#dunno how long it’ll be but as I want to finish it I’m thinking short

[ticklytums]

HELLO ALL! I have been busy as hell, and just not feeling like being here BUT

I have been reinvigorated with muse, especially for my Little Firefly au fanfic that is a slightly different ending of Luz going back in time and seeing Philip that is going to focus heavily on the Wittebane brothers and Evelyn, and other characters,

I’ve been wanting to write this for like two years now honestly?? but I think the uncertainty of how much canon might alter things kept me from it. Now that we have all the information I know exactly how to spin canon with my au! So if you enjoy the Wittebane brothers and Luz and Philip throwing shade at each other stick around 😂 

(yes it’ll definitely have a lot of tickles. Philip is a grumpy boi and his brother knows how to get that smile to turn upside down 😏 and Caleb is absolutely a giggly boy that Evelyn turns to squealing putty under her fingers)

[a-little-unsteddie]

stuck in your throat || 1.1

[here] | 1.2 | 1.3 | 1.4 | 1.5

ah hello hello :) i have finished chapter two and started into chapter three so i’m comfortable with starting to post the first chapter. idk how many parts each chapter will be, but after i finish posting all of each chapter, i will post the entire chapter on ao3.

i’ll be posting each chapter after i finish another one, so i’ll post chapter two after i finish writing chapter 3, so i always am one chapter ahead :)

this started because @/lexirosewrites followed me ages ago and i was possessed to write an omegaverse fic because of it, as a gift :D hope you enjoy <3

anyway, i think i’ve probably gone on a bit too long now, so enjoy chapter one, part one of stuck in your throat! it’s a bit short, but the next one is like almost 2k so i think it’ll even out :b

Steve sighed as he stared blearily at the screen in front of him, meticulously scanning his resume for what could have been the hundredth time. He needed it to be absolutely perfect before he sent it to any potential employers. He knew he didn’t have the most experience, given that the entirety of his knowledge of nannying came in the form of babysitting Dustin and his friends. Steve hardly counted that, considering the pups were almost all high school age at the time. Even if they were a bit much to deal with at the best of times.

Steve hoped that the fact he went to school to get his teaching license would make him stand out as a candidate.

“You’ve made it as perfect as you can.” Robin said from behind Steve, causing the omega to startle.

“Jesus, wear a bell or something.” he muttered with a grumpy glare in the alpha’s direction. He looked back at his laptop screen and sighed deeply. “No one’s gonna hire some washed up omega,” he threw his arms over his face, speaking with a whine. Robin plopped on their couch next to him and peered at the laptop screen curiously. She took it off Steve’s lap while ignoring his half-hearted protests. She scanned over it with a hum.

“You’re right,” she said with a firm nod, “no one wants to hire some washed up omega.” Steve gaped at her in shock and hurt, until Robin continued. “Good thing you’re applying, so they don’t have to!”

Steve scrunched his face up at her, sticking his tongue out. “Oh, shut the fuck up.”

“Oh, ho ho ho!” Robin said, squinting at the screen with a grin. “Looks like someone’s hiring a fulltime nanny and tutor!” she skimmed over the job ad and nodded firmly. “Apparently you’ll have to sign NDAs to work for them.” her eyes widened as she continued reading the advert. “And traveling? Sounds like exactly what you need. I’m sending your application to them.”

“What? Rob, no! I’m not done with my resum—” Steve scrambled to take the laptop from her.

“Too late!” Robin said, allowing the omega to take the laptop back.

“Robbie!” Steve whined, looking at the ‘thank you for your application!’ message that had popped up on the screen.

“What? You’ve been staring at your resume for like, six hours! It’s almost two in the morning!” she justified, feeling no remorse for pushing her friend to apply somewhere. “You weren’t going to do it, so I had to take matters into my own hands.”

Steve huffed and glared at her for a moment longer before looking at where she sent the application to. “Robbie, this looks like a perfect way to get trafficked,” he said flatly. “I mean, what kind of employer requires an NDA to be signed before they tell you who you’re working for?”

Robin shrugged, then leaned over and scrolled down to point out how much he could potentially make. “I dunno, but I’ll be with you every step of the way because that amount of money…” she whistled, flopping back into the couch.

Steve rolled his eyes, “Any place that requires an NDA probably won’t hire me, Robs. I’ve got no experience.”

“Yet!” Robin insisted, frowning at Steve. “No experience doesn’t mean you’re bad at it!”

“I could be! I don’t know!”

“You won’t be, dingus. Any pup will be better off if you’re their nanny.” Robin said in a rare moment of sincerity. Steve sighed and rolled his eyes fondly.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, but no less sincere. “Now help me pick a few other places to apply to.” he grumbled, knowing that Robin was right.

Someone would hire him, it was only a matter of time.

follow the tag #stuck in your throat or #siyt 🎤 to get notified when i post an update. i might do a tag list, but i make no promises because that seems stressful. i’ll only tag 18+ blogs, so either verify in the tags you’re 18+ or have it in your bio.

[gayjaytodd]

The year is 2002. I am seven years old. All I want is to be Robin Hood for Halloween. I have the bow, I have the clothes. - Please, I say, dragging out the word so it becomes a song: Pleaseeeeee. My mum says: - Wouldn’t you much rather be Maid Marian? We can plait your hair all pretty, and you can wear one of my dresses. She seems so excited by the idea. I put my bow away. I let her plait my hair. I wear the dress.

The year is 2009. I am (almost) fourteen years old. I’m rebellious; I dye my hair black; I wear black eyeliner, and black jeans with large holes in them; I get drunk and I get high, and I listen to angry, German rock music. I kiss boys. I think maybe I want to kiss girls too. In class, we learn about gender reassignment surgery. I think that it’s a shame I’m a girl because I’d quite like to be a boy. The thought scares me. I bury it. When my parent’s ask, I tell them I don’t want a bat mitzvah. I tell them, I don’t want to lie to G-d. I don’t tell them what I’d be lying about.

The year is 2011. I am sixteen years old. I’m lonely. I can’t focus at school. I don’t know how to make friends. There’s something wrong with me. Other girls talk about kissing boys and having sex with boys. I don’t talk about it but I do it. I kiss boys. I sleep with boys. There’s something wrong with me. When his stubble scrapes my cheek, when his big hands press my waist, I don’t just feel warm, aroused. I feel -- jealous. I want to be him, I think. G-d, I want to be a boy. I ignore the feeling. I hope it’ll go away. It doesn’t.

The year is 2013. I am eighteen years old. Two of my brother's friends want to kiss me and touch me and fuck me. I like the attention. I like their hands. I like the way they pull my hair. I don’t think about: what their hands would feel like on my chest if it was flat. what sex with them would be like if I had a dick. what kissing feels like when both of you have a beard. One of them is a soldier. I get hypothermia from swimming across a lake in Sweden in December. He calls the ambulance. - Why did you do that? He asks in the hospital. - I dunno, I answer. It’s a lie. I wanted to prove myself. That I’m tough. That I’m brave. That I’m a man. I kiss the worry off his face.

The year is 2014. I am still eighteen, though not for long. My friend and I write a play. I suggest creating characters based on ourselves. She loves the idea. The characters are both men. I cut my hair short. Boy short. I look at myself in the mirror. I feel the most at home in my body that I ever have. I’m transgender, I think. I try to say it out loud. The words die in my throat. No sound comes out. Still, I consider it a victory.

The year is 2016. I’m twenty-one years old. It’s been a year since I finished high school. I work as a teacher. I wear makeup and dresses and high heels every day. There is something wrong with me. I don’t feel like myself. I don’t feel real. I don’t eat. Everyone compliments my weight loss. I don’t say: I don’t eat because nothing matters and nothing is real and I want to die because what does it matter if I die today or tomorrow or in fifty-four years? I do say: - Thank you! - You’re so pretty now, my mum says and strokes my hair that’s gotten long again. I cut it all off two months later.

The year is 2018. I am twenty-three years old. I live in Wales. I’m studying acting. I’m doing good, but --- - You have some sort of mental block, my tutor tells me. - I miss going to Shul, I say. That's not what it is. I'm not a bad actor because I'm a bad Jew. I'm a bad actor because I don't feel at home in my body. I'm a bad actor because I don't know how to be myself. I'm a bad actor because I'm always acting. - Maybe you should start going again, she suggests. I agree. I start attending services at a temple in Cardiff. - Call me Raphael, I ask the Rabbi, my voice shaking. I’m terrified, he’ll question it. He doesn’t. He smiles and invites me in. My anxiety evaporates.

The year is 2021. I am (almost) twenty-six years old. It’s my final year in acting school. I don’t know what’ll happen afterwards. We’re doing our main show via zoom. It’s the first day after New Year’s Eve. My hands are shaking as I type out a message for the groupchat I’m in with my coursemates: I don't really vibe with being a woman, so if y’all could use gender neutral or masculine (they/he) pronouns for me from now on, I’d be massively grateful. For five minutes nothing happens. Then a notification appears at the bottom of the screen: Several people are typing... I haven’t been this scared since - Well. I have never been this scared. Then finally: Ofc!! So happy you told us :)) x Thank you for being you!! <3 Happy you felt comfortable enough to tell us! <3 Gg for letting us know, that’s a pretty big first step <3 Love you so much, proud of you <3 I cry. I smile. So what if I can’t look at myself in the mirror without dissociating? So what if the clothes I want to wear look wrong on me? It doesn’t matter. I have never felt this accepted.

The year is 2022. I am (still) twenty-six years old. I live in Cardiff. I have a degree in acting but no acting jobs. I don’t have any job at all. I want to die. Or no. That’s not right. I don’t want to die. I just don’t see the point of living. My doctor suggests hospitalisation. I refuse. My mum insists I move back home. I do. Everyone calls me by a name that doesn’t feel like it’s mine. Everyone uses the wrong pronouns. Every time I look in the mirror, I dissociate. That isn’t my body. That isn’t my face. It can’t  be. G-d wouldn’t be so cruel as to trap me in this shape. He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t. I don’t feel real. Nothing feels real. I am going to kill myself.

The year is 2022. I am twenty-seven years old. I live in Denmark. I go back to university. I tell my therapist about the suicidal ideation About the body dysphoria About the gender dysphoria About wanting to be a man who kisses other men She makes me promise to tell my family before the end of the year. I’m terrified. I tell my little brother. - What do you want to be named then? He asks without hesitation. - Mark, I answer. He lights up with excitement. - Can I call you Marky Mark? I frown. - Sure? - Cool! He keeps walking, whistling. - Thank you for being so chill about this, I say. He shrugs. Throws an arm around my shoulders. - No matter your name, he says, you’re still you and I love you. I want to cry. I punch him in the arm instead. I smile.

[thenon-fictiondays]

Hirano to Kagiura light novel translation 4-3

Chapter 4: Fall.

Part 3

Prev || Next

The cultural festival is 10 days away.

The deadline for ordering materials and ingredients has passed, and they have finally reached the peak of making sign boards and interior decorations.

At this time of year alone, many students come to school on the weekends. They should hope to finish preparing by today or tomorrow after school, but they can’t take time away from club activities.

Cultural clubs also have opportunities to present their club activities, and athletic clubs have long practices throughout the year. Making the most of one’s time in the midst of all this is in line with the school’s culture of valuing independence—or so one might think, but this tight schedule is the reason why each and every one of the executive committee members’ grades are allegedly dropping.

Midterm exams themself are next month, but they’re going to cover a lot of material. The contrast with the first semester, which had two rounds of exams in a short cycle, has even Hirano letting out a sigh.

At any rate, high school is much more challenging as a whole compared to middle school. Their teachers tell them to go visit their dream schools’ open campus days and school fairs, and in the same breath warn them that their comprehension level here will reflect in their scores on the national practice exam.

Autumn tends to be a hectic time, for second years and first years alike.

“Hirano-san, apparently there’s gonna be another typhoon in our area the day after tomorrow.”

His kouhai had come home looking restless; lately his mood has been going from sunny to rainy and back again in perfect tandem with the weather report.

Even Kagiura, who has been in a rush of busyness come second semester, has taken on a certain air of dignity in Hirano’s eyes, but right now it’s like he’s a child again. It’s as if every day is just before a field trip.

“That figures, at this time of year.”

“I wonder if next weekend will be okay…” His sigh is punctuated with a dry cough, and he fishes a lozenge out of his pocket. Maybe his throat is bothering him.

“Who knows? Well, there’s a backup day in case the festival day gets rained out.”

“Was last year okay?”

A clacking sound comes from Kagiura’s mouth, as if the lozenge knocked against his teeth.

“Hmm, how was it…I don’t remember, so prob’ly nothing happened.”

“The teacher did say it’ll only be canceled in case of heavy rain, so it seems like we’ll use the space below the gym or something, but I feel like we all might not fit…”

“Oh, right. So that’s what the courtyard booths are gonna do, huh? Sorry, I dunno.”

“I gotcha. Thanks anyway!”

“Speaking of which, have you guys worked out the schedule for your shifts yet? If I’m gonna go, I might as well go when you’re gonna be there.”

“We have, but…if we’re gonna coordinate, then I want to go around the festival with you.”

“Me?”

“I know this is last-minute, so if you already have someone else to go with, I’m cool with it.”

Yeah, that’s definitely the face of someone who’d be cool with it.

His kouhai’s expression has immediately gotten pouty, and Hirano isn’t sure if he’s going to give up quickly or dig his heels in.

“Maybe in the morning, then. All the stalls that have food are gonna be pretty crowded around noon, so I wanna get something to tide me over before then. Scout out where you wanna go ahead of time. I’ll keep an eye out, too.”

“Sure!”

Hirano opens a question packet so he doesn’t disturb Kagiura, who’d sat at his desk after declaring then I’m gonna do homework until dinnertime! The pauses between the sounds of the mechanical pencil scratching haltingly over the paper are punctuated with the occasional cough.

Like raindrops dripping on a rainy day, the slow moment stretches on, until he’s almost in a trance.

When Hirano, who’s gotten a bit worried, strains to listen, it seems like Kagiura’s drinking a lot more water than normal.

That’s understandable, he thinks.

The summer heat is still going strong; this kind of weather makes you want to jump in a pool during the daytime, while the days that turn into chilly nights are growing more frequent. 

Kagiura may be physically fit, but this can’t be an easy time for him, what with him bustling around for the festival executive committee and working up a sweat at morning and evening practices.

At the moment, it might just be a sore throat, but he’s the type that doesn’t know his own limits, so he needs to take care of himself before it turns into a full-on cold.

He’s probably stupidly resilient, though.

*****

Prev || Next

As always, huge thank you to reading list members @jeizet, @jujupanic, @massyworld, @umbreonwolfy, @acidsuzanne-blog, @neoday, @lary-the-lizard, @tsmginc 💖 you guys rock also sorry for tagging you in a post I immediately deleted lmao

[lampmanliveblogs]

Ah, I see The Collector used his space magic to summon a book filled with the completed version of all the fanfics I’ve never finished. I know I always say it’ll be a miracle if I ever get all my ideas written down, but I didn’t think it’d take an actual miracle.

You guys might think I’m exaggerating, and I am for comedic effect, but not by much. Just today, I started jotting down yet more notes on my phone while eating lunch at work. What if Masha discovered that they had psychic powers? I have so many unfinished first chapters, short snippets of dialogue, and premises for stories written down on my computer, phone, in various notebooks, pieces of cardboard, and reciept paper lying around. It’s honestly a bit ridiculous.

Oh wait, the pages are stone slabs? Or maybe they’re supposed to be clay tablets? That’s kinda cool actually, brings to mind the earliest stories written down by man in our own world. You know, like the Epic of Gilgamesh.

…hold on, I gotta go get myself a drink to dramatically spit out in shock and disbelief, give me a sec.

…

”Right, now where was I?” I say as I sit back down with a refreshing beverage. I rewind the video by a few seconds and hits play as I take a sip of my drink.

”Collectors live long, we watch things pass.”

”Pfft!” I spit out my drink in shock and disbelief, spraying my computer screen with liquid. ”What!?” I exclaim between coughs. ”Other Collectors?

I mean yeah, sure, The Collector is a child of the stars and whatnot, I kinda figured there’d maybe be some subtle hint at a larger pantheon out there, but, uh… I guess we get it confirmed right here, right now. I was even thinking of including a joke about The Collector’s parents being Mother Nature and Father Time, I just couldn’t figure out how to work it in.

Alright, calm down Lampman, think…

Based on this short summary, it appears that the collectors are if not gods, then at the very least god-like beings. They travel the cosmos and collect specimen of various lifeforms to preserve them in their collections. That in and of itself doesn’t sound all that horrible… but, ah… that second paragraph is a bit concerning.

Should the mortal beings they collect begin to meddle in the affairs of the Collectors (like, oh, I dunno, maybe NOT wanting to be turned into a collectible), they’ll scorch the planet and wipe them all out. Which… yeah that sounds about right for gods of mythology.

Our little Lord of the Fireflies doesn't like that mentality though, they’d rather play games and have fun and make friends (though evidently, The Collector still don’t care too much about what the mortals want).

Right of the bat, this does make me wonder something: is it possible that The Collector we saw in the Owlbeast’s flashback in Knock, Knock, Knockin’ on Hooty’s Door wasn’t THE Collector, but another collector? Cause that’d explain why that one didn’t look a whole lot like this Prince of Plastic

It also makes we wonder if maybe The Collector ISN’T the Grand Huntsman worshipped by the Titan Trappers, but rather, another collector (or several of them). Indeed, we see at the bottom of the page, three collectors looming over several worshipping humans. Because’s I’ve been wondering about that; aside from calling King’s dad a bully for putting him in divine time-out, The Collector really didn’t seem to have much against Titans from what we’ve seen thus far. Heck, he was super excited to meet King. So could it be that The Collector was not the one responsible for wiping out the Titans, but rather some other collector?

What I’m thinking right now is that The Collector is the divine equivalent of a kid that ran away from home. And their family either doesn’t care, doesn’t know, or enough time has not passed for them to notice.

(hm… a kid that ran away from home because they didn’t fit in with their peers… where have I heard a similar story before…?)

(the book mentions that the collectors would scorch the air… the demon realm planet is covered in a boiling sea… perhaps scorching the air is a more poetic way of saying ”set off a bunch of volcanoes”? In real life, the worst mass extinction event known was caused not by the meteorite that wiped out the non-avian dinosaurs, but a massive flood basalt taking place about 251.9 million years ago, colloquially referred to as ”The Great Dying.” Volcanoes are good at killing stuff, is my point. and undersea volcanoes spewing out lava would explain why the sea is always boiling)

I mean, look at this face. Does this look like the face of someone who could wipe out a race of giants? Look at him! He couldn’t hurt a fly.

Except Belos, but he doesn’t count.

And I guess they did turn an island’s worth of people into puppets and force them to play along in their games, hmmm…

[sticks-and-stones-are-great]

Mediwhump May - Day 6

"Needlephobic"

(Mystery Men - 1999)

@mediwhumpmay

“What was he wearing?” Roy limped over to the curb, Eddie guiding him by the arm.

“Shingles.” Eddie grunted as they sat down together.

Jeff shielded his eyes from the flashing blue and red lights across the street. “He had fashioned them into some kind of armor. My forks were nearly useless.”

Roy grimaced as he stretched out his leg.

“You got him eventually, right in the ass.” Eddie added. 

“True.” Jeff sighed as he counted his leftover ammunition. “He deserved it. Especially for the nails. Why does one decide to use a nail gun when interrupting a performance of Shakespeare in the Skate Park?”

“Roofing.” Roy grasped the long nail embedded in the meat of his inner thigh and pulled. It slid free, painfully, covered in blood. Roy let out a long whine and held back a sob. “His theme is roofing.” He rasped. 

“Oh.” Eddie nodded. “The shingles, the nail gun, the-”

“The rebellion against roofless theater productions?” Jeff finished. 

“So weird.” Roy sighed. “But dedicated.”

Eddie caught sight of the bloody nail that Roy held. “Oh no, Roy, you should have let the medics take that out.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine.” Roy waved him off. “I’ve had worse. Besides, they’re busy with Mercutio.”

“I suppose-” Eddie cut himself off. “Oh come on, Roy, you’ve got one in your hand!” He grabbed Roy’s wrist and held it up.

The long nail had flown through Roy’s palm and the tip poked through the back of his hand. It wasn’t bleeding much, but that was because the nail was plugging the hole. 

Jeff frowned. “How many did he get you with, Roy?”

“I dunno.” Roy shrugged. He was tired and sore and thinking was hard. “ A few.”

“A few?” Eddie stood up. “How do you not know? Hang on, let’s do a count. I can’t believe I have to do this for you.”

“I can believe it.” Jeff stood up too. 

“Going to need a metal detector.”

“Come on, guys. I just wanna go home.” Roy whined. 

“Okay, so one in the hand.” Eddie ignored him and began to circle, looking for other nails. “One in the boot. Ouch, straight through your foot.” “Yeah, I was nailed to the stage for a minute.” Roy laughed weakly.

Jeff laughed as well then quickly stopped. “The one from his thigh.”

“Three so far.” Eddie nodded. 

“I think that’s it.” Roy grumbled.

“Let’s at least get you checked out.” Eddie offered his hand to help Roy up from the curb. “Also when was the last time you got your tetanus shot?”

“My what?”

Eddie looked over at Jeff, who nodded silently.

“Let’s go to the clinic.”

“Aw, man.” Roy whined.

Ten minutes later, they piled out of Eddie’s car and into the 24-hour clinic. It was quiet around midnight so the wait was pretty short. A nurse took Roy back, and Eddie and Jeff stayed in the waiting room. 

“How long do you think it’ll take?” Eddie asked Jeff, flipping through a sticky magazine.

“Oh.” Jeff thought for a moment. “Five minutes.” He answered.

“How about ten?”

“You’re on. I’ll watch the clock.”

Four minutes later, the nurse reappeared. 

Jeff stood up. “You owe me dinner.”

The nurse walked over. “Would either of you be able to accompany your friend? He’s…” She searched for a word. “Agitated.”

Eddie stood too. “We’ll both come back.”

The nurse led them back to the examination room. Roy immediately tried to leave as soon as she opened the door. 

“Eddie, I’m fine. Let’s leave. Get me out of here.” Roy spoke quickly in a low mutter. “Come on, Jeff, let’s go, let’s go.”

“Whoa, there.” Eddie gently corralled Roy back in, like a spooked horse. “They’re just going to give you a little check-up, Roy.”

“And a shot!” Roy’s voice almost squeaked. “I don’t-... I don’t like…” “Don’t like needles.” Eddie finished. 

Roy sat back down on the exam table, pale and sweating. “Yeah.” He whispered. 

“We know, that’s why we’re here.” Eddie reassured. “It’ll be really quick. You don’t want tetanus, right?”

“Lock-jaw, Roy.” Jeff chimed in, seating himself in a nearby chair. 

“That actually sounds better than the shot.” Roy said.

“You won’t even feel it.” Eddie said. “Besides, you’ve been stabbed before, Roy, how are you scared of needles?”

“I dunno. I’d rather be stabbed. Can they do that? Use a knife? For the shot?” Roy looked around. “Or a scalpel. Anything but…” He trailed off. 

“You know.” Jeff tapped his chin in thought. “This reminds me of the time we saved the blood drive nurses from the Blood Bandits and you lost so much blood that they just strapped you in the chair to give you blood with that absolutely enormous needle-”

“Okay, okay.” Roy hopped off the table. “I’m leaving.”

“I can’t let you do that, Roy.” Eddie stood in his way. “As your friend, I am going to make sure you get this shot.”

Roy laughed, pretended to back off, then feinted to the left, and made a dash to the right. He tried to get to the door. But he was full of nails and too slow. 

Eddie grabbed him. Jeff stood in front of the door. 

And then the doctor walked in. 

“What have we here?” She asked. 

All three of them stopped struggling. 

“Nothing.” Roy straightened his coat. 

“Nothing.” Eddie let go of Roy.

“Nothing.” Jeff picked up a fork he’d dropped. 

“I see.” The doctor put down her clipboard. “Well, which one of you is Roy?”

Jeff pointed at Roy.

“Thanks, man.” Roy sighed. 

“I will take a bullet for you, Roy, but not a shot”

The doctor sighed. “So Roy, you had an accident with a…” She turned a page. “Nail?”

“Nail gun.” Eddie corrected. 

“Okay, and how many nails?” “Three.” Roy sighed.

“We think.” Jeff added. 

“You think?” The doctor raised an eyebrow.

“Pretty sure.” Eddie admitted.

“Uh-huh.” The doctor paused for a moment, looked over each of them, then proceeded. “Well, let’s get those nails out, Roy. Then we’ll go from there.”

Roy nodded, almost green.

The doctor and an assistant bandaged the thigh wound and extracted the nail from Roy’s foot. The hand was last. Slowly, carefully, the doctor took the nail out and dressed the wound. She kept up a conversation with Roy the whole time, who was visibly relaxing. 

Once that was done, Roy sighed. “That wasn’t so bad. Could we save the-... the shot for another day.”

“No, we can’t.” The doctor answered. 

“Why not?”

“Because we’ve already done it.” The doctor stepped back. She had been blocking Roy’s line of sight of his other arm. 

The assistant was currently pulling a needle out of Roy’s shoulder.

“Oh.” Roy swayed. And fainted.

“There he goes.” Eddie sighed.

“He’s reliable.” Said Jeff.

[foxingpeculiar]

Hokay. More diary stuff. State of the Union today. Nothing to be too concerned with.

I did not go to the barbecue. I feel bad about that, would like to have been in a place where I could go, but I was not.

Ended up staying up til like 12:30, so about 21 hours on 3 hours sleep (and like <5 for the past few nights), having taken 2 sleeping pills during the course of that time, but not slept.

But I was finally drifting off, so I took one more and slept til noon.

Woke up feeling very leaden. Some coffee is helping with that.

At some point today, I should send some email, acknowledging why I wasn’t there. I do not look forward to this, but will manage it. Mostly, though, I have to psych myself up to go to work at 5.

Work I can usually do, cos it’s physical and kind of dissociative. I don’t have to think that much. If I still feel like I feel now—foggy, heavy—by like 3:30 or 4 though, I’m gonna call out. It’ll be fine (I do it less than almost anyone there, so I can get away with it if I need to), but also I think the movement would do me good, as would the money. So I’m gonna a try.

Tomorrow all I have to do is some light editing on the CNF essay and a reflection paper on such. I can be real in that paper, represent where I’m really at rather than having to perform an academic position—so it won’t be that bad. That one HAS to get done.

The other assignments… I’ll have the rest of tomorrow, Thursday, and most of Friday to do them and they’re less significant. I might not get A’s if I don’t do them (a first in many, MANY years of college), but I don’t know if I care. It’s another “we’ll try and see what happens” situation.

Then it’s done, I can take a couple days to breathe and then send some emails setting things up for next year, once I have a chance to think clearly.

I finally did the floors in here last night, in a random (and short) burst of energy. They needed it. My hope is that, after all this is cleared out of my mental RAM, I can take a few days and get the rest of the place back to 100%.

And then we can take a moment to evaluate where we are and go from there.

It feels a little like the places I was in at the end of the school years I had in Denver. Like, both years, I did great fall semester, but by the end of spring, was so burned out I had to take incompletes.

Won’t have to do that this time. Can finish, and will pass, if perhaps not to the usual standard. But the feeling, that… I dunno, intensity of things? Feels similar.

And there is a common denominator between those years and this one.

Haven’t heard anything significant from her in a minute. This is not unusual at this point, especially because I know she’s having an equally difficult time right now. She’ll be along soon and that’ll be… I dunno, it’ll help.

I can see from the outside, how it might seem like she’s unhealthy for me, y’know, if this is where I end up. But it’s not her—it’s me. I think to deal with whatever’s going on there, I have to go to some very difficult places. The thing you most need being in the place you least want to look, that kind of thing.

I wasn’t ready then. I’m not sure I’m ready now, but it is nonetheless happening. And maybe that’s why I’ve felt so stuck for so long.

[babyitsfallin]

i'm setting off, but not without my muse | chan

pairing: bang chan/reader

word count: 1.4k

genre: romance, fluff

warnings: none! just some nice cuddling and words of reassurance

summary: chan works too much, you think he should take some time for himself.

Chan is a workaholic.

It’s not a quality that particularly goes under the radar by really anyone; not his groupmates, not his fellow staff, his family, him, but more importantly: you. There are at least four different cans of Monster littered across his desk, the lights dim in the small, confined space. His monitor hangs above him while he works, eyes darting from screen to screen while he clicks into different sections of the song he’s working on. A lazy bass pours out of the speakers as he clicks and drags it, pulling a distorted cymbal sound on top of it until he’s satisfied.

You like watching him work. He’s intent and focused, quite frankly it’s a little sexy, but mostly it’s relaxing. You get to sit and lounge, reading or playing on your phone or working on your own stuff while he does his. It’s a type of togetherness and closeness that’s comfortable, you don’t feel the need to talk or really say much of anything; just being in one another’s presence is enough. Plus, it’s pretty fascinating in the times you do pay attention to what he’s doing. He tends to do things without realizing, muttering under his breath, a mix between Korean and his thick Australian accent, for example. Sometimes he groans, pouting at himself for not getting the result he wants until he sighs and gets back to it. You usually don’t interfere, it’s part of his process. It’s not until he’s doing it in a timespan you deem a little too short for him to be doing it that often that you suggest a break, and he’s forced to sigh and agree with you.

“What do you think of this?” he asks, breaking you out of your thoughts. Your Twitter feed shines on your laptop next to you on the couch, long forgotten in favor of admiring your talented boyfriend. He clicks play, and the instrumental he’s been working on practically bounces off of the walls. It’s slower than the usual song the boys use, something more adjacent to the song he and Hyunjin worked on, but not quite as sexy. A cool electric guitar curls in a few seconds into the intro and you smile, nodding along with the beat. It’s good, no it’s better than good.

“I think it sounds like a new single,” you praise, letting yourself fall into the sound as it envelops you. “What’s the topic for the song, anyways?”

“Dunno, Felix is actually supposed to be set to write this time, they really liked some of what he did on Surfin’,” he replies, and he dons that sweet, adoring smile whenever he talks about Felix, warm and caring. “But he wanted me to produce the instrumental for it, we’re supposed to discuss how it’ll all sound with the lyrics sometime this week.”

“Wow, you sound so professional,” you tease, and Chan rolls his eyes playfully as he turns the track down, swiveling his chair to look at you. “I’m excited to hear it, though. I can’t believe he gets to write his first full, real song.”

“I know right?” Chan smiles. “I’m so proud of him. Hey, maybe you can be in when he records it, give some thoughts, yeah?”

“Wow, what an honor,” you intertwine your fingers together, and place your chin on top of them. “Of course I can.”

“Ah, perfect,” Chan stretches his arms above his head, the edges of his cut shirt revealing his sides as a yawn finally escapes him while the track runs to the end. It isn’t until then that you realize it’s well past any decent time to sleep, flicking your eyes to your laptop to see the clear 5:38 AM right in the corner. Oops.

“We should get some sleep,” you suggest, and you catch Chan closing his eyes for a second, narrowing your own at him.

“Mmm, soon, I just need to –”

“Babe,” you put a touch of an edge in your voice, more of a warning than anything, and he purses his lips at you. “It’s almost six in the morning. The track can wait for finishing touches, it’s not going to run away,” you tease.

“But –”

“C’mere,” you close your laptop, placing it onto the floor as you scoot over, patting the spot next to you on the couch as he eyes it. He stands up, and you hear a light pop in his knees as he makes his way to you. He settles in next to you, wrapping his arms around your middle, as he buries his face into your neck.

He’ll never admit it, you think, but he needs the break. He’s always doing something, writing or producing or giving an interview or learning choreography or taking care of the other members. He doesn’t mind, you know that, but Chan’s always been one to overextend himself. He always gives so much of himself to others, you included, and has a tendency to forget himself. You catch a glimpse of his eyebags, deep and heavy from the corner of your eye and it has you bringing a hand to curl in his hair as he properly relaxes into you.

“You shouldn’t work yourself so hard,” you mumble, letting your nails scratch lightly at his scalp. He gives a sound of appreciation and squeezes you tighter.

“I know,” he whispers into your neck, and it tickles just a touch.

“I’m serious,” you keep your voice low. You don’t want to yell at him, but more so…to remind him. Chan’s always taking care of others, watching over them and making sure they’re taken care of. You think it’s time someone was there to take care of him for once. “You shouldn’t worry about being up into the morning hours to just work on something. It’s not good for you.”

He stays silent, his hand rubbing circles into your shirt, like he’s contemplating your words, actually taking them to heart. His breath is soft and warm against your skin, and despite the conversation, it’s a comforting feeling to be surrounded by him, held by him.

“Okay,” he says, and he shifts, resting his chin against your shoulder to look at you. “…I’ll ask for some time off. It’s been a while, anyway. We could all use it.”

“…Really?”

“Yeah, really,” he smiles, and he presses a kiss against your shoulder. “Let’s take a trip somewhere, just the two of us.”

“…Really?” you ask again, and he laughs, bright and like honey, your favorite sound in the world.

“Yes, really,” he grins, teasing tone in his voice, a light giggle mixed in. “Feels like the only time alone we get is in here, you deserve romance! A picnic and a night sky!”

“I like watching you work,” you insist. “It’s nice, and relaxing.”

“Did you not just tell me I work too much?” he grins, and you narrow your eyes at him good naturedly.

“You do,” you say, and move to kiss the tip of his nose, earning a sound that crosses between a giggle and fake disgust. “I’m just saying don’t feel bad that this it the time we have to spend together. It’s not a punishment to watch you create masterpieces.”

“I’m so glad you think Cheese is a masterpiece.”

“It is, you helped make it,” you grin, and he returns it, letting his eyes slide shut. “It doesn’t matter where we are, or what we’re doing, I’m just glad I get to be with you doing it. But,” you pause, and he lifts his brows in wait, keeping his eyes shut. “ I do want us to feed each other and be totally gross while you point out constellations.”

“Then I guess I’ll just have to give you exactly what you want, huh?” he hums.

“I guess you will.”

He smiles in response, and you start to feel the evening out of his breath, a whispered, groggy “I love you,” before sleep finally pulls him in, rested against you, his arms loose around your waist now as he leans into you. You rest your cheek onto the top of his head, letting your own lids slide shut, cuddling in next to him.

It’s not the most ideal sleeping arrangement, you know you’d both be more comfortable sleeping laying down, even in the tiny bed back at his dorm, but having him draped all over you, finally getting the rest that’d been pulling at him for ages, well, the ideals could always be saved for later. Right now you had your boy, and a sweet promise of something even more exciting later; what more could you ask for.

[jadequeen88]

A Waitress’ Worst Nightmare

A/N: Written for the BNHA Degeneracy 9-5 collab! THIS IS 18+ MINORS DNI

Warnings: TW.sexual harassment, TW.oral(recieving), TW.degredation TW.nipple play, TW.Mommy kink

Pairing: busboy!Keigo, linecook!Dabi, f!waitress!Reader

You’re a college student just trying to get by. The biggest worry you should have right now is if you had enough time to finish that psych paper or when you were going to meet up with your calculus study group. Instead, you’ve got a much larger problem facing you...A problem that has permeated through every aspect of your life. Your coworkers were Grade-A-Assholes who decided making your life miserable was on the top of their to do lists.

You thought waitressing at the 24/7 diner downtown would be a breeze. Money was tight and since you were 21 and almost done with your undergrad, you wanted a little more financial independence. Little did you know when the owner hired you that you’d have to work alongside the two biggest shitheads in the city.

First there’s Keigo. To the untrained eye, he could almost seem charming. But you found out pretty quickly what a dick he was. He was working as a “busboy”, but in reality he didn’t do anything but flirt with every woman within his field of vision. Keigo would leave the tables a mess until there wasn’t a clean one left in your station and you’d be forced to do his job for him.

“What, babe? Stop getting your panties in a twist. I’m real busy these days. You know I’m practically running this place now.”

Oh yeah. How could you forget? He took every opportunity to remind you of that fact. Keigo’s dad happened to be buddies with the owner, garnering a sense of trust with the old man. He slowly weaseled his way into running day-to-day operations while the elderly owner stayed home most days.

Although the diner needed another busboy to pick up his slack, Keigo refused to tell the boss to hire another. You overheard a phone conversation between Keigo and your boss just last night:

“Nah, boss. We’ve got it covered here. No need to hire another busboy. The waitresses are just finding reasons to nag. Women, am I right?”

You were fuming.

***

As bad as Keigo was, his friend Dabi was exponentially worse. The line cook was, without a doubt, a drug dealer. The only motive he could possibly have for working there is having a place to do business with his “customers”(and of course, to help Keigo make your life a living hell). It clearly wasn’t because he needed the money since you’d seen his “friends” slip him generous wads of cash when they stopped by the restaurant. If cleaning up Keigo’s messes sucked, trying to put in customer’s orders with Dabi was pure torture. 

“Eggs over easy instead of scrambled? I dunno, Princess. Sounds like it’ll be a pain in my ass. Whatcha gonna give me if I do it?”

Then he’d lick his lips with his long pierced tongue, leering at you over the counter. Gag... You wondered if that ever actually worked in his favor. 

One semi-decent thing you can say about Keigo is that he’d never actually laid a finger on you. The same can’t be said for Dabi. You learned after your first day to wear shorts under the skirt of your uniform. You were behind the counter slicing lemons when he took his spatula and lifted the hem of your skirt. Before you realized what he was doing, he was calling out to his partner in crime.

“Fuuuuuck, Kei! Look at the ass on the new girl!”

You wondered what was going on until you felt a breeze and realized it was your ass that was on display. You’d slapped the spatula away and straightened your skirt, but not before they both got an eyeful of your black, lace panties. You cried for ten minutes in the bathroom after your shift that day.

***

The day you’d been dreading was finally upon you. No, it wasn’t a big test or project due... You had to ask off work for your cousin’s wedding. That meant dealing with Keigo (who was now in charge of making the schedule each week).

You squared your shoulders and went over what you would say over, and over in your head so you wouldn’t stumble over your words when you had to face him. 

“I need to have Saturday off for my cousin’s wedding. I can work the Sunday morning shift instead.”

This was repeated on a loop in your brain as you walked down the darkened corridor towards the office. You let out a long sigh and gently rapped your knuckles against the wooden frame. The sound of shuffling and muffled voices seeped through the thin faux wood and a moment later, the door swung inward. The thick cloud of smoke and strong, skunky smell almost knocked you flat on your ass. Instead of seeing Keigo alone working on the schedule, you saw that he and Dabi were hotboxing in the small office.

Knowing they were back here getting high while you closed the diner by yourself was the last straw. You slam the door behind you and stomp forward to lean over the desk Keigo was propped up behind.

“Listen you shit heads!” you slammed you fists on the desk knocking over a jar of pens. “I am so fucking sick of slaving away in this shit hole while you two get high and fuck off back here. You’re going to let me have Saturday off or I swear to Christ, I’m calling the boss and spilling my guts! About the weed, the drug deals, the snarky remarks, the groping, EVERYTHING! I’ve had enough!”

There was a moment of silence then the two of them burst into a fit of laughter. In a blind fit of rage, you leap across the desk and grab Keigo by the throat. When you made contact and squeezed as hard as your small hand would allow, a whimper escaped his throat and his eyes rolled back.

Now it was your turn to laugh.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” you gripped your fingers tightly again to see if you could pull any more sounds from him. He didn’t disappoint. This time it was a whimper followed by him nervously mumbling.

“Heh, Kid... Seriously, knock it off. This shit isn’t funny.”

Your eyes traveled down the front of his body and when they landed on the crotch of his baggy khakis, your suspicions were confirmed. This loser who acted like a certified pussy-slayer popped a boner just from you choking him.

You leaned in close to his face, using this as your chance to get revenge for all the hell he had put you through. “Aww little Keigo... Not used to being roughed up?” you cooed. “Dumb little baby Keigo...I bet if I kept this up, you’d come in your pants like a dirty slut, wouldn’t you?”

You felt movement over your shoulder and heard a deep chuckle. “Dude you’re so pathe-”

Dabi gasped as you grabbed him by the crotch with your free hand and squeezed. He was already hard. You met his eyes and see panic etched across his features. A sadistic grin spread across your mouth as you tightened your grip. His head fell back and let out a whimper almost as needy as Keigo’s. 

“You’re both going to do exactly what I say or I swear, I will tell every girl you ever try to speak to what a couple of pathetic virgins you two are...”

***

“Ungh! Plea-please... Harder! I... I need more!”

*SMACK*

Your hand lands hard across the blonde’s face, drawing a pathetic whimper from his throat. He thrust his weeping cock along your shin whimpering, craving more pressure to relieve his suffering.

“You don’t get to tell me what you need, Keigo. Shut your fucking mouth and be grateful you get this much.”

You throw your head back against the office chair and hum as Dabi eats your cunt like it’s his last meal.

“Mmm... See Keigo? See what a good boy Dabi is being? He knows his stupid mouth is only meant for one thing... Making Mommy’s pussy feel good.”

The praise causes the dark haired man between your thighs to moan into your clit sending a pulse of pleasure through your lower body. The ball of his piercing circles your clit and you feel the familiar ache of an impending orgasm begin to tighten in your belly.

Keigo starts shoving Dabi away from you with a growl. “This is bullshit! I haven’t even had a chance yet!”

Dabi elbows him, ”Fuck off Kei! I almost had her finished off!”

Furious from being jerked back from the edge of your orgasm, you grab a fist full of blonde hair in one hand and black in the other. You pull their flushed faces up to look you in the eye.

“If you want to come at all, you will shut...the fuck...up... and get me off. Now”

Dabi wasted no time in diving back into your dripping slit, panting heavily while he ran his pierced tongue in and out of your swollen entrance. Keigo attacked your neck, whimpering as he planted sloppy kisses down your collarbone until his tongue was licking long stripes up you clothed nipple.

“I think you can do a little better than that, baby,’ you cooed into Keigo’s messy blonde tresses, sweetly tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. He took that as his cue to remove the clothing between your hardening bud and his hot, wet tongue.

Keigo latched onto your nipple, nursing it with vigor while he gently grazed his fingertips over the other. You heard him mumble something into the soft swell of your breast.

“Speak up,” you pull him away from your nipple with a pop, “I didn’t catch that...”

“I-I said... I...”

Your attention was drawn to the man between your legs as he began to suck down hard on your clit. The hand you had wrapped in Keigo’s hair tightened causing him to cry out.

“Mommy! Please! Wanna be your good boy! Wanna make Mommy come...” He sobs as he starts frantically licking and sucking your neglected nipple. This pushes you over the edge and your long awaited orgasm rushes over you. 

After you come down from your high, you push them off and begin getting dressed while the two men you left on the floor look up at you with wide eyes.

Dabi, still panting from eating you so vigorously, chokes out a little half sob.

“But.. where are you goin? We did what you asked!”

“Yeah babe! what the fuck!”

You eyed both men and let the tension hang in the air before turning and walking to the door.

“Give me the whole weekend off. Then we’ll arrange something Monday,” you look over your shoulder, “As long as you don’t piss me off before then..”

You walk out of the office with the biggest grin you’ve had in a long time and feeling a lot more relaxed. Maybe this job was going to turn out better than you expected. 

[99liv3s]

A Quite Different Attraction

Anna stood beside her best friend, Amber, reading the sign in front of the building her friend had pulled her over to! The two of them were on vacation, and had seen lots of sights and done lots of things, but they were looking for something different, and Amber thought she had found such a unique and unheard of experience when she found this "attraction" the two of them were now standing in front of.

"Instant Pregnancies!"

"Experience the wonder and sensation of being pregnant and giving birth, all in the span of 20 minutes! One of our staff will assist in putting a baby inside you and monitoring you during the process! Additionally, you may choose weather or not to keep the baby afterward, or donate it to our New Life clinics!"

"Cost: $30 a person, no more than 3 persons at one time."

"Disclaimer: This procedure requires intimate access to your body - Experience at your own risk!"

Amber brushed her long black hair out of her face and looked at Anna, her brown eyes twinkling. "Let's do it," she said excitedly!! "It's something neither of us have done, and it'll be quite the experience!"

Anna ran her fingers through her short blonde hair, thinking. "I dunno, Amber," she said apprehensively, though she was also curious, "I mean, it sounds a little suspicious."

"Oh, come on, Anna, haven't you ever just wanted to be pregnant??" Amber asked, beaming.

Anna shook her head with a snort of laughter. "No, I'm not you!" She responded, though in her mind, she was just as intrigued as her friend, though maybe more cautious than her.

"It's only $30, and we don't even get stuck with a kid afterward," Amber pleaded. "What's the harm in trying it out?"

Anna looked at the sign again, her green eyes scanning the advertisement. She WAS curious about this, both the sensation of being pregnant and how this "attraction" would manage to pull off pregnancy and birth in 20 minutes, something that normally took months. "Ok, I'm in!" Anna said, nodding.

Amber practically cheered, and the two of them eagerly entered the building.

They were greeted by a young woman behind a counter, who smiled at them. "We're here for the instant pregnancies," Amber said to her. The woman nodded. "Excellent," she said. "Both of you are participating, I assume?" Amber nodded, and as the two of them paid and gave their names, Anna asked, "How does it work??" The woman continued to smile, as if this wasn't the first time she had been asked this. "Well, it works like you'd expect any pregnancy to work," she answered. "One of our staff will insert his sperm into you, and impregnate you, it all just happens at a faster pace is all." She smiled at the expressions of shock, confusion, and wonder on the girls' faces. "I know, you are wondering what makes it so fast," she continued. "Well, our staff have all undergone special fertility treatments, which are combined with a pill both of you lovely ladies will be required to take before I let you back." The woman placed two pills on the counter, one for each of them. Anna, now almost trembling with excitement despite her previous reluctance, grabbed her pill and swallowed it, followed by Amber a second later.

"Daniel will be the one assisting both of you this evening," the woman said, looking at her computer screen as the girls took their pills. "Now, head down the hall behind me to room C!" "Go in, and Daniel will be with you both shortly!"

The girls made their way to room C and entered it. It was a moderately sized room, with two chairs and two beds inside it, along with a mirror on the wall next to the door they had used to enter. Amber sat in one of the chairs as Anna positioned herself on the foot of one of the beds, looking around. Not even a minute had passed when a young, dark haired man entered the room, wearing a staff coat, which he immediately took off!

"Greetings, lovely ladies," he said to them, smiling warmly. "I'm Daniel, and I'll be your support staff member today!" "Who wishes to go first??"

Amber and Anna looked at each other, both silently asking each other if they wanted to go first. Amber was thinking that, since she was the one that convinced Anna to do this in the first place, it was only fair that Amber go first, but then Anna spoke up timidly...

"I... I will go first," she said in a soft voice. Daniel smiled brightly at her and started to undress. "Very well, Anna, I think your name was! Please take off your clothing!"

Anna did so, removing everything but her bra, as Daniel had finished getting completely naked and approached her. "I'm nervous," Anna squeaked out, not making eye contact with anyone. Daniel placed a hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry, I will do everything I can to be gentle and make you as comfortable as possible!" Daniel said softly, and there was something reassuring to his voice. Anna nodded, as if giving approval, then Daniel entered her.

He really was gentle, and Anna found herself gasping as he bounced against her, once, twice, three times. She squeaked in surprise as she saw her belly start to swell instantly, as she felt Daniel release into her. Daniel didn't make a sound through the entire experience, and then a few minutes later, with Anna sporting a 9-month pregnant belly, Daniel pulled out of her, smiling.

"See?" Daniel said gently and warmly, patting Anna on the top of the head and ruffling her short blonde hair. "It wasn't so bad, was it??" Anna didn't respond, too busy looking down at her belly, admiring herself. She rubbed it, feeling the baby inside move around. "Oh wow!" Anna breathed. She looked up into Amber's eyes. "It feels great," Anna said to her. "You're going to love it!"

Amber immediately jumped up and said "Ok, do me now!!" She quickly undressed as Daniel laughed softly. Within minutes, Daniel was in her, thrusting softly. Anna watched them as she continued to rub her belly, smiling!! Happily, she thought, "I have a pregnant belly of my very own, and soon Amber will have one too!!"

Amber filled up just as quickly as Anna had done, and when Daniel pulled out, Amber was sporting a full term bump that rivaled Anna's, smiling happily and rubbing it. Daniel redressed as Amber started cooing and talking softly to her belly.

"My job is also to assist you with the births," Daniel said to them. "You'll have about 10 minutes to enjoy your pregnancy before labor begins." "I'm here to help any way I can, though some couples and even friends have found it a much more intimate and enjoyable experience to have only each other for support, and refuse the help of staff during labor." "If you would prefer that, then..."

"Yeah," Amber said, as Anna nodded. "We prefer to be alone during labor! Just us!!"

"Very well," Daniel said, smiling. "The room is all yours until the babies are born." "I will give you both some privacy!" "Make yourselves comfortable any way you can!" "When you are ready to leave, just press that button by the door and I or another staff member will assist you!" Daniel opened the door and said "Enjoy your pregnancies!" before closing it again, leaving the girls alone to admire themselves and each other.

It was the most glorious 10 minutes the two girls had ever experienced in their lives. They rubbed and felt each other's bellies, compared the sizes of them, (Anna's was slightly bigger), and talked about how much they enjoyed feeling pregnant, and wondering which of them would go into labor first.

Quite suddenly, Anna felt the baby drop into her hips and let out a cry of pain. "AAAHHH!!" "Amber, I think I'm in labor!!"

Amber responded with a loud moan of her own. "I...I am too!"

The two girls clutched their bellies, moaning and crying as the pain and pressure built. They decided to walk around the room, slowly waddling and whimpering as the contractions quickly worsened. Then, after a few minutes of this, Anna felt her water break, and a splash told her Amber's had too.

"AAAHHH, I NEED TO PUSH!!" Amber screamed out and immediately bore down, as Anna fell back onto one of the beds, panting!! "It hurts!!" She cried. "Amber, it hurts!"

"I know," Amber responded "But just push when you feel like you have toooooooo!!" Amber let out a long moan as the baby pushed through her birth canal. Using the mirror on the opposite wall, Amber could see the head already beginning to crown.

Anna was crying hysterically. She wailed when the baby pushed, and her legs trembled as a head began to poke out of her as well. Amber pushed hard, realizing that her friend needed her badly, to coach her. Amber tried to ignore the pain as she pushed the head out. "AAAAHHHHHH!!" she screamed as the head crowned and then popped out, just as Anna gave the most horrible scream yet. "I'm coming, Anna baby, I'm coming!" Amber said, panting, the head hanging between her legs.

Anna screamed and screamed as the baby began to emerge. Faintly, she heard a baby crying from Amber's corner of the room, and then her friend was there next to her, clutching her hand and trying to calm her. "It's ok, Anna, it's ok," Amber told her. "Oh, God, it hurts," Anna cried between heavy breaths. "Anna, you gotta push," Amber said to her, gently but firmly.

Anna pushed, and then let out a cry of agony as the baby crowned. "IT BURNS!!" Anna yelled. "AAAAHHHHH!!" Amber watched as the head emerged, realizing that this baby was bigger than the one she herself had birthed. Amber squeezed Anna's hand as the girl screamed and screamed, stretching her legs even wider to accommodate the large head. After another minute of this, the head finally popped out and Amber caught the baby as it slid from Anna's vagina.

Anna's baby was a 10 pound boy, Amber's a 6 pound girl. The friends found that whatever had accelerated their pregnancies and births also made them recover almost instantly. The two girls decided to send the babies to the New Life Clinic, where they would be adopted by families that wanted children but couldn't have them of their own. As the two girls left the attraction, chatting happily about the experience, they decided that they would one day come back and do it again, and maybe even bring friends!!

End!

[t0shii]

kirishima, denki and sero getting their feelings hurt by their s/o who didn't mean to hurt them and just said/did something mean in the spurt of the moment with happy ending?? i'm in the mood for angst and fluff lol, that's it, that's the tweet. </3

% you accidentally hurt their feelings

.! kirishima, denki, sero (sep) x gn!r

.! fluff (angst if u squint) / not proofread

.! ah tysm for the request! hope this fulfills your requests hehe

kirishima

- gives you the benefit of the doubt

- "they definitely didn't mean to do that" n ignores the sadness pooling in his heart :((

- but eventually he can hide his feelings anymore and it's obvious he's upset about something

- give him a big kiss pls :(

the both of you were just chilling in his dorm, having random conversations until the topic of quirks came up. "yeah i don't know my quirk is kind of, i don't know boring? it's not flashy like yours or bakugou's." he sighs "hm that's true, that's why i'm glad mine is cool." you chuckle and he basically deflates as your sentence progresses. "mhm." is all he says as he continues scrolling through his phone.

it's not til a little later you realize he's acting all gloomy and too quiet, "kiri? is something wrong?" you ask, sitting up to look at him properly. "and don't say 'no' because i can see something is wrong." he frowns, eyes turning glossy, "do you really agree that my quirk is boring?" he asks, looking down to his hands. "what? of course not! i think your quirk amazing. when did i say it was boring?" "earlier... i said my quirk was boring and you said 'that's true.'" you take his hand in yours, "kiri, i was agreeing that his is flashy. baby, just because your quirk is so flashy as bakugou's doesn't mean it's boring. i think your quirk is super interesting, plus it makes you look super manly!" you smile at him gently, "i never meant to say your quirk was boring, i'm sorry kiri." "you mean it?" "of course, there's not a single boring thing about you-" you press a kiss to his lips, "quirk included, my love."

denki

- sadly is used to people not really caring about his feelings

- so he just ignores it

- but isn't good at hiding his emotions, especially when he's sad so ofc you notice:(

- a big hug is needed

"denki, c'mon i just went over this." "i'm sorry y/n, i just can't understand it!" "yes you can if you'd actually try!" you'd trying your best to tutor your boyfriend in a subject he was struggling in but it was proving to be a waste of time, he wasn't retaining a bit of information. "i am trying y/n." he mumbles, "alright let's go over it again." you explain the problem again and help him work through it and though he has trouble concentrating because of what you said, he eventually finishes the assignment.

a few hours later, you're both laying in his bed. one hand combing through his hair while the other scrolls through your phone and his head is resting on your tummy you hear a soft sniffle. "kami? everything okay?" he feels like a fool for crying over something that happened so long ago, "yeah." he answers wobbly, "denki, baby, what's wrong?" you've already put your phone away by now, "it's nothing y/n, really." "babe, c'mon what's the matter?" you wipe a stray tear falling down his cheek with your thumb. "i was trying my best to understand earlier, i really was. i'm so sorry i can't be as smart as you or midoriya." immediately, you feel horrible for snapping at him earlier, "i'm sorry for saying that, and snapping at you. i shouldn't have and it was wrong of me. i know you're only trying your best to prepare for the exam, and i'm so so proud of you." "you mean it?" he sits up to look at you, "of course silly, i'm always proud of you! no matter what." you wrap your arms around his waist in a hug, "i'm sorry for hurting your feelings." "it's okay, if we keep hugging like this it'll make up for it."

sero

- is honest with you

- "hey babe, that kind of hurt my feelings."

- knows you wouldn't hurt him on purpose but is still upset ofc

- cuddles will make up for it, i promise

"babe, don't you think your hair is getting a bit long?" you ask, fingers running through sero's hair as he nuzzles his face deeper into the crook of your neck. "nuh uh, i've been wanting to grow it out," he answers arms tightening around your waist. "i thought you liked my hair long? i think it looks good" "i liked your shorter hair though." you mumble fingers twirling a strand of hair. "oh." "mhm" "so you don't think i look good with long hair? that hurt's my feelings y/n." he mutters, removing himself from your grasp, "no-" "really? i thought it looked really good." he frowns at you "no sero, baby, i think it looks good too! i thought you preferred your hair short though, so i always liked it too."

"but you think my long hair looks bad?" he crosses his arms, "not at all, i think you look handsome." now your frown deepens, "i didn't mean it like you look bad with long hair, i just said i liked your snort hair. you look good either way!" you sit up to face him, "sero, honestly i think you look good with your hair like it is, even if you had oh i dunno... a bowl cut, you'd still look hot." you nod, he chuckles and raises his eye brow, "oh really? so if i give myself a bowl cut right now you'd be all over me telling me how beautiful i am?" "of course i would." he sighs and nods, "i'm sorry for misinterpreting your words." he leans his forhead against yours, "no, i should've been more clear, i didn't mean to make you self conscious." you lean in to kiss him, "i'm not getting a bowl cut by the way." "that's fine with me, i like your hair how it is."

< reblogs appreciated >

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Omertà👄18

Warnings: noncon sexual acts and rap, fingering, blow job, blood, violence, death, some elements may be untagged.

This is dark!Bucky and dark! Loki and explicit (with sides of dark!Steve and dark!Thor). Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your father was a bookie and taught you everything you know about numbers. After his death, you were taken on as a bookkeeper for Loki Laufeyson, resident crime boss in Manhattan. But can you keep your place in the background when a man from Brooklyn threatens to drag you to the forefront?

Note: Did I write another ending? You’re damn right. Enjoy another finale as I try to decide what I’m doing next because I dunno...

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

masterlist

The red dress slid up on your thigh as you crossed your legs. You tapped your bottom lip with your fingertips. The radio buzzed with some British punk group you’d never heard of as Thor gripped the wheel and reclined. You sensed his quick peek over at you and looked back from the corner of your eye.

You were anxious even if you were confident. You had no idea what Bucky had planned but you knew that this trip wouldn’t go as smooth as expected. You sighed and leaned back as you dropped your arm and uncrossed your legs. You had to get Thor off-guard, it was simple enough to distract him.

You let your hand trail along your thigh and took a deep breath so your chest rose. Your hem slipped up even further and you closed your eyes. He hummed and you tried not to grin. You knew he was fighting to watch the road and not you. The moment you appeared in the short red number and matching lipstick, he was on the hook.

“Long ride,” he said coyly, “it’ll be nice to get away, eh?”

“From those two? Any day,” you answered as you opened your eyes, “I’ve just been so…” you let your fingers dangle down between your thighs and quickly retracted it as if it wasn’t at all deliberate, “tense.”

“My brother can be a handful and that American,” he said, “I can see how you’d be so worked up.”

You squirmed and pushed your knees further apart. His hand suddenly clapped down on your thigh and he squeezed. He glanced in the rearview and you bit your lip. You rested your hand on his and felt his fingers go rigid. 

“Loki--

“He doesn’t know about before, he won’t know now,” Thor growled as he kneaded your leg.

“I don’t know…” you let your voice trail off, “he’s already so mad at me--”

“I won’t say a word,” he purred.

You swallowed and watched your own fingers. You had to do it. It would dull his defenses. You urged his hand up your skirt and pushed your pelvis forward on the seat. He barely kept the car steady as he felt your bare cunt.

“Oh, honey, you want it badly, don’t you?” he pushed between your folds without hesitation, “no panties…”

“Habit. Your brother demands it,” you rasped as he rubbed your clit. You couldn’t help but quiver.

He was quiet as he kept his fingers moving and listened to your shuddering breaths. You played them up with moans and groans as you arch your back and gripped the door.

“If you prefer me, I could…” his fingertips slickened as they explored further and he prodded along your entrance, “I could take you away. You’ll be far enough before he even knows.”

“Oh…” you gasped, “but… why would you… do that?”

“Look at you, honey,” he taunted, “that cunt--” he shoved a finger into you as he leaned awkwardly over the space between your seats, straining to keep his gaze on the road, “I can’t even fault my brother for his distraction.”

“God,” you squeezed his hand between your thighs as he pushed another finger into you.

It became less of an act as you latched onto his wrist and rocked your hips. His thick digits filled you and curled as the tide rolled through you. You were close to cumming, all the better as he had to buy into your desperation.

“You’ll really take me away?” you whined, “really? I have no other way out but-- you.”

“If you fuck me like you fuck my hand, I’ll keep you forever, honey,” he snarled.

You exclaimed and covered his hand with yours as you tilted against him hungrily. You dug your heels into the floor and lifted your pelvis slightly as you came against his palm. He snickered at your delight and let you ride his hand until you finished.

You fell back limp and he reluctantly removed his hand from your cunt. He reached blindly up and pressed his fingers against your lips. You braced yourself and took in his fingers and sucked your taste off of them. He drew away and sat back in his seat as he rubbed the front of his pants.

“Did you mean it?” you asked as you felt between your legs.

“Fuck my brother. We’ll leave right now,” he said, “I always did like his toys better.”

“We should stop by the shop,” you murmured, “I know where he keeps his stash.”

“His stash?”

“You could have everything that’s his,” you whispered, “everything.”

He considered the suggestion and exhaled. His squinted through the windshield and groaned.

“When we get to the shop, I want you on that desk,” he said as he continued to play with himself, “can’t wait to fuck you in that little dress.”

“I can’t either,” you reached to his lap and he caught your hand.

“No,” he said, “I want to see it all.”

You retracted your arm and pouted. You hugged yourself and shivered dramatically. He glanced over at you again.

“That day in the office, I haven’t stopped thinking of it,” he said, “I can see you’ve suffered just as much as me.”

Your smirk was interrupted by the sudden veering of the car at the impact of another. You cried out as the rubber screeched over the road. The car skidded over the lanes and turned horizontal with the rest of traffic. Another bump on the tail and you were rolling. The airbag deployed and blinded you as the glass and metal crunched past the railing and into the ditch.

You panted in shock as the vehicle stilled at last and you felt along your face and body. There was blood dripping from your hairline and some aches in your neck and back, but you could move and you were alive. You put your palm against the roof and unbuckled the belt and kept from falling on your head. The welts of the restraints burned at your chest and waist.

You squatted and looked over at Thor. He hung from his seat but there was much more blood on him and his blond hair was stained with it. You crawled out through the window and fell into the dirt.

You heard footsteps as they carefully descended the incline and you looked up as a silhouette neared and came clearer. Steve approached the other side of the car and bent to look in the driver side. You heard his voice as he poked the unconscious man inside and he stood again.

“Get up,” he demanded as he came to you, “no time to waste.”

“What?” you let him pull you to your feet, “you were supposed to be at the shop--”

“We’ll get there,” he dragged you up to the rail and stepped over.

You struggled to get over the metal barrier yourself and he nearly had you off your feet as he thrust you towards his waiting car. He opened the passenger door and pointed you inside. You dropped into the seat and touched your sore neck. He closed the door and rounded to his side.

“What’s going on? Bucky said--”

“Bucky wants to make sure you’re not fucking with him,” Steve interrupted and his eyes fell to your skirt. You barely realised how high it was as you were still spinning from the crash.

“You could’ve killed me--”

“You’re a smart girl. You had your seatbelt on,” he said as he bent between the seats and fixed your dress, his fingers lingering on the fabric, “we’ve got a whole day… we get the money and have some fun while Bucky takes care of that other moron.”

“Money?” you asked.

“You’re his little bookkeeper, I’m sure you have the combination to that safe he keeps nestled in the back of the shithole,” he turned the engine and pulled out from the gravel, “a healthy price for your… defection.”

“Fine,” you said coolly, “I’ll help you get it. But what about Lopez?”

“I’ll take care of that fat fuck but that’s another debt,” he replied.

You were quiet as you rubbed your shoulder and tried to clear your head. You were slightly dizzy but fought through it as you tried to redirect your plot. There was still a way out of this. You just had to deal with this idiot instead.

“That day in the club… Fucking Buck, he can be so selfish but I think I’ve waited long enough,” he hissed, “you don’t even know what you haven’t had, sweetheart.”

You looked at him and he met your eyes briefly. You fought not to show your disgust and just batted your lashes.

“Do we have to wait?” you asked as you shook off the cobwebs.

“Hmm--” his voice caught in his throat as you stretched between your seats and touched the front of his pants, “oh.”

He squeezed the steering wheel as you leaned over and rubbed his crotch until you felt it harden. “We’re not far,” you said and held in a grunt as a pang stabbed your neck, it wasn’t as intense as before, “but we have time.”

“Sweet--”

“This is what you wanted… Bucky won’t like it--”

“He won’t know,” Steve interjected, “shit, I can’t--”

You unzipped his pants and he went silent. You slipped your hand down his boxers and pulled out his dick. You stroked him as the noise of the traffic flowed around the car. You held him firmly and moved your hand. It would end soon enough.

He groaned and tensed as you worked him steadily. You’d learned to read men, to use them. They did the same to you but they taught you just as much. The only way out was their own tricks. As you sensed him nearing his release, you placed your lips around his tip and swirled your tongue.

He gasped and his foot pushed down the pedal. You moaned around him and moved your hand faster and faster. It sickened you but you had to commit. You couldn’t let him see through the cracks.

He came in a hot spurt and you struggled to swallow it down without gagging. You sank until he poked at your throat and drank him in. His legs shook and he swore as you lapped up the last of his cum and pulled off of him with a pop.

You sat up, dizzier than before and wiped your lips. He shifted in his seat and brought one hand away from the wheel to zip himself back up. He sniffed and rolled his shoulders.

“That was fuckin’ good,” he said, “I see why Bucky didn’t give up.”

“You know what he’ll do if he finds out,” you said sharply.

“Oh, you can keep me quiet, sweetie,” he said with a crooked grin, “just like that.”

You closed your eyes and collected yourself as he took the ramp and you readied yourself for what came next. You didn’t know if you could do it, if it would work at all. You’d come this far though and couldn’t turn back. If you failed, with all that happened, it would only be worse than before. So you couldn’t.

You watched the streets of New York and as you got closer to the antique shop, you had to keep your hands from shaking. The adrenaline buzzed inside of you. Your mouth was dry and your limbs felt numb. You peered over at Steve as he pulled up to the curb and he looked over at the façade.

“Stay behind me,” he winked as he reached to his belt and unholstered his gun, “I got Lopez. You head for the safe.”

He got out and you did the same. You circled the car as he headed for the front door with his gun low against his thigh. He grabbed the handle and pulled. He raised his hand before he entered and you stayed back as the gunshot echoed from inside. You felt a twinge in your chest; you liked Lopez but he was one of them.

You followed and let the door fall closed behind you. Steve laughed to himself and nodded you ahead of him. You went silent, past the chipped statue and that old grandfather clock.

The office was stolid and still. It brought back a sense of nostalgia and yet felt like a prison. Steve entered behind you as he tucked his gun away.

“Better hurry,” he muttered, “too bad I made so much noise or we could stick around… maybe you could finish what you started.”

“We’ll go somewhere else,” you shrugged as you looked around and went behind Loki’s desk. 

You pulled out the drawers and pretended to search. Really you were wasting time, trying to put Steve off alert. He watched and crossed his arms.

“What are you doing?” he grumbled.

“Just making sure we’re not missing anything,” you slid shut the drawer, “whatever, nothing there.”

You went to the cabinet and rolled over your office chair. Steve sat in Loki’s cushioned leather seat and leaned back as you opened the cabinet and bent behind the door and began to wind the numbers. He put his feet up and tossed around a glass orb that usually sat on Loki’s desk.

You turned the handle and the loud metal clank filled the office. You reached inside and pulled out a money bag and loaded it up with the stacks of bills within. You zipped it up and tossed it over the door and it landed on the desk heavily.

Steve sat up as he smiled at the thick pouch. You shoved your arm back in the safe and pulled out the gun on the higher shelf, stowed with the priceless Victorian pocket watch and a pair of diamond cufflinks. 

You stood as Steve took the bag  and sat straight. His face paled with surprise as you pulled the trigger and the bullet opened his chest. The chair wobbled under him as he dropped the money and gave a brittle croak. 

His hand went to the wound across his front and you kicked shut the safe. You swept around and bent to pick up the money bag. Steve trembled as the blood pulsed from him and the chair creaked.

“Pity,” you said with a smile, “looks like you did miss something.”

You angled the gun and admired it as you hugged the cloth pouch under your arm. You shrugged and left him to his death thralls. You went out into the front room and stopped at the rack of gauche vintage coats. You pulled one on and hid the gun in the inner pocket as you secreted the money in the sleeve.

You exited and stepped out onto the sidewalk. You blotted away the dried blood along your forehead as your heels clicked and you blended into the steady New York foot traffic. You were done running from behind. You would be out of the city before anyone thought to look for you and with the bulk of Loki’s savings you would always be a step ahead.

👄👄👄

End

[jilytoberfest]

Author - @gryffindormischief

Thank you so much for taking the time to do this! You can find her on ao3 and ffnet!

1. What would you say is your interesting writing quirk?

Dunno if this is a quirk or interesting, but I very rarely write a fic without food coming into it somewhere. Maybe it’s because I’m always a little hungry or maybe I can’t think of anything else for people to do. Hopefully I haven’t spoiled the magic.

2. What was one of the most surprising things you learned in creating your stories?

Honestly, that I can write creatively. Not sure if that’s what this question means, but I was really surprised to find I actually enjoy writing fiction and fluff at that! I spent a lot of years (all the way through college) thinking I was only an academic/non-fiction writer. So give it a shot! I am so glad I did.

3. Do you have any suggestions to help others become a better writer? If so, what are they?

I think reading other people’s work - fanfic and books and short stories and poems all help me learn new things about writing. I’ll see a stylistic thing that I find interesting, or it’ll spark an idea for something else, or sometimes just get me out of my own head. Also sometimes I feel like I break through a block or get to a new better version of a story by just writing out all my ideas and not critiquing before it gets out of my head. So just drop all the words in a document and maybe it’s inconsistent or not all the ideas are compatible, but eventually something connects and then another something and then you throw out the rest.

4. What do you think makes a good story?

My favorite stories have some small kernel of relatability. I had a teacher who called it a “universal truth” where there’s some nugget of stuff that anyone can find a connection with. I don’t know how to explain it beyond that...

5. What is the first book that made you cry?

HM Have I ever cried at a book?? UM. I think I cried when I read Little Women. Maybe. I am not a big crier, my feelings are secrets,

6. Does writing energize or exhaust you?

Depends! If I am trying to push through (struggling to write) then it’s exhausting. If I feel super inspired and that’s why I’m writing, then energy!

7. Have you ever gotten reader’s block? If so, what are your tips to overcome it?

YES! And much as part of me hates it and wants to be like NO finish the book all books must be finished before starting more sometimes I just have to popcorn around to different books until one triggers that need to binge read it in a day. I’ll hop back and forth through genres and whatnot until something gets me going.

8. Do you think someone could be a writer if they don’t feel emotions strongly?

If I count as a writer then yes. I think feeling emotions has a lot of weird assumptions/stereotypes that end up getting interpreted as you have to feel them a certain way to certain results to be truly feeling them. But I am a more stoic person, I don’t cry much, and I tend to be a bit “logical” about feelings but I have learned (and am still learning) that there’s no right way to feel things or have emotions. You show sympathy or mourn or be happy or whatever the way you feel it.​ And with writing, if you can empathize and imagine how someone different might fit into a scenario then you can write. And that’s not a some can some can’t thing. I’m always growing in that and honestly exploring that through writing has helped me grow as a person too.

9. If you could tell your younger writing self anything, what would it be?

Don’t be afraid of fiction! Do it!

10. What was your hardest scene to write?

There were a few scenes in hiraeth that gave me some trouble. That fic was odd because I’d get a great flow going while I wrote and then suddenly it would just vanish.

11. What is your favorite childhood book?

I read the Little House on the Prairie books about a billion times.

12. How long on average does it take you to write a one shot or a chapter of a fic?

That is a difficult one to answer. I honestly don’t really know!

13. A fic that inspires you?

HM. I love Homerun by fightfortherightsofhouseelves because it captures the playfulness of Harry and Ginny but also how attracted they are to each other...I go back to it to get re-inspired for canon Hinny. And The Yeast I Can Do by elanev91 is always really special to me (and as a result inspirational) because when elanev91 posted that it was like they peered into my soul and decided to write a fic about it so I would stop feeling so bummed about life.

14. How do you edit your work?

POORLY. I kid but also...iIf it’s something like a little drabble or one shot that came out of nowhere, I honestly do not edit much. If it’s a mutlichapter or a one shot that’s long & a little more involved I’ll write with no going back for edits. Then I let it rest and don’t look at it for a little bit (usually overnight). Then I go back and I read through it slowly and pretend I’m reading someone else’s writing and look for grammar. Then I go through again and see if there’s anything inconsistent, or things that feel missing. One of my weaknesses is sometimes I take for granted certain things that are in my head and think “oh everyone gets this” but maybe I haven’t really put it on the page.

15. Where does inspiration come from?

For me? A lot of places. Sometimes it’s another piece of fiction. Sometimes it’s a song. Sometimes it’s something someone says in real life that my brain goes “but what if…” and then I dream up this new scenario.

16. Who has been helpful for you as you write for the fandom?

@fightfortherightsofhouseelves and @petalstofish are just the most encouraging friendly welcoming supportive friends who will talk to me about everything including but not limited to fandom and fic and ideas and ugh they’re just the best, I can’t believe how long we’ve been friends. Also I will occasionally loop my sister in on a fic I’m really messed up on hehe. Honestly there are so many kind warm people in the hinny and jily fandoms that help me just by sharing their thoughts or comments or their own fics! That’s the inspiration!!

17. What is your fav POV to write from?

Not first person!! Probably 3rd person sorta omniscient comes easiest to me.

18. What is a fic you would love to write but are worried you won’t be able to accomplish it/nervous it wouldn’t work out?

Historical spies with Jily. I am petrified of this one.

19. Do you ever self insert in fics?

Only to the extent that sometimes I’ll live out a situation and then think that it would’ve been a cute fic idea. So I’ll take something I said or thought but then reimagine what Harry would’ve done or Lily or whoever I think fits it.

20. What is the story you are proudest of?

I think the statue james fics just because those are some of the ones that feel the most like I made them from scratch...if that makes sense.

21. Do you prefer writing canon jily or muggle au?

OH I think I write Jily muggle AU most...so I must prefer it. I don’t think I’d ever want only one or the other.

Thank you!

[alinastracker]

If you’re still doing the prompts I have oneeeee hehe

" i mean... i-i'm cool with sharing the bed if you are. "

you got it baby 🥰

but i know something’s starting right now

It’s a sweltering Ravkan summer day, but nothing brings heat to her body like watching Mal in the pool, water droplets racing down his chest. His shaggy hair is a mop on his head, and she realizes this is what he must look like in the shower.

This is exactly why she didn’t want to bring him on the trip.

It’s the first week of July, and for the past three years, that’s meant a trip to the Os Alta Resort with Genya and Zoya. It’s a way for them to relax after exams and catch up now that they all attend different schools. But at the end of May, the two of them had FaceTimed her about a change for this year.  

“We were thinking of taking the boys with,” Genya says gently, nervous for her reaction.

Zoya is frank as ever. “It’s cheaper that way. Besides, after all this long distance, I could use a week of uninterrupted fuc—”

“Zoya!”

“Relax, Starkov. We’re all adults here.”

“Anyway,” Genya cuts in. “We’re just telling you in case you wanted to bring someone, too. Maybe Mal?”

“Mal and I aren’t dating.”

Only in her dreams.

“Might as well be,” Zoya mutters.

So in the choice between bringing Mal on what has basically turned into a couple’s retreat and going to said couple’s retreat alone, she’s chosen the former. It would be fine. Mal knows her friends. Him and Nikolai like to talk sports. Maybe it’ll be a little weird, being the only non-couple, but they could deal.

It would have been fine, if it weren’t for this morning’s check in.

"So it looks like we have you booked for three single rooms," the concierge says.

Alina frowns. "One of those should be a double."

The concierge checks again, each click of his mouse making her anxiety rise. He frowns. "Sorry, miss. It's showing me all singles."

"It's fine," Mal says. "Could we just upgrade it to a double, then?"

"Er, I'm afraid we're all booked, sir."

Nikolai claps his hands together, cheerful as ever at Zoya's side. "Well, I'll just switch with Alina, and Mal and I can — shit, Zoy!"

Zoya had stomped on his foot.

"We are not switching shit," she hisses under her breath.

Nikolai sighs. "My deadly dearest, certainly it's no big deal—"

"I bought us a new toy for this trip. We are not switching."

There is a brief moment where everyone freezes, then Genya groans, shaking her head as she murmurs apologies to the concierge, who is trying hard to pretend he hasn’t heard a thing. The tips of Mal's ears go red, and Alina is sure hers match. David, lost in his audiobook, is oblivious to all of it.

Nikolai clears his throat and turns to the two of them with a sheepish grin. "Sorry, mate. You're on your own."

The concierge slowly raises a finger and says, "We might be able to supply a cot?"

Alina can feel everyone's eyes on her, which is the last thing she ever wants. She has the strong desire to curl in on herself, but that only really works in the winter when she dons large coats and sweaters. But it’s summer, and she is in only a mustard yellow crop top and jean shorts, though she suddenly feels as exposed as if she were completely naked.

Mal takes one look at her and gently nudges his foot against hers. "I mean . . . I'm cool with sharing the bed if you are?"

Her brain is looking for anyway out of this whole conversation, so she nods.

So far, they have been in their room once to drop off their things and change into bathing suits, both of them dancing around the bed without ever touching it. The air in the room feels charged even with sunlight still pouring in. What would tonight be like?

More importantly, how was she supposed to handle sleeping beside him when she can’t even handle watching him in the pool?

Genya climbs on Mal’s shoulders for a game of chicken — David is, unsurprisingly, not in the pool, but sitting beside Alina on a lounge chair. She feels a pang of something like jealousy as she watches the game commence, which cannot be more ridiculous.

They can’t avoid the night forever, and it comes much too quickly despite how long they spend mingling at the resort bar. In their room, Mal lets Alina use the bathroom first. A kind offer, she thinks, until she realizes it leaves her to stake out a spot on the bed first. No more dancing.

Left side or right? Does Mal have a preference? Does she? How long until Mal finishes in the bathroom and comes out to see her staring at the bed like a mental person?

Right side, she chooses finally. She curls up on the left side of her body usually, so this way, she doesn’t have to face him as they sleep. Good call. As she untucks the covers from the bed, she secretly hopes to find something horrifying, like blood or bugs, so they can get a refund and leave. Sadly, it is a perfectly fine bed. Alina plops onto it and tucks herself in.

Mal finishes in the bathroom a few minutes later, and if he’s as rattled about their sleeping arrangement as she is, he does not show it. There’s plenty of space between them as he settles into bed. Maybe this won’t be as bad as she feared.

“Well, goodnight,” Mal says through a yawn.

“Goodnight,” Alina replies.

They each turn off their bedside lamps. Mal is softly snoring soon after, but Alina stays awake much too long for her liking, thinking of how close he is.

They fall into a similar routine for the next couple nights. During the day, all is fine. Their little group meshes well. Genya and Nikolai are often off together, both of them on a mission, it seems, to try every flavor of ice cream from Os Alta's ice cream bar. Or sometimes it’s Nikolai and Mal running off, joining a game of pool volleyball, both of them stupidly competitive. When Zoya gets annoyed with the overload of children at the waterpark, she joins David on one of the lounge chairs to read for a while — Zoya a smutty historical romance and David a nonfiction on modern space travel. We just shouldn't let Jeff Bezos come back, he argues to Genya later, while Zoya murmurs to Nikolai something she wants him to do to her that night.

Alina thanks the saints her room isn’t next to Zoya’s.

The trip is going so smoothly that she doesn’t realize what trouble Sunday brings with it. It’s always their favorite part of the trip: bottomless margarita night. They all have absolutely horrific, hilarious pictures and videos of themselves from the past three years thanks to bottomless margarita night at Os Alta. But the thought of being drunk like that while she’s sharing a bed with Mal?

Okay, so she just won’t drink tonight. Problem solved.

“You can’t not drink!” Zoya says, personally offended.

“Come on, it’s tradition!” Genya agrees.

But she’s determined to hold out. Only when she sees the others with their drinks, she decides one sip won’t hurt. One sip becomes one drink, and one drink becomes a couple. Soon enough, she’s drunk enough to sign herself up for karaoke, another Os Alta tradition.

“I dunno what I should siiiing,” she slurs, swaying lightly on her feet.

“I have the perfect song for you!” Genya cheers excitedly.

So that’s how she ends up on stage, drunk off her ass, horridly singing Taylor Swift’s We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together. She really gets into it, jumping and nailing the talking parts a little too well. But she can hear Genya and Zoya screaming the lyrics along with her, and it only encourages her.

Genya records a Snapchat of her performance, snickering to Mal and David about how she’s going to accidentally send it to the asshole Alina dated last year who’s still entirely too obsessed with her.

Nikolai is the only one of the boys drunk enough to sign up, taking the stage after Alina to perform a disgustingly off-key version of Queen’s Don’t Stop Me Now. They all agree that Freddie Mercury is rolling in his grave.

By the end of the night, the four of them are totally wasted. David, who had spent the night nursing one drink, his focus on getting Genya her drinks and ensuring that she didn’t trip over herself, has to help the aforementioned redhead up to their room. Nikolai and Zoya are a sight, both wickedly drunk, trying to help each other stay upright. Mal had only downed a couple drinks and is mostly sober, which Alina is very thankful for, as she can’t hold herself up to save her life. She nearly trips on absolutely nothing so many times that Mal finally scoops her into his arms, carrying her the rest of the way to the room. Alina giggles the whole way. 

There’s no getting ready for bed that night. Mal sets her on the bed, and she resigns to sleeping in her red summer dress. When Mal joins her after having a shower, drunk Alina has no qualms curling up against him and sniffing him.

“Mm, you smell good,” she hums.

Mal chuckles even as he tenses. Alina has her arm around him and her face pressed into his side. He’s not sure he can breathe. She’s too drunk to notice the blush on his face.

“That’s probably just because you smell like alcohol,” he hedges.

Alina giggles and shakes her head. “No, you always smell good.”

He doesn’t know what to do with this information, but he does a lot of thinking instead of sleeping as Alina passes out next to him.

Monday morning brings with it a pounding headache for Alina. She prepares for the bright sunlight streaming through the window, but the room is dark when she opens her eyes. Mal isn’t beside her, but he left aspirin and a glass of water on the nightstand in addition to pulling out the blackout curtains. She falls in love with him a little bit more. 

The day is a quiet one. The girls and Nikolai spend their time at the spa, Mal and David off doing saints know what. She gets the best massage of her life, and while her head still aches despite the pain pill, seeing Nikolai get his toenails painted bright red makes every sip she had last night worth it.

When they’re in the room again after dinner, tucking themselves into bed, Mal says, “You told me I smell good last night.”

Alina pauses. “I did?”

The night comes back to her. She totally told him he smelled good, and she had closed the space between them on the bed, curling up right next to him. She remembers all of it, suddenly and painfully.

“Oh, saints. Mal, I’m so sorry. I didn’t . . . I shouldn’t have—”

He cuts her off. “It’s okay, ‘Lina. You don’t have to apologize.”

“I don’t?”

Mal smiles an amused smile and leans over, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “No, you don’t. Not you. Never you.”

Alina is almost positive she can hear her heart pounding as Mal reaches for something tucked in the drawer of his nightstand.

“For you,” he says, handing her a long rectangular box. “Saw it today when I was out with David and I just— I thought of you.”

She can’t even process the image of Mal and David out shopping together, needing to open this damn box. With shaky fingers, she lifts the lid. Waiting for her inside is a dainty necklace with a gorgeous gold sun charm.

“Oh,” she says softly.

Mal blushes, and this time, Alina notices. “Do you like it?” he asks. “I just thought of you singing last night when I saw it. You’re so bright, Alina. All the time. Just like the sun.”

She has no idea what this confession means, or how she earned it from drunkenly telling him how good he smells — which his really quite good — but her heart has kicked into overdrive. She isn’t sure what, or how, but she knows something’s starting right now.

“I love it, Mal.” She turns so her back is facing him and hands over the necklace. “Will you help me put it on?”

He wraps the chain around her neck. The sun rests perfectly against her heart. She notices every little brush of his fingers against the back of her neck as Mal works the clasp.

When the necklace is secure, they both lay back down, noticeably closer this time. Not as close as last night, but close enough that their arms occasionally brush, close enough that she’ll end up kicking him during the night. Alina sleeps on her right side. 

Their trip might be ending tomorrow, but something better was beginning tonight.

[1littleshippergirl1]

A review for 2021!

I found these questions to answer. I figured It would be fun: 

- How many works do you have on ao3? 

92

- What’s your total ao3 word count? 

728406

- How many fandoms have you written for? 

7

- Top 5 fics by kudos? 

1) Hope Springs Eternal (This surprised me. I really didn’t think this would be so popular, especially since it’s about Percy and it’s focused on friendship)

2) Invisible bruises 

3) One Big Happy Family 

4) In Which Lucy Despises Sundays 

5) If Loving You Is Wrong 

-Do you respond to comments? Why/why not? 

Depends. I usually don’t b/c I’m pretty shy so I’ll typically just address the question(s) in the next a/n 

Plus, I don’t like how it’ll count my comments with the others 9like if I responded to all my comments on Hope Springs Eternal it would say I had over 300) 

- A fic you've written with the angstiest ending? 

I don’t know if it really counts as “angstiest” but I guess my fic where Percy dies at the battle is like that 

- Do you write crossovers? 

Typically no, but I have written a couple between Home Improvement and Harry Potter

- Ever received hate on a fic? 

yes lol 

one was for one of the Hermione/percy fics I’ve done (because their age gap is “disgusting”) 

Another was for Hope Springs Eternal b/c the person wanted me to make them a couple and said it as homophobic and all 

- Do you write smut? 

n o 

- Have you ever had a fic stolen? 

don’t think so 

- Ever had a fic translated? 

On my other account, the one for slash, yes. I’ve had a few requests 

- Have you ever co-written a fic? 

No 

- All time favorite ship? 

Harry/Percy and Harry/Tom

- WIP you want to finish but don’t think you ever will? 

I wrote a first chapter for the sequel to the first long fic I ever wrote and I dunno, that was when my Colin Creevey was my fav character and he’s not anymore so I kinda lost the spark for that one 

- Writing strengths? 

I guess it’s writing out emotions and what the character is feeling and all. I mean (and I’ve said this on Hope Springs Eternal)  I don’t have depression and yet i had someone complimenting on writing it out realistically. Didn’t expect that 

- Writing weakness? 

 Describing settings!!

- First fandom you ever wrote for? 

Holes (Disney movie) 

- What’s your Fav fic you’ve written so far? 

gosh I don’t know 

long fic:  Hope Springs Eternal but also (and this isn’t Harry Potter) Hope Within the Darkness

short fic: No one's better and something odd

///

My confidence has really improved when it comes to my writing. I always compared myself to others because I didn't think my words fancy enough or I didn't do this and that right

So I couldn't believe how people were complimenting me

You guys are so sweet 💗

Thank you everyone for reading my fics this year and saying such nice things! I hope you guys enjoy my fics in this coming year as well!

[k-sci-janitor]

So I finished DCWT last night and while I know this fic is quote unquote famous and also rightly contentious, I still had some thoughts on it that I wanted to spew out long form style on here, SO-

To be clear, this was a fic I avoided for a LONG TIME

You know when people hype up a thing as like, the pinnacle of whatever? And if you haven’t read it, you’re not a real fan? Yeah well, that was the vibe I got with this dumb fic for a long time while absolutely no one told me that, it was just my dumb brain being judgmental to myself really, lol. Anyway why would I wanna read a fic that famously doesn’t have any tags? I mean, who does that?? Anyway-

So what changed your mind?

Well I watched this wonderful video (everyone, GO WATCH THIS VIDEO) and even tho the creator simultaneously hyped and un-hyped DCWT, it got me intrigued and a little cautious about finally just giving it go. It had literally been sitting on my kindle for months and I just finally decided to see what it was I was missing.

So you got past that opening, huh?

MY GOD. My biggest initial hurtle getting thru this damn thing was just the opening. It was verbose. It didn’t make much sense. It didn’t even seem like this author and I had watched the same movie. Everything about it was off putting and strange and I must’ve picked it up and put it down like 10 times. Don’t do this. I’ve only written a little bit personally but the fastest way I chuck a book/fic/whatever away from me is a terrible opening or like, an opening so fucking confusing that it’s unclear that it’ll get better from here.

So it got better from there?

Okay yes, it did, thank goodness. At a certain point it became more clear and I realized the fic had started with a wildly confusing intro to show, you know, how m e s s e d up they were post-drift, cognitively, emotionally, etc. The story eventually started to speed up and I got engaged with the action and finally I couldn’t put it down. It took a while tho!! But I also HAD to put it down at some points.

Oh, why?

So, remember when I said there was no tags and everything I had gathered about this fic was secondhand knowledge? I didn’t really know how in depth the fic was going to describe disassociation and panic attacks. I don’t mind mentions of these things in other fics I've read but DCWT really delves into them in a way that made me, someone prone to panic attacks, really uncomfortable. It basically just hit a little too close to home for me and I occasionally had to put it down so I could breathe or find myself in a different headspace to be able to read these descriptions. This could easily affect someone else pretty harshly.

And like, I know these descriptions are fictional, they're not going to hurt me but they read real enough to me and they’re happening to a character I care a lot about and it was genuinely distressing to read. I also generally don’t read angsty fics because like I said, I don’t really like thinking deeply about Newt or Hermann having something overtly terrible to their bodies (sorry Kaiju!Newt fans, I get eeked out!!). Sometimes I can handle it if it’s abstract enough but sometimes I can’t. I especially find it hard if it's crouched in something I have personal experience with (the panic attacks, sigh). Tags, people, YOU USE THEM.

So did you even like this fic??? SPOILERS BELOW 👇👇👇

Omg so I actually did. Newt and Hermann’s characterizations were really good. Newt was quite possibly the world’s biggest asshole while I wanted nothing more than to give this Hermann a really big hug. Since this fic is so long, it gets a chance to really hone in on their dynamic and how they care for each other. They literally call each other their "life partners" before they examine if they're actually dating or not. I really enjoyed that a reader could interpret their relationship as ace, it totally works. And I still got my big damn kiss! Jokes that have been building up for like 100k words have an amazing pay off and was super funny to read. Also somehow NO ONE told me about the AI self-driving cars and were my surprise favorite characters. Mako's characterization was also some of the best things I've read about her and I loved her and Newt's relationship a lot.

So it was fine in the end?? MORE SPOILERS 👇👇👇

Well, no, I think I'm just sensitive to the idea that Newt's mind is tearing itself apart due to the kaiju, due to Hermann occasionally taking over, due to his own dumb hang-ups. It's a melancholy read is where I would place it. Their dynamic is difficult and real in it's terror of what's happened to them. A BIG SURPRISE for me was Newt's third drift and the fact the PPDC may or may not have coerced him to do it while he was on anti-seizure drugs?? IT'S REALLY UPSETTING. I don’t like the immediate alienation from the PPDC, I mean, I also don’t like the military but the idea that they would whisk Newt away like that is weird and I dunno. It’s fucked, whatever.

It was just a weird, hard read for me emotionally and I don’t blame anyone who decides to just put it down. And it has SUCH good stuff hidden in there (the AI cars, Hermann buying a Porsche on a whim and being a scary driver, that fucking hair stroking thing) but it’s a roller coaster and I honestly don’t know what to make of a fic that has it’s own PR person to hype it up, lmao.

So what do you recommend?

Approach cautiously! I’ll even make a short list of tags here: Descriptions of epilepsy, seizures, nosebleeds, disassociation, panic attacks, eye damage, hand surgery, Drinking and depictions of drunkenness, underage drinking mentions, implied drugging, descriptions of imagined head surgery, suicidal thoughts.

And hey, you might be a tough guy who reads fucked up fics all the time and I just sound like a wimp here, that’s fine!! I just felt complicated about this fic (liking and hating it, ugh) and wanted to get down what I thought about it while it was fresh. And like, y’all know me, I like cute, fluffy shit where they kiss for the first time or whatever. But I occasionally will dip into scarier stuff. I just don’t know if this is everyone’s cup of tea and wanted to elaborate. 😮‍💨