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beebopboom · 6 months

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something something about how they created a silly little dance - which angels are not meant to do

because Aziraphale doesn’t know how to ask for forgiveness - angels are meant to give out forgiveness not receive it

#especially from demons #idk if this makes sense #it’s almost 3am #and i need sleep #there must be something i can do for you #the magic show wasn’t enough so crowley makes him do the dance #good omens #good omens 2 #good ineffable omens #aziraphale #crowley #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #ineffable spouses #apology dance

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mojofun · 9 months

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Incorrect Merthur Quotes

Uther: *looking at Merlin* For the crimes of Magic and Treason, you will be burnt at the stake!

Arthur, shouting: He’s already smoking hot

Merlin: Sir, please uncuff me. I need to high five my boyfriend

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oriiduckko · 2 years

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Sunny boy doodle ⛅️

Got bored so I drew my favorite boy hh

#i would like to see him scream a lot from now on #I’m going insane #it’s almost 3AM #ahhaa #love my sundrop boy #//#mii artz #fnaf #fnaf sb #security breach #sundrop

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inoreuct · 6 months

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Little headcanon/tidbit time :D it takes a while for him to be comfortable doing so, but whenever sanji gets nightmares now he shuffles over to zoros bunk and climbs in. He tries not to wake Zoro but always fails, zoro just nuzzles his face in Sanjis hair and holds him close until he stops trembling <3 zoro is reluctant to seek the same sort of comfort for his own nightmares no matter how desperately he wants it, until one night hes so tired he just gives up and crawls under the blankets next to the cook, from then on it's a regular occurrence

zoro is used to waking up with someone crawling into his bed; a very specific blond, gangly someone with terrifyingly sharp elbows and ginger hands, trying to fit the both of them in a bunk not made for two. he is used to waking up to sanji’s shaking shoulders. he is used to pulling the cook to his chest, whispering sweet nothings into his hair, running a soothing palm up and down his spine until he’s calmed down from whatever had come for him when he’d closed his eyes. he is used to draping an arm around sanji’s waist and drifting off as the cook wraps lithe arms across his back and tosses a leg over his hip, a cold nose shoved into the crook of his neck, figuring out how their bodies fit together as if they don’t already know.

in the beginning, zoro hadn’t understood why sanji had chosen him of all people; now he’s just grateful for the privilege. he enjoys providing that sense of safety. he likes being the protector, the one who can pick up the slack when his nakama are tired, and sanji is much, much more than just nakama to him.

but right now his blood is thrumming electric with adrenaline and he can feel every single beat of his heart through his entire body, too fast and too hard and too loud in his ears. every time this happens he talks himself down, wraps his forearms low over his gut and curls up, breathes through it until it no longer feels like he’s about to shatter out of his skin. he’s supposed to be the strong one. the safe haven.

but he’s tired. he’s so, so tired, and sanji is just two bunks away, and zoro wants. he wants, desperately, and maybe he’s so tired that he just doesn’t care anymore—

because he gets up quietly, his fingertips numb, avoiding the creaky plank that he knows is there as he creeps over to sanji’s bed and sits at the edge of the mattress. his boyfriend is sound asleep, face smooth and devoid of worry. he should go back; there really is no reason to—

“m’rimo?” sanji squints up at him, raising a hand to scrub over his face, and zoro goes still like it would make him invisible. it doesn’t work, of course, and the cook seems to understand immediately, tugging the blanket out from under zoro’s weight and lifting the corner. “c’mere.”

and who is zoro not to listen? he crawls beneath the blanket, squeezing himself small so that they can both fit. he isn't the lightest; he doubts sanji would be comfortable with zoro laying on top of him, but the cook puts a stop to that by pressing a hand to the back of zoro's neck and pulling him down. “i said come here," sanji grumbles, wiggling until zoro is settled on his chest. “nightmare?”

“mm,” zoro mumbles, already a bit too gone to deny it. he's warm, he's safe, sanji's slender fingers are carding through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp and it might just be the best thing in the world right now. the exhaustion slams into him like a battering ram and punches the buzzing, frantic dance straight out from under his skin; he lets himself capsize, sinking down, down, down into the darkness, but he is present enough to feel it when sanji presses a soft kiss to his forehead.

he slides his hands up, palms spread on either side of sanji’s ribs; laying like this zoro can hear every beat of his heart, feel it against his temple and cheekbone, feel the rise and fall of his lover’s lungs, soothing as the rocking of the sea. “go to sleep,” sanji breathes, quiet; the words are pressed into his hair and they wrap him in a gossamer veil of comfort, fragile in the velvet darkness of the quarters they share.

he lets his eyes slip shut and feels the last of the tension drain out of him from the way sanji kneads gently at his nape, knees coming up to bracket zoro’s waist. the cook’s sleep shirt is soft beneath his cheek; one of zoro’s old ones, he suddenly remembers, that he’d worn faded and threadbare and had found mysteriously missing from his closet. sanji smells good, like clean things and warmth and the faint milky-sweet scent of his soap on his skin, and zoro nuzzles into his chest as familiar hands tuck under his arms to press grounding between his shoulder blades.

he falls asleep. sanji’s heartbeat is the only thing he knows.

#zosan #one piece zosan #op zosan #zoro x sanji #roronoa zoro #zoro #one piece zoro #black leg sanji #one piece sanji #one piece #ino’s ask box #it’s almost 3am #the first draft of this post deleted itself i almost screamed #I WAS SUPPOSED TO BE ASLEEP AN HOUR AGO #AND I HAVE AN EXAM TMR UGH #hungry tho. looking forward to breakfast already hehehehe

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tiny-crecher · 11 months

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The genloss surgery scene from Charlie’s perspective, inspired by this post I made.

HEAVY HEAVY HEAVY gore warning like. seriously.

you can also read it on ao3

It was the smell of antiseptic that hit him first.

Charlie’s mind was fuzzy. His body felt heavy. And cold. Very cold. He didn’t have the strength to open his eyes yet, but he could tell he was lying flat on… something. It wasn’t very comfortable.

The second thing Charlie was aware of were voices. Two of them, one directly to his left, one a little father and more artificial-sounding. A recording, perhaps?

He shifted his head, letting a sliver of light seep through his eyelids. It was dim and greenish and awful. He could vaguely see movement from the left.

A surgical glove snapped. Charlie’s eyes shot open.

He found himself in what appeared to be a hospital room, a dingy fluorescent light casting a yellow-green hue over everything. He was in an old hospital gown, with a pale blue sheet covering the majority of his body.

It was then that he realized he was laid out on an operating table.

Charlie looked up at his surgeon.

He’d seen that damned mask before.

The surgeon themself seemed rather young. Maybe a teen still? They were at least younger than Charlie.

“I don’t want to do this… oh god.”

It was when they started pulling the sheet back to expose Charlie’s bare stomach that he started to fully grasp the situation.

The kid turned to their left and started rummaging through a box of surgical tools.

Oh fuck.

“I’m so sorry. I need to- I need to live. You don’t understand I need to live.”

Charlie knew the game. He knew that no one won. He knew that he’d been though it before. He knew he hadn’t been the first. Clearly he hadn’t been the last, either. But this kid… maybe they could be. Maybe they could be the one to stop this cycle.

So Charlie came to a conclusion. He had to endure whatever torment that awaited him in order to give this teen a fighting chance.

A pair of rusted scissors glinted in the light.

Charlie braced.

The teen plunged the scissors into his abdomen, and Charlie screamed. The pain was immediate, a searing fire starting from his center and rippling outwards in waves upon waves of torment. Every part of him screeched in protest and agony as the scissors dug even deeper, tearing upwards through flesh and muscle and sinew. His vision blurred, the room beginning to swirl into a nightmarish, distorted haze. He was vaguely aware of the sweat that was clinging to him, starting to mix with the tears that were streaming down his face.

This needs to happen.

And it kept fucking going.

Fingers dug into his skin and began to pull, shoving aside skin and fat until Charlie had a wonderful view of his entire digestive tract. The teen’s hands dove even deeper, starting to wrap around his intestines and slowly stringing them out.

This needs to happen.

Charlie convulsed, crying out with each twist and tug. He could feel blood beginning to drip down his hands from where his fingernails were digging into his palms. His body was but a stage for this twisted performance.

This needs to happen.

His breaths were ragged, each one hurting more than the last as his heaving chest jostled his torn open stomach. Bolts of anguish radiated out from his core as the teen continued to just dig, shooting tendrils of pain through his veins and into every nerve in his body. The world was hazy and fragmented, blurring and unblurring at a rapidfire pace. The smell of antiseptic had been washed away with the scent of his own blood, metallic and nauseating.

This needs to happen. This needs to happen. This needs to happen.

Charlie shrieked and spasmed as something was ripped from him. His screams echoed against the tiled walls of the room, a desperate plea for release that only fell on deaf ears. Time itself was beginning to warp, stretching into a torturous eternity. Every fiber of his being cried out for mercy. But he knew that none would come.

“What is- what is this?”

Charlie managed to focus his eyes for a brief second on what the teen was holding. It took him a bit to actually understand what he was seeing, with his mind so fogged with pain and the object completely drenched in his own blood, but after a moment he realized:

It was a game piece, from Mousetrap. It was the missing piece of a puzzle.

Charlie would’ve sighed with relief if he could actually breathe. They got the piece. He had no idea how the fuck it got inside of him, and frankly he didn’t really want to, but they got it. They had a chance. That made it all worth it.

The kid had what they needed. But of course, they didn’t know that. So onwards they went, continuing their merciless work of ravaging through Charlie’s torso, gutting him for all the world the see. Time lost its meaning. His body was nothing but a vessel for agony. But he had to hold onto that hope. He had to hope this kid, whoever they were, would be the one to break the cycle. He just had to.

He just fucking had to.

#i’ll put this on ao3 tomorrow #uhm #yeah #it’s almost 3am #anyways like and reblog <3 #tw gore #genloss #generation loss #gl!ranboo #gl!slimecicle #gl!charlie #slimecicle #ranboo #ranboolive #genloss fanfic #genloss fanfiction #fanfiction #writing

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goldensunset · 6 months

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girls when kingdom hearts union cross

#it’s almost 3am

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wheredafandomat · 1 year

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For Better or For Worse

Chapter 1 Next Chapter Series masterlist

Loki x female reader

18+ | this fic will contain adult themes, smut, swearing, angst - I’ll continue to update. Please be aware that there may be triggering themes in future e.g. loss of child. Please do not proceed if you may be triggered.

“Well bloody get on with it.” Loki cursed, his voice echoing through the grand room as he ran his fingers through his hair. There were few things Loki disliked, one of them being having to spend time with his family, more so his brother considering that now he’d never have to see his his father again. Gently patting Lokis shoulder, Rose looked pointedly at Miss Walters who was yet to open the sealed document sitting in front of her.

“Apologies but I’m just waiting for one more person.” She answered, Lokis brows furrowing in confusion as she spoke.

“One more person? What? We’re all the old fools ever known.” Loki scoffed.

“Loki.” Frigga interjected.

“Have I lied?” Loki shrugged.

“Loki.” Thor spoke warningly as Loki continued to ramble.

“Unfortunately I cannot begin as there is another name here.” Miss Walters cut in, the room falling silent.

“Who’s?” Loki ventured.

“Oh apologies for my tardiness.” You spoke, sauntering into the room as Loki stiffened, his jaw clenching.

“Oh you’ve got to be joking.” He murmured.

“Thank you Miss Walters” you smiled at the solicitor before turning to Frigga and making your way to her “Frigga” you beamed, kissing each others cheeks before your attention was stolen by Thor standing to his feet with open arms. Practically running, you jumped into his embrace before kissing his cheek, unaware of Lokis glaring. “Thorr.” You grinned as he put you down before you finally, finally acknowledged Loki. “Loki” you spoke venomously as if the name burned to recall “and you must be his new bed warmer.” You smiled at the woman sitting next to him.

“Excuse me?” Loki spoke for her.

“I’m joking, it’s all in jest” you lied, holding your hand out to her “lovely to meet you.”

“And you are?” She questioned, looking you up and down.

“No one.” Loki answered for you at the same time as you said “his wife. Well, ex wife” you explained “we didn’t quite work out, you see, Loki has a little problem in the bedroom department and he just left me completely unsatisfied and then there’s the greasy hair and the—”

“Alright that’s enough” Loki cut in harshly before quieting his tone “my mothers present y/n and that was one time, only the once.”

“Apologies.” You smiled curtly before taking your seat for the reading of the Will.

You mainly focused on your new manicure as the Will was read considering you didn’t nor were you expecting to hear your name. You assumed anything you would have been left was taken out after the divorce, although, that wouldn’t explain why your name was still there. You focused harder on your nails as Lokis apparent girlfriend rubbed his shoulder reassuringly, occasionally pecking his cheek whenever another asset was left to Thor. You kept trying to keep focus on the expensive art decorating your nails but your eyes kept venturing to Loki. You didn’t know what to expect considering you hadn’t seen him in well over a year but it wasn’t this. He looked eerily the same, it hurt even more that he did. Last night you found yourself almost praying that he looked different, maybe shorter hair, maybe his style had changed, maybe he just carried himself differently but no, no, this was the same Loki, the one you fell in love with, the one you married, the one you lost.

“My final asset, being my estate, is to be left to y/n y/l/n.” Miss Walters read, instantly catching your attention as your eyes flew up to hers.

“W-what?” Loki questioned, outraged as he stood to his feet before turning towards Frigga and Thor. “Mother? Surely he couldn’t have made that Will with sound mind, there must be a way to contest it.” He insisted.

“I’m afraid not.” Miss Walters answered for Frigga.

“This must be a mistake, she” Loki began, pointing at you “she has no claim to this house or this family for that matter.” He continued to argue, mostly to himself as you mouthed a wow before rolling your eyes, trying to hide your own shock. This was the last thing you expected.

After a while, Miss Walters began packing her things to leave whilst you stood and made your way to Frigga who was being very quiet considering everyone else present were all speaking. Pulling up a chair next to her, you reached into your bag.

“I know it’s nothing” you began, handing her a velvet box which she took gratefully, recognising the design before you hugged her properly. “but I thought you’d want it.” You spoke into her shoulder.

“Thank you dear.” She sniffled.

“I am so, so sorry for your loss and I’m sorry I couldn’t come sooner.”

“You’re here now. I’ve missed you.” She answered.

“I’ve missed you too.” You agreed. “And Frigga, I don’t plan on selling the estate, don’t feel you need to leave you can stay here.”

“She’s a bitch.” Rose chimed in as Loki watched your interaction with Frigga.

“Mhm.” He hummed in reply, unable to look away from you.

“Let’s go Loki.” Rose insisted, standing infront of him and blocking his view of you.

Once everyone had dispersed, you took it upon yourself to venture up to the east wing where you used to be when you were with Loki. You were unsure how it looked now and whether or not it had changed. You walked up the stairs, each step reminding you of a different memory before you turned down the hallway to the east wing. You smiled as you saw your old bedroom door, a little bit of paint scratched off near the top from when you banged a piece of furniture against it when you moved in. You opened the door, eyes scanning the room as you gasped a little, surprised that it practically looked untouched, the ghost of your memories still haunting the place. You stepped inside, fingers running over the dusty dressing table as your eyes continued scanning the room. When they landed on a photo album, you picked it up before taking your seat on the bed and flicking through the pages. Pictures of you and Loki filled each page almost bringing a tear to your eye as you ran your thumb over one of the glossy pieces of paper. You both looked so happy, you don’t remember the last time you were happy, truly happy.

You’re not sure when you laid down or when your eyes fell closed but the last thing you remembered was sitting on the same bed as you begged Loki not to go, not to leave and the heartbreak and betrayal that followed when he did go. Some memories were better left forgotten.

This gif has nothing to do with the fic it’s just funny to me 😂 - let me know what you’re thinkinggg, I’ve got a couple ideas for some fics so I think I’ll write some first chapters then whichever one gains a lil traction I’ll continue instead of just boring you all with something self indulgent 😂💓

@mischief2sarawr @mcufan72 @lokisgoodgirl @lokiprompts @mochie85 @vickie5446 @fictive-sl0th @peaches1958

#it’s almost 3am #loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki fanfic #loki (marvel)#oc fiction #tom hiddelston loki #loki fanfiction #loki x y/n #loki x you #loki angst #loki marvel

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a-little-unsteddie · 4 months

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Early Mornings

written for @steddiemicrofic

prompt: hole || word count: 404 || rating: t || cw: first meetings, pre-steddie, uhh. zombies?

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The early hours in the mornings were usually quiet, a blissful reprieve from the usual hustle and bustle of the mid-morning rush. Steve loved working the opening, even if his days more often than not started at four in the morning. It was worth it to set up the displays and watch as the sky and, eventually the city, wake up.

Steve was sure that there was nothing more peaceful than his bakery at 5:37am, as he prepared the displays with whatever baked goods he was going to serve for the rest of the day. Steve hummed and swayed along to the quiet indie music playing through the bakery’s speakers, zoning out into the task. He was so focused on setting up the cups filled with donut holes that he didn’t notice someone standing at the door for several seconds.

It wasn’t until the person knocked frantically against the glass that Steve whipped around, prepared to be as bitchy as he needed to be to get the person to fuck off, because the bakery didn’t open for another 15 minutes. What greeted him was the sight of a tall, handsome man, looking desperate as he kept glancing behind him apprehensively.

“Let me in, please!” the strangers muffled voice came through the doors. Steve huffed and walked over to the door, glaring at him.

“We don’t open for another fifteen minutes,” he snapped, pointing at the hours that were printed on the door, right in front of where the man was standing.

“Please! I don’t know what’s wrong with them!” the stranger exclaimed, pulling harshly on the door as he looked over his shoulder in fear.

Steve rolled his eyes, figuring the man was being dramatic, and looked behind him. Something like dread started to fill his gut as he watched a horde of people stumbling towards the stranger. At first, he thought the man was being dramatic, but upon closer inspection, Steve noticed that one of the—people?—had a missing lower jaw.

Steve fumbled with the lock as he forced himself into motion, opening the door, allowing the stranger inside before slamming the door and locking it again.

“What the fuck?” Steve shivered, one of them had a hole through the center of their chest, and he was able to see right through it.

“Uh- I’m Eddie,” the man spoke, staring in horror as whatever was following him started slamming against the door.

“Uh.. Steve.”

#this was meant to be a baker!steve with rockstar!eddie #and turned into this?#zombie apocalypse #steve harrington #eddie munson #pre steddie #first meetings #steddie microfic #ignore any grammar mistakes #it’s almost 3am #and i wrote this on a whim

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lovedeathandyautja · 5 months

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