#too many fic ideas and not enough time to write them all 😭

[revolvingfanatic]

HIIIII okay so I’ve recently found your fanfics a Puss in boots, and I’ve officially become obsessed just the way you write the characters and the Settings that they are in are so good and like the way you enter angst is so good. The one thing I do wanna see though no hate your literally amazing is maybe Puss in the wrong I like dynamic where death realizes he’s wrong for his past action reflects because that is so strong and I love that we love a good redemption, but I would also like to see Puss maybe Being a little too mean or biased, or assuming not out of being mean or wrong, but out of like trauma, his past experiences with dad, have now shaped his choices towards him, and he realizes how much it’s affecting the way he treats him I don’t know I’m just babbling at this point but anyways much love and support. Please keep fighting writing,living and much love.

Bumbleb33_s - my a03 name

Hi! First off, thank you so much! It fills my heart with joy to hear someone enjoy my work so much 💖 And honestly that’s a route I’ve purposefully avoided going with my fics because I like Puss so much and he did nothing to deserve all the traumatic stuff Death put him through, BUT, that being said, I did actually recently come up with an idea that would fit in with Puss being meaner to him than he deserves now that you bring it up. I doubt I’ll end up actually writing it out since I don’t have the time, but the basic idea is that the reason Death did what he did was because he knew Puss would die if he didn’t step in.

Like, I found out that Death only popped up at times that Puss could very well die (except probably the cave), like when Puss is drinking at the bar after the talk with Dr. Mendez (he could well have drunk himself to death with that “heaviest cream”), when he’s leaving Jack Horner’s with the map and flaming arrows are being shot at him, the battle where Jack is shooting unicorn horns, and the final battle. And maybe he knew the only way to get Puss to truly value his final life instead of relying on more and eventually tearing through those as well, was to teach him what true fear felt like, and challenge him the way he did.

BUT, since Death isn’t actually allowed to interfere to extend lives (going purely by the rules of this fic), and this would fall under that umbrella, he couldn’t make it seems like that was his goal, instead acting like he was insulted and wanted to just torment Puss before killing him out of spite.

THEN he needs Puss’ help with something really important, otherwise bad stuff would happen to a lot of people (like a continent getting destroyed or something, idk, lol), and Puss only agrees after Death signs a pact that he won't hurt Puss or his friends. Now, since Puss isn’t afraid that Death will kill him at the drop of a hat, he feels a lot more free to say whatever he wants, which is usually some kind of jab at Death’s character (like “I’ll handle this one and nicely ask for directions, because I believe that were it up to you you’d probably threaten them at sickle point, since that seems to be how you solve your problems.”, “Yes, we could actually try to win the challenge, but why do that when you can just unfairly overpower them with your godly powers like you did with me?”, “Stand back, you’ll just give them nightmares with nothing more than your stunning personality.” etc) as a way to get back at his tormentor.

Death can’t defend his actions though, as he can’t let Puss know the truth. That he actually really admired and respected Puss (and still does), which is why he stuck his neck out in the first place. And also Death is a nice person in general, and basically just played the part of an evil jerk when dealing with Puss before. So he just takes it.

BUT THEN Puss notices how Death acts throughout their quest/journey (especially when he thinks Puss isn’t looking/paying attention). That he’s actually kind, considerate, and cares about others’ feelings (even something like a bug, helping it by flipping it over when it’s stuck on it’s back, and putting a baby bird back in its nest that got tipped, etc), and tries to figure out how that made any sense at all, considering what he put Puss through just a few weeks prior.

Eventually he does figure it out though (maybe right after the end of the adventure, when everything is resolved), putting Death’s actions through the lens of what seems to be his actual personality and moral compass. When confronting Death about it, Death urges him to stop, to not say what he’s thinking, but he can’t actually stop Puss, and when the words are out in the open Death gets in trouble with the higher powers.

Not wanting Death to be punished for what he did to him, since he now knew why he did it, Puss maybe goes through some trials to get an audience with said higher powers, and works his charms to get Death off the hook. Then they become friends or fall in love or something, the end~

#ask answered #thanks again for the kind words and inspiration! #puss in boots #too many fic ideas and not enough time to write them all 😭 #puss in boots the last wish #btw if anyone wants to actually write this out as a fic please feel free! #death the wolf #deathpuss #pussdeath #pibtlw

[fivefeetfangirl]

Me clutching my 5 fic wips while not having updated on ao3 since 2021: guys I promise I promise hand on my heart I'm a fic writer I love to write I swear on my grandma's grave I'm a fic writer I write fics

#anyone else feeling stressed out cause theyre not creatikg fast enough?? #i literally feel it everyday especially during the summers like i don't want to sit on my laptop all day when its sunny and warm but i also #wanna write so bad #wait i just realised i wrote that sammy fic this year #and i have made some amvs too actually but theyre kinda lost in the void lol and two of them are from shows #no one on tumblr has watched so i ended up not sharing one of them #also if i did share it everyone would go thats so deancoded yeah i know it is 😭 the song is literally about a giu crashing his chevy dont #you think i think about that song everyday and how its the perfect dean song unfortunately its not in english and i get kinda demotivated #making non english amvs cause I feel people like amvs to songs they know but guys you are.missing out on THEE dean song #anyways might fuck around and make that chevy dean amv sometime we'll see i have so many ideas for amvs and fics rn so only time will tell #whats gonna happen

[stararch4ngelqueen]

domestic jason hcs? >:)

(this ask feels self-indulgent but i was VERY inspired by this one buff dude i saw on insta reels baking in a not-so-sexual way but like women in the comments are down bad and i cant really describe it im so sorry 😭)

imagine waking up to jason baking something (doesnt have to be anything could just be bread). you wanna help but the only instructions he gives you is to sit pretty, wearing his shirt and all. everytime he moves around the kitchen, he give u a lil peck on the lips if hes close enough to you. youre just sitting pretty like he asked, watching this man work and looking a little love struck cuz all you wanna do is pull him down and give him the fattest kiss for being so husband material

(dude, im yearning so much. thank u for writing a lot for jason 💞 ALSO ive seen u around in the cod tag so another thanks for ur fics there too 💞)

I’m sticking with the prompt cause I had unholy thoughts. An thank you! I appreciate your appreciation for my works ✨

This may be the tiniest bit suggestive 🌝

Time Written - 5:51 a.m

Baking at an early hour was somewhat new for Jason.

Baking at an early hour after an intense ending to an incredible date night was incredibly new for Jason.

His hands were occupied with an intriguing scene of soft dough and hard, rich yellow butter on a marble countertop. His muscles at work folding in the pockets of butter into the dough, pressing it with the heels of his palms.

“Morning, mama.” His morning voice held that early rasp in his tone that tickled you just right. You reciprocated his greeting as you walk into the kitchen, dressed in one of his shirts he aggressively yanked off the night before.

There he stood in grey sweatpants. Baking something delectable for seemingly no reason.

“What’s the occasion?” You question as you approach the counter, admiring his bed rugged hair adding onto his every attractive appearance.

“Cloudy outside, which means baking time.”

“Baking time?” The slightest glance at your cheeky little grin made him amusingly scoff.

“Baked goods,” he clarified with a head gesture behind him. “Coffee’s ready for ya, babe.”

Soon, the kitchen will flood with the warm aroma of browning butter and cooking sugar, invading throughout your home for a very long evening. Neighbors will get jealous over the smell of bakery air, hopefully helping them ignore the noises prior to the other night.

It was quite a sight to watch, his muscles flexing with a focused flare along his brow. You almost didn’t hear his insistence the second time towards the cinnamon coffee waiting in the pot for you.

“Gonna stick around? You’ll get first glance at what I’m making.”

“Which is?” You pry, watching him approach the sink to wash his hands.

“Crossiants,” he admits after drying his hands, giving the tip of your nose a peck. “With chocolate.”

“Look at you, my man’s a baker.” You smile while leaning against the counter, feeling your heart throb romantically from his chaste kisses.

“Not what you expected, huh?”

“What, my Red Hood busting skulls and baking? So many single moms would chase after you if they could.”

That comment has him unexpectedly laugh. Not the worst thing he’s been told, so he’ll take it. Poor single mothers, too bad he’s already taken.

“I thought you meant the chocolate would be inside?” You ask after peeking at the dough he wrapped up in cling wrap.

“No,” He shakes his head. “See, I thought that, but I like the idea of dipping them into melted chocolate a whole lot better.”

“Where’d you get the inspiration?”

“France,” he amusingly huffs with a shrug after approaching to take the packet you handed to him. “Thanks baby. Where else?”

He slips the packet of buttered dough into the fridge before turning towards the stove, almost running into you as you beat him to it, peering into a saucepan full of melted chocolate.

“Hey, hey.” Cool, clean hands gently grasped hold of your shoulders, gently nudging you away from his little workspace. “Easy on those eyes, almost knocked you into an accident.”

“Need some help with anything?” You offer, reminding him of when he used to ask his mother the same question. Happy little memories that brought embers of warmth in his heart.

“You can be of huge help,” He begins, calloused hands grazing down along your fingerprint shaped bruised hips before hoisting you up in his arms like a little doll.

“By sitting pretty, an’ letting me work.”

He plops you down on a stool he pulled out from the island counter, giving you a perfect little spot to watch him work. You slouch after he turns away, watching him return to his little objective on the stove.

“You just melt chocolate in the pan like that?”

“Sorta,” Jason tilts his head after grabbing a spoon, stirring the smooth, ganache-like chocolate concoction around. “France’s version of hot chocolate. Some milk, cream, a little sugar.”

You hum as a response, watching the muscles along the back of his left shoulder move as he enacts upon such a simple, minor task. Jason probably said something else, along the lines of not wanting such a beautiful body of chocolate boil on the stove, but it wasn’t much of your concern as it was his.

Maybe your main concern was how exactly did the scratches you left along his back didn’t break skin, clinging onto him for dear life as they flexed along your greedy palms.

He probably knew that, he was hiding a smile for all you could tell if you paid any attention.

“My girl want a taste?” He offers, his real gaze snapping your mind back into reality. You nod, anxiously sitting up in your seat.

He spoons warm, melted chocolate on the top of your tongue, watching it dribble down your bottom lip. The pink of your little tongue swiped up the remnants, all for Jason’s adoring gaze to witness.

Your reaction varies upon the subtle lack of sweetness from the chocolate.

“It’s not that sweet. Is it dark—?”

Your words are stolen when he kisses you, cradling your face within his two warm hands after carelessly setting down the spoon.

His heavy lidded gaze meets yours after breaking off the kiss, his cheeks flushed with affectionate warmth.

“Don’t know,” his glistening lips curve upwards after licking his lips. “Tastes pretty sweet to me.”

He turns away, as if he hadn’t committed such a crime in the first place.

You’re left watching once again, anxious nerves preventing you from sitting still. Fidgety fingers lingering in your lap, grasping along the lower hem of your shirt.

“Also coffee,” Jason pitches as if he forgot. “Added a little espresso to enhance the taste. You, uh… never got your coffee, babe.”

Oh. Right. The first thing he told you when you came in.

“Sorry,” you sheepishly admit, slightly shifting your hips whilst on the stool. “Got a little distracted.”

He chuckles, not even needing a detective’s mindset to understand fully why. “Did you now?”

Not giving you a chance to answer, Jason sets the saucepan off the burner before turning full attention towards you. Swooping you off the stool you sat, hoisting you ontop of a warm, clean counter.

His torso pressed against yours, keeping you comfortably confined between a marble surface and a hard place. His hands caress along your torso, thumbs trickling over your stiff nipples through your shirt, still sore from his teeth marks.

“Took you long enough,” he grumbles against the shell of your ear. His lips press against your neck as you swallow, kissing down along your collarbone. “Figured you’d have stayed sleeping in ‘till I was done here. Guessin’ last night wasn’t enough for you?”

“Your fault for putting on a show.” You whisper, hooking your legs the best you could around his broad waist.

He chuckles against your neck, his excitement as palpable as his pearly smile expressed. “Your fault for watchin’, mama.”

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x fem!reader #dc jason todd #jason todd x y/n #there’s no unique reason I chose crossiants #just sounded fun 🌝 #when the post nut clarity so strong you gotta bake your girl some goods #gotham knights jason todd #jason todd x #jason todd dc #don’t hate me

[pinkanonwrites]

HEHEHE I LOVE THE RODIMUS STORYY I'm obsessed with all the first contact au stories with rodimus and I would love if you could please do more if you ever feel like it 😭 the ones with language barrier and size difference are muah 🤌💫

If youre ever up for it or would feel comfortable, would you be willing to please write one where maybe the reader is sick with the flu and is either about to or actually does throw up and rodimus has no idea what the flu is or what throwing up is for humans and he has no idea how to deal with it 😅 and ofc the human can't explain bc language barrier.

Or any other rodimus with lil human stuff you can post I will happily gobble up hehe

I liked this idea too much for it to just be in bullet points, so it turned into a mini fic. Hope you enjoy!

Rodimus/Reader First Contact AU, Human Reader, GN Pronouns, Sickfic, emeto mention

Gazing blearily up at the ceiling as fluorescent lighting above whizzed past, you couldn’t fully tell if the nauseating pitch and wave of your surroundings was just from your sickness, or if panic was making Rodimus significantly less gentle than usual. Either way, if you had anything left in your stomach you probably would have thrown up again by now.

How foolish you were, to assume that being on an interdimensional traveling spaceship meant you would be less likely to suffer from the illnesses and maladies that you would normally find on Earth. No, now you were subject to an entire galaxy’s worth of potential contractible ailments instead. And though you could compare this one to some of the worse stomach viruses you’d had throughout your life back home, you didn’t really have a way to communicate to Rodimus that you weren’t, in fact, dying. No matter how much it felt like you were.

The hiss of a hydraulic powered door was almost drowned out by your caretaker’s panicked boops and screeches as he ran up to another one of the bots aboard the ship. A black helm and a shoulder-mounted cannon stepped into your nausea-warped vision, and a familiar gleam of a single, blue lens stared down at you. One of the scientist bots, the nicer one of the two that had poked and prodded at you when Rodimus first presented you to them. His name was… Perceptor?

But when he reached out a giant metal finger to you, Rodimus was quick to pull you back against his chest and out of the other’s reach. A kind gesture, but one that left you nearly gagging from the sudden wave of vertigo that racked your system. You winced at the feeling of Rodimus’s thumb brushing your cheek, the sticky pull of sweaty skin against hot metal, and the warble he let out in response sounded absolutely heartbroken. Through your hazy vision you could see tense corners of his mouth pull down, the soft glow of his eyes looking dimmer than usual as he cradled you. Then, with as much care as he could muster, he laid you so delicately upon Perceptor’s desk. His fingers stroked the top of your head, hands still bracketing you as if he was afraid you’d slip through his fingertips and right off the edge of the table as soon as he let his guard down. Despite everything, you couldn’t help but feel safer knowing he was worried about you. It was hard to imagine many worse scenarios than getting sick in outer space, but getting sick alone in outer space seemed pretty high up there.

So you let yourself be gently prodded at and scanned by Perceptor, Rodimus’s hands never straying far enough for you to not reach him. They murmured back and forth to each other all the while, a chittering of mechanical whirs and buzzes like an old fax machine pumping out a distant message. The chill of the metal surface under your back left goosebumps crawling up your skin, another detail that quickly drew Perceptor’s curiosity. After an amount of time you couldn’t possibly have estimated with your sickness-addled, swimming mind working at less than half the capacity of usual, both bots leaned away from the table to discuss something, like they were afraid you’d somehow overhear.

The sudden, harsh glow of the ceiling lights above left you squinting, a soft whimper escaping your throat despite yourself. Immediately Rodimus was upon you again, his giant chin resting on the edge of the table as his eyes flitted about over your shaking, exhausted frame. His hands hovered around you, fingers tense like he wasn’t sure if he should pick you up or not. But the warmth of his massive hands was a lot more comforting right now than the sterile chill of the tabletop, so with a great amount of effort you wormed your way back into his grasp.

Perceptor let out another, stern sounding buzz. Rodimus brought you back to his chest, resting your cheek against the smooth slope of metal as he responded in kind. You let your eyelids flutter shut as they continued to chatter. Whatever they were talking about didn’t really matter to you right now. Regardless of whatever was going on, you knew Rodimus would take care of you.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“And it’s not atrophosia? You’re sure?”

“Just because atrophosia comes from organics, Rodimus, does not mean they can contract it. No, what we’re looking at seems to be some form of organic virus.”

“That’s good, right?” Rodimus peeked at Perceptor from the corner of his optic, unwilling to take his full attention off of you for too long. Your little frame was sprawled weakly across the scientist’s desk, organic coolant and these strange, microscopic bumps beading across your body. Perceptor let out a curious hum, lifting your tiny servo up with the tip of his pen. Rodimus stifled the urge to slap it away. “If it’s a virus, it can be removed, right?”

“It’s not quite that simple. Organics don’t have accessible coding to allow ourselves entry. Their only solution is the old fashioned way, get plenty of recharge and wait it out.”

“But look at them! They’re all shaky and covered in coolant! A-And just earlier today, they purged their tanks!”

“That’s a good thing. Organics will purge their tanks as an emergency reflex to intrusive disease or illness. There’s actually a fascinating organic, a form of amphibian which can expel their entire tank when in-”

“Great! Cool! Love the fun facts, Perceptor! But are they-” And here Rodimus gestured to your small, shivering frame, “-going to be okay?”

“I’ve acquired some information on human illness- from Swerve of all bots, if you’d believe it. When humans are ill they require copious recharge, plenty of clean, desalinated water, and, apparently, a fuel comprised of the boiled carcass of an Earth bird and various edible flora.”

“I don’t have any Earth birds! Earth has the Earth birds!” Rodimus sat up with a jolt, a bristling wave of heat rolling off of his frame that was swiftly ignored by Perceptor.

“I am certain the replicator could produce a suitable substitute. It has worked for providing nourishment thus far.”

Both bots’ attention snapped back to you when you let out a small whine, squinting under the blaring light of the overhead systems. 

“Oh, hey, I’m sorry bud!” Rodimus’s voice dropped to a soft coo as he hovered his servos back around your frame. “Is it too bright in here, your optics sensitive?”

“Perhaps it would be good for the human to rest here, where they can be monitored. You have other duties aboard the ship, after all.”

“Yeah, but…” Rodimus stared as you dragged yourself across the table, curling weakly into the crook of his servo with a soft sigh. He cradled you again, letting you rest your helm upon his chassis as he supported you with both arms. “I- I think I’ll keep an optic on them. What if being in here makes them nervous? Then they can’t recharge properly.”

Perceptor let out a soft huff, pinching the bridge of his olfactory ridge between two digits. “...Whatever you insist, Rodimus. But do allow them to rest. No joyrides.”

As Rodimus looked down at your frame in his arms, for once, joyriding was the last thing on his mind.

#transformers #transformers x reader #rodimus #rodimus x reader #rodimus imagines #maccadam #g/t #my writing #mtmte

[fandomobbsessedb]

Alastor x F!Overlord!Reader

AN: this is the result of the first poll I posted, Alastor won so here we are!

I’ve kinda broken this into two bits in this one shot, there’s a warning farther down if you want to keep within the ideas of “headcannon” but farther below I have the start of a story, I got a bit carried away and am too far gone to delete it.

⚠️Warnings: mentions of blood, death, weapons, smoking, maybe 1 instance of cannibalism ( but its more in the sense of revenge rather than a canabalistic reader) (idk man it’s hell if your triggered don’t read 😭) this is really long already so I might just break it up or continue it to make a part 2. I have a LOOOOOOT of references in here to so many things, if you guys can pick up on them leave a comment and I’ll tag list you in my next fic if you want! Or don’t I honestly couldn’t care less it’s just for fun :p

Reader is referred to with afab terms.

Pt2-

================================

• In your life you tried to stay on “the right” path. Your parents raised you right, you tried your hardest to be nice, and where always on your best behavior, but after getting the short end of the stick for too long you kinda… loose it.

• You ended up in hell after a night out partying with some of your most valued clients, when you went to drive yourself home the heel of your stiletto got stuck under the gas pedal, as you tried to pull it out you took your eyes off the road and 💥 BAM 💥 you where hit by a large grocer truck.

•Opening your eyes to a red wasteland, the bright flash of lights and the smell of brimstone flood your senses. Looking down to try and gather your bearings you notice your whole body wasn’t (skn/tn) anymore… it was marble grey?

“Where… where am I?” I mumbled under my breath, trying to gather my surroundings, a bright flashing catches my eyes, a gigantic neon sign in the sky gives me my anwser…

“Welcome to Hell!!!”

“Hell…. I’M DEAD?!!!!” I groaned out through barred teeth and stood to my feet, looking around I saw definite signs, this was Hell alright. A blood red sky, fires everywhere, little sinners running around stabbing and shooting one another.

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME, ALL MY WORK, MY SHOPPING EMPIRE, MY CLOSET, MY AWARDS, MY EVERYTHING, RAAAAAAHHH!!!” In my anger I grabbed the nearest sinner and threw them to the ground, putting my foot between their shoulder blades and grabbing their arms.

“You’re gonna tell me right now, what the hell is going on, WHY AM I DEAD AND HERE-” I shouted in their ear, seeing blood come out… oh shit I probably burst their ear drum… oh well, I’ve done that plenty of times to my assistants.

“D-d-do you mean, like in hell, or or just this area?” They questioned nervously. To be fair they were a scrawny little thing…

“What in the-“ I paused to look around, then referred back to this little shit “actually HELL are you talking about?”

“W-w-well, you must, *gulp* you must be new here, huh?” It asked with a weary smile and a weak little laugh, probably trying to ease the tension. “Well, down… down here, we uh, we have overlords who- who rule certain areas, we’re in Ms.Leefolt’s t-t-t-territory right now, I mean, our king Lucifer, Lucifer and Lilith Morningstar rule all of hell…”

“Well, that certainly is… intresting.” I smirk and stand up, releasing his arms but not letting my foot off his back. “So these, overlords… are they appointed by your king, or born into or something?” I question with a sharp red nail in between my teeth, thinking…

“No, no ma’am just, just anyone who’s ballsy enough to, to, take over enough territory and have enough demons- sell them their souls in exchange for something. Umm- if it’s not too much of a bother, could you let me go… I- I can feel my ribs crushing under me…” it started wheezing out and trying to get a hand under its chest to place a barrier between their chest and the ground.

“Hm, well if that’s all true, I can’t let some little thing like you going around gossiping about me.” I growled looking down at this freak… pressing my heel into his spine harder.

“No! No please, I won’t say a thing I promise!! Just let me go, please… pleas-“

SPLAT-

“Whoops, my bad, I slipped.” I reasoned, pulling my now bloody leg out of his torso.

“Ohh, eeeeeew eweweweweweweeew, I’ve got bits of his, ugh, lung on my heels.” Flicking away the bits of organ from my shoes, I take a breath and another look around but this time in a planning sense. Overlords huh, well, I’ll just have to see how much this ‘miss leefolt’ likes the taste of arsenic, I wonder when the last time she had a homemade pie was….

• So of course to establish some dominance in my new living arrangement, I gutted that bitch from the inside out. I took her territory, her power, her souls, even her manor. When I went to her office to kill her I found the deed to her house and all the contracts of sinners who gave her their souls in a pretty shittily hidden safe.

• I mean, I had to work so hard to build my life up just for a stupid grocer to end it all, so this is fine… right?

• The years go by and the world changes, you became one of the most powerful and influential overlords in hell, re-establishing your power once held on earth to a business in hell. Rosie and Velvet quickly becoming your closest friends, Velvet in a more business sense and Rosie being your go to gossip gal. Both of you having elegant and refined tastes. You and Husk became friends over talking shit in a casino one night, and remained friends after his downfall. He talks to you about this, radio demon, from time to time but you haven’t heard much of him

Little do you know he knows almost everything about you~

• Your walking around Cannibal Town one day waiting for Rosie to finish a meeting, watching children run around and little carts selling all kinds of body related snacks.

I lost a bit of my sense of surrounding and almost tripped on a kid running around with his friend throwing a head back and fourth.

"Jerermy! Stop playing with your lunch and apologize to that nice lady you almost ran into."

"Sorry miss, I didn't mean too." He said looking down at the head ashamedly, then offering me a piece of the cheek. "Would you like some of this face? It's really good." He looked up at me with an excited look. "Oh thank you, but I'm waiting for lunch with my friend, I'll go to the butcher and get some though, it looks really good." I smiled my pointy teeth at him, patted his head and motioned him back to his mother, she waved to me and I nodded my head back, thinking it was time for Rosie to be done by now.

"My my, with your reputation of anger issues I would assume you would tear that poor child into bits upon realization." A staticky voice spoke behind me, tilting my head back but not my body as I don't know who it is. I look him up and down, his outfit and cane/staff thingy give off quite the powerful impression. "My, mhm, reputation?" I pester raising my eyebrow.

"Ah-hahahaha, My name's Alastor, its quite a pleasure to finally meet you in person." He introduced reaching for the back of my hand to place a kiss. Him saying his name reminded me, I too finally recognized the name. "Oh, Rosie has told me much about you." The radio demon, his names been brought up many times around cannibal town since he frequented their shops and small town locals.

"Oh yes, Rosie is one of my dearest friends" He replied linking our elbows and started walking towards the shop. "Mine as well, she is quite the darling, so let me ask you now, where you just standing there when I got to the park, or where you going to follow me in silence since I left the emporium~" He didn't stutter in his step but my revelation made the air feel a bit more, weary on his side. Reaching into my hand purse I grabbed my lipstick and hand mirror and paused my walk to apply a touch more. Looking just past my lips in the reflection I saw his eyes in the back corner snap to my down, then back up to my eyes with a tight smile. "Well, are you coming? I know Rosie hates to be kept waiting." I snapped it shut and outreached my elbow waiting for him to link his so that we could start the traverse back to Rosie's.

• After our little group luncheon with Rosie, Alastor and you didn't verbally indicate that you were closer in any sense. But physically you swayed like two tree's. Brushing branches back and fourth with the breeze, restless and apart yet labeled as "together"

• You started doing weekly business deals, him acquiring land and souls for you, and all he asked in returns is he uses that land and those souls as he pleases. Which honestly isn't a lot. When he pulls people or their shadows to come help at the hotel- their mostly your people but he always sends them back to whence they came.

• He likes to pretend he doesn't necessarily care for being around you, however he's always looking for time you two can be together, or even thinking of each other. On his radio show he'll mention new shopping, eating, entertainment locations on your turf. He knows you listen when your able to. Sometimes he uses his power to let his station be the only one playing where ever you are. In the car, in a shopping store, you could be sitting in the bathroom and it would get to the point where you can hear it from the vents. Making you roll your eyes and finish your business so you could get to your office to listen to the radio.

• Truth be told... you where falling to his whims as well. Alastor didn't necessarily have "territory" but many places in one area he had influence in and quite often frequented. When you had rips or damage to your very expensive very delicacy clothing you would walk with him to the seamstress, and afterwards you would often get tea or lunch together. Maybe he knows a good diner or two and ya’ll will sit there and eat, then get a milkshake (mostly bc you wanted one, he just indulges to make you happy though he doesn’t care for the cold sweet taste) and drink it through two straws, awwwwwwwwwwwwe!!

• When either of you knew of prestigious events happening around you invite the other to be your plus one. You go shop together to find outfits for the occasion. You started attending overlord meetings together, with yourself sat on the opposite side of Rosie, sending each other glances and touches under the table whenever Rosie wasn't looking or walked away for a brief moment. At the events you stay close together and often stand away from the crowd, whispering and gossiping together, allowing yourself a to drink silly, little do you know how well he can hold his liquor and often will be the one making sure YOU get home. Sometimes you wake up still dressed, like the gentleman he is, and sometimes you’ll wake up in some red pajama set…. Like the gentleman he is, he’s not gonna let you sleep in an uncomfortable outfit. But he’s respectful about it.

• He often send subliminal messages through your radio to help you fall asleep, to push you to coming to see him, to maybe just stay in your town if he knew something really bad was going on outside. His favorite to do is when your falling asleep he’ll play the calmest songs from his time to comfort you as you drift off.

• When he officially asked to court you he compared you to the beautiful crimson of the sky, saying your cheeks where more bright and delightful to gaze at then the morning sky, when it was particularly bright. All kinds of poetic gestures, sending crows to your windows, sending your gifts of bodies with knives in them, and the knives had small notes left for you on some quote from a book you like. Now how he knows those are your favorite books are beyond you…. you don’t talk about your books much but, maybe he’s seen you reading it at some random point in time? Who knows, not you.

• He’s all in all not a bad partner, of course when you want to go out he usually goes along with what you want to do but if there’s something he refuses to do, his claws are sinking into your arms to keep you from dragging him to do it.

• His smile is genuine around you and you adore when he lets you pet his ears~ he’s not that intimate early on in the relationship but when your just sitting on a couch or watching the sun set from somewhere and you just reach over and pet his ears, he is putty in your hands, physically he keeps his compose fairly well but inside he’s willing to do anything to keep you touching his ears, telling himself he would sell YOU his soul if it meant you wouldn’t stop, petting his ears and helping him groom his antlers, don’t even get me started on the tail… oh wait he’s already got something going on with that… well darn… hopefully you will keep accepting his caring actions rather than push them away.

——-STOP reading here if you don’t want to get into the more “story line” of this idea, if you want more of a story KEEP READING——-

• One night some sinner had gotten into your liquor stash and drank himself ditzy, you chased him into an ally way, looking to end his fucking life. Most of those where gifts from clients that most likely had aphrodisiacs and at the time where trying to get down your pants, but he drank from one of the few special bottles Alastor had gifted you and you went ballistic. You ended up catching him and killing him, and taking a tip from Rosie and ripped some of his limbs off, letting yourself indulge in the taste of warm, liquor filled blood. When you came too you realized you didn't know where you had chased him. Now covered in blood, liquor, rain, mud and whatever mess you stepped in on your way over. Seeing the iluminating lights of the sign for the Hazbin Hotel, your only thought was to try and get to Alastor.

*knock knock knock*

*creeeeeeeeeeeeeeek*

"Oh! Oh my gosh, hi! Come in Come in. " An ecstatic girl ushered you inside, making a towel appear seemingly out of nowhere and helping you dry off. "I'm Charlie, whats your name?"

"Oh, how rude of me" I respond trying to shake off my chills, my nose starts to get a bit runny. "Uhm I'm Y/N, I don't mean to sound intrusive- uh is Alastor here?" I ask hesitantly, not wanting to just barge in but after the night I've had I wasn't in too much of a mood for pleasantries.

"Oh yes! Here, why don't you sit at the bar, have some tea or water or something and I'll run up to his radio tower." She sat me down at a bar stool and walked away. The bartender was turned around already whipping me up something.

"So he's got you wrapped up here huh?" I inquired with a smirk, resting my hands under my chin and trying to keep a little composure. His wings ruffled a little bit before he reached for my favorite hell made brand of brandy, my cotten candy brandy, I'm not one for sweets but I love the zing it gives you. The kind where you loose your vision for a good 7 seconds.

"You haven't usually been one to be a stranger, what gives?" Husk asked turning around handing me my drink and a bowl of pretzels.

"Well when I saw you weren't at your usual gambling tables I didn't think to question it, thought you where maybe getting more chips... ooooor hooking up in the chip room.... ooooor selling even MORE of your soul, if that's even possible, maybe like your wings or your feathers or, like your body as a human shield in the next extermination, never thought you'd be here slinging drinks." I shrugged swirling my drinks around the glass before taking a sip.

Before he could respond he took a bit of a step back and growled really low and deep in his throat.

"Ah yes well he owed me a favor and since I took an investment in this hotel I needed a little work on it done." Alastor came up behind me with a warm towel wrapping it around my shoulders as the one Charlie gave me was wrapped around my waist keeping my legs warm... unfortunatly the sinner got caught at a bad time, I was in the middle of 'me time' before bed and was in my good silk nighty. Glad I walked to my office with my fuzzy robe and ballet slippers. I feel really warm and fuzzy, my heads all….. comfy now… is that static coming from Alast-

"Oh deerest your all wet, would you like to come up and I can help you clean up." He asked you shaking the towel on your shoulders helping you sit up. "Oh yes please" you responded looking at him with sad tired eyes.

-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-

I took a sip of the warm tea Alastor had made me and laid back in the bath, taking it all in. I WAS just planning a quiet evening in at home, maybe snack on some treats I got in the Gluttony ring, watch some hells soap operas. Now I’m here, in my beau’s bathroom, relaxing… maybe I can convince him to let me up to his radio tower to listen to his late night show live, oh that would be fun. I wonder what it looks like up there? I’ve only ever seen his actual town house… a little ways away from town-

*CRASH *

“What the fuck?!” I sat up so fast I almost slipped, sitting on my butt… in the tub…. Shit did he spike my tea?

“Alastor? Is everything okay?” I asked loudly. Standing up carefully keeping three points of contact with the tub and the floor. I reached for a different robe he had given me, a soft red fluffy one, with (what I hope is faux ) fur along the collar and wrists.

Walking towards the bathroom door very carefully I cautiously reached for the shiny silver handle. Telling myself it’s okay but feeling a sense of dread in the pit of my stomach, and the handle was the top of the pit…

“Alastor?” I called out again, once more not getting an answer, bringing my hands to my mouth when I heard a large thump out there, trying to keeping my composure… oh what the hell they know I’m here already. I went to turn the handle what the door got pushed in, had I been able to see what happened I would’ve seen Alastor in his demonic form and it probably would’ve scared the actual shit outta me… but NOPE

I went to open the door when it got pushed open and a bright blue flash covered all of my vision and made me feel… kinda tried… but I’m awake, almost like I’m not in my body… it’s… really hard……. To keep my….. keep my eyes …………………………….………open…….

• You collapsed to the floor slowly breathing, in a trance, feeling some sharper claws pick you up bridal style, if you weren’t so dazed out you would see Alastor frozen in time… like a paused TV… unable to get to you, or subdue your captor. You still had enough conscience to hear a muffled voice talking to a phone~

“Yeah we got her… foil chains worke—“

“Get her ba-“

“…. Longer you take the quicker……….. flasher wears-“

• Last thing you could remember hearing before completing falling out was a radio scramble in your brain, the sound going from a hollow scraggly to a tight scraggle- like turning the tv in between stations………

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

AN: WELLLLL WHAT DID YA THINK???? Did you skip to down here or did you read the WHOLE thing. I really hope ya’ll like this, I’m so excited to make part 2, and maybe 3 or 4 depending on how far this goes.

Thank you to anyone who reads this and interacts in any way shape or form!!! Even if it’s just reading :) HOPE YOU HAVE A GOOD DAY AND REMEMBER

REALITY IS AN ILLUSION, THE UNIVERSE IS A HOLOGRAM BUY GOLD BYYYYYYEEEEEE

#headcannons #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel rosie #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel angst #hazbin hotel oneshots #short story #part 2?

[kiss-me-cill-me]

i’m not sure if anon has already requested a character for that song but if ur up for it CAN WE HAVE THAT SONG WITH JONATHAN CRANE. also i just listened to that song for the first time in like 3 years and got major deja vu lmao 😭

also ps i love u and ur writing !!!

This is related to another ask from an anon, requesting a fic based off of Katy Perry's song, The One That Got Away. I am so sorry to both of you that it's taken me forever to write this, but thank you for your patience and support <3

Now We Pay The Price | Pt. 1

Pairing: Jonathan Crane x Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: Life hasn't turned out exactly the way you wanted it to. Isolated and distraught as you watch time slip by while you sit, trapped in Arkham, your only wish is to recapture the way that things used to be.

Warnings: Angst, whump, sexual themes but no explicit smut, mental health themes, obsession, unhealthy relationship dynamics, mention of needles, mention of sedatives, unrequited love, established past romantic relationship, ambiguity

A/N: I hardly ever write angst, so please be gentle with me lol. But with the song inspo, I couldn't help but go in that direction. Slightly nervous to post this, but also happy that I've branched out from my comfort zone a bit!

***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***

Lying on your stomach, feet in the air, you stretched the thin cotton sheets with your hand. Just enough to give them the tension you needed to glide a ballpoint pen over the fabric, scratching over and over the same mark to make it appear complete. This was far from the perfect medium for doodling - but sheets were what you had, and so they were what you used.

Even the pen was contraband. You knew you weren’t supposed to have it. What anyone thought you’d do with it… honestly, you had no idea. As if you could use a pen for anything other than what you were wrapped up in doing now - carefully and determinedly drawing hearts.

You stopped to rest your head for a moment on the pitifully thin pillow. Across the room, blank white concrete stared back at you. Day in, day out. Endless. The same room with the same walls.

Picking up the pen again, you placed the tip right in between the lobes of one of the many hearts. Scratch, scratch, scratch. A messy, zig-zagging line bisected the doodle. 

Broken.

You sighed, and started to color a different heart, filling it with blue ink that didn’t seem very inclined to stick to the bed sheets. It was slow going. The deep azure tint reminded you of deoxygenated blood, like you would see in a textbook diagram. Once the heart was completely filled, you moved dutifully on to the next.

A rustling at your door made you jump. Quickly, you stuffed the pen under your pillow, and turned up the sheets to hide your drawings. It wouldn’t be very good for you if anybody saw them.

You sat up, arranging your rumpled jumpsuit as neatly as you could. Leather straps hung off the sides of your bed, and you spared them a glance, bristling at the memories of having them lashed over your body. 

The metal door slid open slowly, until you could finally see…

Him. Your heart skipped a beat and a half as he stepped stiffly into the room, pulling the door shut behind him. He didn’t make a show of locking it, but it was still all too hard to miss the way his hand stopped short at the keyhole, before slipping into his pocket.

“Jonathan. I’m so glad-”

“Don’t call me that,” he bristled. “In here, we don’t know each other. Please. You always forget that.”

“...Dr. Crane,” you corrected yourself. 

His tone was so bitter that you could feel it in the very back of your throat, trying to claw its way down to your heart. You swallowed, trying to bite back the taste.

“I’m sorry. I was just happy to see you.” You smiled, pushing through your discomfort, for his sake.

Crane was clearly agitated. He took a few steps into the room, before turning around and facing the door. For one brief moment, you couldn’t see his face, until finally he turned back. His eyes were ice as they stared down at you.

“Do you have any idea how difficult you’ve been making things for me?” he spat. 

The accusation hurt, of course. Though you knew very well what he meant. You had been acting out, more than usual, as of late. And although it wasn’t without a purpose, you could see that it was wearing him thin. But… how else were you supposed to see each other? 

Arkham Asylum wasn’t exactly known for its model patients. It took a lot to get Dr. Crane’s attention.

“If we spent more time together, I wouldn’t be so difficult,” you replied, trying to keep your tone even.

Crane pinched the bridge of his nose, in that way that you were well acquainted with. He’d always had that habit. Back when you’d first met, you had loved making him get frustrated - just enough for a laugh. Some things never changed.

“You’re really backing me into a corner,” Crane sighed. “And I really wish you wouldn’t.”

“Let’s talk,” you offered, patting the bed. “That’s what you’re here for, right?”

Crane, reluctantly, sat down. You could sense his exhaustion in the way that he almost collapsed onto the bed, hands gripping the edge for support. You inched a bit closer, enough so that your knees touched briefly. Crane pulled away.

You wanted to reach out; put a hand on his shoulder, just like you’d done so many times before. He used to like it when you touched him. Sometimes, you liked to think that yours was the only gentle embrace that he had ever known. Maybe it was silly, but the thought of it always made you feel better.

Now, Crane’s eyes held nothing but menace as he glared over at you, as if you were a stain on the bed sheets. You wondered, vaguely, what had happened to change things.

So much. So much that had led you to this place, where you could be so close to him and yet felt more separated than ever.

“I hate to say it, Doc, but I think I’m going crazy in here,” you joked, trying to lighten the mood.

He barely had a reaction; a deep sigh the only hint that he’d heard what you said at all.

“And why do you think that is?” he asked, finally. 

The psychiatrist in him always came through to shove even more distance between you. Like a shield, put up just when you’d started to press through the fog of tension that hung heavy in the room. You swallowed your frustration at being kept out, and tried to answer him honestly.

“Because I barely get to see you,” you replied.

That was the wrong answer, and Crane’s shoulders swung abruptly to face you. 

He was scary like this. Almost scary, anyway. If you didn’t know him better, the look in his eyes would have sent you cowering. 

But you did know him, so well, and you remembered with sudden clarity that he’d always been bothered by feeling inadequate. You felt awful; you hadn’t meant to imply that he wasn’t doing enough.

“I’m sorry,” you soothed, before he could say anything. “I know that you’re busy, but-”

“But you continue to make yourself into a problem,” he hissed. “You know the only reason you’re in here instead of rotting away over at Blackgate is because of me, right?”

You nodded, too shocked by embarrassment to speak.

“Then for my sake, why don’t you act like it?”

“I’m…” You paused for a moment, sharp tears welling up in your eyes. “I’m just… lost without you,” you whispered. “You know that. I always told you I would be.”

The first tear fell, and you tried to hide your face.

“Don’t cry,” Crane sighed.

You could hear the harsh tinge of annoyance in his voice, and wished that it was anything else. Even his pity would have been better than knowing that your feelings were now nothing but inconvenience. You choked on your own throat, trying to stifle a sob.

“Please don’t cry,” he mumbled, slightly softer this time.

But now that you’d started, you couldn’t make yourself stop. If anything, the tears were only coming faster, and you felt yourself start to shrink into your own chest. The little black pit that always seemed to sit there, now swiftly opening up to swallow you.

With a deep and lingering exhale, Crane pulled you close. Suddenly, you were back where you both had been, so many years ago: one person’s cheek pressed into the other’s shoulder. Tears soaking into fabric that seemed to be stained with sadness. You let out a half-laugh, half-sob, and nestled into the crook of his neck.

“Remember when I used to do this for you?”

Crane stiffened slightly beside you.

“Things have changed since then,” he muttered. 

Your memory suddenly flashed back to the first time he had used the words “dysfunctional attachment” to describe you. That had hurt worse than anything else. Even more than all of the other occasions to come, when you’d heard those same words and worse fall from his lips. They could never truly compare to that first time, when your whole world had come crashing abruptly to the ground.

His arm dropped away from you, but you kept your face pressed into his shoulder.

“Things haven’t really changed,” you said. “I still belong to you.”

“You don’t.”

Two words that stung worse than hundreds of needles. You tried to pretend that the wind hadn’t been knocked out of you, as you replied.

“I do. And I will. Always.”

You looked up at him with wet eyes, a trace of the old life that you’d shared together still evident deep within your pupils. Even if only the memories of it lived inside of you, they still lived. They were still something.

“You need to move on,” Crane said flatly. “I know it’s not easy in here, with me…” He sighed. “I did what I could to protect you, but maybe it would have been better if I had just stayed out of your case. Blackgate would have at least given you distance.”

“I don’t want distance,” you whispered. “I just want to be with you.”

“You can’t be.”

Always so stubborn.

“I could be, if you’d help me get out.”

Confusion flashed across Crane’s face, quickly replaced with raw terror. 

“Escape Arkham?” His eyebrows furrowed, nearly knitting together. “You can’t be serious. Do you even realize what-?”

“I know, I know,” you hummed. “But just think - we could run away together, just like we always talked about.”

“Stop.”

“Don’t you remember? We promised-”

“Things. Change.” Crane’s voice almost shook as it thundered.

You brought a hand up to his face, gently coaxing until he looked at you.

“But they don’t have to,” you breathed. 

Your eyes drifted down to your wrist, to the space just below your thumb, and over the little tattoo that was etched into your skin. A heart - just like the ones littering your blanket, hidden carefully from Crane’s view.

“Remember when you gave me this?” you asked, holding up the tattoo in front of him.

“No; I remember you doing that to yourself.”

“At first, sure,” you chuckled. “But then, you helped me to finish it, ‘cause-”

“Because I didn’t want you to hurt yourself,” Crane muttered. “Just like you always seem to. Even now.”

You ignored his remark as your hands drifted down to collect one of his pale wrists, then lifted up to your face. The sleeve of his suit jacket slipped back, revealing the spot where once, long ago, you had given him the same mark. Just with a felt-tip pen; he would have never allowed you, even back then, to deface his own body in the same way you had yours. 

At the time, the impermanence of it hadn’t seemed to matter. You’d been too distracted; elated by the way that his and your matching blossoms of ink had pressed up against each other as you’d held hands. 

Now, you pressed a kiss to the blank space.

“Us against the world, Jonathan. Remember?”

Suddenly, his fingers pressed into your face, digging into the sides of your chin as he forced you back into focus.

“Don’t call me that,” he warned, once again. “How many times do I have to tell you? That life doesn’t exist in here.”

Your hands still dangled from his wrist as he continued to crush your jaw, not letting you look away. But this was the one part of him that you didn’t want to face. The part that didn’t need you anymore.

“Jonathan. You know the reason I’m in here, don’t you?”

“Are you asking if I know about your case? All of the crimes you committed?” he huffed. “Because yes - I was very involved in the trial, and it was nearly impossible to keep everyone else in the dark about…”

Us was the word that he couldn’t bring himself to say.

“That’s not what I mean,” you said. “I mean, do you know why I did those things?”

“Stop - please don’t tell me this again.”

“I did them for you,” you cried, your emotions getting the better of you again. “I do everything for you. So don’t you dare pretend you don’t need me, when really the only fucking reason you’re not stuck in here with me is because I always-”

“Stop.”

Crane’s hands tore away to grab you by the shoulders, wrenching you back to reality. Somehow he always managed to do that. To pull you straight out of the riptide, just as it was about to sweep you away.

“I never asked you to do what you did,” he hissed, articulating each word between clenched teeth.

“But I did it anyway,” you spat. “Because you always get into trouble. Because I told you I’d be there for you, no matter what. And because I always keep promises.”

“I don’t need you to anymore.” Crane’s hands squeezed you uncomfortably. “I don’t - I didn’t need you to ruin your life for me.”

“My life isn’t ruined if it’s for you.”

“Jesus Christ…”

Crane’s hand came up to rake through his hair, but before he could pull away fully, you caught him. Fingers clenched tight to the front of his suit, you pulled back and forced him to fall with you. Your back hit the bed, and Crane scrambled to catch himself before his full weight could slam into you. His body perched just above yours, caging you in his arms.

“This. You must remember this.” 

Your words were a whisper, barely loud enough to pass from your lips to his ear, despite how close he was. Your legs frantically came up to tug at his waist, trying to force him closer.

“This was the only time I felt alive,” you continued. “When we were like this. You remember.”

How could he not? You could still live in that moment, if you tried hard enough. As if it had been only yesterday. Both of you nervous and fumbling, nearly falling off of the bed as he hovered over you and you clung to him. 

The way that your bodies had melted together, almost desperately, in a way that had made you feel certain that neither one of you would let go. Letting go then had meant something worse than death; it meant a life that dragged on without you and him together. 

The stale echoes of passion still rang in your ears as you looked up, silently begging for him to rekindle the spark that had been there.

Crane’s expression was all but impossible to read. His face half-hidden beneath bangs that fell into his eyes. The two-second pause was like a lifetime as you awaited his answer.

“Of course I remember.”

Your heart soared, flying recklessly up.

“But that doesn’t mean it’s the same now.”

Broken. Smashed hard against the cold floor of your cell.

“I don’t believe that,” you breathed. “I can’t. I-”

“You need to,” he interrupted. “Because it’s the truth.”

You stayed stock still on the mattress as Crane briskly pushed himself up, disentangling himself from your limbs. He exhaled as he tugged at his jacket, trying to make himself presentable. 

You weren’t sure how he could find the nerve, after ripping your whole world apart.

“I’m upping the dose on your sedatives,” he informed you, still not meeting your gaze. “But I would prefer if you could find it within yourself to behave so that I don’t have to. I don’t like to do this, but-”

“Appearances…” Your voice drifted through the room. “Have to be kept up.”

He had told you as much, probably dozens of times. Just like he’d told you the old life between you no longer mattered, or even existed. If it ever had.

“I’m glad you understand,” he said shortly. 

His back was already turned, but you looked up to watch him drift out of the room, quickly pocketing the keys on his way out. 

Your head fell back, hard, but the sensation did nothing to ground you. You felt all too lost and adrift; trapped in a situation you had created. This wasn’t how things were supposed to end up.

Your hand drifted silently under the pillow, and wrapped around the barrel of the pen that was still hidden there. 

Suddenly, grotesque understanding of all the reasons why no one would want you to have such a thing flooded into your consciousness. The possibilities were many and bleak, but they all led back to the same conclusion. It was just like you had told Crane earlier.

If your life together didn’t exist in this place, then the only solution was to leave. 

You smiled. With resolve swirling dangerously inside your veins, you vowed to make sure that nothing like this ever happened again. You were going to be together, no matter what. 

There would be no getting away.

This fic now has a Part 2! Read it HERE

#jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane #cillian murphy x reader #angst #LemmyFics

[kimsohn]

in each other's arms

pairing . roommates! mingi x gn reader about . 3k+ words, fluff warnings . i have an unhealthy obsession with writing when i’m sleep-deprived take this as you will. i also don’t write long fics so i’m super sorry in advance. reader has a thing for mingi’s arms (who doesn’t), there is cursing involved, slight mentions of alcohol, reader calls mingi annoying and stupid a couple of times but it’s endearingly, this is not proofread yolo

synopsis . you don’t understand why your roommate is suddenly afraid of the dark, but maybe offering him space to sleep next to you wasn’t the worst idea you’ve ever had. note . wrote this for a secret santa fic and decided to post here as well! i don't really stan ateez but writing this has definitely made me some sort of mingi stan 😭 also this was inspired by this episode of curious george, not crucial to understand the fic but definitely helpful

You’re not quite sure how your roommate grew so accustomed to watching Curious George episodes every night, but it’s become a, to put simply, very distracting routine.

Returning home from work to find Mingi, part-time barista and your personal full-time teddy bear, watching a TV show wasn’t uncommon. Heck, customer service jobs were so horrible that even you would settle in front of the screen for the remainder of the day. You’d often walk in on a new Netflix series and even indulge in them with him, humming soundtracks while you both made dinner together or fall asleep cuddling to the end credits of each episode.

It was all fine until he found a Curious George playlist on YouTube with all 15 seasons, and being a nonsensically endearing child at heart, he’d made it his personal mission to cycle through all of them. Initially, it was nostalgic for you too, but after one too many times of seeing the stupid monkey and his yellow-adorned caretaker, you’d opt to crash in your banana-less bed after dinner instead.

Nights often end like this one, with you drifting into slumber and the glaring light of the TV screen peeking into your room underneath the door. Neither of you was that bothered by the change in routine anyway; you got more sleep and he got his screen time. Being roommates, understanding each other was key in your relationship, and although things were slightly different, the silent compromise was enough to keep the peace between you.

Or at least, it was enough until you hear three knocks on your bedroom door and a slight knob turn.

“Y/N? Are you awake?”

The whisper takes a while to register in your half-asleep state, and at the realization of his scared tone, you force yourself to shift into a sitting position before responding.

“Mingi? What’s wrong?”

He tiptoes into the room, turning on the light. The bright contrast from your previously dark room makes your eyes close instinctively, your pupils adjusting to Mingi’s blurry figure.

“Promise you won’t think I’m stupid?” he asks, an attentive gaze in his eyes.

The comment makes you laugh as you patted your bed, beckoning him onto the soft surface.

“You’ve been stupid to me, dumbass. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

He shuffles on the pillows, leaning in closer to whisper to you despite no one else being in the house.

“I think there are monsters in my room.”

“Okay, let me get this straight. You watched a Curious George episode about him seeing shadow monsters in his room, and now you think they’re in your room too?”

You can see the pout on his face intensify as he turns all the lights on while walking to his room. You knew the episode he was talking about, the one where the monkey started envisioning oddly shaped shadows as monsters only to later learn they were just figments of his imagination, but you didn’t think it would affect your roommate that badly.

“No! Don’t turn on the light,” he exclaims as you screw open his doorknob, despite the rest of the house being engulfed in light because of his phobia.

“Why not?” you question, watching the door creak open and stepping into the room, pulling him along with you so he won’t run away.

“Look,” he points at an oddly shaped lump, “you can’t tell me that isn’t some evil slug out to get me.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s just—”

“And over there,” he beckons to a tall, conical structure, “that is literally an evil Christmas tree. I’m 100% sure we’re about to die.”

You sigh as you flick on the lights, your suspicions being confirmed.

“Did you even think to turn on the light? These so-called ‘monsters’ are just your pile of dirty laundry that I’ve been begging you to wash and your coat rack that I still can’t comprehend being in this room and not the doorway.”

“You’re right but,” he moves to turn off the light again, “why do they look so different in the dark? They’re shapeshifting! I’m not insane Y/N, just trust me.”

At this point, you’re too mentally and physically exhausted to even care about his antics. In some other period of time, you would’ve indulged his nightmares, but right now it’s far past your bedtime and the only thing on your mind is a long, relaxing sleep.

“Fine. You can sleep in my room tonight. I don’t have stupid coat racks or dirty laundry in my room for you to be scared of, and we can turn on the little night light I still have from third grade. Got it?”

You pretend not to notice the silent cheer he lets out behind your back as you make the trek back to your part of the building, killing the lights as you go. Mingi keeps an arm on your shoulder, and you notice he keeps his gaze on the wall beside him to avoid any potential shapeshifters in the living room.

After a thorough inspection of your room, Mingi deduces that there are indeed no shadow monsters. By then you’re already half asleep, curling into the right side so his hunk of a body has room.

“You sure this is okay?” he questions, stretching his arms and yawning.

Your tired gaze glazes over the ripples of his lean muscles illuminated by your snowman night light before answering with a nod, and you grumble when he flops on the bed and steals too much of your blanket.

“C’mere,” he voices, making grabby hands, “I miss cuddling with you.”

You make the meanest face possible and flip over to the other side, turning away from his seemingly shocked face.

“Wake me up for cuddles when you stop acting like a baby and grow a pair.”

And as you drift into slumber, despite your warnings you still feel the soft weight of his arm curl around your torso, sending you into the sweetest dreams full of fantastical butterflies.

The next night, Mingi is knocking at your door again, albeit a couple of hours earlier than yesterday. He doesn’t even have to speak before you’re glaring at him, hands crossed in annoyance.

“I’m not letting you sleep here again. You stole too much of my blanket last time.”

You don’t mention to him that you had the best sleep of your life.

“That’s why I brought a blanket!” he exclaims, holding up his polka-dot fuzzy bedspread, “I also brought some popcorn so we can watch a movie on your shitty computer.”

Screw him for being thoughtful, and screw him for wearing the same brand of tank top that he did yesterday. Were his muscles always this prominent, or was it your nightlight making you see things?

“Shitty computer?” you repeat, threatening to close the door in his face.

“No! No… I think you misheard. I love your classic, old computer.”

His grin intensifies as you let him in, snapping the nightlight on and setting up the movie on your computer that is indeed shitty. The overheating of the device makes you turn away from his knowing smirk, and as the starting scenes flash across the blue light screen, you reach for the popcorn, only for him to move it out of your reach.

“Can we cuddle now at least? I meant it when I said I missed it.”

You don’t say anything in response, keeping your eyes trained on the screen, but your hand does reach over to grab a kernel, giving him the green light to wrap an arm around your shoulder. You know that if you refused, he would bring up the embarrassing fact of how you woke up curled into his arm, and you weren’t really in the mood to fight a blush on your cheeks.

“You know, I don’t understand why you’re still scared of the dark when Curious George clearly overcomes his fear at the end of the episode.”

“He does?”

You turn to look at him, confused.

“Did you not finish the episode?”

“I haven’t touched the show since the beginning of that episode. I’m scarred.”

You still believe that this is some sort of sick prank Mingi has been playing on you because there’s no way a 23-year-old man would be this frightened over a figment of his imagination. However, it means you don’t have to bear the stupid ape’s squeaky voice as you fall asleep, so you take the win.

“You know you can’t keep sleeping in my room like this. Why don’t you just clear your room so you won’t be afraid anymore?”

“I like the organized chaos.”

“Oh yeah? The organized chaos that shapeshifts into your worst nightmares?”

“So they do shapeshift! See Y/N, I’m not crazy.”

He is crazy, but the way his arm feels around your shoulder is enough to make you stay quiet as you shovel popcorn into your mouth and watch the movie blur before your eyes.

You awake to find yourself in the same position, and although your head is awkwardly and painfully resting in the crook of Mingi’s shoulder, you find that you once again have garnered a good night’s sleep.

Although you can only see the side of his face, his frame is so beautiful that you can’t help but melt into a puddle of nothingness. The sunlight peeking in from the gaps of your blinds illuminates his face in rays so perfectly, and you have the urge to brush his orange-stained hair behind his ears to gain a better view.

Mingi has always been breathtakingly beautiful. You met him a couple of years ago in college, bonding over the uncertainty of where your future would take you. Ending up together in this small yet comfortable apartment together was something you hadn’t expected, but something you’re learning not to take for granted. His silly quirks and endearing behavior are like a magnet, and it’s hard to not have feelings for someone whom you’re so domestic with every day, but you both are busy with your own lives and have never had time to properly explore those feelings.

Falling asleep in each other’s arms is the closest form of intimacy you’ve shared with him, and you’ve learned to cherish and be grateful for it.

Knowing that both of you are bound to end up with a crick in your necks if you stay in this position any longer, you slowly shake him awake, pushing away your thoughts as you feel him stir underneath your palm.

“Mingi, wake up. You’re going to kill me with your complaints if you wake up with sore limbs.”

“I like sleeping in your arms,” he grumbles, and it’s a little too obvious how your heart constrains at the words.

“I know, but I promise you’d feel much better if you slept properly on the bed. I’ll reward you with an amazing breakfast, I promise.”

The mention of food has him relaxing in your arms, and you move so that he’s sleeping normally against the pillow. The thoughts of waking up next to him and cooking breakfast for him are all very normal, but they’re so domestic that it has your early-morning mind go haywire at the implications.

You tell your brain to shut up and get off the bed to make breakfast before Mingi cusses you out.

Mingi appears in your bed the next day, the day after that, and many more days after that. At this point, your room has now become a shared room, and Mingi has become a prominent figure in your sheets. Hell, your pillows have even started to smell like him, and you don’t know whether you find it annoying or endearing.

A smaller part of your brain, one that you choose to push aside, fears that you’ve grown too attached to this routine. Sure, before Mingi’s monkey infatuation you’ve woken up next to each other on an occasional morning, arms sore from accommodating each other on the sofa, but you’ve never continuously spent nights with him in the same space regularly like this. Now that the routine has become more frequent, the atmosphere has gone from friendly to something else, and you don’t particularly know if you want to uncover it yet.

Besides, sleeping in the same bed is normal for roommates… right?

“Y/N, sleeping in the same bed with an attractive bachelor that just so happens to be your roommate is definitely not normal.”

Okay, so San agrees to disagree.

“I’m being serious,” he says, shaking you by the shoulder, “you’re going to end up catching feelings, and it’ll either end up with you heartbroken and apartment-less or you getting a new boyfriend. There is a fifty-fifty chance. Don’t risk it.”

You turn to look at Mingi across the room, dressed up in a silk shirt and slacks. His hair is styled in that annoying not-so-styled-but-still-styled manner, and it makes you want to run your fingers through it. Badly. Seeing him sleeveless in the mornings is bad enough, but seeing him cleaned up at a mutual friend’s birthday party makes you want to go feral.

“You should’ve given me that warning before he started sleeping next to me,” you mumble under your breath, but unfortunately San is perceptive, and nothing escapes his ears.

“Great. I can’t believe you already have feelings for him. You’re done for at this point. What is he even so scared of anyway that has him crying in your arms every night?”

You explain the details with a frown on your face, not wanting to mull over any possible rejection you might get from Mingi.

“Oh,” San starts.

“Oh?”

“That changes everything.”

You stare at San with a perplexed gaze, prompting him to elaborate.

“Look, Mingi is stupid, but do you really think he’s that stupid? Come on Y/N, even if he was scared of the dark, he would’ve gotten over it in three days.”

You hit him on the shoulder, causing him to yelp.

“Don’t play with me San,” you berate, watching him clutch the area you just hit, “why else would he be sleeping in my room if he wasn’t scared?”

“The same reason you started having feelings for him! Because you both enjoy waking up next to each other and being together. He likes you Y/N.”

The words drift around in your brain, and you process them for a couple of seconds before glaring at San.

“If he liked me, he would’ve told me.”

“That’s what you think. But do you really know him that well if you couldn’t even figure out the reason he’s been sleeping next to you? What if he’s just scared to tell you?”

San has a point, but you don’t want to admit it. As you watch Mingi beckon you over to try some food on the counter and likely force you to shovel down a disgusting combination of food, you and San share a mutual glance to stop talking about the topic.

However, as you walk over, you can’t help your brain from overanalyzing everything that shouldn’t be. The way he smiles too brightly at you, the way he holds your arm gently as he tugs you over, and the way he keeps you hydrated throughout the night make your head spin. Everything normal suddenly seemed different, and you didn’t know if the change was welcome or not.

Later that night, when you and Mingi return exhausted to your apartment, your brain feels more tired than ever. You’ve never been much of a thinker, but currently, your head feels worse than a hangover, and you don’t want to mull over anything drastic. Keeping your distance from the guy who supposedly has feelings for you back is harder than it seems, but you’re not in the mood to confront him right now.

However, Mingi has other plans. He sits you by the bed, helping you take off your jacket and accessories and untying your shoes. You realize that he’s picked up on your exhaustion, and you feel extremely guilty for wanting to push him away mere seconds ago. He is so charming at this very moment, and you feel nothing but enamored for the love you’ve received from him tonight and all the time you’ve spent together.

The words are flowing out of your mouth before you can even stop yourself.

“Do you like me?”

He stops mid-shoelace, looking up at you. You realize how awkward and uncomfortable of a position this is for him, but it’s too late to turn back now.

“Did it take you this long to notice?”

You feel like you’re being shoved underwater. The world hazes before your eyes, and the words are muffled as they enter your ears.

“What?”

He laughs, and the loss of your senses makes you realize how beautiful of a sound it really is.

“You’ve always called me stupid, but I think you’re the one that’s actually stupid here. I’ve liked you for a while now, silly. Why do you think I help you make dinner when I hate cooking?”

‘Oh’ is the only word floating in your head right now.

“So, the Curious George thing was fake?”

“Kind of. I was a little scared the first night, not going to lie, but after finding out how much I missed sleeping next to you, I figured I’d use it to my advantage. I’m honestly surprised you didn’t figure out or kick me out sooner.”

He sees you bury your head in your hands, too shocked to internalize anything right now.

“Hey,” he says, holding your shoulder, “you don’t need to say anything right now. I know it’s probably a lot to take in, and I know you’re probably exhausted after that party. Just sleep on it, okay? We can talk later.”

He finishes untying your laces and gets up to leave, but you pull on his shirt, stopping him in his tracks.

“Don’t go,” you whisper, “I like it when you’re here.”

He smiles so gently, so so gently that you want to stare at him forever.

“Alright, I’ll stay,” he whispers back, despite no one else being in the house, “do you want me to continue sleeping next to you?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out after a pause.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

#text #ateez x reader #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #mingi #mingi x reader #mingi fluff #mingi scenarios #mingi imagines #song mingi #song mingi fluff #song mingi x reader #song mingi imagines #song mingi scenarios #kpop #kpop x reader #other grps

[ddejavvu]

Mei that fratboy!Hotch fic was so good I’m growling 😭 He deserves it I cant even lie to you. If you want to, could you maybe write a part two? Where he grovels a little more and even when he tries to make a move on the Reader, she’s still a little apprehensive?

And you just know Garcias probably already found out what went down between those two in exactly 2 minutes and she just gives Hotch the 😑 every time he walks past her

part 1 // i'm so glad you liked it!! it was definitely a step away from what i usually do hehe // parts of this scene were definitely inspired by the comments on part one! thank you for sharing your ideas with me, i loved writing them <3

--

When Morgan finally gets to his hotel room that night, dialing Garcia is the first thing he does. He takes off his gun while the phone is ringing, and she answers from her bed instead of her desk chair.

"Hello?"

He's filled with fondness at the fact that she's already groggy, probably watching ASMR videos before bed to rid her thoughts of the case they've been working on.

"Hey, babygirl," He greets her, "I need your detective skills."

"But you said you were done for the night," She whines, shifting beneath her blankets, "Derek, when a lady is told she can get in bed, she's going to get in bed. Especially when you tell a lady to get in bed."

He scoffs, "Hey. Keep it PG, PG."

"Whatever," She huffs, "A girl can dream. And a girl was about to dream, until you not-so-kindly called me up and asked me for more help. What is it this time?"

"It's something with Hotch," Derek hums, his belt buckle jingling as he unhooks it with his phone pinned between his shoulder and his cheek, "Remember that cafe you gave us the address to earlier? Where that woman Y/N Y/L/N was working?"

"Yeah," She hums, and Derek signs through his nose.

"Well apparently she and Hotch used to go out."

Derek has a split second to yank the phone away from his ear before Penelope shrieks into it. He barely beats the buzzer, and he can hear her excited squeals all the way from where he'd thrown his phone down onto the bed.

"Alright, alright," He speaks into the receiver, keeping the earpiece away from his head, "Quiet, sweetheart. If you screech that loud Hotch'll hear you."

"That's so exciting," Penelope gushes as Derek slips his jeans down his legs. He steps out of them, leaving them messily on the floor. He'll step right into them tomorrow morning, he doesn't feel the need to clean up. "Did they set up a date or something? Or- or flirt? Or kiss, did they kiss?!"

"Slow down, mama," Derek chuckles, leaning away from the phone just enough to slide his shirt over his head, "No, they were real awkward about it. When we left I asked Hotch and that's when I found out they'd dated."

"He should go in for breakfast tomorrow," Penelope gushes, "That would be perfect!"

"That's what I said," Derek lets his shirt fall to the floor, "But you're not listening to me, baby. Just stop talking for a sec."

"That is not my forte," Penelope warns, "Get to the point, Derek."

"He got really weird about it when I asked him. He was his usual grumpy grouchy self at first, but I guess I asked one too many questions or something, and he snapped. Stopped dead in his tracks, told me to stop talking, slammed the car door, everything. And I thought he was gonna break the steering wheel off on the ride back to the precinct, I swear."

Penelope mulls his words over, and he continues after taking a short breath, "There's something more that he's not telling me, Garcia, and I need you to find out what it is."

"Okay," She breathes, just as eager as Morgan, "Okay, uh- what kinds of questions were you asking?"

"Well, I asked how he knew her, then he said they were dating." Morgan recalls, "Then I told him to go get breakfast down there, and he said things ended 'poorly', whatever that means. And then I said I bet he could still get a date with her if he tried, and that's when he went all stone cold."

"Wait," Derek can picture the sleepy furrow in Penelope's brows, "You said you bet he could get a date with her, and he snapped at you?"

"Yeah, he said some shit like 'don't say that', real cryptic." Derek remembers with a grimace, "What're you thinking?"

There's a tense moment of silence, then Derek is humbled while standing near-naked in a hotel room.

"I'm thinking that you're lucky you can kick down doors," Penelope sighs, "And that you're handsome. Because otherwise I don't think they'd let you work for the government."

Derek's face scrunches in confusion, and he looks at his phone like it's the one insulting him, "What? What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you should get dressed," Penelope sighs, "Get some sleep, and let me take care of everything."

Derek scoffs incredulously, equal parts fond and exasperated, "Alright, pretty girl. I'll get some sleep. But- hey, what do you mean get dressed? Do you- how did you know I'm not dressed?"

Derek rarely feels the fear of god working for the BAU, but now he feels the fear of Penelope Garcia, "Can you see me?"

She delights in his terror, "No! Well, not now, but you're definitely less careful changing on face time than you should be. I just heard your belt, dummy, and I figured you were getting undressed for the night."

"Penelope," Derek signs shakily, "You are one scary woman."

"Why thank you," Derek can hear the cheesy grin in her voice, and he tugs on pajama pants while she speaks, "I'm going to need to be, to straighten things out with Hotch and Y/N."

"Oh yeah? Gonna show him who's boss, babygirl?"

"I'm gonna give him this really withering stare," She promises emphatically, probably practicing the expression as they speak, "My withering stare is lethal, you should be glad you've never been on the receiving end of it, hunk."

"Sounds terrifying," Derek chuckles, finally fully clothed now, "Alright, thanks Garcia. I mean it, I knew you could figure this out."

"Derek, honey," She croons, "A pigeon could have figured this out."

"Rude." Derek's eyes narrow, "Goodnight, meanie."

"Goodnight, birdbrain," She croons, "I'll keep you updated!"

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner one-shot #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner headcanon #aaron hotchner headcanons #aaron hotchner hc #aaron hotchner hcs #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner dialogue #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction #aaron hotchner angst

[sulfurz]

ೃ༄ SABOTAGE (roman reigns x reader)

ೃ༄ pairings: roman reigns x fem!reader

ೃ༄ requested by: anon

Hi! I was wondering if i can request a fluff roman fic they are both protective of the other and in a tag team match y/n notices that one of their opponents is trying to sabotage roman and so she gets rid of them and then her and roman with the match tyy! (i’m sorry if this kinda makes no sense)

ೃ༄ warnings: there’s like. no dialogue i’m sorry it’s all match based with like one dialogue line😭, descriptions of wwe fighting

ೃ༄ word count: 1.2k

ೃ༄ note: really sorry for the lack of dialogue anon i got. very carried away BUT i hope you enjoy this🥹 despite that i really enjoyed writing it so i hope you can enjoy reading it just as much <3

there was nothing quite like this feeling.

standing by roman’s side, walking down to the ring and watching the faces of judgement day, who weren’t aware you were their opponents for the night (as far as the crowd were concerned). as you walked, roman let his fingers brush against yours, and the electricity that sparked through your veins from such a simple touch had you ready to go the distance.

being his mixed tag team partner was unlike no other.

when sasha had left, roman had been left without a mixed tag team — not a disaster, but for production, this was the end of the world. they knew the crowd loved to see him combine with a powerful diva, and their best idea at the time was to test the two of you out together.

less than half a show in and their decision was made. the crowd had loved you together — from your tag moves to just the way roman held your waist so delicately when celebrating your victory.

you enjoyed it, too — especially the waist holding part.

it was not a secret that roman reigns was arguably the most attractive man back stage; it was a pretty common conversation between you and your fellow women’s superstars. even those who were dating others had to acknowledge the man was gorgeous, and anyone who got to fight alongside him was lucky. you knew this joke even extended into the men’s locker room, having heard many a story now from roman himself about how a certain damian priest accosted him just to feel up his muscles.

so? getting to be the one who trained with such a god of a man? the one who, when you won matches, lifted you in the air with such ease to celebrate? sue you for enjoying it.

you had done just that for a while, kept the pretends of professional whilst you quietly admired him from the side. it was after the two of you had ambushed his ex bloodline members, the usos, in a rivalry story that shocked the public (the very same one that made judgement day start targeting you), that things heated up backstage.

you were both sweaty and pumped with adrenaline, slipping out of those in ring personas but not leaving the thrill of the win behind. you went to hug roman, and in one swift movemebt he had your wrists pulled around his body and he was kissing you like you had never been kissed before.

safe to say, you felt pretty lucky to be the one who had roman’s attention and affection.

even now, as you clamboured into the ring, facing a more than disgruntled looking rhea and dominik, you could see the way roman grinned at you from the corner of his eye. call him terrible at keeping in character, but how could he when you were there and looked so good?

as soon as the opening lines had been spoken, the cue to signal the ambush should begin, you wasted no time in setting up a back elbow on rhea as she ran towards you.

to your side, you could see roman playing a similar move on dominik, the two of you having one quarter of judgement day each at your feet as they writhed in pain. when you caught romans eye, you could just about hear what he shouted at you through the thrumming of blood in your ears.

“you’re a fucking weapon.”

he had always called you that, his weapon, and it would forever make you feel strong enough to conquer anything. that was enough to join your stoic yet loveable boyfriend in a series of two on two moves, landing blow after blow to judgement day until they skilfully reversed and had you and roman plummeting to the ground, one on top of enother.

whilst you sold the recovery, you dragging yourself onto roman’s body, you could feel his fingers in your hair, tapping along to the ticking clock that signalled it was time to get back to your feet.

before you had even fully risen, dominik was there again, attempting to know you down. you ducked at just the right time as the man ran towards you, allowing roman to execute an almost hilarious looking clothes line that sent dominik to the ground.

then, you both turned you focuses on ripley, and the battle began. you perfectly demonstrated move after move until the time came for rhea to take you out, falling to the ground with extra flair that was meant to encourage ronan to perform his signature on the wrestler.

in your recovery time, you spared a moment to glance towards where dominik was still selling on the floor, but something didn’t seem right. in every rehearsal, no one had ever mentioned chairs would be involved in this match? you knew it was judgement day’s ‘thing’, having used it against their previous leader, edge, a million times, but no one had said anything about them being here. it would have been sneaky for vince to have added to the storyline without telling you and roman, but at this point you wouldn’t put it past the man.

as dominik ran at an unaware roman with the chair, all you could think was how badly this could end. roman wasn’t prepared for the chair strike — if he wasn’t in the right position this could be lethal, and you had seen enough injuries this year to not let that happen.

ignoring the ache of exertion in your muscles, you pulled yourself to your feet quicker than you ever had and were suddenly inbetween dominik, roman, and the chair. you gripped its other side tightly, hearing how roman stopped fending off rhea to turn and see what was going on. you were sure he was just as confused as you, but you didn’t care anymore. with all of your force, you pushed the chair back at dominik, until the man’s grip on the object slipped and it went clattering to the ground.

you wasted no time in following the script now (albeit, maybe adding one or two of your own moves in to prove a point to those backstage). if they wanted you to lose, you no longer cared with how they out roman at risk. your partner seemed to get the memo too, the two on two match coming to life in an instant as roman floored rhea then joined you in taking down dominik.

the tide changed entirely, and when you and roman landed your perfectly practiced 3d on dominik, the crowd knew it was all over. you made sure rhea was taken care of as roman pinned dominik, until the match was called and you were announced as the winners: a shock to everyone around, but a welcome one to the crowd.

as they roared in celebration, roman’s hand slipped around your waist and tugged you close to his body. the crowd weren’t aware of what went on backstage, but in that moment, neither of you cared as your hands found his chest, and his lips found yours in a passionate kiss that you knew the cameras were capturing every second of.

and when you pulled a way, you made sure to punctuate the victory with one last wink in judgement day’s direction.

god, roman loved you.

find out how to request via my page

#✍🏻 requests : anon #roman reigns #roman reigns x you #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns imagine #roman reigns scenario #wwe imagines #roman reigns imagines #judgement day #rhea ripley #dominik mysterio

[eoieopda]

[visual content blog recommendations]

we see fic recs all the time, but i don’t think i’ve ever seen rec lists for visual content (gif/art/gfx/etc.) creators! they’ve been dealing with a bunch of shit lately between reposts, tumblr garbage, etc., so i wanna shout-out some favorites. thank you for keeping us fed!!

disclaimer: this is not an exhaustive list!! if you have recommendations of your own, please feel free to expand on this yourself and/or drop some of your faves in the replies for others to see. self-promo is always welcome here, too ✨ p.s. some of these are recent finds for me, so pls expect to see more of them on my blog. eta: i will be adding more as i go!!

[bts]

@yooboobies — réka’s gif sets are *chef’s kiss* and the ART? omg. the talent!!! 😭 we simply have to simp.

@cordiallyfuturedwight — apart from being one of the coolest/funniest people i’ve found on army tumblr, i am a kayla stan because the niche themes for her gif sets (ex. bangtan turtlenecks series) feel like they’re made 👏🏻 for 👏🏻 me 👏🏻 even though they absolutely aren’t, lmao.

@hopeinthebox — the bts as reductress headline + incorrect bangtan series are probably my favorite pieces of content on the entire internet??? also, lizzy is absolutely gd hilarious. tags are 11/10. a blessing upon my dash.

@kimtaegis — i’m not visually artistic enough to say this in a way that makes sense, but annie’s gifs are just… stunning? like, the colors? idk about the process that goes into that, but i imagine it takes a lot of time/finesse to be this vivid.

@kithtaehyung — ryen is the renaissance man of army tumblr, fr. not only can she write (like!!!) but she’s multi-faceted and insanely creative with her graphic design. i want her to tutor me, lmao.

@raplinenthusiasts — ooohhhhh my god. the coloring of their gifs makes my brain go brrrrtttt. this bts x the office set is on my “always reblog” list; i’ll share it every time i come across it.

@heybaetae — this set in particular is on my “always reblog” list, no matter how many times i’ve done so already. also, idk how to describe this, but kelli’s gifs are just…. crispy 🤌🏻 like, so satisfying with the…. texture? filtering? contrast? i’m an idiot re: editing terms, but go peep them and you’ll know what i’m trying to say.

@kth1 — literally who could ever forget maggie’s 100 days of (member) series??? the amount of work that had to go into that? unfathomable.

@jeurias — i want to wallpaper my house and office with their gfx. i’m deadass.

@jinstronaut — emmeline has been doing her “a jin a day while he’s away” series for OVER 250 DAYS NOW. i have never been nor will i ever be able to commit to anything to this level.

[multi/skz/atz/svt/etc.]

@starryoong — do not get me started on starry’s paintings, sketches, etc. because i will never shut up. ever. j’adore 🫠 is also a five-star human being.

@irlvernon — my queue is probably 80% max gifs at any given time. god-tier, fr. a must-follow for carats, as far as i’m concerned.

@vcrnons — incredible gifs, lovely human, and also the writer of some of my favorite svt fics??? we stan.

@yelhsaart — i don’t have any words for how much i love their art so please imagine guttural screaming instead. asdfghjkl!!!

@hizuillu — ……breathtaking. legitimately stunning skz art. like…… i have heart palpitations.

@snug-gyu — THE USE OF COLORS. i’m always a simp for pantone-inspired sets; they just scratch an itch in the back of my brain, and BOY HOWDY, is my brain satisfied 😵‍💫

@yunwooz — again, i have no idea what i’m talking about when it comes to the gif-making process, but the colors!!! the COLORS!!! like, taking a mv that’s not super vivid/is fairly greyscale and bringing it to life? ya know????

@booskwan — you want incredible gifs? they’ve got em. you want stunning gfx? they’ve got em. seriously, idk what to tell you except “pause right here and go follow immediately”.

@haechannabelle — listen……. annabelle’s art style is 😗🤌🏻 (that’s a chef’s kiss). the use of color, and the technique, and and and — ! ALSO, i must mention that she took, like, 50 hours to compile a boycott-friendly k-pop playlist. their vibes are simply impeccable.

rev. 4/10/24

#bts #skz #atz #svt #gfx recs #gif recs #art recs #jade speaks

[mrghostrat]

The only thing on my mind lately has been your absolutely amazing streamer au and how I just know damn well that The Them (now being older and getting into streaming as well) are little chaos gremlins and occasionally Crowley does streams w them. (Anathema also definitely hops on with them occasionally bc she misses them and just sits in calls on discord or even just plays silently in games while typing her response to them on discord off stream) They definitely all play jackbox together on weekends and fortnite and valorant or like some lawless minecraft server like 2b2t almost. (Crowley doesn’t really know how to play mc but The Them are trying to teach him lol) They do the most heinous crimes on any server they play on in any game they can get their grubby hands on (they love sea of thieves) but also have like chill days where they have like a really nice Raft server and their own modded mc server but none of them are very good at keeping things totally calm so streams on chill days always end in chaos anyways. Silly little rambles sorry abt that! But I just know the Them being young adults now would definitely be streamers too. Crowley probably wouldn’t stream with them too often but in my head that’s what The Them are up to as well in this au:)

im always kicking my feet and absolutely squealing every time I remember the streamer au. Your art, writing, and ideas are absolutely fantastic and a seriously great part of my day when i read ur posts. I can’t wait to spend my entire holiday break from college just reading ur current fic and getting even more hype for streamer and fandom au.

thank you for your services to this deranged and truly feral fandom. As a twitch enjoyer, i am feeling so seen and heard w the streamer au bc i know I’d definitely be in their chats going neurotic!!!!! I simply cannot get enough of ur work!!! ehehehehehhagahage ur so cool keep at it:))

YES YES YES!! and did i mention YES!!! this is a perfect Them and i'm LOSTTTTT thinkin about old man crowley, as modern and up to date as he is, needing a bunch of kids to tell him you don't attack zombies with your pickaxe

thank you for being so sweet and sharing this with me omg 😭 i'm having the best time talkin about my silly fixations and collaborating with so many enthusiastic askers. i hope you like my fics!! (and best of luck getting through classes!!!)

#ineffable streamers #fun rat fact: Why Not is my favourite line in the whole damn show thpfhthudhksha #ask a rat

[bqstqnbruin]

See You Again

I'm actually posting a fic for the first time in seven months aka the first fic I've finished in seven months peace love teaching

anyway, I wrote this for the lovely @wyattjohnston's summer fic exchange! I got to write for @selfindulgentpoorlywritten but I've never written for Nico before, so I hope you like this (I was fully inspired by my own mess of a life)

Edit since I’m a dumbass thank you to @kat-hearts for reading this first and being amazing ily 😭

One of the characters, Nat is nonbinary, and I did my best to make the reader gender netural, which I haven't done before on either account, so I hope I did it justice (if something is glaringly wrong, please let me know!)

Warnings: I was mean with the ending? A little? Also, some swearing, drinking, almost physical fighting

Word Count: almost 2.8k

_______________________________________

“When was the last time you saw him?”

You tried to shift through your memory to figure that out. In person, the last time was sometime in the first week of December about two years ago. Thinking about him, which thankfully didn’t count, would involve you giving a much more recent answer, way more recent than you would really like to admit. “I don’t remember.” 

“Well,” your roommate Nat says, looking down at their phone. “I have bad news.”

“Fucking hell,” you moan, tilting your head to hit the back of the seat of the Uber. You knew what they were going to say before the words even started to come out of their mouth.

“Nico is going to be there tonight. With all the guys.” You let out another groan, the Uber driver giving you a scowl through the rearview mirror. “I’m sorry! Jack didn’t know he was coming, or he would have told us way before we got ready.” 

You stare out the window, trying to think of all the ways that you could get out of this situation. You already paid for the Uber and didn’t want to pay for another one. You weren’t about to go somewhere by yourself, especially since the bar you were heading towards wasn’t within a reasonable walking distance if you were to go somewhere by yourself, and no way was Nat going to leave with you without Jack, and Jack, of course, wasn't going to leave without his teammates. 

“We can go back right now and I’ll tell Jack to have fun with his team instead,” Nat tells you as if they could read your mind. They put their hand over yours, trying to give you any sense of calm that was setting into your panic. “We do not have to be around Nico.” 

“What kind of person tells someone they like them but not enough to date them?” you mutter, knowing you and Nat have had this conversation many times on your kitchen floor, drunk and crying together at 2 in the morning. They had introduced you to Nico one night after a game when the team went out to celebrate. They had been dating Jack for about a year at that point, meeting him through his brother at Michigan and reconnecting when they both realized they were going to be in New Jersey together. Quinn had used the reasoning of, “he won’t know anyone in the state,” only for everyone to realize later that he knew Jack had been smitten with Nat since they met. If only you had been so lucky. 

You had known of Nico, obviously. How could you not? He was the captain of the Devils, the team you grew up surrounded by, the number one draft pick in the sport your roommate never shut up about. He covered your social media feeds without you really wanting them to and everyone you knew talked about what a great game he had the night before. You couldn’t escape the idea of him, no matter where you went. 

When you met him that night a few years back, there was something about him in person that you were drawn to. He had been just an idea to you, not someone you could think about as being real. You spent that entire night with him, your friends either wandering off or you too enthralled with Nico to notice that they were there. Nat and Jack were heading back to your place before last call, and you were left knowing that you had to see Nico again.  

He asked if he could kiss you, making you melt as his hand gently snaked its way to your cheek, pulling you close when you said yes and covering your mouth with his. You waited for his text the next day, anxiously checking your phone until he finally did after 3 pm. From then on, you told each other everything, texting each other whenever you could, him calling you and heading over to your apartment whenever he didn’t have an obligation to the team. You fell hard for him and you had believed that he felt the same about you. 

“The kind of person who doesn’t know what they have until it’s gone,” Nat tells you, trying to pep you up. “Hey, we can find you a guy that is just as hot as Nico tonight.” 

“I’m gonna move to Ireland and isolate myself with the spuds.”

“Act like you can be away from me for that long,” they tease, earning a laugh from you. “I’m serious, though. Tell me what you want to do, or who you want to do, and Jack and I will make it happen.”

You didn’t want someone just as hot as Nico, you wanted Nico. You hated the fact that there was more than one time that you had pulled up his messages on your phone, part of you unable to delete that conversation thread even though you knew it would be the healthy thing to do. But you weren’t known amongst your friends for doing what was best for your mental wellbeing, so you kept them, going back through the conversations you had in the four months you were seeing him. The last text was what haunted you the most, him telling you that he was going to be back in Switzerland for the summer and that he ‘didn’t want you tied down to one person’ while he was gone.

He said he would text you when he was back. 

He never did. 

There were multiple times when you wanted to text him, but you never did, either. 

“Yeah,” you manage to choke out. “Let’s do it.” 

You spend the rest of the ride in silence, trying to think of where in the bar you would be able to hide from Nico so that he wouldn’t see you. The guys were already inside, Jack telling Nat about 10 minutes ago that they went to start drinking as fast as they could. 

The bar was somehow muggy inside, as if the beer itself hung in the air rather than the sweat of the nearly one hundred drunk people that were crowding every square inch of the floor. Jack was easy to spot for Nat, his five foot eleven frame not the largest of his teammates, but still distinct enough that your roommate had left your side within seconds of entering to be with their partner. 

So much for finding you someone tonight. 

You tried to stay away from him, closer to Nat and Jack as best as you could, but they kept wandering off from you. The last thing you wanted to do was go with them when they were both on their way to drunk and have a history of doing slightly illegal things in the bathrooms at bars. 

You had to find someone to talk to. Any person who looked interesting. Any other guy on the team who you were friends with, but that was really only Jack, and that was really only because he’s dating Nat. Your phone was your only comfort, finding a table that had been pushed up against the wall and hoping that there was something you could doom scroll on that would distract you from looking towards Nico. 

He had the right to do what he wanted at the bar with his teammates. You weren’t together. 

“You ok?” you hear during a lull in the music, pulling you away from your phone for a moment. You didn’t know who was standing in front of you, one of the newer guys from the trade deadline that Nat definitely hadn’t introduced you to. He was waiting for you to respond, looking like he had wanted to sit down with you.

“Yeah, just, not a big ‘going out’ person.”

He lets out a nervous laugh, a smile that sends a jolt through your system that you hadn’t felt in a while. Since Nico, if you were really willing to be honest with yourself. “Me neither, honestly. I’m just here because I didn’t have anything else to do.” 

“I got dragged here with my roommate so they can be with their boyfriend,” you tell him, gesturing to Nat and Jack trying their best to sneak out of the bathroom, Jack’s shirt buttoned wrong, both of their previously neatly styled hair in a mess that you only saw after hearing them the night before. 

“So that’s the infamous Nat,” he says, taking the seat beside you. You nod as he continues, “Jack never shuts up about them. Not that Jack shuts up about anything or anyone, ever, but especially not Nat.” 

“I always knew he was a good one,” you tell him, introducing yourself so he knew you as more than just, ‘his teammate's partner’s roommate.’

“I’m Timo.” 

You spent the rest of the night bouncing between the table and the bar with Timo, him buying you every drink you wanted. There was something about him that was different, but you couldn’t focus all of your attention on him. 

He was talking about his time in San Jose while you were waiting for your next round of drinks. You couldn’t focus on a word he was saying, Nico within your line of sight talking to a girl. A really attractive girl, you might add. You felt your heart drop, feeling a lump in your throat forming faster than you could lie to yourself about that scene having no effect on you. Naturally, Nico would talk to other people. You hadn’t talked to him in two years, let alone seen him in person. Just because you couldn’t get over him, no matter how hard you tried, that didn’t mean he didn’t get over you.

“And then I got traded here, and I love it, so far,” you tune back into Timo, who is suddenly much closer than you remember. It’s just because the bar is loud, people are starting to crowd for drinks, and, fuck, you have to admit, he’s pretty hot. 

Nico was still watching. 

Timo took your hand, leading you off to the table where you were before, the drinks in your hand probably not ones that you needed to begin with. His free hand snaked its way to your waist, pulling you close to him. You could feel your heart racing faster with every inch he got closer to you. You wanted him to kiss you. 

You thought you did. 

“I’m sorry,” you pull away right as his lips were about to meet yours, tears starting to form in your eyes, leaving the drink he bought you in his hands as you ran from him. Your breath catches in your throat while you try to find Nat and Jack, just praying that they weren’t back in the bathroom or too intoxicated in general to help out. 

You heard Timo calling after you, somehow, through the volume of the music and your own drunkenness, breaking through and getting to you. You didn’t want Timo calling your name, you wanted it to be Nico. 

You needed it to be Nico. 

“Hey, hey,” you hear, feeling a familiar hand gently place itself on your arm. You turn around, Nico’s face a mixture of concern and fury. “What did he do?” 

“He, he,” you stammer, the tears falling faster the more you looked at him, every memory you had with him suddenly rushing back into your mind. “He didn’t do anything. You did.”

You yank your arm from him, trying to find anywhere to be in the building that didn’t have one of Nico’s teammates looking at you causing a scene. You knew he was following you, calling your name again and again over the music. People were starting to stare, but no part of you cared, trying harder to not let the tears that were burning your eyes fall down your cheeks. 

Nat and Jack were nowhere to be seen, the rest of Nico’s teammates trying to figure out what was going on when you burst through the front door of the bar, the cold fall air hitting your face as soon as you did. You let out a sob, trying to steady yourself against the wall of the building, sliding down to the ground while people waiting to get in tried to figure out if they should help you or if you were just another drunk person having some sort of meltdown that was none of their business. 

“Hey,” you hear, a soft voice coming from above you. “I’m so sorry if I did something wrong.” Timo slid down next to you. “I read the situation wrong, I thought you were also into me.”

“I am, I just,” you start, trying to think of what to say. 

“Hey, what the fuck did you do?” Nico yells, pulling Timo off the ground. “What did he do to make you cry?”

“Nico, stop,” you let out, Timo looking both confused and terrified by his new captain’s hand on his shirt collar. “He didn’t do anything.”

“What the fuck did I miss?” Timo asked, slowly trying to back away from Nico staring you down. 

“Why can you talk to other people and I can’t?” you ask him, feeling your sadness turn into anger. “You had no issue not talking to me for the last two years.” 

“I’m gonna go,” Timo lets out, barely loud enough for the two of you to hear and sneaking away before you could notice. 

“You didn’t want to talk to me,” Nico counters, taking a step towards you. “But you wanted to talk to TImo instead?”

“Where the fuck did you get that idea?” 

“You never texted me. You’ve spent the entire night avoiding me. You think I didn’t see you when you were by yourself on your phone?” 

“You were in Sweden. And you could have come up to me and talked to me, what was stopping you? Oh, that’s right, your new girlfriend.”

“Switzerland. And she’s not my girlfriend. I haven’t seen anyone in ages.”

“Wherever you were, you weren’t here,” you tell him, your back against the wall. How long had it been since he had last seen someone? There was no way you had been the last person he was with. “You told me you didn’t want to be tied down while you were back home. You didn’t even want to talk to me, because if you did, you would have.” 

“You’re joking,” he scoffs. “You think I didn’t want to talk to you? Every fucking day I have thought about how our conversations would go when I saw you after you get home from work. I would think about you telling me about your day, about everything you would tell Nat, or whoever you were seeing at the time. Every single person I saw in the last two years, I wanted them to be you.” 

You didn’t know what to say, letting Nico’s words sink in. “Then why didn’t you text me when you came back from Switzerland?” 

Nico took in a deep breath, closing his eyes and tilting his head up to the sky. “Because I thought there was no way someone else wouldn’t have realized how amazing you are. There was no way I could be someone who you thought was worth waiting for.” 

Nico takes a step towards you, his hand gently taking yours. This was a moment you had been thinking about since he left for Switzerland two years ago. You knew he was going to kiss you, having you pinned against the wall of the building. His free hand cupped your cheek.

“There you guys are!” Nat interrupts, them and Jack clearly having just finished up doing something they weren’t supposed to be doing. Nico steps away from you, clearing his throat, the red in his cheeks so noticeable there was no way even your roommate wouldn’t comment on it later.  “We’ve been looking for you, for um.”

“Long enough,” Jack finishes their sentence, a stupid smile covering his face. You knew he was lying, but no part of your brain was letting you focus on that. Nico leaned against the building, his arm up over your head. “The uber’s almost here. Are you ready to go?”

No. “Yes.” 

The three of you leave Nico standing there by himself, Nat and Jack falling asleep in the Uber as soon as it gets on the highway. 

You check your phone for the first time in a while, a lone notification popping up on your phone that hadn’t been there in almost two years. 

‘Nico, iMessage.’ 

#nico hischier #nico hischier fic #new jersey devils #devils #new jersey devils fic #devils ic #summer fic exchange 2023

[flowertrigger]

20 Q's for Fic Writers

Thanks for tagging me @a-noble-dragon @mostlyinthemorning @smallumbrella369 💜

How many works do you have on ao3?

7

What’s your total ao3 word count?

23,146

What fandoms do you write for?

Schitt's Creek

Top five fics by kudos:

Shhh...

in finding myself, i found you

one week is seven days too long

silent in the summer air with you

dinner

Technically my drabble wip is fifth, but I didn't feel like that counted as a stand alone fic.

Do you respond to comments?

Yes. Although there are a few on my drabble collection that I haven't to every single one even though I feel terrible about it. I just felt like it would be annoying for the people commenting, which I acknowledge is dumb seeing as I like responses to my comments. But I still read and cry over every single one.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

None of my fics have an angsty ending. Oh I guess my fresh&frozen drabble counts seeing as Patrick is dead!

Do you get hate on fics?

Nope.

Do you write smut?

I think that's all I write.

Craziest crossover:

I haven't written one.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

No they're not worth stealing 😂

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope.

Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

No, I wonder if I could. I think I'm bit of a control freak.

All time favourite ship?

Patrick/David all day every day.

What’s a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I really want to finish my pastry chef!pat fic, but I think I have to rewrite the whole thing and I just don't have it in me to do that at the moment. Also everything else I have on my wip list is at a standstill. Sometimes the input to feedback ratio is so low that I just don't care to finish anything.

What are your writing strengths?

I don't know 😭 keeping track of my character's limbs when they're fucking? Which I've seen a few people write as their weakness so I guess that's a thing?

What are your writing weaknesses?

I can think of a germ of an idea but I’m not imaginative or smart enough to flesh it out into a more substantial story. Also, punctuating dialogue, grammar, controlling the flow of a story, developing a strong voice for my characters, descriptions that aren’t contrived and over used, unnatural and forced dialogue, 'showing' instead of 'telling', overwriting and explaining something to the point that comes across as forced and boring to read.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

I love fics where a character can speak another language. Especially French speaking Patrick. Can we get more of those?

First fandom you wrote in?

Good Charlote rpf, seriously.

Favourite fic you’ve written?

Maybe 'in finding myself, i found you'? It's the only one that has a plot aside from them needing a reason to be horndogs? Also it's the longest thing I've written and I like the outfits I came up for them. If only I could draw so I could bring David's outfits to life.

I'll no pressure tag: @ramonaflow @beaiola @chelle-68 @characterassassination-at-9am @fictasticvoyage

@filet-o-feelings @jamilas-pen @wordthieve @trickiwooao3 if they would like to play 💚

#writing tag game #schitt's creek fanfic

[crazylittlejester]

We are always making Wars suffer in this house, man 😔

So fluffy headcannons time ✨

Wars was gifted an orange sapling by Impa even she found out he liked them the most, and he takes pride in having nurtured it to be able to have fruit. He likes to give his friends oranges if he has to many to store/preserve, and sometimes even makes baked goods from them as well.

Wars made a sort of birdhouse for the fairies he rescued during his adventure. He made sure that there was a wardrobe for their clothes and plenty of food while he's away. He has Linkle check up on them during his journey with the chain.

Is trans! Both he and Zelda are, and upon realizing as such, they just swapped lives and called it a day. It was an awkward conversation having to explain to the others why he had the triforce of wisdom instead of courage and can harness holy light. He likes to joke that the fates got confused and mixed them up by accident.

Doesn't know if he wants kids or not. Mask, Town and Tetra were all hellions and gave him more migranes than he can count, but those softer and more wholesome moments he spent with them also makes him want a kiddo of his own. Might just become the cool wine uncle who sees his neices and nephews as his own kids.

Animals love him. Every single one, even usually hostile ones. Wild nearly had a stroke upon witnessing a Lynel acting like a full blown house cat demanding pets from him. This also means cuccos love him to death, even though he is scared by them.

Ginger, bleaches his hair to hide it. Likes scaring kids by saying if they look him in the eyes he'll take their soul. Mask, upon being told this, said he didn't have one. This was the start of Wars' concern of the child.

Has a huge sweet tooth. Like, it puts even the fairies to shame. It is a miracle his teeth haven't rotted out his head, and that might be from divine intervention.

Cat mom, and he babies them. They are spoiled and chonky and love being cuddled and held like babies.

The scarf wasn't apart of the uniform he was meant to wear. In all honesty, nobody knows how or when Zelda got the scarf, or how it became a part of his attire. It's just apart of him now.

Speaking of the scarf. It's huge. Like it straight up could be a blanket if he unfolded it and laid it felt on the ground. It's his security blanky.

OUGGHH I’m so with you on these

- THE ORANGE TREE GOT ME MAN. HE’D ABSOLUTELY LOVE TO HAVE ONE OH MY GOD 😭

- He is SUCH a friend of the fairies, they all love him to death and I’ll fucking die on this hill. They absolutely adore him

- TRANS WARS REAL. Link in general is just such a transgender icon and I love him for it

- I headcanon him as ace so I don’t think he’d ever have his own biological kids, but look me in my eyes right now and tell me he wouldn’t take a kid in who needed it. Also he’s such a girl dad, yknow? (I am so obsessed with the idea of him being a girl dad I’m writing a fic about it-)

- I have this vision in my head now of the cucco’s lookin at him like “OMG it’s Link 🙌!” and they love him so much and he runs away screaming in fear. It’s such a clear vision too 😭

- I LIKE THAT SO MANY PEOPLE ALSO THINK HE DYES HIS HAIR. Like we may have different headcanons on his natural hair color (for me I think it’s a dark brown) BUT SO MANY PEOPLE HEADCANON HES A FAKE BLOND AND IM OBSESSED.

- Oh he is SUCH a sweet treat kinda guy, I headcanon he has blood sugar issues, so small little snacks with a lot of sugar in them would be so good for him actually if his blood sugar dropped suddenly

- CAT MOM REAL. I think he’d have two of those hairless cats and he’d make sweaters for them. He treats them like his children, and he cried when Legend called them ugly (the cats are hideous but like in a cute way)

- Oh that scarf is fr gigantic and definitely bug enough to be a blanket. That’s his emotional support blanket and he takes extremely good care of it

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu warriors #lu wars #jes talks #jes ask #jes headcanons

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

5 fics i've enjoyed this month

stealing this idea from @alexturne because i absolutely love the idea of promoting all the amazing talented authors in this fandom more! 💜

missed your bones on me by @glorious-blackout summary: In the aftermath of their blissful reunion at Emirates Stadium, Miles wakes alone in Alex's bed to the sound of a gentle piano melody. Set following Miles' reunion with Arctic Monkeys on 18th June 2023. notes: this fic is absolutely beautiful. full of sadness for the past and hope for the future and just suffused throughout with the kind of bone-deep love that feels so utterly in character for milex. it tugged on my heartstrings in all the best ways, and has my favourite ever portrayal of alex lost in his creative headspace.

some velvet morning by @musette22/@subtle-as-an-earthquake summary: It happens at the OIympia in Paris, just after the show. Their hundredth show. A memorable one for more than just that reason, as it turns out. (Or, the fic in which Alex's body starts talking before his mind does, forcing him to finally realise a thing or two about his relationship with his best friend Miles). notes: oh my lord, this fic 😍 it's like someone (and by someone i mean @subtle-as-an-earthquake) took all my favourite tropes and poured them into a gorgeously written, tension-laden 14k fic that is so stupidly good i've already read it at least three times already 😅 it captures the dynamic between alex and miles SO well - the sense of contrasting complete ease/simmering tension with each other is one of the best portrayals i've ever read of them, and alex's thought process throughout unfolds in a way that feels so utterly (and infuriatingly) in character. the slow build is absolutely delicious, and the culmination of it delivers above and beyond! ✨

sometime in the future by @blacktrickle summary: In a world quite similar to this one, Miles Kane is an international supermodel and Alex Turner is the rockstar who has broken his heart one too many times. Now, two years after their most vicious break up, Alex is asking for one more shot, but this time, Miles won’t make it easy. notes: oh my goddddd THIS FIC 😭😭 i put off reading it for ages because i had this sneaking little suspicion it was going to destroy me - and i was right. destroy me it has, in the BEST possible way. i literally cannot recommend it enough. the writing and depth of character portrayal is just stunning, and i am completely and utterly hooked. i'm actually only halfway through rn, but already i know that this fic is one that's going to stay with me in my heart for the longest time - and can't wait to see where it's heading.

you've got control of everyone's eyes (including mine) by @alexturne summary: It's 2005 and the Arctic Monkeys are about to set out on their first proper tour. Alex is quite happy with that, until a certain someone gets in the way and spoils it all. A story about facing hardships, insecurities and stage fright, about friendships, dreams, music and smoking too many fucking cigarettes in dark back alleys. About keeping your friends close, and perhaps your enemies even closer. notes: i'm only three chapters in, but already this fic has hooked me in completely. it's beautifully readable, and just feels like such a vivid slice of early era am life. alex and miles are absolutely INSUFFERABLE in the best possible way - clearly obsessed with each other, but hiding behind the idea that they hate each other. the constantly simmering ust is wonderfully written, and the way they relate with each other feels so authentic (even if it also makes me want to knock their heads together). i can't wait to see where this fic goes 😍

ain't got anything to lick without you baby by @elorianna summary: At some point during their usual stage antics, Alex and Miles start playing an innocent game of one-upmanship – but with neither one of them willing to back down, things eventually get a little bit out of hand… notes: listen, i've read this one before. and i'll read it a bunch of times again too because it's just a CLASSIC. one of the first ever milex fics i read and i find myself returning to it over and over because it's just such a fun little read, and of course so well written too because it's elorianna. it captures all the ridiculousness and ust of eycte era milex messing around with each other, and the smut is well - *fans self*

okay, that's all for this month, but i think i'm going to try and do this every month and make it a regular thing! if anyone has any fic recs for me then please feel free to drop them in the comments/my asks/dms - i'm always on the lookout for more milex fics 💗

#these are just the five fics i've enjoyed most recently #it is by no means an exhaustive list of my all time favourites #also i have so many on my to-read list that i'm stupidly excited for too #i notice there's a new @yellowloid one i haven't read yet which ahhhhhhh. YES PLEASE 😍 #honestly god bless this fandom for having so many wonderful talented authors who share their work with us #i'm truly so grateful for you 💞 #milex #milex fic #milex fic recs #lulu posts

[usermakki]

i have a deep love for taking ao’nung to the forest fics. the idea of him getting up close and personal with an ikran, falling off a pa’li or teaching him how to use a bow only for the string to bounce back and hit his nipple - making you laugh as he winces at the sting

author’s note ; not the string hitting his nipple 💀 lamb my dear!! my introduction to this concept was through your last ao'nung drabble and i fell in love with it, like honestly 😭 it's so cute, so soft, so sweet!! and i couldn't help writing something about it. this is bad and rushed, but it's because i did this just now while at work lol i was looking over my shoulder every 5seconds

content ; na'vi! reader, established relationship, a lil bit of dumbass ao'nung, fluff, reader teaches ao'nung how to track, lowercase intended, this is unedited

being back in the forest feels refreshing.

there's familiarity in the way the wind blows, how it calls to you and welcomes you home. you've had been living long enough in the reef to fail to remember the path you used to take back to your marui, to forget the symbols you carved in the bark of a tree. it'll take a while until you feel like you belong again, and until then, you'll experience it all as if you've never known this place.

having ao'nung close by, going through the same process of acquainting himself with the forest, makes you a little bit glad. he's making a much bigger fool of himself than you are.

"these paw prints are exactly the same. i can't tell them apart."

you can sense how frustrated this makes him. he's used to navigating clan life as an adult, an experienced warrior who has taught many metkayina children how to hunt and handle their weapons, but here in the rainforest, he's reduced to a confused youngling once again. you don't blame him, but you do find humor in his predicament.

you squeeze his shoulder in reassurance, and he instantly relaxes under your touch. pointing at the first print, you begin to trace out some of the differences between them. "this print is more shallow, and the indentations of the claws are faint. either the animal is still young, or very light for his size.” he follows every movement of your hand. “and that means not enough meat.”

ao'nung only sighs, adjusting himself on his haunches. the movement makes the ripple-like stripes on his back shimmer under the early sunlight. the lighter green tone of his skin is a beautiful contrast to the darker and bright colors of the forest surrounding you. he looks prettier than you've ever seen him.

"but we can go back to this some other time." you pat his back. "get up big guy."

you step away to retrieve your bow to leave, but stop in your place when you notice that ao'nung hasn't budged. he now stands in the same spot, hands on his hips, staring up at the canopy of the trees. the expression of contemplation on his face is too cute, and you have to smother a giggle.

"what is it ?"

"kiri said we'd find some banana fruits here, but i don't see it."

"we're gonna have to climb the trees to find them."

"and how do we go about that ?"

you falter in place.

"well you just-you just climb." stuttering in astonishment. "do you not know how to climb ?"

"i never had to climb something before!"

the laugh that leaves your mouth is embarrassingly uncouth. "wait until lo'ak hears about this."

your heart is happy to be back.

lovehina© 2023 All rights reserved. Do not repost, reupload, translate, modify or claim my work as your own.

#gosh this is ugly my bad 👹 #but I just couldn’t stop thinking!!! yk #ao’nung x reader #ao’nung fluff #ao’nung drabble #ao’nung headcanon #avatar x reader #avatar fluff #avatar drabble #avatar headcanon #atwow x reader #atwow fluff #atwow drabble #atwow headcanon #.usermakki #.makiwrites #.makidrabbles