#like I end up writing sentences that I feel is the same style always

[jazeswhbhaven]

Hello! I love your works, so I wanted to try sending in a request myself! Since I lost all of my progress on the game, I enjoy reading through your blog and seeing you go through the events. It helps me keep up with what's happening! Thank you so much!

If this hasn't been done yet, I wanted to request an MC who after a while of being with the kings and all their wild kinks, their body has basically gone through the wringer. So for the first time in like, forever, they just want to have vanilla sex. Like they enjoy all the rough stuff and all, but they need a break, just hold them and kiss them.

They don't know how to explain what they want though, especially to kings like Satan, Leviathan, Beelzebub, and Asmodeus, but they don't think their body can handle any more rough nights in bed, at least until they get some time to heal and get the feeling back in their lower half.

I'm feeling very fluffy today! But the horny has not faded away! It is a curse I tell ya, A CURSE!

Thank you for all that you do! :)

Thank you so much for waiting and sending this in, anon! I hope you're still enjoying everything my blog has to offer and there's only more where that came for instore for next year (rip to your progress i know how that feels to have that happen 😭)

Let's get to your request now, since it will be really nice to write about. Because phew, our devils be putting MC through the ringer each time they get some intimacy~

Satan: This is the one king of Hell where rough sex is...well his thing. He bruises easily, he likes to spank MC, biting, choking, being feral? That's how he's always done it. And he loved seeing the marks left behind on both him and MC. However, tonight he could sense something was off about his lover...and he had to force it out of them to explain what the trouble was. MC was wanting something more tender with tonight's intimacy. Perhaps, rough wasn't the way to go, maybe something more relaxing like cuddling and kissing while touching each other, or body worshipping? Even if it was just a simple cockwarming session, MC just wanted something tame and low energy. Satan does agree that a change in pace is nice...and he's more than capable of providing that. Because what kind of lover would he be if he didn't consider it? He opts for caressing and holding MC all night while softly grinding against them. This newfound soft intimacy works just as well as the rough fucking, and Satan enjoys it quite a lot.

Mammon: He understands right away from the last report he got from the Ai health bots that fly around his palace about MC's latest condition since their last romp fest. They needed time to rest and heal from having their insides rearranged and he knew just the thing to help with that. A relaxing spa day, a gentle massage, all from him. At the end of the day, MC is cuddling in his large arms, receiving kisses and gentle grabs on their backside. They settle for mutual masturbation while making eye contact, and they continue to rest and cuddle for the remainder of the night. Mammon doesn't always have to go all out when he has his intimate moments with MC, and this was a great example of how much control and maturity he had about it. Plus, MC always suspected Mammon to be that of the romantic type.

Beelzebub: Trying to explain the words "vanilla" and "sex" in the same sentence to Beel was like telling him to stop breathing. It just simply didn't register at first when MC brought it up, and it honestly took Bael bringing up the fact that there were still bruises from last time and they need to be treated more gentle. Beel then starts to get it, though vanilla isn't his style when it comes to sex, he's willing to try it out and help MC take a break from their normal routine (as if they had one to begin with) Surprisingly, this king is very good at toning down his kinks, boiling it down to soft kisses, and giving MC a good head session. He always likes making a meal out of them anyway, but he only stops there. No penetration for tonight. He's just going to have to be reminded constantly that they're still taking a break from rough sex until further notice.

Leviathan: He's instantly bored of the idea of "vanilla" sex. He can barely get off on the rough sex they have now. It's a true struggle with having Levi figure out what exactly is soft and toned down for his liking. For now, MC compromises with dry humping, and soft kisses all while hearing Levi complain and grumble about it. But even if he doesn't come from it, he still likes spending intimate time with MC, and will even try harder to see if he can continue having these moments with them. That at least still gives MC a break, and still gives them time to spend with Leviathan in the bedroom.

Lucifer: The king of care and knowing what MC needs for healing? You didn't have to ask him twice about that. Salves, ice packs, and healing remedies provided from Buer combined from soft words of affirmation and physical touch from Luci is just enough to get things started. Plus, it seems our fallen seraphim is really good with his hands, getting MC off with his soft touch alone. The cries of pleasure though quiet and not as loud and expressive as when they go at it for hours roughly, works for Lucifer and he appreciates it all the same. He's even fine with MC being in his embrace and them kissing here and there as they rest and listen to something in the background.

Belphegor: Vanilla sex? At first he was teasing and making fun of MC for even suggesting something like that until he realized it meant a lot less work for him to do in order to get off during sex. When he found out he didn't even have to penetrate or take off his clothes? He was sold. It turns out Belphie's really big on making out while dry humping. Even though uh with the way he's dressed most of the time, you couldn't really call it completely dry. But at least he's fine with doing this, in fact he may want to only have vanilla sex from this day onward. The less work to please you and him? The better. Plus the long sleeping sessions together was his favorite part.

Asmodeus: MC figured he'd be the most difficult to explain this too. By now they had tried almost every position Asmo could think of, almost every kink and hours of banging each other combined. But when MC brings up wanting something more vanilla, this is no issue for the usual unhinged King. He's setting up candles, aromatherapy, massaging MC's shoulders and being really gentle with them. Who knew that he could take something like thighfucking and make it absolutely romantic and intimate? He even shortens the amount of time that he's making love to MC, giving them even more of a recovery time. This is a new side to Asmo that MC likes and while they know it's temporary, at least they are enjoying it as much as possible.

[shidouryusm]

Welcome to sami having her writer imposter syndrome 338242 times a day and questioning years of writing that she did ever since she was 14 🤡

[malusokay]

Little things that improved my life 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Accepting my sleep schedule. I'm a night owl; I focus at night, I'm calm at night, I'm motivated at night. For a long time, I tried to fight this since everyone always preaches getting up early, but since I started accepting my natural sleep schedule, I've been feeling a lot better and have become way more productive.

"drink more water". TEA. Tea is the secret here. I will be honest, I hate drinking water; it doesn't matter if I have a cute water bottle or a cute glass, I still hate it. TEA.

Replying quickly. I used to be one of those people who get a text message and think, "Oh, I'll reply to that later", and then just forget about it entirely. Now, I text back as soon as I see the message. This has not only improved my texting anxiety (which I cause on my own by now replying and then feeling bad) but also deepened my connection to my friends. <3

Keeping my circle small and being okay with that. Over the past months, I've had this sudden urge to expand my social circle and get to know more and more people, especially after I moved in August. However, this quickly ended in what I like to call my "social burnout". I was tired, annoyed, and overwhelmed. It took a few weeks for it to settle, but I've come to the conclusion that I would much rather have a smaller circle of people who I trust and love deeply than a huge group of friends, and that's totally okay.

Wearing what I like. Even though I live in a big city, I'd still say that my style can sometimes be a bit more extravagant than what most people wear, another point is that I'm very uncomfortable with pants so I only wear skirts, which is also considered a bit odd where I live. But over the past years, I've come to accept that and have become so sure of myself and found such comfort in my style that I now just wear whatever I like, and it makes every day a little bit nicer.

Reading and writing for pleasure. Reading books outside of my studies and spending time researching topics that simply interest me is such a great way to calm your mind. Same for writing, I always like to say that to write is to think; putting your thoughts on paper in cohesive and well-crafted sentences that you can then reread and think over again is such a liberating thing to do.

Reaching out more. fuck the whole "double texting" and "no contact" thing. If you want to speak to someone because they mean something to you, then just do it. Unless they specifically asked for space, you shouldn't feel bad about wanting to be in touch with them. Many even really appreciate it when you show that you truly care. Let's stop the nonchalant act, and instead, let's face deep emotions and true vulnerability. <3

As always, please feel free to share your own little insights and things that helped you improve comments! <3

my insta: @ malusokay

love ya ･:*₊‧✩

[arodrwho]

the best way to write is however ur little heart desires obviously but personally subjectively pettily i think that most of the time people would be better off just writing how they talk

[genderlessdude92]

FORGIVENESS

PAIRING: Alastor x Wife!Reader SUMMARY: Alastor's work at the Hazbin Hotel keeps him preoccupied, leading to neglect in his relationship with Y/N. An argument later on arises, causing both to confront their feelings. Ultimately, they reconcile, promising to communicate better in the future. The story emphasizes the importance of understanding and communication in relationships. WARNINGS: Reader is a sensitive little baby (っ◞‸◟c) (sorry not sorry), Story gets angsty but there is a happy ending with fluff yay, Neglect, established relationship (as seen above), takes place in present-day hell, reader and Alastor live in a manor-type house idk i would imagine him rich or smth, don’t imagine the manor like a richie rich mansion manor just…yk. emotional turmoil, verbal conflict, depiction of emotional distress, Relationship strain, mild violence (not physical), Reference to a soul bond (which is in most of my fics bc i feel like if Alastor really married anybody they would own each other’s souls idk what i’m doing shut up). Angel says an Angel-type sentence in the bonus writing. LMK if I missed anything <\3. This fix is rushed because i got a lot of good comments on my last one and i felt confident but i don’t anymore so L.

NOTICE: please don't copy or steal or translate any of my work or you will be haunted in your dreams and i will spawn something unpleasant at your porch the next day. But...thanks for liking my work !! >.< Property of @l4zyb0n35 and @genderlessdude92

Requests are open, support is highly appreciated!

WORDS: 1.3k (with a side fic not counted)

〰ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭ ..。.:*･ﾟ♫₊ ♪ *♬‧₊enjoy!~

It was a typical morning in the manor of Alastor, the radio demon. The sun had barely broken over the horizon, hell’s birds were chirping, and the smell of coffee wafted through the halls. Alastor, as always, was in the kitchen sipping on his cup of coffee and writing down some ideas for the Hazbin Hotel. Y/N, his wife, was sitting across from him, her hair perfectly styled, just freshly taken out of curlers. But she was still in her damp robe from showering in the morning.

Alastor glanced up at her, a small smile on his face. He couldn't help but feel a sense of pride wash over him every time he looked at her. She was his wife, his partner, and his everything. They had been married for what felt like eternity, even though they had only been married since 1936. They had met in their previous life, both living in the same city, but they didn't truly fall in love until they met again in hell.

Y/N let out a small sigh from across the table, causing Alastor to look up from his notes once again.

But today, something was off between them. Well, more-so recently. He could tell that something was bothering her, her usually bright eyes filled with sadness. Without a word, he reached over and grasped her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. She looked at him, offering a small smile in return. But Alastor could see right through it, he knew something was weighing heavy on her mind.

“Everything alright darling?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.

Y/N pondered for a moment, “…It’s nothin’, don’t needa worry, okay?” She reassured, her voice faltering a bit at the end.

Alastor sat back in his seat, his expression turning serious. “…You know i won’t let this slide, dear.” he reassured her.

Y/N nodded, the feeling of unease in the pit of both their stomachs. Alastor seemed sincere, but something in his gut told him that this was more to be a serious matter.

With a wider, more forced smile, Y/N stood up from the table, “I'm going to go get ready for the day…” she said before quickly leaving the kitchen.

Alastor watched her go, a frown appearing on his face. He hated seeing Y/N like this, but he didn't want to harp her and overwhelm her.

As the week went on, Alastor couldn't shake the feeling that he was neglecting his wife.

Charlie had been giving him countless tasks at the hotel, since Lucifer told her it was good to overwork the big guys just a little bit.

psh.

Probably because Lucifer isn’t even big.

Even when he got to work from home, they were still just ghosts to each other.

Even the dinner was cold.

“Sweetheart…” Alastor called from his seat.

She looked over to him after a moment, waiting if he would say anything else, “What’s wrong, Al?”

She silently asked.

“…The dinner tastes… different?…tonight?” Alastor tried to say with a sincere aspect. Maybe Alastor could help her with the cooking?

“…oh um…I’m sorry…”

Fuck.

“No, no- it’s fine! um…be a deer and… just microwave it, okay?” Alastor reassured with a cheery smile.

Y/N paused from working at the stove to look at him and then his plate before walking over to him and doing as he said-

quietly.

“…So…acid rain today, huh?” Alastor began to start some conversation, “-must have been a bummer.”

“…the last petunias died in the yard.” Y/N replied.

Later that evening, Alastor and Y/N were in their bedroom getting ready for bed. Y/N was brushing out her hair while Alastor was sitting at his vanity, humming a tune to himself. But his cheerful demeanor quickly changed when he looked up at Y/N's reflection in the mirror.

Her bottom was lip trembling, and she had to stop in between her brushes to take a deep breath. Alastor could feel a pang of guilt in his chest, knowing that he was most likely the cause of her sadness. He quickly stood up and walked over to her, “Darling, what's wrong?” he asked, gently placing a hand on her shoulder.

Y/N turned around to face him and that's when it happened. “Just leave me alone, Alastor. You obviously haven’t been wanting to…i- interact with me recently.” She stated, “I’m doing you a favor.”

Alastor's frustration and guilt boiled over. “What do you want from me, Y/N? I have a lot on my plate right now and your attitude is really bothering me.” He replied, his tone harsh and genuine, alongside his smile that was tight and annoyed.

“You should really act your age for once, Y/N.”

She froze.

‘Act her age?’

“…I’m sorry I can’t be perfect all the time, Alastor.” She snapped back.

Alastor was to reply but she cut him off- “I’m sorry I have flaws.” She let her tears spill. Ones she didn’t even know she was barricading

“No, no- Y/N, I didn’t mean it like that-” Alastor started, but Y/N quickly was already opening the door to their bedroom, leaving Alastor alone with his thoughts.

He sat down at her vanity, wanting to inspect what she could’ve made her react like that. An object? maybe a broken object? A letter?

But nothing could have stopped him from staring at his reflection with shame and regret.

He had never gave Y/N harmful comments like that before, and he knew, always knew that words like that could deeply hurt Y/N. He had let his emotions get the best of him,

-and now he feared he may have damaged their relationship.

But he refused to let it end like this.

He quickly got up and went to find her, searching through their shared household. When he reached the living room, he could see her curled up on the couch, her face buried in one of the throw-pillows as she sobbed softly.

Alastor's heart broke at the sight, he had never seen Y/N like this before. He sat down next to her and slowly and softly began to rub his claw on her back through the silk nightgown she was wearing.

'I'm sorry, Y/N.”, He started. He stopped rubbing her for a moment to hear or see a reaction.

Nothing.

He continued, “I didn't mean it, I was just upset- things like this don’t happen, often, you understand…my emotions just got to me.” he whispered, his voice full of regret.

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes still spilling tears, “I know you didn't mean it, Alastor. But it still hurt me…I can’t just be p-perfect all the time,”' she mumbled with a hiccup, slowly sitting up. “I’m afraid there’s a reason that you haven’t been around me an-“

Alastor hushed her, “I understand, darlings…work got the best of me i suppose…”

Alastor pulled her into his warm embrace, holding her tightly as he buried his face in her hair. “-I promise I’ll never, ever, do that again. I understand that sometimes we all can act differently depending on the atmosphere, and I just didn’t bring that to mind at first,” Alastor noted, his demeanor wavering in his voice, “I’ll never forget this conversation, Y/N…”

“I can't lose you.”

Y/N pulled back and cupped his face in her hands, her eyes locking with his. “I could never l-leave you, Al.” she whispered before pressing her lips to his in a gentle kiss.

From that day on, Alastor made an effort to be more open with Y/N, to share his troubles and concerns with her instead of bottling them up. And in return, Y/N opened up more to him, sharing her fears and worries.

Nothing could tear them apart.

Mostly because they most likely have bonded souls but you know what i mean.

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　

BONUS !! (ㆁᴗㆁ✿)

✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

(450-500 words)

After the heartfelt conversation and reconnection with Alastor, Y/N decided to surprise him one day at the Hazbin Hotel with lunch. She spent the morning preparing Alastor's favorite dishes, humming to herself as she worked in the kitchen.

Once the food was ready, Y/N packed it neatly into a picnic basket and headed to the hotel.

As she entered the lobby, she was greeted by Charlie, who smiled warmly at her. "Hey, Y/N! What brings you here today?" Charlie asked, curiosity twinkling in her eyes.

Charlie and Y/N had known each other since after that big battle with the angels. Like the good housewife Y/N usually was, she offered to help heal and mend to the hotel staff’s wounds. From then on, the staff just knew her as, ‘a second mom’ of sorts.

Y/N grinned, holding up the picnic basket. "I brought lunch for Alastor. Thought I'd surprise him," she replied. Charlie's eyes lit up with excitement. "That's so sweet of you! I'm sure he'll love it. Let me take you to his office," she offered, leading the way down the bustling hallway.

When they reached Alastor's office, Charlie knocked on the door before opening it, revealing Alastor seated behind his desk, engrossed in paperwork.

"Alastor, you have a visitor!" Charlie announced with a sing-song like voice. Alastor looked up, a surprised expression crossing his face when he saw Y/N standing in the doorway, holding the picnic basket. His eyes lit up with delight, and he quickly set aside his paperwork, standing up to greet her.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" he exclaimed, stepping forward to give Y/N a hug. "A surprise lunch visit from my lovely wife. You've outdone yourself, darling." Y/N chuckled, returning his embrace. "I thought you could use a break from all that paperwork. Plus, um… I wanted to spend some time with you, if that’s okay." she replied, placing the picnic basket on his desk.

Alastor's smile widened, “Of course, dear. Anytime i’m around you is like a gift sent from the overlords.”

As he opened the basket, he was revealed to see the delicious spread Y/N had prepared. "You truly are too good to me, Y/N," he said, pulling out a sandwich and taking a bite. As they enjoyed their lunch together.

Y/N noticed Charlie just awkwardly standing there, spacing out. “Charlie, dear, do you want some?”

Charlie snapped out of her trance, “Oh- no, uh, that’s okay! I’ll leave you two to it.” He gave them a thumbs up before leaving to the hallways of the hotel.

As she walked out of his office, she was surprised to see Angel and Husk standing next to each other, watching the whole things.

“So…since husk ain’t bettin’ it…” Angel began, a mishcevious mood setting in,

“…you wanna bet how loud they’ll get?”

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END NOTES:

NOTE: Second fic woohoo!!! This fic, although, was a bit rushed and i was feeling really confident in the beginning because i got SO MUCH great comments and support (tysm (,,•́ω ก̀,,) in the that fic…but then i lost a tiny amount of motivation…overtime. But i couldn’t just stop writing…my OCD wouldn’t like that (♥︎ω♥︎ ) ~♪ Also when Y/N was humming in the bonus story in the kitchen…100% was humming to a song that played on the broadcast the night before i just didn’t wanna add it in…REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!! >:3

-Lynn

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Masterlist link

[velvees-archive]

art cr: @cokiicookies on twitter

Tags: Love Confessions, Bratfeen, Art Student Feenie, Law Student Bratworth, Ace Attorney-typical cringefail, Canon Divergence

and many others!

HEAVILY inspired by @cokiicookies's bratfeen art on twitter! check out the full comic there!!!

"Hey...so...uh..." Phoenix coughs out, voice scratchy from his most recent line repetitions. It's a small mistake, not unsalvageable. All he has to do is stick to the script. Stick to the script. Stick... His eyes flick down to his note cards. He swears he’d printed them in his best penmanship, atop one of the library's extra premium desks, but everything is spinning and he feels faintly like he's going to throw up. "Did you uh," he starts, letters swirling in his eyes. "Did...you fall out of heaven...?" Genius prosecutor-in-training Miles Edgeworth regards him with a blank stare. Phoenix thinks now would be an opportune time for him to locate the nearest possible bridge and promptly jump off of it. - The joys and woes (mostly woes) of being in love, as told by BratFeen.

so i caved and wrote narumitsu. another huge thank you to @cokiicookies on twitter for allowing me to write an accompanying fic for their work. i attached some of the comic here in an attempt to entice you to look at their comic (well? are you enticed?!), but if you wanna see the full thing, please do give their art a like, a retweet, a comment, and all the love on twitter! fic screenshots below:

misc commentary/musings under the cut :)

the way i wrote feenie inner monologue and narration parallels my informal writing style, so writing his freak outs weren't challenging. consciously changing sentence structures/verbiage to be more or less extra, on the other hand, totally was.

the bulk of my pain came from writing fluff in the first place, stumbling through dialogue exchanges (as always), and attempting larry dialogue...all of which i honestly think i failed at pretty badly HAHA. who cares tho? it's my work!

bratfeen is one of my favorite narumitsu "eras" if you will. i've always wanted to write them. i didn't know the opportunity would come so soon (and at my expense considering i still have a zine fic to finalize for a diff fandom), but i took the shot. the full fic was written over the course of a day which i do not recommend anyone experience. i was on a writing hiatus for months and wrote 8k words as soon as i came back. do you see why i burnt out in the first place?

the easiest part about writing bratfeen is that none of the things i write are exaggerated for the purpose of carrying the plot forward. feenie believing that bratworth is better of a human being than everyone makes him out to be? sounds about right. feenie insisting to others that miles is the best thing since grilled cheese? his raging savior complex says that's likely to occur. feenie fumbling the bag because he thinks miles is the prettiest thing he's ever seen? yeah, 20 y/o feenie would! feenie shoving the asshole who talked shit abt miles? we saw the exact same thing with doug swallow (and we all know how that ended...). all of it is in line w his character. also miles being a try hard. that's a given.

i am hoping i can showcase more of my technical skill aka the angst writer in me with my next work, though i've been closely following fictober (haven't been publishing because, again, zine fic obligations) and have plenty of angsty fics stored in my drafts. i hope you enjoy my poor attempt at humor and fluff. may i muster the strength to finish the rest of my zine fic...please...

[writetheidea]

Behind Closed Doors

Hello, I am sorry for disappearing. As I mentioned to a few kind people who reached out, I’ve been focused on completing my degree and working on my thesis. This is a bit shorter than what I usually write, but it came to me in between working on my thesis. I hope you can enjoy it regardless. Also, I thought I’d try taking requests for writing. There are no guarantees, but if you’d like to request a story, my asks are open.

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x female character

Plot: after six months of keeping their relationship a secret, Carlos' girlfriend finally confronts him about it.

Tag: hurt/no comfort, angst.

Word count: 1372

Disclaimers: english is not my first language - I feel like you could tell from my writing style — so I apologize if some of the sentences structures are off, or if I use outdated or inappropriate-for-the-context words, I used a synonym dictionary to try and stop myself from repeating the same words, I still did do that though.

The sun hung low over the Ferrari motorhome, casting a warm, golden glow that made the chaos of the day seem almost serene. She leaned against a railing just outside the hospitality area, clipboard in hand, pretending to focus on the notes she’d scrawled there earlier. The usual buzz of voices and machinery filled the air, but her mind was far from the work at hand.  

Across the paddock, Carlos Sainz walked toward the motorhome, his helmet tucked under one arm, his dark hair messy from hours in the car. He laughed at something one of the engineers said, his easy charm lighting up the space around him. She watched him, her chest tightening. Six months ago, seeing him like this had filled her with excitement, the kind that made her feel alive. Now, it only brought confusion and doubt.  

It hadn’t always been like this.  

They’d met at a company dinner just weeks after she’d started as a marketing intern for Ferrari. Nervous and wide-eyed, she’d been acutely aware of how out of place she felt in a room full of confident, successful people. Carlos had been seated across from her, and his easy smile had melted her nerves in minutes. He’d asked questions, listened intently, and made her laugh so much that by the end of the night, she felt more at ease than she had in weeks.  

After that, their interactions became more frequent—shared smiles in the hallway, casual conversations during coffee breaks, and eventually, a night where he cornered her after a meeting.  

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he’d said, his voice low and sincere. “Can we go to dinner? Somewhere... away from here.”  

It had felt like the beginning of something extraordinary. And for a while, it was. Late-night calls where they shared their dreams and fears, secret dates where they laughed until their cheeks hurt, and stolen moments that felt like they were the only two people in the world. But it was always in secret.  

At first, she’d understood. Carlos was a public figure, and their relationship was new. But six months later, it was clear that secrecy wasn’t just a precaution—it was a boundary he had no intention of crossing.  

-----

The argument started in her apartment, a modest but cozy space that she’d come to think of as her sanctuary. Carlos had let himself in with the spare key she’d given him months ago, greeting her with a kiss that made her heart flutter despite her frustrations. He asked her about her day, but she barely heard him. The weight on her chest was too heavy to ignore.  

“Carlos,” she said, interrupting his story about a meeting with the engineers.  

He paused mid-sentence, sensing her seriousness. “What’s wrong?”  

She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “I need to talk to you about us.”  

His brows knitted, concern flashing across his face. “What about us?”  

She exhaled deeply, setting her clipboard on the coffee table. “I can’t keep doing this. The sneaking around, the hiding. It’s exhausting, Carlos.”  

His expression shifted to something guarded, his hand running through his hair. “We’ve talked about this,” he said slowly. “You know why we have to be careful.”  

“Careful?” she repeated, her voice rising. “It’s been six months, Carlos. Six months, and no one knows. Not Ferrari, not your family, not even your closest friends. Do you know how that makes me feel?”  

“I’m trying to protect you,” he said firmly.  

“From what?” she shot back, standing now. “From Ferrari? I could find another job if that’s what it takes. But this isn’t about Ferrari, is it? It’s about you.”  

He flinched, but his jaw tightened. “You don’t understand the scrutiny. The media, the fans—they’d tear you apart. And if Ferrari disapproved—”  

“What? They’d fire me? Fine. But let’s not pretend this is about me, Carlos. You’re ashamed of me, aren’t you?”  

His eyes widened in shock, but he didn’t deny it. The silence between them was deafening.  

Her voice cracked as she continued, “You won’t even tell your family. Why? Are you afraid they’ll think I’m not good enough because I’m not from your world?”  

He hesitated, searching for words, but they didn’t come fast enough.  

Her heart broke as realization dawned. “That’s it, isn’t it?” she whispered. “You think I’m not enough.”  

“No,” he said quickly, stepping toward her. “That’s not it. I care about you—”  

“Then prove it!” she snapped, tears welling in her eyes. “Because right now, it feels like you’re embarrassed of me. Like you’d rather lose me than risk anyone knowing we’re together.”  

“I’m trying to protect you!” he said again, louder this time. “You don’t know what it’s like to live under this kind of scrutiny. People like you—”  

He stopped, but the words were already out there.  

Her breath caught. “People like me?” she repeated, her voice trembling.  

“No, I didn’t mean it like that—”  

“Then what did you mean?” she demanded, her voice rising.  

He faltered, running a hand down his face. “You don’t understand the pressure I’m under.”  

“You’re right,” she said, her tone cold now. “I don’t. But I do understand this: I deserve someone who isn’t afraid to love me openly. And clearly, that isn’t you. You should go, Carlos.”

He hesitated for a moment, as if he wanted to argue, but the look on her face left no room for debate. Without another word, he turned and walked out, the door closing behind him with a finality that echoed in her chest. 

-----

The next three weeks were a blur of work and heartbreak. She avoided every Ferrari event she could, claiming to be overwhelmed with deadlines. But the truth was, she couldn’t face Carlos or the memories of what they’d had.  

Then, one morning, her phone buzzed with a notification. She opened Instagram and froze. There he was, arm wrapped around a gorgeous model at a gala, both of them dressed to perfection. The caption read: “New beginnings.”  

Her chest tightened, tears stinging her eyes. He hadn’t just moved on; he’d moved on publicly, with someone who fit seamlessly into his world. Someone he wasn’t afraid to be seen with.  

Before she could stop herself, she typed a message and hit send.  

“I never would have been enough, would I?”  

She stared at the screen, her hands trembling. Part of her hoped he wouldn’t respond. Another part of her hoped he would, with something—anything—that might ease the ache in her chest. But no reply came.  

That night, she made a decision. Ferrari wasn’t just her job anymore; it was a constant reminder of him. She drafted her resignation letter, citing “personal reasons,” and sent it to HR. By the end of the week, she had accepted a job offer from Red Bull.  

It was a clean break.  

-----

Months later, she thrived at Red Bull, her confidence and passion for her work reignited. She had new projects, new colleagues, and a new sense of self-worth. For the first time in months, she felt like she was moving forward.  

But healing wasn’t linear. Every so often, she’d see his face on a screen or hear his name in a briefing, and the ache would return.  

Then, during a race weekend, their paths crossed again. She was walking through the paddock when she spotted him. He was with the same model, his arm casually draped around her shoulders. Their eyes met briefly, and for a moment, she thought she saw regret in his expression. But she turned away, holding her head high.  

She didn’t need him anymore.  

Later that evening, her phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number.  

“I’m sorry. For everything.”  

She stared at the message, her emotions swirling. She could reply. She could open that door again. But then she thought of the months she’d spent rebuilding herself, of the strength she’d found in letting go.  

With a steady hand, she deleted the message.  

As she walked through the paddock the next day, the sun shining brightly overhead, she felt lighter. She wasn’t defined by Carlos, or by the heartbreak he’d caused. She was her own person, and her future was hers to shape.

For the first time in a long time, she smiled.

[thewatcher727]

Writing Tip - Unnecessary Descriptions

More writing tips

We all know the importance of making a story immersive with detailed and vivid descriptions. They truly bring the story to life and get you hooked right away. That being said, there is such a thing as unnecessary descriptions. What do I mean by this? It means a description that doesn’t need to be there. I’ve been guilty of this in the past, which is why I’m always adapting my writing style (something I’ll discuss in a future tip). That being said, what’s an example of a pointless description? I’ll show some from stories I’ve read, but I won’t include author or story names because these tips aren’t about badmouthing people; they’re about helping others improve.

Example 1:

“Without her tailcoat on, the only articles of clothing that covered her torso were her bra (which couldn't be seen) and a white undershirt.”

They didn’t need to mention the bra. Simply stating that she wore a white undershirt would have been enough.

Example 2:

“The sun was shining brightly in the clear blue sky, with no clouds in sight, making the day sunny and bright.”

They basically said the same thing twice, repeating it unnecessarily. They could have ended the sentence after saying there were no clouds in sight.

Example 3:

“Jessica picked up her phone, which she had bought two years ago from a shop in a small town she visited during a road trip. The shop had a quaint little sign painted in faded yellow, and the owner had a peculiar habit of wearing mismatched socks.”

This is nicely described, but what does it have to do with the actual story? Jessica picking up the phone was just a simple action. Unless the phone and where she got it from become crucial to the story, there’s no need to say where she got it from.

Example 4:

“Carlos wore a shirt with 14 buttons, each perfectly round and made of plastic, with four tiny holes for the thread to go through.”

Again, nicely described, but did we need to know the specific number of buttons on his shirt? Just saying he wore a neatly buttoned shirt would have been enough.

...

With those examples in mind, how do we avoid unnecessary descriptions? Here are some things to keep in mind:

Focus On Relevance: When it comes to excessive detail, focus on what’s actually relevant. For example, if you write about a character drinking from a cup of coffee, don’t feel the need to describe what the cup looks like. Focus on the sensory detail of the coffee with a simple sentence rather than unnecessary specifics about the cup's appearance.

Avoid Irrelevant Backstory: As in example 3, don’t bother with irrelevant backstory. Focus on the action relevant to that moment rather than including unrelated details that don’t impact the current scene.

Avoid Repetition: Like example 2, don’t feel the need to say the same thing twice. Provide a clear image without repetition.

Avoid Overly Specific Details: As in example 4, don’t go into too much depth about how many buttons are on Carlos’ shirt. Keep it simple and focus on what’s important, like Carlos’ neat appearance.

All in all, unnecessary descriptions can slow down the pace of the story and take readers out of it. Focus on the details that enhance the story.

[cvnt4him]

You've summoned a succubus!!

Human!izuku x succubus!reader

Warnings; reader is black and in most of my fics she probably will be so, yeah. Also like sex. This is my first time writing sex n most of the time I get weirded out by it so... Lemme know if it's ass💀 quirkless AU

This was originally written on May 22 and I'm finishing it now for izuku week, my writing style is outdated or probably the same idk enjoy<33

I mean when have I ever used warning 💀

It was a late stormy night at UA in kaminaris room. All the boys huddled up playing games like, never have I ever, kiss marry kill and more.

In a game of truth or dare, the topic of sex came up. It was midoriya's and being the person denki is, he asked; "have you ever lost your virginity?"

Earning snickers and sneers from everyone in the room.

Midoriyas eyes were wide, brows furrowed in a terrified look. He hadn't lost his virginity. He hadn't even kissed anyone.

Bakugou looked at izukus panicked face already knowing the answer. Despite not being friends in bakugous eyes, he knew things about izuku that no one else knew, including things involving kissing, sex, ect.

Iida instantly attempted shutting the question down, not just for the comfort of his clearly nervous friend but because such inappropriate and personal things shouldn't be discussed!!!

"kaminari! Don't tease izuku into answering such lewd and private things. How about we play a different game."

Bakugou scoffs and chimes in.

"tch, have YOU even lost YOUR virginity, dunce face? Hell, have ANY of you morons even lost it???"

He ends his sentence with a smirk on his face looking at everyone in the room, as silence fills it completely.

Throat being cleared and looks being exchanged between the other boys.

Izuku sighed feeling a load being let off of him, he turned to bakugou and smiled sincerely.

Bakugou double takes looking at izuku eyes slightly widening at his smile. He wouldn't admit it but a slight blush crept onto his face as he rolled his eyes shuffling his knees up to his face to cover the lower half of it still having a smug look on his lightly tinted cheeks.

Izukus smile simply grew wider as he brought his eyes back forward to the other boys as sero decided to change the subject.

"so, has anyone ever heard of summoning demons?~"

Sero sung in a certain tone, hinting at something.

"what are you referring to?" Kirishima said with a smirk and raising a brow

Everyone else was also intrigued in some way, but oh not izuku. That poor little baby was shaking in his little red boots.

Before any of them knew it, they were in the schools basement, the dark, creaky, stinky, scary, dingy, crusty, probably infectious, and unsafe, AND unsanitary, basement.

Ohohoho yeah. Izuku regretted coming to this 'boys only' sleepover. The girls would never let something like this happen!

Izuku was a girls boy, a mamas boy, n js genuinely respectful towards everyone, but women sure did love him, and he knew it. He preferred gaining praise from women than men.

Maybe that's why bakugou always called him a pussy, he enjoyed being around women more than men. Hell, bakugou had probably gone as far as calling him a ladyboy. But that was when they were younger!! (Bakugous had hella improvement I'll let it be shown!)

Izuku gulped hardly, as he followed the other boys into the basement, each step he took the stairs creaked and dented in, he felt like he was gonna fall through n break his neck.

"what are we even doing here, idiot number 3."

Bakugou murmured a bark at sero, due to the heavy echo in the empty, wet, and dingy basement.

"I agree, it's dark, cold, wet, it reeks of mildew, and it seems highly unsanitary to be in here. We could get in serious trouble if we get caught."

Iida agrees with bakugou, pointing out obvious facts of the horrible smelling place.

"IF we get caught, which we won't. Also ouch bakubro... I'll process that pain on my own time."

Sero replied in a hushed tone.

"why is he number 3?" Denki, stupid enough, asks.

"because you and shitty hair are the other 2."

Bakugou explained pointing to the two earning laughs and chuckles from the others.

"hurtful man!" Kirishima says holding his heart with a fake sniffle.

"now now, lets get back to business boys."

Sero boasted hinting to the numerous of articles he found by searching 'how to summon a demon'.

As he grasped everyone's attention, they're eyes adverting to his phone reading what he searched.

...

"are you fucking kidding me?"

"what? What's the matter?"

"you've officially been ranked up to 'dumbest cunt in the fucking world'."

Everyone laughs loudly, but is instantly silenced by the loud lighting and thunder outside.

"thank you. Now, huddle close everyone, let's summon a fucking demon!" Sero exclaims.

Some time later they eventually find an article titled 'How To Summon A Succubus'.

"you're not supposed to uppercase small things like "to" and "the" and other things like that in titles."

Everyone slowly turns their heads to bakugous direction at his sudden words.

"fucking dork"

"I'm not a dork idiot, I just know to correctly use uppercase letters in things to where they are needed. Dumb ass loser." Bakugou says in a whisper yelled voice.

"gentlemen, I believe I've found something." Sero interrupts, referring to him finding instructions on how to 'summon' a succubus.

Everyone looks ahead as sero reads the instructions.

"first and foremost, you do not summon a succubus as there is no technical way. To correctly invite a succubus to your home is easy, but first you must know the dos and donts when it comes down to succubi. Don't, blah blah blah, boring boring boring..." Sero scrolls through and finds the REAL instructions to summoning a succubus.

"ah ha there we are! How to officially summon a succubus! For starters, succubi prefer to know who they're meeting if they haven't watched over you before, interesting, with that being said you should have a glass of sperm for them to taste to know you and what they're working with.."

The dark haired boys voice trails off into silence as he begins to look around at everyone.

"so...who wants to come inside of a cup!!"

Sero exclaims with a faux smile waving his hands around in a 'jazz hands' motion.

Everyone murmurs to their neighbor or to themselves not wanting to volunteer.

...

"how about we all do it? Y'know, let it have options?"

Todoroki chimes into the silence, having everyone look at him as he blinks then turns his head to the side slightly like a puppy.

"well, there's an idea."

"not a bad one actually."

Everyone eventually agreed as sero handed out shot glasses to everyone as they all ushered upstairs.

Iida looked at them all in a fit of disgust as he then turned to izuku who looked down at the cup with a pretty much emotionless face, and took the initiative to speak up.

"there is no way in hell you're all actually doing this, right??" He questions, judging everyone extremely hard.

Izuku looks up to his taller friend and blinks twice before looking forward.

Everyone looks around and in some way agrees.

"what, ya scared four eyes? Scared you won't get picked by the demon thing?"

Bakugou teases which angers iida and makes him look around in a flustered and embarrassed estate.

"succubus, bakugou"

"shut the hell up, shitty hair."

"you've gotta drop that name, man."

As they all scurry off into conversation, iida looks down still slightly embarrassed as izuku notices and pats his shoulder, making iida look down to izuku as he offers iida a soft smile.

Iida sighs and looks forward.

"yeah well you sick cunts can enjoy yourselves, izuku and I aren't taking part in this disgusting situation." He adjusts his posture and his glasses on his face, and sets his shot glass on denkis bedside table folding his arms.

Wait what?

Izuku shoots his head up to iida with wide eyes and a confused face as iida looks down at him ushering for back up to his previous words as izuku simply looks back and forth.

Iida scoffs at this, as it makes bakugou laugh and out his arm around izukus shoulder.

"see look, even little old deku wants to participate, why you gotta be such a loser, man?"

Izuku looks up at bakugou then to iida and furrows his brows in an apologetic manner.

Iida rolls his eyes and scoffs once more.

"fine, you all can enjoy yourselves, really I hope you do. But let's just say this whole, fiasco doesn't work. There'll just be glasses of cum in the basement. What if teachers decide to come down here? Huh? Then what."

He says talking with his hands as he gets even angrier at izukus betrayal.

No one has thought of that.

.....

"welp no going back now."

Denki says as he goes to his bathroom closing the door and locking it as everyone walked off to different places to get themselves off and cum into a shot glass..

Izuku sighed as he ended up walking to his dorm for more privacy.

He looks at the glass in his hand and wondered...

How the hell will he come inside of this tiny thing??

Izuku comes a lot, and by alot I mean... ALOTTTT.

There's just always so much!!

And his post nut clarity is always the worst.

But if there was one thing about izuku, it's that he loved to jack off.

It was just so relaxing to him. It's healthy too! It reduces his anxiety and calms his nerves!

So truly he had no problem with jacking off, he was just worried he'd make a big mess!

Izuku ends up shrugging off the worry and pulls down his shorts, palming himself through his boxers. He sighed, his head dropping back against his door. he starts getting rougher with his motions as his cock begins to get harder and harder against his palm. He ends up whimpering as his palm grazes against his clothed tip.

He opens his eyes, looking down as he hurriedly pulled his boxers down and wrapped his hand around his aching cock, bucking unto his own hand he slowly moves his hand up and down his cock, eyes rolling back as the tip of his length starts dripping with precum.

Izuku always leaks so much pre! His cock just gets so wet with all the pre he leaks, the noises his slippery cock makes is just so loud!!

And it's not like his moans and whispers make it any better, But really don't hold it against him, he just can't help himself!!

He ends up speeding his motions as he moves his hand to the tip of his cock and swirls the tip, overstimulating him and sending him completely over the edge as he rolls his eyes back, muffled moans falling from his lips, as he bites his lower.

He comes undone so quickly as he groans deeply as he cums everywhere, filling up the shot glass that he lowered to the tip of his cock.

His cum shoots long quick spurts from his cock, getting all over his hand, over flowing the shot glass, and even getting on his floor.

His cock slowly softens and twitches, as he sighs deeply trying to gain his composure back as he opens his eyes to see the huge mess he's made.

'shit.' he thinks to himself. Now he has a mess to clean.

Izuku walks back to denkis dorm with a paper towel around his shot glass trying to assure nothing spills on the floor.

He sighs thinking to himself wondering why the hell he even did this.

Izuku was the last one to get back to denkis room, as everyone's eyes shot to his direction he clears his throat motioning that he'd done the task everyone else had.

"alright, izukus the last of us so, let's summon a succubus!!"

The guys whooped and hollered as izuku set his glass down and sighed as bakugou stood next to him exhaling deeply.

"I cannot believe I fucking sat here and came inside of a shot glass for something stupid shit that probably won't even work."

"ditto.."

They all rushed back down to the basement as sero has already drawn the pentagram.

"so we set our glasses of cum around the edges like this," he motions to the glasses everyone had set down in a circle.

"and then we light these candles,"

He snaps, and that makes kirishima and denki go around and light the candles they had set up.

"and last but not least, we say the chant!."

"Yeah, I'm not saying a fucking chant, I'm tired I'm going to bed. Come on nerd."

Bakugou says to izuku as he begins walking up the basement stairs as izuku yawns, following like a lost puppy.

"fine fine we'll say the chant then!"

He says to the rest of the boys as they all grab hands and begin to chant the spell they found online.

[however I'm lazy and couldn't find anything online and don't feel like making anything up so time skip to sleepy bye time.]

Everyone had emerged back upstairs and into denkis room to do the last thing of the sleepover.

Sleep.

Izuku and katsuki had long passed out, iida left long ago to his own dorm.

As the rest of the boys got in their designated spots.

Denki in the bed with kirishima, and the others all around the floor somewhere.

CRASH, BANG KAPOWWWW.

[that's my impersonation of lighting n shit stfu😒]

The loud banging and crashes of the continuous storm outside was enough to wake izuku up. Hell he'd dare even say he already was awake.

He tried to soothe and calm himself by imagining he was in his own bedroom, alone, in his nice comfortable bed.

It'd almost worked up until he heard footsteps. Loud thudding of steps outside the hall.

His eyes shot open wide, with a look of terror he turned his head up towards the door. Practically shaking underneath his cover.

He was scared to say the least. Was it the succubus? Had it come to eat them?

Or maybe banish them all to hell for disrupting it's privacy!

His mind was running a mile per minute, so many things coming to mind thinking of what the demon would do to them.

As he heard the footsteps stop, that was enough to get him up and out of that room, leaving the cover and pillow denki has given him he dashed out and running to his dorm which wasn't too far away luckily.

He had ran so fast he didn't even notice the 6ft succubus outside denkis door.

....

Your POV.

You were in your cutesy little room laying down enjoying your time alone. Long French curl braids in a high ponytail, brown and red wings out together behind your back as your tail moves with a mind of its own.

Being a succubus really is hard work!!

You had just gotten off of 'work' from the human realm, sucking some old mans dick. You love cum. Really you do, but it's not fun when you're fucking the same old cunts who don't bring anything to the table besides little to no cum.

'Where were all the youngsters summoning demons?' It really had you thinking.

You sighed, deciding to drop your horrible day, and watch a movie in your fav pyjamas!

You made popcorn, had a hotdog, and some soda n snacks too.

It was truly perfect.

Until you were oh so rudely interrupted by a pentagram spawning below you. Bright lights of yellow orange and red sucking your pyjamas off, and before you knew it sucking you right back to where you'd never left.

The human realm.

You groan knowing the rules; You can't leave until your job is finished.

You opened your eyes seeing as you were on the ground, in a basement of some sort, it reeked.

You looked around checking your surroundings as something delicious caught your attention.

It was cum. And not just any cum. Cum from teenagers, most likely virgins, boy did you love virgins!!

You smiled widely as you picked up one glass that had a piece of paper next to it.

'sero' it read,

You shrugged assuming who evers cum this was, was named sero.

You sniff the enticing aroma before letting the slimy white liquid fall into your tongue.

It was delicious. You had to taste more!! Luckily for you, there were so many glasses awaiting you. Whoever summoned you, knew exactly what they were doing.

You drank all of them one by one, tasting the different flavors and textures of them all.

You had one more left, a nice thick white load waiting for you, you hadn't really savoured the last ones you devoured, you figured you could take your time with this one.

You picked it up and grabbed the note next to it as well, 'midoriya', it read.

"well, thank you midoriya.~" you whispered in a sultry tone, dipping your long tongue into the small glass. As soon as your tongue touched the liquid, you were in heaven. A nice salty flavor that wasn't too strong but just delicious enough for you to be hooked.

You moaned lowly as you drank all of the come, licking up every little drop inside of the glass. The flavor of his cum truly did have you wanting more.

You got up and walked to the stairs looking up at the door, before taking the steps up to find the source to your delicious heaven.

Eventually you had made it to the dorms, it not being too hard to navigate through the building, you made it to the first floor which was where the boys were camping out in denkis dorm room.

You started walking slowly so as not to wake anyone you only wanted to find the source really, then you'd be on your way.

You eventually stopped at denkis doorz smelling izukus scent through it, although there were other events of the previous cum you had tasted, his was the one you were locked onto.

Before you could do anything, the door flung open as you seen a body running out hurriedly.

You knew that was izuku given when he passed you his scent got stronger. Had you wanting to practically eat him up.

You smirked, and walked toward his same direction.

Izuku had breathed heavily, closing his door and jumping into his bed face first into his pillows as he sighed deeply.

He finally felt calm, comfortable, tired.

Izuku turned over in his bed, pulling his covers up onto him and closing his eyes with a smile and a soft sigh.

You opened his door and closed it loud enough for him to jump.

He looked at your silhouette and the way you walked towards him, he was paralyzed with fear, he couldn't even speak. Just shaking in his bed as you crept towards him.

You crawled into his bed, getting ontop of him.

Your faces are now levelled together, noses touching. Hes so scared, shaking, quietly whimpering, and closing his eyes out of fear.

You smiled at the adorably delicious scene infront of you.

"hello, hunny~" you whisper, breath fanning his face.

He opened his eyes to see you, a beautiful, human looking [for the most part] demon.

He couldn't speak, but boy were you beautiful.

"there we go sweet boy~" you say in a honey sweet voice, trying to calm his nerves.

You were all about consent, really you were, and with him being a virgin all you Wana do is rock his world and make him feel better than life itself.

You giggle as he just stares at you, mouth opening and closing trying to find some kind of words, yet his voice can't seem to make any coherent words or sounds.

You run your claws through his hair in a soothing motion at a slow pace, it really had calmed him. He sighed into your face, head leaning forward and touching your forehead with his.

You smile softly putting another hand of his cheek, removing your other from his hair to fully cut his squishy baby like face.

His attention was brought to you as you brung his head up to face you. he relaxed in your hands face leaning against you warm palms.

"can I have you?" You ask him, still whispering to not alarm him too much, trying to keep the mood set in the soft alley it was in.

He gulped, still not able to get any words out, managing to nod with his head in your hands.

You grin, removing your hands to rub them up and down his clothed body. He sighed heavily, lidded eyes watching your every move closely.

You look him deep in his eyes, not wanting to break eye contact, he felt like you were staring at his soul. Maybe you were, maybe you weren't, he couldn't care about anything in this given moment. All hr wanted was you, the excitement was getting to him as you felt his member get hard against your thigh.

You smirk at the sudden feeling and shift your body so now you were directly on the tent in his pants. Once you heard him whimpered at the feeling you began rocking and grinding your hips into him, at an agonizingly slow pace.

He sighed deeply once more, hands moving to your hips, as you giggle.

"getting bold are we?"

He couldn't even give real words, moaning as an answer due to the feeling of you grinding on him, you were so warm and you were with him. He always thought he'd never get a girlfriend or even lose his virginity but getting to feel this was amazing.

He continually moans as he starts bucking his hips into you making you laugh deeply, and place your hands on his chest to grab some kind of control in this situation.

You start grinding harder into him speeding up your pace, little by little, and boy was this getting to him, his moans started slipping out more fluidly, he couldnt even control them, they just fell out of his mouth.

They sounded so pretty coming from him, his hips matching the pace you had set grinding into him.

"I'm.. gonna cum.. g'na cu...- c-cumming...~"

He finally spoke, eyes rolling back as came hard in his shorts and underwear.

You couldn't help but laugh as you slowed your motions to a complete stop.

His breaths were rigid, as he tried to maintain his composure, he looked up at you, embarrassed and flushed, he had came his pants.

It was so embarrassing and the only thing he could do was hide his face in your fur covered boobs.

You wipe away a tear from your laughter as you look down at him, his face buried in your bossom as you smiled, and got up, he whimpered at the loss of warmth on his face and lap.

"awhh~ poor baby came his pants," you giggle as you look down at the huge wet patch on clothed, his still hard cock.

He looked down at his cock and the huge amount of cum he made. Izuku always cums a lot really, but that was just.... Far too much.. right??

He was so embarrassed he didn't know what to do, back in his previous state of not talking.

You hummed and moved down to untie his shorts and pull them completely off, he whimpered at your strength and how much taller than him your truly were.

Once they were completely off you crawled into of him, you were going to wring this mortal dry. You pull him into a kiss that took him by surprise, he moaned into the kiss having you swallow all of his little mewls and high pitched moans.

You settled above his cock and looked down at him deep in his emerald green eyes, they were washed over with pure lust and were so glossy with his tears forming.

You giggle to yourself before slowly lowering yourself in his unwrapped cock, he choked on his moans instantly and bucked his hips up into you causing you to lose balance and fall completely onto his cock. The stretch was quite a nice one definitely not what you expected.

You had to try hard not to completely lose yourself on his godforsaken cock. He was trying so hard not to cum but it's like his hips wouldn't stop snapping up into your ass, the squelches and plapping sound of your bodies meeting was far too much for his little virgin brain.

Izukus eyes started rolled as his hands instantly went to your hips on instinct, he pulled himself closer to you and began wailing inside of your ear, his sobs were nothing less than adorable, the way he choked moans out and they got strangled inside of his throat was divine. His cock twitching inside of you is what told you that he was soon to cum. Being what you are you didn't mind letting him bury his seed deep inside of you, it sounded like a good time to you.

"I'm ah~ go- going to cum! please please please let- hic! let me cum.."

Oh wow, never once had you said that he couldn't cum. The fact he felt the need to beg to release his dirty cum inside of you is what had you laughing while you bounced in his pathetic little cock. His eyes were squeezed shut trying to maintain the tears that flowed down but there was no stopping them, he was hiccupping and trying his hardest to bury his cock within your velvety walls. The way they convulsed and contracted against his cock had his head spinning, he was delirious.

He was in such a wonderful haze, his mind was being clouded with the pure utter lust he was feeling for you, he was so close to cumming the only thing on his mind was trying to chase his orgasm that soon then crashed onto him like a train. His back arched into you as he squeezed you tight, his arms went around your waist and he sobbed into your breasts.

You laughed the entire time, you continued to purposely squeeze around his cock causing him to be overstimulated. Izuku was shocked by a whole other wave of pleasure and pain mixed, his head started pulsating and spinning with pleasure that eventually he passed out underneath you.

With that you took your leave, you got what you were summoned for and left without a word or a sound creating a portal back to your world. You hope this little perv has adorable little dreams about you<3

AN: where it says "he didn't notice how much taller than him you truly were." After that is where I took over the story, If you couldn't tell.

This is the earliest I've EVER gotten a fic out for izuku week like oml wow the luck now I don't have to stress up and down and what I'm going to post, I love my zuzu fr I do but I cant believe I out myself through this entire week like I'm so stressed out i want to quit but I don't at the same time.

[cilil]

Hi, do you have any advices for budding writers on AO3 or here?

Hey! :)

I've given this some thought and compiled what I hope might be some helpful pointers, but if there's anything else or anything specific you want to hear more about, feel free to ask again. Also I'm assuming this is about the amazing craft of fanfic and not, uh, building a platform or whatever (I wouldn't be very helpful with that, I'm a nobody x)).

Share what you feel comfortable sharing.

So since you're asking about budding writers on AO3 and Tumblr, I take it you're at a point where you feel comfortable sharing your writing online, which is amazing. Nevertheless, I feel the need to once again mention (just for anyone who may be in the same or a similar situation) that it's completely alright not to be comfortable with it (yet) or not to share everything you write. I share almost everything simply because I'm annoying and it makes me feel accomplished and since I've grown pretty comfortable with it, I might as well; but not everyone feels that way and feelings also change. It's completely alright to write just for yourself or a small circle of friends.

Don't worry too much about "being good".

I will be the first to admit that I deeply relate to struggling with perfectionism when it comes to writing (and other creative pursuits). However, as someone who's been reading fic for many years, tends to be into quite niche and obscure things sometimes and is rarely spoiled by big fandoms' abundance of food, I want all writers, especially new ones, to know that you don't have to write the most amazing, perfect, publishing-ready pieces. What matters is your passion and creativity, which will show in your writing regardless of skill level. Not to mention that fic is free and in fact a tool for many to experiment.

That's not to say you can't strive to improve or be good - by all means, I find it admirable if you want to hone your craft and make progress as you continue to write. Just don't let perfectionism ruin your fun and stifle your creativity.

How to get better without trying overly hard.

Aside from just writing, writing and writing (that is the most important part though), how do you improve without making it a point to do so? Well, if it works for you to read/watch guides or you enjoy specific writing exercises, that's great, but one thing that I find gets overlooked a lot in writing spaces is simply: Reading. Just reading for fun.

I find that I often discover little things in other people's writing that I really like and then I think to myself "wow, that's really neat how they did that, maybe I could take a page out of their book" (pun intended) and make it a point to pay attention to these things when I write. Essentially, it's like creating a nice patchwork blanket which is your style, made up of your own voice and preferences as a writer and cool stuff you picked up on the road.

Let me just name some examples, which, yes, are also an excuse to shamelessly blow some writer friends of mine a well-deserved kiss of appreciation. @sauron-kraut writes incredibly polished short stories with beautiful wording and atmosphere that have a lot of little hidden things to discover and dissect, and I want to steal her ability to set the stage and hide those easter eggs. @a-world-of-whimsy-5 is an absolute legend when it comes to writing medieval and medieval-adjacent stuff, and I learned so much from her fics. @i-did-not-mean-to has a way of writing with such esprit and wit that I always end up in a good mood after, a style of narrative voice I've adored for over a decade, and I've greatly improved my humorous writing in particular thanks to her. @crackinthecup has the marvelous ability to craft extremely emotionally evocative scenes, which have encouraged me to be more courageous and experimental in my sentence melody and structure. @tragedybunny has a way of writing that reminds me of coming home to a warm and comfy place, and I will find out how she did it and how I can do it as well.

So as you can see, it can be super helpful to compare notes with your fellow writers. Never be discouraged by someone else's ability; instead learn and expand your own.

Feedback, criticism and community.

Let me just get one thing out of the way: You don't have to take criticism from everyone. Or at all. As far as I understand, the fanfic community has come to to agree that we're doing this for fun and don't give criticism unprompted/when we aren't sure it's wanted or welcome. As a general rule: Take criticism from those you would also seek advice from. Ask for feedback if you feel comfortable, and if not, that's a valid boundary to have and I will gently smack anyone who presumes to pick apart writing that was made for fun and generously shared with the community for free.

The community aspect, however, should be taken into account on other fronts. While I won't tell anyone they have to interact and believe that, in an ideal world, everyone's writing would just speak for itself, it is helpful to engage with the community. Things you can do (both on Tumblr and AO3 if also applicable/possible) include: Respond to people interacting with your works, interacting with other people's works (for example while you're doing your reading sessions and looking at other writers' styles) and just overall being present, being talkative, going with the flow.

Again, this is not a must. But I will say that pretty much all of us want positive responses and interactions on their work and that just won't work if you expect everyone to show up for you all the time and never show up for anyone else. Engagement, passion and community are our "currency" in the absence of money and reciprocity is an important element of that. A lot of friction and complaints in the fanfic community regarding lack of interaction or entitlement are rooted in misunderstandings of this fundamental principle.

But don't take this in a cynical manner. Seek out what you enjoy, share the joy and passion and you'll make friends just accidentally - which is the part that I find makes fandom on AO3 and Tumblr so much fun! (I don't even want to be a "traditional" author anymore, I want this instead😁)

Find your groove and groove along.

Lastly, make sure your writing is fun for you or else it'll become a chore and eventually get ruined for you as a hobby. This is unfortunately a continuous task as your needs and interests shift - for example you might be in the mood to do an entire drabble challenge one month and during another month you feel so drained that you couldn't do another one. Or you might want to write something different for a change. Or whatever it may be.

Either way, one recent lesson I've learned is that I got too tied up in obligations and it left no space for spontaneous inspiration, so I never got to write what I wanted to write in the moment and it pushed me quite close to burnout. Do yourself a favor and always hold that space for yourself. In practice, this could for example mean that you do one event and on the side write this cool new idea you had, instead of doing three events - which is fun and games until it starts getting too much and you don't have time for your passion projects.

Finding your groove also includes the whole technical aspect, such as which writing programs you use, which device (or none at all), where you write, how to make yourself comfortable, how to get in the right headspace for things. I would also like to encourage all of you to be a bit crazy and whimsical about this: For example I've gone to the perfume store, picked out a scent for a specific character in a specific scene and sniffed it while writing the description several times now. Do what it takes. And say goodbye to your squeaky clean search history - you will research some weird stuff just to get that one line right.

So yeah, these are just my random thoughts on fic writing and what has been helpful in order for me to have lots of fun with this hobby. Happy writing!

[mackenzielovee]

let me in — joel miller

summary: joel has secrets, and when you try to dig deeper, he shuts you down.

content warnings: swearing, smut (fingering, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, PinV sex, dirty talk) verbal argument, mention of death, guns, shooting

pairing: joel miller x fem! reader

navigation | my writing

     The radio in the living room plays softly, distracting you from the humidity and frustration you feel in your bones. It’s late — way past the time Joel told you to expect him back — and he knows you can’t sleep without him. 

You lie in his bed in only a tank top and panties, tossing the sheet off of your body and onto his side of the bed. You groan for no one to hear, because the apartment is empty. As usual. 

You swore to yourself you’d do some tidying up while Joel was gone, but you hadn’t. Instead, you read one of Joel’s favorite books, which you only know based on the fact that the spine is cracked in four different places. 

You’ve asked him about it, but he doesn’t tell you much about it. He doesn’t tell you much of anything, in fairness. He’s quiet, brooding, and reserved, but from what you’ve been able to gather about him, it’s for a good reason. 

Now, you stand from the bed and walk over to the couch, to the book, and pick it up. Without even pretending to read it, you flip right to the page and pull out the single polaroid picture you discovered months ago. You’d never worked up the nerve to ask him about it — about her — but you can tell it’s from before. From his first life. 

You stare at him; at the stubble on his chin, the style of his hair, and the goofy smile on his face. It’s a far cry from the man you know now — gray hair, gray beard, and not a single smile given since you’ve met him. The girl beside him, the one who you’re sure is the reason for his wide smile, is beautiful. As much as you want to know who she is, you’re too scared of him to ask. 

The turn of the lock at the door draws you out of the polaroid, which you slide back into the book and toss onto the coffee table before Joel shoves his way through the door. 

He closes the door loudly behind him, then turns and locks it immediately. When he faces the apartment, when he faces you, his shoulders fall and his eyes close, as if the sight of you is enough to relax him just enough. 

“Hey,” you murmur. 

“Waiting up for me?” he asks gruffly. 

He tosses his bag down on the floor, then removes his gun from the waistband of his jeans against his back. He sets it down on the coffee table as he makes his way over to you, collapsing on the other end of the couch and covering his face in his hands. 

“Maybe,” you shrug, scooting closer, “You’re late.”

“Got held up,” he replies, content with giving you no more information than that, “Anyone come to the door?”

“Not like I could answer it if they did,” you remark. 

He scoffs, and when you lay your legs over his lap, wanting some form of physical touch from him, he brings one hand down to your skin. Slowly, his calloused fingers stroke up and down your skin, and your heart skips a beat when you realize he’s doing it without even thinking about it. 

“Yeah, well, I’d never forgive myself if you opened it and…” he trails off, clenching his jaw hard.

You don’t question him or beg him to finish his sentence, but when his palm stills on your skin and his hand wraps around your calf, you watch him carefully. 

His eyes dart over to that copy of the book, and he stares at it for a long moment before he looks away. To the floor, to the radio, then over to you. Offering him a gentle smile, you feel him squeeze your calf twice, which is his way of ushering you over to him. 

“Rough day?” you change the subject as you move across the couch, cuddling into his side. 

His arm wraps around you lazily, but his feet remain planted on the floor. He’s warm, overly so, and his shirt houses patches of sweat and dirt. 

“Same as always.”

“Are you hungry?” you ask him. 

“No. This is good.”

You smile victoriously to yourself and nod against him, then cuddle in deeper. Despite his dirt and sweat, you wouldn’t trade his comfort for anything. 

“Joel,” you say quietly after a minute of silence, “Can I ask you a question?”

He nods when you look up at him, “Yes.”

“Well,” you sit up, staring at him for a long moment before turning, leaning toward the coffee table, “I was reading this book earlier, and I found—”

Just as you open it to show him, he stands. It’s abrupt and aggressive, and you freeze immediately. When you look up at him, his chest heaves and his eyes are wide, but before you can question him, he snatches the book from your hands. 

“You’re touching my fucking things?” he shouts, “What gives you the right?”

Your lips part but no sound comes out. You tense and scoot to the very edge of the couch, holding up your hands to show that you meant no harm. 

“Joel, please, I’m sorry—” you stutter out, but he shakes his head. 

“Fuck your sorry. If it’s not yours, don’t fucking touch it.” 

He takes the book and storms off, not noticing the way you start to shake as he yells. His boots scuff against the wood as he rushes into his bedroom, leaving you alone on the couch. Then, you listen as he removes the floorboards and moves things around, of which you’re assuming he is stashing the book and the picture in there. 

Your eyes close and you make yourself small on the couch, tucking a blanket over your body and resigning to sleeping there. 

Except you don’t sleep. 

You lay there and stare at the ceiling, listening to the soft hum of the radio that neither of you bothered to turn off. You can hear Joel as he moves around in bed, most likely trying to get comfortable in the humidity and the anger. 

You feel as if hours have gone by before he stands. You listen to his footsteps as he comes out of the bedroom, and you squeeze your eyes shut so you don’t have to fill any awkward silences or feel as if you should try and defend yourself. 

Convinced he’ll grab water and head back to bed, you’re more than surprised when you sense him at the edge of the couch, by your feet. More than anything, you want to peek. You want to see his scowl, the crease in his brow, and the frown that lines his lips. Instead, you focus on keeping your breathing steady. 

This does not deter Joel in any way. He walks the length of the couch and kneels in front of you. His warm palm ghosts over your cheek, and when he brushes hair from your face and behind your ear, you finally allow yourself to peel your eyes open. 

He stares at you for a long moment, and you stare back, memorizing every crease, every line, every bit of those big, brown eyes. 

“Hey,” you whisper. 

“Hey, baby,” he replies in a low voice, swallowing before he speaks again, “You never came to bed.”

You shrug, feigning nonchalance, “Didn’t think I was welcome.”

He sighs and looks down at the floor, shifting his jaw around as he debates a response. You don’t dare move a muscle out of fear that he will pull his touch from you, and you need it more than anything at this moment. 

“You’re always welcome.”

His voice is quiet, low, deep. It makes your heartbeat a little faster and your stomach fills with warm honey. When he sees your lips tip up in a smile, he scoots closer to the edge of the couch. 

“I’m sorry, Joel,” you mumble, “I just—-”

“I know,” he stops you carefully, “I shouldn’t have raised my voice.”

You reach up and cup his wrist in your palm, stroking his skin carefully and gently. 

“It’s okay,” you reply. 

“Will you come to bed, please?” 

Before you can even give him an answer, he stands and tucks his arms underneath your legs and back. You giggle when he picks you up, then toss the blanket back down onto the couch. He shakes his head when he sees you in your tank top and panties, then gives your forehead a forceful peck. 

“How are you not hot in all these clothes?” you ask him as he walks through the apartment with you in his arms, “You’re never going to sleep.”

“Who said I want to sleep?” he raises a brow, and when he reaches the foot of the bed, he drops you down onto the mattress. 

You squeal and scramble around in the sheets, sitting up and looking at him with wide eyes. He smirks and unbuttons his shirt, then peels it off and tosses it onto the floor. You sit up on your knees and unbutton his pants, then slowly unzip them while you stare up at him with innocent eyes. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” he practically groans as he shoves his pants to the floor, “You know those eyes get me every fucking time.”

“Sorry,” you mumble halfheartedly. 

He groans again when you lay back on the mattress and gesture for him to join you. He crawls in and kicks off his boxers, then shoves a grabby hand up your tank top. 

When his lips meet your throat, you shove your hips up into his. He growls and takes your skin between his teeth, eliciting a moan straight from your lips. 

“Want this off,” he demands, waving your tank top away before his hands wander down to the waistband of your panties, “These, too.”

You nod and obey, willing to do anything he asks if it means he doesn’t stop touching you. He takes it upon himself to tug your underwear down your legs while you pull your tank top over your head, exposing your entire body to him. 

Nobody knows you like Joel. That is a fact you’re sure of. Nobody knows how to bring you to orgasm after orgasm. Nobody knows how to care for you, provide for you, and keep you safe like Joel. Which is the primary reason why you pull him closer, threading your fingers through your hair and letting out little whimpers as his hands roam your body. 

“Please,” you whine, “Joel, please. I need you.”

“I know, baby,” he says into your neck, against your jaw, as his nose nudges you to angle upward, “Not going anywhere.”

You nod desperately against him as he shifts and hovers his lips over your own. He pulls back and you chase him, begging silently for a kiss. Without wasting another second, he gives it to you. His tongue explores your mouth instantly and his hand trails down your body, dipping between your legs and groaning when he feels how much you want him. 

“Joel—” you pant when his fingers tease you; not inching inside, but simply feeling you for now. 

“I said, I know,” he repeats, “Relax. You know you can’t take me without my fingers, first.”

You nod, and nod, and nod, and when he finally slides his fingers inside you, a loud moan sounds from your lips. He keeps your hips down with his own, keeping his body on top of you and using his thumb to strum over your clit. 

“Oh, that’s it,” you cry, but when he hits that spot, that spongy spot that makes you scream, Joel groans. 

“No, that’s it,” he corrects, kissing you again, “I always find it. Always.”

“You do, you do,” you pant, silently begging for more as you clench around his fingers, “Oh, Joel, almost there.”

“Let me feel it, baby.”

The circles he rubs into your clit quicken, and when he scissors his fingers inside of you, you fall over the edge. He rides you through it, not daring to stop or slow down as you ride out your high against him. It isn’t until your moaning comes to an end that he pulls his fingers from you and kisses you again — this time, softer and sweeter. 

You cup his cheeks in your hand and pull him back, looking up at him in admiration and kissing the tip of his nose just to watch his lips tip up. He definitely seems more relaxed, but you want him to be relaxed completely. 

Much to his surprise, you sit up and push on his shoulders, guiding him so he sits with his back resting against the wall. His eyes widen when you climb onto his lap, then kiss your way up his chest, neck, jawline, cheeks, and finally, his lips. 

“Baby,” he whispers against your mouth.

You pull back and smirk, “I know, Joel. Just relax.”

He swallows and nods his head, then rests his palms on your hips. You take him in your hand and line him up with your entrance, sucking in a deep breath before you start to take him. He guides you down by your hips, then hisses when he feels you welcome him in. 

“Oh, fuck,” he cries out, “Needed this so bad. Needed you so bad, goddamn.”

You bite your lip in both pain and pleasure as he stretches you out, and you are still on top of him before you even consider moving. 

You grind your hips into his and he whimpers, hands now digging into your skin to try and keep you still. You lazily try to pry him off by rolling your hips again, but his grip only tightens. 

“One second, fuck, just hold still,” he commands roughly, “Unless you want me to cum right now.”

You give him a smug grin, “Well.”

“Hush,” he grunts, “C’mere.”

You obey and lower your head, connecting your lips with his again. You kiss him until you feel his grip on your hips gradually loosen, and when his hands fall from your skin altogether, you proceed. 

You begin to move up and down at a slow, steady pace with only one goal in mind: make Joel feel good. Take that stress, that pent up seriousness away. Smooth over his rough edges and let him know that even if he loses it, even if he holds his cards close to his chest, he will still always have you to come home to at the end of the day. 

“That’s so fucking good,” he swears, bringing his hands back up to help guide you, “Can’t believe you take all of me, baby.”

“Hmm, took a while,” you hum, teasing him before giving him another kiss.

He quickens your pace with his grip, and when that’s not enough for him, he starts thrusting his hips up into you. He listens as you cry out for him and lock your arms around his neck, letting the pleasure wash over every inch of you. 

With Joel, you swear he can feel every spot inside of you and is determined to hit it each and every time he fucks you. He doesn’t try to be gentle or tender; he is determined to draw every ounce of pleasure from you and he knows just how to do it. Rough, hard, and unforgiving. 

“Oh, fuck, Joel,” you whimper, “That’s it, that’s it—-”

“I know, almost there, just keep going for me a little longer, okay?”

“Okay,” you agree, tightening around him. 

His hips buck up involuntarily when you tighten, and when you realize how close he truly is, you do it again. His thumb desperately finds your clit and rubs hard, but when that proves to not be enough, he draws his hand back and taps it twice with his fingers. 

You finish almost immediately after; falling into his chest as you moan loudly and ride out your high. Joel’s release comes only seconds after yours, and if not for the way he keeps himself pressed up inside you, you wouldn’t even know. 

You collapse into his chest and cuddle into his neck as you come down from it all. Joel breathes heavily above you, and his hands stroke down your back lightly in a comforting motion. You can feel your heart swelling in your chest, and the desire to tell him rests on the tip of your tongue. You don’t tell Joel often because Joel never initiates it, but you know he loves you. He always says it back, he just never says it first. 

“You’re amazing,” he whispers. 

“So are you.”

He lifts you up and pulls himself out, then gently sets you down on the bed beside him. He stands, tucking his boxers back on over his naked body. Your eyes follow him as he takes a few steps away, then turns back. 

“Water?” 

You nod, “Yes, please.”

You rise from the bed and use the restroom, then return and fish your tank top and panties from up off the floor. Joel watches as you tuck them over your body, then crawl back in bed beside him. You pull the sheet over your bottom half and do the same to him, then take the cup of water he’s offering you. 

“Her name is Sarah.”

Your eyes dart back up to him as he speaks, but you don’t understand his words. You pull the cup away from your lips and wipe your mouth with the back of your palm, then clear your throat.

“What?”

“The girl in the photo,” he clarifies, then leans over and grabs the polaroid out of the back pocket of his pants. He holds it out to you and nods for you to take it, then grabs the cup of water back from you, “Sarah. My kid.”

Your eyes widen slightly, “Your kid?”

He nods exactly once. You look up from the picture and to him, examining the way he clenches his jaw and puffs out his chest. As if he’s reliving some secret memory in his mind and he’s on the defensive, even though he’s really just in bed with you. 

“Love of my life,” he murmurs, his voice somber. 

You scoot closer to him, and when he doesn’t object, you put your head down on his chest. His arm wraps around you the same way it did before, but you love how you can feel more of his skin now. More of his warmth. Suddenly, the humidity and the heat don’t bother you. 

“Did she…” you trail off, not knowing how to ask your question. Thankfully, he knows what you’re trying to say, because he shakes his head. 

“No,” he replies, glancing at the photo over your shoulder again before adding, “She was shot.”

You tense and sit up, looking over into those brown eyes. Immediately, you can tell. He was there. He saw it. He’s been mourning her all this time, which is why he got so defensive over the book and the photograph. It’s why he doesn’t say much, or smile much, or volunteer much about himself. 

His heart was broken beyond repair once, and in this moment, you count yourself lucky to even be able to hold a piece of it. 

“Joel,” you whisper, your voice cracking under the tears forming in your eyes, “I’m so sorry.”

He nods carefully, then removes the photo from your fingers and places it on the small, cluttered table beside the bed. You want to say something, anything, but you know there aren’t words to reconcile his loss. 

“You don’t need to be.”

You run your hand up his arm and shoulder, to his jaw, then cup his cheek. Your thumb strokes over his beard and you pay extra attention to his gray patches, although he knows you love every inch of him. 

“You can tell me about her. If you want,” you offer. 

He swallows roughly, and you’re unsure of the response you’ll get. Slowly, he grabs ahold of your hand, the one on his face, and tangles your fingers up with his own. 

“I, um,” he frowns, looking down, “I don’t think I’m ready for that.”

“Okay, that’s fine. But, when you are, I’m here.”

He nods, “I know.”

He tugs you back into his chest by your entwined hands, letting you slot into his side the way you always do. He readjusts the sheet around the two of you and slides down further on the bed, silently telling you that he wants to sleep, but he isn’t willing to release you to do so. 

“Joel?” you say after a minute or so of silence. 

“Yes?”

“I love you,” you tell him, closing your eyes after the words escape you. 

He’s silent for a beat too long, and you’re convinced he isn’t going to say anything back. 

“I love you, too,” he says. His voice is deep, and you can tell there’s a lot of emotion there. He leans down and kisses your forehead, then lays back on his pillow, “Get some rest.”

“Okay,” you reply, “Goodnight.”

“Sweet dreams, baby.”

You smile to yourself in the darkness. Even though a perfect world with Joel would look entirely different to you, as you lay underneath a singular bedsheet in a tank top and underwear, you think that you’d do anything for him, and he’d do anything for you. That’s about as perfect as you can get.

a/n: ahhh my first joel fic in the books! i hope you guys enjoyed. reblogs are very much appreciated, as is feedback. i would love to hear any and all comments! thank you so much for reading!

*i no longer have a tag list! follow @mackupdates for updates!

[bao3bei4]

ON THE TSHIRT METHOD TO WRITING ESSAYS IN YOUR OWN TIME: 

i have had a couple people mention to me that they would like to write essays too, but they are a little out of practice. so i thought i should gather some scattered thoughts into one place. this is not a systematic guide. i am young and inexperienced and still working out things for myself, but this is my basic process and some things that have helped me, summarized. 

my biggest single piece of advice is to write with your proverbial pussy. you are not writing for a grade so don't act like it. forget rigor, forget academic style, etc. read what you're interested in, and write following up on the threads that you're interested in. don’t sweat the details. just do you.

if you still need more advice..... here’s a long winded post. 

step zero: if you have no clue what you want to say yet 

read. and read a lot.

but be realistic. be kind to yourself. your attention is a precious resource, and it is getting eaten up by shit out of your control all the time. if you’ve had a busy day, you may still have the brain power left to read. i almost never do. lol. so make sure to carve out time on a day off, if possible. otherwise you might end up completely fried, reading the same sentence over and over, and ending up scrolling on your phone LMAO. <-- painful lesson also to this end, if you haven’t picked up a denser book in a while, start with shorter articles, especially ones written more recently. if your attention wanders, try getting a physical book instead. the most important thing is just starting things you’ll actually read.  i’ve seen a lot of people (and been that person) who was like. “oh i’m going to start with THE canonical text in a subject i’m interested in” which makes sense right? but that book is inevitably long and dense and convoluted and boring. you can come back to it later. this shouldn’t feel like a chore! 

genuinely this is the most helpful thing you can do is just. read anything. it may be difficult at first (or always), but it is still the easiest way to engage with the foremost experts from around the world and the entirety of written history on any subject you are interested in. there’s not really a substitute to this. 

note: you may say that people can and do come up with brilliant ideas independently of their access to written works. this is true! but if you are one of them, you should skip this section/post, because you already know what you want to say.  okay that was a little too facetious. let me revise: when i say that, without reading, it will be hard to come up with more complex ideas than what you have now, that isn’t necessarily pejorative. maybe your current ideas and impulses are original and meaningful and complex. if they aren’t, however, you don’t have to resign yourself to it.  your experiences in real life are the most valuable thing you can bring to the table, but it can be very difficult to articulate and contextualize them without community—whether that be irl, or the simple textual company of other writers. you can let other people help you and teach you.  basically, this is a long winded way of saying something extremely simple: reading is not the only way to gain knowledge, or even the best. but it is an extremely consistent and relatively egalitarian way.** **scihub and libgen and sometimes the public library are your friends. (my local library’s book coverage is spotty) who cares about piracy. LMAO. 

you may surprise yourself by how nicely you fall into little spirals. you read one thing. and you are enamored with the way the author approaches their subject. so you end up reading everything else they’ve written, and then you start on the authors they list that inspire them in their interviews. maybe you just read one article that’s a little dry but it cites something else that seems far more interesting. read that next. and so on. 

if you are struggling to read that’s okay. you have options. start a book club (or just get a friend who also wants to read more). if that sounds like too much work, pick a friend to keep updated on all your new facts. you just want to get used to reading something, and telling someone your favorite parts again. skim books. skip the boring parts. drop them entirely and find a more interesting one. no one’s going to quiz you. this is for your own enjoyment. 

also important here: read books that make you want to write. sometimes this is because the methods and/or prose of the author are so exciting, you want to do something just like that. sometimes it’s because the content is so exciting, you want to say something about that too. sometimes they speak so powerfully to your own life, you want to tell people this is me!! i see this!! there are books i just enjoy reading, sure, and i do read them. but you know how, like, a good movie makes you want to tell stories too? good theory should do that too, in my opinion. 

step one: you have some ideas now. 

these ideas don’t have to be set in stone. but you should have an idea now of what you might talk about. personally, for me, i have two interconnected types of essay ideas. 

interventions. this is like [tumblr voice] Why Is Nobody Talking About This. i see some sort of hole. maybe i know how to fill it, maybe i don’t. 

free associations. basically i read one thing, or some analysis of one thing. and then it reminded me of another thing. and i’m like. i want to tease apart their connections, their similarities, and their differences. 

there are more types of ideas, i’m sure. but these are the ones i consistently have. with me, the second kind is more common. very rarely do i find that my thoughts are that original. rather, i’ve found that one of my strengths as a writer is being able to make connections that other people haven’t made, or haven’t made in depth before. IN MY OPINION. 

so i find it quite flexible. maybe i watch a movie, and it reminds me of my own life, because i think two women in the movie could be sad queer freaks. and i’m a sad queer freak. or it could be that i think scum villain could be analyzed through the framework of freudian psychoanalysis. you get the idea. 

at this stage of the process, i don’t have a thesis, necessarily. but i have a couple phrases i’m drawn to. i have a bullet point or two. i have vibes. 

to use an example from this blog, one of my friends hui once mentioned that that one fan image was going around again. we were going ughhh it’s victorian not chinese! together and they said “you should write a meta on it.” i wasn’t sure quite yet what i had to say. but i knew a couple things. 

this is, incidentally, because i had done some research into chinoiserie before, because i had cited the zuroski book for a paper i had to write for an english class some years before on pride and prejudice and its use of descriptions of material culture, an essay that in turn was inspired by my random yet deeply felt conviction that jane austen hated me personally and wanted to kill me.  this is why i encourage reading a lot. i think. 

to work on this stage, make lists. lots of them. i have a .txt file where i keep every essay idea i have. a lot of them are a sentence. or they're lists of books or theorists i think i could make something out of. or they're theses that feel true, but i’m not sure why yet. 

it took me a while to get to this point. just like with writing fic, there was a period when i first started where i was like. i only have one idea. i’m going to write it, and then i’m never going to write again. and then i had just one more idea. after a while. eventually you will find you have so many ideas and the world is full of possibilities. it’s a muscle you have to flex. like reading. and telling people about what you’re reading. 

actually, i feel like there was a step 0.5 here that i completely skipped. 

step zero point five that i skipped: how to generate ideas

my very truly complete “first time writing something semi-academic that was original” (with a loose definition of the word original) was literally just me reading literary criticism of one book, and saying “i think this author’s thoughts can be applied to this other book” and found some textual evidence that supported that the process could be replicated. 

this is like, writing with training wheels on. eventually i got better at it (see aforementioned chinoiserie essay. i hope you agree.). but that was a good place to start for me. it made the proverbial blank page less intimidating, knowing i had a scaffolding. 

i suggest trying this. see how it goes for you. read around until you find some piece of criticism, or just some theory about how something works, that you like. and using your newfound hammer, go look for some nails. 

note: i know this expression is meant to like. be a negative thing. but you do have to start somewhere. it’s okay if it sucks. it’s just for your practice and your enjoyment. 

be cautious of stances. weak writing (in my OPINIONNNN) tries to unilaterally defend or condemn a behavior. what you need to do is treat your writing as a bit. and then you need to run with it. you need to take it farther than what is reasonable. if this bit is truly actually deeply true, then what does it mean about yourself? it’s like using a new set of pronouns as a joke or something. you know what i mean? (that was an example of what i’m trying to communicate here)

what else is key to look out for... look for oppositional pairs or tensions. look for perverse incentives and vicious circles. look for embarrassing ideas. that is, what would be extremely embarrassing if it was true? (or to admit that it was true) you may go—tshirt, here you’re just describing things that are sexy. yes, exactly, that’s the point. you want things that thrill. 

just keep reading and making notes until everything echoes with something else. now you’re ready for step two. 

step two: refine your ideas further. 

let me do this by demonstration. once more extending my earlier example of my chinoiserie essay, i knew that i really wanted to take zuroski’s points and basically... steal them. this is called “citation,” i guess. but i thought the following insights were useful to me: 

british women were invested in chinese material objects 

they incorporated them into their own subjectivity

past a certain point, they no longer “consumed” these signifiers, but these signifers became theirs 

critique of one was able to stand in for critique of the other

and from being on fandom twitter, i already had the following insights: 

people deliberately blurred the lines between china and england when it came to fans and tea

people also liked talking about victorian modesty when it came to china 

so it seemed like victorian england and china had a privileged relationship, in a lot of people’s minds in fandom. 

so it didn’t really seem a stretch to say... how can we look at one history, and apply it to our present? 

it was a bit of the combo of the two: i saw something i didn’t see people were talking about, and it reminded me of something else i’d read before. 

something that helps me a lot is tweeting about my essay ideas. if you have me on my private account, you already know this. it forces me to explain myself to someone who doesn’t know what i’m talking about in a very succinct way. oftentimes, i tweet something out while i’m brainstorming, and then i steal the phrasing back into my essay. see? tweets can be writing too. 

this is microdosing on step zero’s “read something and practice telling a friend about it.” now you’re writing something and telling a friend about it. 

step three: okay now you can like. open a google doc 

make an outline. i know i know i know. i’m sorry. you can start just barfing thoughts if you want, but eventually everything that was on the top of your head will be out. and now you can start thinking about structure. the reason the outline is important is because it makes clear the logical progression from one idea to the next. 

i know i usually bounce around in my writing (a tendency which has been magnified here because this is so casual LMAO), but i always want to make sure that my points are substantiated. if we want to talk about how a causes b, we should prove a, we should prove the causal link, and only then can we infer b, for instance. it doesn’t really matter what order that happens in (or even that we set about it that way), but the more complicated your idea is, the longer checklist you need. it’s just a checklist. that’s all. 

as you start writing, you’ll probably need to read some more. you’re going to want to say something you think is true, but you’re going to realize that you haven’t proved it (or you can’t). go look to see if someone else has proved it. 

maybe you’re right. add that evidence in. maybe you’re wrong. now your essay has a new direction. there is a living thing beneath you. actually, on that idea— 

i tend to structure my outlines (if i’m not sure yet what my point is) by pasting a bunch of quotes in a document, and reorganizing them until they make sense, they seem to flow. and then i start explaining why, until i realized i have begun to walk off in a new direction. always embrace that new direction. eventually you will find that you have not been taking twists and turns, but actually you were dizzily walking along a straight path. (unless you have been unfocused and you are trying to say too many things at once. ask a friend to read your essay if you’re not sure which is the case.) 

quotes are the smallest unit of your analysis. work with evidence. or, at least, i do. it makes writing an essay like solving a mystery. the idea of just spontaneously generating something new fills me with terror. rather, i want to autopsy something, trace its steps, and then discover how it came to be dead. this may not be true for you. but it’s true for meeeee and this is my post. 

tl;dr

0. read something and tell someone about it/post it out

0.5. come up with a bit and run with it

1. think "why is no one talking about this" or start free associating

2. come up with weird connections and tell someone about it/post it out

3. collect all of your posts and ideas into a gdoc and organize them.

anyway i like reading posts like this because i’m incredibly nosy. so i tried to write out the sort of thing i like to read from other people. i don’t suggest you actually try to replicate it (if anyone would even want to.) practically basically i just encourage you to try any single part of this that you think was interesting or relatable or helpful. personally, i suggest reading a book and posting your favorite lines from it. if you do this a couple times, i think you will find the seeds of an essay waiting for you in your own posts. 

[blazehedgehog]

After watching SAGE's 2024 trailer, you ever get the feeling that most people want to be making indie games instead of fan games nowadays,? Every year there's been less and less fan works there.

This is the first year I've really felt it in any meaningful way.

There have been attempts for more than a decade to rename SAGE to drop the "Sonic" part. I've always pushed back against that and at this point the branding is too strong to give up, I think. People know about and come to SAGE because the brand is strong. Renaming it would be a death sentence.

Taking off my business hat, it's a bummer to see fangames in the minority here. Everybody wants to hop on that indie game gravy train and chase the success of Pizza Tower (seriously, count how many Pizza Tower clones are in the trailer this year) or Freedom Planet or Spark the Electric Jester or whatever.

And it's easy to congratulate people for striking out on their own and making original games. I was one of the many voices urging Sabrina to divorce Freedom Planet from the Sonic franchise and make it into an original game she could sell. So she ran a crowdfunding campaign (multiple, actually), was successful, and now we have two Freedom Planet games. And that's great!

But... does that mean all fangames should go away forever?

The example I lean on the hardest is comic books.

A lot of the guys who created the biggest super heroes aren't around anymore. They gave up control long ago or are straight up dead now. These books are effectively officialized fanfiction now, as are the $300,000,000 movies based on them. An ever-increasing number of people writing, drawing and directing these characters today were not alive when they were originally created.

But people still keep writing Batman stories, officially or otherwise. Because there are some stories you can only tell with Batman. Now, you could break off and make your own character that's similar to Batman, build up this history for him, and then finally tell your original story with that character. And maybe that's satisfying, to have built something of your own like that.

But for one: that's a lot of work. Batman is interesting because he has decades (almost a century now) of history behind him to play off of and work with. There are people out there who will tell you to just start writing your dream story and forget about building up to it first, but that's more about motivation and confidence than the idea that stories don't need historical context.

And two: that's already been done.

There's a good chance you know who Rob Liefeld is from his, uh, "distinctive" art style. He also created Deadpool, a katana-wielding mercenary assassin that dresses in red and black, whose real name is Wade Wilson. But before Deadpool, he created Deathstroke, a katana-wielding mercenary assassin that dresses in orange and black, whose real name is Slade Wilson.

Here is a guy who has built a career on copying his own work (and the work of others) over and over and over again.

Did it make Rob Liefeld rich and famous? Technically yes, but he kind of got rich because other people made better work using his characters, and he's famous for being kind of a hack.

So which is better?

Creative output you can do right here, right now, today, but is considered "fanfiction" or "fanart" or a "fangame", which may or may not lead to you being the person handling the official thing at some point down the road...

Or spending years of your life toiling to bring an original concept to life, and even if you struggle through all of the boredom and hardship of getting your original product out the door, it gets lost in the noise of now-million other creators trying to do the exact same thing. And then, at the end of your launch, after 2, 3, even 5 years of working and working and working, you've only made enough money to cover rent on your apartment for a month and a half.

Or, to put it another way:

Are you ditching fangame development because you have a legitimately great story you want to tell, or are you just doing it because you can't make money on a fangame?

Are you just creating another Bloodstrike?

As someone who has struggled to justify putting lots of hard work into a fangame myself, and have both made very popular fangames and some not-so-great original games, I don't know if I have a definitive answer for you. But I do wish there were more fangames at the fangaming event, and I will say, as always, if I could get paid a livable wage for making fangames, I would drop everything and do it in a heartbeat.

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU Drabble - Starcrossed

Here we go! the next Drabble :D @spotaus

As the poll ended it gave me two options and I wanted to write a Cross POV. So. Starcrossed :D

First: here Prev: here Next: here

Timewise?

We are about... a Month and like three weeks in. So a month of Nightmare being alone. Three weeks of him being with the gang. about a small week after Killer soul-adopting Nightmare (with Dust adopting Nightmare in the first week as the madlad he is).

Okay? We good timeline wise? okay.

As always, unedited and unbeta'ed. This is not ever going to change unless i one day decide to make a full story of these drabbles and add extra stuff and change the chapters up.

Anyway!

*------------------------*

Cross rubs his face as he continues to walk "Dust."

Dust just hums to let him know he heard.

Cross shoots him a look "He has legs. he can walk." with he, Cross obviously means Nightmare.

Dust doesn't even look at Cross or look in anyway surprised by that sentence. Instead he just keeps walking as he holds Nightmare in his arms "I know."

Cross stares at him but Dust doesn't continue to speak.

He groans "So why isn't he walking?!"

Dust shrugs and instead bounces Nightmare up a bit to enable Dust to have a more secure and stable hold on Nightmare.

Nightmare for his part does not look bothered as he just relaxes against Dust as he looks back over Dust's shoulder and watches other people go about their day.

Cross rubs his face "honestly what is the deal with you and carrying him?"

Dust shoots him an amused look "I want to."

Cross throws his arms and hands out "That can't be the only reason!"

Dust shrugs "Don't need more reasons."

Cross glares at the ground as they continue walking. He looks up and points at a store "This one?"

Dust looks at it and shakes his skull.

Cross groans loudly "What is wrong wit this one?!"

Dust raises a brow "Wrong style."

Cross crosses, heh, his arms as he glances at Dust "You know. this whole clothes shopping thing would be a lot easier if you actually picked a store to enter."

Dust shrugs again "Not good enough." and he gently bonks his skull against Nightmare's.

Cross can't believe this is the same Dust that got his own clothes by walking into the frist store he saw and grabbing the first set of clothes he saw. before calling it a day. Dust's wardrobe was hardly ever actually his size.

Now? The first store was too low quality; then not the right colours; then wrong materials; then too bland; then too sexy, with this one Cross had agreed and questioned why they would need a shirt for a six year old with the words 'lady killer' on them; then to tight and restrictive; and now just 'not good enough'.

When Cross agreed to help Dust get Nightmare new clothes instead of breaking and entering a place wiht Killer he had hoped it would be the less stressful option.

Cross rubs his face "Wiht you being this picky he is never going to get clothes that fit him."

Dust shrugs again and seems fully unbothered. Which may just be because Nightmare primarily still wears his stuff.

Cross doesn't get it. well he kinda does. Babybones are cute nad he also notices the need to take care of him but. It is Nightmare! It is a matter of time before he is an adult again and then none of this will have mattered! Or maybe they will have and then what? How would he recover from this?!

It is best to remind himself that this may be Nightmare and he may be six but Nightmare will one day become that powerful and formidable monster again and so to keep treating him with the respect he deserves!

They walk silently through the twon for a moment and Cross can see that Nightmare is dozing in Dust's hold. completely content and trusting.

Cross shoots a look at Dust. "I just don't get it...."

Dust blinks nad looks over "What?"

Cross feels himself grow warm with embarrassment. He hadn't meant to say it out loud and he says as much.

Dust rolls his eye lights and waits with a raised brow.

Cross grumbles but tries to explain "How can you... treat him like a babybones that easily?"

Dust tilts his skull and glances down at Nightmare before looking back at Cross "Because he is one." the way Dust says it implies it is the obvious answer.

Cross groans as he tries to explain more "But he used to be big and an adult. Or at least look like one? How can you jsut... switch to seeing him as a babybones?"

Dust tilts his skull adn snorts "easy. people change. people you watched grow up or grow older, do you still treat them like kids even though they are adults. because you knew them as kids?"

Cross blinks nad speaks "This is different?"

Dust shakes his skull "I don't agree. it is the same concept. just slightly different. he used to be a child. magic gave him the body and brain of an adult. but his soul was sitll a child and once the magic was gone he is a child again. So you treat him as a child."

Cross frowns as looks to the side "What if he becomes on adult again?"

Dust starts to grin "I mean. that is usually how growing up works."

Cross knows he is blushing again and glares "You know what i meant."

Dust chuckles and shrugs "The same still implies. We will just be lucky we managed to skip the teenage years with him."

Cross wasn't sure what he expected as answer but maybe he should have seen something like this coming. Dust was after all all for this parentship thing they have going on right now... and Dust is a very smart and logical person. Of course he managed to find comparisons to normal day life and managed to accept it more easily. Hell Dust probably has even more examples ready to use if Cross asks for it.

It is still just... difficult to accept for him. Cross will need more time. Luckily none of them seem to mind him lagging behind in this case. Killer had also taken longer than Dust to accept the situation fully, but Killer managed to work it out.

Horror is much chiller about what is going on. He didn't seem surprised at Dust's reaction and even less at Killer joining the 'parent-camp' with Dust.

Maybe there is just something wrong with him... it wouldn't be the first time...

Cross sighs as they stop by the plaza and manage to just see the house that Horror and Killer should be robbing. "well, either way we are soon out of time and will have been unsuccessful" great. the one thing they had to do was get Nightmare a spare outfit. They didn't even need to try shoes and-

Dust freezes "fuck."

Cross turns "what is wrong?" as he says it he sees Dust eye the plaza around them, all while he ducks further and further behind the fountain as Nightmare shakes.

Dust looks around the plaza "Stars. All three." he glares "empty... can't make a break for it using the crowd as cover..."

and a teleport would be too loud and will clue them in on them being here. Fuck indeed.

Cross sneaks a look and sees the three skeletons talk and converse casually. the rattling from Nightmare is a sign of pure fear and Cross feels himself grow worried even as he texts Horror and Killer about their emergency.

How... how would they react to Nightmare being a child? Dream had already made it clear that he thought Nightmare was corrupted and none of his brother had remained. What would he do if he saw Nightmare?

Best case scenerio would be him kidnaping Nightmare and locking him away... Worst case just... dusting him. Make sure Nightmare never becomes the powerful being he can be.

Cross notices that they have been seen as Dream looks shocked while Blue waves and starts to shout "Hey! DUst and Cross!" Cross acts as if he didn't hear or noticed them.

Cross stares at Dust "What do we do-"

and Dust just, undoes his own hoody. he pulls it over his head and even ignores the red scarf that falls to the ground next to Nightmare- wait when did Dust put Nightmare down.

Dust puts the hoody on Nightmare with one smooth motion and pulls the hoody up, he next uses the strings to make it tight and tests to make sure it doesn't come off easily.

Dust stares at Nightmare as he quickly puts on the scarf again "You just keep your face and skull against my shoulder and neck okay? Don't glance, don't react. Just act shy or asleep. Nothing will get you." and Dust picks him up again. Nightmare, without a single word, pushes his face into the soft scarf and together with the large hoody there is nothing visible that could be used to indentify him.

Holy shit that is so smart-

"Hey you two! We didn't expect to see you just hanging- what... is that?!" Blue looks beyond excited as he stares at the tiny bundle that is Nightmare. Cross feels his anxiety and panic turn hotter into a raging fire. Dont. get. near. him.

Dust just shoots Blue a look and speaks in a quiet voice "sh. quiet."

Blue gives a sheepish look and speaks much softer "oh. I am sorry. The kiddo is tired?" Dust just nods.

Cross sees his change and nods as well "We were taking a quick break but were going to leave again." he can see Killer and Horror look through the window of the house they are robbing and sees them see their situation.

Blue looks sad but nods "Yeah. I get that-"

Ink interrupts him "How did you two get a child?!"

Dream looks suspicious but doesn't say anything.

Fuck, he can probably feel Nightmare's fear doesn't he? and he wouldn't know it is fear directed at the Stars... Oh no.

Dust raises a brow and doesn't even bother to answer as he starts to take a few steps back, away from the Stars. Cross cna see that Horror is climbing down the side of the house as Killer glares at the Stars.

Ink gasps "I knew it! You two kidnaped a child!" he holds out his hands "Hand the child back and we will find their parents!"

Dust growls as he steps further back.

Cross panics and answers without thinking "We didn't steal him! He is Dust's you idiots!"

dead. silence.

The three Stars look shocked at Cross and Cross can actually see both Horror and Killer also stare at him in shock.

Ink snorts "Really? and who is the other parent?"

Cross huffs "First off, you don't nessesarily need two parents to make a child, learn basic monster biology first before making claims. second, obviously it is" think think think think think just say something! "me." NO NOT THAT!

The silence of before is NOTHING compared to the silence now. Cross is actually sure he can hear a pin drop in one of the stores around them at the moment.

No one moves and it doesn't help that Cross can see both Dust and Nightmare shoot him incredulously glances.

Oh please someone shoot him because Horror even pauses his own climb to shoot him a raised eye brow while Killer is ACTUALLY wiggling his eye brows at him.

Just end him. Please his mind did not work with him. He had just been thinking so much about how everyone had been treating Ngihtmare and how he saw the situation.

Dream is the one who coughs and looks to the side awkwardly "oh. wow. euh... congrats? I didn't realise you two were... you know... an item." please please please please shut up. "and a babybones as well! Wow! That is... unbelieveable!"

Blue nods "Yeah! No one knew!"

Cross still can't find the words and is actually afraid of what he will say next. Dust however shrugs and has managed to pull his face back in his normal bored look "prefer privacy. it is no ones business." and he raises a brow at them.

Blue smiles brightly "of course! We won't tell others. stars knows everyone wants a quiet moment nowadays..."

Dream nods before quickly changing the subject "right! We were just curious what you two were doing out and-" he looks horrifed "Oh stars... you two are on a date! A fmaily date! and we crushed it and interrupted it and we are so sorry!"

Cross suddenly understands why Chara and Gaster would use the reset and overwrite power. please just let him change this moment to have been anything else. please.

Dust hums and shrugs. Not really answering any question.

Dream still looks embarrassed "anyway! we... euh... well... were wondering what you were doing. Now we know that that is great! euh... So... my brother just... doesn't mind this?"

Any embarrassement disappears. Hot rage in his body. Cross glares as his crosses his arms.

Dream sputters but continues "you know... be is so against positivity... and this... this is a beautiful and wonderful thing! Doesn't he...isn't he..." he smiles sheepish.

Cross glares "no. He doesn't. In matter of fact. He is very fine with the situation at hand. very willing to help in a way he can." Cross isn't even lying. While Nightmare doesn't like having been changed back he isn't diffficult anymore and more than happy to stick with Dust, and them all, now. Nightmare is also not fussy when out and about on missions and aside from being grumpy he is a perfect good babybones.

Dust nods "you should stop talking about people you know nothing about." he looks at Cross "lets go. he is tired."

Cross nods and sees Horror sign at Killer to get down as well. Killer shrugs and just lets himself fall from the third floor right into Horror's arms. The two disappear into some side street.

Cross nods and looks at Dust "you first." Cross will just walk behind Dust and make sure the Stars don't get any glimbs near the end.

Dust nods and turns easily as he walks away, Cross can see how Dust changes the hand mid turn and Nightmare sinks a little lower. Making it that his skull doesn't even peak over Dust's shoulder.

They walk away in silence and take many turns to get some distance. As soon as Cross is sure the Stars can't hear or see them he says so. Which causes Dust to nod before sprinting, Cross is quick to follow.

They reach the edge of town in record time and Cross glances back "okay. we are good. we are fine... we got out."

Dsut nods before looking at him very amused "we made a babybones?"

Cross feels himself grow warm for so many reasons as he sputters "I panicked! I am sorry I implied we were- that we did!" he hides his face.

Dust chuckles and pats his shoulder "It is fine."

Cross relaxes and smiles in thanks.

Dust raises a brow "Killer will never let you live this down."

Cross groans "just end me."

Dust hums "I don't know. I don't think killing the other parent of my child works in my favour." he grins so goddamnit amused.

Cross is never going to hear the end of this.

*-----------------*

First: here Prev: here Next: here

Cross was so close to soul-adopting Nightmare but then the Stars interrupted and Cross panicked.

Also, important. Noticed how Cross only apologised for implying he and Dust made the babybones together? But not that he is a parent? Cross is getting there. It will just take him a while.

[josephquinnswhore]

got another pedro x plus size reader (because they give me confidence and make me feel better about myself)

going to a premier of one if pedro movies and then going to like an after party with all his celeb friends. having drinks and fun etc. turns into reader and pedro dancing and reader grinding/twerking on pedro.

goes based off that video of tiffany hadish dancing on pedro at a party and oh how i envy that woman. *hey alexa play that should be me by justin bieber*

then they go home and yeah make that shit

❤️‍🔥🔥 spicy 🔥❤️‍🔥

(i love you and thank you for sharing your writing you deserve the world babe 🥹🩷 )

His Girl - pedro pascal x female reader

Summary: unknown feelings between you and Pedro is admitted after some sexual tension.

Word Count: 3.2k

Content Warnings: friends to lovers trope (hope you don’t mind), drinking alcohol, spicy dancing, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, missionary, creampie. :)

Note: I’ve not felt peace since I’ve seen this video. He’s so bashful and I would love nothing in the world more than to shake my ass on this man. (And hug him) 💜🤌🏼 song is 'just a little bit' by 50 cent. you know..... that one tiktok edit <3

You knew you messed up coming to an afterparty with you best friend, Pedro. You knew you would end up drinking too much and having too much fun, you knew you would pretend for a night that Pedro was yours and things would be everything you ever wanted in the morning, but it was never, it was always you and Pedro sharing the same bed, fully clothed from the night before, both with pounding heads and hungover. A vomit bucket had been placed on your side on the bed, who did it you were never sure, but it was almost routine for you two to hangout afterwards.

Which is why you were reluctant to join Pedro this evening, a bar, with drinks and dancing, it was inevitable and you could hardly bare it anymore. The pain was too much for you to handle, being Pedro's friend was too much for you when you had moments when you acted like a couple. The moments like this where you were by his side, it was insufferable, you found yourself wanting more than friendship, not daring to speak a word no matter how much it hurt.

“You look incredible, give me a spin gorgeous.” You oblige, cheeks flushed hot and red at Pedro’s praise. He takes your hand in his, holding it above his head as he spins you, looking you up and down to get the full picture of you.

Your curves on full display in the dress that clung to you, your hips accentuated had Pedro feeling feral, like something was going to overcome him and he was just going to pounce-he could hardly contain the way his cock twitched at the sight of you.

“Alright, alright. We better get a move on or we’ll be late.” Encouraging him out the door, you give him a gentle push as you lead him out of your apartment, the feeling of his broad shoulders under your fingertips had your hand lingering a moment longer than it should’ve. God he looked incredible, the suit fit him perfectly, his tummy slightly hung over his pants as the white dress shirt underneath was tightly tucked into his dress pants.

His hair was soft and unruly as the curls sit on his head, a masterpiece thanks to your fingers making quick work of his messy hair and some styling mousse.

He opens the door for you, like a complete gentleman, little do you know his eyes are stuck to the picture of your ass bending over to get into his car. Fuck he really has to get a grip of himself.

He follows the gps instruction, coming to a stop at a red light, you realise he’s starring at you, your ears tingle at how hot they feel under his watchful eyes.

“Do I have something on my face?” You question anxiously, pulling down the reflector to check in the mirror if there was something he could be starring at, wanting to save yourself from further embarrassment.

“No, you just look beautiful.” You feel the ache in your heart forming before he finishes the sentence, realising how much you love this man; it was difficult, it almost felt forbidden. Pedro didn’t do relationships, you knew you were absolutely fucked from the moment you met him.

“Hey, everything okay?” You hum in surprise as he pulls you out of your own head, not realising how much your thoughts had consumed you. His brown orbs are full of concern as your mood changes after his compliment, he thinks he’s done something wrong.

“Yeah, sorry. Just got some things on my mind.” His hand rests on your forearm, offering a gentle caress to keep you grounded, with him.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He pulls up to the valie parking, the car still running as the man dressed in a tuxedo takes Pedro’s car keys.

“No, it’s fine. Let’s just enjoy our evening, sorry for being a bummer.”

Pedro can’t help the frown that pinches his eyebrows together, he wanted to help, to hold you, he couldn’t stand seeing you like this, so distant and far from the woman he knew you to be. He sees the way you push it all back internally, like putting a half read book back onto the shelf to be finished later, the fake smile that sits on your lips as you enter the venue.

The bar is full of people you know, the purple lights shining bright on your matte purple dress, the colour looks incredible on your skin as you approach the bar to ask for a drink. The drink is slid across the bar and you take a sip, scrunching your face up in disgust but swallow the cool liquid anyway, it warms your insides in a way that’s addicting, so you throw your head back and finish what’s in the glass. You ‘ah’ as you set the glass down and order another, confidence through the roof as your empty stomach consumes the calories from the drink.

The lack of food in your stomach had the alcohol settling in your blood stream too quickly, it went straight to your head, feeling a little woozy as you’d consumed the second drink. The tall glass full of nothing but alcohol, your tolerance was below average and you mindlessly leave Pedro at the bar, trying to forget about the love you have for him. Tonight you were going to have fun.

You wished you could’ve prepared yourself for the night ahead of you.

Things were going great for most of the night, casual talk with some family here and there, after your sixth drink in one hour you were beginning to regret not taking more time in between. The last of the liquid slips down your throat, and for the first time since you arrived together, you see Pedro watching you.

A familiar tune rings in your ears through the blaring speakers that would leave you with a headache tomorrow. But for now, that tune set something slight in you, you set the empty glass down on a nearby table, your body moving to the beat. This song did things to you, reminded you of him. You decide to put on a show for him, since he was watching and you were absolutely out of your mind giddy and drunk.

Damn baby all I need is a lil' bit

A lil' bit of this, a lil' bit of that

Get it crackin' in the club when you hear the shit

Drop it like it's hot, get to workin' that back

You keep eye contact as you roll your hips to the music, feeling completely yourself as you amerce yourself and give in to the music completely.

You don’t feel him at first, once you realise he’s behind you, you smirk mischievously with an idea that’s probably not a good idea, but fuck it. He was looking so fine and this song had you feeling some kinda way.

Girl, shake that thing, yeah, work that thing

Let me see it go up and down

Rotate that thing, I wanna touch that thing

When you make it go 'round and 'round

His hands find your hips, guiding you closer to him as you shake your ass skilfully, grinding on him teasingly, you look back to him and his hair is messy, eyes are dark and he’s got one hand rubbing the back of his neck bashfully, a shy grin on his lips as he enjoys himself and the sight of you on him.

The crowd that’s surrounded you was cheering, their voices and noise in the back of your mind as you stand straight and turn to face Pedro, wrapping your arms around his neck, his arms around your waist as you and he work in sync to move against each other.

I wanna unbutton your pants just a lil' bit

Take 'em off and pull 'em down just a lil' bit

Get to kissin' and touchin' a lil' bit

Get to lickin' it, a lil' bit

Pedro’s hand caress your hips, running them up and down your curves, dark eyes watching you intensely as you show off for him, your confidence attracting him to you tenfold. The way your body moved effortlessly, the way you held eye contact with him and ran a hand down his chest seductively had him weak in the knees.

Your hands make quick work to unbutton the top three buttons of his shirt, never minding the people around you that are videoing the interaction, you felt like you and Pedro were the only two people in the room. His hands caress your ass, grabbing a handful in a state of his own drunken haze and need for more of you. He pulls you closer, you’re flush against his sweating body and you feel his rock hard cock straining in the confines of his pants.

You feel yourself soaking your perfect lace panties as his hands guide your ass to grind against him, his eyes breaking contact with your own to lean his forehead down onto your shoulder, kissing the bare skin in butterfly kisses, licking a stripe up your neck never reminding the sweat.

“C’mon baby you’re killing me, need you do fucking bad.” You gasp at his full transparency, regardless of your flirty interaction on the dance floor the song fades out, he still holds you against him, not wanting to lose this moment with you.

“Let’s go home handsome. I’ll take care of you.” He gives you one last squeeze of your ass and rushed through the farewells of the crowd, you walk closely in front of him to hide his indiscretion. Once you’re outside, the cool air has your teeth chattering as you wait for an Uber Pedro had ordered, he would worry about the car later.

You feel a warmth embracing your shoulders, soft material clinging off your body. You turn to Pedro and see he’s given you his suit jacket, left in his white long sleeve dress shirt that’s still tucked into his suit pants. He suddenly seems shy as your eyes scan him up and down, pausing when you see his soft tummy slightly overhanging his dress pants, your hands caress him in a silent praise, but verbalise it anyway, knowing he’s insecure about it.

“Fucking love your tummy, you know that?” You’re swaying, he’s convinced that it’s just because you’re drunk, in a way because you were trying to distract yourself from whatever was upsetting you earlier.

“I know baby.” He holds your head to his chest, playing with your hair with his fingertips grazing your scalp you let out a groan, he always knew how to make you feel good in an intimate way.

You pass out as soon as you get in the Uber, Pedro watches over you to make sure you’re still breathing, the amount you had to drink tonight was more than he’d ever seen. He also didn’t want you to choke if you vomited, so he pulled your body into him, turning your head downward facing his lap, yes it would be unfortunate if you did happen to puke right into his lap, but hey-he would take the chance.

He pays for the Uber when you arrive back at your place, he manages to pick you up bridal style, all while digging through your purse to find your keys to unlock the front door. Not knowing how to manoeuvre around your house in the dark, he turns a light on which stirs you from your slumber, your eyes fluttering open just as he sets you down in your bed.

He returns with a wet washcloth to wipe your face, trying to cool you down, offering you a drink of water which you accept. “Thanks.” You mumble embarrassed of your shenanigans tonight. “Need any help getting into your pyjamas?” You nod pathetically, bottom lip jutting outward in a big pout as you give him your best puppy dog eyes. Your legs still felt like jelly and your arms were too heavy for you to lift, you were starting to sober up, but you just wanted to lay in the comfort of your mountain of blankets and too many pillows.

He unzips your dress from the side, peeling the straps from your shoulders, pulling it down to your ankles and hanging it up on the coat hanger and up on the wall, not wanting to crinkle or have the delicate material stepped on.

He didn’t realise you weren’t wearing a bra when he comes back with pyjamas, the only thing covering your body was the small piece of material of your black mesh panties. He feels guilty that his cock bounces at the sight of you, bare. You’re more perfect than he ever could���ve imagined. He feels like a pervert, you need his help and he tells himself he’s doing wrong by you.

Your hand grasps his, drawing his attention back to your face, your bottom lip sucked in between your teeth as you watch him, noticing his internal struggle as he sees you, all for him.

You grab him by the collar, pulling him down to you, smashing your lips into his in desperation, tears of pent up feelings and hidden emotions coming to play in the fight for dominance. He pulls back, gasping for air, your hands tangle in his hair and tug lightly which earns a soft moan from him.

“We don’t have to do this.” He offers, giving you an out before you possibly ruin your friendship.

“Want to, want you. Love you so much, please.” A single tear escapes the corner of your eye, he wipes it away with his thumb, sincerity on his face as you confess your love for him.

“Fuck baby I’ve always loved you, why didn’t you say anything.” You help him unbutton his shirt, discarding it to your bedside nightstand, it knocks something off in the process which makes you laugh.

“Was scared you wouldn’t want me cause of how I look.” Pedro grips your face gently with one hand, forcing you to look at him, a sympathetic look strewn on his face, “oh baby, you’re so fucking perfect. And god you know how to shake that ass.”

You giggle as he grabs a handful of your ass, pushing your panties to the side in a desperate attempt to feel you, he couldn’t wait much longer. The action sent you into a frenzy, hands grabbing at his belt as you unbuckled him, pulling his pants and underwear down to his knees, spreading your legs to make room for him between your legs. Your eyes are wide and you inhale a gasp as you see the size of him, it’s thick, about 7 inches and a few shades lighter than his skin tone, he was trimmed and fuck he was perfect.

“Is it okay?” He mutters nervously, anxiety driving his insecurity. You look at him through your lashes and bath your eyes at him as he’s hovering over you.

“It’s fucking perfect baby, you’re so big I dunno if I can take it.” Pedro grunts at your praise, his cock jumping upward.

His fingers slide into you easily, your hole is dripping onto your sheets, the alcohol being a bad influence on your holes need to be fucked. He slowly pumps two fingers inside of you, not bothering to take his time to start of with one, you took him easily with how wet you are, sucking his fingers back in as he curled them upward at the spongey flesh that had your back arched off the bed and eyes clenched shut.

“Fuck Pedro, feels so good.” He leans his head down, humming against your breasts, your hardened nipples are aching with need, wanting some attention paid to them too. He kisses them sloppily, nipping and grazing his teeth as he pulls away, the sensation has you squirming beneath him.

“Need more, please,” you beg impatiently, just wanting his cock to fill your cunt, needing to feel him, all of him.

“It’s okay baby, I’ll take care of you.” His thumb meets your aching clit, relieving some pressure as he swirls it around in delicious small tight circles, the pressure was building by the second, the pleasure was almost too much, the skilful action has you gripping your duvet, legs wrapping around his own as you try to pull him closer, “come on baby, cum on my fingers.” You fell apart at his words, creaming on his fingers that massaged your sweet spot, your legs are shaking and your ears are ringing as a string of moans leave your lips. He continues pumping into you slowly, stringing your climax along as much as he can.

When he takes his fingers out of you, the emptiness makes you whine, he sucks your orgasm off his fingers, the action makes you squirm.

“I don’t have a condom baby.” He says pitifully, the head of his cock sticky in clear precum, the head was angry and red at being hard all night with no friction to help relieve him.

“Don’t care, I’m on the pill n I’m clean, please. Need you so bad.” Your voice wavers, still feeling the effects of your orgasm. He guides his cock to your entrance, watching your eyes for any signs of regret. He slides the head in, it’s thick and his fingers are no prep for the size of him, it burns slightly as he pushes in, you whimper, “fuck, so big.” He lets you adjust before pushing further into you, bottoming out, he lets out a breathy groan at the feel of you.

“Not gonna last with how good you feel.” He admits shamefully, you caress his face and kiss his forearm that’s right by your head, “it’s okay baby, move, please.”

Your hole quickly gets used to the size of him, your chest is heavyifng at how he takes your breath away, you bring your legs up to wrap around his lower back, bringing him closer to you, into you.

“Jesus’s fucking Christ baby,” he mutters, finding a steady pace as he pumps into you, slamming into your puffy walls, your whimpers and moans are getting louder and louder as your second climax builds, “fuck ‘m gonna cum, harder please.” He obliges, fucking into you ruthlessly, wanting you to cum again as he begins to sweat, trying to stop himself from cumming in you before you can reach your high.

“Fuck fuck fuck me, fuck Pedro, that’s it. Cock feels so fucking perfect.” Your legs tremble as you fall apart on his cock, stomach spasms as you come undone again, this orgasm coming down on you harder than the last.

Pedro cums seconds later, “fuck, feel so good baby.” His voice is breathy, deep and husky as he cums, his moans loud as the white ropes of his cum paint your walls, his sperm shooting deep inside your womb.

You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, pulling him down to lie completely flush against your cool, sweaty skin. You both sit in silence as you feel him go soft inside of you. You massage the back of his head, twisting the curls around your pointer finger.

“Did you mean it?” He asks, voice raspy and vulnerable.

“Mean what?” Unsure of what he means, what did you say?

“That you love me.” You feel anxious, a thousand thoughts running through your head per minute.

“Yeah I do.” He relaxed into you more, breathing evens at your words and you feel yourself becoming more at ease.

“Good, cause I want you to be mine."

You kiss the corner of his lips, "would love nothing more than to be yours."

Thank god you went out drinking this evening.

[sadie-the-dragon-slayer]

Self / Independent Learner's Guide to Language Learning From Zero

-a mini study plan I used this for Spanish, French and Italian, it is my favourite way of starting to learn. It won't teach you the langauge but if this is your first time, if you feel confused and don't know where to begin, this is for you! -this is kinda romance langauge based but might give you ideas if you are learning from a different family too -this is very notebook / writing based since i prefer learning that way Step 1: Preperation

First of all, ask yourself "do i already have some amount of immersion in this langauge?" As humans, we learn from immersion a lot. Songs, but especially visual media is incredibly heplful. I never studied japanese but after watching a few animes i picked up 5-10 random words. Passive vocabulary, being familiar to most common words will be your biggest friend. If the answer is no, before start studying ANYTHING do some immersion. e.g. I watched dix pour cent for French and learned arrêt which means stop because characters were shouting to each other all the time.

After making sure you have some immersion or if you already have some, PREPARE YOUR RESOURCES. Make a file in your computer, reblog tumblr posts, save links. Search for pdfs in google. (x language a1 pdf / x langauge a1 grammar book / x language a1 reading) Free PDF's and and useful websites. The more the merrier. Why? Because when you actually start learning you will slowly realise them half of them are not actually useful, too advance, too simple, not in your preffered style etc. You will en up using same handful amount of resources again and again but before that, you have to TRY EVERYTHING. You are unique and so will be your learning process.

Google x language A1 curriculum. (you can try adding "pdf" at the end of sentence as well) It "probably/ hopefully" exists. If you can't find that way, learn which offical exam is necessary (e.g. for French it's DELF/DALF, in english there is IELTS and so many more) If you are lucky, you can find a langauge teaching enstitute's curriculum and you can find in what order they teach things. This was very helpful for me because sometimes you don't know what to study next, or just want to visualise what do you need to learn, it is helpful. I printed one out and paste it to the back cover of my notebook. You won't need this one YET. I'll explain in a second. Keep reading.

Get a notebook. I don't prefer books while learning from zero because it will be filled with vocabulary you don't know. My pereference is no squares no lines empty ass notebook and colorful pens. I'm a person of shitty doodles. I love to draw and visualise things. It really helps my brain. In A1, your knowledge is absouletly zero and your brain is about the explode with realising GREAT MASS of knowledge you need to learn in order to be "fluent" . So keep things away from being "too much" if you want to avoid a burnout.

Set a timer. If you want to avoid burnout, the secret is always quit when you feel like you can go another round happily. Quit when you are dopamine high. If you study too much, next day you'll wake up tired, want to rest etc. and make it harder for you to create a habit. I did this mistake with French by studying 4-5 hours everyday for around 30 days. I completed my challenge, completly quit and then didn't come back for MONTHS.

You will be re-studying A LOT. Language learning is repetition. You will start by studying "the A1 curriculum". But, because this is your first time your focus will be on the vocabulary and general comprehension. You are trying to re-wire your brain, and learn a different way of thinking and living. It's not easy. It will take time. It will be painful at times. But it is 100% worth it.

After you finished studying your curriculum, you'll take a short break and then study the curriculum AGAIN. For a second time. Because you already know the basics, this time you will be able to focus more on the little things you weren't able to comprehend the last time. e.g. articles or whatever little frustaring thing your langauge has. Also focus more on basic prononciation and especially reading aloud. Find a realistic text-to-reader. Copy-paste a text. Listen and repeat.

Get a new Youtube and Instagram account dedicated to langauge study. How many good resources exists and where they are is really depens on which langauge you are learning. For english, youtube is better. For French, instagram is better. You have to see for yourself. If you get a seperate account for your langauge algorith will learn faster and you won't be distracted by other stuff. Short form engaging videos are the best for absolute beginners. Re-watch things and try to repeat them out loud. It's called shadowing and is your future best friend.

If you want to learn how to speak, you first need to how to write. If you can't write sentences without looking at google translate (or reverso) you won't be able to make up sentences in your head. If you want to learn how to write, your first need to learn how to read. You need to start in this order but also don't be perfectionist. Do it even if you do it wrong. They will be fixed eventually and won't stick. Record yourself speaking even if the text you are reading is 90% google translated. Why? Beacuse speaking will enhance your vocabulary in a way no other thing can and that's the core of reading. So this isn't a linear thing. It's actually a circle!

Step Two! Ok, Sadie, i got my notebooks and read through all the warnings where do i start? *First page: [] means written is target langauge

[x notebook] x= your target langauge

Add something cute and make you feel happy to open up the notebook. It can a drawing, a picture, anything. First page is your entrance to your new home. Make it welcoming.

*[My name is X. I am Y years old. I live in Z.] *Greetings. Main articles if there are any. Yes, no, please, thank you. *What is your name, what do you do for living, how are you, where are you from, how old are you, how many langauges do you speak, numbers from 0-100. If there are multiple way of saying these things and probably there are, just write one. You will eventually learn others. Baby steps. *write a basic ass text of two people having a conversation asking and answering these questions.

*the alphabet and how to pronounce the letters. basic letter combinations that change into a different sound. a youtube video about this 100% exists.

*personal pronouns and if there is a "am/is/are" verb the conjugation of it. (in spanish there is two unfortunately) *artciles and basic noun endings. a couple exemples of nouns in x form but takes y article. *first 5 most common verbs. learn the conjugation, try writing basic ass sentences. (e.g. to come, go, have, speak)

*three more verbs (e.g. to eat, can, to want)

*take some time to fully comprehend. check your curriculum list to look and see if you want to add anything. e.g.for spanish that can be ser vs estar, for spanish is can be "how to ask questions in french" becaue it's way harder compared to other langauges.

*take some break from grammar and learn some vocab maybe. it can be colors, or feelings. (i am sad, i am hungry etc.)

*start studying most common verbs. usually a form of categorization exists. usually it's verb ending. (unless it's a language like turkish where every verb either ends with -mek or -mak lol.) Start with 10- 15 most common verbs. You will also be learning some vocabulary by default. (try to stick to regular verbs if you can, if not that's fine) (Do not learn any verbs you won't be able to use immediately.)

*Learn basic adjectives and how they work so you can form more detailed sentences.

*After comprehending how to form basic positive negative sentences and some verbs, congratulate yourself, because you deserve it! *Learn how tell time. "What time is it? It's x'o clock."

*learn clothing and how to simply describe physical look e.g. hair color, eye color, beard, glasses...

*learn the verbs of daily routine. be able to write a generic ass "i wake up, i do breakfast, i eat lunch at school, i sleep" sort of text.

*demonstratives. this that. these. those. you can add some vocabulary you like. this is a cat. this is a tree. you can add placement adjectives now or later. (the cat is under the sofa. the bird is on the table etc.)

*Now you know a lot of things! Take some time and focus a bit more on the vocab, let your brain process things, do some passive immersion. avoid a burnout at all costs. *learn how to say "there is" (if you want more vocab transportation and city centre themes can be included.) *learn how to talk about your hobbies. This is the generic A1 curriuculum. You are able to understand basic things, you have a generic comprehension. That's all it takes to be considered A1. If you want to pass it though, what you need is a good grammar source. For French and Spanish Kwiziq was very useful. I couldn't find a good online grammar resource for Italian yet. (please ask more experienced langblrs for recs.) Slowly learn more vocab (since A1 is more vocab based. If you hate Anki and Quizlet stuff check Linguno. Actually check Linguno anyway it's a banger and i'm gonna die on that hill.)

If you don't have have native friend to ask questiones and you don't have any ethical concerns ChatGPT can be useful. I'm using it for French for months. Why are we using this particle here, why this and not that, can you give me some example sentences.... you can play guess the animal, ask for writing prompts and then make ChatGpt find and explain your mistakes to you. It's very handy.

*Don't be scared to share about your journey on Tumblr and most importantly ENJOY!