#any possible comment or question feel free to throw me

[rinachains]

picture perfect [pt.1]

synopsis: in which you partner up with geto and he discovers a little secret of yours.

wc: 2.3k

contents: no-curses au, high-school au; geto x gn!reader; implied stalking, reader is a bit....unwell, but both of them are pretty questionable; ig this counts as dark content (?)

a/n: comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!

“Sorry, we all already have a partner, but maybe another time!”

Sorry smiles and exaggerated pouts grace the faces around you. A more than familiar sight accompanied by more than familiar words.

How many times have you heard this sentence before, in different variations?

“Oh, it’s fine”, you mutter, voice not betraying any emotion, not wanting to draw in unnecessary attention.

You knew from the moment your art teacher announced a partner project that it would lead to this. It’s almost like a routine; everyone immediately finds their partner and you are the odd one out, standing around awkwardly until your teacher either allows you to work on your own or forces another poor student to partner up with you. What would it be this time?

There’s something wrong with you. There’s no point in denying it, you know it and everyone else seems to know it, it is simply a fact. It’s not as if you’ve done something outrageous – in fact, you try to stay as far in the background as possible, never making a scene, but it appears that whatever is wrong with you is visible even to the closed eye.

You've always had a hard time connecting with others. Something holds you back, that something remaining unknown, unidentified to you, and you can’t free yourself from its tight grasp, no matter how hard you struggle against it. You once overheard a classmate say that you’re off putting, that something about you freaks them out. (Of course they referred to you as ‘this one person, the one that’s always alone’, not caring enough to learn and remember your name.)

But what can you do about it? What can you do about this something when you don’t even know what it is?

“Partner up with me”, a low, more than familiar voice suddenly comes from behind your shoulder, startling you. As you turn around, you are met with purple eyes that make your own widen.

“Ah, sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you”, Geto apologizes sheepishly, his hands raised and a soft grin gracing his handsome face.

“Oh- no, it’s alright”, you manage to press out, your brain trying to register whatever is happening right now.

Geto chuckles lightly, the barely audible sound passing from his mouth through the distance between you until it reaches the left side of your chest, leaving behind tickling warmth.

“So, want to partner up?”

“Uhm, aren’t you going to partner up with Gojo?”, you ask carefully, confused by his unexpected request. As you peek behind him, you find Gojo with another student, pouting and with crossed arms, throwing a heated glare at Geto’s back.

“Gojo is hopeless at art and I don’t really want to fail, so I thought you would be a better choice”, Geto explains, shrugging. “Not to sound like I’m using you for a better grade, I would generally be interested in working with you. It’s good to sometimes switch things up.” 

You clasp your hands behind your back, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you think over what he said. Gojo’s lingering glare makes you hesitate. The last thing you want is to feel Gojo’s wrath, especially since you managed to fly under the radar and avoid becoming a victim of his teasing the past two years. You don’t really feel like changing that, sometimes remaining unknown being better than that something inside and outside of you becoming known.  

“Is this really okay?”

Geto sighs, apparently aware of Gojo’s silent tantrum. “Of course. Don’t mind him, he just can’t take not being a priority for once.”

You nod slowly, unclasping your hands from behind your back. “Right. Well, yeah, we can work together. I’m fine with that.” Your voice is more steady this time, hoping that you sound collected and unaffected by the whole situation.

Not like I have another choice, you add bitterly in your head.

“Great.” His smile widens at your agreement, the palm of your hands clamping at the sight. “Can I join you then?”, he nods his head toward your desk, already reaching out to grab an empty chair for himself.

“Yeah, sure…”

You observe as he puts the chair in front of your desk and sits down, your body following and carrying you to your own seat, guided by an invisible force. His scent coats you once you face him again, it’s nothing overpowering, actually subtle, but it’s all you can smell in that very moment. Woody, something fresh akin to mint, a lingering scent of the green tea that he prefers to drink during break.

Sometimes your mind would drift away during class and you’d sit here, chin rested on your fist, consumed by thoughts of your dark-haired classmate. Sometimes you’d imagine gently caressing the black, silky locks through your fingers, playing with it, relishing its softness, and helping him put it up in his signature bun.

It happened a few times that one of the girls would attempt to touch it, but Geto always swerved smoothly away from their grips, not giving anyone an actual chance to feel it. Not even Gojo. What if he allowed you to do it? To be the exception? You’d picture him leaning into your touch, half-lidded eyes fluttering as a purr comes out of his chest. But that’s all it is at the end; an image, blossoming from the deeply rooted loneliness inside you and spreading its roots through your body.

Sitting in front of Geto, glancing at him with widened eyes, makes you realize once again just how beneath him you are, despite being eye to eye. There was always a distance between you, a well guarded, endless bridge that seemed impossible to cross, and you wonder if maybe today you would be able to take a step on it, even if it’s just a singular foot landing on it cautiously.

It’s no wonder that girls and boys swoon over him – he has a natural elegance and smoothness to him that simply can’t be replicated. You aren’t an exception to his charm, and you have a feeling he’s well aware of it. His smile knowing, his eyes keen – nothing truly escapes him. Perhaps that’s what draws you to him; he sees everyone, including you.

It also doesn’t help that he’s polite and helpful, especially in comparison to Gojo. Sometimes you wonder how he can put up with his white-haired friend, but whenever you examine them together you notice how Geto would become more carefree and playful, a teasing glint appearing in his eyes, subtly joining in on his antics.

His voice is usually gentle, even when it’s laced with frustration or tiredness whenever he scolds Gojo. You ask yourself what it would be like to see him lose himself, for him to actually lose his composure, and raise his voice. So unlike his usual self, revealing an ugly side. Although, you’d never find it ugly - you don’t believe you could ever consider anything concerning him as less than perfect.

“So, do you have something in mind?”, Geto brings you out of your thoughts. You blink. He looks relaxed as always, his back slumped against the chair and arms crossed against his broad chest.

“Well…”, you begin, teeth sinking into your lower lip as you stare at the desk. “I’m not sure yet.” That's actually not a lie. You would describe yourself as a creative person, someone who has various thoughts running through their head every second, and normally you would have had a few ideas by now - but when you have Geto in front of you, your brain stops working and renders you frustratingly useless. Even if you tried to concentrate, you'd surely get distracted by him again, every little thing interrupting your thought process.

He cocks his head to the side and purses his lips. “You can tell me your ideas, you know? I’m pretty sure you can come up with something.”

Is he being condescending or supportive? You can’t really tell, but a part of you also doesn’t care as blood inevitably rushes to your cheeks. You’d take and bask in his attention, no matter how wretched it is. Perhaps you should feel embarrassed and ashamed at how desperate you are, but deep down you are long past shame.

“Mhm, you’re good at taking pictures, aren’t you?”, he muses then, spreading his legs wider to make himself more comfortable. “We could do something with that.”

Your lips crack open, a few seconds pass before they can form proper words. “I guess…they’re nothing special though”, your voice cracks slightly at the end, making you visibly cringe. Geto stares at you intently as the corners of his lips tug up, as if he found something endearing or entertaining, or perhaps even both.

“No need to down play it, we can make use of your talent.“

Talent. When did someone ever, except for your teacher who was way too pushy for your likening, refer to your work as talent? (When did someone ever pay enough attention to you to even notice your work?)

“You didn’t even see any of them”, you counter weakly, your hand coming up to rub your collarbone.

Geto raises a thin eyebrow. “Actually, I did, a month ago at the exhibition.”

Surely he can’t mean the exhibition that was held together by the photography and the art club, right? You, of course, took part of it, presenting a few of your own photographs, albeit reluctantly. How the hell did you miss him there?

“Oh”, you breathe out, trying to process the information he just casually threw at you. “Sorry, I don’t think I saw you there.” You would have never guessed that he would even be there in the first place, so even if you did unknowingly catch a glimpse of him, you probably have told yourself that you were mistaking a stranger for him, that you were too far gone in your delusion.

“It’s fine, I wasn’t there for a long time anyway, I left after seeing your pictures”, he lifts his shoulder in a half shrug, an action so simple but so graceful at the same time. 

“What? Why?” Your voice comes out louder than intended, immediately making you recoil when some of your classmates around you turn their heads to you. God, why can’t you just act cool?

A soft, honeyed laugh leaves Geto’s mouth, his eyes crinkling into crescent moons and his bang swinging against his face. You swallow as your mouth suddenly feels awfully dry. You don’t think you can compare this sight to anything you’ve ever seen, anything you’ve ever caught with your camera before.

“Well, I overheard our teacher praising you, so I thought that I should see them for myself. I definitely wasn’t disappointed.”

He averts his stare to the ground, his head tilted to the side which allows you to let your eyes wander alongside the smooth, pale skin of his strong neck.

“Honestly, I don’t know as much about photography as I’d like to, but I really enjoyed looking at your pictures”, he pauses for a moment, a contented expression taking over his face. “The way you capture everything – it’s like nothing escapes you.” Geto then looks up to you again, purple hues swirling with a strange, captivating glint. He finishes in a joking tone, “I hope I’m not freaking you out right now.”

“No”, you rapidly shake your head as you choke out a response. “No, of course not. I’m just surprised…”, you halt, trying to scramble together words to form a sentence. “I didn’t expect anyone to know about that. I never really speak with anyone about my photography.”

He clicks his tongue. “Ah, that won’t do. I guess I need to praise you more then.” Beneath your bashfulness, he catches the way you perk up, reminding him of a puppy that got praised by its owner, an imaginary wagging tail appearing behind you. He has to hold himself back to not let out a coo and reach up to pet your head. Aren’t you just so easy to appease?

“Since we’re doing this together, I want you to speak up. It’s only me after all, so we should be comfortable with each other, right?”

“Of course”, you say, “I’m sorry, it’s just-”, your tongue darts out to wet your chapped lips, his eyes discreetly following the movement.

“I think you know that I’m not…used to this.”

He hums. “I’m aware. But it’s something we can work on, don’t you think?”

“…Right”, you agree, voice almost coming out like a whisper.

“I’m glad then”, he nods, amusement tangled in his gentle tone. “And stop apologizing when there’s nothing to apologize for. You’re doing just fine.”

“Right, I’m sor-“, you stop yourself, realizing what you were about to say again. You rub the right side of your face, a strained chuckle escaping you. “I guess old habits die hard.”

Geto’s eyes flicker back and forth between your face and your body, taking in the way your back is slightly hunched, making yourself smaller than you actually are, and how one of your fingers now restlessly taps against the old, wooden desk.

And what you – usually so attentive, so observant – don’t notice is how his eyes then drift to your opened bag, revealing all the books, papers and other little belongings of yours. One item in particular catches his eye, calling to him like the apple to Eve in the Garden of Eden, promising his doom. He has to surpress a pleased chuckle – it’s a picture of him, on a day where he was out with Satoru in the city, checking out a newly released game after Satoru relentlessly begged Geto to come with him. Satoru is cropped out of this photo, the focus lies entirely on Geto.

You truly manage to capture everything, don’t you?

[shiny-jr]

POOKIE HAVE YOU SEEN THIS?!?!?!?!!

She has the guts to actually post another chapter. This was her end note.

The way she's denying all of this on broad daylight is actually horrible. She's so caught up in her own delusions that she can't discern what's right or wrong.

I'm so sorry you're going through all of this. Rest assured that you have all of our support!

It's shameful of the plagiarizer to continue doing this. To continue acting as if nothing has happened and they did no wrong when we know for a fact that they copied from four writers in total. As mentioned before, four writers which include me, and we believe there is a fifth yet there is no evidence to support that fifth claim.

I find it strange how they immediately jump to defending themself in the public eye, instead of speaking to me directly. Again, if you recall from previous posts, this could have been resolved over two weeks ago should they have just replied to my comment and explained themself. But no, they chose to ignore me, delete evidence of my comment, block me, etc and create more trouble for themself. Their actions of trying to avoid any consequences has resulted in a story deleted from Quotev, two banned Quotev accounts, and three stories deleted from Wattpad.

It's telling that the plagiarizer never once addressed the other stories that were copied and taken down, because they know what they did. They know they were caught. If they copied so many stories, it would be safe to assume that any others and future ones may also be made of stolen work. Especially when I have the evidence to back up my claims. By the way, for those wondering, my quiz was published January 20, 2023, not nine months ago. Check if you don't believe me.

As for the threat of being reported for for "bullying", I truly believe that it isn't possible. Never once did myself or mutuals send degrading and harmful comments, and I always instructed my followers to act in a respectful manner if they did choose to comment. I always specified to never attack the plagiarizer's person or identity, but criticize their actions and decisions, did I not? Besides, I do not need to throw petty remarks or rude insults when the plagiarizer's choices and words say everything that needs to be said.

Just as the plagiarizer refuses to give up, I won't give up too. I will continue to spread the word to other writers, let them know to be wary of this user, Kristynaka1, because they may just steal their work too. I will continue to work against them, because unlike them, I know I did nothing wrong.

So to my readers and followers that have supported me thus far, I must continue asking for your help. Please, do anything that you can to help take this user down. Except insult them, of course. Report anything you find, continue commenting discouragements, report again anything that works against them, reblog this post so others can see it. And of course, feel free to direct message me if you have any questions or any ideas on how to help. My direct messages are open, and I'm here to listen.

[deliciousbasementtrash]

Playing Nurse for the Batfam Masterlist

You are a nurse working for Gotham General Hospital. On your way home from work, you encounter an injured superhero. Soon, a job is offered to you due to your unique set of skills.

Jason Todd x Female!Reader

These characters are not my own they belong to DC. The only character that is 'mine' is the reader. I am going to be as nondescript as possible for the reader as well for physical attributes. This is a continuation series; I’m not sure how long it will be. Also for some reason, my replies to comments are not showing up. I’m not ignoring your comments Tumblr won’t let me respond :( But please, please comment I live for it 

Part One: Is that Trash or a Man?

Part Two: Job Opportunity

Part Three: Skip-Bo and Chess

Part Four: Dinner and a Show

Part 5: Hello Sailor

Part 6: The Patch Up

Part 7: Lunch with a Devil

Part 8: Pizza Joe's

Part 9: If I Have to Throw You Over My Shoulder I Will

Part 10: Hubba Hubba

Part 11: Honesty

Thank you so much for the positivity. I hope you enjoy my series ;)

Also if you have any special requests or questions or comments feel free to message me!

Hashbrown Cam!

[febuwhump]

I've participated in the last several febuwhumps (and a number of other whump-challenges) usually only with a goal of finished 3-5 fics because the prompts are so good that I can't manage to pare down my writing to finish more than that. Like you mentioned in a previous ask, things like natural disasters (my all time favorite) and time loops and pick who dies are a bigger undertaking than some.

And I don't even write terribly long fics. around 8-10k is my sweet spot which is still too long for like a fic-per-day challenge.

I would really like to try to finish 28 fics. It'd be a neat accomplishment. If if alright for me to do here (and feel free to ignore this if it's not) do you or any followers have recommendations for finishing a fic per day?

The closest I ever came was 16 fics and I cannot for the life of me figure out how I did that

oooh a good question!

having completed 2 whumptobers (X, X), i'll throw my best tips here, but if anyone else has any advice, feel free to reblog or reply!!

short fics - ideally, 3k maximum, short lil baby concepts that hit the nail on the head and tell the story as quickly as possible. occasionally a fic might extend to 5k, and sometimes you might come back to add additional chapters after the event is finished!

prepare in advance - if you're not a stickler for writing a fic every day, you can write some in advance, so you've got a backlog that will give you a few extra days of time during the month itself. or, have an outline or concept for each fic outlined in advance (i was very bad at this, my whumptober author's notes are full of me crowdsourcing ideas from the comments of my fics for the next day's)

writing sprints - carve out time and set short timers for writing, then actually do the writing and don't get distracted

edit last minute - all of my writing time was spent actually writing. the only editing i did was while posting; i would go through it minutes before pasting it into ao3, and do a line edit.

this is a challenge to create! not a challenge to make a masterpiece! your works of art can come after, and occasionally surprise you by appearing in the middle of the challenge after writing for 11 straight days about 11 different things

[sturnioloszn]

FADING LINES - M.S

summary; while at the club with your friends, you make the drunken mistake to call your toxic ex.

warnings; mentions of alcohol, clubbing/partying, arguing, toxic relationship.

a/n; this fic was inspired by that one scene in 'after we collided' where tessa calls hardin drunk lmfaoo. alsoo, pls feel free to leave suggestions for fics, thank uuuuu.

The music is blaring through the oversized speakers, which makes my bones vibrate to the beat of the music. I'm surrounded by a crowd of people who are sweating just as profusely as I am, and each time our skin makes contact I feel ill.

After the most stressful week of my life, my friends and I decided the best place to wind down was at the most popular club in LA; so here we are. At this current time, I had about two margaritas, three cosmos, and several rounds of shots in my system, and I was definitely feeling it, to say the least.

With the pounding of the speakers and rapid movement of the people around me, I begin to feel sick. The air is dense, and I feel the alcohol begin to cloud my brain. I try to look for my friends to let them know that I'm taking a break, but I can't seem to find them anywhere.

I eventually give up looking and spot a staircase, leading to a second floor. I make my way up the staircase, making sure to hold the bannister firmly while making my way up. This floor is more empty and secluded but still has the same energy and loudness from the bottom floor.

I whip my phone out from my purse and see it's currently fifteen minutes past three in the morning.

I try to call my friends, but it goes to voicemail each time. Where the fuck are they? While scrolling through my contacts, I come across my ex's one.

My thumb hovers over the call button before irrationally deciding to press it.

I place the phone up to my ear, and I hear it ring. After the second ring, someone picks up. Fuck.

"Hello?" I hear Matt ask over the phone. Shit, I haven't heard his voice in weeks. The last time I called him, I ended up in his bed. No, that wasn't going to happen this time.

"Heyy," I slurred, trying to sound as normal as possible but, in fact, doing the complete opposite.

"Y/n? What d'you want?" He huffs, as if I'm wasting his time. He picked up my call on the second ring I don't think I'm disturbing at all.

"What do I want? A million dollars, but we can't all have everything, I guess," I say, giggling at my own joke.

"What are you talking abo-, are you drunk??" He asks again.

"Wouldn't you like to know," I mock. I can hear him sigh over the phone and mumble something to himself, but I'm not that bothered to know what he's grumpy about.

"Why'd you call? Miss my cock already?" He snickers. Even though I can't see his gorgeous face, I know exactly what smirk is on it right now.

"You wishhhh, I'm actually calling you right now to let you know that I am happy by myself and that I don't miss you one bit. As a matter of fact, I miss your cock the least about you," I ramble as he patiently waits for me to finish slurring sentences together.

"Yeah? So why are you calling me right now?" He questions slyly.

Well, I don't actually know why I'm calling him. I mean, I do miss his voice, and his cock, and overall just him. But he's an asshole. He never treated me right, and that should be enough for me to turn my back and forget about him, but it doesn't bring me remotely close to doing that.

"Because..... I just wanted to inform you that I look hot right now, and you are missing it," that sounded convincing, right?

"You always look hot, what's your point?" He remarks, leaving my speechless. This is what he always does. He slithers his way in with compliments and cute comments, and then when he's done with you, he throws you to the curb.

"My point...? My point is that I'm not wearing any underwear right now. I'm the commander...no, wait. Commanding? No...commando? Whatever it is, I'm not wearing panties!" I giggle, leaning back on the bannister, which is overlooking the first floor.

I hear him whisper something incoherent again before he speaks up, "Why the fuck aren't you wearing any underwear?". He sounds more pissed now but I don't give a fuck, the point was to piss him off.

"Why do you give a shit? I'm not your problem anymore, Matt," I say, smiling to myself, knowing I'm getting under his skin.

"Why do I give a shit? Because you're running around LA drunk and without panties on," he says, getting more frustrated with me by the second.

"Sooo what? You scared another guy is gonna get his hands on me and fuck me better than you ever could?" I question, knowing that this comment was really gonna set him off.

"First of all, I know that nobody could ever fuck you as good as I do. Second of all, nobody is laying a finger on what belongs to me," he says firmly. The last sentence makes my heart skip a beat.

"I don't belong to anyone, Matt, especially not you," I reply, with half the confidence.

"You can try convince yourself of that all you want, baby, but you know deep down you belong to me," he whispers darkly. I felt my heart begin to beat out of my chest. I knew calling him was a bad idea.

Before I get the chance to fight my corner he speaks again, "and send me your location, I'm coming to pick you up,". I hear shuffling over the phone and his car keys being picked up.

No way. I'm out, having fun with my friends, and I am not leaving the club.

"No. You're not coming here and ruining my night," I say, getting upset.

"Either you send me your location, or I find you, and you know I will," He says. His words shouldn't affect me, but they do; and in the worst way possible, too. I squeeze my thighs together, trying to ignore the ache he's creating between my legs.

"Start looking then," I say before hanging up the phone. I take a deep breath, trying to recover from that conversation, but it's not helping, so I turn to the bar for some help.

I make my way back down to the first floor bar, where another two shots are being digested, and I'm currently sipping on a strawberry daiquiri. I still have no luck spotting my friends, but I'm sure they're somewhere.

As I'm finishing up my drink, preparing to go back onto the dance floor, I feel hand on my waist. I turn my head to find a middle-aged man with black hair staring down at me with a crooked smile on his lips.

"Let go of me," I demand, attempting to shrug him off. The audacity men have, pushing themselves onto women and then being hurt when they get rejected.

He keeps his hand firmly there when he opens his mouth to speak, "C'mon babygirl, I know somewhere quiet we can go," giving my hip a squeeze. Before I have the chance to reply, someone else does for me.

"Get the fuck off her," I hear Matt's voice quickly approaching from behind. The man drops his hand from my waist, and I swivel in my seat to see Matt grab the man by his collar.

"Don't ever lay another finger on her again unless you want to lose all ten," he says, speaking through his teeth.

Fuck. I'm glad he got the creep away, but now he's gonna take me away. How did he even find me so quick? There are a million clubs in LA.

The weirdo scurried off somewhere, and Matt turned to look at me. His eyes rake my body, drinking in how my curves look in this tight black dress before his eyes meet mine again. I took a long look at his face, too. His hair was scruffy, and his beard was grown out. Fuck, why is he so hot?

"No wonder you have pigs like him throwing themselves at you, you're dressed like a slut," he says, nodding his head towards my dress.

"I'm not a slut," I say, standing from my chair, trying not to fall over. I'm trying to look as intimidating as possible, but it's difficult when I literally have to look up to make eye contact with him.

"I never said you was, I said you look like one," he says, knowing he caught me out. He then grabs the top of my arm, "Let's go, we're leaving,".

"What? No way. I'm not going anywhere. My friends are here," I say, pulling out from his grip.

"I don't give a fuck if the pope is here, we're leaving," he says grabbing my arm more harshly and dragging me through crowds of people all the way to the exit.

At the doors, I pull away from his grasp again and spin on my heels, attempting to go back inside until my feet are suddenly in the air. Matt lifts me up and tosses me over his shoulder with ease, pulling my dress down slightly so my ass isn't on show to everyone.

"MATT, PUT ME DOWN!" I say, banging my fists on his back and kicking my feet. But nothing works. He keeps walking down the street until we eventually stop, and he puts me down in front of his car.

"Get in the car," he says, looking me dead in the eye. I look back at him, pulling the strictest face I could conjure up.

"No." I refuse completely. He then opens the passenger car door and picks me up again, placing me inside the car and slamming the door shut. He walks around to his side and also enters.

"I can't believe I had to carry you away like a child," he scoffs, putting the keys into the car.

"I can't believe you ruined my night, AGAIN," I argue back, turning to face away from him. He then tells me to put my belt on, but I refuse once again. Maybe if I keep being difficult he'll let me go.

I then feel his hand squeeze my face as he pulls it to meet his, "put your fuckin' seat belt on and behave," he says, letting go of my face and I bring my own hands to rub where he just let go. Ow.

I quickly fasten my seat belt, but I still have my back facing him. While he was driving, the car was silent, no talking and no music, just utter silence. The car was rocking me back and forth in a comforting way, making me slowly doze off, I rest my head on the window.

I'm woken up by the cold air of the night hitting my face. I don't even have time to open my eyes before I feel arms snake around my body and lift me up. I force my eyes open and I'm met with Matt's face just centimetres from mine. He's carrying me bridal style into his house.

"Why are we here? I don't want to be here. I want to go home," I mumble against his chest.

"Because I don't trust you to not choke on your own vomit and die," he says, walking through his house and making his way to his bedroom. He kicks the door open and gently sets me down onto his bed.

I watch him slink around the room, collecting a pair of sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. He then makes his way back over to me.

"C'mere," he says, reaching for my foot. I watch him unbuckle my heels and slide them off my feet. He then grabs the sweatpants and bunches them up, allowing me to slide my legs into them. The warmth of the clothes was nice, almost enough to make me fall asleep again. He then reaches for the zipper of my dress.

"No, I'm not wearing a bra," I mumble again, pushing his hands away from me.

"So what? I'm just changing you into this shirt," he asks, moving to my zipper again.

"So you'll see my boobs you perv," I reply, moving his hands away again. He stands in front of me with an unimpressed look on his face.

"Really? It's nothing I haven't seen before, and anyway, I'm not looking," he says, attempting to reach my zipper for a third time. This time, I let him inch the zipper down my body, letting my dress fall from my body.

He quickly moves to put the shirt over my head and pull my arms through the holes of the shirt. He then picks up my dress and places it on his desk, moving back to me.

"Here...lay on your side," he says, placing me under the sheets and forcing my body onto its side. As he's about to walk off, I grab his sleeve.

"Thank you for taking care of me, Matt," I say, sinking into the soft mattress.

"Yeah, don't get used to it," he says. I let go of his sleeve, and he walked away. After a few minutes, I feel the bed next to me dip and a body slides under the covers with me. I'm moments away from surrendering to sleep but awake enough to feel Matt wrap his arms around me and pull me into his body.

I feel like I'm laying on a cloud, and the warmth of his body next to mine makes falling asleep so enticing. I know I'm going to regret everything tomorrow morning, but for now, I'm enjoying the feeling of his body wrapped in mine as I drift off to sleep.

a/n; this is sooo long, and i hate the fact that it consists of soo much dialogue, but we move. anywho, thanks for reading, love youu. 💙

[livwritesstuff]

more more more divorces dads steddie!

ask and you shall receive and all that jazz :)

part 1

If someone were to have asked Eddie even just one year ago if there were any downsides to dating his ex-husband, he’d…well, he’d actually have a lot of follow-up questions because, seriously, Eddie did not put getting back together with Steve on the Bingo card of his thirty-fifth year of life (not because he didn’t want it, to be clear, but because it was so goddamn unlikely that it would be like throwing away the whole space).

Once he got through those follow-up questions though, he’d have an answer.

There is one sole downside to dating his ex-husband and it’s that Eddie still splits custody with this guy, and because he and Steve are trying to take things slow for Rozzy’s sake (and for their own, a little bit), they haven’t let her know yet that they’ve rekindled things, which means following their normal custody schedule like it’s business as usual, so finding child-less time together isn’t exactly a walk in the park. Eddie really only ever has a free night when Steve is busy, y’know, being a father to their kid, and the daytime, when Rozzy is at playdates and summer camps, is a no-go too because even though Eddie’s job is flexible, Steve’s nine-to-five is not.

Thank fuck for sleepovers, honestly, and for Rozzy being old enough to really enjoy them (and not need to be picked up in the middle of the night), because that’s been their only saving grace.

Eddie actually finds it kind of funny that there’s more logistical challenges with dating his ex-husband than with dating, like, any other person.

Eddie commented on this to Steve (in the shower together, because Rosalind is away at one of those aforementioned blessed sleepovers), and when Steve replied, “I’ll have to take your word for it, man” Eddie finds himself gaping at him because what the fuck does he mean?

It’s been nearly a decade since they split – of course Eddie’s dated since then. Sure, no one all that serious (certainly never serious enough to introduce to Rozzy), and no one he wasn’t secretly measuring up to Steve in one way or another, but still!

There's no goddamn way the same isn't true for Steve.

“The fuck does that mean?” he asks, pressing a little harder against the way Steve is leaning against the tiled wall of the shower.

Steve only shrugs.

“Steve. You can’t honestly think I believe you haven’t dated anyone since we split up.”

“I mean,” Steve shrugs again, “If someone tried to set me up I wouldn't say no, but I never really…I dunno. Nothing really ever felt right, I guess. For me, anyway.”

“But…why?” Eddie can’t help but ask, because he's feeling kind of baffled about this, to be honest. Like, for as much as Steve’s been going on about how good Eddie looks or whatever (and he can keep that up – Eddie doesn’t mind), Steve too has only gotten better to look at over the years (which, frankly, Eddie didn’t even think was possible). It's basically a statistical anomaly than someone else hadn't already swooped this guy up while Eddie was too stupid to realize what he was missing.

“C’mon, man,” Steve says, “Obviously I was hoping there was at least a ​​small chance we’d sort out our shit.”

“Oh, obviously?” Eddie repeats, but he knows there’s a big, dumb grin on his face because he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t spent the years wondering what would happen if he never got over Steve, wondering if it’d always be this dirty secret in whatever relationship he ended up in that he was deeply, madly, painfully in love with his ex.

He is deeply, madly, painfully in love with his ex, for the record, except Steve's not exactly his ex anymore (fine – it's sort of a weird grey-area at the moment), and with him it doesn't need to be a secret. With Steve, it's not a secret because it's reality, crazy as that still kind of is to him.

It's real though, and to prove it Eddie reaches up to flop Steve’s soapy head of hair over to one side and then he kisses him long and slow, except it's only kind of a kiss, because they're both smiling too much for it to really be a kiss, and Steve's hands are cool on his waist compared to the heat of the water, and Eddie can still sort of feel the sting of a hickey Steve left on his collarbone that made him feel like he's twenty years old again, and the solidness of Steve's chest beneath his hands is reminder enough that they aren't twenty anymore in the best way, and even though they lost their way a bit back there, the day is still young.

And they've got nothing but time.

[ghostflowerhotpotch]

How do you think the spider gang would react to Gwen coming out as trans? I think they'd all be supportive, but I'm curious if you have details

I am going to be honest with you anon, I had been looking at this question for weeks, thinking about it, and...I am not coming up with much.

I am trans, I don't have that much experience with people reacting to that- and I am not making any more comments about that.

Going back to the original question- I think all of them would be supportive; regardless of background or history, I feel doing anything else would be a disservice to the characters, and also, a type of story I really don't have interest entertaining, (Would Noir, being from 40s, be reasonable to have his apprehensions and need to overcome it? Yes, I am interested in seeing something like that? Personally, fuck no.)

Now, it doesn't mean there cannot be hiccups- all well intending, of course.

(Specific characters under the cut because, as always with me, it got long.)

Peter B I see going over the top; talking how brave Gwen is, and that he supports her no matter what, he also reads a book on trans people and tell hims about the people in his universe who are trans. Gwen appreciates it, but it can be uncomfortable at times.

Noir, regardless of time period, would be supportive, but mixes up terminology. The poor guy already struggles with the pop culture lingo, so throwing queer lingo into the mix can make things awkward; specially since, as a spider-man, he has defended the marginalized people of his dimension and is aware of the community, but- that community had its own terminology that may not be appreciated to day. Is a growing curve.

In my opinion, Ham is a much of a man as Bugs Bunny, meaning gender isn't as important as commitment to the bit; so I can see him busting a dress all of the sudden and saying "I get you sis." Accordingly, if asked about his own gender, he is pretty much "normally a guy, but in general whatever fits better with the scene."

Peni I headcanon as nonbinary, so I think she would be happy to meet another person who isn't cis. Definitely would have lots of talk about presentation, tricks for clothes a make up, the works.

Margo is cool about it, there isn't much to say there; she just tells Gwen that it doesn't change anything between them, and she is still invited to come for the slumber parties (Margo has thrown a bunch in the Spider-Society, because anything to spend as little time mentally at home as possible.)

Pavitr: "Oh so you are like a hijra? That's so cool!" (This is a term from a place I am not from, so I can't talk in length about it, feel free to look it up because it is indeed, very cool.) While not the same, he ends up telling more about how people in his dimension see transgender people, Gwen finds it overall really interesting.

Hobie is, of course, cool about it. He is a punk, noncomformist, and "hates labels," he could probably tell Gwen a stupid amount of things about queer history, intersectionally, so far and so forth. Despite using he/him pronouns, I believe with all my heart Hobie would not give a shit about gender roles and dress how he likes, and be okay with any pronouns. This has nothing to do with your question, but I headcanon that Hobie has been the queer awakening of many other teens of the Spider-Society as he strolls down in whatever outfit he feels like it.

Now Miles, is obviously supportive. I think he may be oblivious to many things (I headcanon him as bi for a long awhile, but I am not sure if that's something he knows already or has yet to discover,) so he asks questions, but is always respectful and has no trouble answering. Overall, Gwen thinks is cute how much Miles dotes on her, and reminding her that she will always be the prettiest girl alive to him.

Huh, I guess I had more to say that I expected, this was fun! Thanks for the question and sorry for the delay.

[spookymystery67]

I Wish I Could Walk In Heels

AN: Long time no see. This took way longer than I had hoped. I guess life is really kicking my ass right now, so apologies. I really appreciate all the support from everyone who reads/comments/likes my story. It really helps with motivation when I feel like my writing is awful. I hope you all enjoy this chapter! I'm hoping that now that we're moving on to the actual game story line that it will be easier to get chapters out now that I don't have to rely fully on my imagination. It's lacking right now lol. Enjoy!

-2004-

Chapter 19:

“You'd think you and I would have learned our lesson by now.” 

“Just help me get down, you lunatic.” You grumbled once you could look at her properly, as you were finally done spinning in uncontrollable circles.

Ada couldn't keep her composure any longer and let out an amused laugh at your predicament. She tried a few times to stop and regain her breathing, successfully doing so before she looked back up at you, only to begin laughing harder once more when she caught your unamused glare. 

She couldn't take you seriously when you were hanging upside down by your left leg from a beam, struggling to get yourself free from the tangle of wire as you growled at yourself over your failure. Your growling was turned to aim at her when she had made no move to help you down and her laughter showed no sign of slowing down.

“Ada, my love. Please stop laughing and get me down from here.” You said as sweetly as possible through your irritation. You were becoming more and more lightheaded the longer you were stuck up there and your leg was going numb from holding all your weight.

Ada had to brace her hands against her knees to stop herself from falling over due to her laughter throwing her off balance. She stood to full height as her laughter slowed down to a stop, looking at you with fondness and love in her expression.

“Of course, my love.” She moves to help carefully untangle you. “You know, maybe it's time you give up on the grappling hook. It's only ever caused you pain and embarrassment.”

“True, but it also brings you amusement.” You pointed out. Ada nodded in agreement.

“Definitely. But I don't want to see you get hurt, dear. Plus, it's been six years. It's just not meant to be if you haven't got the hang of it by now.” Ada said as she finally untangled you. She quickly caught you as you fell, placing you gently on the ground and holding you steady as you tried to get over the dizziness that nearly made you tumble to the floor of the abandoned warehouse building you both chose to practice in.

You huffed in disappointment. “But I don't want to give it up. It's cool.”

Ada smirked. “Only when you can actually use it correctly.” You playfully shoved her away from you in response to her teasing.

“Well, apparently not everyone can be as cool as you.”

Ada shook her head in amusement as she wrapped her arms around your waist, pulling you in close. “Oh hush. You are cool. Just in your own, unique, way that others may not fully understand.” She cooed.

You raised a brow, unimpressed with her teasing attempt to “comfort” your bruised ego. But, you couldn't resist her soft smile and beautiful brown eyes for long. 

Your face broke into a smile and you gave up on being fake angry with her. “Fine. I give up. Clearly the only people that can use grappling hooks are you and Batman.”

“Does Batman use grappling hooks?” Ada questioned, having no knowledge on comic book superheroes.

You shrugged. “How else does he get on top of those tall ass buildings to stare out into Gotham City and brood?”

“The elevator?” Ada sassed.

The mental image you conjured up of Bruce Wayne dressed up as Batman trying to ride an elevator to the top without being seen by civilians makes you let out a cackle. Ada looked as proud as she always did to get that reaction out of you from her stupid jokes.

“So, I was thinking.” Ada started, still holding you in her embrace. “Maybe we can take a break from work for a while. Have a little vacation for a few weeks and just enjoy each other's company.”

You looked back up at her with surprise. “Ada Wong, the most workaholic person I have ever known, wants to take a break from work?” 

Ada raised a brow and squeezed your waist tighter with a smirk. “Is that not what I just said? Do we need to get your hearing checked?” She said as she lightly flicked your ear.

You swatted her hand away with a fake glare. “Well excuse me for being skeptical. Any breaks that we've had over the last six years were the result of me whining and begging you to submit due to sheer annoyance.”

“I was never annoyed with you. I just like to play hard to get.” 

You looked at her in mock confusion. “Hmm, you weren't that hard for me to get.”

“But if anyone asks, I was. I have a reputation to uphold here.” Ada teased. She playfully booped your nose just to see it scrunch up in reaction. Her smile widened as your brows furrowed in slight irritation from the gesture. “So… is that vacation a no?”

You quickly shake your head. “No! Not a no. I wouldn't mind taking a breather. Any place you have in mind?”

Ada shrugged with a smug smirk. “I have an idea or two. But it's a surprise.” 

You had a love/hate relationship with surprises. Under normal circumstances, you hated not knowing what “surprise” someone thought up involving you. But with Ada, you tend to love whatever surprise she had for you. She never did anything that would make you uncomfortable and always took note of whatever interested you and kept them in mind for said surprises in the future. 

“Hmm, alright. Knowing you, I wouldn't hate it.” You accepted.

Ada goes to respond when a voice from behind you interrupted, making her freeze for a moment as she looked over your shoulder.

“So this is what you have been up to these last six years, Ada. Playing house.”

You quickly turned to face the intruder as Ada moved to subtly stand slightly between you and the unknown man. He looked vaguely familiar. But you couldn't quite put a finger on it.

Though judging by the way Ada was immediately on guard, you could easily assume the stranger was bad news.

“I quite honestly never pegged you as the type to settle down. You always seemed to prefer to be constantly on the move.” The man said.

You observed him as he walked closer to the two of you. His demeanor screamed professional and dangerous. The type of guy with a no nonsense and straight to business attitude. He seemed completely unbothered by your presence, or by the gun in your hand that you took out and had pointed at him as you moved to stand by Ada. So she wouldn't be in the crossfire.

The man had blonde, slicked back hair and pale skin. His age seemed to be around his thirties or forties from what you could tell. He wore dark, professional clothing and donned a pair of sunglasses that covered the color of his eyes. 

The sunglasses kind of reminded you of when Ada had worn hers back in Raccoon City, as they were completely pointless in the dimmed lighting of the warehouse you and Ada had deemed appropriate for training.

“Yeah, well, I'm full of surprises.” Ada purred dryly. Her guard was up. Her mask on. Unbothered. Toeing the line between professional and flirty. She nudged you slightly, her way of telling you to put your gun down. You listened, trusting her to know how best to handle the situation.

“I'm fully aware. Don't think I have forgotten that you had backed out of our deal, Ada. You're lucky I have more important things to concern myself with other than wanting you and your little girlfriend dead.” The man said. 

Oh. 

You should have known.

This was Albert Wesker. That's why he looked familiar. You had seen a picture of him six years ago when you were snooping through files just before Raccoon city fell. You also, very clearly, remembered that this man had wanted you dead and for Ada to do the job. You wondered if that was still the case, but decided to keep your mouth shut for the time being.

“Why are you here?” Ada questioned, wanting nothing more than to get you away from the man. But, she had to engage in conversation with him. She already knew that fighting your way out of this would be pointless and needlessly dangerous for the both of you. 

She could handle this without endangering you.

“Business. I have a job for you. One that requires your particular skill set. Despite your previous failure,” Even with his sunglasses on, you could tell from his tone alone that he was giving you the side eye. “I am willing to give you another chance. And you will be paid, of course.”

Ada raised a brow as she swayed closer to shield you once more. 

“That doesn't sound like you. Giving people second chances.” She skeptically stated. Though, it sounded almost like playful teasing with her mask on. You saw right through it.

“You're not the only one who is full of surprises.” Wesker deadpanned. He seemed bored of the entire conversation.

She smirked. “And if I refuse?” Ada seemed to already know the answer to this question, but asked it anyway.

“Simple. I will kill your little girlfriend here.” He pointed toward you, before turning back to Ada. “And then I will kill you. But you already knew this. Don't waste my time with idiotic questions. Now, what will it be?”

You didn't really like being so casually threatened. But you stayed silent.

Ada glanced back at you, who was quiet throughout the conversation, debating. While you felt you both could take him in a fight, you still had to consider the alternative. 

Umbrella wasn't at all as powerful or influential as it was six years ago. Both you and Ada had a part in that downfall. You had a feeling Wesker knew this. Was he even a part of Umbrella still? Neither of you knew for sure.

But you had to assume that he still has some influence in whatever he was a part of. Meaning he had numbers. Meaning he had back up. Of course he has back up, he's not an idiot. You likely wouldn't make it out alive if Ada refused and tried to fight him off. 

All the more reason to accept his threat/offer.

You gave her a single nod, knowing she had a similar thought process as you. She knew the best way out of this situation. She knew him better. Yet she still paused for your input, making a warm feeling pool in your chest at the fact she cared about how you felt in the situation. You forced yourself to brush it off.

Now is not the time to get distracted by the love of your girlfriend.

Ada turned to face Wesker. “We're a package deal. I won't go anywhere without her.” She said, referring to you.

Wesker looked unimpressed, but accepted nonetheless. “Very well. The payment I have in mind is more than enough for two. But if she interferes with the missions in any way, you both will regret it.”

You didn't appreciate being bad-mouthed like you weren't even there in the room to listen. You spoke up for the first time since Wesker had made his presence known.

“Don't worry, I won't sabotage the mission.” You affirmed. You had a lot more unpleasant words you wanted to say in mind, but chose to not risk the situation turning into more of a problem.

Ada nodded in agreement. “I trust her more than anyone to help me get things done.” Her sincerity shone brightly through the mask she donned for Wesker. You weren't sure he even noticed, or cared to.

“Wonderful.” Wesker deadpanned. “Shall we discuss the details.”

—

You and Ada had to endure hours of debrief from Wesker. To sum it up, the mission was to take place in a village in Spain called Los Iluminados, where you were both to obtain an object called the Amber by someone named Luis. 

You've also both figured out that Wesker is part of the Organization Ada works for. And, by extension, you. The fact that for the last six years, Wesker knowingly and purposely spent the entire time staying out of your radar left you uneasy. If he wanted you dead before, why didn't he just kill you himself? He had the power.

Not knowing exactly what he was planning left you both feeling extremely uneasy. You only had educated guesses based on his past actions to go off of.

“Hey, you know everything is going to be fine, my love.” Ada voiced after you both searched the hotel room for hidden wire taps or anything that Wesker could use to spy on you with. It was clear. You could speak freely.

Her mask was off. The true Ada you know and love returned. Sincere and loving as always, worried about you and how you felt. She could sense your unease from a mile away and wanted nothing more than to comfort you.

You took off your jacket and tossed it on a lounge chair, before facing her fully. “I don't like it, Ada. I really don't.”

She nodded in agreement. “Believe me, I'm not a fan either.” 

“The fact that this entire time we have been together, Wesker knew and did nothing? It worries me.” You said.

“Well, we both suspected he was fully aware of everything. Why is it so surprising?”

“Suspecting and knowing for sure are two, very different, things. I had a small peace of mind when I was oblivious. Now I want to know what the hell he is planning.”

“The only person who knows Wesker is Wesker. Not even his closest 'friends’ know him well.” Ada said. She walked over to the loveseat placed in the very large hotel space. She sat down and encouraged you to sit right next to her.

“Still, six years and not a peep. No threats. Then suddenly he needs you.” You ranted as you sat beside her, on her right side.

“It could be a test. To see if I can be trustworthy.” Ada stated a possibility.

You paused, thinking for a moment. “He sees you as a means to an end. This mission is dangerous. It's very similar to Raccoon City. If you fail, if you die, he'll just send another.” 

Ada smirked, knowing you were right. It does seem like Wesker. “Sounds spot on, my love. He was saving all of his threats until we were needed for a suicide mission. He is sending all of his untrustworthy people first. If we die, which he could think is likely, then his problem will be solved.” She said to you as she placed an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to her.

You lay your head upon her shoulder with a sigh. “What if we don't die and we succeed in getting the Amber? Will he actually pay us or will he kill us?”

Ada paused. “I'm not entirely sure. Though, I am willing to bet that he won't just let us go without issue.”

“So, we won't hand it over?”

“We'll decide that when the time is right.” She shrugged.

“I don't know how I feel about going to this village. From what Wesker said, it's a little too similar to Raccoon City for my tastes.”

“I agree. But we won't be there for very long. Plus, we'll be right by each other's side throughout the whole thing. You have my back, I got yours, right?”

You nodded sincerely. “Of course. I've got you.”

Ada smiled, “And I've got you.” She pulled you even closer to her, if that was even possible. While you always felt safe in Ada's arms, she always felt the same way in your own. It was a mutual comfort.

You turned into a more comfortable position to return the hug properly as you both sat there in a comfortable silence.

“Guess that vacation will have to wait, huh?” You muttered quietly into her shoulder. She hummed with laughter as she held you tightly.

“Seems like it. Don't worry, I'll make it to you eventually.”

[class1akids]

hey! how are you feeling following these last chapters? tbh i just want it to end already 😅 but i have a question for you!! as a huge shouto and todo-fam fan what would be YOUR preferred ending for them?? either as what could happen in a possible chapter for the epilogue or in more general terms what do you want for them and for shouto in special in the future

Not good. I thought I was going to enjoy the epilogue, but tbh, after this last chapter, I can't imagine reading about Eri singing or having another Sport Festival without wanting to throw my laptop across the room.

The Todoroki family is really in a tough spot currently, because I don't really see an straightforward way to satisfy all the different characters' arcs. But for me, it should have the following components:

Touya lives. This is a big one. With Tomura, you could argue that he helped bring down AFO, with Toga you could say that her heart was saved, but where Touya was left off? A death would serve no narrative purpose. Even just with an open ending, there needs to be a hope that he can get better.

Enji delivers on his "I'll watch Touya" promise. He needs to make some kind of sacrifice where he puts his family first over his hero career. What form this will take? Idk.

Shouto and Touya need a moment. That moment of connection where Touya saw Shouto as a child needs to be spoken into existence somehow. I don't expect anything as sweet or idyllic as the Tgchk or Deku-Tenko moments, but I think Shouto deserves an opening from Touya even if it comes as a sarcastic comment about favourite foods. Like something fittingly low-key that gives us a glimpse of how they could eventually down the line build something.

Enji and Rei need to take Shouto off the pedestal and embrace him as a child. Shouto getting the "family hero label" and all the expectations that come with that now needs to stop. All the kids are masterpieces in their own beautiful ways and Shouto should be embraced with the unconditional love he deserves without any pressure of who he needs to be and what he needs to deliver to get it. All the other kids too.

Public fall-out addressed. This is a bit a stress-test on a society level. I think it's a given that the Todoroki family will stand by Touya (in contrast to Toga's parents who quickly disowned her). What will happen with Touya (prison, mental clinic, house arrest, some secret rehab program) is a test to see if anything changed. Also, how the public relates to Shouto who chose to save his villain brother, who is tainted by family scandals is a big question.

In the end, I'm hoping for an open, but somewhat hopeful ending. Rei, Fuyumi and Natsuo living in the new house, Touya getting the help he needs with a rehabilitation path, Enji putting him first and Shouto while obviously will keep his family close in his heart, being freed from the "hero role" and can be free to work on his own path and joining his friends.

I don't mind if he forgives Endeavor even - I feel like that's something he may decide for himself just to be rid of the anger, but it's a difficult balance because the past cannot be forgotten. So I definitely don't want the whiplash of a sudden chummy relationship with Endeavor and Shouto being handled as Endeavor's redemption trophy.

I think also a long-overdue hug from Rei and a reason to make Shouto smile genuinely are the only things I'm hoping from the epilogue.

[frozenjokes]

i continued being unable to sleep so i continued shoving as much of your writing into my brain as possible, by which i mean i just read alllll of the mumbomaid au pretty much at once and am being Normal about it

i love them all, i love all of them so much, i'm very invested in their shenanigans, i love how almost nobody understands gender and they all misunderstand it differently

i am ALSO aro in the "no i don't have feelings for anybody, yes i would date basically any of my friends" way and everything surrounding scar's aromanticism is so well done, i kept being soo exasperated with grian and the like. the incredibly allo misunderstanding of aromanticism, and not listening when scar and cleo try to tell him he doesn't get it, i have friends i've had almost those exact conversations with (but slightly less messy because of varyious factors including but not limited to Not Being Desert Duo, Thank Fuck) just ajfhdjdhjshdjfsk

also also i love textbook monsterfucker scar and i'm convinced bdubs thinks etho grew up in a cult or some shit (i'm throwing words at this ask box like spaghetti)

anyway uh. i'm probably gonna keep wanting to say words about your fics as i keep reading them and the ao3 comment section scares me so. i will probably be back, feel free to tell me to buzz off if this is not a preferred communication method

-guy that said mapleshade=p!scar (maplescar? scarpleshade? there's gotta be something here, did i mention the sleep deprivation sorry if this is all insane rambling lmao)

maplescar is a really cool tortie kitty name I like that a lot. maplescar would go crazy. ALSO PLEASE KEEP SAYING WORDS!!!!! say words FORWVER!!!! spam my ao3 comments and I will respond to them 9/10 ten times!!!!!!! I love talking I love when people talk to me THANK YOU!!!!!! you could send me an ask every single time you finish a chapter and I would kiss you on the lips each time but my followers might be killing you with hammers so. Pick your poison.

yeah my favorite part of mumbomaid is that no one knows what a gender is and they misunderstand in all different ways you put it 100% perfectly. I also find Grian to be frustrating but he’s also a vessel to explore More Feelings and in his defense a little outside of complicated aro/allo interactions scar is a bit of an asshole. They are both assholes. Two guys they Will have their cake and they Will eat it too and they are exploding because of it. I too thank god every day I am not desert duo I! hate them. Generally though I do not feel bitter about allo misunderstandings of aromanticism because I spent 21 years of my life also not understanding. Which. Is the fault of a normative society. However. It is deeply difficult to understand the internal experience of someone who functions differently than you on a chemical level. This is a bit of a tangent but my mom and I’s ability to communicate has been drastically improved by the acceptance that I am autistic. She sees me and we reflect on my life together and it makes Sense that the way I experience the world is Different so whenever we talk about something my mom doesn’t understand in relation to me her mind is so open because she knows my perception of the world is not the same as hers. neurodivergence isn’t entirely related to queerness but it has genuinely opened up so many doors for our communication. she goes aromantic? oh yeah that makes sense. I think she catalogs it with the autism which is correct because to me autism and Every Other Way I Experience The World is related. This is say I have a very amusing experience with one of my trans friends where he was like: …so you’ve never questioned your gender,,, like…. Ever..? and I said nope. and he like couldn’t believe me. He did obviously but it’s the idea that our experiences are so integral to the people we are that it’s extremely difficult to imagine it any other way. can you tell I’m a psych major yet. what was I talking about.

I haven’t thought of exactly what bdubs thinks about etho’s past but it’s probably something like that. Deep down, it doesn’t really matter. Bdubs just wants to protect him. He’s so worried, but he just wants etho to feel safe.

lightly suggestive under the cut bc I talk about the monster fucking a little bit and I don’t know your age/if my elaboration is unwarranted I’m just talking. I’m here for a silly time not a sexy one.

monsterfucker scar is dear to me. extremely important. Grian will never be able to do to him the, frankly, deranged things he fantasizes about. they can try but the mood is going to be ruined when scar is like :( your tentacle dick isn’t real. and Grian is going to sigh with his dumbfuck strap and the blue curtains and lights they hung up to make it look like they were underwater. Their entire experience in the bedroom is going to be a series of extremely comedic extremely unfortunate events to make up for the fact that scar is never getting any fish pussy 😔 scar will be put off the mood because Grian just isn’t Convicning enough like COME ON if I don’t believe I’m going to die THEN what’s THE POINT??????? their home life is just increasingly deranged. grian has accepted that he will never be able to compete with the horrors of the ocean and you may think that’s a ‘but he’s still a little jealous though..’ but he’s not. He’s accepted it. Full acceptance. The kind of worn down you get from fishing for a mending book for weeks on end but without the agony and more just. Amused. goodtimeswithscar is going to die young and by drowning but you’d better believe he’ll do it in ecstasy.

[avonne-writes]

I was reading Broken Things and Silence again and I have some angsty questions, feel free to save answering them for a time when you’re in the mood for angst 🤭

So I was wondering if Gale in the future ever gets suicidal thoughts again, does he think about it? About the river? Does swimming ever trigger such thoughts for him? Or does the distance he put between him and his abusive parents, in addition to John’s love, heal those wounds completely? You mentioned in your reply to my comment that his parent’s treatment will never stop affecting him.

another question, Gale picks up a piece of a broken beer bottle by the bridge and puts it in his pocket, does it have any significance afterwards? Does he just throw it away later?

btw I’m obsessed with Bucky’s bubblegum toothpaste it’s so Bucky! 😍 does he ever tell Gale why he chose it? I know it’s probably because it tastes like Gale’s kisses. Sorry for the lengthy ask! 😅😘

Thank you for the great questions, I love answering these!

Yes, unfortunately, Broken Things is not the last time Gale has suicidal thoughts. In his mind, it works like a door that can’t be fully closed once it has been opened. Once he considers suicide a possible option (even acts on it as we saw), it always stays a possible option. It calms him in distressing situations, which is not a good way of coping but he doesn’t grow out of it.

Swimming doesn’t trigger those thoughts in him, it soothes him. It helps him resolve his distress in a healthy way, so it's actually good for him.

Bridges, however, do trigger him. I think he might have a problem crossing bridges on foot after Broken Things. Needs someone there with him to do it.

Broken glass also triggers him. He gets upset and restless if someone breaks something made of glass in his vicinity or if someone steps on glass shards. He flinches.

Gale heals a lot and gets better over the years, but there are lifelong effects of what he went through. Some are harmless and don’t affect him negatively - e.g. he likes sensory deprivation during sex and loves physical affection - but he has a massive issue with the idea of having his own kids, and this almost leads to them considering divorce.

Also, people are sometimes surprised how lovey-dovey he and Bucky can be even later in life, but Gale always needs it because he has a gap in his heart to fill.

Then, of course, there's the entire problem of dealing with his parents and how he relates to them over the years. He needs to talk to Bucky after every interaction to talk it out.

Regarding the broken glass he picks up, no, he doesn’t throw it away, he keeps it for years. He brings it to his and Bucky's shared apartment and hides it in his drawer. He holds it in his hand if he's really distressed and alone. I think he might keep it until Bucky proposes. The ring replaces its function in a more positive way.

Hahaha Bucky's toothpaste 😄 I think Gale knows that Bucky chose it because he chews bubblegum a lot, but they don’t talk about it.

Don’t apologize, I love asks like this so much! They let me share more about the characters ❤️ Thank you, dear!

[princessconsuela120]

Chapter one: A Well Respected Man —✧

Series masterlist

Chapter Warnings: mature themes, cursing, mentions of sex, mentions of pregnancy

Author’s Note: I’m so excited for this you guys, I can’t wait for it. Details will be up soon, explaining certain things like why Mr Garrison works at a convenience store and why they were on a science trip out of school! Keep an eye out!

—✧

“WELL, WELL, WELL, IF IT ISN’T LITTLE MISS MARSH. Back for another test?” The man at the cash register spoke, taunting me for the third time that day. Ironically enough, the face of my 4th grade teacher wasn’t the one I necessarily wanted to see at a time like this. Why I had to come to this store of all places was beside me, but hey, at least Garrison gives me half off prices. And considering this was the third test I was buying, I think I needed the boost.

He simply smirked, a smirk so evil I wanted to slap it off his face. He’d never understand, who could ever understand. He’d probably seen so many teen girls come here with the same tired eyed look on their faces, the same nervous attitude, and the same passive aggressive glare given every two seconds to remind him he was staring with too much curiosity once again. So instead of answering his question, I just shook my head, grabbing another box off the shelf and turning over to him.

“I think the first one was defective, the plus sign looked more like a division symbol. So I’m not convinced.” I said, deciding to be civil enough to speak, seeing as he was the only person who had spoken to me all day, and is probably the first person to find out that I was actually having the worst intervention of my life.

I reached onto the counter to grab the bathroom key, the one I had already used three times today, only for it to be pulled away from me. As I looked up, I met a tilted stare from Mr Garrison, who was holding the keys out of my grasp.

“That’s the third test today, mama bear. Your eggo is preggo, no doubt about it.” He taunted, spitting words at me as if they were nothing. I tried to pretend my heart wasn’t beating a mile a minute. It was probably beating even faster than that, I felt like I was about to throw it up with how high it was in my chest, but I didn’t dare admit that. See, if no one saw the fear, I didn’t have to acknowledge it either. Besides, Stan would be here to pick me up any minute, and I couldn’t risk that confrontation of how nervous I must’ve looked.

“It's really easy to tell.” A girl beside the counter said adding to the conversation, though it was the first time I had even noticed I wasn’t the only one in the store. “Is your nipples real brown?” She asked, earning a concerned look from both me and the cashier. I just rolled my eyes at the comment, holding my hand out as a silent signal I needed the key now.

“Yeah. Maybe your little boyfriend's got mutant sperms.” He teased, wiggling his eyes brows. “Knocked you up twice.”

I only scoffed, not wanting to even bring up the fact that the father wasn’t in fact my boyfriend, and the possibility of him having mutant sperm wasn’t expectantly low considering our colorful free time as children.

“Silencio, old man.” I rolled my eyes and shook my hand to remind him I was waiting for the key. “Look, I just drank my weight in Diet-Coke, and I gotta go pronto.”

He looked down at my hand, then over to the half-empty coke can in my hand, the 10th one today, I’m sure he knew that.

“Well, you know where the lavatory is.” He said, handing me the key as I rushed to the bathroom.

“Pay for that pee stick when you're done! Don't think it's yours because you marked it with your urine!” He shouted after me, but I was too focused to answer.

I still remember the day we did it, like it was yesterday. I remember all of it, every second. I remember how it made me feel, how he made me feel. I remember the euphoric feeling that came with it, the way he smelt, the way he looked. I remember the chair, it was leather.

I remember the things he’d say to me, the way he held me as if I was the most fragile thing to walk the earth. Like I was glass. Like I would break if he held me wrong.

I remember the music. Fleetwood Mac. Mostly. Dreams played almost on repeat for the majority of it. I had never even heard that song until that day, he had told me it was one of his favorites. It's one of my favorites now too.

I remember the bed. How it was just a mere few feet away from where we were, but he wanted the chair. I remember him saying, how it was closer with the chair. How I would be completely in twinged with him on the chair. Because he wanted me to be close, he craved the touch.

I remember the way he made me feel, and I hate that. Because I loved it. I loved it so much, I never wanted it to end.

And now here I was, sighing as I splashed some water in my face to dry and get rid of the dread that lingered on it. Hoping that maybe if I splashed enough water on my face, maybe the bags under my eyes would glow down the drain with all the water.

It didn’t.

I shook my face, letting off all the water that was in my hair, and grabbed both the now used test and the keys and headed back out to the register.

“What's the prognosis, Fertile Myrtle? Minus or plus?” Garrison asked. I shook the test, letting out all the air that was building up in my chest and slamming the keys down onto the counter

“I don't know. It's not seasoned yet. I'll take some of these.”

I grabbed a licorice rope from beside the counter and set it out with the empty pregnancy test box to pay.

“No. There it is,” I sighed again, scrunching up my face in disgust while shaking my head. “That little pink plus sign is so unholy.” I grumbled, shaking the test. Getting more and more violent with the shaking, hoping that maybe if I whole hard enough, it would disappear.

“That ain't no Etch A Sketch. This is one doodle that can't be undid, home skillet.” Mr Garrison said, reading my mind, the bastard. I just rolled my eyes, quickly paying before tossing the test in the trash on my way out.

Three tests, three damned home pregnancy tests, and all had to be positive. As if my life as little miss princess of South Park wasn’t enough. I wasn’t even ‘princess’ I didn’t wanna be. I guess with my perfect track record, and my amazing ability to fish my brother and our friends out of trouble, that made me a princess. I sort of was in a way, to my dad at least. His little girl, his Junebug. I could only imagine what he’s do if he knew.

I think when it came down to it, telling my family had to be the worst part. Stan would probably kill Kyle, or at least try to before getting drunk and probably end up hurting himself. My dad would most likely do the same, which would also end in him being drunk. And my mom, I could only imagine the look of disappointment she’d give me, the kind of look that sears into your heart and stabs and stabs, until you're utterly numb from the pain. Or who knows, maybe I’d never tell them.

—✧

“I’m a suicide risk.” I sauntered, mumbling into my small phone, making sure no one was around to hear. Even if I was home alone, you could never be too cautious.

“Juno?” Kenny’s scratchy morning voice rang from the other side of the phone.

Kenny McCormick, I swear sometimes he was my saving vice. He’s been my best friend since kindergarten when we used to get slushies together at the 711, until our brains were frozen and we almost puked our brains out. I could talk to him for hours on end and never get tired of it. In our group dynamic, sure we all loved each other, but when it came down to it we all knew Kyle and Stan were best friends. It was always silently known that Kenny was my best friend, Cartman floating around somewhere between the cracks. It was as if all the words I said, Kenny already knew.

“No, it's Morgan Freeman. Do you have bones that need collecting?” I remarked, rolling my eyes at him as if he could see me through the phone. I heard his airy giggles through the phone.

“Only the one in my pants.” He joked, still laughing at his own joke. I could feel my heart almost drop as I went over the words in my head. Who knew saying two words would be so hard. And to Kenny. I just stood there, collecting myself, sitting in my agony for another 20 seconds before blurting it out.

“I'm pregnant.” It was almost a whisper. Like even if no one else was home, somehow, someone would hear me.

“What? Actually?” He asked, all of the sudden eager and attentive, probably sitting up and now engaged in my words. Of course he was, this was almost as exciting as having died every day for his entire middle school experience. For Kenny, this was probably even more exciting.

“Yeah. Yeah, it's Kyle’s.” He didn’t say anything, I could see his eyes raise in my head, the one he did when she was shocked. He was probably sitting on hid bed, mouth open slightly with his eyebrows raised.

“Kyle Broflovski?” He asked, not to anyone in particular, seeing as he already knew he was the only boy I had ever done anything with.

“It's probably just a food baby. Did you have a big lunch?” He asked, making me roll my eyes.

“No, this is not a food baby, all right? I've taken like three pregnancy tests, and I am for shiz up the spout.” I rambled.

“How did you generate enough pee for three pregnancy tests?” He chuckled, I rolled my eyes. “That's amazing.”

“I don't know.” I grumbled, rubbing my forehead in frustration. “I drank like 10 tons of Diet-Coke. Anyway, dude, I...I'm telling you I'm pregnant, and you're acting shockingly cavalier.” It was quiet again, then he sighed.

“Is this actually for real? Like you aren’t just fucking with me? Cartman didn’t put you up to this did he? Or are you actually telling me the truth?” He asked, making me sigh even louder than before.

“Unfortunately, yes.” He paused again, then a nervous chuckle left his lips.

“Oh, my God.” I shook my head, slapping my hand on my side, rolling my eyes at how he was just now acknowledging it. “Oh, shit. Phuket, Thailand.”

“There we go. That was the emotion I was searching for on the first take.” I said, making Kenny scoff on the other line.

“Does Stan know? How are you not dead yet?” He asked, making me roll my eyes again.

“No, Stan doesn’t know. And I’m planning on ending this whole thing before he even finds out.” I shuddered, still afraid of what Stan’s reaction would be. Ken’s right, he would kill me. No, he’s my brother, he would never kill me. He would however, get as close as humanly possible to killing me, without actually laying a finger on me. And then he’d go and actually kill Kyle. Cause let’s face it, he’s a boy, he needs to take his anger out on someone and it sure as hell ain’t his baby sister.

“So, are you gonna go to Unplanned Parenthood or Women Now? Cause you know you need a note from your parents for Unplanned Parenthood.”

“Yeah, I know. No, I'm gonna go to Women Now

just because they help out women now.” I shook my head, still running my hands down my face. This wasn’t real. To me, this wasn’t real, this was shit. This was complete and utter bull shit that would wash away in the morning.

“Want me to call for you? I can say you’re my girlfriend, it always works?” He asked, as I shook my head.

“No, I can call, and I’m slightly concerned that you have enough experience to know it's worked before.” I glanced out my window at my truck, squinting my eyes to calculate whether or not it was the appropriate size or not. “But I do need your help with something. It's critically important.”

—✧

“You know, heavy lifting can really only help you at this point.” Kenny teased, making me roll my eyes. We were both currently trying to lift and shove the most magnificent discarded living room set I had ever seen, into the back of my truck. It was tough, and I was doing most of the work, but we were getting there. It started with the chair, just like most other things. The chair was first.

“Seriously.”

“You were bored? That's how this miracle came to be?” He asked, gesturing to my stomach that wasn’t yet pudgy. I shook my head. No I wasn’t bored, I wanted it. I wanted him, Kyle. It’s weird to say it, that that was what I actually wanted. At first I thought it was a rebellion thing but, I really liked him. I mean I really really liked him. And he was sweet. To me he was. The boy who held my hand the whole time, and made sure I was 100% okay for the whole of it. I didn’t go into it wanting to care about him, but I didn’t go into it bored either. But I came out with a baby, that was the problem.

“No. No, no. The act was premeditated.” I said, sighing with relief when we finally fit the chair in the car. “I mean the sex, not the whole, like, "let's get pregnant" thing.” Kenny nodded, having understood where I was going before we both slumped against my car, taking a break before we drove off.

“So when did you decide that you were gonna screw Kyle?” Kenny asked, wiggling his eyebrows at me teasingly. I smiled, remembering fondly when it happened.

“Well, like...A year ago, in Science class.”

I never paid attention, ever, he did though. See, even before the sex I had always been friends with Kyle, ever since we were little. Due to Stan being my brother, and Kyle being his best friend, I basically grew up with him. Class was never dull with him. He always tried to pay attention, I always tried to take that attention away. It always worked. It was the only class we didn’t have with the rest of our friends, and Kyle was unfortunate enough to sit next to me. Something was always being thrown at him, either my pen, my paper clip, I was almost always targeting him with paper planes. But it was different that day. It was the day before the sex, we had been sitting idly by in Science class when I got a note. It was odd, Kyle never was the note giver, but who was I to argue. It was a small notecard, where his notes should have been instead was a makeshift drawing of me, Kyle, and my brother. It was a remade picture of one from when we were little, me in the center with Kyle kissing my left cheek and Stan kissing my right. It was adorable, and when I looked over at Kyle to smile at it, it was almost as if he could read my mind. I think that’s when I knew, when he smiled at me.

“You love him.” Kenny said, raising his eyebrows at me. I scoffed, shaking in disagreement.

“It's... no, it's actually...it's really complicated, okay? And I don't feel like talking about it in my fragile state.” I said, pretending to be worn out and tired. Kenny and I both chuckled before he smirked again.

“So, what was it like humping Kyle’s scrawny bod?” He teased, but I didn’t roll my eyes this time. I just smiled, god the memory is still so vivid in my mind.

“Magnificent.”

—✧

One thing Kyle took way too seriously was the way he looked. His parents always coddled him with love, he could never tell the difference between seriousness and bias. So he took very very delicate pride in his appearance.

After Kenny and I had taken the living room set and successfully moved it out front of the Broflovski household, he took off while I sat outside, waiting for the Ginger’s ultimate appearance.

“Hi, how are you sweetheart.” Mrs Broflovski said, a sweet smile on her face as she excited the house, not saying a word about the full living room set on her lawn. She knew about the chaos that surrounded her sims friend.

“Mrs Broflovski, hi.”

“Oh darling you know to call me Sheila, please don’t be ridiculous.” She said cheerfully, slightly calming my nerves.

“Right, Sheila. Is Kyle home?” I asked, fiddling with my fingers, remembering why I’m here in the first place.

“He’s actually just upstairs getting ready for Basketball practice.”

“Oh okay.” She smiled again, sending my nerves.

“That’s a very pretty chair.” She said kindly, about to get in her car. I nodded.

“Yeah, yeah I thought so.”

“Well you have a good day sweetheart, don’t get into any trouble.” She said kindly, waving goodbye.

“Bye Mrs Bro-Sheila.” I said, which made her smile even more.

—✧

*cue A well respected man by the kinks.*

If there was one thing Kyle Broflovski was best at, it was his appearance, though he never would think it was. You’d think with the amount of time he took getting ready he had pampered himself to death, but he spent most of the time staring in the mirror, fixing his hair. He cared more about his appearance than most things. Due to the small mixup in 4th grade when he was deemed ugly by the female study body, he was always more conscious about himself. I felt bad honestly, I ranked him 1st on the list, but the girls didn’t listen to my bias based on my friends group. Now the poor boy spends all of his time carefully catering to each quality of himself that may be an imperfection. I don’t know why, I thought he was beautiful.

I still remember the day it happened, Kyle had me wear his t-shirt, because I had forgotten to bring pajamas with me and he didn’t want me to be uncomfortable. I think those were the sorts of things that made me like him so much, how he cared more about others than himself.

He wore almost the exact same outfit everyday, you’d think he had 6 identical orange jackets. He probably did, but that wasn’t the point. He wakes up in the morning, always showers before school. Whenever we’re at school I can always feel the dampness of his hair, which always smells like aloe Vera, in the best way possible. And I swear, he must wash that jacket everyday, it always smells like laundry detergent. He shakes his hair out, makes sure all his curls are in place, then pulls on the same outfit. His curls loosely hang out of his hat. The epitome of beautiful, who knew a boy could be so pretty.

“Hey, Ky.” I chirped, sitting in the chair that I stole.

“Hey Jo, cool tiger.” His eyes locked with mine and I couldn’t help but look down, chuckling nervously which he didn’t yet pick up on.

“I swiped it from Ms. Rancik's lawn.” I said proudly, making Kyle smile back at me. “My, your shorts are, like, especially green today.” I said, making Kyle chuckle as he looked down at his basketball shorts.

“My mom uses color-safe bleach.” He said awkwardly, making me nod.

“Go, Sheila.”

“I'll tell her.” He chuckled, smiling slightly as he looked at me.

“I got,” he gestured in front of him. “I’ve got basketball so…” I didn’t let him finish, figuring I’d rather rip off the bandaid quickly then drag this on any longer.

“So guess what…” I asked, making eye contact again. He raised his eyebrows, chuckling nervously at my own nerves.

“What’s up Jo?”

There it was again, that same silence that came before I told Kenny. It was almost painful to tell him, I could feel his stare stabbing into my chest. So I took one last deep breath, then I ripped the bandaid.

“I'm pregnant.”

He did say anything for a bit, just stared at me blankly while I chewed on my lip. He pointed to himself, and I nodded, confirming it was his. I could feel the shock he was going through. I expected him to run. I’m not sure why but I did. He didn’t run, instead he raised his hands, only to slam them back at his sides. Then he ran his fingers through his hair, and began to stutter.

“W-What should we do about...?” He asked, stuttering. He was petrified, Kyle was rarely petrified. And he was stuttering, Kyle could always keep his composure, in fact he articulated his words so much you could almost always hear every single detail of a word he said.

“Well, you know, I was just…” I shook my head, shifting in the chair. “I was thinking I'd just nip it in the bud. You know, before it gets worse. Because they were talking about, in health class, how pregnancy...It can often lead to an infant.” I remarked, and Kyle nodded along, almost still too stunned to speak.

“Usually, yeah. Yeah. That's what happens when

our moms and teachers get pregnant.” He said, making me nod. Then the silence came back, awkward silence. I hated it, that never happened between Kyle and I, but then again neither did this. He seemed too stunned to speak, to look at me even.

“So you're cool with that, then?” I asked, making him quickly jolt to look up at me.

“Yeah, yeah. Jo, I mean, you know, just, I guess…Do whatever you think you should do, you know?” He said carefully, and I could practically see the sweat dripping down his forehead. He looked at me, I looked away.

I know it shouldn’t have, but his okay mess with the fact I was getting rid of it make me sort of disappointed. We were to young yes, but I guess I kinda wanted him to fight me on that. You know, that maybe he’d want to keep it, just because it was something that would bond us for life. I know that sounds stupid in retrospect, we were 17, 18, we weren’t ready to be parents. I knew he was right.

“Well,” I said, getting up from my chair. “I'm sorry I had sex with you. I know it wasn't, like, your idea.” I started collecting my things, Kyle still staring at me in shock.

“What? Whose idea was it?” He asked, but I ignored him. Honestly I wanted to be anywhere but here right now.

“I'll see you at school, all right?” I gave him a pat on the back and began walking back to my truck. A pat on the back, I gave him a pat on the back as if I wasn’t pregnant with his child.

“Whose idea was it?” He mumbled quietly, before I got in my car, and drove off. The shame was on me if I thought that that was the hard part.

[chaoticbardlady99]

Darling, Never Stop Haunting Me (Spawn Astarion x F! Ghost Reader)

Chapter Five: Nisi Pellis Nostra (SOS)

Synopsis: The Lich reveals his fate for you and your 'higher purpose' after a series of experiments that leave you feeling hopeless. The Spawn Monster tries to reassure you that everything is going to be okay.

CW: Mentions of gore, mentions of non consensual surgical-esque procedures on Ghosts, basically I've been watching a lot of Criminal Minds lately, being changed against a character's will.

Disclaimer- put together the picture for the banner, but I do not own any of the pictures. Birdie's 'image' is a stock image. I will not describe the readers body in detail- she is just merely on the banner for ✨drama✨. I believe the picture of Astarion is from @cheekylittlepupp . And then the symbol of Orcus in the back is a free image off the internet.

Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are always appreciated! Thank you for all your support and love!

Chapter 4 : Chapter 6: AO3

You know you have only been in the liche’s ‘care’ for a little over 24 hours now, but it feels like you have spent forever and a day down here already. 

 Yesterday he had performed multiple experiments on you by seeing how your body responds to various types of magic. You are extremely sore

  It’s just you, Leon’s desecrated body, and the Spawn Monster. You’ve had a few exchanges with the creature as it tries to tempt you into conversing with it. 

 You want to, but it’s too confusing and makes you feel sick. 

  Aurelia had been Cazador’s first spawn and she had fought so hard to keep him from being angry with her while Astarion turned towards malicious compliance. 

  After Aurelia came Astarion and then Dalyria. Dalyria has always fascinated you with her brilliance and pension for medicine as well as modern tactics. She did not believe in the Gods nor that they would save her so she was determined to save herself.

 Violet and Yousen became spawn within days of each other and fought like cats and dogs- neither one of them willing to be the Scratch of the duo and keep the peace. You did enjoy their pranks on each other (when they weren’t ridiculously cruel). 

 Petras had been maybe two, three decades before Leon- who only became a part of the coven a decade ago. Petras' dullness had driven Cazador, Astarion, and frankly, everyone mad. You have never met someone so dense in your entire existence, but at the end of the day, he was always good. He tried to keep his intentions as pure as possible and despite Astarion’s disdain for him, Petras did adore him and considered him his brother. He had been the hardest one to crack regarding Astarion’s location in Baldur’s Gate that day so many months ago. 

 “What does dick cheese mean?”

 It’s a fair question that not even you can really answer- to be frank, you had kind of panicked when Leon had turned on you with his hackles raised. You just threw out some words to break up some of the anger.

 You want to look over at the other siblings- you are desperate to be able to look over and see them all separated- somewhere far away and happy. 

 Somewhere safe where Leon’s grief could never- would never- touch them. 

 “I honestly don’t know,” you whisper, “I was just throwing out words.”

 “It was clever,” the Spawn monster says, “it made me think of a STI. 

“Which Leon has been for a while.”

  You snort and look over, only to look away again. Your heart is truly broken for them. You will never complain about being stuck as a Ghost again- you are very very lucky.

  Astarion will be devastated, despite what he would lead others to believe, he does actually care about the individuals he suffered alongside with in Szarr Palace. He will be especially upset to see Dalyria, the one he does consider a sister through and through, is gone. He will even grieve Petras who he pretends he is incapable of tolerating. 

  You shake your head- yes, he will grieve, but you will make sure he doesn’t fall to his knees and let life guillotine his heart. The survivors' guilt will not win- you will make sure of that- and if there is a way to save the Spawn, they will find it. 

 “Is it that bad?”

  The sadness in their voice is still recognizable through the heavy slurred speech. You nod numbly. There is no point in lying. 

 “I’m sorry.”

 “Whatever for!?”

  This time you do look over and face your fears- looking her in her eyes (well Aurelia and Violet’s eyes). It’s odd how you can see how the five distinct personalities are still there all from a look or a change of posture. 

 A sudden burst of pain causes the creature to keel over and cry out- the stitches glowing with an angry red color. 

  The monster looks you in the eyes with tears. 

 “We’re a monster,” it says, “we should have stopped Leon the moment Yousen and Aurelia went missing. We suspected, but thought it was too good to be true. Leon couldn’t do this to us.” 

  You shake your head aggressively, trying to will your own tears away. This is not about you- you're not the one who has had your autonomy ripped away time and time again. 

 “You will not apologize to me for something out of your control,” you say softly, “Leon made his own choices. I wish they hadn’t involved any of you.”

 “We know,” it says, “we appreciate it.

“And personally,” this time you know it’s Dalyria, “I am grateful to you for taking care of Astarion. You need to promise you will continue to take care of him.” 

  There is a finality in their voice that causes you to release a choked sob. They don’t plan on ever being saved or fixed. 

 “Birdie, you must do us a favor.”

   “Okay?” 

 “You have to destroy us.”

 “What!?” You hissed in surprise, “no!” 

 “Please,” it begs, pleads, a tear going down Dalyria’s face, “it hurts- he will continue to refurbish us like he has been doing. The remainder of our bodies- they have been scattered around. We will never be able to rest while he continues to resurrect pieces of us at a time. 

“Last time, Petras was doing all of the talking until he became annoyed with Petras. That’s why his lips are stitched shut with silver- any talking will make his pain worse.

“Don’t leave us here to suffer.” 

 “But what makes you so sure I’ll be out of here anyhow? Maybe we can find a way to save yo-“

 “No,” it says, “there is no way to undo what has been done. 

“We can still feel his emotions to an extent. Half hysterical and racing to get here. Nervous, scared that he has lost you permanently. Cazador is dead, but our own connections are still there- faint, but there.

“Promise us that you will destroy us- every last piece.” 

   You take a shaky breath in- maybe you should also be concerned for your own survivor’s guilt. 

 “Okay,” you whisper, “I promise- if it has to come to that, but don’t give up hope.” 

  The sad smile is unsettling and full of rows of razor sharp teeth- you breathe unevenly and try to calm the galloping in your chest. 

 It may not matter that you know who they are- it’s still terrifying and unsettling to see them this way. 

 Clanging from down the hall- you can hear the Shadar Kai soldiers coming towards you. You wish you could turn invisible and hide, but whatever magic is around your cage is preventing you from being able to cast anything. 

  The lich walks into the room- an unsettling smile across his dead, rotting face. He stares into you as if he can see your entire existence. It’s been one whole day of not being bothered of him- you knew becoming complacent was a bad idea. 

  The Spawn monster protests and slams against the cage- trying to keep the Lich from reaching you, but it’s too late. Your body feels like jelly and you begin to unravel to the floor- your form is absolutely paralyzed. 

 “Leave her alone!”

 “SILENCE!”

   A ripple of red, angry magic goes through their body and the scream that echoes through the room makes you cry and your heartbreak. They just wanted to help you- you will find a way to help them. This will not be the end for any of you- you are determined to save yourself and them. 

 You may not be very big Birdie, you think, but apparently you are pretty strong for whatever reason and you know how to use Bardic Magic to an extent. You know how to use Vicious Mockery and you have a decent amount of cantrips like Firebolt and shocking grasp. You just need to break whatever hold he has on your body. You can do this Birdie- you badass bitch!

 You continue to hype yourself up in your head as they carry you off down the hallway by your limp limbs- at least it doesn’t hurt. 

  You focus with everything you have in your body and begin to chip away at the grasp the liche has on your body.

 “How very fascinating,” the lich muses as you are laid down on a stone slab, “you are rather strong and you think rather quickly on your feet for someone who died so young. I wonder what secrets I will find inside you…”

  Gods no. This isn’t happening to you- the knife begins to cut into your abdomen like your skin is butter and it’s horribly painful- the blade coated in silver and silver itself. Even if you do regenerate (hypothetically you should) it’s going to hurt and take a lot longer than you would have hoped to heal.

 You can feel the lich enforce his will on you and you are forced to lay there quietly- entirely unable to move and no matter how much you try to fight against his grasp- it doesn’t happen.

  He pulls out each of your organs- inspecting them and it hurts. You can feel him put your heart in other, dead bodies- seeing if the body will come to life. It does- momentarily, but then you begin to choke and the body dies and your heart is returned to you.

 You have never been touched before by anyone and now? Now you just feel violated. You stopped keeping track of what he was pulling out, putting in and out of other bodies before putting back in your own, and even scooping out ectoplasm surrounding your organs. It all feels unnatural and painful- you zone out.

 You are there for hours- you know because you’ve been counting the seconds in your head- trying to focus on every passing second instead of the grubby, evil fingers tearing you apart and putting it back together. 

  You give up- unable to justify trying to live through this if this is the existence you are doomed to. 

 For once, you don’t want Astarion to come. You don’t want him to see you this way and you hope he’s turned tail and ran away instead of rushing into danger to save her. Your tears begin to fall again- the Lich pulling out one of your eyes, commenting how fascinating it is that you are still able to produce tears without it before putting it back in to mend it back together. 

 You drift off into a land where this had never happened. Maybe a different time period, an alternate universe, where you are playing at a Tavern, a young bard trying to make a name for herself. A beautiful, cocky Magistrate walks up to you with life in his cheeks and blue (or maybe green?) eyes. 

 In this reality, Astarion courts you, adores you, and neither one of you is horribly traumatized to get there. You live a happy life together, you go on adventures, own a home together, and maybe even one day have children together. 

 Your parents would have adored him- you wonder if his would have adored you?

 “Lubanac is going to be most pleased,” the lich hums, “you are going to be the perfect little creature for the Morbid Maze. I know exactly what I am going to turn you into!

“Ah here it is,” the Lich menancingly smiles at you and your own scream of terror reaches your ears, “a Necroplasm! It will take another day since I have more tests to conduct, but you’ll be one of these beautiful creatures soon, my beautiful little Ghosty.” 

  It’s just a blob of ectoplasm and bones. You whimper and begin to shake.

 “Oh no, no, no,” the lich strokes your face, “do not cry little one- you won’t even remember any of this once I change you.

“It will all be over soon,” he coos, “and in the meantime- you are doing an honorable service for our Lord Orcus and his priest, my leader, Lubanac. You will have a higher purpose once again- you will protect the morbid maze and fight alongside Orcus. What a boon- I’m almost jealous.” 

  It’s a fight not to continue crying- not wanting to give the lich more curiosities to poke around with or a reason to turn you earlier-  so you do the only thing you can think of doing. 

 You fall asleep.

                                       ************************************************

  You can feel all of your organs back in the right place within your body, but you feel entirely ruined to your core. 

 Astarion would never want you this way- used and rearranged, ectoplasm happily consumed by a lich who was constantly telling you every ‘fascinating’ detail he finds in your form as he worked. The lich at least gave you a bit more insight into your own condition- technically Donella did succeed in changing you, but she didn’t know how to resurrect you so that’s why you are stronger than a normal Ghost- you harbor some Spawn strength. 

 You went from being a Ghost, a Cat, a Person, and then a Science Project for a Necromancer. How fitting. Next? A necroplasm- unable to be saved or changed back to your original form. 

 “Are you okay?”

   You look numbly in the direction of the Spawn Monster and their eyes look worried for you- your eyes are filled with angry tears, you can barely see them through your vision. 

 “No,” you choke, “I feel violated. I feel….

“I feel unworthy,” you whisper, admitting it outloud, “I feel disgusting.” 

 “We understand,” the spawn monster gives you a smile, “but you are going to get out of here and that will never happen to you again.”

 You just shake your head, crying harder.

 “I don’t know if I care anymore,” you sob, “I don’t want to go through that again- I can’t. He’s going to change me into, into-“

  One of the creatures he showed you slimes by and it eats up the dripping ectoplasm on the ground like a starved dog- bones being stretched apart. The creature looks you in the eyes as if it knows and it lets out a wailing scream. You barely scoot out of the way in time before it’s limbs make it through your cage- a starving look in it’s eyes.”

 “Shhhhh,” Dalyria’s voice soothes you, “you won’t go through it again- you will be okay. He’s coming as fast as he can.” 

   The spawn monster, as horrific as it is, leans up against the part of the cage that is close to yours- offering a hand. You crawl over and reach for it like a child- the creature, the remainder of people you care for, try to soothe you by running their thumb over your hand and keep telling you it’s going to be okay. That you are not allowed to give up any hope. 

  And that Astarion is on his way. 

*******************************************************************

Author note: Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are always appreciated! Please let me know if you would like to be on the tag list! I am using the Ghostwalk campaign for NPCs, locations, etc. It is a 3e Campaign and doesn’t mirror 5e Ghosts. I have tweaked some of the ghost powers and such for the sake of the story, but if you would like more information on Ghostwalk and the City of Manifest, there is a PDF online that is free to download :)

Tag List: @n3rdybirdee @fandomarchiveilyd @dajeong @hotmesshobbit @godoffuckedupcats @bitchstarion @hereliesblackdragon @pebble-bb @preciouslittlebhaalbae @lavvyan @beepersteeper

Special thanks to @davenswitcher thank you for helping me brain storm 💜

[brandileigh2003]

@flashfictionfridayofficial

Feel free to give me kudos or comments on AO3 too

Fandom: marauders (harry potter). Characters: remus lupin, Lily Evans. Wc: 997

CW: (+ other things that would be in tags)

talk of injuries, mental illness. Remus is trans. Post-prank. Pre-wolfstar relationship. Lily & Remus friendship

***************

“Remus?” Lily whispered, shaking his shoulder lightly. 

Remus sat up with a gasp. “Hm?”

“Why aren’t you in your room? It’s close to… Your time of the month. You have to be hurting sleeping here,” Lily sat down beside him, eyes furrowed in concern. “Were you crying, love?” 

“Um. I just. I can’t be around him,” Remus replied. He tried to ignore the crying question as well as the one about pain. Because the truth was, Remus hurt so badly. Every single joint was like it was on fire, and his stomach hurt because not only did the universe see fit to have him be turned into a werewolf before his fifth birthday, it had him born into the wrong body, and lately his period seemed to want to line up with the moons. Remus wanted to scream, or punch something. Better yet, punch Lyall. He didn’t think that Remus fully understood what it meant to take testosterone potions and permanently change his body. 

Lily’s compassionate voice broke him down and he finally told her everything about the month prior, of Sirius betraying one of his biggest secrets. He was honestly surprised that Snape hadn’t told her yet, but he supposed since the mudblood incident, she hadn’t given him the time of day. Which; good for her. He had hated seeing her in pain watching her oldest friend get in deeper with the other dark Slytherins, and although he didn’t want her to be in pain, being close to him would only get worse as the war loomed closer. 

“That’s… Oh Merlin, Remus. I am so sorry,” she said, wrapping her arms around him and rubbing his back gently.

He was crying again, and he hated himself, more than ever. He felt tired and weak, physically, mentally, emotionally. Plus  any other way that one can just feel ready to just lay down and not really care if they ever got back up. 

He wiped his face but winced at the still tender wounds on his face. Which was yet another thing that he would always have to carry from that night. The wolf was more angry than ever when he thought that he would finally have prey, not be hungry for once, and took it out more than usual on Remus. His hip still wasn’t right, and his face now was bisected with what would certainly turn into scars. 

“I was going to finally tell him, Lily. How is that for life just not letting me have anything good,” Remus finally said. Lily was one of the only people that he had confided about his feelings for Sirius. And what made it all so much worse is that Remus had been nearly certain that Sirius also had feelings for him too. But Remus should have known that he shouldn’t hope for anything. Instead of what he thought might be a new relationship, he now felt further from Sirius than ever. 

“Want to know something even more fucked up?” he continued, laughing hollowly. “I still love him. I want to forgive him. I want to run to him and throw myself in his arms. I want to write off everything that he did as pressure because of… Well. Everything with his family. You have heard enough that I am sure that you can imagine.”

“Remus, love. Nothing can excuse that betrayal. I know that things aren’t easy. And that Sirius struggles with mental health. But, he is supposed to be your best friend. His actions could have caused three deaths. Sev, James and you. Because they would either put you in a camp for dangerous creatures or execute you,” Lily said firmly but kindly. 

“I still feel guilty though. I should just let it go. It’s breaking James' heart every time he has to leave one of us to spend time with the other. Because I just can’t be around Sirius. Classes are hard enough. I go to the dorm as little as possible. I’m afraid I’ll just lose it. And any action would be something I regret. Yelling, forgiving him, kissing him. Nothing feels right. But if I just let it go back to normal, he won’t be so sad.” 

“This is about you though Remus, you can’t put everyone above yourself,” Lily said. 

“But if I don’t I will lose all three of them. James is his best friend, his brother, his soulmate, his… something. But. Eventually James will choose him. Or I will push James away so that he will be happy too. Because him and Sirius need each other. And Peter will do whatever James does.” Remus said. He had already spilled out everything else, so might as well get into his deepest fears too. 

Remus didn’t feel like arguing. “Everything hurts Lils. It all feels washed out. Dull. Food doesn’t taste good. I think I’ve forgotten how to smile. I can’t focus on homework, and I honestly don’t find myself caring either. I either can’t sleep or sleep too much. Even colors feel muted. I don’t even know how to explain it.” 

“Remus. You’re worrying me. This sounds like major depression,” Lily was playing with his fingers. 

“I’ll be okay, I promise. I am sorry, I shouldn’t be putting all of my problems on you. I was just…” Remus waved his other hand around uselessly. 

“Remus. I want you to always talk to me. I’m glad that you trust me. But. I think that you need help. Will you come and talk to Madam Pomfrey? Honestly, if you don’t, I am worried enough I will do it regardless,” Lily said, nervously. 

Remus didn’t have the strength to fight her, so just meekly followed her through the hallways and she sat with him while he tried to explain it all to the nurse. Pomfrey gave him a big hug and said that she had a few things that might help. 

Remus managed a small smile of thanks and could only hope she was right. 

**I do not agree with jkr nasty views. I love taking the characters and making them queer 🏳️‍🌈

[sweetsundazed]

gradient maps - literally just my thoughts

if you've been on editblr at all you're bound to know em. in this post i aim to share my personal thoughts and critiques on gradient maps, as well as possible ways to utilize them in your works

disclaimer that this post is *not* targeted towards anyone in any way, shape, or form! i'm simply stating my opinion. if this is how you like to edit that's perfectly okay, and you don't have to change that

i'll begin by explaining some issues i personally see with them.

i find that a lot of edits seem to just use the gradient map itself without any other changes. this becomes an issue when people are creating gradient map edits that have very low contrast as it prevents people who are visually impaired from being able to see your edits.

something as simple as changing the blending mode you use can easily help you use a gradient map much differently. in each blending mode variation i used only *one* layer and simply just changed the mode and level of opacity.

gradient maps can be *very* useful in edits, and using different blending modes with those gradient maps opens up opportunity to more interesting colorings. below i have examples of psd colorings ive made all using gradient maps in different ways

while it is undoubtedly true that not every editor uses photoshop or photopea or a program that has the kind of adjustment layers those programs use, most do have gradient maps. so it makes sense why a lot of editors would rely a lot on them.

some of the blending modes i personally find the most useful (and used myself in the above colorings) would be: divide, soft light, multiply, luminosity, and color.

with divide you have to make some... kind of ugly gradient maps. but when you switch the blending mode to divide and set down the opacity a bit it turns out looking really nice! with divide its important to note that your gradient map will be using the *inverted* colors of the color scheme you're going for. that is why the gradient maps will look strange

soft light is much more subtle in the way it colors your image, therefor the gradient map you use may want to be very dramatic in the colors it uses. the soft change in color is perfect for when you want a more subtle change to more closely bring the different colors of the edit together. if you want a more dramatic light, its sibling hard light can do that job for you.

i find multiply works better with darker colorings, i usually lower the opacity while using it as well. i tend to use a broader range of dark to light colors in the gradient map i'm using with multiply

luminosity can either have a very dramatic, or very subtle effect depending on the colors you use. i encourage you to play with this mode a lot! it can create some interesting effects that i don't really know how to describe

color does as it says it does! it changes the colors of the image to the colors on the layer. it doesn't change the saturation of the colors, however. it's essentially like if you hue-shifted them. you can use this to create very drastic changes in color, or to establish what colors you primarily want to be in your coloring

i don't really have much else to say other than to have fun with it! i just pointed out different ways to use gradient maps as a tool for your editing, if you decide to follow my advice or not is totally up to you. if you have any questions or comments feel free to shoot me an ask or throw it in the reblogs and i'll answer to the best of my ability. happy editing!

[askhakukusanagi]

Welcome | Master Post

Welcome to the ask blog of Haku Kusanagi. Don't worry. I kept your throne nice and safe, princess.

Ask Box Status: Closed (Indefinite Hiatus ;^; )

Please see below.

Moved to @askthehospitalghost

Note: I try to be very thorough and really research my responses, so replies may be slow. In addition, if I believe you may have more than one ask. I will likely do one, then come back to it after answering a few for other users, so it stays fair <3

Rules:

NSFW CONTENT IS POSSIBLE AND ALLOWED. MINORS DNI WITH MARKED POSTS.

You can ask almost everything, but I reserve the right to refuse an ask if it makes me uncomfortable. That topic will then be added to the rules when found.

Mun is musically trained and can read sheet music! Music questions are allowed.

Some questions may teeter upon headcanon territory. Theories are welcome, but I'll be throwing clues as to what Haku theories are being used. Like a little game.

If you have an ask blog or oc, you can set up an emoji with me so I know who you are without having to reveal your blog. Please do not use someone else's emojis and impersonate them.

This blog functions as multiship and welcomes oc x Canon shipping. Though, if your character has not been interacted with before, or I do not have enough knowledge of them to go off of, we'll assume acquaintances.

Please feel free to ask him anything, no matter how silly! However. If you wish for a full post, please send it to the ask box. Comment questions will be responded to with comments. <3

Rules are subject to change.

Blog ran by a silly user. It's a secret. ;)

Let's see how long until y'all figure it out.

They/Them works just fine, any names work. <3

Any messages from the Mun?

《Hey folks! It's me. I'll be a weeeeee bit slow at first as I go through these first few posts. We got a lot of asks in one short burst, so, I'm setting them up to queue, so I don't flood the important tags. <3 I have officially seen all the asks in the box, and only have a tiny few left to answer. The rest are on the queue, waiting to go out. Also, feel free to ask Haku anything!! I'm happy to see requests of all kinds. <3》

Update, December 15th:

《Hi everyone. I'm so sorry for the delay. As of the tenth, my ask box is officially closed. I will be working on responding to everything still in the ask box, and then, I will be officially moving completely to my oc account. At some point, I do want to come back here, but, until then, writng ny oc is a lot easier. I consult Danie's posts with the voice lines like a holy text. I do love Haku a lot, but Irina is one of those characters that I don't have to think as hard to write, because what I say is truth as her. There's no Canon to follow for her. Or not as much, if it makes sense. I will be starting to answer everything as Haku too. Hooh boy, so many asks. Thanks for sticking with me for so long!》

See you soon!