#how to start writing fanfiction

[gothamxwattpad]

How To Start Writing Fanfiction;

Hi, hello, I’m Jules and earlier today I was asked by a mutual about how to start getting into fanfiction. So, this is me doing my best to explain it as someone who sucks at explaining things.

First, what the fuck is fanfiction? Fanfiction is a type of writing that is based off existing works of fiction. What’s the point of it? Entertainment for both you, the fan and the writer and for the reader, whether you share it or not, that’s your choice. Fanfiction is supposed to be fun, if it’s not fun, put it down and try another project. But it also can be used to tell a different story then the original creator had. Maybe your perspective of that one character is different from other people, so you use YOUR perspective to tell the character’s story differently.

1) You can start by listing things you like; tv shows, movies, books, anime- literally anything you like.

I will use myself as example: the vampire diaries(great series and books), the great gatsby(a fucking classic everyone should read BEFORE seeing the movie which is also beautiful and sad and romantic), blood and chocolate- if you love werewolves and romance- fuck yes! I actually read the book and watched the movie so many fucking times, I could quote it as a teenager. I’m currently getting back into Marvel stuff after rewatching X-Men movies for two weeks. One of my favorite things about marvel is how well it’s done. The storylines co-existing simultaneously! Time travel!

-one fucking thing I’ve learned about time and space is that time itself is both existing and not existing at the same time and because scientists that have degrees and shit on it still haven’t figured it out so if you wanted to write about twilight characters finding a gadget that takes them back in time to change unpleasant outcomes they face in the real story, it would perfectly fine and super entertaining.- (seriously, if someone wanted to write that story, I would love to read it and go along that journey with you as you write it)

My point is; to write fanfiction, you have to start with something that YOU like. YOU- the fan- it’s YOUR story.

👉🏻 I forgot to mention that people do write fanfiction about band members they adore and I read some traumatizing good one direction fics when I was in high school. 👈🏻

2) Things to add to that list would include characters you love or hate🤷‍♀️ that’s cool too, quotes from characters for inspiration, settings that stand out to you. Maybe there’s a weird mood or idea that stood out to you. Write it down! The more notes you have can greatly benefit you even if that’s not the project you want to start out with.

3) Baby steps. You gotta start somewhere. One of my first fanfictions was written in middle school, I think some folks call it junior high? It was called Harry Potter and the Dragon’s Eggs. It was basically a fic based the goblet of fire where Harry Potter had slowly growing bond with Draco Malfoy’s sister(a nonexistent character that I made up for my fun) who also got her name in the goblet somehow. They (those chosen) were given dragon eggs to hatch. I never got to finish it because my English teacher got mad that I was writing during my “silent lunch”(a form of punishment where they separate you from your classmates to eat lunch alone and silent and that woman was not going to let little me write for fun during her punishment.) not only did she read it, call me over to criticize it, she then threw it away. But yeah, you have to start somewhere and it might not be great at first but it might surprise you. A lot of people write fanfiction better than they write original works🤷‍♀️. Honestly, if you’re having fun, who cares if it’s bad, again, you don’t have to share it if you don’t want to.

I recently found my Edgar Allan Poe fanfiction that I wrote for my high school senior project (a project that was worth x percentage of your final grade for the school year.) my idea was based off learning that Edgar Allan Poe went missing for a short bit before he passed away by an unknown cause. So, I wrote a story about him chasing strange visions and a letter from a woman he once knew. He had a creepy fucking raven stalking him and hallucinations. The point is; I took what I knew and then wrote a story from it. And you can take the most bare minimum of details about a show you love and still create something with it. The possibilities are literally endless. The only thing stopping you is YOU.

I want to thank my mutual @that-weird-kid-from-your-school for asking me, this was fun. And I’m sure I can add to it later on. I’m also always open to answering questions, whether it be in post form or in my inbox anonymously.

I will also be open to others adding any tips or advice that help them! 💜

[ronanlynchusurper]

i don’t think we talk enough about declan being equally as down bad and ‘all or nothing’ with romance as ronan is. like yes ronan said he would start wars and burn cities for adam’s true smile, begged god for adam after he first saw him and fortuitously had all his objects of worship were in one downtown block etc but ronan had known adam atleast 18 months at this stage. whereas declan really risked it all to get tyrian purple overnight for a first date gift after ONE conversation…the man was discussing their marriage as a ‘when’ not an ‘if’ before we even saw them kiss like what’s his excuse lmaoo

[lunamugetsu]

Danny is an ao3 writer

Hear me out!

Y'know how there's a running joke that ao3 authors/writers will put in the author's notes that they're sorry that they took so long to update and their reason is because of either they got into a horrible accident/ life threatening health issue/serious personal issues/ their life went up in flames figuratively or literally, or somehow a combination of all of those scenarios. And they're all like "Well enjoy the chapter! tee-hee!" and everybody who's reading it all collectively go "are you okay?!" (aka the ao3 writers curse)

So I want to take this, and add Danny

Danny begins taking a liking to the classic literature that Mr. Lancer talks about during class and decides to writes a fanfic about it along those lines. It all starts for when he writes a Pride and Prejudice fic where Charlotte gets a better life where she's both happy and comfortable. And when he gets pretty supportive comments about it. He starts writing fics for other books as well (and it never stops)

During that time, who else but the Jane Austen fan, Jason Todd reads this fic. Yes he reads fanfic (do not ask him about his ao3 history), he yearns for more Jane Austen, but unfortunately she's not exactly able to write more books for him to read. So he turns to ao3 where there are some people who have incredible talent for writing pretty good regency era romance.

So what happens when he finds a couple of Pride and Prejudice stories written by " HalfDeadHalfAliveWriter

And when reading through the stories and looking at the author's notes.

All with very weird scenarios happening to the writer that he can't be sure that if it's a joke or if it's an actual thing he should be very worried about.

Author's notes such as:

Sorry it took so long for me to update this I was being shot at by my parents and ended up getting a burn on my hand and couldn't use my computer for awhile.

Sorry the chapter's so short, all the people in my town are being possessed by a hoard of angry ghosts because somebody had a bright idea to steal an artifact that belongs to an ancient civilization. So I had to get this out quick before they ruin my wifi connection

Sorry I haven't updated in awhile, I had to fight off a crazy guy that is obsessed with killing my father so he could marry my mother and become my new stepfather.

Sorry for the wait I got sent back to Ancient Egypt by my mentor to hunt down a runaway ghost that was messing with time.

But honestly the most recent author's note on a fic that hadn't been updated in week is what makes Jason really worried.

Sorry for not updating for a couple months guys, I was taken by a government agency that started vivisecting and torturing me. Thankfully my sister and friends busted me out and now I'm working on healing up. Anyway here's the Great Gatsby fic where Nick and Gatsby kiss.

After reading that author's note, Jason just sits there thinking only one thing.

What the fuck?

[justpeaxchy]

'Elastic Heart.'

A/n: Haven't been able to finish this for a while lol, I started it one day and then got super busy after 😭 BUT HERE IT IS 💁🏼‍♀️

Warnings(?): none, just some angst, sort of 🌚. It's more on Hiccup's part though.

Hiccup x !Fem! Reader

Comfort on a rainy day is like a bowl of warm stew, which you offered to Hiccup.

The cold weather was always something you've grown accustomed to, no matter how much it constantly pricked at your skin with frigid gushes of wind that remained ever present within the isle of Berk. The summers were short, something you vaguely opposed, but there could be no possible way of changing how the climate operated.

So, it came as a minor surprise when it started raining today.

The winter season showed no lenity, like usual, but having it rain during the gelid period that was over Berk only seemed to heighten the unpleasant temperature which permeated it.

Thankfully, you were sitting tight and cozy in your hut, having just served yourself a nice bowl of mutton stew with a content sigh. The warmth which diffused from the fireplace saturated the room, bringing you a fleeting comfort that you weren't stuck outside needing to do extra work.

Just as you were about to take the long awaited bite of your soup, you managed to catch the sound of a pair of footsteps scuffling near your door – heavy, trudging steps that were mingled with the sound of...metal clanking against the ground.

Before you could dive deeper into your assumptions of who it was in front of your hut, they knocked, loud and boldly.

You heaved a sigh.

Begrudgingly rising from your seat, you shuffled towards the door, practicality dragging your feet there as your hand slowly edged the door open, peeking through the crack that was now visible to see who disturbed your moment of peace. You did a double take once you registered who exactly it was.

‘It is him..!’

Abruptly losing any sluggishness you had on your way to the entrance, you swung the door completely open and gawked at the Chief's son with a bewildered furrow of your brows. "Hiccup? What in Thor's name are you doing here?! It's raining!"

The young man in question merely shrugged, auburn hair glued onto his forehead and plastered down from being drenched in water. "Yeah, I noticed... So, uh...do you think I can..come in..?" He immediately seemed to regret what he said, rubbing the back of his neck as he found his boot more important to look at. "I-I mean, sorry, this is probably really unexpected, I just—"

The rest of his jumbled apology started to fade away, your gaze attentively scanning him over to observe him shivering in the slightest. And you also acknowledged Toothless who stood behind him, watching his rider in a concerned and puzzled manner, similar to how you probably appeared. It was obvious they've been outside for longer than they should have, and they needed to get warm.

As soon as possible.

You held up a hand, motioning for your friend to stop his fretting. "O-okay, okay, I get it... It's fine, just...get inside. You're going to get sick if you stay out here..!"

Hiccup glanced at you, startled by how swift you were in accepting his request, only to be lightly nudged by Toothless – a silent command to listen to your instructions. "Oh, uh, right – inside, yup." He hesitantly stepped in the hut, glimpsing around the place while you hastily went to retrieve some cloths to help him dry off his hair.

His eyes flickered over to the Night Fury beside him, silently questioning if he did the right thing or not. His only response from the dragon was a mere shake of his head, as though he didn't understand what was being implied.

You came back quicker than anticipated, a bundle of fabric in your hands while you spoke lowly, somewhat of a mutter. "Seriously, you better not get sick... Out here in the rain like there's not a problem in the world.." You gave him the cloths, which he gladly took, as you continued: "Dare I ask how long you've been outside?"

The supposed ‘Great Dragon Master’ before you shrugged, drying off his hair as you did the same to parts of his face. "Not long, trust me–"

"Pft. You said that last time."

He carried on as though you didn't mention anything. "We were coming back and it started raining."

You raised a brow, not fully satisfied with his answer. "Why are you soaking wet as if you've been dancing in the rain for all I know, then?"

Hiccup did his best to pat down his armor, drying what he could until both of your eyes met. "Don't worry. I'm telling the truth! You'd be surprised by how quickly one can get drenched just being outside on Berk for a couple of minutes while it's raining!"

"You say that like I haven't lived here my whole life."

He shrugged for the second time, rubbing the cloth against his auburn tufts. "Well, you talk like you didn't already know th–" His words were abruptly forced to an end as you purposefully ‘dried off’ his mouth, muffling him to prevent him from finishing the sentence.

You ignored the deadpan look he gave, taking a step away with an appeased nod. "There. You should be good now." You gestured towards the pot of soup you had made. "Want some mutton stew? It's fresh." Not completely waiting on a ‘yes’ or ‘no,’ you went to grab another bowl and spoon, serving him a decent amount as you beckoned him to come closer to the fireplace.

"Here. It'll help you get warmer faster." Your hands carefully laid the bowl in his grasp, intently watching as he mumbled a ‘thank you’ and began to eat. Of course, since you didn't hide the fact that you were staring, it only took a few meager seconds for him to raise his brows at you, silently inquiring why you were doing such a thing.

"Hm? Do I...got something on my face? Or..?"

You lightly shook your head, dragging your sight's focus onto your own stew. "No...but.." Pausing to take a bite, you kept your gaze on the fireplace. "...What made you go out there anyways? Just...curious.."

Hearing him sigh, you had an inkling as to what might've happened. It didn't come as a shocker when he ventured off with Toothless somewhere, unannounced. However, the reasonings for it could be different every time — almost.

"I'm sure you probably understand why.." He spoke quietly, as if he were afraid to disturb anyone else in the hut. Quite frankly, he didn't need to; your family barely went to the Great Hall, deciding to spend the evening alongside everyone else who may have been in there.

You hummed, appearing to contemplate the motive. "Does it involve a certain Chief of Berk and his son?"

Hiccup wryly pointed at you, a dry smile tracing his lips. "That's the winning answer..!"

You chuckled, glancing in his direction as you became more sincere. "...Well? What's going on now?"

Suddenly, he looked a bit reluctant to share, aimlessly shifting in his spot next to you. "It's nothing important. Just the usual...Chiefly lessons and what not.."

"Ah, so you ran away from it again?"

"You know it isn't like that.."

"Hiccup." You muttered, pointedly watching as he turned his focus onto the flames which crackled in front of you both. "I've known you since we were kids. There's no point in trying to hide it..."

"..Well obviously I can't hide anything from you.." He muttered back, suppressing a grin when you groaned dramatically. "Joking, I'm joking.."

"Why do you always have to joke when it comes to this?" You rubbed your face partly in irritation, while another side of you remained quite fond and amused at what he said.

"Oh, you know me.." He sighed again, the faint smile on his lips beginning to drift off into a delicate frown. "That's the usual way I take things, I guess."

His comment made you turn towards him, brows furrowed in a rising concern. You've been friends with him long enough to understand that, in most serious cases, he wouldn't completely throw it away into a sarcastic remark. Sure, he had his wits that could emerge in any arriving moment, but he wasn't one to utterly disregard a situation in an insouciant manner.

"Hiccup.." The name slowly fell from your lips, the genuineness of your tone sounding as an alarm to escape a slumber he didn't know he was in. "What happened, seriously?"

All you received was the obscure noise of him fidgeting with the spoon, aimlessly stirring the soup. It took him a prolonged minute to deliver a coherent response, still not meeting your attentive gaze as his words became identical to a mumble: "I just don't think I'm ready..."

He shifted in his spot for the second time in vain, struggling to maintain his composure while he turned his head to settle his focus on Toothless — an excuse to hide his distress. The Night Fury, who had been laying next to him, trilled lowly in concern for his best friend, glancing at you in a way that showed his worry. "Y'know...you think you're ready for something, but then you take one look at it and then...you just.."

Not being able to continue, Hiccup set the bowl down with a quivering hand that was hardly noticeable if someone were to look at him from afar.

You, however, were close to him in that moment. And you used that as an advantage.

Not caring where you placed your bowl, you quickly shifted towards his direction so you sat in front of him. He consequently lowered his head in order to prevent you catching him near an utter breakdown. "Hiccup, listen to me." You gently murmured, "You're gonna do great as Chief, despite what you may think–"

"That's what my dad says too, but it's a little challenging to believe that." He grumbled, hastily wiping his eyes.

"I mean what I say." Your voice became firm enough to make the statement obvious, keeping your attention on him alone. "It's a lot to bear, I know–" at that, he weakly shook his head, but you continued nonetheless, "yet, look at far you've come! I mean, you can't sit there and ignore everything you've accomplished in the last five years! Stoick sees the potential that's inside of you and he made the decision to have you as the future Chief for a reason. He didn't just do it on a whim."

"But can someone like me really lead people who thought I was–" His speech was cut off by none other than himself, toiling against the emotions which threatened to burst out in the form of tears. Alas, he wouldn't cry like that in your presence; he predicted it would cause you to be a lot more worried than you and Toothless already appeared. Not that he couldn't, rather, he preferred not to bring additional fret when it was in his power to do so.

"...Who thought I was a failure." He finished, green eyes meeting yours at last. You kept quiet, having an impression that he would carry on, which he soon did. "Everyone always...watched...watched what I was gonna do next to be a screwup again. That pressure would definitely be...a lot, to put it in fewer words, if I were Chief."

Hiccup's somber gaze landed on Toothless, grateful for the comforting expression the dragon gave him. He expected you to say something in the meantime, persuade him into thinking he could be ‘the best Chief in the world’ and other motivational remarks that was supposed to make him happier. Your silence on the subject became the reason he slowly glanced back at you, shrugging in a questioning manner. "...What..?"

You lightly shook your head, a near intangible smile climbing onto your lips as you copied him and shrugged too. "Nothing. I'm only wondering why you..assume you can't lead because of what people have said about you in the past." His brows creased at that, puzzled. You rolled your eyes in return. "Don't you know you're already a leader, Hiccup?"

The future Chief blinked, looking as though the mutton stew left a bad taste in his mouth. Groaning in a vexation that was entirely fake, you patted his hand, intentionally keeping your sight on him. "You're already a leader." You repeated, "All the things you've done for Berk these past years, bringing peace between us and dragons, risking your life multiple times, and what happened on the Edge? There's clear evidence that you have the capability to be Chief. In actuality, think of it as another word for a leader. That's it."

You retracted your hand, the action not very enjoyable for him, and your smile grew. "See what I'm trying to get at? You are that leader, Hiccup. There's no point in fighting it."

His disagreement visibly showed, indicating his reluctance to accept it. "Being a Chief and a leader of a small group are two very different things–"

"Ah, what a muttonhead you are.."

"Oh, geez, thanks. That really helped." He muttered, pretending to stand but immediately stopped when you snorted and pulled him down, accidentally bringing him closer to you than where he sat before.

"I'm kidding..! Sort of.." You mumbled the last part, not yet realizing the short space between the both of you. "Plus, you can't leave yet! You haven't even finished your food!" Your expression molded into a slight pout, showing you were completely joking.

Hiccup breathed out a dramatic sigh, shaking his head as he brushed a hand through his hair and kept his gaze on the floor. "Seriously..." He paused, very briefly, "Can I really lead like my dad does..? It just looks...impossible."

You pondered on his question, humming in assiduous consideration of what to say back. "..I think you won't be the exact same, no. But that's a good thing. You are your own person, and I know for a fact that you'll be able to step into the role of Chief with everything Stoick taught you in your own Hiccup way. Plus, you won't be alone — not really. You have Toothless, me, and the others. We won't let you drown in whatever stress it may bring either, so there's no need to worry about that part."

The young, persevering, yet slightly self-doubting man took in your words, his countenance emerging in a revived reassurance like the rising of the dawn, a fragile smile starting its journey of arriving onto his lips once more. "I sure hope you do.." He chuckled quietly, glimpsing at your relieved features. "Well, I guess it helps ease my conscience a little knowing that Snotlout wouldn't be leading an entire tribe.."

"Even better a reason for you to be Chief!" You snorted, doing your best to contain your laughter, "You'll be saving us all by not letting him be in a position like that..!"

Just then, you became aware of the nearness which had been created in the midst of you two, causing your heart to jump at the unexpected proximity as you shifted away, although it wasn't conspicuous enough to be pointed out by him. "..Anyways," You carefully reached for his bowl, suddenly a bit nervous, "You should probably finish your mutton stew or else–"

The speech you formed didn't have the opportunity to finish, mainly because Hiccup moved forward and lightly pecked your cheek, forever silencing you — at least for that split second. You reminded yourself of the bowl you held, leaving you utterly defenseless as an abrupt warmth clothed your face, adorning it in a rich cerise shade.

What gave the future Chief the boldness and confidence to do such a thing, he didn't have one clue, but as he allowed his eyes to rest on you for the second time, he came to terms with what he actually did. Your eyes were widened, mouth slightly gaped, and you appeared to be struggling to grasp the dish.

'Oh, Gods..!'

"I-I, uh, well, thank you so much for..everything, yeah–" Hiccup stuttered, hastily grabbing the vessel out of your shaking clutches, "Me and Toothless should probably, uh, get going..now...because..you know, i-it's late.. I-I, uh, I'm sorry–" He nearly tripped as he stood, using the Night Fury to prevent another accident. "Woops — uh, yeah! We'll be leaving now. Talk to you tomorrow...morning..?" He tacitly asked, even in the middle of his embarrassment.

You were staring off into space, remaining in the same spot as you weakly nodded and offered a thumbs up, "Y-yeah...tomorrow...morning.."

He sheepishly grinned in return, clearing his throat and hesitating to speak about the short kiss, but decided to leave it for...tomorrow. So, with that, he rushed to the door, mutton stew and all, shutting the door as quick as he could.

It had been a few minutes until you were able to physically move, blinking in the pure astonishment of Hiccup's actions. "..huh.." Your hand slowly touched the part of your cheek where he had kissed, being welcomed by the sensation of flushed skin while you glanced at your dish of food .

You chortled.

"He'll have to give my bowl back tomorrow anyways.."

[fyeahnix]

Sevika's usually great at betting, but...

cw: femme!reader, mild smut, rimming, oral sex, sevika being salty

------

Contrasted to the rowdy, hot and heavy, drug-filled nights, daytime at The Last Drop was as silent as they came. Thieram sanitized the bar, cleaned and polished glasses while another grunt whose name escaped you swept the mess around the pool and card tables. Other goons lazed around with their feet on the tables or roughhoused in open space.

It was peaceful.

...Or it would have been if not for the aggressive almost-shouting match on the floor above. The voices stung like venom, quick and slithering in a way reserved for two bitter exes. Except they weren't exes, they were two sassy businessmen trying to strike a mutual deal over shimmer and territory.

You leaned against the staircase on the side furthest from the bar. Sevika stood next to you, her solid, muscular arm resting flush against yours. Though neither of you disliked PDA, you cherished the innocent touches shared on... mostly-quiet days like this.

Sevika scoffed when another screech—definitely not Silco's—breached the office door. She inhaled a long drag from the joint in her hand, then held it in front of you for a hit.

You accepted. Smoke burned your lungs in the same breath that it dribbled out of Sevika's.

"So-o," you started with a cough. "Tell me again why he didn't want you in the meeting?" You handed the joint back.

Sevika shrugged. Her warm skin brushed yours. "Said the guy didn't like the way I was lookin' at him. Didn't wanna feel threatened makin' a deal. Silco said he'd handle it."

"Sounds like a bitch to me," you muttered.

It wasn't like Silco to leave Sevika behind like this. Despite the perception between the two, she was much more involved in his business dealings than the stereotypical right-hand henchman. She was his second, his tried-and-true number two. And a damn good one at that. And while Sevika wouldn't outright admit it, her body language conveyed otherwise.

She sulked for the last day—rigid shoulders, perpetual scowl—and snapped at her underlings more often than usual. She eased up when you chided her for it but only by a margin and only when she thought you weren't paying attention. It wasn't like her and though you forced down the urge to laugh at her childishness, you understood.

"It's Silco. If he says he'll handle it, then let 'im do it."

"Doesn't sound like he's doing a good job..."

"He'll be fine."

"Sev. You're giving him too much credit."

Sevika shrugged again.

It wasn't so much an about-face as it was confidence in her boss. Sevika was... distrustful. That proved obvious considering how long it took for her to open up to you. But Silco proved himself to be more capable than the average wannabe drug lord with that silver tongue of his. Regardless of what reservations you had of him, Sevika held him in high enough regard to carry out his plans. Key words: high enough.

"Way too much credit, actually," you continued. "I don't think he has a chance in hell of securing this."

"Wanna bet?"

You folded your arms and glared at her. The weed started to hit, and you felt your brain losing its grip on your filter.

"Bet on what? Proving Silco can't do shit without you?"

The words bounced off her. Not the first time she'd heard as much. Certainly wouldn't be the last.

Sevika took another drag of the joint and let smoke billow from her mouth back into her nostrils. "I think you're underestimating him. Never said he could do it all, but this he can."

"Yeah, I don't believe it."

"Baby, I will eat your fuckin' ass over it."

You raised a brow. "Really? You gon eat my ass over it."

"Yeah," she said bumping you with her arm, half-annoyed, half-playful. "Just listen."

You rolled your eyes. "Okay."

---

"Vikaaa, oh fuck, Vika, right there..."

You clawed the bed sheets in front of you for dear life. Angled your hips higher, doing anything you could to give your girlfriend prime access to her prize. She spoke three languages with that tongue but you'd argue for a fourth with the way she had you arching your back and curling your toes.

"Relax," she cooed, voice muffled into your ass cheeks.

How could you? How fucking could you relax when she massaged the nerve endings at the rim of your asshole? WHILE her claws palmed your ass, and WHILE her thumb circled your clit?

You couldn't. And before you knew anything, your orgasm rolled in fast and hard. Sevika drew it out with languid licks up and down your asshole until you quivered and your knees buckled and you panted her name like a dog in heat.

When she granted you reprieve, she collapsed next to you, lips scrunching at the cocky smile spreading across your face.

"You want me to say it or do you want the honors?" you teased.

"Fuck off."

------

taglist: @gaudesstuff @archangeldyke-all @abitohoney @sexysapphicshopowner @iamaboringrattat

@ash-fall7 @the-anonmaton @peanutbutterprincess @thesevi0lentdelights @kylorey25

@thegothicchangeling @slut4sevika @pauphs @jullsii

[honnelander]

go fish! part 2

guyssss i did NOT expect this little series to blow up. y'all are amazing! i'm turning into a Sanji writing blog and am i mad about it? no lmao i received a couple of requests and i'll work on them as soon as i can. i'm really in the zone rn so i'll ride this wave as long as i can. if you want to be a part of the taglist for whenever i post new Sanji content, lmk. i hope you enjoy!

WARNINGS: none

word count: 2.8k

pairing: opla!sanji x fem!reader

summary: after being humiliated by Usopp earlier, reader stays in her room to decompress. however, she gets a visitor.

prequel part 1 part 3 part 4 masterlist

taglist: @smolracoon25 @mischiefmanaged71 @jovialcat123

Mortified. That’s how you felt. Still. 

Ever since you ‘forfeited’ from finishing your Go Fish card game with Usopp a couple of hours ago, you had taken your glass of water that Sanji had poured for you and boarded up in your shared room with Nami, refusing to come out due to “heat exhaustion”. 

Poor Luffy, ever the golden hearted captain, was immediately worried for your wellbeing as soon as he heard that but after multiple reassurances from you and getting up off of your hammock multiple times to prove you were in fact, just fine, he relented from wanting to stop by the nearest island so he could find a doctor for you. Usopp had managed to convince him as well that all you needed was some water, alone time, and that you would be fine by dinnertime. 

You rubbed your eyes as you let out a sigh, vowing to yourself that the next time you wanted some time by yourself, you should just take a bath or something, since any other excuse would cause someone on the crew (Luffy) to lose their mind at the thought of someone not feeling well. 

You readjusted yourself, sitting more upright, as you downed the last of your water, it being warm by this point since it had been poured by Sanji hours ago. 

Sanji. Ugh.  

Your heart fluttered once again at the mere thought of him, but that flutter was immediately replaced by a wave of crashing embarrassment at the thought of the afternoon’s sequence of events. What had happened earlier wasn’t even anything that groundbreaking or special, but to you? It was everything. It wasn’t common practice in your life for the object of your affections to be so kind towards you, so thoughtful, to read and anticipate your needs before you even knew they were even there. But Sanji? He was all of that and more. And you didn’t even know him for that long! You’ve all been a part of the straw-hat crew for 5 months at this point and it felt silly to admit to yourself that you had developed a crush on one of your crewmates in that short amount of time. 

And having feelings for your crewmate? Someone who you literally couldn’t get away from since you all were trapped on a ship together (not that you would ever want to be away from him or anyone else for that matter, besides Usopp, but still), it felt morally wrong. You guys were all a team. Sure, you all were off to sail around the world and chase dreams, but achieving all of that required teamwork and trust, and that was hard to do if two of those people were caught up with matters of the heart every hour of every day. 

Like, what if things didn’t work out in the end? Would you really want to put the crew’s dynamic at stake just because you thought the blonde guy was cute? No, you wouldn’t. It would be selfish so you would never dare to put yourself or Sanji in that position. No matter how much you liked him. 

So as much as it pained you, you could never tell Sanji how you feel. You would never cross that line of being a ‘professional pirate’ into something more, like a pirate wife. Or a pirate chef’s wife. 

It definitely didn’t help that freaking Usopp of all people on the crew knew about your affections for Sanji. Ugh, you groaned. He was the absolute worst person to know about it too. Why did he have to figure it out? Why did he have to be the one that had put two and two together to equal four? That your random bouts of awkwardness and shyness plus ‘heart eyes’ and blushes whenever Sanji was around equaled to you having a forbidden crush on the crew’s chef? It was embarrassing. And complicated.  

He loved to stir the pot too, so whenever he could tease you for it when you both were alone or in front of a clueless Sanji, he would. You remembered the kiss he had shared with Kayla back when the straw-hats had acquired the Going Merry, so you definitely jabbed him right back when you had had enough, since part of you felt guilty for it since Kayla was thousands of miles away and Sanji lived on this ship with you. Your situations were slightly similar but completely different.  

Also, completely different in the way that him and Kayla were basically dating at this point, albeit long distance, and had shared a kiss while you could barely sustain eye contact that lasted more than 5 seconds with Sanji. 

You were hopeless. 

“Knock, knock,” a familiar accented voice came through the closed door. “Y/n? Are you awake?” 

"Sanji?” you blurted out in complete surprise.  

Shit. You weren’t mentally prepared to see him just yet. At all. You were still replaying the interaction you both had earlier in your head, your overthinking mind going over every minute detail to figure out if Usopp’s careless teasing had given away your affections.  

Usopp, you mentally ground out. You were going to kill him. Sanji had never stopped by your room before so what on earth was he doing here now?  

Suddenly, a thought struck you like a bolt of lightning and made your stomach drop fifty miles below sea level: if Sanji had specifically stopped by your room just to gently let you down, that no, in fact he did not feel the same way about you, that he only thought of you as a member of the crew and nothing more....then yeah, you were definitely going to kill Usopp and throw him overboard. 

Before you could mentally plot out more details on Usopp's murder, the door opened and the straw-hat chef’s blonde head appeared. His eyes quickly scanned Nami’s empty hammock on the room’s left side before turning his head to the right, his blue eyes immediately finding your surprised ones, a (relieved?) smile lighting up his face at the sight of you. 

“So, I take it you’re awake?” Sanji asked in a light, teasing tone but not making an effort to move himself away from the doorway. 

“Uh, y-eah,” you stuttered out in surprise as you just stared at him dumbfounded. You still couldn’t figure out why he was here. 

Sanji continued to lock eyes with you, making your cheeks flush the longer you both stared at each other, and your palms sweat as the silence stretched on, making the tension in the air become thicker by the second. He blinked, his eyes darting to the side in confusion, raising an eyebrow as he asked, “May I come in?” 

“OH! Yes, of course- sorry,” you stuttered as you waved him inside, sitting up in your hammock and mentally face palmed yourself. Of course, Sanji was waiting on you to invite him inside. Like always, he was acting like a true gentleman. “Please, come in. Have a seat. Sorry, that was rude of me. Make yourself at home.” 

Sanji stood up to his full height and walked into your room with an easy smile and a small laugh, closing the door behind him. “Ah, don’t ever apologize y/n. You could never be rude to me,” Sanji rebuttalled and waved off your apology as he looked around and took in your very plain and basic shared room with Nami.  

Your room, or side of the room more specifically, wasn’t much to brag about considering you really didn’t have much to your name but for now, it was home to you. Your side consisted of your hammock, a wooden barrel next to it to act as a makeshift nightstand that housed your only book, a journal, and a lamp, along with an empty wooden crate to act as a makeshift seat and another to hold some of your other clothes and small travel bag. Nami’s side was similar to yours but had a touch more personality as she hung up some maps she found at various markets and drew up herself on her wall. 

You swallowed, suddenly feeling a tad self-conscious about the lack of things in your room considering your current guest was dressed, as usual, to the nines in his signature black suit and blue and white striped shirt complete with a skinny black tie. “Sorry for the sad state of my room-” 

“Sad?” Sanji stopped admiring your room and snapped his gaze to look at you. His eyebrows pulled together as another confused smile adorned his features. “Why would you say that? Your room isn’t sad, I like it. It’s a reflection of you,” his next words came out softer, “and I think that’s beautiful.” 

You could feel heat crawling up your neck at his words as you busied yourself with placing the empty glass in your hand on your barrel nightstand. There was no way Sanji was calling you beautiful, he was just commenting on your room. With Nami. On your shared room that owed any ounce of ‘personality’ to the ship’s navigator because it was obvious you literally brought nothing special to this room whatsoever.  

You stopped yourself from spiraling into ‘I don’t bring anything special to the straw-hats, I don’t know why they keep me around’ thoughts because now wasn’t the time to think about any of that. Those dark thoughts were reserved when you couldn’t sleep in the middle of the night.  

As you placed the glass on the nightstand, you asked, “So, what brings you all the way to my room? Aren’t you usually prepping for dinner around this time?” 

Sanji’s eyes followed your hand and lit up when he saw the sole book on your nightstand. “Oh, a book? I didn’t know you liked to read.” His megawatt smile lit up a couple of notches as his eyes sparkled, he looked like he had just learned one of the universe’s greatest mysteries as he took a seat near you on an empty crate. “What book is that?” 

“Oh, that?” You mentally deflated at the fact you now had to tell Sanji about your favorite book, “It’s Pride and Prejudice.”  

You weren’t ashamed of having that book specifically, you loved it and it was your favorite book of all time, you had lost count at how many times you had read it at this point, but it was the fact that you now had to share this part of yourself with the guy you fancied. Guys normally scoffed and turned their nose up at romance book and romantic things, so you were bracing for Sanji to scoff and laugh at you like all the other guys did (like even Zoro and Usopp did when they first saw you reading it) but it never came. 

Instead, Sanji’s smile remained bright. “Ah, so you’re a lover of classic romances? Pride and Prejudice? Romeo and Juliet?” 

Immediately, you smiled, finding yourself instantly comfortable suddenly whenever you got to talk about one of your favorite things. “Absolutely. I don’t think there’s a problem big enough out there that love can’t solve. Family backgrounds? Wealth and status? At the end of the day, none of that stuff matters. What matters is if two people love each other.” 

Sanji stayed quiet for a moment, looking into your eyes with a twinkle of an emotion that you couldn’t decipher. It made your heart skip a beat. “Yeah,” he agreed quietly, never breaking eye contact. “I agree.” 

You swallowed. “You like this stuff too? Have you read Pride and Prejudice?” 

Sanji blinked and that indescribable emotion he had in his eyes was gone. His smile remained, however, and became sheepish as he held up his hands, “Ah ok, you caught me. I’ve never read the full thing, but I know the main parts of the story. My favorite part that I did read though, was the first dinner with Mr. Collins and he complimented the Bennets on their ‘excellent boiled potatoes’.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, shaking your head slightly as you teased, “I should’ve known that the chef of the Going Merry’s favorite part of the book is when food is discussed!” 

The blonde cook held his hands up again with a good-natured laugh, “Ah, you got me!” His face softened as he asked, “What about you?" He nodded towards the book. "What’s your favorite part?” 

You paused for a second as you mulled the question over. “Well, I'm not sure if you know about this part since you never read the book...” 

“Try me,” he encouraged softly. 

Your face turned to the side, your eyes looking at the wooden wall to your right, unable to bring yourself to look at Sanji as you told him your favorite part of your favorite book. You took a deep breath to steady yourself and calm your nerves, your voice becoming quiet as you told him, “My favorite part is...when Mr. Darcy barges in on Elizabeth for the first time, while she’s at her friend Charlotte’s house writing a letter. He had come to practice ‘conversating’ with her since he admitted that it wasn’t something he was good at and she had told him to practice it. So, Mr. Darcy just barged in and they had one of the most painfully awkward conversations ever...and he did all that just because he loves her. He did something he hated and was bad at, and opened himself up to embarrassment just because he wanted to improve and be better for her. It’s so romantic and beautiful.” 

The air was quiet after your mini monologue and for a moment, nothing could be heard except for their quiet breathing and the occasional crash of the ocean from outside your small window. 

Part of you worried that your little rambling had bored Sanji, so when you finally looked at him, imagine your surprise when you found him leaning in towards you, hands clasped, elbows resting on his knees and his eyes watching you, completely engaged. It was like he was hanging onto your every word. 

Sanji scanned your face for a moment, the corner of his lips curling upwards as he said, “Yeah, you’re right. I’m not familiar with that part in the book,” and before you could open your mouth to bring yourself down, he continued, “but, that doesn’t mean your answer is wrong.” He leaned back and slapped his hands against his thighs, “Hell, it’s a much more insightful answer than mine!” He laughed. “I just liked how they were poking some fun at boiled potatoes.” 

You laughed with him because yes, that part in the book also made you laugh as well. But at the mention of food, you realized that you still didn’t know why Sanji was here in the first place. Wasn’t he normally prepping for dinner at this time? He had to be running behind schedule at this point. 

“Why are you here, Sanji? Isn’t it almost time for dinner?” 

“Yeah, it is actually but I heard you weren’t feeling well so I wanted to check in on you, make sure you’re feeling alright and see if you have any special requests for dinner?” 

You couldn’t help the slight smile that overtook your face, trying to hide the blush at the fact that he was kind enough to check in on you and offer to practically be your own personal chef for the evening. 

You hummed for a moment, acting like you were deep in thought before asking with a raised eyebrow, "And what would you say if I requested some boiled potatoes?”  

The smile that lit up the chef’s face was priceless. He had never looked more beautiful. “To that, I would say ‘Absolutely. If that’s what the missus wants, then that is what the missus will get.’” 

Missus. There it was again. You felt all warm inside whenever he called you that, it made you feel like he was your husband and that you were his wife. But that wasn’t the case. Sanji definitely must have called other women that before. You weren’t special to him, he was just being polite.  

You swallowed down your emotions, putting your sudden wave of sadness away for later, putting on a small smile. “Then that sounds perfect. I would like to formally request some ‘excellent boiled potatoes’ as a side for dinner, please.” 

If Sanji noticed your sudden change in mood, he didn’t show it. Instead, he grinned as he said, “Excellent choice, Madam. Boiled potatoes, coming right up.” As he stood up and made his way towards your door, Sanji did one of the most unexpected things that nearly knocked the wind out of you. With his left hand on the doorknob he said, “And don’t worry, Madam. I’ll sprinkle in a little bit of extra love in there,” he turned and winked at you, “just for you.” 

With that, Sanji left your room, gently closing the door behind him, leaving you completely dumbstruck in your room, your mouth agape and body frozen. 

Did Sanji just say he loved you? 

You shook your head, because there was no way he did, right? He said he’d ‘sprinkle in some extra love’ into your potatoes, not 'I love you". You weren’t a chef, maybe that was a euphemism for something. 

You sighed.  

Those better be some good boiled potatoes. 

[courfee]

it's been exactly a year since the last chapter of Operation Walburga's Arbitrary No Kissing Ever Rule and I still miss it. This scene is probably one of my favourite things I've ever written and I've wanted to draw it for forever, so now seemed like an appropriate time

[spacetimeaccordionfolder]

Why Let the Offal Go to Waste?

Thought about this post too long and wrote this in two hours!

Note, this started as me musing in the tags on that post and then i had 4 paragraphs as a reblog before stopping and moving to a doc, so it starts without much of an introduction. I might recommend reading the post first for more context. I think I want to write a slightly longer version of this with more of an intro, so this is Why Let the Offal Go to Waste (prime) essentially.

Kayne thinking about Arthur being his and eating his heart, 846 words.

@fortheglowingeyes

What is - no, was - what was wrong with him?! Why was Arthur Lester different? Was that Lillith's fault -that was what he'd said - she'd watched him as a child, let him survive then and well that clearly had meant something or.

Or. Or something else. Something else made him different. Something Kayne couldn't see. Something that let Arthur survive and come out better. To talk of hope like there could be hope in a universe made by an uncaring, unthinking, dreaming THING!

His thumbnail punctured Arthur's heart, small stream of blood rolling down his thumb. Kayne stared at the first drop as it moved, as it moved across his wrist before meeting his shirt sleeve, joining the rest of Arthur's blood that had soaked there. More blood moved along the bottom of his pinky finger.

The voices in his head quieted to a whisper watching the drop, as it half rolled down to the shirt sleeve, half seemed drawn by gravity towards the ground, to the rest of Arthur beneath him and the blood around them. Torn between them. Slowly, carefully, lest the drop fall before its time, Kayne brought his hand towards his mouth - leaning closer - and wiped away the indecisive drop with his tongue.

The taste of Arthur’s blood bloomed in his mouth like a fine wine. Kayne closed his eyes, savoring the taste. He’d tasted others, of course, but this was his Arthur. 

His Arthur who hated being told what to do, who he couldn’t see coming, who was a fascinating, annoying, mystery, who lived and struggled and survived. Who wouldn’t live to fit another’s mold, to be confined to living for another’s purpose. Who could not be just the happenstance of a blind idiot’s dream! Azathoth didn’t think, didn’t feel, see, care, listen, or know anything! Didn’t have hidden designs unfolding, didn’t have a plan to make things better or any reason for the suffering in those smaller than him, didn’t extend a hand to his children when they begged him to answer, to acknowledge them, to hear words they said and to respond in some way.

No, his Arthur Lester was more than a spec from Azathoth’s dream. 

Arthur Lester was Kayne’s.

Kayne had killed him. He’d cradled his face as he cried and gurgled and the little king begged and wept. The body below - and on - him had been irreparably changed by Kayne, torn asunder, made into something new. A design that was not Azathoth’s. A work of art that was entirely Kayne’s.

There was still that something one of the voices in his head murmured, breaking the moment. The something that made him survive, made him an anomaly. What Kayne hadn’t understood. The something, he thought annoyed towards the voice, was Lillith. Discontent passed through his head. Was it? Was that really right? It must be.

Or - oh look, we’ve come full circle - he was something different. An anomaly like Kayne, not like the mold they were supposed to fill and Kayne still had no idea why.

And would never know.

Arthur Lester was dead. Kayne had seen to that. And there was a small part of him that Kayne didn’t know and couldn’t make his.

Kayne opened his eyes. While thinking, his hand had moved away from his face - blood running less now - but it was still close enough to take up the majority of his vision.

An idea occurred to him. One that seemed to be funnier the longer he let it linger in his mind. A small chuckle turned into Kayne doubled over with manic laughter, forehead nearly touching Arthur’s, his hand holding Arthur’s heart tucked between them, nearly against his own. Eventually, Kayne sighed, sat back upright, and looked at Arthur’s heart.

There was something different about Arthur. Something Kayne didn’t know. Something that wasn’t Kayne’s, wasn’t his. But it could be.

Kayne raised the heart to his lips and smiled. Softly kissed the muscle. Whispered against it “thank you.” Then bit down. Muscle and fat tore slowly, severing under his teeth, ripping, blood flowing, and Oh god if he thought Arthur’s blood was divine the experience of this was heaven anew. He savored the taste, the feeling of the heart, chewing slowly, before swallowing and looking at the heart again. Now missing a bite sized part of it.

Kayne could make that something his, could make all of Arthur a part of him. When killing the other versions of himself, he’d never done something like this. He’d made their worlds his, added them to himself, made himself the entirety of his soul, but to consume and transform like this…

Arthur’s body would be transformed into his, staying with him, belonging to him, being him. Not Azathoth’s, Kayne’s. Would be made entirely new, even whatever it was that made his Arthur Lester different, kept him alive. That too would be Kayne’s - maybe it would help Kayne in his Wager. 

Arthur Lester wasn’t entirely Kayne’s, not yet. But he would be.

Kayne took another bite of Arthur’s heart, this one even better than the first. 

[theotherbuckley]

Just a reminder that people can write whatever they like! If you don’t like it don’t read it! It’s so simple. It doesn’t matter if you think it’s bad. It’s fanFICTION. Which people do for free. If you don’t like it don’t interact. You can ever block or mute them!! But that doesn’t mean it’s wrong. As long as they’re tagged correctly they’re giving you the tag you need to decide if you don’t want to read it.

[palabraasinnecesarias]

"Aren't I lucky?" 752 words.

couldnt get them outta my head so naturally im back

Sharing a space had become the most normal thing about them, Akane had noticed. Everywhere she went, there he was. In the mornings, they’d seem to bump shoulders as they made her way down the stairs for breakfast if he wasn’t already eating. The walk to school required both, apparently. During lunch, if he was still hungry and didn’t have enough money to buy himself an extra bite at the cafeteria, it didn’t take long to find her and see if she’d be finishing whatever bento Kasumi made that day.  

Their walks home had been quite uneventful, she’d noticed, appreciating the peace of no bicycle bell ringing in a teasing menace nowadays. If they weren’t at the dojo, they’d be sharing the space of the family room; she enjoyed some evening television now and then, Nabiki typically having beat her to the remote and calling dibs. Tonight, the youngest tendo found herself with no older sister, yet couldn’t claim control of said remote.  

When taking her last step into the family room after remembering Nabiki would be out for the evening, she hadn’t considered that her fiancé was wanting to enjoy some cable entertainment.  

Ranma was laying on his side, a bag of rice cakes just at arm’s reach, laughing quietly by himself. Without much of a thought, she stepped further into the family room, stopping until reaching him and letting herself sit beside him. He glanced up at her momentarily, acknowledging her presence with a mumbled, “Hey, tomboy,” before returning his attention back towards the television.  

He laughed again, and she returned his greetings quietly. He was seemingly captivated by the purposeful funny obstacle course on television in which every competitor’s goal was to finish the race, failing miseribly, or rather comically, getting knocked out midway or just as they were beginning their race. And for obvious reasons, that seemed to bright up Ranma.  

And she had caught herself thinking, it was delightful, his laughter that is.  

“Look at this idiot, Akane,” he snorted, “he ain’t gon’ make it.”  

She glanced at the television, chuckling along with him for a moment before returning her attention back at the young boy having a grand time. She gingerly bit her lower lip, trying to withhold her own grinning smile, finding herself fawning at the way his laughter resonated within just them two.  

It tugged at her heartstrings, furrowing her eyebrows at the instant realization that she was probably appearing like a lovesick adolescent, even if she was; she didn’t seem to bother about such details. Instead, she allowed herself a moment, and listened to his laughed carefully. She wanted to memorize it, engrave into her brain the way the corner of his grin curled high.  

And just then, he looked up when it cut to commercials, lifting an eyebrow, suddenly making her become conscious as to how she must’ve appeared with her own stupefied expression. Still, it was hard to disperse of the corners of her lips, unable to hide how joyous she felt.  

“You ‘kay, Akane?” He began sitting up, adjusting himself to lean forward, his smile and laughter dismissed for a curious one. And he was suddenly too close, and she could take in the extra details of his face, such as the elongated length of his eyelashes blinking expectantly at her.  

“Yeah,” she replied with a bigger smile, creases forming around her eyes as she continued, “I was just enjoying your laugh.” And her own laughter erupted as she saw the shift of his eyebrows raise high, with a subtle hint of blush overtake his face, yet he stayed put.  

“Y-yeah?” He hadn’t known what to say to that, and she found his nervousness enduring, nodding timidly at him.  

“Yes,” she said.  

“Geez, Akane,” he breathed in, his voice hardly audible in an under breath, “saying things...like-like-”  

“Like I’d love to hear your laughter forever?” She teased childishly, giggling as such just as her hands reached to hold his cheeks and squeeze, her teeth showing as she wrinkled her nose, “Aren’t I lucky?”  

He didn’t say anything to that, but she could see the way his eyes soften as they looked at her, along with his eyebrows, pulling her in as she smiled more tenderly at him.  

“You’re such a... such a...”  

“Dork? Dweeb?” She laughed louder, releasing her hold on his face, not surprised when Ranma’s own hands instantly reached for hers to hold. His flustered face beamed brightly, and oh, god, how she loved him.  

“Yeah.” He replied.  

[myokk]

fast sketch of my one-shot with Ominis💓

legilimency

Word count: 1.700

Rating: M (language)

Ominis Gaunt is a lost case - lost to the whims of one very determined Gryffindor sitting at his side.

They sit in the back of the History of Magic classroom, the only two students not lulled to somnolence by their professor. He: trying his hardest to focus on Professor Binns’ droning (easier said than done). She: trying her hardest to distract Ominis while not being entirely sure of being successful or not (easier attempted than understood).

Professor Binns is completely insufferable, of course. Ominis wonders if the ghost is as blind as he is: Binns willfully ignores the fact that all of his students use his class as an excuse to get a nap in (maybe he simply doesn’t see them sleeping - only one of many reasons why Ominis has decided he could never be a professor), rambling on and on in the most boring way possible. As if he were trying to be as dull as possible (maybe he does it to avoid interacting with the students which…can’t be to blame). In a different life, Ominis could see himself quite liking the subject, but as things stand he despises it.

Especially now.

Ominis fervently wishes that he could fall asleep.

Then, he might avoid hearing her thoughts - they’re consuming him and he can’t ignore them as much as he would like to.

Normally, he loves this class - not the subject, obviously - but the class itself, for the sheer fact that it is the only time where he gets some peace and quiet. Everyone’s minds nice and quiet and shut off for the time being while they sleep. Although he has gotten used to ignoring the thoughts of everyone around him, their various voices mixing and mingling with each other into a dull thrum in the back of his mind, it is nice to have some quiet once in a while.

But right now, with everyone asleep except for the Gryffindor at his side, her thoughts are so loud it’s like she’s screaming at him.

So here he is, wishing he could fall asleep, leave the class, maybe turn off the infernal legilimency that has haunted him his whole life.

(His parents and Marvolo insist it’s a gift handed down from Slytherin himself, just like the Parseltongue Ominis despises. It is not. It is a curse.)

He is stuck listening to her.

It doesn’t help that she seems to have caught on to him - something he had managed to avoid until now. Nobody else, not even Sebastian or Anne, has ever suspected a thing. But, in all fairness, those two are extremely loud and say every single thought that passes through their minds out loud even when they should remain quiet, and nobody else has had the opportunity to spend enough time with Ominis to begin to suspect anything.

Until her.

He had to go and let that blasted girl worm her way into his life, not leaving him alone ever, always looking for excuses to talk and ask his opinion, and being so intelligent that he wanted to invite her to study with him and talk with him and…

Since it happened a few nights ago, he hasn’t stopped cursing himself for that stupid offhand comment he made. They had been studying in silence in the library together, by the history books where nobody else ever ventures (thank you, Professor Binns), and he could have sworn that she asked him if he was finally going to walk her back to her common room (he blames a lack of sleep and wishful thinking for this mishap). His traitorous face had flushed and he had jumped at the chance to escort her - maybe she would let him carry her bag, or… - only to feel his whole body go cold and his stomach drop when her response wasn’t what he’d expected.

A pause: then: a confused voice: ‘Ominis, I didn’t say anything.’

His Gryffindor wasn’t stupid like Gryffindors were normally wont to be. He knew her, and he knew that after his monumental mistake, the gears in her brain were turning and he was terrified that somehow she had figured it out.

(His Gryffindor?)

She had been unusually quiet around him since then, although he bitterly noticed that she was still acting normally with everyone else. Still finding every opportunity to punch Sebastian in the shoulder and laugh with Anne, still whispering with Natsai about Merlin knows what, still…

But she had been avoiding Ominis. He couldn’t stand it.

Well, avoiding him right until this stupid class, when she had to go and sit right next to him (ignoring the fact that she always sits next to him in History of Magic, that everyone already has and adheres to their unofficial seats), and he can’t ignore her.

She’s pretending to take studious notes, but he knows better. The scratching of her quill blending with the droning of Professor Binns’ voice but not drowning out her thoughts. They float above the other noises, her voice sweet and piercing. Ominis wonders vaguely what she’s actually writing, because he’s positive it isn’t notes.

Professor Binns looks so sexy right now with his medieval hat, talking about…whatever it is he’s passionate about. I wonder if he would let me talk to him after class without floating through me like he normally does…

Ominis is determined not to react. She’s obviously trying to bait him. But…what if she is attracted to Professor Binns? Is he an attractive man? At the thought, the fist that’s resting on top of his desk clenches, but he works to make sure his face remains impassive. Apart from a twitch of his lips, he thinks he’s been quite successful.

She: huffing and shifting in her chair, her robes rustling as she crosses her legs. He: keeping his head facing forward, steadfastly ignoring her.

She changes tactics.

Maybe she’s just as insufferable as the other Gryffindors, after all.

I wonder what Ominis would say if he knew I woke up moaning today after a dream about him -

He shifts slightly in his seat, hoping that she’s so busy taking notes (who’s he kidding) that she won’t notice his discomfort as his trousers tighten -

…the girls in my dorm have been bothering me nonstop about who I’ve been mooning over but I don’t want them to…

His hand is in such a tight fist it’s a wonder he’s not breaking any fingers as he tries to remain as still as possible, but his traitorous arousal is making her thoughts harder and harder to ignore. Had he ever been able to ignore her?

…his tongue was deep inside me as I screamed his name…

He feels his face heat up at the thought - where had she learned such vulgar language? - and his whole body stiffens. He’s sure that she can feel the tension and warmth radiating off of him in waves but that…she…his insane little lion keeps shouting at him in the silence of the classroom. She’s now stopped all pretense of taking notes and is sitting stock still.

…his cock deep inside of me as…wait…what else did I hear Garreth say to Leander that night?…um… She shifts uncomfortably, her knee grazing Ominis’s as she moves to squeeze her legs together. It’s all he can do to not groan and remain impassive. Oh god…I…what’s that feeling? This was just supposed to get back at him for probably - maybe - reading my thoughts and I’m officially insane because how would he even be able to do that?…his ears turning red from embarrassment are so adorable and I can’t stand this anymore and…

Ominis tries his hardest not to move his head in her direction. His jaw flexes. Maybe he can drown her out if he starts reciting potions ingredients, or if he focuses on what Professor Binns is saying, but even he knows its futile. He’s hanging on to her every word - thought? - and his head slowly turns in her direction as she keeps going.

…does he know how much I think about him? Oh god, what if he dreams of me the same way I…

He slams the open book in front of him shut, the loud noise causing Sebastian to jerk awake and babble incoherently for a moment before slumping back over his desk, drooling and snoring lightly. Nobody else in the class seems to notice except her of course. Blissfully, she has stopped talking - thinking - and he can finally -

It’s no use. He needs to get out of there. She has invaded his mind and…What if she starts up again with her filthy thoughts that are bleeding into his own and -

Did he hear me? I didn’t actually think…oh god, can he hear me now? What have I done?

Ominis very slowly brings his hand over to where he knows hers is. The quill falls out of her hand and he hears a sharp intake of breath at their contact. His fingers trace her knuckles and then he slowly trails them up her arm. His fingertips are so sensitive that he could swear that he feels every thread that he passes, her skin warm and alive underneath the fabric. Then to her neck, her throat bobs and he feels her erratic heartbeat. Finally, he reaches her face. She remains very, very still as his fingers brush over her features for the first time.

He has never touched someone like this before.

Her skin is like velvet, soft everywhere he touches. Now that he knows what it feels like he’s not sure he can go back to before. His fingers trace the curve of her eyebrows - he finds that her nose is straight before it flares up a tiny bit at the tip - his fingers ghost over her impossibly soft lips. He drags his thumb across her bottom lip as her tongue darts out to wet them. It’s impossibly intimate and the world has melted away and it’s just the two of them in that moment.

He leans forward.

“Ominis, I…” she whispers, stricken.

His hand moves to tuck some of her loose hair away from her face - does she always wear it like this? - and his lips brush against her ear. He inhales deeply, her sweet smell invading his senses. She shivers under his touch and he breathes, “I heard everything.”

[hanshenrykcd]

sooo... i'm a mess ˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖

part 2

[mega-banette]

Now I 100% could be misreading this but I do love that it’s sort of implied that both Fox and Ajax accepted Mercy as a warrior despite not being present when she was officially initiated

[ID 1: ‘Mercy and Ajax make eye contact as they fight’]

[ID 2: ‘Fox Turns to Mercy’ FOX: …GET THEM HOME ALIVE MERCY: FOX?]

[glasseels]

headcanons about henry’s queerness based on how I interpret his character:

henry winter is the type of guy to have jerked off to saint sebastian when he was going through puberty like yukio mishima did and not ascribe any deeper meaning to the fact that he’s a man because he’s really pretentious so what’s hot about it is“the artistry of it”

and he never actually does anything with a guy until he goes to college and gets more interested in greek and he’s weirdly attracted to julian but that takes a while to develop into anything. so meanwhile he’s getting more interested in the sex lives of ancient greek men (in the way an anthropologist does) so he decides to drive off to a gay bar somewhere without telling anyone and fucks a stranger in a way that is genuinely (and kind of disturbingly) research adjacent

but when he gets back to his dorm afterwards and he’s warmly greeted by bunny innocently asking where he’d gone, he makes up a lie like it’s nothing and bunny buys it (obviously). but instead of worrying about hiding it, henry, the freak that he is, gets some sort of sick satisfaction out of the fact that his roommate (the most homophobic guy alive) doesn’t know that the guy he’s closest to fucks dudes

yeah

extra thoughts on henry’s sexuality/love life:

- he wasn’t especially into francis or charles but he liked getting with them at the bacchanal because what was hot about it was the ritual of it all (and the fact they were all high)

- on that note, that was the only time he ever did anything with either of them (did not partake in passing francis around like a blunt)

- he was genuinely in love with camilla (and bunny too in a strange way he never completely unpacked)

- he was in love with julian too but the way he reacted to everything broke his heart so his feelings for him turned into a calm sort of resentment that he wanted to run away from

- richard was in love with henry in his own weird repressed way but henry’s feelings for richard were a lot more casual

[justaz]

had a vision from god when i woke this morning of merlin and arthur in balinor's cave and it was set in my au i talked about an eternity ago of merlin not knowing that balinor was his father and arthur being awake as they questioned him so both merlin and arthur knew that balinor was merlin's father which made merlin the next dragonlord. anyways merlin is like "help camelot?" and balinor is like "no. let em burn." and merlin is like "but...life!" and balinor is like "no. i had a family before all this. a brother. a sister. parents. nieces and nephews. a wife. a daughter. uther took it all. let kilgharrah take it all from him."

and merlin is like "a daughter? like...my sister?" and then has to step outside for a moment. arthur follows him and sits with him like "i'm sorry :(" all guilty bc baby boy takes on the weight of his father's sins and merlin is just like >:( about the situation, not necessarily at arthur. arthur thinks its at arthur. arthur tries to tell merlin to stay with balinor because a) if merlin stays out of camelot then uther can't kill him and b) merlin probably doesn't want to help anyways so arthur can't possible ask him to-

merlin slaps arthur's arm and scowls at him before going "don't be stupid, idiot." and then goes back to the cave with arthur in tow and asks his father once more to help. balinor refuses. merlin tears him a new one. i won't put everything merlin says here but it essentially boils down to "fighting fire with fire only makes the flames burn brighter. you're perpetuating the cycle of violence rather than changing anything. you're just like uther." and then storms out, telling his father to rot in his cave, alone and hunted like an animal, while merlin actually does something to help.

balinor and arthur stand there for a moment, stunned. just as arthur is leaving, balinor calls out to him. he hands arthur the ambrosius family sigil and is like "give this to him." its been dirtied from years on the run and balinor has to explain that the dragonlord families were once nobility. arthur looks at balinor and is like "you'd trust me with this?" knowing balinor's hate for uther. balinor stares back for a moment, griefstriken for a long lost friend and murmurs "you look just like your mother...i pray you have her heart and not his" and his words strike like a killing blow to arthur who stumbles out after merlin all the way back to camelot to deal with the dragon

[pinkpastels113]

that friends do

pairing: gelphie

rating: t

word count: 1.2k

summary:

In which Elphaba is confused on whether or not she and Galinda are actually doing things that "friends" do together.

a/n: from this tumblr post and thanks to @shikariix for choosing this idea to be written out first teehee

excerpt:

There are many things that Elphaba and Galinda would do together that the latter would chart up to (or dismiss as) “things that normal friends do.” And whenever Elphaba would raise a dubious eyebrow to take a second and question it (as she does many things), Galinda would just hastily tack on the “that best friends do, together” with that dimpled smile, as if she knows exactly what to say to alleviate her concern. Like hand holding. All the way up to their conjoined elbows. And waiting for each other to get ready for class. Even if it takes two hours for Galinda to curl her beautiful hair. And staying up till late in Elphaba’s bed while she reads and Galinda files her nails (or whatever else she does to fuss over her appearance as part of her nighttime routine) that always ends up with Galinda lying dramatically over her knees lamenting about how bored she is, with that conspicuous look in her eyes that silently requests Elphaba to converse with her until she feels sleepy and satisfied.

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