#this is a long snippet to make up for the fact I fell off the face of the earth | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kpforpresident · 1 year

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What if Clarke accidentally kills one of Lexa's plants that she asked her to take care of while she was away? Clarke replaces it with a lookalike but Lexa knows something is off

Lexa, armed with a spray bottle and a glass of her favourite six dollar Trader Joes red, wanders absently through the apartment that her and Clarke have shared for the past year as she hums quietly along with the radio that plays faintly in the kitchen as Clarke bangs around making them dinner. Lexa had winced slightly as she was shooed gently from the kitchen by a slightly manic-eyed Clarke, deciding to not point out the smear of pesto that marred one perfect pink cheek.

She picks up the slender silver watering can from its home on the mantle as she gently tips the spout into the base of that same Thai Constellation Monstera that had brought them together a few years ago, smiling slightly as the semi-dry soil soaked up the clear waterfall like a thirsty sponge. Lexa had flown out to the west coast at the last minute over the weekend to meet Anya and Raven's newest little one, a bright eyed little girl with a singular tuft of midnight hair and the most beautiful rosebud mouth that Lexa had ever laid eyes upon. She was named Jo after their favorite character from their beloved Louisa May Alcott book, and she had completely and utterly twined Lexa around a perfect little finger within the first minutes of meeting.

Lexa smiles softly as she remembers how Jo had slept on her shoulder as Raven and Anya had chatted softly in the background, eyes tired but alight with the soft kind of contented love that only parenthood could bring.

Burnt orange light bathes their living room as the sun quietly sinks below the skyline, casting burnished golden shadows over everything. Lexa continues to sip from her crystalline glass and tent to the plants she knows that Clarke most likely nervously avoided with all of her might while Lexa was away.

Her fingers brush over the fern that slumps on the small stool next to her favorite reading chair, the slouchy green velvet an idea place to curl up on a rainy morning with a cup of tea and a novel.

She's halfway across the room to dump the remainder of the water onto the fiddle fig that stand sentry by the doorway when a thoughtful crease mars her forehead as Lexa slowly retraces her steps to cast another thoughtful eye across the leafy green fern.

"Love?" Lexa calls as she wanders her way back across the worn hardware floors, battered wood gleaming slightly in the dying light of the lazy Saturday.

Clarke hummed an affirmative as a golden halo of hair popped out of the kitchen door, eyes lighting up as she glided forward to press a soft kiss to Lexa's wine flushed cheek. Lexa leaned into the small act of love as she moved around the counter to perch on a barstool so as to not get into the way of the culinary hurricane that was Clarke making homemade pasta.

"Clarke?"

Clarke looks up with a quicksilver smile as she tosses the pasta into the battered pot at the back of their small stove, stirring as she deftly sprinkles a pinch of salt into the merrily burbling water.

"Lexa?" Clarke chirps back, obediently moving away from the stove to focus on Lexa. Clarke scoops her wine glass off the counter as she enters Lexa's orbit, cradling the pale liquid in one hand as she brushes errant hairs out of her field of vision with the other.

"Why is the fern in the living room different, Clarke?"

Lexa watches with faint amusement as her words sink into Clarke, sees her process as a faint flush steals across already reddened cheeks, her fingers twitch around her wine glass as she flounders slightly. Because Lexa knows Clarke and her infinite roladex of facial expressions by heart, Lexa can also tell when Clarke decides to go with honesty as a faint pout shadows her bottom lip.

"I'm sorry Lex, I tried," Clarke beseeches as she spreads the fingers on her free hand placatingly, a small poof of flour flying off of her person as she practically vibrates with the energy of someone newly condemned. "The damn thing just crisped immediately when you left, and I know you said that one in particular is picky, and I couldn't do anything to revive that silly little fringe plant, so I went to Indra and-"

Lexa, whose eyebrows had been climbing higher and higher on her forehead throughout Clarke's impassioned speech, holds up a finger to cut off her harried lover before steam can begin to spout from Clarke's ears.

"Clarke, it's fine, it's just a maidenhair fern," Lexa soothes as she reaches across the bar to grab a flailing limb, smoothing her thumb across Clarke's hand as she feels her girlfriend's entire body relax at her touch.

"I- well- ok," Clarke lamely finishes, peering up at Lexa from her lower position with guileless eyes.

Lexa presses an adoring kiss to Clarke's hand as she smirks slightly, swinging her legs off the barstool to move into the kitchen to help tug down plates as Clarke hastily stirred the noodles.

"I can't believe you thought you'd just be able to swap plants and that I wouldn't notice, I run a plant shop, for chrissake, Clarke," Lexa manages to laugh around a mouthful of wine as she playfully hip checks Clarke.

Clarke shakes her head emphatically as she stirs fresh pesto into the now-drained pasta, spots of red still high on her cheeks.

"They're both green and fluffy and I cannot tell the difference Lexa, not all of us can identify every plant and fungi in the animal kingdom with one eye closed--"

Unbeknownst to the girls, the sun crept slowly below the horizon as night settled, velvety and infinite, over the city of Polis.

#this is a long snippet to make up for the fact I fell off the face of the earth #plant shop au #clexa #clarke x lexa #kpprompts #heda in the clouds

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borathae · 7 months

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↳ Index [Snippet #40 - Annoying]

"When Jungkook acts like the annoying idiot you fell in love with."

Genre: married life!AU, Fluff

Warnings: Kookie being annoying and cute <33, a summer holiday, our queen OC suffers from holiday indigestion rip to her, she describes her poop to him in vivid detail, listen!! they’re married and in love and the intimacy they share makes me weak

Wordcount: 1.2k

a/n: i had this thought that "dookie" would be actually a really cute (and annoying<3) nickname. And i think that out of all my bois, ogc!koo is the best candidate for such a nickname. So here we are, enjoy this cute lil fluff piece 🧡

Your husband is where you left him. He is lounging on the sun bed under the shadow of the straw umbrella, wearing nothing more than black swimming shorts and a pair of dark sunglasses perched atop his nose. The only jewelry he wears is his wedding ring, his piercings and a small fake shark tooth pendant on a leather string, which you both got from the street vendor in front of the hotel. He is currently on his phone, moving his foot in a mindless rhythm.

You and he went on a vacation together. Very far away from home. So far in fact, that you had to take a plane to get there. And it was the best decision ever. The beaches are beautiful, the ocean is clean and has just the right temperature and the hotel is gorgeous. Food is amazing as well, but there was one problem with that. You haven’t been able to take a shit ever since you started this holiday and this was five days ago. You can barely fit any more food inside, your stomach has been hard from everything collecting in there and you have been suffering from a strong tummy ache for two days already, but no matter what you did, you just couldn’t get your body to work. Jungkook had less problems this way. This complete traitor already went to the toilet three times. Unlike you, who still hasn’t been able to go.

That is until today when the sudden urge to poop overcame you as you and Jungkook enjoyed piña coladas by the ocean. You abandoned Jungkook by the beach and ran to get back to your room.

Now, almost an hour later you are back.

Jungkook turns his head to you when he feels your presence. He lowers his phone.

“And? What’s the status?” he asks.

You lie down on the sun bed next to him, letting out a long sigh.

“I did it.”

“Yaaay, let’s go”, Jungkook cheers quietly, throwing his fists in the air in tiny motions, “no more tummy aches for you.”

“Yeah, I guess but I can’t be happy yet.”

“Why? That bad?”

“It was a warzone. You have no idea what I’ve just been through. I have PTSD just thinking about it. I had the sweats and everything, even had to take off my clothes and I kept gripping the edge of the sink and even had to put my feet up higher. I stacked like three toilet rolls for that.”

“Damn.”

“And it smelled so bad. You have no idea, I stank up the entire room so bad that I had to leave the windows open when I left.”

“Oh no, that bad?”

“Yeah, that bad. I was constipated at first until it shot outta me like a torpedo and I thought it was over until I got a tummy cramp and then I started to explosive diarrhea everywhere.”

“Ooh damn okay that sounds traumatic.”

“It was traumatic. My ass hurts and I still feel dirty even though I took a shower. With two rounds of soap. But I had to do it in like my own toxic shit fumes and I think they’re burned into my nostril hairs because I can still smell it.”

Jungkook cracks up.

“Awww baby, you’re my little stinker now”, he teases, nudging your arm playfully, “my little stinkbug.”

“No, stop, don’t call me that”, you whine, “it’s already embarrassing enough.”

“Don’t be embarrassed, my stinkbug. It’s only natural to shit.”

“I told you not to call me that”, you get out under your breath, hitting his thigh gently, “what if someone hears you?”

Jungkook snickers, “and it’s okay for you to describe your traumatising shit to me in vivid detail?”

“Yeah, ‘cause I did it quietly. I know you, you’re just gonna call me stinker for the rest of the day and that’s embarrassing.”

Jungkook snickers, “I think it’s cute. My little stinker”, he says and leans over to smooch your cheek.

“Shut up, you’re so annoying”, you mumble, nudging his chest.

“Mhm and you married me, so you love it.”

You roll your eyes at him, letting out a small chuckle.

“You’re annoying”, you say fondly and rest back on the sun bed.

“I’m happy for you though”, Jungkook says, caressing your tummy gently, “I was suffering with you. Holiday indigestions are the worst.”

“Yeah, I’m happy too. Traumatised but happy.”

He chuckles, squeezing your thigh. You laugh, patting his hand.

“Hey, my stinker?” Jungkook asks then.

“Urgh, shut up. What?”

“Can you lotion up my back? I wanna go for a swim, but I’m scared to burn”, Jungkook asks as he already turns his back to you.

“Yeah, of course”, you say, sitting up so you can comfortably reach his back. You own one of those sunscreens which comes in a spray bottle. You spray it directly onto Jungkook’s back, earning yourself a loud yelp of shock from him.

“This is so cold. No. Don’t do that”, he whines, trying to writhe away which only makes you spray more cream onto his back.

“It’s what you get for calling me stinker”, you say with a shiteating grin on your lips.

“Wah, you’re so mean”, he says, making you chuckle.

You place the bottle aside and connect your hands with his back to spread the sunscreen evenly. His body is very clearly warmed up from the summer heat, his back feels hot under your palms. You are sure that a swim in the cool water will do him good.

“Make sure to get the tattoos”, he says.

“I am”, you promise him, “don’t worry.”

“Thanks, stinky.”

“Do. Not.”

You pinch his sides, making him squeak and writhe away.

“Don’t call me that.”

You tickle him again, forcing him to laugh and fight you off with his hands.

“Stinky, please.”

“Don’t call me that”, you warn as laughter escapes you and your fingers squeeze his ticklish waist even harder.

“Sorry fine sorry, I yield”, he gives up, twisting around so he is facing you, “you win, don’t tickle me”, he laughs, pushing your hands away gently.

You grin in triumph, “good.”

Then you reach for the face sunscreen, opening it.

“Good idea”, Jungkook says, closing his eyes in anticipation.

You spread an even layer of sunscreen on his face and neck, making sure to get his ears as well. The remnants of the sunscreen, you spread on his shoulders.

“Do you need it reapplied on your arms as well?” you ask him.

“No, I managed to get everything else. It was just the back I struggled with.”

“Okay, then you’re good to go.”

“Thanks, sweetheart”, he says and gets up, “do you wanna join me?”

“No thank you”, you let out in a breathy laugh, shaking your head, “I still need to recover.”

“Okay. See you later, my dookie”, he says and grins.

“Jungkook”, you gasp, gawking at him with widened eyes.

Jungkook laughs and turns to jog down to the water with snickers of mischief leaving him.

“You’re annoying!” you call after him with your eyes racing over the other people to see if somebody had heard him. It seems that nobody did. You are simply yet another couple teasing each other lovingly in a sea of strangers.

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eoieopda · 1 year

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interlude: sunrise (myg)

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader | Darksided AU Type: “Morning After” Drabble // Fluff Word Count: .9K Summary: Two years after your first night with Min Yoongi, you wake up next to him in a Parisian hotel. CW: Brief acknowledgement of nudity; Yoongi’s morning voice; devils, tricks, and the prospect of crepes. A/N: Surprise 🥳 This is a drabble that takes place between the events of Foresight and Darksided! A lil snippet of their anniversary trip to Paris (2018,) which is referenced in Blindsided. Just because, you know, I missed these two terribly 🥲

You woke up in exactly the same condition in which you fell asleep: naked, with an exhausted Min Yoongi mumbling through sleep with his cheek smushed against your shoulder and his equally bare body radiating warmth.

His imitation was so spot-on that you had to do a double-take when you saw the sun — the real sun — making itself known through the glass door of the balcony. As it rose, it backlit the Eiffel Tower not far off, leaving a staggering shadow to stand between your hotel and the break of a new day.

With a contented sigh, you melted back into the mattress and wondered how much convincing it would take to keep Yoongi in that bed with you all day. You had grand plans to ingest every carbohydrate you encountered on the Champs-Élysées; but no mille-feuille could ever be sweeter than this. And though it certainly wasn’t home in a literal sense, it sure as hell felt like it, tangled up with your love in soft, white sheets.

Cutting through comfortable silence, Yoongi muttered something unintelligible and startled himself awake. He jolted, eyes still hazy with sleep as he blinked rapidly up at you. The second he registered your startled face so near to his, you felt the tension leave his body. Just as quickly, he melted back into a puddle, collecting near your collarbone.

“Early,” he mumbled through lips too tired for movement. Of course, he wasn’t wrong in his observation. It was early — offensively so — but your giddy heart was already running marathons at the heavy warmth of Yoongi’s morning drawl.

This was, perhaps, your favorite flavor of his voice; molasses slow and ocean deep. Dawn be damned, you were suddenly wide awake.

Whatever Yoongi said next in that perfect, husky tone was unintelligible. In fact, if you hadn’t felt the column of his throat vibrating against your shoulder, you might not have registered speech at all. Suddenly flustered and beyond fond, you tilted your head to glance down towards his face.

His delicate features were half-buried in your hair as it lay strewn about your pillow, but you still caught the crinkle forming above his closed eyes, between his brows. Pensive, he was concentrating deeply like it took all the effort in the world to repeat himself:

“Gonna be a blizzard.”

You pulled your heart eyes away long enough to look back outside. Finding pink dahlias thriving in the late-August air, you had to wonder if Yoongi was sleep-talking; or worse, sun-downing before it’d even had the chance to finish rising.

Umm…

Both theories went out the window when he shifted a little closer, moved the arm draped over your stomach a little further across, and ran the side of his thumb slowly back and forth along the curve of your waist.

So, you’re awake, but I might be dreaming.

That’s when it clicked. You pursed your lips for a moment to fight off a grin; you failed in an instant.

“Oh, that’s right,” you sighed, laying it on thick. You pressed the palm not hidden underneath his pillow to your forehead, “The weatherman did say to expect a half a meter of snow —”

“— and black ice,” Yoongi interjected. Then, he moved just enough to place a kiss at the side of your neck. He kept his lips there long after the tension in them faded out. You suspected that this was a choice and not simply sleepiness that left him motionless.

His breath tickled when he continued his mumbling, “Big wind, too. Just, like, so much wind.”

You were a second away from exploding into giggles, so you pinched your bottom lip between your teeth. You nodded solemnly in agreement, “The most wind. Far too dangerous to go outside today, I fear.”

“Too bad,” Yoongi offered, though he sounded far from displeased.

The tip of his nose chilled the underside of your jaw when he nudged it against your unsuspecting skin; and it, in turn, nudged a tiny peep out of your otherwise locked lips. When he kissed your neck again, his smile was palpable. You shivered when the hand massaging your side switched targets.

His palm was a whisper up your forearm, over your elbow, ghosting beyond your bicep. Yoongi put his weight onto his elbow just in time for his hand to cup your cheek. You followed his lead and turned your face inward as he sat further upright. Blissed, your eyes drifted shut as he leaned in to kiss you properly.

Perfectly, pillowy soft — so inviting that you had to swallow a petulant little whine when he pulled away too soon.

This time, it was your cheek on the receiving end of his thumb’s delicate brush; reflexively blushing cherry blossom pink when his twinkling, half-lidded eyes fixated on your face with all the love in the world.

“Jagi,” he started with a whisper.

With that thoughtful crease returning to the space between his eyebrows, your sprinting heart picked up its pace. If your pulse hammered any louder, the guests in the room next door might’ve called over to complain.

You swallowed, anticipated, “Yes, love?”

He paused before he spoke again as if whatever he said next required bravery he had to summon first. He inhaled deeply. You, on the other hand, were breathless. Time stopped and started over in every second that passed while you awaited his impending question.

“Do you think room service will respond this early?”

They may not have heard your heartbeat next door, but you’d venture a guess that every person in that hotel heard Yoongi’s surprised yelp when you uprooted yourself from underneath him. If they hadn’t, they certainly should’ve noted your growl when overtook him, slinging your leg over him until you had him pinned.

Head caged in between your arms, Yoongi blinked up at you with feigned innocence lighting up his irises, “What? You love crepes!”

“You’re so mean,” you whined, earning a smirk from the trickster beneath you. Your exaggerated pout was supported by every muscle in your face. “Devils like you don’t get crepes!”

His abdominal muscles tensed underneath the weight of your body when he sat up slightly just to kiss you again. As he did, he muttered against your lips, “They do, though —”

Then he kissed you again.

“— and the girl —”

And again.

“— all in due time.”

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kiwiana-writes · 10 days

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Fic Pride Friday

Thank you to the fabulous @rmd-writes for the tag! As always, though, with 239 fanworks on AO3, this is a beast of a task lmfao.

Rules: Post your favourite line or passage from as many of your published works as you’d like. Let yourself feel proud of your creations! Tag as many people as you post snippets, so your fellow fic friends can be proud, too.

This got long (and I'm like... actively trying not to Feel Bad™️ about that), so four fandoms' worth of snippets under the cut!

Tagging: @agame-writes @affectionatelyrs @anincompletelist @cha-melodius @cricketnationrise

@dumbpeachjuice @firenati0n @getmehighonmagic @happiness-of-the-pursuit @hgejfmw-hgejhsf

@indestructibleheart @inexplicablymine @sparklepocalypse @stereopticons @whimsymanaged

And, of course, an open tag to whoever wants to play!

Red White & Royal Blue

What a beautiful tone aka introspective rimming:

Henry has touched Alex in a thousand different ways since he shook the hand of a beautiful boy with a yellow ipê-amarelo in his pocket and fell in love, so he doesn’t quite understand why he’s trembling as he rolls them both until Alex is on his back, hair spread out on the pillow, lips parted slightly and eyes filled with trust as Henry settles on top of him. With his arms bracketing Alex’s shoulders, Henry places a hand on Alex’s jaw and pours all the love and pride that’s been coursing through his veins since Alex delivered his speech into a deep kiss, his tongue running along Alex’s bottom lip, coaxing it further open. The noise Alex makes in response is devastating. He’s a live wire, arching up into Henry’s touch in a way that is somehow both entirely nonsexual and an unbelievable turn on. Alex moves like he’s trying to crawl inside Henry’s skin, letting out soft moans and shivering gasps that burrow their way between Henry’s fourth and fifth ribs and carve out a place for themselves there, somewhere only Alex has ever reached.

All the Lonely Starbucks Lovers, the coffee shop 5+1 where Alex is so hot it very literally makes Henry stupid:

“How can I do you today?” Bollocksing, buggering fuck. Henry’s going to have to migrate to Tristan Da Cunha. Actually, while that’s the most remote place he knows of, he’s also fairly certain they’re a British Overseas Territory and therefore speak English, which isn’t particularly helpful in his current predicament. He’ll brainstorm, though he expects that the long and sordid history of global British colonisation is really not going to be his friend here. Walking Wet Dream blinks slowly—once, twice—before his face splits into a wide grin. “Tempting fucking offer, sweetheart.” A tongue peeks out to wet a pair of plump lips, which only provides Henry with some extremely vivid ideas for what else might look good between those same lips, and oh Christ, if he actually gets hard underneath this hideous apron he’ll have to lock himself in his own basement. The fact that he doesn’t have a basement is immaterial, really.

A Practical Arrangement, the arranged marriage AU -- tbh I'm proud of ALL of Alex's internal narration about Henry in chapter one but this is a particular favourite:

“I thought Windsor valued courtly manners?” Alex grins widely, tampering down a smirk at the way Henry’s ridiculously chiselled jaw twitches, obviously displeased at the way Alex is going off-script. “As your betrothed, surely you should be showering me with compliments as you greet me?” Henry raises an eyebrow, and looks at Alex in a way that makes him suddenly, viscerally aware of the four inches of height Henry has on him. It’s a height difference that has always put Alex on edge; it never used to be the case, Alex is pretty sure from the vague memories he has of them in their younger years, but between one meeting and the next, suddenly Henry was no longer at his eye level. “As soon as I find something to compliment, I assure you I shall do so.” Alex almost laughs; that was funny. Rude and untrue, but funny. It’s a shocking amount of personality for Henry to display. “Back in Texas, they extol my many virtues, Your Royal Highness,” he drawls, pointedly ignoring June’s scoff. “Do you need me to give you a list?” “I’m sure they do,” Henry says gravely, but there’s a flicker of something at the corner of his mouth that could almost be a smirk. There’s a long pause before he adds: “…in Texas.” Alex’s jaw drops before he can stop it. That absolute fucker.

Kinda think that I might be his type, the Alex and Bea fake dating fic that blew up in a way I wasn't expecting but am forever grateful for; I'm proud of this whole damn fic but this line made me get up and walk away from my computer after writing it lmao:

“Don’t worry, though.” He winks at Bea, tampering down a grin at the way she bites her lip as she realises whatever he’s about to say is at serious risk of making her laugh. “We’re not going to wait until I’m out of school to start popping out great-grandbabies for you. I wanna be papi for real, not just to my little honeypot here, if you know what I mean.” The sharp clatter of Mary’s teacup against her saucer thankfully drowns out the choked wheezing sound from Bea’s throat; Alex only risks glancing at Bea for a moment, just enough to realise she’s fighting for her life not to burst out laughing. He’s not sure how much longer he can keep this up before he sounds like he’s reading lines from a terribly scripted and vaguely racist porno.

Puck It, the college hockey AU with my favourite analogy I've ever written:

Alex is aware that he might be bisexual in the same way he’s aware that he might be allergic to cats; there have been a few brief interactions to make him think it’s probably true, but so far it hasn’t had any impact on his life, so he hasn’t really had a reason to look into it and find out for sure. Now, faced with Henry’s clavicle and the sudden, vivid mental image of sinking his teeth into it, he’s not sure how theoretical it is anymore.

Handprints in wet cement, the 5+1 celebration of Henry's Oxford Slut Phase that is just so important to me:

“It’s not.” Alex’s fingers flex a little, digging into Henry’s skin. “It’s— you had all these experiences, and sometimes I can’t believe you want to share them all with me. That you’ll just tell me about them, and if it’s something we’re both into, we can just… go for it. It means a lot. You know that, right?” Henry blinks at him. If he’s honest, he’s never really understood Alex’s eagerness to hear about Henry’s uni hookups; Henry himself, while not bothered by Alex’s own past, has never felt any particular need to seek out stories about it either. He’d just assumed it was another facet of Alex’s insatiable need to understand things; he hadn’t realised it was important.

I've carried this song in my mind, the Arthur-from-beyond-the-grave fic, have one of the many MANY passages that made me cry to write lmfao:

You don’t need to find Orion, Arthur wants to tell him. I’m in every constellation, in your heart, in your soul. I’m here. I’m always here. But Henry can’t hear him.

Schitt's Creek

Wander Where They Will, aka the swans fic:

It felt like only a moment later that something woke him, though the pitch-black room made it obvious it had been several hours since he dozed off. It had been so long since he was in such close proximity to other people that David didn’t realise what he was hearing, at first. The gasp that rang out in the silence made his eyes snap open and his body tense up, and there was a thump and a high-pitched, muffled moan before the realisation slammed into him. He shifted in the bed, trying to block out the sounds out of a sense of… privacy, he supposed, or decorum. That must be why his stomach was clenching, so tight he could barely breathe. Patrick, it seemed, approached lovemaking the way David has seen him approach everything else—quiet, determined, methodical. All the noises coming from their corner of the cottage seemed to be Rachel’s; only a rhythmic panting betrayed Patrick’s part in the process. Even at the end, he barely made a sound. David couldn’t help thinking, as silence filled the cottage and pulled him backwards into sleep, that it was a terrible shame; that everyone deserved the kind of pleasure that rushed through them, untamed and uncontrollable.

Femslash February 2021, where I decided one entry needed to not only be a drabble (100 words exactly) like every other day's prompt, but ALSO a sonnet:

A princess resides in a castle fair Who Stevie beholds when sneaking ashore— With aquamarine eyes and golden hair, She’s all that Stevie is so longing for. If she had legs, or the princess a tail, Perhaps Stevie could be part of her world— But fate's harsh currents their union assails, Separating them with an eddy's whirl. So Stevie lingers, and watches, and dreams About a union between sea and land, Wishing it weren't as complex as it seems For them to lie together on the sand. But unbeknownst, a princess dreams, too— Of a raven-haired mermaid, pure and true.

And all the rest's illusion, the fic where Patrick works through his feelings about the word queer and every single comment made me cry:

And that’s really the crux of the issue, because it’s not that he’s uncomfortable in his sexuality. If he was, that would be easier to explain — right from the start, David never put a label onto him. Patrick was the one who’d whispered I’m gay into the sliver of space between them that night at Stevie’s, and David had just given him the same easy smile and nod that Patrick’s sure he would have received if instead his declaration had been I’m bi or I’m pan or I don’t know right now. His discomfort is more of a nagging, deep-seated fear that he’s not entitled to queer; that because he’s never been called a slur or worried about whether or not it was safe to kiss his partner in public or even come out to his parents, the word isn’t his to reclaim.

I haven't met the new me yet, the fic where I just dragged everyone onto the Jake/Rachel train with me by force, no I don't care that they never met in canon:

Despite herself, her eyes keep finding her way back to one of the pool players. He’s tall and well-built, with a close-cropped beard; he carries himself easily, joking with his friend, the flannel shirt stretching across his back as he lines up his next shot. When he stands up after sinking the ball easily, he turns around too quickly for Rachel to pretend she was looking elsewhere and their eyes meet. The smile he gives her isn’t quite cocky, though it’s close; it’s just confident, and confidence has always done something for her. She smiles back before picking up her beer, draining the last of it and trying not to grin around the neck of the bottle when his eyes drop to her throat as she does. She’d forgotten how good it can feel, to flirt with a stranger across a… okay, this isn’t exactly a crowded room, but still. Across a room. She doesn’t make any secret of watching as the guy and his friend finish up the game, the one she’s watching sinking the black easily with several of the stripes still on the table, and he hands his cue to his friend before striding over to the bar and leaning over to get the bartender’s attention.

Meet me out at the end of my rope, aka angstapalooza. The outline @ships-to-sail gave me for the end of chapter three just read "David leaves after possibly the most tender but heart wrenching kiss they’ve ever had, that’s ever been written, ever, in the history of written kissing" and then I had to... write that???

Patrick puts the box down gently before he holds his hand out. When David places the key in his palm Patrick wraps his fingers around David’s, their palms pressed together. Despite everything, it still feels like coming home; before he quite realises what he’s doing he presses Patrick back into the doorframe, his free hand wrapping around Patrick’s neck as he pours all the emotion swirling around inside him into one final kiss. Patrick, for his part, tugs David in close, his fingers winding through David’s hair as he shakes under David’s touch. When David finally pulls away he can see Patrick’s cheeks are wet with tears, and he knows his are too. He doesn’t know if they’re his own or Patrick’s or both. Patrick stares at him, his tone helpless. “You’re the love of my life, David Rose.” David closes his eyes as his resolve almost breaks. When he opens them again, Patrick’s face is blurry and indistinct in front of him as he tries not to let more tears fall. “No one is ever going to love me the way you did.” The words are choked out, but when Patrick opens his mouth to reply David shakes his head to stop him. “But no one ever lied to me like you did, either.”

How much love will you happily take -- I apparently awakened a humiliation kink in multiple people with this one and I will never not be proud of that 🤣

“No, that’s not— it’s not for lack of trying.” David being so kind about this is making it ten times harder to spit the words out and he drops his gaze, picking at Stevie’s faded bedspread so he doesn’t have to see the look in David’s eyes. He can feel the all-too-familiar crackle of humiliation crawling up his spine, knows his embarrassment is clear on his face, and it makes his throat tighten and his stomach clench and his cock twitch and he hates it, loves it, wants to poke at it like a bruise until it consumes him. “It’s been, um, a size issue?” There’s a beat, and then David is placing a gentle finger under his chin and turning Patrick to face him. His face is warm and open and Patrick likes him so much it’s kind of terrifying; he desperately needs this night not to end up another disaster. “That,” David says, voice soft, “is only an issue if we make it an issue. And I don’t plan on making it an issue.”

Wearing glass slippers, I got my Chucks, the Stevie/Alexis tattoo/flower shop AU my beloved:

“Did people send you flowers when your aunt passed away?” Alexis asks pointedly. “Yeah.” She doesn’t say, It was a huge pain in the ass, actually, because I had to throw them all out when they died, but from the look Alexis is giving her at least some of that must show on her face. “Congratulations and commiserations,” she says slowly. “That’s when everyone wants to give flowers: births, deaths, weddings, anniversaries. It’s like, human nature or whatever. There’s something…” she takes a deep breath. “It’s a sign of trust, I think. To be a tiny part of someone’s biggest moments like that. Even if just from the sidelines.” Stevie has tattooed children’s names and wedding bands, handprints and pawprints and important dates. She’s never thought about it quite like that before. “I get that,” she murmurs.

Great Acoustics, aka the cast did a Zoom thing in-character during Covid and had a throwaway line to justify David and Patrick not being in the same room and I just entered a fugue state and wrote porn about it in like an hour:

They make it ten days before their first noise complaint, which is frankly about nine days longer than David expected. They’ve been worse than usual, to be fair, with something as simple as a lockable door apparently now an aphrodisiac to both of them. Patrick goes about twelve shades of red when the official notice is pushed under their door, and then the pillow makes a reappearance. It’s all very fucking hot, actually, seeing buttoned-up, in-control Patrick reduced to a whimpering, begging, uncontrollable mess. Eventually, David manages to convince him that if something must go in his mouth during sex, there are several better options. No, not that. Well, obviously, sometimes that.

A focused moment made, kinkverse part one that I very much intended to be a oneshot lmfao RIP

For a few moments, the only sound is their combined harsh breathing as they recover. Almost before David realises what’s happening he’s being pulled gently to his feet, and then Patrick is framing David’s face in his hands and kissing him soundly. And David’s been kissed a lot during a scene, and a few times before one, but never once has someone kissed him in a sex club after they’ve already come. He lets out a startled but not unhappy yelp and Patrick takes the opportunity to plunge his tongue into David’s now-open mouth, chasing the taste of himself, making them both groan. Finally Patrick releases him with one last, almost chaste, kiss. He drops one hand but leaves the other on David’s cheek, gazing carefully at him, his face soft and open. “I’ve never done that before, with a guy,” Patrick confesses after a moment of silence. David raises an eyebrow, quirks a lip. “The flogging or the blowjob?” “Uh,” Patrick scratches the back of his head as he flushes slightly. “Both? But also, um.” His eyes flicker down to David’s lips and back up, and David gives a soft little Oh of understanding. “Baby dom and baby gay, huh?”

Your heart is keeping time with me, the 50 First Dates AU that I think has the best ending I've ever written? So, uh, spoilers-ish, I guess:

This isn’t a romantic comedy. There will be no miraculous, medically impossible recovery. Every morning for the rest of his life, David will wake up and have to be told that he has a husband he doesn’t recognise; a husband who loves him. But after he’s been told, Patrick will set out to prove it to him, with laughter and music and patient understanding. And because love is so much more than conscious memory, David will go to sleep each night in Patrick’s arms, safe and secure and content. Even though it’s not a film or a fairytale, they will still live happily ever after.

Other

We always walked a very thin line, aka the fic I furiously spite-wrote in three hours after watching Happiest Season lmfao:

When they were little, they were convinced if they practised enough they could develop some sort of psychic link; talk to each other over long distances without tying up the phone lines their dads always used for important business calls. They gave up eventually, but Riley finds herself desperately wishing for the talent now. Come on, Harper. Be braver for her than you were for me. “She’s lying!” The words burst hysterically out of Harper’s mouth, and Riley’s heart sinks.

We knew we were the fortunate ones, because obviously I watched episode 3 of The Last Of Us and immediately started writing, what do you take me for?

He knows that the last four years have been kinder to him than to almost anyone else; he also knows that he doesn’t look like those men in the magazines, the ones he used to drive thirty miles out of his way to buy, shoulders hunched and not making eye contact with the store clerk in case he found himself subjected to judgement — or worse, conversation.

#fic pride friday #kiwiana-writes

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save-the-villainous-cat · 1 year

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Hello,

I love your work, can you please do a snippet of the hero doing something reckless and the villian gets mad at them?

Thanks❤

The hero knew exactly what that face meant. This was so unnecessary. But the villain didn’t say it, no, they kept walking with their coat draped over their arm, letting the chilly air hit them voluntarily.

Eventually, it was the hero who broke the silence. The hero who felt like they had to make this right because, simply, it was their fault after all.

“I’m really sorry.”

“Ugh. Spare me,” the villain answered, raising one arm and waving it through the air. The hero could tell they were angry. Could see how they avoided the eye contact the hero was trying to establish, how the muscles in their jaw were tight.

So, the hero fell silent and walked with the villain down the dark street. It was way past midnight and they would’ve probably still been in their costumes around this time. On any other day, definitely.

The guilt was eating them up until they realised that they were, in fact, not responsible for the villain’s actions.

“Okay, you didn’t have to do that, you know? I had everything under control,” the hero said. They stretched their fingers subconsciously, feeling how the skin was ripped open and dried blood rubbed off. It was their fault, sure. But they hadn’t asked the villain to fight for them. Feeling bad for something the villain had done was stupid.

“Yeah, I saw that when that guy was kicking your ass. Really had it under control.” The villain looked at them condescendingly, judging them. They hadn’t washed off the blood yet, the blood that was probably also theirs. Neither had the hero. There had been no time when the bartender had kicked them out.

“They were a villain. A really bad one. I had to do something,” the hero said.

“With no weapons and no powers? I thought you knew better than that.”

“I needed to do something. I couldn’t let him slip through my fingers.”

“What you needed to do was think.” The villain spun around, looking all violent in the light of the street lamps, covered in splatters of blood. “Just for one bloody minute. Think and weigh your options.”

Anger rose in the hero’s chest and pushed down into their rib cage, fueling their tongue. Their heartbeat pushed up and up and up.

“I was doing fine. I didn’t ask you to get involved.”

“You were outnumbered. One to what? One to six? Six people that had highly specialised weapons to, oh, I don’t know, murder heroes with?” the villain asked. They were really agitated now, their former shushed voice getting stronger by the second.

But the hero wasn’t going to back off that easily. They hadn’t thought this mission would turn into an argument this fast. It was true that they’d asked the villain for help. In exchange for money, they were both spying on people and gathering information.

It shouldn’t have bothered the villain. The villain should’ve sat back and enjoyed the show but they’d decided to punch the other villains in the bar.

All for their cover? Maybe? The hero wasn’t sure.

“I had a plan. If you hadn’t—” A dry laugh left the villain’s mouth and within seconds, they pinned the hero against against the next best brick wall.

“I know an idiot when I see one and you are definitely breaking the mould for the definition of idiocy.” The hero blinked a few times, truly offended and strangely interested in what the villain would do next. “Good piece of advice? Don’t run into a bar full of villains and fight them when you don’t have any weapons on you. Our plan was to spy. Nothing more.”

They let go of the hero’s clothes, looking them up and down. Their gaze lingered a little too long on the hero’s bruises.

“You’re subverting the mission.”

“I can’t subvert my own mission,” the hero said.

Again, the villain stared them down, shaking their head slightly but eventually they grabbed the hero’s wrist and pulled them towards home while mumbling things like “dumbass” and “fool.”

#writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #an answer for an ask #request

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hufflepuffwritingstuff2 · 9 months

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1/5/7?

Hi Anon! I’m guessing you’re asking for the hurt/comfort ask game. If so, here you go! Thanks for your patience while I got around to this! In fact, there's another snippet that uses these exact numbers, you can find it here!

From this ask game

“The entrances to Whumper’s base are here and here,” Leader said, pointing to two points on the map, “they have guards stationed at each, along with other security measures, and- Whumpee?”

Whumpee jumped up in their seat. Aside from being the only one sitting down, they were also the only one not paying attention. Their glazed eyes stared at Leader, then the map.

“Are you okay?” Leader asked.

“Mhm,” Whumpee nodded.

Whumpee pointed to the tree line on the map, then to the center of the building.

“Whumper has entrances here and here,” Whumpee slurred.

Caretaker strode over to Whumpee, staring at them. Whumpee seemed to be looking right through them. Caretaker snapped in their flushed face, and it took far too long for Whumpee to blink. Within seconds, Caretaker’s hand was pressed to their forehead.

“Hm,” Caretaker said, brows furrowed, “Leader, I think Whumpee needs to sit this one out.”

Leader came over and felt Whumpee’s forehead. They winced.

“I think you’re right,” Leader said, “Whumpee, how long have you been feverish?”

“Hm?” Whumpee asked, “’m not f’v’rish, jus’ tired.”

Caretaker lifted Whumpee out of their seat.

“Come on, to bed with you.”

The sudden upward movement made Whumpee’s head spin. They looked over at Caretaker, whose mouth was moving with no sounds coming out. In fact, Whumpee couldn’t hear anything but a faint ringing. Whatever happened next went by too fast for them to register. All they knew was one minute they were standing, and the next they were looking up at two blurry faces.

“…umpee… Whumpee!” Caretaker shouted.

“What?” Whumpee mumbled.

“You just fainted,” Leader said, almost in disbelief.

“Did not,” Whumpee argued, trying to prop themselves up.

Caretaker and Leader both pushed Whumpee back down to the floor.

“Did too, stay down,” Caretaker ordered.

Caretaker and Leader exchanged words in hushed whispers. Whumpee tried to make out what they were saying, but before they could, Caretaker had slipped an arm under their legs and another behind their back and lifted them into a bridal carry.

“Stoooop,” Whumpee mumbled, “I can walk!”

Caretaker ignored them, instead carrying them out of the basement and to their bed, Leader right behind them. Leader pulled back the covers while Caretaker laid them down. Leader gently tucked Whumpee in.

“Wha’ about Whumper?”

“Whumper isn’t going anywhere,” Leader said, “we can infiltrate their base another day.”

Caretaker left the room and came back shortly with a bottle of medicine and a damp cloth. Leader sat Whumpee up and Caretaker fed them the medicine.

“Tastes bad.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

Caretaker laid them back down and set the damp cloth on their forehead. Whumpee sighed at the soothing sensation. They blinked slowly. Now that they were in bed, the only thing they wanted to do was drift off, away from the fever. Their eyes fluttered shut and their breathing deepened as they slipped into sleep.

Caretaker and Leader sat on either side of Whumpee as they fell asleep. They exchanged worried looks with each other.

“How did this happen without us noticing?” Caretaker asked.

“More importantly, how long are they going to be like this?” Leader added, “if they get any worse, we’ll have to take them to the hospital.”

Whumpee slept on, blissfully ignorant of the situation Whumper’s poison had put them in.

ko-fi

tags: @mythixmagic @infinityshadows @fishtale88 @thelazywitchphotographer @the-beasts-have-arrived @princessofonwardsworld @surplus-of-sarcasm

#whump #hurt/comfort ask game #hurt/comfort #writeblr #writing #creative writing #fever #fainting #bridal carry #fever whump #feverish whumpee #poison #sick whump #ask game #whump ask game #whumpblr #whump community #as requested

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inkedroplets · 6 months

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❄️Share a snippet from a WIP of your choosing. (I've been soaking up these rich girl snippets like a sponge but take as much time as you need! I'm sure it'll be worth the wait ❤)

So this really small snippet is from my Lena erases her memory fic. Kara ends up rescuing the woman that Lena's just started seeing from a bit of trouble.

“You’re a long way from National City,” the woman said, looking as if she still wasn’t sure that it was really Supergirl that had been the one to pull her to safety. “I happened to be in the neighborhood,” Kara said, wondering if the woman would chalk it up to a bit of good fortune on her part. Something that couldn’t be further from the truth.Kara had already long run through her flimsy list of excuses as to why she made so many trips to Metropolis. Especially when she knew what a risk it was to do so but this time at least, something good had come of it. “I can handle myself,” the woman said, sounding the teensiest bit annoyed. “Not that I don’t appreciate the rescue,” she added quickly. “Thank you.” Kara shook her head. “Sounds like you could have handled them on your own,” she said. That got a laugh out of the woman who looked as if she couldn’t decide Kara was being genuine or simply humoring her. “Don’t let my ego get in the way of rescuing me again if the occasion ever calls for it.” The woman grinned but the smile fell away when she realized that the bouquet she had clutched securely in her right hand was completely destroyed. All that remained were a few bent stems and one mangled bit of Queen’s Anne’s Lace that looked like it had been through the ringer. "You don't mind me pinning the blame on you for the flower situation, do you?" the woman joked. She smiled effortlessly and Kara felt a small pang of jealousy, refusing to dwell on it. "My date," she began to say before Kara floated up off the ground. "Back in a minute," Kara said, knowing it would take her even less time than that if she was quick. "Here," Kara said. She presented a fresh bouquet of flowers to the woman who took them from her after a brief moment of hesitation. "Wouldn't want to ruin your evening," Kara said and found that she couldn't say the word 'date'. "What, are you crazy?" The woman smiled again. "I have a much more interesting answer for when my girlfriend asks me how my day was," she joked. "And you even replaced my bouquet. You really are Super." "It was nothing," Kara said. Girlfriend, she thought and felt a strange sinking in the pit of her stomach, blaming it on the fact that she had gotten far too close to Lena, once more, knowing that if Alex knew she would never let her hear the end of it. "I have to go," Kara said and rose into the air, ready to put Metropolis behind her, reminding herself that she shouldn't make a return visit. "These flowers," the woman said and held out the bouquet, almost looking as if she were trying to present it to Kara in a strange of proposal. "I've never seen them before. Was the shop all out of roses? Are roses cliche?" "I wouldn't know," Kara said, rising ever higher. "They're plumerias," she said, not glancing back as she took to the sky.

#asks #poor poor kara #snippet

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steelcrops · 1 year

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Help at Hand - Hero x Villain Snippet

Summary: Hero finds Villain bleeding out in an alleyway, so they decide to use their civilian identity to help Villain without alarming them.

TW for violence

Rain poured down from the sky. It hit the ground like rocks. But then, among the rain, a body fell from the top of a roof. They landed in a cut off alleyway.

Villain hit the ground like a wet sponge, blood splattering as they did. The loud thump pertruded through the air. “Ghg…” Villain groaned. They could feel as something dislocate in their back. They weren’t very sure what but they knew it was something. Perhaps that was the scary part of falling off of a high up roof. Villain could feel the blood warm their clothing as they laid paralyzed on the ground. But they couldn’t feel the true pain. Just the warmth of blood and intense aching. And perhaps that is what made Villain uncomfortable as they writhed in an aching agony on the wet concrete. Rain poured down, diluting the blood. “Wow, falling nine floors and you’re still alive. That’s a talent.” Higher Threat stated and put their hands on their hips. “Actually it’s ten but who's counting? Not you, apparently.” Villain replied half-heartedly as they allowed the rain water to continue to wash the blood of her wounds, and yet more continued to pour out. Villain and Higher Threat had gotten into a fight on the rooftop after Higher Threat had tried to get Villain to join the Underground Villain Society. Villain, as what they liked to call themselves, an independent villain, was insulted by the idea of joining such a, as they deemed, heinous organization.

“Well you’d better count your days since with an injury like that I don’t think you’ll be surviving much longer.” Higher Threat stated. “No is coming for you.” They added.

Villain hated how they were right. No one was looking for them. No one would notice they were gone. “GAH-” Villain called out in pain Higher Threat kicked them in the ribs just for good measure. Higher Threat laughed at their yelp.

“What a long and painful death. You seem like the type who would have wanted to go out in a grand finale. It means a lot to me to be able to take that away from you.” Higher Threat added slyly before leaving. “HEY!” Villain shouted after them. “Get back here!” They continued, as if it would work. “You can’t-” They coughed as blood splattered out of their mouth. “You can’t leave me here!” She continued to shout.

All Higher Threat did was laugh as they left.

The rain continued to pour down, only making the job harder. Villain struggled forward as they clawed at the concrete, attempting to pull themself forward. They just barely got an inch before they stopped, letting out a choked sob.

They painfully rolled over onto their back as the warm pool of blood only continued to grow. They could see the sky begin to fade, everything around her become just a little darker…Until finally… Everything was just about gone.

Hero hated working late nights, but they never really noticed when a normal work day became a late night. It’s not that they didn’t like working late, they loved their day job, in fact! But they really hated the consequences of late nights. It made it harder to get up in the mornings. But that night was an exception. They didn’t have work tomorrow, well…at least as a civilian. They had their alternate identity to deal with. But still, there were few other heroes that could take care of things.

But regardless, Hero was a vet. They were always good with medical stuff. It’s one of the reasons she flourished so well as a hero.

“God- 1am already?” They muttered to themself as they packed themself up to leave the vet office. The place was a constant 24-hour kind of thing. “[Boss], I’m clocking out.” Hero announced, peeking into their bosses office, while also putting their purse over their shoulder. “You’re not getting paid over-time for this, Civilian (<-Hero's civilian name btw).” [Boss] replied, not even looking up from his newspaper. Right. Hero often their real name was Civilian. They were addressed and even addressed themself as Hero so much more often…

“Yes, I know. Have a nice night, [Boss].” Hero said and waved one final goodbye before leaving. [Boss] muttered some kind of goodbye as Hero left. The bell gave a light ‘ding’ as they exit.

Hero was in quite the rush. They had to walk home. They looked at their clock, checking the time for the 9th time that minute. “...Alright, so if I go to bed right when I get home I should get around 4 hours of sleep, then I can deal with paperwork, and by afternoon be ready to deal with–” Hero stopped as their eyes widened, “Villain!?” Hero called out.

Hero usually took that alleyway as a shortcut back to their apartment. But there Villain was. Hero would be able to recognize her nemesis from a mile away. But the pure amount of blood kind of made it hard. Hero dropped to their knees and checked Villain’s pulse. Their hair covered her eyes, keeping them from sight. Hero sighed with relief. But they quickly tensed once more as they noticed the pool of blood they were kneeling in.

“What happened…?” Hero muttered as they carefully checked Villain for injuries. Hero had never seen Villain so roughed up before. “How did this happen?” They added. They looked back and forth, side to side, trying to see if the culprit was still nearby. No one.

Hero looked back down at their bleeding nemesis. They couldn’t just leave them there to bleed out and die. That’d be cruel. But if they went in costume Villain would probably try and leave the moment they woke up. Hero sighed.

So maybe Villain would get to know Civilian a little.

“Alright…come on…” Hero stated as they gently peeled Villain off of the ground. This action only allowed a river or blood to seep from her open wounds. Hero shivered at the sight. Her hands, clothes, skin, all people crimson and warm with Villains blood. She threw Villain over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “Let’s just get you cleaned up.”

The apartment wasn’t far, really.

Hero’s apartment was simple. Hero ended up having to climb in through her window to get Villain inside without anyone noticing. Despite it being roughly 1:30 AM, there was almost always someone at the counter.

Hero washed Villains bloodied clothes and gave them some cleaner stuff before letting them sleep in…their bed. Hero rested on the couch while she waited for Villain to wake up. Would Villain recognize them when they woke up? Villain was never the most observant but they were very firm about what they did know. But to be fair, Hero and Civilian seemed to be very different people. Hero would know, as she spent the most time with both of them. Considering they are them. But regardless, Hero threw some ramen in the microwave and they watched it heat, as they awaiting their nemesis’ recovery.

- Villain slowly drifted somewhere between reality and some twisted nightmare. They felt some feeling of pain. But they didn't understand why. Villain stirred, just a little. Then a lot. "Hey, you're okay." A voice suddenly said. Was that...Hero? Villain slowly woke up. “...What?” Villain muttered as they finally opened up their eyes. The light was almost blinding as they awoke in the apartment. The person who had spoken gently held Villain's hand. Villain finally saw their face. To Villains disappointment, it wasn’t Hero. Though they certainly looked and sounded similar. “You’re okay now.” The person said. It was a civilian. “Who the hell are you?!” Villain questioned as they tried to stand up, despite their injuries. “Wait- don’t try and move so much- you’re hurt-” Hero, or as Villain knew them, some random civilian, said.

“Where am I?!” Villain asked again, “GaH–” They called out as they fell forward off of the bed, Hero caught them.

“My name’s Civilian. I found you bleeding out in an alleyway. You looked hurt…so I took you to my apartment” Hero explained.

Villain looked confused and stunned. “Were you born yesterday? My name is Villain, you know- big scary #1 villain?” Villain said and did a little hand motion. “Well you looked pretty harmless when I found you in that alleyway. I figured that the authorities wouldn’t be exactly….uhm…unbiased about you.” Hero stated. “Please, rest. You’ll make your injuries worse.” Hero added and gently helped Villain back into bed.

“...Thanks, I guess.” Villain always did have trouble accepting help. “Of course.” Hero replied.

“You’re so–....!” Villain said in frustration. “But if you know who I am why would you scrape me off the ground?” She questioned.

“Because…just…” Hero tried to search for an explanation. Hero was the only one who really knew why Villain does what they do. They forgot that at that moment, Villain saw them as Civilian. Just Civilian. Hero really just empathized and felt like they understood Villain, but they just couldn’t say that. “I dunno…I know what you do, but I don’t think that warrants leaving you to die in an alleyway. Even if you deserved it, I don't think it’d be the right thing to do…” Hero explained and turned away from Villain.

“Sheesh…you’ve got some more complex going, huh Civilian?” Villain replied. Hero laughed slightly. “I suppose.” They replied. “Well. Thanks for not turning me over to the police, I guess. But I should be on my way–GAH-” They called out as they attempted to stand once more. “Woah! Hey- didn’t you learn the first time?” Hero questioned as they helped Villain back up. “You fractured your spine. This is serious! You’re going to need time to heal.” Hero said and sat Villain up. “Whatever. Last time I got hurt bad I just got back up and started walking again. Not a big deal.” Villain said and waved Hero off. “And I take an educated guess you never properly healed?” They replied. Villain went silent, just staring at Hero for a moment. Hero sighed. “But I know who you are. I can’t make you stay. Just at least try and take care of yourself, okay?” Hero said. Villains brow furrowed. That was different in some way. Hero, well- “Civilian” was actually giving them a choice.

“Actually…” Villain began. “I think you’re really stupid for helping me. You’re really dumb…but…” Villain looked for words. Hero seemed more confused and invested than insulted. “I guess you didn’t kill me when you had the chance.” She stated finally.

“...So?” Hero replied. “Thank you.”

Ok reblogs are on now cause y’all are so nice about this 😭

#hero x villain #villain x hero #villain x civilian #sort of #heros and villains #writing #writblr #creative writing

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honestsycrets · 7 months

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Poll 9.22

Hello everyone, giving y'all the choice between two different works I have been working on:

Snippets are as of yet, unedited.

Requests:

1. How about a miguel o hara md x nurse reader 😭

Hi! Can you do a Miguel x f!reader fic where they're dating? It's expensive to live in Nueva York and the reader overworks herself at a thankless job with a pervy boss but she can't find work anywhere else. She doesn't tell Miguel about her bosses advances because she doesn't want him to worry about her but the signs are getting harder to hide.

2. Still, I offer you this: Sheriff Miguel.

He's someone all the women have their eyes on, and he'd have his eyes on them, too, if he were younger. But he has a baby girl to worry about, a runaway wife to forget, and a town to keep an eye on, especially when a woman from the big city pays the little down a visit.

He meets her when he loses Gabriella in the market's crowd, only to find her tugging on a fine dress belonging to a fine woman.

1.) “You’ve been staring at this same lecture for two hours.” He offers the cool mug that you abandoned in the kitchen, dragging your feet to the couch and zoning out to the lecture he quickly clicks off. The remote clicks as he sets it aside.

“That’s how you study,” you murmured, despite the fact that the PowerPoint on your lap was unmarred. A highlighter queen, you loved to sully the pages with vibrant pens and highlighters til they looked more like poppy birthday invitations than school notes. His desk was chock-full of the heart-shaped sticky notes that you slapped on his lunch every night like clockwork. He kept every last one.

“Not how you study,” Miguel throws his arm over your shoulders, forcing you to tip against his side. You fell into the warmth that was his body, your PowerPoint clattering onto the floor. You don’t bother to pick it up, rubbing the heel of your palm into your swollen eyes. You were crying.

“I’m just tired, Miggy. Patients die on the floor every day.”

“Happens when you work hospice,” Miguel remarks. “There’s an opening in step down.”

“Ya sé. I tried.” You turn your face into his naked chest, your soft fingers curling along his dark skin. “No one else will work with me for school. Especially not with clinicals coming up. I just… need to make it a year.”

“Listen to me and quit,” Miguel suggests. “I can take care--”

“We’ve talked about this. I don’t want Stone’s blood money. The drugs he makes—”

Damn, as if his degree meant a whole lot of nothing. Miguel turns his hand over yours, grazing his thumb over the chunky diamond set in your newly acquired engagement ring. It isn’t as if he has a great relationship with the fucker, but… if it meant alleviating the stress that you wore everywhere, he’d make something of it.

“—addictive.”

“Let me take care of you.”

“I said no."

2.) “Yes, mami, Sheriff O’Hara. Do you know old Sheriff O’Hara?” You sure can talk pretty. He clears his throat, pulling on the sloppy tie that feels a whole lot hotter all of a sudden. Or maybe it’s been that long since he’s been with a girl. It isn’t like he can particularly go to the saloon and pick any one of those girls that followed him around up. He might have a night sitter for Gabriella but-- the town wouldn’t continually elect a loose man. Miguel’s eyes catch the flickering gold of a bumblebee locket on your chest, tracing its wings' curve. “‘Course she does, she’s mine. I lost her up in the crowd flow.” “Where is your wife? You can’t tell me you’re the kinda man that does it all, can you?” Where is your wife? The question tormented him. He could do it all. Managing the sloppy, slow thieves and putting down the occasional drunken brawl. At the end of the night, he came home to his empty home and saw his little girl. Miguel’s gaze danced along the puffy clouds in the sky. The fluffy clouds drift the same as usual, the same old slow draw, unknowledgeable about the change in his life. He suppresses the distant call of longing fluttering in his chest. “Ain’t got a wife. She ran off on me with some wolf. Usually, I got a sitter for my girl but, she came down with a fever.” “A wolf?” you repeat after him, “Why, you mean a gentleman?” “If you wanna call him that. He was an outlaw.” “I’m mighty sorry, Sheriff.”

#miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara oneshot #miguel ohara oneshot

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theshinylizard · 4 months

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👀👀 oooh, for the Fic WIP title Ask... I'd love to know more about: Open The Door. 👀😬. My Brain goes bbrrrrr -> aAAAAaaaa is it a Good Door or a Bad Door??? 🤔 Is it a door that should stay closed? Or is it a door to freedom!! \○/ and who might open it? What or who is on the other side!?!?!? XJTZJTZJTZ so many questions LOL.

Thank you!

Okay here's a big snippet/preview of it

This story starts with QuiObi but it shifts into a different pairing later

(warning for angst and hurt, emotional hurt)

And the door opening is a good thing for Obi-Wan

“Master Kenobi,” Qui-Gon said, making Obi-Wan’s heart beat faster. “Can you stay for a moment?”

“Of course,” Obi-Wan said, bowing his head and hiding his eager grin. It had been so long since he had talked with his husband. It had been nearly half a year since they had seen each other in person. Qui-Gon had been quick to press inside him, insisting he needed some physical relief.

The other Masters ended their connection to the call, leaving Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon to themselves. Well, them plus whoever was standing around them. There were several officers, including Obi-Wan's esteemable Commander nearby. Obi-Wan had almost asked Cody to take his place during the meeting while he caught up on his flimsiwork and other messages.

“How are you doing, my love? It’s been a while,” Obi-Wan said, voice turning soft as he spoke with his husband. Truly, it had been too long since they had last seen each other.

“Yes, you’re right. It has been a while,” Qui-Gon said in a somber tone. His rather grave expression made Obi-Wan’s stomach roll. “Months in fact.”

Obi-Wan’s cheeks pinked. If he had known that Qui-Gon would talk about their physical intimacy, he would’ve suggested taking the call somewhere else. Especially if Qui-Gon wished to engage in holosex which they had done a few weeks prior.

“We could transfer the call to our cabins,” Obi-Wan offered.

“That was an unsatisfactory experience,” Qui-Gon said, shaking his head.

Obi-Wan shared his sentiment. He had had a busy day and Qui-Gon had been emphatic about needing some intimacy. So he had done his best but he had difficulty getting off. Qui-Gon had finished and he spent a few minutes trying to help Obi-Wan climax but ultimately he cited flimsiwork and ended the call. Obi-Wan had laid in bed for a few minutes, staring up at the ceiling, never having achieved orgasm.

“I have needs,” Qui-Gon said.

Obi-Wan nodded in acknowledgement.

Of the two of them, Qui-Gon had the higher libido, even though Stewjoni were known for their vigor. Sex simply wasn’t a priority for Obi-Wan.

“My needs are not being met. And in our current situation, they are unlikely to be met for some time.”

It wasn’t that the Council planned it this way, it just happened that Obi-Wan’s and Qui-Gon’s forces were at the opposite ends of the galaxy.

“Which is why I think we should open our relationship,” Qui-Gon said.

Obi-Wan’s heart stopped. A tense silence fell over the room. It was so quiet that a pen drop could’ve been heard.

“What?” he asked, stunned beyond belief.

“We should open our relationship, Padawan,” Qui-Gon said, shaking his head in exasperation.

Obi-Wan couldn’t recall the last time he felt so small. He stared up at the imposing blue holo of his former Master and now husband. He swallowed back an anguished noise, keeping his serene Jedi composure. He was envious of his Master’s stoicism.

“I have long debated asking you for this. I know how delicate you can be about intimacy,” Qui-Gon said, giving him a pitying look. “But,” he sighed, “This is the only recourse I can think of.”

“Perhaps I can petition the Council for a few days,” Obi-Wan said, panicked. He slipped his hands into the voluminous sleeves of his robe and clutched at his elbows. It had been a comforting action since he was a youngling.

“And when will that be? A few months from now? Next year?” Qui-Gon said, rolling his eyes. “You know as well as I do that it’s unlikely. And even if they approve a few days of leave for each of us, the chances are slim that it would be at the same time, much less in the same vicinity.”

A tiny crack splintered his heart. He thought they had been handling the distance well. He thought everything had been good.

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan said, bowing his head, feeling much like a chagrined Padawan.

“It is not your fault,” Qui-Gon said, shaking his head. His lips curled upward slightly. “I take it you agree to opening our relationship?”

“I…” Obi-Wan swallowed past the lump in his throat. All he could hear was that he wasn’t enough for Qui-Gon. It was like going to Bandomeer again.

“Padawan, I do not have time to dally. I have a meeting that I need to attend. Do you agree with opening the relationship?” Qui-Gon asked in an annoyed tone. His brows were furrowed and he was giving him a stern look.

#my writing #my fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #fanfiction #answered #writing update #my wips #star wars #obi wan kenobi

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bleachedjuice · 1 year

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'Adrenaline high' pt7.

The long awaited sequel 👹 I hope you all enjoy this little snippet of sugar and spice and everything nice. 😌 enjoy

Warnings:cursing,slight/light nsfw

The air as you walked seemed as suffocating as your thoughts where at the moment,you where utterly lost. Lost as to what had just happened give or take a couple moments ago. Lost at why Ghosts eyes held something else other than the undying urge to pummel you. It was like he proving something to someone..something...you.

That he was better than you perhaps? No. That he was stronger than you...

More dominant than you...

Thar mere though made you shudder....and then you thought back to the moment before, how well his body seemed to be against yours...how you both where pressed against eachother,panting... and then the thought beamed on the fact you felt his hard on pressed against you..

You felt your breathe hitch and face go red as you grumbled to yourself about getting hard over that moment.

Entering the locker room,the stream of a foggy bog of steam showed that someone was just here or was still here,but the lack of clothes in the cubby area of the room said otherwise. Undressing swiftly,you tugged your shirt off and tossed in a cubby nearest to the showers,as well as your dirty pants,socks and boxers. Huffing you places your boots and clean clothes in a neat pile in the cubby inched away from the dirty pile as you scrambled a spare towel and placed it on the hooked area of the showers before you waddled into the shower room,the cold tiles making your body shiver as the Luke warm air steamed to make way to goosebumps on your skin as you found that none was here. Good.

Heading toward the one shower that was in the back. In a corner,away from the others as well as an excuse to not to talk to anyone who came in whilst you where in here.

Fumbling limply with the water settings to your preferred setting you set it a more so steaming shower this time. The hot scolding water making you shudder as choked the cold out of your system for the time being,and as your scurried to scrub the dirt off of your body you became unaware of the world around you...not noticing that a certain masked person had made their way into the locker rooms to shower..

Simon had made his way to the locker room after taking a stop to med bay to get patched up, he was thankful it was just a forced impact break. Small one. A healing time of around 1-3 weeks. Not long. He huffed as he then glanced around and his eyes landed on a pile of clothes and an oh so familiar pair of black cargos and white long sleeve.

Narrowing his eyes away from it like a sneer or a mental scoff due to the moments before between you two. Shifting his hips uncomfortably due to the still evident hard on he quickly undressed,his body shuddering at the cold air that nipped his body. He then hesitated before taking off the cloth part of the cloth,leaving just the ghost mask,his dirty brown blonde short tight curls fell close to a growing out buzz cut but with slightly on the longer side. He'd have to get it cut sooner or later.. he then grumbled as he shifted his footings before he headed into the shower room,the evident producing steam and sound of running water alluded him to the fact that yes,you where here showering,and the sight of you standing there amongst the steam in the back corner just confirmed his suspicion even more...and made his lower abdomen area feel warm and funny. Like an adrenaline rush was hitting except it was like his stomach was churning in An excited way. He pushed the thought of you and ignored the still hard on that seemed to just become worse at the thought of you at the mere moment. Was had him so inflicted of you?..perhaps it was the fact that you where agile...deadly even in that aspect..or perhaps it was the way you held yourself,always ready,never hesitating,back always slightly twitching,ready to explode into action..or perhaps it was the way you looked at him,with those E/C orbs...the way they entranced him,made him shudder. It made him...

Human.

And that scared him,that this person he'd known only for so long made him feel...so...

Alive.

Turning on his water harshly,wincing at the creak of how loud it was,he began to wash himself,scrubbing swiftly taking in the fact that you where utterly unaware of his presence due to the water pounding directly over your head,drowning your ears with water and it's sound..

You didn't have a clue..

He then shuddered at the sight of you again..growling to himself he dared to shift his mask up and onto his forehead and scrub his face,his peach fuz slowly gliding on his finger tips and once he finished washing the black makeup off his face and his face in general he yanked the mask on and finishes scrubbing his body raw and clean. And then he watched you from the corner of your eyes. You still haven't noticed and just seemed to be enjoying the warmth of the water.

He envied the water.

He then rolled his shoulders and roughly turned his water off and stormed out,rushing to the locker room,drying himself aggressively,obviously frustrated and shoved his clothes on and out he left with a new thing of eye makeup and his mask remaining on but his face scarf stayed roughly held in his clenching fists as he entered a room....

You soon finished the shower, finding the water to turn your skin raw and red. Turning the water off you scurried out of the shower room and yanked your towel off hook and dried your hair and your body before throwing on your pants and socks,relishing the last of the steam of the showers warmth you then threw on your tight,black under shirt and tucked the bottom of in your pants before putting on your belt and boots.

Leaving the room with your clothes tucked in the crook of your arm you chucked them into the laundry hamper and then rustled yourself to you room,due to you having a thick curtains and the sun now in noon and that being directly above the base ,least to say you couldn't see shit. You swore you turned the light on when you just where in here,going to turn on the light on the desk near your cot set up you heard the door creak shut and click...locked.. within a moment of the heart stopping moment you had turned to face your attacker,only to meet the face of a Ghost mask..

Letting out a startled noise you felt your breath hitch as he leaned increasingly close to your face and then he spoke,his voice rough and grumbling,obviously pissed..

"Do you know what your doing to me Hound?"

Not wanting to find out you went to rush past him,only for him to block you with his body, narrowing your eyes as your heart pounded you went to take a step,only for him to ensure a harsh stride against you,forcing you to back up..and back and back you went until your back hit a hard surface. The wall...

Just my luck.

Letting out a scoff you then spoke,if he wanted to play a game,you'd play it.

"I don't know Ghost, WHAT exactly am I doing to you?"

You swore from how close he was to you that he felt his breath patter against you in a hitched pattern,as though he was laughing...

No he was laughing. Chuckling at you.

"You want to know what your doing to me? Your torturing me."

He then pressed his body closer to yours,taunting you almost,hovering over your body,as if to show how much bigger he was then you..and you decided to press back up against him,taunting him.

"And how am I doing that to you? Care to elaborate?"

You knew this was dangerous game to play..but..

Who said a little danger wasn't any fun?

You could just feel your heart racing,adrenaline going as you then felt his hands press itself against your shoulders,trapping you in place..

"If you say so"

And then all you could do was shudder against his touch as he spoke.

His right hand gliding down from your shoulder to your sides,gliding against your rib area,and then resting onto your hip bone area,his thumb grazing it back and forth like a bored child..

And his other hand slid itself up to your face,and roughly he gripped it,ensuring that he saw your face,your reactions to his words.

"The way you move, you speak, the way you look at me.. with those damned eyes...that damn look of hunger..want.. for something that you can't have yet."

You noticed his emphasis on the yet end...which caused your chest to spike and awake his right hand went and rubbed against your groin area,causing you to make a noise suitable to the moment and heat ti blaze against your face as he then whispered harshly into your Ears as he commuted to onslaughting you with his torturing touch as you grew hard with want against his touch.

"And I will show you what it is like to want that someone, that one thing, it's like a high you want but can't have..and I will show you what it is to not have it. You will have to earn now yeah?"

And just like that his hand left you throbbing and a gasping whined escaped your body with a breath you didn't even realize you where holding .. and then he gripped your face harsher,his lips mere inches from yours.

"And you will want. But you have to earn it. And I will torture,entrance you,just like you do to me" and with that with a gasping breath against your lips,he was gone,leaving you leaning heavily onto the wall of your room for dear life as your legs shook.

And he was right.

He was the drug,the high you wanted.

And now,he had you hooked.

Just like him.

In this little damn game of his.

#ghost mw2 #ghost x male reader #simon riley #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #modern warefare 2

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marzghost · 1 year

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Red Queen au with everyone from hermitcraft and empires + Martyn, Bigb, and Skizzleman anyone? I know this is such a niche little thing but god do I love this book series and what type of person would I be if I didn't put my little block men into it. 👀

Like imagine it if you will. Scar as Cal ,Grian as Mare, and Cub as Maven (I'm living for the convex drama I also have no clue who would take on the role of Evangeline but we'll cross that bridge when we get there. Thinking maybe Cleo but who knows it might change). Might make this into an actual fanfiction with Grian being born a female but identifying and passing off as a male because I can do as I please and who doesn't like the angst that comes from being forced to parade around as something you know you aren't.

if I make this a full on fanfic it'll be called The Red Blood On My Teeth Tastes Sweet On Your Silver Tongue (but our sins turn it bitter like a war over done) on AO3 but for short I'll be referring to it as the Red Blood Silver Tongue AU or RBST Au

Enjoy this snippet so you guys can somewhat see what I'm talking about. If I do make it into a full on fanfic I'll be sure to tag warnings because I know for a fact there will be a lot of misgendering and body dysmorphia since Grian will be forced to parade around as a female despite identifying as a male.

..............................................................................................

Grian was alive. Grian was alive that much he knew for a fact from the way his heart raced within his chest and his blood pulsed within his ears. He was alive when he should have been dead. His body should be nothing more than a charred clump upon the electric dome but here he was ,a mess, being watched by every important silver house there is.

He should be dead. Should be nothing more than a red and black stain upon the electric shield but instead he laid upon the ruined ground of the arena with his once beautiful new uniform burnt and smoking from the electricity that had been coursing through his body not too long ago. He should have felt pain when he fell down to what should have been his untimely demise but no. Instead of feeling anything he thought moments like this should entitle he felt more alive than he's ever felt before. It was like a blindfold had been lifted from his eyes and as he stood to his feet dazed and confused, wide dark eyes locked with intense and shocked lime green ones and like a fool he lifted his hand and waved with a nervous smile crossing his thin lips before saying, "Uhh, hi?"

That was all it took for the dam to break. The metal spheres the ginger and been controlling flew out towards him and in some sad attempt to save himself Grian quickly outstretched his hands in front of himself. One moment Grian was yelling wait at the top of his lungs and the next lightning was coming out of his open palms saving him from yet another untimely death. If the silvers hadn't been gasping before they sure as hell were now.

Then, like thunder, the king's voice cut through the air. "Guards! Seize him!" He commanded and like flipping a switch the guards all around snapped into action. Now Grian was no fool. He knew when to leave and as his eyes landed on his ticket out of the arena he took it. Running past the stunted girl he slid down through the lifted platform that had been used to bring up all the other ladies into the now destroyed area and landed down in some brightly lit hall. He could feel the energy powering each lightbulb but just as he focused on one it would explode in a flash of light and glass. Panic pushed his legs forward as lights exploded behind him ringing like alarms wherever he went and it wasn't long before the sounds of armored footsteps accompanied his own.

Taking another left Grian found himself looking out an open window and just as he hoisted himself up onto its frame two strong arms wrapped themselves around his waist and pulled him away from his only chance at freedom. Screaming and kicking Grian turned to snarl at the fool who had captured him but stopped dead silent for when he did he was met with two now familiar forest green eyes and striking scars.

"I'm so sorry Grian but go to sleep."

Scar whispered to him and just like that Grian watched as the world blurred around him and turned black with the last thing he saw being Scar's ,no Prince Rayn's, eyes glowing slightly gold in the light of the now setting sun.

(yeet there ya go btw I know it's very close to his real name but i didn't know what other name to give him and I really liked Rayn (pronounced rain) despite it basically being his real name with only the Y and A swapping places.)

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psalm22-6 · 1 year

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I have a hard time explaining this one . . . it is part of a series called Classics in Slang by H. C. Witwer and in each instalment a boxer named One-Punch McTague reads the classics (like Hamlet and Ivanhoe and Notre-Dame de Paris) and then retells them in “slanguage.” He also fights people with names like Rabit Punch Weird. Apparently Ethel Kingsley is a character teaching him to read and is also his manager (and possible love interest?) ? My disclaimer is that it was kind of hard to track down this installment, let alone the 8 before it so I am quite confused by the particulars of this saga and because the last name McTague is apparently Irish, I’m wondering if the humor is hinging on prejudice? I can’t tell whose slang is being imitated here. Please weigh in because honestly some snippets of this are funny. Source: Collier's, 25th December 1926 This instalment on Les Misérables was published on Christmas day (people just love Les Misérables for Christmas)

LES MISERABLES By Victor Hugo & One-Punch McTague ONCE upon a time a burly stranger breezed into a little slab in that dear Frawnce, tired, dusty and ragged from a long game of pedestrianship. The facts that he was afoot caused him to be viewed with suspicious looks, as in them days everybody traveled on stilts, except the upper classes, which hadst their own gnus to carry 'em.

Well, ladies and gentlemen, our hero kept on walkin' till he reached the drum where the bishop lived and knocked smartly on the door. In a trice he was inside.

"How are they breakin', Bish?" the new comer says. "I'm Jean Valjean and I been a galley slave for nineteen years come Arbor Day. That shouldst of rated me a job in that movie Ben Hur, but I get the air wherever I go on the account I'm a escaped convict. I'm as homeless as a milk bottle ! Tough, what?"

"I'll say it is!" agrees the bishop, which was nothin' if not big-hearted. "Sit down and knock off some chow, Big Boy; you look in dire straits!"

Whilst showin' the inner man some consideration, Jean told the bishop the reason he'd done the nineteen-year stretch was for stealin' one loaf of bread. The bishop said nothing — just coughed.

Jean couldn't get no shut-eye that night from thinkin' of the high prelate's kindness to him, so to show his gratitude he grabbed all the silverware in the joint and took it on the run. He was no Nurmi [I swear this is a reference to a Finnish runner who won nine Olympic gold medals in the 20s], how the so ever, and was soon brung back by the cops. But to the amazement of all, includin' me and Victor Hugo, the jovial bishop told the John Laws everything was jake, because he'd gave the heirlooms to Jean for him to get a new start in life. As long as the whole silly affair was only in a novel, what did the bishop care?

Jean turned up again in the village of Oo La La and by improvin' on the shape of mustache cups, the chief manufacture of the town, this go-getter soon become a wealthy millionaire. He called him self Father Madeleine and on that account the yokels laughin'ly made him mayor. Everything was hotsy totsy and Jean was sittin' handsome.

But they was one bird which thought the mayor was phoney and that was the chief of police, Javert, whose old man was so stingy he wouldn't give him a first name. Javert hadst been born in jail and spent his life tryin' to make everybody permanent visitors to his birthplace. Hearin' that Father Madeleine hadst adopted a cunnin' little tot entitled Cosette, Javert went to him and says the followin':

"Well, they fin'ly nailed Jean Valjean. He's goin' to jail at Paris next week!"

"So's your aunt Anastasia!" remarks Father Madeleine, unperturbed. "I happen to be Jean Valjean myself!"

"That's what I thought!" grins Javert. "You fell for my plant like the Jasper you are! Will you go to Paris peaceable and take the rap, or shall I call my minions?"

"I love that," says Jean. "I bet you don't even know what a minion is, you big sapolio!"

But, nevers the less, he checked out for Paris that same night and told all to the police, which was so charmed to see him that they sent him to the galleys for life, with the idea of turnin' him in to a master oarsman as a reward for him givin' himself up.

D'ye think all this bothered Jean Valjean? Hades, no! That very same Xmas he come to light again in Sacre Bleu, the French hamlet where he'd put little Cosette to board. He paid her bill and left without stealin' anything, as he was gettin' absent-minded, and they moved into a handsome garret in gay Paree.

Jean never bounded around in the day time as he was duckin' the galley cops, not cravin' to go back to that tiresome rowin' racket no more. But at eve he done all his prowlin' with the other dips which pass in the night, and one gloamin' whilst droppin' a gulden in a beggar's hat he got the thrill which comes once in a lifetime. The beggar was the gumshoe, Javert. More grief!

Scamperin' home, Jean grabbed Cosette and they done a fade-out, with Javert and a battalion of dicks hot on their French heels. They come to a high wall and Jean Valjean hadst to laugh. He'd climbed so many hoosegow walls that this one was a pipe for him. Over he leaps with Cosette in his arms and lands in a convent.

"Nuns the word!" says Jean to the good sisters and stayed there six years as landscape gardener. Javert done nothin' but gnash his teeth all durin' that period.

Jean then went through the motions of changin' his name to Fauchelevent and havin' a yen for the bright lights he again went back to Paris, where Cosette grew up to be a traffic stopper of the first water with more curves than a corkscrew. One of her first acts was to sink to the neck in love with a young youth rejoicin' in the name of Marius, the son of a gil which rejoiced even more in the name of Baron Pontmercy.

Then along comes a passin' revolution and what with bullets and knives flyin' back and forth like sparrows, Paris become another Chicago for a time. Marius was foreman of a street barricade, or a barracuda, as we call 'em, and the first day of the fun he captured Jean's old-time hindrance, Javert, as a spy. The dick was sentenced to be shot at sunrise and was prayin' for a eclipse, when along comes Jean Valjean and asks permission to be allowed the pleasures of bumpin' off this pest personally.

Holdin' his gun in his hand, Jean led Javert behind a bush and there cut the copper's bonds. A boob for the ages, what?

"Beat it!" says Jean. "You're as free as advice for a cold!"

Javert fled a few feet and then turned back with a wild cry.

"I can't be annoyed runnin' you down all my life!" he hollers. "Cook me and be done with it!"

"Who's writin' this book — you or Victor Hugo?" snarls Jean. "Vamp!"

When Jean dashed back to Marius he found that the sheik which hadst won Cosette's heart and hand hadst got himself wounded. The poilus was shootin' everybody right and left, with no regards to lovers and the etc. They was only one chance to escape and that was through a sewer, but Jean Valjean hadst never learned to hesitate. With a maniacal howl he tore off the manhole cover and plunged beneath with Marius on his shoulder!

[from here on out the scan is cut in a way that obscures a letter in the middle of each word down the page so I put in parenthesis words that I’m not sure make sense or can’t see]

The ters raged about him, but he rag right back at 'em and done a [Edeto] the mouth of the river. When come to the surface with Marius, [whoes] he see sittin' on the bank waitin' him but Javert! That simply [poisd] Jean!

By [?] time this funny sleuth was beginni to slightly annoy Jean, so after [?] Marius to a medico he went with Javert to his room. Javert stayed outside thinkin' matters over. Whils the was officer of the law he couldn't leave Jean Valjean escape and on the other hand he couldn't pinch the guy which [had] spared his life. The thing was a [?]-off all around, so Javert run back the river and crowned a life of nonsense by jumpin' overboard and drownin. The big stiff was all damp, anyway.

Marius, wiry youth, got better and wed Cosette, and Jean called 'em both to his side. “As long as Javert has kissed off, kiddies, there’s no kick left in life for me no more, there bein' nobody to chase me!" he sobs, and so did I when I read this. "That bein' the case, I'm goin' to One side, please!" And executin' a back somersault, he fell to the floor deceased, and legend hath it he’s dead to this day!

#les miserables #my research #lm inspired #speculation and mysteries

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justmenoworries · 1 year

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Yeah, okay, I'm officially annoyed at the direction this Volume took with Alyx.

RWDE and spoilers for V9E06 under the cut.

This whole "Alyx was actually evil" twist pisses me off for so many reasons.

One is that it just seems so... unnecessary? We don't know Alyx. If you didn't read the fairytale book (which the majority of people watching RWBY didn't) you'd have no idea who she is until maybe Volume 8 where Oscar and Ozpin briefly talk about the story she appears in. This feels like a twist for twist's sake and it rings hollow, because Alyx isn't a character anyone really cares about. We never spent time with her. All we have of her is her story, which is fed to us in snippets by the actual main characters. Additionally, Alyx was already hinted to not be an ideal heroine, being responsible for a war breaking out and stealing and cheating to get ahead. Making her a straight-up villain is not as shocking as the writers seem to think it is.

Second, it's very obviously just there to inflate Jaune's importance as the one who actually got to meet Alyx and saw her "true self". Jaune has no business being in this volume and the writers knew that. So they just stapled him to yet another way more interesting character so him once again stealing screentime from Team RWBY has the flimsiest of justifications. I dare you to tell me one good reason why Jaune should be in the Ever After that is not the Alyx-twist. Heck, even with the Alyx-twist, Jaune is still painfully superfluous. The Rusted Knight was already an established character in Alyx' story. He didn't need to be Jaune, he literally could have just been the Rusted Knight.

Thirdly, Alyx continues the trend of "every character that isn't one hundred percent good in the eyes of Team RWBY and their sycophants and hanger-ons will inevitably turn out evil". I have been waiting since Volume 5 for someone to tell Team RWBY to check themselves without getting villainized for it. The girls have been going 'My way or the highway' for far too long without being called out. So imagine my surprise when Volume 9 implied Team RWBY was gonna get called out, if indirectly. In episode 2, Yang starts to talk shit about Alyx, saying that she wasn't a good kid because she cheated and lied while travelling through the Ever After. To which Weiss counters that Alyx was a child in an unfamiliar environment, who most likely had to do all these things to survive and that the story is treating her situation in a way too black-and-white manner. The first time I saw this scene, I was immediately hooked. Critics have been pointing out Team RWBY's self-rightousness and unwillingness to see shades of gray ever since the whole Ironwood disaster. Was Rooster Teeth actually listening? Were the girls finally going to be confronted with the fact that they're not the last word on what is right or wrong? Haha, No. Turns out Yang was right. Alyx really was the worst. Just like Ironwood. No need for Team RWBY to take a hard look at their own morals and behavior.

Last but not least: With Alyx we have yet another character of color villainized. And the one to expose her was the blonde, blue-eyed white guy, whom she tricked and almost killed. And even before that, what little we got to know of her paints her as a violent, selfish thief. Thanks, I hate it.

EDITS:

Okay, I've just been informed that The Girl Who Fell Through the World (Alyx' story) apparently isn't in the fairytale book. It was literally added in in Volume 8. Making the Alyx "twist" even more fucking pointless.

Oh, and because I can't believe I forgot to talk about it before: Gotta love how the supposedly super-feminist show went "Yeah, the little black girl who's the heroine of one of our world's most beloved childrens' stories was actually an eeevil villain. The real heroes were her much smarter and much kinder older brother and the white guy who got his stupid ass self-inserted." Fucking yikes.

#rwde #rwby spoilers

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hufflepuffwritingstuff2 · 1 year

Text

1k Followers Celebratory Snippet

You guys voted so here it is! Some Hero x Villain whump in celebration of 1k followers!

It’s a bit long, so I put it under the cut!

Villain flew between buildings, looking for something to liven up their rather dull evening. Not that they needed enrichment; but still, it would be nice to have. They tilted their head when they saw someone slumped against an alley wall.

Not my problem, Villain thought, Hero will take care of it.

Upon closer inspection, however…

Villain cursed, that is Hero.

Villain landed in front of their sibling, who barely noticed their arrival.

“Hero,” Villain asked, “what happened?”

Villain scanned Hero up and down. No signs of injury, except a red, irritated area on Hero’s neck, possibly an injection site. Their breathing was shallow and ragged, and they seemed to be having a hard time just standing up. Villain stepped closer. Hero’s face was flushed, and their eyes were unfocused and glassy.

“Don’t!”

Hero sent a beam of ice right toward Villain. Well, more like a pathetic flurry of snowflakes. Villain scoffed and felt Hero’s forehead. To anyone else, Hero would feel almost hypothermic, but Villain had figured out their temperature patterns by now to know a fever when they felt one.

“Get off!” Hero shouted weakly, throwing a punch.

Villain easily caught it and dropped Hero’s fist down to their side.

“I’m trying to help you,” Villain said, “stop fighting me. Can you walk?”

Hero took a step, intending to push Villain away, but immediately lurched forward. Villain caught them easily.

“I’ll take that as a no,” Villain said.

“Let go!” Hero said, squirming in their hold.

“[Sibling]!” Villain shouted.

Hero paused and looked up from their spot in Villain’s arms, then continued to thrash about and struggle.

“Listen, if you don’t stop fighting me, I’m going to do something you won’t like,” Villain said.

If it was anyone else, Villain would have used their powers already. Well, if it was anyone else, Villain wouldn’t have stopped to help them in the first place. But this was Hero, their Hero, and they knew that Hero would be upset if they did what they were considering doing. A sharp kick to Villain’s shins made up their mind for them. Villain pinned Hero against the wall and held a hand to their temple.

“Go to sleep, Hero,” Villain said.

Hero’s eyes widened, then fluttered shut. They fell forward again, limp in Villain’s hold. Villain repositioned them into a bridal carry and flew from the alleyway to their home.

…

Hero stirred when something cool touched their forehead.

“Mm,” Hero murmured.

Hero forced their eyes to open. They stared up at a plain ceiling. They went to sit up, but they were held in place by something. Hero looked down, but all they saw were blankets.

“The straps are under the covers,” a voice said.

Hero turned their head to face the voice.

“Villain?” Hero asked dazedly.

“So, you do recognize me,” Villain asked, “took you long enough.”

“Wha… what’s going on?” Hero asked, squirming in the restraints.

“I had to make sure you wouldn’t attack me again,” Villain said, pulling back the duvet and revealing several straps pulled across Hero’s body.

“Attack… you?”

“Mhm,” Villain said, undoing all the restraints, “not that you’d get very far of course, not in your condition.”

“What condition?”

Villain tilted their head and gave Hero an unreadable look.

“You don’t remember anything?” Villain asked.

“[Sibling], please just tell me what’s going on.”

Villain sat down at the edge of the bed.

“I found you in an alleyway,” Villain said, “you were delirious and feverish. You’re still feverish as a matter of fact. I think you were drugged, or maybe poisoned, I'm not sure which. What’s the last thing you remember?”

Hero tried to think back, but when they did, a pain burst through their head. They winced and held a hand up to it, feeling a damp cloth there. Despite the pain, Hero recalled some fuzzy images.

“There was a person,” Hero said, “they were being attacked at a bus stop. I went to help them, but it was an ambush. They and the people that were pretending to attack them all rounded on me and tried to shoot at me with little darts or something. One of them, the one playing victim, got me in the neck, and I ran. I don’t remember anything after that, it hurts too much.”

“I’m surprised they didn’t pursue you,” Villain said, “a job poorly done if they were trying to kill you. You should always go after your victim to make sure they’re dead.”

Hero gave Villain a confused and horrified look.

“Sorry,” Villain said, “…this person playing victim, what did they look like?”

Hero tried their best to describe the person who had shot them with the dart. Villain listened, and their eyes slowly narrowed.

“What?” Hero asked, sitting up, “what is it? Do you know them?”

Villain pushed Hero back down and stood.

“I have to go,” Villain said, “stay put, I’ll be back soon.”

“Go? Go where? Villain, wait!”

Hero sat up again and swung their legs over the side of the bed. Villain lifted Hero’s legs with their mind and set them back down under the covers. They fluffed Hero’s pillow with their mind and used their powers to lay Hero’s head down against it.

“Don’t try to get up again, or I’ll put you to sleep,” Villain said.

Hero watched Villain leave the room, seemingly calm, but Hero knew it was a false calm. Something they had told Villain had made them furious, Hero only hoped they didn’t do something they would regret.

…

Villain strode out of their townhouse and started to search for Other Villain. No one touched their sibling and got away with it.

ko-fi

tags: @mythixmagic @infinityshadows @fishtale88 @thelazywitchphotographer @the-beasts-have-arrived @princessofonwardsworld

Special thanks to @deckofaces, @surplus-of-sarcasm, and @thepenultimateword for helping me with this story!

Hero and Villain are actually some of my ocs, I just removed their names and made them gender-neutral for the sake of the snippet. You’ll recognize Aurelis as Hero, and her sister is Villain!

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