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laundrybiscuits · 10 months

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Note: this is not a Stancy story.

“Say it,” he bites out. He’s pushing too hard, being too mean, and he doesn’t fucking care. “Say you love me.”

Nancy’s eyes slide off to the side and she—she laughs, like he’s making a joke, but he can see in the way she’s got her arms wrapped around herself that they both know it’s not a joke.

“Steve, come on,” she says.

There’s a hot, buzzing feeling in him like a hurricane.

The words peel out of him: “But…we’re soulmates.”

He’s gripping his forearm, holding it out in front of him even though he’s wearing long sleeves. It doesn’t matter. They both know whose name is written there in careful, neat cursive, like a puzzle piece slotting next to the blockier name scrawled on Nancy’s wrist.

Nancy reaches out to push his arm down and out of the way, out of her eyeline, but she laces her fingers with his like she’s trying to calm him down. Like an apology.

“Steve,” she says. “Let’s just—can we focus on the important stuff, here?”

This is important, why don’t you think that nothing could be more important than this. Steve doesn’t say it because he’s trying to be better. He can be better for her, for Nancy, his soulmate. So he swallows it down and nods, gripping her slender fingers tight in his.

———

It takes him a while, but he figures it out. It’s fate. It’s gotta be. It’s all a big part of their story, the one they’re gonna tell at their wedding, about the time they broke up and made bad decisions and were really unhappy. When you find your soulmate early, sometimes you have some growing up to do, he’ll say. Or maybe Robin will say it. He can’t imagine a wedding where Robin’s not his best man. Best lady?

It’s so stupid, but there was a moment, back in ‘85, when he thought maybe Robin could be his true soulmate. Like maybe there was some giant cosmic error, and the smart, funny, beautiful girl he’d been overlooking all summer was really the one he was meant to end up with after all.

When she tells him about Tammy Thompson, it’s almost a relief. The universe isn’t wrong after all. He actually feels really sorry for Robin, because without a name on her arm, how’s she supposed to know who to pick? And with the gay thing—it’s gotta be tough even just knowing who’s an option. He doesn’t think he could handle that kind of uncertainty.

It’s a good thing he doesn’t have to. All he’s got to do is hang on until his story and Nancy’s story bend together again, and become their story. He thinks it’s kind of romantic, even: like he’s been given this time to learn to be a better boyfriend.

So he’s in good spirits, especially when Eddie Munson gives him a heavy look that shoots through his veins like lightning and says as unambiguous a sign of true love as these cynical eyes have ever seen. If even Eddie can see it after spending about five minutes around them, probably not even knowing about the soulmate thing, it must be true.

———

Afterwards, he finds himself unexpectedly alone with Nancy in the hospital, waiting their turn to see Max and Eddie. It’s not exactly the stuff of fairytales; even though they’ve had a chance to go home and shower and get some sleep, they both have Upside Down gunk caked into their fingernails and purpling shadows under their eyes. The fluorescent lights overhead are way too bright. The flimsy plastic chairs are digging uncomfortably into his thighs.

But he’s not gonna get a better opening than this quiet moment, with Nancy slumped against his arm, tired and lovely.

“Hey, are you—” He clears his throat and tries again. “Hey, Nancy. Did you…think about, uh, what I said? About…you know. The future?”

She goes tense.

“Yes, Steve. I did.”

Maybe something in her tone should be warning him off, but he’s on this road now, careening down the fast lane with no exits in sight.

“And? What did you think?”

Nancy takes a deep breath, then lets it out after a second in a heavy sigh. “Steve, I…I’m with Jonathan now. You know that.”

“Yeah, but that’s—I mean, you know it’s not the same.”

“No.” She slips a thumb under the cuff of her sweatshirt and rubs it over her wrist. It looks like something she doesn’t even know she’s doing. “It’s not the same, no. It’s…Steve, it’s better. This way is better.”

He ducks down, tries to meet her eye. “Nance, I know I was kind of a shitty boyfriend, but—things are different now, right?”

Finally, she turns to him. Her back straightens, shoulders square, like she’s bracing herself.

“Yes, things are different,” she says slowly. She reaches out to take his hand in both of hers, soothing. “This hasn’t changed for me, though. It’s not about—I just can’t be with you, Steve. Not like that. I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t say but we’re soulmates again like a child, but it lives in his throat, in the thump of his heart. Maybe she just needs more time.

Maybe not, though.

(ETA: continuation here!)

#I wrote the first chunk of this a while ago and abandoned it in my scratchpad; had a chat about soulmates today and decided to write more #ofc this whole thing is also a metaphor for heteronormativity (WHEN IS IT NOT) so I may write the steddie follow-up at some point #I’ve never been the biggest fan of soulmate narratives but I find them fascinating from a meta perspective #I want to be clear that I don't think soulmate AUs are ~problematique; they obviously serve a function #the romance genre (and a lot of fic) hinges on the concept of endgame ships #there's a particular kind of comfort in that and I can see how it translates to in-universe predestination #I am personally just more interested in stories about choosing to love without guarantees #and I actually quite like the complexity of Steve and Nancy learning to navigate being friends as well as exes #not!soulmates AU

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eleajay · 16 days

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Pls don’t hate me I’m not pedo irl :’)

Yes I ship charcifer/morningstarcest pls don’t hate me

#hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #lucifer morningstar #hazbin charlie #charlie morningstar #charlotte morningstar #Charcifer #morningstarcest #Charlie x Lucifer #don’t ask why #I got issues #apparently #I wrote a fic for them actually but it’s in Chinese #and I don’t want to bother with translating #well at least I can post pics cause they work no matter the language lol #my art #artwork

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methoughtsphantom · 6 months

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danny phantom fic where everyone gets a glimpse of our ghost boi’s parental figures.

the sheer amount

the protectiveness they have over him

the what the fuck is that the literal master of time type of ghosts he’s managed to befriend

yes that

does it exist??

#i been wanting to read this since forever #i will not write it myself #i can’t positively translate the amount of maladaptive daydreaming I’ve done over this #to a fic #it’s just too hard #and i sense I will end up dissatisfied #anyways #recs then that run along the same lines #danny phantom #danny fenton #clockwork #🥺#i would own my heart to whoever wrote the fuck out of this #i headcannon danny has as much parental figures as Batman has children #in a dp x dc crossover Batman would just be one (1) more to the list

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layraket · 3 months

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Hunters - Creatures Gang

Some hours ago they all ended up running in a group of hylians, normally the ones who are more familiarized with them will make sure to get them away from the rest.

Sadly their luck had other plans.

They suddenly appeared and tried to take down first the bigger ones, Warriors being one of the principal objectives. Hunters? It’s very likely as they are walking through Legend’s era.

Their second main victim for some reason was Hyrule. They all knew that being a fairy is hard just for the fact that they’re small and vulnerable, but he was never a worry when they found themself attacked.

The hylians had tried to keep the fairy of the group inside a bottle, the rest keeping all of them away. If it wasn’t for Sky and using his wings to distract them, Hyrule will be trapped there for who knows what amount of time.

After getting them all away and finally scaring them with one of Wild’s bombs—They all were sure that it wasn’t only to threaten them— The little fairy was already on top of a tree, hidden in some empty nest inside the wood.

This is why he stays away from hylians! He doesn’t understand why some of their group swear that they’re friendly. They don’t understand being hunted just for own benefit your whole life.

“Hyrule! They’re gone! you can get down now!” That was Four, the mouse kept his distance with hylians, but not for the same reasons. Still, he was one of his closest supports.

But, right now? He prefers staying there.

“Rulie! Just get down, we need to keep going!” That was Legend, he was already wondering where the rabbit went when the hunters appeared. “I doubt that Wind will be able to get there without hitting himself with the tree four times.”

He should get down, this wasn’t the big deal. They’re gone and it is not probable that there are more of them waiting for him. But if he gets down they would come back, they were so determinate to keep him in that bottle, maybe-

“I’ll ask Sky to get me up there if you don’t come here!”

“Okay okay! I’ll go” Legend wasn’t fond of getting close to the bigger ones, and he doesn’t want to make him uncomfortable. He flew out of the nest and in a flash of light he was already next to the bunny and the mouse. “We can go now.”

Legend frowned, got closer and put his head lower. “Get on, you can stay here”

The fairy looked at him a little confused, he used to stay on top of his head a lot for low energy, but now he was so much better! He doesn't need this.

“Four can stay with you” Before the mouse said something he pushed him, making him nod in response.

He wasn’t tired, he could fly without problem the next few hours, but if Legend was offering… He flew and sat on top of the rabbit’s head, a little later the mouse getting there for himself.

They got back with the rest of the group, and even where he sat it wasn’t impossible to miss how Legend ignored how all of them saw them. This was a little unusual with their rabbit, but everyone was polite enough to not point it out.

Hyrule grabbed some of the pink fluff, testing if it bothers Legend, and when not seeing a response he just let himself sink in the furr. Four stayed next to him and started chatting with himself and giving random facts to keep the silence away.

The hunters now were the last of the things inside his mind, his wings were less tense than before—When did he tensed them?— and Four’s company is really nice to have now.

The rest of their trip continued without interference and they all got safely to Legend’s home, and Legend had to get help from Wild and Four to take a sleepy fairy off of his head.

---

I told you there was gonna be more of Hyrule!

AU masterpost

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puhpandas · 7 months

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Veering Off Course

(2,305 words)

Gregory and his family get a call that Vanessa, whos in a different state for college, has gotten hurt. Gregory calls Evan, and Evan is able to use the things he's learned about himself since meeting Gregory to help his friend with his emotions regarding the situation.

Its early in the morning on a Saturday when Evan gets the call. It woke him up, so all he does is blink groggily and swipe at the screen blindly while propped up on his elbow until his thumb hits 'answer' on his phone. "Hello?"

"Evan." It's Gregory, and the serious tone to just that single word clears up Evan's brain as fast as lightning. He scrambles to prop himself into sitting up and rubs at his eyes with one hand.

"Gregory?" Evan asks, looking at the little icon he set for Gregory's contact of a picture of Evan and him at an amusement park. "Is everything okay?"

It takes a second for Gregory to respond, and it causes the anxiety that had steadily began to bubble inside of him to surge. "Gregory?"

"Sorry." Gregory finally answers. "I-- Uh... can you..." His friend struggles for words, and Evan tries to be as patient as possible as it becomes clearer every second something is wrong. "Can you come over? Like right now?"

Evan flounders for words for a second, but manages to force his mouth to say, "Of course."

"Okay." Gregory replies, and a surge of worry shoots through his chest when Gregory sounds like he might cry. He takes a breath on the other end, then, "Please hurry."

After that, Evan only lingers enough to respond with a short confirmation and goodbye before hanging up the phone. It takes him record time to shoot out of bed, sling on some shoes, and get down the street a few houses to Gregory's own.

His mind had played multiple awful scenarios of what terrible thing could have happened the entire time, but his worry does not ebb when he makes it to the porch and knocks on the door to a teary eyed Gregory.

Evan's immediately herded inside. Freddy has his phone in his hand pressed up against his ear, and he's pacing around the room. Aunt Chica and Aunt Roxy sit in the living room. Bonnie is sat in a dragged-over dining chair by Freddy and frowning.

It's dead silent in the house; even the TV and seemingly endless energy flowing through and causing bustling noise is snuffed out to nothing. Evan watches as everyone sits completely seriously and quiet, hands held in their lap or thrumming against something.

Impatience, is what Evan first thinks of. They're waiting for something. News, maybe? Freddy is on the phone. It's so silent you could hear a pin drop. Or somebody else's phone vibrate.

Evan's dread and anxiety only get worse when Gregory shuts the door behind him and tugs on him a bit. Evan follows without struggle, thousands of words and questions on his tongue when Gregory leads him to one of the unoccupied seats in the living room; a loveseat.

He sits down with him, and Gregory's face is scrunched up in barely restrained worry. Evan watches his friend, who's been an anchor for himself for so long, tremble and hunch in on himself. "Gregory?"

Gregory's eyes dart to him, and Evan leans down, hunching forward with his elbows rested on his thighs like theyre their own personal bubble. Evan's own brows furrow, and he feels the familiar thickness in his throat just at watching his friend be upset.

Evan grabs at his hand, squeezing it tight and lacing their fingers together. "I'm really worried, Gregory... please tell me whats wrong." Evan pleads. "Please?"

Gregory nods unsurely after a moment, and Evan watches him swallow thickly before turning to him fully. "Dad got a call from the University of Oregon today."

Evan's brows raise, but he nods to keep going. The University of Oregon is the college Gregory's sister, Vanessa, had left home to go attend. Evan hasnt gotten the chance to meet her, yet. She's already been gone two years strong, with a seemingly bright future. Evan's heard Gregory and his family talk about her enough to know her talents.

Gregory's breath hitches, and Evan wraps his other hand around Gregory's, the one he already has ahold of. He sandwiches it in-between his own and hopes it's enough comfort.

"Somebody called us and told us Vanessa got into a car crash today. On campus."

It's like a bucket of ice water is poured on Evan's head. His feet go cold, and his eyes widen to saucers. Fear shoots like an arrow through his stomach. When he stops reeling from the news, he watches Gregory begin to shake and lose the carefully gathered composure he'd put up since Evan arrived.

"They said..." Gregory's brows are furrowed so much it looks like it hurts. Theres a clench in his jaw and a wetness to his eyes Evan isnt used to. "They said she's already been taken to the hospital and is in surgery." He frowns, and theres a twist in his lip that Evan is so familiar with. "They... a-all we can do is wait. They told us they'd let us know any updates."

The house is thrown back into such jarring silence after Gregory stops talking that Evan's ears start ringing. Which makes it clear as day when Gregory's breath turns harsh beside him.

Evan tears his eyes away from the floor and ignores the twisting feeling in his chest to look at his friend. He has his face buried in the hand that isnt held by Evan and is shaking in a way where you can tell theyre trying so hard to keep it together. Gregory's angled away from him, but Evan can see the panic on his face even from where he can see.

Evan's breath hitches, and the thickness in his throat begins to turn into burning as he scootches closer to Gregory on the couch and sets a hand on his shoulder. He tugs a bit until Gregory gets the message and let's him wrap his arms around his middle and hold him close.

Gregory makes some sort of horrible, upsetting hitching noise that causes the dam to break for Evan, before he sort of flops against him and brings up his own arms to clutch at his T-Shirt. Gregory's head thumps against his shoulder, and it's one of the only times Evan really becomes aware of the height he has on his friend.

"Its okay..." Evan says into Gregory's shoulder, because it's all he knows to do in the moment. He glances around and sees that Gregory's family has shifted to the dining room, leaving them alone. Evan finally feels the tears slip from his eyes as he presses closer, hugging him like his life depends on it. "Its okay, Gregory. It'll be okay."

"It's--" Gregory says, and Evan can hear how much his voice shakes with barely contained tears. "Its not. I can't-- We can't even go see her. We can't go and wait for her to wake up, or anything... we just have to--" He cuts himself off, and Evan feels Gregory shake harshly against him.

"We just have to sit here." Gregory says, voice thick. "I dont know what to do, Evan. I don't know what to do."

And its only that sentence that causes Evan to grapple at what to do, if his friend can't. And all he can think about is how himself would react if it were Gregory getting hurt.

All he'd be able to do is cry, he realizes. He wouldnt be able to do anything. Just wait and be scared.

But that's what Gregory is getting at, isnt he? He can't do anything. That's the thing. Evan has known Gregory long enough to get him. To know, him. Evan knows that Gregory doesnt sit around and cry like Evan does. He prefers to get up and do something about whatevers wrong.

Hes a problem solver instead of waiting around. A fighter instead of a crier. No wonder hes so bent out of shape about this. To have a loved one in danger, and when you're so used to getting up and making a plan to fix a problem and are forced to sit in standby...

Evan eases them down against the cushion of the couch, not once untangling themselves from eachother. Gregory shakes, but he does not cry. "So what would you do if you could?"

The hair from Gregory's bangs brushes against Gregory's neck as he moves his head. "I'd... I don't know. I'd at least try to get to her." Gregory says, voice unbelievably quiet. "At least get to her. Then figure it out from there. Just so I'm not waiting on phone calls."

Evan nods against him, his chin scrunching up Gregory's hair. His tears have long since stopped falling, but he knows he has dry tracks on his cheeks. "You have a plan."

Gregory makes some sort of noise that would sound like a snort in any other circumstances. "I would if I could." Gregory replies, squeezing his arms a bit tighter. "But I cant" He sighs, shuddering and heavy. "I just have to wait."

Evan hums. "You're worried, and you're stressed." He makes the same noise Gregory just did. "I know how you feel... I really do. Maybe not your exact situation, but... I get what it's like to feel helpless." He says. "You know what I would do?"

Gregory hums this time, questionative. Evan rubs circles into his back. "I'd sit there and wait, and wish for it to different. And when it wouldnt be, I'd cry."

Gregorys head shifts against that crook between Evan's chin and chest, almost like hes trying to look him in the eye but the hug prevents him from being able.

"All I ever did was cry." Evan says when Gregory doesnt respond. "Its the only thing that I could do to cope."

"...So..." Gregory asks, and his voice is thick again. "You mean..."

"You're stressed." Evan answers. "You're stressed and you're worried. So... why dont you let it out?"

Evan, out of anyone, knows how valuable emotions can be. He didnt, once upon a time. When everyone would just tell him how annoying it is. How useless it is. How he's asking for it. How he should have toughened up by now. When instead of comfort, he'd receive ridicule and prodding.

That's changed. Ever since a certain someone entered his life. He doesn't think of his emotions, himself so little anymore. So worthless. So maybe that's why Gregory perks up ever so slightly in understanding.

And that's all it takes.

Gregory's trembling turns into shoulder shaking sobs like the snap of a finger. He cries, open and unadulterated, and Evan just hugs him close and rubs his back, offering reassurances like Gregory has done for him so many times.

His own eyes burn when his best friends sobs are heard so openly and he can feel every shudder of his body. Evan's chin scrunches, and the tears fall right along with Gregory as Evan hugs him close, tucking his face into his hair.

"Im--" Gregory cries. "I-Im just so worried about her."

"I know." Evan responds, his own voice breaking as he pets Gregory's hair. His shirt is damp with tears but he doesnt care. "Itll be okay. It'll all be okay."

They stay like that for a while, and Evan can tell Gregory needs it. He needs it. The worry he felt that morning doesnt ever really leave, and it stays ever-present as Evan watches his friend fall apart. They stay stuck together like magnets, eventually only shoulder to shoulder with linked hands on the loveseat, and none of Gregory's family try to peel them apart when they eventually wander back into the living room.

They stay in a state of constant agonizing limbo all day. At 8:00pm, Freddy calls it a night. Gregory protests immediately, but Aunt Roxy calms him down almost seamlessly and convinces him to go to bed.

Of course, Evan follows him. He cant imagine a world where he doesnt. The air mattress stays deflated in Gregory's closet as it has been most of the time nowadays. All Evan has to do is kick his shoes off since he left home in his pajamas anyway and they're wrapped around eachother, tucked in Gregory's bed under his comforter in the dark.

Gregory is silent all throughout the night, even though Evan knows he's awake. Evan just hopes that... he did the right thing. Something knows is that suppressing how you feel isnt good. It never works. No matter how much you want it to.

Gregory taught him that. He just wants to return the favor. Not because he owes Gregory, no. Gregory has long since hammered it into Evan's thick skull that he has nothing to pay him back for. That his kindness is not a deed to Evan, but rather that Evan himself deserves to be treated kindly.

Gregory does, too. Evan knows this with all his heart. Gregory is his best friend and has done more for him than anyone else ever has.

Evan... all Evan did was change. Change for the better. And hopefully he helped the most important person in his life with the things he learned. The things that person taught him.

He hugs Gregory's middle a little tighter, not daring to break the silence. Gregory needs time, but doesn't want to be alone. Evan understands. He does. He just hopes to convey what he truly feels through the one action.

Thank you. I'm here for you. I'll always be here. You're my best friend. I'm so glad you trust me. I trust you as well. So much.

Gregory himself wraps his arms tighter around Evan in turn, and Evan feels like the single movement lso has a deeper meaning he cant read.

They dont speak. They just lay in silence until eventually they fall asleep, stuck together like two puzzle pieces.

ao3 link

#this oneshot is mostly just to focus more on gregorys character and how i imagine him (not headcanon #his actual canon character) to handle problems.#ive always seen gregory as instead of letting fear/emotions take over #he pushes past to get a task done/fix whatevers wrong. so i wanted to translate that into the flashlight duo universe with the emotional/pr #especially because of how important emotions are to evans growth and how gregory is the reason for that growth #and i also just wanted to finally write a bit of evan helping gregory since ive written so much vice versa.#i needed something for gregory to be super worried over and well. this universe is already family centric. poor vanessa.#its a normal ass world okay theres not much i can do #vanessa is okay btw.#the next day theyre supposed to get news about surgery and recovery and plan to go on a road trip to oregon to see her while she recovers #(i actually already wrote some of it but cut it out because i didnt like where it was going.#just veered (ha) too far away from the core of the fic)#so you can imagine that happening.#anyways hope you enjoyed! still need a better idea to showcase evan helping gregory but i think this is okay for now.#i have some other plans for this duo (as always) having to do with love languages so im excited about that.#lets see how long itll take me to actually write it lol #pandas writes #my fics #flashlight duo #flashlight duo oneshots #gregory #evan #the fazbears #oneshot #kinda feel like this is cringe #but whatever im cringe and im free two cakes etc #not my favorite work ive done but whatever #its okay

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rafyki · 4 months

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You know, I wrote some very very good Percico fics back in the day, and I kinda want to translate them to English and post them on AO3

#percico #percy jackson #pjo #my posts #theyre very old and i still wrote in italian back then #youd think id consider them horrible now #but i just reread one and its actually very good #i actually have reread it more than once dhring the past years #bc i havent stopped loveing this ship and sometimes thought lf it #and this one fic in particolar helped me cope with a the feels i had #and that i now have again :')#so yeah i kinda wanna translate it and post it on ao3 #maybe even the other ones bc theres something else thats also good enough #idk

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songofsunset · 2 months

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Me: hmmm...... I feel like I've read most of the good one piece fic in the tags I'm interested in........... I've gone through three times with lowering standards how can I find some more to read?

Me: ........

Me: -sets filter language to Spanish-

So far the main revelation is that Whitebeard is Barbablanca which is the best thing I've ever heard

#lori chat #can i finagle the one piece fixation into improving my vocabulary????? maybe lmao #bless this author for being like 'hey i specifically wrote this fic so it would google translate easily please give it a chance-#-but also i aint translating it into english' bless u friend i will read about your mermaid shenanigans

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lewmagoo · 15 days

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when i tell you being free of my miserable job has suddenly awakened the creative part of my brain again! there is hope y'all! your creativity is not lost, it's just lying dormant right now!

#maybe i'll have multiple fics up this week! who's to say!#i remember that this time last year i wrote some of my best work #so i'm hoping it will translate into this year too

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honeyynymphh · 2 years

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alright, I couldn't stop thinking about this so I just quickly wrote something out. you can imagine it as whichever Papa you prefer listening to Papa read excerpts from an old text while you lie in his lap it is written with a fem!reader in mind no warnings 600 words

Shifting on your side, you let out a contented sigh. The flames in the grate twist as you watch them, hypnotising you as they dance. The room is softly quiet, the popping of the logs and tick of the old clock helping to lull you into that blissful daze. Your head is in Papa’s lap, his soft voice the only other sound as he reads through an old Satanic text he found in the library just before Unholy Mass this evening. He’s still in his vestments, the slide of cool silk against your cheek is heaven while his free hand idly plays with your hair.

"'Annon in luce stamus ut umbras nostras eiciamus?'" Papa says, and you feel the vibration of his words against your back as he speaks.

As he has been reading passages out to you, he occasionally leans over to the little side table to take notes for his next sermon. You’ve barely registered a word he has said, too busy staring into the fire and basking in the feel of his steady breaths as he speaks. You didn't care if he decided to read the phonebook to you, as long as he kept speaking in that same low tone you would listen to him read just about anything.

“Yes, Papa.”

Your words are whispered and full of sleep. Perhaps you should have paid more attention during your Latin lessons but you feel him nod. So far you haven’t been wrong in your responses.

“Brava.”

You smile and rub your cheek against him, trying to bury in deeper. He smells delightful; the incense used during Mass clings to him along with the heady smoke of the fire. But this close you can smell what can only be described as him and that makes you feel more comfort than anything else. It smells like home.

“'Lumen gubernat sed non docet nos sentire. In tenebris confidere debemus aliis sensibus nostris. Oculos nostros in tenebris relinquimus, ut viam nostram clarius sentiamus et veritatem obcaeatam videamus.'” He pauses, hand running down the nape of your neck and making you shiver. “What do you think, dolce?”

Your eyes are closed now, too busy enjoying the feel of him around you. His low voice is lulling you to sleep and so you merely hum noncommittally as his fingers return to your hair.

“You are meant to be helping your Papa,” he admonishes gently. “Instead you are…” His thumb idly traces the soft patch of skin behind your ear and you sigh in pleasure.”...comportandosi come un gatto!”

Papa shifts beneath you as you hear him close the book and place it on the little side table. One hand is still in your hair and the other comes to gently rest on your hip, his fingers idly fidgeting with the fabric of your habit.

"It is not written that 'Dominus tenebrosus dabit voluptatem petentibus', sorella?" You nuzzle against him, too content to notice the teasing edge to his voice. "I think you have not been paying attention during your studies, dolce"

"No, sorry, Papa." A smile pulls at your lips as you shake your head. His hands are still aimlessly tracing patterns against you, though the hand at your hip has since snuck under the hem of your dress to tickle the back of your thigh. ”Latin is very difficult, my tongue has trouble with pronouncing the words.”

“Hmm.” He gets you to sit up, dragging you into his lap and pushing your mussed hair out of your face. Those mismatched eyes regarding you with a smile. “Perhaps you need a private lesson with Papa, si? I can help with wrangling your tongue, sorella.”

------ am feeling some type of way. Annon in luce stamus ut umbras nostras eiciamus - Do we not stand in the light so that we may cast our own shadows? Lumen gubernat sed non docet nos sentire. In tenebris confidere debemus aliis sensibus nostris. Oculos nostros in tenebris relinquimus, ut viam nostram clarius sentiamus et veritatem obcaeatam videamus - The light is guiding but it does not teach us how to feel. In the darkness we must trust in our other senses. We leave our eyes in darkness so that we can feel our way more clearly and see the truth unblinded comportandosi come un gatto! - behaving like a cat! Dominus tenebrosus dabit voluptatem petentibus - The dark lord will give pleasure to those who ask

#soft #ish #definitely soft for me lmao #it can be any papa but I wrote it with Copia in mind #because that is where my brain is right now #the band ghost fic #fanfic #papa x reader #papa i x reader #papa ii x reader #papa iii x reader #papa iv x reader #i used google translate so like pls dont @ me with the latin or italian #drabble #my-writing

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kelp-my-beloved · 1 year

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"Milo?" A voice calls him from behind. Without turning back, he watches the otters, who had until then been very busy cleaning a few pieces of fish in front of him, run into the water. The splash had barely gotten him when they had swam out of sight.

For a moment, the footsteps are the only thing that can be heard through the forest, until the person sits next to him.

"Scott is worried," Cleo let's him know.

They reach a hand towards him, as if to grasp his shoulder, but seems to think better of it, and let's it fall on the grass between them. The green of the weeds mixes with the one of her hand. For some reason, it's the only thing Milo can focus on.

It had taken him days to find a place free of Scott's corrupted magic hadn't touched yet. Even though he was nowhere near close to be able to call himself an expert on the matter, Milo knew that by tomorrow, the area would have taken the familiar browns and blacks that surrounded his new home.

"When isn't he?" He finally answers.

It was the only nook that didn't seem to have changed since he died. But Milo had found it, and by doing so, destroyed it.

"Does he have a reason to worry?"

The question wasn't going to be answered, they both knew that. With a sigh, Milo gets up.

"We should head back," he says, and they pretend the evasion didn't mean anything.

Scott was always there when he looked for him. The witch gave him space, and respected his times, but somehow he seemed to know when Milo needed him, because he only needs to call his name to have him in front of him. At his disposal.

Not even in his dreams is he absent.

(Milo tries his hardest not to think about all the times Scott must have called for him, knowing he had no way of answering)

"Scott?" Milo screams as hard as he can from the kitchen.

Which isn't a lot, so to say. Since he came back, his voice barely raises above a whisper. Scott assures him it's something temporal, a side effect of having died, that any moment now he would be back speaking normally, and Milo doesn't tell him about the relief that it's having some sort of proof that it wasn't all part of his imagination. That he had really come back from the dead, and that it had left a mark on him.

There are things that are best kept secret.

"Here," the witch says with a smile nothing alike to what his husband had once been.

Milo asks him where he keeps the sugar, and adds a couple of spoons to the dough when he gets him the can.

Scott asks him what he's cooking, and smiles with the answer. Milo pretends not to notice the enthusiasm in his voice.

It was the first time he had taken the time to cook something by his own initiative since he had come back. What it was, wasn't really important. The witch didn't eat anymore, and Milo did only when he couldn't keep refusing his husband's insistence that he ate something. Even now, with the dough between his hands, he could feel his throat closing up in protest, as if it hadn't yet accepted that they were alive once more, leaving their state of corpse behind, and needed to feed again.

With a sigh, Milo leaves the dough aside, and crouches down to heat the oven.

Eloise is the only one who seems to act normally around the fact that Milo had literally come back from the dead, which translates into side eye glances and a constant worry for the mental health of everyone involved. That's why, Milo guesses, Scott does everything in his power to keep her away from him. As if stopping pretending everything was fine would be the thing that finally broke him, and not the fact that he shouldn't be breathing.

As if his husband hadn't given up his body, soul, and who knows what else in order to wake him up. To have him again at his side.

Eloise, Scott, and Cleo were the only people he had seen since he had come back. Those first days were... hazy at best, but Milo doesn't press, or ask about the time missed. He knows, by the way the Ilusionist Witch's face changes when she thinks about it that it wasn't a pretty process.

That's how useful her presence is to him. El, as she insists to be called, is a drop of normality in the desert Scott had carefully built around him, making sure to pad any corner that might hurt him. The witch makes sure not to bring up any topic that might make him uncomfortable, doesn't mind any detail that might remind him of the time that's blank on his mind, to the point that Milo thinks he's going to go mad.

It's not that he's unhappy, or that he wishes that Scott had never brought him back. Milo is too selfish to admit that the price he payed was too high, or that he crossed lines that should have never been touched.

Maybe there was nobody else out there. Maybe the last piece of green in the forest had died when Cleo found him, and maybe his husband had really sacrificed the world to have him back, but the more days passed, the less he found himself caring.

As long as he didn't ask, he couldn't be sure. He could pretend that everything was fine in their little cabin in the middle of the woods, and he could imagine that they were happy

#this is a translation of a thing i wrote yesterday #its also going to ao3 as soon as i get home #anyways. au where milo comes back and things are Fucked Up #witchcraft smp #wc smp #smajor #zombiecleo #wc!milo #soupforeloise #my fics

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tongjingnian · 7 months

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After Sam had a child, he went to Dean's cenotaph to drink with him (although he had been reluctant to give his brother a hunter's funeral for a long time, in the end, he gave in and let him go).

He got drunk at some point and started crying, regretting that he hadn't preserved Dean's body. He wanted to tear up his brother's grave, dig his brother's corpse out, and resurrect it, even though there was nothing in it. He thought about it and then actually started digging but eventually fell asleep because he was so tired and couldn't sleep well the whole time without Dean.

He started dreaming. They were back in their twenties, hunting demons - "just you and me against the world." There were no angels or demons, only the two of them driving the Impala down the street on an endless road trip on the burning asphalt road in the summer.

Then Dean died. Sam couldn't revive him. He woke up in a panic in the bunker and ran to his brother's room to check if he was still in one piece. Dean woke up to the sound of the door opening and asked Sammy what was wrong. Sam said that he dreamed that Dean was dead, then Dean assured him that it was not true and asked Sam to get into his bed and sleep with him. They ended up in the spoon position.

Sam fell asleep peacefully, and when he opened his eyes, it turned out that he had been sleeping, leaning on his brother's grave for a long time. He could still feel the dried tears on his face. But it was more like he had a sweet dream than lost the one he loved so deeply that it hurt because he hadn't been able to sleep deeply for a lifetime. Except for his stiff neck and aching waist from sleeping crookedly, it was all perfect. A year after Dean died, Sam rarely dreamed of his brother, so it was nice to be able to see him again no matter what.

Then he stood up and filled the hole he had dug yesterday with his feet because his hands were bleeding from digging. He didn't want the soil to look dirty from the blood (he's impure, he has to be) when refilling it. He patted Dean's tomb twice, looked at it for a while, then turned around and drove away.

Prompt: I dreamed that my lover was dead and cried to the point of breaking my heart. Then I woke up and found that it was just a dream. I lay on the bed, being patted on the back by my lover to comfort me. I shrank into his arms and held him while crying for a long time. Inexplicably, I felt that his body temperature was getting colder. When I opened my eyes, I realized that I had fallen asleep holding my lover's tombstone.

I'm bored cuz I'm on a trip but it's raining heavily outside, then I recall I wrote this thing yesterday and my friend literally cried over this so I decide to translate it into English and share it with you😉 bear with me if there are grammar errors, already run through grammarly but i doubt it's completely correct

& here's the original version i put on my sms if you wanna know:

#supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #wincest #established wincest #established relationship #spn 15x20 #post 1520 #carry on #not actually a fic i guess #just brief description #but i enjoy it #😉😉😉#i wrote so many of these things in Chinese #i think i need to translate them ALL #i promise all of them are interesting

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dkniade · 11 months

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Characters: Zhongli, Traveler (unspecified), Paimon

Warnings: Generally fluffy. Paimon is unknowingly a bit transphobic at one point but she apologizes in the end. Zhongli connects gods/religion to gender (in an inclusive light) as an ex-Archon.

Notes: Chinese dialogue/script with English translation. For clarification, please see translation notes at the end on pronouns in Chinese.

钟离性别认同(非公式设定)

钟离：如果指的是「性别」的话… 便称呼我为ta。

旅行者：Ta？请问指的是男性还是女性的…唔，难道，钟离先生是中性…？

钟离：「男」…「女」…「中」性指的是…？

派蒙：咦？难道钟离先生不知道男性女性是什么意思吗？

钟离：是否为一种「契约」？

派蒙：咦？这个… 喂，帮帮我呀，旅行者！

旅行者：「契约」…可以说「性别认同」是「与自己定下的契约」… 对吧…？？

钟离：嗯？

旅行者：觉得自己是男或者女…X性别…唔，等等——

钟离：你已经知道「岩王帝君」拥有人形与龙形。神灵，人类…我只是想知道作为「人」是什么意思。

旅行者：哈哈，好吧。钟离先生就是钟离先生。

派蒙：这不就是简单了嘛！呵呵。

旅行者：性别这种事可是很复杂的哦，派蒙。

派蒙：为… 为什么用那种「眼神」看我…？

钟离：「眼神」…虽然我还是不太了解「性别」之事…可是仙家与人类双方都活在众神与他人的「眼神」之下。是神是人，是男是女…每个人都拥有，嗯，「权利」与自己定下「身份的契约」。呵…那位风色诗人或许会这样说吧…嗯？旅行者，你听到这，又为何流泪呢？

旅行者：没，没什么。只是…有点感动。钟离先生…说的好。

派蒙：呜…当着你的面说出那种话真是对不起，钟离先生…以后说话之前我会好好想一想的…

Zhongli’s Gender Identity (Headcanon)

English Translation

Zhongli: If you mean “gender” then… Please refer to me with the pronouns “ta”.*

Traveler: “Ta”? May I ask if you mean the male or female… Wait, unless, you mean the gender-neutral one, Zhongli-xiansheng?

Zhongli: “Male”… “Female”… “Gender-neutral”..?

Paimon: Wha? Do you not understand the concepts of male and female, Zhongli-xiansheng?

Zhongli: Is it perhaps a type of “contract”?

Paimon: Wha? Uhh… Hey, help Paimon out here, Traveler!

Traveler: “Contract”… I guess you can say “gender identity” is “a contract with yourself”… I think…??

Zhongli: Hm?

Traveler: Feeling like you’re male or female… non-binary… Uh, wait, I mean—

Zhongli: As you already know, Yanwang Dijun processes both a human form and a dragon form. Concepts such as gods or humankind… I merely wish to know what it means to be a “mortal”.

Traveler: Haha, alright then. Zhongli-xiansheng is just Zhongli-xiansheng.

Paimon: See! Now that’s easier to understand! Hehe.

Traveler: You know, gender identity is actually a really complicated concept, Paimon.

Paimon: Wha… What’s with that look in your eye…?**

Zhongli: A “look” in one’s “eye”… I’ve yet to understand the concept of “gender”… However, Adepti and humans both live under the “eyes” of the gods and others. Deity or mortal, male or female… Everyone has the, ahem, “freedom” to sign “a contract of identity” with themselves.*** Heh… Perhaps this is how that Windborne Bard would put it… Hm? And why do you shed tears at this, Traveler?

Traveler: It… It’s nothing. I’m just… kind of touched. That was a wonderful speech, Zhongli-xiansheng…

Paimon: Oh… Paimon’s very sorry for saying that to your face, Zhongli-xiansheng… Paimon will think before she speaks from here on…

Translation Notes

*他/她/它 — Mandarin Chinese equivalents of the English he/she/it pronouns all have the same pronunciation of “ta1”.

In my experience, “ta” (written using English letters) is commonly used as a third-person gender-neutral pronoun in Chinese.

(Less common is x也, which uses the character on the left found in 他/她 but replaces the gendered radical on the left with the neutral x).

Since in spoken Mandarin Chinese, the three listed pronouns are all pronounced the same, Zhongli and the Traveler have a little misunderstanding.

**There’s a significant wordplay in Chinese that’s difficult to convey in translation.

In the Chinese line, Paimon uses the term 眼神 in “为… 为什么用那种「眼神」看我…？” This is translated to “What’s with that look in your eye…?”

The term is made up of the hanzi characters for “eye” and “god” (the same characters in the Chinese term for a Vision, 神之眼, literally “Eye of God”).

Zhongli also uses 眼神 in the line “「眼神」… 可是仙家与人类双方都活在众神与他人的「眼神」之下” . This is translated to “A “look” in one’s “eye” … However, Adepti and humans both live under the “eyes” of the gods and others.”

Previously I had tried translating it to “Why… Why are you looking at Paimon like that?” and “‘Looking’ at someone … However, Adepti and humans both live under the ‘eyes’ of the gods and others” but the wordplay didn’t work very well.

***In the original Chinese line, Zhongli says “每个人都拥有，嗯，「权利」与自己定下「身份的契约」。” 权利 refers to a “right” (to define one’s own identity, in this context), but Zhongli uses it to mean “freedom”, which he recognizes is Venti’s ideal as an Archon. This is why he hesitates to use it, and also why he indirectly refers to Venti (“that Windborne Bard”) immediately after.

#dusk fan writing #zhongli #traveler #paimon #genshin impact #headcanon #原神 #钟离 #旅行者 #派蒙 #fan fiction #genshin fic #genshin translation #(hm. even though I wrote this myself...)

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