#this would have been much funnier a few months ago
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#this would have been much funnier a few months ago#vanilla extract#mlp#My Little Pony#mlp fim#my little pony friendship is magic#season 7#Not Asking for Trouble#Pinkie Pie
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Finders Givers | Part 2
“STEVEN MARION HARRINGTON.”
“Not my middle name.” Although Robin had made several valiant attempts in guessing it every time she needed to burst into his office all guns blazing. Which was unfortunately… often. She still hadn’t managed to crack it.
He didn’t actually have a middle name. He wasn’t going to tell her that though, this was funnier.
She slapped a sheaf of papers down onto his desk, a brief flick of the first page told him they were call logs and transcripts “What did you DO?! Claudia’s been getting calls all morning asking about renovations?”
“Okay, so, in my defence. It was Nancy’s idea.” That was his whole defence. It was Nancy’s idea. His idea had been worse.
“Explain.”
“You know, most people in my position don’t have to explain themselves to people who work for them, their people just respect them, and do as they say without argument.” He mused, mostly to himself, but he could see the woman’s eye twitch in annoyance and so he sighed in defeat, it’d only wind up with him having those papers whapped around his head. “Remember the wallet I found?”
“The one that was bumming you out?”
“Yeah! Well, when I went out for a walk, I found the guys work address and—”
“You know we have guys who do that sort of shit for us, right? You can’t be stalking people, Dingus, what the fuck?” That sheaf of papers was dangerously close to hitting him. She’d picked them back up an everything.
“Just listen! He was at work, I didn’t talk to him or anything I’m not stupid, but... his manager made this girl cry so he just decked him, laid him out, one punch an he was down, then he just quit his job, right there, shit was spectacular.” Steve could appreciate a good bit of muscle, could appreciate a scrapper. Plus the guy was hot so, that helped. “Doesn’t look like his photo either, he’s got so much hair, Robs, it’s... wow, he’s just—”
“Ew, I don’t wanna hear about your crush on some random guy, what’s this got to do with these renovations Claudia’s being spammed over?”
“Okay so, guy lost his job.”
“Quit, quit his job.”
“Defending a ladies honour, something I thought you’d appreciate.” She raised a single unimpressed brow “but, I... I was gonna just send him rent money for a few months, y’know, cover a few bills, charity!” His heart was in the right place, his head however, his head was in space.
“That’s not charity that’s stupidity, but go on.”
“That’s what Nance said! Apparently it’d be suspicious if I were to be found sending large amounts of cash in nondescript envelopes to an apartment block notorious for drug activity, so she suggested that since I’m already buying that bar nearby, it’d look less conspicuous if I just... bought the building the guy lives in and claim I was developing it, make it seem like I have an interest in building up local problem areas.” She frowned, silent in her thoughts as she processed.
“... And what about the rent forgiveness?”
“I was gonna pay for his rent, might as well just not have him pay rent, y’know? An it’s gotta be building wide or there’ll be questions, like why is he so special, it’d put him under scrutiny. So Nance suggested putting a stop on rent as we ‘renovate’ as a sort of, we’re disrupting your life so here’s a break for you kinda deal.” Honestly Nancy really was a life saver, he really ought to give her a raise, he’d have been fucked over years ago had he not pulled her into the fold.
“So that means we’re actually going to have to renovate this block then?”
“I mean—”
“Were going to have to renovate this block, Steve. We can’t just forgive the rent forever, that’s bonkers, that would raise eyebrows, and we can’t afford eyebrows being raised at us right now. So you’re going to have to have professionals go in and survey the apartments inside for renovations.” This was now an actual thing he’d have to do.
“Ah well, gives me something to occupy my time with. Also I was thinking—”
“Never a good sign”
“Shut up, I was thinking of putting Argyle in there as a plant, like... the drugs being peddled out of that block are just trash, at least we could get a solid dealer in there and get Argyle out of the Wheelers basement.” He’d only been staying there because Joyce didn’t have a basement and Jonathan didn’t have room for him.
He was Jonathan's friend, and Jonathan came with Nancy, Steve didn’t have any reason to help him out. Now he did! And that reason was getting those poor people better weed.
“Are you not worried that the existing dealers will start shit with him for moving into their turf?”
“They touch him they deal with Hargrove, he's been particularly irritable lately, anything could set him off, pretty sure he’d be jazzed to break a few legs.” Release some of that pent up rage he seemed so good at bottling up in tiny easily burstable bottles. “One visit from that nut job and they’ll settle right down.”
He didn’t like Hargrove, but he had to admit the guy was a useful enforcer. Indebted to Steve too after Jane had taken a nail imbedded baseball bat to his old employers head in a bid to help her friend Max escape the debt her stepdad had racked up with him. Billy had also been freed, being Max’s step brother, left unmoored and in danger of a jail cell.
Steve had taken them both in after getting rid of Creels corpse. It was Hopper’s idea. Billy wouldn’t have survived in jail, too many enemies in there.
“It only takes one hit to hurt Argyle beyond repair though, maybe get rid of the dealers in there already, then give Argyle one of the apartments.”
“See you’re already on board!” And there was the whack round the head with the papers, his sharp objection going ignored.
“Fine, I’m on board, but only because it’s Nancy’s idea.” She was retreating as she spoke “Yours was a trash fire, like, not just one of those little oil barrel fires I mean like a whole dumpster fire. Argyle stays out until it’s safe though, I mean it Steve, I will get Hopper involved.” She opened the door, ready to go.
“You can’t threaten me with my own Chief of Police! That’s so mean!”
“Watch me, dingus. Also you have two people downstairs from your little block purchase wanting more information, do you wanna deal with them or should I?”
“Do you think I could actually spin a good idea to explain this that won’t get immediately reworked by either you or Nance?” She paused, a thoughtful expression on her face that answered his question more than any actual answer would have. “Exactly, you deal with it, you’re better at timelines an stuff anyway.” He was more the big idea guy.
“Yeah but you’re better at people.” It was true, Steve was more the people person out of the two of them. “Fine, I’ll deal with it, and I’ll ask Nance to find some decent contractors to do the work for us. Maybe… drop into my office in like, ten minutes? Considering you let your dick lead you to places I wouldn’t even go with a gun, you should at least make an appearance for these people whose lives you’ve interrupted.”
“Ngghhh fine. Fine. I’ll be there in ten.” And she was out with a tiny salute as her goodbye.
Part 4
#PirateWrites#FindersGiversFiclet#Steddie#Mob Boss Steve Harrington#No Upside Down AU#Shady!Steve#CW: light-hearted stalker vibes
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jealous!steve fic recs ❤️
Oh bother by @elcorhamletlive
At a vacation on a farm, a piglet imprints on Tony.
An Educational Experience (The Good Things Come To Those Who Wait Remix) by @valdomarx
Ults Tony has a nice day.
aka Tony talks Steve through sucking his cock.
Santa Claus is Coming to Town by Last_Chance_Anna
Steve and Tony throw a Christmas party, and Steve rediscovers his jealous streak when it comes to Tony. Luckily Tony knows the cure for that. Spoiler alert: It's sex.
in the storm, we stay clear by @thahiree
Steve and Tony's car breaks down in the middle of nowhere. It leads to some misunderstandings and then finally some long overdue conversations.
talking sweet and looking fine by meidui
“I haven’t dated since god knows when,” Tony says with a little shake of his head, almost self-deprecating. “This is one of Hill’s friends, actually. A civilian, not caught up with all this. I didn’t know she had those, to be honest.”
“Right,” Steve says, like this isn’t the softest, most unwitting way Tony has ever broken his heart.
you are the reason by @avengersnewb
Steve and Tony are seeing each other in secret. An unfortunate encounter with Tiberius Stone, just as Steve decides to talk to Tony and define their relationship, makes things complicated.
I Always Turn To You by @kandisheek
The Avengers are all hanging out drunk in the common room when Clint suggests playing fuck, marry, kill. Everyone chooses Steve to marry and while it is flattering Steve doesn't really care until Tony says he'd marry Bruce instead. He's not sure why that irks him so much.
Dirty Boss by silentinhill
Mr. Stark couldn't help himself.
Everybody Wonders (What It Would Be Like to Love You) by @soldiersshield
“...Is that what this is about?” He asks slowly. Steve blanches.
“Oh my god. It is.” Tony has no right looking as giddy as he does. “Steven Grant Rogers, are you jealous?”
Nobody Panic, Everything's Fine by @intelligentbees
Steve doesn't get jealous. He doesn't. Honestly.
It's just...well- Tony's been spending an awful lot of time with a new employee. Who's smarter than him. And funnier. And more interesting and generally a better match for Tony than he ever would be.
But he's not jealous. Honestly.
Poster Child Redux: Steve's POV by @sabrecmc
Tony likes the new Captain America poster. A LOT.
Steve likes Tony. A LOT.
These two boys need to stop thinking about it and get together.
Stop Flirting With My Tony by jinxedtiger
Steve accepts the fact that his boyfriend of a few months is famous, popular, etc. They announced their relationship forever ago but noooooo. Everyone still flirts with the billionaire.
Steve's patience is running thin and Tony's trying so hard not to laugh at the poor guy. (he'll have to resort to other methods to remind the soldier just how much he loves him)
#jealous steve is a crowd pleaser <3#steve is not actually a jealous man but he might be if he ever got to KEEP ANYONE HE LOVED#it doesn't get realer than when steve responds to his own jealousy with guilt first and foremost#stony#stevetony#fic rec#*
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House MD fans: You wake up in the PPTH ER in summer 2004. What you doing?
Scenario parameters:
All your memories of the show and the past 20 years are intact.
You are stuck there/then and cannot return to our universe/year.
You have nothing but the hospital gown on your back.
Questions:
So, what do you do?
How much would you tell House?
How would you get him to believe you?
Who else would you tell?
How much would you tell them?
Inspiration:
The author self-insert isekai fanfic "Intervention" by VivatRex (aka @acrownforaking). They've been writing it for the past 11+ years and are still updating. It's already nearly 300k words long despite only being up to the events of S02E15. I AM IN AWE.
I haven't been able to stop thinking about this scenario ever since I read that fanfic a month ago. I'd love to discuss it with other House MD fans and hear what you would do.
(Apologies to the mutuals for the abrupt blog topic change. A new brainrot has taken hold.)
My short answer:
My long answers are below the cut.
So, what do you do?
My primary objective would be to enlist House in averting the pandemic.
My reasoning: If anyone can nip it in the bud before it gets out of Wuhan, I figure that a world-renowned genius doctor who is an infectious diseases specialist, speaks Mandarin, and now has a 15-year head start would have the best chance.
Difficulty level: Babysitting a narcissistic manchild with the self-preservation instincts of a toddler until the year 2020 so that he makes it there then alive, out of prison, and with his sanity, medical license, and professional reputation intact. To quote Quantum Leap, "Ohhhhhh boooooooy."
Strategy: I'm in the "I could fix him, but whatever's wrong with him is way funnier" camp, so I wouldn't try to change him (that always backfires anyway). Instead, I'd try to change his circumstances:
A stable romantic relationship would help, so I'd seduce him if I can (I'm not his type but a gal's gotta shoot her shot), try to get him together with Dominika earlier if I can't, and tell him how horribly his relationship with Cuddy ended so he knows better than to even start it.
Avert the shooting. Moriaty was a patient so his info is in the PPTH files. I AM THE ONE WHO KNOCKS. Or for a less murdery approach, try to get him arrested in April 2006 for violating New Jersey's strict gun laws.
Warn House about Tritter so he can switch patients with another clinic doctor.
Warn House to never get on a bus with Amber.
Tell Kutner I'm from the future and he's the only one who can prevent something horrible from happening (he's a Trekkie so he'll want to believe), then unfurl my big timeline poster and point at the "Kutner suicide early 2009" stickynote and ask him "so what's up with that, dude?"
Tell Wilson everything I can remember about his cancer -- he's an oncologist and thus can work backwards from there to figure out when to start checking for it so he can cut the tumor out while it's still just a tiny baby.
I would take a harm reduction approach to House's drug use, e.g., suggest that he try microdosing psilocybin and extend his liver's lifespan by substituting cannabis for some of his Vicodin and alcohol consumption.
Methods: Even though he doesn't have one for most of the show, House mentions a few times that he's entitled to hire an assistant, and I happen to be excellent at administrative work.
I think he'd be willing to hire me because working as his executive assistant / department secretary would position me to recognize patients as they come in so that I can discreetly pass along anything I remember, e.g., the kindergarten teacher has pork worms in her brain, ask the scientist in Antarctica to show you her feet, etc.
Meanwhile, I could lurk around the hospital preventing miscellaneous shit, e.g., get the gift shop volunteer from S01E04 to go home sick, ensure that the gunman from S05E09 is promptly admitted, diagnosed, and treated before he snaps and takes hostages, etc.
Possible sidequests:
Use my foreknowlege to get rich by milking online poker bonuses until the passage of the UIGEA in 2006, use my poker money to start flipping houses until 2007, get in on the "Big Short" in 2008, and set a Google Alert for "Bitcoin" so I can start mining/buying it from day one. Unfortunately, I haven't paid enough attention to individual stocks to play the market other than knowing that Amazon would be a good long-term buy & hold.
Use my riches to change the outcome of the 2016 election and try to steer the development of the internet and society in general in a slightly less stupid direction.
Send Pete Carroll a letter postdated just before the 2013 Superbowl telling him the outcome, then suggest for the final play of the 2014 Superbowl that the Seahawks try handing the ball off to Marshawn Lynch instead of throwing it because that throw will be intercepted. PRIORITIES.
How much would you tell House? How would you get him to believe you?
Your story about being from the future of an alternate universe in which House and everyone he knows are characters on a fictional TV show is already too batshit crazy to believe even without his kneejerk "everybody lies" skepticism. How would you differentiate yourself from all the patients who pull crazy stunts to try to get him to take their case?
My answer: For the "from the future" part, I'm hoping there's some sort of test that House could run to confirm that I was indeed vaccinated with a mRNA vaccine against the COVID-19/SARS-COV-2 virus. Given that neither of those things existed in 2004, that would be physical evidence that I'm not from around here now.
If producing physical evidence isn't possible, then I know that Vegetative State Guy from S03E15 is already a patient at PPTH because he'd been there for 10 years, so I'd find him and tell House about his son. I could also tell House enough about the cases from the first few episodes that I'm pretty sure he'd believe me by Christmas. I want in on Chinese food with Wilson.
I would wait until House accepted the "from the future" part before broaching the "fictional TV show" issue. Until then, "I watched a TV show about your life and cases" is a 100% true statement and it's not my fault if he assumes that show was a documentary. :)
Once he believed me, I'd tell him everything.
Who else would you tell? How much would you tell them?
There are people out there who would literally kill for your knowledge of the future, so going public or being too open about it seems highly risky.
My answer: I'd tell House, Wilson, and Chase right away. Kutner but not before Jan 2009. Maybe eventually Cuddy and the rest of the Diagnostics team if keeping my foreknowledge of the future from them proves too difficult.
House is the only one who gets to know everything. Everyone else is on a "need to know" basis.
I might also bring Bill Arnello (the brother/lawyer of the mob informant in S01E15 "Mob Rules") into the circle of trust because he could be a very useful resource for some of my sidequests, e.g., changing the outcome of the 2016 election far far far in advance and in the most direct way possible. (Hi, Secret Service! This is a purely hypothetical discussion about time travel and not at all indicative of any real criminal intent, pls do not pay me a visit, kthxbai.)
I think the only people I would tell the "fictional TV show" part to would be House, Wilson, and Chase, because there are things I need to warn them about that definitely wouldn't have been in a documentary. Like Chase needs to know that killing Diballa is 100% the right thing to do but he seriously needs to work on his OpSec. Everyone else gets the implied documentary lie of omission.
If I get caught knowing too much by random patients, I'll just claim to be psychic. Way more people believe in that than would believe in time travel.
What would you do?
#House#House MD#isekai#time travel#fanfic rec#fanfic recommendation#house md fanfiction#i have the brainrot#greg house#gregory house#james wilson#wilson#robert chase#chase#lawrence kutner#kutner#dr house#dr wilson#dr chase#dr kutner#hate crimes md#fanfiction: intervention#time travel problems
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Ren Faire (Eddie/Steve)
Summary: Steve, Eddie, and Robin go to a Renaissance Fair and see some interesting demonstrations. (This fic is for my lovely friend @gigglyrambles!! I literally just pulled this whole plot out of my ass and wrote it in one sitting, so I really hope you like it, LOL. Also, shoutout to @wordstrings because I know she has written something similar for Our Flag Means Death, I hope you don't mind me taking inspiration!!)
Steve isn’t sure how he ended up being dragged along to a Renaissance Fair with none other than Robin and Eddie, but he found it hard to say no to either of their puppy dog eyes and incessant begging.
His outfit is simple, consisting of a white, long-sleeved shirt with laces at the neckline, tight brown pants, and brown boots. He feels only a little bit ridiculous, but after seeing what his friends are wearing, he supposes he isn’t the weirdest looking one.
Eddie is decked out in black, an intricately detailed top with ruffles and buttons. A fake sword sits in a holder on his waist. Robin has gone for a more masculine look, a cloak over her shoulders and a bow and arrow in her hand.
“Screw historical accuracy,” she’d said.
“The fact that you’re a girl isn’t the problem, it’s that you couldn’t hit a moving target with an arrow to save your life,” Eddie had teased, and Robin had elbowed him in the ribs, making Steve laugh.
Now that they’ve arrived, Steve has relaxed a bit. He used to feel out of place whenever he attended events that he wouldn’t have been caught dead at in high school. Corroded Coffin concerts, DnD campaigns, and that one time he drove Eddie and Robin to the nearest gay bar in Indiana. It had definitely been more awkward sober, and before he realized that he’s bisexual, and could have totally had more fun if he’d been aware of and okay with that information at the time.
He’s sort of glad he wasn’t, though, because kissing Eddie Munson during a childish game of truth or dare was a much funnier way to have your queer awakening, and dating Eddie Munson is way more fun than hooking up with random guys in a bar.
“They have really good beer here,” Eddie comments, to which Steve holds up his car keys and jingles them. No medieval mead is going to keep him from being the designated driver.
“I can drive us home,” Robin says, absolutely joking, but Steve still gives her a horrified look and makes a show of sliding his keys back into his pocket, patting the denim for safe keeping. She sticks her tongue out at him, and he flicks her cheek.
Eddie does end up getting some beer, and Steve allows himself a few sips. They’ll be here for at least a few hours, he’ll surely sober up by then. He also samples the gigantic turkey leg that Eddie gets, and Robin wrinkles her nose in disgust at the messy nature of the food.
As they walk around, Steve finds himself getting into the spirit more than he had expected. They eat, watch musical performances, and shop at the little stalls set up by various vendors. Eddie buys a few rings for himself, and buys a handmade mug for Uncle Wayne. Robin indulges in candles and soaps, and even dares to see a fortune teller.
“She said that I’ll meet my future husband soon,” she says, giggling. “Clearly she’s a fraud, or she’d know I’m not interested.”
When Robin runs off to find a bathroom, somehow, Eddie and Steve end up standing around a demonstration about medieval punishments and torture, which Steve expects to be gruesome, and quickly finds he would rather hear gritty, gorey details than stand her and watch this happen.
A pretty girl, probably around their age, is locked into a pair of wooden stocks, and—
“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Steve mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers.
Eddie looks absolutely delighted as he leans in close. “What’s wrong, Stevie? The demonstration isn’t bothering you, is it?” he asks. His cheeks are flushed, too. A few months ago, Eddie would probably be the one stuttering and staring at the ground right now, but ever since he introduced this little world to Steve, he’s gained a confidence about it that only comes out when he gets to tease Steve into oblivion.
“Shut up.”
“You shut up, I’m trying to watch. Maybe I can get some pointers from these guys.”
‘These guys’ refers to the two men who have started tickling the girl’s trapped feet, and frantic giggles fill the air and make Steve’s stomach flip.
“Oh, she’s handling this better than you would,” Eddie continues to tease. “I’d already be called every insult under the sun if you couldn’t kick me instead.”
“I will kick you right now,” Steve threatens. It’s a complete lie. He’s frozen to the spot on the grass, torn between watching and focusing on the grass. Everyone else in the crowd is behaving like this is so normal, no big deal, just a silly show.
One of the men has moved behind the girl to tickle her ribs, her arms secured above her head. Steve crosses his arms over his chest, subconsciously protecting his own sensitive spots, like just watching her could tickle him, too.
“You love that spot,” Eddie coos. “You make the cutest sounds when I tickle you there.”
“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you,” Steve grits out.
“Sure you will, sweetheart. Can it wait ‘til after I’ve made you cry real pretty for me?”
Just then, Robin appears at his side. “This looks like my worst nightmare,” she says. “I hope this girl is getting paid well.”
Steve makes a noise of agreement, but can’t bring himself to look over. Eddie Munson is going to be the fucking death of him. Thankfully, Robin is immediately bored of the display and drags them off to explore. Eddie subtly gives Steve’s side a quick pinch as he walks past him, and Steve suddenly can’t wait to go home.
***
“You are a fucking menace,” Steve accuses the moment they’ve made it through the door.
His parents aren’t home, Robin was dropped off back at her house, and now, Steve is alone with Eddie for the first time all day, and he refuses to voice how excited he is for whatever Eddie’s got planned.
But Eddie just grins, tugging off the more elaborate pieces of his costume, leaving himself in socks, boxers, and a white t-shirt. He makes his way to the kitchen, comes back with two cans of beer, sits on the couch like he isn’t ignoring the clear tension in the room.
Steve gapes at him for a minute before joining him on the couch, kicking off his boots and taking a beer as well. Maybe Eddie’s changed his mind…Maybe he just isn’t the mood, and Steve isn’t going to pressure him into anything.
But…Well, he has a sneaking suspicion that isn’t the case at all.
“If you’re waiting for me to ask, it’s not gonna happen,” he says.
“Ask for what?” Eddie tilts his head curiously, but there’s a glint in his eye that proves Steve’s theory.
“Nothing,” Steve replies, playing along. “All that talk back there just made me think you had a plan for when we got home. But if you’re not interested, that’s fine too.”
“Did you want me to have a plan?”
Steve huffs. “Maybe. But if you don’t, then let’s forget about it.”
“Oh, c’mon baby,” Eddie says, throwing an arm around Steve’s shoulders and pulling him close. “All you’ve gotta do is ask if you want it so bad.”
His cheeks burn. Stubborn as ever, he shakes his head.
Eddie sighs with exaggerated disappointment. “If you insist. I guess I’ll just keep my hands to myself tonight…”
“Good,” Steve says, and turns the television on.
It takes two beers and a stupid scene in a film to break him. It’s a quick, barely there tickle, but the character’s laugh makes Steve perk up like a dog hearing a doorbell ring.
“Fine,” he says.
“What’s fine?” Eddie asks.
“Just fucking tickle me, you dick.”
Eddie grins and wastes no time, lunging across the couch and pinning Steve to the cushions.
“I knew you’d crack eventually, sweetheart,” he teases. “Sorry we don’t have quite the same set up, but I’ll hold you down real nice, okay?”
Steve is already grinning. He can’t help it, he’s so lovestruck by his boyfriend and desperate to laugh his head off. And laugh he does when Eddie goes straight for his ribs, scratching at the dips between each little bone.
“There’s that pretty sound,” he says, pressing a kiss to Steve’s jaw that is both sweet and ticklish under the current circumstance.
The stupid shirt with the laces is pulled over his head and discarded on the floor, and Eddie pins Steve’s wrists and tells him to stay still before exploring each ticklish spot on his torso, making him shriek and cackle and snort like a fool.
He doesn’t stay still for very long, arms shooting down to his sides when Eddie attacks his belly with blunt fingernails, and Eddie scolds him but doesn’t stop.
As he squirms on the couch, giggling like mad, he wonders if they sell some of those bondage contraptions there. He thinks that they should go back to the Ren Faire sometime.
#steddie#steddie ticklefic#steddie tickle fic#stranger things ticklefic#stranger things tickle fic#stranger things tickling#steddie fic#steddie fluff#stranger things#tickle fic#ticklefic#raspberry writes
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Lance knows the tradition. And as much as he often rolls his eyes about doing things just because “that’s how it’s always been done”, there are some things about it he really loves. Someone on their knees, in front of friends and family in some beautiful location, asking you to give them the honour of marrying you?
Absolutely fuckin’ dreamy. Lance would love that shit. He would be unashamedly riding that attention high for years. He used to daydream about it, to; talking to his siblings when they were up late, painting their nails and talking shit about whomever for fun. He knows he’s definitely explained ad nauseam his preference for a pretty diamond ring placed on his finger to the backdrop of the sun setting on the waves.
But, as it always does, life does not go according to plan.
His faceless daydreams were only fantasies. There’s nothing wrong with them — fantasies are fun, and can even be a basis for reality — they just didn’t match up with where he ended up! At no point in his life could he ever have expected to fall so deeply in love with the man he’d sworn so vehemently to hate. At no point could he ever have predicted being swept up into a war beyond his greatest comprehension with that man at his side, or to lead a war with that man. He could never have predicted the softness that would bloom between them, the gentle moments that would be just as frequent as the intense competitions.
Honestly, he never could have predicted Keith. Who could have? Keith is… he’s just so much. Of everything. There’s not a single thing he does that he doesn’t do with his whole heart and soul. He cares so deeply and intensely; his love is so all-encompassing… sometimes Lance lies in bed and is rendered breathless by the force of it; of him. He can scarcely believe that he is so lucky, that the universe aligned so carefully, that he has the chance to love Keith and be loved by Keith, in every day and in every way.
It’s a lot. It’s everything, really.
And so that’s why it has to be perfect. Away with the small crowd of friends and family, with the public space and pomp and circumstance — as much as Keith loves their family, and loves indulging Lance (seriously. What Keith wouldn’t do to make Lance happy… it makes Lance giddy just to remember it. He is so, so fucking lucky. He scored), Lance knows he values his privacy. Hell, it took nearly an entire year for anyone else to know that they were dating. Not because Keith was ashamed of him, or because either of them were afraid, but because Keith kind of likes to keep things to himself. He likes it when it’s just him and Lance, when they have inside jokes and secrets and moments that are just theirs.
Lance likes it too, frankly. Plus, there was nothing funnier than the pure outrage on all of their friends’ faces when they realised they’d been blind to Keith and Lance for eleven whole months. Truly a moment Lance has cherished.
All this to say that Lance has been preparing to finally ask Keith to be his husband. He’s told no one — not even Hunk — but several weeks ago he measured Keith’s ring size as he slept, and worked carefully with a jeweller to design something he knew Keith would love. That was the easy part. The harder part has been carving out the right time in both of their schedules; a time when they can give each other their full attention for long enough that Lance can do the asking and then have some time after for… ahem, celebrating.
(Lance has been looking forward to that part especially.)
But finally all the stars aligned — the two of them had a week off after spending three months on a Balmera with restoration efforts — and Lance can put his plan into motion.
The first thing he does is send Keith on some random errands. That buys him a few hours to set up the alcove by their front door — a collage of pictures of them over the years, pinned artfully to the wall; bundles of Keith’s favourite flowers, poppies and California lilies and sunflowers and desert roses; and perhaps most ostentatiously, a goofy banner that Lance hand-painted with the magic question. Is it elegant? Not really. A little tacky? Possibly.
But although Keith would rather surgically remove his tongue than admit it, he eats this shit up. He grew up with Shiro, for Christ’s sake. The man as watched every romcom ever made, and loves them all to pieces. Lance has watched 10 Things I Hate About You with him more times than he can physically count.
Once he’s satisfied with how the alcove is set up, he digs the velvet box out of its hiding place, tucking it carefully into his jeans pocket and settling into the truck to go pick up Keith.
If Lance was following his daydreams, they’d both be dolled up to the nines and heading to some fancy restaurant. Instead, Lance is wearing his dark red shirt that he knows makes Keith cross-eyed and his good jeans that make his legs look long. He knows that Keith is wearing his favourite flannel and his rattiest pair of converse, which Lance has had to literally patch back together because Keith refuses to throw the damn things out.
It fits better, somehow.
“Where are we headed, Casanova?” Keith asks, after trying (and failing) to convince Lance to let him drive. (As if. It’s Lance’s turn. The schedule says so and everything.)
“Surprise,” Lance says vaguely. He glances as surreptitiously as possible into the backseat, making sure that he did, in fact, remember to pack the food and the blankets.
(He did. He has also checked fourteen billion times. He is, although he knows it’s silly, the slightest bit nervous, apparently.)
“C’mon,” Keith prods, sliding a free hand into Lance’s hand. “Can’t I get a hint, baby? Just a little bit?”
“I am trying to drive. Keep that shit up and we’re gonna crash, you walking distraction.”
Keith laughs — cackles, really — but pulls his hand away.
“Loser. If I drove, you could distract me all you wanted and we’d still be fine.”
Lance reaches over blindly to grab Keith’s hand back, bringing it up to his lips and pressing a kiss to the tops of his knuckles.
“Not a chance, babe.”
———
When they finally make it to their destination (after an hour of Keith complaining about the drive, trying to convince Lance to tell him where they’re going, and switching through every available radio station twelve thousand times before he’s satisfied), Lance throws the truck in park and practically sprints to open Keith’s door before he has the chance.
“Dork,” Keith teases, flicking him on the nose as he hops out.
Lance grins. “You love it.”
“You’ll never prove it.” He takes Lance’s offered hand, then looks around. “Where are we?”
Lance hums, carefully swinging the backpack he brought over his shoulders and tugging Keith away from the truck.
“Well, you see, my boyfriend is this massive nerd,” he starts playfully. Keith rolls his eyes, grinning.
“Nerd, you say, as if you don’t have alphabetized samples of cool rocks from every planet we’ve ever been on.”
Lance ignores the jab, plowing right on. “And because he is this massive nerd, I figured he would appreciate frolicking through the desert until we come to a decent spot, then eating this dope ass dinner I made for us —” he pats the backpack — “while watching the meteor shower that’s supposed to be visible tonight.” He grins widely at Keith’s excited gasp. “I know it’s nothing we haven’t seen before a million times, but I thought it’d be nice.”
Keith says nothing, using their joined hands to yank Lance towards him and kiss him soundly.
“Sounds good to me,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to Lance’s lips, his jaw, his throat.
“Keith,” Lance says, breathless. Like everything with them, this has rapidly escalated off-course.
Why are they like this, again?
“We’ve got an itinerary, babe, we’ve gotta — oh, God, do that again.”
He feels Keith’s smirk against the hollow of his throat. “Wouldn’t be the first time we messed our plans in favour of the truck bed, sugar.”
“Itinerary,” Lance tries again, weakly.
“Truck’s right there,” Keith reiterates.
Lance has a lot of discipline, okay?
But Keith is convincing. He knows exactly which buttons of Lance’s to press.
And, if Lance is being entirely honest, he loves indulging Keith as much as Keith loves indulging him.
———
Their food goes cold.
“This is your fault,” Lance says, pointing a fork at the perpetrator in question. “I had this hot and ready to eat, and you stubbornly decided to be a distraction, you dick.”
Keith is entirely unapologetic.
“There was something else that was hot and ready for me to eat,” he says, looking pointedly at Lance’s ass and grinning wolfishly.
Lance smacks the shit out of him with a pillow.
“You are a dog!”
He’s laughing, though, as he says it, so it doesn’t quite have the desired effect. Keith has no qualms with teasing him right back, either, both of them spending as much time eating as they do roasting each other.
God, Lance cannot wait to put a ring on this bitch. The meteor shower better hurry the fuck up so Lance can take them home and get down on one knee, already.
As soon as Lance thinks it, Keith gasps, grabbing Lance’s arms and pointing at the sky.
“Look! It’s starting!”
It’s slow going, at first, barely one flash of light every five minutes, but eventually shooting stars are racing through the sky as thousands of rocks burn to nothing in Earth’s atmosphere.
Lance nudges Keith’s side. “Bet you’re wishing that Hunk brings another dozen eggs to the next diplomatic meeting to throw at people when they say stupid things.”
“There’s no way you knew that!” Keith protests immediately. “I must have spoken out loud!”
“Nope! I just know you, baby.”
“Well, I bet you wished that Allura and Veronica will finally kiss this month so you win the betting pool!”
They spend the rest of the meteor shower like that — frantically shouting out what they think the other wished after each star that shoots by. They’re both right a good half of the time, too.
It makes something warm and fiery ignite in Lance’s belly, to have someone who knows him so deeply. Without even talking about it.
It’s the best thing Lance could possibly wish for.
———
By the time the meteor shower ends, they’ve eaten their food, and it’s something like three in the morning. Keith yawns every few minutes, and doesn’t even bother with the radio on the way home, simply resting his head on the window and closing his eyes for a while. He doesn’t fall asleep — his hand is tangled with Lance’s, and his thumb runs constant lines over the backs of his knuckles — but he’s too tired to be fully awake, either.
Not Lance. Lance feels like he’s buzzing, the breeze from his cracked-open window the only thing keeping him from going supernova. He’s so excited he can barely breathe.
When they finally get home, Lance rushes again to open Keith’s door, who grins tiredly at him and presses a kiss to his cheek before following him inside. Lance takes a deep breath before opening the door, stepping quickly to the alcove and grabbing the ring from his pocket as Keith walks in.
Aaaannd… right past him.
Lance’s jaw drops. Keith is so tired he doesn’t even notice the newly decorated alcove, or even Lance — he simply walks to the kitchen with their picnic supplies. Lance hears him hum as he starts to put their dirty dishes in the dishwasher, their leftovers in the fridge.
“Lance, babe,” he calls, “do you care if I eat the last of the pan frito? It’s better fresh.”
Lance glances down at the ring. He barely holds himself back from cackling with laughter, because of course Keith is so distracted that he didn’t even notice Lance down on one knee.
“How about you come in here for a second, first?” Lance responds, voice shaking with amusement.
“What? No, come here if you want some! I’ll share, but I just mopped the floor yesterday, I don’t want to get crumbs all over it.”
“Keith,” Lance tries again, “come here for a goddamn second, will ya?”
“Alright, Jesus,” Keith grumbles. In what Lance assumes to be spite, he takes a couple minutes, before he finally turns the corner and sees Lance for the first time.
His freezes, the dishtowel he was carrying flutters to the ground.
“L-Lance? What’s going — what —”
“I have a question for you, sweetheart,” Lance says. He grins teasingly. “Would’ve asked earlier, but you walked right by me.”
“Oh my God.”
“You paying attention, now?”
“Oh my God!”
Before Lance can blink, Keith rushes forward, tackling Lance to the ground and pressing kisses all over his face; anywhere he can reach.
“Yes! Yes! Yes —”
Lance sets the ring in his lap so he can grab Keith’s frantic, fluttering hands.
“I haven’t even asked yet, babe.”
“Well, get to it!”
Lance snorts, but complies. “Keith Kogane,” he says, smile softening and gaze steady. “Will you marry me?”
Keith laughs, holding his left hand out to Lance, his right hand wiping the tears that have dropped down his cheeks.
“Yes, Lance McClain, I will marry you,” he chokes out. Lance grins brightly as he slides the ring up Keith’s fourth finger. The second the ring is in place, Keith smashes their mouths together, knocking Lance flat on his back.
He doesn’t mind.
It’s way better than a traditional proposal, anyway.
———
based on this video (ninth slide)
#that video made me LAUGH and i thought about Them immediately#vld#voltron#lance#lance mcclain#keith#keith kogane#klance#established klance#marriage proposal#fluff#banter#adhd keith#keith has adhd#tall keith#my writing#fic#longpost
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I saw a post about this a hot minute ago and I'm so mad I can't find it BUT. While I LOVE Present Mic as a popular radio personality, there isn't really that much concrete evidence to support that idea. (Which, to be fair, there isn't a lot of concrete evidence about the careers/public perception of a lot of pros outside of All Might, Endeavor, sorta Hawks, etc., so you can pry that headcanon out of my grasp with a crowbar and so on.) That being said, I think a really fun angle to explore re: Present Mic as a radio host-pro hero-UA teacher (that I may or may not have the bare bones of a fic about👀) is the idea that Mic debuted as a very successful hero and entertainer, and experienced pretty steady growth in both aspects of his career for a few years before he took a teaching position at UA.
Hero rankings are based on incidents resolved, and can be damaged by taking any amount of time off (such as when the Wild Wild Pussycats took, what? A couple of months off from hero-ing? and their ranking plummeted by several hundred places). Teaching is time consuming; it's the kind of job that often necessitates 'bringing work home' with you in the form of grading, lesson planning, etc. Obviously it would cut into Mic's focus on his hero work and his radio show, and obviously that would affect not only his actual ranking but how much attention his career/persona garnered. After all, there is an influx of new heroes every single year when hero courses across the country graduate. It takes work to stay relevant in this universe.
So now I'm thinking of like. Present Mic but with the level of fame/popularity of a celebrity who was big a handful of years ago, but you don't hear so much about anymore. Like, yeah, they're still active, and still have a (often very dedicated) fanbase, but they've kind of been shuffled out of the spotlight a little bit. This also makes his lackluster reception at the entrance exam so much funnier imo, because those students would have been like 8-9 when he stopped just doing hero/radio stuff and started teaching, but they're teenagers now and Present Mic is sooo not in anymore.
#i think maybe students 3-A's age and older would have clearer memories of present mic in his heyday#so maybe he seems a little more like a celebrity to them#anyway! picking away at this fic set ~4 years pre canon like a magpie picking at shiny things for a nest#featuring a surprise guest in such a literal way you have no idea#yamada hizashi#i have THOUGHTS (i have present mic obsessive disorder)#liza blather#q#i'm going to say something a little out there but. present mic is to 3-A's age bracket#as kelly clarkson was to me specifically in high school#i don't know how to elaborate on that so i won't and it'll be like a little insane secret take for anyone who reads tags#last week kicked my butt here's wonderwall
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Saturday, jack is going to make thousands laugh. But imagine when he makes hazel laugh for the first time
“Baby giggles”
You and Jack had both been trying to get Hazel to giggle for a few weeks now, you had read in all the baby books that around four months is when a baby would start to giggle. She was constantly making cooing sounds so you figured it would be any day now.
It started off super intentional, you’d play peek a boo, make funny faces and funny noises but no luck. Jack would do the same, tug on his ears, making funny faces and sounds but nothing worked. Hazel would watch the both of you with a smile but never a giggle.
You were in the kitchen, wiping down the counter and wearing Hazel in her baby carrier as usual. Jack walked over to you and bent down to kiss you. Trying to make Hazel laugh wasn’t his priority at the moment as he was beginning to feel like it wouldn’t happen anytime soon.
“I think she’s broken” Jack teased randomly causing you to look at him confused “what? Who?” He laughed at your response “Hazel!” You couldn’t help but laugh yourself “babe, you’re putting too much pressure on the situation. It’s cute really but any day now I’m sure.” He smiled at your reassurance “ I’m glad I still make you laugh though” he pointed out your giggle and you smiled.
“Do you have plans today?” He sighed “yeah, I have two meetings with the label this afternoon but after that I’m free, why what’s up?”
“I was just wondering” you smiled, continuing to clean. Jack held his arms out to hold Hazel and he helped you take off the carrier.
“I’m going to take a shower, you got her?” You asked as you finished putting away the dishes.
“Of course mommy” Jack used Hazels arm to wave you off.
Once you were in the shower, Jack sat with Hazel on the couch. “Okay kiddo, it’s okay to admit. I’m funnier than mommy, if you don’t wanna hurt her feelings I totally get it but you have to give me something” he laughed to himself as he realized he was talking to his infant. Hazel watched her dad intently, babbling and blowing spit bubbles.
“You’re so pretty baby” Jack started talking to Hazel as he usually did with or without you around. “Mommy says you look like me but I see so much of her in you, so I don’t know. I guess we’ll see.” He smiled, running his finger across her chubby cheeks.
You had just gotten out of the shower when you heard Jack singing to Hazel, a smile spread across your face and you didn’t want to interrupt so you stood off to the side. Jack didn’t see you immediately but when he did he jumped a little, you had clearly startled him.
Hazel giggled almost immediately, watching her dad practically jump out of his skin startled her too but also made her giggle. She giggled for a while, which the both of you audibly “awww’d” too.
You and Jack looked at each other with wide eyes. “Did she really- did she just?” You asked and Jack nodded, he was smiling so hard that his cheeks hurt. “Apparently you scaring me half to death made her giggle” he said as he laughed himself.
“So she has your face and my humor? Cool! ” you smirked and he shook his head, the two of you smiling at your infant daughter.
“If I would’ve known that’s all it took I would’ve pretended to be scared a long time ago” he said nonchalantly.
“Oh it was pretend huh?” You teased and he laughed. “Something like that” he smiled back at you.
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happy 1 year of r&r :)
i know it's a lil cringe to like. celebrate the birthday of a series on ao3 but r&r is literally my child. my baby. i birthed this series. and you all signed up for this when u started reading my fics thank u
soooooooo thank u guys for all the support i've received over r&r i know it's hard to stay a consistent reader when my posting schedule is entirely non existent but i am so grateful for everyone who's stuck around this long and been with me for this journey (calling it a journey because a year ago i did not have any sort of overarching plot in mind and now we're 17? 18? fics deep and so many things have happened and i'm usually just as surprised as my readers) it's rlly u guys that have kept me going this long
ANYWAY. i rewrote this like 500 times cause i hate being like. overly sappy on this account because it's way funnier to act like a celebrity with a huge ego, but real talk i am so proud of everything i've done w this series & what it's become in the past year
i've been posting my writing online since i was like 10, so we're going on almost 9 years now and i don't think i've ever ever ever received as much support for something as i have for r&r and something about that is soooo special to me??? idk it's just so nice to see a completely self indulgent series become so loved by others, especially since the only other fics i had up before gmm&m were a little more on the "i'm gonna write what seems popular right now" side???
like shoutout to everyone who was here before/around when i started the series because my account was so empty like. 2 fics and one gets updated every 6 months. r&r pulled me out of the trench i fear. it also cured me of my very horrible disease that makes me delete all my fics after 9 months and then completely disappear from a fandom so everyone say thank you r&r
but yeah idk where i'm going with this i'm very grateful for r&r and all the friends i've made and people i've met through it because i was very lonely before i rejoined tumblr and r&r was like. 90% of the reason i made my account
AND SPEAKING OF FRIENDS. thank u to
@spidergrotto & @sapoteylx for being the first ppl i met on here to openly talk about and support r&r which i thought was so so cool even if you guys have become my haters in the past few months i've known you :/ thank u r&r nation u keep me humble and miserable (and i am very thankful for our friendship i think some aspects of r&r would be very different if we'd never met)
& ao3 user classactical because you've been here since like. a month or two into the series i think and i always always always look forward to your comments because i feel like if you comment, i did a good job on the fic LOL thank u for sticking around for so long, even if ao3 has been actively working against you for a whiiiiile
there's a lot more i want to say and a lot of people i want to mention but that would take a very long time and i always feel weird tagging a lot of people in posts so just know if u read r&r we are kissing rn. or high fiving idk whatever floats ur boat i guess
but yeah anyway tl:dr happy birthday r&r i'm very proud of this series & very thankful for everyone who has read any part of it ever u guys are so cool and hot and have amazing taste and i'm taking your kudos and bookmarks etc. as you swearing your allegiance to me and promising me your undying support no matter what (legally binding btw) thank u guys
#r&r tease#ough i cannot believe r&r is a year old#happy birthday r&r you are my favorite child#gonna go post that fic now#or in like 10 minutes#idk i haven't edited anything#stay tuned
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Our little game
~Part 2~ ~Part 3~ ~Part 4~ ~Part 5~
Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x witch! reader
Summary: You and Klaus have been playing this game between yourselves since your first meeting. One day, you two would fight with each other like dogs, and the next day, you would flirt and act like people completely mad with love. But whatever was between you two, you would never lose this game and admit that you fell for him. He would only use you for your power, right? At least that's what you were telling yourself all this time.
Words count: 4,2k
I had no idea what I was doing here.
Wearing one of my fancy black dresses, I was staying in the middle of Mikaelson's compound in New Orleans, with hundreds of people surrounding me.
I was definitely making a huge mistake.
But a few hours ago, when my Mystic Falls gang tried (and failed) to kill these crazy heretics who came to our town two weeks ago, I could only think about coming here.
I needed to find a safe place to stay until Damon or Stefan called for my help.
But after hours of driving here, I wasn't sure if I still wanted to be a part of their group. Yes, I loved them all, especially Bonnie, who became my main "witch-teacher" after I found out I was like her, but sometimes I felt used by them. My power was stronger than any typical witch's. Even Bonnie was surprised to see the things I was able to do until my strength was exhausted and my nose started to bleed.
One day, Damon said that I was their greatest weapon. Then I burst out laughing. Now I'm not so sure how much the black-haired man was joking and how much his words were true. But I had to keep the promise I gave myself and stay with them, if only for Bonnie's sake. She would have killed herself trying to protect her friends, and I wouldn't let that happen. After all she did for me, I have to repay her debt of gratitude.
I turned on the radio while driving to nowhere and heard one of my favorite Mikaelson's, beloved, old songs, which was "better when it played at ball without this strange background sound." That's when I remembered Rebekah and her last words before leaving for New Orleans with her brothers: "You know, if your gang falls apart, you can always come to me. It would be funnier to have a partner in crime against Nik."
After a lengthy moral debate within me, I decided to fuck Salvatore's opinion of me and visit their nemesis. If Damon was so smart to make and realize his own crass plan without telling anyone, I could do something really stupid too and spend a week (or more) with Rebekah. After all, no one could control me.
Then it seemed like a very good plan.
Now with so many people around me, I decide that I have made a great mistake.
I totally forgot that four days ago, Bekah told me about the "engaged party" of Katherine and Elijah. (Thank God for my magic. At least I could turn pants and a T-shirt into a pretty dress.) I sent my gift to the happy couple with separate, joking congratulations to Katherine for "entrapping her Mikaelson after a long couple of centuries" without actually intending to attend the party.
Elena and Caroline would skin me if they knew that instead of buying them fancy birthday presents, I spent my money on something special for my best friend's big day.
In retrospect, I'd like to see their faces. They would be invaluable. Especially Damon's.
"My God, look who arrived!" a familiar voice snapped me out of my thoughts.
"Hi Beks." I turned around to face her.
"Hi Beks? You appear here without telling me or Katherine anything; you hide in the crowd with a mean expression on your face, and all I get after months apart is a simple "hi"?"
"Well, in my defense, I was thinking about bringing you wine, flowers, cake and saying, "I'm sorry, baby," but I figured it would be only a waste of time and my money because you're going to yell at me anyway. Also, your boyfriend would be jealous." she started laughing and pulled me into a hug.
"I haven't seen you for too long."
"Bekah, we were talking yesterday morning."
"You called her yesterday and didn't call me?!" I heard Katherine's resentful voice behind me.
"You look gorgeous, honey. Engagement suits you." she gave me an unimpressed look. "Oh, c'mon. Don't be angry. I'm here now, ready to give you compliments and fight with your fiance's brother, who loathes you. Now, show me the ring. I want to see how much money Elijah was willing to spend on you." she burst out laughing, waving her ringed hand in front of my eyes.
"You realize you're not getting off so easily? Besides, something must have happened for you to suddenly decide to come."
"We can talk tomorrow. Tonight, it's about you and your undying love for her brother." I pointed to Rebekah.
"Talking about my brothers. We'll use some help with Nik's composure for the rest of the evening."
"It is so bad?"
"Yes. He's been following Elijah and trying to convince him to change his mind since this morning." Katherine complained. "He doesn't leave us alone, even for half a second."
"Do you two really think I'm able to "charm" him for the rest of the night?"
I asked, doubts about his supposed affection towards me. Since our first meeting, I and an original hybrid have had a kind of love-hate relationship. At the beginning, we only had short, verbal skirmishes, then it evolved into an open war (he tried to hurt Bonnie, so I gave him a headache and snapped his neck. After that, he used one of his hybrids to crack my car, so I convinced Rebekah to steal his car keys and give them to me. He gave up after two weeks of our teasing and after I (with little of Damon's help) ruined all his dark plans. The original hybrid bought me my own car, trying to bury the hatchet between us.) After a month of these events, the hatred between us began to develop into a kind of mean-companionship. At least no one had tried to gouge out the eyes of the other one anymore. Our "game" developed so much that one day he began to tease me with flirtatious phrases. And it's not true that I choked on my drink and blushed like a teenager from a romance book when he called me for the first time his "innermost, darkest pleasure," whispering it with his seductive tone, which he undoubtedly used for many women before. It was at our school party in the style of the 20s. Since then, I've figured out how to play by his new rules. I couldn't be worse than him.
"Well, you're doing your job even now. He's been staring at you for about five minutes, and you haven't even used any magic. I think we all know why, but you're too stubborn to admit it, so you might as well use his soft spot for you as reparation for your silence for 3 days."
"It's not a soft spot or any other stupid feeling you assume. This is a game."
That was our way of communicating: by circling around, lulling the other person's vigilance, and attacking when he least expects it. At the end of the day, I was just a toy for him—a mortal witch who was never scared of a 1000-year-old hybrid. He proved it after he moved with his family to New Orleans, and I never heard from him again.
"I like spicy stories, but please, keep my brother's kinks away from me. BOTH of you. It's just disgusting." Rebekah shuddered.
"I'm not…"
"Did I hear something about kinks? Y/N darling, it's a pleasure to finally see you here!" Kol suddenly appeared from nowhere. He got closer to me and gave me a strong hug.
"What the bloody hell? You should be on Hayley's tail!"
"Relax, sister. Our brother's formal one-night stand peacefully came back to her husband and wolves. Which means I'm free for the rest of the evening. Y/N do you want to dance with me?" without waiting for any response, he took my hand and led me to the dance floor, where other couples were dancing.
"Alright, what did you do?" I asked, eyeing him suspiciously.
"I have no idea what are you implying. I just wanted to dance with a friend I hadn't seen in a long time."
"Kol."
"Y/N."
"Okey, okey. Don't look at me like that. In a nutshell, there is a girl." Oh, I've heard about her. I was curious how much of the original's interest in this girl was genuine.
"My God. I never expected to live to see the day Kol Mikaelson finds his epic love." I cut him off with a smirk.
"She is a hag like you, by the way." he continued, ignoring my taunt. "She doesn't want to know me, but she loves me. I just need a little magic of jealousy, and voilà, I'll be kissing her at the end of this night."
"And you didn't think, Sherlock, that acting like this would make her think that you only play with her?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. The gears in Mikaelson's head began to turn.
"F*ck. So what should I do? I've tried everything. Flowers, jewelry, old grimoires, unexpected almost-dating, puppies, cats, and all of this modern stuff."
"The idea of coming to me with a "love problem" is as ridiculous as expecting an answer, but I will try my best because you are kind of my friend and seem desperate. I don't know if you thought of it, but speaking with her and making a true confession seemed too simple, didn't it?" I said it sarcastically.
"You mean… "L" word?" he cleared his throat, ashamed.
"For the love of God, Kol Mikaelson! Do you love her?"
"Of course."
"Then get out of my eyes and tell her, not me." he disappeared as quickly as he had appeared, leaving me alone in a sea of people.
"Little bastard." I said it to myself while trying to get out of there.
But someone made sure I wasn't left alone for too long.
"Hello, my love."
I would recognize that voice even on my deathbed, and I undoubtedly knew that he would someday be the reason for my death.
"Hello Klaus." I turned around to look him in the face. He had grown more handsome since the last time I saw him, which worried me a lot. I tried to hide my unwanted emotions behind a sarcastic smirk.
"If you're wondering if Stefan or Caroline sent their regards, I'm going to have to disappoint you."
"Actually, I'm wondering who I have to kill." I frowned, not understanding him. He swept me into his arms and whirled me about the dance floor as the orchestra played. "I knew you were planning not to go to this party. Katherine was very upset about that."
"So you must have had an enjoyable couple of days." I can't stop myself from interrupting him. He gave me a small smile, shaking his head in amusement. I was so close in his arms that I could feel his every breath adjust to mine.
"You don't usually change your plans, so it's obvious that your bunch of stupid friends must have done something impressively dumb. And quite possibly, it has to do with the emergence of competition vampire's group in Mystic Falls."
"You seem quite well informed, especially for someone who doesn't care about anyone but his family."
"Ouch. As mean as I remembered."
"And you're as irritating as always. It looks like no one changed."
I sighed as I looked around the room. Mission successful - Katherine talks to Elijah. The only problem was that they looked like they were gossiping about me and Klaus…
"Tell me, did you miss me?" Klaus' taunt diverted my attention.
I thought for a moment about how to answer his question. Of course, I missed him. I frequently found myself recalling memories of us in locations where I was at the time. But as I said to Rebekah and Katherine, there was no bond between me and Klaus. We were just two bored souls who were looking for entertainment. We liked messing with people and making fun of them. That's all. There is no feeling involved. But it doesn't mean I will miss my chance.
"Yes." I whispered this while staring into his ocean eyes, never taking my gaze away from him.
He was surprised by my bold, direct statement. He leaned slightly closer to me. His gaze was moving from my eyes to my lips.
"I was bored as no one was trying to hurt me or my friends. Fortunately, Miss Salvatore came back with her own, special family." I got a little closer to him so I could whisper in his ear. "And then we had a new member of our group. Enzo. He's incredibly handsome and was an excellent substitute for your company."
He moved his hand slowly as he extended his arm to encircle my back. Then he dipped me deeply, looking at my eyes all the damn time.
"Be careful, my love. You may fall for him, of course, if you have a heart." he whispered, tightening his grip on me. I held my breath, too enchanted by the moment to respond to his taunt.
I should feel uneasy, distrustful, and disgusted that I am at his mercy, for he could drop me at any moment. Instead, all I could feel was being hypnotized by his blue eyes until he helped me get back on my feet again.
"Every girl would love him. He has dark hair, plays the guitar, and speaks with an English accent. Everyone's type, espessialy mine." I said, when I came back to my senses. If he wanted to tease me, I'd make sure I was a worthy opponent. I just had to keep my emotions under lock and key.
"So your "type" has to have an English accent? It's good to know."
"Yeah, but not as old as some of the people who live here. Also, not this one who wants to get closer to me only to use me for my power."
"You really think that little of me?"
"Is it truly important what I think about you?"
"No, not if you want me to remain a stranger to you. Not at all. But I'd like to think that we are more than we're willing to admit."
"Are you drunk?" I asked, taking a step back to examine him more closely. He began laughing at my reaction, drawing me closer to him once again.
"No, my love. I'm honest. But I'm not sure if there's a big difference between these two."
"You're honest only if you know it's in your interest. Clearly, you want something for me because you've been nicer to me than you have in the last few years. But you have to know I'm not that stupid to let you control me." I got out of his arms and went out in search of a room free of anyone.
"Running away isn't a solution, Y/N! I hope you know that." He shouted as he followed me. We came to a halt as we entered his art studio. Of all the fucking places in this huge villa, it had to be the den of the big bad wolf.
"Katherine has managed to escape you for more than 500 years." I said this without giving him a single, damning look. I much preferred to admire his works.
"Yes. Because she wanted. I'm not sure if you share her desires." He grabbed my arm, turning me to face him.
"What kind of fucked-up game are you playing right now?!" I yelled, yanking his hands away from me. He confused me. We never crossed that unspoken line in our banter. Few months apart, and now he shares the attitude of our crazy friends. That kind of playing wasn't fun at all.
"Did I bring up a sensitive topic? You're not ready to finally stop lying to yourself?" I laughed, mocking him.
"I've never claimed to be a saint." I growled at his face.
"You also never admitted being a sinner."
"That's good I've always wanted to be an anti-hero, then." I whispered, looking into his mesmerizing eyes, not even realizing that as we talked, we were getting closer, as we were suddenly a foot apart. I felt his hand slip around my waist like a snake. He pulled me closer and then I found myself pressed between his warm chest and cold wall.
"If only you weren't such a paranoid woman and suspected me of using you whenever I wanted to get closer to you. Maybe you would understand who you should be scared of and what is truly between us."
"Said the man who murdered his biological father because he was afraid Ansal would endanger Hope."
"You seem quite well informed, especially for someone who doesn't care about me."
"Katherine and Rebekah are gossipers. You can't blame me for listening to them."
"You have an excuse for every circumstance, don't you?"
"It's not my fault you can't accept the truth. Whatever you've been taking today, you'd better take less of it. It's damaging your immortal, ancient head." I started to turn towards the door, but he stopped me by grabbing my hand.
"Don't turn your back on me, love." he threatened, keeping his firm grip on my wrist.
"Or what are you going to do? Dance with me again? You're right, it's so dangerous and horrible that I can't take it anymore." I ignored his warning and tried to leave the room.
He used his vampire speed and pinned me against the door. He leaned in, his eyes closed, and rested his brow against mine. In a silent, peaceful room, our hard, synchronized breaths were the only sound I could hear. My world shrank to just the two of us. The party outside was long forgotten by me.
He rubbed the tip of his nose on mine. I shivered as I got close enough to him for the first time to feel the warmth of his lips (and yet they were so far from mine).
"You have no idea… what you're doing to me."
His deep, hoarse whisper reminded me of who was standing in front of me and why I couldn't give in to my inner, treacherous desire. Before his lips could catch mine in his intoxicating trap (and possibly destroy me for any other men), I wrapped my hands around his neck and pinned him against the door, keeping a decent distance between us.
When he felt a piece of wood on his back, he opened his eyes, looked at me, and gave me an impressive glance. He giggled sinisterly, sending a shiver down my spine.
"For your own good, if you're not ready for a fire, don't play with it, love." I leaned slightly toward him, still catching his gaze with mine.
"Who said I wouldn't be the one to burn you?" I whispered against his neck, placing a burning kiss on it.
His soft, strangled moan after I gently bit into his skin was enough reward for my patience and a sign to stop before things got deeper.
I slowly took my hand from his arm and put it on the doorknob. I smiled on his neck because he was too preoccupied with the feeling of my lips to notice anything. I decided not to tempt fate anymore. Hybrid could easily take control from me (which wouldn't be good for me at all). So I pulled the handle and opened the door. The original nearly fell down because of my sudden, unexpected move.
I left Klaus behind in my haste, casting a quick glance behind me. It was definitely worth it. His look of indignation will stay in my mind for a long time. This battle was mine. We gonna see what future bring.
I walked into the room in a magnificent mood and took the glass of wine from one of the waiters.
"Can everyone get together, please?" Elijah caught everyone's attention. "Thank you. I wanted to thank everyone for coming to our engagement party. Me and my beloved fiance are very happy to see people around us who are wishing us a long, beautiful future." the crowd began to applaud, interrupting his speech for a moment.
"Such a diva." I whispered under my breath as I sipped my wine. Rebekah somehow heard this and tried to hide her laughter.
"But I didn't gather you all here just to talk about my luck. We wanted to announce who, from our closest friends, will be the second-most important couple at our wedding. My best man and Katerina's maid of honor, I don't think it will surprise you that my best man will be my brother Niklaus."
Klaus stood on the stairs next to the couple, wearing his trademark sly grin. He scanned the crowd. His gaze lingered directly on me, and he didn't want to take his eyes off me. The little bastard must have been up to something.
"I've been thinking about this since the day we got engaged, and to be honest, the decision wasn't as easy as it seemed to be. It was my desire to have this person as my maid of honor, but circumstances indicated that, unfortunately, my dream would not come true. You don't know how happy I was when I heard a few hours ago that she agreed. So without further extensions. My chief bridesmaid and best friend, Y/N Y/L!"
Applause erupted around me. It took me a second to recover from the shock and climb the stairs. I was standing right in front of this smug son of a bitch.
"Thanks for asking." I said to Katherine when Elijah ended his speech and people spread around.
"Klaus didn't tell you?" she asked, looking at her future brother-in-law.
The original just shrugged.
"Don't worry, Kath. I won't make a scene. I'm not going to play according to the script of this drama queen. It will be a pleasure to be your maid of honor."
"I'm not a drama queen." the hybrid interjected, frowning.
"Whatever helps you sleep at night." I responded, giving him a small look.
"If you're so worried about my good sleep, why don't you join me in my bed, love?" he asked, coming to my side, so I had to give him my attention.
"Ha ha. Not even in your wildest dreams."
"In my wildest dreams, we don't need a bed, love." he said, casually adjusting the strap of my dress on my shoulder. His icy fingertips brushed against my heated skin, right next to my collarbone.
"You're the thousand-year-old father of a little girl. You don't think it's time to act like an adult and not a horny teenager?" I asked, grabbing his hand and pulling it off me.
"Ouch. But then you wouldn't even notice me." he pretended to be offended. He also tightened his grip on my hand without thinking of letting go. I fell into his trap with my own fucking wish.
"Believe me, it's impossible to miss you. I've tried. Many times." I growled, trying to free my hand from him.
"Aw, is that your way of telling me I'm special to you?" he asked, clearly amused by my annoyance. I've never seen such a huge smile on his face.
"Yeah, like a plastic, red punch cup at a school party," he laughed, reluctantly releasing my hand.
I turned to say something to Kath, but then I realized that she had left us in the middle of our conversation. I sighed as I was alone with him again. It's going to be a very long week (or month).
"By the way, when are you going to tell me I'm Katherine's maid of honor?" I asked, favoring him with my look again.
"It must have slipped my mind when you were passionately kissing my neck, love."
"Oh, I remember. You were moaning for me like a street lady."
I turned to leave, but he suddenly wrapped his arms around me and pulled me against his hard, well-built chest. He placed my head on his shoulder and cupped the tip of my right ear with his lips. His fangs came out, reminding me of his superhuman strength. Sometimes I forgot that the man I was teasing could easily break me with a flick of the wrist. Of course, if I let down my guard and drop my magic for a moment. We both knew that was impossible.
"Maybe I should return you a favor, and then we will see which one of us is making the most tempting moans?" he whispered suggestively and placed a small kiss under my ear. "What do you think about it, love?" he asked, rubbing his nose against my neck. He took one deep breath before placing his revange-wet kiss there.
And then, when I was burning for even his littlest touch, he just walked away like nothing happened.
I stood there, frozen in shock, watching his receding silhouette (definitely with a proud smirk on his face).
There was only one thing in my head.
1:1 motherf*cker
#klaus mikaelson x reader#klaus mikaelson x y/n#klaus mikaelson#klaus x reader#klaus mikaleson imagine#klaus oneshot#katerina petrova#katherine pierce#tvd fanfiction#tvdu imagines#tvd#klaus x y/n#rebekah mikaelson#kol mikaelson#elijah mikaelson#freya mikaelson#davina claire#the originals#new orleans#vampire#kalijah#Spotify#kasagia
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what are your favorite byler headcanons?
—I never get asked this question, so thanks for being the first lmao. (I did write my “S5 hopes” before, but these are different I think?) Anyway. Hmmm.
While they both love Tolkien, Mike likes the Lord of the Rings trilogy books more, but Will enjoys the Hobbit best. Mike loves the depth of the lore and complexity of how Tolkien describes things in the original trilogy because they help him when he’s coming up with campaigns, but Will enjoys the straightforward (and a little sweeter) narrative of The Hobbit more—and also has a preference for it because the version he had as a kid was more image-heavy, and he’s an artist. :)
Speaking of Tolkien—Mike absolutely has a one-ring he keeps around his neck like Frodo. (It may even be what he chooses as an engagement ring way, way down the line, but Will is so outdone he decides to just buy it to wear it around his neck instead lol).
When it comes to getting work done, Mike is a think-out-loud type—as in, will talk to himself out loud and not even realize he’s doing it when alone, or with someone he’s comfortable getting into his head around. Will doesn’t say anything about it, because he thinks it’s hilarious—but Mike eventually learns about his own tendency when Will knows about a surprise he had planned before he can even do it…because he was thinking out loud. (He gets up in arms about how Will should have told him, but the more time passes, the funnier the tendency becomes to them).
Mike was hype as hell for the release of Jurassic Park in 1993. Will was also hype, but. Not nearly as excited about it as Mike was. When the Peter Jackson’s LOTR adaptation was announced, they were both over the moon (though Will was a bit scared. He is very picky about his movies, and adaptations even more so).
The two of them would settle in San Francisco, and would definitely be the ones who run a “teach DnD / campaign night” in conjunction with a comic book store in their neighborhood, in an attempt to keep the younger generations’ love for it alive—the same way as the bookstore owner who introduced them to the book. this is maybe based on an actual comicbook store with a dnd night in the SF Castro that I found a few years ago. The world may never know. They are thrilled in 2016 when a new Netflix show (😉) and Critical Role revives people’s love for it when they’re much, much older.
The first time the topic of “going to pride” comes up in the mid-90’s (long before it was the socially accepted event it is today), Will is mildly terrified—and so is Mike, but his “brave paladin” side absolutely talks himself up enough to get Will to join him solely out of a need to prove he can. They end up having a great time, and Mike, who has never really delved into queer history, ends up on a whole tangent of learning about it for an entire month afterward. Will finds it v endearing.
Mike sucks at poker because he cannot keep a single thing off his face. He is, however, really good at playing “the house” in card games, so that’s the role he takes on (comes from years of leading campaigns. He’s a bit of a showman that way).
Will cannot stand cold even after he’s disconnected from Vecna/the UD, and misses California—which is why they move back. When “global warming” talk starts becoming more common, his favorite dad joke to make is “if I think it’s getting hot, it must be,” but no one but the party & family know why it’s funny.
Earlier into their relationship, Will becomes a bit troubled by the fact that Mike is the only person he ever dated. It causes tension in their relationship for a little while, though Will eventually realizes he doesn't want to be with anyone else, so it doesn't matter. (Much later, Mike admits that he thought Will’s concerns were unfounded, considering the only person he ever dated outside of Will happened when he was 13 & probably shouldn’t have even been his girlfriend in the first place, given the fact that she was 3 seconds out of a lab…& he doesn’t even like women anyway).
Mike knows Will is healing more from “the events of the show” when Will starts making dark-humor jokes about being possessed and/or being lost in the upside down—though it takes him a lot to get used to it, given how scared he spent years being about losing Will. Eventually he gets on board and laughs—which Will appreciates, because it helps him to see Mike get less uncomfortable and feel safer about keeping Will safe after all that happened.
There are ten I could think of off top?? LMAO someone ask @magentamee what my other headcanons are I’m sure she’s heard them all by now 😂
Thanks so much for this ask!
#this was fun! thank you! genuinely haha#like. I do in fact have headcanons as an ‘analyst’ type? sometimes I forget haha#demonerds#byler#mike wheeler core#will byers core#the me tag#asks#st headcanons
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꒰groovy !꒱
the phantom thieves inviting you to club velvet as their date !
character x gn!reader
includes joker , ryuji , ann + akechi !
warnings : spoilers for persona 5 and dancing in starlight !
a/n : started this months ago when i platinumed p5d lmaoo whoops , got stuck on some of the other phantom thieves so ill be making a part 2 !! hope you enjoy ^^
JOKER // REN AMAMIYA
this smooth motherfucker. he told everyone ahead of time to practice in their rooms while he was spending time with you, as to not ruin the moment.
he knocks on your door, inviting you out for a nice evening. (even though time hasnt been moving since you had all woken up here.) a small gift box in his right hand and a bouquet of flowers in the left. he really went all out and showed up every other phantom thief on this list. he doesnt have rank 5 charm for nothing!
you open the door, pleasantly surprised on how your boyfriend always manages to come up with spectacular date ideas in such little time. "would you care to dance, malady?" he says, trying his best to come across as charismatic as possible. the way you laugh at his request sweetly is enough to make his cheeks turn pink, but he refuses to drop the act now. "why yes actually, i would quite like that." you respond, taking the gift box and opening it.
inside is a calling card, addressed to you. ren cant help but laugh at your reaction. he makes a joke along the lines of how hes "stealing your heart", and how it sounded a lot funnier in his head. you roll your eyes lovingly, before grabbing his hand and making your way to club velvet.
"ive got a few ideas for new dance choreographies, would you mind accompanying me?" you nod, attempting to follow his lead as best as you can. when you inevitably trip over your own feet, hes right there to catch you in his arms before you hit the ground. he takes this as the perfect opportunity to lean down and place a soft kiss on your lips. knowing the phantom thief leader, its most likely you falling was all just part of the plan, you cant help but admire how much thought he truly puts into ever minute he spends with you.
SKULL // RYUJI SAKAMOTO
when it comes to ryuji, youre 99% sure he only invites you to show off. morgana has been on his ass since the very begining and of course he loves you, but he loves proving that talking cat wrong just a little bit more.
however, ryuji wants this to be memorable, no matter what the twins say. so what if youll forget everything when you wake up? his stubborn self would still try to make you remember, and he promises that. (like he'll even be able to remember anything himself,,,)
barging through the front door of your room, he ignores the slightly annoyed questions coming from your lips. "ahh come on, its just me! hey, get this, ive got a surprise for you! dont give me that look- lets go, its in club velvet!"
walking through the front entrance has you certainly surprised. your favorite song blaring through the speakers and the flashing lights presenting your favorite colors. its certainly impressive, especially for someone like ryuji, where most dates in the past have consisted of playing video games and watching tv.
when you turn around to greet your boyfriend, the smug smirk on his face is almost enough to shift your whole perspective and slap him across the face. almost. instead, you pull him into a tight hug, swaying gently to the tune of the music playing in the club. you can feel morganas annoyed eyes on you, maybe ryuji wasnt as totally clueless as he thought.
PANTHER // ANN TAKAMAKI
anns a little surprised at her own genius plan to have you try on the new outfits shes designed for your next performance together. it was the perfect excuse to get to spend some time alone together. she wants you two to be the best dressed couple club velvet has ever seen.
you notice the way her hands tend to linger on different spots of your body while shes simply just "adjusting the outfit". by the time shes finally decided on something your face is flushed a bright red. "hey now, dont try and pretend like youve caught a cold to get out of this! were going to blow everyone away tonight!" she exclaims, stars in her eyes as she lays out the brightly colored garments.
the cheers from the audience seem to prove anns theory right, they love the chemistry between you! when you finish shes already planning out costumes for your next dance routine, determined to make it even better.
she treats you to a large sum of strawberry crepes as a reward for how well the performance went as she shows off her concept sketches. she loves the way you listen to her with such an attentive look on your face, it reassures her shes not boring you with her rambling.
youre barely able to catch a break before she drags you backstage for another costume change. she promises youll get free time to spend together at the club afterwards, right now its showtime!
CROW // GORO AKECHI
akechi literally just wouldnt even invite you, because he wasnt really invited himself. hes not entirely sure how he ended up here, and everyone around is less than willing to explain the confusing situation theyve found themselves in.
very uncharacteristically, he tends to cling to your side the whole time. to save his own ego, hell claim its because you cant trust the others after what happened back in november, but it doesnt take a rocket scientist to realize he feels like he doesnt belong here.
if you want to dance, he wont refuse your request, but its painfully obvious hes nervous about putting himself out there again. everyone already knows his true identity, so why bother pretending like everything is okay? even if its just for one night in paradise is it really alright for him to indulge in himself? youll have to reassure him a lot, even if he dismisses your concern you dont miss the small smile on his face whenever you attempt to comfort him.
once hes not so nervous, the charming detective prince persona is right back on again. he manages to wow the audience, no surprise there. after youre done performing hell smile and wink, stating "that was spectacular, shall we go again?"
hes rough around the edges and a bit hot headed, but if youve managed to stay on his good side for this long (let alone be in a relationship) you know that akechi only has your best interests at heart. even if it means embarrassing himself infront of his rival.
not sure how tumblr formats its works so i hope this looks ok lmaoo fingers crossed !
#✧;;↬ my work.❞┊🍓#persona 5#persona 5 x reader#persona 5 royal#shin megami tensai persona#persona 5 x you#joker x reader#Ren Amamiya x Reader#ann takamaki x reader#ryuji sakamoto x reader#goro akechi x reader
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HIIII :) here to ask about the abyss tell me about it please please please love this sort of thing :3
HAIIII welcome :) to preface this im normal i swear. anyway The Abyss is what i like ta call my Horrible Horrible Maze, i made it w/ the goal of making the worst possible experience in minecraft to torment my friends ^_^
I enjoy putting people in situations and studying them :D
On that note! everyone who runs the abyss (24 people at current count) I time and write a couple notes on them! the abyss is honestly half maze half personality test LMAO. at current moment the quickest time goes to @ghostpajamas with a baffling 03:24 (wild that he got out so quick, i win tho cause i haunt his dreams), and longest goes to the beloved @rendogdomesticated with 1:35:54 <3 special shout out ta my dearest @theoctagon tho wolff ur insane i love u. guy goes inta the abyss for fun and has like 10 pages and counting of insane person phsyical notes tryna map it out (hes reported that hes gone through the first one 60 times and the 2nd one 5 jesus chriiiistttt). the abyss is fond of Pilot :) also if wolff is the favourite than @potionofinstantdamage is the Least favourite, rude ass set the place on fire when he got stuck in there :( oof ouchie
Highlights from my notes include @quack-city running backwards and upon me asking Why, simply replied “what if there’s slenderman :(‘ ... cant argue w/ that! he also hadda stop mid run so we decided its funnier if he’s just stuck in there forever. @newtbeetle was in there for like an hour and would NOT shut up about Paul Dano the whole time which was a time (love u beebs. ur isnane). my two test runners are @kishdoodles and @officialgleamstar and they had about the same time but like Opposite reactions it was very funny, kish treated it like they were a streamer n kept a like constant chatter, and travvy was like DEAD silent the whole time n Intensely focused akjewkjr tbh outta all 24 runners trav’s been prob the most like, methotical bout it? LIKE I SAID personality test. i Love studying people.
In regards to its origins I came up w/ the idea back in like feb/march ish of this year and from start to finish it took me like 2 weeks ish i was on the Grind. u dont understnad how much black concrete this thing took. hell on earth,,, darkwoods has an economy/shopping district and i bought out like All the sand/gravel available akjwekjr the rest i hadda gather myself n God gravel sucks. also ive killed So Many Squids. the 2nd abyss was much easier ta gather supplies for cause i could ask for help w/ supplies n i kept the first one a Complete secret minus my test runners (i hadda bitch at SOMEONE while makin it or i wouldve died i think. speakin of the first abyss has a death count of 13 and the 2nd one has like, 5 or somefin? rlly shouldve writen that down akjwerjk those are Entirely me dying in the process of buildin them btw. its not a true Spain Build unless its mildly dangerous <3) The 2nd one also made me learn redstone, notably i specifically studied Tango’s decked out process vids from s7, tho i really only stole like two aspects of it n i couldnt even get one ta work properly LMAO
The second abyss took me like, wayy longer ta make, bout two months ish (i finished it like mid july). not necessarily in actual like, time spent building but cause in the process of makin it i had Two month long events i was in (Voiceteam in may and Art fight in july) so that distracted me a bit wkwnekeneie Im a bit more secretive bout the second abyss in general since not That many people have actually ran it compared ta the first n theres actually like, Things that can be spoiled in there <3 i like seein peep’s initial reactions its much more satisfying.
This didnt happen w/ everyone but i think a like, Core part of running the abyss is getting emotionally attached ta weird things. i wouldve said just torches until a few days ago when Tac (onea the rat server mods) ran it and claimed the stack of pumpkin pies i gave her as family. But Prior Ta That several people have had very intense emotions bout the redstone torches, whether love or hate or both, key example ft dog:
Also not everyone ive mentioned on this post is in darkwoods! ive got a server i world editted the abyss inta so non-server members can run it for fun and profit (more data for me) :) on that note ive been slowly infecting the rat gang server cause my friend’s in there alot n another friend of mine’s a mod so peeps in there’ve been runnin it lately :) shout out ta TalonMC for lettin me subject him ta the Horrors literally our first conversation, onea my more fun first impressions i’d say
In regards to lore the abyss is a parasitic entity that infects anyone who gets stuck in there n slowly compells them ta go build their own lmao. note that ive only called the second abyss the Second one and not Abyss 2, because its technically just The Abyss as well cause theres many of them i just made it second wowjdkenejd (a real example of this is Wolff gettin obsessed w/ the abyss n then goin n buildin his own build called the Tower :) very excited bout that) The Abyss has a weird like fucked up warlock bond w/ my goddess oc The Overseer :D Her design’s vaugely based off my irl friend @hotcollectionoftubs cause her creation The Hole on a creative world her n some other friends of mine are on was onea the main insperations for certain aspects of the abyss’ lore :D mainly the teal in the colour palette and the whole ‘the [hole/abyss] provides’ thing.
(my reference images for her and 3rd pic's art i commissioned from the Lovely @opuntie):
my darkwoods chara, Snake, is a whole nother bag entirely (basic gist is they’re a dimension traveler not by choice and darkwoods is the 3rd world theyve been in, their deal’s worth a whole post of its own lmao) i built the first abyss entirely unrelated ta my chara just as like, fun weird build ta torment my friends w/o yaknow? but then as i was buildin the 2nd one i was like hmmmmmm. alotta things could make sense if i made this one built by Snake. so their retirement arc on darkwoods turned inta even MORE trauma! wahoo! poor guy deserves a break,,, (he will not be getting one).
(pre abyss + post abyss. i gotta properly draw pre-darkwoods Snake at some point but this dudes changed Alot ill say that lmao. both crops from bigger pieces on my art blog @fluxydrawings)
Anyway thats basically it! ive got more details and things locked in my brain ill probably remember in like 2 days after postin this so theres a chance ill reblog this w/ extra shit later lmao, sides that tho the abyss is my babygirl n thank yall for showin interest ^_^
Memes n shit to end us off:
#Inbox#darkwoods smp#the abyss#t3rm1nus#anonymous#not puttin this under a read more. look upon my creation boy.#ive been writing this post for like. 2 days kjawekjrkwekj its like 1.1k words or some shit#i have So many thoughts bout the abyss at all times#also too lazy ta add ta the post more but im workin on a Secret Third Thing called The Coil that isnt an abyss but it IS the like. spiritua#l successor#the goddess of the coil is the Overseer's ex wife <3 for fun <3#i should rlly like. add up the average time for the abyss cause theres a Lotta variety#shout outs ta my bestie Kelly for gettin the 2nd quickest time and fellow darkwoods member Fuzzy for gettin the 2nd longest time akjwekjrkj#spain speaks
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✧･ﾟ:*If Only You Felt The Same *:･ﾟ✧
main masterlist
pairing: tasm!peter parker x reader - i imagine this taking place later on when you are both in college / out of school, but it’s really up to your imagination:)
warnings: mention of injuries, slight angst if you squint
summary: For the past few months, Peter’s been visiting your apartment for some late night help with his injuries. After all this time, how can you not notice how completely head-over- heels in love with you he is?
word count: 2,724
A/N: hi lovely! thank you so much for checking out my work, it means so much to me <3 just real quick, this is actually a repost from my first few days on dumblr when my tags didn’t work, janky editing, etc etc🙄 so sorry if you've seen this twice ;) plus i spruced this one up a bit with a cute banner and graphics and GAH i love how it looks… ANYWAY, this is basically two idiots in love with mutual pining… i hope you enjoy:) feel free to send an ask or leave a comment if you want to be added to my taglist!!
also available here :)
“Shit.” Peter tumbles down onto the metal balcony, gripping onto the handrail. The last thing he needs is to plummet 15 stories to the damp concrete - that would just really make his night complete. He gently wipes the condensation off the window in front of him to peek inside, making sure he was at the right apartment. Still in his mask, his eyes struggle to focus on any shapes within the dark room. He’s feeling rather woozy and tired. His eyes begin to lull closed and his breaths start becoming ragged - wait, why was he feeling so woozy? Shouldn’t he have an adrenaline rush after barely walking away from eight thugs not twenty minutes ago? Peter looks down at his left side.
Ah, that explains it, he thinks to himself. Blood is gently seeping through his suit, most likely from a knife wound gifted to him by one of his assailants - how nice of him. Peter looks through the window one last time to make sure he’s got the right place.
I guess this is it. He grabs the edge of the window and tugs with as much strength he can muster. It doesn’t budge. He tries again… with no success. At this point, Peter’s eyes begin closing of their own volition and he doesn’t have many options. He looks down to the metal flooring of the balcony.
Looks comfy enough…it’s fine, I’ll just sit down for a minute and wait until she finds me out here, he thinks, obviously not thinking rationally.
As he drifts off, he thinks of all the times you’ve tended to his cuts and bruises late into the night and into the early morning. He thinks of your hands, meticulous and gentle. He imagines the soft touch you give him when you inspect his cuts, or the way you place a bandage on his skin, gently rubbing over it with the pads of your fingers. He imagines your careful gaze and the concern in your eyes after he knocks on your apartment window. He pictures the concentration on your face when you are focused on stitching a particularly gnarly cut. He thinks about the first time he saw you and when he told you the secret he thought he would never utter aloud: “I’m - uh - well, I’m actually Spider man, so…”
He’s always loved your reaction to his confession - “Yeah, Pete. You didn’t actually think I believed you were washing the American flag with your darks and lights.”
He loved that you accepted him blindly. After revealing his secret identity, it was an unspoken agreement that if he ever needed help, you would patch him up and put him back together. It became a sort of ritual between the two of you - Peter would go out for the night, hunting down criminals and keeping civilians safe, then he would swing to your apartment. There, you would patch him up or just chat - some days were better than others. Peter loves to tell you about some of his funnier incarcerations and you would tell him all about your day. It was one of the few times you really got to spend time with one another. Eventually, you were even given the “extreme privilege” - as Peter liked to call it - to house a spare suit and back-up web shooters in your apartment closet, just in case duty called.
His mind swims and he is thrusted back into his current predicament. Thunder claps above him as small droplets pitter and patter onto his thoroughly soaked suit.
It’s rather refreshing, he thinks, to sit in the rain as you bleed out on the floor of a metal balcony. But Peter knows you will find him eventually. He knows you love to get up every night at 1 a.m. to grab yourself your “Midnight OJ” as you liked to call it.
He loves your weird quirks. He loves when you tell him all the small, insignificant details of your life. He loves discovering all the little pieces of your complex puzzle and fitting them together. He loves you. He thinks about you when he wakes up every morning and right before he goes to sleep every night. Every time he does anything, he wonders what you were doing at that very second. Everything reminds him of you - when he walks to class, he imagines you by his side, holding his hand. When he gets his coffee, he thinks about the sound of your voice as you order your “Venti chai latte, please” with a kind smile. When he reads a book, he wonders if you would enjoy a particular line; he imagines your soft breaths in his head as you read along with him. He loves you so much, it actually baffles him that you haven’t seemed to notice how totally taken he is with you.
In all your time together, you two had only remained “best friends.” Of course, Peter’s thought about it - asking you properly, asking if you loved him as well and if you wanted to be with him as more than friends; countless times he’s envisioned himself saying the words, how the conversation would go, whether you would say yes or no. But, it always sounds so cheesy in his head and every time he musters up the courage, the words evaporate on his lips. He tells himself that your friendship is far too valuable to put it in jeopardy by adding romance in the mix. But, he notices you, too. The lingering stares you give him, the playful teasing, the prolonged touches. He hopes he’s not imagining things.
He wishes he didn’t have to worry you so much. He longs to just be the normal “Peter Parker” that didn’t have to put on the mask. He wishes he didn’t have to look into the eyes of the men he is forced to fight, to beat down. His muscles tense as he pictures the eight men he had to fight tonight. He wishes he didn’t have to bloody his knuckles and mar his skin with scattered bruises and scars. He wishes he didn’t have to be on high alert all the time; his senses picking out every indiscernible crime and danger within his city. Even now, he can sense risks from miles away - tires screeching… dogs barking… police sirens… a scream ten blocks out…
“Peter,” you whisper, reaching out to jostle him.
He snaps awake with a start, sending a web zipping inches away from your face.
“Shit!”
He throws his hands up, as if to stop you from running off. “Oh jesus, I’m sorry,” he reaches up and tugs off his mask, running a hand through his now tousled locks. “Shit, I… sorry, I guess I’m still in fight mode. The adrenaline and… all that,” he mumbles feebly, more to himself than anyone else.
“Well,” you start, “you look like shit.” He looks up and you give him a soft smile, which he returns.
“You always know just what I want to hear.”
“It’s a gift.”
For a moment you both just look at each other, a look of understanding on both of your faces. Relief floods Peter’s body; after a long night, he’s always happy to see you, still in your pajamas, cup of orange juice in hand. You just gaze back at him, deep in thought.
What could she be thinking?
“Well,” you snap out of your trance, “haul yourself in here.” You take a step back and Peter pushes himself off the cold metal balcony to grip onto your window sill. You see him stumbling, so you reach out your hand to stabilize him and help him swing his leg into your room. Peter never asks for your help, but he always accepts your wordless gestures all the same. You begin to guide him towards your bed, eyeing up his body for any particularly nasty wounds.
“Wait, wait,” Peter stops when he sees you heading towards your bed, “Don’t wanna get blood on your sheets.”
You silently nod, knowing you could never convince him otherwise, and direct him to the chair you have pushed under your desk. You pull out the seat and Peter plops down into it. He watches your methodical hands as you reach to turn on your desk lamp and grab the first aid kit you keep handy under your bed frame. He watches your hair wisp around your face as you kneel down in front of him and gather some of the basic supplies.
“Take off your suit,” you say, still studying the contents of your first aid kit.
“You know, I’m not really in the mood tonight,” Peter teases. You give him a sarcastic look as you unwrap the gauze. He starts to lightly chuckle, but he quickly grimaces and clutches his left side. Peter always tries to play off his injuries as not to worry you. He teases and jokes in order to keep you at ease; he never likes to see those brows knitting together from the worry on your face. Whenever he sees that concerned face he always has to fight the urge to reach out and smooth the crinkled lines between your brows. He likes your face without worry; he likes when you smile
.
“Off,” you repeat, pointing to his suit as you look around for your cup of orange juice. Peter begins to peel off his suit down to the waist, and, for the first time, he can see the extent of his injuries - a few small slashes on his biceps, some bruising beginning to form on this chest and forearms, and a significant laceration on his left side.
Could be better, could be worse, he thought. Still hurts like a bitch, though.
Quickly, you get to work on the large cut on his side, first.
“You’ll need a stitch or two,” you warn him, looking up into his eyes.
“I’m ready, doc,” he says, winking down at you. You smirk and look back to the wound on his side. You grab some alcohol, gauze, bandages, and tape and start to work. Peter loves to watch you as you work; it distracts him from the pain. He loves seeing your eyes squint and focus on the task at hand, and, if you’re really focused, your tongue will poke out, typically when you have to do some stitches.
Peter’s mind swims again and he starts to think of all the emotions he’s seen on your face. He thinks of all the times he’s had to scare you half to death by this bloodied body at your window; the stress and worry he forces onto you when he’s out all night.
He thinks of what a normal relationship with you would look like - spending the night together, having dinner and watching a movie, hearing your soft breaths as you fall asleep, watching your chest rise and fall as he holds you tight to his side. He wishes he didn’t have so much responsibility, so much pressure constantly on his shoulders. He loves keeping his city safe and protecting those in need, but he’s tired. Going out every night has become less and less fulfilling than when he first went out all those years ago.
Again, his senses begin to go into overdrive, picking up a fight happening twenty minutes away.
I could make it if I left now. The rain may slow me down, but if I just take a few back streets and went as fast as I could…
“You have nice arms,” you mumble absentmindedly, cutting through his train of thought. You stifle a small yawn. “They’re very toned. Not too big, but, who likes a show off?” You look up to him again, pausing from your mending to take a sip of your juice. Peter chuckles to himself; you always know when he’s getting too far into his own head.
“It’s all the push ups I do,” he jokes dryly. With a smirk, you roll your eyes and look down to his knuckles. You grab a warm washcloth and begin to wipe off the blood that had dried on his hands. He’s always aware when you’re trying to distract him and lighten the mood. He loves that you are always looking out for him and worrying about him, even subconsciously. But, sometimes he wishes you didn’t care so much. He wishes he never had to worry you. He loves your doting, but he’ll always feel guilty for it.
You grab some antiseptic and spray it on his knuckles, pulling a hiss from Peter’s lips. He tilts his head up in slight pain - the hands are always the worst part for him. You briefly glance up and notice his wrinkled brows and parted lips.
“Listen, I know you’re in pain and everything… but that was seriously hot.”
“I hate you.” Peter smiles down at you. Yet again, you always know exactly what to say to make him feel infinitely better. Peter constantly wonders if you can read his mind; how else could you always know what he’s feeling.
“Ok… my work here is done,” you say softly, as you rub along the edge of his bandages with the tips of your fingers. You look up at him and you two sit in the silence for a while, both of you searching each other’s eyes. You’re looking so intently at him, obviously teetering on the edge of saying some of your thoughts out loud. Peter just looks at you softly, loving the color of your eyes. He never really thought anything of people’s eyes, at least not own, but something about yours sucked him in and enveloped him with warmth.
You look back down at your hands suddenly, deciding to keep your thoughts to yourself. He knows he looks too wrecked to swing home, but he doesn’t want to intrude on you to stay the night.
“You should stay here tonight,” you say in his direction as you start packing up your kit, standing up, and walking over to your bed to place your supplies back to their rightful home. Peter no longer has the strength to argue, so he just drowsily nods his head and begins to stand. You lead him over to your bed and he lays down on the cool, white sheets. You climb in behind him and pull the covers up over the both of you. The sickly sweet scent of your perfume envelops him with the cool comfort of your blankets. You wrap your arms around his middle and rest your forehead on the back of his neck. Gradually, the emotions of the last few months set into Peter’s mind. For so long he’s kept his feelings at an arm’s length - pushing down his emotions - in order to keep himself going, but, being here with you - so safe and comfortable and himself - makes the dam finally break. Large, hot tears fall down Peter’s face as he crumbles in your embrace. You may be the only person in the world he can fully let his guard down with. You just hold him close, reminding him with your touch that you are there for him.
He just loves you - like crazy. If only you felt the same way.
You guide him to bed and crawl in behind him, holding him tight. Slowly you start to feel his body shake slightly and you can hear his faint sniffles. You don’t say anything, knowing that asking would only reopen the wounds you’ve been spending all these nights trying to heal. You may never fully understand what he is going through. Truthfully, you could never understand, so the least you can do is be here for him and give him a place to let down his walls. You hate the amount of pressure he puts on his shoulders. Even if you can only relieve a minuscule amount of his pain, you will do whatever it takes to make him happy. He deserves to be happy.
“It’s alright. I’ve got you,” you whisper into his skin. You clutch him tighter, never knowing if this could be the last time you see him climb through your window.
You just love him - like crazy. If only he felt the same.
#tasm!peter parker x reader#peter parker x reader#peter parker#tasm!peter parker#the amazing spiderman!peter#andrew!peter parker#tasm!peter imagine#fluff and feels#spiderman#tasm!spiderman x reader#tasm andrew garfield#peter parker fic#angst#tasm!peter x reader#fluff#tasm!peter
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And the tendency for tenants is secrecy.
Word Count: 1.8k
Cw: death mentions, swearing, paranoia, implications that an unseen person is really not having a good time™️
Noise wasn’t exactly tolerated where I lived.
The crashing of pots made me jump first. A mistake washing dishes knocked just about the entirety of my kitchenware onto the ground… Luckily nothing had been damaged. Then it was the angry fist at my door. Mr. Davidson lived on the same floor as me. He was also the landlord. I rushed to accommodate him.
His reaction was so angry it itched in my skin.
“Oh, I’m so sorry! It won’t happen again…”
“You’re right it won’t!”
I grimaced apologetically, like a dog presenting its belly in an act of submission. A taught behaviour. Quickly, I explained, made promises, and got off on a warning.
This demand of silence bordered on unreasonable.
Of course, that was fine. I could be calm and quiet. The noise rule definitely had its upsides: no rowdy parties (the flats were too small anyway), no thumping music, no loud children shrieking and banging on the walls. It was more than perfect for me. Late at night I’d sit at my desk, restless, listening to car horns blaring outside. Mr. Davidson wasn’t too bad. You got used to it.
My other neighbours were far less unpleasant.
One I ended up liking in particular was as elderly lady named Ms. Adler. She’d hobble up and down stairs unsuited to arthritic knees, clutching her velvety handbag, her feet wrapped in those soft little slippers with pastel petals embroidered over the toes. Always kind and cheerful, offering you a little sweet or a mint and patting your hand in fond chuckling laughter. As if you were her own long lost grandchild.
She lived alone. No one visited her but me.
Ms. Adler came to greet me a few times too. Once when I’d just moved in, and I didn’t know anyone.
It was my first time living alone - in the big city, and my new apartment was a mess of cardboard. When she saw Peaches around my heels, she’d coo and pucker her lips. “Oh, little sweetheart…” Bent down painfully. She actually managed to elicit a curious sniff.
There was a young man who lived here too. He kept to himself. Well… ‘Reclusive’ actually might’ve been an understatement. I barely saw him. A person like that could be easily overlooked or forgotten, scrubbed over with happier, funnier memories. If only he wasn’t so strange - if only our encounters weren’t so awkward.
Months ago: It was still very dark outside, I was leaving early for my appointment, going downstairs. He was going up. Going home? Ah, that was a problem.
Obstructions were pretty common. The stairway was tiny, one-way, ideal for traffic jams, and the lifts were out of order for as long as I’d known them. Lawrence - I only learnt his name later - wore a sweatshirt and had his yellowish hair tied back. The fluorescent bulbs shone his face a sickly cadaverous hue. He gave me a deer-in-the-headlights stare I probably mimicked. No one could have appeared more harmless. I stopped and made an embarrassing noise in my throat.
“Nice plant.” I must’ve been chipper that day. He was gently cradling one I wouldn’t know the name of. The leaves were glossy and vibrant, stained red, like someone had emptied their veins all over it. I imagined they were healthy. “Uh… I’ll get out of your way.”
“…Thanks.” He looked away, grinning. Baring his teeth in a cagey wince. I could even tell he was anxious. A bit of shuffling. I hopped back up the narrow steps.
“Have a good morning.” Not much else for me to say.
“Uh… You too.” And well, that should’ve been that.
But Lawrence didn’t enter his apartment. He stood with one hand clamped around the handle. I realised he must’ve been waiting for me to leave first. So I did.
This was the first time I discovered it was possible to feel someone’s eyes fixated on you. The back of my neck was unguarded, (no scarf, like an idiot) and for an odd moment I feared my throat would be ripped out. Instinctual residue from a distant, herbivore past.
But was I unnerved or simply nervous?
I was on the bottom floor. I lingered. From above me, the metallic symphony of too many locks. Echoing.
My routine was mundane. I was an insect pinned in a glass box. Life here was small and compact that way. And when something was amiss, you noticed it.
Of course you did.
Shampoo, hairties, pens. I didn’t know how I lost things when there was scarcely anywhere for them to hide. I inspected my fridge. Did I still have milk at least?
No. It was all gone. I sucked an involuntary breath in. This reminded me of other things I could’ve forgotten, which in hindsight was a good thing. Because just then I remembered too late the last of the dry stuff I fed Peaches tinkled into her bowl - fuck, how did I let things get away from me so often… I checked again and the bag was still empty. Obviously. Nothing left for the morning. I had to leave early for my lecture, too.
My clock told me it was 1am - I should be asleep now. But I decided on biting the bullet, grabbed my keys and pulled on my jacket, boots and coat. Not my scarf.
January was miserable at the best of times. But the sharp, frozen air outside was strangely refreshing, like a bucket of cold water. I was high on adrenaline, too. The nearest open shop was about a 5 minute walk. I might’ve dozed, since I blinked and I was there.
I trudged up the entrance. Automatic doors slid open with an off note chime. I recognised Lawrence. Not honestly a surprise - I only met him this late at night, the occurrences random, but increasingly persistent. He only spared me a passing glance before he quickly refocused back on the snacks he was holding.
The bright light here was almost nauseating. I found the right aisle, snatched up what I needed and silently joined the queue. Not that it was much of a holdup - but the person at the front was laughing and joking with a cashier who probably deserved a break. Lawrence wasn’t talkative. For now I was glad for it. Something in his quiet lifted the pressure to act fully human.
I sighed and leant against the sweets rack. The colourful packets were borderline hypnotic to my exhausted brain. A dazzling array of yellows and pinks, swirls, funky lettering, anything to lure in those wonderful impulse buys. My lids were about as heavy as lead. God, this guy was taking forever…
I let myself drift away for a bit. My neighbour’s voice was so low and soft, it took a moment to register.
“Excuse me… I need to get past you…”
Startled, I jumped, and regretted meeting his stare. Two icepick eyes boring into me like a lobotomy.
“Oh.” I moved to the side. He disappeared.
Lawrence didn’t come back, so I took his place and bought what I needed. I felt a little embarrassed. Did I really just nod off right in front of him? Jesus.
Exiting, I took a fresh gulp of oxygen, the world outside appeared to have died. Witching hour was upon the city now, silenced and watchful. I could even hear my own footsteps, my boots scuffing on the pavement. I set one before the other. Step, step, step. Never underestimate the crushing weight of silence. Thoughts were swarming around in the hive of my mind.
Future thoughts and past thoughts and everything in between. Assignments, dates, meals. Tossing around in a faulty washing machine. Step, step, step.
The mass of my shopping crinkled. Unease flooded me without reason. Or perhaps I had all the reason; I was alone, so defenceless… Strange tension raked down my upper vertebrae. The fine hairs stood up on the back of my neck, I reflexively whirled to look—
There was no one there. No one I could see.
Skittish, a lone doe in a big metal forest, I felt the urge to hide. I clutched the plastic bag to myself. It would make a lousy weapon, I thought. My heart raced in my chest like it was trying to escape. I made an effort to force it down. Ridiculous. Just the adrenaline…
I walked on, passing under dim yellow streetlights. The city council had updated most of the area with better, more radiant lamps, but this particular block was a bit overlooked. So between the flickering rays lay patches of complete and utter darkness. I sped up, and jumped again when my road was blocked by a motorcycle.
The big scarred biker revved his engine at me. I waved at him nervously and he let me pass. I didn’t care to decipher his wolfish grin. I just wanted to get home.
At the sound of my apartment door opening, Peaches let out a quiet chirp and leapt down from my bed.
The click of the lock told me I was fine and safe now. I stroked her flexible spine, ignoring how my own still tingled. Her tail wiggled in that happy way.
“Yes, this is for you… No, you can’t have it now.”
In my pyjamas, I debated if it was worth it to even attempt sleeping. Not if I crashed too hard too early. My blood was still pumping hard, anyway. So I ended up making this late night one that I never wanted to stop, pushing it and pushing it, until it was 4am and I realised with sinking dread that I only had a few more dwindling, choked out hours until my life resumed.
Everything was more beautiful when you had little time to savour it. Music painted in colours so evergreen. All of the books I’d never open. How thunder rumbled, loud and massive. I realised a heavy downpour was pattering against my windows. I envisioned the rain gathering and dribbling into soil, trickling down bark. The universe was so alive, birthing, living, rotting. Sleep numbed that, at once instant and endless. Just like dying. That might’ve been the adrenaline, too.
That’s when I heard the noise. An ear-piercing shriek, more animal than human. My response this time was to go rigid. It came from my floor. I stared down at it.
Mr. Davidson wasn’t happy. “Shut the fuck up!” I heard enraged stomping. Must’ve disturbed his rest.
I tried to remember who lived just below me… And I hoped they didn’t get it too rough in the morning. Maybe they’d just blasted a horror film by accident or something. The incident left me giggly. Or it might’ve been jitters. I padded over to my fridge and got a coke - a little treat. It bubbled like lava down my throat as I sat back down on my rickety bed, folding my legs.
Returning to my laptop, I imagined my neighbour was staying awake too. The thought was oddly comforting. This dark and secret gap in time was just for us.
Then, a quiet fluttering. A perishing. I looked up. A moth was beating its fragile wings against a bulb. So tiny, this insect boxed into 4 walls. It and I both.
Add flowers - this place might be my tomb.
Dividers by @/firefly-graphics
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ok so I have managed to lose the original fic ask game post that @wishthefish tagged me in a couple of weeks ago bUT I did save this screenshot so I will just randomly talk about these fics for a bit (I am always happy to talk about my fics for a bit, this is an open invitation) SO
I know I've been through the wars
This is part of the greater Xuyao (yes Wen Xu and Meng Yao, no I'm not sorry, they're immensely shippable if you're not a coward) 'choose your own adventure' verse where I basically lose my mind and create diverging timelines in almost all of which Meng Yao suffers terribly bc Meng Yao whump is weirdly easy to write
The cyoa thread for this is 'Wen Xu dies as in canon and Wen Chao decides he wants Meng Yao for himself' -> 'Wen Chao dies as in canon, WRH continues to let everyone else abuse MY' -> 'NMJ conceals the way MY has been treated so no one knows'
All the titles from the greater Xuyao cyao fic come from the The Amazing Devil song "Battle Cries", which I chose mostly because there was a cool lyric for the first fic back when it was supposed to be a one-shot, but also loads of the lyrics from the song work really well
I picked "I know I've been through the wars" for this chapter because unlike in the alternate branch of this fic where everyone finds out, only MY (and NMJ, to a certain extent) have any idea of what exactly MY has been through. Which is good because his trauma isn't being gossiped about! But is also Bad because people who him to be happy (people = LXC) keep accidentally making things worse :3
which then my few beloved commenters were like 'this is so evil!' and i was like 'it's not even that bad' and they were like 'YES it IS', but angst is my default at this point for some reason so I didn't notice oops
At the end MY runs away from the banquet to hide. There's currently one sequel branch for this (NMJ goes to find him and is actually helpful for once (this is largely NHS' fault)). I have some plans for another branch (LXC goes to find him and continues to try to help without knowing the problem) but the way my brain was taking it was almost Too Dark for me so I haven't written it (yet). I might. Or I might be nice to MY for once and have LXC go and actually find out the problem. But then I'd be being nice so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
If it takes fighting a war for us to meet, it will have been worth it
This is. Nie Mingjue/Jin Zixun. I am sorry about this one
So when I wrote the first Xuyao installment I really wanted to write but my brain wasn't clicking so I put the sunshot generation into a random name picker, spun it a bunch of times, and decided Meng Yao and Wen Xu would be interesting (it was going to just be a creepy dark fic and then I wrote like three sentences and went oh. it's a love story. oops)
ANYWAY a few months later when I was bored I spun the wheel a bunch more times so now I have a Selection of rare pairs for whenever I feel like it
Mingxun was Not the one I was going to write first but here we are
Basically my initial thoughts were "jin zixun gets bullied into going to war by his cousin and then gets his gay awakening when he gets shouted at my nie mingjue" and yeah I guess that Happened
The title is a lyric from "Helpless" from Hamilton and was @nemainofthewater's fault/idea, which I thank her sincerely for because I hate titling things. I also think it's really funny
This was SUPPOSED to be a short crack one-shot but then wishthefish bullied/persuaded/encouraged to write more and it's annoyingly fun so now there are at least three chapters with the potential of more
Takes place within a mixture of show and book canons, whichever is funnier at any given moment
Really, if Jin Zixun is too busy being distracted by da-ge then no one is causing problems at the hunt and no one is getting murdered by out of control Wen Ning so like. This could very much solve all the problems
#my writing#fic asks#there's no xuyao update this week because I'm visiting my family but I hope you will accept this humble alternative#this is an open invitation for anyone to send me asks/messages/tags asking about fics/ships/fandom stuff!
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