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#this is for a fic I’ll eventually finish
zomboivex · 3 days
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A romantic date with Alan
Please and thankiess
One romantic date with Alan coming up (very much late but shhhhh)
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Alan x Reader Short Fic
Not proof-read (sorry I don’t get paid for this so you get what you get lol)
2k word count
Light Fluff
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Alan had never been the romantic sort. In fact, dating wasn’t something that he had really even considered being on the table for him. Much too preoccupied with fixing up anomalous cars and his duties as Captain. But here he was, fumbling with his phone in his large hands, unsure of what words he could really say to confess what was on his mind.
Words were hard, after all.
‘I need to talk to you’
No.
‘I want to twll you something’
Deleted.
‘Come talk to ne’
He couldn’t send that.
Eventually, he settled with, ‘Meet me at fhe garag2’.
The message sent and there was no going back now. It came through with ease to you, unable but to stare a bit confused at the message.
It was unlike Alan to request your presence unless it was something important. So you replied with a simple, ‘Is everything okay?’ in hopes to get a little more information.
‘Yes’
Okay….
‘I willl see you art 3.’
Well…. You didn’t really get any further answers as to what it was Alan wanted. So, with a light sigh, you focused on your remaining classes for the day. Not that you had many left. Only two and both were in subjects you performed rather well in.
The classes, as you had predicted, slipped by quickly. Rushing out the door and to the Vagastrom territory. Even though Alan had said everything was okay, you still couldn’t help but to feel a bit uneasy. A lump settling deep within your stomach as the lot with cars came into view.
Your steps hastened and soon you found yourself in the garage you had grown familiar with. The various whirls and scrapes of tools one you had grown used to hearing. Oil, gas, and other fumes thick in the air. Groups of rowdy students either talking loudly to one another or eying you as if you were prey. Shrinking in on yourself, you stepped further inside and nervously would look around for the Vagastrom Captain.
“What’re ya doin’ here?” One of the particularly larger students asked, practically looming over you. If you were ice, you would have melted right there on the spot. “Lost?”
“N-no-“ the words sputtered from your lips, shrinking in further as another of the students approached with a booming laugh. You felt as if you had walked into a den of lions ready to read you apart. No matter how often you came to the garage, it was still a frightening experience without any familiar faces.
“Bet they’re lookin’ for Cap!” The student who greeted you first spoke up.
“Ohhhh right- right!” The laughing guy added on with a knowing grin as the two exchanged a look. “I’ll go get ‘em.” And with that, he turned to walk inside, leaving you with the menacingly tall student from before.
“Cap’s been talkin’ ‘bout you nonstop.” He finally spoke up. Your cheeks a bit rosy before confusion took over.
“What…?” You asked, meekness seeping in.
“Oh. Yeah. Said he wanted to tell you-“ before he could finish, a large hand came down on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “Aahaaaa- Cap, I was just tellin’ your friend that you were talkin’ ‘bout ‘em.”
Steely eyes would look you once over- expression stoic. Voice matching, “Let’s go.” His hand removed from his fellow student before going to walk off, hands returning to his sides.
You would glance at the student once more before going to follow Alan, who was walking out to the car lot you had just come from. Each step Alan took you’d have to match with two of your own- the ghoul making note of and slowing his own pace down. Your confusion washing over you as you weren’t sure where exactly the large ghoul was going.
“Alan-“ you spoke up, almost breathless.
No response, but Alan would slow his pace down further. A more reasonable one that you could match.
“Where are we going?”
No response, still. You found yourself growing flustered with the lack of answers, your foot stomping into the ground briefly and the words boomed from your chest before you could really even stop them, “Alan! Tell me where we’re going!”
Stopping completely in his tracks, Alan would turn to face you. Expression unreadable until he gave an apologetic gaze.
“Sorry.” A long pause. “I wanted to show you my favorite spot on campus.”
You found yourself blinking in surprise at this. And then an embarrassed chuckle escaped.
“You should have just started with that-“ the words pressing out through awkward and nervous laughing.
Alan was quiet, again. Steely eyes watching you briefly as if to contemplate what to say next. You could tell he was putting careful consideration into his words, eyes dropping down to the ground in thought before raising up to meet your own, again.
“Sorry.” Another simplistic response. “I wanted to surprise you.”
At this, you couldn’t help but to soften your gaze, a smile tugging at your lips and chest warming from within. There was just something endearing about the way Alan spoke. Simple and to the point. Even if he glossed over the details. It was direct yet soft at the same time.
“It’ll still be a surprise when we get there.” You responded with your own gentle voice, wanting to remove any discouragement that may have followed the Vagastrom Captain. It seemed to work as his normally neutral face formed a small smile followed by a nod of understanding.
Alan began walking, again. This time, starting slow so you could keep up. The walk to the destination silent. A comfortable one that the two of you shared in. Winding through a path that went out just past the Jabberwock grounds and then a little further out until you reached the edge of the island.
The sandy surface a surprise as you’d briefly glance over to the ghoul. He would walk along the shore before speaking up, “Usually, I prefer the woods.”
This information a surprise to you. Alan rarely spoke of his own interests. He was a quiet man who simply acted rather than explain. A charm about that. But- here he was now- telling you about his own preferences.
“So what do you like about this place?” Your words quiet- as if trying to maintain the gentleness of the conversation.
“The waves.”
You must have given Alan an odd look because he soon launched into an explanation.
“No one comes here so you can listen to them.”
Ah… so he found it peaceful out here. Briefly, you wondered if Alan was the type of person who enjoyed fishing. But that thought was brushed off as he would meander off a little ways. Following behind until he stopped at a log. A hand gently patting the spot beside him. You’d join him, getting situated as silence settle between you both.
Remaining like this, the two of you would enjoy the simplicity of one another’s company. No words really needed to be spoken, the sea waves being all the noise either of you needed.
For the first time, since coming to Darkwick, you found some inner peace. Quiet. Complacency.
“I like you.” The words sudden, tearing you from your trance of the ocean. Your head turning slowly to look at Alan.
“What…?” Had you heard him correctly?
“I like you.” Repeated. Voice raised only subtly. Your eyes carefully examining that neutral expression. Was…. this a joke….?
No.
Alan wasn’t the type to tease you like that.
Your heart was on its way to thump out of your chest. Cheeks burning as you opened your mouth to speak only letting out a soft gasp in surprise.
“I- like you too.” You managed to stammer out.
Alan’s face softened at this. Hesitating as he seemed unsure of what to say. So he simply returned to silence.
“Alan-“ his name soft from your lips, “you make me feel safe.” A brevity of silence. “You’re patient and kind. Gentle. You put others before yourself. And you’re safe. I never feel like I’m in danger when I’m with you.”
“You should-“
“But I don’t.”
More silence. Alan’s body rigid as his gaze returned to the gentle waves lapping upon the shore.
You decide to inch closer. Legs brushing against one another as you look up at the tall ghoul. He didn’t pull away. And so you took that as a sign, your arms reaching up and around his shoulders- neck- lightly pulling him down so your foreheads could press against one another.
“I like you, Alan.” Reiterated with more confidence than before. “You should like you, too.”
The quiet made you unsure if you had said something wrong. Then strong arms would wrap around you, tugging you in close and pulling you into his chest. A hand running along your back gently before you relaxed into the touch and closed your eyes. The embrace warm as the sea spray cooled you both down from a sudden large crash. Pulling back from the chill it sent up your spine, you began to laugh.
It was now Alan’s turn to look confused. Brows furrowed deeply with observation. No questions came, though. Instead, a large hand moving to push some strands of damp hair from your face- thumb brushing lightly along your brow bone. Your eyes meeting his and your hand reaching up to bring his large one down to caress your cheek.
Fingers brushed gently against your skin as you both would stare into each other’s eyes. The Vagastrom Captain dipping down briefly and your heart skipped a beat. His voice a low rumble, “Can I kiss you?”
A nervous swallow. A quiet, “Yes.” And then you felt his lips upon your own.
Maybe you had been holding your breath the entire time because when he parted, you would shakily exhale.
“Are you okay?” The question serious.
“Yes-“ a pause “kiss me again.”
And another soft press of the lips as your arms wrapped around his large frame. His own hands pulling you in closer to his chest. This one lasting longer, lashes batting up at Alan- his gaze soft. Making you feel as if you’d melt on the spot.
The breeze would pick up, a small chill running along and causing goosebumps to form along your skin. Clouds gathering above and threatening to burst. Eyes drifted towards the sky. This island always did have temperamental weather.
“We should go back.” Alan spoke, verbalizing what the two of you had been thinking.
You give a light nod and stand. A brief moment of hesitation before you decided to take Alan’s hand in your own, working your fingers together. As you did, rain began to sprinkle down. Slow, at first, before building up into a downpour. The two of you rushing to find shelter from the sudden storm.
Looking at Alan, you couldn’t help but to laugh again. His own hair stuck against his skin, reminding you of a wet cat. Your free hand reaching up to push his bangs from his eyes, admiring him for a brief moment. He’d only pull back to remove his jacket, the leather drenched as he’d turn from you to shake it out- an attempt to keep any more water from hitting you. Then, Alan would turn back around, going to place the jacket over your shoulders.
“I don’t have an umbrella.” The words apologetic. And you smiled up at him.
“That’s okay.”
With the jacket snug on your shoulders, you would huddle closer to the Vagastrom Captain, soaking in his warmth briefly. The rain didn’t look like it would let up any time soon, the ground soaked. A deep breath.
“Want to run through it?” You asked, glancing up at the ghoul.
He would blink in response- a bit perplexed by the suggestion made.
“I don’t think it’ll stop raining in the near future.” You reiterated lightly.
Alan thought it over for a moment. An idea striking him.
“I’ll carry you.”
Your head tilted slightly.
“Hold the jacket over us and I will carry you back. We might stay dry, then.”
“O-okay.” The word stammered out slightly and, without hesitation, Alan would scoop you up and place you on his back. You would lift the jacket to cover your heads- a bit of your back exposed to the chilly air. Strong hands holding your thighs in place as the trek back to Vagastrom would begin.
The world wet and damp as the garage came into view, Alan would only set you down once the both of you had made it inside. The concrete at your feet now wet with footprints. Another shiver ran up along your spine, Alan noticing this.
“Stay here.” Short and to the point as he would go to turn and walk inside. Alan would return shortly after, a fuzzy and warmed towel in hand. He’d wrap it around you, burritoing you and making sure you would be dry and cozy.
When the weather finally let up and you no longer were soaked to the bone, you’d wave your goodbyes to Alan. A renewed sense of comfort in your companionship with the ghoul- heading back to your own residence.
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flayyr · 1 year
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divorcespark fic + oc shit. i don’t think tf oc stuff is looked at by anyone but i tacked it on anyway lol
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fallen-flier · 6 months
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the moon will sing (time traveling tim)
so. i saw this super awesome post by @puppetwoman17 about time traveling tim drake and got obsessed, so here's a small ficlet i wrote about it!
part 2
The thing is, Tim expects it. He’s faintly aware of the blood seeping from his stomach, staining his hands red— hands which are uselessly putting pressure on his wound. If he survives this, he doesn’t even want to think of all the weeks of pure agony and fever, brought on by the wonderful lack of his spleen and the fact that healing from wounds sucked, period.
Death isn’t surprising— he really didn’t think he would live past, what, twenty-five? Thirty? To live until beyond 50 with his lifestyle was, well. It sounded painful, anyways. And you would need to be a deeply paranoid neurotic. Like Bruce. Because as much as he respected his father and looked up to him, if Tim turned out anything like Batman, he’d probably find a bullet through his brain sooner or later.
Half because Tim was reckless and his plans were so convoluted and insane that nobody really knew what was going on either, just to confuse his opponent. The other half was, well. You can guess.
So. He’s bleeding out, the night is uncomfortably cold and the wind bites into his skin, sand grating against his back, and all Tim can think about is how much he hopes Ra’s al-Ghul doesn’t show up like a damned wraith and drag him kicking and screaming to the nearest surgery table and take out his kidneys or something. 
Tim’s also thinking about his family. And the probable inconveniences that come with his death. Like arranging his funeral and all his assets and his Nest and the fact that Tim is a very integral part of the family and Dick will probably fall apart and Bruce will mourn and brood, and, and damn it. Tim should probably revoke his thinking process or something.
Tim is twenty three years old when he bleeds to death alone, and nobody finds his body until three weeks later when his family has scoured the Earth and his distress signal rings, rings, but nobody sees it. His predictions about his family come true.
But that isn’t quite relevant, because Tim isn’t aware of such a thing. 
Instead, Tim closes his eyes and falls and jerks up on his bed, clutching his chest as years of memories flood his brain, too much for a mere eleven year old. It feels like his head has been cracked open and molten lava had been poured through, scorching his veins and circulation. It feels like agony of the highest level and Tim is faintly aware of the darkness creeping in, his mind too overwhelmed and overstimulated from years of memories flooding into his brain.
And so for the second time in a few minutes and a lifetime, Tim welcomes unconsciousness with open arms.
The next few hours are spent in pure agony, his body being too weak to move and his limbs too short for him to coordinate. He’s pretty sure that there’s a pool of dried blood underneath him from a nosebleed, but he’s too tired to turn around, so he just uncomfortably shifts away from it. Not for the first time, he thanks his lucky stars that his parents are neglectful, because he doesn’t even know how he would explain all of this. 
Two days later, he musters the strength to stumble out of bed, gulp down the bitter, carbon dioxide-filled water next to him and get to the kitchen. It’s April 1st, twelve years ago, Tim is eleven years old, and his family doesn’t know him yet.
Half of the terrible things that have happened to Dick haven’t happened yet. Jason hasn’t died yet. Duke is still a kid and his parents are healthy. Babs hasn’t been put into a wheelchair by the Joker.
Steph is still living with her father. Damian and Cass are being trained as assassins.
Mrs. Mac is due to come in a few hours. Tim looks at the blood-crusted covers of his bed and his crumpled clothes. 
Oh, shoot. 
So instead of researching or training, Tim spends the next hour trying to get the bedsheets off with his tiny, noodle arms, half stumbling on his feet because he’s way too damn short, and making his way to the bathroom so he can take a shower and get some of the blood off so it doesn’t stain too badly. 
It’s probably a lost cause. Not that his parents will notice or care about a missing bedsheet, but it feels wasteful to just throw it away to hide evidence of his unintentional time travel.
Two and a half hours later, Tim stumbles out of the laundry room, his bedsheets and pillow finally in the washer. He collapses on the nearest chair and scans the room for his father’s computer. 
He lets out a shaky breath. His family is generally unscarred. Jason is Robin again. Jason. The boy who Tim had held with a certain degree of, well, disdain. Thinking about it kind of makes him want to punch is past self in the face, or cringe in the way that you can only do when you think of something embarrassing you used to do. Like victim-blaming your older brother for getting beat to death while trying to find his mother. 
It wasn’t the only way he looked at Jason, but he had always thought of him as too reckless. Maybe he really did deserve the beating. Well, not that he believed that young teenagers should be beat up by young adults in Robin cosplay, but at least Tim wasn’t exactly traumatized by the experience. Better him than some other poor civilian kid Bruce could’ve adopted.
And Tim did get his revenge. By getting Jason on his private parts. But whatever. Revenge was revenge, and Tim was better than the whole crime lord setup his older brother had. In practice, anyways. 
Chewing on the ballpoint pen, he writes down the first thing on his list (in code, of course) since coming back in time.
prevent jason’s death 
Well. Now that he had a comprehensive list, Tim was down and ready to plan. 
A hour later, Mrs. Mac appears, none the wiser to what happened to him. Tim greets her as she walks in, and she smiles and greets him back, putting lunch in the fridge. She notices nothing wrong about how he stays sitting on the chair in the living room, and Tim says nothing about it. When she leaves, he pulls the piece of paper out of his book and the pen from his hair, scratching down some extra points.
Hmm. Maybe the Court of Owls should go early. Or perhaps that would create too much change?
Dick would have a better time in the future if they were gone, though. Tim frowns, dragging his pen back and forth in a short line on the table. 
He still needed to factor in the fact that he was an unknown to the family. The thing is, Tim loves their dysfunctional, broken family and he knows Bruce and Dick loved him back. But to be honest, it would be easier to change events if he wasn’t being scrutinized by Bruce every day. And it wasn’t like Tim had any shortage of money, with his parents still alive and his family fortune enough to cover whole lifetimes, so he wasn’t worried about his own safety.
It would be nice to go to college too. Maybe Stanford. He was smart enough to make it, and the location was close to the vigiliante community that if he so wanted to, he could probably join and watch his family from the outskirts. Last time around, Tim just couldn’t leave Gotham. Being a vigiliante was his life— he couldn’t even justify it as a temporary thing anymore. Their family had gone through so much tragedy and Gotham was still filled with crime and Tim had an obligation to keep her safe. It just… he couldn’t escape his mantle because he loved it, and Tim had a difficult time letting things go once he loved them. 
But if Tim could change things from the start, he didn’t need to be pulled back into the life. (He couldn’t have it, even if he loved it, because it was never his in the first place.) He could start anew, be a vigiliante when he was in college and far away from the family he hopefully would’ve fixed by then.
Well then. First things first, he needed to remove a factor from Jason’s death so he wouldn’t die in the first place.
Mrs. Mac comes by and cooks him lunch, and they eat in silence. Typically, Tim would fill the silence with chattering, glad to have someone to talk to in the empty manor.  But Tim’s mind is whirring, drawing up and discarding plans. By the time Mrs. Mac stands up and tells him she’s going to leave now, Tim has thought of three contingencies and twelve more future events he needs to address.
He mhms when Mrs. Mac prompts him to, and eventually she leaves out the front door, leaving him alone with his thoughts. It’s spring break and Tim doesn’t actually have anything to do because he’s in middle school now, so he mulls over the Jason problem for a few more hours.
It comes to him when he’s microwaving the leftovers from lunch, and Tim is pretty sure he’s a genius, or something. Sheila Haywood worked at a refugee camp in Ethiopia handling medical supplies, but she was embezzling funds from the organization she was working for. It wouldn’t be difficult for Tim to trace it and report her. By the time Jason began tracking her down, she would most likely be in prison, just for a few years and everything would hopefully blow over and the Joker wouldn’t blackmail her because she had no use to him in prison. 
It was cold, perhaps. But her life wouldn’t be over with a few years in prison, and Jason would be alive. Nothing more than they deserved.
Jason, alive. Then Damian, Cass, and Steph. He would see to his family, whole and happy. Then perhaps, in the future, when he was older and safely out of Bruce’s adoption zone, Tim could perhaps work with them. Laugh about how he never expected the Wayne family to be vigilantes, just to throw them off his trail. 
Tim allows himself this one selfish thought, because he has nothing else but the shattered remains of a future that will never come to be, and a family he left behind but still exists.
a/n:
i wrote this in two hours under an inspired haze of time travel and tim, two of my favorite things
tim is a super unreliable narrator if you haven't already noticed lmao
also if i get any characterization wrong feel free to leave some discourse or ping me on the head
but like please be gentle cause y'know constructive crit, not bashing
thanks for reading! :D
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sare11aa11eras · 19 days
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Conservation of warmth
[Image Description: colored drawing of two people, Jon Snow and Satin of the Night’s Watch, sleeping next to each other in bed. They are shown from about the waist up, from a bird’s eye perspective. Jon is on the left-hand side, Satin on the right. Jon sleeps on his back, his hands on his chest. His hair is in one long braid behind him. Satin sleeps on his side, angled towards Jon. His hair is loose. They are both visibly wearing long-sleeved black shirts, although Jon’s collar is undone. The sheets and pillows are in varying shades of grey to black. The blanket has a few colorful patches on it. Their mouths are slightly open as they sleep. /End ID.]
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try-set-me-on-fire · 1 year
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Tagged by @rewritetheending @eddiebabygirldiaz and @wildlife4life for fuck it Friday, so fuck it I’ll reveal the concept for what the new wip is about… what if a classic near death confession but Buck isn’t the one Eddie gives the confession to…
Eddie’s eyes open, look straight into his, and his next words are remarkably clear. “I love him, Bobby.”
“No,” he shakes his head, a strange and frantic panic bubbling up inside him. “You can’t tell me this- you can’t tell me this-“ a hundred smiles shift slightly to the left in Bobby’s memory. It’s barely a surprise, really, he picked Eddie out for Buck himself, years and years ago. He thought they’d make a fine pair. “You have to- we’re getting out of here and you’re telling him yourself, you can’t-“ He remembers holding Buck after the well collapsed. He remembers watching the kid’s heart crack open and having the irrational thought that Bobby had to be ready to catch the pieces when they fell out of him so they wouldn't get muddy. “Don’t make me do this.”
"Please." Eddie's gaze is getting swimmy. "He has…" God, there's blood in his mouth, it's coating his teeth. "H- he needs to know he’s loved- I didn’t get the chance-“ Eddie’s inhale is a rattle, he makes a sound that’s sort of a laugh and sort of a sob without enough air for either. “I didn’t get the chance. He- he’s everything- he deserves- please, please you have to- to tell him-“
“Eddie,” Bobby says, his own voice cracking. “Don’t-“
Eddie’s hand squeezes, once, where it’s still limply grasped around Bobby’s arm. His eyes search and then focus. “Please.”
He says it like Bobby asked if he wanted toast with his eggs. It’s the ease of it, the lack of desperation, that has Bobby saying “Alright, okay, just- I promise, Eddie, now you just stay with me and we’re going to get out of here.”
@tayf-ghost @jeeyuns @devirnis @shitouttabuck @forthewolves @anxieteandbiscuits if you have anything to share!
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girafficparka · 11 months
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Gorgeous and actually buff Shepard - check
Flight suit Garrus showing a little sumthin’ sumthin’ extra - check
Talons and claws! - check
Best friends with benefits who are too caught up in their own heads to realize it might be love - also check
Milkywayes (go check out their tumblr- shakarian perfection) is an amazing artist and did this comish for my ao3 fanfic Comparative Anatomy. Thank you love!
Welcome into my brain people - I can’t get these two idiots out of it.
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faarkas · 4 months
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SO I GOT CARRIED AWAY.
tagged by @imperial-agent @rhettsabbott @katewalker @lestatlioncunt and @pawnguild to do this picrew, ty so much squad 💖💖💖💖
left to right:
nanami & hiroko (jjk), valenzo (cp77), takemura & verde (cp77) miguel & shoko (jjk), serana & dagandriah (skyrim), wyll & anastasia (bg3) alistair & anna (da), morrigan & gwenyth (da), zevran & ella (da)
tagging: @okkoutsu @pensdragon @leefi @eviefrie @barbecutie
@ugh-my-back @swordcoasts @geniichiro (no pressure tho of course)
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gothsuguru · 1 month
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suguru fucking reader in front of sukuna? 🤔
this was in my drafts and i forgot if this was supposed to be a Drabble or if you just wanted my thoughts so i will be giving my thoughts i hope you don’t mind :3 (i don’t think the person who sent this is even reading this rn but if you are thank you for indulging in my sugukuna antics 🤭)
first of all. RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I LOOOOOOOOOOOVE THE IDEA OF THIS IN AN AU OF “PREMONITION OF LOVE” (i really need to get back to this story and start writing it 😭) thank you for indulging in me i know you saw my sugusukusatoreader snippets
but omfg…….. yes…….. i think it’s in sukuna’s nature to constantly rile up those around him and suguru CERTAINLY is no exception <3 i think sukuna also deeeeeeep down doesn’t know if his feelings for reader (and in turn suguru) are something that’s True or if he’s just horny so he does what he does best . push sugu’s buttons and throw himself all over you
i’m talking feeding you delicious desserts at his pastry shop, wiping off the frosting from your lips and licking it off his fingers, putting his arms around your shoulders etc… all while making FERVENT eye contact w suguru. it’s funny bc suguru & sukuna both know you’re just taking it as sukie being friendly but sugu is soooooooo perceptive and he sees through sukuna’s charade…….
at the end of the day sukuna is a brat (a spoiled disrespectful one at that and suguru believes that sukuna needs to be punished for it for flirting w his girlfriend)
what better way to do that than get up and put his arms around both your and sukuna’s waists? sukie freezes for once in his life and you’re just melting into sugu who looks at you so softly, and then he gazes at sukuna and sukuna sees the fire blazing in suguru’s eyes (is it anger or desire or a bit of both? no one knows…)
under the guise of just hanging out suguru brings both of you back to his apartment and he takes BOTH of your & sukie’s hands and brings y’all to the bedroom………… now you don’t know that freaky shit is abt to go down but you certainly aren’t mad at the Vibes rn like……… being in a room w two bad bitches? a win for reader fr <3
but sugu gets out his kinky handcuffs and twirls them around his finger and smirks at you both…….. you think sugu’s gonna cuff you and sukuna thinks the same and he’s excited, “you’re real fuckin’ kinky geto, you want us to cuff her and fuck her together?”
suguru just gives sukuna his Practiced Smile and just wants to slap the smirk of sukuna’s face.
so he does that.
sukie and you both look at suguru in shock and before sukuna knows it, he’s being pushed down on the loveseat near the bed and being cuffed behind his back. suguru quietly brings one of your panties (hidden ones he keeps in his drawers… sugu you PERV… and stuffs it in sukuna’s mouth.)
suguru lightly applies pressure on sukuna’s dick with his foot, essentially stepping on it while telling him to “be a good boy and pay attention, hmm ryomen?”
and he takes you on the bed while sukuna is breathing heavily and moaning… he so badly wants to get up and join… maybe even be put in his place by suguru… sukuna doesn’t know what he’s feeling he’s never felt this way before so he’s both Hard and Confused and Horny :3
(yeah basically :3 okay wait this is giving me ideas………. lmk if you want a continuation of this NDNDNDNDND)
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medievalthymes · 4 months
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everyday I sit down and write approximately 50 words of my burrich/chivalry fic so y’all may see the next chapter sometime within approximately the next ten years
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owtenen · 1 year
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When a Ranch Becomes a Home (pt 1???)
Tango, despite his best effort, dies. Unfortunately, he has a lot more than just death to deal with after.
read my stuff of AO3!
CW: Depictions of anxiety, minor panic attacks, and tango gets blown up.
————
Tango was just thankful this game happened during the summer.
His body was still cold, and when the wind picked up, he felt the fire on his head fight for its life to stay alive. But all in all, it was better than last time. The cold winter air and stormy rainy nights made it almost impossible for the blaze born to function properly, but this time it was different.
He felt good. He had armor, he had food, he joked with his friends and made some new ones. But behind all of the it, there was a little nagging thing in the back of his mind.
It took Tango a while to realize it was anxiety.
He didn't really get anxiety, which is probably why he didn't realize it at first. He was a man on practicality, a man of smarts. He knew he could talk himself out of any anxiety he found himself clouded in, so he had never really felt the hollowness in his stomach like he did now, or the way his heart jumped when he thought about it.
It was faint though, like it wasn't really there at all. That is, of course, when Tango realized it actually wasn't there. That is was his soulmates. Whoever his soulmate was was really stressing out, and only when Tango realized it did it start to actually effect him. Like when he was talking to Bdubs and Impulse, he had to stop for a moment to breath, his soulmate had fallen off something and it hurt his ankles, but the pain in his stomach from the anxiety his soulmate felt was somehow worse. He needed to find them, whoever they were.
It got worse as he was going deeper in the cave, it started creeping into his own thoughts as well. Maybe his soulmate had a reason for being this anxious, maybe they were in trouble. Maybe he was in trouble.
An arrow shot right through his arm, and it took a minute for Tango to register the pain. He turned around quick, but there were too many monsters coming after him to process what was happening. He swung his sword with one hand, making sure to step back with each swing. He was getting through them one by one, if he just brought them to a choke point-
That's when the creeper dropped, and thats when everything went black.
~
"Common..." Jimmy found that muttering under his breath as he scaled the mountain to actually be quite helpful. His arms and legs hurt like hell though, and he was having a difficult time breathing.
He felt a shattering pain rip through his left arm, but he just shook it out and continued to climb, "Don't. Even. Think about it." Finally, he got to the top, and he looked out over the sky as he tried to catch his breath.
He felt another jab in his side, and then he felt a sharp snap in his ankle. He winced and clutched his stomach, the random bursts of pain were not helping his anxiety.
He would not be a burden to his soulmate. He would not damn them the way he had already damned himself.
He felt a few more jabs in various places around his body, and as he was thinking what on earth his soulmate was doing, he felt a searing pain ripple up his back, and he fell to the ground to die.
He wakes up sweating, he didn't think he was sweating before, but he certainly was now. Sitting up from the grass, he pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes, his breath coming in short, uneven huffs that made him feel like he wanted to throw up. The place on his back that hurt the most was pulsing, and he felt paralyzed.
Suddenly, he heard a tree branch crack, and a voice coming from above. Was it God? Was it Them? No. Jimmy shook his head to clear the fog that clouded his brain, looking up to see what was happening.
He saw a man in the trees. Well, calling him a man was maybe a stretch. He had seen him around. Tango if he remembered correctly. He was the blaze born that hung out with Impulse and Etho. Redstoner maybe? Wasn't this the guy with cows in the first game? Jimmy's head started throbbing along with his back, he tried to ignore it.
"Oh no...." He heard the man mutter under his breath. The flames in his hair were big and wild, and yet they didn't set the tree on fire when they jumped up to meet the bark.
"What happened, Tango?" His voice was tough, and he fliched at his tone. When he looked up, he noticed that Tango did too.
"I'm- I'm so sorry." Tango leaned over and put his head between his knees, his legs dangling off the branch. "I'm so sorry."
Jimmy took a deep breath, and then another, "What happened?" His voice was softer then, and he was satified.
Tango sniffed, and ran a hand through his flaming hair, "I was caving, and there were about 500 mobs coming at me from one side and while I was worrying about them-" He looked up, and the two soulmates made eye contact for the first time. Jimmy smiled, maybe it would ease Tango's mind. It must have, because the man in the tree paused to give Jimmy a small smile of his own, "You know, the old creeper-from-behind trick."
Jimmy nodded, looking around spawn where just a few hours ago, was filled with everyone. He realized with a jolt that he was yellow, the first yellow. He quickly took out his communicator and read the chat, every joke and taunt making the hole in his stomach grow bigger and bigger.
~
Jimmy's anxiety was just getting worse. Tango watched in silence as he watched his soulmate read the comms messages about their death. He wasn't completely oblivious, he knew the jokes that were said about him.
Cursed. Stupid. Careless. Jimmy's friends would always say they were taunting him in good fun, but Tango never felt comfortable enough to go along with it.
"Jimmy, right?" Tango hopped down a couple branches before landing on the ground, his back was still stinging, and he didn't need broken ankles on top of that.
He watched Jimmy come out of a trance in real time, his eyes going from little glossy things to wide alert oceans. “What?”
Tango shook his head and held out his hand, “I’m Tango….” after a pause, he awkwardly added, “of the Tek variety.”
Jimmy, despite it all, chuckled softly. “I’m Jimmy.” He thought for a moment, and Tango could see the gears turning behind his eyes, “of the…. Solidarity variety?” He shook his head in disapproval. “Doesn’t have the same ring to it.”
“Good enough for me.”
Jimmy smiled, and Tango felt the anxiety lift just a bit. Until it came crashing down again, and Jimmy ripped his hand away from Tango to run it over his hair. “I have no idea where I was.” He looked back at Tango, and his wide eyes were filled with worry, “All my stuff is gone.”
Tango sighed, “Yeah. I have no idea where my stuff is either.” He thought for a moment, watching Jimmy as he began to pace around the top of the hill. He wanted to shake him, tell him to breathe and calm down.
Instead, he started picking up sticks, “Let’s make a chest here, then we can go find out stuff and meet back up.”
Jimmy turned and watched Tango, his arms were crossed and one of his hands was up near his face, and Tango raised an eyebrow while he watched Jimmy bite on his fingernail.
Tango sighed, “I’m really sorry for killing us. It’s one thing for me to explodificate myself but I didn’t want to take you down with me.”
Tango saw Jimmy smile behind his hand, and the tightening of his chest had nothing to do with the anxiety, “Explodificate?”
Tango smiled and threw some materials at Jimmy. He didn’t catch it. “Common, let’s go hide our bits in a tree.”
This time Jimmy’s head tilted back in laughter, and Tango wanted to bottle up the sound.
The anxiety didn’t come back as strong after that, and Tango was happy for it to stay that way.
————
i should be working on Problem of Etho and my other 24lsmp fics and yet here i am writing about a dead ship from a 10 month old smp …. oops?
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coincasual · 1 year
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i’ve been writing a lot lately! here are some fics i’ve been playing with
Tale Of Olde, which is really big and long but involves a lot of ever afterlings in medieval and renaissance times
Phantom, 1900s, basically a retelling/twisted tale about Tash/Ari and Operetta
Writing Desk, a modern(ish) fic mainly about Raven, Apple, Sparrow, and Melody, they’re all aspiring musicians
Tomb of Isolation/Electric Love, modern, Cleo and Frankie are the mains, it’s got trauma but then also hand holding
Dance of the Birds/Melomania, 1800s, Duchess, Sparrow, Justine, Melody are the mains, ballet, orchestra, love, betrayal…
A Rose in the Garden, modern(ish), takes place in Lizzie’s garden/Wonderland Grove, Lizzie, Maddie, Kitty, Daring, Darling, Briar, Blondie are all involved. danger and monster fighting!
i’ll eventually finish costuming for them all!
still finishing a few but some are done!
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skyward-floored · 7 months
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Grunt?
Technically grunted, but close enough :)
“Cryonis,” Artemis greeted back, then grunted, her form flickering. “I can use my powers on you too, but we have to hurry,” she said in a strained voice. “I can’t do it long.”
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alastyr-not-alastair · 8 months
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Ya ever read your own writing and go “damn. This shit goes HARD?!”
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dvrcos · 7 months
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is it possible?? Another Kevaaron shipper???
Oh yes yes yes I am huge on kevaaron!! Those are my boys I love them so much and I think their dynamic is so fun and interesting
(even if it doesn’t totally make sense in canon it’s okay because I’m delusional and I can make it make sense)
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starbuck · 8 months
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“bro, SHOULD we?”
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edmundpevensiesqueen · 2 months
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there’s only a very small amount of people this fic would appeal to so idk when i will write it mostly bc it’d take a lot of research work and energy and part of me doesn’t know if i wanna do all that just for like 5 people to read it, but basically i have Shadow and Bone the Netflix Show But If It Wasn’t Ass™️ thumping around in my brain like clothes in the dryer. i would format it as a script - which again will make less people find it appealing (probably) - and just very slowly introduce the crows. like people who hadn’t read the books would just think “oh neat some world building of the other countries in the world” and then bam backstory of six of crows starts to happen and all these “background characters” suddenly start to matter to the plot and meet and then before you know it alina and mal are living happily together and three out of six crows are in the dregs and it’s just beautiful and done right and inej doesn’t randomly have a brother and her trauma isn’t ignored and we like deep dive into the druskelle and how their teachings effect not only matthias but some of his friends and introduce hanne early to show Fjerdan ideology effecting women too and i just have so many thoughts and ways it could’ve been great but i won’t put them all here but oh my god it could’ve been so beautiful and they ruined it by rushing it all and i’m just so mad abt it still
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