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fukashiin · 1 year

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how they admire you from afar

— w. ace, deuce, floyd, kalim, jamil

⤷ times when they stare at you and think "wow theyre pretty"

ACE TRAPPOLA

- you? beautiful? him staring at you because of it?

- audacious. seriously

- he stares at you so much and he hates YOUR guts for it somehow

- like why do you have to look so breathtaking when doing the most ordinary of tasks? do you WANT him to stare at you? (not like you’re aware of how much he does anyway)

- and you miss the salty side eye he gives to the previous person you were talking to

- fail to notice the subtle pouts he sends your way and he ignores you back for the next week

- like literally what is his problem

- but the time he spends trying to “ignore” you doesn’t last for long

- because. you don’t know. how beautiful you are in his eyes.

- scribbles the most illegible notes down in his journal back in his dorm because he just can’t get rid of the sight of your face (no human is supposed to be that pretty. he’s just being ridiculous)

- posts weirdly ominous captions on his magicam stories about how “he’s going to lose it” or “how can someone be THAT blind?”

- he removed you from his close friends just so you couldn’t view it

- and he’s still wondering why you aren't taking the hint? ace please wake up you're going to harvard

- the next day is his basketball tournament. you were invited

- and the moment he was about to shoot the ball through the basket, he saw you amongst the crowd, cheering for him, yelling his name, encouraging him to score a point for NRC’s team

- he misses the shot with his hand a centimeter away from the basket and the ball bounces off the ring

- the whistle blows and the tension falls off of everyone’s shoulders

- he’s not ashamed in the least. in fact he was still focusing on you. why did you look so confused? head tilted and everything? now is not the time to distract him when he’s in a tournament you know? this is a very important day for him and he absolutely cannot miss this shot.

- he comes back to his senses when both teams that were competing against each other disappeared from the ring. only turns out it was time to take a break and he was informed of his foolish mistake

- he sees you running up to him, scoffs, and turns away

- why do you have to put him through so much? just when will you notice his dumb advances towards you?

- but all his thoughts dissipate into thin air when you smile at him so sweetly and reassure him that he’ll do better the next round

- he really hates you

- and he’s really down bad for you

DEUCE SPADE

- no. he can’t accept this. he won’t accept this. what happened to his first priority to become NRC’s notable honour student?

- stage 1: denial

- his gaze settles on you entirely, while you’re taking notes in class and you’re unaware of a hungry gaze that burns into the back of your head

- deuce then realises that he’s been balancing on the front two legs of his seat this entire time

- slips and hits his chin directly on the edge of the desk when mr. crewel calls out his name

- pull out the bandages with my melody characters cutely printed onto them, he’s going to need it

- but when your hands come in contact with his skin

- he absolutely

- FOLDS

- “let me bandage it up for you” you said. “i promise it won’t hurt one bit” you SAID

- stares at you the whole time while you’re focused on cleaning his bruise (caused by you)

- he takes notice of the bandages and feels the childish tears pricking at his eyes (caused by you)

- mutters a weak ‘thank you’ once you’re done and when you push your hair back to get rid of the accumulated sweat on your forehead, he feels an arrow shooting right through his heart

- can he blame you? everything you do is just so seemingly flawless and attractive that he can’t help but wonder if he’s truly worthy of your attention. after all, you are aware of his past

- spams his mother’s phone once he’s back at the dorm in the evening, telling her that there’s this person who’s so drop-dead gorgeous that he can’t get them out of his mind and he’s begging her, asking her what he should do with such unfamiliar feelings that poke at his heart

- except ms spade was probably dealing with a workload that evening and had her notifications off for the entire day (and probably forgot in the process so she’s worried about his son not texting her for one whole day)

- they’re bothj so silly

- the next couple of days fly by, same as ever, with deuce admiring your features at the other side of the table while you help wipe the crumbs off of grim’s face during lunch

- his entire thought process was just about how dreamy you were, he’s so lovestruck it’s insane

- and great seven does he thank them above for being able to live this day

- because you suddenly remembered that your fridge back at ramshackle dorm was out of stock

- so you offered deuce this golden opportunity to head to sam’s store together to help shop for missing groceries that you desperately needed to fill your fridge again

- he snaps out of his own thoughts and nods his head. violently. was he trying to mimic those bobble head figures?

- you were content and looked at him with that killer-smile

- instant K.O

- ace watches from the sidelines and gets up to purchase another deluxe steak hamburger that the cafeteria was handing out for a limited time

FLOYD LEECH

- completely ditches his work at mostro lounge just to sit at the booth you’re at to stare at you

- he doesn’t even say anything

- he just stares

- maybe even twirls a lil strand of your hair if you consent to that

- and he’s completely head-over-heels for you. but who knows that other than jade and azul thanks to their gifted intuition? not you, for all they know

- absolute menace

- casually slings an arm around your shoulders, wrap his arms around your waist from behind-he does all of these and starts a countdown out of nowhere for the person that you were conversing with to get away from the two of you

- you: (　ﾟдﾟ) Floyd: (*^ω^*)

- what’s that about personal space??? yeah he has zero idea of what that is while he continues staring at you

- your lips to be specific.

- every part of you just seems so-pretty? whenever you two have mixed classes together all his thoughts go right through the window and you’re the only thing that his eyes see

- leaves the classroom feeling pretty goofy. slacks his arms behind his head and accidentally whacks a student right in the face with his elbow

- hallway chases are nothing new

- you have to run twice as fast as you do in PE

- he justt thinks you’re so cute the nicknames are endless

- “my adorable shrimpy” “my cutesy little sherbet in a cup” “my one and only mike wazowski”

- they’re not even related to sea animals anymore

- revoke his pet name privileges please

KALIM-AL-ASIM

- smitten the moment he makes eye contact with you

- menace number #2 (lovingly)

- what’s wrong? you don’t want a costly chandelier installed in ramshackle’s lounge? Funny! kalim does not bother and your complaints fall on deaf ears

- cups his cheeks in his hands and kicks his legs while he watches you from afar like a little high school girl

- he has a big fat crush on you and he isn’t afraid to show it

- INSISTS jamil that they should bring back every traditional cuisine from their hometown for you to try out

- sends unprofessionally written love letters onto ramshackle’s doorstep when he’s away for the holidays (jamil modified some parts of the letter to not make it too hard to understand)

- think his only love language is giving gifts? absolutely not. doesn’t even know what the five love languages are but masters them all (and it doesn't even take him any strenuous effort)

- rambles to jamil about how beautiful you are during lunch. proceeds to even make an hour-long powerpoint presentation to show to his 30 younger siblings back at home with low-quality images downloaded from shutterstock.

- “how pretty are they?” “are you two going to get married?” “can i see them in person some time? I’ll be nice!”

- no you did NOT give him permission. but you’re okay with that. you love him too much to scold him anyway<333

- one time you were invited to scarabia’s dorm where they were holding a large banquet (kalim sat beside you and mindlessly kept placing portions of food from the table onto your own plate-it started overflowing you HAD to stop him from grabbing the tongs)

- by the time everything was settled, you went back to your own dorm to get a goodnight’s rest

- but kalim was so adamant on not letting you go that a student from his dorm basically had to rip him off of your figure

- he loves you and your cute face so much

- scratch that he loves everything about you from head to toe

- when he was back in his room daydreaming about you, he heard the door burst open

- turns out it was jamil needing to inform him about the upcoming dorm leader meeting happening the next day

- kalim accidentally called him “teddy bear” thinking it was you who decided to come back and give him a farewell kiss

- jamil took his first shot that day

JAMIL VIPER

- jamil viper is not like the other guys

- no he’s different

- he stubbornly pushes all his surfacing feelings down and outwardly ignores the elephant in the room!

- which is his abrupt crush on you

- but seriously-he has no idea what to do

- when you offered to help him make dishes for the next dorm feast scarabia was having

- he couldn’t stop staring at the way your hands handled the kitchen utensils so effortlessly

- and how you looked so laser focused on chopping the ingredients with beads of sweat starting to form on your forehead

- he’s DEFINITELY not into you at all. there’s nothing outstanding about you. he does not think you’re even pretty in the least. (press X to doubt)

- kalim takes notice frustratingly quick and suddenly he’s not a dorm leader anymore but a persuasive wingman

- kalim: you like them right??? do you want me to confess to them for you???? i promise i wont make you look stupid!

- jamil: PLEASE STO

- but when you start to become aware of the subtle signs and how he’s much more softer when it comes to you, jamil assures you that you had no fault in this at all and he’s stupid for letting such affection get to his head

- “It’s not you, it’s me.”

- (he secretly tells himself that it is kind of you because you’re just too charming to take his eyes off of??? inflexible much)

- but he still continues to stare at you. he doesn’t even know if it’s out of pure habit or if he’s just shameless anymore (news flash: it’s both)

- throw your personality into the mix and he’s very much in love

- and you were kind enough to not pay mind to it. when you do notice and call him out-he’s flushed. he’s flustered. bro ascended.

- and when you do accept his feelings, he’s relieved. he even offers to cook for you every day 24/7. and you’re rather surprised at his ability to balance all his responsibilities on his shoulders without a single slip up.

- sometimes kalim would walk with you guys in the hallway when arriving to your locker to pick up some books for your next lesson. jamil doesnt particularly mind but

- why does it feel like he’s the one who’s third wheeling?

- but in all honesty, he doesn’t mind in the least

- because he knew that you reciprocate his feelings so sincerely-and he’s grateful for it.

- mega W if you start dating jamil you won in life

#i had way too much fun writing this #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst imagines #ace trappola x reader #deuce spade x reader #floyd leech x reader #kalim al asim x reader #jamil viper x reader #ace trappola #deuce spade #floyd leech #kalim al asim #jamil viper

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noxious-fennec · 18 days

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3 years and I'm STILL IN THE FUCKING BUILDING... unbelievable... anyway happy re-bday to my pathetic cringefail politician

Alt ver. under the cut

***Massive disclaimer: i do not support the cc this is strictly about the fictional character

#cwilbur #c!wilbur #dsmp fanart #my art #woah hi hello how's it going #still in this hellhole i couldn't claw my way out my fingernails are too short #still had to do smth for this guy i mean cmon. major influence over my life for years #speaking of which hey major redesign. you know why.#nothin much to say. random outfit. face based on gregory peck tho it's not rly clear here #lives tattoos i thought were fun. tried to make the revived life look like a shitty stick n poke dont know if that reads well #aro ring but on the wrong finger whoops. dont care enough to fix it #anyway hope you enjoy :p fangs for sticking around xoxo #OH and first time writing an image desc. hope it was good!! ik its like a mile long but idk how to be any more concise #fennec.art

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buckttommy · 18 days

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If there would be a tommy begins episode, what would you like to see?

I have waited... my entire life for this moment.

Sorry, I'm about to answer this question in the most Jack way possible. Strap in, I'm about to enter my director era. Okay, let's get to it.

Tommy Begins (Jack's Version)

Opening scene: We see a kid (8yo) playing with Legos on his bedroom floor. His room is very much so a boy's room—there are dinosaurs and dragons and a soccer ball in the corner—but it's very sparse. This family is not wealthy by any stretch of the imagination. He's building a car, and beyond his closed bedroom door, you can hear muffled shouting. It's his mom and dad. The boy stops playing with his toys and listens as a door slams downstairs (his mom leaving) and heavy footsteps come up the stairs. He's already scooting backwards when the door opens and his father stands in the doorway. He's visibly drunk, and the camera is angled at Tommy's height so that the man in the doorway looks scary and imposing. (We're really leaning into the visuals here). So his dad looks at him and says, "Tommy, were you eavesdropping?" He wasn't, of course, but it doesn't matter because his dad is already undoing his belt (to beat him, not for anything else!!). Little Tommy continues to scoot backwards as his father comes into the room, and closes the door behind him. Before the door closes and the light from the hallway is shut out, we get a shot of the man's shirt—his father is an auto mechanic and the name Kinard is stitched into his clothing.

Similar to 5x17, where Jonah is introduced as a random little boy before the narrative makes the connection as to who he really is, this is the point where the audience realizes, oh, this isn't just any Tommy, this is our Tommy. And he's about to get his ass beaten.

Oh shit.

And then the 9-1-1 title card appears.

Now, all the begins episodes parallel past with present, so in my head, Tommy is off-work. Buck is moving in that day (this isn't a Buck/Tommy focused episode at all, but Buck is the vehicle for this episode to happen) and Tommy needs to finish going through his stuff to make room for him. He comes across a large box in the back of his closet that's stuffed with all his random keepsakes. He reaches into the box and pulls out a small Rubik's cube on a keychain.

The next scene flashes back to the past. We see Tommy as a teenager, getting into trouble with his idiot friends. They're all high as kites, and one of his friends overdoses on [drug]. He notices—he's the only one that notices, actually—and tells one of his other friends to call 9-1-1. They don't because they're kids, there are drugs involved, and they're stupid, so Tommy calls 9-1-1. He follows the operator's instructions and stays on the line until the paramedics get there. He accompanies his friend to the hospital and someone—a cop who is familiar with him, from having plucked him out of trouble a handful of times—waits with him. He tosses Tommy a Rubik's cube (the same one from the box) so that he can keep his mind occupied. His friend is okay, but the cop is like, "Listen, kid. One day, that's going to be you and one day, it's not going to turn out so well. You've got to straighten up or end up dead." Basically, the whole thing is kind of a wake up call. Before the scene changes, we see Tommy look up and look toward a container of pamphlets on the hospital wall. One of the pamphlets has a soldier on it. In his hand, the Rubik's cube has been completed.

In the present, Tommy continues going through his belongings. This is a dense episode, so we're not going to linger too much on what's happening in the present because it's secondary to what's going on in the past, but Buck and Tommy are texting. Buck is excited and has no idea the turmoil that is going on in his boyfriend's head. Tommy matches his enthusiasm (and it's genuine) but also takes a lot of effort at the moment. Still he smiles a little before he puts the phone down and continues digging through the box. Next, he withdraws his dog tags (and if it isn't obvious by now, the items in the box parallel with the next flashback because these are memories that are actively being triggered while the audience watches).

So, the next scene is obviously back to Tommy's time in the Army. Now, ideally, this would be a ninety-minute episode and I'd have the time to explore all the layers of Tommy's time in the service, but, alas, the boundaries of network television. In my head, most of Tommy's trauma comes from his childhood rather than his time in the Army anyway (which isn't to say it doesn't exist, just that it's not at the forefront of his issues) so we're going to have to gloss over that a bit. When we see him again, he's already in the Army, already well into his career, and the audience can see that he's shaped up and matured quite well. He's well-liked and good at what he does.

He's doing repairs on a helicopter when his CO approaches him and asks where he's going and what he's going to do after he's discharged. Tommy looks across the [hangar] and the camera pans to a a young man. He's in his 20s. Handsome in a boyish way. He's already looking at Tommy, but he looks sad and guilty and hesitant. They meet each others eyes and stare just a bit too long to be casual, and there is a lot of unspoken feeling between the two of them. Their relationship, such as it was during the DADT era, is heavily implied and it does not have a happy ending. Tommy looks back at his CO and says he's headed back home to Los Angeles. As for the rest, he doesn't know what he'll do after he leaves, but he'll figure it out as it comes to him. When he looks up at the guy, he's already gone. It's kind of a metaphor for the way the things he wants always seem to slip away.

In the present, Tommy is still going through his stuff. He unearths an old Academy shirt, so the next scene is his first day at the 118.

Tommy doesn't know it yet, but this is the first day of the rest of his life. Immediately, seeing those walls and doors fills the viewer with a sense of peace. Finally he's where he's supposed to be. He learns on his first day what type of boys club the 118 is under Gerrard. He's visibly uncomfortable (visibly to the viewer, who knows him well enough by now to read his face, but not to the old guard) the first time someone makes a homophobic joke. But he laughs and joins in, aware of but refusing to acknowledge the fact that they are making jokes at his expense. Just like that, he's accepted.

We see him assimilate quickly; the 118 goes on several calls. Not necessarily a montage, but we don't linger on the calls either except for a big fire. He saves Sal DeLuca and is rewarded with lots of accolades and praise. Tommy is one of the "in-crowd" and things are going well. But then Chimney shows up and Hen shows up shortly after. We all know how this plays in canon, so we don't linger too long on the times when Tommy is a dickhead but we do understand, from his perspective, that he has disdain for Hen and Chim—not because he's racist but because their existences threaten to dismantle this bubble of safety he's built around himself at the 118. The goal isn't to make the audience dismiss his complicity, but rather make them understand why he made the choices he made.

Because I am self-indulgent, there is one additional scene right before Tommy leaves for Harbor, where he and Hen are sitting in the locker room. She asks if he's going to miss it. He says he doesn't know, then he pauses and says "Kind of." There are lots of mixed feelings here. He suffocated himself in the closet within these walls and became someone he did not recognize, someone who went along with things rather than fight against the status quo, but he also learned how to breathe and exist a little freely once Gerrard left and Bobby took his place. He got his first taste of what it looks like to be Queer and proud within these walls, and that means something to him.

He looks at Hen and there are so many things he'd like to say to her that he doesn't know how to articulate, mostly because he cannot yet articulate them to himself. He's getting to that point but he's not there yet, so when she asks why he's looking at her like that, he just says "Thank you." "For what?" "For showing me another way." (This, of course, has a double meaning: first, referencing the idea that Hen/Chim showed him another way to be a firefighter, to be a family, to be a human being, and second, referencing the fact that Hen showed him another way to be Queer—showed him that Queerness doesn't have to be filled with self-hatred and pain. It can just... be... and people can either accept it, or they don't). Hen gets the sense that there's a lot he's not saying, a lot under the surface that she's not privy to, but she says "You're welcome."

The next scene is Tommy at Harbor, and the moment he gets there, the viewer can see a weight slip off his shoulders. He's back where he belongs—back with the mechanics, back with the big toys that make him feel at ease. It's a direct parallel to Buck's first meeting with the 118 (not for any Buck/Tommy purposes, just because I love a good narrative parallel) where Bobby pranks him. But Tommy smiles when they bust his balls, and settles into himself, and the viewer can see that he's okay. Things might not be perfect—he might not be perfect—but he's on the right track to being the person the audience will know and love in a few short seasons.

Back in the present, Tommy is pulled out of his walk down memory lane by the sound of his front door opening. Buck is standing on the other side with an overly large box in his hands. Tommy helps him carry it in, and offers to get the rest of his stuff from the Jeep, but Buck waves him off. He studies his face for a long moment, and asks if Tommy is alright. Tommy opens his mouth to answer and discovers, almost shockingly, that he is. He is alright. Maybe he wasn't a couple minutes ago. Maybe those items from the past dredged up memories that were best left forgotten. But he's here now, in this moment with his boyfriend, and he's fine. He's survived a lot. He's grown a lot. He's happy. So he smiles and he says yes, yes he's alright, and he kisses Buck, who also smiles, deeply. The doors close, implying sexytimes and Tommy closing the door on all the chapters of his life that have led him to this place, where he's now ready to embrace and walk into his future.

aaaaand SCENE :) the end.

#I had WAY too much fun with this #Oh my god.#TIM GET ME IN THE WRITING ROOM QUICK!!!!!!!!!!#tommy kinard #tv: 911 #bucktommy #(but only slightly)

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scificrows · 9 months

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Okay, my brain refuses to think about anything other than Murderbot, so I looked at every use of the word "friend[s]" in TMBD and... created some pie charts. Normal human activities.

Some Thoughts™ I had while putting this together (under the cut):

In All Systems Red, Murderbot notes that the PresAux crew are all close friends (twice! and goes on to explain their internal relationships which I think is very cute). This is pretty much the only use of 'friends' in ASR, except for when Murderbot says that SecUnits can't be friends with each other.

It seems that this may be one of the first times Murderbot has ever really been around a group of friends before? Murderbot notes that this is not the norm for its contracts and admits that the fact that they are all friends and the way they interact with each other make it actually enjoy that contract (before!!!! the hostile attack, so it already enjoys this contract before they start seeing it as a person etc ghghhhh). [Inference: Friendship seems enjoyable.]

The first character that calls Murderbot its friend is ART in Artificial Condition. Murderbot immediately refutes this (and then goes on to call ART its friend to its clients for the rest of the book). [Inference: Maybe ART is Murderbot's friend. And maybe that is... agreeable]

Rogue Protocol has more than twice as many instances of the word 'friend' as any of the other novellas. Why? Miki. Friendship and its implications for non-humans are a central theme because Miki is friends with everyone. Murderbot initially scoffs at the notion that Miki and Miki's humans are friends. At the end of the book, after witnessing how desperately Don Abene tried to stop Miki from trying to save them, and her grief after its death, Murderbot has to admit that she had in fact been Miki's friend. [Inference: Humans can be friends with bots and can sincerely care about them]

In Exit Strategy, Murderbot tentatively uses the word "friends" for its humans for the first time (several times actually). It questions whether it can actually call them its friends or not and later realizes that it had been afraid what admitting that the humans are its friends would do to it. At the end of the book, Mensah tells Murderbot the PresAux crew are its friends, which is the first time a human has directly said that to it (at least on-page). [Inference: Humans can and want to be Murderbot's friends]

In Network Effect, Murderbot seems to be more habituated to the word 'friend', confidently calling ART and Ratthi its friends, like it is no longer just trying the concept on unsure if it fits. There are many instances in which other characters refer to MB as ART's friend or the other way around and Murderbot's humans refer to Murderbot as their friend several times. Generally, there seems to be less hesitancy, because yes, all of them are Murderbot's friends, why wouldn't they be. [Inference: SecUnits can have friends. This SecUnit has friends. They care about it a lot.]

Conclusion: The Murderbot Diaries tell the story of a construct that does not seem to consider the possibility of friendship for itself and is fine with that - until it accidentally starts caring a little too much and suddenly more and more people annex it as a friend (ew) to the point where it can no longer deny that this is happening and has to begrudgingly admit that yes, it has friends now and maybe that is actually not a bad thing.

#the murderbot diaries #murderbot #𓄿 #hi i'm READY to write a thesis about murderbot i am having way too much fun with this #i created a pretty excel spreadsheet and everything #i don't know why i did this but now i can look at them while i think about this more! so i figured i'd share them haha #i didn't count uses of 'friendly' but special shoutout to when MB is all alone in its cold cubicle missing 20% of its body mass #and starts putting on a show because 'the friendly noise would keep it company' 😭😭#i feel sick thinking about murderbot all alone on its own not knowing what its like to have friends watching media for 'the friendly noise'#also YES okay i wanted to make a point about miki there but i just #couldn't bring myself to talk about that more so... yeah #also uhhh this data is very subjective #i didn't count particularly ironic uses of 'friend' and generally did not count every instance of friend and sometimes it was a hard call #also i probably shouldn't have counted the times murderbot refered to drones or secsystems as its friends (often after hacking them)#but murderbot does seem to care about them and shows kindness and respect and sometimes points out that a system is friendly #so while i don't think MB means “friend” in the same way referring to them as when it refers to ART for instance #i still think its CUTE and also kinda funny how many times that happened so i decided to keep those!!!#but yeah take my data with a grain of salt lol

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sysig · 7 days

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Blood sugar levels (Patreon)

#Doodles #ISaT #Siffrin #And implied Isa and Mira from offscreen but it's fine lol #Kinda sorta spoilers in the tags be warned #Man these poses were fun to draw - hand poses and body and ah <3 Fun!#This was one of those comics that came to me pretty much fully formed and then I had to do it - it was very fun which I'm very glad for!#Probably the funnest were the first - third - and fourth panels :D #The way their cloak falls around them ah pretty <3 #That big spooky eye hidden under the brim of their hat <3 #That one was really fun to edit too :D Writing [FAILURE] elsewhere on the page and then overlaying it :) Fun!#I wonder if Siffrin would die of starvation faster than normal due to the [redacted]#And since that would kill him it'd make him loop back - even tho it's also somewhat powered by food?#It's curious! I like it :)#I imagine his innate magic also powers it somewhat but hmmm recursive #Not that he died here anyway :) One of those fun ones before Loop spells it out for him :)#I have to wonder if All those loops we don't get to see are mundane hmm ♪ How many of them are forced out of Sif's mind so we as the player #Will just never know ♪ I suppose we'll never know! Haha #The exhaustion of having to keep his body running it's really the depression simulator #Sif :( They're gonna worry about you anyway!#It's amazing what our minds just refuse to process when we're in The Sads™ haha

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cerise-on-top · 3 months

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Hugging, Kissing and Cuddling HCs for König

I'm trying to see him in another light again after everything I've seen about him, so I decided I'd write something fluffy and nice for him. And then came the realization I never wrote some HCs like these for him in my original posts, so I decided I'd change that! He's Austrian, so naturally I have to love him!

When it comes to hugging someone, König is a bit hesitant. Considering he’s not the most physically affectionate person out there, it’s almost an honor to be receiving an unprompted hug from him. Whether his hugs are long or short depends on the occasion: If he’s proud of you for accomplishing something, then the hug will be rather short lived. Though, he might pick you up and spin you around until you’re dizzy. If you’re sad and need some comfort then his hugs could last a while. He’s not the best with words, he prefers to listen to other people, but if he knows a hug is what usually helps you then he’s willing to do so. Despite being a big and strong lad his hugs are surprisingly gentle, he’s worried about crushing you. He could put his all into them, but then you’d likely end up with a few broken ribs and he doesn’t want that to happen. König is also surprisingly warm, so receiving a hug from him is a rare, but nice experience. Although he does go rigid at the beginning, not knowing what to do, but relaxes into the hug eventually.

Again, he’s not a very physically affectionate person, but isn’t opposed to the occasional peck on the cheek or on your lips either. There is some anxiety whether you’d actually want a kiss from him or not, so he doesn’t kiss you very often, even if you do reassure him that it’s quite alright. He’s a bit tense at first when he presses a kiss to your lips, but calms down eventually. It’s especially bad during the beginning of your relationship, but he’s since gotten better at being calm about it. Since there’s a good chance he’s taller than you he loves giving you a kiss on the forehead. It’s a small but sweet gesture. He doesn’t need to bend down entirely to reach you but he still gets to be affectionate with you. However, if you’re on the taller side, or just as tall as he is, then he’d love to receive kisses to his temple from you. It makes him smile every time you do it. If he’s in the mood for receiving a kiss then he’ll lay his head on your shoulder and nudge you a bit. Or try to get his head in your closer vicinity. Kind of like that one bunny video where the bunny stretches to receive some kisses.

Cuddles with him are a bit more common than hugs actually. However, he refuses to lay down on top of you. If you’re shorter and weaker than him then there’s no chance he’ll put his weight on you, he’s just that afraid of hurting you. If you’re taller or just more muscular, then he might, but he’s still a rather heavy lad. Most he’ll do is put his head on your shoulder while you’re cuddling in bed and are both lying down. Although it’d be a lie to say he doesn’t want to be held. König is alright with being the one to hold you, but sometimes he would prefer to be the little spoon as well. That urge gets especially bad if you’re roughly the same size as him. Sometimes just nuzzling into your chest does the trick for him as well, though. Loves it when you run your fingers through his hair as he does so. Another thing he adores is you sleeping on his chest as he holds you. He gets to hold you close, he gets to protect you and he gets to doze off a bit himself, it’s bliss to him. Sometimes he leans down to press a kiss to your head and accidentally wakes you up like that. He feels bad about it and apologizes profusely, but does chuckle a bit when he sees your disheveled hair and your tired expression that shows you just woke up.

#cod #cod x reader #konig #könig #konig x reader #könig x reader #he actually kind of scares me these days even if I don't want that to happen in the slightest so I'm trying to desensitize myself again #I know people always joke about fanon könig vs canon könig but I think I will write him a bit softer with his s/o again #just to combat all those awful things I've seen about him that I don't want to be true and that I also want to forget about #könig is a big lad so I knew from the beginning I wanted him to be good at hugging because this is self indulgent #I feel like if it weren't for his anxiety he'd be much much cuddlier #because that's the case with me even if I have other things going on as well #and what is a funny character you write about if not another piece of yourself?#I've put so much of myself into some of these characters and yet people keep requesting them so I must be doing something right #it's more fun that way as well when you put your characters through something you've gone through. more relatable too #but I think that's something pretty much every writer does. that's why some requests are so difficult to write #I got one about marrying Laswell and Nikolai and that was a difficult request for me because the last wedding I went to #was my parents' and that was almost 18 years ago. man time flies I was 4 years old back then #so naturally I don't remember much either. But I tried and that's what's important!#either way please enjoy this piece of fluff I wrote today!

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genericpuff · 3 months

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vent post

#and before anyone who hates my shit says “yeah because you ARE a loser way to have self awareness for once”#i promise you this would be me with or without the LO fandom LMAO #anxiety is a hell of a thing #and as much as i internally guilt myself into thinking it would be better if i just shut up and hid away forever #i also know that's the trauma speaking because the adults around me always told me to shut up #and even as an adult i still encounter people who talk over me and make me feel like i'm not allowed to be outspoken #but the pen is mightier than the sword and all those years i've spent being spoken over i've been honing my penmanship #i have fun talking about the things i talk about and i don't have any less right than anyone else to do it #i am cringe and i am free #self post #vent post #altho on another note i do wanna make time this week to go find new series to read #too many of my favorites have turned to shit and it's taken its toll #i KNOW there are better comics out there that are genuinely well made #i already have a few that i'm reading that i love but i need to balance out the good with the bad more lol #i just need to take the time to go find good stuff instead of pouring so much of my attention into the bullshit that doesn't deserve my tim #i think both things can be true #i can have a lot of fun dissecting and writing about series i don't like #while also nourishing myself with good works that restore my faith in this medium #“perfectly balanced as all things should be”

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willowser · 7 months

Text

one thousand lonely stars, hiding in the cold—

android!shouto x reader

wc: 2k+

tags: angst, cyberpunk dystopian setting, financial vulnerability, explicit language, minor mention of sex work + sex workers, reader has strong/conflicting feelings about their situation, and — as always — the question of true humanity.

notes: what a great opportunity this was for me to continue exploring this idea !! tysm to @shoto-brainrot for not only giving me the chance, but also for being such a support and helping me to figure out all this commission jazz !! i so appreciate you, and i hope you enjoy it ! 🩷

original post

You’ve yet to find out what caused the damage to Shouto’s faceplate.

By the time you discovered him outside the credit exchange, he had been busted open and left for—whatever the equivalent of dead is for an android. A gaping hole in the left side of his disturbingly human face exposed his inner circuitry to the rain and you think that should have finished him off, truly, but—he's still kicking.

Technology in the lower district is distinct. The most careful hands could have crafted him down in the best underground salvage yard and he still wouldn't have lasted half an hour with his face submerged in a shallow mud puddle like that. Wiring would have been shot, fuses blown.

Even if the Todoroki Corporation symbol on his wrist wasn't glowing, a blinking light in time with his would-be heart, you'd know what he is. You'd know he didn't belong down here, beneath the smog, in the industrial bones of your dying city.

And yet—

The left side of Shouto's face took the brunt of whatever blow he'd been dealt, and the scarring—if it's even called that?—has extended down over his cheekbone and backward, so violently that his ear had only barely been hanging on. Without the bandage you've wrapped him up in, he's quite a sight: half a tangled mess of wires and pins, a dull cyan light glowing in his orbital socket. With the wrapping, however, he’s almost exactly as he was meant to be: seamless.

The fate of his detached ear had been unknown. Until this morning.

It still works, much to your surprise, learning so only after wondering aloud the whereabouts of your data docket and hearing Shouto answer from across the apartment. Whoever put him together, you realize, took great care to make him durable, adamantine; the carbon nanotubes and polymer arrays that make up his cochlea were hardly affected by the assault.

Someone—or something—meant to harm him, and you know that for certain, now. Such wreckage couldn’t have happened naturally, not to a Skin-Puppet like him.

(When you look at him, you can’t help but consider his creator. How far he is from them and why. If the hands that made him and the hands that ruined him are the same, if he meant to leave or if he was cast out. You haven’t asked, but it’s odd that a machine could keep such information to himself—itself.)

(Given the brutality behind his mutilation, perhaps it’s best you don’t know the answers.)

Working tech from the richer district—KōkyōLuxuria, above the smog, built high into the clouds—could not only earn you enough to eat this week, but also to pay off all your debts to the League. Maybe even finance a decent apartment a few stories up.

And that’s why you’re here: racing through the slums in the rain, doing your damndest to make this sale before time runs out and you’re forced to find another buyer. Coming across a Hack with 1,640,254 credits in their docket is rare; who knows when you’ll find someone from the Trade in Musutafu sector again? You’re likely to sooner perish—either from your empty stomach or that broker that demanded payment two days ago.

Shouto, however, doesn’t see the urgency.

“Hello, handsome! Awful cold out tonight…care to warm me up?”

“Oh, hello.”

At the even, all-too-friendly lilt in his voice, you halt your sprint again, and spin around with a hiss. “Shouto!” You snap—but it comes too late; the Entertainers have struck like lightning, already scrambling his code.

Out of habit, you’d pulled the hood of his sweatshirt up over his head before leaving the apartment, and now the material separates his image from view—though you can easily imagine the pleasant expression showing on his face, illuminated in pink under the NanotechNymph advertisement.

At his easily captured interest, two women strut from the open doors of the low-lit den, all allure and swaying hips, mirage flickering beneath the heavy rain. They only meet him halfway—too far from the emanator deep within the club—and you dash forward to stop him from wordlessly accepting their offer. You can’t afford to owe anyone any more than you already do.

“Shouto,” you say again, mouth twisting when he looks at you simply. Despite the hood, his bandage grows dark from the rain and—despite his framework, worry fluxes in your stomach at the thought of him getting too wet. “We have to go.”

“Aww,” an Entertainer says to you, girlish pout pulling down her full lips. “You don’t want to come inside and play with us?”

“No,” you try not to look at them any longer, just in case that racks up a charge, too. Rock solid as he is, Shouto allows himself to be steered away, much to your relief. “Buzz off, holo-ham.”

“I’d like to play.” Shouto pipes up, peeking behind his shoulder when the girls squeal in excitement. “Can we come back once we’ve finished?”

“Not for that kind of play.” You put a hand on the back of his head and swivel it, all while shoving him down the sidewalk. You almost remark on how man-like he’s acting, before chasing the thought away.

“What other types of play are there?”

“Just—hush.”

And he does, finally, when you loop your arm through his: a presumably innocent gesture that draws his attention fully back to you, as physical touch seems to do, with him. Beneath the material of the jacket, he feels natural, all muscle and bone, even leaning into you as if the weather has made him cold. You can feel him tracing your face with his one-eyed gaze—scanning you—and you pretend not to notice.

“Your heart rate has gone up. Have I made you angry?”

“Yes,” you tell him, though he hasn’t, really. “You and your curiosity are gonna make me late, and then we’ll be in some serious shit.”

He looks away then, down to the soaked pavement, a mimicry of disappointment. From the corner of your eye, you can see his manufactured Adam’s apple bob, and the muscle beneath your hand shifts.

“They seemed nice, the holograms.” He says, and you can’t help the soft snort such a comment merits.

“Yeah, they’re nice, alright, until you can’t pay them.”

Shouto looks at you once again, stride threatening to falter until you tug him along. “Do you know them?”

You already know where he’s going with his question, and the corner of his lips quirk up when you cast him a filthy look. “Well, no, but—”

“Then how do you know—”

“I just do, alright?” You frown at him and he accepts it in full, studying once more. Whatever he finds in your expression amuses enough that he’s placated for the moment, though you know it won’t be long before he’s piping up again.

He does it often—studies you: body language, physiological changes, speech patterns, vocal cues. Human behavior he catalogs and streams to someone back at the Corporation headquarters, finding the miniscule details he can use against you, some day. Whatever the reason behind his damage, he is still a product of his evil overlords, made for reasons you can only imagine.

This is what you tell yourself.

As his fingers shift until their smooth pads are brushing the delicate veins in your wrists, as he tightens his arm around yours when another stranger on the streets knocks your shoulder, as he leans into the warmth of your humanness: this is what you tell yourself.

You’re overcome with a sense of loss and you don’t know why, and you clear the strange lump hardening in your throat. “Life lesson number six, Todoroki,” you murmur it closely to him, nearly into the fabric at his shoulder, though he doesn’t react to the name. “Everybody wants something from someone, holo-hams included.”

Shouto seems to process your words, for a moment, and his face is expressionless when you steal a peek up at him. Technicolor rains down on your both, swathing him in a wild array as advertisements dance on the buildings that tower above you, and again you think of his creator. The careful hands that crafted his smooth cheeks, the sharp line of his nose, the leanness of his body. You wonder if he’s ever been deemed precious.

Nearly all of the residents relegated to the lower districts owe the Todoroki Corporation in some way. Be it through credit loans or applied interest rates on subsidized housing or hidden costs and high premiums on mandatory, shit insurance—Enji Todoroki sits in the lap of KōkyōLuxuria, has probably never even stepped down from his pedestal.

There’s no good reason a product of his could have found its way to you: this is what you tell yourself.

“And you want my ear.” Shouto says, looking back down at you as your shoulders tense. There isn’t a byte of hostility in his voice, but he must understand the sharpness to what he’s saying.

“Yes,” you admit with a nod, and some underlying, rogue streak of guilt has you pressing into him, as if your proximity could make up for your selfishness. “The sensors in your ear are gonna pay for our dinner tonight, handsome.”

His stride falters once more, and despite the time clock ticking in the back of your mind—you let him stop you. Maybe you want him to. Nothing ever goes unnoticed by him and you know that and maybe it’s cruel of you to say such a thing, to offer a comfort you can’t admit to, but Shouto looks down at you in all his ruination and—

Before he can say anything, a fat drop of water hits the tip of his perfectly manufactured nose. It makes him flinch, delayed, and the surprise he wears and the scrunch of his brow seem so—human, there before you. Shouto tilts his face to the dark, smoggy sky, and again that worry bites you, about too much water trickling into his core.

“We’re going to be late,” you repeat, though it’s much weaker than it was earlier. This is one those moments in which he overrides all your defenses, uploads something warm and hopeful and frightening into your chest cavity; you can’t tell if you want to run because you have to, for the sale—or if it’s a result of watching him now, haloed in neon.

He’s not one to ignore you, but he doesn’t respond, instead retracting his arm from your grip in order to push the hood back off his head. Raindrops soak into his bandage and the excess pools, dripping down over the line of his jaw and the column of his throat. So close to him, you can see the goosebumps that break out across his skin.

(You wonder if he’s ever been deemed precious. You wonder if he meant to leave, or if he was cast out. You wonder if he was created for continued corruption—or if someone out there wanted him to experience life, no matter how rusty.)

(You wonder if he feels as human as he looks. If he can blush, or if the soft skin below his ear can bruise.)

A small sound bubbles out of him, like a light laugh of disbelief.

You found him face down in the rain; you’re not sure why it could cause such a reaction now, but he turns to eye the commercial playing behind him, before watching the path of a man walking by the two of you. Rain collects in his perfect cupid’s bow until he licks it away, and his hair slicks to the side when he pushes it out of his face.

Shouto turns his attention back to you rather plainly, though the edges of his smile pull up a little higher than they usually do, enough that the apples of his cheeks round. He asks you, “What’s going to be for our dinner?” and the question is oddly worded, but each one is intentional.

Maybe it’s not the rain that amuses him—and maybe it is. Maybe it really is that simple, that innocent. Maybe it’s the microtremors in your voice and your increased heart rate, all the little details that could never go unnoticed.

There isn’t a way that this could end well: this is what you tell yourself.

You nod once and turn to face back the way you came, resigned, before looping your arm through his again. You trace the delicate veins on the inside of his wrist, careful not to cover the slow-blinking symbol embedded there, and you decide it doesn’t matter what his creator did or didn’t want. Because he has wants of his own, just like anyone.

“Okay,” you sigh, and when you slosh through the puddles collecting on the sidewalk, Shouto seems happy to follow along, this time. “I can probably sweet talk Toyomitsu into buying us some takoyaki, but you’re gonna have to play it cool.”

“Is this the kind of play you were talking about?”

That lilt has returned to his voice, even and friendly and amused.

“No,” you swat at him to hear his little huff of laughter, “now stop asking about that.”

Of course he doesn’t.

#NOTE that this was written with fem reader in mind but i don't think it reads that way explicitly ?#i........actually had so much fun with this #i love any human x robot pairing like it's a true weakness for me #anything centering on a robot/android wanting to understand the human experience and wanting for emotion is like PEAK #i am so so thankful i got to work on this idea again i really truly enjoyed it #i wrote this while being so emotional about 'ex machina' i hope the emotion isn't too abstract LOL #✿ willow writes #✿ thoughts: shouto #✿ theme: android shouto

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acadjonne · 10 months

Text

so hear me out

tim drake and danny fenton are twins

jack drake really did have a brother named eddie, once upon a time. eddie drake also had a wife, and she was expecting twins, but of course gotham is gotham. right before the twins would be born, eddie died, but his wife was brought to the hospital and lived long enough for the twins to be born.

jack and janet drake adopt the older twin, tim, because people knew that eddie and his wife were going to have a baby, and they had been considering having a kid themselves. but no one knew the drakes were expecting twins, and jack and janet don’t want two babies, so they arrange for the younger twin to be anonymously given up.

well, through some insane miscommunication, the other twin ends up in illinois, where he’s adopted a few months later by jack and maddie fenton. of course, because danny was given up anonymously, there’s no information whatsoever about his birth family

tim finds out he’s got a twin when he’s eleven or twelve by finding his birth certificate and an ultrasound print in his father’s safe. he starts looking for his twin, but doesn’t find a whole lot on his own.

(even when tim becomes robin, he never thinks of mentioning his twin to bruce.)

when they’re 14, tim meets sam manson at a gala in gotham. she’s originally from gotham as well, but moved to amity park as a kid, so this was her first time back in a long time. danny had just recently found out he was adopted, so of course when sam sees tim and he looks exactly like danny, she puts two and two together and approaches tim.

once sam gets back to amity, she puts danny and tim in contact. they agree that it sounds super unlikely on paper since danny was found in a hospital in chicago, while tim was born in gotham, and danny’s birthday is a couple days off from tim’s because no one knew exactly what day he was actually born, but they also look way too much alike for it to be coincidence.

of course, before they can get a dna test done, danny’s portal accident happens, and he gets super squirley about it after that whenever tim mentions it. plus they’re both minors and the drakes are never around to actually consent to it so it would be kinda weird for tim to insist on a dna test at that point.

but they stay in touch for the next few years, both expertly dodging any mention of their hero activities, and even manage to meet up for their sixteenth birthday. they hang out for a weekend in cleveland because it’s neutral ground, pretty much right smack in the middle between amity park and gotham. then, a few weeks after the events of d-stabilized, shit hits the fan.

valerie knows vlad is also plasmius, and after giving (dani) ellie a good head start, she starts going after him, outing him to the whole town in the process. of course, vlad assumes danny is the one who told valerie, so he outs danny as phantom as well. vlad manages to shake valerie, the fentons, and the giw, but danny isn’t so lucky, and gets captured by the giw.

of course, once they find out he’s been captured, sam, tucker, and jazz start planning to break him out and get him somewhere safe. obviously they can’t take danny to either the manson or foley houses, the giw would check there first, and they can’t take him to jazz’s college dorm either. gotham has a lot of ambient ectoplasm though, and the giw (probably) wouldn’t go anywhere near batman’s territory even with the anti-ecto acts, so sam calls tim and asks if they can take danny to him once they rescue him.

of course, tim had no idea about anything going on in amity park, not that team phantom knew that. turns out the giw have been covering things up forever, and the extremely high ectoplasm leaking from the fentons’ portal doesn’t help either. but of course sam assumes he knows because most of amity park is actively protesting against the giw and demanding danny’s release and it’s about to start getting violent any second now, and if it’s such big news in amity then of course tim knows danny is phantom by now, right?

but tim’s able to keep hold of himself long enough to let sam know that yes, danny can come to gotham, all of team phantom can come to gotham once they’ve rescued him, and once he’s let her go he immediately goes to the other bats and sounds the alarms

so queue the justice league showing up in amity park to deal with the giw, and inquiries about the legality of the anti-ecto acts and how they overlap with meta protection laws get raised, and danny gets rescued, and team phantom is evacuated to gotham.

once things have calmed down, tim tells danny about being red robin and they bond over hero stuff. danny fixes jason’s pit-induced anger problems because holy shit dude your ectoplasm is rancid. bruce of course takes on look at danny and decides to adopt him.

anyway, thanks for coming to my ted talk.

#dcxdp #dpxdc #danny phantom #tim drake #danny fenton #tim drake and danny fenton are twins #listen the whole ‘giw and fentons find out about danny by accident and he has to run to Gotham’ thing is fun #but i think we as a phandom sleep on valerie finding out about vlad being plasmius in d-stabilized way too much #and like vlad would totally think danny told valerie since he was literally bragging about how easy she was to trick #so if valerie went after him for being plasmius he’d immediately turn it around and out danny too #plus in this case it works as a way to get danny to gotham and get him to join the batfam which is great #honestly i wanna write a fic about this but i don’t even know where to start #so enjoy my 1am ramblings of ideas that have been rattling around in my head for several days now #drake twins

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sailing-through-hawkins · 8 months

Text

✧ written for 'charm' ✧ word count: 548 ✧ rated: T ✧ cw: none ✧ tags: vampire eddie, also thirsty eddie ✧ @steddiemicrofic ( •̀ ω •́ )✧

Eddie stalks closer.

He's been starving for weeks. Every night, he comes back here and makes his way through the crowd of bodies, weaving through their rhythms as they dance to the loud, loud music booming out of the club speakers.

But there's been no one.

Not one single person he could feed on, not one body that caught his hunger's attention, just making it fester and claw its way through his flesh until he has to leave before he can make a scene.

Jeff offered to help him hunt but his own damned pride doesn't want anything between his hunger and his meal, even a helping hand.

But now he's found a lonesome little thing outside the club. It leans against a streetlight, dressed in black as if to blend in with the shadows, as if it knows what it means to be one with the night.

As though it isn't sweet, sweet prey.

The streetlight flickers, once, twice, and in between those moments he's right there, hand stretched out.

"You're -"

The man - it's a man - turns around to face Eddie and oh.

"- pretty." Eddie says dumbly.

The man's pinched expression turns blank, before he ducks his head with a shy smile, looking up through lovely lashes.

Eddie blinks as those hazel eyes gaze back at him sweetly, his brain scrambling to gain any sense of gravity that was lost the moment he met those eyes.

"Thanks," the man says with a grin, one of his (scarred, veiny, pretty) hands pinching the hem of his black skirt and swishing it back and forth. "I've never worn one before but I thought it suited me, y'know?"

With an audible gulp, he nods, hand dropping pathetically between them. "Y-yeah, it does. It suits you. You're pretty."

Giggling, the man hooks a finger around the pinkie of his pathetic hand and it sends crackles of warmth through his veins, crackles that burst into his ribcage and make his heart beat again.

"You - I - uh," Eddie stammers and the man laughs again, pulling Eddie closer gently by the single point of connection they have.

"Are you always this articulate?" he teases as the streetlight flickers again and Eddie sighs when he catches a glimpse of the man in the moonlight, radiant and sweet and -

"Hi," Eddie says dreamily, tilting his head, void of thought, unable to resist the charm, the thrall of this pretty, pretty man.

The man leans back against the post, crooking up a leg so his knee grazes the skin peeking through the rips of Eddie's trousers. Eddie stares at the thick thigh now in his immediate space, fingers itching to stroke along the flesh, but then a finger gently pushes his chin upwards until his eyes catch on hazel once more. The man smiles at him and says softly, "Hey."

Eddie swallows.

The streetlight flickers for a few seconds and as he’s basked in the silvery glow of moonlight, the man whispers, “Do you want me?”

Eddie nods.

The hand under his chin ghosts over his skin, curling up behind his head to grasp his hair, and he gasps. The man pulls him closer, he smells incredible, and laughs darkly as the streetlight finally goes out.

“Then take a bite.”

✧ this is dedicated to the lovely @xenon-demon because i wanted to write you something and you asked for a reverse on the monster thralling a human plot and i think we both won here ✧

#sailor✧writes #steddie #microfic #writing #au content: vampires #steddiemicrofic #i hoped for a stronger sense of luring here to really get that sense of a thrall but i think this is pretty good too #i hope you like this charlie!!! it was so much fun #sip water every time i used the word pretty and you'll be so hydrated #the way i wrote this without even writing about blood is that impressive or boring for a vampire fic idk #also yes the articulate line was from hercules listen megara was a staple in my childhood -

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gawayne · 29 days

Text

i just need you all to understand the kind of prof im dealing with in this class

#it keeps going #he’s straight up writing aeroelasticity fanfic #he has too much fun here. hes way too smart for us </3

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theminecraftbee · 5 months

Text

an explosive repetition

this is a gift for @caracuuw for @mcytblrholidayexchange! please enjoy some time travel fwhimmy! this is crossposted to the ao3 collection here. i had fun writing it; happy holidays, and enjoy!

===

The embers of the campfire burn low during the yearly meeting of Emperors. People cheer to the newest of their number; the Codfather had been late, but he’d arrived, panting and covered in leaves and apologizing. They’d talked in quiet tones about things only people who were the emperors of their own nations could discuss, about the year to come, about the power afforded to them, and, while not about politics—the campfire meeting had never truly been for politics—they discussed what to expect from each other on an interpersonal level. Something changes in a person, when the life of a nation is tied to them. That’s what being an emperor means, even if these days only about half of them go by ‘emperor’ and only just about as many inherited their positions; even now, Fwhip remembers the day he was given the leadership title over his sister, and the way the sudden weight of the entire nation settled over his shoulders, and he knew what being an emperor was.

He feels a bit like that now, actually, except also significantly more on fire.

Not literally. He is no longer literally on fire. But, like, it’s sort of hard to forget the feeling of being on fire, even briefly. It lingers under his skin. That hadn’t happened when he’d gone from Fwhip to Count Fwhip. If that had involved being set on fire he probably would have tried harder to refuse at the time instead of being all like ‘oh hey I am no longer the unwanted second son but a vital part of this nation’, because being on fire sucks, and he doesn’t recommend it to anyone.

Pretending he is not on fire also sucks. If it weren’t for the fact he looked across the campfire, saw Jimmy appear, and saw him shaking in a very particular way too, he probably wouldn’t have been able to hide how on-fire he was. He certainly wouldn’t have been able to navigate the conversations that are normally held at a campfire meeting. He’s pretty sure he barely navigated them as it was. He had been too busy giving Jimmy baffled looks at every free moment, trying to figure out why he was technically no longer literally on fire, and freaking out about how these were all the conversations he’d had last year, actually, and he sort of remembered them, and hey maybe he only has to pay half attention anyway because if they’re the same conversations as last year, there won’t be anything important for him to know, because he already knows it, and oh man what had he gotten himself into now, and—

The point is that during their secretive magic meeting and all that, Fwhip had mostly been on fire. Is he thinking straight? He’s not thinking straight.

He waits until basically everyone has left (Pixlriffs hasn’t yet, but the Copper King has a tendency to stick around at these things and Fwhip doesn’t think he’ll get rid of him) before rounding on Jimmy.

“You,” he says.

“Me? What do you mean me? This is your fault!” Jimmy says back.

“If you hadn’t had your stupid idea of making peace or whatever…”

“Oh, well excuse me, but it was your machine that blew up. I’m still on fire!” Jimmy pauses. “Metaphorically! I’m metaphorically on fire!”

“I mean, it’s not a metaphor when it feels a lot like actual fire, that’s not what a metaphor is I think?” Fwhip says.

“Are you sure?” Jimmy asks.

“I mean, I think so?” Fwhip says.

They both pause for a moment to contemplate this. Jimmy shrugs. “That’s not important!” he decides at last. “The point is. You set us on fire! You blew us up! You blew us up so hard we time traveled!”

“And would that have happened if I’d just been using salmon power? No! No, it has to be your stupid cod that did it!” Fwhip says.

“Well I think it was your stupid face!” Jimmy says. Fwhip gasps.

“You take that back,” he says.

“Make me!” Fwhip says.

“Um,” Pixlriffs says, staring wide-eyed at the two of them. “You know, I’m just going to leave now. And leave you to… your time travel? No wonder I’ve had a headache for the past week.”

Fwhip and Jimmy stare at him.

“I’m very good at pretending I don’t know the future, don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone,” Pixlriffs says, and before Fwhip can interrogate him on that, he darts into the woods. It’s a little awkward, with none of the mysterious grace a statement like that should have, and all the gangly arms and legs the Copper King has had for ages. For a man with so much mystery around him, he’s always been a little too silly, a little too awkward, and a little too approachable. Fwhip’s always wondered if it’s a trap. Fwhip wonders if he’s actually going to not tell anyone. Fwhip…

Fwhip turns back to Jimmy and discovers Jimmy staring after the Copper King, a wistful, fond, and exhausted expression on his face. It’s so out of place with the yelling, and the time travel, and with Fwhip’s knowledge that Jimmy’s the pettiest emperor on the entire continent. It makes Fwhip’s stomach hurt.

It’s quiet.

“Sorry,” Jimmy says. “Sorry. I haven’t seen him in a long time. He was never really the same after—I haven’t seen him in a while. I should go have tea with him. There’s a fancy word for that where he’s from but I never remember it. He’s always been nice about that.”

“Oh,” Fwhip says.

“He looks less tired,” Jimmy says.

“Yeah, well you look kind of like shit,” Fwhip says.

Jimmy smiles, low and sad. “Yeah, well, you look even more—more bad. When did you last sleep?”

Fwhip doesn’t answer.

Jimmy shakes his head. “Anyway, enough of that. I’m supposed to be yelling at you about the time travel. Did you really blow us up so badly we went back in time?”

“Do you have a better answer?”

“I mean, I don’t know! I don’t want to be dead! I’m already on fire.”

Fwhip thinks of rumors about the Copper King and omens. He swallows. “Yeah, you know what, I’ll buy it’s time travel. Time travel! Back to the beginning of all of this! Just when things were finally starting to really work out for everyone!”

“Yeah,” Jimmy says. “Just when.”

They both sit down in front of the embers of the fire, almost at the same moment. It’s surprisingly cold now that the fire has mostly died. It shouldn’t be cold at the same time as being on fire, but maybe it’s the absence of any new fire to warm them with. Maybe it’s the fact that he’d been sitting, trying to have a conversation, getting used to the fire. He wouldn’t know. It seems distinctly like the kind of thing that Gem would know, except Gem has only just ascended to officially being Head Wizard, and she hadn’t had a war with a demon yet to really dig into the archives. She might not know. She might not tell him. He understands if she doesn’t. She’d always been the more responsible sibling in most ways that matter, and…

“Fuck,” Fwhip says. “Fuck, I blew us up and we’re back in time.”

“Stop swearing,” Jimmy says. “Besides, it was my fault, wasn’t it? Council told me not to do it and everything. I’m a failure like that.”

“Only one of us has got failure in the name, buddy.”

“Hah. Yeah, true, your parents suck.”

“It’s supposed to be for good luck. Shows what the Grimlands know.”

He shudders. He’s still on fire. He doesn’t know how to stop being on fire. He thinks maybe it’s all in his head, except for the fact Jimmy’s on fire too. It just—it had happened so fast. One moment, he and Jimmy had been shaking hands, and announcing they were burying the hatchet, and unveiling the salmon-cod reactor. It had been a good moment. Sure, there had been no way he and Jimmy would have stopped disagreeing, but they were committing to no more wars. To attempting to talk. To attempting peace. Fwhip hadn’t really wanted to hurt Jimmy for months anyway, and they’d both known it. Too many other things had happened, and even if the salmon and cod had stood between them before, the salmon-cod reactor would prove that with their powers together, they could be something more.

He’d turned to shake Jimmy’s hand one more time, the papers sign.

Then, the world had exploded.

It had hurt. He’s still on fire now, but it doesn’t hurt like that momentary flash of light, the twinned look of horror in Jimmy’s eyes, the realization something had gone horribly wrong, and then the world exploding around him. Someone had screamed; Fwhip still isn’t certain if that had been him. Fwhip had reached, a moment late, for the emergency stop. He’s not sure why, in hindsight. Some ingrained instinct to try to hit that button whenever something went wrong, maybe.

He’d been on fire. The world had been on fire. The earth had shaken. Jimmy had said something.

Then, the world exploded again, proving that instinct to hit the emergency stop a moment too late had been right after all, and Fwhip had woken up just outside of the campfire meeting. He went through it on autopilot.

“So, uh,” Jimmy starts. “We time traveled, huh?”

“We sure did,” agrees Fwhip.

“What do we do now? Because like, if we change stuff, do we vanish and die? I don’t want to vanish and die because I changed the time stream, man,” Jimmy says, wringing his hands nervously. His gills flare in and out on his neck.

“Pixlriffs literally already knows we time traveled.”

“And that was your fault, wasn’t it?”

“Mine? How was it my fault? You were arguing with me!”

“No, you were arguing with me!”

“Well, he’s your friend, so it’s your fault. I barely know the guy in this time.” Fwhip pauses. “I mean, I knew him later, when we were all sort of on the same side. He’s fun! Had some great ideas about how to handle corruption, liked explosions well enough, the whole works. But right now, he’s your friend, not mine.”

Jimmy pauses and frowns. “Oh, right. Hey, wait, that doesn’t make it my fault!”

“I think it does.”

“Look, I don’t know what to do with time travel either. Maybe Pixlriffs won’t say anything? I mean, he’ll tease us about it, but he doesn’t normally say anything about his whole… you know, right? It’s fine. It’s fine!”

“Yeah, maybe. Maybe that won’t change much,” Fwhip concedes.

Finally, the burning is starting to fade as the sun sets. Fwhip realizes he doesn’t know what that means. Maybe, he thinks grimly, he’d been burning because he’d set the Grimlands ablaze, too, but there isn’t enough Grimlands left to burn. Maybe it’s just time, though. Maybe it’s nothing quite so terrible. Besides, it’s good, the not being on fire. Very good, that. He doesn’t want to be on fire. Being on fire is… bad.

Lots of things are bad, actually. Maybe he doesn’t feel like he’s burning because he’s no longer at risk of erasing himself from existence? Or, worse—because he already is being erased from existence.

“Gods, Jimmy, I might actually kill you for this one,” Fwhip says. “I’m at least going to do something you hate.”

“So, good news, you’re supposed to steal my music disc about now,” Jimmy says.

“…really?”

“Did—did you not even remember that’s why this started?” Jimmy asks incredulously.

“I don’t know man, I don’t care about a stupid shitty music disc right now!”

“I can’t believe you. I can’t believe I was making peace with you. I can’t believe I was going to kiss you and everything. The nerve!”

“Listen, I thought it was a religious conflict! The cod and salmon thing! You know, inherent irreconcilable differences and all that!” Fwhip says defensively. He pauses. He goes back. “What was that last bit?”

“What, your nerve?”

“No, the part about—you were going to kiss me?”

Jimmy goes very, very still. “Ignore that,” Jimmy says. “Ignore it. Ignore it! It doesn’t matter right now. Besides, we’re enemies again now, right?”

“Right,” Fwhip says, feeling strangely disappointed. “I mean, I would have kissed you back. Even when we were enemies.”

“…really?” Jimmy says.

“I mean, yeah, I like people who might stab me,” Fwhip says.

“I don’t know how to take that,” Jimmy says.

“Yeah, it’s a problem.”

“I can imagine.”

It’s awkward now. Now that Fwhip isn’t on fire, it’s—it’s awkward between them. Fwhip doesn’t know where he stands. He should probably mock Jimmy about having a crush, but it’s a little late to do that, on account of having admitted to having a crush himself. It feels like the kind of thing they should ignore at the moment, really, given that…

“Anyway, I guess I’m stealing a music disk and maybe your codfather hat?” Fwhip says.

“I’m going to have to act like killing the dragon is a good idea,” Jimmy says, vaguely sick-sounding.

“Relax, it’ll be fun for me to get to yell at you.”

“Sure.”

They stare at each other for a while. The thing is, really, that Fwhip doesn’t want to die.

“I mean, it can’t be that much harder to do the same way a second time, right?” Jimmy says, trying to hype himself up. “I’ve already done it once! It’s like, I already know how to do all of this for sure! Yeah! It can’t—it can’t be that bad. Can I kiss you though? Since you know anyway. It won’t be changing anything, promise, I’ve just—since I was going to do it. To seal the alliance. Our secret alliance. Can we at least have one of those? So when—when it’s all my fault that a demon’s here and all—”

“That really wasn’t your fault,” Fwhip says.

“Please?” Jimmy says.

Fwhip considers it. Fwhip shrugs. “Yeah. Secret alliance, until we get the real one in the end. Secret alliance to preserve the future.”

Jimmy sniffles. “Yeah, that.”

They both awkwardly lean in. Fwhip has never kissed Jimmy before; he’d always imagined it would taste kind of slimy. It doesn’t, although it does taste a little like fish, which makes Fwhip sort of want to laugh hysterically. Instead, he just pulls in deeper. Suddenly, they’re both kissing with the desperation of the two only people in the whole world; they might as well be. They’re the only ones who know. They’re the only ones who are here. They’re the only ones who are about to have to do—to do everything. A second time. Then, they’re kissing with tongue, and Fwhip nearly pushes Jimmy to the ground trying to press his entire body into Jimmy’s. One of them might be crying; it might even be Fwhip. He’s on fire again, he thinks. He’s not sure what to do. It’s all gone. It’s all gone. They’re starting over, hurtling towards a happy ending interrupted by the worst mistake imaginable, teetering on an edge with only each other, and they’d only just learned to stand next to each other without threats like a week ago. Fwhip doesn’t know what to do. Fwhip doesn’t know what to do. So he just keeps going, the two of them practically clawing at each other trying to dig into the skin of someone who at least is trapped with them, and—

Jimmy, suddenly, as though spooked, pushes Fwhip away. They stand there panting for a moment. Fwhip tries to bring his head back down to reality.

“Why do you have gunpowder on your mouth?” Jimmy asks, almost like he’s saying something else.

Fwhip really does get hysterical, then. “Oh, wow, okay, secret alliance. Okay, we’re doing this. Okay. Okay! You taste like fish.”

“I am a fish.”

“Not anymore!” Fwhip says, and he cackles. “You aren’t—you aren’t anymore, remember? You and Lizzie were all—cursed? Anti-cursed? Shit, do you even know you're siblings yet?”

“Oh, seas,” Jimmy says.

“Yeah. Yeah!”

“I don’t—Fwhip, I don’t know if I can do this,” Jimmy says.

“Tough shit,” Fwhip says. “Because I can’t do it either.”

They stand there staring at each other for a while.

“But what happens if we screw it up?” Jimmy asks. “What happens if—even if changing it’s okay, until we blew ourselves up, it was—”

“It was good,” whispers Fwhip. “It was good. We were happy. It was okay. It was good.”

“What happens if we never get that back?”

Neither Fwhip nor Jimmy can answer it. They just keep standing there by the campfire, waiting for an answer that won’t come. Instead, the minutes keep slipping away, and the weight of everything that’s just been undone gets heavier, and heavier, and heavier, until Fwhip would prefer the fire.

“Okay,” Jimmy says. “Okay. I have—I still have a nation to run.”

“Yeah, so do—so do I. Here. A personal—this is a personal number. Only Gem has it. If you call using it—”

“Okay. Yeah. Secret alliance,” agrees Jimmy. “We kissed on it and everything, that makes it unbreakable, I think. I don’t know. I haven’t kissed many people. Does this make us—the only real couple I know is Joel and Lizzie, really, and I’m not sure we should model this off of Joel, as much as I love him.”

“Jimmy, if we make it to the end of this without going insane, I will propose to you, and we’ll have a wedding to make it official. We can upstage Joel and Lizzie and everything. I don’t care what’s actually a good idea,” Fwhip says.

“You wouldn’t,” Jimmy says.

“You’re one to talk,” Fwhip says.

“Thank you,” Jimmy says, and it’s the single most desperate thing Fwhip has ever heard the other emperor say. He never wants to hear it again.

“It’s—we’re in it together, man. I’m not that selfish,” Fwhip says.

Jimmy rubs his eyes. “Good to know we’re both learning that about ourselves.”

“Can we stay here a little longer?” Fwhip says. “Just until the embers run out.”

“Yeah,” Jimmy says.

They do. They sit next to each other. At some point, Fwhip grabs Jimmy’s hand. He stares as the fire burns down. Neither of them say much else. He doesn’t know if that’s for the better or not. Maybe they should talk more. Maybe they should try to work out what they should do, or what a secret alliance even looks like. Maybe they should argue again, because that’s fun, but—

Fwhip doesn’t know. This works, at least.

They can figure it out tomorrow. Yeah. That seems like a decision that won’t have consequences at all.

“Hey, Jimmy—” he says, and then stops. “Never mind.”

“You’re weird,” Jimmy says. “I can’t believe I time traveled with you.”

“Ditto, man.”

They can figure it out tomorrow.

#empires smp #empiresshipping #jimmy solidarity #fwhip #fwhimmy #a bee fic #anyway i think these two would be like. the world's worst time travelers. in a DELIGHTFUL way. but still.#so i HOPE YOU LIKE THIS #this fic is like 90% dialogue tbh but that's because i was having too much fun writing the dialogue lol #anyway empires season one fwhimmy is a DYNAMIC and i had fun writing it #idk if this is perfect? this is my first time trying to write them! but i definitely had FUN #so enjoy it!#mcytblrholidayexchange2023 #also I know I don’t normally post shipping stuff to this blog. but I hope you like it anyway!

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dumplingsjinson · 1 year

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The morning after a one night stand ??

List of “the morning after a one night stand” prompts

“I’m confused— what happened last night? And also, are you naked? Why are you naked?”

“I need a rewind of last night, from start to finish. Physically.”

“I mean… I love when accidents happen?”

“That was a one night stand and you damn well know it.” “Yeah, but it didn’t feel like one.”

Character A waking up to an empty bed and a splitting headache.

“…This is going to become more than just a one night stand if you keep staring at me like that.” “You were awake this whole time?!”

“There were feelings — feelings I’m not so sure I liked feeling.”

“Stay for some breakfast?”

“Okay, I know we agreed for this to be a one night stand but… I kinda wanna break that agreement.”

Character A waking up to Character B snuggled up to them, their limbs entangled and their naked bodies pressing against each other’s.

“We were both drunk.” “We were far from drunk.”

“Everything aches.”

Character A, pinned under Character B, whose eyes are roaming their whole body, before they flicker back up to their eyes; dragging back down to their lips. “Since you can’t remember the details, then let me do the honour of triggering your memory from last night, yeah?”

“Last night was good practice.” “Bitch, what? Excuse me?”

“I still can’t get over how you knew just how I liked it without me needing to tell you.”

“So. Let’s talk about the ‘I love you’ you let slip?” “…Um, an even better idea. How about we don’t?”

“I wanna do that again.” “The point of a one night stand—” “It doesn’t have to be a one night stand.”

“You look good in my shirt.”

Character B pulling Character A back into bed with them, preventing them from leaving.

“I’m up for some morning sex if you are.”

“…That was a momentary lapse of judgement on my part.”

“Kinda don’t wanna get outta bed.”

“Dude, you fucked the living daylights out of me last night and you expect me to be able to walk properly?”

“I’m never drinking again.”

“We really shouldn’t have done that…”

“Do you regret it?” “I don’t… I don’t know.”

“Problem is, I don’t want this to be a one night stand.”

“You think I can’t make you sound like that again?”

Character A and Character B agreeing to not talk about this ever again.

“…I think feelings were involved in that.”

“We can always do that again if you’re down for it.”

“This.” Character A sighs. “It’s— it’s going to turn into a reoccurring thing…” they say, trailing off into a soft whimper as Character B thrusts their fingers into them again.

“Mistakes were made!” “That wasn’t a mistake.”

“Oh no.”

“…I’d give my soul to have you like that again.”

“You up for some brunch?” “Hell fucking yeah.”

“Because God forbid we fall in love after that.”

Character A waking up to Character B’s face smushed against the pillow and giggling a little. “Wake up, sleepy head,” they murmur, prodding their nose lightly. “Go away,” Character B grumbles, swatting their hand away. Something in Character A thuds against their chest. (Oh. It’s their heart. And there it goes, again, doing its daily fucking gymnastic routine whenever they’re near Character A.)

“Hit me up again so we can just hang.” “Just hang?” “…Yeah, you heard me. Just hang.”

“I can’t stop thinking about last night.”

“…We made bad decisions last night.” “I think we made great decisions.”

“You couldn’t have left evidence on more visible spots, could you?”

“…What’s this?” “My number. In case you want to call me… Or something.”

“Surely I’m not the only who doesn’t want this to end like this,” Character A murmurs into Character B’s neck.

“Want me to hit the right spots again?” Character B says softly, sending shivers running down Character A’s spine; hand splayed on their bare stomach. “Y-yes, please,” Character A answers, arms tightening around their neck. “Need you like I needed you last night.”

“You know what, as much as I like one night stands, I don’t like the idea of it when it comes to you.”

“I don’t want to sever this connection that we seem to have.”

“Funny thing is, I don’t regret what happened. And I want it to happen again. That’s far from regret.”

“Currently thinking of abolishing this one-time rule we made.”

“This is to be kept between you and me, got it?” “Wouldn’t dream of letting someone else know I had you moaning my name all night long, would I now?”

#long post #writing prompts #prompts #dialogue prompts #otp prompts #writing scenarios #request #one night stand prompts #smut prompts #fwb prompts #enemies with benefits prompts #i think you can tell i had way too much fun with this #i wanted to post this for SO LONGGG #suggestive prompts

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