#one of the other ideas being i could basically split the fic up into two stories:

[ranger-kellyn]

out in the field for a work trip, and on the drive i kept thinking about my fic Second Chances. i've really wanted to get working on it again, but any time i've tried to work on it, it feels like i'm...idk...pulling myself down to work on it? like, i started that fic in ~2017, so i was a younger writer at that point. while i very much have that fic to thank for where i'm at today, anytime i go to work on it to try to finish it off, i feel like i can't write at any of my current level. i also suffer from a ton of "i wish i had done [insert at least 12 different things] differently".

which eventually lead me to asking myself, "What if i just rewrite the whole thing? it would very much be the same story-- we [cynthia/diantha] dated when we were teenagers, had a bad, messy breakup, and both spiraled until we were in our late 30s, where we reunited at a much better place in our lives-- but it would get to be...more polished."

and so that's a thought i'm having

[spyroforlife]

I've had further Emberlynn Pinkle thoughts

I think the best possible life for her in Hell. is for her to become a goddamn Overlord

Because wouldn't that just be so fitting. That the person who writes over the top fanfics, who probably makes her characters utter Mary Sues (affectionate) who are amazing and powerful and beloved, actually HERSELF becomes a person of power and status in her afterlife

I like to envision her becoming the Overlord of Smut

She gets herself a real nice headquarters, something like a combined library and apartment building, where those who sold their souls to her can live and be taken care of. They've got Internet, they've got food, and you've got the whole big library and lounge area down on the first floor!!

BUT. If she owns your soul. You're gonna work too. Helping out with the Hell-exclusive version of AO3 she created, of course! Responding to support tickets. Tag wrangling. Doing other admin work. Tech support. You get to have your own account too of course and you get extra features, so you can make your own fics even better~ It's very much encouraged for her employees to be fic writers

And she just makes money from demons donating to her entirely because they love her site full of filthy stories, and they want to be able to continue reading and posting their own fics. Non-employees get more basic accounts but there's still plenty they can do.

This isn't even treading on Valentino's toes. It's just written stuff. It's not using real people, there's nothing being filmed. So in Val's eyes, it's two different industries. He does the live action stuff. Hers is meant to be read. So he doesn't really care, and in fact peruses the site himself for inspiration.

I could see him having a deal with her where if he likes a fic idea, she'll get him in touch with whoever wrote it and help negotiate the person allowing Val to use the idea, in return for some of the profits. Emberlynn and the writer of course split their share, and this is all laid out in the site's TOS. As you can imagine, this does attract demons intentionally trying to get Val's approval with their writing, and those guys are seen as squares, but like. Can't really stop them.

Everyone just generally posts what they like and ignores shit that annoys them. And yeah, massively popular website, ran by Emberlynn and her followers, and their headquarters is often visited by others who just wanna hang out and talk about their own writing.

They sell snacks and stuff to guests, and hey, if you like this and want to be part of their exclusive club.. go talk to the boss lady Emberlynn and she'll get you alll set up.

yea idk. Overlord Emberlynn y'all

oh yeah and of course her powers get stronger as she gains souls, idk what all she'll be able to do exactly but I know for sure she can fly, and I can also see her being an emotion reader who specializes in sensing people's turn-ons, which she can use to direct them to the writers she thinks they'll like the most :D she might also be able to mildly hypnotize people using pheromones or something idk. just throwing ideas around haha Emberlynn is fun and I hope she lives her best monsterfucker life in Hell

[kissmetwicekissmedeadly]

:(

My ikevil monsterfucking fic.....I feel conflicted about it because

i didn't mean for it to be a multi-part story!! I only ended up making it like that because it was late at night and i was really tired and i only had 2 characters written... Since both the theme and the prompt were strongly related to October 31, I came up with the idea to separate it into three parts so I could still celebrate the holiday in this way

this led to me rushing the Incubus part and I feel so bad about it 😭 he ended up being not really recognizable and not really sexy AND IT WOULD HAVE BEEN OK IF IT WASN'T MY FAVE THAT'S THE INCUBUS. IT HURTS

then I realized all four characters seem rushed, I think!!! that's because originally this was meant to be a single fic featuring 12 different scenarios! I was trying to keep them short!

Now that I've decided on splitting it into 3 parts with 4 characters each, and Halloween has been commemorated, I told myself I could relax and take my time with the other two parts, writing them in as many words each as I see fit instead of limiting myself to a certain word count.

Fine. But that led to me holding back for 5 days now because "I have to do them justice." 🙃🙃🙃

I think the theme of the fic is the major problem here because it's basically 12 different AUs that can't be fully explored in this form no matter how I try to stretch out the individual parts. I'm afraid that it won't look satisfactory to me in the end no matter what

With all of this being said. PEOPLE LIKED PART ONE. I received nothing but praise, it's not like someone has complained about any of the things that I'm concerned about??? Not that they'd necessarily write it if they share the same thoughts as me, but....

Aghghghhhhh.... If you've read this far, don't worry about giving me advice or anything, I'm just venting in the void. I don't usually feel conflicted about what I write so I wanted to let it out, but I'm sure I'll resolve this issue in no time. In fact I'm writing part 2 right now, and it's flowing nicely!! I don't wanna linger on this for too long, I'm bursting with other ideas that are waiting to be written!!

[slightly-nerdy-rambles]

Robstar Week Day 3: Tandem (Prompt: Training)

Today we're going to see the first of three fics that I made by combining a prompt from this year's round with one from last year. Basically, in 2023 I had ideas for each of the Robstar Week prompts and managed to at least start on all of them, but ended up being too busy/distracted to finish. I still wanted to complete at least some of them, though, so this year I found ways to integrate my favorites into the new prompts. The prompt from last year that originally inspired this story was "Synchronization" from day 6.

There's honestly not too much to say about this one. I knew when I got the original prompt that I needed to do something other than Robin and Starfire being synchronized in battle because I'd done that the year before (the title of the fic was even "Synchrony"), and after running through a few alternate ideas I eventually landed on them working together during a training session. Then the prompt literally called "Training" came out and, hey, serendipity.

Tandem

“Aaand – start!”

Starfire was off like a rocket, buoyed by a joy so honed as to be instinctual. Training drones rose up around her, affixing her with their laser sights. Their shots would sting only for a moment on impact, but she had no intention of letting them get even that far.

One-two-three she flung her arms about. Not a second later, the first three drones fell into smoking husks from the impact of her starbolts.

Some ways away, another group of drones rang with the sound of impact and fell without her interference. Robin had gotten started on another part of the course, and as she rounded a bend she could see him jabbing his staff into the center of his final assailant.

Well, final for this stretch of the course at least.

Robin looked her way then, and his eyes widened just a fraction. “Star, behind you!”

Starfire didn’t waste a moment, dropping several feet in the air just in time for a volley of laser bursts to sail over her head. She wasn’t surprised – she’d thought three training drones had not been very many. With a small frown, she twisted her body so she was facing back-down and took aim at the offending drones.

The first three fell to her starbolts, and one of Robin’s exploding disks took out the last. She flipped back over and shot him a grateful smile for that.

Their paths were converging fast, and just past the joining she spotted a pair of turrets rising out of the ground on either side of the course. These were sturdier but slower than the drones, and Starfire needed no more than a brief shared glance with Robin to confirm he shared her thoughts on their next strategy. She curved around him, flying alongside him as he ran. Together they ducked and wove and deflected, parrying turret shots with starbolts and staff and covering for one another so they needed not to so much as slow down.

Then all at once, Robin let out a startled yell as the floor dropped out beneath him. Starfire dove down after him, grasping his outstretched hand in an instant and then letting them fall a half second longer to escape the turrets’ view while they were vulnerable. Robin grinned fiercely at her as she arced the dive into forward flight. In the split second before she twisted them both around, she grinned back.

Then they were climbing again, moving forward and up yet angled just enough to see the turrets that were now behind and above them. Robin had already grabbed a freezing disk with his free hand, and before the turrets could react he hit the one on the left with quick precision. Starfire used her eye beams to blast the sand and rock just in front of the one on the right, throwing enough debris up to block its computerized view until they got out of range.

Then they were out of the pit and on a straight path to the finish line. Starfire released her partner back into a sprint and resumed flying alongside him, but already she could see their final obstacle. It was the hardest to miss: a massive guillotine door, one that had already begun to drop and threatened to bar their way if it did not pin them painfully beneath its great bulk.

Well. It would pin Robin, perhaps.

With a glint of determination in her eye, Starfire poured on extra speed and pulled ahead. She landed and rolled under the falling door, then rose into a crouch just in time to catch it with her Tamaranean high-strength. This obstacle had been designed to give even Cyborg’s strength a run for its money, but with her partner here to fuel her confidence she hardly felt the strain.

Robin ran up behind her and dove, sliding through the low gap below the door before rolling back to his feet. Once he was clear, she hefted the door off of her shoulders and let it drop behind her. She broke into a run herself as she did — returning to the air would be trivial to her now, but she couldn’t rely on that all the time. And in any case, at the moment she wanted to run with him.

A buzzer sounded as she crossed the finish line, only a half second behind Robin. From his spot up at the obstacle course’s control panel, Cyborg let out a low whistle.

“Forty-one seconds, not bad at all for this course,” he commented, while Beast Boy cheered and Raven gave a short nod of approval. “Keep this up and you two are gonna beat your own record.”

Robin was breathing heavily, hands on his knees after the exertion. Starfire knew the feeling — her flight didn’t leave her quite as winded as running for more than the last stretch would have, but holding up that guillotine door was starting to catch up to her even with her high-strength. After a moment, though, he straightened up and shot her another smile.

“What can I say?” He asked. “We make a good team.”

Starfire returned his smile, and couldn’t hold back a little giggle as she took his proffered hand to join the others and let the next tandem group take their turn. She agreed with that sentiment completely.

[late-to-the-party-81]

Colourblind

AN: this was written for Roo’s Mini March Madness and my prompts were Shoelaces, plaid shirt and panties in the mouth. I hope this tickles your fancy @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

Beta’d by Tits McGee herself, @yarnforbrains 

Dividers by @firefly-graphics and moodboard/banner by me 

Master list

Relationship: Dark! Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

CW: THIS IS A DARK FIC! Non-Con, Steve is a ‘nice guy’, Manipulation, Invasion of privacy, Kidnap, Knocking out (through removal of air flow), Forced Orgasm, Somnophilia, Bondage, ‘Basement Wifing’, Delusion.

With your eyes closed and your arms outstretched, you took a deep breath and took in the fresh air, feeling the warm sun on your skin. This was the new start that you needed. 

When the way that you worked changed due to  the pandemic, you took the opportunity to make the most of remote working and gave up the parts of the corporate rat-race you hated. You sold your soul-less apartment in the city and moved up-state to the rolling hills and tall mountains, where you could reconnect with nature and heal your inner self.

Years of stress, compounded by bad relationship after bad relationship had left you hankering for solitude. You still had some parts of your job that had to be done in person, but travelling back to the city for two nights a month didn’t seem so bad when the rest of the time you would be here, in your simple woodland sanctuary.

This move hadn’t been done totally on a whim; you’d done research into where you could be that was out of the way enough, but wouldn’t leave you struggling with all the chores needed. In the end you’d managed to find a place that had an electricity supply for lights and an internet connection, so you wouldn’t have to worry about a generator, but still required a wood burner for heating and hot water. That you could manage. Your mail would go to a PO box at the general store in the local town, and you planned to go once a week to stock up on the basics.

You’d arrived yesterday and spent most of the time since your arrival unpacking and sorting. But this morning when you’d awoken, the sun coming in through the curtains had been so inviting there was no way you could immediately resume your inside tasks without doing a little exploring and getting that peace that you’d moved here for.

You did have a vague idea of what the local area was like - you’d researched that as well, but you hadn’t had the chance to explore on foot before your arrival. You knew that in addition to  the rough road that led to town, there was a small path, worn by pairs of feet over the years, to the neighbouring property that sat about 2 miles away. You supposed now was as good a time as any other to introduce yourself to your new neighbour - it would be a blessing if you could be on good terms with them.

You made your way along the narrow track, enjoying the way the trees formed a canopy, letting dappled light through. The area was teeming with life, and you saw more flowers in 100 yards than you ever saw from the window of your old apartment. In the distance, you saw a few deer, and you stilled and held your breath as they lifted their heads, scented you on the air, and then disappeared further into the trees. Then, on top of that were all the birds. You had no interest in ornithology, but even your untrained eyes and ears could pick out half a dozen different species. All in all, the walk was exactly what you’d hoped it would be - a soul soothing experience. Hopefully, if all went well with your neighbour and you made a new friend, it would be one you’d repeat regularly.

The path in front of you widened and the trees thinned, and between them you could see another cabin, similar to your own. As you approached, you could hear a rhythmic noise, and it took you a moment to realise it was the sound of wood being competently split with an axe. You blinked as you came out of the shade, using your hand to shield your eyes, and you followed the sound around the side of the cabin, ready to meet your neighbour.

You didn’t know exactly what you were expecting, but the apparent ‘Greek God come to life’, there in front of you, was not it. He was tall - well over 6 foot - with broad shoulders straining the seams of his plaid shirt, a narrow waist and a denim-clad ass that looked like you could easily bounce a dime off it. You stepped on a small branch that cracked under your foot and he spun round, as if anticipating trouble. You were mesmerised though. His hair, both on his head and in his beard, glowed golden in the sunlight. His blue eyes, as deep and dangerous as the ocean, held yours captive, even as they narrowed. Your body thrummed with desire, a feeling that was almost alien to you. And there was just something about him that struck you as… familiar?

“Who are you?” His voice was gruff, like he hadn’t used it in a while, although you supposed if he lived here alone and had no-one to talk to regularly, that was highly likely. You swallowed and plastered a smile onto your face, forcing your strange reaction down. You held out your hand.

“Umm, hi! I’m your new neighbour. Just moved into the cabin at the other end of the trail.” You managed to give him your name as you trailed off. You were worried for a second at his unwelcoming expression and the way he was still holding his axe, but then his lips twitched, and he swung the axe down into the chopping block. With one stride, he was suddenly closer, enclosing your hand in his much larger one.

“Nice to meet you, neighbour. I’m Steve. And welcome to the neighbourhood.” He chuckled at his little joke, and it put you at ease. “What brings you to this little slice of paradise?” He released your hand, and you found that you missed the warmth of his.

“Looking for a quieter life, really. I don’t need to be in an office all the time to do my job, so I thought I might as well pack up, move out, and lead a simpler life.” 

He looked at you, eyes searching as though trying to work out what to make of you.

“‘I’? Not ‘we’?”

You looked down at your feet, feeling small under his gaze, and started to pick at your nails.

“Definitely ‘I’. I’m hoping some time out here -  to myself - will make me better at identifying red flags.”

Steve snorted.

“Well, all the green out here should help.  What have you got planned for the rest of your day?”

His friendly attitude had you looking back up at him.

“A bit more unpacking, a bit of wood chopping for the stove, and then a run into town to sort out my PO Box and get some groceries. It’s probably going to be a bit of a rush after taking time out for a walk and coming to meet you, but I just needed to connect with nature, you know?”

“I understand perfectly, doll. ‘S why I’m out here too. Had to get away from it all and spend some time by myself. Still do a bit of consulting, every now and again, but I’m lucky enough that I don’t need to work regularly any more. Oh, and don’t worry about wood chopping - I’ve got more than enough here - I tend to go a little overboard, get lost in the repetitive action. How about I drive some round to you in a bit, and then I can give you a lift down into town? I gotta go anyway, and it seems silly for us to both use up fuel.”

You started a little at the suggestion. It felt wrong to accept the help from him, having only been acquainted for less than half an hour, as well as the ‘stranger danger’ aspect. But… it would make your life easier, and you weren’t getting any ‘weird’ vibes from him since his initial confrontational facade had worn off.

“If you’re sure you really don’t mind?” 

He smiled down at you and it lit up his face.

“Would I offer if I minded? And besides, it’s the neighbourly thing to do. Shall I come round about midday? We can head on down and then I can show you the best place to eat in town. Sound good?”

You nodded in agreement. “Sounds good, Steve.”

It was the beginning of your friendship. Steve kept you supplied with chopped wood and drove you both down to town once a week, and in return you walked over to his cabin every couple of days, bringing him pies and cookies and your conversation. When you were in town, you started shopping for groceries, and Steve would collect both your and his mail, and you’d meet up at the dinner. It was nice and uncomplicated, and you were happy to have a male friend that didn’t set your alarm bells ringing.

3 months later

“Steve?” 

It was Thursday morning, one of your regular days for coming over to see your neighbour. You’d felt a bit like ‘Little Red Riding Hood’ this morning as you’d placed the apple pie in your old style basket so you could carry it over to Steve’s cabin without damaging it. 

You were hoping that he was in a better mood today. It was clear to you that something had been bothering him the last couple of weeks. He seemed to be more worried about your safety, trying to get you to stay longer and offering to come over and check on you more often. You weren’t sure what had started his paranoia. Maybe you could drag it out of him today over a slice of pie?

However, when you arrived in the clearing and made your way around the side of his house, he wasn’t there chopping wood like he normally was. His truck was still out front though, so maybe he was inside. You trotted back around, climbing up the veranda steps to rap on the door.

“Hello! Steve?” The door was slightly ajar, and you called through the gap.

“I’m in here, honey!”

Honey? Why was Steve calling you that? Odd.

You pushed the door open and walked in. Steve was standing in the corner by his stove, a cast iron skillet resting on the top, with something sizzling within it. He wiped his hands on a dish towel and turned towards you, a wide smile on his face. You smiled in return, glad to see he was in a better mood today.

“What have you brought me, doll? You know your baking is the highlight of my week.”

You waved your hand at him in a shoo-ing gesture, feeling heat travel up your neck and to your cheeks.

“Steve! Don’t embarrass me. And if my cooking is the highlight of your week, then you need to get out more.”

He cocked his head to the side, eyes sparkling.

“But I don’t wanna get out more. Sorta the point of living all the way up here, just like you.”

He had a point

“Touche.”

You breezed past him, your cotton dress swishing around your knees, as you made your way to his kitchen counter, placing your basket upon it and lifting out the pie. Steve came up behind you and peered over your shoulder. Part of your brain was disturbed by how close he was to you, but the other part reassured you that it was just Steve. He was so big that he felt close, no matter where he was in the room in relation to you.

“Oooh, apple! How’d you know it was my favorite, doll?”

You turned your head over your shoulder to look up at him. He really was a handsome man, and if you weren’t set on your path of self improvement and being man-free, you could easily do something stupid, but you didn’t want to lose his friendship.

“Who doesn’t like apple pie?”

He chuckled.

“You won that point, sweetheart. Will you stay for lunch? I’m cooking steak.”

You were sorely tempted. It did smell delicious, and all you had planned for you back at your cabin was grilled cheese and some soup. As you contemplated you nibbled your lower lip.

“I really shouldn’t. I’ve got some work to do, and I don’t want to impose.”

“Don’t be silly, honey. You fit right in, in here. Makes it feel more homely when you’re around. But how come you’ve still got work?”

“You know, cos I work.”

His brow furrowed.

“No, you don’t.”

What?

“Umm, yes I do.”

“You are silly, doll. You did work, but you resigned, remember?”

You spun around to face him and found yourself trapped between his large frame and the counter, his arms barricading you in. A prickle of unease made its way up your spine.

“No I didn’t. I think I’d remember if I resigned from the job I love.”

“But you love me more than that silly job though, don’t you, honey? You resigned so you could be with me. Live here and keep me company and have our babies.”  He smiled at you. A smile you didn’t recognise on his face. Ducking under his arm you stomped across the room.

“I don’t know what type of joke you’re trying to make, Steve, but it’s not funny.

You started to make your way towards the door, but found yourself pulled to a stop by Steve’s arms wrapping around you. In other circumstances this would be wonderful, but with the way Steve was acting and things he was saying, you were entirely freaked out.

“Steve! Let me go! I’m not in the mood. I want to go home and I’ll speak to you later when you can be nice.”

You repressed a shiver as his face came down to your neck, his nose sliding up it, followed by his beard, that rasped and tickled over your sensitive skin.

“I am being nice, honey. And you don’t need to go anywhere. You are home.”

You tried to break out of his hold, but his arms were like steel bands around your frame.

“Steve! It’s not funny any more. I have work to do.”

He growled low in his throat, and you froze.

“I told you, you don’t have work any more. You might not have sent the letter, but I knew you wanted to be here with me. It was easy to get their address from your payslip when I picked up your mail. Told them you didn’t want to be contacted, and they just had to accept it.”

As his words settled in your brain, your struggles began anew, and with more vigour. Steve wasn’t just being strange, he was downright deluded! You kicked at his shins and tried to wriggle out of his grip, chanting “Let me go! Let me go!” But all Steve did was shush you, like you were a toddler having a tantrum.

“Shh, shh, honey. Don’t be like this. You accused me of not being nice, but what is this, huh?”

One of his large hands came up over your mouth, and he pinched your nose between his finger and thumb. Your eyes went wide with panic as your head started to swim.

“Calm down, doll. Take it easy. That’s it. That’s it. Sleep now.”

Your vision went spotty as your heels kicked ineffectually against him, your lungs burning as you started to run out of air. Then it all went dark.

Your body trembled, waves of pleasure running through you, despite the uncomfortable ache in your shoulders and arms. The ecstasy continued, and you whined, not knowing if you wanted it to stop or continue. It had been so long since you’d felt it and…

Your memory returned like a flood. Your eyes shot open to see Steve’s blue eyes looking up at you from between your legs, where he was feasting on your cunt, bringing you to your peak even as you lay unconscious. Those pools of ocean blue danced when he saw your awareness come back in, and he sucked harder, tipping your traitorous body back over the edge, moans leaving your mouth against your will.

As you came back down from your orgasm,and gained more control over yourself, you tried to shift, moving your legs up the bed and away from him, but a sudden twist caused pain to arch down your arm. That’s when you realised that both your upper limbs were bound above your head. You drew your gaze away from a grinning Steve -  a Steve whose beard was soaked from your release - to peer up at how you were tied.

Shoelaces. Tied around your wrist, loose enough that they wouldn’t cut off your blood supply, but tight enough that you couldn’t slide your hand out unless you managed to dislocate both your thumbs.

Steve crawled up the bed slowly, but you couldn’t get away. He cupped your face and kissed you, your own scent filling your nose as he forced your mouth open and invaded you with his tongue. The denim of his jeans scraped your thighs, thighs that were sensitive and raw from the burn of his beard as he’d violated you.

“Hey, welcome back, honey. Sorry I started without you, but you looked so sweet, I couldn’t help myself. Been waiting a long time, ever since Wilson and Barnes told me that a beautiful young thing was interested in the property.”

Wilson and Barnes? That was the name of the realtor company that had brokered the sale of your cabin to you. How did Steve know them?

“My old friends knew exactly what I needed in my retirement. I spent so long saving the world - it owed me. And look… it gave me you, honey. And we’re going to be so happy. I know it. You just gotta let yourself get used to it.”

He was mad. Saving the world? What on earth did he mean?

“And when you’re ready, you can be Mrs. Rogers. Would you like that, sweetheart? How many ladies get the opportunity to get married to one Captain America, while another and the Winter Soldier act as witnesses.”

Rogers? How had you gone these last months without finding out his last name? Everything slotted together like a frightening puzzle in your mind. Why you’d felt so at ease with Steve when you’d first met him, why he seemed familiar despite having never met him. It was the beard - it had been enough to stop you instantly recognising America’s Golden Boy, thought dead after the final battle against Thanos. And Sam Wilson, the new Captain America had sanctioned - had assisted! - in this kidnapping, as a favour to his old comrade.

You heard the metal sound of Steve’s jeans zipper and it triggered your fight instinct.

“No! No! Get off! I don’t want this. I don’t want this!” You bucked your hips but only succeeded in rubbing your bare mound over Steve’s bulge, encased solely by his briefs.

Steve looked down at you with condescension.

“Honey, you’re too shocked by all this to know what you want, and I think you need to stop talking before you say something you’ll regret. Let me help you with that.”

He reached to the side, to a scrap of fabric lying near your feet. He enclosed it in his large hand and brought it up to his face, eyes closing as he took a long, indrawn breath through his nose. Part of the cloth poked out from between his fingers and you recognised it as your panties.

“Fuck! Now that you’re here I can smell this delicious scent whenever I want…” He opened his eyes and looked back down at you. “...and taste it too. But right now, I need you to understand that we belong together.”

With his free hand he squeezed your cheeks, forcing your mouth open, and even as you glared at him he pushed your panties into your mouth, then stroked the side of your face with the back of his knuckles

“There. You look so pretty, honey. Hope you’re ready? You’re gonna enjoy this - I know I will.”

You knew you should still be struggling, but as he pushed his jeans off and followed it quickly with his plaid shirt, part of you knew there was no point. He was too big. Too strong. Too determined. Any resistance would probably end up with you being hurt even more.

As Steve pulled down his briefs you turned your head away, a tear rolling down your cheek. It appeared that despite your best intentions, you’d been colour blind - mistaking the red flags for green.

Tag list: @jobean12-blog @tuiccim @flordeamatista @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @goldylions @luxeavenger @wheezy-stucky @doasyoudesireandlive @chemtrails-club @seitmai @marvelstarker-mha98 @talia-rumlow @peaches1958 @pono-pura-vida @lunarbuck

[lvrsturniolo]

im already obsessed with slytherin!chris omg let me cook for a sec

aurora wants to study for her owls w chris and chris keeps bugging her like “can we do smth interesting instead 🙄” but reluctantly helps her study anyways

fuehfjajckqks i alr love them sm

THANK YOU ANON!! I LOVE THIS IDEA SM

this is just a little smtn while im working on an actual fic!!

warnings: not proofread

it was around 8:45 pm, the large room was nearly silent besides the sound of rain falling on the top of the tower. Aurora and Chris are currently in the library, Owls are next week and Aurora takes studying very seriously. Chris on the other hand has much more “important” things to worry about. (In about two hours there will be a party in the Slytherin common room, a celebration of winning their quidditch match earlier in the day.) While the small blonde girl has her head buried in a book, Chris has his hand lightly placed on her thigh, thumb circling calmly as he tries to stay focused with what the girl’s trying to teach him. He misses so much class that he’s lucky to even know basics. He’s always been very touchy with her, which has never been much of a bother because he’s a touchy person. He’s always got his arm around someone, or playing with someone’s hair whilst chatting in the common room amongst your friend group. The soft skin on your thigh’s keeping his attention held to the book as well as it can, but it’s still not enough.

“C’mon Rory, put the book down just for a few hours. This party is gonna be so much fun, everyone’s going. I can’t stand sitting here any longer my ass is numb.” The boy begs quietly due to being in the library.

“Chris, you told me you’d study with me tonight! I promise there will be another party in less than a week, we can go to that one. You have got to focus if you want to pass!” The girl says, looking up at him, eyes a pleading expression.

“I-I know there’s gonna be more but this is celebration, Rory! I promise you I could care less about this stupid test, and you shouldn’t care as much as you do!” He says, almost a little frustrated but he keeps his calm, mostly because it’s only her; but she doesn’t know that.

Rory huffs lightly, sad that he wants to change plans but she knew he’d want to after the quidditch match. She turns her head back down to her book for a split second, thinking, before looking back up at him, doe eyes as pleading as ever.

“If we can study for just about two more hours, then we can go” she says, lightly smiling at him.

His grin widens instantly, grip lightly tightening on her thigh in happiness.

“You’re the best Rory, now where were we, page 82?”

“Kid we’re on page 351…”

A/N:I DONT KNOW HOW TO FEEL ABOUT THIS BUT LMK GUYS!!! AND THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST ANON!! 😚😚😚

I lowkey wanna make Chris an asshole but like with a soft spot for Rory type situation 😋

[joltning]

rvb aus

when I said I had a lot brewing I meant a LOT brewing…! god I need motivation

I’ll be splitting these into 3 sections: one offs/fic ideas, less expanded on ideas, and then my main aus/ones I have more ideas on

one offs/jokey aus/fic ideas:

feel free to take these ideas as your own, im not too attached to them

• grimmons fic where kai lives on iris and simmons is super nervous around her. grif thinks it’s because he has a crush on her but actually it’s because she keeps teasing him about his crush on grif

• teen beach rvb au. think about it man.

• au where lopez and felix betray locus before he can betray felix. and they kiss or something I don’t know

• freelancer donut au…!!! one of my firsts. not very good. has no substance. but it exists. tex donut beef goes CRAZY

• trivia murder party rvb au. i have no clue what this would entail

• slipspace (the grifball miniseries guys) team up with fh57 from s14. this was before I learned that fh57 was just funhouse. womp womp

• shis tril writer mentions that locus now “owns a food truck on Fiji” or something. someone write that Please im begging

• fast food au focusing on the lieutenants. + Frank from s15. i know him and bitters gonna be oomfs or whatever

• au where church stays in the s3 time loop and experiences generation loss, feeding bits of himself into the other soldiers in order to save them

• au where the s5 ending where they all die is canon and they all go to hell

less expanded ideas

• so basic but I’m putting it in this tier anyway. A song fic battle of the bands au, but MY WAY…!!!! I have a vision. Don’t know what it is yet but I have it

• campy horror movie rvb au, where they all claim to see different things in the woods, but it turns out literally every single person is the horror. they all embody horror tropes and are, of course, alone in the woods in a summer camp.

• started as an everything everywhere all at once au but turned into something more Evil. Anyway regular domestic au but then the ai from the “alpha universe” jump into people in the main universe when they’re “compatible.” GRIMMONS JUMPSCARE….!!!!! Simmons is gonna be the one to end the world and the ai are either helping or hindering that process. he becomes a literal monster. originally this au was made so I could experiment with purple prose + text art etc but I guess not anymore what the hell

• rvbz au…! Viper and shatter squad are two organizations, viper being a splinter group from the AOD. When they start fighting on chorus, the reds and blues take sides, splitting off into two groups, some staying neutral. both are somewhat regarded as terrorist groups, viper being victims of starlight labs and shatter being a sort of vigilante group that. isn’t very good at it.

• “split ends” au…!! I really hope to bring this one up to the top tier at some point! geotah focus because im ill but it’s mostly balanced as i wanna get all dynamics in. project freelancer, instead of having ai, has units run using a partner. Only one can use it at a time, and the other has to focus on running it, leaving them vulnerable on the battlefield. This goes for enhancements, but it also goes for other things, such as calculations, enemy tracking, etc. they can switch whenever they want. each pair has one unit. god i wish I could write the unseen freelancers because all those silly powers would be chaos. Oh, also, you can steal the armor enhancements like you would ai. Hmm.

more expanded ideas

these are in order from least important to me to most

• trailer au! one of my first aus, and the ONLY au I’ve written a full outline for. (it’s not very good now that I look back on it.) it asks the question: what if the s15 trailer was EXACTLY what it was eluding to? featuring…Frank staying on the film team and making a trio with jax and dylan, insane murder party reds and blues, spencer plot relevance (somewhat) omalley coming back, the reds and blues failing to beat Hargrove, tucker shooting wash, and one armor enhanced, cobalt colored Tucker.

• s15 rewrite au. after disliking the trailer au I made this one! the blues and reds, instead of being mirrors or even reflections of the main cast, is reflections of what they could have become if they hadn’t changed their old ways, if things had gotten worse. this is basically my snider cut i reorder a shit ton of things etc. also very important carolina was not there when biff died it was just Tex and she didn’t kill biff, she just refused to help him (that kill goes to our friend loco!) anyway it’s more centric of the idea of comparisons between people who have distinguishing differences. Also kuane exists

• interstate au! honestly I have so little in terms of plot but idea wise I have Everyhting. I cannot stop thinking about it sooo..that’s why it’s so high up. Okay I’ll be real this is honestly like a glorified swap au but it’s MY swap au. Basically everything after s5 (also the miniseries) is noncanon and it diverges from there. ft…wash getting sigmapilled by eta, red team maine, red and blue road trip, the quest to find kai (she’s kissing women) and the run from DEAD CAROLINA..!! DEAD..!! oh and church and tex are literally just ghosts. Instead of the director trying to bring back allison and fragmenting one full ai into attributes, he is trying to pair FULL AI with freelancers in an attempt to boil them down to one trait, to harvest them and combine them into a Super Dead Daughter Carolina. wash and eta, or Data (see what I did there) are the collectors which is why they’re the main antags or whatever

• TRIPLETS TRILOGY. OHHHH MY GOOODDDD. I can’t say much because I intend to actually show this one to the world, but WOW. love this one. Basically, the triplets and sherry’s squad are alive. After an alien crash lands on their planet years later, they’re left to explore and find out what they’ve missed while they were gone. It’s split into 3 ‘seasons,’ (with one scrapped mini series), takes place during the recollections, and is looking to be way shorter than I intended it to be, but oh well. It’s where my obsession with the green guy and the white fuck and sherryvera insanity comes from. why did I have to fixate on these random ass mfers what the hell. It’s canon plausible….!! It would never happen!!! But it could!!

now the rant’s done, here’s some older images. oh god ray’s hair is So wrong

[xiaojunsmintchoco]

Love Note — Johnny Suh

pairing: best friend johnny x reader

genre: fluff, best friends to lovers, roommates au

synopsis: despite having been best friends for the longest time, both you and Johnny pick up a new habit of leaving little notes for each other when you move in together. How does that blur the lines between best friends and lover for you both?

wc: 6k of (poorly-written) fluff

a/n: this is a gift for @sehunniepotwrites! Nikki, I hope you enjoy this fic (though it was wasn’t very well written imo :”) and that it brightens your Christmas for you! thank you so much for being such a cool mutual to talk to, though we’ve only known each other for a short while, I’ve really enjoyed our conversations! Stay safe and have a wonderful holiday!

⋆*̣̥☆·͙̥‧❄•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥˟͙☃˟͙‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥❄‧·͙̥̣☆*̣̥

“Dude, you good?” Johnny looks over to you with a concerned expression as he hears the sigh coming from you. 

“No,” you groan, scrolling through your phone as you look at the rental prices for apartments near university. “Looking at how rental prices are all sky-high, there’s no way I’ll be able to rent an apartment”. 

“I would normally suggest staying at home, but if I were you I wouldn’t wanna make a one hour commute to school every day, especially with the amount of work we’re gonna have too,” Johnny muses. 

You shoot your best friend a playful glare. “Gee, thanks for reminding me of that, John”. 

He merely chuckles as he watches you continue looking for reasonably-priced apartments, but all of them seem like they’d drain more of your budget than you’d like. “Say, what if we both rent an apartment together? Then we can both split rent, and it should be more affordable for us, right?” Johnny suggests. “I mean, I’d like an apartment near university too. Like you, I wouldn’t wanna waste two hours travelling to and from school in total”. 

Your eyes light up at your best friend’s suggestion. “You’re a genius!” you exclaim, his idea already appealing to you. With anyone else you didn’t know too well you would’ve been hesitant, but hey, this was your best friend you were talking about, which would be easier than having to move in with a complete stranger. In that moment, you thank the heavens that Johnny had decided to apply to the same university as you and gotten accepted as well. 

“Of course I am”. Johnny scoffs in return, earning him an eye roll and a light smack across the shoulder.

“Whatever, Mr Self Proclaimed Genius. I’ll send you the apartment listings, you can look through them, and then we can make a decision together”.

Johnny hums as his phone dings with the text notification from you. “Yep, that’s good,” he agrees, opening the link you sent and skimming through the list of possible apartments you both could rent. Before you know it, you’ve both settled on a decent apartment. 

⋆*̣̥☆·͙̥‧❄•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥˟͙☃˟͙‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥❄‧·͙̥̣☆*̣̥ ⋆

“YES! I can’t believe we actually got the apartment!” you cheer as you take the key and waltz into the new apartment. Johnny laughs at your antics, but lets himself into the apartment as well. It was quite a homey one, with a brown wooden floor and white walls. A comfy-looking sofa sat in front of a round coffee table and a television, and in the dining hall, you were greeted by a rectangular dining table, decorated with a glass vase of artificial flowers, as well as the fridge next to it. Talk about value for money. 

“Let’s go check out the rooms, shall we? Then we can pick the rooms that we want,” Johnny suggests. You agree, and both of you hurtle up the stairs, eager to look at the bedrooms. Turns out, both of the rooms have the same basic design — single size bed, a bedside table with three drawers and a lamp, plus a large enough wardrobe for you both to use. How you both still manage to argue (jokingly) over which room you both want — no one will ever know, but you both attributed it to your “best friend chemistry”. 

“Why are you so insistent on taking the room on the left? They’re both the same!” Johnny argues.

“Nah man, the one on the left has a nicer view from the window, so I want that one!” you declare. “Then why do you want the one on the left so badly, since in your words, ‘they’re both the same’?”

“The colour of the wardrobe in that room is nicer! The brown is warmer,” Johnny. claims, not backing down. 

“Psh, over that?” you snicker. This argument wasn’t going anywhere. 

You both decide the rooms based on a game of “scissors, paper, stone”, which resulted in you winning and getting the room on the left, and Johnny crumpled on the floor in defeat, being the dramatic best friend you’d known for all this while.

After moving into your desired rooms and unpacking, you both discuss roommate duties over an Indian takeout lunch. “I think that the cleanliness of our own rooms as well as laundry should be our own individual responsibilities,” Johnny begins. 

You nod, agreeing with your friend. “For the other stuff, what about a weekly rotation? This week I can do cooking, while you do dishes. But for the other stuff…”

“We’ll split it,” Johnny decides. “So this week maybe you can sweep the floor and empty the trash, and I’ll clean the bathroom and do mopping? Maybe I should do groceries too, since you’re cooking already. So what do you think, Your Highness?” he finishes with a mock bow to you, waiting for your approval. 

You laugh at the title he gave to you at the end, but approve of his suggestions. “Sure! I’ll write them all down on a piece of paper, then we can use one of those fridge magnets to put this on the fridge”.

And that commenced your experience of living with one of your all-time best friends. 

⋆*̣̥☆·͙̥‧❄•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥˟͙☃˟͙‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥❄‧·͙̥̣☆*̣̥ ⋆

“Yo bro, I just got a sick idea”.

You look up from your breakfast of toast with butter and coconut jam (Johnny had gotten lazy that morning and just made plain toast), and raise an eyebrow at the boy in front of you. He’s currently scrolling through his phone, seemingly engrossed in something. “And that is…?” you ask, cocking an eyebrow up while trying to hide the suspicion creeping into your voice. 

Unfortunately, Johnny knew you too well, and knew you had your reservations already. “Don’t worry man! I was just thinking, we could get Ikea desks for our rooms and assemble them together, since our rooms don’t have desks,” he mumbles through a mouthful of his own toast — topped with honey and butter. 

Alarm bells go off in your head immediately, alerting you that your friend’s “sick idea” probably might not be that great. “I don’t know, man…we’re like bulls in a china shop. What makes you think we can assemble a desk, let alone two desks?” you question.

“C’mon, it’s just like, Ikea DIY. How hard could it be?” Johnny argues. 

“Why not just get desks that have already been assembled?” you suggest. 

“Nah, if we were to get DIY desks that’d be cheaper, because we’re assembling it ourselves instead of the people in the factory,” Johnny reasons. 

“I’m not sure about this…” 

And so begins another round of the playful arguments you’ve both gotten used to since the beginning of your friendship, which Johnny won — partly because you gave in, since you knew he wouldn’t let up and you’d both be late for your first classes if the argument didn’t end somewhere. 

Now both of you are left squinting at the instruction manual of the first Ikea desk, while blindly screwing parts together. 

“Dude, watch it, it’s gonna — agh!” Johnny’s panicked yell makes you jump and drop the instruction manual, which you were previously poring over for the umpteenth time before the desk collapsed, missing you by a hair’s breadth. 

“What the heck, bro!” you exclaim, jaw still seemingly glued to the floor from shock.

“I’m sorry,” Johnny apologises, sheepishly scratching the back of his head. “Gosh, I didn’t know Ikea furniture was this hard to put together”.

“Yeah, who was the one who said ‘C’mon, it’s just like, Ikea DIY?’” you snort, reminding him of his words over breakfast earlier in the week.

“Shut up,” he groans. “I’m starting to wish I could eat my words. Nevermind, let’s do this again. What do the instructions say again?”

“So first, we’ve gotta find this wooden board. Then, we put four screws into it…” 

It takes about two more hours, and multiple glasses of ice-cold coke zero, but you both finally finish putting together the first desk. “Now that’s what I call a true masterpiece!” Johnny declares, stepping back from the completed desk and dramatically dusting off his hands. “Dude, we’re basically ready for marriage now that we can assemble Ikea furniture without killing each other in the process,” he jokes, swirling the ice cubes in his glass.

Having been his friend for years, you’re used to him making such jokes, so you don’t expect the wave of butterflies that sweeps over you when those words reach your ears. However, you brush it off and lightly smack his shoulder. “Don’t speak so fast — you almost let the desk collapse on me! Besides, we’ve got one more desk to assemble,” you remind, pointing at the second heap of wooden boards and metal frames laid on the floor in front of you.

“Oh, dammit”.

⋆*̣̥☆·͙̥‧❄•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥˟͙☃˟͙‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥❄‧·͙̥̣☆*̣̥ ⋆

One thing that sets you and Johnny aside from other roommates could be your habit of leaving little notes for each other on the fridge. Be it to update the other on location, remind the other about undone chores, or ask the other to pick something up from the store, every day, without fail, the fridge would be filled with these little notes — it had become a personal bulletin board of sorts for the two of you.

How it started? After this one day, when you came home in a state of awful stress due to the sheer amount of work your professors had loaded on you, and your dead phone wasn’t helping your situation. Thus, you decide to simply rip a piece of paper off a notepad, and scribble out a note for Johnny to let him know where to find you, before sticking it to the fridge with a magnet. 

I’m at home, just in my room. Very busy today. As soon as Johnny gets home, your note on the fridge catches his attention when he walks into the kitchen to pour himself a glass of milk, and he decides to check on you.

No sooner than two seconds after he knocked the door came your tiny reply of “come in”. “Dude, what’s that awful smell-“ Johnny begins as soon as he enters. The sight that greets him is you seated at your desk with your hoodie up, staring at your computer with your palms cupping your face. Beside you is an unfinished venti cup of iced coffee, and your favourite cinnamon scented candle — the culprit behind that “awful smell”. He knew the scented candle was something you used in order to destress, so all of those things signalled to him that you were having a less-than-ideal time. “Hey, you good?” Johnny asks, making his way over and plopping in the chair beside you, noting the way your eyebrows were furrowed and your eyes were glazed over with a downcast expression. 

“Yes, all is fine and dandy. Totally don’t have an eight-page essay due tomorrow and biology and math tests the whole of next week that I haven’t studied for”. With sarcasm dripping from your tone, you make your predicament known to Johnny. 

“Ouch. That’s rough,” Johnny hums, looking over at your computer screen as he racks his brain for ways to help you. That’s when he realises that the essay topic you’re on is very similar to one he’s done before. “Hey, I actually did this essay last semester. Would you like to read mine? Maybe you can refer to it to help you with your own,” he suggests. “I mean, you could even use it and just change a few sentences. Doubt the professor would notice”.

You turn to properly face him this time. “Really?”

“Yeah, it’s no problem. I can just email you the document,” Johnny adds. "After this, I can study math with you and help you. Sorry I can't help with biology, since I don't take it". 

“Oh my goodness, LIFESAVER! Thank you so much John!” you exclaim, the relief visible on your face as your features relaxed into a grateful smile. You really were thankful to your friend — if not for him, you’d still be stuck on the third page of your essay, not knowing how to go on. 

“No problem, y/n. Just helping you out,” he answers with a grin. “What about after all your tests finish next week, we do something to relax?” he suggests. “My own tests finish then too”.

“Sounds good!” you reply.

Which is how both of you end up on the couch with Johnny, legs tangled up in a pile of blankets, savouring the delicious pizza you both ordered and laughing over what could well be your hundredth episode of Brooklyn-99, glad that the hectic semester was going to end before you knew it. 

It was in times like these, your best friend’s presence brought you a warm sense of comfort, like warm peppermint tea in stormy weather. Somehow, with him, the world seemed much less overwhelming and easier to take on.

What you didn’t know was, Johnny felt the exact same way about you. 

⋆*̣̥☆·͙̥‧❄•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥˟͙☃˟͙‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥❄‧·͙̥̣☆*̣̥ ⋆

Rain poured and lightning flashed angrily in the gloomy skies outside the window — but even that could not compare to the storm in your heart. To say you were frantic with worry would be an understatement. Walking over to the fridge, you re-read the note that he’d left on the fridge for you.

I’ve got basketball practice today, so I’ll be home at about 4 pm today. 

It’s now 5: 30 pm — one and a half hours past the time stated on the note. The fact that he wasn’t picking up your calls too wasn’t helping. 

Just as you think you’re about to lose your mind, the jangling of keys in the lock forces you to snap your head in the direction of the door, which opens to reveal none other than Johnny. He’s soaked to the bone, clothes uncomfortably clinging to every inch of him, bag slung over his shoulder. “Johnny! What happened, why were you not picking up my calls?” a flurry of questions tumbles out of your mouth as you hurry to take his bag from him and pass him a towel to dry himself with.

“Sorry, y/n. Practice was extended by more than an hour, and I forgot my umbrella,” he sighs as he gratefully accepts the towel from you and begins drying his hair. 

“My goodness, John. To think that was the first thing I reminded you to bring today,” you reply, facepalming at your friend’s absentmindedness. “Quick, go take a bath — I don’t want you to fall sick,” you add, and he complies.

Unfortunately, the damage had been done. The next morning, you wake up to this note on the fridge: Now sicko, so I’m stuck in my room. Don’t worry about me though, lel.

Johnny was now curled up under the covers, running a temperature and nose running like a tap. As his roommate and best friend, you took it upon yourself to take care of him. 

That afternoon as soon as you get home, you prepare some soup and rice for Johnny, and portion them into bowls. Setting both bowls onto a tray, you carry the tray to Johnny’s room before knocking on the door, entering when you hear a weak “come in”.

“Johnny, wake up and have something to eat before taking your medicine,” you say as you set the tray down on his bedside table. 

“Mmph, wanna sleep,” he mumbles, laying his head back down on the pillow and shutting his eyes again. 

“Eat lunch first, then you can sleep all you want,” you assert, gentle but firm. “It’s lotus root and pork rib soup with pumpkin rice, so you should be able to get it down with no problem”. He obliges, and you prop a pillow up against his headboard so that he can sit comfortably. 

“Mm, delicious,” Johnny comments, slurping up a spoonful of soup and taking a mouthful of the rice. “Thanks, y/n”.

“Anytime, Johnny. I know you’d do the same for me”. His voice, though now coarse and raspy due to sickness, still carried the same familiar warmth you’d grown so fond of throughout friendship. Your heart fluttered and pounded at his words — which you realised was now becoming a far too common occurrence. 

You sit beside him as he eats, silence being the only thing audible apart from Johnny’s slurping and chewing sounds. “You know, y/n,” he suddenly says, breaking the silence. 

“What?”

“The way you’ve been taking care of me the past few days…it gives me ‘wife vibes’,” he remarks as you give him his medicine. 

“Elaborate, please,” you request, hiding your surprise at his comment.

"I mean…look, cooking for me, making sure I take my medicine, checking on me whenever you can…is that not what a wife does?" he reasons, gulping down some water. “Also, the way you blew up my phone with calls when I was late from basketball practice, that’s something a worried wife would do”. 

“Psh,” you scoff, rolling your eyes good-naturedly. “I’m just looking out for you as any good roommate would do. Besides, funny you say that — none of my friends think I give off wife vibes or mum vibes, even”.

Johnny raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yeah, to them I give off joker vibes and clown vibes,” you explain with a laugh. 

“I didn’t know”. Johnny says, surprise evident on his face. His expression quickly morphs into a smirk, though. “Then I should count myself lucky, since I’m the only one among our friends that have seen this ‘wife’ side of you. Trust me, your future spouse is gonna be very very lucky”. 

You simply chuckle, picking up his dishes and scurrying into the kitchen to put them away in the sink in an attempt to hide the blush on your cheeks that had darkened one or two shades. He thinks I’d make a good wife! Inside, you’re screaming with joy as you walk back to his room with a fresh glass of water, and put it on his bedside table. “I’d light you one of my favourite scented candles, but I know you hate it,” you remark, and both of you share a laugh as you remember how he nearly gagged the first time he came in and smelt the cinnamon scented candle. “Rest well, Johnny”. You exit his room and quietly shut the door.

As you’re leaving his room, something clicks inside of you: maybe, just maybe, you were developing a crush on your roommate and best friend.

And maybe it had started way earlier than you thought. But you felt it was best to keep your feelings under wraps, lest you jeopardize your precious friendship.

⋆*̣̥☆·͙̥‧❄•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥˟͙☃˟͙‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥❄‧·͙̥̣☆*̣̥ ⋆

Johnny finds himself startled by your shrill scream one fine afternoon, and worried that you got hurt, he rushes out of his room and into the kitchen to check on you. "Y/n, what happened? Are you hurt?"

His eyes follow the direction your trembling finger is pointing at, and his gaze lands on a brown, oval-shaped object, with two antennae and six hairy, formidable-looking legs. "C-cockroach!" you stammer, shivering like a winter leaf. Cockroaches were one of your worst fears, and Johnny knew that well. 

Sighing, Johnny puts his hands on your shoulders and leads you out of the kitchen. "Stay outside, I'll deal with this piece of shit," he instructs, walking off to grab the can of insecticide in the storeroom. You watch from behind the kitchen door as he sprays relentlessly at the creepy-crawly, until it turns turtle and breathes its last. "Get me a tissue," he requests, and you comply. Picking the cockroach up with the tissue, he flings it into the bin and then cleans up the areas where he sprayed the insecticide. "This-is-J-S-95. Enemy-has-been-neutralized," he says in a robotic voice, releasing the fear in your heart and replacing it with amusement as you guffaw at his robot impression.

"Thank you so much, John. I thought I'd never be able to get my glass of water in peace," you let out a relieved chuckle. "Sorry to scare you with my screaming".

"No problem. I was more worried that you got hurt," he answers. 

"Tell you what, as a thank you I'll cook your favourite dish for dinner next week, as soon as our groceries are restocked," you suggest. 

"Sure thing. It's the least you can do after nearly giving me a heart attack," he jokes. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever John,” you chuckle, rolling your eyes and moving to pour yourself a glass of water. 

Funny I said that, everytime I’m around her, my heart pounds so fast I feel like I’m having cardiac arrest, Johnny thinks to himself as he strolls out of the kitchen. 

⋆*̣̥☆·͙̥‧❄•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥˟͙☃˟͙‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥❄‧·͙̥̣☆*̣̥ ⋆

Perhaps, deciding to sing in the shower is far from a wise choice — even if you think you’re alone at home.

But that’s exactly what you decided to do. After coming home from a stressful day at school, all you wanted to do was take a warm shower, use your favourite shampoo, and then get to tackling whatever assignments you had. And because Johnny wasn’t home, you thought it would be a safe bet to relieve some of that stress by belting your heart out to songs. 

You finish your private shower concert with your own rendition of Whitney Houston's "I Will Always Love You”, and exit the bathroom to find a new note on the fridge. Bro, great voice, you should’ve sang louder. I would’ve had a much better recording :)

He was home? I didn’t know! A mildly panicked thought zooms through your mind. You unpin the note from the fridge, and go off in search of your roommate. “Johnny Suh, if you really recorded me singing earlier, I’m gonna freaking kill you!” you exclaim, heading in the direction of his room. Sure enough, your own voice comes blasting through the door, eliciting a sigh from you. Still, you knock his door and wait for him to consent to your entry before opening the door and lunging towards him, pretending to strangle him. “You! Delete the recording, now!” you demand, making a finger gun and holding it to his head. 

“Not in a million years,” he replies, smirking as he holds his phone to his chest. “C’mon man, you sounded glorious, why would I not want a memento of your fantastic voice? Besides…” his voice trails off. “It would make great blackmail material!” he finishes, lips curving into a triumphant grin.

“You piece of-“ you attempt to snatch the phone from him, but he stands up and holds the phone up high. Though you’re not that short, Johnny has a height that can match Goliath’s, and you’re not able to reach his phone. “Fine. If you don’t delete that recording, I’ll retract my promise of cooking your favourite dish for tomorrow,” you huff. 

“Okay, fine, fine!” Johnny concedes, holding up his hands in surrender. Lowering his phone in front of your face, he unlocks it, opens his files and then makes a show of deleting the audio clip. “There. Happy now, milady?” he asks, waving his phone in front of your face. 

“Yes, very good,” you approve. “Congratulations then, you saved yourself,” you declare, striding out of the room. 

Little did you know, that night Johnny retrieved the audio clips from his phone’s recycling bin and listened to them, smiling to himself at how goofy and adorable he found you. He realised how idiotic he would have looked if you or anyone else were there, but hey — he was alone in the privacy of his room, with only the moonlight streaming through the window to accompany him.

Gosh, since when was I so down bad for her? He asks himself as he sets his phone on the bedside table and drifts off to sleep. 

⋆*̣̥☆·͙̥‧❄•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥˟͙☃˟͙‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥❄‧·͙̥̣☆*̣̥ ⋆

“So this is what your apartment looks like? That’s nice!” Taeyong compliments his friend on his apartment as he steps in, taking a look at the place. The last semester had rolled around really quickly, and Johnny had invited his close friends and group mates, Taeyong and Yuta, over to the apartment to work on a year-end group project. 

“Yeah, y/n and I decorated it together, is it nice?” Johnny asks, heart swelling with some amount of pride.

“Yeah, the ‘married couple’ vibes are immaculate,” Yuta says, eyeing the pictures on the wall, most of which were pictures you and Johnny took when you hung out together. 

Johnny doesn’t miss the teasing lilt in Yuta’s voice, and rolls his eyes at him. “We’re not married or in any form of relationship, we’re just roommates,” he reminds Yuta while leading his friends into the kitchen. “You guys want anything to drink?” he asks kindly. While Taeyong simply opts for water, Yuta doesn’t answer, instead focusing on reading the note you’d left for Johnny on the fridge. “I’m at Wendy’s house with Seulgi to work on our year-end project. By the way thanks for killing the cockroach for me last week, I’ll cook your favourite dish for dinner tonight when I get home! Aww,” Yuta remarks, turning to smirk at Johnny. “So, you kill the bugs while y/n cooks as a thank you? If that doesn’t sound married, I don’t know what does”.

“Yuta, I already said, we’re not married or in a relationship. I mean, I do like her, but neither of us plan to-“ Johnny is cut off by Taeyong literally spitting out his water. It’s in that moment that Johnny realises that he let that detail slip, and his hands instinctively fly to his mouth. 

“Wait, sorry, what? Say that again?” Taeyong prods. 

Johnny huffs and shakes his head. “Nevermind. Pretend I said nothing. Let’s just go get our project done”.

“Y’know, if you really like her, I think you should tell her,” Taeyong comments later as they’re wrapping up their project. 

“Nah bro. I’m sure she doesn’t like me back that way”. Johnny shakes his head. 

“How would you know?” Yuta questions.

“C’mon man, we’ve both been nothing more than best friends for a good chunk of our lives. No way she sees me as more than that,” Johnny argues, but both his friends are not convinced. 

“You’re not her, you wouldn’t really know,” Taeyong points out.

“That’s true. But I’d rather keep quiet than jeopardize our friendship by telling her,” Johnny replies. 

“Jeez, the signs are so obvious. I can’t believe you literally live under the same roof as her, yet you’re oblivious to all of them,” Yuta groans. 

“There are signs?” Johnny questions, raising an eyebrow. 

“Bro, I’ve caught her staring at you multiple times in Chemistry class. I sit beside you, and I can literally feel her gaze on you,” Taeyong says.  

“And even if she’s tired thanks to a lack of morning coffee, the moment you walk in — boom, her mood changes. Suddenly, she’s a can of beans and I can hear her even from the farthest end of the room. How do you not pick up on these things?” Yuta asks, not sure whether to be amazed or unimpressed by his friend’s oblivion. 

“She really does those things?” Johnny asks. He tries to hide his surprise, but his furrowed brows and agape mouth give it away.

Yuta facepalms. “Oh my gosh, you’re unbelievable”.

But it didn’t matter. Now that that information was in Johnny’s hands, he was now planning out his next move. 

⋆*̣̥☆·͙̥‧❄•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥˟͙☃˟͙‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥❄‧·͙̥̣☆*̣̥ ⋆

“And…we’re done for today! Great work y’all!” As three of you wrap up your work for the day, Wendy affirms the whole group.

“So how’s it been living with Johnny?” Wendy asks you as the three of you sit down at her table with the packet drinks she offered.

“It’s been going well so far,” you answer, taking a sip of your drink. “It’s really great to have him around the house so far”. 

“Why? So you both can get more couple time together?” Seulgi looks up from her drink with a grin on her face.

“Oh please, Johnny and I aren’t married,” you scoff. “We’ve been nothing but best friends for so long”. 

“That could change,” Wendy pipes up, and you shoot her a joking glare. Maybe you should never have told them you were beginning to crush on your best friend. “Okay but seriously, y/n, when are you going to tell him you like him?” 

“Never ever,” you reply, hoping your monotone could convey the finality of that decision to your friends. “We’re just friends, always will be, because he doesn’t like me back that way”.

“Ah ah, that’s where you’re wrong,” Seulgi argues. “You don’t happen to be a mind-reader, do you, y/n?”

“No, but-“

“Then how would you know Johnny doesn’t feel the same way? The only way to know for sure is to tell him how you feel first, and then see how he responds,” Seulgi cuts you off and offers her advice.

“But if he doesn’t feel the same way it’ll make things awkward between both of us,” you object, voicing your concerns.

“And if he does? y/n, if none of you make the first move, Johnny could well end up with someone else. I’ve seen Minjeong ogling at him already, you know,” Wendy adds. The last bit of information wasn’t true, but knowing that three of you shared a common dislike towards said girl, Wendy spun the tale in a bid to jolt you into action faster. 

“Wait, are you serious?” You stare at Wendy and Seulgi with wide eyes, and feel your heart sink to the pit of your stomach as they nod. 

“So, unless you want that bitch to get to your Prince Charming first, I suggest you quicken things and confess,” Seulgi advises.

That piece of information fills you with a new kind of determination, and you decide to take your chances. “Okay, that does it. I’m telling him how I feel, and if he doesn’t like me back that way, I guess I’ll see if he wants to remain friends or drift apart,” you decide. 

“Atta girl. How do you plan to do it?” Seulgi inquires. 

You pause in your tracks. “I don’t know, actually,” you admit. “I don’t really have any plan in mind”.

Three of you sit in silence, trying to formulate a plan for your confession. “Hmm, Christmas is coming soon, right? You could write him a note and attach it to his Christmas gift,” Wendy suggests. 

“Ooh, or you could just attach the note to the fridge on Christmas morning, when Johnny’s still sleeping,” Seulgi offers an alternative. “Then you park yourself in a spot you both like, maybe the cafe that you both frequent, and tell him to come find you there after he reads the note if he wants to talk”.

You process the suggestions that they just gave you, but eventually decide to go with Seulgi’s idea. “Thanks guys! Guess I have a plan now,” you smile.

“No problem. Girls help girls,” Wendy answers with a laugh. “Let us know how it goes”.

⋆*̣̥☆·͙̥‧❄•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥˟͙☃˟͙‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥❄‧·͙̥̣☆*̣̥ ⋆

On Christmas eve, you learn one thing — the person who coined the saying “easier said than done” was absolutely right. 

You had been so confident the days leading up to Christmas — writing and re-writing your note to him, asking Wendy and Seulgi for advice, and rehearsing what you would say to him after he reads the note. 

But now, at 8 am in the morning, you’re standing in front of your fridge, clad in your favourite winter coat and beanie, hand moving to place the note on the fridge door before removing it again. 

Is this really a good idea? What if he rejects me? Will I be able to handle the pain that comes after? A million questions race through your head as you contemplate your decision. Screw it, let’s just do this, you decide, and reach for a magnet on the fridge.

A hand comes out of nowhere and reaches out for the same magnet. “Oh, I’m sorry, you can use that,” a familiar voice sounds next to your ear, making you jump. 

“Johnny! Why are you up so early?” you ask, genuinely surprised. Johnny’s not a morning person — he’ll take any opportunity to sleep in. To see him up so early in the morning on a holiday was probably an event that should be recorded in history books.

“Oh, erm, I just — have somewhere to be later,” Johnny garbles out a reply somewhat hesitantly as he fiddles with the earmuffs around his neck. “I wanted to leave you a note before I left, but I suppose I can just pass it to you now?”

“Sure thing,” you answer, taking the piece of paper from him. You assumed it would be something simple, such as asking you to pick up something from the store or to let you know where he’d be. 

“Do you mind passing me yours as well? I can just read it now,” Johnny suggests before you can properly register the first word on his note. 

You hesitate, thinking your options over. If you told him no and just left the note on the fridge before scurrying off, he would still read it anyway. If you told him yes and complied — same result. Oh well. “Here you go,” you say, praying that he doesn’t see how your hands are trembling ever so slightly. Your heart thuds like a galloping horse as you watch him scan your note — the moment of truth was near. In a bid to distract yourself, you read his note to you.

Y/n:

I’ve kept this secret to myself for way too long, and I need to get it off my chest, so I’ll say it here now — I love you, as more than just my best friend. 

There’s so many things about you that made me fall for you. For one, we share the same sense of humour — you’re the only person I know who will talk about weird shit with me the whole night until we’re in stitches from laughing, wondering if we need mental help. I really appreciate the things you do for me, be it taking care of me when I’m sick, cooking my favourite dishes, or remembering even small details that I mention to you. Another reason is that you’ve been my best friend for so long, there’s this level of comfort and understanding that’s exclusive to the both of us. I don’t know — there’s something about being in your presence that brings me this warm sense of comfort and joy, and it’s more than words can describe. Of course there’s more reasons, but if I went on this note will never end. 

I know that this is very sudden, and I understand that you may need time to think it over, so take as long as you need, and meet me at the cafe beside school when you’re ready to talk. Merry Christmas, y/n.

You read and re-read the note multiple times with what you’re sure is a visible gawk on your face. Johnny likes me too? Is this a dream? You pinch yourself hard, and soon realise you’re really not dreaming. 

“Dude, you like me too?” Johnny’s voice disrupts your train of thought, and you shyly nod as you look up from the piece of paper, now slightly crumpled due to the tightness of your grip on it. Disbelief, surprise and then joy make their way onto his face in quick succession, before he lunges for you like a golden retriever and pulls you into a big hug. “Oh my gosh, I was so afraid you didn’t feel the same way, and that I’d ruin our friendship,” he mumbles. 

“Honestly, same here John,” you reply, head resting on his shoulder. “But I’m glad now I know, because I can finally confidently say that I love you — as more than just my best friend”. Your next move surprises Johnny — before you both break the hug, you press a chaste kiss to his lips. His stunned expression amuses you to no end, and you end up chortling at how he raises his fingers to his lips in disbelief. 

But when he overcomes the surprise, he pulls you in once more for another kiss, this time one that’s longer and a bit deeper. You savour everything about the kiss, from the feel of his lips on yours to the taste of his chocolate lip balm. 

“Wow, what a way to start our Christmas,” Johnny chuckles as you both pull away for oxygen. “Merry Christmas, y/n. I love you”.

You smile at your friend, heart bursting with more joy, love and warmth than you’d ever felt in your whole life. “Merry Christmas, Johnny. I love you”. 

taglist: @moonsclover @bangchan-fairy

[anincompletelist]

Sarah!!!! Tell me anything about the age gap fic, pretty please???

SURE THING FRIEND :D

so this guy is BRAND new and mostly just a brain dump for now, but I'm thinking henry runs the shelter and alex is an agency lawyer that they have on retainer. henry's far past his oxford days, if you will, and finds himself becoming more and more withdrawn, always at the shelter or trying to work on his rough idea for a novel, feeling rewarded by the work he does but still unfulfilled personally. when he meets alex he's immediately intrigued by how exuberant he is (and his clear interest in henry) despite his own reservations about their ten-ish year age difference (mid 20's and late 30's). I have all of one scene written for it sjhdksjhd which I will leave under the cut! xx

+

“You don’t like being called that,” Henry notes softly, recalling the way Alex had immediately become agitated at the insinuation that he wasn’t mature enough to take on the project. 

“Keen observation, sweetheart,” he tosses Henry a wry smile over the rim of his drink, then sobers as he forces an exhale through his nose and turns to face the crowded room once again. “No. I don’t.” 

“I’m sensing a bit of a story there,” Henry pushes, treading carefully. 

He and Alex have a good rapport at least in a professional and somewhat friendly sense, and he doesn’t want his curiosity to draw up any walls between them. Luckily, as per usual, Alex doesn’t seem hesitant to share. 

“Well, my sister and I basically had to raise ourselves when our parents started fighting and my dad split, so. I’ve shouldered a hell of a lot more responsibility than any other kid should have had to.” 

“Is that why you started working for KIND?” 

“Partially. It is rewarding, of course. Helping people that are in the same positions that my sister and I could have ended up in,” he explains. “But I also just— I just like helping people. In general, in any way I can.” 

“That’s very admirable, Alex,” Henry smiles. “We’re lucky to have you here.” 

“I’m lucky to be here,” he grins, his shoulders finally dropping back down to their normal stance. He taps a finger on his glass, inclining his head toward Henry again as he gestures out at the crowd. “What the two of you are doing with all of this— it’s really special, Henry. You should take pride in that.” 

Henry feels his face heat. “It’s mostly Pez. He handles all of the big things, networking, socializing. Getting people involved and making them feel welcome. Most of my work is behind the scenes.” 

“Henry,” Alex says again, shaking his head. “This place wouldn’t be half of what it is today without you. You do know that, don’t you?” 

“That’s— that’s very kind of you. Truly.”

Henry gulps down the remainder of his drink, desperate to hold onto Alex’s attention for just the slightest bit longer, even if he doesn’t believe the platitude himself.

+

[bugeyedfreaks]

Hi, hello! I have something to say.

For the fandom and the rowdyruff boys. I went through your page and found myself agreeing hardcore with a lot of your opinions about the fandom and ppgxrrb.

First of all, I have absolutely no idea of who came up with Butch growing up to be a massive pervert. Going off the show, wouldn't technically all three of the boys be massive perverts? They are all misogynistic slime balls who see girls as inferior.

Some things I think the fandom gets right; the boys are pretty. at least cute. For two reasons, 1; they are splitting images of the girls, so if the boys are ugly then so are the girls. 2, canonically, Bubbles has admitted that she finds Boomer "cute." Also despite the ass kicking handed to the girls in the first appearance of the rrb, Blossom and Bubbles fawn at the prospect of having kissed a boy.

Then again they kissed Harry.

Also, I think a good argument is kid rrb IS cute, but they get that sort of golden child treatment where all 3 of them just eventually end up burning out. They don't care to keep up with themselves and with how gross and mysoginistic they are, they become very unattractive very quickly. They rot, basically. Also if they were discord mods, they'd have kittens they brag their rrb title too.

I will also argue that there is nuance in the boys. Boomer atleast, which is funny because he is the least popular rrb. There are many instances where he is depicted as "naive", "child like" and even "gentle." Like yeah, he was the guy who wrote "Flowers are pretty... dumb" but when he was revived from Him, he was waving at butterflies and being taken advantage of by his brothers. If you wanna go deeper, in the comic the boys actually team up with the girls in one instance.

Still, I see the rowdyruff boys in the same vein as the gang green gang. It's like trying to defend Billy because he has that one episode where he saves the girls after setting them up, but it's like people forget that the girls still had to pummel him because... in the grand scheme of things, the guy is a shitty person! The rrb suffer from major pretty privellege and being the hetero counterparts of the girls, age included. Forget all the other side characters like Elmer, Mitch, Robin even mike! No the gorls grow up to want the boys because, 'they can change them!' Oh my gosh Bubbles suffers drastically from this.

And "the reds" are so toxic it's sad. It's like every fic with them is angsty and incredibly shallow. I never get why Blossom spends so much time running back to Brick. Oh yeah! It's because he's so big and hot now, with fiery red hair and a masculine jaw line, and is cunning and calculative and he suffers from severe mommy issues. He needs a woman like Blossom to show him how much of a prick he is! To put him in his place and tell other women off who have interest in him, because how could a woman lower her standards so much for a punk, Blossom would never (#FEMINISM). Then arranging "private visits" with him so they can make out and talk about how arrogant they both are because "ooh. We're so bad for each other but it feels soooo good. So deep. so bad."

I love how the fandom pretends Blossom is above it all, but still some how succumbs to him. "She can fix him guys! No really! We just have to make Blossom into an absolute self-contradicting prude and have Brick loosen up because... convenience!"

And people seriously bend the hell out of Butch to get him to work with Buttercup, more than 90% of the fics basically make him into a Mitch stand in with powers but this one is hotter2.0. bUTCH LITERALLY HAS NO CHARACTER AND HONESTLY, Buttercup has been repulsed by him many times. She'd yeet that guy so fast, and yet, somehow, the greens are the most popular couple I CAN NOOOOOOOOOT. Like how... really. Why does Butch get so much fanon development? The fandom tries so hard to make him into this character he simply is not! Like even going to the city of clipsville episode, the most salacious thing the fucker has done is "looked at a magazine and whistled!" But like how come Buttercup is so smitten by this that she never, once, snaps out of her "attraction" to the guy? Was this not the same issue Buttercup suffered from ACE.

Wouldn't the idea of being taken advantage of by a villain, turn Buttercup off!?

I just can not imagine Buttercup tolerating Butch- unless he is super hot now and she's internally attracted to him, because nobody gets her like this deprived fuck boy who is misunderstood, and actually a romantic guy who cares about her under it all and blood thirsty- excpet when Buttercup is around, because Buttercup can fix him and "he knows not to mess with her!"

It was so funny seeing the push back for the cw's take, when literally reading that script reminded me of all the fanfics I have had to dig through for YEARS now. I was just thinking "but isn't this what you guys WANT?" And some people were even fretting that it'd attract unwanted parts of society to the fandom. Um. I don't know if the ppg fandom is aware of this, but the fandom is already FLOODED with unwated fans, from fetish artists, to those Pintresest face claim boards that remind me of RIVERDALE, the games have already started!

That one slip of a comic, that was supposed to be a joke, of the boys handing the girls flowers and asking to be their boyfriends is way too meta.

Oh, wow, I didn’t know a lot about how some of the pairings are portrayed (obviously, since I don’t really explore that side of the fandom often) but… well, some of that certainly gave me psychic damage, especially the Blossom stuff. 🤢 I can’t even begin to express the pain I felt from reading all of that but this is the closest I can attempt to describe it with:

I agree that all of the boys would be huge pervs, but I think Butch at least being the perviest would track. If, being Buttercup’s counterpart, he also expresses extremes in his primal emotions, that would just be another primal emotion he’d express to the extreme. Just in super gross ways no girl would ever find appealing.

As for Billy, I will sort of defend him because, out of the entire gang, he has a peanut brain (affectionate), and I think, without the influence of the other guys, he would be a good boy. He still definitely needed to get punished for what he did to the girls though. 🤣 But yeah, I think the main difference between the GGG and the RRB is that, if separated, the GGG could… potentially… be good, and have been shown to have varied nuance, whereas the RRB are Pure Evil and Like That no matter what, and there’s like 100% less nuance to them.

But you’re so right about the CW thing, it really did feel a bit like the kind of stuff people have been writing for years. Also, yeah, wow, despite PPG fandom being rather fractured, it has unfortunately already suffered from a lot of, to put it politely, unpleasantness. If “unwanted” fans flooded in… well, what else is new? 😮‍💨

…man, there was a lot here, and I appreciate it all, and agree with a lot of it. Thank you for the ask! 💖

[liauditore]

LIAU MY BELOVED

ask game question

Jimmy x Martyn

:D

romeo asking for mirror birds in MY ask box?!!?!??!?!?! (i know u pref mirror birds but solidwood is too funny im so sorry)

ah yeah. these losers.

see, a lot of my thoughts surrounding these two would kind of spoil my own AU that i never make stuff for so im usually somewhat hesitant to talk about them but basically., (toxic!fh mention)

post-evo divorced property police is so real. ive always imagined it as a childhood friends situation, with martyn being a bit older than jimmy.

they probably caught feelings for eachother fairly late and already well into teenhood but neither of them were really sure what it was (this is maybe going a little bit into sexuality hc territory but ive always imagined jimmy as whatever the male equivalent of a useless lesbian is and martyns biphobic towards himself lmao).

i touched on this briefly in that one fic i wrote but i've always headcanoned martyn as being somewhat parentified and thus ties his worthiness to be loved into his ability to perform acts of service for someone rather than just.. existing and letting himself be loved.

so as jimmy became more independent, martyn becomes a bit more insecure about their friendship. this becomes a bit of a self-fulfilling prophecy as he distances himself from jimmy, feeling like jimmy wouldn't love him if he didn't Need him, and jimmy in return feels confused and hurt as he helplessly watches someone he knew all his life drift away.

that + jimmy has this not-so-subtle crush on scott that martyn's always suspected. he's a jealous bitch.

The storm formed after a final sip, my fingertips frozen solid, I pretend that again I can see, you past the rails, ready to meet And I wonder is it too much to ask, to once more, hold you warm in my hands? To accept I can’t forget, and embrace what still fails to fade?

Milk Tea (Oktavia's translyrics) (because I wasn't kidding when I said these two were cheesy yuri to me lmao)

we had a clown to clown communication moment i think cus I also love the idea of them splitting up and meeting in Third Life years and years later (altho i like to imagine it as more of a voluntary separation).

some stuff copy+pasted from that cursed shipping doc i mentioned awhile back: ((scott + jimmy became a thing while martyn was gone pre-3L))

Now reuniting in 3L as fully grown adults after years apart, all those suppressed emotions come bubbling back up to the surface. An adult Martyn is much less unsure about what he's feeling and Jimmy still has those fantasies of what could have been playing on loop in his head. Of course, Jimmy is still attached to Scott and can't abandon his Bethrothed. He loves and knows what's best for him, he would sooner die than forsake his loyalty. But it does hurt when he hits him. Martyn still cares for Jimmy deeply, whether he wants to or not. He takes the time to keep an eye out for him, even though they had no real reason to interact anymore. He becomes one of the only people to realise what Scott was like with him, how devoid of love it all was. He throws out a line, offers to help him run away. Jimmy refuses. Betrayal. A second time. For the same man. Who cares about Jimmy anyway? (he always did take me for granted)

(a little note here before anyone sets me on fire - time works a bit differently in my writing and the players don't have exact ages but jimmy and martyn's age gap is probably not as dramatic as their cc counterparts)

(it's still there but neither of them even recognise their feelings as remotely romantic until they reunite as adults, as kids it's all just them being silly and having grade school drama with each other)

So uh yeah lots of mutual pining and suppressed feelings and puppy love turned angst👍 tis all i shall say cus i wanna make art of the rest lol

Just a second to lessen the ache, or minute to kiss it away I’d give all I have for the chance to go back to youth and you

[space-helen]

Sleeping Beauty

Words: 1046

Pairing: Greg Sanders x Reader

A/N: I changed it to just a kidnap story after talking to the requested about the episode. I basically haven’t seen it in forever and I won’t be able to watch it for a while. I hope this is ok!

Request:  i was wondering if you don’t mind of course, could you make a greg sanders x reader fic where it’s set during the episode Skin in The Game from season 13, but instead of morgan being kidnapped, it’s reader ?  - totomoshi

______________________

“She’s what?” Greg's voice was puzzled as he spoke.

“Been abducted. We have a pretty good idea who took her.” Nick spoke as he put his hands out in front of him, ready to catch Greg if he went to dash out of the room.

“How? Is she ok?” The man was panicking now, the realisation setting in. He’d last seen you about three hours ago when the two of you split off to work on different things. 

“I’ll fill you in on the way. Come on, we think we have her location.”

The room had been spinning and dropping in and out of vision for god only knew how long. Defeated you dropped your head to the ground again.

“Tired?” a voice mocked you with a laugh “Shame, I thought we were just getting started.”

Your head rolled slightly on the ground as you heard the person moving around the room again. 

He sighed “The other girls had a lot more fight in them. I suppose this higher dosage is better in a way.”

His words were clear but you couldn’t entirely register what he was saying.

Approaching you, and crouching down, the man moved some hair out of your face and admired you before moving his hands under your armpits to pick you up into a sitting position. 

“Can’t have you lying down on the floor, beautiful. That wouldn’t be fair of me. I have to give you some dignity” standing up he picked you up and half dragged and carried you towards the table in the centre of the room. 

The table had been covered in a white cloth and flowers with a pillow at one end, a beautiful resting place in his eyes. Placing you on top you tried to roll off the table but he was quick to grab you.

“Don’t make me ruin the picture.” he threatened.

His words were clear and you definitely heard them, you stilled knowing the others were probably looking for you and you wanted to get out of this alive. His past victims had all struggled in their final moments, you hoped his intention wasn’t to kill you just yet.

Moving around he re-arranged some of the flowers around you before picking up a comb and styling your hair. Taking a small tiara clip he placed it into your hair.

“My sleeping beauty.” you felt his hand on the side of your face when a loud bang caught your attention.

Head lulling on the pillow you tried to look around for the noise.

“Put your hands up. Put your hands up right now.” Nick shouted with his gun drawn and other officers beside him. Greg following in behind him his eyes met your form straight away.

He waited until the officers had grabbed the suspect and he crossed the room quickly to you. “Y/N. Y/N it’s me Greg.” his hand came to your face before moving to your hair to pull out the tiara.

“Greg?” you confirmed, pushing yourself up the best you could into a sitting position as your head continued to spin.

“I’ve got you.” he wrapped his arms around you and brought you into an embrace. “We’ve got you. You’re safe.” 

You rested your head on his shoulder as he watched the suspect being cuffed and dragged to his feet over yours, before the man was dragged out of the room.

“Is she alright?” Nick asked, slightly out of breath.

“No.” Greg said quietly and shook his head. “She feels weak. Probably drugged like the rest.”

You relaxed your body further into his and Greg felt it. Knowing the drug concoction was taking over your system you felt comforted knowing Greg was right there for you. 

You mustered up all of your strength to speak “higher dosage.” your words were quiet and somewhat slurred.

The man supported you more and bought his hand to your hair, holding you comfortingly  as he rubbed patterns into your back “It’s alright, we’ve got you. Stay awake for me though.” You nodded against him.

The paramedics were soon in the room and taking you from him. You tried to respond the best you could and stayed awake for the most part. Hours later, after processing the scene, questioning the suspect and making the arrest Greg was finally allowed to leave, rushing to the hospital he was quick to find you.

You smiled as he entered your room.

“How’s the patient doing?”

“I have a headache but I’m ok.” you reassured as he perched himself on the seat next to your bed.

“I’m glad I’m really glad.” 

You shifted on the bed for a second “They said I can leave if I want to. Suggested that I have someone to watch over me though just in case since I might be weaker than usual for a little while.”

“I’m more than happy to.”

“I didn’t even ask you.” you laughed 

“You never have to Y/N. I love you and it’s the least I can do.”

“I love you too, thank you.” you reached over for your glass of water and took a sip “Can you call a Doctor so I can get the ball rolling on leaving?”

He nodded and stood up “Eager to get out of here huh?”

“Wouldn’t you be? I just want to go home and shower.” you joked.

He put his hands up in defence “I get it I get it.” he smiled left to retrieve a doctor.

Eventually, you were home, snuggled up in bed with the man you loved beside you. Arms wrapped around you he brought you in closer to him, you’d been through a lot together and you both knew of the dangers that this job had. He’d do anything to keep you safe and today was a reminder of that.

Placing a kiss on your head he relaxed into the mattress more. “I’m sorry today happened.”

“It’s not your fault.” you whispered “and we’ve been through worse. We’re both safe and healthy right now. That’s all that matters.”

“You always have a positive outlook.” he joked picking up the remote for the TV.

“In this job, you have too.” you hugged the man tighter and snuggled closer to him as he turned off the TV.

Tag List: (open)

CSI: @perasperaadastrawriting

[k-s-morgan]

Hello! I made a Tumblr account just so that I can tell you how amazing your writing is and how awesome you are! I watched Hannibal just so I could read more of your stories - the way that you keep shifting the power dynamics and building up these obsessive relationships creates some of the most intense and best stories that I have ever read. Do you ever think of writing a story with original characters that you might try publishing? (I would definitely buy and read it!)

Also, thank you so much for the personal updates that you do about yourself and Ukraine. I am so sorry for everything you and your country has been experiencing with Russia. I think you are remarkable with your communications and how much good you are putting out in the world despite the horror you and your country are being put through. I wish you and your loved ones all the best. Thank you for everything you do!

Hello! Oh wow, I really appreciate it! It's so flattering that you decided to watch the entire show just to read my fics, and I'm happy that you enjoyed them! I love obsessive characters, and I love obsessive, dark relationships between them even more. If you're interested, I have a Hannigram AU one-shot here that I didn't post to AO3.

As for original novels, I actually have three published romance stories, but I wrote them when I was like 17, and two of them are M/F. I don’t talk about them often because my style has evolved over the years, and the ideas and execution in them are probably problematic - and not in a good way!

My first book was Until Hell Freezes Over. It’s a semi-dark Gothic M/F romance with a twist that takes it from a more ordinary genre to a somewhat supernatural one. Ironically, I got most attached to my gay dark secondary character who’s in unrequited love with the main character. I just couldn’t get into M/F to the extent I wanted. I love this story in a way, it's my baby, and it has an interesting way of character development, but I wrote it because I naively hoped to gain more attention in the M/F market, not because I was really inspired. And both protagonists are not the best people in shallow and grounded ways.

My second book was Layers of Freesia. It’s a short and far less serious M/F romance. Basically, they met, they fought, they made up, all in 100 or so pages. I love my female character there - some readers mentioned she’s autistic, and while I didn’t think of it when I was writing, I believe it fits. She holds a special place in my heart.

My third book was All Roads Lead to Hades. It’s a short M/M obsession-based novel. Some readers mentioned it’s rushed, and it might be so because I was excited to be finally writing in the genre I wanted and I had a specific deadline by which I needed it to be done) I’ve never re-read it and didn’t have the heart to edit it. 

I have 200 pages of another dark M/M romance written, and I do intend to finish and publish it at some late date. Here’s the synopsis I wrote back in 2016.

There were times when the Lettvin-Nostrand Empire was one of strongest, full of pureblood nobility who possessed powerful magic and feared no one. But seduced by the promises of more freedom from a neighboring Empire, the society split up, unleashing war that had been ravaging their own territory until Emperor Glacirien had enough.

Ruthless and cruel, Glacirien is feared by his enemies and his own people alike because the abilities he possesses are like no others. He puts an end to the war and keeps ruling over his burned Empire, not letting it heal, condemning people to suffer and die from starvation and diseases for their betrayal. When he visits one of the dying villages, he meets a golden-haired young man who evokes feelings in him Glacirien never expected to experience.

Caelus is warm. Caelus embodies the light and the brightness remaining in this world, and Glacirien is growing obsessed with him.

Caught in a dangerous web of political intrigues, betrayals, love, and his own dark nature, he has to tread carefully in order to preserve the remains of his country… for however weak Caelus’ magic is, in the end, he might be the person destined to destroy Glacirien’s Empire for

I have a prologue for it posted here.

Last year, I published a small book with short war-related stories. It felt healing to write it.

Also, thank you so much for your kind words about my country, me, and my people! It really means a lot. I still cannot believe this is our life now... Even sleeping a night properly, with no attacks and alarms, is a blessing. It should never be this way for anyone, but unfortunately, I doubt the guilty Russians will ever learn.

[hexenmond]

A dreamling fic idea

Haven't posted here in forever, and the first thing pouring out of me is a wild writing prompt I came up with today, having spent more than two months devouring dreamling fanfic (which is wild in itself, maybe I'll write about that as well. The devouring I mean).

Most of the idea comes from À Cœur Vaillant by WyvernQuill. It's a fishbowl rescue fic, but the one who does the actual rescuing is a still very young Alex Burgess, who in turn gets saved from his father's ire by Paul McGuire. So that's lovely. (Go read it!)

And in general I like it when people who have done shitty things come around at some point. Like Hob got involved in the slave trade and came to see just how wrong that was. Because we're humans, and we fuck up sometimes, and it can take us a long time to be able to see it – and then what happens? How do we deal with our own shittiness once it has irrevocably happened? Do we try to be better, or shy away from the mess?

So I thought, what if Dream's in the bowl, and Alex shoots Jessamy, and old Roderick dies, and Alex is left with a prisoner he never wanted but is too cowardly to set free (canon so far). And Paul tells him it's wrong, repeatedly, but is a coward himself, so nothing actually changes.

But some time before 1989, Paul McGuire finds it within himself to put his foot down – and there are several interesting things that could make this change of heart happen. Possibly a coincidental chat with a certain immortal about regrets, or just some life event that shakes him awake. And he goes to Alex and says, hey, this is wrong and can't go on. In your heart of hearts, you know that as well as I do. We should free him, even if that means we'll die. We aren't free while he is not free.

And Alex protests and all of course, and tries to talk him out of it again, and panics, and flips his shit – but when Paul is still determined after some days and takes him by the hand to go downstairs, he goes along. Scared to death, but between knowing Paul is right and loving him, he doesn't fight.

So Paul stands before the fishbowl, scared but determined, holding Alex next to him, who is on the verge of collapsing, and he addresses Dream, basically saying something along the lines of "we should have done this straight after the old codger died, and we didn't out of cowardice, but now we're going to set you free, and hope that you have some mercy on us for this". And he breaks the circle and the glass, or whatever it takes.

Now, this might happen just very shortly before Dream's scheduled meeting with Hob, and like I've read in a couple of other fics, Dream might have been agonising over having to miss this appointment. So getting to go after all might just temper his wrath the teensiest bit, if not immediately then maybe at a later point.

I can see this going two ways at this point: he takes great pleasure in trapping Alex in eternal nightmares for killing Jessamy, the guards as well for good measure, but he leaves Paul unscathed for being the driving force behind his release and doing it before June 7th, 1989. And then he storms off to find his tools and sulk and get ready for his not-date.

Or, he does that but Paul has already geared himself up to be incredibly brave that day and so dares to ask what Dream has done to Alex, and Dream says "best of my nightmares around the clock", and Paul takes one deep breath and then begs him to split the nightmares between them both, so that they would share nightmares every night but still be awake together during the day. And Dream says, oh well, your funeral, and makes it so, and then storms off.

In both cases Paul is very miserable (nightmares every night forever is bound to leave you permanently sleep-deprived, or else he has to live with Alex's screams and permasleep). And at some point he might speak to Hob. Again, bundle of possible scenarios:

he'd talked to Hob before (see above) and they have some previous acquaintance;

he just washes up in The New Inn like a commoner and starts drinking, and Hob is a barkeeper with many years of experience;

they might talk while Dream is still picking up his tools and before the appointment, or afterwards.

And at some point Hob makes some connection, depending on this and also how open Dream is after his imprisonment.

Since I personally feel that revenge does not bring lasting satisfaction, let alone joy, I could see Hob helping Dream grieve Jessamy, and also appreciate the understanding he gained while in involuntary timeout. And maybe he relents after some time, maybe because he took a good look at Alex and Paul's nightmares. Or gives them a task to accomplish.

The end? I don't know. Depends on the story you want to tell, who and what it's really about. But I like the premise, is what I wanted to say.

[dragoneyes618]

4. What fandom’s/ship’s fan fiction do you read the most?

6. What’s the last thing you read that made you laugh?

17. Describe a fic that is still in the ‘ideas’ stage.

19. What’s your favorite character headcanon? (Could you do this for Claudine or either of the Hook siblings, please?)

4. Descendants and Coco, with Warrior Cats and Encanto a close second.

6. This one part in Dracula, when Mina's writing in her diary "I wonder where Jonathan is and if he is thinking of me!" And considering this came just a couple of chapters after Jonathan's journal, where every other page he's mentioning Mina and how he longs to see her again and what she would say and how she gives him hope etc etc....I just found it funny.

17. A fic inspired by Never Again by RubyofRaven. The basic premise of Never Again is that no villain is allowed to have more than one child on the Isle; as soon as a second (or third, or fourth...up to however many children a villain has) child is born, the first child is taken off the Isle and brought to Auradon.

The Isle doesn't know that, though. They have no idea what happens to the children who are taken away.

So, for example, CJ Hook is growing up on the Isle and never met her two older siblings.

But this applies to all kids on the Isle. None of them knew their older siblings. They all know that if they ever have a younger sibling, they will be taken away forever.

But, and this is what my fanfiction will be about....what about Mal and Hadie?

They are siblings. Half siblings? Full siblings? Older? Younger? They don't know, and they don't say, and they don't dare ask, for as soon as anyone finds out they're siblings, one of them will be taken away, never to be seen again.

19. Character headcanon for Claudine: She has pyrophobia, for obvious reasons. But she also absolutely adores small children. I have no idea if this is a fandom-accepted headcanon or just one that only I've thought of. Oh well.

Character headcanon for the Hooks: The thing is, there are very few groups of siblings on the Isle. There are many only children, a few pairs of siblings or cousins, but the Hooks are the only set of three siblings on the Isle aside from the Gaston twins and Gil, and an indeterminate amount of Tremaines.

So why don't they stick together? Why don't they form their own crew, instead of splitting up?

The thing is, each of the Hooks had a deep-rooted fear of abandonment, of betrayal, of being left alone. This is especially, especially prevalent in CJ, but the others have it as well, and to no small extent too.

Maybe it's because their mother left them to be raised by Hook. Maybe it's just a natural insecurity. But, regardless, it is what it is.

The Hooks look around at the Isle, and what do they see? They see no set of siblings being united.

They see Mal and Hadie who refuse to acknowledge that the other is kin to them.

They see the Gaston twins, who despise their younger brother as a weakling.

They see Zevon, who joined CJ in her attempted takeover of Auradon, and Yzla, who joined the Anti-Heroes club.

No set of siblings is united. No set of siblings is together.

If that's what it's like for every set of siblings they know, why should they be any different?

And so they split up. They do not verbalize it; perhaps they are not even conscious of it. But they do not trust themselves and each other to remain together for long.

And this doesn't just apply to each other. The fear of abandonment applies to every friendship, every alliance, they form.

If I'm the captain, and I'm a good captain, and I take care of everybody and I lead them well, than no one would ever want to betray me, right?

If I'm the first mate, and I'm a good first mate, and I do absolutely everything my captain says, then I'll always get to be the first mate, I'll always have my crew, because they won't have any reason not to like me, right?

If I don't have any crew at all, no friends allies or anything, except when I really really really need to, then no one can leave me because I won't be close to anyone in the first place, right?

Right?

Send me some fanfic asks!

[nitewrighter]

Hi! I'm very new to the overwatch Fandom and am currently obsessing over your fan kids (specifically Seye bc I don't see a lot of doom content and I love him) ANYWAY, doomfist does die, right? If so, who is it that kills him, and how do Seye and his mother react? I did read the post about Seye eventually destroying the doomfist with some help, but am super curious about some of what happens in between and after :>

Wow! Asks that make me dig through my ancient 'Marsey' tag.

To be honest, I used to be SUPER protective and vague when it came to stuff at this stage of the story I wanted to tell with my fankids, and was also being sadly dangled along by Blizzard's breadcrumbs of lore---I was in a dance with Blizzard where, I did have a very strong idea of how I wanted the story to end, but I was also dependent on Blizzard for canon lore so that I could make my ending the most accurate, the most satisfying. But seeing as there's basically only lore drops now because Blizzard no longer gives a shit about continuity or quality, and basically the cast has expanded so much since I initially plotted it out that I'll probably have to reconfigure this ending in some capacity anyway, I can talk about it now.

Basically there were two avenues I could have taken with Doomfist, the first one, that actually had those Marsey fics, where it was basically a 'continuation' of the Doomfist cycle, that is, some guy challenges Doomfist for the gauntlet and is able to kill him and take the gauntlet, which obviously puts Seye into a lurch as Doomfist's son and the previously assumed successor. I literally didn't have a name for this would-be killer, and in a way, it didn't really matter because you as the reader weren't supposed to see Doomfist's killer as the rightful bearer of the mantle and Seye's whole arc would be defeating this guy (with Marti's help) and then basically shutting down the weird Metal Gear-esque war cult that's risen around the Doomfist gauntlet as a symbol.

The other option was that Doomfist would be killed in the Final Battle™ at Nepal by... drumroll... Junkrat and Roadhog. NOW BEFORE YOU YELL AT ME, Junkrat and Roadhog would also die in this fight. Roadhog would die before Junkrat, but Junkrat would basically be talking to a very clearly bled-out-past-the-point-of-no-return-and-unconscious Roadie like, "It's okay, Roadie, you can take a nap. I can wrap this up," Before pulling all of the pins on all the grenades on his little chest harness while clinging onto Doomfist. Okay you can yell at me more now. But mostly I loved the combination of dramatic irony of Doomfist being consumed in these fires of chaos, and of the ~Junkers~ of all people going out in a blaze of glory against one of Overwatch's Final Bosses. I had this in my brain for years before Junkrat even got his "I killed the Doomfist!!" elimination line, btw. Doomfist views conflict as its own sort of order, but ends up getting killed by the wacky Mad Max randos who have kind of been the comic relief this whole time. Basically the fact that the Doomfist gauntlet itself would also be destroyed in this kind of fight would aslo be the thing that ends the cycle. That was also the battle that was vaguely referenced in this fic.

In both potential deaths for Doomfist, Seye becomes disillusioned enough with Talon as an organization to basically split off and form his own splinter mercenary organization (I was going to use my Talon Goon OC's as his starting lineup, haha), and he also attempts to create his own mantle as "Earthshaker" but he's still deeply affected by Doomfist's death because that's so much of his identity and he's had this enormous fear of irrelevance all of his life. Like this isn't just the grief of losing a father, this is the threat of oblivion that he's dreaded his entire life. As for Seye's mother, Tejuka, it's less of a blow to her--she more or less came to terms with the fact that Doomfist really doesn't have the philosophy or lifestyle to "go peacefully in his sleep," and that's one of the reasons why they divorced and she put so much effort into grooming Seye to actually be the successor of Ogundimu Prosthetics. Dying is easy, living's harder, etc, etc.