Some people in your life will travel miles to bury you.

But won't cross the street to support you when you're alive.

Goofy and erratic villian with an exasperated and somewhat uptight hero who has a crush on the villain? Maybe the villain says something vaguely flirty on accident and the hero has to pretend they don’t like it (and fails miserably)

“Come on.” The villain grabbed the hero’s hands and pulled them towards the dance floor. Eyes glinting, excitement filled up the villain. “Fight me.”

Utterly unimpressed, the hero just rolled their eyes.

“No interest.”

“That’s not very diplomatic of you. Refusing the enemy’s suggestion to resolve our issues? Come on, it’ll be fun. Just a little bit of combat.” They pulled the hero close, grip tight around them as they led the hero through the song. “Or are you scared?”

“We’re calling combat ‘resolving issues’ now?” Their eyes went through the crowd, concentrating. Professional. Obviously, the hero didn’t have time for their nemesis but the villain didn’t care.

At this point, they took whatever fell into their hands. The hero was a master at hiding, at avoiding people and the villain was not going to let them slip through their fingers that easily.

“It’s like couples therapy for crazy people, don’t you think?” the villain asked. They tried to redirect the hero every time they spotted the supervillain among the many millionaires.

Admittedly, the villain had been on their hands and knees when they’d discovered that the hero was going to be here. They’d begged the supervillain to take them with them and thank god, the villain had been assigned to distract the hero.

It was their favourite activity.

“I can’t argue with that, I suppose.” The hero shrugged. “I am not interested in making a scene, though.”

“But it’s so much fun...” Again, the villain pulled them closer, staring through half-lidded eyes at that heroic face.

One time, the hero’s hard shell had cracked in front of the villain. Ever since, the villain tried to crack it again, not because they wanted to torment the hero but because they needed the hero to know that being imperfect and vulnerable was normal.

The hero forgot that they were human sometimes.

“You’re aware that I am going to crush you like a beetle, right?”

And the villain had seen other people lose their mind to that.

“Oh, I’d love that, baby,” the villain answered. The hero’s face remained emotionless.

“If you think that you can distract me with your cheap tricks, then you’re blithely unaware of the fact that I am the best in this business.”

The hero tried to get out of the villain’s grip but the villain knew the supervillain wasn’t done with their investigation yet. So, the villain had to get creative.

“I know you’re the best, that’s why I want to fight you again. Gives me a kick.” The villain brushed the hero’s ear with their lips. “It feels good.”

“Ugh, you’re annoying.” The hero grabbed the villain’s jaw and turned their head away from them. The villain had to giggle at that.

However. The villain also caught a glimpse of their red ears.

The hero was embarrassed.

“Come on, grumpy…you love me.” They couldn’t help but smirk. Annoying the hero was a hobby the villain would never be able to let go of. Sometimes, they committed a crime just for the hero to show up.

“I’m wasting my time with you.”

Unfortunately, the villain spotted their superior. Giving them a sign to go back to the lair.

“You mean you’re having fun,” they mumbled.

The hero was quiet and looked (as usual) quite dissatisfied as they let the villain guide them. They didn’t seem to be passionate about dancing at all. They didn’t seem to loathe it, either.

“Let me invite you on a date, then. You. Me. Tomorrow. Bring your best weapon,” the villain said. They squeezed the hero’s hip, making the other’s eyes widen and somehow, the hero seemed much more human with their red face and their avoidant gaze.

Almost as if they did like the villain after all.

The villain could live with that, though.

You're the concept of a man and of an object!

(an OC that I've been working on these days. It's a shapeshifter/doppelganger that is.... well lets just say that its dating life is a bit complicated. The caption is from Catharsis by AlicebanD, and more info about the story under the cut!)

Helian, he/him. Tailor-made to be well-liked and loved. His partner did not take the news of him being a shapeshifter well, to put it gently.

The closest the shapeshifter has to a "true form", though it doesn't really have one. Any form it takes is done on purpose. If asked to create a shape that represents its "baseline" best, this is what it would pick. But it doesn't enjoy being without identity. (It talks about itself in the third person, thats how little "self" it considers itself to have.)

Luna, she/her. The form she'll take throughout most of the story. She took the name, face and personality of a dead woman, at her husband's request...

Life is hard for a people-pleasing shapeshifter...

« The Matron's Fang » Sanson Smyth

To go with this Guydelot set.

we're pretending it's still wip wednesday

@kingofdarkness00 is always lovely and tagging me, so here is me aiming to actually do one close to the right day

okay, another random snippet from the dream/hob angst fest with all the tropes, yes, believe it or not, this snippet is actually from the same fic... what can I say? lack of inspiration and random ideas never seems to be a problem, but um, not sure how to set this up, except, think post all the trauma i put hob through, hob going through a rough recovery, and dream sorta struggling a bit, being a bit frustrated, emotions are hard and shit, so basically, this snippet is a bit of the scene where dream retreats to seek council of the one person who he trusts to truly understand him and what hob is going through, even if he feels a bit selfish for doing it... enter calliope stage right please....

Calliope ducked her head. “I would be remiss if I were to say you appeared well—as for a god of sleep and dreams, you look awfully tired, Oneiros.” A painful smile. “Perhaps it’s the weariness at being unable to change the past that is catching up to me.”  “So, does this mean you are ready to speak of Orpheus—of what happened to our son?” Guilt seized his throat and squeezed—because what did it make him—how self-serving—that he hadn’t invited her to reflect on the memories of their child, to offer the support that he’d neglected to give so long ago? His lips parted, words hanging from his tongue before remembering why he’d summoned her—selfish or not. “No, though speaking about our son is something I’d like to do—soon—if you were amenable to visiting again—that is to say, if you don’t find my company as intolerable as you once did.” Her breathy laugh and eye roll proved her still better than him. “Just as you’d answer my call—I shall always attend to yours. So, if we’re not here to discuss our history, then what is it that has affected you enough to summon me?” She raised her brows, head tilting. “Because that is a look I haven’t seen in so very long—not since we met our end.” He clenched his jaw—defensive for no reason other than pride or perhaps fear of being perceived. “I—“ he began, then stopped, sharp edges softening at her radiance, warmth. At her forgiveness. Her and Hob were more alike than he’d realized. What did humans say about a type? Shaking the thoughts aside, he pressed forward despite the itch in his throat. “I’ve come to ask for advice, as I’ve—I’ve found myself not knowing what to do—and—and I suppose you were right. I've changed--changed in ways that have left me... questioning--lost. Perhaps even fearful of making the same mistakes I once made with you." Something seemed to have become clear to her, as a quiet "Oh," escaped her lips. "Oh, Oneiros, you continue to surprise me still." He huffed. “That’s all you have to offer?” She rolled her eyes. “Scowling like a wet cat will not earn any favors. Can't a woman remark on the things she sees?" “I don't recall you stating more than your astonishment." "I suppose--though I speculate it to be true." His brows lifted, otherwise his expression blank. "And do I want to know what you suspect of me?" "That you're in love—that you've opened your heart in a way you'd never quite been able to do with me." The guilt burned his throat. “I’m sorry I didn’t—“ But he didn’t get to finish as two fingers pressed to his lips. “No, do not apologize for love, Onieros—you hold no more sway over the decisions of your heart than you do the choice of the stars to shine in your eyes.” He stayed silent, knowing better than to challenge a Muse on such a topic. Then, the fingers moved from his lips, her palm sliding to cup his cheek. “Now, come, take my hand and sit beneath the cypress,” she said, threading together their fingers. “I fancy to hear the tale of the one who claimed your heart—who has you seeking my council in such a state.”

@buckybeardreams @thefangirloutof-time @kydrogendragon

minor life update: i meant to have some fics and fic updates ready to publish by now, but instead i read war and peace. and it tore me open and power washed my heart. so you get this snippet instead 😔

- - -

The call comes as he’s bent down in the vast, metaphorical sky, his metaphorical spyglass pointed to the planet the humans have called Earth. If he weren’t so distracted, if his attention hadn’t brought him down so low, he probably could have ignored it. Alas, he is incredibly—and inadvisably—close, and he is distracted. It catches him. He falls like a meteor. Or, he thinks he does. It’s not like he’d know; he’s never fallen before. Nevertheless: a meteor, shedding fire, burning up and trailing all its parts. This shedding of parts is mostly on purpose. The call is made in a human voice, so it’s a human shape he gives himself. Four limbs, a face with two eyes and lips that cover teeth. Clothes too, he adds when he sees the children who’ve called him here. Humans are so particular about clothes, and he doesn’t want to shock them. He hits the ground as he’s weaving the fibers into their proper shape, or he might have landed on his feet. Instead, he lands on his back, blinks up at the firmament, squints, sheds the film that covers his eyes and is flooded in blue. The sky, not so metaphorical. “Hello?” A human voice—one of the two that called him here. He breaks apart from that lofty sky, looks to the human instead. This one: a tall child with a mass of brown curls on her head, holding a book open before her. “Are you alright?” He lifts himself off the ground, realizes too late that he has not moved the way a human should. The red-headed one looks down at the book. His brow furrows, and he scowls. “You don’t look like an angel,” he accuses, glaring. HAVE YOU SEEN MANY ANGELS The children cower, hands pressed over their ears as they drop. Blood leaks down the sides of their faces, where blood most certainly isn’t supposed to be. He shifts his many wings, folds them up tighter inside his adopted shape. When he’s created enough empty space, he quickly forms the necessary parts. He tests them by swallowing, lets out a hum and feels the vibrations in the folds of his throat. “I Am Sorry” he says with his human mouth. He kneels down beside them, lays his hands over their brows and heals them. “I Did Not Mean To Hurt You” The girl recovers first. Gasping, she holds the book to her chest, stars in her eyes. “I knew it would work,” she tells him, and in her enthusiasm doesn't seem to feel the blood sticking on her skin. “I just knew it!”

started writing something that even less people than usual will want to read yayyyyyy

“That, ultimately, is who he wants to be. Is a good dad.” TROY BAKERRRRRR

‘You’re going to be happy’ said life ‘but first I’ll make you strong.’

Word Tag

Tagged by @bdeblueyes to find the following words in my WIPs: Thanks, View, Night, Safe. Thank you for thinking about me and tagging me!

Thanks found in Hydrangea Hearts

Seto fished the bento out of his luggage and placed it on the one free spot on the crowded counter. "Eat this. Okaa-san made it, as thanks for letting me stay this weekend." Yamashiro fake-swooned after taking the lid off. "Oden, my favorite! Auntie is the best!"

View found in Your legend impels the tides in every ocean there is

"At least the view's pretty while we're stuck here." Katsuya flashed a crooked, boyish grin. The illumination highlighted Katsuya's light-colored hair with teal streaks, as if Seto was looking at him underwater. Perhaps that was why Seto was so taken by the sight of him?

Night found in In bed with the mob

Katsuya twisted his back toward the locker room mirror. The reflection gave him a glimpse of the long scratches running down its length, visible even over his full-back tattoo; Seto's handiwork from last night, along with vicious hickies he left on Katsuya's neck.

Safe found in What you can't bury

"It's in a safe place. You just hafta trust me."

Continuing the tagging train with @saiikavon with the words: hand, touch, nervous, and love.

MAY I PLEASE ASK U AB UR OFFICE AU

GWENNNNN OF COURSE!!!!!!! ANYTHING FOR YOU!!!

It's really just a little thing that I started... idek, way back when I first lost my own desk job, I think, and it's about how you end up learning a little too much about Bakugo from gossiping with Camie during your night shift at their... temporary co-agency... and then how you go on to accidentally reveal everything you know when you start running into him..........

As with a lot of what I write, it ended up needing to be WAY LONGER than I intended, and I do have a potential... long fic office!AU (that I'm still trying to establish and plan) so I'm not sure if this is part of it or not... but...... I really just wanted to play around with you awkwardly trying to be his friend (and set him up with Camie) but causing him to fall in love with you, instead EEEEE.

Here's a lil.... snippet:

"horse, you're posting a lot more than a sentence or two in these WIP asks" well, you see, i have about a dozen WIPs and all of them just keep. getting. longer.

I am SAT for your Chenry fic. Please please tag me when you upload it?

Aw, thanks so much! I’ll be happy to!

Last Line Meme

tagged by @bluejayblueskies! :)

Rules: in a new post, show the last line you wrote and tag as many people as there are words in the line.

I'm gonna go with the last tma line i wrote, not the real Last Line, bc the real last line I wrote was for a critical role thing i'm secretly writing for my friend that's never gonna get published anywhere and I think only like two people who follow me are into that anyway ksjghdfkj. So this is from my latest post-mag200 idea, in which some things accidentally get tangled in the cutting of the tether and our intrepid heroes are left with some odd side effects :)

Looking down at Jon is a man he’s certain he’s never seen before in his life. 

I cannot tag 16 people i'm sorry it's just impossible. here are 4 <3

@asexualzoro @princess-of-purple-prose @cobalt-knave @judesstfrancis

it goes absolutely without saying that Maci’s obviously the biggest victim here since this is all on ✨her page✨ approx 6,000 words deep but also please one nod to Hypnos who, you will see, is not only also experiencing a horror show next to her the entire time but then also has to deal with bullshit like this even once it’s all formally over jfc 🙄

x