#chapter 979

[calekinnieplus]

“Dear Mr. Azik,”

While in the Southern Continent, Klein had written about Adam’s obtaining of 0-08, his successful revenge on Ince Zangwill with the help of Leonard and Daly. He then summoned the messenger via the copper whistle and sent it to the sleeping Mr. Azik. Without a doubt, he had yet to receive a reply to date.

Awwwww that's so cute :') their relationship is adorable...

[algumaideia]

Luffy went alone kkkkk and then Zoro went after him worst combination ever

Kkkkk Robin would go with Franky but not with Sanji

Oj the poor girl Luffy got in mad mode

[larkreadsop]

Jinbe hasn’t been around long enough to realize that letting Luffy and Zoro go off and do anything on their own will never end well

[it-happened-one-fic]

Steal Away - Malleus

Author Notes: I wrote this fic a little while back and its just been gathering dust in my documents until now. I guess you could say this fic is a bit of a callback to simpler times pre-Diasomnia chapter, though it doesn't have to be specifically set at that time. This fic was written while I listed to the song “Steal Away” by Robbie Dupree. As per usual, reader is gender neutral. I hope you enjoy!

Type: Gender neutral reader/ sfw/ fluff/

Word Count: 979

I slipped quietly out of the front door and onto the porch of Ramshackle Dorm. My eyes quickly finding the shadowy figure that had drawn me out of my warm bed and into the chilled night.

Most people would probably be distressed by seeing a tall, horned figure out in their front yard in the dead of night. But I wasn’t concerned. After all, I happened to know the young man whose lilting humming currently filled the otherwise silent darkness quite well.

“Hornton,” He turned at the sound of my voice, bright green eyes widening slightly as he spotted me before he relaxed once more.

“Child of man, I wasn’t sure if I should expect you after you didn’t come out to greet me last time….”

And there it was. His signature pout. It was hard to believe that anyone could find this man terrifying when I was looking at him like this. Especially considering that he let me call him ‘Hornton’ of all things.

“Sorry about that… I guess I must’ve been really tired the other day,” His expression softened as I explained my absence from whenever his last visit had been.

There was a slight smile on his face as he tilted his head, “Is your daily toiling so great that you fall into such a deep slumber when the evening comes?”

I laughed slightly at his odd way of phrasing before shaking my head, “Well, Crowley and school together do keep me pretty busy, but I think I was just sleeping really well.”

His smile turned amused as he continued to gaze at me, “And what of tonight? Does sleep evade you, Child of Man?”

I blinked up at him before shrugging, “Maybe a little? I just saw you and wasn’t really that tired, so I came out to chat.” 

And it was true. Up until the moment I’d seen Malleus’s glistening faerie lights, I’d been curled up in bed listening to Grim’s soft snores, feeling totally incapable of falling asleep.

He hummed in response before turning to glance into the distance before looking back my way with a distinct frown, “It seems I shall not be staying long this evening.”

His pout had returned, and it wasn’t hard to guess why. Sebek and Silver were no doubt out looking for him, and that meant he would either be returning to Diasomnia or giving them slip yet again.

I reached out, patting his arm affectionately as I grinned at him, amused by his sulking, “Hey, it’s okay. I doubt this will be your last evening escapade.”

His eyes widened in an almost comical fashion as he echoed me, “Escapade?” His gaze turned thoughtful, and he seemed to look past me, at some distant point of interest, before reaching a sudden decision.

A grin that I could only describe as evil crossed his pale face as he looked at me and held out a gloved hand, “A splendid idea, Child of man. Shall we steal away?”

I blinked up at him, startled and with widened eyes, before fumbling out a reply, “Wha- What?”

He chuckled, a low sound that, accompanied by his gleaming, unnaturally green eyes, made him both appear and sound distinctly villainous. 

Maybe I actually could understand why some of my classmates were wary of him. Just a little…

“An escapade. Would you like to come with me?” His explanation confirmed my suspicions. 

The great Malleus Draconia, heir to the throne of the Valley of Thorns, was asking me if I wanted to help him avoid his bodyguards and play hooky.

It was an impulsive decision, and I honestly wondered if Ace’s troublesome ways were beginning to influence me, but I found myself slipping my hand into his nonetheless, “Just for a bit, we don’t want to worry them too much.”

His grin was now positively devious as his fingers curled around my hand as if he were claiming some sort of prize, “They would be fine even if I stayed away all evening.”

I squeezed his hand slightly and grinned back at him as I teasingly scolded him, “Behave.”

He chuckled again before tugging me over towards him and wrapping an arm around me. I stumbled slightly but managed to catch myself against him before I looked up at him as the strangely firefly-like green lights began to float around us. A signal that he was just about to use his magic and teleport to some place.

In the distance, I could hear Sebek calling for his lord, but I ignored him in favor of questioning Malleus, “Where to?”

His gaze met mine, and he squeezed me ever so slightly in a half-hug before turning his bright-eyed gaze towards the sky with a truly villainous grin, “Where else? Into the night, of course.”

There was a floating sensation and flash, and then we were gone. Leaving the front yard of Ramshackle dorm empty as both knights came walking up. One, perfectly calm even as the other one agitatedly scanned the area.

“LORD MALLEUS?” Sebek’s yell shattered the silence of the night as Silver shook his head.

“It looks like they’ve already left,” His voice was distinctly tired sounding as he trailed off in a yawn that had Sebek looking at him irritably.

“Who are they? The only person I’m concerned with is Lord Malleus!” Silver sighed almost immediately at Sebek’s intonation before looking at him meaningfully.

“Malleus and Y/n. We should leave them be. Father said having friends was good for Malleus,” And with only those words, Silver turned and started to stroll away. Leaving a sputtering Sebek to follow him.

“Bu- But… A HUMAN?”

“Quiet Sebek. You won’t want to wake the ghosts like you did last time,” Silver hardly even missed a beat as he continued on his way. Leaving you to spend time with Malleus for as long as your shared escapade lasted.

[wewereborntomakehistory]

How Do I Do This?

Fandom: Chicago PD/One Chicago

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Female!Reader; Kelly Severide x Platonic!Reader; Stella Kidd x Platonic!Reader

Warning/s: Mentions of Divorce, Anxiety and Alcohol Consumption

Request: No

Word Count: 979

A/N: This is based off of the song, How do I do This? by Kelsea Ballerini. You don’t need to listen to the song to get this by any means but I recommend you do! It’s a song that’s been on my mind for a while and I just love Kelsea’s music as a whole! It got a little away from me so apologies for that! I’m also still working on requests and some more chapters of my Jay Halstead fic so please be patient with me.

Enjoy!

***

Are you free Saturday? I know a spot

Those two texts come in rapid succession as you finish cleaning the store up. You’d usually try to avoid checking your phone so often in front of your manager, but by this time you were usually the only one left.

What did you have in mind?

You erase the message in-between organizing the new book shipment.

Saturday? That’s a little too close for me.

You erase that message while balancing the books for that day.

By the time you lock up the store and head home, you had thought up a couple million ways to respond before erasing them. Putting your key in the lock and you finally respond with a simple Yes.

Your next thought was right before you slid into bed for the night. Where the hell is your dress?

Specifically, your little black one that showed off all of your curves. The one that was probably lonely from being unused for so many years.

Having split from your husband over a year ago and trying to start fresh back in Chicago, you were worrying yourself into a spiral. You hadn’t been on a date since you were 22 and you were feeling out of place, getting back into the dating scene at 29.

You and your ex had grown apart from the moment your marriage started. You had done everything you could to keep everything together. You—being the one who made more money—had bought a big house. One that had room for you two to grow a family and have a backyard for a dog. It felt right at the time, maybe it would be enough so the walls didn’t seem like they were closing in.

You and your ex had been fine. But that’s all you were…fine. You finally convinced him to do therapy with you and, unfortunately, the final straw for you was when you realized that he loved you more at 23, then at 27.

You had filed for divorce not long after that. He claimed he hadn’t seen it coming, and fought you for the house. You gave into it, wanting him to just sign the papers and be done with it. In the end, when you signed your lease back in your home city of Chicago you finally checked the box “divorced.”

It had been quite the change, getting used to being back in the city. You contacted one of your oldest friends, Kelly Severide, to hang out and catch up.

It was at one of those meet ups that you met Kelly’s girlfriend, Stella Kidd, and the two of you hit it off instantly.

Now a year later, Stella and Kelly were getting ready to get married, and you voiced your thoughts to them about dating again. Stella said that she had a friend who was your type.

You had no idea what that meant, but after a few failed attempts at signing up for one of those awful dating apps, you gave Stella permission for her to give her friend your number.

The day after the first two texts were sent, he texted you again saying: Great! I’ll pick you up at 7.

You remembered at 22 being a little more cautious about a man picking you up for a date, but you trusted Kelly and Stella so you tried trusting this guy too.

It was hard, everything you’ve ever known about dating, relationships, and love had been ruined with the breakdown of your marriage. Now you wished it wasn’t affecting your thoughts this long after.

So is it any wonder that it’s 6:52 on Saturday and you’re trying to reassure yourself by saying you got this during your last looks in the mirror.

“You’ll be fine,” Kelly was saying over the speakerphone as you contemplated taking a shot to calm your nerves, “Do you think we don’t have your best interest at heart?”

“Kelly,” you say plainly, “It’s been years since I’ve been on a date. I’m gonna look so stupid stumbling over myself and what if he brings up my marriage? You told him about that right? How do I fucking do this? Is it wrong if I take a shot of something?”

“Stella,” you hear Kelly call from his end, obviously feeling like he needed backup, “she’s freaking out.”

“Yes I am.” You almost growl in confirmation, “I blame you both for this. What was I thinking?”

“Relax, girl,” Stella’s voice says over the line in a reassuring tone, “I got you. Look, I’ve known Jay for a while okay, and I’m sure you’ll charm the socks off of him.”

“Oh god,” you say, slapping a hand to your forehead almost dramatically, “I know he’s too good to be true. What have you done, Stella.”

“Breathe, Y/N,” Kelly says, his voice clear and unyielding.

There was a knock on the door. You jump slightly, looking up at the clock on the stove. 7:00 on the dot.

You curse, telling Kelly and Stella that he was there. They told you to have fun and they’ll call you later for details before immediately hanging up on you.

Cursing your friends once more, you open the door, and your breath lapses. You were going to kill Stella for understating his looks by saying he was “good-looking”.

He was much more than good-looking. He was gorgeous. His dark hair was cut evenly. His eyes were a mix of blue and green and freckles littered across his features. He was dressed for a date, his outfit lining the structures of his body. You feel slightly better about choosing your black dress for this, you may even want to wake up tomorrow with it on a floor that isn’t yours.

I’m ready, you tell yourself in your head.

And for the first time since this whole thing started, you believe it.

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

Batman vs. The Thing

by V (xHailland) Batman typically has a plan for biologically different threats. He can easily dismantle creatures like Gentleman Ghost and Clayface - but the second he comes across an otherworldly creature, he has some challenges to overcome in order to come up with a plan. Words: 979, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: DCU, DCU (Comics), DC Animated Universe (Timmverse), The Thing (1982) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Characters: Bruce Wayne, The Thing (The Thing) Additional Tags: Crossover, Bruce Wayne is Batman via https://ift.tt/y2zkuhx

[dave-of-cyscara]

cymod dm'ed me for the first time literally just to tell me to read trash of count's family and then sent me a link to a website with *checks number* 979 chapters and is still ongoing

cymod

cymod why

[w1nd0ws10]

Fallen Emily season 1 chapter 36 pt2 The End

draws by me https://www.instagram.com/steven_universe_lightpaint/profilecard/?igsh=MWpzcW5leXhyMXd3NQ==

inspired by this story https://www.wattpad.com/1463863212?utm_source=ios&utm_medium=link&utm_content=share_reading&wp_page=reading_part_end&wp_uname=Carlo1536

season 2 already available on wattpad

[randomperson99sworld]

Ruffled Feathers 🪶

~ Part 13 ~

Summary: Julia Morgan, Bobby's niece, has always been a royal thorn in Dean Winchesters ass since the day they met 1 year ago at Bobby's memorial. She wants to be a hunter, he thinks she's a dumb kid playing dress up. Will she always be seen as an unwanted load in Dean's eyes or will he see something more?

Pairing: Dean x OC

Warnings: Age gap, language, sexual themes (used lightly) , PHYSICAL ABUSE (Not by Dean).

Word Count: 979

A/N: How we feeling about the chapter? As stated always, this story is cross posted to my Wattpad. Happy reading! ��️

Dean had barely pulled into the driveway when he noticed something was off. Julia's car was parked haphazardly, and her usually tidy yard looked like it had been neglected. It had been a week since he'd dropped her off after the Wendigo hunt, and she had gone completely silent—no texts, no calls. And that wasn't like Julia.

After cutting the engine, Dean headed up to her front door, already on edge. He knocked once, then twice, harder the second time, listening for any sign of movement inside. When the door finally creaked open, Julia stood there, looking pale and worn down, a shadow of the woman he'd been fighting monsters with just days ago.

But what hit Dean hardest was the black eye she was sporting. His jaw clenched, anger bubbling up in his chest instantly.

"What the hell happened?" he demanded, stepping inside without being invited.

Julia closed the door behind him and leaned against it, avoiding his gaze. "Nothing," she mumbled, her voice hollow.

"Bullshit." Dean's voice was sharp, sharper than he intended, but he couldn't help it. He pointed at her bruised face. "That doesn't look like 'nothing,' Julia. Who did this?"

She sighed, crossing her arms tightly over her chest as if she could protect herself from the weight of his question. "It's not important."

"It sure as hell is," Dean growled, stepping closer. "If someone put their hands on you, they're gonna wish they hadn't."

Julia shook her head. "Dean, just drop it, okay? I've had enough for one week."

Dean's eyes narrowed, but he stayed silent, waiting for her to continue. Something was seriously wrong, and he wasn't leaving until he got the full story.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Julia relented. "My mom passed away. Last week."

Dean blinked, taken aback. He hadn't known. "Jesus, Julia... I didn't know. I'm sorry."

She shook her head again, her lips pressing into a thin line. "Yeah, well... I didn't go to the funeral. My dad's pissed about it. We had a little... altercation at her grave when I stopped by to pay my respects."

"Your dad did that to you?" Dean's voice was deadly calm, but the anger simmering beneath it was unmistakable.

Julia gave him a humorless laugh. "I guess I didn't expect anything else. He's always been that way—always ready to throw a punch when things don't go his way. This time was just... the last straw. I'm done with him. I'm done with all of them."

Dean could feel his blood boiling, his hands itching to hit something—or someone—but he forced himself to stay calm for her sake. "Why didn't you tell me?" His voice was softer now, the anger replaced with concern.

"Because it's not your problem," she said, finally meeting his eyes. "And because I didn't want to make it one."

Dean frowned, his anger fading, replaced with something deeper. "You're wrong about that, Julia. You're my... friend, and you don't have to go through this crap alone."

Julia exhaled shakily, and for the first time since he'd walked through the door, she seemed to let her guard down. "I've been going through it alone for most of my life, Dean. That's why I was always at Bobby's. Anytime my family got too much, I'd run to him. It was like... my safe place."

Dean's expression softened as the pieces started falling into place. "Bobby never mentioned that."

Obviously you idiot, you never even met her until a year after his death.

"He didn't know the full extent," she admitted. "I didn't want to burden him with all my baggage. I just... he taught me how to fight, how to shoot, how to stand up for myself. Gave me the tools I needed to get the hell out of that house and not look back."

Dean felt his throat tighten. He understood that. God, did he understand that. Bobby had been more than a mentor for him, too. "You weren't a burden, Julia. Bobby would've been proud of you for how strong you've become."

Julia swallowed hard, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill. "I just didn't want to let him down."

Dean stepped closer, his hand resting gently on her shoulder. "You didn't. And you're not alone in this, okay? You've got me, and you've got Sam. We're your family now."

She nodded, the tension in her body easing just a little. "Thanks, Dean."

Dean's gaze lingered on her bruised face. "You sure you're okay?"

"I will be," she said, her voice steadier now. "I just... need to move on. I'm done with my dad, and I'm done letting that part of my life control me."

Dean's jaw flexed, but he didn't push it any further. "If he ever touches you again..."

"He won't," Julia said firmly. "Because I'm not giving him the chance."

Dean nodded, respecting her decision. But that didn't stop the anger that burned in his chest, knowing someone had hurt her like that. He wasn't sure if he was more mad at her father or the fact that she hadn't let him help sooner.

"You're a pain in the ass, you know that?" Dean finally muttered, trying to lighten the mood. "But I'm glad you're okay."

Julia managed a small smile. "You're not exactly a walk in the park yourself, Winchester."

He chuckled, the tension between them easing just a little. But deep down, Dean knew that this wasn't something Julia would bounce back from easily. She was tough, but everyone had their breaking point.

As he turned to leave, Dean shot her one last look, his voice serious. "If you ever need anything... you know where to find me."

Julia nodded. "I do."

And for the first time, Dean felt like maybe, just maybe, he was starting to understand her a little more.

[filmtv2022]

Moving Foward: Chapter 1 (18+ MDNI)

Next Chapter

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Kazansky!Reader 

Summary: Y/N Kazansky is many things. A loyal daughter, a world-class fighter pilot, and a fierce protector of those she holds most dear. But beyond the shiny exterior is a wounded woman looking to find her way back to the life she'd known and loved. When a mission brings her back to Top Gun, she is forced to confront the sins of her past while focusing on the uncertain future falling into place in front of her. 

Warnings: Nothing really for this first chapter, but later installments will certainly be 18+. 

Word Count: 1, 979

A/N: The idea for this story kind of came as a surprise to me, but I knew that couldn't let it go once it took root in my mind. I hope that you all enjoy this first chapter, and I promise there will be more Bradley moments very soon. I'm excited for their relationship to change and grow as the story progresses.  I make no promises on how quickly I will update this story, but I hope that you'll stick with me as I get back into my writing flow. Additionally, I apologize for any and all mistakes.

The Southern California sunset kissed your skin, the warmth radiating down to your bones. Pulling off your helmet, you locked it in the top box of your motorcycle before striding across the parking lot toward the Hardeck. A familiar bike was parked a few spots away, the sight of it brought a flurry of emotions. The bar wasn’t yet crowded, and the faint sound of the jukebox poured out into the world as you threw open the front door.

Carefully you pulled the aviators from your face, hanging them by a bow on your bomber jacket. The leather was filled to the brim with patches, each one a physical reminder of the job that consumed your life. Glancing around the sparsely populated bar, it took no time to find the person you were looking for, his focus concentrated on the cell phone in his hand. Closing the distance between you and the older man, you couldn’t help but make yourself known. 

“You struggling to read that phone old man?” 

Maverick’s head snapped up to find the voice that had just spoken to him, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes deepening as a wide smile spread across his face. Standing up to greet you, his strong arms pulled you into a hug before holding you at arm’s length and giving you a once-over. 

“Y/N Kazansky, my God look at you!” 

“Pete Mitchell, how the hell are you? I kinda can’t believe he managed to get you back here. You must’ve royally fucked up this time.” 

Breathing a laugh through his nose, Mav took a moment before responding, “Yeah, well… your father’s very persuasive. And they are called orders for a reason.” 

“That is very true.” 

“Now, here’s the real question, how are you feeling?” Maverick’s green eyes were serious as he captured your hands in his and guided you both down onto seats at the bar. 

“Cleared to fly, so there’s that,” wanting nothing more than avoid this topic, you averted your gaze from his. 

“That’s not what I asked.” 

“Don’t give me that look, Mav. What do you want me to say?” 

“It’s the only one I’ve got, and I want you to answer my question. No bullshit.” 

“I feel fine, Uncle Pete. The Navy says I’m good, so I'm good. Can we please not talk about this right now?” 

“All right, we can do that.” 

“Thank you,” inhaling deeply you sat back on your seat, “I missed you ya know.” 

“Missed you too kid. Can I even call you that anymore?” 

“Only if I can keep calling you ‘old man’ ”

The tension began to fall away allowing for easy conversation to flow. Several minutes passed before someone returned to the bar to take your order, their surprised voice cut directly into the story Pete was telling. 

“Jesus, a Mitchell, and a Kazansky are sitting at my bar. What the hell did I do to deserve this?” 

Looking up, you couldn’t help but smirk at the woman standing before you, “Come on now, Penny. You wound me, when have I ever caused a problem? 

“Oh, it’s not you I’m worried about, it’s that one,” gesturing to Pete with the glass in her hand she continued to speak as she wiped down the countertop “Better judgment seems to disappear when he’s around.” 

“Can’t argue with that,” you and Penny shared a laugh at Maverick’s expense, his scoff audible. 

“Here ya go, Lieutenant,” Penny slid a tall glass of what had always been your favorite beer across the bar, letting it come to rest in front of you. 

“Uhh… thanks, Pen, but can I just get some ice water?” 

“Sure,” her eyebrows knitted together at your request. Penny and Maverick shared a look as she turned to fill up a glass with water. A question was clearly written over her features but now wasn’t the time to discuss it. Knowing this, Mav shook his head ‘no’ nearly imperceptibly. He knew why there had been a change, and that you’d share when and if you were ready. 

“There ya go,” a fresh glass of ice water sat on the counter in front of you now, a slice of lime hanging on the rim as the sides already started to form condensation.

“So, Pete, what are you doing here?” Penny’s eyes narrowed as she assessed him, her gaze leaving no room for escape. 

“I could ask you the same thing.” 

Feeling the shift in conversation you decided this was your moment to exit, there would be plenty of time in the coming weeks to catch up with your godfather, “All right, I’m gonna take this as my sign to go. Have a great night you two. Oh and Penny, don’t be afraid to ring that bell.” 

With your drink in hand, you slipped off the stool and headed toward the pool tables, determined to snag one of the high tops before the rest of the evening rush hit the bar. Golden light continued to melt into the space warming the leather seats closest to the windows. The heat was just enough to be felt through your jeans as you pulled yourself up into the high chair. It’d been a long time since you’d been home in San Diego, and it was nights like this with the perfect temperature and blue sky painted in bold oranges and pinks that made you nostalgic for a time in your life when things were simpler. A time when death seemed like a far-off concept. 

Sipping the cool water, you tried to focus on the roll of the waves against the shore. The rhythm settled your heartbeat with each wash over the sand. Lost in the beauty, you missed the sound of approaching steps, it was only the loud boom of his voice that yanked you from your peaceful daydream.

“Is that Y/N Kazansky? Look here Coyote, it’s a shining example of nepotism in the wild.” turning to look at his friend, he started to speak again before looking back at you, “You cleared to fly yet, Riot? Or did the Navy finally decide to ground your ass for good?” 

“Leave me alone, Seresin.” 

“Oh come on, sweetheart. I’m just askin’ the question we all want to know.”

“Fuck you, Bagman.”

“Oh, don’t be bitter… I’m just speakin’ the truth.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t give a shit,” fully over this interaction, you made to leave, on your way out you heard Hangman’s voice rise over the crowd once more. Yet again, insulting fellow aviators. It seemed to be the only way he knew how to speak. 

“What do we have here? If it ain’t Phoenix. And here I thought we were special, Coyote. Turns out the invite went to anyone.”

Choosing to ignore the conversation unfolding back at the pool table, you continued to make your exit. A quick stop at the bar to drop off your glass and then you were on your way out officially. The warm air flooded around you as your boots hit the gravel. Not wanting to stop, you kept your eyes down focusing solely on the crunch of the stones beneath your feet. You were almost back to your bike when the sound of music blasting from a car radio yanked your attention back up. Your heart stuttered in your chest at the sight before you. 

Frozen in place you watched as Bradley Bradshaw threw his Bronco into park and flung open the door. His Hawaiian shirt fluttered in the wind as he slammed the door behind himself. From a distance, it was easy to stare, to take in the way that time had changed the man you once knew even better than yourself. It was easy to forget for a second just how much had happened, just how broken the pair of you had become.

Not wanting to draw attention to yourself, you waited until Bradley had disappeared inside the building. Satisfied that he wouldn’t be returning anytime soon, you grabbed your helmet and prepared to ride. The engine grumbled life below you, and in a matter of seconds, you powered your way out of the lot. 

The ride home was short, but even so, it flew by in record time. Whether that was due to your speed or lack of concentration... it’d be difficult to know. The light in the kitchen could be seen as you walked up to the front door. Pushing it open, you followed the glow. And there she sat, her face in her hands staring down at the papers on the table. 

“Hey, Mom. Everything okay?” 

Startling, her light brown curls bounced, her hand flying up to clutch her chest, “Oh, Jesus Y/N you scared me. Yeah, everything is fine sweetie. Just some bills.” 

Standing quickly, she pushed back from the table, taking the papers with her. Her slippers scuffed lightly over the wood floor as she busied herself, refolding the towel in front of the oven multiple times before moving to unload the dishwasher. 

“You’re home early. Did you have a nice time with your uncle? How was he?” 

“It was good, yeah. He seemed anxious to be back here, but he’s doin’ good,” your body sagged at the memory of how the evening had actually turned out.  

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay, honey?” 

“I’m fine, just a little tired. Is umm… is dad still up?” 

“No, sweetheart, he went to bed a while ago.” 

“Oh, okay,” taking a pause you let your emotions settle for a second, “I’ll just talk to him later I guess.” 

“You know you can always talk to me, right?” 

“I know, Mom,” pulling her in tight for a hug, you inhaled deeply taking in the smell of her perfume. The floral sweetness enveloped your sense, easing the tension in your shoulders a little, “I love you.”

“Love you too.” 

You let go of the hug first, dropping the hold on your mother, and giving her a kiss on the temple before moving away down the hall to the stairs. The steps were steady under your feet as your hand slid up the banister. One step at a time you reached the landing, and turned left toward the room that had been yours since childhood.

With the door closed firmly, you practically fell down onto the worn mattress. Your back burned with a dull ache, while the throbbing in your left knee and hip pulsed more acutely. The pain had become your constant companion. In the darkness of the unlit room, it was difficult to see beyond tonight, beyond the hurt, beyond the nightmares that sat just out of sight, but you’d made a promise. A promise to keep going. Tomorrow would be a new day, a fresh chance to find your way back to what you’d been before… if that was even a possibility. 

[asukaskerian]

monthly word count + year total

TOTAL FOR DECEMBER: 3 844 words. ..hhghgb i thought it was moooore

POSTED: nothing.

IN PROGRESS: -madatobiizu ABO cherry wine verse (979 words) -bleach pack fuckening ABO verse, baby cuteness (450 words) -bleach suburban ot4 (1 414 words) -bleach psychic wolves (377 words) -bleach bloodsport (624 words)

--

YEARLY TOTAL:

jan: 4 700 feb: 6 014 mar: 4 512 apr: 4 889 may: 1 719 jun: 1 184 jul: 2 271 aug: 1 615 sep: 3 026 oct: 2 109 nov: 4 272 dec: 3 844 TOTAL: 40 155 AVERAGE: 3 346.25

yeah so the downward trend is getting obvious. HHHHHH.

2010: 136 235, average: 11 353/month. ... :X :X :X 2011: 167 675, average: 13 973/month. :X 2012: 332 396, average: 27 700/month. eeeeeeee. 2013: 396 917, average: 33 076/month !!!!!!!! 2014: 315 332, average: 26 276/month ... :X 2015: 206 403, average: 17 200/month. 2016: 127 495, average: 10 625/month. >:( 2017: 80 828, average: 6 736/month. .__. 2018: 128 033, avergage: 10 669/month. FUCK YOU 2017. 2019: 159 609, average: 13 300/month. huh! 2020: 105 791, average: 8 816/month. ... hhghhrhhhhhhhhhhhhhh flops. 2021: 101 776, average: 8 481.33/month. =__= 2022: 73 461, average: 6 121.75/month. hhAHHJZVB WORSE THAN 2017 2023: 40 155, average: 3 346.25/month. this used to be three months' worth. hgh.

FICS I POSTED THIS YEAR:

-Howling Outside Your Door : Grimmichi pack fuckening : Chapters 5, 6 and Epilogue -Cherry wine chapter 8 (madatobiizu ABO) -Ichigo centric sequelette to Howling Outside Your Door (grimmichi pack fuckening ABO)

I did work on suburban ot4 and STILL don't wanna post it in public but otherwise it's still all half-dying fics trying to crawl back to the surface. no new ideas or anything. this *sucks.*

--

have some teasers anyway.

-- cherry wine --

"Don't joke. The cheeky omegas are already coming out of the woodwork as it is."

"Ah… Yes? Your fault for reacting to that girl the other day. Now they think that's your type."

Madara didn't truly change his posture but suddenly he looked a little more tired. "I thought that was why Raiha's niece seemed to have had a personality transplant."

"Aheh." Izuna hadn't even been sure he had noticed. "Mmh. Yes."

Huffing, his brother leaning on one elbow, fist mashed against his mouth grumpily, and glowered at the Lightning envoys who were doing nothing to ask for it.

"I didn't even want her, I just thought she was amusing. Who even wants to take someone to bed that they could break in two sneezing too hard?"

Izuna tried not to look too amused as the Lightning envoys went to sit and the Water ones started up the alley, lest they take it personally.

"Hm, yes, let's not tell people you like dangerous shinobi better, if that's all the same to you. They'd have a much better chance of assassinating you."

Madara threw him an irritated glare that became a watchful glance over Izuna's shoulder. Izuna fanned himself absently and took his time turning to see which of the Water Country envoys had --

Hm.

Hm.

Why was this little blond brat dragging behind to grin at Tobirama.

--

bleach pack fuckening ABO

Ichigo feels so stupidly nervous watching Grimmjow's pack investigate his apartment. His apartment with the huge bath he never uses and the sunken living room-couch area and fuck, all his pillows and blankets are in the cupboards after the grueling wash they all needed last time his pack stayed over. Renji makes a mean cocktail but by god they stain.

He's going to look like he's trying too hard if he gets out the cushions now, isn't he.

"You, uh. Need--"

"You going to close the wards, Shinigami?"

Ugh. Ichigo makes a face at the blond one. He seems to remember he's an asshole.

Wait, they're all assholes. They hang out with Grimmjow. Have to be just to survive him, no doubt.

As he turns to seal the wards again, he catches a glimpse of the man himself, standing wih shoulders loose and hip cocked as he surveys the place. In the crook of his arm is the b-- his -- Ichigo does up the wards.

--

suburban ot4

"Ichigo made a pretty big decision on his own, and he didn't talk to me. He shared it with this other person as a, a done deal thing, and he didn't even talk to me about it."

Grimmjow whistles low and quiet between his teeth. "Yeowch. I'll dig a hole behind the gazebo."

Orihime blinks. "To put his--"

"Corpse, yeah, I'll make it square so it doesn't pop up too much, we just gotta fold him up a bit."

"… Pff."

"Plant some flowers on top to make it look legit with the loose soil. Gorgeous blooms."

Orihime presses both hands against her mouth, and still cackles. "Mean!"

"Or hey, tomatoes, some peppers. Delicious."

She giggles some more. Ah, it fixes nothing, and yet it's like being tickled out of a heavy coat. Freeing, like she can breathe a bit better as it drops around her feet.

"Sounds -- hehe, sounds good. Adzuki beans? Mm, I could make my own paste."

He smirks, just a little bit.

"… Haaaaa. I should probably try talking with him before the… gardening."

Grimmjow-san scoffs. "Quitter."

"Grimmjow-san!"

"Yeah, yeah, maybe. I mean, you're giving up an occasion of growing his namesake on the corpse of the guy who wronged you, which is the coldest, most badass shit, but you do you. Tch'."

… She'll feel a little bad in a minute that she laughed, because strawberry jokes are the lowest of -- hahaha -- hanging fruits.

--

bloodsport (ichigo, charlotte, luppi)

"… What's your names, anyway," he mumbled a fifteen minutes' bullet train ride later. "And do I, um. Pronouns."

Being laughed at was almost more of a relief than it was embarrassing.

"Listen, home is just kinda -- hngh. I mean? Gay people exist--"

The small one's face spasmed; their emotions -- yeah, Ichigo didn't want to notice that howling disbelief or the edge of hysterical hilarity that went with it, thanks.

"They still have to marry and have children. I mean, if they're echt. Duty to the blood. Whatever. So gender stuff is, uh. Yeah. Not really. Fuck."

Askin concealed a grimace a beat too late. The tall one grinned genially, leaning toward Ichigo and Askin with their hands linked sweetly behind their back. "You poor deprived chickies! You confused sweethearts. I am going to open your minds so wide--"

"Ugh," the small one cut in, rolling their eyes, and got a toothy, brilliant smile aimed their way along with a sharp threatening I-will-cut-your-neck gesture.

"To start with! Arrancars have been known to reproduce asexually. In the first couple generations, or maybe when the blood is very strong, but!"

"Didn't Starrk bud out a little girl ten years back."

"That guy's a freak though. Leading to! Two, the gender binary is for squares. Still with me, chickies?"

"Uh. Yeah."

"Three, I'm the womanest woman who has ever womaned."

"Oh." Yeah, good thing Ichigo had asked. Her voice was, uh. Deep. And the contrast between her mannerisms and makeup and her T-shaped frame, thick with muscle--

"But also, transcending the restrictive gender binary inherited from our caveman ancestors back on Earth is excellently beautiful and I am, naturally, first place at it."

--

grimmichi psychic wolves

"So he just… decided to ditch us."

Yylfordt said nothing for a few seconds, and then all at once grabbed a chair and flung it to the floor, along with the clothes and books piled up on it. Nakeem watched the books scatter, sliding along the linoleum.

"What the fuck! What the fuck?! Why would he do that? We're the best, baddest fucking squad, we're fucking black ops at the top of the game, what fucking reason would he have to fucking leave?"

More silence, out loud. Inside their minds everyone was buzzing incoherently, tidbits of denial blurring past.

Makes no sense, what about his pride, we were gonna be so great--

"He hated the sex," Nakeem said.

He got stared at.

"… The heat sex?" Di Roy asks eventually. "But he always said it was the best sex of his life."

Nakeem considered it. Not wrong, but. "Also the worst."

[written-in-sunshine]

Title: Voogle Translate

Author: Keith

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Setting: Vox’s Boardroom

Pairing: Vox/Valentino

Characters: Vox, Valentino, Vox’s Assistant

Genre: Erotic/Romance

Rating: M

Chapters: 1/1

Word Count: 979

Type Of Work: One-Shot, StaticMoth Week Day Five

Status: Complete

Warnings: Gay, Slash, Yaoi, MLM, M/M, Public Sex, Voyeurism, Exhibitionism, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Slow Sex, Lazy Sex, Cum Inflation Mention, Intersex Character, Val Is Intersex, Get That Mussy Vox, OC Mention, OC: Ostello, OC: Anya

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything. Vox’s portrayal is based on how my friend Spacy writes him.

Summary: His love language was unconventional, but it was the best way for him to say it without saying it.

I HAVE WRITING COMMISSIONS OPEN!

[a-good-bagel]

Drawing a Delta Rune every day until Chapter 3 comes out. Day 979.

@fwugradiation Almost fell asleep in my chair and screwed up this entire challenge. But I didn't! So I'm here! Now, what's your favorite color?

[stilesdemonbaby]

Part 1: Dial B for Braincell by Bunnywest

Summary:

Peter stares at the phone in dismay. Shit. “I-“ Peter clears his throat. “Apologies. I appear to have the wrong number.” There’s a chuckle. “No shit, Sherlock. And who the hell doesn’t know what Machu Picchu is?” Peter relaxes somewhat at not getting blasted, and sighs. “My date. He was pretty, but brain-dead.” The voice on the other end makes a sympathetic sound. “Wanna talk about it?”

Tags: Pre-Slash, Wrong number, Meet-Cute

Published: 2020-03-30

Words: 979

Chapters: 1/1

Part 2: And Now You Know by Bunnywest

Summary:

Peter and Stiles have been dating for three months now, and Peter still hasn't told Stiles he's a werewolf. That's all about to change.

Tags: Established Relationship, Werewolf Reveal, Good Peter Hale, Lawyer Peter Hale, Stiles Stilinski Knows About Werewolves

Published: 2020-08-13

Words: 2,833

Chapters: 1/1

Rating: n/A

[ao3feed-nanago]

Christian Woman

by cherietonton Oh father I have sinned.. Words: 979, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: 呪術廻戦 | Jujutsu Kaisen (Manga), 呪術廻戦 | Jujutsu Kaisen (Anime) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Categories: F/M Characters: Sukuna | Ryoumen Sukuna, Fushiguro Megumi, Fushiguro Toji, Kenjaku | Fake Getou Suguru, Gojo Satoru, Nanami Kento, Ieiri Shoko, Iori Utahime, Iori Junpei, Mahito (Jujutsu Kaisen), Zenin Maki, Zenin Mai Relationships: Itadori Yuuji/Sukuna | Ryoumen Sukuna, Fushiguro Toji/Fushiguro Toji's Worm Cursed Spirit, Getou Suguru & Gojo Satoru, Getou Suguru & Gojo Satoru & Ieiri Shoko, Gojo Satoru/Nanami Kento, Mahito/Yoshino Junpei Additional Tags: Sukuna | Ryoumen Sukuna's Original Form, Sukuna | Ryoumen Sukuna is His Own Warning, Sukuna | Ryoumen Sukuna's Extra Mouths, Four-Armed Sukuna | Ryoumen Sukuna, Demon Sex, Demon Deals, Demon Summoning, Priest Kink, Priests, Fushiguro Toji is His Own Warning, Fushiguro Toji Lives, Gojo Satoru is a Little Shit, Getou Suguru Lives, Kenjaku | Fake Getou Suguru Being an Asshole, Getou Suguru is Not Kenjaku's Vessel, Blood and Gore, Gore, Scent Kink, Teeth, Vampire Bites, Ieiri Shoko is So Done, Nanami Kento is So Done, Murder Mystery, Rough Sex, Churches & Cathedrals, Semi-Public Sex, Mental Health Issues, Please Don't Hate Me via https://ift.tt/iMxbzWO