#what art things i still have to discover and attempt and enjoy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

joshym · 1 month

Text

Muse

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Summary: Your struggling artist is desperate for some inspiration.

Word Count: 3.4k+

Warnings: smut (18+ ONLY), unprotected p in v, oral (f! receiving), a smidge of sir kink, some spanking, a lot of fluff because i can't help myself, Jake draws a naked portrait of you (let me know if i've missed anything)

a/n: special thanks to this lovely anon for this brilliant idea. this was way too much fun to write.

this was inspired heavily by that scene from the Titanic. (you know the one.)

as always, thank you to my favorite editor/motivator, @jakeyt.

i hope you enjoy. ♡

“I want you to draw me wearing this.” You reach into the lapel of the robe, retrieving his coin that now hangs from your neck. “Only this.”

.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.

His frustration is palpable, evident in the nearly incessant huffing emanating from behind the closed door of his studio.

It's moments like these that leave you feeling utterly helpless. There’s nothing you can do, no inspiration you can provide that will pull him from his artist’s block.

He's been holed up in there for hours, since the early dawn, lost in the depths of his imagination, sketching away. You know better than to intrude; he's never been keen on sharing his work until it's finished.

In fact, he's never once allowed you a glimpse into his creative process. "It's the strange doodlings of a mind overrun with ideas. It's not to be seen until it's in its final form," he's reminded you countless times when your curiosity gets the better of you.

Still yet, you're consumed by the desire to witness his beautiful mind in action, crafting masterpieces in real-time, each stroke flowing from his soul through his tireless hand on his Somerset velvet sheets.

But, like any artist, he’s his own worst critic. He’s never truly satisfied with anything he creates, though you are left utterly speechless after each piece he finishes. His mind is a beautifully profound chasm of endless wonder, manifested through his artistry.

You hate when he has these moments of doubt, these instances when he questions whether he’s truly capable of such greatness.

And you especially despise days like today, when he spends the better part of it feeling as though he has a mental brick wall in the way of his ingenuity, hindering his hand from bringing to life what his mind so desperately longs to conceive.

Commissioned pieces, like his project today, always hold the most weight for him— from the need to earn a living, to his persistent worry that his art might not meet the expectations of the client.

It’s not that he doesn’t love doing them, or that he’ll ever stop taking them; quite the contrary, they’re his favorite pieces to work on. They provide him with an added pressure that elicits some of his best work.

But, reaching that point can be rather strenuous for him. It can at times take days, weeks before he discovers the creative impulsion he needs.

And right now, he’s in that very rut, awaiting the surge of inspiration that will reignite his dulled spirit.

There truly is nothing you can do when he’s lost like this, and any effort you’ve attempted in the past has always proved useless.

The one thing you can do, however, is prepare him some dinner.

He’s hardly left his studio today, and you know he’s not eaten much, if anything at all. Perhaps a morsel of sustenance will ignite the dormant embers of his mind.

.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.

After a quiet tap to the door, he invites you in with a serene voice.

He looks tired, but lovely as ever. The golden hour has officially set in the sky, and the opened curtains on the windows have allowed for a warm hue to encompass his studio, enveloping him in its delicate lume.

“That smells absolutely divine,” he remarks as you enter his studio, his plate and yours delicately balanced in your hands.

“I figured a little homemade pasta would do you some good,” you tell him while you pad across the floor to his work station.

With a sly disposition and a playful glint in your eye, you aim to steal a glance of his day-long project, but alas, you’ve been caught. Your sweet Jake misses nothing.

"Not yet, my love," he murmurs, flipping the page over as he takes your hand, planting a tender kiss over your knuckles. "You know the rules."

“I know, I know.” Your response holds a bit of remorse. You know better, but can’t begin to help the relentless desire to see his mind at work.

Setting his dinner on the desk he’s working from, you move yourself across the small office to the green chaise lounge that sits across from him, silently seeking his permission with your gentle glances. The smile in his eyes tells you that he’s more than happy to be graced with your company for the time being.

After taking a bite of the spinach tortellini you prepared, he unbuttons his white striped shirt, removing it from his shoulders and stretching his arms high above his head as though he’s ridding himself of the weight of his frustrations.

You can’t help your glare, watching him do something so normal yet so intriguing all at once.

His skin is velvety smooth, his chest rising and falling with every breath he takes, his chestnut wavy locks sitting atop his broad shoulders. You’re in awe each time you look at him; the sheer magnitude of his beauty never fails to steal your breath away.

And his necklace, his most cherished piece of jewelry that he wears each and every day. The precious coin, a relic salvaged from a centuries-old shipwreck that hangs against his chest.

The way it sits on his bare skin is nothing short of elating, sexy. It’s a wonderful addition to his already captivating aura.

He’s flawless. Everything about him.

Once he catches your gaze, he responds with a sly wink, eliciting a blush that paints your cheeks a bright shade of pink.

Then, a thought begins to swirl around your mind for a brief moment. One that you’re shocked you’ve not conjured until now.

The vision of the pendant against his bare skin sets your own imagination alight.

“I’ve got an idea,” you propose, your voice soft and sultry, trying to pique his interest even just a little, something that may help the rusted wheels of his mind turn at full capacity once again.

While his focus remains on his work, his right eyebrow arches ever so slightly, and you catch the hint of a grin daring to curl in the corners of his mouth.

“And what might that be, my dear?” he asks with an unknowing, devilish smirk.

As you get up, he hastily flips the page back over to hide his work from you once again.

“Don’t worry,” you say as you move behind him, placing your hands on his bare shoulders. “I won’t peek.”

You glide your fingers along his skin, feeling the subtle rise of each goosebump in the wake of your gentle touch.

He hums inquisitively as you delicately take hold of the clasp of his necklace in between your index and thumb, undoing it in one fluid motion before slowly slipping it from around his neck.

“Be right back,” you say as you head towards the door. “Don’t move.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he responds, a myriad of questions splayed across his features.

With light steps, you make your way down the wooden floors of the hall towards your shared bedroom. Hanging on the back of the door is your sapphire hued satin robe, adorned with a delicate lace detailing along the hem—the one Jake has always fawned over.

The satin drapes coolly against your skin as you slip it on, wearing nothing underneath, save for the weight of Jake’s necklace resting against your chest that you hide beneath the fabric.

You run your fingers through your hair, adding a subtle tousled look, before applying a light blush to your lips and cheeks to impart a bit of natural color to your complexion.

And with that, you're poised and ready.

.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.

As you turn the corner to face his studio, you see a very weary version of your Jake. His head sits in the palms of his hands, his leg bounces up and down at a rapid rate—a clear sign of the mental battle he’s waging.

This is as good a time as any for your little idea, and you’re hoping that it’ll be the very thing he needs to find some much needed initiative to keep going.

“Hi, baby,” you venture, leaning your body alluringly against the frame of the door.

As he looks up, a familiar twinkle dances in his eyes—a sight you've longed for all day long. It's a glimmer that tells you he's rather fond of the vision before him.

“And what exactly is your idea?” he inquires softly, slowly standing from his chair. But you stop him, motioning for him to stay just where he is as you saunter towards the chaise you were seated on just moments ago.

“My idea,” you begin, making a very slow, deliberate attempt to untie the sash holding your robe together at the waist. “...is for you to draw me.”

As if your thought has affected him physically, his posture immediately straightens, and his once tired eyes hold a renewed sense of life as they watch you intently.

“I want you to draw me wearing this.” You reach into the lapel of the robe, retrieving his coin that now hangs from your neck. “Only this.”

Your robe suddenly falls to the floor, revealing your fully nude figure that was hidden beneath.

“Oh…” he utters, his tongue wetting his lower lip before tucking it between his teeth. “You can’t do this to me, baby. I can’t look at you like this an–”

“Consider it a commission,” you interrupt, tracing your fingers lightly up and down the skin of your torso. “And when you’re finished, if it’s to my liking, you’ll receive a full payment.”

With a raised eyebrow, his gaze sweeps up and down your form, while his index finger lightly grazes his chin.

“You’re quickly becoming my favorite client,” he quips, wiping a stray bead of sweat away from his forehead, tousling the front of his hair in the process. “Consider it done, ma’am,” he continues with a confirming nod of his head.

You lay yourself down on the forest green velvet cushions, positioning yourself sensually across the chaise. Your body is turned slightly to the side, your leg gracefully crossed over the other, an elegant display of your curved silhouette.

The warm glow that is so beautifully cast upon Jake, is now cast upon you, the aura laying over your nude body like a golden blanket of light.

“Is this okay?” you ask him, draping your arm over the back of the chaise, making sure the coin sits meticulously atop your chest before your other arm falls to rest against your body.

He simply grins while nodding his head, his eyes drinking you in, a mix of surprise and desire evident within his expression.

“Yeah, that um…that’ll do just fine,” he tells you, the slight crack in his voice eliciting a smile from you, a break in his professional facade.

With a deep breath, he takes his prized Faber Castell 9000, carefully sharpening the tip just a bit before putting it against a blank sheet.

And then, as the true artist you know him to be, he begins without a hint of hesitancy. The gentle sound of the lead scratching away at the paper fills the quiet room— a sound you’ve come to cherish, a sound that signifies his craft is steadily blossoming to life.

He seems charmingly nervous, his hand gently brushing against his nose every so often between a series of strokes from his pencil, clearing his throat more than usual. His eyes flint to you, then back to the paper, then back to you, a succession of his adoration and determination, ensuring that the likeness captured in his art closely mirrors your essence.

You try to keep your face composed, a seductive allure about your features. But as you watch him, immersed in his passion, the way he’s studying you so intently, it becomes nearly impossible to suppress the beginnings of a smile upon your lips.

But despite your efforts, he takes note of the curve adorning your flushed lips, mirroring it with his own. “Relax your face for me, beautiful.” The soft rasp in his tone is enough to send a blush throughout your whole body.

Breathing in your nose and exhaling through parted lips, you’re able to reclaim your composure enough to steady your expression.

Every moment you share with him is a brushstroke of beauty, but something about this one stands out. The intimacy of it all, how he must diligently study every inch of your form to convey your image through his art, the intensity behind his focused gaze…your heart is racing in your chest, despite your relaxed demeanor.

.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.

With the sun almost hidden behind the early moon, he completes the final stroke.

He lays his pencil down, gently blowing on the paper to remove any stray lead before he picks it up, examining it closely while he walks it over to you.

As he holds it out before you, allowing you to at last see his craft come to life, you’re left entirely awestruck.

“Oh, Jake.” The sight before you leaves you nearly breathless. It exceeds every expectation, beyond the boundaries of your imagination. It’s a portrayal of you, but not just that— it’s how he sees you.

It’s the first time you’re witnessing yourself through his eyes, and in that, you feel a profound sense of beauty within yourself that you’ve never known.

“Do you like it?” He asks, a slight tremor present in his voice.

“It’s…incredible, Jake.”

Propping yourself up a bit, you carefully take the drawing from his hands, poring over his vast attention to the detail in your face, your body.

Specifically your breasts, how perfectly he depicted their round curve above your rib cage, encapsulating the fullness and allure of them.

You’re entranced by the way he drew the contour of your hips, how he captured the dip in them that you’ve always looked at with disdain, yet in his portrayal, you’re able to see the beauty in what you’ve considered a flaw.

He encapsulated everything, even the faint freckle beneath the curve of your left breast, and the mole under your belly button. He managed to immortalize all the intricate nuances that you typically overlook.

“Is this what I really look like?”

“Yes, but,” he takes the drawing from you, placing it on the mahogany table beside the chaise lounge. He helps you lay back down, gently caressing your face that he’s just conveyed through his artistry as he props himself above you. “The essence of your beauty defies any depiction.”

Then, his lips envelope yours in a kiss so fervent, so ardent, as though he’s waited hours to finally have you within his grasp.

His hand moves with a swift grace to your breast, fingers toying with your perked bud. This erotic moment with him has you already so flustered, so sensitive to every touch of his hands.

He breaks his lips from yours, only to land them down the column of your heaving chest.

“You’ve no idea how hard it was for me to look at you like this, to look at these,” he mumbles against the tingling skin, hands kneading the flesh of your breasts. “And fight the urge to come place my lips on every inch of this beautiful fucking body.”

And just as he said, he bestows tender yet hungry kisses down the length of your torso, maneuvering his body down the chaise lounge until he kneels before you. He nestles his face perfectly between your thighs, his warm breath tantalizing your wet center from his dangerously close proximity.

“I certainly hope you don’t let all of your clients pay you like this,” you mutter, breathless and yearning for his mouth.

“Only the ones that tickle my fancy,” he says, his words adorned with a playful wink before he delves into you.

He laps away at your pulsing cunt, like he’s been starved for your taste this entire evening. The lewd, lascivious sounds he’s emitting from between your legs only serve to heighten your need for him, causing your back to instinctively arch away from the plush cushions.

And when his lips envelop your throbbing clit, his tongue swirling around it inside his warm mouth, your body trembles and shudders. A rush of warmth encompasses you, starting from the depths of your core, the pit of your stomach, spreading to every inch of your being.

You surrender to the intoxicating bliss, your breath catching in your throat while your heart pounds in a crescendoing rhythm.

He guides you through it, gently holding your hips in place while the movement of his tongue slows in perfect time as with the ebb of your climax.

“Oh, that was so beautiful, my love.” He lovingly kisses the inside of your thigh before he stands, removing the belt from his patchwork jeans. “Turn over for me, baby.”

“Yes, sir,” you quietly utter as you obey his demand, knowing good and damn well what that specific name does to him.

Just as he commanded, you turn your body over to your stomach, placing your elbows against the arm of the chaise, your back arched as much as you can so that your ass is sticking up just right for him.

“Love when my sweet girl calls me that,” he purrs before his belt hits the floor, his jeans and underwear quickly in tow and freeing his impossibly hard cock.

“So, what’s the verdict, my love?” You feel the cushion sink in behind you as he settles himself between your legs, his right hand caressing your hip while the other teases your soaked cunt with the tip of his cock, leaking with precum. “Was my work to your liking?”

You giggle breathlessly, poking your ass out even further as an offering to him for his hard work. “Yes, I believe you’ve earned your reward.”

He steadily begins nudging his cock into you, going slow at first, allowing you to fully adjust to him.

Inch by thick inch, he fills you completely to the hilt, your breath catching in heavy gasps that are robbed from your lungs as he buries himself deeply within you.

Your nails claw at the velvet armrest as his thrusts quicken in their pace, your upper body nearly going limp as you’re no longer able to easily hold yourself up.

His hands hold a firm grip at your lower waist, pulling you into his cock rhythmically, yet becoming more and more disordered as he’s beginning to lose himself to the pleasure.

You cry out a slew of obscenities mixed with his name, begging him to fuck you harder, faster.

Without question he complies, landing an open palm against your ass cheek. “So good for me baby,” he hums, his thighs slapping against the backs of yours as he drives into you just the way you need. “So fucking good for me.”

With one more vigorous thrust of his hips, you feel that familiar rush throughout your whole body as your cunt throbs and pulses incessantly around his cock.

“Fuck, I feel you, baby. Pretty little cunt squeezing me so tight.” You feel the twitching of his cock inside of you, an indication that he's on the very brink of his own release.

“Cum inside me, sir. Please…need you to fill me.” Your voice is faltered, your body still reeling from your second climax.

“Jesus,” he groans, moaning exasperatedly as your words have him spilling within you, filling you with his warmth just as you requested.

He stays buried inside of you as he catches his breath, feeling his release slowly trickling down your thighs as you struggle to fill your own lungs.

You have to fight the urge to protest when he begins pulling himself away from you, not yet ready for the empty feeling he leaves you with.

You practically collapse against the cushion, your body exhausted in the most enthralling way, the kind of exhaustion that only immense amounts of pleasure can bring forth.

“My sweet, beautiful girl,” he whispers, kneeling himself before you as he softly caresses your flushed cheek.

You kiss the pad of his thumb as it crosses over your mouth, summoning the strength to lift yourself up enough to steal one from his lips. “I hope it worked,” you say, gently cupping his face in your hand.

“You hope what worked, my love?” He asks, leaning into your soft touch.

“I was hoping this would help inspire you.” You reach for the drawing, savoring its beauty once more. “I was hoping I could help inspire you, pull you out of your moment of doubt.”

“My love,” he murmurs, setting the portrait back down before he gently brushes his lips against yours. “You inspire me endlessly, every single day.”

His tender smile warms your very soul as he leans in for a deeper kiss, imbued with all the love you could ever want for.

“You’re my perfect muse,” he utters against your lips, “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.”

.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.

a/n: suffice to say, this inspired the hell out of me when i've lacked inspiration/motivation lately. thank you, anon.

if you have any juicy ideas, feel free to send them my way. ♡

love you guys.

taglist: (let me know if you'd like to be added/removed!)

@jakeyt @objectsinspvce @stayinginthesun @sinarainbows @stardustcordzz @klarxtr @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @highway-tuna @way-to-go-lad @reesetrippingthelight @jakesgrapejuice @sacredjake @notthedroidz @kiszkashousee @psychedelicstardust-gvf @jjwasneverhere @gvf-ficreads @stardust-jake @gretavanbear @gvfmelborne @sirjaketkiszkasharmonica @jaaakeeey @neptune2324 @jaketlove @myleftsock @joshskittytickler @audgeppp @jordie-gvf @gretavansara @gretasfallingsky @jazzyfigz @louiseecraigg @hippievanfleet @blacksoul-27 @sarafrusciante2 @heckingfrick @citylight-delight @electricgoldtendercare @musicspeaks @hollyco @gvfpal @dannys-dream @josh-iamyour-mama @edgingthedarkness @earthgrlsreasy @hernameis-heaven @mackalah @gvfmarge

Masterlist

#jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka fanfiction #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka fluff #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet smut #gvf fanfic #gvf fics #gvf smut #greta van smut #jake kiszka #greta van fleet

248 notes · View notes

essenceeater · 6 months

Text

"You're ridiculous, I love it." Hanzo Hasashi x GN!Reader.

"I don't see the asks button so I would like to politely request for some goofy ahh Scorpion Hcs because I’m amazing 😘😘😘"

WHY DID NOBODY TELL ME MY REQUESTS WERE OFF?? I SWEAR I TURNED THEM ON. Anyways a lovely fic for my friend @krysphycookiez this is specifically MK11 Hanzo. I hope you enjoy this. This is a mix of romantic and goofy headcanons with a small oneshot. The reader and Hanzo are married cause I said so. -Chaos

Characters: Hanzo Hasashi/Scorpion

Triggers: None that I can think of? Lmk if anything should be tagged here. It's Mortal Kombat, you know what to expect ig?

Requested: Yes

🔓Requests are open at the moment🔓

Link to rules

🔥Hanzo Hasashi, is known for his strong and complex personality. He's a very passionate man, but he's a little goofy when it's just you around.

🔥 Hanzo is fiercely loyal, and in a relationship, he would prioritize his partner's safety and well-being. He'd go to great lengths to protect them. He's seen things he doesn't want you to witness, it would break his heart honestly.

🔥Despite his combat prowess, Hanzo is a terrible cook. GOD AWFUL. His attempts at making a simple sandwich often lead to hilarious disasters in the kitchen. YOU'D THINK FOR BEING ABLE TO CONTROL FIRE HE'D BE PERFECT BUT NO. He's not allowed near ANY kitchens.

🔥 Y'know his friendship finisher? He has a hidden collection of cute plush toys, which he claims are "for training purposes only." He cuddles with them when no one is around. One time you walked in and he was in a huge pile of these plushies, to which you got dragged down into.

🔥Outside of his usual outfit I feel like he dresses like a homeless man 🧍‍♂️

🔥I feel would keep an air of mystery around him, making his partner curious about his past and his fire like abilities. He wouldn't want to involve you in the past even if he's still clinging to it.

🔥Despite this his fiery nature would translate into a passionate and intense love. He'd express his feelings with great emotion.

🔥YOU GET FLOWERS EVERY MONTH BUT SOMETIMES THE STEMS ARE A BIT BURNT.

🔥Despite his agility and combat skills, Hanzo is notoriously clumsy in his everyday life. He often trips over his own feet, slips on banana peels, and crashes into things when not in battle. Imagine you watched him fight someone with no problems, he turns to give you a kiss or something like that and he trips over nothing.

🔥Being serious for a moment, I feel like he will definitely train his partner. God forbid he's not around to defend you and something happens, he doesn't want history to repeat itself.

"My love what are you doing?"

The Earthrealm's warriors were used to the relentless training, the brutal battles, and the life-or-death scenarios. But there was one thing they couldn't quite wrap their heads around Hanzo's newfound obsession: cupcakes.

You were lounging in the living room of your shared home, scrolling through your tablet when you heard an unusual sound coming from the kitchen. Following the curious noise, you discovered your husband furiously whisking a bowl of batter, his mask hanging by his side as if it was just another day at the bakery he doesn't work at.

"What's going on here?" you asked, trying to stifle a laugh as you watched him struggle with a mixer.

Hanzo looked up, his fiery gaze locking onto you but he looked like a dear in headlights. "I have discovered the art of cupcakes," he declared, his voice as serious as ever.

You couldn't help but burst into laughter. "Honey, you're not allowed in the kitchen but you're making cupcakes?"

"Yes," he replied, determination in his eyes. "I was bored..." He mumbled as an excuse, but just the other day you and a friend were talking about wanting cupcakes.

Scorpion continued to wrestle with the mixer as you decided to step in. Gently taking the mixer from his hands with a soft chuckle. Together, you managed to create a lumpy cupcake batter that was a mix of all sorts of ingredients he had found in the kitchen. There were sweet and savory items like ketchup, chocolate chips, and even some mysterious spices. Did you know that? Absolutely not, is that for the better? You'll find out.

With a wink, you handed Hanzo a tray of cupcake liners. "Time to get these in the oven."

He nodded, but then his gaze fell upon the oven as he frowned. "How do I make it... bake with love?" he asked, looking genuinely puzzled. Causing you to giggle in amusement, causing him to break his confused mask he put up and laugh with you.

You smiled and set the oven to the right temperature. As you popped the tray into the oven. Hanzo stepped back, his memory flooding with flashbacks to the last time he used the oven.

A few minutes later, you were both treated to the smell of something that was part chocolate chip cookie, part ketchup-flavored cupcake wafting from the oven. You couldn't help but exchange a look and burst into laughter once again.

Your husband, however, couldn't go back to being serious, he was smiling like a child. "We shall call these 'Kombat Kupcakes,' a deadly delicacy," he announced with pride.

As you both sampled the cupcakes, your taste buds were assaulted by a strange combination of flavors. They weren't the best cupcakes, but there was no denying the effort Hanzo had put into making them.

And in that moment, you couldn't help but think, "You're ridiculous, Hanzo, but I love it."

As the two of you sat there, munching on the bizarre creations, you realized that even a fearsome fire bending ninja like Scorpion had a goofy and endearing side, one that you cherished above all else.

"You're still not allowed to use the kitchen."

"Oh come on I'm not a child!"

147 notes · View notes

kairiscorner · 9 months

Note

I couldn't get the link to copy, so here's my first (and probably terrible) attempt at doing an image ID

A light mode tweet by aphorafterdark[black heart emoji]🔞. It reads: "It's possible to ruin a fictional man's pussy AND do an intellectual deep dive into his character trauma and motivations, and I'm sick of seeing takes implying that us horny bastards aren't also serious scholars of a canon." The tweet has 1,932 retweets, 175 quote retweets, and 5,559 likes. End ID

I hope this helps

OHHHH THANKS !! lmao yeah miggy does have the right to be horrified 😭😭😭 i'm sorry if this isn't what you asked for, but i do hope you enjoy it !!

original ask: "So you know that screenshot of a tweet that complains about horny fans not being taken seriously by the rest of the fandom? So my idea is this: a y/n who's from a universe where Miguel and the like are fiction, and she's scrolling through her dash when Miguel walks past and sees it. He's slightly horrified, and his reaction's absolutely hilarious for y/n who isn't even fazed by the screenshot. IDK if this is completely in your boundaries, but since the iffy stuff is only mentioned, it shouldn't hurt to ask. If you're not comfortable doing it, could you point me in the direction of an author who is?"

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

content warnings! mild mentions and suggestions of... not so family-friendly stuff ^^

"what in the–puta madre, what is that?" miguel asks as he squints and asks lyla to fetch his reading glasses for him. the AI summons them immediately on his desk and he scrambles for them as he looks at what you showed him on your phone. you chuckled at miguel's reaction, it was just like yours when you first happened upon tweets of people from all kinds of dimensions that know about the dimension you and the others lived in, it's just that to these netizens, you guys were fiction–imaginary works.

you happened upon them again as you went through your feed, and miguel glanced over at what you were looking at because you chuckled a little at the tweet. he got curious, and because you were such a nice friend, you showed it to him all nonchalantly. "'i want miguel o'hara to blank me in the blank until i memorize every vein, until my uterus is the shape of his blank, until i see different galaxies, and comfort him about his traumas. i can psychoanalyze this motherfucker while giving him the best head ever'–what the fuck is wrong with these... ay, puta." he read aloud as you erupted in peals of laughter.

"man, earth-1218 is crazy. i love how much they love you, miggy." you teased him as miguel tiredly walked over to his desk and muttered to lyla if him finding that tweet and all these forms of suggestive, horny, perverted yet somehow sympathetic, comforting, and rational media out there on the internet of earth-1218 is a canon event, to which she said, "big shock yeah man, it had to happen."

miguel sighed as you found even more interesting things on your feed, and all of it was about miguel's less traumatic, but still very horrifying, canon event of discovering internet people want to fuck with and discuss all about his character. "am i just that, a character on a screen, on a comic book for these... desperate, horny, yet so... insightful people?" he asked underneath his breath as you showed lyla some interesting 18+ art if him. "looks like they tried to get it right, though i know you're... a lot bigger than that." "not another word." he said as he said as he ran a hand across his face and sighed deeply.

looks like he won't be visiting earth-1218 for a while.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @fiannee @jrrantss @fictarian @yuridopted0 @luvstarrstruck @maxoloqy

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara fanfiction #atsv #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 #atsv x reader #atsv x you #atsv x y/n #atsv imagines #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse imagines

62 notes · View notes

metalomagnetic · 9 months

Note

For the 'Get to know your fic author game'. 3, 16, 23 and 35. Sorry for the asks that I am sending. I really enjoy reading your answers and fics.

3.Describe the creative process of writing a chapter/fic.

For a fic idea, in general, I don't have to do anything. It just comes to me, at the oddest of times; while sitting in a line, somewhere, bored, or when I attempt to sleep, but can't. Other times, I am inspired by a piece of art, or a movie, or reading a book.

Once the idea comes, I focus on finding out the motivations of the characters involved. All of them, even the side ones. After that, I see where they lead me, chapter by chapter, even if I usually have an end game in mind, and a few major plot points already established. I put on some music, and I imagines situations that would best help my readers discover the characters I imagine, layer by layer. That is why my chapters are out of control long, sometimes, because I don't have the discipline to plan, just the drive to develop the characters and the way they relate to each other.

16. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Share one of them?

Too many ideas to count. But probably only 5 of those will ever see themselves written down.

The one that I will share as soon as my WIPS are done, has been in the back of my mind for almost a year now. A time traveling Sirius with Tom Riddle, at Hogwarts in the 40s. A Sirius that doesn't know Tom Riddle is Voldemort. I cannot wait to write that one down. I am sure it will be great fun.

23. Best writing advice for other writers.

I know I said it before, and it is a cliche, but it's a cliche for good reason. Write like no one sees what you are writing, because no one will see that first draft. Feel no pressure- it is your draft, it is private and have fun with it. Don't stress over typos or grammar, don't stress over plot points. Write what most you want to read yourself, what makes you giddy and full of emotions. After you are done, after you got what *you* wanted from it, you can start to edit it, to correct things, change them up, or add more believable plot points to connect it all.

If, for example, you are like me and struggle with descriptions but have a great idea for a dialogue exchange, write just that. The dialog. Don't interrupt your creative flow to try to write fillers to put in-between blocks of dialog. Go for it, and once you're done with what you wanted, you can go back in and add more descriptions to the setting, or character facial expressions etc.

Same for when, say, you can't think how to connect two events. You have the events, but not the connector. It's fine, don't stress about it, you'll come up with it later.

Always, when you're in the mood for writing, or have an idea, just write only what you are interested in, nothing else.

35. What is one essential thing to remember when writing a villain?

That they are human. (Well, in case your work is about humans, that is 😂 I can't help with other species.)

The villain, whether they are your main character, your POV character, or simply a side character that makes brief appearances to pester the hero- remember the villain has wants and needs of their own, that they are just as human as you or the hero are.

Whether they are the most evil person to exist, or simply misguided, they are still a person.

Most villains out there aren't aware they are villains; that is something to keep in mind as well. From real life villains, to fictional ones, most of them don't do stuff just to be *Evil*, but there is a deeper emotion that drives them- whether it is an ideology, whether it is self-righteousnes or anger, there is always something.

Don't be afraid to give your villain a spouse, or a pet, or a hobby, a child, a vice. It won't make them less of a villain, it will simply make them human. They don't have to be evil at all hours of the day to remain a villain. They can have a garden they tend to every morning, and order the imprisonment of their political rivals by lunch.

They can order the deaths of hundreds one minute, and enjoy spoiling their pet parrot the next.

(I got other asks that wanted an answer to a variation of these 4 questions, so I decided to pick this one, since he has all of them)

43 notes · View notes

beefromanoff · 6 months

Text

Project Mockingbird Ch. 5

summary: Natasha and Bruce have different ideas on how to help Charlotte. Natasha's way wins.

pairing: Bucky Barnes x OC

author's note: let me know what you think! thanks for reading, xox!

tag list: @bangtanxberm (let me know if you want to be added <3)

chapter list

_________________________________________________________

Sunlight filtered through the tinted windows, casting delicate shadows across the sterile white walls of the hospital wing. Charlotte blinked, the soft hum of machinery and distant chatter gradually pulling her back to consciousness. The events of the previous day flooded her mind, the endless battery of tests and experiments, the barrage of questions from Dr. Banner and Tony Stark, the scabs around her wrists from the restraints she’d thrashed into.

Still not the worst place I’ve woken up.

Her eyes flicked to the state-of-the-art equipment surrounding her. Tubes and monitors blinked with clinical precision, their data feeding into sleek screens that could display a myriad of complex graphs and charts. Even with all the screens dark, all the tubes and wires hanging limp off of them, the environment made her skin crawl. She was acutely aware of the high-tech lab setting, a stark contrast to the comfort of her own room in the compound.

One night. I only got to enjoy it for one night before all this shit caught up with me.

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, attempting to steady her racing thoughts. They found the problem. She reminded herself, her fingers absently tracing the edge of the crisp hospital sheet. They’re the best scientists in the world. How hard can it really be to fix if we found the problem in one day?

After hours and hours of testing, scanning, and an ultimate hail-mary experiment with the man himself -- they’d discovered that her violent aversion to James Barnes was linked to certain olfactory triggers. The implications of this breakthrough raced through her mind. She remembered fragments of her time with HYDRA, but the conditioning had taken place so early, so long ago. It was the first thing they did to her. That was one of the bigger question marks she had about what was done to her.

As she stirred in the hospital bed, she anticipated their return, eager to get started so she could get the hell out of here. She longed for the day when she could walk around the compound, or the world, without the looming dread of her own actions. Yet, beneath the anticipation lingered a sliver of apprehension, a fear of the unknown. What if this doesn’t work? What if they screwed me up too much?

With a sigh, she shifted her gaze to the ceiling. Despite her fears, she clung to the possibility of a future unburdened by the shackles of her conditioning.

In the daze of her worry, the room's atmosphere shifted from anticipation to warmth. The door slid open, and in walked Natasha, her arms laden with an impressive assortment of breakfast items. Behind her, a younger brunette who Charlotte recognized as Peter Parker, carried an impressive tower of pancakes, while Steve balanced a tray stacked with an array of pastries.

"Surprise!" Natasha announced, plopping down on the foot of the bed.

Charlotte couldn't help but smile, the knot of tension in her chest loosening at the heartfelt gesture and friendly faces. "Wow, you weren’t kidding.”

“We don’t joke about food around here.”

With practiced efficiency, they transformed her hospital bed into a makeshift banquet table, the three of them pulling chairs up beside the bed. The room was soon filled with the mouthwatering aroma of freshly brewed coffee, the sweet scent of syrup, and the comforting richness of pastries. All sterile scents had long since been forgotten.

Whether their plan was to distract her or they were just a naturally chatty group, Charlotte didn’t know nor care. As she picked apart the biggest blueberry muffin she’d ever seen, Peter launched into yet another story about his college life.

“I told him, sir, please - I was literally stopping a bank from being robbed, he still wouldn’t let me retake the test! I mean come on, it’s art history. Who even decided that art history was a necessary college course! He’s just out to get me, I swear.” He paused to take a gulp of orange juice.

Natasha laughed and reached for the last piece of bacon. “No good deed goes unpunished.”

The conversation was easy, the trio clearly comfortable with each other. Charlotte was perfectly content to sit back and listen, savoring one of the few meals that was actually close to satiating her endless appetite.

Just as Peter opened his mouth to speak again, the door slid open. A disheveled Dr. Banner, stood holding a tablet, looking like he hadn’t slept at all since she saw him last. "Hi, good morning, I uh, think I've found a solution," he announced, his voice carrying a note of cautious optimism. “Is that coffee?”

Charlotte's heart skipped a beat. Hope surged within her, mingling with a thread of trepidation. Steve poured Bruce a cup of coffee which he graciously accepted.

With a deep breath, she nodded, her voice steady despite feeling the exact opposite on the inside. "Let's do it. Whatever you think."

“Okay, I’ve run through this every way I can imagine, making sure I’m considering everything. All in all, it seems like a simple fix. I mean, it makes sense, if we look at the timeline of…well, it wouldn’t exactly have been advanced technology they used. So it seems incredibly simple, but for the time, it would have been a massive breakthrough,” He was careful with his words, trying to avoid anything too callous, despite his obvious excitement about the discovery.

The sterile white walls of the room seemed to close in on Charlotte as she listened to Dr. Banner's explanation. His voice felt distant, overshadowed by the memories of past experiments and the cold, clinical environment of laboratories she had desperately tried to forget. Her eyes must have glazed over as she fought against the rising panic in her chest as the words surgery and minimally invasive floated through her stupor.

"I understand your concerns, Charlotte," Bruce said gently, his eyes filled with empathy. "But this procedure is straightforward. It'll be quick, and you won't feel a thing. We'll make sure you're comfortable and safe the entire time."

Steve placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Bruce is right," he said, his tone steady and calming. "We're here for you. This will be over before you know it. You’re in great hands here.”

Despite Steve's comforting words, anxiety clawed at Charlotte's chest. The very idea of another medical procedure triggered a visceral reaction, a surge of fear rooted deep in her past traumas. Just as panic threatened to overwhelm her, Natasha spoke, her piercing eyes locked onto Charlotte's.

"Do you trust me?" Natasha asked, her voice calm, but there was an intensity in her gaze that demanded an honest answer.

Charlotte met her eyes, finding solidarity in the closest thing she had to a friend. She nodded slowly. "I do," she replied, her voice a whisper.

“Peter, move the food.”

He cocked an eyebrow, but immediately gathered the few trays left on the bed and relocated them to a table in the corner of the room.

Without warning, Natasha's hand shot out, the heel of her palm colliding with Charlotte's nose in a swift, controlled motion. Pain exploded through Charlotte's face, and her head snapped back, shock and confusion flooding her senses. Blood gushed from her nose, hot and sticky.

In the stunned silence that followed, Charlotte felt a strange sensation, like a fence around her mind had been torn down. Once the initial shock subsided, Charlotte let out a disbelieving laugh, the metallic taste of blood on her tongue.

"Thank you," she said to Natasha, her eyes shimmering with tears, only half from the blow. "That was…preferable."

“I figured.” Nat winked, squeezing her shoulder. I knew I liked her.

“Well, could you at least let me clean it up a bit?” Bruce winced, handing her a wad of tissues and squinting to examine the damage. Charlotte tilted her head back and applied pressure, blood immediately soaking and reducing them to a soggy, crimson mess.

“Hang on,” Her voice came out thick as a result of her mangled nose. Cupping it on either side, Charlotte took a deep breath and yanked. The crunch of the reset made all three men grimace, with Peter gasping as he covered his face. “Okay, I think I did that right. It’s been a while.”

She noticed their horrified looks as she wiped a trail of blood off her upper lip. “What, you’ve never had to reset a broken nose before?”

“We uh, usually leave that part to the professionals.” Steve gave a grim smile.

“Well, in my experience, the professionals only care about functionality, and you can still fight with a broken nose. Call me high maintenance, but I prefer my nose to be somewhat straight. So I picked up that little party trick.”

Even Natasha’s eyes softened, just for a moment. The nonchalance with which she spoke about her past was unnerving. It begged the question of what horrors she’d experienced that she couldn’t talk about, if these kinds of remarks seemed to roll off her tongue as easily as a story about her breakfast.

When Bruce had cleaned her up, insisting on packing her nose with cotton so it would heal correctly, the group left her alone to change into a spare Stark Industries sweatshirt that had been left in the lab.

Meanwhile, Steve strode out of the building to find Bucky. He located him in the training area, his expression focused as he sparred with Sam. Steve approached the ring, his voice carrying a note of urgency. "Bucky, we need you in the lab. It's important."

Curiosity flickered in Bucky's eyes as he lowered his hands from their defensive posture.

“It’s Charlotte. Bruce thinks he broke the conditioning.”

When they’d returned to the medical wing, they paused before turning down the hall to her room, waiting for a signal. As an added precaution, Charlotte had insisted on being restrained again, although she didn’t argue when they said the IV would be unnecessary this time. Wrist strapped down, electrodes taped to her head and chest, and the glowing model of her brain projected in the corner of the room, she nodded to Dr. Banner.

“Alright, Steve, we’re good to go. Come on in, Buck.”

Charlotte sucked in a deep breath, aware that her heart beat was quickening by the pounding in her ears and the beeping on the monitor. She heard the methodical footsteps again, approaching her open doorway. Finally, he turned the corner.

He was as tall as Steve, slightly stockier. His dark hair had been tied back in a tiny ponytail, and the ring of sweat around the collar of his gray shirt told her he had come from a workout. His shoulders were slightly rounded, tense, as though he could spring into action at a moment’s notice. The way he stood, his left side was slightly hidden from view. Despite the shadow, the metallic glint of his arm caught her eye. Vibranium. Very painful when it hits you. Another unwelcome memory came knocking in her mind as Steve followed his friend in the room.

Everyone seemed to hold their breath. Dr. Banner, anxiously checking all the readings. Nat and Peter, hovering quietly in the corner of the room. Bucky and Charlotte as they locked eyes, far from the first time.

How many times have I seen those eyes, this face, and yet I don’t think we’ve ever actually met. Not really. Not when we’re us.

"Charlotte, this is James Bucky Barnes," Steve stepped forward, smiling softly. "Bucky, meet Charlotte Rossi."

Bucky nodded, a tight lipped smile on his face. "Nice to meet you, Charlotte."

Charlotte blushed, a reaction she hadn’t prepared for in the absence of her violent rampage. "Hi. I, uh, I'm sorry for how I acted…before," She paused, hoping he’d know she wasn’t just talking about the past two days.

“Don’t mention it.” His eyes crinkled in the corners. “Seriously.”

Bruce's eyes widened with amazement as he studied the data on his screen. "It worked!" he exclaimed, frantically pointing at the hologram, still glowing gold. He turned and embraced the closest person to him, who was a bewildered looking Peter. "We did it!"

Peter, still in a state of shock, smiled as Bruce set him back on the ground. "Didn’t doubt it for a second, Dr. Banner!”

“WOO! Yes! Oh, sorry - “ Bruce had raised his hand to high-five Charlotte before realizing her wrists were still strapped to the bed. “Let me just…okay, there you go!” He hugged her as soon as he released the second restraint, catching her by surprise.

“Oh!” She stiffened instinctively, but relaxed her shoulders to welcome his excited gesture. “Thank you, Dr. Banner…Bruce, seriously!”

“Alright, let’s not land her back in here for crushing chest wounds.” Steve chuckled, putting a hand on Bruce’s shoulder.

“Ah, yes, sorry! It’s just that these things, getting a breakthrough, gah! It just gets me so jazzed.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Man, I love science.”

Bucky couldn't help but let a small smile slip through. He extended a hand toward Charlotte, his eyes reflecting a mix of relief lingering reservations. "Congratulations. This is one of the good days."

She put her hand in his and he squeezed it, quick and light, before letting go. One of the good days. The words may have seemed vague and ambiguous to everyone else, but they hit home for her. When decades of your life had been lost to a string of one bad day after the next, the good ones really stuck out. Especially when dealing with an inordinate amount of trauma, sometimes the bad days persisted even in the good times. They were unavoidable.

But today was one of the good ones.

Natasha, clearly not one for the touchy feely part, spoke up. "Well, now that you're officially not a threat to the lives of those in this room, I say we celebrate."

Peter nodded eagerly, looking at Steve who shrugged. “Yeah, sure, why not. Training will be there tomorrow.”

“Yes! I love off days, I feel like we never do anything fun anymore.” Peter pumped his fist before noticing Steve’s raised eyebrow. “I mean, not that training isn’t fun, I love training. I could train all day. You know what? I think I’ll do extra training tomorr -”

“Hush,” Natasha put her hand over his mouth. “Here’s what we’re gonna do. Steve, tell the recruits they’re working out on their own today. Finish their assigned routines and then take the afternoon off. Peter, get the football, the speaker, and the big blanket. Bruce, finish whatever report you’re itching to write about this and then log off for the day. Buck, go take a shower. You smell like sweat socks. Meet us by the lake in an hour.”

“And where are you guys going?” Steve raised an eyebrow, gesturing to both women.

Natasha grinned and started removing electrodes from the brunette, one by one.

“To get Charlotte the hell out of here.”

A little over an hour later, they traipsed down a paved path to the lake. Natasha carried a picnic basket full of snacks and drinks, although they were at most two hundred yards from the main cafeteria building. The sound of music grew louder as they approached the dock. Peter had laid out a large, thick blanket across the wooden boards, a portable speaker weighing down one of the corners.

Steve stood talking to Bucky, who’s hair was still wet from the shower. The back of his sweatshirt was decorated with pinpricks of water. The sound of shoes on the dock made them pause their conversation and turn.

“Long time no see.” Natasha thrust the picnic basket into Steve’s hands, grinning. “Barnes, you smell much better.”

“Feeling the love, Nat.” He rolled his eyes, hanging back as Steve followed her to the end of the dock. Charlotte hesitated, still a little reserved with her newfound mental autonomy. “Hey.”

“Hi,” She smiled, wincing as her nose crinkled. “Ow.”

“That looks awful.” He frowned.

“Now I’m feeling the love.” Charlotte narrowed her eyes, teasing.

“No, I mean - shit. I meant it looks painful.”

“I’m kidding. I avoided any and all mirrors on the way here. It always looks worse than it is.”

“Well, I know from experience that Nat doesn’t pull her punches, so I’m sure it didn’t tickle.” He offered a half smile, brows furrowed with concern.

“Guess I better get my mind off of it.” She pursed her lips, feeling more herself now that she didn’t fear her own actions. Bucky’s eyes scanned her face, she couldn’t tell if he was assessing the injury or really looking at her for the first time. She swore she saw his eyes linger on her mouth for just a fraction of a second.

“Guess so.”

Hours later, the sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm glow across the Compound. It was a perfect fall day, the air crisp, the lake sparkling under the sunlight. Truly unbeatable, especially for their day of celebration. They’d spent the afternoon talking, letting Charlotte get to know them. Although she seemed comfortable enough, Natasha had discreetly reminded them that it was still her first week in an unfamiliar place with perfect strangers. Over stories, snacks and general shit-shooting, they’d become a little further from strangers and a little closer to friends.

Just a little.

Sitting on the edge of the dock, their legs dangling over the water, Steve grinned at Peter. "Hey, Parker, you thinking what I’m thinking?" He held up the football.

Peter leapt up, landing in a crouch. "Always, Cap."

"Go long!" Steve called, his voice echoing across the water.

In a swift movement, he hurled the football with a strength that only a super-soldier possessed. It soared through the air, a perfect spiral against the backdrop of the clear sky.

Peter grinned as he launched himself into the air, shooting a web across the lake to a massive tree. He swung gracefully over the lake, his eyes locked on the football. With a perfectly timed web-shoot, he snatched it from the air, the impact making a satisfying thud against his palm.

"Nice catch, kid!" Sam called out, standing. “Damn, I knew I should have brought the wings.” He paused. “Yeah, I’ll be right back.”

Bucky walked to the edge of the dock, mock flexing his biceps. "You're not the only one with a half decent throwing arm, old man."

Steve chuckled, his competitive spirit ignited. "Let's see what you've got, Buck."

Peter dropped back on the dock with a soft thud. Charlotte and Natasha were sprawled across the blanket, leaning back on their elbows. They exchanged an amused glance at the show of testosterone.

Holding his hand out for the football, Bucky strode to the edge of the dock. He shot Steve an arrogant look before turning and hurling the football. It cut through the air, disappearing almost instantly.

“Oh, shit!” Peter stumbled over his feet as he leapt to chase after the football.

“I got it!” A gust of wind blew through across the dock, ruffling everyone’s hair. Looking up, Charlotte saw Sam soaring across the lake towards Peter and the long-disappeared football.

“Dammit, Bruce never came out here, did he?” Natasha narrowed her eyebrows. “Oh well, his loss.”

“Okay, you had a head start.” Peter protested as he dropped back on the dock beside Sam, who held the football like a trophy.

“Whatever stops the tears, kid.”

The friendly competition between super soldiers intensified over the next hour, each determined to outdo the other.

“Alright, I think I’m warmed up now.” Bucky's blue eyes looked mischievous as he glanced back at the girls, a teasing smirk playing on his lips before he released the football with all his strength.

The ball sailed through the air, Sam and Peter taking off after it. Sam got there faster, but Peter's acrobatic finesse won the day. He caught the football mid-air, swinging back to the dock where he immediately collapsed on his back. "I tap out, guys! I need a break."

Natasha smirked. "Getting old, Spidey?"

Peter feigned offense, panting dramatically. "Not all of us are super soldiers!"

Chuckling, Steve clapped a hand on Peter's shoulder. "Good job, Pete. You earned the break."

"I must be getting soft, letting the kid beat me." Sam shook his head, landing beside them.

“Alright, this pissing contest was getting old anyways.” Natasha stood to her feet. “I’m thinking pizza and shitty action movies for the next phase of our day off. Yes?”

“Yes,” Charlotte joined her. “I’m starving.”

They packed up and headed back for their building, Nat making a point to linger at the back of the group. She raised an eyebrow at Bucky. "If I didn't know any better, Barnes, I'd say you were trying to impress our newest addition."

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Don’t do this.”

“Do what?” She mocked innocence.

“Try to play matchmaker, like always.”

“She’s pretty.”

“Yeah, sure, she’s pretty.” He gave her a dirty look. “But she was also hell bent on ripping my head off until, oh yeah, this morning.”

Natasha shrugged. “That was then.”

Groaning, Bucky shook his head. “I think she’s got more on her mind than finding a date to the prom.”

“Hm, prom sounds like fun. Maybe we should have one here.” She winked.

“You’re impossible.”

#james bucky barnes #avengers #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes #bucky fluff #bucky fanfic #sebastian stan #winter soldier fluff #winter soldier #winter solider x reader

25 notes · View notes

janetbrown711 · 1 year

Text

Best Worst Mistake

Tang comes back from a college trip to discover his partner adopted a kid in his absence and also needs him to care for the kid the next day.

Only problem is that Tang has no idea what to do with him.

Psst-- this fic was inspired by @ChopshopT 's fan art on Twitter, so go give that some love <3

If you like this you may enjoy my Dadsy of Two au!

Ao3 Link

“Oh my great sage– you did not–”

“I-i didn’t mean to-! H-he just kinda– you know– showed up!”

“You don’t accidentally adopt a kid Pigsy!”

“It was late at night! Practically closing hours! I had to make sure no creep ran off with ‘im.”

“Okay, but keeping him?! This is– this is crazy! You said you never wanted kids!”

“I know, I know– not exactly like it was an option before– but–” Pigsy sighed.

“Look… I know it’s sudden– I know we’ve talked about it– but… you know I can’t turn him into the police– it’ll ruin us both,” Pigsy looked his shaggy haired partner in the eyes.

Tang sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose, lifting his glasses as he did.

“How old is he?” He asked.

Pigsy sighed. “I don’t know– I just know that he was practically starving when I found him– not to mention naked and caked in dirt.”

If it weren’t for the sleeping child in the booth, Tang would’ve exclaimed, “he was naked???? Why didn’t you call the authorities???? What about his parents??? Did you even look around???” but he refrained.

“Does he have a name? Parents? Anything???” Tang asked instead.

Pigsy shook his head. “I stayed open a whole two hours more seeing if any’d walk by, but it’s been a week now, and I’ve had to basically close the restaurant to make sure he doesn’t get into anything– which you already know we can’t really afford– but I did– and nobody walked by.”

“A guy leaves for one week for a campus excursion to Shaolin Temple, and everything changes,” Tang laughed in an attempt to release his nerves.

“Y-yeah, I know this ain’t exactly ideal– I just–” Pigsy looked at the kid. “I didn’t know what to do without you here,” The chef confessed, and Tang kissed his cheek, but Pigsy turned and held his hands.

“So… whatever you thinks right– we’ll do it. Anything– leaving him on a doorstep, turning him into the police– anything. It’s your call,” Pigsy looked the scholar straight in the eyes.

“Woah– I-i don’t know– I-i just– I mean I know what’s legal and this– uh– isn’t– but–” Tang looked again at the kid snoozing away, and for the first time Tang noticed he was using Pigsy’s chef’s shirt as a blanket and stars above if it wasn’t the cutest fucking thing Tang had ever seen ever–

“Does he… like you?” Tang asked.

“Well– I uh– I think so..? I dunno, he doesn’t talk much, though he draws things sometimes– and he’s actually kinda good for a kid his age– and he listens to me when I explain things and he seems to really like living in our place– though I guess he’ll need a bed of his own with you back– I just– I don’t know,” Pigsy blushed and looked away. “I’m asking you though because I know you said you didn’t want kids ever either, so…”

Right.

“I…” Tang pulled on his scarf. “I kinda lied– I’m sorry– I know I shouldn’t have, but when you were talking about your dad and stuff and how you thought you’d make a bad father I was just like ‘oh yeah totally I get that, no kids, I’d never want any either, haha’ and you know– being gay doesn’t help, and if that wasn’t enough, being a human/demon couple means adoption would be off the table even if we weren’t gay and so i just kinda accepted it because I knew it just wouldn’t be possible– but as a kid I thought it’d be nice to have kids because I do like them– but also as I’ve gotten older I’ve gotten like– really bad with them, and I like– don’t know how to interact with them or do with them but i mean–” Tang took a deep breath.

“I’m okay if you’re okay.”

“Wow– that’s… a lot to process, but… if you’re sure..?” Pigsy still looked at him for confirmation.

Tang nodded. “I am.”

A smile slowly grew on the chef’s face. “O-okay then! W-we– we have a kid then!”

“We have a kid then,” Tang laughed. Upon realizing how crazy he sounded, he started to ramble.

“We have a kid, Pigsy-! Oh stars above, what do you even do with those little things??? you feed them, teach them– Maybe I can pick up some books from the library– what about vaccines? We have no way of knowing his records– we don’t even know his birthday!” He shook Pigsy’s shoulders.

“Hm…” Pigsy tapped his chin, then shrugged. “Maybe we can just say it was a week ago when I found him– and he looks about two, don’t he?”

“I know nothing about kids, Pigsy– and neither do you but–” Tang sighed. “If we don’t want him nabbed overseas, this is probably what's best– and who knows, maybe he can find his real parents one day.”

“Yeah, that– uh– makes sense,” Pigsy nodded with slight hesitation.

“So… where’s he gonna sleep?” Tang then asked.

Pigsy thought for a moment. “Well I don’t think we can afford a bed for him yet– or even a mattress- and he is kind of accustomed to our bed so..?”

“...You like cuddling with him, don’t you?”

“Our heating sucks! I couldn’t leave ‘im on the couch– that’s not safe– and yeah, maybe missed cuddlin’ with you– it was a whole week Tang! A week!” Pigsy defended his honor.

Tang burst into laughter. “You looooove me.”

“Shut up,” Pigsy’s face was a deep shade of red as he playfully pushed his partner away.

“Aw, it’s okay Piggy, I missed you too,” Tang kissed his forehead.

“Yeah, yeah,” Pigsy waved him off, his face still red as he went and scooped up the kid, who wasn’t disturbed the slightest by the transfer.

He looked so little and scrawny in Pigsy’s arms– fragile too.

How on earth a kid that small could just wander around Megapolis all covered in dirt and mud– it didn’t make even the slightest bit of sense to Tang. He especially wondered how anyone would let him– whoever this kid’s parents were, he wasn’t sure the kid should ever meet them, even if the opportunity arises.

As he looked at him more, the more Tang realized Pigsy was a total natural– swaying ever so slightly and supporting all the right things to keep him comfortable and upright. Tang watched for a moment, just kind of smiling like an idiot before Pigsy realized he was staring and his face flushed.

“W-what?” He asked, shifting the kid.

“Oh, nothing,” Tang waved him off, grabbing his suitcase while being unable to stop smiling. “Does the kid have a name?”

Pigsy shrugged. “When I gave him crayons, he wrote ‘MK’ so–? I dunno, we’ll have to figure that out later.”

“I don’t know– I kinda like MK– I think it suits him,” Tang looked at the kid.

“I kinda think so too– it’s just that that’s not long enough to legally count, so… I’ll work something out– I know a guy in fake IDs, we’ll see,” Pigsy shrugged. “Could you get the alarm?”

Tang obliged, doing the closing duties for Pigsy when MK suddenly started to stir in Pigsy’s arms.

“Hey there sleepyhead,” Pigsy chuckled softly. “How’re you?”

The kid blinked and rubbed his eyes, before noticing Tang and gasping, quickly burying his head into Pigsy’s chest.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. That’s just Tang, remember? I talked about him a lot. He’s my partner, he’s gonna be living with us,” Pigsy rubbed the kids back.

Slowly but surely the kid turned his head back towards Tang, looking at him with big, dark brown eyes.

“Um… Hi, MK,” Tang waved awkwardly.

After a moment of intense study, the kid let one of his hands release Pigsy’s shirt and he waved to Tang with a smile.

Tang let out a surprised laugh and waved right back again.

“Looks like he likes you already,” Pigsy chuckled. “Usually he doesn’t even look at strangers.”

“Well that’s a relief,” Tang said. “Let’s get going to bed though– I’m exhausted from all the train rides.”

“Alright, let’s go,” Pigsy agreed, and after Tang turned off all the lights, the three of them headed up the stairs and into their apartment above the restaurant in all its one-bedroom glory.

Once upstairs, Tang got changed into his usual robe and silk pajamas, and Pigsy into his usual tank top and pajama bottoms– though Tang nearly lost it when he saw how Pigsy dressed MK for bed– literally just one of his old tank tops and wearing his socks– which were easily about three times too big.

“One of these days we’re gonna need actual money,” Tang joked as Pigsy put MK down on the bed. “He probably should have some real pajamas.”

“What? You don’t think it’s cute?” Pigsy half-joked.

“I never said that,” Tang rolled his eyes, taking off his glasses and setting them on his nightstand.

Just as he was going to turn his lamp off, MK started making noises, and pulling on Tang’s sleeve urgently.

“Yes, MK?” Tang asked.

“Oh– he– umm– is thinking you’ll sing to him,” Pigsy explained.

Tang gasped. “You sing to him?”

Pigsy blushed even deeper than before. “I– um– just a little– lullabies and all that when he wakes.”

“That’s the cutest thing I have ever heard,” Tang fawned at the blurry blob that was Pigsy. He then looked at MK– who was a little bit clearer. “I’m– uh– sorry, I can’t sing like Pigsy can. Go ask him.” He didn’t know if that was enough and so patted the kids head lightly twice before wanting to die of embarrassment.

The kid didn’t seem to care, as he just turned to look at Pigsy, who looked at Tang, his face still red as ever.

“You can’t laugh at me Tang.”

Tang let out an offended gasp. “Why would I ever laugh at you?”

“Because it feels stupid– I–” Pigsy sighed. “Just– pretend to sleep.”

“Alright, if it helps,” Tang teased him a little before turning the light off and laying down to ‘sleep’.

He was turned away on his side when Pigsy began humming a little tune for MK– the Eastern Cradle Song, if Tang remembered. It was incredibly soothing, and the kid was knocked out like a light in a matter of moments.

It reminded him how much he missed Pigsy’s singing– he hadn’t sang since– forever.

When it was finished, Pigsy layed down, cuddling with MK on the outside, so Tang rolled over and wrapped his arms around Pigsy.

“You sing like an angel,” He mumbled, pressing a tired kiss against his shoulders.

Pigsy laughed a little and cozied to his partner’s embrace, and the new family of three fell asleep.

.o0o.

Pigsy’s alarm had a terrible, terrible habit of going off when Tang didn’t want it to. Every morning, Pigsy blindly fumbled for the button, disturbing his most peaceful of slumber, until his precious, precious warmth was stolen from Tang.

“Pigggyyyyyy,” Tang pleaded with his lover when he could already shift to get up, even though he only hit the alarm five seconds ago.

“Tang, I gotta open shop– you know this. I know this,” Pigsy kissed his head.

“But it's so coooold without youuuuu,” Tang begged some more. If Tang was bothering to open his eyes (and also wasn’t blind as a bat without his glasses), he bet he’d be seeing Pigsy rolling his eyes.

“Pigsy sighed and hugged Tang, which the scholar mistook as a sign he had won and snuggled right back to him.

However this was not the case, as Pigsy kissed his head again and said, “Look, it’s gonna be my first time opening in a week– we need the money and you gotta study for finals so– can you watch the kid for me?”

Kid? What kid?

Tang opened his eyes, blinking at the sunlight before recognizing the blob on the other side of Pigsy and instantly recalling the previous day’s ventures.

“I-i– yeah, I guess that can be done,” Tang forced himself to sit up and stretch before he put on his glasses so he could finally see how relieved and thankful Pigsy looked.

“Great– so I’ll make a quick breakfast for you two, and then I’ll head on down to open,” Pigsy ruffled MK’s hair before getting up and getting dressed.

“Wait– you’re gonna head down? You’re–” Tang gasped dramatically– “You’re banishing me to this apartment?!”

“Tang– he’s just– This is a contained space. The public ain’t. And we need money, and besides, whenever you ‘study’ down there, all you do is give me googly eyes,” Pigsy pointed out, buttoning his chef’s shirt.

“Bah, you love my googly eyes,” Tang stated.

“Kid needs to be watched either way, Tang,” Pigsy snarked.

Tang looked at the kid, who to his surprise was looking right at him.

Tang gave a small wave and the kid waved back.

“Does he even talk?” Tang asked.

“Not much– yet,” Pigsy said, locating his socks and shoes and getting on the bed to put them on, to which MK got up and wrapped his arms around Pigsy’s neck, which made the demon laugh.

“He is a clinger though– hence why I don’t think it’s best to have him downstairs,” Pigsy patted MK’s arm with an affectionate smile.

“‘I don’t want kids’ my ass,” Tang thought with a tsk.

“Alright, alright, I hear you,” Tang said aloud before he cracked his back and started getting dressed while Pigsy went to make the three of them breakfast, MK still attached.

Once dressed and his hair thoroughly brushed and combed, Tang emerged from the bedroom to the wondrous sight of Pigsy’s rice noodles. If there was one thing Tang missed on his little excursion, it was his beloved Piggy’s cooking– not to mention free food.

Of course, Tang wasn’t “allowed” free food during business hours, but Tang “somehow” managed most days– and maybe he’d stop by for lunch or dinner because if there was one other thing Tang missed, it was his teasing.

Tang picked up his chopsticks and the moment noodles hit his tongue, he practically melted into goo.

“Pigsy, your food is soooooooo good,” He exalted.

“Wow, you really think so? Maybe I should be a chef,” Pigsy grinned, but Tang was too in heaven to give any kind of retort.

“Alright, well it’s roughly–” Pigsy looked at the clock and jumped, “ – 8:15, so I gotta get going.”

The chef then tried to get MK off of him, but once the small child realized what he was doing, he seemed to gain a death grip that Pigsy attempted and failed to loosen until Tang got involved and practically peeled him off of Pigsy’s back.

Naturally, this made MK start crying.

“Hey, hey, hey– I’ll be back I promise, I just gotta work and make money so we can get you real clothes more than the two outfits I found in a donation bin, alright?” Pigsy tried to assure MK in Tang’s arms, but from a distance so the kid didn’t try to latch on again. It didn’t really work, and Pigsy chewed his lip frantically as he tried to think.

Eventually he came up with an idea and hung his head a little.

“What? What’s the matter?” Tang asked, attempting to bounce MK but failing pretty miserably.

“Pretend you’re not listening,” Pigsy ordered, and Tang realized he was going to sing again.

“Do my sleepy words mean nothing to you?” Tang sighed dramatically before Pigsy gave him a look and so Tang obeyed, looking away (because his hands were full– what exactly Pigsy expected, Tang didn’t know but he was fine with it so whatever).

He then started singing the Song of the Sunshine, which he’d clearly sung with MK before because of just how strong and positive his reaction was. Most importantly, it got him to stop crying, and after a brief hug and a passing of tissue, the tears stopped entirely.

Pigsy was about to head out, though right as he touched the doorknob, he snapped and turned back to Tang.

“I have a library book on the coffee table about kids his age you can read when he’s napping and/or you finish studying– oh by the way, he naps around one and usually sleeps for an hour but after that he’s hungry but lunch is before nap time at noon, so just give him some of the peach snacks I have in the cupboard– he really likes those– and if there’s an emergency you can just call– oh and also I’ll make lunch and dinner downstairs too, so don’t forget,” Pigsy listed off.

“Wow, you’re really treating us,” Tang smiled smugly.

“Consider it wages for babysitting or whatever,” Pigsy pushed him jokingly, before looking at MK who was looking at him with big puppy dog eyes.

With a sigh, Pigsy hugged both Tang and MK, giving the former a kiss on the cheek, and MK a ruffling of his hair.

“I’ll see you soon, alright?” He looked at MK. MK looked up at Tang, then at Pigsy, then at Tang again before nodding.

“Alright. See you soon,” Pigsy patted the kids back before he really had to go, and so scrambled down the stairs.

And then it was just the two of them.

Tang’s first move was setting the kid down– since his pathetic nerdy noodle arms were not meant for carrying a (maybe???) two-year-old for long lengths. When he did the kid looked up at him vacantly, making Tang wonder if there was even a thought behind those eyes.

“So…” Tang looked around the apartment, bouncing on his heels and snapping while he tried to think of something to do. The kid certainly wasn’t any help, as he just continued to stare.

“Guess we should get you dressed then, no?” Tang decided, going into their bedroom and finding the two outfits Pigsy mentioned. MK was the one clearly calling the shots there though, selecting the blue shirt and overalls with a monkey on the pocket. Tang was glad it didn’t turn into a whole thing like he knew kids could do. Though there was a bit where it seemed like MK was going to bite his hand off when Tang tried to take his bandana, so he steered very clear of that.

After that though another big question mark hung in the air. Objectively, Tang knew he had to study, but also it didn’t seem like there was much to do with the kid in the meantime.

“Well… um… soooo… do you… like..?” Tang looked around for something– anything a kid would like, but their TV was basically useless, the books were a billion years more advanced than MK could possibly hope to understand, the boxes were too small, and they didn’t have toys– not by a long shot.

MK did seem to have a thought though, as he walked out of the bedroom and towards a countertop where a stack of legal papers were and–

Oh! Pigsy had a box of crayons.

“You want to color?” Tang asked. MK nodded and reached up enthusiastically. Tang grabbed a solid stack of the legal documents, grabbed the crayons and set them on the coffee table so the kid could actually draw on a hard surface.

To his surprise, the kid got to work straight away, and while Tang had literally no point of comparison, he seemed to be pretty good for a kid his age– whatever that was.

Tang left briefly to grab his laptop and books he needed, and when he returned the kid ran up and showed him his work. From what Tang could tell it looked like some trees, though they could’ve been giraffes, the sun in the corner, and right in the middle was a big brown swirl and a waterfall? Unless that was supposed to be the sky, and that swirl was a snake?

“Nice, MK,” Tang would’ve given a thumbs up but his arms were full. He carried his things past the toddler, who kept trying to show him the art.

“Yes, yes, MK it’s very nice, I love the trees– er– sky? –er– the sun especially,” Tang wasn’t sure what the right answer was, especially as MK had a little frown with each attempt, though seemed satisfied at the “sun” compliment and went back to his crayons.

…Tang didn’t understand kids.

But it was fine, this was fine. He had… time. Forced time, but this was just day one– he was crazy– was he seriously thinking a toddler was judging him??? Maybe Tang ought to see a therapist.

Tang took a deep breath to force himself to relax before he cracked open his book and laptop and started “studying” for his economics final.

Pigsy had always believed in Tang and his ability to be smart and know things, but really, Tang was a fraud who was just trying to delay the inevitable that when he finally got his PHD he wouldn’t find a job and would remain a financial burden to Pigsy– and now MK– till the end of his days, and he’d just be a burden like his parents always believed.

With a grumble, he started reading.

“The price, or market, system is the predominant allocation mechanism in most industrial societies today because–”

A piece of paper was slapped atop Tang’s book, making him jump.

“You– um– draw fast, don’t you MK?” Tang immediately set the paper aside, but MK huffed and put it back over his book.

“Look, how’s about you draw five drawings while I study and then you can show me then, hm?” Tang proposed, but the boy just stared vacantly.

“Right. You don’t know numbers,” Tang rubbed his forehead, before looking at the drawing.

This one was slightly more decipherable than the previous, as there was a bunch of pink scribbles roughly in the shape of Pigsy, and— what appeared to be a monkey on his shoulders? It was hard to tell, since it was red and also very crude. There was also another figure, bright yellow but it was hard to tell if that was supposed to be a sunbeam or tree or heck– even Tang. Again there was a waterfall (?) and some maybe-rocks maybe-hedgehogs???

“Is this supposed to be Pigsy?” Tang asked, pointing to the pink scribes. MK nodded.

“Aw, that’s sweet; I’m sure he’ll love it,” Tang smiled and set it down, though that made MK upset, as he picked it up and put it over his book again.

Tang groaned. “Kid, you’re really cute and all, but I need to study otherwise I will be failing everyone I know. Please just– go back to drawing?” Tang pleaded but the kid didn’t budge.

“Look– I–” Tang rolled his head back. “I don’t know what this drawing’s of. I’m sorry.”

MK took his paper back before going to the table and drawing more.

Tang sighed a breath of relief before going back to his textbook.

“–it is generally the most efficient. Yet not all exchanges take place in a market system. Many medical services–”

Tang was going to gouge his eyes out if he had to read any more of that money mumbo jumbo and so put it back in his back and swapped it out for his Taosim and Buddhism: Face to Face textbook and tried reading that for all of five seconds, before MK slapped the paper down.

The only thing that changed really was that the yellow figure was very clearly not Tang anymore and seemed to have some kind of flowers around him? Her? Them? and also adding a mountain in the background. The creature on Pigsy’s shoulder also had added detail– most importantly what looked like a bandana.

“And is that supposed to be you?” Tang pointed to the red– um… monkey? Spider? Cat?

MK nodded and smiled, jumping on the couch and pointing to the mountains and the yellow figure.

“Yes, yes, you’ve certainly improved your background work here,” Tang remarked. “But who is this person? Is that your mother or father?”

MK shook his head.

Somehow the figure not being one of his parents made it stranger– especially because MK deemed them so important he added more detail.

“Well they’re very lovely either way,” Tang patted his head and MK gave him a big toothy grin– which surprised the scholar.

“Yes, yes– well then, I’ll give this back to you so you can give it to Pigsy at lunch–” He said, handing him back the drawing– “and then I will get back to studying.”

MK was about to get off the couch when he suddenly gasped and pointed urgently to a picture in his textbook.

Tang stared at it and blinked. “That’s the Queen Mother of the West– she’s the wife to the jade emperor.”

At that MK nodded and started trying to turn pages in the book, which Tang tried to stop, but soon realized all that would do was rip the 5541.52 yuan book and so let him have his way. The kid flipped through page after page, until another picture showed up and he pointed to it eagerly.

“Oh, that’s the Bodhisattva Guanyin– she’s a figure of mercy and forgiveness and second beginnings,” Tang explained. Again MK flipped until another photo showed up and Tang realized he was curious about who all the people were.

“That’s Prince Nezha– he killed a dragon when he was young, and because of that his own father disowned him and he died–” Tang told and MK gasped.

“I-it’s okay though! He came back and got his revenge, though remains permanently twelve– I think,” Tang tried to recall before MK flipped pages again, and this time tapped it repeatedly to show his overwhelming excitement.

“Ahhh, I see you’ve taken an interest in Sun Wukong, the Monkey King, hm?” Tang chuckled and MK nodded excitedly.

“I see you have good taste, because he’s probably the most interesting figure in this whole book,” Tang joked. “He’s from a story called Journey to the West where he helps guide a monk to deliver scriptures to the Buddha and goes through personal trials until he reaches enlightenment– though not before causing some serious havoc in heaven.”

MK laughed– he laughed– and Tang felt his heart melt a little before MK started trying to get his head under his arm. Tang was confused, until he realized he wanted to sit in his lap to see the pictures better, and so Tang let him.

“See this one?” Tang pointed to a picture on the top left. “That depicts when he fought off the entire heavenly army after he was kicked out for stealing their wine, pills, and peaches.”

“And this one here–” he pointed below– “that’s when he got trapped under the Mountain of Phases after Buddha successfully tricked him.”

MK tilted his head curiously, tracing it with his finger before looking back up at Tang.

“Yes, yes, a little harsh, but he goes through worse punishments later, as before he was ready to go on the journey with the monk Tang Sanzang, he was given a circlet that would hurt him if he disobeyed,” Tang expanded, turning the page to reveal such an image, which made MK gasp and whimper.

“Yeah, it looks like it hurts a lot, doesn't it?” Tang said, examining the picture closer. It was weird– he hadn’t ever thought about the thing that closely before, but looking back, it was pretty torturous.

“It’s okay though– Monkey King always got back on his feet and got enlightenment like he always wanted, isn’t that nice?” Tang asked, and MK slowly nodded, though his lower lip trembled a bit.

“Aww, it’s okay MK,” Tang patted his shoulder, which MK took as an invitation to hug the scholar, which while it surprised him, he wasn’t against it.

“Here– how’s about I teach you about some of the happier parts of Sun Wukong’s life, hm? Like when he fought the permanent twelve-year-old Prince Nezha? Or when he had a cool shapeshifter duel with Er Lang Shen and his dog? Or– oh! What about when he fought off the Monstrous King of Havoc and freed all of the other monkeys on Flower Fruit Mountain from being eaten or enslaved?” Tang proposed, which instantly put MK in better spirits.

And so Tang started telling him tales, and MK slowly got off and started drawing the scenes Tang described, which was pretty impressive since sometimes Tang could actually see what was going on, which was nice. Plus, it was fun to see him so engaged in his stories.

It was… strange, watching this boy who had been nothing but a confusing vessel become so passionate and alive and giggly as Tang talked. Sometimes Tang actually thought he’d respond with words, but his laughs and nods were good enough for him.

Tang talked and MK colored for hours and hours and hours on end, until the landline rang to life, and Tang left MK to draw Er Lang Shen and his dog while he answered.

“Zhu residence, this is Tang.”

“TANG! Have you looked at the time??? The kid’s s’posed to be havin’ lunch by now!” Pigsy scolded on the other side.

“Oh wow– has it really been that long?” Tang laughed, seeing the clock said 12:15.

“Uh– yeah! Geez– does the kid’s schedule not even matter to you?” Pigsy griped.

“O-of course! It’s just– we were getting so caught up in drawing and The Monkey King– it really is something–”

“I thought you were supposed to be studying,” Pigsy pointed out.

“Yeaaahhh, well a little break never hurt anyone,” Tang totally glossed over the fact he never really started in the first place. There was a bit of pause before Pigsy spoke again.

“So uh– you and the kid been bonding?” Pigsy asked, his tone far less harsh now.

“I– um–” Tang looked over his shoulder at MK, who gave him a big flashy grin. “We have.”

“That’s– That’s really good, Tang, I’m glad,” His partner praised. “I thought’d take the kid weeks to warm up to you based on how he is with other strangers– this is good though.”

“And you left me up here with him alone anyways?” Tang pointed out jovially.

“I am literally just two stories down, Tang.”

“Yeah, yeah– let me do the teasing sometimes.”

Pigsy laughed on the other side. “Alright, alright– just get you and MK down here or else I’ll still charge you for your lo mein,”

“Alright, alright, I’ll get him there,” Tang rolled his eyes. “Love you, Piggy.”

“Love you too, Tangy. But seriously– get your ass down here.”

“I will. Bye.”

“Bye.”

And with that, Pigsy hung up.

“Alright MK, are you ready to see Pigsy again?” Tang hung up the phone too.

“Dadsy!” MK cheered, drawing in hand that he quickly showed Tang.

“Woah– Dad-sy?” Tang fawned over that so much did didn’t notice MK holding out the picture for him to take.

“Mhm!” MK nodded, shoving the picture in Tang’s face since he clearly wasn’t looking down enough.

The drawing wasn’t the one from earlier– no, this one was probably the clearest of any. On the right was clearly Pigsy, looking much better than his scribbled counterpart, and also very clearly holding MK, who was drawn with proper yellow and brown, with red saved for the bandana. And to the left was–

Him.

He could tell too, because the stick figure was wearing his robe and had huge messy circles around the eyes to be glasses, plus he was wearing a biiiiiiiiig old scarf. He was smiling, Pigsy was smiling, and MK was smiling too. There was also a rainbow, and a bowl of what Tang hoped were noodles and not worms, as well as MK written in the corner in big shaky letters.

“Oh MK– is this us?” Tang took it from his hands and felt himself start to tear up a little.

MK nodded excitedly.

“Dadsy an’ Tang!” He bounced on heels and flapped his hands.

Okay now Tang was definitely crying, and he quickly knelt and gave MK a hug.

“You know, I don’t meet a lot of kids, but you’re easily the coolest one out there, MK,” Tang complimented, giving him a good squeeze.

MK laughed and hugged him too.

“Now c’mon– I bet you’re starving, and I know I could certainly go for some noodles right about now,” Tang booped his nose before standing, at which MK did grabby hands upward. Tang chuckled and handed him back his drawing before picking him up.

“Alright, let’s go give your Dadsy a visit,” Tang was loving the nickname already and was more than certain Pigsy would just about die of cuteness when he heard it too– especially with how happy it made MK to hear it repeated back.

It was strange how much Tang felt he’d changed in a day, but hey, maybe that was just how parenting was–

God– it felt weird, to say it, but Tang was a parent now– Pigsy too. Of course, Tang still had a PhD to obtain, and Pigsy a restaurant to run, but together they were a team and with MK, they might even be a family.

Wow that was a lot to think.

But still, it brought as much of a smile to his face as it did anxiety, and if that wasn’t parenting, Tang didn’t know what was.

#lego monkie kid #lmk #freenoodles #tang lmk #pigsy lmk #mk lmk #domestic freenoodles #fluff #dadsy #dad tang #MK is an absolute precious baby #I legit think the only reason we didn't see tang at first was bc homeboy was gone #and because of that he missed the deadline to be considered a dad sorry bro #you're demoted to father figure but not father #fjdaskl;fjdsa #i'm rambling now #just read it

64 notes · View notes

fanfic-corner · 1 year

Text

Destiel Whump Fics

Hiya everyone! As you probably already guessed, I love a bit of hurt/comfort, so these whump fics are perfect! I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I did :D

Please make sure you check the warnings for these fics before reading, as some of them deal with heavy topics or might have content you're uncomfortable with reading! Stay safe out there <3

You are my home by Desirae (4.7k)

Things have settled down since rescuing Sam. Mary is bonding with her sons, and Castiel is nearly back to full capacity, just needing a little sleep here and there. When Dean discovers Cas' unusual resting spot, what starts as a series confessions leads to the emotional healing they both needed.

The Big Freeze by strangeandcharm (8.5k)

Dean and Castiel get locked in a freezer. H/C ensues. Because there is no such thing as too much hypothermia!fic.

for which no words exist by MediaWhore (14k)

"Dear Cas who art in my bathtub, give me the strength to be honest about how I feel. For your sake and for mine. Forgive me all the times I wasn’t in the past, all the words I should have said but didn’t. And please stay. Please stay with me when all is said and done. Amen. "

Dean rescues a newly human Cas from the Empty. That's the easy step.

Heroes for Ghosts by pantheon_of_discord (42k)

After Sam and Dean are arrested, Castiel is left alone and scrambling to find them. He knows they’re locked away in a government facility, and he’s still able to hear their prayers, but no matter how he tries Castiel can’t seem to track them. He chases leads and even attempts to hunt on his own, but Mary is AWOL, Crowley refuses to help, and Castiel’s options are running out.

Weeks pass, Castiel’s hope dwindles, and through it all Dean prays, keeping them connected. His voice is comforting, frustrating, and occasionally annoying, but in his solitude Castiel comes to cherish it. But then one day, without warning, Dean stops praying, and Castiel is forced to confront some uncomfortable truths about his feelings.

Father Knows Best by DarkHeartInTheSky (81k)

When John wakes up alone in a field after spending years in Hell, he thinks he's been given a second a chance. A chance to do right by his boys for once. A chance to protect them like he should have.

So protect them he will--even from the horrific creature that's weaseled its way into their lives that calls itself an angel of the Lord.

You Can Keep Holding On by NorthernSparrow (352k)

Hiatus fic set after the S11 finale. Dean's alive, Sam's alive, they're going to get Cas from wherever he got zapped to, and everything's finally gonna be all right. Dean's on top of the world.

A little voice in the back of his head is whispering "It's never that easy," but Dean ignores it.

Thank you to all of the brilliant authors who shared these fics with us! And if there are any more whump fics that you think should be included on this list - whether they be yours or a friends - please let me know!

#destiel #supernatural #spn #dean winchester #castiel #whump #fic recs #ao3 #lina lore

116 notes · View notes

indibutterfly · 3 months

Text

The Amazing Digital Factory

This is kinda a fun au idea I guess. I just had this thought pop into my head.

The Amazing Digital Factory is a program that takes patients, who “struggle with mental health” and attempts to give them a better life in the digital realm. The Digital Factory is a place where anything a person could dream of could be a reality and works as a place to help those who need it. No one really understands why this place is called a factory, but then again no one cares. However, there is more that's going on behind the scenes of this euphoric place.

Pomni: The newest patient. She is similar to her canon self...anxious and depressed. She is the second to discover the truth about the Digital Factory and what the Ais are doing to the humans trapped there.

Caine: The therapist/Human Resource. He often likes to put on shows or events to give the humans a chance to have fun and enjoy themselves. He knew what was going on behind the scenes, but didn't really acknowledge it till he met Pomni. He cares for the humans, he just has a skewed way of showing it.

Jax: The antisocial patient. In another life, he probably would have enjoyed this place to the fullest, not really caring about what was going on inside the factory's walls. However, not in this reality. He trusts no one and only cares about one thing. He tends to be mysterious and cold not wanting to ever speak a word. That is until the truth was revealed.

Gangle: The D.I.D. patient. She usually can be found around Jax, though no one really understands way exactly. She wanted to believe that the Digital Factory would be a great experience for her, but something doesn't sit right with her. She can't quite put her finger (or ribbon) on it.

Ragatha: The O.C.D. patient. She is quick to believe anything the Ais tell her. She has a space where she is able t have control over anything and everything she wants. She does not want to believe what's going on behind the scenes and is fine just living in and with a lie.

Zooble: The Todd syndrome patient. Not much is known about this patient except for the syndrome. Some even wonder if this patient is still human at all.

Kinger: The missing patient...........

Probably should mention now that the only ship within this au is Showtime (Caine x Pomni). Not that I don't like any other ships (I am actually a multishipper).

I plan on making this kind of like a fanfic type thing. I will usually post one piece of art along with a chapter (like a cover). Hope you all enjoy my little idea.

#the amazing digital circus #tadc pomni #tadc caine #tadc jax #tadc gangle #tadc ragatha #tadc zooble #tadc kinger #tadc #tadc fanfiction #This is one of my first times really writing cut me some slack here

7 notes · View notes

yaminerua · 10 months

Text

Rimmer discovering that his real father was the gardener Dennis and managing to find a way to be proud of himself for becoming a second technician in the space corps because he figures his real father would have been proud of him for getting that far warms my heart in a kind of bittersweet way;;

He’s had his entire world turned upside down. His father, or rather the man he has always thought of and believed to be his father, is in fact not his father at all. The weight of constantly not living up to expectation, constantly disappointing, lagging behind his brothers, never being Rimmer enough in his father’s eyes takes on a new light when he learns that he is a Rimmer only in name, not by bloodline.

His real father was a gardener, and yes Rimmer referred to him as a babbling imbecile when he was first told, but clearly Dennis was good at his job, good with his hands in practical ways. Maybe he wasn’t an academic type, maybe he even had the same struggles that Rimmer himself experiences and that’s what led him to something more hands-on. But he’s good at what he does and was presumably happy to do it too.

When Rimmer is hearing the news, he’s told he no longer descends from a line of Austrian princes and French royalty but artisans, gardeners. People the Rimmers would look down on but whose individual skills are still very much a valuable and precious thing.

Lister jokes that a billion piece jigsaw finally falls into beautiful place but in a way he’s right.

Rimmer has been shown in the books to have enjoyed creative things in his youth. He was all too happy to colour in maps of the solar system with extreme care and attention to detail, and later in life he colour codes his revision timetables until they resemble minor works of art themselves. And although it’s a deleted scene there’s also a moment where we see him trying to paint miniature models with the aid of a hologram box. So even now something of that has survived as a minor hobby. It’s clear there was a burgeoning creative streak in him that was squashed by his family’s lack of appreciation for art and crafts. Something they surely viewed as nothing more than frivolous time-wasting pursuits, unlike something productive like becoming an officer. Something menial in their eyes despite the very real skills needed to create something with your own hands.

Given enough encouragement to pick up a craft and stick to it he would probably find that it comes to him a lot more easily, a lot more naturally than studious, complicated academic stuff that requires lots of reading and memorising and calculating. He’d find that he’s good with his hands, and a practical learner who retains things much more easily when he’s able to work at it physically. And he would surely enjoy expressing himself through creative endeavours a bit more if he could just give it a chance.

I understand that he still wants to have a goal to aim towards, and since he’s spent his entire life and most of his borrowed time as a hologram attempting to become an officer then of course he’s going to be reluctant to give it up. He’s spent so much time trying to become an officer, what’s the point in giving up now? I guess it’s something that would take time for him to really consider letting go of. It has defined so much of his existence for so long but so much of THAT was dictated by the expectations of a man he now knows isn’t even his real father.

When he played that message from his father it was to try to free himself from that. He even says that although he was only supposed to play it after he became an officer, by playing it beforehand it means he doesn’t care what his father thinks, that he’s free of him. But that’s easier said than done.

It would have been nice to see him leave that goal behind, to shed it along with the weight of all the other expectations that were placed on his shoulders, to cast aside the mould he was never able to make himself fit no matter how hard he tried.

But I think that with everything his life has been it’s to be expected that it would be a slow, gradual process. How do you throw away everything you thought you had to be all at once? What’s left of yourself when everything you’ve become was built around those expectations? Who will you become afterwards?

I hope he figures that out and makes peace with it someday;;

#I am having Rimmer emotions ;;;;;;;;;;#Red dwarf

20 notes · View notes

onthesandsofdreams · 2 years

Text

To Love A Dream

Fandom: The Sandman TV Pairing: Morpheus x Fem!Reader Rating: T Summary: You were not exactly ready to admit it, but you felt a bit... lonely. Because try as you may, you missed Morpheus being with you in the waking world. You two had met when your friend and fellow scholar, Hob had introduced you both Words: 1017 Notes: For my big sister @mousedetective, hope you like it! Prompt(s): 3. "That was not my intention." from @fictober-event

Read @ AO3

You were not exactly ready to admit it, but you felt a bit... lonely.

Because try as you may, you missed Morpheus being with you in the waking world. You two had met when your friend and fellow scholar, Hob had introduced you both. And, well, the spark that was there was undeniable. The first time you had stared into his eyes, you were not exaggerating when you said that you could have drown in them, and happily so.

You had written several love poems about them.

Your excuse was that you were an English teacher and poet, no one could possibly fault you for finding beauty in a very handsome man, who also happened to be well mannered and had a voice that sent shivers down your spine. And, somehow, he had found you interesting too, enough that you both had began seeing one another.

You had grown sad when you had to return Stateside, thinking that the budding relationship you both had would cool off and fade away. To your pleasant surprise, you found out that no, Morpheus was not deterred and reassured you that the distance would not be a problem, you were skeptical... until one day, Morpheus showed up to the University you taught in.

Your heart had soared at seeing him there, listening to you speak about literature and your passion for gothic. He had had the smallest of smiles, but you were proud of having made him smile.

And you two got to know each other better. You had introduced him to new poets and writers, to new music and taken him to art exhibits, theater shows and to different restaurants as you did your best to discover what he liked. At the beginning, you could have sworn that he was just indulging you, but with the passing of time, you saw him relax and openly enjoy more things. It made you happy, for he was always so serious and the fact that he got some form of fun and happiness on the things you showed him, well, it made you happy in turn.

When you two had finally shared your first kiss, you could have sworn you walked on cloud nine.

And then, one day, he sat you down and told you who and what he was. You had been completely poleaxed at the whole concept, but you hurried to reassured him when you saw his countenance shift into worry and hurt.

But it did explain why your dreams had been so lovely.

Once he was certain that you weren't going away and leave him, he introduced you to his sister. Death was the loveliest, kindest ball of sunshine in human form. You two got on quite well.

From that moment on, you also met while dreaming and, if possible, your happiness grew twice fold.

Which brought you to your current problem, your little bout of loneliness. Yes, you understood that Morpheus was a ruler of a realm that was still being rebuilt - you swore that you frothed at the mouth at the thought of him being held prisoner - and that his presence was needed, but you also missed that quiet, loving presence that was.

"Your dreams have been barren as of late, are you well?"

Morpheus' voice startled you, raising a hand to your chest in an attempt to calm your heart, you said, "Oh, Morpheus, you startled me!"

"My apologies," he said and sat down on the chair opposite yours. And the look he gave you was a searching one. "Is something troubling you?"

You hesitated, would he think less of you if you admitted what troubled you? In the end, you decided to be honest. "I have missed you. In the waking world, I mean."

Morpheus frowned and thought for a moment, "I have been busy. But, I understand. Forgive me for making you feel lonely. That was not my intention. I have been remiss."

You gave him a tiny smile, relief washing over you on the fact that he did not think less of you for admitting it. "I understand, it just took me by surprise how much I missed you in the waking world."

"I am here now," he said softly.

"You are, and that's what matters." You closed your laptop and then, you knew what to do. "Want to cuddle in the couch while watching a movie? Death told me you haven't seen Mary Poppins."

Morpheus stood, offering his hand. "If it would please you."

You took it, "It would."

And you two forgot about the world for a few hours. And that was when you finally found the courage to show him the poems that you had written the first time you two had met. Morpheus had loved them, but when you protested that they were a poor gift, he disagreed. "It is not often someone writes something for me, not of what I am."

"Really?" You asked. At his nod, you said. "Then people are fools. I know you can change how you appear to those who see you, but your eyes. They are two stars Morpheus, I am sure that people would praise them to the high heavens given the chance."

"I have never been one to require such worship," he chided you gently.

You shrugged. "Perhaps not required, but, is it not nice knowing that someone finds beauty in you?"

Morpheus was silent for a moment, "I suppose it is rather flattering. But the fact that these come from you are what matter to me."

"Thank you, that makes me happy." You told him. "But please know that what I feel for you will not change should it ever please you to change your appearance. I fell in love with you, your appearance is a bonus, so to speak."

Morpheus smiled, took your hand in his and raised it to his lips, and the kiss that he placed in it was gentle. Like the touch of a pair of butterfly wings. "And what I feel for you will not change either. I love you, beloved."

"And I you, my Dream."

#fictober22 #morpheus x reader #dream of the endless x reader #dream x reader #morpheus #dream of the endless #reader insert #the sandman fic #post canon fic #the sandman

101 notes · View notes

narrators-journal · 4 days

Text

Art is all around

So. This is probably my weakest writing. I couldn’t really think of much for a whole scenario? So I just let myself write what came to mind the same way I do Ryomina content. So, this is just a blurb of a scenario. I hope you can find something to enjoy in it regardless tho! I had zero other ideas.

To an extent, Science is an art form in and of itself, y’know? You use the tools you see around you to create and discover new things about the world. Though, of course, science has far more rules, limits, and ethics that surround that discovery and creation, but, Senku still saw the art in his beloved medium of expression.

That being said, he could admit that when it came to entertainment, science wasn’t for everyone. So, he could admit that he needed someone who knew more about the ins and outs of a more acceptable method of creativity. That, was why he stood in front of you now.

The vines and flora tangled around your petrified body to give a sense of colorful, vibrant modesty. A rather fitting way to find you. The leek-haired man thought as he stepped back from your statue, Taiju soon at his side, “Hey, don’t we know this person?” The tall brunette asked, the dvd screen saver almost visible in his brown eyes as it tried to hit the corner of the screen. Yet, Senku waved that thought off pretty easily, “Does that matter? They’re an artist, we need an artist.” “Yeah, but we’ve already got a mangaka to give us art, is this another one?” Taiju asked, quick to follow his smaller friend’s lead as the scientist began to untangle the vines and brambles from your legs. “They’re not a mangaka, but they’re an artist. We need someform of variety, taiju. If there’s only one story-teller, the stories are gonna be a bit repetitive. Like when Disney took over too much stuff and all the movies became basically the same.” He explained as he worked, but the brunette thought for a moment before he responded, “That’s a pretty bleak way to remember movies from our time…” “Taiju.” Senku huffed, his crimson eyes bored as they looked at the well-intentioned work horse. “Right. Not the point.” And, with that, the two finished digging up your statue with a deft dodge of Taiju’s attempt to blind the scientist to preserve your modesty and a splash of the revival fluid.

And, in a heartbeat, the cracks across your stoney skin began to appear. Spread across your body swiftly until, at last, the chunks of rock fell off of your newly made skin. Left behind, was the same ol’ you that Senku had known in school. “Welcome to the new stone age! Hope your art skills stuck around.” The leek chirped at you, Taiju quick to nod along with his own friendly smile. A friendly smile that, didn’t seem to do much to soothe the confusion and fear in your eyes.

Jesus, I know artists are best when they suffer, but please don’t have a breakdown.

#Dr. Stone #dcst #Senku Ishigami x reader #senku ishigami #vague x reader #Ao3 ask #scenario

5 notes · View notes

oodlyenough · 3 months

Text

with the apollo justice ports around the corner I finally made a concerted effort to finish AAI. there was a period where i thought i'd play both investigations games AND tgaa before now. lol. lmao even

fandom wasn't kidding that last case can long

miscellaneous spoilers and overall thoughts on AAI1. also it's very long

let's get some good stuff up top to start:

it was pretty funny

the pixel sprites were soooo cute, and most of the character art was nice in general

i liked seeing more of edgeworth and franziska together. this was 80% of the reason i played the game to begin with. stupid little details like the fact that she does, actually, still call him "miles" occasionally were nice to have, and i liked a lot of their bratty sibling interactions

callisto yew was the best lmao i loved her

kay's cute. i gotta disagree with the common fanon that she's literally edgeworth's daughter, on account of it's been two days and someone else has raised her to near adulthood, but being a teenager who shows up sometimes to bother him is a very funny thing for her to be, anyway

the yatagarsu actually being a toxic polycule was funny as shit lmao i love it. and kay at the end saying she wants to find 3 fellow teenage beauties to do it with her fhkldhglkhlfg yes girl end up on reddit queer housing discourse i believe in u babe

i didn't like lang all that much to begin with but once we got to the shih-na reveal i was all in, lmfaoooo. i joked "i hope he eats a poison necklace for her" and five minutes later he was taking a bullet. amazing. in all seriousness their relationship felt like much of what i enjoyed about dahlia and phoenix minus the stuff i felt was stupid. let's hear it for toxic workplace romances. edgey comes out of 3-5 like "well that was a lot" and then meets some new spiky weirdo to have homoerotic rivalry with only to discover that guy is also insane about some evil woman

cammy and ms teneiro were also great. lot of funny women in some of these cases. i like that.

this game could have attempted to sell me on some het romance for edgeworth -- it wouldn't have worked, but i wouldn't have exactly been surprised if it had tried, yknow -- but anyway instead it had miscellaneous women flirt with him while he was consistently baffled and/or oblivious and/or revolted. don't worry mr edgeworth i saw your magenta suit

i think broadly that covers the stuff I liked. which leads me to ... stuff I did not:

this game was... rough, imo. after i finished the trilogy this summer i was excited to play this, in particular because one of my few but key complaints with aa3-5 was that franziska and edgeworth just kind of disappeared and i was hoping this would give more exploration and closure to their characters.

that... did not happen. i felt like i was waiting for it to hit a point and get good for pretty much the entire game; it'd be like "well at least franziska is here soon" "well i want to meet kay" "well there's the baby franziska case" "well it's the finale surely it'll be fun!" and mostly none of that really materialized. largely i found it disappointing and anticlimactic.

i don't think i learned anything new about the existing characters -- edgeworth just kind of seemed to be reiterating lessons we already learned in the trilogy, and i felt they negated a lot of franziska's trilogy development and/or flanderized her a lot. the new characters are ok -- i LOVED yew/shih-na lmfao, and I like Kay, and I eventually came to like Lang once I saw him be unhinged about shih-na. but overall i felt the character work was weaker than I was expecting, and without the investment I have from the trilogy I doubt I'd have finished the game. the bratworth + baby franziska case was my fave of the game, because it was fun to see them together in that period of their lives, but even then I don't think how edgeworth was written makes any real sense with aa1 -- i think trilogy bratworth would take the easy conviction against gumshoe and be done with it. that was like. pretty core to the first three games.

I didn't find anything particularly emotional. I WAS interested in Callisto and her dead sister as compared to Kay and her dead father but, never mind, that was a lie. They tried to convince me KG8 was personal to everyone, but it didn't really feel like it for anyone but Kay -- who I like but met two cases ago, and whose connection to even Edgeworth is tenuous. Like they make it pretty clear Franziska is haunted by that case but ... why? Because she regards it as a semi failure I guess...? Like sure, I guess, but ... that's kind of remote. Compare to the trilogy finale stakes of defendant Edgeworth, Maya kidnapped, Phoenix falling off a bridge + Maya missing... the big threat here was that some guy we just recently met might go on to murder other people we've never met in foreign countries. Objectively yes that's bad, but it's not exactly emotionally gripping, imo.

I feel like the nature of the games and its place in the broader AA universe meant the stakes were off. edgeworth and his allies get accused of murder every five minutes in this game, but none of it ever feels real, because by "accused" they mean the police ask a few questions. in AA terms, this is nothing. there's no detention center or arrest or the threat of a 3 day trial and inexplicable death penalty. i've been saying for ages that i would love to see defendant franziska, everyone else got a turn!!, etc -- and technically this last case gave it to me except, well, she was one of about a dozen people accused over the span of the world's longest case, there's no real threat there, and frankly where's the fun in franziska being accused of murder if not for her to grudgingly accept phoenix as her representation. AAI's determination that everything happen pre-trial means that mostly none of it felt very serious; no one even gets arrested. maybe in a vacuum the threat of arrest would feel like enough, but in a series where you have Maya as Murder Charges Georg it just felt like nothing was really on the line -- what's the worst that happens, they get arrested and they hire phoenix? lol. don't threaten me with a good time!

this post is a million words long so I'll stop there. in conclusion, the worst ace attorney game I have played so far. fortunately(?) for AAI and unfortunately for me, i have not yet played dual destinies or spirit of justice, so stay tuned to see if it gets dethroned, lmfao.

i will, probably, eventually give AAI2 a try, if only to better understand everyone's fanfiction, but my hopes are pretty low.

#oodly plays AAI #ace attorney investigations

5 notes · View notes

sugareey-makes-stuff · 2 years

Photo

Welp! Today is my birthday, and I’m another year older. It’s crazy to think about how much time has flown by since I joined fandom well over a decade and a half ago and how that has shaped me as a person. But hey, I wouldn’t have it any other way. My past self wouldn’t have thought I would still be making things to this day. But inspiration and motivation needs to come from somewhere, and it’s thanks to all of you lovely fandom folks for being the reason why I still make art, and why I started writing again! If it wasn’t for fandom, I have no idea where I would be. Fandom holds a very special place in my heart because it’s a community where I can be myself and feel at home. The support I’ve received on my many crazy initiatives, and each friendship I’ve made over the years have all been truly special. As a thank you, I’m presenting a throwback rec list of 22 Drarry and rare pairs fics dating back between 2003-2017. Each and every one of these have impacted me in some way, have pulled me through some really difficult times and/or I still love to reread to this day. Maybe these are ones y’all love too, or have yet to read. I’ve added some tags where applicable just in case, since not all of these have extensive AO3 tags. Don’t forget to give these authors some love by leaving kudos and/or comments! [If you do want to see more detailed rec posts for these fics, send the word by commenting or sending a request in my inbox!] Without further ado, here ya go and enjoy!

Drarry

🧁 >>> Waters of March by geoviki (T, 21.6k, 2003)- Canon-Divergence, AU, Post-War, Order of the Phoenix, St. Mungo’s, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, brief mentions of Torture/Violence, London, Coffee Shops, Banter, Getting Together, Alternating PoVs

Summary: Voldemort's final victim resides with the other spell-damaged wizards in St. Mungo's Hospital. Harry suffers survivor's guilt and finds an unusual beta.

🧁 >>> Tip of the Icing by megyal | @megyalwrites (M, 32.6k, 2007)- EWE, Post-war, Pre-DH, Fluff, Light Angst, Happy Ending, Magical AU, various OCs, Baking, Kid!fic, Past Relationships, Mentions of Past Affairs, Jealousy, Banter

Summary: Harry's successful cake/pastry career brings an old nemesis as a new client.

🧁 >>> Small Blessings by oldenuf2nb (M, 37k, 2009)- EWE, Post-war, Adopted Children, Found Family, Dad!Harry, Model!Draco, Pureblood Culture, Expectations, Attempted Kidnapping, Getting Together, Snogging, Humping, Falling in Love, Parenting, various OCs, Alternating PoVs

Summary: After the war, Harry opens an orphanage with the help of a surprising friend. When he adopts an infant left on his doorstep, he has no idea what fate has in store for him.

🧁 >>> Taste of Magic by Romaine | @romaine2424 (M, 10.1k, originally written in 2009)- Auror!Harry, Unspeakable!Draco, Banter, Goblet of Fire, Magic Vanishing, brief mentions of deaths, Drinking, Sex, Muggle World, Bittersweet, Light Angst, Hopeful Ending

Summary: As the world's atmosphere changes, magic starts to disappear. Only a "lucky" few will stay in the magical world until the earth begins to heal.

🧁 >>> Symbiosis by fireflavored (E, 20.2k, 2009)- Post-war, 8th Year, Quidditch, Humour, UST, Flirting, Arrangements, Bullying, Prejudices, Wanking, BJs, Rimming, Sex, Christmas, Getting Together, Happy Ending

Summary: sym·bi·o·sis (sĩm'bē-ō'sĩs) n. Biology A close, prolonged association between two or more different organisms of different species that may, but does not necessarily, benefit each member.

🧁 >>> The Charm Conundrum by dysonrules (M, 8.3k, originally written in 2010)- 8th Year, Awkward Flirting, Humour, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Courting, Misunderstandings, Crushes, Idiots in Love, Jealousy, Banter, Teasing, Sneaking Around at Night, Sex, Happy Ending

Summary: Harry misplaces an interesting "self-help" manual. Draco finds it and discovers some fascinating insights into Harry Potter.

🧁 >>> Sæglópur by femmequixotic | @femmequixotic (M, 34.3k, 2011)- EWE, First Person PoV, Break-up, Affairs, Fuckbuddies, UST, Idiots in Love, Banter, Holiday, Travel, Old Magic, Iceland, Lack of Communication, Feelings, Banter, Public Sex, Jealousy, Meddling Friends, Angst with a Happy Ending, Getting Back Together

Summary: After a difficult breakup, Draco finds himself dragged to the land of magic, law, and natural wonders where, of course, nothing goes as planned.

🧁 >>> Draco Malfoy, It's Your Lucky Day by faithwood (E ,37.4k, 2012)- 8th Year, Mystery, Enemies to Lovers, Injuries, Felix Felicis, Temporary Memory Loss, Cuddling, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Handjobs, Rimming, Feelings, Curses, Misunderstandings, Deception, Memory Potions, Happy Ending

Summary: Even though he's unarmed, injured, lost in the Forbidden Forest, and facing a possible murder charge, Draco Malfoy gets lucky.

🧁 >>> Phoenix Rising by tuesdaymidnight (M, 25.6k, 2013)- Post-war, EWE, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Permanent Injury, Music, Trauma, Prophecy, Divination, Muggle world, Holidays, Friendships with Gryffindors, past break-up, Feelings, Idiots in Love, Getting Back Together, Song!Fic

Summary: Twelve years after the war, Draco is a successful organ tuner living in London, but he is still burdened by the effects of the war. Dark magic left him with a crippled body and, he sometimes worries, an empty heart. By chance he spots Harry in Muggle London, and the old feelings he once had for him rush back. When mutual friends express concern about Harry, it prompts Draco to seek him out. Draco is surprised but intrigued by Harry's interest in prophecy and seers, and he finds himself falling for Harry all over again. The only problem is figuring out if Harry could possibly return his feelings.

🧁 >>> Falling Stars, Catching Lightning by daftfear | @13pawns (E, 6.6k, 2015)- Post-war, Magical Tattoos, Symbolism, Flirting, Lust, Banter, UST, Sex

Summary: Draco’s talent and skill as a tattoo artist are without equal, but when Potter comes in asking for a custom piece that’ll take several sessions to complete, Draco finds his abilities and professionalism tested.

🧁 >>> Solder by Oakstone730 (E, 34.5k, 2015)- more tags on AO3

Summary: Seven years ago, Harry disappeared out of Draco and Scorpius's life without a trace after Harry's addictions destroyed his and Draco's marriage. Now, Harry’s back, and Draco wants to believe he’s changed. But Harry isn’t the only one haunted by the past.

🧁 >>> (The Piece) I was Missing All Along by lauren3210 (E, 34.5k, 2015)- Post-war, Flashbacks, Best Friends, Feelings, Idiots in Love, Pining, Heartbreak, Sex, UST, Infidelity against an OC, Engagement, Wedding, Confessions, Meddling Friends, Jealousy, Denial, Confrontations, Angst with a Happy Ending

Summary: Draco and Harry have been flatmates and best friends for years, and Draco thinks life is just perfect that way. But when something comes along and threatens to take all that away, Draco has to decide what it is he really wants, and just how hard he's going to work to get it.

Rare Pairs

🎂 >>> WAGs to Riches by nqdonne (Perciver, E, 8.8k, originally written in 2007)- Non-Magical AU, Reunions, Rugby, Offices, Wooing, Flirting, Getting Together, First Dates, BJs, Sex, Crushes, Fantasies, Humour, Puns

Summary: How the boy Percy had idly daydreamed about in school had ended up one of the country's top rugby players was something Percy left up to bad karma.

🎂 >>> What Pride Doesn’t Know by igrockspock (Perciver, G, 3.7k, 2012)- Getting Together, Coming Out, Canon-Compliant, Misunderstandings, Anxiety, Family, Apologies

Summary: How Percy Weasley came to dance with Oliver Wood at Ginny's wedding is a long story, and he may have forgotten to tell his family a few parts of it -- like how he's gay, and in a relationship with a man.

🎂 >>> A Root So Deep by wook77 (Deamus, E, 13.8k, 2012)- DH Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Roommates, mentions of other relationships/hook-ups, Separation, Travelling, Pining , Snogging, BJs, Sex, Miscommunication, Apologies, Getting Together, Falling in Love

Summary: There is an Irish proverb that states, "when the root is deep, there is no need to fear the wind". Seamus is about to learn how deep the root of his friendship with Dean truly is.

🎂 >>> Willing to Be Proved Wrong (Or, How Percy Weasley Fought the Magic of Christmas and Lost) by Eleos (Perciver, M, 5k, 2014)- HBP, Christimas Eve, Leaky Cauldron, Snogging, Reunions, Awkward Flirting, Conversations, Hook-up, Hopeful Ending

Summary: Percy Weasley didn’t believe in fate. He didn't believe in luck, destiny, or serendipity, and he certainly didn't believe in the magic of Christmas. A surprise encounter with Oliver Wood may just change his mind.

🎂 >>> you had time by mixtapestar | @mixtapestar (Perciver, E, 13.2k, 2015)- Post-war, Future-Fic, Reunions, Flashbacks, Friends to Lovers, Roommates, Friendship, Getting Together, Crushes, Misunderstandings, Light Angst, Snogging, Handjobs, Happy Ending

Summary: Oliver isn’t quite sure what convinces him to go back to the Hog’s Head on the 4th anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts. He had never gone to any of the official celebrations that happened over the past few years, but he knows that Aberforth isn’t one for ceremony. Here he can have a quiet drink to commemorate lives lost and to celebrate what was won without anyone making a big show of things. What he isn’t expecting is to run into Percy Weasley at the pub.

🎂 >>> Grazed Knees by montparnasse | @montpahrnah (Linny, T, 5.5k, 2015)- EWE, Post-war, Hogwarts, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Snogging, Anxiety, Nightmares, Reassurances, Growing Up, Hopeful Ending

Summary: The war is over, except that it isn't, and Ginny is done fighting, except that she's not.

🎂 >>> A Little Like This by bansheee (Deamus, M, 5.5k, 2016)- more tags on AO3

Summary: “I wish there was a way to practice first,” Dean commented. “Y’know, before the real thing.” “We could,” Seamus said. “We could practice together.” Dean balked, and Seamus held up his hands. “No, no, hear me out,” Seamus’ cheeks flooded with red and Dean felt like his were just as hot. “Ya don’t want a girl to think you’re a shit snog, because she’ll go tell all the other girls, and then you’ll never get another one.” “But I’m not—” Dean lowered his voice. “You’re my best mate. My best guy mate. I’m not gay.”

🎂 >>> keeping count (losing count) by oliverwvvd | @oliverwvvd (Flintwood, T, 1.2k, 2017)- Kissing, Getting Together, Anxiety, Post-War, Confessions, Falling in Love

Summary: Marcus uses numbers to manage anxiety. He keeps count of their kisses. One day, he slips, and he says the number out loud.

🎂 >>> tied and true by slyther_ing | @mxrcusflint (Flintwood, M, 14.9k, 2017)- AU, Soulmates, Soulbond, Red String of Fate, Pureblood Culture, Expectations, Hogwarts, Enemies to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Feelings, Anxiety, Fear, Quidditch, Hogwarts, Lack of Communication, Misunderstandings, Confessions, Hopeful Ending

Summary: There are two routes of action. Three, if he were really desperate, but Marcus doesn’t think anyone in history has ever successfully dissolved a soulmate thread before without dire consequences and he’s not willing to die over Oliver fucking Wood.

🎂 >>> Terms and Conditions by maraudersaffair | @maraudersaffair (Luna/Pansy/Ginny, E, 7.7k, 2017)- more tags on AO3

Summary: Pansy can't get over super fit Ginny Weasley. Too bad Weasley is now with Loony sodding Lovegood.

#drarry #drarry squad #deamus #perciver #flintwood #linny #luna/pansy/ginny #hp rare pair #hp multi-ship #multiship #hp fanfic #fic recs #rec lists #spicy #happy birthday #sugareey #sugareey recs things

77 notes · View notes

intheorangebedroom · 4 months

Note

Maybe it's the season but I've been in my feels lately and nothing can scratch it like re-reading your beautiful "Pleased to Meet You" fic work of art.

Which got me thinking - as I know you touched on it in a previous drabble - but I'd love to know how Benny & Frankie's friendship reconciled after it all went down? Is Frankie allowed to mention Gabrielle, did Benny move on? How did he feel once he learnt the truth of the orange bedroom? Was he bitter, or did he understand?

Sorry I know that's a lot to ask but no pressure, I don't expect an answer to any of it! I guess it's my way of saying how much I admire your writing and how you weaved such a rich soulmate-esque fic that it still leaves me wanting more of this universe. Thanks for writing, it's been a highlight of my 2023 to discover it.

Happy New Year for you too! 🎉

Dearest Nonnie 🧡

A VERY HAPPY NEW YEAR TO YOU, LOVE 🧡 May you bask and thrive in the safe and soft hues of an orange bedroom of your own 🧡

Your ask is the last I received in 2023, it brought tears of joy to my eyes. I am so thankful to you, so grateful you took the time to reach out and send me those kind words and so fucking happy I gave you something that you enjoy and that brings you comfort. That's all I wish to do, that's the best feeling. And I'm sorry it's taken me so long to answer you.

It's not a lot to ask 🧡 I sincerely hope you’re happy with this (lengthy, ugh in 2024 I’m still incapable of brevity, will I ever be? Spoiler alert: probably not) answer 🧡

Prior to Benny's impromptu visit to the Morales-Tourneur household in January, Will had been doing his best to explain the situation to his brother. That Frankie and Gabrielle had met a long a time ago, and had already been in love for a long time when he entered the picture. He did it more in an attempt to mend his brother's broken heart than to excuse Frankie. Benny was never bitter, but he was hurt. Badly so. So all of Will's explaining didn't help much.

What did help was their conversation outside his house on that cold January morning. Even if Frankie provided him with what's probably the world's worst apology ever, Benny still needed to hear him say he was sorry for the way things went down. Benny's a pretty literal guy. He needed Frankie's words: "you were my best friend. You still are."

After that, Frankie took it slow and kept a low profile, following Benny's lead, letting him set the pace to his reinstatement into the group. He began by showing up to support him on fight nights, first in the audience, and he waited patiently (several months) until Benny told him he could join him and Will in the locker room. The next step was their Friday nights.

And in September that year, when Frankie texted Ben for his birthday and received his immediate reply of 🔥🍻🙌🏻 he felt this terrible weight lifted off his (broad) shoulders, replaced by the elated certitude that he'd kept his promise. He'd fixed it. Fixed everything.

Now he does not mention Gabrielle. Ever. Out of respect and decency. Benny's moved on. With several other ladies, first, until he met one he fell hard for and who fell right back for him. But Frankie knows Gabrielle was Ben’s first love. And he recognises the sheepish look in his eyes, the lingering, stolen glances in her direction whenever their shared social circle brings the three of them together in the same place, for parties, birthdays, BBQs… And despite Frankie's restored fondness for his friend, there will always be an abiding ember of jealousy, no matter how sternly he tries to reason with himself that, if it wasn’t for Ben, he would have never found her again.

Gabrielle’s the blind spot in their friendship. But one that, with time, patience, and open minds, they’ve been able to overcome. Our guys went through hell together. They’re smart, good men. Their friendship eventually prevailed 🧡

#LOOK AT THEM #thank you so much Nonnie for this ask #I hope it answers your question #if not let me know!#frankie morales #benny miller #FishBen #pleased to meet you ask #triple frontier fic #the pilot™️#ptmy

5 notes · View notes

okimargarvez · 1 year

Text

MERRY GRINCHMAS

Original title: Merry Grinchmas.

Prompt: Penelope discovers her boyfriend is the Grinch.

Warning: none.

Genre: funny, romantic.

Characters: Penelope Garcia, Luke Alvez.

Pairing: Garvez.

Note: oneshot, part 97 of 365 pills of Garvez canon life.

Legend: 💑. Song mentioned: none.

GARVEZ STORIES

MERRY GRINCHMAS

Penelope and Luke are in a mall. On the way they almost got into an accident due to a heated argument. He made the mistake of criticizing the Christmas lights they saw by the way, as well as all the theme songs played on the radio. She wanted to believe it was just a moment, but she soon had to change her mind, when the man didn't hesitate to criticize the line of children queuing to sit on Santa's lap. Now they are exactly in front of a Christmas tree much taller than her, but also than him. This is actually why they came here, when Penelope discovered that in their house there wasn't even a fir tree by the bedside table, an unforgivable thing for her, known for being the right person to ask about Christmas or other festive decorations. -How can you not like these things?- she asks him, admiring a bulletin board with really cute mini trees and so accurate in detail.

Luke mentally counts to twenty before opening his mouth and answering her, but that doesn't lessen the acidity of his tone. -They're just commercial tricks.- not even for her can he make such an effort. -Even Santa Claus is an invention of Coke.- he dismisses the issue with a shrug, declaring his disinterest in continuing this discussion. Neither of them always willing to change their minds.

Penelope almost covers her ears with hands, and she notices that fortunately there are no children around her. -What are you saying!- she barely holds back her scream rising in her throat. -This isn't the first Christmas we spend together, how could you keep your true nature hidden for so long?- she asks him then, scrutinizing him as if she were seeing him for the first time or she couldn't recognize him.

Man also has the solution to this dilemma. -Simple.- he replies, deliberately pausing to make her nervous. -Last year we had a case, do you remember that man who choked people with flashing lights?- he's enjoying making her rethink such an improper use of her beloved decorations. -We were away so long that I didn't have the strength to express my dissent. And you spent Christmas at Morgan's place.- he reminds her, not very happy with this last part.

However, she follows another direction. -You hate Christmas!- she accuses him, and he doesn't deny it. -You're the Grinch!-Luke smiles at the comparison, because, in fact, this is one of his favorite movies and also one of his favorite characters.

But he still wants to clarify. -I don't hate Christmas, I don't like how it has been transformed by consumerism.- he begins to explain. -There is almost nothing left of the true spirit of Christmas.- here comes the Catholic influence. -You know what that means, don't you? It is the memory of the birthday, of the birth of Jesus.- as expected. -Nowadays people only think about how to spend their money as possible to give totally impersonal and often useless gifts...-he just can't mitigate the disgust he feels, he doesn't even make an attempt. Penelope doesn't entirely disagree with what he said.

But she has to defend her position to the hilt. -It's not always like this!- she protests. -I put a lot of effort into choosing the gifts, I also think about it the months before, and I don't buy them all...- he nods, agreeing without problems.

He looks at her intensely. -But you are the exception among the crowd.- he strokes her cheek.

She closes her eyes enjoying his touch, then snaps out of the trance. -And what do you have against Christmas lights?- she moves on to the next point, as they walk precisely in that department of the shop. -Don't you think they're an art form?- she doesn't know where that last sentence came from either.

However Luke takes it seriously. -Well, maybe they could even be, the fact is that I see around a lot of lights on and people off, as Bukowski said.- damn, he improved his score again. Penelope racks her brain in search of the trump card.

Then she hears a not very innovative piece of music playing on the loudspeakers. -And the songs?- she gives herself a high-five. -Aren't those good either?- she challenges him with a look, and he naturally accepts.

-They are all the same, to say the least.- she opens her eyes wide and closes her mouth to reply, but he anticipates her. -And half are created for advertising purposes.- also in this case his arguments are more than reasonable. She's certainly not going to tell him.

She picks up a bauble decorated with a snowman and pretends to concentrate on it as she speaks. -Well, it's absurd that I have to say it, but the world can't go on with love alone!- silence from him. -Is there anything about Christmas that you like?- she asks then, tired, exhausted. -Do you think you can tolerate a tree?- she awaits hopefully.

-Let's say that, compared to all the rest… yes.- he gives her at least that joy, but it doesn't last long. -Even if its origins are uncertain, most likely pagan.- he explains.

-I know, I have a book that talks about all the legends about Christmas!- she gets excited right away.

Luke chuckles. -I should have known that.- and he shakes his head.

-Anyway, the choice of the tree is also important.- she begins, and he knows it's over. -It is a fir tree because, being evergreen, it was considered by the druids a symbol of the rebirth of life. And with the same sense it is inserted within the Christian narrative.- this time she sank him, she thinks. -Because it is added to the tree of Eden, which is both a symbol of humanity's fall into sin, and of its forgiveness.- she winks.

-Wow, you're really a freak of this party, aren't you?- it's not a question.

She replies anyway. -You don't know how much.- she keeps talking serious. -And in any case Santa Claus also has non-consumerist origins, and I'm sure you know it, but you like to be the contrarian and spoil my holidays.- she pushes him affectionately.

He places her hand on her hip. -Just a little.- his fingers moving slowly.

-I was sure of it!- she exclaims. -Well, Luke Alvez, known as the Grinch, I bet that by December 25th I will be able to get you on my side, to convert you.- she says in a confident tone. -I have almost a month of time.- she recalls, to reassure herself even more.

-And what's up for grabs?- he whispers deep into her ear.

She swallows. -Nothing, this time, although I'm sure you'll give in.- she reiterates.

He caresses the skin of her neck with warm breath. -But, if you're so confident…- he continues.

Penelope gives in and tells him. -If I lose, next year I won't do anything related to commercial Christmas in your presence.- she gives him time to imagine the sacrifice.

And he savors it. -What if I lose?- he doesn't seem too concerned about her response.

-You will wear Santa costume that I already bought for you.- she winks.

-Well, it could have been worse.- he says. -But I offer you an alternative. You show me what's beautiful in your vision of Christmas and I do the same with mine.- he suggests. -Deal.-

Note: I have to admit, I'm the Grinch (actually daughter of Grinch, because that's my dad) while my husband is the one obsessed with Christmas, but we also both catholic, so we are a mix of Pen and Luke in this story.

#garvez #criminal minds #cm #penelope garcia #luke x penelope #penelope x luke #garcia x alvez #alvez x garcia #penelope garcia x luke alvez #luke alvez x penelope garcia

8 notes · View notes