#wrote and edited this in one go

[justhyperfixiating]

Paris x Reader (Platonic)

Paris gets some Rest

You were reading a book when two little hands appeared on the top edge of it, and pulled down, revealing two big, red eyes.

"Oh, hello, Paris."

"Hi." His raspy voice had changed to suit how small he was. It still threw you off sometimes.

You rested the book on your chest slowly, and Paris crawled over it and into the nook in-between your arm and your chest. You waited for him to get comfy before resuming your book.

It was a slow day, today. Nothing much was happening, and everyone was taking advantage of the opportunity to rest. Lily was playing her games in the other room, and Yumi was completing a puzzle on the floor while cuddling with one of her newer plushies. And it seemed Paris wanted to siphon some body heat from you.

But after a good while of enjoying his presence (and him enjoying yours), your throat began to get dry.

You gently shifted your arm to wake Paris, "Paris?"

"Mm"

"I need to go get something to drink. And maybe something to eat, too, I could get you a blanket and some pillows if you want."

"I'd. Like to stay with you. If you're alright with that."

"That's alright."

You put a bookmark in your book, and set it aside before carefully getting up, adjusting your hold on Paris as you got on your feet.

"Are you comfy enough?"

"Mhm."

"Okay. Let me know if you get uncomfortable."

Getting to the kitchen was easy enough, but when you started thinking through the process of making yourself a mug of tea, you had an idea. Maybe Yumi and Lily would like something?

Of course, making three mugs of tea would be challenging with one arm, but one of the two girls could come and help.

You pulled out your phone and texted Lily.

<Hey Lily>

<wat>

<Would you or yum like tea>

Damn autocorrect

<id like tea>

<let me ask ymui>

<Could one of you help me make the tea?>

<I only have one arm available>

<?>

You took a photo of you and Paris. He was . . . asleep probably wasn't the right word, but he certainly wasn't conscious. Paris's face was in the crook of your neck and he was almost completely limp.

<littleguy.img>

<omg>

<holy shit>

<i will help you for no reason in particular>

You heard Lily swiftly pad down the hallway before she slowed down and entered the kitchen. After a bit of her stifling her laughter at Paris being small and 'asleep', you two got to work.

You started by grabbing the mugs for everyone while Lily put the electric kettle on. While you two worked, Paris would occasionally let out a few quiet clacks. Neither of you knew if that was the sound of him waking up, so both you and Lily would pause whenever he started just to be safe. And when he stopped, you two were a bit more conscious of the noise you were making.

After several more minutes of this odd game of Red Light, Green Light, three warm mugs of tea were ready. Lily reached for her phone and started typing. Your phone vibrated, and she showed you her screen.

<wanna vibe in the same room? yumi wanted to hang out.>

You fumbled to unlock your phone.

<Not sure how Paris will react, but he has known you two longer>

<hell be embarrassed for five secs tops>

<If you say so. I'm good to hang out>

<ok. ill grab uymi, u go baack to ur book>

You pocketed your phone and gave her a thumbs up, then turned around to grab your mug. Lily padded off with the other two mugs to collect Yumi, and you went to go sit back down with your tea and Paris.

Once you got settled in, Yumi tip-toed up to the couch you were sitting on and wordless joined Paris by cuddling into your arm on the same side as him. She held her mug with both hands, careful to not spill the hot liquid all over the three of you. Lily came in a few seconds after, and quietly took a picture before joining the cuddle pile.

Yumi was the first to start softly snoring, and eventually Lily turned her game off. Soon after that, the words on the page started to blur together, and you decided to stop where you were and rest your eyes, too.

A few hours later, Paris 'woke up' and froze when he realized that he was in the middle of/ on top of three sleeping humans. Then he noticed the mugs. Each of the mugs had gotten into precarious positions and a stray toss or turn could cause one of them to fall onto the floor.

Paris carefully crawled off of the cuddle pile and transitioned into his more humanoid form, and he quickly collected up the mugs and went to go wash them.

The small waterfall was quite loud in comparison to the quiet breathing he was surrounded by just a few minutes ago. After a few seconds, he acclimated to the sound of the running tap and started cleaning the cups.

It soothed him to gently wipe away the stains. While the mugs were solid colors, removing the discolorations were like revealing an intricate pattern. He much prefered this to that teeth grinding game of round up Ivan had him going on.

Ivan. He'd almost forgotten about that old fool. Not that he could forget his creator. Not even when he was locked up in that box and completely replaced.

A particularly loud snore from the other room broke his train of thought.

He looked down and saw that he broke the handle of the mug he was washing.

Oops.

Lily could cover for that. Right?

Paris listened for any more signs of the three of you waking up while he cleaned the other mugs. Only so he wouldn't be surprised if one of you came up behind him. No other reason.

Paris thought of Darla and Dorthy.

Nope. No other reason.

When Paris was done cleaning up your (admittedly small) mess, he watched the three of you as you slept for a few moments.

Then he shook his head and let out a sigh before shrinking back down and snuggling back into your body heat. No reason to stay awake if everyone else was asleep, he supposed.

---

Nora took a photo when she got home, of course, and then woke everyone up. The characters aren't the most in character, but i did my best and im rather proud of how this turned out.

Edit: fixed some formatting errors, don't know how I missed them on mobile

[lgbtlunaverse]

There's a version of the "don't go grocery shopping while hungry" rule specifically for writers where you should never under any circumstances be allowed to touch your draft within 3 hours of reading a really good story. Because sometimes when you read something great your head goes "fuck this is so much better than my stuff I should make that more like THIS instead!" Look at me. That's the devil talking and you should close the document NOW.

[saltpepperbeard]

Edward Teach in the OFMD Season 2 Trailer [x]

[abelle25125]

Part 2 to this post of my understanding of one piece characters from OPLA, 70-ish episodes of the anime and cultral osmosis - this time with a slightly better understanding of how to use ms paint

again, please not spoilers im only on episode 96

[cartoonjessie]

Matangi's tone is taunting, but Maui's confidence hasn't been broken - yet. "And you'll finish it?" she asks, hiding in the shadows. "Team up with your precious..." Suddenly she's in his ear. "...human again?" Realizing Matangi can see right through him, Maui tries to strike at her with a grunt, but she's already gone. Her laughter fills the cavern, and Maui realizes he's made a mistake by showing her he cares. Trying to bluff his way out of this situation, he replies: "Team? You mean that girl with the canoe and that goofy little chicken? We weren't a team. I just used her to get my hook." Mini Maui, not bright enough to see what Maui is doing, gets insulted on Moana's behalf, slapping him painfully in the chest, to which Maui eyes him in frustration. If only his tattoo could play along, maybe they could stop painting a larger target on Moana's back.

[aq2003]

really love how throughout a lot of smith and jones martha is really skeptical and apprehensive towards ten (+ one of my favorite exchanges between them - "what, people call you 'the doctor'?" "yeah?" "well, i'm not. far as i'm concerned, you've got to earn that title."), not taking everything he says at face value, even doubting the fact he's an alien until over halfway through the episode.. And like. i really truly think the thing that wins her over isn't him kissing her or any of the other insane mixed messages he manages to send, it's this scene here, where he /earns that title/ in her eyes:

(+ david's bit in the commentary, where he says: "[the doctor] has actually sacrificed himself, and - i would say, that that final act of selflessness is what finally, eventually, welds martha to him. [...] and she now returns it. she returns that act of selflessness.")

this is what their relationship is built on. it isn't about martha being the second-best replacement to rose or a rebound or whatever. bc it isn't really about rose. it's about doctor-in-training martha meeting someone (quite literally, "the doctor") whose ideals she aspires to, and doing her best to be the same person to him as he is to everyone else. it's about ten in return admiring her intelligence and inquisitiveness and how she cares for human life, recovering his compassion, letting himself lean on her for support - and then remembering at the most inopportune moments that he's supposed to not need anyone and be on his own forever. And around in their little nightmare loop they go where they save each other over and over until one of them breaks

i've seen ppl look at martha and go "why she does she admire/why is she so in love with ten if he acts like that to her?" or something along those lines and like. it's not just the fact she's in love with him (in fact i'd argue she actively tries to push it aside post-gridlock). it's the fact that she knows he's the kind of person to put everyone else's lives/well-being over his own. she trusts him to save her when she's in trouble even though it's been like two days at most that they've known one another bc she recognizes that same "deep all-encompassing drive to help others" in him. and she also recognizes, much much earlier than him, that he needs someone to save him, especially when he's unwilling to save himself. and yeah for a bit she thinks he returns her feelings and is just playing hard-to-get, but she realizes pretty early on that this probably isn't the case, and i think that realization fully solidifies here:

(this is when she's listening to ten talk abt gallifrey). And idk it might just be me but i think this expression isn't just her empathizing with his loss. it's also guilt, for wanting something from him that he's clearly unable to give when he's wracked with so much grief. (and you see it in the next episode, where tallulah asks if they're together and martha says for certain that they're not, and that he doesn't know about her feelings for him. she keeps everything to herself bc she now knows that when he shut her flirting down at the end of 3x01 it was the genuine reaction of someone who a) isn't interested and b) is scared of getting close with someone else again)

freema described their dynamic as "she's keener than him" and i think about this all the time. martha doesn't really take what ten throws at her. what she does instead is constantly poke holes in his already-failing front of "i will show someone the wonders of the universe so i can ignore what is wrong with me". what she does is stand up and fight him when he tries to go off on his own. what she does is put aside her well-being in favor of helping someone - just like what she saw him do for the people in the hospital when they first met. tldr, that's the doctor and his doctor and rip martha you would've loved who's gonna save u now by rina sawayama

[updownlately]

in your embrace (this crowded room doesn’t matter)

| leah williamson x reader

~~~

“You tired yet?” The soft murmur of words against your ear had you relaxing, the familiar voice automatically putting you at ease. 

Closing your eyes at the feel of her breath on your ear, you hummed in thought, processing the question as music filtered in from the speakers near you. 

Continuing to sway gently in the dim light, you tightened your grasp around Leah’s neck and pulled back ever so slightly, your eyes meeting blue ones.

“Not quite yet. Are you?” 

“I don’t think I can ever be tired while being in your arms…” 

Smiling shyly, you shook your head. “Half past midnight and your flirting just doesn’t stop huh?”, you questioned. 

The cheeky shrug and teasing smile you received in response had you quietly laughing, you tucking yourself back into the crook of the blonde’s neck, letting her guide you as the song changed. 

You both had spent the day celebrating love, having been invited to an old teammate’s wedding.

Partying hard through the better part of the evening and night, on the dance floor with friends and teammates, Leah had whisked you away a short while ago, just as the slow songs had once again come on, more than glad to finally get some time alone with you after the hectic day. 

The pair of you had ended up tucked near the back, lost in your own world as song after song had played, tons of other couples rotating on and off the dance floor as you two stuck around.

“I can’t believe we managed to make it on time…”

The quiet statement had Leah groaning in playful annoyance, her grip on your waist tightening.

“Not my fault you’re a distraction!”

“Me? I was ready on time…hair and makeup both done long before Uber had arrived. And if I recall correctly, it wasn’t me putting on lipstick and blush in the car, love.” 

Your hushed jest had the blonde hanging her head back, your pace slowing as she chuckled quietly at the memory. 

“At least the music was decent this time.”

Biting back a smile, you followed Leah’s movement without thinking, mind occupied recalling the morning before the wedding ceremony. 

Though the pair of you had woken up on time- a miracle if you were asked, considering it was a Saturday off- you had somehow managed to spend a tad bit (read: over an hour) too long in bed, more content with lazily cuddling as the time ticked by, you both blissfully unaware until your warning alarm had rung.

It had been a scramble to get ready in time for the wedding, the both of you running around the apartment grabbing all that you needed, you claiming the main ensuite and ushering Leah and her suit to the guest one so that you could both be ready to go.

Even with your strategic separation, the blonde had ended up over in your shared bedroom, eventually roped into zipping you up and helping you with your jewelry. 

Somehow, helping you out had turned into a small make out session, and well, if Leah had to fight the bumps on the road as she sang along to the radio whilst sorting out the final touches on her make up as the result of the time lost, you definitely weren’t the one complaining, more than content with your finished look and the presence of the blonde beside you. 

Snapping out of your thoughts as you heard the familiar strumming of your favourite James Arthur song play, you pulled back to smile at Leah, the blonde returning the sentiment as she tugged you ever so closer, your faces mere inches apart.

Matching grins on your faces, you matched your steps with Leah, softly waltzing under the dimmer lights in the back, satisfied with the knowledge that you would likely not be bothered, more than happy to be consumed in your own world, in your love. 

“…I’m so in love with you…and I hope you know…,” Leah sang lowly, just loud enough for you to hear. 

Finishing her line, you smile grew as you continued the song. “…darling, your love is more than worth its weight in gold…” 

“…we've come so far, my dear…look how we've grown…and I wanna stay with you until we're grey and old…just say you won't let go…”

Voice dropping as you let the midfielder finish the stanza, you shook your head in amazement, blush coating your cheeks as your thought of how lucky you were. 

Head tilting as the soft hue reflected perfectly off of Leah’s eyes, you took a second to admire the darker colour that they appeared to be, as well as the rest of your girlfriend.

“You look absolutely incredible in this dim light- the way it’s perfectly highlighting your jawline and cheekbones, you’re gorgeous. And it’s somehow making your eyes nearly look this ethereal navy colour. Never thought they could get prettier but here we are…” You let your voice trail off, the quiet murmur over the music disappearing as you traced over the facial features of the one you loved, noting the rosy hue that covered her cheeks at your compliment. 

Rubbing your thumb comfortingly on the nape of Leah’s neck, you watched her wordlessly accept your compliment, her eyes not meeting your gaze telling you that Leah appreciated your comment. Picking up your pace once again and tightening your hold around her shoulders, you brought yourselves closer, picking up the pace to match the new song that played, an Ed Sheeran one this time. 

Taking a second to break out of your bubble as the song faded out, you took a look around the hall, realizing you were the only couple left on the dance floor, even the straggling drunk folks having sat down or headed out. 

Glancing up at your watch, eyes widening as you saw the time had nearly hit half past one, you slowed down your pace, looking around once more only to notice even the DJ wasn’t at their station, likely a playlist the source of the music playing. 

Bringing Leah’s attention to the station as you stopped dancing, you cast the blonde a look of disbelief before bursting out into laughter. 

“Leah, I can’t believe we’ve stayed out here that long…everyone else’s nearly gone!”

And as Leah’s head swivelled around in search for your friends, well aware that the newly-wed couple had headed out a little while ago, you held back your laughter, amazed at how the time flew by as you both had spent the nearly two hours dancing together, lost in each other’s embrace, completely blind to everyone else’s presence (or lack thereof) in the room. 

Turning back to you with a shocked look on her face, the blonde just barely managed to sputter out her next words. “We surely couldn’t have been dancing for that long, right?”

“Leah, I really think we ‘J-Lo’d’ this and very much have ‘danced the night away’,” you responded, giggling at your horrible joke. 

Shaking her head amusedly at the lame line, the blonde grabbed your hand, leading you towards your table. 

“I wish we could’ve danced a bit longer…forever even…” 

Wrapping your arm around Leah’s waist, you brought your joined hands up to your lips, placing a kiss on the back of her hand before stopping her in her tracks and nudging her to look at you, your voice just loud enough for you two to hear.

“How about this...at our wedding, you and I’ll make sure to dance until both our feet ache, okay?” 

Looking up into eyes shining with unspoken love, you let yourself be pulled into Leah’s embrace, sinking happily into the emotion-filled kiss being placed on your lips- the unsaid agreement clear.

Basking in the pure adoration, you held on tightly to Leah, grip only loosening as Leah pulled back, her wiping the slightly smudged lipstick gently off your face. Blonde head nodding vigorously, her response was enthusiastic. 

“I think I’d love that.”

Balancing on your tiptoes, you placed a final chaste kiss on the blonde’s lips as if to agree to the final decision before grabbing her hand and continuing your trek to your table.

Looking back as you walked ahead, you shot the blonde a wink and a sly smile, quickly grabbing Leah’s coat before speaking.

“Great! Then all that’s left is for you to propose!”

And as you left a wonderfully perplexed Leah at the table, you slowly began walking backwards to the parked car, a proud smile on your face as you faced the Englishwoman, a lovesick grin of disbelief shining from her.

You absolutely couldn’t wait to marry her. 

[surreal-duck]

tin soldier and a disastrous doll

[dapper-lil-arts]

Girl...

[sealofarchives]

Could you do a headcanon of the Rottmnt Leo of how he would react when he realizes he is in love with the reader? (neutral gender)

Headcanon/Oneshot: The slow realization of Leo falling in love with the reader. (Requested prompt)

A/N: Accidentally went with a slight oneshot but, hopefully this has what the request is looking for.

Insomnia won another night as Leo gave up trying to stick to a normal sleep schedule. Now scrolling on his phone bored from the lack of funny videos on youtube. And decided to try and organize the photos he saved on his device. Until he found a few photos of you two together.

Going backward from the most recent picture and then eventually. Seeing the first photo of you with him.

You weren't really one for photos so... Your face had a bit of trying to smile like what you usually do at awkward family gatherings. But, still had fun around this self confident red slider turtle.

A digital memento of the white lie of

"I was supposed to check out this place ahead of time but..."

"Naaaah, where's the fun in that!"

"Might as well hang out with (Y/N) for a bit so it doesn't seem like a boring escort mission."

His focus now taking mental notes at the later pictures where.

You felt comfortable enough to speak up about your personal space and sometimes not in the mood for a hug. Which he, Raph, and Mikey are guilty of giving surprise affection and very much took the issue in a serious manner.

Resulting in you sometimes out of your comfort zone and taking the lead when something has your full attention. The pictures almost being subtle examples where you can finally be yourself.

Memories of a safe and mutual trust built between you and the turtles' small friend group.

Even joining in on some goofy poses that he can't help but, tease you about it on some random night out.

His heartbeat almost stopped at a past video where he surprised you with a plushie of your favorite character for your birthday.

.

..

...

He saw himself blushing being pulled into your bear hug that almost choked him out of breath. While Donnie recorded the said video as the softshell turtle snickered at his brother's obvious sign of a crush. Leo gave a light glare at his brother until seeing the sweetest smile on your face. The video ending just as the blush deepen close to spreading acrossing his light blue mask.

He remembered how Donnie immediately went with a dating survey. The what type of person you date icebreaker. And a bit of payback of Leo stealing the second slice of your birthday cake.

"Totally not taking notes for your potential future spouse."

Leo facepalmed how much he had to hide any bit of jealousy to avoid ruining your special day. But, it stung hearing you laugh at Donnie's idea and going along with it. Thinking of it as a fun what if game.

Since you almost give the same attention to him. His snarky attitude is rarely at you with how often you're never bored by his routine techno babble. Along with how much patience you have. Dealing with two turtles who deny having some ego problems.

Leo lazily put his phone away on top of his bed.

With a slow sigh to relax his nerves, he replaces his sleep mask with a fresh light blue mask and stood up to wear a dull blue hoodie.

Holding one of this signature swords as he opens up a light blue portal.

("Sorry Donnie but, I'm not into the idea of sharing (Y/N) with you.")

("I feel more at ease with them by my side...")

("Even if I don't have the words for a proper heartfelt confession...")

("I know they can help with me with that.")

Leo held onto to his phone staring at the new phone wallpaper.

Just the two of you. Almost posed together like a couple while attempting to stay focus for a boring grocery shopping list.

He shook off the embarrassing feeling and will pick a different one later but, for now.

The instant text message reply of you still being awake at these late hours gave him another push to ask you out on an actual date. As he jumped through the portal to your room with no hesitation.

[moca-pocalypse]

The new costumes are super cool! I can't wait to-

Wait a minute... look at shadow milk's costume for a second.

Doesn't something feel... off, about it?

Like *something* isn't quite right...

Wait. Look.

The soul jam.... is still inverted?

ARE WE GETTING SHADOW MILK REDEMPTION HERE????

[saphstories]

Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic

A ShadowxAurora One Shot

Shadow never meant to keep it. With the limited space in his apartment, a piano wasn't exactly practical. But he'd seen it sitting on the street while on a run, a pathetic little spinet that apparently wasn't worth the effort for repair according to the owner, so it sat in wait for the dump truck.

Omega thought he was nuts when Shadow had used Chaos Control to transport the piano into the apartment, and perhaps he was. The instrument had definitely seen better days, and it would take more than a simple tune up to get it in pristine condition again.

That didn't stop Shadow from shoving the spinet against the wall between his mattress and the front door and then going out to purchase the necessary items for piano repairs.

The spinet became Shadow's passion project over the next several weeks. Any spare moment between his mercenary work with Omega and dates with Aurora, Shadow could be found with the spinet piano, painstakingly doting over the instrument to set it to rights again.

"You never told me you can fix instruments." Aurora had noted once, sitting on the little bench with her legs swinging while half of Shadow's body was inside the back of the spinet.

"Never came up." Shadow had grunted.

"Where'd you learn?" She'd pressed.

Shadow had shrugged. "I did a lot of things while off world, Light. Sometimes I was asked to fix things, and music is universal." Aurora had accepted that answer, and Shadow minutely relaxed.

No way he was EVER going to tell her that some aristocrat across the galaxy had taken fancy to him and tried to get his attention by breaking her piano, just so he'd come and fix it. It was the fastest he'd ever fled a planet. Omega still hadn't let him live it down.

The plan for the spinet once he'd finished repairs was simple enough: take it to the resale shop and get a decent sum of cash for it. He'd contacted the shop, gotten a good offer, and was set to deliver and receive his rings, but when he arrived and saw the buyer...a mother and son duo, the latter whom was whining about how much he HATED piano lessons and was currently and carelessly swinging a baseball bat around in his fit....Shadow took his piano and left.

No way was Shadow going to let all his hard work repairing his baby go to waste on some ungrateful brat that lacked basic appreciation. So, the little spinet piano became a permanent fixture in his apartment.

Shadow had never considered himself a musician of any sort. He was a warrior, a mercenary, the Ultimate Lifeform, a guardian. Music...required a certain softness that Shadow, with all his broken pieces and jagged edges, simply did not possess. But, somehow, that didn't matter. Sitting at his little spinet, gingerly filling his apartment with the soft tones of the classics centered him with a kind of peace he rarely ever achieved...with one exception. When he played, Shadow could pretend that was all there was. Just him and his spinet, creating something beautiful together. It was almost magical, if he believed in such a thing.

Shadow huffed a quiet chuckle, gently resting his hand atop the keys but not pressing down, his thoughts drifting towards the other almost-magical thing in his life. Honestly, if it magic was a thing, Shadow could believe it, because of her. The way she pranced through life, with such light and arms wide open, eager and excited for whatever came her way...could anything else but magical describe his precious Light?

Almost without his command, his fingers gently drifted across the spinet's keys, a delicate melody that swirled and danced through the air. Shadow sighed.

"Though I tried before to tell her

Of the feelings I have for her

In my heart.

Every time that I come near her

I just lose my nerve as I've done

From the start."

How many times has Shadow looked into those emerald eyes, seen that smile, and choked? It was three simple words, why was it so difficult? He's made peace with the past, hasn't he?

"Every little thing she does is magic

Everything she does just turns me on.

Even though my life before was tragic

Now I know my love for her goes on."

A sniffle behind him had Shadow whirling around, Chaos Spear halfway formed in his hand and a snarl on his muzzle, when those same piercing emerald eyes damp with tears stopped him dead. Shadow gulped, his ears flattening against his head. Damn. How long had she- Shadow made get up, averting his eyes as embarrassment colored his cheeks rosy red.

And then she's right there, pushing him back down on the bench with pleas of "Please don't stop, don't mind me-," and she's still looking at him with those eyes, pleading and wet, her body pressed tight against his side, lips protruding in the most pitiful pout...

Chaos, he was screwed, wasn't he?

Shadow sighed and tapped her nose with his finger. "You will say nothing to anyone about this." He commanded, and tried to ignore how distracting that beaming smile was in order to return to the piano. He gulped, frozen with his fingers in position. He knew his voice was not what anyone would call gifted, hers was so much better, and he chanced a glance down to his shoulder where she'd laid her head. She smiled at him again, eager and encouraging, and Shadow gulped and resumed playing.

"Do I have to tell the story

Of a thousand rainy days

SInce we first met?

It's a big enough umbrella

But it's always me

That ends up getting wet.

Every little thing she does is magic

Everything she does just turns me on.

Even though my life before was tragic

Now I know my love for her goes on."

Shadow rested his cheek against the top of her head, mindful of the short grouping of quills that acted as bangs, closing his eyes momentarily and just breathing.

"I resolve to call her up

A thousand times a day

And ask her if she'll marry me

In some old fashioned way.

But my silent fears have gripped me

Long before I reach the phone.

Long before my tongue has tripped me

Must I always be alone?"

Her arms squeezed him gently, reassuringly, around his middle, and he pressed a kiss to her head in response, smiling at the growing damp spot on his shoulder.

"Every little thing she does is magic,

Everything she does just turns me on.

Even though my life before was tragic

Now I know my love for her goes on,"

Shadow dropped one hand from the piano and cupped Aurora's cheek, tilting her chin up to look into her eyes, shining with light and joy, and he knew his words wouldn't fail him this time. He smiled at her and leaned his forehead on hers.

"Every little thing you do is magic

Everything you do just turns me on.

Even though my life before was tragic

Know that my love for you goes on."

Shadow ended the song with a soft kiss to her lips, sealing his declaration of devotion with all the love and passion and dedication he had in his heart in the best way he knew how. Words always failed him, but somehow, in this moment, it didn't matter. Aurora wept through his kiss, and he smiled as they parted, a quirk of his mouth so gentle and loving that only she would ever get to see it.

Aurora pounced on him a single moment later, using her own gift of speed to press kiss after kiss on his lips, face, head, everywhere she could reach, glowing so brightly and joyfully exclaiming "I love you"s between kisses. Shadow briefly wondered how she wasn't suffocating before dismissing the thought and basking in their shared love, trading her kisses and words with ones of his own. It didn't matter anyway.

Every little thing she did was magic, after all.

[bookwyrm-art-stuff]

A treatise on liufang

(Liu Qingge x Mu Qingfang)

Because omfg did this get out of hand

This whole thing was written in messages to a mutual (shout out to @mamaclownhunter for listening to my ramblings) and is just my entire brain spilled out on the table. Please tell me if I manage to indoctrinate you, they have Consumed my Life and yours may be next!

Now, treatise:

First point: The existence of the ship itself. I know, logically, that the reason this ship exists at all is that people felt bad leaving LQG alone with their bingqiu (and sometimes qijiu) happy ending, seeing as he (to my mind, clearly) likes SQQ. This is rather inevitable, and not uncommon whatsoever; nor are these ships. The thing that makes this one stick out to me is, like… it makes fucking SENSE. The biggest barriers to it are a) LQG likes SQQ (easily explained away, he's emotionally fragile and his rival who he respected as such (maybe more) suddenly added affection to the equation. Also he's gorgeous. Understandable, but darling there was no chance. Etc.) and b) they have little to no canon interaction, and none that I can recall providing any insight into their relationship. (Again, easily explainable; LQG's a side character and MQF's a background character and gods know they're not gonna be interacting much, let alone enough to provide insight into their relationship.) This lack of walls or flaws in the ship is relatively and disarmingly rare when it comes to ships born of what can be called the "leftovers" once main ships are paired off.

Second point: Why it works. First of all, the setup for shipping between peak lords is just… automatically ideal. They're coworkers, and their position mandates that they have grown up together. They also live very conveniently near each other and forced proximity via that and meetings is SO a thing. And, by mandate of their positions, they're all incredibly powerful, and you KNOW we are ALL suckers for power couples in this fandom. Now, when you move down to the ship specific givens it just gets better. Because Mu Qingfang is the Qian Cao peak lord- the head of the medicine peak. And Liu Qingge is the lord of Bai Zhan- the WAR peak. So, by requirement of their roles: 1) MQF can boss anyone around and deal with a lot of bitching (*cough*), 2) Liu Qingge fights a LOT and cannot come unscathed from all of it, 3) LQG's disciples are even worse off on the injury front and probably go to QC for care/supplies very often. No ignoring each other. Also, by virtue of his deeply affection-starved character, if LQG is shown care that takes even the tiniest step into personal/emotional care and affection he is GONE. Basically if MQF likes him (not hard to orchestrate) he is SCREWED.

Third point: Why I like it (analyzing myself and losing my semblance of clinical manner one scenario at a time.) To preface: my taste in ships trends very mainstream- basically nothing I ship can be considered a rarepair. So of course, I had to thoroughly dissect this one. One of the main draws, as I see it, is the characters themselves. I love Liu Qingge. I am deeply invested in his character and struggles and I both want to give him a hug and study him under a microscope. He is darling and severely fucked up, so I'm already in the same boat as the likely creators and patrons of the ship; wanting him to have someone now that his crush has run off with his own disciple who is also a demon lord. I think Liu Qingge should be happy, and I'll be honest, I don't think he'd be happy alone. Now, as for the other half of the ship, and arguably the more interesting one in this context: I am a sucker for medic/healer characters. I think they are a severely underexplored as a trope at large, and the effects that kind of responsibility and work can have on a character are just- chef's kiss. They are also incredibly cool people, a product of the skills they have to learn to y'know... do medicine, as well as those to treat wayward patients. This facet appeals to me in particular because, while I do think LQG could be darling and gentlemanly paired with someone beautiful and elegant like either SQQ, I honestly would LOVE someone who could bring out the feral side of him and has one of their own. (Shen Jiu does this but that is as adversaries.) Mu Qingfang is a doctor. He deals with all MANNER of bitchy, bratty assholes and he would not take ANY shit from LQG. I also think that since he's the peak lord he has a wide range of medical knowledge, including mental health, so basically: he could fix him. Tying this back to my love of power couples: SJ and LQG bring out each other's insanity in opposition. LMY and LQG bring out each other's insanity in play and sibling competition. Now, I raise you: MQF and LQG bringing out each other's insanity in mutually tempered tandem.

(More of) my ideas, headcanons, and scenarios. (Elaboration.) I still have many more, less structured thoughts. Like how therapeutic sparring must be for them; LQG having someone to spar with who can match him and won't hold back but who he also deeply loves and trusts (pause for delight) is the obvious half, but I bet Mu Qingfang would LOVE to just punch someone after a long shift of NOT punching awful patients. Like oh GODS is it nice to punch his husband in the jaw and then watch him heal the bruise HIMSELF with his FULLY FORMED GOLDEN CORE (*sobs in Bai Zhan disciples.*) And also: LQG patching him up. This one works with anyone you deign to ship MQF with, but I think LQG especially would revel in it. MQF getting off a long-ass shift, coming straight to BZ, sparring full-force for half an hour, and then afterwards him leaning on LQG and letting him slide off his robes to clean and properly wrap an injury sustained extricating a fucking dumbass (NOT from BZ for once) from a demon's clutches (they underestimated the situation but everyone got out alright.) How nice it feels when LQG tenderly rewraps the slice on his arm, the release of pressure after having his own hasty, makeshift, and uncomfortably (though not damagingly) tight bandage on for a few hours because he was busy making sure that IDIOT didn't die. The surge of affection LQG feels when he hears how it was sustained protecting the injured disciple, and the gentle kiss he drops on MQF's bare shoulder before getting up to prepare a bath. The happiness LQG feels hearing MQF's exhausted monotone and seeing him slouching against the wall (or, preferably, LQG's shoulder;) not because he wants his husband to be tired, but because he feels safe enough to show it. The way, after a while, that Qian Cao disciples will point LQG to MQF as soon as they see him on their peak, and and vice versa. After battles, instead of off running unnecessary patrols like they're accustomed to, finding LQG in the infirmary, doing simple tasks and intimidating his own disciples into lying still.

[zephyrsobsessions]

The dorm internet went down so instead of being normal I wrote fanfiction physically. No clue how much, but I've got about 2 pages front and back full of words. My hand HURTS.

[batsplat]

pecco rant please please

*spins wheel on possible topics* absurdly underrated but in a dumb way. you'd think you can stumble your way into two premier class titles. I don't care he's on the best bike - let's be honest, how often this century have the title winners not been on the best bike? 2004 and to a lesser extent 2005 you can say clearly weaker bike, 2007 late 2010s 2021 there's a clear enough disparity with anyone else riding the bike that you can say clearly the rider is making the difference/it's an unrideable wreck one guy is making respectable, then there's a few seasons where it's at least very close whose machinery is best or they're fighting with people on equal equipment, which pecco has done! but generally speaking, good/promising riders end up on good bikes and then they win. that's how the game works!

the thing about 2022 is that it had such a massive mid-season swing that overhauling a ninety something point margin cannot come down to any single factor. is it fair to say fabio lost that title? on balance, it's a bit harsh - yes, there were a few too many errors post-sachsenring, yes, some were driven by desperation, but also you can't really expect anyone to ride a flawless season. but pecco did win that title as much as yamaha lost it. I don't care if you're riding a literal rocketship with two wheels, you can't win four races in a row if you're not extremely good at what you do! if we're saying that title was worth less because the yamaha turned to shit in the second half of the season, then let's keep going. let's put an asterisk next to 2013 because jorge and dani both got injured (let's not even get into the 'if marc hadn't been injured' asterisks because that's where you get into truly silly territory). is 2006 not a legit title because of all the bad luck valentino faced that year? let's say all titles between 2007 to 2015 were worth less because at any one time only 4-6 bikes had a realistic chance of winning races. throw out any title before 2009 because they were constantly fucking about with the tyres and there wasn't a level playing field. if you're motivated enough, you can play this game with basically anything, but it's dumb and pointless because that's not how sports works! you can only win against whoever you're facing. it has always been thus and it will always be thus

it's narratively fun and juicy that pecco has these insecurities himself - but within the context of everyone else doing discourse over it, the whole thing is massively overblown! linked to some of the worst sports discourse about how much people love to disparage late bloomers, because they need every single successful athlete to fit the same mould of the ultra-talented wunderkind, apparently. it's more interesting when it's not always the most 'talented' (whatever tf that means), naturally gifted, *fast the second he touches a bike* bloke who wins. sometimes they have to work hard for it, sometimes they have to improve themselves year on year and be smart about how they do it, sometimes they have to be in the right place and right time, sometimes they have to be very lucky. sports is all about competition, and competition is all about contrast. it's a contrast that can be generated in a whole lot of ways, and in fairness to motogp they have come up with a bunch of interesting narratively tense contests that don't rely on a massive fundamental 'talent' differential - but at the end of the day, that's one of the best ones you can have! the more ways you can have to win in any given sport, the better, both in the literal sense of how you go about the actual process of winning and how you even become a winner. none of this means that pecco isn't very very good, it means he got there in a different way than every other multiple champ this century has. it fundamentally flattens the sport if you want every top-level competitor to be an alien-level talent... one of the best things about this current era is that it has given us something new and exciting in that regard, where you well and truly believe some very different blokes might have what it takes to eventually be champion

anyway, pecco is absurdly adept at digging himself into holes and absurdly adept at digging himself out of them. he's one of the worst frontrunners imaginable in every sense, biologically incapable of dominating without at least a perpetual hint of jeopardy, both in the context of a race and a season. but when his back is against the wall, somehow he keeps finding performances you never imagined he was capable of. his mixed up and slightly odd skillset, his strengths and weaknesses, how he's better and worse than he has any right to be... all of it lends itself to perpetual momentum shifts and thrilling seasons - because you never quite know what you're going to get. love him or hate him, he's a gift to the overall competitive landscape! god knows the racing hasn't been much to write home about these last few years (though, yes, we did have a good little run this season), but somehow he's managed to get himself involved in two out of the six title deciders this century back-to-back. is that not the dream for the viewer, to have a bloke at the top of the sport with a little self-combust chip in his head every time he builds too much of an advantage? build a hundred of those guys! throw a marc marquez at him and see what he does! I can't wait to see what he'll come up with next

[bookshelf-in-progress]

A Jules and Vern Christmas

A time travel story for the Christmas Challenge at @inklings-challenge. This is a follow-up to "Jules and Vern"--a very short piece that explains how the time travel works, so you may want to read that one first.

*

Vernon looked up from his writing in a daze. The papers spread across his kitchen table, the books piled on shelves and chairs across his sparsely-furnished apartment, seemed suddenly unfamiliar. Outside, it was nearly dark, and a light snow shower was falling.

He'd lost track of time--gotten too deep into his writing. This draft of his article was due by the first of the year, and there was so much worth writing about now that he had practical experience--not just theoretical knowledge--of time travel.

He had his new patroness to thank for that. His one and only time travel cruise--paid for with his life savings--had brought him in contact with one of the wealthiest heiresses on the planet, who'd adopted him like a stray cat. She'd guided him through the cruise and even paid to extend his trip. A man in his position couldn't refuse gifts like that--but neither could he repay them.

He looked at the silver-wrapped package sitting on the edge of the table. It seemed silly, giving presents to a woman who could buy him a thousand times over without blinking an eye. He could mail the package next month. Send a nice little note keeping things purely professional.

But it was Christmas. After roaming through history with Juliette, he'd come to consider her a sort of friend. This deserved a personal touch.

He put away his manuscript, seized the package, and left on his errand before he could talk himself out of it.

*

The high-rise hotel, sleek and silver, towered over the squat brown-brick historic buildings of the rest of the street. Bedecked in golden lights, the building looked like a Christmas candle, like a queen among peasants.

Vernon felt like a peasant as he stood in the golden light coming through the glass of the revolving door. A doorman in crisp livery—blue with gold trimmings, a finer suit than anything Vernon had ever worn—took one look at the threadbare elbows of Vernon’s jacket and the holes in his woolen gloves and growled, “Move it along.”

The doorman’s square head reminded Vernon of some of the meaner-looking idols he’d seen on ancient temples. This face would have been a guardian of the underworld, ready to smite the unworthy with the wrath of the gods.

No, he scolded himself. It was the face of a doorman. Of a hotel. Vernon hadn’t walked through ancient battlefields to turn tail because a hotel employee scowled at him.

Vernon held up his package—a silver rectangle. “I’ve a delivery for Miss Juliette—“

The doorman's voice was like something that would have come from one of those stone idols. “She doesn’t take unmarked deliveries.”

Vernon felt like he’d run face-first into a wall. He stepped back and tried to gather his wits. Snowflakes fell down his collar. "If you'll just--"

From behind, a languid female voice drawled, "Vern? Is that you?"

Juliette stood behind him, wrapped in black fur. Her black hat—bedecked with white feathers and an enormous red flower—was wide enough to cover both of them, and her heels were so high that Vernon wondered how she’d managed more than two steps on the icy streets.

Juliette took Vernon's arm and told the doorman, "Relax, Pete, he's with me."

The doorman gave a skeptical stare.

Juliette's laugh sparkled. “Oh, very well.” She tugged Vernon by the arm. “We’ll roam the streets.”

Juliette took Vernon down the sidewalk, past the stores of this wealthy shopping district. These shops were nothing compared to the astonishing height of the modern hotel, but their wares were so rich Vernon half-feared he'd be charged a fee just for looking.

Juliette strode through the snowy streets with perfect confidence, never looking at a shop, never stumbling in her heels. “What brings you here, my darling little scholar?”

Compared to the wares being sold just outside her door, Vernon's offering seemed pathetic, but there was no help for it now.

He held out the package. "I brought a gift.”

Juliette stopped and tipped back her hat so she could look him in the face. “Gift?”

Could he call this a gift when her world meant so much more by the name? Jewels, cars, vacations—those were gifts. This was—

“A...small token,” he amended. “In honor of the holiday."

"Holiday?" Juliette seemed truly perplexed. At last, she laughed, low and languid. "Oh, Christmas. How quaint!"

Her laugh made Vernon bristle. Not for the first time, he wondered if she'd ever had a heart.

"I ought to have known you celebrated," she said. “It's so earnest and wholesome--like you."

“You don’t celebrate?”

“I haven’t paid attention in years.”

“Why?”

“When you’ve experienced every single Christmas in history, it gets rather dull.”

“Every—”

“Christmas cruises. Some time travelers try to hit every Christmas Day in history. They get so insufferable about it.”

Not for the first time, Vernon’s mind swam at the unimaginable wealth this implied.

Juliette said, “I decided against the full set. It’s just not worth it. The first one’s off-limits, of course, and then there's nothing really interesting until the Arians show up. But even in the most exciting years, it's all variations of the same thing, isn't it? Food and fires and presents and songs and various states of inebriation. There's only so much of that kind of thing one can take."

Vernon's chest burned--a bit of shame, a lot more anger. He tucked the silver-wrapped package beneath his arm. "I'm sorry I wasted your time," he said, turning away.

Juliette grabbed his arm. "Wait!” The languid tone had been replaced by genuine alarm. “Don't listen to my nonsense. It was kind of you to think of me."

Her eyes, amber in the streetlight, held some deep spark that Vernon had never seen before. A hint of genuine feeling. She was truly afraid of being alone. Vernon felt a pang of pity.

He handed her the gift.

She tore off the wrapping and uncovered a hardback book. The crimson cover glowed like an ember against the black of her furs.

"The first copy of my latest work," Vernon said. It didn’t sound so pathetic when he put it that way. "A treatise upon the interactions of parallel time streams, supplemented by observations from our travels."

She turned the book in her gloved hands, looking at it from all angles. “It looks disgustingly academic.”

"Exceedingly so."

She grinned. “I’m delighted, and I’ll never read it.

Vernon relaxed into a smile. "I didn't think you would. But I thought you deserved a copy all the same."

She put the book into a massive handbag. "I feel I ought to have a gift for you."

Vernon laughed. "A time cruise is a gift I could never repay.”

"Would you like another one?" Juliette asked.

Vernon stepped back, his hands held before him. "I couldn't accept such--"

"Just a short one. A cheap Christmas trip. Horribly touristy. Everyone and their mother heads to the Victorian era for a proper Dickens Christmas. The place is crawling with time travelers."

Vernon thought about the book in Juliette's bag, and his mind lit up with a new theory. "That would explain the ghost stories--"

She pointed at him, her eyes bright. "See? That's the mind that could make even that kind of Christmas interesting again."

It was flattering, and tempting, and yet--

"I think you're missing the point," Vernon said.

“Am I?” Juliette drawled, one eyebrow raised.

“Yes,” Vernon said firmly. “You don't need to run off and watch a Christmas that's already happened. You need to experience this one."

She waved a dismissive hand. "I've seen a thousand like it."

Vernon wondered how literal that was. How many Christmases had she traveled to--?

He pulled his mind back to the point. "I'm not sure you've seen any Christmas. You've seen parties, feasting, carols, but you haven't seen Christmas. The reason for the celebration. I'm not sure you can see it."

“I know," she said. "That’s why I need you.”

Snow fell onto her expensive furs, white against the black. A cold breeze ruffled the flower on her hat. She was a fashion plate, the model of luxury--and she looked so alone. All the money in the world, able to buy anything she wanted, go to any place or time she desired on a moment's notice--and she had no one to spend Christmas with.

He took her hand in his, tattered wool against sleek leather. "Then I'll come with you. But not to Victorian Christmas. To this one."

She raised an eyebrow “The time travel expert is turning down a chance to time travel?”

“Gladly."

"You'll never get anywhere in your career if you keep turning down opportunities like this."

"I'll take the risk."

She looked at their joined hands, then shifted her grip to turn it into a handshake. “You have a deal.”

Snow fell faster, thick white flakes. The shops along the street began turning off the lights in their windows. In the distance, church bells sounded.

Vernon inclined his head toward it. “We can start there.”

As the snow fell and the bells rang, Vernon tightened his grip on Juliette’s hand and pulled her down the street. In the lamplight, her eyes held a spark of something that looked a little bit like joy.