#does anyone else ahem.....pair these two

[kabukiaku]

love and appreciate your local satanic popestar!!! 🖤✨

[world-of-aus]

AHEM. GOOD EVENING! I hope you're alive because I'm not 🤤

I am not okay, but I was inspired...

Worth Every Penny

Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Reader

Warnings: HEA. Pinch of Insecurities, Fluff, a doting and loving Bucky Barnes.

You can feel his eyes on you as you adjust the lone button beneath his bowtie, your fingers smoothing over the fabric as you list the details of tonight's charity auction. 

“You’ll be called on after Steve, and please for the love of God don’t forget to smile.” you say as your eyes meet his. There’s a grin on his pink lips, “like that,” you point tapping the stubble skin of his cheek. His hand wraps around your wrist keeping you there, “as long as you promise to raise your number tonight, I’ll smile all you want me too.” 

You only half roll your eyes, pushing your tongue against your cheek to keep your own smile in check, “I will not be responsible for your father’s death James.” He laughs, hand finding your waist, fingers curling to pull you flush against his chest, “good thing you’ll be with Ma, you can wave that number of yours as much as you want, put it on my card even sweetheart.” 

“James.” 

The hand that held your wrist finds your cheek, his touch comforting as he searches your gaze, “sweetheart if I cared what my father thought I’d be his next in line, but I’m not, I’m running my own show, the way my father should have – and you and everyone else that matters knows that. So wave your number if you want to – or don’t because at the end of the night I’m coming home to you regardless of what anyone thinks, says, or does.” 

“B,” you murmur and he can’t help but to chuckle because he knows he’s got you now. He feels you melt into him, “stop thinking, can see those gears running, don’t care what anyone has to say tonight, just care about you.” 

He makes it so easy for you to forget the whole world, forget the two very ‘different’ worlds you came from, the ones certain individuals just loved to make so painfully obvious to you – to him. And between your internal scolding and Bucky’s constant reassurance you knew you shouldn’t care, nobody else mattered except the man that held you in his arms but you couldn’t help it, their whispered words stung. They all only saw you as the successful mob bosses  secretary. To many like him you weren’t his equal, weren’t worthy of his time except for making sure to keep track of his time. 

A knock on his office door pulls the two of your from the intimate moment, the two of you stepping away from one another. Sam’s voice calls for the two of you, “it’s time, we’ve got to head out now.” You smoothed him over one more time, Sam pushing the door open further, “remember,” you say running a hand over his cheek “smile.” 

Sam calls for you one more time now fully waiting for you by the open doorway arm waiting for yours. You turn to move over to him but Bucky’s hand stops you, “Ill always choose you, remember that.” You give him a smile, one the two of you know doesn’t quite reach your eyes. Bucky wont let you leave like that so he pulls you to him, his lips finding yours in an unexpected but reassuring kiss.  

He only hands you over to Sam when he knows he’s kissed you breathless, “Take care of her Sam,” he tells his best friend and right-hand. Sam nods looping your arm with his, “you know I will, cars out front, your ma and sister are waiting.”  

The two of you follow your boss, out of his office making sure he makes it out to the car, Winnie rolling the window down to coo over you, “you looks absolutely stunning in that dress!” “we’ll save you and Sam a seat,” Rebecca calls from next to her mom. 

Before he enters the car with his mom and sister Bucky turns to the two of you, “when you get there, the four of you stay together,” he turns to Sam, “don’t let either of them out of your sight.” 

“I’ve got it handled man, get out of here before you get there late and your dad blows a damn fuse.” You and Sam watch him get into the car, watching it pull out of the driveway shortly after before moving to your own vehicle. 

“You know George will blow a fuse tonight either way right?” you laugh as you buckle yourself in. Sam laughs as he puts the car into drive, “Seeing Bucky alone will have him popping a blood vessel, that man can’t stand to see his son succeed.” 

The gala is in full swing by the time you and Sam arrive, several well-known notorious families all coming together for one big event that benefits all. You recognize several faces that have come through Bucky's office as you walk arm in arm with Sam through the ballroom to where the tables are pressed along the corners.  

You greet the familiar faces kindly as you pass through the tables where Winnie and Becca wait for you, Winnie’s hand flagging the two of you down, your name being called through the air. Bucky’s mother makes niceties for the other watchful eyes in the room, encouraging you to join them, of course you and Sam can’t pass the offer up – it wouldn’t look right in the eyes of the other families watching on, you thank her sweetly as you take your seat, Sam taking the one next to you. 

You can feel his eyes on you as you talk with his mother, he's sitting a table away with his father. George Barnes had saw to it that his son’s seat was assigned at his table, ‘there is business to attend to, new heads for you to meet that have been placed at my table it’ll be good for you to build your name.’ had been his excuse. Though you know that hadn’t been the case if the brunette-haired woman sitting next to him, leaning much to closely for your liking had been any indication. George Barnes had been trying to set Bucky up with Dot since you started on as his son’s secretary.  Bucky had no interest then, and he had no interest now, his eyes always looking your way, to be fair you tried to keep it to a minimum how often you glanced his way. 

 “You should raise your number tonight when he goes up dear.” Your eyes find Winnie’s and there's a warm smile waiting on her lips, “I know that’s what my son would want, and I know that's what you want as well.” Your eyes find her hand that's still placed warmly over yours, “I know Ma, but I don’t want to cause him any trouble – not tonight - and knowing your ex-husband there will be hell to be had if I so much as raise a hand when your son’s name is announced.” Winnie scoffs, “that man has raised hell every day since Bucky chose to build his own name, a name not tarnished by his father, George isn’t used to not getting his way, he’s used to glaring people down and getting what he wants, when in all reality it was his son that was getting him what he wanted and now that he doesn't have that, well he’s not used to losing so he brings down people to get what he wants. And you my dear are unfortunately his biggest target because he’s seen how much Bucky cares for you, how much he loves you.” 

Your eyes flicker to hers drawing a laugh from woman you’ve come to love as your own over the years you’ve worked alongside Bucky. “Don’t tell me you don’t see it y/n, my boy is as smitten as ever, can hardly get him to come see me on his own anymore.” 

“That’s where I come in.’ Becca laughs from beside her mom, “and even then he has to make it a whole day for us girls just to make sure he’s close by – can’t risk anything happening to my girls.” Rebecca says doing her best impersonation of her brother. 

You laugh then recalling all the Sunday afternoons that turned into family outings because ‘why not? I love keeping my girls happy, and you never know Becs mom might want a new set of nails after breakfast.’ Winnie never did need a fresh set, but the Barnes women always indulged Bucky in his Sunday breakfast with his ma turned family outings if only to keep him happy, because he deserved it.  

“He really does love you,” Sam chimes in from next to you, his shoulder bumping yours softly, “though to be fair he was smitten the day you scolded his father in front of his men.” 

“I swear that’s the day I made an enemy of that man,” you chuckle your eyes moving towards the table where George Barnes sat. You find awaiting eyes and a kind smile from the man that holds your heart, you return his smile, “that was also the start of the rest of your life, Bucky’s offered you more than George ever could, and in turn you’ve given my son the means to be who he is now.” 

Your laugh is watery as you fan at your eyes, Winnie cooing over you as she pulls you into her side pressing her lips to the side of your head. Rebecca eventually squeezes in Sam throwing his arm the best he can over the three of you. Before you arrived you might have though twice about using the black card nestled in your clutch but now, now you’d do it proudly. A table over Bucky can’t help but to worry as his family circles you, your watery laugh meeting his ears as you assure the table your fine, he has half a mind to leave the table and get to you but then they’re announcing all candidates with their secretaries to the stage. 

Bucky stands watching his mother smoothe you over, he meets you halfway not taking you in his arm right away to search your face. He cups your cheek, the moment intimate eyes surely on the two of you, “are you okay?” 

You smile squeezing the hand that rests on your cheek, “perfect B, come on let’s get you to the stage.” 

He gives you his arm, guiding you through the tables towards the back of the stage, the announcer is talking about the purpose of tonight’s event while the heads of the houses stand in a bunch awaiting their names to be called. Bucky guides you to his friends, Steve’s the first to greet you, Natasha following as she squeezes you in a warm embrace. Then comes stark with Pepper, Odison with Jane, and lastly the newest name vision and Wanda. This was the family Bucky had created after stepping down from his father, and he had you to thank for it, Steve had been the first to rally at his side, but the others came because of you, because of the relationships you helped him build.  

The girls are cleaning up their men as they straighten them out, you turn to your favorite brunette smiling as you squeeze his shoulders. “You keep smiling like that for me, and I’ll smile up on that stage for you.” You laugh, “careful B, don’t want to make it too hard for us to outbid.” 

“Ma did say I was worth every penny.” 

You shake your head at him, fingers running over the lapel of his suit, “you really are B.” 

His lips part to speak but the announcer has begun to call names, “remember sweetheart I’m still yours at the end of the night.”  

“I know B.”  

You let him go moving over to the ladies before you all exit from behind the stage, each of you going back to your respective tables to watch the auction. Vision is the first to be called on stage and his bids alone start off the auction strong. You’re not surprised when Wandas card fly's up, determination set as she outbids every woman who even try's. She closes the bidding for a whopping 10,000, no one ever stood a chance. 

And so, it goes with Odison going on next, Tony following both men closing 5,000 above visions, their secretaries waving at their recognition. The nerves begin to flare when Steve is called upon, your table at the ready with your numbers, Natasha meets your eyes from three tables down, smirk on her face. Steve’s bids started strong with 1,000 being called by Natasha other women chirping in throughout the room, with your table occasionally bouncing in. You begin to sweat when he passes 15,000 the numbers slowly climbing up. Sam closes the bidding with 20,000 you barely stifle your laugh at the wink Steve sends him. 

Bucky’s name is called next, his presence taking over the stage your breath catching in your throat, his eyes scan the entire room but ultimately land on you. Winnie starts the bidding at 3,000 “nobody's taking my boy on a date.” It makes you laugh when Rebecca follows, tacking on another 1,000, Sam taking it up another 2,000 shortly after. Steve’s voice sounds in the room bringing his count up to 7,000. His bid continues to climb the women chirping in outbidded by the ones he loves most. Bucky’s inching on Steve when from the table right next to you Dolores raises her number, 25,000. George finds your eyes, smirk on is devious features, you look away. 

The announcer begins to call out ‘going once twi -” 

Your number goes up, ‘55,000’ you call, the room gasps Winnie laughing next you, squeezing you as she huddles close. The announcer doesn't think twice as he closes the bid for ‘55,000 to the highest bidder of the night, congratulations.’ 

Bucky’s grinning at you with love in his eyes as the announcer calls all winners to come backstage to meet and finalize a date. Aside from Sam who takes Natashas spot though she still follows the two of you, most of the secretaries are making their way behind the stage again. There is laughter in the air as Steve and Sam make dramatics of embracing each other intimately though you only have eyes for one person behind that stage. 

He closes the distance between the two of you, cradling your face in warm hands, “55,000, sweetheart,” he breathes, “my cheeks were already hurting just looking at you.” 

You pull him closer, “I did say you were worth every penny,” you grinned melting into his embrace as he captures your lips in a sweet kiss. 

He was worth every penny and more. 

[silverzoomies]

Polaroid

peter maximoff x reader smut

warnings: solo masturbation. that's pretty much it, sorry

word count: 2,625

a/n: i wrote about him jerking off again. whoops. i've been absent for a week. but i'll be home tomorrow !! and hopefully i can get back into the flow of writing. until then, here's this rushed, unpolished thing i wrote on a whim !! it's super clunky and i'm so sorry lol !!

edit: made some minor changes to this. fixed some things that felt off, but overall it's still the same idea.

taglist: @dewberryobssesed @violetharmonscupcake @kaismanwich @jellyluvr @icannot3 @taintandviolent @ahoyladiesz (as usual, ask to be added !!)

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Home alone, at long last. Helllllllz to the yeah. Down in the heart of his (mom’s) basement, Peter lies lazily on his back in bed. Today, it's one of those slow, hot afternoons midway through summer. Sunny, with a slight overcast. Peter hasn’t been outside to see it for himself. But he heard some guy on the radio call it “totally tubular” weather for a day at the beach.

He almost wishes he’d take a two second run to the Bahamas, or somewhere else. Peter could kick it back on a towel and watch babes in bikinis walk by. Maybe he could even stir up some trouble in the sand. Like he used to do, way back in his childhood. Just for some extra mayhem.

Alas. Today, Peter feels lazier than lazy. He’s found a new name for himself in Lazyville. As the leading candidate in the office of laziness. Speeding all around the globe for the umpteenth time this week sounds like too much work. Even a super powered mutant, living life in the fast lane, has his off days sometimes. What’s one break, eh? Breathing a sigh, he stares up at the ceiling. Earphones rest over his ears. Peter listens to a melodious tune by Jefferson Starship. Over his belly, he twirls his thumbs, bobbing his head along with his jams. Chillaxin’ and relaxin’ as one should on his day off. Hm.

Except, Peter’s kind of antsy. No one’s home at the moment. He has all this free time to do whatever he wants, in the privacy of said home. With not a soul around to judge him, or even bug him. And listen. It’s been centuries since he got off. Which may or may not be a slight exaggeration.

But wouldn’t you believe it? Despite his uniquely handsome features and outrageously fit bod; Peter has absolutely no game whatsoever. Crazy, right? Who woulda thought it? The dude who locked himself away in his (mom’s) basement for a good ten years. He’s awkward as hell? Say it ain’t so! Whoa!! Insane in the membrane!!!

Not to mention, it might as well have been a geological age since he got laid. Whatever. Who needs the companionship of someone else to have a totally righteous time, huh? Haha…

Ahem.

Today, Peter dubs himself the crowned king of slacking off and jacking off.

Pulling his earphones down to rest around his neck, his fingers move to find his jeans. He teases himself for a beat or two, his palm rubbing over the denim. Another beat, and his cock is freed from the tight, restrictive material. Peter makes a mental note: He might need to invest in looser pants. This pair is rough and uncomfortable around his legs, so he shoves them all the way down to his ankles with virtually no shame.

What does it matter anyway? For the time being, he’s free. At least until his mom gets back, that is. He should really stop thinkin’ about that. Every time Peter remembers - oh, yeah - he’s a grown ass man still living at his mom’s place; it kinda wrecks the vibe. Makes the mood crash and burn. Total boner killer. And he’s not even hard yet.

His half-hard cock rests limply over a curly patch of silver hairs. Peter would never admit it to anyone, but he’s always been self conscious of his hair situation. Some chick back in high school - he can’t even remember her name - said his silvery bush “looked really weird.” Like the pubes of some geriatric. 

Peter can barely picture her face at this point. But the sound of her giggling at his expense is, unfortunately, locked away in his brain forever. Another embarrassing memory to withstand the test of time. Probably until he dies, or becomes a geriatric himself.

What was he doing again? Oh. Right.

Peter gives his dick a firm squeeze, like he’s checking to make sure it’s still there. Before taking the semi-hard length into his hand. Slowly, he strokes himself to hardness. Breathing a relieved sigh, Peter settles into the groovy-patterned sheets of his bed. The smooth tip of his cock inches through his closed fist with every stroke. As his frustration blossoms, his length throbs with an intense longing for something more.

Thick veins pulsate under his hand. Sparkling beads of precum leak from his tip. He coats the head in a generous glaze of slickness, eliciting a hushed noise from the depths of his throat. Keeping himself as quiet as humanly possible is basically a instinctive response. But he doesn’t have to hold himself back right now, does he?

Sweet. Peter’s gonna be as loud and obnoxious as he wants.

Pumping his cock a bit faster, he momentarily stops to fondle his balls. They rest heavy in his palm, smooth to the touch and loose between his fingers. After teasing himself impatiently, Peter redirects his attention to his twitching length. Aching for more stimulation. He jerks off with a pleasurable rhythm. Subconsciously following the beat that resonates from his earphones, his strokes fall into a more consistent pace. He leans further back in bed, letting his lips part. His nerves tingle. And as he revels in the sensation, he loudly moans. Letting the noise rip through the silence of his ( mom’s ) basement.

Said basement has now become more stifling. Kudos to the summertime heat for that one. Peter’s Conan the Barbarian T-Shirt - now damp with his sweat - feels like too much of a hindrance. He pulls the fabric up, letting his upper half breath. With his shirt clamped between his teeth, Peter leaves his body exposed. A sheen of sweat coats his abs, and his pecs raise with each labored breath he takes.

He takes a half second to admire his own physique. Honestly? No bullshit? His body looks pretty damn amazing. If only there were someone around to appreciate how naturally jacked he is. It’s a hell of a tragedy, really. All this smokin’ hot, speedster bod goin’ to waste. Tsk tsk tsk.

Who was he even kidding? Why would anyone wanna waste their time messin’ around with a total shut-in like him?

Dammit. Now's not the time for some hateful, self-ribbing. He should distract himself with something. Something like-

Using the gift of his mutation, Peter increases his speed by a few notches. His fist squeezes tightly around his length, stroking his cock even faster. He groans into his shirt, knitting his brows as arousal washes through his groin in waves. It feels good. Really fucking good.

But it’s not enough. He wants to utilize this free time as much as he can. It’s the perfect opportunity to get even more frisky than he usually would. Peter bolts around the basement, searching for a few hidden…uh…treasures, we’ll call them. In a blink, he reappears on his bed, leaving his overly tight jeans and boxers discarded on the floor.

Lying next to Peter over the wrinkled blankets, rest a bottle of lube - the tingly kind, a stroker toy - clear, with literal, silver lining, and a polaroid photo. The toy hasn’t been used in eons, but its quality is still up to par. Peter made sure to clean it the instant he found it again. And the photo, well…

It’s his own, filthy secret.

A low-res, high flash picture taken of you at last year’s, X-mansion, Halloween party. Whoa, mama. You were scantily clad in the most outrageously suggestive Indiana Jones costume Peter ever saw. Back at the party, you even tipped your hat and cracked the whip a couple of times. Which may or may not have awakened something in him. But that’s beside the point.

You were so tipsy that night. Way more flirtatious than you naturally would be any other day. Peter remembers you pressing your body against his, hanging over him all night like a sexy sack of potatoes. He sat next to you on the couch. With a cheesy grin on his face, he watched your every move. The tiny shorts you were wearing kept riding up your thighs. It was obvious you were braless under a tight, cropped, button-up shirt. Leaving so little to the imagination.

Point blank, it was fucking awesome.

You crossed your smooth legs. One over the other. And you leaned in to whisper something hot in Peter’s ear.

“Take a picture with meeeee, Quickie, I wanna remember this moment forrrever and everrrr.” You pleaded, your breath tickling the skin of his neck. 

What followed, he hadn’t seen coming. As someone - it’s all a blur, Peter can’t remember who - snapped the photo, you pressed your glossy lips to his cheek. Your giggles were so coquettish and teasing, he felt shivers race through his body at mach speed.

“I’m, like, sooooooooo scared of snakes. Geddit? ‘Cuz I’m Indiana? But your snake doesn’t scare me. Can I pet it, pllllleeeassse?” You giggled again with a little whine.

Making an abrupt move, you reached for Peter’s crotch in front of everybody. After zipping away to grab you a solo cup full of water and some bread, Peter snatched the photo from whoever. And he bolted home in a fit of shameful embarrassment.

In retrospect, you weren’t just tipsy. You were majorly smashed. You didn’t remember a single minute of it. Figures. He’s not too surprised you wouldn’t remember flirting with him.

Peter sighs, blinking himself out of the memory. Eager to continue his once-in-a-silver-moon, jerkin’ session. He squeezes a fair amount of lube into his palm, wrapping his large hand tightly around his cock. Over every inch of his aching length, he spreads the slick substance. Tingles sparkle like stars across the hot, velvet skin of his cock. Wet noises echo lewdly through the basement, as Peter pumps his leaking dick fast and hard.

Clenching his shirt between his teeth, Peter tilts his head back. A loud, seething moan slips from his lips, slightly muffled. He pauses again, grabbing the stroker and guiding its smooth slit over the swollen head of his cock.

“MMmmmnnn~!” Peter hums a steady moan, exhaling through his nose.

The inside of the toy feels nothing even remotely close to the real thing. Kind of a bummer. But the tunnel’s soft, bumpy ridges are still a double A plus. A little too good sometimes, actually. The toy slides down Peter’s cock as he pushes his entire length through. It’s a tight fit around him. Tighter than it should be. Which is doing wonders for his confidence. Maybe he should be more proud of his size.

He’s above average enough, the small toy can’t contain the length of him entirely. His weeping tip peeks out the other side of the stroker, prodding through with every pump. Peter breathes another, shuddering moan. His brows crease in pleasure. Pumping his cock with the squishy toy, he whines in desperation. Forcing his thick length through the toy’s tight grip, slick with lube and smooth as silk. The ridges inside tickle and massage his cock, stimulating his buzzing nerves. 

The muscles in his groin tighten, stiffening his legs. Shoving his cock rapidly through the ribbed tunnel of the toy, he groans louder. Letting his needy noises slip as they please. Fuck it. No restraint. Indulging himself further in his degeneracies, Peter keeps your photo close by. He shoots a glance at it, admiring your soft thighs and amazing cleavage.

He daydreams about you. Imagining the way you’d feel around him, squeezing him so much tighter than any toy. You’d be needy and wet for him too, making it so easy for Peter to bury himself balls deep inside you. 

Peter thinks about the way your titties would look, bouncing with each thrust of his hips against you. Would your nipples peak, stiffening under his fingers? How would you react if he had a little fun, and teased you with a superspeed buzz? Would you even like that? Would you think that kinda thing was weird?

He really does want you sooooo bad. But you have absolutely zero idea. Peter knows he’d treat you right if you let him. If you ever gave him the time of day outside of missions, he’d take you on the wildest ride you ever strapped yourself into.

Clenching his teeth hard into his shirt, he wraps both hands tightly around the stroker. Peter leans as far back as he can, bracing his feet flat on the bed. The blankets curl under his toes, as he lifts his hips. Driving his cock through the slick, textured toy and fucking it hard.

“Nnghh…fuuuuck. Fuck.” He groans, voice catching under fabric.

His breaths quicken, and his moans morph into desperate whimpers. Peter aches for your heat, and the closeness of your body. Your gentle touch. Your sweet voice and little whines. He knows, without a doubt, you’d feel beyond amazing. And you’d probably taste so sublime.

Squeezing his eyes tightly shut, Peter whimpers into his shirt. Saliva seeps through the fabric, melting off his tongue and dribbling down his chin. His cheeks burn hotter, turning a brighter shade of crimson.

“Mmmmmfuckyeah-” Peter moans, followed by a muffled mumble of your name.

He fucks his cock through the toy at rapid, superspeed. Lifting his hips off the bed as if roughly drilling into your tight heat. Peter’s cock throbs as powerful surges of electricity erupt in the pit of his belly. Glossy, white streaks of cum spill from his tip, flooding over the toy. Dripping down the squishy sides of it. His cum stuffs the inside full, coating his dick in its stickiness. Peter thrusts his cock fast enough to appear a blur, until he’s completely spent.

Lying in a sweaty heap over his blankets, Peter pants easy breaths. Tousled, silver hair rests messily over his head. He pulls the stroker from his cock, and slick cum trails after it. Wet and thick against his softening dick. He throws his head back into the bed, taking a moment to compose himself.

It’s really crazy that he’s thinkin’ about you like this, isn’t it? He’s honestly really embarrassed by it. Peter grabs the polaroid and stares at it longingly, unable to suppress the grin pressing into his dimple. Damn. He just can’t help himself. No matter what, he’s kinda ride or die for you.

If only he had the balls to tell you up front.

Peter gazes at the photo for a few seconds too long. Lost in the sight of your sexy body again. You’re such a goddamn knockout. He guides his attention to his dick to find…he’s rock hard again? Seriously? Dropping his head onto the bed, Peter groans with agonizing frustration. He just can’t catch a break, can he? Why’s he always gotta be so antsy, so on edge, or so horny all the time??

A faint sound, like creaking wood, graces his ears. Peter tilts his head up instantly.

Only to be greeted by none other than the unexpected sight of you.

Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Ohfuckohfuckohfuckohfuck-

You’re standing in his ( mom’s ) basement with your mouth agape. A faint indication of blush paints your cheeks, though he can barely see it. Peter should be moving. He should do what a speedster naturally would do in this kinda situation: Clean up and dress himself in less than a blink’s time. Just to play innocent afterwards. Maybe he could gaslight you into thinking you didn’t watch him get his rocks off.

But he’s stunned to the point of being frozen. Neither of you make a single move. Except for Peter’s dick. It twitches subconsciously in his lap, catching your attention. And your eyes widen further.

He really should’ve gone to the Bahamas. Peter’s betting those beaches are seriously bangin’ at this time of year.

[eepyuii]

frostbite — pt. 2

pairing ; childe x gender neutral!reader

content ; childhood friends to “rivals” to lovers, slowburn-ish

cw ; swearing, a LOT of canon archon quest yappery (sorry)

note ; part two baybee!! in comparison to the ao3 version of this, i’ve decided to merge the chapters two by two to make them seem longer and since so far, i’ve only written five- next one might take a little longer to come out. or maybe i’ll just post chapter 5 stand-alone, who knows

also i’ve got a taglist now!

previous | next | masterlist

your arrival in liyue harbor goes less than stellar.

the port is packed full of people who are either confused or outraged at the line of millelith soldiers who refuse to let anyone through. you end up waiting in a line for an annoying amount of time, up until you’re finally attended to by a soldier.

“i’m sorry but liyue harbor is not accepting in any tourists, we are trying to keep our… current situation under control as best we can while investigations are still in order, i hope you can understand.” the millelith states formally.

“oh, well err- i’m no tourist, i was born in liyue harbor! my parents migrated from overseas many years ago and i was just on a leisurely trip to snezhnaya, haha…” you lie through your teeth.

the mere mention of snezhnaya sets off the most minute reaction in the millelith solider, hence why you’re under a fake identity to begin with. you politely hand him a folder with forged documents so gracefully provided to you by your employers and pray to your lucky stars- and, well, tsaritsa, that it’s good enough for him to let you pass.

the soldier remains neutral for a few seconds as he eyes through the paper.

“very well. but please behave in an orderly fashion inside the city, as i said the trail on the ahem- incident is still fresh. welcome home.”

it takes a lot out of you not to snort at the welcome.

the poor naïve man truly wasn’t lying- the inside of the harbor was just as tumultuous as the outside. people in the streets gather in small groups and anxiously whisper their worries to each other. but most of all, they eye you suspiciously like you were the one to stab a sword through rex lapis with the entire harbor watching. you’d say they’re within reason to do so, losing their protector god and all.

you wouldn’t call yourself the most devoted of subjects but you’d also hate to imagine a snezhnaya without the tsaritsa so… benevolently

watching over it. challenging the heavenly principles like she has would certainly cause a catastrophic bite in the ass for the nation if she were to perish. maybe you could be a devoted subject enough to prevent that from happening.

drowning in a whirlpool of your own thoughts, you don’t even realize you’re already standing in front of the northland bank branch of liyue harbor. you try to walk inside as discreetly as possible, so as to not raise any suspicion toward you from the millelith or civilians and to not disturb the workers inside the bank.

unfortunately your efforts are in vain, because you’re recognized immediately.

“ah, sergeant y/n! we were expecting that you would arrive soon. please, allow me to take care of your luggage.” calls out the receptionist, ekaterina.

not only does she practically announce your arrival, she does it while the very bane of your existence is present in the main hall of the bank, formerly distracted as he spoke to a blonde woman in the strangest garments you’ve ever seen and a uh… floating baby?

childe’s ears, no- his entire body, almost instinctively perk up at the mention of your name and he abruptly stops his sentence midway through to look over to the entrance, to you.

“y/n? what in the name of the tsaritsa are you doing here?” he inquires, eyebrows furrowed with the purest of confusions. that is until he remembers the traveler and paimon are still present and most definitely more perpexled than he is.

so he decides to save face before anything else.

“missed me too much?” childe adds cockily.

your eyes almost roll on their own accord. “whatever you’d like to tell yourself. unfortunately, they decided to station me here to help… stabilize the situation, surely that has nothing to do with you screwing up?”

he scoffs. “there’s been nothing to screw up. in fact, the situation is plentiful under control and we’ve already devised a plan to solve it. your intrusion is unneede-”

“wh- you big liar! we literally met after you kicked a bunch of millelith butt in broad daylight! we’ve been stumbling up and down these past few days just to clear our names.” the floating baby speaks up.

you cock your head to the side at the revelation with curiosity and just a smidgen of smugness.

“and you! don’t think just because paimon likes making fun of childe doesn’t mean you’re off the hook. we heard what the lady called you, you’re fatui just like mr. pants-on-fire over here. just who are you anyway?!” the floating baby glides over to you with an accusatory finger pointed and a suspicious squint to her eyes.

the blonde woman, who’s been radio silent this entire time, merely puts a hand on the floating one’s shoulder to pull her back, though she also looks wary of you.

childe laughs at the display and holds out a formal hand as to introduce you. “traveler, paimon, this is y/n, my.. coworker as you can obviously tell. don’t worry though, they’re not a bad guy or kind of a bad guy like me, you have nothing to worry about. they’re actually an amazingly talented battle medic and head nurse of the fatui, that’s why they carry the sergeant title.”

you’re taken aback for a brief moment at the unexpected praise. you were waiting for just a formal introduction of your position in the fatui, or even one that contained a little snarky comment about your attitude towards him. but no, he only complimented your talents. it’s almost a little too courtly too.

“y/n, this is the traveler and paimon. these two not from around here but they unfortunately managed to land right in the bullseye of the incident and are being considered murder suspects. i’m merely helping them clear their names.”

ah, there’s the kicker. he’s “helping” those two.

you know childe well enough to comprehend that he wouldn’t just help some strangely dressed bystanders if he didn’t think he could snake his way into benefit, in this case most likely the geo gnosis. that’s why he’s trying to make somewhat of a good image for himself and those associated. conniving bastard.

then again, takes one to know one.

“so it’s true then, rex lapis is dead.” you hum. “but why has the millelith jumped to the conclusion that it was a murder so quickly? what exactly happened in the rite of descension?”

“weeell, the ceremony was starting just fine and dandy when suddenly the sky got unusually dark and then- bam! thunder strikes and this huge amber dragon drops dead from the sky.” paimon explains dramatically before shivering.

“eugh… really gave paimon the heebie-jeebies… then, the tianquan went over to examine the body and immediately announced it was a murder.”

“interesting.. did the dragon seem to have any visible injuries? any slashes or punctures? weapons sticking out of his body?”

“it’s tricky to say, as i was just relaying onto the traveler before you arrived, the qixing have long since confiscated the exuvia and are refusing to let anyone see it.” childe joins in, looking down pensively with a hand on his chin.

“it feels too early to draw any conclusions but paimon can confidently say it was not us and our names are squeaky clean! either way, we should get going- we’ve done so much walking up mountains since we got here and it’s making paimon famished.”

“see, you keep saying that but you still float, paimon-“ you hear the traveler say as the pair turns to leave.

“oh shush, you!!”

the air between the remaining two of you is thick with awkwardness. you decide to be one to break it once the traveler and paimon are well away from earshot.

“so, how will your charitable little side quest tie into getting the gnosis?”

“hah, you’ve barely arrived and you’re looking so far ahead?”

“aren’t you? in fact, didn’t you say you’d already ‘devised plan to solve it’ and that my presence was ‘unneeded’?” you question, accentuating the quotings in your sentence with a less than half-assed impression of childe’s own pesky tone at the time.

“jeez, i do not sound like that-“

“not the point-“

“yes yes, whatever… for the record i do already have a plan.” he admits. “unfortunately for you, doc, it is a bit airtight and therefore- your interference is unneeded.”

“y’know what, you’re right. if someone like you is describing their plans as airtight then maybe it’s best if i stay out of its splash zone.” you bite back and childe scoffs.

“who even ordered you be sent here?”

the malicious grin grows on your face with haste.

“the jester.”

“wha-?! argh, that old man…”

—

“ekaterina?”

“yes- how may i help you, sergeant?”

“what would be your recommendations for restaurants ‘round here?”

evening was nearing and you could feel the emptiness eating at your stomach from the inside. the few days that had passed of your stay in liyue were remarkably unremarkable. half of your time was spent cooped up in northland bank with diplomatic or medical paperwork while the other half was you doing whatever discreet investigation inside the city that you could, up to little avail.

childe was moving forward with his scheming while effectively keeping you completely in the dark from it- well not completely, as he wasn’t the only stubborn one out of the two of you. some intel about his flawless, artful plan had “slipped out” (meaning you pried it out of ekaterina) and come to your knowledge- for example, today he’d be going out to meet with the traveler and paimon for another meeting with one of his… contacts, he called it. you just didn’t know where.

luckily your source of discovering that had just walked through the door.

“welcome, friend of childe! and congratulations on the first day of your illustrious career with the fatui.” ekaterina greets formally and you’re too late to stop yourself from visibly cringing.

“i have no intention of joining the fatui.” the traveler says curtly.

“you sound remarkably sure of yourself… remember, we are mere mortals- our ideas are fluid like water. only the tsaritsa truly has a will as solid as permafrost.”

you huff at the receptionist’s straightforwardness.

“i’m sure we can maintain.. beneficial connections without anyone signing away their names. why don’t we keep to the matter of this visit?” with a slightly forced business smile, you try to ease the traveler’s stone-like expression. thought, if you were in her shoes you believe you’d react much the same.

and you would sure as hell never recommend for someone to join the fatui.

“hm, yes, back to the matter at hand- childe tells me that he has upheld his end of your agreement.”

“what agreement? ..oh, the thing about him helping us find a guy?” paimon inquires.

“correct. childe promised he would find someone to break the stalemate. and harbingers do not break their promises lightly.”

this time you succeed in internalizing your reaction to the comment- from your personal experience, childe did not exactly fit that concept. but there was no time for dwelling on that now.

“ah, where is that guy anyway?”

“childe is currently at liuli pavilion.”

bingo.

“liuli pavilion?” you ask.

“oh, oh! paimon knows this one!” paimon exclaims, proceeding to give an insight of the rival cooking styles of liyue and you almost admire how dedicated she is to liking food so… academically. you’re half zoning out at their conversation when your stomach traitorously growls for all ears to hear.

“hey, y/n, why don’t you join us? you’re a friend of childe’s too afterall!” the floating guide propositions naively.

“ah err… i-i wouldn’t describe it like that, plus, i wasn’t invited to this meeting. i’d hate to intrude.” you try to wave it off. while this could be your current best chance at receiving more context on their investigation, you’d rather not do it where childe would catch onto you.

“well it won’t hurt to ask him! c’mon, at least walk with us, you’ll have to find a place to eat anyway.” paimon drags you by the sleeve out of northland bank, along with the traveler, with unexpected strength in her grasp.

the streets are bustling with people, walking back and forth as they also step out to guarantee themselves some dinner. the crowd covers the sight of liuli pavilion’s entrance and it’s not until you’ve actually arrived that childe sees you.

he looks no less than befuddled.

“aha, y-you’ve made it…” he laughs awkwardly, clearly not expecting the current situation to ever occur. “care to explain the plus one?”

“they’re just that! they were also looking for a place to eat so we invited them to join us.” paimon contextualizes, oblivious to the silent glare battle taking place between the two of you.

“w-well anyhow-“ childe effectively retreats from the as promised, i’ve found someone who can help you. someone who can solve the mystery of why the liyue qixing would hide the geo archon’s vessel.”

“so.. where is he? in liuli pavilion?”

“he certainly is. come, i’ll… introduce you.” he intends to sound cheerful but the last part of his sentence comes out the smidgen most strained as his eyes flicker to you momentarily.

“i took the liberty of setting up a business dinner, as per liyue custom.”

the traveler and paimon walk ahead and get distracted with the warm welcome of the restaurant’s staff while you and childe try not to jump to an argument then and there.

“trust me, i resisted this impromptu invite as much as i could.” you mutter, preferring to look at the surroundings rather than the harbinger beside you.

“good, because you won’t be joining anyway.” he replies coldly as he starts walking inside ahead of you.

“at least let me see the damn restaurant first, maybe i won’t join your table but that doesn’t mean i won’t eat there.”

“how will i know you’re not listening in on our busine-“

“childe? y/n? c’mon, let’s get to our table!” paimon calls out from further into the pavilion.

as you round to the reserved table, you see a brown-haired man in refined amber clothing seated at the far end of it, tea in hand. somehow you think you’ve seen him before but only out in the streets, perhaps at third-round knockout listening to the storyteller at the front tables.

“yes yes, i’m here.” childe steps up, half-sheepish at his late arrival. “unfortunately, y/n won’t be joining us as they have other matters to attend to.” he says like you’re not standing right beside him.

“really? but y/n didn’t say anything, plus, they seemed like they were awfully hungry-“

“forgive the intrusion but, childe, might this be the same y/n you’ve mentioned before?”

the man at the table joins in and childe looks like he’s promptly died on the spot. you, however, look elated at the revelation.

so elated that you don’t see the flush of red that plagues childe’s face and ears.

“why yes, i might just be.” the grin on your face seems only friendly to the other three and only the harbinger feels it’s real sting of triumph.

“then, please, let us all eat together.”

you all waste no more time to do so, childe sits on the man’s right, you sit beside him while the traveler and paimon mirror you on the other side- well, paimon at least floats on top of the chair.

“allow me to introduce mr. zhongli, consultant to an organization known as wansheng… and a trusted associate of the fatui.”

“wansheng?” the traveler asks.

“indeed.” the redhead answers. “wansheng’s line of work can be… sensitive at times. let’s just say they understand when discretion is needed. and we, the fatui, have always been glad to do business with friends who walk in the shadows.”

“w-walk in the shadows..?” paimon shivers.

“it is an honor to meet you. i have heard tell of you from mondstat.” zhongli turns to you. “you as well, doctor, i have been meaning to arrange for us to meet ever since hearing word of you from childe.”

you’re pleasantly surprised by him calling you doctor for a moment, as no one has ever really referred to you in such a respectful manner. sure, childe and others have called you “doc” playfully but never fully doctor.

and then you remember who the title is usually reserved for.

“discretion… shadows… ah! is wansheng some kind of business involving… ‘dealing’ with people?” paimon panics.

“indeed. it is as you have guessed.”

“ahh!!” she screams.

“don’t worry, wansheng is a funeral parlor.” you assure her amusedly and paimon’s fear shifts to confusion.

zhongli cluelessly nods in affirmation. “the wansheng funeral parlor organizes burials. we ensure that those who pass on do so in peace.”

“e-eh?”

you hear childe laugh warmly from beside you, the warmest you’ve heard from him in years. “did you think he was some sort of hired killer? the fatui calls many such people friends, but the wansheng funeral parlor does not dabble in such business… well, ostensibly.”

“ostensibly?” you question.

“well, they are still- ah, i shouldn’t say too much. in any case, i brought you to meet mr. zhongli because…”

“because i can bring you to see rex lapis’ vessel.” the consultant follows up plainly.

“what?!” exclaims paimon.

“ha, don’t be so surprised. sure, the geo archon’s body has been squirreled away by order of the tianquan ningguang… but first, let’s hear what mr. zhongli has to say, shall we?”

how childe managed to hide such a supposed fatui associate, an insanely useful one at that, from you with all the snooping around you’d been doing is beyond your mortal comprehension. what baffles you even more is his unwavering determination to keep you as far away from the entire operation as possible, going against the order of your involvement that came directly from not only dottore, the very second fatui harbinger, but also the director of all of the fatui himself.

unfortunately you’ll still need to wait until zhongli preaches his tale before you get to strangle childe where he stands.

“rex lapis may be the prime of adepti, but he is ultimately an adeptus. many adepti have left us over the millennia- this is the inexorable trend.”

zhongli turns to the traveler. “the times have changed- you must have felt it too when you were at jueyun karst.” with the travelers confirmation, he continues. “as you have seen, the time of adepti is ending, and the time of mankind is slowly dawning.”

the dinner proceeds with talks of the rite of passing and as the traveler and zhongli become more well acquainted, they all agree to leave liuli pavilion and further discuss their arrangements.

“you can go if you want to, don’t worry about me. i might just have a few more drinks…” childe dismisses the two travelers.

“and me also. somebody needs to teach a certain other someone how to use chopsticks if we’re to stay in liyue for a good while.” you imply half-jokingly, grateful that the two get on their way quick so you can give the redhead beside you an exclusive earful.

as you feel your cheeks start to warm with the burn of the alcohol, you down decisively the last one of your drinks for the night and slam the cup on the table with vigor.

“am i some sort of joke to you?”

childe almost chokes on his own beverage at the suddenness. “e-excuse me?”

“actually no, let me rephrase that- do you think it’s funny to play around with the job i’ve been assigned here and purposefully leave me to wander around streets i don’t know like a bumbling idiot while you keep contacts like mr.fucking-rex-lapis-historian under your belt?” you practically bark.

“y/n, please, i think you might’ve drank too mu-“

“answer the question or so help me celestia, i will leave this restaurant with my hands as red as that stupid scarf of yours.”

the harbinger huffs. “alright alright! no i don’t think it’s funny to do… all of what you said. but i don’t think that’s fair- this is my mission and it’s been running smoothly since before you even got here. at least i thought it was until they decided to send more manpower with zero forewarning, do you know how insulting that is?”

“how is it insulting to have backup in case something goes wrong? that’s all i’m here for- to help, and ideally help with the investigation. but i can’t do that if i don’t know where the hell jueyun karst is, much less where else to go to look for clues.”

childe only sighs again, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingertips. “you’re right… i shouldn’t alienate you from what’s your assignment too. but let me keep up with my plan for now and if something goes awry, i’ll call you. i’ll fill you in on it tomorrow morning.”

you nod firmly- easier than you thought it’d be.

“now will you please teach me how to use these damned sticks?”

taglist ; @kentply

[demoniccomplex]

Yan! Tecchou HCS

TW: kidnapping, stalking mention-

WC: 350 - Author notes: sobbinh i hate the automatic bulleted list

Tecchou is definitely a unique case when it comes to being obsessed, as everything else about him is.

- his obsession is more likely to occur if you're a hunting dog!Darling or something close to that.

- if you're an unfortunate civilian who just got caught up in the wrong place at the wrong time, he just wants to make sure you are safe.

Civilian! Darling ♡

- definitely the stalker type but would attempt to get close to you in any way possible.

- imaging you two did get close, will become your biggest shadow <3, glaring at anyone who dares to look your way.

- does not necessarily believe he would need to kidnap you *at first*, he wants to believe you're fine on your own, these thoughts don't last long.

- it would however, take a while for him to actually kidnap you, he views you as a human not an object for the most part.

- depending on your reactions, he'll at the most get frustrated but will never EVER hit you. 

- this man wants you to be comfortable and not scared.

- will try his best to be honest with you, he doesn't like lying, especially when it comes to you and his intentions.

- definitely will not know if he is making you paranoid or uneasy with his presence.

HD! Darling

-Would pretty much go the same way just without the kidnapping. -Definitely would take the mission by himself and not let you fight just so you didn't get hurt.

-This would cause a lot of issues that would have Jouno six feet under.

-If he could, he would 100% attempt to convince you to leave the hunting dogs. Pouts at the thought of you getting hurt. -Will have the hardest time when you get paired with someone else (ahem jouno).

-lots and lots of staring.

-Acts like a lost puppy and everyone is tired of it, but they don't want to risk Tecchou getting upset.

-Refuses to fight with you verbally, he wants a calm discussion, hes helping you so why are you raising your voice at him?

[danses-with-dogmeat]

FO4 Companions React to Sole Wanting to Dress Up for Halloween

Hey guys! Happy Halloween!!

Last minute, I decided to write one more little thing to get in the spooky spirit 😁🎃

I hope you all have fun and stay safe today/night!

Cait: 

At first, it’s a hard 'no' from her, but… Well, after a few drinks, she’s a little more open to the idea. How could she say no to hastily throwing a couple of costumes together and drunkenly trick or treating with you? And scaring the crap out of a bunch of settlers? Sounds fun as hell. 

Codsworth:

Of course he’s 100% down no matter what, but if young Shaun is somehow involved? He’s 150% going to give it his all. Even if he has to make the costume himself from scratch. Codsworth will put more effort into it all than is necessary, but when he sees the smile(s) on Sole’s face, and maybe Shaun’s and the other companions as well, it will all be 150% worth it, no matter how much time he spent fretting over it all and making sure it was as true to pre-war Halloween as possible.

Curie:

Oh, she’s psyched for it! Curie doesn’t need any convincing at all, and she’s all about dressing up, no matter if she’s a synth yet or not. 

As the two of you roam around the settlement at night, she can’t help but give the children some pointers on health and the importance of a balanced diet, but it’s still fun to see the wonder in her eyes each time someone comes up in costume, or a decoration catches her attention. It's a fun night :)

Danse:

It’s hard to get the Paladin to take a day off, but, if it’s to take part in one of these pre-war customs that he’s been dying to participate in… He supposes one day off won’t kill anyone. You’ll have to help him with getting his costume together, and with figuring out what he wants to be, but he’s willing to take part. If, for no other reason, than for curiosity’s sake, or for, ahem, research purposes. 

At least that’s what he says, but the smile on his face the whole night may say otherwise. 

Deacon:

A day where it’s normal to dress up as someone/thing else, to be in disguise? Deacon is all over it, and he’s more than glad to participate. He won’t need any convincing at all, and maybe the day would even be good for testing out the Mr. Handy disguise he’s been working on recently… 

Dogmeat:

He’ll admit (not with words, obviously) that he’s not the biggest fan of dressing up if it becomes too cumbersome to let him trail after Sole while trick or treating, but he’ll do it for them. Come on, he’ll do anything for Sole… and he does like wearing those little goggles and the bandana, so if it’s not too crazy, he’s absolutely into dressing up. 

If Sole puts anything on his feet though, he WILL do the weird little walk where his legs come up way too high, and it WILL embarrass him. So just be aware of that when considering costuming. 

Hancock:

He cosplays as a founding father every damn day, and he’s all about a good time, so obviously you hardly even need to ask to get him in costume and into the festivities. Odds are he’ll end up going as some sexy version of something or another for the slew of Halloween parties raging throughout Goodneighbor, and you’ll be tagging along on his arm with a broad smile on your face. Hancock is really in his element more than ever on Halloween night. 

MacCready:

He actually does require some convincing. Don’t get MacCready wrong, Halloween is fun and all, but without Duncan… it’s hard to participate and have a good time while his mind keeps reeling back to his son, still so far away, still without him. He may still go out with you, to keep his mind off things, but it’ll be hard to get him to dress up at all. 

When him and Duncan are back together again though? It’s all over for you. Him and his boy will have the best paired costumes that caps can buy… or that snipers can find. 

Nick:

He’s actually super into it. Pre-war customs and making kids happy? Nick’s all over it. He loves going out into the town and seeing all the kids dressed up, he loves handing out sweets and scaring adults and winking at the kids with a chuckle and a nod of his hat. It’s one of his favorite nights of the year. 

Piper:

She’s 100% on board from the very start. 

What? You think she hasn’t been planning her and Nat’s costumes since last year’s Halloween? Oh ho, well you’re in for a treat. She’s been working on the costumes for months, and no one trick or treats quite like this reporter and her feisty little sister. 

Preston:

Another one who’s difficult to convince to take a day off, but Preston eventually relents, only when you tell him that he can still be working to protect the settlement even while walking around the neighborhood in costume. He has a lot of fun all through the night, though, and he’s really glad he did it. It makes all of his hard work, to make things more safe, more domestic, more… like they once were, before all the bombs, it just makes it all seem worth it. 

Strong:

Strong doesn’t understand weird human customs. But getting to frighten little humans with his bigness? Getting to dress up even more frightening to scare more humans more than usual? 

Strong guesses that could be fun. 

Try to dress him up cute or funny though, and he will tear the costume to shreds. And then tear Sole’s costume to shreds too, just for good measure. So… y’know, just let the mutant scare some people. He’ll have a great time. 

X6-88:

No. It’s a firm ‘no’ too. 

He doesn’t mind, though, if you want to dress up. That’s up to you, and he won’t stop you, but… Yeah, no. It’s not for him. 

However, after the fact, once he’s seen the way some costumes can be cripplingly frightening, well… X6 is a little more enthusiastic to participate next year and scare the living shit out of as many wastelanders as he can. That sounds like a good time. 

[nanomooselet]

Episode Four: Hungry!

Full disclosure, it took me a while to warm up to Wolfwood.

I hadn't read the manga or watched the older adaptation. Didn’t know anything about him except his ridiculous gun and that he was a priest (hence the ridiculous gun, because anime). I couldn't figure out why he was present in the narrative, except... because he was in the manga and older adaption. It seemed a little indulgent; I wanted more time with Meryl. He wasn’t even a priest. Obviously Nick has plenty of homoerotic tension with Vash, but all due respect and sympathy to Vash/Wolfwood shippers, m/m pairings have always left me cold (to be fair, pairings generally do that irrespective of gender. Desire unfulfilled is more my speed).

Sad to say that I still don't ship Vash/Wolfwood, but I did definitely come to understand why people do and why they like the guy. Though am I the only one baffled that Vash gets cast as the virginal princess so often? After this look?

Whew. No wonder Wolfwood looks like he got hit with a two-by-four. Ahem.

This is a very necessary episode that feels maybe too "necessary", like they realised they needed to introduce everything it introduces and didn't leave enough time to integrate it all naturally. It's too tight, and Stampede is already a show so tight it squeaks. Still, I think blowing Wolfwood's cover before the day was out was, if not the only right decision, not a wrong one. Almost immediately this guy comes across as sketchy, half from that he's barely trying to act like he's not (which absolutely sends me; he really hates his job) and half that he's just... an awkward dude, angry and obviously hurt in a way he won’t admit to. And while we know there's more to Vash than his façade, it's hard to tell just how smart he really is, how perceptive, because this is Vash. Meryl is the type to show off her knowledge, because she's young and eager to prove herself. Vash is a creature of endless masks and insurmountable walls. He refuses to, as he sees it, burden anyone else with his thoughts.

So we do exactly what Zazie does in this episode: show Vash something wounded and vulnerable because he'd tear off his own skin if it would make things easier for someone else. Except instead Wolfwood is the one who feels a little too exposed, of course. It's so funny to me how obviously he didn't expect this? And how frustrated when he realises he'll have to drag this self-sacrificial lunatic all the way to July alive without becoming attached. I honestly think he failed in that latter part before they even got shot out of the Worm. Vash is just so loving, and so loveable.

Also, the Worm guys (as I mentally call them) might be my favourite minor characters next to Rosa and her offsiders. They're a hilarious audience to the madness. I’m glad they got so many dinners in one go.

And Zazie - what a great character, one I genuinely think is an improvement over prior incarnations rather than just being different from them. Nail game on point, entirely free of fucks given, and a sterling addition to the cast. I'll talk more about our buggy friend later, and I have more to say about Wolfwood besides that hitting him with the trailer forced me to pause the video until I stopped cackling.

Finally, the closing scene chills me in hindsight for a number of reasons, but what gets me the most is that it's a bookend. At the episode's start, Vash refused to eat. Wolfwood had to convince him to. And it's not that he can't use his Gate, it's that he's decided to keep it closed, so something will have to make him decide to lay bare his power once more.

And somehow, I can't imagine Knives asking nicely.

[ikari-shinsei]

Meet Zane Rivers!

My Tumblr says that I'm just an artist, but I've been hesitant to post any of my actual art until now.

So I've decided to finally do it, starting with one of my first original characters, Zane Rivers.

Zane was originally made to be a Miraculous OC who I paired with Adrien. I even made a fic for him on Quotev that I haven't updated in over two years because seasons 4 and 5 kinda made me lose some motivation.

He's the son of a famous musician from America, and his family moved to Paris, where Zane meets his new friends in François Dupont, and becomes the superhero, Silver Wolf.

Zane is kind, supportive, calm, and kinda reserved, but he isn't a pushover by any means, and will call people out on their bad behaviour, which especially puts him at odds with the likes of Chloé Bourgeois, the two forming a sort of rivalry because Zane is someone who refuses to just let Chloé walk all over everyone and get away with it. This aspect of him is what allows him to be fast friends with Marinette, Alya, and Nino in particular, who know firsthand how nasty Chloe can actually be, while with Adrien, he makes it his duty to help him realise that he doesn't deserve to have to put up with toxic people in his life, whether that's Chloé or someone else close to Adrien. (ahem, Gabriel)

As Silver Wolf, he takes hero work seriously, but will allow himself time to have fun with what he does, acting as a middle man between Ladybug and Cat Noir. He has the ability to stop time for 20 seconds, which makes tasks like rescuing innocent bystanders less of a hassle.

What makes Zane truly special however is his relationship with the quantum masking aspect of the Miraculouses, which is that he can see through the magic that hides other Miraculous heroes' identities depending on how many similarities there are between their civilian and powered forms, and how much effort is put into hiding their signature features. So Silver immediately figures out Ladybug's identity upon meeting her, while it took him about a day to figure out who Cat Noir was.

Knowing who Cat Noir was is what got Zane to start admiring Adrien, since he gets to see through the mask that Adrien wears, both literally and figuratively, and he is able to love every aspect of him, from his soft kindness, to his silly fun side.

While Zane was originally a Miraculous OC, over the years, I've started seeing him as a sort of all-purpose OC, in that I have a lot of fun putting him in all sorts situations, such as scenarios where he isn't Silver Wolf, and instead wields other Miraculouses, or I put him in AUs where he has the role of Adrien and becomes the Cat Hero, which are especially fun with my friend @gsstories's characters.

And he's not limited to Miraculous. I like putting him in other fandoms such as Sonic the Hedgehog, or Friday Night Funkin', or My Hero Academia to name a few, and seeing how he would fit in.

Zane is near and dear to my heart, and I hope anyone who finds this post would like him too.

[tangirlisfangirl]

could you write a blurb or something on that nick and jacob post its been all ive thought about since you posted it 🫣

ASFBJFLSKDHJS OKAY ONLY CAUSE THE ORIGINAL IS BLOWING UP SO MUCH and because you asked so nicely <3

under the cut so i don’t clog m’blog :P

okay so along with being inserted into the relationships of the characters ive also been trying to figure out the mechanics of being inserted into various scenes, and the easiest would be at the beginning before the fire pit

ryan and dylan would still pair off and kaitlyn would still hold down the fort-aka-the-pit, but emma and abi would get supplies together instead leaving YOU to decide who you want to spend time with more

going with jacob means a fun mission raiding the store, laughing and riffing off of his dumb jokes in a way no one else does, how could he not adore you? there’s a moment where neither of you can reach something on the top shelf, “hey jake you mind giving me a boos-WOW you just picked me up like it was nothing that sports coaching all summer really payed off huh?”

(this scenario would happen to anyone no matter the size btw, remember he’s a beefcake fueled by a determination to impress you <3)

but going with nick means a gorgeous walk during the sunset, just like those cheesy romance movies the some of the campers voted to watch during weekend nights at the lodge〜 it’s so soft and genuine as you talk about what’s next in life, whether you’re passionate about something or just as lost as he is you make him feel better, and he’d probably shyly give you a wildflower or two he picked along the way!! under the guise of saying thank you, of course, but you both know better

whoever you choose though the other will be DEVASTATED, either jacob being left with kaitlyn to tease him endlessly, tearing down his confidence and causing his internal self loathing dialogue to spiral, or worse yet nick who isn’t as close with kaitlyn so they both silently set up and he’s left to stew in his own insecurity that resurfaces later… you know when 👀

wait actually!!! so then at the campfire whoever you decide to kiss— if it’s not the same guy you hung out with before he feels betrayed, but if it is then that just deepens the blow for the other— whoever you passed over storms off upset so you go after them, and then whoever you did kiss is left starstruck for a bit before coming back to earth and realizing it’s not safe for you to run off into the woods at night so he goes to look for you because he lowkey thinks you’re official and immediately takes up the duty of protecting you lol

for simplicity’s sake it’s easier to imagine you go after nick and jacob looks for you alone so it closer matches the original storyline, i’m going with that so i don’t have to keep talking vaguely but it could work either way y’all fill in the blanks ʅ（◞‿◟）ʃ

so THAT leads to you and nick getting attacked by the wolf, you being unharmed but nick being infected, getting rescued by the gang and dragged back to the pit— the only reason you don’t go back for jacob is because you have severe injuries taking up your attention and care— no matter what happened earlier nick is endlessly grateful and makes sure to… ahem, express it

but shit hits the fan with him and you realize there are ACTUAL monsters out there, how could you have left jacob to fend for himself!? despite nick jumping out the window not minutes ago you grab the group’s shotgun and insist the others go back to the lodge for safety, minus laura and ryan, they have their own agenda, you couldn’t care, you just want to fix the mess you caused

you meet up with infected jacob after he escapes from hackett house, you’re apologizing endlessly but trailing off as you realize he’s not the same, all too familiar with that increasing aggression…

he turns, but little did you know nick followed you the minute he tracked your scent in his transformed state, and i’m thinking this is where and this is where all their jealousy and possession comes to a head as they start clawing and biting and tearing and tossing each other around with their inhuman strength

you raise your gun, but… they’re not hurting anyone else, technically, you could leave them, but what if they kill each other? what if you kill one of them? laura did give you a makeshift silver shell but the last thing you want to do is make a permanently lasting decision, then again, what if in the crossfire, they manage to kill you?

better make your choice… anytime one of the crushes-turned-beasts get the upper hand they bound toward you before getting pulled back by the other— you always back up but they keep getting closer, and you swear you can see the lust in their yellow eyes each time

[satashiiwrites]

wip whenever/Wednesday

so… i know I’ve been tagged a few times in the last two weeks or so but work has been a dumpster fire like usual. Working on my day off at getting a few things spiffed up for posting but I keep returning to this idea so it’s getting expounded upon (and it’s not because my starfield character looks like Glawen’s twin….)

Ahem. Bel and Glawen are couples goals.

Still needs a title tho.

Tagging @monsterrae1 @tkwritesdumbassassins @quietborderline @missanniewhimsy @westernlarch @rosieposiepuddingnpie @whimsyswastry @outtoshatter @alyxmastershipper @valandhirwriter and anyone else who wants to play along. No pressure as always.

Wip whenever banner by radiochatter.

Title: Untitled Bel/Glawen Foundation fic (taking suggestions at this point)

Fandom: Foundation TV

Pairing: Bel Riose/Glawen Curr, likely mentions of Cleon XVII/Demerzel

Fic summary:

Bel Riose has believed his husband dead for the last six years.  It’s a punishment worse than death, knowing that it was his defiance that signed his lover’s death warrant. Now, Empire has summoned him back to Trantor because there is a job only the Hero of the Twentieth Fleet can do… and his Glawen is alive. 

Tags/warnings: angst. Mention of previous torture/imprisonment (canon for tv series). Glawen is dripping words of revolution in his husband’s ear eventually. First draft. Pining—all the angsty pining. Reunions. Space opera/science fiction setting. Suicidal thoughts because Bel wants to be with Glawen.

He doesn’t believe her. Not really.  

Bel does a good impression of being unbroken, but it’s a simulacrum of his former self. Years of torture and constant reminders that his husband had been executed because of his decisions have broken something essential in him.  

He used to think he was fearless. 

Now, he is nothing but fear. 

He fears that Demerzel isn’t lying, and he fears that she is. 

Bel makes no effort to rid himself of the filth he’s become accustomed to. If Empire wants to speak with him, he will see him as he is. He’s proud of the dirt underneath his fingernails and the grit that has tattooed itself into his sunburnt skin. His gait, once so proud, is now unsteady, and his muscles atrophied from almost starvation.

Imprisonment has carved away all his excesses and all of his niceties.  

He’s remade the legions he used to command out of his fellow prisoners. He is one of them, and he bargains only for them. A man of his people and one who would die for them just as he would have for any of his soldiers that had been his downfall. 

If Demerzel is merciful, she’ll finally allow him to die and be reconnected with his husband—his Glawen. 

The journey to Trantor is mercifully quick from the salt fields of Lepsis. Each kilometer they travel is another step closer to his death, and the resolve that has sustained him for the last six years sharpens his tongue into a blade that he will use to deal the final blow to his own ego. 

He already died six years ago with his Glawen. The husk Lady Demerzel escorts is his shade, vengeful and vicious. 

Hollowed out yet burning with an intellect bound only by oaths he was foolish enough to still believe because he has nothing else. Perhaps he really will still be of some use… or perhaps not. 

Glawen…I’m so sorry…

Damn him to the darkest and deepest hole. There’s a part of him that hopes his husband is alive. That Demerzel isn’t lying to him, and he has been torturing himself for six years for no reason. 

It can’t be real. This new gambit is a lie.

An attempt is made to allow him to clean himself up. One glance in a mirror is all it takes for him to refuse. His hair is long and straggly, touching his shoulders in clumps dyed the red of the dirt he slept in the last six years. Sores cover his joints, and the latest laceration left by a whip upon his face is untended. His teeth are yellow from the nutrient paste that’s been his only sustenance.  

If Empire calls him like a master does its dog, he will remain an unclean cur to the last breath. Let the genetic monstrosity be offended by his smell and see what an abused animal looks like. 

Demerzel’s barest hint of a smirk makes him bare his rotting teeth at her, swallowing the urge to growl. He’s pleased her and hopes it will be enough for her to grant him his final release. 

Barefoot, he walks the halls of the palace. More than one courtier covers their nose as he passes, and whispers follow him. Despite his changed appearance, he is recognized. General Bel Riose, Hero of the Twentieth Fleet and husband to Glawen Curr, his Fleet Supremus, now fallen, widowed, and renamed prisoner 731. 

A living example of the hubris of defying Empire’s will—even if it had been the right thing to do. 

He’s brought to the throne room, and the cracked part of his mind cackles manically, calling him a stupid dog as he’s brought to heel and paraded about, the brand on the back of his neck itching to remind him he is property. 

Emperor Dawn cannot hide his response to Bel’s hygiene, but the other two, Day and Dusk, are unmoved but he spies an irritated light in Day’s eyes. The collars about Dawn’s and Dusk’s necks suggest they are as much pets of Day as Bel is, and this observation amuses him enough that he stands proudly before them, unbowed.  

They’re all wearing those fucking blue dresses, the shade darkening with age from the powder blue of Dawn’s to the midnight of Dusk’s.  Dawn is a pasty faced teenager and Dusk a prematurely aged and impotent troll. 

[sisterdivinium]

Hi I'm AvMila anon. THANK YOU SO MUCH!! ❤️ AAAAAaaaaahhhhhhh sorry for screaming. But you inaugurating the Ava/Camila tag on ao3 with your own piece is just... It's top 5 one of the sweetest things someone has done for me. You truly looked at my crackship and said why not and went ahead and created the very first entry, and probably the only one lol, but that's so considerate. Thank you truly. I enjoyed it, and I loved DocSuperion's cameo. Jillian finding them cuddling and surely thinking to herself "well, aren't all of us at this house a little (a lot) fruity"

I read your elaboration on the "spam" thing. I get it now, I didn't understand what the issue was at first, but you explained it well. I have had something similar happen in other fandoms, I wasn't much into the main pairing and my ship was also just sort of floating around them as accessories to them. And yeah it's disappointing. It would be good and also kind of authors to mention, hey my main focus will be this ship or these 2 characters, all other tags point to support roles so they won't get much spotlight or development. Thank you again, you're very kind :) I loved what you wrote for my little crazy ship

Hello again!

Oh, I'm very, very happy to know that ficlet was to your liking <3 You're very much welcome.

I'm not exactly popular but hey, who knows, maybe someone else will look at it and get a little idea for a story to tell about Ava and Camila as well -- and perhaps give the tag a little push forward in the process. I hope so!

And, you know, I'd consider something like JC/Miguel more of a crackship than Ava/Cam. To me, only one out of those two pairings could have an internal logic with the correct build-up (although I wouldn't censor anyone willing to make JC/Miguel a thing, LOL. To each their own, but THAT's something I wouldn't touch!) I'm sure the avatrice diehards might disagree with me (and, to be fair, as a Jillian/Suzanne diehard, I'm myself irrationally protective of my OTP and wouldn't be caught near any other pairing that involved either Jillian or Superion -- I, too, have my childish shipping faults :)), but I can see something in there for Ava and Camila, it does makes sense. Even if just for a small little scene like the one I wrote -- why not, you know?

I sometimes wonder if people don't get a bit too attached to longfic. I imagine it has its charms, but as someone who prefers to write smaller but "tighter" stories, fooling around with other ships comes a lot easier. I'm not bound to a leviathan ninety-eight chapter story and can just play with different concepts in each little fic that comes to mind. And it's fun, what can I say? I had a blast writing Ava/Cam for you that day. It's not the greatest thing ever written in the history of English Literature, granted, but then it doesn't have to be which is a good reminder for myself as I struggle with my current doctor superion project... Ahem.

As for the "spam" deal, yeah, I thought it had just been miscommunication and you'd know what I meant if I just explained it a little better, so I'm glad that got cleared up as well. I don't think certain corners of the fandom will ever come across this series of posts that took place on my blog this week, so I'm not hopeful that the conversation will reach those it should reach as concerns tagging, but who knows. Fandoms were more organised once, perhaps they might again find it in their hearts to remember we don't all like the same things and that it would be a welcome courtesy to take us into consideration when tagging for alternative ships.

Anyway. Thanks for stopping by again! And let me reiterate how happy I am to know that you enjoyed my humble offering to your ship! <3

[udaberriwrites]

For the OTP game -- Napoleon and Laurence, 2 and 19 (sorry if they're not something you ship! If it's not your thing, feel free to ignore this). Have a good day!

Thank you for the ask! 💜

First, this is a very interesting ship indeed! Napoleon is quite charming in the books and he definitely takes notice of Laurence, particularly after Empire of Ivory. In fact, I do have a fic I want to write for them, but fair warning, it's in the very early plotting/researching stages so it won't be out any time soon :P

2 and 19... tough, very tough.

2) who says “I love you” more?

It depends. On a normal relationship I would definitely say Laurence, since he does seem to be the more outspoken and romantic partner with both Edith and Roland; even with Tenzing, Laurence is often very direct when it comes to admitting that he cares about him.

However, we do have to take the... ahem, particular circumstances into account. In a book 4 divergence, or really in any universe where they are on opposing sides, I fully believe that Napoleon would say it first and often... and it would be one more weapon and one more layer in the web he's weaving to snare the handsome Englishman with the inconveniently strong loyalty to his country.

...That doesn't mean it would be untrue, mind you, but one doesn't become Emperor and revolutionize European dragon rights without being able to multitask xD

19) who clings to the other for comfort when they’re sad or scared?

Do these two ever get scared? I mean, between Napoleon's unwavering belief that he's always in the right and Laurence's unshakeable morals, I don't think there's a lot that can faze either of them. Also, (and this isn't me trying to dodge the question) I think they'd probably lean on Lien and Temeraire respectively before anyone else, especially for the later pair.

That being said... if I have to pick between only these two, I'd say Laurence. Not easily, he certainly didn't lean much on others during Blood of Tyrants, but again, he does seem more willing to admit that he's not invincible and he did listen to Tharkay dueing his darkest hour. Plus, depending on the scenario he'd have more reasons to be sad.

Not that the inverse wouldn't be fun, and I do believe Napoleon would be more willing to admit to these negative emotions to Laurence (who he knows will never betray his confidence) than to anyone else.

... And I think that's it. Thanks again, and have a good day as well!!

[luxmaeastra]

She tilted her face up to him letting his fingers skin over her chin and neck. She was sure her lips were as swollen as his was. His gaze was unnerving she didn't remember the last time someone saw through all her masks. 

"Einar what are you looking for?"

Her words were hushed barely disturbing the dust of the room they'd found themselves in. His fingers moved down to her throat curling around it. She let him, she was a warrior, probably even better than he was. Aunt Hypaxia had made sure she could fight and adapt to any terrain or style agaisnt her. At least in that she understood her parents, the calm of sparring and rush of release it gave.

"I'm trying to figure out what spell you've put on me Lorin. I've never wanted anyone as much as I've wanted you."

He leaned down to kiss her, she gripped his tunic tugging him closer. Letting him lead, letting him devour her. With him all the noise stopped, with him all the anxiety flowed away. 

He pulled back lips trailing along her jaw.

"Do you truly think your parents will stop us? They seem honorable Lorin."

Her eyes closed and she tipped her head back. In her mind she saw the flame her mother kept at her altar. The one she had taken as a small candle from Vallhan. The holy flame of her mother's hearth. 

Her mother believed in the Mother, in her Priestesses and everything that entailed. She wouldn't understand this. Yes it was a passion, a tryst that most likely wouldn't survive their court. She didn't even know if it was meant to be more than it was. 

"My mother is a lot of things. But she is most definitely not as honorable as you think her to be. My father will support whatever decision she makes."

Like he always does. It's not like the two of them had bothered to know her. She licked her lips fingers moving to trace his jaw, to play with his fiery hair. 

"What of your parents? Surely your parents will approve of a strong match? My parents would be forced to be more loyal than they already are to her."

Einar hummed, his eyes slipping closed. He turned to kiss her fingers reveling in the way her breath caught.

"Yes but they'll see my devotion to you as a weakness. They want a strong alliance not one built on loyalty to anyone else but them."

His father may see some understanding but he'd never support it if he knew how desperately Einar wanted it. 

"Emotions are things to be controlled Einar. They aren't meant to control you."

His mother would take one look at Lorin and deem her too meek to be her daughter-in-law. 

But then no one asked him what he wanted. He was mean to be grateful with what he had and never complain. A sentiment he knew Lorin must have felt too growing up in Night. Not for the first time he wondered how she survived Hewn.

He leaned down to kiss her pressing her back against the wall. For now they could have this stolen moment one of many. Stolen breaths, stolen snippets of a future they may never have.

Neither heard the door open....

//for anyone! Discard the door if you just want to continue the scene. 🥰//

Ahem. Narcissus cleared his throat as he stood in the doorway, his arms folded as his eyes fixed upon the two younger forms. It had been more obvious than the pair of them were aware, did they not realize the hormones they gave off or the very obvious way they had looked at each other.

"I am sorry to interrupt the pair of you, but Einar, your mother is looking for you," he stated, acting as if he had just walked in on them reading a book. "You may want to tidy up, you know how much your mother dislikes it when you are so disshelved."

Maybe if Lorin had been a child of another he would have been more welcoming of the idea, the idea of being tied closer to Rhysand made him feel uneasy. He already had enough sway with Amarantha, to add more due to the union of their children.

[crackinglamb]

Fic Writer's Ask: I know all these, but let's play anyway... 5, 31, and 44. *bonk* 😘

Thank you for the asks. *bonk bonk* 😘 You knew what you were doing asking these particular questions, so I hope you're ready for this.

5 - What are your fanfic pet peeves? Do they have a huge effect on whether or not you decide to read something?

Oh, we're going straight out of the gate today, eh? All right. My biggest current pet peeve is authors who use every conceivable combination of their chosen pairing's tags. Especially if they don't apply. I will use this as a relevant example because I see it all the damn time: tagging Solas/Lavellan also as Solas/OC. If your character is one of the named protagonists of the source material, then they are not an original character for tagging purposes. It skews the filtering! (cue me doing this in the background: 🤬🤬🤬) Excluding Solavellan from the Solas/OC archive drops the number of works by over a hundred, and that's just in the female category. And while that doesn't sound like a lot, for that particular pairing it's almost 20% of the total works.

For those of you who don't know, AO3's coding hierarchy will automatically put the pairing under the relevant 'highest level' of the tag. Continuing the example, all Solas/Lavellan works will show up in both the Lavellan ship AND Solas/Inquisitor archives. Even if the pairing is tagged as background. Even if the Lavellan is not the Inquisitor of the story. Adding every permutation of the ship tag simply is not necessary.

And that leads to another pet peeve. Tagging ships that aren't relevant or aren't explicitly portrayed in the story is annoying af and, again, skews the filtering. I love Adoribull almost as much as I love Solas/anyone. But if the story isn't ABOUT Dorian and Bull, don't put the tag there. Or at least denote that they are not the focus. 'Background relationships' exists as a tag for a reason. (cue more grumbling).

I guess mostly my pet peeves are about proper tagging. Like, this system isn't rocket science. Put the stuff that's relevant, warn for stuff that needs to be warned about, and don't try to pad just for the sake of it. I don't mind conversational tags, sometimes they're the best part of the filtering process, but FFS, keep it brief. We only have so many slots allotted to us these days.

Ahem, right, moving on. Does it have a huge effect on my reading said work? Yes, yes it does. Unless there are mitigating circumstances (such as MCIT that becomes the named protag, or there is more than one ship going on), I probably won't read it. Same goes for improper use of archive warnings. If you've got both 'chose not to warn' and 'no warnings apply' I'm going to assume you don't know what you're doing and probably don't want to read your work. Yes, I'm incredibly picky. No, I will not apologize for it.

31 - Of the characters you write for, which is your favorite? Has that choice been swayed at all by your followers/readers’ reactions to certain ones?

You're asking me - ME! - to choose? 🤣🤣🤣

We talk a lot about how I like the broken ones, and you're not wrong by any stretch about it. The broken ones are fascinating, and I love to get in their heads to figure out how they tick. So, I like writing about Solas, and Varric, and Dorian, and Bull, and Hancock, and Kellogg, and Nine. Even though, perspective wise, I'm usually writing from whatever character they're paired with. There are exceptions, of course. Both Junkyard Dogs and She's My Plus One are actually in the POV of their respective Broken Down Man(tm).

As far as that being influenced by readers? Nah. I write what I want to read. I am my own target demographic (with you as a close second), so other than the two of us peapods, my writing is very rarely swayed by anyone else.

44 - Rant about something writing related.

*snort* I love you. Permission to get on a soapbox will always be taken.

So, there's 'why won't the characters do what I want them to?' And 'why does it take so much braining to make the words go?' 'Why is there so much elitism in hobbies?', that's always a favorite.

And actually, that one might be the winner. At least a variation thereof. I will preface by stating that I know perfectly well that I am very picky about what I read. I'm not the sort who will automatically click on a fic just because I'm familiar/friendly with the author. A fic has to pique my interest or I won't read it. Because yes, this is a hobby, it's not homework. There are zero obligations (unless you're in an exchange, but that's different). And with that said, I'm also perfectly aware that there are plenty of people out there who don't view fanfiction the way I do. They are, collectively with all of their sundry reasons, entitled to their opinions and I am entitled to agree or disagree as applicable without anyone getting butthurt about it.

But why is it that fanfic has a reputation for being beneath the dignity of 'real' literature?

I mean, I know why, at some level. It's the Great White Male syndrome. So many fic authors are women, GNC, trans, some flavor of queer, POC or disabled. Or any combination of the above. We write about circumstances and reactions and desires that go against the Established Way of the World.

But I have had fic move me to tears far more often than any 'classic' novel I was ever assigned to read at school. I have read fics that transported me to entire new planes of emotional thought and consideration. I have found community and understanding and learned things I would have had no other way to learn.

And sure, some of it's terrible. There's plenty of fic out there that makes my skin crawl, either from subject matter or execution. Or both. But that doesn't lessen its impact as being part of free expression. The drive to create is inherently human. And there is nothing new under the sun. Every fantasy subgenre, Arthurian legend and even the damn Bible is a transformative work of something older. Who came first, the Greeks or the Romans? Oral traditions became written ones. But it's all fanfiction at its core.

Hmm, this is less of a rant and more a defense. So be it. I will defend fanfiction to my dying breath, even if someday I stop writing it. I will support the freedom of expression for all who put words to paper, even if I won't read them. And I will laugh at anyone who tries to make me - or anyone else - feel ashamed for it. Because anyone who thinks fanfiction isn't 'real' writing has obviously never read anything ever.

How's that?

[farfarawayinthelandof]

Hi! I saw you don’t have any miraculous stuff yet. Can I request a Marinette x f! reader. Reader is new to the school and quickly becomes her friend and Marinette doesn’t know how to react when she finds out reader has a crush on her. She realizes that she fell for reader while she was hanging out with Adrian. Please.

MARINETTE X FEM!READER ONESHOT

Thank you so much for your request(s)! I absolutely love this one.

fem!reader

warnings: none!

ੈ♡˳·˖✶

As the students of Francoise Dupont got into the routine of the new school year, there was a last minute transfer. That transfer being you, Y/N. You were full of excitement and nerves to finally be starting at a new school, thrilled to meet new friends, but also nervous, for fear of being left out. Your fears has faded away, however, when you met your new classmates, especially her.

Her being Marinette Dupain-Cheng, the class president tasked with showing you around for the day. She had a creative and talented personality, and a helping attitude, and every task, favor, and assignment never seemed to be a problem, or worry for her. You weren't sure if you wanted to be her, or with her.

By lunchtime, you had figured you wanted to be with her. You had also figured that half the class felt the same way, how could they not?

As you walked to the restroom at the end of lunch with Alya and Rose, about a week after you had first been introduced, they struck up a conversation about Marinette.

"You and Marinette are getting close? Should I have to watch my back so you don't replace me as her BFF?" Alya asks, with a light tone. Rose laughs.

You inhale sharply. "No! No, it's not like that! I would never! I-"

"Girl, relax." Alya laughs. You ease up a little bit. "I'm just teasing you. All the girls in our class are tight."

"Oh! That's nice to hear! I hope we can all be great friends."

Rose and Alya nod. "But anyway, about Marinette. You like her, don't you?" Rose asks.

'Was it that obvious?' You think woefully.

"I guess. But I know she likes Adrien." There was no point in hiding it. You trusted the two girls, and it was just a little crush.

Rose opens the door to the bathroom, holding it for you and Alya. As you thank the blonde, Alya speaks up. "I what it feels like to like someone who doesn't like you back. Nino used to have a crush on Marinette. Come to think of it, pretty much everyone in our class has had a crush on her at one point or another." Rose nods, laughing as she sprays some perfume on herself.

"Adrien?" You ask.

"That boy is absolutely clueless. His skull is *ahem* very thick. He's so dumb, for someone so smart." Alya says.

Rose agrees thoughtfully.

After your conversation with Alya and Rose, you return to your seat with newfound hope. Marinette must know Adrien is hopeless. Feeling bold, you come up with a plan.

ੈ♡˳·˖✶

Marinette had only known you for a few weeks, however, she had already felt a connection with you. She was really looking forward to becoming better friends.

On another note, Marinette had also made plans with Adrien later in the day. She had been looking forward to this project ever since she had been paired up with the young model.

Stopping at her locker, she noticed you walking towards her. You looked nervous. Had you forgotten your locker combination?

“Hey Marinette!” You said, voice masking the uncertainty you felt.

Marinette smiled, turning her attention towards you. “Hi, Y/N!”

“So, um… I was wondering - and I know this might be sudden - but I was wondering if you wanted to go out… together?”

To say Marinette had been taken aback would be an understatement. And while she liked the forwardness, Marinette had to turn you down. Who knows what could happen with Adrien tonight, even if he’s a bit clueless?

“Y/N. Listen, I… Uh, appreciate-”

You sigh. “Let me stop you right there. I understand. Hopefully we can still be good friends.”

Marinette sighed in relief. “Yeah, friends!”

You nodded towards Marinette, signaling goodbye. Well, you tried, right? And they say you miss 100 percent of the shots you don’t take.

The ravenette couldn’t help but feel guilty as she walked to Adrien. Why were you the only thing going through her mind when Adrien was right there?

This question had repeated itself throughout Marinette’s head all afternoon.

Until she realized.

Marinette felt a connection with you she never had with anyone else. It was a deep admiration, but not putting you on a pedestal, no. She saw you as real, and attainable. Unlike Adrien.

“Hey, earth to Marinette! You look a bit pale..” Adrien says, confused.

“Heh, sorry Adrien.” How was she supposed to face you tomorrow? Somehow, Marinette knew she blew it.

‘Oh, I’m no good at love!’ Thought Marinette, woefully.

The next day, you greeted Marinette as usual. But she couldn’t help but want more. And you couldn’t, either. But what were you two to do? Wasn’t any chance you two would ever be together destroyed?

After school, it had begun to rain. You sighed in defeat. You didn’t have an umbrella, and your parent(s) were at work. There was no one to help you. You tried to ask Alya or Nino for a ride, but they already left before you could.

Damn.

“Hey, Y/N?” Said a timid voice.

You turned to find Marinette, sheltered by the school’s roof, standing behind you.

“Hi, Marinette!” You say cheerfully. You are doing your best to make sure that your confession doesn’t get in the way between you two.

“If you don’t have an umbrella, you can use mine” She said, smiling nervously.

“Oh no, I couldn’t. My parent(s) will be off soon, I can wait for them.”

“Please… or at least walk back to my house until you can get picked up.”

You struggle for a bit. That did sound like a good deal. Plus, you could show Marinette that you could be friends and not make it weird.

“Alright,” you say.

“Perfect!”

You and Marinette begin walking to her house, talking about all sorts of things, like new video games, the best ways to bake cookies, and current fashion trends. The conversation flows naturally, never leaving an awkward moment between the two of you.

Marinette now knew 100% that it was you, not Adrien that she liked. Everything with him felt forced, but with you, it was all natural, and so fun.

You both walked into the bakery, Marinette holding the door out for you while you walked in. You greeted Marinette’s parents having already met Tom at a school function.

Marinette walks you to her room where you both spend the afternoon playing video games and procrastinating homework.

It gets a little quiet after Marinette wins the match for the hundredth time, and she looks over to you.

“I’m… sorry. I hope my rejection didn’t make things awkward for us.”

You smiled, albeit fake, reassuringly. “No, no! It’s totally fine.” Not really sure what else to say, you stop there.

Marinette looks down at her hands. “The thing is, yesterday… when I was at Adrien’s house, I realized that I…”

Your internal dialogue was going crazy. ‘Oh my gosh, does she not want to be friends?! Doesn’t she want to be more than friends?! Please, spill it out!’

“… I really like you” Marinette finished.

Your head spins suddenly to face Marinette, giving you whiplash. You cannot believe what you just heard.

“You… do?” To be honest, you weren’t even 100% sure she liked girls.

Marinette nods.

But now… everything has changed. You smile to yourself.

“Cool”

“Cool?!”

“Yeah,” You say. “Let’s go out. Right now.”

“Right now?!”

“Yes!”

Grabbing your shoes in coat, with Marinette en suite, she grabs the black umbrella, and you both bid goodbye to her parents.

“Alright, where to first?” You ask her, laughing.

“I think I know just the place.”

“Well then, please,” you gesture your hand out to her. She grabs it. “Lead the way.”

I tried to not make this too long/dialogue heavy. I hope you liked it!

no beta, we're dying like men

[opalsiren]

things mako mermaids got right that weren't featured in h2o:

a large supporting cast: by the time we get to season four numerous land people are aware of the existence of merpeople and are able to support them in hiding the secret. i understand why the h2o writers chose for the girls to only tell their boyfriends about their identities, and obviously budget constraints are a concern, but i think the extended family ensemble just works

older mermaids: this is only something small, but i like that we get to see slightly older mermaids like rita and veridia actually in their mermaid forms. it’s something that we didn’t get to see on h2o that i personally would have vibed with *shrug emoji*

some of the particulars of mermaid-ness like mermaids having beautiful hair, being terrified of cats, and having a penchant for seafood couldn't exist in h2o for obvious reasons, but i'm going to shout them out here since i think these were clever and creative choices on the part of the writers especially poseidon’s existence since i maintain that the only thing missing from h2o is cats and have assigned rikki an elder lady cat named gramps

characters's parents being told about their mermaid status: of course this is only something hinted at the end of season four. still it’s something i would have liked to see on h2o. i’m glad that zac’s parents eventually learned about his true identity and could presumably help him to navigate both worlds to which he belongs

land person-turned-mermaid losing their tail, but it's a good thing: in the og series the audience is meant to read gracie giving up her tail as a bad thing, since it caused her relationship with max and her friendships with the girls to end. charlotte losing her tail is not supposed to be a bad thing for the audience, but as a charlotte sympathizer it’s pretty heartbreaking to watch. evie’s admittedly half-hearted arc in gaining a tail and then losing it is quite refreshing in comparison. she is able to go back to her normal life and is no longer burdened with the secret when she finally accepts what has happened to her

mermen: the concept is yawn-inducing for me, but considering the amount of 'lewis/zane/ash/will become mermen' fic which circulates, i'm going to go ahead and say that introducing mermen was a good choice. dissenting opinions accepted at this time!

things mako mermaids got wrong that h2o also got wrong:

the stringent heterosexuality of every single character: i understand that we’re talking about kids’s shows which aired in the early 2000s, but must near every single character end up in a heterosexual union?

lack of racial and ethnic diversity: most of the characters in h2o are white, and the characters of colour are periphery at best. there is more diverse representation in mako mermaids but it isn’t always handled in the most, ahem, tactful way (e.g the whitewashing of mimmi, the miscasting of weilan, etc.)

misogynistic writing resulting in pointless female rivalries: see, for example, nixie and evie getting into a cat fight in early season one over a pair of shoes. that scene was written by a man, i just know it

characters that are not from australia having australian accents: i can kind of give h2o a pass for this one since bella (and will, now that i think of it) may have spent a good chunk of her childhood in aus and picked up the accent, but why does weilan, who has never set foot there until the final season, speak with an aussie twang? no seriously, if anyone has an explanation for this bar 'casting an actor to do a chinese accent would have been too much bother' i'm all ears!

the ever-evolving cast: why does no one who acts in the makoverse want to stick around for more than one season? half the supporting characters of h2o season one don't appear in season two, and half of those remaining characters don't appear in season three. it's worse on mako mermaids as the main trio of mermaids is constantly changing. how is the viewer supposed to get attached, let alone watch characters develop organically over a number of seasons, if the mains keep getting replaced?

things mako mermaids got wrong that h2o managed to get right:

the visual appeal of its magical jewellery: this one is entirely subjective, but i’m just going to say it: the moon rings are ugly. especially compared to the iconic h2o lockets. i suppose it could be argued that the lockets were designed by a human to blend in with the world of land people, while the moon rings are from the mermaid world so must appear more bright and fantastical. this doesn’t detract from the face that they are garish and artificial looking. also, if you're attempting to hide your mermaid identity on land, why wear a ring that has a mermaid on it? the mind boggles

mermaid tails: someone else made a more detailed post on this, but the mako tails suck, especially compared to its predecessor. they look weirdly discoloured, almost unfinished, don’t have the same dexterity, and are too light to the point of flimsiness. what i will say is that the silvery-blue merman tails are cool. still, if it ain't broke and all that

i don’t know how to summarise this point into a snappy sub-heading, but the way that each h2o mermaid has unique powers particular to them that just adds something to the world. not to mention the hand gestures! of course northern mermaids, eastern mermaids, and southern mermaids have different strengths, while individual mermaids may be proficient in different areas. it also makes sense that a large pod of mermaids would share the same powers, rather than having individual powers specific to them. still i think the elemental associations in the original series helped to round the characters out better, and it’s something i missed on mako mermaids

i don’t know where to include this bit, but the different aesthetics of the show lend themselves to two entirely different experiences. the visual aesthetic of mako mermaids is sharp and vibrant and colourful, with a higher production value. however as a zillennial there’s something comforting about the crappy production value of the og series and the muted tones used in the colouring

feel free to add!