#lemme put this on ao3 for the heck of it too

[nine-of-diamonds]

A List of References in Keep Your Enemies Close (Wait, Not That Close)

Since it’s somehow been a year since I posted KYEC (to the warmest reception I’ve ever gotten from a fic!! Seriously y’all are the best—I can’t believe I’m still getting comments a year after publication), I compiled a complete (as far as I can remember, at least) list of all of the references (with a few explanations about my writing choices) within the fic for funsies (and also bc I put Way Too Much effort into melding all of these elements together and wanted a full list of all the things I put together that were not intended to be put together lmao)

Oh, and if it wasn’t obvious… spoilers for the fic lol — if you haven't read it but are interested in what the heck I'm talking about, it's here on ao3!

(I’m just calling every segment separated by a line break a scene even though some of them aren’t reallyyy an actual scene for the sake of clarity)

Scene 1:

One line in and I’ve already name-dropped the Watchers: not much to say about them at this point since it’s pretty much the usual “godly beings that resemble indigo biblically-accurate angels that watch people.” All I really added here was the threads of Fate mention that’ll become relevant later

Scene 3:

Grian-proof vault: this one’s a double reference! The obvious one is from Season 9 (Grian’s ep 10) where Mumbo challenges Grian to get into his vault without breaking blocks and it turns out to be a decoy vault, but the second one is from Season 6 (Grian ep 100), where Grian, Bdubs, and Iskall (as the Dragon Bros) break into Mumbo’s vault to induct him into the cult club by guessing the code to be 1-2-3-4 (the “I didn’t plan for someone to come in and start jamming codes in” and KYEC!Grian’s response, “It was the second thing I tried” are reworded from their follow-up convo about it in the next episode)

KYEC!Grian’s stolen diamonds: okay I’m pretty sure this Season 6 arc started in Grian’s ep 73, where he mentions for the first time that his diamonds have “mysteriously gone missing” — KYEC!Grian’s got the same problem, only most of his diamonds are accidentally stolen and are causing more problems than economic deficits lol → we’ll get to the completion of this arc wayyy later, but this was the very first plot point to fall into place for this fic

Detective Grian: going even farther back into Season 6, we have the Sherlock Grian arc (begins in Grian’s ep 56) — once again, we’ll get back to this one

Fun fact: the moment where KYEC!Grian’s “skin prickled with the distinct sensation that someone was watching, waiting for him to do something” was meant to be foreshadowing that would become obvious at the end bc I originally planned to have KYEC!Grian’s time traveling be onscreen — that scene was meant to show Future Grian traveling to the past to steal his diamonds, but getting the timing slightly off so he was still in the apartment when this convo takes place, and is therefore the mysterious watcher mentioned here; I didn’t end up writing out that scene, though so now it just looks like another surface level Watcher reference

Scene 4:

KYEC!Grian’s powers: the wings don’t require explanation but here’s my rationale for the “perspective-shifting” (which, lemme tell you was cool in theory but SO annoying to figure out what to call/describe) → it’s basically just being able to go into F5 mode (the range limit for him is basically that he can move what I’ll call his mental camera to any point provided that at all times, his body is visible to the mental camera from some angle, i.e. he can’t see into the next room if there are no doors/windows but he can see around corners and objects); this power’s another Watcher parallel but also a contrast to Scar’s in that it’s good for revealing “the truth” while Scar’s power is deceptive in nature

Scene 5:

Hotguy!: fun fact, I actually started writing this fic before I knew about Scar’s Hotguy persona (I was grievously behind on Season 9 when I started this fic in mid 2022) so KYEC!Scar’s original hero name was Goodfellow and he used a staff, not a bow — but obviously, I swapped it to fit the Hotguy we all know and love (and for the sake of keeping track of episode references, I’m naming Scar’s Season 9 ep 5 as the first Hotguy mention in canon, don’t @ me if I’m wrong lol)

KYEC!Scar’s powers: alright, here’s a lil secret, there’s actually smth going on with his bow that never gets brought up in this fic and that I will be keeping secret bc I may or may have smth in the works. I can, however, talk about his illusions! While KYEC!Grian’s power lets him change how he sees things, KYEC!Scar’s lets him change what other people see. The illusions are also a nod at Scar’s terraforming + building skills since he can create intricate landscapes 

Xelqua (as KYEC!Grian’s villain name): other ideas for KYEC!Grian’s villain name included Poultry Man + Watcher but I settled on Xelqua since it’s commonly associated with Watcher!Grian but feels more like a name than just plain Watcher, and then afterwards, I developed the actual Xelqua lore

Xelqua (the lore one): obviously we have the nod at our tried and tested fanon “he was only meant to watch” but the mention of him “engineer[ing] countless games… with gods and men alike” is a blink and you’ll miss it Life series reference (I suppose it could also be a reference any of Grian’s other minigames but the Life series was what I had in mind lol) → also, the whole “Ultimately, the Watchers located Xelqua after he succumbed to his nature and began stirring up trouble again” bit of lore was just me riffing off that fable about the frog and the scorpion, which traumatized me as a kid and therefore lives in my brain rent-free

Scene 6: 

Harmless pranks: rapidfire references, let’s go! “a bit of ‘misplaced copper’” = Mumbo’s copper “lagging” into Grian’s inventory (Grian Season 8 ep 13), “a few disappearing doors” = Grian being a chronic door thief (...pretty much all of Season 7), “a few chests filled with eggs” = Grian + his quest to clog up his messaging system with Mumbo (Grian Season 6 ep 22 + many, many more instances)

Scene 7:

Roofed forest: very, very random but I did write this scene with Scar’s first Third Life episode in the background and was imagining the roofed forest he and Grian decimated as the scene he projects here

Also, I need you to know this fight scene was fully rewritten at least four times ;-;

Scene 9:

Mumbo unlocking Grian’s handcuffs: this wasn’t a reference when I wrote the fic but now it’s a reference to the Mumbo side fic I wrote for this au that writes out this scene

Scene 11:

KYEC!Grian’s comment: “I was broke and in need of a flatmate so he could’ve been an arsonist for all I cared, as long as he didn’t touch my stuff” → can I just cite all of the Life series here

Okay, I SWEAR the line, “You watch, Mumbo, I’ll be so subtle that you’ll forget I’m a supervillain” was based on an actual Grian line (or several) that start the same way but I can’t remember where it’s from

Scene 13:

More stolen diamonds: here’s the unofficial start of the Jangler plot lol — the moment this fic’s foundation really “clicked” for me was when I noticed mysterious diamond thievery appeared in both the time travel arc and the Jangler arc, and I was like “I can work with that”

Jellie: I want you to know the staging of this scene was specifically so I could have a reversal of the “villain stroking a cat while scheming” trope where Scar is a) wanting to do a good deed not a villainous one and b) basically getting a plan fed to him

Scene 14:

Okay pretty much this scene’s basically the transcribed version of a scene from Grian’s Season 6 ep 56 lmao but ig I’ll just talk more about how I thought to include the Jangler plot in the first place; originally, the premise of this fic was adapted from an abandoned non-MCYT fic draft I had floating around in my WIP folder, where the two characters were university dormmates who were unknowingly also vigilante partners + there was a whole Miraculous Ladybug style love square going on (on second thought, I was basically just making MLB with vigilantes lmao). When I got the idea to adapt it to a Desert Duo-centric superhero trying to catch supervillain fic, I wanted to make it platonic since most of the superhero aus I’ve read for the pair are romantic and I wanted to do smth different — the problem was that getting rid of the romance also got rid of a lot of the tension between the characters, so I needed smth to replace it — hence the detective/Jangler dynamic being included to make sure both characters were actively hiding a secret from the other at all times

Scene 16: 

This is probably a little obvious on second read but I did leave a comment to myself on one of my draft docs pointing out that KYEC!Scar decided to continue going out as the Jangler (even though he’d already technically fulfilled the returning diamonds thing he’d invented the persona for) because he overheard Grian talking about how he’d prefer to have more to work on + would get money from it 

Scene 18:

Attempted murder: back on the Season 6 reference train we go! This is from Grian’s ep 12 where he pranks an AFK Jevin by putting him on a flying machine and the game glitches and sends Jevin falling to his death

Scene 20:

The foreshadowing here is very obvious but this scene was a last minute addition I did not plan to include but was compelled to write bc I needed something to lighten the mood a bit since it was getting too serious and also bc I wanted to include the “sweet job” pun. Yes, I know it’s terrible. Yes, I laugh at it every time.

Scene 21 + 22: 

Cookie trail: here’s another “mostly transcribed” scene from Grian’s Season 6 ep 57 — I ran into a little problem logistically since flying isn’t the norm in this world but is in Hermitcraft, so I had to shove in the whole “flying machine to reach the top of the cookie” thing lmao 

KYEC!Stress: she does not make an appearance but I gave her ice powers bc of her ice castle base in Season 6

Scene 24: 

This entire scene is just Desert Duo dancing around each other trying to keep their secret identities secret but KYEC!Scar’s comment, “I always forget what information’s public” is a bit of irony that made me laugh while writing bc it comes straight after he accidentally reveals he knows where the cookie was

Scene 25–28:

Hitman after KYEC!Grian: yep this goes back to Grian’s Season 6 ep 14 where Jevin puts out a hit on Grian after the AFK prank that Iskall tries to carry out 

Grian’s trap: this is obviously just the trap for Iskall that Grian makes to stop him but I would like you to know that I went back to the episode to count the number of pistons used to make sure it lined up lmao

Scene 28 is also basically just a very dramatic version of the chase scene in this episode with some Watcher paranoia for spice

Scene 30–31:

Time machine: time to circle all the way back around to this plot lol — I didn’t think it made sense for KYEC!Grian to build a time machine himself during all of this but he still gets access to one in the end thanks to Mumbo. Grian’s Season 6 ep 79 has him go back in time to stop his diamonds from being stolen, only to realize he’s the one who stole them in the first place, and I thought it was a fitting way to end the fic after all the diamond stealing shenanigans

And hey, that's it! That list totally didn't take me like two hours to write up and find the episodes for! No wonder I had to restructure this fic like seven times when writing it!

Anyway, if you read this far, thanks for indulging my madness :) And to anyone who's engaged with any of my fics, thank you thank you thank you for every hit, kudos, comment, and bookmark!

#fanfic writing #ao3 #KYEC #hermitcraft fic #wow this list is longer than anticipated #okay then #i had to dig through all my notes and draft docs for this #it was an experience

[d-c-it]

I rather forget- 7

Intro, One, Patton, Logan, Roman 1, Roman 2, Virgil, Dark

Summary: It always starts with a kiss and goes downhill from there, doens't it.

Ships: platonic DRLAMP, romantic Roceit, platonic anxceit, platonic intrulogical

Warnings: sympathetic Deceit, Remus being a trash man, mentions of blood, a lot of innuendos and curses, panic attacks, you know, the usual.

Not beta-ed we die like man.

A/N: Ha…hahaha… heyyyy. Not sure anyone is still interested in this. But I decided to finish it for the sake of my sanity. I found It on my drive and re-read it and… kinnnda tried to remember where I was going with it.

Kindly reminder this story is set just after Remus was introduced. Gonna proof read the other chapters and edit them on ao3, not here tho. Too annoying. Still going to post them here. Gonna tag the ppl that asked to be tagged. If you don’t want to be tagged anymore pls lemme know.

.

“Roman!”

When the creative side opened his eyes, the first thing he did was kiss Deceit.

There were plenty of things wrong with that decision though. Firstly, he had thought he put those urges behind him. Secondly, surely, surely he didn’t feel that way about the lying side anymore. Thirdly, even if the first and second statements were untrue, it wouldn't matter, because the Deceit he was trying to kiss was a memory… right? He would pass straight (gay?) through him, right? RIGHT? So why were the lips on his so warm and soft…and…?

“Ouch!” he said, as he covered his now bitten lips with his hand. “What the hell?” he glared at Deceit. 

Oh god.

“I should be asking that!” hissed the snake side, Roman felt a little smug at the subtle blush on his cheeks. “You’re ice cold! What are you, especifically you, doing here?” The hold on his arms was bruising hard, Deceit helped him up, one hand on his waist as the yellow side realized Roman could barely stand.

“We were trying to find… what were we…?” Roman could barely think. Deceit was basically carrying him through the halls that now looked more like a maze.

“We? What is this we? The others are also here?” he was glaring, Roman was getting glared at. What a pair of pretty eyes… “Focus, Roman.” 

Roman frowned, trying to remember what exactly he was doing just a minute ago. Wasn't he on a date? What was Dee panicking about? Weren’t they having a good time? Another one of Deceit’s hands was brought to his face, caressing his cheek. Roman melted under it, closing his eyes and getting ready to be kissed.

“Roman!” Deceit hissed instead.

The prince opened his eyes wide, in a moment of clarity he freed himself from Deceit’s grasp. He looked around frantically. Where the heck was Virgil? 

“Anxiety brought you here?”

“No!” Roman finally stood up, realizing he had spoken aloud, but just as he found his balance the place rumbled. Deceit’s face turned pale as both of them stumbled.

“Thomas is here.” Roman turned to look at him so fast he almost got whiplash.

“How…?” 

“Come on. We need to get you out of here and Thomas.” Roman could only mutter a quiet ‘but Virgil…’ as Deceit dragged him around. “Shit.” He stopped and turned, following an unknown path for Roman. “He must be close… Let’s go, my prince.”

Blame it on the state the subconscious had him in. Blame it on his cold limbs or the confusing state of his mind. But Roman may have swooned at that.

.

“I don’t think this idea is worth us all dying.”

“We are not dying, Thomas, you silly goose.” laughed Patton, as they dodged the gray frames that had catched up to them. “...Right, Lo?”

“Indeed.” answered the logical side, looking a bit out of breath. “We are… after all…figments…”

“Of my imagination, right. Well, I am very real!” screamed Thomas, as one wave of frames almost touched him turning a corner. 

He screamed again when, having successfully made it to the new hallway, he came face to face with Remus. Thomas didn’t know who’s screech was louder, his, Remus’s or the others, but as he fell to the floor he watched the Duke smash down the closest frames with his morning star. Patton grabbed his hand, Remy holding his other one as they turned to keep running. He saw Remus grabbing Logan by the back of his shirt pulling him back to start running too. He would have laughed at the funny image, but there were more worrisome things going at the moment.

“You so owe me a blowjob after this, Logi.”

“Not the time, Remus.”

“OH, so there will be a time?”

“Can you horny bitches focus!?” yelled Remy. Thomas thanked him mentally, he didn’t need that image on his mind, perhaps he could put it here? 

Another wall went up between them and the threatening frames, having got some distance thanks to Remus’s intervention. Everyone sighed in relief, running around was starting to tire them up. Well, everyone except Remus.

“So? What’s with this party and why wasn’t I invited? I know some cool party tricks.” he said, balancing his morning star on his nose. Some of the spikes pierced his skin and made him bleed. Thomas suddered, but also realized something.

“You saved us!” he exclaimed. Startling the Duke, making his weapon fall from its balancing position. He looked down at it with a pout, when he looked at Thomas his face was free from scratches. “Why did you save us?” The Duke only shrugged, picking at his nose. Patton scolded him.

“Of course he saved us.” answered Logan instead. Fixing his tie. “ We are all part of you, Thomas. As I have exhaustedly reminded you, we want what's best for you…”

“Hey bitch, can you make me a starbucks? I’m dying here.” Thomas heard Remy say, still processing Logan's words. He saw Remus appear what at first glance did look like a Starbucks coffee, but…

“Eugh, are those dicks?”

“Stardicks coffee, my own brand!”

“And it’s neon green because…?”

“It’s radioactive!”

“...In our own kind of way.”finished Logan, shaking his head. “Why are you here, Remus?”

“I knew Roman was here!” squealed the Duke. “For a while now, thought the kinky bastard was jerking off somewhere near, thought about giving him a scare you know?” he cackled, playing with his mustache. Patton made a face, Thomas frowned at the statement. There was something weird with it. Logan just nodded.

“You were worried about him then.” Remus screeched, making everyone flinch, but didn’t deny the statement. Thomas blinked.

“Oh my god, I completely misjudged you.”

“DON’T LISTEN TO THE NERDY WOLVERINE! HE DOESN’T KNOW WHAT HE’S TALKING ABOUT!”

“I always know what I’m talking about.” defended Logan.

“Infinitesimal.” grinned Remus.

“THAT WAS ONE TIME.”

.

Virgil was pacing. He wasn't panicking. He was living his best life. The floor wasn’t moving on its own and the room was definitely not getting smaller by the second.

He gasped for breath. He couldn’t breathe. If he couldn’t breathe he was going to die. He was dying. Wait, no, he couldn’t die, Logan had said so. Many times in fact. He couldn't die, but he was going to be feeling like this forever because he didn’t need oxygen. He was going to be drowning forever. No. Focus. He had to focus. Logan. Oh god, where was Logan? No, what did Logan say? The five things, five things he could see.

“Blue frames, red frames…” where the hell had Roman go? “Orange frames, green frames, yellow, yellow…” 

He curled up against the wall, sitting on the floor and hugging his legs.

“I can feel the wall, I can feel my clothes, I…” 

Everything started to shake again, making the colorful frames shake where they were hanging until eventually they started falling. He unthinkingly catched one.

It was green.

.

tag list:

@the-strawman

@mochasandwords

@askthesnake

@no-no-no-no-6

@korsaromantic66

@that-one-nb-kid

@scared-ghosthunter

@avocados26

@itsabsurd-and-terrifying

@thewormsheep

@immoral-bitch 

@thenaids

@xachery-apollo

#sanders sides #thomas sanders sides #ts patton #patton sanders #ts logan #logan sanders #ts roman #roman sanders #ts virgil #virgil sanders #ts deceit #deceit sanders #janus sanders #but not yet #ts remus #remus sanders #tw remus #tw anxiety #tw morality #tw blood #tw curses #tw inuendos #tw panic attack #ts remy #remy sanders #i rather forget au #platonic drlamp #oh thats new #romantic roceit #platonic anxceit

[nadiawrites14]

everything’s fractal

wc: 1.7k

okay this is a follow up to the fic i posted yesterday because these are the only two men i have brain worms for and i also need to keep writing every day or else i lose. anyways. hold hands or whatever

“I read your book,” Florijan declared. “It gave me a nightmare.”

Laszlo spun around, eyes wide as his gaze met Florijan’s. “Hello to you too, dear. Why did it give you a nightmare?”

Florijan shrugged, plucking it from his coat pocket and handing it back to Laszlo. “It was scary. I think you should return it to the library.”

“Uh, alright.” Laszlo stared at the cover. A Full History of Yugoslavia — Tito and Onwards. Debating, he shoved it in the bag tossed on his wheelchair, and started leading himself from the conference room. “Did it give you some context, at the very least? What made it... scary? I don’t think I understand.”

Florijan followed, his hands shoved in the pockets of his long gray jacket, ruined threads and tears running throughout it. “It gave me context... I don’t like the context. I don’t understand the brutality of it,” he said. “And I don’t like how we didn’t have a say in anything. And I didn’t like all the death and destruction and suffering. It didn’t have to be that way.”

“It, uh, it sure didn’t,” Laszlo muttered.  He had begun to wonder if Slovenia’s newest president had even the faintest clue of the region’s own history. His face flushed an event of red, and he paused outside. “Let’s sit and talk. That works?”

Florijan nodded, his lips a thin line. “That certainly works, Laszlo.”  

Laszlo patted the bench beside him and leaned forward as Florijan sat. From the morbid expression on Florijan’s face and the scrunched eyebrows on his, he almost began to feel like a parent giving a child a hapless explanation for a death in the family. The death being whatever history of Yugoslavia Florijan had believed before. “You seem bothered.”

“Learning about history makes me sad. I don’t like it.”

“You’re a man with a lot of empathy. There’s nothing wrong about that,” Laszlo replied.

Florijan huffed, his gangly hands folded into a neat bundle. “I feel duped. I feel duped that there was all this stuff I didn’t know. And I just lived my life without realizing any of it. I knew about the war. I knew there was a lot of people killed in it and that ever since then we’ve been seven instead of one. But all of those photographs, and the articles, and, and, and, the brutality of all of it. And we weren’t even fighting by our own means,” he mused, his voice trembling as he spoke. “Oh, Laszlo, it’s very sad.” Laszlo looked up when he felt Florijan’s gaze transfixed on him. “I see what you meant now. When you said what a troublemaker you are. But, but, you’re not. You’re a very good man with a big heart. Just because Macedonia has a bad rap doesn’t mean you should.”

Laszlo’s mouth twitched into a small smile before he looked away. “We shouldn’t have a bad rap at all.”

“I know,” Florijan said, putting his hand on top of Laszlo’s. “I know now. Izet always made these jokes that I could never understand, these vile jokes about you and Miss Arsic and Miss Horvatic. It makes sense now, it does, but I should have thought, oh... I don’t understand.”

Laszlo shifted. His hand was an icebox beneath the warmth of Florijan’s. “What don’t you understand?”

“The book... well. I did research, and it says— it says Slovenia isn’t considered a Balkan country. And Izet mentioned that sometimes, but I never really understood it, I just thought it was a consistent error he liked to make. Is it true, Laszlo? I don’t want it to be true. I think you guys are great. And I don’t fit in with Lorenzo and Manon and Aurelia— I mean, they’re great, but I do feel like the odd one out. I can’t speak German or French and they can't speak a word of Slovene or even read Cyrillic. It’s... weird. I always thought it was the other way around.” Florijan’s voice went increasingly distraught, and Laszlo’s panic flared in his chest.

“Don’t get upset. It’s okay. Um, let me explain it to you this way. You guys, the Slovenians, drink wine and beer. Me, Jelka, Svetlana, Agim, we drink rakija. Uhhh... that’s how I’ve heard it explained.”

“I don’t drink, Laszlo, I hate drinking! It doesn’t make sense,” Florijan let out a whimper of frustration and inhaled. “I apologize. This is making me rather emotional. Can you just— hm. Explain it to me like you would anybody else, and I’ll try not to get upset.”

“Don’t apologize. It’s fine. Promise. Erm,” Laszlo felt the back of his neck and his eyes touched the ceiling. He squinted through the glass panelling at the fractured afternoon sun. “Okay. It’s like, a stereotype, really, that you guys are more poised. You’re better. Less boisterous. You don’t fight or argue or make mountains from molehills. You handle things like those posh westerners do.” Laszlo steadied his gaze, and chuckled to himself. “You’re seen as one of the good ones. Too rich, too lavish, too educated to be grouped in with us,” he continued, dripping with venom. “But, Florijan,” his voice shifted back into a soft explanation. “I know you don’t think that way. Izet might have. Hell, the rest of the world might, but you don’t have to. You have the ability to decide what opinions you have, and that’s what’s so beautiful about history. Yes, it’s scary and depressing and leaves you feeling desolate and morbid but it gives you perspective. Needed perspective. So, uh, don’t lose sleep over it, alright? Just... make the right choice.” Laszlo straightened in his chair, as if he were defending himself at one of the various sessions or meetings with his cabinet or with the throng of fellow leaders. “Make your own choice.”

Florijan had never realized the sound of his own voice. He’d always thought his accent sounded different than that of the other Slavs who came to visit Izet, their tones and pronunciation being more defined, more proper, less casual. Everything was conducted with an air of dignity, a twill of formality sprinkled on posture and manners. He hadn’t known it was a unique thing until it all came into perspective. He also hadn’t noticed before how when Laszlo spoke at the meetings, his Slavic accent seemed to melt away in favor of what sounded like a mock British thing. When Laszlo spoke at those meetings, the uncharacteristic severity of his adoptive accent was dour and exuding with bitterness and icy etiquette. The way Laszlo spoke now, though, and the way he spoke at the library, was comfortable, relaxed, his voice soothing and not characterized by the harsh intonations of a western disguise. His accent was beautiful, it was colorful and chaotic but also fun and fitting all at once. It was uniquely Laszlo.

Florijan didn’t want him to hide the person he was beneath all those layers. He found himself first outstretching a hand, wordlessly, which Laszlo took, eyebrows furrowed. Then, with his emotion pouring out like an opened set of floodgates, he reached out both his arms and enveloped Laszlo in a hug. Florijan squeezed, careful to not hurt his friend, and rested his head in the corner of Laszlo’s neck, his eyes shut tight. Laszlo froze for a moment, stunned and caught like a red-handed criminal, and hugged back. Just slightly. His hands shook as he patted Florijan’s back and listened to the sound of his aggressive heartbeat. It was Florijan who let go first, folding like a house of cards and keeping his movements light and gentle. When Laszlo looked up, he realized Florijan’s eyes were welling up. “I don’t want you to hide from yourself just because the world said so!” Florijan whimpered, wiping his tears away with his sleeve.

Laszlo had never been so aware of the sound of his own heartbeat in his chest. It was so strong and filled his ears with that drumbeat of blood and life. He shut his eyes, choking back a tidal wave of emotion and hearing the pounding inside of his head. Like a swimmer coming up for air, he took in a long breath and turned back to a brimming Florijan, smiling like a politician. “Ah, thank you, dear. It means a lot to me that you say that. Thank you. Really, thank you.”

“Oh, Laszlo, you’re such a good man. You were so good today. You’re so clever and intelligent and wonderful, I don’t see why you have to hide behind— I don’t see why you should hide at all.” Florijan sniffled, making paws with his sweater and rocking back and forth in his place. “I look up to you.”

Laszlo felt that pit in his stomach again and his mouth grew dry. He sat there, a rubberneck to his own wreck, slack-jawed and wide-eyed. “Awh, shit, dear. I look up to you too. You’re an admirable fellow. I’m happy to be here with you. You’re doing amazing.”

Florijan swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded, blinking away the last of his tears. He grabbed Laszlo’s hands again, giving them a tight squeeze. Laszlo gazed at Florijan’s olive green nail polish. “That’s— that’s my favorite color, some fun Mincef trivia.”

Holding up his hand to study his own nails and then gaze back at Laszlo, Florijan beamed. “Green is beautiful! It’s the color of life.”

Laszlo nodded, his mouth a faint smile. “Yeah, yeah. You feel better now?”

Florijan nodded his head. “Thank you for talking with me… dear.”

“Noooooo problem, dear!” Laszlo responded, aiming finger guns and shooting with two snaps of his fingers. “Always a pleasure to see you around. I hope we can see each other more often.” To be fair, Laszlo thought, relations had especially stalled with Izet in power. Maybe it was time to repair that.

“Mmph,” Florijan replied, his head bobbing up and down. He kissed Laszlo’s outstretched hand and got to his feet, placing one of his firm hands on Laszlo’s shoulder. “I’ll see you around.” His words were smiling almost as wide as he was.

“See ‘ya.” Laszlo gave a salute.

Florijan saluted back, giggling as he disappeared towards the dorms.

Laszlo heard his heart pounding again.

#ah #men #they exist #these ones though <3 #sobs #we are on laszlo/florijan lockdown #what s the ship name vote on your phones #call that #macevlenia #? #sorry that is awful #i will leave #laszlo mincef #florijan kovac #my writes #writeblr #liaisons #go crazy #lemme put this on ao3 for the heck of it too

[koulakoukoula2003]

Hiiii, so um I just finished reading this fanfic from Ao3 called Small Horizons, its an erwinXreader story and ohmygod it broke meee 😭😭 so here I am, on my knees 🙇, humbly begging to you the patron saint for us Erwin simps 🛐, if you could spare us a moment and feed us an Erwin Fanfic where he makes it alive from shiganshina 🛐😭🛐😭🛐 please i beg youuu 🙇🙇 PS youre an amazing human and i love you and your works, good luck on your exams 😭✊🥺😍

Omg thank you so much anon, you're an angel 🥰🥰🥰🥰

And I should definitely check out that fic then, I live for the pain AHAHHAHA but I totally feel you, Erwin's death broke me like I'm crying every time I rewatch s3 like the masochistic bitch I am lmao

But if you really are into fix-it longfics, I'mma just let you know I am writing a huge fix-it longfic that is an Erwin x OC (it's gonna turn big and it's gonna be an emotional ride) but I promise you there's no way I'm letting Erwin die in that fic. I post a new chapter every two days ❤ you'll find that fic on ao3 here.

But if you're not interested in long boring fics, then lemme just feed you right now *stretches fingers*

Taglist: @syrma-sensei @hopeless-daydream3r @macyomoiji (I will answer your INCREDIBLE ask soon!!) @antoxsmith (I will post your ask soon but it's too big I warn you AHAHAHA)

You had tried to talk to him. Heck, even Levi had tried to talk him out of it, but it hadn't worked. You knew how stubborn he could be. You knew he put his plans and his dreams his work above anything and anyone else - even you. The woman that he loved. Even though he never told you - because he couldn't tell you he loved when one day he was going to die. When he knew that this relationship would go nowhere.

You had been together for as long as you could remember yourself. You knew he'd choose his job over you, but you didn't mind it. You knew he'd choose death over you if it meant that his brilliant plans would bear fruition. He had made it clear to you when he first kissed you - this relationship had only one final destination and that was tragedy. It wasn't the peaceful world you had both devoted your hearts into. It wasn't the family you had dreamt so many times to have with him.

You knew that. And he had given you the choice to back away - to fall for someone else other than himself. He had given you the choice to let him go. But there was no way you were going to do that, because your heart belonged to him, and letting go of him would be the same as tossing your heart into the gutter.

You wouldn't be happy without him.

And here you are now as he gave his massive, heart-wrenching speech. As he led hundreds of young soldiers to their deaths. As he led you and himself to your demise. The Beast was right ahead of you, smashing rocks in his hands and preparing to toss the pebbles to massive speeds. You were all going to die. You just knew it. And it would be a massive mistake if you had listened to him to join Levi and let him die.

No. You would die with him.

It was your last request of him. To let you die with him.

The rocks came to your way, so fast, it was the end. You riding alongside him. Always beside him. One struck you first, and one came for him, and even though you were prepared to die yourself, you weren't prepared to watch him die. No, you always wanted to die first. You didn't want to watch it. So you did the unthinkable.

You jumped off your horse to his side. You shoved him off his horse with your body, and you took the hit of the rock that was coming for him. You shrieked in pain and he cried out your name. He landed down on the soil on his back and he wrapped his arm around you and shielded you with his body as the horses of the other soldiers would inevitably step on you both.

But they didn't even get the chance. Death came in waves and it was done so soon. So many people died. Here you both were now, in a sea of corpses and wailing horses and dead people. He was holding you so tight in his one arm, hoping to protect you, because you were the last person he wanted to die. But he was mad at you. So many people had died, and he had led them to this, and he was supposed to die with them. He was no exception. You shouldn't have saved him. THose soldiers - those kids deserved to live but they had died because of him, and you had saved him.

"What have you done, Y/n?!" He growled at you, pulling back, settling your limp body on his lap and his arm found your cheek, your bloody shirt, your wide-open wound that you had taken in his place. "This wasn't how it was supposed to be," He gritted his teeth. He shook you in place. "You said we would die together!" He shouted at you. "We'd die together! Not you alone! You shouldn't have taken that for me. You shouldn't have jumped in!"

You coughed up blood and even though he was frustrated and furious at you, you could tell he was panicking. He was panicking, because he was losing you. Your bloody hand reached up for his face. You cupped his cheek in your gentle fingers and he closed his eyes and leaned onto your hand. If he lost you, who was ever going to touch him like this? Love him like this?

"No, no, no, no, no, I can't lose you, not you, not you..." He was breaking down. You could tell.

"I love you... so much, my darling Erwin..." You smiled at him weakly. "...my beloved man," Your head rolled back to unconsciousness and you heard him shouting your name, but then it all went blank and knew that was it. That was the end.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

You felt a terrible headache, but you could tell you were lying down on a soft bed. Your whole body ached, and that wound in your stomach radiated with pain. You let out a grunt and you opened your eyes. The sunlight breached your eyelids and you had to blink a few times for your eyes to adjust. You were in a room. Your hand reached instinctively for your bandaged waist and you winced.

Erwin's eyes snapped open to your sounds. He had passed out on a chair beside you. He had a book in his lap. He had used it to kill some time whilst he'd spent the last two days by your side. He couldn't leave you not even for a second. Not even when he had an important meeting to attend in the interior. He had denied joining. He wanted to be there for you when you'd wake up.

Your eyes met his own as he hastily stood off his chair and sat beside you, taking your hand in his own. Large fingers engulfed your own and you looked up to see him.

"How're you feeling?" Erwin asked worriedly. Bright blue eyes met your own searching your face for any kind of discomfort.

"It hurts but... I'm... alive?" You asked confusedly and he nodded at you.

"Hange gave you a blood transfusion from Levi's blood. Ackerman blood saved you," He explained and your eyes widened. It was brilliant to think about it. Hange had outdone themself. Erwin brought your hand up and pressed a kiss to the back of your palm. "You shouldn't have done this,"

"I love you, Erwin," You smiled at him. "I would do it again,"

He leaned down and kissed you and you welcomed that kiss more than anything. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and urged him to lie beside you. And he did. He pulled you carefully into him, and you nuzzled in his embrace.

He buried his face in your hair and closed his eyes and he said it for the first time. "I love you too, Y/n,"

#erwin smith #erwin smith imagine #erwin smith fluff #erwin smith angst #erwin smith x you #erwin smith x reader #erwin smith x y/n #erwin x you #erwin x oc #erwin smith x oc #erwin x reader #erwin x y/n #aot erwin #commander erwin #snk #aot #attack on titan imagine #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #erwin angst #erwin imagines #erwin imagine #erwin fluff #erwin aot

[honeysucklepink]

Anyway, Here's Wonderwall (5/?)

Day 5: Orientation (also on AO3)

Damn it, Kurt muttered. He’d been caught staring at Blaine. So sue him, Blaine may try to steal all of Kurt’s opportunities out from under him but he’s still hot. But he can’t think about that right now.

Kurt was supposed to fly out of Heathrow tomorrow, and be back in Ohio in time to spend the holidays with his parents. While he was never going to fully feel at home in Lima, not after spending enough years in New York, he missed Burt and Carole and it had been too long since he had seen them last. Not to mention all the great gifts he’d gotten them shopping at Oxford Street. And this year he was bringing Dani back with him; when they learned she was on the outs with her family after coming out and spending another Christmas alone, they “adopted” her for the holidays. Now he was stuck here, Burt and Carole might end up spending the holiday without him, and Dani would have another orphan Christmas.

He found himself looking at Blaine again. Huh, come to think of it, he’d never seen Blaine’s parents at any of his performances at school. Maybe he was in the same boat - holiday with friends instead of family…

“Do you think if you keep staring at him, he’ll explode?” Elliott asked. “Cause lemme tell you, that will be one heck of a mess to clean up and Adam is too nice to put that task on. I’ve seen Scanners.”

“I wasn’t staring! I was, um, looking at the pictures over the bar.”

“No, you were staring all right,” Dani said. “But I think you want a whole different kind of explosion from that guy.”

“I do not.” Kurt bristled at Dani’s suggestion. “That’s the last thing I want from Blaine Anderson.”

“Methinks you doth protest too much,” Dani said.

“You do realize just because we’re in England, doesn’t mean you have to recite Shakespeare.”

“If the sonnet fits…”

“Dani, stop teasing him,” Elliott said. “But Kurt, come on. Let’s be serious for a moment. You and Blaine have this whole rivalry thing right now, but you seem to have forgotten the first time you mentioned Blaine to me, and it was not with disdain.”

“I’m sure I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“So you don’t recall telling me about the hottest new guy at NYADA orientation, with ‘dreamy hazel eyes and an ass like a ripe peach’?”

Kurt rolled his eyes. “I never said a peach. Maybe a nectarine.”

“I’m just saying, you are both good-looking and talented people, that are letting what is probably a lot of misunderstanding and miscommunication get in your way. Besides, I had to put up with all this rivalry stuff with Rachel and Santana, and I’m not doing it again.”

“Listen up, everyone,” Adam said, loud enough for the bar patrons to hear without shouting. “Here’s the situation. We’re likely here for the night, maybe more.” Groans came from several in the crowd, including Kurt. “Now fortunately we weren’t fully booked, we have three more rooms available. In addition, I’m going to give up my office; it’s got a spare bed, and it’s only fair. That being said, we don’t have room for everyone. Some of you are going to have to sleep on pallets down here. Now, if you need a room, please come see me.”

Kurt began to stand, but Elliott stopped him. “I got this, Kurt. You sit tight with Dani.”

Kurt sat back down, somewhat relieved he had one less thing he had to stress over. What he didn’t notice was Elliott talking to Adam… and Blaine’s bandmate Wes.

#klaine advent 2021 #klaine advent: orientation #anyways here's wonderwall #pink writes things #still woefully behind #but still progress!

[quwarichi]

heard from your mother au - The Ripple Effect

this is my early birthday gift for @schmuzz1 Ever heard of the ripple effect? you probably did but let's go over it once more; the ripple effect is like if you took a rock and threw it into a lake. Where the rock would hit and sink a ripple would be created, and from there it would only grow bigger and bigger, taking over more space, until the water settles again.

HFYM is the ripple effect ficsonified. The premise is simple, for those who watched the episode Despair in the last season of Supernatural. Castiel confesses his love to Dean, gets taken by the Empty. He wakes up in 2003 in a motel room, without his memories and only a memory saying “Don’t do this, Cas” which helps him figure out his name is Cas, and that he’s a hunter. Simple.

Then he meets Dean.

Now, we’ve all read various pre-series fics, haven’t we? It’s a token when giving fans a time-gap that we don’t know much about, they’d try to fill it as best as their imagination limitations will help them. So what is so special about HFYM?

In a word; Cas.

Meet this angelic being, who without his memories fully believes his humanity, and drives around the US not looking for answers, exactly, but just trying to help out to the best of his ability. By putting Cas in a setting pre-series, and letting the readers know that this Cas is their Castiel, the story already kicks into gear with a race to see when and how Cas will affect the story.

We didn’t know about angels until season 4. We didn’t THINK there was a better way to kill demons other than the Colt until season 3. Characters and themes that we would’ve taken years to get to know in the show are being used and constantly appear throughout what HFYM would call season 0 (or is that just me? make some noise). But Cas changes all of that just by being. For this next part, I recommend you stop reading this post if you haven’t read this fic, go read it in its entirety, and come back here after you’re done and had time to adjust.

We good? Good.

Pamela Barnes, the love of my life and a five-episode cameo in the Supernatural show. In HFYM, she acts as Cas’ best friend most of the time, teaching him the highs (hehe) and lows of having what they all figure is a really developed psychic ability. Bringing Pamela in chapter 16 was not only a brilliant use of character but a ripple effect. But I get ahead of myself. To understand why Pamela is suddenly there, we need to identify the biggest ripple of them all; Dean fucking Winchester.

Dean and Cas, from the start, develop a sort of kinship. It’s reminiscent of their first meeting in Lazarus Rising, where Castiel rescues Dean but also has its own charm. Here, Cas has no idea he’s an angel, and that’s why humanity is so strange to him. Dean views Cas as a weirdo that is not to be trusted, and later as a weirdo that he can kinda trust but make sure to watch his back around him.

In a way, they’re mirrors. Cas’ effortless way of creating acquaintances highlights just how isolated Dean is from people because of John’s influence. Whenever they’re together, Dean finds himself surrounded by others too, but apart it’s clear that Cas (to much of my, and probably his, surprise) is the social one.

Quoting the fic tags: “like maybe if he [Pre-series Dean Winchester] got a boyfriend he would have calmed down” is the very abstract explanation of the ripple effect. By being isolated for so long, without even Sam to keep him company, Dean couldn’t develop properly, resulting in the Dean we get in season 1. But ripples (courtesy of Cas) reach him and that’s where it all comes together. By meeting Cas pre-series Dean is given two things; one, no more isolation, time to grow sunshine. Two, a romantic subplot.

Now I don’t know how much you know about media - but romantic subplots are usually very character forwarding if done right. The best thing about the romantic subplot in HFYM is that it’s not immediate. Fuck no. It’s built on months of friendship and a bond forged in hunting, in putting each other’s lives in the other’s hands like it’s nothing. When they finally get together (I did the math, they get together when the story is like, halfway over. 52% to be exact) it makes sense because you watched them forge the bond and thus pushing their character development further. Romantic subplots are one of the best ways to push a character to their limits (looking at you, chapter 49) and then break those limits. So the biggest ripple was basically Cas and Dean thinking “huh, lemme smooch” and then doing it instead of eye fucking for twelve years.

But that’s not what I’m talking about, exactly. The biggest ripple effect that Cas did with Dean is that when season 1 starts (did I mentioned this was a canon rewrite? We love multitasking), when Dean goes to get Sam for Jericho and everything is put into hyperdrive, Dean is different. It affects how people around him act, especially Sam. The first season is very Sam-driven, but the main character will be changed by changing the “supporting” cast. It doesn’t help that Cas ripple effect number 2932#: Save Jess has definitely quelled the grief-rage thing that Sam has going on in canon since she’s not gone, and is actually around them for a while before leaving to work with Bobby and Jo. Sam immediately notices that something’s different about Dean, but he can’t put a finger on it. Requoting tags: “he would have calmed down”. Gone is the aimless rage and loss that makes him reckless and drinking too much. Gone are the women chasing days because he’s in a committed relationship. Heck Dean has a bit of self-esteem now, having bagged that (points at frog-shirt wearing Cas) and it affects the story in the way he and Sam interact.

Sam can feel that Dean’s hiding something from him (Cas) and it makes a rift between them because he doesn’t get who’s this hunter Dean hangs out with that is definitely replacing Sam in Dean’s eyes - the same guy who used weird powers to save Jess from a demon. Dean is still hurt over Sam leaving for Stanford and anxious about him finding out about Cas and John and everything. Basically, take season 1 brother dynamics and throw a live grenade in the mix. That grenade is Cas, btw.

Ripples, man.

Cas affects the story - he gets Dean to get back in touch with Bobby because he’s looking for an explanation for why he heals from mortal wounds like it’s nothing, why he doesn’t need sleep, and why he’s never hungry. Bobby connects Cas to Pamela, thinking Cas is an odd psychic, and Pamela becomes inherently important in the way that she helps Cas control his powers and provides his first real… non-platonic experience (off-screen, dw they’re friends) that later helps him discern what Dean is to him. Through Bobby, he also meets Ellen and Jo, in the Roadhouse. He goes on hunts alone, and finds a knife that helps him save a possessed girl named Taylor who is later a part of an actual episode (Hookman) and there’s recognition, she’s not just a standby person and that connects with Jess’ storyline, that connects with Sam’s storyline that connects with Dean’s storyline. By being him, Cas creates ripples everywhere he touches because he’s not supposed to be there.

The otherwise undisturbed surface is broken because Cas is there to break it and create ripples that connect with each other, all unknowingly, and the way it’s constructed is incredible.

I could add more about Dean’s bisexuality journey or realization, or how lack of trauma makes Cas a lot more narrative-free but it could all come crashing down on him if he remembers the past, or how Sam and Jess are so interesting like yes girl flesh out the revenge reason we see in three episodes, but this is getting long and I could always make new posts about this fic that I love so much.

Happy birthday, Jenn, you’re an incredible friend and writer and I’m so lucky to have found you in this mayhem of a fandom.

Go read heard from your mother (she don’t recognize you) on ao3, you magnificent people.

#happy birthday jenn #i couldn't think of what to get you so i wrote a fic meta about your fic that gives me life so thank you #i tried really hard to think about what drew me to the fic and ripples was the answer so here have some ripple effect drama #could i have written a fic? yes but fic meta is something that can be so personal sometimes #love finding themes in here that you probably didn't think about when you wrote this totally 50k fic #love you so much babe i hope you enjoyed this #heard from your mother au #hfym au #fic meta #destiel #spn #destiel fic

[00gangfriend00]

I was tagged by @jade-marie and @bourbon-ontherocks to list my top 10 books  fics I read in 2020.

and lemme tell you..

i’ve been WAITIN’ for this one!!

This IS a bit tricky because I spent most of 2020 just lurking on AO3, no acccount, no commenting, no kudos. so there are just so so so many fics that I remember pieces of, and have little headcanons that LIVE with me but I have no idea who the author is or what the fic is called.  

so.. that being said, the top 10 is ever changing and could never be fully complete. I just love every author and every fic, you are all so wildly talented. 

❤  a song inside the halls of the dark - ms_scarlet  (@mego42 )

This fic has everything!! a sexy ex-lover rival gang leader, relaxed rio, angry rio, angsty kitchen sex rio. LOFT rio. AND it’s my favourite post-S2 reckoning of all time. There are moments in this fic that I just want to SPAM the gg writing room with. like scrap ur plans. DO. THIS.  Overall, this is such a creative and well-written series.  The characterization is superb, the smut has.... so many feelings, and the angst is AMAZING. There are a couple chapters (I wont give spoilers) that involves Beth in a hotel in Canada that I legit could not stop reading. it’s just all... so damn GOOD. favourite line: You thought I could be something, right? Well, this is that something. The bitch you trained bit back. 

❤  we’re living in a powder keg and giving off sparks - BourbonOnTheRocks  (@bourbon-ontherocks)

Whew! this fic has EVERYTHING. safe house brio. KARMA. brio ignoring each other. snippy, cranky brio. baking shows. mick overhearing loud shower sex. zero communication. brio getting high and giggling! all the feelings. I looooove this fic. like I LOVE it.  it's so creative and it feels so real!! I can play it like a movie in my head. There is so much fun smutty build up, so much tension, anxiety and a very, very, good Thaw Of Feelings which is my fav. I will forever have a soft spot for safe house fics, but this one hilariously twists the trope by doubling down on their idiot stubbornness. genius. favourite line:  He's using her and she's using him. Maybe it's the only thing they're truly equal at.

❤  my girl - elizabethmarks (not on tumblr?)

This fic has everything!!!!!!! (but TW that everything is not for everyone, as the plot primarily revoles around a rape scene.) This fic sets up some of the most soft, emotional, protective brio moments. I also adore how this author handles the delicate subject matter. I work from time to time as a crisis advcate for women and ...... this fic is so accurate and well written. All the emotions beth feels, the way rio reacts to her. everything. I have read this SO many times. It also inludes a Mick POV that will TUG at your HEART.  favourite line: *When on route to Rio’s loft* Rio nods, with that gentle look he has. "Alright, mama. Let's get you home." There's a beat, they both catch it, but neither of them make the correction.

❤  working on things - odenkirk (not on tumblr?)

THIS fic, now this fic has everything!!!!!!!!! masturbation! sexting! weed-smokin horny rio! DEAN?!??! in a way that didnt repulse me???? SEX. kinda threesome??? a heck of a lot of things that I didnt think id be into but then read it and was like HUH, guess i AM. and last but not least, deliciously perfect characterization. This is a fic I ask you to take a risk on. It will pay off. Its fun and oooh soooooooo sexy. Yes, dean goes to pound town too, but I promise- odenkirk makes it WORK.  Blush meter: off the charts. I had to put my phone down and reckon with Jesus.  favourite line:   Rio: Don't get precious, sweetheart. It's you cuz it's you.  AHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!

❤ miles before you sleep - FakePlastikTrees (@nakedmonkey)

THIS AUTHOR has EVERYTHING! FakePlastikTrees is one of those authors where... I read one fic - then buckled my seatbelt and clicked on her account so I could systematically read through every. single. fic. They are often short scenes that feel so true. Her Rio characterization makes me green with (benevolent) envy. and her smut?? oof. top notch.  This fic in particular lives in my heart because it really truly feels like a missing GG scene between Beth and our favourite tattooed babysitter. The atmosphere is tangible and the author slows time down for these two, it stretches out like you are smokin in the suburbs with them. I love a MickFic and this one is top tier. 

favourite line: “Oh come on. He’s a little unhinged.” “Takes one to know one.” 

❤  people can be so cold - s_t_c_s (@sothischickshe)

ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh this fic has EVERYTHING. scrabble competitiveness! annie speaking truths! christmas beth! christmas rio?!?! delicious bickering! CABIN isolation!  gift giving perfection! I could go on and on and on.  This fic just pulls you straight in. stcs crafts the timeline so effortlessly, and weaves it with so many endearing and authentic feeling details (beth has her own ‘guys’ now, and we know this bc she gives them sweets and food. OF COURSE) The longing between her and rio is so RICH. if you want your heart to swell a million sizes - this is the fic for you.  favourite line:  They hadn’t – been intimate yet, back when she got him arrested, or the first few times he’d shoved a gun in her face. And the sexual part had been all done and dusted prior to their, god, kidnapping and shooting fiasco. But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t present throughout – a hovering spectre, forming a treacherous spine through all their endeavours.

  ❤ listening through the air shaft - ms_scarlet (@mego42)

now this fic. actually for real, has everything. because its every POV you never knew you NEEDED.  and mego42 absolutely nails each and every one. especially Dean. Its a complicated look into his blubbering sexist mind, and misguided fixations that is really well-written. The way in which brio has their own arc throughout the chapters, but told through the eyes of those around them - is amazing. this fic just makes you love every character even MORE.  favourite line: well.. annie, mick and ruby have a group chat and thats all you need to know. anytime that comes up = favourite line.

❤ instigator - nomind (@inyoursheets)

be still my bisexual heart. this fic has everyONE! Yes, this fic dissolves into perfect threesome smut BUT before you get there, you get this awesome set up of a dangerous-feeling connection between Rhea and Beth. They are honest, open and fully acknowledging the fuckedupness of their desire. For how small a part Rhea has in the show - this author NAILS her voice, it’s uncanny. Both of them talking about rio? sign me up. Rio coming home to it? sign me UP.  favourite line: “Jesus,” she hears behind her. “What am I looking at right now?” Rhea smiles down on her, ignoring him, running her fingers through Beth’s hair.

** shout out to another be-still-my-bi-heart fic : @sothischickshe​’s “its a dirty, dirty, game”

❤ do not pass go - linzackles @mrslackles

this. fic. has. every. thing.  I am currently putting every single important thing in my life on hold to PLOUGH through this series. like full speed ahead. UGH. marcus!!! beth and rio at an event! a fancy one! big bad business dudes! betrayal! beth making bad choices! rio unable to fully communicate the weight of his desire for her! angst! just excellent, excellent, excellent plots. i like everything!!!!! favourite line: truly impossible. they are all art. but this one made me cackle.  Shrugging, she responds. In the bathroom, eating nuts.Annie’s reply comes through instantly. Rio’s???????

❤  meet me under the mistletoe - sdktrs12 (@sdktrs12)

this fic.... has.... everything. I want to include this not only because I loooOoOOOved it, but also because this author just has a talent for creating holiday themed brio fics that are not in the slightest cheesy, or forced. which is... hard! to! do! I read her halloween series while in quarantine, and it became apart of my little daily routine. each fic containing at least one moment that made me go AHHH these two!!!!!  so in short - thanks for infusing all my holidays with stellar brio. then christmas comes around and she nails it again! beth and rio begrudgingly working late?   YES. they migh each have a date but they dont DARE talk abut their jealously? YES. Bourbon as a third character? haha YES! Beth looking smokin hot? YES.  favourite line: “Is that your move? Meet me under the mistletoe?”  “Oh baby, you know my moves.”  

and PHEW. there ya go! 

Thank you amazing fanfic authors for making my year 10000000% better. 

I TAG @whiskeyjack @purplemagic @sdktrs12 @joeyjoeylee @ama-ssiempre @roxy206

#favfics #nbc goodgirls #good girls fic #good girls fandom #top10fics

[brandstifter-sys]

Not a Secret

Word Count: 1218                      (Ao3)

Rating: G

Pairing: Moceit

Characters: Patton, Janus, Virgil

Warnings: Food Mention

Patton is having a bad day and Janus is ready to give him the attention he needs. (So I posted this back in May 2019 on my old blog and it’s still cute, I just updated Deceit’s name and made room for the duke.)

---

The den of nostalgia, also known as Patton’s room. It was usually happy, warm, and glowing gold with memories. But not today. Patton wasn't feeling happy, warm, or glowy, he was just lying in bed with the covers over his face. Sometimes he was just feeling sad, and despite admitting that and promising to be more open, he really didn't want the others to see him like this.

“Patton, dear, you know better than to hide your hideous face under the covers.” a familiar voice cooed as a new weight settled on the bed. Those covers came down to his shoulders so he could see the face of the only side who seemed to have a sixth sense. Janus had to have an internal alarm for days like this. He always appeared.

“Hey Jan, good to see you.”

“My sweet turtledove, you know I can see through your lies.” Janus chuckled, “You don't want to be seen.”

“Then you know I want you to leave, just for a little while.”

“Yes, but I'm not going to. I can't leave you completely alone in good conscience.”

“Conscience?”

“I hardly ever listen to it, but I assure you I have one. Why else would I show up?”

“Because you secretly like me and want to talk to me.”

“Secretly? My dear, it's not a secret.” Janus chuckled, “Now you rest, mope, whatever it is you want. I'll be back with some food. We can't have you going hungry.” He got off the bed and navigated his way to the door through the clutter. Patton smiled softly when he left.

“Patton what the heck?!” Virgil snapped when he burst through that same door not a moment later. The smile fell.

“Virge, don’t yell, please.” he whined. Virgil took a deep breath, and sighed. It was one of those days and he was making it worse.

“Why was he in here just now?” he hissed.

“Janus?”

“Uh, yeah!” Patton internally cringed at the exasperation in his voice.

“He was just checking in, saying hi. Nothing bad.”

“You know, you can come to any of us if you feel down, you don't need to resort to that slimeball for help.” Virge pouted and rubbed his neck. Patton could see right through him; he was worried about his best friend. He was worried that a compulsive liar was more important to him than him.

“I know. I love you guys and I said I would be more open. Right now, I just need some space, unless you need something, kiddo.”

“No, not really. Lemme know if you’re not gonna come to movie night. Lo and Ro already canceled.” Virgil replied and left. Patton sighed. He was definitely canceling too, to give a certain strained duo some time alone to do whatever. He wasn’t in the mood to chaperone. All he wanted to do was lay around and mope. Too bad he couldn’t do that, even with Virgil gone.

“Morality.” Janus called and knocked on the door before coming in anyway because Patton was expecting him. Patton didn’t mind, it’s not like he had the motivation to stop him. He had a tray balanced on one hand as he entered. It held a glass of milk, a peanut butter sandwich, and a few cookies.

“I didn’t cut the crusts off,” he hummed, coming to rest on the edge of Patton’s bed. Patton pouted–he hated eating the crust!

“Now that is a face I could just smother in kisses.” Janus droned sarcastically, “Sit up so I can start.” Patton begrudgingly shifted and squirmed from under his covers. Janus set the tray on his lap and waited for his reaction.

“Thanks, Jay.” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. The sandwich had been cut into two heart shapes with a cookie cutter.

“I thought you said—”

“Patton, I didn't cut them off, I simply didn't need that part.” Janus chuckled, “Now eat up so I can give you your space.” Patt tentatively took a bite of the sandwich and eyed Janus curiously.

“Are you really going to go?” Patt questioned, somewhat ruefully.

“No. I’ll hide under your bed and scare away the spiders.” Janus teased, “I'm staying in this room, catching up on my reading, distorting a few minor memories the raccoon had too much influence over, and keeping you company.”

“But I don't really want company” Patton said as he finished his sandwich. It sounded a little distorted due to the peanut butter stuck to the roof of his mouth, but it was understandable as well as adorable. Janus chuckled and shook his head.

“What?” Patton pressed, going for the glass of milk.

“You are a liar.” he hummed, “And I know exactly what you want, so lying to me about it is fruitless.” 

“Hm, and what do I want?”

“You want company—company that doesn't need you to be happy and the voice of positivity. You want to be near people who won't treat you like a fool or a child, people who can see you as you truly are in every aspect without judging or treating you differently. You don’t think Logan and Roman take you seriously, and you don’t want Virgil to worry. You believe what you want is out of reach.” Janus answered plainly. Patton choked on his drink.

“Don't be surprised, Patton.” he chuckled and patted Morality's back to ease the coughing. He was fully capable of honesty, it wasn’t like deception was his only purpose!

“Thanks.” Patt cleared his throat once he caught his breath, “That doesn't explain why you're still here, though.”

“I know the truth, I know you better than the others. The sorrows, the anger, the lingering angst, as well as the joy, the love, and the childish glee. I have the clearest picture of you, and I must say, you are a masterpiece.”

“Thanks, Jay, but I'm a mess.” Patton sighed and bit into a cookie, snapping it in two.

“Mess is the soul of art, duckling.” he cooed, rubbing gentle circles on his back, “You are a vibrant, multifaceted individual who has my unending respect and admiration.”

“Jay,” Patton whined, setting the other half of his cookie on the tray. He wasn't hungry anymore, “Could you move this to the desk? I'm full.” The snake did as he was asked, smirking as he whittled away the front Patton put up.

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” he asked upon his return. Patton tapped his chin and pouted adorably. There was one thing, but he was afraid to say it. He didn't have to.

“Do you want me to sit with you and cuddle?”

“Please.” Patt whimpered. Janus smiled and climbed under the covers, pulling Patton to his chest. Patton leaned into him and closed his eyes. He was so warm, a welcome heat source for the snake. It was like a dream come true, simply to be this close to the kindest, most welcoming side.

“Would you like to hear a secret?” Janus breathed, tickling Patton's ear.

“Sure.”

“I love you.”

“My dear, it's not a secret.” Patton giggled and snuggled closer. His smile fell immediately afterwards, but that was to be expected. Cuddles wouldn't change his mood right away, but they helped.

“Not anymore.” Janus chuckled and kissed his forehead.

#sanders sides #moceit #janus sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #food mention tw #sandyscribed

[nataliedanovelist]

GF - How A Star Is Born ch.XI

A Hercules AU, founded by @evaroze, whom this fic is a gift for. This is the last chapter, so I truly hope you all enjoyed this fun AU, and thank you from the bottom of my heart for your support! 

(Also, a small cameo for @lemonfodrizzleart is in here, so I hope you enjoy!)

ch.X

AO3 link

~~~~~~~~~~

Stan could feel the familiar pressure on his chest when Dipper and Mabel defeated the monster. He did everything he could to keep it at bay until the kids left; they would have stayed, and Bill would have won. Ford might get hurt, so Stan made sure they didn’t know and that they left him.

The second they were gone a powerful wave of pain flared his chest and he sank. Pacifica helped him lie down comfortably against some smooth boulders, unsure if it was safe to move him, and held his hand as he had to endure another heart attack.

Stan’s mind was hazy, but he reminded himself that he was okay with this. He was okay. Dipper and Mabel were gonna in. They got to see each other face to face! Dipper would get to meet Ford, and one day he would get to be with them forever. Heck, Stan even got lucky enough to meet his niece, who he already loved just as much as he loved Dipper. And Ford… he might have been a huge jerk, but he would have liked to see him again. Oh, well. It’s not like Ford would want to see him again.

The old trainer winced and groaned as he could feel his breath being taken away.

Mabel had Gompers go as fast as he could back to Thebes. She, Ford, and Dipper were terrified of what they would come to, but they had to see him again, they had to!

Gompers stopped right where he had picked the young pair of twins up for battle and were distributed to find Stan lying down, he never lied down! Pacifica turned to them, shaking her head and moving aside so they could see how deadly still and pale Stan was.

Ford instantly collapsed onto his knees by his brother’s side. He shook his head, refusing to believe it, and carefully took his hand. “Stanley,” He muttered quietly. “Stanley, it’s me, your brother.”

Mabel was on her knees next to Ford, trembling like a leaf and already crying. “G-G-Grunkle Stan… please…” 

The ruler of the gods scooped his brother up and was distraught when his head fell limp to the side. Ford helped his head lay on his strong arm, tearfully begging and holding his twin close to his fast-beating heart. “Come on, Stanley. P-Please! Wake up! Stanley!” He sobbed and bowed his head, cradling his brother and distraught to find him already cooling down. Ford had never been there for his brother when he needed him to be.

Mabel took Stan’s free, limp hand and kissed it through her tears, then rubbed Ford’s back as he cried freely. Stan appeared much more pale in comparison to the gods that held him close, who shined and glowed like gold. Ford freed an arm to bring her niece closer, and the two held the family member they had so desperately wanted to be reunited with and now would never have a chance to.

Dipper was standing right behind them, shaking with his fists clench. He turned away and sniffed, trying to keep it together, a tiny toxic voice telling him to keep it together and be a man. But the fact that the ruler of the gods was sobbing his heart out behind was enough to help Dipper shed a tear or two, but he couldn’t help but cover his eyes with a hand.

Pacifica hesitated, and then patted his shoulder. “I’m… I’m so sorry, Dipper.” She croaked and glanced back at the broken family. “There’s… some things you just can’t change.”

Scowling and determined with fire in his eyes, Dipper lifted his head and dropped his hand from his eyes. “Yes I can.” And he and Pacifica were gone before Ford or Mabel could realize they were going and they were too busy to notice their disappearances.

~~~~~~~~~~

“WE WERE SO CLOOOOOSE!”

Bill was on a rampage. Now completely alone with no allies and only a sad underworld for his lair, he released his fury by blasting everything in sight with fire. Gideon was well hidden and letting his boss let his anger out, getting fed up of being under the triangle’s thumb and looking for a way out of this; If Pacifica can get her freedom, maybe he can, too.

Bill floated to a window overlooking the underworld, cooling down, but still furious. “We were so close, we tripped at the finish line, WHY?! All cuz that worthless conartist had to teach that twerp a thing or t-...”

The doors crumbled at the punch of the young hero, accompanied by his little tour-guide, Pacifica, who scowled at the demon with a gleam in her eye. “Where’s Stan?” Dipper growled.

Bill smiled at his visitors. “Ah, Pinetree and Llama, underworld’s a great place for a date, isn’t it?”

“Let him go.” Dipper demanded, charging at the demon and grabbing him by his stupid black toga.

Bill rolled his eye and plucked the human’s hands off him. “Get a grip, kid. Here, lemme show you around. C’mon.” And he had a hand on Dipper’s shoulder and walked with him out of Bill’s study, with Pacifica and Gideon curiously following them.

Bill took Dipper to a river of green death, with hundreds of thousands of souls swimming around. Towards the top, was Stan. Peacefully sleeping in his armor and cape, his soul torn and war-worn, but there he was.

“Stan!” Dipper called and reached for him, but the green liquid made his hands burn and age.

“Ah ah, you can look but you can’t touch.” Bill laughed. “You see, Stan’s got a new place here. He’s gonna be in this river, floating for eternity.”

Dipper did some quick thinking, watching Stan float farther away, and an idea came to him and he glared at Bill. “You like making deals. Take me in Stan’s place.”

“Hm.” Bill poked his face as he mockingly gave it some thought. “The great-nephew of my hated rival trapped forever in a river of death.”

“Going once…”

“In exchange for an old man who’ll probably die again next week.”

“Going twice…”

“Okay!” Bill interrupted. “Okay, okay, okay. If you can get him out, he can go, but you have to stay. Good luck, hero.”

Dipper looked back at the river he could easily step into. Stan was farther away now, almost around a riverbend, so the brave young man took in a deep breath and cannon-balled into the River of Death and swam for his uncle’s soul.

“Oh, you know what slipped my mind, you’ll be dead before you can get to him.” Bill called after him. “That’s not a problem, is it?” He cackled.

Dipper knew Stan was right, but if this would give Ford and Mabel a chance to be with him, if only for a short amount of time, so be it. Twins shouldn’t be separated forever.

The instant he jumped in, Dipper began dying rapidly. Not even aging, having a moment’s peace of being in his thirties, forties and fifties. His body seemed to instantly jump to his sixties and then slowly crawl upward. Stan was still so far away, but Dipper kept pushing, thinking of his family crying over Stan’s body. He had to do this. This had to work. Now aged to a hundred-year-old man, frail and at the brink of death, he reached for his uncle’s hand, just as they turned a corner on the river, hidden by a cavern.

Bill grinned at his victory, but his joy was short lived. Bright golden light shined. Bill’s eye was wide with horror and he watched as a true hero walked on the River of Death, carrying his trainer in his arms. “This… This is impossible! You can’t be alive, you’d have to be…”

“A god?” Pacifica and Gideon asked.

Bill roared in fury as he turned red, small and child-like as he kicked and screamed in the air.

Dipper’s skin now glowed golden, like his great-uncle and twin sister. He was sure and determined, clever, and healthy and youthful. And though he was grateful to have his godhood restored, he was still focused on getting his family together.

“Dipper, stop! You can’t do this, you can’t…” And Dipper punched Bill so hard in the face that his eye fell inward into his triangle body.

Bill recovered shortly, popping his eye back into place and chuckling nervously as Dipper walked away. “Okay, I deserved that. Pinetree, can we talk? Your uncle, Sixer, he’s a fun guy! Y’know, m-maybe you can put in a good word with him and we can just blow this whole thing off, huh?” Not seeing any reassurance, Bill went for his last desperate attempt to save his bricks. “Eh, Stan. Stanie, c’mon, talk to your kid.” And he cupped the soul’s cheeks.

At that, Dipper lost his patience and punched him so hard that Bill flew right into the river. Souls instantly latched onto him, and at his annoyance, he was dragged into the depths of death.

“Oh, he’s not gonna be happy when he gets outta there.” Gideon fretted at the edge of the river.

“You mean,” Pacifica gently elbowed her old working buddy and asked slyly, “If he gets out of there.”

Gideon lit up and grinned. “If… If is good.”

“You know,” Dipper said coolly, and the two looked at him. “I think this place is gonna need a new ruler of the underworld. But I think it should be someone who knows just how important life is, so death becomes more comforting.”

Gideon gasped and had an idea, so excited about it he swatted Pacifica’s arm and yelled, “OH! Oh oh oh oh OH! C’mon, c’mon!” And he dragged Pacifica to a special section of the underworld.

Dipper followed behind with Stan still in his arms and Gideon took them to the throne room. Years ago, Gideon watched Bill press a stone on the left side of the door to reveal where he kept a small amount of poison to turn gods mortal. Today, Gideon felt around for a stone on the right side of the door that could be pressed. After a few seconds, he found it, pressed, and a door opened to reveal a cave much like the last, except for oozing purple poison, a bottle of golden elixir awaited them.

“I knew it!” Gideon grabbed the bottle and held it out to Pacifica. “Here! Take it! Be the new god of the underworld!”

“What?!” Pacifica pushed the outstretched bottle back. “No, not me…”

“I think you should.” Dipper reassured. “You helped save my family twice today. You helped those kids. You clearly value life the way you should. I think you’d make a great goddess.”

“And I’ll be there to help you!” Gideon volunteered. “I know a lot about this place, I just… erm, let’s just say I’ve proven to be an awful boss in the past, k’?”

Pacifica played with her hair nervously, still unsure, but the smile from her friends was just enough, and so she snatched the bottle and took a swing before she could change her mind.

~~~~~~~~~~

Dipper carefully walked back to Thebes with Stan’s soul in his arms. He was reminded of so many times when Stan would pick him up from the dining table full of work and take him to bed. Stan had been his family for so long, that to know they were blood was actually very exciting. On top of which, if Dipper understood the rumors correctly, Stan was once a god, ubt lost his godhood, too. If Dipper can get his back, there must be a way to get Stan’s back. Even if he was a god now, Dipper was determined not to leave Stan’s side until he also earned his godhood. Family sticks together.

Mabel and Ford were still holding onto Stan, just as Dipper left them. Mabel was the first to notice the footsteps, to look up, and to gasp at not only Stan’s soul, but the fact that Dipper glowed like gold, like she and Ford did. She squeezed Ford’s shoulder and he finally took notice, gasping at his nephew.

Mabel scooted back a little bit to give Dipper some space, but Ford refused to let Stan go. He merely loosened his hold so Dipper could gently place the soul down onto the body, and then they waited with Dipper on one knee and Mabel scooting closer again.

It only took a moment. Stan took in a deep breath and let it out far easier than he had in years, and his color returned far brighter than before. Dipper gasped at how he sparkled and shined, and Ford and Mabel grinned to know their hope was proven correct.

Stan blinked once or twice, confused, but beyond amazed to see his entire family surrounding him. He quickly noticed the tears and sat up a bit, concerned, “Whoa, hey, is this an audience or a mosaic?”

“STANLEY!” Ford cried out and threw himself into his brother so hard they both fell into the ground, but neither cared. Stan chuckled nervously and tightly hugged his twin while Ford began to cry again. “St-Stanley! I’m sorry! I’m so, so sorry! I should’ve…”

“Aw, c’mon, Sixer,” Stan rubbed his shaking back. “It’s okay, it all worked out.”

“I almost lost you…”

“Well, you didn’t.” Stan loosened his grasp to better look at his nephew, and Ford turned to grin proudly at him as well. “Thanks to that knucklehead. HEY! Wait a minute! You jumped into the River of Death?! That was stupid, don’t you dare lemme catch you risking your life for mine, kid! I’m old! I go first!”

Dipper laughed and gestured to Stan. “That’s never gonna happen.”

Stan looked down at himself and flexed his arms and hands, his eyes wide. “Whoa hey! Kid, you did it!” He looked back up at Dipper, finally noticing that he was also glowing, and he jumped to his feet and cheered. “YOU DID IT! You’re a true hero! I trained a true hero! We’re gods again!”

Mabel jumped into Dipper’s arms and hugged him. “I’m so proud of you guys! I KNEW you could do it!”

Ford chuckled warmly and helped his twin up to his feet. “Come, let us go home.”

Mabel whistled and Gompers lowered himself so the family of gods could ride the giant goat back to Olympus.

At the mountain top, just inside the newly repaired gates, the gods and goddess awaited to congratulate the newcomers. Fiddleford blew his trumpet loudly with joy; Hazel, the goddess of spring, tossed flowers every which way; Jackie, the goddess of Summer and Romance, winked at Stan, who ran a hand over his gray hair and threw her a sly smile; Pacifica and Gideon were there, too, Pacifica glowing a peaceful light-blue color to go with her white tiara and baby-blue dress with white sash. Dipper couldn’t help but smile at Pacifica; maybe someday she could earn his trust.

The gods entered their new home and Mabel caught something happening to the night sky. She gently elbowed her brother and pointed up to the sky, and their uncles also looked upward. The Faiths had manipulated the cosmos to tell the new story, and they all watched as the stars formed into the shape of a dipper, the exact same shape on Dipper’s forehead. Beside the new constellation, a shooting star graced the dark inky sky.

“Hey, that’s Stan’s boy!” Hephzie, the goddess of autumn and harvest pointed out.

Stan blinked his eyes dry and let Mabel hug him around the neck from behind, patting her hands. Ford put a hand on his left shoulder, and Stan pulled Dipper into a soft noogie. Together, the loving family watched the beautiful sky.

Just remember, in the darkest hour, Within your heart's the power For making you A hero too!

So don't lose hope when you're forlorn! Just keep your eyes upon the skies! Ev'ry night a star is, Right in sight a star is, Burning bright a star is born!

#GF #gravity falls au #fanfiction #hercules #dipper pines #mabel pines #grunkle ford #grunkle stan #death #just kidding #stangst #happy ending #gift #Thanks for reading! #seriously thank you all!!! #I hope you liked it!

[potatocrab]

the right way

It’s New Years Eve, 2279. Butch finally thinks it’s time to pop the big question. 

Butch DeLoria x Rosie Sheridan (Lone Wanderer)

2810 words | [read on Ao3]

Butch couldn’t sleep. Not for the lack of trying, especially after an eventful night ringing in the New Year—heck, a new decade. It was well past midnight now, which meant he and everybody else in the Capital Wasteland was well on their way into 2280 and whatever it had to offer. Terrifying and exhilarating when he really thought about it, which was probably why he couldn’t settle down for the night.

Or maybe he was still too tipsy from the champagne Gob had served from the private reserves, mind heavy and clouded with a flurry of thoughts. No—if that were the case, he’d be blissfully passed out and curled around a pillow just as Rosie was, all giddy and giggly from one glass that she only agreed to because it was a special occasion.

They’d barely shared their midnight kiss beneath the fireworks display before she was teetering in his arms, flashing a lopsided grin and whispering about creating a show of their own. And a show it was—Rosie crawling into their bed after discarding her dress—only to fall asleep with her slip, tights and shoes still on. Butch wasn’t put out—quite the contrary—she was too damn adorable to be upset with.

He wasn’t about to disrupt her by leaving, risk the creaking metal floors of their Megaton homestead to find something to keep his mind occupied. Instead, he stayed right where he was, situating himself so he could watch her as she slept. It was something he found himself doing more of as of late, when she wasn’t snuggled up against his chest or curled against his body as the perfect little spoon. He couldn’t help but feel pensive, every stray thought focused on the future he was building with the woman beside him.

Now that their lives had slowed down—as much as it could, with Rosie being the Savior of the Wasteland—Butch had returned to thinking about settling down for real, more so than he used to in previous years. He’d thought about asking Rosie about ‘circlin’ up’ (as Moira put it) the previous year—had almost blurted out what he wanted on his birthday before realizing maybe he needed to tell her he loved her first. Plus, even skirting the topic seemed to send Rosie into a panic—he was sure a real proposal could result in a stroke—or broken nose number four.

Their relationship progressed—strengthened through the destruction of the Enclave, the activation of Project Purity, and the takeover of Adams Air Force Base. They said I love you more often than not, had regular date-nights, and were equally insatiable when it came to sex (Butch always knew it was the quiet ones). Even so, he spent nearly all of 2279 swimming in self-doubt, feeling not unlike how he did years ago when they were first starting out—back when he’d first kissed her in Rivet City.

Simpler times.

Instead of stressing about if she’d be journaling about his prowess at making-out, or if she liked him—liked him, he was tugging his hair out and pacing the town’s walkways, worrying about if she’d agree to marry him if he dared to ask. Butch had plans to pop the question at Christmas—but had chickened out when everything he’d meticulously set up suddenly felt overdone and too cheesy—even for him. New Year’s Eve seemed like the perfect opportunity, and he even thought about proposing right in the middle of Gob’s Saloon, deciding at the last possible second that Rosie wouldn’t want a public display. He thought the ring might burn a hole through his jacket pocket, but it was still there when he took it off at the end of the night, now slung over the back of the nearby chair.

One day, he sighed to himself, reaching over to tug the covers over Rosie’s exposed shoulder as she shifted. He trailed his fingers up, softly combing through her dark hair before resting his hand as gently as he could against her cheek. A tiny smile pulled at her lips, the smallest hum echoing from her throat as she titled her chin against his touch.

“Can’t sleep?” she mumbled, startling him slightly. He hadn’t meant to wake her up.

One, groggy, blue eye peeked open at him before she blinked the sleep from her vision, yawning in the cute little way she always did—curling up into a shell before stretching out like those cats they saw in the Commonwealth. After all this time, it still easily riled him up. It was oh so tempting to snatch her up in his arms, straddle her body and pepper her face and neck with kisses. But his brain froze, words stuck on his tongue as he continued to stare at her, Rosie looking back at him with the sweetest expression. That was the face he wanted to see every morning for the rest of his life until he got old and died.

“Hey,” he finally said, brushing his thumb across her cheek, down towards her mouth.

She went still, scooting herself closer as her eyes slowly closed shut. Butch kissed her, slowly and gingerly, wanting to savor the moment in case his next move blew up in his face. When he pulled away, Rosie floated back with him, a little pout on her lips as if she was anticipating more.

He couldn’t help but smirk. “Stay put, gorgeous.”

“Where are you going?” she asked, the flattery doing nothing to subside her tendency to fret. Rosie always was one for paranoia. Butch affectionately stroked his fingers through her hair, kissing the corner of her mouth, her nose and the worrying crease in her forehead before pulling away.

“Lemme’ grab somethin’”

“You don’t need a—”

Butch cut her off with another kiss, wanting to laugh at where her mind was in comparison to his. How the tables had turned. Yeah, he didn’t need to be reminded about the birth control implant Doctor Li had helped her obtain. Goodbye, Vault-Tech condoms—questionably effective anyways, with how old they were and…he was getting off track. Focus, man, focus—hard to do when Rosie was pulling him back, drifting hands touching him in places he desperately wanted to be touched.

He pulled away from her with a sharp inhale, surprising her. “Woman, you are makin’ this way harder than I want it to be.”

Rosie scrunched up her face, utterly confused. “I—isn’t that the point of an erection?”

Butch blanched at her terminology, unable to find humor in the situation while it was at his expense. He groaned, turning his head into the pillow to avoid her curious stare. He couldn’t be mad at her, but damn if he didn’t feel like he’d just lost another opportunity—it almost felt on the verge of being perfect. Well, as perfect as a Wasteland proposal could get, especially coming from someone like him. He knew Rosie was the woman of his dreams, but he had a hard time believing she felt the same, even after all this time, even as she reached out to him to hold him in that moment.  

“Butch?” her lips were soft as she kissed his cheek. She hooked an arm around his waist, feet cold through her tights as they slid through to tangle with his legs. “What is it?”

“Nothin’” he answered, voice muffled into the pillow.

“Not nothin’” she mimicked his tone, coaxing him to look at her. Even in the twilight of their room, the brightness of her eyes were easy to see, slowly relaxing him and reminding him of his earlier decision. Rosie’s lips curled up into a small, encouraging smile. “Are you going to tell me?”

Butch gulped down the bundle of anxiety fluttering in his chest and stomach. “Sure ya’ wanna know?”

She nodded, excitement flashing across her features. He hoped that would still be there in a few minutes. Slowly, he detangled from her, silently reassuring her as he’d done before. “Be right back.”

Maybe it was a good thing that without her glasses, Rosie couldn’t see what he was doing. Even so, Butch made sure to hide the ring in his palm, ensuring the silver band and stones in the cutout didn’t gleam in the moonlight. His heart was in his throat, but there wasn’t a good enough lie he could come up with on the spot to get out of what he’d set himself up to do. It was now or never.

“What is it?” Rosie asked again, squinting up at him as he re-approached, her curiosity rising as she glanced down to his fisted hand. There was a subtle, barely-there shift in her expression that made it obvious she had finally clued onto his intentions and moved to sit up, clutching the sheets to her chest as she stared at him with wide, bright blue eyes.  

Butch hesitantly sat down on the edge of the mattress, scooting himself closer to her when she didn’t flinch away. He reached out for her left hand, letting out the breath he’d been holding when she let him take it, brushing over her knuckles with his thumb. He took another steadying breath, swallowing down the bunch of nerves in his throat—no doubt she could hear how loud his heart was pounding in his chest. Okay, even the voice in his head struggled to give him a proper pep-talk. Just…open your hand and—

“I was thinkin’…” he twisted his lips to the side—that’s not how he wanted to start. Marriage proposals were supposed to be romantic, grand gestures with dramatic declarations of love. Right? Right. Better place to start. “Ya’ know I love you, right, Rosie baby?”

“Y—yes,” she nodded, trembling slightly in his grasp. It did nothing to calm him down, wondering if all he was doing was scaring her. As if she noticed his apprehension, she clutched tighter to his hand, silently encouraging him to continue—so he did.

Slowly he revealed the treasured item resting in his palm, raising it up near her face so it was easier for her to see. Almost immediately there were tears in her eyes, and she sharply inhaled with a gasp that turned into a sob. Even if she might have guessed, the reality of the situation still stunned her senseless. Butch quickly reached up to wipe at the tears that rolled down her cheeks. Rosie seemed alarmed by her own reaction, lips trembling as she tried to say something.

“Hey, hey, I—I’m sorry Rosie,” he pleaded, holding onto the ring as he brought her into a hug, tucking her close to his chest. “I shouldn’t’ve done somethin’ stupid like that, huh?”

She sniffled into the crook of his neck, shaking her head as her hands bunched into the fabric of his shirt. “N—no.”

Butch’s heart sank to the pit of his stomach—why’d he think this would be a good idea? Fuck. What a great way to start the new year—decade. He really was a chump—Rosie didn’t deserve him—clearly didn’t want to be with him forever like he wanted. He tried to pull away, but she kept him planted firmly where he sat. When he glanced down, she was titling her head back to stare up at him, nervously biting her bottom lip.

“I mean—” she paused, pulling away a little more so she could look at him more easily. “I mean, it’s okay.”

What? Butch closed his eyes for a few seconds to reset his brain. Was she saying what he thought she was saying? He felt her hand, soft as ever, press against his cheek—fingers threading through the hair at the base of his neck. A simple touch—but it was just what he needed to calm his nerves. He fluttered open his eyes, darting his gaze from her face to his hands where he held the ring in his fingers. Rosie looked too, the glimmer in her eyes something he’d never seen before.

“Where did you…” she whispered. “How long have you…?” she breathed out a short, nervous laugh, smiling as her hand slid from his face to press against his chest. With his free hand he kept it there, if only so she could feel the rhythm of his erratically beating heart.

Butch mirrored her lopsided grin. “’Nother keepsake from the vault,” he explained, noting her surprise. “My ma’ gave it to me years ago, in one of her rare moments of clarity.”

“Told me to save it, not give it away to any floozy,” he continued, earning a wider smile from Rosie even as he felt a flush creep up his neck and cheeks. “Had it all this time, ya’ know? Always meant to give it to my best gal, when I found her.”

He pulled her hand away from his chest and brought the ring closer, poised to place it where it belonged if she said yes. God he hoped she said yes. Otherwise—well, Butch figured he might as well drown in the radiated waters surrounding the Megaton bomb. Better than heartbreak, right?

“Always thought maybe she’d be happy I was givin’ it to you,” he gave a little shrug, meeting her eyes. He felt brave enough to say the rest. “Your old man too.”

Rosie’s eyes were glossed over with tears again, and for a moment, he panicked. “I—I mean, I ain’t assumin’,” he gulped, shaking his head. “Only if you want—”

Butch groaned, pulling his hand away to drag down in face in agony. “Damnit, I’m not doin’ this right at all.”

“Is there a right way?” she questioned, pulling at his fingers as she scooted closer. “You haven’t asked.”

Duh. Of course. He peeked open his eyes, finding her looking at him with an expectant expression. Maybe he needed to start from the top—again.

“I love you Rosie,” he smiled at how freeing it was to admit, and how it made his heart warm each time he spoke the words like it was the first time. “I’ve been wantin’ to do this for a long time but the timin’ never seemed right, ya’ know? I wanna be with you, wherever you are, whatever you’re doin’.”

He held her hand tightly again, as if to ground himself to the mattress and give himself the strength to keep speaking. “I wanna be your husband, be a family—”

There were those tears again, rolling down her cheeks—confusing when paired with the bright smile pulling at her lips. Butch furrowed his brows, tilting his head to the side. “Did I—say something wrong again because--”

She let out a soft laugh before interrupting him with a kiss. So he didn’t say something wrong—maybe. This was officially the most confused Butch had ever felt in his entire life. Rosie pulled away, using one of her hands to wipe at her face as she half-laughed, half-cried, shaking her head the entire time.

“You—you still haven’t asked,” she said.

All that, and he hadn’t managed the most important part. Butch ignored the urge to mentally berate himself for his stupidity or to launch himself from the bed and give himself a concussion, nearly blurting, “Marry me?”

Rosie was kissing him again before the full question was out in the open, grinning against his mouth as she embraced him. Butch nearly dropped the ring into the tangle of sheets, nearly got swept up in the thrill of what it was to be kissing the woman he loved.

“’Preciate the enthusiasm, babe,” he mumbled, barely managing to break away. “Would like it—love it—more with an answer.”

Rosie was practically glowing, like a beam of energy had been directly injected into her soul. True to her nature, she had a very simple answer, “yes.”

Butch didn’t waste any time in sliding the silver band onto her left ring finger, brushing his thumb over the stone—it was finally where it belonged. Rosie shuffled even closer into his lap, sniffling away the last of her tears.  

“Why all the cryin’, Rosie baby?” he quietly chuckled, pressing kisses across her cheeks and nose.

Rosie laughed, her arms around his neck tightening to keep him close. “I was—am—overwhelmed with emotion. You’re lucky I didn’t faint from shock.”

“The night isn’t over,” he retorted, smirking as he heard her tiny, delighted gasp. “Got some celebrating to do, don’t ya’ think?”

“I’d say so,” she answered with a bashful smile. “Future husband.”

Butch hadn’t expected the word to have such an effect on him, but all he wanted was to hear her repeat the term over and over again until it was burned into his brain. Rosie’s husband. He grinned, kissing her greedily.  

“Future wife.”

#fallout 3 #butch deloria x f!lone wanderer #butch deloria #rosie sheridan #rosie sheridan fics #the implication that butch has been wanting to propose for 20 months makes me feel things #classic butch in his feelings inner monologue #;_____; #crow gif FTW

[goliath-de-senfina-sango]

Ghost Nip

AO3

Were anyone ever to ask Danny Phantom if he’d done drugs, he would ask if being prescribed ADHD meds counted as doing drugs.   When they said no, he’d tell them no.  If asked what he knew about ghostly herbs he’d tell them he only knew about one ghost-related nonsapient plant and it wasn’t a fun one.   He now had to change those answers to ‘not willingly’ and ‘something between weed and catnip’.

At the moment, Danny was soaring through Amity’s skies faster than he’d ever gone in his life, slowing down at random intervals and giggling at just how funny everything had become.   He chatted with birds and chased after squirrels to pet them, informing any passerby who stopped to say hi that they looked a lovely shade of blellow or grik or touroon.  Humans did not understand these colors or their auras and Danny couldn’t explain them quite well but they were there and so pretty.

And then he saw Technus, Nicolai Technus, self-proclaimed master of technology and Danny zoomed into his personal space.  “Child!  What are you-“

“Did you know, Nicolai, that the stars and planets and oceans and galaxies are as alive as you or I?”  Danny spoke both with his mouth and with flares and flickers of power and light and heat and cold, a language built on energy frequencies that he did not know but that he knew more than any mortal tongue.  “That they speak and sing with different languages?  I find that interesting.  I can hear them now but they’re so Much I can’t fully understand them.”

“Phantom what are you talking about?”  Technus floated back, waving a hand in the air, frowning.  That wasn’t good, he should be smiling!  Today was a fun day!  “Are you high?  Is that Ghost Nip, ghost child?”

“DID YOU KNOW NICOLAI TECHNUS POINDEXTER that the stars sing?”  Technus flinched and Danny wondered at that, felt and saw as the older ghost charged up a ball of plasma, sparking and arcing and dancing with electricity, to strike him with.  Danny, in turn, tossed the crushed petals that he had put into his pocket at some point in the future or present in Nicolai’s face.  He coughed and spluttered, aura flickering through shades of emotion that he rarely acknowledged, feelings that Nicolai had forsaken at some point if Danny remembered correctly.  “You are a soul filled with the power of the Infinite Realms, Nicolai, why would you deny your feelings?  Without your emotions, you cannot feel the joy of helping people, the satisfaction of making something useful, the pride that others enjoy your work and incorporate it into their lives.  And regardless of whether you resent your emotions, surely you realize that this too is a feeling?”

“I-you-you have a point, child.”  He spoke in radio signals and electrical pulses now, and Danny returned them in kind with elation at the sign that his enemy was now far more cheerful than when he spoke knowledge that hadn’t yet been shared with him, but it had been shared with someone and they would tell him and so he knew for time was a funny thing that slipped and slid around in space with the tug and pulls of gravity.  “And what would you suggest I do?  The humans do not respond to Ghost Nip the way we do.”

“No, but they respond well to progress and positive change and they need so much power yet so few of them use the power that the day star offers, constant and steady and ringing with their song.  Do you think you can help me?  I can’t speak the language of the stars just yet, but technology can translate many  things into a sense that we can follow, can’t it?”

They chatted amicably until the Red Huntress came upon them and Technus waved at her before pixelating into so many electrical signals dancing through the sky and flew off to bring waves of upgrades to technology all over the town.  And Danny waved at Valerie himself, flickers and flares of gravity and light like a star might give off deflecting the plasma she launched at him in her own hostile greeting.  “Hi Valerie,” he said but didn’t say, his voice reaching the speakers in her suit meant to relay calls from Vlad but instead responding to him because all the energy came from the stars, didn’t it?  And the suit had taken her to space, oh, that would be fun to do again, wouldn’t it?

Danny waved Valerie goodbye and flew off, bending the starlight around his fingers and weaving images and paintings of himself all around her so that she could at least see him.  Valerie didn’t like Danny, his presence angered her, made her red aura darken to something bloody and Danny didn’t like that.  So, he flew off to where he felt the tug of misfortune and negative chaos and luck turned upside down.  He found Johnny and Kitty having a picnic in the park and lingered over some buzzing beetles in the grass, his core buzzing in response though the beetles didn’t seem to hear him.  Or maybe they only understood him as much as he did the quasars in the sky?  “JOhnny!  Kitty!  Hi hi hi, how are you?  You look like you’re having fun, are you having fun?”

The two gave Danny a bemused look, Johnny’s shadow rising up like ink rippling with waves of cold, icy, burning flames that stole heat instead of giving it away.  He smiled at them, wider than a human face could accommodate, and they snickered and laughed. “Uh, yeah little man.  Just out for some fun on a date.  Are you baked, little guy?”

“Clay was once baked in the sun to make the older bricks, I basked in the sun’s light and felt it dancing over my skin before it sank into me and-”

“Oh my god,” Kitty said with a high laugh that had Danny floating a bit further from the ground as he orbited them.  “He’s definitely high.  Lemme guess, someone showed you some Ghost Nip?”

Danny dug another petal from his pocket and crushed it in his hand, tossing a shower of the dust onto his two friends, because they were happy to see him so clearly they were friends now, weren’t they?  “The prettiest flower, it smells so nice.  Is that what it’s called?”  He stared at Johnny and hummed, and reached out beyond his body and he saw and tugged on the strings and laughed.  “Johnny, come with me, I’m sure she wants to see you again!”  Before Kitty can ask who ‘she’ is, Danny pulls Johnny with him into the sky, and Kitty follows, and Johnny snorts and laughs and whispers to him in a way that echoes in the wind where empty space lies hidden and bubbles with probability.  They are at the Manson Mansion faster than Danny expected but he’s so energized at this point that he hardly knows that when he and Johnny dive into the house and Danny watches as the tug on the strings around Johnny’s soul pull him along and guide him faster than Danny or Kitty.  And they arrive and they see Ida, bowling in her alley, and Danny cheers for her and his voice bounces off the walls, comes through the many speakers and flickers across screens.  “Hi, miss Manson!  I brought Johnny!”

“... Johnny?”  Ida turned and her aura flickered wildly, it was a rainbow, a kaleidoscope, but Danny saw the gamule in it and bounced in the air.  Happy tears shined in her eyes and Johnny slowly, carefully descended to the ground and wrapped his arms around her.

“Mom?”

Danny left with a proud nod, satisfied that he had helped, and flew off to find others to help, there was always someone to help, wasn’t there?

 Dash Baxter was afraid of very few things, but the hostile nerd ghost levitating a bunch of pencils pointed at him and his fellow jocks like arrows was certainly a contender.  He and the boys were at practice and one of the AV club geeks had passed by while they were wrapping up so Dash decided to have a little fun with the freak. He didn’t expect Poindexter to fuckin pop out of the ground and summon all the pencils and pens from inside the school to him and start ranting about bullies.  The guy screamed nerd from every facet of his appearance except for the glowing red eyes and Dash wanted to say something witty but all that really came out was, “fuck off you bucktoothed weirdo!  We’re just havin some fun.”

Dash’s late grandfather always did call him an idiot and Dale smacking him upside the head with a hiss of the same confirmed this.  After all, Phantom was nowhere in sight and saying that just made the ghost go red and flickery with rage.  This is how I die.  A fuckin nerd is gonna kill me.

Pencils flew at the team and Dash braced for the impact that never came as green, silver, gold and blue light wrapped around them in a dome and stopped the pencils like they were nerf darts.  Danny Phantom floated down between them and the ghost and Dash relaxed. Though, Phantom looked… off.  His hair was more like mist now, and his suit looked less like the goofy hazmat that the Fenton Freaks wore and more like an astronaut’s spacesuit.  He looked sorta like he was on fire, and sorta like he was surrounded by icy mist or both.  “Sidney!  Did you know that Nicolai is here?”  Who the fuck is Nicholai?

Poindexter clearly knew, though, and was shocked out of his supernatural rampage.  He stared at Phantom with wide eyes.  “I- no I didn’t.  Nicolai is alive?  Wait, Phantom, what the heck is up with your… everything?”

Phantom pulled out what looked like a flower petal with fifty different colors swirling around it, which didn’t make sense since there were only so many colors, but ghosts never made any sense.  He crushed it into powder between his hands while talking. “I found this neat pretty flower somewhere in the Infinite Realms, though I don’t remember where I found it, but I do know that it smells so so happy!  HEre, smell it!”  and then Phantom tossed dust at the guy, and dropped his shield around the team.

“Dude… Phantom’s fuckin high,” Chris whispered, and Dash’s eyes widened.

“Holy shit, ghosts can get high?”

“And no, sadly Nicolai isn’t the same alive as those guys behind me, but he’s the kind of alive that you and I are!  We’re technically alive, though Dad doesn’t agree, but he hasn’t met his uncles yet and I’m sure if he knew how much family was still alive on our side of the Ṕ̡̡o͢r̨t͞a̴̛l̨͡,” Dash had no idea what the fuck Phantom just said but apparently he was related to some ghost?  Kwan had his phone out now and was recording the conversation.  “Sidney Poindexter, Nicolai Poindexter, you’re both really smart, but Nicolai calls himself Technus now but he’s helping people today!”

Poindexter opened his mouth, and Dash’s head hurt.  He wasn’t making a sound that Dash could figure out but there was a pressure in his skull until that silver light that Phantom’s shield had earlier wrapped around him and the rest of them.  Some of the guys ran off, not wanting to be in the line of fire when the fight started, but if Phantom just tossed ghost weed onto the nerd then maybe he’d be too chill to try and kill them.

“Exactly!  You told me years from now about your little sister that you miss and grandma’s still the alive you were hoping for, with Nicolai, promise!  You’re technically my great uncle then, aren’t you?”

“Holy shit, Phantom’s related to Poindexter?”  Both ghosts’ attention snapped toward him in a tangible way and Dash wished he’d kept his big mouth shut.  Phantom’s eyes were torches that obscured the rest of his face, and that fire that flickered around him whipped out all over the place now.  People weren’t usually violent when they were high, were they?

“Dashiel Baxter,” he said in the iciest tone Dash had ever heard from anyone.  “You’re a bad fan.  You’re clearly not paying attention to me when I told and help people and save people.” The accusation stung, one of those firey whips across his face, and how did he know that an invisible one made of emotion hadn’t hit him?  Ghosts were made of feelings and shit, weren’t they? “Why do you hurt people?  You know that’s not nice or cool or heroic of you, don’t you?  No one really likes a bully.  I sure don’t. I was bullied a lot as a kid.  It’s not fun for the kid being bullied.  I can’t understand why it’s fun for the bully.”

“I-” Dash was going to defend himself.  He wasn’t really hurting anyone, he was just messing around!  The nerds were fine.  They were alive, weren’t they?  But cold and heat and anger rooted into his veins and held his tongue and he shivered under the angry glare of his hero.

“You should stop bullying people.  It’s illegal, the things you do.  Someone will do something bout it eventually.  If not Sidney then someone still living the way you do.  They might do something about it legally.”  Phantom turned back to Poindexter and then to Dash, and he felt heavy as a mountain under that stare.  “For your sake, I hope it’s done legally.”

And then his eyes snapped off of Dash onto Dale’s hand, where a  green lantern ring sat and his eyes were still green flashlights that made it impossible to see the rest of face even inn the daylight, but those tendrils of ghost fire retreated into him and the air wasn’t frozen over anymore.  Dash could move, technically. Phantom turned back to Poindexter, who was speaking without speaking again, and Dash decided to book it himself before things got worse.

 Danny pulled Sydney along their strings to find Nicolai sweeping over a hospital and protective ire bubbled in his core, but a quick count told Danny that no one was becoming a ghost in there quite yet so he calmed himself.  “Ghost child!  The generators to the hospital now have a backup that draws on sunlight!  I… Sydney?”  Nicolai pulled his glasses up and stared, and Sydney stared and Danny grinned and bounced in the air and with inspiration from the Green Lantern, who was one of his favorite heroes but how could he not be he went to space and talked with aliens, and made a bright green lasso that he pulled Nicolai in closer to Sydney with.  They hugged.  There were tears and lots of babbling and cheer in the air that lit up the sky.

Then a net was on him and pain.  Danny convulsed in the air, screaming, and unlike his usual Wail his power carried through the sound in every direction and shook the ground.  A hand yanked the net off of him and Danny wrapped Nicolai in a hug, before turning his head around to spot Skulker glaring at them all. “Technus what the hell are you doing?  The boy is intoxicated and vulnerable!  I had him!”

“You’ll have no one and nothing if you don’t back the hell off of my great-nephew you diminutive little frog!”  Technus was angry, and sparks danced at his fingertips, ready to snap out and strike.  But Skulker also hummed with electricity and his suit exposed missiles that Dany couldn’t let him fire so close to the hospital. No no no.

“Oh great,” Skulker grumbled.  “He’s gotten you high as well, has he?  What’s this talk of nephews, Technus, you told me you didn’t have any family.”

Technus held his hand out but Danny made swords and scythes and chains from the dancing sunlight and cut off Skulker’s rocket launchers, and his arm before binding him.  “He lied.  You’re a danger to the people here.  You’re cruel and a really shitty hunter and I wanted today to be a nice happy day, Skulker, so how bout you get the fuck out of my town?”  Paint was light, the brush was ectoplasm, and Danny drew for them a fox with three tails and six paws and flames licking its jaws that lunged at Skulker.  “Did you know that a group of foxes is called a Skulk?  Sam told me that.  Sam and Tucker are good friends.  Tucker is the best friend.  I’m gonna go find him now.  By uncle Sydney, uncle Nicolai!”

Danny couldn’t leave Skulker out like that though so he cast away his fox and pulled out his thermos and sucked in Skulker and his suit and then he was flying, and riding the fox and stroking its soft pretty fur.

 “I didn’t know he could purr,” Sam said, as though that were the important thing here.  She took a picture with her old camera and Tucker glared.  “Think any other ghosts purr when they’re high?”

“Can we discuss that after we get me untangled?”  Tucker tried to pry Danny’s arms and tail off of him, but to no avail.  Any amount of force he applied Danny could match, and if he pulled too hard, Danny just phased through his fingers and clung tighter.  “Why are yougods Stop that!”  Danny was now rubbing their cheeks together and looking at him wide eyes that were green where they should’ve been white and every color that did and didn’t exist on the visible spectrum filling the place of pupils and irises.  Looking at these particular puppy eyes was like gazing into a black hole and the Milky Way at once.  Sam was laughing at him.  “This isn’t funny.”

“It’s hilarious.  And kinda cute.  After all, it’s not every day you see two love birds cuddling in bed like a snake-cat hybrid.”

“We’re not lovebirds Sam, we’d kinda need to be infatuated with each other at minimum.”  Tucker sighed, resigned to his fate, and patted Danny’s cloudy hair.  He purred three times louder and warmth seeped into him from every point of contact.  “What’s the flower?”

“According to the latest Viewtube video Kwan posted of Danny roasting Dash?  Some variant of weed.” Sam looked Danny up and down and snorted.  “He’s covered in dust so he’ll probably be like that for a while.”

Sam needn’t know how ok with that Tucker was feeling.  He could see in her smirk that she knew anyway but he could deny it!  Though, with all this cuddling, he wasn’t sure he wanted to.  Sam petted the fox curled around her and Tucker rolled his eyes at her cooing.  “I see the Naruto phase never wore off.”

“Shut it furry.”

“Why should I, weeb?”

“It’d be awful if that oh so precious bow of yours lost its string, now wouldn’t it?”  Tucker huffed and sank into Danny’s embrace with a grumble.  “That’s what I thought.”

#Danny Phantom #Danny Fenton #Nicolai Technus #Valerie Gray #Sidney Poindexter #Dash Baxter #Johnny 13 #Kitty #Ida Manson #Sam Manson #Tucker Foley #Skulker #Phantom Family Au #fanfiction #Rexy Writes

[shapeshiftinterest]

mao mao fanfiction prompts: knight au version 1, Your Knight CH 1

knight mao x king badgerclops 

mini mao x prince BC for this chapter

the first time they meet, badgerclops gets hit in the face with a wooden sword and mao mao is totally, absolutely, definitely not crying behind a tree

story under the read more

Your Knight (also on ao3)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Mao sat in the shade behind a large tree in the palace courtyard, his back against the trunk. He sniffled, stifling a hiccup as he rubbed his eyes with one of his wrists. 

Stupid sisters, stupid dad, stupid bring your kid to work day! 

...

Stupid Mao Mao.

His face scrunched, throat closing up a little as a quiet whine slipped out. 

NO! He was a big boy, and big boys weren’t supposed to feel sad when their older sisters made fun of their training results. 

O-or when their dad held onto their backpack while they went to the bathroom but wasn’t there when they got out, leaving him with no snackies. 

Or when... when they got lost, at the training grounds. And all the other kids there either ignored them or called them weird and none of them would help him find his sisters.

Mao buried his face in his arms and muffled an unhappy scream. Usually this wasn’t an issue but after all those things piling up he couldn’t help it.

He’d been looking forward to his first palace visit too!

The kitten stood up, turning around and hurling their wooden back up sword away as hard as they could.

THUNK!

“OW! What the heck?“

Uh oh.

Mao slowly opened one of his eyes. Another kid wearing a pink sunhat was sitting on the ground a few feet away and rubbing their head, Mao’s wooden sword lying next them.

Papers and drawing utensils were scattered everywhere. Mao moved to pick them up before the drawings could get too dirty. 

“I’m sorry! Lemme help-“ he froze, coming face to face with what could only be the cutest boy he’d ever seen, now that the hat wasn’t in the way. Oh, oh wow. 

‘He’s even prettier than Tanya.’ Mao thought, cheeks feeling warm.

Soft looking brown and white fur, complimented by pink sunhat, with a cool looking black eye patch looped over their left eye. 

Their right eye was a pretty blue color, and even though they were both crouching, he could tell the other was probably taller than he was. Mao really wanted to squish their cheeks.

Right now though, that ‘pretty blue eye’ was glaring at him. “What's your problem?“ the boy huffed, putting his hands on his hips.

Mao blinked, snapping out of his stupor. Quick! Say something heroic! 

“Huh?“ 

Nailed it.

The boy scowled, gesturing to his face. “You can’t just throw stuff wherever you want, man. You could’ve taken out my other eye!“

Mao’s ears fell back, tiny hands crumpling the drawings out of reflex. 

“I didn’t mean to...“

The other’s face scrunched up before softening, shoulders dropping. “Sorry, I’m just... having a really bad day today, y’know? My cousins are being total butts.”

Mao offered the papers he’d picked up and took the wooden sword from the boy. “Me too.“

“Really?“

“Yeah. The bad day part I mean. My dad left with my backpack and I can’t find my sisters anywhere.“

The cat leaned back to sit on the ground, hugging his knees as the other crossed their legs. 

“Plus! The other kids made fun of me for not having friends! I have friends! They- they’re just... not here today.“

“Riiiight“ his companion side eyed him.

Mao pouted. “I do have friends!! See?” He pulled out a photo of himself, Tanya, and Bao Bao from his overalls pocket. “Three! Whole! Friends!”

“One of them is you though?“ The boy pointed at the Mao in the picture.

“You better believe I love me like a friend.“ he said.

He was about to put it back when the other grabbed out of his hand.

“HEY!“ Mao pounced on him, knocking them over. He made a few grabs at the photo but the other kid had a hand on his shoulder.

“Wait, is that Tanya??“

Mao stopped struggling, “You know Tanya?”

“Yeah dude! Her dad works at the palace, she’s my friend too.“ They carefully handed the picture back. “She’s doing outside work with her dad though, and my other friend, Honey, lives in the neighboring kingdom with her mom.“

The two sat together in silence, both stewing over the fact that neither of their friends were around.

Mao’s head snapped up, eyes wide as he started to smile. He scooted closer to the other kid. “Wait a minute, what if we became friends?”

“Huh?“

“We’re both friends with Tanya but she’s not here, plus neither of us have our other friend to keep us company, but if we become friends we can hang out with each other!“

Mao was practically bouncing from how great his idea was. He’d get to make a new friend, and they were already friends with Tanya so he knew they were a good person!

“Oh wait, introductions. I’m Mao Mao, by the way. What’s your name?“ He asked, extending his paw for a handshake.

The taller boy stared up at him, stunned by his enthusiasm. 

“You can call me Badgerclops.” he said, shaking his hand with a grin. 

#my words #my fanfic #cartoons #mao mao heroes of pure heart #mao mao #badgerclops #badgermao #tanya keys #tanya #keys #shin mao #shin #mao #honey #bao bao #cats #badgers #tanuki #dogs #squirrels #animals #alternate universe

[miracle-sham]

Our Faces are Hidden Behind Masks of Glass.

| {Maribat 2k20 – Day 1: Late Night Discussions} |

| [Ao3 Link] | | [Masterlist Link] |

| Sometimes, when secret identities are revealed, you just need a cuppa tea and some reaffirmation—and maybe some cuddles too. |

| Word count: 1534. |

==–==

| A/N: So I really thought SCAB would be my first piece of writing posted on here/for Maribat but then I got mugged in a dark dank alleyway by the Maribat2k20 MariTim prompt calendar and stabbed by the knife of inspiration. So uh yeah enjoy. |

| If you want to be tagged in future oneshots/fics, or a specific Au, then send me a DM or an ask! |

| Also side note, Don't Like? Don't Read. Also please do not criticise any of my writing. This was written for fun and receiving criticism, even in a compliment/criticism sandwich, is the exact opposite of fun. |

==–==

 Heck-heck-heckity-heckles, Marinette chants in her head, desperately needing to find an empty alleyway that she can detransform in. She flicks her yo-yo towards a random skyscraper, and swings her way across the Gotham night skyline, scanning the streets below for somewhere that met her criteria.

 Just as her earrings bleep thrice to signal that she was down to two dots, she spots it, an empty alleyway not in plain view of any roads, or windows. There! She cheers internally, dropping down into the alleyway and whispering a “Tikki, spots off!”

 However, her relief at finding a place to detransform is short-lived, for as soon as the bright pink glow fades away, she's faced with the sight of Red Robin half changed into civvies, domino in one hand. Marinette stares at him in shock, and he stares back. Blinking blankly, she tries to wrap her mind around the fact that one of her "civilian" friends is actually a hero. A hero she's allies with, friends even.

 The two stand there for a solid minute as their brains reboot. Tim cocks his head to one side, gaze flickering between looking her up and down, and staring at her earrings. Marinette also cocking her head to one side but her gaze switches between his bare face and the domino in his hand.

 Once their brains finish rebooting, immediately the two blurt out the first thoughts to come to mind.

 “Tim... You're Red Robin?”–

 –“Wait, Marinette, you've been Ladybug this entire time?”

  Marinette swallowed, blinking back tears, suddenly very aware of how vulnerable she was in the open with her secret exposed and—oh god, Tim's the first person to know my identity bar Master Fu… This is the first time I've ever had my identity revealed and I didn't even get a choice—She manages to choke down a sob before spitting out, “I think we should take this somewhere more private.” The words burning her tongue with the acrid taste of fear.

 He nods sharply—almost more of a jerk than an actual nod. “I agree.”

 Neither makes an attempt to move, both still staring.

 “My place or yours?” She asks, hesitantly, half frowning.

 He nods again, more softly this time, “Mine, but lemme just um…” Gesturing towards the amalgamation that was half his Red Robin suit and half civvies as he speaks.

 Marinette's eyes widen in realisation, practically squeaking, she stutters. “Oh. Uh yeah, sorry!” She stiffly turns her back to him in an act of respect of privacy and cradles her face in her hands as her cheeks flush bright red from embarrassment. God, I'm never going to live this down, am I?

 After about a minute of stewing in her embarrassment, she hears Tim clears his throat from the other side of the Alleyway. “Okay, done.”

 She turns around to face him again, the blush has faded somewhat in the time passed but it's still very clearly noticeable. She can't help but glance at his civilian outfit. “Oh, er, nice?”

 He sort of just blinks at her, rather bemused. “Uh, thanks… I guess?”

 An awkward silence hangs over them as they shuffle and dance around each other on their way out of the alleyway. The walk to his theatre house is just as silent and awkward despite the hundreds of questions on each of their lips. A good thing then—Marinette supposes—that we didn't go to my place, I'm not sure I'd be able to handle an even longer awkward silence.

==–==

 They take the civilian route inside—also known as using the door like a sane person—because apparently, vigilantes will only use windows as entrances provided there are windows to enter and that the vigilantes in question are suited up. Tim spends a good thirty seconds opening his front door, deactivating a bunch of different security protocols most likely. The hallway and lounge lights were already on probably to try and deter potential robbers—the house is in Crime Alley after all—but once they enter said hallway, all the ceiling lights on the first floor switch on.

 Tim guides her to the sofa, which she perches on the edge of, facing the massive fish tank before disappearing into the kitchen. The sound of shuffling feet, cupboards and drawers opening, and the click of a kettle—or perhaps a coffee machine? She can't quite tell from this distance—are the only things to give away what he's doing in there. Marinette has no doubts that he's making the noise on purpose, he's a bat. But she's not quite sure if the noise is because he's comfortable here, or if it's because he's trying to make her feel more welcome?

 A minute later, Tim re-emerges with two teacups in hand. He gently lays both on a coffee table between the sofa and aquarium, one of the cups pushed towards her general direction. He plops himself down on the sofa as well, albeit leaving enough space between the two of them that a third person could sit there.

 She picks up the drink and peers at it, perplexed, for a second, question falling from her mouth before she can stop herself, “Earl Grey? With lemon?” I thought he was a coffee person?

 “Alfred.” Is his clipped response.

 She nods and 'oh's under her breath. That explains it. Marinette takes a sip and her eyes light up. “Oh wow! This is delicious!”

 Tim raises his eyebrows in amusement and snorts but doesn't comment. The conversation lulls again. They sip their tea in silence.

 When Marinette finishes her tea, she carefully puts the mug back down, with an audible clink, on the coffee table. She hesitates and the words Kagami once told her come unbidden to her mind. She grimaces, glances to Tim.

 He's watching her with that calculating gaze of his, however, it seems far more tumultuous in nature this evening. He's hiding his mouth behind his mug like another mask.

 Marinette leans back against the sofa and stares at his ceiling before idiomatically biting the bullet and physical biting her lips. “How long are we going to do this?”

 He freezes. “Do what?”

 She gestures vaguely in the air between the two of them. “This, tiptoe around the elephant in the room or I suppose in our case, the vigilantes in the room.”

 Her phrasing manages to bring a small smile to his face but not a second later it fades and he purses his lips.

 Solemnly, he gives her a once over. “So you're Ladybug then?”

 Marinette huffs. “And you're Red Robin.”

 “Does anyone else know that you're her then?”

 She turns her head away from him, “No, you're…” Her throat closes up and she's forced to blink back tears again. Barely holding back the sniffles, she chokes out the last few words. “You're the only other person to know.”—Not technically a lie, it's not like Master Fu remembers anything about the miraculous, let alone my identity.

 Tim deflates slightly, curling his shoulders inwards. “I wish you had told us before, we could have supported you. You shouldn't have had to deal with all that without help”

 “What? Like Batman didn't start off alone?” Marinette snaps back automatically, no real heat behind her words.

  “Batman's not exactly a pillar of good life decisions or emotional stability.” He retorts with a raised eyebrow.

 Sighing, she shakes her head and whines, “Tim…”

 “Marinette.” His lips twitch upwards like he's in on some joke she doesn't get, “On the bright side, now we know each other's identities, we can help each other on cases and patrols, or cover for the other in or out the masks.” He offers, sounding so calm and nonchalant.

 Marinette shuffles closer to him on the sofa. “That would be useful. I just. I.” She stutters, brain moving faster than her mouth.

 Tim grins ruefully. “You're worried I'm gonna tell the rest of the bats who you are, right?”

 She curls up instinctively. “Yeah…”

 “Don't worry, they're also detectives. If they can't work out your identity then why should I give them the answer?” He tries to joke but it falls flat.

 “The magic of the Miraculous stops people from making the connection between my two identities.” Marinette responds.

 “Ok, but what I'm trying to say is that I'm not going to give you away even if they ask.” He also shuffles closer to her and wraps an arm around her shoulders, pulling her towards him.

 “Thank you, Tim.”

 “No problem, Mari.”

 Marinette pauses. “So this won't affect our relationship in or out the mask, right? We're still friends?”

 “Of course! This doesn't change a thing.” Tim, emulating Dick, pulls her in for a hug, and if Marinette melts into his arms—well he's not going to say no to that, not when he's so touch starved.

==–==

 When Dick breaks into the house the next morning to check on Tim, seeing as he never checked out for the night nor did he return to the cave, he finds the two cuddled up together—fast asleep on the sofa. He nabs a spare blanket and pulls it over the two of them, snaps a pic to serve as evidence to Tim being okay, and then skedaddles before either can wake.

==–==

| Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little oneshot! Comments, likes, and reblogs are much appreciated! |

@maribat-2k20

#Miraculous Ladybug #ML x DC #DC x MLB #Maribat #Timinette #MariTim #Timari #Tim X Marinette #Marinette x Tim #Maribat2k20 #Maribat2k20 Tim x Marinette #Maribat2k20 Day 1 #Maribat 2k20 Late Night Discussions #Our Faces are Hidden Behind Masks of Glass #OFaHBMoG #Sham's Posts #Sham's Writing #Sham's Fics

[thewritewolf]

Nino’s Quest Chapter 7: Audience With the King

The party finally meets up with the King and they receive their next quest.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 (Final)

Enjoy!

Read on Ao3.  My ko-fi.

Direct Message From Alya

Alya: babe. Have you noticed anything… ...weird? With the babies

Nino: Our babies? Yeah M’s back to her usual with my bro And adrien is a blushy mess around her Crazy

Alya: Is this progress? It feels like a side step Or taking a step forward… ...and tripping on their face.

Nino: Well, if they could get comfortable around each other before…

Alya: Babe its WAY worse now than what it was before Now NEITHER of them are talking to each other God they’re frustrating

Nino: Did it have something to do with that last akuma? You said you saw them heading toward it before things got crazy

Alya: Maybe? BUT OMG THAT BATTLE

Nino: ??? What happened??

Alya: After they beat the akuma They got the hell away from each other Super pale No fist bump I posted pics on the ldb

Nino: Lemme check Wait Are they blushing?

Alya: gr8 Now i’m even more confused

Nino: lmao Your fleet of ships! It is sinking, babe

Alya: Don’t even JOKE about that! Ladynoir WILL set sail Marinette WILL get her hamsters with Adrien

Nino: lol Just teasin Let em figure stuff out on their own They’ll get there

Alya: I hope youre right…

Nino: Trust me, babe. I AM a master of romance

Alya: Yeah? Where’d you get those credentials, huh?

Nino: I got you, didn’t I?

Alya: … Smooth, cappy Very smooth

-------

Lord DM: Alright, my dudes, we have agreed that there WILL be dnd this weekend. The question is now… ...where the heck is it going to be.

Adrien Regreste: Definitely not at my place They are barely letting me out No way are they going to let me have friends over [crying cat face]

Alya’ll Beware: yeah and its not going to be any better at my place Esp with Nora back in town

Lord DM: What bout u, M?

Marinoodles: There is a big order at the bakery They don’t need my help BUT They DO need the extra space My place is out

Lord DM: Well dang Looks like i’ll have to bring out the big guns You guys can come over to my place

Adrien Regreste: [shocked emoji] I never thought I’d see the day…

Alya’ll Beware: lol, chill sunshine. Stay focused on the dnd

Lord DM: No no Let him bask Few mortals get this honor

Alya’ll Beware: [eye roll emoji]

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

Saturday arrived at long last, and Nino took stock of his preparations for the day. His little bro out with their parents. A stack of chip bags and pop and all the things that would make Adrien’s nutritionist twitch. Bean bag chairs for him and all his friends. Ambiance from tabletop audio. Everything had to be right - they were meeting with the Good King Haman, after all. It was one of the climaxes of the campaign.

Which was why he was worried when everyone finally got there.

Adrien had picked up everyone, of course, which might explain why he and Marinette were already a blushing mess. Nino glanced to Alya for clues, but all she had for him was a frown and a shrug.

The two of them sat opposite each other, with Alya opposite Nino. There was a pregnant silence where usually they would have their pre-session chat.

Nino considered himself a pretty empathetic kinda guy. It wasn’t that hard for him to get a feel for the room, or put himself in other people’s shoes. But even for him, his two friends were a stone wall. The only thing he could say for sure is that they weren’t angry with each other. Maybe just… scared. Which was weird, but hey - Dungeons and Dragons hadn’t let him down yet. Maybe it could help them now.

With that in mind, Nino started the session. “After spending the morning making yourselves look like you totally belong at court - with different amounts of success - you make your way to the royal castle. Looks like someone’s looking out for you, since the usually long line to see the king is super short today.”

“Finally, some kind of break,” Alya grumbled. “After bandits and assassins, at least we don’t have to wait in line.”

“After an hour, you finally find yourselves face to face with the King himself. While it is clear that he is no longer the adventuring knight of his youth, he’s still got the broad shoulders and strong arms of a fighter. His jeweled, golden crown rests easily atop his head. He watches you intently as you approach, a well groomed eyebrow raised as he takes in your martial appearance.”

Adrien furrowed his eyebrows. “Wait, we’re in armor and stuff?”

“Well,” Marinette responded, “we are adventurers. We should never be too far from our gear.”

Bowing his head in acquiescence, Adrien returned his attention to Nino.

“After you are declared, the King seems even more curious about you. He speaks with a clear, booming voice, one used to commanding armies in the field. ‘I recognize your names. There was a wretched matter afoot last night - one that you were the center of. I admit, I had wondered what would force someone’s hand in such a way as to send assassins. What business do you have with me?’”

When it became clear that both Marinette and Adrien weren’t going to speak up - each seemed to be stuck in a cycle of catching the other’s eye, blushing, and looking somewhere else - Alya sighed and responded.

She cleared her throat. “During our travels, we uncovered something that we felt you ought to know. There was a…” Her eyes widened and she glanced between her flustered friends. “Um… What was he called? An evil sorcerer?”

Marinette mumbled something that might have been, “Dark adept.”

“Thanks, M.” Straightening her back, Alya looked toward Nino again. “There was a dark adept raising the dead to fight for him.”

“A flurry of murmuring erupts around you. The royal guard flanking the King tighten their grips on their halberds. The King himself has his lips tighten into a thin line before saying, ‘That is a bold claim, young knight. I trust that you brought justice to this renegade, in accordance with the laws of our land?’”

Alya nodded. “Of course! But there is more to it than that.” She checks her character sheet. “Who has the decrypted journal of the dark adept? It looks like it isn’t on me.”

There was a rustling of papers.

“Oh, right,” Adrien said, “I forgot that I was checking it for other clues.”

“Is that when you rolled another one and forgot how to read for a few hours?”

“Hush.”

“Anyway,” Alya said, returning to her character voice, “My ally has a decrypted journal we took from the adepts quarters. There were repeated references to the adept’s master, and hints of a larger plot against the kingdom.”

“The King frowns. ‘Let me see this journal.’”

“I’ll take it up to him.”

“He takes it from Adrien’s character and quickly skims through it, his eyes narrowing as he reaches the end. ‘I must thank you for your work in ending this threat, but it seems a larger one has made itself known. While I am sure you must want to rest, I must ask you to meet this threat to the kingdom.’ He gestures to an advisor nearby. ‘Pay these heroes five hundred gold pieces for each of them.’ His eyes land on you once again. ‘I’ll pay double that once you bring me proof that the Necromancer is dead, and his plot has died with him. Do you accept?’”

The other three exchanged looks between them.

“I’m all for earning a name for myself. And a quest from King Haman himself is about as good as it gets. I’m in.”

“I don’t have anything else planned,” Marinette shrugged, her eyes pointedly on the table in front of her. “I’m sure fighting evil will be its own kind of fun.”

“And where she goes,” Adrien nodded towards Marinette and met her eye. His voice lowered to almost a whisper. “...I’ll follow. Always.”

Something passed between them and it felt almost as if Nino were intruding. The moment passed, and the two of them broke out into furious blushes again.

“Right… so. The king nods, a faint smile on his lips. ‘Excellent. May the gods be with you in your quest.’” Nino took a sip of his drink. “Well, now you’re a little richer, and its time to level up your characters.”

For the rest of the session, Nino walked them through their first time leveling up and taught them the time honored art of spending their hard-earned gold. A new rapier for Adrien. Alchemist’s fire for Marinette. That sort of thing. They were feeling more confident now that they had more than their starting array of equipment, and Nino smiled as he watched them work. It was good to be the dungeon master.

--------

Later, after Adrien had taken Marinette home, Alya and Nino cuddled on the couch. With how big both their families were, it wasn’t often that they got a chance to hang out alone.

For a while, Nino was comfortable with the silence. But then curiosity got the better of him.

“So… how are you liking Dungeons and Dragons now? Still think it’s just for nerds?” He smirked at her as she rolled her eyes.

“Okay, I admit… I’m having loads of fun. It’s always nice to spend more time with you guys. And you especially,” Alya said, reaching up to kiss his cheek. “I’ve gotten surprisingly invested in this story. It almost feels like being Rena Rouge again, fighting evil and all that.”

“Not as likely to end up getting thrashed by a super villain, though.”

“Fair. And it’s nice to act like someone else for a while. Although,” she stretched, “it’s also nice when I don’t have to be the one taking the lead. I hope the babies get their act together soon. Being the leader is exhausting.”

“Poor babe,” Nino cooed, earning himself a gentle punch in the shoulder from his girlfriend. “Don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll figure things out sooner or later.”

“It’s the later part I’m worried about. I just hope they’ll get their act together by next session.”

“I’m sure they will.” Nino wrapped his arms around Alya. “What’s the worst that could have happened? It’s not like they have big secrets that they are sitting on.”

They considered this for a few moments before Nino added,

“Besides the obvious crush thing, at least.”

#Miraculous Ladybug #Nino Lahiffe #Alya Cesaire #DJ Wifi #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Adrien Agreste #Adrienette #D&D #Dungeons and Dragon #DnD #ml fanfiction #my writing #Nino's Quest

[dimpled-rapper-stan]

Halo lovey. (*3*) Who is your fav fic writer and y? I need recs (°3°)

Whew chile. That’s a tall order, but no worries I gotchu babydoll.

Okay so lemme just start by saying that I started reblogging all fics I read here: @the-perfect-switch​

Disclaimer: I haven’t been reading as much as I used to back in my earlier days lmao saying that makes me sound so old because life just got so busy. T^T But every time I come across a fic that catches my attention, I save it in my drafts to come back to later when I have time, and as you can probably imagine…

Issa lot.

That being said, I got a couple blogs I frequent and have been with since day one of my K-pop fic reading life. These are all a mix of fanfics and reactions, mostly smut cuz I’m a hoe but still some good fluff in there too. Lesgetit.

@k-fiction-therapy​ - You know I gotta start with my Noona right off the bat. Like I will never get over how amazing she writes, whether it’s full fics, drabbles, heck even her responses to asks are a treat. UwU I always enjoy reading her work, even when it’s not even my kink. I still read tf outta it.

@peaches-of-1​ - Listen, this chica has some mad talent with writing and visuals, like??? Plus she writes POC fics and the aesthetics oh my god I’m livingggg. We stan a goddess. 👏🤧

@imaslutforwords​ - Ou baby, this was one of my VERY firsts. Mmf. I swear this blog gave me kinks and guilty pleasures I didn’t even know I had, no lie.

@kpopyourcherryy​ - Ahh yes, another beginner. The url is so accurate cuz this was deadass one of my K-pop fanfic cherry poppers. Again, one of the blogs that gave me kinks and guilty pleasures I didn’t know I had. Pretty sure this and imaslutforwords is where my Daddy kink started tbh.

@kpopthispussyyy​ - Ohohoho HONEY. The pure FILTH and I am absolutely HERE FOR IT. Mmf. Not for the faint of heart. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

@peached-bangtan​ - *incoherent screaming* LISTEN!!!! I can not put into words how much this blog makes my heart throb. I think I first followed back when “A Theory” was only on chapter 4? or 3? I’unno but point is I’ve been here a long ass time, the fics are amazing and “A Theory” is the reason I breathe. I deadass downloaded every song from the SHINee kisses reaction from a while back. I still obsess over “How Many Drinks” way too much and Hyungwon isn’t even my bias or my bias wrecker, that’s just how good the story is.

@idolsclub​ - Whew chile, speaking of filth. This blog is like the chocolate syrup, sprinkles and whipped cream on top of my ice cream. Perfect for those quiet nights alone in your room with a glass of wine and a curious hand…  ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

@smutfictionaddicted also @writings-by-cl​ and here on AO3 - Honestly one of the sweetest people you’ll ever meet on this site. Plus she writes for thick readers too. We stan a queen. 👏👏👏 The Tumblr purge made things all screwy, but these are all her links that I know of where you should be able to find all her works. If the tumblr links don’t work on PC, try mobile.

@ithinkilikeit-reactions​ - I think I like it. Need I say more?  ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) But seriously tho, top tier content. 10/10. And I won’t say anything else because I don’t wanna spoil anything. Go binge read it for yourself hun. UwU

@xxprincessjewelsxx​ - Ohoho honey, this is that sit down by the fireplace with a glass of red wine on a cool winter night quality fanfiction. Mmf. Love it.

@gyeommine​ - Another sweet bub. Quality content honestly. Wholesome. Fun for the whole family. XD

@kpurereactions​ - Everything here is 100% pure… I swear... ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

@indul-jaence​ - Listen hun, I’ve been following through like… 3? 4? url changes… and I’ve had a mini heartattack every time because my first thought is “OH MY GOD PLEASE TELL ME IT’S NOT DEACTIVATED I WILL CRY!!” But still here and I’m lovin’ it. UwU

@noonachronicles​ - Whew honeychild. Go to her masterlist. Read to your heart’s content. Share with friends. You won’t regret a single second of it. It’s beautiful work from a beautiful person I tell you.

@hobiminkooksprincess1990​ - Jung Hoseok’s actual wife. I don’t make the rules. I highly recommend “Dreams Come True” (Part 1 & 2) and her “7 Days Of Pleasure” series. I read them both like 3 times.

@lonely-kitten-named-bambi​ - Sin, sin and more sin, and I love every beautiful word of it.

@imsarabum​ - Probably the reason why I want a Markson threeway tbh…  ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) That and this is another source to fuel my Jaebum thirst.

I hope these helped~ There’s a lot of other blogs that I probably have read like 1 or 2 fics from that I really loved but didn’t list here, but more than likely you will find them on @the-perfect-switch

#sometimes people ask me things

[verai-marcel]

Into The Wolf’s Den, Ch. 1 (RDR2 Fanfic, 18+ ONLY)

Summary: You wouldn’t say you were dating Arthur. But the two of you have spent the past three weekends rutting like animals in heat. When he finally invites you over to his place, what will you find?

Author’s Notes: Disclaimer: I just did some minor research on the D/s lifestyle; I don’t live it, I don’t know anyone who does, so this is all just some fevered self-indulgent fiction because I want Arthur to DOM THE HECK OUTTA ME. If you’re down for that, then come along for the ride.

Tags: Medium Honor Arthur Morgan, D/s, spanking, light bondage, porn with feelings, porn with plot, rough sex, sexual roleplay

Find it on AO3 here.

Chapter 1 - New Places

“You’ve been pretty happy these past few weeks. Finally gettin’ some dick?”

“Well…” you trailed off. You hadn’t told your best friend that you and Arthur were seeing each other. In fact, you hadn’t told her about him at all. You’d have to come up with something, and fast.

“You don’t have to tell me any deets right now, just tell me one thing: does he have a brother?”

You laughed. Leave it to your friend to know when to stop asking, at least for today. She knew that you’d tell her in your own time, but that wouldn’t stop her from dropping a hint every now and then that she wanted to know.

An alarm went off on her phone. “Shit, gotta run. Get some sleep before work, alright?” She grabbed her purse and took off, looking sleek and graceful in her high heels and pencil skirt. You just smiled and shook your head, comfortable in your sweats and beat up Converse, so dirty they were more grey than canvas. Anyone looking at the two of you probably wouldn’t expect the deep friendship that lay there.

You two had been friends since college, when you answered her ad to be roommates, and stayed as roommates throughout your entire time there. She was a few years older than you, finishing her bachelor’s in animal biology, while you went for your bachelor’s in criminal justice.  You stayed in touch after college while she went for her doctorate in veterinary science, which she just got this year. She joked about making you call her “Doctor”, but you knew she was just kidding; she was humble about her achievements.

And you had been her foundation, her pillar of strength, when shit went down with her ex. You had always looked to her as an older sister, but that day, when you stood between her and her dirtbag ex, ready to put a fucker in the ground if he took a step closer, she seemed so much smaller. You never wanted that to happen again, so whenever she mentioned meeting a guy, you always demanded to meet them face to face.

You shook your head of the past. She was smiling now, and that was what mattered to you. You’d tell her about Arthur eventually. Just not yet.

You left the cafe and walked back home, a bit bummed that your coffee date had been cut short, but you knew what that alarm on your friend’s phone meant: an animal emergency. Your friend’s compassion for animals knew no bounds, and if someone hurt an animal, goddamn, her wrath was unstoppable.

Turning the corner as you walked the last block to your apartment, you heard your phone ring. Seeing the number, you smiled like a fool and answered the call.

“Hey sweetheart. You ready for tomorrow?”

“Of course. Just have to make it through today.” You tried to play it cool, but to be honest, you were super excited.

“Stay safe,” he said. “If you get hurt, lemme know, I’ll come right over and take care of ya.”

“I know. I’ll be fine.” You had gotten kicked pretty hard last week when a new prisoner refused to listen to you, and Arthur had dropped everything to come over and take care of you that night, even though you had insisted you were fine. After that kick, you had dropped the new prisoner to the ground with a few sharp moves, and the newer officers who hadn’t worked with you before now looked at you with both admiration and a little bit of fear.

Arthur was silent on the line for a few ticks, then sighed. “Alright. I trust you.” You could hear him take a deep breath. “I was wonderin’... would you like to come over to my place instead?”

A weekend at Arthur’s place. You had been wondering why he hadn’t invited you before. Was it like a sex dungeon like in the movies, with whips and chains and leather straps everywhere? You were so curious. He hadn’t outright said he was a Dom, but with a few internet searches and some hints to his inclinations that you noticed these past few weeks, especially last week when he ordered you to stay still while he took his time edging you, you were starting to believe your theory was true.

“Sure,” you replied, your curiosity outweighing your caution. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“So am I, darlin’.”

***

You stood in front of a small apartment complex out in the boonies. It was actually kind of pretty, surrounded by ponderosa pines and large boulders. But because it was so far from town, not many people chose to live here, unless they worked in the nearby farms, or had no choice. Knowing Arthur’s circumstances, you figured no one else would let him rent there. You walked up the steps to #305, and knocked softly on the door.

After a few minutes, you knocked again.

“He just stepped out,” a deep voice said behind you. You quickly turned around and subtly lowered your stance so your center of gravity was more stable. A dark-skinned man stood at the landing before the steps leading up to Arthur’s door. He was tall, with the same build as Arthur, broad chested and with a calm energy that made you think he wasn’t a threat, but could be if he wanted.

“Oh? Do you know when he’ll be back?”

“I’m back,” a familiar voice said as Arthur rounded the steps, coming into the view. He looked at the other man, and gestured upwards.

“Charles,” the man said as he came up the steps. “I’m Arthur’s friend. I live one floor above.”

You introduced yourself and relaxed, knowing that he was a friend of Arthur’s. He must have helped Arthur get back on his feet after his time in prison. Arthur had reached the two of you as you spoke your pleasantries. You wondered how much Arthur had told him about you.

“I was just on my way back up. See you later, Arthur.”

Arthur just waved as Charles continued up the stairs. Then he turned to you.

“Let’s go inside,” he said, moving past you to unlock and open the door. “After you.”

You stepped inside far enough to let him in as well, and he flipped on the lights as he closed the door. It was a sparse studio apartment, with a door to the bathroom directly on the left, and a small kitchen on the right with a counter separating the kitchen from the living space. You kicked off your shoes and walked further into the apartment; the open living space was past the bathroom, and it was taken up by a king sized bed, a night stand, and a chest of drawers across from the bed. A closet with mirror doors was also across from the bed, which you noticed, remembering your first time with Arthur.

“Big bed,” you said absentmindedly.

“I’m a big guy,” he said, amused. You heard the sounds of a grocery bag, and turned to see him place it on the counter. Looking back at him, he shrugged sheepishly. “Was out of whiskey. Figured I’d grab some real quick before you got here.”

You laughed. The man loved his whiskey. He didn’t strike you as an alcoholic, he just legitimately enjoyed the stuff. You didn’t understand it, but then again, there were several things you didn’t understand about him, and were content to leave it be. For now.

“Now then. We need to talk,” he said as he guided you to sit at the counter. You hopped onto the one bar stool while he stood across from you, taking your hands in his.

“What’s this about?” you asked, already having an idea of what he was going to talk about.

“I think you know,” he said, observing your tone of voice and the look on your face, “but I’ll spell it out.” He leaned in closer to you. “I’ve got a Dominant personality. I need to know, before we go any further, if you’re okay with that.”

“As in, a Dom? Like BDSM?”

“Yeah.”

You blew out a breath. You were right. But you had questions. “What does that mean for me? And what does that term mean to you?”

“Good questions,” Arthur said, smiling proudly. “For me, it means I want to make you feel the best you’ve ever felt. I’ll push you as far as you can go. For you, it means trustin' me. It means givin' me control over you.”

You swallowed. That was asking a lot.

“You’ll always have the final say,” he continued. “The moment you say them safewords, you take your control back.” He touched your cheek ever so gently. “If that happens, I’ve failed as a Dom. And I don’t like failin’.”

His eyes were holding your gaze so intensely that you felt like you were being hypnotized. You blinked and pulled back, his hand falling back to the countertop. Could you do this?

“Will it always be like that?”

“It’s who I am,” Arthur replied simply. “I’ve been holdin’ back, but I can’t change me.”

“Is this… just a bedroom thing?”

Arthur was silent for a moment. “No. The way I’ve been treatin’ you lately, that’s more or less how it’ll be.”

You tilted your head in thought. He didn’t seem all that domineering to you, maybe a little overbearing. “I expected a Dom to be more… bossy.”

“A real Dom protects their sub. Too many idiots out there don’t get that. They think they get to do whatever they want. But a good Dom knows it’s all about makin’ their sub happy.”

You thought about his words for a few moments as he held your hand, massaging your knuckles with his thumb. It was kind of selfless, the way he was describing it. But you didn’t believe that anyone existed that could be that altruistic.

“What do you get out of this?” you asked.

“Havin’ you trust me enough to hand over complete control of your body is a high I can’t get enough of,” he answered, his eyes growing dark with lust. “Watchin’ you lose yourself in my arms is the best.”

You shivered, your body suddenly growing hot and needy for his touch. His honeyed words could’ve been a trap, but right then and there, with his gorgeous eyes looking at you like you were a sex goddess that he wanted to worship forever, you wanted to be completely his.

“Okay. I’ll try this.”

He smiled. “Glad I was right about you. Gonna give you a second safeword, okay?”

“Other than cherries?”

“Yup. Say ‘lemon’ if you’re reachin’ your limit and I’ll ease off whatever I’m doin’ to calm ya down. Can you do that for me?”

“Sure.”

He took both your hands in his and clasped them tightly, making you focus. “I mean it. I’m trustin’ you to be open with me, just like I am with you. No hidin’ or tryin’ to grit through somethin’. If it ain’t givin’ you pleasure, tell me.”

You nodded, unable to speak. This was a level of openness and honesty you had never experienced during sex, or anything else, for that matter. It was a breath of fresh air. You were both anxious and looking forward to it.

As Arthur walked around the counter to stand beside you, your heart beat faster with anticipation. He gently rubbed your neck, nuzzling your cheek with the tip of his nose. His lips grazed your chin.

“Would you like me to tie you up?” he asked seductively.

“Yes,” you whispered.

“Spanked?”

“Yes.”

“Blindfolded?”

You hesitated. You didn't like losing your sight.

“Maybe next time,” Arthur said, sensing your reluctance. He spun the bar stool around so you faced him.

“Thought of a little scene. Remember that neighbor fantasy you told me about?”

You nodded. Oh God. Was he…?

“How's about I caught you sneakin’ around my place, and I need to punish you. Sound good?”

“Yes!” you said, perhaps too enthusiastically.

Arthur chuckled before pulling back. “Go sit on the bed. Play starts now.”

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

Chapter 2 is here

#rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 #modern au #nsft #arthur morgan #arthur x reader #writing #prisoner AU #red dead redemption 2 #fanfic