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lighteyed · 1 year

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like you'd get your knuckles bloody for me / steve harrington

— steve's not used to people throwing punches for him, you'er not used to throwing them. anything for him, though. always, anything for him. (little short fic moment, fem reader, 1.4k words)

"Dude, your girlfriend is such a badass!" Robin skips into Family Video grinning like a madwoman. Steve, shuffling through the tapes he needs to place back onto the shelves, lifts his head and scrunches his brows together.

"I mean, yeah, but-"

Robin doesn't let him finish, she's already telling him the story. "She was all, wham bam thank you ma'am," she throws multiple air punches and Steve drops the tapes on the floor, "and Jason Carver was all, 'my nose you broke my nose-" she puts on a fake-whiney voice and Steve grips the shelf in front of him, feeling faint.

"I'm sorry, she did what-"

"And she was all, fuck you Carver, and she was totally gonna pummel him again until his friend like dragged her off him and her face hit the pavement, but like, still, she kicked ass-"

"Robin!" Steve shouts, waving his hands in front of her face. She stops, finally registering the disbelief on his face. She covers her mouth. She probably shouldn't have said anything. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"She, um, she didn't tell you?" She squeaks out, she takes a step backwards. "Forget I said anything! I'm sure she'll call you-" She trips over the cart Steve was using to stock the tapes and dashes behind the counter to avoid him, knowing you were going to kill her for saying anything and Steve was going to kill her if she didn't say anything else.

"Hey! Robin!" But she's already clocking herself in and beginning her closing shift duties, refusing to say another word on the topic because she's already said too much without meaning to. He completes the rest of his shift in silence, snapping at customers whenever they ask him a question and losing his mind when he looks at the clock and realizes only ten minutes has passed. He tries to call your house with the store phone but you don't pick up, which makes him even more worried and causes him to snap at people even worse, so Keith cuts him early with a disappointed lecture that Steve only half listens to, and he runs out of there once Keith finally shuts up, pulling out of the parking lot and on his way to your house without a second thought.

When you answer the door for him, you brace yourself for his scolding, 'cause the way he's looking at you, at your scratched face and bloody knuckles, with his soft gaze roaming all over you for any other signs of injury, you can tell he wants to. He wants to scold and lecture and fret. He wants to be mad that you got into a fist fight, let alone a fist fight with a guy who, if he had wanted to, probably could've hit you ten times harder.

He can't really be mad, though. "I didn't know Rocky Balboa was visiting Hawkins," he says, sarcastic but not mean, closing the front door behind him before coming to touch your face with his gentle hands, tilting your head to the side so he can take a good look at your cheek. It's a not a deep scratch, but you're bleeding all the same. He runs his fingers over it lightly and rests his hand there. "What'd you do, sweet girl?" You groan, retreating away from him to grab your bag of frozen peas from the counter and setting them flat across your bruise. He follows behind in earnest.

"Jason Carver can go fuck himself," you grumble. "S'all he does now, anyway, since Chrissy dumped his ass. And no wonder why. I can't stand him." You stare at where you're soaking your cheer uniform in the sink, the white fabric staining pink the more you tried to scrub Jason's blood out. You're opting to soak it out now, hoping you won't have to go buy a new one.

"Okay, what'd he do," Steve corrects, tucking your hair behind your ear.

You hesitate. You don't really want to tell Steve. It wasn't nice, what Carver had said, and in particular, it hadn't been nice to Steve. You weren't sure what had prompted Carver to start going in on your boyfriend, about how Steve was a loser, a deadbeat, pathetic, wasn't going anywhere in life, but it why he'd said it hadn't mattered to you. He'd said that you and you'd seen red, burning blistering red, and you'd punched him in the face before you could really think about whether or not that was a good idea. And you'd gotten him good, too, a nice big wallop to his smug face when he hadn't suspected it in the slightest, and you'd gotten on top of him going for more when his friend had yanked you off him by your ponytail and sent you spinning down to the asphalt. Your face had been gotten good, too. But not as good as Jason's. You were defensive when it came to Steve. You couldn't help it. He was Steve. He'd do anything for the people he loved, he was loyal and defensive and smart (as much as he'd deny that), he was sweet and had never been anything but perfect to you, perfect for you, and if someone had something to say about him, you'd make sure they'd have to answer to you. You'd never let him feel like he didn't have someone in his corner.

"Nothin'," you mutter, not looking at him, looking anywhere but him. "Just usual asshole Carver stuff."

"No, no, you don't get this worked up over nothin', baby." He wets a paper towel at your sink with rubbing alcohol and raises it to your face. "S'gonna sting, okay? Stay still," he puts it against you as soft as he can but you still hiss and draw back in pain. "You can tell me what he did. Need to know so I don't worry about you all night long." Had he put his hands on you? On one of your friends on the team? Something worse? The thought of something worse made Steve's blood run cold. He'd kill Jason himself, consequences be damned, if he'd touched you any type of way.

You scowl. "I don't wanna talk about it, Steve, seriously."

"You can't just not talk about it with me," he frowns right back at you. "If it's that bad you need to tell me. What happened? Please," he pouts his lip at you and you can't resist, you're melting in his hands, you're giving him whatever he wants the second that plush lower lip juts out at you and his pretty brown eyes go heavy-lidded and tragic-looking. You lean forward and kiss his protruding lip, wrapping your arms around his waist.

You press your face into his shoulder and murmur against his shirt, "He was talkin' bad about you, okay?" He pulls away, brow furrowed.

"Talkin' bad about me?" He places his hands on your shoulders. "Baby, you don't haveta get worked up over me, okay? And don't go throwing punches for me, Christ, you can't do that." He runs a hand through his hair, and there he goes, hands on hips, like he always does when he's worked up and stressed over something you or the kids are doing. "I don't care what he said, okay?" His hands go back to your shoulders, he's looking in your eyes, deep and distraught. "I don't care you. You don't go throwing punches for me. 'M not worth all that."

You push him off you. "Don't say that! That's not true, you're worth it! You'd do it for me, why can't I do it for you? You deserve it, too." Steve goes quiet. "You're worth it, okay? Don't be stupid." You press the frozen peas harder to your hand.

"I still don't like you fighting," he relents, and you know you've got him in the palm of your hand, he could never stay mad at you, not really, but his brows still knit together with worry. You smooth out the crease in them with your good hand and he softens exponentially with a sigh, leaning into your touch.

"As long as no one talks shit about you, I won't be," you pinch his cheek and he laughs. You'd die for that sound.

"Yeah, yeah, cool it, Rocky," he teases.

"Shut up!" You hit him with your bag of peas.

He grins, and he can't help it, he's a little proud, thinking about you punching someone in the face for him. Knuckles bloody for him. Making sure he knows he's worth fighting for. His heart swells at the thought.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington #stranger things

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ihavemanyhusbands · 2 years

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I Need You (18+)

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

You've been casually hooking up with Aaron for a while, but even if you want something more, things aren't always so simple.

WC: 2.7k words

Warnings - SMUT!! MINORS DNI (18+), HEAVY on the angst lol, cursing, p in v, oral (f receiving), casual-ish sex, unprotected (don't be silly wrap ur willy and whatnot pls), not sure what else so lmk if I missed anything!

A/N: Omg ive been so burnt out from work I'm so sorry i promise im still writing my queue of reqs but for the sake of my sanity I needed to write this lmao I had this idea suddenly and I just LOVE ANGST!!! So I had to! Considering writing a part 2 to give them a happy ending lol in the meantime, hope you like!

It was the perfect night to stay inside. It was raining so hard that it threatened to become a deluge, thunder rumbling in the distance and only getting closer. You had brought out a couple of blankets to the living room to snuggle under, a cheesy old horror movie waiting for you on the TV.

You dumped popcorn into a big bowl and poured yourself some more wine, humming along to a song that was stuck in your head.

Because you weren’t expecting anyone at all, you were in full-on slob mode. Your pajamas consisted of an oversized t-shirt with a picture of Garfield and Odie on the front, along with yellow underwear that had “Tuesday” stitched on them – even if it was actually Friday.

Your hair was braided into two pigtails, still damp from the shower. You always loved how it looked all wavy right after undoing them in the morning, like you’d just been at the beach.

Outside, there was a quick, bright flash of lightning, and you really hoped the lights wouldn’t go out. From the kitchen, you almost didn’t hear the knocking on your front door. You’d been counting the seconds between that flash and the inevitable growl of the skies – One, two, three, four, five…

But then you registered the desperate, staccato rhythm of fists pounding on wood. You rushed towards the door, peering through the peephole before throwing the door open.

Standing on the threshold, drenched from head to toe, was the handsome Aaron Hotchner. It was at that same moment that thunder decided to rumble, but you’d long since stopped counting. The two of you momentarily stared at each other, almost as if in disbelief.

Aaron had been your neighbor for some time now, living just at the end of the block. Still, despite the proximity, you didn’t see him very often, so your heart began racing at this turn of events.

His gaze roamed over you, taking you in, but you didn’t feel self-conscious. He always made you feel confident and sexy, no matter what you were wearing… or not wearing. He flexed his fingers anxiously, like he wanted to reach out but was holding himself back.

“May I come in?” he asked, breaking the spell you were both under.

You nodded quickly, stepping aside to let him in. He took his shoes off as you helped him remove his blazer, hanging it up by the door. You dashed toward your bathroom to retrieve a towel and handed it to him.

“Thanks,” he murmured, toweling off his hair first. It was the most disheveled you’d ever seen it, and you’d ran your hands through it plenty of times in the past. It was a charming sight, really.

“Did you just get back?” You asked.

He nodded, draping the towel on his shoulders. You could see the bags under his eyes and the tense set of his shoulders, which you immediately wanted to help ease.

Some time ago, he’d confided with you that he was a profiler for the FBI. He often traveled to aid in all sorts of cases, sometimes having to be away for extended periods of time, but he’d never disclosed any details about any of them.

It was the reason you rarely saw him, but you didn’t really have the right to complain, since you two weren’t actually together. Instead, you took what you could get.

“Come sit, you must be exhausted,” you said, starting to lead him to the living room.

“I am,” he sighed heavily, reaching out to grab your hand to stop you. “But I just… needed to see you.”

Drawing you closer, he snaked his arms around your waist, and you rested your hands against his chest. You wiped a strand of dark hair away from his forehead, looking into his bewitching dark brown eyes. A soft smile tugged at your lips.

You remembered well the day you met him, out on the run around the neighborhood. The two of you had looked at each other and just kind of… stopped, unable to help it. It was as if the connection had been immediate.

The two of you spent the rest of that day walking around and talking, quickly finding out you lived on the same street. As time passed, one thing led to another, and soon you found yourself under him, your moans a melody in his ears.

But even if you had a burning desire for more, things were kept purely physical between the two of you. He’d explained his job was very demanding, and he wasn’t able to keep a serious relationship at the moment.

Once, he’d even told you that being with him would be risky for a myriad of reasons. And yet, he admitted he didn’t think he could keep himself totally away from you.

You said you didn’t mind, wanting to keep seeing him too, betraying your heart in the process. You found that each time you saw him, you fell just a little bit more for him. It was hard not to.

Not that you would tell him this, of course. It felt a little… selfish to feel that way. So just being around him was enough for the time being.

“Welcome home, I’m really glad you’re here,” you whispered, fingers trailing over his shoulders. “Why don’t we get you out of these wet clothes and warm you up? I can take care of you.”

His gaze became heated, and without another word, he bent down to kiss you. His hands cradled your face as you opened your mouth, granting his tongue access.

You began undoing the buttons of his shirt, fumbling a little as your tongue tangled with his. You did not stop kissing him even as you slid it off of him, along with his undershirt. You pressed yourself against him, his cool skin a nice contrast against all the warmth you emanated. His hands traveled south, towards the hem of your shirt.

You only separated for a moment as he pulled it over your head, but then he was on you again, kissing not just your lips, but your jaw and neck as well. You sighed contentedly, eyes fluttering closed as you surrendered to pleasure.

“I needed you so bad,” he rasped against your throat. “I missed your smell, your softness.”

You melted at his words. It had not been easy to get Aaron to speak so freely. It definitely took a lot of patience and understanding, as well as a lot of honesty of your own. That feeling of mutual trust was not one you took lightly.

“I’m here,” you assured him, tangling your fingers in his hair as his lips trailed further down, leaving open mouthed kisses in their wake.

He took one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. Your back arched as his hand tweaked your other nipple, at the same time that his teeth lightly grazed the sensitive skin. He smirked at your sharp intake of breath.

Then suddenly, you yelped as he pulled back only to pick you up, carrying you to your bedroom. He gently laid you down on the bed, undoing his belt and kicking his pants off before crawling over you. His mouth was back on you, licking and sucking and kissing all the places he knew would make you squirm.

“Oh, Aaron…” you sighed. “Did I mention I missed you too?”

“I know, baby, I know,” he said, planting a salacious kiss on your navel. “I’m gonna make you feel so good to make up for it.”

You couldn’t help but shiver in anticipation.

He chuckled at your choice of underwear, eyes gleaming with fondness as he looked up at you. You gave him a sheepish smile as he pulled them down, kissing your thighs as he pushed them apart. Your hips jerked as he dove forward, licking a long, languid stripe through your folds. He groaned against your skin at the taste of you, inserting his tongue into your center.

You fisted the sheets as you rocked your hips, seeking more friction. He brought a hand up to keep you steady, thumb brushing over your sensitive clit. The way you whimpered and moaned for him was glorious. He knew the sound would be stuck in his head for days to come. His mouth replaced his thumb on your clit, and he insterted one finger into you as he sucked your bundle of nerves between his lips.

“Holy fuck,” you hissed, fingers tangling in his hair. “Don’t stop, please…”

Your wish was his command, so he only doubled his efforts, inserting a second finger into you. Your muscles tensed, and you were unable to utter any more coherent words. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you kept his head in place, that tight coil that had formed in your stomach finally snapping. He felt you clench hard around his fingers as you came, pride swelling in his chest.

When he rose to his knees, the lower half of his face glistened with your arousal, and he was smiling with utter satisfaction. If there was one thing he truly enjoyed – and was really good at – it was giving you as many orgasms as he could. He loved seeing the heavy rise and fall of your chest, along with the blush that spread over your cheeks and nose. The beatific smile that inevitably followed, always directed at him. He would never tire of it.

This time, you pulled him towards you, kissing him fiercely, humming at the taste of yourself on his tongue. He groaned, helping you pull his briefs down before settling his hips between your legs.

“I need you,” you whispered against his lips, bucking your hips so his hardened length slid against your soaked pussy.

He wanted to tease you a little bit more, to make you beg, but the need to be inside you was much greater. Reaching a hand down, he lined himself up with your entrance and ever-so-slowly sank into you. He leaned his forehead against yours, both of you exhaling sharply when he was fully seated inside of you.

Your thighs squeezed his hips as he began to thrust slowly, letting you feel every inch of him. You’d missed the feeling of him stretching you, his body flush against yours, unsure of where you ended and he began.

Soon he picked up the pace, groaning out your name as the obscene sounds of flesh slapping together filled the room.

“You take me so well…” he praised between pants, feeling your walls flutter around him at his words.

“H-harder, Aaron, please,” you begged. “Fuck… your cock just feels so good.”

He couldn’t deny you anything, truly. Pulling back a little, he brought your legs up so your ankles rested on his shoulders. He felt impossibly deep at this angle, the sensation close to being overwhelming, but not in a bad way. He pounded into you, and you gripped his shoulders tightly, as if attempting to anchor yourself.

Your mouth was slack in pleasure, brows furrowed and eyes fluttering closed. His name fell from your lips like a prayer, completely at his mercy. His movements soon became more erratic, hips jutting at an irregular rhythm. When he realized he was close, he wanted you to come along with him, so his hand snaked down between you. He rubbed your clit in quick, tight circles, your muscles tensing once again.

“C-can I…” he tried to formulate, unable to finish his sentence.

You understood him all the same, nodding enthusiastically. “Yes, inside me, please!”

Mere seconds after you said that, the two of you stumbled into oblivion, unable to hold back any longer. You cried out his name as he groaned, movements halting as he spent inside of you, his cock twitching. He shuddered as he felt you clench around him, milking out his orgasm.

“There’s a good girl. You like coming for me, don’t you?” He grunted, smirking at your flushed features.

You smiled demurely at his words, nodding. “Oh, I love it.”

As he started to come down from his high, he continued to gaze down at you adoringly, kissing your calf as he gently brought your legs back down. In his eyes, you were the most glorious sight of all, completely bare and undone. All thanks to him.

Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he already felt like you were his. Despite keeping you at an arms length, he held his feelings for you close to his chest. He cared too much about you to put you in any sort of danger, which was why he did not let himself have what he truly wanted.

He lied on the bed facing you, pulling you closer to him and kissing the top of your head. You nuzzled his neck, breathing him in and rejoicing in the feeling of having him here, all to yourself. At least for the time being.

“I think this is my favorite part,” you said against his skin, almost purring at the feeling of his fingers stroking your hair.

He huffed in response, staring vacantly at the wall, deep in thought. It had to be his favorite part, too. He could feel as your heart rate slowed to a steady rhythm, matching his. Your lips planting lazy little kisses all over his throat.

To have you like this felt incredibly selfish, and he hated himself for putting you in this position. He couldn’t help his thoughts from beginning to spiral, depite the influx of euphoria running throughout his body.

“Have you ever…” he began, clearing his throat as he searched for his courage. “Thought of seeing somebody else?”

You pulled back to frown at him, but he didn’t meet your gaze. “What?”

“I mean, is just this good enough for you? Don’t you ever want more?”

“W-where is this coming from?” You asked, pulling further back. “Did you meet someone? Is this your way of telling me?”

He quickly shook his head. “No, nothing like that. I guess I just have a hard time believing you’re content with seeing me only every so often, no commitment, no guarantee of anything… I can’t think of the reason why.”

You averted your eyes. “Does there have to be a reason?”

He shrugged, unsure of what to say. Frankly, there were instances in which you wondered the same thing, but deep down, you already knew the answer. You were scared of facing it, yes, but you were even more scared of him finding out.

“Well, to be clear, if I didn’t want you around – if I didn’t want this – you wouldn’t be here right now,” you said, idly tracing patters in the sheet beneath you with your finger. “So maybe you’re just gonna have to take my word for it.”

Sometimes you truly couldn’t understand why he thought the world would be out to get you for being with him. You were no one, you reasoned. You were merely a sinful secret, a reprieve from the harsh realities of the world. Realities that he never wanted you to witness, especially not after everything he knew you’d already been through.

You were yet to teach him that you truly could take care of yourself, too. In due time, perhaps.

With a deep sigh, he wordlessly embraced you once more, keeping you close for a long moment. He tried to memorize the velvety soft feel of your skin, the light freesia scent of your shampoo, and how you would always eagerly melt into his kiss. He’d need something to hold on to until the next time he saw you.

“Are you going to stay tonight?” You asked softly, wanting to pretend a little longer.

He nodded, looking down to meet your gaze as you pulled back once more. “But I have a really early start tomorrow. I’ll probably be gone before you wake up.”

You stroked his cheek tenderly, silently holding his gaze for a moment.

“How many times are we supposed to say goodbye to each other, you think?”

“As many as it takes.”

Until it’s real. Until either of us actually means it.

#criminal minds #ssa aaron hotchner #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #angst (potential happy ending)#aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner smut #hotch #minors dni

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shingekinomyfeelings · 6 months

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Reiner x reader master list

If you're here for AOT fics, I should probably mention that I'm not the most prolific fanfic writer. I write when the inspiration and energy hit me, and frankly, I have zero self discipline!

That said, even with AOT now finished, and fandom activity dwindling, I will still write and update fics as the mood takes me - but with less rampant AOT energy on my dash, my inspiration has taken a bit of a nose dive.

At its heart, though, this is still primarily a blog I made for exploring the AOT fandom, and I'd like to keep it that way, even if the AOT content becomes less frequent. For now, my fics aren't going anywhere, and neither is my silly Reiner obsession.

My fics are mostly x reader, and yes, they're basically all about Reiner. This is a very very shameless Reiner blog, I'm not gonna pretend it's not. Fluff and angst are generally my strong points, but I'm becoming a little less shy about writing smut.

I generally don't take requests, but I'm open to... suggestions? If you wanna bounce headcanons around or thirst dump or just talk about Reiner, my ask box is always open. Don't be shy! I'm nothing but a doofus, I promise.

Finally, I'm doing this for fun and because I enjoy it, so please don't yell at me about whatever thing you didn't like in my writing. Comments absolutely do make my day, though, and reblogs are so very appreciated and encouraged, no matter how long ago the fic was published.

one shots.

short and sweet - or, short and upsetting!

sfw

preservation (drama/fluff) - an injury during training leads to a bit of bickering and a bit of a confession. ~1600 words.

too much, not enough (hurt/comfort) - Reiner talks with you in the midst of a depressive episode. ~450 words.

nsfw

Shh (smut, pwp) - Reiner is a tease in the best possible way

multi-chapter fics.

longer stories, but still in bite-sized chapters. updates happen when they happen, I'm sorry.

sfw

nsfw

headcanons.

you can't prove I'm not right.

sex headcanons - pre-timeskip Reiner vs post-timeskip

misc nsfw musings: vocal | too sweet to talk mean

imagines.

fun thoughts.

lies Reiner tells himself | flirty sparring gone horribly wrong | Reiner whose SO is afraid of the dentist (request-ish)

character analysis.

overanalyzing and wildly speculating as god intended.

on the idea of Reiner having a separate 'evil/cruel' personality part 1, and then part 2

not Reiner fics???

sometimes I pick on other characters.

misc weird shit.

The Saga of the Cursed Reiner Bot: A Love Story in 8 Parts - everyone's favorite slow motion trainwreck from when these AI chat bots were still an exciting novelty

#attack on titan fanfiction #aot fanfiction #aot fanfics #reiner braun #reiner #reiner braun x reader #reiner x reader #my writing

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boinin · 1 month

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sorry i couldn't find out how to ask on your other blog.

that book binding you posted is gorgeous btw !!

I noticed that in one of the photos you included the disclaimer that you also edited it. I just had a question about how you formatted the text.

one of my biggest gripes with AO3 is text formatting (i often feel like i'm reading a legal document vs a novel/story) . Did you change how it is formatted on AO3 compared to printed?

I feel like i'm in the 0.5% that hate AO3 formatting but i thought i might as well ask in case you have any tips for that. >,>

(also how do you decide on the page size, do you just choose a standard size for all your projects? or do you vary it depending on what you are binding?)

thanks so much for taking the time to answer and for sharing your projects :) !!!!!!!!!!!

hey anon! I have asks turned off for the sideblog, but happy to answer here. Thanks very much!

I'm taking this opportunity to info-dump and link a lot of resources. I think they're useful for people new to either typesetting or bookbinding, but not all are directly related to your queries. That said, hope this is of use!

one of my biggest gripes with AO3 is text formatting (i often feel like i'm reading a legal document vs a novel/story) . Did you change how it is formatted on AO3 compared to printed?

I do a fair bit of editing when I'm binding a fic; typesetting is often the longest part of the process. Your mileage will vary depending on your experience with using word processor software, particularly the paragraph style and page style settings. Another factor is how simple/complicated you want your typeset to look. Replicating a published novel in format is difficult but learnable for a complete beginner.

I'm not equipped to give a full tutorial on how to typeset, but I'll point you towards some useful resources for ficbinding then talk about my own process.

ArmouredSuperHeavy has a tutorial on how to make Ao3's HTML downloads into a printable book in Microsoft Word. I use LibreOffice Writer myself, so this adaptation of the same tutorial is what I follow. Both are very helpful to reference as you're learning the typesetting ropes.

Personally, I don't mess around with HTML. I find it easiest to start by doing a Ctrl+A copy of the Entire Work fic view on Ao3 then pasting that into my word processor. This video tutorial by Beautifully Bound runs through how to do this in Microsoft Word using an AO3 fic as an example, including the associated steps needed to make the fic look novel-like. This is probably the best tutorial to address your gripe with AO3 formatting. Other than that, I'd recommend looking into videos or tutorials about typesetting novels for print. Same idea, and you may get more hits than searching for fanbind/ficbind typesetting tutorials.

More under the cut! Once I start yapping, it's hard to shut me up 🤷‍♀️

As a point of comparison, here's one of my fics on Ao3 and the corresponding typeset side by side:

Beautifully Bound explains this in far better detail than I will, but off the top of my head, the steps involved:

making a new document and setting the default page size to whatever size I want the book's pages to be (A5 or A6 usually). You can also set the margins at this point, taking account of your printer settings.

CTRL+A and copying the entire work's text on AO3 then pasting it into the document.

removing all hyperlinks and AO3 frontmatter, things like the author tags, summary, notes, etc as well as any website text that got copied over alongside the fic.

(optional) running a spell check and ensuring grammar usage is consistent. For me that's substituting em dashes for hyphens between clauses, enforcing curly double quotation marks for dialogue, etc. LibreOffice Writer automates a lot of this with customisable settings, via Tools -> Auto-Correct. Here's also where to make sure character names are all spelled right, convert the text to or from US to UK English, etc.

picking out fonts for the body text, headers, page numbers, etc. This is where you'll want to use paragraph style settings. Page style settings also comes in clutch if, for example, you'd like different headers on alternating pages. I like having the author on the right, the fic title on the left.

setting the body text first line indent to whatever makes sense visually). This in particular helps make the fic feel more like a novel. You can also play around with line spacing and space between paragraphs at this stage. For this A6 typeset, I had a 0.75cm first line indent, 1.15 line spacing, and 0.15 spacing between paragraphs.

(optional) formatting the first line of the work to use small capitals and to add a drop caps to the first letter of the first word. Again, this is a convention in publishing which add a novel-like feeling to a printed fanwork.

Inserting page numbers, adding images, coming up with how I wanted the "copyright" page to look—optional for the most part, but these are details that make a fic appear more like a novel.

For multi-chapter works, there's extra work in formatting chapter titles as headings so that they're referenced correctly in the automatic table of contents word processors can generate.

Once you have a typeset you're happy with, and if you're considering printing and binding it as a book, then you'll need to look into how to create and print signatures. Personally, this is something I had to actually try (and mess up a bunch of times) before I got to grips with it. Understanding how both your printer and your PDF reader work, particularly printer margins and booklet print settings, is key.

I won't go into as much detail on this, but if it's something you have an interest in, I'd recommend starting with DAS Bookbinding's tutorial. DAS has tutorials for everything bookbinding related so when in doubt, check his channel! Plenty of other YouTubers also have good videos on making signatures.

This resource is extremely useful once you've got your head around how to print signatures manually, so here's a link for anyone in that space: GitHub Bookbinding Imposer. Essentially, this does the signature creation for you, removing the need for booklet print settings in your PDF reader.

also how do you decide on the page size, do you just choose a standard size for all your projects? or do you vary it depending on what you are binding?

I have access to both A4 and A5 sized paper and my printer can handle printing on either size. In bookbinding, normally two pages are printed per side of the paper (which are then folded in half as part of a signature). That is, when I print on A4 paper, it's to make an A5 sized book. Printing on A5 paper will yield an A6 sized book.

Before I begin typesetting, I'll usually know what paper I plan to use, so the typeset will be one size down from the paper. So far, I've made softcover pamphlets at A6 size and casebound books in A5. No real method of choice for me, it's whatever I feel most suits the project.

---

If you made it this far anon, thanks for reading! Here's links to a few general resources if bookbinding is something you'd like to explore more:

DAS Bookbinding (YouTube, bookbinding in all forms)

Sea Lemon DIY (YouTube, bookbinding and other crafts)

bitter melon bindery (YouTube, bookbinding, particularly beginner friendly!)

Jess Less (YouTube, demonstrations of fanbinding and re-binding existing novels)

Papercraft Panda (blog, lots of detailed tutorial on bookbinding)

Renegade Bookbinding Guild (collective and website, loads of fanbinding-specific resources from their members and they have a helpful Discord).

#ask #mine #non bllk #bookbinding #fanbinding #ficbinding #typesetting #resources #long post

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stratossphere · 2 years

Text

love in closeness | v.v

ville can be clingy when he wants to be.

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, a lot of mentions of sex/suggestive content, everyone is drinking

word count: 6.6k

tags: @asskickedbygirl @lieutenant-cinnamon-roll @kissofdawn666 @brandons-wife @valos-venus-doom

— —

"I'm bringing an amp to your house. For you to keep there." That sentence, which your boyfriend had uttered to you the morning before he was due to arrive at your apartment for the next two weeks, was playing in your head as you got a text alerting you that he and Bam were close by. That, in turn, meant that Ville was undoubtedly due to show up with a bunch of junk in tow, all of which he would end up leaving when he eventually had to fly back home. If he wasn't who he was…

Despite the promise of your apartment ending up trashed by the same time tomorrow, you were almost bouncing on your feet as you eagerly awaited Bam and Ville's arrival. They were both coming from Helsinki together, so it was essentially a homecoming for the both of them.

However, you immediately started to regret being excited when you suddenly heard the lock slide out of place on your front door.

"This place is a fucking dump! Next time I'm staying in a goddamn hotel!" Bam was inside the second the door was open, and you frowned when Ville didn't appear behind him. Of course he was already complaining with his first breath of air in your apartment, and you threw a hand in the air.

"What's your problem? And where's Ville?" You sighed, already seeing how this day was going to go based on Bam's clear hyperactive bad mood. He cast a venomous look out towards the hall.

"Your fucking elevator is broken. Again. And he's bringing the amp and shit up." He explained like it was obvious. You rolled your eyes, because of course he was complaining about having to walk up two flights of stairs, before sliding out of your seat.

"You just left him to grab everything by himself, asshole?" Bam really was something special. He held up his singular backpack like that was any sort of explanation for his shortcomings, and you just sighed again before stepping around him and out into the hall.

You almost laughed when you realized you could hear the very audible sound of your boyfriend grumbling to himself in the stairwell, and you started your way down to help him with quick feet.

"You better be coming down to grab your shit, you prissy little bitch." Clearly he thought you were Bam, because there was no way in hell he would've ever found the audacity to say something like that to you.

"What, not enough muscle to carry it yourself, pussy?" You teased, still unable to see him as you talked over the sound of muffled thudding that told you Bam had truly abandoned all of his stuff in Ville's care to dash up the stairs just to unlock your door with Ville's key. Ville chuckled at your words, the thudding coming to a stop.

"Sorry, love. Thought you were that little fuckhead that told me he had to take a piss so that he didn't have to carry anything." Ville's tone as he apologized was much softer at hearing your voice, and just as you turned the corner and almost ran directly into him, your response fell dead on your lips as you caught a full look at him.

Ville Valo, infamous for his long, dark brown locks, had cut his hair. Right up to his ears. After having long hair throughout the extent of almost your entire relationship. Your jaw dropped, and he gave you a look like he had no idea why you seemed so shocked.

"Thought I would've gotten a little bit more of an enthusiastic welcome." He grumbled in the face of your silence, unable to do anything but stand there considering he had a backpack and a guitar case on his back, his suitcase with the amp balanced on top in one hand, and Bam's suitcase in the other hand. "What the hell are you staring at?"

"You cut your hair!" You finally found it in you to gasp, hand coming up to brush your fingers through the freshly-chopped strands where they went short at the nape of his neck where they used to extend past his shoulders. Obviously he still looked deliciously fucking handsome (even more so since not seeing him for the past three weeks), but you were in true shock.

"Yes. Thought if I told you about it on the phone you'd tell me not to." He said, as if his plan was the clearest thing in the world. "Now take some of this shit before I break my goddamn back."

Your jaw did not move from its dropped position even as the two of you made it up to the apartment where your front door was open, and you went right back into being in awe when you were able to drop all of the stuff in your hands and fully stare at a now-short-haired Ville.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me." That went for Bam too, considering he had obviously known about it and had yet said nothing to warn you.

"It's just a haircut." Ville said irritably as he finally emptied all of the stuff out of his hands as well, immediately going for you despite his tone and enveloping you in a hug so tight that it pulled just a bit of a whine out of you. You leaned back to give him a kiss, inhaling his scent for the first time in weeks as you smiled against his lips.

"Yeah, he got that done in the airport while we were waiting for our plane. The barber looked like someone you would see in a Russian torture film." Bam snickered, revealing Ville's clear lack of care over what the result of his new look was going to be. As he broke your kiss, Ville rolled his eyes.

"Does it look like it was done by a Russian torture actor?" He asked dryly, running his fingers through said hair and scratching at his scalp slightly just as your fingers came up to do the same.

"No. It looks really fucking good." You reassured as you eyed him pointedly, only getting about two seconds of being able to feel his new haircut before he was pulling your hand away from his head.

"Yeah. You look like Antonio Banderas." Bam added after you, already starting to rifle through the bag of food that had been sticking out of his backpack as he spoke. Ville smirked at that, and you gave Bam an unimpressed look at his stroking of Ville's ego.

"Where did you get that?" You narrowed your eyes at the amp that was now sitting in the middle of the floor with animosity, knowing that there was a good chance it was only going to be used when you least wanted it to.

"The airport." Ville looked more than proud of himself as he revealed his answer. Sometimes, when actually in the airport, you wondered if anyone actually fell for the marketing schemes of overpriced garbage that no one would ever want to buy in an airport...and then you remembered that Ville fell for all of it. "You can get anything your heart desires in those places. I thought you would've known that."

"Yeah, but I'm not just throwing out cash for a bunch of junk I see in store windows." That was a little bit of a pointed statement on your part, but you couldn't help yourself. You were fine with Ville being a self-proclaimed 'collector', as long as it wasn't your house he was collecting in. "Speaking of, what other junk did you get at the airport?"

"About...fifteen different sandwiches." Ville said, motioning to where Bam was still digging through his stuff. When you looked to both of the newcomers for an explanation, you just got defensive looks in response.

"You never have any food! I was hungry!" Bam explained, jabbing an insulting finger in the general direction of your fridge. You scoffed.

"You bought a bunch of sandwiches for the vegetarian? Seriously?" Your fridge was, in fact, empty, but you had planned on taking everyone out to bring back food, so you weren't all that worried about it. However, apparently Bam was a couple steps ahead of you.

"I’m gonna go get takeout while you...have fun with that." Bam motioned to the amp, which Ville had abandoned you in favor of dropping right down on the floor in front of and beginning to fuck with it after he had plugged it in with his guitar case next to him. You shot him a death stare.

"Great. I assume you'll immediately want my car, then." Lending out your car when Bam and Ville had no doubt been served full of liquor on their flight didn't exactly appeal to you, but it was your only chance to have some alone time with Ville, so you were making do. Bam grinned, already grabbing your keys off the counter.

"I’ll be gone for like, ten minutes tops so don't start going at it right in the middle of the floor." He warned, motioning to exactly where Ville was currently sitting. You snickered while Ville just flipped him off, and then Bam was heading towards the door to be the nice one (for once) and retrieve dinner. He said nothing else as he carted off and out the door, slamming it way too hard on the way out before his footsteps faded down the hall. You then turned to your preoccupied boyfriend.

"Wanna start going at it right in the middle of the floor?" You joked as you made your way closer to him, still half-staring at how short his hair was against the back of his neck where he was turned away from you.

"Hold on. In the middle of something." He muttered, and you could see that he was making sure he had all the plugs for the amp. You sighed, rubbing a hand down his shoulder from behind him.

"Will that explode and be gone in the time it takes to make out with me?" You asked dryly, teasing his obsession with instruments as he finally turned to look at you with an unimpressed face.

"I suppose not." And then, thankfully, he was getting back up, making sure to rise to his full height directly in your face just to be a little shit. "Just can't keep away from me, eh?"

"Not when you've been gone for three weeks." You shot right over his teasing, throwing your arms back around his waist and tilting your chin up to him with a pout that told him exactly what you wanted. He hummed at your words, reaching up a hand to cup your cheek before he was giving you another kiss, this one longer and less appropriate than the one he had given you in front of an audience. Once again, you couldn't help but smile against his lips, so elated to have him back that it was preventing you from fully kissing him the right way. "Mm! I'm just so glad you're home."

"Me fucking too." He sighed as he broke away. It sent a burst of warmth through you that he agreed so smoothly with your calling your place his home, and you couldn't help but hold his face in your hands and just beam at him like an idiot.

"I can't believe you cut your hair." Okay. Maybe you sounded a little bit like a broken record. But to give yourself some credit, he'd just gone and done it without telling you, and it had been getting long. When you saw him start to look exasperated again, you saved yourself. "What am I supposed to pull on now?"

"For fuck's sake, woman. I'm not bald." You clearly didn't save yourself enough, however, because his groan was more than dramatic as he lolled his head in your hands. "I even asked the man to wash my hair, just for you."

"Thank you." You cooed, pushing your fingers through his hair again just to feel the completely clean strands. When his eyes closed slightly at the feeling, you leaned up to press a couple kisses to his cheek. "I love you and I missed you, grouch."

"God, I've never been so glad to see your face. Bam was driving me up a fucking wall this trip." Ville groaned, hugging you again and staying there as he dipped his head to rest on your shoulder. You snickered, because who knew what kind of shit they'd been getting into while they'd been together.

"What, did he try sneaking into your bed or something?" As much of a jab at him as that was, it could've very well been the correct answer. Bam had a habit of getting 'lonely' when he was drunk. It was usually how your bed ended up with three people in it instead of two like it was supposed to.

Ville just shushed you in response, which about gave you your answer, before breaking away and leaning back slightly to inspect you.

“Almost forgot what you looked like.” He joked, reaching out a hand to pull the collar of your shirt down to expose your cleavage with a smirk on his face. You rolled your eyes, brushing his hand away and then doing a little shirt pulling of your own (which was lifting the hem of his so that you could look at his tattoo). And he just stood there and let you, too.

After not seeing your favorite of his tattoos for so long, you were having a hard time pulling your eyes back to his face.

"I don't know how the hell you got this done so young." As you spoke, you absentmindedly brushed a finger to drag across the design on his lower stomach. He then quickly pulled your hand away, giving you a warning look.

"Because I hoped that women would do things like that." He concluded, grabbing your other hand when you tried to do it again and then effectively holding you hostage in his strong grip. "I didn't ever picture I'd end up with a woman with your skill in invading my space, though."

"Aw, that's so sweet." You said sourly, shooting him a look as you wriggled out of his grasp and sighed while looking at all of the bags they had carted up into your not-very-big apartment. "You know, you don't have to move your entire apartment along with you every time you come."

"What fun would that be? I like having everything." Ville said as he came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your hips and setting his chin on your shoulder. "You know what else I like having?"

"What?" Judging by the tone of his voice and his word choice, you had a pretty good idea of where he was going with this conversation, and you could feel yourself starting to smile.

"My cock inside of you." He finished off with exactly what you expected him to say, fingers of his right hand skating your inner thighs as he basically draped himself against your back. You sighed in contempt, because you knew there was no way you had enough time to even get started.

"Don't tease me. Bam always comes back right when you're putting it in." You complained, holding his hand away so that he couldn't get you any more riled up than he already had. He chuckled lowly.

"I don't care. I'll wait until he’s back and still put it in." What a well-behaved, wholesome thing for him to say.

This was going to be an interesting first night together.

—

Using the word 'together' for you and Ville's first night back together had been a hyperbole. Sure, you were in fact together, but so were the two of you and Bam. Which meant that you'd all been sitting around your living room drinking yourselves to shit while you all talked about stupid garbage for the past almost six hours.

"So, you would never let me use your bed for a hookup? Dude. That's so fucked." On the topic of how far the ‘bro code’ extended, Bam was dissing you for saying that you would never let him anywhere near your bed with anything less than all of his clothes on. "You have no idea what bro code even means."

"I don't want to go back to my bed the next night and roll into a giant crusty spot!" Plus, who the hell just voluntarily let people fuck in their bed? Ville slurred out a chuckle from where he was laying with his head on your thigh where your legs were crossed on the floor, opening his eyes that had closed while you absentmindedly played with strands of his hair.

"You're fine with crusty spots when they're mine." He pointed out unhelpfully, pulling raucous laughter out of Bam and himself while you just tried to hold a glare while also starting to laugh.

"Obviously you don't count, stupid." Plus, it wasn't like you had a choice considering Ville had some of the worst blowing-a-load aim you had ever seen.

"You should be more of a bro, Y/n. You two have used my bed to fuck before." Bam complained, jabbing a finger at you as he reminded you of a few of the times you and Ville had given him a little payback for copious amounts of immature behavior. You snickered as he shot you a dirty look, even though it had been a while since that had even happened.

"Yeah, but we didn't ask you. We just did it. You would've said no." Like a sensible fucking person. "Tell you what. If you can go an entire week without ever pulling stupid pranks on us, then you and Jenn can fuck yourselves silly in my bed. I'll even let you use my camcorder to film it."

"You'll have to buy new tape. That one's already really full." Ville really needed to work on his ability to keep things to himself once tequila entered the equation. Bam's face immediately screwed up.

"You two make sextapes?" He sounded appalled by the idea, and you silently wondered if he ever really paid any attention when you and Ville were around each other. Sometimes you passed the tapes you already had back and forth after you'd been away from each other or before you left each other right in front of him, for fuck's sake.

"Oh yeah. Long ones." Once again, Ville just kept talking. You paused your hand in his hair, moving your hand instead to cover his mouth so that he'd stop spilling your sexual escapades to the person who would take it as far as he possibly could just for the fun of it.

"We're adults, Bam. And we live in different places." You reminded him dryly. Sextapes guaranteed that Ville was looking at naked videos of you instead of shitty porn magazines that had been under his bed for the last ten years, so you counted it as a win.

"Dude, did you not see what happened to Tommy Lee and Pamela Anderson?" Bam was clearly drunk enough to where he cared about your well-being, because he sounded completely serious. "You guys are like, the fucking same."

"Except ours are better. And there's a lot of them." Ville pulled your hand away from his mouth long enough to get that out, laughing like an idiot as Bam made a disgusted sound. You tried to cover his mouth again, also laughing, but failed as he held your fingers away in a tight grip. "Let's put one on and find out."

"Ville. Shut up." You groaned, wrestling with his hands as he continued to snicker at his grossing out everyone else in the room. "If anyone gets to watch our sextape, it'll be fair and square when it gets stolen and leaked to the public."

"You know, you two don't have to tell me everything. You can keep some things to yourself." Bam grumbled, getting up to get himself another drink after downing what was left in his glass. You scoffed as he walked past you.

"That wasn't even oversharing! Oversharing would've been telling you what's on the tapes." That time you really did hold your hand over Ville's mouth, because you knew he would definitely spill everything if you gave him the chance.

As Bam fucked around in the kitchen, Ville finally got your hand off of his mouth, an irritated look starting to form on his face as he shoved your hand away forcibly before turning on his side so that his face was pressed into both your leg and your side where you were still leaned over.

"Fucking hell." He muttered against your shirt, stretching out his arm to wrap around your hips as he rolled his body to do so. You laughed, because tequila always made him cuddly, before running your fingers through his hair again.

"What's wrong?" You asked softly, watching his legs splay out even further on the floor in front of you as he got comfortable on the hardwood. He hummed, rubbing your back absentmindedly with his fingers just brushing against the waistband of your jeans.

"I just fuckin' missed you so much." As well as turning into the king of oversharing when he drank tequila, he also got really love-drunk (no pun intended). Meaning you were about to be consistently told how much he liked you over and over again for the next couple hours or so. "You smell so good."

"Maybe you shouldn't have another drink." There was a slight chance it would get aggressive enough to where he'd cry, and you were pretty sure he didn't want that in front of Bam. He scoffed like that was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard, not moving his head from where it was buried but still raising a hand in the air and waving it.

"Another, bartender!" He called loudly enough to where it penetrated the air despite his face in your shirt, making you roll your eyes and in turn drawing Bam's attention towards the two of you.

"Hell no. Get your own." He said stubbornly as he finished loading up his 'mixed' drink with almost all tequila, leaving the bottle open right where it was on the counter as he came back towards you. He then snickered as he looked at Ville's position in your lap. "Ville, dude, you are so fucking pussy-whipped."

You watched as he dropped back down onto the couch and promptly spilled a little bit of his drink, earning himself a death stare from you. Ultimately, he was the one who had to sleep on it, but he could never have just a little consideration for your stuff. Ville finally sat up then, a grin on his face despite the insult.

"I'm the only one in this room getting pussy good enough to be whipped by." He announced loudly as he messily used your shoulder as leverage to pull himself up to standing, sounding more than proud of himself as he spoke. You shot him a dirty look as he gazed down at you without a single care in the world.

"Hey. I'm right here." You complained, elbowing his leg before standing up after him because you really didn't trust him to make smart decisions on his own in the kitchen. It was a compliment, sure, but not one appropriate for your present company.

"Dude. I literally have a girlfriend." Bam added, throwing a hand in the air like he felt left out for not being 'pussy-whipped'. Ville made a skeptical face.

"Yeah, but all you guys do is fight and hold out on each other. Can't really count that as good pussy. Or dick, for that matter." Ville essentially telling Bam that he was giving his girlfriend shitty dick made you laugh, and Bam just gave you both a betrayed look as he essentially pouted where he was sitting.

"Yep. I win." Ville concluded, holding a hand up for a high-five as you joined him in the kitchen. You refrained from doing so, ignoring his scoff of protest as you stepped around him to get the mixer juice you were using out of the fridge.

"Drink at least a little juice with that." You warned as you watched Ville sloppily fill his cup back up with tequila, one of your arms circling around his waist as you leaned into his side. He let out a disgruntled huff but took the orange juice from you, adding about a splash to his tequila to satisfy your request.

"American juice is fucking disgusting. Yankees ruin everything." Ville grumbled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before pulling out of your grasp despite the fact that he had just called you a Yankee.

"Hey. Don't be like that." Just because he couldn't get his 'natural alpine blueberry juice' or whatever in America didn't mean he had to go dissing everything he laid his eyes on in your house. "You're such a grouch."

"No I'm not. I love you." Suddenly Ville was pouting, and then he dipped down to press kisses to your cheek, abandoning his glass on the counter in favor of inhaling you in your personal space. You laughed and let him do so, arms around his waist as he held your face in both hands and kissed you over and over again.

"Ah! Stop! Your breath is horrible." You complained after his kisses transformed into being basically open-mouthed, trying to hold his head away while you continued to laugh at the same time. He broke away with an outraged look on his face.

"Did you just say my breath stinks?" He was about as self aware as a bird in a room made of glass. Tequila, a ton of Japanese takeout, an entire bag of chips, and cigarettes didn't exactly create a melting pot of smells that rivaled roses. You snickered and nodded, leaning up on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek instead.

"I still love you though." You reassured, getting out of his grasp so that you could actually make the drink that you'd come into the kitchen for in the first place. He just scoffed before smacking your ass what felt like as hard as he could, squeezing, and then leaving the kitchen.

What a sweetheart.

When you came back to the living room area conversation, which you had been mostly ignoring due to the fact that Ville had no doubt indulged in hearing about Bam’s relationship, they were talking. And, low and behold:

"—obviously there's criteria. You can't just say you're good because she gives it whenever you cry for it." Ville was saying from where he had gone right back to laying on the floor as if he was waiting for you to come back so that you could sit where you had been before.

"I don't cry for it! If anyone cries for it, it's probably you, stupid." Bam defended himself hotly, jabbing a finger at Ville and leaning back further into his seat on the couch. You snorted at that, and Ville just shook his head with a huge grin on his face.

"If you cry for your mama, she'll give you her tit." He said in a very philosophical tone, looking up to you as you made it to where you were going to sit down next to him with nothing but a pleased look on his face. You wrinkled your nose, because that was a terrible analogy, and Bam just groaned.

"Dude. That is so gross." He complained, shaking his head and running a hand over his face before then throwing it in the air. "What's your criteria, then?"

"First off, your lovely significant other should actually want to spend time with you." Ville said pointedly, motioning around the room to the lack of Bam’s girlfriend that was present with all of you. She refused to come anywhere with Bam more often than not (mostly because they had a habit of getting in huge arguments when they traveled together), so Bam was always the solo flier.

"We spend time together. When none of you fuckers are around." Bam defended himself, staring at both you and Ville with nothing but animosity in his eyes as Ville situated his head in your lap where you were sitting criss-cross as he rolled his eyes.

"Doing what? Fighting about your bitchy attitudes?" He muttered, furthering everyone but Bam's point. You laughed at that, and Bam just pouted more as he took a long sip of his drink.

"Hm. Fighting about bitchy attitudes. Reminds me of someone." He was death staring your side of the living room, and you knew he was referring to a fight you'd had at his house the month before when the two of you had been visiting. You gave him a mockingly sour look in return.

"Ha ha, dickhead." Clearly you'd gotten over that by now, considering Ville had manually moved your palm to rest against the side of his face so that you could brush your thumb back and forth across his cheek. "That was one time. You and Jenn fight like that all the time."

"Whatever you s—"

"Second, we have to have all overheard something shockingly vile of the sexual nature out of the both of you." Ville talked right over Bam's being a douche, holding up a second finger as he spoke. "And I've heard nothing but you specifically."

"And that doesn't count." You added, because you'd heard more than enough of what Bam and Jenn got up to once they were anywhere near each other; privacy available or not. If Ville had ever been as loud as Bam when you were as close to people as Jenn and Bam sometimes were, you would've kicked his ass.

"Ugh. That's not fair. What are you like, standing outside the door listening in?" Bam whined, throwing a hand in the air as he spoke. That wasn't a very based accusation, considering the amount of times Bam had hid outside your door and decided to burst in at unsavory moments just to prank you and Ville.

"You never know. I could start." Ville teased, wiggling his eyebrows at your pouting friend before he lifted his head just enough to where he could take a long sip of his tequila with minimal spilling. It being ‘minimal’ because a small stream started to roll sideways down his cheek, and you only caught it just in time before it ran right onto your crotch. "Alright, I'll give you an easier one. Has she ever asked you for a third?"

Bam hesitated a little bit at that, which would've about given Ville his answer had he been sober enough to pay attention to body language cues. You pursed your lips to hide a smile, because you were well aware of the fact that Bam had asked Jenn for a third, instead answering for him to save his ass from what would've been a whole show of tequila-induced, cackling-filled ridiculing from Ville had he found out the truth.

"She told me once that she had a huge crush on Ryan at the start of their relationship." That was true, and also common knowledge amongst everyone in the room besides Ville, so it was safe. Bam visibly relaxed as Ville started hyperventilating-laughing.

"Perfect! Maybe he's her type." He was clearly trying to start shit, because poking at Bam and Jenn's relationship in any way that Bam didn't start himself was basically a guarantee for a fight. Thankfully, Bam seemed drunk enough beyond caring. Ville was already talking again anyway, and he was looking right up at you. "When did she tell you that? When you were doing lady things together?”

Sometimes, you were deeply reminded of why men were so clearly the inferior species. You frowned.

“What does ‘lady things’ even mean?” You asked dryly, not sure if you even wanted to hear the answer to that. Bam was snickering, and Ville just looked glad that you’d asked.

"I don't know. Whatever women do. Get nails done, drink martinis, have pillow fights..." He trailed off with a simple shrug of a single shoulder, sounding pretty confident with his answer. That pulled a full laugh out of Bam, and you rolled your eyes.

"I don't do any of that." Well, sometimes you did have pillow fights, but that was only when Ville decided it would be funny to absolutely obliterate your head with a pillow out of nowhere. When Ville held up your hand where you had long, dark red nails as evidence for his first answer, you shook your head. "I did those myself. You were there."

"No. What girls do is order gross, fruity mixed drinks and then talk about sex with their friends for like, two hours straight." Bam filled Ville in as soon as he stopped laughing. Ville’s eyes lit up at that information.

"Oh! Why don't we ever do that?" He sounded more than excited by the idea, and you snickered because you knew that if he had been sober, he would’ve never participated in anything close to that.

“We are not doing that. Reign it in.” You sighed, trying not to laugh so that you sounded serious enough to keep him from opening the floodgates of information that should’ve definitely stayed between the two of you.

"Tequila makes you way too comfortable, man." Bam agreed, giving Ville an unnerved look at his suggestion. Ville scoffed in response, waving him off irritatedly as he turned on his side so that his face was half in your crotch and half on your leg.

"You're all fucking downers. No one knows how to have fun in America."

—

It only took about another hour of Ville getting progressively more and more loose-lipped before you decided that it was going to have to be bedtime, which ended up being almost impossible to maneuver with Ville protesting and Bam requesting help getting set up for bed. When you finally got Bam set up on the couch with what felt like a million blankets, you returned to your room hoping that Ville had just passed out, only to find that that was absolutely not the case.

"You took for-fucking-ever." He whined sleepily from where he'd thankfully crawled into bed, rolling over to where you could see that he was sans-shirt and beckoning you lazily. "It's cold."

"I wish I could film you when you're like this and then show it to you in the morning." You teased as you turned off the light, heading towards the bed and shedding your pants on the way.

"I'm fine." Ville scoffed, voice a little quieter now that the room was dark. You could still see him due to the streetlights and neon signs that shined directly into your bedroom window considering people had no idea what a nighttime brightness level should be, and he was watching you intently as you crawled into bed after him.

"Fine as hell." You confirmed with a cheesy grin on your face, barely even touching down onto the mattress before he was rolling into your side of the bed and leeching himself onto you as you pushed your arm to rest underneath his head. You pressed a kiss to his cheek once you were comfortable next to him. "Do you want anything before I go to sleep?"

"I want you." He mumbled, his lips falling against your cheek as he dropped his face to rest against yours. You could feel his soft breath on your skin, and you continued to smile as both of his arms wrapped tightly around you. "Hold me."

Maybe you were a little biased when you said that tequila-drunk was your favorite version of drunk Ville.

"I am. I'm right here." You reached your hand to card gently through his hair, the feeling of his much shorter strands still a little foreign to you despite having had your hand on his head basically all night.

"Tighter." Despite that he wanted to deny that he was anything but fine, if sober Ville could hear how high of a whine he was currently speaking to me in, he would've been beyond annoyed. You breathed out a silent laugh but threw your free arm around his side, your nails scratching gently against his back as you got comfortable.

He seemed satisfied with your level of closeness then, and you felt him deep-exhale against your face before he completely stopped moving and settled in your arms with his eyes finally closed.

For about 30 seconds.

Just as you were beginning to feel alcohol-induced unconsciousness creeping up on you, Ville suddenly reanimated, pulling out of your grasp slightly and turning before he sat up on one elbow.

"I have something for you." He announced, talking completely over your exasperated sigh at how hard it was to put him to bed when he had even an ounce of energy still in his system at the end of the night.

"Honey, just stay in bed. You can give it to me tomorrow." You reasoned tiredly, reaching a hand up to gently cup his face before you let it fall softly to his chest. He shook his head.

"No. I have it." And then, in confusion, you watched as he pulled both hands away from you and before beginning to focus on his fingers. "Give me your hand."

You weren't sure if you liked the idea of giving him your hand, but you did so, setting your hand palm-up in his lap. You then realized that he was taking one of his rings off, and you became even more confused.

And then he was taking your hand gently by the wrist, holding it up so that he could see clearly, and slipping his pinky ring that matched a set of ten onto your left hand ring finger. Funnily enough, it fit perfectly, and he looked extremely proud of the fact. You stared at your hand for a second.

"Are you..." You weren't sure, but there was a very good chance that a love-drunk, tired Ville would propose to you off of enough tequila. He shook his head gently.

"Not a proposal. I just want you to have it because I love you." For how drunk he was, his voice came out completely calm and collected, his hand still holding your wrist as his thumb brushed across your palm.

"Oh my god, you are such a fucking sweetheart. I love you too." You were grinning like an idiot again despite your attempts to remain as calm as he was, and you immediately reached up to hold the back of his head at the same time he dipped down so that you could kiss him. As soon as your lips were on his he was leeching right back into your touch, and he kissed back lazily as he shrouded himself in your arms. When you broke away for air, you pressed an extra kiss to his temple. "I'm glad you came home, love."

"I never want to be away from you again." Ville mumbled almost inaudibly as he buried his face in your shoulder, basically bear-hugging you as you rubbed his back gently. "Hold me forever."

Like you said; such a sweetheart. You did exactly that, holding him and dragging your nails softly up and down his back until you heard him starting to snore against your neck as his grip around you gently started to loosen. You were finally able to fall asleep once he was no longer basically squeezing you to death as you inhaled the gentle hint of his cologne that still stuck to him with the absence of his shirt.

God, life could not get any fucking better when it was like this.

#ville valo #ville valo x reader #ville valo fic #ville hermanni valo #HIM #his infernal majesty #bam margera #jackass #jackass imagine #jackass mtv #jackass movie #so incredibly self indulgent

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broke-art · 2 years

Text

Monkey King x reader (angst alert)

You you held the end of the bandages in your teeth as you reached for the scissors. A violent flinch racked your body as a crash sounded outside your door. You froze urging your ears to listen carefully for your father's footsteps.

Sure enough the drunken loud thumps headed your way. Panic roiled in your stomach and you leapt out of bed and raced to the door locking it. The knob clicked with his efforts to open the door and you backed away.

"Y/n... Open this door now." Your father ordered with a low voice.

You suddenly realized how bad that particular decision had been. He'd kill you for this. Unless... You looked out the window. You could do it. All you had to do was make it to flower fruit mountain.

Your friend wouldn't let him kill you. A slam on the door ripped you back to the present and urged a scream from you.

"I SAID OPEN THIS DOOR!" Your father roared.

Urgently you tossed what meager things you had in your school backpack after dumping out the school supplies and raced to the window.

The door behind you splintered and broke as you shoved the window open. Just then the door faltered and your father rushed at you.

You dove through the window and hit the pavement hard.

"That's it!" Your father yelled as you scrambled to your feet and took off in a run. "When I find you, you're as good as dead!"

Fear and panic pushed you to run faster. Then a motorcycle reeving spiked your fear throughout your gut. You dashed into an alleyway as your father followed you on his motorcycle.

He gained on what little lead you had earned with the window stunt. You barely escaped a grab he made for you by dashing through a small crevice which ripped off what bandages you had on your wounds. This caused them to bleed openly once again, but the adrenaline pushed you anyway.

The moment you got out of the crevice you climbed a fire escape and jumped from the close buildings but your could still hear your father's engine far too close to slow down.

Not long into your midnight escape you saw the beach and a terrible realization dawned. You had no boat, you would have to swim, then make it over the volcanic ring. You would never make it.

You leapt off a fire escape and headed to the beach. If you were fast enough, maybe you could swim far enough out that your father would give up. But just as you got close enough to wade into the water, your father caught your arm.

"Caught you! You little-"

"ENOUGH!" Monkey King yelled grabbing your father by the back of his collar and throwing him back.

"M-Monkey King!" You stammered as he stepped Infront of you protectively.

Your father stumbled to his feet with a shocked look.

And you saw Monkey King grind his teeth revealing his fangs.

"You are very lucky I have to take care of her first." He growled lowly. "I'll give you one chance to leave. Don't make the mistake of letting me see you again."

Your father backed away then ran rapidly.

Monkey King took in a deep breath then turned to you.

"Monkey King I- I-" You stammered trying to find the right words. But the only thing that came was the exhaustion and pain you had ignored. Tears brimmed in your eyes. "I'm sorry." You whimpered.

Monkey King grew a shocked and worried look. He pulled you against him cradling your head with a hand.

"Peaches, you have nothing to apologize for. I'm just glad you're ok." He hugged you tightly and you burst into sobs curling into his hold.

Monkey King allowed you to cry for a few minutes then glanced at your wounds.

"Ouch. Those look painful. C'mere." He lifted you bridal style and jumped on his cloud. He flew you all the way to flower fruit mountain then set you gently on his bed. "Wait here, and hold still." He instructed gently.

He took a cloth from a cupboard and dipped it in a bucket of water then walked back to you cleaning your wounds carefully.

As time passed, you found the silence uncomfortable so you decided to ask a question that had been bothering you.

"How did you find me? And how did you know I was in trouble in the first place?"

Monkey pulled up a stool and sat before applying a stinging ointment to your wounds.

You hissed but mostly tried to remain still as he spoke.

"Well, I heard your scream and I rushed over there. Then I used my eyes of truth to find you." He explained winding the bandages over your cuts and scrapes. "I actually found you before but uh, heh you're a pretty fast runner, Peaches." He winked up at you earning him a bright blush.

"Thank you for saving me." You mumbled staring at the bandages.

"You're welcome." Monkey responded with a grin. "So, looks like you're staying here for a while."

"What?!" You gasped. Your head snapped up.

"Yuuup." Monkey announced looking proud of himself. "I've decided. You're basically my prisoner until you heal entirely. No need to thank me."

"Thank you?!" You scoffed.

"You're welcome." Monkey King teased leaning close to you with a smirk. "Now, get some rest. Tomarrow you're starting training."

"What?!"

"Can't have that father of yours comin' back and hurting you while I'm busy. So we'd best teach you some skills of your own." Monkey King explained before grabbing some extra blankets. He glanced at your shocked and almost scared expression. "Aww c'mon kid. It won't be so bad. It'll be over before you know it-" He set the blankets down beside you. "Besides, I'll behave." He assured you with a wink. "Well mostly."

You blushed and burst into giggles.

"You flirt!"

Monkey King chuckled and walked out the door.

"Sleep well, kid. I'll be on the couch if you need anything."

You situated the bed and laid down as he shut the door. But the moment the portal closed his smile vanished.

"Now," He muttered "To take care of loose ends."

*Golly I hope this has enough angst for you all. I wanted to get your pulse pumping a bit. And some fluff in too. This was requested by Nayeli748444 I hope you enjoyed it!!*

#lego monkie kid #lego red son #jttw #jttw wukong #lego #lego monkie king #jttw sun wukong #lego nezha #lmk #redson #lmk sandy #lmk sun wukong x reader #lmk sun wukong #lmk monkey king x reader #lmk monkie kid #lmk monkey king

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imekitty · 2 years

Text

Star Error XI

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10

Star investigates Danny’s glowing freckles.

-----

"Star, is it true?" asked Paulina in the hallway after the last bell. "Did Danny really dump you?"

"Yeah, he did," whooped Dash. "Didn't you see it on TikTok?"

"Wait, it was caught on camera? Let me see!" cried Kwan.

Dash pulled up the video and played it for Kwan. They snickered and pointed at different moments in the video, mocking Fenton's words. Star imagined slapping the phone right out of Dash's hand and stomping on it over and over.

"Your face is so red, Star," laughed Dash. "Have you seen it?"

"Guys, lay off," said Paulina. "Star's our friend, in case you forgot."

"Come on, a dweeb like that dumping an A-List girl? That's priceless," said Dash.

"But did you really try to kiss Foley?" asked Kwan.

"She and Foley dated before," said Dash. "She was just going back to her ex."

"I was not!" squealed Star, stamping her foot. "And I didn't try to kiss him! I was just—ack!"

Star stormed off, ignoring Paulina's calls to come back. What was the point in trying to explain anything to them? Until she could prove Fenton's freckles glowed, they weren't going to believe her.

She had to find Fenton, confront him, demand to know where he even got the gall to humiliate her like that in front of the entire school.

She searched everywhere around the school, but Fenton seemed to be gone already. She checked the time. She was on the schedule to tutor a couple students but this was far more important.

She exited the school and ran entirely off campus. She hoped Fenton was at one of his known hangout spots around town, but she was willing to show up at the front door of Fenton Works at this point.

She spotted Fenton through a window in the Nasty Burger. He was chatting it up with Manson and Foley, looking very happy indeed as he laughed about something.

Star clenched her fists, her face red as she threw open the door into the restaurant and stomped up to Fenton's booth.

"Fenton!" she hissed through gritted teeth.

Fenton blinked and cocked his head. "Can I help you, Star?"

"You, me, outside," spat Star. "Now."

"Star." Fenton sighed and shook his head. "I'm sorry if this is hard for you, but we broke up."

"You broke up with her, if I remember correctly," said Foley cheekily, popping a fry into his mouth.

"Oh, that's right, I did," said Fenton with a smile.

"You don't even have to remember," said Manson, holding up her phone. "It's all on video."

Star became aware of a few Casper High students sitting at other tables. They were turning to stare, whispering behind their hands.

Star leaned over the table and lowered her voice. "Fenton. Don't make me ask you again."

"All right, all right. Just let me finish my milkshake."

Fenton picked up his shake and began drinking it through the straw. The seconds dragged on and on as he noisily slurped it all up. Star watched him, her eye twitching.

At last, Fenton popped the straw out of his mouth and loudly sighed, sounding quite satisfied. "That was so good. You really should get one, Star. I would buy you one, but we're no longer dating, as you know."

"We were never dating!" shrieked Star, about ready to pull out her hair.

"Ouch." Fenton pressed a hand over his heart. "Did our two-day relationship really mean so little to you?"

"Move it, Fenton!" ordered Star.

Fenton smirked as he slid out of the booth and followed Star out of the Nasty Burger and around to the back near the dumpsters. Star checked that no one was around before railing into him, forcing him up against a wall.

"What the hell was that at lunch?" demanded Star. "What were you even doing there? You were supposed to be in detention!"

"Oh, I was," said Fenton. "But Lancer let me out early, so I went looking for Sam and Tuck. Then Sam told me you took Tucker somewhere, and I decided to go find you."

"But why? I mean, why did you have to make such a scene?" Star huffed. "I mean, flowers? Really?"

Fenton grinned. "That was a nice touch, wasn't it? Sam has connections and was able to call up someone who could get them delivered super fast."

"But why did you tell everyone that you were dumping me? I don't get dumped, Fenton! Certainly not by freaky losers like you."

"Hey, don't try to make me the bad guy here. You were the one cheating on me."

Star slammed his shoulder into the wall. "Cut the shit, Fenton. You embarrassed me in front of the whole school."

"Oh, wow, did I?" Fenton's bottom lip trembled. "Being embarrassed in front of the whole school, that's rough, Star. I'm so sorry." He scratched behind his ear. "I mean, I can relate, because, you know, this one time, someone spread a rumor around the whole school that I tape pictures of girls to pillows and dolls and then use them to practice kissing."

"So this was your revenge, was it?"

Fenton shrugged. "Well, you were right that I'm too nice to make up a lie about you and spread it around, but I'm definitely not too nice to take advantage of my supposed girlfriend trying to weasel information out of my best friend by seducing him."

Star grimaced. "I wasn't seducing him."

"Oh? So what you were planning on doing when you were leaning in toward him with your lips all puckered?"

"I—they were not!"

"Star, I saw you. Why are you denying it?"

"But I wasn't really going to kiss him!" protested Star. "I just wanted him to think I was."

"Mmm hmm. Sure. Just like you wanted everyone to think I practice kissing on dolls and pillows."

"You have only yourself to blame for that." Star scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Really, Fenton, I just don't understand why this is such a big deal to you."

"Well, it's pretty embarrassing for everyone to think that I even need to practice kissing—"

"Not that!" hissed Star. "I'm talking about why you're so against everyone knowing about your glowing freckles. I don't get it."

"I wouldn't expect you to." Fenton narrowed his eyes. "But as I've already told you, this is something I have to keep secret. I can't let anyone know."

"Sam and Tucker know, don't they?"

"They're my best friends."

"Well, I know. You even confirmed it for me and let me ask questions about it. Why are you okay with me knowing?"

"I'm not." Fenton groaned. "But I was stupid and let you see them glow. I really hoped you'd leave it alone if I just satisfied your curiosity by answering a few questions."

"Nope," said Star. "I am still very, very curious."

Fenton turned and raised his forearm just above his head, pressing it to the wall as he leaned against it. He hung his head, sighing deeply. Star scrunched her mouth and folded her arms.

Nothing was said for a couple moments.

"Okay, look." Star held up her hands as a gesture of goodwill. "I'm getting real tired of all this back-and-forth tug-of-war between us—"

"You're only tired because I'm winning right now."

Star reddened. "Can we maybe just come to some kind of compromise?"

"Hmm." Fenton held his elbows. "What did you have in mind?"

"How about this? I'll stop trying to prove to everyone your freckles glow if you just tell me why they glow."

"I already told you why."

"No, I don't mean how to get them to glow by getting you excited about something. I mean what it is inside of you that makes it happen."

Fenton frowned and slumped against the wall.

"How did it all start?" asked Star. "I mean, you weren't born like that, right? I know you said it's the reason you can't donate blood, so obviously it's something in your blood that makes it happen, but what is it?"

Fenton shook his head. "I can't tell you that."

"Why not?"

"Because it's not a yes-or-no question."

Star's mouth hung open. Fenton smirked.

"Fenton, come on," whined Star. "I really promise to stop trying to prove your freckles glow if you just tell me why it happens."

"No," said Fenton, his smirk vanishing. "That's an even bigger secret I definitely don't want anyone to know."

Star pouted. "I can keep a secret."

"No, you can't," said Fenton. "Everyone knows you're the biggest gossip in school. You'll sell out anyone's secret if it's juicy enough."

Star raised a brow. "I highly doubt that your big secret is juicy, Fenton. It's probably something really dumb."

"Hmm. Well, you go on thinking that."

Star groaned. "Fenton, I'm trying to make peace with you here, put an end to all these silly pranks between us."

"You call making up a rumor that I practice kissing on dolls a 'silly prank'?"

Star sniffed and turned up her nose. "I could've done a lot worse, you know."

"Oh, I have absolutely no doubt about that," said Fenton. "I have no doubt that you're capable of sinking much lower than that."

Star narrowed her eyes at him and crossed her arms, her nose wrinkling as she exhaled sharply.

"Look, Star, I don't trust you. I really don't," said Fenton. "And you know you've given me no reason to trust you now."

"You're not still butthurt about that picture I took, are you?"

"It's everything, Star. It's everything you've been doing to me." Fenton paused to close his eyes and breathe a moment. "I don't trust you, but I promised you five yes-or-no questions, and you still have one left. So even though you really don't deserve even that much from me, I will answer a final question for you."

Star scrunched her mouth, gliding a manicured nail down her chin.

"But then can we please be done with all of this?" Fenton gestured to the air between them. "Can this game we're playing be over already?"

Star swished her lips back and forth a couple times. "So you won't make me go on a date with you? I can go ahead and ask whatever yes-or-no question I want and you'll answer it?"

"Well, I mean, we're kind of broken up now, but sure, we can go on another date if you want."

"It would be our first date, and no, there will be no date at all."

Fenton shrugged and crossed one leg over the other as he folded his arms and leaned back against the wall. He raised his eyebrows expectantly.

"I'm not asking here next to this dumpster. As if." Star scoffed. "Besides, I need some time to think about it."

"Well, when you think of something, let me know." Fenton kicked himself off the wall. "I'm going back inside." He started heading around to the front of the Nasty Burger.

"Wait!" Star called, holding out a hand to stop him. "I do have a different question. It's not a yes-or-no question, though."

Fenton turned, not looking at all irritated or tired but simply curious, the smallest of smiles tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Those flowers you gave me. How did you know orange is my favorite color?" asked Star.

Fenton chuckled. "I heard you mention it to Paulina in class once."

"What, so you were spying on us? Eavesdropping?"

"It's not eavesdropping if you're talking loud enough for everyone to hear."

Star scowled but could feel herself blushing as well.

"Did you like them?" asked Fenton. "The orange flowers."

"Um. Yeah." Star shrugged, remembering how she placed the bouquet in her locker because she couldn't bring herself to throw it away just yet. "I liked them okay."

"I liked them, too," said Fenton. "I thought they were really pretty."

Fenton gave her a small wave before walking away and disappearing around the corner of the Nasty Burger. Star groaned and released a sigh.

Part 12

#danny phantom #star error #imekitty writes #star rainsdon #danny fenton #tucker foley #sam manson #danny/star

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lendmyboyfriendahand · 10 months

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more in my Silmaril Saga of Scholomance

The first problem is the people on horses pointing swords at them.

The second problem is that the language they speak is totally unfamiliar.

And the soldier-cosplayers don't speak English. Or Swahili, or Spanish, or any other language Elrond speaks.

(The third problem is that Elros has now picked up how to say "I'm sorry, we're very lost. Do you have a phone to call our parents?" in half a dozen languages. He hopes the Scholomance doesn't give him spells in all of them - though at least Elrond will be there to help him out.)

It's still very clear that the people with swords are suspicious of Elros and Elrond.

They initially gesture for the twins to dump their bags right there on the muddy path.

Elros mimes losing things in the grass, and then gestures at the castle. He gestures dumping the bags.

There's a bit of conversation among the people with swords, but they eventually nod, and agree that the twins can empty the bags at the castle.

It's not as good as getting to actually keep their possessions, but it gives them a chance of recovering the things they'll desperately need to survive.

(Although Elrond has never heard of an induction happening late. They might not get the Scholomance at all, just living with the Feanorians for four more years, hoping that they aren't such alluring bait for mals that Caranthir refuses to let them share a house with his son.)

(And it won't even help if their mother sends the Silmaril, in a house that's very well warded but far from the Void. They'll have the mana they earn, and as much protection as the Feanorians wish to give them. No more.)

Elrond and Elros continue up the hill, surrounded by strangers on horses pointing swords at them.

Elrond tries to be polite, and introduce himself. Even Amras had looked at Elrond less as dead weight when he started calling him by name, rather than just "one of Elwing's brats".

"Elrond." He taps his chest.

The nearest soldier laughs, but the leader looks tense.

Elrond hopes his name just sounds like a swear word in this language, not a threat or insult. He tries again. "Elrond, my name is Elrond. My brother's name is Elros." He taps Elros's chest, then points at the one who laughed - though he keeps his finger very firmly in his own personal space, far from the sword at the man's hip. "What's your name?"

"Cirmacin." And then the man shook his head and said a long sentence containing Elrond and Elros's names, and a sideways gesture that Elrond couldn't interpret but was unsettlingly near to the height of his neck.

If introducing himself was already leading to death threats, Elrond ought to keep quiet.

That just gave him more time to worry though. He tried sending messages to Elros through their rings, but then he stumbled and lost track of the dots and dashes.

Besides, there was no real way to plan, not until they knew why these people were so offended by them.

Elros's message of "Amish but older and swords" was one guess as to what was happening, but incomplete. Elrond had just replied "ears", as the idea of a cult eschewing all modern technology except plastic surgery was even stranger.

The walk to the castle was only a mile, but it took far too long. Especially as neither twin had eaten breakfast or drank water that morning.

Elrond tried etymologies to pass the time. Cirmacin didn't speak Latin, but maybe his name was in it? Or Greek?

He nearly fell over when he realized it. This man with a sword was named in the conlang that Feanor invented - named "sharp edge", even!

Had the Feanorians been teaching everyone except the twins their father's secret language? Including a band of historical reenactors with bad tempers? It made no sense!

Still, Elrond wanted his twin to know. "Name is Feanor's conlang."

Both Elrond and Elros spoke it, but Elros had studiously avoided the habit of guessing a word's root language. The number of loanwords in English made it too great a risk.

Elrond was not expecting his brother to act on the information, they just tried not to keep secrets, and two heads were better than one to figure out what was going on.

Elrond was certainly not expecting Elros to immediately ask, "I still intend to go to the castle, but can anyone understand me?" in the language the two of them had been told for years was as great a secret as the Silmaril itself.

Nor was he expecting the leader of the soldiers to draw his sword and command a halt in the same language.

"How long were you planning to keep the naive act up, little spies?"

#silm #silmaril saga of scholomance #kidnap dads #my fic #my writing #silmarillion #spoiler: the gesture at Elrond's neck height is not a threat the behead him #it's a reference to the height of the Elrond that Cirmacin knows already

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kissitbttr · 9 months

Note

TJANK FUCKING GOD YOURE TALKING ABOUT THE R@PE SHIT IN THIS FANDOM. I'm actually in disbelief of how often it's being written. And I get the whole 'dont like, then scroll' and whatever, but when I open up my dash/tags and the first FIVE FUCKING FICS are r@pe fics???? And there's more every day, by the same, but also newer writers??? Wanna know what that is? Normalization. There's one blog on here that's so so so bad for it. And honestly, I get darker content, and I get the interest in rape from a psychological and conditional aspect, but that is when it's being taken seriously. These writers on here? Yeah, they're not fucking taking it seriously. If I see one more '💕🌷🎀' on a r@pe fic, I'm going to fucking lose it.

I can't imagine showing a survivor of SA one of these fics and telling them there is more like it. Like... How embarrassing. But the excuse is that the writers were SA'd and that this is the way they can work through their trauma. Personally, that literally does not add up to me. But! I'm not a psychologist so I can't dictate how someone works through their trauma. But, I can have an opinion on what they put on a public domain. And that's where the whole COD fandom issue lies. There is literally no healthy discourse. If you ask someone why they write about r@pe, they either block you, publicly slander you like you're the idiot for asking about a r@pe fic (???), or tell you to fuck off or something. Like... Why can't we just have a healthy discussion about it?? ESPECIALLY in a fandom with a pretty large female following. We SHOULD be talking about this not being hostile to each other, writers and readers alike.

Idk, sorry for the word dump. I spent four hours talking to a friend about this (who doesn't have Tumblr) and the general consensus was the same. I wish people could just think a little more critically. Just because you have a kink, or think somethings hot, doesn't always mean it's okay. And when you're consistently writing about it as a way to work through it, and posting it online, that just might be a sign that you should talk to a professional, cause there's nothing wrong with getting a second opinion.

took the fucking words outta my mouth babe. you are so RIGHT

tbh i never seen someone actively open about their trauma and say that they write the r*** fics as a way for them to cope. that’s definitely new to me. i mean, i’m no expert too and i can’t exactly say and tell them how to feel but yea that’s a little… bizarre. whether or not they’re using that as an excuse so they can write it i have nothing to say abt that. but if it’s a lie then they can go fuck themselves.

it’s not only this fandom i believe, right? there’s gotta be more and that’s the most fucked up thing about it. like i do not need to know you’re some mentally fucked individual who enjoys writing and reading about r*** content, u keep that shit to yourself. do not bring that bullshit here.

it’s pretty saddening to know that telling ppl to fuck off is their only response. which makes me realized that they are only good for one thing. how could you not have any ounce of decency in you to actually be aware of those things and realize that r*** is not okay and will never be okay?? I don’t care what’s the excuse or whatever reasons u want to bring to the table. if u don’t wanna talk about how r*** takes the joy out of a SA victim and leave a permanent scar in which they have to live with everyday, then there is no point in writing them at all.

and also, you know what saddens me more? the blogs that normally write them comes from women. because, man… you should’ve known better… you should’ve known that no woman on earth could ever live in peace knowing that one exact fear is the reason why we are so terrified of going out alone. why we are so terrified of men. why would you ever go out your way and change these beautiful characters to be some sort of evil spawn ?? weird ass bitches.

don’t be sorry for the word dump!! because i’m glad that some of you came into my inbox and expressed your thoughts about this particular bullshit.

they do need to get some help. and i mean this in the most nicest and disrespectful way possible tbh.

#anon #answered #also… which blog u talking abt cause i need to block em

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vukovich · 11 months

Text

20 questions for fic writers!

Thank you @orange-peony @schmem14 and @teledild0nix for tagging me in this game! Sorry it took me eons.

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

47. 46 under "Vukovich" and one that's anonymous.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

921,870

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Just Harry Potter.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

The Crane Lord of Gringotts Beauxtiful Boy "I'll Figure It Out" It'll Come Back Fearful Trill

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

No, as a general rule, I don't. I just feel like it's awkward to treat an AO3 comment as a conversation starter, I guess. Like, if someone wants to talk to me, my email address and Tumblr are in my AO3 bio. I do reply to AO3 comments if there's a question about the fic. Especially if the reader says their first language isn't English. I also will reply for the purpose of harassing friends.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Return to Sender and "I love you, (too/also)" are way up there in the angst department. For "I love you, (too/also)" I actually recorded a podfic of it, and I couldn't read the ending out loud without crying so I scrapped it. NO WAIT!!! I forgot about The Seven Weasley Horcruxes. Oh, Jeebus. Apologies in advance for that one.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Probably Eagles in Truro, just for the sake of everyone getting to have their polyamorous cake and eat it too.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Yes. Just... yes. Big yes.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yeah, most of my fics are explicit. I'm not really sure what kind of smut I write. I feel like my smut is probably more graphic than some. More jizz dripping on the floor and errant pubes in teeth than what's fandom typical.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

No, I can barely hold the HP universe in my head.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't think so.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yeah, several of them. I think it's cool as hell. If it's a language I'm familiar with, I help with phrasings and subtext and stuff.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yeah. I have a WIP collection that people can leave unfinished fics in, and then I finish them. And I'd say when I collaborate with an artist, there's enough back and forth that it counts as co-writing. Oh! And there's a WIP with @oknowkiss and @mintawasalreadytaken I'll eventually get back to writing, I swear, you guys, for real, I will finish that shower piss scene.

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

Joker/Harley Quinn, actually.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

OMG just one?! I have (briefly leaves to check Google Docs) about 100k in unfinished fics, plus outlines for about ten more. I think those are all going to get dumped as-is on AO3 in an anonymous collection, and I'm only going to finish the ones I'm actively posting (Seahorse, Glitch, 24k9).

16. What are your writing strengths?

Weird turns of phrase, I guess. Or at least that's what people tell me. I feel like I'm pretty good at not bogging down the pace with descriptions, but some people like to know the threadcount when they read smut. Honestly, I have way more strengths as an editor than as a writer.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Complete disregard for the em dash. If I were meant to use it, it would have a key on the standard QWERTY keyboard. I even bought an expensive-ass keyboard, programmed an em dash key for it, and still didn't use it. It wasn't meant to be. Who would like to buy a very fancy keyboard? I will also die on my double-spacing at the end of sentences hill. Going down with this typewriter skills ship. Maybe YOUR language evolves over time, but mine's stuck in 1987.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

That's one of my favorite puzzles. How comprehensible can I make the foreign language excerpt solely through the use of cognates and cues? Love it. 10/10.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

My most masterful works of fiction are letters of recommendation. But this sonnet is fun.

Tagging everybody already tagged, as well as @peachpety @@epitomereally @tontonguetonks @diligent-thunder @wheezykat @lou-ifyouwant @corvuscrowned

#tag game

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mikareo · 10 months

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(DOVE OMG IDK IT SAID I UNFOLLOWED U but i think it was on accident or smth and lwky it was weird bc i didn’t see u on my dash lately :// i’m so sorry for that !!! i feel so bad i’m so sorry ;-; !!)

but i just saw that u were holding matchups, so i was wondering if i could provide a submission ? one for complete matchups, if possible <3

for blue lock, btw !

in a separate ask (thank u sm <3)

male, and around teenage years

sfw pls and thank u :))

i think i’m a v honest person, and i suppose i don’t mind saying what’s on my mind if i’m close to u. but to others, i filter what i say, and i tend to “people please” by saying what might be favourable to them. i’m really introverted and shy lol, it takes me a while to warm up to someone, but when i do, i’m pretty extroverted and loud :,) i think i’m also realistic, and i can sometimes be pessimistic, but i’m trying to be more hopeful about the future lately hehe. i feel like i’m also often trying to take care of my friends, and it’s like i’m the mother of the group ;-; and i would say that i’m quite empathetic, so a lot of the times, my friends do come to me for advice or just to hear some comforting words. i’m an infj :) and i’m a cancer ! i go by she/her !!

i like to write, read, and draw sometimes (not v good at it but it’s a calming activity imo). i also like to watch kdramas and anime <3 they’re probably one of my favourite things in the world !! and i like to cook (baking not so much idk why)—it’s also kinda therapeutic. i also love shopping, but specifically shopping for my things (idk how to feel ab grocery shopping :/)

ideal dates would probably have to be like art galleries, cafe dates, a picnic date w like painting activities hehe, a spontaneous trip out in the city, or a stay-at-home date where we just do wtv and enjoy each other’s company <33

thank u so so much ! hope that i included all necessary info, and pls (maybe) have fun w this !!

(i’m quite excited to do ur submission for my event too hehe <33 and so sorry ab the unfollowing I FEEL SO BAD </3)

💌 ✮⋆˙ love letter to...yoisami!

saki!!!! i honestly didn't even notice u unfollowed me so dw abt it really!! girl u are SO pretty omg!! like the vibes u give off are so fairy princess,, i love that for u <33 also,, before u open this post (if u haven't alr LOL) it's like...really really long bc i have a lot to say abt this particular character ajskfl i haven't even finished writing everything yet while i'm typing this,, but i alr know it's going to have such a long wc for a matchup (1.2k pls),, i rlly hope u like it tho!! complete matchups are always so fun bc they're just a total brain dump for me :3 (p.s. i'm also so so excited for what color u come up w for me n isagi EEEK) also i dunno if i said it alr,, but i rlly love the little selfship drawing u have on ur navi,, it's so cute!!

[ ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ ᰔ ] your complete matchup results!

⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀ APPEARANCE PAIRING ! congratulations . . .‧₊˚��✩NIJIRO NANASE₊˚🌿⊹♡

with gentle features that seemingly express lots of emotion; no doubt, the two of you would be considered a visual couple and have countless onlookers wishing they were with either of you. nijiro only cares about your eyes, though. he's not bothered by the lovestruck stares and greedy thoughts the passing women have. he only needs to make you smile. that's his one and only goal.

⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀ PERSONALITY PAIRING ! congratulations . . .‧₊˚🍙✩YOICHI ISAGI₊˚⚽️⊹♡

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ chemistry analysis . . .

okay this actually was so easy for me to settle on, i literally read your personality info and the first person who came to mind was isagi. i weighed out all the other options, but no one else really clicked in my head other than him. i think about this man like so often; and knowing so much about him, there's no doubt that you two would be so compatible!

one thing that really stood out to me amidst all of isagi's personality traits, is his perceptiveness. obviously he's extremely good at reading the field, but his true talent is reading people. while you're very introverted and tend to keep to yourself at first, he'd be able to figure out a way to make you feel comfortable around him upon the first introduction. he wouldn't be alarmed by your shyness, but rather intrigued and he'd want to understand you better; in fact, he'd make it a challenge for himself to do so. immediately, he'd be able to notice the difference between you telling the truth and you trying to 'people please'— but no matter which one is occurring, he wouldn't call you out on it. he'd trust that you're saying and doing whatever you feel comfortable with, and respect that. he'd also enjoy your outgoingness once you finally open up to him, and his favorite thing in the world would be whenever he's able to make you laugh. isagi loves a girl who laughs a lot whilst showing a beautiful smile; and he'd wish he had a photographic memory just to revisit that look on your face when he's struggling on the field, in need of some comfort.

i don't necessarily think you two are total opposites, but there are definitely some things that you differ on; one being his optimism vs. your pessimism. isagi is someone who lives on adrenaline and keeping his head in the clouds. he believes that everything will work out for him so long as he continues to practice and find a new solution; however, he needs someone who can keep him grounded. if he spends too much time in the clouds, his feet will never come back to earth. with your realist perspective, you can tell him when he needs to focus or lock in on a goal— whilst also making sure that he isn't getting too ahead of himself. the reverse is also true. he uses his extreme optimism and drive to encourage you to take those chances that you normally wouldn't with your realism holding you back. he wants you to fly in the cloud with him, and looks forward to that safe landing he knows you'll bring. you keep him from flying away. he makes sure you're not stuck to the ground forever.

even though he's an optimist, isagi is so hard on himself. he beats himself up after every game even if he's the one who scored the winning goal. to him, there's nothing more important than improving; which is why your advice is so valuable. if anything, you'd surely be his rock in the midst of the chaos of his football career. he'd rely on you when he's feeling down and go to you whenever he needs some words of encouragement. with those words, he'd close his eyes and try to recall them— recite them— before he has a game (it's his good luck charm) and feel so much stronger. your the person he looks up to most. it's not noel noa. it's you. he hangs onto your every word, his attention is undivided, because he knows that you only want the best for him. your advice is selfless, and yes, maybe he is selfish for asking for it so often, but can you blame him? you're the shining sun when he's rained off the field and the sweeping waves when he visits the beach. your physical and emotional beauty astonish him.

on his off days, isagi loves to go for walks, read manga, or simply stay at home with you. surely, he'd be the one to hand you your sneakers and tell you that there's a new cafe open downtown that he wants to try— knowing full well that you've been looking forward to it for weeks. when the two of you are walking through the city, he's bound to take a few pictures with fans; and while you're holding up the phone telling them to say 'cheese', isagi smiles after, telling the strangers: "isn't my girlfriend so cute?" he's such a character. if you choose to spend the day at home, baking and such, he tries his best to help out in the kitchen. though, it never really works out as planned. isagi has his certain skills, baking not being one of them (i.e. soccer being the only one) which causes your sweets to be a little lopsided. however, his company isn't a burden as he makes you giggle and smile with his quips and encouragements as you try a new recipe. isagi loves spending time with you when he can, and he makes sure to make the most of it.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ memories on the wall . . .

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ a treasured moment . . .

your boyfriend is someone who thinks on his feet, pre-planning has never really been his thing, which is why it was no surprise when he laced up your sneakers and led you to the train station with no prior warning. "c'mon, that new cafe opened in ginza." is what he'd said to you; trying to sound spontaneous, even though he so obviously remembered you've been looking forward to it for months now.

the two of you are nearly there, just a few blocks away since you somehow got off the train two stops too early, when a pair of middle school (?) girls stop you in your tracks. "excuse me, do you mind if we get a photo with you isagi?" to which he gladly accepts.

naturally, you offer to take the photo, being used to your boyfriend's adoring fans and tell the girls to smile big. it's so adorable the way his face lights up whenever he's able to share his passion for football with someone new. you love that beaming look on his face and are so grateful that you get to look at that grin every day of your life.

"the girl taking the photo..." isagi begins to say to the fans, worrying you that he's about to make some joke that you won't find funny. "she's my girlfriend." aw.

they both nod at his words, commenting on how pretty they think you are, before he continues to speak.

"isn't she gorgeous?"

he always knows how to make you blush. damn him.

"you're a flirt, yoichi." you shake your head, giggling softly as you hand the phone back to the girls. "i can't take you anywhere, can i?"

he reaches out, lovingly clasping his large hand over yours and kisses your temple. it's a very public display of romance, but he made sure to cover your face while doing so, knowing that you tend to get a little embarrassed by those sort of things. "i'm the luckiest man in the world." his voice is so caring, so loving. "i'm going to tell everyone i'm yours whenever i get the chance."

(i am literally a mess when it comes to isagi jasfdkl this brain dump was lethal)

#this is SO LONG LMFAO #lit could write an essay on this chara #matchups ₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎#txt.yoisami

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