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empoleon · 11 months

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stranger things have happened

• rated m, one shot, 3088 words

• also available to read here

Wolfwood is humming something against the fabric of Vash’s shirt—his shirt, because Vash has taken to wearing his articles of clothing as of late—when Vash speaks up.

“They like that,” he says softly, tilting his head back with a smile.

Wolfwood pauses, lips ghosting a kiss near the spot where he was singing. “’S just something I heard a long time ago.”

From the orphanage, but it goes unspoken. Vash is fairly certain it’s in Wolfwood’s mother tongue as well, but he doesn’t comment on it—bringing that up now would probably embarrass him enough to stop and Vash certainly doesn’t want that.

They're in bed together at some rundown inn—traveling too much with Vash in his current state puts a bit of a strain on both of them, so it’s easier if they make frequent stops. They just need to be careful. They have to be careful.

Wolfwood would never forgive himself if something happened to—

It’s almost unnerving to feel the faintest movement touch the skin of his cheek, stopping his train of thought immediately. It’s such a brief feeling and he almost questions if it actually happened, but Vash beats him to it.

“Nick, did you—?”

“Yeah,” Wolfwood glances up at him, unable to hide the awe in his voice. “He moved.”

150 years. A century and a half, and Vash did not know about this.

To be fair, there is a lot about himself that he isn’t aware of, either purposely brushing it off as a one-off occurrence or simply refusing to acknowledge it.

Plant anatomy wasn’t something he was keen to learn about. He understood his basic, primal needs and that was that.

Humans, on the other hand…

Cross-species breeding simply never came to mind. And even if it did, Vash was far too busy enjoying the feeling of Wolfwood on top of him, holding him close, whispering things he longed to hear—knowing that each spoken word was true—he loves you, all of you, every single piece of your being, every scar and blemish branded from God himself.

(He loves you.)

“Oi, blondie—you want to tell me why you dragged me out here again?”

The dim lighting in the old saloon feels suitable at this moment, one of the lights flickering idly. It’s noisy, overcrowded and Vash almost reconsiders his priorities.

“How ’bout a drink first?”

It’s not something Wolfwood refuses, but he eyes the glass of water that is placed on their shared table. It’s murky in color, with a few specks of dirt swirling around, but it’s better than what they have seen in the previous towns.

Wolfwood grabs his own glass, filled with a smooth amber tinge. “So,” he takes a swig and licks his lips. “What’s wrong?”

Vash wants to laugh. Leave it to Wolfwood to get straight to the point.

“Nothing! Well, mostly nothing,“ Vash gives him a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You know how it is.”

Except Wolfwood doesn’t know, with the way Vash keeps skirting around the topic at hand.

The alcohol in his system is beginning to warm him up, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d think Vash is about to say something unimaginable. It worries him.

There’s a ruckus outside the saloon that quickly enters through the double swing doors, men shouting unintelligible things—words like ‘bounty’ and ‘where is he?’ are all that Wolfwood needs to hear before he downs the rest of his drink and roughly grabs Vash by the arm.

“Hey, wait—I didn’t get to finish my drink!” Vash whines dramatically as he stumbles to his feet. One of the men arguing with another patron glances over towards them and Wolfwood curses.

“Damn it! Will you shut it?” He swivels around and pulls Vash into a corner of the saloon, trying to obscure the view of the humanoid typhoon from any onlookers. Miraculously, it works.

The commotion dies down after the barkeep threatens to drain the tap and close up for the evening. Those who initially caused the uproar either slip back out into the night or decide it’s time for a drink.

Vash really wishes he could have one right now, too. The water on the table may not taste great, but his throat has never felt so dry.

His arms find their way around Wolfwood’s waist, and he holds him there for a moment, in the corner of that saloon. The lights flicker again.

“I need to talk to you.”

“Guess he likes my voice,” Wolfwood smooths a hand against the swell of Vash’s belly.

“He?” Vash can’t hide the curiosity in his voice at the word, raising an eyebrow. “What makes you so sure?”

“Spikey, there is absolutely no way in hell you’re giving me a daughter,” Wolfwood states it so seriously that Vash starts to laugh. “I mean it. My heart won’t be able to take it.”

When he finally manages to tell Wolfwood what has been ailing him, he isn’t entirely sure what to expect, reaction wise.

Yelling or swearing? An average response, perhaps the best possible outcome, especially when it comes to the man Vash has known for so many years now. Calling him names falls under this category as well.

What he didn’t expect was the silence, or Wolfwood’s cigarette falling out of his mouth a second later.

“You’re—”

Vash nods, unable to say anything else. It’s hard to meet those dark eyes that are glued to his body.

“And it’s…” Wolfwood trails off, motioning to himself.

Another nod.

There’s a long pause before everything goes back to normal—whatever that actually is, Vash isn’t certain, but it feels like he can breathe again once Wolfwood regains his senses and finally says more than a few words.

“I thought you said we didn’t need to use condoms!” Wolfwood exclaims. “I asked you three times!”

Three separate times, in fact. Vash groans and runs a hand through his hair. “I mean, we don’t need to—we’ve never had—I didn’t think this was possible,” he settles on saying, because it’s true.

This was purely impossible, and yet somehow, after 150 years, his body finally decided it was time.

“With how often we fuck, I’m surprised this didn’t happen sooner,” Wolfwood mutters.

He’s not wrong, as embarrassing as it is to think about it.

“So…” Vash wrings his hands together, eyes flickering between Wolfwood and the cigarette that has long since been forgotten on the ground. He moves his boot to step on it, putting it out.

“So,” Wolfwood parrots, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Are you okay? With all of this, I mean.”

“Me?” Vash blinks, confused. “I guess so, I was mostly worried about—”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence before Wolfwood reaches over and pulls Vash into an embrace.

“Save it, blondie,” he says quietly. “You and I both know I’m fine with kids.” Wolfwood is also not wrong about that.

“That’s not what I asked you.”

Are you okay with this? Is this what you want?

“I—yeah,” Vash lets out a shaky breath. “I really am.” He wraps his arms around Wolfwood’s neck and buries his face into his shoulder. “Thank you, Nick.”

For everything.

A daughter… she would look just like you, Nick, Vash thinks to himself while Wolfwood continues to argue with him—with their child. And she would act like you, too.

“I don’t need two needle-noggins in my life,” he says sternly, but there’s a hint of amusement in his voice. “So please inherit some damn common sense—”

“I have plenty of common sense,” Vash interrupts him. “For example—”

Wolfwood scoots his hand up underneath Vash’s t-shirt and squeezes the warm skin of Vash’s hip with a rough hand, eliciting a yelp out of him.

“Don’t say another word,” he grumbles, “unless you want me to knock more of that so-called sense into you.”

Vash’s smile is everything devious in nature. “I would love to see you try.”

The first time Wolfwood sees just how different Vash is as far as humans go, he’s equal parts aroused and surprised.

“You really weren’t kidding,” he says while trailing a finger across the inner part of Vash’s upper thigh, tracing a scar that mars the skin there. It stops just short of what he could only describe as thin, petal-like folds, tightly wound and—quivering? “This is pretty freaky, spikey.”

“Don’t tease me,” Vash all but huffs as his body is out on display for him. One too many drinks later and they find themselves in yet another unfamiliar, yet all too recognizable inn bedroom.

It was easy for both of them to make it to this point—they always, always do, but this time it is different. It’s edging closer to something that neither one of them can turn away from.

Wolfwood grins at him. “Oh, I’m just getting started.”

“Can you—y-yes, right there,” Vash’s calves tighten around Wolfwood’s shoulders instinctively, hands gripping the bed sheets beneath him.

“Easy, Vash,” Wolfwood is a little breathless when he pulls back, a hand trailing along the metal of his prosthetic. “Digging into my neck a bit there.”

Vash almost immediately tries to sit up, looking extremely concerned. “Shit, I’m so sorry—”

Wolfwood carefully presses a hand to Vash’s lower abdomen, stopping him. “It’s fine, sweetheart,” he licks his lips. “Lie back down.”

His legs loosen a bit, this time more mindful of Wolfwood’s fleshy shoulders. Vash had insisted on leaving his prosthetics on, enjoying being able to anchor himself against his lover.

Wolfwood continues where he left off, nose brushing the inner, wetter petals that are waiting for him, taking in Vash’s scent with a soft inhale.

He flicks his tongue across them, watching as they unfurl and invite him into something far greater.

“Nick—” Vash arches his back with a groan. “More, I—”

“More what?” Wolfwood murmurs it against the opening of his slit, lips finding their way around the swell of a small bud that is nestled between it. “Full sentences.”

“More, please,” Vash’s voice trembles, “Don’t fucking stop.”

“Language, sweetheart,” Wolfwood presses a kiss to the bud, nips at it gently with his teeth and proceeds to curl his tongue around it.

He sucks long and slow, far too slow for Vash’s liking, evident in the way he hears another groan come from him.

Vash’s hand reaches for Wolfwood’s hair, tugging as he rocks his hips closer.

“Oh, Nick,” he gasps this time and Wolfwood is certain that he’s close, noticing how the room begins to glow a touch brighter.

Seeing those intricate patterns spark to life across various parts of Vash’s body ignites something truly deep within Wolfwood, far deeper than any spoken word of some higher being he could imagine.

They dance across scarred legs, skipping over pieces of well worn beryl-infused metal, trailing up Vash’s torso, his neck—

Vash shudders when he comes, fingers flexing into Wolfwood’s hair, purposefully forcing the man to stay put between his legs.

Not that Wolfwood would have ever minded.

He laps up everything that Vash gives to him and tries to coax out even more with his mouth, relishing the sweet taste that hits his tongue.

“Still with me, darlin’?” Wolfwood breaks away from him with a quiet gasp. He brings a hand up to his lips and wipes at it, grinning.

“Uh-huh,” is the only coherent response he gets, Vash’s body going limp with bliss. “’S good, Nick, you’re so good.”

“Preaching to the choir, I see,” Wolfwood runs a hand up Vash’s thigh, tracing along the intricate plant markings and noting how they shimmer brighter with each touch. “Let’s see what else that pretty mouth of yours can do.”

“How did the appointment go?” Wolfwood eventually asks, moving up to settle beside Vash. “Did Brad ask about—”

“The feathers,” Vash nods and sighs quite dramatically. “It was going so well, too, but then I sneezed and everything just,” he lifted up both his hands and spread his fingers, metal and flesh flexing wide, “Exploded?”

“Exploded?” Wolfwood can’t help but laugh. “Our child is already a menace, I can't believe it.”

One morning Vash had awoken to small, downy feathers attempting to sprout from his shoulders and forearm—the last time that happened, any time that happened, actually, was when they—

Well. Vash definitely didn’t relay that information to Brad, but he didn’t try to hide any of his bodily changes when he went for his most recent checkup.

Luida suspected it had something to do with the pregnancy—that energy, a life, now being constantly generated from within him. He was bound to have some… interesting side effects.

“I couldn’t believe it,” Vash says after a moment. “You should’ve seen the look on Brad's face when it happened though, or the room,” he pauses and glances at Wolfwood with a smile. “Completely covered in feathers.”

Wolfwood snakes an arm across Vash’s chest, moving to rest his head on his shoulder. “Bet he loved that,” he closes his eyes. “Glad everything went smoothly, blondie. I should be able to come next time.”

Vash turns his head and presses a kiss to Wolfwood’s hair. “Luida would like that. She’s been dying to see you again, you know.”

“More like dying to have someone help out around the ship,” Wolfwood sighs, but there’s no malice in his tone. “Say, next time we visit…” he lowers his hand down Vash’s chest, stopping pointedly at his stomach. “They’ll be able to tell us what the little sprout is, yeah?”

Vash’s small intake of breath doesn’t go by unnoticed and it causes Wolfwood to sit up, getting a better look at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Well—” Vash starts to say, but closes his mouth promptly.

“Wait,” Wolfwood reaches over to the side of the bed and suddenly the room is illuminated by the warm glow from the lamp. “Vash, don’t tell me you—” he glances back over at him and studies his face for a moment in silence. Vash desperately wishes Wolfwood wasn’t so damn good at reading him for once.

“You already know, don’t you?”

Vash groans and brings a hand up to his face. “It was an accident, Luida brought it up before I could stop her. I’m so sorry, Nick.”

Wolfwood exhales and slumps back against the pillows. “Unbelievable.”

Vash attempts to roll over to face him, being on his back for so long starting to become a bit uncomfortable. “Nick?”

Silence.

“Nicholas,” Vash pouts—he definitely has no right to do so, but he can’t help it. “I can just tell you, would that make it better?”

“No,” Wolfwood sighs. “I still want it to be a surprise.”

“I can act surprised when she tells us!” Vash says with enthusiasm. Wolfwood gives him a withering look. “No? Okay, okay,” he frowns, “it was worth a shot, though.”

“You are a complete needle-noggin idiot, you know that?” Wolfwood reaches over to flick Vash’s head. “And… it’s all right, don’t worry about it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Wolfwood stresses the fact with a poke to Vash’s cheek. “I can wait a few more weeks. You better not bring it up on accident, though, or else—”

“I won’t! I promise, scout’s honor!”

Wolfwood is a lazy kisser—Vash used to tease him for it, but it wasn’t as though he was much better—or had any practice.

And they really did have the time now for these sorts of things.

He sighs as Wolfwood peppers a trail of kisses up his chest, taking his time with each scar and meld of flesh and metal his lips come past.

“Nicholas,” Vash’s voice is light, full of warmth. “I thought you said— oh!”

Wolfwood captured his mouth with ease, stopping whatever teasing comment that was about to be said.

His lips are chapped, but still somehow soft, warm—Vash has half a mind to point that out, but Wolfwood won’t allow it with the way his mouth is working.

Vash gives in and sighs into the kiss, tugs him closer, prosthetic fingers raking through Wolfwood’s hair. It’s enough of an incentive to keep going, by any means.

Even if there is shouting outside the inn bedroom’s window, or the ringing of a few gunshots sounding off in the lingering desert air.

Vash breaks the kiss to turn his head, ignoring how Wolfwood sets his aim for his throat.

“Should we go—mmh,” Vash tries to suppress a moan, unsuccessfully, “check that out?”

Wolfwood pauses, lips lingering near Vash’s collarbone. “During the middle of this?”

He has a point.

And to further express said point, Wolfwood slowly rocks his hips along Vash’s thighs.

“You’re right,” and Vash can’t believe he’s saying it with a smile on his face, one that Wolfwood can’t see from this angle, but knows that the man can feel.

The whole room is lighting up, after all.

“It can wait,” Vash decides, and Wolfwood takes him.

One minute of silence passes between them, and then two.

“Okay, I can’t do this,” Wolfwood rolls over to face Vash. “’M not going to be able to sleep unless I know.”

Vash is unable to restrain himself from laughing. “Really? Surely there’s something in your good book about rewarding patience.”

“Always be humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love,” Wolfwood recalls the passage in a low voice. “I think I’ve been pretty gentle lately, all things considered.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Vash agrees, amused. “Not so humble, though. Might need some brushing up on that.”

Wolfwood slides a bit closer to Vash. “Good thing we’ll have some down time for the next couple of months then—I could use some practice.”

“I happen to know an excellent teacher,” Vash says. He feels Wolfwood snake an arm across underneath the blankets, reaching for his shoulder to pull Vash in an embrace.

“If you say Brad, I swear to fucking God—”

Vash’s huff of laughter is the only response Wolfwood gets before a pale hand beckons him closer.

Even in the now-quiet of the room, Vash’s whisper to his ear is perhaps the softest thing Wolfwood has heard in a very long time.

He can’t help his too sudden reply, his own voice on the verge of cracking. “Really?”

Vash nods. “Yes, really.”

And if Wolfwood hid his face in the crook of Vash’s neck, eyes filled with a dampness that threatened to spill over and unable to say anything else except a murmured ‘thank you’—

It was enough.

#trigun #trigun stampede #vash the stampede #nicholas d wolfwood #vashwood #fanfic #fic #texte #my writing #hewwo friends long time no motherfuckin see am i right LOL #man. wow. it has really been a hot minute since i've last wrote something #trigun kinda took over my brain (not complaining tho)#i don't really have many pals who are into the series atm so i'm just yodeling into a void by myself tbh #anyway i posted this to ao3 the other day and figured i should cross post it here too #title is unabashedly from the foo fighters and yes it's in my wv playlist #nobody asked but i'm saying that much #these 2 guys r so fucking!!!!!!! TRAGIC #i just want them to have a family. god bless the plantussy #ok i am going now perhaps i will return? with more fics? we shall see #love & peace 2 u all <3

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xiathiau-myshif · 6 months

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Seeing some super NSFW fic on ao3 with "by [author] for [person]" on it just seems like the biggest tattle ever

#ao3 #fanfics #like really #“hey guys heres my newest fanfic”#“its about vore and piss”#“its for my friend who i am going to now name in the title”#“that way theres no way anyone can miss it”

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adhdslugcrimes · 6 months

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I'mma say this for future fic recommendations, last anon gave me a good one but forgot to warn me about a few tags I wasn't expecting because,,, I don't read tags or anything when reading fics, my dumbass doesn't filter tags I just put the ship name in and go a reading form the top to bottom and I don't have many triggers but would be nice because I'm not gonna read tags, or titles,,, or author I'm so bad at this and it's my own fault but so it clear please tell me what I'm to expect if you recommend me anything lol

#sluggy is not smart #ive read so many fics yall and my dumbass forget the good ones because i don't look at titles worth shit #only ones i do is like tabby or taxi #skeletoninyourcloset too #or friends #.... okay so mutuals and friends i know lol #friends being Nebby ren-ren and kai since i have their ao3 accounts #i should look at tags but i don't brain not smart

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sexynetra · 3 months

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hi i’m back also 6, 17, 23, and 24 for beloved sitcty xoxoxoxo

Time to remember writing sitcty!!! Wish me luck <33333

6-- What's the mood or emotion you most like to evoke with your fic or AU? How do you try to evoke it?

I think… longing? And in love? I really wanted to show how much it was affecting Gigi having Crystal not be there for something so important and how hard the distance was, but also just… the kind of carefree all-encompassing love that works so well for crygi stories :)

17-- Does your fic/AU have a music playlist you associate with it?

I actually don’t have a playlist for this one??? Which is crazy I love making playlists :( but I listened to a lot of assorted playlists of songs that figure skaters have performed to at the past few Olympics, as well as an assortment of ABBA, with a particular focus on the Spanish language albums 😉 (iykyk)

23-- Give us one weird fact about your fic/AU.

The purple dress Gigi wears in competition is based on one of my favorite Olympic skating dresses ever, the butterfly dress Karen Chen wore for her free skate at the 2022 Olympics <3 it was designed and made by her mom and it is just. So breathtaking to me I love that dress so much <3

24-- What's a random piece of information about your fic/AU you want to share?

So someday there might be a spin-off about this if you play your cards right (if I stop being a big coward baby) but for now I will just say. Both Jaida and Nicky are competitive figure skaters in this universe. 😉 😘

#my best friend and I have discussed Jaida and Nicky’s story #but it has never made it to paper #anyways they weren’t at this Olympics for. reasons #but Jaida skates for America and Nicky skates for France BUT Nicky trains in the US at least part time #anyways #someday there will be more sitcty content because I still haven’t written your Drabbles and I am determined to #ask #asks #ask game #thecollectionsof #sitcty #somewhere in the crowd there’s you #I forgot the byline of the title #oops #it’s on the Ao3

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deadhoneybee · 3 months

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Scenes from a fic ill never write (im gonna chuck it at its own ones (1) and zeros (0) )

Its a college au, roughly 1k

———————————

It was almost half past twelve at night, remus was tucked into the couch with his computer in his lap and about four books laid out next to him. He’d been trying to finish this essay for three hours now and the words were starting to swim together.

He dropped his head in his hands and rubbed his face sighing out of frustration. He could finish it after class tomorrow. The door to the dorm creaked open and remus peeked through his fingers to see a very sloshed looking sirius.

“Welcome back then, i didnt think youd be here so soon” he closed his laptop and books, stacking them all on the coffee table.

“Yeah well” sirius just shrugged and pulled of his jacket, swaying as he tossed it on a kitchen chair to his right. Remus watched him carefully, a bit nervous he would topple over any minute. He thought about getting up to help but didnt move. Sirius was an adult, and he didnt need remus’ help, probably didnt even want it anyway.

Sirius just stood there by the door, staring straight at him. He could tell sirius was thinking hard about something and it made Remus squirm, he felt like he was in the hot seat and he wanted out.

“Remus, why dont you like me.”

What. That, was the last thing he expected to come out of sirius’ drunken mouth. What did he even say? He couldnt tell him the truth? That no he did like sirius, thought he was cool and talented and even a bit pretty because thats the whole problem, and up until ten seconds ago he was positive Sirius didnt like him. He still couldnt lie to him though..

Sirius stumbled into the living area and dropped into a bean bag on the floor. “Ya know.. cuz i like you. Alot. Think youre really cool even…” he stared at the ceiling tiles for a moment before dropping his gaze back to remus, who could hardly even form a proper sentence.

Oh. Oh no, Divert. Divert right now and digest it later, this is… too much theres no way sirius could actually enjoy his company. There just isnt.

“How pissed are you exactly?” He tried to sound as relaxed as possible but at that sirius scoffed, or maybe he hiccuped? Couldve been both.

“Not very, walked back all b’myself jus fine yeah?”this time it was remus that definitely scoffed.

“Youre joking, you walked back? Like this? Where was james?” Sirius shrugged his shoulders and looked like he was trying not to giggle “dunno. He was singing karaoke, at the bar? And then i was… not there.” Remus sighed and rubbed his face again. If sirius didnt request a new dorm mate in the morning then remus would be dead from the stress before first term was up.

“Yeah right well-“

“Remus whats your middle name?”

Remus pulled his hand down over his nose and mouth so he could look at sirius. His eyes were closed and his head was thrown back, he looked very concentrated and remus was just… very lost. “Im sorry what?”

“Youre middle” he stopped and hicuped again, tossing an arm over his eyes “name.. what is it?”

“Its john? Why?” There was not response for a second and he thought maybe sirius had fallen asleep until he loved his arm and opened an eye to look at him.

“Huh… so its just your first and last then?”

“Sirius, what on earth are you on about right now.” He groaned and sat closer to the edge of the couch, and sirius sat up, or well tried before giving up and sinking back into the bag with his both his eyes now trained on him.

“Your name obviously” he rolled his eyes like remus was the one making next to no sense. “Remus john lupin, means something like.. wolf john wolf right?” Very few people in his life had pieced that together, and he was not anticipating that this is where sirius was going.

“Um, yeah.. its a bit unfortunate really. My father is.. or um he was really obessed with wolves so.” He sighed and sagged back into the couch, cracking his knuckles in a nervous habit “I like it. Better then Sirius orion black anyway.” Remus didnt know what to say to that. He thought it was a rather nice name if he was honest, which he wouldnt be, not now at least.

“Can i call you wolfy?”

“Absolutely not. Never, would be preferred thanks.” Sirius scoffed and then laughed, something that sounded so light and care free and it made remus smile a bit. “Ill think of something else then, even though i was quite fond of that one.”

“You just thought of it, you cant be that fond of it already. Besides it was awful” sirius stuck his tongue out at him, smiling. “Yeah alright then, i will think of one though”

“As long as it doesnt have ‘wolf’ in it, i might be alright with that”

“Good.”

They sat for a moment like that, the occasional hiccup from sirius and tick of the old plastic clock on the wall. Its was just about one in the morning now and remus sighed. He looked over at sirius, now curled up on the bean bag. He seemed like he was about to fall asleep, his breathing soft and even and his hair haphazardly strewn about the back of the seat and his eyes.

“Hey sirius?” There was only a hum in response “dont you have an exam tomorrow at eight?” That got his attention, he opened his eyes and stretched out his legs

“Fuck. Yeah, and my professor is a right arse too.” He tried to push himself up a few times before throwing his head back and grumbling. “Mm, moonster, i dont think i can get up right now”

“That is not, dont call me that either.” He rolled his eyes and helped sirius to his feet, he was positive that hed said something in response but it was mumbled and incoherent. They walked back to their room, more remus walked and sirius stumbled. It was a wonder how he managed to make it all the way back like this, honestly.

He stopped at the edge of sirius’ bed and sat him down, neither of them said anything as he pulled himself up all the way and curled up ontop of the blankets with his back to remus’ side of the room. He just sighed and collapsed into his own bed, pulled his blanked up and over himself and stared at the ceiling.

He could hear sirius breathing slow and steady a few feet away, some shuffling, kicking, and then a thump on the floor. He turned his head and closed his eyes for a moment before he got back up and picked the duvet up off the floor. He draped it over sirius and just looked at him for a moment before whispering “i do like you, by the way..”

He walked into the kitchen and got a glass of water, dropped a few icecubes in it and walked back into their room placing it on sirius’ nightstand before dropping back into his own bed and rolling over to face the wall.

He thought he might have heard a small thank you before he fell asleep.

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ao3screenshotss · 3 months

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#title:#Hello Ocean My Old Friend #author:#CaffeinatedFlumadiddle #ao3 #ao3 funny #percy jackon and the olympians #nico di angelo #will solace #hades #apollo #poseidon #estelle blofis #athena

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pinkseas · 7 months

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girls will put an EXTENSIVE amount of thought and research into their next couple of planned fics and THIS IS THE THANKS THEY'LL GET FOR IT.

#aly.writing #i literally hate it here #the next 2 im working on i want to get ages solidly figured out and also itll just be helpful to give myself a timeline in general even-#-for stuff like boy best friends which'll be happening in the future #and the [redacted] fic which will be in the future also. and the other WIP which will be moreso in the past but ages are important #TECHNICALLY i shouldve done this for desiderium too to more accurately write characters like barbara and kaeya. because i wrote them at the #-age i consider them to be in my head frozen eternally instead of how old they'd be by the end of the traveler's journey which was-#-definitely a MISTAKE but hopefully/probably not a huge one? idk i definitely couldve done better but. i will going forward at least #kinda glad i decided to style the fic the way im styling it though #a) im gonna be forced to learn how to do Very Slightly Fancier things in ao3 to formet #b) i DO get to figure out ages and such just based on my own perception of the characters and itll be a good base timeline for what i write #actually fuck redacted im just gonna start tagging these as im talking about them so i dont have to go back and sort through later #30 seconds posting #aly grief fic #<- i can replace that tag w/ something better once i have a title for it rn i mostly just have the basics

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sairitaikutsu · 2 months

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chat i um

this the “*bewmm* the ‼️‼️🗣️” one. start eating

#yes ik the title is so unserious but cmon it’s funny #IF MY BF SEES THIS DO NOT CLICK. I BEG #mortal kombat #mortal kombat 1 #mk1 #mk1 2023 #fanfiction #ao3 #geras #liu kang #geras x liu kang #i need. serious help #i will post the other ones when im done #also it’s anon cuz my friend in school wants to read my smutfics but that’s fucken awkward likee 😭😭#he’s not even into gay ships he likes lesbian ships more

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pyrriax · 6 months

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i need to be normal. i cannot be normal. im not actually writing im just worldbuilding because i cannot get enough of little details that will never be relevant. im supposed to be writing down who has what and actually important details.

(however, perk: i can work on my phone now so i don't have to worry about the god-awful experience of emailing myself documents in the morning so i can actually use what i write elsewhere)

#haunted ecosystem #ALSO i came up with a proper-ish title for the main fic itself. anhedonia is the au. but i think artificial stars has a nice ring to it #also i swear this isnt a hero/villain au i just couldnt think of how else to label the difference between those.#i am promising myself this will not get out of control. ten chapters max. i dont care how many scenes per as long as the plot progresses #i need to foreshadow things properly for this. i need to like. augh. pain and suffering. plotting.#like i made the world now i have to actually Write about it. how do i explain that my brainrot for friend and foe lead to one of like.#one of the main guys is genuinely just. quiff. because i liked the silly duo him and clown have going there.#like i guess it sort of works? because like. it fully separates things. but like *also* what am i doing.#the things the people on ao3 dont get to know ^_^

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whom-to-kill-whom-to-let-live · 11 months

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Ah lads, I might have gone off the rails in my desperation for Legato fanfics and ended up writing my own.

#[Text]#[Fanfic]#Trigun #Legato Bluesummers #All three Legatos too can you believe that #english is not my first language please have mercy #neither is spanish I had a friend help me with the title #I've written about 3 chapters so far and am thinking about posting to Ao3 #they might be ooc but i'm working on it ok shhh this is me practising #me: complains that people can't write legato right #me writing legato: oh no this is hard #anyways imagine trimax legato and tristamp legato end up in the 98' anime legato's reality #but the first two are the tiny teen versions of him #why? because I think he looks cute in the crop top jacket ok #and also because I really wanted to make that pun in the title #there will probably be some knives/legato in there at some point bcs I am love them #if anyone wants to talk w me about this silly little fic feel free to hit me up #I'll do my best to figure out how communication works on this website

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akechi-gf · 2 years

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TAP AND TOUCH ME (I’M ALREADY IN YOUR WORLD)

saikechi oneshot, no tws/cws, but there’s a brief reference to akechi having been bullied

ONESHOT: It then hits Akechi that he and Saiki, despite having been in what he would consider a stable relationship of three months, have yet to go as far as kissing. It then hits him that he doubts he’s ever even held Saiki’s hand.

In the quiet, golden light of the late afternoon, Touma sits across from Kusuo. He's holding his breath, not even daring to part his lips to utter a word, far too caught in the appeal of what Saiki has just agreed to.

It's with amazement, a silent sort of reverence that isn't spoken through words yet still present in his thoughts, that Touma allows himself to reach a tentative hand out to Kusuo's impassive figure. As he makes contact with the soft wool of the other's sweater-clad shoulder, he's met with the solid give of strong arms- by no means were they defined and buff in the way that Hairo's were, but they held the responsibility of the human race with them, and Touma could feel the strength pulsing through Kusuo's unassuming frame.

He doesn't know what he expected. Prior to this moment, he had kept with the educated guess of Kusuo's back feeling stiff and stony, that of a statue made of marble or rock, aged by years and years of rain and weathering- he had once overheard Kusuo's mother speaking of it concernedly- but nothing could truly compare to the feeling of being completely safe and grounded when in contact with the psychic. (For a split second, Touma wondered if this was another power that Saiki possessed. Or maybe, it was just the knowledge that if any possible danger were to come, Saiki would only have to snap their fingers to protect him.)

Kusuo's expression doesn't change upon Touma trailing his hands up their shoulders to cup their cheek. Their skin doesn't flush, nor do the corners of their lips pull up in their once-in-a-blue-moon smiles.

"What a pain," They project their voice to Touma's awaiting mind.

Touma knows they don't mean it. They never mean it.

He lets his thumb trace the soft ridges of acne littering Kusuo's cheeks. Kusuo doesn't melt into his touch, nor do they turn into putty in Touma's hands. It wasn't as though Touma had expected them to. But they do lean in, the slightest infraction of weight, a soft, barely-noticeable tilt of the head, that makes Touma's heart bloom, his usually pale face burning to a deep pink flush.

They aren't letting their guard down. Touma doubts they ever will- he's well-aware that Kusuo is always on watch for any predictable danger, not letting up on their powers at all if they could help it. He knows that in terms of importance, Touma will always be second place when it comes to protecting a majority (said majority being the entire human race and the earth as we so know it).

And so Touma will settle for the quiet comfort of Kusuo's trust in the form of a tilted head, gentle eyes, and a soft quirk of the lip. This is the version of Kusuo that will live on forever, because this is the Kusuo that belongs wholly and entirely to him and him alone.

No doubt that Kusuo could hear the metaphorical 404 error that just went on in his head. It was obvious enough by the almost unimpressed stare that they level him with. Touma could not bring himself to feel embarrassed by it.

The feelings he felt for Kusuo were far too complex, too illegible to be entirely converted into comprehensible speech, and on more than one occasion, Touma was indubitably greatful for Kusuo's uncanny ability to decipher the alphabet soup mish-mash that was his mind. Even the smallest things were ones that they listened to, no matter how irrational or out of the blue they were.

"Kusuo-kun," Touma croaks out, voice soft and crackly and quieter than Kusuo had ever heard before.

Kusuo raises their eyebrow.

"Can you touch me, too?"

It is with a regretful downturn of Kusuo’s lips that Touma comes to understand: even if the psychic’s ungloved hands were to touch him, no good memories would come of it.

(Saiki knows this because they’ve tried before. In the dead of the night, brushing away a stubborn lock of hair that fell over Akechi’s forehead, all Saiki could think of was a stiff, black marker writing down ‘STUPID’ on an exposed patch of skin.)

#Saiki Kusuo no PSI Nan #saiki k #saiki kusuo #akechi touma #saikechi #saikechi angst #my writing #title from svt's song domino #oneshot #i might post this on ao3 i think #i fr need a beta reader i spent 30 minutes trying to get my friend to proofread and i ended up just posting it cuz they didnt want to

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