#this turned into a ramble oops

[sunriseverse]

sorry this is not a writing q but it's honestly so fun to see your fanfic vent posts!! i just finished reading this extremely popular fic that ppl have made multiple artworks for, and the writing is mid ... (admittedly i am very picky) like too many italics too much telling and redundancy etc. like yes fanfic is a labour of love etc and i'm never going to be a hater where the author could see but goddd. this is made more infuriating by the recent posts about ppl only looking for fic through kudos/hits like you guys are missing out on so much good fic!!

anyway i want to make an edit of the sometimes things that are expensive are worse meme except it's sometimes fics that have more kudos are worse. except it feels too mean lol

if you can count on one thing it’s me not holding back my haterism :salute:

anyway, that’s part of why i do it! for so long i was someone who let my thoughts simmer away and fester beneath my ribs, and all it did was make me frustrated and lonely and miserable. i can fully admit that my tastes are very very picky in comparison to other peoples’, but it stems from a frustration towards the trends that have been around for ages—why should i force myself to praise something that i find to be, at best, middling, and at worst, straight up bad? who does that serve? fandom shouldn’t be a place where a single opinion dominates—that’s a recipe for some very, very unhealthy dynamics. i would much rather enjoy what i enjoy and complain about what i don’t—as long as i’m not directing these complaints in a space where the authors (or fans) are guaranteed to see it (their comments section, their inbox, etc), i’m not only not hurting anyone, i’m acting in a way i wish i had seen more people act when i was younger. and anything that i feel is “too mean” to post on my blog goes into my friends’ dms—truly, nothing is more freeing than having someone let you be a right bastard.

as for the kudos/hits thing—it frankly feels like an annoying outgrowth of people trying to categorise fanfic the way tv shows are; if it doesn’t get above x ratings, no one wants to watch it, because it’s no good! except that’s not true—the only thing hits and kudos tell you is 1. how well connected the author is in the fandom, and how well they cater to popular tastes, and 2. how many times people click onto the work, for any reason, which, when it comes to massive multi chapter fics that are heralded as The Fandom Standard, can be massively overblown. in the end, you’ll be happier reading things that speak to you (via tag, summary, title, friendly recommendation, etc) than following the opinions of the fandom.

(i could go on a whole ramble about why i think so much fanfic (or at least, POPULAR fanfic) is badly written (in terms of characterisation especially) but i think that would be hitting a hornet’s nest with a bat and inviting people to go “well how come YOUR opinion is the right one???” lol)

[cjlouwho]

prompt: something where buck and tommy argue over gerrard. like, buck doesn't know how tommy could have been so passive, and tommy's like way over that version of himself or something. I know a lot of people don't want that to happen in the show, and I get it, but I'd like a fic version!

“I have never, in all my life, dealt with someone so- so... so evil!” Buck was pacing back and forth in Tommy's living room, just as he'd been for the last half hour since he arrived.

“Really, Evan? Never?”

“You don't understand, Tommy. Gerrard is, it's like he's targeting me, but not in a bad way.”

“There's a good way to be targeted?” Tommy asked from his spot on the couch.

Buck sighed, placing his hands on his hips. “It's like he- he wants us to be buddies, ya know? He thinks I'll be his puppy or something. H- He's treating everyone else like garbage except for me and it makes me feel really weird. He took me golfing, Tommy. Golfing.”

“You fit his ideal firefighter, Babe. He needs minions, he's gonna latch onto you.”

“What do you mean his ideal firefighter? What even is that?”

“White, strong, straight,” Tommy replied simply.

Buck raised an eyebrow. “What we did yesterday morning was very not straight.”

“Yeah, but does he know that?”

“Does he know what we did yesterday morning?”

Tommy tilted his head. “Evan.”

Finally, Buck plopped down on the couch, staring toward the blank TV. “I figured he knew after we went to the medal ceremony together.”

“It's not like we made out in front of the crowd. For all he knows, we're friends.”

Buck was silent for a moment. “I've never really talked about my personal life with him,” he admitted. “Didn't really want to. N- Not because I'm ashamed or anything,” he added quickly, looking at Tommy with wide eyes. “I'm not. I promise, I- I'm not ashamed.”

“I know, Evan.” Tommy reached over and gave Buck's hand a squeeze. “You're a very good ally.”

He glared at Tommy. “I'll never live that down, will I?”

“Nope.”

Buck grew quiet again, and Tommy was beginning to think the conversation was over.

Then Buck, barely above a whisper, said, “I don't want him to think we're just friends.”

“It's fine if he does,” Tommy replied. “I don't mind. Probably best that way, honestly.”

Buck's eyebrows furrowed. He turned more toward Tommy, his back leaning against the armrest. “What do you mean?”

Tommy contemplated his words before speaking. “Listen, I'm not telling you to be buddy-buddy with the guy. I definitely do not recommend that. I'm also not saying to turn a blind eye to all the crap he pulls. But, why make it harder on yourself?”

“Because it's living a lie, Tommy.”

“It's not lying if you just don't mention it.”

Buck huffed out a breath. “You want me to hide who I am? I distinctly remember that being the reason our first date ended so abruptly.”

Tommy let out a deep breath. “I'm not saying to hide, Evan. And that's not exactly the reason our date ended, you know that. I'm saying if there's been no reason to bring it up so far, why bring it up now? What he thinks about you doesn't matter.”

“It matters to me.”

Tommy squeezed his eyes shut, trying to rid himself of the growing frustration. “So, what? You wanna walk into Gerrard's office and say 'Hey, I'm bisexual by the way. Also, I'm dating that Tommy guy you worked with years ago. You know, the one you made fun of when you saw him at the medal ceremony?' You really think that's the best thing to do?”

“It's better than being his puppet like y-” Buck cut himself off abruptly.

“Like me?” Tommy finished. “That's what you were gonna say, isn't it?”

“Tommy, I-”

“It's true,” he continued with a shrug. “I was his puppet. I did whatever he wanted me to do and I didn't question it. Even after he was going to let me die in that explosion, I still stuck by his side. I don't deny that part of my life, Evan.”

“I wasn't trying t-”

“You know I apologized for all of that well over a decade ago, right? I feel like I remember us talking about that.”

“W- We did.”

“And I would never want or expect you to be who I was. You know that?”

“I know, Tommy, I-”

“And I'd never ask you to hide yourself, because I did that too and-”

“If you'd let me finish a damn sentence,” Buck snapped.

Tommy stopped, stared at Buck with pursed lips. A silent go ahead.

“I don't- I didn't. I... Ugh, Tommy!”

A pause, then. “That's what you needed to let out?”

“God, you're being so annoying right now!” Buck could feel his body getting hot.

“No, I'm trying to stop you from getting needlessly harassed at work.”

“By essentially cutting off a part of myself every time I'm there!”

“Evan, if your sexuality hasn't come up by now I don't see a reason why it ever would! It's not cutting off a part of yourself, it's just existing!”

“But I- I'm getting special treatment because he doesn't think that part exists,” Buck tried to explain. “I don't want to be his right hand man, Tommy. That might've worked for you but it doesn't work for me.” The words came out harsher than he intended. He knew it was a low blow to bring up something from so long ago, something long dead and buried. But Tommy had made him upset, and he needed to make Tommy upset too.

Except Tommy didn't get upset. He got quiet.

Somehow, that was worse.

A tension so thick you could cut it with a knife filled the air.

After what felt like an eternity, Tommy stood, letting out a sigh. “I'll be back,” he said, beginning to walk out of the living room.

“What- Where are you going?” Buck nearly shot out of his seat. “Are you leaving?”

Tommy turned back to him. “First of all, my house,” he said, motioning around the room. “Second, I'm going into the kitchen to get a drink.”

“Well, I- do you want me to leave?”

“I didn't say that, Evan. I mean, I'm not gonna block the exit if you wanna go, but I prefer to finish the arguments I get involved in.”

Buck sat back down. “Then I'm staying.”

“Good. You want water or something?”

Buck folded his arms over his chest. “With ice.”

“Okay.”

A couple of minutes later, Tommy returned with two cups of water in his hand. He held Buck's out to him, Buck taking it with a low, “Thank you.”

“Mhm.” They both took a few sips, then Buck stared down at the ice in his cup until Tommy started talking again. “You're not wrong,” he said. “Being his right hand man did work for me for a long time. It's not something I'm proud of, and I don't make excuses for it, but I also don't really appreciate it being thrown up in my face.”

Buck set his glass on the coffee table. “That wasn't fair of me, I- I know that. I was just angry. I'm sorry.”

“I probably should have tried explaining myself a bit better,” Tommy replied. “I'm sorry too.” He set his own cup down, then held his arm out toward Buck. “Will you come here?”

Buck didn't hesitate to move into Tommy's space. He curled up next to him, resting his head on Tommy's chest while Tommy wrapped him in his arms. “I can't help wanting to protect you, Evan,” Tommy said, pressing a kiss to Buck's head. “I know you don't need it, and I know it's selfish, but the idea of you getting harassed by that man for any reason, it- it scares me. I have,” he let out a humorless laugh, “I have never been as brave as you. I still feel nauseous every time I see the guy. But I never want you to feel like I want you to hide yourself, or that I want you to be like me. That's not what I meant.”

Buck ran his hand slowly up and down Tommy's chest. “I know. I- I get it. I've never dealt with a Gerrard before, not directly. Didn't think I'd ever have to.”

Tommy hummed. He ran his fingers through Buck's hair. “I will back whatever decision you make,” he assured him. “Whether you tell him or you don't, I am right beside you. I never want you to think I'm not.”

Buck propped himself up enough to be able to look at Tommy. “I know you are,” he replied, bringing a hand to Tommy's face. He stroked his thumb along Tommy's cheek, then leaned up for a kiss. “That's why I love you.”

Tommy sucked in a breath. His heart began to race. They'd never said those words before. Honestly, Tommy had stopped himself a few times, figuring it was way too soon.

But, as always, Evan burst through every door Tommy had locked up in his mind.

“I love you too, Evan,” he replied, and he hoped Evan could feel just how much he meant those words.

But, in case he couldn't, Tommy pulled him in for another, deeper kiss. Holding him close and tight while he wished they could stay right here in this moment for the rest of their lives.

When they finally separated for some air, Buck sat up straighter. “I'm going to tell him,” he said without an ounce of fear or hesitation. “Maybe not the way you suggested, but I... I want him to know I'm yours, and your mine, and screw whatever he has to say about it.”

And God, if Tommy thought he couldn't love this man anymore than he already did, there went Evan proving him wrong.

He nodded. “Okay.” He brought Buck's hand to his lips, pressed a kiss against his knuckles. “I'm with you. I love you.”

Buck smiled, wrapping himself up in Tommy once again. “I love you more.”

[buckevantommy]

Bucktommy Fixit where they reconnect next year and become friends - albeit ones who mostly converse via text and only really see each other on calls or running into each other at a bar etc. They don’t actually make plans to hang out, they just keep in touch. But keeping in touch turns into daily text conversations about anything and everything which turns into post-shift phonecalls at least once a week.

Meanwhile: Buck is casually dating, maybe more than one person, because he’s not looking to settle down right now he’s just looking to have some fun and meet some interesting people. But he starts dating one guy a little more seriously, to the point he stops dating others.

Also: Tommy’s been seeing a therapist. And doing art therapy. And trying his damndest not to turn into a sad lonely old man. It was a new year’s resolution kind of thing. He’d dated casually but soon realised it was better to just meet his base needs and focus on platonic relationships - like new friends and old friends, acquaintances and coworkers, and what little family he still talks to. 

Someone asks how Buck’s new boyfriend feels about Buck texting his ex-boyfriend so much (and Buck has mixed feelings about all of that: having an ex-boyfriend and a second boyfriend makes him giddy and conflicted all at once). He starts to wonder if he shouldn’t be texting Tommy so much now that he’s dating someone properly. But he doesn’t get the same want to text his boyfriend about his work day or random things in his life, and when they do text it’s brief and he doesn’t respond to Buck’s rambling trains of thought the same way Tommy does. He thinks it’s fine. Not everyone is a texter. And Tommy is his friend and people text their friends all the time while dating or being married.

But it’s different when it’s an ex. And Buck hasn’t told his current boyfriend that the friend he’s always texting with is an ex. Not that current boyfriend is aware of how much they’re texting or how often they talk on the phone. And current boyfriend knows Buck’s ex is called Tommy. And Buck always just says ‘a friend’ whenever current boyfriend asks who pinged him. Never ‘just’ a friend; Tommy will never be that for Buck, despite everything.

Things come to a head late one night after/during a rough shift or after a fight with Buck’s current boyfriend. Buck calls Tommy and vents because Tommy always lets him vent and always listens to what he has to say, and then he broaches what they haven’t discussed since reconnecting months ago: does Tommy ever think about where they’d be right now if they were still together?Buck has taken responsibility for his part in moving too fast, but he wants to know more about Tommy’s headspace now compared to when things ended between them. It’s curiousity in that ‘what if’ sense, but he also wants to know how Tommy is really doing, if he’s opening himself up to people, letting himself be happy, be loved.

There’d been a closure type of conversation not long after they reconnected, with Tommy apologizing and being sincerely happy for Buck and mentioning how he’s been working on himself a lot in the time since. And buck was happy for him but Tommy held back on details about what exactly he was doing and what that meant for him and his future relationships. He wanted Tommy to want to tell him, so he didn’t pry, but he liked the idea of being a friend Tommy could be open and honest with.

“Evan..”

Tommy knows he hates when he calls him ‘Buck’, but he never actually switched back to ‘Evan’, instead just kind of omitted saying his name altogether. Buck wonders what he’s listed as on Tommy’s phone. On Buck’s phone Tommy is ‘TK’, and he’s told more than one white lie to more than one nosey person that it was a firefighter friend from Texas - gay but happily married. He does keep in touch with T.K., but there’s periods between his letters on Buck’s contact list.

Tommy already said he’s sorry. He’s already told Buck it wasn’t his fault, that he would’ve ended things eventually even if they took their time with every step and that’s on him, it’s his issues and his life, not Buck’s.

“I can’t think about that.”

“I think about it all the time.”

Buck has a boyfriend and he’s happy, but he thinks about his ex-boyfriend slash current friend and what they could’ve looked like today if Buck had found a way to make Tommy believe he wanted all of him. He tells himself it’s to know himself better, to be better prepared and try harder next time. But he’s kidding himself if he says it’s not because he still has feelings for Tommy.

“You have a boyfriend.”

“Yeah.”

“I just want you to be happy.”

And.. he is. He is happy with current boyfriend. But he was happy with Tommy. And he can’t help wondering if he was happier with Tommy than he is right now, or if Tommy was right and his excitement and wonder about being in a queer relationship got muddled up with how he felt about Tommy. He still doesn’t know. He wishes he knew. 

“I was happy with you.” Tommy sighs over the line but Buck doens’t let him cut things off. “I know you think it was puppy love, and that I didn’t know you well enough, but.” But. He knows Tommy better now. Tommy has opened up to him as a friend, sharing personal details about himself and his past - not everything Buck wants to know and he never could bring himself to ask, but he’s learned things about Tommy in these past few months that he wishes he’d known when they were dating. And he wants to know more. He wants to know it all. 

“But?”

“Sometimes, it works backwards.” Sometimes you get to know someone and fall for them, and then you learn dark things about their past or get a better look at their emotional baggage or they go through a rough time. And some people break up because it’s too much or not what they wanted. But some people simply care more, and become stronger together for it. Buck wanted the chance to know Tommy better, to be there with him through the bad times. He never got to find out how things would’ve gone but he thinks he knows his own heart well enough to know he wouldn’t have abandoned or rejected or hated or been fed up with Tommy because he has a past or he’s imperfect or life threw some crap at him.

Buck knows people are more than they seem. He wants to see them for everything they are, to be trusted with that, the same way he wants to be seen in return and wanted anyway.

“What does?”

“Love.”

Sometimes, you love someone more after you learn the bad stuff - or what they think is bad - not less.

Buck breathes in as Tommy remains quiet.

“I didn’t have to know all of you to love you, Tommy. And whatever you think about how I would’ve reacted to the things you didn’t share with me, you’re wrong. I know I would’ve loved you anyway. And not out of pity, or some misguided infatuation, but because knowing you better means getting to love more of you, it means loving you better.”

Tommy doesn’t respond, and when there’s a bleep from Buck’s phone he thinks Tommy hung up - except he didn’t: it’s a facetime request. They’ve done this a few times before but only for something on a call or because it was easier for Buck to show Tommy what he was talking about in realtime rather than try to send through photos and videos.

Tommy fills his screen looking soft around the edges, hair and clothes and face bed-rumpled. His face is drawn into something that threatens to break Buck’s heart again; it beats in aching memory and yearns in equal measure. You’re good, he wants to say, you don’t deserve what you put on yourself.

“Tommy..”

[powdermelonkeg]

Thoughts on the thunder wizard again.

Genuinely, I find Gale's relationship with Mystra to be fascinating when you consider all its facets. Unhealthy, imbalanced, definitely poisonous, but also very, very intricate with a lot of blurred edges to it. One of those things where you're both like "wow, what the hell, that's horrible" but also "that makes perfect sense for their characters, and while I would NEVER, I know why they would, and why it happened."

You've got a wizard who doesn't know what real love is, who thinks he's finally being shown it by the person he adores most. His greatest fantasy, his most potent joy, his most heartfelt aspirations, and they were all offered to him.

And he wants to see what all she's hiding from him, because of course he does. She's the keeper of all things forbidden to him. The empire of Netheril reached magical heights that will never be touched again, and all that knowledge is beyond her curtain. She loves him, right? Surely, if he proves himself enough, she'll let him grasp that power he so desperately wants.

And not even in the power-hungry sense! All that magic Mystra's locked up was accessible during Mystryl's reign. Think of all the answers to theories about the universe that are back there. Every question of "can this be done, and what would it do" would be answered, if he could just bargain hard enough.

She loves him, right?

Surely, if he proves himself enough...

And then, on the other hand, Mystra. Once Midnight, her human personality has been subsumed by the goddess of magic and her duty to the Weave. She has a responsibility to magic, she IS magic.

Then along comes this mortal boy who knows how to handle her Weave. Who doesn't try to wrestle with and dominate, who sings to it. He handles it with such ease and grace—it's not just that he could be Chosen, but he deserves it. To put her Weave in the hands of someone so intrinsically in tune with it, who understands its potential with a wonder like no other. Few enough can handle the raw power that comes with being Chosen, but this one? This one is perfect.

And he adores you. And you adore him, like one would a beautiful butterfly that's landed on their finger. And he's willing to be devoted to you in all things, not out of transaction like most of your worshipers are, but out of love for you, your craft, your magic. You're so deeply and utterly charmed by him.

And it's not like Mystra hasn't walked this path before.

She gives him what he desires, because what he desires is her. And, in a different way, she desires him. She wants him to be her representation in the world. She indulges his adoration with her own presence, and takes indulgence herself in mortal comforts. He's never satisfied with her answers, but who could blame him? She keeps a whole world away from mortals, because she knows what such unfettered power might bring about (again).

And the wizarding prodigy's ambition is lit (again).

And the height of power is reached for (again).

And she stops him (again, again, again).

She does care for him. She doesn't want to see her little butterfly burn himself, and she doesn't want to be the one to ruin those wings.

But then he's not a butterfly. He's a mortal, wielding a weapon of murder, of her murder, and he's brought it to her doorstep because she told him "no." And he's cut himself on it, he doesn't know what it is, but it's hurt him—and it's only a fraction of the hurt it could do to her. How dare he want her help after threatening her?

(He didn't mean to.)

(He only wanted to help.)

(He only wanted. How human.)

She doesn't help him. If he wants to pursue Karsus' weaponry, it's his responsibility, his hubris, that led him to injuring himself on it. She's furious. She's hurt. She's cold.

(What fools these mortals be.)

But then, there's a greater threat to her. Something that could drown the Material in Karsus' failings. And that little boy, who nicked himself on the sword he lifted, still wants her help.

It's a fair trade, isn't it? She'll forgive him, let him into her domain again, if he accepts his punishment and goes into battle for her. He picked up a sword, it's appropriate that he learns to use it in her name, right?

If he was telling the truth, he wouldn't hesitate. If he really wanted to serve her with the Netherese Orb, he would jump at the opportunity to do so. He would have to give up a few petty things in the process, ("petty," she calls mortality, as if family and home mean nothing, as if friends and love are finite. Because to her, they do mean nothing. Because to her, they are finite.) but it isn’t atonement without sacrifice, is it?

It's the tactical move. She's not above hurting one man to save a nation. It's not even the first time she's done it.

(Dornal Silverhand sends his regards.)

If he loves her, he'd die for her, because she'd let him into her paradise. If he doesn't love her, he won't, and she was justified in removing him from her grace.

He doesn't love her. Not anymore.

Does he hate her enough to try to take his dues?

Ambition has always been man's greatest folly.

[clover-mouse]

when you stumble into being a furry they do not tell you how seriously you might end up taking your animal choice for your fursona. i am definitely definitely taking it too seriously but the facets of my identity i want to explore and acknowledge add up to too many different animals to choose just one. the other day i made a chart about it. the chart .. was not enlightening

[loupy-mongoose]

I find it interesting that your Marth mew was noticeably more anthro than your usual mews. Was that intentional? Or was it just a funny quirk of translating the design?

I was looking at Marth's Brawl image, so I might've just done it more one-to-one than I normally would.

Also have no idea how to translate that hair onto a cat without it looking human, lol. (Also gotta keep the boots and gloves~)

[seeminglyseph]

I think it matters a lot that a) everyone who has seeming offered to help Karna has done so *after* she needed it. And b) was in some way using her and therefore needed her.

In the eyes of a child, if you weren’t there when she needed you, and can’t even help yourself, what good are you to her?

[mizzle-moths]

i love these monochrome fuckers

[mangozic]

HELLLLLLLLLLLLLLOOOOOO YOUR MICHAEL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1 YOUR MICHAEL!!!!!!!11 I WEEP AND COLLAPSE!!!!!

you are so real for that, I’m right there with you collapsed on the floor in a puddle of tears (also, thank you!!)

[suckishima]

okay this is so small but makes me really happy. taketora just got done talking about how much he admires tanaka and how cool and "manly" he is, which like makes sense right, both tanaka and taketora are always being shown as these like loud "boy's boys" archetypes who do everything with power, talk about girls, and emphasize "guts" and "manliness," so obviously taketora would respect tanaka

but then he immediately turns to also think about how much he admires fukunaga in the same way—fukunaga who doesn't display any of those same qualities that taketora was just admiring about tanaka. fukunaga is quiet, fairly low-key and doesn't flaunt anything ever. dude just goes around making weird puns that 1 people often barely even hear and 2 apparently seem to baffle everyone. but taketora sees all of that and sees how fukunaga still shows up and gets the job done more than successfully—he's one of the top point getters on the team—and taketora respects him for all of that, still calls him a "man's man" and tbh more than respects him, he admires him and sees him as a rival

and idk that just makes me happy, like 1 it's a nice small way of furudate saying that yeah "manly" is a thing that's important to taketora but it doesn't just mean one stereotypical thing—like it's showing that taketora isn't as one dimensional as we would have thought and that he sees things from multiple perspectives (we also saw this from him back during the whole "guts" thing with kenma and how he respects him too)—and it's also an example of seeing fukunaga from another perspective too. it's because he's so low-key that even we as readers have probably barely noticed how much of a rock he is for the team, but if you got back through their matches you can see how often he does score—he's quiet but he's always there. and i just like that furudate takes a moment to not only acknowledge fukunaga but to do it from taketora's pov in order to really hit it home to us how true it must be

[powerfultenderness]

[Neighbor!König] rescues you from a flood! König x Fem Reader. Au of the main story/not really part of the universe.

Reader getting stuck at work due to heavy thunderstorms + flooding. This au idea has you calling König to see if KorTac has access to trucks big enough for high water rescue. And what do you know, KorTac is actually helping out the city (paid ofc) with rescuing people and even set up a shelter on base.

You tell König that you and a couple of people are stuck at work and instantly he's like, "I'm on the way. Stay there. Be careful, don't go outside until I call you. Be careful." (lol! König you're the one driving through a flood!)

The cabin of the truck can hold three people, and he has another soldier with him to help with rescues as needed and navigate. So after he makes it to where you work, and everyone starts making their way to the back of the truck to get in the bed, with the help of the other soldier, you start to follow the others. But König nudges you to the cabin and tells you to sit in the middle of bench seat and helps you up.

Once you're safely inside, König checks on the others/makes sure the back is secure before he and the other soldier climb back in. (lol it's Horangi, ok). König must have told his friend about you, because he doesn't even question you sitting up front, just nods at you as a greeting.

Before he puts the truck in drive, König makes sure you have your seatbelt on (you do!) and his hand lands on your knee, rubbing a soft and gentle circle into your skin and drifting up towards the hem of your skirt. He's not wearing his sniper hood, just a black neck gaiter pulled up to the bridge of his nose. So when he leans towards you, and you look up at him, his nose brushes against yours as he rests his forehead against yours.

"You're OK, you're safe now. I have you." He starts in English but slips into his native tongue as his eyes slide shut and he takes in a deep breath, as if to try to catch your scent through his mask. His hand on your knee moves up just an inch, fingers sliding underneath your skirt, where he gives your thigh a gentle squeeze.

"König," you whisper, face burning and heart racing. "I. Uhm, thank you." You think he might have been more worried for you than you were!

This is hardly the worst flood you've ever seen, and sure it's still raining and the waters likely to rise, but it's not like you were afraid of the storm. The worst outcome would have been you stuck in your office overnight.

Horangi clears his throat and tells König they need to move. The truck can still hold more and another group of people are trapped a short distance away.

They end up making two more rescues; König touching your leg each time he climbed back in. You think he means it as a way to reassure you, but really, it's to reassure himself that you're still there and safe.

Once you arrive at the base, König and Horangi lead you and the other rescued civilians to the temporary shelter KorTac has set up. But König once again pulls you away from the others to lead you somewhere else.

"My office," he explains and opens a door for you. "Your clothes are all wet."

You cough and try to fight back another heated blush, "in my defense, the news said the storm would pass by six."

He just chuckles as he grabs a hoodie from the couch shoved against the far wall, the rain dancing across the window behind it. "Here. You don't want to get sick."

You thank him and giggle at how large it fits on you. All you need to do is belt it at the waist and it could be one of those cute trendy sweater dresses. Maybe the wolf KorTac patch on the left arm would make you look a little more menacing, though. You pull up the hood and look at him, "how do I look?"

He laughs, the way his smile pushes up his cheeks that you can see peeking over his mask makes it more visible than you're used to, and you find your stomach flipping knowing that he's smiling at you.

"Like my twin," he jokes as he touches your shoulder.

Your grin falters when the radio he has on his belt goes off, a rough voice calling him back to his job.

"On my way," he answers his radio, then looks back at you. "You can stay here, if you want, sleep on the couch."

As tempting as it is, the urge to snoop around a part of König's life you hadn't seen yet is strong, you bite your lip and shake your head. "I don't want to be alone."

He nods, his hand falling from your shoulder down your arm. "Then I'll walk you back." His hand is on the small of your back the entire time.

The other soldiers not on rescue duty, but helping people at the shelter, give you odd glances at you dressed in your KorTac sweater-dress, but seeing the name König on your back keeps their mouths shut.

Ok, so, i'm almost done with another neighbor!König chapter, but it was totally unplanned and it's not a request.

Instead it was inspired by the hurricane that just passed (beryl), like, this is what I was daydreaming of while in the middle and the aftermath of the hurricane. The idea could go two ways. The first is what I'm gonna post, which I'll incorporate into the actual story, but I also like the 2nd way! Only that if I add this into the story, it'll totally contradict the end of the main series (Bar, not yet finished, in the masterlist), I can't have that, so I just gave you this AU thing instead.

[blissfullyabsurd]

*sigh* i can’t stop thinking about satosugu. satosugu calling eachother every second they’re not with the other. talking for hours. falling asleep to each others voices. memorising the others vending machine order. geto getting extra sweets for gojo. casual touches. leaning onto the other, no questions asked. nightly walks after a particularly rough mission. gojo comforting geto after having to absorb a nasty curse. geto soothing gojos thoughts whenever the pressure gets too much. the first time one of them stays over night in the others room. the awkwardness of the days after that, neither of them knowing the source. their first kiss after a long night of talking and joking around. soft lips on lips. the taste of giddy excitement. how everything is different and just like it used to be both at the same time. they don’t have to explain themselves. to anyone. they’re geto and gojo. nothing else to it.

geto staring at rikos unmoving body and realising the meaning of this sight. having no time to mourn his best friend. fight after fight. gojo is alive but geto can’t escape the inevitable. their time together is limited. constant solo missions. never seeing the other. day after day. month after month. he doesn’t sleep. the vermin in his body is messing with his head. he feels unclean. rotten.

the icy dread running through gojos body when he first hears about what geto did. how did he not see the signs? analysing every single mannerism. going over their last conversation over and over in his head. what went wrong? they had been perfect. the disillusionment hitting him like bricks. it’s his fault. he could have done something. he should have done something.

shoko having to mourn both of her best friends. after geto left, gojo was never the same. watching the other man force his smiles. how is he? seeing those blue eyes widen in surprise. of course she knew. the random disappearances. the higher ups asking question, but what were they gonna do? he’s the strongest. sitting outside at 3 am. the smell of cigarettes filling the cold nightly air. gojo catching her up. holding each other close. crying. mourning.

then it’s there. what they both had been dreading. gojo enters her room. bloody and wrecked. he breaks down. she does her best to heal his wounds. the physical ones, at least. geto was not the only one to die that day.

[a-whispering-echo]

also, lmao, i got an anon message in my inbox telling me to vote lol. thats legit fucking hilarious to me, like, babe...

[anticidic]

how do you not write angst I am physically incapable /lhj

like ok, sure, y'all can have your cute lil moment of having a pillow fight in bed but tomorrow I'm making one of you get stabbed

[perpetualexistence]

Bad news: I don't think I'm going to be able to write for ever day of TD horror week as I'd originally imagined.

Good news: The days I am going to be part of will be Cooking. I shan't spoil too much about it but one day already has 2.5K words and is only like a fourth of the way done.

[onewolfaday]

025. yasha nydoorin but werewolf au