#Some of the ideas i spontaneously grinded

[noisyballofvoidmuffin]

Ok, so, we've all heard of the whole 'Ghost King Danny finds out about the Lazarus Pits and fixes/takes them away/wtv' thing by now, but, and hear me out, what if he* is the reason they exist in the first place instead?

So, this can go a few ways.

1. Closet juice - There was that prompt a while ago saying the Pits are like ghost alcohol, so what if the pits are Danny's version of when kids leave juice hidden away to ferment and make alcohol after learning about how wine is made and forgetting about them?

2. Portal boy - There's this headcanon that Danny is the reason the portal stabilised in the first place. Whether it is because it needed a sacrifice, or someone to assign as the portal spirit, or like one fic i read a while ago said where the portal was *his* and kind of somehow lived inside him?

So, this isn't Danny's fault per se, but what if when a Halfa is ended while their portal (natural one) is open, it created a rip in the fabric of reality leading to the place it was connecting to? In that case, when the commonly mentioned purge of Halfa's by Pariah (Blood King?) was done, it left all these rifts to slowly create pits?

You can chose a reason why, (probably Clockwork) but Danny could be going around trying to fix those rifts in one way or another.

3. Lock breaker - This is approaching crack levels, but what if because Danny isn't a normal ghost/not a Halfa created from a natural portal when he goes through natural portals he essentially leaves the hypothetical door ajar and the not-fully-closed-portals drip and create pits?

I would try to think of more, but it's late and here's your word vomit/lh, hope you enjoy

[your-local-simp-writers]

Puppy Love

Word Count: 1552

Warnings: None

Damian Wayne x Fem!Reader ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

It was a typical day after school, one of those rare moments when Damian Wayne wasn’t caught up in some sort of mission or training. The clock ticked loudly in the classroom as you stared at your class partner. Damian was sitting at his desk, meticulously packing up his things, his movements precise, as always. He had a habit of folding his papers just so, making sure everything was in perfect order before leaving. It was almost funny how much effort he put into something so mundane.

You tapped your pen on the desk, your mind bouncing with energy, as it always did. You had an idea, a crazy, spontaneous idea. The kind of idea you always had, but this time, you had to share it with him.

"Damian," you said brightly, leaning across the desk just enough to catch his attention. He glanced up, his dark eyes narrowing slightly as if preparing himself for whatever your next move was. You grinned, already knowing what he was thinking. “Do you want to go to the fair?”

His brow furrowed. “The fair?” he repeated, clearly skeptical. “I’m not sure how that could be beneficial to anything.”

You waved a hand, dismissing his doubts. “It’s just a bit of fun. You know, something different. Besides, you can’t always be training or brooding, right?”

Damian looked at you for a long moment, then sighed dramatically, an exaggerated gesture you’d gotten used to. “I don’t see the point in such... frivolity,” he said, though there was an edge of curiosity beneath the words.

You didn’t give him time to think about it. You knew he would overanalyze it otherwise. “Come on, just for a little while. You could use some downtime, and it’s not like Gotham doesn’t need a break from your endless seriousness. You’re my class partner, right? It’s just a few hours of normal fun. You’ve done worse, I promise.”

You could see the inner conflict playing out in his eyes—the part of him that was trained to be a warrior, never wasting a moment, battling with the part that was slowly learning to open up to new experiences. Finally, after a long pause, he nodded reluctantly. “Fine. I will accompany you to this... ‘fair,’” he said, his voice still laced with skepticism.

...

The fair was a short drive outside of Gotham, tucked away just beyond the noise and chaos of the city. You could tell the difference immediately, as soon as the car tires left the paved roads and hit the dirt paths leading to the fairgrounds. There was a certain charm to the place, something rustic and simple, so different from the bustling streets of Gotham or the towering Wayne mansion.

The sun was setting, casting a soft orange glow over the rows of booths, food carts, and brightly colored rides. The scent of hot dogs, popcorn, and cotton candy filled the air, and the sounds of laughter and music echoed around the fairground. It was the kind of place where people went to escape from the grind of daily life, to enjoy the fleeting moments of joy that came with a simple carnival game or a ride on the Ferris wheel.

You could see Damian’s unease as you both walked toward the entrance. His eyes darted around, taking in the overwhelming sights, sounds, and people. It wasn’t quite the same as the controlled environment he was used to. But you didn’t give him time to overthink it. You grabbed his arm, pulling him toward one of the booths.

“You’re going to love the ring toss,” you said with a grin, all too eager to get him involved.

“Ring toss?” he repeated, the skepticism still clear in his voice. “What purpose does this serve?”

“It’s fun,” you insisted, though you knew he wasn’t convinced. Still, you managed to drag him over to the booth. The game was simple enough—throw rings over bottles. It was a childish game, but you loved it, and you hoped Damian would catch on to the idea of letting go, even if just for a moment.

He stood with his arms crossed, watching you carefully. "You really think I can waste my time on this?"

You gave him a sidelong glance and a teasing smile. "Well, it’s not about wasting time. It’s about... I don’t know, enjoying the moment."

He didn’t look at you, but he did take a few rings and line them up, aiming carefully. You grinned to yourself. Even when he was trying to act all serious, his precision couldn’t be denied.

With a flick of his wrist, one of the rings flew through the air, landing perfectly on a bottle. You raised your eyebrows, impressed.

“Nice,” you said. “You’re better at this than you let on.”

Damian didn’t respond, his eyes narrowing as he picked up another ring. “I don’t do things halfheartedly,” he muttered, almost to himself. “If I’m going to do something, I do it properly.”

You watched him, a strange warmth spreading in your chest. The boy was so driven, so serious, yet you couldn’t help but admire his determination. It was rare for him to let his guard down, and even rarer for him to admit that something could be fun.

Soon enough, you had won a small stuffed bear, and Damian had reluctantly agreed to take it from you. You held it to your chest, practically skipping to the next attraction.

“What now?” he asked, clearly still unsure.

"Let’s ride the Ferris wheel," you said, already making your way toward the line.

He didn’t protest, which surprised you. Damian was a creature of habit and control. He liked to know what was coming next, not to be thrown into something unfamiliar. But here he was, following you as you led him toward the towering wheel. It was slow-moving and simple, but you could tell the height of the ride was making him a little uneasy.

Once you were both in your seat, the Ferris wheel creaked to life. The world below you began to shrink, the lights of the fair twinkling in the distance, and the sky above grew dark as the stars started to emerge, one by one. You glanced over at Damian, who was staring out at the lights, his face unreadable.

“You know, it’s nice up here,” you said softly, breaking the silence. “Don’t you ever just sit outside and stare at the stars? It’s so peaceful.”

Damian turned his head toward you, his expression stiff. “I prefer to watch... other things,” he said, his tone flat, almost as though he hadn’t really considered the question. “While I’m at it, I watch the bumper-to-bumper traffic and listen to the sounds of car horns and sirens.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head at his dry sarcasm. “That is exactly why I like to be in the middle of nowhere. No traffic, no sirens, no deadlines. Just peace.”

Damian looked at you, the barest hint of amusement flickering across his face. “Peace,” he echoed, then gave a short huff. “I don’t know that I would describe Gotham as anything remotely peaceful.”

“Well, I’ll take peaceful over chaotic any day,” you said, your eyes drifting back to the sky, the colors of the fireworks beginning to light up the air. You handed him a stick of cotton candy, offering it with a teasing grin. “Besides, I think you could use a little fun, Damian. Maybe the world won’t end if you just enjoy the moment.”

He hesitated, eyeing the fluffy treat in your hand before taking a cautious bite. His eyes flickered back to you, his voice quieter this time. “Fun. I’m not sure I remember what that feels like.”

You blinked, surprised at the admission. For a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. You were so used to seeing Damian with his walls up, his rigid control always in place, that hearing him admit something so vulnerable took you off guard.

“Well, maybe now’s a good time to start remembering,” you said, your voice soft. “There’s a lot more to life than training and working.”

Damian didn’t answer, but he didn’t pull away either. Instead, he continued to chew his cotton candy in silence, staring out at the fireworks. You could tell, even without the words, that he was beginning to relax, if only for a moment.

The rest of the ride passed in a comfortable silence, the fireworks exploding around you in bursts of color. It was a strange thing, this peacefulness, and you couldn’t help but smile as you watched Damian begin to melt into the experience. For once, he wasn’t the brooding, serious heir to Wayne Enterprises. For once, he was just a boy—your class partner, Damian—enjoying the simple joy of a fair.

As the ride finally came to a stop and you both made your way back to solid ground, you felt a strange warmth between you both, something unspoken but real. You hadn’t just taken him to a fair—you’d taken him to a moment where he could simply be Damian, and for the first time, he seemed to appreciate it.

“Not so bad, huh?” you teased as you walked side by side.

Damian glanced at you, the slightest smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Perhaps... just this once.”

[writethrough]

I Know Better

(Billy Hargrove x Female Reader)

Synopsis: You've heard every rumor about Billy Hargrove—from the girls, the guys, the teachers, the parents—it never interested you all that much. Until one of those pesky rumors involved you.

Warnings: Language, slut-shaming

Word Count: 1396

A/N: This is the first stop on the apology tour for everyone who's sent me in a request. It's been a year for some of you, and I'm so sorry and grateful for your patience.

I had a really hard time starting this in the sense that I had so many ideas, but none of them fit with this prompt. So, it took me a while to settle on the story I wanted to tell. I had to stop thinking about this as a “Billy is mean to everyone” fic, and start considering it a “You are Billy’s soft spot” fic. It had to be a “How is he different because of you?” And then it sort of clicked.  

This is a sort of soft-launch to a larger something. I'm not sure if it will turn into a full multi-part fic or just spontaneous additions in this little fanfic universe.

And to the anon who requested this, Tumblr ate your request when I tried saving it to my drafts, so I really, really hope you come across it.

I hope you enjoy!

Anon Request: “Another Billy request idea is “he’s mean as fuck to everyone but me

"Like??? Maybe I need to go to therapy but the hard as stone exterior on that boy and the thought of him being sweet as pie to his girl makes me mush” 

Moodboard by @saradika

Billy Hargrove never scared you. 

Not even in high school when all you heard about was his bark and bite and overall terrible attitude. 

You didn’t cross paths often, surprisingly so with how small Hawkins was, but sometimes you’d get glimpses of him against his locker or waiting by his car. 

You still remembered the time he pulled in beside you as you were shutting your door. 

Max had waved at you before rushing off to the middle school. Then, Billy had slowly risen, lighting a cigarette in the process, and locked eyes with you. 

He greeted you by name, a lazy smile spreading across his lips, and sauntered away. 

You had replayed that morning for the next two weeks, stunned that he knew your name let alone gave you the time of day. 

It was a month or two afterward when you actually witnessed Billy at his worst. 

You weren’t there for the start, but you had turned a corner in the halls and were met with other students gawking at a fight. 

You shoved your way between teenagers, intent to get to your class before the bell rang when that mullet stopped you. 

Billy had been looming over Roger, the school’s very own sleazy douchebag. 

In your mind, whatever that prick had said or done, he absolutely deserved the consequences Billy was doling out. 

You were about to continue walking when Billy leaned in closer to him with a tilt of his head. And until that point, you didn’t know that gesture could be so menacing. 

“Wanna say that again?” 

Your brows pulled in confusion. 

What could Roger have said that made Billy so furious? 

It must have been some insult, something that cut right to whatever insecurities Billy hid from the world. You really couldn’t imagine what he’d be self-conscious about. To you, Billy was the epitome of confidence. 

Billy’s eyes caught your shoes, and you swore his shoulders tensed. He trailed up your body and met your gaze, grinding his teeth. 

He slowly straightened, and without another word, stormed out of the building. 

Mrs. Click finally arrived and disbanded everyone and helped Roger to the nurse’s office. 

Your last class was full of whispered theories and passing notes. 

I heard he keyed Billy’s car. 

No, Billy definitely slept with the chick Roger was eyeing up. 

Could’ve sworn I heard Roger call some girl a slut-in-the-making. 

The day couldn’t have been over soon enough. 

At least it was the weekend, and in a month, you’d be graduating. 

You were walking to your car, sun in your eyes, and didn’t see Billy leaning against it until you were too close to pretend you forgot something to head back inside. 

“Hey,” he said, putting out his cigarette. 

“Hi,” you said slowly, gripping your backpack strap. 

“You okay?” His hands slipped in his pockets. 

Your furrowed your brow. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” 

He chuckled. “Fair enough.” 

He pushed off your car and took a few steps toward you. 

It was really the first chance you had to take in how blue his eyes were. And while normally you’d look away as you held each other's gaze, something planted you where you stood. 

He had the barest of smirks, so slight that you’d dare call it a smile. 

“If I said I wasn’t alright, would you agree to hang out tomorrow?” he asked. 

You let out a surprised laugh and glanced down. This was the first conversation you’d ever had with Billy, and he was asking you out. 

This was probably how he operated. He’d set his sights on some girl, give them that eat-you-alive smirk, and you’d wake up alone Sunday morning without even a note saying “bye.” 

But even with all that, your curiosity won out. So you made a deal. 

“Tell me what that was all about, and I’ll be there.” 

There was a flash of anger, but you didn’t think it was toward you. Leftover feelings for whatever happened no doubt. Then, he softened in a way you had never seen before. 

“I’ll pick you up at six,” he said, beginning to walk away. He turned around before he could get too far. “Don’t bring a jacket.” 

“Why?” You couldn’t help your smile. 

“You’ll have mine.” 

The cocky grin would’ve been irritating with anyone else, but Billy’s was endearing. 

You drove home with a stupid smile plastered on your face, and you stayed that way until Billy rapped on your door. 

— 

That Saturday night, he tried to breeze past his altercation. Until you leveled him with a sincere look and said his name. 

He had leaned back in the booth, ripping his remaining fries in pieces to distract himself. 

“He pissed me off,” Billy said, still maintaining his gruffness. 

“I figured as much,” you said gently. You knew if he sensed anything else, you wouldn’t get any answers. 

He huffed, glancing at you before returning to his basket of food. 

“The prick said somethin’ he shouldn’t have.” He shrugged. “I told him as much.” 

You nodded slowly, narrowing your eyes in thought. Billy wasn’t know to beat around the bush. He said what he thought, and you kind of admired that about him. Even if that got him in trouble. But the way he wasn’t maintaining eye contact when that was his favorite way to throw someone off guard was suspicious. He was hiding something, of course, but it felt more than hiding something from you alone. 

You took a shot in the dark. 

“Are you…Are you not telling me what he said because it was about me?” 

His jaw clenched and hands stopped. 

So, that was it. Roger had said something nasty about you, and for whatever reason, Billy took it upon himself to…defend your honor? 

But why? 

And what could it have been to make Billy react like that? You hardly knew each other. 

You inhaled deeply. “Okay. Tell me what he said.” 

“You don’t need to hear his bullshit.” He met your gaze, steady and stern. You wanted to slap your chest to keep your heart from skipping. 

“Billy,” you started, “I promise whatever he said isn’t going to affect me. I just want to know why you had him on the ground.” 

At this point, you had dissociated from high school and the people in it. All that mattered was graduation. 

“What does it matter?” His tone came out more harsh than you anticipated, but the way his face pinched told you he didn’t mean for it to happen. 

You leaned on the table. “Because I’ve had a really nice time so far. And as much as I appreciate you standing up for me. If you wanna continue this,” you gestured between you both, “you can’t beat the shit outta people.” 

“You wanna go out again?” His eyebrows rose slightly, and your cheeks warmed. 

Of course, that was what he took away. 

“Billy,” you warned playfully. 

“Alright,” he sighed. “He caught me starin’ at you a few times. Said your legs were locked shut, but I could probably get them open.” 

You scrunched up your nose. You knew Roger had to have said something vulgar, but you were more surprised it was about you then the actual content. 

“Okay. Was that all?” Sure, it was gross, but that didn’t seem like something Billy would lose his shit over. 

“That happened last week,” he admitted. “Told him to shut the hell up, and I thought that was that.” He shifted in his seat. “Guess he saw you lookin’ at me and he started callin’ you names. And then I hit’im.” 

Names.  

You could hazard a guess what names he called you. Probably the same ones he called every other female who didn’t wanna sleep with him. Ones that would describe him more than you. 

You reached across the table and grabbed his wrist. 

“Thank you for telling me,” you said. “And I need you to know, I don’t give a single fuck what that dipshit thinks.” 

He chuckled, putting his hand on top of yours. 

“So, that mean a second date is in the books?” he asked. 

“Like I said, only if you don’t punch someone when they say something you don’t like,” you said, hoping your face conveyed how serious you were. 

He leaned his elbows on the table. 

“I was thinkin’ a movie for next time.” 

Taglist: @bookshelf-dust, @steph-speaks, @nix-rose, @ballerina-orchid, @realmermaidariel

If you’d like to be added to any taglists, please comment or message me with the character you’d like updates on. 

[marvelstoriesepic]

Casual Sweetness

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky x reader

Summary: You seek out your roommate and best friend Bucky for comfort after a girls night out leaves you shaken up.

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: slight mentions of handsy strangers at a bar (nothing graphic); so much comfort

Author’s note: I don’t know where this came from. I started writing it, then finished it and now it’s existing and I’m putting it out there.

Masterlist

Never once has a night out with your girls left you this unsatisfied. Or, shaken, really. Every pre-planned rendezvous or spontaneous meet-up at a local bar with Wanda and Nat had always been a reliable escape from the daily grind.

You three like to cozy up at home, preferably at Wanda’s, and binge-watch a worthy series. And while that held its certain appeal, every once in a while you would find yourselves dancing and drinking, surrounded by people who wouldn’t remember enough of you, if the amount of liquor drove you to making decisions that sober you wouldn’t have even thought of. It has always provided an outlet for stress and helped you recharge.

Not tonight though. The strangers in the new bar you girls tried out tonight were far too handsy, your head started pounding uncomfortably even before taking the first sip and thinking about the bartender only makes dread pooling in your gut.

You also weren’t able to distract your mind, or rather your heart.

Usually, you would think about getting an Uber to meet up with your friends but Bucky always insisted on driving you when he wasn’t busy. But really, he never seemed to be, anyway. Not when it meant you would have to leave the apartment on your own. Nothing had his priority other than chauffeuring you around. You never asked him to do that, he just had a habit of insisting and there was nothing you could do. He had told you as much.

And tonight was no exception. He had sprung up from the couch, movie already paused, and keys in hand when you had emerged from the bathroom and practically ushered you into his car to drive you to the bar you girls had agreed on meeting at.

“Just don’t like the idea of you sittin’ in the backseat of some car, looking all pretty and dressed up with some guy in the front, thinking god knows what. Not takin’ any chances, doll, let me drive you.”

You always roll your eyes and scoff at his exaggerated concern, reminding him that it was said guy’s job to drive you to your wanted destination. You usually ignore the rest of his words. A simple shirt and jeans would hardly qualify as ‘dressed up’ for you and the idea of you being ‘pretty’ was something you would usually laugh at.

But it was hard to laugh at that when it came out of Bucky’s mouth. Your roommate. Your friend. Maybe even your best friend. But that’s where it stopped because nothing more ever happened. And you doubted it would.

So you let his words slide and let them wash over you because if you would address them, you would start thinking. And think, you do not want to. Because thinking only leads to foolish hope. A hopeless belief, that perhaps Bucky feels what you feel and suppresses it the same way you are. A ridiculous belief that he has the same overwhelming feelings about a friend that goes way beyond what friends normally feel for each other.

So you never let yourself think too hard, shoving those feelings into a box at the very back of your mind and swallowing down the key with the hard liquor when you went out for some drinks. It always burns on its way down. Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s that lingering ache. It really is not clear to you, but it does offer you a sense of reprieve, if only temporarily.

With every hungover the next day, follows the inevitable onslaught of that knot inside your chest and that rusty key resurfaces, reopening the box and unleashing a fresh wave of longing.

It only worsens in the way he would take care of you.

Every glass of water, each soft touch, each softly whispered inquiry is a gentle prod to the already gaping wound that was caused by the feelings of unrequited love.

The pancakes he would bring to your bed - because you were too grumpy to leave it - never satisfies the nourishment your soul craves. The pain relievers he would put on your nightstand, already there when you’d get back, would only serve as a cruel reminder that nothing could relieve the ache inside your chest.

With every “You feelin’ better, doll?” and “There anythin’ else I can do for you, sweetheart?” the ache deepens, spreading like wildfire through your veins, reaching your bones and searing through them like branding irons with the intention to leave marks that you believe to be permanent.

The hangover eventually leaves your body, but your heart festered.

However, the ache is not always the dominant emotion in Bucky’s presence. It isn’t always the first thing you acknowledge. First and foremost, being in Bucky’s proximity elicits a profound sense of comfort and warmth.

It let the butterflies in your stomach flutter uncontrollably with every belly laugh he let out unabashedly, tipping his head back and squeezing his eyes shut, crinkles forming at their corners.

Your heart does unwanted flips at every pet name Bucky lets casually slip passed his lips, seeming so nonchalant about calling you doll and sweetheart but to you it means everything.

Every tender gesture leaves you breathless. You had been living with him for nearly a year now and you had come to acknowledge how sharing a space with him had become a delicate balancing act between euphoria and agony.

Bucky would bring you a hot water bottle at times when your cramps got too bad, or simply when you experienced menstrual discomfort, trying to soothe you with sweets he extra went out for.

He would jokingly chastise you to fold your clothes before storing them in the closet to prevent them from wrinkling and tease you when you didn’t. But it always ended with him taking matters into his own hands and carefully folding your clothes while you watched him from your bed, making fun of him when he turned red attending to your undergarments, despite trying to remain indifferent.

He would cook with and for you, make you coffee in the mornings, distract you with terrible jokes when you had a bad day, and leave you to it when all you needed was some me-time, only checking in when he needed to be sure you were okay.

His casual sweetness was a constant assault on your composure.

But right now, as you klick the door to your shared apartment shut and slip out of your shoes with a heavy sigh, it is all you can think of. His gentle touch, the sparkling blue of his eyes, the cheerfulness of his smile that makes your insides do somersaults.

It is still early. Earlier than you had ever been home after a night out and you’re sure Bucky is still awake. The lights in the living room are out which means he is in his room, perhaps engrossed in his laptop, reading a book, or idly scrolling through his phone.

Yet, you hesitate, staying rooted to the spot in the hallway. It was nothing unusual for you to knock on Bucky’s door, sometimes simply barging in if you felt particularly bold or just wanted to annoy him. But you had never sought him out before simply because you needed him. Needed his comfort, his reassuring whispers, the warmth that radiates off him and seeps into your skin.

So to buy some time, you retreat to the bathroom; emptying the contents of your bladder, splashing water on your face, and brushing your teeth.

There is only so much time you can stall, and soon enough you find yourself standing in front of Bucky’s bedroom door, clothes discarded and changed for more comfortable sleepwear. There is no noise filtering through the wall of his room but the soft glow seeping beneath the door offers a glimmer of hope.

You try to soothe the shakiness of your hands and rub them along the fabric of your shirt before lifting one hand to knock on his door. The sound is softer than intended, but Bucky’s gentle ‘come in’ was immediate.

Opening the door slowly you find him leaning against the headboard of his bed, dark sheets loosely draped around his waist. His grey shirt makes him look cozy and in his lap lay a book. One you had recommended him to read.

Your body reacts in an instant, shoulders dropping ever so slightly and a breath leaves your lips at the comfort he already provides.

“You’re back early,” he starts when you keep standing at the door unmoving, “didn’t expect you home til’ midnight at least.”

The familiar cadence of his tone provides you the sense of stability you had needed to let go of his doorknob, however, the teasing in his voice wasn’t lost on you. He seems to have expected you to tumble through the door at an ungodly hour, dropping in your bed and waking the next morning with a hangover worse than the last time.

You assume the bottle of water and the painkillers already found their place on your nightstand.

A huffed laugh leaves your lips but your expression remains unchanged as you shift awkwardly in his doorway. “Uh, yeah, we decided to leave earlier. Weren’t really feeling it, I guess.” You shrug, attempting to sound nonchalant, but Bucky’s brow begins to furrow softly and he shuts his book, placing it on his nightstand without taking his eyes off you.

“You alright, doll?” His voice was devoid of the teasing tone he had held moments before, “did something happen?” His eyes are intense, scanning your face and you break eye contact, letting your gaze wander across his room as if you see it for the first time.

You take a deep breath, hands twisting nervously and your heart picks up in pace. “I, uhm…It’s-” You stumble over your words, a shaky breath escaping your mouth instead of a coherent answer.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Bucky shift on his bed, straightening as if preparing to come closer to you but your next words halt him in his movements.

“Can I maybe stay with you? Tonight?”

It comes out more pleading and quieter than wanted but you don’t care about that right now. Not with the way Bucky looks at you. He is halfway out of the bed already, sheets thrown back onto the mattress but he still doesn’t take his eyes off you.

“Course you can stay, doll! Of course you can.”

Bucky’s voice holds a reassuring firmness, while he still talks softly. Your teeth clamp down on your lower lip, watching him cross the room to you and placing his hands gently on your upper arms to take a better look at you. His eyes move between yours, brows deepening, concern etching itself into every line of his face.

“You wanna tell me what happened? Somebody make you uncomfortable?” There is something in his tone you can’t concentrate on, only shaking your head at his questions.

“I don’t- Can we not-” Your words were cut short by the gentle touch of Bucky’s hand on your face. His thumb begins to steadily swipe over your cheekbones so tenderly, a shiver rushes down your spine. He had never touched you like this before and you are trying your very best not to let your eyes droop and melt into him.

“We don’t have to talk about this right now, doll, I just-” So many emotions are swirling in the depth of his blues, his worry still the most outstanding. “Just wanna make sure you’re okay,” he whispers. “Is there anything you need? Anything I can do?”

His thumb doesn’t ease the motions over your skin and it is that you realize your hands stopped shaking and your heartbeat fell back in place without conscious effort. He has done so much for you already, without knowing it.

A deep, audible sigh escapes your lips and you offer him your first genuine smile of the night. “Just wanna stay here with you,” you whisper, your gaze locked onto his and if the world stopped moving for a second you would be none the wiser.

The comforting circles of his thumb paused and you feel that damned rusty key turning in the deadbolt of the lock to the box of your feelings, opening them with a screech and letting the contents spill out, open for him to see. And there comes the hope again. The belief that the depths of his eyes reflect the very same emotions you have plastered on your face.

But how can you not believe it when his expression holds something that looks to you a lot like love. A love, an affection, that, as you’ve established goes way beyond friendship.

Warm lips brush against your forehead and you let your eyes close for a second, savoring the feel of them. Gentle hands guide you towards his bed and you move like putty, allowing yourself to be enveloped in the soft sheets, full of his scent.

Bucky crawls in beside you, laying his body to face yours and you can’t help but study the way the soft glow of the moon that seeps through the curtains, reflect on the planes of his face, after he shut off the little lamp on his bedside table.

“Thank you, Bucky!” you whisper, the sound almost getting lost in the sheets, but he hears you, a soft smile forming on his lips, the moon allowing you to see it.

“Not for this, sweetheart. Never for this,” he whispers back and you let your eyes fall shut with a content sigh.

Right before sleep can claim you, you feel the comforting weight of his hand, covering your own over the sheets and silently linking with your fingers.

“I’ve found a natural drug for all of my panic, anxiety, and anger. It’s his voice. It’s him.”

- J.R. Rogue

[skylinesnsunshines]

pac: july messages -`♡´-

hi everyone! welcome to my first pac <3 today i will be channeling messages on your energy for july. please remember that this is all for entertainment purposes only and energies are subject to change, so if it doesn't resonate then it might not be the pile or reading for you. also remember that this is a general reading, so I'm channelling the energy of the collective rather than a specific individual. if you're after a personal reading click here to look at my prices and message me for details. without further ado! let's get started.

photo credits go to pinterest, i don't own any of these photos

pile 1 ~ knight of wands, 6 of wands rx, justice, hanged man rx

hello my pile 1's! i feel such a light energy for you all. immediately i channelled that you've successfully overcome a situation that has caused you anguish. it could have been a major situation/change for you, but you could feel like there are other things to worry about so you brush it off. spirit wants me to remind you to celebrate the small wins, and enjoy a victory while you can. life will always bring you unexpected events that can alter your focus, so staying in the present and reminding yourself to give yourself a pat on the back is necessary (you've come so far!). now, i feel like you have a lot of ideas and visions but you don't necessarily know the steps to achieve them. you might not enjoy planning due to you being easily overwhelmed, and you can even be a person who enjoys "winging it" as i'm hearing the phrase "fuck it we ball" LMAO. now your spontaneity and creativity are definitely something to be proud of, however, spirit's telling me to encourage you to break down your ideas and have them be more digestible so you can plan accordingly. i see that you have all the tools for success within yourself, but you need to be a bit more calculated in your journey to avoid burnout. remember to invite balance in your daily life, and remember that rest is as important as movement. you might feel frustration towards plans that don't come to fruition, but just remember that everything that is meant for you won't ever pass you. time is a construct and every person's timing is different, so please stop comparing yourself to others. learn to let your emotions flow and listen to your body, as i feel that some of you may have a tendency to pick yourself up and brush it off when met with failure. while your resilience is commendable, remember that you are not a robot and you are always allowed to sit in your sorrows and mourn. you are such a light in this world my pile 1's, and your resilience often inspires others to continue going on in life as well. remember that every experience is a learning lesson, and not everything is so black/white. you got this my superstars! remember who you are and the power you hold <3

channelled song: i feel good - pink sweat$

oracle cards: bridge - successfully overcoming a problem, knot - unsuccessful plans, unicorn - using your intuition to make beneficial changes

pile 2 ~ queen of swords, 8 of pentacles, page of cups rx, death

hello my pile 2's! you seem to be focusing on your grind and have a goal that you are working toward to complete by the end of the year. i just wanna say that you may be experiencing a change emerging within yourself, whether that'd be physical or mental. your aura seems to be changing and that stems from how you present and carry yourself. i hear the word "tunnel vision" which tells me that you are zoning in on a certain skill that will bring you a lot of emotional fulfilment. i can also see that some of you may be focusing on improving your confidence which will help you realise your worth and be more cutthroat of your time and energy. you are taking back your power and realising that you are the architect of your own life, and no one can take that away from you. you are the go-getters, trailblazers and leaders who are always learning and bettering yourself which is so amazing to see. just know that the more you work on yourself and understand your soul, you will automatically attract others who will be able to reciprocate your energy and have the same motivation for growth as you. love could be on the cards as well, but i don't see anything major as i feel like you want to fall in love with yourself first. i feel a sense of priority when it comes to your well-being, and that anyone who would want to be a part of your life needs to be an addition as you are already whole. not everybody is worth your time my pile 2's, and saving your energy for those who you prioritise is what matters the most <3

channelled song: aura - got7

oracle cards: target - a goal-oriented person, vase - secret admirer, horse - a short journey

pile 3 ~ page of wands, 3 of cups, 7 of wands rx, 8 of cups rx

hello pile 3's! before i even pulled the cards, i envisioned that this upcoming month may be one of celebration for you! i see some of you graduating or entering a new job or school that will aid in your growth (congratulations angels!). i feel like july could be a social month for you, i see that you could be entering a new environment that could bring you into a new friend group. i feel like you are embarking on a journey (wether that'd be physical or mental), and you are feeling unprepared yet excited. i see an image of someone carrying a bindle (?) and having a bittersweet feeling of moving on. some of you might have been reluctant to move on from a place or a person, but in your heart, you know that it's right for you. you are ready for this and you are prepared! don't sweat the small stuff. in the song i channelled a lyric that goes "just a little something that i think i deserve" and i feel that it could resonate with some of you. remember that you are deserving of great things and you are allowed to seek other experiences if you feel that your current circumstances do not aid you in your growth. in your new environment, you might encounter people who don't see eye to eye with you, and that's okay as spirit encourages you to stay true to yourself and not change for anyone. you've got a strong sense of self and you know yourself better than anyone, so don't feel the need to conform to "fit in" as you will attract someone like-minded that you will get along with. your energy is infectious, and you are destined to seek experiences that encourage you from breaking free of being a big fish in a small pond. i'm excited for you my pile 3's! you got this <3

channelled song: cake and candy - rupaul

oracle cards: bull - do not back down from opposition. show strength and fortitude, horse - short journey, chair filled - someone new is entering your life

so that’s it for the reading! let me know if you have any feedback, questions or requests! my askbox is always open for a chat as well <3 sending you love and light always :) hope you enjoyed!

[bifuriouswaterbender]

While I missed October, I had fun with this month's prompt from @steddiemicrofic guard for 532 words. Rated E.

Growing up had been good, even if it came with some changes.

They didn't have the same level of surprise as their early days had been full of. Steve personally didn't think that was a problem. He still had Eddie's zany personality to love every day. What difference did it make if they weren't as spontaneous in the bedroom?

Steve figured it was probably a symptom of growing older. No matter what twenty-three-year-old Eddie had proclaimed, they couldn't stay young forever.

Still, it was fun sometimes to act like they had in their youth.

Steve figured tonight was the perfect night to act that way.

He could hear Eddie puttering around in the bathroom as he stretched out across the bed. The comfy flannels he'd been wearing to bed lately lay discarded and ignored on the floor. He'd been halfway through putting them on when this idea had hit, but picking them up and putting them away seemed unnecessary as he waited, ears straining for a clue Eddie was almost done.

His mouth ran slightly dry at the sound of Eddie spitting, never mind that Steve knew he was brushing his teeth.

The water turned off, and Steve took a deep breath.

Eddie's slippers shuffled as he puttered toward the bedroom.

Maybe he couldn't hold a pose as long as he used to, but Steve still took the moment to arch his back off the bed and strike a pretty picture, arms hanging limp above his head.

He flicked his eyes toward the door just as Eddie walked into the room.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

"Jesus Christ, Steve," Eddie moaned, clutching his hair. "I've already got my mouth guard in."

Steve hadn't thought about that. "Take it out. Hard to grind your teeth if your mouth is full."

Eddie eyed Steve's cock, all but jumping as it twitched. "Yeah, okay."

Steve let his head roll back, eyes closing. For a moment, he just waited.

Then Eddie walked out of the room.

Steve jerked his head up, leaning on an elbow as he stared toward the empty doorway in disbelief. "Eddie? Where are you going?"

"I have to put it away!"

Steve flopped down onto the bed with a sigh. Curse his partner for being more responsible than he used to be. Usually that was a trait he appreciated, but right this moment, Steve wouldn't have cared in Eddie had thrown his mouth guard to a corner of the room. They could have dealt with finding and disinfecting it later.

Finally Eddie appeared again. "Now then," he declared, "where were we?" His wicked smile gleamed bright, full of teeth and the tip of his tongue.

"I think I said something about your mouth being full?" Steve said as he closed his eyes and stretched out again.

He could hear Eddie stalk toward the bed and felt the dip of a body next to his.

Steve moaned as Eddie's fingers wrapped around him, sure and confident in what Steve liked after all these years.

"Just one problem here, baby."

Steve scowled as he opened his eyes again. "What now?"

Eddie's smile turned sheepish. "I mean… I did already brush my teeth."

[nausikaaa]

2024 Roundup

hello! it's that hazy period between christmas and new years, so i didn't even know what day it was until i got tagged for SSS by @that-disabled-princess. i don't have anything to share presently, but Rose, @run-for-chamo-miles @forabeatofadrum and @confused-bi-queer also tagged me for a writing roundup, so here i am!

i wrote 8 fics in 2024, and as i looked through them i realised i wrote literally all of them for events or as gifts. i also worked a lot on an original wip, and started another! however this still leaves the months pretty spotty, so i decided to add in some other achievements hehe.

this is long, but i added photos!

January

i started writing a fantasy novel i have been rotating in my brain for literally years, featuring beloved OCs i've also had for years. it got to 7k words by the end of the month. however i was also attacked by a new novel idea.

books read: Percy Jackson- The Chalice Of The Gods by Rick Riordan, Atalanta by Jennifer Saint, All The Violet Tiaras by Jean Menzies.

February

this is the month where i really knuckled down and got to grinding on my greek myth retelling. i sat in a wetherspoons for an entire day, edited everything i had so far, and wrote until i finished part 2 of 7 (the parts aren't equal lengths) i ended up with 37k words.

books read: The House With The Golden Door by Elodie Harper, Emperor Of Rome by Mary Beard, American Hippo by Sarah Gailey.

March

no writing in March, but i did visit Whitby for my birthday and help with lambing. i also saw Natalie Haynes talk about her newest book in York.

books read: Dragged Up Proppa by Pip Fallow, Helen Of Troy by Bettany Hughes, The Amber Fury by Natalie Haynes, Divine Might by Natalie Haynes.

April

i wrote two fics for @carry-on-sapphic-week!

Spitfire- In the morning, someone will come to collect me, and I will have to leave Niamh, and Simon, Baz, Penelope, Shepard. The friends I have made, and the love I have forged. Back on dry land. How am I supposed to return to the life I had led before, how am I supposed to agree to some other arranged marriage, to another man I have never met, who cares nothing for me? How am I supposed to give up the pistol I have kept close for over a month and pick up my embroidery again? 1.9k words.

Rosebud Girl- I never thought it would be an art class that finished me off. I had hoped it would be a bit of stress relief, a creative outlet sorely needed between my real classes. It’s at a community centre on campus, a short walk from my morning law class. I should have just stuck to football, and said fuck creativity. We’ve moved on from fruit to figures, and the table in the centre of the room has been replaced by a model. A nude model. A nude Simone Snow, my first year roommate. 2.7k words.

books read: The Thursday Murder Club by Richard Osman, The Man Who Died Twice by Richard Osman, The Bullet That Missed by Richard Osman, The Last Devil To Die by Richard Osman, Great Goddesses by Nikita Gill.

May

my goat Juno had her kids, Olive and Jem, but decided she didn't like them very much, so i became their second mother, topping them up with milk. this was a sleepless, stressful month, so i didn't write very much.

books read: Caligula by Simon Turney, In The Shadow Of Vesuvius by Daisy Dunn.

June

my OC wip got to 14k words! and that's about it. i didn't even manage to go to pride this year. i mostly just continued to bottle feed the goats.

books read: Protest- Britain On The March by Mirrorpix Photo Archive, A History Of The Roman Empire In 21 Women by Emma Southon.

July

i wrote two fics for @carryon-disability-week!

comfortable coats, calico cats, and collapsible canes- Simon plans a spontaneous date, but Baz is worried his bad leg will put a damper on things. Luckily, Simon has come prepared. 2.4k words.

a fist amidst the hands- Simon can wield a sword, but not a pen. Baz thinks he's figured out why, and wants to help. Simon just wants to sleep. 2.5k words.

books read: A Short History Of The World According To Sheep by Sally Coulthard, Facing Down The Furies- Suicide, The Ancient Greeks, And Me by Edith Hall.

August

i wrote a fic as a friend's birthday present. i also visited Edinburgh for the fringe, saw the best production of Antigone in my life, and visited the art gallery while i was there.

A Day In Epirus- Pyrrhus is running late. Hermione has a way of distracting him, when today of all days she should really know better. Not that he can hold it against her, when he was so enthusiastic himself. But it’s Molossus’s fourth birthday, and he has a full itinerary to cross off. 2.3k words.

books read: Roman Mysteries- The Thieves Of Ostia by Caroline Lawrence, Roman Woman by Lindsay Allason Jones, From A Rock To A Hard Place- Memories Of The 1984/85 Miners' Strike by Beverley Trounce, Dynasty- The Rise And Fall Of The House Of Caesar by Tom Holland.

September

no writing except for chipping away at my original works. my trojan war retelling hit 60k words!

we also got a new puppy, her name is Suzie. she's mad as a box of frogs.

books read: We Solve Murders by Richard Osman, Percy Jackson- The Wrath Of The Triple Goddess by Rick Riordan.

October

again, just writing my original stuff. it was my nephew's first birthday though! not really my achievement, but still. we went pumpkin picking to celebrate.

i also saw Terry Deary and Edith Hall give talks at Durham Book Festival, and Terry Deary answered my question!

books read: A History Of Britain In Ten Enemies by Terry Deary, Alcestis by Katharine Beutner.

November

i wrote a sequel to my previous year's fic for @carryonthroughtheages! honestly, shoulder to shoulder is probably my favourite fic to have written, and this was a close second.

give them hope, give them strength, give them life- A look into Simon and Baz's life through the years. 7.9k words.

books read: Home Fire by Kamila Shamsie, The Sheep's Tale by John Lewis Stempel.

December

my OC wip stands at 15k words.

my trojan war retelling stands at 65k words!! my goal for the end of the year was 69k, because that sounds funnier and less daunting than 70k, but there are only two days left. let's see if i can manage it, 2k a day?

i got to see my friends for christmas, we met in Manchester. all of us simply making it through this year is the achievement i'm proudest of.

i also wrote a fic for a secret santa exchange in a classics discord server i'm in, it was a lot of fun!

sweet music playing in the dark- Penelope and Odysseus, throughout the years, together or apart. 3.8k words.

books read: Small Things Like These by Claire Keegan.

this has been so fun, it's nice to reflect! i tag @cutestkilla @roomwithanopenfire @prettygoododds @bookish-bogwitch @ic3-que3n @blackberrysummerblog @j-nipper-95 @youarenevertooold @larkral @orange-peony @aristocratic-otter @artsyunderstudy @thewholelemon @alexalexinii @shrekgogurt @comesitintheclover @raenestee @hushed-chorus @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @noblecorgi @shemakesmeforget @ileadacharmedlife @supercutedinosaurs @otherpeoplesheartachept-2 @ninemagicks @otherworldsivelivedin @meanjeansjeans @jasonfunderberkerthefrogexists @carryonmylovelies and anyone else who wants to do this! sorry if i hit anyone who has already done so.

[heartilywrites]

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀،، 𝓜ine ; Korra

request guide | masterlist

resume: where Korra finds herself wondering about you.

content warning: comfort ; Korra x fem!reader ; Mako and Bolin being wingmen ; no use of y/n

wc: 1.1k

a/n: HI HELLO 👋🏼 i reappear here with a short tiny spontaneous korra fic to thank you for 100 followers and also to thank all the love you give to my writes you have no idea how it melts my heart knowing you all like what i write <33 i had my doubts since english is not my first language, but you all really make me want to keep writing !!! this os goes also for the ones asking me for more korra content and for the ones that have requested and i haven't posted your request, know that i am working on them. HOPE YOU ENJOY AND I'LL REOPEN REQUEST SINCE I'M BACK <33

“ I can't help it, I'm just selfish, there's no way that I could share you.

Mako was almost sure he could hear the way Korra's teeth were grinding. Her blue eyes were fixated in one specific point and her jaw clenching, he followed her gaze and his own eyes met your silhouette laughing with some other girl who was a little bit touchy with your arm

Korra and you didn’t have a romantic relationship... yet, she always says, it's only a matter of finding the right time and place to tell you and it definitely wasn't in a party celebrating the probending championship.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “You'll hurt your teeth if you keep doing that.” the firebender called for the avatar, cutting her thoughts on how she could fight the girl for you. “You should maybe do something about it and stop killing people in your mind when they're with her.”

Korra looked back at him, he knew about the girl's crush on you, just as Bolin and Asami did. Everyone in the group were well aware of how she ogled you at every chance she had to look your way.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I don't think here is the correct place, you know.” her eyes went back at the two of you, you now looked very interested in whatever the hell the girl was saying and that made her heart dropped.

That should be her making you laugh, that should be her having you look fondly and interested in anything she said. The avatar crushed her cup of water in her hand, Mako watched with his brows raised.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I'm just saying, you should start working before someone else make a move on her.” he finished taking a sip of his drink.

And for you... Just one person was aware of how you would ogled her when she was distracted.

Bolin gave you the idea on making Korra jealous so she could action, you tried to be the one to take the first step before and were met with a one-sided flirt or an interpretation of a friend outing instead of a date, so you gave up.

You didn’t know if your flirting was just bad and sad or Korra was ignoring it since she didn’t feel the same way about you, but it was the earthbender accidentally being a wingman saying how Korra didn’t stop talking about you and how pretty she found you on one of your dinners with him that made you decided that maybe you would wait for her to make a move when she felt comfortable enough... But it felt eternal.

You knew the plan your friend gave you was working when in a quick glance of the place while the girl was talking about some weird bending move she claimed to create your eyes bumped into Korra's for a second and the way her blue eyes looked cold and electric sent chills down your spine, so you continued with the plan.

Your hand looked to caress the firebender's arm with what would be interpreted as a second intention which made the girl move closer to you and Korra stood up from her seat scaring Mako who looked at her.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Uhh, Korra, I need you to think with a cold head what you'll do.” the guy at her side said and she moved her hand to shush him.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I got this, fuck time and place.” she said before making her way to you.

You were way too focused on not looking away to not give another impression that when the avatar took you by the arm and pulled you away you stumbled a little bit with your own feet.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “What the fuck!? Who–” your exclamation stopped mid sentence when your eyes met the blue ones and your legs almost failed you. “Korra...” the calling of her name left your mouth as if you were out of breath.

And you kinda were; the avatar had this serious grimace painted on her face and her aura felt intimidating. You heard the girl you were talking with protest to the avatar on how she was speaking to you, her eyes shot at her and Korra straightened her posture.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Yeah, well, she's going with me now.” she said tilting her head to the side. “Any problem with that?”

The firebender looked for help on your side but you were way too concentrated on Korra to notice anything else. She shrugged and went back to the bar.

Her eyes got back at you and you could actually see how they softened at your sight, non-verbally Korra requested to be out the place with you and you agreed.

The walk out was quiet, once the talks and music sounded distance you two took seats in the concrete stairs outside the place. Your eyes never left Korra, it was clear at how mesmerized and stunned you were at the scene, you imagined everything but that.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I'm sorry if I was too harsh on you, I just...” her words mixed in the wind, she stopped to think of how to follow. “I was, uhm, I was jealous.”

Your heart skipped a beat, it worked.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “It's just... I couldn't bear to see you with anyone else that isn't me.” she continued, her gaze was avoiding yours until that sentence. That electric blue that made your legs shake met your curious eyes. “I've liked you for quite some time now... And I know this isn't the time or place to say it–.”

Your lips didn’t let her finish whatever she wanted to say as they were pressing hers, at first it was a shy tiny kiss which had Korra stunned at the action. When you pulled away, a flirty smile was growing in your face.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “You like me, you think of me, you couldn't see me with another girl, you were sooo jealous.” you teased her speaking over her lips. That gave Korra the courage to take you by the waist and place you on her lap, your eyes opened with surprise.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “What if I am? You're mine now, I don’t have to share you with anyone else.” she attacked back, feels of tingles at the brush of her lips on yours. “You're mine, aren't you? Can I call you mine?”

It definitely felt almost like a dream, one which you didn’t to wake up anymore. A big smile began to grow in your own mouth. “Of course, I'm yours all yours.”

You had so much to thank Bolin the next day.

[azzys-secret-kink-blog]

Improper Use of Boba

CW: explicit sexual content, belly expansion, labor and birth(sort of), oviposition-adjacent but not really

Don't put tapioca pearls in places they should not go or they might do things they should not do

They barely made it in the door before Remy was pinned against the counter, and Finn’s mouth was on his. They’d gone out, and, while getting boba at a new spot that had opened nearby, ended up falling into a downright filthy conversation that had them rushing back to their apartment, lest they be arrested for public indecency. Finn had a leg between Remy’s, pressed against his dripping cunt, letting the shorter man grind on it while their mouths were occupied. Remy’s hands found his boyfriend’s belt and began fiddling with it, eventually getting it undone and opening his pants. He pushed Finn back, then turned him so he was pinned where Remy had been. He wrapped his hands around Finn’s half hard cock and stroked him to full stiffness before falling to his knees and licking a stripe along the underside of it. He kissed at the tip before taking it fully in his mouth and licking all around the head. Finn gasped and moaned, burying a hand in Remy’s hair to egg him on. Remy began to suck with fervor, taking as much of Finn as he could into his mouth, gagging as his dick hit the back of his throat. Remy kept pushing, and it wasn’t long before Finn was crying down and cumming down his throat.

Finn pulled him off his softening cock and kissed him, licking into his mouth and tasting himself. He pulled them both back up and toward the bedroom, where he promptly pulled Remy’s pants off and threw him down on the bed. Remy positioned himself against the headboard and let Finn spread his legs. Finn moved to bury his face in Remy’s cunt before pausing.

“What is it?” Remy asked. Finn furrowed his brow.

“I have an idea. I’ll be right back,” Finn got up off the bed and ran down the hall, leaving Remy half naked and dripping on the sheets. He pulled his shirt off and sat back on the bed. This wouldn’t be the first time Finn had come up with some spontaneous bedroom experiment. Once he’d decided to fill Remy’s cunt with whipped cream, eaten it out of him, and then eaten him out again in the shower afterwards, licking every bit of the sugar from his hole and leaving no trace. Finn’s ideas usually ended up pretty enjoyable, but sometimes they did end up a tad weird.

Finn came back with his half-drunk milk tea, still full of little black pearls. He took a few long sips before storing all the boba in one cheek and swallowing the tea. Remy cocked an eyebrow.

“What are you going to do with that?” He asked, a little apprehensive. He trusted Finn, but failed to see what he could do with boba of all things. Finn crawled back in between Remy’s legs before looking up to his face. He held his thumb up, then down, giving a questioning look. Ever the gentleman. Remy nodded.

Then his face was in Remy’s cunt, licking up his folds and circling his clit. He focused on the short shaft for a few moments, before moving down to his hole. He pressed a finger in, then two, stretching him out a little before diving in with his tongue. He pulled his tongue in and out a few times, then pressed his lips to Remy’s hole and began to push the boba into him. The pearls were warm from being in Finn’s mouth, and felt strange popping into him. Finn pushed them further in with his tongue, and emptied the stores in his cheeks before grabbing another mouthful from his cup and repeating the process.

Soon they filled his hole, and Finn went back in with his tongue, shifting them around inside of Remy. Finn had brought a hand up to gently rub at his clit while he worked, keeping Remy panting and squirming against his face. Every now and then a little whine would escape his throat, and Finn chased those sounds.

The pearls felt odd inside of Remy. They shifted and rolled inside him with every movement of Finn’s tongue. They pressed against every inch of his walls while the fingers stroked him, and he felt the stretch as even more pearls were deposited into him. He whined and moaned, grabbing at a pillow up to bury his face in to hide his noises. Finn noticed and batted his hands away from the pillow. He loved the noises Remy made during sex, even if Remy was embarrassed by them. Remy whined again before fisting his hands into the sheets instead and just letting the noises come.

He eventually began to feel a warmth building in his core, close to his peak. He held his thighs tight around Finn’s head and moaned. “Fuck, Finn- I’m so close, dont stop, please-” he cut off with a cry and Finn pressed hard against his clit. That drove him over the edge and his cunt clenched with his climax, forcing a few of the pearls out and back into Finn’s mouth. He looked down to see Finn grinning as he swallowed the boba, bringing his tongue back down to begin digging them out. He worked them out of Remy’s oversensitive hole, gently hooking his tongue to pull them out.

Once he’d gotten all he could with his mouth, leaving Remy panting against the sheets, he offered a hand and guided him to the bathroom. He got them both in the shower, where he used his fingers to dig more of the pearls out, and brought Remy over the edge a second time. Once he was sure he’d gotten them all out, he gently washed all the stickiness off of the both of them, and ten minutes later they were wrapped in a blanket on the couch, where Remy promptly fell asleep.

Remy woke up a couple of hours later with a bloated feeling in his gut. He groaned and cuddled closer to Finn, who had turned on some sort of documentary about shrimp. Finn kissed the top of his head and wrapped his arm around Remy’s shoulder, pulling the blanket off of them and tugging Remy sideways to lay across his lap, and wrapping him back up like a swaddled baby. He rested a hand over his stomach, thinking they’d probably just given him regular milk at the boba spot by accident, and went back to sleep.

He awoke again after a few more hours, Finn was now asleep and snoring and the sky was dark outside. The clock on the wall read five past 10. Remy felt even more bloated than before. He lifted the blanket to see a visible curve to his normally fairly flat stomach. He’d never reacted this severely to milk before, but he felt okay other than the slight ache. He stood, laying the blanket over the back of the couch and gently shaking Finn awake. He guided his still-half-asleep boyfriend to bed and went back to sleep pressed against his side. The bloating would probably pass by tomorrow, nothing to worry about.

~~~

Ok, now he was worried. Remy had woken up early the next morning, gone to use the bathroom, and caught sight of himself in the mirror. His stomach had swollen far past what could be considered bloating, with no other indicators that it was a reaction to something. His navel had even popped out. He lifted his shirt and pressed a hand against his swollen stomach, and felt something inside it shift inside him. He jerked his hand back with a gasp and rushed out of the bathroom.

He shook Finn, who groaned for a few more minutes of sleep. “Finn, something is wrong, seriously, get up!” Finn’s eyes flew open at that and he pushed himself up to sit.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know, but look,” Remy lifted his shirt again to show his middle. He could pass for someone six months pregnant at this point. Finn extended a hand and poked Remy’s belly, making him yelp and yank his shirt back down. “I-I thought they gave me milk by accident or something yesterday, but it’s gotten worse, I dont know whats going on.”

Finn stood and began looking for his shirt. “I’ll go get the car started, there’s an emergency room on campus, I’ll-”

“Wait, no, please, I can’t go to the ER, one of the guys works there,” Remy said. He was starting to panic. One of the other members of his fraternity, who he would readily admit was on the weirder side, worked at the campus ER and would spread the word as soon as he found out Remy was trans. Finn knew he was trying to go stealth. He began to protest, but shut his mouth when he saw the look on Remy’s face.

“Okay, no emergency room. What do you want to do?” Finn asked, bringing a hand up to rest on Remy’s cheek to try and give him a little comfort.

“I don’t know. I don’t even know what’s wrong with me. It aches a little, but it doesn’t actually hurt? It feels like . . . like there’s something in me,” Remy said, bringing a hand to press on his stomach again. He grimaced as he felt whatever was in him shift with the pressure. Finn moved both of his hands to either side of Remy’s belly and squeezed gently, making the things roll and press against his organs. Remy groaned at the sensation. Finn guided him to lay back down on the bed so he could continue inspecting the swell. After a few minutes of prodding and fondling, Finn’s hands found their way to Remy’s waistband and tugged it down to inspect between his legs.

“Finn, seriously, now is really not the time,” Remy whined. Despite his protests, he was already soaked. He refused to admit it to himself, but every touch of his belly sent waves of arousal coursing through him. He fought the feeling, embarrassed, but it persisted.

“I’m not trying to get in your pants, babe, I’m trying to make sure you’re not dying,” Finn said. That sent a fresh wave of fear hurtling through his thoughts. Oh god, what if he was dying? He seemed to still be swelling, slightly bigger than he was when he woke up. What if he just kept growing until he burst? What a waste of all the money he’d spent on student loans. His train of thought was cut off when Finn shoved a finger up his cunt.

“Finn!” Remy cried.

Finn’s mouth curled into a frown and his brow furrowed as he dug his finger around, hitting Remy’s cervix and making him yelp in surprise. “What the fuck?” Finn whispered.

“What, what did you find?” Remy asked, trying to lean over his now seven-month-equivalent belly to look down at himself. He couldn’t see, and Finn inserted another finger and kept prodding. Remy whined.

“Your cervix is really low, I think. . . whatever’s in you, it’s in your uterus, I think?” Finn said.

“Are you trying to say that I’m pregnant or something?” Remy asked. “Oh god, what if it’s ghosts? I can’t do that again, I still get nervous around hospitals!”

“I don’t think it’s ghosts, nothing’s moving in there, and I doubt you’re pregnant, you wouldn’t swell up this fast. This might be uncomfortable, but I’m going to try and feel what’s in there, okay?” Finn said.

“It’s already uncomfortable, just do it,” Remy said. He gasped as Finn’s fingers pressed into his cervix. He squirmed on the bed as Finn continued to inspect him. Eventually, he pulled his fingers out, wiped them off, and brought his hands back to Remy’s belly. He pressed against his skin, trying to get a feel for what was inside him, and after a few more minutes and another poke at his cervix, pulled his hands away.

“Ok, so I do not know what’s in there. I don’t think it’s alive, and it’s kind of . . . squishy? There are a bunch of squishy round things? I’m not sure how many, but there’s definitely at least a dozen of them,” Finn said. “I have a buddy who somehow got himself full of snake eggs that looked similar, but I don’t think that's what this is.”

Remy stared down at the mound and pressed his hand in to feel the squish, thinking about what could possibly have caused this whole situation, when it hit him. “Oh my god.”

“What?”

“The fucking boba! It had to be cursed or something!” Remy said. He pressed both of his hands to his belly, now inching closer to an eight month size, and managed to isolate one of the things. It had a squish to it fairly consistent with that of a tapioca pearl.

Finn looked horrified. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, this is my fault, I shouldn’t have. . . fuck,” Finn said.

“It’s not your fault, you didn’t know,” Remy sighed. “So how are we gonna get these out? I think they might still be getting bigger.”

They both stared at Remy’s abdomen for a moment, contemplating. Finn pulled out his phone to see if he could find anything online, but came up empty handed. Remy got up, a bit of a struggle in his current situation, and started digging around in his things for something that might be useful. He even found the old boba cups, but there was nothing helpful about them.

“I’m gonna call them,” Finn finally said.

“Call who?”

“The shop. I think it’s mostly witches that work there, maybe they had a mix up or something.”

One phone call later confirmed that it was accidental. The shop was owned by some local witches who’d made the batch for someone else and ended up accidentally mixing it up with a regular batch of pearls. If eaten, there wouldn’t be any problems, but when put in places where one is not supposed to put tapioca pearls, odd things happen. They instructed Finn on how to perform a spell that would help get them out.

By the time Finn had finished drawing the sigil over Remy’s belly, he looked nearly due with twins. The pearls were the size of softballs inside of him. Finn completed the spell, and the sigil glowed and disappeared. They both sat there in silence for a few minutes, waiting for something to happen.

“What is it supposed to do?” Remy asked after a few minutes. “I don’t feel any different.”

“I think it’s derived from some sort of fertility spell, but I’m not sure,” Finn said. “I haven’t really studied these kinds of spells for. . . well, obvious reasons. I’m not trying to get anyone pregnant before I even finish college.”

“Maybe we should call them back, see if we did it wrong or-” Remy cut off with a gasp as his stomach clenched. Every inch of his abdomen was squeezing, forcing the pearls downward, and creating visible bulges against his skin. It sharpened the ache in his gut, but it wasn’t anywhere close to the worst pain he’d felt. He groaned and laid back on the bed, propping his legs up and cradling his belly in his hands. Finn gave him a worried look.

The contraction passed after a few moments, and Remy tried to reposition himself. Finn helped him up into a half-sit, propped up by pillows. He sat next to Remy as another contraction rolled through him a few minutes later, holding his hand and lightly stroking his hair. Finn held him gently, supporting him through the contraction.

“It’s. . .” Remy took a deep breath. “It’s not as bad as I thought it would be. It hurts a little but I think I’ll be okay.” He buried his face in Finn’s chest as another contraction took hold, and with it, a nagging feeling that urged Remy to push.

He gave in to the urge, trying to force the pearls out with the pressure from the contraction, but felt no progress. A few more contractions, and more pushing, but the pearls refused to leave him. Finn moved down between his legs to inspect what was happening, pressing two fingers into him to see if the pearls were blocked or something. Remy continued to push, but still nothing.

Remy cradled his aching belly between his hands. He could feel the pearls inside him shift with his contractions, rubbing against his inner walls and making him slick with arousal. He whined as another contraction came and went with no progress. The pearls were still growing slowly inside him, and if he didn’t get them out soon they’d be too big, if they weren’t already.

Finn brought his hands up to the upper swell of Remy’s belly. “When the next contraction comes, take a deep breath and push for me, okay?” He said. Remy nodded, and was about to ask what he was going to do, but the next contraction was already gripping him. He breathed deep and bore down as Finn gripped his belly and pushed his hands into it. Remy cried out at the additional pressure, but soon he felt a pop inside of him. The first pearl had escaped his packed womb and was now stretching his canal wide. Remy moved one of his hands down to feel his folds bulging around the pearl, a coin-sized bit of it visible from his hole. He pushed again, feeling the pearl move and open his folds wider. The contractions were barely a minute apart now. He alternated between rubbing his swollen stomach, trying to count the pearls through his skin, and pushing with the contractions.

His cunt stung as the first pearl hit its widest point, squeezing through his entrance and falling with a wet plop onto the sheets. Finn held it up, glistening in the light, and placed it in a bin he’d set next to the bed. He brought his hands back to Remy’s middle and pushed in with the next contraction, forcing another pearl into his canal. The contractions were on top of each other now, only seconds between them. Sweat dripped down Remy’s forehead as he pushed the second pearl out. The third came quickly after without Finn’s assistance, Remy’s cervix having opened enough to pass them now.

The fourth and fifth came in quick succession, popping out one after the other and making Remy yelp. The stinging was fading with every pearl as his hole stretched to accommodate them. They were coming out faster now, the sixth only needing a few pushes before popping out. The seventh, eighth, and ninth all came quickly. Finn could barely keep up, and by the time he’d deposited one pearl in the bin another was ready to go. Remy groaned and grunted as he pushed them out. His hole burned, not with pain now, but arousal. Every pearl that passed through him pushed against his walls and put pressure on that sensitive bit of flesh as they approached their exit.

Remy reached a hand around his belly, now considerably smaller, to brush his fingers against his clit. He rubbed at his belly with one hand and used the other to stroke himself. He was achingly hard. Finn noticed and gently pushed his hand away, replacing it with his mouth. Remy cried out as Finn sucked him off, pushing three more pearls out. The pleasure egged him on, and both hands now kneaded at his belly. He basked in the feeling of them stretching his skin and pressing on his insides, shifting and rolling, and another popped out of him as he got close to his climax.

Two more pearls shot out of him as he came, squirting on the already ruined sheets. His belly was now the size it had been when he’d gone to sleep last night, still swollen but more akin to bloating than pregnancy. The pearls weren’t coming out as quickly anymore. Fourteen had been passed, and Remy’s abdomen was feeling significantly less crowded. Finn rubbed his swollen folds as the fifteenth came and went slowly, Remy only able to muster lighter pushes. The sixteenth and seventeenth made their way out almost lazily.

The final pearl sat heavy in Remy’s womb. His core was so tired and sore, he hardly had it in him to push it out. He brought a shaky hand to the bulge and pushed it down into his canal manually, mustering just enough energy to squeeze it out of his cunt. It landed in Finn’s hands, and was dropped into the bin with the rest.

Remy’s head flopped back onto the pillow, exhausted. Hours of pushing had sapped every bit of his strength. The ache in his belly was gone, replaced by a dull throb of soreness that extended from his stomach to his thighs. He breathed a sigh of relief. It was finally over.

Finn gently ran a warm washcloth over all the wetness that had accumulated, both from slick and sweat. He threw the cloth into a hamper when he was done, then left the room. Remy almost fell asleep, but Finn came back with a cup of water and a sandwich and held them out for him with an apologetic look. Remy pulled himself up to chug the water and took a couple of bites of the sandwich before Finn spoke.

“I’m sorry about all this, it was my fault. I know some of the witches at the shop, I should’ve checked to make sure-”

“Babe, nobody would think to check if the boba they bought was cursed. It wasn’t your fault, and honestly it probably could’ve gone much worse. Nothing will be as bad as the ghosts, I think,” Remy said. “Maybe let’s be a little more hesitant on putting things in odd places though.”

“That’s probably a good idea with all the nonsense that goes on in this town,” Finn chuckled. “Maybe no more boba for a while.”

Remy nodded.

No more boba.

. . . for now.

[cent-scratchnsniff]

hiii I was wondering, is it just me or does it feel like Yesod would spontaneously combust the nanosecond his little walnut brain realizes "hey they might not be visiting me just to bother me about paper" ? in reference to your funny Blue Cheese/Netzach/Yesod post

also how often do you think Chesed is haunted by Chuck-E-Cheese ?

genuinely cant think of anything funny to say in reaponse all outa ideas it got drained out of me into the lobcorp machine to get on the stupidest of grinds for this . feels like it would go all quiet up in there before going back into existence to fully process the fact . exaggerated for a sad attempt at humor

on regards to chuck e cheese not quite exactly the idea presented but i havent slept in awhile so i hope this slight tangent regarding the idea will suffice. i think it haunts him like an ever present oil stain thats just faded but when youre having a nice day pops up to remind you of its existence. not quite sure how it haunts as its not necessary good nor bad but it sure does never leave. if we are talking literal apparition haunting deal. maybe like on weekends

does the city have a chuck e cheese. did chesed ever experince the very grungy experience of a chuck-e-cheese. is there some sort of abnormality that took on its form akin to how fragment of the universe tried to change its appearance in order to communicate its intent though crayon scribbles and hearts but for the mascot of chunky cheese to communicate the . pain of entertainment joints or smthn. ill never know . hopefully ill stay ignorant to such matters

[gourjenous]

Harmonizing Hearts || l.mark

You never expected your big break to come through an impromptu collaboration with a member of one of the biggest boy bands in the world. As an independent musician, you were known for your raw, soulful voice and deep, introspective lyrics, but finding a unique sound for your debut album was proving to be harder than you thought. You had been grinding for months, hopping from one studio session to another, trying to piece together the perfect track list, but something was missing.

That’s when your manager dropped the news—Mark Lee from NCT had heard about your work and wanted to collaborate on a track.

At first, you were stunned. Mark Lee? One of the most versatile rappers and songwriters in the K-pop world? The idea seemed too good to be true. You admired his work from a distance, his ability to switch between different musical genres effortlessly. But despite your respect for his talent, a seed of doubt planted itself in your mind. What could someone like Mark see in your music?

The first time you walked into the studio, the atmosphere was electric. Instruments were scattered around, with keyboards, guitars, and synths plugged in, and sheet music lay across the counters. The room smelled faintly of coffee and that distinct scent of fresh recording equipment. As you took in your surroundings, you felt a nervous flutter in your chest.

Mark greeted you with a warm smile, his laid-back, approachable demeanor putting you somewhat at ease. "Y/N, right? I’ve been listening to some of your tracks—super excited to work with you."

"Yeah, thanks," you replied, trying to match his enthusiasm, though your nerves were making your voice come out shakier than intended. "I’ve been listening to your stuff too. Your lyrics... they always hit hard."

He grinned, clearly appreciating the compliment. "I try," he said with a chuckle. "So, what do you want to start with? I’ve got some ideas, but I’m totally open to seeing where the music takes us."

The first few sessions felt more like feeling each other out than making actual progress. Mark was as talented and easy-going as you’d heard, but your creative approaches couldn’t have been more different. You were used to spending hours fine-tuning melodies, getting lost in the details of composition and harmony. Mark, on the other hand, thrived on spontaneity—he’d throw out ideas, test verses on the fly, and embrace the chaos of creativity. It was impressive, but it was also overwhelming for you, who tended to be more methodical in your process.

During one late-night session, after a few hours of back-and-forth over a song’s structure, the frustration started to bubble up.

"Mark, this chorus doesn’t work," you said, your voice more clipped than you intended. "It’s too fast, and it doesn’t match the mood of the verses."

Mark, sitting across from you with his guitar, raised his eyebrows. "I think it adds energy to the track. If we slow it down too much, it’ll lose its edge."

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "It just doesn’t feel right. I don’t want to rush through this. We need to get it perfect."

"I get that," he replied, but there was a flicker of impatience in his tone. "But sometimes, you just have to go with the flow. Not everything needs to be overthought, you know?"

"Overthought?" you snapped, your frustration spilling over. "It’s called paying attention to details. We can’t just slap things together and hope it works."

Mark’s expression shifted, his normally relaxed demeanor hardening. "I’m not saying we’re slapping things together. But if you keep overanalyzing every note, we’re never going to get anywhere."

The room grew tense, the atmosphere crackling with the unsaid. You felt the sting of his words, but more than that, you were frustrated with yourself. You hadn’t meant to get so defensive, but the pressure to prove yourself was weighing heavily on your shoulders. Mark was already successful, already established. Meanwhile, you were still clawing your way to the surface.

"Look," Mark sighed after a moment of silence, rubbing the back of his neck. "I didn’t mean to come off like that. I just... I feel like we’re not on the same wavelength right now. Maybe we need to take a step back."

You nodded, swallowing your pride. "Yeah, maybe you’re right."

The session ended early that night, both of you leaving the studio in tense silence. You couldn’t shake the feeling of disappointment that clung to you as you walked home, your mind replaying the argument. You had wanted this collaboration to be perfect, but instead, it felt like everything was falling apart.

The next day, you debated canceling the session altogether, wondering if maybe this partnership wasn’t meant to be. But as the hours passed, you realized that walking away wasn’t the answer. You respected Mark too much to give up so easily, and deep down, you knew that the problem wasn’t him—it was your own insecurities.

When you arrived at the studio later that afternoon, Mark was already there, tuning his guitar. He glanced up as you entered, offering a tentative smile.

"Hey," he said, his voice softer than usual. "About last night... I think we both just got a little too in our heads."

You nodded, taking a seat beside him. "Yeah, I was feeling the pressure. I guess I let that get to me."

Mark set down his guitar and leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "I get it. I’ve been there too. It’s hard, especially when you’re trying to put something out there that’s personal. But we don’t have to rush this. Let’s take our time, figure it out together."

His words eased some of the tension in your chest, and for the first time since you started working together, you felt like you were on the same page. Mark wasn’t just some idol who had everything figured out. He was someone who understood the struggle, someone who had been through the same challenges you were facing.

"Thanks, Mark," you said, meeting his gaze. "I appreciate that."

From that moment on, the dynamic between you two shifted. The pressure eased, and instead of butting heads, you started to find common ground. Mark’s spontaneity no longer felt overwhelming, and your attention to detail wasn’t a hindrance. Instead, you began to see how your strengths could complement each other. When you got stuck on a melody, Mark would jump in with a fresh perspective. When he wanted to push through a verse quickly, you’d remind him to slow down and focus on the emotions behind the words.

Late one evening, after hours of tinkering with a melody on the piano, you stumbled upon something special. You played a soft, delicate progression, and Mark’s eyes lit up.

"That’s it," he said, sitting up straighter. "That’s the mood we’ve been trying to capture."

You nodded, feeling the same spark of excitement. "Yeah, it feels... right."

Mark picked up his notebook, scribbling down some lyrics before passing them to you. The words were raw, vulnerable, and hit close to home. As you read through them, you realized they were about unspoken feelings, about finding love where you least expect it. The song was about emotions that had been bubbling beneath the surface for weeks, emotions you hadn’t even fully acknowledged until now.

The atmosphere in the studio shifted as the two of you worked on the song, your usual playful banter giving way to a deeper, more intimate connection. Mark’s voice was quieter than usual as he suggested changes, his fingers grazing yours as he passed you the notebook. Every touch, every glance, felt charged with something unspoken.

When the song was nearly finished, you both took a step back, listening to the playback. The soft melody you had created blended seamlessly with Mark’s lyrics, the music capturing the essence of everything you had been feeling—uncertainty, longing, and the thrill of something new.

"You know," Mark said after a long silence, "this song... it feels personal. Like, really personal."

You glanced at him, noticing the way his eyes lingered on yours. "Yeah. It does."

There was a beat of silence, the air between you thick with tension. Mark shifted in his seat, his hand resting on the edge of the piano. "I’ve been writing about something real," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "About us. About... how I’ve been feeling."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. It was something you had felt too, but hadn’t dared to acknowledge. The long hours spent together, the laughter, the quiet moments where your eyes would meet across the room—it had all been building toward this.

"I’ve been feeling it too," you confessed, your voice soft. "I just didn’t know how to say it."

In that moment, the distance between you disappeared. Mark leaned closer, his gaze flickering to your lips before meeting your eyes again. There was a hesitation, a silent question, and when you nodded, he closed the gap, pressing his lips to yours in a gentle, tentative kiss.

Mark’s lips curved into a small smile, his eyes softening. "I guess the music said it for us."

The kiss was soft and slow, filled with all the emotions that had been simmering between you for weeks. When you finally pulled away, you couldn’t help but smile, the weight that had been pressing on your chest lifting.

"I guess we make a pretty good team," you said, your voice light

[grappleghosts]

What Could a "24/7" title look like in AEW?

There is something missing nowadays in the landscape of wrestling.

The sheer unconventionality, spontaneity, AND unpredictability. While having things set neatly for everlasting stories and laid out for us is great, sometimes it should be messy.

Think “Charisma, Uniqueness, Nerve and Talent”, but for the old squared circle. If there was a way to incorporate a level of campiness to cleanse the palette while not taking the focus completely away from the week-to-week grind.

For the sake of making my point, I will briefly mention the 'big W'. The history of this cockamamie idea lays there in the:

WWE Hardcore Championship (1998-2002):

Imagine a lawless land, Mad Max meets Jawbreaker. No disqualifications, countouts AND pinfalls anywhere. As long as a referee is present, the title can and will change hands. Which honestly is like a 'quickie' in the weirdest tinder way possible.

On the power tripping high of ECW's successes, Vince introduces the idea under the 'no holds barred' and '24/7' guise. While the 'Attitude Era' has quite an everlasting aftertaste, the belt served it's purpose in its short lived stint. If you want a more concisive history, I've linked this video from WhatCulture.

Years later (2019-2023) the legend himself, Mick Foley- brought the idea back into a new format . Calling it the 'WWE 24/7' championship, but keeping the same wacky rules. However, history once again repeated itself. In four years time, the idea and the belt was retired into internet obscurity.

Though, before its ultimate demise? We got some golden moments that showcased talents - whom we wouldn't usually see in the main spotlight.

See where I'm going with this?

Concept:

By all means, the rules would remain the same. However, this would open the door to title switches during AEW's online content like "Hey! (EW)"- hosted by RJ City, and "Close Up" - hosted by Renee Paquette.

(Images Credit: All Elite Wrestling)

Who could even compete?

Anyone from established roster members/current title holders (both from the men AND women's roster), to those that we don't see a lot during weekly programming.

Now, if we wanted to get a little crazy with it? I'd go as far to say even AEW personnel. I'm talking RJ, Renee, Nigel, Excalibur, Ian, Alicia, etc. Under circumstances that wouldn't necessarily mean pinfall. I'm talking loopholes, baby.

Hell, EVEN the referees themselves. Aubrey, Bryce, Mike, etc. Imagine the crazy twists that could bring.

Overall, these circumstances could bring an extra layer to pre-existing story lines. Hypothetically, mind you.

The potential:

With the concept itself, I really believe that it could open the door for cross-roster mingling.

Where the "big W's" mixed tag team challenge failed, I feel AEW could succeed. Why?

Being that the 24/7 rule speaks for itself, imagine the likes of say- Harely Cameron using her cunning skill to swipe the title off of Prince Nana. EVEN Shibata stripping the title from Hikaru Shida.

The mingling could even aid in story betrayals, if you're willing to stretch your imagination far enough.

These are the absolute wild "what if's" that pile up in my brain until I put them into place here.

I choose to be a bit of a space cadet, where reality makes it seem that these things would never be possible. But sometimes following the rules is extremely boring.

Who would you like to see or what stories do you think could benefit from a '24/7' title?

[universallydestinytaco]

@happylittlefuzzyguy

This will be the perfect opportunity to go into detail of a fanfic I always wanted to share with this fandom overall, I have told some of my friends prior about this is.

I’m just gonna say rn that my absolute least favorite episode of this entire series has to be The Enchanted Forest. Crazy I know one of the most Charpim-coded episodes and it’s my least fave, why? Now before I turn in my “queer Smiling Friends fan” card, lemme explain because I have many reasons: first off, Mip is an ugly little cockroach bitch who I wanna stomp on and grind with the heel of my sandal into a hot concrete parking lot, also I felt like the episode felt lackluster in terms of writing where as hilarious as Charlie becoming a fantasy hero is the song that the little creep sings is a dragged out, repetitive gag that wears out it’s welcome and it would have been way more interesting if Pim wanted to prove how he could be a hero even without a sword like he could be a mage with a wand or a pacifist hero…hell wouldn’t it have been funny if Pim did become the sword-wielding fantasy hero and tried to impress Charlie who is too busy bonding with Mip?? Also why the hell did Charlie get so easily attached to Mip anyway maybe it was the potion messing with his head or maybe if this episode had way more time to cook maybe it could have established Mip as an old friend of Charlie’s so Pim feels extra jealous and insecure. One big gripe I also had was how generic the Princess looked. I was expecting her to resemble Lady Amalthea from The Last Unicorn to correspond to Mip being designed in that Rankin Bass style. Maybe it’s just me being an animation nerd.

That’s why I have been working on my own rewrite of this episode to make more sense and to be less predictable and more in-line the show’s usual spontaneous and subversive writing style alongside amping up the Charpim energy! I call this: “The Enchanted Forest Remix” and boy do I have many drafts of this idea in my head, sometime after my other fanfic wraps up I might write this one, I could sketch out my ideas for the current iteration of it too because I like the idea of Pim wearing a dress and carrying around a sword for some reason haha. Wanna hear more unpopular opinions? Drop a 💛, for another fanfic idea I haven’t shared or talked about as much yet, drop a 💚.

Reply to this post.

[crescencestudio]

Intertwine Post-Mortem

i lied. i don’t know if this qualifies as a post mortem. i don’t even know what a post mortem is LMFAOkxkak

but this is my post intertwine release “devlog” chock full of dev experiences, behind the scenes looks, and more for those who want to know more about the process of creating intertwine and thoughts i’ve had in reflection of release/experiencing otojam!

it’s long bc in usual crescence fashion, a bitch loves to talk. so buckle in gamers!

my thank u offering for all the downloads and reviews

Committing to OtoJam

for those who didn’t know, i entered otojam on a sort of Whim. because i am deep in the alaris trenches, i didn’t want to distract myself for too long from my main game, especially when there are people who have paid to support development. after talking to some friends, i thought otojam would actually be good for me. i’d been struggling with burnout and was in a creative rut. on top of that, i’d been doing this dev thing for almost 2 years with no full game to show for it (cries). even if otojam would take time away from alaris, perhaps it would give me what i needed—a kick of Motivation, a dash of Creativity, and some GD Fun.

so i decided about two days into otojam to officially enter it! And thus Intertwine made its appearance

the graphic that started it all

Oh, we are Otojamming

the intertwine editing team assembled and we got to work. because i already had a pretty solid idea of the game (it had been an idea i was sitting on for a while), there was less time spent on brainstorming and more time spent on writing and editing the script. for playtesters, i already have a group for alaris, and a couple of them kindly offered to playtest intertwine for otojam. i spontaneously decided to cast a va after some discussions with the editing team, and max joined. then, with One Week left of otojam, faefield productions entered the scene!

regarding development, the first month was largely dedicated to the script. weeks 1-2 were writing and fleshing out. weeks 3-4 were dedicated to editing and fine tuning. when my editors were reviewing the script, i was creating all the art assets. after the first month, i would say we had most of the gui, one cg, and the base sprite done!

at that time i felt pretty good. we were making good progress! i even was productive on alaris and irl work!

then the Second Month happened lmao.

i always forget the Horrors of fine tuning a build. i’m projecting right now, but i’d argue a lot of developers forget or underestimate the fine tuning/ quality testing stage. during the 4th-6th weeks of otojam, i wrapped up all the assets needed for the beta build. i finished the remaining cgs, all sprite expressions, and the rest of the gui. then i coded all the features into a beta version: learning how to create a messaging system for the first time, nailing the multiple iteration mechanic, cutting and editing the voice acting audio, and other Horrors that i’m sure i’ve since blacked out from my memory all happened during the sixth week of otojam. i was truly in the Coding Trenches.

BUT i got the build done and was able to send it out to playtesters for a week of quality testing. spoiler alert: the build wasn’t perfect and there were many bugs that needed fixing. the seventh week—the second to last week of otojam—was dedicated to this as well as my own tinkering so that the build felt completely Perfect (making sure expressions r exactly how i want them, transitions and audio fade perfectly, animations are perfect, that godforsaken clickable string to get to the next iterations that No One was clicking. all of the tiny aspects that make a game feel really polished). I am Not good with grinding. Suffice to say this was probably the most miserable week.

me every hour: DID U CLICK THE STRING

But once again WE MADE IT! Near the end of the seventh week, orpheo of faefield productions reached out to me and after gushing to each other about how big of a fan we are of one another, we spontaneously collaborated for a custom OST. Enter the eighth week, and we were ALL grinding. playtesters trying out a second build within only two days. editing team making fine tuning edits for the best script. coding. voiced lines that needed the slightest bit of tinkering.

Come 3PM on june 30th (otojam ends 6pm june 30th) and i’m coding the new music room, adding and double checking the new ost, and more. Two hours pass and it’s 5PM. We have less than an hour to submit. 5:30something comes by and with shaky hands, i release the game page and submit to otojam.

flashbacks to college 11:59 deadlines fr

On top of last week crunching, i was also dealing with extreme prerelease stress. i’ve never released a full game before. a demo, i can change. i can still tinker. this isn’t the final product. But a Full Game? My god. what if ppl hate it? or worse, what if ppl are so apathetic, they don’t even look at it and it gets sent to the void? after all, this year’s entries are stunning. they are Bold and Creative and Fun and intertwine is so….

Boring?

Some Lessons—Take Them or Leave Them

lesson 1. don’t listen to prerelease anxiety. that is the devil talking to you. if u have friends at least they will play and be nice to u. if u don’t have friends and no one plays, well it’s not the end of the world!!!! there’s always the next game. and u fckn know what? at least u Made that shit. keep ur head high, icon.

lesson 2. have fun and take care of yourself. the reception to intertwine has been amazing. i couldn’t be happier with it. but at the end of the day, the reason i look back on otojam fondly is because of the very dear friends i had to support me and have fun with me thru it all. life is meant to be enjoyed. it’s meant to be about memories, not metrics! never forget what’s truly important in life (cheesy, everyone boos me, but i’m right idgaf)

where would i be without them

lesson 3. plan. there is room for spontaneity and flexibility. after all, u can’t guarantee everything will go to plan. but with otojam being a crunch, plan as much as you can beforehand to not stress urself out during it. with intertwine, i had a somewhat outline and at least a pretty good idea of the concept, game mechanics, narrative design, mood board, etc. i had character concept art of van. if i had to do all of this during otojam we wouldn’t have made it i’m so srs. i also think when u plan as much as u can before, u have more room and time to have fun during! more polished build and more loving memories it’s a win win.

early concept art tbh i never thought it’d see the light of day

Typical Brand of Crescence Cheesiness

if you’ve made it this far ur a real one. all i have left to say is thank you for the support. while i was proud of intertwine (until the last week of otojam lol), i didn’t know what the response would be. to receive so many kind words has been unbelievably heartwarming.

as i said before, i’ve been in this game dev thing for 2 years with nothing to rly show for it. but during otojam, i could really feel the skills and experiences i’ve gained shine thru. i had a better handle on narrative design, coding things, integrating gui, and even more dev friends to talk to (thank u to all my friends who have played and messaged me U DONT KNOW HOW MUCH I LUV U). it was rewarding in a different sense compared to releasing a game, and i really am glad i did otojam to give me that perspective <3

a lot of things seemed to cockblock otojam this year (or so i’ve heard) between the sheer amount of entries (go us tho), the release of a lot of aaa otome games, and then twitter literally breaking less than 24 hours after otojam ended. even with all that, i’ve been so humbled and honored to see ppl enjoy intertwine. the comments i’ve gotten have honestly made me emotional, with many of you comparing it to games that i heavily admire and or expressing emotions i never would’ve dreamed to have been able to instill.

the otojam experience has been incredible, from the memories to the game to the reception. and i’m very grateful for all the people who made it that way! thank you for enjoying our silly little game made with our grubby little fingies. i hope you all continue to enjoy intertwine (and the other otojam entries from this year) and van!

i luv u all!

[twocubes]

I have a tarot reading request about my work + social life situation. I am basically burnt out from my job to the point that I'm unable or unwilling to accept even thanks or praise. Most of it relates to my manager, who has an imprecise yet emotionally blunt and at times exacting manner of communication that feels tailor-made to make technical discussions nearly impossible (I am a software engineer, and a fairly sensitive person. He is a military veteran who believes strongly in doing the fastest thing that works, and has been known to critique people to their face openly in group settings.) So I know the "correct" thing to do is grind up my LeetCode and start job hunting … but that would mean sitting down with a traditional data structures & algorithms text when I feel like I would much rather invest myself intellectually in my pipe dream of learning mathematics / getting, someday, to participate in the new univalent foundations of mathematics (maybe even as a programmer.) At the same time, the usual outlets I might have of getting to go for long walks / socialize on weekends feel increasingly out of reach, since I live in the outskirts of my city and the public transit authority there has been cancelling the trains for shuttle buses for most weekends, for what is going on 2 years now (at least since after the pandemic.) Having to ride buses instead of just hop on a train on weekends, for promised signal improvements that feel like they will never come, is slowly killing any sense of spontaneity and connection with casual human society outside of work for me. And even thinking about moving feels impossible (I have a housemate, my sibling, who I love dearly but I'm just not sure I want to commit to another 3-5 yrs. of cohabitation with.) Every direction in which I might reasonably turn for some vision of life outside of the cramped, artificial one where our company is super great! and everything is super exciting! despite the burnout and the constant reorgs and the whole new managerial clique we just got that's in charge of everything now, and, and, and … feels increasingly closed off. Would love any interpretation you could offer.

thank you for volunteering your fate to be decided by our still experimental divinatory process, here at dorothy twocubes' 24-hour bad advice hour™! as always, i must remind you, that this should only be taken seriously if it's good advice; otherwise, it's a joke, haha, why would you take it seriously? anyways let's get started

you seem to have some idea of what you want, and you seem to need advice regarding what to do next, so i will try with that mainstay, that good old spread that everyone likes and uses, Sun Tzu's five factors that decide battles. also i haven't done this in a while and this one i used a bunch before so maybe it's appropriate idk

alright.

Purpose: ONE OF FISHES, reversed Purpose here means what you're trying to do, your goals. If you were like, a leader of a group, it would be the reason that other people follow you. What keeps you going as like, an entity. FISHES are to do with your social position in the world, where you are relative to others in the way that it defines who you are. ONE is to do with something being complete, filled, all there, enough. that sort of thing and it's reversed

Landscape: ONE HALF OF HEARTS, reversed Landscape here means the environment you're navigating. Where you are relative to other things and other people in the sense of like, obstacles or resources or... yknow, things that must be practically considered HEARTS are to do with perpetuance; with what it is that sustains, what allows something to continue to exist. health, both literal and metaphorical ONE HALF is to do with stuff being incomplete; things that are started but not finished, things that are there but not sufficient, partialness and it's reversed

Climate: NINE OF DIAMONDS, reversed Climate here means transient stuff that affects the landscape. The mood of the world, the weather. The way the world is changing. DIAMONDS are to do with what you value, what gives your life purpose, meaning. What fulfills you. and it's reversed

Doctrine: OMEGA PLUS ONE OF DIAMONDS, upright Doctrine is what you are trained to do, what your standard operating procedures are. What you can do without having to learn to do new things. OMEGA PLUS ONE is to do with utopia. While OMEGA is to do with your ideals, that which you pursue without particular expectation that you might ever attain, OMEGA PLUS ONE is to do with the world that you might imagine if you attained your maybe-unattainable ideals. and it's upright

Leadership: EIGHT OF DIAMONDS, reversed Leadership is the strategy you chose, given all the other things here. EIGHT is to do with networks. Stuff being connected to stuff that is connected to more stuff. and it's upright

In addition, there is an arithmetic relationship between the cards:

8 + 1 = 9 this suggests that we should think of our interpretation of 9 as being a more direct consequence of the coordination of 8 and 1

I read these cards thus:

You are in a situation here where, in principle, your social position is fully secured, but your desire here is to leave this security.

The world you live in is one where people are struggling to support themselves and what-makes-them-themselves, and at the moment people are overall having to make hard choices regarding the pursuit of those precious things that make their life worth living.

You have the ability already, without having to learn it, to do what you think you would do in ideal circumstances.

So, given all this, the cards are suggesting that you should reach out in pursuit of what-gives-your-life-value and work with others; friends, acquaintances and acquaintances-of-acquaintances. In particular, the hard choices other people are making may give you some form of opportunity to change your social position.

...

Anyways, that's my reading. Maybe these cards make sense to you in some other way? Maybe this is helpful? Maybe it isn't? Either way, I claim no responsibility :p

Thanks for this opportunity to further test our experimental variant on the classic card-based rpg solitaire "cartomancy". i would be happy for feedback or a tip, but, it's also absolutely fine if you'd rather not. it's your choice, and we respect that.

[courtney-deserved-better]

How do you write such long fics? Do you have to set out time for it? Are you just very inspired? Is everything planned out beforehand? I struggle so much with longer fics and was wondering

it's a combination of a lot of things! i don't usually plan out chunks of time for writing fics, but i try to find time that i can spend writing fics, which is generally easier for me over summer/winter breaks when i don't have classes in addition to work. sometimes i'll know i have a free hour or two in the near future and decide to work on a specific fic then, but ive found that strict writing schedules/quotas easily turn into a grind for me so i write a lot more spontaneously.

i am very inspired/motivated to write the fics that i end up posting. but there are always points in time where that inspiration/motivation runs dry and i have to rely on discipline to keep working on a fic. that's why im very selective in the long fics i do choose to write. i have dozens upon dozens of long fic ideas, but i only seriously focus on the ones i know im passionate about to keep working on even when that initial creative spark isn't there any more because i care too much about the concept to not finish it.

this post explains how i plan out my long fics!

how much of a fic i post before i finish it also factors into my writing process for that fic. i was posting each chapter of slippery slopes as soon as i finished it which was fun when i ended up getting a large response to it and people wanting more kept me motivated to keep writing it (in addition to my passion for the story). but when i didn't have the time/couldn't muster up the motivation to write the next chapter for months on end, i felt very guilty about stalling the story for so long. (this was not because of any of the lovely readers! i was putting this pressure on myself!)

ive committed to not posting the courtney time travel au until its completely finished which relieves me of the pressure of writing for it frequently. but it also means i'm not feeling any obligation to work on it for months at a time when i'm not feeling motivated or being disciplined about it. which is why ive been working on it for a year and a half and it's still not even halfway done.

amicus curiae strikes the best balance between the two, with most of it being written before i started posting weekly updates. that buffer has been good for putting a healthy amount of pressure on me and keeping me motivated to finish it due to readers' responses to previous chapters. but it also gives me a lot more breathing room than i had for slip slop.

all this to say, planning out how you write your long fic is important in addition to planning what happens in your long fic. if you're struggling with long fics, i would suggest working on some shorter but still multichapter fics (a five chapter fic where each chapter is 1k-2k words for example) and experimenting with planning how to write those fics so you get a sense of what works best for you. is it more motivating to try and write a chapter every week? do you want to write half of the entire fic before you post the first chapter? does trying to write 200 words a day keep you working on your fic, but in manageable chunks?

learning about how you write best is important if you want to write more in a way that's satisfying for you! and im always happy to give (longwinded) advice from my own personal experience if anyone asks!