#the writing is like just tidbits I thought of while working to make sure I don't forget them not my main focus

[bibiana112]

Me to myself as I write characters actively malfunctioning for not taking care of themselves: yo did you eat that lunch you said you were gonna make or

[wonderjanga]

Marvel and the YJ

So, Marvel in the YJ. He’s one of their den mothers and all that. So like, in this AU, and in fact in all of my posts so far, Billy’s kept it under wraps that he’s a kid. So, as a result, the YJ think he’s just this really cool big brother (dad (they just don’t know it)) type of dude. Like he’s so nice. And he’s so nice to them especially. Like, he treats all of them the same way he treats adults. He doesn’t doubt their abilities, and when they fail, he’s still there to encourage them to get back up and he doesn’t even make them feel bad about it.

Like, the one time he was asked to spar with the YJ cause they wanted to for funsies I guess, he positively whooped their asses and somehow, someway found a way to still compliment their abilities, even if they didn’t last that long because the battle was a little one-sided. To be fair though, they had asked him not to go easy, which he didn’t. In the end, he got promptly scolded by Canary heavily when she found out he quite literally used Kid Flash as a rag doll and threw him at Aqualad. She said that the entire tape of him having a “friendly spar” with those kids, was essentially just him bullying them. To which Billy tried to defend himself by saying those kids were plenty capable. The defense didn’t work.

Then, there was this time Kon mentioned he couldn’t fly and Marvel offered him a lift. This somehow ended up with Marvel sort of T posing mid air as Kon and Robin hung on one arm, Artemis and Aqualad hung on the other arm, then Kid Flash held onto one leg while M’gann held onto the other.

Flash: “Wow.” *looking up at the YJ and Marvel* “That’s… actually kinda majestic, not gonna lie.”

Superman: *also looking up at Marvel and the YJ* “Is it though? What if one of them falls?”

Flash: “Eh. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

Kid Flash proceeds to almost slip off and fall, which almost gives both the speedster and Kryptonian a heart attack. Thankfully, he catches himself by moving his feet really fast to boost himself back up. Worst part in their opinion is that Marvel didn’t even seem to notice.

Then, there was the time M’gann with Robin about something. Batman was also working nearby on a computer.

M’gann: “Hmm… We need advice.”

Robin!Tim: “We need an adult.”

Batman: *keeping an ear out cause he’s always happy to help one of his kids*

M’gann and Robin!Tim: *thinking before they speak up at the same time* “Marvel.” *they then both walk out of the room to find the Captain*

Batman: *a little upset that Tim did didn’t come to him for help but also a lot more concerned as to why they thought Marvel was a suitable choice to ask for advice, especially considering the fact that just earlier that day, he had caught the man scribbling on one of the meeting tables like a 5th grader scribbling on their desk*

Contrary to what Bruce thought might happen (I.e. something going wrong) apparently Marvel’s advice wasn’t too bad, seeing nothing had gone wrong yet. (He later found out that the two had asked for the best advice on how to incapacitate your enemy quickly. He found this out when he saw Tim throat punch a man. Said man went down almost immediately. When prodded for information for as to why he did that, he proudly proclaimed “Cap taught me”)

Also a little tidbit from the Marvel Cursing post about the YJ thinking that Marvel called one of them a dumb cunt. Courtesy to @helps-the-writing-brain-go

Billy’s recently noticed that the kids are acting funny. Though, he supposes it’s not a bad funny. If anything, whatever’s got them acting weird has got them doing better on missions, but still. It’s weird. What’s weirder is that whenever he compliments them, they shine twice as brighter than they normally do. What’s even weirder than that is that whenever they’ve messed up recently they look twice as nervous. Speaking of which, this was one of the moments they’ve messed up.

Marvel: “So… Uh- that didn’t go so well.”

YJ: *obvious signs of anxiousness on some and subtle on others*

Marvel: “But that’s okay! But that’s okay.” *trying his best to make the anxiety in them disappear* “We just have to try to be better next time. Like, and I hate to say this, maybe try calling in an adult next time? Like me? I could’ve zoomed over and helped you guys.”

YJ: *look at each other*

Artemis: “Wally’s the one who said that we shouldn’t call you in a try to do this on our own.”

Kid Flash: *dramatic gasp* “You know why I said that! It would’ve helped us all if Kaldur had tried to put the fires near the gas tanks out with his water powers!”

Aqualad: “I was busy being attacked by nearly five different people.”

YJ: *dissolve into arguing*

Marvel: “Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wally what did you mean by it would’ve helped you all? Me not being there would’ve been good?” *confused*

YJ: *immediate silence*

Kon: “Wally found out that you think one of us is dumb cunt.”

Kid Flash: “Dude! You guys need to stop ratting me out!”

Marvel: “What.” *stares in befuddlement*

M’gann: “And then he told us. So we’ve been trying to think of ways to not be uh… dumb cunts.”

Marvel: *blinks rapidly* “Again, what? Wally, where did you get this information from?”

Kid Flash: “When you were making cookies! I heard you say blah blah blah, what a dumb cunt.”

Marvel: *still staring in confusion*

Kid Flash: “Then, when I asked what you were talking about, Mary said you were talking about our performance on missions.”

Marvel: “…Okay. I’m going to be completely honest with you. I don’t remember a thing of what you’re talking about.”

Marvel then goes on to make a speech about how they’re wonderful heroes who shouldn’t let one person’s words guide them, especially in risky situations like a mission. He then told them that he was now going to stress bake and make some Minnesota cool whip, jello, fruit, not really salad, salad. (Courtesy to @jedipirateking) On the bright side though, the speech did leave the teens feeling better.

[ghost-bxrd]

Been mulling over Titans Tower and it's really interesting to me how it's treated in Fanon as compared to how the events transpired in canon. it's a really fun topic! Honestly, the original writing in canon is DOGSHITE but not for the usual reasons people cite.

Here's what does make sense in canon but is largely ignored (this is using canon characterisations at the time): First, it's all about the whole Titans team, not just Tim. They really downplay his death a lot, did not put up his statue or honour him whatsoever. Plus the hero community tends to victim-blame him a fuckton. Jason is showing that his death could've happened to anyone. Second, Tim and Jason are just two yearish apart—Jay died at 15, Tim becomes Robin at 13—so those Titans are more like his colleagues than anything else; he's not some older guy beating the shit outta them. Third, Tim’s indifference to Jason's comments and his cockiness about being a better Robin are pretty on-brand for his early portrayal as Robin. (I think fanon Tim derives a lot of his characteristics from his Red Robin run, which is valid as well! But here in particular we have Robin Tim... who... was... uh... a bit of an asshole when he was written back then and the HUBRIS on that man? Immaculate.)

What still makes this absolutely dog shit is the dialogue and how Jason is pouring his heart out to someone who he doesn't really care about. Jason... just doesn't operate this way... Why's he trauma dumping on... tim... ???? It makes no sense whatsoever because Jason really is someone who'd keep those vulnerabilities to himself. Why would he open up to... CANON TIM??? He makes scathing remarks when faced with Bruce and Dick because he knows the knife twists then and at he cares about their reaction. But not tim ????? Canon UTRH doesn't even mention Tim ????? ???? So in the end it's still shit imo.

I also find the use of Pit Madness in fanon super interesting, despite it not being canon. It's used to propel the Titan's Tower incident, which fascinates me because it shows how people are willing to work around its flaws to maintain consistent characterization in their works (which is !!! cool !!)

It's so interesting how many other incidents that do occur in canon aren't as well known as this one aren't given much thought. But this one is and it's interesting how people try to work with it regardless of it's flaws originally!

I'd really love to hear your opinions about it and how flexible you are with the Titans tower incident! :) How do you work with your Jason and your Tim? because it's cool to hear your analysis etc etc

Hooo boi okay i was planning on replying to this earlier but this deserves a proper, thought out response (which I’m shite at but I’m trying here. Words are hard.)

For one, I wholeheartedly agree with the whole trauma dumping thing.

Obviously we all have different tastes in media and I know there are quite a few people who enjoyed the confrontation with Tim, which is totally fine, but personally… yeah, not my thing.

I got into the Batman/batfam fandom via fanfic, so my first introduction was some version of Titans Tower I believe. I was super intrigued by the characters and the tidbits of lore sprinkled throughout that I immediately began reading up on them and digging through the internet for more info and background story on them. Which then quickly evolved into the part where my adoration for Jason’s character began and a short phase where I absolutely despised early canon Tim.

Like— all the victim blaming. He seriously couldn’t mention Jason without adding something derogatory about getting himself killed, which sat so, so wrong with me. Not to mention the Titans just accepting a new Robin right off the bat and joining in blaming Jason for his own death. I’m pretty sure that was the point where I swore off comics for a long while and decided to live off fanon 🤣

And then Jason’s part in the Titans Tower incident. I think part of how weird the canon event was is due in part to how the writers fumbled to depict trauma? Or maybe they just outright hated him because I know a lot of people back then despised Jason and his run as Robin.

Whatever the reason, I think I genuinely cringed when he revealed the Walmart Robin costume he was wearing. And then the trauma dumping.

Jason is smart enough to know Tim wouldn’t care about his grievances. I mean- dude just broke into his hideout to attack him, I think Tim’s about as done with Jason as with any other criminals, regardless of his past. And all that is proven by Tim fighting back tooth and nail without pause. He doesn’t even react to the accusation of the missing statue in Jason’s honor. Like, he genuinely doesn’t seem to care. And why would he? They don’t know each other.

And yeah maybe he was trying to beat some sense into Tim (which is still wrong but— vigilantes I guess? Idk) and make him quit Robin, but Jason’s also smart enough to know that Robins don’t quit easily. And then, as soon as Tim is down for the count and can’t keep fighting, Jason leaves. Just like that. No actual murder attempt, no kicking-while-he’s-down (at least as far as I remember).

It makes no sense. What would Jason be gaining from that encounter? Why would he blame the kid that replaced him and not the guy that did the replacing? Hell, it would make more sense for him to go after the Titans than Tim. Not the mention him casually doubting Tim’s talents when he must have done some background checks on him.

It’s why I like the idea of Pit Madness I guess, and that Jason actually went to the tower with the intent to kill. Because that way the entire thing wouldn’t seem so… pointless.

As for how flexible I am with the Titans Tower storyline, it really depends on the route people choose to explore. But I’m a huge sucker for the “Jason was Tim’s Robin” trope where there’s at least a mild amount of hero worship going on. 👁️ Oh, and happy endings. I can’t deal with tragedies.

But yeah these are my thoughts on it. Obviously no hate to whoever enjoyed the comic mentioned above 💚 we’ve all got different things we resonate with after all~

[alwritey-aphrodite]

Hiiiii!!! I’ve got a whole book load of ideas for this pathetic man named Carmy Berzatto but this one’s been in my head for a while. Basically they aren’t together (yet wink wink ;)) but reader keeps a sketchbook around and has a few drawings of Carmy because how can you not wanna draw his sad doe eyes. One day they leave it behind and Carmy finds the drawings and is flustered that someone would wanna draw him.

He can also confront reader for some tension but this boi just needs to be drawn like a French girl and given some love.

Happy writing btw!

Thank you for this request!!! I would love to hear more of your ideas if you’d like to share them hehehe

You are going to murder your best friend.

He’s incredibly irritating, in ways he doesn’t even realize. He’s disgustingly caring, keeping his fridge stocked with snacks and drinks that only you like, remembering books you’d wanted to get and dropping them at your front door, taking you around Chicago to find the best art supply stores. He even comes with you whenever you want to take a trip to the art museum, not because he enjoys the art but because the thought of you being there alone makes him anxious.

Not only is he upsettingly kind, he’s also nauseatingly gorgeous. Sometimes it’s a little hard to look at him, you’re so worried your heart is going to stop. You love every little thing about him, every tidbit and quirk you learn loving stored away in your mind to turn over when you can’t sleep. You can’t stay away from him, but you’re not sure how much more of him you can take.

“Wanna go down to the park with me?” You lean yourself across his counter as he cuts the fruit you’d just bought at the farmer’s market. You’re perfectly capable of doing it yourself, but he didn’t even ask, and you’re sure he knows more than you do when it comes to making produce last longer. Plus, this just means you get to stare at his hands and his arms and that face he makes when he’s focusing.

“Why?” He asks, not even bothering to look up at you, not because he doesn’t care but because he’s desperately trying to impress you with his knife skills, as if he doesn’t run one of the best restaurants in the city.

“I have to practice my figure drawing,” you tap the front cover of your sketchbook for emphasis, hoping he hears the gentle thudding even if he doesn’t see it.

“I’m almost done,” he says, instead of reminding you of how hot it is and how little free time he has, because he’d do anything for you, even if you didn’t ask, even if he only suspected you wanted something, he’d make it happen.

It's not long after that the two of you are sitting on a scorching park bench, roasting underneath the sun. You’re sure Carmy’s bored and sweating, and you know he has a million other things he could be doing right now, but he’s sitting next to you in the blazing heat while you try and find a clean page in your sketchbook.

You flip to a clear page, searching the park for someone interesting to draw when you see a laughing baby a few feet away, the high-pitched noise bringing a smile to your face. You try your best to capture that particular joy that you’re almost certain only babies are capable of feeling, and it’s not your best work, but your only glad was to get more comfortable with live references and exploring emotions. Plus, Carmy is much too distracting. He’s got his head tilted towards the sun, eyes shut against the light that illuminates the slope of his nose and the curve of his jaw, making him look nothing short of godly. You’re not sure how you get away with all this staring, but you don’t want your luck to run out, so you turn back to your paper and search the park for someone else to draw.

After a runner, an elderly couple, and a young woman crying, you close the cover of your sketchbook as your fingers start to cramp. You rest your hands on top of the cover, trying your hardest to deter the breeze from disturbing your pages the way it ruffles Carmy’s curls. As close as you are, you never want Carny to see your sketchbook, beyond the few pages you’ve already shown him.

Most of the pages are full of him, different angles and emotions and parts of his body. There’s a page dedicated to his hands, to his curls, to those beautifully expressive eyes. You’re certain that you could draw him from memory and have every slope and curve and angle be absolutely perfect. Those drawings are your reminder that you’re talented, that you have skills that you’ve practiced for years and years and that your art is good, whether you always think that or not, but you’d die if Carmy ever saw them.

Friends don’t secretly fill pages and pages with drawings of their friend, because it’s strange and a little creepy and reveals feelings you’d rather keep hidden. Really, you’re not sure how you get away with staring at Carny so often, ogling without so much as a glance from him, but you can’t help yourself. You’re friends with the most beautiful man in existence, of course you’re going to stare when he’s focused or distracted and won’t notice the stars in your eyes.

It’s not until hours later, after you’ve returned to your own apartment and you finally get around to unloading the bag you’d been carrying all day, that you realize your sketchbook is missing. You know for a fact that you carried it back from the park, mindful of the reassuring weight of it in your hands, and you immediately know you must have forgotten to put it back in your bag after you’d stopped at Carmy’s to cool down before making your way back to your apartment. You can practically see it on his countertop, all of your most closely guarded secrets left unprotected. You’re halfway through your spiral about needing to pack up and move away forever to save yourself from the mortification of Carmy knowing how you feel when there’s a knock on your door.

You open it without thinking, immediately regretting your decision when you see Carmy on the other side, looking rather disheveled. Your mind comes up completely blank as you struggle to form a sentence, trying to decide between playing it cool and pleading for forgiveness.

“You’re really talented,” he tells you, offering the sketchbook out to you. You can tell by his tone, by the fact that he sounds like he’s choking, that he’s seen the drawings. You take the book, the weight heavy in your hands without any of its security. You feel raw and exposed, ripped apart and stomped on, but you step back and open the door farther anyway, walking towards your kitchen and hoping Carmy follows.

“I’m sorry,” you settle on a simple apology, not certain you’d be able to articulate anything more, because how are you supposed to explain to your best friend that you’re so in love with him you can’t help but commit him to memory, can’t help but fill pages and pages with just his figure because you love him so much it’s like your body and soul are being taken over by some force you’re completely unable to control as your pencil glides across the page?

“Don’t be,” he clears his throat, fingers fidgeting against the back of a chair, “they’re really good,” he pauses, lips working silently like he can’t quite push out the words, “I don’t understand.”

“You’re my muse, I guess,” you force out an awkward chuckle, trying your hardest to be funny so you don’t have a breakdown, “I dunno, it’s just easy for me.”

Drawing him, loving him, comes naturally to you, like it’s something you’ve been doing your whole life. You know him, every slope and curve and angle, every shadow, you know him so well he seems like a part of you. He’s trying to process, you can tell by the way he works his jaw back and forth, and you’d be committing this moment to memory to add to your pages and pages of drawings if you weren’t so nervous. You’re going to have to let him go when all you want to do is keep him with you forever.

“No one’s ever done anything like that.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize lamely, because you’re not sure what else to say.

“It’s not a bad thing,” he clarifies, seeming like he’s finally getting his thoughts in order, “I don’t mind, I just wish I’d known.”

“Well, now you do,” you feel a little stung, wishing for something more than indifference, rage or elation or any strong feeling at all.

“I’ve gotta go, early morning tomorrow,” he says and you just nod, because you’re not sure what else to say. You’re still standing in the kitchen when you hear your door open and gently shut again, leaving you alone once more. You feel weightless and weighed down at the same time, and you speed through the rest of your nighttime routine, desperate to crawl into bed.

It's not until you’re passing by your front door to make sure it’s locked that you see the containers of cut-up fruit Carmy had left for you.

Tagging people who seemed interested :) @onceuponaoneshotfanfic @yxtkiwiyxt @veryprairieberry

[wikiangela]

tease tidbit tuesday/wip wednesday

tagged by @thewolvesof1998 @theotherbuckley @tizniz @diazsdimples @dangerpronebuddie @spotsandsocks @exhuastedpigeon @underwaterninja13 - tagging y'all back for wip wednesday 💖💖

doing two in one bc it's technically wednesday already idc lol - started a new wip I mentioned before (inspired by this video lol) and rn I'm rewriting what I wrote yesterday bc the past two days words were not wording and I hated everything I wrote, but I think I'm happy with it now haha I hope I'll manage to write it like I want to bc it's sooo good in my head istg haha

(wasn't gonna post until i have more but i need validation before i drive myself crazy over this lol)

___

It started as a random idea, more like a throwaway thought, really. Tommy was just checking the weather for the next few days – his hot pilot boyfriend always likes to be prepared – while they were hanging out, and he casually mentioned that “it’s gonna be nice on Saturday, perfect barbecue weather,” which got Buck to mention how they often have family barbecues at Bobby and Athena���s. Somehow, the conversation spiraled, and Buck’s not sure who threw out a more concrete idea, but here they are now, standing side by side in Tommy’s kitchen, preparing food – Buck’s currently slicing veggies for a salad, while Tommy takes care of the meat – for the barbecue where they invited way too many people than Tommy’s backyard can probably fit. It really is nice weather, the sliding door leading from the kitchen to the backyard open and letting in warm sunshine and a soft breeze that makes the air feel cooler. They work in pleasant silence, the only sound is quiet music playing from the speaker, and Buck can’t help a fond smile when he hears his boyfriend hum along, so off-key Buck’s not sure he even knows the song, but it’s still adorable.

The silence is disrupted by the doorbell ringing, and before Tommy can even move, Buck is dropping the knife on the cutting board, wiping his hands, and sprinting towards the door, shouting an “I got it!” over his shoulder. He’s followed by an echo of Tommy’s fondly amused chuckles. So he’s a little excited, sue him – they haven’t had a family day like this in a while, and there was only one he brought Tommy to, all of their schedules not so easy to align. And today his whole family will be here, including their spouses and children, and Tommy invited a couple of his friends and their families, too, and it’ll be just a big, loud, chaotic get-together that he’s hosting with his boyfriend. Buck never hosted one of these before, and he’s really enjoying it so far, and he just wants everyone to have fun.

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @thebravebitch @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck

@eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @wildlife4life

@diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @weewootruck @loveyouanyway

@spagheddiediaz @rainbow-nerdss @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove

@nmcggg @rogerzsteven @hippolotamus @bidisasterevankinard @giddyupbuck

@sunshinediaz @honestlydarkprincess @911-on-abc @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings

@buddieswhvre @fortheloveofbuddie @your-catfish-friend

@daffi-990 @hoodie-buck @aroeddiediaz

[lilacmingi]

STUPID CUPID

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works

Pairing: Cupid!Jisung x human!fem reader

Word count: 4,000

Note: Happy Valentines Day you guys! This is an idea that’s been floating around in my mind for a month or two and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to write it. It’s Jisung’s first day on the job and he accidentally shoots himself with his own arrow (silly boy!) 🏹

Valentines Day. A capitalist holiday that took advantage of people's romantic feelings for one another and profited from it. Teddy bears, heart-shaped balloons, jewelry, cards, roses, even heart-shaped pizzas. You shook your head at the thought of people going above and beyond for their significant others. While it was sweet, you often wondered why people didn't do that on any other day of the year. You shouldn't need a special holiday to do something nice for the one you love.

Valentines Day. An unnecessary day for couples to rub their relationships in everyone's faces and a complete waste of time and money. The only thing you liked about it was the chocolate. That's what led you outside on this godforsaken holiday. You may dislike Valentines Day, but there was nothing wrong with treating yourself to a little candy.

Your eyes roamed the large section of sweets, catching a glimpse of a middle-aged man with an armful of Valentines goodies hastily snag a heart-shaped box of truffles before brushing past you towards the register. You shook your head. Looks like someone forgot to get something for their sweetheart.

Your index finger hovered over a section displaying your favorite chocolate, your mouth watering at the sight. When it came to treating yourself to snacks, you hardly had boundaries, always grabbing whatever it was you wanted without giving it a second thought. Besides, you worked hard for the money you earned and you intended to spend it.

Perusing the aisle for a few more seconds, you grabbed some other favorite sweets of yours before heading to the chip aisle for a salty snack for later after you get into all the chocolate. Any time you overindulged on sweets you found yourself scouring the pantry for something salty to balance it out and vice versa. It was a never-ending cycle sometimes.

With an armful of snacks and sweets to last you two weeks, you headed to the register where a teenage boy stood, typing away on his phone. You didn't mean to be nosey, but your eyes instinctively glanced down at his phone screen only to see a plethora of hearts spammed on iMessage.

The boy was quick to lift his head, locking his phone and shoving it into his pocket while sputtering apologizes.

"Sorry about that. I, uh, have a date tonight with my girlfriend."

"That's nice." You smiled, trying to be polite.

You weren't sure why he decided to say that, as you were a total stranger, but it was nothing to get upset over. He could've been caught off guard by your presence and blurted that just because he was nervous, or perhaps this relationship was fairly new and he was just excited about going on a date. Either way, you put on a friendly smile and acted as if that little tidbit of information didn't bother you.

The automatic doors to the store slid open as you walked out with a plastic bag in your hand loaded with delicious candy and junk food that you couldn't wait to get into once you arrived home.

Jisung was brimming with excitement. His first Valentines Day on the job. He had spent an entire year training for this and he couldn't contain his enthusiasm. He counted his arrows three times to make sure he had enough, and if he happened to run out, he could always conjure up more. He checked the heart-shaped watch strapped to his wrist, tapping the touch screen to make sure everything was working and in tiptop shape.

"Han Jisung."

The cupid perked up upon hearing his name, standing at attention.

"You don't have to do that." Minho informed him, his expression showing little to no emotion.

"Sorry."

Minho was one of Jisung's friends and had been working as a cupid for years. He was professional, experienced, and knew everything there was to know about being a cupid. Jisung looked up to him and always asked questions when he had them.

"You're on the clock in approximately two minutes. Are you ready?"

"I'm more than ready." Jisung responded confidently. "I'm prepared. I'm equipped. I'm all set. I'm hot to trot!"

Minho gave his friend a once-over before responding with, "O...kay."

Jisung's shoulders relaxed as he let out a deep exhale. "I'm a little nervous."

"Everyone always is on their first day. It's normal."

"What if I do something wrong?"

"You won't."

Jisung nodded, hoping Minho was right.

Minutes later, Jisung found himself perched in a tree, his legs swinging back and forth while he waited for his watch to go off.

The cupid chose to bide his time by wondering who his first client would be—that's what they refer to their targets as. After all, "clients" is a much less morbid term.

Would they be a boy? A girl? Younger? Older? Maybe someone who hasn't found love yet and is still waiting for the right person? Oh, Jisung would love to help someone, both young and old, start a new and exciting chapter in their life.

His train of thought was derailed immediately as soon as you came sauntering down the sidewalk. His eyes followed you for much longer than he intended, unable to look away. He had seen humans before but none of them were as entrancing as you.

His watch beeped, bringing his attention back to the task at hand. He tapped the small screen and an image of a young woman was displayed on it. The heart-shaped watch was technologically advanced and would pick up the presence of an approaching individual that was set to be struck with a love arrow. Each watch was programmed specifically for the cupid that wore it.

Jisung reached for his quiver strapped to his back and pulled an arrow from it, sliding it into place on his bow. Rearing back, he aimed the bow clutched in his hands, releasing a breath before subsequently releasing the arrow, watching as it hit his intended target in the back. She stopped in her tracks, jostling slightly due to an invisible force which she couldn't see.

A man was headed down the street towards the woman just a few seconds later, an image of him promptly flashing on Jisung's watch. The cupid was quick to jump into action, pulling out another arrow and sliding it into place. He aimed and waited for the man to get closer to the woman before shooting the arrow. The man jerked a bit, bumping into the woman who was unable to pay attention to her surroundings due to Jisung's previous love arrow seconds earlier. Perfect timing.

He watched from his spot in the trees as they both sputtered apologies to each other with gleaming smiles on their faces along with a shared lovestruck expression.

I did it. Jisung thought to himself proudly.

He watched as the woman said something to the man and next thing he knew, the both of them were walking off down the street together towards a coffee shop. A fond smile graced his features as he watched the couple until they entered the cafe.

Jisung then began looking around for the human girl that garnered his attention—you. When he couldn't find you, he left his post, flying above the streets while heading in the direction he saw you walking.

When he spotted you (thankfully not far away from where he last saw you) he decided to follow, wanting just one more glimpse of you since he got distracted earlier.

Jisung's bottom lip stuck out in a disappointed pout when you entered a building and he could no longer see you.

Before he could try and find out which floor you were headed to, his watch went off again, tearing his attention away from you for the second time.

The cupid glanced at his watch to see who his next client was. Loading a love arrow into his bow, he diligently aimed and released it, repeating the process when an image of his second client flashed on the screen of his watch. The two began talking which brought a smile to Jisung's face. He heard stories from other cupids about Valentines Day and how fulfilling it was to watch their clients fall in love after being struck with one of their magic arrows. He dreamed of the day he would be able to do what his seniors did and now he was. It was just as fulfilling as Jisung imagined, however, he had something else on his mind now and that was trying to locate you... again.

His eyes searched the many windows in the apartment building, hoping to see you in one of them. There were at least ten floors and twice as many windows. Jisung had no clue how he would find you.

Just when he thought all hopes were dashed, he caught a glimpse of you through one of the glass panes. You were stood inside, gazing out the window at the streets below.

He promptly flew over and made himself comfortable on the grated platform of the fire escape that was mounted to the side of your apartment building.

He was thankful humans couldn't see cupids or else you'd be really freaked out to see a stranger perched outside your window. If a cupid wanted to be seen, they would show themselves and right now, Jisung preferred to stay hidden.

Your eyes followed the figure of a delivery man walking down the street with a large bouquet of roses in his arms.

What is it like to receive flowers from someone? You wondered.

The man made his way up the steps of someone's home, knocking on the front door that was pulled opened seconds later. A woman stood in the entryway, astonishment and joy flashing across her features at the sight of the ruby-colored blossoms.

"Must be nice." You commented aloud.

Back in school, you'd see girls walking around with a heart-shaped balloon and a box of chocolates or a stuffed teddy bear and a single rose. Of course, you were never one of those girls and a small part of you always wondered what it was like to receive something like that from someone.

Oh well. You had chocolate and tons of delicious snacks, you didn't need flowers. Stepping away from the living room window, you dropped down on the couch and opened up YouTube on your TV, searching for something entertaining to watch. After settling on a new video from one of your favorite content creators, you began sifting through your bag of treats, completely unaware that someone was watching.

Jisung's wide eyes observed you in fascination as you unwrapped a piece of chocolate and popped it into your mouth, savoring the sweet taste.

He knew humans often indulged in chocolate and junk food on Valentine's Day, but that was usually for the ones that were single... which meant you were alone. On second thought, maybe alone wasn't the right word, as you seemed rather content to be by yourself.

The cupid's watch went off again, startling him from his daze and simultaneously catching him off guard. He scrambled to grab an arrow, fumbling to load it into his bow. He spared a hasty glance at the image on his watch before launching the arrow, except it didn't soar through the air towards his target. Instead, it went directly into Jisung's chest. He had loaded the arrow backwards.

"Ah!" He yelped, snapping his head towards your window, momentarily worried you had heard him. However, he was quick to remember that he was invisible.

With one concern out of the way, he pulled the arrow from his chest cavity and retrieved a new one from his quiver, hastily loading it before aiming at his client. He nearly missed but managed to get a hit. Not a second later, his watch went off again. This time, he was paying attention and was able to execute his actions with no hiccups.

He breathed out a sigh of relief only to glance down at the arrow he discarded moments earlier, lying on the grates of the fire escape.

He gasped.

That's right. He shot himself with his own love arrow.

"Oh no." He grabbed his hair, tugging on the roots in a stressful manner. "Oh no."

He spared a glance towards you, still sitting peacefully on the couch watching TV.

"No!" He covered his eyes.

He wasn't supposed to look at anyone.

Now you've done it. He thought despairingly.

He was totally screwed.

"Okay, okay." He slowly released the breath he was holding in, talking out loud in order to calm himself down. "Don't panic."

He was totally panicking.

The first thing that came to mind was that he needed to notify Minho. His heart dropped to his feet at the thought, the color promptly draining from his face.

Oh no. Minho.

He placed a hand on his chest, feeling his rapid pulse beneath it.

"This isn't good. I can already feel my heart racing. The effects are already starting to take place."

He hung his head, muttering to himself while he tried to figure out what to do. Jisung knew telling Minho would be the right thing to do, but he didn't want to. If he did, he'd surely get an earful from the older cupid.

Maybe the symptoms wouldn't get bad. In fact, maybe they'd just go away.

Your loud laughter captured Jisung's attention and pulled him out of his worry-induced thoughts. Head thrown back against the couch cushions, you were clutching your stomach, letting your joyful laughter fill the apartment.

Jisung couldn't help but smile, the sound of your giggles sparking happiness and adoration within him.

Yeah, maybe he would hold off on telling Minho.

Days passed and Jisung's escapades continued. He would leave Cupid Headquarters and go off to see you, peering into your apartment from the window by the fire escape. From his vantage point, he had a good view of the open kitchen where he watched you cook meals for yourself.

He picked up on your little habits and things you did without a second thought.

Jisung's heart fluttered at the way your eyes crinkled when you laughed at something on TV or the way you spoke your thoughts aloud, giving your own commentary to no one at all.

A week was all it took for Jisung to spill the beans. While perched on the grated floor of the fire escape, he became self-aware of all the emotions he was feeling and how incredibly strong they were. Any time he looked at you it felt like a his chest was struck with an iron fist, taking his breath away. The need to be closer to you, to speak to you was so strong it was almost beyond his control.

He was infatuated.

"Minho!" Jisung shouted, rushing over to his friend and coworker, his wings flapping as fast as they possibly could.

Minho huffed, rolling his eyes. "What?"

The younger cupid came to a halt. "I did something terrible."

"I'm sure it's nothing."

"No, no. It's bad." Jisung dropped his head into his hands. "I shot myself with my own arrow. I can't believe I was so stupid! The effects are in full force. It's not working as fast as with humans but I'm really feeling it. You see, there's this girl and oh... every time I see her my heart races and I find myself watching her go about her daily life. She's so beautiful and I can't stop thinking about her. She's on my mind 24/7. I'm really falling hard, Minho. I don't know what to do. Please help me."

"Love arrows don't work on cupids." Minho produced an answer in a dead delivery, his eyes blinking languidly.

Jisung's rambling was put to an immediate halt as he stared wide-eyed at the older cupid.

"What?"

"We're immune."

"So..." Jisung trailed off. "I didn't screw up?"

"No."

"If the arrow doesn't effect me, then what does that mean?"

"It means you're in love with a human."

Jisung blinked owlishly. "In love?"

"You're a cupid, Hannie. We tend to fall in love very quickly."

"What do I do?"

"For starters, you could introduce yourself."

"I can do that?"

"If you want to. There's no rules against it. Love is love, after all."

Jisung was left to figure out how he was going to go about this whole situation and how to approach you. He laid back on his bed, running his fingers through his silver hair, releasing a sigh.

He didn't even know your name.

Maybe he could give you your favorite chocolate, assuming that's what you were indulging in when he saw you for the first time on Valentines Day.

He expelled another sigh. No. He needed something else—something better.

"Come on." He murmured.

He had been secretly admiring you for a while, surely there was something he was able to learn about you during that time.

Suddenly, a lightbulb went off and Jisung sat upright with wide eyes that glimmered with elation.

Flowers.

He'll never forget that look of longing on your face as you watched that delivery man bring a bouquet to a woman across the street.

Now all that was left was figure out how he was going to introduce himself without freaking you out.

He smirked to himself.

"I could use my undeniable charms and that thing Minho said humans say. What was it again?"

"Rizz! Can you believe it?" Minho exclaimed exasperatedly, shaking his head. "I can't believe humans are using such a ridiculous word."

"What does rizz mean?"

"It's short for charisma."

Jisung hummed, nodding.

"I'm gonna rizz him up." Minho mocked, rolling his eyes. "It's embarrassing. Honestly."

"Rizz." Jisung repeated with a sly grin. "Yeah."

Wait. Did he even have rizz?

The cupid groaned in frustration. This shouldn't be complicated.

Jisung returned to your apartment the following day to put his plan in motion. The window to your living room was cracked ever so slightly. Not exactly smart or safe on your part, but convenient for Jisung who entered with ease.

In his arms was the prettiest bouquet of roses he could find. Little white tufts of baby's breath were placed throughout the arrangement which sat beautifully in a vase.

The cupid placed the arrangement on your coffee table so you could see the flowers as soon as you got home, taking a moment to spread out the cluster of crimson blossoms and make it look presentable.

Now all he had to do was wait.

You stepped into your apartment and dropped your keys into the glass dish by the door, releasing a short sigh, thankful to be home. The shoes on your feet were kicked off without a care as to where they landed while you shuffled into your living room, coming to a stop when you noticed a bouquet of flowers sitting on your coffee table.

You looked down at them perplexed, wondering how they got inside your apartment.

"Who are these from?" You wondered aloud, searching the bunch of blossoms for a card or something that indicated who the sender was.

"Me."

You jumped at the sound of another person's voice, spinning on your heel to find a man sitting on the windowsill in your living room.

Assessing his appearance, you could only assume he was some cosplayer getting paid to dress as Cupid and deliver flowers. Though this guy seemed to take a more modern approach, wearing a pair of white slacks and a pale pink shirt made of delicate tulle fabric, but the set of wings on his back was a dead giveaway.

Oh geez. Surely he wasn't one of those singing telegrams.

Wait. How did he get in your house?

You instinctively took a step back. "Who are you and how did you get in here?"

"I'm Jisung and your window was cracked."

He could see your eyes widen and knew you were about to start freaking out or throwing things at him—or both.

"I'm not here to steal anything! I only came to bring you flowers." He assured in a rushed manner before you could do anything rash.

"Why?"

"Because..."

Jisung didn't think this through. You were clearly on edge and he wasn't making it any better. What was he supposed to say?

"I'm a cupid."

He wasn't expecting to spill the beans so soon, but it's the only thing he could think to say.

You narrowed your eyes. "I can see that, but why are you here?"

"To bring you flowers."

"So did someone pay you?"

Jisung's head tilted to the side like a confused puppy. "Pay me for what?"

"To dress up. Are you one of those people who dress like cupid and deliver things?"

"No. I don't even get paid for what I do."

"And what do you do?"

"I'm a cupid."

"With those fake wings? I don't think so."

"Do these look fake to you?" He turned, showing off the set of white wings on his back.

You were prepared to say yes when you saw them twitch.

A gasp left you. "How did you do that?"

"They're attached to me?" His response was spoken like a question.

"No." You shook your head, letting out a laugh of disbelief. "You have some sort of mechanism that makes them move."

Jisung wore a confused expression the entire time you spoke. "No."

"I don't understand."

"If you need more proof, I'll let you touch my wings." He turned again, presenting them to you.

They did look real—a little too real.

You apprehensively approached the so-called cupid, holding your hand out until it made contact with the white feathers protruding from his back. He shivered lightly under your touch, feeling the sensation of your fingers ghosting over them.

Now that you were up close, you could clearly see that the wings were coming out of his skin which was exposed due to the way the shirt was made, the fabric draping down low to reveal his (very muscular) upper back.

"Do you believe me now?"

You pulled your hand away, nodding wordlessly, unable to speak.

"I'm sorry if I scared you. You see, I first saw you on Valentines Day and ever since then I've been observing you from right there." He pointed to the metal fire escape just outside the living room window.

What? No. You would've known if someone was watching, especially if they were right outside your window.

"I never saw you."

"Cupids can't be seen unless they want to be. That's how we do our jobs."

Just as you were prepared to question him, he disappeared, causing you to stumble back in surprise.

"Ah! Sorry, sorry!" He reappeared, apologizing profusely. "I just wanted to show some proof."

"Why were you watching me?"

The tips of Jisung's ears tinted pink.

"Well..." He chewed on his bottom lip. "I like you. I just learned that cupids tend to fall for people quickly which is why I couldn't seem to stay away. Once I laid eyes on you, it was like a magnet was pulling me."

This was a lot to process.

"I needed a way to introduce myself and I saw the way you looked at that delivery guy with the flowers on Valentines Day, so I thought a bouquet of roses would be a nice gift."

He was watching you then? Suddenly you felt a little embarrassed.

"I've never received flowers from someone."

"Well, now you have. I would've added a card but I don't know your name."

"It's Y/n."

At last, the pretty girl Jisung had been swooning over had a name.

"Well, Y/n, I'm sorry for startling you. I'll let myself out."

"Don't leave."

He paused.

"You can't just tell me you're a cupid and not expect me to have questions."

A bright grin spread across Jisung's face. "What do you want to know?"

No part 2

Masterlist ᝰ — enjoyed this imagine? reblogs & comments are very much appreciated!

DO NOT steal, plagiarize, copy, repost, alter, or translate my works in any way

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[storm-angel989]

Greetings, if I may ask, may I have a one-shot where the reader, aka his daughter(teen), comes out to valentino as aroace. Mabye she is scared he will not like her because he is known for the exact opposite if that makes sense.

If you wish to not write this, please make me aware

-L.B Creations

Hi friend,

Thank you for working with me on this! I always appreciate when a not anonymous poster asks for something I have little personal experience with. It allows me to touch base with them personally in addition to my own research so that I can better understand a perspective. I do hope I've written this story accurately, and as always- feedback is appreciated!

<3 Mandy

Aroace. 

I stared at my computer, chewing up every tidbit of information I could find. Relief washed over me. Finally, a word for it. A word that describes me.  And the more I read, the more I saw myself. For the longest time, I wondered if something was wrong with me. Why all my friends were interested in relationships, in sex and in kissing- dating and going to dances,  I had no desire to do any of that. Actually, if I was being honest with myself, the idea of sex kind of repulsed me. 

Sure I liked hugs. And I liked the idea of being held.  I had lots of friends- friends I would text every day. I could appreciate peoples looks- pretty eyes, beautiful hair, a nice set of muscles. But that didn’t mean I wanted to sleep with them. Or do anything beyond enjoying and appreciating their presence in my life. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to the Spring Fling?” My father asked over breakfast yesterday morning. “I can get you a date, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Shame rushed over me and I looked down, away from the gaze of the overlord of lust and depravity. My father was known for sleeping with anything and everything- for a price. In my own household, it was known but not spoken that he was in a relationship with my Uncle Vox and Aunt Velvette. Polysexual, the internet called it. Not that a label made a difference for him. Actually, I wasn’t sure there was an accurate label for what my father did. 

That conversation was the most recent of many, many conversations between my father and I. He would encourage me to date, brought me hotel rooms I never used, and even sent Aunt Velvette to talk to me about safe sex. Although he never said it, all of his insistence left me feeling like something was wrong with me. 

It was that feeling that led me here, to the internet, desperately trying to figure out if I was broken. But according to the blogs and information I found, I wasn’t broken. Not in the slightest. I was aroace. With a sigh, I pushed myself away from the computer, my stomach in knots. I had an answer to why I felt the way I did. I had a word for it. Now I needed to tell my father. Hopefully, it would go well and he would understand.

And not kick me out. Or tell me I was broken. Or any of the thousand things that he could say. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more my anxiety grew. The overlord of sex- having an aroace daughter? Would he even accept it? Would he still love me? I swallowed back the overwhelming fear and walked over to the elevator. Two o’clock. Dad would be in his office, filing paperwork. 

“Ah! Bebita princessa,” Valentino announced as I walked into his office. “Come, come mi amore. Sit, I have several prospects for you to…”

“Daddy? Can we talk?” I asked as I sat down in the chair in front of his desk. “It’s kind of important.”

“Of course princessa, what’s on your mind?” Valentino leaned back in his chair. “I’m all yours, mi amore.” 

I took a deep breath. “Dad, I’ve felt like this for a while and I’m…I know you’ve been trying to set me up on dates and I don’t mean to be rude, I just…please just promise you’ll always love me.” I could feel my lower lip start to quiver and tears burned at the corner of my eye. 

Alarm spread across his features. In a flash, he knelt in front of me. I felt the warmth of his hand as he cupped my chin. 

“Bebita, I will always love you. What is it? Did someone hurt you?” He demanded. “Princessa, talk to Daddy.”

I felt a hiccup in my chest, a painful burn and I took a deep breath. Now or never. 

“Daddy, I think I’m aroace. I, I don’t like anyone romantically, I just…” My words trailed off into a dissolve of tears. 

He wrapped his arms around me and I leaned into his shoulder and cried. 

“Settle yourself, ninita,” he said softly. “Shussh. Daddy loves you. Daddy isn’t mad. I would never be.”

“Please don’t force me to try it, the internet said…” I sobbed into his shoulder. “Daddy, I…”

“I would never, mi amore,” he reassured gently. “If aroace is what you identify as, then I won’t push to set you up on dates. I would have never done so if that’s how you feel. Hey, bebita, look at me.”

I raised my head up from his shoulder and rubbed my eyes with the sleeve of my shirt. I tried to catch my breath, but dissolved again into a sobbing mess of tears. He sighed and took me into his arms again. 

“Reader. Reader. It’s okay, I’m not upset with you- you are who you are, and I love you for that,” he said as he rubbed my back. “I would never not.”

“How is it gonna look, the overlord of lust’s daughter doesn’t want anything to do with sex?” I choked out. 

I felt him chuckle, a low rumble in his chest. 

“Who gives a fuck what the rest of the world thinks? You’re my daughter. You’re all that matters,” he said as he ran a hand down my hair. “Come on now, deep breath. I love you very much. And I always will.”

[sleepingingarden]

What's ur Au about? :3

:D thanks for asking!! it's still a major WIP that's all over the place in terms of ideas, as you'll notice, but the overall gist is that the FNAF1 and 2 animatronics have escaped into the woods and are like. camping out and killing people, and there's these paranormal investigators including Mike, a young Vanessa, and a mother of one of the missing kids, who have to track them down. If I do a comic or fic it would switch between the animatronics/spirits' perspective, and the investigators' perspective (hence the name of the AU)! There's lots more I will share about characters once I finish writing my toyhouse pages, but here's a few more tidbits and distinctions from canon that I find interesting...

The Fredbear Plush is CC/David's guardian angel instead of just William with a walkie talkie bc that's laaaame and boring!! My "Friendbear" just wanted to comfort a little boy who was being bullied but ends up getting roped into the whole mess that is FNAF, and helps Mike and the other protags free the spirits. I imagine him being like jiminy cricket or the bug from puss in boots personality-wise. Just constantly disturbed by everything from the bloodthirsty animatronics to the unethical business practices of faz ent. all while still trying to believe there is some good inside springtrap. lol

Cassidy doesn't exist---sort of? I wanted to do my own spin on Golden Duo, so In my AU Cassidy is an alter personality of David created from the agony of the Bite. She suppresses David to protect him and becomes the one in control of Golden Freddy, to Mike's dismay. I wanted her to reflect the way real alters are made from trauma. I've done a lot of research on DID in the past as I don't have it but I do want to make sure I do them justice!

In terms of how possession works, I wanted to set some clearly defined rules and terms. The investigators come up with 3 different terms to describe different types of possession---'Dependent' types, like Circus Baby, have high enough AI levels that the AI and spirit fuse and alter the spirit's identity and memories. 'Degenerative' types like Freddy are older models with lower AI; they slowly lose their memories and identity over time until they become like animals. Finally, 'Independent' types like the Puppet also have low AI levels but are able to maintain their awareness; usually through some sort of strong motive or complex unfinished business that requires more thought

Some more random changes: most of SL doesn't happen, FNAF3 and 6 are combined, the MCI happens during fall fest '83, there are no 'un-withereds,' FNAF2 is a sequel, Scrap Baby is basically Ennard, Funtime Freddy is a LEFTE stand-in

[tanuki-kimono]

Hello! I love your blog bc it helps me a lot with writing and crafting. Thank you so much for making it!

Are there any patterns that deal with poison? Either in the pattern or in the dyeing process?

Even if there's not I'm glad you and this blog exist 💗

(anon continues) Poison in the dyeing process, like when green dresses were dyed with copper arsenite and it was extremely deadly.

Or a pattern of someone being poisoned, like a historical/folktale.

_______________________________________

Thank you for your kind words <3 I tried to keep things organized but the subject is huge so my of the top of my head answer is going in many directions. I hope you'll still find what you need :3

I'll briefly cover here dyes and (pigments), poison motifs, real life and supernatural poisonings. Buckle up we've got a long post ahead!

____ ABOUT DYE

Tbh I had to think for a moment because I don't recall major "poison" stories linked to dyes in Japan, be it fictionous or real (yet that doesn't mean none ever happened, especially considering Japan's history of industrial poisonings...).

Most gruesome details in the fabric industries I know of are about the horrific life & work conditions of female laborers in spinning mill manufactures (as in many countries, Japan industrialization process was ghastly...).

If potters and dyers had excellent practical knowledge, chemistry as a science officially started kind of late in Japan as it was not a local interest, and as rangaku (study of Western knowledge) often favored other subjects like medicine or warfare.

So, until the introduction of aniline dyes (not textile related, but this article about the use of synthetic dyes in ukiyoe printing is super interesting), Japanese worked with "natural" dyes, like ai (indigo) which was the most used during Edo period.

As with any ingredient, being natural doesn't equal safety. Some mixtures could be quite potent/foul, and process could be dangerous. Plants and minerals base ingredients could be toxic (cinnabar and orpiments were then used as paint pigments, and lead could be found in make up), as were mordants used to set colors.

If you want to easily overview which ingredients were used to create colors, I recommand browsing [Irocore] which presents colors with explanation in English in their database (pick a color then scroll down).

Not related to poison, but ai (indigo) is traditionally prepared in aigame/enormous floor set jars I find utterly terrifying:

I don't know if this tidbit can help you, but some dyes and mordants actually damage the fabric overtime, leaving them brittle (silk desintegrates after a while which is a huge issue in textile conservation).

____ POISON MOTIFS

Concerning "poison" themed patterns, none would be actually used traditionally on a kimono or an obi beside novelty items ^^;

For example, many plants can be toxic, but I don't see them set as pattern for this property - they'd rather refer to a poem, be a symbol of the passing of seasons etc. Fuji (wisteria) can be quite harmful, yet it's a beloved traditional motif in Japan.

You have much more chances to find pattern with kujaku (peacock) which are thought to be impervious to poison in Buddhism, than say venomous mukade (centipede) or the horrific ômukade (a youkai I covered in a folktale).

Snakes like the habu and mamushi are dangerous, but if used as pattern snakes are most often auspicious and linked to rain dragons or goddess Benzaiten.

If you squint hard, toxic fugu could count as poison pattern, but such a seasonal delicacy as a motif would mostly underline wealth (as those fishes are pretty expensive as they are prepared by specialized chefs), a kind of carpe diem spirit, or just a fun pattern because fugu balloon shape is cute ;)

____ POISON MURDERS

Poisoning was certainly a thing is Japan since ancient times (see kodoku sorcery). Poisons were for example used in some fishing techniques.

I am pretty sure some kuge and buke were disposed of this way - even thought poison was seen as a coward weapon (hence why its supposed to be only used by shinobi/ninja - even if this "fact" is opened to a lot of discussions!).

During Edo period, such murders made up the news and penny dreadful-like illustrated books favored by city dwellers in need of a fright. But those stories didn't pass to posterity beside cheap ukiyoe plates, and were never as popular as some shinjû (double suicides) or ghost revenges like poor poisoned and murdered Oiwa's:

____ SUPERNATURAL POISONINGS

If your poison is both physical and metaphorical illbeing, mushi could be your guys ^^ This term actually covers everything small and crawling, from real worms and insects, to anything inside one's body causing distress - be it a parasite, an unknown illness, an overboard emotion, a curse etc. If you've read/seen Mushishi you've got what I mean:

In fact any illness-causing being could count as poison-bringer. Hôsôkami (smallpox demon) was truly feared by all before vaccination was introduced in Japan.

Finally, continuing the supernatural poisoning trail, best girl is probably legendary fox witch Tamamo no Mae who among other terrible deeds made emperor Konoe fall sick with poisonous miasma (some version of the story attributes the disease to another monster, the nue). I covered a similar murderous kitsune folktale here.

[queenthiax]

Gilly's Letters

Just a tidbit I wanted to get out of my brain, Gilly Cinderheart you have all of my heart <3 Even though I like to break it doing things like this.

- Dear Mama,

I made it to the adventurer’s guild! I would have written earlier, but getting all of the paperwork done and settled into my quarters ended up taking longer than I expected and the next thing I knew we were getting schedules and orders.

Everything around here happens so quickly it makes my head spin. I think Papa would like the hustle and bustle of the routine though. He always complains about how bored he is at home. 

They’re telling me that training starts tomorrow though. I thought getting accepted into the Guild meant that they had already assigned me to a seasoned adventurer, but it seems that there is some basic training they like everyone to go through before that. And something about the choices being made ‘after the heroes get to see our grit’ with their own eyes.

I’m taking everything in stride though! I’ll make sure to show everyone here what I’ve got and make sure the support everyone at home has given me will be worth it!

All of my love,

Gilly-pad

–

Dearest Mama,

Thank you for the care package, knowing that a taste of home will be waiting for me after each day of training is the best motivation to get through the day.

Training is… hard. I knew it would be, but it's so eye opening the difference in expectations here for monster hunting and adventuring is to the little threats that I handled for everyone at home. Really gives a lot of scale to how important the work is!

We haven’t had any adventurer’s looking for apprentices coming in yet, but my teachers all say they’re really impressed with my skills! Especially my ‘special skill’. It’s been really amusing to spar with others who take my size for granted and get to show them how sturdy us halflings can be!

Doing everything to keep you proud, give Papa my love.

Your Gilly-pad

–

MAMA!!!!

I GOT CHOSEN!! I’M OFFICIALLY AN APPRENTICE TO A GREAT ADVENTURER!!

MAMA YOU WON’T BELIEVE WHO IT IS!! 

THE GREAT SIR HORACE TREATY!!!

HE CAME AND WATCHED US AND PICKED ME OUT OF EVERYONE!!!

I’M SO HAPPY I COULD MELT!!

YOUR OFFICIAL ADVENTURER APPRENTICE DAUGHTER!!

LOVE LOVE LOVE FROM YOUR GILLY-PAD

–

My lovely Mama,

Life on the road has been so hectic, I apologize for the sporadic letters. I didn’t realize how unreliable sending through different post offices could be. Don’t worry too much about trying to keep track of me, sending them to the Adventurer’s Guild will make sure I get them eventually!

But it’s officially been a month! I’ve already been on so many adventures and helped slay so many monsters. It’s been a wonder to watch Sir Horace and his frequent companions work.

Sir Horace treats me well! We’re still getting to know each other so I do fear sometimes he keeps up his ‘hero’ act up with me, but I know I’m wearing him down!

Can’t write long since I have so many tasks to keep up with! But do know I’m having the time of my life! Tell Papa to not get jealous of my adventures!

Your monster slaying girl,

Gilly-pad

–

Mama,

I know the letters don’t come often enough, I’m so sorry about that. Sir Horace is taking my training seriously though and keeping me plenty busy!

Not only am I learning about actual adventuring and monster slaying, but he is doing the work to make sure I stay… humble. It’s important to not look down on all of the small tasks that keep you moving every day!

And I am never bored! Even when we’re not working Sir Horace keeps my mind sharp with his tales of his years of experience!

One day I want to show you all the places I’ve seen… I think you’d like some of them. But not as much as I love home, I hope to visit you soon.

All my love,

Gilly-pad

–

Mamsies,

I was just speaking with Sir Horace and he has given me leave once we get back to the city to come back home and visit for a while! He won’t have need of my services for a bit and I do crave your cooking.

We have an engagement - the fabled feast of glory - on the 25th of this month, but afterwards I’ll make my way back to you all! And I’ll be able to tell you of all the heroes I meet at the party!

Missing you and Papa always,

Gilly-pad

–

As darkness starts to take her - her body worn and bruised - the bravado of her last ‘fuck you’ leaves Gilly’s heart… one final thought… “I wish I could have read your letters Mama… I hope you’ve gotten mine… I’m sorry I couldn’t make good on my promise to visit one last time….”

[secondhandsorrows]

Drafting in 3 Parts

Just popping through to share a tidbit of advice I’d learned from a writer friend some years ago that helps break down the drafting process of storytelling and into perspective. It’s something that’s really stuck with me the more I get into drafting, and has really helped to put the whole, large-scale process into simple terms that makes the drafting stage seem a lot less… you know, frightening. 

It is broken down into three parts:

1. Make it work.

2. Make it right.

3. Make it good. 

Sounds easy, right? Well, I thought so, too. In fact, that’s the whole drafting, editing, and revising process right there, plain as day. In this post, I will walk you through how I understand these steps and utilize them in my own writing, so that you too could incorporate them into your own processes in a way that works for you. 

Let’s begin!

Step One: Make it Work

So what’s actually in this so-called “work” stage?

It’s exactly as the word suggests, but in two ways simultaneously. You do the work by putting the words on paper, while also making sure the story works. This doesn’t mean just grammar or spelling… This means alloting some care and effort to keeping the pace and avoiding any large-scale plot holes that would otherwise derail your entire story, which, of course, makes it harder to keep going. 

It’s not going to be good at first — we’ll get to that in step three. And it sure won’t be pretty. But this is the drafting stage… all you gotta do is show up and do the work. 

Step Two: Make it Right

This is where things get a little tricky. It’s easy to confuse this step with the previous step, as both blend the lines a little of having the story make sense. 

So what does this all entail? 

Well, a few things. Make it right can be attributed to the editing process, be it line-by-line grammar edits, syntax, word choice, and structure. Maybe storywise there’s a few descriptions that need tweaking, some inconsistencies needing a quick fix… what ever you can catch as you read through. Is the POV the right choice for the kind of story you’re telling? Does this character have a clear arc that gets fully wrapped up at the end? Speaking of which, are all those little subplots — or any other loose ends — tied up? Would it help to add a flashback, or get rid of that scene that goes nowhere altogether? Any places where you can show, not tell, or vice versa?

In short, this all boils down to make the story you’re trying to tell right: not only to you, but to the reader as well. 

Step Three: Make it Good

What consitutes a “good” story? Engaging characters, an immersive setting, solid themes and arcs, a gripping plot… we can go on forever. It’s a lot to keep track of, and it’s easy to lose sight of one thing in the grand scheme of writing. But the story has to be good. 

There, I said it! 

Come on, we were all thinking it. It’s clear that not everyone is going to like your story, and that’s a fact. As a writer, you not only want to be sure that the story is good in your eyes, but to that of the readers’, as well, for they are the ones you are going to keep engaged and waiting for your next release. You’re going to open their minds to new things, new ideas… that’s how you build a platform as a writer. What’s going to hold them back is poor pacing, underdeveloped characters, awkward dialogue, predictability, etc. Most if not all of these are what can make or break the story you’re trying to tell. 

But, in the end, this is your story: your own work of art. Have fun with it! Passion works in tandem with creativity: it’s there in your style and prose, your deep explorations of underlying themes and overarching ideas that you love to write about, the characters you’ve come up with that stick with you. There’s a reason why you wanted to tell this story— keep that in mind as you write. No one can tell or write your story quite like you can. 

[bidisasterevankinard]

Tease Tidbit Tuesday 😏

even if it's officially wednesday for me for almost an hour

tagged by @forthewolves @jesuisici33 @lover-of-mine @giddyupbuck @wikiangela @eddiediaztho @ladydorian05 thank you all 💙💙💙💙

bra fic is occupied all my mind and I think it's a my goal is to finish this by Thursday

I'm sorry for all mistakes I've just wrote it

“So what did you buy?”

And a second after that the realization that they were in a lingerie store suddenly hits him in the face like a slap and jealousy rakes him into its cage, embraces every part of his soul and body, squeezing him in a vice, this huge green monster which constantly overcomes him when he is next to Buck and someone can take Buck’s attention from him takes control of his brain and he does not have time to stop it.

“Did you meet someone? How long ago did it happen that you bought her lingerie?”

How long could Buck hide from him that he has someone? How long has Eddie been deluding himself that he and Chris and their family as they are now are enough for Buck?

Buck raises his eyebrow for a second and then smiles a little.

“Are you jealous, Eds?” Buck closes his locker and fully faces him crossing his muscular hands over his voluptuous chest making it more appealing with the way Buck’s pectoral muscles squeezes together under the blue fabric, which hugs Buck almost like a second skin. 

Eddie still thinks that Buck should go and change the size of his uniform to a slightly larger one. 

The way he looks in it distracts from work and makes people think indecent thoughts in the workplace. 

It can't be just Eddie who has such thoughts about Buck's immense love for tight clothes and constant hours in the gym, which every day only sharpens his muscles more to such an extent that Eddie is ready like the sculptors of the Renaissance era, to take a plane in his hands, look for a rock deserving of Buck and cut out of it a sculpture worthy of the beauty of Buck's body. 

Buck invests so much in the way he looks and Eddie is ready to write poetry, make sculptures, paint paintings or write songs, anything to capture this beauty for posterity, and to show to the blue-eyed man how much he appreciates all this. 

But Eddie is too afraid of what would happen when he shows how much he loves Buck's body. 

The thing he fears the most not even that Buck would understand how much and irrevocably Eddie is in love with him, but that he, on the contrary, would think that Eddie, like all past Buck’s partners, wants him only for the sake of his body, desires him only because of his appearance and what he can give him for satisfaction of physical parts.

But it’s not it. 

...

“It’s him,” Buck says and Eddie hopes that this man will ignite right now, because he probably doesn't deserve a drop of Buck's attention, and how did Buck manage to hide his boyfriend from Eddie for so long? Is he shy? Thinks Eddie won't approve? 

Well, he doesn't approve of any person Buck dates because all these people don’t deserve him.

They don’t deserve such a kind and sweet, brave and smart, intelligent and funny, caring person, who has a big heart he wears on his sleeve and a smile which is so beautiful and bright and sometimes takes Eddie’s breath away, but Eddie’s sure all people feel it when Buck smiles like that.

Even if he hopes they will suffocate as they dared to look at Buck.

“And I've known him all my life because it’s me,” Buck smiles and winks at him. 

“And it’s just a bra. I used to wear them a lot for years but hadn’t really done it for,” Buck put his hand on his chin trying to remember how long he wasn’t wearing bras, while Eddie's brain efforts to figure out if he misheard and Buck said he bought a bra for himself. 

He can only blink stupidly at his best friend.

tagging @spotsandsocks @hippolotamus @spaceprincessem @alyxmastershipper @monsterrae1 @911onabc @userdisaster @transbuck @translasso @buddierights @pirrusstuff @elvensorceress @the-likesofus @thewolvesof1998 @honestlydarkprincess @loserdiaz @jeeyuns @wildlife4life @bekkachaos @ebdaydreamer @cowboy-buddie @caroandcats @rogerzsteven @barbiediaz @heartshapedvows @housewifebuck @mandzuking17 @devirnis if they want to share

[batsplat]

I watched Marc’s all in documentary recently and I was wondering if you had any thoughts on it

icl it's been a while since I've watched it and I'm not sure I have any particular original thoughts about it that haven't been extensively covered elsewhere. it's the closest equivalent to valentino/casey's autobiographies and the jorge biography (that was written in close collaboration with jorge) in that it's marc mostly writing the narrative himself of his career... which makes it primarily interesting not in terms of the knowledge it imparts, but in the editorial choices made wrt what to focus on, how to frame the events it covers, etc. now, personally, I'd rather we had an actual autobiography to work with given how those are a little meatier than five half hour episodes... inevitably, this documentary is very much centred around marc's injury and comeback from that, which is obviously compelling in its own right but means an awful lot is being left out. I found it a rewarding watch, but in a lot of places it did leave me wanting more

all that being said, it's still interesting! quite emotionally vulnerable - a work with strong confessional vibes that makes a spectacle out of marc's own suffering. it's not just about being open, it's about being open as part of the show. it's making a point of lowering his guard, letting the public in... the laser focus on his own torment does feel quite specific to him, like I can't really imagine any of the other aliens feeling all too comfortable applying that particular lens to their own experiences. which makes it the strongest aspect of the documentary - you kind of want to tease out the things that are unique to his approach, right, and this quasi-exhibitionist fervour in drawing the viewer into the suffering is a very marc way of going about things. marc has never been particularly shy about showing off his injuries... but obviously this arm situation made everything even more extreme, it transformed his outlook. for a while there, his pain went from being ever-present to being everything. no wonder that's what he's most preoccupied with... no wonder that's what he wants to really let the public in on, where he feels particularly misunderstood. still, it's a very deliberate vulnerability that also functions as a bit of a sleight of hand. when someone is being that honest about one aspect of their internal life, it's worth wondering if they're attempting to distract from something else, to draw attention away from all the areas where they're being considerably less revealing. marc is willing to be vulnerable when it comes to his injuries (to some extent, cf him pretending like he's no longer in pain this year where that admission might now hinder him competitively), but he's a lot less willing to be vulnerable about a lot of other things

again, all the injury journey stuff is really where the documentary shines. the other stuff is primarily interesting for the editorial choices - I'm a big fan of how they're actively showing him give his opinions on the editing lol, very meta. it's got quite a scattershot approach to what got included or not... just little tidbits of his rivalries with dani, jorge and valentino that are all too short to be entirely satisfying. obviously, the valentino stuff conspicuously buried in the third of five episodes is what marc truly wanted to get off his chest... I enjoyed how he said he just had to talk about it, like how could he possibly have left it out. buddy, it's a self-produced documentary about your injury! you can do what you want! there's a few nice lines about valentino... plus marc himself pinpointing the ranch as a turning point in their relationship (both in the documentary and in a separate interview from the same time, I believe). now, I've always been a bit curious about how much that excursion was really a turning point. it's not something that valentino has ever brought up... as fun a narrative as it is, for a long time it was reliant on a couple of rumours and that one motocross bloke saying they were extremely competitive with each other on the track - which, no shit. going purely by the eye test, it's only really in 2015 that the two of them are getting more distant towards each other in pressers. so it was neat that marc himself confirmed that there really was something there! might still be an element of retrospectively making sense of what happened, marc himself trying to figure out where it all went wrong... but it did make me buy into the centrality of the ranch a lot more

but yeah, otherwise... the valentino stuff was pretty interesting, but the jorge and dani stuff just sometimes felt thrown in there willy-nilly. as I recall,, some rather awkward transitions between the present day injury stuff and then suddenly talking about aragon 2013 or whatever. it is a documentary that could have benefited from a little more focus and direction, also really just more space and energy devoted to telling the story of marc's whole career. there is something a bit odd about having a five part documentary that's 75% about his injury comeback and 25% about a specific three year stretch in his career. I don't even have any particular enthusiasm for that rivalry, but pretty much my first thought after finishing the last episode was 'wait, where's dovi'. I might be misremembering, but I don't really think he was featured at all? that guy finished runner up to you three times, marc! I know valentino wasn't interested in participating in the documentary, but did dovi refuse? really? obviously you can draw conclusions from this exclusion if you so please about how seriously marc really took that particular rivalry - but just wrt the actual contents of the documentary, it's a bit of a shame that 2016-19 was a bit of a black hole. anyway, my favourite part of the whole thing was marc talking about sabotaging dani within honda <3 that was funny as shit because a) you are demented, b) no, marc, everyone does not do that, and c) WHY are you admitting to this. I'm always a fan of some good old fashioned intra-team politicking but that one did throw even me the first time I watched it,,, like, giving actively inaccurate developmental feedback to fuck over your teammate would feel a bit much even for valentino lol. obviously I think this is fantastic and I fully support it

and on a similar note to him going 'well EVERYONE tries to sabotage their teammate' (again, marc, I'm pretty sure they don't all do it like that), the whole thing was interesting in terms of the kind of image marc was trying to project. now, apparently it's not quite accurate to say he called himself an asshole on track -

- but nevertheless, there's an interesting tension between kind of playfully leaning into the competitive dickhead persona while also wanting to come across like a chill, affable guy off the track (while also saying that there wasn't any difference between the two, which... hm). really leans into how image conscious he is, you can always kinda tell to what extent sepang 2015 also spooked him in that regard. trying to appear open while also needing to be as closed off as possible... wanting to seem normal while quite clearly being pretty weird. there's something really endearing/compelling about how hard he's trying... always enjoy seeing whenever he's a bit more ill at ease, more unsure of himself. his disappointment at nobody apart from aleix coming to visit him pre-surgery!! all those years of distancing himself from the whole grid - and yet at the end of the day those are still his people and he still wishes they cared... it's all those little contradictions, those internal conflicts and underlying tensions, that are fun to dig into with him. he can be as cold and calculating as he likes,, but when it comes down to it, he's also a little bit sad his childhood rival didn't wish him well

and for all my critiques, it's still my favourite motogp-related documentary by a fair margin, and it's one that I generally recommend to people looking to get into the sport. I don't have any problem with how much it was focused on marc's injury given the comeback story was very much the point of the entire project - just felt that at times it didn't really mesh comfortably with the bits that suddenly delved into his wider career. and yes, obviously there is something inherently revealing and pretty funny about the choice to juxtapose all the horrid injury stuff with the emotional wounds valentino dealt him. it's all about his fear of being misunderstood, right... for marc, this documentary represented the opportunity to set the record straight on some things, to tell the public what he thinks they need to know. which does make it notable that his major focal points are a) the public needing to know how awful the injury was, and b) pushing back against valentino's narrative about their feud. that's why some elements of the documentary feel so disconnected - because it's a work that's really just interested in the parts of marc's career he feels he has something to say about. hence no 2017-19! so. like. from the perspective of 'I wish this were a better documentary', I'd have quite a few notes for what to change - but from the perspective of 'what a funny little guy', it's a pretty strong work yeah

[ferrocyan]

i’d love to hear more about honey and yaana’s friendship :3 and any honeytart tidbits that come to mind hehe i love them

hello my friend you sure are asking the most. questions here ily okay first of all. um i dont know if theyre friends actually. while yaana is definitely the type to make friends w everyone in arcadia honey to me is the opposite. shes guarded herself w her nice cute idol facade and doesnt rly let ppl in for the sake of her work. like the fun thing that made me want to write the chatfic was that i thought the way honey chats is like. if you take a screencap out of context theres no way to make her sound bad. i just know she would be thinking of it that way www but like i cant imagine talking w someone like that is fun

tart got lucky w honey in that way bc in their match her mask already slipped off and then they met outside of the arena so she didnt bother covering for herself haha. and the way he thinks of ppls facades too is like, thats also the real them, yknow. the way ppl think honey is just being fake when shes nice, tart thinks like no she is genuinely that nice and cute. and also kind of an asshole haha (honey imagines beating him to a pulp like that kabru wanting to beat up laios panel wwww)

however it must be said. theyre so fucked. i dont know how the story is going to treat sphenes passing and i just. cannot stop thinking abt that post abt how honey b lovely constructed her fake queen persona to be a hated heel and then it blows up in her face bc the audience loves her, and then it blows up in her face again when the real queen died like a week before the honey b lovely comeback match, and then it blows up a third time when she catches feelings for this motherfucker. a bitch CANNOT catch a break. im like actually dying saying this i am so not strong enough to write this head on but what do you think was going on when tart is intoxicated on her venom and calls her your majesty. it has never been more joever im afraid theyre fucked beyond belief (...unless?)

this is probably psychological horror for honey but tbh its also rly funny to me im sorryy shes gotta be looking at tart like the best case scenario is this guys using her as a rly unhealthy coping mechanism. and the worst case scenario is when the government resumes working in a few days or so this man will be on the news for committing regicide and the robocops will be at her door. its so fucked. and yet i dont think she can resist the sirensong of "this person wants to be friends w me for real" so i dont think she would just. cut off contact w tart and never speak w him again. its not like she has m.any friends otherwise haha.. ha.

anyway though that becomes the impetus for honey to contact yaana like hey you might wanna reconsider partnering up w souleater. i think hes hiding something and he might be bad news (she doesnt like. have proof that tart killed the queen. its probably just her paranoia talking. but better safe than sorry right?? right???). yaana at first doesnt rly believe her, and then she does but decides she doesnt care if tart is hiding something from her. but what she does care about is that apparently miss queen bee gives a shit about people around her! who knew :3c she teases honey so hard abt this and thats how they become friends to me hahahah

okay but despite all that (gestures above) i still do have a couple honeytart things i wanna write about ehehe theyre not the most cooked ideas but i still wanna get them out >w<

[knifedancer]

Love At First Sight - Bonus (Sorta)

While writing LAFS I had one question that kept popping up in my mind: “Is Felix going to be Argos in this? Does he have the Peacock miraculous?” Ultimately, I decided it would make the story too long and complicated to add that tidbit in. This bonus is what I think would happen if Argos was involved in this plotline. It can be read by itself or in tandem, it's sorta related and unrelated at the same time. Enjoy!

You can find the original on AO3 at the following link: here!

Main Story

Silly Thoughts

*******

It had been about an hour since the akuma attack was resolved and Felix had confessed. He had not expected a reply nor a change in their dynamic to come from this…it just felt like the right time to finally tell her. It felt good to clearly state his feelings. Marinette, in her typical fashion, had stuttered and made excuses before hurriedly leaving. He had wanted to walk her home – since school was canceled for the rest of the day – but he held back the offer. Having known her for a while, he knew and could sense that her reaction was not borne from a dislike of him but rather of her own anxieties. If the emotions he sensed while she blushed and babbled were any indication, he dared hope that his feelings might actually have a chance to be returned… She just needed time to process, he would gladly give it to her. However, he still felt a need to check on her to be sure that she was safe. Today had been a traumatic experience after all, and he would be damned if Gabriel would take advantage of her lingering emotional state to akumatize her!

“Are we going to go check on your hen, Felix?” The peacock kwami giggled, flying about in a figure eight with excitement.

“We shall, just to be sure she’s alright. Duusu, spread my feathers!”

With a flash of blue, he stood transformed before his bedroom mirror. An unusual wave of nervousness came over him as he regarded his reflection. She had seen him dressed like this before, but he now felt worried what she would think of his miraculous suit. ‘She’s a designer…’ he thought to himself as he tugged at his hood and gloves as if trying to make himself more presentable. He felt like a bird attempting to preen their feathers in a way to attract a mate. He definitely blamed Duusu for this. He felt ridiculous. Taking one last look in the mirror as he attempted to smooth down the front, he steeled himself. ‘I’m just going to check on her. This isn’t a social call.’

He exited his bedroom window and ran along the rooftops. He paused when he came to the road in which she had been knocked over. Remembering the powerful desire to protect as her emotions went haywire – panic, fear, and concern – for him. It rolled off her like gentle waves in a low tide lagoon, gently plucking every heartstring in his chest. And the emotions of her new ‘admirer’ – unadulterated lust – had driven away his usual restraint against gross physical harm. The relief and amazement he felt from her after had been reward enough. But then he had had to carry her…his palms on her bare skin…he had felt his own emotions as high as hers in that moment!

Argos dragged a gloved hand down his reddened face at the memory before taking off again. Trying to clear his mind, he worked through the rest of the morning. After being shook free from the emotional overload in the classroom by her cry of pain, he immediately ran interference to delay the other idiots attempting to grab Marinette again. It was not much but Felix was sure it gave the two girls enough time to find a suitable place to hide. Then he sensed it… The terrifying fear and panic as she had huddled under that desk – so palpable that he could identify it even from down the hallway, like a thick miasma that threatened to choke him. Felix had known immediately who it was from. Marinette’s emotions, regardless of what she felt, were always tinged with a sweet aura all their own; almost like a pheromone that could only be felt rather than experienced by the traditional five senses. A sweetness that had drawn him in since that night at the Diamond Dance and led to his flimsy excuses to be included in their class, regardless of the danger he was putting himself in. Being exposed to it every day, his own affections had naturally grown for the girl…

However, in that moment, all he had wanted was to comfort her. He had lied about seeing Césaire leave the classroom, knowing the thought of Monarch being able to sense her emotions would have put her into a more destructive spiral. When Marinette had explained about the akuma and how she thought his own reaction was caused by it, his heart had thudded painfully in his chest. He had mentally cursed Gabriel; knowing his feelings were genuine but she would never believe his sincerity while this akuma was in play. At least he had an excuse to treat her as he truly wanted. Illogical as it was, this akuma attacking his crush suddenly felt personal and it left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Perhaps it was time to trade sides? Could he even be a hero? Ladybug seemed the understanding sort, but he had betrayed her before…would she trust him enough to let him work beside her again?

He would have to find a way, for Marinette.

“No wonder Duusu laughs at me… She’s not even mine and I’m already henpecked,” Argos mused quietly.

He landed on top of the scaffolding that wrapped around the scorched roof of Norte Dame and gazed down Rue Gotlib toward the bakery she called home. His heart flipped in his chest as he realized he could make out the barest hint of the fairy lights she had strung up on her balcony. He took a steadying breath, reminding himself that he was only there to pass by without being seen and prepared to leap to the next rooftop. Just then, a flash of familiar red appeared in his peripherals. He turned toward the north, seeing the hazy shape of Ladybug swinging in his direction.

Argos paused and decided this was likely the best time to make contact, to make his new objectives known to the hero – no akumas and without her timer running down. Perhaps without that mangey cat that always ruffled his feathers! Even when he held the Dog miraculous briefly, something about Chat Noir just did not sit right with Felix. Perhaps it was the blond hair? Was a side effect of the black cat miraculous the human equivalent of dander? He shook his head free of such thoughts. The purple suited villain shifted and leaped, taking a route further away from his original goal. Argos knew when he was spotted – the red figure stopped and took up a defensive stance – and slowed his approach to seem less threatening. He needed this to go well.

However, as he landed at the opposite end of the large rooftop, Argos paused and narrowed his eyes. This was not Ladybug!

“Who the hell are you? Where is Ladybug?” He pulled out his fan, holding it like a weapon at rest to not agitate the person in front of him but allowing him the easy access to fight should he need it. The red-spotted stand-in’s eyes flashed and narrowed – he wished the miraculous cloaking allowed him to clearly read her emotions. Instead, he could only glean what he could from her body language and the muted, muddled sensations that danced just out of reach.

“The name’s Scarabella. Let’s just say that the Lady was preoccupied,” she replied coolly.

“So it was your incompetence I should blame for all the time it took to defeat the akuma today,” he scoffed. Marinette had to suffer for hours while this… this…knock-off hero took the reins? What had Ladybug been thinking?!

Scarabella’s spine straightened with a snap, he didn’t need to see her eyes to know that the hazy emotion he was sensing was scorching anger. “Excuse me? This coming from a villain that betrayed us and all of Paris – scratch that, betrayed the world – and for what? So you could dress up like some reject popinjay to dance around on rooftops and make people disappear?”

Argos winced; this was not how he wanted this to go. He sighed and tucked his fan into his hood. “Look, when I saw someone else wearing the mantle…I reacted wrong. I assume you have some way to contact her? Or her kwami could? I need to speak with her.”

Suspicious eyes narrowed upon him, “What is the message?”

“I won’t say, I have no idea who you are or how close to all this you are. Just let her know that I mean no harm. She can even bring that damn cat, if she so pleases.” Argos’ lips pulled back into a snarl, not disguising his distaste for the other half of the Parisian hero team. “I just need to speak with her on a miraculous matter.”

Scarabella regarded him with narrowed eyes for a silent moment before her body shifted into a more relaxed posture, her arms crossing her chest as she leaned back on her heels. “Fine. I’ll let LB know. I can’t promise that she’ll meet you. She’s been far more cautious since your...incident.”

“Understood, I expected nothing less.” He placed a foot on the edge of the roof, turning his body back from whence he came while keeping his eyes on the temporary bug. A wicked grin split his face. “Oh, and don’t bother following me unless you want to chase after one of my creations tonight.”

He heard a scandalized noise as he launched himself from the roof. He had a fair maiden to check on.

~~~

It didn’t take Argos long to make it back to Rue Gotlib and settle in on a rooftop adjacent to the bakery, hiding himself in the long shadows cast by the dying light. Being especially cautious, he pulled his hood forward to hide his magenta eyes as he gazed into her bedroom window hoping for a glimpse of the young designer. She wandered into his field of view, he felt his heart dance around in his chest – Marinette’s hair was down, her face washed clean of the little makeup she normally wore, and she took up lounging on her chaise as she sketched in her pajamas. She was stunning! He reached out with his senses and immediately met her emotions – the sweet aura wrapping around his consciousness like a blanket and the peacock holder involuntarily smiled. “I’m really a goner, aren’t I, Duusu?” He whispered to himself, knowing the kwami would find this hilarious later.

He watched as she flexed her toes, bobbing her head to a tune he couldn’t hear from his vantage point, her lips mouthing words he wished he could hear. Argos probed a bit further with his powers to gauge her emotional state: peace, joy, calm, with a hint of nervousness. His smile turned fond. ‘That’s my girl, never letting a thing weigh her down for long…’

Argos heard the familiar sound of a yo-yo and he pressed himself further into his shadow as he looked around for the source. Suddenly Scarabella appeared flipping over the back of the roof and landed onto Marinette’s balcony. He felt the bluenette’s curiosity followed by her happiness as she bounced up and shut her curtains. He narrowed his eyes, watching the spotted stand-in duck through a trapdoor and into the confines of Marinette’s bedroom, then observed a pink flash filter through the opaque material of the curtains.

‘Do Scarabella and Marinette know each other?’ he wondered, filtering through the emotions flowing from the building for any threat. He watched with confusion as the side door of the bakery apartment opened silently and Césaire exited, looking both ways before running down a neighboring alleyway. ‘Was she…Scarabella? What does Marinette have to do with this?’ A sinking sensation formed in his stomach.

He ran down a few rooftops before crossing the street and circling back to the balcony from behind, keeping himself hidden. Argos listened and watched as the bluenette came up to the balcony to watch the waning sunset turn to dusk, murmuring quietly to herself or perhaps on the phone? The blond felt as if there was a riddle here that he needed an answer to… Bracing himself, he leaped one last time and landed on the balcony behind Marinette – who jumped and spun around to face him. “Argos?!” He felt a wave of worry and nervousness overcome the girl; her body shook from the sheer force of the panic that was rising.

Mentally cursing himself for ruining the calm she had finally achieved and unsure of how to proceed, he made a flamboyant bow. “Evening, Marinette! I thought I heard a bug buzzing about and found you instead… mind if I rest my feathers upon your lovely roost?”

Confusion.

Worry.

Nervousness.

Paranoia.

…and, beneath all that, a hint of something warmer.

Argos straightened with a smile he hoped was disarming – Adrien was always much better at putting people at ease than Felix – and observed her. ‘No phone. Then who was she talking to?’ His magenta eyes flickered over the rooftop with interest, pretending to assess the decorations in the space while he looked for any pets or god-like beings…he found none. “Beautiful space you have here. Very cozy.” Keeping his posture relaxed, he stepped closer to the bluenette by the balcony rail.

“Oh, heh, thank you. I like to come up here to design and relax, you know?” He watched as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, exposing her earlobes. Earlobes that sported familiar dark colored earrings.

His mind flashed back to this morning with a more discerning eye. He remembered pulling the silky threads of her hair back into a braid, exposing the nape of her neck and ears…. which were conspicuously free of earrings, and he froze for a moment as his eyes widened slightly. Puzzle pieces started to click into place in his mind. ‘No…it couldn’t be…’

Clearing his throat, he smiled and motioned towards her ears. “Pretty earrings, are they a family heirloom?” A fresh spike of panic lanced into him so quickly that he physically winced. That was confirmation enough. His heart sank as he recalled what he had done to the heroine…who he now knew was his beloved. He, Felix Fathom, was the cause of her grief and suffering. He had betrayed the one person he treasured most. ‘Duusu, what have I done?’ The guilt, which rose like bile in his throat, solidified his decision.

“Ye-yes, how’d you know?” Marinette’s voice was jittery and nervous. He’d play along for now as he processed this information.

“Just a guess. You never take them off.” He replied, leaving the except for earlier today to himself. Argos felt her panic ebb with a thin thread of relief. “Honestly, I came here to check on you after the akuma today…” he spoke softly as he looked towards the horizon. Curiosity. Relief. The hint of warmth was back too.

“O-oh… Fel—ah, Argos, you didn’t need to do that. I appreciate your concern though…” He didn’t need to read her emotions to know that she was embarrassed and blushing. His cheeks felt a bit warm too.

“As you know, you mean a lot to me.” Argos turned towards her again, their eyes meeting silently. His voice dropped to a whisper and he reached up to cup her cheek, basking in the warmth of her skin through the magical material. “I wanted – no, needed – to talk to you. After what happened today, I realized I could no longer stand on the sidelines… My priorities and goals have changed. I can no longer play the villain while those I care the most about are caught in the crossfire...”

“What…what are you saying?” Surprise, shock, and hope edged out the lingering nervousness.

Argos’ magenta eyes glowed as he smirked, “I’m saying that I’m on your side, my Lady.”

Marinette’s eyes grew wide, her conflicting emotions ran the gambit so quickly that he struggled to pick up even one in the tidal wave of input as it crashed over him. However, what he did pick up gave him hope: relief and, trailing behind the wave, a hint of pure joy. From the edges of his vision a little red kwami peeked out of a nearby flower planter, impossibly big eyes filled with hope. Felix dropped his transformation and leaned in close, never letting his eyes leave her bluebells as the smirk grew into a teasing smile.

“Does this mean I can have that kiss now?”

[ticklystuff]

You’re the Only Pun for Me

a/n: cyno is so hard for me to write, but i hope this turned out okay

characters: lee!cyno, ler!tighnari

word count: ~2.7k

summary: cyno might have some competition when it comes to puns

---

"Would the two of you like to try some?"

Tighnari peered into the wooden box that Albedo had been presented before him. Inside the container looked to be little pink blobs dusted with some kind of white powder, unrecognizable in both shape and form. Their trip to Monstadt had presented him with many different kinds of food, but Tighnari couldn't recall this particular one being featured in any store yet. He turned his head to take a quick look at Cyno seated beside him, catching the hesitant expression on his face that matched his own.  "Sakura mochi," Albedo acknowledged the inquisitive looks the two gave each other. "They're a dessert that I picked up from Inazuma during my trip as 'Calyx'. I enjoy them, but Klee is not a fan of the texture, so I have extra to share." "Ah, I think I've heard of them," Tighnari's voice rose at the familiar name, watching as Cyno slowly poked a finger at one of the desserts, leaving a tiny dent in its squishy form. "They're desserts made from rice, correct? I don't think we have anything similar in Sumeru." "I think I agree with Klee on the texture part," Cyno said as he retracted his hand, patting his hand to rid himself of the white powder. "They're certainly not for everyone," Albedo mused, "but I figured they'd make a nice picnic snack." "Well, don't mind if I do then," Tighnari said with a shrug, setting his half-eaten sandwich on their picnic blankets to pluck the squishy blob with his fingers. He nearly brought the snack to his mouth, only to catch Cyno watching him with repulse written all over his face. Sighing, Tighnari grabbed at Cyno's wrist, placing the mochi in his open palm. "Let's be nice to our host." Cyno scowled at him, looking between Tighnari and the pink blob in his hand. "But-" "Don't be a baby about it," chided Tighnari, picking up a second mochi for himself, listening to Cyno grumble to himself and Albedo giggle over their little exchange. Tighnari brought the mochi to his nose, inspecting it with a quick sniff, before biting off a piece of the blob and giving himself a moment to chew. The texture was certainly off-putting at first, but after a few bites, the soft squishiness had grown on him. Flavor wise, the dessert was nearly tasteless, save for the hints of floral sweetness, but it was a nice subtle taste that Tighnari thoroughly enjoyed. Cyno, on the other hand, made it very clear he was not enjoying the dessert, judging by the visible disgust displayed on his face. Tighnari rolled his eyes and offered his hand to the other, which Cyno promptly placed the remaining mochi into, observing with disdain as Tighnari happily finished his piece off. "Well, I'd ask for your verdict, but I feel like I have a good idea just from watching," Albedo commented with a chuckle. "I like it!" Tighnari said with an affirmative nod, a contrast to the way Cyno shook his head. "Do you know how they make it there?" "Hmm, I did see a woman making some, but it was quite a while ago," Albedo recalled. "All I remember was that she was pounding glutinous rice over and over." Tighnari frowned at the tidbit of information presented to him. "Ugh, already sounds like a lot of work." "Perhaps there's a way to automate it," Cyno spoke up, pausing as he folded his arms in thought, before looking up at Tighnari. There was a familiar glint in his eye, one that Tighnari recognized immediately as a forewarning for what was currently running through Cyno's mind. "Cyno, don't-" "With a little mochivation-" "Stop!" "And some imochination-" "CYNO!" Cyno looked Tighnari straight in the eyes, smirking before finishing, "I'm sure we can figure out a mochinism for such a device." Tighnari sighed to himself, putting his hand over his face out of embarrassment. Albedo clapped alongside the two of them, clearly amused by Cyno's antics. As much as Tighnari enjoyed Albedo's presence, Cyno was slowly rubbing off on the alchemist in all the wrong ways and he feared for what the rest of Monstadt might have to deal with when the two would have to leave. "That was quite impressive," Albedo nodded amusedly. "I thank you." Cyno shot a quick glance at Tighnari, before looking back at Albedo. "I'm glad someone appreciates my attempts at humor." Albedo looked at Tighnari, puttin his hand on his chin in thought. "Hmm, Tighnari, you're a forest ranger, correct?" "Yes, why?" Tighnari asked with a tilt of his head, only to inwardly groan at the sight of a smirk crossing Albedo's face that resembled Cyno's own. He grabbed at the tips of his ears and pulled them down flat, bracing himself for the worst. "Perhaps you'd be more fauna puns related to your interests?" Albedo spoke in his usual tone, looking directly at Tighnari. "I'm sure there are some you won't find too deflorable." Tighnari blinked up at Albedo as those last few puns made their way to his covered ears and he took a moment to process them. There was something different about them that was distinct from Cyno's jokes, something... enjoyable? Feelings of confusion and amusement mixed inside of him, folding over each other in a way that sent conflicting signals to his brain. Was he actually enjoying bad puns for once? "Those were actually.. quite good," he finally spoke, a small smile crossing his face that grew larger by the moment, nearly breaking out into a fit of giggles as he turned to face Cyno, gripping at his shoulder and shaking him. "You get it, right?! Fauna and flora? Like, he's referring to the animal and plant ecosystems!" Cyno's eyes darted from Tighnari to Albedo and back to Tighnari, seemingly in disbelief by the display in front of him. "Y-You liked his jokes?" Cyno managed to mutter out and Tighnari nodded in response. "Yeah, Albedo's a natural!" Tighnari exclaimed, making the alchemist look away with a blush. "Those were really good! Cyno, you should learn from him." Cyno looked like he had something to say, but shut his mouth, giving Tighnari a blank expression instead.  "Don't be too hard on him," Albedo said in earnest. "I have much to learn from Cyno, as I'm still quite the novice and have mushroom for improvement." "MUSHROOM?!" Tighnari scooted closer to Albedo, finding himself completely enamored with the alchemist. "Please, do more!" Albedo smiled with a nod and looked off in the distance. "Alright, I'm not an expert by any means, but those recent ones have given me some insporeation.." --- Something was off... It hadn't initially caught Tighnari's attention, but between Cyno's short responses to Tighnari's attempts at conversation, to the way he would consistently avoid eye contact, and the fact that he continuously kept two paces ahead of Tighnari instead of walking beside him like he usually did, all seemed to point to some present underlying issue that Tighnari couldn't quite place his finger on. The strange behaviors had begun after their picnic with Albedo, but Tighnari had always just chalked it up to Cyno being winded from the initial hike, which would be a strange explanation when Tighnari thought about it because Cyno often made long trips through the desert. There was also something else that was off about Cyno today, almost like he was missing something... "Hey, you haven't made any jokes all day," Tighnari spoke his thoughts out loud when he realized what was really bothering him, prompting Cyno to stop ahead of him and turn around. 

"Is everything alright with you?" Granted, it was still early in the day, but that never stopped Cyno before. "I'm fine," Cyno replied shortly, before turning on his heel and marching forward. His stoic expression would usually come off as normal to people that knew Cyno, but he was definitely using it to hide something this time. The two continued their trek forward till they reached Windrise, per Albedo's suggestion. He recommended the two come early, as the place could be busy during Windblume and earliest was when the wind was most refreshing, according to Albedo at least. Initially, Cyno seemed reluctant on going, but Tighnari persisted and the general finally caved. At first glance, there wasn't much to do, so Tighnari took it upon himself to plop down on the field, feeling the soft grass against his skin and the gentle breeze brush past his face. "It's so peaceful here," Tighnari sighed contently, sitting up when Cyno took his spot next to him. "You would never be able to do something like this back in the rainforest. I'm so glad Albedo recommended this spot to us."

No response. "Oh, speaking of Albedo, he mentioned that he can send me plants from Monstadt for me to study," Tighnari attempted at creating conversation, but was only met with a disinterested shrug. Sighing to himself, Tighnari thought to drop the conversation, until an idea sprung to mind. "Albedo said we're like plant friends, or fronds, if you will," he winked with a nudge of his elbow to Cyno's arm. "Can we please change the subject?" There was a sense of emptiness to his voice that caught Tighnari off-guard and he promptly turned away, staring straight ahead. He wasn't opposed to just enjoying the silence, but he couldn't just let Cyno be like this. His mind ran through the events of the past twenty-four hours, combing for anything that he might've said that could potentially have offended Cyno, but nothing stood out to him. It all started after their picnic with Albedo- oh. The dots in his head finally connected.

But how should he go about this particular issue? Cyno was not known to be the most open when it came to talking about issues, choosing to keep them all in his little head, and Tighnari more often than not would have to constantly press him to speak his mind, but with how Cyno shut him down earlier, asking might be more trouble than it was worth. His brain ran through all the possible attempts at addressing the matter at hand, but all routes ended in roadblocks. It wasn't till he side-eyed Cyno, however, that the most unconventional idea sprung to mind.. Well, it was worth a shot.

"Hey-! W-What are you doing?!" Tighnari wasn't the only one caught up in Monstadt's breathtaking views and he used Cyno's inattentiveness to his advantage, easily straddling the other's waist and pinning him to the grass.

"Changing the subject, just like you asked," Tighnari spoke with impudence, smirking to himself from the eyeroll Cyno gave him. "Is everything alright?"

Tighnari watched as Cyno gave himself a brief moment to visibly think, before shaking his head. "It's really not a big deal."

"So that means there is something," Tighnari pressed further. "You're not jealous of me befriending Albedo, are you?"

"Wait, what?" Cyno looked up at him in disbelief. "Wait, Tighnari, that's not- Wahahait! NohoHOHOho!"

Most people that only knew of Cyno through his work often did not get to experience the more laid-back nature he took on when around Tighnari and Collei. Jokes and bad puns were aplenty and Tighnari had no qualms using whatever method he could to put a stop to them. Tickling was the most common solution as the simple lift of his hands was usually enough to stop Cyno dead in his tracks before he was able to utter a single pun. This meant, of course, that Tighnari naturally knew just how to make Cyno shriek...

"AHAHAHAHA! NAHAHARIHIHI! NOHOHO!"

Tighnari smirked to himself as Cyno's laughter echoed through the air, breaking the silence of the windswept plains. His underarms were easily Cyno's worst spot, which was handy for when the two shared their bed, as Tighnari had easy access whenever Cyno felt like slipping in one last bad joke for the night. It was the perfect spot too, as Cyno liked to clamp his arms down to protect himself, effectively trapping Tighnari's hands in the process, just like right now.

"NAHAHARIHIHI! LEHEHET ME EXPLAHAHAHAIN!"

"Oh? So now you want to talk?" Tighnari giggled to himself as he watched Cyno's lower arms uselessly wiggle about in attempt to defend himself, while the upper parts trapped Tighnari's hands to his underarms. Cyno himself wasn't much of a squirmer, so it was always amusing to watch his arms actively move, while the rest of his body just laid completely flat, save for the way he threw his head back in hysterics.

"PLEHEHEHAHEASE! YOU'VE GOHOHOT IT WROHOHONG!"

It took Tighnari a moment to realize what Cyno was saying through his laughter, only stopping when the other repeated himself over and over. He tilted his head in confusion, allowing Cyno a break, but keeping his hand where they were. "Alright then, care to explain?"

"I-It's nohohot Albehedoho," Cyno managed through an after-shock of giggles, still tense with Tighnari's fingers so close. "It's just, I don't know, it's nonsensical really- WaIT! STAHAHAHAP! OKAHAHAY! I'LL TAHAHALK!"

"Yeah, you better," Tighnari huffed, kneading his thumbs into Cyno's underarms for just that extra push.

"Okay, okahahay," Cyno giggled, finally grabbing at Tighnari's arms to get him to stop. "I-It's not Albedo necessarily," he began, turning his head as a tint of pink crept across his cheeks, "but you've never laughed at my jokes before."

"Wait, that's it?" Tighnari tilted his head in disbelief and scoffed. "I thought you might've hated Albedo or something."

"No, see, I told you it was silly," Cyno sighed embarrassedly, avoiding eye contact with Tighnari.

Tighnari sighed and shook his head, knowing full well he should've expected something like this. "Cyno, no, it's not like I hate your jokes or anything. It's just," Tighnari paused to put his thoughts together, "I'm just so used to them by now. I don't know how to describe it, but I guess I just wasn't expecting Albedo to make puns too and I was just caught in the moment. Does that make sense? I enjoy yours too; I really do."

He peered down at Cyno, expecting some kind of response, but was only met with a shaky nod, an unconvincing one at that. The two sat in silence as Tighnari thought of something, anything, that he could possibly say to Cyno to make him feel better in the moment. There was something that Tighnari knew Cyno would personally enjoy, but it was one he really did not want to go through with.

"Ugh, screw it," he muttered under his breath. If it'd make Cyno happy..

"Did you say something?" Cyno looked up to ask, but Tighnari ignored him as he scooted back just a little bit so that Cyno's ankle was within reach.

"Cyno, I'm putting my foot down," he forced himself to say, wrapping his hand around one of Cyno's ankles and letting his fingers trail up his sole, tightening his grip when Cyno suddenly started to jerk his leg back.

"I-I don't understahahand," came Cyno's confused giggles, but Tighnari simply turned back around, reaching for Cyno's ribs this time.

"I was only ribbing you the other day."

"Pffft-! AhahaHAHAhaha!" Cyno snorted and collapsed into a new fit of giggles, as Tighnari's thumbs kneaded their way into the undersides of his ribs, moving in sync as his fingers trailed through each one. "Nahaharihihi! You're scaring mehehehe!"

"Your puns are never a waist," Tighnari's voice shook with each pun, but he pushed forward, grabbing at the hip bones of Cyno's waist and circling his fingers around the designated area, eliciting a breathy squeal from the other.

"Ehehehahaha! Nari, stahahahap!"

"I'm sure everyone that nose would agree," Tighnari finally finished, much to his relief. He removed his hands from Cyno's waist, before bending forward to plant a quick kiss atop Cyno's button nose. "There, happy?" he looked away as a blush spread through his cheeks, embarrassed at what he just put himself through.

"Ugh, those were so bad, even for me," Cyno giggled reassuringly, sitting up to return the nose kiss that Tighnari had just given him.

"I guess I only learned from the best," Tighnari sighed tiredly, "but I hope you at least appreciated them."

"Well, they certainly tickled my fancy- WAIT, TihiHIHighnahari! Okahahahy! No more puhuhuHUHUNS! I'M SOHOHOHORRY!"