#and I even contemplated on finishing it at all

[papaya-twinks]

my little bookworm - l.n

Warnings: cuteness

Pairing: Lando Norris x uni!fem!reader

A/N - based off of @cheriiepies, you inspired this and this is for you x

Lando loved you. He really did. You were his perfect little angel of a girlfriend, sweet and nice and just everything he could ever want all bundled up into one adorable little person that he loved more than he loved anything. But sometimes he did find it a little saddening to watch the girl he was so in love with to have her nose buried into a book.

Not that he didn’t understand why. He knew what he was getting into, when he asked out the smartest (and prettiest) girl he’d ever met, he knew you’d have to continue with your studying. Benefits and not so good parts of dating a bookworm, anyways.

“Y/N,” Lando said, his voice very nearly close to being a whine as you finally tore your eyes from the book you were studying. “I’m finishing my studying, Lando,” you said to him with a little huff, annoyed he’d interrupted you.

“You’ve been studying for ages, though,” he said, “and you said you were ‘nearly done’ a whole hour ago,”. God, it was ten minuets ago. And here Lando was, performing his Grade A drama shit. Good on him, anyways? Back up career if F1 didn’t work out.

“You’re so needy,” you said, flicking him as you went back to jotting down your maths equations. “What the hell does that even say?” Lando asked, eyeing the questions with wide eyes. “It’s basically means-,” you started, only for Lando to cut you off.

Jeez, would he even let you get a word in? Christ. “No, no, you’ve lost me, I’m gone,” he said, and you could swear you saw his pupils dilate just the tiniest bit just staring down the equations on your textbook.

“I’d rather be dumber than dumb than know that,” he groaned, rolling his eyes. “If I finish this page,” you said, “will you stop having a go at me?”. Lando hummed for a second, almost as if he was contemplating it (though him and you both knew he’d definitely say yes anyways).

“Fine,” he said, moving to sit on the bed, kicking his sneakers off as he stared at you, eyes travelling down your body. “Stop staring,” you said with a huff as Lando shrugged. “I’m not staring,” he said, even having the audacity to continue staring as he said that. What a jerk. In an affectionate way.

“Finally,” he sighed, watching as you put the book down. Lando didn’t even hesitate, wrapping his arms round your torso and bringing you into his side, a giggle on your lips as he did so. “Took you ages, Y/N,” he huffed.

“Sass me again and I’m going back to reading,” you said, flicking him as if to say ‘cut the attitude!’. “Sorry,” he sighed, shaking his head, curls fluffing against your cheek as he did so. “You’re so gorgeous,” he mumbled, his eyes on your face, tracing the contour of your face, the way your eyes sparkled…wow.

“You’re handsome too, mister,” you said, a little smile on your face as he pressed a kiss to your jaw. “Love you,” Lando said, as you smiled to him, lips pressed to the edge of his own. “Love you too,” you said, the last word lost between Lando’s lips as he pressed to you.

“So gorgeous,” he mumbled, lips moving across yours, his tongue peeking out to dampen your lips as well as his own, pressing between your lips, diving into your mouth. The feeling was almost unrealistic, having Lando turn you slightly so he was above you.

“Love you,” he repeated, almost like a chant as his tongue explored your mouth, delving into every crook of your own perfect little mouth. “So pretty,” he gasped, his eyes squeezed closed as you wrapped your arms round his neck, his body to yours.

It was like a harmony, both of you pulling back simultaneously to reach for air, before reaching back to the other, desperate for contact. It was almost like a reward when you finished your work, ready for your countless exams in university.

That was the price to pay for being gifted with such impressive brains. And you knew, at the end of the day, Lando always had your back, whether you failed them or not, he'd be there for you, to hold you and hug you through the night, kiss your pretty lips, wipe your tears away.

But you'd never fail anyways.

[songbirdseung]

sneaky / park sunghoon

where your secret not so secret boyfriend climbs through your window to see you after a long time genre fluff, est. relationship, tsundere bf hoon

it was a little past 10 pm, and you were sitting at your desk, drowning in notes, your room dimly lit by the soft glow of your bedside lamp. you were trying to stay focused, but the exhaustion from your long day was creeping in, making it hard to concentrate. the house was eerily quiet, with your parents having gone to bed hours ago. it wasn’t unusual for you to stay up late working, but tonight felt particularly tedious, like time was dragging.

just as you leaned back in your chair, contemplating whether to call it a night, a faint tapping sound came from the direction of your window. your head shot up, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. the noise came again, a little louder this time. cautiously, you stood up and walked over, pulling back the curtains. your eyes widened in shock when you saw a familiar figure standing on the narrow ledge outside your window—sunghoon, grinning like he hadn’t just risked his life to climb up there.

you immediately opened the window, allowing him to slip inside with a little too much ease. “what the hell are you doing here?” you whisper-yelled, trying to keep your voice down so you didn’t wake your parents. “are you crazy?”

“what does it look like i’m doing? i’m here to see you,” sunghoon replied casually, brushing off his jacket as if it were no big deal.

“yeah, i can see that, but you’re climbing through my window? at 10 pm?” you gave him an incredulous look, shutting the window behind him.

he smirked, clearly amused by your panic. “relax, i’ve done this before. it’s not like your parents are gonna check your room.”

“i don’t care! if they catch you, we’re both dead!” you hissed, crossing your arms. you couldn’t believe he thought sneaking into your room was some normal, everyday thing.

sunghoon just shrugged, kicking off his shoes and making his way to your bed. he flopped down onto it with a dramatic sigh, stretching out like he owned the place. “you’re overreacting. besides, i haven’t seen you in weeks. aren’t you happy to see me?”

you rolled your eyes but felt a flutter of warmth in your chest. sure, you were frustrated, but deep down, you were more than a little excited that he had gone through all this trouble just to see you. “well, yeah, i’m happy to see you, but this isn’t exactly how i imagined it.”

he chuckled, propping himself up on his elbows to look at you. “how did you imagine it then? me walking through your front door with a bouquet of flowers?”

“something like that,” you muttered, still shaking your head at his recklessness. “you really are unbelievable.”

“hey, i’m nothing if not creative,” he said, shooting you a playful wink. “come on, you can’t say this isn’t romantic.”

“it’s something,” you admitted with a small smile, trying to stay mad but failing miserably. “but seriously, what if someone sees you?”

“no one’s gonna see me. i’m practically a ninja,” he teased, making himself more comfortable on your bed. “besides, it’s not like i was gonna just sit at home all night. i had to come see you.”

you let out a sigh, unable to fight the grin forming on your lips. “you’re impossible.”

“and yet, you’re still dating me,” he shot back, his voice full of smugness.

you shook your head, walking over to your desk. “yeah, because i clearly have terrible taste in men.”

“hey, now,” sunghoon said, sitting up on your bed and giving you a mock-offended look. “that’s not what you said the last time we hung out.”

you laughed, glancing over your shoulder at him. “okay, maybe not, but that doesn’t mean you’re off the hook for climbing up my window like a maniac.”

“aww, c’mon, don’t be like that,” he pouted, scooting over and patting the space next to him. “i’m here now, so just come cuddle with me. you can finish your work later.”

“sunghoon, i have a paper due,” you protested, even though the idea of snuggling up with him sounded way more appealing than continuing to work.

“you’ve been working all night,” he countered, tugging at your arm until you reluctantly joined him on the bed. “just take a break. you deserve it.”

you sighed but let yourself relax into his embrace, resting your head on his shoulder. “you’re lucky you’re cute, otherwise i’d kick you out right now.”

he let out a low chuckle, wrapping his arms around you. “i know. i’m irresistible.”

you scoffed, shaking your head. “you really don’t give up, do you?”

“nope,” he said, popping the ‘p’ with a smug grin on his face.

the two of you settled into a comfortable silence, your bodies fitting together as if you hadn’t been apart for weeks. you missed this—the simplicity of being close, without the pressures of schedules and distance getting in the way. sunghoon was never the best at showing his emotions, but moments like this, where he went out of his way to be with you, spoke louder than words ever could.

after a while, you glanced up at him. “i still can’t believe you did this. i mean, this isn’t exactly your thing.”

sunghoon smirked down at you, one eyebrow quirking up. “what do you mean by that?”

you gave him a teasing look. “you know, the whole sneaking into my room, rom-com style. usually, you’re more… stoic.”

“are you saying i’m not romantic?” he asked, pretending to be offended.

“i’m just saying it’s new,” you teased, poking his side.

he let out a soft scoff, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. “just because i’m not cheesy doesn’t mean i can’t pull off the occasional grand gesture.”

“grand gesture, huh? sneaking through my window at 10 pm counts as a ‘grand gesture’ now?”

“absolutely,” he replied, his tone confident. “i risked my life climbing up here. i’d say that’s pretty impressive.”

you laughed, shaking your head. “okay, okay, i’ll give you that one. but you better not make this a habit.”

“no promises,” he said, his lips curling into a smirk. “i might just have to keep surprising you.”

you rolled your eyes, but the warmth in your chest was undeniable. “fine. but next time, use the front door.”

sunghoon chuckled, pulling you closer. “we’ll see.”

the two of you lay there for a while, the soft hum of the night filling the room. eventually, you broke the comfortable silence, looking up at him with a playful pout. “you know, you still haven’t apologized for giving me a heart attack by showing up out of nowhere.”

“apologized?” sunghoon raised an eyebrow, his tone full of faux innocence. “why would i apologize for being the best boyfriend ever?”

you huffed, nudging him with your elbow. “i think i deserve an apology. and maybe some kisses to make up for it.”

he smirked, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your lips. “fine, but only because you’re so needy.”

you laughed, tugging him back down for another kiss. “sure, hoon. whatever helps you sleep at night.”

he rolled his eyes but didn’t pull away, his lips lingering on yours for a little longer this time. “you’re lucky i like you,” he muttered, though the warmth in his eyes gave away more than he’d ever admit.

“i know,” you teased, pressing one more kiss to his cheek. “and i’m lucky you’re crazy enough to climb through my window just to see me.”

“yeah, well,” he said, his voice dropping to a soft murmur, “i’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

[stormyelliotwritez]

fic where ftm reader is logan’s gay (re)awakening when he sees r in his 2000 pickup truck blasting old rock in his flannel and jeans and logan just heart eyes and needs to be with this man Immediately.

(i say reawakening bc lets be real hes like 200 he mightve already realized hes a 🚬 before but needed like. a reminder)

AAAAAAHHHHHH literally my fav trope ever - i did a similar one to this btw called logan and his hot guy friend - also i made reader a handyman type guy coz funsies

He may be a bit ooc but i ain’t sure

i need to get more photos coz i keep reusing them

Old rock and a 2000’s pickup truck? 😍

It had been a long long day and Logan was walking home from the job he’d gotten after all that multiverse shit when a 2000’s pickup truck parked at the lights. He walked up next to it and raised an eyebrow as he heard the music. It was old rock or dad rock as Wade would say. He walked past the window and saw you. You were wearing a red flannel and faded blue jeans. He’d almost forgotten what it was like to like a guy.

He wandered home in a daze, only thinking about you in that pick up truck. Wade asked him if something was wrong and he couldn’t even answer. He just mumbled a no and then grabbed a beer. You looked so good in that flannel. He only saw you for a moment but you were his type alright.

A few days later, he took the same route home, hoping he’d see you and he did. You were parked this time with tools in the backseat. Against his better judgement, he walked up to your window and tapped on it. And against your better judgement, you rolled the window down and smiled at him.

“Your truck is a beauty,” he said with a smile.

“Thanks, I fixed her up myself,” you said back before patting the dashboard lovingly.

Logan took a glance at the tools in the back of your truck and chuckled to himself. “You a handyman?”

You nodded. “Guilty as charged. You needing something fixed?”

He chuckled. “Well now that I think of it, we’ve had a dodgy tap recently, my roommate and I.”

You chuckled and nodded. “I could drop by and see if it’s an easy fix?”

“Yeah, that’d be great, bub. We just live in the top apartment at the building with the blue door just over there so feel free to drop by whenever.”

You nodded and smiled again. “Well I gotta be off. I’ll drop by tomorrow.”

Logan smiled and waved as you drove off. He pumped his fist in the air, mimicking Wade, and grinned. Hell yeah, he was gonna get to see you again.

He walked back to the apartment and this time, he grabbed a beer and joined Wade on the couch. “You gotta skedaddle tomorrow so go work or something,” was all he said to Wade before the soccer game started.

The next day, Logan stayed home and made sure Wade was out the door by 8. The clock struck 10 and you knocked on the door like well… clockwork. He quickly opened the door and let you in.

“Hey, you’re here,” he smiled, “wasn’t sure if you’d turn up.”

You smiled and held up your bag. “Well I like getting paid.”

“And I like getting my tap fixed.”

You got to work and soon enough, you’d found the problem. You fixed it and when you stood up, Logan was standing in the doorway. He had a grin on his face and a beer in each hand. You hadn’t noticed how hot he was before but now he was standing there, wearing a white singlet and a brown flannel and looking super duper hot.

“That for me?”

He nodded and handed it over. “For a job well done, bub. And I’ll pay you as well of course.”

The two of you sat down and both had a beer. A bit after Logan finished his, he grabbed the money and handed it over. You stood up and contemplated leaving before turning back to him and chuckling awkwardly.

“You seeing anyone?”

Logan smiled and shook his head. “Thought you’d never ask, bub.”

You sat back down and leaned towards him, a smile on your lips. “Would you want to be seeing someone?”

“Is that someone you because I would love to be seeing you,” he said with a smirk as he leaned towards you.

When you leaned backwards and stretched, your shirt rode up and he saw your binder. He nodded to himself and leaned in a bit closer. “Haven’t dated a guy in a while so you wanna break me in again? We could listen to some rock?”

You chuckled and licked your lips before standing up and pulling your chair to next to him. You sat back down and shamelessly grabbed ahold of his hand and ran your fingers over it. “Absolutely, handsome.”

[portraitofalinkonfyre]

Burning Love

Chapter 5

Main Masterlist | Fic Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

The rest of the chain was outside by the time you managed to waddle downstairs, huddled around a cooking pot with Wild at the helm for breakfast.

"(Y/n)!" Wind greeted, waving you over with his bandaged arm, drawing the other's attention. You waved groggily, plopping down next to the youngest hero on a nearby log. "Is Four okay, we haven't seen him yet."

"You say that like we haven't been hearing him," Legend muttered with a scowl. You were too tired to defend Four's honor, so you just waved off the pantless hero with a scowl of your own.

"Well, he's alive."

"Goodie."

"Legend, I swear to Hylia—"

"OKay!" Warriors cut off your impending insult with a loud clap of his hands. "We'll continue this when everyone's had coffee, yeah?"

"Great plan," you shot him a thumbs up while Legend muttered something ineligible in the background. Wild materialized behind you with a cup of steaming goodness, handing it over wordlessly. "You're the man, Wild."

"I'm the man," he parroted, returning your high-five with the speed of a shooting arrow.

"So," Twilight interjected and the seriousness of the conversation instantly increased. "He's cleared for travel?"

"More or less," you sipped your coffee and felt a bit more Hylian than you did a minute ago. "I still haven't figured out what's going on with him," you paused, an idea hitting you harder than Wind's windhammer. "Time, didn't you mention a library being here?"

"The Town Archive," the oldest hero intoned, expression contemplative as he mulled over your idea. "I've visited it once before, but it's certainly old enough to have some information."

"It sounds like the best place to start," Sky joined the conversation with a hum. "We don't know how dangerous his ailment is, or even what it is, for that matter."

"I agree," said Hyrule, turning his curious gaze to Time. "How many books do you think it holds?"

"Hundreds, I'm sure," Time answered, tone curiously wistful, and if you weren't drooling at the thought of all that literature, you sure were when Wild passed you a bowl of egg-fried rice. He looked up with a resigned expression. "Four, how kind of you to join us."

You glanced back quick enough to watch Four half-stumble down the stairs, shuffling over in a distinct rendition of Wind's impression of a 'penguin'. "Good morning to you too, old man," he plopped down beside you and accepted Wild's procured bowl of rice with a grateful hum. "Where's my coffee?"

"You're too young to be drinking that," Legend replied, taking a very loud, very obnoxious sip of his own.

Four cocked his head, puzzled. "I'm am?"

"And I'm the Queen of Lorule."

"...You're not?"

"No."

"That's... unfortunate."

"Sigh."

"Anyways, what were we talking about?"

"You, short stack," said Warriors. "We were about to ask if you wanted to stay behind and recuperate?"

"Why would I?"

Warriors deadpanned. "You're not exactly at one-hundred percent, and someone's got to protect (Y/n)—"

"Um, rude," you crossed your arms over your chest, your spoon sticking out of your mouth like a pipe. "Bold of you to assume I'm not coming with."

Silence.

"Jeez, tough crowd..."

"You're tough," you retorted before realizing that wasn't the insult you'd been hoping for. "Anyways, the library might be our only shot at helping you, Four," you said, bumping shoulders and ignoring the withering gaze Twilight sent the shorter hero. "And! Books!"

"Can't miss out on that," the blacksmith responded with a grin.

"It seems we've come to an agreement," Time observed. "We leave in ten," he paused at Wind's puppy dog eyes, sighed, and somehow managed to look five years older. "...or when Wind has finished his breakfast."

Everyone cheered as Wind brought his spoon to his mouth in slow motion.

The town archive was unlike anything you'd seen before. Tall and imposing, its shadows towered way over your approaching group. Four's side was warm against your bare arm as you led him forward, not for lack of trust, but after seeing him wobble down the inn stairs, you were taking no chances.

"Woah," Four breathed. "It's bigger than my old forge."

"Yeah?"

"Definitely."

"Are you sure? You're not pulling my leg?"

"I think you'd know if I was pulling your leg."

"I hate you both," muttered Legend, and you didn't need to see his face to feel his undoubtedly dark glare burning holes into your back.

"Aw, let them be," Wind came to your rescue. He looked at you and winked. "He's just upset because he had to listen to some couple flirt last night."

"Wind."

"Sorry, we," he amended sassily. "had to listen to some couple flirt last night."

"...Was it good?" You asked with mounting terror.

"Not at all, but we're not allowed to talk about that."

"For good reason," Legend hissed. "It was the worst thing I've had the displeasure of hearing, and I've listened to Wind snoring."

"Hey!"

"We're here," Time announced, and you'd never been more grateful for a subject change.

The heavy wooden doors creaked open, the rusty metal plaque on the right one glinting softly in the sunlight. Squinting with all your might, you managed to make the scrawled lettering out to be "Town Archive", which was about as accurate as you could get here.

The group shuffled in, and you were instantaneously impressed at the impossibly large bookshelves lining every veritable wall, closing in on the lectern in the center in ordered rows. "Wow," you said in awe, deftly release of Four to peruse the massive directory on said lecture. Your hands glided the leather cover of the colossal book, only pausing to sneeze when you opened it and a cloud of dust shot forth. Most of the boys had begun to scatter, chatting individually about what they hoped to find—though you were sorely tempted to scream that libraries didn't have Lizalfo talons when you heard Wild make that particular quip—but Twilight, Time, and Four remained silently by the entrance.

"How many trees you reckon it takes to make a book that big?" Twilight asked in a hushed tone.

"More than one," was Four's response. "A big one... or four small ones."

Your eye twitched at the nonsensical exchange, but you forced yourself to refocus on the directory.

"...Why are you like this?" Time sounded as exasperated as you felt.

Your pointer finger traced down the 'D' list, eyes scanning over every title with fading interest. You had already searched over ten pages, and not a single thing had stood out among the dizzying selection. It was beginning to seem that you would never find an answer to the conundrum, which was as painful as it was maddening. As a medic, it was your sworn duty to help the sick, even more when the sick person in question was your dear friend, and you were determined to not add to your list of regrets.

Until you flipped to a random page, seconds from burying your head in your hands, and something finally caught your eye.

"I found it!"

"Found what?" Four appeared at your side almost instantaneously, flanked by Time and Twilight.

You tapped the scrawled title with a blossoming grin. "'The Complete Guide To Hyrule's Races'!"

"That sounds promising," Time's expression was curious. "Do you think you can find it?"

"I can try," you shut the book, the pages thudding together with a thud of finality. "The directory said it should be on the second shelf in one of the back rows, so I'll start there."

The heroes bade you good luck as you headed off in search of your prize. Twilight grunted softly as soon as your cape fluttered from view. "Ya know yer only diggin' yourself into a bigger hole, right?"

"Huh?" Four's face was the picture of confusion, but Twilight knew it was all a ruse.

"Don't play dumb," he chided. "Ya haven't given it any thought?"

Four's gaze flicked between the two heroes, and Time, who looked as though he had seen enough, motioned them to one of the quieter corners of the library. "Now," the older hero's gaze felt like a piercing beam. "What's this all about?"

Twilight snorted, tossing his head in Four's direction. "Wouldn't be about nothin' if he would man up already."

Time stared at the smaller hero, clearly demanding an answer with the sheer force of his mind alone. Too bad that Four didn't feel like passing out details of his (nonexistent) sex life like they were candy.

"It's no one's business, old man," he crossed his arms over his chest, expression a nigh-perfect recreation of Legend's resting-bitch face. "And that's final."

"It's only goin' to get worse," Twilight ran a hand down his face, eyes turned to the ceiling in a plea for divine intervention. "An' it's that medic's business, too."

"What about (Y/n)?" Time's gaze hardened protectively; the old man cared for you and it showed clearer than day on his scarred face. "Four."

"Don't," the smithy fixed him with an unusually harsh glare. Time's working eye narrowed; something was amiss and he was determined to find it. "You're not part of this, none of you are."

"So ya admit it's a problem?" Twilight interjected.

"No!" Four snapped. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I need more time, you can't expect me to..."

"We aren't expecting you to do anything," Time said slowly, looking equal parts ready to throttle someone and offer one of them a hug, just as Twilight muttered under his breath: "'cept what's right for ya and that medic."

Four bristled. "It's not like that."

"It could be."

"I can't— you have no idea about any of this," the smithy's face was growing redder and redder, irises flashing blue, as he growled. "S-So stay out of it!"

"Oh, we have some idea," Twilight shot back. "Don't tell me ya've forgotten our conversation?"

Four's expression twisted in discomfort, but it was quickly replaced by annoyance. "How could I forget?" he snarked. "You know they're not—"

A memory of last night flashed in his mind's eye, but Four dismissed it; there was no way you saw him... like that, he wanted to scream. You were just too nice for your own good. He tried not to think of the way your gaze roved his body when he undressed, chalking it up to misplaced curiosity. How could you want him when there were so many other options, as much as it pained him to think it?

"—it's fine, I'm going outside."

Twilight opened his mouth to fire back, only pausing when Time laid a hand on the rancher's shoulder, shaking his head with a somewhat defeated expression. Twilight huffed, but held his tongue.

Until cheery footsteps broke through the silence and your head peeked around a nearby bookshelf. You grinning vibrantly when you caught sight of them, and it was the most beautiful thing Four had seen in his life. "There you are, I can't believe you all disappeared on me like that!"

"Sorry," Four said rather sheepishly. His gaze snapped to the crumpled sheet of paper in your right hand. "What's that?"

You shrugged, holding it out for him to examine. Twilight shifted closer, subtly sniffing with a look of barely disguised interest. "I thought notes from a scholar would be more useful than a textbook, is all."

"It was a textbook?" Time questioned, and you made a face.

"Unfortunately," you grimaced harder. "I've seen enough of those things to last a few lifetimes."

"We can tell," Twilight observed, tipping his head to the barely legible symbols covering the page. Four wrinkled his nose, slightly miffed at the unfamiliar language. "Can ya read it?"

"A bit," you answered. "It's written in ancient Hylian."

"Ancient, huh?" Twilight leveled a knowing look in Four's direction. The shorter hero growled and shoved at his chest, and the rancher surrendered with a guffaw. "Ah'right, ah'right!"

"Do I even want to know?" you deadpanned.

Crash!

"Fuck!" came Wild's distinct screech, and you nearly tripped over yourself rushing to the source of the noise. Four moved to follow, but halted when Time's hand sealed around his wrist.

"Four."

"Let me go."

"What is it, exactly, that you are afraid of?"

Four's eyes narrowed. "I'm not afraid."

"Ya are," Twilight joined the fray with a jaded frown.

Four tried yanking his arm away, but Time's grip held true. "What do you know? It's not like you—"

"Wrong," the rancher interrupted tersely. "'M trying to help ya because I am the only one."

Four froze. Surely he couldn't be implying...

"Don't give me that look," Twilight drew closer, towering over the smithy with a distinct wildness in his usually calm eyes. "Ya never thought ta' question why I leave fer a week every six months, or why I don't go off alone with yer little medic?"

"Y-You don't like (Y/n)?" Four was at a complete loss for words as the realization hit him harder than one of Wild's bombs. "How—"

"This ain't about me," Twilight's tone took on a distinct snarl that had Four wondering how he hadn't connected the dots in the first place. "It's about you and yer problem with makin' things easy on yerself. Ya think distance will make everythin' fine an' dandy? I can promise ya, it won't."

"But—"

"You can only deny yer nature for so long," there was a distinct sliver of regret in the older hero's tone that made Four wonder what exactly the rancher had experienced to look that way. "An' once it's gone, you're never going to get it back."

"Guys!"

All heads turned to you, and Four felt the inexplicable urge to gather you in his arms and never let go. Until he noticed your panicked expression and lack of paper. "Come on," you urged hurriedly. "We've got to get the hell out of here."

"What happened?" asked Time, beating Four by a millisecond.

Your expression turned grave. "Lizalfos,"

"In the library?!"

Sigh. He'll get it eventually. ALSO Twi, you dog!

Just as a disclaimer, I've never played OOT so I have no idea if the term 'town archive' even exists in their world, but I'm going to pretend it does for the sake of the smut.

[sunnynwanda]

Trouble of Mind: Part 2

Part 1

Warnings: failed brainwashing, mental exhaustion, tormented Villain (and Hero)

When the door creaks open in front of them, Hero is still deep in thought, frantically searching for whatever to say, which Villain seems to understand because they nod, gesturing for them to come inside. Without a word, they walk down the corridor, leading Hero to their bedroom.

It's dark inside, heavy curtains blocking any remnants of light outside - another thing physically painful to them in the current state. It takes a few moments for Hero's vision to adjust, but once it does, they notice a couch across from Villain's bed, already prepared for them. "How did you..?"

"Know you'd come?" Villain finishes for them, rubbing a hand over their eyebrows with a sympathetic sigh. "I know how it feels when it's your first time dealing with this."

"Is it bad again?" Hero asks carefully. There's another question lingering on the tip of their tongue; Villain can sense it. "It's because of me, isn't it? My interference?" Hero finally gathers the courage, their heart and mind racing as if in a competition as they wait for Villain's answer.

Villain nods shortly, turning away to search for the essential oils, to keep their hands busy and mind occupied. They don't blame Hero, not really. In fact, they are grateful that Hero hadn't read their mind in all their years of battling. That's more respect for their privacy than they received in the dungeons of the ministry.

"I'm sorry," Hero mutters, their voice dripping with guilt. They fail to come up with words after everything they have witnessed in Villain's twisted mind. All Hero knows is that they are relieved a large part of it has been suppressed by Villain's defense mechanisms.

Villain sighs, fully aware of their nemesis' regret over the situation. They allow their gaze to linger on Hero's troubled expression before speaking. "I don't blame you."

"You should," Hero states simply, leaning back against the back of the sofa. Their head drops against the headrest, eyes falling shut. No wonder Villain prefers to attack at night, they think. Who would have thought, light could be a vicious type of torture?

For several moments, they remain silent, heavy breathing being the only noise in the room. Villain moves to sit on their bed, contemplating whether they want to know the answer to the question that has formed in their ragged mind.

"How deep did you get?" They finally whisper, not wanting to startle Hero. They wonder if their phrasing made sense and are about to clarify when Hero's faint voice cuts the air.

"Unconscious."

Villain almost smiles, leaning back against the mattress and allowing their eyes to fall shut. "I know. How deep?"

"All of it," Hero lifts their head, glancing in the general direction of the bed. They can barely make out Villain's shape on it.

"Tell me," Villain interrupts their thoughts again. When Hero hums in apparent confusion, they clarify. "Tell me what you saw."

Hero almost chokes on the air, sitting upright despite the heavy pounding in their temples. "W-why?" They stutter out, already regretting their visit.

"I want to know what's in there." It's a simple sentence, but it claws at Villain's throat, unwilling to be uttered. They force the words out, turning their head to look at Hero's form on their sofa.

Hero's voice is guarded when they finally respond. "You had repressed it for a reason, Villain."

"Hero, you, of all people, know it's going to haunt me forever unless I deal with it," Villain counters, earning a quiet grunt from their nemesis.

"You can't deal with what's in there," they mutter, rubbing a hand over their face. A part of them knows Villain is right - the same one that is spurring them to try and undo some of the damage, to give Villain a chance of a clear mind. But there is another one. One that is scared of making it worse, both for Villain and themself. One that is terrified of even the thought of going through the darkness behind Villain's gaze again. One that cannot bear the pain that comes with it.

"Please," Villain speaks again, causing Hero to flinch at their selfishness as they are dragged out of their mind. How dare they be scared for their own well-being when Villain is... "Please," Villain whispers, the pleading tone cutting through Hero's chest.

"Villain, I-" They cut off, springing to their feet in a rush of anxiety. "Okay, if you want to do it, I can, um... try to unearth those things and undo some of the damage, but.."

"But what?" Villain asks, getting up as well. They are acting equal parts excited and reckless, and they know it.

"Some things might be too much," Hero starts, pacing through the bedroom in broad strides. "It might not work, or go wrong, or..."

Villain reaches out, stopping their panicked race from the door to the window and back, "I don't care."

They try to reassure Hero with a slight curve of their lips. But that only makes Hero explode. "I do! I don't want to cause more damage than there already is!"

It's a fair concern, Villain admits to themself. But they are far past the point of no return. "Hero, I was brainwashed, but it failed. The things done to my head are much worse than you taking a peak or even a walk."

"It's not- Christ, you don't understand!" Hero exclaims in utter frustration. They are scared, Villain understands. With a soft exhale, they place a hand on Hero's forearm, drawing them closer.

"You've seen what the nightmares are like," Villain's voice is low and pained; their fingers cold against Hero's skin. "That's every day for me. Every damn day. For six years now. I can't take it anymore, so if there's a way for you to fix it, I'll take the risk."

"I could damage you permanently," Hero protests, but it's weak. They know the hell that Villain lives in - they've seen it firsthand.

"I don't care," Villain shrugs with annoying nonchalance. "I'd rather lose my mind than keep going through this."

"Fine," Hero growls, sure that they will come to regret this decision. "Alright, fine."

As soon as they agree, Villain's demeanour changes. "What do you want me to do?"

"Lie down," Hero mutters, solemn. They wait for them to get onto the bed before sitting by their side and cradling their face with both hands.

"I want you to look into my eyes and think of the last thing you remember before the, um... experiment on you," they instruct, the internal battle still raging within them. But there is no way back now. Not after they gave Villain hope.

"Okay," Villain nods, meeting Hero's gaze with their tormented one.

"I'll get you through this," Hero continues to hold their head, and, as tender as they can, they delve into Villain's mind, only this time it's more intentional and slow. Layer by layer, they go deeper, diving into Villain's mind with gentle determination. They live through every day Villain spent in the dungeons, watching the light bulb spin around, circling them until they are reduced into hypnosis. Then come the sedatives, the withdrawal delirium, electricity, waterboarding, the light bulb again, sedatives, water...

Villain blacks out by the time Hero reaches the end of their torment - the day they escaped from the ground floor of the ministry six years ago, with a broken mind and unabashed rage against everything that place represented. Hero falls against the mattress, their entire being pierced by a phantom ache. They bury their face into the pillow, muffling the shuddering sobs ripping out from their throat.

Villain knows something is off the moment they gain some sort of awareness in the morning. They aren't entirely awake yet, but they can tell. They can feel it. Something feels off. Or better yet, it feels right. Right, and light, and clear... Gods, their head feels clear. Their blood stills at the thought, eyes flying open like they've been burnt. They glance around in agitated disbelief, only to freeze again, this time from the sight of Hero by their side. On their bed, curled into a ball. In any other situation, Villain would raise a brow and possibly tease Hero for the fetal position, but not today. They shift, leaning over their nemesis and cupping Hero's cheek. There are wet patches on their pillow - from crying themselves to sleep, Villain deduces, letting out a shaky exhale before pulling the covers up. They tuck Hero in, then lower themself back onto the bed, allowing their fingers to gently trace Hero's features.

They know their mind is not fully dealt with. They know there will be lingering nightmares for both them and Hero. They know it's far from over. But they also know that they won't be going through it alone. Not anymore.

Part 1

Masterlist

Taglist: @marvellousdaisy@alltimelowing@lateuplight@surplus-of-sarcasm@betwist @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @enemies-to-idiots-to-lovers @miaowmelodie @thatonerandomauthor @hhabaddon @burningoutlikeicarus @daemonvatis @weepingcowboywolfbat @thelazywitchphotographer @kaiwewi @soul-of-a-local-bard @pigeonwhumps @aflyingsheepnamedrose @thatneptune @ohwellthatslifesstuff @worldsfromhoney @thiefofthecrowns @crow-with-a-typewriter @qualityrabbitsoup @stargeode @villain-life @villainsblood @whumpifi @glassthedumbass @silviathebard @misskowe @ayeshaturnedtoashes4444 @m4iloblu3 @silky-worm @doctorsawyer @philosophershroomie

Special tags: @m4iloblu3 @silky-worm @doctorsawyer @philosophershroomie

[matcha-milkies]

WELL, YOU DID ASK

Summary: Aboard the Stan-O’-War II, Stan finds out and confronts Ford about his past relationship with Bill.

Alternatively: “Ford, why did Bill call you babygirl?”

Relationships: Sea Grunkles, Bill Cipher/Ford Pines (Mentioned)

Content Warnings: Implied/Referenced Sex

Tags: Humor, Light Angst, Banter

Inspired By: This Meme and This Comic

Word Count: 2,489

Link to AO3: Here

A/N: Yeah it’s been a HOT MINUTE five years since I watched Gravity Falls, and I’m still waiting on my copy of Book of Bill, so I’m sorry if there are any inconsistencies with canon in this. I was riffing hard off of secondhand material lol

Stan stares up at the top bunk as the room gently sways from side to side, a cabin cradled in the bosom of the ocean. He’s lying face up on his cot, hands on his abdomen, and he’s contemplating something very deeply. It’s unnerving, this thing. He almost wishes he could forget all about it. Almost.

He bites his bottom lip and deliberates over what to do about this. He could just leave it alone. Things have been good lately. Why rock the boat, so to speak? They could go about their day, have their coffee, cast their lines into the sea, fry that leftover kraken meat for dinner. Blegh, he’s so sick of kraken meat. He’s going to have to find a way to season that thing to spice it up a bit or else he’s gonna go crazy. Why do krakens have to be so enormous anyway?

Yeah, he could do that. He could be normal.

After all, if the answer is no, then there’s nothing to worry about in the first place. And if the answer is yes… does he really want to know about it? What is he going to do, where is he going to go from there? Ask for details? He’s racked by a fullbody shudder. As if.

But deep down, he knows he’s kidding himself. If he doesn’t confront his brother, then this is going to linger in the back of Stan’s mind for all of eternity. He won’t be able to look at his twin without pondering all the ‘why’s. Why him? Why didn’t you tell me?

Stan hauls himself to a sitting position and swings his legs over the side of his bunk. He stares at the wall for a little bit, mouth quirked to the side. The Stan-O’-War II creaks, as if it’s also pondering to itself. He can hear his brother rustling papers a ways away in the other room. It’s a small boat. Of course it is. There’s only two of them to man it.

Stan starts to walk into the other room, then turns around and changes course at the last second, heading above deck instead. Hopefully his twin was too preoccupied with his work to notice. Stan walks over to the port side and leans his arms against the railing with a sigh. It’s a nice day out, at least. The sun is shining high in the sky with only a few clouds drifting overhead. They’re somewhere off the coast of Canada.

Somewhere further south but still along the same coast are his great niece and nephew, going to school again. He wonders how they’re doing. He wishes he could call them. He misses them, but he also wants to take his mind off of this. He hears footsteps pacing below deck, probably to grab a book off a shelf or something, because they soon pace right back to where the desk would be. 

Stan lowers his head until his forehead is against the railing and sighs. He’s probably going to have to ask. The thing he’s dreading is knowing that it’s not gonna go over well. He gives it maybe another ten minutes to psyche himself up, then turns and tramps back down the stairs.

Ford is situated at his desk (it’s not anyone’s desk but really it’s Ford’s desk), sifting through some old creased pages that look like they’re about to disintegrate at the slightest breeze. On his right-hand side is a cold, half-finished cup of joe. Occasionally, he mutters something to himself and pens something in his new journal. He’s entirely absorbed. He doesn’t even seem to notice when Stan appears in the doorway and leans his elbow against it.

“Uh, hey, Sixer, how’s it goin’ in here?”

Ford starts. The pen drops from his hand and rolls around on the swaying floor. “Stanley, how many times do I have to tell you not to sneak up like that?”

“I didn’t sneak up on you. I’m notoriously loud. You’re the one with your nose glued to that journal.”

“I–” Ford’s breath catches in his throat before he lets it out in a sigh. “I suppose you have a point. I’m sorry, Stanley. I’m just frustrated at how little progress I’ve made with this. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen.”

“You know you say that, like, every time we find some weird thing, right?”

“I didn’t think we would encounter this many paranormal phenomena outside of Gravity Falls.”

“Maybe you’re the weirdness magnet.”

“Perhaps both of us are. After all, you were the one living in my shack for all those years pretending to be me.”

“Ha, yeah…” Stan musses his own hair. “Must run in the family.”

“Anyway–” after stooping to pick up the pen, Ford seats himself at the desk again– “you know I always appreciate your company, Stan, but I’d like to make some real headway before dinner if at all possible.”

“Uh, well, actually,” Stan says, and Ford glances up with a raised brow.

“What is it? Don’t tell me you accidentally dropped something overboard,” replies Ford, testing the temperature of his coffee. He looks displeased at the result but nevertheless continues to sip it anyway.

“Relax, relax, it’s nothing like that. Sheesh, are you ever gonna let me live that down?”

“It happened yesterday.”

“Ancient history!” Eh, might as well spit it out, right? “Hey, speaking of ancient history, what was going on with you and Bill?”

Ford makes some sort of choking sound and dribbles coffee back into his cup. He casts about for a napkin or a towel. “What do you mean by that?”

“Were you like, just a fling, boyfriend-boyfriend, married? What was going on there?”

Ford sputters, gives up and rolls up his sleeve to wipe his mouth on his bare arm. His voice cracks a little as he speaks. “What- What do you- What do- Why would you–”

“Look, don’t play dumb with me, IQ. When he was in my head, he said some things. And I didn’t think much of it at the time, but see, now I got nothing but time out here on this tin can, and I…”

His twin finally manages to school himself back into neutrality, although they’re both well aware it’s too late. He’s already shown his hand. All he can do is pretend, deny, for whatever that gets him. He spares Stan a glance over his spectacles, and it seems to last an eternity, before the man finally returns his gaze to his notes. “Now is not the time to talk about this.” Oh. Okay. So not even a denial then.

“Uh, right. Sure. And when exactly is the right time gonna be?”

Ford pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs with a kind of bone-deep exhaustion. “I don’t know, Stanley, any time I’m not trying to decipher the code that we found etched onto the side of that washed up precolonial artifact last week?”

“Well, I don’t know why it needs to be a whole song and dance, Einstein, it’s a simple question.”

“Yes, we were… romantically involved. Obviously. Now please leave me in peace.” Not that he had expected that answer to buy him anything, but he still finds himself chagrined when Stan stubbornly continues his line of questioning.

“Why didn’t you tell me about that?”

“I didn’t think it pertinent.” Ford closes the book on his left-hand side, resigning himself to the unfortunate reality that this conversation is happening, and there is no walking away from it. Where would he even escape to? They’re stuck on a boat together until they land at the next port.

“You didn’t think I’d wanna know you were getting… close with the literal demon that tried to kill us?”

“He wasn’t trying to kill us when I was getting to know him. Again, this should be obvious, Stanley. I don’t know why you’re making me spell it all out for you.” He strangles the air, vibrating with more frustration than he can dissipate. “Unless it’s just to torture me, which I wouldn’t put past you.”

“What is that supposed to mean? After all the things I’ve done for you, all I’m asking for here is a little honesty.”

Ford very graciously decides not to dwell on the “all the things I’ve done for you” bit and reopen that particular wound. Instead, he doffs his glasses, the better to massage his forehead.

“Oh, for the love of… We’re in our 60s, Stan.” He unfurls his arms on the table, palms upward. “What did you want me to do, honestly? You wanted me to sit you down and tell you about my crush like we’re still in high school?”

There’s something in the sincerity of his tone that throws Stan off kilter, disarms him.

“I’m not sayin’ that! I just— You’re makin’ it sound more unreasonable than it is! I’m still your twin and I thought you trusted me with this kinda thing.”

Ford pushes his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. He stares at a point just past Stan’s shoulder, mouth flattened into a line. “Oh, god,” he laments, as it dawns on him that the emotionally mature thing to do is to be vulnerable. He sighs, busying his hands by straightening all the papers on his desk. “It’s embarrassing. It was already embarrassing, don’t you see? And this just makes it so much worse.”

“What?” Stan pulls up a chair and sits across from his twin. “Sixer, come on. You think I came in here and brought this up just to laugh at you? I mean, don’t get me wrong, it is objectively very funny, hilarious even—” he grins in the face of Ford’s glare— “but the last thing I’m gonna do is judge you. Between you and me, I think your relationship with that freaky triangle was more stable than anything I’ve ever had with any human.”

“Stable is not the word I would use to describe anything that went on in that shack in the 1980s.”

“Yeah, that just goes to show how low the bar is. Anyway, my point is, while I’m not gonna laugh at you, I definitely will still laugh.”

The scientist raises an unamused brow. “With me, you mean?”

“No, I’m just gonna laugh. Ha! Ha-ha!” Stan reaches across the desk to nudge Ford with his elbow. “Come on, it’s funny! You had a relationship with a triangle! Oh, the kids are gonna be so traumatized!”

“Wh- D- Stan, don’t tell them!”

“Why not? Dipper worships the ground you walk on. This won’t change anything for him. And Mabel… well, Mabel will laugh too actually. Very hard.” He brings a hand to his chin and narrows his eyes. “Or worse, she’ll start shipping you.”

“What does that even mean? She’s going to ship me? Where? How?”

“Uh, not important, and for all intents and purposes, I do not know what that word means either. Look, I’m just pulling your leg, Poindexter. I won’t tell them if you don’t want me to. It’s your business.”

“You honestly mean that?”

Stan sweeps an arm through the air with finality. “It’s your own business and nobody else’s. Look, I’m—” He finds himself rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry for pushing you about this. It’s not something you’d wanna look back on, I get it.”

“Oh.” Ford doesn’t really know what to do with that so he resumes straightening papers even though they’ve been straight for the past three minutes. “I’m not used to fights ending like this.”

“Yeah, me neither. It’s weird. It’s like we emotionally matured or something.”

“Something like that,” Ford agrees.

They lapse into awkward silence. That should've been the end of it, and yet.

“I guess I just don’t get it,” Stan admits.

“What don’t you understand, Stanley?”

“He’s a— Well, he’s a little two-dimensional, don’t you think?”

“It was an extremely intellectual affair, Stan. Physicality had very little to do with it.” Well, that isn’t entirely true but his brother doesn’t need to know about any of that.

“You know what, I’d believe that. I’m just having trouble envisioning what it… what it was like.”

“Why are you trying to envision that?”

“Because it’s weird, Ford! It’s weird and morbidly fascinating. It’s like a train wreck, I can’t look away.”

“Do you have any more questions? So that I can answer them and we can be done talking about this forever?”

“So you… you never… y'know…”

“No,” Ford says about five seconds too late. There’s heat rising to his cheeks and he smothers his face with his hands as Stan sits slack-jawed in abject horror.

“What? Wait, seriously? How did that even work?”

“Ask me something else.”

“Okay. For scientific purposes, hypothetically, in a hypothetical situation, how would a human with glasses and a triangular demon go about—”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Stan!”

“God had nothin’ to do with it, I know that much.” Stan leans back in his chair, then eyes Ford suspiciously. “Wait. He didn’t possess someone else, did he?”

“No!” Ford sounds genuinely horrified. “How depraved do you think I am? That would be tantamount to— I wouldn’t do that. Do you really think so lowly of me?”

“I mean, they could’ve consented beforehand anyway, right? That’s all I’m saying. Although, Sixer, I cannot stress this enough: You locked yourself in a cabin in the middle of Nowhere, Oregon and started drawing freaky symbols on the floor and communing with a literal demon. I think I’m allowed to be a little concerned.”

“Well– Sure, when you put it like that, it sounds more occult than scientific, but I can assure you my methodology was very sound.”

“Oh, okay, good. I’m glad your methodology was sound. That was the main thing I was worried about.”

“May I return to my cipher now?”

“Your Cipher, huh?”

Ford stares pointedly at his twin, trying to telepathically communicate how exhausting this conversation is.

“I just need to know how you did it. It’s gonna keep me up at night.”

“I fail to see how that’s my issue.”

“And then I’ll keep you up at night.”

“And then I’ll throw you overboard so that you can find that notebook you lost!”

“And then I’ll haunt you from the watery grave, you know I will. Besides, it’s laughable you think you could throw me overboard, Poindexter.”

“You really want to know?”

“For my own peace of mind, please.”

Ford sighs deeply, eyes shifting from wall to wall, as though afraid someone’s eavesdropping. Maybe he’s paranoid that a mermaid is listening in from outside. He gestures for Stan to lean in closer, cups his hands to his ear and whispers for a few seconds. Stan’s expression becomes unreadable.

“Oh. Wow. Creative. Okay. Welp. That answers that.” He claps his hands together as if to dispel dirt. “Say, you wouldn’t happen to have another one of those memory-wiping guns?”

[elitadream]

Hi! I saw @living-the-dream-yall's ask and just wanted to say I 100% agree! Your interpretations of these characters are one of a kind and captivating, and the art is top tier. I confess, I've stared at some of your artwork longer than I usually do, and tried to take some inspiration from it on a few occasions. For example, I contemplated your beautiful drawing of the Mario Bros. touching foreheads for a while before attempting to draw that gesture for the first time myself.

My first encounter with your art was when I found @drones-of-innocence's fic Sing For Absolution (came for the Muse reference, stayed for the incredible writing and art alike). And by now I'm pretty sure that I've seen every piece you've ever shared.

Like I told you before, a big fan of yours here :D I just admire your art style and characterization so much, and don't even get me started on your amazing Body Swap AU. It's so good! I love how many fanworks were inspired by it.

No matter what direction you're taking your blog now, I just want you to know how much I appreciate all that you've created and shared. It's so nice to finally be able to tell you all of this directly, and thank you so much for becoming my mutual. I'm not exaggerating when I say it's an honor!

Wow, thanks a lot!! 🤩 I really appreciate the wonderful feedback. Knowing you've taken inspiration from my work is incredibly flattering. ☺️💖 And omg the body-swap AU! x3 That was a fun one haha, and people's participation made it even better. 🙌

I did keep everything up for a while before taking it all down, so you're probably right! The only pieces you guys haven't seen are the ones I had finished but hadn't yet posted before my batteries abruptly went dead. >< If anything, it was a sure sign I needed to slow down. 👀😅

Thank you again for leaving such a nice and thoughtful message. I keep some very fond memories of my time spent in the Mario fandom as a creator and it's thanks to all of you. 🤗✨ Also you're very welcome! It was my pleasure. 😁

[pixelatedraindrops]

Yuma Month: Day 20: Truth

The truth…is uglier than you could have ever expected.

tw // vomit (spoilers too)

...happens only if he ate a meat bun prior to this

(all vomit in rain code is censored in pink glitter ✨)

based on this post I made long back

[recurring-polynya]

Hi ! I originally found you through your Ikkayumi fic you posted, and I was sooo very happy to find that you had so many renruki fics/were a regular author that focused on them !

I reel over any fic that focuses on whatever Renji was doing in the space between him and Rukia disconnecting, and especially whatever that man was doing in his stint at squad eleven back then.

I think that Renji is only helplessly pathetic whenever it comes to Rukia, and I always wonder what he did to cope with that ( if he successfully coped with it at all ) in her absence, or how long he managed to avoid talking about her. For as much as he was around them, I’d like to imagine he probably caved and dumped that info off on Ikkaku or Yumichika at some point. Unfortunately, both of them are emotionally constipated people, and they’ve got no idea what the hell to do to cheer him up bc they’re not the kind of guys who are great at emotional kouhai support.

They collaborate on a miraculously decent plan to get their guy out of the dumps, and though the plan is pretty great, shit hits the fan and it all falls to pieces. Renji enjoys every minute of it, even though he’s got no idea what they’re doing, and ends up satisfied with their horrible attempt because he knows this isn’t their specialty but because they do care.

I always juggle between hyper fixating on either of them, but as much as I enjoy both pairings, the best thing is always getting to see any match of them interacting with each other.

Thank you in advance for taking the time to read this if you do !! I seriously admire your writing and I appreciate your dedication to Rukia and Renji, and I love how canonically accurate you write them. Your fics always really make my day, so thank you for sharing as well !

Thank you so much!! I am also fascinated with this period of history. It's hard for me to write about, although I've made a few attempts.

Renji-without-Rukia is an interesting creature. Here's my take on it: I think that he's competent at least in the ways that are expected of Gotei officers, which is to say, he is very good at sticking his sword in things. On the other hand, he's also low-key self-destructive, in the way that you don't especially notice, especially if you're used to hanging out with the general populace of Squad 11. He's a fine soldier, hard-working, driven, even, but he lacks all of the qualities of the Renji we know now--his aura of friendship, his first-into-the-breach enthusiasm, his patience and empathy toward his younger squadmates. Of course, Ikkaku and Yumichika don't really know there's anything wrong with him, at least not at first, but the longer they get to know him, Yumichika, specifically, might realize that there's someone better buried down in there. Yumichika would probably break out in a rash if he tried to be kind to someone, especially to a youth, but there if there is a thing Yumichika will do, it is give beauty advice and so he started harassing Renji about his skincare and hair routines which you can't do if you can't learn to care about yourself, and that was a real turning point for Renji.

Personally, I think Renji was at Eleven for a long time before he told anyone about Rukia (the one exception was Iba, his roommate, who was frequently subjected to late-night rambles on her when Renji was absolutely sloshed, but Iba is Iba). I'm actually always very touched by the seriousness with which Kubo portrays Ikkaku and Yumichika's reactions to the Rukia story.

To me, the best way to cheer Renji up about all of this is to take his goals seriously and to otherwise just treat him like a normal member of the Eleventh, which is exactly what he needed at that time.

I'm really only an IkkaYumi casual at best, but one thing I do really like about them is that I think Renji sees them as the blueprint for the relationship he would like to have with Rukia: battle partners first and foremost, tough as Hell and twice as hot, different but complementary, two halves of one whole idiot. He is absolutely deranged for this, but I think it's very charming, and to be honest, I think Rukia would, too.

[sorealis]

More authors should embrace the "all three end up together" approach in love triangle situations

Cowards

[threadmonster]

Look, I know shizaya is so many Durarara!! fans OTP and all but I once again say. Wow. Like my guy. Izaya really thought "okay, I'll take this fight to the death into this big crowd. Even if I lose and he kills me, I still win. He'll be a monster. He'll go to jail and be a monster."

Disclaimer: I also ship them. I just really find this funny. Izaya is my favorite, but oh my goodness is he depressing. I would really like to know Izaya's feelings after the first series. I don't know yet if he appears in SH. I do know there's at least one novel for a spin-off him after the fight and disappearing. I haven't found where to read a translation of that. I wish the spin-offs and extra material would be serialized in English...

[wandaxpietro]

me, stressed and sick and trying desperately to finish writing fic in time bcuz of writer's block: ok but what if I start hosting scarletsilver week every year

[chiimeraangel]

it's coming up on that time of year where I rewatch Samurai Jack in its entirety...

[longagoitwastuesday]

I just read an article on The three musketeers and it has left me teary eyed

[southislandwren]

i was talking to my coworker and we were joking about how much the school farm sucked and i was like yeah lol sometimes i'd be drivign and think like lol what if i just crashed my car right now.... anyway someone tell me if that was too much for my very normal coworker. she thought it was funny though

[orcelito]

Managed to write 300 words for discacc 👍 which is 300 more words than I've managed to write in the past like. Week.

Hoping to start making progress again. We'll see.