#the fic i'll write one day

[inferno-ontherocks]

What it looks like: I've abandoned my fic

What's actually happening: It consumes my thoughts every single day. The urge to write gets stronger but my putty brain just. won't. let. it. happen.

[crispyliza]

Fanfiction in the late 2000s-early 2010s was wild bc you'd find a beautifully written story with the most compelling heart-wrenching plot you've ever seen and the author's note would be like:

Author with a username like ~SasukesWaifuxD~ : Ohayo gozaimasu! ↖(^▽^)↗, I'm sowwy it took me so long to update (๑•́_•̀๑)

tsundere twink from their fic : It was about damn time you idiot (눈‸눈)

~SasukesWaifuxD~ : Hey now! It's not my fault the plot bunnies kept wunning away fwom me (╥﹏╥)

tsundere twink: W-watever, it's not like I missed you or anything (💢,,>﹏<,,) b-baka!

[snail-day]

Satoru gets into little giggle fits from time to time, especially when you refuse to kiss him back. It’s late, well past bedtime. You’ve been dozing off at the dining room table, phone slipping from your fingers, head tilted just barely to the side. Across from you, Satoru sits hunched over his laptop, supposedly reviewing his students’ reports, but his eyes keep flicking up to you. Watching. Those baby blues crinkle at the corners when your head bobs for the third time.

He leans back in his chair, stretching his long limbs with an exaggerated yawn. “C’mon,” he hums, voice lilting and sweet. “Do I need to carry you?”

You don't answer. You're too tired or maybe you just want to see what he’ll do. And, of course, he does exactly what you expect.

He scoops you up effortlessly, arms sliding beneath your legs and back in one smooth motion. Your body molds against his without resistance, limp from sleep and too much comfort. He’s annoyingly warm. Radiating heat, soft clothed chest solid under your cheek as he carries you to the bedroom.

Satoru giggles. Not once, but in little bursts, like each sleepy twitch of yours and cranky grumbles as you try to make his life harder.

He sets you down on the bed, soft sheets enveloping you in their warmth, hands trailing from your thighs to your hips as he shifts you into place. Those slender fingers, a little calloused at the joints, but always gentle. They slip down at the waistband of your pants with ease, murmuring nonsense as he goes. Small complaints when you don't make his job easier. Kissing your skin between every motion, your temple, your nose, the corner of your mouth.

“You could try cooperating,” he grumbles affectionately, his voice vibrating against your ear. “I’m not undressing you because I want sex, you silly goose, I just want you to be comfy.”

And still, you don’t kiss him back. Brat. Causing him to freeze, his lashes to flutter. His white brows twitch, pinching up in soft annoyance.

“…Did you just not kiss me? Me?” Satoru leans back slightly, arms bracketing your head as he looms above you. “Wow. That’s crazy.”

You should’ve run when you had the chance. Without warning, he straddles your waist, knees caging you in, his ridiculous grin stretching wide across his perfect face. “Guess I’ll just have to punish you.”

Lunges forward, fingers finding your sides, your thighs, your ribs, and god, he’s relentless. Satoru is the worst person to be tickled by. Not just because he’s strong and fast (though both are true), but because he knows exactly where to touch. Reflexes honed from years of battle and used solely, exclusively, to torment you.

You shriek, trying to twist away, but it’s hopeless. He pins you with his whole body, lanky and giggly. His chest presses flush to yours, thighs snug around your hips, and his hands won’t stop moving.

“Where’s my kiss at?” he teases, laughing right in your ear. “Oh? Still nothing? Wow. I guess I gotta tickle you again! What a tragedy!”

You’re breathless by the time he relents, tears at the corners of your eyes from laughing too hard, your body aching from how tightly he held you. He finally settles, lowering himself until he’s practically draped across you, his head nestled under your chin. One arm loops under your back, the other curling protectively over your stomach. All that heat, all that size, and he just melts on top of you like a blanket.

Eventually, when he leans up to steal another kiss - warm breath fanning over your cheek - you give in. Just one. Barely a brush of lips.

He exhales like it’s the first breath he’s taken all night. Nuzzles into your neck with a pleased little whimper. “Mmm. There’s my girl.”

You roll your eyes, but your fingers still find his hair.

[franzkafkagf]

new gen targaryens if rhaegar had tried a little bit harder when dodging that warhammer

[zephyrchama]

You were sick. Your head was in a fog and your throat hurt something fierce. It was sweltering hot yet you shivered under the covers, hoping for the fever to pass soon. Your body, doing its best to get better, decided to empty the contents of your stomach over the side of the bed.

Beelzebub was the first to discover your condition. He came to wake you up in person when you hadn't shown up on time for breakfast. You were teetering like a newborn deer trying to clean up your mess. He was taken aback at the sight, at how clammy you were, and gently wiped the sweat from your face while checking how warm your forehead was. "You should lay down," he recommended, practically pushing you back into bed. You asked him to guide you to the bathroom instead.

He disappeared to fetch Lucifer. The eldest arrived immediately upon being informed of your condition. Your face muscles twitched as you tried to hold back a second round and apologized for the state you were in. Lucifer told you to stay quiet and just rest. "If you want to apologize, then get better soon."

"Don't tell anyone about this, ok?" you tried to ask. It came out as a garbled, barely perceptible whisper sending bolts of pain through your neck. You didn't want anyone to know how bad things really were.

"I do need to inform Diavolo, but rest assured I'll keep it brief." After ensuring you had water and would be fine alone for a few hours, Lucifer left early to inform RAD of your absence. He later texted you, "Don't hesitate to summon me if you need anything."

The house was quiet. It felt surreal to be the only one there. After some time had passed, you hobbled back to your bedroom and tried to sleep through the pain. Blissfully unaware of the chaos occurring elsewhere.

RAD is no small academy by any means, but rumors sure do spread fast. In first period, Beelzebub told Belphegor the sight he witnessed. They were overheard by Asmodeus, who lamented your absence to Solomon. Solomon asked Raphael to come with him to prepare some nutritious human food so you'd recover faster, and had to be forcibly stopped by Simeon. Luke found out by interrogating Solomon about why he was causing a scene in the kitchen.

Mephistopheles caught wind of the gossip and went directly to Diavolo for confirmation. Lucifer was none too happy at the situation, but the rumor mill was already spinning in full force. He did his best to uphold your image by telling anyone who broached the subject, "it's just the sniffles."

By lunchtime, Mammon was taking bets on how sick you were. "500 grimm says they're explodin' from both ends." "If that were the case, one of us would have stayed at the house with them," Satan rebutted, spying an easy win. "500 grimm says it's just coming out the bottom." They went back and forth, with others occasionally chipping in new symptoms such as hives or internal bleeding. Asmodeus, unable to listen any longer, left the cafeteria to post vague stories about his concern for you on social media.

Leviathan and Thirteen sent you get-well-soon text messages. One was full of worry and asked you to respond ASAP so they knew you weren't dying, as anxiety over your condition was causing them no end of fear. The other assured you to rest easy knowing that your candle was fine and you had plenty of time left before you kicked the bucket. It even recommended passing your bug onto someone else for fun.

You only saw the notifications in the evening, when a pounding headache woke you up and resounding footsteps in the hall signaled that people were home from school.

There was a knock at the door and Lucifer announced you had company. The crown prince and his butler imposed with a tray of fresh herbal tea. It would have smelled amazing if you possessed the ability to breathe through your nose. As the door shut behind them, you spotted at least ten figures out in the hallway.

Barbatos silently served you a hot cup, hopeful the rising stream would assist your sinuses. "Looks like you're recovering well!" Diavolo chimed. "That's great. I feared you were going to heave your guts out all day."

The frank sincerity caught you off guard and you choked on your tea. Barbatos was quick to grab the cup before it spilled.

"You knew?" you rasped. "Oh yes. Lucifer said it wasn't that bad, but tales of your illness have spread all over campus. We know human bodies aren't very strong."

You hunched down into the blankets to hide. The heat spreading across your face this time was not due to fever.

[thetoyboxs]

Older Brother Advice #35: As long as Legend doesn't die, you can fight him

[r-aindr0p]

made crumbs for myself but I'm throwing the blame on Vampirook's imagination Still mad at myself because I'm not satisfied enough yet with how I draw Rollo hhghqfhgrhsfds time to stare at the source material for hours to examine, maybe light a candle and pour a glass of wine idk

Also throwing in a Rook edit I did of that pingu edit because I had it laying around in the image gallery :))) a crumb for you there reading rn (it will follow you around affectionately)

[wordsofasarcast]

headcanon

So you know how it's canon that Will listens to true crime podcasts?

What if that's how he finds out that Nico is from the 1940s?!

Like he's listening to the latest episode about 'the death of Maria di Angelo and the disappearance and supposed kidnapping of her missing children, Niccolò and Bianca di Angelo'.

And it's not all that strange for demigods to pop up in conspiracy blogs or podcasts - Percy had a four part series about him, and Will listened to the whole thing during a nightshift at the infirmary.

So yeah, Will starts listening to the di Angelo episode thinking nothing of it, maybe he's just hoping to have a laugh about what the mortals thought happened to Nico or maybe he's more than a little curious about Nico's mysterious past.

And the hosts, in crackling stereo voices because they desperately need a better mic, are talking about lightning striking the hotel, how "the storm popped up out of nowhere" and the "strange seismic activity reported in the area at the time"...and then the date drops...

The hosts say something along the lines of, "The di Angelo siblings were reported missing by their family back in Italy after no word had been received of their safe passage to America. The police report states they were last seen by an anonymous witness entering the Lotus Hotel & Casino with an unknown third party in December of 1942."

And Will's just sat there, gaping at the infirmary bed he'd been stripping of its sheets. Because everything is adding up now, and Will's not quite sure how he missed it...

[necrotic-nephilim]

as much as I love the common "Tim worships/stalks Jason" trope in TimJay fanfiction because it's Good and making Tim a weird little freak is Fun, I think the underutilized dynamic is where Jason is the one weirdly obsessed with Tim and makes it Tim's problem.

Like, the moment Jason is confronted with the information that a third Robin exists, the first thing he does is cover his wall with pictures of Tim so he can just obsess and torture himself over it. That is the behavior of a man who is Unwell over Tim's existence and I love it.

red hood: lost days #4

And as much as a shitshow as The Titans Tower Incident™ is characterization-wise (though I think it has far more merit in depicting Jason's character than people give it credit for but I digress-) there's something very fun about the fact that even after kicking his ass, Jason respects Tim and is impressed by him.

teen titans (2003) #29

And on top of that, Jason can't seem to stop trying to ask Jason to Tim to work with him in some capacity.

robin (1993) #177

batman: battle for the cowl #2

While Battle for the Cowl is an exceptionally bad comic, especially for its characterization of Jason and the "be my Robin" bit is taken deeply out of context, I do think it's interesting how obsessed Jason is with believing that Tim is extremely competent, only held back by being "brainwashed by Bruce". (hence him leaving Tim for dead later on in the comic.) Jason seeing a darker side of Tim and wanting to bring that out of Tim, wanting to see what Tim could be if he let go of his loyalty to Bruce is so fun to me, tbh.

And in Robin #177, Jason seems genuinely upset Tim doesn't want to work with him. Jason sees such a raw potential in Tim and is obsessed with it, constantly wanting Tim to work for him and see Tim be the type of person Jason is. And despite Tim rejecting him, Jason doesn't shoot to kill Tim. I just cannot get over the fanfic potential of Jason obsessing over Tim, tracking him and seeing what he's capable of and what he could be capable of. Wanting to make Tim see things the way he does. To Tim it's corruption, to Jason it's freedom. Tim trying to 'save' Jason is fun and all, but Jason trying to corrupt Tim? That's even more fun to me. Watching that power struggle between them, Tim unable to get Jason off his heels as Jason gets more and more possessive and bold with each attempt.

And when Jason sees Tim successfully get Gotham back under control after a gang war, he's impressed. He praises Tim, even. And then Tim just. Breaks him out of prison.

robin (1993) #182

The way they're constantly trying to see something in the other that isn't there, hoping the other will come around? That is the most fucked up hate/love dynamic ever. Jason keeps coming back to Tim, keeps trying to find ways to get Tim onto his side. They're always chasing each other. And I think Jason would be the one to confess love first, the one to do anything to make Tim his. And when you consider after all of this, Tim has his Red Robin arc and is at his lowest, getting the closest he ever gets to considering murder? I think it'd be so fun to see Jason take advantage of that and worm his way back into Tim's life and finally push Tim over the edge.

[chiakery]

I'm thinking about the Matron of Ravens one day telling her champion, her first and most trusted ally since ascending to godhood, that she's going to leave him for some time.

I'm thinking about Purvan Suul, months or years later, following a raven until he arrived in front of a hovel. Inside it, there was a family. A mother. A father. A young girl with dark hair and green eyes, swaddled in blankets.

I'm thinking about Emhira's parents, not understanding why this stranger decided to take care of them but being infinitely grateful for this blessing - a skilled ranger bringing food and helping find shelter whenever their family had to move was more than anyone could hope for in times like these.

I'm thinking about Emhira, still young and mostly human, growing up looking up to this man who was so close with her he could have been her second father. Begging him to take her hunting, to teach her how to make and repair arrows. Playing with his wolf who was always so very gentle with her. Learning about Fate and Death and Gods.

I'm thinking about Purvan, patient as death, answering all of Emhira's questions but never pushing her in any direction, even when he saw her talking to ravens or idly drawing in sand symbols no one had ever showed her.

I'm thinking about Purvan and how, one day, this girl who was his god who was a little and vulnerable thing he had protected for the past decade and half, finally remembered. How she smiled at him in just the right way or placed a hand on his cheek with this look in her eyes and he knew. And he fell to his knees, heart bursting with prayer and joy and relief and said: "My Lady, welcome back."

[tankhunmybeloved]

The reviews for Heart Burger must be spectacular:

"Free show with every meal. Service is so-so."

"slowest service on the planet. I think they make everything from scratch. Doesn't matter, you're not here to eat. Every day during the lunch rush this twink in a crop top appears like a comet foretelling a great doom. I'd assume it was a kink thing but I think he and his boyfriend (works in the kitchen) genuinely hate each other. Riveting."

"The carbonara is okay. The burger are pretty good. Whatever the owner has going on with his boyfriend is great tho."

[cheralith]

cw: gn!reader, no pronouns used, but use of word "wife"

you make a marriage pact with childhood best friend karasu at age nine where you pinky promise to each other that you won't let each other die alone, that by the time you're thirty-three and if both of you are single, you'll marry each other.

you ignorantly think that it's enough time for you and him to find someone to settle down with, but adulthood topsy-turvies you in ways you don't expect and after an abundance of up-and-down failed relationships, you find yourself single just a two weeks shy of your thirty-third birthday when your boyfriend tells you that "this isn't working out."

karasu has been by your side through it all; he's had his fill of partners too, but after his latest relationship, he figured to take a break for himself from dating.

it's not until you and him get drunk one night at a bar where the alcohol suddenly fizzes up a long-lost memory that you and him completely forgot about until you slur it out to him.

"you still wanna marry me?"

karasu blinks. then cocks his head. "come again?"

"the big ol' three-three is coming up," you mutter blearily. "remember what we said?"

it's only then that karasu gets shot back in time, to when you and him were hiding in a playground slide one summer afternoon, giggling and whispering secrets to one another, where you and him made that pinky promise he always kept in the back of his head.

he won't tell you, but he's thought about more often than he should. that little ghost of what-if always whispering to him.

"oh, yeah," he swallows thickly, gulping some beer down to try and smooth his senses. it backfires—creates some sort of film in his throat that makes it pass through a little harder than usual. "... um. depends. you still up for it?"

"we're not getting any younger," you sigh with a loose smile. "i'm down for it if you are."

karasu can't help but mirror your grin. stupidly so, just like whatever events are about to play out.

what unravels next is made up of a drunken proposal with an onion ring on your finger with karasu in his inebriated stupor loudly announcing he's engaged to the bar that whoops and shouts in celebration.

and karasu suddenly finds himself standing at an altar only several months later, in front of a small batch of shared friends and families all the familiar with a pressed suit at the ready. otoya fidgets with his tie at his side as best man, with yukimiya as the officient on his other arm.

out of all the things he didn't expect to come out of this year, being married to his longterm friend was certainly not one of them—and yet here he is. watching you as you delicately float down a tiny aisle with a cheap wedding dress you carelessly picked out for the sake of time and budgeting.

somehow, you make it look regal. the polyester spins to silk when it drapes on your skin and karasu finds himself itching to leap from the alter, lift that veil, and kiss you senseless.

he pauses. odd.

he finds that tightening feeling in his chest as he stares at you walking down in the aisle rather odd. he shakes it off, thinking it's just those pre-wedding jitters he's felt for the past couple of months.

yukimiya lets you unfold your vows to each other and say "i do", and it's only then that you share a kiss to seal the deal. it's brief, but it's warm and soft—a tender thing. it leaves a effervescent feeling on his lips that he's never felt before.

clumsily, you both pull back and share the same stupid smile that you gave each other at the bar, as if to say, "we really did it, huh?"

the night lasts longer than usual, as if time slowed down to help you savor this moment that you thought would just run over like a work meeting. but you find yourself having fun, talking and laughing with loved ones with karasu holding your hand throughout the entire night.

each time you look at him, you find him looking at you softly with a twinkle in his eyes, something that makes your stomach flip about. it doesn't help that he's always smiling so delicately—dare you say, with adoration, even.

and it's not the platonic kind that you've grown accustomed to.

you shake it off when the thought arises.

you can't be fooling yourself like that—this marriage was more of a business deal than anything. you know what he likes, who he likes. and you're far from the usual mold he finds himself going back to.

but it's hard to keep that affirmation grounded when it's time for the couple's dance, where karasu still has that sweet look in his eyes as he stares at you, hands settled on your hips to sway you to a sweet tune that you and him have loved since you were snotty-nosed brats.

you thin your lips to keep yourself from smiling. "do i have something on my face...?"

he hums, blinking slowly, affectionately. "yeah. ya got a little smear of beautiful right here, i think."

his thumb wipes away nothing on the high of your cheekbone, a smirk blending in with his grin. you snort with a slight simper.

"didn't know my husband could be so cheesy," you press on the foreign word as you roll your eyes.

"i like the sound of that," he murmurs. "'husband.'"

you falter and pause in your tracks a little. karasu is quick to pick you back up, pulling you a little closer to him.

"yer my wife now," karasu takes the word out for a test drive, the word melting like sugar on his tongue. sweet, palatable. it's fitting. "that okay with you?"

"you're asking me that on our wedding day?" you raise a playful brow.

karasu barks out a laugh, the rugged one you've heard and can play by ear at this point. a melody you suppose you're not tired of.

he caresses his thumb over your cheek, hand cupping your face. you realize he hasn't removed it yet from your face.

"no harm in askin'," he shrugs. "just wanna know what my wife thinks, that's all."

"you like that word, don't you?"

karasu drums his fingers on your hips. "feels good to say."

the lights sparkle around you, a gentle warmth flittering on your skin and creates almost this dazzling halo-effect around him. he brings your face closer to him and your breath hitches. he stops just a few inches shy of your face, his hand blocking everyone else from view to properly let you and him have some alone time for a few spare seconds.

you can feel the warmth of his breath on your lips, sharing the air.

"... can i kiss my wife again?" he whispers.

it's the way he says it that makes you wonder about your initial thoughts with all of this—this supposedly "platonic" bond between you and him that you've agreed to seal off.

you've always loved karasu; he's always held a part of your heart since your first bicker on the playground at age seven when you and him fought over your turn on the swings.

but you think something new has bloomed for him now, amidst your wedding day out of all things. an odd predicament to blossom such a newfound love, but regardless of how you got lost and tangled along your way, all the roads still led back to him.

you nod shyly.

karasu quirks his lips up in a spark of excitement, one that makes you bite your lip to keep from laughing. he sighs breathlessly, just before he kisses you again—this time, just for you.

[crowttore]

Anyway, you're dating Alhaitham while Kaveh is still living there. Kaveh is on a trip into the desert, should be coming home in two days, you and Alhaitham have just bathed and are having slow sex in his room. You hear the front door open and mutter out a confused "Kaveh?" - but poor Alhaitham... He thinks you just moaned his roommate's name. Suffice to say, his hands grip your hips a little harder and his thrusts grow deeper while his chest burns with a need to make you forget everything but him. Alhaitham is not a jealous man, he trusts you wholly, but he does appreciate being concise with words, so how could he possibly let you misspeak in such a way?

Poor Kaveh hears the bedframe creak and promptly backs out the door.

[blueblurseptember]

FELLAS, I AM ACTUALLY LOSING IT. LYCAHUGO OFFICIAL. CANON AS FUCK. DIVORCED PARENTS GETTING BACK TOGETHER ARC. THIS IS NOT A DRILL.

[northernsunsets]

I keep thinking about the liujiu secret omega Shen Jiu au I posted 4 months ago. Here's some doodle, I made it a shen bros au too to get Binghe outta the way

[feathercreates]

"Old friend... I miss you so much. I'm so sorry."