#drop writes... sometimes

[asoundofdrop]

A Sizzling Tango

A/N: I'M SO EXCITED FOR BOOTHILL'S BANNER, HIS TRAILER GOT ME WORKING ON THIS FOR SOME DAYS STRAIGHT CW: Written pre-Boothill banner, not-so-implied violence, questionable morals?

“Hmm… this is so weird. I could have sworn the Express was parked somewhere around here.”

Xiwu’s mumblings went unheard, with no one else around as she stood atop the closest building she could find. She folded her arms and continued to scan the area from above. Despite her best efforts, it seemed impossible to retrace the steps she took when all of it looked the same.

“Oh! Maybe…”

She pulled out her cellphone. Turning it on only showed a black screen and a red battery icon—which, from what she remembered, meant it wasn’t useable.

“…Right.” Xiwu sniffled as she tucked it back into her satchel. “Mgh… I’m gonna be in such big trouble with Mr. Yang and Dan Heng when I get back, aren’t I?”

She was at a loss for what to do, but there was no point in standing around. She’ll just sit down and mope. That way when something does come to mind, she’ll have plenty of energy. Plus, it wasn’t as if this situation was completely bad—at least there was a clear sky to look at. The city lights blocked out much of the stars but the moon was still large and bright. Much better than absolutely nothing.

…None of these thoughts completely chased the dread of the scolding that’ll eventually come. Xiwu could already imagine it.

“You’ve been told over and over how dangerous it is to just run off somewhere. Without even telling anyone,” Dan Heng would say. “You chase things too simplemindedly.”

Which wasn’t true! It wasn’t as if she only had one single thought. When she decided to follow that cat, she was wondering what kind of home it had. Maybe it had a whole family of cats to return to! Or along the way, she just might find something interesting. Caelus would understand, he tended to like the things she brought back from her adventures even if no one else quite did.

There wasn’t a point to mentally arguing this. She’ll just have to prepare herself when she’s actually at the Express’s doors. Somehow… Whenever that will be.

She laid on her back and sighed. The glass roof felt cold through her clothes in a way that she would call refreshing.

“Things are so quiet at night. I bet nobody’s even awake for me to ask directions from…”

Something flew past her ears. She sat up and looked around, wondering if it had just been her imagination. Before she could completely dismiss her alarm, several others soon followed.

It was unmistakably gunfire. Thankfully, only one of the bullets made contact with her. She couldn't help sulking though that it left a small rip in her sleeve. She moved to her feet, but the sound of cracking was faster and a sense of weightlessness overtook her.

She helplessly flailed her arms as she plummeted.

“I shouldn’t have chosen this roof!!!”

She crashed into the floor headfirst—was someone else groaning too? The floor was also unusually hard, solid, and… shiny. Even considering the height of her fall, it shouldn’t be hurting her head this much. Still, she was grateful that was all she got. Nothing that wouldn’t heal.

“What the fudge?! They got reinforcements waitin’ on the rooftop?!”

Xiwu yelped. The world flipped, and now a gunbarrel was pressed right between her brows.

“Huh?! What...?” The person aiming it was… some metal-looking guy with black and white hair. It clicked in her head, and Xiwu smiled up at him as she said, “Oh! It’s Mr. Boothill!”

“Yer…” He lowered the revolver and squinted. “The doctor from…?!”

“Did I—?”

“Now’s not the Aeon-blessed time for this!” he scolded.

Her sudden arrival had only bought several seconds of a peaceful exchange. The others in the building quickly regathered themselves and continued firing. Boothill shoved Xiwu back down, hovering just a few inches from her as he retaliated. Although it seemed like they were surrounded, he shot his revolver so fervently that he was outpacing the enemies on his own.

Xiwu grunted as she pushed at his chest, trying to get up so she could find the fans in her satchel. Despite all her strength, the cyborg Ranger was impossible to budge.

“Don’tcha make a move now, cutie! Just sit your cake there!”

“Get off of me! I don’t know what’s happening but I’m not useless!”

“Just trust me on this one, will ya?”

He sounded serious.

At his order, she kept still. It was difficult to say the least. She desperately wanted to see who it is they’re facing or get any other context to what was happening.

To add to the confusion, Boothill pulled her to her feet without warning, sending her stumbling a few steps. He held tightly onto her wrist as he then spun her around.

“Waah! S-So everyone here is…?”

“Yer not doin’ a thing! All you gotta do is keep up!”

Xiwu shrieked, feeling like nothing more than a ragdoll. Everything was spinning too fast and the only thing she could identify in view was Boothill. She was either flung out or pulled close to his chest.

Was this… meant to be dancing?

Whatever he was doing was probably planned. The enemies’ projectiles flew past them, but the cyborg Ranger wasn’t safe from getting his feet stepped on. If she did do that, a flicker of pain never showed up on his grinning face.

“C’mon now, don’t tell me ya got two left feet!” he teased.

“I don’t even know what’s happening!”

She yanked on Boothill’s jacket with her spare hand as he dipped her by the waist, making Boothill heartily laugh. His long hair and bright red cape fell forward. They draped around her like a curtain and kept her widened eyes straight on him.

“Anywho, I owe ya an apology. This is the best I can do for now.”

“Do what?”

He pulled her up and continued dancing around. Xiwu could vaguely hear he was saying something else, but she couldn’t make out any of the words over the chaos. All things aside, he seemed to be having the most fun out of everyone.

His leading steps guided them to a side room. In a single smooth move, he brought her inside and kicked the door shut behind them. He immediately looked up to the window and tried to shoot it, but the bullet didn’t even scratch it.

“Sweet, just our luck. You, can’t ya go hide somewhere?”

“I said before—!”

“You don’t wanna cause trouble for Dan Heng and the other folks on the train, would ya darling?!”

Xiwu closed her mouth.

Was that what he was worried about? It’s probably his way of being sincere, though she hadn’t expected Dan Heng to be right about it extending to the rest of the Express through him.

Once she hid behind a stack of boxes, the cyborg Ranger charged back into the heat of battle like nothing happened.

This wasn’t how she expected her night to go. From being hopelessly lost in a new city to being cooped up in… she stared at the logo printed on one of the boxes—an IPC building, it seems. Was that why Boothill was acting so weird? Not that she knew him well enough to know if he was acting normal either.

Or why he was here to begin with. Barging in on a heated and armed conflict did narrow down her options. Now that she thought about it, Aventurine did say he was in town for some sort of business, and he was a pretty important person of the IPC. Could that be the reason…?

He probably already left though. It is late… maybe too late to find food before going back to the Express.

…What is Boothill like anyway? Dan Heng never elaborated on that when he talked about the cyborg Ranger. It was mostly just the “do’s” and “don’ts” that he emphasized.

There was much that Xiwu had to contemplate. She hardly realized that the noise had died down and Boothill kicked his way back into the room.

“Ya nice and cozy down there?”

“Ah—.” Xiwu hopped to her feet and dusted off her skirt. “So am I allowed to go yet?”

“Yup, should be nary a peep about you bein’ seen with me. Just uh…”

Boothill took off his hat and covered her face.

“I’m not five! …You killed them all, didn’t you?” she asked.

“Let’s just say, it’s a shame that ‘catching up’ with some… ‘old friends’ didn’t end so well.” Xiwu nudged his hat away, and he put it back on his head. His lips were pulled into a thin line as he asked warily, “What’s it to you, doc?”

She looked past him, at the fallen bodies that covered the floor. She then turned her attention to the small trail of blue leaking from his forehead.

“Yes, I’m a doctor for sure.”

Xiwu reached for the fan in her satchel. With a flick of her wrist, she opened it and waved it through the air, casting a gentle red glow over the open scrape. Boothill brushed a finger against where it used to be, finding no sting as if it was never there.

“If I can’t do anything for the dead, I’ll just do everything for the living and injured. That’s my way of doing things as a traveling doctor of the Express. So, while I won’t stop you from doing your own business, just know I take my oath very seriously.”

To emphasize her point, she closed her fan against the palm of her hand with an audible snap and swiftly put it back.

The cyborg Ranger burst into a fit of laughter. He should have expected as much from a person who can smile in front of a gunbarrel, let alone an Express member who faced down an embodiment of an Aeon.

“Aren’tcha oozin’ with righteousness too, huh? And you’ve got gumption to boot!”

“Hehe, it comes with many years under the belt! Plus you gotta have something to be a Nameless!”

Xiwu puffed her chest out with pride.

“Now that things are settled… I get trailblazin’ is your thing and all but I’ve been meanin’ to ask, what exactly were you doin’ up there on your own?”

“…Um.”

She deflated just as quickly.

“I seem to recall Dan Heng callin’ you a handful too—.”

“That’s not it! I was just…! Just…”

The universe had decided this was not enough embarrassment. Her stomach growled loud enough to reverberate across the room, earning a raised brow from Boothill.

“Suppose I didn’t need to ask.”

“…Ignore that! Turn off your ears! I was gonna go home anyway which I definitely know where it is!” she yelled.

“What are ya on about—.”

“Nothing!”

Xiwu pushed past him out of the room and made a left, only to hear him chime from behind her: “The door’s the other way there, darling. Don’t tell me… ya don’t actually know where ya parked the train.”

If he had already figured out her predicament so fast, there was no pride left to be salvaged.

She immediately dropped to her knees and buried her face in her hands to wail. And here, Boothill thought he could be quite flippant himself.

“Hey, c’mon!” he grumbled as he caught up to her. “Look, it’s ma bad… How ‘bout this, why don’t I take ya to find some grub and then we can go to the Express together.”

Xiwu’s wailing slowly stopped.

“…You’ll really come with?”

“Since ya got wrapped up in my business, we’ll just call it even. Are ya gonna stop pitchin’ a hissy fit now?”

She got back up and sheepishly nodded her head.

“And… and… if they ask, can you just say I was with you all day…?”

“Yeah, yeah, if that’ll keep Dan Heng off yer case.”

“You’re… a really nice person.”

“I can see what he meant…”

[remxedmoon]

practicing self care (projecting my stims on my blorbos)

greyscale vers below the cut!

[generalsdiary]

Sunday mannerisms I noticed during the 2.7 livestream

when he finds something funny or amusing but doesn't laugh out loud - his right wing twitches

when he is happy or joyous - his left wing twitches

when he is flustered, shy or laughing out loud - both wings twitch

[atissi]

had to watch the new Folding Ideas video twice, read all of the comments, watched Lady Emily's video, watch an AVGN video for the first time (sorry i'm gen z), failed to get through Wavelength (1967), read a bunch about Wavelength (1967), and read through a bunch of Twitter comments, but i think i'm finally understanding the artistry in "i don't know james rolfe"

narratively it's dan olson revealing the rorschach test of media analysis, i.e. there was no way for him to critically analyze james rolfe's career without revealing all of his own obsessions and insecurities, just as james rolfe reveals himself through his film and video game reviews. this concept is lampshaded by the highlighting of Wavelength (1967), an extremely minimal and obtuse film that engages with the idea of inattention — meaning that bored or negative responses to the work are still responses to the theme. which is cool.

and it's cool that criticisms of dan olson's video include people upset that he hyper-focused on specific elements of james rolfe's life and not other, arguably more important elements, such as the Monster Madness controversy or james's time in special ed — almost as though the character of dan olson is cherrypicking aspects of james rolfe's life that are the most personally wounding to him. aspects that expose dan's insecurities relating to filmmaking and failed dreams, expressed through the vessel of AVGN.

but meta narratively, the video becomes a rorschach test for the audience — your response to the video reveals your own obsessions and insecurities in how you relate to dan olson. why does someone find the video mean-spirited? why does someone else think the video is self-serving? why do I feel so awkward watching dan attempt a deeper, more abstract creative work?

where does dan olson end and the character of dan olson as a media critic begin? where do you as an audience member end, and YOU begin?

it's projection all the way down

[emlovessid]

For your prompt ideas: Regulus is stuck sitting next to a kid and his dad on a long flight, just his luck. Starts out trying to ignore them, but can't resist Harry's charm (or James')

hiii i loved this prompt so so much! hope you like it <3

Regulus has just turned the page of his book when he feels a tug on his sleeve. Taking out one of his earbuds, Regulus looks down at the boy seated next to him, surprised to find him holding out a packet of crisps.

When Regulus had boarded the flight, he was a little apprehensive when he saw that his seatmates were a toddler and a man who was almost definitely his father, if their resemblance and matching glasses were anything to go by. But it’s approaching their fourth hour in the air and Regulus hasn’t so much as heard a peep from him, until now.

“Hi?” Regulus says, looking past the boy to find his dad asleep, elbow on his armrest, his cheek resting on his fist.

“Do you want a crisp?” the boy says with a slight lisp.

“Oh, um – I’m okay. But thanks.”

“But you don’t have any snacks,” he says, the packet of crisps still held up towards him.

Regulus glances at the dad again; is it stealing from a child if they’re offering it to you, quite insistently at that?

Sighing, Regulus says with a smile, “Okay, just one. Thank you.”

The boy beams at him as Regulus reaches out and takes a crisp.

“I’m Harry,” he says, though it sounds more like Hawwy. “I’m four.”

“Hi Harry. I’m Regulus, I’m twenty-nine.”

–

James wakes with a start, his chin slipping off his hand and hitting his chest before he jolts back up. Blinking a few times, it takes him a second to remember where he is, rubbing his eyes beneath his glasses as he looks over to check on Harry, freezing at the sight before him.

The man in the window seat – with the soft curls and beautiful eyes – has a novel open on his lap, one earbud in his ear. But what’s more surprising is Harry, almost a mirror image of the man, holding his Spot book upside down in front of him with the other earbud in his own ear. In unison, they both turn to look at him, Harry's face breaking into a smile.

“Dad! This is my friend, Reg,” he says proudly.

The man, Reg, meets his eyes and says with a shy smile, “Hi, I’m Regulus.”

James apparently takes too long to respond, too busy caught up staring at the slight blush that has spread across Regulus’ cheeks, that Harry decides to step in, saying, “His name is James but I’m not allowed to call him that.”

“What he said,” James laughs, delighting in the way Regulus laughs too. Reaching down into his backpack, he pulls out his own novel. “So, am I allowed to join this book club or is it closed to new members?”

James watches in amusement as Harry and Regulus look at each other, a silent conversation passing between the two, before Harry turns back to him, “Yes, but only if we can have more crisps.”

“Alright then, I can do that. Regulus, would you like plain or salt and vinegar?”

Maybe it’s the altitude but James swears time slows down a little when his eyes meet Regulus’.

“Salt and vinegar, please.”

His voice is barely above a whisper when he replies, “Salt and vinegar, coming right up.”

follower appreciation – drop me a prompt <3

[obae-me]

Oh, cool, new feature in game! Oh, it's in akuzon, probably like 10 bucks or something, I--

W-Wait, pardon?

30 DOLLARS? 30??? Are you kidding me? I'm a hardcore Luci stan, but I don't think I can drop 30 dollars for a small story that I have the feeling only lasts five minutes, if even that... If for some godforsaken reason I snag this next time I get paid, if anyone wants to see screenshots of Luci's story, I will gladly share

[desertcrater]

the thing about writing hilson fic is that, like. nothing i can ever come up with could be as unhinged as the canonical events within the show. i can write wilson as quietly manipulative and repressed as i want, and it still won't hold a candle's flame to his in-show characterization. he's a chronic liar whose only truth is his love for house. i can make house as loudly lonely as i want, and again it cannot compare to his in-show characterization. he burns every bridge he has so long as wilson can stay by his side. their codependency has no canonical limits or bounds. the threat of federal prison or divorce or removal of licenses doesn't faze them enough to change; nothing does except for the threat of death. writing hilson is like being given free rein to write insanity on their unhinged landscape, so long as they're both written true to their own Desires and whack moral codes. because, again, anything i could write will still pale in comparison to the actual show

[workingchemistry]

“It matters not to me what form you take.” Thor soothes, echoing the words he spoke centuries earlier when Loki hesitantly explained that he was not always a prince but that did not necessarily mean he was Asgard’s princess either. “Whether you are my brother, my sister, my sibling, or a glorious snake, you are still my kin to protect above all else in Asgard.”

“And what do you propose I am, if not Asgardian?”

Fear grips tight to Thor’s heart but he does not falter. “Loki, you are Jotun.”

[rotten-hearts-sharp-teeth]

Divine Punishment

Dom! Nanami x Fem-presenting gn reader. Hair pulling and spanking stress relief.

tag request: @malomega @missphanosaur18

Date night with Nanami was running behind schedule, as usual.

It wasn't your fault that work ran late, the market was packed and your commute home was a nightmare of rush hour traffic. Nanami was always telling you to work on time management, but what were you supposed to do in that situation? Not provide a hard working guy with a home cooked meal?

Time was running out. You knew that he would arrive exactly when he said he would, so you rushed to get dinner started and jumped into the shower for date night maintenance. It wasn't until you were trying to get dressed that you remembered your new set of lingerie was still sitting in the washing machine. Everything else that you owned was either dirty or not sexy enough for the date you had planned. Nanami warned you about putting off chores until the last minute. If he found out about the loads of unwashed laundry in the bottom of your closet, he was sure to give you another speech about 'responsibility'.

With no time left to spare, you tossed the delicates into the dryer and finished getting dressed without wearing any underwear. Dinner needed to be checked, and you could always slip away to the bathroom once the dryer had finished.

Just as you closed the oven, the dryer buzzed and there was a sharp knock at your front door.

"One moment please!"

You started to untie your apron, but stopped when you realized that you couldn't just leave him waiting out in the hallway while you went to put on your underwear. Hopefully the apron would help hide the fact that you were not wearing anything underneath your top. Smoothing your hands over your sides, you felt exposed and more than a little naughty as you went to answer the door. 

Both of you agreed that whatever was between you would remain casual. Busy work schedules didn't allow for much else, but seeing Nanami after weeks apart brought a smile to your face. Once the door shut behind him, you braced your palms against his broad shoulders and went up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. His hands stayed firmly on your hips. His expression, unchanged as you took a step back and he quickly evaluated the way that you were dressed.

Sometimes it was impossible to know what that man was thinking.

"Dinner isn't quite ready yet. Would you care for a drink?"

Nanami checked his watch with the practiced ease of someone used to running on a strict schedule. Was he disappointed that dinner wasn't ready on time?

He nodded, then began to unbutton the jacket of his suit.

"Yes. That will be fine. I'm going to freshen up first."

He paused, and looked at you as he loosened his tie.

"It was… a long week."

You smiled as you stepped forward to take his jacket. Communication was not something Nanami was comfortable with or did often. He hardly ever talked about his job. Not that you minded. Not really.

"Well lucky for you I have something that will make it all better."

This time, you had remembered to stock up on his favorite brand of beer. Nanami gave you a strange look. His eyes flicked over your outfit, quick and dismissive before he gave another stiff nod. "I'm sure that you do."

He disappeared down the hallway and you heard the soft click of the bathroom door close. It seemed like you were going to have to go commando for just a little bit longer.

You grabbed a frosty mug from your freezer and bent over to retrieve a beer from the bottom shelf of your mini fridge. A slight breeze brushed against your exposed bits. You had forgotten just how high your skirt rode up in the back! Lucky for you, Nanami was still in the bathroom.

As you straightened, a deep voice spoke beside your ear.

"You're not wearing any panties, are you?"

With a startled yelp, you spun around to face Nanami. Heat crawled up your neck as he leaned into you, pinning you between his hard body and the countertop. When had he come out of the bathroom? You hadn't even heard him approach!

"Uh.."

Your face felt hot. There was no hiding your blush of shame.

Nanami sighed and glanced down the front of your blouse before taking a step closer. The counter pressed against the small of your back. He lifted his hands and brushed your hair behind your shoulders.

"I told you that it's impolite to tease me."

Brown eyes narrowed as he gathered your hair into a loose ponytail with one hand.

"I wasn't-!"

"Quiet."

Nanami tugged your hair to silence your protests. He grabbed his tie with his other hand and yanked the silky material free from under his collar.

"The opportunity for argument is over. Now it's time for punishment."

Your eyes went wide as he stuffed the tie into your mouth. The tight grip on your hair forced you to look up at him.

"Do you deserve to be punished?"

A second wave of heat colored your cheeks as you gulped around the tie. It wasn't the first time you and Nanami played this kind of game, but usually he waited until after dinner.

His hold on you made it difficult to nod.

"Good."

Nanami guided you out of the kitchen by your hair. He took a seat at the dining room table and forced you to lay across his lap. His fingers brushed the back of your thighs as he raised your skirt to expose your bare ass.

"Did you think I wouldn't notice?"

He gripped your ass cheek with his big hand and gave it a slight jiggle. You tried to squirm away, but a sharp tug to your hair kept you in place.

"How unobservant do you think I am?"

He released your cheek. You had an idea of what was coming next, but before you could brace yourself, his palm connected with the underside of your ass in an upward sweeping motion. The loud slap startled you almost as much as the sudden sting of pain. You tried to adjust your stance by shifting from foot to foot as he delivered a second blow to your other cheek. Then a third and fourth in the same spot. The tie muffled your whimpers as he rubbed over the sore spot on your ass.

Already, the stinging pain was beginning to fade to a warm throb.

"Such a nice red…"

His hand slid down the inside of your thighs and forced your legs apart.

"Hold still."

You held on to his muscular thigh, ready for more. Nanami raised his palm high and brought it down with enough force to rock you across his lap. Hard blows rained down at a steady, even pace while you yelped against the gag. Once he finally stopped, you knew that your ass was welted and red in the shape of his handprint.

Tears fell from the corner of your eyes, but nothing could compare to the tingling throb between your legs. You lifted your hips in anticipation. Nanami, thankfully, decided to show mercy. His hand cupped between your thighs. His fingers stroked and caressed every swollen crease, spreading your leaking fluids over hardened flesh. It was all you could do to try and hold still while your body desperately wanted to grind against the sensation.

"Even the strongest man has his limits."

Your eyes snapped open as Nanami yanked you up by your ponytail and bent you over the dining room table. You tried to look back at him when you heard his belt slide free, but his strong grip kept you face down. A muffled 'yes' seeped around the damp material in your mouth while he lowered the zipper of his pants.

He wasted no time pressing the hot, wet tip of his cock against your prepared hole.

"I'm not going easy on you."

His voice sounded strained as he pushed half the length of his cock into your body. Your eyelids fluttered. Your body stretched around his girth. Moving his hand from the base of his shaft to your ass, he held you wide open and watched as he slid the rest of the way in.

"… so tight..."

Nanami groaned. He smacked the red welts across your ass once more before grabbing your hip and thrusting into you hard and fast. You held the tablecloth tight in your fists, holding on for dear life as he pounded you from behind. The edge of the table dug into your thighs, but nothing could take away the pleasure you felt when he hit the deepest of your spots.

It didn't take long for the growing pressure of your climax to reach its limit. Nanami's breaths came in harsh gasps. His thrusts began to stutter and you knew that he was close to finishing as well. Finally releasing his hold on your hair, Nanami grabbed your hips with both of his hands and lifted you off your toes. You felt like a doll in his grasp, a toy used for his pleasure. The sensation and change of angle pushed you over the edge. You came hard. Liquid release gushed between your thighs as hot wet flooded your insides.

Nanami exhaled and set you back down on your feet. You felt him throb from where you were connected and smiled softly. All of the extra precautions you took were worth it just to feel him finish inside you.

The timer on the oven beeped, causing you to jump. You had completely forgotten about dinner!

Nanami huffed behind you and pulled out before spinning you around. Wet trails ran down the inside of your thighs as he lifted you back onto the table. The timer chimed a second time while he wrapped your legs around his hips.

"I should get that."

You glanced towards the kitchen. The tight grip on your thighs let you know that you were not going anywhere anytime soon.

"I'll worry about the food later. I told you that it was a long week."

Some of the tension had eased from Nanami's posture, but not nearly enough. With an eager smile, you wound your arms around his neck and pulled him close.

"Yes Sir"

[shaanks]

Random but do you have any Eustass Kid fics that you like? I struggle to find ones where he's not written like an asshole (nsfw is okay too btw!) I also like kidkiller/kidlaw or character study/coming of age type ones or modern au...just anything please<3

Oh man, okay!!! :"D I know tryin to find stories where he's not written as like some kind of abusive shithead is like. hard as fuck. I feel very lucky to have stumbled on the little Kid Enjoyers community that I have, and I'll try to give you some good recs. Just as a disclaimer, a lot of what I read and engage with tends to be like nsft stuff, so that's going to be a lot of what's on the list. Also there is the possibility for spoilers for the current arc, I'm not sure where you are in your one piece journey alsedkjfasld

Okay, so:

@quinloki : Has pretty much my favorite characterization set for Kid of all time. They write mostly smut and op x reader stuff in both shortform and longform formats, and have a variety of faves, so if you like their style and have faves other than Kid there's more stuff in there too. c:

Some of my fave pieces of theirs are shorter ones, so they're good starters, I'll link em here, here and here . (the links are gonna open to punks-never-die205, that's one of their sideblogs)

@swampstew : Writes STUNNING work both short and longform, absolutely loves Kid, and if you like her writing she has a huge backlog of stories both on her blog and on her wattpad. A++++ 10/10, she also runs a blog and is writing a longer series for Killer, KillerCook, which is SO splendid.

She also does headcanon lists, a TON of events, and x reader things, I'll link some starter ones here, here, and here. (the last one is to an anthology of short stories and drabbles on her wattpad that is a ton of fun)

@standfucker : good GRACIOUS me, okay listen. Standfucker does it all. A+++ Kid characterization. Hot, well-balanced, well-written stories. They write for a bunch of characters and also do like, multiple people in a pairing/scenario stuff, and it's all phenomenal.

First one is one of my personal favorites, which involves all the Kid Pirate officers here. This is also one of my fave pieces, you get Kid all to yourself in this one here.

@wyvernslovecake : If you'd like something a little more crew-oriented and a little less x reader smut oriented, PLEASE I am begging you look into their Kid Pirates and Cross Guild little drabble posts with their character Shriek (who is the cutest little bat mink on the Grand Line), and the named characters Gabriel and Gryphon who are [spoiler characters for current arc] and adopted by the Cross Guild. Everything they write (and draw!!) is so delightful and fun, it will brighten up your day by AT LEAST tenfold.

Here, here, and here are some good examples <3.

@eustasssimp : She has a lot of like shorter form x reader and headcanon posts, and write Kid like the gruff secret softie he is. <3

Some examples here, here, and here.

@cyborg-franky : Again, he has a truly prodigious backlog of writing, so if you enjoy his Kid stuff and have other faves, you could truly spend hours and days enjoying some excellently written fun stuff here.

here, here, and here are some examples.

**

I am absolutely certain I'm forgetting people lmfao, my working memory is very bad and I'm nursing a concussion, but hopefully this gives you at least a bit of a start!! Everyone listed, and really everyone in this little section of the community, is lovely, sweet, and wildly talented. There's a lot of friendly open sharing 'round these parts, and I hope you find somewhere to land and enjoy the big guy too. If none of these does it for you, or if you'd like additional recs, just let me know and we'll figure something out.

Thank you so much for your lovely ask!!

[asoundofdrop]

Closer

A/N: Uhhh... if you happen to enjoy, thank you adfjjfd CW: unprotected sex, penis haver, vagina haver, established skk

If he had been asked back then, Camu would never have imagined being in this kind of moment with anyone. To be so excited, so content that his heart—artificial as it may be now—would be torn between resting or pacing this hard in his chest. To have a special someone to keep in that heart… someone to lavish him with special affections like this…

Ridiculous, Camu thought.

He huffed and closed his eyes as Hamea pressed another fluttering kiss, just below his jaw. It really was ridiculous, he thought, to be getting so embarrassed. His mouth was getting twisted into something of a scowl. It was far from their first time and yet, he still wasn’t sure how to act whenever she did these things so gently to him.

He once grumbled about this aloud to her. She smiled and said to him, “If you don’t know how to return it… then I’ll simply have to give extra for the both of us until we figure something out.”

Either way, he would never ask her to stop just because he looked stupid in the moment.

He opened his eyes again.

Pale moonlight spilled from the window and bathed the room so beautifully—a word that he rarely used. But with it, everything about Hamea seemed to glimmer so much more. Camu loved the way that she looked at him with pure adoration, especially right now. If he wasn’t preoccupied with her eyes, then he would have otherwise been distracted by how the moonlight dipped and shone over her body.

At the same time, he was keenly aware of how she traced her fingertips along his skin. Up his back, to his biceps, to his shoulders… as if she wanted to memorize everything about him, until they reached his face where they lingered.

She always liked holding his face between her hands. Camu would call it a strange fascination if he didn’t share the sentiment himself.

To spend the rest of his life like this… with her…

Camu was certain that he could forget the coldness of this world. It would all melt away with her gentle warmth. How did she describe it before whenever he held her…? Like snow welcoming spring, or something like that.

His mind was growing rather fuzzy.

Hamea quietly hummed and whispered, “Camu… you really are too good to me.”

She spoke delicately, as if she would have broken him by accident like glass had she spoken any louder.

Camu accepted another light kiss. He mumbled against her pretty lips, “Shouldn’t I be the one to say that?”

“Hee-hee… but you spoil me more than you think you do. Like right now. Letting me be in your arms, and letting me love you… I couldn’t ask for anything more.”

“You’re a weird one. Only you would say that sort of silly thing to me.”

“I mean it though.”

“…Yeah,” Camu agreed, fully assured. “You would never lie to me.”

As he continued to admire her, he reached up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. He looked at the scar along her forehead and began to reflect without realizing it.

According to the doctor on Hamea’s squad, she had to do emergency surgery on the Commandant while they were still stranded on Earth. This one did not heal particularly well, it seemed, just barely doing its job.

On Hamea’s neck, there was a faint cut. She once told him that she had gotten this particular scar a long time ago, before she had become a commandant. She suspected that it came from some sort of confrontation with kidnappers, but she couldn’t remember the exact details—nor would anyone tell her.

He then trailed downwards to her chest, to a scar he was more familiar with. At that time, they had just met. And yet, Camu’s legs were spurred on and he tried to run to her side as fast as he could. He was too late though, and she had all-but flatlined because of the creepy Ascendant. He still remembered what she said to him after the whole ordeal because of how odd he found it.

“That is simply Camu’s form of kindness. I think… you should give yourself a little more credit.”

Who knows if those were the words that pushed him to join Babylonia’s side, to join the Strike Hawks… Even he hadn’t come to a conclusion on that himself.

Lower on her body, near her abdomen, were two overlapping scars. He was unfamiliar with the newer one—the one given to her by that disgusting spider-looking Corrupted. But with how big it was and still delicate from having just healed, it unnerved him. Terribly so.

Just underneath it was a smaller, distinct scar that left him unnerved too. It was left behind when Hamea was ambushed by a Corrupted while she was still recovering from a flash grenade. It was perhaps the first time Camu had witnessed her so afraid that even her MIND beacon became unsteady. He remembered carrying her out of the building as she came close to bleeding out.

All of these times…

“Camu?” Hamea called, gently pulling him from his thoughts. “What’s wrong? Is something bothering you?”

He didn’t answer right away.

“Just thinking about the amount of sheer dumb luck that you have,” he grumbled.

He tightened his arms around her waist, holding her even closer than he already was. He didn’t intend on dwelling on something like this during their rare moment of intimacy. Hamea’s fragility as a human would always weigh heavy on his mind whether he liked it or not.

“I know,” she admitted. “But at least I’m still here, as unsightly as these marks may be…”

Camu saw how she shyly turned her face away.

Starting with the scar on her forehead, he pressed a gentle kiss to each one until he reached the one on her chest. Although he couldn’t quite duck his head low enough to reach the two on her abdomen, he carefully ran his thumb over them, as if to memorize the shape of it.

It gave him comfort when she would do that for him, and he could only hope it did the same for her. He repeated the process a few more times until his worries were assuaged by the smile returning to her face.

“Unsightly or whatever, it doesn’t make a difference to me. My choice is that I would take everything that you would give to me… And you’ve seen how I’m not the type to change my mind so fast.”

“Oh yes, you’re very stubborn,” Hamea agreed, lightheartedly teasing but relieved all the same. “But I wouldn’t want any less than everything either…”

“I guess we’re both pretty greedy people.”

She nuzzled her nose against Camu’s, leaning in and parting her lips for a deeper kiss than earlier. The soft sound of her contented sigh coaxed him into hungrily drinking in the warmth.

Soon enough, he was nipping at her lower lip, asking for even more and his tongue reaching further.

Every single sensation, he would let it be etched onto him.

To remind himself that this was real, that she is here in his arms, the place she always said she found respite in.

Hamea eventually pulled away with flushed cheeks. She pursed her lips in embarrassment, and quietly asked, “Can I put it in right now?”

“Already prepared for it?” he asked in doubt.

“W-well… I’ve taken you with less preparation before. I can definitely do it now.”

“Then you can wait a bit longer too.”

He moved one of his hands from her hips and reached further below. Hamea mewled as his thumb pressed against her clit, rubbing the sensitive nub. She held onto his wrist, though she made no proper move to stop him in any way.

“Mnnh… but you go so overboard with this,” she mumbled between panting breaths. “Don’t make me cum so fast…”

“Commandant, shouldn’t your endurance be improved by now?” he teased.

Camu took it further and slid two of his fingers inside of her pussy. Slick gradually pooled into the palm of his hand as he slowly pumped his fingers up to the knuckles and getting her used to the gradual stretch. Hamea’s pretty lashes fluttered as she drew out his name in a long moan.

It stirred him up in a special way every time.

“Ah… don’t do so much, don’t do so much at once,” she weakly protested. “I’m going to cum, I really will…”

Hamea knew that Camu liked to be a bit mean in this aspect. He delighted too much in her reactions to hold himself back from overstimulating her, even on nights that were originally meant to be gentle.

Goaded by her mewls of pleasure, he continued his ministrations until she cried out and squeezed tightly around his digits. With her eyebrows scrunched and her lips still pursed together, it made for a rather demure yet lewd expression. He brushed away her bangs once more with his other hand to look at it fully.

He looked at her so intensely, and Hamea loved it so much that it never failed to send shivers down her spine. Perhaps it was a selfish thing to love, but he indulged her anyway.

Once she relaxed again, Camu pulled out—the movement already loud from slick.

“There’s no point salvaging your modesty when you’re soaking like this.” He then thoroughly and languidly lapped up the cum, swallowing deeply for her to witness. “Hm… Good as always.”

“And here I was trying to last a bit longer tonight…”

“Does it matter? I don’t mind doing all of the work either.”

“But isn’t that a bit unfair…?” she asked sheepishly.

“Not to me. As long as we’re both enjoying ourselves, anything is fair game. And for me, that includes seeing you making that face. So don’t hide such a special treat.”

She nodded, too embarrassed to say anything else.

With a shift to make sure she was comfortable in his lap, he carefully aligned the tip and pushed the thick head of his cock inside, hissing through his teeth at how she enveloped him.

“Fuck…,” he cursed under his breath. “Cunt’s so damn tight… ”

Hamea braced herself against his shoulders as she took him inch by inch.

With each shaky sigh she let out, Camu pressed a kiss to her cheek to ease her until she fit his entire length.

“Wait, don’t move yet. I’m still sensitive from earlier,” she mumbled.

“Yeah, yeah, I got it…”

He repeated it purposefully, moreso to remind himself than anything else. After she adjusted, she began to ride his cock, with Camu holding her hips to steady her. His length reached so deeply, consistently hitting the very spot that made Hamea tremble and whine from pleasure. As of this moment, all they could hear was the rhythmic wet slap of skin accompanied by heavy breaths.

Slick continued to spill from her pussy and soaked their inner thighs.

Hamea threw back her head as she moaned in a winded breath. Her nails dropped to his back and dug in, very faintly activating the Construct’s pain receptors.

A part of him wished that it would leave something behind for him to admire in the mornings after, but his skin was made to be incredibly durable. While it was helpful for the places he was usually deployed to, it had small inconveniences like this. But it was fine, he could make do.

He bit down on a small patch of skin on her neck and sucked, leaving a dark hickey behind. He soothed the sting with his tongue before moving on to make another.

Hamea would simply have to bear enough marks for the both of them.

“C…Camu!”

He vaguely recognized through a foggy brain that he was taking control of the pacing after she cried his name—that his hands had secured the back of her thighs and that he was thrusting harder into her squelching cunt. She could only hold onto him as he bounced her ass in his lap.

“Ngh… do you have any idea what it does to me? When you use my name with your pretty little voice?”

Hamea’s whimpers were on the verge of sobbing as she was close to cumming again. The knot in her stomach was tightening, leaving her almost dizzy if Camu’s arms weren’t wrapped so firmly around her figure.

“No no, with you… please? Please?”

It came out incomprehensible, but Camu seemed to understand. He pressed his forehead to hers, soaking his silvery bangs with beads of her sweat that had built up.

“Yeah… we can do that…”

Hamea held his face as she kissed him, heated and deeply as they chased their high together. Their moans and grunts of exertion became muffled, though it did little to silence everything else.

Camu pressed their bodies even closer as he filled her pussy to the brim with spurts of thick pearly-white cum. Her walls were practically milking his cock, making him dig his fingers into the soft skin of her thighs to restrain his excitement. With a few more deliberate rolls of his hips, he slowly pulled out.

The two panted, struggling to catch their breath from the steamy air. A mixture of their cum stained the sheets beneath them, but neither of them had the energy to move yet.

Even without touching it with her hand, she already knew her lips were somewhat swollen. Her eyes flicked over to the sweat on Camu’s forehead and the drool rolling down his chin. She sheepishly wiped it away the best she could.

“You don’t need to do that,” he said.

“It doesn’t bother you?”

“Why the hell would it?” Despite his choice of words, they hardly had any bite to them. “In fact, I think you should look sweaty and messy more often like this actually.”

“Oh, you…!”

Hamea pushed his face and he simply laughed, before nudging her hands away so he could continue admiring the flush on her cheeks.

Everything that he thought of earlier, it really didn’t sound so bad to him. It’s almost embarrassing, really. He’s changed quite a bit by now, and even that felt like an understatement. He should be terrified by the amount of power Hamea had over him in this regard. But no, instead, he’s melting in her presence.

Upon seeing her eyes grow half-lidded from exhaustion, Camu quietly moved to lay her down on the bed, head nestled against his arm. He reached for the blanket and covered both of their bare bodies—hopefully it made her comfortable.

In a whisper, she called out, “Camu…?”

“I’m here.”

“Hand?”

He wordlessly held out his free hand, and she took it with both of hers. She held it in front of her face with awe on her face.

“Hee-hee… I really do love your hands quite a lot. I love… every part of you. I love you…”

She repeated the last few words over and over. As she did, she traced the artificial creases of his hand with her pointer while slowly drifting off. It was only until she went slack and silent that Camu knew she really did fall asleep.

“I love you too.”

He said it with a softness that he used to think was impossible for a person like him. Maybe she did end up hearing it in her sleep. Why else would she have such a… goofy… silly… pretty smile right now?

He wanted to see it every day, every night. If he had to make a fool of himself in front of her for it… maybe some sacrifices were worth it, he said to himself. Then, she would laugh and assure him he was not a fool.

Hamea was right… They were greedy, because he wouldn’t want any less than that. He continued to think this to himself as he tried to estimate the size of her ring finger before dozing off himself.

[apuff]

thinking about love in danger days

this is part of my conspiracy theory that that album is aroallo, but i've always gotten the sense that romance and romantic attatchment is much less important to danger days than any other mcr record. with bullets&revenge it's quite obvious as the demolition lovers take up like, everything, and the black parade has a heavy focus on a romantic relationship as well. 

while i do think there are lines in it that are romantically coded, there is a definitive lack of emphasis on it- like it's nowhere in the plot at all. 

i do think danger days represents a very familial type of love though. while other albums visit a sense of "i want you, i need you, i miss you, i hate you,", this is more like…"i love you, i want to protect you, i'm sorry"

i find this especially strongly in s/c/a/r/e/c/r/o/w:

"Nevermind about the shape i'm in, I'll keep you safe tonight"

"love, love, love won't stop this bomb"

"run, run, bunny, run"

and other songs: 

"i'll find you when the sun goes black"

"just save yourself and i'll hold them back tonight"

"how long until we find our way in the dark and out of harm"

relevant things i can't cover with just quotes are planetary go, oft-theorized to be about party poison and kobra kid, as brothers, leaving battery city together; sing, about the killjoys' last message to the girl while saving her; goodnite dr. death, phrased as him saying goodnight to children; and summertime, which i can't discern the meaning of but seems more like a family type of love. 

i think it makes sense that danger days is like this, seeing as it features main characters that take care of a child main character as opposed to main characters that love other main characters of the same age/ability. 

another thing i noticed while re-listening to the more sentimental songs for this essay is that there's just a distinctly different vibe to it. So much of it is focused around wanting to protect people, keep them safe and out of danger (<- ha that's the name of the album) and loved. i think this also makes sense, because the killjoys live a very, well, dangerous life without much security, and they'd want to provide what they lack the most. another semi-related thing i noticed is just how much of an emphasis there is on childhood in this album. i feel like there's a vibe of youth or teen-hood throughout the earlier ones, but this is just VERY strongly about kids. again this makes sense cause not only are the killjoys teenagers (a type of kid!) they also have a proper little kid to watch. 

also, i wonder how much of this stuff was due to gerard becoming a parent. just something to think about 

[tetzoro]

good morning friendz and happy thursday !! if you listen closely, you can hear people all around the world quoting mean girls today bc why? well, it’s october 3rd 🙂‍↕️ i wish you all a wonderful day !! mwah !

[astrolotte]

Genuinely intrigued by the potential of Peri and Irep's dynamic but only in a platonic way so I end up not vibing with the fandom's portrayal of it 😔😔😔

(No but listen LISTEN they were kinda-almost-friends when we last saw them in FOP, yeah? Now they're enemies, with both actively fighting each other, and Irep going so far as to try and kill Peri's parents. What happened? When? What influenced it? Did they ever become friends, or did it nosedive the moment the cameras turned off? What about Sammy? How do Irep's parents factor into this? Could it ever be fixed? There's just so much we haven't seen, and romance just feels like too easy a solution to me. Let their friendship be easy to break, fragile. Let them have to work to keep the connection. Fairies and Anti-Fairies are literally made to be opposites, so what happens when two genuinely and truly become friends?)

((and yeah I guess a lot of this could factor into a romantic angle but ALAS the fandom seems to be leaning heavily into the funny toxic yaoi angle 😔 I don't mind it! By all means, please have your very harmless fun! But it ain't my jam :P Perhaps I'll have to write a oneshot myself...))

(((see tags for more rambles i guess. whoops a bitch spoke too much in there as he always does)))

[astriiformes]

Yesterday the TA for my history of health and the environment course got up in front of the class to say we'd be getting our prospectuses for our final paper back today, and that about a third of the class really needed to refine theirs because the ideas they'd turned in were too broad or undefined for a 10-page paper.

Which made me nervous, because she specifically mentioned folks proposing covering 200 years' worth of history, and I'd focused mine on both the 16th and 17th centuries. So I was convinced I'd gotten a poor grade on the assignment and would need to talk with her about my plans.... until I actually got mine back today and saw she'd given me a perfect score on it, because I'd explained my research plans thoroughly enough. So now instead of having to grapple with doing poorly on an assignment (the worst), I'm grappling with my TA apparently thinking my research skills are refined enough that I can tackle things other students maybe can't (strange, baffling).

And then, on top of all that, at the train station I ran into one of the folks from the center for premodern studies at school who said I should send them an email because they're inviting a few undergrads to come along to a printing event they're doing at a local book arts place and they apparently want me to be one of them?

All of which is really kicking my imposter syndrome in the gut, which given that I was really feeling it yesterday is nice, but also a little jarring if I'm being honest. What if I was good at things and people recognized that I was good at things. What then.

[domsaysstuff]

Steve's kindness is, like all self-taught one, a mirage of borrowed expressions, a collage of habits picked from people he loved, a bit stilled but eager and well-meaning, sometimes a bit chopped at the sides, a growing want to let the good feelings out in front of the right people.

Eddie liked to sometimes watch him and find all the signs of other people in him, try to match them up to right people.

He would watch and think - this is Nancy's stubbornness to never give up on people and Dustin's loyalty, he would see him trying to give advice to Dustin and see Johnathan's akward pep-talks to Will. The way he would always try to have snacks for the kids screamed both Joyce's and Mrs. Henderson motherly kindness. His willingness to sit in silence, a steady presence, when somebody needed it shined with Will's warmth. How he fights for the people he cares about, letting his meaness be a defense for them all, a barier and a shield similar to Max's snark.

And whenever he found himself to be the matching person? It made him feel loved, so fucking loved and seen that he would choke on it.

Eddie sometimes would make a game out of it, to found the matching puzzle whenever Steve's kindness shone (and it was a lot of the time). It was always someone from the party and he would always find himself with a strange fond warmth whenever he realized who it was. And usually he was good at it, it wasn't really hard when he loved and knew all those people too

There were exceptions though. The first one was Robin and it wasn't for the lack of Eddie's knowledge and love for her and moreso because of the whole RobinandSteve being always so SteveandRobin, never really separate. Whatever was Steve's was also Robin's, their clothes, habits or sometimes even their smiles shone in the same way. They were mismatched in a funny melted together sort of way, his kindness was her and hers was his and it was hard to difference between the two when even they didn't know where one ended and the other began, they traded traits like they traded clothes, wore them bright pink socks with yellow soft sweater, a joke to cheer you up with a soft you can tell me anything in the same breath.

He didn't really knew whose kindness it was the innate one that must have been deep within Steve before he let it shine or Robin's. He didn't think it would really matter anyway, they would trade it between themselves like shiny cards anyway.

The other one was a smile. An unique one, one that Eddie swore he saw somewhere before and that lacked the freckles and a missing teeth except noone in the party had these two traits, at least not as Eddie knew them and he could never find that one puzzle. It was boyish and full of mischief, usually with a starry reflection in Steve's eyes.

The last one was a lift in his tone, the way he would make his voice honey-like sweet when he tells Robin her new haircut suits her or El's new shirt brought out her eyes. The intonation always made Eddie think of bubble gum and sugared summers.

He couldn't place the last two to nobody. At least not until Steve told him about Tommy Hagan and Carol Perkins.

Obviously Eddie knew about them, but Stevie didn't talk about how they are. But how they used to be.

"Sweet." he said while passing the joint they shared laying on Eddie's bed, pressed from shoulders to their ankles. "Carol used to be sweet, warm with the naive love only kids hold" Steve's eyes were looking out the window of Eddie's room, as if he could see the young version of them just outside playing childlish games. "and Tommy used to be wild. But not like bad wild, more like he was always chasing trouble, adventure. Like kids do."

And Eddie couldn't see it, not with how the world twisted them into different people, cruel. More cold, all sharp teeth and autumn's rain.

Except he could, he could in Steve's special smile and the sound of his voice, he could see it and he could see the love that Steve Harrington had for them.

"They're douchebags now," he said when Eddie voiced it out loud "but I did loved them once, sometimes I feel like I've never stopped, they just... Grew out of my love, grew into something I couldn't."

It should be strange, to love something someone isn't anymore, but to Eddie it just spoke of the way Steve Harrington threw himself into love, how he never really stopped loving and caring. It was admirable, it was so lovable and it was so Steve-like. Earnest in the sweetest way.

It made sense that Steve Harrington would love people even through his expression of it.