#enough to write a fic? maybe

[callsign-daydream]

Cyclone: Four hours is the most time I’ve ever spent alone with another human, and it was the worst experience of my life. Maverick: What about that time we drove to LA and back together? That was about four hours! Cyclone: … Maverick: Oh.

#top gun maverick #top gun incorrect quotes #original: brooklyn nine nine #beau cyclone simpson #pete maverick mitchell #all the b99 quotes this week! #mav and cyclone on a road trip cracks me up #enough to write a fic? maybe

[linddzz]

Latest idea floating around in my head: a twist on the Hob saving Morpheus from the time-out ball, except that's where they first met each other.

Hob's still immortal, it's just that Death was the one who came and gave him the deal of meeting every 100 years

(is this also bc I'd love Death being Hob's centennial buddy? Her being way less reserved and straight up telling him who she is. Her delight at his delighting over life. The rage in him when Eleanor and Robyn die. Death took them and she wouldn't even say anything to him when she did it. Also I'd like to see him just immediately choke and squirm like a bastard as soon as he starts explaining his new shipping business to her in 1789. Yes and hell yes gimme Hobsie and Death as bros.)

So Hob is trying out new stuff again. He's never tried out being a magus and gets himself in as a member of Burgess' order and eventually an acolyte.

And then he's introduced to the "devil" that Burgess keeps in the dungeon. He's to help study up on strengthening the wards around the sphere and all that. And boy is he deeply, super uncomfortable with the sight of this frail man trapped in a cage.

("Don't let his pretty face fool you." Burgess will tell him, "the thing is a demon who would destroy us all if given half a chance."

To be fair, Morpheus does not help his case at all and his expression clearly says "you fuckin bet I will")

And Hob is Hob. So while he's working on studying up on wards (which so happens to involve a lot of careful, detailed study of the wards around the sphere) he's chatting at the thing in it. He complains about the boss, talks about the War, tells the demon about his day while the demon either glares at him or makes a hilariously big show of not paying attention. Sometimes Hob straight up shirks work (with a winking "you won't tell the boss right?") And just reads books.

And he nearly shrieks in surprise when he's reading some new novel called The Hobbit out loud and looks up to find the demon watching and obviously interested. So of course Hob is gonna keep reading him stories and keep studying those binding spells super closely.

And ok that's where I gotta admit the story doesn't have a solid conclusion in my head yet (besides obviously Hob is gonna bust Dream out and then get kissed a LOT) but I do have one bit where Morpheus first talks to him and of course it's just cryptic weird shit. Because Morpheus has started watching this shit-wizard who won't shut the fuck up back and can tell that something is OFF about him.

So just imagine Hob is yammering away about how he thinks the masters kid and the gardener have something going on, and he nearly shits himself when the "demon" presses a hand against the glass and says

"Death has touched you. I see it now. My siblings marks upon you. Is that what you are here for? To report to them? To let them see how low their family has come? So they do know what has come of me then, and they have sent you to chatter away and truly make it clear that they will do nothing."

Hob's just like. "WHAT?? SIBLINGS?! You TALK??! Hang on you know Death???!" But Morpheus already is back to curling in on himself in a furious pissy sulk

#dreamling #fic cooking #i imagine after Dreams outburst theres a lot more talking going on #idk if i have this fleshed out enough to fully write i just liked the idea of Hob reading Tolkien to the thing in the ball #and Morpheus being wooed with stories #the tension is ruined by me knowing that all it took was smearing the circle kdjfkd #maybe Hob purposely falls asleep to let Morpheus get out via his dreams

[crybaby-bkg]

Gojo has always been a bit of a glutton. it’s his worst trait, you think, despite the many others that he inflicts upon you in your daily life. but, it’s just not enough for you. he does that with everyone, this kind, funny, flirtatious kind of banter. getou tells you he’s different with you, shoko makes note of how he’s really not like that with so many people.

but it’s not enough. so you start cooking up different things, these desserts intertwined with a certain potion that’ll make his attention be on solely you. you crush your flowers and sprinkle them into the boiling pot, sprinkle in a little bit of this and a dash of that, before you cut off a tiny piece of your hair and let it flutter into the concoction. it doesn’t let out a tuft of pink smoke in the shape of a heart, but you have faith that it’s gonna work.

“I’ll give you a piggyback ride if you let me have that,” Gojo tries to barter with you the next day he sees you, sitting under a tree and unwrapping the piece of cake that you had oh so conveniently whipped up. you pretend to think it over, unable to help your smile as you think about how easy this is going to be, before agreeing.

it happens over time, the effects of the love potion. first, Gojo becomes a bit more clingy. he hurries across campus to make sure that he’s able to walk you back to your apartment, carries all of your bags for you. then he starts buying you all sorts of things that you don’t necessarily need (do you want breakfast?, do you need a new laptop?, can I buy you a new bed?, can we break it in?).

and everything is great at first. you adore the attention, the grandeur way he asks you to be his partner, how he moves you in quick, loves you even quicker. but, after a while, it just becomes a bit…much.

his love is never ending, which shouldn’t be a bad thing, but his love is also—everything. it’s in every crevice of your body, every nook and cranny between the walls, every exhale you take. he’s there—always just there—always just close and lingering and clingy (where are you going? can I come with you? why are you looking at me like that? don’t you love me? I love you, I love you so much, so where are you going?)

it’s not until you’re suffocating that you realize your mistake, all too late. Gojo is all encompassing, takes up all the space in your head and your line of vision and your breaths and the blood that flows in your veins. he loves you—this was what you wanted, right?—but you never wanted this, this obsession that bleeds from his very being every second that he’s near you, which is every second of every single fucking day. you never wanted any of this.

“Baby?” Gojo calls from the other side of the locked door, clawing at it like some forlorn house cat even though you know he could take it down if he so pleased. “Are you almost finished? I miss you,” his voice is a plead, as if his heart is shriveling up in his chest with every second he’s not pressed against you.

with a sigh, do you finally lift yourself from the corner of the bathroom floor, unfolding your limbs with a groan. you don’t dare look at yourself in the mirror, fearing the image of the hollowed person that is bound to stare back at you. with hesitation, do you finally unlock the door. you don’t even have to pull it open before Gojo is barging his way in, engulfing you in long arms that seem to wrap around you like some never ending boa constrictor.

“You’d never try to leave me, right? Because you love me so much.” Gojo says into your hair, his voice one that tries to convince you of its truth. and there is some there, along with the guilt of ruining him in this grotesque way that you have no other choice but to accept and live with until it suffocates you.

“Yeah.” your murmur, sinking into his body, let him hold you so close, you think you can feel his veins pulling at his skin to intertwine with your own. “Yeah, I love you, Satoru.”

(he doesn’t dare tell you that he knew all about that little potion you whipped up, how it never had any actual affect on him for more than just a couple hours. but this was what you wanted, right? for him to love you? so why not continue to just love you in his own way that’s somehow, convincingly, all your fault? why not let you take the blame for his greediness? you wanted this, right? right?)

#sorry if this feels repetitive #it’s my favorite kind of yandere to write 😔 #something about lovesick Satoru that just does it for me #I’ll never get enough of it I fear #okay I’m done writing for the night #the other few ideas in my drafts I want to turn into fics maybe #wait I have another one that’s short I might write that really quick 🏃🏽‍♂️ #—new treat in the streets! 🍫 #gojo treats! 🍬

[redrobin-detective]

Sometimes I’m writing and I’ll type a metaphor or simile, use a certain description, even just putting certain words in a certain order and I’ll know, know, deep in my bones that I used that exact phrase somewhere before and it haunts me

#Drives me most crazy when I write it and cant remember what it was from #only that it was MINE #I have 15 years of fic backlog to pull from #I just wrote a description I absolutely used before #maybe not word for word but close enough #and its driving me CRAZY where is it from

[purpleshadow-star]

Imagine if Nico could learn to control when he turns into shadows.

Like, in The Blood of Olympus Nico would start fading after shadow traveling too much, and sometimes Reyna and Coach Hedge wouldn't be able to touch him, and one time he even accidentally walked through a tree. Imagine if he learned to control that intangibility.

Imagine if he could just turn parts of his body into shadows. Imagine if, in a fight, someone swings at him, and he knows he can't dodge in time, so he turns into shadows for a second so the weapon goes right through him, and while his enemy is confused he uses the distraction to land the final blow.

Imagine if he could just walk/reach through walls and doors and stuff.

I just think that, for someone with the title of ghost king (and as a child of the Underworld), he deserves more ghost-like powers.

#i might write a fic about this 🤔 #we'll see #i just think itd be so cool #he would be the best at a haunted house #and it would be so useful in fights #maybe now that he's taking better care of himself post tsats he'll have enough energy to not get so tired after using his powers #so itll be safer to start experimenting with smth like this #tbh i think nico has the best potential power-wise bc the underworld is so vast so he could potentially have a lot of different abilities #hazel too tbh #like we've seen that nico can control the earth/rocks so i bet hazel has some contol over the dead and she just hasnt really tried yet #but im getting off topic lol #point is i think nico should have the ability to basically become a ghost at will (but not in the dying way) #nico di angelo #riordanverse #rick riordan #heros of olympus #pjo hoo toa

[sihtricfedaraaahvicius]

Take me.

Note: a tiny little story to help with the drought😮‍💨

Warnings: 18+! fluff/smut.

pairing: Sihtric x you (f)

summary: you and Sihtric were reunited after a battle. 

wordcount: 653

Masterlist

Sihtric's mismatched eyes were glazed over. His lips curled into a dazed smile while his rough, warm hands wandered your bare skin as you laid underneath him. His body weight pleasantly pressed onto you as he was positioned between your thighs. His hair was dishevelled, after your fingers had tugged his braids when you felt the warmth of his lips onto yours, kissing you intensely and deeply until he had you undressed and picked up in his arms, carrying you to the bed.

The warrior had missed you, his wife, immensely when he had been away to fight what would be unbeknownst to you both his last battle, for peace was within close range. As soon as he had returned home on horseback and his eyes had landed on you in the cheering crowd, he dismounted and allowed you to leap into his arms. You had buried your face in his neck and your fingers curled around his leather armour. Sihtric; your husband, your sanctuary and the keeper of your heart had returned to you without any grave injuries, and no more time was wasted. No words were spoken for your eyes told each other everything one needed to know, and your lips immediately locked into a fiery kiss, pouring out the happiness and relief of being reunited again.

And now Sihtric gazed down into your eyes as he was on top of you, unclothed and scarcely covered by the warm furs. His hot, ragged breath feelable on your face while his tattooed fingers tenderly brushed over your warm cheeks. He then leaned in and kissed softly underneath your ear, his tongue stroking your skin in between teasing kisses and kittenish nibbles, dragging his lips down to your pulse point. Your breath hitched when he sank his teeth delicately in your neck, marking you with his endless love while he teased your folds with his arousal, readying you to take him after being separated for far too long.

His growls sounded low and heavy in your ear, making you tremble with anticipation and desperate to feel him inside you and to be as close as you can possibly be, never wanting to let him leave you ever again. You wrapped your arms around him and buried your face in his neck, inhaling his earthly scent as he lifted your leg and hooked it around his waist.

'I missed you,' he breathed in your ear and bit the soft skin.

'And I missed you,' you murmured against his shoulder, 'I love you.'

'I love you more,' Sihtric whispered, to which you softly protested.

He chuckled in your ear, and you gasped when he abruptly sheathed inside you and kept still, wanting to feel your walls clench around him. You mewled, desperately, begging him to move. But Sihtric took pleasure in hearing you beg for him and he wanted to hear more before he would give you what you wanted.

'Please, Sihtric,' you rasped, 'give me more.'

'More?' he laughed quietly, his lips grazing your ear as he spoke while he moved with slow, deep strokes, 'you want more?' he murmured.

'Please,' you begged and clawed his muscular back.

'Please,' Sihtric mocked, lovingly, 'you're so sweet when you beg for me,' he whispered and pushed hard inside you.

He stilled inside you again and hummed softly, watching you with a satisfied grin as you almost cried out for him.

'So beautiful,' Sihtric whispered, smiling, and he pecked your lips, 'so desperate for me,' he kissed your lips again, then grabbed your chin and his eyes darkened, 'I will give you more, my love,' his voice soft and playfully threatening, 'but I don't want to hear you whine that it's too much. I know you can handle me,' he murmured against your lips and chuckled again, 'mhm, and you will take me all the way, like the good and devoted wife that you are for me.'

taglist: @foxyanon @alexagirlie @sihtricsafin @neonhairspray @gemini-mama @lexwolfhale @sigtryggrswifey @skyofficialxx @djarinsgirl27 @m-a-s-h-k-a @verenahx @mrsarnasdelicious @diiickbrainn @little-diable @maii777 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @dixie-elocin @elle4404 @bubblyabs @ylvie50 @succnfuccubus @hb8301 @willowbrookesblog @apolloanddaphnis

If you want to be added/removed from the taglist, message me 🖤

#i had a shitty day and a weird mental week #i am going to rearrange my furniture now before i go insane #this may be the only fic i'll post until next week #i'm really struggling atm no matter how badly i want to write.. it's just not working out #surprised i managed to get this written tbh #anyway #sihtric kjartansson #the last kingdom #tlk #sihtric #sihtric x you #sihtric x reader #the last kingdom fic #sihtric fic #idk what the planets are doing rn but can they stop making me feel awful and hating everything i write #and can my adhd demon stop lurking bc i am exhausted. it's that time were even my meds are not working well enough at moments #maybe i need a break #maybe i need a good [censored] #who knows #just make it stop i beg 🥲 #and also those posts that are going around again about reblogs vs likes??? #yeah that's a real mood #part of my struggle atm is hugely influenced by the lack of interaction lately and i hate that it affects me #i just really feel like my writing is shit lately and am constantly comparing it to others #not to be a cry baby lmao i'm just *deep sigh* feel like i'm losing it?????

[koszmarnybudyn]

Ok this is intended with me as its target audience (as all my aus are to be honest). But I just finished tma and this has been stuck in my head for days so i gotta share it. I will elaborate extensivily if asked.

So DADDIES is basiclly the magnus istitute, and these guys are its employees (all intended as like easrly-mid 20s) tho its less archiving/researching and more stopping the monsters, after the mysterious dissapearences of the previous ceos (kiddads and previously the og dads) Willy takes over and hires Scary as the archivist (well not archivist more like investigator or something, but anyway hes trying to groom her to start the apocalypse). This institude is more web/hunt and less eye adjecent. The doodler is still a thing (tho its diffrent cause its the entities). And these guys are trying to survive, earn a living and maybe actually investigate a mystery, as shenanigans and terrors ensue.

#dndads #dungeons and daddies #normal oak #my art #link li wilson #hermie the unworthy #taylor swift dndads #scary marlowe #dndads tma au #yes i know someone else is writing a crossover fic but i wanted my own take it so here it is #you can see me lose effort with the drawings i think lol #hope my writing is easy enough to read as my adhd brain is not writing that down #oh scary is definitly trans here btw they are all queer #the horrors are plantiful but at least they are gay #is there ever gonna be more stuff i make for this au? maybe

[chrisrin]

Confrontation.

#the hermit archives #grian #impulsesv #zedaph #hermitcraft au #impulse is the 'tim' of this universe #but it's a little different.... #i'm so obsessed with this idea #i cannot write fics but i can make mock movie screenshots #and maybe one day that'll be enough for me #chris doodles

[ftmsteveraglan]

i've been imagining creepy obsessed stalker william recently and... hoooo boy.

(creepiness, stalker behavior, and nasty boy william below the cut)

you'd never expect it, either. he seems like a completely ordinary guy whenever you see him. he's kind, pleasant to talk to, cordial towards you. maybe he shows a little favoritism with you over other people, but hey, maybe he's just friendly.

you don't know the full scope of his obsession towards you until you accidentally stumble across his collection. every time you two have met, he's managed to take something from you, whether it be a picture he snapped without you realizing or a piece of jewelry you thought went missing in your car somewhere. the crowning jewel of his collection (more like a shrine built to you, really) is a pair of your underwear he managed to steal from your bedroom after watching your house for weeks. it was difficult to get, but ohhh was it worth it. he gets off to the smell of you just about every night.

but when you confront him about it, he's not ashamed of it. he doesn't see any problem with it at all, and he doesn't know why you would be so upset. can't you see that this is all for you? no one else loves you as much as he does, he's certain of it. come on, sweetheart, let him show you how perfect you are. let him show you how much he really loves you...

#hugfhffhf i love freaky lapdog william who can't get enough of you #this man would be on his knees for you #might turn this into a fic who knows #maybe i'll use this as a plot for one of the t4t william asks in my inbox #and write a separate version for any ladies who want some #william afton #steve raglan #william afton x you #william afton x reader #steve raglan x reader #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #fnaf movie #ftmsr

[newoozi]

your new friend vernon is walking you home one night, telling you all about the date his mom is setting him up on in an attempt to “get out there more”. he admits it’s been a while since he’s taken somebody on a date, and he’s sort of nervous and half dreading it. he doesn’t even have any idea what he’s going to wear.

the two of you reach the front of your apartment building, and you face to look at him. placing your hands on his shoulders you teasingly say, “wear that navy blue polo shirt of yours. it almost makes you look nice.”

he huffs out a small laugh in response, but the truth is he’s sort of spiraling. you notice what he’s wearing beyond an aesthetic sense? do you pay attention to how the shirt fits him perfectly, how it hugs at his chest and shows off his arms? of course, vernon knows he’s attractive — people swoon over him on the daily, and many times he can get away with not paying for ramen at the convenience store if the girl at the counter is young. but, it never crossed his mind that you thought about him in that way. it was different with you, wasn’t it?

he thinks about that, and you, on the way back to his dorm.

you text him to ask about his date the next night, the curiosity getting the better of you.

how was ur date? did she appreciate the polo?

he admits he didn’t wear the polo, but doesn’t offer any explanation as to why. he adds that the date was going fine until they were saying goodbye and she went in for a kiss on the cheek and he held out his hand. he probably won’t see her again.

you laugh out loud at his message.

when it’s your birthday a week later, he wears the polo to the casual dinner you host at your place with your closest friends. he notices when your eyes linger on his lean figure, and the way you blush when you know you’ve been caught. you’re almost sure he’s worn it on purpose.

#he hangs back after everyone’s gone and offers to help with the dishes #you insist that he doesn’t have to #he’s already done enough with the probably expensive gift he got you and taking time out of his busy schedule to be here #but he’s persistent about staying so you let him #he puts on your apron that has little cupcakes on them and they make his chest stand out even more #you want to pull your hair out your scalp #maybe it doesn’t go far that night. maybe he loads your dishwasher and laughs at your jokes and recounts memorable moments from the dinner #maybe you go to bed dreaming of more. #just maybe. #anyways this isn’t anything like. it was an idea i had as part of that long fic of mine that I’ll never get around to writing but anyways. #vernon fluff #vernon x reader #chwe vernon #vernon #like this isn’t an excerpt it’s just… been on my mind that’s all

[the-witchhunter]

Question for the DPxDC crowd

what do you guys actually consider liminal? Like, I genuinely don't know anymore

because early on it was pretty much just Jazz having grown up with ectoplasm in the house for years and in her food, which makes sense, and it was an extremely rare thing

then it got expanded to Sam and Tucker

Then members of the Bat crew that got resurrected by a Lazarus pit(and Dick for some reason? He's never canonically died guys...)

Now it seems to be the entirety of Amity Parkers, All the Bat clan, half of Gotham, Half the Justice Leage, the entirety of the League of Assassins

is it just having come into contact with ectoplasm/Lazarus Pits? Prolonged exposure? Because it's starting to feel like everyone is liminal besides the guys in white for some reason

Like you guys have started using Liminal to basically replace the word "Ecto-contaminated" There is a canon word for the thing you guys have started using liminal to describe

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #it just feels like a cool idea got watered down #everybody is liminal #tim hasn't died guys #Dick hasn't died #it used to be just make people a bit off and unsettling like a cryptid #not a superpower #idk maybe i'm just burnt out on it #like ghost king stuff #legit i have massively reduced my fanfic consumption because of how often some tropes are tossed in randomly #and i get distracted because it doesn't make sense in context unless the thing actually means nothing at all #and it's enough to ruin otherwise excellent fics for me #it's Chekov's gun that never get's fired #more like referencing another fic's chekov's gun #yeah i'm probably just burnt out and am nitpicking a minor bit of bad writing that keeps getting repeated

[ballad-of-the-lamb]

Vague retellings of your AU..

Is there a secret fanfic place we don't know about~?

yes it's called my google docs where it will stay

#munpost #my only writing experience is my 10+ years of roleplaying #this is not fic quality enough to be put on ao3 #and if i do post a fic it'll probably be anonymously and you'll never know it's for my au #maybe i already have posted one. you'd never know.

[thejadecount]

2012 and Rise TMNT Crossover Masterpost

This is more just humor than rather what I feel like would actually happen, but—

Rise Donnie, rolling up to 12 Casey and 12 Donnie with a PowerPoint: Why You Should Just Date Each Other and Get Over April, A Presentation

12 Donnie and Casey would obviously get flustered, but Rise Donnie does not give a shit.

He’s like

“Consider the Following:

1) You’re both too good for her and you know that.

2) You two have more chemistry with each other than either of you have with April. It’s your classic Rivals-to-Lovers trope, must I say more?

3) She clearly has no romantic interest in either of you and is just leading both of you on at this point.

4) It would be really funny.

5) I fully believe you two would be a power couple strong enough to kill God and he is terrified of that so he made up this hetero love triangle bullshit to keep himself alive. And if there’s one thing I know, all of us Donnies would love to finally kill him. Probably Casey too.

6) Your couple name would be like Con or something and I think that’s very telling.

7) Your color scheme is Black and Purple, which we all know is a superior color scheme.

8) I can just keep listing reasons if you really want me too, I can do this all day—“

Eventually Rise Raph manages to pull Rise Donnie away leaving the two very flustered and questioning their sexualities.

Just another day of Rise Donnie causing chaos.

#meanwhile 12 April watches speechless #at the end Rise Donnie stares right into her soul #anyways #yes I am and will always be a 12 casey x donnie shipper #you know what would be funny? #if at the end Rise Donnie was like #‘and you know what? if you don’t ask Casey out I will’ #rise donnie #rottmnt donnie #2012 donnie #2012 casey jones #donnie x casey #casey x donnie #yes I do ship them #Donnie’s simping over a girl that isn’t good enough for him is what’s keeping me from rewatching the series #is this a little bit of 2012 April hate? #maybe #but only the show the fandom writes her great in crossover fics #conatello #would that be their ship name? #casatello #consider this: their ship name would be con #tmnt crossover #crossover with 2012 tmnt #jonatello

[theminecraftbee]

Normally, traitors aren’t frog-marched to the Emperors themselves, regardless of what rank of information they had. These aren’t normal circumstances, though, Techno bemoans to himself. For one, the man is refusing to speak anything but French and a tiny amount of broken Bayesh. For another, on being made, he immediately handed over about three folders of classified information then loudly waited for handcuffs to be put on him.

Phil is lounging in his throne; he’d never been one for propriety. This leaves Techno to be, uh, the actually serious one. The one adorned in uniform, sitting and glowering down. It’s lucky that the traitor isn’t a pigman, because Techno isn’t actually great at glowering, but humans are weird about pigman facial expressions so he should be fine?

The traitor stands before them and grins. In perfect Bayesh, he says: “Finally. It took way too long for you to catch me, bitch.”

Techno pauses. He stares. In Piglish, he barks to his guards: “Everyone out. It’s Leader business.”

They file out. They’ll be waiting outside. Phil straightens in his seat and reaches for his own sword.

Techno, laboriously, drags his hand across his face. He switches back to Bayesh. God, does he regret being fluent in multiple languages sometimes. “What are you doing here, Tommy.”

“Showing you your intelligence weak points, fucker. Do you know how easy it is to slip Bayesh spies in here? I was smooth. A smooth customer. I was hearing classified milkitary secrets—”

“You were caught within two hours,” Techno says.

“That’s—that’s just what you think, innit?” Tommy says. Phil laughs. He’s the real traitor here.

“Tommy. I don’t wanna have to cause an international incident, but I’ve had a really long day, so if you just tell me who hired you to run a spy op, and why you decided it was a good idea to run it yourself, instead of sending one of your experts…”

“No one,” Tommy says.

“Hey, don’t lie you little shit. Techno might not want to start an incident but I don’t care,” Phil says. He grins and holds up his sword. “You wanna wake up in a jail cell and reveal some secrets? We may all be Leaders but it won’t stop torture from hurting.”

“What the fuck, Phil,” Tommy says.

“No one’s torturing anyone. We’ll just bomb them later if we must,” Techno says.

“And I wasn’t lying. It’s—can I take the wig off by the way? It fucking itches.”

“I despise you.”

Tommy takes off the black wig, revealing his blonde hair. “Anyway, I don’t want to work with you guys either, so I figured I’d get your attention by like, acting like we’re enemies and stuff. Got hired for espionage enough back in the day to pick up that much.”

“Who the fuck wanted you as a spy?” Phil asks.

“Fuck you,” Tommy says and doesn’t elaborate.

“Please just tell us what you want,” Techno says. “Please. I can’t handle this much you at any given time.”

“This needs to be Leader to Leader,” Tommy says, and something heavy laces his words. The hairs on Techno’s arms stand up.

“You coulda asked,” he says, in one final desperate bid for normality.

“No, I couldn’t have,” Tommy says. “I think Chip’s dead.”

Techno doesn’t notice that he’s standing until he is.

“What?”

“Yeah,” Tommy says. “Yeah. And, uh, I fucking. Need your help to figure out what happened. Before we get blamed. And I know, politically, you’ve got no reason, but if we don’t figure out—”

Techno sits back down, heavy.

“I know you understand Piglish. Let me talk in my native language. Phil.”

“Yeah, mate?”

“Go get the stuff.”

Phil’s eyes darken. “Right. That. Well, I’ll be back.”

Tommy’s voice, for the first time since Techno met him as a newly-minted Leader, standing on a wooden bench and yelling about executions, is small.

“You believe me?” he says.

“Why else would you come here?” Techno asks. “Not like we like you.”

“Good, because I’m shit at infiltrations. Would have been embarrassing if you, like, didn’t know your enemy well enough to know that,” Tommy says. He’s saying something else underneath it. Techno is neither good enough at Bayesh or at Tommy to guess what.

“Let’s work out an excuse to make a treaty. And you tell me everything.”

#smp earth #WELL THAT'S A TAG I HAVEN'T HAD TO USE IN A WHILE. #a bee fic #anyway have you ever had to excise a story hook that's appeared in your head? #anyway: in which business bay gets framed for murdering chip and unfortunately as much as tommy would like the notoriety #he can't afford to let a guy who could kill chip just run around. also no one believes him. #so he goes to the antarctic empire hoping to ruffle enough feathers to at least get them out of the way #and technoblade immediately goes 'oh god something that incredibly stupid WOULD happen to you. oh no.' #AND THEN THEY ARE FORCED TO WORK TOGETHER TO CATCH THE GODKILLER #for the record. i probably won't write this. #if you're in a certain server with me please ignore how much i've been going 'but i COULD write bedrock bros' recently i PROBABLY WONT #anyway. i thought maybe you all would like this. the worldbuilding is like. ADJACENT to empires earth? with a lot of months in-between #like it definitely has influences from when i was doing the empires earth stuff.

[yaekiss]

꩜ Room Content: GN! Reader x GN! Yan! Sydney the Faithful, no gendered terms used for reader or Sydney, nsfw bulleted point towards the end where reader tops and chokes Sydney, unhealthy relationship from Sydney, worshipping, lmk if I missed out anything ! ꩜ A/N: This is so all over the place my bad LOL anyways some quick thoughts on how yan!Sydney the Faithful would play out, I also have thoughts about how it'd be like once the relationship has corrupted Sydney into their Fallen development but those r thoughts for another day orz...

- Started out as something harmless and cute, you spent so much time with them and you're one of the nicest people they've met in school so far, you’re probably their first crush ever !

- And when you reciprocate their love confession, those euphoric firework feelings never really fizzle out

- As your relationship progresses, you become all they can think about, be it while stamping the overdue books during their morning library counter duties or during mass

- Their eyes wander to where you’re seated at the end of the pew, next to some other initiate. Maybe you’re talking to them, maybe you’re just quietly listening to Jordan, but neither stop a strange new emotion from bubbling up in them

- When they see Jordan push the bread into your mouth, something in them twists. They’re not sure if they want to be the one to gingerly press the bread onto your tongue or if they want you to be the one to do the same to them

- If you took Jordan’s place, would they be able to hold back from enveloping your fingers in their mouth? To stop themselves from savouring you as if you were holier than anything in the temple itself? Sydney has to shake to clear away the thoughts, which catches your eye and, heavens above, what wouldn’t they do to keep your gaze upon them for a second more?

- Also thinking about a Devotion meter that serves as something like Kylar's Jealousy meter

- But unlike Kylar, they're more self-assured in your love for them. If anything, the more you remain steadfast in your relationship with them when others try to steal your attention away, the faster their devotion accumulates. (It’ll be even worse if you had an angel transformation, what’s stopping them from believing you should be worshipped?) 

- Both Sirris and Sydney know about your living circumstances so it's not terribly difficult to convince their parent to let you stay over for a night or two when they come to pick Sydney up at the temple. Besides, Danube street and the orphanage are so close to each other, it’ll be no trouble at all!

- And if they take your hand into their clasped ones in the middle of the night, knelt at the edge of the bed while you’re asleep, feverishly praying for salvation for the both of you, surely you wouldn’t mind

- They find themselves rubbing at their holy pendant a lot more these days when they think about you. (When their thoughts stray into more inappropriate unholy territories, they fantasise about you wrapping the cord of their pendant around your hand to use it as leverage while you pound into them, the sensation of being choked by you might just send them to heaven ♡)

- Perhaps they need to bring you to the prayer room to fully show how much they need to worship you + + Devotion

Thanks for reading! Consider supporting me on kofi if you enjoyed this or check out my other works hehe ♡

#📜.qi writings #📜.qi rambles #yandere #degrees of lewdity #dol #dol x reader #yandere dol #sydney the faithful #dol sydney #dol sydney x reader #yandere dol sydney #yandere x reader #not... super sure if I'm happy w this since it's super rough but then again my bullet point thoughts r meant to be rough ig?? #maybe I'll string this into a fic one day #anyways my dearest dol mutuals feel free to like add on any yan!sydney thoughts <33 #really wanted to bring out the religious kid's first crush gone wrong (gone yan) kind of vibe #idk if it's clear enough #hmm

[maxybabyy]

literally losing my mind over your frat boys au klllllljkkljkllkklljll

please know it has been living in my mind since yesterday, so here's part two, aka what i actually thought about when i saw the original ask (@gaycrunch) ...

part i (re: this)

He finds him outside, hunched over on the porch with his phone in his hand and a half-full bottle of vodka open between his thighs.

“What’s a pretty boy like you doing out here all by himself?” Daniel asks, teases as he drops down to sit next to him. “If only there was a party somewhere, with like, good people and shit.”

Max grunts, barely moves as Daniel hooks his knee over Max’s. He brings the bottle to his mouth, swallows a mouthful of vodka as his free hand comes to rest on Daniel’s knee. “You know already probably, this is why you are here,” he says, digs a finger into the scar on his kneecap, the faded line from when he cut himself on a beer can.

Daniel does, was pulled aside by at least five different dudes who told him where Max had gone, “But I’d rather you tell me, Maxy.”

Max pours another shot into his mouth, keeps the bottle by his lip as he talks. “What even is a rose? This makes no sense, Daniel,” he says, and to his credit, he does sound frustrated. He’s a little drunk too, always is these days when the night falls, but Daniel doesn’t know if it’s cause or consequence.

“It’s an old school thing,” Daniel relents. He steals the bottle from Max’s hands and takes a tiny sip just so he won’t keep drinking. “Reckon I’m plenty sweet for the lot of us, yeah? Don’t need a lady to tell me how to act.”

He didn’t know frats still did this kind of shit, thought they were all past it now, that men could be graceful and charitable too. Hadn’t even thought to mention it to this year’s pledges, but then maybe, Max could have used the lecture anyway.

“Did you really tell her to go suck a bunch of dicks? Because if so, Maxy –“

Max huffs. His leg shakes underneath Daniel’s knee, jostles loose the slide he wears on his foot. “I of course did not say this,” Max says, snappish, taut. “She said she was the best at sucking dick, and I said, ‘this probably is not true’. She showed me this thing she did with her tongue, with her straw you know, and it did not look good, Daniel.”

Daniel chokes down a laugh, relents easily when Max reaches for the bottle again. He watches with unbridled want as Max pretends to suck off the lip of the bottle, interrupted too frequently by his own commentary on the technique.

Daniel reckons he’s right, the tongue is too much, barely touches the bottle at all. Not like Max had done that night, lips heavy around his dick, his tongue firm against the underside of the head.

“So like, you didn’t tell her to suck a dick?”

Max jams his elbow into his side, jolts when Daniel clams his hand around the top of his thigh to keep him in place. “Always this was not – Daniel, I would not say this,” he says, glares at Daniel when he doesn’t relent. “I said maybe that she had to practice more. I have of course sucked a lot of dicks, if she wanted to be like me, then.”

Daniel laughs, loud and surprised, and suddenly Max laughs too.

The Kappa Alphas are dicks anyway. They wouldn’t lose anything if Daniel took them off the social calendar, isn’t really a party if the entire frat can’t go, is it?

“Why didn’t you go home?” He asks after a while. The lid has been put back on the bottle of vodka, and Max has been fed whatever was left in his cup of water.

Two weeks after officially becoming a pledge, Daniel had found Max passed out in a pool of tub juice, white tee soaked in sticky sweet alcohol. He hadn’t vomited – Daniel doesn’t know then if he wouldn’t have just left him there – but Daniel had dragged him upstairs and into the shower. Had scrubbed the marker off his face but left the blue marker in his hair to watch the botched, fucking dip dye his hair had held onto for almost a week.

Max had slept in his bed that night, does it at least every two weeks now, cuddled up between Daniel and the wall. They haven’t fucked since that first time, since Daniel realised Max would be pledging the frat. But sometimes they kiss, and it’s. It feels nice, feels easy, breezy even.

“I have to wait for Carlos,” Max says, shrugs.

Daniel had elected not to pair himself with Max, chose instead one of the legacies who seemed to find power in whatever fucking hazing ritual Daniel threw at him. He kinda regrets it now, knows how shit Carlos must be at this big brother stuff. Knows he left more than an hour ago with Max’s friend from the lacrosse team, apparently without saying shit to Max.

“Nah, Maxy. You’re fine,” he says, squeezes his thigh again when Max hesitates. “Let’s go back to the house, yeah? Maybe Carlos is waiting for you there or like, we can send him a text or something.”

Max doesn’t look convinced, sceptic, like he’s the one who’s on his third year in the frat. But he takes his hand when Daniel gets up, pulls him to his feet. “Lando has the dorm tonight,” he says, shows him a picture of a sock on a doorknob.

It looks fake, but Daniel hasn’t actually seen it for himself ever. Like with the rose, doubted it was even done anymore. But then, Lando’s always been an odd guy.

“There’s always the couch if you want,” Daniel offers, shivers. “Or like, there’s also my bed. Probably the best if you don’t wanna wake up when Scotty gets home.”

Daniel doesn’t hold his breath, he doesn’t, listens instead to the crunch of the road underneath them. It’s no more than ten minutes until they’re home, Greek row almost condensed down to one block.

“Okay, Daniel,” Max says, quiet in the dark night. His hand brushes against Daniel’s, and he tries not to jump, stays still in case Max does reach out. “I think that would be very lovely.”

#get ready for the next part where max doesn't have a date for the *mumble* ceremony #daniel: that's okay! (it's not) you don't have to :) (you literally do) it's more of a frat bro thing anyway (it's literally in the bylaws) #in an alternate universe max is the frat's rose #disclaimer: am not american. do not know this 'frat' thing you keep talking about :| #i've watched maybe one episode of greek but that's enough right? #if i keep writing at this speed my thesis may be done on time!! #frat bro au #maxiel #maxiel fic #max/daniel #my fic #my writing #fic #answered #.arturleclerc #frat bros au