#so i'll update the fic with it lol

[saeldu]

my take on xie lian's lunar new year look in @ardenrabbit's fic, a long and slow recovery

hopefully i've done it some justice ♥︎

[mochindayo]

Oh, So much cat fur || L/A/DS Z/ayne x MC

I made an ao3 a bit ago. I've been a lurker on there since...idk...years, but. I'm going to uhh...i think post fics there too haha. may or may not see some crossposting. i'm being wild and it's also going to have regular fics (haha, that is if i decide i'm writing in the first place xD) there's one snz fic and one vanilla fic right now lol. Am i nervous? sure, but like- also i've lost it, idk. here we are. anyways. I'm so into LADS rn. here we are. i want to write more, but i always say that, write one thing, and disappear for another 5 months. maybe i'll change, who knows. I’m taking advantage of my motivation while I’ve got it rn

the portal, to...a fic in my ao3 lol. but i'll also put the fic here under the cut...because..why not?

Zayne, sneezing, because little kitty Zayne is choking on his own fur!!?? HUH!? OK SIR!?

======================

Zayne was always a neat and orderly person. It irked him that he was the cause of the copious amount of cat hair that was beginning to collect–on him and his furniture. 

Ever since the bizarre event that had left him with cat ears and a long, fluffy tail, he had been doing his best to maintain his cleanliness. This was lasting longer than he had wistfully hoped. 

He was shedding everywhere. 

The elegant strands of his midnight fur that adorned his cat features had begun piling up, turning his couch and sheets a grayish hue. He practically ate cat hair with every meal now. If anyone had a pet that shed, they would understand. 

Zayne had decided in order to lessen the amount of shed fur, he would brush his ears and tail three times a day. It was just about time to start his midday grooming session. He figured there should be enough time before you came over for lunch. 

Oftentimes, if you spent the evening with him–whether it was in his office or in his apartment–he would let you brush him. It was soothing. He would just melt into your touch. 

He got to work, grabbing his brush and finding a comfy space on the wood floors. 

How long has it been since he’s vacuumed? He admitted to himself, he had begun to slack on the cleaning. It had gotten exhausting keeping up with the amounts of sweeping he had to do everyday and becoming a cat has made him more prone to naps these days. Therefore, his floors were gaining quite the collection of cat fur. 

Zayne sighed slightly as he settled onto the floor in a cross legged position. However, no matter how gentle he sat down, it  hadn’t stopped him from stirring up the stray strands of fur into the air. He started on his 

With the precise motions of a surgeon, he ran the brush over his ears first. An attempt to ensure that each motion was controlled as to not let too much cat fur fly. The feeling was pleasant, he almost purred. 

Strands of his soft black fur detached from the brush, regardless of his attempts, drifting lazily through the air. 

He watched them float.

A small sigh left his lips. No matter how careful he was, the fur would go wherever it felt. The sun’s rays illuminated the fur flying through the air, accentuating how they floated gently before landing on his clothes, his floor–his face.

He gave a frustrated exhale from his nose, blowing the cat furs away from his nostrils. Then, he moved on to brushing his tail. He wasn’t a big fan of brushing his tail. It was a human scaled version of a maine coone’s tail, those of which were already long and fluffy. He swiftly moved the brush through his tail. Unlike his ears, this took more effort and these strands were more prone to flying wherever they felt like. 

More and more fur lifted into the air, curling in invisible trails around him. It was like a mini cloud of cat fur always hung around him. 

That’s when he felt it. 

A faint, miniscule tickle on the tip of his nose. It was hardly worth acknowledging at first. Just a light sensation that teased the edges of his sinuses. His nostrils gave a tiny twitch, and then nothing.

Zayne continued brushing, doing his best not to acknowledge any sensations on his face. This of course, scattered more fur into the air around him. Not that it could be helped. Still, he refused to give into the growing irritation, or acknowledge the way his breath had begun to catch. He was still in control. He could do this. 

He finally made it to the ends of his tail. The fullest, most luxurious part. It was beautiful, yet he cursed it. Although, you personally loved when he let you run your hands through it. He gave a few generous strokes, running the bristles through the fur with precision. 

More and more fur detached, swirled through the air, landing everywhere. 

His breath hitched. The tickle was beginning to settle in the back of his nose as he continued. He gave a particularly harsh tug on his next stroke as a knot had nestled itself deep in his fur. Big mistake on his end. A small plume of fur flew up into the air, curling directly into his face. He could feel each ticklish strand land on, around, and in his nose. The teased and tickled as he shakily inhaled. 

“No, no, n-nhh…I d-don’t– don’t need to snihHh–sneeze–” 

His nostrils flared, protesting the cat fur that tickled his nose. His breath hitched and stuttered, chest heaving. Fighting a losing battle, he finally raised his hand up to his nose. He wasn’t allergic to cat hairs, but his nose was quite sensitive to the touch. 

At last, his breath caught.

“Hhh–hh’Tscht!” He pinched the first sneeze off behind his fingers. It was refined and quiet, yet it did not relieve him from the tickle that plagued his nose. Before he had time to think, his nose protested once again, and suddenly once became six times.

“Heh-’Tcht! –eH’Tcht! N–tchtt! ‘Tch! ‘Tch! ‘tchhh!” Zayne wasn’t going to stop anytime soon if he didn’t release his nose to expel the cat fur, but habits kept him from doing so. “ahH–...s-so tickly..s-stuhHh’tcht!! ehH’Tcht! S-stupid cat f-fur’TCHT! ehH–’Tcht!” 

Each sneeze–albeit quite–harshly jerked his body and shook more cat fur into the air.

“Sh-hiH-iHt’Tgxt’ch! ah–Tchtt! hihH–heh’Tchht!” 

His body repeatedly betrayed him as his nose gave in to the itch–even as he fought to suppress them. Somewhere in the midst, he heard his door unlock. ‘Oh no, they’re here already. How long hahH– has it b-been?’ With all the commotion from his nose he had forgotten you were coming over. 

Soon, he heard the sound of your feet headed in his direction.

“Zayne? Are you… wh-what happened to you?” You tried to cover up your amusement by coughing to hide your laughter. Zayne tried his best to glare at you through his bleary eyes.

“T-too muhh’Tchh! hehH’TChh! Toomuchcatfur ahH–’TChh!!!” He stuttered out through the sneezes. “Hehh…I-I can’t s-stohH–p…”.

“Do you maybe think, you should, perhaps, take your hand off your nose? Stop stifling mayhaps? Or would you rather forever trap those tickly–”

“hehH–eH’DTZsh’iiihh!!” Even the mere word tickly made his nose burst. At least he finally let himself release the sneezes freely, “ahEhH’DZSH–iihhh!! eHEH’DSZHIew! heh’DZSH–IIHH–…hhh..”.

You clicked your tongue in feigned disappointment, “Kitty Zayne choking on his own fur?”

His ears flattened as he sniffled the mess back, rosy cheeks gave away his embarrassment. You gave him a cheeky smile as you pulled some tissues out of your back pocket. You held them out, nudging them towards his face as he still glared (lovingly) at you.

“This is n-not amuHh…amusing…hh…hH’iHhh–’Tschhh!” He sneezed again and hastily grabbed for the tissues. He blew his nose harshly in an attempt to evict any stray cat fur left in his nose. 

“Well, I found it quite amusing,” You giggled as you plopped down on the floor right in front of him, “though you had me worried for a moment there when you wouldn’t open your door or respond to your phone.”

He looked back at you above the tissues as he examined the expression on your face. A look of both amusement and relief. 

“I did…not mean to worry you. Apologies, my dear,” He sighed, his lips twitched into a small smile. 

“It’s no worries! The scene I walked into made up for it. Imagine, me walking in, worried, just to find you sitting on the floor, sneezing your head off, surrounded by a cloud of your own fur–”

“OhH–no wh–y–heH’TSCHHH! eH’Tschh! eH’Tch! ‘tch–’tch–’tch…heh…haHh–e’Tschhhh! Why did you have to mention it again?” He once again blew his nose into the tissues. Though they were quite wet by now. You threw your head back, cackling.

“I’m sorry, Zayne!! I didn’t realize you were so suggestible!” Regardless of his embarrassment, your laughter was still music to his ears. 

“Mhm…what will I ever do with you, hm?” He let out an amused sigh. 

“Why don’t we settle onto the couch instead of going out today? Now seems like a perfect time for an afternoon nap, yeah?” You beamed as you reached to scratch his ears. Miraculously, your hand made it to his ears before he could stop you. He let out a small pur, which in turn caused his cheeks to turn a deeper shade of red.

“S-sounds good to me,” he finally replied after he let you scritch behind his ears. You knew he enjoyed that spot. You hummed happily and helped him up from the floor. Zayne followed without protest, unable to stop the small purrs that escaped his throat.

Moments later, the two of you were nestled together on his plush sofa. Zayne’s breaths were slow and steady, though a faint sniffle escaped him now and then. The sneezing had finally eased, leaving his little cat-self drowsy. His tail curled lazily over your legs and with each soft exhale, his ears would give a tiny flick. He was the first to doze off, with you not too far behind.

[scary-monsters]

▹broken boy | a diego brando character study | ch.1 | 2.7k ▹synopsis: Britain's beloved genius jockey. Swimming in money, trophies, lovers, recognition… and yet, he starves for more. With a shady past, dangerously unclear motives, and an explosive ego to boot, it's no wonder his inner circle consists of only himself and those that can benefit him. (Canon leaves out a lot. This fic begins with ten-year-old Diego and aims to fill in the gaps throughout the rest of his life while still remaining true to his core character.) [ read on ao3 instead ]

For young Diego Brando, the closest feeling to “home” is found at the stables. It’s in the creaking of old doors, the crunch of hay underneath his worn boots, the familiar snorts and whinnies that echo throughout the wooden fixtures as soon as he steps near. These days, he can tell them all apart. Diego knows the horses at this farm well enough that they might as well be his brothers and sisters. And, well… in a way, he supposes they’re the closest he’ll ever get to having any sort of family again.

It’s early on a Tuesday; Diego’s just barely beat the sunrise, already dressed in his work attire and headed for the very stables he finds such solace in. Maybe he’s a lucky boy, given that he’s had the opportunity to work with horses for the past five years in order to earn his keep around here. It’s a “dream job” of sorts, he supposes. At any rate, his interaction with the people on this farm tends to stay at a minimum. His job is quite simple: tend to the horses every single day. Feed them, groom them, clean their enclosures. This, of course, is bare bones, but Diego fancies himself an overachiever. He knows the horses by name, understands all their habits and quirks and what makes them tick, so taking each of them around the farm for regular exercise is easy (and enjoyable) work.

With a squeak, the stable doors open easily for him, the air fills his nose with the familiar and comfortable smell of hay. Diego can already hear at least one of his beloved companions stirring in an enclosure just to his left. Cursed with less than average height, he’s unable to clearly see, but he already knows it’s one of the dappled grays, an elderly mare named Tilly.

“Morning, girl,” Diego whispers, approaching the enclosure’s door and giving it a gentle pat. He makes a mental note to take her out for a ride later; it’s been a few days, but he tries to find balance between keeping Tilly active without overexerting her.

Diego’s first attempt at riding a horse was less than successful, of course. He’d just turned five, but his interest in horses had been clear since his infancy. Nervous as she was, Diego’s mother was never the type to discourage his desire to try something new, constantly instilling in him her pride in his drive and intelligence from such a young age. However, her instinct told her to deny him this one request. Her son was much too young, and she was fiercely protective.

Perhaps it was the rough conditions he’d been raised in, but Diego seemed to mature at a much faster pace than the other children on the farm. He’d had no choice, really. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, this came with impenetrable stubbornness. Diego respected his mother more than anyone else, but beyond that he wanted nothing more than to make her proud. And so, while she’d been distracted with her own work, he’d attempted to mount one of the more aggressive stallions.

As strong as his innate ability to connect with horses always has been, Diego’s first attempt had ended in him slipping off and tumbling to the ground, though thankfully with no critical injuries. His mother was fuming, scolding him and demanding he keep his distance from the animals for several days. Diego had been heartbroken, but beyond that he’d been embarrassed. The incident left him with a huge blow to his steadily blossoming confidence.

Nevertheless, this only made Diego’s drive much stronger. If there’s anything Diego unquestionably is, it’s persistent. Even more so these days, and it’s what his mother always encouraged him to be, anyway.

Diego gathers supplies from the corner of the stable; an old brush, a metal pick, a bucket, a few thick rope leads, and a rickety shovel. As he makes his way through the structure even more of his friends begin to stir, their heads popping up from behind stable doors and eyeing him expectantly. Diego leans on his shovel as his eyes dart from horse to horse, a grand total of seven in just this stable alone.

“Right then,” Diego states firmly, “we went from oldest to youngest yesterday, shall we switch it up today?”

Sensing no objections, Diego gives one strong nod and lugs his supplies over to the first enclosure on his right.

“Seems it’s your lucky day, Bolt.” The rusty metal latch of the stable door turns, another dappled gray waits inside, this one much younger than Tilly. In fact, he’s the youngest of several she’s birthed while living on this farm.

Diego approaches Bolt with as much gentleness as he does any of the other horses, yielding him the same trust he always receives. Beyond being in tune with horses and their quirks, he’s always had a knack for gaining their reliance almost immediately as well. Moments where he’s had to really prove himself to an animal have been few and far between, but it’s like his mother had said right before she’d passed: this is his innate talent.

With Bolt leashed securely to one of the wooden columns inside the structure, Diego sets to work cleaning up his living space. It’s not easy work, certainly not for a boy his age. Perhaps it’d be different if he were well fed and got regular, sufficient rest, but his living conditions on this farm have only gotten slightly better since his mother passed away four years ago.

Diego no longer sleeps on the barn floor, now he stays in the most run-down room of an inn just down the road from the farm. It’s dingy as it is, but his allowance will only grant him the lowest they have to offer. He continues to survive off daily portions of stew, but it’s not nearly enough to facilitate his growth at this rate. And, unfortunately, he’s always met with a tinge of humiliation when he has to stand in the very line where he’d seen his mother sacrifice her hands for him, only to make direct eye contact with the very same man who’d brought about the most traumatic moment of his life years ago.

The scrape of metal against the wooden floor breaks Diego out of his thoughts, almost like he’d instinctively pushed just a little harder. There’s no time for his mind to wander. The people of this farm will get what’s coming to them, eventually, someday. Diego has to believe it, it’s the one thing that keeps him waking up every single day.

Well, that and his horses. Diego lifts his eyes from the floor and glances over to Bolt, who’s watching him attentively and gently swishing his tail back and forth.

“Come now,” he tuts, chuckling softly to himself as he continues to shovel manure into a neat pile in the center of the enclosure. “Quite hard to do my job if you’re staring bullets through me.”

Bolt lightly shakes his head and snorts. He’s always had a bit more personality than some of the other horses, and Diego figures it may be thanks to his age. Bolt is only three, an age that causes the young boy to consider him something like a brother.

Diego leaves the stables for a moment to retrieve an old squeaky wheelbarrow from outside. He notices with contempt that some of the inhabitants of the small village are starting to go about their daily routines. Rage boils inside him for a moment, his hands clenching tightly against the handles.

Diego deeply inhales. Exhales. Reminds himself of his mother’s wise words.

Dignity. He cannot forget his dignity.

With that, he heads back inside, focusing on his daily tasks. The ache in his arms from shoveling manure and dirty hay is worthwhile in return for the pride he feels. And even though he must unfortunately traverse outside the safety of the stables to retrieve fresh water, he keeps his shoulders up, his head held high, ignoring the people around him.

Without question, Diego’s favorite part of his job is grooming the horses. Every single one of them remains calm under his touch, even as he scrapes at their hooves with a metal pick, albeit as gently as possible. By the time he’s reached the third stable, his hair sticks to his forehead with sweat. It’s not unusual for him to become fatigued partway through his day, but his focus remains on his companions. Before he knows it, he’s soared through caring for almost every horse inside the building.

Thankful that he’s saved his clear favorite for last, Diego eagerly unlatches Tilly’s enclosure and greets her with an encouraging click of his tongue. Hard of hearing at her old age, it takes her a moment to register his greeting, but as soon as she does she slowly rises to her feet.

“Hey, old girl,” Diego coos, extending his hand to carefully pet her muzzle, “fancy a ride this afternoon?”

Of course, as confident as he is in his ability to communicate with these animals, Diego can’t read their minds. But if he could, Tilly would easily be the most capable candidate. Maybe she doesn’t outwardly react, but Diego can sense she’s pleased with that suggestion. He won’t wear her out; he supposes a short walk around the village won’t be too strenuous.

Diego takes the most care with Tilly, offering her as much of his time as possible. Though he prefers not to dwell on it too much, he’s aware that she’s nearing the end of her life. Heart aching a bit at the thought, Diego chews at his lip as he brushes her beautifully spotted coat. A series of pats along her back act as an expression of his gratitude; if not for her, he’s unsure how he’d have gotten through his mother’s tragic passing.

Briefly overcome with emotion, he rests his cheek upon her side, closing his eyes for a moment. Diego isn’t sure how he’ll manage another round of loss, but at least in this instance it’ll be her time. Not like his mother. It wasn’t her time. She deserved to live a long, full life. It simply isn’t fair.

Diego’s eyes fly open and he proudly lifts his head once again.

Dignity. ---

Saddled up and fed, Tilly eagerly allows Diego to mount her. The young boy takes her reins in hand and steers her outside the stables. Balmy sunlight seems to almost restore her, causing her legs to move with a more lively energy. It has the same effect on Diego; his skin hungrily absorbs the bright rays, practically washing away the ache in his arms and legs. He feels at peace like this, astride his beloved horse, lifted above the people he passes by. It’s likely the closest he’ll ever feel to royalty.

Diego doesn’t stop for anyone. He ignores the eyes of the villagers; neighbors is a more accurate word, probably, but his resentment refuses to acknowledge them as such. None of them are worthy of nearing his beautiful steed, Tilly’s much too regal for their filthy hands. Stained with blood, the whole lot of them.

Spotting one of the farmhands just a few feet away, Diego makes a feeble attempt at steering Tilly in the opposite direction, but his fate’s been sealed. The man spots him, sneering in his direction and unfortunately approaching him.

“Brando,” he gruffly greets the boy, “you know that old thing should stay in the stables.”

Diego scoffs. The man may provide him with his work, but this doesn’t mean he deserves even a shred of his respect.

“Tilly has a name.” He lovingly brushes his hand along her neck. “Taking her for a stroll keeps her in shape. My job is to care for the horses, is it not?”

The farmhand narrows his eyes threateningly, but he doesn’t offer a rebuttal as far as Diego’s question. Of course he doesn’t; Diego’s one of the few who selflessly dedicates their time to caring for the animals.

“Her days are nearly up, boy. Wouldn’t it be more worthwhile to focus on the healthy horses?”

He’s undeserving of an answer, Diego decides. Lifting his head, he guides Tilly to turn around and head back for the stables. A short ride is all she can handle, sure, but he’s certain it’s been enough to lift her spirits. He won’t allow this sore excuse for a man to ruin that for her.

“How dare he speak to you like that,” Diego spits, gripping her reins even tighter, “I won’t stand for it. Mark my words, sweet girl.”

It’s a vague promise, but one that he intends to keep.

---

Diego awakens the following morning as he always does – sprawled out on a bedroll resting against the creaky wooden floor of a worn down inn. The sun has just started to peek over the horizon, and his eyes take a moment to adjust to the rays filtering through his small window. He sheds his too-small sleep clothes and clumsily changes into his dirty work attire, eager to start his day.

Ever since his encounter with that farmhand yesterday, he’s been filled with disdain. Diego decides he’ll spend extra time today doting on Tilly, he’ll make it clear to her that she’s worth just as much as any other horse on this farm. Maybe even more, given how much ridicule she’s been subject to.

As always, he’s up before many of the other residents. The silence makes the crunch of his shoes against gravel all the more audible, a welcome sound alongside the chirping of birds and whistling of a gentle breeze.

But something feels off. There’s a faint heaviness in the pit of his stomach, but he tries to quell the sensation. It’s simply the residual frustration from yesterday, he assures himself. As soon as he reaches the stables, he’s certain the comforting feeling of home will wash over him.

Diego approaches the small building, unlatches the old wooden door and steps inside. The sound of his companions reacting to his entrance causes a faint smile to grace his lips. He instinctively looks to his left, stepping towards Tilly’s enclosure and giving its entrance a gentle knock.

“Morning, old girl,” he greets her, just as he always does, but he’s met with silence.

The pit in his stomach grows heavier, larger. Diego curses his height and desperately presses his ear to the gate.

“Tilly?” He attempts to rouse her again.

The silence is deafening. With shaky hands he unlatches the gate and carefully swings it open.

Just as he feared, just as his instinct had told him, his beloved Tilly isn’t there. An empty stable, already tidied up and ready for another resident, is all that greets him.

For a moment, the quickly shrinking hopefulness within him insists that she must be out somewhere, that another farmhand has taken her for a stroll and graciously cleaned her living space. Given the sentiments he’d heard yesterday, he knows this realistically can’t be true. The memory of the farmhand's disgusting sneer and mocking tone echoes through Diego’s mind.

“Tilly,” Diego whispers, as if saying her name will bring her back to him.

It won’t. It can’t. Much in the same vein as his mother was taken from him, the people of this farm have once again spit on him, allowing someone dear to him to be wrongfully abandoned, tossed aside.

All he can do is fall to his knees, his hands grasping desperately at the hay underneath him. The warm sting of imminent tears begins in the corners of his eyes and as much as he’d like to fight it, he can’t. Stare fixed on the very spot that he’d seen Tilly just yesterday, his vision becomes blurry with moisture.

Diego wails, unrelenting. His body shakes with the force of his sobs, he pounds his fist against the wooden floor underneath him, aggressively rips at the too-clean hay surrounding him. It’s unfair, it wasn’t her time, and worst of all, he’d failed to protect her.

Inwardly, he apologizes to his mother, wherever her soul may have ended up. His grasp on dignity has faltered, his shame is immeasurable, and he childishly aches for her comforting embrace.

[burningcheese-merchant]

oh great burningcheese-merchant, I know you're on a craze with this couple, who are awesome btw, but I come here today with a humble request as a long time reader that maybe you could consider revisiting your "cookie run ship backstories" on AO3. There are some couples on that fic I was eagerly awaiting to read about 👀 ofc no pressure, if you don't wanna come back to it, that's totally cool, I'll read whatever you choose to write because you are that fantastic at it ☝

You read that? And you actually like it? And you actually like it enough to come ask me to continue it???

I didn't think anyone cared about that one (or any of the not BurningCheese ones tbh, those have stolen my entire show 😂)! I did it for funsies and was surprised it even got to 400 hits! I'm really touched you want more, I'm going to add another ship chapter as soon as possible (later today probably, since they're all done and old as hell) just for you! (I'm between AbyssEel or BlackCaviar. I like how I wrote those ones in particular. I hope those are some of the ones you wanted to hear about haha)

Now... Look at the camera and tell everyone that the PitayaFire chapter is your favorite :) Don't mind the gun pointed at you, please ignore the cool metal of the shotgun barrel digging between your shoulder blades, forget that it's fully loaded, just tell the world that that was the best one and you ship PitayaFire to death and think everyone one else should, too :))) (kidding, obviously. You enjoy whatever you ship you want. I'm just so alone on PitayaFire Island waaaaahhhhhhhh)

I really am grateful for all the people that enjoy my writing. It means the world to me that I'm actually good enough at something that people enjoy what I do with it. I hope I'm able to keep entertaining you all with my nonsense stories, BurningCheese-related and otherwise ❤️

[spontaneousful]

after seeing @class-of-classic-blog's post declaring march class-of-classics appreciation month (how are we abbreviating that?), i wanted to make a little idea post for things to do to celebrate the class-of-classics this month. Here's a list of a few different ways to show your class-of-classics spirit!

🫖 make the characters some wonderlandiful designs for hatterday* (and post them on a saturday?)

💞 post some propaganda of your favorite class-of-classics ship

🤔 have class-of-classics headcanons? post them

📖 write a story about a class-of-classics character on their own parents' day

🪈 make a character playlist and share it

📸 class-of-classics, then and now (draw, write, collage, whatever you want)

😡 write about the class-of-classics from headmaster grimm's perspective

✒️ make a post about a class-of-classics oc

❤️ make a class-of-classics x tumblr posts by looking through your liked posts and seeing if any of them remind you of a certain character

and, most importantly, reblog class-of-classics posts throughout this month!

*the hatterday i refer to (ss haberdasher my beloved)

[dirty-bosmer]

third week in a row no writing wip 🙃

[sisterdivinium]

Little update for anyone counting: VtM doctor superion AU is still in rewriting phase. I'm at page 32 of 106 and it is the equivalent to page 52 (of X) in the new version.

[luna-loveboop]

I made a side blog! @luna-love-reboops is the current url. It's for reblogging stuff. Mainly Loz and Lu content :)

[tragicclownwrites]

When you Dream, Dream of Me - Chapter 2

by tragicclownwrites

SpongeBob embraces his new role in the musical, bursting with enthusiasm. Meanwhile, Squidward desperately makes a plan, filled with dread for that reason alone.

⬅️Previous | Next➡️

[hazellvsq]

hazel levesque fic recs:

i put this together from ao3 and ff.net, the criteria is that the fic is good and does something interesting with hazel. most of them are under 10k or 5k words, and i tried to roughly group them by pairings or by subject so people can go for what they're interested in (romance, friendship, au, whatever)

pre-series: Horses by SpellStorm, Opposites by Band10hut, A Land Beyond the Gods by TagTheScullion, Unnatural, A Minimal Height of 54 by hecatea, blessed joan, duty bound to God, give me courage by staybeautifulnow, Hazebug by Leaf Skeletons

gen/au: Hazel’s Problem by MikeWritesThings, Ignis Aurum Probat by romanitas, not a second time by seaweedbraens, A Short Story on the Revival of Hazel Levesque by LastHope, the end of the line by Pets, all my flowers grew back as thorns by revelationinthelightofday, when i'm ready i will fly us out of here by blackcatintherue, Sixty Days, Make Death Wait, Maximum Security, So Be It, A Brief History of Dance by HecateA, Turn My Sorrow into Treasured Gold by Thatcrazyfan, Tired by Donzepan, Cross My Heart And Hope To Die, interregnum by bunnyinthemeadow, golden gods by adaimperium

hazel and nico: How the Death Squad Saved New Years by scrhaiser, We Have Each Other Now by ikeasharksss, Brother of the Bride by celestialshimmer, Centuries by FlyingBoar, in the bleak midwinter by yrbeecharmer, i don't wanna be alone like this (why don't you make it what you want it to be) by rainnows, Those Who Run by HecateA, spring's stepchildren by dovetail (icedmango)

frazel: Do I Wanna Know by PastyPirate, Cold Toes Heavy Shoulders, Burned Out, Behind the Scenes by notcoolenoughtobehere, In the Stables by TheGirlWhoRemembers, Un Peu d’Amour, un Brin de Miel by mautadite, ghost hunter, 20 by waddled, It's Nice To Have You With Me Tonight by queerlettuce, A Way to Hurt by FoxyAtlas, I'll Keep You Warm (When You're Frozen to the Bone), Half bloods, assemble!, HALLOWEEN EXTRAVAGANZA 2017 by sssssssim

hazel friendships: the sketchbook, The Red of the Rising Sun by femmepire, mea maxima culpa by ExceedinglyPeculiarChick, For the girls by MagnusFierro2020, Embers in My Fingers by auristelaswife, Old Eyes by theforgetfulalchemist, Hazel's Hair by Vikingfangirl23, dance of the corpses by rosegoldblood, just as we have by 723, Hold on to the memories (they will hold on to you) by anna_was_here, if we make it through december, everything's gonna be alright, i know by polypanpercyjackson (ineedibuprofen), Cards, Monster Fighting, and Other Girly Things, glitter in their eyes, smoke in their lungs by ash_ish, Outside Assistance by malrie

hazel rarepairs: Hazel’s Wash Day by afuckingcastleintheclouds, Birthday 20 by HecateA, Master of the Stick by ryoku, Domestication of the common vampire, Reunion by historicallyredacted, digital love by rosegoldblood, aurum et argentum, There's something in the way you roll your eyes by Thunder3Zigon7, our love was made for movie screens by levesquelsimp

ensemble fics/non-hazel fics with good hazel content: twist your brain around by artfulacrostic, Tattoo by ricecookerwritings, Stucco Hearts by ananbeth and writergirl8, The New Rule by books4belle, Siamo Nei Guai by kingburu, a necessary not-evil by Notebrooke, Mortals Meet Demigods by MaryaDmitrievnaLikesSundays, Apartment 305 by waddled, we could walk straight through hell (with a smile) by seaweedbraens, Hold Tight and Pretend it’s a Plan by Rynna_Aurelius, The Standard Job by CrystalZelda, Caged by historicallyredacted, Connected by Chaoticneutralpaladin, memento mori by rosegoldblood, Invictus Maneo by adaimperium, Only Honey in the Valley by Baye

[mimi-cee-genshin]

Kaveh angst fic idea where you were classmates with him in the Akademiya where you both became close friends and had a secret crush on each other. But your project partner confessed to him before either of you were able to. Kaveh felt guilty about rejecting her because she was already miserable about failing a class or something like that, so he went out with her. And then you couldn't bring yourself to talk to him anymore after seeing him with someone else and then circumstances caused you to lose contact with each other.

[non-un-topo]

Surpassed 44k and I feel like I'm gonna die

[zentriii]

HAIKYUU FANDOM I LOVE YOUU

[violetsareblue-selfships]

good morning!! <333

[orcelito]

Just finished rereading ITNL chapter 2 again

Yknow, it's long felt like a weaker chapter to me, especially compared to chapter 1. It's a Necessary chapter, but it's basically an entire chapter of introspection. Add in the fact that I wrote it in a single day and was half falling asleep by the end of editing it, but pressing onwards anyways bc I wanted So Badly to get it out that night...

The Legato part was the weakest for that. I remember staring at it and breaking my brain just trying to make it sound better before just giving up and posting. But when I worked on my full-fic re-edits about.. a year ago now? A year and a bit. I think it was October ish of 2023. But I focused on that part again, trying to get it up to my standards to be satisfied with it.

Coming back to it after some number of months, my brain relatively fresh, I think I actually did a pretty decent job. Despite being an introspective chapter, it really drives home how Wrecked vash is about it all. I like to say that chapter 1 is like a thesis to the fic, where you get vash's goals laid out pretty clearly (him picturing the things he wants to fix + him picturing his dream of having all the people he loves around a table with him, including Knives. It serves as motivation for him jumping back in time in the first place and it remains his driving force throughout the fic). In contrast, chapter 2 is... almost a secondary thesis. We see his doubt, his fears, his panic. We see the things that he's going to be struggling with throughout the whole fic. His wish to handle it all on his own, as well as how overwhelming it all is to him. Chapter 2 is the necessary second side to chapter 1's thesis, showing the weakness in his own strength and drive.

The cracks in his own unstoppable force.

Idk it's just interesting to me. Having been away from it long enough, I think I really do appreciate chapter 2 after all.

[drowninginthoughts27]

Seven Sentence Snippet

thank you sm for tagging me @buttfaceingtons

“Listen Reg, if you're not in grave danger I’m gonna hang up now. If you need someone to talk to I’m sure Sirius or Pandora or someone would be a better option. I heard you’re in France right now so I’m fairly certain Barty would be more than happy to help you out as well.” The way he says Barty’s name along with the acknowledgment that he’s in France sends a shiver down Regulus’ spine. An uncomfortable weight sinking deep into his stomach. He stays silent though and lets James continue, “But I’m really not in the position to be that person for you any more. I’m sorry, really.” 

this isn't edited so I'm sorry for any mistakes lol

np taggs to @regscupid @spacexcowgirl @rweoutofthewoods @theicarusconstellation and @kwiwrites (sorry if you've already been tagged)