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mysaintkitten · 3 months

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im not really sure how to start this fic off but ... when i was rewatching watching the detectives, i couldn't help but have some thoughts about neil after him and violet sneak out of the pool.

(drabble) prompt: your step brother wants to help you warm up after swimming (18+ MINORS DNI)

WARNINGS: stepcest/incest (when writing this, i had step siblings in mind but it mostly reads as straight incest sorry lol), dom!neil if you squint, implied age gap (everyone’s legal), grinding, degradation

*not proofread*

when your step brother offered to take you swimming, the last place you expected to end up was in a strangers backyard pool.

it was fun, you couldn't lie, there was definitely an adrenaline rush to it.

but now the funs over. you sit in neil's car, soaking wet, with no dry clothes to wear.

"neil, i'm freezing." you whine, shivering in the passengers seat of neil's car as little droplets of water run down your body and still damp bathing suit. you cross your arms, unknowingly pushing your breasts together, your hard nipples begin to poke through the thin fabric of your bathing suit.

"i can see that, your tits are poking through your top." neil chuckles as he points to your tits, making you gasp in embarrassment before covering the stiff buds with your hands. neil just hums and slumps back a bit in his seat, spreading his thighs apart slightly.

"i know how to warm you up," neil hums before patting his lap, signalling for you to come over to him. "come on, don't be shy."

nervously, you crawl over to him and hover above his lap, trying to ignore the conflicting feelings you feel from straddling your step brother.

'''s only gonna work if you sit." neil coos as he forces your hips down onto his, forcing a small whimper out of your lips.

"n-neil this-" you mumble and try to lift your hips off his, but neil's got a stubborn grip on you and he's not letting you go any where. he shushes you quietly before rolling your hips, guiding you to move how he liked.

you moaned involuntarily at the feeling of his warm, hard cock beneath you. your mind spinning with confusion and excitement. neil leaned forward and nipped at your chest teasingly, peppering a few small kisses in there as well.

as he pulled his head back, you noticed him biting your bathing suit top, tugging the material down with his teeth. quickly, he lets the fabric go and kisses your right nipple, teasing the bud with his tongue while still rolling your hips against his concealed erection.

"still cold, darling?" neil feigned concern as he ran one of his hands up your body, teasing your nipple with his thumb, which are now hard for different reasons.

your cheeks flush harder as you feel yourself get wetter, "o-oh, no. i'm okay now, i promise."

"but you must still be freezing, sweetheart. look how hard these tits are." neil taunts, sneaking his other hand down between your legs and cupping your mound. "unless, of course, they're hard because you're turned on."

before you know it, neil pulls your bottoms aside and swipes a finger through your slick folds, forcing a shocked whine to fall from your lips.

"oh, my." neil purred as he felt your arousal coat his finger,

"what got you this wet, huh? i was just trying to warm you up ... like a nice older brother would ... this is how you react?"

"n-no i didn't m-mean to!" you stammer embarrassingly, feeling your thighs shake weakly beneath you as your core only got wetter for him.

"you're a sick little girl." neil teased with a smirk, sliding his middle finger inside of you before slipping it back out and circling your clit with the slick digit. "filthy fuckin' girl." neil continued to rub your clit with his fingers while attempting to pull down his shorts enough to free his cock. and after one good tug, his erection sprang out, his tip already glistening with arousal. you wanted to call neil out for also being turned on by this, but you quickly realized that you cared more about getting your much needed relief.

neil dragged a hand back down to your hips, lifting them up and aligning his head with your opening, barely pressing himself inside.

"do you want my cock?"

not wanting to verbalize your desire, you nod and drop your head in shame. that's not good enough for neil though, he needs it to be more degrading.

"say it." neil groans, gripping your chin with his thumb and index finger whine forcing you to look him in the eyes.

"i-i want your cock, please..." you whimper, humiliation lingering in your stomach. neil smiles at you and slowly brings his hands back down to your hips, forcing you down his length.

your mouth drops open as his cock nearly splits you in half. when you finally bottom out, your legs twitch pathetically and your breathing becomes shaky.

"now ride me like a good little sister."

—

i don't even want to say how long this took me to write. LOTS of trial and error. I've had this plot in my mind for a while now but i was only able to get a little bit of it actually written.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x fem!reader #neil lewis #neil lewis x reader #watching the detectives #neil lewis smut #hope y’all like this #:)

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yelenasdiary · 5 months

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For FicMas or whatever you gonna call it 🤭

So I still can't get these two out of my head but Headmistress Maria Hill and Vice Headmistress Yelenas Belova. They run a huge Private College in Paris. The college students have to wear uniforms but they don't care if the boys wear skirts or the girls wear pants they just have to wear the college colors and the college symbol. Reader is one of the top students studying culinary. She's close with Maria and Yelena since they used to tutor Reader when she was younger because she had a hard time learning then. On Winter break Reader asks them if they would like to join her and her family for Christmas and they said that they were busy with stuff as the Headmistress and Vice Headmistress of the college but Reader begged them to go with her and they finally gave in and agreed. Reader's family welcomed the two in with open arms and treated them like family. The three spent all week together until it was Christmas and they watched Reader open all of her presents before giving her a small box (necklace or bracelet I don't care which) and then they have Christmas dinner and laugh and chat about stuff.

You can decide whether or not there's smut at the end of it. If there is you can also pick if they're Intersex or not!!! 🤭

-🌊

Trapped by Snow

Pairing: Headmistress! Maria x Vice Headmistress! Yelena x Fem! Reader (Platonic)

Summary: After finally convincing your headmasters to join you for Christmas, a snow storm has a mind of its own.

Warnings:Comfort, No Warnings | 1.8K

AC:I hope you enjoy this!! It was really fun and something different to write xx

Holiday Special Masterlist

"Have a great Christmas break everybody! Stay safe and have a wonderful Christmas!" your culinary professor said with a smile as they dismissed the class for the much-awaited Christmas break. You packed up your belongings, the class was a rather relaxing session of theory catch up allowing you that extra time to get those extra marks that you wanted. Being one of the top students in the class was something your parents where very proud of, you weren't always great a schoolwork but if it was something you were interested in, you were able to get some of the top marks for said class.

You threw your backpack over your shoulder before making your way out the door, leaving the thought of your studies behind. The hall was crowded with other young adults making their way to the doors of stressless freedom. Fridays wishing you a happy holidays in passing as you made your way through the people and turning the corner. Unlike everybody else, you weren't aiming to get out of the building, instead you were on your way to the headmaster's office.

"Good afternoon, Y/n!" The receptionist greeted you with a warm smile.

"Good afternoon Alice! Excited for the Christmas break?" you asked as you took your backpack off and pulled out a container of freshly baked Christmas cookies.

"4pm couldn't come quick enough" she chuckled.

"Well, hopefully these can help you pull through the next hour" you replied as you handed the small container to her. Her eyes lit up, everybody loved your baking as well as your cooking and you couldn't bring yourself to leave the college without spreading a little Christmas joy to those who have been working so hard over the year.

"You're a gem!" She complimented as she snuck a cookie and closed the lid, almost melting with the taste exploding in her mouth. "These are delicious!! Thank you" she added with a smile. "You're welcome! I'm glad you like them, is Maria and Yelena in?" You asked.

Headmaster Maria Hill and Vice Headmaster Yelena Belova have known you since your parents made the big move from the States to Paris so you could attend the college without the stress of being in a different country alone. At first, it was a rocky start. Trying to fit in somewhere and understanding a whole different concept of learning had eventually taken its toll on you and the two women were always there to make sure you were okay. They even tutored you during the first 2 years of your studies, you grew pretty close with the two women and decided to invite them both to join you and your family for the holidays.

"They sure are, go on through" Alice mumbled with a mouthful of cookies. You thanked her and wished her a happy holiday before making your way to Maria's office, knocking on the hard wooden door.

"Come in" you heard Maria's voice softly travel from behind the door. You opened it slowly to be sure you weren't interrupting anything before making your presence known. Both women were heads down at their desks in paperwork.

"You know you're supposed to take a break every hour" you spoke, gaining the attention of the two headmasters. Maria smiled while Yelena just chuckled. "I wish, we have so many new enrolment forms that we have to get done before the next of the week!" Maria explained, running her hands through her hair to adjust it. You took a seat on the large leather sofa that the headmasters had in their office for decoration, making yourself at home.

"Well, you're going to have to take a break because it's Christmas break and I am inviting you both over for Christmas!" You said full of confidence. Yelena looked up at you as if you were joking, "you know we can't" she replied earning a nod of agreement from Maria. "You can't or you don't want too?" You challenged the blonde, a cheeky smirk tugging at your lips, "it'll be fun! plenty of food, games and my parents would love to have you both over" you added.

"As much as a we would love that honey, we just have way too much to do before the end of the year and getting things ready before you all return after Christmas" Maria replied. Yelena chuckled knowing full well that you weren't going to take no for an answer, she watched as you pulled out another container of freshly baked cookies and began to munch on one. "I mean it" Maria added as she playfully shook her head at you while you chewed on the Christmas treat.

"So do I" you replied shortly after, "come on, it's one day! There's plenty of food, trust me! My family can really cook up a feast, then after, we open some gifts and may I add, I did put a little something under the tree for you both as a thank you for a wonderful year and again, did I mention my parents would love to have you both over?" You added knowing you had already won Yelena over minutes ago. The room went silent, strong eye contact between you and Maria was shared before a defeat sigh came from her lungs, "Alright, we'll be there" she broke causing you to give her a rather big and very proud smile.

---

Christmas morning came faster than you could blink. You woke up to the sight of snow covering the front lawn of your home, a warm smile tugged at your lips as you grabbed your robe and raced down the stairs to greet your parents. "Merry Christmas love!" Your mother hugged you tightly, your father just gave you a soft nod as he was still downing his coffee and adjusting to being awake in such cold weather.

"Merry Christmas guys!" You smiled at the two of them.

"There's a snow storm coming in so I thought while I was getting lunch ready, you and your father would go out back and make sure everything is secure" your mother went on, already in her traditional Christmas apron. Although it was a little after 10am, your mother was always cooking early on Christmas day. "I'll just have a tea and go change into something else" you smiled before making your way over to the kettle. In the background, the daily news gave updates on the coming snow storm that you knew your mother would have on all day, your father wasn't one to worry so much about these type of things so he was a little more laid back. "Do you know when Miss Hill and Belova are arriving? I sure don't want them to get stuck out in the snow!" Your mother asked with concern.

"Uh, I did say we have Christmas lunch around 1pm so I think they mentioned something about being her around midday" you replied, pouring the boiling water into a mug. Your mother nodded and returned to her cooking while you took a seat next to your father and enjoyed the warm drink in your hands.

After helping your father in the backyard you took a shower and got ready for the ready. You could hear the chitter chatter from downstairs that told you that your two guests had arrived and you were rather excited to give them their gifts after Christmas lunch.

"You guys made it! Merry Christmas!!" you smiled as you greeted the two headmasters in the living room with a hug each. "Just! The snow is just getting worse!" Yelena replied.

"Lunch isn't too far away, please make yourselves at home" your mother inserted before you could say another word. You offered the women a glass of eggnog before the three of you sat around the living room talking about the school year.

----

After lunch it was time to open gifts, this was your families usually tradition, lunch then gifts. The smile on your lips grew with anticipation to give the headmasters the gift you've had wrapped under the tree for weeks. It was almost impossible to even talk to them the way your parents were talking to them! They loved them, especially your father who thought it was great that you were still close with them or maybe it was the hopes deep down you'd learn plenty of leadership skills from them the two.

"Roads are now closed due to the conditions of the snow storm, officials advise everybody to stay indoors until further notice!" The news reporter's voice caused the living room to turn silent. With the different conversations and plenty of shared laughs over lunch, the snowstorm was forgotten about. You looked outside the window which was already half covered in snow.

"Well, it looks like you two will be staying here until it's safe" your mother said, "I'll set up the guest room a little later, I hope you both don't mind sharing a room" she added.

"Don't stress, it'll be fine, thank you" Maria smiled.

You grabbed Maria's gift from under the tree and handed it to her before going back to get Yelena's. "Y/n! you didn't have to get us anything!" Yelena spoke as she kindly took the gift from your hands. "I know, but I wanted too"! You replied with a smile and returned to your seat to watch them open their gifts. Maria started first, slowly she peeled the Christmas themed gift wrap off each end of the present and pulled out a book you knew she was looking for.

"Oh my! Y/n, I have been looking everywhere for this!" She looked up at you, "where on earth did you find it?" she asked.

"I was able to find one online, took me forever to find it!" You replied knowing she loved the present.

"Thank you so much! I am lost for words, you shouldn't have!"

Yelena began to open her gift next, her eyes widened when she saw the ghostface action figure that she wanted for her collection. "How did you know?!" She asked you but you just chuckled and playfully shrugged your shoulders.

Maria rose from the sofa and handed you a gift, "this is from both of us, you're worked really hard this year, and we are both really proud of you" she smiled as you kindly took the gift.

"Thank you!" You smiled before you slowly began to open the gift. A silver bracelet with an engraved quote in a fancy font sat gracefully in the black box. "The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams." Read the quote as you picked it up to read. "This is so beautiful, thank you!" You smiled once more before getting up to hug the two friends.

Even though being snowed inside for the holidays wasn't on the list of things you wanted to happen, you were rather glad it did. You got to enjoy plenty of time with those you loved and cared for the most.

#yelenasdiary asks #🌊 anon #fanfiction #yelena belova #marvel #maria hill #maria hill x reader #yelena belova x reader #christmas

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angeart · 5 months

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And 29!

--from ao3 wrapped [writers edition]

29: Favorite line/passage you wrote this year?

this is a very interesting question! and also very difficult, given the amount of things i've written in combination with my bad memory. so of course i went and dug through things, overthinking this, even though, really, i know exactly what to answer. still, let me take the long route. (because i'm an idiot and there's no other way.)

so first i'll ramble about things i like.

starting with the phrase that always makes me weak, and i don't think i use it enough, but characters just dissipating into giggles—that exact wording. like. c'mon. that. whenever i get to use it, i'm so happy. it's such a lack of control and overflow of joy. the best thing ever.

but if we move into specific passages... (i go on a bit of a tangent, so the rest is under the line-) (dancing scene at the end there and a bit of a hmtb spoiler/sneakpeek/preview for you guys)

i looked over the cursed forest au fic (even with death haunting your footsteps, your flowers will bloom again), looking for pretty sentences, and the problem is, that fic is full of pretty sentences. (i honestly don't know how i did that, but it does make me happy.) something about words like the warzone of his good intentions, you know? (i had more. i'm trying to be concise.) (i promise.)

but really, there's one phrase in that fic that i do think about sometimes still. so it needs to be mentioned. here:

It still hurts, to be treated so gently, but unlike everything else, it hurts in a way he thinks he might be able to survive.

------

i also want to bring up a sentence from Elegy that lives in my head rent-free (this is from chapter 3, which i'm aware is unreleased as of now, but shh):

The grief is a guillotine, and he’s bending forward, hair falling away from his neck, baring skin and bracing for impact.

there's just something about that that refuses to let me go.

------

but! i also enjoyed writing happy things. (shocking)

especially this passage from these flowers will wither (like you and me), but they're not dead yet was very fun to write:

Grian grins at him, something bright and cheeky. “Do you want to try that again?”

There’s a pause when Scar attempts to recalibrate. (He fails.) (He absolutely fails.)

He tries to grab something rational in him, tries to tell himself that Grian means dancing. But his traitorous heart supplies a wholly different answer to him.

Scar pushes himself up and, with fingers sliding along Grian’s jaw, he presses his lips to Grian’s.

(They’re warm. They’re chapped. They’re Grian Grian Grian Grian.)

He feels the vibration of Grian’s laughter against him before he really registers the sound.

“That’s not what I meant,” Grian scolds, but there’s no bite in it; he sounds entirely too pleased and amused, even as he piles a handful of sand on top of Scar’s head in playful revenge.

------

and this honestly now brings me to hmtb. which is where we anchor.

believe it or not, there is a happy scene that i can't stop thinking about (just the sheer power of it, across all the pain and messes and saddness—scar making grian laugh like this.)

------ hmtb chapter 49:

Scar looks at him innocently and presents his question: “What is a romp, Impulse?”

Grian bursts out laughing.

A big, toothy grin spreads across Scar’s face at the sound.

Impulse’s eyes briefly flit to Mumbo and he feels his face get hot. “I— What— That’s not fair!” he whines. “That’s not a truth, that’s a, Scar, I’m not a dictionary!”

At that, Grian laughs harder, bending over. His giggles tip over proper cackling, a bit breathless around the edges, and Scar thinks it’s the most wonderful sound in the whole world.

------ and of course this moment from chapter 47:

Neither of them can help it; their lips treacherously stretch into smiles where they’re pressed against each other, before they both helplessly dissipate into giggles, feeling lightheaded and high.

“What are we doing,” Grian huffs out through his laughter.

“Kissing,” Scar replies cheerfully and demonstratingly places three kisses along Grian’s jaw.

It’s the best thing in the world.

------

bet you didn't expect me to pull out the happy scenes out of this mess of a fic. ha.

but also! one the things i really like and enjoy is throwing anything to do with explosives, tnt, fire, etc, at scar and grian. like this:

Skin tingling and heart feeling like TNT on the verge of explosion, Scar moves to follow him, blindly, willingly, the way he’d follow him anywhere.

and this:

Watching him, Scar laughs quietly. He thinks of the sound the flint and steel makes, of the little click, of the hiss of TNT as it readies itself to cause damage. It sounds like his heart feels. He thinks of sparks that catch on leaves and grass and bark, a tree going up in flames, the catastrophic heat spreading violently to anything it touches, and he wonders if that is how Grian’s heart feels.

------

now, since i'm already rambly. there is one bit of hmtb i keep thinking back to constantly. and it's a particular conversation from chapter 21 (the talk in the middle of a crisis). this bit in particular:

“He wasn’t afraid then. He knew you could kill him, but he wasn’t scared. And you know what, Grian? You didn’t kill him,” he finishes softly.

“I… didn’t kill him?” Grian repeats, dazed and wobbly.

“He wasn’t scared, and you didn’t kill him”

(you guys should keep this in mind too. it might get a callout sometime, uhhhhh, around chapter 100 or so at this rate—)

(don't worry about that, ofc.)

and now for the real answer. (wow.)

because here's the thing. you're asking what's my favourite passage. and really, i love all those other things too, but there's one particular bit of writing that hits closer than any other.

the dancing bits.

the heartachy, complicated, painful dancing bits.

and yes, this ties to the whole fic i wrote about them dancing in the desert, but listen. the purely-hmtb bits? those? those. okay?

here we go:

------ hmtb chapter 37: call of the desert

Scar sighs a little and says: “I miss it.”

“Scar,” Grian’s voice is absolutely unsteady.

They haven’t really talked about the desert, not since it was over.

Nobody ever talks about life games, if they can avoid it.

But now Grian sits here and he has to forcefully remind himself that the skin over his knuckles isn’t torn raw and that Scar’s blood isn’t coating his hands and he has to accept that Scar misses the desert and Grian also misses it, in a way, and it’s all so dizzying, it makes him lightheaded.

“We used to dance,” Scar says thoughtfully. “Why don’t we do it anymore?”

“I forgot how,” Grian barely manages to get out. He didn’t forget. In fact, he remembers every step Scar taught him. He remembers them stumbling together into a fall, a small giggling heap on top of the warm sand, limbs tangled. He remembers the moment when Scar grinned wildly at him, joy bright in his eyes, as they completed a couple of steps without a hitch for the first time. He remembers how they laughed and danced, giddy and high on life in a world that promised nothing but death.

He doesn’t want to remember. It hurts his heart.

“I can teach you again,” Scar suggests softly.

The pain in Grian’s heart just gets worse.

Scar reaches for Grian’s hand, then. Even if they’re both sitting on Grian’s bed and they can’t dance like this, he still slides his fingers underneath Grian’s palm and brings it up, in exactly the same way he held it when they danced. With curved lips, he hums a melody.

Grian looks at him, absolutely wretched. His hand twitches in Scar’s grasp, but he doesn’t pull it away. “Scar,” he half-whispers, in a miserable tone. He meant to say stop, but he can’t bring himself to. So he just pleads, using Scar’s name itself, hoping the other man will get it.

Scar studies Grian for a second, before he lowers their hands. He huffs out a small laugh. “It’s okay. We can leave it for some other time.”

Grian purses his lips. He doesn’t say there won’t be another time. He doesn’t say he doesn’t want this. He doesn’t say that something in him desperately wants this, actually, please Scar please.

------

but, you know what. it isn't over.

this answer has been long enough. i know. i know. (i appreciate and love everyone who bothered to read this far <3 ) but. but there's more.

there is more, and it's so closely related, these scenes are entwined and live snugly side-by-side in my heart. but. here's the thing.

this next bit is 1,2k long, and it's from a chapter that, as of now, hasn't been released yet. for the curious, greedy, hungry souls (love you all to bits), here it is:

------ hmtb chapter [unspecified]

Scar blinks and recalibrates under the scrutiny. His eyes dart to the jukebox and he lets a smile spread across his lips, as he reaches out a hand to Grian. “Hey, G, you wanna dance?”

Grian’s eyes widen a fraction, thrown off by the abrupt suggestion. “I’m… not sure,” he manages to say, eyes dropping to Scar’s invitingly outstretched hand, palm-up and ready for him.

His emotions wrangle in him—a need to be close, to give in, to accept everything Scar’s giving him, pushed violently against the sharp memories of sand and desert, something happy tiding over into blood and pain and misery.

He flexes his fingers, pulls them into a fist and then stretches them out, trying to unknot the tension and release the slight tremble that courses through them. His throat feels dry, all of a sudden.

“It’s okay,” Scar says in the softest tone that never fails to tug at Grian’s heart. “I can lead.”

The music turns mildly cacophonic, askew and sick. It buzzes and pitches and tilts, in a way music isn’t supposed to be able to. And Grian realises that he’s told Scar before that he forgot how to dance.

Scar taught him all the steps, back in the desert. A lot of hours spent in the stifling air upon sun-warmed evening sand, stumbling and laughing and holding onto each other. Their skin was more tanned then. Their eyes were brighter, their souls wilder. They felt unstoppable.

Grian feels anything but right now.

He doesn’t know if he can take it.

But Scar’s reaching out to him and Grian finds that he cannot turn away from it, his body shackled and chained, unable to resist. And so even if everything in him screams no, he still finds himself reaching back, meeting Scar’s hands with his own trembling fingers, trepidation sinking its teeth into him.

Scar’s smile brightens and oh, maybe it’s not trepidation that Grian feels.

He feels Scar’s fingers take hold of his hand, secure and warm; they pull at him, but not in a destabilising way. It’s the opposite: they tell Grian exactly where to be. Scar’s other arm finds Grian torso and seamlessly slides across to his back, sending shivers down Grian’s spine; his wings stretch out and shudder, before they fall back, feathers lightly brushing over Scar’s skin.

Everything about this is electrifying, and it’s driving Grian haywire.

He thinks maybe he needs to stop thinking. Maybe he needs to give in to the part of him that wants to let Scar have control of the two of them now; the part of him that wants to trust and believe that he’s safe; the part of him that craves affection with ugly, hungry desperation.

Scar leans closer and with a rumbling baritone wrapped in velvet, he checks: “Ready?”

Running on nothing but instinct, Grian squeezes at Scar’s hand.

With a low chuckle, Scar lets go of Grian’s back and Grian almost gasps at the abrupt loss—but all Scar does is guide Grian’s free hand to his waist. “Like this,” he murmurs, his voice just a step away from purring, and then his hand slots back against Grian’s spine.

A trembling breath leaves Grian’s lips and he dips his head, leaning forwards, inching closer to Scar. He feels the response in the way Scar’s touch on his back turns firm, accepting the new closeness with reverent neediness. He can’t see Scar’s face, but he can tell Scar’s lips are curved in a smile, cheeks slightly dimpling.

He almost wishes to look, but he can’t, he can’t, it’s too much.

He takes a deep breath though his nose. The air isn’t dry and hot. The ground doesn’t shift underneath his feet.

It hasn’t shifted underneath his feet in ages, but right now in this very moment, a part of Grian distantly thinks that it should. That if they’re going to dance, it should be atop a mountain, feet sinking into sand.

They’re standing on carpeted floor, and the music disc is one they didn’t have in the desert, the sounds of it wrapping around them in a rhythm completely discordant to the fast beating of Grian’s heart.

With gentle and deliberate move, Scar directs them to sway. Their feet shift, steady on the solid floor, something learned and simple. Scar leads them in careful, basic steps, the ones he used at the very beginning to teach Grian. Back when even that was too much, and Grian kept stepping on his feet, and Scar kept catching him.

Scar doesn’t need to catch Grian now, because Grian knows these steps. They’re imbued in his muscle memory, something sunken and anchored, a part of his soul that’s reserved for things that feel like home.

Testingly, Scar throws in something more complex. He pulls Grian along, turning them in circles, every step confident and filled with joy. The music is the background rhythm, but they’re both locked somewhere else, in a fragment of a memory—something that used to be; something that Scar believes could be again.

With a curve to his lips, Scar hums and remarks: “You said you don’t remember.”

Grian’s breath hitches and it’s only now that he lifts his head to meet Scar’s gaze. Despite that, his feet do not stumble; he doesn’t need to watch where he steps, he knows it all by heart. His gaze anchors in green eyes and something rises within him so tidally and overwhelmingly that he feels hot wetness blur his vision all of a sudden. “How could I forget?” he manages past the lump in his throat.

Scar gently lets go of Grian’s hand and instead reaches to touch Grian’s jaw, brushing his thumb soothingly over Grian’s cheek as he takes in the raw, ravaging emotion in Grian’s eyes.

Grian moves his suddenly free arm around Scar, fingers finding purchase in the fabric of Scar’s shirt, digging into it until he has a firm grip. His lungs spasm in his chest, his heart stutters, his wings droop then lift and spread. A loose feather drops to the floor and Scar sidesteps it expertly, as if it was somehow too precious to damage.

“You remember,” Scar murmurs, an odd inflection to his voice.

Grian’s skin buzzes where Scar touches it; a tingling, warm sensation spreads from Scar’s fingertips and robs Grian of breath. “Of course,” he murmurs, quiet, destabilised.

Scar’s eyes crinkle in joy, lips spreading into a bright, toothy smile that ends in dimpled skin as he looks at Grian. He makes no attempt to call out Grian’s earlier lie; he seems content in knowing that this is the truth, warm and alive underneath his fingers, guided by his steps. “Oh, I wouldn’t mind teaching you again, but this makes me so happy!” he admits openly, fractionally heightening their tempo as he leads them in spinning circles, everything in him attuned to the music even as it becomes nothing more than a background noise.

Grian isn’t ready for those words. Nor for the way Scar looks at him.

He feels like he’s drowning, and Scar’s both his sea and his oxygen.

Scar starts humming in tune, the happy expression lingering on his face, and it’s only then that the discordant rhythm of the song disentangles and starts making sense to Grian. It’s only the reverb of Scar’s voice that puts coherency into Grian’s existence; into their steps across the carpet that doesn’t give underneath their weight; into the way the room sways around them, full of warm shadows and flickering flames and muted colours not quite matching sand.

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seeingteacupsindragons · 8 months

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Fic Authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics works that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love❤

Anon, the fact that you crossed out "fic" on this just to send it to me is honestly so sweet. You're adorable and ILY in a very platonic, social media way.

That said, none of my most favorite fiction pieces are currently available publicly for various reasons. So this is going to be, I suppose, "My favorite stuff you can find on my blog."

There's already a "Marr's Favorites" list on my YuuMori Meta list, but it's longer than five, and I have other stuff here. So.

"A Ceiling Fan to the Heart": Probably the only fiction piece on this list! While I have some flash fic pieces floating around that will be hard even for me to find here and some flash written off prompts, this is I think the only full short story I have posted to Tumblr, because I specifically wrote it for Tumblr to share with you all.

"Richard Ranasinghe de Vulpian’s Backstory Is Very Queer: An Essay": A meta piece I was honestly turning over for months before I wrote it up for a dear friend's birthday (she's very into meta). I originally wanted to turn this into a proper lit essay with JSTOR sources and such. It didn't quite turn into that, but I think it's a really good read "Richard Ranasinghe de Vulpian's Backstory Is Very Queer: The Aspec Amendment" is exactly what it says on the tin, and basically a tag onto it, so I'm combining these.

"Seigi's Queer Coming of Age": This has a similar backstory to the other one, and it once again just really fun to talk about queer stuff.

"The Man Who Set Himself On Fire to Keep Others Warm": William's motif meta. I'm proud of it, okay?

"The Man Who Goes Through Hell and High Water": Sherlock's motif essay. These were fun to write, even if this one was written while my apartment was flooded.

Much of my ace and aro education stuff was posted as threads on twitter originally...I should see how much of them I can save before Twitter totally implodes. I'm proud of a lot of them, actually, but most of them aren't here on Tumblr right now.

Anyway, stuff that didn't make the cut that I think is also pretty great include:

"No One Tell Sherlock" / "It Doesn't Hurt at First, Does It?": I like this one a lot because I really wrote it trying to incorporate a lot of fiction story-telling techniques in it to really amp up the emotional punch instead of just being purely analytic. It could probably use a good edit, but it's fun.

God, I was just looking at the "Marr's Favorites" list to pick and choose, and they're all really good and I love all of them. If you're into YuuMori meta, go read those and gimme feedback lol.

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donnerpartyofone · 7 months

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It's good that there's an active, public discussion of the apparent effects of being too online, like everybody generally knows about the hazards of misinformation, radicalization, anonymous bullying (or becoming a bully because you feel safer doing it from the other side of a screen than you would in real life), exaggerated tribal senses of Us vs Them, etc. But I think one thing that we don't talk about as much, that's become really insidious, is this kind of toxic know-it-allism. This might fly under the radar a little more because it doesn't have to involve hostility--actually a lot of people who act like this think they're really being helpful. But there's been this loss of agnosticism and a loss of just knowing your own limits that I experience as really pervasive.

I guess social media appears as a certain kind of opportunity to different people, like for some people it's a chance to experience connection, for others it's a chance to pick fights, or a chance to be popular even if you're not in real life, or it's a way to acquire knowledge, or to express yourself creatively, or it's about escapism, or whatever--I think there's probably a Main Thing that social media represents for different individuals. But I think a lot of people's basic know-it-all inclinations have become extremely activated by social media, and they mainly see it as a chance to go around educating or correcting people, with this attitude like they're spreading enlightenment and doing us all a big favor. And it often turns out they don't REALLY know what they're talking about, it's just a matter of applied cliches and hot (or luke warm) takes they absorbed from Reddit and they've been going around with the unchecked impression that that's the same thing as knowledge, or--I see this one a lot--they're kind of aping a certain style of critical rhetoric that looks and sounds and probably feels like actual thought, but it isn't really, it's just posturing and imitation that feels good to the person doing it.

People who do this don't usually seem to know they're being obnoxious and that they're not as smart as they think they are--I mean that's a given, because self-awareness is specifically the antidote for believing that you know more than you really do--and I think probably a lot of these people have been victimized by the feeling that clicking a lot of links online is the same thing as being educated. But I witness this all the time because I have a pretty agnostic mindset in a lot of ways, I believe that ambivalence and ambiguities are the stuff of life and you never percieve or apprehend as much as you think you do, so I write in a musing, speculative tone that seems to get the know-it-alls VERY excited, like they've detected a question mark and they think this is their big chance to swoop in and rescue some grateful person from the maw of ignorance. It happens a lot that I innocently post something I wonder about, and suddenly I have more than one person delivering this explanatory monolog to me as if I'm the dumbest most helpless person alive and they're like scooping me up and putting me back in the nest so I don't get lost and now they get to feel great about themselves.

(And let's be honest, people will also do this if there is no question mark in the post, and also if you already made it clear IN the post what your conclusions are, like in that case people are still happy to repeat back to you what you just said with this air like they're the one who thought of it.)

But I have to say that even setting aside how condescending this is, that quality of extreme, unquestioning certainty is just extraordinarily unattractive, that total lack of humility or reflectiveness is not remotely as impressive as people seem to think it is--it usually makes you seem LESS intelligent, and also it just makes social media less fun. Like I'm trying not to let it affect how I choose to amuse myself, but more and more it happens that I post something and I think, oh god, I know exactly how the know-it-alls are going to respond to this, this is going to make some stranger talk to me like they're my fucking dad, and then they do, and I just have to silently manage my annoyance because engagement is the worst possible reaction.

Anyway this reminds me of an experience I had at work like 15 years ago when I foolishly repeated something Tom Waits said about how the internet has depleted people's sense of wonder, like the feeling of having continuous and instantaneous access to (what feels like) information is reducing the amount of time that you experience curiosity and use your imagination to try to grapple with a question. And this fucking hippie-dippy coworker of mine who named himself after Langston Hughes and who claimed to be a shaman, and who eventually turned into one of our more evil businessmen, came at me with that soulless smile of his and tried to explain how in fact constantly acquiring (what you assume are) facts on the internet IS the same thing as wonder. And I totally took the bait and said you know, think about what happens in your mind when you are wondering (v) about something, the sense of wonder (n) comes from that, it's the opposite of feeling resolved and unsurprised and like you have no more questions. You can be AMAZED by information, but that's obviously not the same thing as the condition of wonder that I am very clearly describing. But of course he just kept like insisting that looking up shit on Wikipedia and getting immediate (allegedly) factual answers for everything is the same as wonder, I guess because he thinks of wonder as a positive emotion and he gets positive feelings when things become unmysterious. But it started to become clear that it didn't really matter to him who was right, because what I was saying about our diminishing experiences of curiosity, mystery, and imaginative problem-solving isn't actually dependent on the proper definition of the specific word "wonder"; this guy just loved how upset I was getting and he was feeding off it like a vampire, and he finally left for the day about as happy as I've ever seen him. The vibe was so ugly that once he was gone everybody came over to me and said ARE YOU OK?? and took me out for drinks. And I mean whatever, that guy's a fucking parasite and it didn't really matter what we were talking about as long as he felt like he hurt me, but his general malignancy is probably still connected in some way to that unattractive quality of extreme and delusional certainty that so many people are laboring under these days.

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majorbaby · 8 months

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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 🤍

thank you! i enjoyed reading through your list. in the order i would recommend them in:

Goodbye, Farewell and Amen to that Oliver/Trapper/Hawkeye, Rated E

This was the most fun I've ever had writing anything. Oliver and Trapper are in an established relationship (I called it friends with benefits, but i fully wrote them in love) when Ollie gets his discharge papers. They start to have goodbye (farewell and amen) sex when they're walked in on by Hawkeye and everyone goes to bed satisfied.

My interest in these three has never waned, they're hot, they're probably the MASH throuple I can best imagine cohabiting long term (they've had practice) and in MASH Goes to Maine Oliver and Trapper do move to Maine to help Hawkeye establish a clinic so like, in my brain it's canon.

cherry bomb! Trapper/Hawkeye, Rated E I wrote this for Valentine's Day this year. Hawkeye wears lingerie for Trapper while they're on R&R together, blowing his mind amongst other things.

It's kinky (feminization with a working girl/john RP) but I think when they do RP/kink/a scene it's more like they're doing a bit. It's a yes-and? activity, with room for improvisation and breaks, and roles aren't set in stone.

Prom Night Trapper/Hawkeye, Rated E

My very first foray into proper smut. I wrote this for the 50th anniversary of MASH. It's a post-ep for s01e03 Requiem for a Lightweight which I maintain is the horniest episode of MASH. Not my best work but I think it's a solid entry and it helped me work through my thoughts on what their sex is like.

A man ahead of his time

This is a Trapper multiverse anthology I used to add to on a weekly basis. It's not abandoned but it has served its purpose, which was to force myself to write after considering myself retired from fanfiction for many years. I still have lots of prompts and WIPs for it in the drafts and I may continue adding to it.

I've linked to the most recent chapter, which I published on the 40th anniversary of GFA's original air date earlier this year. It's an AU where Trapper didn't leave and is there for the final days of the war. For something I wrote very hastily to make an arbitrary deadline, I am quite fond of it. It's mostly a tense Trapper-BJ interaction that resolves as warmly as I can imagine it being between them, with Hawkeye's breakdown looming over both of them.

Keep me warm in your love, then you softly leave Trapper/Hawkeye, Rated T It's all right. I no longer pine for an in-person Trapper/Hawkeye goodbye scene beyond what we got in s03e07 Check-Up. But a special place in my heart for the first piece of writing that came out of me after a 7 year nothing. And I really would describe it as having "come out of me". It's special because I don't glom onto ships ever, but I was very affected by Trapper and Hawkeye. I'm still plenty interested in them separately, but they're the only time I've ever felt this way about a ship, so it's nice to know what that feels like.

i thank her all the time but a very special shout out to @marley-manson who frequently edits my work, is a willing sounding board for my head canons and has been along for most of my public fandom journey. and to my long-suffering trapper, @ummide who doesn't go here but enthusiastically yes-ands me every time i message them about The Blorbos anyway.

#im gonna share 'prom night' again in a few days for the one year anniversary but yeah #if there's any one of these i would like people to give a chance it's definitely oliver/trapper/hawkeye #i got sappy at the end because i was remembering the process of writing 'keep me warm' sijdfosjfo which was done in a vaccuum #it's nice to have friends who are as enthusiastic about your work as you are including you sarah #my fic

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someonefantastic · 11 months

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“Is there a reason you’re blushing like that?” For vacation au cangel 💗

This took forever to finish because for some reason instead of writing a, you know, drabble for some reason I chose to write the entire first date scene which turned out to be over 2k words. I swear I'm nearly incapable of writing something short for this fandom smh

Anyway this is a sequel to this fic and basically the premise of this au is that everyone is human, there's no supernatural elements, and Cordelia and Angel meet while on respective vacations

___

The flurry of butterflies in Cordelia's stomach have officially upgrades to bats--and she's pretty sure they're waging a war. To say she's nervous for her dinner date with Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Frosted-Tips is an understatement; she's been jittery all evening prompting some lighthearted jabs from Faith and Fred. It's like she's in high school, except Queen C never really got nervous on her dates so maybe it's more like she's about to do an audition for a very successful producer. Either way, she's nervous and she's not really sure why.

The elevator dings and she takes a deep breath, smoothing out the long light gray skirt of her dress. Giving herself one last glance in the elevator's reflective surfaces, she pulls her shoulders back and strides out into the lobby.

She spots Angel almost immediately and her heart immediately picks up it's pace. She could never forget how pretty he is but if she did, the sight of him standing there in a navy button up that hugs his form perfectly and dark jeans is a very good reminder. The smile that spreads across his face as he spots her threatens to turn her insides to jelly and she gives him a wave as she crosses the lobby.

"Hi."

"Hi," he greets back, eyes leaving her face for a moment to scan down her dress. "You look beautiful."

She feels her cheeks grow warm. "Thank you. And you look very handsome yourself."

His smile simply grows and she decides that it's right up there with the sunset and the Grand Canyon for most beautiful sights she's ever seen.

He offers her his arm and she automatically takes it. "Shall we?"

"Oh yes please. I'm starving."

He chuckles as they head to the resort's dining area.

___

Dinner goes off really well. Cordelia can't remember the last time she had this much fun with a guy but they've barely stopped talking since they sat down. Well, to be honest, it's been mostly her talking and him listening but he's been asking her so many questions about herself that it feels sort of unavoidable--after all she is chatty. But he seems to be enjoying himself and she certainly knows that she is so she really hopes this is going well by all accounts.

"So, Angel," She says when there's a lull in the conversation, "We've talked so much about me but I want to know more about you. Like what do you do for a living? Or what brings you here?"

He swallows the steak he's been chewing--he likes it rare and to be honest, she finds that a little weird, but it's definitely not a deal breaker. "I work at a law firm, leading the security team. I don't love it but it pays the bills. And I'm here because my friend--you might've not noticed him but he was playing basketball with me. Was wearing orange shorts." An amused smile pulls at Cordelia's lips as she thinks of Fred. "He knows a guy who works here and managed to get us a good deal." Picking up a knife, he starts cutting into his steak. "I've been so busy with work and felt like I wasn't around Connor nearly enough so--" He stops mid sentence, knife halfway through the meat and gives her a guilty look. "Oh."

Eyebrows creasing, Cordelia puts down the wine glass she was about to sip from. "What?"

"I'm sorry, I just... I never know when or how to bring this up. I'm still so new to this and..." He trails off and Cordelia's brain fills with countless worst case scenarios. Angel takes a deep breath. "I have a son."

The scenarios freeze and dissipate in the blink of an eye. "Oh?"

He nods, a little uncertain. "His name is Connor, he's five." Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out his wallet and flips it open to reveal a picture of him--sans frosted tips--and a little boy with dirty blonde hair and a grin that reminds her of Angel's.

Cordelia feels a smile spread across her face. "He's adorable."

Angel nods his head, practically beaming with pride. "He is. He's going into first grade this year and he already knows all of the alphabet and is starting to read!" His eyes light up as he talks and Cordelia finds herself captivated. "He's really smart and he's athletic too. You should've seen him on his junior hockey team, one game he scored three goals." Stopping himself, he rubs the back of his neck and chuckles awkwardly. "Sorry, I didn't mean to get carried away."

"No, don't apologize." She gives him a soft smile, covering the hand he has resting on the table with hers. "Your son sounds wonderful and it's really sweet hearing you talk about him. You really love him."

"I do," He says fondly, his eyes going far away. "His mother and I... well we were never good together and it didn't end well. She's no longer in the picture."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It was for the best. And well, Connor? He's the best thing to ever happen to me."

Scratch his smiles, the sincerity and love in his voice and written across his face is absolutely breathtaking.

"That's why I'm on this vacation," He continues, "I wanted to spend more time with Connor and give him cool experiences. It's what he deserves."

She squeezes his hand. "That's really sweet." A thought strikes her and she frowns. "Why are you here with me then? You should be with your son."

He ducks his head. "Is it bad if I say I needed a break from him?"

She laughs and shakes her head. "Not at all. This girl at work has kids and she once told me a big reason why she chose to return to work was to get out of the house every once in a while, so I get it." A playful smile dances across her lips. "Is that your only reason though...?"

With a smirk, he grasps her hand and lifts it to his lips. "Not at all. I saw you sitting by the pool and nearly got hit in the head with a basketball." She chuckles at the image, her stomach flipping, though not unpleasantly. "I'm very glad you agreed to dinner."

"So am I," She says softly, warmth bubbling inside of her. Tearing her eyes away from her face, she returns to her meal, cutting off a piece of her scallops. "So, if you're on this date with me, where's Connor?"

"He's with his uncles." She glances at him, prompting him to explain, "I came on this trip with a few of my friends. There's Gunn--it's his last name--he's the guy I mentioned before. He works security with me. Then Wesley, it's a long story how I know him but he works at the museum where I'm from archiving old books or something. And then Doyle, who's like my brother. Youo might've seen him on the court as well, Wesley was watching Connor during his nap time." He takes a sip of his wine. "They all agreed to look after him so I could be here with you."

"Well tell them I say thank you. They sound like great guys."

"Yeah I really appreciate them." His glass clinks softly against his plate as he sets it down. "What about your friends? They seemed interesting."

"That's one way of putting it," She says with a snort. "I met Faith in high school through a girl we both knew but we didn't really become friends until later on in our lives. She did time a few years back, it's not really my story to tell, but once she got out she started a non-profit helping kids to get off of the streets. I help her out." Taking another bite of scallops, she continues, "And then I met Fred when I accidentally signed up for what I thought was an all inclusive retreat but turned out to be five days in the mountains taking care of some woman's farm." They both laugh. "We certainly bonded."

"Seems like it," he says shoulders still shaking.

"They're good friends even though Faith has less of a filter than I do."

He hums around his bite of steak. "Good to know."

They lapse into comfortable silence, eating their respective meals and occasionally sneaking glances at the other. But a tightness wraps itself around Cordelia's spine, fear manifesting itself physically at the possibility of vulnerability, at the realization of how relaxed she feels around this man in such a short amount of time. She doesn't know him, not truly, and yet she wants to with such a fierce desire that it scares her. Not only that but she wants him to know her as well, to let him strip her bare of her defenses, allow him to crawl inside her skin and know the parts of her she's kept on lock from everyone else.

It's a terrifying thought to realize how much she wants this and more importantly, just how much he could hurt her if she let him.

Swallowing down her anxieties with a gulp of wine, she levels her gaze at Angel. A smile slips across her lips at the crease in his brow as he concentrates on cutting his steak, her heart fluttering at the tensing muscles in his hand. And she decides right then and there that she won't let him hurt her--but she also won't let her fears get in the way of getting to know this beautiful man.

___

By the time dinner--followed by dessert and a walk around the resort--is over, the moon is high in the sky and those still awake have gathered at the bars and other places with nightly activities. The hallway to Cordelia's suite is quiet though, the only sound is the soft elevator ding and the scuffing of footsteps as Cordelia and Angel make their way to the door.

They walk hand in hand, bodies so close together that their shoulders bump occasionally. The door gets closer and the bats in Cordelia's stomach become tiny vampires, gnawing away at her insides. Part of her doesn't want this night to end, to be honest it's the most enjoyable date she's had in a very long time. Talking with Angel feels like talking to an old friend; there's an ease and a comfort to their conversations, a rhythm that they found so quickly that just feels natural. She genuinely enjoys being with him--something she can't say for very many of her past relationships.

As they stop in front of her room, the other part of her waits in nervous anticipation for how this night is going to end.

"Well, this is me," She says, glancing at her room number as her body turns to face him. "How much do you want to bet my friends are in the living room just waiting to ambush me?"

He chuckles. "My friends probably will do the same."

"Why do we put up with them?" She asks teasingly.

He laughs again and ducks his head. A silence spreads between them, tense and exciting, wrought with anticipation and the pounding of Cordelia's heart. She watches him study his shoes, shift back and forth, as if gathering up the courage. It's cute how shy he's being but the silence stretches on one second too long and she can't help the sigh she heaves.

"Well? Aren't you going to kiss me?"

His head snaps up and his cheeks go red, one hand moving to run through his frosted tips. "Well-I-I didn't want to assume. I really like you and I didn't want to mess--"

He's abruptly cut off as Cordelia surges forward and firmly presses her mouth against his.

Angel relaxes almost instantly, his hands finding her hips and gently holding on. She palms his face, kissing him softly, tenderly, but without an ounce of hesitation, like walking into a pool for the first time and feeling the cool waters slowly warm. His skin is soft beneath her hands, lips like ambrosia and when he parts them slightly her head spins.

She pulls back before it can go any further, before she breaks all carefully crafted defenses and invites him in for something she hasn't done on a first date since high school. But she already mourns the loss, her mouth tingling with the ghost of his kiss and she steps back, letting her hands drop from his face before she can give into the temptation to press her lips hard against his and never come up for air again.

His hands remain on her hips for half a second more, thumbs running slow circles against the satin of her dress and then he lets go, looking at her with wonder and warmth, his cheeks pink.

“Is there a reason you’re blushing like that?” She teases gently, voice coming out soft, nearly breathless.

He smiles, not a large beaming grin or a gentle quirk of his lips but a soft curve that she longs to run her fingertips across. "I hadn't realized just how much I wanted to kiss you."

She feels warmth bloom in her chest and spread up her neck, flushing her face. "Me too."

"I should let you get some sleep," he says hesitantly, like it's the opposite of what he really wants. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Absolutely." And then, without thinking, she presses up on her toes and kisses him once more. "Goodnight, Angel."

His voice sounds breathless, wistful. "Goodnight, Cordelia."

#ats #angel the series #cordelia chase #angel the vampire #cangel #fanfiction #fanfic #CA vacation au #skipps writes #asks #julie tag

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buckywiththegoodhair86 · 9 months

Note

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💗

Thanks, Friend!

I'm not entirely sure how to judge this other than by ones I re-read most often and the ones I'm most proud of writing. So, all of these are some of both, I guess.

Captain Rogers and the Norseman's Cube. I'm genuinely pleased with and proud of how this one turned out, and I enjoy nice slow read-throughs of it when I'm chilling. Also, little headcanons and side characters from this one tend to bleed out into a lot of my other fics.

A Little Problem. This one's just really cute, okay? Even though I wrote it and I know how it's going to go, it still gives me the warm fuzzies. It also includes one of my most favorite lines that I have ever written: ""I think Miss Natasha is waiting to go on with the story," he said with an awful lot of dignity for someone with a hot chocolate mustache and marshmallow residue on his nose."

My Heart Don't Wish To Roam (specifically the medieval AU). I like all of these AUs and they're a lot of fun to write, but the medieval one got well away from me in the writing, and I reined it back in eventually and I think it turned out the best story of the set so far. (Also, the camping scenes.)

A Day In The Life. I like this one because it alternates between funny and Feelings. I had fun coming up with all the different scenarios and interactions and trying to figure out the sorts of things Steve and Bucky and Sam do when they're not fighting crime. It's also a nice exploration of the Bucky Recovering From Hydra feelings without getting too much, and also at one point Peter Parker teaches Steve Rogers how to use the word 'yeet'.

A Second Chance At Keeping Him Safe. This one was more serious than a lot of stuff I'd written before, and I like how it turned out. I liked getting to really look into things in the movie-verse and not an AU from Peggy's point of view, which I'd never done too in depth before. And I'm a sucker for a good amnesia story, so I figured I should write one. (Also, the bathtub scene.)

Thanks for sending me the ask! I'm off to drop the ask in some other writers' boxes!

#fics #ao3 #self-recs #my faves

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vernon-s-whore · 2 years

Text

The Horangification of Us /ᐠ=ᆽ=ᐟ \

Hoshi x reader (no pronouns are mentioned but it is fem leaning)

warnings: no warnings really, there is nudity but not sex this is just something fluffy/non-sexual fun, there is discussion about body image and stretch marks, nothing serious but still adding it as a warning

genre: fluff-ish, slice of life, established relationship, reader is a poc because yes

a/n: i see a lot of smut where stretch marks are seen as sexy so i ended up writing some fluff where they're seen as cool

┍————-————-————-/ᐠ｡ꞈ｡ᐟ\————-————-————┑

"You should let me fill in on those," Hoshi remarks as you pull on a tank top, fixated on the white lines circling around your hips and waist, stark against the otherwise warm brown skin.

"Fill in on what?" You tug down the clothes to cover yourself fully.

"The stretch marks," he says, rising from the bed, "Will turn you into a tiger."

You scoff, "Really? Your tiger agenda has extended to me?"

He nods, completely nonplussed why you weren't taking him seriously, "I think you'll look really hot. And besides you already look hot with them, think of it as a temporary tattoo." He smiles endearingly, scrunching his eyes up.

"So what are you gonna do map out every stretch mark on my body?" You sit next to him, considering his idea.

"If you let me," he shrugs. "You can do it to me too if you want."

"Do you even have stretch marks?" you raise an eyebrow.

"Just because it gets covered up by makeup doesn't mean i don't have them," he chuckles lightly. "Where's your eyeliner, let's get started." He gets off the bed, rubbing his palms excitedly.

He rummages around your table, poking around in your bag before finding an eyeliner tucked between your books.

"You will buy me a new one after this," you demand, knowing your eyeliner will be finished by the time Soonyoung is done with his artistic explorations.

He nods, smiling because of your compliance.

"C'mon clothes off now quick!" he hurries you, tugging at the tank top and pyjamas you wore. You sit up, pulling off your tank top, tossing it onto your bedside table.

"Lie back down, i need to focus on this," he instructs, holding the eyeliner pen like it is a tattoo needle.

"You're weirdly invested in this," you giggle. "The horangification of us."

"Speak for yourself, i've been a tiger for years," he scoffs, pushing you back onto the mattress, running a palm down your side, tracing his scattered canvas. The stretch marks almost cradle you, spreading like shaky branches along your hip bones, crawling up your waist. He touches down the first stroke of the liner starting from your hip bone. He's not much of an artist but he likes what he is accomplishing, the black strokes blooming under the tip of his pen.

It tickles a little and you need a suppress your laughs because everytime his canvas is disturbed he gives you the cutest of frowns, trying and failing to look threatening.

"I'm almost done with the front you need to roll back now," he says, tracing the drying lines with almost reverent fingers.

"Do i look pretty?" You ask him on a whim, startled at the sincerity with which he is doing his work.

"The prettiest," he whispers, smiling. You sit up and give him a kiss on the lips before rolling over.

"You need to take off your pants," he says, like a professional tattoo artist, all business save for the hand which traces your spine down to the small of your back.

"Mhmm," you reply, shimmying out of your pyjamas, which he helps you tug off. You're slightly embarrassed being buck-naked in front of him but the whole setting feels far from sexual. Well, not too far but yeah.

He gets back to work, continuing his tracery of stripes along the small of your back, the dimples at the bottom of your spine down to the curve of your ass where most of the stretch marks end. He scrambles to the other side of the bed determined to finish his "art" quickly, tongue sticking between his teeth the way it did whenever he was concentrating hard on his work. You had a lot more stretch marks on this side, the linework getting more delicate the closer he got to your spine. Despite his unsteady hand, he perseveres, satisfied with how the stripes are coming out.

He blows on the liner to dry it up quickly and you flinch at the unexpected air.

"Sorry, sorry," he giggles. "It's a little wet."

You grimace at him, shaking your head against the pillow, "What the fuck did i agree to?"

"Sorryyy," Hoshi pinches you gently. "Turn over now."

You do as he asks, thoroughly enjoying the attention even if you won't admit it to his face and he finishes the final tracery within two minutes. Record time.

"Okay now open your legs," he says.

"What-" You snap your legs close on reflex.

"What? You said you would let me draw on you," he slips between your legs, opening them around his waist, settling in between.

"Ah i thought you would just do these," you point to your abdomen.

"I was looking forward to these though," he runs a hand along your thigh, stopping below your crotch. You feel a little stroke of heat spark in you but stamp it down.

"Do whatever you want," you sigh, throwing an arm over your face and lying back down, feeling the cold tip of your eyeliner trace on the insides of your thighs, his hands pulling and kneading, bringing you unexpected relief.

"Okay i'm done," he says after ten minutes. You have almost dozed off; he has to shake you awake to admire his work.

You look down, seeing the full tracery of black, truly an uncanny resemblance to tiger stripes. No wonder Soonyoung was being downright obsessive.

"Give it to me, i want us to match," you hold out your hand for the eyeliner pen.

"I knew you would come around," he leans in, kissing your temple, slipping the pen into your palm.

"Here," he strips himself of his own tank top. "I have them on my back, near the bottom."

He turns around and you see the pinkish lines clearly for the first time against his pale skin.

"You know, they actually look cool," you say. "You shouldn't cover it up with makeup, your fans would probably like them."

"They might jump to other, not favourable conclusions," he grimaces. "The industry isn't built for scars and growing pains."

You nod, considering his point of view too. He was right, the Kpop industry relied heavily on visuals. And scars and stretch marks simply don't have a place in there yet.

"I'm starting then," you tell him, shifting closer, tracing out all his marks. He really doesn't have too many.

"Any other places for your horangification?" You ask him, putting the cap on your pen.

He nods, tugging off his sweats, leaving him naked as well.

"Look here," he says, pointing to faint marks along his v-line. "I started getting these when i was working out, i think."

"That's actually highkey hot," you say biting the inside of your cheek to stop from giggling. Your hand visibly shakes, drawing so close to his crotch but you reach his navel quickly, where the last of the stretch marks are.

"We really match," he sighs, pulling you onto his lap, hands cupping the drawings on your hips. "I want photos."

You giggle, kissing him gently, "We can click photos."

"I want photos of us in front of the mirror," he says with a pout, staring up at you with the most adorable eyes.

"We can take as many photos as you want," you card your fingers through his hair, giving him another little kiss.

┕——————————————(..)(..) ∫∫——————————————-┙

#hoshi fluff #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #kwon soonyoung fluff #hoshi imagines #hoshi x reader #seventeen drabbles #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios

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milascenta · 10 months

Text

5th of July 22:12

I'm so glad you had a great birthday, it sounded so fun. I'm glad I could be a part of it just a little bit. Its so cool that song gets used in places, its sweet it made you think of me. Of course I would hand write you a note, you hand wrote me one on christmas, and that was very sweet of you too. You looked so beautiful for your birthday, both night and day. Omg those boots are so cool too, so goth and so cowboy. They do look comfy, maybe you were just born to be a goth cowgirl hehe. Of course you had to have a tiara, you're the birthday girl. I hope they presented it to you on like a small decorated pillow, and kneeling like "my liege" hehe. It makes me smile to know you have people around you that care for you like that, take you to your favourite places and get you top tier krispy kremes too haha. I've had the reece's pieces one, so fucking decadent haha. I need to try the biscoff one too. Maybe a crime that I haven't tried biscoff biscuits or the spread before 0.0 hahaha. Maybe I'm getting old but too much sugar and I can hear my teeth scream at me hahaha. I hope you had a good sleep afterwards.

I know you were feeling iffy about celebrating with everything that happened but I'm glad you still let yourself relax a little and have fun. He was celebrating with you, I hope you know that. He'll always be.

I'm sorry I haven't posted for a while. I've been pretty brain foggy and my sleep is just, oof haha. I'm trying to do little things to slowly change my habits. I'm not trying to force change but become more aware of my actions and habits and change them slowly. I read that forcing change can sometimes lead you more into your bad habits and thats definitely what I've been experiencing, then I just get more depressed because I feel like I've failed and continue a cycle. My sleep is just waking up feeling exhausted then not being able to do much and then oversleeping, which is getting in the way of things. But I've been making small changes like doing things when I'm a awake (surprise) but not caring what time that is, so I do my washing late in the afternoon and have is dry over night instead of during the day for example. Just trying not to beat myself up for existing really. I seem to do that a lot tbh. I do need to make my doctor appointments though, they're really important and I've been stupid with them. But I should have the first lined up soon. Streaming is really fun but if feel too brain foggy then it feels like a chore which sucks, but that will change with time. I thought I could stream like everyday but thats not realistic for me right now, doing it once a week when I feel good makes more sense. I still have heaps of ideas thats I've been writing down too. I have my vods saved so don't worry if they leave twitch. (the last one was like 13.4 gbs which is insane) I've been getting more things sorted out too like alerts. I'll continue with Cyberpunk, like I said it is one of my all time favourite games. I agree the music, the voice acting is superb, just all the sound design is so well done. How it conveys a constant dense dystopian futuristic feel is so well done. I'm also thinking tormenting myself with the only up rage game haha, sounds fun. And of course I'll return back to tentacle man soon.

Omg I love Beach House, Space Song is my favourite by them. I'm glad at least talking can make you feel a bit more comfort, I wish I could do more, but I'll keep up with this if helps.

"Breathe, release it all Come on now, I'll keep you warm"

#her

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lunarharp · 2 years

Text

a random draft where i was ramblingg about witch hat & art to myself for myself :)

rare time i feel like actually going off about the thing i’m having fun with right now in more detail ... but not on twt where strangers might try to discuss back at me lol sorry but that is scary. (not that you even have the room to soliloquy on there)

i love how there's characters for varying types of artists to relate to. people like agott who have been adept at drawing from a young age but feel overwhelmed by feelings of not meeting their expectations. and are driven mostly by feelings of wanting to prove their worth..

people like oru who have always been around the art but now are burnt out from commissions and wondering just what they're drawing for... and ones i relate to the most personally like coco and qifrey, who started drawing at an older age to the skilled people around them. like coco i'm so happy that i'm in the world of drawing(/magic) now and excited every day but also weighed down by fears that i'll never get to what i where i need to be after starting at this late stage and also whether i'm really cut out for this....

and like qifrey i only started drawing after a narrow escape from trauma... i started drawing to make sense of what my life is now, just as he was invited by beldaruit to become a witch because it was the only safe path he could take. (although i've not been through anything quite like what he's been through... ouagh)

and there’s tetia who just wants to draw to make other people feel happy about what she’s made, to have fun, and spread hope and happiness and gratitude. who feels so happy whenever someone thanks her for what she’s created - i understand now how it feels to want to thank them for thanking her and how making art, when you get a meaningful response, can be a truly warm communal type experience. but you do need that response - her overwhelming happiness when the dragon thing was happy and she said it was the first time she’d ever felt fully appreciated for her magic and it made her soooo happy. she had been drawing until then, but it was the last puzzle in place to make her realise the breadth of what magic can be for her.

and riche who is determined to not lose the “her”-ness from her art, doesn’t want to learn new techniques and become more regular and orthodox in style if it means she feels she’s losing something... i get that!!! precious autistic-coded child... the ways we feel about our art differ depending on our own mental landscapes. hahhhh... shirahama said she began this series because she was having a conversation with artist friends about how it feels like drawing just really is magic. i mean..... it is.

i think writing feels like magic too, and i’m glad i can do both now. any creation is total magic. i’ve drawn scenes that were in my head and that’s let other people see them and if i can trust their comments about it, has moved them in some way or at least let them imagine a scene or a situation that they wouldn’t have imagined otherwise. but it’s different from just telling someone about it. when you draw something, or write something it really exists now - outside of you. THAT’S SO WEIRD.

i liked drawing a lot of takarazuka things (before i realised i got kind of burnt out drawing all this transcore stuff that people were not exactly responding to because it’s so niche and weird lmao) but drawing fanart for something that also ONLY exists in art is so special. it’s not acted by real people. like.. they’re just little people that someone drew and now i draw them too. total magic. and she gets up and draws them every day the same as me...

i love that a manga isn’t just art, it’s storytelling too. doing both writing and drawing at the same time - it feels like such a perfect and fascinating combination of skills and facets of creation. i’m better at writing than drawing, so i don’t feel like i can express my original stories well enough in comic form just yet. but i might just get there.

the world is so confusing and overwhelming and terrible every day. only creation is something i can understand. sometimes i can’t understand it - when i feel REALLY bad, it’s definitely like, what’s the point. and i wish i had more things to experience at present than just creation - i want to be outside and just feel and be as well as create. and at some point i’ll definitely stop posting my creations online. but creating has become something that i don’t need to understand the reason for it - so at those times when i wonder what the real point to any of this is.... lately, i usually still create anyway. just as you’d still breathe and sleep even though you’re hurt and confused by the horrors of the world. it’s becoming how i express myself. i find myself drawing pretty much every day because it’s part of how i make sense of shit now and i naturally want to do it. not doing it is painful.

i hope this magic continues. i hope it becomes far more wonderful than i can even imagine from here.

and i won't lose.

#things really are different if you start drawing in your mid/late 20s or onwards.#you haven't developed your idea of yourself as an 'artist' at the time your brain was developing your identity.#but reading something that is basically saying- it's not too late and you have your own magic that only youan do... is so heartening.#also the manga is very gay. it's not THAT shockingly original and fascinating a story- but like...#i just don't know many ongoing fun series with interesting lovable characters where there are also major representations #for disability race queerness etc.#esp if tetia is trans. shirahama-sensei you can tell me...#MOSTLY IM LOSING MY MIND AT WHERE THE SERIES IS GOING LIKE I AM SCARED. my theories are dark and i fear for qifrey SOMEONE HELP HIMMM..#ONCE AGAIN LET SOMEONE HLEP YOU YOU QUESTIONABLE AND TRAGIC GAY LITTLE SKIRT MAN #i hate that i had to just let my fic be so short. I CANT WRITE ANY MORE RIGHT NOW...i would have to make up so much plot stuff #bc orufrey CANNT happen they cant freaking KISS until so much is sorted out between them which requires the plot moving forward and..#AUGHHH !!!! sensei please just tell me what happens please please please please please please please please please #the next chapter looks hella plot-ful but STILL..it's going to take YEARS..i just want to know if qifrey IS GOING TO SURVIVE THIS SHIT !!!!#if the brimhats [redacted] then he'll [redacted] and THEN WHAT IF [redacted] has to [redacted] I FEEL LIKE SENSEI'LL DO THAT !!! SCARED #SURELLLY she'll have [redacted] have to [redacted] but i dont think shed go as far as [redacted] ??????#i plan to go to japan next year if possible anyway but what if it's too early for an anime-fuelled merch section in animate. please #this is like the first new and non-zuka thing i've been hyperfixated on for years. i need official qifrey and oru items. I need the items #once again i feel weird putting my personal feelings and theories on the internet to an audience of nobody but once again we will die.#am i going to be on my deathbed thinking 'oh i shouldn't have happily gone off about witch hat on tumblr that time how embarrassing' no.#do you know how worthwhile it is to enjoy something. and to basically avoid other fanworks for the most part so you're just surrounded #by your own pure and enjoyable feelings.#i actually went to a local queer art place yesterday and like. man i was very different to them but #there are people somewhat like me out there huh. somewhere. i'm going to make zines and art and express my world. even if just a bit.#literally why would you priv reblog something like this i think there is something wrong with you? i feel better about myself now #i will find the ones like me not the ones like you <3

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koro-is-caffeinated · 2 years

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You know I'm always down for oc lore. Please, introduce Casper and Ed

YES!!! I knew you'd pull through for me :'D

Oh boy where do I even start. Okay so I invented these two guys because I got so sick of how bad a lot of the gay romances I was reading are. A lot of them were really fetishy and gross and were written by straight women, and the ones that weren't were just not at all my style, so I decided to make two ocs to write romance stories about, in the way I LIKE! So they're both transgender gay men, Casper is Demisexual, too.

Their full names are Casper Othello and Edmund Arcadia.

I chose those names totally at random, I just like the sound of them lmao

Thing is though, is that Eddie is a vampire. He's roughly 400 or so years old, and was turned into a vampire in his early 40's, so he still has the mind and body of a 40 year old, although he still looks pretty damn good for that age. He was born in Romania and spent many of his early vampiric years roaming Europe and participating in a few revolutions here and there, before settling in America in 1969 (nice).

Casper is a human, in his mid thirties. He works at a pharmacy where he met Eddie, although, unknowingly, he did meet Ed once before a long time ago in the late 90's or early 2000's at a diner in California. Eddie was attracted to Casper from the start, but didn't know how to express it, since he hadn't fallen in love since he was a human. It took Casper a while longer to realize he had romantic feelings for Ed, and even longer to agree to go on a date with him.

It was on this first date that Casper would discover up close and personal that Eddie was a vampire. He always just thought he was a melodramatic old fashioned weirdo with an affinity for history, but no, he was an immortal being all along. Casper was kind of blasted on red wine at the time so he let Eddie drink his blood without much of a fight, despite being horrified of bleeding and not that into hickeys. He really warmed up to the whole routine of feeding Eddie quick, though.

It should also be noted that in this universe, vampires make a decision whether to turn you into a vampire or just to drink your blood, so Eddie gets fed monthly or sometimes weekly, and Casper stays human. Vampires don't burn in the sun either but are naturally nocturnal and very averse to sunlight, it hurts their eyes and skin. The garlic thing is a myth as well, spread by vampires to get humans to eat more garlic since it is a natural anticoagulant. This works out well for Casper, who loves garlic a little too much.

Casper is an optimistic, fun personality. He's got a lot of charisma and sass, and can be just a tad bratty at times, but he's sweet and charming although sometimes cowardly. Sometimes he's afraid of Ed, and vampires in general, but he's grown a liking to them after being introduced to Ed's various vampiric friends in their local city of Denver. He's been known to be a bit of a party animal and he's learning to play billiards. His most prominent features are his medium length curly hair with frosted tips, the colorful sunglasses he always wears, his bright fashion sense, wide doe eyes, and the fact that he's ABSOLUTELY JACKED.

Eddie is more of a stoic type. He's quiet, reserved, sort of sticks to himself and isn't that talkative. He's also noticeably grim and has an unusual, threatening air about him. That all changes around Casper, of course. Then, he's a huge flirt who disguises his flirts in threats. He does like to remind Casper that he could drain the life from him at any time he wants, just to tease him a little. He has no actual intentions of killing Casper, he really does love him and he feels bad when he hurts him too much. His most striking features are his towering height, paper-white skin, sad green eyes, gaunt physique, and long straight pitch black hair that goes almost as far as his waist.

Sooooo yeah. There's a lot more to them than that. But yeah. Idk why but I feel the need to mention that they like to watch Columbo together :')

I adore them so much!! Thanks for letting me ramble <3

#I love my gay idiots so much #Idk why I said idiots. Theyre both very smart #Idk I guess they just become stupid around eachother #I mostly said that I was doing a gay romance in my style but I also did it to bring some life to the vampire genre since most of it sucks #pun intended #Thank you thank you thank you for letting me go off about my oc stuff again 😭😭 I really appreciate it a lot #I hope you like these bozos as much as Argyle <3 #Also i didnt proofread this so sorry if there are typos

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ellowynbeimler · 4 months

Text

Dec 29

Dear Dad,

I was kinda right when I said that I would stay up past midnight and then some because I did, and it was so late that it was early.

I crawled back up to the tippy top of the temple just to watch everything, even though it was super cold for a while. And it was super cool. I saw so much stuff and so many people. The party did wind down around dawn, but that's to be expected. The sunrise was magnificent, too. Like, crazy beautiful. I don't know if I've ever seen one like it.

Maybe just from this side of wakefulness.

I would have slept all day, but Riley roused the rest of us when she woke after what felt like not even close to enough sleep to have us help out with cleaning up the temple after it all. And it was really trashed after everything. Luckily, we weren't the only ones there. You know what they say about many hands.

It did take less time than I thought it would take a lot less time. There was still some stuff that was absolutely trashed. Still, I think that stuff like scrubbing the walls would wait for another day anyway, so as long as we're careful, I'll be able to avoid having to help too much more.

I went up for the rest of the letters this morning. I felt a little bad about leaving them all where anyone could read them, like leaving a diary out, but when I went up to get them today, they were all gone. They must have gotten blown away by the wind. Which really doesn't help how I feel about it cause that means they're spread all over the place, but they're probably going to land in puddles and stuff and be ruined before anyone can read them, so it's okay.

Or, not okay, because of littering, but at least fewer people see what I'm writing you.

I probably shouldn't have left them up here. There's an actual altar somewhere downstairs that would have been a better place to go them, but what's done is done.

I brought the others up with me, too. Even though it was a lot to go up and down like 4 times in two days, it was still super cool. I thought that even though it wasn't as cool without all the people dancing and the fire and all the stuff to see last night, they would probably think it was cool, and they did. They actually thought it was as cool as I did. Well, not Riley, 'cause she thought that we shouldn't be crawling around on the roof, but I saw how she looked at everything, so I think she also thought it was cool and wanted to see everything.

I was glad to get to as well. But I think she just felt that she wasn't able to, or rather, allowed to, say that she also thought it was very, very cool.

We also talked about when we're going to leave here. I think we're all getting cabin fever a little bit, even if it's the whole town and not just one room that we're stuck in, but it's still tiny compared to how much room we'd had to roam in previously.

We're probably not going to leave until sometime in January. However, Riley thinks we can help a little more at the temple, even if they don't need it. Reese and Zunair can probably make a little extra money to get more rations and stuff for our future travels. We aren't that bad off, except that it's always cold, and I lost my coat, so we have to replace it so I don't freeze to death because that wouldn't be very fun, but it is what it is. I mean, it's not like the worst way to go, but I'd rather not die that way, or at all, anytime soon. I'd much rather be home in our lovely, warm apartment and be able to take a hot shower without having to heat the water myself.

Also, I got to overhear more of Ruley and Willow talking. I think they're starting something, or not starting something? It's a little hard to tell, and it's like they were talking circles around whatever it was that they actually wanted to talk about, which is part of why I think it might be Willow's crush because she just wanted to focus on Riley making the right choice for her and being happy. Still, it did seem like a lot more was going on there.

Maybe I'll ask Willow about it later.

Or Riley, but I feel she won't want to talk about it at all, let alone with me.

Grace thinks I should just leave them be. They don't need to worry about people eavesdropping on them with everything else they and we have to deal with. But We'll find out for sure later.

Because I'm going to ask Willow, I don't know if I made that clear.

I'm going now. I should probably get to help with something.

Love, Jack

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warmblanketwhump · 2 years

Note

Hi! I don’t know if you’re accepting asks so feel free to ignore this until you are, but I was wondering if you could do something like “caretaker turns whumpee”

For example: whumpee has been pretty sick/injured for a few days and caretaker has been working their hardest to take care of whumpee, sacrificing their own bodily needs and maybe whumpee is kinda cheeky so they milk their ailment not realizing it’s hurting caretaker and i’m sure you can figure out what happens next…. sorry if this is hyper-specific but I think it’d be a cute prompt. No pressure to write it tho! Have a great day!

hello hello anon! as you can see, i do accept requests (and thank you so much for being patient with me 😭) this was definitely a super original prompt and I had a lot of fun writing it - thanks for sending it in!

-------

"B? Can you get me a glass of water?" B is just dozing off in the chair over in the corner of the room. A makes sure to lower their voice to a pathetic, cracked whisper, and lets out a couple of tiny coughs for good measure.

"Coming right up." B gives a small, tired smile, and slowly pulls themselves from the chair and heads downstairs to get A their drink.

A couldn't help the small smile that spreads across their face. B was just so...eager, so willing, that they couldn't help but take advantage of it. In the initial days of their flu, B had been overwhelmed with concern, barely leaving A's bedside as they thrashed with fever and nearly coughed out a lung.

During those days, B had done everything for them. Lifted a spoon to their cracked lips to ease warm broth through it. Brushed their sweat-soaked hair off their forehead and laid a cool cloth across their fevered brow. Soothed them when they woke sobbing from swirling, haunting nightmares.

In the past couple of days, A had felt their strength slowly coming back to them. Sure, they could probably have gotten their own water. Or made their own lunch. Or gotten up to get that extra blanket. But B was just....there. So why would they do anything when B had things taken care of?

"Here you go," B says, quickly stifling a cough in their elbow before handing A the glass of cold water - two ice cubes, just like they always liked it. "Anything else you need?"

Now that they mention it, A can remember a book on the downstairs coffee table that they'd been meaning to read...

But as they look up and meet B's eyes, the request dies on their lips. A sheen of sweat glows on B's drawn face, and they're leaning heavily on A's bed, like they barely can hold themselves upright. They sniffle weakly and rub their nose with the edge of their sleeve, and A can see that their eyes are red and watery.

A swallows hard. "....I'm okay. Thanks, though."

B nods and sinks down to sit on A's bed wordlessly, almost like they're in a daze. Their hair looks limp and unwashed, and the old sweatshirt hanging on their slumped shoulders is the same one they've been wearing for days.

A props themselves up on one elbow. "B? You feeling okay?"

"Hmm?" B seems to snap out of it, at attention again. "What do you need?"

Guilt floods the pit of A's stomach. Here they were, milking B's kindness for all it was worth, and they hadn't even noticed the toll it was taking. They're probably getting my flu, then, too.

"I...don't need anything. You...you want to lay down here for a minute?" A awkwardly pats the covers next to them. "You look like you could use a rest."

Either B doesn't notice or they don't care, because they just nod and stiffly lower themselves onto the bed, right on top of the covers. They wrap their arms around themselves, as if fighting off a chill, and let their eyes slip closed. "Let me know if you need anything," they mumble, already half-conscious.

A leans forward and grabs an extra blanket from the foot of the bed, draping it over B's curled-up form and tucking it around them. B blinks their eyes open and smiles up at A.

A throws a half-smile back at them and brushes a lock of hair off B's forehead. "I don't need a thing. Let me take care of you for a while."

#sickfic prompt #hurt comfort prompt #whump prompt #yes A lowkey kinda sucks in this #but i picture them as the kind of jokey friend that always takes the joke too far #they never mean any harm but sometimes they're just that dumb #anyway that's my backstory for this nameless character lol XD

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emoprincey · 2 years

Note

Maybe 10 and 44 with Logince, from the fanfic trope prompts?

10 - Airport/Travel au

44 - Flowers of Romance

Thanks for the ask!! This was fun to write! I have no idea what the word count is because I wrote this on my phone

There were a lot of things Roman loved about being a pilot. He got to travel all over the world, visiting places he'd dreamed of visiting for years- though, his stops were usually brief, and he spent more time resting for the next flight than sightseeing. And the flying itself was magical. Roman felt truly at home in the sky, the exhilaration of being thousands of feet above the ground with landscapes of clouds stretching out below him never quite wearing off.

But none of that compared to how his heart would flutter when his schedule aligned just right, and he caught a glimpse of a familiar figure across the airport. Neatly styled brown hair that was never out of place, square glasses that Roman always teased him about but secretly thought they made him look cute.

When he saw Logan standing by the large airport windows where the sunlight brought out the natural caramel streaks in his hair, looking down at his phone, Roman didn't hesitate to nip into the nearest duty free and buy a bouquet of flowers.

"Hey, Logan!" Roman called out as he approached.

Logan looked up from his phone, his face melting into a soft smile as he met Roman's eyes.

"Here, um..." Roman held the bouquet out to Logan, suddenly feeling shy under the gaze of those gorgeous deep blue eyes. As Logan took the flowers, looking down at them with an expression of pure admiration, Roman felt his heart skip a beat. "I know you can't keep them for long, but I wanted to give you something as beautiful as you are."

Logan let out a slightly breathless chuckle, a light blush spreading across his cheeks as he glanced up at Roman. "Thank you, Roman. They're wonderful."

The sight stole Roman's breath for a moment, a wave of warmth flooding his chest. "So, do you have time for dinner tonight?"

Logan sighed, holding the bouquet to his chest. "I'm afraid not, I have an early flight in the morning."

"Ah, right." Roman managed a smile which probably looked as brittle as the stems of the flowers Logan was clutching. He shouldn’t be disappointed - this was just how things were. Neither of them had time for a relationship, but they caught a few dates together where they could, and Roman treasured those.

"I'll see you soon," Logan promised, giving him a warm smile. And of all the sights Roman had seen in his travels around the world, Logan's smile was unparalleled in beauty. "Thanks again for the flowers."

After a moment of hesitation, he pressed a quick kiss to Roman's cheek before he turned away.

Roman lift a hand to his cheek, a giddy smile taking over his face as he watched Logan disappear into the crowd. Every time he saw Logan, his head was left spinning, but it wasn't love. It couldn't be.

It couldn't be love because their schedules were so busy they could hardly ever spend time together.

It couldn't be love because at any given moment the two of them were probably hundreds of miles away from each other.

It couldn't be love because nothing between them would be able to last.

It couldn't be love, but Roman had just given Logan a bouquet of red roses.

#sanders sides #roman sanders #logan sanders #logince #ts logan #ts roman #drabble

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