#heather writes
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You and Me
pairing: Jake Seresin x fem! reader
word count: 0.7k
note: this is a little blurb I’ve had in my drafts forever and I wanted to get it published. I firmly believe Jake says says “give me some sugar” when he wants a kiss and you will not change my mind.
•••
You let out a huff, swirling the ice cubes in your drink around with the plastic straw. With your head in your hand, you watch as Jake celebrates his latest pool victory with his friends. He wasn’t ignoring you on purpose, but he was so wrapped up in the energy of his friends that he had yet to realize you weren’t feeling the same.
After Coyote slaps him on the back, Jake spins around to face you. He looks over to you expectantly, hoping to see you smiling at him, but instead notices the downturn of your lips as you stare down at your drink. Jake excuses himself from his friends before approaching you.
“What's wrong, darlin?” He slides into the booth beside you, throwing an arm around your slumped shoulders.
“Nothing.” You force a smile, not wanting to ruin his fun with your sour mood. Jake cocks his head to the side giving you a knowing look. There is no use lying to him. He has always been able to see right through you.
You sigh in defeat. “I thought tonight would just be us. I love your friends, but we’re with them so much and I miss spending time alone with you.”
“Why didn’t you say something earlier?” His tone is soft, not accusing.
“I didn’t want to sound needy.” You peer down at your drink again, pretending to be interested in the condensation running down this side so you don’t have to look your boyfriend in the eye.
You’re terrified of Jake suddenly deciding that you’re too high maintenance. Maybe he wants a girlfriend who’s more go-with-the-flow and less clingy. Jake is a boisterous and extroverted person, why would he ever want to be with someone who was the exact opposite?
Jake recognizes that look on your face. The one you make when your order comes out wrong but you eat it anyway because you don’t want to be a bother. The one you wear when someone suddenly starts talking over you because they either didn’t realize you were speaking or they just didn’t care. Jake hates that look, hates that you feel like you’re not good enough to take up space.
“There’s no one else I would rather spend time with than you, darlin’. You can always tell me what you’re feeling, you don’t have to hide from me or feel embarrassed.”
“You’re so good to me, Jake. I’m not used to my feelings being considered.”
“Your feelings deserve to be treated with respect and I love you, I always want you to be comfortable.”
“I love you too.”
“Gimme some sugar.” Jake leans in, his lips searching for yours.
“Not here.” You duck away from him, looking around at the crowded bar.
“No one’s looking. They’re all too focused on themselves. C’mon, I missed you too, darling.” Jake whispers reassuringly as he presses kisses to the side of your face.
You take another quick look around the bar before deciding that he’s right. You lean into Jake’s side and press your glossed lips against his.
When you pull away, Jake licks his lips trying to savor the taste of you. “Mm, cherry. My favorite.”
“You’re not supposed to lick it off, weirdo.” You laugh and give your boyfriend a playful shove.
“Let’s get out of here. There’s a carton of ice cream back home with our names written all over it and I may have finally caved and subscribed to Disney Plus.”
Jake wraps his arm around your waist and tucks you against his side. After saying goodbye to his friends, he leads you out into the parking lot, his body warming you against the cool breeze from the ocean.
The two of you spend the remainder of the night curled up in bed sharing the tub of ice cream while your favorite movie plays. Jake makes sure you know just how much he cherishes his time with you. Being alone with just him refills your energy just the way you were hoping it would and you fall asleep feeling even more in love with your man.
#heather writes#jake seresin x reader#jake hangman seresin x reader#jake seresin fanfic#jake hangman seresin fanfic#jake seresin fluff#hangman x reader#jake hangman seresin
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Ohmygosh I did it. I finally finished a chapter.
So maybe I'll finally post a new chapter on "Walk Me Home" within the week!!
#heather writes#walk me home fic#january has been the worst honestly#hopefully things are looking up#february is the month for indulging in my favourite things and my OTPs <3#i hope people are still interested!#i hate unexpected hiatuses#anyway gonna sit on the chapter and edit/etc before posting#but anyway be proud of me!
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Flying Free
AO3 | FFN
Summary: NiGHTS has finally escaped Wizeman's grasp. Now they just need to find somewhere to stay.
A/N: Written for the NiGHTS: Journey of Dreams 15th Anniversary Fanzine.
NiGHTS approached the fountain in the middle of the forest, unable to stop themself from looking over their shoulder for signs that they were followed.
Running away from Reala, from Wizeman, from everything and everyone they had ever known, it had been something even just weeks ago they’d have never been able to imagine. It hurt of course, running from your family always would. But without the pressure to steal Ideya, to terrorize the children who found their way in the realm of Nightmare, they felt an unfamiliar lightness in their heart. They felt free.
A laugh bubbled up from within NiGHTS as they began looping in the sky, reveling in the feeling of joy for the first time since they’d been given their task. “I never have to go back.”
“Well, I hope that means you’re not making your home here then.” The sound of a voice behind them stopped NiGHTS’s victory celebration. They turned around, seeing an unfamiliar brown owl. He was an odd sight, nothing like the denizens of Nightmare that they had spent their entire life with. “Nightmarens aren’t welcome on this side of the world of dreams.”
NiGHTS flew down towards the owl, getting close to his face as they examined him with interest. “What is the meaning of this!?” the owl asked, flapping his wings in front of him to move backwards so as to put some space between himself and them.
NiGHTS pulled back. “Sorry, I’ve just never seen anything like you before.”
The owl frowned, but seemed relieved that NiGHTS pulled back. “Let’s hope you don’t, your presence here is a danger to all the Nightopians who call this place home.”
NiGHTS didn’t think they were a danger; they were pretty sure their decision to betray Wizeman would’ve made that clear. Then again, the owl probably didn’t realize that. “I’m NiGHTS. What about you?”
“What?” the owl seemed taken aback, so NiGHTS tried again.
“Your name, if we’re going to become friends, it’s only right that I have something to call you, right?” They stuck out their hand, hoping the owl might take it as a peace offering, and a step towards friendship.
Instead, the owl was incensed. “I don’t know what game you’re trying to play, Nightmaren, but it won’t work on me. I won’t let you try anything foolish.”
“I’m not trying to play anything.” NiGHTS insisted. “I’m really not here to hurt anybody. I don’t understand why you can’t believe that.”
“Why I can’t believe that?” the owl scoffed. “I’ve seen hundreds of visitors come here, their Ideya stolen from them by Nightmarens who love nothing more than to terrorize the Nightopians who try to find a safe haven here. Why should I believe you when you say you’re different, when you wear the mask that marks you as one of Wizeman’s goons.”
NiGHTS stopped, unsure what to say of that as they reached towards their face, feeling the heavy weight of the mask. They had forgotten all about their Persona in their desperation to escape, but now that they heard the owl point it out, they understood his wariness. There was no reason for him to believe that they were any different from any other Nightmaren when they still wore the pledge to their former master on their face.
They grabbed the corners of the Persona, gently removing it as they looked at the ornate golden design. Their fingers lightly traced around the large red gem in the center. This mask had defined their identity for so long, and now they were considering getting rid of it after so long. “I had forgotten I was wearing it, I didn’t mean to cause you any worries.”
“You forgot?” The owl remained skeptical, but NiGHTS was not one to be deterred.
They nodded in response. “I was trying to escape from them.”
“Why would a first level Nightmaren be trying to escape from other Nightmarens?”
So their true nature wasn’t as easily hidden as they’d assumed, that was good to know. “Because I don’t want to chase down Visitors for their Ideya anymore. We can’t help what we’re created as, but that doesn’t mean it has to define our actions.” NiGHTS was a Nightmaren, created by Wizeman, but it didn’t mean they had to steal Ideya, not if they didn’t want to. Not if it wasn’t who they wanted to be. “I was tired of hurting people, so I decided to leave.”
“Wizeman doesn’t take betrayal lightly,” the owl noted. “You’ll never be able to return to the life you once had.”
“I know. I knew the moment I left that things wouldn’t be the same.” They could still picture Reala’s expression as they’d told him that they were planning on leaving, that they couldn’t stand stealing Ideya and being under Wizeman’s thumb. They could still feel the chains that Wizeman had tried to throw them in when they’d left, the phantoms of shackles they’d only just managed to avoid.
Wizeman would never let them be free if he had anything to say about it, and they weren’t about to let him take them back either.
They looked at the owl, remembering their determination to escape. “But I would rather be on the run the rest of my life than spend another day as Wizeman’s tool.”
The owl finally relaxed, their conviction convincing him of their intentions at long last. “I’m glad to hear it.”
“Does that mean I can stay?” NiGHTS asked, perking up.
The owl chuckled. “Against my better judgment, yes. The Dream Gate is perhaps the only place that Wizeman and his Nightmarens have yet to truly ever invade. It might be the only place that you’ll ever be safe.”
NiGHTS doubted that, but said nothing, choosing to go along with it if it meant the owl was comfortable with their presence. “I’ll be on my best behavior.”
“I would expect nothing less. One action against the Nightopians who spend their time here, or the visitors for that matter, and I’ll be sure that you never set foot here again.”
NiGHTS smiled. That would be an easy task, they were tired of hurting others, and had no intention to do so again. “I’ll even help you protect them.”
“When another visitor comes through, I’ll hold you to that.” The owl extended a wing. “I believe you asked for my name earlier. It’s Owl.”
“Owl.” NiGHTS grabbed Owl’s wing and shook it. “It’s nice to meet you, Owl.”
Owl ended the handshake first with a hoot. “Now, NiGHTS, was it? If you want to settle in at the Dream Gate, you’d best follow along. There’s not a lot to see, but it’s important that when a Visitor arrives, you don’t get lost. Not if you’re going to help them.”
“I’ve got it!” NiGHTS held back a laugh. They would try their best to make a good impression on any Visitors that showed up, but it was still odd. A Nightmaren doing their best to avoid scaring the Visitors they’d meet while trying to impress them, what a novelty.
A Nightmaren defecting from Wizeman. That was a novelty as well.
“Oh, and one more thing. I’d get rid of that mask as well. Anything that marks you as one of Wizeman’s soldiers would never go over well among the Nightopians. Not if you want them to stop fearing you.”
“Right, of course.” NiGHTS looked at the Persona in their hand. It would be easy to just throw it away, to pretend that they had never been a part of Wizeman’s army, to give up that final part tying them to their past.
But that was the problem, in a way. It wasn’t just a mask tying them to Wizeman, it was a mask tying them to the other Nightmarens, to the ones they had considered friends and family, like Jackle and Reala. Getting rid of it would acknowledge that there would be no going back, though they weren’t sure there would be an option to go back regardless. Even if Reala managed to help them escape punishment, there was only one path left for NiGHTS: the one that would allow for Wizeman’s defeat at once, to free the Night Dimension and all Visitors from his grasp.
That was something to contend with another day. They returned the mask to their pocket and smiled. “Sorry for the hold up, let’s go!”
One day, NiGHTS would be willing to give up their Persona for good, to separate themself once and for all.
But for now, that didn’t matter.
Right now, they’d made their first non-Nightmaren friend, and for once, their future looked bright.
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Scrapbook 2024 | February
Fuck Tumblr's absolute bullshit new formatting. I used to be able to get three-four months out of this before I hit the limit, now I get one. Seriously. Fuck them.
Anyway, for anyone that’s new to this, this is how I keep track of all of the things that I enjoy and/or create throughout the year. I have literally been doing this since I had a livejournal.
It’s a nice little snippet of my life and helps to organize my brain.
A reminder:
Normal font - Indifferent/Neutral
Italicized font - Enjoyed
bold font - Loved
with an asterisk* - All time favorite
(bracketed titles) - Re-watches/Re-reads
strikethough - Disliked
Goals are: read 70 books and write at least 50k of original content.
Past Years
MOVIES
(The Breakfast Club)
(Pacific Rim)
(Dune)
TV SHOWS
Percy Jackson & the Olympians
Avatar: TLA
(X-Files, s1)
Hazbin Hotel
Helluva Boss
YOUTUBE CHANNELS
Watcher: Top Five Beatdown
Try Guys? Eats Disney?
Beryl
BOOKS
System Collapse by Martha Wells
Divine Rivals by Rebecca Ross [Fin]
PODCASTS
Watcher Podcast
VIDEO GAMES
Stardew Valley: Dipper
POSTED FIC
you can have my isolation | Stranger Things | Steve/Eddie | 4,618 words | “Pretty sure that I owe you a blowjob,” Eddie says flatly, eying Steve over the smoldering end of his cigarette.
baby, is he good to you? | Stranger Things | Steve/Eddie | 9,106 words | “I don’t—” Steve sputters, setting his food aside before she jumps him. “Christ, Robin. I didn’t— I don’t have a thing for him!”
WIPS | UNPUBLISHED | ORIGINAL
February
486 words of Steddie singing neighbor meet cute
4336 words of Dead Girl Walking
1362 words of Steddie Tattoo AU
587 words of Breakfast Club AU
Fanmixes/Spotify Playlists/Graphics
February
steddie feelz: what it says on the tin
eddissy feelz: also what it says on the tin
rage mallgoth monday morning
eerie post-apocalyptic night
DELIGHTFUL FIC
February
paradise by the dashboard light. by oaseas | Stranger Things | Steddie | 154k | Things were weird in Hawkins. The fields were rotting, there was something in the woods, and Steve Harrington's Beemer had a new problem every week.
Run Me Through by GriefAbyss | Stranger Things | Steddie | 9k | Eddie and Steve have an arrangement - every Wednesday they meet up and have fantastic sex, even if they barely even talk to each other.
Shout if you want my heart by rustypeopleskillz | Stranger Things | Steddie | Eddie asks Steve to be his fake boyfriend so Wayne will stop pestering him to get out of Hawkins to stretch his wings. Steve says yes.
rising moon by jk_rockin | Stranger Things | Steddie | 13k | Steve gets bitten by a strange dog one hot summer night. It takes him a month, and a little outside help, to work out what's wrong with him.
Till I Kissed You by 96tears | Stranger Things | Steddie | 18k | When Eddie confesses he’s never got the big deal about kissing, Steve teases him about it, saying maybe it’s because Eddie’s a bad kisser.
you gotta get a reaction by jk_rockin | Stranger Things | Steddie | 10k | Steve actually likes Judas Priest.
blinking red light by cuips_not_cute | Stranger Things | Steddie | WIP | 11k | A sex tape is…crazy.
The Shire is NOT on Fire by kissesforcas | Stranger Things | Steddie | 54k | The kids convince Steve to take them all to a Renaissance Faire and LARP event.
like a heartbeat drives you mad by redbelles | Stranger Things | Eddissy | 5k | “Oh,” she squeaks out. “You mean like— like? Sex?”
Duality by broomclosetkink | Stranger Things | Eddissy | 55k | “Holy fuck, did I take acid?” he asks. Because he’s staring at himself in the mirror, but he is Chrissy Cunningham.
Big wheel keep on turning by prufrocks | Stranger Things | Steddie | 27k | A few months after Starcourt, Steve moves out of his parents' house and into a friend of a friend's empty RV.
Dying of love but it's okay by prufrocks | Stranger Things | Steddie | 16k | “But this,” Steve says, waving his hands between the two of them, “this is a one-time thing.”
Love’s A Hand-Me-Down Brew by beetlesandstars | ST | Steddie | “I think Eddie Munson flirted with me today.”
Looks like we're in for nasty weather by prufrocks | ST | Steddie | 41k | Steve doesn't know what the invisible force that attacked him in the woods is.
Right Where You Belong by WabiSabiPapi | ST | Steddie | 32k | “…Eddie?” the guy chokes out.
this time I'll sing along by jk_rockin | ST | Steddie | 7k | When Eddie laughs, it’s not a mean laugh; he’s not really laughing at Steve.
Honey, Honey (How You Thrill Me) by beetlesandstars | ST | Steddie | 5k | The second Steve steps inside, his nostrils flare, eyes widening.
Wanna See What You Can Take by a_lil_a_lot | ST | Steddie | 13k | So, never in a million years did Eddie expect to see Stevie in a random swimming pool in Indianapolis almost a decade later. Especially not like this.
soulmate soundtrack by hexiewrites | ST | Steddie | 10k | It's fucking LAST CHRISTMAS, by WHAM.
carve your name into my chest by hexiewrites | ST | Steddie | 42k | Eddie Munson just wanted to play hockey.
make some room by Adure | ST | Chrissy/Steve/Eddie | 15k | Eddie, down on his luck and back in Hawkins, crashes on his friends' couch while he licks his wounds.
don't go wastin your emotions by kissesforcas | ST | Steddie | 51k | "Steve 'the Hair' Harrington, a rage-filled barbarian, who knew?" Eddie says, like its a compliment, like Steve has ANY idea what that means.
sleep it off by Adure | ST | Steddie | 22k | "Why is this happening?" Eddie says, voice tight. Steve doesn't know. Steve barely knows what is happening, much less the why.
DELIGHTFUL FANVIDS
February
Eddie Munson || In The End
DELIGHTFUL MUSIC
February
all american bitch - olivia rodrigo
magic pill - summamore
timezone - maneskin
harder, faster - wasp
teenage dirtbag - wheatus
heaven is a place on earth - belinda carlisle
18 - anarbor
white rabbit
sweet dreams - marilyn manson
hazbin hotel soundtrack
street spirit - radiohead
troubadour - perceval
hayloft ii - mother mother
bad feeling - jagward twin
chateau - djo
gloom - djo
petite fleur - jill barber
fire eater - charming disaster
teenage dream - girl puppy
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I am so glad to see that you're writing again. I think of you from time to time, and check your blog occasionally
Forgive me as I cry my eyes out rq
I have a tendency, or have had the tendency to think I can write again, and then doubt myself and stop, and then come back and say I'm writing again, and then self sabotage and-
I've convinced myself that it must have been annoying on some level to those who remember this blog (which, the fact that I am remembered and this blog is something cherished, no matter how much, means the fucking world to me), but the fact that you sent this, despite how many times I've said "i'm writing again!" and then let this blog go silent...
I love you in the wholesome way a person can love a stranger <3
anyways, here's a little something that I've been working on to warm up with
i'm hoping I can keep posting little bits and pieces!
***
Machinery whirred throughout the workshop. Hulking pieces of robotics, gutted computers, and cast off projects littered the tables and floors, their cables casting a tangled web across the room that Ari waltzed through. A fan from above swung idly, and she huffed at the hair swept into her face, tying it quickly back into a sagging bun. She did not mind the deafening noise of tens of machines, the steady thrum of internal fans struggling to keep the metal cool. If anything, she heaved a sigh of relief as her foot crossed some invisible threshold into the heart of the workshop.
A silhouette on the other side clicked. ”G-good…m-m-morning.” Warm yellow eyes flickered to life in the shadows.
Ari’s lips quirked as she flicked on the rest of the lights. “It’s 3pm, RIN.”
Fluorescent light shone bright on a lithe android body propped up on a chair by her work tables. He was little more than a humanistic torso and head, adorned with sleek tan metal and aluminum highlights, hooked up to a mess of wires. The back panel of his head laid just to the side, along with his arms and legs. The same ones that Ari hasn’t managed to sync with the rest of the programming yet.
Her brows furrowed as she considered which to work on that day.
“M-my apol-apologies,” RIN said, “I am still-I am still-still…”
Ari winced. “Still warming up. It’s okay, give it a moment.”
RIN’s chin dipped, his body almost seeming to sag against the worn office chair, eyes dimming. Ari hesitated. Her heart panged.
“Hey, you’re just a little cold.” She reached out to press a warm hand against his shoulder. “It’s alright, you’ll be good as new in a heartbeat.”
RIN didn’t reply for a long moment, but Ari waited, listening patiently to the thousand little clicks within his machinery. Then, a whir as RIN lifted his head. “It ha-has been a-a heartb-beat and I a-am still cold.” That gaze drifted down to the table beside him. “And-and still missing limbs.”
Ari blew out a startled laugh; one that quickly turned to worry. It wasn’t good for him to sit uselessly in her dark shop, confined to a wobbly seat. “I know, I’m sorry, RIN.” She reached across him to grab a left leg. “I think I’m close to figuring out what the issue is, though.”
Those warmly-lit eyes narrowed a bit, tiny half moons of shadow forming at the bottom. As if he were smiling.
Ari arched a brow as she settled into the chair next to him. “You don’t believe me.”
“Statistically sp-speaking, today should be no different from last night.”
She pulled the leg over to her workbench. “Ye of little faith,” she said, opening a panel on the calf. “Just because I didn’t find anything new then, certainly does not mean I won’t find it now.” She grabbed a mess of wires protruding from her main computer, fished three specific ones out, and connected them for yet another diagnostic test. As code flickered across the monitor gathering information, she leaned back. “And, you’re sounding better already.”
RIN just watched her before tilting his gaze towards the screen. As good as she was, he would always be able to understand it just a few moments faster. So when his head dipped again, those eyes dimming, Ari’s stomach plummeted to her feet.
ERROR.
#heather writes#god you guys really have no idea how much this means to me#i tend to think that because i haven't made linear progress that it translates to some bullshit notion of me not deserving support#or ppl remembering this fondly#every single ask i've gotten#i absolutely treasure#thank you#<3 <3 <3#writing
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backhugs | gojo satoru ( jujutsu kaisen ) x female! reader
genre fluff, drabble
cw short! reader
notes i miss gojo so fucking much it’s insane / a lil fluff bc i love him so much
"ugh, how do i get it..."
you looked up at the cabinet where the pepper shaker was stored. you tried reaching for it but you almost tripped. why is it even at a high place?!
you looked around to find a chair, but for some reason, there was none.
ah, satoru.
pursing your lips into a thin line, you walked to your shared bedroom with your boyfriend. there, you saw him reading a book as he chewed on his favorite candy. you crossed your arms as you leaned against the doorframe. "love?"
gojo glanced at you and smiled innocently at your unreadable expression, "oh, hey. what's up?"
"i wonder who placed the pepper shaker in the cabinet... i need it for our dinner later."
"…i wonder?" he still kept the innocent (or teasing?) smile on his face, making you whine.
"’toru! how am i supposed to cook dinner? i can't even find any chairs for me to reach it!"
you heard him laugh as he stood up, "okay, i'll get it for you."
once you both walked into the kitchen, he reached for the pepper shaker easily. when you were about to grab it, he raised it above his head and your eyes widened. "hey!"
"hmm, you should give me something before i give this to you."
you huffed, a hug? a kiss?
okay, a kiss.
"...fine," you simply gave him a short kiss on his cheek. "happy?"
gojo hummed once again, "hmmm, no. i want it on the lips."
"seriously?” you tiptoed and placed your lips to his, wrapping your arms around his neck. he kissed back almost immediately, his free hand going to your waist. when you both pulled away, you looked into his eyes as you smiled. "pepper?"
"oh come on, that's the first thing you say after a kiss?"
"satoru!"
he chuckled and put up his hand where the pepper shaker is resting. you were about to grab it, but then he held it up high again, smirking.
"ah, forget it." you turned away from your boyfriend before you felt his arms wrapping around your waist, his head resting on top of yours. "satoru?"
"i'm just messing with you," finally, he gave you the pepper shaker. "you're so cute."
"thanks..." you muttered as he laughed.
"for what? for the pepper or because i called you cute?"
you laughed with him, playfully smacking his arm. "both."
"alright, will you let me cook dinner with you?"
"tell me why you hid all the chairs in this house first."
xoxodiluc © 2023 | all rights reserved. do not claim as your own, modify, copy or repost.
#♡.heather’s writings#♡.sfw#gojo satoru#gojo x you#jjk gojo#gojo x reader#jujutsu gojo#gojo fluff#gojo x y/n#gojo satoru x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#satoru#jjk satoru#satoru gojo
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I needed to be somewhere different. Maybe I needed to be someone different, too.
Heather Davis; The Clearing
#Heather Davis; The Clearing#motivation#quotes#poetry#literature#relationship quotes#writing#original#words#love#relationship#thoughts#lit#prose#spilled ink#inspiring quotes#life quotes#quoteoftheday#love quotes#poem#aesthetic
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Day 7
Free-day (Out of order and late) Alenoah as Sherlock/Moriarty.
I like it when two characters play mind games and scheming against or with each other.
I didn`t plan to create an AU, but – my rant and bits of literature/character analysis (The Vision). Also, draw concept sketch.
Noah (Detective Sherlock Holmes). I mean, they're both geniuses, introverts who don't care about social opinion and some versions depicted him as being good with dogs. In Victorian England, I totally see Noah opening a detective agency, because you either go working on a plant or you might use your geniuses’ intelligence to solve crimes, like game puzzles, and make monies to pay bills and buy new books because in 1800 many books were expensive and produced in small quantities.
Plus! I might look at this too far, but I think the Sherlock and Watson analogy was implemented in London episode when they strip team Chris just to Noah and Owen for investigation.
Owen (Dr. Watson). Basically in the original books, Watson plays the role of the guy, your typical visual novel MC, well narrator, who has character, but his whole purpose is just to be a witness to detectives doing, asking questions for the audience. This leads to usually representing Watson as either annoyed with Sherlock's antics or (usually in kids' media) naïve but with good intentions because of this simplification, to show his kindhearted nature in cartoons and caricatures he is portrayed as chubby, which is what we need! But all of them did service in the Anglo-Afghan War, even Disney version mentioned it. (Also if you want to do Nowen version of Jhonlock I don`t mind, sure go for it)
Alejandro (professor Moriarty). Do I really need to explain? Both archvillains in their stories. Professor, respected in society for his talent and achievements, wealthy, but behind all of that façade he`s "Napoleon of crime". He doesn’t usually do crimes himself but rather, schemes, orchestrates the events, or provides the plans that will lead to a successful crime, like paying money to a court so that someone can be released from prison.
Heather (Irene Adler). OK, in the original books (all books written not by Arthur Conan Doyle are basically fanfics) her character and Sherlock don`t date (But if you like, it`s fine). She was more like “I know what you are” towards him. I want to base it more on Warner Bros Sherlock where Irene works with Moriarty, but they also try to get rid of each other. She is also famous for blackmailing royals, If it isn`t most Heather thing I don`t know what is.
Eva (Mrs. Hudson). The landlady. I think it would be funny, she yelling at them to pay their bills in time.
See you next week
#total drama#td noah#td alejandro#alenoah#td heather#td owen#td eva#alenoahweek2024#english not my first language#write it at night#i probably should have made several posts#I just combined two things that I love#sorry Eva#Sorry about the rant I try to restrain myself
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-blonde horror protagonist's abrupt and incorrect assumptions about blonde people
[id in alt]
#haunting ground#demento#resident evil 4#re4#silent hill 2#sh2#silent hill 3#sh3#fiona belli#ashley graham#sh2 maria#heather mason#blood#gun#dog#early 2000s horror girl starter pack: blonde + skirt + kneehigh boots#though these 4 have even more little things in common the more you look at them. ashley n heather the pumpkin sisters#and you will probably never see me draw fiona without hewie so he's part of the blonde boot brigade too. honorary member#but yeah despite the... interesting writing of the sh3 ending i did catch this golden line#and immediately thought of every blonde i know of that's ever had the absolute worst day of her life in these games#fan art#my art
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Jason doesn’t know why he did it.
Maybe it was because of the alcohol in his system or maybe it was his subconscious still being salty about his family’s comments about him not having many hobbies.
He reads!
What’s wrong with reading!?
Sure, it was mainly about work now a days but that’s besides the point!
Apparently it wasn’t good enough to be counted as a ‘hobby’ by the others.
So when he was walking back from a bar on his night off and got hit in the face with flyer about auditions for the local theater group Mixed up Manhattan he stuffed it in his pocket and said “fuck it”.
Needless to say he was mildly confused when he woke up the next day to a call back for JD from Heathers the musical.
He was more confused when he found out his “Veronica” was being played by a dude.
Turns out Mixed up Manhattan was a group who did not care about gender as long as you could bring a character to life.
Now he was in too deep to back out, if he was going to act out a scene with someone. Than he was going to put his whole dick and balls into it.
It was only fair for “Veronica” after all.
~~~~~
Danny was slightly surprised when he went back to callbacks and saw Drunk Dude in the group.
Danny found him silly and charming in the waiting room the other night but he was clearly intoxicated when he auditioned. Danny thought that the chances of seeing him again was very slim.
But there he was, looking a little bit out of his comfort zone.
Did he even remember auditioning?
As they were called up for a scene he flashed the other a smile and felt his core loosen with the other guy’s shoulders.
Turns out, Jason had some good singing chops.
~~~~~~~~
Jason Todd lands a lead in a musical.
The musical about death and sex.
His family must never know.
The second one of them finds out his life is over again.
They will go out of their way to embarrass Jason in front of Danny and there will go the whole dark and mysterious thing he has been trying to do.
#dp x dc#writing prompt#danny phantom#danny fenton#batman#dc x dp#jason todd#shipping#dead on main#deadonmain#red hood#heathers#heathers the musical#acting#Jason Todd as JD#danny Fenton as Veronica#Jason: danny must not know I am a dork#Danny: look at this dummy I am already in love#does the family find out?#mixed up Manhattan#mix up manhattan
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The sound of the doorbell is what wakes him. The morning sun is shining in through the window, hitting the messy curls on the pillow next to him and making them shine like gold. The sight makes him smile, and his first instinct is to reach over and brush the curls away from his boyfriend’s face. There’s nothing better than getting to watch him wake up, after all; watch those blue eyes flutter open and squint against the light.
The doorbell rings again before he can act on his urge, though. It is followed by loud knocking, which rouses the body next to Steve; unfortunately in a less peaceful way than Steve had imagined. Billy’s eyes shoot open and he tenses as he immediately takes in where he is, and with who. Wide, blue eyes meet Steve’s.
“Shit!” he says and is halfway out of bed before Steve can even react, pulling a shirt – Steve’s, not that it matters – over his head. “It’s Neil!”
Steve has just opened his mouth to protest, say that it’s not – it can’t be, Neil doesn’t know about them – when there’s a knock again, and an angry man’s voice drifts up from outside.
And it is indeed Neil’s voice.
Shit.
Steve jumps out of bed too and nabs for the other shirt that’s been discarded on the floor – but no, no, he can’t show up at the door wearing Billy’s shirt, he can’t, so he drops it again before hurrying to his closet. He pulls on an old T-shirt, and then whirls around and grabs Billy’s face between his hands. Billy’s face, which has gone ashen with fear.
“Stay here,” Steve says. “I’ll get rid of him. It’ll be okay.”
He turns and walks out of the room, squaring his shoulders as he goes. In his periphery, he sees Heather’s head peek out of the guest room that she and Robin stumbled into late last night while blushing and giggling, but he ignores her as he makes his way to the stairs.
The knocking and shouting continues, sending equal measures of anger and fear down Steve’s spine. How did the man know to come here? Billy said he’d told him that he was going to a party last night; said that he wasn’t even given a curfew. The man would have had no reason to suspect that the party was in fact a very private affair at Steve’s place, with just him and Billy and Robin and Heather – a safe place, as all of them knew about each other’s preferences by now – and definitely would have had no reason to show up on Steve’s doorstep this early in the morning. As far as Steve knows, Billy’s dad doesn’t even know Steve by name, and shouldn’t know where he lives.
He’s halfway down the stairs when a hand grasps his arm.
“Don’t,” Billy says, voice shaking. Steve turns – he’s standing a step below Billy, so he has to look up to face him – and sees that Billy’s shaking his head. “Don’t open the door.”
He’s scared, Steve realizes. Really scared.
From outside the door, they can now make out Neil’s angry words between the bouts of knocking. “I know he’s in there! Open the door. William!”
Billy is just standing there, still holding on to Steve’s arm. His eyes are big and pleading. He’s obviously terrified, and it feels so wrong. No one who has fought monsters with the same fervor as Billy should ever have to be scared of a mere human.
A calm settles over Steve, followed by resolve. He gently extricates himself from Billy’s grip – ignoring the way Billy trembles – and says, “Don’t worry. I won’t let him hurt you again.”
He continues down the stairs, but Billy shoulders past him and blocks his way. Puts both hands on Steve’s chest and pushes. “I don’t care if he hurts me,” he hisses. “But he’s dangerous.” The man yells some threats from the other side of the door and knocks again. Rattles the door handle for emphasis, this time. Billy flinches and looks over his shoulder before continuing, “I don’t want him to hurt you.”
“He’s not going to hurt me,” Steve says. He doesn’t know that for sure, but he can’t imagine it. This is his house, or, well, his parents’. Neil is the one who’s trespassing. And Steve knows the Chief of Police.
He walks past his boyfriend and crosses the hall. A hand lands on his shoulder again. Not forcing him to stop or trying to hold him back; just there. Imploring.
“Please,” Billy begs, and it pierces Steve’s heart like a knife because Billy doesn’t beg.
Billy, acting like this, is not right. The man on the other side of the door has brought Billy too much pain already. This has to end. And that end starts now. By getting rid of the immediate threat.
They’ll figure out the rest later.
Steve walks on. Stops in front of the door and only then realizes that Billy’s standing there with him, still with a hand on his shoulder. He’s watching Steve with big, wet eyes and shaking his head silently. Don’t do this, he doesn’t say out loud. Please, just ignore him.
But Steve can’t. Not this time. Not when the man is ranting on his doorstep on a Saturday morning, threatening to break in. Not when Billy’s standing here next to Steve, shaking with terror.
Billy is not getting hurt by that man in Steve’s house. If Neil tries to set one foot inside, Steve will kill him.
Steve reaches for the door, and with his other hand, he pushes Billy up against the wall just inside the door. Close enough to touch, but out of sight of his irate father. He can feel Billy’s heart beat frantically under his hand, and silently vows that this is the last time. This is the last time Billy is afraid.
He breathes in deeply and takes a second to slip into spoiled rich-boy mode. Then he opens the door.
“What?” he drawls, unimpressed. He gives the man outside a contemptuous look. The man draws himself up to say something, but Steve doesn’t let him speak. “Do you know what time it is? It’s Saturday, man. Some people are trying to sleep.”
Neil Hargrove is proper; not a hair out of place. It’s the first thing Steve thinks as he sees him up close – he has seen the man from a distance at times and listened in on the occasional phone call between him and Billy, but Billy has never let Steve even get close to the house on Cherry Lane when he knows that his dad is home.
The man is of average build and doesn’t look particularly dangerous from an outsider’s point of view, but there’s something cold in his eyes that sends shivers of fear down Steve’s spine when he’s pinned under Neil’s gaze. He doesn’t let his discomfort show, though; just lets the man take in Steve’s appearance fully – his messy hair, the way he’s just wearing a shirt and underwear, and how he’s obviously just got out of bed – and waits for him to speak.
“I know he’s here,” Neil growls – actually growls, like an animal. Steve sees movement out of the corner of his eye but doesn’t dare glance to where Billy’s huddling up against the wall. Instead he leans against the side of the door, placing himself more firmly between Billy and his dad.
He has seen the bruises on Billy’s skin and he has hated that he has to let Billy go back to that house time and again, but this is the first time he truly sees what Billy faces at home. He thinks, idly, that he won’t be able to let Billy go back there again.
“What are you talking about?” he asks, and tries to make it sound as if he thinks the man isn’t all there in the head. By the way Neil’s face turns darker, he succeeds.
“My son, William. I know he’s here.”
“William,” Steve deadpans, as if it’s a word he has never uttered before. He raises one eyebrow. “Look, there’s no William here, man. You’ve got the wrong address. Go yell at someone else’s door. Or don’t, I don’t care. Just go away.”
He starts to close the door, but Neil’s hand shoots out and stops him. He doesn’t move to go inside, but he’s holding the door without letting it close, and staring at Steve with narrowed eyes. A challenge. A threat.
“I’m not leaving without my son.”
So that’s how it’s going to be, huh?
Steve draws himself up and narrows his own eyes as he stares back. He manages to dial back on the disgust, but some of it must shine through because he can feel himself sneering. “Who are you again?” he asks. Flippantly.
“My name is Neil Hargrove,” Neil says, pronouncing every syllable with obvious annoyance. Good. “And my son, William –“
“You mean Billy?” Steve says, letting surprise color his voice. “You’re Billy’s dad?” He doesn’t let the man answer, instead he lets out an incredulous laugh. “You think Billy is here?”
“His car is parked down the road,” Neil seethes, and oh. “You’re on the basketball team with him. And I know what he’s like. He’s a dirty little faggot who –“
Steve lets his face shut down. Slips on the mask that he has seen on his parent’s faces on many occasions during boring parties and work functions. The ‘do you know who I am’ persona. His voice is ice cold when he speaks.
“I’m not sure what you are insinuating, Mr. Hargrove, but if I were you, I’d stop talking.” Something like uncertainty flickers in Neil’s eyes. Steve drinks it in. “I don’t know if you know my parents –“ He nods to the brass plaque next to the door with ‘Harrington’ etched into it “– but I’m sure they won’t be too impressed when they hear that some lunatic showed up at their door on a Saturday morning, accusing their only son of being …” He holds Neil’s eye. Can’t – won’t – say the word the man used, not with Billy behind the door. “… a deviant.”
Disgust is dripping from his voice – disgust over this sorry excuse for a human, disgust over the fact that he has to deal with this at all – but that lends him credibility in this particular instance. He sounds just like an offended rich boy. An offended rich boy with influence.
As if on cue – which it most likely is, since Steve suspects that the girls have been listening in for some time now – there are soft steps behind him on the stairs, and Robin’s voice drifts out from behind him, “Steve? What’s going on?”
He lets the door open just a little bit wider under the guise of turning around, allowing Neil Hargrove to see Robin. Robin, whose hair is also sleep-mussed, and who is wearing an oversized button-up shirt. It’s not Steve’s – she must have taken it from his dad’s closet – but Neil doesn’t know that. She paints a perfect picture of a confused girlfriend who just woke up to the sounds of yelling, and Steve is so grateful that he’s friends with her.
“Nothing, baby,” he says, softening his voice. “Go back to bed.”
Robin hesitates with one more look at Neil. Licks her lips, as if she’s worried. “Should I … call someone? The police, or …?”
Perfect. Thank you for the assist, Robin.
“No, there’s no need to bother Jim this early in the morning,” Steve says, making sure to use Hopper’s first name, and turns back to face Neil. Neil, whose face has paled. Who has possibly started to realize that he may have messed up. Steve gives him a stiff smile and lets his voice go cold again as he continues, “Mr. Hargrove here was just leaving. Isn’t that right, Mr. Hargrove?”
Too proud or too angry to say it out loud, the man just gives a jerky nod and steps back. Steve will take it, as long as he leaves.
Starting to close the door again, Steve sneaks one glance at Billy’s pale face an arms-length away, and adds, in a sudden bout of inspiration.
“Oh, and if you’re looking for Billy in Loch Nora –“ He gives Neil, who’s half-turned to leave, a slow once-over, showing just enough disdain to make it clear that someone like Neil Hargrove doesn’t belong in this part of town, “– then I suggest you try the Holloways next. I think I saw him with their daughter Heather at the party last night.” He gives a sardonic little smile at the way Neil Hargrove’s face shutters. Everyone’s heard of the Holloways, just as everyone’s heard of the Harringtons. “I’m sure Tom and Janet will appreciate being disturbed on a Saturday morning just as much as I have. Who knows, it might get you a mention in the Post.”
With that, he shuts the door in Neil Hargrove’s face and locks it, and turns to his wide-eyed boyfriend. Who hasn’t moved from his space behind the door.
He ignores both Robin running out into the kitchen on silent feet – probably to make sure that Neil Hargrove actually leaves – and Heather coming downstairs, in favor of putting his hands on the sides of Billy’s face and lean in so their foreheads are touching. Billy is shivering and his breaths are uneven, but he reaches up and grabs at Steve’s wrist and the back of his head with something akin to desperation.
“I can’t believe you,” he whispers. “You’re crazy.”
“Crazy about you,” Steve says, and is rewarded with a shaky little laugh.
“Shit,” Billy breathes. “I was so scared, Steve. I thought he was gonna –”
“But he didn’t.”
They stand there for a little while, just looking at each other. Holding each other and breathing each other’s air. Gradually, Billy’s tremors subside. His heart rate slows.
Eventually, Robin comes back into the hall and announces, “He’s gone. Got in his car and left.” She adds, pointedly, “Didn’t look like he was heading for the Holloways’, either.”
Steve looks at her and then drifts his eyes over to Heather, who’s sitting on the second to last step on the stairs, looking at them with one eyebrow raised. He winces. “Yeah … uh, sorry about that, I guess. I should have asked first.”
“You should,” Heather agrees. “But you didn’t, which means that you owe me one.” She looks between Steve and Billy and says, “I would have agreed if you’d asked, but you know. You still owe me.”
Steve laughs. Heather turns to Billy and points one well-manicured finger at him. “So I guess we’re dating now, you and I. I hope you know that I expect to be wooed.”
After Billy gives her a little salute, she nods and turns to Robin. Smiles lewdly as she takes in her appearance in the oversized shirt. “You look good in that,” she says, biting her lip. “Let’s see what other fun clothes we can find in that closet.”
The girls disappear up the stairs, giggling. Steve has a suspicion that his parents’ closet are going to be in complete disarray soon, but can’t bring himself to care. It’s a small price to pay.
“Do you want to go back to bed, too?” Steve asks, and belatedly realizes what it sounds like. “To sleep some more, I mean!” he adds. Because a Neil Hargrove scare first thing in the morning is probably not exactly a turn-on. “Or do you want breakfast? I can make breakfast. We have –“
“I want to go back to bed,” Billy says, thankfully cutting off the rambling.
“Okay,” Steve says and reaches out for his hand. When Billy’s hand slots into his, is it perfectly steady. No more tremors. “Okay, let’s do that.”
But Billy shakes his head. “I don’t wanna sleep, though.”
“… no?”
Billy’s looking at him through his lashes – his ridiculously long lashes, which he knows is Steve’s Kryptonite – and gives a small smile.
“Not gonna lie, babe. That was a terrifying experience. But …” He takes a step closer, brushes the lightest of kisses against Steve’s lip before leaning in and whispering in his ear, “… the way you shut him down like that, that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Then he abruptly turns and sashays away, but not before giving Steve’s butt a quick squeeze as he passes.
He stops at the bottom of the stairs with one hand on the bannister, and looks over his shoulder all seductively. “You coming?”
Oh, Steve is coming, all right.
He chases Billy up the stairs. (And this time, when he catches him, he’ll hold onto him and never let him go back to that house again.)
#harringrove#steve harrington#billy hargrove#buckleway#heather holloway#robin buckley#stranger things#harringrove fic#ihni writes#got this scenario stuck in my head and had to write it down#wrote it over the course of a few hours#:)
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That's My Man
whumpuary #9: scars
summary: Even the hottest man on the planet has insecurities about his looks
warnings: negative self talk, spice/implied smut (nothing explicit)
word count: 600
•••
“God, I look like shit.” Bradley mutters to himself as he examines his scars in the floor-length mirror. Fresh out of the shower, the marred skin looks more evident in the morning sun.
“Hey, that’s my man you’re talking about.” You tease, wrapping your arms around his torso. Bradley looks at you in the mirror, seemingly unmoved by your playful comment.
“That’s the mystery. What do you even find attractive about me? I look like Frankenstein.”
There’s a noticeable shift in your demeanor when you realize that your boyfriend is seriously feeling down about himself. It hurts your heart to think that he feels insecure about the man he sees in the mirror, the one that you love so deeply.
“Don’t talk about yourself like that.”
“It’s hard not to. Every time I look in the mirror it’s all I see.” His fingertips pull at his cheek, stretching the skin in a way that makes the scars look more prominent.
“Well, you know what I see?” You move in front of Bradley, blocking his view of the mirror. “I see my strong, badass boyfriend who does one of the most dangerous jobs ever yet manages to come back home to me even when the odds are against him.” You trace over the scars on his chest that he acquired when punching out of his plane that was destroyed during a dogfight.
“I see someone who fights for those he loves and never leaves a man behind.” The scars on his cheek and neck are next to be caressed, reminding him that they were the byproduct of his decision to go after Maverick during the Uranium mission.
Lastly, you take his left hand in yours, acknowledging the red mark on his palm “I also see an idiot who burned his hand on my curling iron, but I guess that’s beside the point.” You kiss the welt as Bradley shakes his head, chuckling at your cheekiness.
Lifting his face with your hands, you force him to look into your eyes so he knows that your next words are the truth. “Your scars don’t make you less attractive, Bradley, or less deserving of love. They’re proof of how resilient you are and I love you no matter what.”
“I love you too.”
You press a tender kiss to his forehead before pulling back. “And I’m not only with you for your looks, y’know.”
“Well, what are you with me for?” Bradley questions, expecting a heartfelt answer or perhaps even a sentiment about what’s between his legs.
“The great benefits that the Navy offers, duh! Who wouldn’t want to live in this amazing government housing? Having a working refrigerator is overrated!”
“You’re a tease, you know that?”
“No, I’m just a sarcastic bitch. If I were a tease I would do this…”
You lean in close to your boyfriend, leaving delicate kisses along his neck as you slowly run a hand down to the front of his gym shorts where he is sensitive. Bradley lets out a soft moan as you suck a mark against his collarbone. He reaches out for your hips but you spin away from his grasp.
Smirking at your successful attempt at riling your boyfriend up and getting his mind off his insecurities, you run out of the bedroom hollering, “Well! I’m off to run errands!”
“Oh, you’re in for it now!”
Your squeals fill the apartment as Bradley chases you through the house to get you to finish what you started. Eventually, he catches up and you spend the afternoon showing him every single thing you love about him including his scars.
#heather writes#bradley bradshaw x reader#whumpuary2023#bradley bradshaw fanfic#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#rooster bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw
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Walk Me Home | A “Headless” Fic
Chapter Fifty-Four
Story summary: Brom and Matilda find their relationship status is more complicated than ever after the explosive reveal of a year’s worth of secrets. How do they navigate their way forward when they struggle to know what’s true? And yet, to their friends, some things couldn’t be more obvious. (Explores what happens in between the climax of the finale and the epilogue of “Headless: A Sleepy Hollow Story”.)
Chapter summary: Matilda and Brom celebrate their first Valentine's day.
Chapter Characters/Pairings: Brom and Matilda
Rating: Teen
Author’s note: How would Sleepy Hollow's sports hero slash helpless romantic and resident goth witch celebrate this holiday of love? I feel like this is kinda a loaded question, so I hope I've done it justice! And there's more to come next week. :)
Link: AO3.org
#headless: a sleepy hollow story#headless series#bromtilda#fanfiction#matilda bishop#brom bones#abraham van brunt#heather writes#walk me home fic#valentine's
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Raft
AO3 | FFN
Summary: Riku and Kairi continued their bickering as they emerged back onto the beach. As they walked to the docks, Sora stopped. He looked at the boats, an idea starting to form. “Hey guys,” he said. “What about a raft?”
[Or, how Sora, Riku, and Kairi decided to build a raft to leave the islands.]
A/N: Written for @destinytriofanzine. Leftovers are now available so go grab a copy while you still can!
The day on the islands had been hectic as Sora and Riku began to head back in. Even as things started to wind down, the smile hadn’t left Sora’s face from the games they’d been playing on the beach to mark the end of the school year and beginning of summer. But as the others had returned home, even Sora’s boundless energy had started to fade, and it was time for them to return home for the night.
As they got to the docks, he and Riku paused, noticing a third boat still sitting next to theirs. Sora frowned. “Kairi’s still out here?”
“Seems so,” Riku said, a frown on his face. He turned to face Sora. “I thought something seemed off when she said she was sick.”
“You don’t think something happened to her, do you?” Sora asked.
Rather than answer his question immediately, Riku turned around. “I don’t know…But we should probably look around and see if we can find her, just to make sure.”
Sora nodded. “Right.” He followed Riku’s gaze to the Secret Place, understanding without words.
If there was anywhere that Kairi would choose to hide, it would be there. In their hideaway from the others, where they played games just the three of them.
Sora led the way, Riku not even a step behind him as they made their way across the beach to find their missing best friend. Whatever was actually wrong with Kairi, Sora would make sure to find out. He had to do whatever he could to make sure she was okay.
The moment they entered the cave, it was obvious they had come to the right place. There was a clattering sound, as though somebody was hitting the walls of the cave with another stone. Once they entered through the corridor, they saw Kairi doing just that. She was etching a new picture on the wall of a bird.
When she heard their footsteps, she stopped. “Sora? Riku?”
Sora smiled and waved. “Hey Kairi.”
She gently put the stone down, turning away from her drawing to face them. “I’d have thought you guys would’ve gone back by now.”
“When we saw your boat at the dock, we got worried,” Sora explained. “So we went looking.”
“Besides, we couldn’t leave here without you.” Riku extended a hand to her. “You should know us better than that by now, Kairi.”
Kairi gave a small smile, though she hid it behind her hands. “Sorry for worrying you. I just needed some time alone.” She brushed past both of them, heading for the cave’s entrance. “Come on, let’s go back!”
“Hang on.” Sora grabbed Kairi’s wrist before she could continue onward. Despite her insisting she was okay, this wasn’t normal. Not for her. “You didn’t tell us what was wrong.”
Kairi stood still, not saying anything. She remained quiet long enough that Sora wasn’t sure that she would tell them what was wrong, but before he could ask again, she spoke. “It was the comment Selphie made.”
“The what…?” Sora frowned, trying to think of something she had said that could’ve upset Kairi.
“The one about your memories?” Riku asked. Kairi nodded. “You seemed a little off after that.”
“It wasn’t meant to be such a big deal, just…” She trailed off, as though trying to decide how much she wanted to let Sora and Riku know. “Sometimes, I wonder about what my life was like before I came to the islands. About my old homeworld, and about the friends and family I had before I came here.” She looked towards them. “I know there isn’t anything that can be done about it, and normally I try not to let it bother me. What she said just brought all of it back up.”
“Oh.” Admittedly, there wasn’t a lot that Sora could do to help reassure her. There was no way for Sora to help her access those memories and remind her of what they contained, and so it was a problem with no real solution to be had. “Well, I know we can’t really make up for the memories you’re missing, but there’s all the memories you’ve made with us. And the home you have now.” He grinned, letting go of Kairi’s arm to put his hands behind his head.
Kairi nodded. “I know, and I wouldn’t trade getting to know you guys for any amount of time on my homeworld, but still…”
“You wonder about the life you used to have out there, and about the world you left behind.” Riku filled in the silence Kairi left behind.
“I had to have a family before I was here. They must be so worried about whether or not I’m okay.” Kairi rocked on her feet, smiling despite the small amount of hurt in her voice. “But I’ll be fine. It’s not like I remember them anyways.”
“Then that means they’re out there looking for you, right?” Sora asked. “They’ll have to come across our islands so long as they keep looking.”
Riku shook his head. “We don’t need to wait for them. Maybe instead of that, we could go to the other worlds. We could find your homeworld, Kairi!”
The idea had merit. The three of them were decent at fighting if they ran into anything dangerous, they were smart, and they were experienced in traveling at least the short distance between the main and play islands. They could handle themselves long enough to make it off the islands and find another world. And then they could keep exploring the worlds as long as it took.
“I’d like to try.” Sora nodded, turning to Kairi. “What about you, Kairi?”
“What if it’s dangerous? I don’t want you getting hurt for me.” Kairi bit her lip and frowned, almost as though she held a memory of a threat she wished she could forget. A threat that could put them all in danger.
“We won’t.” Riku insisted, trying to put her mind at ease. “You don’t have to worry about a thing, Sora and I will stay safe, and we can help protect you too.”
“You sure?” Kairi asked. Riku nodded, and just like that, the worried expression vanished before Sora could ask why. “Then in that case, let’s do it!”
“Hold on, aren’t you forgetting something?” Riku asked. Kairi tilted her head. “We still need to figure out how we’re going to get there.”
That was a part of the plan Sora hadn’t thought out yet. He looked around the walls of the cave, searching for any sort of inspiration before his eyes locked on the picture of the bird. “We could fly there!”
“Fly?” Kairi smiled, much more genuine than before.
“Yeah! On a ship. Like a rocket.” Sora could see it now. Obviously, they would need to fly to get off the different worlds. It wouldn’t be that hard to navigate the stars above if they could fly.
“I don’t think we’re going to be able to get a rocket.” Riku shook his head and crossed his arms, clearly doubting Sora’s plan for them to get off the islands. “We can’t make one either, we don’t have the materials.”
Sora pouted. “So what’s your idea then?”
“I think we could make a portal. It couldn’t be that hard.” When Riku mentioned the portal, Sora saw a brief glimpse of a woman flying away in armor from the islands in a light portal in the sky. A memory from a long time ago.
“Do you know how to make portals?” Kairi asked.
Riku hesitated. “Well…no, but it can’t be that hard to learn, right?”
“Well…considering we don’t have any magic books…” she pointed out. Riku frowned, as though bothered by the lack of knowledge, or possibly trying to remember something from long ago.
“Okay then, fine. What’s your great idea?”
“Well, I think there’s some merit to your portal idea. Just… rather than summoning it, we could find an item to open one, or maybe teleport us around them.” Kairi started to walk out of the cave, causing Sora and Riku to follow her back out onto the beach. “But I’m not really sure we could find something like that here…”
Kairi was right. If such an item did exist in their world, it would be well hidden and hard to find, and somebody would have likely found it by that point, making the idea unlikely to work.
“It still seems like my method is the most likely then. I’m sure it can’t be that hard to learn how to summon one.” Riku smirked. Kairi shook her head. “What?”
“You’re just saying that because it’s your idea, aren’t you?”
“What, no, I’m not!”
Riku and Kairi continued their bickering as they emerged back onto the beach. As they walked to the docks, Sora stopped. He looked at the boats, an idea starting to form. “Hey guys,” he said. “What about a raft?”
Kairi and Riku stopped, turning to face him. “A raft.”
Sora nodded. “Of course.” He ran up to the dock’s edge, looking over the ocean into the horizon. “The ocean can’t go on forever, no matter how big it looks. If we just keep sailing, we’ll hit the end of our world, and then…”
Riku and Kairi caught on, both of them running up beside him to overlook the ocean.
“Then we’ll be in another world.” Riku’s voice was hardly more than a whisper, almost as though he couldn’t believe the idea Sora had said might actually work.
“And then once we’re there, I bet we can find a better mode of transportation to keep going.” Kairi grinned. “It wouldn’t take much to make it either. Just some logs, rope, and tarps.”
“All of those are things we have here!” Sora turned away from the horizon towards Riku first, and then Kairi, all too excited about the plan he was starting to form. “It wouldn’t take long to build it either, if we’re all working together.”
“How far do you think it is?” Kairi asked. “What if it’s a long journey ahead?”
“Then we gather food and water from the island before we go.” Riku jumped into the planning, now just as enthusiastic. “If Sora and I hunt for supplies together from here, and we grab some things from home, we should be able to gather more than enough food to last the journey.”
“What will I be doing while you’re doing that?” Kairi asked, pouting.
“The most important job, of course. You’ll put together the raft for us,” Riku answered. “You are the one best at making things.”
Kairi laughed. “Are you sure I’ll be able to do it alone?”
“You won’t know until you try,” Riku said. Sora nodded in agreement.
“Alright, I’ll try.” Though judging by the sounds of suppressed laughter, it seemed as though Kairi still doubted she’d be able to do it without their help.It wasn’t a problem to Sora though. All three of them would gather the materials, then they would build the raft and gather the supplies, and then after that, they could sail to the edge of the world right until they found a new one.
It was such a simple plan, and yet Sora knew it would work. The three of them would be able to use it to make it off the island. “We should start working tomorrow!”
Riku and Kairi nodded, and there was an excitement buzzing between the three of them as they continued discussing everything they would need.
The raft would take them where they needed to go, and then they would find Kairi’s home world.
Their adventure was about to begin.
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Year in Fic | 2023
How many fics did you write this year? What was your total wordcount?
This was a very, very depressing year for me fic-wise. I didn't think it was possible, but not only did I write less that I did last year, but I wrote SIGNIFICANTLY less than I did in 2022.
In 2023 I wrote 11 fics, for a total of 39,450 words. Which is uh, almost half what I did in 2022. And 2022 was a slow year for me. But! I will give myself a bit of grace considering I spent most of the year being neurotic about wedding planning.
Fic Roundup!
so damn sloppy | Stranger Things | Steve/Eddie | 4,557 words | Steve smiles, leaning forward just a little bit, and is rewarded by the sight of Eddie swaying towards him as if hypnotized. “We gonna stop pretending that I’m here just for a movie?”
into the unknown | LoZ | Zelda/Ganondorf/Link | 8,017 words | “What do you think, princess?” Ganondorf asks, cocking his head. “Would having your young knight here with us make the marriage bed more palatable?”
just a little bit closer, baby | Stranger Things | Chrissy/Eddie/Steve | 2,734 words | “He’s sure, Chrissy,” Steve says, voice warm.
Ghost Story | Stranger Things | Eddie/Steve | 2,559 words | Eddie wakes to darkness.
mommy don’t know daddy’s getting hot | Stranger Things | Steve/Eddie | 1,611 words | “Just— Christ, Steve. Fuck me, already. Fill me up, put a baby in me or whatever weird hetero bullshit your brain has a boner for, just do it.”
the icarus to your certainty | Marvel | Loki/Thor | 1,687 words | “Can’t you see that you’re lost without me?” Loki asks softly, his mouth twisted into a strange, sad little smile.
build your altar here | Star Wars | Reylo | 5,486 words | When Leia had first offered up Ben’s condo as a place for Rey to stay while she got back on her feet, she’d foolishly assumed that it was some kind of subletting situation.
for years or for hours | Loki | Loki/Mobius | 1,677 words | “What the shit are you doing?” Mobius hisses, and Loki— Loki is tired.
touch-a, touch-a, touch-a, touch me | Stranger Things | Steve/Eddie | 2220 words | “God,” Steve murmurs into Eddie’s mouth. “You look— I cannot deal with how you look right now.”
these, our bodies, possessed by light | Shades of Magic | Holland/Kell/Lila, Athos/Holland | 2,134 words | Holland tells her simply. “I want to go home.”
this house says your name like an elegy | The Untamed | Song Lan/Xiao Xingchen/Xue Yang | 6768 words | “Good night, ghost,” he says. “We can play tomorrow.”
Best story I wrote this year:
In my opinion? into the unknown was the only fic that I was TRULY proud of this year. Which isn't to say that the others were awful, but into the unknown was my passion project of the year. I saw a thing on twitter that made my brain go ping, and I sat down and said, yknow what, I'm going to write political marriage Ganondorf/Zelda. And then, I went, yknow what would be great? If we added Link, poly, and a great heaping pile of yearning. And it was! Great that is! It was fun to write and I'm really glad that I put it out there.
What’s your favorite story this year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you the happiest.
Honestly, into the unknown IS probably my favorite - BUT! A very close second is for years or for hours, which I wrote after watching the Loki finale a totally chill amount of times. I couldn't get over the idea of Loki and those timeloops, how lonely it must have been. How he could technically have everything that he wanted and then wipe the slate clean again hours later. I was also planning on writing another Loki fic, one where Sylvie and Mobius end up hooking up and living? traveling? together AFTER, but it just hasn't happened yet. Two people fucking because they're yearning for the same third is just catnip to me.
Okay, NOW your most popular story.
This is actually interesting because my stats are pretty wildly different for kudos vs hits. Normally they're at least in the same ballpark. BUT! for years or for hours was definitely my top fic as far as kudos go by a pretty wide margin, coming in 742 kudos, 217 bookmarks, and 2,397 hits. so damn sloppy (a title that i hated IMMEDIATELY after posting) comes in second when it comes to kudos at 239.
But! If you measure by hits- build your altar here, otherwise known as the excessively smutty reylo fic that i wrote actually comes in first. Which is... weird? But hey, what do I know. Numbers are bonkers.
Story of mine most underappreciated by the universe, in my opinion:
While I'm honestly always a little disappointed by the traffic my SXX Exchange and Yuletide fics get (I get it, they don't show up at the top of the page because they spend weeks unviewable before being revealed), I think my actual answer to this question is Ghost Story. It's one of the shorts that I did for my October challenge this year. 2.5k of Eddie waking up in the Upside Down undead, of him finding Steve's house and hesitating there on the threshold, of Vecna in his head, of him CHOOSING Kas as his own storyline, grasping at straws in the hopes that he'll be able to pull it off. I never go into something expecting kudos because that way lies madness, but I got... 11 kudos. No comments. And I don't know, that's always at least a little disappointing, but especially because I was proud of this one. I liked getting into Eddie's headspace in a horror setting. It was great! It was tragic! And I don't know, it just didn't get love. Such is life.
Most fun story to write:
Okay, so like. I wrote A LOT of smut this year. Almost every single fic that I wrote was either PWP, fix-it, or both. And almost every single one of them came easily (ha). The plot bunnies didn't fight me, they just happened. Which means that a lot of them were fun to write! The one where I got to work in Steve's breeding kink in the most hilarious way cracked me up. BUT! I got to write Steve/Chrissy/Eddie this year! I've been wanting to write it for ages and this year, for the first day of kinktober, I got to write Chrissy pegging Eddie while Steve fucks his face. That was just... an absolute dream.
Story that could have been better?
Maybe these, our bodies, possessed by light ? My Yuletide recipient's requests were of a crueltide variety. And I don't necessarily have an issue with writing that. I wrote it and I liked the end result, but where it comes down to it I'm still pretty uncomfortable writing non-con, even a character that is slowly healing from it. I do actually like how it ended. I think I conveyed what I wanted it to, the style was exactly what I was aiming for, I just haven't been able to shake the feeling that it could have been more. But if I'd made it happier or longer, I think I would have taken away from the point I was trying to make.
Story I wrote to fix things:
Definitely the icarus to your certainty. Some of the others are fix-its in the sense that certain characters are alive, others are fix-it fic not because they changed anything about the canon but because of the sense of catharsis. But the icarus to your certainty was a fic that I've been wanting to write for a while, one where Thor and Loki meet again. I've told this story a couple different ways since End Game, but this one feels more complete because I used TVA Loki. It wasn't just me talking out of my ass about suspected ways that Marvel could fix it, it was about the exisiting character meeting back up with a post-Love and Thunder Thor and going hey, I'm here, I'm not the same brother you watched die, but I'm still a Loki, I still miss you, I know what you lost. I did write it before watching the finale, so there's probably at least one more Thor and Loki reunion fic in me, but we'll see.
Longest completed fic this year:
into the unknown was my longest this year at just over 8k.
Fandom you enjoyed writing for most this year:
The fandom that I wrote the MOST of was Stranger Things, because Steddie is still dogging me even now, more than a year later. And it is certainly the fandom that I enjoyed reading the most, but I also really loved playing in the Tears of the Kingdom sandbox.
Favorite character you wrote this year:
I did like writing Ganondorf in into the unknown a lot, but this pleasure has to go to Eddie. He's just so fun.
Most memorable comment(s) this year:
I really loved all the comments that I got on for years and for hours! The comments from my recipients for the SXX exchange and Yuletide were amazing! I got a comment on the Silena and Clarisse fic that I wrote well over a decade ago! I got an adorable comment on the monsterfucking fishsex one earnestly telling me to keep doing what makes me passionate, even if it's... yknow, fishsex.
But honestly, this comment that I got on Rubatosis takes the cake. It just completely blows my mind that even know, almost a decade after I wrote the fic, I am STILL getting comments on it. And not just the comments that other older fic of mine get, but comments that are so heartwrenchingly genuine, thanking me, weeping and happy about it. I actually did a reread of it after I got this comment and while I can see all the places that could be improved on, I'm just still so floored, so PROUD, that it's something that came out of my brain.
Fics you wanted to write but didn’t:
I DO have an entire graveyard of fics in my googledocs that I've started and haven't finished but, in no particular order:
the steddie one where they hook up pre-series when steve is still king steve and eddie is dealing at one of his parties
the steddie hitchhiking one
the steddie coffee shop one that no one asked for
the gloryhole steddie fic from kinktober
ugh the akuroku farmer's market one about being punk and then getting older
the bodyswap geraskier one
the ust filled one-shot of Jericho and Sam Lloyd from the Diviners
the random plot bunny i got after reading hell bent where i wanted to write alex fucking darlington after the howling
the cnc sxx fic
the uh, vaguely necrophiliac sxx one because xue yang is a freak
the *cough* incest ship one where they find out they're related while fucking and neither stops (i may have entertained this as a han/luke/leia one-shot)
the alex/jonas oxenfree one that i wanted to write as a yuletide treat
the anastasia/dimitri one that i wanted to write as a yuletide treat
Oddest story:
god, probably the breeding kink one. mommy don't know daddy's getting hot. it's not even super intense! i just feel like eddie would be absolutely IMPOSSIBLE if he found out that steve had a breeding kink.
Hardest story to do:
I did fret about this house says your name like an elegy a little. I kept getting stuck describing the house and had to force myself past it.
Easiest story to write?
Again, most of the fics came pretty easily this year. build your altar here may have been the easiest? I'd just finished love theoretically by ali hazelwood and while i'd always known they were a reylo i didn't realize that i'd actually read some of their fic! anyway, read a couple reylo fics for nostalgia and then realized that i wanted to write a free use fic. All 5k of it came out in one sitting, it was nuts.
Most mining of your own history in one story:
I don't think any of them? I mean, maybe so damn sloppy if you count the fact that i've actually been in a family video before, but other than that? yeah, nothing.
Themes, or absence thereof:
A lot of smut, tbh.
Where did you publish/archive your stories?
Ao3, as per usual. I didn’t crosspost too much this year.
Story I haven’t yet written, but intend to:
i REALLY want to write the steddie ones that i didn't write this year, specifically the hitchiking and the pre-series one.
Sexiest moment (excerpt):
He fucks Eddie breathless. The corset isn’t helping, the pearls like a collar around his throat. He wants Steve’s hand in his hair, wants to be fucked until it hurts, but Steve is so gentle with him.
There are tears in Eddie’s eyes when he finally surrenders, gasps quietly into the dark and says, “Please, harder.”
Steve doesn’t get a hand into his hair, but he does splay his palm out over the curve of Eddie’s throat, just under the pearls. The hold isn’t a tight one, his fingers loose enough that Eddie could slide right out of the grip if he wanted, but Eddie sobs a little, bucking up, wanting wanting wanting—
Steve fucks him harder.
.
“Would you like to have him first, then?” Ganondorf asks her, a low whisper in her ear, and her legs clench tight around him, making them both groan as his cock jostles between them.
“Please,” she says, and he makes a sound like a laugh, and pulls back, away, moving them so that he’s propped up against her headboard and she’s reclined against his front, her back hot where their skin touches.
Ganondorf makes an amused sound when Link hesitates, and his hands take hold of her hips and — mortifyingly — spread her legs open.
“Do you need me to tell you where it goes?” Ganondorf asks, almost conversationally, and Link narrows his eyes.
It’s not— there was a moment, when she was younger, when she’d thought of this. Of what would happen if she could just take what she wanted. If she could have Link on his back in the hay of the palace stable or if he’d ever bear her down into the fragrant grass of Hyrule Field.
It was a silly dream. A girl’s dream. She’d never imagined this, her husband holding her open as Link pushes into her, but perhaps that was a good thing. She’d been an excitable girl.
He makes a noise when he first pushes into her that she’ll remember forever, even if they never get to do this again — a slight hitch in his breathing, like a hiccup, then a moan so soft it’s almost a whine. They are green, untested, so very new to this. She’s wanted this for so long and so hard that it doesn't even hurt. The rhythm is rocky and awkward when they start, but Ganondorf helps them find it quickly, his hands reaching out to steady Link's hips, coaxing him into a better pace.
It is perfect, even if it wasn’t what she’d dreamed. She gets to bury her face in his neck the way she’d wanted then, gets to hitch her legs up around his hips and clench him tighter, deeper, his fingers threaded with hers.
But it is over too fast, and her eyes are wet when he goes still inside of her. It’s too much. It’s not enough.
Ganondorf gives them a minute, lets her shake, lets Link breathe. She hadn’t expected patience from him, but then, there’s a great many things about this night that she hadn’t expected.
“Okay,” she tells him when Link is collapsed backwards beside them, watching with hazy eyes as Ganondorf turns her to face him. His cock is between them, hard against her belly, and it’s so big that for a moment, she wonders if she’s ready for it. She can feel Link’s spend licking the insides of her thighs and knows that Ganondorf can feel it too.
She looks at Ganondorf, chin held high, and says, “I’m ready.”
He is big.
His cock inside of her is such a tight fit that her breathing goes ragged as he’s fitting it into her. She’s sweating all over and it’s so much that she worries it will break her, that she’ll never be the same again. Link had felt good inside of her, a perfect fit, no pain, just frissons of pleasure up and down her spine as he moved inside of her, but this — this is nearly too much.
“It’s okay, princess,” Ganondorf tells her, petting her back once he’s completely inside. “You did good.”
.
Against all odds, the noise is what wakes her. She would have thought— well, she would have thought that she’d have woken to other things. The gentle rocking of the bed. The weight on her hips. Rey had assumed that if anything were to wake her, it would have been that first slow press inside her — her body yielding slowly to the blunt press of him between her legs.
However it happened, the noise is what wakes her. She surfaces slowly, first latching onto the sound of the rhythmic thumping of the headboard striking the wall over and over again before her brain wakes enough to take note of the rest of it.
She’s warm, that’s the second thing that she notices. Most of the time, Rey wakes with her fingers and toes freezing, and she’ll have to spend the first thirty minutes of her morning huddling for warmth beneath her blankets. This morning though, she’s overly warm, her blood already running hot, her chest and belly slick with sweat.
That’s when the rest of the details come to her. The heavy breathing above her. The warm sticky skin pressed to the bare stretch of her back. The creaking of the bed. Her own shallow breathing, little noises escaping her even as her brain comes fully back online. And of course, the feeling of a cock stretching her wide. She must have been wet, she thinks hazily, still halfway between waking and dreaming. Had she been dreaming? Or had he put his mouth on her before he’d bullied his way inside? They hadn’t really discussed the mechanics beforehand, only their wants and limitations. She’d wanted this, she remembered confessing. This specific thing, mentioned in the late hours of the night, her face flushed.
But he’d done it. She hadn’t thought that he would.
She’s still sluggish, but her body is already lighting up from the touch. Already awake and responsive, even as Rey starts to slowly stretch, her toes curling against the sheets as her palms scrabble for a grip to ground her. Ben rocks into her again, a particularly deep thrust, and a noise punches out of her, shocked and urgent.
She hears a chuckle from above her, and then his mouth is dropping to press against the sharp blade of her shoulder, lips dragging indulgently across her skin.
“Good morning,” he whispers, his own voice gritty with sleep. She whines under him, her fist finally getting a hold on the sheets, and he laughs at her openly, rewarding her with a particularly ruthless grind of his hips, pressing so deep that she rocks forward into the pillows.
He works a hand into her hair, and she’s— god, it’s so much so fast that she’s actually dizzy from it, so when he drags her up to her knees, she’s reeling, wobbly like a newborn animal. Her breath catches in her throat, her stomach tensing as he slides his palm down to cradle the shallow dip of her pelvis.
She doesn’t have to enjoy it, that wasn’t part of the bargain. The deal was anytime, anywhere— within reason, of course. She’d thrilled at the idea of it, imagining him bending her over the back of the couch, over the kitchen counter, imagined crawling into his lap during one of his shitty zoom calls and having him like that, where any one of his sleazy corporate overlords could hear her panting for him if he decided to unmute them.
She hadn’t thought that this would be his first move on the chessboard, that less than 24 hours after shaking on it she would wake to him inside of her, stretching her wide, the very first thing that she’d told him she wanted.
Anything, though. And just because she hadn’t imagined this happening the morning after they discussed it does not mean that she can’t enjoy it.
He fucks her hard and fast after that, as if her coming awake beneath him has made him desperate for it. Her scalp aches under his grip, but the pull is a good one. She’s wet and aching, his cock so good, pressing so deep— she’d forgotten what it was like, what he could be like.
She makes a noise, something quiet and pleased, and he must like it because he moans for her, his grip turning harsher, his thrusts more punishing. She wants to ask him for it, wants to tell him harder, but he hasn’t said that she can talk yet, so she bites her lip and holds on for dear life.
He comes inside her, letting out a long and guttural groan, his hips pressed flush against hers.
She’s trembling and she doesn’t want him to pull out yet, wants to come with him still inside her, but doesn’t—
“Touch yourself,” he tells her, his voice strained, cock still buried to the hilt inside her. She lets out a breathless little sob, already reaching, and it barely takes more than the press of her thumb to her clit before she’s coming, so hard that knees go out from under her. She bites down hard on her pillow to muffle the helpless little keen that makes its way out of her.
Crackiest moment (excerpt):
Eddie is giving him shit when it happens. It’s been a little over a half hour since Eddie turned to him, bored and pouty about it, and asked if Steve wanted to fuck him.
“Obviously,” Steve could pretend that he’d replied, because that was smooth and cool, and not the reality of the weird grunting noise that he’d made in response, as if his brain had briefly forgotten that it was human and not still ape.
Eddie had snorted, but forgiven him this, and Steve had gone to work dutifully, because the reality of getting to fuck Eddie was still new and visceral. But then here they are, well past foreplay, and Eddie is giving him shit, cracking jokes, and Steve is still somehow completely hard. Which is to say, Steve is buried all the way inside of Eddie, balls flush against his sweaty ass, and absolutely breathless with laughter, trying to muffle the sound of it into Eddie’s shoulder when Eddie throws his head back theatrically and moans, “Yes, daddy, yes. Harder, please. Yes, Steve, put a baby in me already.”
And it’s—
He’s joking. Neither of them ever get even close to brushing against their mutual daddy issues. It’s a joke, the same way that the theatrical porn star moans he’s been driving Steve crazy with for the last half hour have been a joke. The same way that his nicknames getting more and more absurd every month is a joke.
But Steve’s breath — it catches. He’d been halfway through another shaky thrust, tears still in his eyes, and then, at Eddie’s words, his movement stutters. He doesn’t quite gasp, but his exhale comes out shaky, a nervous huff of a noise.
Eddie goes still under him. He twists, peering around his own shoulder at Steve, his eyes wide and dark. He blinks and asks, “Really?”
.
“Fuck,” Eddie says again, voice thready. Steve tugs on his hair again, just enough to hear him hiss. “Just— Christ, Steve. Fuck me, already. Fill me up, put a baby in me or whatever weird hetero bullshit your brain has a boner for, just do it.”
Steve’s breath catches, his brain abruptly knocked offline. He doesn’t— later, he’ll try to wrap his brain around why this works for him. Try to figure out whether it’s the daddy issues, the unspoken desire for a kid, or just the idea of filling Eddie up with his come, but in this moment, the only thing that he can think of is those words in Eddie’s mouth, the reality of what he’s about to do.
Steve’s a good, smart boy. Smart about this, at least. He likes to have sex. He’s safe about having sex. Even with Nancy, he’d never—
He fucks Eddie until he’s wailing, working his way up from the slow grind. Short, slow strokes, hard and deep. Harder, a little faster. It’s so much harder to fuck Eddie right like this, but it’s so intimate, tucked so tightly together that he can’t make himself move.
“Please,” Eddie is saying, and Steve isn’t even sure if Eddie’s aware that he’s talking out loud. He’s got his head buried in his arms, his body rocking forward every time Steve fucks into him, and his voice is throaty, his body shaking with every thrust.
“Please Steve,” he gasps, breathless, sweaty. He lets out an uneven moan at Steve’s next thrust, hard and deep, just the way Eddie likes it. “Do it, just do it, pump me full of your come, do it, please.”
Favorite dialogue (excerpt):
“Good morning, Princess,” Ganondorf tells her, still smiling. “That isn’t your usual guard.”
“No,” she tells him, and leaves it at that.
He hums thoughtfully, his eyes going to the guard again, and for a moment, she thinks that he may press the matter, as if it’s any of his business where Link may be, but after another moment, he drops it, leaving it with a polite nod.
They watch the birds in silence for some time.
Ganondorf, as it turns out, has a bag of feed with him, which he offers her when the robins have finished what's on the ground and turn to eye them expectantly.
She dips her hand into the bag, delighting in the cool press of seeds against her knuckles, and comes out with a palmful, which she gently tosses to the grateful birds. As she watches, a few more descend.
“Do you come to this spot often?” Ganondorf asks as she brushes the lingering kernels from her hands.
She looks at him, wondering if she should say. If he does mean her harm, this place that she only comes to when she means to be alone would be a delightful place for any would-be kidnapper. But, on the other hand, if he is to be her husband, he will learn soon enough.
“Yes,” she tells him, reaching to brush her knuckles across the rose nearest her, the last few drops of morning dew clinging to the downy softness of its petals. “I love this place.”
“It is lovely,” he says. “Quiet, peaceful. I was happy to find a place to myself.”
She turns to look at him, curious despite herself. “Do you have a place like it? Back home?”
Ganondorf is still watching the birds, but as she speaks, he turns to her, his expression soft.
“I do,” he says, sounding pleased. “We have orange trees growing in what passes for our garden. They grow in a small alcove tucked away from prying eyes. There’s a fountain there. It’s peaceful.” He seems to hesitate, then adds, “They smell divine when they’re in bloom. Perhaps one day I can show you.”
“Perhaps,” she replies, for politeness sake. She is her father’s only heir. He would never let her venture out into the desert, not even if she had all the guards in Hyrule with her.
Perhaps, she thinks, when she is queen. If her husband has not attempted a coup by then.
They have drawn an entire flock by now, not only robins, but jays and turtle doves. They bicker amongst themselves for the seed, their chatter light and easy. She only wishes that her entire day could be this quiet.
“Are you looking forward to the feast tonight?” she asks, only half listening as she watches one of the larger jays wallop one of the doves with its wing.
“I never look forward to feasts,” Ganondorf tells her gravely, which surprises her enough that she lets out a sharp bark of laughter.
When she’s done laughing, she looks at him, tears in her eyes, and confesses, “Neither do I.”
.
“Looking for your knight, princess?” Ganondorf whispers out of the corner of his mouth. He doesn’t duck his head towards her, but there’s a barely noticeable tilt to his head that means he wants to, that he wants his lips pressed right up against her ear, where he can speak truly to only her. The whisper, she thinks, will have to suffice.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she whispers back, her eyes finding Link’s even as the words leave her mouth. He is watching them, but there’s a faint crack in his mask, a flash of pain bare on his face for all of Hyrule to see before he catches her looking and schools it into careful blankness once more.
Ganondorf chuckles, a warm rumble that she can feel through her entire body, from head to toes.
“Of course, you don’t,” he tells her, something faintly mocking in his voice. It makes her hackles go up, spine straightening as she lifts her head to look at him.
He is looking down at her now, and on his lips is a smile that she hasn’t seen from him yet. It isn’t the soft private smile from this morning, nor is it the polite smile that he gives her father and the rest of court. This is a strange smile, just for her, and it appears entirely genuine.
“Are you mocking me, sir?” she asks him.
“Perhaps,” he tells her, unexpectedly lifting her into a spin. She reels, a bit dizzy when he sets her back onto her feet. He smiles again, as if he’s laughing at her, and ducks his head to whisper in her ear, “Is it working?”
She blinks hard, finding Link over his shoulder again.
“Is what working?” she asks breathlessly.
She can feel his smile against her ear, the feel of it curving upwards. She shivers.
His lips move against her ear, his breath warm against her throat. “Am I making him jealous?”
She flinches. Not hard, but just enough to make her misstep. She corrects herself, but people have already seen.
There will be whispers. Rumors.
She huffs, and looks away from him, careful to keep her gaze away from Link.
“I told you,” she says coolly, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He laughs again, but obligingly straightens, taking his mouth far out of her reach.
They dance in silence until the music stops.
Favorite lines (excerpt):
“You can, you know,” Mobius tells him, and Loki wants to ask what, wants to ask if that’s freestanding permission— to take anything he wants, anything he needs.
“Can I?” Loki asks, his voice a rasp in the dark.
Mobius nods, his nose sliding against Loki’s. He’s holding his breath, Loki thinks, and that won’t do. Loki needs him to breathe.
He kisses him.
Mobius makes a thin noise, like he hadn’t really expected Loki to do it, then something heavier as his mouth slides open under Loki’s.
Loki reaches, curling his fingers against Mobius’s cheek, pulling him closer, until they’re almost on top of one another. Loki wants— he wants a great many things. He wants to kiss Mobius until his breathing goes erratic. Wants to crawl backwards onto the desk and let Mobius have him there, just like this. Wants to touch him all over, map out every square inch of his body until Loki knows every whorl of hair, every wayward freckle.
“Mm,” Mobius hums as Loki breaks the kiss. Their lips make a wet sound as they separate. The sound of it is thrilling. It makes him want more. Mobius clearly is on the same page, his eyes flickering open slowly, watching Loki through slitted eyes. As Loki watches, he smiles and asks, “Feel better?”
He does, actually.
The panic is ebbing, his heart regaining its normal rhythm, his vision no longer tunneling. He doesn’t feel as out of control now, like time itself is slipping away from him.
Loki licks his lips, ignoring the way that Mobius’ eyes linger on his mouth, and nods. He leans in for another kiss, this one shorter. He is very aware of the light of the loom, going ever brighter outside the window. Not long now.
“Don’t worry about it,” Mobius tells him, leaning smugly back against the computers when Loki has finished with him. He looks rumpled. His hair askew, his lips bruised. Loki wants to wreck him.
“Don’t worry about what?” Loki asks, distracted.
Mobius jerks his head towards the loom, the timelines, the constant writhe of them against the blackness of the void. “That. Don't worry. You’ll get it right next time.”
Loki hisses, his head jerking up. He meets Mobius’ laughing eyes. Says, “When did you figure it out?”
Mobius shrugs, flashing Loki a look. “You didn’t get that good at physics overnight, Loki. Come on. How long have you been at this?”
Loki doesn’t know. Not really. He’s lost count. Lost count quickly even. “Too long.”
Mobius eyes him. He’s still reclined back against the computers, his elbows planted firmly under him, legs slightly splayed. Loki can see the length of him, hard in his slacks. It’s tempting. He is tempting. If they had more time, then maybe—
Mobius is still watching him, like he can see Loki's every thought printed out and set before him in real time. Who knows, maybe he can.
“Next time,” Mobius tells him, like a promise.
The light outside the window is growing brighter, the rattling of the entire structure around them getting louder.
Loki breathes.
“You won’t remember,” Loki says, feeling a tug of… something at that. Hurt, maybe. Grief, perhaps— for this version of Mobius that his hands have touched, this version who won’t exist five minutes from now.
“Maybe not,” Mobius tells him with an unconcerned shrug. “But I can promise you I’ll be receptive.”
Loki snorts. “That sure of yourself, are you?”
Mobius’ smile goes soft, secret. A little sad around the edges.
“With you?” he says. “Always.”
.
Ganondorf is enormous, well over seven feet tall and thick with heavy, corded muscle, the bulk of him great enough that in the months prior to his arrival, the castle staff had seriously considered widening several doorways around the castle. And while she is glad to know that he is able to fit through their doorways without issue, his size is… intimidating.
His hair is swept up into a glinting gold crown, the color a deep russet red that’s several shades darker than the rest of his kin. He's bare from the waist up, his naked torso heavily adorned, golden hoops in his ear lobes, a heavy looking necklace of gold and ruby draped around his throat, intricate designs swirling down to just above his navel. Delicate chains link the neck piece to golden cuffs squeezed tight around his biceps and then, even further down, another pair of arm guards that run from forearm to wrist. There is even, she realizes, her face going red, a pair of simple golden hoops through two brown nipples. They glint back at her in the afternoon light, mocking.
Zelda, who had missed the first of the introductions during her inspection of her betrothed, blinks hard, head jerking up when she hears her own name echoing through the chamber. She turns towards her father, who is looking back at her expectantly. She has no idea what he’s said, but she can guess.
She clears her throat, stepping forward until she is at the very edge of the dais. Her eyes find Ganondorf’s.
His eyes are warm. Gold. There’s intelligence there – slyness and cunning, yes – but even as the force of his gaze holds her in place, she recognizes something more there. A challenge. The potential for cruelty, perhaps. It will be a game, she thinks, looking at him. He will do his duty. He will wed her and unite their peoples, even swear fealty to Hyrule. And yet, she’s somehow sure that he will spend the rest of their lives testing her, looking for cracks in her armor, waiting and watching for a chance to usurp her throne.
She watches as he goes down to one knee before her, and finds her mouth wet as he reaches for her hand, saliva pooling against her tongue. Suddenly, she is very aware of everything. Her father beside her. Link at her back. Ganondorf’s kinsman watching her with a careful blankness masking their curiosity. There are wolves in the castle and they are hungry.
“Hello, Princess Zelda,” he says, mouth quirking upwards into something that’s more smirk than smile. His voice is warm, smooth like liquid honey.
“Ganondorf,” she makes herself say, willing her voice not to waver as she gives an estimation of a curtsy. It isn’t quite proper, but it is within the polite boundaries of etiquette. No one will be able to fuss.
His smile grows as his gaze flicks over her right shoulder, to where she knows Link is standing. She cannot allow herself to look, but she can guess that Link is likely standing there, his face carefully blank, the perfect soldier. She wonders what drew Ganondorf’s attention – a tightening of Link’s fingers around the hilt of his sword? A flicker of an expression around his mouth?
Whatever it is, Link holds Ganondorf’s attention for several long moments. Zelda can feel her hand begin to sweat against Ganondorf’s palm and longs to withdraw it. Then, Ganondorf’s smile goes a touch crooked, showing teeth, and still holding Link’s gaze, he ducks and presses his lips to her knuckles. Only then does he return his gaze to hers.
“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Ganondorf tells her, releasing her hand at last. Zelda can feel the burn of his lips against her skin, warmth blossoming outwards, sending seeking tendrils crawling down her wrist. She has to fight the urge to hide her hand behind her skirts.
She swallows again and makes herself smile, even as a shiver runs through her. “The pleasure is all mine.”
.
A hand touches her elbow and she flinches, expecting Link, but when she turns, it’s Ganondorf. He’s looking at her seriously, his heavy brows knotted. There is no calculating or cruelty on that face, only understanding.
“Wife,” he says, and that’s a little stab of agony as well, knowing that it is done, knowing that she is as good as shackled to the man next to her. “We don’t have to do this tonight.”
Her head jerks up, mouth parting. She’d expected cruelty, she realizes, looking into his eyes. Never in her wildest imaginings had she thought that Ganondorf could be kind.
It is a sweet offer, but a barbed one, as well. Even if she were to put the night off – how long would he wait? A week? A month? Years? What if she never wished to bed him? Would he allow that or would he go to her father and declare the marriage contract null.
No, better to get this over with.
Zelda swallows and shakes her head. Her eyes go to Link, standing just to the left of Ganondorf. His face is like stone, still refusing to look at her. He will hold vigil, here at her door. He will… hear. She’s known that all along, but now, it’s like an arrow in her gut. She shouldn’t have kissed him.
There’s a soft sound in the hallway, a quick inhalation, and her eyes go to Ganondorf, who is looking down at her with something like realization. A knowing. Even a soft smugness.
“Oh,” Ganondorf says, voice thick with understanding. Her heart drops as Ganondorf looks between them, face creased. “It is like that, then. I had wondered.”
Link doesn’t look up at either of them, his jaw merely tightening as he stands straight under Ganondorf’s gaze.
Ganondorf laughs, a soft thing, colored with amusement, as he leans back against the door to her rooms. Light from Zelda’s candle glints off of his crown, off of the plate of gold laid over his chest. He’s still looking between them.
“Hm,” he says once he’s finished laughing, reaching for Zelda’s hand. She gives it to him, her heart hammering in her chest, and sucks in a quiet breath when he steps forward and gently draws her over the threshold to her rooms. He takes the candle from her, setting it into the waiting sconce, and looks back over his shoulder at Link, who is still stone-faced and silent at the door.
He quirks an eyebrow at him and says, “Well, aren’t you coming?”
Shock explodes across Link’s face, blue eyes going wide as a ruddy blush instantly colors his cheeks. His mouth drops, lips parting as a huff of surprise leaves him. He stares at Ganondorf, open-mouthed, the emotion bleeding back into him all at once.
He glances towards Zelda, as if looking to confirm what he’d just heard.
Zelda, who finds that her mouth is also open, only shakes her head in disbelief.
Link’s eyes go back to Ganondorf’s, only to dart away again, skittish.
Ganondorf chuckles again, stepping forward until he’s once again looming in the doorway. He cocks his head, as if curious, eyes running up and down Link’s body, heavy with intent.
“I will admit,” Ganondorf tells him, that same strange smile playing around his lips as he reaches out, brushing a wayward curl from Link’s face. “It’s been some time since I had a boy in my bed, but having the both of you won’t be such a hardship.”
He casts a glance over his shoulder towards her even as his palm slides up to cup Link’s cheek, an almost proprietary grip, his thumb coming to rest at the corner of Link’s mouth. She’s shocked to realize that she wants to see what would happen if Link opened his mouth and sucked it in.
Ganondorf must see something of her thoughts on her face, because he laughs again, louder, a rumble deep in his chest.
“What do you think, princess?” Ganondorf asks, cocking his head. His smile is wide, knowing. “Would having your young knight here with us make the marriage bed more palatable?”
Fic goals:
No goals this year, I don't think. Only to write what I want to write. And as per my resolution, work on the original work as much as I can.
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Single dad!Ari Levinson getting called to the school because his kid is having a rough day and the only thing the new teacher can think of is to call Ari. When he gets there and instantly begins to start comforting his kid, the new teacher can't help but swoon a little bit.
Aww that's so cute!!! I love dad!Ari 🥹
"Hey I'm here for Layla, is everything okay?" You heard coming from the door of your classroom and looked up to see Ari Levinson, Layla's dad.
"Yeah she's okay, just has been having a hard time today." You watch as Layla runs up to her dad and he immediately picks her up and starts soothingly bouncing her, his hand rubbing her back.
"Oh, yeah I'm sorry. She has these nightmares, they've been bad lately. It's okay bubba, daddy's got you." He whispers as he continues to bounce and rock the kindergartener, her little head tucked into his neck as she clings to him.
You can practically feel your eyes turn into hearts as you watch the encounter. Not all of the parents you met were good and kind, so it was nice to see such a caring interaction.
It didn't hurt he was so hot too.
"Do you wanna sit with her? The class just went to the music room, so you have plenty of time."
Ari nods and takes Layla to your rocking chair you use for storytime, and sits with her as he continues to soothe her.
She soon falls asleep in his arms as he stands up with a smile.
"Thank you for calling me. I think I'm gonna keep her home tomorrow for a long weekend, hopefully by Monday she'll be feeling better."
"Yeah of course, anything for her. The kids are what matters most."
And now it was Ari's heart's turn to warm up and pitter-patter. Layla's teacher sure was someone special.
ajsjdhfbf I love him sm 😭
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