#any suggestions and tips to make it look better are definitely accepted

[humblepoet26]

Okay, I did promise to show y'all. I know it's not the best but with what I had I think I did alright.

[ariascoven]

⟡ STRESS RELIEF

PAIRING : alice wu-gulliver x reader

CONTENT / WARNINGS : established relationship. gender neutral reader. petnames (love, darling & babe / baby). smut. semi-public sex. fingering. (alice receiving)

WORD COUNT : 1.5k

A/N : can you tell i like the idea of giving head while your partner works... next alice fic will be better, i promise 🫶 alice wu-gulliver save me with your strap please and thank you

MY MASTERLIST

Going to visit your girlfriend in a new job wasn't news to you. In just a month, you ended up losing track of how many jobs she got fired from. One thing that impressed you more than Alice’s bad luck with jobs was definitely her luck in finding new ones. The bell above the door rings as you swing it open, signaling that someone just entered the small record store, decorated mostly with plants and vinyls on the wall. You let out a hum of approval, looking around what you wished was your girlfriend's next — and first — permanent job. She watches you from behind the counter with a soft smile, leaning lazily over it. You smile warmly as you make your way towards her, clearing your throat. “Um, excuse me, young lady. Are there any employees here with beautiful eyes and a gorgeous smile?” You ask, putting on a playful voice, your display of silliness eliciting a chuckle from her.

“Hmm, I'm not sure… but there's definitely a customer right here in front of me with these exact features.” She walks from behind the counter to stop in front of you, the height difference forcing her to tilt her head back to look at you properly as you tower over her. You smile, taking her face into your hands and planting a quick, sweet kiss against her lips. “Am I allowed to do that here?” Your voice is barely above a whisper, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she smiles and nods. You kiss her again, smiling at the faint taste of coffee on her tongue. You used to hate coffee at some point, even the thought of it made you feel sick. But after dating her for so long, coffee stopped tasting like coffee and started tasting like her, like your Alice. “So, you work here by yourself?”

She hums, glancing around the room. “It's nice, isn't it? It's quiet and cozy, the customers are really nice, and I get to listen to music all day.” You beam at her words, holding her tightly against you. Leaning down to kiss her nose, you search for her eyes. “I'm proud of you, love.” The words make her heart flutter, a faint blush coloring her cheeks and the tip of her nose. However, you know your girlfriend. Seeing right through her smile you can sense that there is something wrong, but you don't know what. You frown and she notices, her smile fading. “Baby?” Alice mutters, eyebrows furrowed in concern as she brushes a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“Is something wrong?” You ask directly. “I know you, Alice. Something’s bothering you.” You watch the shorter woman pause briefly before letting out a sigh, accepting the fact that she couldn't possibly hide anything from you, ever. You're too perceptive, too caring. She grabs your hands, tracing lazy, imaginary circles on your skin with her fingers. “Nothing happened, you don't have to worry, alright? But everytime I get a new job, I just know that I’ll get fired again. I never know how long I'm going to last. And I like it here, you know? Wish I could stay, but you know my luck.” Your bottom lip sticks out in a sympathetic pout at her words, leaning down to give her a kiss. She kisses you back, hands gripping your hips. Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise as she pushes you suddenly, pinning you against the counter. Your hands slide down to her chest, casually resting there. “Maybe… I should help you get your mind off that, right? Just a bit of stress relief.” You offered, wiggling your eyebrows suggestively as you playfully slid your fingers along her neck. Alice shakes her head, laughing in amusement. “I’m working, babe. You can't just snatch me away to fuck.”

“Can’t I?” You hear your girlfriend yelp in surprise when you grab her hand and drag her to the back of the store. The front of the store is already small, but somehow the back is even smaller, and almost empty, if it weren't for a small desk and an old couch. You grin. Perfect. You sit Alice down, taking the place next to her and kissing her hungrily, hands roaming over her body. She tries to protest but fails miserably, parting her lips to allow your tongue entrance. You groan at the taste of her, a hand reaching to tangle in her hair as you deepen the kiss, a grin playing on your lips when you feel her groaning against you. Your hand slowly travels down her body, playing with the waistband of her pants. She gives in, head falling back against the couch while your hand slides inside of her underwear, finding her clit with ease and rubbing circles on it. You bite her lower lip hard enough to make a small cut then licks it, pulling back to give her a cheeky grin. “Can't snatch you away to fuck, huh?” She rolls her eyes at your taunting voice, her hips bucking against your hand, fingers now teasing her folds. “You're so wet for me, love. You want me to fuck you?” You question playfully with a mocking pout, voice laced with amusement. Alice’s patience is growing thin at your condescending words and tone, her eyes narrowing at you. You giggle, finally slipping a finger inside her cunt and making her gasp.

“Baby, more.” She breathed, her formerly annoyed eyes turning pleading. Most of the time you were the one begging for her and giving your best puppy eyes; seeing your girlfriend so desperate fills you with excitement. You contemplated teasing her, making her beg just like she does to you, but considering the delicate situation of fucking in the backroom of Alice’s job while the store is open during broad daylight, you decide to just give her exactly what she needs. You add a second finger and increase the speed and pressure, feeling Alice’s wetness increasing with each thrust. It makes you groan, leaning down to suck a hickey into her neck, marking her up. Alice wonders if this is heaven, her body feeling like a puddle as her hips move subtly to meet your movements. The sight made you realize just how much power you hold over the shorter woman — only God knows how much you were going to tease her about it now.

You start showering her face with tender kisses, the feeling of your cold lips on her warm skin making her smile weakly. Her fucked out expression only made you more determined to give her the best orgasm of her life as your fingers work overtime. Alice hisses feeling you curl your digits inside her, her walls fluttering and clenching around you. As your fingers move in and out of her in a quick pace, hearing the quiet moans escaping her lips, you rub her clit harshly. Her hands reach for you, gripping your shoulders as she pushes back against your hand with more force, seeking her release. "Shit... just like that..." Her voice is breathy, your own core throbbing at the sound. "Baby, I'm so close."

You watch your girlfriend lovingly, paying attention to every little detail; the way her lips are slightly parted, her eyes closed and brows furrowed, the light pink blush covering her face and making her look even more gorgeous than usual. You loved it, loved every inch of her. “I love you so much, Alice. My Alice.” Your sweet voice speaks quietly against her ear, a thrill running through her body as your warm breath hits her skin. She slowly turns her head to look at you, searching your eyes. “I love you more, darling.” She gives you a small smile before your favorite sound fills the room. The sound of her orgasm. Alice was never loud during sex, her moans quiet and discreet even as she came. But the throaty, long grunt that escaped her lips every time she reached her climax drove you insane with desire and love, the way she looked up at the ceiling in bliss as her juices coated your hand. Your lips meet in a passionate kiss, long fingers slowing down inside her underwear. You slowly withdraw your digits from her, watching her bite her lower lip in response to the sudden emptiness. “There's more from where this came from at home tonight.”

Still coming down from her high with heavy pants, Alice gives a weak chuckle, watching as you licked your fingers clean. Your eyes scan the room, looking for something to clean her up. “Under the desk, there's toilet paper.” You eye her suspiciously, grabbing the item and making your way back to her, kneeling on the floor between her legs. She lifts her hips to help you slide her pants and underwear down to give you better access. “Care to explain why there is a roll of toilet paper laying on the floor in the backroom of your job, Alice Wu-Gulliver?” Your voice is laced with amusement, even though you're trying to sound mad. She puts her hands up in a defensive manner, jokingly. You quickly finish cleaning her up, throwing the sticky piece of toilet paper on the trash and fixing her clothes. “What happens in the backroom, stays in the backroom.” You let out your signature snorty laugh at her words, nodding in agreement.

[nishloves]

attention; gojo satoru

gojo satoru x f!reader / nsfw drabble / fingering, suggestive

words : 1.1k / masterlist

you were sick of his antics, his narcissism, the way he would cock his head to the side and give you his signature smirk, as if mocking you, calling you weak, asserting how stronger he is than you.

you weren't vain, you accepted when anyone was better than you, but gojo— oh gojo, he could rile you up so easily, too easily, he could even annoy the calmest ocean into wanting to drown him.

"you're just obsessed with me sweetheart, that's why my words annoy you to the core," he grinned, as you almost threatened to throw up at his provoking words; nanami nudging you to calm down and ignore him, because that's something that would actually bother gojo.

not getting the attention.

you made a point to not react to satoru, at all. and this time, he was the annoyed one.

you ignored his remarks of you being too lazy and cooking ramen for lunch, you evaded any question of his which might make you mad, you shrugged off every time satoru called you a "shortie" and you incessantly disregarded his stares when you were too touchy with some of his peers, laughing with them, giving them all your undivided attention.

satoru could only try to burn your back with his deadly stares, with his jealousy and how effortlessly you smiled with some guys who didn't even spend as much time with you as he did.

you swayed your hips as you walked to the training grounds, ignoring his unsought help, ignoring his guides and hints for close combat.

it wasn't until you felt his hands on your hips which were correcting your improper stance that you actually listened to him.

"now that's right baby, this would reduce your chances of injury."

you seethed when he called you baby, baby like he calls everyone; "baby" in a way he treats every other pretty lady.

your punch went flying towards his face as he caught your fist in his huge hands, his strength incomparable to yours.

"slow down there, you don't wanna ruin my beautiful face with your punch, do you?" he grinned as his other hand slid down your waist, his thumb caressing the small area of skin visible under the dark jacket.

you hated how electric his touch felt, you hated how you squirmed under his grasp, you hated the way his fingers clasped your hand.

"what do you want, satoru?" you hissed, but your voice was softer than you intended it to be.

"is this how ya treat your upperclassmen?" gojo's brow cocked up, a small smile lingering on his face; until your phone rang and he saw the name of the guy you were hanging out with more these past days.

you sighed as your hands left his grasp and travelled in your skirts' pocket, "let me get that," you whispered but, satoru definitely had other plans.

he snatched the phone from your hands, eliciting an annoyed whine out of you as you tip-toed to reach your phone, "don't be a baby satoru!" you cried, as you jumped to get your phone.

satoru held you down though, not letting you take your phone, "nuh-uh, stop being desperate."

"what do you mean by that?"

"are ya going out with him? if not, he can certainly wait for you to call you back," satoru spoke, a different tone evident in his usually easy-going voice.

"i'm not going out with him!" you responded, your face frowning as you calmed yourself down, repeating nanami's words in your head, the more angry you look, the more pleased he will be.

"you're interested in him?"

"no!" you retorted, pulling his jacket down and successfully taking your phone away, but the call had ended quite a while ago.

"what if it was important?" you whined, still not calling your friend back.

"then he'll call again," satoru asserted.

"what's your problem?"

"you're ignoring me."

"I'm not? i wouldn't be talking to you if I was," you reasoned, knowing full well you were lying through your teeth.

"you're not fully ignoring me, you're just ignoring me," he whined back, leaning towards you.

"and what if you have my full attention?" you asked, a sudden boldness creeping up to you as you moved closer to satoru.

"i would feel good."

you were now dangerously close to him.

"why do you want my attention?" you whispered as you leaned closer to him, you on your tip-toes, your lips only inches away from him, making a grin creep its way on satoru's face.

you stepped back as satoru's grin fell.

your smirked as you turned away from him, only for satoru to rush and grab your hand, whisking you towards him as his lips connected with yours, too shocked by his actions your eyes widened, but when his hands enveloped themselves under your hair and angled your neck for a deeper kiss, you gave in. you didn't know but a hot, needy and messy make out session was all you needed.

you groaned as satoru hand travelled up your jacket, resting against your breast as you lightly pushed him towards a bench.

as soon as he sat down on the bench, you pounced on him, your lips latching with his again as you settled yourself on his lap, your skirt hiking up as satoru's arms rested themselves on your now exposed thighs, his lips replicating your intensity.

"didn't think I would receive this kind of attention, princess," satoru spoke as his hands travelled under your skirt and onto your damp panties, his fingers sliding the fabric to the side as he scavenged your insides.

"toru~" you moaned as your hands laid flat against his shoulders, your hips rolling to the rhythm of his fingers as your head lolled back, his fingers were so long, so thick and they reached so deep in you—

"toru— i-" you shouldn't do this, not out here in open atleast.

"shh baby, let's take this elsewhere, should we?" satoru whispered in your ear as you bit your lips. your head nodding reluctantly as your eyes peered up at him in anticipation.

you were definitely in for a lot.

[siriuslysatorusimping]

Hi Kiko!! Happy New Years! I hope you and your loved ones are doing well. Here's to good things coming your way! 🥰

And hi, I did a thing :)

First of all---any tips on where I should leave these out to lure my own white haired lovable annoyance into my life?? Taking suggestions and donations 😭

The chocolate miso butter cookies are VERY GOOD! I haven’t had a lot of salty-sweet desserts but I've always felt that I was a salty-sweet dessert kinda gal... and I was right. I only baked off half the batch and decided to immediately hide away the other roll because I am territorial. I'm also currently debating on whether it's acceptable to eat more than three ((four, let's be honest)) cookies past midnight.

Next time (because I'm sure there will be a next time) I'd advise myself and everyone else to go out of their way for unsalted butter (as was explicitly stated in the recipe ofc but I thought I was built different) only because the miso DEFINITELY packs a salt punch 😂

ALSO I gave a taste test nibble to my mom. She then took a whole cookie.

Some of her comments: "your friends would steal and take all this home" "this is dangerous" "you could sell them". She has since walked away from the batch (for her safety, bless her).

Thanks for sharing this with us Kiko! 🫶

THOSE LOOK PERFECT!!

I don't know where to leave them to lure out the white-haired menace but if you figure it out PLEASE SHARE 😭😭😭

Yes, unsalted butter is a must if you don't want to overload yourself with salt!

I've honestly thought about selling these, tbh 😂😂 They're so easy to make and so TASTY. Honestly, I had to stop myself the other night because if I'm not paying attention, I'll just keep eating them. ESPECIALLY IF MY ADHD MEDS HAVE WORN OFF. I WAS PLAYING GAMES THE OTHER NIGHT AND ATE LIKE TEN OR FIFTEEN WITHOUT REALIZING 😭

I'M SO GLAD YOU TRIED THEM AND LIKE THEM!! (adding the caramel bits also makes them even more delicious 👀)

I've made the mocha ones now, and I'm going to need to experiment with them a bit more, but they are good! I just think they'll be better with caramel added as well 😂😂

I'm making too many cookies. This is a problem. Someone please help 😭

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Yuu can do it!

Part 49

First - Previous - Masterlist - Next

Kuroki has a tried and tested way of dealing with a mental breakdown.

His plan was simple. All he needed to do was induce a smaller, much more manageable breakdown.

‘Luckily’, Twisted Wonderland was a land that was always happy to provide new reasons for breakdowns, and this time was no different. For, you see, as the Magift Tournament came to a close, and dawn broke on the following Monday, every Night Raven College student came to one horrible realization at the same time:

End of semester exams were less than a month away, and not a single one of them had studied.

Kuroki pressed his face into his hands. His grades on the last few pop quizzes were… fine. Enough to pass. He could not confidently say the same thing about any of his friends’ grades, though.

Particularly when it came to classes like Alchemy.

Their small group of friends sat in the Ramshackle common room, the furniture shoved up against the wall to make room for their many summoned cauldrons (courtesy of Deuce, of course).

“Maybe we should join the Science Club, they might have some tips,” suggested Enma, glaring at his attempt at a truth potion. It was a nice shade of purple. It was supposed to be green.

Ito sent him a glare out of the corner of their eyes. “No. Trey’s there.”

“Ito. You’re going to fail,” Kuroki stressed.

“I’d rather fail than spend more time with him than I have to,” they sniffed.

“How do you survive theater?” Ace teased, grinning. “Aren’t you guys both stagehands?”

“He’s props, I do costuming, we barely interact.”

Enma snorted. “You’d know that if you did your own homework, Ace.”

“Yeah, well, Ito enables me, so, really, it’s their fault.”

Grim scoffed. “Learn to take responsibility for your own actions.”

Ace gasped, knocking his fist against his palm, as if he had come to a grand realization: “So that’s Ramshackle Dorm’s trait — hypocrisy.”

“You just noticed that now?” Deuce said.

The boy’s mouth dropped open in offense. Probably not at the insult itself, but instead because it was Deuce who was implying Ace was stupid.

Deuce crossed his arms over his chest. “You really should stop enabling him, though, Ito.”

Ito shrugged. “It’s not like it’ll matter all that much. They only really expect expert…ness… expertise from the stagehands. Ace is an actor, so… it’s not his problem.”

Everyone jolted upright.

“Ace is going to act?” Kuroki said, smiling sharply.

Ace grimaced. “I’m going to be a side character, barely have any lines.”

“Aaaaand,” Ito said. “His character has a song.”

“Ace can sing?” Enma said, immediately turning to look at their friend, who looked like he very much wished he hadn’t come to their daily study session, terrible grades be damned. “Oh my god you have to, now.”

“I’d sooner kill myself,” he snapped.

The definitely-not-eavesdropping ghosts cheered from another room.

“… okay, fine, but just the chorus.”

He was saved, though, by a loud crackling sound that was not a part of his usual routine.

Ito had succeeded in making a green potion! Unfortunately… instead of the sea green they had been intending, it was the kind of acidic green you would see in comics to indicate that something was extremely toxic. And, indeed, it seemed it really was toxic. The wooden spoon they’d been using dissolved right out of their hands.

There was an entire minute where everyone just stared at Ito’s empty hand in muted horror.

After a beat, Ito turned and grabbed Ace by the head, tugging on his hair. The boy cursed, loudly, but was quieted when Ito presented a hair to the acid, an offering. One it accepted immediately, the red hair disappearing with a feeble hiss.

“… hm,” said Ito, as if it was just a vaguely interesting occurrence.

“Did you just make a bio weapon?” Kuroki asked, feeling faint.

“Does it make it better or worse that it was an accident?” they asked, smiling sheepishly.

“Worse,” Ace said. “So much worse.”

Ito pouted.

And then their eyes lit up. They grabbed a couple of glass vials and, carefully, filled them with said bio weapon.

Everyone stared at them, horrified.

They set the four vials down with a smile, unperturbed. “Just in case we have to deal with more Overblots.”

That was… actually a good idea, considering their unfortunate track record of happening across every Overblot in this entire world it seemed. Sure, there was definitely a risk that the person Overblotting might die, too, but it was a good last resort. After all, if the parasite wasn’t defeated, the host would die anyways. This could prevent extra casualties.

Still.

“Please tell me you didn’t just jinx us,” Enma sighed. “I don’t wanna deal with another one of those things.”

Kuroki tipped his head back in a groan. “Well, now you’ve definitely jinxed us.”

The three Yuus were devastated. They only had, like, six health potions left. Which sounds like a lot, but they started the year with ten! And they’re not even through the semester yet! This was a dangerous precedent they were setting.

“… know what would make you guys feel better?” Deuce said, his lips twitching into a grin.

The people of Ramshackle immediately caught on, brightening back up and turning to Ace with wide, expectant eyes.

Ace sighed.

~

Deuce meowed in class while taking a practice test for history. Normally, Kuroki would make fun of him, but the guy was clearly going through enough as it is.

~

Ito glowered at their pop quiz grade. You would think having near daily pop quizzes would help them, but if anything their grades just kept getting worse.

“Dude…” said Grim, his eyes lighting up. “I did better than Ito!”

“Dude, you did worse than Grim!” Deuce said, horrified.

Ito scowled. “You try taking a test in a language you don’t understand on concepts you’ve never seen before and see how it fucking goes.”

“Hm? But your Jap — Eng — Common is pretty good?” Kuroki said.

“Speaking and writing are different things,” they grumbled.

Indeed, in the moments before they crumpled up their exam and tossed it into the trash can, Kuroki saw that a good chunk of their points off were spelling-related.

Enma wrapped his arm around their shoulders. “Worst comes to worse, we can always just make a contentment potion after the tests are over and take the exams a million times until we get a good enough score. Time loops for the win.”

Ace made a choking sound. “That sounds like a terrible idea.”

Grim, though, had other concerns: “What’s a time loop?”

Ito and Enma’s eyes flicked to meet each others’.

They snickered.

~

There are some things that invariably form strong bonds between other people. Near death experiences are, often, an example of this. Their entire friend group so far could be used as evidence for this claim — after that first Overblot in the mines, they’d all become near-inseparable.

The best way, though, is to have something in common. Especially if the thing you have in common is a shared hatred of something else. The enemy of my enemy is my friend. The want and need to take something down has bonded people for thousands of years, and would continue to bind them until the species was finally gone.

It started with a few simple words, said by a dejected Grim: “If Ito fails we’ll be stuck here during Winter break, won’t we?”

Kuroki and Enma were blindsided. They had just assumed that either all of them would pass or all of them would fail. They had, kind of, forgotten that they were all, technically, different people who could get different scores and could, maybe, even exist separately from each other.

… no, no they couldn’t. Winter break was two weeks long. Enma and Kuroki could barely handle being away from them for an entire night.

(This was all fine and normal. Healthy, even.)

“Probably,” said Kuroki, eventually.

“Ito’ll be lonely without us,” Enma said.

Kuroki nodded, vehemently.

(Ito wasn’t there to argue this point. Enma and Kuroki had been given lighter job schedules, because people weren’t stopping by the Mostro Lounge as much now that exam season was upon them — or, at least, they weren’t coming for the food — and Sam was just generally a decent guy. Ito, however, had only seen an increase in the amount they were expected to work. The library had been a mess when they’d come back to it and, with the start of exam season, it had only become even more hectic. Crowley was, as usual, unable to understand that Ito was a student who had other fucking priorities sometimes. Which was just another reason to hate him, in Kuroki’s book.)

Grim didn’t look surprised by the way this conversation had turned out. He slumped in his seat, regardless, disappointed. “Awwww, but I wanted to eat at Trey’s bakery…”

Ace and Deuce, however, looked utterly stunned. As if they had, somehow, forgotten that anyone that failed their exams would be forced to stay over Winter Break for remedial classes.

Kuroki supposed that that explained why neither of them had actually tried that hard to study.

“We can’t teach them the entirety of Common in two weeks,” said Enma, running a hand through his hair. “So… what? Should we give up?”

“It’s not like it really matters if we pass or fail. We’re stuck here until the Headmaster finds a way for us t...” Kuroki trailed off, mid-word, as he realized something. He sat up straighter, his lips twitching into a smile. “You know what? I think this entire system is unfair. We should confront the Headmaster about it.”

Ace snorted. “You really hate the guy, huh?”

“I want him dead,” Kuroki sniffed.

Deuce squinted at him. “I… can’t tell if you’re kidding.”

What a coincidence! Kuroki didn’t know if he was either!

Enma sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as if he could feel a headache coming on. Damn, chronic migraines must be annoying. “Whatever. I’m down to try it. Can’t hurt, I guess.”

“Sweeeet,” said Ace, shoving their Personal Magical Ability notes off their desk. As if they didn’t need them.

Granted, Ace was probably the best at math out of all of them, so maybe he didn’t.

Still. Deuce cursed under his breath as all of his notes were jumbled. He learned, in that moment, that there is a reason why a lot of people prefer notebooks to loose-leaf paper, even if the metal spirals in the middle sometimes get annoying.

And, ultimately, there are few teenagers who can resist Procrastination’s seductive wiles.

“Alright, fuck it, sure. Why not?”

And, just like that, the Personal Magical Ability classroom became a war room.

(Kuroki wasn’t in Personal Magical Ability himself, and had no real reason to be studying in this classroom, but mind your business.)

They had not expected any of the other students who had stayed after school to pay them any mind as they plotted. Even if they listened, it was much more likely they were doing it for the sake of gossip, or because yajugen couldn’t help but overhear.

But then Jack waltzed over with his chair and took a seat opposite them.

“U-uh?” Kuroki said, blinking owlishly at the newcomer. Don’t get him wrong — they don’t dislike Jack. Jack had been very helpful in dealing with Leona, both before and during his Overblot. They were on good terms. But he hadn’t been expecting the guy to invite himself to their table. Jack wasn’t exactly a social butterfly.

“I’d like to help,” Jack said simply.

Ace raised his eyebrows. “Uhhhhh… why?”

“He’s from the Savannah, isn’t he? They speak a couple of other languages there…” said Deuce, looking at Ace like he was stupid.

“Nah, his accent is all wrong, he’s probably from Pyroxene,” Ace murmured.

Jack nodded, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Yeah. I only really know a few words in Savannah. Mostly just curse words.”

Oh! So, like Enma and Kuroki with Spanish. Makes sense.

Deuce flushed red. “Sorry for assuming.”

Jack waved him off nonchalantly.

Ace leaned so far back in his chair that was in danger of tipping over, his arms crossed over his chest. He squinted suspiciously at Jack. “You never answered my question.”

He got a vaguely annoyed look. “Isn’t it obvious? I want to crush the competition — but I want it to be fair. I don’t want to win because people are struggling with another language. I want to win because I’m better.”

Everyone relaxed. A return to status quo. The status quo may have been that literally every person at this godforsaken school was fucking terrible, but at least it was familiar.

“So, anyone have any plans?”

Kuroki smiled. “I have one!”

An hour and a half later, they were knocking on the door to the Headmage’s office. Crowley opened the door, and sighed upon seeing Kuroki and Enma. Which was unfair, they hadn’t even done anything yet.

“Ito-chan is in the library, today,” he said, after a moment.

“We’re actually here for you, Headmaster!” Kuroki said, brightly.

Crowley went from weary to wary in the span of a single second. “… I will not be giving you back your firearm.”

Kuroki sulked. Grim patted him on the shoulder in an attempt at comfort. It seemed the monster’s extremely one-sided rivalry had been put aside, if only because he no longer had to watch Kuroki use the gun as a crutch instead of him.

Enma, quickly, stepped in front of them, his lips pulled into a polite little smile. “Actually, we would like to discuss the upcoming exams.”

Crowley sighed, again. Kuroki didn’t think he remembered Crowley being this tired at the beginning of the year. He hoped that all of the Overblot-related paperwork was making him miserable.

Speaking of making the Headmaster miserable, Crowley stepped aside to allow their small group to file inside.

Once everyone was seated, Jack took point: “We believe that the current testing system is needlessly unfair for students who don’t have Common as the primary language in their home countries.”

“This is a prestigious school, it is hardly surprising for us to expect everyone to be proficient in Common. Especially seeing as a large percentage of the students are from well-off families.”

“But not everyone is,” Enma said. “There are many students who are from poorer families, such as Ruggie Bucchi.”

“Unless I am mistaken, Bucchi-kun speaks the language fluently.”

“Speaking is different than writing.”

Crowley must not have had a retort (thank you, Ito, for providing them that argument, even if it was unintentional), because he quickly changed the subject:

“Why do any of you care? From what I know about you, all of you speak Common.”

There was a beat of awkward silence. On the one hand, saying that they were doing it for Ito was likely to make Crowley give in easier, but the idea of admitting — even implicitly — that they cared for anyone was mortifying.

“That — doesn’t matter,” said Deuce. “What matters is that we… want to change it!”

Crowley steepled his hands on his desk. “Then I must assume you have a couple of solutions.”

Maybe you should have thought of some solutions yourself, Kuroki thought, bitterly.

“You could give extra credit to those in need!” said Grim, immediately. Crowley didn’t even deign this with a response.

“We should provide people extra time to complete the test,” Deuce offered.

Crowley waved that idea off immediately. “It is far too late to change the testing schedules to accommodate that.”

They had expected that.

(Deuce looked annoyed, though. Whether that was because his idea was rejected or because he had actually wanted extra time, it was hard to tell.)

Ace hummed. “You could stop grading spelling and grammar. As long as you know what the person is trying to say, does it really matter?”

“I can hardly agree to that. A school of this caliber is expected to have graduates go into fields such as politics, law, and science. Being lenient now is setting them up to fail later.”

Kuroki rolled his eyes. “It’s likely that people going into those fields will be doing so within their own country, and they are — assumedly — proficient in their primary language. In the cases where they do do business outside of their home country, it is safe to assume they have the means to hire a professional translator to aid them.”

”This is a school. We encourage learning here.”

”But only for those whose home countries don’t speak Common?” Enma questioned, frowning. “It’s not like everyone here is required to take a second language, and the ones who take it as an elective are allowed to make a certain amount of spelling mistakes. Because that’s only expected, when you’re not speaking your primary language.”

Crowley hesitated.

”Do you speak a second language, Crowley?” Kuroki asked.

”No. Faerie can magically imbue our voices to ensure we can understand and be understood by anyone, no matter what language we are speaking.”

Their group was blindsided by this answer. Because, oh, that’s just cheating. They had had a retort planned for if he said Yes (“Then you know exactly how hard it is to learn a language!”) and one for if he said No (“Why not? You’ve had plenty of time to learn. Is it, perhaps, because it’s not an easy thing to do?”). Now, they had to scramble for an answer to that.

Ace was first to come up with a response for that particular curveball, though he definitely fumbled it a little in the beginning: “Then — then you can’t conceptualize the difficulty of learning another language. You should listen to the people who do have to when they tell you it’s difficult.”

”Which, again, is none of you.”

Kuroki hated this man.

“Would you consider a supplementary test for those that speak Common as a second language?” Jack cut in. “That way, they can be graded for their skills as a second language speaker, and not be compared directly with first language speakers?”

“Once again, it is far too late to implement that. Beyond that, it would be somewhat unfair to provide ‘extra credit’ opportunities in any form to some students and not the others.”

Jack frowned. It had seemed like the most fair option. Kuroki was pretty sure that’s what they did for second language speakers back in his world. But he was perfectly content with it not working, because he had other plans, and this had bought him enough time to come up with a new plan:

Kuroki leaned forward in his chair, his elbows on his knees, hands folded beneath his chin. “Then I guess the only other way to make it fair is to translate the test into every existing language.”

Crowley spluttered. “That’s impossible! Do you know how many languages there are?! And that’s excluding dialects! Not to mention, translation is difficult, many subtle nuances can get lost… in…”

He trailed off, suddenly aware that the students were smirking at him, their eyes gleaming victoriously.

“… ah.”

“So, if you admit spelling and grammar is difficult when it comes to other languages,” Kuroki began, smiling. “Then maybe you shouldn’t take points off for it.”

~

The group of first years left the office, grinning widely.

Ace and Deuce high fived. Kuroki, Grim, and Enma shared a brief hug.

Jack just kinda… stood there, awkwardly.

Kuroki turned a smirk onto him, lifting his arms invitingly. “C’mon, Jack, celebrate with us!”

“No. Nope. Nuh-uh.”

Kuroki snickered, rolling his eyes, leaning against Enma’s side. “Thanks for your help.”

“Don’t get me wrong! I was doing that for me. I don’t want to join whatever your group of friends —” He spat the word like it was a bad thing. “— has going on. Especially not you Ramshackle kids, you guys are weird.”

“Don’t worry, Jack-kun, we don’t get them either,” said Ace.

Enma huffed, slinging his arm over Kuroki’s shoulders. “You’re just jealous that some people can form healthy friendships.”

“Healthy?!” Ace said incredulously.

“Friendships?!” said Deuce, utterly flabbergasted.

Ace snorted. “They’re not dating.”

“They’re not?!”

“No, I think I’d understand it more if they were dating.”

Enma and Kuroki grimaced at the very idea.

Jack rubbed the back of his neck. “So, they’re just… like that?”

“Like what?!” snapped Enma.

“Yep, it’s the main reason why we haven’t transferred to Ramshackle yet — well, that and because the place is falling apart.”

Kuroki shot Ace a glare. The boy was, infuriatingly, unrepentant.

See, this is why he needed his gun back. To abuse his power.

(Okay, maybe that was why he didn’t have one anymore…)

“We’re not dating. Kuroki is like…” Enma floundered for a solid minute, before crossing his arms and looking away. “I don’t know, an annoying little brother, I guess?”

Kuroki barely even registered Ace and Jack saying that they didn’t treat their siblings like this. His face burned red. For many reasons. Mostly because the feeling was… mutual, even if he’d never admit to that aloud. But also because the feeling was mutual.

“Excuse you? I’m not the little — one, you are.”

Enma snickered. “Nah. Look at you. You’re the littlest brother that has ever brothered.”

“Ito is younger than me, y’know!”

“Yeah, but they’re not a ‘brother’.”

Damn! True!

”Besides, have you considered: the vibes.”

Kuroki scowled.

Grim settled on his shoulder, and yet offered no comfort: “Kuroki is very little.”

Enma blinked. And then patted Grim on the head. “Maybe you’re right, Kuroki, you’re not the youngest.”

Kuroki lit up. So did Grim, but only because he was preparing some of his infamous flames.

They were all distracted, temporarily, though, when Jack tipped his head back in a laugh.

And it wasn’t that Jack never laughed, but… no, yeah, he didn’t really emote all that often. Not this openly.

“You know what? I think I see it now,” Jack said. “Maybe you guys do act like brothers, just very clingy ones.”

They would take the win!

Enma smiled. “Hey, we do study groups. Do you want to come to one sometime?”

“Uh — sure, extra studying can’t hurt.”

“Cool! Can’t wait.”

“You’re just saying that because he agrees with you,” Ace teased.

“Well, yeah, obviously.”

And, just like that, they gained a new friend.

~

Ito nearly cried when they saw their grade on their next quiz.

“Woooooaaaah,” said Enma, pressing a hand to his mouth in overexaggerated surprise. “They must not be grading spelling errors anymore. That’s cool and super duper unexpected.”

Kuroki cuffed him over the back of his head. “How can you be so good at manipulating everyone else but when it comes to us you suddenly suck at lying?!”

“I feel bad lying to you guys,” Enma mumbled.

Kuroki’s face flushed.

But it seemed he was not going to get even a second to recover. Ito grabbed him and Enma by the front of their shirts and dragged them into a hug.

“Thank you,” they murmured.

Kuroki flushed red.

”I helped!” said Grim.

Ito pulled back and reached for the monster, tugging him close so they could press a kiss to his forehead. “Thanks, boss.”

Grim’s fur stood on end in absolute shock. He recovered quickly, of course, spouting off about how every boss must treat their henchmen well. And his henchmen, as all henchmen should be, were amazing yes-men, nodding along to every word.

[monkeyparasite]

GORILLAZ MEMBERS REACTS TO . . . Y/N playing Minecraft! / Y/N plays Minecraft, while the other(s) watch!

relationship with members not specified, imagine the relationship how you please (self-shipper friendly, friendship friendly, yadada)

gender not specified y/n, pov is second person, no usage of any pronouns for the reader

includes: murdoc, 2d, russel, noodle, ace (in that order, actually! also you are included too already ehehehe)

triggers and or squicks: an unsanitary act for 2Ds (toe nail chewing heughgh 😟)

Murdy

- Whether you invited him to watch you play or he just caught you, expect him to be a handful at times

- Usually, he doesn't ask if he can watch you play, he just does. But when he does ask, no matter your answer, he's dropped whatever he was doing beforehand so he can watch you play this strange game of yours!

- He's back seat gaming, telling you to do stuff, "Run back there a minute! What was that..? Well then, what is that ugly bloke? Did, did it just make a noise at me..?!? Hit it. What do you mean no??"

- At first, he didnt like the villagers, but now he's grow accustomed to them. Will probably, cough cough definitely cough cough, take over the village and steal a villagers house if he plays

- Flips out when your close to dying in a cave, hes failing his arms around, screaming, wailing, making such a ruckus everyone else came to help, only to find Murdoc cursing out everyone of the monsters

2D

- Watching you play is a hit and miss, he answers truthfully though! If he doesn't want too, he says no, if he's doing something but he wants to watch you play anyways, he can take a break to watch you! [CUE NOODLE BARGING OUT OF THE RESTROOM AFTER 1 HOUR OF WAITING FOR 2D BECAUSE HE PROMISED TO HELP 😔]

- Asks if he can watch you game, but like Murdoc, no matter the answer, he's still going to watch you play. But with a twist, he actually tries to not make it visible, takes a moment at you screen, look away, take a look, look away, cycle repeats

- Is either also back seat gaming OR just sitting in silence, mouth gaping open. Is he in awe or just hypnotized? No idea

- He thinks the zombies are cool, but says their design is a little bland looking. Hates the baby zombies with a passion though, those little shits haunt his dreams

- Bro. If your about to die and its intense. Just die, he's chewed off all his finger nails and now he resorted to chewing off his fucking toenails, what is wrong with him??

Russel

- Hes honest and nice about it! If he doesn't want to, he just says so, then apologizes. If he does, he says yes! He will plop down beside you and depending on what console your playing on, he will nuzzle his head under your neck to watch OR just lean back and get comfy!

- Will ask, accepts whatever answer you give him. I love you Russel, I love you so much

- Doesn't talk much. Makes small comments and talks very little. But if you get out the note blocks or record player? He's giving you all sorts of tips, also might be dancing a lil. He's having fun!

- He says he doesn't have a favorite mob, but he does. Its the pig! Loves it when you ride a pig, because he thinks its adorable!

- During intense moments when your about to die, he's the one to be quiet. Man is holding his breath, his heart dropped down to his asshole when you realized you probably bit off more than you can chew with these mobs

Noodle

- Like 2D, she answers truthfully! However, if the answer is no, she always adds "maybe next time?", though!

- She won't admit it, but she'll watch you play over your shoulder, before deciding if its worth asking if she could watch you play

- Will and can be blunt, if you're doing an absolute ass job at building something, Noodle's making a small remark about that, suggesting you watch some tutorials so you can get better

- Enjoys the look of the iron golems, also the cats too, but mainly the iron golems! Who can blame her? They are pretty cool looking, also the way they fling the monsters up in the air like that will never cease to be funny to any of them

- Be prepared, because during tough fights, she is watching out for you but will be getting too into it, "BEAT ITS ASS GET IT GET IT!"

Ace

- He can't deny himself one of your good ol' gaming sessions! At this point, you probably already know his answer, and might I suggest, telling him to come here because your playing minecraft

- If you don't tell him your playing minecraft and he sees?!? HERE HE FUCKING COMES, "TOOTS WHY DIDNT YOU TELLL ME YOU WERE PLAYING?!?! SCOOT OVER", Bro is jump over the couch's top part, going into a roll mid jump, and landing on the fucking floor. He did not plan that very well, but dont worry he's okay, MINECRAFT TIME NOWW

- The first few times he watched you play, he was absolutely clueless and asking you questions about everything, he's commenting on everything and anything he sees. "Hey whats like in the distant? NO WAY IS THAT MURDOC?? What- Its a zombie? Whats the difference toots?"

He is still a bit clueless on somethings like the ores, the warden, everything in the nether, but the rest of it he understands fairly well! Still talks about everything he sees though! Cracking jokes and shit

- His favorite mob is the snow golems. If you let him play in creative, he will find a snowy biome, spawn a snow golem, and make it his pet or friend. Gives it a name and everything, you gotta help him with the name tag stuff tho

- Screams encouragements at you, "YEAHH GET EM TOOTS!!" and if its obvious your losing, he's flailing around, oh now he's deflating, nevermind he's back to flailing. Oh and during all of this he's fucking wailing and screaming like its happening to him in real life. Ace king please-

[ashxketchum]

did you think there’s a chance i would let it pass when you let me know i can send more 🤤

then it’s ✨coming back for another kiss✨ (yoona and junho made me do this)

OKAY BESTIE BUCKLE UP because this definitely isn't a drabble 🤣

But my mind went = kdrama = karaoke = kvariety shows always giving the good singers a low score during karaoke themed games and this is what was born ✨

And since we're celebrating the comeback of the century today, I just knew I had to keep the setting musically inclined or else!! 😤

But tbvh, I have like a million different scenarios of Mimi, Yamato and a karaoke booth so this is just the tip of the iceberg, it sure would be nice to ✨visualise✨ them singing together once in a while.

Happy Reading ~

💙~~💚

Two pairs of eyes were sharply fixed on a tiny screen that hung on the wall in front of them. Currently, the display was swirling digits around to the noise of a drumroll and both the occupants of the dimly lit karaoke room stood with bated breath, waiting for the score to appear. Mimi clutched onto the mic in her hand as she followed the numbers rolling around on the screen diligently. She had already scored a 100 on her song performance so there was no need for her to worry so much unless her opponent too ended up getting the same score, which meant another intense face off and she couldn’t be sure if she’d manage to hit all the high notes once again. She sneaked a glance at Yamato from the corner of her eye. He too was holding onto his mic tightly, as if that itself would make him score full points. His brow was furrowed into a deep frown and his jaw was set sternly like this was a matter of life and death for him. Mimi had always known that he was very proud of his singing skills, which is why she hesitated to go up against him at first.

The two had run into each other at a record shop after school, coincidentally buying the same album. Yamato had raised a surprised eyebrow at seeing Mimi’s interest in this particular band but he didn’t make any condescending comments about it. While they waited in the payment line, Mimi decided to question him about his favourite songs by the band, and of course, that’s where the coincidence ended. All the songs that Mimi enjoyed were the ones Yamato disliked and vice versa so it didn’t take too long for their conversation to become heated. Eventually, it moved on from the topic of the band to their musical tastes in general and since they happened to cross a karaoke place on their way to the train station, Yamato suggested that they test out who’s better at singing by having a little match over their favourite songs by the band from before.

Mimi knew that for her singing was a hobby, not a skill she was trained in so it wouldn’t be wise for her to go up against Yamato, who had a few years of experience singing live. But he had looked so smug with that lopsided smile that he rarely showed, as if he’d won the contest even before it had begun. There was no other choice for Mimi but to accept his challenge, she was going to make him realise that her taste in music was just as good and just because he’d been in a band for a few years, he was no expert in the field of music.

From the minute they’d entered the karaoke room, the tension in the air had made her skin tingle but she managed to get a hold of her nerves as soon as she started to sing. She poured every bit of her energy into the song, she channelled the frustration she’d felt through the evening every time she couldn’t get the last word in during their argument because Yamato always had a dry remark up his sleeve, every time he managed to prove her statement wrong by quickly looking up the correct fact or just how annoyed he made her by following her around despite not agreeing to a single word she’d said all evening.

What did he even want from her, was the question that plagued her mind, if he thought her way of picking a good song was so wrong, then why didn’t he just leave her alone and go home? Mimi took every emotion from those bottled up questions and poured it into her song, which resulted in her scoring full points. She’d jumped up and down with excitement as Yamato sat there stunned, his mouth hanging open while he stared at the result on the screen. But the bewilderment only lasted a minute and he quickly pulled himself together, starting his own song right away.

When she heard him sing, the burst of joy she’d felt from scoring a 100 faded pretty quickly. But still, Mimi found it very hard to feel down while listening to Yamato’s voice, the smooth yet deep tone had a gravitational pull of its own that sucked her attention away from everything else and for the few minutes that his performance dominated the room, she even forgot all about their little contest.

But finally, he finished his song and very ambitiously turned to face the screen, awaiting his score. At that moment, Mimi too was able to break out of her trance and stand up from her seat to come to terms with whatever the final result of this competition would be. The karaoke machine did its little gig where it made all the numbers roll around the screen like a roulette and after a full minute of the useless dramatics, Yamato's score was displayed.

97.

Mimi blinked twice in confusion, then she rubbed her eyes and stared at the display again.

97.

“I won!” She screamed at the top of her lungs and began to jump again, this time almost high enough for her head to hit the ceiling.

Yamato stood still, his face a picture of utter disbelief as his eyes continued to look at the number displayed on the screen.

“I won! You lost! I’m a way better singer than you!” Mimi announced loudly and happily to a non-existent audience. The last bit must have hurt Yamato’s pride way more than the score itself because he quickly broke out of the stupor and glared daggers at her.

“This doesn’t prove you’re a better singer than me.”

“Of course it does, I got a full score-”

“Karaoke is very different from actual, live singing.” Yamato threw the mic he was holding onto the couch behind him, folding his arms across his chest defensively, “If we entered a real singing contest, I’m sure I’ll fare much better than you.”

“Sounds like something a loser would say,” Mimi said, bending down to put the mic in her hand on the table between them gently as any dignified winner would.

“I’m not a loser-”

“You scored less than me, the parameters for winning this contest that you decided on was a higher score, ergo, you are a loser.” It felt so satisfying to finally watch Yamato struggle to respond to her that Mimi let this little moment of giddiness take control over her completely. “And since the only reason you could’ve lost is because you didn’t sing as well as I did, that makes me a better singer than you.”

She watched as he attempted to think of a perfect response, he opened and closed his mouth a few times before grumbling incoherently to himself. The sight of him being at a loss for words should’ve been enough for Mimi, but somehow she kept craving more. It was only fair, she justified it to herself, Yamato had spent the entire evening getting on her nerves by being pompous, the least he could do to pay her back was show some humility for a change.

“Anyway since I am now the better singer out of the two of us-”

“You are not a better singer than me-”

“Denial isn’t a good thing, Yamato san, just admit that you lost to me and I am now a better singer than you.”

“Will you stop saying that?”

His loud voice did break Mimi’s confidence slightly but the sight of him looking absolutely livid because she’d won fair and square only made her feel more contented by the feat she had pulled off and she decided, that she wouldn’t stop talking about it till Yamato’s ears fell off from being tired of hearing it. So Mimi met his glare with a determined look of her own, her lips curving slyly upwards into a smirk as she folded her arms and challenged him with a raised eyebrow.

“Make me.”

The words sounded so simple to her then, she had no idea that they would lead to something so intense.

At first, Yamato's mood didn’t change but then she watched as his face softened and eyes widened, as if an idea had popped up in his head. He squared his shoulders and met her smug posture with a conceited smile of his own, “Try and say that one more time. I dare you.”

“I’m a way better sing-”

Mimi didn’t get any time to register what happened next.

Before she could finish her sentence, Yamato leaned across the table and cupped her chin in one hand, for a second he met her eyes, a mysterious glint flashed across his blue eyes telling her that this game, she had lost.

He pressed his lips against hers and Mimi felt her whole body freeze at his touch.

Her mind went blank as he gently caressed her lips with his own. It surprised her that despite the tension between them, he was still soft with his touch, slowly and delicately melting away the shock that had frozen her. Her toes curled inside her shoes when his hand moved above her chin and his palm pressed against her cheek, filling her with a kind of warmth that she had never felt before. At her side, Mimi felt her hands twitch, she wanted to reach forward with them and grab something, anything that would make sure that she would never lose the fuzzy feeling that had ignited in her chest, but after brushing his tongue against her lips once, Yamato suddenly pulled himself away.

The silence that settled over them was more deafening than Mimi’s performance from earlier.

She stood with her hands half raised, lips partially open and eyes still fluttered closed, ready to allow him to delve deeper into her. But as soon as the warmth disappeared from around her, Mimi’s eyes opened with a start. She looked at Yamato, who had now taken a step back, and saw that his face was as red as her skin felt, a hand had shot up to cover his mouth, which seemed like a feeble attempt to keep himself from kissing her again. She frowned as she noticed the confused look on his face like he couldn’t believe he’d just done something like that, he looked guilty and conflicted about what he should do next.

“I’m sorry Mimi, that was way out of line-”

But Mimi wasn’t listening to a word he’d said.

She could feel her skin ache for the warmth that Yamato had carried with his touch, she could feel her heart beat faster every moment she spent apart from him, she could feel the walls of the room closing in on her, the air wrapping itself around her body, begging her to go to him or else she’d be swallowed by the emptiness that surrounded her.

So she stepped onto the table as Yamato stared at her in bewilderment, he opened his mouth to say something again but Mimi had already made up her mind. She bent down and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt with both hands, bringing his face towards her so she could crash her lips against his.

Yamato didn’t push her away however, even if he had considered this a mistake a minute ago, as soon as Mimi’s lips touched his, he snaked an arm around her waist and lifted her off the table with ease, setting her down on the floor so he could bring her closer into him. She let go of his collar as soon as he pushed his tongue into her mouth through her lips, instead her hands raked through his silky hair, grabbing onto a few locks as Yamato tasted every inch of her mouth. While Mimi still felt her body heat up with delight the longer they stayed pressed up against one another, this kiss was nothing like the one they had shared earlier, it was filled with the need to know just how far they could take things before common sense took over.

And that was just another battle which neither Mimi nor Yamato was willing to lose.

💙~~💚

[t0kidal]

Part 6, Return from Origins

Serious Talk. Obviously, none of you actually know how to raise a child. Was that going to stop you? Hell no! But... there are some controversial aspects that you'd like to address... and in your case, you saw this as especially necessary.

note: We'll get to see more Mom-Baby-Daddy(ies?) activities soon enough, but for now, momma's got some ground work to settle. Since you can't give Iruma the world in the way Sullivan could, you're damn well making sure he can survive in it. This means a trip to your old house for a bit of clean up (yes, you weren't always a stick chewing gremlin) as well as the territory you claimed as someone who Returned.

~~~

"You want to WHAT?!"

You don't flinch. This was a matter of Iruma's long term survival and growth in the Netherworld, and while you're a first time mother who was without a mother yourself for half you life, anything and everything you do is for the sake of your precious bundle of blue. Though you couldn't really blame the two for their reactions... After all, your definition of camping wasn't really a pleasant one. If the word "camp" had to be in there, it's better to call it boot camp. This was a matter of serious training, teaching Iruma survival skills that would stick with him till the end of time. And how did you plan on doing this? Starting at an early age.

"I want to take Iruma with me to my old house and eventually, my territory."

To say it was a whim wasn't true. You were thinking about going back to maintain the zones you set up and the thought came to you naturally from the mental back burner. Maybe it was a natural part of being a mother, planning and scheming ways to give your child the tools he needs to build himself up. And you had made that clear! You, Opera, and Sullivan were discussing this over tea while Shichiro put Iruma down for a nap, and you used the opportunity to make the suggestion.

Maybe you just had to hammer it in?

"I want Iruma to learn how to survive, if only for my mind's sake. You two might be able to say that you'll always be around for him but me?" You shake your head, unranked, the highest you ranked when you graduated wasn't high enough as is. "I can't make that promise, which was part of the reason I brought us here but... if you're just going to coddle him... I can't accept that."

At that, the air grew heavier as a shadow falls over Sullivan's face and a conflicted look crosses Opera's.

But between the two, it's Sullivan who speaks first.

"I see... well then... Ok~! It sounds like it'll be fun~! A nice fishing trip between grandson and grandpa~! Operaaaa~! Clear my schedule for the next week! We leave at once~!"

"Master... I don't think Y/n means right now..."

You don't correct either of them on the 'nice fishing tip' idea... Besides, it wasn't like you wanted to exclude them from this but you need to say one last thing.

"I should go set things up then... My territory has gone unsupervised for a while now... not to mention my childhood home... I need to go clean up this weekend."

There was so much to do... you weren't sure if you'll be able to settle it all considering the monsters to fight off... zones to set up... the local demon town to apologize to... Yeah, you were really in for it.

"Will you need help, Y/n?"

"No, Thank you, Opera I'll take care of it. For now I think I should go discuss tomorrow's outdoor lab with Shichiro."

As you leave the room, you chuckle. You could hear a faint chant of "fishing fishing!" no doubt coming from Sullivan. When you approach the doors to Iruma's room though, a different sound reaches your ears...

Rolling thunder, gentle like the tides, it goes into your ears as smooth as honey, and something in your heart twists. Shichiro never really explored any musicality he might've had in school, but you always thought his voice was soothing to hear in and of itself. This song in particular... was something you hadn't heard in forever.

It was something you taught him.

Beautiful dreamer, wake unto me starlight and moonlight are waiting for thee sounds of the rude world, heard in the day Lulled by the moonlight have all passed away.

His eyes lock onto yours as you gazed from the door's threshold.

Beautiful dreamer, queen of my song List while I woo thee with soft melody Gone are the cares of, life's busy throng Beautiful dreamer wake unto me Beautiful dreamer wake unto me

With that, he settles a sleeping Iruma into his cradle and joins you in the hall.

"..."

"..."

You start, "You remember..."

"Y-Yeah.. I do..."

You can only sigh... calm down... down girl... just... get a hold of yourself...

And all such thoughts vanish as a large hand comes up and gently holds your face, a palm coming up to cushion your cheek and after a brief moment, you just allow yourself... this.

What exactly this was you weren't sure.

Shichiro breaks the silence this time, "We have been dear friends for so long... in school, and I'd hope to continue our lives together outside of it too... Myself, Kalego, Opera, and you. Kalego and Opera expected the same... And it wasn't the same when you left."

You look at every other part of his face while fighting both the warmth bubbling up inside you and whatever guilt you had for your sudden disappearance, for making them worry, for making them prepare themselves for a day they'd have to eliminate you (should you get out of hand). Once again, Shichiro breaks the silence.

"We have always thought fondly of you. We will never stop thinking fondly of you."

You were a demon, and like most demons you made mistakes, as demons you deliberate to choose between what you want versus what you have. Shichiro, much like Kalego and Opera, would never easily forgive anyone else if they Returned to Origins, casting away common principles like how "precious" life was, so you regarded his behavior as him being kind, maybe for the sake of your relationship, he was always a little more sentimental in that way.

But you forget, the main difference between you and many demons like you, is that you repent.

Asking for forgiveness is not easy, it wounds the pride and torments people with guilt and shame, hence the intimacy whenever a demon does apologize. You being here now, trying to make things better, letting Kalego have at you on sight... You truly were a strange demon. You just needed a second to recognize that.

And as you look up at Shichiro, you can't help but wonder just what kind of demon were you? To have such unconditional affection from someone so good to you.

The next day at Babyls, you were supposed to work with Shichiro on an outdoor lab for his Magic History course...

So why weren't you?

Apparently, Shichiro had an urgent meeting with Opera and Sullivan. For now, you're stuck... with Kalego... Robin called in sick last minute and none of the other teachers were available to supervise a joint class familiar training so your task was mostly to make sure that the familiars and the students don't cause any trouble. Mask in place, you were ready... more or less.

"Silence."

"..."

"Today, we'll be having our familiar training session, it says training but what we'll be doing here today is establishing your bond with your familiar. Contrary to what some of you may think this isn't a play date. You're here to establish a relationship of mutual respect, if I catch any one of you letting them run rampant it's detention. Any questions or issues that arise will be addressed at the end of class and any problems maintaining control will immediately be reported to me or our assistant for today, Y/n-san. Now get to it."

You really couldn't help but be reminded of the value of life in the Netherworld as you watch the students in action, seeing their relationships grow and watching them learn brought you an almost unfamiliar feeling, pride in someone else.

You hope that Iruma, human he may be, would be able to flourish like these students.

A shout of panic interrupts the peace as you whip around to see two students trying to call back their familiars with little to no avail. You immediately run to the scene, pulling the two of them away to avoid being crushed under the flurry of fur and teeth.

"Whoop! None of that." You set them down, they're still in a panic but fall silent as you bring a finger to your lips in a 'shhh' motion.

With a snap of your fingers, the two familiars are silenced, and though they're still locked in combat, they're young and can recognize when something... is wrong.

"Now call them back." The two students look at you almost as if you're crazy. "Hurry up, if you don't they're gonna hurt each other, if you don't they'll always be looking for trouble at your expense, if you don't someone is gonna get hurt. Steel your nerves and face the chaos for both their sake and your own."

With that, the students hesitate but for one moment, before calling out to their familiar. Their stern, but frantic, tones were sufficient and their familiars as they bounded over, and you release them from your hold to reserve mana.

"Well done, next time this happens, it better not, try to remain calm. Perhaps they sensed your nervousness and reacted to each other in order to protect yo-"

Did they just growl at you?

Those familiars are more defiant than you thought. But rather than reciprocate the animosity you look expectantly to the students.

"Th-that's enough! Don't do that. That's a teacher." A combination of that could be heard as you walk away. 'Good, they're a bit more assertive.' You're sure that Kalego could reinforce that character in later lessons, or even Robin? Nah... good luck to him.

Kalego watches on, and nods in approval before turning back to the others.

Little did either of you know that you were being watched.

"Mo~! Why aren't they talking!?"

"Master, they're working right now, did you really think my underling would bring his personal affairs to work?"

"Hmph~!"

"Opera-senpai... is that why you called me here? And why is Iruma with you!?"

"We couldn't leave him at home alone..."

Yep, the whole thing was a ploy by Opera and Sullivan to get you and Kalego on better terms, Shichiro only agreed because he liked seeing you two get along, but not only did their plan (sort of) fail, they now had to worry about if you ever realize Iruma was brought to school.

Oh you're gonna be so mad if you catch him here.

[intersex-support]

don't know if this is a weird question to ask but does anyone with hyperandrogenism have tips for at least dealing with the body hair growth? TT

i have to depilate every 3 days because of how fast my leg hair grows back (which is physically and monitarily taxing) and i just thought someone here could give better advice than an article written by and for perisex afabs TT

Hey anon!

Not a weird question at all! I feel you on that-my leg hair grows SO fast and although I like having leg hair + it's gender-affirming for me, I have to trim it a lot just to keep it manageable.

This probably depends on whether or not you're okay with some leg hair or if you're hoping to be free from leg hair.

For me, what's worked the best is just trimming my leg hair down to a half inch once or twice a week using an electric trimmer. It still takes time, but that feels like a manageable length to me and only have to do it once a week. That works for me on a sensory level and I'm also fine with how it looks, but I know everyone has different preferences for what they're looking for.

I have some intersex friends who have gotten laser hair removal, but it's important to know that a lot of times, hyperandrogenism is going to make laser hair removal less effective and last a shorter time. One f my friends who got laser hair removal on their body hair had to go in for 10 initial sessions and then back in every 4 months. That still might end up being more convenient depending on what your preferences are, but it's definitely important to let your providers know that you have hyperandrogenism going in so that they can give you realistic expectations.

Some people go on anti-androgens to help with hair growth, so if you're interested in that option you could reach out to your doctor to explore that.

Sometimes I also just try to give myself a break from managing my body hair. I have a lot of complicated feelings about my body hair due to a lot of prejudice I've faced, as well as my own dysphoria, but being able to accept my body hair is something I would like to be able to do and still feel comfortable in my body. So sometimes I'll just purposefully take a week or two off from trimming my body hair and try to approach it with like a sense of curiosity and exploration, or notice positive things about my body hair like the fact it's really soft, or anything like that. Not saying that you have to try this or assuming that we have the same feelings about our body hair cause we definitely all have tons of different experiences, but just wanted to share in case it is helpful for you or any followers!

Followers, please add on any tips for managing body hair or feel free to share your experience! I wish I had some better concrete suggestions to add, but I can't think of a ton of stuff right now.

[jatinposts]

How to be Productive while working Remotely?

With the world accepting the ways of remote working after the pandemic, more and more people are switching to a work-from-home lifestyle. More people are now trying to look for helpful techniques to be productive throughout their work period. Remember that there are many distractions at home, especially the imposing signals of lethargy in our minds that make it very challenging for people to work through. To know how to make the most of your time when working remotely you can abide by the following tips:

Start your 7 days Trail to measure Productivity: We360.ai Free Trial

Keep your bedroom and office separate.

You definitely don’t want to do that. Keep a desk and chair in an area of your living room that isn’t flanked by a bed or a couch that will make you want to fall asleep. Having a dedicated workspace helps you stay organized by instilling the ideas of productivity and work into your head.

Use podcasts or music

Apps for productivity

We360.ai is a comprehensive app that not only tracks your productivity; it also acts as an app-blocker from counterproductive apps like social media and streaming platforms.

Start your 7 days Trail to measure Productivity: We360.ai Free Trial

Locate cafes and co-working spaces

Co-working areas can be quite helpful for completing tasks and remaining productive. They serve as essentially communal workspaces where people (typically digital nomads) can do their work. They are present everywhere in the entire world. Check to see if there are any around your current location or your upcoming destination. This will definitely help you get some work done. The general arrangement is the same, but they are cafes first and offices second. Expect great coffee, lots of power outlets, and high-speed internet of the highest kind.

Use them if you can find them!

Do not multitask

Your brain cannot properly finish numerous activities when you attempt to do them all at once. It is therefore advisable to focus on one task at a time. This will enable you to work more effectively and provide superior results.

Employees that operate remotely must be effective and productive. You can avoid distractions and keep track of your time with these suggestions. In the long run, you’ll feel less stressed and happier thanks to higher productivity and better time management.

[infernalrevenge]

Hey there😊 I was wondering if I could request some headcanons for house dimitrescu s/o coming out as ftm perhaps reader is nervous to tell them afraid that he'll get kicked out and broken up with. I've been in a really bad funk lately and this would help thanks in advance

Hey bro, I feel you on this one. I hope this helps lifts your spirits in some way, this funk will pass and you'll be groovy once again :P

(CW transphobia in the form of non-acceptance but just as the reader's fears. Spoiler alert: They never materialize hehe.)

Alcina Dimitrescu

You were quite nervous to approach Alcina about this, as much as anyone would be about something this personal.

She always projected this image of an old-fashioned matron, whether she knew it or not. You knew she loved you, but it was still hard to shake the possibility of her not understanding.

You were prepared for the best case scenario to at least be some confusion on her part, and focused on that instead (and not the possibility that she would deem you disgusting and make you leave her presence at once.)

You steeled your nerves and knocked on the door of her office, swearing you felt your heart jump when she invited you in.

As soon as you mentioned wanting to talk about something important, she put her things down and had her full attention directed towards you. You weren't sure if that was worse.

With as calm of a tone as you can muster, you came straight out with it.

You hadn't realized you were looking at the floor the whole time, too afraid to look up and see her live reaction.

However, you didn't really have to wait long for a reply as she leaned down and tipped your chin up to her.

The disdain you feared would be on her face was completely absent, instead her expression was soft and loving. It made your heart skip in a different way than earlier.

"Thank you for telling me this, my love. That must've taken a lot of courage to say. Just know that what I feel for you has not changed -- I love you for the man you have always been, and always will be."

Bela Dimitrescu

Your relationship with Bela was all about "comfortable existence" -- you two count reading different books in the same room as doing something together.

The news you wanted to share with her, however, wasn't something you're sure would fit the "comfortable" atmosphere you two fostered over time.

You didn't want to ruin anything by coming out, but at the same time you knew you couldn't keep it from her forever. You wanted to be yourself around her, and telling her would be the first step to that reality. You just hoped she would understand, or at the very least was willing to understand.

When the time came, the two of you sat back to back while you did your own thing -- you were writing something, and she was drawing.

What she didn't know was that you were basically preparing a whole letter to come out to her and explain your situation as best as you can.

At this point, your parchment was full of crossed out lines and blotches of ink where your pen idled for too long -- you wondered if she noticed the pile of crumpled rejects on the other side of you too.

After a while, Bela was just about to turn around and ask you if something was wrong, she could feel how tense you were against her. But then, you slipped the paper to her and had her read it.

All the while, you had your back turned, knees tucked to your chest as you wished a black hole would swallow you up the longer the silence dragged on. You really wished you had telepathy or something right now, because you couldn't tell what she was thinking.

But all she did was take her place next to you, taking your hand and resting her head on your shoulder. Physical affection was rare from Bela, so this might even be enough of a confirmation of her reaction.

"I still love you, you know? If this is who you are and what makes you happy, then I'm more than okay with it. Thank you for trusting me with this."

Cassandra Dimitrescu

You and Cassandra talk about anything and everything under the sun. She's always been the type to speak her mind, especially when she gets excited.

You felt comfortable discussing anything, but this... well, you didn't really know how to get into it.

You wanted to tell her, of course. You just never found the right opportunity to (possibly because Cassandra led the conversation most of the time.)

But you knew you couldn't avoid this forever, not if you wanted to be with Cassandra for as long as you could. A part of you nagged at the fear that this would be cut short if you did say it, though.

You decided it was best to just be out with it before you could lose your nerve. After spending the night pondering over it, she barely even got to greet you before the words "I'm trans!" came tumbling out of your mouth.

"Uh... what?" (Was that a confused 'what' or an angry 'what'?)

"I'm... transgender...?"

"Oh okay. That's nice, good for you."

"You don't know what that is, do you, Cass?"

".......not exactly."

After some explaining and a crash course on terminology, you get a gentle nudge on your arm as a response -- her way of saying it was more than okay.

And that she wished you weren't so scared of telling her, but even you had to explain that, perhaps if you had any past experiences of coming out situations gone very wrong. She would seethe in anger on your behalf if you told her those stories.

If no one else were around at the time, she would definitely kiss you, just to assure you of how much her feelings for you remained the same. She didn't want any of your worries or insecurities from before this moment to stay in your mind, and she would do anything to make them melt away.

"You didn't have to be scared of telling me, but I'm glad you did. Tell me, not be scared of me. Guess from now on, you can be my handsome little man-thing, huh?"

Daniela Dimitrescu

Daniela is easily the most carefree (and oftentimes, careless) among her sisters. She also doesn't take a lot of things too seriously.

As a consequence though, you feared that it meant she wouldn't know how to handle the news. What if she didn't get it and would be weirded out by you?

Daniela wasn't dumb, you knew that, but you were still prepared to explain things if needed. She had always been curious so you weren't afraid to answer any questions she might have. You wished she would have some tact about them though.

She often drags you into mischief and a lot of the time you would relent, but the one time you stopped her first and mentioned needing to tell her something important, she was the one who tensed up.

Was she in trouble? Did you realize you stopped loving her all of a sudden? Were you going to die?! (She's a bit of a worrier when the words "we need to talk" come out of anyone's mouth.)

You were silent for a little too long and she starts to tear up, her worries getting the better of her before you stepped up to give her a hug. This already wasn't going how you planned.

After you managed to calm her down, you decided it was best to just spit it out already.

Fortunately, the revelation didn't hang in the air for too long. Daniela responded almost unexpectedly.

"Oh... wait, is it male to female, female to male, or something else?"

"Uh, female to male. So I'm a man. A trans man."

"Oh cool!" She takes your hands. "You got a new name picked out? If you're taking suggestions, I think--"

Wait what?

Turned out, she was pretty aware of what being trans meant and had read up on it in books before. She didn't just read for entertainment, she retained other information too.

Still, you couldn't help the sigh (and maybe a quiet sob) of relief when she pulled you close for another hug, this time in celebration of you and living your truth.

"Of course everything's okay, babe! You're still the same wonderful human I fell in love with. I always know how to pick the cute ones."

[bratkook]

tied up. (m) jjk.

pairing. biker!jk x reader genre. smut, pwp, fluff, established relationship word count. 6k of just filth <3 warnings. light bondage, oral (m. receiving), unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, light overstimulation, spanking, begging, sweet dirty talk, cum play/stuffing, oc tries to be in control hehe summary. jungkook would do absolutely anything you asked. which is how he found himself on his back, arms tied up above his head, with you perched on his lap and a look on your face that meant trouble. note. little valentine’s day special for deep six!couple (it’s a pwp so no need to read the original story) i hope you enjoy it, lmk what you think ❣️

Never in a million years did Jungkook expect to be in this position. He’s a tough man, always clad in leather and thick rings, covered in dark tattoos, riding around on a loud bike with his club patch adorning his back. 

Yet here he was, laying on his back with his arms above his head, while your cute self sat perched on his hips, eyes sparkling and a giddy smile on your red coated lips. All because he was so inexplicably weak for you. 

“This is what you want?” Jungkook questions for the first time in the span of ten minutes. 

When he arrived home earlier, hands holding a giant plush teddy bear with a bouquet of sunflowers and baby’s breath between it’s paws, his attention was momentarily on the two dogs at his feet yapping for him to acknowledge. Jungkook had been too focused on petting the tiny furballs to notice you weren’t in the room, but when the usual feeling of your hands sliding around him in greeting was missing, he stood back up with a look of confusion. 

It wasn’t until he wandered further into the house, following a small trail of rose petals that lead from the front door all the way to the bedroom, that he finally spotted you. Sitting on the center of the bed in the dimly lit room, a few candles scattered on the dresser and nightstands, flames dancing and illuminating the scene in a warm glow, casting your form in a golden hue that left you looking unreal.

A silk ribbon lingerie set that matched your lipstick hugged your curves, tied up bows covering your nipples, completed by a matching garter belt hugging your waist with gold detailed chains dangling down to your thighs. It was as if you had taken a screenshot of Jungkook’s deepest desires and brought them to life, placed right in front of him, positioned perfectly in order to pull him in.

“Happy Valentine’s day,” you had murmured so sweetly, hands placed delicately over your thighs with your legs tucked under your butt, slowly beckoning him over when he had stood in a state of shock at the door. 

It didn’t take much to get Jungkook wired when it came to you, but seeing you covered in silk ribbons, looking like the perfect present he wanted to unwrap, made his mind blank. It’s that same horndog dazed look on his face that you knew so well, roping him in with your tender kisses and roaming hands, marking his skin in shades of red in a trail from his neck to his ear. This is not entirely how he thought the night would go, his earlier plans blanking from his mind, the teddy bear he held now placed on the nightstand while you lured him in.

“I wanna try something,” you had suggested, soft breath tickling his skin and turning him into a puddle at your feet. 

“Anything.” Jungkook meant it, always willing to do whatever you wanted with unmatched enthusiasm. So when you brought out a jute rope and used your sultry voice to ease him onto his back, slowly undressing him until his top half was bare, he could feel his heart thumping erratically in his chest. 

The question he had asked minutes prior continues to hang in the air as you loop the rope under a final time and pull the bight through, pulling tight to lock the knot in and tugging gently to double check that it wasn’t pinching his skin. The red rope compliments his skin, the double-column tie keeping his hands snug against the bed frame in the perfect position. 

“This is what I want,” you confirm, fingers trailing from his bound wrists, down the veins that covered his arms, and the black ink that painted his skin. Jungkook felt a trail of fire that followed your touch, burning his skin with molten pleasure while you continued down onto his chest, fingertips feeling the bumps of the golden chain he always wore with your initial on it. You admire it for a brief moment, loving the way it glimmers on his chest before your hands continue their path, sliding down until you reach his sides, hands cupped over his ribs and feeling the racing of his heart. 

“Nervous?” you tease, teeth biting down onto your lower lip, your thumb gently soothing his skin. You had half the mind to be a brat and tickle him, knowing he had no way to swat you away like he always did now that his hands were tied to the bed frame, but you could see the small shivers racking his body from being in this position. Jungkook was horny, and a little intimidated by you. 

“You make me nervous. Always look so pretty,” he trails off softly, eyes glazed over as he observes you. There would never be a time where Jungkook wouldn’t stare at you like you were the reason the sun came up every morning, your scattered kisses mimicking the constellations you swore he placed in the sky. Everything on this earth reminded him of you and he wouldn’t want it any other way. 

“Yeah, you like this?” you wonder, hands coming up to trace along the straps of your lingerie with a knowing smile. He takes another minute to admire the silk fabric, eyes focused on the caged bralette hugging your boobs, ends of the ribbon covering your nipples and bouncing when you lean back to give him a better view. The matching underwear with a tiny heart cut out of the front was the cherry on top, silky material felt along his skin from your position. “I bought it just for you.”

A small groan escapes him, tongue coming out to swipe at his piercing before he’s biting down on the soft flesh. Jungkook loved you in absolutely anything you wore, but knowing you had gone out of your way to pick this out had him wondering just how many other options you had hidden away. He’d definitely be bringing that up once he wasn’t focused on the sweet sound of your voice.

“That makes me feel special.” His hands move to touch you, so accustomed to gripping your hips whenever you’re on top of him, he forgets he’s currently restrained until the bed frame rattles and a small burn is felt around his wrists. A wince reaches your ear before he’s relaxing once more, briefly looking up to remind himself that he was tied up before looking back at you with those doe eyes that always swoon you, just now understanding what a compromising position he’s in.

“Nuh uh,” you tsk, wagging a finger at him playfully. “You can’t use your hands today.”

Jungkook honestly didn’t think this through before accepting, not realizing just how much he loved to grope and hold on to you at all times. “What's your plan? Tie me up and use me until you’re satisfied? Because that sounds like one of my fantasies.”

A sly smirk curls your lips, eyes clouding with lust, and it makes his stomach flip. He knew you meant trouble whenever you had that look on your face, and the current situation leaves him a little wary—and excited—for what you have planned. 

“Should I blind fold you too then?”

His eyes narrow as he stares at you, a small frown turning down his lips, clearly displeased with the suggestion. “Alright, that's taking it too far. You know I love staring at you, baby.” 

Jungkook slowly ruts his hips up, cool belt buckle felt along your clothed core, pushing against you when he repeats the motion once more. It makes you shiver while you lean forward, resting more of your weight against him and seeing the teasing grin on his face. Tie him up all you want, he’d even let you contort him into a pretzel if that's what you were into, but blindfolding him and preventing him from seeing the pretty faces you make as you moan over his cock? That was sick torture. 

Thankfully you weren’t totally cynical, agreeing that Jungkook bound to the bed frame with his muscular arms held up was more than enough. “I’m just teasing, Guk. You look good like this though.”

Wiggling a perfectly shaped brow at you, he already feels his cock hardening underneath you, the small ruts of your hips joining his only spurring him on further until he’s aching in his jeans. “C’mon, do whatever you want to me baby.”

Jungkook holds his breath when you lift your hand up, slowly reaching across to tuck a strand of his long hair behind his ear, thumb gently tracing the tiny scar marking his skin with a smile on your face. 

“I will,” you whisper with mischief in your eyes as you shuffle off his lap, nimble fingers undoing his belt clasp with ease, enjoying the way his stomach tenses with anticipation while you unbutton his jeans and pull down the zipper. His impatience shows when he lifts his hips, eager to have you yanking the denim from his thick thighs, not satisfied until you’re tossing the material aside, landing in a heap right beside his leather jacket on the floor. 

The black briefs he has on do a good job showcasing his growing bulge, slowly tenting the fabric when you gently trace your finger along his thighs, following the bold lines of ink on his skin. Almost like a ritual, you place a soft kiss to the double-headed wolf shaded in black before your fingertips dip beneath the waistband of his underwear, tugging them down his hips smoothly. 

Jungkook audibly groans at being released, hard cock bobbing in the air slightly with small beads of precum collecting at his tip, already hard and heavy just from looking at you. The prettiest veins line the underneath of it, guiding your eyes all the way up until you reach the pink mushroom head, just waiting to find its way into your mouth. 

“Fuck, I love your cock,” you marvel, pulling his underwear down all the way and letting it join his pile of clothes on the floor. He lay completely naked now, chiseled body out in the open for you to drool over, and he’s not opposed to it. The fiery look in your eyes while you trailed your gaze over every inch of him only made him squirm, desperate for you to touch him, to show him just why you wanted to have him tied up. 

“Show me how much you love it,” he rasps, teeth sinking down on his lip when you stare up at him, slowly lowering yourself until he could feel your breath hitting his skin. Your eyes are trained to detect any of his movements, from the bob in his throat when he swallows as you wrap your hands around his cock, to the tensing of his thighs when you place a teasing kiss to his swollen tip, taking note of his reactions to your touch.

A shuddering breath escapes him at the contact, once again forgetting about his limited range of motion when he goes to touch you and the headboard shakes behind him. It makes his wrists sting as the rope rubs against his skin in the same spot from before, but he couldn’t help it. The way you’re kneeling between his legs, back arched while you lean forward with your ass jutting into the air, he just wants to reach forward and give it a good smack like he always does.  

You know Jungkook inside and out, so as much as he was trying to act like he was okay with not being in control, you can tell he’s edging closer to becoming a desperate, frustrated mess underneath you. The small whine he releases when he settles his arms back into place shows you that much, and another glance up at him allows you to see the tiny grimace painting his features now, brows pinched together while you continue to tease him. 

“Wanna hear you beg for it,” you sigh, loosely pumping him in your hand, hovering your mouth above him when you stick your tongue out and let a thick trail of spit drip onto his cock. Jungkook hisses slightly at the visual, eyes focused on the way your spit mixes with his precum as you swipe your thumb along his slit. 

“Baby,” he whines, rutting his hips up and frowning when you inch back to prevent his cock from nudging your lips. The wicked smile on your cherry coated lips sends his mind spinning, fingers clenching in his palm when you tilt your head at him innocently. 

“Beg Jungkook. Wanna hear you.”

Your hands tighten around him, making his thighs tense as his hips rut up once more. “Fuck,” he cries out, raspy and desperate. “Please baby, make me feel good. Ah, just wanna feel your mouth please—“

His rambling gets stuck in his throat when you wrap your lips around the head of his cock, gently flicking your tongue against him and having the salty taste of his precum fill your senses. Jungkook’s chest heaves when you hum around him, red lips circling his length as you slowly sink down, the warm wetness of your mouth making his blood simmer. 

The weight of his cock on your tongue has you mewling, eyes fluttering shut when you take him an inch further, gently hollowing your cheeks to suck in time with your hand. Jungkook can’t form a coherent thought now, focusing on the messy way you suck his cock, leaving it nice and shiny each time you pull back. Strings of spit drip down his length and gather around your palm, the wet thump of your hand coming down mixing in with the obscene slurps of your mouth.

“I like you like this,” you breathe as you pop off his dick, hands gliding across his length with the help of your saliva. It’s a torturous rhythm you have going, knowing exactly what to do to make Jungkook writhe around, applying just the right pressure, focusing on all the parts that you know would drive him crazy. 

“Yeah?” he manages to speak, arms flexing in their restraints when you lick a stripe up his length, swirling your tongue around his pink tip with a smile on your lips. 

“Mhm, you sound pretty when you beg.”

“Fuck,” he groans. “You’re lucky I love you baby.”

“I love you too,” you hum, the familiar warmth filling your chest at his confession just as strongly as it did when he first said it. Although he’s being playful you know how deep his words go, you can tell by the look in his eye, and if that wasn’t enough then the mere fact that he was allowing you to tie him up said it all. 

“How much more do I have to beg to get you to sink onto my cock?” The muscles in his neck tense when he throws his head back, gasping as you take him back into your mouth, sliding further down than before. His stomach hiccups once his cock nudges the back of your throat, muscle tightening around his length when you gag slightly at the feeling. Jungkook’s lungs forget how to function at the sight, your red lips pulled taut around his girth as you slurp back up only to repeat the motion again and again until he’s tensing underneath you, stomach caving in each time he hits the back of your throat. 

The breathy whine that spills past his lips has your underwear dampening with arousal, thighs rubbing together when you lift off of him once more, feeling the lust growing inside of you with each moan he releases. Very rarely did you ever get to see Jungkook like this, pleading for you to make him feel good, nights like that typically reserved for the days where he was exhausted from the club, easily becoming a needy mess in search of a stress reliever. But this version of him was new, and you wanted to savor it a little longer.

“Beg a little more for me, yeah?” Your eyes sparkle while you speak, sitting back up between his legs. His cock is left alone when you bring your fingers to the sides of your underwear, gently tugging at the knotted silk on each side to undo the garment, allowing you to slip them off while keeping the golden garter chain attached. 

Once Jungkook gets the view of your glistening folds, he doesn’t need you to ask twice. Instantly, he’s pleading to feel the warmth of your pussy around him, begging to see the look on your face once you sunk onto him, needing to hear the wet sound of his cock slipping into you. “P-please, wanna see my pretty baby use me. Wanna—fuck—wanna feel you cum around me.”

The soft skin of your thighs rub against his when you reposition yourself, straddling his lap with your pussy hovering a few inches above his length, and Jungkook can’t look away once you slowly lower yourself onto him. His lips press together at the sensation, the wetness coating your folds helping you grind against his cock, lower lips parting around it as you rock forward. It’s a teasing motion that tortures the both of you, the head of his cock just barely nudging against your clit each time, but it’s enough to have him groaning.

“Baby,” he whines again, jaw dropping open, brows furrowed together as his eyes move from the spot between your thighs, looking directly at you and seeing the sinfully evil smile you have on. The weight of you on him, keeping his cock pressed against his stomach while you grind against him, has a pool of precum gathering below his belly button, leaving a sticky mess on his warm skin.

“You wanna feel me?” you tease, letting your hands rest on his chest, tracing the skulls marking his skin and gasping when he ruts up in time with you. Your nails lightly dig into him when his cock rubs against your swollen clit with precision, biting down on your lip to prevent a moan from escaping.

“Please, let me feel you,” he whispers breathlessly, mind hazy with lust, skin tingling with each roll of your hips. You let his pleading go unanswered for a minute, enjoying the way his abs clench in time with your hips, smiling when his arms yank at the restraints in his dazed state, small moans leaving his swollen lips while he stares at you.

“Because you asked so nicely,” you smirk, bending forward to place a tender kiss to the edge of his lips, pulling back for a second as he chases your mouth before appeasing him and allowing your lips to meet in a heated kiss. Jungkook gasps into your mouth when your tongue slips past the seam of his lips, tangling with his while you reach between your bodies and grab his cock.

A slight raise from your hips allows you to lead him to your entrance, bulbous head prodding the tight ring of muscles, slowly breaching through in a familiar stretch. It didn’t matter how often Jungkook felt the warmth of your walls, his reaction was the same every time, moaning unabashedly into your mouth, the glide of your walls against his cock leaving him breathless. He’s patient as you ease onto him, continuing to kiss you, swallowing each other’s moans and pants until he bottoms out once you’re fully settled on top of him.

The full feeling of Jungkook’s cock would never fail to make you weak, curving just right inside of you, nudging the perfect spots like it was meant to be there. Your palms on his chest let you feel each rise and fall of his lungs, skin slightly sweaty to the touch, heart racing even faster than before. The wet smack of your lips separating fills the brief silence, faces inches from each other and the half lidded gaze Jungkook gives you makes your stomach fill with butterflies.

“You always feel so good,” you keen, lifting up slightly before sinking back down, becoming more fluid as you get used to his size. His body trembles slightly underneath you, rugged pants felt against your face when he groans at the feeling of your velvety walls wrapping around him beautifully. 

“Don’t tease me,” he sighs, arms flexing and mind going foggy from the slow pace. The pretty pout on his lips when he whines makes it all worth it though, lets you relish in the small sense of control he’s given you. 

You give in to him though, knowing just how bad he wanted this, allowing you to do what you pleased to him, and the least you could do was give him what he wanted too. With a soft smile, you’re bending forward and placing a kiss to the golden chain, not feeling the way his heart skips a beat as he stares at you, the warm light of the room casting you in an angelic glow that only made him fall for you further. 

“Sorry,” you giggle, grabbing his chin before you kiss him, sweet and tender as if you didn’t have him bound to the bed frame. Jungkook can’t even make light of it all, a choked moan of your name reaching your ears when you pick up the pace of your hips, skin slapping together each time you come back down. 

His hooded gaze meets yours, locked onto your every move: the bounce of your breasts while you ride him, still caged behind that bralette he couldn’t rip off with his hands, thighs tensing with the rise and fall of your hips, pussy sucking him in each time, arousal dripping down his length and staining the sheets below you.

“Fuck baby, just like that.” The husky drawl to his voice ignites a small fire within you, hot desire building inside you. The euphoric feeling spreads to every limb on your body, the thickness of his cock spreading you apart deliciously, taking over your rational thinking the way it always did, leaving you drunk off his cock as you succumb to the feeling of it all. 

He smirks lightly when you quiver above him, core tightening each time the head of his cock nudges deep inside you, rubbing along the sweet bundle of nerves he knew all too well. Your hips continue to lead you back to that same spot, cursing each time the jolt of pleasure courses through you. A trembling moan blends in with the sounds around you, walls tightening around his cock when you lift up, resting more weight on his chest when you lean forward for leverage. The angled position has your clit brushing against his pelvis, delicious friction that makes your orgasm creep up on you. 

“Fuck Guk,” you whimper above him with your eyes fluttering closed, missing the awed look he gives you, how his eyes trace the arch of your brows when you pull them together, following the curve of your mouth pushed into a pout with lips coated in a sheen of your saliva—something he desperately wants to feel against his own lips. Jungkook doesn’t fail to see how the table has turned, how easily you’ve become the whiny mess you were so determined to have him be. He loves it like this though, loves to see you shuddering with ecstasy, all because of him. 

“You gonna cum?” he wonders, voice thick and dripping with want. No longer passive, his thighs tense as he starts to fuck up into you, chuckling when you lean fully over him, allowing him to do more of the work once you start to lose momentum. A strained moan is your only response, cheek pressing into his chest as he pistons his hips into you, the lewd sound of your skin slapping together louder than before. Jungkook smiles down at you, seeing the way your body rocks in time with his thrusts, mouth dropping open while you drool over his cock. 

“C-close,” you cry, nails digging into his skin, half moon indents blending in with his chest piece while you try to find your bearings. With a bit of struggle, you lift your head once more, eyes glazed over with lust and you frown at him. “This was s-supposed to be about you.”

His hips speed up now, fingers itching to reach forward and cup your jaw, wanting to bring you closer to kiss the frown from your face. “This is about me. Love seeing you like this.” Jungkook groans as you get impossibly tighter around him. “Cum for me baby, please.”

His begging is what pushes you over the edge, wet gasp sticking to your throat once your climax washes over, incoherent mumbles of his name sounding like music to his ears. Your body trembles above him as your juices soak his cock, slurred curses spoken into the air while another gush of wetness escapes you, leaving his thighs wet with remnants of your orgasm. 

“My pretty baby,” he coos, continuing to rut into you as you whimper, sensitive walls pulsing around him, sending light sparks of overstimulation through you. “Let my arms go angel, wanna make you feel special too.”

Still drunk off your high and vision spotty, you weakly nod, fingers slowly undoing the knot you made until his hands are finally free.

In a flash, he’s pushing you back onto the bed, messy cock slipping out of you in the process. Once his large hands are gripping your skin, everything feels right with the world, soft flesh between his fingers when he grabs your ass as he flips you over, exactly where they belonged. 

Jungkook takes his time, allowing his palms to roam your skin, acting as if he hadn’t been in this exact position last night. He traces over the golden chains along your thighs, admiring them like you had admired the chain on his chest, following them to your waist, up your back until he’s unclasping your bra and finally discarding it to the side. 

The sudden movement has you dazed, not even realizing when he had pushed you onto your knees with your hands holding you steady. The soft material of the sheets is felt beneath you, fingers gripping them while you whimper in anticipation.  

“You had your fun baby,” he sighs, fisting his cock and leading it back towards your drenched entrance. “Let me have mine.”

“Jungkook,” you mewl, arching your back further for him. His palm soothes your skin once he gently sinks back into you with a wet squelch, both hands now gripping your hips when he starts the quick pace you were both accustomed to. Your thighs spread further apart for him, keening when he sinks deeper into you, fisting the sheets as he filled you up. 

Jungkook is focused on the view of his cock stretching you open, how you’re creaming it each time he pulls back out, more of your arousal coating your thighs in a sinful mess. “Love this view,” he groans, one of his hands rearing back to deliver a rough smack against your ass, smirking when the flesh jiggles from the force. The sting spreads to your core, makes you squeal in surprise as your skin smarts and tingles, warmth intensifying when he swiftly delivers two more smacks to the same spot. “Love you.”

The sweet confession makes your walls tighten, a small cry released into his sheets as you rut back into him, meeting his thrusts in time with your own in a messy rhythm. “Love you too, so much—fuck.”

“Do you?” he jests, leaning over your body until his golden chain dangles against your shoulder, free hand clasping over yours and digging into the mattress. “Is that why you wanted to tie me up?”

A playful laugh escapes you, turning into a filthy gasp when he speeds up his thrusts, thighs smacking against yours, bed creaking under the movement. “Yes,” is all you can choke out, shivering at the ticklish feeling of his chain rocking along your skin. 

“You gonna let me tie you up next time and do whatever I want to you?”

“God, yes. Whatever you want Jungkook.” He huffs out a laugh, knowing you mean it, knowing you would indulge every one of his desires with no questions asked. You were his match made in heaven, aligning perfectly with every one of his wants and needs, and he’d forever wonder how he got lucky enough to have you enter his life. 

His right hand reaches for your face, cupping your jaw and turning you to face him, lips meeting yours in a frenzy. His fingers dig into your cheek, tongue slipping into your mouth with a shared moan, hips never losing their momentum. It leaves you in a haze, sighing into the kiss when his tongue tickles the roof of your mouth. 

“Wanna fill you up,” he whispers between smacks of your lips, letting his tongue trail against the seam of your lips before kissing you again. “Leave you nice and messy.”

“Please,” you pant, jaw slack when he angles his hips, cock hitting your gspot with precision, your sensitive walls spasming around him. “H-harder.”

“Whatever you want baby,” he murmurs, giving you another kiss before straightening up, both hands tightly gripping your hips while he gives you the rough pace you asked for. Your upper body gives out on you, face burying into the sheets as your senses overflow with him, body jostling forward with each snap of his hips, nipples grazing the sheet beneath you and making you mewl.

The sweet moans of your name he lets out, fingers burning your skin as he holds on to you, cock filling you up perfectly, it's all you can think about. And when he sneaks a hand around your body, fingers meeting your sensitive clit, you nearly shriek at the stimulation. 

Jungkook feels his own climax creeping up his spine, giving your ass another slap and groaning when you tighten around him. Your thighs tremble against his, hands yanking the sheets while you melt into his touch, moans getting breathier with each flick of his fingers. The pressure builds in your core, whole body tensing up when your second orgasm of the night makes itself known. 

“Guk.” It’s a guttural moan, needy and drawn-out, your hand mindlessly reaching behind you in search for his. He grabs it instantly, lacing your fingers together and anchoring you to him as your mind starts to float, continuing to circle along your clit with his hips never slowing down their intoxicating pace. 

With a final flick against your bundle of nerves, you’re pushed over the edge once more, falling head first into your orgasm so fast it shocks you. Your eyes slip shut, flashes of light displayed against your lids, goosebumps flaring across your skin while the white-hot pleasure consumes you. 

Jungkook curses at your walls sucking him in, attempting to milk his orgasm out of him as he continued to fuck you through it. Your hand grips his tightly, soft mewls filling the air while your body twitches and shudders, breath hiccuping as you come down, knees barely able to hold yourself up. His strong hold keeps you steady, golden chains around your messy thighs swinging from the force of his thrusts. 

“Shit baby,” he grunts, thrusting into you in quick bursts, desperate to feel his release. Your thumb gently rubs along his palm, quiet pleas begging him to fill you up, wanting to feel his cum drip out of you the way you loved. Jungkook’s hips lose their rhythm, fucking you with urgency, jaw clenched tightly when the familiar feeling overtakes him. With a few shallow thrusts and another quiet proclamation of love, he’s pushing deeper into you as he cums, warm bursts of white painting your walls, filling you up until it drips out of you around his length. 

The harsh breaths of both of you fill the now silent room, the thrumming of your heart felt in your ears as everything settles around you. Your limbs feel sore already, ass aching from where he delivered the harsh slaps, but the dopey smile on your face shows no complaints. 

You’re the first to move, gently prying your hands apart and allowing him to slide out of you. The slight gush of his cum escaping only makes you squirm, more so when his fingers stuff it back into you with a chuckle. He can’t look away though, focused on the thick globs of cum coating your folds, disappearing once more as he fills you up again. When you whine in protest he slips his fingers back out, smiling sweetly before he peppers kisses onto your back.

“I’m just trying to prevent the sheets from staining.” 

“Yeah right,” you snort, flipping over onto your back and smiling up at him. These sheets were as good as ruined, they typically were whenever you two decided to roll around and make a mess. “You’re trying to knock me up aren’t you?”

He only rolls his eyes while he crawls over you, long hair framing his face while he gives you his boyish smile. “Maybe,” he shrugs, placing a tender kiss to your lips before kissing the tip of your nose. 

When he pulls back, you let your hands cup his face, taking a good moment to admire your boyfriend, tracing every one of his features that you had memorize, your favorite being the slope of his nose leading to the curve of his lips, second favorite being the tiny mole below his mouth that you loved to kiss. Jungkook always let you take as long as you wanted, staring down at you with glimmering eyes and a sweet smile, taking his own moment to admire you as well. 

“Did you even notice the gift I brought you?” he questions lightly, eyes looking over to the teddy bear and bouquet of flowers. Your head cranes back to see what he was talking about, letting out a delighted gasp when you spot it. He snickers when you twist around on the bed, scrambling over to grab the cute gift in your hands, sniffing the flowers once you do. 

“I love them,” you beam, fondly staring down at the plush toy with the sewn on heart, both your initials embroidered onto it. “Sorry I ambushed you earlier.”

Jungkook grabs a pair of his sweats from his drawers, slipping them on before handing you one of his shirts once he stands beside you. He didn’t mind his own plans for the night being slightly derailed if it lead to this. “Ambush me all you want,” he sighs, wrapping his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Just remember, you told me I could do whatever I want next time.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know.” His playful laugh fills the air when your elbow digs into his side, making him squirm, arms refusing to let go of you despite your attack. He only loosens his grip when you turn around, hands falling around your waist as your own hands settle around his shoulders. 

“Happy Valentine’s day. I love you.” His smile is wide as he looks down at you, cheeks pushing out in a way that keeps his innocence and makes you want to pinch them until they’re pink and he’s giggling for you to stop.

“I love you more,” you breathe out with a matching smile, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. He sighs into it, letting himself melt into the slow motion, hands bringing you closer to him as he deepens it. But before it could go any further, a yap and a few scratches to the door pull you apart. 

“You sure you want kids?” you joke when he walks over to open the door, the two dogs rushing into the room for attention, stretching out their legs onto you as their tails wag. 

Jungkook settles onto the floor, allowing the youngest dog to climb onto his lap, standing up to lick at his jaw. “If it's with you, I want twelve.”

You can’t hold back the loud laugh you let out and he joins in, turning to stare at you when you playfully nudge his shoulder with your foot. “Keep dreaming Six. You know you’re not ready to give up your bike just yet.”

He knew this, perfectly content with the two dogs you currently had, only enjoying teasing you with the ridiculous number of kids and dogs he suggested. But Jungkook also knew that when the time was right, things would fall into place. And as he stares at the room, seeing an abundance of photographs of the two of you, newer photos showing the puppies you had adopted, there's only one thing he’s certain about: as long as he's with you, nothing else matters.

[demonicheadcanons]

Could I suggest the brothers reacting to MC confessing to them accidentally?

MC Confesses to the Obey Me! Brothers By Accident

AN: Cute prompt! Sorry I took so long to get to this, nonny! This post is romance based, so if you’re looking for something more platonic I’m sorry but this one’s not it ;u;

They’re literally almost all sleepy in these, I’m having a day where I find that really cute ^^”

.

Lucifer

Lucifer feels exhausted, half-dozing off at his desk when you walk in and poke him square on the forehead. It startles him enough that he sends you a harsh glare through his hair. You grin at him, and he responds only by scoffing and turning to the side, stretching his arms out. Well, he is grateful you woke him up to some degree - he has a lot of work to get done and has to remain focused.

But there’s something enchanting about how he looks and moves when he’s too tired and trusts you enough that he doesn’t feel the need to remain guarded. He’s graceful as always, but allowing someone to see him looking, for a lack of a better term, like his feathers were thoroughly ruffled and he was ready to turn in for the night, was a rare treat, and one sweet enough to crush your own walls.

By the time you realise you’ve just admitted to liking him aloud - something simple, but he knows what you mean when you say that maybe you like him a little too much, mumbled under your breath mindlessly - he’s already standing in front of you, leaning down to look you square in the face with an unreadable expression.

The corners of his mouth twitch up as he requests - or demands, its hard to tell - that you repeat what you just said. "I like you?" you say, although it sounds like a question, and he smiles and asks, "Are you sure? You don't sound it," with a teasing lilt to his voice.

You don't get to respond before he hums and straightens up, crossing his arms. "How much?" he asks, sitting against the front of his desk and watching you carefully.

"What do you mean, how much?" you sigh, frustrated. This proud man was getting on your nerves. Its not like confessing is easy, planned or not, and he had the gall to tease you about it?

"How much do you like me?" Lucifer's smile widens. When you don't respond, and you start to look somewhere on the edge of hurt, he sighs, rubs his eyes and stands up, tossing his pen unceremoniously onto the desk. He opens his arms and waits for you to walk into them, thoroughly confused by this entire interaction. "I like you too. I thought I'd get to confess first, but it seems you were so determined to beat me to it you did it without thinking."

You blush and glare up at him. That proud smile of his is softer around the edges now, and his hair is still just messy enough from where he's been running his hands through it whilst working that it makes your heart race. You lean into him, press your face against his chest, and release all your pent up emotions in a sigh. Lucifer responds with a chuckle, and he kisses the top of your head.

"Would you like some tea, my dear?"

.

[[Others under the read more!]]

Mammon

- You two tended to relax together. Things were stressful, it was hard being in a new world and Mammon had been the first to befriend you, even if he refused to admit how much he cared for you most of the time.

But he's tired now, and its a little different. He'd brought over a blanket again and he was on the floor of your room, where he tended to spend a lot more of his nights now, but also where he'd found a place for himself since the very beginning when you first arrived. He leans up on his elbow and looks up at you, and you watch him in turn from the bed. You'd just been talking about something or other but now he's simply grinning at you, something devilish and handsome, and you can't stop yourself.

"I really like you," you half-whisper, and then cover your mouth immediately as if you can stop him from hearing it, can stop the words from leaving and making their way to him. They don't, and he tilts his head, face slowly turning red.

"Huh? What'd you just say?" he asks, sitting up and staring at you. His eyebrows twitch down into a frown, and he looks puzzled, and almost a little bit hurt? "D'you mean it?"

Before you can respond, he barks out a laugh and lays down, staring at the ceiling and covering his face with one arm. “Ah, yeah. We’re friends, right? I like you too.”

You shake yourself out of your stupor to glare at him. “I don’t mean as friends, Mammon.”

He sits up again, looking offended. “What, so we’re not even friends now? Wow! Way to break it to me.”

“You-” you half-growl, before taking a deep breath. Your face is burning, and he’s maybe starting to piece things together, but you can’t stand any more of this. “I like you. I want to go on dates with you, and be your partner, and spend as much time with you as possible. I like seeing your smile when I wake up and knowing I have someone I can trust.”

His jaw drops open and he turns away, covering his face with one hand. “Gimme a second,” he mumbles, and when he looks back at you there are tears in his eyes and he’s grinning. “Of course. Who wouldn’t want to spend time with the Great Mammon!”

His voice catches, and then he’s laughing and crying and you scramble out of your bed to kneel next to him, startled and concerned. He wraps his arms around your shoulders and pulls you down on top of  him.

“I like you too, MC.” He kisses the top of your head, watery giggles still rattling through his chest.

.

Leviathan

In all fairness, neither of you were expecting it. It was late, or maybe it was early? You could never really tell in the Devildom, and you didn’t want to move right now for fear of ruining the moment.

Levi was curled up against your side, eyes fluttering closed and then bolting open again as he tried to focus on whatever show he was supposed to be presenting to you. He’d been talking through a lot of it, and you still had the remote in one hand so you could pause it to listen to him properly each time without missing anything. After about an hour of that, he’d started to look tired, and then eventually flopped down against your side, defenseless and unworried, too tired to really process what he was doing.

Your other arm was wrapped around his shoulder, touch featherlight on his jacket for fear of startling him. He was cute, adorable even, and whilst you quite enjoyed seeing him flustered, it was nice to see Levi free of it as well, even if it was a spell only going to last until he woke up a little more.

That moment, as it were ought to, came quite soon. The episode was fading out and the outro music just starting to play when you mumbled, “God, I really do like you.”

Without warning, Levi sits bolt upright and headbutts you in the process, clinging onto his own head as he stares at  you with wide eyes and a tomato-red face.

“H-h-huh?” he stutters, lowering one hand to cover his mouth. You fan at your own - he’d made you bite your tongue, and you were trying to process things when he started to mumble to himself at a mile a minute.

“There’s no way you could mean you like-like me right? I mean, I’m me. And you’re you. Why not one of my brothers, or even Lord Diavolo? He’s going to be the king soon! And-”

“Levi, please, one moment,” you groan. Your chin and mouth were sore and you needed a second, and even if you were planning to confess to him sooner or later it really wasn’t like this, and you didn’t need him denying your feelings so soon. You take a few deep breaths, waiting for the pain to subside a little. Levi helps; he hands you a cold can of something or other, purses his lips until they become nothing but a thin, worried line, and waits.

You start laughing soon after. “I do like you. You, Levi. And I know I could spend all day explaining why and you still wouldn’t accept it, so I’m just going to need you to trust me.” You look at him, nervous and already feeling thoroughly rejected, and smile. “You don’t need to return my feelings, but I hope you can accept them as the truth, at least.”

Levi tears up, and he nods, gripping the bottom of his jacket in both hands. His face takes on too many different expressions in those painfully silent moments, and then he opens his mouth, trying to force something out. You weren’t sure what to expect.

“I l-like you too, MC.” He sighs, clenches his hands tighter as he tries not to stammer too much through his words. “I... I...” He laughs, then, holds his head. “It hurts, so its not a dream, right?” His smile is small but glorious, and you can see his sharp teeth. “Yeah. I like you. And you l-like me?”

You take his face in your hands and laugh. “I like you.” He’s bright red but continues to grin anyway, and you poke at his cheeks with your thumb, smiling in kindness.

.

Satan

Satan is curled up in one of the few tidier parts of his room, and you sit somewhere close by, occasionally glancing up to look at him over a stack of books.

The mess had been more disturbing at first - there were books everywhere, and he definitely wouldn’t take kindly to you knocking down a stack or two of them. He wouldn’t lose his temper, not at you - he hadn’t in a long time, not since before you’d made a pact with him. And despite how awkward it was to try to find a little space big enough for you to sit in every time he requested you come to his room instead of the library or your own, it was nice having that place and knowing you fit there, with him and all of his precious books.

He chuckles and pulls you back to reality, and you’re glad he hadn’t caught you staring at him. You look down at your book and back up again in a weak attempt to cover up what you’d been doing, and Satan smiles all too knowingly, as he often did, and tips his book at you.

“Listen to this, MC,” he says, voice somewhere between cheeky and amused. He’d definitely caught you staring. You blush but tilt your head all the same, curious, and he continues. “It’s a human world story about an admirer who can only ever sneak glances at the person they admire over the top of books. How charming is that?” His bold smile was annoying and handsome at once.

“It’s daring of you to assume I was actually looking at you,” you grumble. “I was lost in my thoughts.”

“But you didn’t deny the admirer part, hmm?” Satan laughs. He doesn’t mean anything by it, isn’t really making assumptions. He’s just trying to poke at you a bit, trying to feel out your reactions so he can better guess at them in future ahead of time. He did that often, and it was something you were getting used to. But this time he was right, and it was a little bit different.

“I can’t deny what’s true,” you mumble at your book. It was quiet, and usually he’d be so engrossed in his own again that he wouldn’t hear you, but you don’t hear pages turning, can’t feel the aura Satan has when he’s thoroughly engrossed in something.

You look up at him and he’s still looking at you, puzzled smile and flushed cheeks catching you off guard. Oh no.

“Do you like me, MC?”

Satan sounds unsure, and you can only swallow and nod as if you weren’t admitting to something you’d planned to keep to yourself for so much longer. Maybe you’d have told him someday in the future, when you were long back in the human world and had met someone else, or were at least starting to get over your feelings. But no. You’d just gone and done it now, with books piled precariously on either side of you and the subject of your affections staring at you, dumbfounded, over an unsteady pile of them.

He absorbs your words slowly, and you know you can’t stand and rush out of there without knocking over enough books to piss him off, so you stay and wait. So what if he knew? Satan wouldn’t get mad about something like that, and he was respectful enough to just ignore it and get on with his life. If it were Lucifer, he might tease you about it, but Satan won’t. And if he reciprocated?..

“Ah, that’s good then,” he smiles, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. He lets out an airy laugh, and you can tell that as much as he’s trying to hide it, he really is feeling flustered. “I was never sure. But, hmm...” Satan clears his throat, looks at you and genuinely smiles now, showing you something deeper than the usual facade he put up to make himself appear like more than just his anger. “I like you too, so its quite convenient, isn’t it?”

You laugh, then, and a weight leaves your shoulders... only to bring on a new one. Your sudden movements topple one of the book piles beside you, and Satan lunges forward to try to catch some of them before they can hit you as you protect yourself with your arms.

When the last one falls, you hear Satan groan as he sits up and pushes the books off of the two of you. He looks around, grins, and then laughs before offering you a hand.

“Well, it was bound to happen eventually.” His emerald green eyes sparkle in the low light, just bright enough to read. “Shall we go out somewhere else? I’d love to take you on a date.”

.

Asmodeus

(Mildly suggestive at parts. Sorry ;u;)

It was a weekly tradition, to go to Asmo’s room and put on a face mask and relax. He gossiped, although it was harmless - there was no judgements passed on anyone - and you listened and offered insight on things. Asmo would show you whatever new makeup or perfume or clothes he’d gotten, would sometimes go for a full impromptu fashion show, or would rest his head on your thighs and let you run your fingers through his delightfully soft hair.

Today, it was the latter. You’d missed last week for some reason or other - Mammon had probably distracted you, or Lucifer dragged you off somewhere with him, not giving the chance for you to refuse. Sometimes the brothers did it intentionally; rather than setting up their own days to spend with you, they had decided to sabotage your days with Asmodeus instead. You were able to prevent it most of the time, to sneak off to his room or at least away from whoever was trying to draw your attention, but after missed weeks where you couldn’t find enough excuses or an escape route, Asmo tended to cling to you and not let go, begging for some affection. It felt best from you, he’d said once, and you were sure he was joking, because Asmo often commented about how he’d done much more with others in the past and surely you petting his hair and listening to him didn’t compare to that, right?

He opens his eyes now, and looks up at you from your lap. His eyes were always startling, because they were incredibly intense even if his powers didn’t work on you. They were beautiful, as well, much like the rest of him, and your gaze flutters away after a bit because you know they’ll draw you in and force you to admit to things you don’t feel ready to talk about yet.

Asmo chuckles, and you wind a hand through his hair and pull it slightly, frustrated. He pouts at you, face colouring, and you perhaps regret it.

“Don’t be a tease. You’ll ruin my hair if you pull at it like that,” Asmo whines. “I mean, of course I don’t mind that much, but-“

You cover his mouth and shush him, tutting as you put your hand back in his hair and played with a lock or two. Asmo only laughs again, and you can’t help but think how he’d only adore making you more and more flustered, and would even risk irritating you so long as he got to see you a blushing mess. He didn’t push too far, though - he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, and more than that he’d be left on his own with no one to run their fingers through his hair if you decided to leave because of it. Or, well - he could easily find someone willing to do so, but it wouldn’t be you, and that’s the whole point of this, isn’t it?

He closes his eyes again and you feel it tug at your heart, something like a desire, but maybe more innocent than what he was used to drawing out of people. You pause, and Asmo opens his eyes to look up at you again, confused, and when met with that gaze, you can’t really hold it back the words that had been threatening to spill for weeks, now, and moreso on days like this when he was seeking delicate affections and smiled at you so beautifully it made your breath catch.

“I like you, Asmodeus,” you half-whisper, and you know he’s heard it because his eyes are wider now and you can see the yellow of his iris, and you half think to push him square off your lap and book it, but then he’s kneeling in front of you with a firm grip on your wrist.

Asmo’s mouth opens and closes, like he isn’t sure what to say. Something like ‘do you mean it?’ or ‘of course you like me, who doesn’t?’ or, maybe, ‘I like you too, love you even!’ Nothing comes out, everything jumbling together in his head. It was rare to see him at a loss for words, as he was a stickler for keeping his composure in almost any situation - it was attractive to be in control of your emotions, wasn’t it? But the silence was painful, and you weren’t sure what to make of it, because as much as Asmo’s mind was racing right now, you weren’t psychic. You couldn’t tell that he was trying to figure out the best way to confess.

Eventually, Asmo settles on doing something he knows how to do better than finding the perfect words for this. He leans forward, hesitates as if checking you were okay, and then kisses you. It’s soft and gentle and not nearly as deep as what he momentarily considered making it, but it’s just right for a confession. He pulls back only to kiss you again, and this time smiles against your mouth when you kiss him back. When you smile too, he throws his arms around your shoulders and laughs, burying his face against your neck and pressing light kisses against the skin there, too, although you can still feel him smiling too much to do it properly.

In the end, it’s not really said aloud, but you know what Asmo is trying to say. He likes you, too. And he is so, so incredibly happy.

.

Beelzebub

9 times out of 10, when you get the urge to go to the kitchen for some reason - to cook, to get a drink, or to get a snack - Beel can be found there. The main rooms in the house he goes between are the common room, where he spends time with his brothers, his own bedroom, and, of course, the kitchen. And lo and behold, here he is now, eating something you can’t actually recognise and talking to Belphie, who slumps against the counter, half-asleep, but offers you a tired smile when you enter the room.

Beel himself doesn’t notice your presence until Belphie stands up and stretches, looking between you and Beel pointedly. Maybe you had been obvious, or maybe it was because Belphie was actually quite sensitive to people’s emotions when he decided to be and when it involved Beel, but he would often leave you alone with his brother if you bumped into the two of them, as if he were trying to give you a chance. His knowing smirk as he passes you on the way out, mumbling a quiet and lazy goodbye, didn’t help.

“Ah, MC!” Beel beams, and your breath catches. Generally, Beel looked quite pissed off. It was just his resting expression, and you knew he was content or thinking about the next meal he’d have, or something like that. But when he smiled? If you didn’t think it might offend him, you would absolutely compare it to that of seeing an angel. His expression hid nothing, betrayed his delight, and he grinned every single time without fail whenever he greeted you, unless he was seeking you out because he’d had a disagreement with Belphie and needed support.

And now as he stands in the kitchen, unknown food in hand and delighted smile on his face, you consider telling him he’s beautiful. Not like Asmo, not in the same sense. But he truly was stunning, and you wanted him to wear his smile with pride for eternity. He deserved to be so happy, and it would be a nice treat for you, too, to be able to see that expression anytime you wanted. You might sell your soul for that much, you joke dryly to yourself.

Beel looks puzzled when you return from your thoughts, and you realise you haven’t even greeted him yet. Perhaps that was how Belphie had noticed.

“Beel!” you chirp, and you think maybe he grins wider when you say his name, although it’s hard to tell. You lean against the counter where Belphie had been resting. “Did you find something nice to eat?”

He nods enthusiastically, and then seems to consider something before he closes the fridge and stands beside you, resting against the counter too. “Do you want to try some?” he offers, and you can’t help but think that he really only offered food to you and to Belphie, and what did that mean? Did he love you as much as his brother, and was it in the same way, or something different like how you felt for him?

“Am I being selfish by liking you so much?” you think. Or rather, say. Out loud. For him to hear. Unfortunately.

Beel freezes, and his ears go bright red. “You-.. hmm? What do you mean?” he asks, and you can tell he’s looking for a specific answer in the hopeful way he looks at you, but you don’t know what it is. If you admit to liking him and he sees you as a sibling, wouldn’t that be awkward? But if you lied you’d have to carry that with you, too, and it would be hard to correct in future.

You sigh and take a deep breath, and look at him, speaking with whatever confidence you can muster. “I like you, Beel. Would you be interested in... dating me?” You think to tell him that it’s okay if not, it’s okay if he’s not interested or he doesn’t want things to chance, it’s alright if he doesn’t think of you like that. But you can’t bring yourself to, and it’s too late anyone to take back what you’ve said, and what’s the point in confessing only to shut yourself down and reject your own advances before he even gets a chance to?

As you wait, Beel’s face steadily gets redder, and he seems to be fumbling through his own thoughts as if he can’t find the right one, the right answer to this question. And, eventually, he nods, and that smile returns, and your head spins because these last few minutes had been too much to deal with and now you have this huge demon grinning at you as if you’d just handed him the sun with a kiss on the cheek and promised him the world, too, on top of it.

“I like you too, MC!” he beams, and sweeps you up into his arms, food forgotten for the moment. You’d panic if his grip wasn’t so firm, and if you weren’t so sure he would never even risk dropping you. Beel’s eyes twinkle and you think you see a spark of mischief peeking through his delight before he holds you tight to his chest and spins, and you can only hold on and listen to his laugh. You bury your face against him and laugh, too, and you feel as warm and bright as his smile.

.

Belphegor

(Mild spoilers for up to lesson 16 / 17)

Although you thought you would be able to suss out where Belphie would be - as Beel had his places, Belphie had his own; the planetarium if he couldn’t sleep, so he could look at the stars and think without being disturbed, or the library if he was scheming with Satan, or the attic if he wanted to sleep and wasn’t in his room - you found that it was actually more tricky than that.

You see, after being released from the attic where he’d been trapped for months, Belphie found himself seeking out his brothers on odd occasions. He’d do so anyway, before all this nonsense had occurred, but now there was more meaning behind it. He’d missed them, and he liked to curl up and play games or just fall asleep near one of them. Finding him on those days was almost impossible, because he could be anywhere.

You almost feel like giving up on it - the two of you had agreed to spend time together, but he was nowhere to be found and was probably off sleeping somewhere with no idea what time it was - and felt thoroughly dejected when you bumped into Lucifer, who was quietly leaving the music room, movements near silent and with a gentle and rare smile on his face. When he sees you it vanishes, goes back to his usual expression as if he’d just put on a mask, but you can tell he’s concerned because he puts a hand on your back and leads you down the corridor with him. He only stops at the end of it and leans down to quietly ask if you were feeling okay.

“I’ve been looking for Belphie and I can’t find him anywhere,” you mumble, automatically responding at a similar level to him. It felt like you were sharing a secret. “We were supposed to go on a walk together.”

Lucifer smiles, then. “Ah.” He tilts his head, and for a moment considers telling you it’s a shame he can’t help, but you look so dejected he can’t bring himself to do it. “Now that I think about it, he did mention something like that before he fell asleep in the music room. I didn’t want to wake him up, but he might not mind if it’s you.”

He chuckles quietly when you cheer up, thanking him before you rush off back down the corridor and open the doors of the music room. You see Belphie sleeping on one of the seats near the piano - he’d probably been listening to Lucifer play something or other, and had passed out in the middle of it all.

You can’t help but smile as you crouch down in front of him, pushing his hair away from over his eyes. As usual, he doesn’t even stir - you weren’t sure if he was a light sleeper or a heavy one because it seemed to vary by the day. but most of the time you could get away with little things like this without waking him. It makes you consider just letting him rest until dinner. You would still have time to go for a walk after, and it’s not like anything would change - there was no day and night in the Devildom. It would remain just as cold and dark as it always was. Any time would be the best time to go out, really.

Belphie shifts in his sleep, and you watch as his hair falls back over his face. You stifle a laugh as you push it away again, allowing yourself to run your fingers through his fringe slightly. His hair is soft, delightfully so, and he looks so peaceful and cute whilst sleeping that you absentmindedly let out a sigh.

“I like you, you know?” you mumble, only just stopping yourself from poking him in the forehead, because that would wake him up and it wouldn’t be a good idea to do so right now. “I really do.”

And, much to your horror, Belphie half smirks and opens one eye. You let go of his hair and sit back on your heels, startled, and he stretches and yawns.

“You’re awake,” you say, as if you were accusing him of something, and he laughs.

“Someone decided they wanted to play with my hair,” he grins, lopsided and with sleep still filling his voice, pitching it lower than usual. He clears his throat. “How could I not wake up? And just in time to hear you confess, too!”

Belphegor sits up and watches you cheerfully, and you pout at him. He liked to tease you, but this feels like it should be a forbidden topic. Something he shouldn’t poke and prod at you about.

“I wish you’d just pretend not to have heard it,” you grumble, but it only makes him smile more, and he tilts his head to one side, feigning confusion. Before he can ask why, or tease you more, you cut him off, focusing your gaze on the floor. “It hurts to be teased about this. If you don’t like me it’s okay, but please don’t make me regret liking you.”

“And who said I didn’t like you?”

You look up at him again, and he only sighs and gets up off the bench to kneel in front of you. He looks like he’s waiting for an answer, or waiting for something at least, but when you don’t respond, he pats you on the head and stands, holding out a hand.

“Don’t we have a date to go on? Get up off the floor, it’s dusty,” Belphie says. You take his hand and stand, and he pulls you closer to him, half hugging you as you walk. He was a pain to deal with and he knew it, but he was determined to prove himself worth the effort.

[duckprintspress]

How to Edit an Over-Length Story Down to a Specific Word Count

One of the most wonderful things about writing as a hobby is that you never have to worry about the length of your story. You can be as self-indulgent as you want, make your prose the royalist of purples, include every single side story and extra thought that strikes your fancy. It’s your story, with no limits, and you can proceed with it as you wish.

When transitioning from casual writing to a more professional writing milieu, this changes. If you want to publish, odds are, you’ll need to write to a word count. If a flash fiction serial says, “1,000 words or less,” your story can’t be 1,025 and still qualify. If a website says, “we accept novellas ranging from 20,000 to 40,000 words,” your story will need to fall into that window. Even when you consider novel-length works, stories are expected to be a certain word count to fit neatly into specific genres - romance is usually around 80,000 words, young adult usually 50,000 to 80,000, debut novels usually have to be 100,000 words or less regardless of genre, etc. If you self-publish or work with a small press, you may be able to get away with breaking these “rules,” but it’s still worthwhile to learn to read your own writing critically with length in mind and learn to recognize what you do and do not need to make your story work - and then, if length isn’t an issue in your publishing setting, you can always decide after figuring out what’s non-essential to just keep everything anyway.

If you’re writing for fun? You literally never have to worry about your word count (well, except for sometimes in specific challenges that have minimum and/or maximum word counts), and as such, this post is probably not for you.

But, if you’re used to writing in the “throw in everything and the kitchen sink” way that’s common in fandom fanfiction circles, and you’re trying to transition only to be suddenly confronted with the reality that you’ve written 6,000 words for a short story project with a maximum word count of 5,000...well, we at Duck Prints Press have been there, we are in fact there right now, as we finish our stories for our upcoming anthology Add Magic to Taste and many of us wrote first drafts that were well over the maximum word count.

So, based on our experiences, here are our suggestions on approaches to help your story shorter...without losing the story you wanted to tell!

Cut weasel words (we wrote a whole post to help you learn how to do that!) such as unnecessary adverbs and adjectives, the “was ~ing” sentence structure, redundant time words such as “a moment later,” and many others.

When reviewing dialog, keep an eye out for “uh,” “er,” “I mean,” “well,” and other casual extra words. A small amount of that kind of language usage can make dialog more realistic, but a little goes a long way, and often a fair number of words can be removed by cutting these words, without negatively impacting your story at all.

Active voice almost always uses fewer words than passive voice, so try to use active voice more (but don’t forget that passive voice is important for varying up your sentence structures and keeping your story interesting, so don’t only write in active voice!).

Look for places where you can replace phrases with single words that mean the same thing. You can often save a lot of words by switching out phrases like “come back” for “return” and seeking out other places where one word can do the work of many.

Cut sentences that add atmosphere but don't forward the plot or grow your characters. (Obviously, use your judgement. Don't cut ALL the flavor, but start by going - I’ve got two sentences that are mostly flavor text - which adds more? And then delete the other, or combine them into one shorter sentence.)

Remove superfluous dialog tags. If it’s clear who’s talking, especially if it’s a conversation between only two people, you can cut all the he saids, she saids.

Look for places where you've written repetitively - at the most basic level, “ ‘hahaha,’ he laughed,” is an example, but repetition is often more subtle, like instances where you give information in once sentence, and then rephrase part or all of that sentence in the next one - it’s better to poke at the two sentences until you think of an effective, and more concise, way to make them into only one sentence. This also goes for scenes - if you’ve got two scenes that tend towards accomplishing the same plot-related goal, consider combining them into one scene.

Have a reason for every sentence, and even every sentence clause (as in, every comma insertion, every part of the sentence, every em dashed inclusion, that kind of thing). Ask yourself - what function does this serve? Have I met that function somewhere else? If it serves no function, or if it’s duplicative, consider cutting it. Or, the answer may be “none,” and you may choose to save it anyway - because it adds flavor, or is very in character for your PoV person, or any of a number of reasons. But if you’re saving it, make sure you’ve done so intentionally. It's important to be aware of what you're trying to do with your words, or else how can you recognize what to cut, and what not to cut?

Likewise, have a reason for every scene. They should all move the story along - whatever the story is, it doesn’t have to be “the end of the world,” your story can be simple and straightforward and sequential...but if you’re working to a word count, your scenes should still forward the story toward that end point. If the scene doesn’t contribute...you may not need them, or you may be able to fold it in with another scene, as suggested in item 6.

Review the worldbuilding you’ve included, and consider what you’re trying to accomplish with your story. A bit of worldbuilding outside of the bare essentials makes a story feel fleshed out, but again, a little can go a long way. If you’ve got lots of “fun” worldbuilding bits that don’t actually forward your plot and aren’t relevant to your characters, cut them. You can always put them as extras in your blog later, but they’ll just make your story clunky if you have a lot of them.

Beware of info-dumps. Often finding a more natural way to integrate that information - showing instead of telling in bits throughout the story - can help reduce word count.

Alternatively - if you over-show, and never tell, this will vastly increase your word count, so consider if there are any places in your story where you can gloss over the details in favor of a shorter more “tell-y” description. You don’t need to go into a minute description of every smile and laugh - sometimes it’s fine to just say, “she was happy” or “she frowned” without going into a long description of their reaction that makes the reader infer that they were happy. (Anyone who unconditionally says “show, don’t tell,” is giving you bad writing advice. It’s much more important to learn to recognize when showing is more appropriate, and when telling is more appropriate, because no story will function as a cohesive whole if it’s all one or all the other.)

If you’ve got long paragraphs, they’re often prime places to look for entire sentences to cut. Read them critically and consider what’s actually helping your story instead of just adding word count chonk.

Try reading some or all of the dialog out loud; if it gets boring, repetitive, or unnecessary, end your scene wherever you start to lose interest, and cut the dialog that came after. If necessary, add a sentence or two of description at the end to make sure the transition is abrupt, but honestly, you often won’t even need to do so - scenes that end at the final punchy point in a discussion often work very well.

Create a specific goal for a scene or chapter. Maybe it’s revealing a specific piece of information, or having a character discover a specific thing, or having a specific unexpected event occur, but, whatever it is, make sure you can say, “this scene/chapter is supposed to accomplish this.” Once you know what you’re trying to do, check if the scene met that goal, make any necessary changes to ensure it does, and cut things that don’t help the scene meet that goal.

Building on the previous one, you can do the same thing, but for your entire story. Starting from the beginning, re-outline the story scene-by-scene and/or chapter-by-chapter, picking out what the main “beats” and most important themes are, and then re-read your draft and make sure you’re hitting those clearly. Consider cutting out the pieces of your story that don’t contribute to those, and definitely cut the pieces that distract from those key moments (unless, of course, the distraction is the point.)

Re-read a section you think could be cut and see if any sentences snag your attention. Poke at that bit until you figure out why - often, it’s because the sentence is unnecessary, poorly worded, unclear, or otherwise superfluous. You can often rewrite the sentence to be clearer, or cut the sentence completely without negatively impacting your work.

Be prepared to cut your darlings; even if you love a sentence or dialog exchange or paragraph, if you are working to a strict word count and it doesn't add anything, it may have to go, and that's okay...even though yes, it will hurt, always, no matter how experienced a writer you are. (Tip? Save your original draft, and/or make a new word doc where you safely tuck your darlings in for the future. Second tip? If you really, really love it...find a way to save it, but understand that to do so, you’ll have to cut something else. It’s often wise to pick one or two favorites and sacrifice the rest to save the best ones. We are not saying “always cut your darlings.” That is terrible writing advice. Don’t always cut your darlings. Writing, and reading your own writing, should bring you joy, even when you’re doing it professionally.)

If you’re having trouble recognizing what in your own work CAN be cut, try implementing the above strategies in different places - cut things, and then re-read, and see how it works, and if it works at all. Sometimes, you’ll realize...you didn’t need any of what you cut. Other times, you’ll realize...it no longer feels like the story you were trying to tell. Fiddle with it until you figure out what you need for it to still feel like your story, and practice that kind of cutting until you get better at recognizing what can and can’t go without having to do as much tweaking.

Lastly...along the lines of the previous...understand that sometimes, cutting your story down to a certain word count will just be impossible. Some stories simply can’t be made very short, and others simply can’t be told at length. If you’re really struggling, it’s important to consider that your story just...isn’t going to work at that word count. And that’s okay. Go back to the drawing board, and try again - you’ll also get better at learning what stories you can tell, in your style, using your own writing voice, at different word counts. It’s not something you’ll just know how to do - that kind of estimating is a skill, just like all other writing abilities.

As with all our writing advice - there’s no one way to tackle cutting stories for length, and also, which of these strategies is most appropriate will depend on what kind of story you’re writing, how much over-length it is, what your target market is, your characters, and your personal writing style. Try different ones, and see which work for you - the most important aspect is to learn to read your own writing critically enough that you are able to recognize what you can cut, and then from that standpoint, use your expertise to decide what you should cut, which is definitely not always the same thing. Lots of details can be cut - but a story with all of the flavor and individuality removed should never be your goal.

Contributions to this post were made by @unforth, @jhoomwrites, @alecjmarsh, @shealynn88, @foxymoley, @willablythe, and @owlishintergalactic, and their input has been used with their knowledge and explicit permission. Thanks, everyone, for helping us consider different ways to shorten stories!

[fandomfluffandfuck]

How do you think worlds most loved jerk is spending his birthday? Unwrapping any punks?

Mmmm I think Bucky is definitely unwrapping a few gifts while his punk watches, eyes soft and heart fond, gentle affection seeping from his pores. I think they're together by themselves, relaxing somewhere in the woods in a cabin. Deep enough in the woods that the frost laid down over earth and plants and creatures (as they awake from winter hibernation the deeper into spring the season gets) still sparkles in stray rays of honey flavored sunshine because it never is quite warm enough to burn them away. It is only March after all. Outside the window of their rented dim log cabin, the evergreens are dark and shivering, they've got just the slightest impression of bright green- tips of new growth. Steve had just taken a peak at them and a passing red fox, sneaking through the undergrowth, ferns, bushes, and nursing logs, all wrought with plush, healthy moss, to appear in the little clearing of the yard, when he was in the process of feeding their fire. Dancing in the wood stove, emanating just enough heat for them both to dress as if it's June instead.

After his glance out into the quiet, peacefully remote wilderness and placing another log on the fire, Steve had turned on his heel, venturing back into their bedroom. The small space is cozy with thick, soft blankets piled nearly all the way up to be level with the top of headboard (even though they don't need a single one, between the two of them). And hidden under the bed is what he packed most carefully. Tucked safely into the car, under other items to be out of sight, curled up in old newspapers and tied with string that lived a double life as Alpine's toy briefly. Before holding it's special cargo proudly like it is.

Steve takes the package carefully in his calloused hands, holding it as if it weighs nothing in strong palms, his fingers thick, knuckles knotted. The sound of the paper rustling accompanies his padding feet on the old, sturdy woodfloor.

He makes his way back to Bucky and places the twine and newspaper wrapped gift in his lap, wordless. They don't need them more often then not nowadays.

Bucky's fingers curl the pages of the book he's been lost inside, the fluttering reminiscent of his gift's wrapping. He sets the book down, its cracked spine facing the ceiling, the world paused but not forgotten. Never forgotten with Bucky. He's always been able to tear through books, since before Steve can recall, memories dusty, hazy, and well-worn. Loved into oblivion. Bucky's hair swishes over his shoulder when he looks up.

Steve lands in the easy chair, flicking his hands up with a wry smile on his lips, "just open it, Buck," he says, knowing how hard it is for his husband to accept gifts and niceties. Voice warm and affectionate, not quiet a whisper but not normal talking volume.

The man in question squints at him but does as he suggests. Pulling at one of the ends of string to unwind the bow and unveil the treasure.

The string is removed entirely, brushed aside as he unfolds layers of newspaper.

Steve watches with bated breath. It's not that he thinks it's a poor gift, he's worried that it might be too well.

With the wrapping still under and partially entangling the gift, Steve's better half opens it. He pulls the cover of the scrapbook open. It's spine cracks as if it too is their age, its joints popping upon movement after lying down and resting for so long. It hasn't excised since Steve put it together months ago anyway.

Bucky's own breathe hitches, his heart kicking his ribs as he cradles the half undressed treasure.

Once.

Twice.

Three times, Bucky blinks.

His eyes don't close again, instead he stares down at his lap and what he holds. His metal and flesh and blood thumb stroke back and forth.

"Steve," he says.

Steve doesn't answer, he knows it's not something that requires an answer, not yet. He will be there to answer anything Bucky needs after he really knows what is contained, taped and artfully arranged into the old stale and specifically perfumed pages between his shivering palms. Decades pressed into nothing but paper- paper that was strangely abandoned, never used, a scrapbook that was printed and made the very year Bucky was drafted. Though all the elements that Steve added into the book are modern, this year or about there.

The book is like them. A mishmash of two otherwise unconnected, untouchable times. An analog clock and a digital clock, placed at the head and end of a hall, facing each other but not touching. They're the only ones, Steve and Bucky, who pace the hall. Back and forth. Urging each other to one side of the other.

The scrapbook is a collage of Bucky's journal entries from his days immediately following his bewildered, agonized but undescribably courageous moments breaking his bonds to HYDRA, are pasted onto the left pages; on the right pages are illustrations Steve carefully sketched and then used transfer paper to move onto the delicate paper and finished, representing whatever memory he had been piecing together. Steve carefully selected the parts that he had the best memory of himself.

Which was more difficult than anticipated, Bucky entrusted his journals to him when he finally trusted that he would remember all he had built back and it became too painful to look back. Steve wouldn't've dared to think that they would ever make it here.

But they have.

Melting to the sturdy easy-chair with Bucky on the marshmallow sofa, dwelling in a log cabin rented for the occasion of Bucky's birthday, they've made it. Time has swept them from whitewater rapids to the lazy river for the first time since sticky hot Brooklyn summers as boys, Bucky taking his smokes on the fire escape, Steve panting on the floor in a pool of sweat surrounded by pencil stubs, his creativity exhausted by the heat. There's finally enough mileage between them and the pain for Bucky to accept the gift.

Tears still build in and overflow from Bucky's smoke-blue eyes, escaping down to his cleft chin, his hands still shake, flipping gently between the pages, and he still sniffles, setting it too down while leaving it open like his beat-up paper back book but Bucky doesn't recoil into himself and he doesn't hate himself for not recalling such details. He does not wilt under the person he was, trying to un-shatter himself, then.

He instead sets the gift aside and climbs into Steve's lap. Legs over the arm of the easy chair and arms around Steve neck. Bucky buries his face in Steve's neck and shoulder, trembling.

"Thank you," he whispers, "thank you," his tears smear into Steve skin. Not for the first time. Not for the last. Steve cradles him, rocking them a touch. Kissing the top of his head as he keeps talking, "I love your drawings. I love that you helped me remember and will keep helping me, if I need it, when I need it-" he lifts his head, kissing him and saying the words right there, against his lips, "I love you."

"I love you too," Steve promises, cupping his face, thumbing the lines of his tears away tenderly, "end of the line and back, you an' me, sweetheart."

(P.S. I assume you wanted this to be horny but... I was thinking about gifts Steve might give him and then this happened lol)

[watchmegetobsessed]

Hey Daddy - Bucky Barnes

a/n: so this one is a little more... lighthearted? idk but it was based on THIS request!

pairing: Bucky X Reader

word count: 1.9k

summary: You join Peter and his friends for a game of Truth Or Dare but you wish you stayed in your room when MJ challenges you to do a task that will definitely out your secret relationship with Bucky.

masterlist

You totally forgot Peter would have his friends over for the night, so you’re slightly surprised when you find him with Ned and MJ in the kitchen, but it’s a pleasant one. You’ve been spending a lot of time with him, being the youngest of the adults in the tower, you developed a great friendship with the youngster and his friends.

“Oh, hello guys! Good to see you again!” you beam at the three of them, Ned greeting you with a little wave and a stunned smile on his face. Peter has recently revealed that Ned might have a tiny crush on you, which you find cute. Though you’re more than a decade older than him, you find it endearing he is crushing on you out of all the amazing women on the team.

MJ nods in your way as she munches on her sandwich, if you didn’t know her better you’d think she is annoyed by you judging by the look on her face, but you’ve learned by now that this is her default expression, almost a happy one.

“Hi Y/N!” Peter greets you smiling. “How was your day?” he asks lightly. He is such a good kid, knows his manners and cares so much for others. The men in the tower like to tease him about his soft behavior, but you think it’s such a great trait.

“A little tiring. Training kicked my ass today, but it was fine. What are you guys up to?” you ask, grabbing yourself a canned soda from the fridge.

“MJ wants to play truth or dare, but only because she wants to make us do embarrassing stuff,” Peter huffs looking at the girl who just smiles with a shrug.

“Oh, I love that game! Used to play it a lot at parties too!” you smirk, remembering the times you played with your friends in the basement of your mom’s house.

“You want to play with us?” MJ offers.

“If you don’t mind…”

“Not at all!” Peter smiles, happy to have another person join their little group. Glancing at Ned you see that he is now blushing, the tip of his ears turning red as he keeps his eyes fixed on the screen of his phone. Poor kid will have to learn how to function around women sooner or later.

The game starts out quite innocent, it’s not even the wild version where you’re drinking, though it popped into your head to pour yourself some wine. But then you decided to keep it PG rated for the kids’ sake.

But as more and more rounds go down, the tasks and questions are getting a little… spicy. When MJ turns to you and asks you the question of the game and you answer before you could even think about it, you know you are in trouble.

“Dare,” you answer and want to take it back right away, but you don’t want to look like such a pussy. But then MJ smirks at you devilishly and you consider just walking out before she ruins your whole life.

“Alright, text all the other Avengers ‘Hey Daddy’ and read the responses out loud.”

The boys gasp as you press your lips into a thin line, knowing well it won’t end good on your side. Especially because there is one person whose response you would rather not read out loud.

You’ve been close to Bucky since day one and though you both were a little ignorant towards your feelings, a few months ago you finally moved your relationship a little further than just being friends. However you both agreed it’s better kept as a secret, at least until you figure out where you really want to head together as a couple.

Now, if you text that message to Bucky there’s no way he won’t write back something that would bust your asses right away, but you can’t back out now, you can only hope he is busy doing something else and won’t pay attention to his phone.

Pulling your phone out of your pocket you lean onto the kitchen island as the kids start cheering for you being a badass and accepting the task.

“Just hey daddy, that’s all?” you ask as you open your contacts.

“Maybe add a winking face,” Ned suggests and you shoot him a glare that immediately turns his face red as he shuts his mouth.

“The winking face is a good idea,” MJ nods.

“Thanks, Ned,” you mumble under your breath as you start opening the text threads, sending them all the same message. Tony, Nat, Steve, Banner, Clint, Sam, Strange, even Rhodey and at the end of the list… Bucky.

“And what, now we wait?” Peter asks.

“Place the phone here so we see when you get a reply and you’ll read them, we can move on until then,” MJ tells you, bossing you around like you’re not even a highly trained special agent who could take her out in a blink of an eye.

The first reply comes from Nat who just asks if you’re drunk. Then comes Banner, who sounds offended that you think he could be your father, totally missing the point of the text. Tony teases you about always knowing you had a thing for him, Steve kindly tells you he only sees you as a sister, Clint just reads the text and doesn’t reply. Sam just sends a simple “control yourself” message back while Strange threatens you to block you if you send another text like this again. Rhodey doesn’t even reads it.

You start to feel relieved when about twenty minutes pass by and no reply comes from Bucky. The game moves on and you almost start to forget about the whole task when your phone lights up again and your breathing hitches when you see Bucky’s name appear on the screen.

“Oh, another reply!” MJ beams as she urges you to unlock the phone and read the reply. When you do so and see his text, you almost just hop off the stool and run out of the kitchen. You consider saying something else, pretending like he didn’t write what he did, but MJ doesn’t take the bullshit and her patience runs short so she simply snatches your phone out of your hand and reads the text herself.

“I specifically remember you saying you’re not into that stuff. What else are you keeping from me about our sex life?”

You let out a long and tired sigh as the room falls silent and they all just stare at you in confusion before MJ slowly slides the phone back to you.

“Our sex life? There’s… there’s a you and Bucky?” Peter asks quietly, not sure what to do with the new information. An anxious chuckle slips from between your lips as you try to find a way to get yourself out of this massive trouble, but nothing comes to your mind. You’ve fought aliens, assassins, you were captured, tortured, went on a hundred mission in your life, yet now three kids defeated you with a game of Truth or Dare.

“Well, um… It’s a funny story, you know—I don’t… fuck,” you mumble, scratching the back of your neck.

“Are you like… together or is it just a friends with benefits thing?” MJ question, shooting you a curious look.

You don’t get to answer, because just as you are about to open your mouth, the man in talk walks in, a puzzled look on his face, phone in his hand, probably still dwelling on your latest message. His eyes spot you first, but then he realizes that you’re not alone and he freezes. It’s not that Bucky doesn’t like Peter or his friends, he just feels so far away from people these days, let alone teenagers who are about a century younger than him.

“Oh,” he breathes out, slowly walking closer to you. “Hello guys,” he murmurs shyly, trying to put the picture together as his eyes fall back to you and he sees how uncomfortable you are. Before he could get another word out, MJ speaks up and just as always, her raw style doesn’t disappoint any of you.

“Don’t worry, your girlfriend is not really into the Daddy stuff.”

You almost choke on your own breath as you turn to shoot her a glare, your hand moving to grab Bucky’s arm gently, sensing him growing more and more anxious with each second.

“MJ, I don’t think Sergeant Barnes is the right person to joke around with,” Ned mumbles, avoiding to even look at Bucky as you let out an airy chuckle.

“G-Girlfriend? We are not—“ Bucky starts, but you cut him off.

“No use to deny, Buck. They know it.”

Bucky huffs, closing his eyes for a moment before he moves closer to you, his hand coming to rest on your lower back. Despite the absurdity of the situation, this small little gesture makes your heart pitter-patter in your chest.

“Is there any chance this could stay between us, kids?” you ask with a charming smile, turning to the three troublemakers.

“I don’t know, what do we get out of keeping it a secret?” Peter purses his lips, pretending to have the higher ground, but you already know what’s about to come.

Bucky’s vibranium arm snaps to the counter top as he shoots a death glare over to the poor kid and though he definitely looks like he is ready to kill any moment, you know that it’s all just an act.

“How about I don’t rip your guts out, kid? That enough?” Bucky growls and while all three of them take a step back with wide eyes and dry throats, you just shake your head chuckling, placing a hand to his hard chest.

“Buck, no need to go all winter soldier on them. They’ll keep our secret, right?” you ask with an innocent smile and all three of them start nodding wildly, as if they just saw a ghost.

Seeing their reaction you realize it’s better if the game ends here and you let them be on their own. You thank for the fun time before grabbing Bucky’s arm and pull him out of the kitchen, heading up to your rooms.

“You shouldn’t have scared them that badly, Buck,” you scold him, but you still actually find it kind of funny, seeing their pale faces and fearful eyes at your boyfriend’s tough guy act.

“Well, they scare me too sometimes,” he mumbles shrugging. “Especially that MJ girl… she is just… weird.”

You can’t help but laugh at his words, a six feet tall super soldier with a metal arm being scared of a teenage girl with a big mouth, that’s quite an interesting concept.

“Hey,” you stop him before the two of you would part in the hallway. He turns back and his blue eyes soften on you. “Do you want to… sneak into my room?” you ask, biting into your bottom lip as you smirk up at him, sliding a hand up his chest, cupping his cheek in your palm. “We could have some fun… Daddy.”

“Wait, are you really into the daddy stuff?” he asks with wide eyes, making you cackle with your head falling back.

“Just shut up and come to my room,” you chuckle, pressing your lips against his as you pull him into your bedroom, shutting the door closed behind you.

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