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#why is it I can write fanfic
ao3-crack · 2 years
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mrcatlion · 1 month
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I have been consuming Zack Lives AUs and would like to offer the headcannon: Zack keeps a habit of taking initiative for transporting Cloud to places even after Cloud wakes up. Usually grabbing and leading Cloud places, but sometimes ends up with Zack full on hoisting Cloud over his shoulder and starts walking.
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teddybeartoji · 8 months
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彡 GUARDIANS OF THE TINY SEA URCHIN BOY
☆. contains: satoru gojo x gn!reader; fluff!!!, non-curse au, idk what this timeline is but both reader and satoru are adults and gumi is tiny + reader is his kindergarten teacher wc: 3k
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you love you job.
you love taking care of the kids, teaching them, caring for them. and that of course applies for megumi, too. he's a pretty quiet kid, very straightforward and doesn't seem too affected by his guardian being away on a work trip when you ask him about it. you've never met the guy but it always makes you snicker whenever megumi's nose scrunches when he's brought up. or the little pout that tugs on his lips – the grumpiest and the fakest one to ever be conjured in the history of the world. you know it's fake; you've seen the care and devotion the little boy puts into the cards and the art he makes, always promising to show them to his keeper in a hushed voice.
but then one day... he's a quieter than usual, stares at you a little more than usual (he's so sure you don't see him)(or the way he's fiddling with the hem of his shirt). it's playtime and you're comfortably sitting in a bean bag, laughing with some other kids, eyeing the little sea urchin from the corner of your eye. after giving the other kids an impossible mission to complete outside, you usher the boy closer.
"gumi, come here."
and he does the cutest little eye roll known to mankind but nevertheless makes his way over to you. not pressuring him, you let him stand while you ask about the new comic book that came out (you heard him mention it once or twice) and oh, how his eyes widen. you surpress a giggle at the boy, and when you see his eyes flick between you and the bean bag you're sitting on, you finally motion for him to take a seat next to you. and he does.
he still feels a little unsure; like he wants to keep the information threathing to spill inside, despite the want to tell you all about it. seeing this, you decide to start talking about your own little hobby, doing big gestures as to try and crack a smile (it works)(he tries to hide it but you know better). and in the end he does relax and subconciously leans toward you when he starts introducing the comic.
digging out your phone, you let him show you the characters, the powers they have and how cool they all are. the smile on your face is making your cheeks hurt; glad that the boy feels secure and safe around you to tell you all this. some other kids bump in a few times, showing you the worms they dug up or beg for a napkin to wipe their face after they sneezed so hard that snot flew out. megumi's little scrunched up face only made you laugh more.
after a while you can feel him melt into you, his talk almost slurring, his eyes growing heavy. deciding to put away the phone, you move in your spot but a pair of hands clutch onto your arm. "'m not going anywhere." you assure him with a gentle smile as your hand finds its way into his hair, pushing through the unruly strands. he doesn't look at you, hiding his face into your shoulder.
"if i tell you something, do you promise you won't tell anyone?"
it's a ghost of a whisper, buried into the sleeve of your shirt. vulnerable.
"never. i would never."
it takes him another second to gather up the last pieces of confidence. the last pieces of strenght to open up his little tiny heart.
"i-i miss him." his little hands stay clutching onto your sleeve, not enough to stretch the material but just enough to let you know how hard this is for him. how he's taking the big step, how he's inviting you in with a shaky voice.
the hand in his dark hair never stops its movements, staying combing through it, feeling him nuzzle deeper into you. "oh, sweetheart. i'm sure you do." you hum quietly. "he's gonna be back really soon though. i promise."
you feel him nod against you. when another kid emerges from the outside, you quietly ask for her to whisper and swallow another giggle when she starts dramatically tiptoeing closer to you, ready to tie a newly made bracelet over your wrist. it's beautiful.
you stay like that for almost two hours – sitting in the bean bag with your arm locked securely in megumi's hold as he's letting out small little snores. you don't mind. you don't mind at all.
most of the kids have already left, their parents having come after them. they always greet you with a smile and thank you for keeping their kids happy and safe and it always warms your heart. there's nothing else you'd love more than this. and how the kids say bye... some of them hug you, some of them land a fat smooch on your cheek, one of them always shakes your hand (very firmly)(a lot of people could learn a thing from him). and all of them always wave with the brightest smiles on their faces.
you're eyeing the warm late afternoon sun from your spot on the bean bag when you hear the door open and close, a pair of loud footsteps approaching. megumi's guardian, surely.
tearing your eyes from the sun, you turn to meet the man and oh... his mouth is ajar as if he was about to yell out for megumi in the most dramatic way possible (he was). his crystal blue eyes shine in the very same light you were just basking in, taking in the sight before him. his lips close and reform into the warmest smile before he's whispers a small hi.
"hi." you answer with a smile of your own. nobody told you that he was gonna like that. sure, you've seen megumi's drawings but no offense to the boy – they do not do him justice. this has to be to most handsome guy you've ever seen. and he's your age, too. "you're here for megumi, right?"
he nods, leaning on the doorframe. "satoru."
after you introduce yourself, he repeats your name, tasting it on his tongue - and you're now stuck with the memory of one of the older faculty members saying something about how it's always very unprofessional to have crushes on the parents and whatnot. and whatnot.
he makes his way over – keeping his eyes on his beloved boy, sleeping oh, so comfortably in your arms. the way his chest is rising and falling steadyly, his fingers digging into your shirt. his heart swells.
kneeling in front of you, he smiles at the boy before turning his focus to his keeper. the golden sunlight is making your eyes shine and when you give him a shy little smile, he knows megumi is in safe hands.
"you're new?" he whispers.
"mhmm. and you don't actually have to whisper." satoru's eyes flick to megumi and you understand his question without him asking it. "oh, he's out. like a light. we've been sitting here for what?" you look at the clock before continuing. "two hours?"
satoru's smile widens at that. "he's kept you locked up for two hours?"
raising your hand from megumi's hair, you cover your mouth, hiding a grin. "he's cute, no harm done."
satoru hums. "he is. pretty sure you're the first teacher to see him like this."
"yeah." lowering your hand back down, you brush a few strands from his eyes, making his nose scrunch up and making the two of you swoon over the pouty kid. "i'm very honored."
satoru's eyes flick back to you. there's a certain softness in them, despite the deep dark purple peeking out from underneath the skin under them. you don't know what kind of a job he has but you know it sometimes requires him to be away for a while. it must be hard for him too; hard to leave his boy in some stranger's hands. but satoru is already convinced that you're no stranger.
"i'm glad he has you."
you feel a tint of blush making its way over your cheeks because of the sincerity in his tone. he really means it.
"but seriously, though? you've been sitting in the same spot for two hours? you're telling me your feet aren't dead?" he deadpans with a smirk.
lowering your head, you confess: "i have to go to the bathroom so badly."
he almost doubles over, holding a palm over his mouth, hiding the laughter ready to burst out. you try to glare at him but it's useless – you're holding your laughter with him a second after.
your body shakes with the giddyness, making megumi stir and you still. caressing his cheek, you try to make sure he ignores the two giggling adults next to him and stays asleep.
"and yes, my arm is dead but c'mon, how was i supposed to say no to this?" as if on cue, megumi lets out a content breath, his lips molding into his usual little pout, which in return makes the two of you look at him fondly. again.
"no, don't worry. i understand – he's a real charmer." he whispered. "what got him in this mood, anyway? nothing happened, right?" his eyes widen as the words leave his mouth, concern painting his face in a second.
trying to soothe his worry, you immediately shake your head. "no, no. he's okay. nothing happened." satoru exhales deeply, hand covering his heart. you don't think he even knows how worried he looked just now.
"but?" his voice breaks the small silence. "i feel like there's a 'but' here."
giving him a smile, you look the sleeping boy locked onto your arm. "i promised i wouldn't tell, though..."
"wha-?" the grown man's lip pull into a pout and you realize that the boy really does take after him. "but i need to know..."
deciding to make sure that megumi is still in fact, sleeping, you check his breathing – steady as ever, so you beckon the man a little closer.
"he missed you that's all."
it's so quiet. not even a whisper but satoru hears the words loud and clear. his eyes fall to his boy once more, something so tender in them – making your own heart beat a little louder. "but don't tell him i told you. i promised i wouldn't."
"never. i'd never take this from you." he rests his one hand beside your thigh on the bean bag, while the other goes to smooth over his cheek. the poor boy would die of embarrassment if he were to witness all this affection bestowed upon him. "thank you for telling me."
your gazes meet again, the love in them mixing together into a warm goo, filling the room and connecting the three of you forever.
"of course."
there's a comfortable silence between you and the man. a man you met mere minutes ago but when he bends over to pick up the bracelet made out of red string and continues to tie it back on your wrist without a word, you're certain you know him. or maybe knew him in another life; whatever the case, you were meant to meet again.
you thank him but he casually brushes it off as if it wasn't a big deal, as if he did it on instict, his fingers already itching to do things for you.
"is your bladder about to explode, by the way?" teasing. his tone is teasing and you can't help but reward him with another smile. his favourite pay.
"yes– yes, it fucking is." it takes you a second to realize what just slipped from between your lips. eyes growing twice their size as you stare back at satoru, who's, of course, already silently laughing, the corners of his lips reaching his ears. "you heard nothing."
"this is who's been taking care of the kids? wow, does the faculty know of the foul mouth you're sporting?"
"hey!" you whisper shout at him and before you can even register your own movements, your free hand lands a soft punch against his strong chest. it's always very unprofessional to have crushes on the parents. this time real heat paints your cheeks and the tips of your ears.
"sorry– i'm sorry." the only thing you can do is to mutter a quick apology - you're embarrassing yourself and you can't even run from it, the sleeping boy keeping you in your place and you're honestly ready to spiral because you just kind of hit (punched, even) him - this is definitely you crossing a line. and what if he really gets mad now and actually tells the faculty—
another wave of laughter breaks you from your thoughts. and then his own hand makes contact – landing firmly on your thigh; not to far up to make it like that but it's there to reassure that he's not a snitch of any kind and that's he's truly happy to have you as megumi's teacher. nothing better than having a real person looking after your boy.
but it is satoru gojo – it wouldn't be him if he didn't tease you properly at least once. "you're so cute like this. curses and hits being thrown here and there, whew! a great rolemodel for the kids, for sure."
you're burning up, almost afraid that you'll wake gumi with the heat emitting from your body. satisfied with the result, satoru gives your thigh a squeeze. "i'm kidding, i'm kidding. no harm done, right?"
he's gazing at you, borderline burning his eyes into yours with a sly smirk and now you also understand why megumi keeps calling his guardian very annoying every chance he gets.
"yeah." you quirp. "anyway, my ass is getting really sore now, so i think it's best to-" in attempt to escape the stealth attack on your heart, you try to change the topic, even when the weight of satoru's eyes stays on you for a second longer.
you shift your gaze to megumi, raising your hand to his face, gently tracing down his nose and booping it. you brush more of his hair from his face, trying to pull him from his dreamland as softly as you can. "megumi, look, who's here...."
his lips press into another pout as you land a second boop on his nose, finally making him stir. his eyes open ever so slowly, gazing up at you as he raises his fist to rub out the sleep.
"hey, gumi."
satoru's voice stills the boy. his body doesn't move, his eyes alone turning from you to the source of the voice. and the second his green eyes meet the blue ones – he's burying his face into the crook of satoru's neck. you observe their little reunion; megumi's hands are so tight around his neck, most certainly choking the man but he doesn't mind. he doesn't mind at all. satoru's arms wrap around the boy, holding him safe and sound right to his chest, to his heartbeat.
"missed me?"
megumi grumbles something into him, something unintelligible but most definitely something that resembles a kid's insult. satoru's mischievous eyes meet yours and you bite your lip, trying to look as stern as possible when the both of you know that you're just holding back another beautiful smile.
"let's go home, yeah?"
megumi nods as satoru stands with the boy in his arms. when you start pushing yourself up, he lends you a hand - his warm fingers easily engulfing yours in a quick motion. the touch lingers, skin on skin longer than needed. neither of you say comment on it – the butterflies in your stomach would gladly do all of the talking for you. you walk them to the door, staring at the sleepy little megumi, who's glancing at you over satoru's shoulder every two seconds.
you hand satoru megumi's pack and then gently place his jacket over his shoulders before giving one final rub on his back. "be good, yeah?"
he hums back, green eyes finding safe haven in yours. another smile is threathing to show when you wink at him, so he buries himself back into satoru's neck, making the man laugh loudly. this is the first time you hear it for real. it ripples through his whole body, his chest –shaking megumi as it does, it bounces off the walls of the room and finds its way to you and your ears. it's irresistible – you can't not respond with the same when he does it, the current just pulling you along. and it'll keep you for a long time.
"it was nice to meet you. finally."
"oh, you've been waiting for this?"
...
yeah, you walked right into that one, you admit your unfortune, but luckily megumi is there to save you by giving him a hard nudge on the back.
"okay, okay, little guy.... can't even hit on his teachers in peace..." he sighs, earning a way stronger hit and a way darker blush on your cheeks. "it was really nice meeting you too. finally."
you give him a small nod, fingers playing with the bracelet. you watch him carry the boy toward the door, ready to go home and calm your heart.
"wait-" satoru turns just as he steps outside into the sunlight. his eyes shine now even more than they did inside, almost blinding you. "how come you're not running to the bathroom? i thought you were dying."
"well, i was trying to be polite and wait until you leave, so you know..." lowering your voice, you tell him: "fuck off already." flashing him one final smile, the one he's gonna think about for the rest of the night (for the rest of many many nights), you motion for him to move along.
a quick little bye is all he gets before you close the door after him, leaving him standing in from of the house with a stupid smitten grin on his face. if it weren't for megumi, he'd probably stay standing there. "they said fuck." the boy whispers.
"fuck yeah." he laughs before he ruffles megumi's hair, finally making their way over to his car. "by the way, you're an awful wingman, buddy..."
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zephyrchama · 5 months
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Asmodeus being overly expectant that MC is going to propose to him any day now for no reason.
It’s a quiet evening and the two are lazing around on the bed in Asmodeus’s room. New skin mask pouches have been opened and applied. New issues of each of the Devildom’s most popular fashion magazines lay scattered around.
MC rolls over until they bump into Asmodeus’ thigh and raise their magazine. “Hey, Asmo. What do you think of--” ”Yes.” There is no hesitation. “Yes, I think we should.”
Asmodeus throws down the magazine he was looking at to lean over and pepper MC’s face with kisses. “Let’s get engaged, right now!”
“Oh, okay, cool. I was just wondering what you thought of this top.”
“Oh... It’s kind of tacky. You’re not wearing that to our wedding, right?”
----
It’s dinnertime and, as usual, everyone is gathered around the large dining room table. MC is across the table and several seats down from Asmodeus, with most of his brothers seated between them.
MC’s plate is almost empty. They give the table a once-over look before deciding on a course of action that requires interrupting the current conversation.
“Pardon me, Asmo, will you-”
Asmodeus squeals and kicks his feet. “Yes! A thousand times, yes! Of course I’ll marry you!”
“Wait, no that’s not what--”
“What!?” Mammon shouts, much to the chagrin of Lucifer next to him.
“In your dreams, maybe,” Belphegor quips.
Leviathan looks like he’s about to start crying.
Satan and Beelzebub, sane enough to not jump to conclusions, seem to piece together the situation. Together they work to pass MC a plate of dinner rolls that had been in front of Asmodeus.
“This what you wanted?” Satan asks.
“Yes, I was just asking for these,” MC sighs. Bread will serve nicely to sop up the remaining sauce on their plate. “Thanks.”
Asmodeus responds, “we can serve them at the reception, I think that’s fine.”
Mammon tells him to “get yer head out of the clouds, Asmo, nobody’s marrying you.”
Their mutual glares practically send sparks across the table.
“Pass them back this way,” Beelzebub requests, wanting three more for himself.
----
It’s the middle of the school day. MC pops their head into a classroom. This time they've mentally prepared.
“Asmo, do you wanna-”
"Yes? Yes! I’ll marry you.” As predicted, Asmodeus runs over and winds his arms around MC’s waist. He presses his forehead against theirs and leans them back into a dip. Several students clap. “Proposing to me at school? How brazen.”
“Well, maybe this time I’ll actually think about it, but you have to take me out for lunch first. Deal?”
Asmodeus looks somewhat stunned. He parts his lips and thinks over the proposition while staring into MC’s eyes, searching for any hint of a lie.
“Wait… Really?” He pulls MC back up and takes them by the wrist. “What are you waiting for? Let’s go!”
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teastainedprose · 6 months
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Homelander x fem!reader
Homelander cumming in a pair of readers panties and reader finding out and wearing them in public or to work around Homelander
No explicit sex, but- What if cum sock, but it's panties? I didn't proofread this. Undercooked smut, whore(affectionate) used.
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Homelander is disgusting, is your first thought as you pick up a pair of your panties. They're crunchy. None of that discharge is yours. You make certain to wash that pair twice.
The second time it happens you're annoyed. Third time? You're resigned to your fate. Now? It's expected. It's not as if you can ask the fucking Homelander to stop fapping with your panties
Sometimes the panties are clearly coated in a suspicious glaze, others there's only the barest scent of him before you toss the panties into the laundry bin. Those you don't mind so much. For the most part, you're resigned to your fate. 
Homelander is a territorial creature. The man likes to mark you in any way he can. Sinking his teeth in a little too hard. Fingers digging in a little too tight. Practically rubbing himself against you as if to mark you with his scent and of course making certain your always stuffed full of his cum.
Thus it should be no surprise that the moment you walk into the penthouse that afternoon?
Homelander pounces you, strips you, and fucks you as if he hasn't seen you in weeks. It was four hours, jesusfuck you needy little- It's no surprise that even after your rough fucking? -because this round certainly was a rough fuck He still manages to find time to soil your panties. The ones you had carefully taken off and set aside before going at it like animals not even a full thirty minutes ago. The lacey number that matches your bra and won't show a pantyline in the dress you plan to wear tonight. Those panties.
The crime is committed while you were in the shower cleaning up, as there's a charity ball you two must make an appearance at tonight. The culprit has already fled the scene, of course. Bastard.
You pluck up your clearly wrung out panties, inspecting them. A visual once over reveals that at least your lovemaking had robbed Homelander the ability to truly mark up this pair. At worst, they reek of sex and him. Even your perfectly average nose can smell Homelander on the fabric. His super-abled nose would be able to smell it a mile away, you muse.
You pause, eyes on the panties as you turn over that fact in your mind. A low chuckle escapes you as you wriggle back into the panties. 
It doesn't take long to get dolled up for the event as you make yourself presentable post-shower. You're polished, clean, and looking flawless. You smile at your reflection in one of the many mirrors within Homelander's penthouse before making your way to the elevator.
As you enter the party, Homelander isn't hard to pick out. He's the one in the middle of it all with a flock of sycophants simpering about the supe's feet. They know by now to part in your wake, placid smiles in place that never reach their eyes. Yet, they bow and scrape to you as well. No one would dare give offense to you or get between the Homelander and his woman.
You glide into Homelander's open arms as he throws you a winning smile, finger crooked for you to come closer. You obey, sliding an arm behind his back as his cape flutters with the movement while he tugs you closer into his side. "Missed you," He breathes as he leans closer.
The moment Homelander registers what you've done is obvious to you. His pupils blow out and there's an imperceptible tightening about the give of your waist under his gloved fingertips. He inhales deeper, leaning in to ghost his lips over your forehead as he does so. To onlookers, Homelander is a chaste and affectionate boyfriend. Only you are close enough to hear the growl on his exhale.
You grin wickedly up to Homelander, mirth dancing in your eyes. "You just saw me, you know." You mutter as you tilt your chin up, regarding him. Idly, you start to trace patterns at the small of his back with fingertips. Given your cheeky mood, you slide your palm down and give his backside an affectionate squeeze under the cover of his cape.
Homelander has to bite his bottom lip, swallowing down an eager noise as he shoots you a dangerous look. The sort that says you're going to get it later. Your grin only grows wider, because the event has only started and you know Homelander can't escape yet.
There's a speech to give, investors to schmooze, and rich bastards to wring dry all in the name of charity. Homelander performs admirably, playing the perfect boy scout as with you draped on his arm. His hands never stray from your waist, endlessly chaste. You know it's because if he lets them roam further up or down, Homelander will lose control and then where would you be?
Well- 
Enjoying yourself for certain, but you've never been one for public sex.
The hours crawl on and you can see your choice to throw Homelander's mess back under his nose is an effective one. The small twitches, how he keeps inhaling deeply any time he leans close, how Homelander can't help but nuzzle into your neck every chance he gets with a storm cloud in his eyes.
This'll be a fun night.
The moment Homelander is let off the event's leash, he's all but dragging you to the elevator and mashing the button to the top floor. He doesn't even wait for the elevator's doors to fully shut before he's on you with a growl. Homelander is hiking up your dress in a flash to see what's underneath. His suspicions are confirmed. Those are the panties he used to work himself off one last time before heading down to the charity event.
"I knew it. You little whore," He chides affectionately as Homelander backs you up against the elevator wall. Those hands are ghosting around the edges of your panties before he unceremoniously yanks them down.
"It's your mess," You shoot back, smirking up at him.
"M'gonna make you such a mess," Homelander purrs back as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, deftly lifting you up with one hand while the other works at the bucket of his belt with practiced ease. You laugh gleefully because Homelander is always a man of his word when it comes to properly ruining you.
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leighsartworks216 · 8 months
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> Stopped writing my fic because I got too tired
> Laid down in bed
> Cannot stop thinking about my fic
> Keeps working on it in my notes app
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oxenfreeao3 · 1 year
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There aren't many hobbies out there that are free to do, inherently creative, and capable of bringing joy to people all across the globe.
But that's why I love writing fanfiction.
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morinuu · 9 months
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✩|takashi x reader drabble bc ive been having takashi brainrot. 358 words, fluffy :3
it wasn't often when takashi showed his raw emotions, but when he did, you welcomed it.
it wasn't as scary as the others made it seem, even though it was kinda freaky at first. to you, it just proved how comfortable he was to open up and show his exhaustion to his girlfriend.
so when he found you at your usual spot under a tree behind the school one day and smiled softly at you, you couldn't reject him. "hey, sweetheart." he muttered and sat on the grass before laying his head on your lap.
"hey." you whispered to him and ran your fingers through his hair to hear him sigh in relief. "you alright, takashi?"
all you got in response was a soft hum, followed by his eyes shutting slowly. you didn't know if you wanted to kiss him passionately and catch him by surprise or hold him closer. maybe both.
"you shouldn't sit on the grass." you smiled a bit, amused at the thought of his pants becoming slightly green. from his silence though, you assumed he didn't care.
some more quiet moments passed with you staring at the 'scary' takashi morinozuka; who had the most gentle sleepy expression on his face. you didn't often have these moments considering his busy schedule and lack of privacy, so you both decided to enjoy it like it's treasured.
"how was judo?" you asked quietly, not wanting to disturb the huge man who somehow seemed tiny in your lap with his arms wrapped around your hips and his face buried in your tummy.
"good, tiring." he answered curtly, wanting nothing more than to take a nap inhaling your scent - one of the rare times he was hoping his dear cousin wouldn't come looking for him.
you took his hand in your own and gave it a small kiss. "we have class in 10 minutes." you reminded him, much to his dismay.
that was the first time you skipped class to stay with your tired boyfriend in your embrace, wondering if your parents would learn about it and scold you.
but he was takashi morinozuka, and who dares defy his will? definitely not you.
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anlian-aishang · 1 month
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Levi with an (Episodically) Depressed S/O
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Tags: levi x reader, angst, hurt-comfort, gn!reader Word count: 900
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Levi invites you to shower with him, making the obstacle less daunting and much more attractive. In his black robe, leaning on your bedroom door, two towels slung over his arm indicate the knowledge that you will say yes and accompany him. The way that he looks, the low plea in his voice, how could you say no? 
It would be more accurate to say that he was bathing you, but he does not phrase it that way. Instead, he is humble, letting his actions speak louder than words. He does not tell you that he will shampoo your matted hair, does not flaunt how deliberately he exfoliates your limbs, he just does them for you. Some days, even just tipping the bottle or pumping some soap into your hand can seem mountainous. On those days, he sees those activities not as tasks, but as privileges. It is his honor to be the one looking after you in your most dire time. He would always prefer someone to take care of rather than someone to miss. 
Showering together not only ensures that you stay clean, but his company prevents you from those timeless sessions sat on the tile floor. At the moment you look refreshed but before you become sleepy, he jerks the handle to the left and halts the devastatingly relaxing rain. 
Always, your clean clothes are already folded atop the bathroom counter, waiting for you. Some times, you fail to remember that you did not put them there. Other times, you notice the sign of his relentless consideration, but are artificially silenced from expressing your gratitude. No matter in his mind. You are clean, clothed, and out of bed, and that’s already better than you were before. 
Without one complaint, Levi scoops your dampened towel and old clothes from the wet bathroom floor and drops them in the hamper for you. He has seen the piles that can amass, and if it were anyone else in any other circumstance, the clean freak would be quick to chastise, but any sight or thought of you disintegrates any instinct to discipline. You are sat in the living room, admiring the ivy that swirls around the balcony’s posts, thumbing the petals of the bouquet vased on the coffee table. White-gold rays move just a tad west to cast your figure in therapeutic light. You’re too tired to move away from the sun, and for once, Levi finds your fatigue favorable. As the morning temperature rises, he can see that your resting smile does as well. 
While you are entranced with the scenes of summer, Levi swiftly searches for and alleviates the areas you have left neglected. He dumps your sock drawer upside down and mends the pairs that you have discarded as singles. In your closet, he finds the clean pile and dirty pile and either folds it or washes it accordingly. Under your bed, on your nightstand, in your bedside drawer, he discovers the dirty dishes that have been missing the sink and returns them to their proper place. 
Between those tasks, he rolls his shoulders back or rubs the side of his neck and allows himself to sigh. It is difficult - not to bandage these tiny wounds - but to see the harsh bruises left by the illness. Sure, you were forgetful, and not quite as tidy as he was, but still - the mounds of laundry, hidden dirty dishes - this wasn’t like you. Levi lives for your joy - not the superficial smile, your peace - not the misleading silence. He lives for you - in sickness and in health. The times you forget your worth, that is when he whispers it in your ear. When the world is overwhelming you, he lets his touch communicate it. 
Once your space is in order, he can start to work on getting you to leave it. Rather than annoying reminders or obligations, he mindfully manipulates the steps of treatment into desirable invitations. Rather than Do you want to… or Would you like to…, his proposals are statements, taking the responsibility out of your hands. Concerts in the park this afternoon. Let’s go to the farmers market. Apple orchard just opened.
Or even less far away. 
Plants look thirsty, water them with me? Rain just cleared, read on the porch with me? Full moon tonight, stargaze with me?
To you, with me frames the activities, frames your presence as favors for him, and even in your lowest state, you are always keen to help him with anything. To Levi, it is no framing, your relationship is the greatest gift that fate has bestowed on him, and he treats you as such. It is in his selfless actions and his careful words, but it is more than that, traits you can’t quite categorize. The near flat, subtle smile you wake up to in the morning. The tight yet painless combs through your hair that leave you feeling divine. The low, calming timbre of his voice, decorated with a tender tone that he reserves for you. 
Even before the haze you’re in now, you’ve never been able to label those qualities of his, and instead settled: it’s just who he is. 
Like the sentiment that motivates his care: it’s what you deserve. 
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// masterlist //
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frownyalfred · 1 year
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Things you might not realize are affecting your ao3 readership:
Putting unrelated fics into one compilation instead of series or collections
Not tagging your fics/“haha I’m so bad at tagging!”
Tagging all of the ships in a fandom instead of the relevant ones to the story
“This is my first fic ever”/ “I’m really not a good writer” / “sorry if this is crap”
Summaries that say “sorry don’t think I will update much” or “might be abandoned idk”
Tagging “r@pe” or “unaliving” etc instead of the actual tag so people can filter/exclude
NOT tagging major, relevant tags or kinks without using the “creator chose not to use archive warnings” option
Telling people how bad your writing is and how you hate it so much and how they shouldn’t even be reading your fic (self deprecation)
Weird punctuation: not starting new quotes or descriptions on a new line, and/or putting extremely long blocks of text on the page without a break
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flashypunches · 3 months
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( REUPLOAD I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED IT im so sorry )
You're someone who's held great resentment for your godfather.
For your first meeting, for his ego, for his murderous intent towards your father.
For his failure to provide comfort or understanding when your parents refused you as a son, when your friends have left you as a corpse.
You suffer through long years, sticking with him through thick and thin, because he’s the only one like you, the only other Death refused to take.
( The daughter he made, the cousin you mourned, Dani, is gone. She will not return to either of you. It is always his fault. )
Because he’s all you have left. The only one who wouldn't refuse you.
He moves you to a city that matches your dreary state. Vigilantes take residence, closing in on crime. Closing in on your godfather.
Vlad leaves. He doesn’t take you with him.
He leaves you his wealth, a place in a school that makes you miss home, and an order to never speak to the ones who made him run– the Waynes.
He doesn’t return. Never properly. You make due with phone calls and brief visits every now and then. You don’t mind, you preferred this more than his haphazard attempts at providing companionship when it was too late.
Your schoolmates does not like you. That is okay, even if it leaves you longing for friends.
( Sam and Tucker are in Amity and will stay there until they die. They would never come and visit a corpse like you. Not when you desecrate their friend's body, parading it around, like you're him. They know who you really are. They've always known, they just couldn't see sense before. )
But you find someone who could be one.
He is prickly, rude, disliked less, but disliked nonetheless. But he is the only other person who does not care about your worn out shoes, for your scars, your clammy skin, all the things that made your parents refuse you as a son, as sentient— or about you coming in the middle of the school year.
You care not about his attitude, desperation clawing at your mind for any form of socialization not from Vlad or who he calls company.
You make quick work of befriending him, a shared rivalry for an annoying schoolmate pulling you close together.
You learn his interests, his pets, his family. You know his name but do not ask for it. Willful ignorance could be considered bliss. Just for a moment.
He lets you stay at his house for a night, though his siblings push the matter more enthusiastically. You do not see his father.
( “He’s on a business trip.” Daniel blinks, looking up at his friend.
“Who?” he asks, despite knowing there’s only one person that Damian could be referring to.
Damian tsked automatically, “My father, you imbecile. He will return in two weeks notice.”
Daniel thinks of his godfather, of his various excuses over the years to many people, including him. But instead of telling Damian the likely truth, that his father won’t return, never like how his best friend wants him too, an “Okay” comes out in place of it.
Let him bask in ignorance, Daniel tells himself, Let your friend have this. )
His father comes back. You don’t call Vlad when he forgets you. For all he wanted you as a son, now he never tries to treat you as such.
You continue the cycle of avoiding an empty house, of sleep-overs, of waiting for something to happen.
And something does. Your godfather comes back. He lies to you that he won’t leave again. He says that he will stay longer, that the family who tried to run him out won’t succeed again.
You do not think of your best friend. Why would he even care?
Your godfather treats you like he had before, when you still had your friends, your home. Like you are a misbehaving child, and him, the tired parent.
( Shouts of an argument ring from an dead manor, before being shut out to the upstairs.
Daniel slammed the door, not caring if Vlad had heard it or not. Ancients, he'd forgotten how much of an utter fruit-loop Vlad was. He gritted his teeth, rubbing the bruise left on his wrist by the man.
Why'd he expect anything different? Vlad was just going to be his usual nutty self, and go back to treating him like he was still some misguided kid, that he would just come around to playing nice with Vlad.
The wood of the door was smooth, most likely sanded down from any splinters by the past families who lived here. Daniel moved his fingers along the grooves, faintly remembering how he had done this before, when he was better. He bit his tongue, ignoring the bitter taste of ectoplasm it brought forth.
He hadn't thought of who he was before since he'd ran. He hadn't been this angry at Vlad since he ran. He hadn't felt so like himself after he ran.
Daniel would be lying if that thought didn't make him feel just a little bit better.
He let his head fall into his knees, back leaning against the wooden door, limbs sagging. He did not cry, because the Danny from the empty home did not do that. )
It irks you, but not like before. Maybe you were doing something right if he’s treating you like this now, treating you normally. Maybe you’re back to who you were before, before the rejection scarred you.
Damian notices the change in your personality, as you notice his change in costume. He is on the rooftops, in the streets, cloaked in muted colors, not unlike your own old costume, and his family knows your godfather is back.
When you come back to school after a week of Vlad trying to bond with you without success, Damian doesn’t say a word about your godfather.
You don’t either. What even is there to say?
“Oh, I know that you are investigating my godfather, and that you’re a vigilante, surprise!”
You would have been killed ages ago if that was your response.
Your friend does not invite you over anymore. You know why, understand why but it still stabs your core, in the way a butter knife does to wood. Dents it but does not cut.
You repeat the loop of boring conversation, of stilted companionship. You grow tired of it, as you always do.
Vlad's signature is easy to forge. You get to skip your classes under the guise of it being a family emergency.
( Damian is near the gate when he gets off the bus. Daniel's ratty sneakers are hitting the ground, as he walks over to him.
The weight of his backpack feels heavy, the evidence that Daniel had stuffed inside not helping his back. Damian twirls around at his steps, a scowl already on his lips.
Daniel smiles back, readjusts the straps on his shoulders. He whispers to Damian, uncaring of the fight currently breaking out in the front, the fight that Damian is watching, "I'm getting out of school today, wanna come with?"
His friend tears his eyes away from the brawl, looking intrigued at Daniel's offer.
Damian considers the chance. The thought of having to sit through another day of school with only Jon for mild company sickens him.
"I suppose I can, though if this is a trap Masters, then let it be known that—"
"Yeah, yeah, I get it, you in still?" Daniel flashes his (only) friend a cheesy grin, ignoring Damian's eye-roll at his theatrics.
"..Yes."
-
The route to the local park is quick, though slowed by the need to be away from the public's eyes, lest they be caught right away in their venture.
Daniel gasps in a breath, ancients, did he need to jog way more. Damian easily strides beside him, the only sign that he was showing off being the smug gleam in his green eyes. Bastard.
The papers, the records, the flash-drive, all weigh down his back. Vlad has definitely noticed them missing, and he most definitely knows who took them.
But Daniel didn't care, not right now, because right now, he was spending time with his bestest friend in the whole wide world, and he'll deal with Vlad later. )
You drag Damian over to a secluded bench, taking no mind to the mutations Poison Ivy has given the plants near. The backpack is emptied, and you guide your only friend to the path that leads to Vlad's destruction.
The dread fades away, the high of adrenaline taking its place, at the crimes left behind in pieces, put back together in a backpack, and let loose into the hands of your only friend.
It feels good, like something’s been taken off your shoulders. You know that Vlad has anticipated you telling someone about what he’s done. He’s still not leaving.
Your high is running down, as you start to beg Damian not to arrest him, lying to your only friend that Vlad is a better man, and doesn't deserve to rot in a cell. You know that when you take a separate route to your homes, that he’ll tell anyway.
You can’t bring yourself to care. Vlad’ll just weasel out of it, as he always does.
He knows what you did, doesn’t bring it up, with the only sign being a watchful eye whenever you’re back in his grasp.
You get invited to a gala by your friend. You accept, uncaring of Vlad's reaction.
Your friend gets held ransom. No one’s worried, no one feels anything but annoyance. You stay away, not wanting to feel your core straining to help, to protect.
The Bats swoop in to help. You ignore the envy at their luck at having a team of other heroes to depend on.
( Your friend ) The Waynes send people after your godfather. He tries to bribe his way out of the charges, out of the jail cell that cannot hold him. They leave with him in tow.
You start staying overnight at your friend’s house even more. Damian doesn’t say a word about it.
His father does. His siblings do.
They talk about adopting you, they fight about Vlad, about what they are meant to do with your godfather, and what to do with poor old Danny. You don’t listen in much. They remind you of your parents, just a little bit. It hurts.
Vlad is let go. False charges, apparently. You know he just bribed the judge and juries.
He wants to talk to you, intent on having a conversation that lasts more than five minutes without shouting and tears ending it.
I'm sorry for not being there, please, give me forgiveness, are the only things you remember from the conversation. You do not give him what he wants, but the conversation doesn't end in slammed doors and withheld tears.
You sleep under his roof for the first time in weeks, the most civil conversation you’ve ever been with him looping in your mind. You even wonder if he’ll let you go to your friend’s birthday party.
You don’t sleep at your friend’s house as much. There’s not much need to anymore.
You wake up one night, to hear the sounds of ectoblasts and footsteps. They are on the roof, and you know what they’re here for.
You go ghost, going up the roof, watching invisibly as Plasmius shoots at the vigilantes who yell about something. You stay like that for a moment. You almost decide to let him go.
He's the only one you have left, to leave him, to abandon him, is to leave the last person in your corner. That thought is the only reason why you lift your thermos up, capturing Vlad in one fell swoop, before he leaves too.
The vigilantes are not pleased, as the Bat barks out orders to find you. You can imagine Vlad is the same, fuming at your disrespect inside the can.
With Vlad in your thermos, the Bats on your tail, there is no hope in your mind of getting out of Gotham with everything you need.
Oh Danny, what are you going to do?
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aesterblaster · 3 months
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Sleepin Demons
How Blue Lock characters wake up from nightmares/How you can comfort them [Gender neutral reader]
Tropes: Reverse Comfort, Fluff/Angst, Established Relationship, and general warnings for some gore and mentions of flashbacks along with implied sexual harassment
Characters: Almost All Of Them Lol
Songs: Insecure - Bren Joy // Coffee for Dinner - Orion Sun // Broken Clocks - SZA
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The Silent Type + Actual Memories
It's the same one again. He's right back where he started. Unloved, unknown, left out of everything. The pangs of hunger run through him like a freight train as he desperately runs from room to room in his childhood home...But there's no nourishment. Someone calls his name but all he feels is fear at being recognized, he cowers as a figure rounds the corner and says his name again. "You think you could get away from me? Huh?" It could be anyone, a parent, someone he used to owe money to, an old abusive coach, all he knows is what comes next is going to hurt. "Are you fucking crying? You're so pathetic, soon everyone else will see that just like I always have!" The floor begins to sag and give way, everything creases in on itself. His brain feels like it's going to explode.
When he wakes up- his brain still feels as if it's too big for his skull, pushing against the edges like it's trying to find its way out. But he doesn't groan in pain, and he doesn't move. You're next to him after all, breathing softly. The moonlight grounds him, your hand against his side grounds him, he is safe now. The best thing you can do is stay asleep. He isn't ready to talk and admit that he's weak (or even worse...the fact that it is okay to be weak sometimes), not yet. For now he just snuggles against you and quietly brushes away any residual tears, thanking everything he believes in that he's here with you now.
Kaiser, Hiori, Naruhaya, Noa, Lorenzo
The Silent Type + More Abstract Fears
Slow. Everything was moving so fucking slow around him. His body was falling apart. Every sinew, every cell, every fucking atom of his being was breaking down and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Was this what he was truly destined for, dust to dust? Strangely enough, it didn't hurt, everything was calm. He was dying, so what? Every star burns out. And then, as sharp as a clap of thunder, the pain arrived. In his heart, not his body. Images of friends, family, trophies, all the things he hadn't done yet and you surged through his head. No, he couldn't die, not yet! He gripped his arm, but it was already turning to dust. Irrelevant and forgotten.
He's almost surprised when he wakes up, remembers that that would be impossible. Wants to scoff at himself for being afraid of something that could never happen. But the truth is, he is going to die someday, no matter how big of a star he is. He watches you twitch in your sleep, obviously disturbed by how he jerked awake, and curls his arms around you. He presses his face to the top of your head and breathes you in, silently begging you to drift back into a deeper sleep. He just needs to savor every moment with you and stop worrying, he tells himself.
Snuffy, Nagi, Ego, Aryu, Reo, Kuon, Chris, Jin
Wakes Up Screaming + Needs Reassurance
Why was this happening? You were in his arms, covered in blood, he was covered in blood; It was everywhere. The cheering from the fans turned into screaming, that's when he should've stopped and had the damn sense to look around. Instead, he kept running and dribbling down the field, confused why nobody was stopping him. He didn't see you falling from the stands until you were right in front of him. Your arm twisted first, then your neck, the rest of you followed. Why was this happening? "No, no, no, no...(Y/N). Get help! What the fuck are you all standing around for?!" He took off his jersey and tried to stop the bleeding but it wasn't enough, you were already going cold. He was powerless.
"I said get help-!!" he roared. "Oh..oh fuck." He suddenly wasn't holding your limp body anymore, he was in his- your room. The smell of blood disappeared. He glanced over and made eye contact with you. "Are you okay? You're shaking like a leaf!" "No..can you, can you just come here?" He crushes you in a bear hug as soon as you do. Even when he lets up, he opts to hold your hand instead. He makes you tell him about your day, because he got in late when you were already asleep. He tells you how much he loves you and recounts the day you two met just to stop his heart from bursting. "S-sorry I woke you up, I just- I needed that."
Ness, Niko, Aoshi, Sendo, Gagumaru, Igaguri, Kurona
Wakes Up Screaming + Needs Some Space
The first thing he notices is that he can't breathe. The second thing he notices is that he is in a hospital. "No, I don't think he will ever be able to speak or move again." a voice he doesn't recognize claims. Someone is choking him and he can't stop them. It's himself, rabid, foaming at the mouth. The doppelganger realizes he's been caught and tightens his grip. "That's right, that's what you fucking get for ignoring yourself. You don't even fucking eat enough and you want to be a star, huh? You keep betraying yourself." His neck is lifted from the cold pillow. "And betraying yourself!" It's slammed back down. He wants to tell him to stop, to say anything, but he can't.
He wakes up like he's been jolted back to life by electricity, doesn't even realize he's screaming. "Baby, baby you're okay! It's okay." He feels your hands around him and feels ashamed instead of relieved. What the fuck was that?! "Just go back to sleep, I'll be back." You open your mouth to argue but he shakes his head. "Please." This is nothing you can help him with, he needs to take care of himself and he knows it. Can't keep relying on others to pull him out. He takes a cold shower and comes back to bed hours later, slipping next to you. "I'm sorry I scared you." is all he says as his hands glide over your back. It's best if you just accept his apology, you'll never fully understand the war he's having with himself.
Chigiri, Kenyu, Kunigami, Kira, Sae, Barou
You Wake Him Up + It's Not Okay
Of course he knows this is a fucking dream, how could it not be? The overwhelming lights, the strange woman putting her hands on his chest. He knows exactly what this is about too. The paparazzi have gotten way too comfortable following both you and him around, they keep asking invasive questions and posting up outside of your house. The lack of privacy should be illegal. "You're famous now, you should like this you ungrateful piece of shit." a voice hisses in his ear as another pair of hands massages his shoulders. He tenses and struggles, but more hands appear, grabbing at his clothes. They tear pieces away from him with no remorse and something deep inside of him wishes it could end- Scratch that, every part of him wishes this would end, the violation, the rumors, the-
"Hey! Are you alright? I think..I think that you were having a nightmare." He gasps, so the feeling of hands on his chest were yours. Everything that was tensed relaxes, it was just you. That doesn't stop all his feelings from welling up along with tears. "Can you not touch me right now?" God, he wishes you wouldn't look at him like that. "Are you crying?" "No." He slips out of bed and checks the curtains, he can't shake the feeling of foreign hands on every part of him, not just his chest. Disgust curls and uncurls in his stomach. Why couldn't he just fight back on his own in his own damn head? "There's no one out there-" "How do you know!? Huh?" he demands, a whole lot louder than he meant to. "Fuck wait..I'm sorry. This week has just been a lot." You two end up having a long and needed talk that night.
Lavinho, Reo, Oliver, Rin, Raichi, Tabito
You Wake Him Up + It's Okay
He has been walking in circles for hours. Each loop, though, something changes. At first it was funny, (someone's head would balloon to an impossible size or a sign would read a curse word instead of an actual street name, for example) but now he was just tired. He couldn't sit down though or this burning pain would shoot through him...Just like in the real world, if he ever stopped shining, if he ever stopped moving forward, he'd get this feeling like he wasn't doing enough. Even on vacations there would be a gnawing sense that he was running from his rightful title. All he needed was the spotlight, even if it took so much fucking effort to get there. Practicing the same kicks over and over again, walking in circles, looking for what would excite him next-
"Please stop kicking me..." you groan and he wakes up instantly. Honestly, he didn't realize how terrifying his dream was until he's lucid. "Was I kicking you? Sorry... I just had the weirdest dream, it was like I kept walking in circles and I couldn't stop." "Maybe that's your brain telling you to take a break and stop treating my shin like a soccer ball." You two continue to make light of it and the more he talks about it with you, the more relaxed he gets. He's going to be just fine, especially with you by his side. "Mnh, good night." you finally whisper, cuddling up against him and tangling your leg with his in a final attempt to prevent any future attacks. "Good night." He watches you fall asleep with love in his eyes and wonders how a job obsessed weirdo like him managed to land someone as perfect as you.
Bachira, Loki, Isagi, Shidou, Nanase, Otoya, Zantetsu,
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sugusearrings · 10 months
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( ' glass children. ' )
violet wrists and then her ankles, silent pain. then he slowly saw their nightmares were his dreams. monster, how should I feel? creatures lie here, looking through the windows i will hear their voices. i'm a glass child, i am hannah's regrets.
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— summary: with the star plasma vessel dead, satoru and suguru need you (fem!reader) to lead them to their next path. — genre: angst. heartbreak. — playing: monster by meg & dia — note(s): i'm a sucker for what ifs. i love what ifs. good and bad. i thought about this what if a lot. i wanted to write about this since halloween and didn't have time to post it. i just know suguru and satoru are better than me cause everyone would have gotten this smoke. that's all imma say. anyways, mentions of blood & death. probably some spelling errors here and there. — word count: 866
Those beautiful cerulean blue hues still sparkled as the light down on them.
But the spark of life was gone. They were dull. Lifeless. Emotionless. You never saw them like this before.
You could feel the anxiety swallowing you whole. If someone looked closely, they can see your legs trembling slightly. The two boys in front of you were having a brief conversation but you couldn’t hear it. You couldn’t hear anything over the loud sounds of your heart rate picking up at a rapid pace. You couldn’t even hear the round of applause the strangers that crowded around the white hair teenager who held the lifeless body like he did the first time meeting her.
They were clapping for Satoru. Fucking clapping.
You just stared at the crowd in disbelief. What kind of people would approve of this? What kind of people are happy over this? The death of a young girl.
A young girl you considered your friend.
Monsters...monsters... “Suguru...should we kill these guys? The way I am right now I doubt I’d feel anything.” His voice was hoarse. But what made your heart ache was hearing no emotion in his tone. It matched his stare. Dull. Lifeless. Emotionless. Your eyes went over to Suguru. His back was faced to Satoru but you saw his almond shaped eyes were as wide as they can be but soon he pulled himself back together. He always does. He has too. “No. There’s no point. It’ll be dissolved soon enough.” His voice mimic the tone Satoru set. He began to walk towards the door to get out of there. He was sick of the clapping and the smell of the dried blood that lingeried. He was sick of this. He was sick of this life. He was sick of death. He was sick of curses. “No point, huh? Does there really need to be any point to it?” Satoru asked or stated. You couldn’t really tell. You went to follow behind Suguru like a lost puppy but Satoru called out your name.
“Name...”
"Y-yes...Satoru?" your gentle voice trembled.
"What do you think we should do?" Satoru asked you. His eyes didn’t look at you. They just looked straight ahead into nothing. Suguru's eyes went over to you almost forgetting you were even there. Your eyes was puffy and red from crying. You were the emotional one out of the three. That's why Satoru would tease you about being weak. You were a crybaby. But Suguru didn't see an issue with it, he likes you like this. So did Satoru but he wouldn't openly admit it. You reminded him about those certain emotions he swore he couldn’t feel anymore. "Name...what should we do?" Suguru also asked willing to do anything you said. The self proclaimed brains of this trio couldn’t think straight or logically. So it was up to you.
The boys looked over at you for an answer. An answer you didn't have. This wasn't fair. These higher ups using you children. Not caring if you killed one another or died in front of each other. You loved your best friends. Especially Satoru and Suguru, willing to do anything to protect them. Even Riko. They were the only family you have. But would the higher ups mourn you? Would the higher ups sink into a dark hole of depression? Would the higher ups get revenge on you? Or would they replace you like a piece of livestock. They would probably replace you in a matter of days.
They probably would assign Satoru and Suguru a mission while your ashes are still warm.
Satoru and Suguru.
The thought of leaving them behind made you feel sick at the pit of your stomach. How would Satoru handle it? You knew Suguru would break in a matter of days. He bottles so much inside of him it would just burst out. Would they keep it together if you were to die? Or would they lose it themselves.
You know you would lose it if either of them or both of them were to die. Leaving you all alone. To defend yourself. To love yourself. You couldn’t imagine a world without them. The three of you were glued to each other, couldn’t really function without the other.
You could feel the anger replacing the fear and anxiety. On the inside your morals and humanity was being teared apart, stripped away from you the more you stared at Riko's lifeless body in Satoru's arms covered by a thin white cloth. "Name..." Suguru called out to you once more. There wasn’t much time to make a decision. "Kill them," you finally answered losing all emotions you had that day, "kill them all." That's all Satoru needed to hear. His lips formed a wicked grin as Suguru silently summoned the rainbow dragon. You stood watched the blood being splattered on the walls and floors. The screams made you smile like that day on the beach with your best friends.
That’s where your mind was. The day on the beach with Riko and Satoru laughing at the sea cucumber while you, Suguru, and Misato were on the beach towels just watching them with smile of your faces.
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erinwantstowrite · 3 months
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it has come to my attention that you are all traumatized from past experiences,,,, let me assure you that chapter 12 does, in fact, have a lot of fluff and i am not trying to trick you
we are in the era of Peter and Dick being silly little guys. like sure we got that whole "he has to go back at some point :(" overall sadness right now but peter is trying to steal a rotisserie chicken and dick is contemplating letting him get away with it. dick being concerned that peter can not read a map. peter meeting haley and deciding he'd die for her. they're good right now i prommy :3
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milfygerard · 1 month
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i still posit thered be way less inter-swiftie drama if we all stopped writing conspiracy theories and started making short-form psychoanalytical fiction writing exercises like a normal fucking fandom
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read a fanfic last night that portrayed the characters exactly the way I like them, had my preferred ships, and included themes that really captured my attention and imagination. overall great experience. except now I'm mad the author hasn't written more works within the same AU. (it's me i'm the author.)
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