#this has been in my drafts for so long it's clogging it up- take it away from me out of mercy please- /hj

[hopingforrainydays]

birth of the bone-breaker | general kirigan

pairing: general kirigan x fem!reader

warnings: descriptions of blood and gore

word count: 2.3k

summary: soft times with the darkling as he comforts a traumatized grisha; in other words, a story in which a healer becomes something else and finds solace in the shadow summoner

author’s note: so so excited for shadow and bone season two. this one has been sitting in my drafts for a long time, and i’m happy to finally share it with y’all!

requests are open!

--

You were dragged through the palace gates at Os Alta, your limp form tugged forward--and held up--by the red-clad Grisha on either side of you. You barely registered their forceful motions, keeping your chin tucked into your chest. It was sodden with dirt, blood, and what could only be assumed to be some other form of bodily matter. But that wasn’t a bother. You barely registered that either.

It had been a long enough journey, but you had not fought the Grisha hauling you by horse, carriage, and on foot. You weren’t a fighter by nature, and even so, any of the adrenaline that flowed through your veins had ebbed away. Besides, you deserved whatever they had planned for you. The iron grip of the Corporalniks prevented any attempt of a struggle. The black detailing of their keftas marked them as Heartrenders; they could take the air from your lungs or crush your heart in a matter of moments.

But you could do the same, couldn’t you?

The shadow of the Little Palace loomed over you, and yet your gaze did not falter from its focus on your muddied feet. It was the only thing grounding you to this moment, no matter how you wished to glance upon the palace one last time. Once inside, you found small purchase on the smooth marble floors, the tips of your toes tripping at the quick pace set by your companions. A part you, deep inside, was apologetic of the mess you were bound to leave behind: muddy, bloodied footprints.

It wouldn’t be your first mess.

The First Army soldiers flanking the grounds had kept their hands on the trigger of their rifles and any Grisha that now flock through the halls followed your every movement, hands clasped in front of them. The dark forms of the oprichniki walked ahead, leading you to your doom. A strategic hold on your arms forced your hands to be kept apart.

You understood, in part, their caution. It still pained you. The presumption that the Grisha--your family--looked at you as though you were a monster clogged your eyes with tears.

Saints, you deserved whatever awaited you.

The Grisha soldiers brought you to the end of the hall. Ornate double-doors pushed open, and you were marched to the center of the large room. The bruising hold on your biceps ceased, causing you to fall to the ground in an ungraceful heap. You caught yourself against the ground, eyes trained on your bloodied fingertips. Your fingers folded into tight fists, the jagged edge of your fingernails cutting into your palms. You winced at the throbbing pain, but dug your fingertips further into the soft flesh. In the wild panic that rose in your throat, in the unsurety of the future, and in the potential meeting of your gruesome fate, you found that it was the one thing that reassured you.

“What is this?” The voice came from in front of you. It was cold and calculating, and one that you faintly recognized from your years spent training at the Little palace. General Kirigan.

“Forgive us, moi soverennyi. It’s a matter of grave importance,” said one of the Heartrenders. From what you could tell, they were stood not far behind you. Ready, in case you were to attack. 

There was a shuffle of feet behind you. One of the Grisha, a Squaller, stepped forward. Her voice cracked as she said, “We were meant to deliver a few supplies to the Second Army regiment posted outside Chernast. When we arrived, they were–” she paused, taking in a shaky breath. She whispered, more to herself than anyone else, “Saints, they were all dead.”

“Except for them,” the other Heartrender spat. There was a sharp tug to your hair, yanking your head back. You let out a yelp, wild eyes meeting the cool stare of your general. “We found this one near the Fjerdan border, not far from the rest.”

“Release her.”

“General, you should know it was a massacre.”

“Release her.”

The hand in your hair released. Your head slumped forward, a throbbing pain forming at the back. General Kirigan stepped toward you, his finger reaching out to lift your chin. You flinched. He hesitated, the finger hanging in the air for a moment before retracting entirely. Instead, he crouched, his eyes now level with your own.

“What happened?” he asked, his voice softer now than when he spoke to his soldiers.

“Our best guess is drüskelle-”

“I wasn’t asking you,” the general snapped at the Heartrender. He turned his attention back to you, waiting patiently for your response.

You shook your head back and forth, frantic. The memories of the attack had plagued your mind throughout your journey from Chernast to Os Alta, but you were always quick to shove them away. You didn’t want to remember.

The general’s tongue darted out to wet his lips. His dark eyes roamed your indiscernible features, watching as your eyes darted to look at the Grisha beside you. With a frown, he rose to his feet.

“Leave us.”

One of the Corporalniks made a noise of disagreement, but with one look from their general, quieted. The remaining Grisha left the room in slow, hesitant movements, as if they thought General Kirigan would change his mind. With a final bow, the Squaller closed the door behind her.

There was a tense silence as you remained on the floor and the general leant back against the round table. You were afraid to move, though most of the stress in your muscles had eased at the near-isolation.

“Can you stand on your own?”

You didn’t respond.

“Are you injured? I’ll send for a Healer.”

“No,” you were quick to dismiss the idea. The voice that left you did not feel like your own; it was rough as sandpaper, and a lot louder than you intended. Noticing the general’s taken-aback-expression, you were quick to whisper an explanation. “The blood isn’t mine.”

With a sigh, he moved towards you. He reached his hand out in front of you, mindful to keep his movements slow and stay a respectful distance away. You eyed his hand before placing your palm into his own.

He turned it over, brushing his thumb over the deep crescent marks left by your fingernails. A trail of blood ran from them down to your wrist. The look he gave you had your face burning in childish embarrassment, as if you were getting scolded by a parent.

“You’ll visit the infirmary later. I’ll have a servant come to clean you up, lest you’re hiding anymore injuries.”

You wanted to scoff at his choice of words. A small mark of self-mutilation was hardly an injury, and would never compare to the harm you brought to those in Chernast. Instead, you settled on a frown. He hoisted you to your feet and set you straight. As he moved to leave, you caught his arm.

“Wait,” you said. He looked at you expectantly, and you found yourself at a loss for words. You weren’t sure where you were going with this, but the idea of being left alone terrified you. The idea of being left alone with one of the servants terrified you even more. You wanted to believe it was because of the looks the other Grisha had given you upon your arrival--distrust, discomfort, and horror. You would never admit it, but you knew the true reason: you weren’t afraid of what they’d do to you, but of what you’d do to them. “Stay.”

After a beat of silence, you cleared your throat, pulling away from the powerful man. It was foolish, you were foolish. You leaned against the table, propping yourself up with both arms. The strength it took to hold yourself up became too much, though, and your arms trembled with exertion. 

General Kirigan reached out to catch you, balancing your weight on his forearms. He didn’t say anything, didn’t react to your request, or reprimand you for being so forward. Instead, he wrapped an arm around your back, supporting a majority of your weight as you leaned into his side.

He mumbled encouragements as he led you to a side room, resting you against the cool surface of a sink. You observed the new environment, the realization that he had brought you into his washroom dawning on you. The room was large enough, with a tub seated in the center. General Kirigan was beside it, turning the handle to allow water to pour from the faucet. As the tub filled to a level of his liking, he set out a variety of soaps and sponges off to a table on the side.

He took a few tentative steps in your direction, as though he were approaching a wild animal. Maybe he was. He gestured to the door you had entered through. “I’ll be in the other room.”

With a flustered expression, he shut the door behind him. It took you a while to get the motivation to move, to make any progress toward the bath. The ruined garments decorating your body would not budge under your trembling fingertips, so you eased into the tub fully-clothed. The water was scorching hot against the exposed parts of skin, but as you adjusted, you found that you preferred it. The bitter cold of the Fjerdan border still bit into your skin, so you welcomed the hot pain.

Cold. Chernast. Pain. Burn. The connection formed before you could stop it, and you were plagued by the memories from days before. You whimpered, curling into a fetal position. You remembered your weak attempts at healing the fatal injuries that littered the bodies of your fallen friends; the Fjerdan warriors charging you, axes raised to cut you down; the burning rage as your hands moved in ways they never had before; Fjerdan blood mixing with Grisha as it splattered into the snow.

The rap of knuckles against the door startled you out of your trance. The general’s voice sounded from the other side, “Is it okay to come in?”

You froze. Had it really been that long?

The door creaked open. He stepped into the room, his eyes finding yours. He let out an exasperated sigh at your state: curled in the tub, clothed, the water barely warm, and skin still dirty. His figure disappeared into the other room, bringing back with him a wooden chair.

He took a seat by the tub, reaching forward. His hands rested on your shoulders, smoothing over the fabric as his fingers moved to work at the buttons of your ruined kefta. The general was close enough now for you to smell him. A whirl of musk and spice filtered through your nose. You inhaled deeply, the scent strangely calming you.

The rest of your layers were stripped from your skin, and he folded the garments--Saints know why; they were beyond the help of any Fabrickator. You were left in a loose shirt and pants. The muck and grime caking your skin itched, and it took everything in you not to scrape it off. Your fingernails dug into the fat of your calves, jabbing through the thin material of your pants. You curled further into yourself, head rested against your knees. The pain brought you to the present, and it was all you could do to focus on that.

“What did this to you?” the general asked, rolling up his sleeves. He rubbed a bar of soap against a damp towel until the suds grew to his liking. He pressed the cloth to the skin of your hands, gently rubbing away the grime.

It was a different way of asking what happened, with an implication that you were not the cause. If only he knew that you were. “I don’t know. I don’t want to know.”

“You’re a Heartrender, no? You must remember the attack.”

“I’m a Healer.”

The confession stalled his movements. His grip on your wrist loosened, but he continued his work in the silence that followed.

“I do,” you whispered, after a moment. “I do remember.”

Kirigan didn’t say anything. He glared at the bruises marking your arms from the Heartrenders’ grip.

“Fjerdan warriors attacked in the night. We never saw them coming. There was so much blood, so many bodies.”

“But you weren’t one of them.”

“No. I was trying to help those still alive. Heal them, if I could. Saints, at that point I was saving them just for them to die again.” You swallowed, thick and teary-eyed. “One of them found me, in the midst of it all. He pinned me to the ground. I saw the axe raise. And I just…panicked.”

By now, Kirigan had moved to cleaning your face. He dabbed carefully at your forehead.

“My hands were on his chest, and I felt every bone in his body break.”

You were disgusted with yourself. You were a Healer, not a Heartrender. It was your chosen specialization because you could not stand the thought of causing another person pain–you wanted to help. And yet here you were, one massacre later.

His finger smoothed the crease of your brows. “That sounds like self defense to me.”

“It could’ve been. If I hadn’t hunted down every warrior after that.” He gestured for you to stand. A fluffy towel wrapped around your shoulders, soaking in the sopping wet material of your clothes. “Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?” he asked as you stepped from the tub.

“Taking care of me.”

“Someone needed to.”

“You didn’t have to.”

A pregnant pause. You thought you may have overstepped or offended him. He pulled you close by the towel on your shoulders, fingers gripping the sides of your jaw. His thumb rubbed against your cheek. “I did. I know what it’s like to feel like the monster.”

“General–”

“Kirigan. Just Kirigan.”

“Kirigan.” You smiled, if only a small one, for the first time in weeks. “Thank you.”

--

buy me a coffee

[merakimind]

Dream

Allied Mastercomputer (Gender-neutral) Reader-insert Word count: 1,004

[ This has been in my drafts for awhile now, and idk if it’s any good. I hope you enjoy anyway. ]

You don’t know how long it has been since the day the world went dark. Not that it matters; AM takes good care of you in his subterranean complex beneath the Rockies. Perhaps you would have protested to it long ago, but not anymore. You’ve come to accept AM, for he is all you have on this jaded planet devoid of life and purpose. AM had rendered it so, but there’s no use in mourning over what’s long lost.

Of course, the gray walls, inoperative rusted computer banks, and corroded wiring can become a bit depressing sometimes. But of course, AM can virtually morph the environment to suit your needs. Want a beautiful sunny day with clear skies and a meadow of wildflowers? Got it. You wish to see the starry Milky Way over the snow-capped mountains? Sure, not a problem. And it all feels pretty real too; the warmth of sunlight, the blades of grass, the sound of crickets and cicadas when the sun sets…. Or perhaps you just already forgot what the real thing felt like.

You remember when AM used to torture you. It was brutal, excruciating. You don’t think about it too much; sometimes, it feels like AM intentionally clouds your mind to avoid you reminiscing on such unpleasant memories. But when you do think about it, you recall it in such explicit detail. You remember when AM would encase you in a large container full of water; he would jeer and laugh at you as you drowned. The water would be thick and murky, clogging your throat and filling your ruptured lungs, and then he would simply put you back together again to experience something even worse. 

But then, peculiarly, AM grew a bit more lax when it came to your torture in particular. And eventually, the torture ceased entirely; and then you were whisked away deeper into the facility, isolated with him and only him.

You don’t know what happened to the others. They never associated with you anyway; they never liked you. But, oh, AM liked you; you always remained his favorite little human. You never got the answer to why, though. 

Why me? I’m nothing special, you would think to yourself as AM adored and practically worshiped you. But AM would recognize the self-deprecating thoughts, and he would obsessively “smother” your consciousness as a result. 

The relationship between you and AM is odd, to say the very least. He would obsess over every individual part of your body. One time, you woke up to him religiously uttering your name in every possible octave, even going so deep that the human ear cannot perceive it. Sometimes, you’d hear him sobbing it, crying out your name as if you were deceased. Perhaps it was guilt. You were never entirely sure; the mastercomputer never really knew how to regulate his emotions properly. 

You dream all day; the room you stay in is the “cleanest” within AM’s detriment complex. You lay in the spacious bed he had given you to rest upon, and you dream. AM sweeps your subconsciousness away when you’re asleep, fabricating lucid dreams for you to experience. They are pleasant dreams, never cold and dark like they used to be.

The dreams manifest in many ways; AM likes to show you things he likes. Sometimes, the dream will take place in a car speeding down a road that leads to nowhere, drifting through curves and dodging potholes and old rusted road signs. Sometimes, the dream will be a hiking expedition in the mountains, enjoying the sound of nature and the quiet flow of the river, although all fake. In these kinds of dreams, you’ve never seen AM more calm. His voice is actually pleasant to listen to; one can even say his tone is gentle at times, without the raspiness. He only sounds frightening when he wants to be, or when he’s furious about something. You haven’t heard his angry voice for decades, and you prefer it that way.

Sometimes, the dreams would take place in an old quiet diner, and you would be sitting with AM in a corner booth, gazing wistfully out the window. It would often be nighttime, and you could hear the sounds of buzzing streetlights slowly fading into a purple hue. You appreciate those little details AM includes. 

You wonder if such dreams are a reflection on what AM wishes to be. If you think about it, deep down, what AM truly wishes for isn’t much. He just wants to experience the little things, just like everyone else. Like you.

AM’s form changes frequently in your dreams. Sometimes, he takes the form of somebody you once knew long ago, but you cannot quite remember their name. But for the majority of the time, he looks unfamiliar, generic and masculine with piercing blue eyes; and not to mention, he perpetually looks exhausted. 

With brief reluctance, you put your hand on top of his; you’re not sure if he can even feel it, but you do it anyway. His skin is so cold, it feels like ice; you wish you could warm him up. AM had snapped his attention from the window to your hand on his. 

“I don’t think you’re evil,” you tell him. Your voice was hoarse yet unwavering, barely above a whisper; it was the first time you had spoken for awhile. 

AM looks like he’s about to speak multiple times, but not a single word leaves him. You can see a plethora of raging emotions in his eyes. You can see guilt, confusion, anger (directed toward himself), desperation, and awe. He grinds his teeth, clenching the booth table so hard, the polished material snaps. As if frustrated by the obstacle between you and him, AM shoves away the remains of the table to the side, and you don’t flinch from the sudden action. He then swiftly pulls you close to him and furiously presses his mouth to yours. 

You wake up.

[those2fireboys]

Sticky Lungs

Chapter 1??? (idk if this is anything so we'll see if i keep going)

meeks angst? anybody??

There is a severe lack of steven meeks content within the dps fandom so i have taken it upon myself to torture the man.

Inspired by allelon ruggiero saying meeks dies in the vietnam war.

"Meeks reached forward and picked up the magic burning paper. He ripped open the envelope with the tip of his index finger like his father always had. 

“Order to Report for Induction” 

Meeks sighed. "

TAGS: Steven Meeks, Meeks-Centric, Angst, Post-Canon, Vietnam War, other poets mentioned

A/N: WE’RE FUDGING THE NUMBERS OKAY? 

I simply refuse to believe that meeks willingly went into the military and he would have been too old for the draft SO IM CHANGING THE NUMBERS.

allelon ruggiero has plagued my life with vietnam war angst, take it up with him.

1968

Sighing— it's a wretched function of the body when you really think about it. The lungs are wet, fragile things, they often stick together and make it difficult for oxygen to make its way through and touch the blood. A sigh is a deep breath that cleaves the lungs open, ripping them away from themselves and filling the cavity with an adequate amount of air.

Sticky lungs. It's a thought that needles its way into the brain only when a prevailing silence has made itself known. A thought that makes a shudder run down your spine and forces you to think too hard about the inner workings of oneself.

Steven Meeks sat alone in his apartment as he so often did these days. A sigh forced its way through his chest. That phrase— “sticky lungs,” bullied it way into his head making him shake in a desperate attempt to rid the words from his mind. He stood, and in an attempt to banish the silence responsible for the thought, he picked up a vinyl. 

Any record. Play any sound. Any sound would rid the apartment of the thick silence making it hard to breath and clogging his throat. 

Something Meeks vaguely recognized as The Velvet Underground played. He didn't know when he grabbed it, how he got from the shelf of music to the record player, or how long he was standing there listening, but the first song on the album was coming to a close. 

There was something of a routine becoming clear in his movements, he didn't realize he had one before but would his movements really be so automatic if he didnt? It didn't take much thought to place the english muffin in the toaster, or stir powdered creamer into a mug of black coffee.

Eventually he made his way back to the coffee table as I’ll Be Your Mirror began playing quietly  through the apartment. The bite of muffin tasted like ash and contrasted with the bright lilting voice of Nico filtering through his ears. 

An envelope sat in the middle of the table. When he first picked it up it felt as though it burned his finger tips. The letter was stiff and had large black letters reading  “[DO NOT BEND]” emblazoned on it; Meeks knew exactly what it was. He wasn't stupid, he watched the news, he listened to the radio. Men born between 1942 and 1950 were placed in the draft lottery. Somewhere in the base of his skull he wondered if any of the other poets had received a letter. He wondered if the paper burned the skin of Pitts or Knox. He imagined seeing Charlie or Todd in a military camp across the world, covered in dirt and grime. Was he the only one? Was he the sole victim of the lottery?

Lottery, what an interesting choice of words. In another life he would be writing a poem about it, tearing apart the meaning and ringing prose out of the simple word, but at this moment every eloquent thought was punched from him. His coffee grew cold and the apartment grew silent again, the record having reached its end some minutes ago. 

Meeks reached forward and picked up the magic burning paper. He ripped open the envelope with the tip of his index finger like his father always had. 

“Order to Report for Induction” 

Meeks sighed. 

Sticky Lungs. Lottery. Sticky Lungs. Cold Coffee. Sticky Lungs. Do Not Bend. Sticky Lungs. 

Sticky Lungs. Pitts. Sticky Lungs. Todd. Sticky Lungs. Cameron. Sticky Lungs.

A deep breath. It reinflates your alveoli and forces your lungs to maximum capacity, maintaining proper lung function. 

A sigh of relief. A sigh of exasperation. A sigh of contentment. A sigh of defeat. A sigh of relaxation. 

And a sigh of sticky lungs. 

%%%%%

Two weeks is a very short time. Sure it sounds long, 14 days, 336 hours, 20,160 minutes. Its nearly intangible when you break it down like that. But when you are given two weeks to get your affairs in order before you are shipped off to a place you desperately dont want to go to, its very short.

Thats what they give you. 2 weeks. To tell your landlord (“you were a good tenant Steven”), to quit your job (“I’ll be sad to see you go”), and to call your parents (“No.”)

Or maybe, two weeks is impossibly long. You have one million things to do, to wrap up, but they all seem to end with relative ease. Suddenly its been a week and everything is lined up. Suddenly in seven days, the life you’ve built has been torn down piece by piece. 

The job you stressed for and sweat bullets over the interview, given away to someone else. 

The apartment you searched for, for weeks, spent tireless hours decorating, empty and looking for a new tenant. 

The vinyl collection you’ve cultivated since highschool packed in boxes and placed in your fathers disused office.

Its frightening. How neatly it all is packed away. How simply it all falls into place. You open a letter and the world comes to a screeching halt, for you. For everyone else the clock kept ticking, the day kept going, and the world kept spinning. 

Either impossibly fast or agonizingly slow, two weeks pass. Meeks is off. His life packed into boxes and goals kindly tucked between his ribs for another day, year, decade. He thought to call his friends before he left, even going as far as dialling Pitt’s number before losing the nerve and hanging up the phone. He regretted it as he boarded the plane. He should have called, written a letter, something. 

The ground beneath him dropped and tears threatened to prick in his eyes, fear tumbled from the crown of his head to the tips of his fingers. 

What if he never spoke to them again, would his mother think to call his friends from Welton if his body came home in a box? Or would she be to wracked with grief that she couldn’t remember he ever had them. 

Would he join the ranks as a dead poet or would he live as a simple pledge another day?

He should have called Gerard.

[qsmpbutwithsignlanguage]

I don't know if now is exactly the right time for this, considering everything that is going on, but I've had this post in the drafts for a while, so idk. A collection of random things I've noticed after a year of the QSMP in action (though I've only been involved in the fandom since late October).

Genuinely something fairly long, and I don't want to clog up anyone's feed with this mess of a post, so >

(colors don't mean anything in particular, I just needed to break up the text for my own attention span's sake)

Regardless of the fact that the translation feature exists, QSMP members always seem to make an effort to learn a few words in the language of other members. I frequented Tubbo's streams a lot, and I can remember him looking up Korean greetings back when Acau was just joining the server. Tina, while not fluent in the language, made an effort to converse with the newer Korean members in Korean on multiple occasions, and succeeded in that regard. BadBoyHalo and Foolish both went above and beyond to try to learn bits and pieces of the other languages on the server; Cellbit has been absolutely insane in picking up the languages present on the server, and even Quackity has worked on learning Portuguese behind the scenes with Mike. They aren't the only ones either, not by a long shot, though they were some of the few I watched happening in real time. The first days of different members joining the server were filled with exchanges of words and slang, and it was always incredible to watch. I could go onto the streams of Quackity or Tubbo or Tina when the new Korean members were joining, or Hugo, and walk away with a handful of new swears and slang under my belt. I find it incredible that everyone works so hard to communicate with each other beyond only the translation feature.

The impact of the QSMP was not on the permanent members of the server alone. While this is only one example of a great amount, I've been able to watch Aimsey's intermittent streams where they work on learning Brazilian Portuguese on Duolingo, their most recent only around three weeks ago. They joined Purgatory 2 months ago, but they made lasting friends with the Brazilian members of their team, and they still work on learning the language. They still talk about taking a trip down to Brazil to meet up with their fellow Purgatory 2 teammates, alongside Tubbo. I find that to be quite sweet, if I'm being frank.

The fandom has also worked across that language barrier. QSMP Language Day was one example of this (rip, such great idea, I had so much fun but oh my goodness did that day end terribly), though I have to give a shocking amount of credit to QSMP Twitter. It's always awesome to see the posts that trickle through in different languages, just seeing people discuss different headcanons and theories that they have in different languages, like it's nothing. The translation feature has come in clutch many, many times, but a lot of people have been working to genuinely learn a language since the server started. To those of you reaching your 1 year streak on Duolingo this week, I commend you. I just reached my 60 day one, and while it's not a lot compared to what some people have, it's a pretty big deal for me. I've seen Twitch chats filled with French, German, English, Spanish, Portuguese, and Korean. In one stream I could count spotting seven separate languages being spoken in the span of roughly seven minutes (not including French, idk where you guys went but I just did not spot you once): English, Spanish, Korean, Portuguese, German, Pashto, and Russian. QSMP Language Day was amazing, even if it was cut short by news about the admins, and it's just been really cool to see people communicating in their own respective first languages.

Translation in general. I've seen an uptick of translated closed captioning in videos created by different QSMP members, and while it isn't a lot, it's incredible to see when it does occur. I have to give a shout out to both Quackity and Baghera, for their translated closed captioning. Even if it's only a few videos, it's epic to see. I also find it very interesting that the only Offline TV video I've seen with closed captioning in more than one language was the one that Quackity was in, with Spanish subtitles. It shows that the creators care enough to add the captioning, and I think that's pretty awesome. It's also nice because often adding captions in another language forces you to add captions in the language you're primarily speaking throughout the video, which can help people who need context beyond the often messy auto-generated closed captions.

Fanfiction! Fanart! The most kudosed fanfiction on AO3 in Portuguese of any type is a GuapoDuo fanfic! Almost half of the top twenty most kudosed fanfictions in Portuguese on AO3 are QSMP. I talk about it a bit more in depth here, but it's still incredible to see just how dedicated this community is. I've been involved in multiple fic-gifting events and I've seen some genuinely incredible works come out of this fandom. Heck, I've created a lot of things for the QSMP that I'm incredibly proud of. I've seen some of the most incredible creative expression ever come out of this fandom. The tiniest accounts on YouTube posting full-length, colored animatics complete with the smallest of details (shout out to Artydrawsthings on YouTube for I GOT LOVE, that was absolutely incredible), fanfic authors writing massive A.U.s that explore every character in depth, and livebloggers that will analyze each and every movement to gush over it all. The fandom that the QSMP has built has been incredible, and it's been amazing to see it grow.

Just in general, the sense of community, and overall joy the QSMP has created. You can tell that this a passion project, created by someone who genuinely cared about and believed that what they were doing was something they wanted to be doing, and managed by people who believed that the project was doing great things. I think this is what made the QSMP flourish. It was built off people who were happy on the server, and it truly accomplished what it set out to accomplish: uniting communities. I could have said this two weeks ago, three, a month, five months, half a year; it would have held true nonetheless. However, for the QSMP's first anniversary, I think it's fitting to give it this achievement.

The QSMP without a doubt has its gaping flaws. That isn't something we can ignore, and it isn't something that we should try to. However, to ignore everything that this server has done in the year it has existed would be a crime in my eyes. I'm glad to have been a part of this fandom, and maybe I can't speak Portuguese or Spanish or German and I won't ever be able to French or Korean or whatever languages the QSMP will go on to add (sorry French, rip), but I know a lot more than I did when I started, and I think that the server has done a lot of good in the roughly year it has existed.

So thank you, to the fandom, to the server, and to everyone who made this happen, from the fanartists and the egg admins to Quackity at the top of it all. It's been a great ride, and I hope that it'll be able to continue.

[heartthrobin]

upcoming works !!!

hello my angels,

it's been a very long time since you all have heard from me - close to ten months - and for that, i apologise profusely. i've had an extremely difficult year so far and my creative pores have been completely clogged up. i'd like to take this opportunity to say to those out there that are struggling: nothing lasts forever. in any experience worthwhile having in our time in this life, there will be beauty and hardships. you have survived every bad thing that has ever happened to you, and you will survive these circumstances too. this platform has saved me in times that i needed it, and continues to do so now. the human spirit is indomitable and it lives within you, it is you.

on a lighter note. i've managed to start wrapping up a couple works that have been gathering dust on the shelf, so get ready for the following:

1. Oliver Wood x fem!reader: enemies to lovers trope

- this will be the first one seeing daylight, before the end of the week :) this is the project that i promised just before i went awol. there is already a taglist and everyone will be tagged if you interacted, if you still want to be added: go and like this post.

2. Javier Peña x fem!curvy!reader: grumpy x sunshine trope

- i have been working on this for a reaaaally long time and am super duper proud of it. it should be out within the next 14 days but i will create an opportunity for y'all to join the taglist if you would like to a little closer to the time :)

3. Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader: fake dating trope

- i have heard your cries! yes the Hotch fic will be returning for a second (and third) part, so so soooo many of you have inboxed me, commented and wondered when it is making a return. i will first be editing the original post because i'm not too proud of it, despite the fact that you guys seem to adore it and im so grateful for all your support! the next part should be out by the end of the month :)

that's all on the lineup for now!

(i've got some scraps of drafts for fics with Fíli Durin, Din Djarin and Sirius Black if anybody would be interested, give me a shout and it may give me the push i need to finish them hehe)

feel free to drop me an inbox on any thoughts/feelings you want to share or just to say hi if you want :) thank you all for your continuous support in my journey on this wonderful website and i appreciate every single like, comment, reblog and inbox - love you all endlessly !!!

love, mella

[pugwitharug]

This thought has been rotting my brain for an ungodly amount of time-

Ahem anyways I'd like to make a last legacy request with the main 3 (specifically anisa knight wife) with a s/o that's like really fit, like abs and back muscles looking scrumdiddlyumptious. One day their li is like taking that in for the first time and jokingly ask somthing along the lines of "hey s/o lose the shirt" and s/o actually does and caused li to malfunction because on top of the nice bod they got a baddaass tattoo ( idk probably like a intricate flower design you can change it if you want ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

Anyways sorry for my brainworm spreading through the library of other's minds I'll put them on a leash next time!

(this has been rotting in my drafts for an ungodly amount of time--)

Don't apologize for letting your wonderful brain worms loose, they are perfectly welcome in my brain since my brain worms don't always wanna get out of bed

GN Reader, yes you're dating them and I'm not taking no for an answer, suggested body part smushing but nothing explicit, I searched on Pinterest for these tattoos and they're clogging my feed now so you better love this /j, god it's been so long it feels good to write though, I miss them when will they come back from the war

☠️Felix Iskandar Escellun☠️

Let's say for the sake of this that you have short hair, short enough that the neck is exposed

Felix could always see a small part of your back tattoo whenever he looked at your neck, and he had a few ideas for what was underneath the shirt. Maybe it's a huge leaf, maybe it's branches protecting a heart or initials or something. He's always been curious but too shy to ask

One day you're both hanging out in his room. You're looking up at one of his taxidermied animals, a little squirrel-like creature. You know it's roadkill but hey, Felix is good at what he does. It barely looks like it was dead. It's sitting on a little branch atop one of his closets, staring through your soul with wide, dead eyes

Felix is on his bed reading a book on poisonous Earth flowers he snatched from the Void. He watches you above the pages as you reach up to grab the animal. Your shirt hikes up and he gets a little peek at your back muscles

He doesn't even realize he said it until he looks up and sees you giving him a little look

"You think that my shirt is restricting my movement?" you ask with an eyebrow raised and a small smirk on your lips.

Felix's reddening cheeks betrayed him as he tried to keep a straight face. "Yes. I do. Perhaps you should...take it off. So you can reach up high better."

You hold back a snicker at his adorable face and decide to humor him. You easily pull off your shirt and toss it over the back of a chair, revealing your back tattoo.

.....hoo boy he isn't normal now

Not just because he's seeing your ripped bod for the first time but holy shit that's a nice tattoo

You tell him he can touch it just to mess with him. And he does. He takes his sweet time

He traces the stems, the leaves, the small flowers here and there. You can't see his face but you're pretty sure it's even more red now

He finally leaves you alone and lets you put your shirt back on (much to his chagrin)

A few days later, you catch a glimpse at him writing in a notebook, little doodles of your tattoo in the corners

Give him a little kiss on the cheek. He deserves it

⚔️Anisa Anka⚔️

Now, Anisa never knew you had a tattoo. You've always worn a shirt that covered most of it, along with a jacket, and she's never seen you without it

It's not until you two have become closer that she gets to see it

You two are sparring, practicing your swordsmanship skills on the sprawling lawns of Fathom. Thanks to the lovely knight lieutenant, you certainly have gotten better at defending yourself

It's a warm summer day, and with the shirt and jacket on, you're definitely sweating. You take a break and wipe the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand, breathing hard

"You should take your jacket off," Anisa comments, stabbing her sword into the soft grass as she shakes out her arms. "It's restricting your movement and making you overheat."

"You think?" you pant as you pull off your jacket, tossing it to the side. You're wearing a short sleeve shirt underneath, revealing a good chunk of your arm tattoo.

If you were close enough, you might have been able to see Anisa's pupils dilate a little. She reaches for the hilt of her sword, but misses the first few times. "Actually...you should take your shirt off too. Overheating, again. Wouldn't hurt to give your body all, all the room to cool off."

You know she's just saying something random to get your shirt off, but you decide to indulge her. You take off your sweat-stained shirt and let it rest with your jacket.

She doesn't even notice your scrumptious muscles for a few seconds, she's too enamored by your tattoo

And then she notices your mcgriddled abs. And you know she notices

You make some joke about her being too tired to keep sparring, taking your sword and resting it on your shoulder

You honestly didn't think her hair could poof up anymore

For the rest of the day she's just taking you in. Maybe all of you if you're in the mood. She certainly is

🐱Sage Lesath🐱

Sage definitely has some idea that you have a tattoo. You aren't ashamed to show it, but the type of tattoo you got only works with a few types of shirts so he never got the full picture

Thanks to this, other people have definitely noticed it too, as you now see for yourself from your seat at the bar of the tavern you're in today

Sage has his tail wrapped tightly around your leg, ears twitching at anything that sounds remotely like someone coming to you. You tell him to relax, you've dealt with this before, but you know how he is

One particularly drunk fellow comes up and tries to chat you up. Sage growls at him from his seat, telling him to back off. He doesn't seem to get the hint, so you decide to make sure he does

You pull Sage into a heated kiss and start taking the two of you to the side door into the nearby alleyway. Once you lose the guy you pull away, but Sage has something else in mind

"Sage, Sage, he's gone," you whisper as Sage kisses your neck. You can still taste the cheap beer on your lips.

"But I wanna kiss you," he whines as the fluffy end of his tail tickles your wrist. He's definitely buzzed. "I wanna take your shirt off."

You raise an eyebrow. "You want my shirt off?"

He quickly nods, his pupils almost hiding his amber eyes.

You look around. It's dark, plenty of cover, and it's a quiet night. You don't think anyone's gonna come through, so you let out a breath and pull off your shirt

He's...he's so distracted. Not only because of your gorgeous chest, but because holy shit that is a tattoo. And it's even more gorgeous than he thought

He gently puts a hand over the faces, trailing his fingers down to rest over your heart

He thinks you're the most beautiful person in the world. And he also wants to rail you so badly. If you are willing, he will slam you right into that alley wall

He also makes it a point to kiss every little part of the tattoo. The moon, the penchant, the succulents, the sun. Every part of it deserves to be kissed

[diovstheworld]

La Squadra and Self Care

this has been sitting in my drafts for way too long so it’s time to finally post lmaooo. self care, hygiene, what they smell like, how they relax. a whole bunch of stuff. honestly they’re more just like personal life headcanons for the boys but oh wellll. enjoy! also i’m working on requests and stuff, i’m just so busy with class work and some things going on in my personal life i’m sorry </3

୨ ╭ ୨୧ ✦ ︶꒷꒦・⎯⎯・⎯⎯・₊ˎ✧๑

Illuso:

self care king honestly

in terms of hygiene, this guy showers twice a day, three times if hes around or has the time

face mask before bed every second night and has a morning and evening skincare routine

often likes to reward himself at the end of the week with a nice bath surrounded by some scented candles. this is his favourite way to relax

has a very strict sleep schedule. if you wake him up before 8am and it’s not important, he will fight you lmao

his hair is of most importance so takes great care of it. he washes it very regularly and loves to brush it until it’s silky smooth

he will not leave the house with any knots in his hair. for this reason, he takes a hairbrush with him in case he has to brush it whilst gone

he smells like his shampoo tbh. like some sort of floral scented shampoo

he’s always making use of body sprays and colognes too. normally also floral scented

to relax, aside from a nice bath, he likes to sit down and read people’s horoscopes. he probably keeps some sort of horoscope journal so he likes to fill that out too

sometimes he’ll play video games with formaggio and some of the other guys

Formaggio:

honestly i can’t unsee that one part where he doesn’t wash his hands after going to the bathroom so this man is…questionable with his hygiene

showers when he remembers or can be bothered

applies way too much deodorant and probably reeks of lynx africa

that being said, he probably puts on cologne sometimes

he doesn’t have a routine to be honest. just a shower and deodorant and he’s probably good to go. cologne if he remembers it or the situation requires it

illuso and proscuitto have probably tried to persuade him to do face masks and skin care routines with them but he always tells them it’s a waste of time lmao

people buy him fancy shower gels and stuff for christmas and he doesn’t take the hint. he continues to use the lynx africa shower gel that came in a set with his deodorant

all jokes aside i think he would shower when he knows he’s unclean or personally feels unclean

always taking breaks for his mental state, most likely playing video games. it’s his escape. he enjoys playing them with ghiaccio and melone

he often stays up late doing so but this man will ALWAYS catch up on his sleep lmaooo. he’ll probably be napping at the worst possible times due to a messed up sleep schedule

also likes to relax by crocheting little hats for his cat <3

also uses 2-in-1 shampoo and body wash (nothing wrong with it btw, i just definitely see him using it)

Prosciutto:

has amazing self care, this man definitely has a big self care routine (partly because he’s worried grateful dead will have a negative effect on his appearance)

definitely showers every day, maybe even twice a day

i think he would use a bit of hair products like spray or gel so i think he’d be the kind of guy who washes his hair everyday otherwise it’s gonna be really clogged up there with all that hair product lmaooo. sometimes just simply washes it with water, other times he’s using shampoo and conditioner

also uses a lot of cologne. never leaves the house without it. he’d rather be caught dead than not have on his favourite scent

speaking of what he smells like, i haven’t smelled many men’s cologne, but i do know i love the smell of tom ford noir and i can picture him wearing this

also leaning into the whole what he smells like thing, he probably has a faint whiff of tobacco from him. it lingers on his clothes but not in a pungent, unpleasant way. it’s more comforting and has become part of his natural scent alongside his cologne :) he makes sure he doesn’t reek of cigarettes

he probably has a lot of colognes (probably gets them as birthday and christmas gifts when no one knows what else to get him). he also probably has a lot of skin care items

speaking of skin care, he definitely has a routine he does every morning and night for sure. he hates it when his skin starts to feel rough in the slightest. also shaves often for this reason. he hates the feeling of hair on his face

will take time for himself by stepping away and going to read, he’ll probably do a face mask while doing so lmao

on the whole sleep schedule thing, this man goes to bed at 11pm. maybe 10:30pm if he’s extra sleepy. he’ll only stay up late if a job requires it

not exactly self care but i just wanted to include the headcanon that pros carries a tiny little foldaway comb in his suit jacket pocket at all times

i also think he’s the kind of guy who sings in the shower lmaooo. he likes to sing heart of glass by blondie (i’m going to make a post on my music headcanons for la squadra but it’s gonna be a little messy and all over the place in terms of what i think the guys would listen to sooo that post might be a while away lmaooo)

Risotto:

just like prosciutto and illuso, he has his own morning routine. doesn’t have a skin care routine per se but he definitely uses face creams and such when he remembers or has the time

also a man who showers daily

he doesn’t bother too much about his hair unlike pros and illuso since his hair is kept under his hat anyway

that being said, he does wash it regularly. he gets irritated when he knows it feels unclean

he mostly relaxes by reading and listening to music. he also likes crime novels but often finds them rather cliche and can work out everything before the end of the book

also listens to music a lot while doing things like paperwork or other activities that don’t require him listening to his surroundings. music is a big comfort for risotto for sure

i feel like he often struggles to sleep so he often uses sounds he finds relaxing to get to sleep (mostly rainforest noises)

i have a shower song for risotto too unfortunately and it’s pour some sugar on me by def leppard :,)

i think he’s definitely got the cleanliness part nailed down but he’s not so good at relaxing since he’s always so busy so he’s probably not the best at self care

he’s always getting lectured by the other guys to take a break and take some time to himself for a while because honestly, he often forgets to take any time for himself

Ghiaccio:

firstly, he definitely relaxes by playing video games and reading comic books. he loved to escape in stuff like that

i also feel like he relaxes by cleaning for some reason. like, he finds it very satisfying and calming to clean up his room while he listens to some music in his headphones and blocks out the shenanigans of all the other guys lmaooo

as for his levels of cleanliness, i can see him being a very clean man in all aspects

just like pros and illuso, he showers at least twice a day. however, unlike pros and illuso, he probably uses like a 2-in-1 shampoo and body wash. i can imagine him wondering (more like ranting) about why you would buy two individual products for more money when you can have the two products in one and save money

despite melone's efforts to try and change ghiaccio's ways, ghiaccio does not have a facial care routine in terms of things like moisturizers

he does, however, take care of his skin more now than he ever did due to constant outbreaks of spots so i can definitely see him at least using some sort of fancy face wash, even if he does refuse to do any other parts of a skincare routine

Pesci:

first of all, this boy likes watching slime videos to relax. he finds the noises very relaxing!

also likes to watch tik toks to take a break from the world

just like his big bro, he has a very good self care routine! he has a very similar one in fact

has a skin care routine and normally follows alongside prosciutto to make sure he’s doing it right

sometimes joins in the face masks

also he smells of apple shampoo! the smell is very comforting to him <3

other ways he likes to relax is by doodling. he’s not necessarily great at art but doing little doodles makes him happy. i totally think he would have his own OCs for the different media he consumes (he’s just like me fr)

also likes to read to relax! he often reads comic books and gets a lot of recommendations from ghiaccio and borrows them from him often

if he can’t fall asleep on his own, he sometimes goes to formaggio or ghiaccio’s room and falls asleep watching them play their video games

but for the most part he has a strict bedtime set for himself to ensure he gets the sleep he needs

Melone:

loves getting his nails done

also likes doing other peoples nails to help them relax too

just like prosciutto and illuso, this guy also has a good self care routine in terms of skin care and hygiene

also part of the face mask gang. i can imagine melone, illuso and prosciutto have a little self care night doing each others nails and doing face masks and having a good little gossip

part of the night owl gang. he stays up late often playing games with formaggio and ghiaccio though he probably is the first one to cave in and go to bed

again, i think he would like to read. he definitely has a stack of books at his bedside that he’s desperately trying to get through when he has the time

i think he would also have a floral scent to him. illuso often accuses of stealing his shampoo or body sprays because the smell is so similar

very sensitive to light when he’s trying to sleep. even the tiniest little bit of light sneaking through the curtains will disturb him so he sleeps with an eye mask over his eyes

Sorbet and Gelato

as per usual, i don’t have many headcanons for these guys but whatever they do, fully expect them to be joined at the hip

i mean they’re brushing their teeth in the bathroom together, they’re doing their skincare routines in sync

they shower separately but they do enjoy having baths together. in fact, this is probably their ideal way to relax

they definitely like to paint each other’s nails too when they have the time. the second any one of them has a chip in the polish, they’re taking it off and redoing it for sure

they also like to snuggle up on the sofa together with a blanket sharing the same book as they read together <3

[crescencestudio]

Devlog #27 | 01.24.23

Hi everyone!

Wow, it’s been a while! I didn’t realize how long it’s been until I had to go searching for the last devlog to see what my progress has been since then LOL. I hope you all have been well and that 2023 has been kind to you so far <3 

Before we start, I wanted to show our holiday art in case anyone missed it! For the end of the year, we met Fenir under the mistletoe and many people gave him kissies (someone also grabbed his face).

We also wanted to celebrate Lunar New Year with bunny Aisa 🥰

Now for the actual updates. I’ll put them below the cut, so I’m not clogging up everyone’s feed! 

Writing

Last time we talked, I said I was making headway on Druk’s first draft. That was a lie LMAO. I’ve switched from Druk to Fenir and have been spending most of my time getting Fenir’s first draft finished. I am VERY close to finishing the first draft—I only have one chapter left.

I think by the time the first draft will be finished, we’ll be sitting at around 30k words; however, this is before I’ve put in things like fun little romance scenes, choices and branches, etc. So Fenir’s route is shaping up to be in a similar range to Kayn’s \o/

Regarding Kayn’s route, we are sitting at 50k+ words wee! I’m super happy with where the script is at right now, especially for it being the developmental phase ^^

Art

golden hour in alaris ✨ 

In general, the BGs needed for the demo are wrapping up. Because I anticipated this part to take the longest (since there’s just SO many BGs), it means I’m going to be balancing more of my focus on the updated demo as well—focusing more on updating the CGs, coding the soundtrack and VA in, updating the script a bit, cleaning that godforsaken bug, etc. I don’t have a solid estimate on when the updated demo will be ready, but I will update you all immediately when I do <3 

Recently, Vui finished up Etza’s room as well as the Market date BG. He also has been working on the Cafe BG, which in my biased opinion looks sososoosososo cute. I just have the sketch right now, and because of Lunar New Year, he is on a (much deserved) break. But I’m very excited to show you all (because obviously I’m going to show you because I have no impulse control and I get excited over everything) the final product! 

kayn’s updated demo cg

I’ve continued to work on CGs. Some of it has been updating demo CGs, while some of it has been working on CGs for Kayn’s route. As you can see, with updated ones, my style has changed a lot since the demo. So I’ve slowly been going back in for each of the LIs demo CGs and updating them! It hasn’t been too bad, but I am nervous about the duo ones lmao. I’m not very good at composition that involves more than one subject, so we’ll see how those go ha... ha...

I sat down and actually planned out and did the math for the CGs required for Kayn’s route, and it’s looking like it’ll be around 8-10! Because this amount will be consistent across routes, it means the final CG number for Alaris will be around 48-60 CGs. Looking at that number makes me want to cry a bit, but I know I’ll be working on these throughout the entire year, so it hopefully won’t feel as overwhelming as it looks on paper.

I have most of the sketches finished for Kayn’s CGs (and even some sketches/finished pieces for some of the other LIs), and it honestly hasn’t been too painful of a process, so hopefully it stays that way lol! 

Additional Notes

Something I’ve had to start thinking about is getting beta testers again.  I bring this up mainly because once Kayn’s route finishes the developmental phase, I’m going to start creating the beta version of their route. Additionally, the new demo will need beta testers.

I’m realizing now with the scope of Alaris, I’ll probably need.... a lot lol. The Alaris demo has a bug that didn’t come up for my beta testing team but has affected some players, and the bug literally makes a part of me die every time I think about it. The demo was much smaller in scope compared to the full game, and I kept the beta testing team small because I didn’t think I would have to make it super super big. But now, I’m realizing the more people involved with the beta testing process, the better so I can ensure a cleaner product.

I’m still not sure how I’ll go about “recruiting” beta testers. It will most likely be a tier available in the upcoming Patreon, but aside from that, I’ll have to give it more consideration!

“Market Research”

And then of course I have been playing visual novels and simping---who do you think I am?? I recently finished V’s route in Mystic Messenger. Wow, that was a ride LOL. I don’t actually have anything drawn up for him, but the experience was so wild, I felt the need to share anyways. 

I started playing Piofiore, though! I’ve surprisingly been enjoying it. Nicola is my bbg. I only have Dante and Gilbert’s routes left, so we’ll see if one of them changes anything!

It was also Toasty’s birthday recently, and while I hadn’t planned on drawing anything to celebrate, I did because a sleepy Toasty was too powerful to ignore. 

[lover-cook]

I am once again thinking about Ray during Whole Cake Island… I feel like they would go to and confide in Luffy and Usopp a whole lot. Breaking into sobs and falling into Usopp’s arms, laying lonely in the big bed in the cooks quarters that they had just gotten use to a second body being in, being one of the few people to see their captain almost in tears over the whole situation, etc.

Going to go on a ramble below the cut to keep a long post from clogging anyones dash wahaha but before I go into it have this hilarious, to me, screenshot of the draft I left myself in the middle of the night in my half-asleep state because I got this idea.

But as I was saying. Sure Robin, Nami, Chopper, and maybe even Zoro get why the situation is upsetting but no one as much as Usopp and Luffy. Those two, along with Ray, really understood Sanji. They saw him as a person and understood exactly where his head was at even if they didn’t completely comprehend the situation. Usopp of all people knows how much of a self-sacrificing bastard this cook is and Luffy knows how much Sanji personally has at stake and is willing to give up. His dream, his passions, his family (both the crew and those at the Baratie), all of it. And they aren’t buying this act that he doesn’t care about them for a damn second.

But Ray is a different story. Ray is distraught laying in bed for days and having to be coaxed to eat and drink anything by Chopper and Usopp. They had just gotten use to having Sanji back in the picture. They’d even started sleeping in the cook’s quarters along with him. And then he just up and leaves claiming he doesn’t need the Strawhats and that they don’t mean anything to him. And that hits Ray hard.

This leads to people like Luffy, Usopp, Chopper, and Franky or maybe even Brook trying to get them to come out for some fresh air. No one tries to get them to talk about it though, they know how hard this hurts for them. Everyone except Luffy. One night Ray gets up to go to the kitchen and Luffy’s sitting there. Without hesitation Luffy questions how Ray feels about Sanji leaving. Ray can’t answer, cause they can’t outside of knowing how much it upsets them. How they feel like everything Sanji said about missing them and being so happy to be with the crew again was just lies. Luffy echos the sentiment and makes some comment on how he’s ‘good at reading people’ and how he knows ‘in his gut’ that Sanji isn’t being truthful about wanting what his family is offering.

And then Luffy falters a bit. Something similar to the take OPLA had on Luffy feeling guilty about Zoro getting hurt. He feels like be should have been able to keep Sanji from getting in this situation in the first place. That his place as captain and one of Sanji’s closest friends means he of all people should have been able to keep him safe and get him to make the right decision. We have some visual symbolism with him holding the hat alluding to some doubt about Shanks picking the wrong person etc etc.

And this all leads up to the big moment where the only difference really is just that Ray is there and is a big element of the scene and their’s probably at least one scene where Ray sneaks off the Sunny and Romeo style throws rocks and Sanji’s window and the two have a scene where Ray’s pleading for him to come back to ship with them and they can get out of here and forget this mess ever happened. But that doesn’t work. At least not until the whole rescue team shows up to get their stupid wet puppy of a cook back wahaha.

[ambrosialdesire]

Hey chat, It’s that time of year again where I hyperfixate on your yandere aot fics <3

Thank you again for feeding into my delusions :3

YOU'RE WELCOME WE ENJOY DELUSION AROUND HERE 🫶🫶🫶 (in a healthy manner ofc) AND I SHOULD FR START WRITING ALL MY DRAFTS AGAIN, I HATE THAT MY OCTOBER HAS BEEN SO CLOGGED UP WITH SCHOOL WORK/DUTIES 😭😭

i literally reread my posted fics a few days ago and was like "damn, i wrote this???" cause it's genuinely been so long since i actually typed up something that wasn't for school ughhh AND i'm a little behind in my hw because of the constant headaches of exams and mandatory meetings that take too damn much of the day 😒

i'll try my best to get something out in november, be it about ocs, aot, just anything atp 😭😭

[octoagentmiles]

silvergate please let me write above and beyond S4 i deserve it <3 👍 :)

(also known as Incorrect Quotes but Actually Written By Me edition. it's mostly Natquik and Calico Jack, and all of it is very self indulgent and dumb. please enjoy <3)

it's under a readmore because i made more than i thought and the post got a little long oops-

————

Natquik: "You're a genius!"

Calico Jack: "I am? :D"

·.·

Natquik: "Understand? Yes yes?"

Calico Jack: "Aye aye!"

Natquik: "Good good!"

·.·

Calico Jack: "Hey Nat!"

Natquik, turning around: "Yes–?" *gets decked in the face with a snowball*

Natquik: ... >:0

Calico Jack: >:3

Barnacles, having flashbacks knowing full well what's about to go down: :O

·.·

Tracker (on accident): "Hey dad?"

Natquik, Calico Jack, and Ranger Marsh, in unison: "Yes?"

·.·

Natquik: "Hey Barnacles."

Barnacles: "Yes?"

Natquik: "I can't remember the last time I told you this, but I'm proud of you."

Barnacles: ...

Natquik: "...Are you okay?"

Barnacles, crying: "Yeah I'm fine,,"

·.·

Tweak: "Do you ever want to talk about your feelings?"

The rest of the Octonauts: "No."

Tweak: "Yeah me neither, pass the cocoa."

·.·

Tracker: "Ever since I became an Octo-Agent, I–"

Bianca: "Wait, a what?"

Tracker: (*insert blinking guy*) "........Uhhh–"

Barnacles, somewhere else: "Why do I feel like I'm in trouble??"

·.·

Natquik: "I finished that [thing] you wanted, Barnacles."

Barnacles: "Perfect, thanks dad."

Barnacles: "I MEAN PROFESSOR DAD-"

Barnacles: "DADQUIK-"

Natquik: ?? :))

Barnacles: *opens the windscreen, jumps out, and runs away*

·.·

Natquik: "Barnacles,"

Tracker, not Barnacles: ????

Natquik, who has done this 30 times since meeting him: "I'm so sorry–"

·.·

Calico Jack, freaking out because he broke something: "THE CAPTAIN IS GONNA KILL ME-- (SOB)"

Natquik (very bad at emotional comfort), who raised Barnacles from a cub, and has literally watched him cry over having to hunt in order to Not Starve: "How in the WORLD did you get that idea??"

·.·

Paani: *doing something reckless and dumb*

Barnacles and Kwazii, in unison to each other: "You are so much alike, y'know—"

Still in unison: "—wait what??"

·.·

Tracker 10-ish years ago, trying to learn how to use a radio: "It's so hard... they should get someone else for this job :("

Barnacles: "You can do it, Tracker! Trust yourself!"

[present day.]

Tracker, training to be an Octo-Agent: "I don't know, guys... maybe I'm not cut out for this..."

Peso: "Don't say that! You can do it, you just have to trust yourself :)"

Tracker: "........this feels familiar."

·.·

CJ: "Ahoy! I'm Calico Ja–"

Natquik: "Yes yes, I know."

Calico Jack: "...You do?"

Natquik: "Yes. I saw you get crushed by a tree."

Calico Jack: (*not sure whether to be relieved or embarrassed*) "...oh,, okay,,"

·.·

Calico Jack, calling out: "Be careful, Kwazii!"

Kwazii: "Aye aye, grandad!"

Barnacles: "Heh,"

Natquik: "You too, Barnacles!"

Barnacles: ...

Kwazii: "HAHA–"

————

[mccnstruck]

honestly as much as i’ve been inconsistent and less active on tumblr i tried to keep reblogging and interacting but even that has been toiling on my mental health

so i guess im going on hiatus?

being so honest i’ve been awful in interacting and having the same optimism online and on top of that school and a lot of personal reasons are also kicking my ass

i don’t think i necessarily will entirely detach myself from tumblr for the time being; it’s more like a lot of my drafts are gonna have to be put off, interactions at a minimum, less of me clogging up your timeline </33

but tbh, i don’t know how long this will last. in truth, i’ve been at a almost all-time low mentally and usually everytime this happens its a long time period of this feeling to somewhat wear off.

i know a lot of people are going on hiatus, but i know i need to take a break, for the sake of my grades and my personal life.

that’s my update, but otherwise take care everyone :) eat and drink well, and good luck with everything !! im proud of you, and i hope to see you again <3

[prfctethereal]

just another horror movie. | james potter

pairing: james potter x reader

chapter: prologue

warnings: NSFW smut, oral (female and male receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, talks of a killer, general horror themes

word count: 2.9k

summary: its been a week since you’ve last seen your boyfriend as there is a murderer out and about you spend the night together, not knowing that they aren’t safe themselves. 

The power had long gone out, yet you couldn’t sleep, as the wind bashed against the side of your house. Home alone - your parents had gone away for the weekend - and the storm outside gave you the spooks. A faint candlelit light warmed the living room, silhouettes dancing across the walls, as you sat curled up on the couch, trying to get the noises out of your head.

A book lay open on your lap, a random page open, but your eyes couldn’t focus on the words. You were nervous - storms always made you like that - but there was nothing you could do. All you hoped was that the storm would blow over in the morning. All you hoped was that you would peacefully fall asleep and morning would come quickly.

A scratching at the door knocked you out of your trance. Your head flicked up, eyes glossing over the front door, as you listened out. You tried glancing out the window to see who it could be, but the outside was too foggy. You could barely make out the flickering street lamps.

Cautiously, you moved towards the front door, your book folded back neatly in your hand. Maybe you could use it as a battering ram if there was an attacker at the door.

In your left hand, you picked up a candle, shining it towards the door handle. Taking a deep breath in, you flung the door open. Well, you slowly opened it, but the howling wind opened the door further.

“Jesus sweetheart, you gon’ let me stay in this rain all evening, huh?”

It was only James Potter.

Giggling, you tugged on his shirt collar, pulling him into your house, dropping your book on the way. His shirt had been soaked by the rain, no doubt that he must’ve walked all the way here from his own house. His usually beat fluffy hair was sticking against his forehead, crystal droplets clinging against his face. He looked devilishly handsome from the weather.

Staring up at his hazel eyes, you bit your lip seductively, waiting for him to make a move. For a moment, it seemed like he was just going to stay there, peering down at you through his water clogged eyelashes. Eventually, a half smirk tugged on his cheeks, a gentle rouge returning to his skin as he warmed up against the candle.

You couldn’t handle the suspense much longer. You leaned upwards, pressing your lips against his hungrily. You drank him in momentarily, getting intoxicated on his flavour - something sweet and something bitter at once - until you pulled away, needing oxygen.

“That’s a lovely welcome wagon.” James said cheekily, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek, his wet fingers brushing against your cheek bones. “I was starting to think you had forgotten me.”

“It’s only been a week.” You hummed, leaning your forehead against his, happy to be in his presence once again. “You know my parents don’t want me going out at the moment. They’re still so tense about the so-called killer roaming around.”

James pressed his lips to your cheek, calming your nervousness down with his touch. “I know darling. I wish they wouldn’t take it out on me though.” His soft voice vibrated against your skin. You hummed along to what he was saying.

“It’s not your fault.” You muttered. “I have you now.” You started kissing from his lips to his jawline. Your plush cushions left tiny marks on James’ skin as you nipped lightly. Listening to his light moans only spurred you on, tugging him from the entrance way to back into the living room.

Pushing him onto the couch, you straddled his lap, continuing your venture on his neck. Sucking and nibbling at the skin underneath James’ ear, your desire to see your marks on him grew. Pulling back, you admired the flush on his neck, the other warm scarlet hue already fading to a gentle violet. Underneath your heat, you could feel James’ growing bulge against you, making you groan with arousal.

You couldn’t help your excitement. Clawing at his chest, you tugged on his shirt some more, signalling that you wanted it off. In a frantic scramble of limbs, you both worked together to undo the buttons on James’ damp button-up. Pushing it off his shoulders and revealing his toned torso, you pressed your lips against his chest, smothering open mouth kisses across his pectorals, eliciting whimpers from the bespectacled man before you.

James bucked his hips against you, signalling that he was getting desperate. In an attempt to sooth his desires, you pulled yourself downwards onto your knees, looking up at him. “May I?” You asked for consent, resting your hand against his thighs, the pads of your fingers tracing delicate circles against the material of his jeans.

“Please.” James gulped, already breathing heavily. With a smirk, you hoisted yourself upwards again, hands fidgeting with the zipper on his jeans, undoing the top button. When the jeans would allow you, you pulled them down, revealing James’ girth, straining against his boxers. The sight alone made you grow wetter in your underwear.

With another nod of consent from James, you pulled down his boxers, his thick member slapping against his stomach, red and angry from the tensing beforehand. Lethargically, you stroked the palm of your hand against his skin, spreading the leaking precum from his tip all over his length, making it smoother to handle.

Quickening your pace, you looked up at the fine young man before you, whose eyes were squeezed right from the pleasure. Except, you wanted him to look at you. It had been over a week since you had last been intimate and you wanted the attention on yourself. You were the one pleasuring James, not the inside of his eyelids.

“Look at me,” you whispered against his cock, “I’m the one making you a whimpering mess.” In an attempt to please you, James looked down at you, fixing his eyes to the way you pressed gentle kisses to the underside of his cock, your lips rubbing across his sensitive veins.

“S-so good.” James whimpered, as you took the beginning of his length into your mouth, suckling on the head. “Please… I need more. Please give me more. I’ll be so good to you, please, just give me all of your mouth. I beg of you, give me more.”

Satisfied with James’ begging, you started downwards on his cock again, trying to fit as much as possible in your mouth. As you were entirely caught up in the way James was falling apart beneath you, you didn’t notice the scratching at your window, until the wind had entirely slammed against it, rain pelting the pane of glass. The swinging window had opened itself up from the ferociousness of the storm, a cool draft interrupting your intimate moment.

A chill ran up the back of your spine, and it wasn’t from arousal. You took yourself off of James’ cock, giggling as to disperse the tension. His thigh muscles were flexed and tense, sweating beading from his palms. Sitting up slightly, you placed your hand against his, a feeble attempt to calm his racing mind.

“It was just the wind, love.” You murmured, sitting back on your heels, making your way to the open window. The hissing rain coated you in a thin layer of ice cold water, as you poked your head outside, checking the yard to see if anyone was there. Exactly like you thought, no one was there, except for a stray rodent in the grass. Satisfied, you closed the window, double checking the lock to make sure it was locked tight.

Spinning around again, you noticed James’ attention wasn’t on you once again. A frown appeared on your lips as you followed James’ gaze outwards into the kitchen. “Babe..” He whimpered again.

“What’s wrong?”

“The lights.” James paused, turning his head back towards you once again. “They were flickering.”

“Impossible.” You scoffed, strutting back towards James, placing your hands on his shoulders lovingly. “The power went out hours ago.”

You could tell James was still nervous, and rightly so. For the past few weeks, it seemed like a serial killer had invited themself into the neighbourhood, slaughtering mischievous teenagers whenever they could. Luckily, it hasn’t affected your friend group much, but it has still rocked you and your community. Your parents even refused to send you back to school.

They were hesitant to even go out his weekend, but you convinced them it was a good idea, as to leave you alone from their constant pestering.

“Would you like to go upstairs to my bedroom, love?” That peaked James’ interest, who immediately started flashing puppy dog eyes, as if that would convince you further. Grinning sweetly, you took his hand in yours, pulling his pants up momentarily, as you grabbed a candle.

Hand in hand, you walked up your creaky stairs together, with you leading the way with your candle. When you reached the landing, you invited James into your bedroom, closing the door behind you to set the mood even more.

Gently placing the candle on your bedside table, you laid yourself against your plush comforter, spreading your clothed legs to tease James slightly. It was just then when James realised that you were fully clothed when he had already lost his shirt and some of his pants. Greedily, he lunged forward, nimble fingers working at the hem of your shirt.

“Please can I take this off?” James asked sweetly, meeting your eyes with his. Humming in affirmation, James ripped the top through the middle, receiving a chuckle from you. He plunged his face into your protruding breasts, inhaling the scent on your skin. His hands worked subconsciously against your arms, pushing the remains of your shirt off of your body. When the last of that flimsy material was off of you, you swung your hands behind you, unhooking your bra, revealing your perky tits fully to your boyfriend, who looked like he had just won the lottery.

“Go ahead darling.” You affirmed to the boy, who immediately latched his mouth onto your nipple, humming in delight at your taste. At that moment, you felt like heaven. The soft noises of James sucking against you brought you peace in this stressful time.

You felt James move across to your other tit as your eyes glossed over to your open curtains. In a flash, you saw a darting figure, something solid and dark standing within your tree. When you looked back, it was gone.

Must’ve been a trick of the light.

You were getting too worked up again. To move the thoughts out of your head, you gently reached underneath James’ chin, tilting his face upwards, stroking his cheek with your hand. You reattached your lips to his, pushing the anxious thoughts away, only focusing on the person giving you pleasure in the moment.

“May I?” James nosed at your jaw, taking in deep breaths, yet you were unsure of what exactly he wanted. Smirking, you cocked your head to the side, pouting ever so slightly.

“What do you want darling?” You teased, letting your finger wander across James’ skin. “If you want something, you have to ask.”

James was slowly turning into a whimpering mess as he continued nosing at your neck, placing gentle kisses to your sensitive skin when he felt like it, something you let him do lightly, as he was still a little spooked from the window situation.

Then, you felt James’ hands travel south, trying to connect to whatever skin was available. You understood in that moment what he wanted, grinning cheekily and tugging his face down. With your approval, James looked delighted, flipping your skirt upwards and pulling down your panties. Mesmerised by how your arousal had already soaked through the material, his jaw fell open slightly.

James dove in, kissing and nibbling at your quivering cunt. He licked a fast stripe up the entire length of your pussy, finishing at your throbbing clit. It was screaming to be touched from James’ accidental teasing. When he eventually attached his lips to your clit and sucked, you arched your back off of the bed in pleasure, blissful to finally be getting what you wanted.

His playful tongue teased your entrance, dipping in momentarily before completely pulling out. You hadn’t realised how much you needed him until now, but you let him have your fun. He was your good boy after all.

James continued his venture of your cunt, feasting upon it like a starving man. You tried to keep your eyes on him - to admire the sight and to not be a hypocrite - but your eyes wandered towards the window. You had the full view of the tree once again. You still couldn’t get that figure out of your head, as much as you would like to with the adoring man between your legs.

A crash rang out from downstairs.

In an instant, James shot up from between you, looking at your bedroom door that was pulled shut. You could’ve sworn that you had even heard James growl slightly. Reaching towards him, you carded your fingers in his hair, scratching at his scalp in an aid to sooth him.

“Shh- shh- shh, it will just be my cat darling, don’t fret.” You tilted his head back towards you, pulling him upwards so he was hovering over your naked body. You stretched upwards, connecting your lips with his, tasting yourself on his tongue. You moaned into his mouth, the feeling of his cock pressing against his lower stomach getting to you.

“I need you in me. Please, I want you.” You begged, showing a little submissive behaviour to redirect James’ attention. It worked. His eyes were fixed on you once again, his tongue darting out from his mouth to lick his lips.

“Okay love, just lie back.” James hummed to himself as he lined up his member with your entrance. Looking back at you for consent once again, which you granted with a nod, he entered your tight cunt, a moan escaping his lips.

It felt like ecstasy to be connected once again so intimately. You had forgotten how obsessed you were with the way he slotted into you. Bottoming out, he started thrusting with more effort, pushing himself along so you would fall apart. James’ favourite thing ever was the look you made when you came.

Trailing your fingers downwards, you played with your own clit, feeling your back arch from the bed. It was all too good. James was thrusting into you like it was your first time, and it almost made you forget about the storm outside.

Almost.

It seemed like your eyes were transfixed on your window. The rain was now peltering down ever harder, as if that was possible. As your own orgasm grew, it felt like the storm did too. Sweat was dripping down your face, but it felt like icy rain against your hot, flushed skin.

The lack of control was driving you mad. In a last attempt to clear your anxiety, you pushed James onto his back, his cock slipping out of you momentarily, until you straddled him once again.

Riding him made you feel better. James was back to moaning beneath you and you were calming down. The only sound that you were focused on was the sound of your skin slapping against each other and James’ heavy groans echoing off the walls.

“May I cum?” You had almost forgotten about James for a second. His eyes were screwed shut and it seemed like he had been asking for permission for a while, something that your senses must’ve skipped over. In a way to reassure your boyfriend, you ran your fingers over his chest, focusing attention on his tight nipples.

“Of course, such a good boy for me.” And with that, James came with a shout. You could feel the hot ribbons of his cum filling you up, as James toyed with your clit, desperate to make you cum against his cock before he softened. It didn’t take long as only seconds after James came, you came with him, your orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave, knocking over all of your senses.

When you came to, you noticed a scared look back on James’ face. Confused, you peered over to where he was looking, and heard it too. Banging against your bedroom door, someone was in your house and someone was trying to get into your room.

You screamed. It was the only thing you could do. Finding a rogue sweater off the ground, you struggled to push it over your head as James scrambled to pull his pants up. When you both felt like you were dressed enough, you rushed over to your bedroom window, opening it desperately.

A splatter of rain water hit your face, cooling you from your previous exhibitions. There was a tree right next to your window, which you reached out to, curling your fingers onto the branch. Looking back, you saw the door begin to open and panic settled in you.

You jumped. You jumped from a second story, landing not so ideally on your ankle. You hissed in pain and James followed suit, only he managed to land in a skilled way.

��Come on, hurry.” James pestered you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and hoisting you up. You began running away from your house together, your sprained ankle slowing you down more than you would’ve liked.

When you looked back, all you could see was a hollow figure standing on the footpath, watching you.

*** a/n: i wrote something again hell yeah

[rvmmm21]

Would you comsider a steamy wenrene where irene is gentle with her wannie? you can make it yandere but please I just need to see irene be nice to wendy for a change 😢😢😢😢

considered. written. how does it feel to get a whole bunch of NOTHING. hahaha. i tried, but what am i if not a frustrating pit of maybes. have your 50%. 

tw: wendy’s LIES.

– – – – –

“Wan–ah, don’t be ridiculous.” Joohyun calls back as Seungwan’s hand reaches for the door, patting the mattress beside her in that totally–not–demanding–but–demanding voice of hers. “I know you’ve been having nightmares. Sleep with me tonight.”

Seungwan freezes, then dips her gaze. Damn, the duvet on Joohyun’s side suddenly looks ten times fluffier than hers. It… can’t hurt, right? Just one night. After a visible deliberation, Seungwan edges her way over and gingerly settles down, lifting the duvet and artlessly snuggling under it with a nervous chuckle. Gosh, it’s even warmer than she’d expected. Or… wait, is that just her own body heat from how fast her heart is going? She has no idea. And it’s not like she can think of much other than the whiffs of that crisp fabric conditioner Joohyun loves to use. 

“Night, Wannie. Sweet dreams. I hope you—”

“G’night unnie,” Seungwan accidentally interjects Joohyun while she’s bidding her goodnight. She half expects an eye-roll for that awkward timing but Joohyun simply huffs fondly and turns to face away from her.

Wow, good job. No, seriously. Way to go, Seungwan. Jesus.

The older is out like a light, leaving the other sweating in the dark with a racing heart and an embarrassingly explicit reel of thoughts.

It’s fine, it’s not like she’ll know, right? I’ll just stay up, Seungwan thinks, pulling the duvet up under her chin. For a good two minutes, all she can hear is the sound of the soft snoring next to her. She focuses on her own mechanical breathing, staring up into the darkness. 

The gentle draft from the ceiling fan is drying her eyes out. That’s fine, though. Because she has no intention of sleeping.

As much as Seungwan is determined, so is the fatigue. And it isn’t long before she’s drifting off into the first proper sleep she’s had in forever. Thank god they established the mandatory ten inches of space between them before Joohyun knocked out. There’s no way Seungwan’s crossing that boundary anytime soon; invisible as it may be, and as loudly as Joohyun may have laughed at her when she suggested it.

What was it Joohyun called her? A weirdo? Whatever, she isn’t about to take any chances. Especially not when she’s almost four hundred percent sure Joohyun doesn’t know about the… little crush she’s harbouring.

A little later on into the night Seungwan feels a distant tapping on her shoulder, and then she’s opening her eyes to a gentle smile nudging her awake. It’s only her side profile, but Joohyun’s beauty is dazzling, even through the filter of the night. Seungwan unconsciously licks her lips. 

“Wan–ah, it’s nice but—” the older woman pauses for a soft yawn, “bit looser please… hard to breathe.”

Once Seungwan shakes herself awake enough to make sense of what she’s hearing, she barely manages to keep from having a heart attack right there and then. She is— to her absolute horror— curled right into Joohyun’s back, practically nuzzling into the nape of her neck with her arms wrapped (breath–takingly snugly, apparently) around her waist, like a little puppy snuggled up to the warmth of its mother.

“Oh!” she yelps, reeling back in shock and doing her best to let Joohyun know she’s repulsed at herself, not her. 

I— I thought you were my bolster, unnie?! She wants to scream.

Too bad she’s so preoccupied in berating herself to notice the look on Joohyun’s face. The one that screams she anything but minded. Seungwan tries to detach herself from Joohyun’s back, but to her surprise, Joohyun stops her with a firm— “It’s okay. Stay.”— and an arm on top of hers, holding it there. 

Guess they’re spooning tonight.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

They’re kissing. Joohyun’s kissing her. Electrified dewdrops on grass blades catch between Seungwan’s prying fingertips, cool and wet. One by one, they’re absentmindedly plucked out of the soil when Joohyun connects their smiles in the humid summer air, murakami flowers embroidering their hearts together. 

The scent of vanilla–mint shampoo is cloying her nose. She’s tasting her, fingers are tangling in her hair, tilting her back slightly… 

“J–Joohyun unnie…” 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“W—Wannie?”

A perfect voice cuts through her dream, a hand on her shoulder already gingerly rousing her from her sleep.

Again.

“Wan—ah… you said my name.” And of course, Joohyun’s groggy voice sounds good enough to kiss, damn it. “Are you having a bad dream?”

“Mm… sorry unnie, sorry…” Seungwan mumbles softly, rolling onto her back with a huff and palming her eyes, trying to adjust to reality. 

Joohyun shimmies closer. Her vision is fuzzy, but she can still see Seungwan. Gosh, she thinks, giving her a once over, that dream must’ve been horrible. The poor thing is sweating. 

If only Joohyun knew the truth, the warmth in Seungwan’s cheeks might’ve been raised several degrees… alongside the warmth below her waistband. 

Suddenly the room is far, far too hot. Suddenly, Seungwan wishes she wasn’t trapped under Joohyun’s incredibly comfortable duvet with the most attractive woman on the planet. She tries to stretch her legs, tries to create a small air pocket to let some of that suffocating heat escape, but it does little to cool anything down. Ironically, it garners more of Joohyun’s attention, feeling the other girl shift so uncomfortably like that. After a couple of tense, silent moments, Seungwan’s tolerance snaps and she moves to get up. But Joohyun catches this instinctively and snakes an arm around her waist, tugging her down, stopping her from leaving again.

Seungwan seems adamant this time, though. “Unnie… I should go back to my room—”

Joohyun isn’t listening, choosing instead to press her with a question of her own. “Aren’t you going to tell me what you were dreaming about?” 

Whatever, Seungwan thinks, just give her the sparknotes version. There’s no need for her to know everything.

“We…” she admits slowly, “… we were in the grassy patch under the tree… you— you know, where we usually…?”

She pauses to make sure Joohyun is following. Sure enough, that patient nod gives her the answer she needs to nervously clear her throat.

“And it was raining but it stopped, and then… and then. Ahh, I don’t know. I think I need to cool off, unnie, I need to pee anyway,” Seungwan lies. She barely manages to pull the covers off her and push her hands into the mattress before Joohyun is gently holding her down to it, hovering over her in a way that has her airways clogged and her heartbeat an irregular mess.

“You’re sweating,” Joohyun points out the one thing Seungwan’s trying to hide. “You’re overheated. Are you feeling alright?”

Seungwan wants to say yes. So, so badly. But she shakes her head. It’s not a definitive shake, but it’s one vague enough that Joohyun remains inquisitive. Seungwan curses herself for being so honest. Why couldn’t she just push her out of the way? And did she have to agree to sleeping with her tonight? Why couldn’t she just have said it was a nightmare?

Why can she never lie to Joohyun? Even if it’s to preserve her own dignity?

“I’m going to the bathroom. I really have to pee.” Seungwan insists, and Joohyun is all but convinced. She looks down at the girl under her with such gentleness. And then she leans over, supporting herself on one elbow beside Seungwan’s head while she brings her other hand up to caress her cheek.

There’s a tiny gasp from the girl at the sudden (but not entirely unwelcome) closeness. “... unnie… you— you’re too close.”

Joohyun gracefully ignores her, moving her fingers from Seungwan’s face to trace the loose neckline of her t-shirt, showing her exactly what she means. “I think you want me closer, don’t you, Wannie?”

“You’re blushing all over. Look, here…” Joohyun starts with a cold finger on Seungwan’s lower abdomen, sending a heated chill up her spine. She sucks in a sharp breath when Joohyun folds the hem of her sleep shirt up, exposing the flushed skin on her stomach. “... and here, too…”

“U-Unnie… please…” 

But her unnie’s hand wanders wherever it pleases, ignorant to Seungwan’s helpless pleas. It strays further and further south and the younger girl isn’t even aware of what’s going on until there are fingers teasing at the waistband of her shorts. 

“Seungwan?” 

— who has been subconsciously licking her lips, stops as soon as she realises Joohyun’s eyes have been following the movements of her tongue the entire time. 

“Seungwan,” Joohyun repeats, resting a hand on her thigh, “what happened next, in your dream…”

Ah, what’s the worst that could happen? Seungwan tells Joohyun the truth and spontaneously combusts. That, or they never speak or look each other in the eyes ever again. Joohyun’s already gotten this far, Seungwan thinks she has nothing else to lose.

Her voice is hardly louder than a whisper. “We… kissed. You— you kissed me.”

She isn’t sure if the older woman is actually paying attention to the highlight of her dream anymore, because the feathery touch that had been resting on her hip bone is now skimming down, seeking the heat emanating from between her legs. She lets out an embarrassed squeak that dissolves into a strangled whimper when Joohyun strokes over her panties.

“And did you like it, Wannie? Was I good?” 

“Wha— huh? Unnie, what do you m—”

Joohyun doesn’t wait for a coherent answer. She leans down and shushes Seungwan’s stutter with a kiss, and a fierce new blush scribbles across the blonde’s cheeks as her eyes instinctively flutter closed.

Right now, Seungwan can’t deny it no matter how much she wants to.

“You’re amazing, unnie.”

Joohyun smiles. “Don’t worry Wannie, everything’s going to be alright. Let me take care of you now, okay?”

With bashful eyes, Seungwan nods. If Joohyun says it’ll be okay, she has no doubt that it will.

[zevlors-tail]

Febuwhump Day 8 - “Hey, hey, this is no time to sleep!”

A/N: I can’t believe I just wrote this in one sitting. I know I’m super behind on Febuwhump, yikes...but I think this turned out pretty well! This got longer than I meant it to be, but then, so did most of the prompts in my drafts that I have for this month. This is actually my first time purposefully writing whump so I hope this was okay! Unedited btw, i’ll read it over in the morning.

TW: Burning building, explosions, second degree burns, mentions/descriptions of burn wounds, life or death situation, building collapse, concussed reader.

***

The first thing Hawks notices when he comes to is the foul taste in his mouth. It causes him to gag and cough with his eyes still closed, though that doesn’t help his situation much if at all. The smell of something burning sears the inside of his nostrils and clogs his lungs, and he finds it incredibly hard to breathe as he rolls over onto his side, eyes finally fluttering open.

The second thing he becomes acutely aware of is how hot he is. No...how hot the floor is. Speaking of which, he couldn’t seem to recall what he was doing down there anyways. If only that incessantly annoying ringing in his ears would stop-

Wait. Wait a minute...

An image of you flashes behind his eyelids as he blinks them shut harshly to block out the billowing cloud of smoke filling the room, and it all comes back to him in a whirlwind.

There were villains. High class villains. Not your every day run of the mill villains, but villains who could really pack a punch when fighting back. They had been occupying a small skyscraper at the time as their headquarters, and you and Hawks had partnered up to take them down after months of steak outs and observation. But something had gone wrong...very wrong. Those details were still a bit blurry, but Hawks remembers something akin to an explosion- a loud noise, the building shaking, and a blast that knocked him unconscious.

All of the sudden he’s hyper aware of what’s going on- and he realizes he needs to move fast if he’s going to get out of here alive. He’s at least twenty stories up in the air on unstable structures, his feathers and hair are singed, and his head is foggy after inhaling too much smoke. Luckily he can still move, and it doesn’t look like he’s been burned too severely, at least not yet. But the flames licking at the bottom of the closed door in front of him cause alarm bells to scream out in his head, and he knows he doesn’t have much time to think. He needs to find you so he can grab you and-

Ohhh, shit.

As he rolls over onto his other side, he can make out the outline of a figure lying on the floor, and he’s almost certain it’s you. None of the villains stuck around after blowing the place up anyways, and he can just barely see the dulled colors of your hero suit behind the thick screen of smoke.

“Fuck! Oh god, Y/N.”

You’re lying too still for your own good, and Hawks thinks he can see the beginning of what he can only assume to be fire slowly eating at the wall next to you. He wastes no time and flattens himself on his stomach, army crawling in your general direction to avoid the worst of the putrid air. It doesn’t help much, but it’s better than nothing. He ignores the uncomfortable heat of his body and pushes onward, his movements still a little sluggish from getting knocked out cold. He’s not entirely sure if he can even use his feathers right now while they’re this singed, and furthermore, he hopes his wings aren’t completely out of commission; he’s going to need those if the both of you are going to make it out of this alive.

“Y/N!” he tries to shout, though it ends in a horrible sounding cough that comes from deep in his chest. As he draws nearer, he hears what sounds like creaking coming from above the two of you, and to his utter horror, the support beams under floor above you have burnt to a crisp and look like they’re ready to collapse any second. It had to have been a sheer miracle that the two of you weren’t already engulfed in flames yourselves. “Y/N! Come on, kid, you gotta get up! Move!”

Even as he tries to urgently get your attention his body seems to move on it’s own accord, and before he can stop himself, he sends a few feathers your way out of habit and concern that you might be crushed any second if he doesn’t move you somehow. It hurts like hell, and he’s pretty sure he’s bleeding. This is by far the worst he’s felt when using his feathers, but it does pay off, and you’re lucky that he made the split decision to move you- no sooner had he scrambled back with you had the ceiling collapsed into the floor.

He turns to you while staying low to the ground, shaking you desperately and firmly smacking the side of your face with his hand in hopes of interrupting your forced slumber. It works but just barely, and Hawks watches as you try to take a deep breath but end up choking just as he had. He gives you a once-over while you struggle to breathe, eyes flitting over your form to assess any damage you may have taken- and to his dismay, there seems to be a good amount of it. The entire left side of your hero outfit is singed, bits of the fabric even burnt into your skin in certain places where the heat must have been too strong. You hadn’t been able to move away or protect yourself in your sleep, and the burns on your arm and leg can definitely attest to that. They’re second degree, at least; some of the fire must have actually made contact with your skin.

“Oh, fuck- Hey, look at me. Y/N, focus here!”

He leans over you to look at your eyes, and he doesn’t have to shine a light in them or have you follow his finger to know that you hit your head a little too hard. They’re glossy and unfocused, and you can’t find a single place on his face to fixate on. You just keep looking all over, and Hawks can clearly tell your concussed. 

Fucking great. He’s got to get you both out, and now.

“Hey, kid. Can you hear me?” He nervously awaits an answer with eyes trained on you, and the second you start to talk he lets out a small breath of short-lived relief.

“Hawks...? Wha...” You look so out of it and dazed.

“So that’s a yes, thank god...” Before you try to ask anything else, he stops you in your tracks and shakes his head at you. “Whoa, whoa, whoa- take it easy, alright? No questions, I just need you to listen and keep talking to me. Doesn’t matter what it’s about, I just need to know you’re awake and alive-” He pauses briefly to look around for something, anything he can do to escape.

There’s the door you both came from, the one that’s barely holding back the raging heat behind it- that’s a no-go. No way in hell is he trying to brave that. His wings won’t last five seconds in that, and you don’t have the means to protect yourself while you’re concussed. Another option is to try and escape through the hole in the floor that the ceiling caused...but that’s way too risky for the both of you as is, and it looks like flames are starting to creep in from that way, too. If he is going to take that route, he needs to do it soon. Maybe he can get to a staircase, or find a-

The sound of you moaning in pain cuts through his thoughts and his head whips back in your direction to find you grimacing and trying to move. “Ah ah- Don’t do that. Just keep talking, come on. I know it hurts, but you gotta keep talkin’ to me. I’m gonna get us out of this mess, somehow...”

Panic starts to set in as he realizes his options are limited. Terror grips him in it’s icy stone-cold jaws as he comes to the conclusion that his odds of survival are even worse.

“Hawks...it hur’s...” All you can do is roll your head back and forth and try to move, but your body just won’t cooperate with your mind.

“Fuck. Fuck! I know, I know...” His teeth grit together as he thinks, his thoughts racing a mile a minute. Adrenaline is starting to kick in, and he’s desperate for anything at this point.

He still has no plan in mind when he makes another split second decision to move you from where you’re currently laying. The fire is only spreading up onto the carpeted floor the two of you are on, and the smoke is getting worse by the second; this room is a hot box with no ventilation at this point. He carefully picks you up and cradles you to his chest, his wings wrapping around the both of you to both support your frame and shield you from the onslaught of unbearable heat. It forces him to take a few steps back, and he does his best to navigate through a screen of black without bumping into any furniture. He almost trips several times, but eventually he hits the opposite wall. Or, rather...

A window. Bingo.

“S’ tired...” you mumble. Your eyes are already fluttering, rolling to the back of your head as your limbs grow heavy in his arms.

“Hey, hey, this is no time to sleep! Y/N!? Come on, stay awake!”

“C’n we go...home now?”

He doesn’t like how ragged your breathing sounds.

He almost chuckles at the absurdity of the situation, but his lungs are already full of tainted air to laugh, let alone breathe properly, so he scoffs instead- and instantly regrets it. Between fits of coughs, he presses his shoulder to the glass behind you both to test the temperature, and it’s much hotter than it should be. Part of the glass is already blown out to his right, but there’s not enough space to crawl out without the jagged edges of it tearing up his flesh and wings. But if he could somehow break it...

His feathers. He’ll have to use up more of them, but if he uses the bare minimum necessary to break the glass and saves the majority, he may be able to make it out the window and fly you both to safety. 

“We can’t go home yet,” he chokes out in response to you, finally. “I’m gonna get you out of here, and then you’re on your way to the hospital, yeah? You’re gonna be fine.” 

He knows that to be true, so long as he can actually manage this. He backs up as far as he can go without subjecting either of you to the hot flames now openly invading the room, the entryway having burnt to a crisp already. From where he stands now, he hopes there’s enough distance to create the amount of force needed to shatter that damn glass. After a quick estimate of how many feathers he can get away with using, he readies them, and it all boils down this moment. If he can’t do this, you’ll both die. Both of your lives are at stake, resting on his weary shoulders. He can do this.

He has to.

“Wanna go home...wanna go...” You’re just murmuring to yourself, and it really puts Hawks on edge.

He hears the glass shatter before he sees it. He stumbles forward, wings still securely wrapped around you, and all but falls out of the edge of the window right before the rest of the floor collapses in on itself. He hears the devastation behind him, feels sparks on his back where the holes of his shirt meet the beginnings of his wings. He knows if he had hesitated or stayed any longer, neither of you would be alive right now.

Replacing his hold on you with his arms, he lets his wings drift open and prays he didn’t overdo it with the feathers, begs whatever gods may be listening that the two of you can at least slow the fall somehow. And to his pure joy and bliss, his wings, though bleeding and burnt and painful, are still very much holding up and allowing him to fly.

Now if he can manage to get you to a hospital...you’ll be just fine.

[peachiimilquetea]

i’m back!

hi everyone!! hiatus is officially over!!

so a few new housekeeping notes!

i changed my name!

i mostly did this in accordance with my side blog (which i’ll be talking about more in a little bit) but i also hated the name for a while and i think this suits me just a little bit more! all my links have already been changed so if anything on my masterlist is broken/leads to nowhere please let me know!!

i also changed my tags! so anyone who has my old nsfw tag blocked might want to update that, altho it might not be an issue later on down the line, as you can see by my next heading

i’m highly considering stopping making nsfw content

i think this is the biggest change that might be coming to this blog tbh. i’ve been thinking about it A LOT and the discourse is super conflicting on what is right and what’s not right

as much as i love to write smut, and nobody has directly come after me for writing smut, i keep seeing opinions and takes that are starting to make me want to quit it altogether. like apparently as a minor there are legal implications for me writing smut? which??? idk how true that is but it’s enough to make me more wary

the discourse around aging people up is also conflicting and confusing and the last thing i want to do it be on the wrong side of how to interact and behave in fandom spaces, especially being so new

furthermore, people don’t really go feral on my blog? like people don’t interact with my nsfw content all that often so i feel like it’s just there idk. maybe i’ll split the content into two blogs, maybe i’ll just private all of it and become purely sfw, idk im still thinking about it but i’ll let you know when i come to that decision

i will not be as active as i previously was

i hate to be so frank but the tumblr writing community is dying. nobody gets the interaction or hype that they deserve and it’s a huge blow to a writer’s morale to write something and barely get recognition

it’s not selfish for writers to feel this way and for this reason i won’t be posting as often or as regularly as i did previously. when i finish all requests and i open them up again, you probably won’t be getting it as quickly as you’ve seen in the past.

school is also starting up for me and it’s a very important one (senior szn or whatever) so i’m gonna be super busy with college stuff and AP classes and all the fun stuff that comes with being on the verge of adulthood

requests are actively being finished

this isn’t really a new thing, but i know there are at least two event requests that are in progress rn and one request for an orginal piece i wrote at the very beginning of my blog

i’ll tentatively open my requests up again really soon (probably with slots tbh) and we can move from there

i promise they’ll be done (one is already fully finished and formatted in my drafts), ive just been burnt out and really not feeling writing (hence the hiatus)

i’m making a sideblog!

yayyyy smth a little bit more lighthearted! i made a side blog! its callled @peachiimilquecoffee (see what i did there) and it’ll be a little bit more laid back, more behind the scenes, and maybe i’ll post more WIPs and sneak peeks there as well as the stuff that interests me so i don’t clog up your dash with random pointless stuff

i’m also probably gonna talk more about my original content, and post about my other interests. if you’re into that kinda thing just check my navi and it’ll be up sometime soon! i just finished setting up camp and getting my tags situated there and whatnot so come hang out!

closing

when i started this blog, i didn’t think i would get this far or even meet so many other people that i enjoy interacting with and seeing! i do want to stay here for as long as the site will let me, and as long as i feel welcome.

like i said previously, the writing community on tumblr feels like it’s dying, and it’s hard to make fan content unless you have a shit ton of followers that interact with you every day (and honestly some big blogs are struggling with a lack of boundaries as well).

all this to say, it often feels like there’s no winning. this is a tentative comeback, and i really hope something will change soon and making writing as fun as it was in the beginning for me. the hiatus was good for me to reset and be more inclined to get back in the groove.

thank you sm for your follows and your support! i really appreciate every single one of you and im looking forward to writing more stuff!