#this may or may not happen in the fic. maybe. maybe not. who knows

[steviewashere]

I am itching to write a frat boy Steve Harrington fic. Definitely modern day, no upside down, no supernatural elements. But not one where he desperately wants to leave it or he's being shunned by the other guys or where he feels like he doesn't fit in. Just one where he does stupid shit because it's funny to him.

He's got an estranged relationship with Tommy Hagan, another one of the frat boys. But they both ignite at the opportunity to get drunk, challenge each other to stupid bets (with no real reward), and party with people. Tommy's kind of a dick, but mostly a class clown kind of guy—doesn't do a whole lot of bullying, maybe some friendly teasing that sometimes goes a little too far (because he sucks at gauging his limit).

Steve's a reformed bully. He's learning to just sort of go with the flow, which is aided a lot by being loose and free and goofy and out-of-his-mind stupid at frat parties. He wants to meet as many different people as possible, maybe not become friends with all of them, but he wants to at least broaden his horizons.

He's buddies with a sorority girl named Nancy Wheeler (who also happens to be an ex-girlfriend, but that's water under the bridge), but she's not into partying—more into having a group of girls who want to see her succeed as a journalist (her sorority consists of her high school best friend, Barbara Holland, Tommy's girlfriend, Carol Perkins, a giddy cheerleader, Chrissy Cunningham, and a band geek who wants to be a conductor, Robin Buckley). I think he also becomes friends with Jonathan (although a bit reluctantly) through Nancy, and Argyle through Jonathan.

Steve becomes friends with Robin Buckley. Slowly, but surely. Adores her rambling conversations, which increase when she gets even the slightest bit tipsy with him (she never exceeds a few shots, and when he's with her, he doesn't drink more than that, either). She teases him without hurting his ego, unlike Tommy. He appreciates when she tells him that he's being a meathead, when he's out of his depth, when he's doing something even the slightest bit offensive. With her, he learns about his own sexuality (when she eventually comes out to him during a rather intense frat party—they had too much to drink this time, both loose-lipped and teetering). He learns to appreciate the more nerdy aspects of her, Nancy, and the rest of their sorority. Realizes he's more catty than he thought. Plays soccer with Robin on the weekends, though he sucks in comparison to when they play basketball together.

And through Robin, he meets somebody entirely new to him. Eddie Munson, a metalhead with a raspy voice and a cigarette addiction that Steve can get into, who charms in this weird flirtatious (though unintentional) teasing, who's beyond weird and dramatic, geeky with a touch of defensive. He's got a bite to him that Steve barks right back at, though never meanly. They get along like a house on fire, not a match, a house. Sure, sometimes they drink and party. But Eddie likes quieter things, despite his loud and boisterous personality. They smoke weed and sit on the roof and point out stars, or they talk for hours and hours until they both lose their voice, or they smoke and lay in the grass—absorbing one another's warmth without realizing.

It knocks Steve down, how much he learns to adore somebody like Eddie. Stirring something in him, something he's felt in his drunkest moments with Tommy. But with Eddie, he's completely sober. He's sober with intense emotion and want for a guy he's never expected to orbit around.

And, oddly enough, it's not Robin that tells him to go for it.

It's Tommy. He says something like, "Hey, we may not be best friends anymore, but I know what love looks like, man. And, y'know, considering all your past relationships, maybe it's time that you get something that makes you happy?" His voice is serious, unusually so. And Steve sort of clings to it, like a warm blanket on a camping trip. Tommy then adds something along the lines of, "Be stupid with me, Stevie-boy. Don't be stupid about your feelings. That gets you nowhere. And...I don't know this Eddie guy, not really, but there's something to him. Like a...one of those cloud things that Carol's always talking about—an aura? I could see him drawing you in before you had the chance to get his name."

Steve probably retorts with, "Shut up." And then blushes stupid about it. Because Tommy's never been wrong about these sort of things, no matter how much of an air cadet he can be. And he's also not wrong because when Robin first described to Steve who Eddie was, without giving a name initially, Steve was hooked like one of the fish he catches. (He goes on frat boy fishing trips and has a million photos in his phone of all the trout he's caught. Holds them up to the camera in that Straight Boy Way™️ (trademarked in case you can't see that on your dash), all proud as if the fish is his degree he's going out for.)

Also, I imagine that Steve goes to school to get a bachelor's degree in something like sports science? Or like physical education? Even something like family and human services?

So, line up of fields of study/options because now I want to come back to this:

-Nancy: Journalism -Robin: Music Education or Music Composition -Eddie: English or Music Production or Art -Steve: Sports Science or Physical Education or Family and Human Services -Tommy: Economics -Barb: English or Art History -Carol: Architecture -Chrissy: Special Education and American Sign Language (S.E. is typically a minor, but ASL is almost always a major) -Jonathan: Photography and Composition -Argyle: Neuroscience (I just feel it in my bones that he's like secretly crazy talented in sciences)

I can also think of some of the scenes being texting in group chats. And like with illustrations of Steve holding up his fish? God, my brain is on fire tonight.

#stranger things #modern day au #frat boy steve harrington #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #tommy hagan #nancy wheeler #other characters minor #eventual steddie #steddie #platonic stobin

[shayyprasad]

helloo this is my first time in a while requesting so if this doesn't make much sense then that's whyy

could I please request peter parker with an s/o who does competitive cheer as a sport, and gets hurt a lot because they have a lot of main parts in routines (like tumbling nd holding girls up nd stuff), peter is always concerned for them cuz they r always hurting something but he also loves seeing them perform at comps and stuff

if you want a better understanding of the sport u could research! but thanks in advance <3

pom-poms and bruises | peter parker

a/n: your request was great, no worries! i did do my fair share of research, but lemme tell you, my knowledge on cheer (or, like, any sport) is mad limited. if i got some information incorrect, i apologize in advance! i took... creative liberties (?) and changed some minor details - instead of competitive cheer, it's high school cheer. enjoy the fic, and i hope i did this request it's justice. sorry this took so long!!

summary: peter can't help but worry seeing you all bruised up, but no matter what, he's your biggest fan.

warnings: the ouchies, innuendos to sex

pairing: fem!cheerleader!reader x peter parker

word count: 1.8k+ words

"oh jeez," peter sighs, rubbing his thumb over the bruise on your cheek. it was a blue-purple, indicating that it was fresh. "what happened?"

you wave him off, grinning, "you know how it goes, battle scars and all."

"scar?" he cocks a brow.

sighing, "battle bruise isn't half as badass."

"right, i forgot the most important thing is proclaiming our dominance in the social hiearchy of the big ol' globe. and obviously not our physical health."

"you wouldn't understand, baby. it's a full time job."

gently, peter pushes you up against your locker. leaning in to whisper, he says, "i wouldn't, angel? best believe i've got battle scars of my own."

"ugh. so not the same. not everyone has the luck of getting to be a human-spider."

"yeah, okay, luck."

"you seriously cannot complain," you deadpan. "that bite did you favors! like, down there, you grew at least- mmph-!"

peter covers your mouth with his hand, "we are not having this conversation."

"it was a compliment! i mean, it's not like you sucked before or anything. i'm just saying it... improved... you."

"somehow, this isn't going the direction you think it is."

"oops. i didn't mean to hurt your over-inflating ego."

"first off, if anyone has an ego that needs to be kept in check, it's you."

"don't blame me," you tell him, "blame the girls," you're referring to your cheer team, pinching his cheeks. "but... maybe i can compensate with a kiss?"

he feigns annoyance, "i suppose." in response, you lean in for a kiss, melting at his touch.

peter kisses your bruise as well, letting it linger for a moment longer. "does it hurt?" he asks.

"barely," you shrug, leaning in for more, but he isn't quite focused on that at the moment. giving you a look, he softly pokes your cheek, to which you wince.

"right. barely."

"don't be a worry-wart, worry-wart."

"i'm not! 'm just concerned!"

"puh-lease," you scoff. "you come back worse! remember that time you broke and entered into my bedroom, then proceed to bleed out onto that cute new rug?"

he looks down, epitome of cute puppy. "yes," peter says, guilty, "i do."

you pat his stomach, nuzzling your nose against his. "see? so you have nothing to worry about. me, on the other hand," you trail off.

"nah. you don't have anything to worry about either, angel."

"watch me worry anyways," you snort.

he pinches your cheeks, and you swat his hands away. "watch it!"

"you're my intellectual property."

"oh, so you're objectifying me now?"

"wait- no! no, of course not!"

"lemme me just say right now, may would not be happy."

peter groans, shoving you away.

"no!" you giggle, "i'm sorry! i won't snitch!"

he peeks an eye open, turning his head just barely to look at you. "fine, i guess," peter pulls you back.

"hey, petey?"

"hm?" he asks, nuzzled in your neck. there's just a few minutes before class starts, and he wants to make the most of it.

"are you coming to the game? it's my first year of being captain, and, well, it'd be cool if you came." suddenly you're more bashful than giggly, and he's quick to assure you.

"are you kidding me? of course i'm coming. i'm not missing the chance to see my girl shine.

"you sure? because i know you don't care for foot-"

"shhh," he presses his palm to your mouth. "yeah, i hate football, but i just to happen to love y- god!" he exclaims as you lick his hand, but in your defense, what did peter expect?"

"you put in on my mouth!"

peter narrows his eyes at you, "vermin."

"see you tonight?"

"see you tonight," peter replies as the bell rings. with one last kiss, you part ways.

your hair was done, two yellow and blue bows to tie the look together. midtown theme eyeshadow was painted on your eyelids, with stars dotted on your cheekbones. you have your cheer uniform on, and you're basically jumping with how giddy you are.

part of you is nervous, because you don't want to mess this up. every year, a senior is picked to be captain, with a junior as a mentee. not only do you have to set a good example for the junior this year, but you have to wow everyone.

checking your makeup one more time, you grab your purse, heading out to the car.

by the time you get there, your teammates are already stretching. on the other side of the field, football players are warming up. last year, liz was captain, well, before she moved. then she got replaced by gwen.

you knew liz and peter... okay, so you weren't completely sure, but they had something. some part of you wanted to be better than liz, entirely for peter. you know it was silly, but you felt like you had something to prove. some families are already in, which is funny, because there's an hour to the game.

it's normally parents and friends of the cheerleaders/players that get here before most people, but there are some occasions.

peter's here, you know that. you haven't looked for him yet, but as you get up, you scan the bleacher. finally, you spot a curly, brown-haired boy (it helps that he's waving like crazy) and his aunt. you blow a kiss to them, grin present of your face.

tasha, one your girls, taps your shoulder, "we're gonna run our routine a couple times, okay? just before the game starts." you pull your eyes away from may and peter, nodding at her.

the familiar music of your routine starts playing. the first part's easy, synchronized movements, shoulder-to-shoulder.

as the routine progresses, you feel the familiar rush of adrenaline. you spot the base of the pyramid, their arms outstretched, and with a deep breath, you allow yourself to be pulled upwards.

their grip is firm and reassuring as you climb, hand over hand, until you reach the apex. a split second later, you're soaring through the air, launching into a full backflip.

as you launch yourself into the backflip, you feel your body twist off-axis. the ground rushes up to meet you, and with a sickening thud, you land flat on your face. a gasp escapes your lips, the sting of impact radiating through your jaw.

the cheers falter for a moment, but your teammates are quick to react. they rush to your side, concern etched on their faces. you sit up, momentarily stunned, but the pain quickly makes itself known.

just as soon as it's there, it's gone, leaving you slightly sore. "i'm okay!" you call out, lopsided smile on your face. the first person you look for is peter, who's already heading towards you.

gently, he moves everyone away. "jesus, are you okay? what'd you fall onto? your head? wait, are you dizzy? lightheaded? nauseated?" peter grabs your by the chin, hurry to inspect everything on your face.

"baby, baby," you say, cradling his hand. "i'm okay, i swear. i might've bruised something... like my ego," you joke, smile on your face, but he is not amused.

"no? okay. well, honestly my jaw is too, or will be," you point to the left side. "'s red?"

"yeah," he winces, "it's gonna leave a nasty bruise." you're sure it's not as bad with makeup on, but you can't be sure.

"does anyone have concealer?" you call out.

jenny, a girl that's your shade nods, "yeah! i'll grab it!" she tosses it to you, and you catch it perfectly.

peter presses his lips together, "so no concussion?"

"because i caught it? to be fair, that was mostly luck."

his eyes widen. "but no! i don't have any concussions!"

peter tilts his head, "icepack?"

"nah. i'm good, really."

he hesitates, "okay. be careful though, seriously." you don't feel like hearing a lecture right now, so you nod quickly.

"i will, i will!"

"because i swear-"

"you won't have to! i'm all good. now leave," you joke, "you're embarrassing me. if i wanted to be smothered, i would've asked for my mom."

he blows a raspberry at you, and gives you a quick kiss. "be careful," he repeats, "and good luck!" he jogs back over to may, and you watch him leave.

jenny giggles as you brush yourself off, "you guys are so cute."

blushing, you murmur a thanks. quickly, you grab your phone to cover up the forming bruise. and there's not really time for another run-through.

all you can do is hope it won't happen again.

there's a small dance at the start of the game and some other here and there, but it's not anything crazy. what is crazy is halftime.

as you get into your position, you fidget. "you'll be great," one of the girls tell you.

"thank you," you smile.

"yeah, no, you will," says another.

you don't feel super ready, not after that fall, but there's not much you can do about it.

the song, louder than before, echoes through your eardrums, a roll of excitement passes through you. no matter how anxious you are, you'll always love cheer.

it's your safe place.

the music swells, and you launch into a series of cheers with your teammates, your voice ringing out in perfect unison. as the routine progresses, you feel the familiar rush of adrenaline. you spot the base of the pyramid, their arms outstretched, and with a deep breath, you allow yourself to be pulled upwards.

their grip is firm and reassuring as you climb, hand over hand, until you reach the apex. a split second later, you're soaring through the air, launching into a full backflip.

you twist perfectly, landing with a confident thud back in the waiting arms of your base. the crowd erupts in cheers, and you beam, the thrill of the successful stunt coursing through you.

you did it, and everyone's squealing. peter's not that far from where you are, and you can hear him shrieking; "that's my girlfriend!"

you grin at him, and he whoops again.

the rest of the game flies by, and you finish the last routine. midtown ends up winning 20-17.

peter scooping you up in his arms, spinning you around. "that was awesome! seriously, like, mind-blown! and you didn't fall this time!"

may comes up beside him, hugging you, "you did fantastic, sweetheart. freaked me out with that fall, though," she chuckles, and you kiss her cheek. "my bad," you tell her, rubbing the back of your neck.

"hey, pete, hun, i'm gonna head out, okay? hospital shift was crazy."

you frown, "was it late?"

may sighs, "two a.m. to five p.m."

"oh, may, you should've gone home to get rest!"

"and miss my lovely girl's big night? you're crazy."

"aww," you coo, hugging her again. "sleep well, okay?"

"oh, please, i'll be knocked out like a baby." you laugh as she leaves.

"we should totally get ice cream," peter says.

"ooh, yes!"

"wait, don't you have an after party?"

"i'd rather spend it with you," peter pecks your lips. "and, we can have extra dessert," he winks.

you frown in confusion, "like cupcakes too? can we get cho- oh. oh! i really, really like that idea."

"good. i'm gonna let you know how badass of a girlfriend you are."

"why don't we skip straight to the second dessert? switch things up?"

taglist: @whatsupstark @ell0ra-br3kk3r @idli-dosa @susvale @kdbsr-h @littlemsbumblebee @sflame15-blog @twinsunkithies @chocolateshepherddreamclod @one-piece-frvr7 @477strberry

#spiderman #peter parker #peter parker x reader #fluff #angst #tom holland x you #peter parker x you #tom holland #tom holland x reader #peter parker imagine

[writer-freak]

Gossiping | Hazbin x Gn reader

Characters: Alastor, Rosie, Vox, Lucifer, Angel Dust, Husk, Cherri Bomb and Velvette

Warnings: gn reader, can be seen as either platonic or romantic for most of these characters, is probably messy and characters could be ooc, english isn't my first language, maybe I will clean this up one day

A/n: Not really that happy with this and wrote this today to take my mind off things but I was thinking about who has the most tea to share in hell and this is how I ended up writing this. Also as a fellow aroace person, I'm probably gonna start writing some platonic Alastor fics.

Alastor:

Doesn't really spill tea himself that often but if he does expect it to be really hot

He often gossips with Rosie though it is mostly her who has something to talk about

So he really is used to listening to someone talking about the drama around hell

And actually, Alastor enjoys some good gossip especially if he can use that information to his advantage

He usually has these gossip sessions with you over a good cup of tea with some low jazz playing in the background

It also isn't unusual for you to go over to Rosie's to invite her into your gossip session

Rosie:

Rosie is the queen of gossip in cannibal town, knowing everything juicy about everyone around

She loves inviting you over to her place for some good tea and pinky fingers to snack on while you exchange drama

Rosie is really interested in others' lives so usually people are just open with her which is why she has so much information about everyone

While she really enjoys gossiping she also is a really good listener and can keep a secret if you need her to

Vox:

Not really that interested in gossip that is more Velvettes kind of thing

But he does try to stay up to date with some people (mainly Alastor) though that is usually as far as his interest in gossip goes

But he can actually tell you some juicy information as he has cameras all around the Pride ring 

But it will not really be a real gossip session as he just isn't that interested in drama 

If you ask he may tell you some things but it will probably be very brief 

So not really a gossiper even though he has a lot of information about people all around Pride

But this only applies to personal gossip everything looks completely different if he can use it on one of his broadcasts 

Drama from famous people around hell is great to get in viewers and sometimes if you really beg him to he will tell you some information before the official broadcast

But I wouldn't be surprised if he told you to just watch the show to hear what is going on

Lucifer:

He doesn't seem overtly interested in gossip especially if we look at the other characters 

But I think he just enjoys talking to you in general so if you have some interesting drama to tell him about he would listen attentively 

He would probably forget everyone's name in your gossip session and you would constantly have to explain to him again who was who

You two probably have these conversations in his suite, you two just chilling together maybe cuddling a bit while you watch something on the TV

Something happens in the show that reminds you of some gossip that you heard about and you need to tell all the details to Lucifer

Angel Dust:

Angel Dust is probably always in the know about the latest gossip and scandals

He just sees quite a bit of stuff on social media and I also wouldn't be surprised if he hears some stuff around the V tower

Also sometimes he hears some things from people he flirts or hooks up with

You two would probably be in his room to gossip just chilling on his bed doing some skincare

Him painting your nails while exchanging anything that you have picked up since your last gossip session

How he tells you about stuff is just so engaging and he also just loves to hear what kind of tea you have

For him, this really is good quality time and just loves spending his downtime with you like this

Husk:

Husk hears so much stuff while at the bar from the hotel's residents

So this is also usually where you tell him about some of the latest hot gossip going on around hell

While Husk has quite a lot of information about the other residents of the hotel he doesn't really wanna tell on them so usually he doesn't add much to these sessions

He is just more the listening guy and doesn't participate in spreading

He will listen to you and if you have something more serious to discuss he is a great person

He just lends you a non-judgmental ear and you can confide in him 

And you know that he doesn't tell anyone about what you tell him

Cherri Bomb:

Cherri Bomb is someone who loves stirring up trouble but I don't think she is that strong of a gossiper

Or at least she isn't really that dedicated to it

With how you two mostly meet up to go out and get fucked up that is also when you exchange some gossip

Like hell yeah she will listen but it's not really something that interests her in the long run

And she is usually drunk or on drugs (but probably both to be honest) 

So don't really expect her to remember everything you told her if you want to update her on something

For her, it's mostly one ear in and out the other 

But that is really only for random people that she doesn't care about 

If it is one of her friends or if you have some trouble she will try to be more attentive and actually help you out

Even if she is high as a kite she would never leave a friend hanging

Velvette :

Velvette usually knows everything about the drama going on online

She really enjoys gossiping and it isn't unusual for her to call you up if she has something particularly juicy

Often invites you over to her place so you two can chill with some food and talk about all the shit going on around you

Wouldn't be surprising that if you two are close she also tells you about insider tea going on around the V tower 

However, she has to trust you that you won't share anything that could actually harm the V's

Even if you tried to spread something about them it wouldn't go far

Divider: @thecutestgrotto

#gn reader #x reader #gender neutral #fluff #headcanons #hazbin husk #hazbin alastor #alastor & reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #hazbin angel dust #alastor #alastor hazbin #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #rosie hazbin hotel #hazbin rosie #rosie #cherri bomb #cherri hazbin hotel #cherri x reader #hazbin hotel vox #vox #vox x reader #vox x you #husk x reader #velvette x reader #angel dust x reader

[ohsayit]

Zevlor's age, new oath, and future

Zevlor is not main enough of a character in the game for him to have specific lore about his age. FR wiki says average life span for tieflings is 90-150 years and they age roughly the same rate as humans. Zevlor looks like human in their late 40s to mid 50s to me so based on my pure guesswork, I like to think he is 60-70 years old and has at least 40 years left.

He is old enough to have some serious and/or long term relationship before Avernus. If he was in a relationship, I don't think Zevlor's partner will survive both Hell and exile. He is conveniently single for us.

After all the Brain business and regained his paladin power from an unknown oath (my personal guess is Devotion. Or Vengeance at least), he is capable of doing things again.

The Flaming Fist is no friend to Hellriders, even the exiled ones. So he shouldn't be settling in Baudler's Gate. He may take a few of his closest associates with him and settle somewhere nearby.

That opens up two routes for me, originally.

One of them being he settles down to be a regular civilian. Maybe he joins the local force to protect the settlement.

But this man loves having a purpose. Glory is second to Honour for him. Honour comes from Duty and Purpose. I think this man is all about having a purpose. He takes pride in having one and his commitment for it. So even he said his soldiering days is over, the power that came to him from the new oath, will nudge him back to the road again. Protecting the settlement he lives in feels too small of a purpose for him (unless it's a big city which doesn't make much sense for me). This man used to be a commander among "elite cavalris" and sserved in "one of the most renowned and well-regarded military forces in the Realms". He needs to protect something big or important enough for him.

So this is the other and my preferred route. For my Tav in particular, maybe some bits will suit yours.

Zevlor grouped with his close associates and base somewhere near Baldur's Gate. One, they can get in touch with other people from Elturel who settled in Baldur's gate. Two, Tav knows where to find him. They travel around to put their power to good use, bit similar to mercenary. Tav saunters over from time to time just to mess with our old man and fuck him senseless.

Desire to live a life reignites when Zevlor has one again.

He knows Tav is no parent material. On top of that, they are not even in a relationship. He wonders when she will stop visiting. Every time she shows up is a delight. The better it feels every time she visits, the more his mind wonders to ridiculous places. He wants a relationship and possibly a kid with her. Although he knows that will not happen in this eternity, he still fantasies about it sometimes.

FR wiki I look at this time: https://forgottenrealms.fandom.com/wiki/Hellriders

---------------------------------------------------------------

End note

Uggghhhh sorry for the long post loll It is super unintended. All I wanted to say was just "dude looks like having 40-50 years left, he wants a kid once he has a life, a kid with Tav in specific, not just a rando woman" See where this one sentence takes me (facepalm)

I am working on a one shot Zevlor/Tav fic, inspired by my own post -,- It was supposed to be an easy, fun, simple, one shot, quick smut. I didn't plan to give Zevlor this much mind for the fic but here I am -,- writing a long ass post for our precious old man.

I blame Larian for all of this.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #zevlor #bg3 zevlor #headcanon #my own

[wrencatte]

mini fic 8 ! Fallen Order - Bogano First Visit - Cal & Greez & Cere Cal likes to sleep in...interesting places. Greez POV - 1.6k words

ao3 minific link - chapter 7 (beard)

Cal comes back from exploring more of Bogano limping, but in good spirits. Giddy, even!

Greez would almost be suspicious of it, not quite trusting the kid still, if it weren’t for how…young he looks with his cheeks flushed and his hair wild, holding an animated conversation with that droid that’s apparently sticking around. It takes years off him. Makes him look his age and like he wasn’t – like he wasn’t part of what was a genocide of his people.

Oh…great. Now Greez is sad just from looking at him.

He goes back to focusing on sprucing up the Mantis, determined to ignore his growing fondness for a kid who could scrap his ship for credits in a heartbeat. Scrappy describes the kid in more ways than one and Greez is not getting attached, stop. But he is. Because Cal is serious and jaded, but he also listens to Greez when he talks about the upgrades he’s done to the Mantis, asking intelligent questions and actually interested in the answer. He loves all food, never picky even when Cere’s nose wrinkles just a bit. When he laughs, it sounds like he means it despite all the terrible things he’s gone through. And – he’s just a kid. How could Greez dislike a kid who’s gone through such hardships and yet is still trying to do some good in galaxy?

He wonders vaguely if that’s a Jedi thing or a Cal Kestis thing – and decides maybe it’s a little bit of both. Cere’s a good person too. He can see the similarities in the two of them, raised on the same values and lessons, just trying their best in a galaxy that hates them.

Greez is so good at ignoring his own feelings and everything around him that an hour passes before he realizes…Cal isn’t hanging around anymore. The latero briefly considers being worried, but then dismisses the thought. He’s probably back out exploring Bogano. Sometimes the kid disappears for the entire day, gone before the sun rises and not back until it’s well below the horizon. How he can find so much to explore in this backwater swamp, he has no idea, but he’s not about to go out investigating himself.

Satisfied with that logic, it’s back to buffing out the blaster marks off the Mantis’ exterior. Hm, maybe a new paint job? Cal found something out in one of the workshops, didn’t he? Presented it with a grin and a twinkle in his eyes, laughing when Greez opened it and found an eye-watering pink inside. Pink is a little too distinctive, but Cal handed over another tin of an understated swamp green Greez actually likes. Maybe he’ll tag the kid to help.

He’s distracted by his thoughts by a flash of red-white out of the corner of his eye – BD-1, wandering around and scanning insects that he’s probably scanned a dozen times before.

….with no ginger-haired Jedi in tow.

Great.

Where BD is, Cal should also be. It’s a new rule of the galaxy. Never one without the other. The last time that happened, turns out Cal got tangled up in some rope and was hanging over a drop so high Greez couldn’t see the ground.

“Where is he?” he asks the little droid. He gets a simple beep in response which Greez totally understands. Completely. Yeah.

 – Greez stares blankly, not understanding at all. BD does a little head waggle, making a noise that sounds suspiciously like a droid’s version of laughter. That little shit.

“Hey! We can’t all be fluent in fifty billion languages. Give me a break.”

He may be over-estimating that number by a tad, but it’s definitely a high number. The translation matrix in the Mantis isn’t exactly top notch, but it has a pretty decent database and it still glitches when Cal gets worked up and switches to a new language he hadn’t used before.

The question is how does he know so many and the answer gives Greez a headache every time.

He will never understand the Force.

“Just…where is he? If he fell in a hole and broke is leg somewhere Cere’s gonna to kill me.”

Or ran into another, what did he call it? An oggdo? According to Cal, he barely escaped with his life. Still injured from their escape from Bracca and caught by surprise, the kid lost a good chunk of his poncho and had to be hosed down before being let back onto the ship, covered in toad gunk and mud. Now that he’s healed, he’s supposed to be figuring out their next move concerning the Vault, but maybe he’s decided to throw himself into a fight with an oggdo again – and lost, and that’s why BD’s here, looking for help.

BD-1 would be more frantic if that was the case, right?

“Where’s Cal?”

Ah, speak and she shall appear. The galaxy really is just out to get him.

Greez face-palms as he turns to see Cere standing on the Mantis’ ramp, looking a little sleep ruffled but getting more and more awake as her gaze bounces from Greez to BD-1 and never to Cal because Call isn’t here. The fact that she’s stopped long enough to fall asleep, let alone actually slept, is a kriffin’ miracle. She’s been non-stop ever since they picked up Imperial communications of a Jedi on Bracca and said Jedi turned out to be a teenager who decided to immediately pass out from his injuries once they entered hyperspace.

And that was nearly three weeks ago.

“Heeyy, Cere. Have a nice nap?”

She raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “I did, actually. Now, where’s Cal?”

Greez waves a hand. “Oh, you know him. He’s probably getting distracted by some new thing to explore.”

Cere crosses his arms, eyes flickering down to where BD-1 is watching them. “And I’m sure he made a conscious decision to do that without BD-1, didn’t he?”

“Maybe. You never know.” Greez feels oddly defensive, and he wonders if that’s a Jedi Master ability, making him feel like a kid who stole from the sweets jar when it reality it was his brother.

BD bwoops, it almost sounds like he’s laughing, hopping from foot to foot before he takes off, disappearing behind the ship’s ramp quick as a blink. Greez and Cere exchange bewildered looks. All they can do is follow. Where BD is, Cal will also be. And in turn, where Cal is, BD will be there. This they’ve learned – Cere when she nearly tripped over the droid sitting patiently as Cal meditated. Greez when he went to the second level of the Mantis for storage and found BD standing guard as Cal quietly had some sort of panic attack.

Kindred spirits, Cere had called them with a sad sort of smile on her face.

When they make their way under the Mantis – Cere having to duck – what greets them is, quite frankly, an adorable sight.

Cal is curled up in the shadows, poncho pulled tight around him, head cradled on his arm.

Deeply asleep. He’s not even talking like he sometimes does. His expression is relaxed, content even. A few of the brown, bouncing critters that dig burrow – boglings? – are piled up around him like a lump of dozing akk dogs. Ears twitch. Legs kick out as they dream. They’re snoring. These little sounds that Greez will never admit out loud he finds cute. If he listens closely enough, he can hear a deeper snore from beneath the pile – Cal.

BD beeps quietly, a job well done in letting them know where Cal is, then skitters over to the kid, picking carefully around various limbs until he can tuck himself under Cal’s arm and snuggle against his chest like he’s a bogling himself. Cal makes a soft sound and curls around the droid, holding him close.

“Would you look at that,” Cere says softly, expression aching.

Cal sleeping -- actually sleeping without nightmares or pain – is something neither of them are familiar with at all. And who can blame him? Greez can’t imagine that the kid’s been through. He’ll be having nightmares himself for a long while thanks to Bracca.

“Do we leave him here?” Greez asks, torn between wanting him to sleep and cringing at the amount of mud that’s gotta be soaking into his clothes.

BD whirls in quiet warning, daring them to try and wake Cal. Cere laughs, shaking her head.

“Do you want to be the one who wakes him up?” she asks, her tone amused. Greez grimaces. No thank you. “I thought so. It’s better if we let him sleep, especially if he’s sleeping so well. It’ll be easier to connect to the Force if he’s well rested.”

“So, we just…walk away? Leave him alone?” Sleeping outside isn’t exactly his idea of a good time.

“Are you planning on going any further from the ship?”

“Well, no.”

Cere gestures to the boglings that have, surprisingly, not run away yet. A couple are looking at the two of them with wide, wary eyes, but they seem too comfortable to move. “He has plenty of guards. We’re not going anywhere. You’re more than welcomed to hose him down before he boards.”

“Oh. Yeah. Good point.” Greez is absolutely hosing him down. Bogano mud stinks.

They leave him there, sleeping soundly with BD on guard, but they don’t go far. Cere disappears for only a couple minutes before she comes back out with a holonovel, a drink, and a chair, setting up right where she can juusstt see a peek of Cal under the ramp. Greez picks up the buffer again, pauses in thought, then hurries to grab the swamp green paint tin – after a nanosecond of hesitation, he scoops up the pink paint as well.

He’s sure there’s a non-obtrusive thing he can paint pink. Maybe it’ll get that one bright, looks-his-age smile from Cal again.

#it's been a hot minute #cal kestis #greez dritus #mantis crew #my writing #this one is just a little ramble #i just knew i wanted cal sleeping under the ramp with boglings #hope you enjoy! #posted this on ao3 too #i have not read it for edits #ao3 chapter will be read for edits when I wake up and am waiting on my car to be inspected

[nerdieforpedro]

WIP Wednesday

I haven’t been working on much. 👀 So I think I have three previews? One would say that’s not nothing Nerdie and they are correct. It’s just my brain has been…flipped upside down, shaken and stirred and jostled a little just for funsies. 😑 Bah.

Anyway! Good news is that I am heavy in the fluff camp! Smut was lost between being shaken and stirred I think. 🤔

I was tagged by @secretelephanttattoo @604to647 @djarins-cyare and @inept-the-magnificent 💕💕💕 Thank you for thinking of me. ❤️

Previews under the cut:

The first is for “Our Journey Across the Star Ocean.”

His hand touched face one time with his bare hand next to Grogu’s little green one on your cheek, his thumb brushed against your lips. He held it there a moment before dropping his hand. You wonder if he was embarrassed or sorry that he did so. But his hand is once again in yours as he charts the course to the next bounty.

It’s not only the small touches. Din always remembers enough cleaning supplies for your tools and the ship in addition to the small little caf cakes you like after a bounty goes well. Din might have started eating one as he would buy three instead of just two. The small parchment paper in the refuse was the evidence he’d had one.

It’s very cute I think. 💕 we’re at part four, may end at part five because…reasons. 👀

The second preview is for a random Dieter Bravo series I wanna write just because:

“I’ll text Mindy. It will be fine. Anything happens she’ll blame me anyway. You can just be licking ice cream off your lips.” Scooting closer to Tamia, Dieter purposely lowers his head to look up at her, using his deep brown eyes to his advantage. If you’ve got it, use it right?

Huffing, Tamia reluctantly agrees to Dieter’s proposal for ice cream. A car is summoned and they’re off within ten minutes. A flurry of texts from Mindy stating that he needs to take Tamia home now go ignored other than Dieter’s one reply: Okay mom. We’ll be back in plenty of time. It’s just ice cream.

Who doesn’t want ice cream, especially with Dieter? 🥰

Lastly, I’m working on Only Pieces of you Mr. Morales finale it’s longer than a Drabble (my bad) but I gotta wrap it up properly:

There stands Francisco, a messy mop of dark curls bouncing on the back of his neck, his gray t-shirt struggling to contain his biceps and shoulders. He was wearing tan cargo shorts that cupped the curve of his ass just right. He’s finishing up the eggs, the bacon is to the side, pancakes are keeping warm in a metal baking pan covered with foil. The table is set with orange juice and syrup already out. If she wasn’t apprehensive about what conversation they were going to have, she’d tell him to cover all the food and head back to the bedroom. This is by far one of the sexiest and sweetest things he does for her: letting her not worry about anything. She’s waiting for his usual line of “breakfast is served mi amor (my love).” That’s not what he turns and says.

And a last sentence because @djarins-cyare did one:

Javi and Abigail watched the cerulean blue waves roll against the rocks as they finished up their meal.

I made progress on my Javi G series Two Hearts by the Ocean finally! 🌊

NPT: @rhoorl @maggiemayhemnj @laurfilijames @grogusmum @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@goodwithcheese @djarinmuse @connectioneverywhere @morallyinept @megamindsecretlair

@soft-persephone @soft-girl-musings @spacecowboyhotch @avastrasposts @mysterious-moonstruck-musings

@magpiepills @pedroshotwifey @julesonrecord @alltheglitterandtheroar @pamasaur

@saturn-rings-writes

PS: I might have made notes to two Moon Knight fics. 👀 Again for reasons…maybe found while being flipped. Who knows these things really?

#WIP #wip wednesday #pedro pascal characters #fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #din djarin #frankie morales #dieter bravo #moon knight #just before the stroke of midnight

[gloomysoup]

okay i know i really only post about steddie but i also have so many other ships and i had an idea while driving to work this morning (it may or may not have been slightly inspired by me blasting vigilante shit by taylor swift)

-

i'm imagining a famous au buckingham fic (with a side of steddie perhaps) wherein chrissy was a child star at the hand of her parents. it started with acting, but switched over to a pop artist career when she was 15/16. she's never allowed to write her own music, except on very rare occasions. her parents approve EVERYTHING. chrissy has no power over her own life whatsoever. she still acts from time to time, but most of the focus is on her music career. she's selling out stadiums full of young girls by the time she's 17.

nothing about chrissy cunningham's life is real. it's all just a show her parents force her to put on for the sake of money and reputation. not that she sees much of that money anyway. chrissy has money. she's actually considered rich to most. however, she should have more than she does. her parents squirrel away most of it with insistence that it's going into a savings account for her to access when she turns 21.

chrissy meets Corroded Coffin frontman Eddie Munson when she is 18, at the after party of some awards show. it had been his band's first award nomination. they hit it off instantly (platonically of course) and remain close friends from then on out. eddie is chrissy's rock. she tells him everything. eddie wishes he could do something useful to help her, but she promises that just having a real friend who isn't paid off by her parents is help enough.

into her 20s, chrissy is ready to grow up. she's ready to make the music she wants to make and stop portraying herself as a child. she wants to be the adult she is. eddie suggests getting out from under her parents first, bc they both know they won't approve of chrissy's desires. stuff happens, and chrissy learns that her parents had lied about the savings account. all the money they had promised she would get back was gone. they had kept it for themselves.

i haven't yet figured out exactly how robin and steve fit into this. maybe they're an actor duo who has so much on-screen (platonic) chemistry that they just keep getting roles in the same films, or maybe they're an up and coming indie duo trying to make their way into the scene. either way, they eventually meet and become friends (or enemies, who knows 🤷‍♀️)

something something chrissy eventually gets out from under her parents with the help of eddie, robin, and steve. she makes two albums of her own under the same label, because they made promises that she could finally be herself. when she realizes that isn't the case, she leaves the label and finds someone else. she has an entirely new team, she's figuring out her life with robin, everything is going well. and then maybe she finds out her old team at the previous label sold her masters to her parents (their plan all along). so now, she's not getting any money from any of her music. everything from when she was a young, naive teenager, all the way to the first albums she ever made solely as herself, is gone. her parents get all of it. she doesn't see a single penny.

that's all i've really come up with so far. idk it may be something, it may not be.

#stranger things #buckingham #background steddie #famous au #chrissy cunningham #robin buckley #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve and robin #platonic stobin #they're besties in every universe #gloomysoup #gloomysoup writes

[wutheringcaterpillar]

Hi! I’m wondering if you would be willing to write a fic where the snobby wife of Emmett or Lenny wants to have a surrogate with an advanced method (which he agreed to because he’s faithful to his wife), instead of having a baby of their own because the wife didn’t want to ruin their body. While they’re searching for the candidate, they found Y/N and the wife didn’t want her as the surrogate, but he doesn’t give a damn and wants her to be the surrogate the traditional way which he didn’t care if it ruins his marriage.

Summary: The neighbor who plays games through the window happens to be a more than willing candidate to solve one of Lenny’s many marriage problems. Warnings: age gap (reader is 20), breeding kink, surrogacy, cheating (kinda), surrogacy, a fucked marriage, slight lactation kink mentioned

Thank you for the request! This is my first Lenny fic, hope you enjoy ❤️

The Millers had been married for nearly two years, Lenny’s wife Marsha was a force to be reckoned with. She owned her own catering business and after a year or two it took off and she began to bring in money, not being so kind to the potential customers that couldn’t afford her “top tier” service.

Sitting in the kitchen Lenny was enjoying his morning coffee (black of course), and ignoring the screeching sound of Marsha complaining about every thing under the sun, as if she didn’t always get her way.

Lenny swore that if breathed even remotely in her vicinity, she would get pissed off. There had been talks of a baby but with Marsha being infertile, the only option on the table was surrogacy.

Lenny already had a contender in mind, someone he’s had his eyes on for quite some time.

Ending the phone call she was on, she turned to her husband with curious look on her face. Funny how her mood changes as soon as she wants something from him.

“Did you find anyone yet dear? I haven’t had much luck.” Matter of fact he did, but whether or not she was going to agree was a different conversation that he could already presume the answer.

“Well what about Y/N? She’s young and in her twenties. She’d be great” His wife glanced at him with an incredulous look of disgust.

“The twenty year old across the street? Absolutely not, she’s a stuck up prissy little whore. Always walking around in those horrendous shorts and crop tops. I want our child to be sophisticated and wise not a bimbo Lenny. Find someone else.” His wife had never taken the time to get to know you the way he did. Rolling his eyes, he glanced across the street, seeing you sprawled out in the grass laying on your stomach reading a book on this hot summer day.

Lenny had wanted you for a long time now. There had been a continuation of stolen glances, innocent flirtatious banter. 

Unbenknownst to his wife, he spent an endless amount of time staring out the window, watching you put on a show for him trying on different lingerie, playing with your breasts and touching yourself. 

You were a delicacy he craved to indulge in.

Hearing the car door slam, he waited for his wife to be out of sight before walking over to your property, his tall silhouette blocking the sun and forming a shadow of your reading.

Glancing up, you lowered your sunglasses and purposefully propped your ass up. A mischievous smile smearing across your face.

“Mr. Miller! Can I assist you with something? ” You batted your eyelashes playfully before closing the engorging old novel. He took note you were reading the classical “The Great Gatsby.” He was always a fan of seeing young readers indulging in works of early literature.

“Actually you can, may we go inside and have a chat?” Giggling and smirking, you nodded for him to follow you into the house, offering him a drink in the process and insisting that he take a seat.

A part of you was curious what this handsome, impeccably clean man could want from you, was it sex? An affair? Maybe he was leaving his wife. 

“So what do I owe the pleasure Mr. Miller?” He folded his leg on top of the other, trying to hide the fact you didn’t call him Lenny or Leonard turned him on immensely. He tried not to stare at your ass as you reached for a glass on the top shelf of your kitchen, but your cheeks were nearly falling out at this point. Fuck how he’s tried to be a good husband, but the way Marsha has been lately, the caring aspect of his marriage was dwindling into nothing.

“Allow me to start of by saying you have a beautiful place. My wife actually, she wants to have a baby but she’s infertile. I was wondering if you’d want to do the honors? I know it’s a lot to ask, a lot to put your body through but-Oh!” His words diminished when you set the glass of water down and kicked apart his legs, placing your knee firmly against his growing shaft causing his breath to hitch in his throat.

“You want to put a baby in me? Is that it?” His crystal blue eyes seemed to wander to your cleavage that was sitting blatantly in front of his face. Tipping his chin up, demanding his eye contact you grazed your hand over his upper arm, gripping at the muscular tone of his bicep instead sending chills down his spine as he withheld a moan.

“Eyes are up here sweetheart…” His heart palpitated in his chest, arousal building as his brain went haywire from the alluring lock of yours eyes. Scanning and searching the older man with interest and  before taking his hand and settling it on the cushion of your boob.

“Ye-yes but not, not the injection way. I want to fuck you, I’ve been wanting to fuck you. We may have to do it a few times just to- to make sure it takes.” He gulped desperately, not even noticing the massaging movement of his hand on your breast.

Pulling away with a playful grin, you passed him his glass of water and returned to the sink when you noticed his wife’s car pull back into the driveway.

“How are you going to convince your wife? I know she hates me.”

Lenny chugged his glass, wiping at the sweat building at the nape of his neck, what he wouldn’t do to take you here, right over this god damn table. Standing from his seat, he held a firm stance and tucked his hands in his pockets.

“I can be very persuasive. I’ll be back in a few hours. Don’t play with that pretty little pussy until I’m here, got it?” You nodded playfully at his demand and motioned for him to go.

Walking back to his house, Marsha was standing in the doorway leaning on the frame with fury in her eyes, but Lenny wasn’t having any if it.

Shoving past his wife, she began yelling obscenities, demanding to know why he was in your fucking house after she made it perfectly clear you weren’t an option.

He put her complaints to a hault, turning around and pointing his finger directly in her face.

“I’ve been more than willing to give you what you want but it’s about time that I get what I want. Don’t act like I don’t know about the emails with Steven or that you’ve been racking up debt with my credit cards. Let’s not forget I work for the god damn CIA, I’m not a fool like you make me out to be I think it’s only fair sweetheart. I will be fucking her, and you will agree or you won’t be getting a fucking baby. Not from me.” She stood there mouth agape left speechless. If she thought she had an upper hand she was sadly mistaken. Before she could protest Lenny simply raised an eyebrow before heading back across the street.

He’d taken his wife’s shit for far too long and it ends here regardless of possibly jeopardizing his marriage.

Bursting through the door with a pit of fire in his stomach, when he heard the shower running he ran up the stairs, patience non existent.

Ripping open the shower curtain, his sapphire eyes settled on your soapy body, causing you to scream from the sudden surprise. Before you had a chance to say anything he was stepping to the shower, drenching his close while he closed the distance and pressed your wet body against the wall, locking his lips with yours instantly taking your breath away while embracing the hot water drenching him.

He smelt of teakwood and mint, so alluring and consuming as your hands tangled in the strands of his once well combed hair, nails dragging and pushing his lips in closer, tongues intertwining and swirling in profound desire lust.

“I’m glad you made it to me, gonna breed me hm? Knock me up with your baby.” 

“Going til fill you to the brim over and over again til that tummy is plump.”

Dropping to your knees and undoing his zipper, you released his cock, eyes going wide with excitement when the eager member popped out, merely slapping against his abdomen.

Lenny knew he was big but he was mature and grateful about it and all he could think about was stretching that tight little pussy.

Gripping the shaft, your hand moved swiftly and slowly around the girth of his cock, massaging the sensitive skin before your lips enveloped the head os his cock.

An exasperated gasp escaped Lenny’s lips at the sudden warmth and slippery slope of your hallowed cheeks.

You moaned around his length, staring up at him with lustful eyes from your kneeling position. 

“Such a dirty girl.” He moved the strands of hair from the front of your face, locking the laces inbetween his digits watching you swallow his length fully, mascara flowing messily down your cheeks.

You were such a sight for sore eyes, he could feel his heart palpitate in his chest seeing you in such a vulnerable position bobbing your head up and down. If he stayed like this he wouldn’t last very long.

Lifting you up, he carried you into the bedroom, laying you down before aligning his cock with your dripping cunt, sliding inside of your tight walls effortlessly.

The sight of your flawless, young, nude body on didplay for him so up close and personal, sent a thrill up his spine, peaking his arousal.

Your nipples glowed in the sunlight, back arching in desperation from the stretch of him, your walls clenching to his every inch.

“You are indisputably insatiable.” He breathed out as your fingers trailed down his chest before pulling down by his neck into a fruitful kiss.

He pumped in and out of you relatively slowly, wanting to relish in the moment, focusing on your warmth squeezing his shaft, aching purely for him.

The feeling of disbelief that this was actually happening still fluttering around your mind as he stuffed you.

“Fuck me Lenny. I mean really fuck me.” He scanned your needing eyes, raising an eyebrow questioning whether or not your body could handle it.

“Don’t hold back, I need you to consume me, own me, right…now.”

Placing his hands on your thighs, he pulled your body down slamming you down onto his cock, bottoming out in your alluring sex.

“Oh! Fuck!” You bit down on your bottom lip from the feeling of being so full, making direct eye contact with his charismatic blue eyes as he fucked you relentlessly. Your boobs bouncing up and down ferociously fast with each power driven thrust.

“Can’t wait to see that tummy full with my baby, can’t wait to fuck you when your boobs are leaking milk and you’re begging to be fucked more than you are now. Fuck..” Beads of sweat formed at his temple, hair falling in front of his face while his eyes darkened, the animalistic sexual instincts kicking in. Your hands grasped at his shoulder, grinding down against his bush needing more and more, your pussy throbbing from the constant brushing of his cock against your clit. He was an experienced man and it was quite clear he knew how to pleasure a woman, turning you on even more.

“Fuck, fuck Lenny…wanna- wanna feel your seed- wanna-need to-“ Your words faltered as you crumbled beneath him, his eyes never leaving yours, noting the visible sexual distress you were in.

The sound of your desperate voice moaning his name making him pulsate inside you, he was on the edge, so close to cumming but he was a man of honor and determined to get you off first.

Lifting your legs, he placed your ankles around his shoulders, rutting into you, balls slapping against the bare of your skin.

His cock smacked against your cervix with each movement in this position. You wouldn’t last long, especially with his intimidating yet attractive stare. A man had never been so focused on you and your pleasure during sex until now.

“Want my baby in you? Want to feel my cum drenching that pretty pussy, hm?” Your lips parted, mouth falling open when your body convulsed, back arching as your orgasm approached very sneakily.

“Yes! Yes! Give me what your wife can’t fucking have…fuck, I’m going to fucking cum Lenny I’m..” Your breaths became staggered, moans becoming louder as your ankles locked behind his neck, toes curling at the anticipating high.

“Go on darling, cum for me, cum on my cock while I put a baby in you. Show me how much you needed me.” Within seconds your walls came tumbling down, your core shaking from the intensity of the euphoric, palpable orgasm.

Lenny watched as you come undone beneath him, and with one last detrimental thrust, you felt his cock pulsating and the pool of his seed coating your inner walls, rushing straight to your uterus.

He fell down on the bed beside you as you both tried to steady your breathing.

Glancing over at one another in a heated craze, he kissed you once more with profound passion.

“Water break?” You gulped, unsure if your overstimulated cunt could take it. Within twenty minutes you were right back at it.

The following weeks he continued to fuck you, wanting to ensure the chance of pregnancy to just get his wife to shut the fuck up about having a baby. She didn’t have to like who it was with, she should have been grateful that he would even give her what she wanted most, that you would help even though you both knew this was a selfish arrangement but then again, Marsha was the quern of selfishness.

Within a month you’d notice your period never showed. After taking three tests, you were stunned to read the results. 

Changing into an outfit you knew would piss his wife off, you skipped across the street with the tests in hand.

Knocking at the door with a wide grin on your face, to your surprise Marsha answered her smile turning into a deceitful frown when she saw the positive pregnancy sticks in your hand.

“Who’s at the door I’m expecting-“ Lenny’s words came to a hault when he witnessed the scene, his wife’s head turning back to face him in anger and resentment but he didn’t feel the least bit sorry, instead wanting Marsha to feel how she often made him feel, like shit.

“Well you’ve got what you wanted didn’t you? Go on thank Y/N for being such a kind service.” Through gritted teeth and possibly the fakest smile you’d ever seen she thanked you unwillingly kindly for being a such a big help. Forever knowing her husband fucked the neighbor girl, and that would not be the last time that her husband would be over there, regardless of the original arrangement.

#Lenny miller #leonard miller #anna #lenny miller x reader #lenny miller imagine #Leonard miller x reader #leonard miller imagine #requested #ranaewrites

[dekupalace]

isatcord got this so I'll just drop this family bonds thing here too teehee

#THIS IS NOT FINAL this is just a concept i wrote for my own timeline reference #this may or may not happen in the fic. maybe. maybe not. who knows #i mean i know but ill never tell lmao #im slowly working on this again! im sorry for the hold up ive been so out of it lately and i think i needed the little break #im working on things other than family bonds too so its very on and off #also im gonna be real i never got over that cold LOL its still haunts me every so often and ive been napping a lot because of it #still......dont listen to my excuses ill get there #thank you again for your patience and love and FAN ART AND FAN WRITING???? I LOOK AT THAT SHIT EVERY DAY YALL ITS SO COOL #i hope the wait will be worth it for everyone...but i guess we will see #okay back i go to the realm of google docs #busy.🐝

[seventh-district]

Midnight Hour

With the warm haze of sleep fading from you, your brow furrows as your right hand presses lightly against his lower abdomen, your thumb sweeping up and down in a small attempt at a comforting motion. You quietly call for his attention, voice still thick with sleep.

“Star? Is everything okay?”

His typically silent breath suddenly hitches, and his head angles down to face you. Now that he’s turned toward the light, you catch the way his eyes shine, and the way the light reflects off of what you quickly realize are tear tracks, running down his cheeks.

You awake in the middle of the night to find your lover in tears.

Pairing: Astarion x Reader

Word Count: 3,139

Content Warnings: [crying (obviously)] [non-specific mentions of Astarion's past trauma] [this fic was written by someone who hasn't actually played the game and that might show in the details/the lack thereof]

Blinking your tired eyes open, you squint at the light of the crackling fire in front of you. Closing them again, you let out a soft sigh as you try to guess at the current time. Given that you woke on your own, you’re assuming it’s likely close to, but not quite, time for you to take over tonight’s watch shift.

Your group has fallen into a routine where you pair off into teams of two, and a different team keeps watch each night. Tonight’s turn belongs to you and Astarion, and he’s taken the first half of the shift as usual. You usually, ironically, sleep your best on the nights that he keeps watch, in spite of only getting half the amount of sleep as you do on the nights another team has the job.

You suppose you can credit the fact that, at the end of the day, Astarion is a creature of the night. Something about knowing he has the upper hand when it comes to any unwanted nighttime visitors your group may encounter is… reassuring. To you, as well as to the others in the group, loathe as some of them may be to admit it. That is, once they all felt confident in his promises to not make a surprise midnight snack of them, at least.

Tonight is a bit of an exception, though, and you’re not quite sure what woke you early this time. You typically sleep soundly until he gently coaxes you awake, nails combing through your hair, voice soft and apologetic in your ear. He’s always somewhat reluctant to wake you, but he does so nonetheless, having learned his lesson after the first time he made the executive decision to let you sleep the whole night through. His arguments of “You really looked like you could use the rest.” and “What’s one sleepless night? I can sleep when I’m dead.” didn’t hold much water in the face of the way he dragged ass through the entire next day.

In “the spirit of fairness” and “proving that he can stick to an agreement,” he never tried to take the whole shift by himself again. It definitely didn’t have anything to do with how guilty he felt when he heard the disappointment in your tone when you awoke that first morning and discovered he hadn’t stuck to the plan. Definitely.

Laying there in the quiet, you try and fail to pinpoint what feels different about tonight. You don’t hear any strange noises, nothing feels unusual, and blinking your eyes open again you raise your head a bit to look around the fire. The rest of the group are circled around the other sides of the heat source, sleeping soundly. You figure that you’re probably just getting used to this routine by now, and your body simply woke up around your usual shift change time on its own.

Still, that doesn’t explain the vague, unplaceable feeling that something is just… off.

You let out a sigh that turns into a yawn as you stretch and roll away from the fire onto your back. Letting your head roll further to the left, your eyes land on the familiar sight of your lover’s back as he sits in his usual position beside you, diligently watching your six.

He’s taken to placing his bedroll right next to yours, insisting that you lie between the fire and himself. You couldn’t really argue with his point that he can’t feel the cold anyways, so there’s no need for him to be the one next to the fire. Nor could you argue with the benefits of having him as a line of defense between you and whatever lurks beyond the reach of the firelight.

The feeling of security and protection that he provides you with is still relatively foreign to you, and a soft smile blooms on your face at the warm feeling it brings. Your smile then falls a bit as you remember the silent question you ask yourself on the regular, of whether or not you provide him with the same.

You roll the rest of the way to your left, and shuffle further toward him, closing what remains of the small gap he’d placed between the two of you. Lying halfway on your bedroll and halfway on his, you curl your body around his seated form, bringing your right arm up and gently placing a hand on the right side of his waist. He flinches slightly, and if this were earlier on in your relationship, you’d retract your hand. He’s long since informed you though that his reaction to unexpected touch is simply involuntary, and as long as it’s you, you’ve no need to pull away.

You recall the quiet, restrained desperation in his voice when he first explained it to you, all but begging you not to pull away. He can’t control the way his body reacts to touch, given that before you, he couldn’t recall the last time being touched meant anything other than pain. In spite of that though, he wants it. He wants you. That’s obvious in the way that he, without fail, immediately relaxes under your gentle touch once his mind and body process that it’s coming from you. The way he’s come to not only relax, but to lean into it. Lean into you.

You’d never push past his boundaries, never in a million years, but he’s made it quite clear after about a thousand of your quiet requests for consent at every minor touch, that he’s entirely welcoming of your non-sexual physical affections. Getting the man to verbally admit that he actually enjoys cuddling with you, without the truth being concealed beneath a heavy layer of playful banter and practiced, honeyed words didn’t come easy, but he came around to it in his own time.

So, you don’t pull back, instead following through with the motion and slowly snaking your arm around his waist. You press your front against his lower back and curl around to rest your left cheek atop his left thigh. You can’t help but notice that he doesn’t relax into you in the way he usually does, and your head turns to the right a bit, struggling to get a half-decent look at his face as you’re both turned away from the fire light.

He remains tense, still, and unresponsive to your movements, gaze seemingly locked dead ahead of him, staring out into the dark forest.

With the warm haze of sleep fading from you, your brow furrows as your right hand presses lightly against his lower abdomen, your thumb sweeping up and down in a small attempt at a comforting motion. You quietly call for his attention, voice still thick with sleep.

“Star? Is everything okay?”

His typically silent breath suddenly hitches, and his head angles down to face you. Now that he’s turned toward the light, you catch the way his eyes shine, and the way the light reflects off of what you quickly realize are tear tracks, running down his cheeks. He’s actively crying, tears dripping from his chin, and now with his head tilted down at you they take a different path, running down to converge and fall from the tip of his nose.

You nearly bolt upright in your shock, quickly unwrapping yourself from him and clambering around on all fours until you’re sat down in front of him, your hands gripping tightly to your upper thighs in worry. His wide-eyed gaze followed your every movement, and even now that you’re sat still in front of him, his eyes still dart around, frantically scanning you, for what, you don’t know.

“What- what’s going on?”

You keep your voice as quiet as you reasonably can in spite of your shock and concern, not eager to wake your companions and have everyone witness… whatever this is.

He doesn’t respond, looking just about as lost as you feel, shaking his head in silence as more tears fall. It’s one hell of a sight, and it suddenly hits you that this is the first time you’ve ever seen him cry.

Unsure of what to do and what even caused this, you resist the urge to wrap him in a hug, not wanting to overstep in this unfamiliar territory. Instead, you glance back over your shoulder and once again see and hear nothing of note before trying another question.

“Is there a threat? Did you see something that scared you, honey?”

He takes a long moment to answer, seeming unsure, before eventually settling on another shake of his head. His lack of confidence in his answer isn’t the most reassuring thing at the moment, but given that you aren’t detecting any danger either, you decide to believe that he really didn’t see any threat. At least, not here. Not right now, in the present moment, in front of him. He seems about halfway here and halfway gone, and if your growing suspicions are correct, he’s probably been sat here lost in the dark corners of his mind for a while now, given the state he’s in.

You catch movement to Astarion’s right side and watch as Karlach raises up from her prior position sprawled out face-down on her bedroll, propping herself up with her forearms beneath her. Her expression of concern is too aware and her eyes are too awake for her to have just now woken up, and you quickly gather that she’s probably been awake and laying there long enough to have heard your questions and Astarion’s lack of any verbal response. She doesn’t say anything though, and doesn’t move, just letting the situation unfold and keeping a watchful eye on the darkness behind you.

Relaxing slightly at the knowledge that someone else is awake and helping to keep watch now, your focus shifts back to Astarion, who’s gaze has moved to his lap, tears still falling fast. It’s almost unsettling, the way he cries. There’s no sound, no movement, his breathing is hardly even affected, nothing more than the occasional shaky breath to give away any sign of struggle at all. You don’t have to guess why it’s like this, given what he’s told you about his past. You’re sadly certain that he learned to cry like this ages ago. Silent and still, sat alone in the dark so no one would notice.

You don’t want to think about the sorts of punishments he’s endured as a result of showing such pain and emotion, but your mind pulls from what experiences he’s shared and offers up a few anyways, making you begin to feel sick.

Leaning down and trying to catch his gaze, you ask another question.

“Astarion, are you with me right now?”

He blinks, more tears spill, and his lips finally part as he responds to you with a strained whisper.

“I’m trying to be…”

You smile in spite of your current emotions and the general mood of the situation, doing your best to be something positive, something gentle, something safe for him to focus on.

“There you are…”

You say it to yourself as much as to him, relieved to finally hear his voice, as laced with pain as it sounds. You hold out your hand near where his lie balled into fists in his lap, offering him contact without forcing it on him.

“I want you to keep trying, okay? Do your best to come back into the present with me. You can take my hand, if you’d like?”

He stares down at your offered hand for a long moment before shakily unballing one of his fists. He hesitates, fingers trembling, before reaching out and placing his hand in yours. His skin is even colder than usual and slightly damp to the touch, and you couldn’t be less put off, or give less of a fuck about the messy state of him right now, or ever, if you’re being honest. You just want to help him, however you can.

You curl your warm fingers around his palm, wanting to pull him into a hug so badly but restraining yourself, letting him call the shots.

“You’re okay now, Star. You’re safe right now, here with me. We’re safe.”

He’s quiet for another long moment as he shuts his eyes tight, taking in your words. His other fist unfurls, and his body trembles almost imperceptibly.

“I… I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”

Your heart breaks.

“Honey, you have nothing to apologize for. Nothing at all, I promise you.”

He shakes his head in disagreement, his voice an insistent whisper.

“I shouldn’t be doing this.”

Your shoulders drop from where they’d been tensely held up, body slumping with a silent sigh as you watch him still try to hold this wall up between the two of you. You’d made it past a number of his walls already, but this one… this one you’ve yet to be granted access behind.

“It’s okay to cry, you know?”

Another shake of his head, this time with far more force behind it, almost vehement.

“No.”

You soften your voice, insisting.

“Yes. It is. You can cry now, Astarion. No one’s gonna hurt you. No one’s gonna judge you. I swear on my life, that’s the truth.”

His breaths become more labored, uneven and shaking.

“You aren’t his anymore. The old rules don’t apply. You can let it out, now. No one, and I mean no one, is going to punish you for it.”

His eyes pinch closed and his head shakes hard side to side, like he’s fighting his own mind, and his hand opens and closes like it wants to grab onto something. He then moves, wrapping his free hand around your arm and suddenly you’re being pulled toward him, desperately, insistently.

You follow the motion as he continues to tug at you, first leaning forward and propping yourself up with your other hand on the ground as he continues to pull you closer. You quickly gather what he wants as he lets go of your hand in favor of latching onto your other arm, pulling you upward, choking back tears all the while.

You raise up on your knees and his hands move once again to hook beneath your arms as you allow yourself to be pulled up onto his lap with physical strength you keep forgetting he possesses. Hooking your legs around his waist, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him into you. His arms wrap tightly around your waist and he buries his face into the fabric of your shirt at the collar, muffling the soft sound of his crying which has now turned to full-blown sobs.

He’s still shockingly quiet in spite of it all, and you imagine it’s a mixture of being unable to let go of what’s ingrained into him, and not wanting to alert the entire camp to his current breakdown.

Your thumbs stroke up and down in place on his back, not wanting to let go of your hold on him but still wanting to give him some sort of comforting motion to focus on. Besides, you figure petting across the entire expanse of his scarred back might do the opposite of calming him down, so you refrain and keep your arms wrapped firmly around him. Turning your head down toward his, you whisper to him in between soft kisses to his temple.

“That’s it, love. Let it out.”

“You’re safe now, Astarion, I swear.”

“There’s nothing wrong with this.”

“I’m so proud of you.”

“You have every right to cry. No one ever should’ve taken that away from you.”

He grips you even tighter as you shower him with painfully unfamiliar affection and acceptance, comfort unlike anything he’s ever felt before in his horribly long life. His forehead presses against your right shoulder as his crying slows, trying to ground himself and catch his breath. You make a point of holding him securely against you, breathing slow and deep to give him an example to follow.

You catch movement in your periphery and glance over at Karlach as she quietly sits up and makes a series of silent lip movements and hand gestures that you don’t entirely grasp. You work them out to mean that she’s gonna take over watch for the rest of the night, and you can rest with Astarion. You send her a grateful look and mouth a “thank you,” to which she waves you off with what you think you read as a silent “don’t mention it” on her lips.

After a short while spent focused on slowing down his breath and bringing him fully out of his memories and back here with you, you whisper quiet words in his ear.

“Your work is done, Astarion. You can rest now.”

You mean it in both possible interpretations of the words, and he seems to understand that, his body finally relaxing against yours for the first time tonight.

“You wanna lie down with me, love?”

He seems like he almost nods, but stops himself, whispering back in an exhausted voice, scratchy and thick from crying.

“Someone has to keep watch.”

You hesitate to inform him that Karlach has already taken over that role for tonight, sure that he’d get no sleep at all if he knew she’d witnessed this. You know you’re gonna be awake watching over him for the rest of the night anyways, so instead, you offer a compromise.

“I can hold you and keep watch at the same time, love. Just… let me sit and you can lay against me.”

He gives the suggestion a moment of thought before nodding his head, reluctantly loosening his hold on you. You maneuver the both of you carefully so as to avoid allowing his tired eyes to catch sight of your obviously awake companion sitting behind him.

It isn’t much of a task considering his eyes are halfway closed already, his only remaining focus locked on you. You settle down at the head of his bedroll, guiding him to lie down and bringing his head to rest in the center of your lap.

Your hands take turns gently combing fingers through his white curls, and you feel his tense shoulders begin to relax at the feeling. You bring a thumb down and gently stroke over the lines creasing his brow, quietly encouraging him to release the tension he likely doesn’t realize he’s holding. You watch him pull in a deep, albeit still slightly unsteady breath, and you can practically feel the relief that washes over him when he exhales.

Words aren’t necessary between the two of you at this point, not in this moment, but you offer him a few anyways, hoping they’ll resonate in his tired mind as he slips into sleep.

“You’re safe here, Star. Rest easy.”

A/N: Like I said in the CWs, I haven't played the game for myself (yet!) so I only know what I've seen in the hours of (mostly Astarion-focused) scenes I've watched on YT. As a result, this might have read a bit funny if I've gotten certain details wrong. For instance- I have no idea how resting at the camp actually goes, whether or not someone keeps watch all night, etc. Also I'm not sure if Astarion even needs to actually sleep or if he meditates/falls into a trance and just calls it sleep, but for the sake of simplicity, (and me being clueless,) when I say he falls into sleep just assume he's doing whatever he'd normally do to rest. On a different note- this little fic was inspired by a combination of two things. The lovely art and additional commentary on this post, by @velnna , and also by me listening to Midnight Hour by Sierra Eagleson on loop for like, an hour, and daydreaming up this specific scene before proceeding to write it out. It is a beautiful song that is now the title and theme-song for this fic, and I encourage you to go give it a listen if you haven't heard it already. Header Image Source: x

#astarion x reader #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #astarion bg3 #bg3 astarion #astarion fic #astarion fanfic #my writing #man. this may be the quickest turnover/turnaround whateverthewordis on a fic that i've ever made happen #i usually sit on an idea and then a draft for ages before posting smthn. so given that it's only been a couple days #between the initial idea and the finished posted fic. wow. groundbreaking speeds for me #the power of hyperfixation (and love) #y'know. i've noticed a trend #why is it that nearly every time i write for a new character the first scenario i place them in involves crying #and having Reader hold/comfort them #i did it with Eddie i did it with Venti i'm doing it with Astarion. who's next. who's next in the Reverse Comfort lineup huh #idk why that's my go-to scenario it just is. maybe i do have a type. (characters that need to have a good cry in their beloved's arms) #or maybe perhaps it is i that needs the good cry and i am projecting. who knows. 'tis a mystery (it's both) #anyways i know this fic is a bit short but i just. had one little specific scene i wanted to write and that's it! #i do plan on making more for him though. i've already got another idea brewing in my brain #also sorry if 'honey' and 'love' aren't your go-to pet names. or if you wouldn't call him Star #my own style of speech heavily influences what i have Reader say in my fics and i can't help itttttt. everything i write is self-insert lma #*lmao (i’m on mobile rn i’m not retyping all of that just to add the last letter) #(yes i’m posting this from mobile cause i took a nap and overslept and missed the time i wanted to post this at. so now i am In A Rush #smthn smthn self imposed deadlines smthn smthn ‘i know the guy that made the rules and he’s a total pushover’ anyways it’s fine. post draft

[shanastoryteller]

*gestures helplessly* i. don't even know

i hope you like it?

TAKE A LONG LINE

Summary:

Steve knows that Tony Stark is going to be a problem from the first line in his file.

Designation: Alpha

#progress report #no progress report bc i was really convinced at any moment i would come to my sense #yes i wrote 30k of omegaverse no i don't know how it happened #and i think both people who like it omegaverse and people who dont like may not like this fic lmao #i just think if something is an ingrained part of society it won't be at the center of every conflict #and so i think there's maybe both too little and too much typical omegaverse content #idk guys it's finished now #so there's that! wheee!

[presiding]

just saw that there's a monster in the hull update and realized i'd missed three of those........this + the audio are such treats giggling and kicking my feet about it fr. going to leave a comment on the fic itself but in the meantime needed to drop a letter on here to say i love the way you write billie--her loneliness, her thoughtfulness, distrust of yet attraction to emily and everything she represents........not to mention the way she's haunted by daud, the longing for a life she can't fathom and will never have !!! society if everyone gave billie the complexity she deserves. and your banter and prose are stunning as always lord everything abt this fic is so good. bringing wine to you on the deck to drink together about it in spirit and yes pun intended

🙏😭 thank you so so much I don't know what to say! that's amazingly kind of you ♥ its a genuine pleasure to like. double down on themes and nuance and less popular characters and just like. idk. trustfall into the fandom that there's people with taste like you, and you can invite them onto your metaphorical deck for wine and meaningful looks 🍷♥♥♥

re: billie - no one else in the dh universe comes close to whatever she has going on

hiding my thoughts about writing dh2 billie >

there's so much material to her!

i thought i'd never write for dishonored 2 (not derogatory - its my favourite game). its undoubtedly linear & doesn't have the mystery or grit of dh1 IMO.

but i saw lapin post that billie & emily comic, and i saw a few other people i respect mention billie/emily and it had me rotating them until the abjection/emily-monster thing clicked and then it was downhill from there

but there's more to think about - what billie has been doing with herself, how she feels about daud & the whalers at this point in her life, her relationship with sokolov (god.a separate rant), her history in karnaca & dunwall, emily's place in the empire and how that fits into billie's story, her lifelong revenge arc, and comparisons between jessamine & deirdre.

like. when you consider billie's perspective you realise how fucking badass she is for going back to dunwall. she not only did it scared she did it scared for her life. suicidal level flimsy disguise trapped in a tin can with your enemy. etc

PLEASE tell me if you ever decide to post that daud & billie fic you mentioned a while back :O

#asks #corpseprince my beloved <333 #thinkin bout your one-day fic. daud and billie are SO difficult to write #not simply father daughter but like. the suicide pact vibes they have and the all consuming nature of dauds bonds #and there's a strong running tension between them #not to mention neither being the type for feelings #the more 'dishonored fandom friendly' fics im working on i've deprioritised recently #yuri on the way <3 there was a deficit anyway! #mostly excited for brigmore smut #if i may bitch on your lovely post (sorry). if you cbf with that stop reading here #idk. it keeps happening #so i post a chapter. maybe get 2 kudos that week #which is nice and i smile every time im stoked to see readers around #but then one or two days later some unpleasant fucko on tumblr has taken one of the ideas i put in the new chapter of my fic #and turned that into a low quality textpost like it was their idea. it gets a heap of notes #and its always a *highly specific* idea after i posted it. and i know what the fandom is talking about broadly so it sticks out #i dont mind at all when its like mutuals or people who have commented or talked to me then its more like 🤝 #like. someone who doesnt appear to have ever interacted with me or the fic #im not trying to flatter myself by saying theres no chance its a coincidence. but its offputting as hell #backhanded signal of success? bestie thats my meta post but you made it worse <3 #so my focus rn is niche-r stuff for smart cool people with taste #THE RAMBLING. *tops up your wineglass if you made it this far*

[beesinspades]

my hot take is that "but aro/aces can be in relationships and/or have sex!" has become the easy excuse for never bothering to for once think and create in fandom about non-sexual and/or non-romantic aro/ace relationships

people most of whom pull out that excuse but never bothered to write these characters' romantic and/or sexual relationships from an aro/ace lense in the first place either. sorry but writing a canon ace character exactly like you would an allo character and then go 'because aces can have sex! :D' when called out for ignoring their aversion to sex is not writing an ace character

idk personally i think taking away an aroace character's canon disinterest in sex and/or romance in the name of shipping is as much in bad taste as making a canonically trans character cis would be. or making a canon lesbian character heterosexual.

'but aroace people can be in romantic and sexual relationsips!' when people whine 'you can't hc this character as aroace bc they like romance/sex!': yes

'but aroace people can be in romantic and sexual relationsips!' when called out for ignoring a character being canonically aroace and disinterested in romance and sex: hehhhh

at the end of the day do what you want! it's not about what you're allowed or not allowed to do it's about y'all giving so much importance to respecting canon rep unless it's sex and/or romance-averse aro/aces. and it fucking stings

i'm not saying it's wrong and you can't do it. I'm just saying it's in bad taste and the double standard is there because if you did that to a canon trans character you'd get ripped to pieces. hell you probably wouldn't do it at all.

fandom being a sex-positive space is great but sex-positivity is also about not wanting sex. fandom being a safe space for queer themes is great but queerplatonic relationships are also queer.

anyway. you've got the whole fucking playground in every single fandom but letting one (1) character be a canonically romance/sex-averse or overall disinterested in romance/sex aroace is just too fucking hard for you apparently

#beelio rants #maybe i didn't word this well and it's all over the place and i've never been very eloquent outside of fanfic but fuck it #i'm not even in the fandom this discourse is happening in but I know. I fucking know that one day it will happen to a future fandom I'm in #signed: an aroace who wants to be in a relationship which may or may not include sex and has written many fics about aces who have sex #i won't answer hate asks so don't bother :)

[nostalgia-tblr]

did i mention here the SHOCK REALISATION that sylki fic is often about Loki emotionally supporting Sylvie and lokius fic is often about Mobius supporting Loki, so if you combine those it seems fandom has an overall heirarchy of How Fucked Up Everyone Is and it goes:

Mobius >> Loki >> Sylvie

There are a few conclusions we could draw from this, mine is that I feel so very sorry for the hypothetical character that fandom would consider fucked up enough to need to be emotionally supported by Sylvie D: THAT POOR BLORBO D: D:

#been squicked out more than once by Loki mansplaining Sylvie's emotions to her in fic tbh :'( #“oh sylvie that is An Emotion you are feeling! i shall protect you from it! you silly goose who doesn't understand her own feelings!” #i think it's mostly just fandom taking “he protecc!!!” a bit too far? #also the common desire to put sylki love confessions in fic but canonically they both suck at that sort of thing so writers go “????” #and she's the MORE closed-off one so it starts there and ends up with Loki mansplaining thc concept of love to her sometimes? #fair enough it's hard to work with “bit cold innit? umm. blanket??? we share blanket?? oh shit what now??????” #also Mobius keeps calling Loki “kitten” in fic who started that and how common is it actually do i just keep happening on it by chance? #sylkius fic where mobius calls them “kitten” and “...weird angry spitting creature i found in a bin??” #also as usual let me complain about the Class Issues or lack of them. it's practically gift-wrapped! and yet! #(suspect a few fic writers may be getting off on those a bit though maybe? just - again - i am occasionally squicked there) #(i know at least one of MY fic-writing Issues is I am on the less sympathetic-about-Loki's-angsty-pain end of the spectrum) #(“YASSSSSSSS belittle the poshboy a bit!! make him cry!!!!”) #loki series

[a-lonely-dunedain]

must a fic "have plot progression" and "a pont"? is it not enough to simply have two guys talk about their feelings alongside a narrator prone to rambling for *checks notes* 6 pages and counting?

#I swear any time I try to write anything literally nothing happens #I mean it's fun for ME to ramble about character's feelings and stuff while literally nothing else happens #but I feel like most would find it boring #breaking news! local woman only knows how to write 1 (one) kind of scene! more at 8 #or never idk this may never see the light of day #in order to employ the 'write like no one's reading' advice I must #always have the mindset that there is a very good chance I will never end up posting what I'm currently working on #it is quite helpful actually. but it's also the reason I only have one published fic #but see this is why I can't Do those WiP ask games bc as far as anyone needs to be concerned I do not have any WiPs #if I tell people about my WiPs that may or may not exist I will then feel under the obligation to post them Eventually #so then I can't 'write like no one's reading' #I'll just get stuck on it but get stressed that it's not getting done bc people are Expecting It and I can't disappoint anyone or I'll DIE #or something like that #Schrödinger's WiPs. the WiP that may or may not exist. you will only know about it if Taz ever ends up posing it in it's entirety #(that is not to say I mind being tagged in those WIP ask games! I am flattered to be thought of for those!) #(and who knows maybe one of these days I'll get over this weird hangup and feel comfortable posting about WiPs when prompted) #(only time will tell) #Taz's foray into writing

[fortune-maiden]

Random TGCF thing I really want to write but probably never will:

At the Rain Master's farm, SQX refuses to go with Pei Ming and stays behind while the rest go to save the fishermen/let SWD know his brother is safe (but refusing to meet with him)

He Xuan completes his revenge. The Water Tyrant falls and SQX becomes a drifter. Guilt and regret weigh down his heart but "Ming Yi", his best friend, is there to help him through it...

it's a horror story :D

#random tgcf thoughts #the best friend at your side; letting you find out a truth and giving you a way out #and never letting you know the whole truth.... #the other version of this scenario i've toyed with (and partly written) is that sqx does learn that ming yi was hx all along afterwards #but he learns it through others. never sees my again. no closure #but i like the horror story version more xD #i think realistically though if sqx hadn't gone to swd hx wouldn't appear to him again either way #hx may be a vengeful ghost king but he's still a very righteous person (if you're not named ming yi) #i don't think he's someone who could kill his friend's brother and then maintain the friendship as though nothing had happened #aaah i do kind of want to write this now! the sqx chooses to stay in yushi but hx & swd pov #honestly i imagine swd would be extra smug in their confrontation now because his brother's safety has already been guaranteed #he has no reason to care what happens to him #(sorry hx you're not getting a satisfying revenge in this version either) #...........maybe it should be a time loop story #hx gets revenge on swd over and over but in any scenario where sqx lives its not satisfying (because swd is a dick about it) #but any scenario where sqx dies is also not satisfying (because hx doesn't like it) #(and this has become a why option 1 was the only good revenge option and why are there no fics about it xD)