#'that was really good advice! maybe you should consider following it sometime!'

[ohdeerfully]

hiii! this is my first request on tumblr but i jus love alastor sm and there is NOT enough fics for me out there. so im asking u❤️

what abt alastor being jealous of someone else in the hotel? for example: angel dust, he puts on music and you two are dancing with eachother happily not noticing the red eyed demon with a tight grin. 🥰

Hii! Honestly after writing this I realized I didn't follow the prompt exactly, less jealousy and more Alastor being overprotective. Oh well! Hope you like it anyway :D!

Be Back Soon (i)

alastor x reader (fluff? alastor is just overprotective) part i TW: Cursing/Angel existing if you want tagged in the next part, lmk! join my discord! ═══ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ═══

Your fingers dragged down the skin around your eyes as you let out a long sight, sitting at Husk’s bar with shoulders propped on the cold counter. What a day it had been, running around in the typical chaos of the hotel as Charlie tried to get some group bonding activities finished. It was getting late, and you just finally had a moment of peace.

“‘Ey, toots!” The chipper voice broke your peace and you couldn’t help it when another audible sigh escaped you. The culprit of the broken science paid no mind.

Turning your head, you narrowed your eyes and made eye contact with the lanky pink spider. You were a little salty at him in particular, being one of the main catalysts to the everyday insanity. He had an easy grin played upon his lips as he stared back down at you with his multicolored eyes, one pair of arms on his hips that jutted out a little too unnaturally in a mischievous pose. His golden tooth glinted under his light grin with a similar air of “hey I’m up to no good right now.”

“You look fuckin’ tired!” He barked a laugh, dramatically squeezing his eyes shut in a theatrical show of laughing in your face. It really wasn’t that funny, and you couldn’t stop the frown that touched your lips as you watched him. He took pride in being the way he was. Annoying.

“No thanks to you, Angel,” You clipped back. You turned your head to watch Husk, who was leaning against the wall with his eyes closed. He had become an expert in ignoring the spider demon’s presence, which was how he managed to stay sane with said demon’s constant flirting and sexual nature.

“Anyway,” He waves away your targeted words with a wave of his hands as his eyes roll up. “I was thinkin’ we get outta here for the night? Me and Cherri were gonna have a “girl’s night.”” You briefly thought about the humor in Angel admitting to being ‘one of the girls,’ but pushed the thought away to consider his invitation. “It wouldn’t hurt ta get some fresh air. This place is real stuffy sometimes, and a huge snooze fest,” he persuaded. He rested his face on one pair of hands, fingers laced under his chin, as he leaned against the bartop in anticipation for your answer.

You purse your lips in thought. It wouldn’t hurt, right? You didn’t go out clubbing a lot, and with Angel and Cherri with you surely nothing wrong would happen. They looked out for their friends, and you would (maybe regretfully) consider yourself Angel’s friend. You glanced at Husk for a moment, as if looking for advice, but his eyes remained close and his lips had an annoyed curl. Maybe you should get out of his hair.

“Okay, okay,” You grinned, a little sheepishly. While you couldn’t really consider ‘fresh air’ to be a feature of Hell, you agreed that you needed to just Get Out of this place. Running errands for Charlie got mundane, even with all the strange characters that cycled through the place. One tends to get used to the chaos.

Angel stretched his arms up in a cheer, which earned a one-eyed, aggravated look from Husk. He uttered something under his breath before grabbing a bottle and walking to the other corner.

“Alright, sweet lips,” Angel cooed at you. “Let's get you dressed! You got anything decent up in your closet?”

Your hand found its way to the back of your neck as you answered sheepishly, “Eh, not really… At least, not for a night out. I don’t really do much outside of the Hotel.” Angel frowned at the response, tapping his chin in thought.

“Lemme take a look,” With a swipe of his arm, your hand was suddenly being held as he dragged you up the steps toward the floor of your room.

Walking down at the same time, you briskly passed by Alastor, who had his eyes closed and a hum in his mouth. His blazing red eyes peered open as you and Angel rushed past him, a quizzical furrow in his brow seeing the connection between your hands. You shot him a shy grin and craned your head back to shout a quick ‘I’ll explain in a minute,’ before you disappeared around the bend of the stairs.

You didn’t miss the dark gleam in his eyes.

Angel, in an attempt to dramatically burst through your door, slammed full body into the entrance. “Ah- the hell?” He cried, roughly jiggling the handle.

“I keep it locked,” you snickered at him and the disheveled look in his usually preened hair. You saw him take his hands to brush it out as you fiddled with the lock, an annoyed mutter of words escaping his lips. The second the door clicked, Angel shoved past you and reattempted his dramatic burst through the entrance with a bit more luck this time around.

He went straight for your closer, rummaging through this and that. What a breach of privacy, this guy is, you thought with a strained smile as you stepped up next to him to try to guide him through your very Ordinary and Plain clothes.

You felt a prickling sensation on your skin, and you swear you heard a frequency of low static, but when you whipped your head around nothing stood there. Did that shadow just move?

Shaking your head, you looked at the piece Angel held proudly in his hands, one pair of arms gripping the top and the second pair pulling the bottom out to really get a full inspection.

It was incredibly simple, but still a bit more revealing than anything you were used to wearing. A deep red top, so cropped it may as well be a sporty bra, with a couple eye-catching accents of rhinestones. Connected with thin straps was a similarly tight pair of booty shorts. Your face flushed at the thought of wearing this. It was practically lingerie.

“Isn’t it a bit, uh, tacky?” You tried in an attempt to dissuade him from this getup. He acted offended, one hand going and pressing against his fluffed chest. You didn’t miss the way he took this as an opportunity and pressed up against himself to perk up his mass of chest fur.

“Babe, I wear shit like this all the time! You tellin’ me,” He started a rant, shaking the clothes in a fit of mock rage. “You tellin’ me I’m tacky? Hah! Me! Angel Dust!” He wiped away a fake tear in his laughter.

Your face flushed again looking at the getup. With a defeated mutter you swiped it from his hands and trekked painfully slowly to the restroom. You ignored Angel’s urgency for you to ‘hurry the hell up’ because it was almost time to get going.

You slowly stripped yourself of your day clothes, gingerly stepping through the tight shorts and tucking your arms through the straps of the top. You didn’t even remember buying this thing, it had been stuffed far in the back of your closet. You couldn’t help the feeling of dread thinking about the other embarrassing things Angel might have seen in there. Though, you doubt anything could phase that guy.

You had to admit, looking at your reflection, that it did accentuate your curves, even if you didn’t have much to begin with. The rhinestone accents glittered in the bathroom light, obviously designed in a way to bring attention to the chest. The straps that connect the two pieces fit snugly against your exposed torso. You were suddenly glad Hell never got that cold.

“Almost ready!” You snapped at Angel calling from the other side of the door. You quickly threw on some touches of makeup, trying your best to compliment the shades of your outfit and adding some glittery makeup around your eyes. You quickly dragged your fingers through your hair to style it comfortably.

You ripped open your door just as fists started banging on it. Angel stood there with two arms raised, stopped midair to keep himself from decking you in the head. You glared up at him, trying to maintain your earlier sourness to hide the fact that the outfit had grown on you.

“Hey, sexy lady!” Angel teasingly leaned himself against the doorframe with a smirk. “Let’s fuckin’ go! You took too damn long! Cherri hates waitin’.”

Grabbing your hand again, he ushered you out of the room. As you raced down the stairs, you tried to continuously preen your hair to keep it from flying out of shape as Angel practically drug you down each step.

He slowed at the bottom, releasing your hand, and stepping towards Husk’s bar to aggravate and flirt with the cat one last time before heading out. You tuned out his sexual innuendoes as you tried to glance over yourself one last time.

“My, what a dame you are!” Alastor’s recognizably radio-afflicted voice ripped your attention away from picking at a loose rhinestone. He stood over you, a slight bend in his waist and an unnatural crane in his neck. His smile was there, but tight and uneasily wide as he examined you through squinted eyes. He leaned his weight against his cane.

Swallowing your unease, you examined his expression. You knew Alastor didn’t care for such… promiscuous outfits. Especially on what he considered his. You knew his compliment was satirical, and you didn’t miss that glint of anger flash through his expression.

“Heyy, Al,” You drew out your words, unintentionally accentuating the awkward tone between the two of you. He paid no mind, keeping up that seemingly cheerful grin of his as he just… stared at you. His fingers tapped impatiently on the radio of his cane, each tap bringing a warp to the frequency that always surrounded him. “I’m going out with Angel tonight. Y’know… to get some air…”

“My dear,” His eyes closed in a laugh and he straightened himself out. “Why would you ever go out there for fresh air? Now, you know those demons would just eat you right up.” A dark sneer infected his smile, lips curling and exposing the line of his black gums.

“‘Ey c’mon, Smiles,” Angel stepped up next to you and lazily threw an arm over your shoulder. You saw that sneer only deepen as Alastor watched the spider get way too close to you. “Give ‘er a break! She’s always runnin’ around doin’ shit for this bum-ass hotel! It makes her… boring!” 

You didn’t know whether or not to appreciate Angel both defending and insulting you. You decided to just ignore his comments as you watched Alastor’s expression get darker and more sinister. You felt a cold sweat prickle at your neck as that static-y frequency of his became more prominent and aggressive as his eyes swept over the two of you, lingering on your exposed abdomen with a frustrated twitch in his brow.

“Why, of course!” He suddenly cheered, brandishing his hands to his side in a slight bow. “But…” He stepped towards you, looming over you. You felt that nervous tickle again. His right hand raised and, with a quick motion, a fairly modest jacket materialized around your shoulders. “All better! Wouldn’t want greedy eyes seeing what’s mine!”

How bold, you thought. He was from the ‘30s, though, and very old fashioned. It made sense that immodest wear bothered him. Plus, you looked down at the jacket. It had a similar color scheme, and was light enough to not be too warm. At least it goes with my outfit. How sweet.

You felt a bit giddy at the permission Alastor had given you–not that you needed it. (You did). You’re a grown ass adult. (It doesn’t matter). You shot him a smile of thanks before dashing out the door, meeting Cherri who had been frequently laying on the car horn for you to Hurry the Fuck Up.

Before Angel Dust could follow, a tight grip on one of his wrists stopped him in his tracks. He hissed, yanking his arm but to no avail. Alastor’s grab was like iron, and his nails began to dig into Angel’s skin.

“Hey you fuck, let me go! I gotta get out there before Cherri starts blowin’ this shit up!”

Alastor pulled Angel in closer, a sneer-like grin crossing his expression. There was a maddening look in his glowing red eyes.

“If she comes home with even the smallest scrape,” He said in a low tone, the garble of his radio slightly distorting his voice. “I’m going to make you wish you never came to this Hazbin Hotel.”

Alastor’s grip didn’t yield as Angel tried again in a futile attempt to release himself. He had a nervous laugh in his voice as he tried to act unintimidated by the Radio Demon’s threat.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, you creepy red fuck,” He gruffed back, “Me an’ Cherri will stick right by her. You don’t gotta worry about nothin’.” Alastor’s expression shifted in an instant, his cheerful grin reappearing. He stood up straight and smiled down at Angel. “Good man! Now, don’t be too long,” He shooed Angel out of the lobby, who was more than glad to get the fuck out of there. He heard a faint ‘I’ll be watching’ from behind as he slammed the car door shut, muttering curses under his breath.

He knew Alastor would send that damn shadow of his to keep a close eye, so why the fuck did Angel have to babysit you in the first place? Plus, you weren’t some weak, naive fool. Whatever. He knew Alastor would take any excuse to cause some entertaining mayhem.

He sighed as he looked at you, who had a nervous but excited grin as Cherri rambled and cursed about something.

Maybe he shouldn’t have invited you out. He knew he was in for a long, stressful night. Good thing there would be a bar.

[pomefioredove]

heyyy! i really love your writing🥹🥹 btw can i request a hc with riddle and jamil (separated) with gn!reader who’s very lazy and they have a test and only study the morning before the test? but somehow pass?? i wanna see their reaction

anyway sorry if i made any mistakes, this is my very first request and english is not my first language😔 it’s fine if you can’t do it!!

-🎲

no worries! this is a great request, their reactions would be very funny

summary: reader miraculously passes a test they last-minute studied for type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, jamil additional info: platonic or romantic, reader is not specified to be yuu, reader is gender neutral, not proofread

Jamil knew that it wasn't his place to judge

after all, being raised with the al-Asims, he'd been taught to keep his bitter thoughts to himself

but something about your carelessness reminded him all too much of Kalim

...okay... maybe you weren't exactly partying, or spacing out, but your complete lack of conviction is almost identical

and, so, Jamil decides to give you a word of advice the day before the big exam

"Worried about tomorrow's History of Magic test?"

he even gives you a big smile, trying to play it off as a casual question

you shrug. "Eh, not really,"

"If I were you, I'd be a little more concerned. The grading system is very strict at NRC,"

and with that, he's gone

his sly remark, spoken as if in friendly conversation, leaves him feeling a little more satisfied with himself

he doesn't even feel irked when Kalim nearly sleeps through the test, or when he forgets his notes, or when he absent-mindedly reads the questions aloud during...

in fact, Jamil is quite confident that in any case, you'll do much worse than Kalim, which saves the both of them

after the exam scores are posted in the hall, you find him

"What did you get?"

Jamil hates answering these kinds of questions, especially knowing that he could be in the top of the class if he was allowed to try. "Passing. And you?"

"Well..." you smile. "I really thought about what you said, so I studied this morning."

Jamil's sour mood at his own score seems to lighten

you studied the morning of the exam? oh, this was going to be rich

"...And I got full marks!"

...what.

you show him the paper and it takes all his strength to keep his usual poker face

otherwise, his jaw would drop

"How did... how?"

you shrug. "Good study plan, I guess,"

"Hmph," he crosses his arms. "Well, then... you'll have to come tutor Kalim sometime. What works for you must work for him,"

Riddle spends the entire week pestering you about studying

"I just don't feel like it," you groan

goodness. you sound just like that terrible Floyd...

"It's not a matter of want, it's a matter of need. This exam counts for a significant amount of your grade!"

"Eh... I'll just wing it,"

wing it?! oh, now you've really done it

"Consider yourself lucky for not being a part of Heartslabyul. I would have your head for that!"

and then he storms out. how graceful!

when he sees you the following afternoon, that calm, unbothered look of yours is still on your face. it drives him mad

"If I were you, I'd be praying," he says. he's almost smug about it

Riddle earns full points on every exam- it's just a given. he's sure that the two of you will be on polar opposites of the grade spectrum once the results are posted

you shrug. "Yeah, about that... I thought about what you said, and decided that I don't want to have to retake this class. So I studied this morning,"

he almost smirks. "One last-minute cram won't be enough to raise your grade above failing, I'm afraid. But perhaps this will serve as a lesson, next time you-"

Riddle stops dead in his tracks as Trein posts the exam results on the wall behind you

his eyes widen

"Full... full marks?! We're in the same percent!? How is that possible?!"

You chuckle as his face goes all red, both frustrated and flustered

"Hey, you should count this as a victory for yourself. You give great advice,"

[lamnwar]

Locker room Shenanigans // Kagami Taiga x Fem!Reader

MDNI 18+ knb kinktober entry!!

A/N: someone said "anything with kagami" and I love them for that bc that dude is so fiiiine I couldn't do a kinktober without writing about him yk 😫 it's 3.2k words bc I'm horny. Context: what can you, as a basketball team manager, do to cheer up your ace after a defeat? Warnings: Semi-public sex (in the locker room, people can hear them), riding, nipple play, unprotected sex, pussy eater kagami!, slight size kink (I couldn't help myself 😔✋🏽)

“Shit.”

Taiga’s harsh word is shortly followed by a loud clank! that echoes around the empty locker room. You sigh, still hesitating to get inside to look after your player.

He’s never really known loss since his high school days, ever growing to be one of the top players in Japan – if not the best player, which never fails to amaze people considering how extraordinary he already was as a teenager. Talent like that, and that you can say so with confidence from your years of career as team manager, is something incredible yet fragile. Of course, as a sportsman, he knows that you cannot always win. It doesn’t matter how insanely good you are, the game sometimes is nothing more than a product of luck. A mystery force driving the ball from one side to the other of the court, only to lead one team to the top, while the other falls from grace.

It does hurt to see the gut-wrenching look of defeat on the face of your players – you spend so much time with them that their feelings become yours, as if you are bonded by fate. But what really gets you, is seeing Taiga Kagami lose. The frustration written all over his face as he considers any mistake his; because after all, he’s the ace, the one that should carry the team to the top. But sometimes, it’s just not enough.

“Hey” your voice resonates in the empty lockers, forcing the tall man to throw a quick glance at you.

He’s silently slumped against the metallic doors, fingers fidgeting with the ring around his neck. It’s been at least fifteen minutes since the rest of the team has already left the gymnasium. Out of consideration for the red-haired player, you figured he might need some time alone. You’ve stayed behind, not willing to admit that you’re worried about him. Well, in all cases, what can you do? For all you know, he sees you as nothing more than his manager. Yet, you still sit next to him, your hand resting on the one that slumps on his knee. You give it a small squeeze, looking to be supportive.

“You know, I’m not even mad that we lost. I’m just... frustrated.”

You hum in agreement – it’s a fairly normal response to have after being through that kind of loss. The kind that feels like they could have been avoided, yet you can’t really pinpoint the moment things went to shit.

“While I agree that you should vent out that frustration, let’s not break the gym’s locker, yeah?” you chuckle softly.

“Sorry about that, I wasn’t thinkin – ”

“It’s fine, but if you’ll allow me, let me help you out here.”

He sighs, a slight scowl that you’d find cute overwise on his face. But this time, it is a clear expression of his thoughts, and you suddenly feel stupid for even thinking that there’s anything you can do to actually help him.

“I’m listening.”

He’s got nothing to lose, he thinks. He doesn’t expect you to change his mind, but at the very least do something – anything, really – just to make him forget about that daunting feeling for defeat, even if it’s just for a second. You’re taken by surprise, not expecting him to be willing to take any help, let alone from you. He must be truly in a bad state for him to agree to this, you ponder. The hand you had on his leaves as you scratch your cheek, in search for something to say.

“Ah... maybe you should vent it out? Like, in a better way.”

God, you’re a fucking disaster at giving advice.

“So, no punching around? Got it” he lets out, words laced in sarcasm.

You can’t help the small chuckle that leaves your lips – that’s just how lame your advice sounds. Well, you’re not wrong either. Whatever way he feels, wrecking the locker room can’t be the right way to cope.

“You know” you speak without much restraint on your thoughts, “I shouldn’t say that because I’m your manager, but getting shitfaced might help.”

He scoffs – ah, first time that you hear him laugh so far! A small fire warms your inside at the sound. You may not have realised so far, but nothing breaks your heart quite like seeing your players in despair, especially Taiga. What truly gets you is seeing a guy who is always so fired up and loud suddenly... quiet. Just a limp body full of brooding. So that scoff, however small it is, is enough to remind you how much he counts.

“Don’t we have a special training tomorrow?” he rests his head back against the lockers, a hint of a pout on his face.

“Then what do we have left? Alcohol’s out of the way, intense physical activity too...” you click your tongue. “And I really don’t see you do some meditation to feel better.”

“Yeah that breathing your feelings out bullshit is... well, bullshit.”

You laugh softly – that is such a Taiga thing to say. And to be fair, you might share his point of view on the topic. It might help letting out the breath you’ve been holding for too long, but any sort of meditation may, in this current situation, be just as efficient as putting a band-aid on a broken bone. You sigh, eyes falling on the furrow between his eyebrows. You lead your thumb to the crease, pulling the skin up. It’s a fairly childish move, one that makes him let out a semi-annoyed “ah!”.

“What do you do when you get frustrated?” he asks, swatting your finger away.

“Hm... I don’t often get frustrated like that. And if I do, it’s not in the same context.”

“I get that, we do not exactly have the same job here.” He hums, supporting his head in the palm of his hand. “Then what gets you frustrated?”

You stay silent for a minute, thinking. You do have a few things that gets you annoyed, leaving you feeling powerless because it’s out of your control, or just not that easily to solve. The small little things like slow walkers on busy streets, or when you try to teach basic decency to the shittiest guys. But really, nothing that comes as close as how Taiga must be feeling right now. And of course, there is the one thing that frustrates you the most, but that you probably shouldn’t bring up: your months-long period of celibacy.

You’re not proud to say that you haven’t had sex in so long that it sometimes eats at you in ways you wish it wouldn’t. And the worst is that you can’t really do anything about it. It’s not like you to have one-night stands with strangers, and for as much as you try to convince yourself that your fingers are enough, they’re clearly not. It doesn’t help either that you work with basketball players – tall, fine, muscular men who gets you going when seeing them show off their athleticism on the court. Although, to be fair, basketball players aren’t generally your type; but they’ve come to become, in your state of depravity.

But, of course, that’s not something you could say to Taiga Kagami. Especially not when he’s your player that turns you on the most. And yet...

“I get damn frustrated from not getting any” you blurt out.

You can’t tell what motivated you to say it out loud. Maybe because you wish that the embarrassment that comes with it will overshadow Taiga’s feeling of defeat? Because it sure is some kind of entertainment to make fun of your touch-starved self.

“Real” he responds.

You look at him briefly, surprised that he hasn’t laughed at you. You wouldn’t have blamed him if he did. Being a loser that cannot get fucked is not something that you are proud of, but if making fun of you is all it takes to put a smile on the ace’s face, you don’t mind (that much).

“What, like you don’t pull” you chuckle, incredulous, “don’t give me that.”

“It’s not that, it’s just that I don’t feel like having sex with just anybody” he shrugs, a ponderous filter in his eyes, “so I just kinda... wait for the right person to come. But damn, it’s atrocious.”

You laugh, and soon after, so does he. The sound travels straight to your heart, pulling on it with such might that you fear that he might tell already that you like him.

“Fuck, what am I talking about with my player?! Isn’t that a sexual harassment case in the making?”

The tall man chuckles, leg bumping with yours. You can’t say that you’ve cheered him up, but at the very least, he’s no longer sulking. You stop for a moment to observe the fatigue on his face, all this inner turmoil manifesting himself in his chapped lips, and the clench of his jaw, and the way you can tell that he’s been trying hard not to cry or look weak in any way.

“You might be onto something, though. Maybe a good fuck is what I need.”

“I cannot agree or deny.” You huff, a slight blush on your face. “Hope you find what you need for that.”

He hums, then lets out a long sigh. The gym is awfully silent, now that most players and most of the public is gone. You can hear the administrative staff outside the lockers, but there is some sense of peace right where you are, next to Taiga.

“Wanna go for a drink?” he suddenly ask, getting you to respond with a confused expression.

“What? Didn’t we agree that alcohol is out of the way? Not to mention that it’ll ruin your recup –”

“No, dummy” he punctuates his words with a small hit on your head, “I’m hitting on you.”

“Wh- where does that come from?!”

“You need to fuck, so do I. And I like you so I’m trying to be proactive... or something like that.”

You blink, not quite sure how to react to such an overflow of information. What should your brain start to analyse first, anyway? Should you focus on the reflection that led him to say something like that, figure out what kind of process is behind this conclusion? Or should you take in the new fact that he likes you? So much for you to take, and you don’t even realise when your finger went up to hook in the ring around his neck, or when you pulled him closer, and you can’t even tell what pushed you to kiss him.

Taiga is stunned, to say the least; but it seems that his reflexes aren’t only quick on the court, because his astonishment is only short-lived. By the time you register what’s going on, he’s got his hands on your cheek, holding you firmly, yet in a tender touch, as you taste his lips against him. The kiss is unusual, confusing. Wanted, yet not. His lips are soft, but his touch isn’t. You keep wanting more but you know you shouldn’t. It’s just too hard to stop, though, and the way your player grabs you makes you understand that you’ve started something that you can’t run away from. You pull away, panting, dazed by the feel of his touch on you. He looks like a dream, out of your reach despite his hands on your hips that hoist you up on his lap.

“Taiga...” you sigh, not sure of what you are pleading for.

“If you wanna stop, just tell me.”

You stay silent, watching his fingers pull on your top. It doesn’t even cross your mind to stop him. What is it, really? Is the frustration you’ve been feeling all this time from not getting fucked in so long? Or is it the attraction you’ve always felt for him, for once being expressed?

“Should we... they’re people outside. The door isn’t even locked!”

“I can keep quiet, can you?”

You stare at him, his challenging tone flipping a switching in your brain. You help him get you rid of your top, leaning in to give him a full-mouth, hearty, kiss.

“Bet. You gotta do a good job at keeping me quiet, too, though.”

He hums, soft lips trailing kisses down your neck to your collarbones, a certain urgency in the way it navigates on your skin on its way to your chest. You swallow your breath, feeling the warmth of his mouth on the sensitive skin of your breasts – your bra being a ridicule barrier between what you both want and the reality. He doesn’t bother removing your underwear, rather pushing the cups out of the way. You mumble a few swear words when he attaches his mouth to your nipples, his tongue and lips working languidly, almost as if he’s hiding malicious intents under his ministrations.

“Fuck, Taiga!” you grit your teeth, fingers intertwined in his hair as to pull him closer to your skin.

“Always wanted to do that,” he chuckles, letting go of your nipple in a wet pop! “every time I see you in your tight shirts, making me wonder if I’ll ever get to taste you.”

You laugh, flicking his forehead playfully. “Ah, so there’s some stuff other than basketball in that big head.”

He nods, lifting you up to sit on the bench. You let out a gasp, not expecting him to manoeuvrer your body with such ease. But at the same time, he is arguably one of the physically strongest players of the league – should you really be that surprised?

“Pants off, Manager. Gotta prep you nice if you’re gonna take me.”

“Cocky, aren’t you?”

He lifts an eyebrow, settling between your thighs.

“Huh? I’m not joking, that shit can tear you. It’s no use if I hurt you.”

You look at him, processing that piece of information. For the amount of time you spend in the lockers surrounded by half-naked men, you’ve learned not to look down there, out of decency. The last thing a team manager should be doing is staring at her players’ packages. But for some reason, you resign at not pushing your luck with Taiga. All things considered, he most likely has a massive cock.

You urgently let your pants and underwear slide down your thighs, pooling at your ankle as your dripping cunt presents itself to the player’s dark eyes. He swears, spreading your thighs enough for him to admire your needy hole – clenching desperately, and yet, he hasn’t done a thing.

“Well, might actually not need that much prepping” he ponders, letting his rough digits roam between your lips, spreading them open as your arousal coat his fingers. “You’re a bit greedy, aren’t you? Barely touched you.”

“Shut up, it’s been a while!”

“I know that much.”

His soft laughs reverb against the skin of your thighs, kisses and nips decorating them as he gets closer to your vulva. Oddly, the sight warms your heart – there is a certain beauty in seeing a man that was previously defeated now sporting an elated smile, and all that, thanks to your pussy.

An impatient, yet mind-boggling lick at your cunt, Taiga hums at the taste of your honey on his tongue. You let out a loud whimper, quickly covering your mouth when you consider the voices coming from the hall outside. It’s so hard to keep quiet when you have Taiga Kagami between your legs. His tongue is strong and agile, quite like him on the court, reaching the right places to make you squirm, almost sliding off the metal bench if it isn’t for his solid hold on your thighs. He’s a man starving, quenching his appetite in your oasis, taken by desperation, a greedy need to vent out all his troubles in your pussy.

“Fuck that, I wanna fuck you.” He groans, licking his lips.

“Not gonna make me come?”

He shakes his head, standing up to pull his sweats down, boxers stained by the bit of pre-cum he’s already leaking just from enjoying your body so far. You fuss, the loss of his tongue on your aching clit feels like a betrayal of the worst sort. The red-head lets out an amused huff – it’s somewhat cute, seeing his oh-so-serious manager losing her shit from how much she needs to get fucked. An amused smirk on his lips, he tugs your pouting ass on his lap; you gasp, the feeling of his bulge against your pussy making you realise that this is really happening.

“Wanna ride me instead?” he hums, manoeuvring with one hand to extirpate his cock from its confines. “See if I was really being cocky early, hm?”

You feel like a slut for being that eager, shamelessly grinding against him, not even hiding your impatience to feel him in. Hell, you don’t even care about how uncomfortable the metal feel under your knees as you straddle his lap – no, it’s all pointless compared to the god-sent feeling of his bulbous tip at your entrance, prying the doors open to make you curse like a sailor. You sink down on his dick, fingers gripping his shoulders with all your might. Have you been depraved for that long? Or does it feel heavenly to bounce on his cock because it might just be the best one you’ve ever had?

Your half-lidded eyes fall on his figure – he’s not even fully undressed, clothes dishevelled while his naked manager ride him like the most experienced whore. Curious ears catch winds of your moans, moans that Taiga tries as much as he can to swallow with his sloppy kisses, but he can’t even help himself. The grunts that leave his throat; feeling your walls clenching around his cock, forcing him to hold you by the waist to guide your movements to match his desperation.

“Holy fuck, you take me so well” he groans – no, it’s more of a raspy whine.

“Dick... so good!” you babble, in deep struggle to be coherent.

You may try as hard as you can to use your words to clarify the chaos in your mind, but you are no poet. Just the nicest manager on Earth, most certainly, letting her player deal with her frustration by pounding into her like a man depraved. Sex written all over your faces, you don’t bother to keep quiet anymore. The more he goes, the harder it gets. You roll your hips frantically, the knot in your stomach that you’ve missed for so long menacing to unravel.

“Ah! Shit sorry, I don’t think I can’t pull out of that pussy...” he pants, trying his best to delay his orgasm just so he doesn’t come too fast.

“Don’t!”

Your hurried answer makes him chuckle – he could never expect that from someone he thinks of as the personification of responsibility. But there’s no point in asking question or getting confused. He’s got one thing in mind, and that’s the fuck all of the frustration out of both your systems. Mind too busy with your body to think about his loss, about the daunting feeling of failure. Who fucking cares, when he has you?

“Shit!”

You mewl, clenching tight around him as you’re hit by the waves of your orgasm, triggering Taiga’s. He spills heavily, thick thighs trembling under you as he sloppily thrust all his cum in your voracious hole. He pants, head falling on your shoulder in solace.

No but seriously, can Taiga Kagami truly know defeat, when he’s never once failed at making a pretty girl come?

[notsoverymerry]

lucky trip (k.ys x reader)

<kang yeosang x fem!reader> summary: On a particularly tiring work trip, you're forced to share a room with Yeosang; only there seems to be a problem with your sleeping arrangement… genre/warnings: smut, fluff, friends to lovers, use of pet names a/n: sure let me know anything you want! don't hold back, bby < 3 word count ~3.3k

KQ Entertainment greeted you with a piece of great news this morning. There's going to be a trip to Sokcho Beach to film a show segment. Two days and one night, and you can try yourself out as a camera operator.

Starting out in college, you weren't so sure you'd make it. Sound and video equipment is great; you always wanted to be the one in charge of setting it and making sure it works properly. Really, it's a perfect job that allows you to use your brain, and you've got a great one at that, and provides room for creativity and exploring hobbies in a workplace. You're curious about how they do weather reports and want to keep up with sports? Try to secure a place in a news studio. Want to go to concerts for free? Welcome to the venue setting-up team. Come to think of it, you'll see a show free of charge, and they'll pay you for it. Isn't is a dream come true? Working for an entertainment company was not something you expected to pick, yet it proved to be the right choice. Sure, it took a while before your company got rich enough to grant a decent, steady salary, but the results were worth it. The team was full of talented, ambitious people, and the tight setting laid out a path for you to become a true found family. You and other staff members cared deeply for each other, always ready to offer a piece of advice or listen to your problems. The band members, Ateez, were also sweet and kind, treating staff respectfully and being friendly overall. So, when you were picked for a short working trip, you felt excitement. You're going to be surrounded by friends, you're going to do your best to help create entertaining content for fans, and you're going to see a part of Korea you haven't visited before. Win-win, win. Bonus points if there's food you didn't try yet. The ride on the bus was a little less chaotic than you expected. At first, things were pretty usual: Ateez bickered and made jokes, and you and your team laughed, sometimes awkwardly. Despite the elevated mood all were in, bad traffic and members' exhaustion got the best of them. Hongjoong was the first to fall asleep, others following suit quickly. Sat closest to them, you turned the camera off for the remainder of the ride. Now you could admire Yeosang's sleeping frame and get some rest as well. Oh, he was just so beautiful, so peaceful like this. He caught your attention first. He was so polite and sweet, and a little clumsy. When everyone was on the brink of mental breakdown before their debut, he used to stride nervously around the building, bumping into you with enviable regularity. He nearly broke your DI and stage box unit, and thus, your conversation started. You weren't mad, you get it he was stressed, and he was thankful. Like that, a friendship blossomed. During breaks, he'd ask you about your week or if you finished that show you were into. You'd ask how their recent choreo's coming together or if he'd finally discovered a new favorite dish. You'd blabber something about new lighting or broken audio cables, and he'd always pick fried chicken over anything. You found him delightful. He found that he didn't care that much about cables, but still wanted to listen to you anyway. You're really passionate about your job. Your eyes sparkle when he comments on the sound being set just right for his earpiece. You can make puns about your gadgets all day long, and if Wooyoung rolls his eyes at the third one, Yeosang considers them actually funny (are they?). You're just so vibrant and so pretty, and he wants to be around you longer. Maybe he should learn to set up and help you. He thinks it could be a good idea. Maybe he should just ask you out on a date. Seonghwa thinks this idea is better.

It took about nine hours to film the first part of the show. You tried to set things up as fast as possible. Hopefully, by the end of it, you won't be completely spent. You really want to take some time to walk around; take in the scenery, breathe fresh air, and reflect on life. The beach is wide and clean; the guide said there'll be illumination until late at night, it'll probably look really nice. The water is very clear, almost looks like a pool. You just want to admire the view without needing to control the picture frame or panic that someone might get hurt. Work-free, beer in hand, ocean gazing. What could be better?  Ocean gazing with Yeosang, probably. The whole crew settled down to have a quiet one at the end of the shift. Ateez seemed to have woken up completely, now lively chatting amongst themselves, waiting for you to put the rest of the equipment away for the night. Fresh air and cold beer will do that to you. You can feel eyes linger on your busy form. Turning around, you're met with his dark eyes. He follows your movement, not realizing that he's been caught until getting nudged in his side. Oh, now he's going to be teased the whole night. ''Wanna join them? You did great today, y/n, go have some fun.'' Your colleague tries to send you off.  You like to imagine you're smooth and nonchalant about your crush on a young and very attractive singer. Your friends, though, would use other words to describe it. What is it, let's see… Tangible? Painfully obvious? Yeah, that's the one. So they try time and time again to encourage you to confess. They leave you two in the room under a variety of excuses and give you tasks that would force you to go up to him unnecessarily often. Their efforts seem to go around both of your heads. You and Yeosang like to call yourselves very good friends. Everyone around you likes to call you fools. Just so you know.  ''It's okay. I think it's time we head to the hotel. Still plenty of work tomorrow, let's get some sleep.'' ''Yeah, about that…'' You do not like the sound of that. ''We might have got the number of rooms wrong.'' What's that supposed to mean? You're not sure you understand where this conversation is going. How can you even get the number of rooms wrong?

''Wait. No, no.'' ''Yes, you're sharing a room with Yeosang, yes.'' She sounds apologetic, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes, per se. ''He knows and he's okay with it!'' How did your sweet evening at the beach turn into a full-scale anxiety fair so fast? Of course he'd agree to share a room; he's way too nice. You should do a breathing exercise. It's just one night, and you're both tired, and you both have to get up early, so surely you will sleep. Just sleep. Nothing unusual, you'll wash up and get in bed. Yeah. You shouldn't worry about it. He probably doesn't even think of it much. Oh, god, what if you snore? With your heart beating out of your chest and your head heavy with thoughts, you got to your designated room at last. 

You don't know how much time you spent at the door, but you couldn't find the courage to enter. Maybe you'll be lucky and he'll already be asleep.  ''Oh, y/n!'' Well, shit. ''What are you doing? Did you forget your key?'' ''Yeosang! No, I was just waiting for you. To enter, you know?'' ''Such an intricate moment. I'm glad you want to experience it with me.'' Y/n.exe has stopped working. Did he mean it? You should ask what he means; you do not need misunderstandings, not with him.  But out comes, ''More like I want you to enter first to see if there's any entities present.''  Hu chuckles and reaches in his pocket for the key. The thing that comes next is something you were definitely not prepared for. You shared rooms with your friends before. The number of beds equals the number of people, right? Not today. A minute of silence hung in the air, and Yeosang let out a breath of confusion. ''Why— why are there so many beds in here?'' He asked, bewildered. 

In a relatively small room stood four twin beds. Adorned with— you do not care about artistic interior description right now. Four beds. Did you and Yeosang both get the room number wrong? You giggle. You don't know why.  ''I'm calling dibs on this one,'' you say, as you flop down on one of the beds near the window. The view is nice; you can see the waves a little afar, but you can't hear them from here. Yeosang settles on another bed by the window. You guide your eyes his way to find him already looking at you. You feel soft. Seen and appreciated. He can't just do that — to look at you like you're everything he's ever wanted. It's ufair. A soft smile is tugging on his lips, cheeks and neck tinted pink from alcohol. Suddenly, he errupts in a fit of laughter.  ''What's so funny?'' you inquire. ''We have four beds! Just for the two of us. And you're beautiful. Gosh, y/n, you're so beautiful and pretty and amazing…'' He's blabbering rather happily. It takes a moment to register what he said. You're beautiful… And it's funny. No, you don't get this man. Watching your face now very carefully, Yeosang reaches his hand for you. Too far. He can't touch you, and he's disappointed, and it shows.  ''Wanna touch you,'' he pouts. It sounds much less happy and way more needy than he had planned.  Your body moves on its own. There's an unexplainable gravity force that pulls it on his bed, a little too close for a friendship. His hands cup your face, and he sighs, relived. He wanted to feel your warmth for so long. Seeing how compliant you are, how there seems to be no hesitation in letting him near and into your personal space, and how content you look in his presence, he doesn't understand why he's never done it before. ''Yeosang,'' your voice is quiet, almost a whisper. ''What are you doing?''

He doesn't know. So, instead of answering his lips do something better. They touch yours. You can't believe it's happening. The moment your lips meet, he nearly moans. You feel so good. The kiss is head-spinning; it knocks the breath right out of your chests. He presses into you with demand, hands circling your waist to bring you closer. You don't want this moment to end. Yeosang is holding you in his arms like you'd disappear if he let go. Heat waves pulsate through your body; the way his hands linger on you makes wetness drip down your folds. You hug him back, clinging onto his hoodie like a lifeline. The room feels colder all of a sudden, and Yeosang thinks he can't let go of your hot form now. So he turns on the mattress a little and fumbles around so he can bring you to his lap. He brings your faces close once more, this time it's more heated, it's teeth and tongue and desperation. You feel his growing excitement press over your core. His mouth leaves yours to discover your neck is so sensitive for him. He's had a bit of beer, but it's your soft whimpers and mewls that get him really drunk. His hand slithers to grab and squeeze your ass. The sounds you're making are angelic, and your hands weave through his hair to tug at his strands, and it's just so right, he can't help thrusting into you.  ''Is this okay, y/n? Hmm?'' He breathes out, face back up to level with you, and his lips brush your cheek.  You nod; it takes all your brain capacity to let him know you want it too — forming words became a heavy task. Your confirmation is all he needs to lift you up and change positions, now hovering over you. He looks at you again, with shining eyes. A bit disheveled, hot, and bothered. He pushes your hair out of your face tenderly. This small action causes your heart to contract. Paitience wearing thin, you draw him back to you. 

''Do you have protection?'' ''Ye- yes, it's in my bag somewhere.'' You feel a cold prick at your skin when he stands up to roam in his belongings for a condom. It's lonely like this. All the other beds abandoned in the room must feel like icebergs, their covers rimy and uninviting. The second he's back on top of you is like a sunrise, you think. There's another kiss, the I'm sorry I had to leave kiss. He works on taking your top off. Exposed to his advances, your chest and collarbones get all the attention. His knee is between your legs, and when he bites your tender skin, you start to grind. He follows suit, now both of you groaning, trying to get rid of the rest of your clothes in a hurry.  There's plenty of great pleasures in the world, but nothing compares to the feeling of his skin on yours. To have him roam and clutch on your body everywhere he wants. You can't wait anymore; you want him, so you lean to kiss his neck up to his ear, tugging on his earlobe with your teeth. His little whimper trickles like honey down your legs. He can't seem to take his hands off you. Calling his name in a whine, your lips form a pout.  ''Please, Yeosang. I need you.'' ''I am right here, baby. It's alright, I'll take care of you.'' The nickname makes you clench around nothing. The friction that felt so good is gone; he moves his thigh away a bit so he can put on a condom. Yeosang thinks you look unreal. He wants to take his time exploring your body with his tongue, wants to mark you all over. Claim you so everyone knows. He'd spend hours eating you out, making you see stars behind your eyelids, and cry his name. He knows he can treat you right, the way you deserve to be treated. But he's so hard it almost hurts, and you look hurt he moved away from you at all. How can he ever leave his baby, even at an arm-length? So he rushes to your form and grabs your legs from under your thighs to yank you to him. You're mesmirised. You'd never think you wanted to be manhandled. But it's him, Yeosang, and it's so, so hot. His toned body glistens in the dim light coming from the window. Touching him is like heaven on earth, his muscules are tense under your fingers, and delicious sounds escape his throat. He pushes in slowly, savoring every emotion on your face. You are in bliss, hips start bucking onto him. ''Slowly, baby, I'm not going anywhere,'' Yeosang coos. 

He trusts steadily, drinking up every moan and breath you make. His own pleasure escapes him in the form of small grunts, making goosebumps run around your body. He ravishes your bare chest and collarbones in kisses and licks, wanting to mark you so badly. You are so tight and warm, your nails dig into his back, and he loses himself in the feelings completely. He speeds up and finally lets his teeth sink into the dip where your shoulder and neck meet. You mewl at the sensation; your wals flutter around his shaft.  ''What a nice little sound, baby. I think I'll bite there again.'' If your eyes didn't shut at all the pleasure he's giving you, he'd see endless dark pools your pupils turned into. All for him. Though his eyes were just the same. His lust takes over him more and more, thrusts getting deeper and harder. The way you pull at his hair lets him know you're enjoying yourself, too. The room is filled with wet sounds, skin slapping against skin, and your moans getting louder. Both of you won't last much longer.  You're a hot mess, stuttering pleas and praises and his name like a mantra. His voice is deep and full of relish, you want to record it, keep it all to yourself, and listen to it twenty-four seven. You feel so proud for making him feel this good. Your orgasm washes over like a tidal wave. It builds inside and makes you clench around Yeosang, nails leaving marks on his back. He stares at your face contorted in pleasure, feeling that impossible tightness bring him closer to his own high. ''That's good, baby, keep doing that, oh, god—'' He pulls you close so your body is pressed against his own. His hips stilling, he spills inside the condom with a groan. He's never felt so good.

Neither of you move for a moment. You need to catch your breath, and you just don't want to let go of him. Reluctantly, he tears himself off of you to clean the both of you a little. Settling into the sheets with you, he sighs and wraps his arms around you again. Your voice breaks the comfortable silence of your afterglow.  ''That was… amazing. The best sex I've had. I— I don't know how I'm gonna look you in the eyes tomorrow.'' ''Oh…'' Comes his reply. He didn't think about that. Honestly, he didn't think at all, you kind of overtook all regions of his brain. Probably even before this night.  ''I— Listen, y/n, I didn't want to do it this way. Truth is, I really like you… Shit, it probably is the worst time to ask and the worst confession you've ever heard in your life, but'' he sighs again, and there's a hint of nervousness in the way his fingers trace patterns on your arm irratically. ''Go out with me?''  He looks at you with those big, pleading eyes, lip stuck between his teeth in anticipation. Who ever told him he could pass as a doberman? ''Yeah, okay, I'll go out with you,'' you're trying to be smooth. Is it working? ''Really? Great!''  Good thing Yeosang doesn't care if you're smooth in the slightest. 

The next day starts off with a headache and a violent impulse to sleep in. If only you weren't stuck in the hotel with your colleagues. Surprisingly, Yeosang and you make it through the day without a trace of awkwardness or tension, keeping things professional and conversations light. The team is too busy working to tease you. The boys in Ateez also seem rested, even more energetic than the day before. Take the captain away from the studio to a nice beach… and he actually sleeps, huh.  On the ride back, you get a text from Yeosang asking when you're going to be free to go on a date. Your giddiness does not go unnoticed. Just then your friends decide to ask if there were any complications in your sleeping arrangement, a mischevous twinkle dances in their eyes. Time to get back at them.  ''Not at all! Our room was quite nice, and the view was great. We had four beds all to ourselves. Right, Mr. Kang?'' He offers a polite smile and nods at you and several curious sets of eyes turned his way. You're the only one to notice his eyes dart to your lips for a split second.  ''You had… four beds..?'' Your staff friends seem confused. They definitely had a different idea in mind. Hongjoong seems weirdly offended. ''Oh, so you get four beds, and I have to endure Seonghwa drooling on my arm all night?'' You definitely got the wrong room. Good for you. 

[backwardsbread]

Your “Hazbin Hotel Characters Forgetting an Anniversary” has become a comfort post of mine. You did such a good job with it and did amazing in capturing their personalities as well!

I was wondering if I could request an Adam fic? Like one where he realizes that he actually cares about reader, but he goes about showing that in the strangest ways? He may be a massive obnoxious jerk in the show, but he somehow made his way to being a favorite of mine in the show.

My heart- opening my inbox and seeing this made my day-

I’ve also been obsessing over Adam fics lately so seeing something with Adam get requested made me SO happy! I am happy to oblige~!

Adam x Gn!Angel!Reader

~Feelings are Fucked~

Warnings‼️: Adam being Adam, mutual pining, swearing, maybe OOC?

~Not proofread~

Listen. I don’t gotta tell you that Adam is always up his own ass.

Dude is OBSESSED with himself.

He would be the type of guy to be like;

“Oh yeah, have you heard of the BIBLE?? I’m kinda in it, no big deal.”

He’s on his own mind 99.9% of the time. His needs, wants, desires.

He’s so Self centered it’s not even funny-

So IMAGINE how he feels when you start to pick your way into his thoughts. And he has no idea why.

(Obviously Adam was the superior being, why should you have all people be on his mind??)

It’s easy for him to brush away these random thoughts of you. He could easily distract himself with material things to get his mind off the topic.

Eventually when distractions stop working, he feels like he’s going crazy.

He’s got a lot of things to do in Heaven, yet you feel like the most important ones to him.

I can see Adam being a huge flirt in the beginning. If he can get you to fall for him as hard as he has for you, he’ll consider it a win.

But he doesn’t really realize how much of a dick he comes off as. He absolutely makes a fool of himself majority of the time.

Gives the vibe of him saying something lowkey offensive while laughing and you just staring at him blankly and asked ‘What’s so funny?’

It’s frustrating for him how he can’t seem to get to you.

He doesn’t ask for advice from anybody, but I can definitely see Lute giving her 2 cents while Adam is ranting about how ‘annoying’ you are.

Her biggest piece of advice being for him to just stfu sometimes and actually listen to you.

Adam will never admit how much that actually helped him, it seemed like such a simple solution that he just hadn’t been doing.

So instead of being this overbearing flirt, he’ll just listen to you talk, occasionally chiming in with his own banter. Through this he learns a lot more about you.

And he makes an effort to show you he’s been listening.

You mention your favorite candy? He grabs some for you whenever he’s out getting snacks.

You mention a favorite scent of yours? Suddenly his whole house smells like it whenever you come over.

Got a favorite flower? He just so happened to see some at the garden and brings you one.

Of course he makes sure to follow up his kind gestures with a flirty or snarky remark. Trying to be this big tough guy despite how sweet he’s being to you.

He doesn’t realize how much of a total sap he’s being and how obvious his feelings are for you.

I can totally see Adam’s love language being gift giving and physical touch.

He’s not good with words. Never has been, never will be.

So he often shows his care for you by poking your side or cheek, resting his head or chin on your shoulder, ruffling your hair, or keeping one of his wings behind your back to make sure your close to him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Adam was walking along the streets of heaven with you, ranting about how his superior Sera, was supposedly being a Karen.

In his words she ‘wouldn’t get off his dick’ about his behavior and language. You listened to Adam’s ranting, letting him express his frustrations despite how petty the situation might’ve been. You occasionally let out hums of acknowledgment and nod towards him to show you were listening.

While you’re paying attention to him, a few angels who seemed to be in a rush, nearly bump into you from behind. Adam catches a glimpse of the angels coming your guys’ way, and extends his wing out to shield you from the other angels.

He grabs your hand, bringing you closer to him while his wing wraps around your torso. He waits for the angels to pass by, giving them an extremely fake smile as they flew by. Once they were out of sight, Adam’s smile falls and he grumbles to himself, pulling his wing back to his side.

“Stupid, fucking… can’t watch where they’re going?”

He keeps your hand in his own, continuing to grumble how some angels needed to mind their business and watch where they were going. The two of you continue to walk, but Adam’s voice seems to drown out, and you can only really focus on your hand in his own.

Sure Adam had been affectionate to you many times, but never in public. It wasn’t something that bothered you either. You just felt anxious butterflies fly around your stomach, a sense of pride welling up in your chest that Adam was holding your hand. As the two of you are about to reach your destination, you finally speak up to Adam before you would have to depart from him.

“Hey, are you.. doing anything.. tomorrow evening?”

You ask, scratching the back of your neck a bit with your free hand. Warmth spreads across your face as Adam just kind of stares at you for a moment, pondering.

“Uhh, got a few boring ass meetings after noon, but otherwise, I’m chilling for the rest of the night.”

“Would you.. want to go out to dinner tomorrow? If you’re up for it.”

Your question seemed to go over Adam’s head of what your intentions were. Free food was free food, (and time spent with you was a plus)

He lets his ego take over for a bit, putting a proud hand over his chest. His grin shines across his mask, spreading from ear to ear.

“I suppose I can make some time for you. As long as I get to pick the place.”

You can’t help but chuckle, face flushing hues of pink when Adam agreed. You smile brightly, finally letting go of Adam’s hand.

“Sounds good! Let’s say around 5 or 6?”

“Don’t rush me babes, I’ll text ya when I’m headed over.”

Adam says nonchalantly, crossing his arms. Despite his attitude, you watch his eyes shift away from you, avoiding your gaze. He’s embarrassed and you can tell by how his guard started to come back up. You had learned these little telltale signs Adam had. You chuckle, simply waving to Adam, wishing him good luck on his meeting and telling him you’ll see him tomorrow.

Adam smiles genuinely, giving a small wave back, before turning towards the large angelic building to head inside. Lute was waiting by the door for him and she just so happened to hear your guys’ little exchange. Adam’s whistling to himself, his heart beating fast in his chest but he can’t put his finger on the exact reason as to why.

Lute looks towards him, raising a suspicious brow. She sighs seeing how Adam was oblivious to what he had just agreed to. While holding the door open for Adam to enter the building, she speaks.

“You know they just asked you on a date, right?”

Adam’s whistling comes to a complete stop, his body freezing where he stood. Lute glances up at him, pressing her lips together so she doesn’t laugh at Adam’s look of shock.

“They fuckin’ what??”

[wandixx]

Count the freckles, connect them like the stars part 2, Pisces

Summary: Five time Danny found and drew constellations from M'gann's freckles and one time she did that for him

M’gann tried to not do it too often, but there was something really nice in going on a rant about something inconsequential. She was leading a stressful life, like all other heroes, teenage or not. It was impossible not to, when every other day could end in life-or-death situation, with innocent lives as additional stakes. Personally she thought she was quite good at handling it, too. She wasn’t the one to get frustrated easily, to explode at people over things that stressed her out in other parts of life, and lately she even got some useful coping mechanisms thanks to Black Canary. She certainly had bigger problems than characters in her sitcoms.

All it is to say, there was still something enjoyable in channeling pent-up stress into winded discussion about something she found absurd in old English poems or other elements of her homework.

“And it feels so dumb, like, man heard from some witches that he’d get promotion, which wasn’t that surprising, considering everything he’d done, and then become king, and then when he got said promotion by virtue of doing what he was doing, he decided he needs to force the fate”

“Exactly! Like, Macbeth, my man. Even if you assume these ladies are right, which, why would you do that, these were randoms by the road, this means you’re guaranteed to become king. Why kill your king, your friend who you’ve been wax poeting about few pages ago?!” Danny agreed passionately, waving his hands in righteous exasperation so much, that he almost tripped over his tea. In all honesty, he was M’gann’s favorite rant partner. Sometimes he’d ask «Do you need solution or someone to yell with?» and then he was always eager to match her energy and never tried to give her advice when she didn’t ask for it. On few occasions they stumbled upon resolution while egging each other on, but but that was never a point. The point was to complain about whatever until they both felt better about it.

“And maybe it makes sense and makes everything deeper or something, but who the hell is Hecate and why did she just show up? Like, can everyone stop acting like it’s obvious? Not everyone here is human” she whined, slightly redundant. After all, big part of why she was at school in the first place was because people assumed she was human too. Still it would be nice if things were explained a bit more.

“And it’s not even general human thing, just ‘Western’ culture thing. Hecate is goddess from Greek mythology, though I’m not sure why she was used here? Maybe because one of her things were crossroads. But still. She is not really well known. Like, bitch please, not everyone here knows mythology, give people breadcrumbs at least”

“Breadcrumbs?”

“Breadcrumbs. Tiny pieces of information that can lead you to the answer. It’s from some fairy tale, I think”

“Huh. Cool”

M’gann leaned back in her chair and looked at the high ceiling for a moment.

“I need to get around to making bread sometime soon. That could be fun”

Danny just hummed in agreement.

“But it’s hard to heat up the kitchen enough for dough to grow, since it’s connected to main area”

She saw out of the corner of her eye how Danny’s face scrunched up, deep in thought.

“I think Sam mentioned some recipe that let’s bread grow in fridge overnight. I can ask her about it, if you want”

Girl slumped back forward, to look at him surprised, to make sure he was serious.

“Would you?”

“Of course”

“Thanks”

She reached forward to get her own tea. Danny’s eyes followed her hands as if they were artifacts cursed so once you looked at them, you couldn’t look away. She mentally reached out, just a little, just slightly, to brush against his most surface level thoughts to see what got hims so intrigued. Not any deeper, just–

Ah. He found stars in her freckles again. He wasn’t sure if he should mention it.

M’gann wondered how she could ask about it without bringing up the fact that she read his thoughts. Sometimes it was hard to balance between what his comfort and hers. Without telepathy, people’s moods were downright indecipherable, but she knew humans didn’t really see it the same way, and couldn’t separate public thoughts from private ones.

She needed something with hands, something with–

“Unrelated human culture question, girl at my school offered to do some palm reading on me, do you know what does it mean?” she asked, bringing her hands forward a bit. She hoped he’d take them, but didn’t want to make it too obvious. He did, careful warm fingers grasping her left wrist and flipping it palm up.

She slowly moved pen over to where they sat with her telekinesis, doing her best to not call any attention to it.

“It’s a superstition. Some people believe they can read future based on the lines on people’s hands,” he explained, feather-light finger tracing it “It’s usually stuff like how long will you live, something about your love life, maybe some other things? I don’t know much, I always preferred other forms of pseudoscience.”

“Like what?”

“Astrology~” he said with pizzazz, flipping her hand again, “and you have Pisces, which means you’re caring, optimistic, kind and sweet”

M’gann couldn’t help but laugh. She tried to keep open mind to all different Earth concepts, to not treat them as stupid, even if she considered them absurd, but this one caught her off guard. It was fine though. Danny laughed too.

“Does it really?” she deadpanned, after they both calmed down.

“Yeah!” He mindlessly grabbed the pen and started drawing line just below her knuckles “Pisces is one of the Zodiac Constellations, which is this sort of belt of stars that Sun passes through over the year. Each constellation is supposed to take up 30° of the sky and has assigned time to it, based on when Sun is in opposition of it, so it’s best visible at night. People born during that time have specific Zodiac Sign. Like I said, some people believe it affects people’s personalities and life. I’m Gemini, so allegedly, I’m really curious, playful and adaptable–”

“It’s not wrong.”

“Eh,” he stopped drawing to look at her and wave his hand in so-so motion, “Unfortunately some people get really intense and rude about it, so they’d say I’m two-faced and inconsistent or some shit and then decide they should never talk to me again. Personally I see it as dumb fun though,” he finished, scratching against her skin to write visible lines. M’gann was sure this particular pen normally wrote smoothly, but it seemed like skin made it a bit harder to use. It was alright, she liked the slightly tingly feeling it left behind.

“And my zodiac sign is Pisces?”

"I mean, you're not from Earth and I don't know when you were born, so it's hard to say"

"Right, dumb question"

Danny stopped again and stared at her intensely, suddenly deep in thought. M'gann carefully didn't peek, even though she was curious.

"It isn't," he started slowly, "Mars is close enough that parallax doesn't really affect way stars are in relation to each other, at least from what I read, so you probably could see Zodiac Belt from the surface. We can try extrapolating Earth Zodiac to Martian year and based on that see what was most likely visible when you were born. That could be pretty neat exercise"

"Huh. Are our stars really the same?"

"Yeah, it's really cool, but I don't get it enough to really explain," Danny answered, sounding genuinely bothered by the fact. This just wouldn't do, it was supposed to be time for them to unwind.

"It's fine. Maybe next time."

"Maybe next time"

"What's the story behind Pisces? Like the one you told me about Virgo and three Goddesses?"

Danny relaxed, though he quickly turned a bit sheepish.

"Funny story… There is no story" M'gann forcefully tramped down her disappointment.

"So, was Virgo only constellation with the story?" she asked, trying not to grumble. She enjoyed listening to Danny, when he was so excited, with shining eyes and almost glowing. Sometimes, it was hard to get that out of him, even if he genuinely felt it. M’gann was careful to not look to deep into his mind, so she didn’t actually know why at times he kept repressing every bit of excitement he seemed to feel. She was determined to let it surface far more often.

And these were nice stories too.

“No, don’t worry,” Danny said, not quite laughing, but with this type of projection about him, “It's just Pisces really. I think it was because Greeks adopted Babylonian Zodiac and had to scramble to find anything that could be set as origin story for each constellation. For everything else they found something, more or less matching, but Pisces proved to be difficult. Virgo is supposed to look like Maiden and other Zodiac also has assigned something they look like and based on that myths were assigned. Pisces is said to be two fishes that are tied together by their tails but nobody knows why they'd be that. One idea I heard was that they were fish that lead Aphrodite’s chariot after she came to be from sea foam. Aphrodite was Greek Goddess of Beauty and Romantic Love and was born from Uranus' blood that fallen down on see when his son injured him. I'm not sure if said fishes even appeared in any other Aphrodite myths, or even most versions of her origin story, so I don't think this counts. But I like the way it looks. It's pretty."

M'gann looked down on her palm, where Danny successfully kept upon drawing. She didn't really see what could be so pretty about this particular shape, she thought it was no different to other ones she saw, when Danny drew or when she later went to check it out, but who was she to disregard his sense of aesthetics. Maybe it was something specific to how human or ghost brains were wired.

"It's fine," After a moment she added "So, Pisces have no story and some humans can be weirdly intense about stars on night of others birth”

“Exactly”

“And I’m Zodiacless”

“For now… Ha! I’m done!”

When M’gann looked at it again, she still had trouble seeing fishes in it, but at this point she came to understand that humans were really good at finding things in most random places.

Danny was staring at her, when she looked up from wobbly drawing. He grinned, like he was barely stopping himself from laughter.

“Don’t worry, I don’t know how anyone saw fish there either”

[tgmsunmontue]

You look like a bad idea... 4/? WIP

Explicit Hangster - based on this idea here. Bradley is not a naval aviator. Canon deaths (it starts at Ice's funeral). Addiction and alcoholism (and recovery) mentions.

PART ONE TWO THREE

PART FOUR

                Jake definitely feels the same sentiment as Bradley. Fuck. He really needed that too, more than he thought he did. He’s used to going prolonged periods without sex. He isn’t a huge fan, but he’s able to deal with it, especially as he’s gotten older. Sometimes he might find something mutually beneficial for the duration of a deployment, but that hadn’t happened on the one he was just pulled from to join the Dagger Squadron for this particular attachment. Hell. If that’s the last time he has sex then at least it was good. He’d leave a five-star review if that was a thing, and the thought has him laughing a little.

                He hadn’t stopped and gotten Bradley’s number. But he knows he can get it a variety of ways, not least simply asking Trace for it. Hmm. If she’d actually give it to him, considering her warning. Ah well, he’s also happy to simply ring and ask Sarah Kazansky, even Maverick might have it for all he knows. Which also means Bradley can find him just as easily if he so desires.

                Hmm. On that notes he spies Maverick and sidles up to him, notes the small plate of food and wonders whether he should have some.

                “So pops, any advice on asking the son of an Admiral out?”

                Maverick looks at him, eyes a bit glassy and Jake wonders if it’s tears or whether Maverick has been drinking. Maverick is frowning, looking a little confused which definitely lends itself as evidence toward the drinking theory.

                “Hmm. Who?” Maverick asks then, popping a piece of food into his mouth and Jake scans his eyes over the remaining guests. Not that Bradley needs to be here for Jake to say his name, but just thinking about him seems to conjure him up because he’s there, standing on the top step of the porch wearing completely different clothes from the black suit and charcoal shirt he’d had on earlier. Now he’s wearing light-faded denim jeans, tears in the knees, a long-sleeved white shirt with a deep scooped neckline and holy fucking shit Jake can see red marks that he knows he left not that long ago. Over the top is a garishly patterned button-down with coloring that makes him wonder if Bradley is maybe color-blind.

                It’s an odd combination but he still looks confident and at home, is moving toward Sarah with intense focus and Jake notes that Maverick’s eyes follow him, before looking to see Jake also watching Bradley. Then Maverick is coughing, and Jake’s focus switches to him, the coughing loud but also Maverick has gone red faced. He’s coughing though, breathing, so he holds back the immediate reaction to pound him on the back.

                “You okay Mav? Can’t have you dying because a piece of food…” He doesn’t add that Maverick is the best chance they have at succeeding at this fucking suicide mission. It gets him a weak laugh, a hand wave and Maverick is breathing again, but Jake notes his eyes haven’t left Bradley.

                “You talking about Bradley?” Maverick asks, his face returning to a little more normal color while he sucks in breaths and Bob has come over with a glass of water, because of course he has. The look he gives Jake clearly implies he thinks Jake is to blame for Maverick’s coughing fit and he may have a point.

                “I just… think he looks interesting,” Jake says, deciding in the minute to err on the side of discretion. He is at a funeral.

                “Bradley and I… have a complicated history.”

                Oh fuck.

                “Okay…” Jake says, quiet and consideringly, because oh fuck…

                “I need to talk to him. Explain.”

                Explain what? Jake wants to ask, but doesn’t get to say anything before Maverick is rambling about bad feelings, apologies and time passing and that he made a lot of mistakes. Jake suspects that Maverick might be a little drunk. Or… upset. Or both.

                “I should go and talk to him…” Maverick states, and Jake and Bob exchange a look, Jake blowing out a breath and just shrugging his shoulders as Maverick strides away towards the house where Bradley has disappeared into. Definitely at home here then.

                “That sounds like a really messy break up…” Bob says and Jake pulls a face. So it’s not just him imagining that it sounded exactly like Maverick was having regrets about his failed relationship with Bradley.

                Well.

                Fuck.

                How in the hell can he ever compete with someone like Maverick?

                In the air? Sure. Jake knows he’ll get there one day, he doesn’t have the decades of experience that Maverick does. Looks wise? Maverick is a damned good-looking man, and clearly Bradley doesn’t mind the age thing if they were together previously.

                Maybe it’s a good thing he didn’t get his number after all.

FIVE

[youcouldmakealife]

Gérard/Sven/Yvette; up to snuff

As we approach the final two weeks publication, here's the last of the extras! For the prompt: I would love early relationship Sven/Yvette/Gerard, angst or fluff or first times or hurt/comfort.

(It's early relationship! But maybe not the OT3 one)

“I have a question for you,” Sven says.

“If it’s about that shirt, the answer is no,” Gérard says.

Sven looks down. “It’s a no?” he says.

“I feel like I’m looking at one of those books of optical illusions,” Gérard says.

“I liked those books,” Sven says.

Gérard did too. He doesn’t even mind the shirt, dizzying as it is, though Sven would get fined if the team saw it, and he clearly knows that, since this is the first time Gérard has seen it.

“It’s visual stimulation,” Sven insists. Gérard has to wonder, sometimes, where he comes from. Ottawa, by way of Sweden, but Gérard knows a lot of Ottawans, and a few Swedes too. They also find Sven inexplicable.

“Don’t you think Yvette gets enough of that in a classroom?” Gérard asks. He can’t think of anything more visually stimulating than an elementary school classroom. It’s almost like that’s the point.

“You have a point,” Sven says. “I’ll change.”

“No patterns!” Gérard says.

“You’re no fun!” Sven says.

Gérard’s fun. At least, he remembers being fun. Lately, perhaps, not so much. Perhaps he’d be more fun if Sven wasn’t constantly asking him for advice before his dates with Yvette.

He’s trying not to be weird about it. It’s hard, though, when Sven’s asking how to look sharp for a woman he only met because Gérard met her first. That is, when he isn’t asking where to take her, what to do, how to act, like he’s forgotten everything in the face of meeting her.

Gérard would think Sven had never dated before, but he was coming to the bitter end of a two year relationship when they met, and he’s dated a few women since, though nothing was serious enough for Gérard to meet them, let alone the rest of the team.

Yvette has met the team, of course. Day one, but Sven’s invited her to every event open to significant others since. She’s only come to one, to Sven’s disappointment — unsurprisingly, the schedule of a hockey player clashes with the schedule of a teacher — but if Gérard needed a sign that Sven was serious about her — he didn’t — that would have made it very obvious. The team’s important to him. More important than anything. Though perhaps not lately.

Sven was hesitant to ask him for advice at first, considering the situation, but Gérard told him it was fine, and he can’t be mad at Sven for taking him at his word. And it should be fine. He wants it to be fine. He’s sure it will be, eventually, and he’s waiting for that.

And who else could Sven ask for advice, really?

His parents? They’re somehow even weirder than Sven is — everything about him was explained the day Gérard met him. Or, nothing was explained, he’s still inexplicable, but at least he figured out where it came from.

Friends? Sven doesn’t have them, outside the team.

So then, the only alternative is their teammates. Yvette seems almost as smitten as Sven, which is saying something, since Gérard wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already surreptitiously measuring her ring finger whenever they hold hands. But even with that latitude, if Sven follows their boneheaded advice he’ll almost certainly end up single again. Every one of their teammates in a relationship got to that point despite everything about them. Gérard is saying that with affection — mostly — but even so.

“How’s this?” Sven asks, emerging from his bedroom, then striking a pose as Gérard surveys him.

“You look good,” Gérard say.

He does. The shirt’s a solid colour, thankfully. Sven was unable to resist pairing it with a patterned tie, but they work together. His hair’s sticking up a little, probably from the quick change, but it’s endearing. Gérard thinks Yvette would find it endearing too, but then, he doesn’t really know that, does he?

“You need to fix your hair, though,” he says, and Sven runs his fingers through it, messing it up worse until Gérard takes over, finger combing it into submission. His hair’s soft and thin, almost downy, like a child’s. Gérard tries not to linger.

“I’m nervous,” Sven admits. Gérard’s well aware of that, though there isn’t really anything to be nervous about at this point. It’s not like it’s a first date, or meeting the parents — if it wasn’t already clear they were serious, the fact she’s already met Sven’s and Sven’s already met hers, well, Gérard thinks that makes it very clear.

Sven’s parents adored her, and Gérard’s not surprised. Sven’s unsure how her parents felt about him, and Gérard’s not really surprised by that either. He bets they liked him, though. It’s hard not to be a little overwhelmed when the full force of his attention aimed at you, but it’s hard not to be bowled over by it either.

“You have nothing to be nervous about,” Gérard says.

“I know,” Sven says, cracking a small, nervous smile.

How could Yvette be anything but endeared? Gérard never had a chance, but she didn’t have one either.

“Thank you,” Sven says. “For, you know.”

“Saving Yvette’s eyesight?” Gérard asks.

“Yes,” Sven says. “Thank you for that.”

“Any time,” Gérard says, and wishes he was strong enough not to mean it.

[lullabyalikpoptarot]

Enhypen Personality Energy (August)

This reading will be based on strong personality traits they are showcasing for the moment, as we are complex creatures, that are ever evolving. I thought it was best to give a snapshot into what personality traits they present for the moment.

Heeseung (Priest/5 of Cups)-With these two cards it seems he is the type of person who really cares about helping others. Giving them encouraging words of wisdom. With the Priest card, he has the capability of channeling through spirit, if he believes in it or not, but he can tap into a source of wisdom that help lift others from a downward spiral. Also, in times of sadness, he can also find ways to lift himself up and encourage himself to move forward. This can also mean when he is feeling down. He may look to someone of strong faith and wisdom to encourage him as well.

Jay (Guide/9 of Cups)-The Guide card did fly out in reverse. I don't normally read reversals, but when they come out that way. I do consider it. The shadow aspect of that card is someone who tends to be guided by money, rather than their intuition, or spiritual advice. Hey, sometimes you got to chase the money. No judgment here. Anyway, Jay is someone who knows what he wants and does what it takes to get it. He follows his own path and isn't easily manipulated or guided by others. He might sometimes struggle to listen to others guidance to be honest. He seems like the type that has a list of what he wants and checks it off one by one, until his wish is granted.

Jake (Empath/8 of Wands)-Interesting combination. So, the Empath card is a card I created in this deck. It shows he is a very empathetic person. He feels what others are feeling and can sense things about others. But with being an empath, it can also be pretty draining energetically, so he should take time to himself to recharge. I am not sure he does, because with the 8 of wands. He likes movement and excitement. He doesn't seem like the type that likes to be bored. It seems he needs to do something. Which is why his energy mostly seems tired and exhausted when I read for him.

Sunghoon (Mediator/4 of Cups)-So, the mediator card comes up for him a lot! Not surprised it showed up again. So, I can say with a lot of confidence he is a mediator type person, no drama. He sees both sides of the argument, rarely if ever picks a side. With this 4 of Cups, it gives me no one can persuade him at all. Dude is crazy neutral and indifferent to a situation. So, if you are in an argument and want him to pick a side, yeah, not happening. On one end, it is good he can see the right and wrong on both sides, but someone he is close to may feel hurt when he doesn't just side with them. This 4 of Cups just gives me I don't really care about this argument. I just want my peace, move on. Sunghoon makes me laugh sometimes, but I also understand this energy.

Sunoo (Gossip/Knight Swords)- Okay, so now Sunoo, he got some interesting cards. Both of these cards are very chatty and talkative cards, so we know he is this type of person. He likes to gossip. He likes the tea. He might be sharing a lot of information with others right now. He might be careful not to overshare or say something that can hurt others. This energy just gives me someone who will spill your tea and secrets right now. On a good side, I can see this as he can be someone who can defend others from gossip, or maybe even himself.

Jungwon (Trickster/The Sun)-Interesting combo here as well. I don't think I ever saw him with the trickster card before, this one surprises me with him. This is kind of a prankster card. This card represents someone who does things differently from what has been done before, or someone who finds different ways to navigate things in life. He is a happy go lucky person. A positive person. He is lovey dovey and childlike with this Sun energy. I also see this as someone who enjoys the attention and spotlight. He radiates light to others. The trickster card can be some manipulating energy there to, so he may be careful of that. Maybe it just means he manipulates what he puts out there or expresses to the public, which kind of makes sense. The Sun card also gives me someone who only shows their outer shell, but doesn't like to go too deep.

Ni-Ki (Thinker/The Magician)-I really like this combo of cards. He's got a strong imagination and a lot of creative ideas. This boy has a crazy number of ideas, like I see this with him a lot in my readings. It seems he is always in his head, figuring out ways to put his talents to good use. The Magician shows he is very talented and possesses many skills to create what he wants, and that he has the tools to do so. And he is very confident in what he can do. He may have the tendency to overthink things that can stall him from taking action, but I think in the end he makes it happen if he believes in himself to do so.

[taddymason]

Do you have any tips for those who want to write a fan season/Ninjago fanfic? I really like your story so far so I thought about asking for some tips on fanfiction since I never tried writing one and I really liked yours!

I don't consider myself very good at giving advice but I'll do my best, this may be taken more as a matter of "writing fanfiction in general" but I hope it helps with what I've learned from writing:

Use chapter outlines and learn to structure important events and scenes:

I can't stress how helpful this has been for me, but I always find it's best to have some sort of "plan" of what will happen in each chapter, what scenes need to happen, and be able to alter it if the story goes in another direction. It doesn't even have to be a very elaborate outline, but having a good summary of what you want to happen helps a lot to start drafting and plotting your story to get an idea of ​​where you want the characters to go. Once you have this mental map, you can allow yourself the freedom to make changes to the story if you feel it's necessary, it's the kind of thing you'll figure out as you write.

Also never get too attached to your ideas because you never know if the characters will develop differently or if the story works better another way. There will be times when you're writing, even if you had planned something to happen, it will feel like the characters have a life of their own and it just wouldn't make sense for them to do that. If something doesn't feel right to you, don't be afraid to change it. Your initial outline is never going to be the final result but it's always good to do it because I've found it helps to make writer's block easier and to avoid plot holes.

Choose wisely which scenes are necessary to show in the context of the story:

So this is more in context of whether you're following canon material, but you don't need to copy verbatim scene by scene, dialogue by dialogue, to get to the part you want to write. I personally feel that each scene should have a purpose, and readers have probably already seen the show, so you don't have to tell everything they've already seen as it happens in the show but rather adapt it to fit their story. Otherwise, it's usually tedious to write and boring to read. It may be a small thing, but it helped me a lot in writing LP and knowing when to ellipse, and knowing what dialogue was worth keeping for important scenes.

Especially in Ninjago because let's be honest, if you're writing a very serialized fic, there might be a scene in the episode that breaks that tension or maybe doesn't fit with the tone you had set. You don't have to keep it, you can make the story canon-consistent without needing to show everything. Sometimes, you can tell instead of show.

Don't be redundant:

There's no need to repeat the same thing over and over again in different words, especially in the same paragraph. There are exceptions of course, if it's something that depends on the character's perception, but in general it becomes annoying for the reader. It's better to be able to encapsulate an idea in one sentence than to have to tell it over and over again.

Don't be afraid to change your draft as many times as you want:

The draft will not be seen by anyone but yourself, and I say this because many times I have gotten stuck with a chapter because I am not enjoying what I am writing but I feel the need to write about such an event. My advice is: if you don't enjoy it, don't do it. Change the perspective, the way you would develop the scene, etc., whatever you think is necessary so that you feel that the story can flow better.

Hope this helps!

[sagesariadnd]

Unspoken writing advice

A piece of writing advice I've heard in the past is: when you're stuck, as yourself "what's the worst thing that could happen to this character/these characters at this moment?" and write that. And it is solid advice.

But its main strength is that it's a way to start conflict, which is how plot beats happen. And in that vein, I think there's an unspoken sibling to this advice that should also be considered, when figuring out how to resolve conflict: "What's the best thing that could happen at this moment?"

Obviously, you don't want to use this to resolve a conflict instantly, or to turn your story into everything going 100% right for your characters. But it can be a great exercise in tugging at the threads of your story and finding tangles and following the lines to see where they connect the most beautifully.

To give an example of this, I turn, as many people talking about good writing do, to Avatar: The Last Airbender. Spoiler alert as we talk about season 2 episode 8, The Chase.

In The Chase, the gaang have been harried by Azula and her team all night; they've been following the trail left by Appa as he's shedding his coat, and until they figured that part out the gaang has been on the run through the night, trying and failing to sleep multiple times. They're tired, stressed, and cranky. And on top of that, Toph is brand new to the party, and she and Katara have been butting heads, and Toph is particularly sensitive about carrying her own weight and proving she can take care of herself, a button that's been getting pushed all night. It all comes to a boiling point and after an outright shouting match, Toph has had enough and leaves.

Obviously, from a meta perspective, the story needs Toph; she's supposed to be Aang's earth bending teacher, and she's a powerful force and makes up the earth portion of the gaang's bending collection. So the writers have to figure out how to make her go back. What's it going to take to make that happen? How is she going to develop and learn that Katara wasn't trying to patronize her? Maybe someone could talk to her and put things into perspective. Who is the best person she could run into to have such a conversation? Hey, how about Uncle Iroh!

Iroh really is perfect in every way for Toph's problem. He's in the neighborhood, since he's been following Zuko, who's tracking Azula, so the meetup is possible at all. He's friendly and hospitable and loves meeting new people - and let's be real, he could probably use the company himself since Zuko ditched him. He's patient and tranquil, so if Toph reacts badly he's not going to escalate things to the point where it's useless arguing. He sees people as clearly as Toph feels her surroundings, so he knows that she's capable and validates her. And of course, he's a font of flowery wisdom and is always an advocate for family and comradery, so he can talk all day about how to be a good friend to the gaang. One short rest over tea and Toph will hear what she needs to hear, and then all the plot threads can converge; Zuko catches up with Azula in the middle of her fighting Aang, Iroh catches up to Zuko, Toph catches up with the gaang, and they're all together for that encounter with Azula. And as a bonus, now Toph and Iroh know each other so they can get in touch later when they need help!

Sorry kinda-not-sorry for the long ramble, I just love talking about character and story shit so much. But basically my point is; throwing obstacles in your characters' way is good and important, but it's just as important to sometimes give them a hand to help them over some hurdles. Sometimes after deciding what the worst thing is that could happen, you should consider what the best thing to happen next could be.

[fixyourwritinghabits]

Hello! Thank you for every advice you give here!

This might sound like a weird ask, but I don't know how to write the second(or more) draft. I've heard some advice about rewriting and not editing, but every time I try to write the second draft, I just end up copying the first one, with very few differences.

So my question is, what is your way of writing the second draft and if you have any advice on that? I know some things that work for some don't work for others, but I just can't seem to find the right way.

Oh, second drafts. Only the most difficult writing step after drafting, followed by the most difficult step of writing the third draft.

The good news is that almost no one pulls together their story on the second draft. If your first draft is putting down the bones of the story, the second is figuring out where to lay the connective tissue. Maybe you've got too many bones, maybe you don't have enough. Maybe some of your bones are too short, or too misshapen to work. The second draft is getting that story skeleton together, knowing full well you're gonna need to fix some of those bones first.

Get yourself a plan to put that skeleton together - make an outline. I swear I'm not the sworn enemy of pantsers that i sometimes seem to be (it's professional jealousy, I swear), but if you don't have an outline, now is the time to get one. If you do, go back and revise that first. You'll want to know what you want the story to become from the pile of bones you're working from.

Not enough bones - identify what you're missing. If you're like me, sometimes while drafting you write 'figure this shit out later' and then forget to do so. Thanks for nothing, Past Me. But chances are your story needs some added scenes, more character development, etc. Identifying those missing pieces and fleshing out your outline can help you tackle a second draft.

Too many bones - figure out what needs to be cut. Not every scene is going to be worth keeping no matter how attached to them you are. If you're on the fence about a scene, consider if it serves to move the plot forward, develops the characters, or establishes important worldbuilding. If the scene meanders plotlessly, repeats character beats instead of expanding on them, or seems to suck the oxygen out of the story, you may have to rethink or remove them.

These bones don't fit - figure out what scenes are lacking. Another thing I tend to do in first drafts is sell my scenes short. I just don't think of the best outcome, the most dramatic climax, or a great setting when I'm trying to figure out what happens. In going through your novel, think about each scene carefully. Should this argument take place in a deserted library, or would it be more emotional and dramatic on a crowded train? If the villain's plot seems small, how can you make him a greater threat?

Uuuh bro that's not a human bone - revising scenes that went off the rails. If you're gearing up for NaNoWriMo yet again, you might know the feeling of writing pages of bullshit to make that wordcount. It could be good bullshit! It could be really fun! But if it sticks out like a sore thumb in the story, it may be best to set aside to figure out what to make out of it later.

You're not going to get everything right in the second draft either, so don't over-stress in trying to get your story whipped into shape. But you will be better off after giving those bones a little polish and assembling them into what could conceivably pass for a decent skeleton, one that you won't mind sharing with others to see what other work it might need. Good luck!

[actuallyadhd]

As someone with adhd who is struggling and still recovering from a major burn/total collapse. How does one deal with failure when you know that this failure was still a massive improvement like I probably failed two of my classes but also the fact that I made it to class 80% of the time and only 20% of my dishes were left dirty long enough to turn into a science experiment as a win but that doesn’t matter to the rest of the world. I feel both like I’m improving and getting a better grip on things and also like an absolute failure who can and should be doing so much better. I don’t ant to improve I want to succeed but I’m stuck and don’t know how to like I’m drowning and don’t know how to ask for help because it feels like I shouldn’t.

Sent December 7, 2023

Okay, first of all, HOORAY FOR MAKING IT TO CLASS AND KEEPING YOUR DISHES CLEAN! Regardless of anything else, those are two huge achievements. I don't care what the rest of the world thinks, I care that you did something that huge for you.

I also completely understand feeling stuck, feeling like you're drowning, feeling like a failure, not feeling able to ask for help. I'm not great at dealing with it yet, but I can at least tell you what's been helping me a little bit.

Redefining "success". Society has all these expectations about what constitutes success and how people should achieve it. I do my best to dump that stuff when it comes up, because it's just not applicable to me. (This is not easy.)

Doing "the next right thing". Sometimes the only thing you can do is the thing that makes sense in the moment. That has to be okay. So when you're feeling stuck, think about the one thing you can do right then to help you get where you want to be.

Reaching out for help, or at least for advice. This is not easy, but if you can find somewhere to go for support (like here!) it will be really good. I recently posted about some personal stuff in a Discord server and found out that some of the others there have the same problems. I also posted about some different personal stuff on Reddit and have gotten some great suggestions for how to deal with them. Both places have offered support in different ways, and that's what I need sometimes.

Here are a few tips about redefining success.

Think about what you really want to achieve. Just you.

Think about what you actually need in order to do that. For example, if you want to be a published author, do you need a degree in creative writing? If not, what do you actually need?

Think about how you can get what you need and achieve your goal.

Success doesn't have to mean "perfect" any more than it has to mean "rich". When I was working in Early Intervention, we considered a skill mastered when the student was able to do it correctly 80% of the time. It sounds to me like you did that this year, even if it didn't result in passing grades.

When you don't get that 80%, look at where things broke down so you can try and keep that from happening next time. For example, did you struggle with completing assignments on time? Maybe you need to get extensions on the due date. Maybe you need to break an assignment down into smaller steps and give each step a deadline so you can get it done and turned in on time. I obviously don't know, but if you need help figuring that stuff out we can help if you give more details.

Followers, do you have any words of celebration or encouragement (or both!)? Please share!

-J

[sunglow-fae]

I'm curious, how did Somerild get together with Abigail and Cassandra? :3 Like, when and how did they all develop feelings for one another and how did they all start dating? 👀

Its a funny bc it’s suppose to be just sunmink (cassie and sommie) but after abigail appeared in the game i was in a call with my friends and went “if i met abi sooner i feel like i would’ve paired her with sommie instead” to which @as-thra @itsachillesbtch replied with “POLY! POLY! POLYYY!” n thats literally how it went

Moree under the cut

Somerild met cassandra in first year !! While everyone else regards her with distain, Somerild’s always the first one to jump in to greet her happily, never missed her daily hi cassie and bye cassie.

Cassie's unfiltered jabs and harsh words were seen as insulting or just plain mean (and sometimes it is!) but somie never took it personally, Anytime cassandra attempts to get a rise out of somer, she just consider the comments as genuine advice and that always short-circuited the blondes brain since she was expecting a fight or maybe another jab back.

“Your curls are hideously brushed out.”

“Really? It’s how it’s always been for me!”

“And you’re certainly used to it”

“You could help me! I’ve been trying to find some hair mousse but i’m not sure what type i should use”

“What, i’m not going to- you- oh fine.”

Cassandra finds Somies joyous attitude a bit concerning, finding the good in others is one of her best and worst quality but ultimately is what lead cassandra to softened around her and she does eventually fall for her.

They started officially dating around 5th year, though there wasn’t any heartfelt confession that happened but more of a moment of realization, just a regular sunday cuddling in cassies dorm.

They met Abigail around late third year? but she wasn’t fully introduced to their friend group yet till fourth year, so it was only daniel, aslan, somer, n cassie (also following in-game story, they r the only ones who knew about her lycanthrophy).

TRAFFIC LIGHT HAPPENED IN 7TH YEAR!

We made a silly headcanon that abi is not rlly the type to think about her feelings that much, it lies dormant most of the time and she's more focused on the platonic relationship she has with her pack :3 but it doesn't mean it's not there! so when sunmink get together she was so happy for them! But- then theres this odd feeling in her chest she couldn't rlly identify, until she realized what was happening and it hits her like a truck.

There hasn't been much on how sunmink knows abt their feelings for abi, bc of uni and my sanity hanging by a thread but look at the silly i made with astra

[tamelee]

As a beginner artist im only happy when people reupload and share my art. I don’t want to be arragont enough to think im like samdoesart or something and you’re not really on that level either no offense though your art is inspiring me a lot

Okay, I'll address this then... (Art-rant for anyone who cares;) 

... no offense taken. I'm very aware of my (skill)’level' in art and definitely feel a certain type of way about it ;-; .... but that aside, what is your argument here?

Is anyone who doesn't want their art reposted or uploaded on other accounts considered arrogant? Is there some kind of popularity threshold you need to cross before you can request something as simple as this? And if so, what's that threshold to you? I'm genuinely curious.

When does someone become "good" enough to have the right to say that their art is theirs and protect it from being stolen or decide where it gets shared? Who has any say in it, other than the artist or creator themselves? Isn't that extremely subjective to base it solely on that?

Hm. If you're a beginner artist, I'd like to offer some advice....

It's entirely up to you whether you read it, give it any thought, or find it valuable in any way. I'm no Sam, after all. But there are plenty of ways for others to support your art, engage with it, or share it even in their own accounts without taking anything away from the original creator, whether it's art/writing or any other type of creation. However, it's also perfectly fine if you personally don't care about it or if someone allows it only with proper credit because that's your decision as.. you know- the original creator.

You mentioned that you're happy when your art gets reuploaded as a form of "sharing." But do you know what makes me the happiest as an artist Nonee?

Do you know what really brightens my day? 🥹

...It's knowing what people are saying about my work because I can read it on my own posts that are on my own accounts. When I can respond and take it in fully. When I see people using tags that make me snort my drink or when I have to stifle a laugh to the point I’m choking because it's just SO funny! (I genuinely need to make a compilation!!) Sometimes, I get comments that are cursing me out in a playful manner, and it's often followed by an incoherent keyboard-smash. I end up making embarrassing alien-like noises because of it that makes me more grateful than ever to live alone. Other times, I bawl my eyes out because someone left a comment or tagged it with something that just hits differently. A while ago, I got an ask that said I should stop saying 'thank you' on everything because it got repetitive/annoying(?), but I genuinely feel so grateful for all of it 😭!!

I get new ideas because someone suggested something different. I see friends having entire conversations under a drawing that I'm not even a part of because apparently, what I drew resonated with them personally, or it made them feel a certain way, which is oddly fulfilling with art ;-; Just so you know, I read everything... and all this feedback (because it's all feedback in a way) can be very inspiring, don't you think?

Honestly, when it comes to activities like drawing, it's true that it is better to never do it solely for the sake of engagement. Drawing, or more specifically, living as an (aspiring) artist is incredibly lonely.

So, so lonely...

Relying on engagement alone to keep you creating for hours, days, years, or maybe even decades is just not sustainable. It takes an enormous amount of time and dedication to practice, come up with new ideas, and endure the inevitable frustrations that come with it. With anything, keeping yourself inspired at times takes effort also because it requires for you to be in a state of mind that allows new idea’s in the first place which in itself takes practice because you won’t always feel like drawing. You might even encounter nasty comments or discover that something you poured your heart into gets criticized, YOU as a person may even be criticized because what you drew with your current skills (and such a journey is never-ending) in a single moment could get paired with your entire personality or even your humanly morals (ffs) to judge. Which can be more hurtful than you'd expect... especially in the beginning.

Although it may sound silly, the saying "the fun is in the journey” is very real and likely the most important thing to keep you going as an artist. No matter what, you gotta have fun or find a way to have fun.

Yet, even so, now more than ever, the process of creating is very underappreciated as many are looking for “content” that's quickly generated for entertainment. Tsk, some even call art “content” which, IT IS NOT. It's a proven fact that we, as humans, currently have become dopamine junkies with short attention spans. (I totally understand this – I was diagnosed with ADD, hence my extreme hyper-fixations also 😆 it's both a blessing and a curse, tbh.) So, right now, the very thing that can support artists (which means you as a beginner also!) on their creative journey is letting them know you appreciate their art in any way or just let them know your thoughts maybe even by specifying what it was you liked about it so they can carry that into their next drawing.. which is only truly possible through your own accounts y’know? :’) I'm being sincere when I say this really can help. 

I get that many people believe that creating should be satisfying in itself, and everyone may expect you to think that way because, after all, you want people to see what you've made and a reposter ‘helps’ you with that, so, it should be enough and you should be happy and grateful actually. Anything beyond that might be considered "arrogant."

And... based on your ask, it seems like you might view having your art reuploaded as a form of 'help,' and if that's the case, it's totally fine. But I want to share a rather harsh reality, because even if those who repost your art provide credit...

They don’t do it for you and it’s not necessarily because they love your art so much 👀 rarely anyone cares to go through a description full with useless trend-based tags or promotive texts they always use only to put in the effort to find your name and most likely, if they follow such accounts there is zero connection with the original artist/creator which means it is WAY more likely in this case that the art you worked on for idk how long ends up becoming a forgettable blur as it is scrolled past 🤷🏻‍♀️

And even if the reposter likes your art personally, that's probably not their primary motivation to share it (except for a very few who are in it for a fandom, sns has a few also). Art that gets ‘selected’ for reposting is typically selected with a specific, often trend-oriented, goal that has little to do with the artist. It's frequently shared with the mindset of a rather poorly-driven marketer. Especially on platforms like IG- many of these accounts exist to benefit the account owner only by making high(er)-follower accounts that later get a different purpose. Many of these accounts will discard all art once it has reached an engagement goal to then move onto something new that's more financially profitable to the account owner, which original art by others is not. And yeah, a lot of these accounts are sold after. There are especially many now due to the IG affiliate program, and recently tiktok also. The same is quickly happening on X with its monetization... and guess what :’)!!! Although original art is hard to monetize, Ai is completely approved.... 🤨🙄 But I won't bore you with all the specifics any longer.

Me not wanting my art on other platforms/accounts, has little to do with credit nor do I think in the very least that I have some sort of control over it by making that decision... but still. I refuse to willingly take part in anything that currently takes ‘art’ (any creative form) and makes a mockery of it, using it for mere "content" or treats it as this ‘thing’ that appeared out of nowhere to then just use any way people like and participate in the narrative that gives the impression that investing time in creating something isn't valuable or a cherished part of human expression that brings and promotes joy. 

Because rarely do people take the damn time anymore.

I want all artists/writers/creators/etc- to be acknowledged for their work in general, or, even in the least, acknowledge the work that isn't seen that goes into the final result for others to enjoy. I don't want to continually see art stolen and exploited so rapidly. This phenomenon enables tech bros who don’t have a single ounce of argumentative skill or self-proclaimed "entrepreneurs" to generate their little stolen jpg’s for their absurd 3 a.m. morning-routine videos and use them as banners on their get-rich-quick schemes, scamming the unsuspecting and spamming the internet with this bs, largely thanks to AI making this partly possible... for example. There's not a single platform left that supports artists or helps them fight for security and protection for their work. I know and I'm aware. At the very least, we can say 'no' to reposting because giving up completely makes no room for possible solutions... and then we can work from where we are at all times to find ways to protect a right (because it is) that some might perceive as trivial. 

Nevertheless, it is a right, and it definitely isn't an issue of arrogance or skill.

[autisticrosewilson]

thoughts on tanya and her relationship with deathstroke and the family? also any hc's ? 👁️

I think her relationship differs from the others by virtue of her being an adult when she meets him, she's a not a starry eyed/traumatized teenager looking for a family. She's still after a support system though, a team to be on after she leaves the Titans, an older mentor to help her better herself. So it's not quite a father daughter relationship, but she does probably admire Slades skill and she is willing to be vulnerable with him.

That doesn't mean she'll take his shit though, she questions his orders routinely, she refuses to be demoted to a sidekick. Just because she's a student doesn't mean she's subservient, it's something that definitely caused friction in the early days of defiance where she strained against his leadership in a way he wasn't used to. A grown woman forcing him to see her as an equal while he trains her is very different from impulsive teenagers disobeying orders and he's not entirely sure how to deal with it at first.

But if there's one thing about Slade it's that the more someone fights him, the more fond he is. Once they've worked together for a while things settle down, they learn to read each other better and trust gets built up. I think that Slade would consider her one of his kids, but Tanya sees him as like, the uncle she lived with in college y'know. He's not exactly happy about it but it's not like he's in any position to push. Compared to his actual children he has a pretty good relationship with Tanya which really solidifies his idea that it's some family curse or genetic disposition for sucking as a parent as opposed to like, generational trauma he should do something about.

I think she has a complicated relationship with the family. She doesn't really consider herself a part of it the way the rest are, but she does see some of the Wilson kids as siblings because it's hard to be on a team with people, fighting together, living together, seeing fucked up shit together without getting close.

I think she gets along best with Joey, he grew up in a lot of the same social circles and he also understands a lot of the belittlement she gets.

It's because of her camaraderie with Joey that she's not really fond of Adeline, being someone who also grew up mostly relying on her mom the radioactive relationship between the Kane-Wilson's is something she doesn't want anything to do with. Suffice to say that while she respects Adeline as a business woman she will not be accompanying Joey to any family parties or reunions.

Following that she's got the kind of "older sisters that always competed growing up but are also closer to each other than either of you are with your younger siblings by virtue of being closest in age" relationship with Sunny you either get or you don't. Very specific but I think they are fond of each other even though they fight constantly. Most of the time they're not even trying to fight, Slade will tell them to quit bickering and they'll look at each other in bewilderment because they were having a normal conversation.

I don't think her and Rose are close, I feel like Tanya just relates more to other people in Rose's life just because of the age difference. To Tanya, Rose will always be "Joey's little sister" or "Dick's teammate". That doesn't mean that Tanya doesn't care about her though, they still know how to work together and I think Rose has maybe asked her for advice more than once. Whether it be on stupid socialite etiquette, how to shut Slade up or even grieving with the loss of her mom. It's like having a younger sister you don't live with, and you two were never the closest but sometimes you come home to her in your new apartment because she needs to complain about your dad and a candle she saw at the check out reminded her of you, so she brought a house warming gift even though you moved in two months ago.

Now the relationship between her and Poppy is complicated because of their relationships to Tara. On one hand she doesn't want to step on Tara's toes by taking over too much with Poppy, but she also doesn't want to leave either of them hanging since neither of them really have anyone besides Slade. On the other hand Tanya sometimes worries that Poppy is after more of a mother figure than another sister, and she doesn't feel ready for that. So it's a balancing act between being supportive enough to bond with her without getting close enough to intrude on Tara's role or give Poppy the wrong impression.

Her relationship with Tara has the aforementioned issue and... Tanya is kind of freaked out by her. Like everything about Tara and her relationships to Slade, Rose and Poppy just really makes her sad but she also doesn't want to involve herself in all that crazy. Also Tara has A Thing for Beast Boy (It's not a crush in my rewrite, more of a hero worship thing for the person who broke up the Dark Side Club) who Tanya considers her best friend and it's really weird for her to hear and talk about.

I don't really see her liking Grant if he were alive, she would think him working specifically to piss off Slade is funny until it coincides with her own jobs. Mostly that's yet another complicated inner family dynamic she doesn't want to get close to. She's mildly fascinated by him the way a child's fascinated by a bug under a microscope, she's really curious to find out what being Slade and Adeline's least favorite kid does to a person. Their civilian personas have fake Twitter beef (she thinks it's a joke but he's very serious about it) though.

She sent Slade a card with a condom inside saying "put the dick down" when she found out about Respawn. (She doesn't know he's Grant's clone yet.)