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@egirljunomacguff
Oh hi!
My masterlist is still a work in progress :(
In the meantime find me on AO3!
I post all my x readers here on tumblr and my char x char on AO3!
Asks are always open for ideas for either space :P
I am currently writing for Genshin, TADC, Hazbin, TDP, Hunger Games, and could be persuaded into a Stardew fic or two
I will NOT write anything dark romance/yandere, heavy smut (open to like heavy petting lol), major character death, or anything with minors.
Just moved to a new city, going to see TADC in theaters. It’s a 50/50 on if I make a new friend or if I get lonelier somehow.
Hi friends ik I have two pending requests that’s on me, working on it lol. I just moved houses this week (finally fucking free from my parents holy shit) so once I get settled I’m gonna start cranking shit out on here (week from today prob) so literally spam requests if you have any ideas and I’ve got all the time in the world soon :P
When Obsession comes to digital and I can rewatch it I’m going to write an essay on stalking, my experience with it, mental illness, how Obsession breaks those down, and where the line crosses from an innocent crush to male manipulation.
If I wrote an essay about how my life is like if the origin story of bobs burgers didn’t work would anybody read it?
Autistic mf who’s sorta face-blind needing art help.
What is off about their faces why doesn’t it look like them lol
scribbling bloodymary in my sketchbook and Simon lowkey just keeps turning out like Noah Kahan fuck
My guiltiest fanfiction pleasure?
Awkward sex. Vanilla, awkward, almost cringe-worthy, so bad it’s good, silly, laughing during it, sex.
Officially a college graduate which means I’m educated enough to write decent fanfiction. Drop asks bbg.
I write for anything in the tags or anything adjacent if you ask nicely
My comfort fic being a random sonadow (never been into sonic in any capacity btw) hurt comfort thunderstorm oneshot is so… yeah 🙃
Simon is the clingiest mf of all time with Grace. I know that man is just constantly holding, touching, grabbing, leaning, STARING, etc etc. He wants that scientist BADDDD. Grace indulges obviously he’s just so glad to see someone and to know Simon’s okay and alive. They both definitely have a habit of grabbing at pulse points just to check. Just in case. Waking up is the worst though, because if the other is gone it’s a mini panic for a moment until they see or even just hear the other. The most tactile relationship literally ever. Real panic attacks are where it gets harder. Trying to balance the need for grounding with the overwhelming crushing feelings of doom gets a bit hard. But Simon and Grace manage. For Simon that looks like Grace holding his face and just whispering nice things. Making sure Simon doesn’t look away and drift into thinking it’s coming from phantom speakers again. Making sure he knows it’s Grace speaking, not the voices. For Grace though, Simon does struggle to ease his mind because he has never known a single kindness until Grace. He just stays. They sit, they talk, Grace gets to use Simon as a sounding board for all the false logics he’s worked himself into until things feel real again. Or he has to go get Rocky, who’s gotten more used to human emotion than the other human in the room. They do their best though. Together. Always.
AU where ryland is a leg amputee (transtibial; below the knee) and when he rescues simon, and sees he’s missing his arm, he almost feels like he’s reliving his own accident. but he puts his feelings aside and saves the man.
simon recovers slowly, at first he doesn’t fully realize his arm is gone. he knows, he remembers it being teared off, but his brain can’t quite make the connection, not yet. and ryland has to watch him suffer the same way he did. has to watch him cry over pain in a limb that isn’t there anymore. has to watch him grunt and swear in frustration as he tries to do things and realizes that his autonomy is gone. yeah, ryland knows that feeling.
one day, he sees simon trying desperately to tie his hair, and failing. ryland slowly approaches. simon isn’t good at accepting help, he says it’s humiliating. i’m a grown man. so ryland’s voice is soft when he asks "can i help you?"
simon nods. ryland grabs the hair tie and push simon’s hair back in a ponytail, making sure he doesn’t hurt him. when he’s done, simon mutters a "thank you" and ryland sits next to him.
a beat goes by before he rolls up his pants, extending his right leg so it’s in simon’s line of sight. ryland watches attentively as simon’s gaze goes to his prosthetic leg and his eyes slowly widen. his mouth opens, but no sounds come out. ryland says nothing; not yet. he bents down and unhooks his prosthetic, exposing his stump. simon’s gaze finally goes up to his face, his eyebrows knitted in both shock and confusion, and ryland smiles.
"look, we match."
Beautiful sunny days are a rarity on Dragonspine.
A pale light washed over the thick blankets of snow, reflecting through the windows of Albedo’s laboratory in cold, shimmering streaks. Inside the quiet room, there was only the rhythmic scratch of a pen and the faint, sharp scent of chemical reagents.
He sat at his workbench, his ash-blonde hair falling softly over his shoulders, teal eyes fixed intently on the chemical reaction swirling within a test tube.
Meanwhile, you were sprawled across the sofa behind him, rolling back and forth out of sheer boredom.
“Albedo.”
“Mm?”
“Are you even listening to me?”
“I am,” he replied instantly. “Your heart rate spikes slightly every time you begin to complain of boredom.”
You bolted upright, glaring at him.
“Stop analyzing me like one of your experiments!”
Albedo tilted his head slightly, his gaze radiating pure innocence.
“But that is how I understand the world.”
“…And what about me?”
“You belong to the world as well.”
The answer was so natural that it left you speechless for a few seconds.
That was Albedo for you. He could say things that made your face flush with a completely composed expression.
You rested your chin on your hand, watching him for a long while. Albedo was always like this—intelligent, rational, always viewing everything through a scientific lens. Even when the two of you first started seeing each other, he once said:
“Human emotion is a very fascinating biological reaction.”
You had stayed mad at him for three days because of that sentence.
But eventually, you realized that for Albedo, that was his way of being gentle.
A sudden thought struck you.
“Albedo.”
“Hm?”
“If I turned into a worm, would you still love me?”
The pen in his hand came to a halt.
For the first time today, Albedo was silent.
You grinned triumphantly, propping yourself up.
“Can’t answer that, can you?”
“Your question contains too many variables.”
“Like what?”
“How did you turn into a worm? Is it only a physical change, or does your consciousness change as well? Do you retain your memories? Are you capable of communication? What is the lifespan of this particular species? If—”
“Stop, stop, stop!” You burst out laughing. “Why are you being so serious?”
Albedo looked at you for a few seconds, then slowly set his pen down.
“Because you are the one asking me.”
“…And?”
“And I want to provide an accurate answer.”
You paused.
He stood up from his desk and walked over to you. His pale teal eyes reflected the light from the window, as still as a frozen lake.
“If you turned into a worm but remained you…” he said softly, “then I believe I would still love you.”
You blinked.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Albedo tilted his head, pondering.
“I do not believe that affection is built solely upon outward form.” He lightly touched your forehead. “Humans perceive an individual through memories, habits, words, and reactions… not just the body.”
“So even if I were a worm—”
“I would craft a small, warm box for you.”
“…Huh?”
“Perhaps add a few soft leaves,” he continued with total sincerity. “And research ways to extend a worm's lifespan.”
You stared at him for a few seconds before laughing until your stomach hurt.
“Albedo, you are so adorable.”
“Adorable?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t think that word suits me.”
“It suits you perfectly.”
He watched you silently as you curled up on the sofa, laughing, a very faint trace of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
Days on Dragonspine were always quiet like this.
You often brought food to the lab for Albedo, but he caught you every single time before you even reached the door.
“Why are you hiding a pastry behind your back?”
“!? How did you know?”
“Your gait becomes more cautious when you are carrying something hot.”
“…Are you a monster?”
“No,” Albedo replied calmly. “I simply understand you.”
There was one time you dragged him down to Mondstadt for a festival.
In the middle of the crowded plaza, you excitedly ran to an accessory stall and bought Albedo a flower-shaped hairclip.
“For you!”
“I have no need for accessories.”
“But it looks good!”
“It does not.”
Five minutes later, he was still wearing it.
You laughed as you pulled him through the crowds, and Albedo let you lead him around as if it wasn't a bother at all.
“Doesn’t it annoy you?” you asked.
“No.”
“Even though I’m dragging you all over the place?”
“You are happy.”
The answer was so simple it made your heart skip a beat.
Albedo wasn't the type to whisper sweet nothings frequently.
But he always remembered your favorite foods; he always walked on the street side of the path; he always handed you his coat before you even had the chance to say you were cold.
Albedo’s love was like the snow.
Silent.
Gentle.
But by the time you noticed it, it had already covered everything around you.
One night, you were slumped over the table while Albedo was still deep in his research.
Half-asleep, you murmured:
“What if I disappeared one day?”
The tip of his pen faltered.
You didn't see the look in Albedo’s eyes at that moment.
Silence stretched on for a long time.
Then, you felt his coat being gently draped over your shoulders.
“I would find you,” his voice was very soft. “No matter how long it took.”
You peeked at him through half-closed eyes.
“Even if I turned into a worm?”
“Yes.”
“What if I turned into a slime?”
“I would study slimes.”
“A bird?”
“I would learn the calls to make a bird return.”
You let out a sleepy laugh.
“You’re such a dork.”
Albedo looked at you and replied calmly:
“Perhaps I am.”
Then he leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, as light as falling snow.
“But that is an exception reserved only for you.”
PART 4: HURT/COMFORT WITH: FREMINET, LYNEY, WANDERER, ORORON, AND RAZOR
PART 1 PART 2 PART 3
GN! Reader - weeeeee bit angsty (again again again) sorry not sorry, see pt 1 for the original prompt/ask. This is the major dork alert, beware proceeding, this veered into me being silly territory. Lyney brushes and ties back ur hair, tried to keep it vague to be inclusive, my apologies if not though. Ororon also calls reader pretty. edited to fix format smh
When Lohen's finished with all of his excruciatingly long Vice Captain duties, the first thing he plans to do is remove all the heavy clothing off himself and collapse face first on his bed.
But whaddya know? You were there too, already sleeping on his pillows like you owned it. He assumes you've been waiting for him but fell asleep before he could make it home.
Lohen blinks tiredly and takes a moment to just stare at your body in his bed. His brain almost short circuiting when he sees your bare legs barely covered. His blanket is right there!
Yeah, he'll talk to you about that later.
He begins to strip off his coat and armor and belt and whatever that was in the way which eventually left him clad only in a thin night shirt and boxers.
He says nothing when approaching you and silently adjusts himself behind you so he could wrap an arm around your waist and press his face into the warm skin of your nape.
You always smell so good in his sheets, all pliant and pretty. He wishes moments like this could last at least half the time he had on the daily.
His scent practically engulfs you, exuding faintly of patchouli and mint along with the summer heat that clung to his skin all day.. this manages to pull you further into the soft embrace of slumber.
He relishes in the simple comfort you gave him during the long nights he was particularly exhausted in. The steady breathing of your chest which he tries to match with, his legs interlocking themselves under yours automatically and his front pressed flush against your back to protect you from whatever lurks in the darkness of this room.
Soft and safe, that is what he likes to feel when he's done with Captain duties. This was much better than hugging a pillow.
Lohen curls closer— as close as his body will allow it, all lean muscle and limbs around yours like vines wrapped around a strong pillar. To him, you were something similar to that.
Someone who didn't see him as manic or impulsive. But as someone capable of being thoroughly loved and understood.
Maybe it's just wishful thinking, but to Lohen? You're definitely somebody worth fighting for.
Art school is my own personal hell. I’m not even in art school. I’m just an art minor at a state college. I have still never felt such rage over any course until today’s crit. I’m never listening to a man’s advice ever again.
I want a scene in season 5 to go something like this:
Carmy: So, um... when you said it's okay to fall out of love, you were... you were right, Sug. I-I think I've been falling out of love with all of this, but I– Nat: Oh, honey... I'm so proud of you for taking this step, you know that, right? Carmy: Um, yeah, but-but also... Actually, I-I've been wanting to-uh... talk to you about, um... Nat: What? Carmy: Ever since I came back, I... I've been, fuck, I've been falling in love, too... And I, and I fucked up, Nat. I fucked it up so bad. Nat, eyes soft: I'm sure you can fix things with Claire, hon. She finished her residency, maybe you two could get the fuck out of here and– Carmy, shaking his head: No, no, no, no, Sug, I-uh... I'm not talking about Claire. I'm talking about... Fuck. Someone else. A beat. Then Nat, cogs turning in her brain: Oh. Oh. Carmy: ... Nat: Sydney. Carmy: ... Yeah. Nat: Oh, fuck. Dude. Carmy: I know.
