#raine writes

[nyaskitten]

CHAPTER 1 OF MY NEW FIC IS OFFICIALLY UP! What started off as just me jotting down a silly oneshot in a Tumblr draft has quickly become my favorite idea, EVER! PLEASE go check it out and give me your feedback, I'd LOVE to hear it!

[rainecreatesstuff]

So I Wrote Loser, Baby - Reprise, and This Is How It Turned Out

ANGEL DUST:

So things look bad,

And your back’s against the wall

HUSK:

(Spoken) Angel, don’t.

ANGEL DUST:

Your whole existence feels like bullshit

HUSK:

(Spoken) This ain’t gonna help!

ANGEL DUST:

Ya feelin’ filthy as a dive bar bathroom stall,

Look ‘round and see,

That’s the least of it.

ANGEL DUST:

You’ve lost your way,

Ya feel like givin’ in,

Then throw it all right in the bin!

HUSK:

(Spoken) Quit while you’re ahead, kid.

ANGEL DUST:

You’re,

A,

Loser, baby,

We’re losers, goddamn baby,

We’re both,

Fucked up little asshole pricks,

You’re a loser just like me!

We’re both screws-loose boozers,

Two missin’-all-of-our-cues-ers,

Join this power bottom at rock bottom!

Come be my company.

HUSK:

(Spoken) Fuck my life.

ANGEL DUST:

There was a time I thought that no one could relate,

To the fucked up ways in which I’m broken,

But a wise guy told me shit like this can set you straight!

Gotta let your whole self breathe and let some hope in.

-music fades out, ANGEL DUST breathes heavily-

ANGEL DUST:

(Spoken) C’mon, humour me, Whiskers.

-HUSK sighs loudly, music slowly fades back in-

HUSK:

My whole life’s bein’ wrecked,

By a psychopathic freak.

ANGEL DUST:

Hah! A life with no shit ain’t complete!

ANGEL DUST

(Spoken) Sing with me Husky.

BOTH:

We’re both losers, baby,

We’re losers, it’s okay to be a-

HUSK:

Washed-up, old gamblin’ dick?

ANGEL DUST:

Ya know that’s fine by me.

BOTH:

We’re both losers, honey,

Short-fusers, yeah, two dummies,

But at least we know we’re not alone.

You’re a loser,

Just,

Like,

Me.

[villainsally]

What if Centross was sad and gay about it? (Totally canon)

He was slipping in and out of sleep, technically he didn't need to sleep but it was nice, to process everything, to rest. And he kept having the same dream, drinking and laughing at, no, with someone. The only odd thing being, he can't remember their face. He remembers their laugh, the fact that they can't hold their alcohol, and that they're his friend. His best friend. Maybe more? He cares for them but can't remember their name, their face, anything about them. 

He keeps trying to get back to the dream to remember. He'll remember this time, right? He has to remember eventually, right? They were important, he can't forget them forever. With all the knowledge he has to sift through, it may take a while. But he has all the time in the world. He can't die. But they might. 

What if he lost them already? What if they're gone and he can't remember. What if he never remembers and they fade to oblivion? What if he's the only link they had?

As he thinks, the dream changes. He's preening wings, the face of the avian just escaping him. He should remember! 

They laugh, asking him what's on his mind. He knows they said that, but he still can't hear their voice. 

"Nothing, [    ]"

He called them something. He'd said it but it slipped from his mind as quickly as it had from his lips. Violet shook off the odd feelings and focused in on just running his fingers through their feathers. They were bent and broken as if they hadn't been taken care of in months. 

"[         ] not taking care of your wings, [      ]?"

They laughed, the sound sending warmth to his chest and a smile to his face. 

"not all of us can have bony wings, 'tross" they murmur

Its his turn to laugh this time, "true, but you can call me over and ill do this anytime, [   ]" 

He kept running his fingers through their wings, the vibrant yellows and purples sending a pang of nostalgia and melancholy through his chest. They're so close to him. Their head is starting to droop as they seem to be falling asleep to him preening their wings.

"sleepy, songbird?"

"mm, no"

"alright" he says with a faint chuckle. Their head just droops more. "lets move to the nest, love"

"fine"

He picks them up to bring to their nest. He knows where to go as if hes done this a million times. As if carrying them to their, both of their, nest was the most natural thing in the world. They curl into his chest, slotting against him like he feels they have so many times before. He lays with them in their nest until he feels them relax fully in his arms. He kisses their head, murmuring into their hair.

"I'm sorry I forgot"

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

teehee!! This is a rough version but any feedback is welcome and appreciated!

@sage-is-in-fact-very-tired

[dawgri]

Hey Nemopen Nation, I'm currently writing a slow burn for the two disasters so if you are interested and like them I think you should mayhaps check it out, the useless lesbians are hyperfixation bonding.

[un-beel-ievable]

match-up exchange with @bvnnybrains !!

Hi hi! Thank you so much for participating in a match-up exchange with me —I hope that you enjoy your match-up! I can't wait to see who you choose to pair me with! ♡

Your match-up is under the cut!

✧ ═══ ･ ｡ﾟ★: .✦ . :★. ═══ ✧

I'm pairing you up with Lucifer!

You're tiny, something that startles Lucifer when you initially materialize in the Devildom. He attempts to remain aloof about your presence in the beginning, but a part of him worries about how your small stature might fair when surrounded by demons that tower heads and shoulders above you. Many demons were cruel —or at the very least, unkind— by nature, and your status as a Human Exchange Student caused you to stand out in a crowd as it was. Your tiny frame only stood to make you even more of a target. It wouldn't do if you were struggling to get by from day to day because of it. It would reflect badly on his image. At least, that's what he tells himself when he begins going out of his way to keep an eye on you —in spite of the fact that he'd already assigned Mammon to be your keeper. After a few weeks of trailing after you in secret both on and off campus, he comes to realize that you are hardier than you looked. You were tiny, certainly, but he'd been too quick to discount your ability to fend for yourself in spite of your size. You carry yourself with pride and strength, and your unwillingness to lie down and allow others to belittle you is something he can respect. Between that and your determination to constantly learn and better yourself, his worries about how you'll manage in the Devildom have been allayed; he's confident that you'll adapt and overcome, and that you'll do just fine.

Having a large family is something that Lucifer that relate to. After all, he has one of his own. Your devotion to your siblings —so similar to his own feelings toward his younger brothers— is something he adores, and he finds your relationship with your youngest sister particularly endearing. It reminds him of the special bond that he once had with Lilith. As you grow closer to him over time, he finds himself growing protective over your siblings himself —despite having never met them himself. Whenever you return to the Human World to pay them a visit, you always end up having to manage a second luggage that isn't your own; courtesy of Lucifer, it's packed with souvenirs from the Devildom. He hand-picked each one for your siblings, based on the information you've offered up to him on their interests. With his busy schedule, it's hard-pressed for him to take the time off to become acquainted with your siblings in person. From time to time, however, he'll join you at your siblings' sports games through the means of a video call —assuming that you're willing to indulge him by holding up your phone the entire time. He won't take it personally should a day come where you have to put your siblings' needs first; he's the same —family comes first. (This doesn't mean that you're any less important to him. When you became his partner, you became a member of his family.)

Teaches you how to get along with Cerberus when he discovers that you're accustomed to big dogs (Cerberus is...a little larger than your average dog, but still). Cerberus has never taken kindly to individuals who aren't Lucifer, but —perhaps due to Lucifer's blatant favoritism toward you— he seems to like you.

Lucifer learns to love your odder choices in conversation topics. It takes him a while to make heads or tails of what you're trying to convey (What exactly do you mean when you ask him if he'd still love you if you were a worm? Did his brothers put you up to this? It sounds suspiciously akin to the pranks that they'd coerce you to play on him), but the more time he spends with you, the more your nonsensical changes in topic grow on him. He may roll his eyes from time to time, but he finds the earnest manner in which you choose to direct your questions at him rather amusing, and even endearing. And yes: he would still love you if you were a worm. He can't make any promises for if he were to become a worm out of the blue, but should he have a say in the matter, he'd choose to love you again and again —regardless of the form he's in.

Makes an effort to make time for you; between having to deal with his brothers' shenanigans and his duties as a member of the Student Council, Lucifer is an eternally busy demon. Despite this, he makes a conscious effort to set aside time for you and you alone —even if it's only an hour a day. He usually achieves this by waking early in the mornings (something he usually does anyway, whenever he's not pulling an all-nighter) to bring you breakfast in bed. Alternatively, he blocks out an hour in the evenings; the two of you can often be found occupying the library or his private quarters, chatting about your respective days and whatever other topics may be on your minds. On days when he's too busy to do even that, he extends an invitation for you to visit his room regardless and simply be present with him while he works. You're welcome to make yourself at home on the seat beside him, or even seat yourself in his lap as he attends to his work. Just your presence alone is enough to relax him; every so often, he'll lean over to press a kiss to your forehead.

[mournfulroses]

Ernest Hemingway, from his novel titled "A Farewell To Arms," originally publ. in 1929

[castielsprostate]

having talented friends is so wild!!!!!! like. YOU!!!!!!!!!! YOU made THAT. YOU DID THAT?!?!?!?! YOU created!!!! THAT!!!!!!!!!!! WOAH!!!!!! praise!!!!!!!! praise for one thousand years!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[bbyseok]

thinking about teen gojo who’s still learning how to control his powers… and just starts floating every time you kiss him.

you just started dating after he won your heart some time around your first year as jujutsu high students, and there’s not really a difference from when you were friends compared to when you’re now together but—

there are the closer cuddles during movie nights and the spotanenous hangouts now established as dates amongst other things, and of course, the kisses.

funnily enough, it was you who intiated the first kiss, even after his oh so bold and confident claims that he’d be the best boyfriend and kisser, despite never having been in a relationship before.

some might consider that your first kiss with gojo wasn’t so special, but it’s special to you.

it had been a convenience store run he had dragged you out on during the ungodly am hours. satoru rummaging for his newly bought sweets in the grocery bag, his tongue poking out of his mouth. his expression had lit up when he pulled out his candy, eyes flitting to yours and then-

you leaned in to press a quick, chaste kiss to his lips.

his snowy eyelashes fluttered in shock, staring at you like you had just strung up the stars in the current night sky overhead. the dim light from the convenience store casts a glow over your facial features, and it takes him a moment to realize that the curvature of your lips had just been on his. that you had kissed him.

and then he started floating.

you couldn't help but laugh and pull him back down and in for yet another kiss.

and it keeps happening every time you kiss him now. it doesn’t matter what he was doing before, as soon as your lips leave his, his feet leave the floor too — quite literally.

you’d think that he’s doing it on purpose, but he swears that he isn’t! it’s not his fault that his technique goes haywire whenever you bless him with a kiss!

it’s to the point where you’ve decided not question it now, and even the others don’t too.

“suguru and i are going off for our mission!” and suguru watches his best friend lean down expectantly towards you, tapping his lips with a finger, “can i have a good luck kiss, sweetheart?”

and you oblige sweetly with a hum, “have fun, you two. be safe!”

suguru’s hand is already outstretched to tug satoru down to the earth by his jacket once he starts drifting upwards. “c’mon, satoru.”

hell, he’s been half-asleep, still drowsy as you give him a kiss while leaving his dorm early in the morning before you’re caught by yaga, and gojo starts hovering off the mattress like an exorcism is taking place, the thin blanket slipping off his legs.

(“i guess you can say that you really sweep me off my fee- ow!”)

and while it’s ridiculous, you also find that it’s rather endearing.

but god forbid you start making out with him though. you’re not quite sure on what might happen whenever that comes around..

[mischievous-thunder]

Character profile:

Such a feisty pretty thing

[nyaskitten]

Here's an unfinished LMK fic wip lol

[rainecreatesstuff]

AS A HUGE FAN OF BOTH FITPAC+HADESTOWN UR AU IS MAKING ME FEEL <3 NORMAL <3333 who would be orpheus / who'd be euridyce?

okokokokok hear me out here

fit as eurydice, disillusioned with the world and taught to always have your own back, take things as they are, if something’s too good to be true then it’s not.

pac as orpheus, bright-eyed and determined, sees the world for what it could be and wants to make that real.

You know how the song goes.

Fit falling in love with Pac in the spring, things are warm and good and food comes easy. Watching his son play carelessly and laugh and sing. Listening to Pac’s visions of the future and hearing his song, and believing in him full heartedly. They wed in summer, laughter and wine falling from their lips during their first kiss as husbands.

Summer leaves early and faster than ever. Pac focuses harder on writing his song. Ramón is starting to complain about the hunger. It’s cold. Fit loves Pac more than anything. He can handle the hunger, he can handle the cold, he can handle being alone. He can’t handle his baby boy going hungry.

He leaves one day to buy, to find, to steal some food, some firewood, anything to keep his boy warm. He gets caught in a storm. Death approaches him and offers to keep him and Ramón safe and warm and fed. If it had been just him, maybe… but Death’s voice is deep and warm, and the coal mine calls with promises of heat, and the canary follows.

You know how the song goes.

A lot can happen behind closed doors. Fit is not naive. He is hungry. He is cold, and he is lonely. But he is not naive. He signs his life away. Ramón, his baby, is safe. Has no stake to his name.

Pac descends from his office, and the fire is out. Blankets lay on the couch untouched, no coats hang from the coatrack. There is a lonely pair of shoes at the door.

He searches and searches and yells and screams for his husband and filho. The Traveller finally comes to him when he has screamed his throat raw. Rattlesnakes are meant to hibernate during winter. Regardless, he sees his love with the twin wounds left by fangs.

He asks to join them. The Traveller offers a different route. He takes it. He plays his song, he plays it loudly and clearly and with his lyrics he calls to his amô and his filho. He calls to Death and Spring and he cries his sorrows to them. His pain brings Spring to tears and his regret brings Death to movement.

Ramón runs to him the moment they see each other. They cry and hug and Pac will never let his boy go again.

Fit, his love, his muse, is held back by the chains of Death. Pac pleads again with Death. Fit crumbles and cries. Pac twitches as he tries to reach out but can’t.

Death loosens his grip on the chains and Fit collapses into Pac. There is a moment of pure relief and joy and clarity. Fit and Pac are together with their boy between them again. They make each other promises, fix the ones they made as their vows, and begin to rebuild what fell apart so fast the first time. It is warm and safe and it is love.

The moment is short-lived. Death’s voice calls out. The canary flinches towards it.

You know how the song goes.

Ramón is allowed to hold his hand as he leads them out. There is no claim on his life. He never should have been there in the first place.

Fit is not so lucky.

They are steps away. The cold breeze hits Pac’s face from the end of their ascent.

You know how the song ends.

[wanderingxmoth]

siffrin noo that's not how you use an umbrella!!

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Have you seen my little lad?

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[mournfulroses]

Tennessee Williams, from The Theatre of Tennessee Williams; "Talk to me like the Rain and Let me Listen,"

[teddybeartoji]

彡 LOVE BY THE OPEN WINDOW

☆. contains: toji fushiguro x gn!reader; established relationship, fluff, a bit bittersweet in the beginning... very sappy very cute, reader calls him "my baby" wc: 1.9k

toji doesn't understand why you love the rain so much.

he doesn't see the appeal. at all.

everything gets wet, gloomy and dark – he hates the way soaked clothes feel on his body; how heavy they are, how they cling to him. he hates the puddles, he hates having to go around them. and he hates when a car passing by splashes him. it's fucking ridiculous.

he doesn't understand why your eyes are glued to the street below as you sit by the open window. a brisk breeze cards your hair, cradles your jaw; he can see the goosebumps on your skin but you refuse to move. you're holding onto a cup of something (he knows it's tea) and he can see the warmth of it. he watches you raise the ceramic to your lips, he watches you swallow, he watches you take in the heat with a faint smile. droplets of rain litter your bare legs and arms and he thinks about chiding you about catching a cold... but he just can't seem to actually do it.

fresh out of the shower, he stands in the dim living room with a towel in his hand - the only light in the room is coming from the outside and it's not a lot. the sky is painted a hazy, pale gray shade; he can't even see the clouds the water is pouring from - everything above has mixed into one big melancholy blob. the rain thrashes so loudly that it muffles every other sound in the world. it's overwhelming. he hates it.

images of a kicked, sad dog sitting under a sky just like this flood his mind. licking his wounds as the water tried to wash him away; the drops felt like daggers, like sharp little blades, trailing all over his skin. the clothes on his back burned as the cold took over, nothing ever made sense to him. the dog hated how bright it was – why weren't the clouds darker, why wasn't it storming, why wasn't the weather worse? he wanted to hide in the shadows, hide from the stupid rain and the hurt and the shame, to hide from the light.

(memories, not images.)

"toji?"

warm, like the sun. another kind of light. your lips curl around the letters of his name like they're meant to do so and he doesn't know... he doesn't understand why. the rain – ever so gloomy and sad and cold and dark and irrelevant and upsetting and useless and—

"baby?"

a switch goes off in his head and the rain changes into a simple background noise. he hears you loud and clear.

an extended hand, reaching for his – you're as patient as ever, your hand doesn't shake as you wait for him. it never does. toji shakes his head to rid of the images because he wants to see you instead. you're here and that's all that matters. his shoulders relax and he let's out the breath he didn't even know he was holding. you're smiling. you're beautiful.

the background doesn't muddle in his eyes – it's you and the rain. coexisting; the flood won't wash you away like he fears and you won't make it disappear either. and that's okay. he watches you place down your mug and his heart does a little flip when you reach out to him with two arms now. your grin stretches wider, your shine – you want him there, no matter how unbelievable it sounds or seems.

throwing the towel over his shoulders, he sneaks forward. he's not as sour as he was mere seconds ago and you're glad. you've noticed that he doesn't like this type of weather and you understand why.

his mossy green eyes bore into yours as you dig your fingers into his still damp skin. he smells good, he feels anew. while he still feels quite warm from the shower, he sees more goosebumps raise from your skin and he's decided to try and lecture you now, he's gonna tease you about the dangerous breeze, the risk of getting sick. the corners of his scarred lips tug upward and—

"stupid, your hair is still wet. you're gonna catch a cold."

...

you're not really looking at him; fully focused on his unruly, wet strands of hair, eyebrows furrowed as you push them away from his eyes. your tone is caring, albeit a little teasing. he loves it.

he loves you.

he's about to bite back but you're just not letting have his moment today.

a surprisingly warm hand slithers up his chest and around his neck while another hold onto his soft cheek. an unstoppable object meets an immovable force. toji doesn't even have a chance.

you tug him down with the most gentle pull and before he can even question what you're doing – your lips press against his forehead. adoration blooms from the touch; it travels to his cheeks and the tips of his ears, his own lips, his neck, his chest, his lower stomach, the tips of his fingers, his thighs and knees, his fucking toes. it's everywhere. you are everywhere.

the loud "mwaaaaaaah!" that spills from you makes him chuckle; his chest rumbles with warmth and you take the moment to fully cradle his face in your hands. he leans into it, nuzzling into you like a big cat.

"my baby..."

toji hates how much he loves it when you call him that. him – a baby? how ridiculous, how childish, how foolish and naive; he is not a—

"myy baabyy..."

his insides fill with butterflies and his skin burns. the desire to pull away, to look away, to hide, is immense but your hold on him is stronger. he let's you tug him down a bit further, until his head bonks against his – you're looking at him from an incredibly silly angle and he's never felt more at home.

"'m a grown man, stop callin' me 'baby'." he grumbles. like a child.

"i can literally hear your heart racing right now, stop lying tough guy."

you know his act better than he'd ever like to admit. it's scary how clearly you see him. he really doesn't have a chance against you. you're something that grows between the cracks of concrete, slowly but surely growing your roots underneath before sprouting up and reaching for the sky. you hold him together.

in order to distract you from your unnervingly accurate comment, toji pinches your side before pulling you into his embrace. still sat on the windowsill, you let him snake his strong arms around you and wait for him to take his rightful place behind your back. he holds onto you as if you're about to slip away from him but you aren't. and you never will.

more droplets of rain fall onto your thighs and his arms and it feels refreshing. you feel him rest his heavy head on your shoulder and you know that this is the perfect time to introduce him to your favourite type of weather.

hand on top of his, you use the other to grab the lonely, almost forgotten cup of tea and bring it to your lips. it's still warm. after a quiet 'ahhh!', you raise it to his – he drinks it without a word. you know it's too sweet for him and you laugh when he doesn't say anything, just letting his eyes fall shut at the taste with a low grumble. your big baby.

the sound of the rain isn't as overwhelming anymore, it's not deafening. he feels you breathe and he feels the brisk air; the tiniest drops find his face with the help of the wind but they don't sting like they used to.

"look..."

toji gives you a 'hm?' before peeling open his eyes. he looks at you, only to find you staring at the street below again with a pretty smile. he follows your gaze and his hearts stammers. three kids, jumping around in a puddle, laughing so hard that they're almost crying – he didn't even hear them. they're wearing the most colorful clothes toji has ever seen in his whole entire life and they're laughing.

"so fucking cute."

you nuzzle your nose against his cheek while he's still looking at the kids splashing each other. "c'mon, when are we doing that, hm?"

the corners of his lips tug up despite his best efforts to stop them from doing so. he gives your body a aqueeze before murmuring. "y'really are something, huh..."

a toothy grin and another laugh – he doesn't know what he'd do without you.

toji lunges forward, pretending to bite your nose and he revels in the sounds that bubble from your throat. damp hair tickles your face as you try to push him off and the tea in your hand threatens to spill as you squirm in his hold, but he doesn't budge. he nips at your skin and he swallows your laughter like it's the last meal he'll ever have.

"y'wanna go and play in the rain?" kiss. "wanna play in the puddles?" kiss. "y'wanna catch a cold like those kids out there, hm?" kiss.

whatever thoughts plagued his mind before are long forgotten now. the memories are actively being replaced my newer, happier ones and he's glad to let the old ones go. he's fucking elated to do so.

with one final bite-kiss, he steadies his arms around you once more and let's you catch your breath.

"tell me more."

your eyebrows raise and you tear your eyes from the dancing trees outside. "about what?"

"what ya wanna do... why ya like the rain s'much..."

he's just a little hesitant to ask, though he himself isn't sure what he's so afraid of.

(he's scared he won't be able to give you what you want.)

"oh. hmm..." toji feels like a blanket around you and you can't help but melt into him as you answer his question. "i love the sound of it, i think it's very calming."

a hum.

"i love just watching it too, i love watching the puddles grow. i love to watch it soak everything."

another hum.

"i love the fact that it helps the flowers bloom, the grass and the trees. i like how it smells, during and after. i love how the sun peeks from the clouds when it's all done."

toji's eyes fall shut as he listens to your smooth voice. he pictures you instead of a weeping dog – he thinks about you sitting outside, in the rain. he knows you'd welcome it with a bright smile and open arms.

(like you welcome him.)

"i wanna feel it on my skin, and my hair. it's so refreshing. and i really do wanna play in the puddles, toji..."

he hears the pout in your voice and his insides feel warm. it's easy to forget about his past when he's with you; his every single thought involves you, they circle around you and he couldn't be more grateful.

"'n i wanna kiss in the rain. you know, like they do in the movies?"

his voice is smooth, comforting. he's not making fun of you, he's genuinely invested in your wish. "mm, yeah? wanna kiss like yer in a movie?"

"i do."

the rain. it pours and pours. the kids laugh and cheer. you sip on your tea and he hears you swallow. he feels your heartbeat.

"okay."

determination.

a promise.