#i started writing the au but 😅😅😅

[scary-grace]

Readers listens to artists like Lord Huron, wave to earth,day6, the last shadow puppets that sort of vibe. Their music tastes are similar enough for the most part however if a song is a little too romantic he will second guess himself because what if she doesn't know that he's playing for her (she does) or what if she thinks its weird (she thinks its the cutest thing in the world)

Unfortunately writing is not a talent I possess however if you wanted to write it I would simply be obsessed. You are my favorite Shigaraki fic writer and I know youd be able to do my silly little idea justice😭(If you do decide to write it please feel more than welcome to change reader's music taste to something more comfortable for you if you'd like! I know not every artist is for everyone) But I just wanted to thank you so much not only for the amazing work you put out but also for being so kind!

Ahh, thank you for the kind words about my writing! I’ve been thinking about this AU all day long, and this is my first shot at the first not-meeting between Tomura and the reader! I like the music taste you’ve given her (esp the Lord Huron) but I wanted the first song to be a little more egregious 😅 if this is what you had in mind I’d love to write more!

When Tomura rented this apartment, he had no idea the walls were so fucking thin. No matter where he is in the apartment, he can hear absolutely everything that’s going on around him. The couple in the apartment above him fighting. The couple in the apartment on the left having such obnoxiously loud sex that he almost wonders if they’re doing it just to piss him off. The guys below him would be all right, except they play Mario Kart twenty-four seven, with the volume on. Any time Tomura wants to do anything — take a nap, do his homework, play guitar, get two seconds to think — he has to do it along the right-side wall of his one-bedroom apartment. At least that’s where his bedroom is.

It sucks not to be able to use most of the apartment he’s paying for. Tomura’s going to host a jam session here in revenge as soon as he can get the rest of the band to pay attention instead of spending forever decorating their own apartments in nicer buildings than this one. In the meantime, there’s at least one spot where he can hear himself think.

Tomura knows there’s somebody living in the apartment on the right. You moved in a day or so after Tomura did, and he only knows what you look like because you asked him where the laundry room is. You were smiling when you asked him, and you’re cute, so of course he fucked it up and just pointed instead of telling you or asking for your name. You’re cute and you’re quiet. That makes you Tomura’s favorite neighbor by default.

He’s sprawled out on his bed, tuning his guitar in preparation for band practice tonight, when he hears you humming on the other side of the wall. At first he thinks you’re just humming random notes, which he doesn’t hate as long as you’re on-key, which you are. In the time it takes for Tomura to recognize the hook, you’ve already started singing.

“Yeah, it’s over, it’s over, I’m circling these vultures, got me praying, man, this hunger, feeling something rotten —” Sit Next to Me, Foster the People. Tomura doesn’t hate the song choice. “Last time I saw you, said “What’s up?” and pushed right through. Then I tried to catch you, but we’re always on the move…”

“And now it’s over, we’re sober, symptoms of the culture,” Tomura mumbles under his breath, “and the night ain’t getting younger, last call’s around the corner —”

“Feeling kind of tempted and I’m pouring out the truth, fading out these talkers ‘cause now all I want is you, just sayin’ —“

“Come over here, sit next to me,” Tomura sings, only to remember that he’s not the band’s lead singer and there’s a reason for that. He shuts up in a hurry, and you keep singing. We can see where things go naturally, just say the word and I’ll part the sea —”

The walls are thin. So thin that they might as well be hospital privacy curtains, which means that if Tomura could hear you humming, you can definitely hear him singing. This is a nightmare. It’s a good thing Tomura doesn’t live in the same building as any of his bandmates. With how goddamn fucking thin the walls are, they’d have heard him singing a nonconsensual duet with the girl in the apartment next to him, and they’d never let him live it down.

He’s not going to live it down anyway. When he gets to band practice still humming Sit Next To Me, he gets roasted so hard by the rest of the band that he’s surprised his guitar case doesn’t catch on fire.

[crabsnpersimmons]

New 'Do, Same You now on Ao3!!

it's here! my silly hairdresser AU that sparked from my silly page of doodles is now a fic!! i hope you'll give it a read!

In the mood for something new? Come on in for a new hairdo! Day or night, dusk or dawn, Find what you're looking for at the Shooting Star Salon!

EDIT: they're handing out coupons for the salon! 20% off all services! Not valid with other offers. Valid until end of January 2025. (some of them are drawn in crayon by Clip himself 🖍️)

[vampirecatprince]

I can't believe it's only been a little over a week since I was beat over the head with this AU idea?

[savvylittlecoxswain]

“Not in tune yet. I’ll get ’em there, Coach.”

[kaye-go-moo]

Shapes and Strange Ciphers AU: From States Away

SaSC by me

Shapes and Pines by @/void-dude

Next Part

Tad and Bill

Two exhausting days of what Bill could only describe as hell had left him on the brink of collapse. He had made little progress in dismantling the portal, a bottomless pit of hopelessness dragged him into back to the idea of blowing up everything. He had all the materials—just a bit of assembling followed by a quick and painless—

Knock knock

Bill froze, his thoughts spiraled. Ford! Is he back in another corpse? Did he make a new deal? Bills mind raised with panic before he was hit with a confused realization. Why is he knocking?

Cautiously, Bill approached the door, busted torch in one hand, metal pipe in the other. He strained to peered through the frosted glass, nearly dropping the pipe when he saw who it was—Tad.

Bill wanted to throw open the door and hug him, but fear held him back. What if Ford had possessed him? He couldn't risk it. Gingerly, he cracked open the door and tossed out the torch before slamming it shut. “Stand close to the glass,” he shouted, and “and shine the light in your eye!”

-

Tad stared at the door, then down at the torch in confusion. Slowly, he picked it up and did as told, leaning close to the glass. Through the frosted pane, he could see Bill’s blurry figure, shifting slowly as he inspected Tad. After muffled sound of approval, Bill fully opened the door.

Tad’s excitement shifted into horror as he registered Bill’s state. His face was gaunt, his eyes sunken, and his hair a long, tangled mess. He wore a black hoodie that did little to hide his frail body. Tad hesitated before walking in, eyeing the metal pipe Bill had clutched in his shaking hands.

“Bill? What happened?” Tad stammered out, rattled by Bills appearance, “Bill—” Tad was cut off, startled by Bill launching into a frantic summary of the past decade. His words tumbled out disjointedly, shifting from one thought to another. It was an unsorted mess of word vomit that left Tad reeling and his head spinning. But what had left Tad truely unnerved were Bill’s fearful glances to an empty space—glaring at some invisible monster.

Tad tried interjecting, attempting to get Bill to calm down, but Bill kept talking over him. When Bill mentioned how things were for the past week, being locked in a closet, barely eating or sleeping, Tad spoke over him.

"Woah, Bill—slow down. What do you mean you were locked in a closet?"

Bill opened his mouth to speak but faltered. Tad stepped closer, extending a gentle hand, “Bill?”

Bill ignored the outstretched hand, taking the torch from Tad and handing him the pipe, before turning to walk away. “It’ll be better if I show you.”

Tad wavered by the open door, staring down at the pipe in his hand, his thoughts a mix of worry and confusion. He took a breath, shrugging off his growing anxiety, before shutting the door, setting down the pipe, and following Bill.

Leading the way with the busted torch, Bill led Tad through the broken wall, past the busted closet door, and into the portal room. He showed Tad the portal, recounting his actions from the past three days with a nervous urgency. “This is why I wrote to you. Tad, I need you’re help to dismantle it.” 

Tad stood in stunned silence, glancing between Bill and the portal before letting out a shaky breath “I—” his voice caught in his throat, his mouth felt dry. He coughed, then continued , “I think we should go upstairs and sleep. Just for now. I mean, if were gonna take this thing apart, we should be well-rested, right?”

Bill was taken aback, “What? No. Tad, This can’t wait. It needs to be dismantled now. Don’t you understand that?” He continued, trying to explain everything again but slowly trailed off, "Tad… you believe me. Right?“

Tad quickly nodded, “Yes. Yes, of course I believe you, Bill. I’m just—” He hesitated, “I’m worried. Bill, you… you look awful, it—its all just… alot.” He heaved a sigh and and placed his hand on Bill's shoulder, “Bill, please, lets go upstairs. God knows the both of us could use the sleep.” He let out rueful laugh.

Bill stared back blankly, briefly looking behind Tad before his expression twisted in frustration. He shrugged off Tad's hand and backed away. "I thought you’d understand. I thought I could trust you."

“I do understand, Bill. Honestly, I do.” Tad reached out again, “And you can trust me. I promise, you can—” Bill jerked away, a look of betrayal plastered on his face, his eyes darting between Tad and the empty space. 

“Bill. Come on, I—”

"You think I'm crazy, don't you!" Bills barked, causing Tad to flinch back before he tried speaking again, “What, no! I don’t think that, Bill. I would never—”

“Go!” Bill barked, turning away, ”Just leave.” He whispering angrily through gritted teeth, trying to control himself.

“No, Bill I—I didn’t mean to—I don’t want to—” Tad reached out to grab Bill’s shoulder, gently pulling him back before—

Tad cried out in pain as he fell into a tangle of loose wires. He pressed his hand against his stinging face. A thick liquid trickling down his cheek and the smell of copper filled his nose. He pulled back his hand, reeling away at the sight of blood.

Tad jerked his head towards Bill who stared back in horror. He… he hit me. Tad looked to Bills hands, the busted torch held tightly in his grip. Bill hit me.

Bill approached, saying something Tad was too stunned to make out. He tried backing away but the wire kept him trapped. Bill stepped closer, reaching to grab Tad. Tad reared his legs back and kicked Bill away.

Bill stumbled back and fell onto the portal switch, crumpling to the ground. He looked up in a daze and was horrified to see the portal roaring to life. He scrambled to his feet but his legs gave out and he fell back to his knees. He tried standing again, but his body was caught and pulled by a new gravity.

Tad fought to free himself from the wire but his attention was pulled away by the sound of Bills screams. He looked up and saw Bill’s floating, his silhouette illuminated by the blue light of the portal.

"Help me! Tad! Please!" Bill kicked at the air, clawing desperatly towards Tad.

Tads movements became more frantic as he ripped away the wires, "Bill! I'm trying! Bill! I—"

Bill's body disappeared, engulfed by the spinning light. With a blast and flash of light, Tad was knocked back into the wire. He scrambled to free himself, “Bill! Oh god, Bill!” he raced towards the portal, searching for Bill. But he was gone.

-----

Lore Comments

[good-beanswrites]

That LCSYS and OoA crossover got me wondering about Fuuta.

How does he feel about being in Mahiru's place and Amane being in his place? How does he act around them?

How does he act during his interrogation?

Poor guy isn't cut out for this role, but he's doing his best! I had some format fun with this one -- I took your OoA chapter of his interrogation and put Fuuta's LCSyS thoughts in between, I think it worked out well! I discovered some new things about Fuuta's mindset in the au through the process of writing, it was really interesing :0

(Trigger warnings for suicidal thoughts, including a brief mention of Haruka's situation. There's also something about Fuuta repeatedly stopping Es from getting Shidou.)

Fuuta heard Es' footsteps approaching. He took a measured breath. In and out. His exhale trembled a bit from nerves. He figured he could use that to his advantage.

Es entered the cell and took in the layout. Fuuta was propped up in a hospital bed, his neck and torso securely braced and his left arm in a sling. He was kneading a Jackalope stress toy with his right hand, digging his nails into it. More stress toys stood on the table to his right, and Es almost tripped on one a few feet ahead. As Fuuta saw Es approaching, he dropped what he was holding and swatted the rest out of his reach.

"Been a… while, Warden," Fuuta said. Es was expecting more malice in his tone, but he sounded like his life force was draining.

Fuuta hadn't liked the idea of playing the damsel in distress. He wasn't some sickly bedridden patient with a quivering voice and trembling limbs. Thankfully, Mahiru and Mikoto had talked him into taking a different angle: some of their favorite books and movies featured a battle-weary hero, weak from the fight and scorning the cowards that didn't fight alongside him. That seemed doable, he thought. He put an extra pant into his breath, hoping to evoke the thought of messy wounds from his brawl with Kotoko.

"Fuuta… you…" They pulled a chair to the side of the table and took a seat. "Are you okay?"

That's their opening? What kind of fucking question is that?

He kept Mahiru's pointers in his head, picturing a bloodied and bandaged knight, or maybe an action hero resting up after getting riddled with bullets. He forced his voice to come out more tired than he felt.

"…look like it?" Fuuta responded. If he was angry, his voice did a terrible job of showing it.

Es didn't know how to respond. Do I look like it? was obviously a rhetorical question, but they needed to show some tact.

After a moment, Fuuta spoke up again. "…look awful… don't I?"

Still unsure of what to say, Es nodded slightly.

Heh. Good. Time to twist the knife a bit. Play the confident card, make them feel guilty. They'll see how strong I am -- how strong I've always been -- and what a mistake it was to let me fall so far.

"Could've been worse. Could've died."

Es stared down, pondering their next words. Several seconds passed.

Fuuta watched them. He felt a sinking in his stomach. Their sullen silence wasn't what he'd been anticipating. He wouldn't have been satisfied with a lot of possible responses, but he'd still been expecting something. Where was their respect? Their remorse? Their pity? Anything? He reached his arm out.

A loud knock on the table got their attention.

"Oi… talking to you." Fuuta's irritated glare met Es as they lifted their head.

"I'm sorry," they said, "I'm… I'm not sure what I can say."

"Don't know what to say? I almost died because of… you don't know… Even so, it's a miracle I … If Shidou had taken any longer, would've been over for me. Don't blame him, though.

I think I've said too much -- Shidou said only a few sentences at a time...

It was impossible to keep it short, though. Es just told him that they have nothing to say in defense of his near-death. Did he really mean so little to Es that they wouldn't even dignify him with an explanation?

"…Oi, say something."

"Sor-"

"Sorry won't cut it." Fuuta sounded more pained than angry.

That was easier to accomplish now that he was actually feeling some pain. After everything, all Es had to say was a half-hearted "sorry."

So, they really don't care about me...

Es took a breath. "…Kotoko did this to you?"

Well then, I guess I'll just have to make them care.

"No sh… agh…" Fuuta gasped for air.

"Fuuta!" Es got up and walked to his side. "I'll go get Shidou-"

"Don't!" Fuuta's eyes betrayed his desperation.

Only when my pain is thrown directly in my face do they give a damn. And they were going running off to Shidou, anyway! Though maybe...

After they locked eyes for a few moments, Fuuta let out a chuckle. "Look … you … down on me, like always. Must be so happy to see…"

"I- no, I'm not. I didn't mean for this to happen. I didn't think Kotoko would-"

"Beat me to near-death? What'd you expect … you affirmed her…"

"I…"

"…thought she wouldn’t have … same crime here in…"

It seemed Es was finally listening, finally trying to open themself to him. And all of the sudden, Fuuta hated it. He felt paranoid under their gaze. He wasn't sure if it was fear of them seeing through his false injuries, or fear of another judgement from them. Regardless, he felt his pulse race with the way they were watching him.

"Oi, quit standing… staring…"

"I’m sorry, I didn't think-"

"Useless… apology…"

But what else could Es do besides apologize? Stand their ground and contradict Fuuta while he was in that pitiful state?

Fuuta was tired of their weak apologies. If Es had the conviction to name him guilty, they should toughen up and admit it.

With a deep breath, Fuuta forced himself to stay slumped into the bedsheets. He was getting riled up, but couldn't afford to look to strong.

"Really didn't think it'd… turn out… Me too. All I did… call some bad person out… say what's wrong was wrong…"

Es' gaze had become intense again. Those eyes, staring into his. Studying his injuries. Studying his expression.

Staring.

Staring.

Staring.

"Their reasons were b-" Fuuta gasped and clutched his chest. Es began to turn towards the door, but Fuuta grabbed their cape with his right hand.

Why can't they just offer help themself? Why do they go running off to someone else at the first sign of trouble? Am I really so disliked they can't face me?

Es swatted his hand away. "Hey, you can't just grab me like that."

"Don't dare…"

"Fine, I won't get Shidou. Yet." Es stood in place and waited for Fuuta to regain his voice.

Fuuta pretended to catch his breath, using the time to muster up something to say. If he wasn't so insistent on Es taking some responsibility for themself, he'd consider letting them call Shidou and just end this whole interrogation. He was ready to jump up and start swinging.

He itched to leap out of bed and give Es a real piece of his mind. He repeated the others' advice and pleading for him to keep his temper in check for the sake of the experiment. He thought of Amane -- how eagerly she awaited her own interrogation. All of this had been her plan, after all. As miserable as he was, he wouldn't ruin everything before she got her turn.

No, I will not steal her trial.

"You judged me… said I was unforgivable… without the whole story… How's that any different?"

"Excuse me?"

"That's so hypo- khh!" Fuuta slammed his hand on the table, trying to play it off as an emphasis, but that didn't mask his pain.

"Careful, Fuuta! You'll hurt-" Es gave up on that concern when Fuuta glared.

Pssh, like they actually care.

"Someone died because of you. You're saying I'm the same?"

"I didn't think they'd die!"

"But you knew people would dogpile them."

"I wasn't acting alone. Anyone else… out of my control… Why'd you pick me…"

"Milgram has judged-"

"Milgram doesn't make any f-"

Maybe Es should have put their foot down and called Shidou regardless of Fuuta's wishes. But something compelled them to hear him out. "Don't push yourself."

He tried to gauge if they were being sincere. He wasn't sure if he only mistook it as genuine concern since he was hoping for that so very badly.

Fuuta was clearly annoyed, but he took a breath and continued. "Still don't see it? We're just the same!"

"Me? The same as you?" Es couldn't deny Fuuta's point. They both made their judgments without thinking that someone could be seriously hurt—or dead.

That's got their mind turning, huh? I've got 'em now -- even if they don't feel like taking responsibility for my condition, I can subtly get them to take responsibilty for anothers'.

Fuuta was not known for his subtlety.

"I'll tell you. They were just in middle school. Maybe closer to Amane… than you…"

"Amane…" Es already knew this from what they gleaned from Fuuta's first video, but it didn't register how close in age their victims were. Wait, why were they thinking of Amane as a victim? "Amane… huh… I noticed you two have been spending a lot of time together lately."

"You kidding? Don't change the subject... You don't talk about her like… Only one who cared before everything went to hell. You made her go through it. Decided she wasn't forgivable… painted a target… She could've died too! Then we'd be exactly…"

"Don't put me on the same level as you."

He took another moment to calm himself. His "broken" arm clenched into a fish underneath the blankets. It made sense that Es wouldn't want to talk about the other prisoners during his interrogation, but their avoidance of Amane made his blood boil.

"Are you not-"

"I'm just doing my job. Nobody told you to go online and decide who are bad people and harass them. You made a game out of judgment. This is what I'm supposed to do."

Fuuta laughed at Es for still failing to acknowledge their similarities. Then he winced in pain. Then he kept laughing and mocking Es for taking their job seriously.

It was difficult to keep up the act the whole time, but he was always quick to recover each time he slipped up. He was doing this for the others. All hope for himself was lost, but at least he could do this for the others.

Es snapped back. A pointless, cyclical conversation. Fuuta stopped Es from calling Shidou no less than three times.

If he had to sit here and suffer through this interrogation, so did Es.

Eventually, the bell brought the conversation to a halt.

Silence.

Why was Fuuta so quiet?

"Hey… Fuuta?" Es leaned over to get a better look at his face. His eyes seemed glassy, and he seemed to be breathing more slowly. "Fuuta… I'll go get-"

"Don't. Not worth…"

"Worth what?"

"If you're not going to… forgive… what's the point… living?"

Fuuta would just chalk it up to getting too in-character, when the others asked.

"Don't say-"

"Everything hurts so much."

This feeling of betrayal. Of loneliness. The fact that I was the first named unforgiven. The fact that I'd be the first attacked, making me the victim -- not a hero, nor a warrior. The fact that you knew all along. You knew I was none of those things. You saw right through my act, to the real me, the one who is a victim. And that's why you acted the way that you did. You're trying to do your job without hurting me any more, as if I'm something fragile to be handled carefully. And that hurts most of all.

To keep things on track, he added,

"Painkillers don't help… Strange wonder I survived. Is it really worth it?"

"Worth it…" What could Es even say about that? Anything they could think of was either more unwanted pity or…

A cold accusation that Fuuta was bargaining his life for forgiveness. Es's thoughts flitted back to Haruka's interrogation- no, that comparison was unfair. Haruka's loaded intentions were worlds away from Fuuta's resignation. How could Es dare…

"I understand… this job requires resolve…"

"Resolve? You really have resolve… just kill me. With your own two hands. Don't hide behind the rules."

Look who's talking...

"I can't do that. I can't sink to the prisoners' level. It's my job as the warden to make a fair judgement. I… I have to judge each and every one of you… no matter how much they plead, cry, or bargain… even if they are dying right in front of me."

"What is even the point? You give a damn about my life, forgive me! If not, kill me… get it over with."

The words came tumbling out. Fuuta tried not to think so hard about what he was saying. It was all in character. That was it.

For some reason, he got the sinking sensation that he'd be pulled aside later to explain himself. He wasn't sure who'd get to him first. Yuno? Shidou? Kotoko? Now that he thought about it, it would probably be Mahiru.

"Bargaining tactics won't work with me."

"Not like I care. Or… if I get out of this alive, I'll… kill… you…"

"Fine by me. If we truly are the same, then I'll have had it coming. Now, Prisoner no. 3, Fuuta, sing your sins."

Fuuta breathed a sigh of relief.

Fucking finally...

[daffi-990]

Sickest, Sexiest Sentence Sunday

Tagged by the amazing @rainbow-nerdss and @thewolvesof1998. Thank you friends! 😘

Rules: Post the sentence from the last seven days that you're most proud of, then tag some other folks to share the fun.

This is from a buddie fantasy au I may or may not be writing 👀

The string that bound their souls together no longer pulled tight, instead it lay loose and frayed, cut by the hands of death. A broken scream rips out of his throat and his magic explodes.

Tagging (no pressure to play): @lover-of-mine @exhuastedpigeon @fortheloveofbuddie @forthewolves @eddiebabygirldiaz @callmenewbie @callaplums @wikiangela @loserdiaz

[elialys]

i actually don't hate my chapter anymore??

[f1-stuff]

uhm, it’s like- i’m supposed to be asleep and i’m not even properly functioning right now because i’m OVERWHELMED.

i’ve just finished reading your last work and it is so mesmerisingly good it has made me feel things. i went from a painful nausea to feeling a sense of relief so deep i genuinely thought i had stopped breathing through the entire reading session and then came back to breathing as usual, except that i was breathing even better than before because everything fell into place and- oh, i’m such a sl*t for happy endings.

i don’t know if any of the things i’ve written so far even make sense. i hope they do. i have so many questions about some of your choices (in a good way!) and i loved your writing.

i loved the way you described the emotions and the way you developed the story because it all works. it all works, it all makes sense, it all has a meaning. everything is so divinely perfect it seems real. like- if someone were to tell me “EHY, THIS IS REALLY HAPPENING SOMEWHERE OUT THERE- MAYBE IN A PARALLEL UNIVERSE” i would totally believe them.

i have so many more compliments to make but i really don’t know how to express them anymore.

perfect. just perfect. everything you wrote is beautiful and worth of the time you dedicate to it and people dedicated to reading it.

thank you for writing it. never stop writing.

you have a gift ❤️

i will be eagerly waiting for other works of yours to be published ❤️

😳😭❤️

Don't know what else to say, but I grinned the whole way through reading this. Smooching you anon!!!!!

[sunnys-sonnets]

After seeing the art that inspired you- why Hint Of Magic? how was that idea even formed, how did you come up with all the world-building and the smut? (I am always in awe)

I remember looking at the art and trying to make it make sense. And that made a story come of it. A fairy sitting on a knight's shoulder? How did that come to be? Especially with this pairing? Shouldn't they hate each other? Why don't they hate each other? No one is stopping them? Or maybe these meetings and "relationship" is a secret that they both want to keep. But why would Heimdall care about a random fairy? There has to be an incentive for him to keep seeing and meeting with this fairy until they're going to eventually get along. Alright. Give Heimdall a mission from Odin. Easy. Gather fairy dust. They fairies? They're like the Jotunar in GoW. Dangerous and mysterious. But Atreus cute and sweet so Heimdall would have to find it endearing eventually. Their relationship grows, oh no, but they are enemies and Heimdall knows it'll never work and Atreus is stuck in the forest never to leave it even if he wanted to. Boom plotline scraped from cute fanart and GoW.

Ploy's artwork for sure inspired me (and other artists too!) and I think I wanted more of it or stuff like it. And at the time, I needed some variety in what I was writing, I needed a little break from "Mischief and Foresight" so I devised a plan. If I made a fanfiction on the artwork and it was well-liked and well-received then that would mean that more fanart would be made of it, right? Wrong and egotistical. But it was super fun to write and then Lore accidentally kept coming up and it kept expanding??? Like, pretty sure it was going to only have like one or two chapters but it kept growing and I still hope people like it but I often leave it to the side since it's just a side AU

[notanodinarygirl]

A random idea.

Where a prince Ezra falls in love with a princess Sabine.

It's Ezra's POV.

I know there are many grammatical errors.

Apologies.

Writing is definitely not my speciality.

[letsgetitblog]

i was scrolling through ur blog and omg i saw that post u made about michael b jordan being raph’s human version. tell me why we have the same brain ?? its either him or trevante rhodes tbh. i think i could see lamar johnson or yahya abdul mateen as leo and ashton sanders as mikey ❤️ i struggle on don though to bffr lmk what you think !

STOP ITT ALL THE ACTORS THAT YOU MENTIONED FITS THEM SO PERFECTLY OMGGGG ( i don't know who abdul is tho- i need to watch candyman my god)

And yea Don is a the tricky one- like dang ☠️

But- but hear me out- winston duke? But its bayverse raph's human version 👀👀👀?

edit: OMG WAIT DONNIE COULD BE TYLER JAMES WILLIAMS

[darlingpassion]

Some Fae Rena and Fae Kingston Imagines for you to feel better, hopefully ^^

Rena: Imagine Fae Queen Rena coming to you during this time, for another visit- another attempt to convince you to come with her to her kingdom and stay. This time she tells you all about foods and drinks she can shower you with. Delectable sweet treats that listen to you- that do not give you weight if you do not wish it. Sparkling drinks that make you feel light and happy- but never give you a hangover. ... 😏 and Tonics, that send away your ladies troubles.

She knows she's convincing you. You see the smirk across her delicately painted lips, and feel your hibitions against her fall dangerously low.

She would take such good care of you, sweetheart~

Kingston: You were aware that the King went on his trips- joyrides into the human world, partly to escape his wife and partly out of a genuine fascination with the flightless mortal creaturs, and also a complete disenchantment with his own kingdom.

But you never expected to have him fly in through your window one evening, some odd clothing on (A red flannel, green vest, jeans and a fishing box at his side- human clothing), overexcited as he always is before a trip, and ask you to come with him.

He knew you were struggling recently, feeling bad mentally and physically as well, and thought in his opinion- there was nothin better then the human worlds relaxed, simple charms. Calmer, more understatedly beautiful- not so l o u d, or c r o w d e d.

Maybe that's just what you need, baby girl! C'mon- I promise, if you fucken hate it- I'll bring you right back.

When he infers his palm out to you, do you take it?

I am so sorry, I could have sworn I answered this! 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

But I'm kinda glad I didn't, because this was really lovely to see again after the few days I've had (a lot of stuff I don't want to get into, and also getting sick 😖). Thank you so so so much for sending these in again! ^^

As much as I'd love to bring these perfections to life with writing, A), I don't think I'll be able to write these scenarios the justice they deserve. And B) I can't think of much to begin with 😅😅😅 it might be the sick brain talking, though. I will say; I'm totally going with Kingston. Rena... I want to, but I know the rules of the fea, so... I'm fighting a great battle with my heart and logic 😅😅😅

Um... Self-indulgent stuff under the cut 😅

However, I did find this fun video, and it got me imagining Kingston and I deciding to take on the ice cream cake challenge together XD ^^ I'm just geeking out about how baking is another form of chemistry, how cool that it doesn't sound like it should work, but it does when you break down the ingredients, coming up with a dumb scientific method of testing all this ("So the control group, I think, can be the ice cream freshly out of the freezer. Another group should be melted ice cream to see if that'll make any difference. And a third group should be us adding eggs to the mix since, depending on the kind of cake we want, that is a vital ingredient that ice cream doesn't have. And-"), and Kingstons just standing there, somehow being able to listen to me being a dork and ready to taste test the cakes XD (I'd love it if I could bake with Rena and/or Ryan too ^^)

Anyways- I apologize for the cringe 😅😅😅 thank you for sending these in! I love them very much ^^

[racingliners]

Things to do while you have a mystery sore throat: make yet another fic related spreadsheet

[cupcakeslushie]

sorry to bother you with yet another Kendra brainwashing au question but what happens when the mad dogs finally do cross paths with the Purple Dragons and see what they've done to Donnie

They’ll have to retreat. Kendra almost immediately unleashes Donnie’s powers on them, in order to quickly finish the job she’s brought him on. And they’re all left with even more questions than when they didn’t even know Donnie’s whereabouts. Leo grabs Mikey, and Raph, grabs April, who are only just catching up when Donnie’s attack starts.

Also sorry to anon that I dropped this right as you asked if you could write their reunion! I just got inspired 😅😭 but I would still love to read it, even if it’s not the same as this!! 💚💚

[bitchesuntitled]

Softer

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader

Summary: Joel’s feeling a tad self-conscious

Warnings/Tags: Humor, No outbreak AU, Tommy being an asshole in a brotherly way, fluff, pregnancy, sympathetic pregnancy, blended families, strip tease, nothing bad happens to Sarah ever and Ellie's your kid, and I think that’s it?

A/N: Thank you much @strang3lov3, @whocaresstillthelouvre, @jay-zzle for your eyes and Jai also for the moodboard!!! 😍🥰😘

This is for @beefrobeefcal’s Joel Sat on Me challenge! I hope you laugh at this as much as I did writing it 😅

Masterlist||AO3

Divider by @saradika-graphics

The gender reveal/baby shower was going off without a hitch. Maria was making sure people knew where to put gifts, Tommy was helping Joel at the grill, while your mom was helping you put the Boy or Girl banner around you. You hate this kind of attention but Maria and your parents both wanted to make a show of it. Despite your arguments on tradition being only for the first baby.

“Well, it’s you and Joel’s first baby together,” Maria deadpanned, all while your mom nodded along.

“Can’t beat that logic!” Your dad grinned.

“Fine,” you relented, rolling your eyes, “Good thing it’s the last one too.” 

Joel smirked, his palm caressing your thigh, “It’ll be fine,” he whispered in your ear, “Least there will be cake,” he added with a shrug. You couldn’t help but laugh.

“Can’t beat that logic!” You reply mockingly, sticking your tongue out.

—

“Mom!” Ellie shouts, “Sarah’s trying to sneak into the cake!”

“Quit being such a narc!” Sarah laughs, playfully smacking Ellie’s arm, “You want to know just as much as I do!”

“Girls!” Joel hollers. “Come help your uncle Tommy set up!”

Both girls walk to the grill, helping Tommy carry hamburgers and hotdogs to the table.

“Alright everyone!” Maria announces, raising her voice to get everyone’s attention. “Let’s eat! Parents-to-be first!”

“Hey momma,” Joel grins, meeting you at the food table and placing a soft kiss on your temple, “What ya in the mood for?”

“More like what is the baby in the mood for?” you grumble, trying to adjust the sash around your body. “I hate this fucking thing,” you hiss.

“Just gotta eat, cut the cake and get through presents then I’ll kick everyone out,” Joel reassures.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” you mumble, grabbing a plate and staring at the food. The baby decided it wanted corn on the cob, a burger with all the extras, potato salad, and a small salad with more ranch on it than lettuce.

“Jesus Joel,” Tommy laughed when you both got to one of the tables. “Your woman’s the one eatin’ for two not you!”

Everyone looked at Joel with his plate piled high with two burgers, two hotdogs, and plenty of sides to feed a small army. You saw the flush creeping up his neck as he sat next to you. Joel opened his mouth to say something but Maria interrupted.

“Oh hush,” Maria said, smacking Tommy softly on the shoulder.

“Probably going through that sympathetic pregnancy thing,” a guest piped in. “My husband did that too!”

“Sympathetic pregnancy?” Ellie asked with her mouth full of potato salad. Your mom begins to laugh, shaking her head at Ellie.

“Ellie, gross,” you hiss. “Finish eating before you speak.”

Ellie makes a show of swallowing her food before speaking again. “What the hell is sympathetic pregnancy?”

“Ellie,” you groan. “Language! I haven’t spent the past 13 years raising a hellion!”

“And just think, you’re starting over!” your dad laughs.

Joel, meanwhile, keeps pushing the food around on his plate, taking smaller bites of the sides.

“Okay, googled it!” Sarah announces to the table, wagging her phone and clearing her throat. “Google says, c- cou- nevermind, I’m not even gonna try. Sympathetic pregnancy is a proposed condition in which an expectant father experiences some of the same symptoms and behavior as his pregnant partner. These most often include major weight gain, altered hormone levels, morning nausea, and disturbed sleep patterns.”

“That why you were asking for Pepto the other day at the site?” Tommy asks, nudging Joel’s shoulder before sitting down. “Dealing with some morning sickness as well?”

“Damn it Tommy,” Joel growls, balling up his fist. “If you don’t cut it out-“

“Alright, alright,” Maria hisses. “Enough.” She adds pointing at Tommy.

—

Joel stood in front of the mirror, looking at himself. Marriage had been good to him. His mental health and financial stability had improved, and he seemed overall a happier person. The only drawback seemed to be the effect it had on his waistline the moment he got you pregnant. He hadn’t thought about it before but Tommy got in his head. Especially when he announced to everyone at the party it made sense now why Joel had to move his tool belt to the next hole for it to fit.

“Whatcha lookin’ at hot stuff?” You smirk, standing in the doorway of the adjoining bathroom with your toothbrush in hand.

“Thinkin’ I need to go on a diet,” Joel huffs out, turning towards you with his hands on his hips.

“The fuck would you do that for?!”

“Tommy’s ri—“

“I swear if the next words out of your mouth are Tommy’s right.” You pout, trying your best to not let the toothpaste escape your mouth as you move back into the bathroom, spitting into the sink, “I’m gonna kill ‘em.”

Going back to the bedroom, you sit on the edge of the bed, watching Joel find his pajamas for the night. Sure, he’s gotten thicker in the middle since you got pregnant. His pants fit a bit tighter around his thighs. His chest, oh god his chest, the way your hands grip onto the meaty pecs he has now. You make a small noise at the memory of this morning before the girls woke up, and how you rode him as best you could with your swollen belly in the way, slick pooling in your underwear.

“What?” Joel asks, turning to look at you, noticing that feral glint in your eyes. He’s seen it more and more as the months have gone by. Sarah’s mom was nothing compared to you at this stage in pregnancy. Revved up and ready to go 24/7 these days.

“Tommy’s got it totally wrong,” you grin, “I love the way you look these days Joel.”

“Yeah?” Joel smiles shyly, rubbing the back of his neck, turning to face you, “what.. uh.. what about it?”

“Dad bod through and through,” you hum, adjusting on the bed to sit a little further back. “Was thinking about this morning, how I can hold onto your chest a little better with your pecs being a little softer.”

“Yeah?” Joel grins, watching your eyes track his fingers as they open the first couple buttons of his flannel, his chest barely peeking out through the fabric, “Should I put on a show?”

“I wanna see my man!” you let out a breath nodding your head eagerly.

“Feel like we need some music or something,” Joel says, letting out a shy laugh, trailing his palms down the front of his shirt, popping open more of the buttons. You begin humming 70’s porno music, “No thank you, that’s enough.”

You shrug letting out a giggle as he continues unbuttoning his shirt, his strong chest and thick belly being revealed as he rips the flannel shirt back in a dramatic fashion, spreading his legs wide and tilting his head to sway his curls behind him.

“Jesus Christ, Napoleon Dynamite. Ya gonna take it off or what?”

“‘Scuse me?” Joel asks, straightening up, pinning you with a look, pulling his flannel back over his shoulders, “Listen, I’ve never done this for anybody. I’d ‘preciate if ya didn’t make rude comments.”

You clear your throat and lean your arms back against the bedding to prop yourself up, “Sorry, horny goblins took over, proceed.”

With his flannel shirt open, he starts flipping his belt open, stalking towards you, nodding your head at this new development, sliding his belt out quickly from his belt loops causing a gasp to escape your lips.

“Mmmm,” you moan softly, thighs squeezing together, and squirming on the bed “Joel. You look so fucking good like this.”

Joel spins around to show you his backside before slipping one shoulder of the flannel off, turning his head to the side with a smirk as he slowly slides it off his arm, followed by the other. You hear the button and zipper of his jeans sliding down. He begins teasing you with his jeans, dropping them some before pulling them back up and swiveling his hips, he puts one foot on the opposite leg to try and help pull the leg out.

“Fuck!” He yelps, as he falls back sitting on you, “Shit that wasn’t supposed to happen!”

“Ow!” You groan, smacking his ass to get him to move. He rolls off you to lay beside you on the bed.

“You good?” Joel asks, laying on his side next to you, placing his palm on your belly.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you grin, placing your hand on top of his with a sigh. “No Magic Mike in here, but for your first attempt that was good Miller,” you add with a smirk.

“Fuck you,” Joel grins, leaning up to kiss you.

“Fuck. Please!” You groan, grabbing his shoulders and pulling him in for a deeper kiss.