#I might write a fic based off the first scenario

[omegaling]

Hellcheer Headcanons: Where Everyone Lives and No One is Sad

Chrissy really, really does not want to go to prom and be put on the pedestal of Hawkins High Prom Queen like she knows she will be, but her mother’s already bought (and altered) her dress, and Jason has the limo lined up, so she’s trapped into going.

Jason is absolutely the kind of ignoramus who would propose to Chrissy at prom in front of their entire graduating class. Chrissy is too stunned to speak for a whole moment, then responds with a quiet “I have to think” before walking off the stage and out of the gym.

The Hellfire Club is having a session during prom, mostly as a way to help Eddie get his mind off Chrissy. They are nearing the end of their latest campaign, where their party has at last saved the princess who was put under an enchanted sleep by a wicked sorcerer-king who wanted to keep her for himself instead of allowing her to marry her true love, a woodsman who lived in the dark forest. Just as the princess wakes up, Chrissy walks through the front door, still in her prom dress and makeup streaking down her face. Eddie’s back is to her when she walks in, but all the others see her and fall into stunned silence. When Eddie finally realizes they’re reacting to something other than the campaign, he turns around to see Chrissy, and after that nothing else matters except for each other.

They keep their relationship quiet until Jason leaves for college and they don’t have to worry about him or his friends harassing Eddie for “stealing his girl.”

Chrissy’s mom kicks her out of the house for her refusal to go to college with Jason and turning down her cheerleading scholarship. It was only meant to be a scare tactic, but Chrissy never returns. She still keeps in contact with her brother regularly and her father on occasions, but all ties with her mother are gradually broken until she cuts her out of her life altogether.

After they graduate Eddie and Chrissy immediately jump in his van and take off for a two-month long road trip. They don’t have a plan, and the only way anyone knows where they’ve been is the postcards they send to Wayne and their friends.

When they return from their road trip Eddie and Chrissy take classes at the local community college. It’s not as glamorous as going to a university, but this is the first time in her life that she’s been allowed to do things at her own pace, so she’s going to take the time to figure herself out before she even thinks about planning the rest of her life.

College is not for Eddie. He only finishes a few semesters (kind of) before dropping out. Before he does, he takes a few courses on creative writing to help strengthen his story telling for his campaigns.

Chrissy discovers for herself that despite the pressure put on her by her mother, she does genuinely enjoy dancing, and puts her focus towards being a dance instructor one day.

It takes Chrissy longer to recover from her eating disorders than she anticipated, which becomes a source of shame and frustration for her. Eddie absolutely understands that recovery can take years, and that regressions can happen at any time, even if it’s been years since the last one. He knows the best he can do is just be there for her during the bad times, talking when she needs it, being a silent support system when she doesn’t. He never gives unsolicited advice or opinions; he just holds her and reassures her that he’s there, that she’s not broken or damaged, and that he loves her no matter what until she comes back out of it.

Eddie loves foreplay with Chrissy more than the actual sex because of all the different sounds he can get her to make.

Chrissy enjoys brushing his hair.

Eddie is the better cook of the two, which comes as a surprise to them both.

In the beginning of their relationship, listening to Eddie talk about his campaigns is like listening to someone speaking a foreign language, but it’s important to him so Chrissy always gives him her full attention. He’s also adorable when he gets this excited over slaying the undead.

One day, she helps him fix a plot hole that’s been plaguing him for weeks, and from that time on she begins showing more of an interest in Dungeons and Dragons and how it works. Eddie can barely contain himself when she asks him to help her roll her first ever character: an elf druid.

Chrissy sits in on a few games before she gets up the courage to ask if she can join. The first time she’s at a Hellfire meeting the others are a little leary about her hanging around, but they don’t dare mention it in Eddie’s presence. Soon, though, they not only don’t mind her being there, but start to enjoy her company as well. When she’s finally ready to join, all the guys and Erica make a big show of accepting her character into her ranks. At one time Chrissy would have been embarrassed at being put at the center of attention like that, but these are her friends who accept her no matter what, and she loves them all for it.

Eddie knows that his music is not Chrissy’s favorite, and lets her know he doesn’t expect her to come to every single gig if she doesn’t want to, or simply doesn’t feel like it. She still comes to as many as she can, if only to see him get giddy when he spots her in the crowd from the stage.

Wayne adores Chrissy but he’s not always great at showing it. Her first impression of him when she comes to live with Eddie after her mom kicks her out isn’t the best, since he blatantly tells them both “this trailer ain't big enough for the three of us and a baby.” Chrissy can’t tell if he’s insinuating that she may already be pregnant, but she can’t really blame him for assuming, given her situation. Eddie, on the other hand, almost dies of embarrassment on the spot.

Eddie and Chrissy have their wedding ceremony and reception in Wheeler’s back yard. It’s small with only their closest friends, but it’s perfect.

Chrissy does invite her brother and father. Her brother comes, her father doesn’t.

Dustin is Eddie’s best man at their wedding, and Max is Chrissy’s maid of honor.

Dustin custom-makes Eddie’s cufflinks out of a pair of D20 dice.

Chrissy and the bride’s maids are all pink, green and yellow at the wedding, while Eddie and the groom’s men are black and red. It clashes horribly, but it’s them, and no one can criticize them for it.

Wayne’s speech at their wedding lasts less than a minute. At the end, he tells them that he got them something that better expresses how much he loves them more than his words can. He hands them the keys to the house he bought them.

Chrissy eventually opens her own dance studio in Hawkins. Everyone is welcome, but she is especially protective over the little girls who are easy targets for their weight and appearance. She has an absolutely zero-bullying policy, and that goes for the kids and their parents, and everyone knows it.

Eddie starts writing his own fantasy novels, but only after Chrissy insists yes, he is absolutely a talented writer who can easily create something that is on par with Lord of the Rings. He teases her that that doesn't give him a lot of hope since she’s never actually read the books, but he is encouraged because of the faith she has in him.

He goes with Chrissy to every prenatal and postnatal doctor’s appointment. Every. Single. One. At first the other mothers are put off by his presence in the waiting room, but that soon turns to envy over Chrissy as they wish their husbands showed half the support as hers.

One of their daughters is a girlie-girl who loves Barbies, tea parties and the color pink. The other is a total tomboy who always has grass stains on her knees and leaves in her hair. Despite their differences, they usually get along very well. Their older daughter doesn’t mind playing with dolls with her baby sister, and their younger daughter will absolutely get into a mud-slinging fight to protect her sister’s honor against the school boys who tease her for being different.

Eddie uses Dungeons and Dragons to help his girls learn math.

Everything’s an adventure for the Munsons: grocery shopping, chores, road trips, snow days. It never matters how mundane a task is. Eddie never fails to make everything he does with his family as fun for everyone as possible.

Movie nights with blanket forts, lots of popcorn and candy.

Family-themed Halloween costumes.

Dustin is their kids’ favorite uncle.

Jonathan and Nancy are their childrens’ godparents.

Their house becomes the “safe” house for their girls’ friends as they get older, where they can go to get away from bullies, toxic family members, and society pressures.

[monzabee]

bad idea right? – ln4

masterlist

Summary: The one where seeing Lando tonight is a bad idea, right?

Pairing: lando norris x ricciardo!reader

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: mentions of breakups and also fighting, cursing, kind of a toxic relationship?, allusion to smut, it's criminal how long it took me to finish this fic

Request: this wasn’t requested, but the idea is veeery loosely from this tiktok right here! (i might def write the scenario in the tiktok in the future though)

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! it has officially been a month since i started my master's programme and i have to say it is absolutely kicking my ass, but thank you all for bearing with me while i adjust! this song has been stuck in my head for the last two-three (?) months and i really wanted to write a fic based on it. i also wanted to say that i've received all of your guys' requests, and i'm working on those, but it's harder for me to get out a request than a fic that just popped in my head because i tend to be more of a perfectionist with those - so, those are definitely on the way, don't worry! i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

It’s not that you don’t like spending time with your brother and his girlfriend – because you do, but considering the fact that spending a mere hour with them causes you to suddenly question your life choices (of being single), you are very eager to leave them alone for the night. Which brings us to the current situation, with you standing in front of your brother’s apartment complex in one of the hoodies you stole from the sample boxes, waiting for someone you should’ve never hit up in the first place. It was probably not your brightest idea to message Lando to ask him if he wants to go for a ride, especially because a) the last time you saw him a year ago the two of you were yelling and throwing things at each other and b) you’re definitely buzzed from the bottle of wine you hogged upstairs. But you know what they say; absence makes the heart go fonder, right?

So there you are with your phone in your hand, texting Lily in hopes of getting the tiniest bit of reassurance about your decision.

To lily m: i texted lando To lily m: he’s gonna pick me up From lily m: WHAT? NO To lily m: seeing him tonight To lily m: it’s a bad idea, right? From lily m: YES From lily m: DO NOT GET INTO THAT CAR To lily m: yes i know that he’s my ex, but can’t two people reconnect?

Fuck it, it’s fine, you decide as you quickly delete the last two messages. With a soft sigh, you wrap your arms around yourself to shield yourself from the cold air of the night. And while you could just wait for Lando inside the apartment building, you really don’t want to attract more attention to yourself. You can feel yourself getting more and more nervous as the minutes pass by, and you even contemplate cancelling the whole thing and going upstairs to sleep. Just as you’re about to give up on the whole thing, a car honk grabs your attention. When turn to look at the source of the sound, you see Lando’s unamused face through the open window.

He motions you to get in with his head, his voice as equally detached as he calls out, “Get in.”

Rolling your eyes at his behaviour, you do as your told. But you tell yourself that it’s not because he told you to, but because you’re cold. And so you get in the car making sure you slam the door as hard as you can, which makes him scowl as a small smile forms on your lips. “You know, you could really try on being more polite.”

“I’m picking you up in the middle of the night,” he points out as he puts the car on drive and starts driving off, “and put your damn seatbelt on.”

You give him a sideway glance as you put on your seatbelt, letting out a sigh, “Are you okay? I’m sensing some serious undertone.”  

Lando doesn’t answer you, mainly because he is smarter than he looks and he knows you’re trying to goad him into another fight. That’s what the two of you had always done, not that he hated you or vice versa, but the two of you mainly got along in fights which ended up in both of you twisted between the sheets of the whatever hotel you were currently staying in. And it had worked for a while, until of course it didn’t, and Lando was mature enough to admit that he had a huge role in fucking up your relationship.

“You changed your car,” you point out.

“Thought you’d appreciate a roof over your head this time,” he replies.

The car is silent as Lando drives down the now empty streets of Monte Carlo, and you find yourself involuntarily checking out his side profile because well, he always looked so good while driving. You suppose it’s only one of the things that didn’t change with time.

“So,” his voice draws you out from your thoughts, “why’d you call me tonight? Are you drunk?”

“I am not drunk,” you scoff, crossing your arms across your chest, “if you don’t feel like being here Lando, I can just get off and go home.”

“Now I didn’t say that, I simply asked a question.” He steals another glance at you, but this time a little smirk forms on his lips when your eyes meet and he sees your scowl. “It was a harmless question, really.”

Your voice comes off as clipped as you answer, “I’m not drunk.”

“Your cheeks are red,” Lando points out but the playfulness from mere seconds ago is gone, in fact, he’s more serious than you’ve probably ever seen him, “you either had wine or your rosacea is acting up.”

It takes a moment for you to take in his words, and there is no humour in his voice or on his face when you look at him to see whether he’s joking or not. “I had some wine,” you confess, voice much lower than before as you add, “but I’m not drunk.” One of his eyebrows rise up, and you find yourself mumbling, “Fine maybe a little bit, but not a lot.”

His jaw ticks as he mumbles, “Okay, whatever you say.” And as you try to assess whether his voice is cold or not, you see his hands tightening around the steering wheel.

“What?” You ask, a bit quicker than necessary (in your opinion), “What did I say?”

Now it’s his turn for his voice to be clipped, and his eyebrows furrow as he asks, “Did you only call me because you’re drunk?”

“No,” your reply is truthful to some extent, you suppose, you would’ve texted him even if you had no alcohol in your system. “I wanted to see you.”

He lets out a hum, “Why?”

It’s a hard question, and you contemplate not being a hundred percent honest – but deep down you know he deserves better, even if you had your differences. So, to reveal the truth, you turn your face away from him to look outside the window, “I missed you.”

He doesn’t say anything, and you don’t turn to see what his reaction will be. Everything is peaceful for a moment.

He takes you to a hill, the very one he took you for your first date. Though, it doesn’t carry the same excitement this time around. The two of you remain in the car with the windows rolled down, but the colder air doesn’t make you chilly. It’s silent, but it’s not an uncomfortable one. Neither of you make the first move to start a conversation, and you don’t know if that’s because you’re both obstinate or he doesn’t want to be there. Though, you suspect he would’ve told you ‘no’ if he didn’t want to be there – not that he could ever tell you ‘no’.

It's unnaturally hard, you realise, not looking at him on purpose when he’s seated so close to you. Especially because you haven’t seen him in months. Not that you’d confess that to him, or let yourself have another weak moment where you say you missed him. Because you can’t. Because it’s not the way the two of you operate. Because he broke your heart but you’re not strong enough to let him go. With that last thought, you take a sharp breath, undo your seatbelt and get out of the car. You lean against the hood of the car and he soon follows suit. But where your hands are splayed behind your back, his arms are crossed over his chest.

“You’ve not been sleeping.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement. Because he is not dumb (or blind enough) to let the circles under your eyes slide.

And it’s a statement that might be true. You only give him half of a shrug, “So?”

“It means that something is bothering you.” You’re about to object, but he quickly shuts you down, “I once drove you around for four hours so you could sleep in my car, honey,” his fingers move to gently turn your chin towards him so he can look into your eyes, “and that was because you forgot to bring me back junk food from Australia.”

Even if you’re taken aback by his physical touch, you don’t show it as you stubbornly maintain your eye contact. “It’s the jet lag, I haven’t travelled in a while.” You gulp down a breath as you gently push his hand away, “And don’t call me that.”

“Why?” He turns his body to face you, “You’re just as sweet, aren’t you?”

“Lando,” you warn him, “don’t.”

He raises a brow, “Why not?”

“Because we’re friends,” your response comes off in an instant, “I only see you as a friend.” The biggest lie you’ve ever said.

“Friends,” he repeats, tests out the word, then shrugs, “sure. Now tell me what happened tonight that made you call me. Did you and Daniel fight?”

“What?” an involuntary laugh leaves your lips, and you catch the corner of his lips turning upwards just the smallest bit. “No, we didn’t, it’s not about Daniel. Can we just not talk about it, please?”

He gives you a firm nod, and you catch his grimace as he turns his attention back to the view in front of you. “You can tell me, you know,” he mumbles, “you used to.”

He’s right, you realise. You used to tell him all the little thought that popped into your head, whether it was nice or not, and he’d accommodated your thoughts. It was easier to talk to him, once upon a time, and you’re not really sure why it hurts so much right now that you can’t.

“Why do you care?” The question comes out quickly, and your voice is not as strong as you’d like it to be. “After everything, why do you care?”

“We’re friends, right?” The words tastes unbelievably sour in his mouth, and he has to restrain himself from making any sort of face, but it seems harder than it actually is for him to do and he questions whether it is worth it to

“Friends,” this time it’s your turn to test out the word, and it tastes as bitter as they come, “sure, can we ride around a bit more?”

“Fine,” he gives you a nod and motions you to get in the car, “but I have to get gas first.”

The fluorescent lighting of the gas station is definitely not the most flattering thing. So much so that you’re sure the unflattering light outside is exaggerating the bags under your eyes. But that situation of course doesn’t apply to Lando because even under the harsh lighting, he looks too pretty. And compared to earlier in the night, you don’t try to hide the way your eyes focus on him while he’s driving, though you hope you do a much better job at hiding the thoughts that come to your mind. Even after he’s parked the car in the nearest pump, you find yourself staring at his side profile a bit too long, which earns you a sideway smirk and you try your hardest not to react, but the smile you keep trying to fight is too strong and eventually you find yourself with the tiniest smile playing on your lips.

Lando turns towards you, meets your eyes and leans over the console, “Do you want anything from the shop?”

You blink once, trying to come up with anything, twice, then “Can you get me those gummy bears that I like?”

He gives you another nod, reaches into his pocket and then hand you his phone. Ignoring your questioning stare, he explains, “So that you can play music or something, the password is still the same.” Before he gets out of the car, he does the unexpected and leans in just a little bit more to press a feather-light kiss to your temple.

You watch him get out of the car and walk away from you with your mouth slightly hanging open. You contemplate trying to unlock the phone, because why would he tell you that his password is the same? And why would he trust you with his phone when the two of you have been broken up for over a year? With shaky hands, your fingers put in the password, calling Lando’s bluff. Oh shit, you think when the phone unlocks, now what? Throwing the phone out of your hands onto the driver seat, you grab your own and quickly type a new message to Kika, who of course got the news from Lily and has been blowing up your phone, while ignoring her dozen other messages who went unread in your text thread.

To kika: this was a bad idea kika Tokika: a very *very* bad idea From kika: please tell me you’re going home To kika: um… To kika: sure From kika: GET OUT OF THAT CAR AND GET YOUR ASS HOME From kika: NOW!!

Chewing on your lower lip, your eyes linger on the messages spamming your phone, and you contemplate just getting out of the car and trying to find your way back home. But you also can’t help yourself but think… what’s the worst that could happen if you stayed? Clicking the button on the side of your phone, you place it face down on your lap after making sure you silence it for the rest of the night. With the reminder of the abandoned phone on the seat next to yours, you open your window to let some of the night air in. As your phone keeps buzzing on your lap, your eyes focus on the figure that comes out of the convenience store – and by some grace of God, he doesn’t realise the way your eyes basically undress him as he approaches his McLaren.

There’s no smile on his face, in fact, if you didn’t know Lando, you’d say he looks like an asshole; not that he occasionally doesn’t act like one. He gives you that boyish smirk when he’s next to your window, signalling you to roll it down by tapping on it twice. Lando leans against the car, his eyes locked onto yours. “Got your gummy bears,” he says, holding up the package and handing it to you once you roll it down. “It was the last one too, you’re lucky.”

Giving a tight lipped smile to the man looking expectantly at you, you accept the packet of gummy bears. “Thank you, Lando,” the softening look in his eyes is, ironically, strong enough for you to choke on the next words that are on the tip of your tongue. “I–”

“I’m sorry to bother you, are you Lando Norris?” A third voice interrupts you, and you find yourself moving your gaze from Lando to the woman who’s excitedly waiting for a response.

“Yes,” he breathes out, and you can tell he’s trying to keep his voice polite but he’s also very annoyed at the same time – though the way he eyes up the stranger definitely makes your blood boil.

With his attention on the woman, you find yourself feel the tension in the air and quickly look down at the packet of gummy bears in your hands. You start absentmindedly picking at the wrapper, your mind racing with a mixture of emotions. As the conversation between Lando and the fan continues, you steal glances at them from the corner of your eye. She's gushing about a recent race, talking animatedly about the thrilling moments she witnessed. Lando, for his part, is gracious and engaged, taking the time to listen and respond. And despite the polite exchange, you can't help but feel a pang of jealousy. It's a reminder of the world he's a part of, a world where fans approach him with admiration and excitement. A world you used to share, but now only observe from the sidelines.

You watch the woman place her hand on Lando’s bicep, laughing at a (rather mediocre) joke he made about the understeer of the car. It’s not a funny joke by any means, and you are not scared to admit that the woman’s laugh that fills your ears makes your insides twist uncomfortably. You remind yourself that you're here by choice. You could have left at any moment. But there's something about this night, about being with Lando again, that you can't quite let go of. It's a confusing mix of nostalgia and longing, wrapped in a blanket of uncertainty.

The woman’s voice hits your ears as you hear her ask, “Do you want to come back to my place?”

Without letting them both know that you’re actively listening into their conversation, you attempt to subtly let out a warning cough, but Lando covertly smirks as he leans towards the car with his hand grabbing the lowered window – without caring about the possible finger prints he might leave behind, might you add. Without any hesitation, you let your fingers go of the packaging to thread your fingers with his.

While his thumb gently starts to draw circles on the knuckle of your thumb, he does his best to supress the chuckle building up in his throat. “That’s, um, very kind – but I’m with my girl, you see, and we are both pretty tired.”

Maybe you would’ve given her a friendly smile over a misunderstanding if you were in a better mood, but as the woman looks at you with wild eyes, all you can offer her is an annoyed pout, and soon after she leaves after apologising to you both for interrupting your plans. You watch her leave until there is a good enough distance for her to not hear you, and then turn to Lando and give him a glare as you hiss, “I am not ‘your girl’.”

He finally lets out the chuckle he’s been holding as he watches you letting go of his hand with an exaggerated push, and then diverts his amused eyes towards you, “Sure, whatever you say, jealous girl.”

“I am not– I wasn’t jealous!” you exclaim, eyes narrowed. When he starts walking towards the driver’s side, you can’t help but call out, “I’m not jealous!”

Lando is still chuckling to himself when he gets in the car, and even as he starts driving, completely ignoring your whining complaints. “That’s alright, honey,” he says, voice full of condescension, “it was very cute.”

“You are an ass.” You roll your eyes as you cross your arms across your chest. “Maybe I should’ve gotten off when I had the chance, that way you could’ve fucked her in the back seat.”

“Bold of you assume she’s the one I’d want to fuck in my back seat,” he raises an eyebrow, then shrugs “but sure.”

Your face scrunches up in disgust, “You’re, ugh, you’re just the worst, Lando.” Shaking your head in disbelief, you add, “I can’t believe I’m arguing with you over you fucking girls in your car.”

Lando manages to get out a disapproving tut, and then contends, “I never said I’d fuck girls in my car, I’d said I’d rather fuck you in my car.”

Completely baffled by this revelation, not that you should’ve been, you turn to him in disgust, “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” He shrugs again, noncommittally, and without paying you any mind continues to focus on the road.

“Well,” you laugh, breathlessly, “good thing that’s never happening.” Gently clearing your throat, you later can’t help yourself but add a silent, “Again.”

“If you’d rather a bed, that could also be arranged, honey.” Lando assures you, and you realise the little fucker has a smirk growing on his face.

“As if I’d sleep with you willingly,” you scoff.

A boisterous laugh is what you get from Lando, who tilts his head towards you, “Come on, I’m a good-looking bloke.”

“And I’m sure I’ve seen much hotter man,” you sing, but you just can’t remember when. So deciding to block out what Lando is rambling about, you pull out your phone to message someone who has the answer for you.

To lily m + kika: can you tell me someone who is hotter than lando? From lily m: alex From kika: pierre To lily m + kika: ew, be serious please From kika: what about the guy with the accent, from hungary? From lily m: the doctor? To lily m + kika: i think she meant the reporter From lily m: god no he was a creep From lily m: what about the surfer? From kika: oh yeah he was cute too To lily m + kika: i need someone hot, pleaseee From lily m: THE MODEL FROM MILAN From kika: WITH THE ABS From kika: and also porche From lily m: BUT ALSO THE ABS To lily m + kika: okay thanks To lily m + kika: love you guys

Getting lost in the conversation, with the aid of your ambition to prove yourself right and, naturally, Lando wrong, you don’t realise that he’s actually driven you back to his apartment instead of a bar or literally some other place that sells alcohol in that ungodly hour.

“This isn’t a bar.” You point out, eyebrows furrowed.

Lando dignifies your comment with a scoff, “Well aren’t you quite the detective?”

Crossing your arms across your chest, you basically hiss at him this time, “This is basically kidnapping.”

Lando glances at you, a playful glint in his eyes. “Kidnapping? Really? I thought we were just catching up.”

You shoot him a sarcastic look, but can't help the small smile that tugs at your lips. “Yeah, sure. Catching up in the middle of the night at your place.”

He parks the car and turns to face you, a smirk dancing on his lips. “Well, here’s my proposal. I’ll go to my apartment and you’re free to either join me or drive my car back to Daniel’s – I’ll come pick it up tomorrow.”

You hesitate for a moment, considering your options as you watch Lando give you an assuring smile and handing you the keys before getting out of the car. Going back to your brother's place doesn't sound all that appealing, and Lando's offer, as questionable and a bad idea as it may be, seems like the lesser of two evils. Though, there is also the reality that if when you go up to his apartment, you’re probably going to do something that either you or your friends will regret tomorrow morning. Watching Lando’s retreating figure move further into the apartment building, you think, fuck it, it’s fine.

So, you wait for a few minutes, anxiously twirling the car keys in your hand to make him wait – but you’re pretty sure it makes you suffer just as much. You take a deep breath, exhale slowly, and then climb out of the car. Locking it behind you, you follow Lando into the building. The familiar scent of his cologne hits you as you step into the elevator, and a wave of nostalgia washes over you. The elevator ride going up to the second floor is pure torture, and it leaves you squirming in your place the whole time. Basically throwing yourself out of the elevator once it lands on the second floor, you realise that Lando has been waiting for you, standing and smiling at his door.

He gives you a teasing look as you approach, clearly amused by your slightly dishevelled state. “Took you long enough,” he remarks, unlocking the door and holding it open for you. But instead of saying anything or retorting back, you quietly follow him inside his apartment. Lando closes the door behind you, the sound echoing through the quiet apartment. The dim lighting casts a soft glow, creating an intimate atmosphere. The first thing that catches your eye is the helmet collection he keeps in the living room. Without saying anything, you quickly make your way over to the shelves that display the helmets, trying your best to avoid his approaching footsteps behind you. The familiar design of a particular helmet has you instinctively tracing the number at the top, and the arms that hug your waist from behind makes you freeze for a moment. Lando's touch is both familiar and foreign, stirring up a mix of emotions you thought were long buried.

“That's from Monza, 2021,” he says, his voice close to your ear. The warmth of his breath sends a shiver down your spine.

You clear your throat, attempting to regain composure. “I remember,” you reply, your fingers still lingering on the helmet.

For a moment, neither of you speaks. The weight of the past and the uncertainty of the present hangs in the air. Lando breaks the silence, his voice low and measured. “I wasn't sure you'd actually come up.”

You turn to face him, meeting his gaze, but don’t attempt getting out of his arms. “I didn't think so either.”

Without breaking eye contact, he slowly leans in, his lips brushing against yours. It's a tentative touch, a testing of waters, and you find yourself responding to the familiarity of the kiss. The taste of the past lingers, and for a moment, it's as if the years haven't passed. But reality crashes back in, and you pull away, the distance now a necessary boundary. Lando looks at you, a mix of emotions playing on his face. There's longing, regret, and an unspoken acknowledgment of the complexities that bind you.

“I thought we could just catch up,” he says, his tone a mix of apology and yearning.

You turn in your place, facing him. “Catching up was never our strong suit, was it?”

“Not really,” Lando shakes his head, “no.”

You bite down on the corner of your lip, threading your fingers through his curls as you pull his face down to meet yours as you rise on your tiptoes, “It’s a bad idea, right?”

Lando lets out a supportive hum as he lets his lips softly brush against yours, “The worst.” And maybe he should have been the gentleman and pull away, but when he sees your eyes closing, he just leans in further to press his lips against yours – and the way you respond to his kiss? It's as if the world outside ceases to exist. The kiss deepens, each brush of his lips against yours reigniting a long-buried flame. Lando's hands find their way to the small of your back, pulling you closer, erasing the physical space between you.

You don’t complain as he pulls you towards his bedroom, or when he gently throws you on his bed, the anticipation hanging thick in the air. As he hovers over you, the weight of the past and the intensity of the present converge. His hands trace the contours of your face, memorizing every curve as if committing it to memory. And when the two of you get lost between each other within his sheets, the only thing that ends up coming from your mouth is either his name, or some sort of encouragement to keep him going. After he manages to wear you out, Lando decides that you’re definitely not going anywhere as he wraps you in his arms around you. The room is filled with the soft sounds of breaths syncing, hearts beating in tandem. Lando's fingers draw absent patterns on your skin while you check the messages that have accumulated in your phone. The glow of your phone illuminates the dim room, creating a subtle contrast to the warmth that envelops you. Lando's presence beside you adds an extra layer of comfort, a silent acknowledgment of the shared intimacy that unfolded moments ago.

From danny: please tell me you didn’t get kidnapped by the organ mafia From danny: wink twice if you’re alive From danny: this is not funny, where are you? From danny: fine i’ll ask alex to ask lily

Rolling  your eyes before sending him a text to let your brother know you’re okay, you decide to turn your attention to the group chat with Lily and Kika.

From kika: did you get home safe? From lily m: daniel is pretty stressed about it From lily m: please for the love of god tell us you’re home and not with lando right now To lily m + kika: omg just calm down i’m in bed To lily m + kika: and i’m going to sleep To lily m + kika: love you guys

You catch a glimpse of Lando’s grin over your shoulder as you click your phone off, but he only chuckles as he buries his face into your neck as he leaves small kisses to the skin there. “Well, I’m not lying, I just didn’t specify where I was.”

“Or in whose sheets,” his laugher gets louder as you jokingly slap him on the arm, “go to sleep, honey, we’ll be tired in the morning.”

And it might’ve been a bad idea to message him in the first place, but it certainly doesn’t feel like one.

[spaceyaceface]

Only In Dreams

Ominis Gaunt x f!Reader/MC

This fic was written based on the angst prompt the wonderful @applinsandoranges gave me!!! I had SUCH a great time writing this, thank you so so much lovely! There's definitely a lot of angst in here, but I am but a softy, and couldn't help but give it a happy ending :)

Summary: She spent her days in love with him, and her nights wishing they were together. But she knew it would never be---Ominis Gaunt had sworn off love for the sake of ending his family's legacy. She knew she wouldn't be an exception to that.

Prompt: “I’d rather sleep in all day ‘til I’m dead”

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: Angst

It hurt, being so in love with her best friend. 

It hurt even more when even sleep didn’t let her escape from it. 

She woke with a start, hand reaching up to brush over her lips, recalling the echo of his breath mingling with hers from just before she awoke. The first few times she’d had that dream she couldn’t help but shed a few tears. Now, though, she only released a shuddering breath and arose to begin her day. 

The dream was always the same. They were standing in some room—she wasn’t sure where, exactly, but that didn’t matter. All she saw was him. He smiled, and told her that he loved her. Then he leaned closer, closer—

And there it ended. 

Night after night, she lived through the same tormenting scenario, one she was absolutely certain was impossible. 

She had been in love with Ominis Gaunt since the summer after her sixth year when he came to visit her small flat in London. They had walked down the street, arm in arm under the flickering streetlights. When they had stopped on a bridge and he offered her his coat, she knew she was doomed. It had only gotten worse since then. Every innocent touch felt like fire. The rare laughs he gave when in the company of his closest friends made her stomach tumble end over end. And in the night, when she fell asleep thinking of him, he found his way into her dreams. 

Maybe they were nightmares. She didn’t know what to call them anymore. All she knew is that they were painful, showing the desires that could never be. 

Ominis had told her several times throughout their friendship that he planned on never marrying. It would be selfish of him, he insisted, dragging any undeserving person into the mess that was the Gaunts. To ask someone to bear that name—the possibility of children forced to have it—it was too much. No, he had told her. He couldn’t do that to anyone. Better not to love when he was certain it would result in nothing but continuing his family’s legacy of pain. 

Back before her feelings for him had fully come about, she had tried to argue against his stance. Ridiculous, she had told him. Why should their mistakes define whatever happiness you might find? But it was useless. When the subject came up after she had fallen like stones were tied to her feet she felt she couldn’t speak on the issue. Before, it had been for him. For his happiness. But suddenly, it felt like she was trying to convince him for her sake. 

She knew full well that she would not be an exception to his decision, as little as she cared about what the name Gaunt would mean if it ever became hers. 

As she finished dressing, she sat on her bed, closing her eyes and sighing. What she wouldn’t give to live in that dream. Where none of that mattered. Where he felt the same. Where that ache in her chest became a flame of excitement and hope. 

Just as she had every day for the past month, she walked down to the Great Hall, as if there was nothing wrong at all. 

Despite the pain of having what she wanted so near, she couldn’t help but seek out Ominis’s calming presence. She was a moth to his soothing flame, eager to hear his quiet voice as he whispered witty remarks, desperate to let her hand brush his as they walked. So when she entered the Great Hall and saw him talking to Sebastian, she smiled. 

His head tilted toward her as she approached, having long memorized the sound of her footsteps. His soft smile graced his lips. “I swear, you get here later and later every day. Soon enough you’ll be missing breakfast all together.”

She chuckled. “I’ll just have Sebastian help me nick something from the kitchens when I do.” 

Sebastian rolled his eyes. “Please. You know stealing from the kitchen is easier than anything. If you need help with that, you’re hopeless.” 

“Maybe I just wanted the company.”

“Are you suggesting Sebastian is good company?” Ominis said, smirking.

“I never said good or bad. He is entertaining, in the least.” 

Sebastian tore off part of the toast he’d been eating and threw it at her. “I don’t know why I talk to the two of you. There’s never a break from the torment.”

“Except right now,” Ominis said. “Off to Ancient Runes you go, unless you’d rather join us for History of Magic.”

He scoffed. “Never. I can’t believe the two of you still take that class. Voluntarily.” 

“It’s an interesting subject, Binns is just an awful professor,” she said.

Ominis shrugged. “I just take it for my beauty sleep.” 

“Merlin knows you need it,” Sebastian said, patting Ominis’s shoulder and starting down the hall. “I’ll see the two of you later.” 

She and Ominis began walking to class, one of the rituals they had together. She’d always enjoyed having this class with him, whether it was spent sharing not-so-quiet whispers or nodding off for a morning nap, it was always nice. 

And as she watched Ominis as he laid his head against his hand, she remembered just why she didn’t mind the nodding-off days. 

He looked so peaceful as he napped, his protected expression giving way to one of pure bliss. It always made her sad to think she saw that softness from him so rarely—it made her hate his family all the more for stealing that from him, like so much else. 

She didn’t know how long she sat, watching him sleep. She didn’t know how long it was until she dozed off herself. But suddenly, there she was, once again. 

All she could focus on was his face tilted down toward her, his hands grasping her own. The rest of the world around them was a blur—it didn’t matter. Not when he was there with her, grinning like a fool. 

“I should have told you ages ago,” he said. “I love you. More than anything.”

The words came so easily. “I love you, too.” 

He leaned forward, placing a hand on her cheek to help guide him. She would wake up any second now, she knew. She would open her eyes and—

His lips met hers. They were soft, gentle. Her head was spinning, heart pounding in her ears. She tilted her head just so—

The jostle on her shoulder catapulted her back to reality. Her breath was coming fast as she looked over at Ominis, his hand still on her arm. A quick glance around the near-empty classroom told her class had just ended. 

“Sorry to wake you, but it’s time to go,” Ominis said. 

He stood and offered his hand to her. Fighting warmth in her face, she took it, letting go quickly once she was on her feet. His brows furrowed. He seemed to have noticed the slight tremor in her hand. 

They walked down the hall, heading to their next lesson. She couldn’t look at him—not without seeing the image of him in her dream. She did her best to act normal, chatting with him softly as they went. 

But Ominis knew her too well. He stopped at the end of one of the corridors and turned toward her. “Are you alright? You’re acting… off.” 

She pressed her lips together. “I’m fine, Ominis.”

“You don’t seem fine,” he said softly, taking a step closer to her. She sucked in a sharp breath. “Did… did you have a nightmare, just now in class?”

Only he could see right through her like that. “No, not really. It was just a dream.”

“Just a dream?” He shifted his weight, shaking his head a bit. “I don’t think it qualifies as ‘just a dream’ if it’s left you in a state like this.”

“It was… it was a dream that couldn’t come true, alright?” she said softly. “I can’t explain any more than that.” 

“Maybe if you talked about it, it would help—”

“Ominis, please,” she said, voice pleading. “Drop it. I can’t talk about it.”

And drop it he did. 

He was so bloody kind. So damn respectful. It made her want to bawl her eyes out. 

The dreams only got worse in the coming days. She imagined the feeling of his lips on hers nearly every night, and then it progressed to more soft moments she had always been longing for—laying side by side in a field, hands intertwined, his arms wrapped around her as he pressed a kiss to her forehead—and then the worst of all. Ominis, standing down an aisle, soft music playing as she stepped toward him. 

That was the one that destroyed her. She woke up in tears, curling up in the corner of the bed and trying not to wake her dorm mates with her sobs. Of all the cruel things her mind could conjure up, that one stung like a knife to the heart, because there was nothing she wanted more than to devote herself completely to the man she loved so much. 

She thought about avoiding him for a while. See if it would get the dreams to stop. But each time she went someone, determined not to talk to him or look his way, there he was, a lighthouse shining out for her ship so lost at sea. He called her home to him, time after time, and she went, no matter how much it hurt. 

It was Sebastian who finally called her out for her strange behavior. She knew it had only been a matter of time. She was too anxious, too jumpy compared to normal. Shen her two friends would bicker, she would find herself lost in thought, only to be startled when one of them asked her a question. 

“What’s been going on with you?” Sebastian asked as the two of them settled on the floor of the Undercroft. “We’ve been worried. You’re not yourself.”

A million options of what to tell him ran through her head. But after just a moment or two, she finally settled on what to say—the truth. 

“I love him, Sebastian,” she admitted, voice barely above a whisper. Instinctively, she pulled her knees up to her chest, resting her head on them. “I love him so much, and I don’t…” The tears started coming, and once they began, she couldn’t stop them. Sobs worked their way up her throat, all of the aches she had built up for months finally letting loose. 

Sebastian rushed to comfort her, albeit a bit taken back by the outburst of emotion. He rubbed his hand over her back, trying to soothe her. “Hey—hey, it’s alright. You’ll be alright,” he said softly. 

She tried to regain control. It was difficult, but she focused on taking deep breaths. When Sebastian saw she had calmed down enough to talk once more, he let out a sigh. “You’re talking about Ominis?” 

She nodded, not trusting her voice. 

“Can I ask how long?” 

“Since he visited me last summer but… God, Sebastian, it’s only been getting worse.” She took a shuddering breath. “For weeks now, I’ve dreamed that he feels the same, even though I know he’ll never…” She bit her lip, eyes welling up once more. 

“A dream that couldn’t come true,” Sebastian said, sounding far off. Ominis had told him of his worries after History of Magic, of course. Now it all made sense. “I’m so sorry.” 

“I know it’ll never happen,” she said. “He made it very clear he has no intention to pursue anyone like that. I’ve accepted it.” 

She wished Sebastian could reassure her. Tell her no, you’ve got it all wrong, he’s mad for you. But they both knew their friend—that he had locked up his heart and thrown away the key, despite any and all protest from them. So Sebastian didn’t say empty words of ‘you never know’ or ‘it could work out’ or ‘you’ve still got a chance’. Instead, he looked at her with eyes full of sorrow, and offered a tight lipped smile. “Do you think it would help if you just told him?” 

“Maybe,” she admitted. “Then I could put it to rest. I could stop fooling myself that there could be a way to make things work.” She could stop dreaming about it.

Sebastian left. He promised he would find Ominis, send him down there to talk to her. She’d have a few minutes to gather her courage, to find the right words.

And then it’d be over. 

She could only hope it wouldn’t destroy their friendship—all the good they had built. She needed him, desperately, in any way she could have him. He was the anchor in her life. 

When the door to the Undercroft opened, she felt like she might suffocate. He called out her name. 

“Are you alright? Sebastian said you needed to talk, what’s going on?” His voice was on the verge of panic. It pulled at the most tender parts of her heart. In a moment, he stood in front of her, putting away his wand. “What’s happened?”

She closed her eyes, steeling herself up. “I’m fine, Ominis, I just needed to tell you something. Something I hope doesn’t ruin everything.” 

“Ruin…” His voice trailed off. “I’m… afraid I don’t follow.” 

“I love you, Ominis.” The words, the ones that she had locked away for so long, the ones she had swore to herself she would never utter, pierced the air with sudden sharpness. She watched Ominis’s expression wash away, an empty slate of utter shock overtaking it. “I love you. I… I needed you to know that. I’m sorry. I don’t expect anything from you. You’ve already told me you would never love another like this. I suppose my heart just couldn’t heed those warnings.”

He didn’t even seem to be breathing. His mouth opened slowly, as if trying to form a response, but closed again. 

She brushed her hand on his arm. “It’s ok. You don’t need to say anything. I just needed to put this all to rest. I hope…” her voice trembled. “I hope we can remain as friends.”

She left him alone in the Undercroft before she could start sobbing yet again. 

-

When Ominis entered the common room, he was an utter mess. 

Sebastian had waited up for him—he expected he would need to talk after everything happened. By the time Ominis finally came back, everyone else had gone off to bed. 

Ominis’s usually neat hair was disheveled from running his hands through it over and over again. His blazer was held bunched up in his arm, no care for the later wrinkles it was sure to have. The hand holding his wand in front of him was shaking terribly. 

“I take it she told you?” Sebastian said softly, clearly worried about the state of his friend. 

Ominis didn’t answer, dropping his coat on one of the sofas and pressing his hands to his face. 

“What happened? What did you say to her?” Sebastian asked. If this was how Ominis had fared after their conversation, he could only imagine how she was doing. 

“I didn’t say anything.” Ominis’s voice was quiet. Hollow. 

“You—hold on, she laid her heart out to you, and you didn’t say anything?” Sebastian stood,  folding his arms across his chest.

“What was I supposed to say, Sebastian?” Ominis said. “My mind went blank.”

“You tell her it’ll be alright!” Sebastian replied, anger edging its way into his voice. “You tell her that even if you don’t love her the same, you’ll still be there for her.” 

“I can’t lie to her, she’d see right through it,” Ominis said. 

“So you’re abandoning her, then?” Sebastian took a step closer to his friend. “You can’t handle knowing she cares so deeply for you, so you cut her off?”

“That’s not what I’d be lying about!” 

Ominis collapsed onto the sofa, head falling into his hands. The meaning of his words slowly sank in. 

“You love her, too?” 

His silence was enough of an answer. 

“Then why didn’t you tell her that?” Sebastian’s voice had lost all of its fury as he came to sit next to his friend. 

“How could I?” Ominis scoffed. “You know what I’ve always said. I don’t want to drag anyone into my mess of a family. I thought I could simply… not fall in love. It sounded easy enough. But she came along and…” He shook his head, sighing. “How could I ask her to be part of all of that?” 

“But you wouldn’t be,” Sebastian said. “You wouldn’t be asking her to be part of your family. You’d be asking her to be with you. I think she’s made it pretty clear she would say yes to that in a heartbeat.” 

“Sebastian, you don’t—”

“I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. You deserve to find happiness. You’ve found it in her. Your bloodline shouldn’t determine that for you.” 

“I…” Ominis pressed his lips together. “I’ll think about it.”

Sebastian sighed. “I suppose that’s the best I’m going to get.” He stood, patting his friend on the shoulder. “I’m off to bed. If you have any sense in you, you’ll tell her first thing in the morning.” 

It was a good long while later when Ominis finally entered the dorm room. Even as he laid out on his bed, sleep evaded him. When the first bit of sunlight began to warm the room, Ominis pulled himself out of his mess of sheets. 

First thing in the morning it was. 

He didn’t even know if she would be awake yet, or if she would have been out of her dorm. But he couldn’t lay in his bed a moment longer. He’d search for her, for hours if he needed to, just to feel like he was doing something. 

Funny how she was at the first place he looked. 

She’d always been fond of the boathouse. She’d told him how some nights when she couldn’t sleep, she’d sit out there to look out at the stars. It was always quiet there, just the lapping of gentle waves from the lake and a soft breeze. She was leaning against the railing of the dock, his wand told him, staring out over the water. 

“I thought you might be out here.” 

She didn’t respond, but patted the railing beside her, an invitation to join her. He put his wand away and settled where she’d indicated. He took in a deep breath through his nose, letting the fresh scent of pine carried over the lake soothe him. 

“It’s a lovely sunrise,” she said softly. 

He was sure it was. He could feel it—the growing warmth of the early morning. “I came to apologize,” he said.

“You don’t need to do that,” she said. “You can’t help if you don’t feel the same. Please don’t feel bad about it, Ominis.” 

“But I—that’s not what I’m apologizing for.” He took a deep breath, preparing himself. “I didn’t say a word last night. That was awful of me. To leave you in the dark on the thoughts running through my head. I can’t imagine what this night has been like for you, it was tormenting me, thinking of how it must have made you feel.” 

He heard a slight movement from her, an inhaling breath that told him she was about to respond. “Please,” he said, interrupting her before she could speak. “Please, let me finish. I need you to know exactly how I feel.” 

She stayed quiet. He willed himself to go on. “When you told me you loved me, I… I was afraid. You were right. I had always been determined not to fall in love, not to allow myself those feelings. But then I met you, and it made me question everything.” He felt her attention trained fully on him. “Before I knew it, I was in love with you. How could I have expected anything less? But I was still so caught up in my family, in the legacy they’ve left, how I could never ask you to be a part of it. You deserve so much better than all of it.”

He turned his head, facing toward her. “But I can’t let them loom over me forever. Not when it keeps me from what I want most. I love you. If you’ll have me, I am yours.” 

He didn’t have a chance to prepare himself for the way she threw herself on him. The way his arms wrapped tightly around her waist as he fell was pure instinct. The two of them tumbled to the pier, and he couldn’t even think to feel any pain over the sound of her joyful laughs. 

They sat up. One arm was still around her waist, and her own were thrown over his shoulders. Her nose buried itself right by the crook of his neck, the warm breath of her laughs tickling him. He couldn’t help his own laughter as it bubbled out of him. The months—years of aching, of wanting, of waiting, slipping away in an instant. 

She pulled her face back, and he could feel her eyes tracing over him. “I love you,” she said softly, smile in her voice. “I love you more than anything.”

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, and all she could think was how much better it was than her dreams.

[sweatervest-obsessed]

Spencer Reid Masterlist: Fics

In order from Newest to Oldest. Last Updated: 02/26/24

Spencer Reid Series

Key: Personal Favs:✨ Requested:🔹 Angst:🔴 Fluff:🟡 Smut:🟣

You 🔴✨ a small fic inspired by the loss of someone, and how Spencer feels about it.

Truth or Dare 🔹🔴 Request!: "okay so i'm thinking post!prison reid and reader break up bc he's not ready to be in a relationship after everything that happened in prison. they just don't get back together bc when spence is finally ready it's been a while and they both think it's too late and no one makes a move and they remain as friends UNTIL jj's love confession brings some feelings back onto the surface - reader finds out about it and (cue jeid and their weird, longing glances🥲) has a whole it's all really over moment and then there's distance between her and spencer until there's a confrontation about it and BAM a love confession and second chances😁😁"

Lucky Me 🟡 Just a cozy scenario where the reader is a wee bit drunk, and has a phenomenal idea, maybe inspired by a true story or two.

Symphonic Kisses 🟡 You give Spence a pretty damn good anniversary present.

Cold Feet 🔹🟡 Request!: "could u do Spencer Reid and childhood friends fem!reader with heavy pining and " it's always been u" at the end hurt/comfort ?"

Loving You 🔹🟡 Request!: "hiii!! congrats on the 500 followers 🤍 for your celebration, could i request 7 and 13 from the fluff prompts for spencer reid? thanks :]"

Never Let Me Go 🔹🔴 Request!: "hello !! rn i'm in the mood for some angst with a happy ending so can i request something where reader's got really bad abandonment issues? 🥹 maybe they fight over something which makes r leave ++ spence is confused bc it's so sudden n unlike them but it's all bc theyre scared he'll leave first n then it's just lots n lots of reassurance🥹🥹 thank you!!"

Unexpected Visitor 🟡 There are some things that the team does not know about, like you, for example. Some good, quick, Christmas fluff for your holiday enjoyment.

Pope and Circumstance 🔹 🟡 Request!: "Heyyyy!!!! I read that you were taking requests so I was wondering if you could write something for non BAU nerd reader and Spencer. Something sweet and comforting with a reader that’s a nerd but more on the language and literature side."

Birthday Present 🟡 You and Spencer enjoy a night in together.

New Shade of Green 🔹🔴 🟡 Request! "Hey idk if you're taking requests but I'd love to read a fic where Spencer Reid and reader are in established relationship and on a case it happens that reader's best friend since childhood assists. And Spencer gets really jealous of their close friendship but is in denial. A lot of angst but a fluffy ending."

Black Dog 🟡 Mornings with Spencer feel so good. Based on Led Zeppelin's Black Dog.

Cramps n Comfort 🔹🔴 🟡 Request! "Okay, Spencer comforting reader who has really bad period cramps and is just crying"

To Make Sure I Stay Sane 🔴 Based off of Six Below by Flipturn. What happeneds when your cover is blown? What do you do when you can never really recover from the shit you endure? pure angst.

Barbenheimer! 🔹 🟡 Request! "Reader takes Spencer to see Barbie, and he might just enjoy it more than he thinks he will."

Wired Frames 🔹 🟡 Request! "Spencer request: The team meets at a bar after they returning from a case and Spencer comes in looking dramatically different (like a nice new haircut and casual outfit and glasses) and the team / OC lose their minds"

Bad Day 🔹 🟡 Request: "spencer just comforting reader after a bad mental health day and helping them to take a break and shower/or bathe🌼🫶🏻"

Something Old, Something New 🔴 🟡 takes place during S7 Ep1, The Gang goes to court! Lawyer!Reader! Spencer is really over the senate committee, but something cools his head when he bumps into an old friend.

[crypticdesire]

some sub slasher thoughts

MINORS DNI

includes vincent sinclair, jason voorhees, bubba sawyer, michael myers, brahms heelshire, and stu macher (around 2.4k words)

a note from vern: i haven't posted any fics about slashers yet, but the recent asks about slashers on pallas's blog made me want to share some of my hcs for some of my fav slashers. it's really a jumble of some broader hcs and some specific fantasies, which ended up being longer than i intended... i think i could write at least 10 different fics based off the content in this post ^^'

ANYWAYS content warnings will be listed with each slasher so make sure you read those! mentions of reader are all gn and implied top reader. cw will state if there's a mention of the reader having specific genitalia

VINCENT SINCLAIR cw: hypno, dollification, period sex + blood (vincent being one menstruating), reader mentioned having cock

➵ vincent is always so stuck in his mind trying to create the perfect art or be the perfect brother, so he needs you to help him unwind

➵ loves taking baths with you where he can sit between your legs and have you play with his hair and his cunt

➵ he also enjoys hypno because he gets the rare chance to not think at all. he just gets to mindlessly follow your instructions, laying still as he enjoys your touch and experiences orgasm after orgasm

➵ when it’s that time of the month, vincent especially needs your help. not only is he suffering from cramps but he finds all the thoughts in his head are louder and harsher making it too easy to become frustrated with himself over the smallest things

➵ it feels so good to have your cock inside him, letting him sign what pace he wants to feel your length gliding against his walls. alleviating his pain and pushing his insistent thoughts to the edges of his mind. he’s embarrassed by the thought of messiness at first but finds that the sight of his blood coating your fingers or smeared across the bottom half of your face is its own form of art that entrances him

➵ it’s not the only new form of art you make him aware of. you show him that he himself can be beautiful art through dollification. you’re the only one that’s ever made him feel pretty and he enjoys it even more when you do it by dressing him in pretty clothes and braiding strands of his hair. you tell him he looks just as beautiful as the wax sculptures he makes and when hypno is added he can feel like one for an extended moment. it's only in a hypnotized state that he lets you pose his body in front of a mirror with his mask off, allowing him to see the way you caress your precious doll

JASON VOORHEES cw: chastity device, piss, reader mentioned having a cock, role play, mention of murder

➵ just wants to be praised. pls call him a good boy and tell him how pretty he is!!

➵ i think he’s so eager to please you that once he’s comfortable with you, he’ll practically try out any kink you introduce him to, especially ones that give you control over him

➵ he gets turned on just by the process of you guiding him through a new kink, patiently explaining why you enjoy it, what you’re doing, how it might make him feel, possible limits to establish, etc.

➵ specifically, I think about that scenario with a chastity cage. he gets so turned on by you talking about it and what you’re going to do that he gets erect before you even put the cage on him. he’d be worried he disappointed you and wouldn’t enjoy being shamed for it, so tell him how cute he is and how much you’d enjoy helping him get prepped for it

➵ i also imagine that he especially likes a chastity device with a urethra rod so he has to get permission from you to pee

➵ something he really enjoys with or without the cage is cockwarming! he loves the feeling of you inside of him and when you praise him for sitting still. he finds it especially thrilling when you’re cockwarming him out in the open having to remain still even though someone could come across you any second, his senses elevated as he becomes super aware of his surroundings

➵ another discovery he makes is that he loves engaging in role play, especially when it involves a future victim who isn’t aware they’re taking part in it. after they’re killed he is so so sensitive and wants you to tell him how well he did with the scene and how that person deserved it

➵ just constantly desperate to hear you assure him that all his actions please you!

BUBBA SAWYER cw: reader is implied to have cock/strap on, overstimulation, feminization, exhibitionism

➵ he gets so excited anytime you touch him, and when you kiss him he can’t keep his hands still or stop himself from sloppily kissing or licking your skin

➵ he never takes long to cum, and even though he easily falls into overstimulation he prefers for you to fuck him roughly and loves when you pinch his clit, spank his pussy, or leave hickeys on his inner thighs or stomach

➵ he wants you to call him your pretty girl! he gets so excited when you buy him dresses or lingerie he has to try them on immediately and have you fuck him in it

➵ you have to patiently help him build up to it, but he ends up enjoying exhibitionism! he’s frequently worried about trespassers that could be a danger to you or his family, but you help him face that fear by convincing him to let you fuck him outside in a semi open space.

➵ he wears dresses and his pretty woman face for your outside rendezvous. you shower him with compliments and praise as you always do; additionally, you tell him that if anyone did happen to see you fucking, the only thing they’d be able to think about is how jealous they were of you for being able to fuck such a pretty girl.

➵ if given the option, his favorite place outside for you to fuck him is in the back of a pickup truck, especially when you’re on your knees fucking him against the back window where he can see your reflections

➵ on days when you can tell he’s up for it you coax him to ride you. he’s so used to being submissive in different aspects of his life that it takes him a while to understand that you’re giving him control of his movements and the pace you go at

➵ you have to guide him a lot the first few times and help him find what feels the best for him. you also have to help him choose what to do with his hands because not knowing what to do with them in the beginning, he instinctively covers his masked face with them

➵ he still prefers for you to be the one in control and fucking him but occasionally wants to ride you finding that he enjoys it when he’s feeling sexy and wants to last longer, drawing out your intimate time together

MICHAEL MYERS cw: voyeurism, reader mentioned having a cock, pet play, mention of role play and masochism

➵ definitely a voyeur, watching people without them knowing being so natural for him. when he finds himself attracted to you, i can see him not only watching you masturbate for pleasure but, being inexperienced, he wants to make mental notes of what you like, and how he might touch you if he ever did

➵ in my mind, I can picture him watching the way you move your hand on your cock, and without even realizing he begins to mirror your movements with his own hand, at least the best he can with his knife as the substitute he’s unconsciously using for your dick

➵ idk i’ve always liked the idea of him doing pet play with you before he’s even comfortable enough to let you touch him. tho that is very cat coded ig

➵ it’s not hard to imagine how the idea of a bell would come up with him always lurking. like just thoughtlessly saying he needed to wear a bell when he catches you off guard one time, and then considering your words making an offhand remark that a cat collar would actually look quite cute on him. you don’t think too much about your words until you come home one day with mikey sitting on your bed with a cat collar on the bed beside him

➵ after that, the kitty comments you direct at mikey come frequently and it's not too long before you convince him to wear the cat ears you bought as well. in getting closer to you it's easier to add another layer than taking off his mask physically and metaphorically speaking. and he discovers he’s really turned on by the fact that you call him "my kitty"

➵ he’s also a silly guy though so he definitely takes off the collar sometimes so he can still surprise you. just tilting his head in that cute way when you point out it’s obvious he scared you on purpose

➵ fast forward to when he does let you touch him… i can see him, especially at first, liking when you give his unclothed cock a hand job with his overalls still on, him holding the top together so really just his cock and a bit of his happy trail are visible. I think it helps him ease into things and I also see him preferring not to have his cum on his own skin so he likes that it’s spurting onto his clothes instead

➵ some other things I think he likes but won't go into detail about are you using toys on him, role play, you playing with his tits, and him just being a general masochist!

BRAHMS HEELSHIRE cw: pet play, scent kink, piss, possessiveness, reader mentioned having cock, somnophilia

➵ really he could be summarized as a puppy boy and a brat, but let’s talk about it anyway!

➵ he has a major scent kink and being a puppy boy and a brat ofc that means he’s going to be pissing on some of your things

➵ it always happens when you’re gone - how dare you leave him alone! - sometimes it’s because he gets too carried away humping your pillow but other times it’s out of jealously

➵ oh? you bring something new home that someone ELSE gave to you? pisses on it.

➵ oh? there’s this scent of cologne that he’s never smelled on your jacket before? pisses on it.

➵ oh? you’re going to make him spend a night alone in your bed? pisses on it.

➵ i also like the idea of him putting on your undergarments when you’re not home from your bin of dirty clothes of course. he’s always struggled to look at himself in mirrors but it’s different when he can focus his attention on the way he plays with himself while wearing something of yours. he doesn’t even try to hide it, you undressing him that evening to find him still wearing your undergarments stained with his cum

➵ his actions require some form of punishment, which he only enjoys if you reward him for taking the punishment like a good boy.

➵ peeing on your things instead of his pee pad? well, you’ll just have to tie him up and make him watch you piss on it since he doesn’t know how to. it makes him so upset knowing that he could be your pee pad or urinal instead. he could have your scent on him. he only lets you tie him up because afterward, he gets to suck your cock, perhaps getting lucky enough to taste a small dribble of piss that was left in your bladder.

➵ he’s not allowed to sleep in your bed for one night? only if you let him ride you on it the next day. while he loves being roughly fucked by you, liking the thought that you can’t contain yourself, he also wants to ride you from time to time

➵ you often keep him in check making sure he doesn’t get too carried away, but when he rides you let him be as eager as he pleases. he can fuck himself on your cock at whatever pace he likes, for however long he likes, and touch you wherever he wants

➵ you have to give him permission on specific nights when he’s allowed play with your cock while you're sleeping because if not you’d wake up every morning with your cock being warmed by his mouth or his hole

STU MACHER cw: pet play, implied that you aren't exclusive, facefucking with reader implied to have cock/strap on, overstimulation, mention of stuffing + emetophilia, piss, one mention of reader who menstruates + period sex + blood, mention of drug use

➵ whew playful puppy boy that tries to hide how obsessed he is with you and how badly he wants you to be obsessed with him

➵ he doesn’t have to be the only one you play with, but if other pets are around he has to prove he’s your good boy, the best boy

➵ he’s always doing something to get some type of reaction out of you for his own amusement, constantly testing your limits when you’re alone trying to see how much he can get away with. and he likes it when you push his limits in a different way

➵ seeing how long he can let you face fuck him even when he’s gagging and tears dot the corner of his eyes

➵ seeing how long he can watch you fuck someone else without touching himself if he wants to fucked himself

➵ seeing how many times he can cum, which has to be at least until he’s overstimulated and crying

➵ seeing how much he can eat before he’s throwing up

➵ seeing how long he can hold his piss for you. though he’s not satisfied by just drinking water and holding. he only enjoys it if you’re teasing him or he’s teasing you by making it harder for himself to hold

➵ ways he likes you to tease him include edging him, straddling him and pressing on his bladder, not letting him press his legs together, making him watch you wet yourself, and pouring water onto his groin

➵ ways he likes to tease you and himself include always insisting he can drink more, showing you how many jumping jacks he can do, grinding against his puppy pad, and masturbating in front of you sometimes while on the phone with billy

➵ if you menstruate he wants to go down on you. he loves the mess and will go out of his way to make it as messy as possible

➵ he also just likes to go down on you in general. at a certain stage of being high, all he wants to do is have his head between your thighs, laying there for as long as you let him. he’ll rotate between moving his tongue against you languidly, kissing anywhere his lips can reach, and nuzzling his face into you

[guardian-angle22]

Tag Game Tuesday: 911 Lone Star Fandom Edition

Thank you for the tags! @thisbuildinghasfeelings @rmd-writes & @goldenskykaysani

When did you first start watching Lone Star? Who or what introduced you to the show?

I first started watching LS around the 2nd or 3rd episode of season 1 after seeing some adorable gifs of Owen & TK floating around on my tumblr feed.

I wish I could find out who patient zero was that first brought them to my attention from my follow list, but I think it must've been someone from the Skam fandom? maybe?

Which season is your favorite?

Season 3, baby!! and ngl, I highly doubt anything will top it at this point just based off where the plots have gone since.

Who is your favorite character? (Bonus: If you answered TK or Carlos, who is your favorite besides them?)

I mean - y'all knew what the answer would be to this one, right? Obviously Paul is my favorite. I do also really love TK. I know I have a reputation for loving Paul because I get very animated about him LOL... but I would like to put TK in my pocket and keep him safe forever, thank you.

Top five episodes. Go!

3.13

2.09

3.08

2.08

3.04

If you could pick any character to be given a "begins" episode, who would it be and what would that episode look like?

Paul. One hundred percent, I need it from Paul. I know everyone and their brother is going to or has answered Carlos for this and that tracks for a tarlos based fandom... but my unpopular opinion is that we've gotten quite a bit of character backstory for him this past season compared to some others like Nancy, Paul, and Marj. I feel like Paul has been part of the core group since the beginning but hasn't seen the amount of meaty plots as some of the others have. He's due!

What is a scenario or storyline that you would like to see in season 5?

Okay, I have two ideas for this: - an episode in which some of the characters who rarely interact are somehow trapped together due to some kind of emergency/disaster/storm and must navigate their way out together while the rest of the team helps from the outside. There are a few groupings we could use for it, but I personally would have the potential pairings be one of the following (or all three at once??): Paul & Tommy... TK & Grace... Judd & Carlos. I feel like these 3 pairings are people we don't get to see interact one-on-one often (or at all) and it would be super fun! - a true HEAT WAVE. they very briefly had that heat thing happen in 4x01 but I want a whole episode about a temperature heat wave and how first responders have to deal with them. this is TEXAS, c'mon. Plus the theme of heat throughout the episode could pop up in various character's stories. Tarlos = sexy heat. One of the firefighters = heat in the form of pressure in their job like a promotion of some kind. etc.

What do you think is going on in this still?

I have absolutely no fucking clue 😂 So I will instead direct you to this wonderful little spec fic by @littlemissmarianna As much as I hate everything to do with the Gabriel plot and tbh am not excited to see its continuation... if they manage to pull something off like that fic, I might actually enjoy some of it!

We all know about the elusive 5x05 spicy scene that has been teased, so what is your prediction for how it could possibly top 1x02?

... soooooooo I must confess something here...

*whispers* I don't actually know all about the elusive 5.05 spicy scene. someone needs to fill me in. I have not been paying attention to spoilers & speculation as much this time around since last season's speculation went so terribly for me 🤭🤣

Where was the Tarlos honeymoon in your mind?

Something about Carlos "getting homesick after a weekend in Branson" just tickles me. and the sarcastic way TK talks about the idea of Carlos wanting to travel the world also just amuses me to no end...

so this paired with the way the wedding went down, I think TK wouldn't want to make Carlos travel very far. or leave his mother so soon. I think TK wants his husband to feel as safe and comfortable as possible and so they spend a weekend at a nice spa/resort near Austin. Some place like this: Miraval Austin and then spend the rest of their honeymoon week bundled up together at home.

Shoutout one of your favorite fan creations.

for fics, I'm gonna be a little lazy here and link some of my previous themed fic rec lists:

but truly there are some wonderful fics in those lists!!! For some fanart: - this one by @whatsintheboxmh is one of my faves. ankle grab my beloved. 🥺🥰 - this one of s5 TK by @fitzherbertssmolder is so adorable! - this one of BUTTERCUP! by @greentealycheejelly is absolutely precious. - this one of Paul & Marjan!! by @heartstringsduet is amazingggg. give me all the paul fanart - this one of Grace by @yorit1 is stunning.

I'm not sure who has already done this, but I'm gonna tag some mutuals that I don't think I've seen it from yet (no pressure though!!) @lemonlyman-dotcom @herefortarlos @tkstrandreyes @three-drink-amy @littlemissmarianna @mikibwrites @alrightbuckaroo

[dawnsbreaking]

waking moments

•.❆ Dawnbreaker!Zayne x MC angst fic ❅•.❆

read on ao3

roughly 500 words

This is an attempt at writing one of Dawnbreaker's dreams about current timeline Zayne, based on the ending of Zayne's third anecdote.

I'm headcanoning (until we have more information) that the moments between waking and sleeping could be a moment where one consciousness can blur into the other?? I am seriously onto nothing I just wanted to write Dawnbreaker angst because I'm pacing around the room thinking about Zayne's anecdotes.

Zayne falls asleep on the couch, soothed by the flickering light from the screen that’s still playing the old medical drama. It’s an episode he’s seen before, one where a difficult surgery plays out until the very end. The patient almost doesn’t make it. 

In his dreams, Zayne lives this scenario almost monthly. These dreams are the most difficult. Sometimes, stressful days in the hospital give way to relaxing weekends with the girl. Sometimes, they do not. These nights where he dreams of days without her are worse than those that pass without dreams at all. 

Moments after falling asleep, Zayne becomes conscious in the other world. His mind is hazy, just waking up. He turns in bed to see that he’s laying next to the girl, tangled in her sheets and dappled with moonlight. He lifts a hand and passes it over her cool cheek. He runs his fingers through her hair.

When she blinks awake, an immediate smile comes to her face. She catches his hand and squeezes it.

“You aren’t Dr. Zayne, are you?” She whispers the question against his palm, so quickly that Zayne almost misses it. Unlike the first time she recognized him, her voice is calm and her eyes are gentle.

Zayne finds that he is in control of his own voice. “That’s right.”

It’s as terrifying as it is electrifying to no longer be a passive observer in his dreams. She can see him. He can speak to her. He searches her face for any indication of fear. Zayne is a stranger in her bed, and yet the girl continues to smile at him.

“Will you tell me who you are?”

Answering this question is more difficult. Zayne has no idea what to say. He thinks that some part of him must exist within the doctor as some part of the doctor exists within him. This could serve as a touchstone if only Zayne knew how to connect the threads for her. Finally, he opens his mouth to speak, only to realize that he no longer has control of his voice. Zayne sinks away, submitting to his former passive role.

The doctor startles. Zayne watches his hand clutch the girl’s arm.

“Zayne?” She reaches for his shoulder, pulling herself closer. “What’s wrong?”

“Another nightmare,” he mutters. The doctor pulls the girl into his chest, burying his face in her hair. His harsh breathing gradually slows. “I’m alright.”

Zayne pushes past his disappointment, desperate to enjoy the respite of his dream without thinking of what could have been. He counts the girl’s breaths, feels the doctor’s hands stroke her hair.

What might she have said if she learned the truth? Would she have pushed him away? The dream grows hazy once more, Zayne can feel it drifting away.

When he awakes, the sun has yet to rise. Zayne turns the medical drama off and runs frustrated hands through his hair.

For just a moment, he thinks, the girl was holding his hand, not the doctor’s. This thought is enough to push him through another day.

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

hi bestie do u have any ff writing advice ?? ur flow and imagery and STYLE is so so good i love it. how do u come up with such good ideas??

hi ! first of all thank you SOOOOOO much that means sm to me it genuinely makes me so happy to know that you enjoy my writing. !!

speaking of writing..it took me a while to figure out a system i was comfortable with. i'm a little all over the place in general and that translates a lot in my drafts ESPECIALLY LMFAOO if you caught one glance at my drafts it's mostly just a prompt of a few sentences and w spelling mistakes in every word cus i write them down so fast so as not to forget them LMFAOOO. but it really works for me !

i know a lot of people say it but it really works, literally just write ! it doesn't have to come out as a full beautifully crafted piece immediately, just write down anything you can and polish it up all you want later ! forcing inspiration to come to you almost always has the opposite effect, for me anyways !

for flow, i think i like to mostly write dialogue between characters out first and then write my descriptions and actions around that ! i always get more excited about writing dialogue more than descriptions (not that those can't be fun ofc !)

oh , this might help for imagery ! and idk if you've noticed but the structure of a lot of my writing is heavily based on animes and manga. like the set ups and punchlines. (massive nerd ik) like if you read some of my one shot's like this one, this one (probably one of my fav fics i've done btw) or my first born series FBRC, (especially this part) (this part was actually the one i was most excited to write, and it's heavily based off of kobayashi's dragon maid's actual good and not weird moments and soundtrack, listening to music also helps me out a lot too!)

i try to model my speech to what i think an anime episode of the scenario i thought about would look like. visualizing my writing helps me write a lot as well, if that helps ! a little fun fact for you, fujimoto's writing has influenced a lot of the way i describe situations in fics, since i really like the sorta 'childish' descriptions over super fancy ones (cus i can't write those, but i don't really like them veerry much, but a lot of them are enjoyable to read!!) i find it very endearing and it's one of the reasons why i enjoy writing childhood friends to lovers so much. it's this sorta simplistic level of thinkin that kids have if that makes sense and it works out really well if you wanna write fluffy pieces if that makes sense

some examples ! :

"he drags you around a little too hard but it's to show you something he knows you'd like and you repay him by being patient with him and letting him drag you around to his hearts content. he let’s you use the crayons he’d just denied another classmate seconds ago and when it’s really early in the morning and you’re still sleepy unlike your more energetic friend, he waits for you. sitting with you in the reading corner quietly commenting on a little bit of everything in the book you’re sharing until you’re awake enough to start the day because katsuki wanted you to be together through anything no matter what, starting the day without you was simply unimaginable."

"despite his quieter presence he always seemed to stand out to you. his bag is big enough to carry everything he needs without having to shove anything inside or leaving it half opened. he wipes his mouth with a tissue after he's done eating his lunch alone and his handwriting is pretty. his lashes are long and he's pretty."

"you hated it when people said that because the shoto you knew wasn't like that. he knew people talked about him and he hated being associated with his father. he likes the caramel you sneak in for him at school and you like the way his eyes light up when he guesses the flavour of fruit candies you make him taste. the shoto you know that ties your shoes for you and shares his umbrella with you, the one who half heartedly stomps into wet puddles with you, the one with the pretty lashes and pretty smile and pretty handwriting isn't like that."

there are a lot of other examples (im OBSESSED with this trope can you tell.) i like these sorts of simplistic childish ways of love. tiny little specks of affection that make the heart so much fonder in such little big ways..if that makes sense :>

i dunno if im just very..special, but since i have a lot of oc's and scenarios constantly flowing in my brain, most of my ideas just tend to be what i dreamed about the night before, or what i daydreamed about LMAOO. even random things that happened to me at school sorta go from "oh it would be funny if this happened to [insert character]" and then they snowball into more and more thorough ideas !

and of course as cheesy as it is the most important part is to have fun ! i cannot stress enough how important it is to be in the mindset when you're writing. it's like when people say to force yourself to draw so you don't 'lose it.' and i do think it can work to jog inspiration, but i believe that as long as you enjoy it, you'll never truly lose it. so i say, write when you feel like it and don't write if you don't, it can truly be very draining. but it's all up to what feels better for you !

anyways, i hope my insane ramblings helped you out a little bit, and have fun writing !!

much luv xxx

[howyouloveyourdragon]

alpha rhaenyra x omega dragonseed headcanons or other format if preferred. dragonseed saves rhaenyra from execution & aegon the young (where they meet for the first time) and rhaenyra decides that she needs to bring the last person with a adult dragon at the moment closer (marriage more than likely) and reward her. I would assume cannibal is the one who would be left to claim.

ooOo thank you for your request, honestly i'm really liking dragonseed reader, i also gave reader a bit of a Rhaenys moment, hope you don't mind

try not to squint too hard if you're not a book reader because I wasn't sure how to make it vague enough in some parts for both fandoms when it came to the escape. the dance takes place over a year's time where Aegon III is 9/10 to my knowledge but currently in the show where the dance is beginning he is only 4

i would be happy to write more on Aegon and reader's dynamic if you'd like but i won't be opening my requests for a little while yet so it would be quite short if i do in-between, maybe just some scenarios

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: 𝔬𝔭𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔞𝔩 𝔫𝔰𝔣𝔴 𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔫𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔰: 𝔲𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔣𝔦𝔫𝔢𝔡 (𝔦 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫к)

this got a bit long so i hope you liked it, i loved your prompt! (might base a fic on this if you don't mind? (👀)

Rhaenyra stared ahead, not yet ready to accept her fate but she would stand like the Queen she knew herself to be and hold her head high and eyes staring fiercely up at the dragon currently waiting for command

but when suddenly glass shattered and sprayed across the large hall and in the stead of her enemy's confident expression, it was fearful

her eyes trailed back to find a vaguely familiar face atop none other than the cannibal, arguably the most dangerous dragon she had ever known

her mind started circling with every question imaginable and when you glide through the sea of reinforcements who try to guard her for all the wrong reasons, she swears she has already died and is in the in-between of life and death

but in a burst of euphoria, you charge through the inhabitants of the castle and take no notice as Cannibal swallows them whole

it startles something in her as she glances about the room, unsure whether she can occupy a weapon

a blood splattered sword is before her and she clutches it quickly before joining your assault, striking the man's leg who held her youngest son, Aegon captive in his unworthy paws

she snatches him up and tries to soothe his stress

only when you are sure that you can see her do you stop and sweep down from your rampaging dragon and tug at her and Aegon, unbothered by the blood covering you all

you don't have time to allow Cannibal and Rhaenyra to acquaint themselves properly before you seize her into your arms and mount yourselves onto Cannibal, Aegon sat between you

the journey isn't what she thinks of as you soar across the sky, instead it is the awakening scent that hits her when her arms wrap tightly around your waist

"We are almost there, my Queen." You inform her anxiously but she is too busy imagining how your hair would look wrapped in her fingers to care

if she had it her way you would never land, you would stay wrapped up in her arms forever

rescuing the rightful Queen of Westeros was the most nerve-wracking experience of your life, to no one's surprise but when you land and her arms are still around you, you think this moment might be a quick second

guiding her off your dragon, your arms interlaced, you notice as her fingers linger against his pitch dark scales

"He is beautiful." She comments. "Have you named him?"

"Azantys." You answer. (Warrior) "It is only fair his name fits his title." Her brows furrow.

"How do you know High Valyrian?" You don't answer for a minute but she doesn't push you.

"I only know a few words, nothing more." She smiles at you and squeezes your hand.

"Then I shall have to teach you, sweetling."

Azantys is not fond of you leaving him but once assured that you will return, he settles

It had not been long since she set foot on Dragonstone but instead of feeling safe she felt shadowed by her failure of seizing the throne

she has to swallow this when she finally reaches her chambers after instructing her remaining men to urge you access of personal chambers of your own

all throughout the night she is haunted by guilt and pain but she does not intend to give up–no, she will not let her children's lives to have been taken in vain

she doesn't sleep that night but when day breaks she sprints to bathe away the soot, blood and dirt collected over her

after hours spent in the tub she finally dresses herself, when she hears a knock she expects to see her son

but when she calls, you appear, as haggard as she and it takes all will in her body to to run and thank you, instead she stares and takes you in for the first time

you're smiling weakly at her as you close the doors and curtsy she tosses her hand back and forth in dismissal

"None of that, sweetling." She tells you, stepping close enough to embrace your arms in either hand. she needs you to see the sincerity in her eyes. "You have saved a Queen and future King of Westeros, we are far beyond propriety."

then she lets her nose breathe you in and she realises why she is so drawn to you, she tries to smile at you but only a twitch of her upper lip occurs much to her frustration

you only soothe her, stroking a hand through her coarse white hair

you spend the rest of the day with her in her chambers, starting with brushing through her hair

she's never felt so cared for before

Rhaenyra also comes to find out that you have been caring for Aegon while she rested which makes her relieved, she knows that he is possibly the last of her kin and

by the day's end she requests you stay, it isn't nearly appropriate but she needs you, you have to see that don't you?

and so this is how your time with her continues, coaxing her into discussing with her remaining fighters and council members

she has been betrayed and beaten, she can take so much more

she looks at you one evening and it's as if it clicks into place, she finally asks the question you have been anticipating for months

before enacting upon her budding feelings for you, she will watch as you play and look after Aegon with her, she finally feels as though the gods have blessed her with a family again though the grief for her other children and husband still burns bright

"Do you...know what an omega is, darling?" Her voice is wavering and tentative. You suck in a sharp breath and nod bashfully, she finds it endearing. Her fingers carefully stroke against your cheek and she leans in close. "I suspect you are one." Her words are a carefully constructed whisper that shoot goosebumps over your skin. When she notice your lack of response and how you swallow any upcoming words, she presses a long confident kiss to your cheek and draws away from you just as easily

Your Targaryen Queen chooses to finally share her meals with you and Aegon in the dining hall, her paranoia subsiding as the person who saved

you're her protector now and she procures you as the leader of her Queensguard

however you act me as a companion than a guard and it is clear that your occupation is not all that matters to you

she slowly adjusts to her freedoms and diminishes her paranoia within your presence but only when you're with her, people have betrayed her before, she needs her loyal protector at all times

and eventually one morning she orders a meeting to be held and at the end she doesn't care that she shocks them

"You want to marry?"

"Whyever not?" She countered. "She rides one of the most valuable of our assets not to mention she saved my life. I intend to keep her favour."

"Even so, we are in a time of war, what should–"

"Precisely." Rhaenyra interrupted him. "We are in a time of war and she has pledged her allegiance to a currently losing cause. She must be rewarded." After her piercing glare, no one argues with her and she doesn't care for their whispers.

When she met with you again it was with a fierce kiss to your lips and a mixture of true and false promises

your ceremony is quicker than she would have liked but she has little choice in the matter if she wants to keep her supporters

with your darling cannibal dragon's consent, she has taken into her arms both a wife and a new Queen

if she wins the war she will decree that you rule beside her and not just as her consort but her equal, she will also fight to have you legitimised if you are a bastard

NSFW

she won't take you until your wedding night, she wants to maintain your respect and honour you

both her previous husbands died, she wouldn't be surprised if you were not entirely sure on this match

she might be a little insecure at first and hesitate but it takes little to coax her into a sense of security

she doesn't care about whether you are experienced or not, it doesn't affect her. no preference

traditionally i see Rhaenyra as a dom but in this state of circumstances i think she's a switch but the first night she lets you take the lead

her favourite position after marriage with you is literally called 'Queening' or as most people call it 'face-sitting'

it gives her that sense of control she desires while still letting a pretty equal power-play whether she's on bottom or top

she likes having you rut against her thigh as well but she will not be interested in any sexual activity in public whether or not she was before the war, everyone has their eyes on her and she doesn't have time for judgment

if she wins the war, she will take you in every area of the castle with the libido of two bunnies together

she likes teasing you and edging but she might overstimulate you if you act out

she is very vocal during sex and praises you as if you gifted her the sun and moon to her

i don't know if there is a proper term for it but i feel like she would have a kink for a hot atmosphere while using cold objects in your marital bed

[certified-monster-lover]

Rules:

If you've actually read my rules, leave a like here so I know.

First, and foremost: I am a multifandom blog. I write based on what is currently my biggest hyperfixation. If you follow me for content for a fandom and I write for another, don't be so surprised about it.

My readers will be poc, gender, and sexuality inclusive! Simply include how you'd like me to portray the reader in your request and I will follow it to the best of my ability! (Note: If nothing is included, reader will be gender neutral for simplicities sake.)

When making a request, please be polite and patient. I am just as human as you are, and I am not obliged to answer your demand. If you treat me with respect, I will be the same. Impolite asks get deleted or ignored.

If you're not specific with your request, I am not writing it the way you might expect. I'm not a mind reader.

Overly specific requests will not be answered. If you can write the entire plot in the ask box, you can write the story yourself. I am a creator and would like to be creative.

I write both nsfw and sfw works of fiction. minors that follow my account and read my fics, Don't tell me your ages, please. I can't stop you from interacting but just don't let me catch you.

I write for platonic and romantic/sexual relationships. When it comes to my x readers, I try to keep genders and appearances as neutral as possible unless it's valid to the story. my readers include: female reader, male reader, nonbinary/gender neutral reader, trans, etc.

Reader can be top, bottom, or switch for my nsfw requests. Please imply which you'd prefer or I will default to bottom reader.

I enjoy writing as a hobby in general, but I also want to explore it. there will be times where I write graphic content, which includes yandere, noncon, and other disturbing/dark themes. you need to understand that under no circumstances do I approve nor romanticize the themes I write for, and I'd prefer my readers to think the same. if you are sensitive to such content, DO NOT PROCEED FURTHER.

I am allowed to deny a scenario if you request it. Sometimes I like scenarios requested, sometimes I don't. it depends solely on how I am.

Don't stir or cause unnecessary drama on my profile. if you don't like something, that's not my concerned. keep that business away.

Proshippers, it's pretty obvious. don't bother interacting with my account. same goes for transphobic, homophobic, anti lgbtq+, racist, to name a few. fuck off.

Do whatever you wish on my account; I don't mind spam likes or constant asks because they make me feel happy to know people like what I do. but don't bring any toxicity here, and that's final. don't steal or repost my works, be they writings or drawings ANYWHERE.

rules can, and will be updated regularly

[yanderes-galore]

Hi, me again! I really enjoyed the eggman Utopia fic you wrote for me, and I wanted to ask if you could continue that, where the reader somehow makes contact with sonic and his friends and they plan to rescue the reader, so in order for that to work the reader has to distract eggman from noticing that team sonic is in his base by giving him affection and kissing him as an apology. Making him think that they finally accept that there’s no point in trying to escape him so the reader might as well embrace it. Just as the reader and eggman are in a passionate kiss, team sonic bust in the room and successfully saves the reader. Also can you keep this SFW please? Thank you so much.

This is a continuation, read Utopia here first.

No worries, the fics on here are kept SFW for the most part so you're all good :) This is actually a decent length, lol.

Note: The ending gets REALLY dark, actually the whole story is dark, please be warned that this was meant to be horrific not romantic. Despite this being a Sonic story... it is not for kids like most of my writing.

Dystopia

Yandere! Eggman Scenario

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Manipulation, Deception, Obsession, Isolation, Attempt at escape, Forced relationship, SFW as usual so I tried not to make things graphic for you, Darling has trauma, Violence, Forced kissing, Vague mature themes.

Months felt longer when your life has been primarily metal walls. Robotnik had managed to forgive you for your disagreement on beliefs eventually. By the end of your punishment you felt scared to be forced into isolation again.

Like usual... you're dressed in black clothes with the Eggman Empire logo over your heart. You resent him even more than you did before since your argument. Your time in the cell only made you realize one thing.

You had to bring him down.

Robotnik had trouble trusting. In order to get anything done you had to sacrifice your self-integrity. You'd do anything to just have the world stay clean.

That's what you'd keep reminding yourself. You were doing this for home, you were doing this for Sonic, you were doing this for you. You'd do anything the get out of this chemically smelling base.

You tried not to be suspicious. You became loyal to your captor in exchange for small freedoms. You did whatever he asked... whenever he asked for it.

This change was something the tyrant enjoyed. Any chance of him catching on you quickly squashed. You worshipped him, all with a cute smile and adoring touch.

All until you had freedom to roam the base.

The first thing you did? Search for the communications room to somehow contact Sonic. Having been around Robotnik enough, you had ways to hack the bots roaming the room temporarily.

It's showtime.

Quickly your fingers glide across the inputs on the screen until you could find Tails' lab. You had confidence the young fox would tell Sonic if you were in danger. After all, you were friends too.

Upon hitting call you listen to a soft buzz from the machine. You feel cold sweat drip down your back at the thought of Robotnik finding you out. Hopefully he was busy.

You flinch when static appears on the screen of the communications device before clearing into a video of Tails. The fox looked suspicious until he saw you. You see the surprise on his face before he answers in a panicked voice.

"There's no way... it can't be you!" Tails gasps, eyes looking over your attire. You could see sadness in his eyes at the situation. You smile softly.

"Did you think I was dead or something?" You grimly joke, hurriedly glancing at the oblivious badnik guards.

"No- But you went off the grid! What's going on?"

You bite your lip... recalling the more unsavory details before deciding to spare the young fox.

"I'm a captive at Robotnik's base. There's no need to worry, I'm not loyal to the man in the slightest." You take a moment to breathe, fear making it hard to obtain air. "Care to help a friend out if I give you the coordinates?"

"What kind of question is that? Of course!" Tails answers. "I'll get Sonic to help form a rescue team."

"Bring a lot of firepower. I have a feeling Eggman isn't going to give me up easily. I'll keep him occupied. Don't set off the alarm, okay?" You smile at the idea of escape and the fact you used the nickname Robotnik hates with a passion.

"Alright... what did you mean by that, if I may ask?"

You go silent... shaking your head.

"Don't worry your furry little head, Tails." You tease in a comforting tone. "Just take these directions and go."

You tap away at the machine, sending the fox the coordinates before shutting down the machine. You check to make things exactly the way they were before leaving. The hacking program you set up, after months of observing Robotnik and previous knowledge from Tails, is promptly deactivated before you continue your walk.

Now you just had to play your part.

---

You had no idea how long it would take for them to get there or who Tails was planning on sending. You had a feeling at the very least Sonic, Tails, Knuckles, and Amy would be there... but you hoped that would be enough. You had no idea just what Robotnik would do to keep you.

While waiting for salvation, you distracted Robotnik and your own mind. You acted like you usually did, a pet and servant to a tyrant. Meanwhile you only thought of your friendship with your Mobian friends.

While you sit on the large man's lap, you distanced yourself while he held you. You thought of Sonic saving the day once again. You thought of tinkering with Tails. You thought of the relaxation you spent with Knuckles on his island. You even thought of the friendly picnics Amy would always set up for her human friend.

You want to smile and breathe in fresh air. You want to lay down on green grass and laugh. You want to look into the clouds and talk with friends.

You never wanted to be a part of a dystopia.

You never wanted to be with Robotnik, even if he was the only other human in the world.

You were happy with how things were. Your smile cracked when you felt Robotnik hold you closer. Reality came crashing back down on you... and you wondered when you'd be saved.

"I feel we've been making progress." Robotnik states, grinning.

"Based on reports, sir?" You ask softly, turning your attention to him.

"Well, I feel my... our utopia is coming together. Even more so since your loyalty to me. Doesn't it feel better not to fight?"

You hope the crew has decided to come in stealthily and not set off the alarm. You take a deep breathe, turning in his lap and smiling.

"Yes. It feels better without having to struggle, dear."

You press your hands onto his shoulders, shoving your face into his neck and cringing. You didn't want to put up with this any longer.

"Well aren't you affectionate...."

"I want to apologize."

Robotnik pauses, encouraging you to continue.

"I wasn't very considerate when we fought. I want to say..." You lean to whisper into his ear. "I'm sorry."

Robotnik is silent, clearing his throat and readjusting his hold on you.

"Really? What a change...."

You sense him catching on.

"Of course... so why don't you just sit back for me."

"(Y/N)?" He says your name in a tone that shows you caught him off guard. You grin teasingly. Internally, you pray this is enough.

"You've done so much work for the two of us. All I've done is cause you trouble. Let me remedy that...."

You let your mind go blank before forcing your lips onto his. There's no movement... only a long pause that makes you concerned. You go to pull away, unsure, until Robotnik slaps his hand on the back of your hand to stop you.

He wasn't letting this moment go to waste.

You remind yourself to just go along with it until your friends come to help. You ignore how it feels. You ignore how he holds you. You just think of freedom...

... and freedom came.

An alarm sounded way too late, causing Robotnik to begrudgingly stop the kiss. You can't get rid to the taste and try to hide your disgust. Moments later you see the door bust open and you're pushed off Robotnik's lap.

In the doorway stands Knuckles, Tails and Amy behind him. You can't hide your smile anymore but your brows crease.

"Where's...?"

"He wanted to make a big entrance." Amy winks before they step aside.

As if on queue, Sonic bursts in with quills surging with a poweful yellow. Your excitement only grows and you can't help but laugh.

"You."

Robotnik seethes, glaring at both you and your friends as soon as you ran to them.

"You LIAR. You SCHEMING FIEND!"

You narrow your eyes at him, standing behind your friends.

"Takes one to know one, huh?"

"You AREN'T leaving. I'll kill them... then I'll take you back! I'll make you a ROBOT if I have to! I'LL-"

You flinch and Sonic steps in front.

"Enough talk, Eggman. Let them go."

"Willingly? You've lost your MIND, hedgehog!"

With that, a button is pressed. You knew what that means... badniks and a new mecha machine Robotnik had created. Your fear only encouraged the others to take you away.

"You got this, Sonic! We'll escort (Y/N)!"

You trusted Sonic to get things done. All that mattered now was escape. Eagerly you gave the others instructions to where potential exits could be. You've been here so long... yet with your friends by your side...

You can taste freedom on your tongue.

---

As per usual, Robotnik made an overly grande machine to fight the hedgehog. Rage boiled within him at the super hedgehog. Everything was going so well!

Now all due to your plan he was back at square one.

"Why don't you ever just stay STILL!" Robotnik seethes, making attempts to blast away the hedgehog with rockets.

"What did you do to them, Eggman!?" Sonic yells. "You took them here... for what reason!?"

"None of your business, hedgehog!"

"I've never seen you care for anyone like this!"

"Don't taunt me!"

"I bet you don't care that you hurt them, do you?"

The mech takes more damage as Sonic hits into it. Alarms blare in the madman's ears, he grits his teeth. Life only ever got more annoying.

"If they stopped fighting, they'd be happy!" Robotnik growls. "Why do they care so much about you? They could've had it all if they listened!"

Sonic only ever hit the mech more. Robotnik felt the metal walls giving in. Things never went his way.

"I think we both know the answer to that question, Eggman."

Another blow... the mech catches fire.

Robotnik hated to admit it, but the hedgehog was right. They do both knew why you never listened to him. He's a tyrant... he only ever thinks about himself... he's only ever hurt you in an attempt to satiate his own desires...

... and now he's just lost to his greatest enemy, again, all because you managed to outsmart him.

As the mech goes down and he feels things crumble around him... he grins.

He's almost impressed.

---

Victory has never tasted so... bittersweet. It was funny to think. After all... you're home, right? You're safe... the danger is gone.

You have your wish. You can lay on the grass... you can breathe in the clear air... you can look up into the clouds! Why does it not feel the same?

Deep down, you know. You remember the months you went through with Eggman. The memories echo in your mind no matter how much you try to forget about them

It's sad and strange... you're both human yet so different. It upsets you that you can't relate to someone so like you in species. Oh well... you sigh... life is cruel.

All you can do is be thankful that you have your Mobian friends. Said friends are incredibly happy to have you back. When you were back on fresh grass... you were bombarded in hugs.

Caring hugs.

You nearly cried.

Tails expressed worried apologies towards you, you told him it isn't his fault. Sonic and Knuckles reassured you you're safe and showed anger at how you were treated, you said you're okay. Amy wanted to talk about what happened to help... you said you were fine.

Truth is, they didn't need to hear the details. What happened... happened. With time you were sure you'd mend your wounds.

Yet you also accepted you'd never be the same. You were just happy to be home, you were just happy to have your own clothes. You never asked Sonic what happened to Eggman after the battle.

You just hoped you'd never have to see him again... if you did, you'd make sure he could never hurt anyone else ever again.

[genshin-scenarios]

Hi hello how are u? I love your writing and still waiting for adopt a Wanderer scenario! Could i maybe request a flower arranger reader and wanderer works as doll maker both works together sometimes (looks like the one he made in the game) Hmm maybe worried wanderer since he hasn't seen the reader for long (miss them) or maybe they injure themselves and he take care of the reader (preferebaly fem reader but it's up to u ofc) have a nice day 🥰

Tysm for sending this in!! It was such a cute prompt to work with 💕 hope you liked the rest of the Wanderer series as well! 👉👈

Notes: In the end I didn't really use any referral to pronouns in the fic, so it can be read as gender neutral too!

Also mentions of blood (reader cut their finger by accident) but it's nothing serious.

Of course, being a doll maker was only a civilian cover for Wanderer, who would often disappear during random periods to complete missions for the Dendro Archon. What he didn't appreciate however is how you're the one that's been occupied as of late - dragged into helping with some Amurta scholars' research project.

At least he's fairly quick with his work; what could possibly be so urgent that you'd have to be in the rainforest for two weeks?! And you had the nerve to ask him to help cover for you while you were gone… You're lucky he likes your company enough to go through with all this, and that he was competent enough to not mess up your business.

It's nothing much, just completing orders that you've designed beforehand to give to the clients that booked your arrangements. You'd even prepared the vase for each of them in advance to make things easier.

He can understand why you preferred this instead of scholarly work though (which you too had the potential for). Being able to interact with clients of different backgrounds and stories, then to translate their intentions into your craft; it's complicated at first glance, but simple in action because of the experience you have under your belt.

He still remembers the first time he entered your store, simply drawn in by the Inazuman specialities you imported recently, only to be met with the sight of you meticulously arranging them into a vase. Your actions were featherlight and evidently professional, but it's the soft smile you wore as you took delight in your work that gave him pause.

They looked like fireworks.

"Ah, sorry about that." You'd apologised, asking him if there's anything you could help with. Instead of faking an order, Wanderer instead asked if the arrangement on the table was for anything in particular.

"I'm… a traveler from Inazuma." He settled on explaining. "The sight of those flowers caught my attention, is all."

Your eyes immediately brightened then, glimmering with curiosity. "May I ask if this design is to your liking, then? I was told to base it off the fireworks from Naganohara… though I've only witnessed their work once before during Liyue's Lantern Rite."

From the bright focal blooms to the filler flowers that make a sea of darker hues, it was hard not to feel nostalgic when he looked at the arrangement. From then on the both of you hit it off pretty well, considering his track record - exchanging stories about travels (you went to Liyue every year or so to deliver large shipments) to questions about his hobbies, Wanderer always found it odd that he never found your inquiries too annoying. Maybe it's the way you hold yourself and your straightforward curiosities that charmed him.

Eventually you touched on the topic of new business opportunities now that regulations on the arts have lightened a little. "Perhaps you might even make a living out of your own craft, " You thought aloud to him one day.

"You mean sewing dolls?" Wanderer gave you an odd look. Sure, he's mentioned that he used to be a doll maker when you asked if he had any creative skills, but he hadn't expected you to actually remember that detail. Who would be interested in a toy as useless as that?

It seemed to be a spiteful twist of fate that decided who would enter your shop next; a toyseller you're acquainted with because he liked to keep his shop fresh with new blooms every week. From there, Wanderer was swept along in your rhythm as you managed to arrange a trial session for him to test out his product. Something about a wooden Aranara carving not being very play-friendly, and that cuter designs would probably be more favourable amongst children.

Fast forward to now, where you've been friends for a while and you've finally returned from that research trip - you'd apologised to Wanderer for the trouble before offering to make dinner to make up for it.

Your home doubles as a second office of sorts, less occupied with personal items and moreso with notes of larger projects that you'll have due next month.

Wanderer chooses to ignore the sewing thread that's sticking out from one of your drawers, definitely not related to the doll he once gifted you when you asked to make a trade of crafts - out of curiosity for what this sharp-tongued man could make with his hands, and you were not disappointed. His craftsmanship was delicate but precise, and if he was to be bold enough to make a guess… were you trying to make another doll to give back to him? He'll just leave you to it and pretend to be surprised later.

"Should I help?" He asks as he watches you fish out ingredients in the kitchen. Then a cutting board and knife, and the chopping begins. "I can do that while you worry about cooking over the stove."

"It's fine, I– Ow?!" You curse, dropping the knife as you turn to the sink and run your hand under the water. It takes a moment for him to realise you've cut yourself. "Ugh… I'll be fine, it's just a small cut."

Wanderer is already searching for your first aid kit though, recalling where you placed it the last time you found him with a bruise on his shoulder (it really didn't hurt, but he couldn't exactly explain his puppet background to you without scaring you away).

With a sigh, he tells you to face him and hold still while he applies an ointment to soothe the sting, and quickly wraps up your finger with the gauze. "You shouldn't use a blade if your mind is distracted with something else." He secures it, then starts putting everything away with an efficiency that has you dazed. "I mean, what would happen if you took your entire finger off?"

"I doubt I would manage to do that!" You exclaim, before letting a laugh escape your lips. "Thanks for worrying, though. It's kind of cute to see you fret, but of course I'll be more careful." You reach towards the knife again to pick it up and wash before resuming the dinner prep. "Now let me just–"

"Let's not." Wanderer smoothly steals the item from you, doing it in your stead. "I'd rather not taste blood in my meal, thanks."

In truth, he was just really against the idea of you cutting yourself again, but that doesn't matter when he's hiding this behind his usual quippiness. You make an offended noise, crossing your arms. "My hand slipped one time!"

You forget you're talking to someone who'd drag you to the hospital if you so much as got a cold. "I said I'll do it. Aren't you tired from running around the rainforest all week?"

Your eyes widen. You completely forgot that you wanted to tell him about the trip! Was that why he's been looking at you as if you've forgotten something? "Right, so last week when we first arrived, we…"

…By the time you're done talking, dinner is ready and waiting to be served. Maybe this is what they mean when they say to look out for pretty faces - sharp cunning and even sharper tongues. If Wanderer wasn't so subtly thoughtful at times like these, you might've thought that he hated your guts for real.

[keylovesstuff]

Hiii Everyone!!!

I've been around for years now and have never introduced myself. mainly cause I just choose to vibe and enjoy the posts people share, but first time for everything. You can just call me Key, I'm 24 and I go by she/her. I enjoy a variety of stuff from manwha, manga, anime, video game franchises, and just a bunch of other animated media you name its probably buried down in my blog somewhere. Every now and then I get motivation to create fanfiction. I have only written works the Dragonball and Super Mario fandom All my works are under the "Keep Reading". My DMs and askbox here is always open if you ever want to chat I apologize in advance if I come across as a bit awkward (socializing is not a strong suit of mine) or if it takes me a minute to reply (adulting and hobbies am I right?), otherwise I'm a pretty chill person. Thats about it!

One of these days I really want to change my Penname...But I've had it for years now and I'm way too attached to it lmao.

Super Mario Fics: So a lot of these are Princess Peach centric and I'm just crafting up an origin story and some other events following the 2023 film. The links take you to the tumblr post but I have included the AO3 and FFN (for reading preferences) links either in the original post itself or in the case of my earlier stuff in the reblogs.

Lost And Found

A Learning Opportunity (2 chapters on both AO3 and FFN. They are both on the same post here)

Thoughts Over Tea

Aftermath

Finding The Balance

Little Events (currently 4 chapters)

Chapter 1: The Dark

Chapter 2: A Decision

Chapter 3: The Coronation

Chapter 4: Proposals

Dragonball Fics: The first fandom I have ever written for (and by penname you could probably tell what I read mostly) I have only shared them on FFN and AO3 until now. I was just starting to write fanfiction with the first two so they might be kinda cringe I guess but that's 16 year old me for you haha. gonna embrace the cringe by sharing it on here anyways.

Tournament Day

The Prince Before The Day ( I am never gonna finish that one or go back to it lol)

Bulla's Easter Day

Even when I started making fics I'm still not sure what goes through my mind when it comes to the title or chapter titles its literally the first thing that comes to mind and nothing after that but we will get it one day for sure.

Here's Some WIPs (that's both written and not) you guys can look forward too from me. I'll remove them and add them under the appropriate fic tags once I post them:

Uncle Yamcha fic: It is currently three chapters. The first one is him and Trunks, second is Marron, and the third one is Bra/Bulla. I really want to think of one for him and Goten but nothing has come to my mind. I just think he's more close to Krillin and Bulma where he'd interact more with their kids and I can't think of a scenario for him and Goten or what they would even talk about but maybe something will come. (I've currently sent this off to my Beta for review but lemme know if you guys want to see the un-beta'd version I have on here cause I'm really forward to sharing it)

Untitled EOZ fic following after Goku leaves the Tournament grounds to train Uub. This one sits at about 8k words (not sure exactly cause I added a bunch of notes at the end for my beta to see where my thoughts were going with it all) anyways this one focuses mainly on Trunks, Goten, Marron, Pan, and Bra as really the older kids look forward to what may lie ahead. A lot of it is just me focusing on the dynamics they have with each other. When I saw that dlc for kakorat was going to be focused on that one that really makes me want to share this one. Again let me know if you want to see that.

Based on this Ask here you can already see that I've completed 3 out of my 5 ideas so that leaves the other ones and maybe more if I think of anything else. All of these will probably be added to my Little Events fic. a few little ideas not shared here but I've thought about and have some dialoge in mind but haven't fully created yet.

I want to do something where Mario and Haru interact I just think it'll be so neat.

Maybe something where I do my take on introducing Sarasland and Princess Daisy. Probably along the lines of Peach meeting Daisy for the first time.

I need to hop on the wholesome bros. content at some point and I know I wanna try my hand with Mia and Pio as a part of it.

I think thats it for now...I'll probably add more if I think of something as having somwhere to put it down no matter how small it is can be nice to look at and push me towards getting it done.

[chloecherrysip]

Just Beyond My Reach, There's Someone Reaching Back For Me (speculative mario movie fic, mario & luigi centric, around 3600 words.)

[OK SO i literally could not stop thinking about this post in the mario movie tag from last week, which turned into me trying to write out my thoughts about how the scenario could unfold, which then turned into me writing a full-fledged fanfic that's over 3,000 words long??? I DON'T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED. I've truly lost my common sense, but I just felt like I HAD to get this out before the movie arrives and their reunion is nothing like this in any way whatsoever.

This is a speculative fic of just one possible scenario out of millions, no actual spoilers; i'm working off info we've seen in the trailers/TV spots/promotions/etc, and all the characterization is based off those too, so it might ultimately be off-base. Please don't @ me after the movie comes out and get on my case about details being wrong! I AM IN THE PAST (and jealous of you in the future for having already seen it).

I present to you: A Version Of Mario & Luigi's Reunion in the Mario Movie That Would Cause Me Irreparable Psychic Damage.]

----

Mario hears him first. He would know that panicked yelp anywhere. 

By that point, he’s lost count of how many of Bowser’s minions he’s tried to interrogate as he fights his way through the airship. There’s so much shouting and clanging all around him, and his voice hurts from yelling loud enough to be heard over it, but he can’t stop. “Where do you keep prisoners? Have you seen someone who looks like me — but tall, skinny, and green? If you take me to him, I’ll go easy on ya, I swear—” 

it’s hard to tell if they’re just refusing to answer him, genuinely don’t know any useful information, or can’t actually communicate in a way he understands — probably some in each column. But he’s about to grab another angry Koopa by the shell and try again when there’s a commotion far off in the distance. The yell that echoes out to him is faint, but it tugs hard at Mario like a rope tied around his middle. Something from his memories, the nightmares he’s been having this whole adventure that he hasn’t told Peach and Toad about. Something instantly, certainly familiar to him in a way that few things are. 

His heart is suddenly lodged in his throat. He barrels his way past the troops and the Kongs fighting them, moving fast towards it.

The area of the airship he’s in starts to slope down further ahead, surrounding a huge open space that, judging by the flickering embers in the air and heavy heat that’s got him sweating through his shirt already, has a whole bunch of lava simmering at the bottom. On the other side of the chasm, there are a whole group of what look like angry blue penguins beating down some feisty stacks of Goombas with their bare flippers. There’s also what impossibly looks like a star, with a face and everything, beaming bright and doing twirling cartwheels in the air, giggling at the carnage underneath. And behind all that, he can see—

Mario reacts without having to think. He jolts forward against the railing, reaches a hand out, and yells as loud as he can. “LUIGI!” 

He can only see glimpses of his overalls and green hat at first amidst all the other chaos, but then pieces of the ongoing fight tumble further to either side, giving a clear view. Mario watches wide-eyed as his brother frantically swats away Goombas, shrieking and flailing his arm furiously when one snags some teeth through his sleeve until it comes loose. He looks terrified and a little queasy, but also very determined, even jumping in to help when one of the penguins gets pinned down. They seem to be working together. 

Luigi is here. He’s really here, alive and fighting and still in one piece. Mario isn’t too late. It feels like a 20 pound weight’s suddenly gone from his back that he hadn't even realized he was carrying around.

His yell is half-drowned out by the chaos, but Luigi’s head still snaps up, eyes wide and stricken and bright with recognition. “Mario?” He cries out, his voice cracking badly. He kicks another Goomba away and then starts spinning, searching the surrounding area with increasing desperation. “Mario!?” 

“Over here!” Mario wishes he had another raccoon powerup so he could just fly across the gap and reach him right then and there. He has to settle for taking off his cap and waving it in the air like a flag. “Luigi! Over here!” 

Finally, their eyes meet across the gorge. It’s not necessary at that point, but Luigi still tears off his own hat and starts flailing it around too overhead, as if just to make absolutely sure his brother knows where he is. “MARIO!” He shouts, his tired face instantly transforming into a relieved, overjoyed smile. 

“Are you okay!?” 

“Y-Yeah! I mean, define “okay,” but I, I'm not hurt or anything like — wait, how did you get here!? We’re way up in the air!”

Mario’s face already hurts from how wide he’s grinning. “Not anymore! And whaddya mean? What do ya think I’ve been doing all this time? Looking for you! You don’t think I could find you wherever you are, even if it’s a million miles in the air? Give your big bro some credit, eh?” 

A laugh bursts out of Luigi, surprised and shaky. Mario has missed that sound so much. “Right, right. I did think…I mean, I hoped, or…” His brother shakes his head, his voice failing him. He lets out a deep breath, so deep that it’s almost like he’s been holding it in ever since they were separated, still smiling like the sun. “I knew you would. Mario, you — look out!” 

Mario turns just as a hammer goes whizzing past his ear, tumbling down into the lava pit. He dodges the next one more capably and then catches the third one that comes his way. In one smooth, lightning-quick motion, he throws it back at the attacking Hammer Bro, nailing him in the face and knocking him out cold.

“Whoa!” He turns back to see Luigi staring with his mouth agape. “When did you learn how to do that?”

“It's kinda a long story!” There will be plenty of time to get into all the details about his adventure when he’s gotten Luigi safely out of an active warzone.  “What about you? I thought you were a prisoner here!” 

“I am! Or I was, I guess! We — me, and the penguins, and Lumalee,” he gestures wearily up overhead, where the blue star-thing is idly playing with a pinwheel that it somehow conjured out of thin air, “and the others — we broke out! We, ah, we’ve been trying to find a way outta here ever since, but this place is a maze and we need some kind of hot air balloon or one of those floating clown-car thingies to even get away in the first place, and—”

“Spinies at four o’clock!” One of the penguins shouts, at the same time that Mario yells “Luigi, on your left!”

Luigi jolts at the sight of the three spiky, spinning shells approaching fast. He jumps high enough to leapfrog right over them all, causing them to ricochet off the wall unexpectedly and careen off the side straight into the deep pit. 

“Nice, Weegie!” Mario cheers. “You always were the better jumper.” 

“Keep your head in the fight, soldier!” One specific penguin calls out to Luigi. He’s wearing a very fancy gold crown — probably their king? “We’re not done here yet!” 

“I know, I know, but look!” Luigi gestures excitedly across the chasm. “My brother’s here! He made it!”

“Good show! If he’s as brave as you said, he can help us beat back these dastardly troops once and for all! We’ll all see the light of day again soon!”

The rest of the penguins cheer, thrusting their flippers victoriously into the air, and then let out a wave of new, guttural battle cries. The Penguin King smiles over at Mario and salutes him before rejoining the fray. There are more of Bowser’s minions crowding the walkways on both sides, Mario realizes with a newfound wave of worry. He needs to get to Luigi now. 

“Stay right there!” He calls, starting to run alongside the railing. “Don’t move! I’m coming!”

“Are you kidding!? Wait!” Luigi starts running too, mirroring Mario. “I can meet you faster this way!” 

Mario laughs. “If you can keep up with me!” 

“You’re on!”

The road ahead of him is pure chaos, filled with attacking enemies and whooping Kongs and weapons flying every which way, but Mario runs. He runs until his heart burns, dodging and weaving, almost tripping here and there because he can’t stop looking over the gap to make sure Luigi’s still there on the other side, stumbling his way through his own gauntlet. The two areas are winding closer together, slowly but surely. They must meet somewhere. He’ll find it. He has to.

“Hey, Luigi!” He yells, breathless and happy. “Remember when we were fixing Mrs. McGrady’s sink a couple weeks ago and talking about the future? Did you imagine it’d be anything like this?” 

“Whaddya think!?” Luigi shouts back jokingly. “I-I mean, I imagined people being mad at us, but those were customers. There was definitely a lot less lava, and magic, and crazy green pipes that send you to places from your literal nightmares!” He laughs, which swiftly turns into a yelp when he has to dodge away from a red Koopa. The next words come out thicker, almost strained. “Mario, you, you’re really here, you — I missed you, I…”

Even with the distance and the distracting noise and the heavy breathing, Mario can hear the familiar tearing in his brother’s voice, and it pushes him to run faster. Luigi is so much braver than many people in their life have given him credit for, but he has a breaking point, and Mario can recognize it like the back of his own hand. Heck, he could use a good cry right about now too. They're so close. Just a little further.

He’s never been the biggest hugger — that title belongs squarely to Luigi, who always holds on a little too long, especially when Mario protests, swinging him up into the air until Mario has to grab him in a headlock and wrestle him down, both of them laughing by then — but he genuinely doesn’t know how he’s ever going to let go of his brother again once he’s within arm’s reach. 

“I missed you too! Every day!” He calls out, and if his voice cracks, well, that’s okay. “Hold on! It’s gotta be just up ahead!” There’s a solid wall coming up where they won’t be able to see each other across the way any longer, but the sharp curve of it looks extremely promising. “I’ll meet you on the other side!” 

“Okay!” 

The wall comes between them. Mario's finally in the clear, having left all the attackers in the dust. His legs and chest hurt, but it doesn’t matter. He's about to get his brother back. He feels invincible, unstoppable.

“I told you, bro!” He can’t hear Luigi at all any longer, but he shouts anyway, hoping the words reach him.  “Even if it didn’t turn out like we thought, it’s all gonna be okay! This is crazy stuff, but as long as we're—” 

Mario turns the corner and skids to a sharp stop. The words die in his throat, turning to ash.

Bowser is in front of him. 

The King of the Koopas nearly fills the entire space wall-to-wall, hulking and monstrous, even bigger than what Mario imagined. He breathes out an angry, deep growl that prickles at Mario’s skin, star-bright embers scattering in the air, the smell of burning getting stronger and stronger. But none of that is what Mario is focusing on. He’s frozen in place at the sight of Luigi, wriggling in one of Bowser’s gripped hands. A thick, scaly finger is coiled tight over his brother’s mouth too, keeping him from making any noise besides a variety of muffled, panicked sounds. 

“Thought you didn’t know him, Greenie,” Bowser says in a low voice to Luigi. “Wasn’t that what you said? Boy, you wouldn’t like what I usually do to liars. It involves fire — a lot of it.” His rows of sharp teeth part, just enough for a big exhale, tinged with molten heat. Luigi cringes, turning his head away as far as he can manage. He’s trembling. “But lucky for you, turns out you’re not entirely useless.”

It takes a moment for Mario to come back into his body, remember how to move and think. But slowly, his hands ball into fists. A voice erupts out of him that barely sounds like his own, grave and angry, angrier than he’s ever been in his life. 

“I’m only gonna say this once, ya overgrown turtle,” he says, shifting his footing into a fighting stance. “Let my brother go now.” 

Bowser looks down at him with a derisive sort of amusement for a long moment before laughing outright. "Give me a break, shortie! You’re even punier in person — 50 of you couldn't stop me. But that hasn’t stopped you from trying, has it? You and your little friends  — your pathetic excuse for an “army,” if that’s what you want to call it. But that all ends now.” 

As if on cue, Mario hears DK and a few other Kongs turn the corner, whooping and hollering, only to pause too at the sight of Bowser. “Let’s get ‘em! He can't take us all at once!” Someone says, and there’s a rush of new movement behind Mario. Bowser turns Luigi in his hand, holding him out a little closer to Mario with a shake of the wrist — a taunt. One of his claws pulls up just a little from the rest, the sharp tip arched and pressed lightly to his brother’s neck. The implication is clear. 

“Stop!” Mario shouts, half-strangled. He must sound serious enough that DK yells “hang on, hang on!” to his brethren, grabbing them with both arms and holding them back from attacking. On Bowser's other side, Mario can see the penguins watching what’s unfolding too with wide eyes. Even all the minions in the area have gone still, weapons lowered, waiting to see what Bowser does before making their next move. The space is suddenly quiet. 

The claw finally relaxes again. Luigi’s eyes are very wide, and there are tears on his face as he stares at Mario. He tries to say something, the sound of it hopelessly muffled against Bowser’s hand — an apology, or a plea, or simply Mario’s name. 

Mario is shaking. He grits his teeth hard, desperately tries to hold himself steady again. He hopes Bowser can’t see it — but there’s a gleam in the King’s eyes, and it couldn’t be any clearer that he does. 

“Do you know how long I worked on this plan?” Bowser says, his tone softer, more thoughtful all of a sudden.  “Orchestrating these invasions, gathering forces far and wide to serve me, taking the almighty power star for myself. I’ve wanted this for years!” His wide mouth curves up, plainly wicked and self-satisfied. “And now here I am, about to rule the world like I deserve, and a couple of useless, pipsqueak plumbers from who-knows-where think they’re just gonna waltz right in and ruin it for me.” Bowser chuckles to himself. It’s a dangerous, sharp-edged sound, echoing on and on. “Ain’t that a laugh, Mario?” 

Mario doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t even know if he’s breathing any longer. All he can do is glare.

Bowser shrugs. The large fingers on his occupied hand flex ever so slightly, a slow, malicious ripple of movement, all the scales glinting in a wave. “You’re less fun than I thought you’d be,” he says gruffly. "What does the princess even see in you? A tiny little killjoy who loves ruining things for others. Guess it’s only fair I ruin something of yours to make us even."

There’s no further warning or fanfare. In one brutal motion, Bowser crushes his grip tighter around Luigi. His brother’s mouth is still covered, but the way he cries out is starkly, unmistakably pained. 

Mario’s vision floods with red. Something inside of him, the patient, careful part that was still desperately clinging to one last scrap of self-control, snaps cleanly in two. He runs at Bowser full-speed, fist cocked back, teeth bared. 

“I said LET HIM GO!” 

He doesn’t make it there. Bowser, grinning outright, moves so much faster than Mario would have ever guessed he could. He spins, and his tail comes out of nowhere. The impact is like an oncoming train, catapulting Mario into the nearby wall with a sickening crack.

There’s a horrible ringing sound in his ears. His head hurts. He hears Bowser laugh, followed by a roar and a burst of fire breath, awful-smelling and close enough to singe. There’s a lot of shouting, and panic, and thunderous footsteps, moving in a hurry. He can’t think any longer. Why can’t he think? All that comes to mind is—

(They’re fifteen, hiding in their bedroom with some smuggled bandages and antibiotics from the medicine cabinet because if their mom finds out Mario punched out a kid behind the school, she will LITERALLY murder him. Luigi wraps each bruised knuckle carefully as Mario winces and complains about the stinging ointment. His brother looks angrier than he’s ever seen him before, though, and that makes him quiet again in a hurry.)

“You want him so bad?” Bowser is much further away, his voice a distant rumble over the flickering flames. Get up, Mario tells himself. He’s gasping, struggling to push himself back up with useless, trembling hands. His legs feel numb. Get up! “Then come and get ‘em already!”

(“You never stop and THINK first, y’know?” Luigi shakes his head, badly trying to hide the tears budding under his eyes. “And now you’re hurt, and it’s all my fault, and — and I don’t need you to do stuff like that for me! I can handle it, e-even if you think I can’t!”) 

“Mario!” That’s Luigi, terrified and wheezing, finally able to talk again. An intentional decision by Bowser, no doubt, just to be cruel. Mario can barely hear his brother at all, and the sound of his voice keeps growing fainter. “No! Let go! MARIO!” 

(“What are you even saying? That’s not why I did it at all!” Mario insists, using his uninjured hand to flick Luigi’s nose with a few fingers. His affronted expression at that makes Mario laugh, and the motion quickly turns into them trying to be the first one to swat each other in the face without getting blocked. At least the tears are forgotten, which is what he wanted from the start. “Don’t ya get it? I know you can take care of yourself. But if anyone wants to hurt you, they’re gonna have to go through me first. I’M the big bro, and that’s just how it is forever.”) 

Luigi! 

He’s standing again, even as his body protests every pull and push of the way, even as he’s still struggling to open his eyes. Someone strong and furry offers some extra support on his right side. 

“You okay, man?” Donkey Kong asks. “Geez, that looked like it hurt. Hey, anyone have an extra mushroom?” 

Stars are flashing across his vision, but finally they fade away. There’s a line of fire in front of them like a makeshift barrier, slowly but steadily dying out. Sure enough, Bowser and Luigi are gone. Mario’s heart lurches hard against his ribs.

“Setting a devious trap for sure,” The Penguin King grouses from further away. “Using one’s own flesh and blood! Does that dastardly Koopa’s depravity know no limits?” 

“I’m fine. Never better,” Mario groans. He points past the fire. “He went that way, right?” 

DK blinks, looking a little uneasy. “Uh, yeah, but we should probably regroup first and — hey! Wait a second, you idiot!”

Mario’s already charged full-speed ahead, jumping over the flames. Others yell after him too, saying it's too dangerous, but he’s running anyway, chasing the smell of molten heat, the faint, far-off echoes of yelling that feel like pinpricks in his lungs. 

He knows it’s a trap. He knows. He just doesn’t care.

He already let Luigi literally slip through his hands once before. Heck, he isn’t sure if he’ll ever be able to forgive himself for that alone. No matter where he has to go, who he has to fight, how much abuse he has to take, he's getting Luigi back right now, and he's gonna pound that overgrown bully's face until he regrets every life decision that led to him daring to hurt Mario's little brother.

It can't be too late. He can't have screwed this up again. He'll do anything. Even if...

The feeling of something on his cap startles him out of the thought — the softest boop-boop-boop, like someone very small is bouncing on it. He assumes he’s just imagining things until the blue star-thing (Lumalee?) floats down further, easily keeping up with his top speed, humming what sounds like a lullaby. Mario gawks in its direction. 

“The biggest sacrifices are often the ones that burn the brightest, out in space,” it says, bright and sing-song. “Did you know that?”

“What are you even talking about!?” Mario yells. “Sorry, but I’m a little busy here!” 

It’s unbothered by that, twirling close enough to give his mustache a little, playful poke. “Not existing any longer is natural, inevitable. We all go into the light someday.” The way it’s staring at Mario is unnerving, as though this little, creepy star knows exactly what he was just thinking about. “You look scared of that. Are you?” 

Mario swallows thickly. 

“No,” he says. “If that’s the only way, then…” His eyes are burning at the edges, just a little. “If the people I love are safe, then it doesn’t matter what happens to me.”

Lumalee smiles a dreamy, thoughtful smile.

“Oh,” it sighs, little more than a breath. “This is going to be so much fun.” 

And then it floats away. 

Mario doesn’t have time to stop and wonder what that was all about. He throws himself deeper and deeper into the airship, even when a heavy metal gate slams down behind him to separate him from the others, even when the slabs of rock under his feet sink down into the lava from the weight and don’t resurface, erasing any way out. Mario thinks of his training, of Princess Peach and Toad cheering him on, of the exhilaration and hope he felt looking out over the Rainbow Road, of Luigi smiling in the warp zone right before they were ripped apart. He steels himself for what’s coming next.

Further ahead, he hears his brother call out for him.

Mario runs.

[chitinleg]

so if someone was theoretically going to write a fic based off of the tags on that one very excellent garashir artwork you did... what would be a suitable villain role and/or scheme for garak to play? i know basically nothing about spy media and even less about james bond. i googled "most homoerotic james bond villain" and that was interesting but not helpful for this scenario... idk i want to really do this justice so i figured i could ask, since you came up with the idea in the first place and i guess that means this is a gift for you? and everyone else who liked that piece? thank you for your time :)

this is SUCH a charming question to receive!!! it's an honor that my art might inspire others to create! that said, here is my advice: i think you should follow your heart, mainly! i say this to everyone about everything but its very true, with writing especially, i think, you might want to write things that are especially interesting to you so that its exciting to keep going with them

personally, i don't watch a lot of spy media, i disliked james bond as a kid and i still dislike him now, so the character archetypes and plots from that wouldn't interest me enough to write a fanfic off of—i could read ds9 fic based off of them easily bc i love the ds9 characters!!! but. i couldn't write like that. therefore, i can't give you useful answers from that canon. i can give you this, but i don't know if it will be helpful: i think i would first start with the question—what about garak excites you? what puts you on the edge of your seat with him? what about julian—what actions do you like to see him take? what decisions of his make you giddy? how do you like to dig into his character? how do you like to dig into garak's? if you write down the answers to your question, it becomes the puzzle of how you can get everything you want out of the fic. the beautiful thing about the holosuite is that anything can happen at all, and while you're telling a spy story, it doesn't have to all be spy tropes. you could, if you wanted, play out a shakespeare play (your favorite shakespeare play, assuming you don't hate them all) as if it were a spy thriller! Sure, what's Twelfth Night as a spy thriller? We already have many characters playing with the fluidity of identity, going by different names, taking on different roles, gaining trust and acting on their own best interests. Just raise the stakes a little. is this insane? i feel insane. is it worth anything? i hope so. my ending point is: i am not so good at writing advice! i'm a much better drawer than a worder, but it's a gift already that you've said my art has motivated your desire to create!!!!!!!!! from there on—don't worry about what i want at all, don't worry about doing my work justice!!! take what excites you about the idea, take what excites you from your own ideas, and build it into something that makes you giddy to work on!!! i believe in you, and you have the world at your fingertips!!!!!!

[yujeong]

A WIP self-callout post based on this meme—thank you so much @wretchedamaranth 🥺 It's always fun for me to talk about my WIPs (even when I'm not doing much progress with them haha *cries*) WIP I'm actually working on: Ahh.. to be perfectly honest, none. I mostly write down ideas and snippets that come to me about the gazillion fics I want to write. I hope that one day, I'll be able to focus on a specific one, and finish it. WIP I keep open in the background so I don't feel guilty: My VP somno fic. Obviously. It haunts my dreams at this point. Imaginary project: Hmm, I don't know how to answer that, because by imaginary, I assume it's an idea you haven't started writing yet, which doesn't apply to me because I've written notes and snippets about every idea I have. I'll just say every other VP smut idea I have besides the somno one, I guess. In my mind, they've mostly been written. On paper though, eehh... Passion project: My Kim&Pete series 😭 I love it so fucking much, these idiots mean so much to meeeeee. I want my brain to cooperate so I can finally start working on the second installment again, and then go to the third one, which will take place during the 1-month time skip we got in canon. So many wonderful angsty scenarios waiting to be written 🥹 WIP from 3 months ago: My Ep13 Pete-centric missing scene fic 😇 This one will be very short and I decided to start writing it on a whim - as I do with most of my ideas tbh - so, if I truly get down to it, I can have at least the first draft finished pretty soon. I love the idea a lot, so I hope I'll manage to do that. Side WIP: My TeeWhite fic about how White came to agree to go to the trip with Tee 🥳 I love the potential of this idea a lot, but I've set a rule on myself that I'll post at least one of my VP ideas before continuing to work on this one, so it'll take a few more months before it's posted. As you can see, I'm a canon type of girl. I love it when a show intrigues me so much that I want to explore its world and characters, so these are the kinds of fics I mostly write. No pressure tagging @xpi-x-elx, @mightymightygnomepriest, @fleet-off, @suzteel, @lu-sn, @thisautistic, @vegaseatsass and anyone else who might want to do this ❤️