#mostly because it took me a while to come up with the puns

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader

[Chapter 29] || [Chapter 31]

Pairing: 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.4K~ cw: injuries + recovery Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: johnny is a filthy man :) but also we love him so is that a problem? no, it's not.

Chapter 30: Playing House

It took a while, but, Simon got healthy, and John and Kyle got their soreness’ settled enough to be able to go back to work.

Johnny, however, needed a little extra TLC. Being shot in the shoulder involved a longer period of medical leave, paired with a long while of physical therapy…

And that means that he decided to make himself your problem.

The rest of the lads left on a mission a few days after being cleared and, as such, left Johnny with you. Not because the lad is incapable of looking after himself, but more so because he, himself, decided he didn’t want to be away from you.

And so, whenever you leave for work, Johnny leaves for PT, then, goes to base for a bit, mostly doing work on things that he can feasibly do without straining his left shoulder/arm… Like doing paperwork and reports, going to the gym for cardio, crunches, and leg and hip workouts… Then he comes home to you.

He goes shopping for you, cooks you dinner, cleans after the two of you, despite your insistence that he rest… But, as it turns out, Johnny isn’t good at that.

Nonetheless, the flat is cleaner than ever before, Johnny’s drawing supplies are permanently stationed on the dining room table, next to your laptop, and some of his clothes have taken a permanent spot in your closet.

And, of course, he spends every night in your bed, spooning you from behind and hiding his face in your neck while you watch tiktoks, talk, or he regale you with the most ridiculous of puns.

In a way, it’s like Johnny MacTavish is your live-in boyfriend. Or, rather, that you’re playing house with him.

You wouldn’t say you hate it. In fact, it’s quite nice to have someone staying with you all night… Johnny is a good partner, he’s helpful and chill and provides wonderful cuddles…

Though you’ve jokingly started calling him ‘Johnny Price’, because, since he hasn’t been working for a month now, he’s let his beard grow out. And he looks like Price more often than he does not.

It’s on week three of your new routine with Johnny when you’re at work, that you get a text from him:

Johnny: guess what bonnie. Johnny: [1 Video Attachment]

You definitely should’ve put on some headphones before you watched that video during work… His grunting and groaning was almost pornographic and definitely earned you a few confused/worried looks from your coworkers…

But all you could think of was how he was finally easing back into his arm/shoulder workouts, which meant he finally got cleared by his PT to do as such!

you: did you finally get cleared johnny? 🥺 Johnny: cleared at 50%. Johnny: not there yet. but soon. you: I’M SO PROUD OF YOU! 🫶🫶🫶 Johnny: thank ye bonnie  you: this calls for a celebration! Johnny: i like how ye think bonnie but im not cleared yet to be able to manhandle ye 😏 you: get ur mind out of the gutter johnny price!!!!!!!! Johnny: oof not ye still calling me that! you: ur beard is looking like his what do u expect of me! 🙄 Johnny: yer right idk what i expected. Johnny: so about this celebration. you: i was thinking we go out for dinner? Johnny: are we going to dress up nice? you: i wasn’t thinking we’d go somewhere super fancy because i do not have money johnnyyyy Johnny: oh good because i dont think i can button up a shirt my shoulder is sore 😖 you: okay then! nando’s!!! 🫶  you: and i’ll give you a shoulder rub when we get home Johnny: speaking my language bonnie.

And so that’s what you did. You went home in a hurry to shower and change, and, for once, Johnny wasn’t there, having chosen to shower and change at base.

You met up in front of the Nando’s closest to your flat and you immediately chuckled at the sight of him. Sure, he had changed, but he was still very much wearing a pair of jeans, sneakers and a grey zip-up hoodie… Although you could very obviously tell he was naked beneath the hoodie.

“Mo leannan.” He murmured in an exaggeratedly polite tone as he popped the door open for you with his good arm.

“Thank you, my good sir…” You joked, which caused you both to chuckle and shake your head.

You got inside, ordered your food and, as you talked, you site adjacent to him, right on his left side, so you could gently rub his arm with your hand.

“Do you miss the lads?” You ended up asking him as you caressed his bicep and shoulder with your hand, watching him wince a bit at it, because he felt so sore from his first workout.

“A little.” Johnny admitted as he looked toward you. “Do you miss ‘em?” He returned the question. You found yourself nodding in reply.

“Having you here is wonderful though… I… quite miss you lot when you’re all gone together. Not to mention I worry sick for you.” You admitted and pressed your lips together a bit awkwardly.

“You do?” He asked you, to which you nodded. So, he continued. “Well.. I guess I understand. I imagine my mam and sisters worry about me too… As do the Kyle and the Captain’s families.” He conceded.

“That’s actually…” You found yourself trailing off as the waiter brought you your orders and you thanked him, unboxing your food so you could dig in.

“As I was saying…” You trailed off. “That’s actually an interesting point… I feel like I know very little about you and the guys’ when it comes to your personal lives… Outside of hobbies and what you do with me.” You mused as you glanced at him as he dug into his double chicken burger one-handed.

“I don’t know much about the others myself to be honest with you.” Johnny admitted as he stole one of your chips off your plate.

“Really?” You asked softly as you ate your own sandwich yourself, nodding along as he continued speaking.

“We try to keep our… ‘outside’ lives under wraps. Even being a team… what we talk about is always very superficial.” He trailed off.

“So you don’t know anything about the rest of them, nor them about you?” You cocked a brow in confusion.

“Oh, no, bonnie, I talk about myself a whole lot, I’m a blabber mouth, me.” He joked and winked at you. “But family is one of those topics that’s best kept under wraps in our line of work.” He told you as he leaned in, rubbing his thumb on the corner of your mouth to wipe it clean of peri-peri sauce. Then, he sucked his own thumb clean.

“What about me? Do I get to know about you?” You asked him playfully as you leaned forward, setting your elbow on the table as you lean in to him, eyebrows raised in intrigue.

“Tell ye what, bonnie.” Johnny leaned toward you too, licking his fingers clean and then wiping them on a napkin before he set a hand on your thigh under the table. “Anything I tell ye about my family is not going to do them justice… So how about I take ye up to meet my family over the summer… And ye meet them directly? Could even take the Captain, Simon and Kyle with us.” He offered.

Your eyes widened a bit and you blinked away the surprise, staring at him like he had grown a second head.

“Meeting your family? Really? Isn’t it a bit early for that…?” You chuckled a bit sheepishly.

“Aye, maybe it is…” He trailed off. “But at this point, I’m basically livin’ wit ye and ye’ve looked after me in sickness, haven’t ye?” He joked. “And I’ve fended off yer ex… so I’ve looked after ye in health, haven’t I?”

Rolling your eyes in amusement, you shook your head. You knew he was just joking, the look in his eyes showed it… “Are you implying that we’re married, Johnny?” You teased him playfully.

“I’m just saying…” He trailed off playfully, a playful smirk on his lips. “And, if we were married, not saying that we are,… I’d make sure to take ye home tonight and rearrange yer guts if ye let me, mo leannan.”

Looking away and biting your lip, you couldn’t help but chuckle. “Shut it…” You trailed off. “You need to rest, your shoulder’s bad still.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t use my mouth on ye… and that you can’t be on top.” He added before he grabbed another one of your chips and popped it in his mouth.

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

If the video doesn't work: TUMBLR LINK

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

taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!):

@daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling ,

@tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva ,

@emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes ,

@irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @cod-z , @frescoisnotinthemilitary ,

@leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark , @xxshadowbabexx , @severenswife , @enarien ,

@agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind ,

@neoarchipelago , @sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine ,

@kneelforloki , @comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 ,

@gazspookiebear , @mynameismisty , @reap3erslov3 , @reaper-chan666 , @poohkie90 ,

@kitwithnokat , @stick-the-dumbass , @mothsdrabbles , @justanerd1 , @thesinsoflust ,

@thriving-n-jiving , @blckbrrybasket

#ikea writes 💚 #it's a match! fic #cod modern warfare #cod fanfic #captain john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #text story #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #141 x reader

[fandomwritingbit]

"Not so clever now , are you?"

Michael Afton x afab/smart mouth reader

Req: "Michael x fem reader where they are always going at it, reader has a smart mouth, but one day Mike just goes full dom on her and she goes completely sub."

Hi, @exverlysano I hope this is alright lmao, thank you so much for the request xx

Warnings: bad puns and smut

Morning: 

You watch your boyfriend turn his head to look out the rear window of his car whilst he reversed into a bay, noting that he looked good while he did it, his jaw sharp and shoulders broad. He clearly knew it too, because he hit you with a cocky smirk. When he was finished you open the door to check his positioning, laughing immediately. 

“You’re joking, Mikey, you can’t leave it like that. It’s wonky as.”

He mirrors you, cracking open the door, “What are you talking about? It’s fine.” He makes a point of closing the door again, loudly, looking at you as if you’re insane, becoming annoyed when you just match the stare.

Scoffing, you just shake your head. “Nah, it isn’t. It’s wonky. Won-key.” you tease, loving the crease between his brow. “But then again, it’s not the only thing that’s wonky is it?” you giggle, nudging him with your elbow.

He rolls his eyes at you, desperately trying not to give you a reaction because he knew how much it spurred you on. So you put your hand on his arm, using your best feigned apologetic face, “Sorry, Mikey… I know positioning has never been your strong suit.” you can’t make it through the sentence without grinning, and you don’t get it all out before he unclips his seatbelt and shoves the door open to step out. 

“Oh come on!” you laugh, “Come on, Mike - it’s funny!” he doesn’t think so, leaving you to grab your bag and rush out the car.

~

Afternoon:

You watch Michael playing fifa, it’s an online game, one that looks pretty intense too. So intense that even though he has a headset on you can hear the buzz of voices, no doubt swearing at each other in frustration. Seeing that the climax of the match isn’t far away, you sit down just inside his peripheral, watching the timer count down and the movement of his fingers becoming more frantic on the controller. 

You can see the crash from miles away, your lover talking loudly, “To me. To me, I’m open, come on. Yeah-” As the teammate obeys, Mike flummoxes, literally and metaphorically dropping the ball, screwing up the shot. The roar from his headset says it all. 

He turns to you, slowly pulling it from his head, the voices still buzzing, “Don’t.” His finger came up, trying to warn you, how cute. “Just don’t. I can’t believe-”

“You ballsed it up?” You say instantly, trying to stop your mouth from curling into your cheeky smile. When he doesn’t laugh, you double down. “Away, if you don’t think that’s a good joke then you’ve moved the goalpost.” 

“I’m serious, y/n. Don’t, I’m pissed off.” He starts to leave the room, but you catch his arm, looking up at him all innocent. 

“Yeah, I can see that…” You smile sympathetically, when his face softens your mind  practically vibrates with excitement. “As a treat why don’t I go and-” you crack, “score us some pizza.” He goes stiff under your grip and pulls himself away. 

“Absolutely fuck off. You don’t know when to quit, do you?” 

“Alright, Mike. No need to kick off.” 

~

Around 10pm it boiled over. 

Ever since you started dating Michael, you took the mick out of him 24-fucking-7, and you knew you could reasonably get away with it. He was too nice to you and given it was only poking fun he tried not to take it too seriously, and mostly he could just forget about the teasing in favour of the times when you’re soft and sweet. Like when you wake up and cuddle into him with no snarky remarks exchanged. When you make him a coffee and set it down beside him with no previous conversation. When you wrap your arms around his waist in public just to breathe his scent. 

But right now, he had enough. All day it had been non-stop, a quip here, some snarky criticism there, a joke at his expense. 

You’re minding your own business, sitting at a counter in the kitchen and scrolling on your phone, seeing him come in you flash him that cheeky grin, which perhaps normally would have made him smile back. But today he just looked past you to the dirty pots sitting at the side of the sink, instantly rolling his eyes. 

“Really? You can’t clean up after yourself?” he snaps, walking over to the sink and flipping the tap on full-whack out of anger, the water splashing you both. You jump back laughing, the cold seeping through your shirt, watching him turn it back off again, the pissed-off look not leaving his face. 

Standing on your tip-toes you wrap your arms around his neck from behind, devilish smirk still strong, “That’s not the way to go about making me wet, Mikey.” Your joke makes him tense under you, and even when you pressed a kiss against his cheek he didn’t soften. 

He let you slide around him and kiss him properly, your hands coming up to rub his chest. And it was tempting to let you take the lead and forgive you for all your teasing, especially when he felt himself twitch as your hands moved lower; then it occurred to him that he didn’t have to give in easily, he could make you work to earn his forgiveness.

His hand was suddenly rough in your hair, wrenching you against the counter where he again kissed you, his tongue pushing into your mouth. You moan against him, tugging at his shirt, this wasn’t like Michael at all, but you sort of liked it. You try to pull the fabric over his head and he grunts disapprovingly, shoving you against the counter harder, taking a handful of your tits. 

“Did I say you could do that?” he speaks against your lips before tilting his head to your neck, biting down on your flesh much harder than he usually would. 

“Ah-fuck.” you pant, struggling to keep up with him, as he pulls your trousers down around your ankles, “Since when did I have to ask?” you manage to bite back, before breaking into a moan as he sucked a mark on the underside of your jaw. 

Strong arms hook under you and lift you onto the kitchen counter, his foot prying the garments from around your ankles leaving them to fall to the floor. “Since now.” He says against your skin, so firmly that you giggle, this was a completely different look on him.

Your laughing provokes him to damn-near tear the shirt from your body, then force your bra high on your chest, leaving you all but completely nude in your kitchen, whilst the man in front of you stays fully clothed looking as close to menacing as he could. 

Michael drops down to the floor, surprisingly forceful hands spreading your legs for him and holding them firm. There he runs his fingers over your folds, eliciting a pitiful sound from you. “Look at you.” His tone is sharp and the words are spoken so close to your core it makes your stomach tense, “Only time you’re quiet is when I’m giving this pussy some attention. All you think about, huh?” You would have laughed again, if not for his tongue suddenly pressing against your nerves and sending a spark through your body. God, you wanted to complain and tell him he was moving too fast but your dripping heat was proof that you didn’t really mind it at all. 

Instinctively you grab his hair, a gasp escaping your lips as he sets a harsh pace of flicking between your clit and pressing into your hole. He takes hold of your wrist and pulls you from him, holding your hand against your thigh, looking up at you with a glare of warning that killed any thought of protest you had. 

“Yeah, nothing to say now.” He muttered, this idea of showing you who's boss now fully solidified in his head, the role coming to him easier than he would’ve thought. 

You only whine in response, feeling utterly pathetic but silently thrilled. This dominance was stirring you hardcore, making a frantic coil in your core form quick and desperate. His sucking of your clit is both not enough and too much at the same time. And without his hair to hold on to, you find yourself bruising your own skin with your grip, being shoved to your end by the now brutal movement of his tongue. It hits you like a tonne of bricks, non-existent purchase making your toes curl with the waves of pleasure he just wrought from you. He grunts when he feels you clench, the reminder of how tight you’d feel around him causing pre-cum to leak from his tip. 

With no time to get your bearings, he yanks you off the counter and you habitually wrap your legs around his waist, letting him carry you towards your bedroom, not really knowing what you were getting into. 

“Mikey, what’s come over you?” you gasp when he tosses you down onto the bed, looking big and scary over you. 

He looks down at you with an almost bored expression on his face, undoing his belt as he answers, “Just tired of your shit.” 

You blink, “You can’t be seri- Mike, I only joke like that because you usually take it so well-”

“Then, how about you take it well right now, huh?” 

You’re giggling again when he takes hold of your ankles to pull you closer to him. The sight of him slowly stroking his cock making your pussy flutter with the knowledge of his size, made worse by the harsh look of his face.  

Oddly, he takes his time, dragging the head of his dick through your slick, using it to stroke himself, before notching in your entrance slowly. He just loved how your breath hitched as he sunk in, he’d never tire of the feeling of you stretching for him and right now it tasted doubly sweet.

The familiar feeling of him inside you made you moan. But something about his calmness was stirring you, making you impatient for him to fully bury inside you, so you reach forward to grab his forearms, pulling at him. And it was like a switch flipped in his brain, why the hell do you still think this is your game? Has he not been clear enough? 

Without a word exchanged, he begins thrusting into you roughly, a grunt punctuating every time he fully sheathes, his cock shoving into the part of you that made you come undone so perfectly. He takes hold of your legs and pulls them upwards to see the view of your cunt taking him in, your greediness evident in your pooling slick and the pretty noises you’re making.  

You’re blinded by his near-ruthless pace, his hips snapping into yours with a force you’d never seen from him and it left you feeling fucking stupid. The mix of your squeaks and moans and the lewd sound of his action are close to chaos, so much so that you hardly register Michael talking.

“Ah-not so clever now, are you?” 

#fnaf #michael afton #michael afton x reader #michael afton x you #afab reader #fnaf smut

[lanawinterscigarettes]

requesting fluff with dhawan!master x their gn! companion

I tried to make this extra cute and fluffy because I'm such a sucker for those kinds of things (also shout out to my bestest bud @your-next-daydream for helping me come up with this corny ass pun of a title. I love you sm <3)

The One Who Rocks My World (Dhawan! Master x reader)

Warnings: soft! Master (he might be slightly ooc due to a part in this where he gets a little emotional), teeny weeny bit of hurt/comfort, but mostly just lots and lots of fluff

"Ooh, let's go there!" You said in excitement, pointing at a random alien marketplace that popped up on one of the TARDIS console's many screens.

The Master merely sighed, knowing you wouldn't stop pestering him until you got what you wanted. He usually wasn't a fan of random, one off trips (he wasn't The Doctor) but something about you always made it so hard for him to say no.

"Fine, but we're staying for no longer than two hours, three tops. And I'm not buying you anything there." He said sternly, glancing up at you while he punched in the coordinates. "Do you understand?"

You simply squealed happily in response, clapping your hands together. "Yay! I knew you'd say yes!"

Less than twenty minutes later, the two of you arrived at the marketplace. You'd grabbed The Master by the hand and were already starting to drag him towards it before the TARDIS had even landed properly.

"Slow down, the market's not going anywhere in the ten minutes it'll take us to get there," he grumbled, though he made no real attempt to stop you, something he could very well do if he so pleased.

He lingered a little behind you, following you around from vendor to vendor as you oohed and awed over the different wares being sold.

"Remember, I'm not buying you anything, so don't pick anything up if you don't have the money to pay for it," he called after you, watching as you picked up a piece of fabric that was similar to a scarf.

You frowned slightly before putting it back down, knowing full well that even if you did have the money, you most likely wouldn't know how much to give them, and you had no interest in being scammed by some random alien seller, again.

The Master shook his head at your antics, smiling softly to himself. As irritating as you could be sometimes, he did have to admit he found it to be pretty endearing.

He turned to say something else to you before realizing you'd run off again, though to where he wasn't entirely sure. He was about to start tearing apart the entire marketplace looking for you before you suddenly popped up again, this time holding something in your hands.

He narrowed his eyes slightly, trying to figure out what you had. "What's that in your hands?"

"Oh, I found it on the ground over there!" You said while pointing to a beachy area that was littered with small, multicolored stones. "It's for you."

He looked at you in confusion as he took the stone, not quite sure what to say. "What is this?"

"It's a rock." You stated plainly, doing nothing to actually answer his question.

"Yes, I'm well aware of that." He did his best to supress an eye roll. "I mean, why are you giving it to me?"

"Well, because I care about you," you stated as though it should've been obvious. "And you give gifts to people you care about."

That made sense, he supposed, though The Master never really did view himself as someone other people would care for. But, still. A rock?

"Why a rock?" He asked curiously, turning it over in his hands.

"Because it's purple," you simply replied, an unwavering smile on your face. "And you wear purple a lot, so I figured it must be one of your favorite colors. Plus, it reminded me of you."

Your words made him want to cry. You thought about him enough that you were reminded of him in even the smallest of things?

"It's- it's very nice," he choked out, blinking back a sudden onslaught of tears.

You frowned slightly, your forehead creasing in concern. "Aw, don't cry." You immediately wrapped your arms around him, pulling him in for a comforting hug.

He wasn't nearly as stiff as he was the first few times you showed him physical affection, but he was obviously still a little awkward about it, holding his arms out to the side while you hugged him.

He glanced yet again at the rock in his hand, watching as the mixture of colors shined brightly in the sun, like his very own kaleidoscope.

The purple color of the stone made him smile, and he very slowly did his best to hug you back properly, not missing the way you seemed to hold on for a bit longer after that.

If this was always what happened when you went on trips together, then he'd have to make sure to plan them more often.

Likes < reblogs | comments are greatly appreciated <3

Main masterlist | Doctor Who masterlist | wanna be added to my taglist?

🏷 taglist: @theonetruepotato87

#gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #gn reader #x gn reader #doctor who #doctor who imagines #doctor who imagine #doctor who x reader #doctor who fic #doctor who fluff #the master #the master imagines #the master imagine #the master x reader #the master fic #the master fluff #dhawan!master #dhawan!master imagines #dhawan!master imagine #dhawan!master x reader #dhawan!master fic #dhawan!master fluff #dhawan master #dhawan master imagines #dhawan master imagine #dhawan master x reader #dhawan master fic #dhawan master fluff

[naavispider]

Ok so the last part in “Jake’s first flight” soundtrack in Avatar is Ninat praying to Eywa, and that game me an idea. What if the recoms squad camped somewhere near a lone tree of voices and Spider took the opportunity to bow at its roots and sing prayers? How would they (mostly Quaritch tho) react to it? To him singing in Na’vi, and in a religious context?

The moss was a soft blanket under his knees. He knelt down amongst the tender, lilac tendrils of the Tree of Voices like he was on hallowed ground. Every movement had to be soft, considered and mindful. This was a place where Eywa saw all.

“Great Mother, I pray for the wellness of my family. I pray for the prosperity and safety of the People. Let the be okay. Let them escape the terror of discovery.” He carded his fingers through a few glowing branches, as softly as he could, and closed his eyes while holding them. “Most importantly, I pray for forgiveness for my part in that terror. I will be strong, but I know it is not enough. I pray that you can forgive me for being with the Sky People. I pray that you can forgive me for the evil in my veins. Look into my heart and know that it is with the People. Ma Eywa, forgive me.”

When he opened his eyes, he was still as alone as he could be. A soft breeze rustled over the grass around him, and for a second he swore the tree grew brighter. He splayed one hand on the ground as his heartbeat picked up, keeping the other gently holding the tree’s tendrils. It had always been his way of connecting to Eywa without a kuru. “Ma Eywa,” he whispered through closed eyelids, feeling more certain than ever that she was listening.

“What the hell are you doing, kid?”

In an instant, it was over. The wind died and the light dimmed. Spiders heart sank as he opened his eyes in anger, immediately raging that none other than Colonel Miles Quaritch had interrupted.

“Minding my own business,” he growled, standing up and turning around to glare at Quaritch.

Quaritch however, seemed oblivious to Spider’s ire. “What was that?” he asked, a frown forming on his face as he gestured at the tree.

Spider narrowed his eyes, not sure if he wanted to share that most precious moment with the RDA squad leader. He bit his tongue for a moment. “Nothing.”

Quaritch looked suspicious. He tilted his head to the side and his tail swished agitatedly behind him. Eventually he decided to take Spider’s word for it. “What are you doing over here by yourself? Come back to the squad.”

Spider turned his back, resuming his position on the floor. “I’m good, thanks.”

“Spider-“

“Leave me alone.”

Quaritch clearly felt some type of way about this, because he hesitated before answering. “If you get eaten by some beast don’t blame me.”

Spider rolled his eyes at the man’s attempt at humour, and didn’t respond. If he did, it wouldn’t be pleasant. He waited until the sound of the recom’s boots had retreated all the way back to where the rest of the temporary camp was set up, a decent distant away from the tree. He closed his eyes again, trying to get back to that place of calm and stillness that had allowed Eywa to hear him. He lowered his breathing and heart rates, and tried to focus on feeling her energy, but the moment was gone.

“Demons!” he cursed.

He took a deep breath, and settled back on his haunches, listening to the low buzz of the forest as he brought to the forefront of his mind a song. In a low voice, he began to sing:

Utralä (a)Nawm ayrina’l(u) ayoeng, A peyä tìtxur mì hinam awngeyä N(a) aysangek afkeu, Mì pun N(a) ayvul ahusawnu, M(ì) aynar Na seze A ’ong ne tsawke. Utralä (a)Nawm ayrina’ l(u) ayoeng, A peyä tìrol m(ì) awnga.

The song told of the connectivity of the People, and Spider had heard it sung and joined in countless times during periods of loss and also celebration. It was one of his favourite ways to pay tribute to Eywa.

Unfortunately for him, his singing hadn’t gone unnoticed. He was brought back to reality by a piercing whistle from the camp. He gasped, spinning round to see who or what had just invaded his privacy again.

“Shut it Lyle,” Quaritch chastised from not too far away.

Wainfleet looked smug as anything, grinning from ear to ear, but he had the common sense to not speak again.

“Bastards,” Spider hissed.

Quaritch put his hands up, slowly approaching Spider’s spot under the tree as if Spider was a scared animal and he was worried about spooking him. “That was pretty impressive. That was all in your funky alien language?”

Spider simmered, clenching his fists at his side. Why he ever bothered trying to teach Quaritch the funky alien language, Spider didn’t know. “Are you trying to piss me off? Cause it’s fucking working.”

“Hey, don’t give me that,” Quaritch said, making a faux offended expression. “I was just thinking how nice it sounded.”

Spider raised an eyebrow. That sounded like some bullshit. “Did you fall over a blastbulb or something?” Maybe the recom was sick.

"Can I not enjoy something?"

Spider squirmed uncomfortably. Not when it comes from me. "No."

Quaritch took a seat next to Spider. The tree of voices's branches brushed over the recom's shoulders and he pulled them off gently. "Sounded real special."

"It was," Spider replied, deadpan. He so did not want to be having this conversation with Quaritch. Especially not here, so close to Eywa.

"What does it mean?" Quaritch pressed. He sounded sincere for once, so Spider grit his teeth and tried to explain.

"It's a song about connectivity. It tells us that we're all seeds of the sacred tree. We are all of Eywa, and eventually we will all return to her."

"Eywa...?"

"The Great Mother."

Quaritch nodded his head as if he'd just put the name to the colloquialism. "Gotcha."

Spider stared at him sideways. Why did he care? Why was he listening to him?

"And this Eywa, she's the big daddy around here, right? The one all the local nuts are obsessed with..." He didn't say it as a question, more like a memory that was coming back to him from a previous life. "I remember Augustine..."

Spider flinched at the mention of Kiri's mom. He also wasn't used to anyone talking about Eywa in such a dismissive and disrespectful way. He'd never heard that before. "You don't see, so just stop talking."

Quaritch had the gumption to look confused.

"You think it's something to joke about. Well I don't want to hear it. Go slander her name to your boyfriend." He nodded over to Wainfleet.

"Woah, kid!" Quaritch was clearly baffled at Spider's response. "I didn't mean to offend. Don't get yourself riled up. I just wanna know why you believe so much in this... this deity."

"...Why do I believe?"

"That's right."

Spider thought about it for a moment, running his hands over the moss beneath him and watching it glow. "....Because she's real."

"Ah ah!" Quaritch made a disappointed face as if Spider had just lost a game or answered a question wrong. "That's a logical fallacy. I'm asking you what evidence do you have."

Spider frowned.

"I mean, there must be a lot if you're willing to sit and sing a song to a tree for half an hour for her."

He bristled, trying not to let Quaritch's language rile him up. "She lives in all of us," he began to explain slowly. "When we die, we return to her and the People can hear their ancestors living on at places like this. She guided Jake through her eye and blessed him with a new body." He shrugged. "If you want evidence, talk to the science guys. Oh wait..." He looked straight at Quaritch. "You already killed one of them."

Quaritch kept his face impassive, though he stretched his jaw, taking in Spider's words. "We've all wished for do-overs, kid," he finally replied, so quietly that Spider wasn't sure he'd heard correctly. Was Quaritch trying to say that he regretted killing Grace?

"You don't belong in a place like this," Spider said, having finally had enough.

"What? And you do?" Quaritch appraised him, an irritated frown line forming between his eyes. "Look at you. You can't even plug into the thing."

Spider snapped, hissing at Quaritch. How dare this man invade his privacy - invade Eywa's sacred site - spew doubts and insults and then attack Spider for not being Na'vi... "Get out!" he yelled, needing the man to retreat to at least a few feet away from the tree's edge. Preferably the middle of a deep lake with weights on his feet, if possible.

"Right, you're kinda sensitive about that, huh?"

"I said get OUT!" A breeze had swept up in the past minute or two, seeming to circle where the pair were sat. At Spider's words, it turned ice cold.

"Jesus!" Quaritch cussed, noticing the dramatic change in temperature. He stared questioningly at Spider, who remained resolutely planted on the ground, the temperature not appearing to affect him. After a second of hesitation, Quaritch got up to his feet and hastily retreated back to the camp, watching Spider the whole way.

Spider didn't know why the cold didn't bother him. He could feel it for sure, but only as if he was a passenger in his own body, feeling without really experiencing. His heart was hammering twice its usual speed. That was the second sign from Eywa today. He didn't know how or why, but it seemed like she had heard him.

She'd heard him.

"Thank you, Great Mother," he muttered, so quietly that no one would be able to hear, even Quaritch, who was stood on the perimeter of the tree, staring at Spider as if he was finally learning to See.

#spider socorro #miles quaritch #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #recom quaritch #miles spider socorro #atwow #atwow oneshot #atwow fanfiction #my stuff: religious spider #tree of souls #avatar eywa #ask #avatar spider #avatar quaritch

[custardcrazy]

A Ted jealous fic pleaaaase! reader and/or him being jealous, or both, whatever you prefer :)

tenaciously uptight

summary: for the longest time, you thought you were the only jealous one. but soon, you realize your feelings for your best friend might not be so unrequited. (gn!reader)

wordcount: 4.3k

A/N: IM SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT OH MY GOD. thank you for requesting. im so sorry. please let me know if there's any glaring errors i barely beta-ed this

You were aware that your best friend wasn't the most observant guy, but seriously; he was completely and utterly unaware of anything even slightly related to romance. 

After all, he never noticed whenever anybody sent longing glances in his general direction. He never picked up on any hidden intentions when people batted their eyelashes at him or asked for his phone number. And he certainly didn't understand the fact that most, if not all of the people who wanted to hang out with him or just spent time with him in general found him attractive. How could they not? A tall, broad-shouldered golden retriever who didn't have a mean bone in his body was repulsive to few. 

However, you knew him very well and his self-esteem … was in the gutter. For many reasons, most of which were a certain individual parent who you preferred to leave unnamed. And that was mostly the reason why, even though he could pick up on whenever someone was flirting with someone else, he couldn't get a clue when somebody took interest in him. 

Even though you were very patient with him, and appreciated him dearly, sometimes you wished that he would just get a single clue. You were used to being the one who watched from afar as he was flirted with -- as girls shamelessly looked him up and down and pretended to be interested in Van Halen or Kiss (pun not intended) in order to segue the conversation to more intimate topics. It wasn't anything new, but you still couldn't stop the thing with claws and fangs which tore at your chest whenever it happened.

You knew that you couldn't do much else, even when you had felt something for Ted since the sixth grade; which was funny to look back on, because he was always asking for a spare pencil from you, and somehow, when you were twelve, that was cute. Ever since he hit his growth spurt, you'd been dealing with the immeasurable amount of jealousy that came with having feelings for a boy who was sometimes oblivious to the extent where it seemed he was blind. 

There had been a couple hints here and there over the time that you'd known him. That maybe he reciprocated all of the mishmash of stuff that you harbored for him. It wasn't enough, though.

(Were you really going to ruin everything you had over an awkward hand brush that one time at the movies?) 

Nowadays, you both worked at the Pretzels 'N' Cheese booth in the mall, which was an excellent strategy for being able to hang out while simultaneously earning money. And it was true that your clothes always picked up the smell of cheese and stayed that way until thrown in the wash, but it was worth it. Way better than working at American Eagle, which always attracted the catty middle-aged ladies. At least you could pacify them briefly with an excessively salty pretzel. 

Since it was summertime, there were more than enough mall-goers looking for unhealthy snacks to waste their money on. 

Occasionally you saw people you vaguely knew from high school, in various states of panic or otherwise. It was weird at first, but you'd gotten used to it. Today was no exception. 

Tyler McClellan (who had somehow been in all of your English-related classes) hadn't changed much. He was still blonde, mullet-ed, and smiled too much, but it was better than him just being plain rude, so you didn't mind. 

What you did mind was the way he was leaning over the counter towards you, acting as if Ted wasn't there at all. 

"So, uh," he said, grinning like he was being real smooth. "Been a while. You come here often?" 

"I work here," you answered politely. "Are you going to order anything?" 

He ignored your question. "Y'know, you haven't changed in the slightest." 

"Oh, cool." You tried again. "Can I get you anything?" 

Yet another failure. "Kinda sucks that we're both bumming around San Dimas, huh? I've been thinkin' about heading down to the beach." Tyler ran a hand through his hair for the third time in the span of roughly two minutes. "Catch a few waves. Weather looks good." Wiggling his eyebrows in a move that would've only worked in a terrible romantic comedy, he leaned even closer -- if that was possible. "It'd be pretty dope if you could come along." 

You snuck a look at Ted, seeing if he was possibly going to intervene or anything before you shut Tyler down; he met your eyes before quickly glancing away. 

Huh. 

Well, he'd never liked confrontation. 

"I'm not interested." Keeping your tone clear, you sincerely hoped that Tyler and his hopeless baby blue eyes would go somewhere else and maybe flirt with Hannah who worked at Claire's instead. "Please. Do you want a pretzel or not?" 

He looked at you for a moment, but you held your ground. 

And finally, gradually, to your relief, his shoulders sagged, and that ever-present smile slipped off his face. "... Okay, okay." He straightened up, stuffing his hands back into the pockets of his jeans. "One pretzel. No cheese or salt. Please." 

He paid in a couple crumpled bills, and slouched off somewhere else; not even bothering to say a simple 'thanks'. 

Ted was still quiet. 

"Um." Awkwardly, you looked over at Ted again after putting the money in the register and making sure you didn't give Tyler any extra pennies. "You okay? He's gone now, I think." 

Your words seemed to shake him out of whatever reverie he'd entered while you were talking with Tyler. "Oh! Uh." His hand automatically flew up to scratch the back of his neck. "... Sorry, dude. Yeah, I'm good." Another weird thing -- he was religiously avoiding eye contact, where he'd normally be focused intently on what you were saying. You were skeptical at best as to if he was telling the truth, but didn't want to make him uncomfortable.

So you dropped it. "Alright."

For the rest of your shift, Ted was … tense? Stiff. He eventually eased up a little, once you asked him about his and Bill's progress on marathoning all of the low-budget slasher movies they'd rented, but there was still a hint of something there, in the way he kept fidgeting with his hands. Again, you didn't mention it. Maybe he was just uncomfortable because of Tyler's presence. 

You couldn't blame him. 

But later, when you were both making sure neither of the machines had leaked cheese onto the floor; he brought up the topic again. 

"Dude, stop me if this is weird, or boundary-pushing, but… " He gently rolled his shoulders, as if he was shrugging off a jacket. "Did you actually wanna go hang out with that dude?" There was something in his voice that you were, unfortunately, familiar with. Vulnerability. But, unlike the other times, you couldn't exactly place why. 

"Y'know, just wondering," he added.

You squashed your curiosity down in favor of a disgusted expression. "Ew, no way. I barely know him -- or knew him at all." Dismissively, you waved a hand. "He's not my type, anyway." The exact opposite of it, actually. 

"Oh." He paused. 

"I'm … gonna go wash my hands." 

And with that, he practically darted off to the tiny employee closet, too fast for you to mention that there was no trace of anything on his fingers. 

You stood there for a moment, bewildered at his sudden escape. Maybe he just wanted space or something -- but, still, you had absolutely no idea what was going on. It wasn't like he was hard to read. But you just didn't know why he was acting so … skittish. 

Thankfully, when he finished "washing his hands", everything looked like it was going to go back to normal. He laughed aloud when you cracked a joke about that one time Bill spilled a metric ton of cheese on the floor. 

About two minutes later, you were both sitting in the van. It was a short ride from the mall to your apartment, which you "shared" with an acquaintance who was basically never there. You didn't know exactly why, but you got the gist of it from the fact that she always came back either inebriated or hungover. At least she did her laundry. 

Noticeably, Ted wasn't strained like before. Seemed like your admission concerning Tyler made him less nervous. He let you fiddle with the radio for a little while before settling on a channel. 

"Oh, yeah, I almost forgot you liked this kind of music, dude!" He beamed, having to shout over the sound of the wind whistling through the window; the air-conditioning had been busted for the longest time. "Stellar!" 

It wasn't too long until the van pulled up outside your apartment complex. Making sure your keys hadn't fallen out of your pocket, you hopped out. Just before you shut the van door, you offered a smile to Ted. 

"Thanks for the ride. See you later." 

"Wait!" 

You paused. "What?" 

He still had a hand idly on the wheel, but you noticed he was clutching it a little tighter. " … We're still on for tomorrow, right?" 

Right. Every Friday since forever had been movie night. He didn't often clarify it with you, since it was an unspoken thing. Even if Ted's memory wasn't the best, he always remembered. 

You gave Ted another curious look. "Yeah. Of course."  

"Cool." 

There was an awkward pause, before you filled it in again. "Cool. Uh, yeah, see you." Shutting the van door, you didn't linger long before walking up to the door of your apartment complex, mind whirling a little faster than usual.  

If you claimed that you didn't think about Ted's behavior later in the evening, when you were shoving some leftovers in the oven or when you were getting ready for bed, then you'd be a huge liar. 

The next day was uneventful at best for the most part, since it was your day off. You were usually a bit antsy before hanging out with Ted, nothing out of the ordinary for sure. But this time, there was something else alongside the typical restlessness. Not being able to specifically pinpoint what this something was made you even more restless, which wasn't fun. 

At around seven, the familiar van pulled up. You'd already been waiting -- summer evenings in San Dimas were nice and cool, unlike the unrelenting heat that arrived in the afternoon. 

Bill waved at you from the driver's seat, rolling down the window. "C'mon!" 

He was maybe a bit more of an aggressive driver than his taller counterpart, but the route to their apartment hadn't changed. As per usual. 

"Dude." Drawing out the 'u', he smirked. "Listen. Ted rented a bunch of these cheesy forties movie musicals --" Bill snickered to himself, " -- can you believe it? Never in the history of mankind would I have expected a genre such as that one to be selected for our movie nights, much less by Ted." 

"I mean, it's kind of a nice change from the terrible gory flicks you guys watch all the time." You were mostly indifferent as you watched houses and other assorted buildings cruise by through the window. "Well, yeah, still kind of surprising, though. But it's good to have a change of pace, right?" 

Your mind abruptly conjured up an image of Ted dancing in a smart black suit and matching top hat, a la Fred Astaire. 

"True," was Bill's thoughtful reply. 

Luckily, just like the drive to work, it wasn't too long to Bill and Ted's apartment. The second you stepped in the door, you were engulfed by an aroma of incredible, delightful, microwave popcorn. Ted waved semi-wildly at you from his comfortable seat on the couch, already sinking into the horde of different, brightly-colored pillows. A large bowl of what you'd smelled earlier was sitting in his lap. 

Without any fanfare, you walked over and plopped down next to him. He smiled brightly. "Hey!" 

"Hey yourself." You reached over his lap to grab a handful of popcorn, and he moved the bowl a little closer to make it easier for you to do so. 

A long sigh drifted over from Bill's general direction. "C'moon. Why do I always gotta be the one to put in the tapes?" 

"No one said that you had to, dude." 

"I don't see you getting up to help." He shot a look at Ted, who grinned innocently. 

"I'm totally stuck under this most hefty bowl of popcorn." 

Bill narrowed his eyes at you next; you just shrugged in response. 

"You both suck," he declared, but moved to get the tapes anyway. 

A bit later, all of your eyes were glued to the small screen, and all of the popcorn was pretty much gone. The first movie to be chosen was about halfway through, and still, the tune of the catchy titular song was stuck in your head. You had assumed that was the point. 

"Do all babes fall for dudes who help them turn off the lights?" Questioned Ted aloud. 

"It has to be more complicated than that," insisted Bill. "I have learned from experience that the process of woo-ing is not just. Like. Being able to reach up to switch off a chandelier or whatever." 

"Right, but who knows?" You chimed in. "Some people really like acts of service." 

"Acts, plural," came Bill's defiant assertion. "Nobody's that easy." 

"I dunno, dude," chirped Ted. "I would be totally flattered if somebody turned off the lights for me." 

"Well, yeah, you become deeply infatuated with various babes on sight," shot back Bill. 

You were suddenly glad you had an excellent poker face. 

"That's different," pleaded Ted. "You know, everyone has those sorts of things, right? Little crushes?" He sounded embarrassed. "Well, you can't really use that as an example! That is totally underhanded of you."

"You cannot deny the intense attraction and infatuation you feel for certain babes on sight," recited Bill solemnly. Suddenly, his focus was on you. "We both know that for sure. Right?" 

"Uh." You faltered. It was the truth. But something inside you refused to accept it, which was both infuriating and yet another validation of your feelings. 

"Yeah, I guess," you settled for. But you quickly added, "he's kind of matured since high school, though." 

"That's what I'm saying!" Burst out Ted, and you were glad that the bowl was nearly empty, as he would've sent it all flying in the air. " 'Sides, Bill, weren't you the one makin' eyes at the sales lady at the record store the other day? You sure looked infatuated, all from the fact that she helped you to find that Ozzy record -- " 

" -- even you admitted you found her cute -- " 

"Dude, shut up!" 

You let them bicker for a little while longer, until you couldn't hear the dialogue over their petty arguing. And then, an intervention was necessary. 

"Okay! Okay." 

They both fell silent, and you were glad. "Who cares if you're both easy or not. I think, personally, I would also be at least kind of flattered if someone helped me out with a chore or something. It's polite." 

Bill just pouted, looking back at the television. Ted turned slightly to face you, looking curious. 

"So … If a dude helped you with your laundry or something, would you take interest in him?" 

You didn't interpret it as anything other than a genuine question. 

"I mean, since laundry is boring, I'd definitely get a good opinion on him. It takes more than that for me to, like, seriously consider dating a guy." Like maybe always remembering your birthday, and giving you little special homemade gifts he made himself. Or like listening closely to everything you said. Or maybe giving you his jacket on a chilly day; disregarding himself even though you could see the goosebumps on his gangly arms, or … 

Man, you had it bad. 

Ted nodded in that distinct way of his. "Gotcha." 

"Would you find it attractive?" You asked, surprising yourself. 

He didn't seem bothered, though. Just a little sheepish. "I suck at doing laundry, you know that. So yeah, I'd probably be. Like. A little interested, at least." 

"Yeah." 

The movie was pretty good for the rest of its runtime, and there wasn't much conversation that passed between the three of you. By the time the credits rolled, you heard either of them stifle a yawn. 

For a moment, all of you just sat there. Then, slowly you and Ted turned to look at Bill. 

He threw his hands up in the air. "Are you kidding me?" 

The rest of the night passed in a near-blur, and before long, Ted was rummaging through the cabinet of their tiny bathroom, looking for the spare toothbrush. Bill was probably already fast asleep; around one, during yet another dramatic tap-dancing scene, he'd dozed off, and it had taken a bit of effort to wake him up and get him to bed. He'd always slept like a log. 

"So," you said, from your perch near the sink. "What'd you think of the movies? Better than Cujo?"  

"Oh, dude, that particular film is an experience." He was crouched on the floor, but looked up in order to make eye contact with you. "But, I don't think I can compare 'em. They're too different -- all-American movie musicals versus B-movie slashers." 

"True." 

A few seconds later, Ted let out an 'aha!' as he found what he'd been so doggedly searching for. "Think fast!" 

You fumbled for the neon green toothbrush he tossed at you, but managed to not drop it. "Thanks." 

With a bit of effort, he got to his feet, then stretched; you politely averted your eyes from the way his old tee shirt rode up his stomach. 

"What'd you think?" 

Pausing from where you were squirting toothpaste onto the bristles of your toothbrush, you thought it over for a moment. "Pretty decent and enjoyable in general. Obviously cheesy at some points, but that's kinda the novelty of it all." You smiled. "It's not called the Golden Age for nothing." 

"I agree wholeheartedly," he replied. 

Strangely, he was lingering. Usually he just left you to do whatever you needed before you settled down on the couch, but even after you finished splashing water on your face, he was still by the doorway. 

"Something up?" Turning to face him, you leaned back on the counter, ignoring how it dug into your back a bit uncomfortably. "Still thinking about that little debate with Bill over easiness?" You couldn't help but tease. 

The combination of the late hour and the fact that it was just you two, in relative close proximity, made this feel intimate, almost; like you were the only two people on Earth. Since the apartment wasn't in the more populated areas of San Dimas, the only occasional sound outside was the revving of a car engine or the rare hoot of an owl. 

"Well, kinda." Averting his gaze for a moment, his hand found a familiar place on the back of his neck, "but, um, not really. I just … " 

You waited patiently, and he eventually picked up the sentence again. "I just wanted to, uh. Ask you another question." 

"Why didn't you ask me earlier?" It slipped out before you could stop it. 

"I … I didn't want to," he said, and you thought that was it, but then; "not in front of Bill. He would probably never let me forget it." 

"Oh?" Both interested and nervous, you looked at him imploringly. 

His Adam's apple bobbed. "Um. Yesterday, you mentioned that dude wasn't 'your type', and then like, a couple hours ago you said you liked acts of service, right?" He kept barreling forward. "So I'm just, like, curious -- " 

"What is your type?" 

Your first instinct was to find it funny. All that build-up, for a simple question like that? But then, the truth hit you; you couldn't be completely honest when answering it. And normally that wouldn't be a huge problem, but guilt was slowly creeping up on you. You never had lied to Ted, and you didn't want to start now, just to protect your own dignity or whatever. Disregarding the fact that Ted had somehow remembered a one-off comment you'd made, you hastily put together an adequate response. 

"Well, uh," you started, "you know I'm not too picky, but what I really look for in a relationship is being able to support each other, no matter what. Always being there for one another. Always being able to remember what makes them happy and what doesn't." Exhaling slowly, you felt oddly … Exposed. "And being able to make each other laugh. That's all. " 

He didn't respond for a few seconds, but then, 

"Did you find him funny?" 

You were caught utterly off-guard. "What?" 

"Tyler." 

Another case of avoiding eye contact, and you were worried. 

"What? No!" Dumbfounded, you didn't notice that you were repeating yourself. "Ted, I told you that I wasn't interested in him at all. Why're you bringing him up now?" 

"I just wanted to know," he said, shrinking in on himself a little, "you know, you could've said yes, he's real good-looking -- " 

"Why does that matter?" Cutting him off, you shook your head. "I'm gonna answer that myself. It doesn't! He was being a huge creep, there's no way -- " 

" -- I know you'd like to go to the beach, dude -- " 

" -- no, I didn't, that'd be really inconvenient, you -- " 

" -- you didn't have to feel forced to say no just 'cause of stupid outside factors, I saw you considering it -- " 

"I wasn't!" You exclaimed.

Seeing the expression on Ted's face, you hurriedly reeled yourself back in, dropping your voice to nearly a soft murmur. "... I wasn't. Why don't you believe me?" 

The silence was so thick, weighing upon your shoulders like a heavy blanket. 

But instead of being comfortable, it was suffocating. 

A beat longer.

"Sorry, sorry," he finally mumbled, "sorry, I got… Ahead of myself. Sorry. I do believe you, I swear." 

"No, no," you rushed to fill in the gap, "no, it's fine, it's alright." You'd stopped leaning back, now at full attention. 

Ted peeked at you from underneath his bangs, and you took that as your cue to continue. 

"I'm just … I'm just confused. Why…?" 

Your voice trailed off, but before you could pull yourself together enough to clarify what you meant, he spoke up instead. 

"I'm sorry, just -- " your heart broke; you heard the emotion warping the edges of his voice, but before you could say anything once more, he interrupted. 

"Just forget … all of this. I - it's nothing. Sorry. I screwed up, that's all." He turned away, but not before you could catch sight of his trembling hands. 

"See you in the morning, dude." 

No. Not like this, you couldn't let him shuffle off to bed like this. You'd known how many times he'd done that already in his life. You'd witnessed it firsthand; the way he always bottled it all up, acting as if nothing happened while that was anything but the truth. You couldn't let him turn away and act like everything was normal the next day. 

You reached out, wrapping a hand around his wrist. 

He stopped immediately. 

"Please. I can't forget this, and I know if I try it'll just keep getting harder not to." He was still facing away from you, but you didn't let that stop you. 

"We've never hidden anything important from each other, Ted. You know I'm always here for you." Maybe there was a hint of desperation in your words -- but you were, and you were on the edge of begging. "Please, I hate fighting with you. I shouldn't have lost my temper."

He didn't speak for a little while; but he didn't pull away. 

Then, eventually. 

"I thought I could handle it, like before, but this time I just couldn't."  

Now, he was facing you, your hand still around his wrist; and now, your hand was in his. 

You couldn't speak, but that was fine, because he was still talking. 

"I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, dude. But seeing him looking at you like that -- " His breath caught in his throat. "... I never could be so forward, especially not with you. But I think I gotta." 

Was this really happening? You felt light-headed all of a sudden. Did you fall asleep during the movie?

But his touch was grounding. 

You could feel the calluses on his fingertips. 

"I'm," he began, voice trembling. "I've been. In love with you. For a really long time." 

Floored. 

Maybe you were dreaming. Your Ted wouldn't be looking you directly in the eyes, professing his feelings to you, the blush on his face clear as a bad vocalist underneath the ugly fluorescent lights of the bathroom. Your Ted wouldn't be still holding your hand as if it was the most precious thing in the world. Your Ted didn't see you as anything other than a great pal. 

… Right? 

Wait, no, your Ted was still talking. 

"A - and I know this is really sudden and you're not obligated to return anything because obviously it's kinda awkward because we're best friends and it's gonna change everything -- I like everything, but -- " 

If he could be so brutally forward, it was probably your turn to do so too. 

"Ted." 

His mouth snapped shut. 

"Ted," you repeated, face flaming. "I love you too." 

There. Years of feelings all expressed in Four. Simple. Words. 

For a moment, he looked like a fish; mouth opening and shutting uselessly. 

Then, you were pulled into a bear hug. 

Nothing unfamiliar, but this time, it was somehow so much different. Automatically, your hands were around his neck, and his around your waist, and together you stood there for a while. Rocking a little. No words necessary to convey what you were both thinking. 

Finally. 

#ted logan x reader #ted logan x you #ted logan imagine #ted logan imagines #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves x you #bill and ted imagine

[wisellamawerewolf]

What's that? HOT single dad with BIG naturals in YOUR area Hazbin Hotel tag? More likely than you think!

Ok, jokes aside, I've decided to try something new for myself and redesign HH Lucifer. I'm gonna preface this by saying that I'm not a professional character designer (in fact I can barely draw), but I tried anyway just for the fun of it.

Sorry I took your goofy tumblr sexyman wannabe and turned him into a depressed dead-beat dilf, who's deeply unamused by the shit happening around him. Also he is trans and doesn't even bind (like a king he is) because I have to represent Viv's biblical lore as accurately as possible.

*Disclaimer: under the cut you can find an obnoxiously long text detailing my design choices. It's probably poorly articulated and not at all amusing, so you can just skip it. Also there's a badly drawn hat somewhere down there, so beware.*

I'll begin with the most obvious: Lucifer's main inspiration for his look was the ram. Mostly because the goat is supposedly already taken by Satan if I remember VivziePop Lore correctly, but also because it's a direct reference to a sacrificial lamb. I used images of a Jacob sheep as a reference, for multiple reasons: 1. Their fur often has a two-colored pattern (usually black/dark brown and white, which will become important later), 2. Sometimes they can grow as much as four horns, which kinda gives me this occult, almost demonic vibe, I was going for. 3. They're kinda cute. Look at them majestic beasts:

Moving on.

In the hellaverse the seven deadly sins are supposed to be themed after different types of circus performers, and Lucifer wasn't an exception, his outfit clearly being inspired by a ringmasters' costume, while his white face with red cheeks are supposed to resemble a clown makeup.

I've decided to keep the circus theme and run with it (maybe a bit too far, as you will see in a second).

My first point of reference was the same as in the original: the ringleader. Given the chosen theme it kinda makes sense, since he is supposed to be a main ruler of hell. You can really tell that he runs this circus. Awful jokes aside, his upper wear is obviously inspired by a circus ringmasters' outfits, with a mix of trates from another character that can be sometimes found performing in a circus, which brings us to:

Pierrot. Now, although his character originated from the Italian theater, pierrot can be considered a clown in a more modern sense. (At least I think so. If I'm wrong clown experts can kick my ass in the comments, I probably deserve this)

Pierrot often characterized as a melancholic, a sufferer and a tragic lover. When it comes to the humor in the circus setting specifically, it usually comes from the pierrot's melancholic nature and often involves his clumsiness and kind of self-deprecating slapstick, which I find quite fitting for a man who fucked up so bad that he isolated himself from the rest of the world and who's wife left him because of that. Lucifer's whole life after the fall has been one giant unfunny joke, and he isn't coping well with it.

Elements of a pierrot costume can be observed in the white jacket, the coat lapel of which is mimicking a frilled collaret. The fur pattern on his face is also a reference to a pierrot's make-up: a white face with black (well, brown in our case) tears.

Lastly, you probably have noticed the shirt, which has the main colour accent to it. It's actually inspired by a strongman singlet.

I've decided to give it less stripes for simplicity (also because I'm lazy). He's supposed to be wearing shorts and a sleeveless shirt underneath his costume, but I'm too tired to draw another image, so I guess you have to use your imagination on that one. I'll be frank, it's mostly supposed to be a little nod to the fact that Lucifer is supposed to be a strongest being in hell. Yeah I included it into my design because of a bad pun.

On a second thought, it's probably not great that I've tried to crum in three different types of circus performers into one character, but I'm not a professional character designer, so I legitimately do not know if that's ok. More experienced people are welcome to critique or correct me in the replies/comments.

BONUS:

While finishing the first image I randomly thought to myself that besides the ringleader elements, there's may not be enough clues that he's a monarch. So I decided to do a separate image where I clown around to try and redesign his crown/tophat, so here it is:

And if I decided to break down my thought process designing Lucifer himself, I might as well do it here also.

I've decided to keep the crown and ringmasters' tophat elements. I used images of a ringleaders' tophats and the imperial state crown as my main points of reference.

All the metallic elements of the "crown" are actually made out of pyrite, also known as a fool's gold (you can really tell that I'm a fan of dumb puns). I decided to used it to further showcase how Lucifer ruling the hell is treated like a joke.

Chains surrounding the tophat are supposed to represent how Lucifer was unwillingly thrown into this position and it weighs him down.

These two rings at the bottom are supposed to look kinda like a snakeskin (yes really), which is a reference to that scene where he turns into a snake to give Eve an apple. Speaking of which:

At the top is placed an imperial orb, with a upsidedown star (pentagram) instead of a cross. It carries the same meaning as a regular imperial orb in a sense that it shows monarch's power, but it's also kinda mocks the regular globus cruciger. (Fun fact: russians sometimes call it something like a "monarch's apple". I just thought it was kinda funny considering the context I'm using it in.).

The rest of the elements are taken from a regular tophat ringleaders' usually wear.

Anyway, that's all I have. Feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments or replies, I'll gladly read them.

#hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel redesign

[pixelchills]

Do you plan on making a new Helperbot OC? Stardust is so cute! Since he resembles Sun, I was wondering if he had any lunar-looking friend. I can just imagine him playing with the bigger animatronics <3 !

I do actually have a few other Helper Bot OCs! Thank you for reminding me I need to post their refs here 😂

But yes, even though I originally thought Stardust was not going to have "moon-partner" I ended up with one anyway... (I'm such a sucker for sun x moon ships)

Stardust's owner adopted a retired Medical Grade Helper!

This is Napkin G. Winston aka "Winnie"

Medical Grade HelperBots (MGs) are as the name suggests, made for people who need assistance with their medical conditions.

Medical Grades come only in standard Sun and Moon models, and they're bigger and stronger than regular HelperBots with more memory space for the needed knowledge.

You can only get a working MG if you have a good insurance for your medical condition. Or by adopting a retired one, like Stardust's owner did.

This is how big Winston is compared to Stardust:

(If you're familiar with BJDs, Stardust/regular HelperBots are the size of MSD -dolls, and Winston/Medical Grades are the size of SD -dolls.)

Winnie originally had a different owner, but after his first owner's death, he had to retire, or go through a complete memory swipe/reset. He didn't want to lose all the memories of his first owner he took care of, so he decided to retire instead.

Winston is, just like most Moon-model MGs, serious and quiet. He is still getting used to not needing to take care of someone so strictly, and still grieves his old owner's death.

He is often just quietly observing things, and talks like old people...

Stardust actually doesn't like him at first at all. He thinks Winston has come to steal his owner's attention and all the work Stardust is supposed to take care of.

But in the end, Stardust warms up for Winston. Tasks are easier to take care of when you got two extra hands, and Winston is a great help with Stardust's separation anxiety from their owner.

Eventually, even love seems to bloom between the two. Rivals to Friends to Lovers route here XD

Fun fact: Winston's name is a pun; while Winston/Winnie is the name mostly used for him, "Napkin G." is a joke between the words "Napkin" - because he is sad and grieving and needs napkins to wipe his tears - and "NapkinG" - because he's a moon-mode, thus, a nap king.

#asks #moon #sun #helperbot au #pixelchills ocs #fnaf moon #pixel draws #stardust #winston

[delectablyhumongousstarfis--blog]

Well… that was quite the emotional rollercoaster. I have a lot of thoughts.

Firstly, I am over the moon about the callowmoore shenanigans! I love me a slow burn (pun absolutely intended). Pure fucking awkward chaos - nom nom nom! I don’t think the events with the shard spell the end of anything. We’ve seen romances weather worse storms. Remember that one time that Yasha nearly killed Beau? I love their whole dynamic and I’m excited to see it hopefully blossom into something more, and how they deal with all of this.

I’m disappointed that Ashton took the shard, but honestly that’s mostly because I think the narrative is going to be worse/less compelling for it. Seeing Fearne and Ashton learn how to navigate such a connection to another person is infinitely more interesting to me personally than Ashton adding to their already complex stack of abilities. Not saying it’s bad, or uninteresting, just less so than what could have been.

While watching Ashton nearly get shattered (again!!) was incredibly stressful, it was also the kinda high-stakes drama I enjoy. I’m really looking forward to the conversations that’ll come from this in the next episode.

After 4SD, I’m of the opinion that Fearne was scared of the power the shard holds and the potential of being corrupted by it. I also think part of it might have been not wanting to steal Ashton/Tal’s thunder. For Ashton, I reckon it was a combination of things. From their perspective, they’ve been a nobody their whole life, they finally have an opportunity to be a somebody. They want to take hits so others don’t have to. They want to be a hero. I think I get why we ended up here.

Am I a little mad at the characters for being kinda stupid? yes. Am I glad the cast RP their characters making stupid decisions? Also yes. As dumb and avoidable as this all might have been, it was a great piece of entertainment.

I’m surprised that I’ve yet to see anyone talk about Imogen and Laudna being so ready to abandon Ashton when they thought they were going to die… especially considering Ashton’s history. Even more so when looking at Ashton’s own reaction to other party members being close to death. I really hope that gets discussed at the table at some point. Could get some juicy RP moments.

I think I’ve rambled enough for one evening. Really looking forward to next week’s episode, let the drama begin!!

#callowmoore #critical role spoilers #cr spoilers #campaign 3 spoilers #campaign 2 spoilers #ashton greymoore #fearne calloway

[orangepanic]

Baatar Sr. adopts Asami AU for @thatoneguy56fanfic

In spite of their chef’s best efforts the girl—young woman, he supposed—only picked at her food. A small bite of fish here. A single sliver of purple sea onion. She tucked each one into her red-lipped mouth as if putting marbles back in a sack after playtime. Not an ounce of pleasure on her face. Baatar found his eyes drawn to her again and again in the same way one might watch the aftermath of a head-on collision. Asami Sato, both body and ambulance. 

“She’s your daughter’s age,” Suyin teased as soon as they were alone. 

“It’s not funny,” he replied. An uncharacteristic disagreement. “Spirits, Su, can you imagine? Opal said they’d only just reconciled.”

The laughter in his wife’s face faded as she turned away. “No, I can’t,” she said. “But I do know something about not having a father.”

Baatar sucked in a breath. He’d walked right into that one. “I’m sorry, darling,” he said, pulling her close. Suyin slotted against him, so warm and familiar. Her delicate breath tickled his neck. “It’s not a comparison. I only wish we could do more than give her somewhere to visit.”

“Because we don’t have our hands full with Baatar and Kuvira right now?”

“Because Baatar and Kuvira are the reason Asami doesn’t have a father.”

Su had nothing to say to that. 

The next day Baatar began his project. “Excuse me, Asami?” he asked after breakfast. “I wonder if you could lend me a hand?”

Her eyes met his, hollow. “What do you need?”

What Baatar needed took most of the morning. He hadn’t really required a second person to help him move his chalkboard from one side of his workshop to another where the light might be better, but in the end it was nice to have a capable set of hands to balance and measure and mark on the wall. Asami proved swift and efficient. Once the final screws were screwed and they were both thoroughly covered in white chalk dust Baatar asked her if she might review his plans for an expansion of Zaofu’s opera house later on. As a favor. Asami said yes. 

They continued like that the rest of the week. Every day Baatar created a project for which he might need the assistance of a fellow engineer. Some were items on his long to-do list; many he simply made up. And every day Asami agreed to help, and spent anywhere from an hour to half the day working on whatever it was he’d decided needed doing. At first Asami mostly took instruction. But as time passed Baatar started to press her for her own ideas. Did she think the lift should be hydraulic or not? Which way should the road cut? Had she come across a better material for the coating in her own work? To these questions he also started adding the odd bit of fatherly advice or occasional terrible pun. It took three days for Asami to laugh at one of his jokes, but eventually she did. And Baatar found that not only were her ideas often good and not at all what he would have done, but that he got more done that week than he had in the whole two months prior. 

“I’ve missed this,” he said one afternoon as Asami tightened the lug nuts on the last tire of the new heavy duty motorized garden wagon he’d decided the estate somehow needed. Hu Meng was getting old, and while they could simply hire another gardener he’d never much liked changes in staff. 

For a long time Asami didn’t say anything. Sweat dripped down from her hairline into her tank top as she strained against the wrench. But finally Baatar heard it, just a whisper. “Me, too.”

That night he talked to Suyin again. What was one more child after all? With Opal moving in with Bolin they even had a spare bedroom.

“It doesn’t have to be forever,” he said. “Just until she finds her feet again.”

Su gave him a knowing smile. “Sure, Dad,” she said.

#asami sato #baatar sr #tlok #legend of korra #fanfic #drabble

[patchworkgargoyle]

Editor Eddie

Did I write this solely because of the pun? Yes. It was, however, inspired by me wearing my Hellfire shirt and getting ready to sit down and beta a Steddie fic, as well as @inairbinad's Petals in a Storm (which people should go read).

Anyway, here's some extremely fluffy and domestic older!Steddie, with Eddie as a genre fiction/horror editor, in 735 words! Extremely brief and vague mention of a monster eating something's guts.

---

Red-marked pages lay scattered everywhere, solely illuminated by the hulking, faintly buzzing computer monitor that took up a good half of Eddie’s desk. Lips pursed and eyes narrowed, he held up a sheaf of papers with one hand, the other holding his pen to his mouth while he gnawed on the end. He distantly thought that if he kept chewing the pen might break and he’d look much like the monster currently being described in the chapter before him, red dripping down its chin. It was the third time the author had used the word ‘viscera’ in the same paragraph, and while pens didn’t have guts he knew that the ink would probably taste just as bad as that would. But as the monster was, apparently, ‘gleefully gorging’ on the aforementioned viscera, it probably wouldn’t agree.

He put the pages back down on the pile in front of him and scribbled out a few notes – “less viscera, more… entrails, gore, innards perhaps!” – then hunched over the words to continue reading about how the creature turned its horrifying visage towards the protagonist.

Editing was, mostly, the best job Eddie's ever had. Sure, it could be a slog to wade through a sea of purple literary prose or a desert of adjective-less, action-less nonfiction. Those were part of the job (though he’d grown enough to admit that sometimes he found gems even outside his beloved genre fiction tastes), and something he had to endure before he could climb his way to the fiction department. This, though, a carnage-filled horror romp? This was his bread and butter, his home away from home, his shit. Hell, it had been his life once upon a time. Getting to help up-and-coming authors improve their craft with his own love of storytelling and his lived, horrific experiences was awesome. It was one of the things that made March of ‘86 worth the terror and pain and scars.

Eddie was still slouched over the chapter, making note of a few misspellings, and so fully absorbed in his work that he didn’t hear the door to the office creak open. Hadn’t even heard the knock that preceded it. What he did notice was the plate being slid directly on top of the paper, a flaky croissant placed right in the centre, and Eddie suddenly realised he was really fucking hungry.

“How’s my favourite Eddie-tor doing?” Steve asked.

Eddie’s head fell back with the weight of the agony the pun caused and heard a few vertebrae pop. Glaring, he said, “That pun wasn’t funny the first fifty times you said it, sweetheart.”

“I haven’t said it that much.” Despite his defensiveness, Steve still looked entirely too amused at himself, smirking down at Eddie. The hallway light backlit him, casting him in a near halo of soft warmth, contrasted by the pale glare of the computer screen that highlighted his face and caught on the few grey hairs beginning to show. 

Steve was gorgeous still, maybe even more so after over two decades together. Worry lines and laugh lines alike brought a kind of charm and dignity to his face, and just the sight of those silvery strands in his hair always got Eddie feeling emotional. They were proof they’d survived. That it was over. That they could grow old, safely and with each other. He called them mithril just to see Steve’s nose scrunch and eyes roll at his references. 

“Okay,” Eddie conceded, “maybe just forty times.”

Though he scoffed, Steve stepped closer and wrapped his arm around Eddie’s shoulders, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. “You’ve been locked away in here for five hours, babe, you should get up and stretch. Or at least turn on the light.”

“But overhead lights are the work of the devil, Steve, you know this. I can’t work under those conditions.” Eddie gave a shit-eating grin as Steve, with a deadpan expression, flicked on his desk lamp. “Oh yeah. Forgot that was there.” He had. Really.

“You’re so annoying,” Steve sighed, but Eddie saw the smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“You love it.”

The smile spread like the affection in Eddie’s chest at the sight. Steve bent down again, this time capturing Eddie’s lips in a sweet, slow, familiar kiss that made his toes curl just as much as any hungry, needy kiss would. Barely pulling back, Steve whispered, “Yeah. I do.”

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #fanfic #ficlet #sav scrawls stuff #that's gonna be my writing tag

[sardonic-the-writer]

helloooo,

quackity x reader (gender doesn’t matter) where reader comforts him because he’s really burnt out? totally fine if not! 🌹

Quackity loved doing what he did for a living

You had known that from the first moment you ever learned what he did in his free time

His streams were sometimes the highlight of his day. Discord calls with friends for random YouTube uploads became a way to get him to laugh at the dampest moments. And his chat never failed to cheer him up; even if it mostly consisted of the craziest mother fuckers he'd ever heard of

But that can all be too much for someone, even at the best of times. Especially when that someone is trying to wrap up a giant lore plot point and study for lawyer school at the same time

He had called you right after his second to last lore stream

Closing twitch had been probably the biggest relief of that day. If the giant stack of papers in the corner titled "EXAM NOTES" weren't any hint, Big Q was exhausted

And he really needed a friend

You were in a Chipotle, thinking absent-mindedly about that one vine when his name had popped up on your phone screen

It elicited a surprised, yet happy smile from you as you answered the call

The joke you had been prepared to make when sliding the answer button across the screen died in your throat as a tired voice called your name

A very tired voice

The food was forgotten, your feet on auto pilot as you marched straight out of the restaurant and into your car, asking what was wrong all the way there

You knew Quackity had a tendency to over work himself, but you'd never seen him like this before

It had taken a few moments to pry anything out of the man that wasn't reused meme quotes or half hearted puns, but eventually he had shut up and let you say your part

"Alex. Listen to me. Right now, your school work and mental health is more important than Minecraft. Twitch, YouTube, Discord; none of that matters when it comes to you. I know how long you've been wanting to become a lawyer, and you can't do that if your working yourself into the ground over a stupid block game. Message anyone on that server of yours and they'll tell you the same thing. For fucks sake, you know you have millions of fans that would be more than understanding if you took a break for just a bit. Now try actually letting yourself relax for once while I go finish getting my food, okay?"

By the time you had went inside, grabbed your perfectly timed good baggie, and sat back in your car to text him, Quackity had taken your advice and closed all of the tabs on his computer in favor of taking a shower—only after leaving a message to you detailing all that

You had simply rolled your eyes with a soft smile at the text he had left you

Sighing, you started to back your car out of the parking lot

Maybe you should bring him some McDonald's on your way home

#quackity #quackity x reader #mcyt #mcyt x reader #streamer #streamer x reader #dsmp #dsmp x reader #x reader #headcanon #fluff #comfort fic #ask #request #quackity x y/n #quackity x you

[trulybetty]

Sunday | Week In Review VIII

This week's Sunday in review is sponsored by your local Farmer's Market sugared doughnuts, proudly provided by @secretelephanttattoo IYKYK 🍩

Hope everyone had a good week this week! 🙌 Tumblr is still doing it's thing with it's notifications in my activity tab. It's mostly just full of likes and some mentions (I still come across a couple on my dash I wasn't notified of), but mostly it's affecting reblogs. Anyway, if you have something you think I'd be interested in seeing or want to share - feel free to send me an Ask/DM or tag me!

Light reading week again, but it's not to say it wasn't filled with some gems!

T R U L Y U P D A T E S . . .

Happy Birthday (Joel)

W H A T I R E A D . . .

Grocery List (Frankie) by @frenchiereading I'm a sucker for domestic fluff and even more so when it stems from the Shared Breaths universe 💕 - not going to spoil this one if you haven't read the main series (which I will always shout out) - but there's a broccoli recipe here that still makes my mouth water when I think about it and I really want to try making it (if only I could conjure Frankie just as easily)

You’re Perfect for Me (Marcus P.) by @boliv-jenta The Marcus Pike thots were out in full effect this week and it started for me with this little one shot. Marcus needing some help unwinding from a tough day? Sign me up!

machine wash warm (Marcus P.) by @idolatrybarbie some more domesticity, this time from our boy Marcus (he's made for it really) and while short, it doesn't skimp on the feelings and a man who will wash your bedding and deal with the fitted sheet? Yes please!

Delta Landscaping | Chapter 6: Jeeps, Texts, and Sliders (Triple Frontier) by @rhoorl This series has be in a permanent choke hold and I'll eat up anything Jess puts out (have you checked out her Dieter series and her Frankie one shot, because you should!) and this series is the gift that keeps on giving and helps satisfy my Will Miller thots. This weeks installment is no different - we've got tensions building with Will and Katie, Benny and his big brother relationship with Connor, Santiago being Santiago and David living his best life (I want to be his bestie). Hands down one of the best things to come from thots over the Delta boys clearing Reader's garden in @goodwithcheese's 'Layover Series' (which you should read too)

The House (Jack) by @gemmahale I was so happy to get started on this series this week! The week took a left turn and I couldn't devour the rest of it as I wanted, but this is on the docket to catch with this week! It's full of intrigue and mystery and that's just the first chapter! I can't wait to see how this plays out with Andrea getting reacquainted with her grandfathers property and the history it holds.

glass (Marcus P.) by @idolatrybarbie I could be bias because this was written based on the prompts I sent over for Bea's fifty follower celebration, but it doesn't need that, because it's so good all in on it's own! We've got fluff, we've got Marcus (did I mention it's Marcus?), we've got some spice and we've got action! I'm never one to pressure authors to write fanfics, but if Bea were ever to expand on this I'd be all over it.

Butter (Joel) by fuckyeahdindjardin A happy birthday celebration for our main man Joel Miller was more of a gift to us I think. This is so incredibly sweet (pun fully intended) and was just a delight to read that had me squealing all the way through with it's toe curling pure fluff at it's best. In need of a birthday cake to bring home Joel comes across Reader closing up for the night and in exchange for fixing her shutter, she bakes him a cake. Don't sleep on this one!

What Do We Have Here (Javier P.) by @secretelephanttattoo El treated us twice this week! Now I'm still behind on Narcos (hey, I managed an extra episode this week, now a staggering five and a half episodes in!), but even if you didn't have a clue who Elisa was, the spiciness of this fic would soon make up for it! I also learnt a new word, epaulettes. Smut and education in one fanfic? What more can you ask for?

Headshots (Marcus P.) by @secretelephanttattoo Okay, the second of El's offerings this week? Not only has she been bringing the Marcus thots this week, but the fluff too! Imagine showing up to the FBI headquarters to take head shots for the agents and running into Marcus Pike multiple times over the course of a week? Wait, you don't have to! El has crafted it for us and I hear there may be a second part (series?) in the works!

Hypothermia (Joel) by @morallyinept I am the worst camper, so much so Joel Miller would probably leave my sorry ass for the clickers after the grief he'd have with me. But I hope that would be after I get to snuggle up to him for just warmth...

M E M O R A B L E P O S T S . . .

I had some interesting confessions in my Ask Inbox: Joel Thots + Oscar's Cupcakes

All of @penaonthestreets-javiinthesheets's mood boards, because they are all a mooood and a delicious delight for the eyes

The Gif™️ thots were out in full force

Maggie getting the Marcus Pike Puddles going with pancakes and cuddles visuals

Will Miller visual thots, I don't need an excuse to enjoy this over and over again.

B R O U G H T T H E J O Y . . .

How well and truly this community is so lovely - I had a really shitty day at work yesterday and by time I logged in later that night I had some wonderful messages, tags and mentions from absolutely amazing people. I can't even remember how I stumbled back onto Tumblr, but I'm so glad I did. This space really can feel like you're shouting into the abyss sometimes, but sometimes you get a response back with a 'my thots too' and you start to build your own little community.

I think I mentioned it the other day, but likes and numbers really won't hold their value. It's the reblogs with the comments, the thousand gifs/emojis or the back and forth discussions of WIP's in DM's that really make this all the worthwhile.

And also a Costco sized container of pico de gallo... it's about balance friends. But seriously, I've pushed the limits of what I can put it on this week.

T H I S W E E K ' S J A M . . .

This week's song is brought to us by my Chiffon feels as I got back into writing for Dieter x Bryony and this song is very them coded...

Hope everyone is having a fabulous Sunday, whatever it is you're doing and I wish you all a great week ahead! 💕

#betty's sunday in review #sunday week in review #Spotify

[gaybananabread]

Heyyyy! How are you doing?

Can I please request a fic with lee! Raine and Ler! Darius from The Owl House? Raine won't stop calling their group the C.A.Ts, mostly to get a rise out of Darius (it's working😂). Fed up after Raine ignores his warnings, Darius pins him down and wrecks the shit out of him. Raine is a nervous bard, so he cannot stand tickle anticipation and Darius knows this. Cut to a few minutes later and Raine is giggling up a storm while Darius is just smiling at him and saying things like, 'I'm not even touching you...'

I am alive, thx for asking! THIS IS SUCH A GOOD PROMPT LIKE- It's cute and fluffy and I love it. I'm gonna be honest, i pumped most of this out after midnight. I hope this doesn't suck. Sorry this took so long, schoolwork started back up and I got swampedddd. Enjoy!

Lee: Raine

Ler: Darius

Summary: Raine is being a little shit and annoying Darius with the group name. He decides to teach the pesky bard a lesson.

Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don't like that, scroll away!

"Or, for short, the CATTS!"

Darius despised that name. Not because of the stupidity, and not because of embarrassment. He hated it because Raine loved to annoy him with it. Every chance they got, every set-up for a cat pun, Raine would be there to tease him about it.

Now, Raine wasn't doing it maliciously, of course. They didn't want to actually upset the other coven head. They just saw a way to make the ever-stoic and sassy Darius groan or stifle a laugh. So, like any reasonable person would, they did it as often as possible. Just to see the ghost of a smile or hear the small, choked sound of a chuckle from the man. Some days they just took it a bit too far. Today was one of those days.

-

Running through the halls of the base, Raine searched for Darius. They had the perfect idea for new masks. Luz had shown them some drawings of human-world cats, and they absolutely loved them. True, soft and fluffy isn't exactly a typical rebellion style, but that can change. At the very least, it'll be fun to annoy Darius with.

Finally, they found the abominations head. He was fixing some of the damaged uniforms and clothes for the members. Raine ran up to him, showing him the pad of paper. "Darius! What do you think of these new designs for the CATTS uniforms?"

He didn't respond for a second, waiting to see if that was a joke. When he found out it wasn't, he shook his head, sighing. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Raine, I don't even know where to- are those paw-pad gloves?"

Raine nodded excitedly, pointing to the glove design. "Yeah! I figured, since we're the CATTS, we might as well look the part. You, Eda, Luz and me even get tails." They smirked, turning the page to show him their outfits. They had Darius in a purple-themed calico cat outfit. They even had cat ears in the design. "I think they're purr-fect. What about you?"

That little... they're so dead. Using his magic, he sent an abomination to grab Raine, holding the bard's arms above their head and keeping them in place. He stood from his workbench, slowly making his way over to the restrained Raine.

"Raine Whispers... I belive I've told you about my thoughts on the whole cat thing, correct?" Darius placed his hand on their side, just resting it there. Raine nodded, squirming under his touch. They knew what was coming. "I thought so. And what, exactly, are those thoughts?"

Raine shrugged, a wobbly smile on their face. They knew they were screwed. The bard twisted and tugged at their arms, but the abomination didn't budge. Darius had them right where he wanted them. "Let me remind you: I am NOT AMUSED!"

With a playful growl, Darius dug his fingers into the bard's sides, roughly clawing and poking at the sensitive skin. Raine squealed, squirming and tugging at their goopy restraints. The abomination didn't budge.

"DAHARIHUHUHUS! PLEHEHEASE!" Darius going straight for their sides was not something they were ready for. Raine's laughter was loud and pitchy, their cheeks quickly reddening. It was their worst spot, after all.

"Please? I remember saying that many times when you would make cat puns or annoy me with that cursed team name. And, as I'm sure you remember, you did not stop. It's fitting that I shouldn't either."

Darius was enjoying himself. Sure, it's a bit childish, but it gets the job done. He would never harm his friend, and the tickling gets his message aross just fine. Did he need to be so cruel about it? No, but that's half the fun.

That "fun" is a very different story when you're on the receiving end. Sure, it wasn't awful, but their death spot for too long was getting a bit intense. "COHOHOME OHON! GAHAHA- GOHOHO SOHOMEWHERE EHEHEHELSE!"

His fingers immediately moved up to Raine's neck, fluttering his fingers across the pinkened skin. He didn't wanna push their boundaries. Their loud, shaky laughter turned to squeaky, almost childish giggling. It did nothing to help their blush, the red color quickly spread further down his neck and to his ears.

"Dahahahariuhus! Quihihit it!" They scrunched up their shoulder as best as they could, trying to block Darius's hands. "Maybe someone should've laid off on the feline puns." He was honestly just having fun teasing the bard at this point, though they didn't need to know that.

Raine didn't know if their face could get any more red. Their bouncy, squeaky giggles were music to Darius's ears. Though he couldn't stay there forever. That'd just be unfair, both to him and Raine. He let his hands drift downward, stopping on the bard's ribcage.

Their gigging ramped back up into laughter, though it wasn't half as loud as before. Raine tugged at their arms, but to no avail. Darius's magic held them firmly in place and at his mercy. "You know, you've really brought this upon yourself. I've told you countless times not to bring up the cat thing around me. Yet you still press me, daily, on the matter. It's almost as if you wanted this."

The bard shook their head, hastily denying the comment. They knew he was just teasing, but still. Raine wasn't exactly aiming for this result, but it's not unwelcome in the least. They might've wanted to make Darius chuckle, but they weren't against having a laugh themselves. No reason for Darius to know that, though. "GEHEHET OFF! DAHAHARIUS!"

Darius suddenly got a very fun, very mean idea. Inspired by his friend's words, he pulled his hands away, hovering them over their sides. "Alright then. If you wish, I'll stop touching you." He teasingly wiggled his fingers, just shy of meeting their skin. They giggled and twisted around, eyeing his hands nervously. Oho, that prick-

"Dariuhuhus! Thahat- this ihisn't fair!" The abomination covenhead just huffed, shaking his head. "You need to make up your mind, Raine. 'Touch me, don't touch me.' It's rather confusing." He acted like he was going to go for their sides, faking them out at the last moment. The bard squealed and jolted out of instinct, making the other coven head laugh.

"I'm not even touching you, Raine. If you're that ticklish, I think you should invest in some body armor. I mean, if Belos found out about this, you'd be toast. A few illusionists sending some feathers near your sides and poof: no more revolution." He wiggled his fingers teasingly, drawing a line in the air right above their stomach. It was kinda cute how they giggled and squirmed at the almost-touch.

"Wohohohould you juhust- quihit! This ihis ehehevil!" They hate anticipation. It's just... why? They know he's gonna tickle them again, why drag it out like that? Their giggles bounced around the room as they squirmed like a worm on a hook.

"Why would I ever do that? And what do you mean by quit? Quit stalling and tickle you again, quit teasing you, quit calling you out? There's a lot of possibilities here, Raine. You've got to be specific."

He smirked, just hovering his hands over their sides. His fingers twitched absent-mindedly, sending shivers down the other's spine. Raine knew they weren't getting out of there without getting tickled again. Might as well own it.

"Juhust- shut uhup ahand t-tickle me ahalready!" Darius could've been very mean. He had plenty of things to tease the bard with. Their burning cheeks, stuttering on the t-word, eagerness to get wrecked. But he didn't. He dug his fingers into Raine's sides once again, clawing and scratching and wiggling his fingers on their death spot.

Raine all but shrieked. The anticipation had made everything twice as bad, their laughter loud and boisterous. It's not something you see- or hear -every day. "NAHAHAHA! DAHAHARIUHUHUS! IHIT- GAHAHAHA!"

The man was silent, just smirking as he wrecked the poor bard. Even though they had literally asked for it, Darius would feel guilty if he teased them. At least for the moment. He just tickled them, his fingers scribbling mercilessly against Raine's sides.

Barely two minutes later, Raine was practically done. Their squirming had almost stopped, their laugh taking on a wheezing edge. If not for the abomination, they would have collapsed by now. Seeing the behavior shift, Darius slowly stopped his tickling, rubbing at their sides to try and calm the phantom tickles. "You alright, Raine?"

Said bard all but went limp in the abomination's grip, hanging their head as they got the rest of their giggles out. They were exhausted, the tickling thoroughly tiring them out. Darius chuckled as he wrapped an arm around them. He dismissed the abomination, catching before they could faceplant. They mumbled a "thanks" before going limp in his arms.

Darius led them over to their bunk, laying them down and pulling the thin blanket over them. Raine didn't react much as they melted into the soft mattress. Darius shook his head, unable to wipe the smile off his face as he left them to rest.

Maybe he could make just one of those uniforms... if only to humor them. Yes, that sounds right. Sitting back at his workbench, Darius grabbed some fuzzy fabric, making Raine's CATTS design. The things he does for his friends...

#toh tickle #lee!raine #ticklish!raine #ler!darius #sfw tickling community #tickle fic #tickle #the owl house tickle #the owl house #toh #raine whispers #darius deamonne #the CATTS

[crplpunkklavier]

I'm rereading Exorcism (now that its finished! yahoo) and I love Kitty Poes sm shes such an interesting characterrr would you wanna tell me about your process for developing her? ig I couldve DMed you but I myself love a chance to rant publicly so here you go lmao. I am unfortunately only on chapter 14 (though I got further than that last time) so if you wanna be spoilery just give me a warning and I'll read it later >:3c

kitty my best friend kitty

i think i can go over this without any spoilers past chapter 14! you have already seen her big arc and i am sooo happy people liked her <333

so! i've never mentioned this to anyone before, but kitty is a bit of a riff off of one of my oldest OCs. when i was about 18, i was big into katekyo hitman reborn, mostly because i was even bigger into organized crime as a general topic. catalena foggia was the youngest of four, and after a rival family took out her parents and all three of her older brothers (you know, the sort of backstory you give people as a teenager) she very grimly stepped up to the throne.

now whenever i need a female character with a "hello, i Run This Place" air about her, my mind goes to catalena, who of course was called cat by all her friends.

and i knew that i wanted a character like that as klavier's manager. generally, whenever i get to make OCs for my aa fics, i try to make most of them women if they aren't already implied to be men by canon like the rest of the gavinners, since aa refuses to have adult female characters that don't die. the gavinners started out as a bunch of teenage guys, the music industry is tough as nails, LA is horrible..... nobody but cat could've done it, man.

the whole dutch connection sort of happened on the fly. i knew i didn't want to call her catalena foggia, even if nobody but, like, the two irl friends i still have who knew me at 18 lol, knew of that oc. it was still important to me to differentiate, because this wasn't cat, this was a new oc who was very similar to and inspired by her. i remembered that kitty is a valid first name, so i went for that, because i like to think i'm funny. :^)

once you reach the end of exorcism, you'll find a little gdoc with bonus content i left in the end notes there, which among other things contains explanations for all the pun names i've used in the fic. including kitty's, but i'll reiterate here: the reason i stuck with a cat theme was that klavier gavin, in my mind, is absolutely a golden retriever, so i wanted to give him a manager/babysitter who is a cat. a big cat. kitty is short in stature, but i mention her lion's mane of hair often enough in the text, so, u know.

that's also part of what i wanted her to be. yeah, she had to be tough simply for the industry and for the fact that she was managing teenagers for a while, but i also knew that i wanted to give klavier friends, and people in his life who really care about him, and will stick with him through all this. kitty is lawfully loyal: if she doesn't agree with something, she has no trouble walking out, but once she actually takes to someone like she took to klavier, she will be fiercely protective. i never mentioned her age, but i imagined her in exorcism to be somewhere in her mid to late 40s. she's seasoned, she's experienced, she's capable - she's what klavier deserves!!! that's what i wanted. kristoph and daryan are so painfully incompetent, when it comes down to it. klavier needs people in his life who know what they're doing.

so, i wanted a big little lion lady for my dog boy. i sort of just clicked through my various dictionaries for a while looking up different cat terms in different languages to see if any of them sounded enough like a last name, and that's how i landed on poes. only after that did i decide to make the dutch conundrum A Thing.

thank you for asking about her <33333 enjoy the rest of the fic, feel free to keep me posted about ur reading experience too :3c

#extraterezi #exorcism tag

[wellbelesbian]

20 questions for fic writers!

tysm for tagging me @bazzybelle, it took me a while to get around to this but it was a lot of fun!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

37!

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

113,598, not bad.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

mostly the Simon Snow Trilogy, but I have a couple of Greek Mythology/Epic Cycle fanfics too. i used to write for Percy Jackson and Marve, but not anymore.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

two old Marvel fics are right at the top, then it’s:

i want the love on your wrist (oh give me the heart on your neck), the first explicit work i’ve ever written, maybe a sign i should write more.

The Tale of the Two Merwolves, which I wrote with a bunch of other lovely people in the fandom

Everything I Am Not, my COTTA fic from 2020

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

yes, I always try to!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

definitely crimson, my COTTA fic from 2022, but a close second is Visions, a little Trojan War Helenus fic i still really like.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

well a lot of my fics have fairly happy endings, but I’d say All That She Wants, an Agatha-centric fic, and Happier Memories, a proposal fic, have the most hopeful endings.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

no, I don’t think I ever have, luckily!

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

only twice so far, though I have another stewing in my brain that might get written. I can’t really say i'm limited to a certain “type” though, i’m pretty versatile, pun intended.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

no, they’re not really my thing.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not to my knowledge! i hope not.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

back when i used to write on wattpad i got some DMs asking to translate my fics and i always agreed, but i don’t know if they ever followed through.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

yes, i really love doing so! I wrote a stucky fic with one of my friends years ago, but we never ended up posting it anywhere. also, the two aforementioned marvel fics were co-written with another (now ex) friend, and the tale of two merwolves was written as part of a group.

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

snowbaz, definitely. it’s been my longest-running OTP (do people still say OTP?) and i’ve written so any fics for it.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

hmm, i’ve only got 3 wips and i think i’ll finish them all eventually, but blow on the tinder and we are slaves to the gods are definitely on the back burner for now.

16. What are your writing strengths?

i’ve been told i’m good at writing dialogue, which is good because that’s two thirds of all the words i write.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

descriptions and anything sappy, which gives me second hand embarrassment.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

i tend to shy away from it, but if i do i always put it in italics and will put a translation in the notes unless it’s super obvious, and like when other authors do the same.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Percy Jackson! I wrote so much solangelo and was actually pretty popular on wattpad, one of my fics broke a million hits which is still insane to me. i still get the occasional message asking me to come back and finish my fics, but i logged out of that account in 2018 and am not going back.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

oh, that’s hard. i’m really enjoying writing Shoulder To Shoulder right now, but i still love All That She Wants and Liar Liar. i also really love I’m On My Way To Believing, which is a greek mythology Pyrrhus/Hermione fic. they’re my blorbos. but i’d have to say my all-time favourite will always have to be the first carry on fic i ever wrote, which got me out of a years long writing slump: Rats.

i don't know who has already done this, so i'll just tag @ileadacharmedlife @prettygoododds @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @imagineacoolusername @ic3-que3n @forabeatofadrum @aristocratic-otter @larkral @hushed-chorus @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @youarenevertooold @artsyunderstudy @alexalexinii @shrekgogurt and @j-nipper-95

#tag game #long post

[aurora-313]

Sometimes characters with just one scene become extremely popular. Why do you think that Masaki took off and has a huge fanbase, while our dear boy Kaien has like 3 fans total? Why isn't he insanely popular?

I admit that personally I have strange tastes, not to be a hipster, for example I liked the chemistry between Fin and Rey and so no romance between Kylo and Rey, and to the internet I'm of apparently disgustingly wrong opinion.

I can't say I have the definitive answer but I can give my two cents:

Masaki has the advantage of being Ichigo's mother and the circumstances surrounding her death are somewhat mysterious.

Ichigo is the main character and she functionally serves as a major source of his angst for... extremely questionable, vague plot and character reasons. (mostly because the plot can't function if anyone bothered to tell Ichigo literally everything he has every fucking right to know, but hey... -.- )

But if I may tangent for a moment: Masaki being a Quincy is something that still has me seeing red. There's a whole other plot progression that could've made more sense and been far more concise without unnecessarily dragging a boring Quincy cast and an Aizen knock-off with a bad mustache out of the dumpster. Which would've also tied everything up in a bow with Aizen's defeat without destroying every modicum of Ichigo's agency... but that's another post for another time.

Circling back to your question: I think if the anime adapted the scenes more faithfully, especially in Soul Society, we'd have seen a larger fanbase for Kaien. A lot of Kaien's references were simply omitted. EG; Ukitake wondering what Kaien would do in the whole scenario (up to and including likely literally kicking Byakuya's ass), Rukia asks his memory why would people come for her, Byakuya flashing back with disgust and a modicum of respect when he compares Ichigo's ferocious will with Kaien's and the abandoned implied reincarnation storyline Kubo set up then abandoned during the Aizen confrontation then we'd have a lot more fans of him.

A majority of fans got into Bleach through the anime, and the anime omitted massive parts of the story that removed meaning from Kaien's character. Worst still, the last thing we see of him is an Arrancar puppeting his corpse. Which means a lot of his 'personality' is relegated to some doppelganger twisting him into monstrous parody. What a note to end on, right?

At the same time, I can see why his presence was so diminished across the manga. He entered the narrative as Rukia's source of guilt, as Ukitake's source of inspiration, as Ichigo's spiritual predecessor, as the one who introduced the concept of heart to Rukia and then gracefully bow out when Rukia allowed herself to take his final lessons to heart (pun intended) and absolve herself of guilt, symbolized in her third Zanpakutou power. (I am shocked however that given Rukia's fight with As Nodt, that we didn't get a cameo in that fear cage, especially considering given, canonically, her most horrific memory was of Metastacia!Kaien... but hey.)

But given how Kubo forgot the Visoreds were the ideal counter to the Quincy and forgot they had their masks, reducing them to chumps, how could I expect him to remember someone like Kaien...?

...

Wow. You admit to liking those characters? I'd delete them all in a heartbeat if I got Kyle Katarn, Jan Ors and Mara Jade instead... but I wouldn't trust Lucas Fims to write their way out of a paper bag if their life depended on it right now.

#kaien shiba #rukia kuchiki #bleach #ichigo kurosaki #masaki kurosaki #for the record I mean my last comment in jest #I have no love for the sequel trilogy #It says something when you make the prequels look like Shakespeare...