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bongo-clash · 2 years

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Peacock Au Part 1

Okay so Big Huge credit to @stealingyourbones for letting me do my own take on their amazing eldritch Danny idea!!!! This started out as me just doing a drawing but then I ended up with a whole DPxDC fic that I'll be posting the part two for at some point!!! Anyway, here's the vague designs:

And here's the part one of the fic under the cut!!! :D (Edit: Part 2 is Here!!)

There’s a Lazarus Pit forming underneath Gotham. Normally, this would not concern John Constantine at all, because it’s Gotham, therefore Bat territory therefore not his problem, and honestly he has his own things to worry about. Unfortunately for him, however, the infamous Dark Knight has somehow gotten it into his head that he can do something about it and, Hell, he’d said it would be a ‘big favour’, which meant the man really must be desperate; had to have been in the first place, he supposed, to have even bothered with John in the first place.

Still, he’d almost kind of forgotten what a huge mess any kind of favour for Batman could be, and thus, he now holds possession of a book that is probably going to get him killed.

Whether the actual book itself wants to kill him is up for debate, but Constantine has read the contents of this particular Book of Summonings and nothing in here seems remotely safe. He’s absolutely going to be hiding this away somewhere deep in the archives of the archives of the Justice League watchtower with an incredibly pointed ‘DO NOT TOUCH’ on it once he’s done with this, but for now, it’s the only thing he’s got in the way of sorting out this Pit problem.

There’s an entity that exists, this book claims, that keeps the balance between realms. ‘Closes doors’, apparently, and the doors the pages depict certainly look like a Lazarus Pit. This is brilliant news, obviously, but the book doesn’t describe the entity itself at all beyond that; barely any of the other entries are as vague as this, and that plus some of the frankly bizarre sigils he’s having to draw to summon the damn thing are giving him no comfort. The only remotely comforting thing about it is that the ritual doesn’t require any blood- which either means the entity is benign, or it wants something more valuable than blood.

…Okay, maybe not that comforting, actually.

But, before he can consider that maybe this wasn’t his best idea and backing out would be for the best, the sigils flare with light, and Constantine squints to keep track of the way they activate, desperate for any indication of what he’s managed to summon with that stupid book.

His feet feel feathery against the ground, like they’re barely tethered by gravity and just waiting to float away, and perhaps the seeming lack of atmosphere is fitting with how dust like stars lift from the summoning circle, bringing with them intercepting layers of purple-blue-pink-white, galaxies and nebulae being peeled off the floor. It comes with a sound- something whistling, almost. Seeming hollow, between a shriek and a bell ringing, or maybe more musical than that. It seems to change every moment he tries to focus on it, as if it’s something his ears can’t really hear but his brain is desperate to process, painful to try.

And then, the entity begins to form.

Unnoticeably at first, a white glow drifts forming in the centre. It congeals as Constantine’s gaze finally fixates on it, layers forming like jellyfish trails, or flowers, or peacock feathers with runic circles at the tips, fading smaller and smaller as they reach the centre, and a thing akin to a body unfolds into view at the front, a centrepiece. A child’s image of a shadow in opalescence, a strange curving feature where a neck might be, and searing-green spots of varying sizes scattered along the space where cheeks and eyes could’ve been, fading up and down across the lower-half of the ‘face’ and into the ‘hair’. He barely understands what he’s looking at, but maybe that’s the point.

The sound of a thunderstorm rings across the room, and the curve of the neck unfolds, and it’s an eye, and the tips of a thousand twisted, cosmic peacock feathers become eyes as well, if they weren’t always. They move, wavering, either lashing or flickering from visibility.

“And what is this?” The voice is a kaleidoscope, echoing off and from every corner of the room, and when they speak, infinite eyes become infinite mouths, too many teeth barely contained by the edges of what seem vaguely like frostbitten lips. To have something even remotely human suddenly etch itself onto the entity is somehow worse than the parts he can’t comprehend. “Who are you, to have summoned me, and seem so afraid?”

Constantine wishes, maybe for the first time, that it hadn’t been an obligation to do this alone; he’s never wanted Batman or one of the Light members with him more than now. It’s a difficult thing, almost impossible, to shake off the speechlessness. It’s a wonder that it’s possible at all, with how the room seems to have been twisted into a vacuum. “I was told you could- you could help with the pits?”

“The pits. There are many pits.”

God, this is creepy. “The Lazarus pits to, uh, to be specific. There’s a huge one cropping up under Gotham that’s not supposed to be there, and the local- I mean, the locals are getting antsy about it. …I heard you can take care of them.”

“I can smell its blood between the gaps of atmosphere, encircling. You, whose soul is bound in so many directions, who may be pulled apart like meat in time- can you sense it? Does it draw you?” John doesn’t know how this- this thing knows that, but he’s scared asking will invoke some kind of consequence, and more and more he’s wondering why the Hell he decided to do Batman this favour. He feels exposed.

“Uh… no, I don’t think so. But can you fix it?”

“Yes.”

“…Will you fix it?”

The chill is getting to him. Goosebumps are running across his arms like a livewire, and he’s never doing anyone a favour ever again. The entity makes an approximation of a hum, his ears shriek with whale song and stars, and after a pause, everything switching up and down on itself, the peacock eyes form into huge, reaching hands. For a second, Constantine’s whole body freezes with terror, because he’s petrified the thing’s going to grab him, but then the arms tumble phasing into the ground, and the green spots on their ‘face’ flare with a supernova glow and they make another piercing noise, chiming or trilling.

A long moment later, the hands slowly return to the entity’s back, and fade into the peacock feathers or jellyfish bells or whatever they were before, blinking at him. “It is gone.”

“Uh… cheers?”

“It will not return, but this place shall see its dead for some time. Try not to look.”

This is maybe the worst day of Constantine’s life. “Can I- uh, yeah, great advice. ‘Appreciate it. But, can I ask just, y’know, what you are? Or not.”

“That is up to you.” They say, and though the eyes that appear briefly between sentences bely or reveal no expression, it feels scrutinising. “What is it that closes doors? Is it alive?”

He hates riddles. He hates riddles and he hates cosmic horrors and he hates eldritch entities and he hates Batman for getting him to agree to this horrible favour. He wants to go back to the House of Mystery and pass out for long enough that this whole thing becomes a dream. “Fair enough! Forget I asked- cheers for sorting out that pit, though. Uh, don’t suppose you’ll just let me go on my way or anything now.”

“I know of your Bat.”

Oh dear. Constantine’s stomach sinks like a shipwreck into the Mariana Trench, but the entity moves on like they’d never even said it. “I will recede, and find you in time, perhaps both. You will know when I am coming, and I will find my recompense.”

And just like that, their whole form shimmers into clouds and pearls and smoke and mirrors, and they fade back into the runes that summoned them like tap water down the drain. The galaxies they’d formulated within the confines of the room fold back in on themselves and turn to whispers and then nothing, but the feeling persists on his skin long after weight has settled back onto his bones. He hadn’t known a thing like that existed until now. He doesn’t know what it can do, doesn’t know how all-encompassing it truly is.

And he owes it a favour.

Crap.

#I'll be posting the part two at some point soon since it's already written out so prepare for that lmao!!#Warning that there might be some mistakes in here since I literally just wrote this and the second part a couple hours ago #This is a Little bit of a thing about my hc on the Ghost Monarchy and how it isn't Actually a monarchy #It's just that the 'king' keeps the actual physical balance of the GZ (ie natural portal stuff) & the title originally had a different name #But when Pariah Dark took the mantle he decided it made him the ruler of the GZ and that's why the Ancients took him down #But I'll talk more abt that if I ever get around to finishing that GZ culture/history/evolution post thing I had planned lmao!!!!#Either way I Love Eldritch Danny sm and writing this was so so fun!!!#Part two will be from Danny's perspective!!!#I might colour those drawings and stuff at some point but for now I like them as they are!!!#Also before I forget I Am still thinking about that pizza delivery guy pt. 2 I just got stuck a bit!!! It'll hopefully appear at some point #dp au #danny phantom au #dpxdc #john constantine #danny phantom fanart #dp fanart #danny phantom #Bongo's Aus!!!#Bongo's Writing!!!#Bongo's Art!!!#tw body horror #peacock au

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dont-f-with-moogles · 3 months

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Valentine’s Day prompt 💝

For Dazai x Reader 🔞: it’s Valentine’s Day & Dazai tells Reader how romantic it would be to die together today & Reader replies “how about we fuck instead?”

A Little Death (Dark Era; aged up/18+; NSFW) Mafia!Dazai x Reader 1706 words Tw: sui ideation, choking

It was a secluded scene, shrouded in silence. No one dared to cross the boundary of the hotel’s grounds; to do so was a privilege only afforded to a select few. Its air of secrecy was such that it rendered the half a dozen armed guards who brooded over the tower like ravens, quite superfluous. Port Mafia territory. For a scarce number, its walls knew their secrets but whispered none. For the rest, it was simply impenetrable.

The hotel room was neither luxurious nor homely. Thin gauze blinds let in little moonlight. Outside, the starless sky was streaked with storm clouds. Even the fluorescence which defined Yokohama’s horizon and kept the city in artificial daylight did not reach this dark corner of the prefecture. Rain pattered relentlessly, the deluge so intense that entire waves were dashed at the rattling windows. Thin branches scraped against glass. You glanced above your head, half-expecting the flaked plaster to cave in at any moment.

Quieter than the storm came the clicking of the heating unit. A stale smell lingered about the plain, whitewashed walls. A black suit jacket thrown over a chair. Unfinished business. Sake bottles cluttered the side table. A low electric light. Crumpled bed sheets and the scent of sex.

You felt too cold to remain in the doorway. Shrugging your coat off, you hung it on a wall-mounted hook beside his. Its belt dripped rainwater onto the matting beside your discarded Louboutins. As you crossed into the room his silhouette came into view. Dazai sat cross legged on the floor, arms in his lap, his back against the end of a double, Western-style bed. He made no sign at your approach. His gestures, or lack of, were as inscrutable as ever. No one had ever sifted the murky depths which submerged his heart. You only knew that he played games. And, if his intention was to set you on edge, then you would just have to make yourself comfortable.

“I know I kept you waiting…”

The bed gave a small creak as you knelt upon it. Removing the tie from your hair, you allowed it to tumble down, sodden and tangled, past your waist. Then, with a sound of relative contentment, you flung yourself on your back and stretched out your legs luxuriously upon the pillows. Dazai was motionless; the back of his head remained against the foot of the bed. Dark, brown tufts stood up, unruly. You let your head hang down beside his so that your rain-flecked skin brushed against his face. His cotton bandage wrapping grazed your cheek. You felt his jaw tighten. Upside down, the cracks in the floor appeared more fragile than the ceiling. Either one could give way at any moment.

A hand reached into your hair.

“If you remember, you did promise me romance…” Dazai’s tone was as soft as silk. With a turn of his head, the tip of his nose brushed your own. His breath, sweet with sake, clouded you. Threatened to pull you under. Only the initiating thread of conversation and he was already reeling you in.

Slowly his fingers stroked loose strands from your face, until he was cradling the back of your head. There was something so gentle, so loving in the subtle press of his fingertips that you closed your eyes.

“I know…” Your words bore the weight of remorse, even if you didn’t feel it.

Rain lashed violently at the window. Dazai gathered your damp hair around his fingers, weaving a braid like a coil of rope. Playful. If his patience was worn then the lithe movements of his hands did not suggest it.

“How beautiful…” he mused to himself, wrapping the twisted knots like a noose around his knuckles. Watchful, you lay still. In the gloom the pale skin of your neck shone silver.

“What is?”

Wet hair tickled your throat.

“...why, the thought of dying with you tonight. What else?”

Dazai’s voice was thick with desire, quite at odds with such a fatalistic notion. The weight of your corded braid was draped across your neck. With a rustling movement, he had risen to his knees.

“...that’s why you came here, after all.” Dazai poured his whisper into your ear. Liquid black.

Unkempt hair brushed your skin. A pale face; his scars half-hidden beneath wrappings. Dazai’s exposed eye gazed down at you with lust. Its colour was as dark as earth whilst the iris gleamed like molten gold at its centre. His words, his gestures, his games; who could look beyond the endless depths into Dazai’s heart? No; to meet his eye was to stare down into the core of the world itself.

A pull upon the end of your hair; the vine wound itself tighter. You smiled up at him, despite the pink blotches forming on your skin.

“Actually -” you managed, your breath stuttering, “- what I proposed - was a little death.”

Your scalp burned where strands were almost yanked from the roots. Ignoring your hold upon his sleeve, Dazai twisted your hair around his fingers. As ever, he wove his little designs only for you to fall, ensnared in his trap. Not that you minded. If you had any intention of survival, then you would never have accepted his invitation here tonight. Easy prey. What was the point in the struggle when Dazai could so easily devour you whole?

Then the twisted cord collapsed. Your chest heaved in the quiet room. The long ribbon of your hair was still gathered in Dazai’s grip. Fiercely, he jerked your head backwards.

“Is that all you can manage?” Warm breath curled over the shell of your ear. His teeth grazed the sensitive skin of your lobe. Bloodlust rose to the surface.

You let out a shiver of breath, rolling your head back against the covers. Dazai’s shadow fell; rippled down your chest as he leaned over the edge of the bed. His black tie swung loose; draped over your ribcage. With a brush of cool air he drew your collar away. Languorous in his movements, he enjoyed the sight of you like this. His nose grazed your bare shoulder, breath ghosting over your skin. Then - a gentle drop of his lips.

“Find out for yourself, Osamu…”

Dazai pressed his kiss to the base of your throat like a knife.

Hands gathered in his hair, you sighed as Dazai trailed slow, hot, open-mouthed kisses down to your jawline. Your legs writhed against the pillows. Purple wounds nicked into your skin; each mark counted and tossed on the mound of his sins. They said that only darkness flowed through his veins. Mafia black. Doomed to love as dangerously as he lived.

Dazai tasted your jaw; lingered over your cheek, his breath coming quicker. Threading his fingers through your own, he drew your arms beneath him. A feather-light touch to the pale skin of your wrists, his fingertips wandered your limbs. A tuft of dark fringe swept your chin as Dazai kissed your lower lip. Thighs clenched together, you gave another airless sigh. Your mouth chased his, body arching beneath his caress. Head turning against his own, you felt his tongue glide over the back of your teeth.

With a creak of mattress springs, the weight upon the bed shifted. Dazai’s knee sank into the covers beside your head. Bandaged hands smoothed the hem of your dress as his mouth nipped languidly at your bottom lip. The material was bunched together in his fist, and then he slowly drew it up over your hips.

You gasped as Dazai broke away from your mouth. Fingertips stroked your upper leg. A thumb dipped into the waistline of your underwear.

“La petite mort… the brief state of unconsciousness.” Dazai’s breath warmed the inside of your leg. “Only those consumed by death or desire know it…”

With one hook of his finger he had drawn the lace down around your ankles. Teeth grazed your thigh. Your chest rose and fell as he pressed a kiss to your soft, warm skin. Inching closer, closer… until he was right above where you wanted him. Your hands slipped down Dazai’s lower back. Then, the first brush of his tongue. A low moan bled from your throat. His crumpled shirt almost tore under your nails.

Dazai teased, tasted your clit; his subtle toying sent heat flaring. But one taste had provoked a deeper craving within him. Tongue flattened against you, Dazai indulged himself. His grasp upon your legs tightened until his knuckles blanched. The swill of his tongue set your tender flesh aflame. Your mouth dropped open, back curved away from the bed. Beads of sweat broke out over your forehead as you gripped the bedsheets in your fists. All you wanted was to feel his movements inside you.

As Dazai leaned over you, the fabric of his suit brushed your ear. Self-serving, of course he never gave without taking. All that mattered was the price you paid. In this position, he had you exactly where he wanted you. Reaching out, your hand brushed the rigid pleat in his trousers. Hastily, you unclasped his belt; slung down the material; drew him out. With a firm grasp you guided his rock hard cock down to your open mouth.

Lips closed around him. Tight. With a shudder, his hips thrust forward. Dazai’s bandaged hands lifted your legs, splayed you open to swallow you whole. Fingertips buried themselves in your skin. Oh how he longed to grip them in your hair whilst he rubbed himself against your lips. Your nerves were humming; shivers shot through your limbs like electricity. The first syllable of his name collapsed into a moan which sent vibrations down his cock. He scraped the roof of your mouth over and over, until his rhythm began to stutter.

“Fuck…” you heard him choke. “...fuck… no one else can take me like you do.”

He gripped your legs higher, pulled you to him, drank you down. Insatiable. You were burning alive. Helpless, your body melted on his tongue. With a choked gasp, you clenched your thighs around his neck.

“...wanna die happy…” Dazai’s voice was weak as he wiped his mouth on the inside of your thigh. “...so let me die between these legs, Beautiful...”

#thanks for your prompt Val!#I wanted to take a break from Levihan #but I'll be back on my bullshit soon dw #some of these lines were used in my Levi drabble #but I originally wrote them with Dazai in mind ;)#so had to honour them here. They were always meant for him <3 #mafia!dazai #bsd dark era #dazai osamu #dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai x y/n #dazai x fem!reader #bungou stray dogs #bsd #tw choking #tw sui ideation #n.sfw #my writing

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byima · 2 days

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a sort of mother's day drabble for our otp and for sally jackson, best g-ma in the world. set right after this drabble.

“Hey ma,” Percy announced their return. “Hi,” he lowered his voice, when he took in the scene in their apartment.

Sally was on the couch, Charlie asleep on the cushion next to her.

“Hi hun– Hi sweetheart,” Sally addressed Annabeth, who was bent over in the hall behind him, unbuckling her sandals. “How was it?”

“It was nice.” Percy tossed his keys onto the dining table. “Went to Olive Garden and had their, uh, soup salad thing.”

“The lunch special,” Annabeth explained.

“Yeah. We brought you some soup, the one with gnocchi.”

“You can put it in the fridge for me, thank you.” She sang the last bit as Percy headed into the kitchen to follow instructions.

“Hi,” Sally said for the third time, when Annabeth sat close to her side.

“Thanks for doing this today.” Annabeth crossed her arms over her chest, nudging Sally’s body with her own.

The older woman smiled at her, narrowing her eyes before patting Annabeth lightly on the thigh. “No need to thank me. The gnocchi does the trick.”

“I know, I just…” she chewed her lower lip, then laid her hand over Sally’s. “Hold on, I want to show you something.”

She reached for her bag, which she had tossed by the arm of the couch, softly calling Percy over as she pulled it into her lap.

He was behind them, arms braced against the back of the sofa, by the time she’d located the manilla folder in the clutter of her purse.

Sally had already gone still when she saw the folder, then started crying when Annabeth slid the contents free, one black and white photo after the next.

She covered her crying eyes and leaned into her. Annabeth wrapped both arms around her mother-in-law, returning Percy’s grinning, slightly teary look over Sally’s hunched form.

“I can’t breathe, oh my god,” Sally moaned. “I’m going to pass out.”

“Breathe, ma,” he rubbed her back comfortingly. “We need you alive for this.”

Sally ignored him. “I thought something was going on, I mean, I just knew something was going on, but I didn’t think it would be another baby, so soon.” She sat up.

“So soon?” Sally turned, directing the question at Percy like the timing was his fault alone.

He flushed, even though he knew better. “Um–”

“I’m only eight weeks,” Annabeth clarified.

Sally laid a hand over her heart

“We just found out–I couldn’t keep it from you,” she explained, hardly knowing what she was saying. “It's a bit of a shock for us too.”

Sally looked at Percy again, but this time he laughed.

“I don’t know why you keep looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” She tried to play innocent. “Com’mere.” She held him by the shirt, bringing him down to her level for a tight hug. “I’m so happy for you guys. I love you. I love all the grandchildren you give me.”

“You know you’re the best ma/g-ma in the world.”

“Two little babies,” she crooned.

Charlie started stirring in all the commotion–light sleeper that she was–making fussy noises until her dad rounded the couch and picked her up.

“How are you feeling?” Sally had the ultrasound photos in her hands and was going through them one by one. She brushed her thumb over one image, the developing fetus curled like a lima bean.

Annabeth watched Percy with Charlie, who had decided nap time was over. She clung moodily to her dad, cheek on his shoulder, two fingers in her mouth.

“Really good, health-wise," she answered, eyes lingering on the father-daughter pair taking laps around the living room. "I’m taking things day by day.”

"That's the best thing you can do. Soak up these moments before they're all grown up." Sally followed Annabeth's gaze. "Saving the world and having their own babies."

Annabeth lowered her voice before she mentioned, "He freaked out at the transvaginal ultrasound."

Percy looked at them snorting together and groaned. "The sonographer pulled out a fucking... baton, no warning."

Sally waved him off with a laugh. "Did you cry–you know, when you heard the heartbeat?"

"Like a baby." He grinned at his wife, bouncing Charlie lightly as her eyelids began to flutter closed.

Annabeth nodded to confirm this. "I was worse though. I couldn't even ask her any questions, I was such a bawling mess."

After a long back and forth about sexes and maternity jeans and the probability of colic twice in a row, Sally eventually stood, moved by the hunger that comes with good company. She handed Annabeth her leftover breadsticks before heating her soup.

In the kitchen she leaned against the stove, watching the little family as she waited for the microwave.

Annabeth had tucked her legs up underneath her on the couch. Charlie was still fighting sleep, despite her dad's cajoling. Percy had settled into the space by Annabeth, nodding when she offered him a bite of her food.

She fed him too much at once. He angled his head away to avoid deep-throating the breadstick. She stared, fighting a grin, and he stared back, jaw working hard to chew the mouthful. He shook his head, eyes narrowing at her mischief. Hers crinkled with her smile. Then she leaned over, careful of the baby, and gently kissed him.

#i forced myself to write for the first time in months #consider this a heads up #i'll share the next chapter of tvel soon #1 minute left in california to say happy mothers day so here i go #mypjofic #percy and annabeth #percabeth #percy jackon and the olympians #sally jackson #aka ma aka g-ma

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wikiangela · 28 days

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wip wednesday

tagged by @theotherbuckley @daffi-990 @tizniz @bidisasterevankinard @dangerpronebuddie @hoodie-buck @aroeddiediaz 💖

I'm jumping between wips and ships so much rn, but trust me, it's even more chaotic in my brain like at all times lol it's so annoying

wasn't gonna post today but I figured I'd share a bit of the cheating fic bc I moved my self-imposed deadline to middle of may and istg I'm not moving it again so I need motivation to finish this lmao

(this scene is fighting me ngl, but I need it, and it's just gonna need a lot of editing but for now this is just a rough draft lol)

prev snippet

___

Not breaking the kiss, Eddie shifts, throwing his leg over Buck’s lap, straddling him, and Buck’s hands immediately wrap around his hips, bringing him closer, as close as possible, just needing Eddie closer. Eddie gasps when their crotches collide, and breaks the kiss, Buck’s lips moving to Eddie’s neck.

“Buck.” Eddie whispers. “Buck, we- we should talk.” Eddie tries, but one of his hands is tangled in Buk’s hair, holding on tight. Buck stills his movements, looks up at Eddie and sees reluctance in his face. He’s not sure if it’s reluctance to stop or continue, and he needs to know for sure, would never want Eddie to feel pressured in any way. They have no alcohol to blame this time, after all.

“If you want to, let’s stop, and we can talk.” Buck says, voice a little shaky as he adds, “But we can always talk tomorrow?”, knowing this is a very bad decision, once again. He’s looking at Eddie’s face and sees something complicated, a conflict, a battle with himself. His eyes roam over Buck’s face, lingering on his eyes, then lips, then back to eyes. In the end, some part of Eddie wins, or loses, and he captures Buck’s lips with his own again.

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @thebravebitch @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck

@eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @wildlife4life

@diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @thewolvesof1998 @weewootruck

@loveyouanyway @spagheddiediaz @rainbow-nerdss @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff

@spotsandsocks @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @nmcggg @rogerzsteven @hippolotamus

@giddyupbuck @sunshinediaz @honestlydarkprincess @underwaterninja13 @exhuastedpigeon

@911-on-abc @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @buddieswhvre @fortheloveofbuddie

@diazsdimples @your-catfish-friend

#wip wednesday #buddie cheating fic #eddie is not able to resist buck for the third time in this fic oops lol #both of them are so messy and make such bad decisions and i'm living for it <3 #also im almost sure there will be an eddie pov chapter after this so let's hope i don't forget this moment and his thoughts here lmao #tbh I'm about to have a stressful day in two days and I'm already stressing out and can't really focus on writing #but also need it to distract me lol #fic: got a girl at home (but I love the way you taste)#fic snippet #buddie #buddie fic #buddie wip #wikiangela writes #my writing #my wips #also writing two bucktommy fics rn that take more of my attention than this ngl lol i'll be fully back to it soon tho haha

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asilentsongbird · 9 months

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ever thought about a love triangle between yan childe and yan neuvillette 🫣?????? imagine y/n being married to neuvillette—and tbf i think being married to him would be miserable…considering the circumstances (it’s less a marriage and more like eternal imprisonment), so the thought of betraying neuvillette gives you some semblance of control. it’s just, no one expected you to betray him with the 11th fatui harbinger…

I LOVE this for the simple fact that I think y/n would not understand how peaceful life is with Neuvillette until Childe takes them on.

Neuvillette is old. He's lived hundreds of years and he's insanely powerful and well liked. Sure, marriage to him is like a prison sentence, you're never leaving him, but at least he lets you wander the city and have hobbies. He's patient.

Childe though, Childe knows just enough to put on a prince charming persona and convince you that there's more out there. Sure, more means being his wife and being his pretty little thing, but you already do that with Neuvillette, surely it can't be any more difficult, right?

Childe convinces you to leave with him, to escape late at night when the timing is perfect. A bit of hope rises in you at the thought of being free, but Childe isn't going to take you to Mondstadt, the nation of freedom.

Life with him ends up being nothing like you dreamed it would be. Everything about Childe stays the same, but any agency you had before has vanished into thin air. He doesn't let you out of whatever apartment he's got set up for you on his latest mission. Childe is convinced that all of your thoughts should be about him, him, him.

It's harder to escape Childe than it ever was to leave Neuvillette. You should feel ashamed as you manage to make your way back to Fontaine, though you consider going to Mondstadt to truly gain your freedom.

But at least with Neuvillette, you have protection from a Harbinger. With Neuvillette, if you're found by him you're most likely just going to get a lecture and a light punishment.

With Childe, if he finds you, you're certain that you'll never see the light of day again.

#yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere neuvillette #yandere childe #genshin impact x reader #I feel like I did childe so dirty here but he's so unhinged all the time and I can't just not write that #childe my baby boy I'll give you your own post soon

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osaemu · 1 month

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so uh funny story guys. i lost interest in anime men

#sabs posts!#took me a while to figure out why i stopped writing #turns out it's not writing i lost interest in #but the men i write about LMFAO #idk i've been growing out of it for a while #i guess it finally settled in #i don't really know what to do with this information now #a couple months back i couldn't imagine going w/o tumblr for a day lol #and now it's like whatever #i'll make an official post on what i decide to do in a bit #but for now here's an update on the guy i was talking to #i uhhh ghosted him #cuz he's hot but has no personality #and i don't wanna talk to someone who i'm not really into #oh well #anyways #see ya guys soon #edit: also what r these boop things

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domsaysstuff · 1 year

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Steve's kindness is, like all self-taught one, a mirage of borrowed expressions, a collage of habits picked from people he loved, a bit stilled but eager and well-meaning, sometimes a bit chopped at the sides, a growing want to let the good feelings out in front of the right people.

Eddie liked to sometimes watch him and find all the signs of other people in him, try to match them up to right people.

He would watch and think - this is Nancy's stubbornness to never give up on people and Dustin's loyalty, he would see him trying to give advice to Dustin and see Johnathan's akward pep-talks to Will. The way he would always try to have snacks for the kids screamed both Joyce's and Mrs. Henderson motherly kindness. His willingness to sit in silence, a steady presence, when somebody needed it shined with Will's warmth. How he fights for the people he cares about, letting his meaness be a defense for them all, a barier and a shield similar to Max's snark.

And whenever he found himself to be the matching person? It made him feel loved, so fucking loved and seen that he would choke on it.

Eddie sometimes would make a game out of it, to found the matching puzzle whenever Steve's kindness shone (and it was a lot of the time). It was always someone from the party and he would always find himself with a strange fond warmth whenever he realized who it was. And usually he was good at it, it wasn't really hard when he loved and knew all those people too

There were exceptions though. The first one was Robin and it wasn't for the lack of Eddie's knowledge and love for her and moreso because of the whole RobinandSteve being always so SteveandRobin, never really separate. Whatever was Steve's was also Robin's, their clothes, habits or sometimes even their smiles shone in the same way. They were mismatched in a funny melted together sort of way, his kindness was her and hers was his and it was hard to difference between the two when even they didn't know where one ended and the other began, they traded traits like they traded clothes, wore them bright pink socks with yellow soft sweater, a joke to cheer you up with a soft you can tell me anything in the same breath.

He didn't really knew whose kindness it was the innate one that must have been deep within Steve before he let it shine or Robin's. He didn't think it would really matter anyway, they would trade it between themselves like shiny cards anyway.

The other one was a smile. An unique one, one that Eddie swore he saw somewhere before and that lacked the freckles and a missing teeth except noone in the party had these two traits, at least not as Eddie knew them and he could never find that one puzzle. It was boyish and full of mischief, usually with a starry reflection in Steve's eyes.

The last one was a lift in his tone, the way he would make his voice honey-like sweet when he tells Robin her new haircut suits her or El's new shirt brought out her eyes. The intonation always made Eddie think of bubble gum and sugared summers.

He couldn't place the last two to nobody. At least not until Steve told him about Tommy Hagan and Carol Perkins.

Obviously Eddie knew about them, but Stevie didn't talk about how they are. But how they used to be.

"Sweet." he said while passing the joint they shared laying on Eddie's bed, pressed from shoulders to their ankles. "Carol used to be sweet, warm with the naive love only kids hold" Steve's eyes were looking out the window of Eddie's room, as if he could see the young version of them just outside playing childlish games. "and Tommy used to be wild. But not like bad wild, more like he was always chasing trouble, adventure. Like kids do."

And Eddie couldn't see it, not with how the world twisted them into different people, cruel. More cold, all sharp teeth and autumn's rain.

Except he could, he could in Steve's special smile and the sound of his voice, he could see it and he could see the love that Steve Harrington had for them.

"They're douchebags now," he said when Eddie voiced it out loud "but I did loved them once, sometimes I feel like I've never stopped, they just... Grew out of my love, grew into something I couldn't."

It should be strange, to love something someone isn't anymore, but to Eddie it just spoke of the way Steve Harrington threw himself into love, how he never really stopped loving and caring. It was admirable, it was so lovable and it was so Steve-like. Earnest in the sweetest way.

It made sense that Steve Harrington would love people even through his expression of it.

#idk what this is #i just kept thinking about how at some point Steve must have loved Tommy and Carol #and yeah some relationships are bad and you need to drop the people because they are as*h*les but that doesnt mean the love was never there #or that you don't sometimes feel the ghost of it when you think of them #And I think Eddie - just would watch the people he loves - would observe them and analyze them #cathegorize them or their habbits and expression into something a little cabinets in his mind #this is kind of shitty but oh well i've written it so now i'm bestowing it onto others #i'm trying to get back into writting because my laptop will be hopefully fixed soon and i'll actually could write then #but i cant so for now this ficlet is here #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #platonic stobin #my writing #ficlet #dom's tumblr writing

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oshiawaseni · 11 months

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My sibling, who is an anime only said they would not be surprised if BKDK became canon considering the depth of their relationship, their interactions, and their character development regarding each other ... despite how Bones added in Izuocha scenes and cut out some critical BKDK moments in most of the seasons so far... And, seeing how one-sided the "love" is between Izuocha, which I believe is deep admiration as of reading the manga- I have to say I agree.

Izuocha, is fine on the surface but is unhealthy. Izuku would not pay attention to Ochaco they he would need to if they were in a relationship. And Ochaco only saw "Hero Deku" rather than all of "Izuku", which would cause her to unknowingly encourage Izuku's reckless self-sacrificial behavior.

BKDK is different because not only they know each other beyond the surface level, but they also have their sights on each other and the mere presence of their partner inspires them to become better and stronger people at heart because they have genuine love for each other...

I honestly do not understand what is in the Dudebros' mind other the fact that they are lacking emotional intelligence and critical thinking... but I will just enjoy what they are missing. (Sorry for rambling...)

Hi anon! Sorry it took me a bit to get back to you (reason in tags). Let me just reply to your ramblings with some ramblings of my own :)

I actually really enjoyed Season 6. The only thing I faulted Bones for, was creating that jarring opening that made out like Ochaco was the hero of the retrieve vigilante Deku mission (which sadly only fueled izuochas more on mhatwt), when it was 1000% Katsuki's doing and there is one panel which proves this beyond a shadow of a doubt.

See this? Who is the one standing in front of Shoto and Tokoyami, addressing the whole class? It's Katsuki! Not Ochaco! She was seated with everyone else. This is why it's so frustrating when they say she was the reason Izuku was brought back to U.A. That arc was all about Katsuki's feelings for Izuku and wanting to return his smile.

He was even so worried he lost sleep over it, wondering where Izuku was, if he was okay… he must have stayed awake in bed, thinking and thinking about Izuku and how he could get him back. Katsuki was used to Izuku being by his side, and it was the first time Izuku had willingly left it. It provided him clarity about how important* Izuku was in his life, which only made him worry even more. (*see also: crucial, vital, imperative, watch me emotionally die slowly inside if you aren't around me anymore.)

Katsuki losing sleep, at a time Izuku was not sleeping was such a symbiotic soul mates power move Hori added in for flavour. I love it SOOO freaking much. There are no lengths this man won't go, to prove how in sync they are with each other, how much they need each other, the empathy they share with each other, even on a completely spiritual level where they share in each other's sufferings, *without even knowing it* such as right here, just like Katsuki wants to share all of Izuku's burdens so that he's not crushed by them.

But with that said, though Bones really dropped the ball on the opening (and 5 previous seasons...*ahem*), there were a lot of curious changes that happened in season 6 that I did love, like Izuku dropping the "tachi" in his sentence which turned his line into "He hurt the person I love…" (instead of people)

and as we saw more of these additional changes Bones made, it got us wondering, did Hori have some regrets with the manga that he was unhappy about and wanted their romance to be more obvious? Was it only natural to get anime viewers up to speed before season 7, because they were going to find out through manga spoilers that Katsuki and Izuku are actually in love? I'd like to think so.

Changes I remember off the top of my head:

Reaching out for little Izuku's hand during Katsuki Bakugou Rising

Katsuki waking up and thinking "Deku…" and remembering his Rising sacrifice and being still hurt from it.

Izuku waiting until he was in Katsuki's arms before he apologised, which made their words of "I'm sorry" and "I know" more intimate and personal to each other. Like Izuku needed Katsuki's forgiveness the most, and Katsuki needed to let Izuku feel that he understands him the most.

Izuku's little "Ka-..." (the English dub did not catch it but I know other dubs did) as he was passing out, which made the entire hug scene feel so much more romantic.

"I'm gonna say your name when I wake up" vs "I'm gonna say your name when I fall asleep." BkDk: Always on each other's minds. All the time.

And one of the most interesting changes of all…

So get this, Ochaco gets a hand hold grab in the opening which canon-wise holds about as much weight as an "illustration" … and in the actual anime content, she grabs his wrist area instead of his hand like in the manga. Making her hand hold IN THE CANON CONTENT so impersonal. Almost as if to make up for the horrible opening they made. Why this was done still remains a mystery to us today… but I hope it's because Horikoshi asked them to make Izuocha stop being seen like a couple, and more like the friends they are.

And then, about the "brothers" "friends" comments antis love to make about bkdk. Well yeah, they're coping. In fact, Hori has shied away from labeling them friends several times when he could have! "Midoriya-kun is our friend" says Iida - with multiple people from the class, including Ochaco, presented in the panel… and Katsuki is nowhere to be found.

Or like when sAFO called Katsuki "Izuku's closest person" (motto mo naka ga ii) where it would have been WAY more natural to call him "shinyu," aka, "best friend." But that's the thing, Hori runs away from calling them friends like it's the plague LMAO

Really makes you wonder… was sAFO (I'd rather just call it AFO at this point because it's his personality being dominant vs Katsuki) alluding to hidden romantic feelings Izuku hides for Katsuki that his secret gaydar quirk picked up? Could be. In a way, at the time it happened, it felt to me like Horikoshi himself was talking to us through him, telling us very explicitly, "You're damn right. They're gay."

Either way, skirting around this label for them is being done on purpose by Hori. Like his hidden way of saying "Yeah they might be acting a bit more like the best friends they were always meant to be as kids, but their feelings for each other are not 'friendly' AT ALL. Because platonic friendship is not where these two are headed." And there are STILL hidden feelings they haven't managed to say to each other yet! The content Horikoshi has been itching to draw for YEARS that he is finally getting to. All that soft bkdk romance we've been waiting for is coming SO SOON!!! and I am HERE for it anon! 🔥

2023 will forever be known as the year of BkDk canon... these are very exciting times. <3

#asks #bkdk canon #kana writes #bakudeku #I had to write this almost completely twice over bc tumblr editor decided to delete my whole post XD fun (and I was so frustrated I'm sorry #this ask was getting a bit long so I will stop here but all your ramblings about bkdk were true anon you got a good understanding of them!#togachaco anon I'll try to briefly answer you soon but look for my togachaco meta it's not that far down on my blog - though...#my feelings are still a bit conflicted now because #I am coming around to the jealousy/envy theory as well so it's anyone's guess however what I will say is that OCHACO HAS REALISED THINGS #and those things WILL be revealed #And it's most definitely not going to be she's got a crush on Izuku #but I will write about what I WANT to see happen soon as a lover of shoujo myself :D (it just might not be what will actually happen...)

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v-thinks-on · 11 months

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Phoenix is nudged into awareness by the feeling of someone stirring underneath him. He’s sprawled across the wine red sheets, with Miles Edgeworth pinned underneath his heavy, sleep-laden limbs, awake and struggling to extricate himself.

Phoenix frantically retreats to his side of the bed. This wasn’t exactly what he imagined for their first morning together - he’s not even sure that it really counts.

Miles recomposes himself after being nearly crushed, but to Phoenix’s surprise, he stays lying in the center of the bed - it is his bed, after all - half-curled toward Phoenix. He won’t meet Phoenix’s eyes, but he hasn’t turned away either. Phoenix is hopeful that Miles’s expression is awkward, not annoyed, but it’s hard to tell.

“Miles…?” Phoenix says cautiously.

“I didn’t mean to wake you up.” Miles doesn’t sound too pleased about it.

“I didn’t give you much of a choice.”

“I-I wasn’t trying to get up… just get comfortable,” Miles mutters so quietly Phoenix isn’t sure he hears it right.

Phoenix can’t tell if the pink tinge on Miles’s cheeks is a reflection from the red sheets or a blush.

“Oh,” Phoenix says.

Before he has a chance to try to figure out where to go from here - what wouldn’t be too much - Miles abruptly brushes his hand across Phoenix’s cheek, only to pull it away just as quickly.

“Ngh. How did you do it so smoothly?” Miles demands.

Phoenix bites back a laugh. “I, uh…”

Instead of trying to come up with an answer, he gently reaches out to cup Miles’s cheek. His skin is warm and soft, and Phoenix is pretty sure that is a blush. Miles’s expression immediately softens as he leans into the touch, probably without even knowing he’s doing it, but there’s still a crease in his brow. Phoenix trails his fingers across Miles’s forehead to brush aside some stray hairs, in soft disarray from the night’s sleep.

“That’s how,” Phoenix concludes with what he admits is probably a smirk, his hand lingering at Miles’s cheek.

With a determined expression, Miles reaches out toward Phoenix’s face and brushes aside the stay hairs on Phoenix’s forehead, and then he runs his fingers fleetingly down Phoenix’s cheek.

On an impulse, Phoenix catches Miles’s hand before he can pull away entirely. Maybe Phoenix shouldn’t be surprised that Miles’s muscles, from his fingers to his palm, are all taut with tension that probably never goes away, though his obvious nerves probably don’t help. Still, Miles lets Phoenix intertwine their fingers, like a subtle embrace. He wonders if it’s Miles’s heart he can feel racing, or just his own.

It takes longer than Phoenix expects before Miles turns away again, flustered. “W-we should probably-”

Phoenix can’t help but be a little disappointed, but he disentangles their hands without complaint. “How about some breakfast?”

“It’s almost noon.”

“What do you mean, almost noon?” Phoenix can only wonder how long Miles has been awake. “Lunch then?”

“I can make us something.”

That’s not exactly what Phoenix had in mind, but he can’t exactly make Miles breakfast - or lunch - in bed, when he’s stuck hobbling around on crutches.

They’re still both a little reluctant to get out of bed, but eventually they can’t excuse delaying any longer, and Miles helps Phoenix up. Phoenix wonders if it’s just his imagination that Miles is a little handsier than usual and his touch lingers a little longer. By the time they’re both dressed and ready, it’s after noon.

Phoenix hobbles after Miles into the kitchen and sits down at the bar. “When my foot’s better, I promise I’ll do all the cooking and cleaning for a month.”

Miles pauses mid-step, and Phoenix belatedly realizes what he just suggested.

“You don’t have to,” Miles says, without looking at him. “I’ll have to help out anyway so you don’t mess up my kitchen.”

“Hold it!” Phoenix says on principle, but he’s not sure it’s actually a no.

“Objection overruled,” Miles says as he crosses the kitchen.

“You’re not the judge!”

“It’s my kitchen.” Miles smirks like he knows he’s won the case.

Phoenix has some impulse to kiss away Miles’s smirk, but he’s all the way on the other side of the room, and things are going so well, Phoenix is hesitant to push his luck.

#v writes #outtake #Ace Attorney #Phoenix Wright #Miles Edgeworth #WrightWorth #NaruMitsu #another scene I ended up dropping from In Defense of the Guilty #there's another scene I'll be posting as its own fic soon (and a few more that have been recycled into another fic also coming soon)#this one doesn't really work on its own but I couldn't leave it to molder in the scrap heap #I'm surprised I didn't post it with the other outtakes #I'm still here and still writing!

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elysianymph · 1 year

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read through my newest wip again instead of studying physics. enjoy this snippet of regulus panicking:

“Why are you…” Regulus trails off, swallowing the lump in his throat, “shirtless?”

James raises his eyebrows like he hadn't noticed he was walking around flashing his built chest and wide shoulders and making everyone drool at the sight of him. He looks down at his naked torso and up at Regulus again with a sheepish smile. “Oh, I lost my shirt,” he says with a shrug like it's no big deal, like he hadn't just helped Regulus’ mind create a fantasy he will be thinking about for the next two weeks.

“You lost your shirt?” Regulus repeats dumbly as he commands his eyes to stay focused on James’ face lest he look like a complete idiot drooling over James Potter who has a girlfriend. A really nice, pretty girlfriend. Said girlfriend also wears peach scented lip gloss and Regulus is dying to know if it tastes like the fruit too. Oh, right- James!

“Yeah,” James nods, “I brought it here with me but someone must've taken it while I was showering. I swear I had placed it on the bench over there, but well… it’s not there anymore.” He gives Regulus another smile, scratching the back of his neck.

#when it's time to simp over james potter you know the squad is here #lily 🤝 me 🤝 regulus #idk if i ever actually mentioned i was writing this #but it's based on that oblivious reg prompt #and it's gonna be pretty short so i'll probably finish it and post it soon #AND IT HAS A NAME #fic: be still my foolish heart (don't ruin this on me)#of i titled it with a hozier song 💀#jegulily #jegulus #regulus black #james potter #marauders #marauders era

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harmonysanreads · 8 months

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I can take her.

#i am so sick but that is NOT an excuse to miss out on this #and neuvillette... :(((#who hurt you gramps i'll throw hands for you #WRIOTHESLEY AEDTGHIIOKHTED #he's enabling too many unholy thoughts dear god #i'll be active here as soon as i get well i promise #not being able to write down these brainrots is AGONY #harmony simps #harmonysan.txt #genshin impact #fontaine #arlecchino #genshin

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thetomorrowshow · 3 months

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scars

empires superpowers au masterlist (not up to date)

i have no clue where this idea came from but here *hands you a tattooed jimmy*

this takes place about 8 months after then end of ‘poisoned rats’.

cw: past abuse, mentions of needles, scars

“Look at that one,” Jimmy points at the screen; Scott pauses in his scrolling. “It’s a poppy. You love poppies.”

“. . . I do,” Scott says, glancing at Jimmy quickly before resuming the scroll.

“That one’s a flag, but it could be a pride flag. That’s why I saved it. The birds are a bit cheesy, but I thought I’d include them anyway.”

Scott doesn’t say anything, just keeps scrolling through the document. He knew Jimmy had been researching something, but . . . he hadn’t been expecting this.

Before him, on Jimmy’s laptop, is a three-page document that is a collage of tattoos.

Some are better than others—there’s a celtic knot that looks pretty bad, and Jimmy’s right about the birds being cheesy, but the poppy is understated and delicate, and a cute cartoon cat makes him smile.

That’s all well and good, but the problem is: Scott has no clue why Jimmy is showing him tattoos.

Jimmy points at a bundle of stars, saying something about how it reminded him of Scott, then at a feather, then a ladder, which he explains could be combined with the stars. He quickly passes over an abstract canary, hands twitching and tripping over his words, to point out an intricate subway car, then a tiny soccer ball.

Scott interrupts right as Jimmy starts to explain an iceberg tattoo.

“Jimmy, I—this is great, but I don’t think I understand. Are you wanting me to get a tattoo?”

Jimmy blinks, laughs nervously. “I—Scott, these are—these are cover-ups. For scars.”

Oh.

Suddenly, there’s a lump in Scott’s throat.

“I—a tattoo is a big decision,” Scott manages to say around the lump, his eyes catching on a long scar down Jimmy’s left bicep. “It’s something you can’t change. Are you sure?”

Jimmy levels an exasperated look at him. “For one thing, I’m an adult. I know it’s a big decision, you don’t have to remind me. And I promise I’ve thought about this. I shouldn’t have to tell you that I have.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” Scott starts to amend, but Jimmy forges on.

“It’s my body,” he says. “It’s mine, and I can have the freedom to do what I want with it, because I’m an adult and it belongs to me. And when you—when you asked if I was sure, it felt like you were treating me like a kid, or like I don’t own my body. And it felt bad.”

Shame curls in his stomach. Jimmy’s right, he shouldn’t have responded like that. It’s perfectly normal for people to get tattoos, and for their partners to support them in it. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes again. “I didn’t think before speaking. I said something my parents would’ve said, and I should have considered what you just told me.”

Jimmy smiles, leans his head against Scott’s shoulder. “It’s fine. I was showing you because I wanted your opinion, and it’s all right if you don’t like the idea of a tattoo. But I would’ve liked for you to say that outright if that’s true, instead of telling me things I already knew.”

“No, I think it’s a great idea,” Scott hurries to amend. He pauses, taking a moment to get his thoughts in order. They’re working on having more open conversations, so that they don’t have repeat events of Scott’s Nightmare Situation of Last Month, as they’ve dubbed it. “I think a lot of tattoos are good,” he says eventually, “but some suck. So I’m happy you’re asking my opinion, because I don’t know if I’d be able to look my boyfriend in the eyes if he got a skull surrounded in roses on his bicep.”

That gets a laugh out of Jimmy. “Don’t think yours is the only opinion I’m getting,” he teases. “I know better than to trust a man who dyed his hair red all through college.”

“It looked good!”

They look at tattoos for a little while, Scott immediately vetoing the trio of birds and a guitar. Together, they separate the pages into ‘no’ ‘maybe’ and ‘yes’ images, dragging the little Darth Vader holding a lightsaber (a scar being the lightsaber) into ‘maybe’ and the celtic knot into ‘no’ and so on, until about half of the tattoos have been sorted.

And if they get distracted halfway through and end up making out right there on the couch? Well, they can always finish it later.

Three weeks later, Jimmy exits the tattoo parlor with the long, thin scar on his left bicep covered by a poppy, red and irritated from the procedure. Scott had been with him the whole time, holding his hand. They’d had to call for a break halfway through, but it had overall gone very well, and Jimmy had gotten into the passenger seat with a huge grin on his face.

“I thought I would be scared of the needle, but it wasn’t even that bad!” Jimmy says excitedly, twisting his arm around to check out the plastic-wrapped tattoo. “Did you hear when she said I was really good at staying still, especially for my first time? I’m going to get a good grade in tattoos, which is both normal to want and possible to achieve.”

Scott laughs out loud at the meme reference, resolving not to think about why it is that Jimmy’s so good at not moving while needles are stuck into him.

“Do you like it?” Scott asks instead, adjusting the rearview mirror before shifting the car into gear.

Jimmy doesn’t answer for a long moment. When Scott glances over at him, he’s let his arm fall, staring straight ahead, chewing thoughtfully on his lip.

“Yeah,” he decides eventually. “I really do. Now when I look at it in the mirror, I can be reminded of you instead of them. And . . . I can make choices with my body. That feels really good.”

“I can imagine.”

Jimmy twists his arm around again, peering at what little of the tattoo can be seen through the plastic. “I like it,” he says, quieter. “Do you like it?”

“It was my top choice, Jimmy,” Scott reminds him. “And it looks cute on you. Much better than that fish would.”

Jimmy snorts. “You know what, since it was Lizzie’s idea, I’ll tell her I’ll only get it if she gets it too.”

“Please—if you get fish, get a different one,” begs Scott. “It was huge, it had that horrible ‘gone fishing’ sign—get something cute, not something that screams fifty-year-old midlife crisis.”

That gets a laugh out of his boyfriend, and a little tension that had been in Scott’s body since before the appointment finally dissipates, allowing his shoulders to ease and his fingers to loosen their grip on the wheel.

“I’ve been watching videos on word cover-ups, so I think I might get one of those,” Jimmy says when they’re almost home. “I’m . . . I think it would help, even though I can still trace the letters. But I’d like to try scar treatment first, so I don’t think I’m gonna get another tattoo any time soon.”

“And here I was thinking my boyfriend was about to get all inked up and awesome,” Scott teases.

“And something for words would have to be really big, and there’s not much I want that’s good for that,” Jimmy continues. He glances at Scott quickly, then turns his gaze out the window. “That’s life, I guess.”

Scott thinks that’s the end of the conversation. He’s happy leaving it there, with vague plans and ideas in mind to experiment with.

But later that evening, at home, as Jimmy washes dishes and Scott dries them, Jimmy blurts out, “Would I be wrong for wanting a canary tattoo?”

Scott pauses. “Um. No?”

Jimmy sighs. “See, it’s the only one that I think I would want that’s big enough and colorful enough to cover any words. But I don’t know that I could be okay with having it cover up one of those words, because of . . . connotations. But also. . . .” he sighs again, sets down his dishcloth.

“Scott, being the Canary was the only freedom I had, as awful as it was,” Jimmy explains, and it’s a credit to how far he’s come that Jimmy’s voice doesn’t even shake. “I didn’t love it, but I could go outside. I could literally fly. And I looked pretty cool, honestly. So if I got another tattoo, I think it would be a canary, but . . . I’m afraid that’ll cause more harm than good, with my mental health and all.”

“I . . . don’t know,” Scott says honestly, sliding a plate into place in the cupboard. “I’m not in your head. And it’s not my body. But you don’t have to decide today. You don’t have to decide any time soon. You can talk about it with other people, and with Nora. And we can start looking into scar treatment, if you think you’re ready for that.”

Jimmy picks up the cloth again, runs it under the water. “I don’t know,” he says eventually, voice unreadable. His face has set back into that guarded look, the one that Scott is now so familiar with. “Maybe.”

Whatever Jimmy’s unspoken other concerns are (and Scott knows that they exist, he can tell in the tenseness of his stance), Jimmy abandons that topic of conversation. He doesn’t bring up tattoos again for weeks.

But every so often, Scott catches him admiring the poppy, and he can’t help but feel a bubble of happiness.

Jimmy finally has a good reason to look in a mirror.

#empires smp #empires smp fanfic #flower husbands #jimmy solidarity #scott smajor #021324 #yep you guessed it! im still away #if im back i'll announce it/delete these tags etc #knowing my life schedule and all that i think i'll finally feel up to coming back soon-ish #but like. as of writing these tags it is december of 22 #so take everything i say with a grain of salt #how do we feel about tattooed jimmy?#i legitimately have no idea where this came from. just all of the sudden i was researching cover-ups #and here we are #i found such pretty canary tattoos #and i think it's accurate of jimmy to be conflicted about a tattoo of a canary #bc again: canary meant freedom for him limited as it was #and that was a big part of his life that he kind of wants to commemorate #it changed everything some good some bad. jimmy's going through a part of his healing where he kind of wishes it was still happening #just bc like. a. it was easier to understand and b. now that it's this far away he feels sometimes like he's faking #like it wasn't that bad. and he wants to know that it was bad. he's trying to heal but doesnt want to let go of the hurt #bc if he covers up all the scars or they all heal then where's the proof that he went through anything at all?#somebody tell me to stop projecting #lmk what you think!#love you guys

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wikiangela · 5 months

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fuck it friday 🎄

tagged by @thewolvesof1998 💖

wasn't sure about posting this bc I don't wanna share like everything I have so far but it's fuck it friday so fuck it lol I'm too excited to keep it to myself haha - here's more of the christmas fic and the main idea behind it (I said it's gonna be mostly silly and fluffy and I promise it will be, just gotta add a little more sad while buck talks about his childhood lol)

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His eyes don’t leave the screen, while Eddie’s are glued to Buck’s face. “Well, there’s a lot of things I always wanted to do with my family on Christmas, but never got to.” his voice gets even quieter. “But there’s one thing in particular. I, uh, that’s so stupid.” he chuckles quietly, then nods to the screen, where a kid is opening a gift with a bright smile, his family surrounding him. “I wanted this.” he admits quietly, as if embarrassed. He never told Eddie much about his life growing up, but based on everything Eddie knows about his parents, he can imagine it wasn’t great. He never asked, not wanting to pry, but now Eddie wonders what Buck’s Christmas must’ve looked like, especially after Maddie moved out. He must’ve been miserable, and Eddie’s heart is breaking just at the thought.

“It’s not stupid to want a happy holiday with a loving family.” he says softly, carefully. Buck shakes his head, the red in his cheeks now visible despite the dark.

“I mean, that too, I- I never got this, and I always wished- but not just that.” another shake of his head. “I mean, the sweaters.” he mutters under his breath.

“Christmas sweaters?” Eddie asks, not sure if he heard right, just because of how quiet Buck said it.

“I know, it’s dumb. I just always imagined sitting around in matching sweaters, as a family, taking pictures, looking like we belong together, like I- like I belong.” he adds, turning his head away, so Eddie can’t see his face. Eddie reaches his hand further, touching Buck’s shoulder.

“They couldn’t give you matching Christmas sweaters?” he asks incredulously, fighting not to raise his voice.

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no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @gaydiaz @diazass @thebravebitch @silentxxsoul @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @arthursdent @diazblunt @911onabc @spagheddiediaz @housewifebuck @gayhoediaz @rogerzsteven @watchyourbuck @monsterrae1 @honestlydarkprincess @underwater-ninja-13 @eowon @weewootruck @loserdiaz @evanbegins @steadfastsaturnsrings @ladydorian05 @malewifediaz @pirrusstuff @theotherbuckley @911-on-abc @hoodie-buck @wildlife4life @fortheloveofbuddie @nmcggg @diazpatcher @jeeyuns @jesuisici33 @lover-of-mine @jamespearce9-1-1 @giddyupbuck @spotsandsocks @daffi-990 @exhuastedpigeon @disasterbuckdiaz @buckaroosheart @hippolotamus @king-buckley

#fuck it friday #fic snippet #buddie #buddie fic #buddie wip #wikiangela writes #my writing #my wips #buddie christmas fic #or more like buddie christmas sweaters fic but anyway lol #don't ask what christmas movie they're watching it's all made up lmao #me: i'll keep it vague for now to figure out how to phrase it the way i want to and how to make it make sense #also me: here's every single thing I've written for this bc im too excited and have no self control lol #(still not sure it makes sense but im having fun haha)#getting so excited about my fics i can't keep them to myself is so on brand lmao (jess saw this snippet as soon as i finished it <3 haha)#i might mix it up and share some cheating fic on sunday tho haha

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