#and i will keep writing fic about him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

unclewaynemunson · 7 months

Text

Pt2 to this post

'Is something wrong?' Nancy asks, not long after the two of them have taken their familiar spots on the hood of Steve's car. They're basking in what might be the last warm sunlight of the year, looking out over the quarry, at a safe distance from the edge.

It's become a tradition the two of them share, ever since they reconnected back in March. It calms them both, to just sit here and take in the view, no one around but each other. Nancy is one of the few people Steve can share a comfortable silence with: sometimes they sit here quietly for what feels like hours, side by side, listening to music or to nothing but the birds singing around them. But they also have their best conversations here: it's the place where Nancy entrusted him she wanted to break up with Jonathan; it's the place where they talked about their shared past and decided they would always love each other as friends; it's the place where they finally talked about Barbara in a way they couldn't when they were younger. It's where Nancy talked about the ghosts still haunting her and Steve talked about how lonely he sometimes felt.

Steve huffs. 'How did you guess?'

'When you frown, you always do it with your whole face,' Nancy notes. 'So it's hard to miss, really.'

Steve glances at her side profile. There's a serenity to her features that's still relatively new. It means she's healing, slowly learning how to be happy again. It means she stopped waiting for the end of the world and started believing in a real future again. It makes Steve proud of how far they both have come.

'I had a fight with Eddie,' he confesses. 'And with Dustin, I guess.'

'What happened?'

He sighs. 'It's complicated.'

'Wanna tell me about it?'

The look in her eyes is kind and inviting. Steve hesitates. He wants to, but he doesn't know if he can. It's a risk. It's scary.

But he can't imagine Nancy Wheeler ever being careless with his secrets. He can't imagine her judging him, can't imagine her being as small-minded as most people in this town.

He was planning on telling her anyway, because things had been going so well with Eddie lately and – no, he shouldn't think about that right now. But maybe it would actually be nice to talk about it with Nancy.

'So, um...' His throat feels tight and his hands are sweaty. 'I recently discovered some things about myself. I-' The words get stuck somewhere on the way to his mouth, and he clears his throat.

Nancy doesn't push, but only gives him an encouraging nod, waiting for him to find his voice again.

'I found out I like boys,' he finally manages to confess. 'And I need you to know that – that that doesn't mean that what I felt for you wasn't real. It was. I loved you, and now I fell in love with a boy. And-'

'Steve.' Nancy's hand suddenly covers his, causing him to finally jerk his head away from the view over the quarry, to focus on her face again instead.

Her eyes are wide, and she squeezes his hand.

'You don't have to explain yourself to me,' she tells him. 'We're good. But thank you for telling me. For trusting me with this.'

Steve heaves out a relieved sigh, and Nancy smiles; it's that genuine kind of smile which reveals all kinds of dimples and soft lines across her face.

'We might be more similar than you thought,' she tells him, a faint blush spreading over her cheeks.

'Really?' Her words make his breath catch in his throat. He squints at her, trying to see her in this new light. 'Are you saying what I think you're saying?'

She shrugs. 'I don't know. I'm not sure yet,' she admits. 'Still figuring things out.'

'Take your time, there's no rush,' he tells her. 'But...' He bumps his shoulder against hers. 'When you're done figuring it out, talk to me, okay?'

She nods. 'Okay.'

For a while, it's quiet between the two of them. Some kind of raptor circles high above them in the sky. They both follow it with their eyes until it disappears among the tree tops west of the quarry.

'Is it Eddie?'

Steve blinks dumbly a couple of times.

'Wha- what?'

'The guy you were talking about. The one you fell in love with. It's Eddie, isn't it?'

'Jesus, Wheeler, what kind of sorceress are you?' Steve exclaims.

Nancy laughs again. 'You're not being as subtle as you think,' she tells him. 'The two of you have been hooking up for a while now, haven't you?'

Steve huffs dramatically. 'This is unfair. You know everything; I can't even tell you my own secrets anymore!'

'So what happened?' Nancy asks. 'You said you had a fight with him?'

'It's fucking stupid,' he sighs. 'Dustin was getting way too excited about the fact that I was gonna be hanging out with you, so I told him I was seeing someone. Next thing I knew, he was telling Eddie all about how I was seeing a girl.' He waves his hands around to make annoyed air quotations. 'I wanted to tell Eddie it was a misunderstanding, but Dustin was there, so I couldn't out us just like that, and he looked so betrayed and heartbroken... He didn't wanna listen to me.'

Steve sighs; he still can't manage to forget that look in Eddie's eyes when Dustin delivered the big news. 'I wish I would've talked about what I felt for him earlier. I should've been honest when I had the chance, y'know. But I was afraid he wouldn't wanna label what we had, that he wouldn't feel the same way – and now we're in this whole mess. God, he must hate me right now, Nance.'

To his surprise, Nancy gives him an unexpected slap against his arm.

'Ouch, what the hell was that for?!'

'What are you even doing here with me, Steve? You should've gone after him, tell him how you feel!'

'I tried, obviously, but he didn't wanna listen to me!'

'So make him listen! You're in love with him, he obviously feels the same way about you, and you let him leave to wallow in a broken heart he doesn't even need to have!' She rolls her eyes and slides off the car, adding something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like an exasperated 'Boys!' before she pulls Steve off the car as well. 'C'mon, time to get your ass over to the trailer park. Right. Now,' she says through gritted teeth. And, well, Steve knows better than to argue with a determined - and truthfully quite terrifying - Nancy Wheeler.

Read the last part here Taglist: @withacapitalp @ultimatedreamer104 @irregular-child @jcmadgirl @estrellami-1 @myguiltyartpleasure @hallucinatedjosten @jaybren @thew1ldblueyonder @melodymeddler @alycatavatar @zoeweee @lolawonsstuff @fairy-princette @saramelaniemoon @phirex22 @krazyperson @xxsky-shockxx (I only put people on this list who explicitly asked to be tagged. That's really no problem, I love to do that so dw about asking, but I got a lot of relatively vague reactions to the previous post that i'm not gonna dissect and interpret, bc I don't wanna clog anyone's notes unwanted. So just to be clear: i consider it a huge compliment if anyone asks for a tag but please do it clearly if you do!)

#look i can and i will exploit the miscommunication trope until yall are sick and tired of it #bc steddie is actually the perfect couple for keeping that trope believable #they're idiots with terrible communication skills it's canon #they WOULD #“can't you just talk to him?” “wait what i can????” IT'S SO THEM OKAY #nancy is the only sane person here i don't make the rules #don't mind me rambling about stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #nancy wheeler #platonic stancy #(i love platonic stancy they mean the world to me)#(i truly didn't mean to trick anyone into reading about them this just kinda. happened. idk)#this is making me wanna write more about their friendship actually they deserve their own fic #stranger things #fruity ficlet

1K notes · View notes

seiwas · 16 days

Text

everytime i think about ex!bakugo, i get so emotional thinking about how he carries on with his day-to-day like the breakup didn’t happen.

he doesn’t even give himself time to mourn the relationship, to process the loss of you. he throws himself into work, practically drowning in it because he can’t bear staying idle.

you’re everywhere, still—

in the picture frames scattered around his home, in the decorative pieces that each hold their own memory. some of the clothes you returned to him smell like you.

when kirishima asks him how he is, he never answers, always redirecting the subject back to work. deku notices longer bouts of silence during joint patrols, and when he pries, bakugo’s only reply is, “s’not a concern.”

it’s unusual, because bakugo is loud and rough, he barks and barks and barks, but with this, he stays quiet.

#i think about ex bakugo so much if i spent the same amount of time thinkin abt him as writing him i would have finished the fic by now #JOSNXKSJXKSKXJDK #you’re still friends bc same circles and work #but because he throws himself so much into work you don’t really see eachother much a few months after the breakup #you worry for him still because you know his tendencies #you know he’ll push this to the side and keep it to himself until it all spills over one day #you find out he’s been staying completely quiet about it when mitsuki texts you and asks when you and katsuki will come for the holidays :(#he doesnt delete your photos HE DOESNT DELETE THEM. i dont think he has the heart to #bakugo x reader #shotorus.bubble #sigh

518 notes · View notes

gardenofnoah · 5 months

Text

cw: implied sexual trauma, panic attack, intimacy struggles

You don’t notice it happening until it’s buzzing under your skin. Loud and unavoidable, the only thing you can pay attention to is the irregular flutter of your heart and the way it seems that all the air has been vacuumed from the room—

“Hey.”

You blink, and Katsuki is no longer above you. He’s not touching you at all—you turn your head to find him next to you, propped up on an elbow and only worried.

“Too much?”

The panic flares at the question, because what if this is the last time? What if he’s tired of this?

Your exhale is shaky—your laugh is forced and sounds out of place. “No, it was fine, I just—“

“Oi—“ he says, gently, “tell me the truth.”

The truth burns your eyes and keeps them on the ceiling, away from his. You nod, helpless and resigned to whatever comes next.

“What’s goin’ on in your head?”

You feel the tears spill over before you can catch them. You swipe them away with the back of your wrist. It’s still numb. “I’m just sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin it.”

He grunts a little in acknowledgment—a displeased, ugly sound—and then there’s movement that finally draws your eyes to him. You watch him cover himself with your duvet—all the way up to his chin.

“S’it okay if I hold you?”

He reaches for you and you let him pull you in. His hands stay above your shoulders and pointedly avoid your neck—cradling your head, letting you hide in the curve of his throat. His pulse is steady and constant against your forehead—or you imagine it would be, if it wasn’t muted by the fabric.

“Nothin’ is ruined,” he murmurs against your hairline, “s’my job to keep you safe.”

Your chest shudders against the cushion of the blanket and you feel a little guilty about crying all over it but Katsuki keeps you there, tethered to him. The ringing in your ears subsides, just a little. Just enough to hear the panic in your own voice.

“I promise I want it. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I’m sorry—“

“Hey, hey,” he shushes you, careful not to tighten his arms around your shoulders. “Nothin’ to be sorry for. S’too much today—that’s all.”

It’s quiet, then, save for your sniffling. He keeps his mouth pressed to your hair, and his arms wrapped around you. There is a noticeable absence of his fingertips tracing along your skin—you don’t feel them there at all, and it’s on purpose. He’s considerate and it makes you anxious.

“Can hear you thinkin’.”

“I just—“ you inhale, trying to be brave, “I don’t want you to leave. I know I can’t—give you this—“

“Oi,” he gruffs, a little sharply, “I don’t give a shit about that. M’not a barbarian.”

You feel the expansion of his lungs as he draws in a slow exhale, and lets it out against the crown of your head. “Don’t think so little of me,” he murmurs, tone laced with hurt.

“You’re right,” you whisper, because he is, “I love you.”

“Love you.” He kisses it into your skin, soft and barely there. “Always will.”

#i have beat this horse to hell but I really do love writing about struggles with intimacy #because ~i~ struggle with intimacy and I write for me ya know #but idk i think it would be hard for him!! he just wants to care for me and keep me safe and i have a tendency to self sabatoge.#if you can believe that.#he just wants to help and he knows that what happened before him is not his fault of course. but it upsets him when I project onto him #which is like. a very human thing?#i have been thinking about that post from the other day a lot about believing the people that love you #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou hurt comfort #bakugou comfort #bakugou fic #mha fic #bkg it’s the little things

509 notes · View notes

theminecraftbee · 11 months

Text

i find myself occasionally thinking of empires 1 flower husbands again. and you know what dynamic with them is really funny: scott seems to remember the whole third life past life with jimmy, but jimmy... doesn't do much with it? and like. i know you can play this for angst but actually i don't remember enough COMEDY about scott remembering jimmy as his Tragic Doomed Lover He Is Falling Tragically In Love With Once More. and then there is jimmy. he is a fish in a swamp. he doesn't understand what this elf guy wants with him. scott is writing entire elaborate fanfics in his head and jimmy is just vibing. going "oh neat! anyway time to kill some salmon." i think there's great comedy potential here,

#flower husbands #empires smp #jimmy solidarity #scott smajor #it's been a while since i thought about flower husbands but i'm writing a jimmy fic so it's coming up in my head #and i'm thinking about the potential COMEDY FACTOR of this #the important thing to keep this funny is that jimmy isn't like. UPSET scott is dramatically in love with him #he just Doesn't Really Get It But Sure He Supposes #Why Not

889 notes · View notes

yuwuta · 26 days

Text

yuuta exhibits such previously abandoned, recently adopted dog behavior. incredibly anxious all the time, even though nobody’s out to get him or leave him behind. waits for you to return home or from school or from work excitedly, just to see you when you walk through the door. follows you around senselessly, hovering in your space just for the sake of companionship. initiates affection in prodding ways—starts off next to you, then a hand on your thigh, then deems it safe to lay all the way down, then slowly pushes his head into your lap. gets up whenever you need to get up, and resumes his position as soon as you’re ready. brings you gifts as a sign that he’s thinking of you, and maybe because he likes the affection it brings out in you, maybe because he likes the gentle affirming touches of a hand in his hair or a pinch to his cheek. rests his head on your stomach or his chin on your shoulder when he’s sleepy, stays there, immobile, and will not move unless absolutely necessary. sometimes he gets surprised when he hears you calling for him, there’s a moment of disbelief as he thinks “me? really? you need me?” but it’s very quickly overshadowed by this compulsive need to show up, to please, to do anything for you, which is why he always answers when you call. he doesn’t realize that he has puppygod eyes, especially when he’s excited or confused, but he does and it’s incredible endearing. very reluctant to share your space or attention after a while, considers that to be sacred and he won’t risk being let go or lost again, so as a safety precaution, he keeps himself right by you, waits for you always.

#atp i need to shut and write the omega verse fics that consistency plague my mind #but while im here time for my obligatory megumi mention bc i mentioned dogs teehee #yes megumi attack dog hes megumi grumbly yes megumi bark bark bite bite BUT BUT BUTTTT #megumi is also used to like... hm........ taming? having? caring for? people in his life and also literal (divine) dogs #so for him yes he bites and barks #but he also... he gets confused if YOU dont follow him around like a puppy bc everyone else in his life has so why not you?#gojo's always been the annoying yapping pomeranian chewing on his arm even if he didn't ask #always in megumi's space even tho he didn't ask but he learned to deal with it #won't admit it but knows that too much attention is better than having someone who couldn't give a shit about you #yuuji is the golden in everybody's life and megumi is no exception #unmovable unshakeable and incredibly addictive even if he doesn't mean to be #and very very attached to the people he cares about so yeah yuuji is loud and annoying but he's also loyal and megumi respects that so fine #nobara is like... she decided she liked megumi and was upset about it so she bit his ankle and he tried to kick her off but she has too muc #pride to get shaken off by someone as scrawny as megumi and somewhere along the way megumi became impressed that she was still there even i #it hurt a bit and she was a little rough it's not like he was worse so fine whatever she can stay too #so if you like... if you dont hover around megumi if you dont pry if you dont prod then he has to be the dog smh #now he's gotta bite for your attention and nudge you and how annoying. he's gonna keep doing it tho. as long as he has to #or until you learn to fall in line and accept your leash too whichever comes first n e way.... anyway.............#somebody's pampered omega always gets what he wants megumi complex is showing......#this was about yuuta right? ok i'll put his tags now....#juju #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yuuta okkotsu x reader #yuta okkotsu x reader

235 notes · View notes

andromeda-nova-writing · 9 days

Text

"Are you laughing at me?" "Yeah, I am. What are you going to do about it?" - Wriothesley Request from @isekyaaa

When Clorinde said she knew someone who could teach Y/N the basics of a different hand-to-hand combat style she wasn’t expecting that Wriothesley would be the one to teach her. One would think it would be easy to take the guy seriously but all the stories from Clorinde and that his back was absolutely covered in stickers made it so hard. It would have been easier if she said she would just show up to the fortress for her lesson rather than agreeing with him to take advantage of the nice weather out at the beach. With his coat on, the stickers were at least out of sight.

“You know I never got the reason why you agreed to this.”

“Clorinde didn’t tell you?” He was focused on wrapping his hands.

“Nah. Just said she knew a guy.” Her head tilted to the side. “Is there something I should know? Heard from her that you both like betting. You lost?”

He sighed. “Yeah, but this is better than me winning and my shelves filling up with more law books.”

Y/N laughed. “So you’re the reason I end up swinging by the bookstore to pick up a law book for her every now and then.”

Wriothesley rolled his eyes with a smile. “Seems so. You ready over there.”

“Been. You were the late one.”

“Work’s a bit far from here to be fair.”

“I thought I was gonna have to tell Clorinde you were a no-show. I’d be back on the hunt for an instructor. Probably could find someone better if I spent more time looking.” She teased.

“You’re gonna give me a headache.”

“Don’t tell me I’m too much for you to handle.”

He looked away biting his lip, he pushed his bangs back before letting them fall in front of his face. “Let’s just get this started.”

It didn't take long for Y/N to begin understanding the basics. The only issue was that she kept falling back into the stance of her normal fighting style. It was definitely something she’d have to work on to fix but at the same time being able change styles mid fight could be an advantage.

After some time of just focusing making sure she was picking things up correctly. It didn’t hurt to test some things out in a small scrimmage. It would just be a few blows back and forth with no real weight behind them.

Y/N had thrown a punch Wriothesley's way. She focused on pushing him further back towards the water. It was her best bet with that they were in two different weight classes. It wasn’t hard for him to dodge. But in doing so he tripped backwards trying to avoid stepping on a crab and fell into the waves that crashed against the shore.

She couldn’t help but laugh at the sight. Yes, he had been a more than perfect teacher the entire time. But with the knowledge he was helping cause of a lost bet, the stickers that covered his back and that he was soaked beyond belief she let go of everything that kept her from laughing at the man.

He looked up at the woman who was now towering above him as the waves gently splashed at him leaving no part of his clothes dry. “Are you laughing at me?” He wasn’t mad but he for sure knew he had to look a bit stupid.

“Yeah, I am. What are you going to do about it?” She teased. It wasn’t like he could do anything about it.

He sighed. “You’re right nothing I can do. Help a guy up?”

Y/N wiped a tear that formed from her laughter before holding a hand out to him to pull him back up standing. Wriothesley took her hand pulling himself up just slightly before pulling her down into the water with him.

“Ugggh, You asshole!” She laid in the water beside Him.

“It's what you get.” He let go of her hand before splashing her lightly.

“It’s not like I was the one who pushed you in.”

“You were laughing enough where you might as well have.”

She rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe Clorinde set me up to learn from a man who doesn’t know how to even treat a lady.”

“I don’t know if our activities here would even have you being considered lady like.”

“I think it’s very lady like knowing how to defend yourself. After all you never know when a big oaf is going to pull you into the ocean.”

“You say that like you haven’t been having a good time.”

She turned her head away to hide the smile that was creeping onto her face. “Let’s just go dry off already.”

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #Can you believe even after our talk last night the amount of fics with a wriothesley kiss is still zero #It was fun to do a different reader than the one i normally write for him though #If it wasn't for the fact I'm trying to keep these short i would have written so much more #Of the three I've written so far I feel the most confident about this one #But that's probably cause I've written him the most out of late #I guess i'm off to work on that other fic now #fem! reader

111 notes · View notes

johnslittlespoon · 1 month

Note

plsssss can we talk about bucky getting his revenge and edging gale

gale edging john post | yes we cannnnn !! eta: ykw. i need to just turn this into a proper oneshot since this ended up being over 1k words. new wip created </3

john may be a man of little self control, but after that incident, he decides he can be at least a tiny bit patient so he can catch gale off guard with it when he gets his revenge. because the next few times they're fooling around, gale's expecting a retaliation, john can see it in the way he tenses up and glances at his face before he comes like he's waiting for it, but john never follows through with it. he wants gale to let his guard down, and that he does.

so a week or so later when john's kissing him and feeling him up and asks ever so sweetly if he can tie gale's wrists behind his back, gale doesn't think anything of it. john likes to take control occasionally and gale sometimes likes the feeling of not having to worry about making decisions, getting to let john call the shots, and john always puts extra time and effort into the way he touches gale when he's restrained because he likes to watch his darling blondie squirm.

john has him sit in his lap facing him, letting gale lean against his shoulder to take the pressure off his legs while john works him open on his fingers, already riled up from the pretty gasps gale's making against his neck but reigning himself in because he's gonna need to have some self control for once.

he sweet–talks gale through it, telling him how good he sounds, how well he's doing as he sinks down on his cock, guiding him with hands on his hips so he doesn't unbalance himself without the use of his own hands where they're tied behind his back with a belt. he stays still at first, letting gale ride him slowly, keeping his hands loosely on his waist while praising him and talking him into that foggy needy headspace until gale's thighs are trembling and john takes pity on him (and frankly is so hard he doesn't have the patience to keep his own hips still anymore).

so he runs his hands down from gale's waist to his ass to hold him in place while he rolls his hips up into him, watching the way gale's eyebrows pinch and his pretty lips fall open in a silent oh as john angles himself in a way gale couldn't with his own movements. lets his mouth run as he slowly picks up his pace, all the coos of "so pretty", "you're taking me so well", "you feel so fucking good", loving how reactive gale is to every word and every thrust.

he moves his hands to gale's hips to get a better grip, can tell gale's getting close because he gets noisier, losing his filter and letting out breathy little "fuck"s and "john"s, head rolling back on his shoulders to bare his neck, rocking his hips down to meet john every time he fucks up into him. and then just as he gets the warning of "close", he pulls gale down by his hips to bury himself deep in him and stops moving completely.

the whine of desperation that tears out of gale's throat when he lifts his head has john knocking his skull back against the wall, cock twitching hard enough inside gale that he's sure the blond can feel it. he watches gale's biceps flex when he instinctively tries to get his hands free, feels his hips try to squirm out of his hands to keep moving, but he keeps him pinned firmly down, dizzy at the way he clenches down around him.

a plaintive "john" pulls a groan from him, but he composes himself, lifts his gaze back up to gale's face and lets the corners of his lips quirk up, purrs out a "yeah, sweetheart? something wrong?"

laughs at the way gale cusses him out, a rare sight of his little spitfire with a mouth on him, though the effect is a lot closer to being hissed at by a kitty than actually being convinced to move. john lets him run his mouth, murmurs a "cute" once gale's done, and then promptly hammers his hips up into him just once, swearing under his breath at the way it punches an open–mouthed moan from gale. rocks his hips up into him a few times before going back to a quick and rough pace, the sound of skin on skin getting both of them flushed.

it only takes a minute before gale's hips are twitching into his hands and whispered pleas are falling from his mouth and john thinks he's never had to use as much self restraint in his life as he does when he forces himself to stop moving again, once again yanking gale down against him, holding him still in his lap.

gale really fights it this time, enough so that it's a merciful distraction for john from how close he himself is (trust his idea to backfire as he ends up edging himself along with gale, he thinks) when he has to use proper strength to keep him in place. any blood that might've still been lurking around his brain rushes south the moment he sees gale's eyes getting shiny with frustration, cheeks all pink and lips red and flushed from biting down on them.

"not so fun, is it?" john taunts, but his voice comes out a bit more raspy than he would've liked, evident how much the stop and start is getting to him too. it's probably karma, because he knows he's being more mean than gale was to him, but he can't help it; those blue eyes look so pretty when tears are threatening to spill over when he's desperate and needy like this.

gale wriggles in his lap the best he can, still furiously chasing his orgasm, head finally falling back in frustration before he lifts it again, looking john in the eyes, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth and letting it go. he whines quietly and whimpers out the sweetest "please, johnny," almost crying in his impatience, and fuck.

john doesn't mean for his hips to twitch up at that, but they do, hard. gale sobs out a broken sound at the way john's cock hits just where he needs it to in his accidental movement, and gale spills over his stomach completely untouched, just like that. john swears and drives his hips up into him in an attempt to quickly amend his slip up, moaning loud at the wrecked noises that immediately start bubbling up out of gale as he fucks him through his orgasm.

he tips over the edge himself from the desperate sounds the blond starts to make as he crosses the line into overstimulation, feeling gale's hips jerk frantically in his hands, fighting to get away from the incessant rhythm of his cock inside him as john shudders through his own orgasm, fingers digging into gale's sides.

he slows down to a gentle grind of his hips when gale collapses against his chest, face pressed to his neck, shivering at the slow drag inside him and whining pitifully when john eventually pulls out, settling him down on his thighs while he reaches around to undo the belt and free his hands. his heart bursts at the way gale instantly wraps his arms around him, clinging to him as they both catch their breath, john petting his hair and showering him with praise.

he eventually huffs out a laugh, murmuring a "sorry buck. payback's a bitch, but that was an accident, i swear." gale groans against him in complaint, lightly nipping at his shoulder in retaliation, too tired to fight back, but john's sure he'll pay for it eventually.

it's confirmed with the "better watch your back, darling" that he gets when they're both pulling their clothes back on, but to john, that sounds less like a threat and more like a good time, and he shoots gale a crooked grin to let him know as much.

#bruh this was 1.3k i did not mean to get into so much detail #the keep reading button has never been more necessary #i wish i could crank out long drabbles like this for all the asks #but they take sooo long for me to write i am NOT a fast writer lol hence why i post a fic like once a month #but sometimes certain asks just itch my brain some type of way and then boom i've thrown up onto a tumblr post #anyway dacryphilia my beloved <3 #in any other scenario john hates to see gale cry. but i think in bed he would have an affinity for making him feel so good that he cries #have i thought about this extensively? perhaps.#i just think that pretty boys with pretty eyes and pink lips deserve to cry during sex sometimes. as a treat #johnslittlespoon asks #johnslittlespoon brainrot #johnslittlespoon spicy #buck x bucky #buckbucky #johnslittlespoon writes

104 notes · View notes

micamicster · 2 months

Text

Super Rich Kids

Close my eyes and feel the crash...

I wrote this one on post-its on a trans-continental flight after my phone (where i was re-reading the raven cycle) died. 0/10 plane experience would not recommend but I did manage to entertain myself! And now hopefully you as well!

When Ronan pulled into Monmouth Manufacturing he knew Gansey wouldn’t be there. Adam Parrish was, though, sitting on the steps in the golden afternoon light, bike dumped to the side in dying grass. He didn’t so much as flicker an eyelid when Ronan bootlegged the BMW into an approximation of parking on the far side of the lot, which was fine because that’s how he would have parked the car anyway, whether or not Adam was here.

Ronan was pretty sure that Gansey had arranged a shift system with the other boys, to prevent Ronan from being unaccompanied on the rare occasions of his own absence. The idea of a babysitter should have rankled Ronan, but Adam did not seem particularly invested in his role. Small favors.

As he got out of the car he gave Adam his customary once-over, as brief as it was habitual. You could notice a lot in a single glance, if you were Ronan, glancing at Adam.

Adam was wearing long sleeves (his father? Or just because it was October?) and his faded camo pants, the ones Ronan said made him look like a jingoistic meathead. They had recently acquired a tear in one knee. Not in the stylish, deliberate manner in which Ronan’s own jeans were shredded, but awkwardly, in an L-shape, where they had caught on some jagged edge and given way before even careful Adam had noticed and unhooked himself. The tear gaped open at times, like it was doing now, revealing Adam’s knobby left knee and, worse, a triangle of his brown thigh.

Ronan looked away.

Ronan never allowed himself, even in dreams, to trespass beyond the carefully demarcated boundaries of Adam’s clothes. And Adam was usually helpful in the maintenance of this boundary. Unlike Gansey, who could be found working on his model Henrietta in boxers at all hours of the night, or wandering to and from the shower in a towel, absent-mindedly forgetting his clothes in bathroom or bedroom. Unlike the boys Ronan played tennis with, who stripped down casually in the locker room after practice. Unlike even Ronan himself, who’d never met a shirt he couldn’t rip the sleeves off; Adam was always fully covered.

This summer, foolishly, Ronan had imagined that this might change. Now that the hideous secrets Adam protected with his long sleeves were no longer his alone. But by now he knew what kept those sleeves in place, something that Adam had already understood: that knowing and seeing are two very different things.

For example: this. Ronan knew that Adam, like most people who walked around on earth under their own power, possessed thighs. Two of them, attached in the normal way to other body parts, such as knees and hips. To know this was one thing.

Now that he’d seen it, he couldn’t stop seeing it. The way his knee bent, and the muscle above shifted as Adam made room on the steps for him. Ronan was looking away, out at the familiar, grounding, skid marks on the concrete of Monmouth’s lot, but he could picture in their place with deadly accuracy the hinge of Adam’s knee, the tanned skin of his thigh, scattered with golden-brown hair. He could dream about pressing his face against it.

He picked up a rock and hurled it. It glanced off the side of the soulless suburban and fell anticlimactically into the grass dying by the rear tire. It didn’t help.

Adam shifted next to him, subtly.

“What?” said Ronan. “Impressed?”

“Surprised, more like. I thought you were supposed to be the tennis star.”

“You think you can do better?” Ronan pried another hunk of gravel or concrete out of the dirt and tossed it in his left hand, tauntingly.

“I know I can.”

“But?”

“But,” said Adam, with some hint of exasperation coloring his voice, “I’m not going to sit here chunking rocks at Gansey’s car to prove it. My ego’s not that fragile.” His accent slipped out on chunkin’, not as if Ronan had pissed him off enough to forget to hide it, but as if it was a word he’d never used any other way.

Ronan threw his rock again. This was, if anything, a worse throw than before, and it skittered harmlessly across the suburban’s roof.

Adam made a small but contemptuous noise.

“Don’t give me that shit, man. You know he hates this fucking car.”

“That was for your shitty aim.”

“Come on then.” Ronan hefted another piece of gravel. “Ten points if you knock out his taillight.”

“It costs a hundred and five dollars to replace a taillight on that make and model. Plus tax.”

Ronan’s brief cheer was collapsing again. “I’ll pay you a hundred bucks to bust Dick’s lights.”

Adam blinked slowly, his dusty eyelashes obscuring the contempt in his eyes for a brief moment. “I’ll leave.” (He wouldn’t).

Ronan dropped the rock. Next to him Adam sighed. Abruptly, he put out his hand. “Telephone pole. Six feet from the top.”

Ronan swept back up the rock and dropped it into his hand. Their fingers did not touch. His heart thudded.

Adam tossed the rock once, testing its weight while his gaze, cool and assessing, remained on the telephone pole. It was a splintered, tilting thing, shamed by his attentions. In one smooth, economical movement, he rose to his feet and let the rock fly. His leg went forward, knee jutting out of his clothes, his back curved, and his arm swept around in an arc, fingers scraping at the blue October sky. Ronan didn’t need to turn his head to know if the rock hit—he could see it in the brief hard satisfaction on Adam’s face.

Adam turned back to him, one eyebrow cocked.

“You’re going to have to do better than that if you want to earn that hundred,”

Adam shrugged. The gesture was disinterested, but there was a quirk to his mouth that contradicted it. “I know nothing blew up, but…”

Ronan already had another rock in his hand. “West corner lightbulb. It breaks or it doesn’t count.” Adam rolled his eyes, but turned agreeably to watch Ronan miss.

“Would you like to get your tennis racket?”

“Eat me,” said Ronan. (Maybe).

They traded shots back and forth for a while, calling increasingly specific and complex plays.

“Bullshit. Bullshit.”

“Get the government to pay for some glasses, Parrish, and then come back and try to tell me that wasn’t a fucking bullseye—”

“It wasn’t even close! You—”

“You calling me a liar?” Ronan loomed, and Adam, as usual, was unimpressed.

“Just because you don’t lie doesn’t make you right all the time! Like when you said that quote on Tuesday was Seneca. It doesn’t stop being Martial just because you’ve got a child’s sense of morality—”

“See, right there.” Ronan pointed triumphantly at an invisible scuff mark on the doorsill, marking where his handful of gravel had made impact.

Adam gave it a skeptical glance. His face was faintly flushed from exertion in the cold air, but his eyes were as cool and considering as ever. “What we need,” he said, “is a knife.”

Ronan was not allowed knives.

“Are you trying to stab each other in the feet? Why are your shoes off! It’s October!”

“Equal playing field.” Ronan wiggled his toes against the cold asphalt. “Parrish’s shitty knife is no match for my boots.” Over Gansey’s head, Ronan tried to catch Adam’s eye, to share a ‘can you believe him’ sort of look. Adam’s embarrassment over being caught acting irresponsibly meant Ronan could expect the look to be rebuffed, but he couldn’t help himself from trying it anyway.

Adam was bent over, eyes hidden. He carefully dusted off his socked feet one at a time before sliding them back into his shoes, as though the socks or sneakers could look any worse. A little parking lot crud might improve their appearance, actually.

Next to him, Gansey was still fussing. Without the pressure release valve of eye contact with someone who knew Gansey was overreacting, Ronan snapped, “Come off it, man, I’m not going to slit my throat while Parrish watches. He can’t afford that caliber of snuff film.”

Gansey’s concern transformed into revulsion, but underneath it he looked hurt, which was far far worse.

Adam straightened up. “We were just using it to mark where we hit. Honestly, we could have done it tossing a sharpie, but neither of us had one.” He sounded conciliatory, which pissed Ronan off. But Gansey was letting it go, returning the knife to Adam with an apologetic smile. Sorry for the fuss. Sorry for Ronan. Ronan’s bare feet were cold against the asphalt.

“Well? Are you going to throw or not, Parrish?” he said belligerently.

Adam rolled his eyes, but obligingly stooped for gravel and let one fly at Ronan’s open bedroom window, a shot he made easily.

Gansey whistled. “You’ve got quite the arm on you. How come you’re not on the Algionby baseball team?”

Adam shifted his feet, awkwardly.

“Please,” scoffed Ronan, “he’s not a team player.”

Gansey did not let it go. “Bet you’d have a better fastball than both our pitchers.”

There was a pause, during which Adam’s face clearly showed all of the thoughts he was trying to corral into a polite response to Gansey’s unconsidered enthusiasm. Ronan got there first. “Yeah, Parrish, why not hitch your wagon to the star of organized sports, like every other rags to riches wannabe?”

“Ronan!” said Gansey, Ronan’s offensiveness registering where his own had not.

“Hitch my wagon to a star?” Adam was unruffled. “I thought quoting Transcendentalists could get you excommunicated.”

“Who said I know it’s Emerson. It’s a sourceless idiom to those of us who aren’t sad little nerds.”

Adam smirked. The smirk said, I never said Emerson. His words said, “Gansey’s damning me with faint praise. No one’s going pro out of an Algionby sport team. Even tennis.”

“Ouch,” said Ronan, cheerfully. “Hit me where it really hurts. My school pride.”

Now that Gansey had arrived, his plans for the day took precedence over noble pastimes such as flipping pocketknives at each other’s feet. His plans involved comparing readings from various instruments and then placing said various instruments in various new locations, all of which were equally arbitrary (to Ronan’s eyes) and inaccessible. Gansey’s plans involved him waiting by the car to monitor the readings while people hiked with antennae to the outermost reaches of the signal. People, in this instance, being Ronan and Adam, Noah having mysteriously and silently fucked off, as he so often did when a job required carrying anything.

Ronan put his head down and trudged. It was brambly here, and slightly damp, and he was beginning to work up the kind of counter-intuitive sweat that appears from working in the cold, the kind that makes you colder later.

As the person leading the hike, custom would dictate that he should catch and hold the long clinging arms of the brambles for the following hiker. This presented a dilemma. Ronan compromised, and set about stomping the multiflora into the ground as he walked. Scarlet hips burst under his feet, invasive and beautiful, spreading their millions of seeds across the damp earth. Noxious weeds.

“It’s too unreliable,” said Adam, into the silence. “Sports. It all depends on… your physical condition.”

“And your condition is shit.”

There was Adam’s ironic smile. “Yes. So.” He shrugged. There was the part they weren’t saying, which was that his physical condition could always get worse. Unexpectedly.

“My dad hates baseball.” Ronan heard himself make the slip—hates and not hated—and a spark of fury burned through him, brief and inconsequential.

“My dad loves it.”

They marched on in silence.

Adam swore as a bramble Ronan had beaten down sprang up again, catching him right across the tear, where his skin was exposed. He bent to unhook it from the camo with deft, deliberate hands. “What?” he said, like he could feel Ronan’s eyes.

Ronan looked away. “Why not the military?” He kicked purposelessly at the bramble and heard Adam sigh. “And don’t tell me you never thought about it. Test scores like yours out in hicksville high school, you must have had recruiters hopping all over you like fleas.”

“Would you believe I had a moral objection?” Adam’s smile was self-deprecating. Ronan studied it.

“No.”

Adam shrugged. It, too, was self-deprecating.

“I think you had a superiority objection. You think you’re too smart for that shit.”

Adam blinked at him. “Do you think I’m wrong?”

Ronan snorted. “Hell no. You can do better than getting blown up in a desert for the United States government.”

The smile, when it came, was small and stunning. “Damned by faint praise again.”

#lmao with this and the country playlists this blog has been on a real raven boys kick the last few days #anyway... enjoy?#i need to make a tag for my writing like... generally but until then #super rich kids #this really isn't about anything and had nothing else attached to it #it was just a random scene that stood alone so like...#probably the best thing for me to start out this 'posting unfinished stuff' project #i feel like gansey does not appear at his best in this fic but that's not a reflection of how much i love him!#he's trying his best to keep this family together! and the other 15 year olds are no help at all!#ronan lynch #adam parrish #the raven cycle #pynch #tw suicide mention

95 notes · View notes

jtl-fics · 1 year

Text

Fluent Freshman - Part 20

FF had watched more than a few self-defense videos when he believed that Andrew Minyard was looking for a dark alley to stab him in. He had learned how to turn the attacker’s momentum against them. Had learned about disarming the person trying to stab him.

He’d even had Matt teach him a few punches claiming that it was for the dust-ups that tended to happen on the court.

He, naturally, does not use any of that knowledge because his mind immediately reverts into Lizard panic mode the moment Jackson Plank takes another step forward with a knife (HUGE. Is it wild that he is thinking about Crocodile Dundee right now?)

“If you come quietly you won’t get hurt.” Jackson says and he reverts to who he is as a person and he freezes. His bravery was used up maybe it was only ever tied to great pump up songs and now in the silence of the alley he is back to being Stone-Faced Smith.

“You’re going to dial up Wesninski and if you don’t say EXACTLY what I tell you to then I’m going to have you SING in agony.”

Y’know in that moment he stops thinking about Crocodile Dundee.

He thinks about a movie that is far more ingrained in his mind than any number of self-defense videos or one-off lessons with Matthew Boyd where he’d been trying not to flinch. A movie he had watched in better days with his family and had been a favorite of his Grandma’s (and his).

He thinks about Miss Congeniality.

Sandra Bullock as Gracie Hart has taught him everything he ever truly needs to know when he takes a step back and Jackson comes at him.

He strikes right at Jackson’s nose with the palm of his hand.

“SON OF A-“

The knife is dropped and FF kicks it under a dumpster.

FF grabs the single weapon he has on his person.

The McDonald’s Megamind Happy Meal Light Effects Brainbot.

He points the LED light straight at Jackson’s eyes and just like Aaron in the car on the way back, “Shit, that’s bright!” And now completely blinded by a combination of watery eyes and LED McDonald’s toy he proceeds to SING just as Gracie Hart had taught him.

S - Solar Plexus. He punches Jackson there as hard as he can.

I - Instep. He smashes his booted foot down on the inside of Jackson’s shoes (who the fuck wears LOAFERS to a kidnapping?)

N - Nose. He’d feel bad about hitting it again if Jackson wasn’t y’know…a hitman out to hurt Captain Neil.

G - Groin. He may have to give himself just half a second to apologize to all of mankind for what he is about to do. His step brothers had definitely kicked him in the groin plenty of times to try and get a reaction. It’s an art to not let anyone know that your ball has retreated up into lower intestine. He kicks Jackson as hard as he can (collegiate athlete) with the boots that Nicky had let him borrow. He is right on target with the toe of his shoes.

Jackson goes down.

The next thing he does is not something Gracie Hart had taught him but does still feel like the right thing to do in this situation. He kicks Jackson in the head and the man goes limp.

If FF throws both hands up in the air and lets out a “I am Miss Congeniality!” Victory cry into the alleyway well no one is around or awake to know that.

He feels like he deserves a sash and a crown and some flowers.

He looks down at Jackson and then over at the van the man had hopped out of. He was definitely PLANNING on kidnapping Captain Neil so he probably has like…some kind of restraint?

Well, better to completely subdue this guy before he tries to figure out the game plan for Romero. Wait, what’s that next to the Crocodile Dundee knife, are those...?

***

Roland is calling for a second time.

Andrew had let it go to voicemail the first time. It was usually Roland complaining about Nicky, Aaron, or Kevin doing something exceptionally stupid in their inebriated states. They have a system. Roland will call and leave a voicemail detailing the dumb shit his family has gotten up to and then he’ll let it go.

If Roland calls twice then there’s an issue.

Arm still around Neil’s shoulders he answers the phone, “What.” He asks.

“You need to help your new friend. There’s some guy following him, he’s armed and dangerous and looking for someone to grab to get Neil’s attention. He tried to lead the guy outside but he’s standing watching it for now so there might have already been someone waiting?” Roland gets out in a rush and Andrew is up and moving towards the stairs even as he’s closing the phone to disconnect the call.

Neil, of course, is right on his heels. “What is it? Did something happen?” Neil asks and they are up the stairs and pushing past Frank and his stupid pineapple shirt. Andrew spots Nicky and he spots Aaron.

“Get Nicky and Aaron somewhere safe. I need to go help Smith with something.” He says because whoever this is wants Neil and Andrew will not let Neil get within grabbing distance and won’t mention it. Neil, blessedly, does what Andrew asks without question.

Andrew scans the crowd and finds a man whose gaze goes between his phone and the back door.

A face that Andrew had memorized.

One of Nathan’s surviving men.

In the same Zip Code as Neil.

And that man has the audacity to still be breathing.

He looks and Nicky and Aaron (drunk, drugged, and useless because Andrew had wanted them to be) are with Neil and Roland is directing them to the backroom.

Andrew goes out the alley and can feel Romero’s eyes on him.

He’s prepared for a lot of things to see out in that alley. He’s angry that FF hadn’t just come down and grabbed him and Neil (he does not need TWO martyrs) and he wants to know what the fuck FF was thinking (or if he was thinking at all). Even with that anger he does not wish to see FF’s blood spilled all over an alleyway because Andrew’s family needed to be protected and FF was the only one sober enough and aware enough to do it.

He knows what Nathan’s men are capable of.

Knows that Romero was one of Nathan’s best so if there is someone out in the alleyway then it’s likely one of his other bests.

FF doesn’t even know how to use a knife. He had asked and FF had firmly declined every time Andrew had brought it up after the first fainting incident. “I’m not interested in learning that. No.” Had been the standard response.

He knew FF had at least taken a lesson or two from Boyd on throwing a punch considering the one he shot out a week ago when a Striker came at him after the third time FF intercepted a pass.

Still, Andrew had not anticipated coming out into the alleyway and finding an unharmed FF securing an unconscious Jackson Plank’s arms behind his back with fuzzy handcuffs.

“Am I interrupting something?” He asks and FF looks up at him with a flush on his cheeks.

“It’s not my fault this is a weird sex alleyway! They’re the first thing I found on my way over to the van to look for actual restraints.” FF says immediately and Andrew almost laughs at the insanity of it. “Wait, where’s Captain Neil?” FF looks around nervously.

“He’s with Aaron and Nicky in the backroom. Roland gave me your S.O.S.” Andrew says even as he quickly makes his way away from the door and towards FF. “Romero is watching the door. Let’s give him a reason to come out.” He says going over to Jackson and when he rolls the man over he raises an eyebrow at the piss stain on his pants and the blood dripping down his nose.

He looks to FF who resolutely does not look back at him.

It’s a story he’ll get out of his friend eventually. Looks like FF didn’t really need those knife lessons. Something settles a bit more in Andrew, it’s nice to have someone else in their group that could handle themselves in a fight.

Andrew finds a phone and FF rolls Jackson back onto his stomach, “He could choke on his own blood.” He shrugs and Andrew wouldn’t care if Jackson choked on his own blood in fuzzy handcuffs in a back alley but he can understand FF not wanting a murder charge.

Andrew looks at the phone and sees the the swipe pattern clear as day. It takes him two tries to get the order right but then Jackson’s phone is available for him to get over to the texting app.

The texts he reads there make him angry. There were a lot of plans on what the two of them were going to do to Neil before his body was offered up to a different crime family to show that Romero and Jackson had no loyalty left to the Wesninski line.

He types out a text to Romero that will have the jackass come out thinking everything had gone well and they had two hostages. He looks over to FF, “You ready for round two?” He asks.

“There isn’t a tap out option right?” FF asks and Andrew laughs at the joke.

Always cool under pressure it seems.

“No.”

“Then yeah, I guess just hit send.” FF says with a shrug.

Andrew does just that.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

Didn’t wanna leave ya’ll hanging on that particular cliffhanger for too long ;)

@i-have-three-feelings @blep-23 @dreamerking27 @andreilsmyreligion @belodensetdust @rainbowpineapplebottle @yarn-ace @iwouldlikesometea @lily-s-world @obscureshipsandchips @booklover242 @whataboutmyfries @sahturnos @pluto-pepsi @dreamerthinker @passinhosdetartaruga @leftunknownheart @aro-manita-muscaria @hologramsaredead @Chaoticgremlinswishtheycouldbeme @tntwme @tayspots @nick-scar @crazy-fangirl2524 @blue-jos10 @stabbyfoxandrew @splishsplashyouropinionistrash @sammichly @the-broken-pen @bitchesdoweknowu @very-small-flower @ghostlyboiii @its-a-paxycab @bisexual-genderfluid-fan @cheesecookie @theoneandonlylostsock @foxsoulcourt @blueleys @adverbialstarlight @elia-nna @can-i-just-stay-in-the-corner @nikodiangel @foxandcrow-inatrenchcoat @hallucinatedjosten @satanic-foxhole-court @vexingcosmos @chalilodimun @insectsgetcooked @angry-kid-with-no-money @queer-crows @lillyndra @themugglemudperson @readertodeath @apileofpillows @mortalsbowbeforeme @hellomynameismoo @next-level-mess @youreonlylow @interstellarfig @notprocrastinatingatalltoday @percyjacksonfan3 @queenofcrazy27 @bsmr261 @ghostlyscares @spencellio @adinthedarkroom @harpymoth @sufferingjustalilbit @anxietymoss @oddgreyhound @ohno-myhyperfixation-itsbroken @ken22789 @atiredvampire @isoldescorner @not--a--pipedream @azure-wing @bushbees @roonilwazlib-main @crumplelush @foldedaces-paperbirds @thesenseinnonsense @let-tyrants-fear @ketchupfriesandallthingsnice @legowerewolf @deadlydodos @but-we-respect-his-craft @cariniqe @zanypersonapricotbiscuit

The requests to be added to the tag list keep being spread out across a few different areas. If I missed you please just ask again in the replies I promise I just missed you.

As stated before if you’re up here and I spelled it right but you didn’t get a notification there might be something switched around in your settings that won’t let me tag you properly?

#Fluent Freshman AU #I would like to thank Sandra Bullock's performance for allowing me to write the stupidest fight scene ever #I would also like to thank my sister for getting engaged on April 25th so Miss Congeniality was floating around in the noggin already #Andrew: Smith is really cool under pressure. He can make jokes at a time like this.#FF: What if no one believes me that I found these handcuffs in the alley?#He's too focused on the embarrassment of using those handcuffs to focus on the fact that round 2 is about to happen #Did my 'research' involve finding out EXACTLY what McDonald's happy meal toys were being offered November 2010 #Perhaps #The internet really does just have like a whole shitload of people who will just have a database of seemingly useless knowledge #I love those people #Neil may be pacing up a storm in the back room but Keeping Nicky away from the dance floor is a full time job #For ONCE Aaron is the easy one to deal with #Roland just gave him a virgin drink and he's happy #AFTG #AFTG OC #AFTG AU #AFTG Fic #My Fics #It's shorter because I didn't wanna leave ya'll hanging #FF - Pt. 20

423 notes · View notes

moonshynecybin · 4 months

Note

Hi! I have been thinking about Marc and the ways he expresses his anger... giving the cold shoulder... the silent treatment if you will (he will speak ABOUT vale but not TO vale let alone WITH vale)... need your input please....

hmm good question.... this got. STUPID long sorry

uhhh marc is, in general, good at keeping his (negative) emotions in check. like i think marc loooooves to think of himself on track as a mature, controlled, and rational dude. above distraction. a killer. a cyborg. idk his dad has talked about how he doesnt really complain much about injury and there's also allll these stories about what a mature kid he was... so i think that when he was young - ESPECIALLY in a racing sense because he was so much younger than most of the people he was competing against - he internalized that in order to do all the stuff he wants to do racing-wise, he reallyyyy has to keep a level head and not well. act his age! and i think that extends to a lot of how he manages his emotions today (at least in a public setting). even in places where im pretty sure hes PISSED (sepang. phillip island 2013.) he just kind of. visibly contains himself. not a confrontational dude in the outright sense he'll clench his jaw and try to work through it.

which is part of what makes his valentino-oriented crazy so interesting. bc people were noticing that marc in 2015 was kind of. being weird. as his and valentino's relationship deteriorated. like they were both outwardly very much like we can keep it on track :) until the big fallout towards the end of the year but uhhhh. well marc has said that vale started pulling back in september of 2014 like he was noticing SOMETHING, and they clashed on track A LOT in 2015, and i think marc sensed vale cooling on him and freaked a lil. hashtag neurotic 22 year old moments. he is my favorite crazy ex girlfriend. like usually he IS good at separating that stuff out and managing his emotions in the racing sense but in assen that year when vale overtook him off track after they made contact he raised a BIG stink with race direction and actually had some uh. not especially chill quotes about it. (it should be noted marc was also flopping for the first time in his motogp career. like in his brain he stopped winning AND vale stopped talking to him he was goin through it) adn all the reporters noticed too they were like. why werent you sucking and fucking in parc ferme. like vale's left turn wrt to spaniard sabotage comes outta nowhere but people WERE noticing that things were changing. i bet marc noticed too. BUT they are not the type of people to talk about these things so they keep it to vague flirting in presscons and escalating on-track tension slash proxy wars waged in race-direction contexts... liek truly you are 22 you are not going to keep your championship title and your hot sports idol bestie is no longer flirting with you on twitter and you COULD just talk to him about that but you'd rather DIE so youre going to ask honda to back you up to race direction about your last race where you DEFINITELY lost bc winning is the ONLY thing thatll make you feel better. even though thatll help convince your hot sports idol that you are engaging in a benedict arnold level betrayal scheme against him. an insane time to be marc marquez. 2015 really kind of is a study on how both of them handle losing: NOT WELL.

and then the thing about sepang is that then the lid is blown clean off and marc spends the ENTIRE race being annoying on purposeeeee. hes so fucking pissed and hurt at valentino that he decides to get under his skin for REALSIES instead of focusing on his race. like idk he probably would have fought hard for the win without the drama that how he works but uh. i think he was being annoying specifically to bite at vale's edges. and part of that is bc marc is naturally and effortlessly annoying. but i think part of it was SPITE. like his team advised him not to speak on anything from that presscon and he didnt, but he can still fuck him over on track. get under his skin. like he cant tell vale to his FACE that he's angry and confused and hurt. but he CAN let him know on that fucking racing line. where he cant be ignored. idk like i cant see marc letting anyone else get under his skin like that.

AND another big ass exception to the marc marquez anger management philosophy is from misano 2019 where vale messes with his qualifying lap. a lovely anon sent me some videos of marc talking to the press and jesus christ i dont think ive ever seen him angrier oh my god. AND the anon also linked the race from that weekend where he won and he celebrated harder than ive seen him celebrate some TITLE wins like he went. notably nuts. the commentators were all like uhhhh. he mustve REALLY wanted to get one over on vale adjfhlkdh... idk if any of this answered your question but his relationship to his emotions fascinates me hes so weirddddd. and its interesting to me that he can shrug off jorge ruining his last race at honda and be friendly but also be like. kind of aloofly pissed at bezz. because of valentino! he can repress the rest of it, but valentino shines through the cracks.

#its interesting bc theres also this tension with him where he keeps all of this tightly controlled and then he also REALLY wants you to know #about it. like in his docuseries hes like okay i know we have to talk about valentino :/ which is CRAZY bc he is producing that series #and its about his comback from injury. he could have EASILY left it out but he wanted to set the record straight #and also pull the punch/make it seem like hes no longer invested by saying he doesnt wanna talk about it #idk i think he was smart to keep his mouth shut in sepang 2015 but it CLEARLY cost him #like i think his own reservedness confines him sometimes and he chafes. and it bubbles out. like marc dont you just wanna go apeshit.#anyways this isnt even my entire marc and anger thesis like i need to go back to grad school lmao #callie speaks #motogp #asks #marc marquez #rosquez #tbh. i should just write some fic. hmm.#long post

111 notes · View notes

littlelightfish · 1 month

Text

We alredy know what's Chilchuck's worst nightmare. What if I told you that it was canon?

His daughters have alredy been eaten. His wife was eaten too. His family are all dead. His worst nightmare has come truth. And he for sure feels like it's partially his fault, because it's the Winged Lion doing, yes, but who helped Laios get here? Chilchuck. And who's daughters and wife are now dead because of it? Chilchuck's. The suggestion of recreating them tells us that they've alredy been eaten. The way he says it makes it feel like it's too late. They're dead. Because of him. Of his actions. Of his job. The irony of it all is actually quite cruel. He makes a union so he can prevent bad things to happen to his race, to his family, and then, and he works at the union. And now, because of his job, he got them all killed.

He doesn't even know how his daughters are until way later, I don't even know if in the manga they send letters to him during the feast, because I know they don't go to said feast. So Chilchuck doesn't know if his girls are alright until, again, way later. We know they don't die because, well, there's this comic of them going to meet Laios, the new king. But if not for that, who could tell us they didn't die on the monster appearances? I can imagine that after the feast Chil went stright to check on them. Because he loves his daughters, and he cares for his wife. He sucks at communicating it, yes, but he does.

He doesn't want to risk his family's safety. But he, unknowingly, unwillingly, indirectly, did. He got them eaten by those demons because he helped his friends achieve his goal. Because he cared about Falin and wanted her to be human again. Because he cared about Laios and didn'twanted to see him loose his sister. Because he cared about Marcille, Senshi and Itsuzumi. He cares so much about everyone and wants to help everyone (in his own way), that he doesn't think that the result would, inevitably so, be the worst outcome for him. The one in wich work and private life get mixed together. His job as a member of Laios's party ended dragging his family in, despite his best efforts. His job ended up, not only endangering the whole word with demons, but his family. His four precious girls. It ended up almost killing them (probably it killed them for some time because getting eaten by those demons works wierd).

Worst part? He didn't have the time to be mourn over what he 100% sure thought was the complete loss of his family. He was in a hurry to survive himself, so he pushed those sad feelings and tried his best to help who he had left. Later on he finds out that the demons spitted out people. And he seems shocked with some kind of surprised relief.

He looks how everyone that got eaten was alive. And he can't quite either believe it nor understand it. He is really confused. So they didn't die? Are my daughters ok? Is my wife ok? Did everybody survived? Are they alive? He dares to hope that they're all ok and pulls into a box his feelings again, saving it up for when he has the time to be overwhelmed about this all. He has a feast, trying not to worry, but worried sick. Then he goes home and checks on them.

Give this poor man a break and a beer...

#do not.#make him miserable #make him suffer #because #he is a father and a husband and is worried sick about his family well-being all the time #they are why he acts like he does #why he tries to keep family and work in separate rooms #but he fails so catastrophically its almost comical #like #luckily they were alright #but its a miracle his hair doesn't turn white right away #maybe he writed a letter to his daughters during the prepararions for the feast #that would explain why he doesn't have a single white hair after this #but we'll say he disnt for the sake of angst #dungeon meshi #chilchuck #chilchuck tims #chilchuck angst #dunmeshi #dunmeshi angst #dungeon meshi angst #dungeon meshi spoilers #delicious in dungeon #if you want to write something about this #dm me the fic #i NEED TO SEE THE ANGST #@ me if you don't want to dm me but i might not see it because it would get lost in my notifs :(#my shit

129 notes · View notes

cosmicpoutine · 2 months

Text

give me a reason to talk about bernard, and i won't shut up about him

#bernard dowd #i saw someone write tim calling him “bear” in a fic ONE TIME and i haven't stopped thinking about that #i love it that he has his own thing going on #i love that hes a genius MAJORING IN PHYSICS??? JEZHUS #his parents are homophobic keep him realistic and relatable #hes perfect #tim drake doesnt deserve bernard #hes too good

86 notes · View notes

13eyond13 · 3 months

Text

love it when a character that's hard to read intuitively for you has like a dedicated fandom interpreter who can just glance at their blank face in a panel and then give you a 3k word essay on their innermost thoughts & desires & fears and neatly tie it back into the themes & whatnot as if it's the most obvious thing in the world

#im talking about griffith btw #guts i feel i get intuitively - maybe because i have some personality traits in common with him #and we get more about his life concretely told to us in canon. so he is a bit easier to pin down as a character and feel attached to for me #but whenever i was reading the manga i just kept wanting more insight about griffith's actions and feelings #like ok yeah its fun to have mysterious antagonists and suspense /tension etc but its also fun to feel like you deeply understand them too #and i felt like that was a bit missing from him for me in canon #so reading about him in analysis and fics is the most fun for me rn #he always felt kinda half unreal to me- which maybe was the point of him - but i wanted a bit more about his childhood or something?#and wished we had more stuff explicitly from his pov in the story to read or explanation about his transformation or wtv #and now he's so much more closed off to me even than he was in the golden age. i keep waiting for him to explain stuff and he does not #ANYWAYS all this rambling to say some people out there are very good at interpreting him and making his like. insecurities #more obvious to me bc i didnt really get that side of him from canon intuitively well #also im really enjoying reading the first few berserk fics ive read #there may not be a ton of them out there but there is def writing talent in the fandom #i'll share some recs once i'm done sifting through most of what's out there to read #also (not to tie everything back to death note but it IS my home fandom after all)#i feel griffith is obvs the more light-like character here and L maybe a bit guts-like? but unlike berserk in death note #light is the one you get to know best and L is the mysterious / unreal one you don't get a lot of concrete insight into #and in the DN fandom I can read the more mysterious character intuitively but had to warm up to the less mysterious one instead #and the mystery of L makes sense to me and doesnt bug me as much due to like - he HAS to hide a lot about himself or else he will die lol #so some similarities there but also some opposite feels as well #berserk spoilers #p

77 notes · View notes

total-drama-brainrot · 2 months

Note

TD World Tour AU, where Noah doesn't tell Owen that Alejandro is an eel in London... In Area 51, Noah is accidentally splashed with an alien truth potion (which wears off after a few days) and he talks to Owen... Owen asks Noah what he truly thinks about Alejandro, and Truth-Potion Affected Noah says this: "I have mixed feelings for Alejandro. He's a brilliant, interesting guy and I like him, but I don't trust him. He's like a slippery eel dipped in grease, swimming in motor oil. Basically, Heather with social skills. Wait a minute, why am I telling you this?!"... What if Alejandro secretly heard Noah call him all those conflicting things + Alejandro also learns that Noah is affected with an alien truth potion? 👽

Alright, you got me. I'm an absolute sucker for truth potion plots, especially when the character(s) effected by them are usually either pathological liars or incredibly secretive- of which Noah absolutely falls into the second category, given he shares so little personal information.

I'll gloss over why Noah declined to shit-talk Alejandro in London (though there's so many ways this change in behaviour could be justified) since the focal point of this hypothetical centred around their time in Nevada, so let's start from the beginning of the Area 51 challenge.

Area 51:

Before we start, it'll have to be established that no one was eliminated in London. Let's say that the majority vote went towards Duncan (team CIRRRRH voted him out immediately because they found his re-admission to the competition unfair, I guess. I imagine he'd also vote himself, if not as a plan to escape the competition he'd been actively skiving from, then just as an act of spite) but Chris instead claimed it was a rewards challenge- much like he does in Greece- because he doesn't want to let Duncan slip away again so soon.

I see no reason to alter the first part of the challenge- the sneaking into Area 51 portion- since team CIRRRRH's course of entry is fairly straightforward. Noah's presence doesn't make much of a difference to how it would play out; the majority of them throw their rocks and run, Owen gets lasered over the fence and Owen-napped, ect ect.

When both teams have managed to make their way into the Black Box Warehouse, Noah immediately suggests they should prioritise rescuing Owen. Tyler's quick to agree, since he's a firm believer in the "no man left behind" mentality (and he probably makes a not-so-subtle jab towards Noah for his chance of tune compared to London, where both he and Owen did leave Tyler behind) leaving Duncan and Alejandro to split from the group- Duncan in search of Gwen, and Alejandro just takes the opportunity to finally be free from his 'incompetent teammates' and prioritises finding an artifact.

Noah and Tyler come across the contraption Owen's trapped in, Tyler punches it in a futile effort to break it open, and the face hugger cube drops into Noah's hands. This is where the point of divergence comes into play; Tyler has his E.T. moment with one of the face huggers, but Noah- who's a tad bit more observant than Alejandro, and used to dodging surprise attacks from his various older siblings (and Izzy)- anticipates his own face hugger attack and promptly starts a game of cat-and-mouse with a taser alien hot on his heels.

The commotion of which attracts the rest of his team. Alejandro and Duncan arrive on the scene to see Tyler being electrocuted by an alien and Noah running in circles evading another.

Duncan attempts to rip the face hugger from Tyler's face, finding success at the cost of sending Tyler trampling into Owen's captive contraption (essentially taking Alejandro's canonical place in this scene) and inadvertently freeing Owen.

Meanwhile, Alejandro swipes up the nearest box he can find and snags the alien chasing Noah, who's still very loudly panicking as he flees, and succeeds! The alien is swiftly captured into the box, netting team CIRRRRH their artifact, and Noah promptly goes careening into the nearest tower of junk in his face hugger-fuelled hysteria. This causes another box to topple from the peak of the tower, landing directly on Noah's head and spilling its contents onto the bookworm- glass vials filled with a mysterious, luminescent cobalt blue liquid shatter into pieces drenching Noah in whatever they contained. (i.e. truth potion.)

Owen has his false-amnesia moment, characterised by his Joker makeover, and Alejandro enacts his revenge post-hypnotic suggestion after being addressed as "Al" one too many times.

Noah, understandably, swiftly objects to Owen's treatment and demands that Alejandro snap him out of it. Alejandro concedes, and Owen's brought back to himself. At least, for a moment, before the fatigue of having his mind messed with sends Owen into near-catatonia (the same as canon), meaning he has to be ferried through the Warehouse and back to the Jet by Alejandro and Duncan.

Things carry on canonically from there; Noah's just sort of there for the most part, though there'd be a minor hint to his newfound proclivity for honesty. Something along the lines of him giving an uncharacteristically honest answer to Owen as to who he's voting- Tyler, of course, since he was the one who ultimately threw the challenge for them... and also because Tyler still holds some resentment towards Noah for what happened in London, and Noah feels guilty about it every time he looks at the jock. Wait, why did he say that?

Sometime between this and the elimination scene, Noah wipes the truth-goop off of himself, but not before the effects have already started.

Tyler's voted out, yada yada yada.

The Jet:

Thus begins the start of "Picnic at Hanging Dork". Team CIRRRRH, consisting of just Alejandro, Duncan, Owen and Noah, are slumming it up in the Economy Cabin. Alejandro tries to rally his team by asking how to break apart Courtney and Heather's tentative co-operation. Owen suggests having Alejandro seduce Heather, since it worked for both Bridgette and Leshawna. Duncan makes his "Babe Olympics" comment. Noah pipes up that playing with someone's feelings is pretty scummy, even for someone competing for a million dollars.

Alejandro takes Noah's reluctance towards his methodology poorly; he hadn't spoken up before, when Alejandro had utilized the same strategy against other girls- and even Owen noticed that, so surely Noah did too- so why was he to outwardly against him using the same tricks? Duncan agrees, and offers ''his'' idea of having Alejandro flirt with Courtney to throw both her and Heather off their games (since Heather has an obvious crush on Alejandro), and things follow canon.

Then, the scene between Alejandro and Courtney happens. Noah scoffs at the display from the side lines, prompting Owen to ask him why he's so against Alejandro's plan.

"I mean, you never said anything before, when he flirted with Bridgette and Leshawna." Owen comments, light-hearted in nature but with an underlying questioning tone.

Noah's eyes flicker with a cobalt glow, easily mistaken for a trick of the light, and he speaks without even thinking.

"Yeah, because I was trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. Bridgette was happenstance, and Leshawna's whole deal could've been a coincidence, or some massive misunderstanding. But this?" Noah extends an accusing hand out towards a smug looking Alejandro, then pans it over to a flattered Courtney, "He's outright toying with Courtney's feelings after she was cheated on in front of an international audience. It's scummy."

Owen nods in understanding, momentary contemplation evident in the pouted curve of his lips, and he chimes in.

"Does that mean you don't like Al?"

"I never said that."

"Well, how do you feel about him, then?"

Again, a flash of blue light against the hickory backdrop of Noah's eyes, and he responds thoughtlessly.

"I guess I have mixed feelings about him. On the one hand, he's slippery, like an eel dipped in grease, swimming in motor oil. He's like if you took all of the worst aspects of Heather, wrapped them up in a pretty package, and gave them social skills..." He holds his hands out before him in a scale-like manner, with the left tipped downwards and tie right raised by his chin. Then, the two hands swap positions.

"And on the other hand, he's brilliant. I've never met anyone as talented as Alejandro; he's smart, he's athletic, he's funny. It's almost unfair just how perfect everything about him is- even his face is perfect. It's ridiculous! Infuriating, even. It's so hard to dislike him, even when I know he's bad news, but that doesn't mean I trust him."

Owen stands slack jawed beside his best friend, both impressed and stunned at the raw honesty of Noah's tirade. Noah, now a little more aware of himself, realises that he's said more than he intended to- more than he thinks he's ever spoken in one go throughout the entirety of Total Drama. He's not usually one for speeches, after all, let alone honest ones.

He's always been the type to play his cards close to his chest, so why...?

"I, uh, didn't mean to go off like that."

And he also didn't mean to admit it, either. What was going on?

The look Owen gives him is, in a word, vivid. The blonde has a shit-eating grin stretching across his face, a sort of elated smugness practically glowing from his features.

"Sounds like someone has a cruuuush!~"

What? No? No! Not at all, where would Owen even get that idea?!

Noah splutters to correct Owen's assumption (to disastrous results, because he does sort-of has a crush on Alejandro, so the truth potion doesn't allow him to outright deny it), and in his preoccupied state he misses how a calculating pair of sage green eyes never seems to stray from him.

Alejandro has a lot to think about in regards to a certain cynic, it seems.

#I'd like to apologise for taking this idea and running with it.#Cutting myself off here before I breach 2k+ words or else I'll be here all day.#Sort of entered actual Writing Mode at the end there instead of Outline Mode but this idea is. So Full Of Potential I couldn't help myself.#But from here it'd basically be Alejandro using his newfound knowledge of Noah's crush on him to his advantage.#Whilst Noah's doing his best (and failing) to deny that he has any feelings for Alejandro.#Eventually leading to the two of them having a Bonding Moment where Alejandro gets Noah to divulge some personal information.#And in turn- or an effort to garner some trust (to be abused later)- Alejandro also lets himself be vulnerable towards Noah.#Something something Alejandro tries to use Noah as a pawn but ends up catching feelings of his own.#Then of course the potion wears off and Noah goes back to being just as prickly and standoffish as he was before.#A point of conflict maybe? Imagine bearing your soul out to someone only for them to close themself off to you not even days afterwards.#...Also imagine being practically forced to divulge information about yourself to someone you don't trust because of a truth potion.#Oh yeah. That's some good angst material right there.#Especially is you have Alejandro be- if not fully aware- than at least suspect that Noah's not being agreeable on his own terms.#Anon why have you given me The Thoughts?? I can't keep brainstorming AUs when I already have fics to work on!!#ophe's ranting in the tags again #total drama #td noah #td alejandro #team chris is really really really really hot #alenoah #-ish #silly ideas #other's ideas #long post #replies #kinda drafty in here (posts from the drafts)

61 notes · View notes

ekat-fandom-blog · 1 year

Text

Dragons and Ghosts prompt

Dragons and ghosts are kind of similar in that some of them can (1) look passably human, (2) be super strong, (3) use magic, (4) take hits better than humans can, (5) heal fast, (6) have obsessions, (7) change forms, (8) have deafening screams/roars, (9) fly, (10) be territorial, (11) use fighting as a form of playing, and (12) probably make attacks come out of their mouths(fire, wind, water, sound...) please note that I used the word can as there are many different types of dragons and ghosts. thank you.

What I'm saying is: Mix Dragon!Batman au with DPxDC.

Danny thinks Batman is a ghost because of multiple of the reasons listed above and tries to reach out with gifts or something as a peace offering. Ghosts don't usually become heroes, so it would be great to meet a few(or one). He doesn't know ghost culture very well, so he probably gets some help. For ghosts it's simple to gain allies, but also extremely difficult. Don't enter another ghost's haunt without permission(unless you plan on fighting them). Gifts in general can be seen as peace offerings unless it's death or obsession related(then it's a courting gift). You can't just show up and wait outside of their haunt to have a chat because it can be seen as you issuing a challenge. If you don't (a)receive an in person gift in return, or (b)an in person meeting with the other ghost in a week, you can try again.

Bruce is unsettled because the scent on the gifts smell weird. He's not the most well versed in magic (just because he's a magical creature, doesn't mean he has to be good at it) but he does know dragon culture. Don't enter someone else's territory without express permission. Gifts have meanings. (If it's shiny, they want something. If it's food, they probably want to be friends/family or to form an alliance. If it's something to add to your hoard and aren't already part of your family, then they are trying to court you. Side note: if you hoard food or shiny things, courting items mostly come in even numbers.) Always, someone is supposed to wait with the gift to explain/negotiate more minor details. Everything is always done on the same day; no waiting, no return gift or searching out the other person/dragon. He assumes a baby dragon found out about him being a dragon and is trying to remember how to contact an unfamiliar dragon. (or if you want bruce/danny: he assumes his potential suitor is unfamiliar with dragon culture and trying to learn)

The cultures overlap, so neither realize that the other isn't the same species, but they're also different enough that they do not understand what's going on.

(feel free to add or disregard anything in this prompt if you want to write something based on this)

#dc x dp au #dc x dp fic idea #dragon!batman #batman is a dragon #dc x dp prompt #yes i am trying to fuel my mythical creature obsession #bruce's hoard is information #and gifts from his family #he keeps all the gifts nicely organized in a box that no one ever sees #he doesn't want his kids to roast him about how sentimental he is #he also doesn't want a single thing to get damaged #that's his drawing of him getting shot by penguin #and he loves it #i should write a separate batman prompt/au for dragon!batman #i don't really wanna #that takes effort that i don't have right now #someone remind me #dc x dp #dp x dc

439 notes · View notes