#edit: it turns out the way to 'make it stop without blocking people' it just to politely ask them to add a tag to something

[a-lonely-dunedain]

.

[standfucker]

Finding Out You’re Stronger Than Them - Logia Edition (Smoker + Ace)

Feeling very stuck with my WIPS lately, so I decided to try my hand at a bullet-point style drabble. Ace’s and Smoker’s went fine, but Crocodile’s and Kuzan’s immediately grew into something too big for a bullet point list and will be posted separately, if I can get them to a point I’m happy with. Have these two for now.

CW: Just a little bit of violence

Ao3 Link

Smoker

You’ve been rising quickly through the ranks. Smoker’s heard that you’re strong, but by the time you get assigned to him, he has yet to see it for himself.

You’ve followed all of his orders thus far, and past reports on your behavior are generally positive, so when you block him from chasing a pirate one day, he’s taken by surprise.

“This one’s innocent. I saw it for myself. He’s trying to support the village.” You get into stance, eyes blazing with defiance, fully ready to take on your captain.

“It doesn’t make a difference,” Smoker says. “He’s still a pirate.”

“He only stole from nobles. People who wouldn’t miss the wealth. It makes every difference.”

“Get out of the way.”

“No.”

He turns into smoke to go around you, but you grab at where his ankle would be, your haki forcing his body back into shape, and swing him into the ground with such force that stars dot his vision as the wind is knocked out of him.

No one told him you could use armament haki.

“I’m stronger than you. Don’t get a big head because you’re my superior. I’ll surpass you soon.”

“I could have you court-martialed for this,” he gasps.

“Then do it. See if I care. That person was innocent–I know I did the right thing. I don’t give a shit about your opinion,” you pause, then add, “Captain.”

You crouch next to him as he struggles to sit up, still dizzy from the brutal impact. Picking up his cigars that have fallen, you dust them off before sticking one back in his mouth and putting the other in yours. You take an experimental puff, wrinkle your nose at the taste, and deftly twirl the cigar between your fingers. He finds himself staring as you exhale, smoke curling around your profile.

“I requested to be transferred to your unit because Tashigi told me you were different from the others,” you say, and pop the second cigar into his mouth as well. “So don’t disappoint me, Captain.”

The blush on his face is from indignation, or that’s what he tells himself. It’s the audacity. You have some nerve to talk to him that way. To lay your hands on a superior, to obstruct the law.

And yet. He shouldn’t, but a part of him–a big part of him–can’t help but admire your conviction. Enough so that he doesn’t report your insubordination.

It’s always refreshing to find a soldier who thinks for themselves, but it’s also dangerous if you cross the wrong superiors. (God forbid you talk back to someone like Akainu, which Smoker knows you would do without hesitation.) 

Smoker will have to keep an eye on you, to make sure you don’t get into trouble you can’t get out of…

Ace

One day, Ace realizes that in all the months since he’s officially joined the crew, he’s never seen you fight, not even to spar.

When he asks Marco about it, he says, “Oh, that’s because of the collateral damage, yoi.” Ace thinks Marco is joking and laughs. Marco does not.

But can you blame Ace? You’re one of the gentlest pirates in the fleet. You’re the kind of person who stops crewmates from squishing bugs, and who’s so stricken by the dead dogs at the end of your novels that you cry for days afterward (getting to hold you when you seek him out for comfort rules, but why you keep reading those, he does not know.)

After a battle with an enemy crew, one in which you don’t participate, Ace asks some crewmates why you abstained.

“Same reason Pops doesn’t join the small fights,” Haruta says. “Too messy, you know?”

“Wait, just how strong is Y/n?” Ace says, now realizing Marco was being serious earlier.

“Don’t worry about it, Ace,” you say behind him, making him jump. “Just know I’m stronger than you.”

That stings his pride, enough so that he challenges you to a friendly match while crewmates exchange glances.

“Sure, after you’ve rested from this fight. I’d hate to have a handicap.”

“I’m not tired! I can take you right here, right now.”

“Right now?” At Ace’s nod, you shrug. “Well, okay then. Here I go!”

You vanish.

He can’t sense you anywhere. By the time he figures out you’re behind him, it’s too late. One of your hands wraps around the back of his neck, the other on the hem of his pants. When he can’t escape by turning into flames, he knows you’re using haki.

You proceed to slam him face-first into the deck so hard he breaks straight through it, stuck upside down in the wood. The crewmates on the floor below blink up at him.

“You challenged Y/n, didn’t you,” one of them says.

Once his head stops swimming, Ace pulls himself out. His nose is broken and bleeding and he’s covered in scratches and splinters, but he’s looking at you with a newfound sense of awe.

“Logia types,” you shake your head, lip curling, “always so full of themselves.” Then you look stricken. “Oh, I hurt Moby again... Pops will scold me…”

And, look.

Ace knows what he likes. He’s not ashamed to say he found the whole thing extremely hot, but he has the decency to keep it to himself. (Literally the entire crew could tell, but no one tells Ace that either.)

He can’t stop thinking about the fight (if it could even be called that.) He stays awake at night, picturing the way your mouth moved when you said ‘Logia types,’ the little smirk afterward. He had always liked you, but now there’s a newfound aspect to his attraction, and he’s down bad.

Ace wants to know even more about you after that, asking you about your history and how you learned to fight. Luckily, you don’t mind the attention, and your humoring him feeds into his ego until he’s practically following you around in his free time. The rest of the crew takes notice, teasing him about being your shadow–but you never complain, so why should he care?

You've been spending lots of time together since then. He keeps fantasizing about saying “my partner can kick your ass” to people, but he hasn’t actually asked you out yet. It’s unlike him to be so gun-shy, yet every time he works up the nerve to ask, he only gets as far as “Hey, Y/n?” before your sparkly-eyed, saccharine “Yes, Ace?” crumbles his confidence to dust. But he’s Fire-Fist Ace, damn it! He faced Pops alone to save his crew, so why is this so difficult?

If he asks the other Division Commanders for help, expect a Looney Tunes style sequence of each one suggesting a courting method and it failing spectacularly and going up in literal flames, until he finally gets so frustrated with the whole thing he ends up just shouting his confession.

Bonus:

“There, there,” Ace says, patting your back while you cling to him and sob into his shoulder. “It’s just a stupid book.”

That was the wrong thing to say. With your emotions already running high, your misery shifts to rage in an instant.

“YOU JUST DON’T UNDERSTAND THE BOND BETWEEN A KID AND THEIR DOG BECAUSE YOU ATE EVERY ANIMAL YOU ENCOUNTERED GROWING UP!!” you wail, then hiccup, sob, and bury your face into his chest.

Ace wisely decides not to point out the food scarcity of his home island. There are better times, and at least you’re holding him tight...

[nanowrimo]

12 Tips for Drafting Forward During NaNoWriMo (And Beyond!)

To accomplish your big writing goals, you have to focus on drafting forward. The team over at Freewrite knows how to do that better than most! Freewrite, a 2023 NaNoWriMo sponsor, is a dedicated distraction-free drafting device designed just for writers to separate the drafting from the editing process and get words on the page. Today, the Freewrite team is here to share their top 12 tips for doing just that:

Here at Freewrite, we love when NaNoWriMo comes around, because we’re all about helping writers set their stories free. We’re big proponents of the “write now, edit later” method of writing to help writers reach writing flow and increase productivity. The goal of drafting forward (and NaNoWriMo!) is to get a first draft recorded and translate your thoughts into writing on the page.

We’re going to share the top tips we recommend to writers who want to try this method but don’t know where to start. Try these out during your next writing session to see how they help you ditch the distractions and make serious progress!

1. Save research for later. (Or start with it!)

Yes, research is important. But it can also quickly turn into a form of procrastination. Complete the bulk of your research before you start writing, or, if it’s a topic you know well, commit to doing any research after. When you’re drafting and come to a place where you need to fact-check or gather information, simply leave a note to yourself right there in the text and continue drafting. 

2. Plan well.

With a timed challenge like NaNoWriMo, it helps to plan out your daily benchmarks in order to finish on time. Consider setting a daily word count goal or making a schedule for the month so you know exactly where you stand each day. Make an outline if you’re a plotter, or if you’re a pantser, spend some time getting into the world of your story.

3. Decide you’re going to write a messy first draft.

We recommend stating it outright to yourself, or maybe writing it down on a Post-It where you can see it each day: My goal is to write a messy first draft. Embrace that imperfection so that you can write more freely!

4. Silence your inner critic.

As you write, revisit your messy first draft goal and resist the urge to critique or edit your work as you go along. Instead, concentrate on getting your thoughts down without judgment. This means not overanalyzing each sentence. Did that last sentence sound ridiculous? Who cares?! Anything goes in a messy first draft. You’ll refine and revise later!

5. Turn off your inner spell-check.

Freewrite devices have no spell-check or grammar checker for a reason. Every squiggly line is a distraction, a moment that your writing flow is broken and you have to resist going back to fix typos. Even if your eyes recognize a typo, train your brain to fix it later! Remember: we’re focusing on getting out thoughts and ideas in the first draft, not grammar.

6. Eliminate external distractions.

We’ve done the hard work for you by creating Freewrite. 😉 Now, put your phone in the other room, turn off the TV, and start writing.

7. Write quickly.

This is just another way to trick your brain into writing from that deep, creative place that can’t be reached when you’re overthinking. Strive for a flow state where you’re typing at the speed that your thoughts come to you.

8. Use placeholders.

If you can’t think of the right word or need to look up a source, just insert a placeholder and keep writing. Our favorite placeholder is “xx” because that can easily be searched in editing software later. Other people like the more straightforward “[INSERT SOMETHING FUNNY]” or “[CHECK SOURCE]”. You can fill in those gaps during the editing phase.

9. Keep moving forward.

If you encounter writer’s block or a difficult section, resist the temptation to stop and dwell on it. Skip to another part in your story and return to the challenging section later. We like to add a note to ourselves right there in the draft to remind us to come back to that spot when editing.

10. No back-tracking.

Often while drafting, a brilliant sentence will come to us. But it’s describing something we just described. What to do? Do not go back, delete the first sentence, and replace it. Simply keep writing the new sentence! These redundancies are easy to correct later.

11. Experiment.

Try different styles and approaches without judgement. You can compare and contrast and pick the best one later, during the editing stage.

12. Write!

Relish in the creative flow and the freedom of having one job to do: writing. Don’t worry about grammar or story structure. Focus on the joy of creating.

With a few tweaks in how you draft, we hope you’ll be surprised by how much you write, the creative ideas your imagination comes up with, and how much fun you have while writing.

And if you try the above rules of forward drafting, we’d love to hear your experience!

Reminder: NaNoWriMo 2023 participants are eligible for a special Freewrite offer. Find all the details here. 

[thewulf]

Authority Thing || Pete "Maverick" Mitchell

Summary: Request - Hi can you write a request about Maverick x a shy pilot reader and make it fluffy. Like Maverick pulls reader out of her shell?

A/N: Kinda made this a shy pilot because she’s crushing on him not because she’s shy in general. Also turned out way more angsty than I was planning but it’s still super fluffy! Hope you still enjoy :)

Pairing: Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x Y/N (2022 Version)

Word Count: 3.7k +

Edited again 3/11/24 after finding lots of issues - sorry!

He knew from the moment he spotted you in the back of the classroom on that very first day he was a goner. Physically, you were perfect. Your hair framed your face perfectly, your eyes reflected the sunshine in a way he’d never seen, your smile was truly infectious, you were perfect in all the right places.

Mentally, you were a challenge for him. You were shy. So quiet. He couldn’t seem to get through to you either. You were close. So damn close to taking that next step. But it’s like you were afraid. You were scared to fail. You were an exceptional pilot. Right on par with Hangman. You were good enough to block him out and take him down. You were able to prove that you were the best of the literal best. But something was stopping you.

You were never afraid to challenge your classmates. He got a kick out of it when you’d snap back at Hangman with the venom dripping in your voice. You were beyond intimidating when you needed to be. You didn’t need to talk shit because your flying proved how good you really were. You knew you were good. You knew you were great. You also knew your limits. You knew you needed to become exceptional. There was something more for you to give. You just had to find it first.

But Pete, Maverick, Mitchell? Maverick terrified you, in the best way. He was a legend. Literally never lost. Almost had five live air kills… you could go on and on about him. Ad to find out he was your instructor for the next six or so weeks? You knew you were toast. Absolute toast. Then you actually laid eyes on the Captain, and you wish you could’ve just exploded right there on the spot. He was handsome. So, fucking handsome. You locked eyes with him for only seconds on that first day of class before your turned away. You didn’t look back to him at all that class. Too terrified you’d make a damn fool of yourself.

So, you kept it short with him. Quick ‘Yes’s and No’s’. You’d often just take his corrections without fighting back. It confused him. You were so damn different with him than anybody else. You’d even warmed up to Cyclone, the Admiral for God’s sake. He saw you walking, talking, and laughing with him on your way to lunch one day. He didn’t have a clue as to why you were so shy around him. Why you’d rather run in the opposite direction than have to pass him in the hallway. It’d only been two weeks and it was driving him mad. He needed to talk with you. Was it something he did?

He would he decided. At the end of your next classroom session. One way or another he’d get some answers out of you. He needed to know if he did something wrong. It was gnawing at the back of his head.

“Birdie, if you don’t mind. Stay back for a second?” You looked at Bob who just shrugged, unsure of what your instructor could have wanted. You packed up slowly letting everybody trickle out before walking towards the front of the classroom.

Birdie. Your callsign. You had a love and hate relationship with it. You’d always joked that you felt like a bird in the sky when you were in training to become a pilot. Your friends promptly started calling you Birdie and it just stuck. You kind of wished you had a more fun story to tell other than the boring one of how you got your callsign. But alas, you didn’t. It was simple. Cute. Basic. Kind of like you. You’d never seen yourself as anything but ordinary. Just Y/N. Good at her job Y/N.

“Captain.” You let out a shaky breath. He made you nervous. So damn nervous. People of authority always did. And then he looked like that on top of it? Forget it. You were a goner. It wasn’t right to be thinking such unsavory thoughts about your damn instructor in your head. It made you act like a fucking weirdo in front of him. Case and point. You couldn’t even look him in the eyes.

“Good job up there today. Four for four.” You looked up from where you standing just quickly enough to see him staring right at you. Why’d he have to be so handsome? It was an unfair game that was suddenly being played against you.

“Thank you.” A small smile crept to your face hearing the compliment. It felt good. A small praise from the man giving you a small bit of confidence to look up to him but give him no more.

He nodded walking down to you, standing across from you. Your heart rate picked up quickly feeling his presence right there. Right in front of you. Oh, how you’ve avoided this situation masterfully. Now look where you were. Stuck alone in the classroom with him right there in front of you. What could possibly go wrong?

He waited until you looked at him to continue. He knew curiosity would get the better of you sooner or later. He was right. After thirty seconds of silence, you looked up.

He smiled seeing your doe-eyed expression. He shouldn’t feel this way about you. He shouldn’t want to brush the strand of hair that fell out of your bun away from your face. He shouldn’t want to run a hand along your back. He shouldn’t want to fucking kiss you senseless. But he wanted it. He wanted it all and more. So much more. What the hell was wrong with him? You were so young. So lively. Had so much to look forward too. Hell, you even had a shot of becoming an admiral if you had the drive to do it.

“Sir?” You asked, waiting on his question. His reason for holding you back.

He hummed delaying a second, “Everything alright?”

Nodding quickly your head turned up to him again, “Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?”

He shrugged looking away for a moment. Giving you a second of reprieve from his gaze. Everything about the man was commanding. Everything, “No reason. You just seem to be a bit fidgety?”

What the hell was he going on about? You weren’t acting any different than you had been prior, “I do?” Of course, you were fucking fidgety. He was less than a foot from you not having a damn clue what he was doing to you. You could smell him. He smelled better than you imagined. Leather, oil, and cedar all mixed together. Way too good for a day instructing on base.

“Did I do something?” He spit it out. Well, it was out in the open now. It’s not like he could take it back. It sounded so terribly insecure when he spoke it out loud.

You shook your head, “No, not at all Captain.” Your heart started racing as he gave you a once over.

“Then what is it Lieutenant?” He asked with all the calmness in the world.

Your head was swimming. Swimming with thousands, millions of thoughts, “Sir?” Play dumb. That was always the easiest route to go.

“Why can’t you look me in the eye Y/N?” Why’d he have to use your name like that? It got your dumb hear racing faster than even you were used to.

Your eyes snapped to his. That was not the question you were expecting, “You… Authority makes me nervous.” You spoke quietly deciding to keep your eyes locked in on his. Not letting his statement completely reign true.

He grinned a wicked look before a much more innocent one came to face, you didn’t miss it though, “I make you nervous?”

You said nothing at first, nodding quickly in agreement instead, “Authority.” It was merely a whisper.

Mav’s face cracked into a simper while he studied your features, “There’s nothing to be nervous about.”

You didn’t move your head, but your eyes moved to look to him, “I suppose that’s easier said than realized.” You admitted.

He stepped forward. Probably crossing a line, he shouldn’t have. But he couldn’t stand it. Why were you comfortable with everybody else but him, “What can I do then?”

You cocked your head to the side, “What do you mean Mav?” You asked so softly he thought his knees were going to buckle right then and there. You said his name so sweetly it took him off guard. He really should just let you go. This was a bad idea. He shouldn’t be pressing you like this. He knew better than to. But he didn’t want to. He wanted to press on. Dig a little deeper. See you a little bit better. He was intrigued.

“Is there anything I can do to make you less nervous?”

You laughed softly. Get ugly? Stop looking like that? Stop being so hot in a flight suit? Stop being my flight instructor? “Afraid not Captain.” You sat back on the desk knowing this was likely not going to be over soon.

He took a seat next to you, “Why not?”

You shrugged, “It’s the authority thing. Call it trauma.” You joked.

He smiled along with you, “So, say I wasn’t your instructor…”

Cutting him off quickly you felt your blood run cold, “You’re not going to kick me off the squadron are you?” your panicked look made him feel awful

He shook his head quickly, “No, no never. It’s a hypothetical.”

You sighed softly, “Sorry.” You felt an overwhelming amount of embarrassment consume you. You’d worked so hard to get to where you are that even a little bit of an inkling of a threat sent you into overthinking mode. You weren’t proud of it by any means. It was something you were working on.

“It’s fine.” He smiled feeling your tension just radiate off your body. He seemed to pick up on anything relating to you. Again, he had to wonder. What the hell was wrong with him?

“Would you be as nervous around me if I wasn’t your instructor?” He quirked up a brow all too curious to hear your answer.

You laughed softly, “Yes, I would.” It was starting to become easier to talk to him. But he still intimidated the hell out of you. You hadn’t a clue how to navigate your superior being hot as hell. Normally they were old dudes who had kids your age. Not Maverick.

He huffed in almost frustration. He appreciated thar you were being honest with him, but he wasn’t sure what it was about him, “But why?”

You shrugged, “Still an authority, Captain.”

He placed a hand a little too close to yours, “You seemed just fine with Cyclone earlier.” He leaned in almost challenging you. He loved talking to you, but this conversation had gone of for too long now. Curiosity was literally killing the cat.

You nodded along with him, “Well yeah, that’s different.”

He looked at you incredulously, “How?”

It slipped out before you really meant to say it, “He’s married.” And then it was out there. It didn’t take Pete long to put two and two together. You were basically screaming that he was off limits and that Pete wasn’t. You didn’t mean to all but admit it but here you were. Heart hammering in your chest.

“I mean. He’s established. He’s not my direct authority. You know what I mean?” Even you didn’t know what you meant. You were caught red handed. Hand in the cookie jar. Damn. It is what it is now.

Mav shook his head with a lopsided grin, “I think I know exactly what you mean Y/N.” He also knew you’d never outright admit it either. He realized just how damn weird the whole thing was for you as well. He was your superior. You couldn’t cross that line either. Not unless you knew for sure that it was alright. The game the both of you were playing was dangerous. Very dangerous.

Thick tension hung in the air. You hadn’t a clue what to say to your instructor after accidentally telling him the real reason he made you so nervous. Not outright spilling the truth but putting making it rather obvious in your wake instead.

“I should get going.” You stood from the table you were sitting on.

He mimicked your actions, “Should you?”

Nodding your head you gave him a flash of a smile, “Yeah, long day tomorrow. You said so yourself. Right?” Raising your eyebrows, you knew you had him there.

His otherworldly smile lit up his face. God, he was so handsome. That just wasn’t fair.

“Right. Sleep well Y/N. See you in the morning.”

“You too Pete.” You weren’t sure why you used his first name, but it felt right. Felt like a step you wanted to take for yourself.

You didn’t catch the furious blush that rose to his cheeks at that. He knew he needed to pull back immediately, or he’d get himself, or you, in trouble. He couldn’t be blushing around Cyclone when you came around. He’d just have to ignore it. He could do that. Or so he thought he could.

Maverick must have gotten in your head. The next day was... less than stellar. You had a bad day. A very bad day. You landed without a single victory. With Rooster shooting you down for the second time that afternoon.

Sitting in the jet cockpit of the hangar you’d pulled your helmet off without much thought and just sat there. Thinking. You were fine yesterday. What the hell happened today? You’d been shot down five times. Twice by Hangman, twice by Rooster and once by Phoenix. You weren’t even close to shooting them down.

You were too eager with you grip making dumb rookie mistakes. Mistakes that’d have you shot down in an instant up in the air. All of them were able to see it and exploit it. A bad day. That’s all it was. It didn’t make you a bad pilot. Not in the slightest. You had to remember that. Drop today and remember how good you really were.

“Are you going to come down Lieutenant?” That voice broke you from the thoughts that were seemingly tormenting you in the cockpit. The ones that kept seeming to tell you that you weren’t good enough. You might’ve been the best at your home base but not here. No. You were average amongst the best.

Your eyes snapped open. Pete? What was he doing down there? He hardly came out here after training, “Yeah.” You answered quickly not wanting to leave him waiting. He wasn't one for patience, “Just thinking.” You knew you needed an excuse or he would press. No matter how lame it may be. But it wasn’t a lie. You really were just thinking.

He didn’t say a word as you came down the ladder. When you got a good look at him he almost looked, angry? His lips were drawn in a thin line. He had a hard time looking at you. Eyebrows stitched too close together for him to be in a good mood.

“What the hell was that?” His normally chipper tone had vanished. He sounded too much like an instructor now. He didn’t even sound like the Maverick you had gotten to know. No, a drill sergeant instead. He noticed your expression change as you realized this wasn’t going to be a fun conversation.

He felt bad doing such a 180 on you like that. But he had to, for your sake. Or so he thought.

“I’m not sure sir… I...” You stammered trying to come up with something. He’d already made you nervous and now this? You were a blubbering mess. Sure to look like the fool of a woman you knew they were likely expecting of you. See, the men could make mistakes. You couldn't. Women couldn't.

“Not a single kill today Lieutenant?” His voice stayed icy as you stood there forward like he was a drill Sargant. It suddenly felt like you were back in basic training all over again.

You looked down in what felt like shame, “No, Captain.” The voice that came out of you sounded weak. Likely because you felt weak. You didn’t feel like you were good enough to be here. Like all those kills you got against Hangman and Rooster prior to this day was just all just luck. Straight luck. Rationally, you knew better. You knew how good of pilot you were. You wouldn’t be good enough to get here. But your own mind was playing tricks on you. Planting seeds that should’ve never been dug.

He pressed further not seeing that he was beginning to push you past your breaking point. Further than even you would have expected from him. Your head was already coming down too hard on yourself. His words only seemed to dig that dagger in a little further that drove the final nail in the coffin of your confidence.

“What’s the problem then Lieutenant?” He stepped closer, challenging you. You weren’t in the right headspace for this. Not in the slightest.

You shook your head slowly, “I don’t know Mav.” Looking down at your boots you couldn’t bear to look up at his disappointed expression. You were just trying to hold back the tears at this point.

“You don’t know?” He sounded patronizing as if he was talking to a toddler.

“I…no.” Your voice was too shaky, so you stopped. Collect yourself. You could do this. You’ve done this hundreds of times before.

He must’ve not noticed the tears that were threatening to spill over as you looked up at him finally, “I can’t put somebody on a team who doesn't know what's going on. I need somebody who knows what they do wrong!" His voice grew from anger to frustration as he spoke. Yet he failed to see your utterly devastated gaze as he went on and on about things you had already known. Each word felt like a knife as he continued on, "You won't get a second chance on this mission. If you get shot down you're as good as dead."

Your heart ran cold, feeling as though it was shattering into a million pieces right then and there, “You don’t think I know that sir?” Your voice nearly broke as it wobbled through trying to finish the sentence.

He’d certainly noticed it then as his eyes finally found your tear stained cheeks. He usually knew how hard he could push. He could usually push you a whole lot harder, but he’d gone too far today. He knew when he heard that unusual waver in your voice.

He hadn't planned it but he knew he needed to back off, “It’s a bad day. It happens. Shake it off Birdie." The words come out of his mouth so fast he was sure you felt like you were getting whiplash from his hot and cold behavior. One moment he was nearly flirting with you then the next he scolding you.

He didn’t mean it. Not a bit of it. He didn’t even like being an asshole to Hangman, although it was fun sometimes. Being one to you made him feel awful. But he had to. He wasn't kidding when he said you didn't get second chances out there.

You shook your head, “I’ll do better tomorrow. I don’t know…”

He cut you off by placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. He hadn’t noticed how wound up about the day you had already been. He didn’t mean to push you further. He was just trying to be the instructor you needed to succeed on this mission that didn't have amazing outcomes.

This was the opposite of being tough on you though, “It’s fine Y/N. Go home. Read a book or watch some TV. Come back tomorrow. You’ll be just fine.”

You looked at his hand on his shoulder before looking at him, giving him a curt nod, “Sure. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You turned to walk away, brushing the tears away from your eyes.

Before you could walk through the locker room door you tuned back to him. After today you weren't sure if you even deserved the consideration,“You shouldn’t pick me.” You said so quiet you weren’t even sure if he heard it.

By the way he walked right over he must have. He grabbed your arm suddenly, not forcefully by any means, “Don’t say that. Why would you say that?” He genuinely felt awful for pushing too hard now. This didn't seem like you. You were headstrong. Stronger than even he seemed.

You looked down almost ashamed to admit it to him, “Because… because I’m not good enough sir. You saw me out there today. I'm as good as dead.” You were supposed to be the best of the best, but you hardly felt like it today. You were getting your ass handed to you left and right. Hangman was laying it on thick today too. He did that whenever he got the chance.

The day started bad when Rooster knocked you out almost immediately. And only got worse on subsequent runs. You were zero for four by the time you went up for the last round of the day. You got in your own damn head. It happened. It happened to everyone. You knew it. Still didn’t make it sting worse when you were on your thousandth pushup for the day.

He shook his head grabbing your hand quickly, “What are you talking about? You’re one of the best pilots I’ve ever worked with. You’re a fucking menace out there Y/N.”

You shook your head, “You’re just saying that because I’m about to cry.” You wanted to believe him. Maybe any other day you’d believe him. It was a no good, very bad day for you.

He only dropped his hand from your arm to bring it to your shoulder once again, giving it a gentle squeeze, “I’m not. I’m really not. Believe it or not.” He sighed collecting his thoughts once more, “I’m sorry. Really. I only come down hard on you because I know you can handle it. But I need you to not think like that. If you do get picked I need your head screwed all the way on. It’s not your run of the mill mission and you know that. You’ve got to be all the way there. All the way present. You hear me?”He asked.

You turned your head to look up to him, “Yeah. I hear you.” Your voice was much more you, more controlled.

He didn’t quite believe you though so he continued, “You are an exceptional pilot Y/N. The rest of the squad needs you to be. Bad days happen. Don’t let that asshole get to you.”

You smiled for the first time that day. It felt good talking with him. Actually, talking and not being afraid of him. A dramatic shift from that of moments ago, “You got it. Thanks Mav.” You wanted to thank him as a friend. Maybe a potential suitor. Not as a student. Not as a subordinate. But as a person.

He smiled for the first time that day as well. He had a long way yet to go with you, but it was a start. Something. He knew one thing that was sure. He was excited to get this damn mission over with. He didn’t want to be your superior anymore. He wanted to be your co-worker. The person you turned and laughed with whenever the most outrageous orders were given. He wanted to get there, was determined to get there.

“Sure thing, Y/N.” He let his hand fall, “See you at the Hard Deck tonight?” He asked curiously.

“You’re coming?” You’d seen him there the first night. You’d thought he was the most handsome thing in the bar. Hangman did not. Kept giving you shit for giving the ‘old man’ eyes. Whatever. You hadn’t seen him at the bar sense that night though. But he knew you guys went every Thursday. He listened.

“Maybe.”

You smiled once more, “You should. It’d be fun to see you kick Hangman’s ass in trivia.”

He laughed, a genuine one, one he hadn’t felt in quite some time, “How do you know I’m any good at trivia?”

You shrugged, “Have a feeling. Hope to see you tonight Pete.” The wink you sent him sent butterflies aflame throughout your body. Where in the hell did that confidence come from?

Pete legs went to jelly for a second as he watched you walk away. That you would. He was sure of it.

Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!): @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @dempy

[apocalypticwafflekitten]

I Promise You, Bonnie, It's Okay (Part 1)

Ex-Catholic!John MacTavish x Ex-Catholic!Reader

A/N: I don’t know if this is canon, but I’ve seen a lot of people talk about Johnny being Catholic and it gave me this idea. This is extremely cathartic and self-indulgent, so I totally get if this isn’t up your alley. Just be nice if you leave a comment, please. Basically, this is ex-Catholic Johnny and ex-Catholic Reader. Johnny left the church a long time ago and he’s had time to heal, but the reader is just leaving. She’s trying to mend her relationship with sex and Johnny is there to help her work through it.  Update: I made the teeniest tiniest edit that added a small detail about the reader. Trying to help the next part make more sense!

Original Imagine/Summary Thingy: Catholic Guilt is one hell of a Beast to Bear

Warnings: 18+, No Minors, Mature Themes and Discussions*✨if you’re younger than 18 or have no age in your bio, I will not hesitate to block you.✨ Allusions to Religion (it's barely there in the actual story, but I want to put that warning here just in case), Discussing Sex (not explicitly), Guilt Associated with Sex, Johnny being the softest, gentlest person on the face of the earth.

*While this part doesn't contain explicit sex, there are still mature themes and discussion about sex. I'm also labelling this as 18+ since Part 2 will be sexually explicit

Word Count: 739 / Divider By: @cafekitsune

Masterlist / Next Part (1.5) >

“It’s okay to want this.” Johnny says, stepping toward you so he can take your hands in his, gently entwining your fingers together.

You huff out a sort of sarcastic laugh, “It feels like it’s not. I mean, I know, logically, that this is fine. Sex is fine and it’s natural and there’s nothing wrong with it,” You pause, swallowing the lump that’s starting to build in the back of your throat. “But in practice, it’s…different.” 

“I know what you mean, bonnie. I remember that feeling; after I left.”

“It's just…any other time I’ve had sex, I just…there’s this horrible guilt that feels like it’s eating me alive. I feel like I’m not allowed to enjoy it. Like I’m not allowed to want it. So I have hook-ups and one-night-stands and don’t ever sleep with the same person twice. I don’t have to stop and think about it that way. It’s just a quick fuck and that’s it.” You stop to breathe, taking a moment to collect yourself before continuing, “But anytime I hook up with someone, no matter how good the sex is, or how good of an orgasm I get, in the end, I’m left alone, in some stranger’s sheets, looking up at a ceiling that isn’t mine, listening to the sound of a running sink and at this point, turning on my own sink makes me feel guilty.” You stop for a moment to figure out what you’re trying to say.

Johnny just holds your hands and listens, letting you vent everything that’s been on your mind the past few weeks. He rubs his thumbs across the backs of your hands and hopes that the small gesture provides you with some sort of comfort.

You heave a sigh, “I’m tired, Johnny. I want more than quick, rebellious fucks with people I don’t know. I’m tired of burning out and fighting off tears. I'm tired of never making the first move. I’m tired of feeling guilty for something as stupid as sex. I just want….” You take a stuttering breath, squeezing Johnny’s hands. “I just want to be okay with it. I just wanna have sex without feeling like a terrible person.” 

Johnny’s brows crease and before you can notice his expression, he’s pulling you into the tightest hug you’ve ever felt in your life.

“Yer not a terrible person. Not in a million years. I know that’s what it feels like. I know all your life you’ve been told that you’ll burn for wanting anything close to sex. But I swear to you—I promise you, bonnie, it’s okay.” Johnny has to stop to take his own shuddering breath before continuing, “You’ll never be a bad person for wanting sex. Or enjoying sex, or thinking about sex or experimenting with sex. It’s not a moral thing - not the way the church thinks of it. Wanting sex doesn’t decide whether you’re a good person or a bad person. It just means you’re a person. One who happens to want sex. That’s all.” 

Johnny can feel you nod against his chest, but that’s not quite enough for him. He pulls back a little, just enough to tilt your head up and meet you eye-to-eye. There’s a heavy resolve in his eyes, something serious – something personal. 

“Make me a promise bonnie.” 

You nod, staring deep into his endless ocean eyes. 

“Promise me that if you ever feel bad for wanting sex, you’ll tell me; If the guilt starts eating at you, you’ll call me. I don’t care if it's in the middle of the day, or right after a hookup at three am. Call me. You shouldn’t have to deal with that kind of guilt. And I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you don’t.”

You nod, but again, it’s not enough. 

“I need to hear you say it bonnie. Promise me. Promise you’ll call.” 

Johnny’s eyes are so wide. He looks almost…scared? But at the same time his face says that this is the most important thing he’s ever asked of anyone. So, with a quiet understanding of the weight this holds for Johnny, you answer him. 

“I will Johnny. I promise. I’ll call.” 

Johnny rests his forehead against yours, content with your answer. He fiddles with your fingers, feeling how they bend at the joints and how soft your skin is.

“Johnny?”

“Yes bonnie?”  

You cradle Johnny’s face with your own hand. 

“You shouldn’t have had to deal with that kind of guilt either.” 

[bahja-blix]

😐💀 A Dumbass Appeared (Ask Edition) A post regarding Viv Stans (Part 2)

Before we begin I want to say that I will absolutely not be censoring the person in this for valid reasons. I'll however censor the people who are just regular visitors.

What brilliance unfolds in my ask box? They put themselves out there on purpose "because reason"... I guess?

Reminder This is the Internet, you put yourself out there, your out there forever and if you do something stupid or say something stupid, your idiocy might go viral enough where you get called out so don't expect people to cover you up when YOU did this To Yourself

When I changed my bio to say "Bored ASF, Ask a Goth" I didn't mean be a god damn loser and make up shit on purpose for Bait reasons.

Yes this is real and Yes these were sent by a Viv Stan and it's OBVIOUSLY Bait but I still wanted to review it just for fun because I was literally laughing my ass off and I ain't even high!! 🤣 that And the actual person was Serious about deleting their profile along with taking the time to remove one by one every like and post from their profile which is hilarious. I didn't even make a post at the time and they disappear Anyway 😂. So I had absolutely no option to respond regardless. Lol you didn't think I'd see that but I did LMAO. You took the time to send me this but couldn't take a couple seconds to block me right after so I don't see your profile disappear but I guess you're just that stupid. What stopped you from just deleting your account without going through lengths to type this shit up?

We start with Kona, a boot lickin Viv stan living in denial over the fact that their obviously a Viv Stan. I said I wasn't going to answer this but this is HORRIBLE 😂 How could I Not share!

I love how you literally sat here and took the time to go ""Anonymous"" on the first ask you sent me showing your name and profile only to turn around and send me Another ask and Then another begging to me down on your knees basically telling me to forget I saw your ass 🤣🤣🤣

Omfgfgfggg🤣🤣🤣

I absolutely applaud how you "went out of your way to ALL these critics" like your some kinda Big Dawg white knighting for Viv telling us to "Listen up" because God Damnit "This town ain't Big Enough for the two of us" only to completely disappear off the face of the earth because you knew I saw your ass and you got scared.

I'm assuming you saw my last post where I said "Stick it" when referring to someone else that didn't agree with the helluva boss and hazbin hotel critical community...so you took it to heart and used it in the ask!? Did my post offend you 🥺🥺🥺? Omg I'm terribly sorry that I'm not a boot licking Viv Stan... I truly am (⁠◡⁠ ⁠ω⁠ ⁠◡⁠)

So... you attack Showtoonz for no reason other than *Double Checks Notes* ahh here we go "Having valid opinions" fresh off the table *chef kiss excuse* lol

LMAO they really said "Ass takes" omg no wayyy 😂

I also applaud how you basically said that the entirety of the helluva boss and hazbin hotel critical community an "embarrassment to our democracy" lol where that come from? and that the best argument you can come up with is that "*ughhh* your all "cOnSeRvAtIvEs" like did you travel across time and space through the Internet, see my page, and pretend to get triggered over the fact that I'm p***tically balanced in every direction?? Open minded if you will!? What does critiquing a show have to do with what's going on outside in the world? You do realize a lot of these people critiquing Viv Are in fact Democrats (me included in that spectrum) that Were fans of Viv and don't agree with Viv because she messes shit up on purpose 😂

Love how your one of those people that's obviously too far on the edge who are an actual embarrassment to society because this is the shit you put out there along with the

"YoUr NoT oNe Of Us" argument because what else would you pull out of your ass like legit your literally the type of person that likes to sniff your own fucking farts... Geez

I can't stop laughing 🤣

"One of Us! One of Us! Gooble gobble, Gooble gobble, One of Us! One of Us!" Like I can't. We Dems ain't gonna bow down to you and kiss your ass like your some kind of King so you might as well get over it buttercup

Regarding the last one for Bait reasons you decided to bring janky brained Joe into this... What a legend! You really showed us Dems the middle finger and went "Fuck ALL of You" 😂 Hey pal I'm NGL, but all I'm saying is that maybe you shouldn't be so into your own p***tical fart clouds so much because all that methane n shit will clog up your thinking.

"OMG I've been exposed by my own "Brilliance" in taking down these critics, please don't expose me"

W H E E Z E !!!

this last bits my favorite part

"*Clears throat* "If you disagree with me I'm going to "delete my account"

(Welp I guess I disagree with you :D, have a nice day ^^ Adios!! 🤣) Wait? You were actually Serious??? 🤣🤣🤣

"run to Twitter" with all my problems (because of course your one of those losers) and "bitch" to my two followers that "Will raise all hell" down onto those "Antis" who are so Mean and Negative where my post is sure to go viral enough to take down the entire critical community and reap their rights away from them"

Without any proof, but instead your tail tucked between your legs as you run and hide.

PA THETIC

Managed to get this on the way out. A Viv Stan in denial who's also a hypocrite. Oh but we "anti Viv Stan critics" have "ass takes" and "no valid criticism" You blindly support woomy... The same person who attacked multiple people in our communities for having valid opinions!

Fucking Cringe dude

[bellaxgiornata]

Keep Coming Back to You [Chapter One]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Mutant!Reader Word Count: 2.4k [Series Masterlist]

Warnings: 18+ for this series; angst, smut, horror, language, violence (possibly more warnings later)

Word Count: 4.9k

a/n: This chapter has been re-edited from when it was first posted. There's some college Matt and Foggy goodness at the end of this one! Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

Six Years Later

A cold gust of wind blew past you, the breeze lightly rustling the leaves on the nearby trees. A storm was inevitably on its way, you could tell it by the thick scent of ozone hanging in the air. Sweet and strong, a crisp smell that you’d often found comforting. 

Except for right now.

Heavy footfalls pounded along the sidewalk behind you, the reverberating thump thump spurring you forward. Darting around the corner of the block, you raced past two-story house after two-story house. The only light illuminating the pavement in the darkness as you ran came from the perfectly spaced street lights lining the road in the upscale neighborhood you’d suddenly found yourself in along with a few outdoor sconces lit on the front of a handful of homes. You weren’t even remotely surprised that no one had even glanced out of their window to see why a young woman was being chased at night down their street. It was amazing what people anywhere chose to ignore.

As you continued to run, your lungs felt close to bursting, a sharp pain steadily building inside of them as you struggled to take a full breath. Despite the chill of the evening, you could feel sweat accumulating along your forehead and there was a stitch in your side gradually turning into a painful cramp which was making it difficult for you to continue your pace. Your legs were growing weak; your left shin felt like it was burning with every jolt from the pavement beneath you as you ran. But you had to keep on running, you didn’t have a choice.

They had been chasing you for multiple blocks now, and while you had never been the best runner, it was something you’d been forced to get better at during your time back on Nightmare 1 just so you could survive. But with the added fence climbing you’d been doing tonight as you ran from neighborhood to neighborhood, struggling to get some distance between you and Them, you were quickly reaching your breaking point. You needed to stop and rest. You needed to find a safe space to get out of here and get Them finally off of your trail.

Panting heavily, you made a split decision and abruptly turned and sprinted down the side of a house towards the backyard. Your heart was hammering in your chest feeling like it was ready to explode right through your ribcage from overexertion. Fear was building in you, a fear so strong that you were desperately trying to fight it back down. If you didn't get your body under control and quick you knew exactly what would happen soon. You would be pulled–and you definitely didn't want to be pulled. You needed to focus and calm down so you could jump. Fear would only make things worse.

"You can't hide from me girl!" They roared out.

Their voice wasn’t too far away, you realized. They weren’t too far behind because you’d unfortunately been growing tired and slowing down.

" Shit ," you whispered.

Your eyes scanned the backyard around you looking for anything to help you. You spotted a patio with a built-in firepit, a large outdoor dining area, and a pool–none of which would do you any good. Shifting your focus, you spotted the few large trees at the very back of the yard that were somewhat hiding a wooden playset with a covered roof. Without hesitation you sprinted straight towards the playset, throwing yourself up the ladder rung after rung when you reached it and wincing as it creaked unsteadily underneath your weight. 

Please don't snap in half under me. Please don't snap in half under me.

When you reached the top you immediately crawled up against one of the wood walls at the back of the structure, tucking your legs tight into your body to make yourself as small as possible. Forcing yourself to calm down, you inhaled sharply through your nose before holding your breath. A moment later you carefully exhaled as quietly as you could. You needed to steady your heart rate.

You heard Their soft footsteps rustling through the grass on your second calculated inhale. As you quietly expelled the breath, you hesitantly peered through a knot in the wooden wall beside you. They were standing in the middle of the dark yard, Their eyes focused directly on the playset you were hiding inside. Your eyes snapped shut as you felt your skin crawl beneath Their gaze. It felt as if They could somehow see exactly where you were sitting curled up inside the structure. 

You didn't have much time. You needed to go, needed to make a jump.

When you opened your eyes again, you tried to ignore the thunderous beating of your heart in your ears and instead focus on the space before you. Concentrating hard, you willed the shimmering threads of colorful light to reveal themselves to you. Slowly they began to shift into your vision like a sea of sparkling lights.

"You can't hide forever, girl," They called out again. 

You tried to ignore the sound of Their voice and Their attempt to rattle you. Instead you focused on the lights, your eyes searching for the thread that you had always felt slightly drawn towards. Though as of late it had become harder and harder to find that exact thread of light among the multitudes of universes. But that thread meant Home to you, or at least it had recently become something like Home. You figured you’d make a quick jump there before immediately finding somewhere else safe to jump to in order to lose Them for a while.

"The others couldn't hide from me either," They called out, Their voice growing closer. 

Their words caused you to pause your search, momentarily distracted by what They’d just said. The threads of multiple different universes glittered in the open air before you, varying shades of colors and lights softly reflecting along your legs beneath them. In the distance you heard a crack of thunder roar through the sky.

"You’re not the only one, Serena," They continued, smug satisfaction in Their tone. "And I know that's not your real name, girl."

Your head snapped to your left. They were standing at the bottom of the playset’s slide now, staring right at you through the dark with a menacing smile. The teeth of the young man They were currently possessing flashed at you like a warning. A terrified shiver ran down your spine at the sight.

"I always get them eventually," They called up to you. "Just like I'll get you. Because you’re the real prize, girl."

Ice cold fear shot its way through your veins. Before you could control it, something was tugging sharply at your body. That horrifyingly familiar feel of cold hands gripping your shoulders and yanking you forcefully backwards hit you hard. 

And then you were falling. 

Your stomach felt like it was flying up into your throat, your organs shifting and squeezing unpleasantly inside of you in that horribly familiar way as you were pulled. It was the second worst possible thing that could have happened to you at that moment. 

Just as fast as it had started the sensation stopped. You landed hard on your knees along cracked pavement, wincing in pain at the rough drop. Your hands instinctively flew forward to catch yourself, scratching roughly along the broken cement as you tried to steady yourself on all fours. Panting hard, you looked up and surveyed your surroundings while hoping against all hope you weren’t where you thought you were. But your heart fell to the demolished road beside you the moment you took in the sight of the plant life overtaking the decrepit houses around you. Eyes closing, you tried to fight back the sting of tears.

Not here again. Anywhere else but here.

A fresh wave of panic rolled through you as you quickly and quietly rose to your feet. It had been awhile since you’d been to this world, but you still remembered exactly what you needed to do to survive here. You needed to be silent. You needed to remain calm. And you needed to get the fuck out of here as fast as you possibly could. Before one of those things found you. You just needed a second to catch your breath and scan your surroundings first to make sure you were safe and alone. Then you would find a safe universe and jump again.

That's it, you told yourself. Just calm down. I'll get out of here, I always do. Just need to stay calm.

You tried to take a steady breath, keeping your eyes open while you scanned the area around you. Carefully you expelled the breath as softly as you could, your eyes taking in the sight of the post-apocalyptic neighborhood before you. There was a gaping hole in the roof of the house just in front of you, the front door entirely missing. Both houses beside it had broken windows and ivy snaking its way up the front of them. The exterior paint had long since faded and peeled, and the mailboxes out front were rusted and tipped to the side. But at least you didn't see any movement. 

While you had observed your surroundings, you’d also kept an ear out, listening to every single sound within your vicinity. For now, you’d only heard the soft whistle of wind through the copse of trees nearby. Everything else was quiet. Which was good. Silence was good here. Silence met one of those things weren't about to surprise you before overtaking you and savagely ripping you to shreds with teeth and nails.

Or tear into your flesh and infect you. Turn you into one of them

Fuck, I hate this place.

Cautiously you made your way through the tall grass as it brushed against your skin, the soft swish of it hitting your ears as you moved. The overcast light from the sun sneaking through the cloud cover overhead was a sharp contrast to the dark night you'd just been running through moments ago. 

Traveling through worlds was an incredibly strange experience. It could be broad daylight in one place, but then you could jump and end up somewhere where it was pitch black seconds later. Same with the weather–it could be springtime somewhere, with birds chirping and flowers blooming, and then another moment you were landing in three feet of freezing cold snow in a pair of shorts. 

Your concept of time was entirely fucked at this point.

Moving on the front of your feet, you tried to make as little sound as possible with each step you took. You were still struggling to catch your breath after that chase you’d barely escaped, trying in vain to keep your labored breathing steady and quiet. You just wanted to get your back against something solid and search the threads for a universe that felt safe to jump to at this point. That was your focus right now.

You moved slowly, careful to be as soundless as you could as you grimaced at the stains of old blood you saw splattered along the panels of the house. You didn’t want to think about what had happened here. Shuffling your way gradually over to the side of the house, you continued to keep your ears focused on any nearby noises. 

Reaching the house, you very carefully turned around and stepped backwards until your back hit the wall. Now nothing could sneak up behind you while you worked. With a sharp exhale through your nose you tried to concentrate on the space before you like you’d just done in the playset. Gradually the threads of multiple universes appeared in the air, shimmering in the overcast light of the day. This time there was a rush of blues and purples that came forward. You squinted, reaching two fingers tentatively out and trying to get a feel for a few threads of light. 

Maybe you needed to find somewhere new. Somewhere that They wouldn't easily think to find you. But you hated finding new worlds. You never knew what you would be walking into every time you jumped. It could’ve been another post-apocalyptic world, or a world completely covered in water, or even one covered in twenty feet of freezing cold snow. All you could hope to do was trust your instincts and hope that you would end up in a world similar to your Home. Because right now that's what you needed to find.

A noise not too far away cut through the silence. You froze instantly at the sound, your fingers holding onto a single thread as your eyes darted to the side. The hair on the back of your neck had risen just before the jarring, guttural, screeching noise that plagued your nightmares rang out through the trees nearby. The hair along your arms instantly rose next, a prickling feeling growing at the base of your skull.

Your jaw clenched as your heart rate began to rise again. Time was up. You needed to get out of here now. You didn't want to encounter one of those again, especially since you had nothing to fight it with. And you sure as shit would never manage to outrun it. 

As the terrifying, rasping growl cut through the air around you yet again, your experience in this world in the past told you exactly what that sound had meant. It was searching, probably having caught onto the fresh scent of the blood along your scraped hands. You’d been about to pull the thread of light between your fingers and jump in a panic–but then it disappeared. All of the colorful lights before you suddenly vanished in your growing panic.

"Shit," you whispered. 

That loud, rasping cry reverberated through the air again. Another spike of fear and adrenaline shot straight through you. 

It had gotten closer. 

As you turned, trying to remain calm so you could think clearly, you prepared to hide in the house behind you. But you’d only taken one careful step forward when you heard it. Something like a high-pitched shriek in response. Because there was a second one, and they were communicating with each other. And you knew what that sound meant.

They knew something was here. 

Pressing your lips tight together, you moved along the side of the house as quietly as you could, keeping one shoulder against the panels as you crept along. Your eyes were darting all over the place, a feeling of unease washing over you in the sudden, eerie silence that had fallen. You knew they hadn’t gone. You knew they were hunting for you, slowly honing in on the scent of your bleeding palms and the sound of your footsteps.

Carefully you stepped up the decaying back porch steps, taking each one at a time as you moved. On the third step the wood let out a loud creak and you flinched, sucking in your breath and holding it. A few seconds later you heard a low growl coming from a house over. 

If you didn’t get the hell out of here soon, you’d be dead in minutes.

Biting down on your tongue, you bolted up the last step and sprinted into the house. You barely had time to register the layout of the place when you entered, but your eyes spotted the kitchen before you ran straight towards it. Breathing a quiet sigh of relief when you saw the dust-covered knife block on the counter, you reached out and pulled out the biggest knife. You’d at least try to take them out before you went down, even if your count for killing intelligent zombies was only at one.

Turning back around, you wiped your bloody hand along the doorframe to the kitchen, smearing your blood along it in hopes to distract them. Afterwards, you bolted over to the space beside the fridge and far away from the doorway. Pressing yourself flush to the wall, you did your best to slow your panicked breaths. 

This was where you needed to be incredibly silent. The zombies in this world–rotters as the survivors here called them–were fast. They were also incredibly smart with a language they somehow understood between each other, one that had taken you a bit of time to learn. But their downfall was their eyesight. While they had amazing hearing and a decent sense of smell, they were almost entirely blind. As long as you could remain absolutely still and silent, you could technically hide from them–but you were worried that the blood on your hands might prove a problem.

It wasn’t long before you heard the back door of the house fly open with a rough bang as it slammed into the wall. Your eyes closed as you gripped the knife tighter in your trembling right hand. A wheezing sound came from the other room, gradually growing louder as the rotter made its way towards the kitchen. You could hear the floor creaking with each of its sluggish, uneven steps. A moment later you heard scratching just along the wall on the opposite side of the fridge. Swallowing hard, you held your breath. The rotter was in the kitchen now, drawn to the scent of the blood you’d wiped along the doorframe in an attempt to confuse it.

A guttural, clicking sound echoed through the kitchen as it took a step further inside. Your eyes flew open, your heart jumping into your throat as you saw the half-decayed thing standing not seven feet away from where you were hiding. Its head slowly swept the room, briefly pausing when its dead eyes focused along the side of the fridge where you were hiding. Could it hear how loud your heart was racing right now? Did it smell the scent of your blood in the air? Taste your fear in the sweat forming along your forehead?

Another high-pitched shriek came from somewhere just outside of the house and you fought the urge to jump in surprise. The animated corpse’s head snapped to the side as it registered the call. Apparently the other one outside had found something. 

Probably an animal, the poor fucking thing.

The rotter turned, darting out of the kitchen disturbingly fast. A few seconds later you heard the back door slamming against the wall again and you knew the thing left–for the moment, at least.

Releasing the breath you’d been holding, you tried to steady your hands. You needed to go now . Concentrating harder than you ever had before, you willed the lights to appear. It took you a few tries before they finally did, your fear probably the reason you were struggling to call them forth. With the only thought in your head a prayer that you didn’t land in a body of water, you yanked a blue thread of light in a rush and went barreling forward, your body feeling like it was being pulled from your navel this time. The familiar yet uncomfortable twisting of your insides commenced as you fell forward through lights and colors, feeling as if you were being momentarily squeezed through a small, tight space. 

And then you were sliding along your side roughly across more pavement, your eyes squeezed shut. It took you a moment to realize the knife you still held in your hand had sliced down the side of your arm when you’d fallen. Pain shot straight through you and you groaned before tossing the knife away from you. You hissed through your teeth, trying to push yourself upright along the pavement you had once again landed on.

“What the hell ?”

You paused on all fours, eyes going wide before your head whipped in the direction of the voice. Two young men were standing at the edge of what appeared to be an alleyway that you’d dropped into. One of them was visibly gaping at you, his long blonde hair reaching just past his shoulders. His own eyes were blown wide at the sight of you hunched over on the ground. Beside him, clutching onto one of his arms, was another man with shorter dark hair and a pair of dark glasses that seemed quite out of place considering how dark it already was outside. But then your eyes dropped down to the cane in his left hand and you quickly pieced it together–he was blind. So while he most likely hadn’t just witnessed you appear out of nowhere, it seemed his friend might have.

Cradling your bleeding arm against your body, you fell back on your ass and scuttled backwards along the pavement until your back hit a wall. This was not what you needed right now. You’d dealt with far too much already.

“Did you just–just fucking appear out of thin air?” the blonde asked in awe, still visibly gawking at you at the end of the alley. “Or did I somehow drink that much tonight?”

“You’re drunk,” you called back, latching onto the first thing he gave you. 

His eyes dropped down to where you were holding your arm before they shifted to the bloody knife on the ground. Beside him, you noticed his friend was quite intensely focused on you. The way he was staring at you was unsettling for someone who was blind and couldn't actually see you. It would have made you suspicious if you didn't know They only ever possessed those who weren’t vision impaired. 

“Whoa, hey, are you okay?” the blonde asked nervously. He pointed a finger at the knife on the ground. “Someone attack you? Or–”

“I’m fine,” you said firmly.

“You’re–you’re bleeding,” he pressed. “We should like, call an ambulance or something. Get you to a hospital–”

“No hospitals!” you snapped, shaking your head. “I don’t do hospitals.”

“She’s bleeding?” his friend asked curiously. 

“I said I’m fine ,” you growled. 

The blonde ignored you, turning and focusing on his friend. “Yeah, she’s got a cut down her arm,” he told him. “Maybe we should call the police?”

Using the wall for support, you pulled yourself up to your feet, hissing out a breath as you did. Your body was spent after everything. You needed rest. You didn’t even know how long you’d been going for with all the jumping between worlds you’d been doing. Time didn’t necessarily mean too much to you.

“I’m leaving,” you informed the pair. “Forget about me.”

Making your way down the alley towards them, you kept your bleeding arm cradled against your chest. You noticed the blonde shrink away from you as you neared, a look of unease on his face. He tried to pull his friend out of the way when he’d moved, but the dark haired man remained still, as if he was intentionally attempting to block your exit out of the alley.

“You’re injured, you should let us help you,” he said.

You glared back at him instantly, squaring your shoulders. “I said I’m fine. Back off,” you warned.

He didn’t move, his expression not even remotely wavering at the edge in your voice. And that only further irritated you.

“Let us help,” he offered calmly. “I’m quite good at stitching if your arm needs it. Just come with us back to our dorm and I can help you.”

"No," you growled, skirting around him.

A hand grabbed your shoulder and you immediately bristled at the unwanted contact, spinning on the spot and ripping your shoulder from his hold. You took a step back, placing a bit of distance between you and this stranger. He immediately raised his hand like he had meant no harm. Next to him, his blonde haired friend was openly staring at your bleeding arm, his lips slightly parted. You really did need to bandage it. 

"Just let me help you, please," the dark haired man pleaded, his tone more insistent. "You can leave right after if you want. But…we were planning to order some pizza. If you're hungry."

Your eyes narrowed further back at him, scoffing loudly despite the way your stomach growled at the thought of food. It had been a bit since you'd last eaten and you were definitely hungry after all that running and multiverse jumping. 

"I'm not some stray," you grumbled instead.

He shot you a placating smile, nodding his head slowly. "Of course, I wasn't trying to imply anything," he said gently. "But I mean, you are bleeding and my friend here said you just appeared out of thin air so–" he shrugged a shoulder casually, "–I am sort of curious now."

"Don't be," you replied quickly, taking another step back from the pair of them. "I'm not interesting."

"Well now I'm more interested," he teased, his lips pulling up higher at the corners.

You took another step back, heart rate accelerating before you inhaled a sharp breath, holding it and forcing yourself to calm back down. As if sensing he was only further making you want to run, the man took a cautious step towards you as if you really were a feral stray, the teasing expression quickly falling from his face.

"Please," he begged again. "Let us help. I just want to help."

"Why the hell do you so badly want to help a stranger?" you snapped, scanning him warily up and down.

"Let's just say I can sense when someone is in trouble," he answered softly. "And I just want to help. That's all. I swear." He extended a hand forward towards you very slowly as if he was afraid the gesture would startle you. "My name is Matthew, but you can call me Matt."

You flinched back from his outstretched hand, staring at it as if it would somehow suddenly brandish a knife at you. But of course no knife appeared in his large waiting palm. Your eyes carefully slid back up to his face, taking in what you could see of him with his glasses on. He was still smiling back at you, a genuine warmth on his face even if his friend seemed a bit suspicious beside him. 

You stood there for a moment, hesitantly studying the man before you. For some reason you found yourself wanting to trust this stranger. It felt like something was almost drawing you towards him, making you want to accept his help. Which wasn’t something that happened often with you. Swallowing hard, you tried to push down your fears. He had to be safe at least, because They didn't possess the blind. And you did occasionally need to trust people in these different worlds you found yourself in just to get by and survive.

That's all this will be , you told yourself. Just a one time acceptance of help. And if they turn out to be bad guys, I’ll just jump again. 

Carefully you reached out, placing your hand into his. He gripped yours firmly in response, entirely unaware of the amount of trust you had just given him.

"My name is Serena," you lied.

His head tilted curiously to the side for a moment, his brows twitching on his forehead briefly just above his glasses as his smile faltered a fraction–but you’d still caught the movement. And then he released your hand, smiling wider at you like that weird little moment hadn't happened.

"This is my friend Franklin, but I call him Foggy," he told you, gesturing a hand at the man beside him. 

Your attention returned to the blonde as you raised a brow at the name. He waved nervously back at you, a tight smile on his face. Your lip pulled up into something between a sneer and a smile. You didn't really do the making friends thing. 

"Let's get you back to our dorm," Matt said, grasping back onto his friend's arm. "It's only a few blocks from here. Then I can bandage your arm." 

Matt and Foggy continued past you on the sidewalk, the blonde leading his friend. With a resigned sigh you cautiously followed a few steps behind the pair, listening as Matt and Foggy chattered on over the sounds of the city you’d found yourself in. Though you certainly noticed the way Foggy kept shooting you uncomfortable glances over his shoulder when he thought you weren't looking.

Not like you could blame him. Your clothes were worn and you probably looked like a dead tired mess. Plus, you were dressed for summer in dirty clothes you hadn’t changed out of in days, and judging by the slight cool breeze brushing over your exposed skin, it felt more like early spring here. 

Keeping your distance behind the chatty pair, your eyes lingered on the back of Matt. You wondered why he’d been so insistent to help. You wondered even more why he kept trying to draw you into their conversation, especially when you only responded with a rude grunt. But if he minded your discourteous responses, he never showed it. 

Though on the entire walk back to their dorm you found yourself wondering one thing. Why was it that whenever you looked at this Matthew–who you’d just met–did you feel almost… safe with him? You'd never felt safe with anyone before. It was…odd.

[ghostly-penumbra]

Seven Ways to Summon the Ghost King

Chapter Six: Traditional Way, Part II: The Remix: Electric Boogaloo, Slumber Party Edition

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [here] [7]

Ao3

Summary: Class 1-A humours its resident goth...

... things go exactly as he planned.

- - -

A Hero’s life was a stressful one, even if you were still just a student. It was nice, to find kinship and support from people that got it, that sometimes had been there with you as you faced down the villains.

That is to say, the UA dorms had been a great idea, actually. 1-A managed to find the perfect balance between each other’s little idiosyncrasies pretty well, with only minor mishaps along the way.

This week’s’ “Fun Night” showed to be quite the example.

“Are we sure we’re gonna do this?” Asked Kaminari with a shaking voice as he passed the small candles for Todoroki to light up with a touch of his finger.

They were in their dorm’s common room, with the furniture pushed to the side to make space for the… temporal redecorations.

“Well, it is his turn to pick this week’s activity.” Yaoyorozu said reasonably, watching Tokoyami draw the summoning circle from memory without hesitation.

“Yeah! ‘Sides we all participated in your skit videos last week!” Mina told him as she skipped next to him. “So if our introverted classmates can appear and act in front of a camera, you can hold hands and chant the creepy verses!” She slung an arm over his shoulders and pulled him towards herself to whisper in his ear, “And it’s not like something’s gonna actually happen, so relax!” And with a conspiratory wink she shoved him off.

- - -

“YOU SAID NOTHING WAS GOING TO HAPPEN!”

“NOT NOW, KAMINARI!”

“How do we stop it?! It’s almost finished!”

“Someone bring Aizawa-sensei!”

“It’s too late.” Tokoyami announced calmly over the cacophony of his panicking classmates. His eyes were lit up with the reflection of the green fire on the candles, giving them a manic gleam “He is here.”

All the candles that Todoroki unsuccessfully tried to smother with his ice flared up at the same time, illuminating the scared faces of the heroes-to-be for a second, and then diminished back to small embers, making the biggest source of light in the room the pair of flames that hovered in place atop the summoning circle, until these two blinked out… and then back on

“If this is another cult seeking immortality…” A voice said a hundred times at the same time, and even Todoroki’s resistance to the cold was useless against the chill that ran down their backs.

Bakugo would remember that Midoriya moved first, activating his quirk and launching himself at the dark figure feet first in a kick aimed to the face.

The person –being?– caught Midoriya by the ankle and easily redirected him to skid along the floor with his momentum. They –it?– dodged Kirishima’s hardened fists with the ease of a dancer, sidestepped a rising block of ice and broke it into small flakes of dust. Bakugo had him in the face with a good explosion and –bright toxic green eyes that bore into his soul as he illuminated them, making him feel so smallweakuseless– next he knew he was crashing against stupid fucking Deku, who chose that fucking moment to have his second wind.

“That’s enough.” The being said, and the lights came back on. (He couldn’t be older than any of them. He just couldn’t!)

The class stopped in their tracks at the sight of him, except for Iida who had already ignited his engines and was just as easily redirected back towards his friends, who held him quickly as he abruptly stopped his quirk.

“A bunch of teenagers, why not.” The little boy face palmed after looking at them.

“Hey, that’s rude!” Ashido complained, being the first one to step up with no intentions of attacking.

“Well, forgive me for not lying to spare your feelings after being summoned against my will in the middle of a power nap.

“But let me guess,” he pinched the bridge of his nose and rested his elbow on his other palm, “you somehow found an ancient ritual to summon one of the most powerful beings there are –which, by the way, I made sure to get rid of- the rituals! Any book that had it. Jeez, I didn’t get rid of all the powerful beings, don’t give me these faces.”

The students looked at each other; had it been that they all misunderstood the –boy’s– words and jumped to the same gruesome conclusion, or had he just been bad at wording?

“Anyway, you kids somehow found the only source for how to summon an eldritch abomination, thought it would be a fun bonding activity,” an awkward glance at each other, “and didn’t stop to think, just for a second, that perhaps you shouldn’t be messing with things you don’t understand?”

The class kept silent, most of them staring ashamed at their feet, some even scuffing the floor with them.

“It was Tokoyami’s idea!” Kaminari cried, trying to hide behind Kirishima. “He was the one to do it all!”

“Kaminari!” Several of his classmates cried out in offense at such coward snitching.

“Hey!” The ghost boy called, bringing everyone’s attention back to him. He had stopped hovering, rather planting both feet on the ground. “Alright, listen. I’m not mad at you kids, but this is something you shouldn’t be meddling in just for fun. And not only that, but I made sure no way to summon me remained in this plane of existence, so I need to know how you did it, to make sure you didn’t do something dumber than summoning me.” With his hands on his hips and that I-can’t-believe-I-have-to-deal-with-this face, the self-proclaimed eldritch abomination looked more like an annoyed (if short) senpai correcting his kohais.

“It was not hubris nor naïveté that made me desire to summon you, King of Ghosts, Liminal God, Harbringer of-” Tokoyami’s greeting was cut short as said liminal god –and didn’t that make some eyes widen in shock and wariness– held up a hand to stop him.

“Two titles are more than enough, buddy. Y’all can call me Phantom.”

That sounded like such a simple hero name, that the students easily accepted it. Phantom: The Ghost King Hero.

“As you wish, Phantom.” The goth corrected himself with a grave nod. “As I said, I did not arrange for your summoning out of hubris or ingenuity, for you see, we are in the dark path of Heroism, where we will face countless more encounters with horror, destruction, and death, and so I sought you out, so you may tell my friends of the kindness of leaving this world.”

His classmates stared at Tokoyami after his solemn words; some with apprehension, others with growing understanding. Iida adjusted his glasses and breathed in deeply, preparing to launch himself into a rant speech about how they were thankful for his consideration but he should please refrain himself from things like this, when the bird-headed boy spoke again.

“And if you could please sign this for me, I would be in your debt.” The boy held out a black, leather-bound journal with a black pen adorned with a plastic skull hanging from the bookmark.

There was a long, awkward beat of silence until –unsurprisingly– Bakugo exploded.

“YOU FUCKING SUMMONED A FUCKING DEATH GOD JUST TO GET A SHITTY AUTOGRAPH?!”

The feeling was shared by the rest of the class, as they showed their discontent all at the same time.

Tokoyami ignored them, though, keeping his wide, hopeful –and, this was a bit worrying– worshipping eyes on Phantom, until he finally relented.

“Alright, kids, listen up!” Phantom said, commanding the attention back to himself. He took the journal from the bird-headed boy and flipped the pages until he found a blank one. “Gosh, this brings me memories…” He mumbled, scribbling down, before continuing for the class. “Rule Number Two of Interacting With Paranormal Slash Mystical Slash Magical Slash Et Cetera Et Cetera Et Cetera, never make open-ended deals, ever, this includes but is not limited to: contracts, handshakes lood oaths, spit oaths, fist bumps, promises, spoken words –you get the gist. Now, what did you friend say to me?”

The teenagers looked at each other in awkward silence but, being teenagers, they were easily reverted to their ‘we’re in a lecture in class mode, and the brave soul of Yaoyorozu raised her hand.

“Tokoyami-kun said that he would be in your debs in exchange of an autograph.”

“And there was truth and intent to his words, so now that I’ve fulfilled his request…” He let the sentence open as he showed the journal where it now had a stylized D with a smaller P within it.

The class looked at their friend with mixed feelings of concern, irritation, and fear.

“You could ask anything from him.” A brave soul finally answered.

Tokoyami didn’t seem to care what might be asked of him, as he stared almost reverently at the journal now back in his hands. That wouldn’t do.

“Well then,” Phantom began, placing his hands on his hips, ready to deal out a detention, “your part of the deal will be that you never ever again make such a fool open-ended deal with anyone! No ghost, monster, creature, oni, Higher Being™, angel, god, God, demon, or anything else I may have forgotten. Not your parents, not your relatives, classmates not your teachers or principal, not random people on the street, not children, not the government. No one, ever.” He finished sternly as Tokoyami nodded along.

“That…! Is actually really kind of you, Phantom-san.” Iida saod thoughtfully.

“The Lord of Cessation is known for his kindness and fairness.” Tokoyami told them, clutching the journal to his chest when he noticed Bakugo’s slightly-more-murderous-than-normal expression still in place.

“Yes, I’m cool, I know, whatever.” Phantom was massaging his temples breathing deep and slow. “Alright! He began anew, now with some cheer. “I haven’t’ been to the Living World for anything other than work in over a century and a half, so, what’s good in video games these days?” He asked with a smile finally acting like the teen he was when he died.

“I mean the controls are different, but a fighting game is a fighting game, so no biggie.”

“If you want you can pick All Might to make it more even!”

There were very heated protests (from two very specific boys) as everyone surrounded the dorm’s gaming centre so Phantom said “Don’t worry, I’m my own character.” Before merging with the console and appearing on the screen, unleashing chaos among class 1-A once again.

- - -

“So you were born before the Dawn of Quirks? What was it like?” Midoriya asked, distractedly losing in Hero Cart as he kept looking at Phantom next to him.

“Eh, I can’t really say it was much different. Y’all seem to have gotten… stuck in time, in a way. Like, I understand a lot of stuff like time and work and resources go to make accommodations for mutations and stuff which is great, don’t get me wrong, but one would have thought that over two hundred years in the future, at least clothes would be different.

“And for what the dead say, some of those ‘accommodations’ are… doubtful, to say the least. And don’t get me started in social issues.” He quickly mumbled with his mouth in a thin line. “So, overall, it was pretty similar. It may have to do with the fact that I was born in another dimension.”

He kept his focus on the game. So, if Phantom noticed all of their shocked faces and stunned silence, he didn’t show it.

- - -

“D’you guys have DOOMED?” Phantom asked as he leaned against the couch from his place on the floor, watching as Mina ruthlessly obliterated Sero in Dance, Dance Revolution!

“What’s DOOMED?” Ashido asked, not skipping a step as Sero stumbled with the increasing speed of the game.

All the lights went out and the room’s temperature dropped, making Tsuyu swoon and the rest of the class to cry in alarm or fall into battle stances.

“The DOOMED devs didn’t release the game’s code for it to become memetic, only to be completely ignored by some- futurelings from another dimension!”

The lights returned, and the TV they were playing in turned back on; the cold ebbed out slowly, not as abrupt as it had come, and Tsuyu slowly began to stir helped by the proximity of Todoroki’s left side.

“Alright, kiddos! I hope you’re interested in coding, ‘cause I know by heart and tonight, we make history!”

- - +

Phantom typed away without thinking it twice, confident, whilst the class watched and Midoriya took notes just as fast, transcribing on his notebook what Phantom put in the computer.

Kyoka leaned against Tokoyami’s side as they saw, well, history. “This is the best night ever. Do you have any other interesting being in your journal? Possibly someone who liked karaoke?”

“Just so y’all know!” Phantom told them cheerily, spinning his neck 180º degrees as his hands kept typing. “I know I’m cool and a chill guy to hang out with, but that’s ‘cause I was human and died at fourteen! Most beings that can be summoned hate being summoned. Myself included, bus, as I said, I’m rather cool!”

A chill ran down the class’ back again, and all of them –minus Midoriya, who kept on writing– turned to look at the resident goths.

“… I shall abstain from more summonings, Lord Phantom.” Tokoyami conceded, and Dark Shadow cooed at him.

“There’s a good boy!” Phantom said brightly, returning to his coding.

“Let’s just do regular karaoke next week, right, guys?”

“Alright, students!” Phantom called them. “Get ready to get schooled!”

- - -

[zharizard666]

I am so sorry for the confusion. I was just so in shock when I found out about this. I was actually talking about winter melona. She worked with that lord Leone guy and drew nsfw of ness and Lucas for one of his fan fictions and when I saw it I was so upset finding out people would want to make something so cute so dirty. I don’t know if this is true but I also heard she drew Mpreg of Lucas and claus and I really hope that’s not true.

Nah its all good.

I don't really associate with nsfw accounts because that content isn't my cup of tea, so I don't find that stuff around either. Hearing about people drawing that stuff in the middle of 2024 is shocking though.

Have a nice week anon ✌️✨

EDIT:

I just remembered who WinterMelons is. Y'all coming for people who drew shit in the early 2010s, the edgy 2010s, are insufferable. Don't ever send me stuff like this again, I dislike people like you.

This is the only polarizing thing I'm deciding to share with y'all: You need to let go, you need to live in the fucking present, you need to get better hobbies.

Being the internet morale police doesn't make you great, it gives you negative aura. It makes you the target of an avoiding game.

I don't know how to make this clearer, acting this way is so fucking abhorrent. You can be 100% right and I'll still dislike you.

None of y'all are doing these call-outs because you care, you just wanna be the one who "did things right" first.

The block button exists, turning off your phone exists, for fucks sake: shunning is a thing.

You hate something someone's doing? But it's not actively harming anyone, it's just immoral? We all can do like the forum era of the internet and actively ignore that person until they go away. We can report the account of that individual collectively too, without making a fucking circus out of it.

Are they doing something actually fucking illegal? Call the authorities! It's not our job to punish criminals, IT'S THE POLICE JOB.

You're so desperate to point and shame people you didn't even CHECK if the person I was defending was the one you actively hate. How is their URL anywhere close to WinterMelons???

So I retract my good wishes, begone. Don't text me, don't tag me, don't message me, don't even think about me when y'all are playing your witch-hunt game.

You said you were surprised to find nsfw art in nsfw fanfiction. Are you reading what you just wrote?

You can be surprised all you want about who drew that is, but be for real: what the hell were y'all doing looking up nsfw fanfiction when you don't like it. Do y'all hate-watch stuff? Are y'all that bored?

I didn't know about that because I DIDN'T ENGAGE WITH IT.

See how your life is easier when you don't engage with awful shit? You wanna stop seeing shit in your fandom? Then don't dip your hands in it.

[kevin--of-desert-bluffs]

Writetober/Jotober

Hiya! I’ll be drabbling a short bit of WTNV fanfic based on the Inktober prompts but turning them into writetober/jotober things instead! Block #writetober and #jotober if you don’t wanna see them!

Personal rules:

No less than 500 words featuring the prompt word or eluding to it. No more than 1000 words. Just write what comes to me and don’t go back and edit. Day 14: Roam Character focus: Lauren Mallard

Just a short while ago Lauren Mallard had had everything. She had risen the ranks of StrexCorp at an exponential rate. Of course she had. She'd given her entire life to StrexCorp. She'd taken on the viciously thankless job of handling Kevin - he'd resisted them till the very last moment and that made him dangerous even without his seemingly high ranking within a religion that held power and sway over Desert Bluffs like no other.

She put up with his passive-aggression and only enjoyed retraining him a little - just a little. Still she'd had her sights set higher. Now she could barely stand to lift her head. There suns here were numbing. Suns. Plural.

The Old Oak Door had opened in front of her and Lauren had jumped through. The armed child militia had not followed. Children. Urgh.

Lauren looked around. She had no idea where she was. If not for the two suns she would never have guessed that she wasn't in the same desert any more. Somewhere in the distance there was a mountain and on top of that mountain there was a light. Something told her to keep away from it. Lauren turned and started to hobble forward again.

She was nearing exhaustion. She didn't know where she was going. She only knew that she must keep moving. Stopping for too long would surely kill her. Bake her in the sun.

Night Vale…what a waste of a town. They could have made so much money. Now she would have killed just for a chance to be back in Desert Bluffs. Those people had been much easier to control and make money off of. Well except for Kevin. What a pain of a man. She hoped he was roaming around here too, just as lost and helpless as she was.

Helpless? No. She couldn't be helpless. She couldn't afford to be helpless. Lauren arched her back and threw her face into the glare of the sun, eyes closed, mouth stretched in a grim defiant smile. She was not helpless. Look how confident she was. Look how she could Smile.

Even with her eyes closed they began to stream the moisture running in rivulets down her cheeks and making her eyeballs throb. Still she beamed and when she turned away she did so slowly. Lights danced in her eyes. Lauren took another step, shook, continued to move. She bit into her lower lip until blood gushed down her chin. The metallic taste and warmth kept her from completely spiralling.

Against all the strong impulses she was experiencing which told her to avoid this place, Lauren turned towards the moutain and started to head directly for it. It had been weeks (she thought) and she was still circling the mountain. It was time to discover what was making that light. It was time to take control again.

Whatever was up there would be hers. She would find a way out and she would restart Strex herself if she had to.

[catboyloon]

PINNED POST READ THIS HELLO HI

THIS IS A NSFW BLOG. THEREFORE 18+!!!! so if you're a minor or an ageless blog either get the fuck out or block this blog. or i will block YOU on sight. nothing personal its just for the safety of us both.

also i'm 18, my bday is in septummyber- i mean september. also some weight info:

starting weight: 133lbs current weight: 137.4lbs goal weight: more and more until it's a lot harder to get up, then maaaybe i'll stop :3

anyway. rest my dni is the same as my main blog, no proshippers (i hate incest!! :D and pedophilia!! i hate them both!!!) no xenophobes or bigots etc etc you get the idea.

also this should go without saying but their body, their choice. respect people even if they're hot or not hot. if someone wants to lose weight, let them. if someone doesnt wanna do kink anymore, respect that. don't be a creep. don't fetizhize and objectify random people just because their body appeals to a kink you have.

id prefer if people don't mention/say my main blog on here, just feels like i should keep them separate but if you're here, you can ask me privately for it or you already know my main soooo

the rest of this is optional but will probably be useful. have fun but also i like asks and talking so feel free to hit me up

anyway things you will likely see here:

Inflation (belly & body, also SAFE/NON-FATAL popping. maybe some breast/ass/etc expansion but mainly tums & their whole bods. also like, being inflated with anything almost. air, water, just pump me man make me Round and Full)

Weight gain/feedism (feeding/eating a lot, rapidly gaining weight, forcefeeding, just being fat as fuck as a sex thing)

Burping/hiccups (burps are hot as fuck to me and hiccups are cute)

other things that i'm not into but can't go on my main because they're nsfw; usually just things i find really funny or interesting. like weird kinks that i'm not into (if not turn me off)

also only gonna tag stuff i'm not into as "#not my thing but still cool" so. im not gonna organize THAT much for reblogging things, sorry

things you likely will not see:

pregnancy (not into it)

vore (i don't think i'm into it but it might be good I DON'T KNOW. but i mainly am not into it)

farting (actual turn off sorry)

anything permanent in a forced way (but "permanent" as in "they're choosing to keep themselves like this" is fine)

noncon/dubious consent (I think consent is hot because i mean. the fact they actually WANT something makes them getting it hotter i think. free use can be hot but i think that's different)

oviposition/eggs i think

uneven/specific bodypart expansion (e.g. no really huge feet or lips or anything)

head inflation/uber (i think the puffy eyes are scary. sorry)

unsafe/fatal/permanent popping (also kinda scary but also like. why would you want that)

healthplay/anything fatal at all (i think the words morbidly obese are hot but i 1. do not believe that the fat itself causes health issues but rather your diet does that, and 2. i would rather actually not have health issues from being fat. i just wanna take up a room then a house then a parking lot with my flab man i don't wanna do that in a hospital room)

as for the tags!

crrk.txt for text posts/just me talking, may not always be kinky crrk.png for art i post to here not my thing but still cool for anything nsfw i reblog to here that i'm not into (so, not inflation or fat) but find neat anyway tummy tuesday for, well, what do you think bellypix for, obviously, pics i take of my tummy :3 irl for anything irl, like a video of me blowing up like the balloon i am afterdark-shitposts for nsfw memes/shitposts i make, not always made to be horny but always nsfw (or too suggestive for my main) also probably gonna tag stuff with a video or audio as "video"/"videos" and "audio" like my main. same for asks, "asks" and "anon asks" just for sorting

okay that's it. enough yapping from me, anyway like my main blog you can see when this was last edited by looking in the tags

[jake-kiszkas-smirk]

Here Comes the Sun

Danny Wagner X Fem OC X Josh Kiszka

This is a series that I started a long time ago on wattpad. I had planned on never finishing it but have decided to revisit it. I am using most of what I had originally written and editing a few parts as I go. The first half of this fic will be in 'OC' format, but the second half will be written in 'Y/n' format. Warnings will be chapter specific so PLEASE read them every time. Please be gentle, this is when I first started writing fics lol

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Penetrative Sex, drinking.

I looked in the mirror at the outfit I had picked out for the party that I didn't want to go to. I had chosen a simple black dress with small white floral print on it that ended mid-thigh. It was a little short for my taste, but Lucas had assured me I needed to stop being so 'prude' especially when heading to a frat party. I slipped on my favorite platform vans, they weren't extremely tall, just an inch and a half or so. My bedroom door swung open,

"You are absolutely not wearing your hair like that Rose." he said, coming over and taking down my messy bun, grabbing the curling iron. He separated my hair and started putting in loose curls.

"Why do you even want me to go to this party, you're just going to see that guy you're interested in and leave me to fend for myself." I said as I crossed my arms in the mirror. Lucas was my best friend since high school, and now we went to the same college and had gotten an apartment together.

"Ok, I will admit that I am going to see him. But I will check on you multiple times during the party I promise. Can you try and have some fun? You've been pouting about failing that midterm all day." He said, turning off the curling iron and tousling my hair slightly,

"Yeah, because I thought it was really good, I just don't understand how I failed..." I said, looking down at my fingers as they toyed with the hem of my dress.

"Your grades are so good that it won't even matter. Please just get drunk tonight and have some fun, I can be DD if you want?" He said as he walked out of the room,

"You know that never works, lets just take an uber or something." I said, grabbing a book and shoving it into my bag.

"Ok, fair point, you know I'm not the responsible one." He said as we both laughed. We got in our uber and headed to the party. We pulled up and I instantly started to get nervous, there was so many people there, and I knew chances were that I wouldn't know anyone. Lucas and I were completely different people, he walked in and everyone instantly smiled and waved, greeting him. He was always the most confident person in the room, I craved that kind of confidence.

He quickly disappeared into a sea of people. I looked around searching for a free seat or maybe someone I would know. I had no luck, there were people everywhere and the thumping of the bass was deafening. I started squeezing my way through the crowd and went up the stairs. I found a spot on the ground sitting against the railing and got out my book. I sat criss cross with my book sitting in my lap, squinting to read since it was kind of dark. Every once in a while a passerby would make a snide comment and I'd simply flip them off as they walked by. This was a regular occurrence, I never left home without a book. I had gotten through a couple of chapters, being an avid reader since I was little had made it easy to block out the background noise. I was in the middle of turning the page when I suddenly felt pain in my knee as someone tripped over me,

"Hey wat-" I started to shout, expecting them to keep walking, but I was cut off when I felt a large but gentle hand on my knee,

"I am so sorry, I didn't even see you," He said quickly, crouching down next to me. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine," I said as I shifted in my spot, causing him to remove his hand from my knee nervously.

"Are you...reading? At a party?" He asked with a confused smile, still crouched in front of me.

"Yes, this isn't really my scene." I said softly as I looked back down to my book. He nodded and sat next to me on the floor, his honey brown eyes looking down to my book again,

"So, what are you reading?" he was genuinely curious as far as I could tell, not trying to taunt me. He sat with his legs out in front of him, his hands clasped together in his lap as he waited for an answer. I realized quickly that I was staring at his beautiful long dark hair and sharp jawline. When I blinked out of it I realized he was looking at me expectantly,

"It's just a collection of Edgar Allen Poe poems. I have read them all before, but I just really like his work." I replied but kept my eyes on my book.

"Interesting, so why are you here if this isn't your scene?" He questioned, raising a brow

"Well, I failed my midterm and have been pouting about it all day apparently, so my roommate insisted I come have fun and get drunk tonight."

"There you are!" I heard as a thin figure made it's way up the steps. He stumbled up the last step and his drink tipped, spilling on my book as he hovered over the guy next to me. I jerked it away but it was too late and the pages were soaked. I grabbed the bottom of my dress and started frantically blotting the pages,

"Oh shit my bad," The thin guy said as I glared up at him.

"Sam, what do you need?" The guy next to you asked

"They are playing beer pong and I want to play," He said loudly,

"Beer pong sounds like a great idea, but I actually already have a partner." He said plainly,

"What who?" Sam asked, almost offended

"She's right here." He nudged me with an elbow, wiggling his eyebrows,

"What? I- me?" I asked shocked, bringing my hand to my chest,

"Yeah, you said you were supposed to get drunk and have fun. Let's make that happen." he smiled as he stood up, reaching his hand down to me. I hesitated for a moment, guys like him didn't talk to me, was this really happening? "You coming?" That gentle voice repeated. I snapped out of it and took his hand, standing up and straightening out my dress.

"I guess I will just find another partner then." Sam mumbled as he walked off. We made our way downstairs and I followed his broad shoulders through the crowd. It occurred to me that I didn't even know his name. We got to the table, the man whose name I had gathered as Sam standing at the other side with a girl I didn't recognize.

"This should be easy, Sam is already drunk" He whispered in my ear with a grin, I giggled and nodded my head, my cheeks warming at his proximity.

"Danny, you go first." Sam said. So Danny was his name. Danny, I thought as I glanced over at him, biting his bottom lip as he concentrated on throwing the ball to the other side of table. I was staring again as my eyes lingered on his every move. I was drawn from my thoughts as Sam burst into laughter when Danny missed his shot. We continued the game until Sam could barely stand and the rest of us were very intoxicated as well. Danny turned to me as Sam walked off, his face flushed and his eyes red.

"You want to go get some fresh air?" He asked, leaning down so I could hear him. He was much taller than me, his hair brushing your shoulder as he spoke. I nodded and was surprised when he grabbed my hand and began leading me through the house. For whatever reason, I let it happen and walked behind him.

"Danny!" I heard someone shout, he turned to look, "Sammy is puking in the sink again!"

"Ugh," Danny groaned, "I'll be right back." He said as he walked off towards the bathroom. Suddenly alone in a crowd of people I started to feel very overwhelmed, so I tried to make my way outside. There were people crowded outside on the deck as well, I tried to walk past to get to a more open space. The alcohol in my system was starting to make me feel hot, and I needed air. I attempted to shuffled past people who were sitting down when I lost my balance and fell back into someone's lap. My eyes got wide and I looked to their face,

"I am so sorry" I slurred, but was met with dusty blonde curls and a toothy smile,

"No worries, I'd never complain about a beautiful woman literally falling into my lap" He said smoothly, I blushed and tried to stand but fell right back into his lap. "Are you ok?" He asked sweetly,

"Yeah, I just think I drank too much" I giggled, "I'm a lightweight"

"Ah, well here you go, drink some of this," He said as he handed me a water bottle. I took it and started to drink. I turned back to look at him and stared at him shamelessly, watching his adams apple bob as he swallowed his beer,

"You are so pretty." I said abruptly, liquid courage betraying me. You'd never openly compliment a person as pretty as him that boldly sober. His cheeks turned a shade of pink as he grinned at me,

"You think so?" He asked as he put his hand on my thigh. My eyes looked over his face, landing on his lips as I simply nodded. They were glossy from him licking over them after swallowing his beer. "What is your name?"

"Rose," I replied, eyes flickering back to his,

"Rose," He paused, leaning forward to my ear, "Would you like to go somewhere that I can, get to know you better" I knew what he was suggesting and I was just tipsy enough at this point to say yes. It had been a while and this was perfect, a no strings attached one night stand. I wasn't interested in being with anyone seeing as I wanted to focus on school. I nodded as I stood up, swaying a bit but feeling sober enough to be confident in my decision. He stood up and once again, a handsome man was taking my hand and leading me through a crowd. We came to the bathroom downstairs and knocked,

"Occupied!" I heard a familiar voice say, but I couldn't place it. I then followed him upstairs, we got to another bathroom and I followed him inside. As soon as I closed the door and turned around my back was pressed against it, his body pressed to mine. He started kissing at my neck and then pulled away,

"Is this ok?" He asked, his hands on my hips as his eyes scanned my face,

"Yes," I said as I reached behind his neck and pulled his lips to mine, my tongue slipping into his mouth and his into mine. The kisses were sloppy and full of lust. They traveled down my neck as his hands slid under my dress, gripping my ass. I could feel myself growing wetter by the second as he sucked at that spot right below my ear. I rubbed my thighs together trying to get any kind of friction I could. He noticed and moved his hand from my ass to the front of my panties. With his body flush against mine I could feel his hard-on pressing into my thigh.

He looked to me to once again get permission, I nodded breathlessly as he slid his hand down my abdomen, slipping under my panties until he got to my clit. He rubbed slow circles, causing me to moan quietly, not wanting people outside to hear me. He bit his bottom lip as he watched me crumble under his touch. He slid his fingers through my slit, spreading my wetness with a smirk on his face,

"Are you ready for me?" He whispered as he nibbled on my ear, his hand still working at my throbbing clit.

"Yes, yes please." I whined. He stepped back and pulled a condom out of his wallet before dropping his pants, his hard cock springing free. He slipped the condom on and walked back over to me, pulling me back into a series of kisses. We moved to where my back as against the sink, but he grabbed my hips, flipping me around. My ass was pressed against his hips, his erection rutting against me as I leaned forward over the sink. He grabbed the bottom of my dress and pulled it up to my waist, pulling my panties down and letting them fall down my legs to the ground. He wrapped his hand around his length, tapping it against my core as a soft grunt left his mouth. I reached around and grabbed his cock, pumping it a few times before lining it up with my entrance,

"Impatient are we?" He asked in a gravely voice, but you could see his smirk in the mirror.

"Yes, just fuck me already" I pleaded, causing him to huff a laugh. He finally pressed into me, starting his movements off slow. I moaned, head falling forward at the glorious stretch I was feeling. He stayed slow for only a moment, then he was speeding up until he was slamming into me. I was sure I'd have bruises on my thighs from the counter, but I didn't mind. I gripped the edge of the marble countertop, knuckles turning white as I got closer and closer to the edge with every thrust. The soft grunts and quiet moans leaving his lips mixed with mine, filling the room. Even the noises he made were pretty, I thought to myself. I felt the knot in my stomach forming, so I reached down to touch myself but he grabbed my hand and stopped me, replacing it with his hand.

That was all it took, my moans grew louder as I came around him. His thrust grew sloppy, telling me he was probably close. He then pressed deep into me, his fingertips digging into my hips as I felt him twitch inside me.

After coming down from his high he stepped back, taking the condom off before tying it and tossing it in the trash. I reached down and pulled my panties back up and straightened out my dress, smoothing out my disheveled hair in the mirror.

I was suddenly feeling painfully sober, and feeling more shy and timid. Neither of us spoke as we had both got dressed and caught our breath.

"Would you like to join me for the rest of the party?" he asked, opening the door and motioning back downstairs,

"I actually think I'm heading out," I said, bashfully putting my hair behind my ear.

"Alright, well it was really, really nice to meet you Rose." He said with a wink, kissing my cheek before taking off down the stairs. I blushed as I pressed my fingers where he had kissed my cheek, I couldn't believe I had just done that.

"Rose Cameron." I turned on my heels to see Lucas standing in the hallway, "What on earth were you doing in that bathroom?" He smiled knowingly as he raised a brow.

"You told me you wanted me to have fun," I laughed, as I sauntered over to him.

"I'm so proud of you! You little slut, you." He said as he nudged me. I punched his shoulder as we walked down the stairs,

"Oh shut up, are you ready to leave or not?" I asked

"Yeah, I've been looking for you. I already got an uber, it's almost here." He replied.

"Alright, lets head outside." I said as we walked through the crowd. We stepped out the door and I could see a few cars parked in the road with lights on. Lucas pointed out the one that was for us, and we started walking towards it when I heard that same familiar voice,

"There you are, leaving already?" I halted to see Danny standing next to a car, Sam sitting in the passenger seat with the door open.

"I am actually, my friend is ready to leave." I said, "It was great meeting you though Danny," I started to walk away,

"Wait," He said turning and digging in his car. I saw him open a sharpie and start writing on something, "Here, call me?" he jogged over and handed me a piece of wood.

"Did you just give me your number on a drumstick?" I asked as I held it up, grinning.

"I didn't have any paper," He shrugged, laughing softly, "And I have plenty of those"

"You're a drummer I assume?"

"You'd assume correctly," He said as he rubbed the back of his neck,

"You any good?" I asked in a teasing tone,

"I'm alright" He shrugged, a half grin on his face

"He's fucking amazing don't let him lie to you!" Sam yelled from the other side of the car, coaxing a roll of his eyes and laugh from Danny.

"Well, I have to get going," I said as I motioned to Lucas who was yelling at me to hurry from the uber. I started to walk towards the car,

"Wait! Whats your name?" He shouted as I got into the car,

"Rose!" I shouted back

"Have a good night, Rose," He shouted with a smile and wave.

[enterpris]

An Education in Attraction, Chapter 18

Pairing: Reader x Gojo

Summary: It’s spring when you start your Master’s degree. As the flowers and leaves unfold, so too do your feeling for Gojo

Warnings: romance, no condom, v*ginal sex, FLUFF

Previous Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 16.5  17

Ao3: PlaidSparrow

The library glows with fluorescent lights and the warmth of heaters running. There's a few other students reading in the annex, but for the most part people are out and about today. You skim the questions in your document, reviewing the spacing you had meticulously input between each question, ensuring that the instructions in each section are clear and direct, and that the rows of possible multiple choice answers are perfectly aligned. 

You switch to the other tab. The corresponding answer sheet is just as neat and thorough from your hours of painstaking work outlining example answers and partial credit rubrics. At least the multiple choice key had been relatively quick to build. 

Although the example test isn’t due until the end of break, with how much time you’ve spent editing and reviewing, there can’t be many more changes you can make to improve on what you’ve done already. Plus, you’d like to enjoy the night without thinking of an assignment hanging over your head. With one final scan of the assignment outline, you confidently upload the document and hit submit. 

You shrug on your coat and bundle on the soft scarf on top before heading out. The blustery day feels even more frigid and gray outside after the near stuffy heat inside the library. You start at a brisk pace across campus. 

Even though it is cold, Tokyo in December may be your favorite time of year. The sky is gray with clouds, the late afternoon sun breaking through every so often to flare across the ground. Snow flutters between the buildings and across the frosty lawns, but the movement keeps you warm as you trek across the university grounds. 

You can’t keep the smile from your face as you approach the metro station and hop on.

Christmas Eve is the most romantic day of the year, and for the first time you have someone to spend it with. 

Just a few weeks ago, you’d celebrated Satoru’s birthday quietly, the two of you and a cake from his favorite bakery, (because apparently he eats enough sweets to have a favorite). Birthdays in Japan are usually small affairs and usually spent with family or closest friends, and he wanted to spend his time with you.

You exit the train to make a quick stop before heading to Satoru's apartment- the city is alive and beautiful. Many couples are out, on their way to fancy dinners or to walk amongst the city lights. When the sun sets, entire street blocks are radiant with lights that hang from the trees that line nearly every street.

While the holiday is celebrated differently here than your home, seeing everyone else so cheerful and excited fills your heart with a joy that can only happen during the holidays. 

You had predicted having to wait to pick up your box, and there is a short line at the storefront. You check your phone, still plenty of time, and pick up your box quickly. 

When you jump back onto the metro with your parcel, you just have to ride a couple more stops. Small flurries still wisp through the air when you exit the train and begin the short walk to Satoru’s apartment, the sun nearly set. Instead of going out or ordering fried chicken, he’d insisted on having you over for a chill home date to relax. 

As you approach, you can see Gojo is already waiting outside. His coat is nearly too short for his long legs, but his face lights up when he sees you approach, peeking over his glasses. You greet him warmly and he hurries you towards the entrance. 

Even though your walk was short, tension melts out of your body when you step into the warm foyer of the building. 

“You get it done?” Satoru asks as you step into the elevator.

“Yup! Finished and turned in. I didn’t want to worry about it the rest of the week.”

“Can’t believe we have a winter break assignment, who does that?” he complains. 

“It wasn’t that bad, if I got it done in a couple hours it’ll be nothing for you.” 

“It’s the principle, we should get at least some time off.”

He huffs as he unlocks the door and lets you in. Since he hasn’t been away traveling so much recently, the space has become more and more lived in- several pairs of shoes kicked off at the door, a couple books sprawled out on the low table near the couch. Maybe you’re just more comfortable existing in his space. 

You privately agree with Gojo about the winter assignment, even your students at the Eikaiwa school have a complete week off for the holidays, but the demands are great in a Graduate program. After next year, you’ll never have to worry about assignments over breaks, just grading them afterwards.  

You set down the parcel and your bag and smile at the thought of your students. When you do reconvene after the break, you’ve prepared a cultural lesson on how different English speaking countries celebrate the holidays. 

“So I made dinner, not sure how it turned out.”

As much as you hate to admit it, in your time together you’ve yet to find something Satoru doesn’t excel at. He seems naturally good at everything. The apartment smells delicious and you can see multiple pans steaming on the stovetop.

“It looks good! You didn’t have to do everything yourself though,” you reply. 

“I think it needs more time to reduce down, wanna take a walk?”

While you don’t relish going back out in the cold, you grew up looking at lights on Christmas, and Tokyo does have some beautiful decorations. 

“That could be nice.”

Before your warmed through you're back out in the early evening. The city was beautiful earlier, but the multi-colored lights and trees are truly magnificent in the dark of night. Different sections of the city are known for their particular displays, and the Tokyo Skytree is close enough to Satoru’s apartment that you can walk there. 

The air is crisp and chill on your face, but the excitement of the night keeps you warm. Gojo slows his long strides to walk alongside you and you slow down to take in 

It’s a dream of a night, a true winter wonderland in the heart of the biggest city in the world. The needle shoots into the sky and shimmers with the rainbow of colors. When you turn to face Satoru, the luminescence is reflected in his eyes a hundredfold. The warm golden glow from fairy lights on the street color his face.

“It’s beautiful. All the lights always remind me of back home.”

“It looks like this?”

That makes you laugh. “No, not quite. But Christmas was always really special. I like having a piece of that here.”

He looks back around at the decorations strung up, maybe imagining what it would be like to see the lights in your home. Perhaps you’ll take him there one day. 

The two of you walk around the base of the Skytree, chatting mildly about your plans for the rest of the week. By the time you’ve circled the Skytree and up and down the surrounding streets, your breath clouds in front of you and the cold has sunk into your bones.

“It’s getting kind of chilly.”

“Let's head back. Dinner should be ready now.”

You agree, and begin the short walk back to the coziness of his home. 

Satoru has prepared a savory stew for dinner- hearty mushrooms and veggies in a creamy roux sauce over rice. He serves you each a bowl and you hold the sides, letting the heat soak into your fingers. 

The meal is fantastic, rich and warming to the bone without being too heavy. You’re thankful Gojo took the day to cook instead of working on the assigned test design. 

In the last few months of dating, you've also found out that Satoru is always hungry- it doesn’t matter if you’ve just eaten, and that goes double when there’s dessert involved. 

You sigh. “It is nice having the week off. I haven’t gotten the texts for the Leadership in Education class yet.”

“Well, you can’t borrow mine,” Gojo smiles. “Yeah, yeah. Most of us don’t have the option to get out of classes,” you grumble. 

“It's my reward for ‘inspiring future educators’ at the symposiums. Besides,” he rolls his eyes and gets himself another portion of dinner, “you know they’re not letting me skip student teaching.”

“Yeah, because it’s one of the most critical parts of the program. You can't graduate without doing any actual teaching.”

“It'll make things busier. Will you still be taking Eikaiwa shifts when we start student teaching?”

You pause. The year has gone by so quickly, you hadn't put much thought into when you'll stop teaching English and step into your specialty. 

“Um, I’m not sure yet. I don’t want to stretch myself too thin. Planning lessons and grading for two different schools might be too much. I don’t know how you even manage classes with conferences.”

“Eh, it’s not that bad. I’ve already written the stuff, they just want me to talk about it.”

You finish your bowl and clean up the dishes from dinner, you can’t finish the night without something sweet though. You unwrap the parcel you picked up on the way over, revealing the Christmas Cake. 

It’s exquisite- all whipped cream and fresh strawberries on a soft sponge cake. Satoru kisses your cheek and grabs another knife to cut into the confection. You serve yourself a slice, and Gojo makes a serious dent in the remainder with his own piece. The cake is just sweet enough, light and balanced and fresh in a way that brightens the winter day. 

“Ugh, I think I want another slice,” Gojo says. 

You look at him- if he takes another piece as big as the first, there will be hardly half left. And frankly, you’re not sure how he could still be hungry after two servings of dinner. He sighs.

“Actually, maybe I want something else instead.” He walks over to you with a devilish glint in his eye and kisses you. “Mmmm, so much better.” 

Normally a line like that would make you roll your eyes, but Satoru is so playful and the night has been so pleasant so far, you can’t help but bring your lips to his. 

When you taste his lips, it’s comforting and exhilarating all at once. You know that he likes when you’re soft and gentle, and that he loves it more when you take control.  Every time your bodies meet there’s still a thrill that runs through you, an electrifying current that pulses in your veins and makes your heart sing. 

Satoru continues kissing you, keeping the touches light and chaste, but he begins walking you backwards towards the bedroom. 

You reach the doorway and when you reach under his shirt and press your hands into the warm skin of Satoru’s stomach, his chest, you feel the intoxicating rush of wanting and being wanted in return.

He takes his time running his hands over your shirt, down your arms, around your shoulders and back. The heat of his hands sinks into your skin through the fabric and heats your blood underneath. 

But the way his lips move against your own is ravenous, and when you open your mouth for more, his tongue slides into your mouth. He tastes you and consumes you, like any amount of you will never be enough.

Your blood is running hot now, but Satoru continues to just barely touch you, making no moves to feel underneath your clothes. If he’s not going to do anything, you will. You grab the bottom of your shirt and shimmy it up to your chest, breaking off the kiss to pull it over your head. 

Satoru pulls you right back into his arms, but you’ve had enough of his leisurely pace. You nip his earlobe and kiss down to the sweet spot on his neck, taking the time to run your hands over his clothes. When you reach his hips you slowly inch your hand around to his front to cup his hardening erection. You squeeze and suck on his neck at the same time and he melts in your hands. 

He’s wined and dined you, and now you’d like him naked. You quickly undo the belt of his pants and shove them down his legs before tugging the hem of his sweater up. Gojo grabs your wrist before you can pull it off though, and reaches around you back to pull off your bra. 

Satoru takes a moment to savor your topless form and then returns the favor, sensually dragging your pants off of you. He then pushes you onto the low bed and topples after you. Before you can catch your breath again his mouth is back on yours and his hands are everywhere on your body.

You’re overhot and understimulated, desperate for him to give you just a little more. As you trail kisses along his shoulder blade, you shove the boxers down and grasp him, moving your wrist just slightly. He sighs and swears into your hair. 

“You want me?” His voice is breathy and strained, and you can tell that he’s aching just as much for you as you are for him. 

“Please.”

He pulls back, slides his large hands down the length of your body, and pulls off your underwear. He takes his time coming back up to meet you, leaving open kisses on your calves, thighs, stomach and chest until you’re nearly writhing with need. 

At last, he stops at your face, kissing you once more before a low moan escapes as he slides into you. He’s spent so much time warming you up and teasing that you nearly sigh in relief too. 

His strokes are slow and easy, he doesn’t change his page as he kisses you deeply. Satoru looks into your eyes and brushes your nose with his own, soft and affectionate. While he props himself on one arm, the other wanders your waist and up to your breasts, where Gojo pays special attention to each one. He caresses the flesh there and rolls the nipples between his long fingers.

It’s not the lust filled sex you’ve had before, but a slow and amorous lovemaking. Satoru’s attention to your body and the tender way he’s looking at you make the experience even more erotic. You’re still spun up and haven’t had any relief yet, but you can feel the peak growing closer every time your hips meet. 

“Satoru, please,” you beg. 

This time, he acquiesces, and rubs small circles on your clit with the tip of his thumb. You can’t hold back a moan as the pressure climbs and climbs. When he kisses you again, the pressure reaches its peak, wracking your body. Your nails dig into his back the way you know he likes and you gasp out his name. 

Something about you seems him careening over the edge with you, like elements combining, the sum of your pleasure grows and becomes greater than its parts. You lay together in the afterglow, pressed against his stomach. 

He leans his head against you and sighs. “Love you.”

You flinch away from him and turn to stare.

“What?”

Satoru kisses you on the nose and repeats himself. Your heart stutters and it feels like the world stops. Not only did Satoru throw out this admission naturally, but he’s said it in English. 

“I said I love you,” he switches back to Japanese, “maybe you need to get your ears checked.” His mouth stretches into a smug smile.

Satoru hasn’t left you speechless in a long time, but as you stare at him now, you can’t quite force yourself to form any words. Too many thoughts run through your mind, clouding anything you could want to say to him. 

You know that outright declarations aren’t common. It's a big deal that he's just said this to you, and in your own language. 

“You’re not gonna say anything back? You’re hurting my feelings,” he fake pouts. 

“No, I do. I love you too. I just-” you scramble a reply in Japanese, and you use aishiteru, the deepest, most profound word for love. You flush a bit, not sure if that’s the level of love that he was talking about. 

Satoru rolls you onto your back and leans over you again.

“You do?” His eyes crinkle at the corners. He leans back over and kisses you again. You'd felt spent moments ago, but the admission sets heat simmering back through your blood. 

The second round of lovemaking is more passionate and frenzied than the first, but no less romantic. 

Satoru pulls you close again and you feel his heart beat slow. The night is dark outside the blinds of his window, and it must be close to Christmas day now. In the past that's meant days of preparation wrapping presents and gift exchanges. Laying in Satoru’s arms, thinking about the set of classes to come, you can’t find that you’re lacking anything.

[scenetocause]

Idk about you but I would sure like Norris / Fewtrell / Kodric to be given the emptyhalf words.

ok i guess

"You're unbelievable," Lando's laughing but he's like - it's the thing he does when he's actually kind of serious but he's playing it down, not his real laugh and it unnerves Max a lot.

"What do you mean?" He honestly doesn't know what he's done. Something, clearly; it's not bad enough that Lando isn't curled right up against him in Max's bed, Max's fingers threading through his hair and Lando's stupid palm tree necklace digging into Max's breastbone.

"You were flirting with Martin so much, oh my god."

Oh.

Well, guilty as charged.

"If my boyfriend didn't leave me at home all the time then maybe I wouldn't have to look at hot, uhm. Hunks." He's got past the word 'boyfriend' in his list of mental blocks but it's very hard for Max to sort of think of himself as gay beyond Lando. He's not really sure he is but then, Martin is pretty hot and so tall, too. Like Jake, who's also pretty hot and ok maybe he just... has some sort of very specific type. He should try checking out Marcus next time they're in the gym to see if it's all drivers or just specifically the idiot ones.

Lando pouts, curling more round Max. "If you'd actually ask instead of, like - you know I always want you there. Anyway, I guess Martin's kinda hot."

Oh. Oh, Lando isn't complaining, he's fantasising.

Except Max's self-esteem isn't as secure as Lando's, clearly and so what he says is. "Hotter than me?" And his voice sounds pathetically small.

"No." It's not possible to actually hear someone rolling their eyes but Max thinks he can. "You're - and mine. But y'know, for someone else he kind of is."

Lando presses an unusually tender kiss under Max's ear. "You're still my big boy."

"Jesus-" Max ineffectively swats at Lando, who's already successfully limpeted onto him and just holds Max tighter, peppering him with kisses. "Fuck off. God."

Max mumbles "I love you, Bob" into the bumps of Lando's spine when they've rearranged to big and little spoon, a few minutes later.

-

Nothing happens because why would anything happen. Martin's straight and if Max and Lando sometimes work it into their dirty talk, the idea of one of them getting fucked by Martin while the other one's watching then, well. Look. They've said that about, like - Lando has a weird crush on Niall from One Direction and sometimes it comes up, it's just a fantasy, it's fine.

Until Tom opens his stupid mouth and Max is gonna edit him for Insta again, he swears to god.

"Who'd you have in a threesome, if you could have anyone?"

"Martin," Lando says, without even looking up from his phone while he's posting some jpgs.

It's at the same time as Connor says "Dua Lipa" and Jenny hits him with a cushion but someone definitely heard because several people follow it up with what?

Lando glances round the table, unfazed. "It's be Martin, we've talked about it."

Max can feel himself turning blotchy crimson. "Mate, you can't just say things like-"

"Really?" It's only fair that Martin, himself, asks.

"Yeah," Lando is totally unbothered, tucking himself back against Max's shoulder and taking a sip of his drink, the only tell that he knows what he's doing the way he's suddenly glowing with that weird, malicious energy he gives off sometimes. "It'd be hot. Y'know, you could fuck Max or-"

Collective shouting around the table manages to preserve Max's honour and stop him having to find a way to murder the man he loves the most of anyone in the world. And that's kind of the end of it because they get into fuck, marry, kill with the characters from Friends but none of them can remember what half of them are called and shots dissolve the rest of the conversation.

Until Max is wobbling to the bathroom, a little while later and wondering where Lando's gone. He probably might have noticed Martin was gone, too, except that he's been studiously trying not to make any kind of eye contact with the bloke for several hours, so it's easier not to think.

Except that Martin is suddenly right up in his space and Max nearly trips over his own feet. "Uh - hello, what Lando said, like, just, ignore him it's-"

He's shocked by Martin shushing him. Realises Martin's shirt is unbuttoned all the way down, tries not to fixate on the trail of hair down from his belly button but looking up from that means he's staring into Martin's eyes.

"I didn't mind," Martin's accent makes it soft, voice deliberately gentle. "It's kind of cute."

Max doesn't have time to squirm, before Martin's hand is on his jaw and his sweaty palms are on Martin's chest to steady himself and the main thing he registers, when Martin kisses him, is Lando's shrieky laugh of glee much too close by.

"I knew it," there's the sound of a shutter closing, a photo that better not make it to the internet. "It is really hot."

[stealthnoodle]

Genuine question, how do you improve your fanfiction writing skills? I got a new special interest recently and I want to write about it. I haven't worked on anything in a decade and it feels like my skills have regressed. I miss writing fanfiction (especially femslash) so much and I want to get back into it.

There are probably as many different approaches to this are there are people who write, but here's what works for me!

One thing I do think is universally true is that the only way to get better is to keep putting words down, even if you're frustrated by the quality of them. (And it is so frustrating to come back to writing after a long break and feel like you've forgotten how to string words together. I have been there! It's the worst!) So Step One, I think, is to figure out what you need to do to make it easier to brain dump. Skip over scenes you're not in the mood to write. Use placeholders like "[Witty reply]" or "[does something to show she's angry]" if you get stuck. Don't worry about using too many adverbs or repeating yourself.

If you're someone who struggles with anxiety when you sit down to write (hi, it's me), take steps to relax yourself so that your brain's filter won't get in the way too much. Maybe you put on some motivating music. Maybe you exercise your way into some endorphins first. Maybe you're me and you've mastered getting high enough to chill out without chilling out so hard you end up staring at the ceiling for an hour. "Write drunk, edit sober" doesn't have to be literal advice, but I like the spirit of it.

Once you've got a bunch of words to work with, pat yourself on the back! Maybe later you can revise your brain dump into something you want to show other people. Maybe you hate it and just want to do an autopsy to understand why. Either way, you've done something valuable just by getting those words out. Go through them and make notes, even if your notes are as vague as "This character's voice sounds a little off" or "This scene doesn't fit here." I like to highlight chunks of text I feel especially iffy about in green. And on the flip side, even the biggest mess is probably going to have something you like enough to repurpose somewhere else. I write in Scrivener, and all of my projects have a "Bits and Scraps" file for this purpose. 10/10, would recommend.

Speaking of which, "Kill your darlings" is terrible advice. Stash your darlings away for later. I have written a truly ridiculous number of words that never ended up turning into a story I could be satisfied with, and being able to reframe my thinking from "Ugh, what a waste of effort" to "Wow, that was a lot of great practice, and now I've got a document full of turns of phrase and jokes and plot points I can recycle" has made a huge difference for me.

My other tip is to spend time deconstructing other people's writing in your brain to understand why it works. Some people don't enjoy doing this when they're reading for fun, and they're probably better off trying this on a reread; I am the kind of weirdo who will stop in delight when I come across something I find effective and rotate it in my mind like a 3-D Tetris block. (As a messy bitch who loves writing out of sequence, I'm always on the lookout for especially smooth pacing and transitions that I can try to emulate.) When you read fics with characterizations that you like, try comparing the characters' speech and actions to their canon selves and see if you can trace how the author extrapolated from them; when you read fics with characterizations you don't like, see if you can articulate to yourself why they feel off to you.

Hopefully at least some of that wall of text is helpful, lol. Good luck, anon! I am rooting for you to make the girls kiss!

[averysmolbear]

A Meet-Cute With Taishiro Toyomitsu

CW: This just pure selfship lore for Tesshiro. Just a little thing about how FatGum and I met. It’s also likely to not be edited or proofread. It’s going to be all fluff as well so if you don’t like selfship things and/or fluff, it’s fine to look away now.

I had opened a small bakery just a couple of blocks away from FatGum's hero agency without even realizing it. There was a little shop and seating inside, a little patio for outdoor seating and a walk up window where people could get their orders to go while on their way to work or school or wherever it was they were headed for the day. It was a quiet enough spot with spurts of activity but plenty of time for me and the two other people I had working for me to keep up with everything that needed to be done.

I was typically in the kitchen, working on a fresh batch of baked goods whenever Taishiro would happen by. The first time it was a pure accident. He spotted the bakery open while heading back after patrolling a bit so he stopped to see what he could get, ordering various cookies and mochi donuts to bring back to the agency. Soon, however, he made it a habit to stop by at least once a day to pick up treats for his pro hero agency and a couple to eat when he got home again at the end of the day.

He and I kept missing each other, with him stopping by just as I would wander back into the kitchen to work on something or when I happened to be cleaning something up away from our walk up window. Had I known that Taishiro had become a regular, I would have tried to meet him sooner but as fate would have it, one of my employees had stepped out one day when Taishiro had stopped by and I happened to be the one to head over to take his order.

"Oh! You must be new," Taishiro said, a wide grin on his face when he saw me.

Laughing softly, I shook my head. "Actually I'm sort of the owner."

Taishiro's cheeks started to flush a light pink as he nodded. "Sorry. I didn't know."

"It's fine. What can I get you?"

He rattled off his usual order and I was surprised when Tami, one of my other employees, walked up with a bag already packed up for him. I took it from her and handed it over with a confused smile, shaking my head slightly.

"Apparently you're not the only one being surprised today," I said with a laugh. I waved Taishiro off when he pulled out money to pay. "Put that away. This time it's on me. No charge."

Taishiro carefully took the bag from me, smiling a bit wider when his hand briefly brushed against mine. "Are you sure?"

"I think I can manage to give you some free baked good just this once." I saw him blush a little deeper shade of pink although he was smiling sweet as he looked down at me.

"How about I make it up to you?"

I tilted my head slightly to the side, my eyes narrowing in a playful manner. "And just what did you have in mind?"

Taishiro laughed softly and quickly shrugged. "Let me take you to dinner some time?"

It came out as more of a question than a statement and he looked a bit shy and uncertain about asking something like that. Honestly, he normally wouldn't have done something that he considered to be so bold but I somehow managed to catch his attention and Taishiro thought that my offer of free donuts and cookies was the perfect chance for him to ask me to dinner.

It was, however, my turn to blush. I nodded eagerly, however, and softly laughed at myself for it. "Alright, just this once. Don't think you can charm your way into getting more free treats next time you stop by though."

Taishiro smiled widely, holding up his hands in surrender with a laugh of his own. "You have my word."

Before he left, a plan was made for him to take me to dinner that night once the bakery had closed and he was done for the night. And, of course, it proved to be the first date of many with Taishiro and I actually falling for each other a lot faster than either of us thought that we might.