#meandering thoughts on other characters:

[lady-lancer]

Rewatching a PLA vid made me think of something.

Some say that Volo is supposed to be the rival of the (early) game, with the way he shows up and asks to battle you at random. It’s also used to explain away his randomly showing up where you are.

I disagree. With the usual rivals, they’re on the gym badge quest so of course you’d run into each other at times - you’re both on the same type of journey.

But Volo has a job - that he is constantly skipping, to be fair. How did he know to show up at the solaceon ruins right when you do? How convenient of him to show up on the path to Iscan’s home, when your on the way to Firespit Island. To be at the Quarry when Ingo is leading you up the mountain. To be at Avalugg’s arena when your there to quell it.

Yes, some of it can be explained as logical steps, but taking out the game scripts? It’s kinda creepy ngl. (

[luveline]

shy!reader and spencer who are in the early days of their relationship and are getting more comfortable with initiating physical affection with each other (especially reader lol) and spencer gets her to open up by playing with her hair / hands, tickling her, cuddling, the like <3

The first time Spencer let his head rest against yours, you were sure you’d die right there and then, half-asleep on the subway, then suddenly away as he’d started talking under his breath, his conversation for you and you alone. You'd flushed full body and forced yourself to stay still, until Spencer had confused your shyness for not wanting his weight against you and pulled away. 

This time you’re ready. This time, he’s working his arm over the top of your shoulders. Not a timid first move on the first date, he’d suffered through that already. Spencer lets his arm slip between your back and the couch as he tugs you toward him, resting his cheek against your temple, two points of skin turning hot as a burner. 

“Okay?” he asks quietly. 

You let yourself relax into it. “I’m fine.” 

“Did you want me to run that bath for you?” 

It’s imperative he doesn’t move. “No, I can do it. I’ll do it later, if that’s okay.” 

It’s Spencer’s bath, but he let you take one the last time you stayed the night, so you’ll work it out. You knew he wasn’t gonna peep on you, knew you were totally safe in his bathroom, but your heart hammered fast as a hummingbird’s whenever the floors creaked —just the idea of being near him when you were unclothed set you aflame. Your skin warms with the memory, a nervousness in your chest and hands that grows uncomfortably warm. 

You don’t move, though. You’re sending him all the wrong messages when you reject him out of timidity, you’re more than aware of it, but the longer he sits there gently holding you, the more the temptation to squirm builds. 

Spencer makes a soft, soft sound as his hand trails up your back, curling around your arm, and meandering a path to your elbow. 

“I got…” —Spencer begins, without any inclination to rush— “…more of that bath soak you liked, the camomile… and honey…”

You love the smell. Sometimes you swear you can smell it in his hair when he presses near you. 

“And a loufa, ‘cos you didn’t have one last time,” he adds. 

“Thank you.” 

“…You’re welcome.” He kisses the side of your head. Then, in a betrayal of his character, he laughs breathlessly, saying, “Sorry, I forgot what I was saying. The loufa– It’s purple. I put it on the towel rack, and I got you a new face towel, too, mine’s too rough for you.” 

“Did you get yourself a new one too?” 

“Yeah.” He taps your cheek, the hand you’d forgotten about drawing a short line to your jaw. “You’re pretty.” 

You drop your chin. 

“You are,” he says. 

“Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.” Spencer’s hand slides down your neck, a caress that turns to a kind hold. “Can I…” He snorts softly. “You’re solid,” he says, squeezing your neck with enough pressure to wind you, which isn’t much. “You don’t have to get all tense.” 

“I’m trying really hard not to get tense,” you admit. 

“I know. I’m trying to help, but I’m just making it worse.” 

Spencer isn’t making it worse. Or, he wasn’t. “I thought you were gonna kiss me, is the thing.” 

“I was. Then you tensed up and I didn’t think I should.” His easy smile goes funny. “Could I have?” 

“Of course you could’ve,” you mumble, pressing your face into his shoulder before he can decimate the last of your self respect. He laughs —giggles, really, in a burst of sound— and tugs you in. “Not funny.”

He can hear the lie. “No, it’s not funny,” he agrees anyways, laying back and then moving forward, swaying you enough to turn the giggle into a full blown laugh. 

He murmurs something. You mumble back. His fingertips slip over the dip in your back and he’s saying something nice, if a little shy. It’s been nice getting closer to him, seeing the real Spencer, someone who’s hesitant but gentle beyond words. There’s no reason for him to be touching you like this, to talk sweet nothings behind your ear as he lugs you onto his chest, and maybe there’s no reason for you to melt. Butter in the sun, drifting bonelessly into his lap. 

“You smell like tea,” you say quietly. “I love it.” 

“You love it?” he asks, something oddly awed about him as he shifts your head back to look you in the eyes. 

“Mm. It’s nice. And your eyes are so brown… they’re my favourite thing about you.” 

Spencer teases the stripe of skin exposed by your rising t-shirt until you’re shivering again. “Thank you,” he says, letting one close in a wink as he taps your nose with his. “Am I allowed to say what I like about you, or–” You shake your head so violently he immediately stops. “Fine. But only because I want to sit like this for the rest of the night with you.” 

“I still need a shower.” 

“Later,” he says, his lips resting on your chin. “Way, way later, please.” 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Not a Word 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, violence, parental abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live a life in hiding, away from your father and the world, until a man decides to drag you into the light. (non-verbal reader)

Characters: Captain Syverson

Note:😻.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The smell of the roast fills the house as you focus on small tasks, things that aren’t urgent but keep you busy. Sy’s footfalls creak in the floorboard as he looms in the front room. You’re thankful to have him away from you for the time being. You’re confused and concerned about his unannounced arrival. 

You’re not sure what he means. Blessing. You look at the flowers. You’re not stupid. That’s a clear gesture and yet why would he do that for you? Why would he have an interest in you? 

The bigger question, one you can’t answer, how do you feel? Sy is nice enough but he’s scary all the same. Big and boisterous. He’s never done anything to you but you don’t really know him, do you? He doesn’t really know you. Well, this must be his way of getting to know you. 

It’s all a mystery to you. Relationships and all. Even familial one. You know from the movies that what you have with your dad isn’t normal. You can feel that he only really resents you. 

“Smells good,” Sy startles you. 

You peek over your shoulder and close the fridge. You go to the sink to rinse the cloth of the crumbs you wiped off the shelves. You wring it out and hang it to dry over the edge of dish rack. 

“Daddy’s late,” he clucks. “Ain’t he?” 

You look at the clock then him and shrug. He circles the table, pacing as his thick fingers twiddle. As he prowls, you’re reminded of a coyote. They always get into the shed in the hotter months, tearing at the rubbish stored there before truck day. 

“Anything I can help with, sugar? I don’t wanna be in your way,” he offers. 

You shake your head. You turn to the stove and open it slightly to check the roast. Still a bit to go. The potatoes need some softening. You shut it as the floor groans. You peek back and catch only Sy’s back as he disappears down the hall. He must need the bathroom. 

You continue your meandering cleaning. It’s not really messy at all but the place is old and everything’s a bit worn out, including you. As you adjust a canister in the spice rack, a noise catches your ear. Something familiar. 

You tiptoe to the hall and peer down it. You frown. Your bedroom is open. You go down and peek inside. Sy stands facing the wall, staring at the diamond art you did of finches in a nest. It’s one of your favourites so you hung it. 

He leans in as you tap on the door frame. He flinches and looks at you. He gives a sheepish expression and runs his hand over his beard. 

“Sorry, wasn’t meanin’ to intrude but the door was open so I... I was just lookin’ at this. You made it?” 

You nod. How can you tell him to get out? You have no way of making him. The door doesn’t always catch, he might not be lying. 

“Real pretty,” he praises and approaches you, “like you.” 

You blink and back up. You point back down the hall. You scurry away before he reaches you. You enter the kitchen and pull out a small saucepan. You’ll need it to make the gravy even if you won’t have the drippings to do so for some time. 

The puffing putter of your father’s truck underlines the tension as Sy lurks in behind you. You stay facing the stove, stilling your hands as you keep them on the hot edge of the stove. The warmth is just short of unbearable. 

Sy exhales and you brace yourself. Your heart beats furiously in anticipation. What will your dad think? How will he react? Usually, the large man cozens him with beer but today he’s only brought flowers. You can’t help but think of those floral curtains your dad tore down because they were too girly. 

Your dad clamours loudly up the steps. The door opens and snaps shut behind his stomping. He keeps his boots on as he enters the kitchen and scuffs short. 

Sy clears his throat, “hey, Don, how’s it goin’?” 

“Mmph, what’re ya doin’ here?” Your dad grumbles. You watch over your shoulder as he brushes past the large man and slams his lunch pail on the table. “Damn shit show down at the shop.” 

“Every day, isn’t it?” Sy chuckles. 

“Why’re you dressed like a funeral?” Your dad sniffs as he goes to the fridge. He snorts as he takes out the last beer. “Runnin’ low on Miller, too.” 

You wince and turn back to the stove. You do your best not to draw any attention. The awkwardness is as stolid as the heat radiating from the metal. 

“Well, ya know, I was comin’ to ask ya something important,” Sy explains. “About your daughter.” 

Your dad cracks the can open and slurps, nearly choking at the end, “her? What’d’ya want with that deaf rat?” 

Sy inhales audibly, “now, that ain’t no way to talk about a lady, is it?” 

“Lady?” Your dad chortles, “sure, Syverson, whatever you wanna call the appliance.” 

“I’m gonna say it one more time, you don’t talk about a lady that way,” Sy warns, the nervousness fading from his tone. “I came to ask for your blessing as I do have intentions with her. I’d like to... to build something with her. I’m a good man, Don, I think--” 

“Fucking shit,” your dad guffaws. “You ain’t serious? Her?” 

“She’s a nice lady. She keeps a good house, don’t she?” 

“She’s no use to you,” he retorts. “Got no more personality than a lamp. She can turn the stove on and wipe a dish clean but nothing else goin’ on there.” 

The oven buzzes and you quickly silence the timer. You take the oven mitts as the men behind you shift. You step back to open the door and carefully balance the roast pan as you bring it up onto the burners. Your dad makes another throaty noise. 

“Sure smells like a good dinner,” Sy says. “How about we enjoy it together--” 

“You’re fucking laughin’.” Your dad accuses. “Makin’ a joke of me ‘cause I’m stuck with the moron.” 

“Don,” Sy grits. 

“Nah, she’s a doornail, I know it. I don’t need ya pullin’ my leg about it.” 

“I’m not,” Sy insists. 

“Look at her. Like a goddamn robot. All she know how to do is cook and clean. Empty inside, ya know? It’s why she don’t talk. Nothin’ goin’ on, nothin’ to say.” 

“That ain’t true, and ya know it. You got no right mistreating your own daughter. I don’t like it.” 

“She’s my daughter, so why don’t ya take that ugly tie and get outta my house?” Your father snarls. 

“I came here honestly, Don. I’m not here to argue. I asked ya a question--” 

“No, you ain’t got my blessing. I told ya, she’s a fucking invalid--” 

“Don’t--” 

“You big lumphead, why don’t you ask her and see what she says?” Your dad interrupts. “Huh, see what you hear...” he pauses and you don’t move. You’re terrified. “See? She’s wacky--” 

“Don, you have some respect for her--” 

“Don’t tell me how to treat my own kin.” 

“Well, I’m tellin’ ya,” Sy sneers as his shadow moves. 

“You threatening me right now, boy?” Your dad puffs. 

“Only if you’re not gonna show her some decency--” 

“Get out of my house. You’re just as screwy as her. Two of ya together, fucked--” 

“Stop.” 

“Well, it’s true. Fucking mad for even thinkin’ of it--” 

“You don’t treat her right--” 

“And what would ya do with her? Big fucking ox like you. I seen the way you handle an engine. You’d break her.” 

“I didn’t call you any names, you don’t needa be rude.” 

“Rude? Aw, baby boy--” 

“I been nice, Don--” 

“Boo fucking h--” 

The crack of bone on bone makes you flinch. Then the loud crash and clatter draws you around. Your head is thrumming as your father’s body sprawls across the floor, the table scraping away from him. You only see his feet poking out from the other side.  

Sy stands over him, squared up, fists clenched, panting heavily. He’s a terrifying sight as he glares down at your father. You clasp your hands over your chest and sway. He doesn’t move. 

Slowly, you come around to look at your dad. He’s unconscious. His head lolls to one side as trickle of blood appears at the corner of his mouth. He’s not moving. You stare at his chest in search of his breath. One hit... no, that couldn’t be. 

The flowers lay across the floor, the canister overturned as water pools on the tile.  

“Told him not to insult ya,” Sy growls. 

Your eyes round and lower yourself to look over your dad. He can’t be gone. That doesn’t make any sense. There’s no way one punch could kill him. Is there? 

“Don’t touch him, sugar,” Sy commands as he bends to catch your wrist before you can check for a pulse. “I’ll take care of it.” 

You look at him and your mouth falls open. What does he mean? You fidget in his grasp and shake your other hand. What do you mean? 

“I didn’t mean to...” he drags you up and away from your dad.  

You let him, quaking and afraid. If he can do that to your dad, what could he do to you? He puts you by the stove. 

He turns and strides around the table. He doesn’t hesitate as he lifts up your dad and carries out his limp body. You watch after him until you hear the garage door. What is he doing? 

You cling to the stove and listen. You hear metals and scraping, the grind of the rusted old hood opening in that old broken Bronco truck. A cantankerous cacophony. Then a deafening crash. 

The garage door opens and Sy’s footsteps come down the hall. He walks in calmly and pulls the table back into place. He fixes the chair and gathers up the stems, putting them all back into the canister. He hands the bunch to you. 

“Needs more water.” He says plainly. “I’ll get the mop.” You stare at him as you hold the canister in your hands.  

He backs away and leaves you without another word. You look at the flower then fill the canister again. You put it back on the table as he comes back. He hands you the mop. 

“You mind? I gotta call the medics for your daddy,” he drawls. “You know, I told him not to yank that chain. Whole engine just came down on him...” 

Your lashes flutter in confusion. You take the mop and he steps away. He takes out his cell phone and pauses, inhaling deeply. You sop up the water cautiously. 

He dials out and lifts the phone to his ear. You take the mop to wring out in the tub. You go down the hall and peek through the open garage door. You stop short as you come upon the scene. 

Your dad is bent under the open hood, his shoulders contorted grossly. The hoist is overturned, the chains twisted as the engine sandwiches your dad’s head beneath it. A tragic scene of carelessness. Staged perfectly. 

Your stomach churns as Sy’s voice drowns under the tempo of your fear. You grip the mop and twitch as your insides spasm. You think you’re going to be sick. 

Dead. He's dead. Sy killed him. It was an accident. He said so. He didn't mean to, right? He couldn't have meant to. They were friends. He always came over with beer. For your dad, not you.

“Aw, honey, don’t look at all that,” Sy comes down the hall towards you and you shy away.  

You bring the mop close to you and stumble away from him. You hold it up then quickly flee. You scurry down the bathroom as the garage door clicks shut. Sy tuts as he lingers. 

“Gotta wait for the cops to show,” he calls after you. “They on their way.” 

[anonymousewrites]

A Not-So-Disastrous Romance (Book 2) Prologue

Saiki Kusuo x Reader

Prologue: Relationship

Summary: Saiki reintroduces us to the cast.

Quick Key:

“Hello” -Saiki speaking telepathically

Hello -Saiki thinking

“Hello” -regular people speaking out loud, Saiki speaking with telepathy

Hello -regular people thinking

Mouse Note: We're back! Just a cute reintroduction to characters and our beloved pair, but we are back. Updates will be Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays unless I fall behind or have to take a break, which is unlikely. And without further ado, welcome back to A Not-So-Disastrous Romance! It's such a fun story, and we've got a ton of fun moments going on this book. Please comment your thoughts, it helps me continue to write, and I love hearing your thoughts! 

            Saiki sighed in irritation as every single one of his bothers at school (aka “friends”) were reintroduced (even if only a week had passed since his birthday party). He really didn’t need the crowd. He could have made it extremely quick. For example:

            Himself, Kusuo Saiki: psychic who has uncontrollably powerful abilities, loves coffee jelly

            His mother: kind and considerate, loves her husband

            His father: the annoying parent, loves his wife

            Nendou: idiot, his mind can’t be read

            Kaidou: believes/pretends he’s some anime protagonist, stupid

            Kuboyasu: former delinquent

            Toritsuka: pervert, medium, a nuisance

            Hairo: way too intense

            Yumehara: wants more screentime, has a crush on Kaidou (bad judgement)

            Teruhashi: prettiest girl alive according to most people, has a crush on Saiki (not good)

            Mera: hungry

            Saiko: rich

            That was all the annoying people in his life that people had to meet.

            “Hey, Kusuo!”

            Now for someone Saiki was fond of. Really, more than fond of. Saiki turned in his seat to face the final person entering the classroom. They were a pure ray of sunshine with a smile to match, and Saiki found himself far more willing to put up with his bothers so long as they were there.

            (Y/N): Saiki’s significant other, his favorite person, angel, amazing cook/confectioner, wears germanium earrings that mean he can’t hear their thoughts, ray of sunshine, the only person Saiki is ever excited to be around, protects Saiki from bugs and bothers, etc. (Saiki could go on for a while)

            “Hello, (Y/N),” said Saiki.

            Thankfully, as he turned to address (Y/N), the rest of the Saiki K cast meandered away, having gotten their time in the spotlight.

            “So, have you recovered from your party?” asked (Y/N). They grinned and laughed. “I know crowds aren’t your thing.”

            “It wasn’t as terrible as it could have been,” said Saiki. You were there. And that was the day they had admitted they liked one another and decided to start dating.

            (Y/N) just smiled at Saiki. They didn’t need him to say that he was glad they had been present; they could read him well enough. He was their boyfriend, after all. (Saiki was their boyfriend. Boyfriend! (Y/N) still couldn’t believe it and was positively giddy)

            “Well, it’s not like you’ll have to deal with another party for a while,” said (Y/N). “And I’ll keep your actual birthday more low-key.”

            Saiki deadpanned. He doubted that. He never had luck with these things; he knew he’d end up with a giant party where all his bothers (friends) followed him.

            “I’ll make sure you get coffee jelly, at least,” said (Y/N).

            Saiki perked up again. He could always count on (Y/N) to think of something for him.

            (Y/N) chuckled at his instant reaction. He was a total sucker for sweets, and they knew it.

            Saiki looked at them as they laughed, and his heart softened. He really didn’t deserve them.

            “I’m going to Café Mami after school,” said Saiki. “They have a promotion.”

            “For coffee jelly?” said (Y/N). Saiki nodded. “I’ll go with you.” Saiki mentioning it was his way of asking them to go.

            And, hey, (Y/N) wasn’t going to say no to a date with their boyfriend.

            I still can’t believe it.

l

            Saiki and (Y/N) both let out a pleased hum as they took a bit of their coffee jellies. Café Mami was delicious as always, and since they already went their together before they were dating, it wasn’t strange for them to still be seen together, just the two of them.

            Together, Saiki and (Y/N) had decided to keep their relationship lowkey. First, none of their friends were…calm, for lack of a better word (others would include: discreet, normal, not-embarrassing). Second, some of the people they knew would make some problems (see Teruhashi and her crush on Saiki while being friends with (Y/N)). Third, Saiki and (Y/N) didn’t really care about people knowing their business. It didn’t feel necessary.

            So, for now, they weren’t going around announcing to people that they were dating. But that was alright. Saiki and (Y/N) had each other. That was all they needed.

Taglist:

@elaemae

@painstakingly-juno

@characterreaderwriter

@melovepurple

@sleep-7372

@w0mank1sser

@geminigengar

@noodleryworld

@leonardo-dabitchy

@janezee12751275

@xenop0p

@ex160-blog1

@boogiemansbitch

@dmitrytherat

@yuriisclumsy

@sixxze

@constellationguy

@k03ume

@sweatyinternettrash

@paastaboi

@unorthodox-gob

@girlswhopanic

@h-i-g-h-w-a-y-t-o-h-e-l-l-l

@drowningfishy

@rinwho

@izzieg3987

@candylp

@jmclouds

@ittomain1

@justamina-blog

@newtscreatures347269

@digital-dumbass

@chronovala

@yappydoo

@mymomsdisappointment

@lvvcian

@kyliexreads

@b3bybunny

@sle3pyh3ad2

@snowy-violet

@jaguarthecat

[fairlyabookie]

Their Heart to You

Author's note: How they confess

Content: fluff

Leona finds courting a tedious process; he grew up watching his older brother courting a partner, getting married, and eventually, have a kid, whom he considered a handful. He had seen what love can bring first hand and often was asked about his love life by his brother. 

Most of the time, he hated these nosy questions, shouldering them off with a vague statement so they won’t be asked again. Leona told himself not to have his judgment be clouded by love - he had to make sure he had a clear and sound mind, enough to make adequate decisions and see to it that things get done. He casts his worries and other frivolous things to the side, focusing on nothing but himself and his academics for the time being. 

Admittedly, he didn’t think of you as a distraction per se; rather, he considered you as an equal, your strengths and weaknesses comprising your overall character. Sure, he entertained the thought of courting you, his thoughts meandering to your silhouette, your hubris around him, the poise you carried yourself; no doubt Leona found you entertaining. 

Love, a fickle thing, embodied itself in his time with you, listening to your words as you spoke to him with determined eyes; his honesty abundant, he was more than willing to give - though, executing his ‘love’ would be difficult. Matter of fact, he was clueless. 

As for courting you, he preferred to keep such sentiments and wait for the opportune moment to speak his peace. A watchful predator eyeing his prey, he waits until you’re by yourself to tell you, his charm, his authenticity. 

The Leech twin had a couple tricks up his sleeve when it came to wooing you: he won’t say that these notions would charm you, but rather, appeal to you on his interests and hopefully, have you show your interests to him as well. He greatly valued his friendship with you, often looking forward to seeing you as the day’s passing and wanting to speak to you on occasion.

He’d be subtle in his affections; often engaging in unprofessional behavior, as quoted from Azul and his own twin brother, to see you satisfied. Of course, he had to pull some strings to ensure you had a positive experience with him, after all, you’re the one toying with his heart. 

 To quote Azul, Jade would be a handful, as love captivated him like a spell. At times, the Dorm Leader would begrudgingly let Jade take the task so he can see you. Even at the sight of you, Azul knew not to impede Jade’s advances. In other words, Azul and Floyd would play Jade’s wingmen, regardless if they like it or not. 

Jade had his own ways of wooing, unorthodox methods an average one would say, where he’d plan on potential dates with just you and him and with no interruptions. He’d keep his cool, knowing very well that he can achieve his goal in conveying his feelings outright.  

If one can be honest, Jade had realized his feelings for a while; he yearned, he needed, he wanted to have your heart. Such feelings, he hoped, can come across you once the timing was right. He hated how heavy his heart weighed with such sentiments, yet alas, he hoped he played his cards well for this moment.

They say that the best way to steal one’s heart is through their stomach, and Trey took that personally. He knew everyone’s tastes, including yours. On that note, he’d make sure to bake your favorites when you had a bad day or when you had a craving. 

 The third year regarded you as a friend at first, but he found himself thinking about you when it came to baking, pouring his heart into this piece, gentle hands carving a delicacy that he and you can enjoy in private. 

Trey may not be good with his words, but he can think of something sweeter, something you’d like from his expertise. Sure, writing down his feelings would work, but he’d stick with his skills: baking. 

He’d spend hours doing trial and error with recipes, pouring in particular ingredients to see what would be the perfect taste for your pastry, careful not to ruin the surprise when he’d present this cake to you. His feelings towards you, initially a nuisance, came forth as a blessing as he spent more time working on this pastry and spending time with you. 

Love, as corny as it can be, seemingly made his works a tad bit sweeter. He can fathom the taste, a delicious warmth that enveloped him like a hug. Did he manage to achieve the perfect cake? He thinks to himself, satisfaction tugging at the corner of his lips. Trey couldn’t wait to have you taste it.

[innerfare]

Luffy Fluff // Angst Compilation 

Summary: A compilation of Luffy angst and fluff from my multi character posts (You're Wounded, Brushing Your Teeth Together, Flowers, Type of Date, You See His Cabin, Fighting and Making Up, Paradise, Nightmares, I Love You, You're Jealous, Wearing His Hat).

Genre: Fluff // Angst

CW: None // SFW

———

You’re Wounded: 

Makes a light joke, inspects the wound himself even if there’s a doctor present, will help bandage you up if you need it. Pretends to be nonchalant about the entire thing, is panicking inside. Fully realizes the depths of his affection for you, is terrified to realize it’s love.  

Brushing Your Teeth Together: 

Turns it into a competition. “First one done wins!” “Luffy, no!” Also gets toothpaste absolutely everywhere. If he was in the habit of wearing shirts, all of his would have toothpaste (and food) stains on them. 

Flowers: 

Not one to buy you flowers. Instead, he picks them. Sometimes they’re weeds he thought looked pretty, other times, he presents you with a lush bundle of pink carnations you think he must have picked from a commercial flower field (this man has no concept of private property). He’s always very proud to present them because he worked hard to secure them; you'd better give him a kiss for his effort. Has, on occasion, accidentally brought you some that are poisonous. Also once brought you a bundle of radishes because he thought you would like the color. Receiving flowers from Luffy can be a bit like receiving a lizard from your pet cat. 

Type of Date: 

Everyone thinks he’d want to take you to dinner, probably to an all you can eat buffet, but this boy would actually drag you to an amusement/theme park. You’ll go on all the rides, riding the scariest ones multiple times over, and by the end of the day, you’ll have a stack of photos taken just before the roller coaster dropped. He’ll probably want to grab a bite to eat afterward, as if he didn’t already sample everything the amusement park had to offer; definitely something casual, like a burger or bbq joint. 

You See His Cabin For The First Time: 

He's literally so proud of just his hammock. Insists it can hold the both of you and could probably hold the entire crew if you tried, asks if you want to try, asks you if you’re sure when you say no. Definitely has a couple of dirty dishes that he’s forgotten about, as well as a few wrappers on the floor. Has some fishing poles, a net, quite a few different games, and a bookshelf that’s full of both comic books and snacks so that he doesn’t have to go all the way to the kitchen if he gets hungry in the middle of the night. 

Fighting and Making Up: 

You fight about his recklessness. You knew who he was when you fell in love with him and you don’t want to change him, but sometimes, it gets to be too much and you lose your cool. One perk of dating Luffy, though, is that he has very high emotional intelligence, so if it’s one of those fights where you just need your space, he’ll give it to you, waiting patiently for you to approach him to make amends (although it does weigh on him quite a bit when the two of you are at odds, like he’s waiting for the hammer to drop on your relationship; he has such an intense fear of you leaving him it’s unreal. He also struggles with the separation because he’s so clingy). He doesn’t really talk through the fight and do the whole apology thing, just pounces on you and kisses all over your face as soon as he can sense you’re good and ready to receive his affection again. If it was a really bad one, he might pick some flowers to give you. 

Paradise 1: 

Meandering through the woods in search of the tallest, most impressive tree, him giving you a boost up to the first branch to get you started before climbing up himself, staying behind you the entire time so he can catch you in case you fall. Finally piercing the canopy and poking your heads up above the forest, his hand on your leg to keep you steady, the two of you grinning as birds fly by, basking in the afternoon sun. 

Paradise 2: 

Escaping the chaos of life and climbing a desolate hill, sharing a late afternoon snack as you stare up at the clouds and point out different shapes, saying, “that’s you,” when you see a funny one. Arguing over which one of you gets to be the dragon cloud, your argument turning into roughhousing and the two of you accidentally rolling down the hill, him laughing and kissing your cheek when he knows you’re okay and then starting the argument again. 

Nightmares: 

He grins at the sight of you standing on a cliffside looking out over the water, tranquil in the peace of night. He hurries toward you and puts his hand on your shoulder to turn you around, ready to place a happy kiss on your lips, only to stop short at the sight of your face. You’re completely devoid of joy, the life and will to live sucked out of you by a force he can’t control. You’re a husk, and he’s powerless against it. He realizes the darkness isn’t from night, that there are no stars glimmering in the sky, that the world has had the goodness sucked out of it, yours along with it, leaving you empty. He wakes up with tears in his eyes and buries his face in his pillow to muffle his sob. 

Wearing His Hat: 

Luffy is very protective of his hat. It’s his most prized possession, given to him by his beloved father figure. He’d fight the bloodiest war in human history to get that hat back should someone steal it from him. It’s for that reason he’s shocked by his own reaction when you get a little tipsy one night and pluck it off his head, placing it atop yours. 

“Call me Captain,” you tell the crew, going member by member and giving them orders, getting onto Zoro’s case for not saluting like Usopp and Chopper did. 

He doesn’t feel the urge to snatch it back, doesn’t feel even a touch of anxiety that you could misplace or damage it. Rather, he feels a sense of pride- everyone knows him by his straw hat, so if you’re wearing it, everyone knows you’re his. And it’s in that moment he realizes that you’re his- not his belonging, but his person. You’re the one he wants to walk through this life beside, the person who chose to wear his hat. 

I Love You: 

He showed it first, asking you to join his crew, making sure you had a safe and healthy place to be yourself, fighting anyone who stands between you and your dreams, saving his funniest jokes until you're around to hear and giggle at them, even going so far as to share a little (really, only a little) bit of his meal with you, but you were the only who actually said it first. He gets severely injured after a nasty fight, and you stay by his side while he sleeps it off like he normally does, though it takes him longer than usual to wake up. When he does finally wake up looking for you and something to eat, you fling yourself on him and tell him how much you love him. You didn’t intend on confessing, but you were so worried about him and the words fell from your lips as soon as you knew he was okay. Your brows are still furrowed, and when Luffy asks why, you voice your insecurity that he doesn't feel the same way. Luffy just laughs at that and ruffles your hair. “Of course I do.” With that, he crawls out of bed in search of food. He quickly falls into the habit of telling you in the morning when you wake up, and it fills you with so much joy, it’s like he’s giving you a happy vitamin to start your day. And saying those words bring him so much joy that saying them is like he's taking a happy vitamin, too. 

You’re Jealous: 

He never told you Boa Hancock was in love with him, and when you find out, you have to remove yourself from the situation before you have an emotional outburst and start something with the Pirate Empress. The problem is, you don’t even know which emotion will spill out of you. Finding out the world’s most beautiful woman, and a powerful Warlord, no less, is desperate to marry Luffy is a whirlwind, to say the least. Luffy can seem clueless at times, but his emotional intelligence is through the roof, and he picks up on what has you upset almost straight away. He knows to give you some space, and when he senses you’re ready, he approaches you with a handful of wildflowers he picked. He doesn’t really say much, just pulls you into a hug, presses a few kisses into your cheek and temple, and says in your ear, “you’re my girl.” 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Dialogue

A Guide to Writing Better Dialogue

Consider the following criteria:

The dialogue must move the story forward. After each conversation or exchange, the reader should be one step closer to either the climax or the conclusion.

Reveal relevant information about the character. The right dialogue will give the reader insight into how the character feels, and what motivates them to act.

It must help the reader understand the relationship between the characters.

Tips for Better Dialogue

12 tips to writing forward-focused dialogue:

Keep it brief

Dialogue shouldn’t go over for pages and pages. The best dialogue is brief.

You don’t need to go into lengthy exchanges to reveal an important truth about the characters, their motivations, and how they view the world.

Pair the dialogue down to the minimum that you need for the characters to say to each other.

Avoid small talk

In the real world, small talk fills in the awkward silence, but in the world of your novel, the only dialogue to include is the kind that reveals something necessary about the character and/or plot.

How’s the weather? doesn’t move the plot.

If you’d like to show that your character doesn’t like awkward pauses, work on characterization and scene description.

Instead of using mind-numbingly long exchanges, show the character’s discomfort by describing how she taps her fingers against the window pane, or takes a series of sharp sighs.

Small talk can water down the effectiveness of your scene.

Instead, pick exchanges that capture the essence of the moment, and bypass small talk altogether. Let that be an understood nod between you and the reader, and dive right into the action.

Don’t info dump

While you can certainly use dialogue to learn more about your characters, you shouldn’t use it to dump a whole lot of information on the reader.

If you must info dump, don’t do it in dialogue.

It may slow dialogue to a grinding halt. It may sound awkward.

What’s the difference between info dumping and revealing relevant information?

Info dump is a large amount of exposition given all at once, and left for the reader to sort out.

Relevant information is more subtle, and it’s dispensed a little at a time.

Give your characters a unique way of speaking

Every character, just like every person you know, will have a unique way of speaking and delivering their thoughts.

Some people are more forceful and deliberate.

Others are more passive and meandering.

You can honor these (and other) different styles without rambling.

One method is to focus on word choice.

Example: To show that someone is rather gruff or abrupt, go towards single syllable or somewhat quick words, like “yeah.”

Same basic concept but different delivery, based on character.

Of course, word choice alone can’t dictate character.

You’ll do most of this through characterization, but word choice should subtly support and reinforce characterization.

Also establish a pattern of speech:

Does the character speak in a sharp staccato, or a deliberate, flowy manner?

By knowing how the character (especially the protagonist) speaks, you can create consistency whenever the character dialogues with others.

Be consistent

Remember to be consistent with your characters.

Someone who speaks in a self-depreciating and shy demeanor won’t automatically become bold and acerbic.

When your characters speak, they should stay true to who they are.

Even without character tags, the reader should be able to figure out who’s talking.

Create suspense

Use dialogue to increase the suspense between characters.

It’s human nature for people to withhold what they’re truly thinking or feeling.

People leave a lot unsaid, and this is also true for the characters in your novel.

To create a realistic interaction between your characters, you must honor the fact that most people leave a lot of things unsaid.

But that doesn’t mean that the reader can’t be privy to what’s being left unsaid.

As a writer, you can build the scene, show the characters’ motivations and desires before the scene, and let it play out, with the reader wanting a resolution that doesn’t quite happen.

Answer the following questions to setup your scene for suspense:

Does one character have the upper hand in the scene?

Is the other character seething just under the surface?

What does the reader find out through the exchange?

You can control all of this through dialogue.

Honor the relationship

Characters tend to speak differently based on who they’re speaking to.

A character will speak to his mother differently than he does to his best friend. That’s not a shift in consistency.

It actually gives more depth and realness to the character. You can still stay true to the personality you’ve created by using the same speech pattern.

Show, don’t tell

“Show, don’t tell” is the writer’s mantra.

When writing dialogue, it’s easy to start “telling” what the characters are feeling instead of showing it.

Instead of your character saying, “I’m angry!” describe how the character’s body is closed--tight lips, narrow eyes, deep breaths.

Don’t underestimate your reader.

The reader likes to see the scene, pick up the cues and come to the conclusion, instead of being told what to think. Your dialogue shouldn’t be completely on the nose, and explain exactly what the character is feeling.

Most people -- including your characters -- aren’t always aware of how they feel.

And sometimes, what they say they feel is different from what they truly feel.

Use dialogue to reveal characters, but not directly.

Body language is also an important part of dialogue, and should be written into every scene. It gives the reader important clues that they’ll use to recreate the scene in their mind.

Minimize identifying tags

“He said, she said” gets boring after a while.

And the answer isn’t to switch out those “said” tags with other words like “enthused” or “shouted”. (When it doubt, “said” wins out.)

Not only is it boring for the reader to constantly see “he said” or “said she”, it may be disruptive.

Identifiers take the reader out of the immersive world of your story and reminds them that you, the author, are relaying a story.

That can be pretty jarring, and it can happen if you use identifiers too often.

Of course, you can’t not use identifiers.

They’re vital for establishing who’s speaking, but can be minimized by doing the following:

Creating a unique pattern of speech.

Using descriptive follow ups. (e.g., “That’s not what I said.” Vincent reached for the rock.)

The second option can show what the characters are doing to further emphasize their words, or add context to the scene.

Greetings and goodbyes aren’t always necessary

While it’s only polite to say hello and bid adieu, it’s not necessary in novel dialogue to document these courtesies.

You can use exposition for salutations, but do avoid writing a blow-by-blow.

Set up the scene by describing how the character enters or leaves the scene.

Avoid speeches and soliloquies

Most people, in conversation form, do not have the privilege of extended speech.

They’re almost always interrupted because who wants to listen to someone natter on and on?

Read it aloud

During the editing process, you should always read your manuscript aloud, but do pay special attention to your dialogue.

If the dialogue doesn’t seem to flow, or you’re tripping over your words, it’s not going to sound right to the reader.

Even though you’re not capturing every part of a conversation in your dialogue, everything that’s written should sound like an actual person said it. If not, it’s time to erase and try again.

Source Writing References: Worldbuilding ⚜ Plot ⚜ Character More: Formatting Dialogue ⚜ Children's Dialogue ⚜ Dialogue Prompts

[etirabys]

meandering post about reading Orson Scott Card again

I've been offline starting at 9pm every day (except once. I was drunk at karaoke and asked for anons at 8:30pm) for six weeks, with the result that in befuddled boredom two nights ago I picked up Orson Scott Card's Songmaster from the house bookshelf.

I read Ender's Game and three sequels when I was a teen thought the books were mid. Since those are OSC's best works I assumed he had nothing more interesting to offer me and didn't try more of him for fifteen years, but Songmaster was compelling enough that I immediately afterwards picked up The Memory of Earth, the first book of a pentalogy.

TMoE is extremely my jam: after humanity blows itself up on Earth, AIs monitor thriving human civilizations in the planets that survivors managed to escape to, and suppress any tech that enables large scale violence by exerting low key mind control via satellites. But forty million years pass, many of the satellites break down, and the AI needs help from humans to restore capabilities. Because as its control wanes, people are starting to e.g. conceive of airplanes or bombs again, and override the injunctions against entering military alliances more than two edges of connection away.

The AI is worshipped as a god all over the planet, but the fourteen year old protagonist that becomes one of the AI's agents tells the AI from the beginning that he'll break with it if its morality seems wrong to him. I like the fourteen year old – unlike Ender or Songmaster's protagonist (adult minds piloting ten year old bodies), he's a normal gifted kid who's unpopular 50% due to his ego and big mouth and 50% because he's socially inept and offends people even when he's trying to be nice.

Songmaster is also partly about a permanent solution to large-scale violence, albeit through one guy who establishes a monopoly on violence and sweeps in pax galactica. Both it and TMoE are preoccupied with the eradication of suffering from evil / human violence, which is closer to my resonant frequency than narratives about defeating particular people or ideologies. At the moment I can't think of any other book with such an insistent focus on the matter than T.H. White's The Once and Future King. It's hard to make a compelling story out of, and I don't think Songmaster really succeeds, but TMoE's premise is well suited to explore that. (I'm also enjoying the matriarchal culture where everyone is expected to have multiple serial-monogamous marriages.) After reading 70% of TMoE last night I wrote:

Usually when I read fiction there's a small part of me going, how can I use this as fodder for my own growth, how can I remix or improve or react against this, how do the author and I measure against each other? (If the quality and content are at an anti-sweet spot, the small part becomes quite large and I feel all teeth towards the author.) But on occasion I read something so close that the absence of that measuring-feeling is its own sensation – ego departs, or at least is split across two bodies. There's just amity and recognition

And it's pretty interesting to feel this way about Card for, well, the reasons.

(If you're familiar with Card drama none of the following will be new to you; I'm coming to it fresh so the rest of this post is me going "uh... wow")

I vaguely knew he was a homophobic Mormon who'd gotten into fights about gay stuff, but I couldn't tell from the Ender books I read. But in Songmaster his issues spring off the page in such a weird way. Every fifth Goodreads review of this book is "Card, u gay?" because, well,

(One review, possibly from a fellow Mormon, that went "Card, it's so sinful of you to be this gay in your novel". Why did he write this book that would predictably make everyone mad...)

it's full of gay male desire. The protagonist (Ansset) is approximately a castrato and characters notice him sexually a lot. The first and only time Ansset has sex it's with a Kinsey 4-5 male character he loves, who's married to a woman but has fallen in love with Ansset. It turns out the drugs Ansset took to prolong his singing career painfully and only-kinda-figuratively explode your balls when you have your first orgasm and you'll never feel sexual desire again. (You'd think his loving teachers would have warned him of that, but, whatever, they didn't.) The other guy is literally castrated in punishment for inadvertently torturing a highly valuable castrato. It's pretty bald: GAY SEX IS ALMOST IRRESISTIBLY TEMPTING BUT YOU SHOULDN'T DO IT.

(Sidenote: both Ansset and the guy's wife are very close and have a "there's enough love to go around" attitude about the gay sex initially, before they go "wait Josif is a SERIAL MONOGAMIST... he can only love one person at a time... the moment he had the gay sex his marriage was destroyed". It's funny in a mildly stupid way that Card would set up this parable of homosexuality destroying lives and a marriage but almost everyone involved is peacefully ready to sail into an open marriage. I guess it makes sense if you want to say very clearly that THE GAY PART IS THE BAD PART)

which is fascinating to me, because... why would you tell on yourself like that

(81k also told me secondhand of an essay? interview? where Card openly says "we have to stand against legalizing gay marriage because everyone will get gay married and society will collapse", so that's informing my read of Songmaster as well)

I am pretty dang open about my personal life online but if I had a lot of feelings I thought were disgusting and immoral I would not write a novel dripping with those feelings before pointedly castrating the leads for them. Especially if it wasn't relevant to the actually highbrow themes of (checks notes) winning over your adversaries with kindness and never relinquishing your monopoly on violence. I would be so so so so embarrassed to let this go to print, it's so psychologically transparent, what was he thinking

(Well, I assume he's a very different person with different social incentives. For all I know, people in his church went "hey Orson we read your book and it's clear that you're gay but signaling strongly that you won't give into the gay feelings, we're here for you, it was really brave of you to publish this".)

[writingquestionsanswered]

how do i make my writing more ‘mature’? i always feel like no matter how sophisticated i write and no matter every which way i change it up it always has a sense of being childish or juvenile.

Making Writing Sound More Mature

1 - Better Plot and Story Structure - One of the telltale signs of juvenile writing is a story that meanders, has no obvious plot or structure, has no conflict or has a protagonist with no goal. So, make sure you have a well fleshed out plot, with a conflict, protagonist goal, and which hits the beats specific to your story's genre.

2 - Three-Dimensional Characters - If you're writing plot-driven fiction, make sure your main characters have a fleshed out personality, stakes, motivation, goal, and compelling relationships with other characters. If you're writing fully or partially character-driven fiction, do all of the above, but also make sure your main characters have a relevant internal conflict and a thoughtful character arc.

3 - Well-Developed Setting and World - One common hallmark of juvenile writing is a lack of "sense of place" and under-developed world building. So, make sure you put a lot of thought into where your story takes place... not just the immediate setting of each scene, but the overall world of the story, or at least the parts of it that are relevant.

4 - Incorporate Literary Devices - Juvenile writing tends to be lacking in the use of metaphor, simile, symbolism, irony, themes, and motifs. So, make sure to include those, but also take the time to make them relevant to your story.

5 - Include a Broad Range of Vocabulary - One common element of juvenile writing is a reliance on limited, simple vocabulary. Don't be afraid to use a thesaurus to find more interesting word choices--just be absolutely certain to crosscheck your choices with a dictionary to make sure they are the right choice. Online thesauruses in particular are bad about offering up bad suggestions. Also, make sure to learn and use special vocabulary that is relevant to your story, genre, or setting. For example, if your character is a retired police detective trying to solve a murder on his stalled cruise to Alaska, you need to make sure you know the proper investigative terminology, because he will definitely use it. And, by that same token, you'd want to make sure you know cruise ship lingo as well. And, part of this, too, is getting better at description and the inclusion of emotional and sensory detail.

6 - Use Varied Sentence Structure - This is a big one... juvenile writing tends to use repetitive sentence structure, such as simple sentences (she stood up, she went to the window, she waved at the man), lack of subordinate clauses (Tad Smith, who was a seasoned and retired investigator, had looked forward to this cruise his whole life...), repetitive starts (every sentence begins with a pronoun, for example), uniform length (all short sentences, for example.) So, make sure your sentences are varied. If you read them out loud, you don't want it to sound rhythmic, but more like a complex melody.

7 - Show, Don't Tell... Most of the Time - Telling definitely has its place, but most of the time you want to show rather than tell, meaning that instead of stating things simply and directly (the sun was shining) you want to paint a clear but indirect image (dappled sunlight shone through the trees.)

8 - Avoid Cliche Phrases - Human language is littered with everyday phrases like "to each their own" or "better late than never." Generally-speaking, you want to avoid these phrases in your story, especially in exposition. If you include them anywhere, they're best spoken as dialogue by a character who it makes sense would say something like that. Likewise, be careful of cliche genre or character-type phrases. For example, villains who say things like "we're not so different, you and I..." or "I finally have you right where I want you!" These overused phrases tend to make stories sound juvenile and unpolished.

9 - Avoid Cliche Tropes - Another type of cliche to avoid if you want more mature-sounding writing is cliches of various tropes. Tropes on their own are a good thing, but when tropes are used the same way over and over again in a genre or type of story, they become predictable. For example, the super gorgeous protagonist who everyone is in love with, but they view themselves as plain and not special. Or the broken/hopeless/addict mentor character. It's not that you can't use any cliche tropes at all, just make sure your story isn't riddled with them, and do what you can to put your own spin on the ones you do use.

10 - Read, Read, Read - And I can't stress this enough... the absolute best way to improve your writing style and take your writing from juvenile to polished is to make sure you're reading a lot of fiction, in a lot of genres, by a lot of authors. Audio books, short stories, and poetry count, too. The more you read, the more you begin to: understand plot and story structure, recognize well-developed characters, easily envision complex settings and worlds, learn vocabulary and literary devices, become attuned to varied sentence structure, and learn to recognize cliche phrases and tropes.

Happy writing!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here

[batboyblog]

https://www.tumblr.com/batboyblog/763234650399424512/the-recent-chappell-roan-thing-is-why-i-absolutely

I frankly also get the impression that a lot of these people genuinely think another Trump term will just be “business as usual” or “it’ll only hurt the people who deserve to suffer” and that they’ll just be able to hide away from the consequences for four years before someone comes along and fixes the mess for them and they get to benefit.

I don’t think they have any realization of just how bad this is gonna get the second time around, because the first time Trump was metaphorically behind a chained fence and held back by strong rope. This time he’s being let loose alongside his fascist theocratic friends.

I've puzzled about this for some time, because like do people honestly not remember what it was like? what those 4 years were like? the fear, the chaos, the national embarrassment. Every day waking up and going "oh god! what did he DO! while I was asleep!" and how often you'd wake up to some story that he'd tweeted something scary and dangerous at 4am. I believe him threatening to nuke North Korea (the "Fire and Fury" tweet) was one of those very early AM specials that we all woke up to.

I mean for people like Chappell, its hard to remember, but Trump has been the more or less national main character for 9 years, since the fall of 2015. I mean an 18 year old first time voter could have been 8 years old when Trump came down the gold escalators told us all that Mexicans were rapists and he was running for President. So for anyone under 30, Trump is normal since every election they've been able to vote in, he's been the Republican nominee. I've spent 9 years of my life, across 5 elections fighting Trump directly or indirectly. Depressing thought that.

but past that there's been a national effort to gaslight us all into thinking "yeah no it was normal" I mean I remember the media coverage of 2017, the first year or so of Trump's Presidency, every few weeks or so there'd be some "is it time for the 25th amendment now?" story about if Trump's weird behavior this time for his cabinet to step it and remove him. (A quick google turned up CNN Oct 2017, New York Times May 2017, The Guardian July 2017, and Vox February 2017) compare that to coverage today? The term "Sane-washing" has been coined where when Trump says something bonkers it gets characterized as "sometimes meandering" rather than "incomprehensible" and "worrying"

figures in the media have gone so far as to claim there's just no point to covering new Trump scandals because "they won't move the needle" which really should not be a journalist standard. And we see that they do, take North Carolina's Mark Robinson. Caught in a massive scandal, involving sex, porn, and being a Nazi, he's now down massively in the polls after nation wide coverage. Trump just had new court documents opened that showed he wanted a riot on January 6th, that his reaction to a mob threatening the life of his Vice-President was "so what?" and they he knew full well that he had lost but was going to "fight like hell" any ways. And its not much of a story, indeed I'm seeing more news about a NY Republican Congress having worn black face (new story today) than Trump's effort to over throw the government and kill Mike Pence.

past the media's gaslighting of course there's been a major and on-going campaign to effect how we see reality. I know that sounds very woo-woo, but to step back for second, most of what we know about the world is stuff people tell us, so you know Joe Biden is the President because other people have said so, most likely you've never met him or even seen him in person. Well as more and more people turn away from traditional media, and traditional media turns more and more to making of money by confirming the bias of people, it becomes easier and easier to slip things that are not real into "facts we are told". So for example "Joe Biden is President, and also in decline" there's never been any real evidence of that, but if on social media you are bombarded with it 4,000 times a day... you start to take it as understood wisdom.

people are also getting worse and worse at not just taking what they're told if it confirms biases they already have. Former Vice-President Al Gore wrote a book nearly 20 years ago now, called "The Assault on Reason" which had a ton of very interest neuroscience about the ways that moving images, TV he was talking about, by-pass the logic centers of the mind, the way we relate and trust someone talking to us in a way the written word does not. I can't help but reflect on that with the rise of TikTok and short form video as a "source of information" (lol)

any ways this is a long winded way of saying bad faith players, Republicans, left wing grifters, and agents of chaos, have been very good at flooding the zone all through the Biden Presidency with stuff "student loan debt" remember when that was SO! important SO big and Biden "not doing anything" (untrue) was the biggest deal? well yesterday his newest plan got unlocked in court and 3 out of every 4 people with loan debt will get relief.... oh you're just now hearing about that from me? huh... funny... I thought it was the number one issue and reason we should never trust Biden and the Democrats... weird....

but there have been other issues pushed up as THE! issue, its all misdirection, its all meant to get natural Democratic voters to feel frustrated, upset, and hopeless, and not to vote their interest. The world is a big complex multi moving machine, and anyone telling you that one issue either fixes every other issue or totally totally outweighs everything else and should for everyone, is most likely BSing you and doesn't have your best interests at heart.

and lets be clear, Trump is a Rapist he's a lot of things, traitor, racist, scumbag, criminal, scab, tax cheat, fraud, etc but for me any ways, I'm not gonna vote for a rapist to be President and if other people aren't gonna do everything they can to stop a rapist from being the President I don't want to hear how much they care about progressive issues.

[clementineofmine]

I'm sitting here rewatching Tua S3 for reasons, and one interesting thing I picked up is that the entire season is really just each of the Umbrellas struggling to define and searching for family in their own way. Here's me laying down some thoughts for y'all:

Luther - For him, family has always been about the team. That's part of the reason he's so drawn to the Sparrows, bc at first they seem to have the cohesiveness that the Umbrellas lacked. Remember, Luther was the last one left at the Academy, then Reginald sent him to the moon alone. So of course seeing a "functional" team is going to be compelling for him, and he desperately wants to be part of it. And then he and Sloane quickly fall in love and for the first time in his entire life, someone wants him for him. It's intoxicating and utterly consuming NRE that is more powerful than anything he's ever felt.

Diego and Lila - For these two, it's about figuring out how to be a family. Both together, but also a little bit with the other Umbrellas. Diego looking out for Allison and Klaus and Lila and Five coming to a truce are part of this - more about Lila and Five in a sec.

Allison - In her mind, her family is Claire and Ray. This one is obvious, but I also think that the writers did us a disservice by not letting us into Allison's perspective. If you think about it, it's completely normal for a parent to put their child above all. While I don't defend her actions, her motivation could have been more compelling and it would have strengthened her character. But sadly she's the character on the show that is most "othered" (which is bad for many reasons)

Klaus - he really dug deep into individual relationships w family, starting with Five (e2 and 5 Five and Klaus bonding are still some of the best bits of the season imo), Diego, Reginald, Sparrow Ben, and then Luther in the afterlife.

Five - Five remains a pragmatist. His bar for family is very low - success for him means the Umbrellas being alive, no matter what the personal cost or sacrifice to him or to some extent others. It is somewhat depressingly delightful to see how he makes his peace with the end of the world as the season progresses. Before that, however, I'd like to meander back to e3 and 4 where Lila convinces him to electrocute himself and then they go on the Commission mission. Both of the actors do a fine job here bouncing back and forth between witty banter and genuine emotion and I love it. It's a quick and subtle piece of dialogue when Five explains how he saved Lila from the Handler. The undertone is that they were both abused by that woman in a similar way - ultimately, she developed and kept them both as pawns in her own game. And I think Five, starting in S2E10 and fleshed out through S3, develops genuine empathy for and eventually acceptance of Lila as family, as one of them, because of this shared experience.

Viktor - Like Viktor in all seasons, he continues to feel out of place with the Umbrellas and compensates by over-prioritizing his relationships with others. Don't get me wrong, I do empathize with him that he lost real love with Sissy and Halan, but I also think Allison was 100% valid to call him out on his lying in E6, and it was on point to verbalize how the constant focus on Viktors pain minimizes her (and everyone else's) experience. (Edit to add: Viktor finally seems to get the message on this, after being called out by Allison, then subsequently both Sparrow Ben and Five, and spends the last few episodes trying to make amends. Real character development here and I like to see it)

Reginald - Well, his overarching motivation since S1 has always been bringing back his dead wife, so I won't belabor that, but also it's interesting to see how he interacted with Klaus particularly - esp in E7 when he sobers up it seems he is experimenting with remembering his role as a father. Now we don't get a ton about his internal motivation here, but you can tell there is some mild curiosity, if not affection, for Klaus, despite the fact that he ultimately is cool with sacrificing him.

Some of these are more obvious than others, but when you tie them all together, the idea that they are all desperately looking for family and the blind spots that that creates for them, some of the messiness of S3 starts to make a bit more sense.

[peachsukii]

— operation: shut down

『♡』  fem!reader x bakugo ╰➤ ꒰ Senior year of UA | Characters are all 18 ꒱ ♡ katsuki bakugo masterlist ♡ summary: during their senior year of UA, midoriya, bakugo and todoroki return to endeavor's agency for senior internships. while on a supervised patrol, bakugo experiences his first 'failure' as a hero-in-training and takes it extremely hard. reader makes an attempt to care for his fragile state when he returns to the dorms. tags & warnings:  failed mission, ptsd/trauma, mentions of blood/gore/violence, depression & anxiety, mild angst, emotional comfort, semi-fluff, bakugo and midoriya hug!? a/n: similar to the "tidal wave" story, but this one is a bit grittier and heavier subject matter. hopefully this also isn't too OOC for bakugo! i figure at some point during their time at UA, or in the field, they’ll have to go through something similar to this on their own. ꒰ Ao3 version | word count; 2,671 ꒱

Ahh, Saturday mornings - one of your favorite times of the week! There's something refreshing about being free from classes, surrounded by all your friends as you laze around the dorms. Yourself and Bakugo are usually the first two awake, often bumping into each other in the kitchen for breakfast. Midoriya and Kirishima are typically next, followed by a random assortment of the rest of the class. One thing's for certain, though, Kaminari is always the last one awake. Jiro swears it annoys the shit out of her that she needs to have an extra alarm to get him up, but he never fails to make her smile when she does.

Today, the dorms are on the quieter side as most of the class are off at their senior internships for a long weekend. You completed yours a few weeks prior, leaving yourself and Kirishima, Kaminari, Ashido and Yaoyorozu hanging around this weekend. Meandering toward the kitchen to grab a bowl of cereal, you run into Midoriya, sitting at the small table - alone.

"Hey! I thought you guys were gone 'til Monday?" you ask, confused as to why he's back early. As you approach the table, you see the somber emotion painted across his face, the usual radiance in his eyes dulled.

"Oh, hey y/n. Yeah, we got back late last night."

There's something unsettling about the way he said "late last night." He still hasn't looked up at you. You place a hand on his shoulder to grab his attention.

"Everything okay?" He jumps a bit at your touch, startling you. He's not typically this jumpy. "You look like you've seen a ghost, Zu."

You can see he swallows nervously, his eyes glued to the table.

"Christ, Izuku! You're scaring me, spit it out already!" you urge, growing impatient with his evasiveness.

Midoriya finally turns to face you, his face not able to hide the fact he didn't sleep last night, the darkness growing under his eyes.

"It's Kacchan...," he starts, stopping for longer than you were comfortable with before continuing quietly. "He's in his room and hasn't come out since last night. He won't talk to me or Shouto."

Your stomach cartwheels with a sour feeling.

"You can't just say that and not give me more background on what the hell you're talking about."

He shifted uncomfortably in the diner chair, placing his head in his hands on the table.

"We were on a supervised patrol with Endeavor after dinner last night. The three of us were responsible for escorting a family across the city when Endeavor received an emergency call, taking Kacchan with him and leaving myself and Shouto responsible for the original task."

Midoriya paused, letting out a soft exhale.

"While on the emergency call, Endeavor ended up getting hurt -," he puts his hands up, waving them as he quickly interrupts himself to say he's fine before putting his head back down. "- due to a fall. Supposedly, the villain they were pursuing took advantage of that as a distraction. Kacchan was able to subdue him..."

Again with the damn pauses.

"...but?" You try not to sound too annoyed, but can't help it. You loved Izuku dearly, but he really needed to learn to get to the damn point.

"...but the civilian he captured wasn't so lucky."

What the hell does that mean?

Something in your gut tells you to sit down for whatever it is he's going to say next. You take the seat next to him, placing a hand on his thigh for reassurance.

"You...don't have to say anything if you don't want to, Zu," your tone shifting from your previous annoyance to concern.

He puts a hand on top of yours and gives it a squeeze. "T-thanks, but it's okay. Maybe you could try to talk with him? I had Kirishima try, too with no luck."

"Okay, sure. Do you wanna tell me what happened, then?"

You're not really sure if you should know, at this point. If Bakugo's locked himself in his room and refuses to speak to anyone? Some serious shit must have happened. He's not one to completely shutdown and isolate himself, let alone from Midoriya and Kirishima.

"The...civilian didn't make it. The villain planted a bomb inside of the civilian as, uh...a backup plan, I guess. It went off as Kacchan was escorting them to the ambulance for evaluation."

Your stomach stirs a second time, afraid to confirm what you think happened. "...so, you're telling me he saw someone...explode?"

He hesitates. "Y-yeah. Endeavor told us he went into shock, which isn't like him at all but completely normal, all things considered. He went non-verbal until we got back last night. He didn't even yell, told us he was going to bed, walked off and slammed the door."

"Fucking hell...do you know if he at least got some sleep on the drive back?"

"Funny enough, yeah. He fell asleep on my shoulder." He smiles faintly, trying to look at the positive in this situation. You can't help but smile, too, imagining Bakugo passed out on him without a care in the world.

Midoriya rubs two fingers against his temple - he's intensely fighting to stay awake. But who could blame him? His best friend just went through something extremely traumatic and he doesn't know the best way to help him.

You rub his back, attempting to calm his visible anxiety.

"Alright, I'll tag in. Please Izuku, go to bed. You need to rest," you assert, knowing that he would keep himself up until he physically couldn't stand if it meant helping a friend - especially Bakugo.

"Yeah. Thank you, y/n," Midoriya says wearily. As he stands, you jump up from your own seat to wrap him in a tight hug. He accepts, sighing into your shoulder as his body deflates into yours.

"Come on, I'll walk you back to your room."

───

After you walk Midoriya back to his dorm room, you go inside with him for a few minutes to be sure he actually gets into bed. He lazily crawls under the sheets, letting you tuck him in as his eyes are fluttering closed. You pat his head and mutter a 'night Zu' as you tip-toe to the door, carefully shutting it behind you.

Jogging up to the 4th floor, you make your way down the hall to Bakugo's room. You stand outside for a moment before knocking twice.

No response.

You give him a few seconds before knocking again.

Nothing. You don't hear any movement on the other side of the door, either. Maybe he's asleep?

One final try before you give up and resort to calling him.

Thudding footsteps are stomping on the floor from inside his room after the third set of knocks. The sudden sound shocks you as the door flies open, Bakugo's scowling face emerging from behind it, the whites of his eyes faintly pink in color. Has he been crying?

"God dammit, nerd! I fuckin' told you -," He doesn't notice it's you right away as he's shouting in your face. Once the realization sets in, he visibly recoils at his mistake. "...sorry. Thought you were Izuku."

"I could go dye my hair and draw freckles on if you wanna yell at me," you joke.

He doesn't laugh - not even an eyeroll.

Your heart sinks.

Neither of you say anything, standing there awkwardly as the air thickens between the two of you. Bakugo audibly exhales and you can't tell if he's annoyed, angry or...sad.

"Can I come in?" you ask humbly.

He says nothing, retreating back into his room - but, he leaves the door open for you. You take that as an accepted invitation, coming inside and closing the door behind you. He sits on his bed, knees tucked up to his chest as he scoots back to the wall.

Seeing Bakugo like this tugs at your heartstrings, despondent and detached, the opposite of any emotions he'd usually carry. You follow him to the bed and quietly ask permission to sit with him.

"Do you want me to sit with you, Kat?"

He doesn't move, just answers with a muted 'whatever.'

As gentle as you can, you climb onto the bed and shimmy next to him, back against the wall. You'll take this as a win, especially since Midoriya mentioned him not answering anyone else. You're about to say something as you hear a sniffle, confirming your suspicions.

Bakugo was and has been crying.

You reach over to put a hand in his hair in an attempt to comfort him. Instantaneously, he smacks your hand away - hard - and a spark jumps off his palm. Normally, he'd let you touch him without an issue - to an extent, of course, but right now? You understand why he wouldn't want any physical touch.

"Okay, I'll sit here as long as you want," you affirm, retracting your hand and pulling your own knees to your chest. "You don't have to say anything."

With that, the flood gates busted wide open. Bakugo whips his head in your direction, his nose red and eyes swollen, and frantically scrambles on to you. The two of you fall sideways into the pillows at the head of the bed as he wraps his arms around you into an awkward embrace. He buries his face in the curve of your neck, latching onto the back of your shirt with an ironclad grip as he begins to sob.

You have never heard him cry this hard over anything, not even after his fight with Midoriya back in their first year.

You don't wait for Bakugo to say anything before you're cradling him against you, one hand delicately stroking his hair while the other massages light circles on his back.

"I've got you, Katsuki, it's okay," you whisper soothingly while trying your damndest to stop yourself from crying along with him. You wish, more than anything in the world, that you could physically remove the memory from his brain to free him of this trauma.

"I'm not going anywhere, I'll stay as long as you want."

He doesn't respond, only pushes himself deeper into your embrace. You can feel the material of your shirt sticking to your skin at your collarbone from his snot and tears, and you're definitely going to have bruises on your back from his fingers digging into you for support. None of that matters though in the moment, what matters is that he's getting the initial shock out of his system.

You're not too sure how long you both lay there, but with time, you can tell Bakugo's calming down by his sobs mellowing out. His body begins to loosen up, the tension melting from his tightened grip around you. And then you hear it - a low snore.

He'd fallen asleep.

You tilt your head back to get a look at his face. His features have relaxed around his puffy eyes and pink nose. Without thinking, you run a hand through his bangs, exposing his forehead and press a tender kiss to it. He doesn't stir and continues to take deep, sleepy breaths.

───

Bakugo wakes an hour later, dazed and exhausted. When he starts to shift in your arms, you open your eyes. You give him a hearty smile as he releases his hold, rolling onto his back next to you.

"Mornin' sunshine. How're you feeling?"

He snorts as his eyes focus on the ceiling. "Like shit."

He pauses before looking back at you. "But less than before. Thanks. I'm just fuckin' tired."

"You scared me, I've never seen you that upset before," you admit. "You don't have to talk about it now, or ever, just know that I'm here for whatever you need."

"I don't even know what to say about it. Shit sucked, but it's what we signed up for." He's very monotone, but at least he's talking.

You roll over to face him. "I'm sorry you had to see it."

Bakugo sighs. "'S what it is. I'll get over it. Endeavor told me the first one is the hardest, better to get it outta the way before becomin' a pro."

Damn, that made your heart ache.

"Just 'cause we wanna help people doesn't mean we can't also ask the same for ourselves. Heroes need a hero, too."

He lolls his head to the side and stares at you, a gleam in his tired eyes. "...yeah."

The room is silent as the two of you take a break from the rough conversation. If he doesn't want to continue talking, you don't push it. Instead, you offer a distraction.

"I'd love to take you hiking today, if you're up for it," you say with enthusiasm. "I know how much you love that one trail nearby with the overlook of the city."

Bakugo felt his heart flutter at the proposal, confusing the hell out of him, but offered a sense of comfort that he needed. He loved that you remembered something so niche about his interests.

"Maybe tomorrow."

"Sure! You tell me how early you wanna go and I'll get my ass out of bed. Just for you," you tease, jokingly smacking his arm. "We can get lunch on the way back from the hike, too. Wherever you wanna go!"

Between the swirl of emotions from earlier and how sweet you're being to him now, he's overwhelmed with a feeling he can't quite place.

"Y/N, can I ask you something?" he asks abruptly.

Well, that came out of nowhere.

"Always, Kat. What is it?"

He stalls his follow up, seeming to think a little longer on how he wans to phrase his question.

"Why...are you here with me?"

His question baffles you. "Because you're my best friend?"

Best friend, he repeats in his head.

You notice the pondering look in his eyes as he turns to face you, shifting to lay on his side.

"It's because I care deeply about you, Katsuki. Nothing'll ever change that."

"...promise?" His voice is shaky, a nervousness to his tone.

You reach out and touch his cheek, stroking it lovingly with your thumb.

"Is that even a question? Yes, I promise. You're stuck with my ass forever, like it or not. I’ll be cheering for you every step of the way."

He laughs - genuinely.

And then he smiles. Your heart soars into the heavens.

"There's my favorite firecracker!" you boast, squishing his cheek in your hand.

Bakugo huffs at the sudden affection, a dusting of pink on his cheeks and nose.

"Th' fuck?!" he curses, playfully poking your forehead. "I'm not a firecracker!"

“Coulda fooled me, Mr. Lord Explosion Murder God Dynamight.”

The two of you play fight, cackling like children as the tension melts from the room.

Even if it’s just for a little while, Bakugo forgot about the agonizing dread from hours ago.

───

Later on in the dorm lobby, you’re sitting on the couch with Bakugo, feet in his lap watching TV as he’s reading a book. Midoriya comes prancing into the room, fresh faced from his nap. His eyes brighten when he sees Bakugo on the couch.

“Hey guys! Kacchan, how are you feeling?” he asks cheerfully, taking a seat on the couch next to him.

Unexpectedly, Bakugo wraps an arm over Midoriya’s shoulder, tugging him into his side.

“Fine, nerd. Thanks.” He lets go, puts a hand on his head and roughly fluffs his curls - just like when they were kids. Midoriya is so taken aback that he doesn’t say anything, he just smiles and relaxes next to him.

“What are we watching?”

You lean sideways to catch a glimpse of the boys together on the couch, co-existing without any negativity. Even after all the shit life throws at them, they still find ways to shove it all away to enjoy each other’s company. Sometimes, they just need a little help getting back to that mentality.

A silent huff escapes you as you lay back into the couch.

These boys are going to be the death of me.

i love these goobers and wanna buy them a lifetime’s worth of ice cream and take them to disney world to make them happy :’)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Cool for the Summer 4

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power dynamics, cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: After finishing your degree, you return home only to find things aren’t as you left them.

Characters: Bucky Barnes

Note: baby girls, he we go.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You rinse out the bowl you used for your oatmeal. It’s only as the back door opens that you notice the roar of the mower’s stopped. You put the porcelain in the dishwasher and shut it as you hear footsteps down the hall. It’s almost ten o’clock. 

“Hey, baby girl,” Bucky greets your back as he enters. “I just put fresh water in the hot tub. Might go for a soak myself, try to loosen up these muscles.” 

You face him, “hot tub?” 

“Oh, yeah. Guess that’s new too.” He chuckles. “Another one of my projects.” 

“Right,” you nod. A sudden buzz makes your jump. 

You look around and scurry across the kitchen to grab your phone. It’s a message from your mom. But why would she text you? Can’t she just come downstairs? 

‘Is Bucky still there?’  

You stare at the message and frown. Huh? 

“Everything okay, doll?” Bucky asks. Your eyes flick up. 

“Um, yeah, erm, it’s my mom...” you shake your head. 

“Right, how’s work going for her?” He plants a hand on the counter and leans. 

“Work? It’s her day off,” you blink. 

“Ah, yeah, she said she didn’t want to wake you up when she left. She got called in. Emergency.” He explains. 

You clutch the phone as you stare at him dumbly. Why didn’t he mention that earlier? Well, it’s not on him, you could have checked. But if she’s gone, why is he still here? 

“Don’t spoil the surprise,” he says, “about the lawn.” 

“I won’t,” you look down and text her back. 

“So how about it? You up for a soak?” He asks again. 

“Um, I’ll think about it. Just gonna chat with my mom,” you waggle your phone at him and meander to the door. 

‘Great. You two can get to know each other.’  

Her answer is disappointing. You thought she’d be surprised, maybe confused. It’s all perfectly normal to them. You’re still adjusting. If she’d told you before you got there, it wouldn’t feel so strange. 

At the same time, you don’t want to let her down. You can’t just ignore her message. You have to try but you feel like you haven’t even had time to settle in. And he’s not the only thing that’s different. Your room doesn’t even feel like yours. 

You stand at the bottom of the stairs. You key in a final reply. ‘Ok’. That’s it. A tepid agreement. 

“Hey,” Bucky surprises you again. “Invitation stands,” he wipes his forehead, his bicep bulging as he does, the muscles of his chest straining. “I’m just going to get in my trunks.” 

“Uh, I... I’ll think about it,” you make yourself take a step up and climb steadily, refusing to look back. 

You stare at the phone. You don’t want to be rude. You’re sure there’s a reasonable explanation for why your mother didn’t mention him. You might do the same in her shoes. After so long being single, she was probably just letting it pan out. 

Still, she could have said something when you were on the train. 

Whatever. It’s not your place to complain. You’re still living under her roof, rent-free, after years of tuition on her dime and a lifetime of dependency. You can pretend like this is all okay. 

You go into your room and shut the door behind you. You wouldn’t have a swim suit in the dresser, you didn’t bother to pack it for college. Wherever your other clothes are, it should be there. You just don’t know where that is. 

A tank top and shorts should do the trick. You prefer that to an actual swimsuit. It won’t feel so revealing.  

You take out a hot pink spaghetti strap shirt and a pair of black shorts. You switch out your clothes, catching your foot in the shorts and tripping slightly. You stand up, shirtless, leaning on the vanity as you get your balance.  

You glimpse your reflection and shy away. You tie the string of the shorts and reach for the tank top. You pull it over your head and check yourself in the mirror. It will do. You hope. 

As you come out of the room, another door opens. You peer down the hall as Bucky emerges from your mother’s room. You gulp and flick your eyes away from him. He wears a pair of light blue shorts, so short you might mistake them for briefs. His thick thighs and torso flex with his movement as he approaches, a towel over his shoulder. 

“You changed your mind?” He asks as he comes closer. 

“Erm, well, I... I’ll give it a try. I’ve never really been in a hot tub, so...” You poke your fingertips together nervously. You don’t want to tell him your mother told you to be social. 

“Great, kinda feel like a loser sitting in there by myself. It’s really too bad your mom had to go in.” He sighs. 

Yeah, it is. You wonder why he didn’t mention it sooner. Or why he’s hanging around. You guess you don’t really know how things work around here anymore. 

“Don’t forget a towel,” he winks as he pats the one on his shoulder. “I’ll go get the cover off and you can come hop on in.” 

He brushes by you, his knuckle glancing off you as he does. You shuffle down to the linen closet and take out a towel. You don’t follow him right away. 

Your stomach is a flurry of nerves. It’s just the oatmeal. It always sits like a lump. You didn’t think about that, you were just hungry. 

You go downstairs and drag your feet to the back door. You come out onto the deck and peer around. The tub sits in the deck, installed where the table used to be. It steams as Bucky steps into it. He sighs and groans, muscles clenching up his back and sides. He must work out a lot. 

You look down at yourself. Self-consciousness creeps over you. It’s been a while since you thought so much about it. You tried not to focus much on your body; as long as you liked what you’re wearing, you don’t worry about what’s underneath. You don’t have the most extravagant taste but you have a few cute pieces. 

He lowers himself into the water and lets out another drone. He shifts around to face you but doesn’t seem to notice you as he closes his eyes and leans his head back. He takes a deep breath so his chest puffs out. 

You set your towel next to his on the small table near the edge. You near and stand at the lip of the tub. Can you just sneak away? 

“Hey,” his voice rolls over the bubbling water, “it’s not bad. Come on. It feels great. It’ll loosen you right up.” 

You nod and bite your lip. You get down on your butt before you ease yourself down onto the seat of the tub. The water steams and spits just beneath your shoulders. It is nice though it does raise a thick sheen across your forehead. 

“Mmm, trust me, when you’re mine age, you’ll need one of these,” he smirks. “So,” he stretches his arms around the frame of the tub, “what’s the plan, doll?’ 

“The plan?” You flap your lashes. 

“For the summer? Beach days with the girls? You wanna invite some friends over? You can have the tub to yourself,” he offers. 

“Mm, no, I... I’m looking for work. Uh, probably send out more applications.” You shrug. 

“Looking for a job? Ah, right, no more school, huh? Exciting. You got the whole world in front of you.” 

“Mhm, yeah,” you reach to rub your neck. 

“I’m sure you’ll still have time to hang out with your friends,” he insists. 

“Uh, I don’t... I don’t really have any,” you utter. You look away and stare at the fence. 

“No? Well, all my buddies are too busy for me. I know how you feel.” He says, “you know, we could be friends.” 

“Um, yeah, maybe,” you look at him again as you chew your lip. His eyes snap up from your chest. You look down and try not to show your horror. Your nipples are entirely visible as the pink fabric clings to you. You cross your arms. “You’ll be busy with my mom.” 

“Not all the time,” he says “You know, ever since she got this promotion, she’s been too busy for me.” 

“Ah, erm, I'm sorry.” 

“Why are you sorry?” He asks. 

You shake your head, “I don’t know...” 

“Mm, I know why,” he tilts his head. 

You stare at him in confusion. 

“You know a guy like me shouldn’t be kept waiting around. You’re a sweetheart, aren’t you? You can’t help but feel bad knowing I’m left all on my own. Lonely.” He traces a finger along the edge of the tub as he speaks. 

“I... guess. I don’t... know? I just...” You look away again. You can hardly stand the heat of the water as it boils your blood. 

He snickers and you wince as he shifts around the tub, sliding into the seat next to you. He slips his arm behind you as he does. You shrink down and stare at the deck railing. What is he doing? 

“This is nice, isn’t it? Getting to know each other?” His fingers tickle your shoulder as he crowds you. “You know, seems like we have a lot in common, doesn’t it?” 

“Um, erm,” you squirm in the seat. “I think... maybe... I should...” 

“Relax, it won’t do you any good if you don’t relax,” he girds. “I’m just saying, baby girl, seems like we’re both pretty lonely.” 

He leans back into the hot tub and lets his head fall back. You bend your arm, rubbing your other, and fidget. You want to just go but you’re scared to move. You don’t think you’re really afraid of him, he probably won’t stop you, but you’re just all locked up. 

You sit there, staring through the slats at the green lawn. The water babbles and your ears pulse. He continues to caress your shoulder. 

“Mm, baby girl, come on, just let yourself...” he taps your arm, “lean back, huh?” 

You obey. You lean back into the tub and slide down in the seat, trying to mimic him. Your head hits his arm as you recline. It is nice as the jets shoot up your back. 

“Wait, wait, you gotta get in the right...” he grabs your thigh and drags you towards him. “..place. Make sure you hit all the pressure points.” 

As he moves you, you spasm and cry out in surprise. A jet blows right against your shorts, a stream of water that sends tingles through you. You try to move back but he holds you in place. He squeezes your thigh and kneads. 

“Ah, yeah, baby girl, right there? Doesn’t it feel good?” 

You squeak as the water hits your clit through your thin shorts. You put your hand on his and wiggle. That only makes it more intense. Does he know what’s happening? 

“Please...” you gasp. 

“What did I say? Relax,” he continues to rub his fingertips into your thigh. “You’re all tense, baby girl. Let it go.” 

Your eyes round and you contort, trying to take the pressure off your clit. It doesn’t help. You puff out and grab onto his arm without thinking. He needs to let go. You can feel a throbbing inside of you. It hurts. Please, stop. 

The sensation crests and coils through you. Your muscles clench then release all at once. You squeal in shock and shame as your body twitches. You think you just... orgasmed? 

“Baby girl, what is it?” Bucky leans into you. 

“I...” you heave. “I-- nothing.” 

“Mmm, nothing?” His hand crawls up your leg and over your stomach. He twists and bends his arm, cradling your head and turning you to face him. You shiver as he cups your chest through the wet fabric and runs his thumb over the hard bud beneath. “Cause I think you just came in this nice clean water.” He leans in closer until you feel his breath against your lips, “baby girl, I thought you were going to be good for me?” 

[szariahwroteit]

Doll House: A Jude Bellingham + Orginal Character Erotic Series.

18+ Minors DNI

Chapter 11

Although Tori was thankful for the life she was currently making for herself in Madrid, as optimistic as she tried to be, sometimes she felt a little lonely. She had friends in Spain, shoulders to cry on if need be, but it was in moments like these where the loneliness she felt was a void too big to patch over.

Despite the undeniable chemistry she shared with Jude, she couldn’t sit and talk with him about problems that revolved around him.

The weather outside seemed to reflect Tori’s inner turmoil, the rain had been non-stop since the early hours of the morning and based on the forecast showed no signs of slowing down.

Tori watched a particular raindrop as it meandered down the glass of Jude’s bedroom window overlooking his sprawling backyard.

A soft knock sounded against Jude’s open bedroom door, causing Tori to startle slightly, breaking her focus from the rhythmic dance of the raindrop. She turned to see Jude standing there, a quizzical look on his face, flooded with concern. The dim light from the overcast sky illuminated the sharp lines of his jaw, making him appear even more ruggedly handsome.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked, his voice low and soothing, as he stepped further into the room. The way he cared, yet remained distant, left Tori feeling both comforted and conflicted. She took a deep breath, quickly brushing aside her swirling emotions.

“Yeah, just watching the rain,” she replied, forcing a lightness into her voice. “It’s so peaceful out there.”

Jude followed her gaze to the window, his brow furrowing slightly. “It is. But it’s also a bit gloomy. How about we find something to cheer you up?” He stepped closer, leaving just enough space for her to feel at ease while also making her heart race.

Tori smiled, trying to mask the heaviness inside. “I’m fine, really. Just a little nostalgic, I suppose. It happens.”

His piercing eyes searched hers, a mix of understanding and concern glistening in their depths. “You know you can talk to me, right? Even if it’s about… what happened with Eliza at dinner last night.” He gestured between them, the unspoken tension radiating like electricity across the room.

“I’m okay,” Tori smiled, hoping the gesture was enough to convince him.

Deep down, she was far from okay. A storm of emotions swirled within her, each one more tumultuous than the last. She felt as if she were walking on a tightrope, teetering on the edge of despair. The idea of allowing herself to truly open up filled her with dread; it was as if unleashing her thoughts and feelings would cause her to shatter like fragile glass. The tension coiled tightly within her, a constant reminder that one misstep could lead to a complete collapse.

Jude stood there for a moment, the silence stretching between them like an unbroken cord. The rain tapped relentlessly on the windowpane, almost in sync with the rapid heartbeat in Tori's chest. She could feel him weighing his next words carefully, an unspoken understanding lingering in the air.

Finally, he stepped closer, the warmth of his body radiating into the cool space between them. “Tori, come here.”

With an internal battle raging in her mind, Tori felt the pull of Jude’s invitation wash over her like a warm tide. She hesitated, torn between the urge to retreat into her shell and the simple longing to be near him. The very idea of letting him in was terrifying; on the other hand, the comfort of his presence offered a reprieve from the solitude that had clung to her heart.

As she crossed the room, each step felt both exhilarating and terrifying, a delicate dance of anticipation and fear. When she finally stood before him, the heat radiating from his body was undeniable.

“Tori,” he murmured, gently placing her hands on her hips, drawing her body against his so he could wrap his arms around her, pulling her into a comforting hug.

She melted into Jude’s embrace, the world outside fading into a distant murmur. His warmth enveloped her, and for a moment, the heavy weight of her loneliness dissipated. She could feel the steady beat of his heart against her cheek, a reassuring rhythm that grounded her amidst the chaos swirling in her mind.

“It’s okay to not be okay,” Jude whispered, his voice soft and steady. “You don’t have to pretend with me.”

Tori closed her eyes, a single tear escaping down her cheek. It surprised her, the sudden release of pent-up emotions, but she couldn’t hold back the floodgates any longer. “I just… I feel so lost sometimes,” she admitted, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. “I thought coming to Madrid would be this amazing adventure, but it’s not always like that. I miss home, I miss my friends, and I miss feeling like I belong somewhere.”

Jude tightened his grip as if he could shield her from the weight of her worries. “You belong here, Tori. You’re not alone in this. You have me, and I… I care about you. A lot.”

His confession hung in the air, charged with meaning. Tori’s heart raced a mix of hope and fear swirling within her. Could she let herself believe that? Could she allow someone in when she had built up so many walls to protect herself from hurt?

“What if I can’t be what you need?” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “What if I’m just a mess?”

Jude pulled back slightly to look into her eyes, his gaze unwavering. “Then we’ll figure it out together. You don’t have to have everything sorted right now. Just take it one day at a time.”

Tori nodded, her heart swelling with an overwhelming mix of gratitude and fear. She realized how desperately she wanted to trust him, to believe that she could lean on him without the weight of expectation. But the scars of past disappointments whispered doubts in her mind.

“Come downstairs,” Jude suggested, breaking the heavy silence. “Come and watch a movie with me.”

“Okay,” she finally replied, managing a small smile that still felt laced with apprehension.

As they made their way to the cozy living room, the atmosphere shifted away from introspection and into something lighter. Jude dimmed the lights and handed Tori a neatly folded blanket, instructing her to get comfortable on the sofa.

Tori wrapped the soft blanket around herself, feeling its warmth envelop her like a gentle hug. She sank into the cushions of the couch, her body relaxing as she settled into the space.

Jude took a seat beside her, his hands immediately finding her waist as he pulled her body on top of his wanting to be closer to her.

Despite Tori’s lack of clothes as she lounged on top of him, sex or anything of that nature was the furthest thing from his mind. Her legs rested on either side of his as she straddled his lap, her face pushed into the warm curve of his neck as she allowed herself to be held.

The feeling of Jude's body beneath her was both comforting and electric, a mix of intimacy and safety that left Tori's heart racing in a way it never had before. She felt enveloped in his warmth, like a blanket that shielded her from the chill of the outside world—all the loneliness, the hesitation, the fear. For a brief moment, her concerns faded into the background as she savored this closeness.

Jude's hands rested gently on the small of her back, his fingers tracing patterns that sent shivers coursing through her. As she nestled further into him, Tori inhaled deeply, breathing in his scent—a rich, earthy aroma that felt like home.

"It's nice to have this moment," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “Just us, away from everything else.”

Tori nodded against his shoulder, a quiet acknowledgment of the sanctuary they had created together at that moment. She could feel the tension within her begin to unravel, each heartbeat synchronizing with Jude’s soothing presence. Yet, a flicker of worry crept in—was it too good to be true?

“What are you thinking?” Jude asked, his tone gentle but curious as he tilted her chin up so their eyes locked. The intensity of his gaze sent her pulse racing.

“I don’t know,” Tori admitted, battling the mix of emotions swirling inside her. "I just feel… overwhelmed, I guess. It’s like I want to open up to you but I’m scared.”

Jude’s expression softened, his eyes searching hers with a depth that made her feel seen. “You don’t have to share everything at once. We can take our time, and I’m not going anywhere,” he assured her, brushing a strand of hair back from her face.

Tori felt the familiar ache of longing deep inside her, the gnawing desire to let him in. But letting him see her vulnerabilities felt like standing on the edge of a cliff, ready to plunge into waters unknown.

“Sometimes I think that if I open up too much, I’ll just drown in my own mess,” she confessed, her voice quivering slightly. “And I don’t want to burden you with all of that.”

“You are not a burden to me,” Jude replied firmly, his hands sliding to her waist, thumbs gently rubbing circles that calmed her racing heart. “It’s okay to be messy. Life is messy. But you don’t have to go through it alone. You’ve got me.”

His words wrapped around her, comforting yet intimidating. The sincerity in Jude's eyes and the warmth of his embrace made Tori feel fragile yet strong all at once. In that moment, she could almost see herself in a different light, not just as the girl struggling with her loneliness, but as someone deserving of connection and understanding.

Tori swallowed hard, taking a breath that felt deeper than the ones she’d taken before. “What if I end up drowning you too?” she whispered, the vulnerability of her words hanging between them like a delicate thread.

“Then I’ll learn to swim,” he replied, his voice steady and unwavering.

Tori felt something shift within her, that weight of doubt giving way to a glimmer of hope. Maybe Jude was right; maybe she didn’t have to navigate this storm alone. Just the thought was enough to coax a small smile out of her, and she leaned into him a little more, grateful for the strength of his resolve.

“Okay, just… be patient with me, okay?” she asked, her voice softer now, almost shy.

“Always,” he promised, his thumbs now brushing lightly over her hips in a soothing rhythm that sent sparks dancing beneath her skin. “Let’s just enjoy each other’s company for now. No expectations.”

Tori nodded, feeling lighter as she took in that promise. The tension that had held her captive began to dissolve, and for the first time in a long while, an unguarded smile broke across her face. She could let herself be in this moment, to let Jude’s presence seep into her layers of worry.

As he leaned back against the couch, Tori settled against him fully, her head resting on his shoulder. She could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath her, grounding her in the present. The faint sounds of rain pattering against the window melded with the rhythm of their breathing, creating a serene soundtrack that enveloped them.

Jude reached for the remote, flicking on the television to find a movie that would serve as a backdrop to their emerging intimacy. But the film was less significant than the arrangement of bodies—her small silhouette resting snugly on top of him, feeling both helpless and enveloped in his strength.

Tori let out a deep breath as she felt Jude's hand come to caress her bare thigh, the pad of his thumb gently tracing circles that ignited warmth beneath her skin. The touch was innocent, yet it held an unmistakable tension, a teasing promise of something more that lingered in the air around them.

The movie flickered to life, but Tori found it hard to focus on the screen. All of her senses were heightened; the way Jude’s fingers brushed against her thigh sent shivers along her spine, making her heart race in a symphony of exhilaration and uncertainty.

"What's on your mind now?" he asked, his voice soft and smooth like silk, drawing her attention back to him. His eyes were warm and inviting, and she could see the underlying desire swirling just below the surface.

"I'm just… thinking how nice this is," Tori admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "Being here with you."

“Just here, no pressure. Just us,” Jude repeated, his fingers still dancing across her skin, each stroke igniting something deep within her that she had kept suppressed for far too long. The touch was light, almost feather-like, and she wished he would press a little harder.

She swallowed the knot of uncertainty in her throat, allowing herself to lose herself in the moment—to indulge in the feeling of being desired, understood, and safe all at once.

As if sensing her thoughts, Jude’s hand slipped beneath the blanket, his fingers moving higher, brushing against the curve of her hip. Tori gasped softly, a thrill running through her as his hand explored her body with a delicate yet possessive approach.

"What if you could let go of everything outside this moment?" Jude murmured, his voice thick with tantalizing urgency. “What if just for now, you focused only on us?”

Tori’s breath quickened at the suggestion, her heart pounding against her ribcage as the reality of his words began to seep in. The noise of the outside world—the rain, the chaos, the loneliness—faded further into the background as she considered his offer.

She shifted slightly on his lap, a flush creeping up her cheeks as she tested the waters of intimacy that surrounded them—so foreign, yet alluring. There was a potent mix of excitement and fear, a sweet tension that had both of them teetering on the edge of something new.

“I want that,” she confessed softly, her voice trembling with honesty. “I want to forget everything else.”

Jude’s eyes darkened, filled with an intense warmth that made her heart flutter in her chest. “May I?” he asked as he reached for the hem of the T-shirt she wore.

Tori’s breath hitched in her throat as she felt the gentle tug of his fingers. It was both thrilling and terrifying, the weight of the moment grounding her as she considered his request. “Yes,” she whispered, barely able to meet his gaze, her heart racing with a mix of eagerness and fear.

With a carefulness that felt intimate in itself, Jude lifted the shirt, baring her skin to the cool air. The contrast sent goosebumps rippling across her body as her nipples stiffened, each touch igniting a fire that pumped through her veins. He took his time, his hands gliding over her bare waist, exploring her curves with reverence as though she were a fragile piece of art.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, his voice steady, as his eyes lingered on her breasts for a few ticks before finding hers again.

As beautiful as her body was and as much pleasure as he took in it, in this moment Jude wasn't looking for sex. All he wanted was to be close to Tori, to have her understand that she was wanted.

The intensity of his gaze sent her heart racing, and Tori felt a warmth envelope her that had little to do with the blanket. The weight of his admiration made her feel vulnerable—exposed to the very core, yet wrapped in layers of tenderness.

Each brush of Jude's fingers aainst her skin felt like a promise, a gentle exploration that ignited the building desire within her. Tori's breaths quickened, the air thick with anticipation as she let herself succumb to the moment. She wanted to memorize the way he looked at her—like he could see into her soul like every inch of her was beautiful.

“While your with me the last thing I want is for you to feel alone, I know our situation is the furthest thing from normal as is my life, but I am here for you if you let me be.” Jude leaned closer, his breath warm against her skin, a soft caress that sent tremors through Tori’s entire being. Each word he spoke felt like an invitation to unravel the walls she had meticulously erected around her heart.

Tori shivered as she gazed into his eyes, trying to decipher the sincerity that lay within. There was a magnetic pull between them, one that threatened to ignite the spark of something deeper, more profound. Yet the ghost of her insecurities whispered doubts, urging her to stay guarded, to retreat into the familiar shadows of solitude that had become her refuge.

Tori’s arms instinctively went to cross over her chest in an attempt to cover herself only for Jude to gently catch her wrists, pressing them down to her sides. “Don’t hide from me,” he encouraged softly, the warmth that radiated from his touch sending trembles along her skin. “You’re breathtaking.”

She met his gaze—a mingling of intensity and tenderness, an invitation wrapped in a promise. The vulnerability washed over her in waves, and she fought against the instinct to shield herself. Instead, she pushed back against her insecurities, allowing herself to revel in his admiration.

“Look into my eyes,” Jude whispered, his voice deep and resonant. Tori swallowed, her heart pounding in her chest as she obliged, gazing into the depths of his eyes.

“Trust me,” he murmured, his gaze unwavering, the sincerity in his expression inviting her to step further into the unknown. “You’re safe here with me.”

With each heartbeat, she felt the barriers she had so carefully constructed begin to crumble, loosened by the unwavering strength of his presence. She couldn’t deny the way her body responded to him—how every brush of his fingers, every whisper of his voice sent her senses spiraling.

“I want to trust you,” Tori admitted, her voice filled with a mix of longing and vulnerability. “But it’s hard for me.”

“Then let yourself feel,” Jude encouraged gently. “Let this moment be about you and me. No past, no expectations—just two people finding their way.”

The intimacy of his words wrapped around her like a soft embrace, and she allowed herself to breathe in the moment. Tori’s heart raced as she leaned in closer, feeling the heat radiate from both their bodies.

Tori clung to Jude as his body relaxed into the plush sofa, his fingertips gently tracing invisible patterns along her bare skin. Each stroke sent shivers down her spine, a reminder of the fragile line they were treading between trepidation and desire. His touch was tender, yet ignited a fire within her, a longing for something deeper than mere connection.

Her eyelids fluttered closed as she surrendered to the sensations pooling within her, the warmth of Jude's body cradling her own. It wasn't until she had to fight against tiredness to keep her eyes open that she realized how drained she truly was.

She'd spent the previous night in Jude's bed struggling to put her racing mind at ease. Now in his arms, chest to chest it was as if her body was finally exhaling the tension that had been bottled up inside her since the night before.

When Tori's eyes fluttered open a while later, she was in Jude’s living room alone, her body snuggled beneath the blanket he had given her earlier.

The warmth of the blanket engulfed her, a stark contrast to the chill of the rain still tapping against the window. The soft glow of the television flickered in the dim light, a reminder of the movie she’d half-watched before sinking into an unexpected slumber. Tori blinked groggily, the remnants of sleep drifting away as she registered her surroundings.

Sitting up, Tori held the blanket against her chest as she looked around for the T-shirt she previously wore before being disrobed by Jude.

She noticed Jude lounging in an armchair across the room, his attention captivated by the flickering screen. He had a pair of sweatpants on, the fabric clinging well to his toned legs, and despite the casual attire, he exuded an effortless charm that made her heart race.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” he said, a hint of a smile dancing on his lips as he caught her gaze. “You gave in and fell asleep on me. I didn’t want to wake you.”

His voice was warm and inviting, a soothing balm against the remnants of her earlier anxieties. Tori stretched, trying to shake off the drowsiness, but as she did, she became acutely aware of how the blanket slipped to her waist, leaving her exposed.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep,” she stammered, blushing slightly as she tugged the blanket back up to her chest, suddenly feeling self-conscious about her half-clothed state. “I guess I was more tired than I thought.”

Jude chuckled softly, the sound melting away her embarrassment. “No need to apologize. You looked peaceful. I could tell you needed the rest.”

As she settled back into a more comfortable position, a peaceful silence enveloped the room. Tori’s heart fluttered with a mix of vulnerability and warmth as she took in the sight of him—the way the dim light accentuated the contours of his face, the way he watched her with a glimmer of something deeper in his eyes.

“What are you watching?” Tori asked, her curiosity piqued.

“A classic,” Jude replied, shrugging slightly, seemingly engrossed by a young Denzel Washington on the screen.

“Enlighten me,” Tori said with a playful grin, eager to distract herself from the flutter of nerves in her stomach as she leaned forward slightly, making her way to the edge of the couch so she could grab her top from the floor and slip it back over her head.

Jude chuckled, his gaze shifting back to the film briefly before landing on her once more. “It’s Man on fire. He’s pretty phenomenal in this role.”

With a shy smile, Tori settled back down, her curiosity piqued as they both turned to watch the movie together.

As the film played on, the distance between them seemed to evaporate. Jude moved from the seat he sat on back over to the sofa Tori occupied, settling in next to her.

His presence was magnetic, and she couldn't help but lean into him, seeking the warmth and safety that filled the air between them. As he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, Tori felt a rush of comfort wash over her. The tension from earlier had faded, leaving behind just the two of them and the flickering screen.

“If you're willing to brave the rain, we could go to dinner later?” Jude suggested as he nuzzled closer to her, his breath warm against her hair. The invitation hung in the air, both enticing and daunting, like stepping out from under the protective cover of their shared moment into the chaotic world outside.

“Or we could stay in?” Tori suggested, hoping he'd be okay with the latter.

Jude's eyes sparkled with a playful glint as he turned his head slightly to look at her. “You’d rather stay in, huh? Just the two of us?”

Tori bit her lip, feeling the warmth of his gaze. “I mean… it’s cozy here, and we still have the movie. Plus, the rain is relentless outside. I wouldn’t mind staying in and making dinner for ourselves, unless I'm ruining any plans you made.”

Jude's smile broadened, a hint of mischief lighting up his eyes. "No plans ruined at all," he said, his voice low and inviting. "I like the sound of that. Just us, cooking together ...a bottle of wine?"

Tori's heart fluttered at the thought. The idea of being in the kitchen with him felt warm and intimate, a natural progression from the cozy moment they were sharing. “That sounds perfect,” she replied, a smile spreading across her lips as she settled deeper into the embrace of the blanket and his arm.

Jude's fingers lightly skimmed her back, a gentle touch that made her skin tingle. “Do you have anything in mind, we can make a grocery list.”

“A few nights ago I was in bed salivating over a homemade pizza recipe I saw on tiktok,” Tori grinned, feeling a spark of excitement.

Jude chuckled, his eyes brightening at her enthusiasm. “Pizza it is, I’ll even let you pick the toppings. Just promise not to go too wild,” he teased, waggling his eyebrows playfully.

Tori giggled, her earlier worries beginning to fade as the warmth of the moment enveloped her. “I can’t make any promises! Although I am not a Pineapple on pizza girl.”

“It's not that bad,” Jude retorted with mock seriousness, prompting a laugh from Tori.

“Debatable,” she replied, playfully grimacing.

“We should probably go and grab what we need now before the sun begins to set,” Jude said with a hint of practicality.

Tori nodded with an eager grin. “Let’s do it! I’ll just throw on some clothes and be ready in a flash.”

As she stood, the blanket slipped off her shoulders, reminding her of the carefree intimacy they had shared moments ago. She hurriedly went upstairs to Jude's bedroom and rummaged through her things, locating her leggings and a cozy sweater. After quickly changing, she felt more grounded, thougha rush from earlier still lingered in her chest.

“Ready?” she asked as she joined Jude in the living room, feeling a rush of excitement at the prospect of spending the evening with him.

“If you are,” he replied, his eyes sparkling with warmth as they headed towards the door.

Before stepping out into the cold, damp air, Jude stopped Tori in her tracks, gently taking her hand in his, grabbing her attention.

“Kiss me,” he murmured as he bowed his head to her lips, his breath just a whisper away. The invitation hung in the air, electric and charged with possibility.

Tori felt herself blushing furiously as she looked into his eyes, searching for hesitance after their earlier conversation, but all she found was a deep desire that mirrored her own.

“Now,” Jude urged softly, closing the distance between them, his eyes holding hers captive.

Tori's heart raced, anticipation pooling in her stomach as she felt a magnetic pull towards him. “Okay,” she breathed, her voice nearly a whisper. She leaned in, feeling his warmth envelop her as their lips finally met.

The kiss was soft and hesitant at first, a gentle exploration that sent a spark racing through her. Tori felt herself melting against him, utterly consumed by the moment. Jude’s lips were warm, and as he deepened the kiss, she felt a rush of emotions flooding over her—an intoxicating mix of exhilaration, relief, and a sense of belonging that she had been longing for.

Tori wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling his hands slide to her waist, pulling her closer. Time felt suspended as they lost themselves in each other, the outside world fading away until all that existed was the warmth of their connection.

After what felt like an eternity, they finally pulled away, foreheads resting against one another, panting slightly. The intensity of his gaze held her captive, and she could see the tenderness reflected back at her—a promise that they were in this moment together.

Tori laughed quietly, feeling giddy from their shared moment. She had been nervous about letting him in, but with each passing moment, she felt her walls melt away.

Taking her hand so he could lead her towards his car, Jude grinned at her, his eyes sparkling with an energy that ignited her own excitement. “Let’s go make some pizza,” he said, his voice buoyant.

As they stepped outside, the cool, fresh air brushed against their skin, invigorating and alive. Tori could hear the rain gently tapping against pavement, a steady rhythm that felt comforting, almost like a promise of a cozy evening ahead. She glanced at Jude, who was shaking off an umbrella from a quick jog from the car, and couldn’t help but smile.

The car ride was filled with laughter, the rain blurring past the windows in a hazy dance. The tension of their earlier conversation slipped away, replaced by the familiar banter that had pulled them together in the first place.

“Okay, what toppings do we need?” Jude asked as they navigated through the aisles of the grocery store. He was pleasantly charming, his hair slightly damp from the rain, while the low lights of the store highlighted the attractive angles of his face.

“Definitely cheese dnd maybe some mushrooms?” Tori replied, her voice bright as they browsed the selections.

“Mushrooms?” Jude teased with a playful grimace. “What else?”

She giggled, feeling light-hearted. “I feel like I’ll just grab stuff as we go, but I am definitely having mushrooms on my pizza.”

As they continued down the aisle, the mundane task of grocery shopping grew into an intimate experience, each shared laugh and playful argument over toppings deepening the bond between them. Jude would sometimes reach out to brush against her arm or lightly bump her hip with his, and each touch sent delightful jolts through her.

“We need a bottle of wine, right?” he asked as they neared the wine section, his eyebrows raised suggestively.

“Absolutely,” she replied, her heart racing at the idea of sharing a bottle with him while they cooked. “I’ll choose it, but if we’re cooking, it has to be something light.”

“You choose, I trust you,” Jude said with a grin, stepping aside as Tori searched the shelves for a suitable bottle.

After a few moments of perusing, she grabbed a crisp white, satisfied with her choice. “This should pair nicely with our culinary masterpiece,” she said, holding up the bottle triumph.

“I’ll take your word for it, wine is never my first choice.” Jude smirked but accepted the bottle from her, giving her a playful wink.

Continuing on through the store, they gathered ingredients: a mix of colorful bell peppers, spicy salami, and two types of cheese—mozzarella and a sharp cheddar that Tori claimed would elevate their pizza to gourmet status. The excitement bubbled between them, an undercurrent of flirtation and shared joy that was impossible to ignore.

As they approached the checkout line, Tori glanced at Jude, her heart flickering with a mix of affection and vulnerability. “Thanks for doing this with me. I really appreciate it,” she said, her voice sincere.

“Of course,” Jude replied, his expression softening. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. I like seeing you happy.”

A warmth blossomed in Tori’s chest at his words. She was starting to believe that he genuinely enjoyed her company—more than just a diversion from his own life.

After they paid for their groceries, they loaded the bags into the car, the rain pattering steadily on the roof. Tori couldn’t help but smile as Jude turned the key in the ignition and the car roared to life, a backdrop to the comfort that was beginning to feel like second nature between them.

As they drove back to his place, the rain created a serene ambiance, the world outside a blur of colors and sounds. Tori felt a lightness in her chest, the growing familiarity between her and Jude felt like something she had been craving for but hadn’t known it.

When they returned to the house, Jude and Tori rolled up their sleeves, washing their hands so they could begin to prepare their dinner.

What started out as what was supposed to be a simple relatively fun task had quickly taken a flirtatious turn.

Jude paid more attention to his lips on the crease of Tori's neck and the skin behind her ear as his pizza base lay half done on the counter. Each kiss ignited a spark within her that sent a wave of heat flushing through her body.

“Are you sure this is how you make pizza?” Tori teased, trying to keep her voice light despite the butterflies swirling in her stomach.

“Absolutely,” Jude replied with a playful smirk, leaning in closer, his warm breath brushing against her skin as he placed gentle kisses along her neck.

“Your pizza is not going to make itself,” Tori pointed out as she continued sprinkling toppings onto her pizza base.

“You can make it for me,” Jude said hotly against her ear as his hands reached down to caress her waist, tilting her body just ever so slightly towards his.

Tori felt the breath hitch in her throat as his hands roamed playfully, teasingly, exploring the curves that lay bare under her sweater. The warmth radiating from him was intoxicating, and she found it hard to focus on anything other than the delicious tension simmering between them.

“Was this your plan all along?” Tori asked, her tone playfulas she looked over her shoulder at him.

“Maybe," Jude replied with a smirk, his gaze locking onto hers with a teasing intensity that sent shivers down her spine. "I thought if I got you into the kitchen, I might get a bit more than just pizza."

Tori felt her cheeks flush with warmth, the air between them thickening with a pleasurable tension. She turned back to the counter, trying to concentrate on the task at hand, but Jude's presence was all-consuming. His hands continued to roam, trailing along her sides, sending waves of warmth cascading through her.

"You're distracting me,” Tori playfully protested, her voice slightly breathless as she tried to focus on the pizza dough now spread out on the counter before her.

Jude chuckled, the sound deep and inviting, and she could feel him moving closer behind her, his warmth radiating against her back, before he stepped away from her allowing Tori to making his pizza for him before he helped out them into the oven and set the timer.

Dinner went by in a blur of laughter and good, hearty food. When they were done, Jude offered to clean the kitchen while sending Tori upstairs so she could begin to unwind for the evening.

Tori took a deep breath, feeling a mix of satisfaction and warmth as she leaned against the kitchen counter, watching Jude work. He moved with a casual confidence, wiping down the counters and washing the dishes with ease. It was an everyday scene, but to her, it felt special—a glimpse into a life she never knew she wanted.

As she made her way upstairs, Tori felt a flutter of excitement in her stomach. She had enjoyed their time together, the intimacy they shared over cooking, but the night was still young, and she wondered what else lay ahead.

In Jude's bedroom, sheremoved her clothes before making her way into the bathroom, stopping in her tracks as her mind went back to the warmth of Jude's embrace, the way he had kissed her so softly that it felt like time itself had paused. She could still feel the heat radiating from her skin where his fingers had danced, igniting a fire within her that was hard to ignore.

As she stood there, the steam from the shower began to curl around her, creating a soft fog in the mirror. Tori looked at herself, the reflection showing a girl who was both scared and exhilarated. Never had she allowed herself to feel so vulnerable with someone else. The thought of being naked—both physically and emotionally—made her heart race.

She knew she could easily slip into the shower and wash away the day, but something tugged at her, urging her to reach out to Jude. A wave of spontaneity washed over her, and she couldn’t shake the idea of inviting him to join her. The thought sent a thrill through her; the intimacy of sharing such a private moment felt like a natural progression of their connection.

With a determined breath, Tori stepped out of the bathroom, her heart pounding as she made her way back to the bedroom. Jude was still in the kitchen, his back to her as he wiped down the kitchen counter.

“Jude?” she called softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

He turned at the sound of her voice, his expression shifting from concentration to surprise as he took in her appearance.

“Shower with me,” Tori murmured softly, her gaze intensely fixed on Jude's. She stood before him in his kitchen, completely bare, the warmth of her skin glowing under the soft lighting. The hint of vulnerability that once flickered in her eyes had vanished, completely replaced by a palpable, electric desire that filled the air between them. Her confidence radiated, inviting him closer.

“Baby,” Jude breathed out as his hands found her hips, his brow slightly furrowed as his eyes drank in Tori's figure as she stood before him, her caramel skin glowing under the soft lighting of his kitchen as she offered herself to him.

The words hung in the air, charged with an undeniable chemistry that made every nerve in Tori's body hum with anticipation. She could feel the heat radiating from Jude’s body as he stepped closer, their proximity intensifying the moment.

“Come on,” she coaxed, tilting her head slightly, a teasing glint lighting up her eyes. Tori turned on her heel, a playful sway to her hips as she led the way to the bathroom, glancing over her shoulder to catch Jude’s gaze filled with both desire and awe as she led him upstairs.

Jude followed behind her, his eyes glued to the soft jiggle of her ass with each step she took, the curve of her hips that gave way to her petite waistline. He was simply in awe.

Unable to stop himself, Jude raised his hand and sent a rough, stinging slap against the curve of her backside. The sound echoed in the stillness of the house, a sharp contrast to the soft whisper of the water running in the bathroom.

Tori gasped, her eyes widening in surprise, but the flush of excitement that spread across her skin was unmistakable. She turned to him, her breath hitching at the mix of pleasure and pain at that moment.

Her lips curved into a smirk, a challenge glinting in her eyes as she stepped closer, her body itching for contact.

Before she could form another lust-filled sound from her mouth, Jude lifted Tori into his arms carrying her the rest of the up the stairs and into his bedroom, using the door to kick the door shut behind them.

Using one hand to hold Tori’s body, Jude used the other to rip his t-shirt off, carelessly throwing it to the floor as they made a rather messy beeline towards his en-suite bathroom, a clash of lips and teeth as they indulged in one another.

After spending most of the day with such heightened emotions, all Tori wanted to do was forget. She wanted to allow herself to get lost in Jude as he took her to heights unknown.

Placing Tori down on the bathroom counter, Jude sunk down onto his knees as he pushed her legs open, coming face to face with her warm, slick pussy.

Tori's breath hitched as the cool marble of the countertop kissed her heated skin, her heart pounding in anticipation. Jude's rough hands gripped her thighs, parting them wide to reveal her most intimate place. His hungry gaze raked over her, and she could feel his eyes drinking in every inch of her exposed flesh.

"Fuck, you're so wet for me already," Jude growled, his voice low and rough with desire. His thumbs parted her slick folds, exposing her swollen clit to his heated stare.

Tori whimpered, her hips canting forward seeking more of his touch. "Please, Jude," she breathed, her voice heavy with need. "I want your mouth on me."

With a groan, Jude leaned in, his breath hot against her aching core. Tori's head fell back, her eyes squeezing shut as his tongue delved between her slick folds, lapping at her essence.

"Oh fuck, yes," she cried out, her fingers tangling in his hair. Jude's tongue was sinful, his mouth hot and gluttonous as he devoured her.

His talented mouth was relentless, his tongue delving deep to stroke along her fluttering walls, drawing out more of her sweet nectar. Tori's hips bucked against his face, desperate for more of that delicious friction.

"Just like that," she panted, her thighs clenching around his head. "Don't stop, please don't stop."

Jude hummed against her, the vibrations sending sparks of pleasure shooting up her spine as he roughly pushed her thighs apart, his head thrashing as he feasted on her.

Their eyes met as Jude lifted his gaze to hers, his eyes dark with lust and his lips glistening with her juices. Tori's pulse jumped at the intensity of that look, her body burning under his heated stare.

She watched, awestricken as Jude puckered his lips allowing a bead of spit to fall from between them onto her pulsing clit.

“Play with it,” he instructed hotly.

Tori's eyes flickered with a mix of surprise and arousal at Jude's command. She swallowed thickly, her pulse jumping as she reached down to circle her clit with the pad of her finger, her slick essence mixing with his spit.

"Good girl," Jude groaned, his voice low and gravelly. His praise sent a fresh gush of wetness to coat her fingers, her touch sending sparks of pleasure shooting up her spine.

Tori's breath came in shallow pants as she worked herself, her hips rolling in time with the movement of her fingers. The obscene sounds of her arousal filled the bathroom, mixing with the sound of the shower running in the background.

"Show me," Jude demanded, his voice leaving no room for argument. "Fuck yourself for me."

A whimper fell from Tori's lips as she complied, sinking two fingers knuckle-deep into her aching core. She fucked herself hard and fast, her fingers pumping in and out of her slick heat as she chased her release, unable to keep her eyes from rolling shut.

"That's it, baby," Jude encouraged, his fingers tangling in the back of her hair as he raised her head a little, making sure she was also audience to the show she was putting on for him between her thighs.

Tori's breath came in shallow pants as she worked herself, her fingers pumping in and out of her slick heat as she chased her release. The obscene sounds of her arousal filled the bathroom, mixing with the sound of the shower running in the background.

"Look at you," Jude groaned, his voice low and rough with desire. "Fucking yourself for me. You love this, don't you?"

Tori's eyes clenched shut, her hips bucking wildly against her hand as Jude's nasty words pushed her closer to the edge. "Yes," she whimpered, her voice broken and needy.

"Fuck, baby, you're so perfect," Jude growled, his praise sending a fresh gush of wetness to coat her fingers. "Come for me. Come all over those pretty fingers."

Tori's back arched, her body tensing as her orgasm crashed over her. "Jude!" she cried out, her inner walls clenching around her fingers as she came undone. Her vision went, stars exploding behind her eyelids as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her.

Before Tori had the chance to come back to reality, she was under the showers spray, clinging to Jude as he pinned her overstimulated body against the shower wall, rolling a condon down his thick cock.

He had no intention of rushing anything beyond this point, his eyes drinking Tori in as he towered above her, taking his length into his hand.

Tori's body trembled, her skin flushed and tingling with postorgasmic bliss as Jude pinned her against the shower wall. The hot spray of water cascaded over them, steam rising around their entwined forms. She gazed up at him through hooded eyes, her chest heaving with shallow breaths.

Jude's eyes raked over her, taking in every inch of her glistening skin, his own chest rising and falling rapidly with desire. His large hands gripped her hips possessively, his thumbs digging into the soft flesh.

"Are you ready for me, baby?" Jude murmured, his voice low and rough with need. He positioned himself at her entrance, the head of his cock nudging against her slick folds.

Tori whimpered, her hips canting forward seeking more of that delicious friction. "Yes," she breathed, her voice heavy with want. "I need you inside me."

With a deep, guttural groan, Jude thrust forward, burying himself to the hilt inside Tori's tight heat. "Fuck," he hissed through clenched teeth, his eyes squeezing shut at the exquisite sensation of her walls gripping him like a vice.

Tori cried out, her nails digging into his shoulders as she was stretched and filled by his impressive length. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, drawing him even deeper.

For a moment, they remained still, savoring the feeling of being so intimately connected. Jude's forehead rested against hers, their ragged breaths mingling in the steamy air between them.

Slowly, he began to move, withdrawing until just the tip remained before slamming back in, setting a deep, powerful rhythm. The wet slap of skin against skin echoed obscenely in the shower, mixing with their moans and gasps.

"Baby, look at me," he grunted as his eyes bore into hers, his hips snapping forward to meet hers. Each powerful thrust sent sparks of pleasure shooting up Tori's spine, her inner walls clenching around his thick length.

Jude's hands gripped her hips hard enough to leave bruises, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he pounded into her. The water cascaded over them, steam rising around their entwined forms.

"Fuck, you feel so good," Jude groaned, his voice low and gravelly. "Tori, you’re so fucking tight around my cock."

Tori whimpered, her head falling back against the shower wall as she lost herself to the sensation of Jude's merciless strokes. "Harder, baby," she panted, her nails raking down his back. "Fuck me harder."

With a feral growl, Jude obliged, his hips snapping forward with a boundless force. The wet, nasty sounds of their coupling filled the bathroom, mixing with the patter of the shower spray.

Tori's body trembled, her skin flushed and tingling with building pleasure as Jude pounded into her. She could feel her climax building, coiling tighter and tighter in her core.

Tori's body trembled, her skin flushed and tingling with building pleasure as Jude pounded into her. She could feel her climax building, coiling tighter and tighter in her core.

"Jude," she whimpered, her voice broken and needy. "I'm gonna cum."

"Cum for me, baby," Jude growled, his hips snapping forward with a boundless force. "Fucking soak my cock."

Tori's inner walls clenched around him, her body tensing as her orgasm crashed over her. "Fuck, Jude!" she cried out, her vision going white as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her.

Jude groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chased his own release. "Fuck, I'm cumming," he grunted, his hips stuttering as he buried himself deep inside her. Tori could feel him throbbing inside her, his hot seed spilling into the condom that sheathed his length in thick ropes.

They remained like that for a long moment, clinging to each other as they rode out the aftershocks of their release. Slowly, Jude lowered her legs, holding her up as he pressed soft kisses along her neck and shoulder. “I want to cum inside you so fucking bad,” he breathed, the revelation surprising him as much as it did Tori.

[class1akids]

Uraraka's quirk counselling program is nothing but a pale imitation of the Remedial arc, and does everything so much worse.

The remedial arc explores how the license trainees can get through to the unruly kids with quirks that affect their development and it comes up with ideas ideas like cooperation, treating them like equal and emphasizing how the kids' "splendid quirks" are essential to make the slide work. The quirk counselling program on the other hand gives them a competition based on quirk hierarchy that favors the best emitter quirks. Not only that, but Mirio (the No 1 hero) is lording his superior abilities over the kids in direct competition between an adult pro hero and some untrained kids with various levels of quirks.

In the Remedial arc, the kid standing apart gets heartfelt and sincere, life-changing advice from Bakugo that changes his perspective on things. In the quirk counselling program, Uraraka helps the kid cheat giving him a fake sense of confidence that will be useless to him long-term both for accomplishment or peer acceptance.

In the Remedial arc we get a long, thoughtful discussion about the challenges quirk singularity poses for the education system. The heroes and the homeroom teacher communicate with each other. Quirk counselling program is basically "don't worry about the paperwork, you will for sure notice the signs" (that the teachers for some reason can't).

In the same chapter that present Deku sensei to us as a transformative force in society, the rest of the teachers are so useless that heroes in their spare time surely will notice more than them. So is teaching a worthwhile profession or not?

In the Remedial arc we actually get to see a kid's quirk getting reconceptualized from purely destructive to something that can help society. Quirk counselling program: pseudo-Deku is momentarily popular thanks to Ochako helping him cheat. Even pseudo-Bakugou is impressed.

Remedial arc: a personal connection is formed between the trainees and the kids.

The quirk counselling program couldn't care less about the kids. It's just a fig leaf to cover up how empty the "society then changed" claim is.

The Remedial arc is one of my favorite arcs in the whole manga, because the lessons it taught went really to the heart of quirk society's imbalances, as well as what it means to save someone. I'm sad all the build-up and themes were forgotten and thrown away and the quirk counselling program has no traces left of the ideas that made the remedial arc work.

It's also kind of annoying to again take away something that was built up for other characters and give it to Uraraka to fill her meandering arc with something but whatever.

The forever superior babysitter squad!

[thebibliophilevigilante]

When it comes to getting intel, there are several ways to go about it. One could ask politely, or ask the right questions to eventually draw information from their target. There is intimidation, threatening your target and demanding the information in exchange for remaining unharmed. Then there is incognito surveillance, appearing inconspicuous and melding in with one’s environment just listening and watching.

The current session was the latter.

A raven-haired man with a blanched tuft in his bangs kept his teal eyes trained on the book in his massive, calloused right hand. His left swirled his take-away cup absentmindedly. He was reading words, but they weren’t registering in his brain. His focus was more concentrated on the conversations around him, and what information he could gather before his next patrol.

The first three rules of real estate are location, location, location. Burnley Brewhouse definitely had that, especially for Jason Todd. It was conveniently placed right on the very edge of Burnley, practically at the juncture of where Crime Alley and The Bowery neighborhoods started (which were all Jason’s domain). By day, the neighborhood was full of regular citizens, students and tourists. By night, the whole area was crawling with denizens of the dark wheeling and dealing for their own personal gain and vices while putting others at risk.

Jason brought his cup to his mouth for a sip, his eyes flicking to the counter where two men with heavier builds were waiting for their order. One had a rough 5 o’clock shadow, the other a scraggly, unkempt blond beard, both wearing holy jeans and beat-up leather jackets. He recalled seeing them once during a patrol a couple of weeks prior, skulking around by the Freight Yards. They were definitely up to no good then, and could offer him decent information in the present. The barista handed both of them a take-away cup, and his eyes quickly glanced down to his book again, his peripherals watching as they meandered around to sit at a table caddy-corner from his in the back corner of the shop.

“Terry was telling me about that new candy order he has coming in,” 5 O’Clock muttered lowly to his friend. “Said it should get here overnight, and we can distribute to the stores first thing in the morning.”

Scraggles ran his nails over his beard as he listened. “Loaded with sugar? Y’know these kids can’t get enough of their sugar.”

“He said it was everything needed from the inventory list. He said he has his pal Molly coming in to help with the shipment too.”

There was a small pause before, “How many donuts did he get and where from?”

“11 for the crew. I think he said they’re from Declan’s over on 14th Street.”

Jason had to refrain from rolling his eyes. Those two idiots were blatantly discussing a drug drop in broad daylight just as if they were talking about a regular candy store shipment.

He switched the book to his right hand as he snagged a napkin from the holder and a pen from the table. He scribbled a note to himself, writing the characters’ names from his book, followed by “PG 11, DL 14.” He knew his own shorthand; the character names were to keep up appearances. “PG 11” would remind him the drop was scheduled for 11, and “DL 14” would remind him the ship would be at Dock Bay 14.

His attention went back to his book as he brought the pen to his lips, teeth nibbling on the retractable plunge as he appeared deep in thought. He was about to tune back into 5 O’Clock and Scraggly’s conversation when the cafe’s entry bell rung.

His eyes flitted to the door to assess the entrant, and he froze. A young brunette with piercing dark eyes was glancing around, looking for a place to perch herself no doubt. She was breathtaking, and certainly unlike any other person he had seen come in to Burnley’s. As she turned to the counter, he couldn’t help the large grin that danced over his face. First he got lucky with the tip-off. Would he be lucky enough for that gorgeous girl to sit anywhere within his vicinity?

@rpwiththelilflower