#hand them to me saying that they don't belong there

[envy-of-the-apple]

Fun Sized

Dark!Fairy!Gojo Satoru x reader

Word Count: 2k

Synopsis: You save a tiny fairy. Gojo Satoru decides that you and him belong together, regardless of how little he is and how little you think of him. 

(Warnings: Yandere, not many warnings in this one ngl)

The fae are a dangerous bunch. You've heard more than enough stories to be spooked. Sirens will sing beautiful songs before dragging you into the depths. Dragons will burn you to a crisp before a second's thought. Nagas would make sure you were alive until the very end as they feast on your organs. Centaurs would use their powerful legs to stomp yours to mere twigs. Driders would suck your blood until there's nothing left but a husk of your body. 

You've never heard anything about fairies. They didn't live in your region. Their lands were high in the mountains, where humans rarely traveled. Also, they were so tiny, according to the books. The biggest seemed to be barely the size of your hand. They were harmless, you concluded. Harmless to humans. Harmless to you. 

He had been harmless. At first, you thought it was a cluster of leaves in the stream, but as the current drew it closer, you noticed tiny arms and a tiny face. He was unconscious; you didn't even know if the poor thing was alive. 

The Fae are a dangerous bunch, but saving one tiny fairy couldn't hurt, right? 

Your guest quickly proved to be a bigger hassle than you initially thought. 

When you brought him to your cottage, he laid in a basket of warm linen, asleep for hours near the warm fireplace. The blueberry pie was still hot when you turned around and caught him staring at you. 

It was silent for a while, and then you said: 

"Do you like sweets?" 

That's how your tentative friendship with the other kind started. Gojo Satoru (you later learned his name) was a boisterous thing. He did in fact like sweets, which helped bribe his friendship. You're surprised that he ate so much despite his stature. Did all faires have black holes for stomachs? 

He healed up rather quickly. At first, you were afraid that his wings had crumbled due to the prolonged exposure to water. But after stuffing himself full of the blueberry syrup, he smiled widely before flitting out your window. 

You thought that would be the end of it, but then he just came coming back. 

Apparently, your baking skills left an impact on the small creature. He didn't visit often, but when he did, you would always make sure you had something. Whether it be cookies, brownies, or that blueberry pie he was so fond of. Anything was good enough for Gojo's taste palette. 

"In the fae lands," Gojo said when you prodded, "sweets are too sweet. Yours is just enough."  You weren't too sure what he meant by that, but you took it as a compliment. You were sure the fae wasn't something who'd give praises so easily. 

It's not like you were upset at providing food for your tiny friend. Quite the contrary. You loved it when Gojo visited. You found him fascinating, the way he could fly miles and miles above your head. How tiny he was. The amount of times you had to hold yourself back from squishing him between your fingers because of how cute he was scared you. 

And you hoped you were fascinating enough to entertain Gojo. You had to be; you don't know why else he'd keep coming back. Even after gobbling down your cooking, he'd lounge around your home, entertaining you with his stories. You learned of the other magical creatures he was in contact with, the students he taught, and how fond he was of them. You don't know why he was so open about sharing his personal life with you, in the stories fae hated humanity, but you would never complain. 

It doesn't click as to why Gojo's so invested in you until he comes out and says it himself. 

"Instead of me coming back and forth like this, why don't you just come live with me?" He says, "I would cut down my flying time by a lot." 

You stare at him in amusement, sure he's joking. "I'm not sure how I'd fit in your house." You tease. "I'd probably crush all your furniture." 

"I can make my house bigger." He announces. "Don't worry 'bout it, just say yes." 

You stare at him, slowly realizing that he isn't as amused. He's still smiling, but there's no joke. 

"No," you finally say, "I'm not doing that." 

He cocks his head surprised as though he's never had someone reject him before. 

"What?" He asks, "Why not?"

"Well." You clear your throat. "For one, I'm human, and you're a fairie. I don't think Fae would appreciate a human wandering around in their lands." 

"Who cares about all that?" Gojo waves his hands around. "You'll be with me, anyways. It'd be fine." 

"I don't get why you're so fixated on the human realm." His mouth turns into a sneer. "It's all so boring. Nothing ever happens. And our magic is much more advanced than yours." It's true. You can't disagree with that. Satoru didn't wear clothes made out of leaves or vines, unlike the common fairy stereotype. His clothing looked much more advanced compared to your loose cotton dresses. A black shirt with intricate buttons and long sleeves. Along with black trousers. You wonder what material could make his suit so shiny. 

You laugh at his disgust. At that time, you saw Gojo as a tiny child clutching their mother's skirts, a cute puppy. You hadn't yet taken Gojo Satoru as the threat he was. 

"It's because I am human." You say, not offended by his remarks. "So I like being near other humans." 

He groans as though your logic makes no sense. "Yuji and the others ask about you all the time, though. They've been dying to meet you." 

"You talk to your students about the giant that cooks for you? I'm flattered." 

"You're dodging," he warns. You roll your eyes. 

"Satoru, I'm not coming to live with you. It'd be too much of a hassle." You finally say. "Besides, you're not my type." 

"I'm everyone's type." He argues. 

"Not mine." You smile, and then you make your first blunder. 

"I like my men a little taller." 

He stiffens, and you know you said the wrong thing. Your smile fades as does the cheery energy in your cottage. He says nothing, but he's zipping out your window before you can apologize. 

He doesn't return for the longest time. You count the weeks. Guilt weighs on your shoulders, heavy and burdensome. Every day you bake something even tastier than the day before. Not even that is enough to coax him back. 

You think you've lost him forever, when he returns on one sweltering summer evening. 

"Hi." You blink. He's watching you, sitting idly on the window, kicking his tiny feet. 

"Hi." He smiles. 

You're happy enough to grab him with one fist and hugging him to your chest, but as always, you stop yourself. Instead, a shy smile rests on your face. 

"I'm sorry," you say, "I really am...will you accept an apology pie?" 

He grins wider, and you relax. 

He eats, and you're grateful. Something you once cherished in your life has finally come back to you. You might not return Gojo's feelings, but you still care for him. You'd rather die than ever hurt him again. 

"No, you're right." Gojo surprisingly concedes when you apologize for the third time. "We're too different. It'd never work out. Not as the way you are, right now." 

You nod, grateful he's so understanding. "Exactly." 

He's finishing up when he announces he brought you a gift. 

"I've been working on it for the past few weeks," he cheerily says. "It took a while, but it's finally safe for human consumption." 

He takes out a tiny glass bottle filled with something swirling and blue. When he asks you to bring a glass of water, you acquiesce. To your astonishment, when the elixer is poured, the entire water becomes a swirling mass of a color comparable to none other than galaxies. You're so mesmerized by the color, it's enough to stump your voice. 

"For you!" He declares. "You've always been cooking for me; thought I might return the favor, just this once." 

"What is it?" You ask, amazed by the color. You admire the glance, unaware of the glint in Gojo's eye. 

"It's kinda like the wine you have in the mortal realms, but a little less poignant." He gives when you glance at him. "Go on, tell me what you think?" 

You're too trusting, and so you make your second blunder. 

Once you start, you can't seem to stop. The taste is otherworldly, addicting. You drink and drink, not wasting a single drop. You're breathing heavily once the cup detaches from your lips. 

"Amazing." You say before looking at him. His eyes are too wide, but you're too distracted by the taste still on your tongue. "Seriously, what was that? Can I make it here?" 

He scratches the back of his head. "Not really, the ingredients are pretty hard to find." He shrugs. "Besides, it's supposed to be a one-time use." 

Your eyebrows twist, and then the world sinks. 

You're falling. You think you are. You don't really know. Everything feels like it's stretching. The walls of your tiny little cottage get higher and higher and higher. The floor gets more and more warped. You're sinking, sinking through the air. When you scream, nothing comes out. You feel like you're choking because you can't breathe, and then your vision grows black. 

The next time you open your eyes. It's still dark, and to your horror, you realize you're buried underneath something. 

You panic, clawing and tearing your way out. The material gives away easily. It's fabric. Cotton. But there was so much, an undying ocean of fabric. You lift yourself up from the pile and that's when you realize you're completely naked. 

The mountain of cotton you just climbed to the top of was your old dress. 

Everything was gigantic—the table, the chairs. The windows seemed endless. The ceiling looked miles above you, and you know what happened, but your brain can't formulate it because it can't be—it just can't be.

There's a flutter of wings. You always thought he was so quiet before. Now, he's all you can hear. Immediately, you wrap your body with the cloth. It's hard to keep still; your body is buzzing with nerves and you still can't understand. You have to force yourself to look at him.

You don't know why you expected shock, guilt, something other than the pure manic glee on his face. Satoru towers above you, head tilted. He bends down, cupping your trembling face in his hand because he's big enough to do that now. 

"Just when I thought you couldn't get any more adorable." He coos. 

You can see him now. His skin isn't pale, it's borderline translucent. His canines are sharp and pointy. And his eyes. Oh God you've never seen eyes so terrifying before—an endless mass of blue, threatening to swallow you whole. 

He wasn't a cute little fairy. He was anything but that. 

"Gojo..." You start, heart squeezing. "What did you do.." 

You know. He knows. That's why he ignores your question entirely. 

"I'm surprised it worked." He says, mainly talking to himself. "Shoko said it might be a dud, and she was so sure of it, that I mostly believed her." 

"But now look at you!" He roughly pinches your cheek. "You're the perfect size now." 

"Stop." You blubber, pushing his hand off of you. "Don't touch me. Change me back. Change me back." 

He frowns. "Why would I do that? You being human-sized was always such a hassle. Lumbering around. Way too loud. Don't get me wrong, I adore you either way." He proclaims like it's something benevolent. "But this has its charm."

He leans forward, and you scuddle backward in fear. His grin widens. 

"So, am I tall enough for you, now?" 

[deadsnakey]

𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔? 𝐖𝐄'𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔!

𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐘!𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 𝐱 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐱 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐄

—> Mattheo Riddle and Theodore Nott love to bother you, it's so obvious they hate you. Do they really, though?

Check out the request here!

—> Enemies to lovers, kind of... Fluff, a little angst possibly and two idiotic boyfriends who think bothering you very clearly means they like you.

★ Ok, this might be a little messy but just stay with me here.

★ since first year, mattheo thought you were so pretty and just adorable. though, he always kept his distance as much as possible.

★ it wasn't untill around third year that mattheo and Theodore started getting really close, eventually dating in 5th year.

★ but there was still a huge problem, you.

★ they both knew they liked you, they've talked about it voguely a few times and since then they've had to an understanding that you belong to them and no one else...even if you didn't know it yet.

★ unfortunately for you, they only knew one way to flirt; teasing and bothering you.

★ its not too long until you start trying to avoid them as much as possible, knowing you'll be teased relentlessly or the butt of their joke that you never found funny.

★ they always called you names like princess, sweetheart, doll or darling. nicknames in Italian from Theo that you didn't really understand.

★ Stealing your pencils, notebooks, homework or even your wand just to get your attention. They'd dangle it where you couldn't reach. Anything for your attention.

you were going to your last period of the day, hoping you'd be able to make it through without seeing them, the two boys. you've been lucky enough to go the whole day without seeing them but you still technically had two more hours before you'd be safe in your dorm for the night.

you've made it to class, and successfully made it through. walking through the halls, listening to music. your huffy puffy friend ended up stopping you for a few minutes to ask about the material you both were learning at the moment in potions.

once done, you quickly started walking again, about to press play on your music again when you feel someone lightly tap your shoulder. you sigh to yourself, hoping it wasn't the two boys whom you've been dreading of seeing; let alone talking to.

"hey, princess. where you've been lately? hm? avoiding us, weren't you?" mattheo taunted, a smirk stretched on the side of his lips.

you slowly blinked, in disbelief. "why? miss taunting your toy? can you guys just leave me alone? I've done nothing to you." they both huffed, "toy? is that how you really see it? you know it's quite saddening you'd think of us in such a way, darling." mattheo put his arm on theodore's shoulder, slighting leaning on it.

"yeah, okay." you harshly spat out, turning on your heel to get away from them. Theodore was quicker. he gently but firmly grabbed your arm and pulled you into his chest making you stumble; your back now touching his clothed chest. you were quickly intoxicated with the smell of faint cigarettes and cinnamon.

"what? got nothing to say now, tesoro?", "don't call me that. and let me go!" you struggled. "someone's feisty, eh? c'mon, lets go to my dorm. I think we need to have a little chat with you." mattheo said, gently putting his hand on the top of your head in a genuine gesture as Theodore started walking, mattheo in front as he led the way and Theodore making sure you're not trying to escape from behind you.

★ safe to say, you were scared.

★ but they really did just want to talk to you. they confessed their feelings for you although you were confused. they hated you.

★ they explained that they didn't hate you, they were head over heels for you if anything. they just...had a really bad way of showing it, hence the constant and brutal teasing.

★ you were shocked. but you told them that they needed to give you some time, you told them as long as they toned it down and stopped being so cruel with their teasing and jokes and actually got to now them, you'd consider dating them.

★ They finally got your attention and they loved it.

★ after 4 awful months of torture from these two, it payed off.

★ fast forward to the end of sixth year, you developed feelings from them both and heavily overtime. that's when you told them that you had came to falling for them and would love to date them both; now that you felt ready.

★ they were soooo happy, definitely lots of affection from these two the rest of the day and night.

[worriedvision]

Ajaw ruins his relationship with you - Kinich

Gender neutral reader, angst. No happy ending here, borderline crack BC Ajaw is a cracky character let's be honest. Ajaws a little shit here

--

Kinich had, somehow, caught your eye enough for you to successfully land a date with him. One date becomes two, and the third one ends in you inviting him over for a drink. He accepts, and before you know it your home becomes a place for him to call home as well. While Kinich wasn't very emotive, he seemed to smile just a bit around you.

However, the couple affections you would expect from him in a relationship weren't coming. Nothing like kissing or hugging, and for a while you think it's because Kinich was not a touchy person. You also knew he was very busy with his work, which was why the first few times he left and told you not to wait for him you didn't think much. At the time, in fact, you were more attracted to him because he was honest with you.

"Don't wait up." He blankly states, every morning he leaves. If you're lucky, he comes back at night time only to sleep - he doesn't make himself any food or drink from your home.

You got suspicious of him when you were hanging out with Mualani, and she brought up the fact someone called Ajaw wouldn't stop nagging at Kinich. When you ask who Ajaw was, rather if this was his boss, Mualani laughs.

"Ajaw probably thinks so, but they bickering too often to do any work together." Mualani tuts. "Do you never hear Ajaw? That voice is so... Annoying to hear!"

"No...I've never met this Ajaw." You hum out, Mualani gasping.

"Tell me your tricks!"

--

Once you get home from your interaction with your friend, you've had enough time to think. After some long thinking, you come to a decision. You move the stuff that's Kinich's, leaving them by the front door, and add temporary locks in addition to the one your key locks until you can change the lock.

To your surprise, Kinich sounds surprised when he notices his bags out. You refuse to open the door, having more than enough time to waste as you had a day off, and Kinich defeatedly picks up his few belongings before leaving.

--

"Hah! You should see your face!" Ajaw jeers, Mualani and Kinich groaning out at Ajaws harsh words. "Good thing _ wisened up and realised they can do a lot better than some mortal being that can't even get himself a group of companions!"

"Because you always ruin things." Mualani sighs.

"Hey, I can't take credit for this one! I never even once spoke around _!" Ajaw shrugs, putting some sunglasses on.

"I was hoping to finally get to spend some time with them. I've finally got enough cover for a few days." Kinich states, seeming to realise what Ajaw did. "...Mualani, you know how annoying Ajaw is. Do you know if -"

"Oddly enough no! Honestly, I'm jealous. Ajaw doesn't know when to shut up."

"...It seems they do." Kinich massages his temples, Mualani making eye contact with him.

"...Do you think they were suspicious you were seeing Ajaw? Yuck!"

"Hey, I can hear you, ya know?!"

"It makes sense though. They don't know Ajaw isn't even human, and also isn't mortal."

"Hahaha! Oh boy, even I didn't think keeping my mouth shut around your potential love interests would give this benefit!" Ajaw cackles, seeing Kinich's hand flying towards him. "Hey, what are - AHH!"

--

You keep getting asked if Kinich is single, each time you saying he wasn't seeing you anymore before they seem excited to pursue a taken man. It's quite concerning, really, you think theres little dignity in being the other person in the relationship.

Kinich tried to talk to you, but each time you saw him you'd make an excuse for being too busy before hearing some weird child cackling and screaming in retaliation to someone reacting to them. As much as his hurt expression spoke to you, you still knew in your mind that Kinich was in a relationship.

Even if he wasn't, you would know in your mind that you were the second choice.

[writingquestionsanswered]

Hi

I know this is a really stupid question but what does it mean when people say "If you can take that detail out and it doesn't change the story, it doesn't belong there"?

I have autism so that's probably why I'm not understanding, but to me it doesn't make sense. If I take something out, it will change the story, because,,, I'm literally taking something out. I'm changing it. The story had something, and now it doesn't.

I just don't know how to figure out what "doesn't belong".

It always seems like people use that "advice" whenever it comes to a character being disabled/POC/gay/etc. so I'm a little wary of it tbh.

When Removing a Detail Changes a Story Fundamentally vs Superficially

If you remove a detail from your story, no matter how small, it "changes" the story in that the detail is no longer there. However, there's a difference between a fundamental change (something that changes the story dramatically) versus a superficial change (something that changes the story in a trivial way.)

For example, let's say you have a scene where your character is eating ice cream with a friend, and they vehemently ask for no cherry on top. Does the cherry, and whether or not your character mentions it, have any bearing on the story later? Does your character's vehement rejection of the cherry tell us anything critical about the character?

Let's say that the cherry is important because as a result of this vehement rejection, we learn that the character is allergic to sulfides (which are used in the productions of maraschino cherries), and this sulfide allergy becomes important later in the story. Removing this moment, where they vehemently ask for no cherry on top, would fundamentally change the story because without it, the reader wouldn't learn that the character has a sulfides allergy, which becomes important later. This is a change that would deeply affect the story.

On the other hand, let's say the character doesn't have a sulfides allergy, they just don't like cherries, and this is not an important character detail and never comes up again. In this case, this vehement rejection of the cherry on top doesn't add anything to the story. Removing it only changes the story superficially, not in a way that matters.

So, to tell whether or not removing a detail would fundamentally change the story, ask yourself: "Does removing this detail prevent the story from playing out the way I planned it? Does removing this detail mean the reader won't understand a character or something that happens later?" If the answer to one or both of these questions is "yes," that makes it a fundamental change. If the answer to both questions is "no," it's a superficial change.

When it comes to the details of diversity like race, culture, religion, disability, sexual orientation, and gender identity, the issue tends to be more about making sure you're not just "painting on" this detail of diversity. Like... you can have a character who uses a wheelchair without that detail being the most important thing about the character, and without it playing a major role in the story, but you also need to make sure you create a thoughtful, authentic portrayal of a person who uses a wheelchair. In other words, you wouldn't want to gloss over or trivialize the ways in which being in a wheelchair affects the character. For example, let's say you have a group of characters who are solving a mystery and it requires them to go into an old abandoned house on a rocky hillside. The only way to access the house is up a flight of wobbly rock steps. You wouldn't want to just illustrate the character effortlessly wheeling themselves up these steps, because that would be unrealistic and inauthentic. At that point, the wheelchair just becomes a detail that's "painted on" because it doesn't really have any impact on the character or the story. But, if you show the other characters helping this character up the steps, or finding an alternate route for them to use, that makes sure this detail (that they use a wheelchair) isn't superficial.

The best way to make sure you create a thoughtful, authentic portrayal of a diverse character--when you, yourself, do not share that diversity trait--is to make sure you have a qualified sensitivity reader who does share that trait (and potentially more than one if possible) so they can let you know if there are issues with your portrayal.

Let me know if you have further questions!

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[fleurrreads]

pretty little rich girl

pairings: benny cross x fem!reader

warnings: some unwanted comments, bit of angst, happy ending(?)

author's note: based on this request! honestly don't know how i feel about this one, i might write more for them in the future.

Benny has seen many girls in his lifetime, but none of them have downright turned his world upside down. Until he met you. It was supposed to be just another night at the bar, until you walked in. All pretty in a little dress, pearls around your neck. You look expensive. Benny's eyes follow you until you sit down, probably with a friend. He steps closer to eavesdrop on the conversation.

You sit down with a huff, "Where did ya bring me, Kathy? Ya hang out 'round here?" You look around wildly at the bikers crowding the little bar. Kathy laughs. "Don't worry, darlin'. They won't do anythin to make you uncomfortable or somethin'. They're good people." Kathy finishes, looking over your shoulder, spotting Benny standing a few metres away. She smirks, "Okay listen, I'm gonna go get us some drinks, you want a pop? I'll get ya a pop." Kathy rambles, before walking off to the bar, leaving you alone. You look around warily, the bikers closest to you looking at each other, then at you, and then laughing among themselves. You look down, fiddling with your fingers. 'Hurry up Kathy' you thought to yourself, and a split second later someone sits down in Kathy's chair. But it's not Kathy.

You look up, seeing the prettiest blue eyes and you nearly gulp. Holy shit you think as you let your eyes travel the stranger up and down. He's gorgeous. The stranger looks in a daze, as he crosses his arms over his chest, muscles on full display. Before you say anything, he speaks and you think you could melt right there.

"I'm Benny." he says, his face nearly in a pout. You nearly laugh, the situation being so unorthodox. "I'm y/n. And you're sittin' on my friend's seat." you say, making him throw his hands up in feigned innocence. "Really? I didn't know. My bad, darlin'." He says in a husky voice, his eyes never leaving you.

You smile, "Yeah, but listen I gotta get home, so it was nice meetin' ya, but i gotta get goin'." You stand up, not bothering to look for Kathy, you'd call her later. Unbeknownst to you Benny gets up and follows you outside. As you make your way to the door you hear whistles and calls, making your stomach turn. One comment made you stop in your tracks. "Look at this pretty little rich girl, playin' where she doesn't belong." one of the bikers said, and you frowned.

Yes, you were from a wealthy family, but that doesn't make you just a rich girl. You have ambitions, you have dreams. You can be something other than a rich girl too.

You shake your head, pushing past people as fast as you can, trying to calm the tears that are threatening to spill. As soon as you get outside you take a cigarette from your bag, and sigh. "For fuck sakes. Where's my damn lighter." you grumble, emotions on high. Benny walks up to you, lighter in hand. Without saying anything he brings the light to your face, to your cigarette. "Thanks" you mumble, taking a drag.

You just want to go home. The past hour you've been here has probably taken three years off your lifespan. You sigh, kicking around a rock with your polished shoes. You would be able to enjoy this life, the freedom that comes along with it, if it weren't for people and their stupid comments. You'd finally find a place where you belong. Because it certainly wasn't with the rich kids. They always thought you were weird for having dreams like moving to a farm and building a life for yourself. Or moving to California to surf and working at a surf shop. That's why that guy in the bar's comment frustrated you. If you didn't belong at home, and you didn't belong here, then where do you belong? Benny clears his throat, you jump, forgetting that was there.

"Y'know, they didn't mean it like that. What they said back there. They 'just never seen a girl like you in our bar." he says, as if reading your mind. You scoff, taking another drag from your cigarette. "Yeah whatever, I don't really care. Probably won't see 'em again anyway. But you have a good evenin', Benny. It was delightful meetin' ya." You stomp out your cigarette, walking to the bus stop.

Benny offers you a ride home, because of course the busses don't run at 2am anymore. So you give him your address. As Benny takes a turn into your street you think of how vastly you differ from him. Him in his dirty leather jacket, his hair unwashed for probably a while, and his grease stained shirt underneath with his leather boots. To you, a girl polished by her parents to embody elegance, even though you were far from it. A white dress, pearls probably worth more than his bike, shoes polished and your hair neatly in a bow. A doll. A doll standing on a dangerous cliff, ready to jump down to whatever world Benny was involved in.

Benny pulls up to your house, and he takes a moment to study your house. A double story house, white picket fence, gorgeous porch running around the house. You were rich. He hears you sigh as you get off the bike, and he blurts out a question. "You wanna go to a meetin' with me tomorrow?" He looks at you, pretty dress now stained from sitting so close to him on the bike. He quite likes it. Him tainting your pretty little life. He can sense that you might like it too. You smile, "Yeah, why not. I don't have anythin' goin' on anyway." you nod, making your way to the white picket fence surrounding your house. You look back at him, his eyes sparkling with something you've never seen before.

"Well goodnight, Benny." you wave, making your way to your door.

"Goodnight, princess." Benny hums, leaning against his bike. Yeah he likes you, a lot. He's not going to let you slip out of his fingers. He's already obsessed with you. His princess.

Six weeks later, you married him.

reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! ★

[the-grimm-writer]

Your haunted house story has me feeling feral- knowing my friends if they saw me being fucked by a “haunt actor” they’d assume I was just whoring around, so pour one out for me probably dying in that scenario, but the idea of him just plowing away even if other patrons start to walk by, or see. Like would he kill them or not even bother stopping… 💛

Ngl my friends would think the same thing 😭

.

So I can see it being one of those 18+ attractions where the actors can get hands-on and you have to sign a waver to get in, so not many people would be too surprised if they walked past and saw someone getting freaky on the floor lmao

But there's a bonus! He wouldn't kill your friends or anybody, really. Only if they see that something's wrong and try and pull him away from you. Then you'd have to try and pull him back as he grabs his axe, swearing you'll do anything as long as he doesn't kill them.

He'd be smug as hell about if nobody stops him, though. Smiling at you as he mockingly wipes away your tears and leans in close to you as he speaks, his other hand covering your mouth so your muffled screams sound even more like moans.

"Look at that. Even your friends know that you belong to me now."

And he wouldn't kill you!! He'd never kill his favorite victim <3. He'd only threaten to. Telling you how it would be such a shame if he had to cut open your pretty neck if you don't kiss him or say whatever you want him to.

He'd be super degrading too, taunting you for coming undone despite knowing that he's a killer, how your fear has only made you clench around him tighter. How you must be as twisted as him if you're really about to cum too since you know he wouldn't think twice about killing anyone you care about (like he doesn't know exactly what it takes to get you to hehe).

Just playing mind games to fuck with your head so by the time he's finished you're basically clinging onto him when he picks you up and takes you away with him, too shaken up to try and fight back or get help.

And by the time people discover what actually happened at the haunted house, it's too late. You're stuck with him now. 🥺

[tiyoin]

Tiyoin, I'm starting to yapping again. So I've been thinking about expanding more on the contest in the twst singer au. Like the outfits, posable songs, duets(?), posable challenge in the contest(?), the magic ✨,etc. Side note posable doesn't seem like a real word

For the outfits Vil would have mostly have control over them. Like he'll ask reader about fabrics she likes or give them a few designs to pick from but that's about it. 🌀 would probably wear simple just elegant outfits. Looking good enough to belong there w/o sticking out.

The fits definitely have a purple/blue base/ she has wears accessories that shows others that 🌀 kinds belongs to Vil/ Rook cuz rook is always here and never ever leaves(I think I have a problem). I like to picture the purple getting darker as reader progresses though out the contest as a way to show development in reader/overall.

Next, part of the outfits are the magic masks. With the masks you would only see the contestants' mouth, chin/jaw area. And the magic just makes it hard for people to figure out who is singing. Obviously with different themes/vibes the outfits and masks change with them.

Now onto the duets. In the voice they have the contestants do duets with each other right? So I was thinking there would be smth similar. Maybe with the judges, someone they picked w/o the mask(Rook) or, with a different judge(Neige?) so there's not like any cheating/favoritism ya know?

Like Rook &🌀 singing everything has changed. There's a line that says green eyes and freckles. Idk if rook canonically has freckles but it's a cute though and maybe they're hard to see 🙈 so he's like "🌀 has been staring at me*kicking feet while giggling*"

I'm going to start yapping about what I've been most excited for. The ✨magic✨. I was thinking that they could be fairies like Tinkerbell orrrr they're just little balls of light that fit in your hand. Like they all have little personalities, emotions, families everything.

Overall just mini friends for 🌀. They have different teams for all the contestants but, none of them ever treat them well or acted like they're just tools and, bcuz of that they never do more than the minimum for the contestants.

I think reader is the type to be nice/polite to everyone till there's a reason not to. A treat people how you want to be treated way and, bcuz of that they really help 🌀 in and out if the contest.

I personally like they being little balls more. It seems sweeter/more comforting/ genuine for them and reader that way. Picture them playing in the woods with reader just having fun 💞💞

But If you like them more Tinkerbell like it can be like a seasonal job for them. Imagine how cute it would be if 🌀 sings a love song and 2 of them start dancing together💘(too young by Sabrina Carpenter?)

For the challenges I was thing maybe a writing on. Like theyre given a word/place/object and have to make a song around it and Vil can only help reader a little bit. Maybe that have a acoustic round were the fairies can't help at all. Or they sing a different language.

Honestly I think the hardest part of this is finding the songs. I can so see 🌀 writing most of their songs based off their dreams/stories they read. Tbh I've been listening to So long London the whole time typing this and, can see 🌀 winning a challenge with it. Cuz the other would write/do really poppy songs and reader comes out with the opposite vibe.

Vil & Rook would be there when reader writes it/perform it for the first time and, they're blown away. Like yea they knew wrote her own songs but they never thought it would be that good.

I'm sorry I know I said songs and it turned out only being one. I just don't know what happy songs to give to reader. 😕 Reader just give "I hate feeling this way but i find comfort in the way I feeling" ya know?

ANYWAYS I hope you get a good night's sleep and I love today's chapter. I honestly thought u were writing about me for a moment that's how badly I was relating to 🌀. Sorry if there any mistake it's another 3-4am ask.

MELLLLLL MELLLLLLLLLLLL

VIL AND ROOK WOULD ABSOLUTELY SUBTLY STAKE A CLAIM ON READER VIA CLOTHES. the clothes they wear are 100% pomefiore inspired threads that they designed and crafted themselves. maybe crewel catches wind of this and it becomes a WHOLE fashion operation that mc does NOT want to be apart of (maybe she does, but doesn't feel like she's worthy enough for any of these nice things/ to be pampered over like this)

if the octotrio somehow finds out about this, I can imagine azul or one of the twins making a comment (if mc wears a lilac color that day) that mc looks 'beautiful in octanvinelle's colors and that it suits her more than those saturated colors she's normally wrapped in..' only for vil to take lilac completely out of her wardrobe OR keep it to a minimal 😭

imagining that the masks that get sent to the participants are normally blank, white mascarade masks, but because they're magic they alter with the theme. and so when new one comes out the mask changes to that theme and the participants can make their outfits around the masks.

WITH THE DUETS I CAN IMAGINE NEIGE SIGNING UP FOR THE CONTEST AND THEM GETTING PAIRED UP, ONLY FOR VIL TO RECOGNIZE HIM AND GET PISSED TF OFF😭

"I heard that aggitating, grading voice-"

'maybe I shouldn't of signed up to be a judge....' well thinks with anger as he watches the two of you practice via mirror. im imaging the duets are something like the duets in 'the voice' where you both sing against each other but also with each other.

but also, for some fun, and for a harder round, maybe you have to pick someone in your life (maybe that fits a theme or category?) to sing with you?

and im so glad savannaclaw rook's card came out because our weird king has freckles!! wohoo!!

rook picking a song that kind of describes mc through the lyrics and every time he gets to a line like that he makes -prolonged eye contact- with mc and it kinda messes them up because WHY ARE YOU STARING AT HER LIKE THAT- SIR- SIR???

MEL YOURE A FUCKING GENIUS

I NEBVER EVEN THOUGHT ABOUT FAIRIES

THEY COULD BE THE WORKERS WHO ARE TASKED BY THE COMPETITION TO HELP THE CONTESTANTS STAY WITHIN THE RULES AND TO MAKE SURE EVERYTHING GOES SMOOTHLY

I was thinking the exact same thing tbh, the fairies are treated horribly by the fame hungry contestants who only see them as 'measly employees' or even 'personal servants' to them via the show. but mc would be a little frightened by their gruff attitude but over time, as mc starts treating the fairies with upmost respect and kindness... they start telling their friends and the other fairies. and yeah, they start to favor mc and subtly and I mean SUBTLY sabotage the other contestants

ofc if beige was a contestant he'd treat hem nice too, but the fairies are kinda annoyed by him being TOO kind. because fairies are sassy, VERY sassy .

maybe to everyone else they're balls of light but to the contestants they're fairies? or maybe they only let you see their true form if they like you or trust you enough!

mc singing a love song and a bunch of 'fire flies' start dancing and twirling around them, only for it to be later released that it was the fairies. MAYBE A FAIRY WAS SCOUTING FOR NEW PARTICIPANTS AND THEY COME ACROSS MC AHHHH (at the end of the song when one is on mc's hand it bites her 😭 later that's her assigned fairy)

maybe after losing horribly one round mc is sad and singing a sad song, but the fairies come around and start playing and singing along until it becomes a happy song and they're all dancing. maybe... the fairy that at fist didn't like mc accidentally leaves the camera rolling and the whole of twisted wonderland actually SEES the fairies dancing and singing and playing with mc.

and there's a secret vote that no one in the history of the show has ever gotten. its called 'the fairies favor,' and its only bestowed to those who got eliminated but the fairies disagree with it and veto the vote. but the viewers have to agree with it?

the challenged are gonna be so weird ngl. like one is a theater challenge and another is writing your own song too. the show likes to make it hard- I mean entertaining so the viewers dont get bored. so you TRULY have to be a jack of all trades for this.

I haven't listened to that but I'll def give it a whirl 😼 I like to think that reader is really expressive through song and can come out with bangers. like I think that she def wins a challenge with 'wildflower, by billie eillish' after something bad happens. or maybe 'Andromeda, by weyes blood'

but the songs that mc uses to express her experiences and emotions make rook and vil develop a soft spot for her, and because they're really the only ones who know about all this, she slowly becomes a member (unofficially) of pomefiore (yes! evil scheming DOES work >:) )

[witchofsparkles]

Ghost was not having a very good day. It wasn’t the job in particular because it was expected of him to be used to it by now after 15 years of service; it was because the man right next to him grinning ear to ear as if he didn't just come out of a bloody combat with explosives, terrorists and flying limbs. The limbs were not belong to them, god bless, but especially the explosives were their doing.

Not theirs as a team, but the man who has a nasty smile's.

The explosives belonged to the reason of his headache for months, Soap.

Ghost tried not to fall for Soap's banter, but his mouth didn't know better. Even though he couldn’t even hear what the man was saying, Ghost replied sarcastically. "Yeah, Johnny. Sure, whatever you say."

What other answer there that could be said to everything? Yeah, sure. Whatever. Just please stop talking.

"You do think I'm pretty? Oh, that’s flattering. Thank you, sir. Please write that in the report so Price can see my charm too. It would work better coming from you, the big man with the mask." Ghost almost tripped down from the heli and crashed onto the mountains thousands fits down and at that moment he didn't think he would mind a good head trauma with a highly possible death.

He though to put a stop to it, to ruin the mood, but decided against. Ghost couldn’t avert his gaze fast enough, and his eyes locked with Soap for a split second. The carefree smile Soap sent to Ghost made his stomach flutter.

And Ghost would drink bleach if he knew it would kill the butterflies in his stomach.

Yeah, there was another reason for his headache and bad times in general.

Ghost was down bad in love with his Sergeant, John MacTavish.

Ghost watched Soap walking into the base with the other soldiers, laughing loudly and looking all hot in bloody gear. Ghost just stood next to the heli silently, tried to appear like he was busy with something, and checked Soap's back out. Ghost knew he wasn’t injured or anything, but who could be sure? In the heat of the war, blood full of adrenalin, everybody could make mistakes.

The reason of his gaze was purely professional and had nothing to do with how Soap's ass was moving with his every step. Totally.

"You might wanna take your chances, you know that right?" Ghost almost jumped out of his skin and his hand went to his knife reflexively.

"You know better to not sneak up on me, Price." Ghost relaxed his stance and put the knife back. Price was smiling at him.

"And I know that I can give you a very hard time if we had to fight. Anyway. You pray that there's a mask on your face. With how obvious you're about staring at Johnny, even my dead mom can come up and laugh at you."

Ghost inhaled sharply. "You call him Johnny again, we will see about that fight."

A laugh escaped Price. "God. Calm down, son. No one's taking him. Fine, I won't call him that. Jesus."

Ghost rolled his eyes. He wasn’t feeling like talking and yet he couldn’t shut up today. Also, he didn't want to think about Price's implication. "Why are you here? I was coming to report."

Price stroked his mustache, and that made Ghost's stomach drop with worry. "Why is your hand on your mustache? Who died?"

Price threw him a dirty look. "Why do everyone think like that when they see me? No one died. Not yet. And hopefully never. I changed my mind. You go rest, we will talk later when all of you available."

"You said no one died, yet. Why don't we talk now?" Ghost's knuckles were white from holding his west so hard. Something bad happened, he knew it.

Price stared at him again, a little longer than a second. "It's nothing out of ordinary. Just our everyday madness. You look like shit, and Soap looked like shit. If the only sane one is Gaz among you, I fear everyone will die. So, go rest. I will call you when you can open both of your eyes at will."

Ghost couldn’t sleep. It was expected, after how Price teased him with an apocalypse. In his mind, at least. If he didn't think the worst could happen, he wouldn’t be Ghost. He was so tense that Ghost thought his skin was gonna tear apart. His headache from the explosions was worse, and every single one of his muscles were hurting.

All stopped when he saw Johnny sitting at where Ghost was usually sitting. It was his secret place, a tiny corner with no noise and just darkness. The place he would come when the sleep didn't.

"Why are you here?" Ghost would love it if he didn't sound like a goddamn incubus.

Soap jumped, expectedly. Turned to him sharply, then took a deep breath when he saw who was it. "You almost had to file a suspicious dead report on me. Stop creating work for yourself."

Ghost snickered, that’s how his Johnny was. He was acting like a class clown, but Ghost wasn’t believing in that. All that laughing and joking, it was almost impossible in this job. When all you could see was the dead, your voice was turning into a whisper.

It was sadness that consumes you.

"It would take a lot more to kill you, Johnny." Ghost's voice was always deep, but for some reason it deepened. Like he was sharing a secret. Almost a whisper.

Johnny's eyes shimmered under the dim lights. They looked like stars for a moment, then Ghost corrected himself. Not stars, explosions. Fireworks.

"Is everything okay? Why don't you sleep? Were you thinking about something?" Johnny was looking up to him from where he was sitting, and Ghost was looking down. He wanted to take Johnny's face between his hands and brush the stubble at the corner of his mouth. He wanted to crash into his lips, taste him with his tongue, just sweep it across Johnny's lips and inside his mouth, feel the hot wetness of his saliva around his own tongue, to get Johnny's tongue in his mouth and crowd him in, to be able to get a fistful of Johnny's stupid mohawk while kissing with a lust that would shame Jesus himself that he would have to look away, he wanted to touch Johnny's every bit on his back and kiss him from his neck to down his happy trail, he wanted to be able to touch at the tip of him with just only a finger and make him moan for more-

"I was thinking about you."

Rest is on ao3:

[mythicalmaven]

PROMPTLIST [REQUESTS OPEN] | F1

masterlist

♥ I made a promplist in case people wanted to request something, but aren't sure what to :) ♥ Just let me know the numbers you've chosen, which driver(s) you want it to be about & if you want fluff or smut (or both) & I'll try to write it asap💕 (im open to write a lot of types of pairing, like f.e. f!reader, m!reader, driver x driver or maybe even a threesome or foursome, whatever you like)

♥which drivers can you request? lando norris, oscar piastri, daniel ricciardo, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, alex albon, george russell, pierre gasly, oliver bearman, franco colapinto, max verstappen, liam lawson, kimi antonelli, jack doohan

⬇️ Down here you can find a list with either fluff, smut, angsty prompts out of which you can choose (feel free to combine)

PROMPTLIST (smut&fluff)

"use my thigh"

"if you wanted to see me naked this bad, all you had to do was ask"

"like what you see?"

"don't be shy, touch me"

"keep your eyes on me, love"

"Can you be good for me?" 

"It's so hot when you talk like that." 

"if you keep looking at me like that, we won't make it to the bedroom"

"but what about the cameras?" - "they can't see us from this angle, if you stay still"

"you look su fucking hot right now"

"you have no idea what you do to me"

"do you wish it was *name* touching you right now?"

"you’re fucking soaked"

"Care to join me?"

"Do you like it when I talk like that?" 

“touch yourself, i want to watch"

"you can practice on me"

"fucking hell, if I knew you were this good, I would have gotten you on your knees earlier"

"Do you have any idea how many times I thought about you.. with my hand down my pants.."

"let them know you're mine"

"you want me, don't you?"

"don't make me say it"

"I..uh.." - "I have never done this before"

"We can take things slow if you want?"

"We don't have to have a label, if you don't want to"

"i didn't realize I was in love with you until it was too late to stop"

"okay, maybe I have a crush on you! So what?" 

"we shouldn't do this"

"Leave me alone." - "Don't say things you don't mean" 

"i don’t want anyone else."

"what does this make us?"

"Do you really think it’s so crazy to feel that way about me?"

"nobody can know about this, okay?"

"I think about you all the time."

"Are you blushing?! That’s adorable."

"you're so cute"

"So.. this is the part where we kiss, right?"

"I never thought you'd feel the same?"

"Did you just kiss me to shut me up?"

"I don’t want him/her. I want you."

"is that my shirt/hoodie/jacket?"

"My eyes are up here, babygirl:

"Jealous? Me? Pff.. absolutely not" - "Okay.. fine.. I am jealous. Happy now?"

"I'm not jealous, it's just that you belong to me"

"God, I am so in love with you"

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that"

"But.. I thought you said you didn't feel the same"

"For my sanity, i think we should start dating"

"Do you even need to ask?"

"I don't think I can explain it either, but yeah. Yeah, I do."

masterlist

[ananke-xiii]

More on the power of resurrection as the "apple of discord": Billie won theory.

So. Chuck vs Billie, it's all about the preservation of the natural order. Now if you ask me what "natural order" means in Supernatural I wouldn't really know how to answer. I think by that they meant a concept akin to that of metaphysical necessity, of a causality that's prior to space and time. However, Chuck has subdued the Moirai as we know from s6 and s15 and he controls life, death and space and time. Therefore, the natural order seems to be Chuck himself. Or he definitely thinks he is but he's really not 'cause, as it turns out, it doesn't really matter if Chuck exists as God, anybody who can contain God's power can become God. Just like any reaper who dies can become Death in case Death is absent. In other words, "Death" and "God" are just "roles" that virtually anybody with sufficient power and in the right circumnstances could play.

In this respect, Chuck is more powerful than Death because he can control space and time as he pleases while Billie can't. I mean, it appears on Supernatural that techinically Billie can manipulate space and time but her issue is precisely that: if you start manipulating space and time Death ultimately really means nothing since it's a concept that's intrinsically connected to these notions.

This is why, I think, resurrection is the core problem in the ultimate power struggle, i.e. God vs Death. As a concept, it defies the rules of Time. If resurrection can happen, then time is no longer irreversible and if time can be reversed then Death doesn't really need to exist. But apparently in Supernatural necessity is the ultimate force and Billie wants to protect that, she wants to protect the role of Death in the story. Surprisingly, in this view I find Chuck a litte bit more fascinating because he's not only playing around with his toys, he's actually messing with Necessity itself. And no smart God would have done that 'cause it only ends one way: a recknoning.

So following this probably unsteady logic, in the end Billie won. Because what did she want? In the words of the Shadow:

The Shadow: Become "New God." Classic narcissist, right? She's all tingly for the rules, the good-old days. [...] Everyone back to where they belong... realities, dimensions, graves. What should be dead dies, angels off Earth, demons back to Hell, and I go back to sleep.

It's always, always about "the good-old days" (insert teary gif from The Office's last episode).

She didn't get to become the "New God" because she made the same mistake as Chuck: inserted herself in the story, thought she could use Jack and focused all her attention on Dean Winchester without realizing who her real enemy was (as I've previously said, it's totally Castiel. It's always Castiel, Castiel must die die die for the story to end).

But if what mattered to her, power aside, if the reason why she wanted to become god was because she didn't want anybody to interfere with the natural order AND if it doesn't matter who Death and God are as long as they stay hands-off... then Billie totally won in the end.

And she won because Castiel died and didn't resurrect (more or less, he's somewhere in Heaven probably but we don't see him. Seeing is crucial in resurrection stories: if we don't see him he might as well be dead to us). Dean died and asked not to be resurrected (incidentally I should talk about how Billie's values align with Dean's but not today). Sam eventually dies too and Jack is... somewhere, sometime, being God all alone and in everything but without interfering with Necessity (and I should also talk about what the fuck they mean when Jack says "[people] just need to know that I'm already a part of them and to trust in that". LOL what people and what trust? And why should they care? Are these the same "people" Chuck didn't give a shit about? Chuck was already a hands-off type of God, hell, he was the absent father, right? Not just to the Winchesters and the Angels, no, he was humanity's absent father. Chuck self-inserted into the story just to play with his two toys, this has nothing to do with "people". They clearly didn't know how to end the show and tried to pull the mysticism card like they did in S11 but with worse results).

Order is indeed preserved. Time as we know it is safe. Still, there are monsters and Heaven and maybe even Hell, Purgatory and the Empty. God exists but doesn't interfere. Most importantly, Death has no obstacle and can do her job just fine. Everything in its place and a place for everything.

The universe is indeed many things. And sometimes it is poetic (justice).

[orquidborgo]

Well, I'm getting a fever and with a lot of ideas, so I'm going to write them here because I don't have anything better to do!

This are concepts/writing ideas I got that I have more or less the story made in my head but I never wrote it down because I don't have the confidence to publish anything (haha self esteem issues are so funny), so here they are:

Jake Muller, professional B.O.Wsitter

* I got this idea while reading a modern fantasy resident evil fanfic (where the wound drips venom from your soul), basically:

After the events of resident evil VI, Jake only accepted jobs that allowed him to fight B.O.W and protect people BUT that didn't get him a lot of money, with Sherry's birthday approaching he is thinking about taking a mercenary jobs that pays very well until he receives a call from Chris Redfield, go to the middle of nowhere in Nebraska(? I'm thinking about changing the location) on a mansion with everything paid to take care of 5 B.O.Ws, just not the way he though he would.

Perfect paintings

* I got this idea from reading a really short story from space marine husbandry (I think it was from @kit-williams, is a story about a custodes, idk I forgot, it was so long ago) but I never got the confidence to write it because I don't think I will write a good mystery piece that'll comply with my expectations:

Detective Arad Yilmaz approached the scene, this is the 4th murder this month, the murders follow a pattern: All of them were strangled to death, had long black hair, honey/light brown eyes, middle eastern heritage and where last seen interacting with a really tall astartes.

The location of the corpses leave a trail as if the murderer have been moving constantly, following the same movement as the chaos warbands path, now with this corpse being found by a Dark Angel the astartes want to take this matter in their own hands.

Will Arad be able to find the murderer, bring them to justice and avoid an all out war between astartes before is too late? The clock is ticking.

There is no home like the one your bonded is:

* After reading Cedric's story in space marine husbandry (I also forgot to say that Cedric belongs to @sleepyfan-blog, sorry) and watching the movie "Bolt" I got thinking, what happens when a space marine grows a bond with a human that lives in another country and is only visiting? So here it is:

Guillermo Testarossa is visiting the U.S.A for his winter vacation, following his aunt's advice to stave off boredom he ventures into the local astartes hospital with his aunt's bonded apothecary. There he meets an injured space wolf, the rest of his vacation he spends it talking and having fun with this astartes but not everything last forever and he has to comeback to his home country Argentina, saying his goodbyes and promising to comeback next year.

Unbeknownst to him, this space wolf will not wait an entire year, using a joke his brother-captain made as motivation, with a camera, a notepad and supplies on his back he embarks on a adventure walking from the U.S to Buenos Aires - Argentina to find his bonded, taking photos and recording everything he encounters in his journey. The only thing he knows is that his bonded lives in San Telmo, works in a coffee shop with private tango shows and studies electronic engineering.

Save us from ourselves

* I seriously need to read Magnus primarch novel because there is no way you are telling me a whole planet of highly trained psykers (this mfs have magic, mind you) with space travel technology didn't have a plan B to evacuate civilians in case of a invasion, and I also like Arknights a LOT so, this is kind of a crossover between 40k and arknights:

Rhode Island is an humanitarian/pharmaceutical organization that travels across space with the mission of saving psykers, protecting those infected with flesh change and find the cure of said illness, right know they have treatment and have developed technology to protect/stabilize psykers with it so they can live a normal life.

Marckus Ahriman is a young 16 year old field operator with signs of mutation and a big heart who wishes for a world where all psykers are free and flesh change is finally cured. In a fateful operation battling against a chaos incursion he finds a soul shard that "calls" to him, upon touching it he remembers: he Magnus the Red, primarch of the Thousand Sons and son of the Emperor of Mankind, or well... A shard of him.

My big... Primarch?: Friendship is Magic (this is a temporary title)

* I watched a few episodes of my little pony so this is a crack fic, don't mind it that much:

During her fight against Starlight Glimmer through timelines; Twilight Sparkle gets "knocked out", but when she wakes up again to try and stop Starlight, she ends up in Magnus's body as a baby. So is basically her dealing with 40k insanity, family issues and trying to go back to her home.

She would try to understand why the other primarchs are so apprehensive of magic and would try to befriend them: She would try and not use magic in front of Mortarion after knowing his trauma and help him through it the best she can, would cure Angron of his nails, Leman would finally like her because she gets tired of his bullshit and start throwing hands and things like that.

Magnus's regular day

* With how pridefull is Magnus about magic, I'm surprised he hasn't gotten in a lot of psychic shenanigans in "regular show" style, every chapter would be Magnus getting into a crazy adventure, sometimes pulling his brothers, any of his sons or a unfortunate custodes along the ride.

The Emperor, Malcador and Constantin are just... Done with his magical bullshit at some point and just let him be because they know that he'll somehow fix it at the end.

So... Yep. This is all I got.

[summercreolefanfictioner]

the scent wafts in, her name making him beg on his knees chap 1.1

pairing: dabi / todoroki touya x fem!oc / reader (MODERN AU)

summary: He mentions her name after 6 months in therapy, absentmindedly narrating vivid memories of her. She was the only good thing during his darkest times.

(In which Touya returns home after rebelling against his family for 7 years. And no, it wasn't about forgiveness. He wanted to fix himself because of a certain someone.)

themes: nsfw, domestic abuse, violence, alcoholism, cigarette smoking, toxic relationships, mental health, co-dependency and other related themes (YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED)

notes: for this one, pls keep in mind that touya didn't have much scars on his face; mostly are on his body to accomodate the plot; charas might be ooc since this is modern au

Todoroki Touya has returned; it wasn't a drill.

The eldest of the Todoroki family has returned, and it was all over the news like wildfire. Pictures of him were around tabloids and newspapers, imprinted on TV screens along with family pictures of his 13-year-old self as news anchors and writers all over Japan broadcasted about the Endeavor Corp. finally having its original heir back to where he belonged. Two years ago, Todoroki Shouto announced he wouldn't be the one to replace his father, Todoroki Enji as the owner and CEO of their family business. However, Shouto focused on one part of the Endeavor Corp., particularly their sports and training business, as he wanted to become a personal trainer someday.

Touya was aware of what was happening on the business side of his family despite his rebellion seven years ago. After all, he saw them all over the news, watched his father on TV, and observed how everything was faring for them. So when he returned to the main house, he was a bit surprised at a few details he had missed. For one, his mother, Todoroki Rei, had already been discharged from the mental ward, faring well and welcoming him back with a big, warm hug and fat tears rolling down her cheeks. It also seemed that things were a lot better between his parents, but some of them still held reluctance to forgive their father.

Particularly him and Natsuo.

Enji was aware of their hatred towards him, hence he would talk to them politically, as Enji the CEO of the Endeavor Corp., not as their own father. Toya believed it was only fair. He would've resorted to violence if that wasn't the case. Speaking of which, that was another reason, he returned.

"I have to settle things between this family and me once and for all," he informed them on the first day of his return. "I need to talk to Father."

He knew what Enji would say to him. His father will apologize and be remorseful over what happened. He will also mention about him being his successor in the future, even though he was having none of it.

"I don't need that title anymore," Touya coldly argued, resisting the urge to punch him in the face as he knew he wouldn't defend himself after everything he had done to them since they were kids. "Not from you, specifically."

Enji understood. Touya meant, "I will have that title by my own hands, not because you passed it to me cheap because Shouto didn't want it anymore." Afterwards, his father explained everything he was required to do before his first day in the company. He also mentioned something along the lines of, "You need to undergo rehab and therapy for a while. I knew what you have been up to these past seven years with your cigarette addiction and alcoholism."

Before, Touya would violently react, would be against his decision and say, "You're just scared because I might surpass you." Now, he just nodded at his direction much to Enji's surprise.

"Why are you so shocked? You think I will half-ass my return to this family?" Toya questioned, slightly mocking him.

"I know you wouldn't," Enji commented.

And before Toya left his office, he added: "Just so you know, I am not doing this for the family."

Enji raised a questioning brow.

"I'm doing this because of a certain someone."

------

The first few months of Touya's rehab and therapy were tough as shit, gnawing at him like sharps and digging his soul like he was trapped in darkness. He felt overwhelmed by everything, talking about his feelings all day, breaking out of his shell, and slightly wanting to just break things and be alone. Touya craved darkness at some point, the urge to be violent creeping on his shoulder like the devil even though a rational part of him warned him that it would not be the best choice. He wanted to destroy himself at this point, missing the familiar pain his piercings left on his ears and nose. He was breathing hard to calm himself, persuading his brain to shut its damn trap.

It's getting annoying, fucking shit. Everything's been chaotic.

The first few days were blank, spending it staring at mindless paintings and counting how many times the water from the faucet dropped in the sink. It was eerie yet relaxing, the silence enveloping him like a plague until it bit back to tell him how much madness he needed to unleash but couldn't. He secretly had his mp3 player in his pocket, and he would watch the door and the shadow underneath, checking if someone would come in. To this day, he still couldn't take it out.

He missed that damn voice, but he needed to be patient. He shouldn't miss her. He shouldn't think about her. This is nothing, he convinced himself. This is nothing compared to all the abuse I've endured before. The angry stare. The hateful remarks. The violent beatings. The disapproval underlying Enji's tone. His rough hand smacking him in the face. The burning scars left on his skin from the heating iron. The pitiful stares. The blood he spat from his mouth.

Everything.

EVERYTHING.

I WANNA DIE.

Out of panic, he quickly reached for the mp3 player from his pocket, a secret he kept from the treatment center. He wasn't supposed to have any gadgets with him, but he knew he had to. He couldn't drink alcohol. He couldn't smoke a stick to curb this annoying feeling. He cannot destroy shit. But he had to hear that soothing voice. He had to endure.

He put in the earbuds and played the audio, his breathing coming down in sighs as he felt himself relaxing.

"Touya..."

"Yes, call me that," he said to no one, tears streaming down as he smiled in satisfaction.

"Touya..."

"Touya..."

"Are you awake?"

"I made you breakfast."

"Touya..."

"Do you want me to take an off day from work?"

"Yes," he answered, hugging the pillow beside him and imagining it was her. "Just stay. Stay with me."

"Touya..."

"I love you..."

"Touya..."

I love you too.

------

Touya has learned something, and that therapy was another form of circle from hell, or that was just him. He heard people preach about therapy all the time, that undergoing therapy healed them, made them see the light at the end of the tunnel, and had them humbled in a way they could never explain. Touya wished it was the same for him, but nah. It wasn't. Therapy was another circle from hell. It made him too vulnerable, too open he could feel the burnt scars on his skin itching too much the more the therapist asked him about himself.

He also thought his therapist couldn't care less about his minimal responses, the first few days boring him as the man asked about his name, how old he was, what he did for a living after he ran away, what helped him cope—you know, the basic questions every therapist could ask for.

"Todoroki Touya. 26. I did odd jobs. Alcohol. Cigarettes. Fighting."

The therapist looked displeased, he noted. He probably wanted more answers than that.

"Have you been in therapy before?"

"No."

"What do you expect from this session?"

"I don't know."

"Why are you seeking therapy?"

If he was being honest, Touya's answer would be: "I don't know? Just to get this shit done, I guess?" Not like he would be rude now. After all, he returned as Todoroki Touya after seven years of rebelling. He should keep his damn trap if he wanted them all back.

Even her.

"Do you want to become a better person?"

"Yes."

[simplyshelbs16xoxo]

Stuck at the bookstore until 3. Normally I wouldn't mind, but most of the people who have walked in here have been either annoying or an asshole.

[fazcinatingblog]

Went to the toilet for the first time today at 2pm (Colleening), got out and Sophia had called so I rang her back and she's like "have you got any invoices out??? What have you done all day????"

[bi-writes]

idk just thinking about seeing your lieutenant for the first time, this big giant dog of a man, and thinking to yourself, "hmmm yeah, i'm gonna make that thing mine." (18+)

like. i'm thinking about seeing him walk into the room for the first time. fresh off an op, still in all his gear. he's angry cause he's been awake off and on for 40 hours at this point, and he sinks down into a chair in the mess hall, and your eyes bug cause the chair fucking bends with his weight.

and you're just like "omg omg omg holy shit" cause this fucking brute is just huge and beefy, and you had no idea this was your type until you watched his hand curl around a cup and make it look miniature. and you're wondering like "fuck i bet those holsters are custom made" cause you don't think you've ever seen them stretch that far around someone's thigh.

ughghghghgh, and he's dumb as shit, too, or maybe he's just fucking blind. you give him every hint in the book, every indication of how you feel other than pasting a giant neon sign on your forehead that says "fuck me."

you wear the tightest cargo pants you can get. you let the buttons on your shirts go low whenever he's near. you make excuses to see him late, delivering him paperwork in the middle of the night, meeting him out for a smoke (and he's never seen you smoke anything), shuffling your way in front of him in line so you can bump into him and graze your ass against his front. he even catches you this way--even curls his hand around your waist and steadies you before letting you go impatiently.

fuck, bending over in front of him, the obnoxious giggling, the excuses to dangle your tits in his face. you want this man underneath you, on top of you, tangled around you and suffocating you with those enormous arms, and he barely side-glances at you whenever you're in his vicinity, and it's infuriating.

what do you have to do to reel this thing in? how many bones do you have to give him?

how many times do i have to flash my bra at you for you to fuck me over your desk?!

you can't eat another cherry in front of him. you can't drop more sauce onto your cleavage. you cannot come out of the showers in just a towel in front of him anymore because you're going to lose your fucking mind--

you even made out with his beloved little sergeant, his favorite little know-it-all that can't stop blowing shit up. that blue-eyed, insufferable, yapper of a scot that kisses all wet, with teeth, who pants like a puppy when he asks if he can 'ave a taste of y'r bonnie cunt, please, please, please--

and you say yes, because maybe he'll finally fucking shut up if you drown him between your thighs and never let him come up for air.

face down, ass up, cargos around your ankles, hips pushing past against that puppy's stubble as he devours you on his knees. his big hands spread your ass for him, and his thumbs flick over your folds as he opens you up, a cackle leaving him before he opens his mouth wide and kisses your pussy all sloppy and uncoordinated.

when the door swings open and hits the wall with a bang, the puppy tries to leave. he tries to move, but you reach back and grip his mohawk, scowling as you shove his face back where it belongs as your lieutenant stands at the door and heaves with anger.

"uh uh," you snap, and your sergeant on his knees whines, his blue eyes a little foggy and wet as he blinks up at you. but he complies, his tongue slurping, and you flutter your lashes at your lieutenant as you keep johnny muzzled in your cunt. "sorry, lieutenant. is this your office? must've read the sign wrong."

you reel from the contact. a big hand grips you by the hair, slamming you down against his desk, and you choke as you try and gasp for air. like a good boy, johnny settles where he is, shoving his tongue down your hole and moaning low when he realizes you're dripping down his chin now that his lieutenant has you.

"y'think this is funny, eh?" ghost mutters in your ear. "y'think i don't know wot y'r doin'? think i 'aven't caught on, think i 'aven't noticed wot a fuckin' insatiable bloody pain in my arse you've been ever since y'got 'ere?!"

you whimper, relaxing against the desk, and ghost tugs at your hair again, shaking his head.

"oi! y'don't get to be stupid just because y'r gettin' y'r cunny played with," ghost snaps. "y'r a right headache."

you laugh, getting up to your elbows, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as ghost scruffs johnny by the base of his mohawk and cups your pussy with one big hand. you gasp, leaning your head back, because finally, yes, it's all i want, please, please, please--

"'f you wanted to be my pet so bad," ghost murmurs, fitting himself behind you, leaning over your shoulder as he spits into your ear, "all ya had to do was fuckin' ask, swee'eart."

when your eyes open, ghost hums, clicking his tongue under the mask.

"use y'r words," he growls. "be a good girl, and say wot it is y'want."

"want you," you whine, and he sighs deeply, closing his eyes, and you drown out the sounds of johnny sputtering at your feet as ghost bends you at the hip a little more, arching your back.

"mmm...tha'sit. was tha' so hard?"

[webism]

satoru who keeps proposing to you in the most unconventional moments—namely when he's got you dizzy from your fourth or fifth orgasm of the night.

satoru who knows some people get emotional when they climax, some get animalistic and rough, some get overwhelmed by pleasure. and maybe he's a mixture of them all, he absolutely has his nights, but for the most part: he gets sentimental.

satoru who has to deal with the roll of your eyes when he's knuckles deep inside of you, lips only millimetres from yours when he's whispering, begging, "c'mon, let me marry you. you don't wanna feel a ring on these fingers baby? tell me you don't."

satoru who knows you want to be proposed to properly. and he's planning on it, he really is, but he can't help but get caught up in his feels when you just look so pretty laid out for him. who can't bear not recognising you as his through every means necessary. he wants it to be lawful, recognised in the system that you wholly belong to him. maybe knock you up for good measure, attach a birth certificate to the proof that you're his.

satoru who has you shaking on his cock, fucked near-senseless for the second time that night. you're a babbling mess, galaxies away from earth in that pretty little mind of yours. he's not sure you even remember your own name at this point, all you're managing is a string of 'yesyesyesyesyes' that has his balls aching to empty inside of you again and again. 'marry me' he says in response, and rolls his eyes when you purse your lips shut in protest.

satoru who has even brought a ring. one you'd hit him for buying if you ever saw the price tag on it, but he knows you're worth the paycheck or six that it took.

satoru who keeps that ring on his person at all times; he never knows when the perfect sunset might happen and he'll be forced to a knee.

satoru who also can't help but slip the ring onto your finger while he's got your hands pinned above your head and his cock seated deeper inside of you than its ever been. who cums immediately at the sight of such a pretty set of jewels on your wedding finger, who almost regrets his orgasm because it blinds him for a few moments and he's trying to savour the sight of that ring on your finger.

satoru who knows you're getting sick of the lust-driven proposals. who plans on proposing one night, he's got everything planned, he's even made sure you've had your nails done for the upcoming ring photos you're sure to share. who is actually sick with nerves despite knowing what you'll say.

satoru who sits on your shared bed and is gently urging you to get ready quicker, lest you miss the sunset he's planning on proposing in front of. but you have other plans, climbing over him to straddle his lap, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of his nose. and you lean in, whisper the filthiest thing you've ever said to him~

satoru gojo, who cums in his pants at the words 'I'll marry you.'