#another self-indulgent chapter

[ruporas]

drank too much

[ID: Digital Art of Vash and Wolfwood from Trigun Maximum. Vash’s body is turned slightly away from the viewer as he holds a staggering Wolfwood by his shoulder. He has one foot ahead of the other, the foot in the back used to stabilize himself from tipping over. Wolfwood is tethering into Vash, his weight pressed into him with his arms wrapped around Vash’s waist and his face is hidden away as he leans against Vash’s shoulder. Vash’s expression can be seen, his eyes wide and mouth tight-lipped, and his face is flushed red. A speech bubble comes out from Wolfwood, saying a drawled “Spikeyyy...”. The background are desaturated pastels of blue and green, showing night time, as they stand in the middle of an empty street that is also lit by the moon not depicted. Yellow light is seen coming from the inside of a saloon. End ID]

[deiaiko]

#22.5 Cool down

Agni shifted his focus from Ran to the surrounding scene, listening to the light chatter regarding the game and their tags. To be honest, Agni was expecting them to bombard Bam with questions now that he was nearby, but he was left alone. The air around Bam seemed a little awkward, so maybe that was why. He hoped it'd get fixed in due time.

Still, it was interesting to see the discussion unfold as he took notes on everyone's unique quirks. The swish of Anaak's tail when Isu got uncomfortably touchy as he thanked Anaak for giving him back his tag. The way Endorsi boredly examined her nails when she got asked what she'd use her tags for. Or how Hatz kept his fists clenched but shoulders slouched, a hint that he had something to say but was still waiting for the right moment. Or how the younger him kept glancing at Bam, and Rak called him out on it like the croc wasn't doing the same thing.

Agni missed this, more than he ever thought he would. To be surrounded by the people he trusted, listening to their bickering like all those early years they were together. For so long, he thought it would never be possible anymore. To relieve this distant memory that he almost forgot the feeling of. To be able to witness it with Grace felt truly liberating, like a weight was lifted off his chest as a promise was fulfilled.

This was a big day. Not only for Viole, but for him and Grace as well. They really had worked so hard for this moment of being reunited with everyone again, and Agni could say it paid off.

But of course, it was only the start. They still have a long journey ahead to survive. He'd have to get everyone prepared, lest they end up the same as his previous time. Thinking back to the game, their teamwork could still use a lot of improvement. The way they fought still clashed with each other. The reason why Agni was able to hold out for that long against those fishermen was because he was able to exploit their openings. Were their moves more synchronized and were they more skilled at handling their abilities, he'd have lost if he were to deliberately drag out the fight like earlier.

The reason why he only suggested the game to be ten minutes long was because he had anticipated that he'd be the main target, and he wouldn’t have the stamina to continue longer. Plus using too much of his ice power could be dangerous for everyone, including him.

He blew a puff of warm air into his fist at the thought. His body had finally registered the cold, and his gloves couldn't provide enough warmth to keep his hands from shaking. It was harder to help Ran this way.

He had known that consuming redan could negatively affect Ran's body, but he didn't know it'd be this bad. Highly concentrated lightning shinsu had torn his muscles and burnt his smaller circulatory system. No wonder Ran collapsed right after. Maybe he should take Ran to lay down somewhere more comfortable, while also getting himself something warm.

He scooped Ran up in his arms and stood up, gaining everyone's attention once again. "I'm going to take him to the med bay." 

Shibisu stood up from his seat. "I'll come with you."

Knowing him, Isu likely wanted to make sure that Ran was safe. He had always been compassionate like that, the self-proclaimed dad of their team. Agni wouldn't agree otherwise. However, Agni wasn’t sure if Isu could actually do anything if Agni did have ill intentions.

"M-me too." Viole stood up as well. Khun and Rak followed close behind.

Agni caught Grace's words before he was out of hearing range. "Actually, since we've finished patching up, how about we get lunch?"

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[anto-pops]

hiii:) i was wondering if would you ever write a part 2 to end of the line?? maybe where MC is pregnant/ they have kids and it’s a lot of seb fluff and maybe some smut👀

Hmm I’m definitely tempted to ! Sebastian in dad-mode has an appeal to it that I can’t overlook. I’ll see if I can come up with some additional ideas for a continuation, I just apologize in advance if it takes me a while to get to it ;;

[innytoes]

Chapters: 25/? Fandom: Leverage Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Alec Hardison/Parker/Eliot Spencer Characters: Parker (Leverage), Alec Hardison, Eliot Spencer (Leverage), Original Characters, Sophie Devereaux (Leverage), Nathan Ford Additional Tags: POV Outsider, Kid Fic, Found Family, Post-Canon, Original Non-Binary Character - Freeform, dumpster raccoons, Evil CEOs, stabby the roomba - Freeform, thrift stores, Fluff, Surprise Knives, the end of con Gloat, Resting Intern Face, the Leverage alternate revenue stream, Christmas, Transphobia, terrible but great christmas gifts, Old Nate The Painting, Racism, the fanfic equivalent of one of those shopping montages, Scrapbooks, the Leverage group chat, Stabbing, Eliot Spencer’s Totally Innocent-Looking But Very Distinctive Tactical Weapon Placement, some mild kidnapping, Thanksgiving, Voting, Worth It Summary:

In which Jamie meets some criminals, kind of gets adopted, and decides life as a vigilante criminal is pretty good.

Chapter 25 is up! In which Jamie is in a funk, nothing interesting happens after 18 anyway when you’re a criminal who does illegal stuff all the time, and Eliot sees truffle and gold leaf as a challenge.

[theangrypomeranian]

literally cannot stop thinking about them

I love them so much, I wanna write millions and millions of words about them, they deserve the world and I wanna give it to them 😭❤️

[paimonial-rage]

My most interacted with fics:

Cocky Bastard Vibes (Zhongli)

Tipsy Tales (Anemo boys)

Why He Rejected You (pt 1)

Telling Them Off (Ayato, Venti, Xiao)

A Sight to Behold (Yae Miko)

Obvious (Neuvillette)

Simple (Alhaitham)

What Destiny Has Brought (Fischl)

Why He Rejected You (pt 2)

Blasphemous Assumptions (Zhongli)

[sparrowmoth]

Carlos and the (...) No Good, Very Bad Day • [AO3]

Teen | 3.1K+ | Carlos-centric | Crack/Humor, Magical Accidents

A/N: Chapter two! Again, this can be read as gen or shippy idc. <3

CW: Some dark humour, swearing, and minor angst at the end of this chapter.

Chapter Two: Now You See Me

“Come on boy, fetch—you can do it! See the ball? Get it! Get it!”

Carlos stares at Jay like he’s an idiot. And honestly, from his point of view—or anyone’s, really—Jay looks the part. He keeps throwing a “ball,” which is just a rolled-up dirty sock of his, and when Carlos doesn’t react, he gets down on all fours and “fetches” it himself.

He’s been doing this for an hour in dog time, but realistically, it’s only been five minutes. That’s five minutes too long for Carlos, who’s starting to think he might have to kill Mal—

Once he gets her to turn him back, of course.

Finally, he hears it—the sound of his saviour in high heels—

He leaps up and rushes for the door, scratching desperately at the wood as Evie’s footsteps grow closer. He barks in protest when Jay’s hands close around him, pulling him away and warning him to “be quiet.” He tells Jay to let him go, but it comes out as more barking, and if that weren’t bad enough, Jay muzzles him with one hand.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Jay says gently, like the bastard that he is. “You can’t keep barking. Please. Come on… it’s bad enough Chad knows you’re in here. Just calm down, okay, boy? Come on, shhhh…” Jay maintains his muzzling grip, but holds him snug against his chest.

Carlos fights it, whining and growling, wriggling and shaking and refusing to relent. Jay is warm and his heartbeat is steady and that could be a comfort if Carlos would let it, but he won’t. He won’t.

The door knob twists. There isn’t a knock.

Evie slips in like a wraith into Hades, almost going unnoticed—

“Oh—Eves, hey,” Jay greets belatedly, a little distracted trying to keep his hold on Carlos, who’s kicking at his chest with all his puppy might. “A little help here? I don’t think he likes me…”

Shaking her head with a little smile, Evie opens her mouth like she’s about to say something, only to pause and start to frown, her gaze intent on Carlos, who only stops struggling when their eyes meet.

Jay raises an eyebrow at Evie’s reaction, even letting go of Carlos’ snout so he can hold him out like a sort of offering to be inspected.

“You two know each other?” Jay jokes, breaking up the silence.

Carlos whines in discontent, almost dropping out from Jay’s hands with the sudden force of his wriggle. He’s set down on the ground, where he wastes no time in rushing up to Evie, pawing at her foot and then sitting down, neck craned up to look at her meaningfully.

“Oh…” she breathes out, dropping into a crouch, carefully balanced on her heels. “You’re not… you can’t be…” She pauses. “Carlos…?”

He barks once, relieved, and spins in a circle before sitting again.

Evie’s hand flies to her mouth and she looks at Jay, who’s standing there in confusion, unsure what he’s hearing. “Jay,” she starts to say, “Carlos didn’t steal a puppy…” She laughs a little, as if in disbelief, but the way she continues, it’s clear she’s certain: “He is a puppy.”

The two of them, Evie and Jay, wind up sitting on the dorm room floor while Carlos paces between them, restless and irritable. Evie’s been trying to get a hold of Mal, who was apparently with her until Jay had called, and then—not suspicious at all, Carlos thinks—she'd “suddenly remembered something really important” and taken off.

Meanwhile, Jay has been staring at Carlos like he’s some kind of alien. Once or twice, he’s reached to try and pet him, like to make sure he’s real or something, but one snarl from Carlos and he’s withdrawn his hand like something had burned him—

Not that it stops him from trying again.

This time, though, Evie sets her phone down and clicks her tongue at Carlos, scooping him up and ushering him into her lap. “Don’t be grumpy with Jay,” she scolds him, tapping his little wet brown nose.

Carlos whines, quite pathetically—on purpose.

It’s easy to be manipulative when you’re the size of a sweet potato.

Evie rolls her eyes and flips him onto his back, tickling his belly as he squirms and yelps, flailing his paws in indignation. It’s worse because he can hear Jay laughing, like he’s asking to be bitten.

What’s more pressing than that, though, is he just realized—

He seriously has to pee.

Desperate, Carlos twists and rolls out of Evie’s lap and dodges Jay’s hands, which instinctively reach to grab him. He makes a dash for the bathroom, skidding to a halt in front of the toilet—

Okay, yeah, this won’t be easy, but he has to try.

He stretches up onto his hind legs and hooks his claw tips on the seat, which is as far as he can reach. He tries to pull himself up, but his claws slip easily and he falls back to his feet, frustrated as ever.

Jay peeks into the bathroom and asks with a grimace, like Evie’s knife is at his back, “You, uh, need to go outside or something?”

Carlos doesn’t even try to glare, he just whines in anguish.

It’s a full thirty minutes later before he gets to relieve himself, since that’s half how long it takes just for Evie to lecture him into a collar—actually just one of Jay’s cut-up old belts—and for Jay to then try and wrestle him into a gym bag, which Carlos resists because of the smell—

His puppy brain may like it, but he’s not letting go of his humanity, and his human self is telling him Jay’s feet are abnormally sweaty.

In the end, Carlos winds up in Evie’s purse, and since it’s Sunday, no one questions them leaving campus. They cut into the woods, where they walk for a while until the school is out of view, and at last, Evie opens her purse up to the sight of a meadow, drenched in sunlight—

Carlos leaps out like a rabbit from a magician’s hat, scampering as quick as he can into the tallest grass and finding a rock to relieve himself against.

“Can’t you just change him back?” Carlos hears Jay asking as he plods back through the meadow to where Jay and Evie are now sitting, cross-legged among the flowers, in a spot of shade.

Carlos echoes Jay’s question with a short bark, flopping down in front of Evie with a sullen expression, hoping to garner her pity.

“Oh, baby, you know I would if I could,” Evie soothes, reaching down to pet Carlos, “but magic isn’t that simple. I’m sorry…”

He can’t find it in himself to reject her touch, even going so far as to roll onto his back and expose his belly, allowing her to rub there—well, until he remembers his modesty and whines in mortification.

He can’t exactly communicate what he’s feeling right now, like his puppy brain is slowly encroaching, trying to push out all his human self; so, he sinks to the ground with a drawn out whimper, looking between Jay and Evie, who both offer him encouraging pats—

“Hey, don’t worry, ‘Los, you won’t get stuck like this,” Jay promises. “I’ll even steal the wand again if I have to. Whatever it takes, okay?”

Carlos wants to roll his eyes, but finds it difficult in puppy form.

They had never “stolen the wand,” in the first place—more like Mal had just happened to grab it—and almost as quickly, she had given it back. It was locked up Beast-knows-where now, never again to be displayed in the museum and only rarely to be used in ceremony.

Rarely, as in—unless Ben dies, they’re shit out of luck.

Or Carlos is.

That’s what he’s starting to think until Evie, who had pulled her phone out to text, suddenly chirps up, “Mal’s coming to meet us.”

“Out here?” Jay asks as Carlos leaps to his feet, ears and tail erect. He clambers into Evie’s lap, trying to get a look at her phone screen to read the text exchange himself before she can even answer—

“Yes,” she responds with a giggle over Carlos’ antics.

He’s squinting at the phone, nose to the screen, but before the words come into focus, the screen reacts to his touch and the words change.

Suddenly, the phone is ringing.

Mal’s voice answers, unsuspecting—

Carlos knocks the phone from Evie’s hand and towers over it in the grass, barking a long stream of insults that he doesn’t expect Mal will understand, but that’s fine—he’ll be repeating them later.

“Okay, I get it—you’re pissed—but that’s low, Cee, you do not have to bring my mother into this,” Mal scoffs on the other end of the line.

Evie, who had been reaching to take her phone back, stops just short and exchanges a look with Jay, who’s the first to voice what all of them are thinking, “M, are you fucking with us right now?”

There’s hesitation on the line, and then:

“Look, just chill. I’m on my way.”

Thank you for reading! Reblogs are always appreciated. And feel free to subscribe on AO3 if you want to be alerted when the next chapter comes out. Kudos and comments are lovely, as well! ♥

[brianmostcertainlymay]

Pulling a timeline of plot details for the super secret self-indulgent self-insert fic, and let me tell you, it isn't as fun as it sounds. ;- p

[greyias]

My scene skeleton/expanded outlines for this fic are starting to get a bit out of hand.

Actual, written first drafts of the first two chapters:

Me pre-writing the next three chapters:

[azikarue]

Life in Color : Chapter 30 : The Future

Max/Mariam | FFN Rating: T | FFN Link ❖ “Thinkin’ about Blondie?”

The disgust was obvious in Dunga’s voice even before Mariam turned around and saw the scowl on his face. He looked grumpier than usual, which might have had something to do with the fact that he’d been conscripted to help her and Max move. Never mind that she’d been making sure he got the heaviest boxes all day, waiting to see how long it took him to notice.

Mariam smirked. “We’re married now – I can think about him all I want,” she said, drawing out her words as Dunga’s face screwed up even more.

“Gross,” he spat vehemently. “Keep your sick fantasies to yourself, Mariam.”

“Oh, relax.” She rolled her eyes. “Don’t get all worked up.”

“You should probably take your own advice, Sis.” Joseph appeared and gently set his box down in the pile of things that were meant for the kitchen. He brushed the dust off of his hands and said, “Think too hard about Max and you might start on those grandkids Mom and Dad want sooner than you bargained for.”

“For your information,” Mariam said, doing her level best to ignore Joseph’s shit-eating grin and the fact that it got wider when he realized he’d annoyed her, “I was thinking about what project to start first around here.” Joseph’s eyes sparkled in a way that meant trouble, so she shut him down before the words could even leave his mouth. “A nursery isn’t on the list!” she said and smacked him upside the head for good measure.

They’d been plenty busy lately without adding starting a family into the mix.

Mariam and Max had begun looking for a house in Japan over a year ago, right in the midst of planning their wedding. Mariam immediately regretted not letting Max jump the gun and start as soon as he graduated and moved back with his dad; house-hunting was way more difficult than she’d anticipated. She had no idea what she wanted, aside from privacy and something that wasn’t smack-dab in the middle of the city, and being asked dozens of questions every day by their realtor only added to the overwhelm she felt from making decisions about the wedding.

They toured a dozen properties and, with each one, there was something not quite right. When they came to see this house, which she suspected was a last-ditch effort by their realtor to find anything halfway suitable, something clicked.

It was far from perfect. Having stood vacant for some years, the garden was overgrown and the house itself had fallen into disrepair. The doors stuck, the appliances needed upgrading, and everything was covered in a thick coating of dust. But it was quiet, it was spacious, and their nearest neighbors were on the other side of a thicket of trees.

It felt like home.

“You should start with the back porch,” Dunga crowed, interrupting her thoughts. “I almost fell through the boards back there earlier.”

“Are you offering to help?” Max asked. He was smiling – hadn’t stopped since they’d gotten the keys – and carrying one half of a mattress through the door. Ozuma came through shortly after with the other side and they leaned it carefully against the wall. “I can get the supplies delivered any time.”

“With Dunga’s help, we won’t even need to bother unpacking the tools.” Mariam glanced around the one room they’d scrubbed completely spotless. It was filling up quick with a bunch of stuff they wouldn’t be able to unpack until they’d finished thoroughly cleaning the rest of the house. “He can pound the nails in with his thick skull.”

“Hey!”

“The truck’s almost empty out there,” Ozuma interrupted, nodding towards the front door. “You want us to go back to your dad’s for another load after this or stay and help clean?”

Max gave the room the same once over that Mariam had moments before. They didn’t have much furniture, and what they did have was temporary, taken from Max’s room at his dad’s or donated by friends and family. The rest of their boxes were from Max’s apartment in New York or Mariam’s bedroom in her village, but there wasn’t a lot that had been worth dragging from country to country. One more trip would easily move all their worldly possessions from Taro’s basement to their new home and then they could return the truck they’d rented.

On the other hand, their kitchen appliances were set to be delivered the next day. It was earlier than expected, which would have been a good thing if they didn’t still need to clean years worth of dust out of the spaces the old ones had left behind. And everywhere else in the house.

“While all of you stand around thinking about it, I’m gonna go get another box,” Dunga grumbled, lumbering off to do just that.

“Make it two while you’re at it,” Mariam called after him. “We didn’t invite you for your company.”

Dunga looked back just to flip her off and Joseph snickered. Mariam might have gone after Dunga to teach him a lesson if Max hadn’t chosen that moment to get her attention with a hand, gentle and low, on her back.

“You had a good system going yesterday,” he said, referring to the way she’d scrubbed the room they were standing in from top to bottom while he’d gone around the house unsticking the windows so they could air the place out. “We can tackle the kitchen together if Joseph and Ozuma don’t mind finishing up out here with Dunga?” He phrased it like a question and directed it their way.

Ozuma simply nodded, a hint of a smirk on his face as he followed Dunga.

Joseph wasn’t so quiet. “Make sure you leave the door open,” he teased, “or you really will need to add a nursery to the list.” Then he was gone, too, before Mariam could reprimand him or Max’s blush could fully bloom.

While her teammates unloaded the truck, Mariam began the task of cleaning the kitchen with her husband. She sat on his shoulders to clear the ceiling of cobwebs. Then they started on the cabinets, climbing onto the counter tops and wiping away all the dust and a couple of dead spiders. They scrubbed the walls, counters, sink, and lower cabinets, dumping multiple buckets of filthy water in between.

At some point during the process, Joseph popped his head in and let them know they were taking the truck to Taro’s for the rest of their stuff. He made sure to tell them the mattress better be right where he remembered when he returned. Mariam had thrown a dirty rag at him that stayed on the floor until they pried open the doors to the porch and swept all the fallen dust out for the wind to steal.

By the time the others got back, Mariam was polishing the wooden cabinets until they gleamed and Max was finishing up with the mopping. Mariam was on such a roll with cleaning that she moved on to the dining room next, while the guys unpacked the truck.

She learned that she preferred cleaning to unloading. It felt like she was making real progress as she washed away years’ worth of grime, instead of cluttering up the place. There was something addicting about seeing the true bones of their home revealed and falling more in love with it as she went.

She took a break once, to say goodbye to Ozuma, Dunga, and Joseph when they finished and left, then went right back to cleaning. Max alternated between helping her and sorting their belongings so there would be a path for the delivery the next day.

The sun was setting by the time they finally called it quits for the night.

Mariam was sore and sweaty and starving, but it was worth it to see the entire ground floor spic and span and, thanks to Max, a good chunk of boxes moved to the appropriate rooms. She was wandering between them now, picturing what it would look like with everything unpacked and full and theirs. It felt surreal.

A pair of freckly arms circled her waist from behind, interrupting her daydreams.

Mariam sighed and fell back against Max’s chest, tipping her head onto his shoulder. Her hands came to rest on his arms, tracing the hard line of muscle there as he squeezed her tight.

Max nuzzled his nose behind her ear and sighed, making goosebumps spread over Mariam’s skin.

“Max,” she drawled, squeezing his forearms, “that tickles. And I’m all sweaty.” She added the last bit as an afterthought, but she was suddenly aware of how the short hairs at her nape were clinging to her.

The only answer he gave her was a series of kisses over the side of her face, lips dancing up over her jaw and cheek. She could tell the eternal smile was back on his face when his mouth lingered on her temple. Even when she couldn’t see it, it was contagious.

“I’ll take more of that after I shower off,” she promised through her smile.

Max chuckled. It reverberated through both of their bodies and Mariam felt even more at home.

“Dinner first,” he said, disentangling himself from her and taking her by the hand. “Come on.” He gave her a tug. “And watch the floorboards.”

His warning made more sense when he led her out onto the porch and around to the back of the house. She could see the corner that Dunga had mentioned earlier where the wood was sagging and discolored. On the other side of the porch, Max had spread out a blanket and laid out a couple of cushions. He’d dragged one of their boxes outside to act as a table, too – there were two to-go containers on top of it that she recognized as coming from Kenny’s parent’s place.

“They’re probably cold by now,” he said apologetically. He sat down on the blanket and Mariam collapsed next to him with a grateful sigh. She hadn’t realized how tired she was until now. “My plan was to reheat them, until I realized we didn’t actually have a way to do that.”

He looked so sheepish that Mariam couldn’t help but laugh and lean over to give him a solid kiss on the cheek.

“I’m hungry enough to eat anything,” she said, stomach growling as she reached for her noodles.

“It was a long day.”

She felt Max’s eyes on her as she took her first bite. The noodles were lukewarm, but right now she would swear she’d never tasted anything so delicious in her life. He must have been satisfied with her reaction because he had a dreamy look on his face when she glanced back over. She raised an eyebrow in question.

“But it was a good day.”

Mariam suddenly felt warm all over. “It was,” she agreed, setting her bowl down.

Night was falling. Out in their jungle of a backyard, fireflies were blinking in mesmerizing succession. There were so many of them that the trees looked like they were sparkling with stars. The real stars were glittering in the sliver of sky above the treeline. There weren’t as many of them as back home, but there were so many more than in New York where the sky was an inky black canvas no matter what.

The surreal feeling was back. Mariam’s heart felt twice its normal size and had become unexpectedly lodged in her throat.

Max’s hand closed around hers, lacing their fingers together and squeezing. “I keep feeling like this is a dream,” he confessed in a whisper.

Mariam watched the fireflies flicker in his eyes and that was exactly what the sky at home looked like. Safety and adventure – security and possibilities – all at once. She hadn’t always understood that the two could go hand in hand, but seeing the scene in Max’s eyes, it all made sense. She let out a shaky breath, dinner all but forgotten.

“I don’t really know how to explain it.” Max stroked her wedding band with his thumb. The Saint Shield earring in his ear caught the moonlight, mimicking the firefly show. “It just hit me like a ton of bricks and I’m so happy.” She could see the emotion glistening in his eyes and it made the knot in her throat tighten. “I love you and this home – this future – we’re building together. So much, Mariam.”

“You’re such a sap,” she teased, voice sounding a little watery even to her own ears. Then she leaned in and kissed him hard and slow.

She swore she could taste the sweetness of his words on his tongue as he kissed her back, drawing her onto his half of the blanket, and into his lap, like he’d been waiting to do it all day. One of his hands settled on her hip, thumb nestling into the crease of her thigh like a puzzle piece slotting into place. The other came to rest on her waist, comfortable and exciting all at once.

Mariam cradled his face and pulled back for a breath. “But me too,” she mumbled against his lips, seeking out his hazy blue eyes. “To all of it.”

When he sighed in response, Mariam kissed him again.

Whatever had hit Max, it was safe to say it’d hit her too.

[gontagokuhara]

its obscene how deeply entrenched in my chrome search history certain dr characters’ wiki pages are. i’m at the point where typing the letter “n” auto-fills for 1) nagito’s regular wiki page, and then 2) nagito’s FTE page

[xx-vergil-xx]

i have not known peace since starting hounds and i go absolutely feral every time it updates

i managed to have a mental breakdown in the middle of a race and get diagnosed with depression about seven years late while reading it, okay if i blame you?

hounds accepts liability for Mental Distress have your lawyer call my lawyer and we’ll settle up

but fr, hey, from one depressed mfer to another, godspeed soldier — sometimes the being formally diagnosed is the first step to getting the support u need and things getting better, and i wish you all the best <3 take care of yourself

[the-sparkling-diamond-satine]

How come nearly everytime I have a oneshot idea I think “Oh! This could be short! Maybe I’ll even be able to post it in a couple days!”

And then like boom! overnight it gains 11k and I’m Still Not Done and just kidding this might be a multichap fic like??? What is this curse????

[innytoes]

WIP game

RULES: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

tagged by NOBODY, I just wanted to do this because I'm stoked about my wips lol.

My wips in no particular order:

Foster Care AU (which is technically finished but I'm still tinkering with it until the first post day on the 15th)

Darkest timeline envelope days

Caleb Ray Reggie A/B/O AU

Christmas Elf Reggie

Rayleb Willie matchmaker

outsider pov the ot3 is super married

Pro Dom Ray/Autistic Reggie AU

tagging: @floating-in-the-blue, @invisibleraven, @bananakarenina, @onlygenxhere and @1mnobodywhoareyou

[hecckyeah]

can’t tell me there’s no point in trying - chapter 6

.

.

A string of half-formed curses from under the ship makes Hunter chuckle.

“That all you got?” He bends himself over, craning his neck up to check on Omega’s handiwork. Her blonde hair is plastered to her forehead, grease and soot smeared across every inch of her face. She lays on her back on the dolly, arms flung out to each side. Her glare sends daggers through Hunter’s skull.

“The damn thing spit on me,” she exclaims and weasels her way back out toward the daylight.

“Ships can’t spit,” Tech calls dryly from the opposite side, and Omega rolls her eyes and gives the loudest, most obviously-annoyed sigh she can muster.

Laughing, Hunter goes to retrieve a rag for his sister.

He’s glad he decided to remove his upper blacks and keep on the loose, white, natural-fiber shirt he’d acquired from the locals. The air is so hot and humid that even his advanced, altered heat-resistant biology can’t keep up with it. He’s sweating buckets under his leg armor, even with the breathable shirt up top. The next planet they stop at will be an ice planet, he decides then and there.

After a good wipe-down of her face and a long drink of electrolyte water, Omega is a new person again.

“Let’s never come here again,” she begs. “This place hates us.”

“I second that,” Echo grumbles.

Hunter can’t help but agree. Just walking feels like he’s swimming through a boiling sea.

“Omega!” Tech calls. “Did you get that capacitor replaced?”

She barely opens her mouth to answer, when a grating, metallic, slithering voice interrupts them.

Hunter should have sensed it coming.

“Hands in the air, clones. ”

.

read the rest on ao3

[heat--end]

sometimes i worry/feel weird about filling an ao3 tag that doesnt have much content with chapters of my one-shot collection that is entirely focused on one story i wrote because i like writing those characters too much, but then i go fuck it im enjoying writing these gay women