#anyway if someone wants to take this and run please do

[yeyinde]

18+ | noncon. implied kidnapping.

In retrospect, camping all by yourself in a national park teaming with bears was probably high on the list of "dumbest things you've ever done in your life." But in your (shaky) defence—it really wasn't the wildlife you had to worry about anyway, but rather man.

In particular, a man.

That surly, gruff park ranger who happened to look just like a grizzly at first glance. The same one who found you all alone in your pitiful little tent, flashlight clutched in your trembling hands as you stared at him through the crack in the opening, visibly relieved that the thing you heard stomping around outside wasn't a bear, and quickly decided that pampered city princesses ought to be taught a lesson on what survival out here really means.

But he's merciful, he claims, and gives you a headstart to try and escape him (and the thick, unmistakable bulge in his pants, the dangerous look in his eye; naked hunger—that same, dead-eyed thing you'd seen in a big grizzly as he charged an elk earlier in the day) before he takes his prize.

And so, you run.

Except making good decisions doesn't really seem to be your strongest point.

In an instant, something is slamming against your back before you even make it halfway up the hill, pushing you to the ground on your belly. A warm, thick body following down after you. Crushing you into the soil.

You're too dazed by the impact to struggle when your hips are lifted. Pants, panties shoved down. Warm, rough hands cupping between your thighs, groaning at what he finds (all wet for me, mm, sweetheart?), and when you do, finally, begin to struggle you're met with an immovable wall. The strength of a man with more power in the single hand he keeps anchored against the back of your neck than you seem to have in your whole body—

"Don't know a thing, do you, sweetheart?" He growls, pushing your cheek deeper into the softened soil. "Not supposed to run from a bear, love."

Oh. Right.

Before you can squeak out an okay or sorry or please let me go, your knees are shoved wider apart by his thick, hairy thighs as he slots himself between your legs. Mounting his spoiled little prize on the cold, damp ground like a beast.

"Dangerous animals out here," is all he rasps before he's shoving inside of you, groaning about finally claiming the sweet little prey he's been diligently stalking through the park since he first laid eyes on you in the visitors centre. "You don't have a lick of sense in you, do you, sweetheart? No. Didn't even notice me followin' you. You need somethin'—someone—to protect you from dangerous predators, mm. And a firm hand to teach you a lesson."

He pries you open on his fat cock before you can spit out the dirt in your mouth to refute that claim, rutting into you like an animal on the cold ground in the middle of a national park as he makes good on his promise to show you what happens when you try and run from predators. A lesson that tastes like geosmin. Peat. And salty, tobacco-stained fingers. And aches like a broken bone after he set a maddening pace behind you, jerking your body against the upturned soil. Small rocks, and twigs digging into your skin.

When he's finally done, pulling out of you with a bullish grunt and landing a heavy, satisfied slap against the stinging cheek of your ass, he gathers your limp, sore body up into his arms, and brings you back to the lookout tower he calls home (temporarily).

A stop along the way, he assures you before setting out to teach his spoiled city princess more "survival skills"—like how to swallow his cock the way he likes, and how to take him as deeply, and as often, as he wants to give it to you.

(and often really is the foregone conclusion; it's mating season, after all.)

And as he pulls you down to lay against his furry, damp chest, cock softening inside of you (a thing you'll just have to get used to, sweetheart because he has no intentions of pulling out until he's ready to), and starts purring about mates and cubs and how lucky you were that he found you first before anything else had a chance to sniff you out, you think maybe you should have just gone to New York instead.

[suiana]

thinking of a guilt ridden reader and a silly manipulative yandere who looks exactly like someone from reader's past.

maybe you did something bad to a friend, perhaps ended a relationship on bad terms with someone who never deserved to be treated badly. whatever it is, just the mere thought of that person causes you to physically curl up and pray for forgiveness.

so you spend the rest of your days like a dead man walking, the guilt of your actions clawing at the depths of your heart. it makes it hard to do anything, let alone think. because when you are left alone with your thoughts, all you can imagine is their expression when everything went wrong. oh how you'd give up anything just to change the past and your actions.

as if your guilt wasn't enough, he just had to skip into your life looking exactly like that person. like them.

at first, you thought of this as a curse. this... this stupid guy? looking exactly like them? then as you sort of warmed up to him, you still think it's a curse. because what gave him the audacity to come into your life, looking like them, and telling you how much he wants you? especially claiming that it was love at first sight and that you two were fated to be?

"i love you."

"can i be yours?"

"we'd be so good together."

you keep pushing him away. you know how this will end up, with you messing up just like last time. wouldn't it be better to just keep him at a distance? unfortunately for you he doesn't seem to think so. and it's like a curse. a demon from your past coming back to haunt you in the form of your greatest mistake.

if anything, your costant rejections only seem to keep him wanting... more?

"please, just one chance. that is all I'm asking for."

"no? you don't want to entertain me even the slightest bit?"

"how cruel, i never realised you were this heartless."

you eventually end up giving in. he just has that sort of effect you suppose. or maybe it's the guilt that's constantly eating you alive that's causing you to make this decision. after all, he looks so much like them and... you don't know what you'd do if he looked at you like that. not ever, not again. maybe this would be your way of making up for your wrong doings.

he couldn't be happier obviously. finally! the person he's been pining over finally accepted his confession! even if it took a long time, it all worked out. you're happy, his happy, everyone's happy!

until he found out you're not actually happy and you're just doing this because you feel guilty.

"what do you mean? am i just a replacement to you? a way to correct your mistakes?"

"hah! you're so- ugh, I don't even want to think about you anymore."

"save it, those are just excuses."

he's always been a manipulative person. he knows. and he knows that you know it too. yet he continues to manipulate you through it all. i mean, it's your fault for even treating him like a second option in the first place! what? he's the one that's been pestering you? no no, you could've just rejected him. it's not his fault, it's yours. you're not stopping him anyway so like, you're basically admitting you're in the wrong.

"yeah you should be sorry. how mean do you have to be to think of me just as someone you've hurt? I'm my own person too."

he says that but continues to use the fact that his familiarity elicits something in you. and he'll continue abusing it, continue taking advantage of your weakened state. why? because he can and because he wants to.

plus, it's amusing in it's own right to see you bending head over heels just to appease him. huh, guess the guilt runs deep, doesn't it?

oh it's whatever. he'll slowly condition you to start showing him the affection he so desperately craves anyway. he just needs to hold on a little longer. break you down a tiny bit more and then you'll be all his. he can feel it.

you two will be truly happy together. no other people, no guilt in your heart. just you and him, alone and content with one another.

that would simply be salvation, wouldn't it?

[cosmosluckycharms]

Bug like angel

Girl Afraid

May 12, XXXX

4:45 AM

"Shit," you think to yourself as you realize you're going to be late for school

Yes, your school usually doesn't start till 7 AM, but you have a field trip today, and the bus leaves at 5:30 AM.

"Ms.Rose is gonna kill me if I'm late again! Where did I put my bag? Where are my earbuds?" you whisper to no one in particular

You had a million thoughts running in your head, but one thing was sure, you were so late.

You still had to grab your phone, eat breakfast, put on your clothes, do your hair and makeup on the bus, and run towards the bus and then maybe you can make it in time.

You rush downstairs to get breakfast and realize you don't have to be as quiet because it's empty in the kitchen.

You quickly eat breakfast and finish your morning routine before making it out the door.

It's 5:43 when you make it onto the bus, Ms. Rose was waiting on you and thankfully didn't you much of a hard time.

"Ms.y/n, please be more considerate of others time next time."You sat down next to your "friends"

You don't fully consider them your friends, they're too full of themselves and you all know none of you guys are friends, just close acquaintances.

After finishing the coffee you brought onto the bus ride, doing your hair and makeup, and taking a quick nap while listening to music, you finally made it.

Alchemax.

You were excited for the trip, even asking Dick, Jason, and Bruce if they wanted to tag along as chaperones.

They said no, which you both understood and were also sad about but, whatever, who cares? Anyways- you're at the coolest place!

It's perfect for someone who wants an internship that would look great on your resume.

Why do you want that resume? You don't know. Maybe it's so you can impress your family? You aren't fully sure.

Before you question yourself further, you get off the bus, along with your schoolmates.

You hear them all chatting about whatever, but it's clear to everyone that you are the most excited to go on this trip.

You, who wouldn't shut up about it despite everyone at school and home telling you to. You, who kept bouncing off walls while talking about it. You, who constantly wrote about it in journals.

Nothing could stop your excitement, and that was clear to others.

While you were there, you were practically the only one participating.

The only one wasnt scared to ask questions.

The one that would ask questions for others who wouldn't.

You were sure that this was the best trip of your life! You were so interested in everything!

It wasn't until later in the day after you got home at 7:56 that you saw everyone in the dining room sitting together eating, like usual, without you.

Every time you saw them together your heart broke a little more.

You tried to not make a scene and just walk away quietly, and it worked!

With everyone but Alfred.

"And where have you been, young miss?" He asked in an authoritary tone.

"I've been on a field trip in Alchemax! I just got back! It was soo fun, why?" you asked, knowing what he was going to ask.

"Wouldn't you like to have dinner with the others?" it's clear he just wanted the others to notice you, he knew you've tried so hard to be with them.

"it's alright, Alfred. I grabbed lunch with my friends earlier, I'm still full!" you said enthusiastically. It wasnt a lie, afterwards you all went to your favorite fast food place, batburger. You're sure theres no better fast food place than batburger.

"Oh, that's quite alright then." as soon as he said that you went upstairs to get unready and unpack for the day. you didnt notice Jasons slight dissapointment on his face when you refused and walked away.

It's good that it was a Friday, you could rest tomorrow.

You didn't notice how you accidentally took Project 111 with you. Mustve sneaken in your bag while you went to the bathroom while at Alchemax.

It took you a while to open your bag due to you getting ready for bed, and you screamed when you saw a spider in your bag and crawling onto your hand.

"FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK STOP CRAWLING ON ME LEAVE ME ALONE WHERE DID YOU COME FROM GO AWAY!" the stupid spider kept crawling on you.

It's honestly suprising no one heard you scream. Either that or they didnt care.You didnt know what to do. You hate spiders.

It took you minute or two of just flailing before actually doing something.You tried to reach for your nearest hairbrush to hit the spider with, only to accidentally hit yourself anywhere but where the spider was. Thats gonna leave a mark.

The spider, project 111, ended up biting you on the wrist. You ended up killing it with your hairspray.

You started panicking on whether you would die or not, you may have cried a little before realizing you were being a tad bit dramatic.

You realized the spider didn't look like the venomous ones you researched online while trying to find common ground with Damian back when he was new

So you decide to keep this to yourself, a nice little secret.

3:37 AM

You woke up sweating, panicking, hot, cold, tired, wide awake, hungry, full, thirsty, not thirsty.

You didn't know what was happening.

You forced yourself to fall back asleep.

it's around 12 PM when you wake up again.

You hope it was just a weird nightmare.

You realize you woke up late to breakfast, which was usually at 9:30 for you, so on your desk was some cold breakfast Alfred left for you.

While eating it, you thought about what happened.

Was it a dream? Was it a sign? Were you high?

You start walking in circles trying to figure out what it could all mean...it took you a while to realize you were literally upside down on your ceiling.

Oops?

Before you processed it, you panicked.Why are you on the ceiling? Why were you walking on walls? How were you walking on walls?

So many questions. No one to answer them.

After a bit of panicking and running around making a mess, you realize you sort of have powers.

You could stick to walls, that was one.You could make webs, thats two. You could be a hero, like the others!

At first, you find it so cool!

..then you realized your father doesn't want metas in Gotham...

You decide to keep this to yourself, for now at least.

▪︎☆

oml this is so short oops guys i swear im. tryigg my hardest but also im kind of a bad writiter 🙏

anyways the next one of these i make is most likely gonna be emu reader cause shes so silly

anyways

[fleshunger]

helping vi with her t-shots :3

vi x reader, established relationship, fluff, crack (?), masculine titles for vi (boyfriend), idk man i wrote this in 10 minutes, was thinking abt using he/him for vi in this one but decided against it idk how the crowd feels abt that, this is just cute n short silly okay?!!! layout inspired by kitguts and cowgirlvi

a.n: no way I posted after 400 years ok anyway this fic is not supposed to represent an accurate process of a testosterone shot please do not try to recreate at home i have never given myself or someone else a testosterone shot and im not entirely sure how the process works so if this isn’t realistically depicted please excuse me for I am inexperienced

You’re curled up on the side of the couch, mindlessly watching a random episode of Gossip Girl while occasionally scrolling through your phone.

It’s already dark out, and Vi still isn’t home. You know she likes to take her time at the gym, but you’re starting to wonder where she is and what she’s doing since she hasn’t come home yet.

As if on cue, the lock to your shared apartment clicks open, and in strides Vi, slightly out of breath, with her gym bag in one hand and what seems to be a pharmacy bag in the other. Her tan skin and bulging muscles glisten with a thin layer of sweat, making her all the more attractive.

“Hey, I’m back!” she huffs as she tosses her keys to the side, dropping her duffel bag to the floor and running a hand through her damp hair. She’s been growing it out, and you think she’s the handsomest she’s ever been. She lets out a loud sigh before heading to the fridge to chug an ice-cold bottle of water like a man parched.

“Hey yourself, what took you so long?” you ask, your attention entirely focused on her—especially on her moving back muscles. God, she’s so broad…

Vi snaps you out of your trance with her reply. “I got held up,” she says, taking another gulp of water before holding up the pharmacy bag. “Had to pick up my T from the pharmacy.”

“Oh, cool,” you say with a small hum and a slight nod, keeping your eyes on your boyfriend as she walks over to the couch and plops down next to you, stretching out her strong limbs.

“Gonna force me to give you your shot again?” you grin lightheartedly. Vi knows you actually don’t mind at all—on the contrary, you love helping her.

Vi raises a brow and nudges your side with an amused smirk. “You bet your ass I am,” she retorts playfully, making you roll your eyes.

You get up to gather everything you need for Vi’s shot: an alcohol pad, a clean needle, and, of course, her newly picked-up vial of testosterone.

“C’mere,” you command.

“Whatever ya say, Doc,” Vi quips as she lays herself over your lap like a little kitten, clearly getting comfortable.

“Butt again this ti—?”

“Yep,” Vi cuts you off before you can even finish the sentence.

You exhale softly as you grab the small vial. “Why don’t you let me put it in your leg or something normal? It’s like you want me to inject your butt,” you mutter while carefully filling the syringe with the hormone.

“Nah, butt’s funnier,” she says with a cocky grin, clearly enjoying the fact that she’s making you inject her ass.

You flick the syringe to get rid of any air bubbles. “Alright, alright, pants down, weirdo.”

“Someone’s eager to see my ass,” Vi teases as she shimmies down her sweatpants. You have to hold yourself back from giving her a slap or a pinch for that comment. She stops when she’s revealed enough skin to give you room to work with.

You gently grab the soft skin and carefully insert the syringe into her cheek, injecting her with the T.

Vi balls her hand into a fist, one eye squeezing shut. Despite doing this plenty of times, it still comes with a little pinch.

“Ow…” she huffs, her face scrunching up for a second.

You make sure to fully inject the dose before pulling the needle out, giving her ass an appreciative pat. “Alright, there’s your T-shot, big boy,” you say with a smile.

Vi rolls her eyes and pulls her pants back up. “Oh, shut up,” she groans sarcastically, readjusting herself into a more comfortable position.

You continue rubbing the curve of her ass—she sure is blessed in that department, after all.

“Have you noticed any symptoms?” you hum, genuinely interested in your boyfriend’s hormone journey.

“Hmm… well, my acne’s a bit worse, my mood’s kinda short at times, and I’m hairier,” she says with a yawn, looking up at you lovingly. “But my voice is deeper, I’m bulking easier, and there’s definitely an increase in strength, so there’s that.”

She grins, clearly enjoying those two aspects in particular.

“Oooh~! Lemme pop your pimples,” you leer, already wiggling your fingers.

Vi scoffs, wrinkling her nose in disgust. “No way in hell!”

try my recipe boy

[intrepidacious]

occupy my brain [4]

series summary: Being Harlan Thrombey’s research assistant would be the perfect summer job if it weren’t for his grandson.

pairing: ransom drysdale x f!reader

word count: 1.8k

chapter warnings: heavily implied smut; ransom being his usual asshole self; the repercussions of chapter 3 😏 please note that my blog is rated 18+. minors dni. ageless/empty blogs will be blocked without warning.

a/n: these chapters keep getting longer and someone needs to stop me to be quite honest. or maybe don't. this was a fun one 🤭

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3

searching for redemption

It had been a few days since the incident, and your mind couldn't stop replaying that night. It was like you were stuck on a loop. Every time you closed your eyes, you could feel his hands on you again. His lips.

And when your own hands traveled down your body, you couldn't replicate the sensations those memories brought you. The frantic clashing of your bodies against each other, the heat, the sounds.

It was maddening.

The last thing you needed right now was an unhealthy obsession with the memory of Ransom fucking Drysdale's dick.

You'd have to quit. You'd have to leave the country. You were still thanking your lucky stars that Harlan Thrombey hadn't said anything about the state of you the morning after, when you arrived at your meeting late and in a very wrinkled shirt. You'd wanted to die.

The man wrote detective novels, for crying out loud. It didn't exactly take Sherlock Holmes to deduce what you'd been up to the night before.

The one silver lining was that Ransom was still as unwilling to get any actual work done as ever, and so you'd been pretty successful at evading him. Apart from a couple of research-related texts exchanged between the two of you, you hadn't heard from him at all; and even though your own messages were bordering on passive-aggressive, his stayed surprisingly, and thankfully, innuendo-free.

You just wanted to forget any of it had ever happened.

There were only a few weeks left of your run at Blood and Wine, and then you never had to see him again at all. You'd never been more grateful for your semester schedule picking up immediately after break. After sinking a couple of eighty-hour weeks into lab reports and essays and analyses, you'd be back to normal again.

Everything was going to be fine.

Except there were still a few weeks left of your run at Blood and Wine, and when you left the lab building on Friday afternoon to catch a ride home with your friend, her car wasn't anywhere on the parking lot. Instead, you could see a beat-up BMW and a certain dark-haired asshole leaning against it.

Heat rushed to your cheeks immediately at the sight of him. His lips were twisted into his usual scowl as he scrolled through his phone. It wasn’t bright enough outside to warrant wearing sunglasses, and yet Mr Pretentious did it anyway.

"What are you doing here?" you called out, stopping a couple of paces away from him.

Ransom put his phone away, and even though you couldn't see his eyes you could feel his gaze dragging up and down your body lazily. You ground your teeth.

"We've been summoned," he finally said. "Don't you ever check your phone?"

As a matter of fact, you hadn't in a while; labs made you forget all concept of time, particularly with the amount of reports you'd had to finish. You found an e-mail from Harlan Thrombey marked urgent as well as several missed calls from [Don't even think about it] and a message from your friend telling you she'd left without you after "your asshole guy told me u had plans. use protection!!"

"How did you even know where I was, anyway?" you asked, putting your phone away again without deigning to answer that particular text.

"I asked nicely."

You snorted.

"Can we go or do you wanna wait here until you take root?"

"Right now?" you said reluctantly.

"Right now," Ransom drawled. "Get in."

So much for your evening plans of watching a couple of episodes of your favorite show and eating sushi in bed. With a groan, you climbed into his car. It smelled surprisingly nice in here, like worn-out leather and some expensive air freshener and, well, Ransom.

Hot breaths and sticky skin and low moans and—

The engine roared to a start and you quickly turned away to put your seatbelt on. It was a twenty minute drive to the Thrombey estate, and you spent the first half of it staring out of the window, ignoring the man behind the wheel. You weren't sure what you were waiting for; some snide remark, probably, an excuse for you to rip into him like you usually would and leave everything that had happened between you behind for good.

"You're being awfully quiet today."

When you looked at him, he was staring blankly at the road ahead, his face unbothered. He still hadn't taken off his sunglasses, even though the lights were pretty low now. Prick.

"Because this is weird," you said.

He put the blinker on, every movement nonchalant. "Why?"

You rolled your eyes. "You know why."

The pause that followed was long enough it almost let you hope he'd just drop it and you'd be off the hook. You could just move through the uncomfortable air between you and continue working together as history's worst team until you could finally part ways.

"Do you always get like this or has it been a while?"

Then again, always lovely to be reminded how much you hated the guy.

"You know what, I'm not even going to answer that," you said sharply.

"The second one, then."

"It's none of your business, Ransom."

"No," he said and readjusted his glasses. "It was fun, though."

"Fuck you."

He stayed silent for the rest of the drive, but the smug energy still radiated off him. You entertained yourself by thinking about murder.

*~*~*

"Ransom, take those glasses off," Harlan said as soon as you sat down in his office.

You gave Ransom a look that said told you so; you'd had that discussion just minutes earlier.

"No thanks," he answered, leaning back in his chair. "What did you want to talk about?"

Harlan sighed heavily. "Off now or so help me god, I'm going to write you out of my will after all."

There were a couple of angry red splotches forming on Ransom's neck, right above the spot where you knew you'd left your mark on him, which was just hidden by the collar of his sweater today. With another gruff sound, he finally pulled his sunglasses off.

You swallowed your gasp down.

"What happened with you?"

Ransom raised his chin to look his grandfather straight in the eye; it made the shadows fall on his face in a way that made the dark bruise stand out even more.

"I fell," he said dryly, his features made of stone.

You didn't hear Harlan's reply; you barely took anything from the meeting, even though you felt yourself nodding, agreeing to consider a couple of different things in your research for the remainder of your work time. Later, you even found a couple of notes you'd taken on your phone.

Your thoughts were swirling and you didn't even know why. It was all very confusing.

Only when you got back to Ransom's car, because of course you'd had to agree to him driving you again, that one thing crystallized for you clear as day: you were furious with him.

"You fell, huh?" you said sharply.

"That's what I said."

"Bullshit someone else, Drysdale. What did you do?"

"Why do you care?" he said, tilting his head. "Because we fucked one time?"

Your face was burning. "Sorry for trying to be a decent human being."

You crawled into the passenger seat and slammed the door shut behind you, which really didn't have the intended effect when he was getting in on the other side just moments later.

Neither of you spoke this time. You were staring at your own reflection in the car window, still fuming; that's why it took you until the car slowed down that you weren't even in the area of your apartment building.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to ice my face," he said, turning off the engine, "and then I'm going to sleep."

"Hey!" You got out of the car after him, face incredulous. "You said you were gonna drive me home!"

"I said I'd drive you. I did. If you don't wanna stay, call yourself an uber."

Drowning. Strangulation. Multiple lacerations to his thorax.

"You're such a prick."

"Where have I heard that one before?"

You followed him into the entrance hall because damn him, you were not going to stand out there in the middle of the night and hope for an uber to be in the vicinity.

"Brighten up, sunshine," he said, another way too smug expression on his face. "You need to learn how to relax."

"What the hell is wrong with you?" you hissed, throwing one of your shoes at him.

"Jesus, what—I should be the one asking you that."

You threw the second shoe. "I’m not the one driving you insane!"

"You sure about that?" His voice was low, almost raspy, and your gaze snapped to his, almost involuntarily. His eyes seemed to bore straight into your soul, like he was searching for something.

Slowly, he stepped closer to you, his hands roughly grabbing your face. Still, the way he pulled you towards him was almost gentle, his gaze heavy with something you couldn’t pin down. At last, your faces were merely inches apart. You couldn’t breathe.

Then, finally, his lips found yours again, softer this time but no less demanding. You clasped your hands around his neck to keep your balance when he started walking towards you, making you blindly stumble backwards, his arms securely around you when you almost tripped over something on the floor. You didn’t care to open your eyes.

You hissed when your calves hit the stairs sharpy, the pain almost enough to break the spell he put you under. "Ransom—" you tried.

He huffed disapprovingly, his grip tightening, and then he continued walking you up the stairs, letting you lean on him just enough to not lose your balance, the hunger in his eyes growing even as he noticed the uncertainty in yours.

Getting to the second floor took moments. It took hours. His mouth found that spot on your neck again and you shuddered, your grip on him tightening.

"We shouldn't—" You gasped when he nipped at your shoulder. "Shouldn't we talk about this?"

"Do you want to talk?" he snarled, his hands wandering down to your ass. "Or do you want to stop thinking for once in your life and let me make you cum enough times you won't be able to walk tomorrow?"

You grabbed a fistful of his hair and tugged his head backwards until he hissed, forcing him to look at you. The bruise around his eye looked even angrier up close, and you inexplicably found yourself wanting to trace it, not to hurt him more but to soothe.

Instead, you swallowed it down. "Promises, promises," you said.

He didn't need another invitation.

thank you to everyone who voted for this chapter on my most recent poll, it was a close one!! if you want to see more of my writing, check out my masterlist or follow @intrepidacious-fics for update notifications 🧡

[weloveakechi]

Picture this: violin prodigy Goro Akechi, loved and admired by hundreds but still somehow not satisfied by any of it

Then there’s Akira, a thief, lurking in the shadows there to steal the violin, to take back what should have been his. His plan is perfect except Goro shows up and starts practice unexpectedly

And when Goro starts to play Akira cannot stop listening. It is love at first note, not that he realizes it yet. All he knows is he needs the player to go with the instrument to really ruin Shido

He leaves calling cards, critiques on Goro’s playing, his outfit, his music choice. He’s trying to push him away. But Goro is only more determined to do well. He tweaks everything, puts in more effort, refuses poor song choices

It is a dance between them. Threats and notes and then a rose during practice. A bouquet after a performance. Candies and tissues when something goes wrong

And for Goro, he lives for those notes. They’re the first genuine interactions he’s had since before he can remember. No one has ever spoken to him that way before, in writing or otherwise.

They drive him. He has to be better. The best. Perfect. He puts everything into his performances, eyes raking the crowd for a face he only knows as a mask on a card. Heart racing to see the next response to his words put into song. He pushes and pushes and pushes. Leaves a note of his own at last, with a score he has been working on. A song for this phantom Joker. His feelings made into music

He plays that piece that night.

And the letters stop

And he cannot stand it. Without a true audience what reason does he have to play?

So he goes to destroy the violin and walks into the performance hall only to hear it singing beautifully

There, in the same mask drawn on all his cards is Akira, playing the same piece he’d written, each note lovingly pulled from the strings

[volivolition]

DAY 10: EMPATHY - Lost little pearls of light. Tiny fires in the dark.

YAY YIPPEE a collab piece with @euclydya!! it drew the LOVELY linework and i finished the colors/shading!! wah im incredibly happy i got to do an art collab with y'all, thank you so much my beloveds :D!! <333 <222

without overlay!!

[monstermoviedean]

"it's the same in other countries" no the fuck it is not. "yeah in my entirely different field it's exactly the same" no the fuck it is not. literally any anecdote i tell about my (limited!) teaching experience gets me a starbucks drive thru meme response. it is NOT the same. you do not fucking get it.

[thegrimreaperisanerd]

In terms of a Sunday update (Rubber, Meet Ultraviolet) we have two options:

Option A: Since I missed the Sunday upload last week and couldn't post until Wednesday, the next *big* chapter isn't gonna be ready for tomorrow, instead I can post a shorter out of sequence chapter (like chapters 1 and 5 this is another - shorter - metaphor chapter) which was my original plan in the pacing draft I have

Option B: no update tomorrow and instead I post the next big chapter and smaller metaphor chapter.... When they are ready

Sidenote: I don't celebrate Xmas and have no family worth talking to bar my brother so I'm taking a week off as of today then working through the holidays, which SHOULD give me more time to write- and my plan remains to have this fic finished- AND the next two chapters of DUCKLINGS out by the 25th

P.S: people messaging the Palestaticexchange blog- I know, I am sorry, I'd *also* have liked the event up and running for the holidays again but I'm depressed and burnt out- there is A LOT of behind the scenes work and messaging with people that I just don't have the energy for right now- it's a bad time of year for my C-PTSD *shrugs* what can ya do? Maybe come Spring I'll open it again, OR I may give the blog to someone who can manage it better, I haven't decided yet

[james-spooky]

this is a test

[torchickentacos]

The world may change at rapid paces that induce constant emotional whiplash, but at least there's one constant (pokemon xy anime discourse on twitter)

[stabbyfoxandrew]

every time my dad does anything he has to do it in the most annoying and loudest way possible. and honestly i'm not sure if he means to or he's just really goddamn stupid but it's really really grating. and i'm suffering the werewolf curse rn so i'm ready to die

[turtlespancake]

me when i write a character who is prone to dooming themself and then they run off and doom themself. core traits are stubbornness and a willingness to disregard their own humanity gET BACK HERE IM NOT DONE WITH YOU

[fandomcrazy]

This is all based on a dream I had that woke me up coughing my lungs out (not related to the dream, I've just been sick the past few days)

Hawks quirk (from mha if it wasn’t clear) being Robyn's quirk

Her apartment is in the sky (like actually I'm not even joking, it's just hanging there by pure magic) and right across from the lecture hall she takes notes from with her super vision (part of the quirk ig)

Steve becomes her roommate

Before she meets steve she's known nancy for a while now

Nancy think steve might not know Robyn's a lesbian but Robyn let's her know that "no yeha I told him everything we've been talking about this hot girl that literally everyone in town knows and how her nose is so perfect and how she's so graceful and-"

"Yes Robyn I get the point" Nancy says.

Steve up until this point just thought they were making conversation and was getting to know his potential date. His world view comes crashing down after only hearing Robyn's side of the conversation with Nancy on the phone.

Steve has a mental quirk so it doesn't outwardly show that much except for the little details around his body. Robyn doesn't know what the quirk is (neither do i honestly) and doesn’t remember to ask. Steve appreciates this and is large bonus to having Robyn as his roommate/friend(?).

Most people don't like going to Robyn's apartment because you need to activate your quirk to get there and you need to be synced up with her security feed, which takes a lot of patience and time to do. Steve feels conflicted about hearing this. On one hand it's good because that guarantees almost no one will be able to get to him here but he has to use his quirk everytime he wants to go home.

Now the rest of the Hawkins gang have all been synced up to the security monitor just in case, except for the quirkless and mutation type quirks but they still have a system for that. Almost everyone asks Robyn once in a while if she can just fly them there instead of them activating probably dangerous or embarrassing or not easily accessible quirks. No one else except robyn in the Hawkins gang has a transmutation quirk until Eddie comes along with bat wings on his back at all times. Robyn are the same in that sense, that they can both fly but Eddie can't exactly fly over large bodies of water and he's not as fast as her. No one is as fast as Robyn everyone in the party has agreed.

Robyn knows what she's capable of. She knows she could easily cheat during tests or quizzes at her university without getting caught but she just. Doesn't want to. She wants to prove to herself that she can accomplish something without resorting to taking the easy way out. If she has to bomb 3/4 of tests she takes than so be it as long as she doesn't get thrown put of the university she doesn't care. She'll work double shifts if it means getting to prove that she can do things herself. (This might or might not lead to her slowly neglecting herself and her needs, needing someone to make her understand spreading herself so thin she can barely hold her wings up in the sky is not proving anything to anyone, especially herself(Steve says all this yall, maybe less eloquently but the point gets across)). Maybe this all started from a young age when her parents expected a lot from her, expected her to solve all their problems for them (maybe financial? Idk) and it just made her more convinced to not do anything for themn, but for herself. And although, at the time, this kind of thinking was healthy, it was not sustainable in the long run after separating herself from them in the future.

Oh uhhh heros and villains don't exist, quirks and criminals exist. There is technology created that stuns a persons quirk factor and makes them immobile (paralyzed) temporarily. This technology was used on Steve as a child to make him more "docile".

I like to give as much angst to characters that I think would look hot being pathetic wet dogs-

Robyn and Nancy end up together obvi (if you didn't catch it up there, Nancy was a little jealous of Robyn talking about someone she might be interested in like that that isn't her (that was literally her who Robyn described but whatever)).

Steve and Eddie

And literally anyone else you want to ship I'm a big elmax or elumax supporter and Dustin being steddie's kid basically

Also why the fuck is nobody talking about the sass potential with Dustin and Erica friendship?? They're like copy paste stobyn but with a different font that makes them roast everyone else instead of each other

Anyway don't take any of this too seriously it only took like 30 minutes (that's a lot fo time holy shit 💀😭😭 I'm a slow writer) and no brain power because, again, I just woke up with a coughing fit that probably made me lose a lung. I should probably check on that.

Anyway, BYEEEEE

[lover-of-mine]

Yk I'm always thinking about Buck Actually and the talk Buck has with Thomas and the whole "you don't find it, son, you make it" and the way Buck looked at Thomas dying right after Mitchell holding his hand and the way some part of Buck looked at them and connected love with death and now keeps trying to make something to the point that it would kill him. He heard that the type of love he wants comes from work and decided he needs wear himself down to get it and it's just devastating.

[honeyjynxxed]

DeadTired Draft

"You're very good at pretending to be a shadow."

Tim's voice shook Danny from his quiet note taking and he looked up at his study partner with furrowed brows and confusion on his face. "I'm sorry?" It was as much a question as it was an apology which meant it was neither really.

Electric blue eyes pinned him in place, and Tim looked at Danny as if he had just said the sky was green. "If I had not been partnered with you in our ecology class I wouldn't know you exist. No one at this school knows you exist besides the staff and even then you're a name to a face to a grade. Nothing else. You're very good at pretending to be a shadow, a bodiless thing gliding along the edges of society."

Danny bit his lip slightly, mulling these words over. Tim was right of course, he never allowed himself to make waves, he stuck to the background of any place he was in, and really he was surprised that he wasn't more noticeable with how often Tim Drake-Wayne was his study partner. "I guess...I've never really like attention anyway. Why, you stalking me, Drake?" He raised a brow at the other boy, attempting to hide his confusion behind snark. He hardly ever used Tim's last name, either of them, but this seemed like an appropriate time to do so.

"Hiding something, Nightingale?" Tim snarked back but there was a bit of genuine questioning under his tone that had Danny tensing up in his sit, gripping his pencil a little too tightly in his left hand. "I can only contact you through your student email, you don't have a phone number or a phone period as far as I can tell, you have a laptop that barely works and seemingly requires a blood sacrifice to do the most basic of tasks. You live on campus but you never let me see your dorm, you never agree to meet me anywhere but the library on campus and I just-" He lets out a heavy sigh and runs his hands through his hair and suddenly Danny is a lot less tense in his seat. When Tim's eyes settle on him again there's genuine concern there and it breaks his heart. "I am worried. Daniel Nightingale doesn't exist outside of this college and it makes me think you're running from something or someone. If that isn't the cause then by all means please tell me I'm overstepping but Danny..." Tim reaches across the table that separates them and grabs at his free hand. "If you need help I'm here, ok?"

And oh...oh Danny's core positively sings in his chest at the admission. Protection was a major obsession for Danny and the way Tim talked, the way he explained his thought process, it made Danny feel warm and fuzzy inside despite the permanent chill in his body. Tim wanted to protect him and wasn't that so sweet? "I-" Danny stuttered before a sad smile was spreading across his lips and he gave the boy's hand a gentle squeeze. "I appreciate that but unless you have a way to somehow get an entire government organization disbanded and legislature revoked then I'm afraid this is out of your ballpark."

And really, Danny should've known better than to open his fat mouth. He should've known that the Fenton luck would bite him in the ass with his first real friend since Sam and Tucker. Tim may have dropped the conversation after that but by no means had he dropped the topic entirely. No instead apparently he had somehow gotten into contact with the Justice League because less than two weeks later Batman, Red Robin, Superman, and John Constantine of all people were waiting for him inside his dorm when he got back from a late night of studying.

What.

The.

Fuck.