#so its just for me :) maybe when i'm finished with it i'll make a copy with that info blanked out and share that one

[synthaphone]

google sheets told me how to make tables, so now i'm making a massive spreadsheet of every Pokemon i own across all of my games (i know....)

i'm going through HOME in Pokedex order, and adding other games as it makes sense (like, so far i've recorded VC Blue and VC Gold, since i have hardly anything in those games and they're easy- when i finish Hoenn I'll probably record Emerald), and I'm up to midway through gen 3.

some interesting things i've learned so far:

I try to keep my teams of 6 across all of the games i've played together, and a bunch have been missing- now i'm rediscovering some of these Pokemon i'd forgotten about scattered around my living dex. like oh, my living dex Togetic named Tetris is level 40, from Johto, has a bunch of EVs, and is missing a move- this must have been my Fly Pokemon in SoulSilver

I have used so many Ampharos, Azumarill, and Flygon on teams. Like 3 of each. I had a moment of confusion yesterday when i found out that a level 100 Volbeat that i could have sworn was on my OmegaRuby team didn't have the Hoenn Champ ribbon and originated in Y. I was like. what the fuck so what is the 6th member of my Hoenn team then??? Well. I just reached Flygon and it turns out that the 6th team member was my living dex Flygon, Snakey, who i had completely forgotten about.

i have been playing these games for 17 years.... a few days ago i recorded an Espeon named "Love you!" that was given to me by my sister in 2007 when she was 8 and i was 12, and then yesterday I logged a shiny Wailmer that i caught in Pokemon GO a few years ago, at a Panera that the same sister drove us to, in her car. it feels crazy to me

[fuyuu-chan]

Snuggling To Keep You Warm

Characters: Neuvillette, Kamisato Ayato, Vyn Richter, Jing yuan, Sung Jinwoo (+ some characters you like or you think fit)

Genre: Fluff

Fuyuu-chan: idk why i suddenly stopped posting when i have a lot of fics in my drafts 😭 maybe because i feel lazy lol

✧⁠◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠✧

You just hopped into shower and just started when the water turned cold out of nowhere not to mention in a cold weather. You contemplated for a minute before deciding to continue, no choice as the heater isn't heating the water and you're already wet since first its hot water but it betrayed you so you decided to take the cold shower now. You dry off your body and hair all while shivering. I mean who wouldn't after taking an ice cold shower?

After dressing into comfy clothes and finishing your routine. You went to his office and asked if you could cuddle, he invite you to seat on his lap as he hugged you. Asking what happened.

"I'm cold, I took a cold shower since the heater decided to betray me" you answered.

"Oh? Why didn't you tell me about the heater?" He asked as he brushed your hair.

"Well you're working and I don't wanna bother you" you said as you snuggled.

"Y'know I would drop anything just for you right?" he asked as he held you a bit tight.

You hummed. "Can I stay here?" you asked as you peeked at him. "Of course, anytime besides is that even a question?" he answered as he put your head back onto his shoulder for you to lean on. "Do you want us to go to the couch? It will be more comfortable for you, we could also watch something while we're at it" he added. "Hmm but you're working?" You asked.

"Nah I just finished besides I wanna cuddle you" he answered.

"Okay then" you nod because you love hanging out in his office, its comfortable and the couch too. He carried you to the couch and placed you down. "Stay here, i'll make us some hot drink, it will help on getting your body warm again"

"Alright" you said. He kissed your forehead all while smiling before he left to go to the kitchen. You were playing on your phone when you start feeling cold again, you got up and decided to grab a blanket from your room. You exit his office and was heading to the room when you saw him coming back to the office. "(name)? where are you going?" he asked as he was holding a tray containing two cups filled with hot drink and some snacks.

"I'm still cold, just gonna grab a blanket, you go ahead" you replied as you smiled and he nods. You quickly go to your room and took a blanket before going back to his office. Inside, the tray he was carrying earlier was now in the coffee table, and there he sat at the couch waiting for you while scrolling down picking your favorite show so it will be ready. "I'm back" you said as you sat beside him draping the blanket on both of your laps.

"Welcome back, are you ready?" He said and you nod eagerly. He took both cups handing one to you as he put his arms around your shoulder after playing the show. After watching some few episodes you fall asleep as your head fall onto his shoulder, feeling your head on his shoulder he lean on top of your head as he pulled you closer to him and grabbing the blanket up to both of your shoulders covering the two of you.

ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ

Please do not copy, translate, repost to any other social media, Thank you.

[yesimwriting]

we need more felix and lovie content i miss themmm

i miss them too,, i have so many drafts and half finished fics with them but i've had so little energy/time to actually finish any of them bc of finals

but i'm pretty caught up with school rn (by tuesday i'll be on summer break!!) so here's a bit of an i'm-sorry-for-being-absent drabble :)

The nail of your thumb drags against the edge of the page, finally getting the glue to fully adhere to the page.

You press your back against the wood surface of your desk chair to admire your handiwork. The background of your latest scrapbook page has come together just the way you wanted it to. You pick up the book carefully before turning your body.

"Lex," you beam.

Felix doesn't sit up fully, but he does lift his head. The arm holding up his copy of the latest Harry Potter relaxing. "Oh," he mumbles it in that way that reminds you of one of the things you like best about him. He has this talent for giving attention. Where other people would just be polite without a second thought, Felix takes the time to really look before commending.

He pushes himself up in a way that awkwardly squishes your pillow. "That's good." Felix straightens, legs crossing beneath him. "That's really good, Lovie." His thumb tucks itself between the pages of his book, a make shift bookmark. "The edges, the paper..."

"Thank you." Another thing you love about Felix is the fact that you can always tell he means his praise. You turn forward, setting your scrapbook back onto your desk. "You should make one."

The corner of his mouth pulls itself into a version of a smile that's so soft you almost miss it. "Yeah?" You nod. Felix's smile shifts into something more assured. "Maybe tomorrow night."

You try to picture Felix spending a Saturday night in either your room or his, cutting up scraps of paper and gluing them down instead of at a bar or some party. The thought makes your feel warm in that way that's so exclusively Felix. It also feels blurry, intangible in its unlikeliness.

As happy as it'd make you, tonight was already surprising enough. It's not like Felix goes out every night, and this isn't the first time the two of you have stayed in on a Friday, but nights like these are rare. You can't picture two of these in a row.

"Tomorrow?" You pull your legs out from under your desk, entire body angling itself to the side so that it's easier to look at him. "Tomorrow's Saturday."

He lets out a partial laugh. "And you're dying for a rager?"

"No," you mumble, dragging out the vowel sound in an attempt to sound more sarcastic. "But you like going out." You lean forward, resting your chin against the chair's back. "And it's not like I hate going out, especially with you..." You trail off, eyes shifting away from Felix and towards the bed post closest to you. "And I don't want to be the reason you don't do things you like."

For a beat, the only sound is the low, rhythmic tapping of Felix's pointer finger against the spine of his book. "I like a lot of things."

You lift your head. "I know."

"I like doing things with you."

The warmth comes back with a vengeance. You tap your thumb against the side of your seat for the sake of doing something. "Me too."

Felix shifts, extending one leg to make himself more comfortable. "Good." He's so quiet for a second, you almost think that might be the end of the conversation. You're about to go back to picking out the pictures to finish off the page you'd been working on when he starts again, "So you don't need to worry about me resenting you."

Your eyes narrow. "I didn't say anything about you resenting me." Your chin lifts slightly, an attempt at displaying your indignation. "Why are you saying it like that was an option?"

He grins, dropping himself back onto your pillow. "No reason."

You roll your eyes at his sarcasm. He's the one that came over to your room without being asked to. "Sure."

"What?" His tone implies nothing but perfect innocence. He picks up his book, opening it as if he's done nothing wrong. "Y'should come over here before the resentment sets in and I lose all interest."

You let out a loud sigh, but move to stand regardless. "Yeah, that feels like a real possibility."

When you don't move, Felix glances away from his book. "You're not gonna come over here?" He looks up at you, a hint of a pout playing at his expression. "I was kidding."

You cross your arms, fighting against a smile. "I just stood up." That's not enough to convince him to stop looking at you like that. You take a few steps forward with a sigh that's more out of habit than anything else. "You are so dramatic."

You sit on your bed, crossing your legs beneath you. Felix shifts onto his side. His freehand finds your knee. "You cried because of this book."

Eyes narrowing, you lean forward to get a better sense of how far into the book he's gotten. "Wait a few chapters."

Felix snaps his head in your direction, "Lovie. You said you wouldn't--" Your sentence runs into his, "I didn't--I didn't spoil it."

He frowns, watching you skeptically. "That was mean."

"You started it." You're aware that you sound like a little kid, but you can't help it. With a sigh, you give up, laying down. He's taking up most of your bed, but you're far from uncomfortable. "Fine. I'm sorry."

With little warning, Felix leans forward and presses a kiss against your temple. "Want me to read to you?"

You're used to Felix's random displays of affection, but every once in awhile something will take you by so much surprise you feel it more than you should. You blink. "Yeah," you mumble, hoping that your voice comes out even, "Sounds nice."

Felix shifts onto his back, one hand finding your arm and the other holding his book.

----

taglist; @vader-is-hot @spiritofbuddha @getosangie @freyafriggafrey @ilovehyperfixating @aryiannarae @willowpains @ker0senebunny @lilyrachelcassidy @khxna @imbabycowboy

[whatislovevavy]

Tia Maria and Whiskey on the Rocks

Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x OC (Cherry)

Masterlist

Author's Note: hey y'all, apologies for the extremely late posting, I've been going through some life transitions and finding time and motivation to write has been difficult, but here it is now :) This is part two of Most of Freedom and Of Pleasure, and is apart of @thedroneranger 's Pick Your Poison Writing Challenge with the prompt being Espresso Martinis I'm glad I got to include one of my favorite drinks with one of my favorite songs with a character I love writing for <3 I'm most likely going to do a third part with smut in it, so let me know if that would be something you lovely people would like to read :)

Warnings: Mentions of Smut, Fluff, Alcohol, Pilots catching feelings

WC: 5.2k

All of my writings will be added to my writing side blog @sophs-writing-nook 

This is an 18+ fanfic, so minors scoot pls. You are responsible for the media you consume. Do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate this fic without my explicit permission as it is my own creation. 

Goddamn it. 

You slid the end call button as Phoenix didn’t pick up, fighting with the raindrops that fell and streaked down your phone screen, and trying to keep your jacket secure around your frame that didn’t seem to be saving your red dress from being soaked by the rain. The overwhelming damp and cold feeling seeped into your scalp and made the floodgates that held your tears back crack and crumble all the more. 

You regretted this date, much more than all of the others. 

A shaky sigh left your lips, frustration, and anger forming its potent mix in your mind. 

You tried to keep your eyes on your phone and to stay calm; you didn’t need the people eyeing you on the sidewalk feeling sorry for you. They had nothing to feel sorry for anyway.  You were just a person that had a disaster of a date and was stuck out in the rain trying to get home. Absolutely nothing to feel sorry for. You huffed, tensing your jaw as you found cover under an awning of a bookstore. Trying not to look at anyone that gave you that characteristic look of pity as they walked by. Biting your lip, you contemplated calling the last number you wanted to be calling late on a Friday night. 

Just get it over with, you thought. 

You quickly tapped the call button next to the infuriating little contact icon. Biting into your lip harder, finding the puddle reflecting the San Diego city lights more appealing than attempting to meet any passerbyers gaze as each tone brought you closer to a ride home. Or the teasing of a lifetime. Maybe both. 

“Cherry.”

That familiar silk laced drawl made you shut your eyes and wish anyone else had picked up when you called. But alas, here you were.

“Wasn’t expectin’ to hear from you. I thought you were busy entertainin’ what’s his name, Dylan? Derrick?” 

The humor in his voice brought a hot surge of frustration to the tips of your fingers as you gripped your phone harder, jaw tensing. 

“Look, I’m not in the mood for this right now…” Your voice losing its bite, but only by a little, “I’ve had a really shitty night, and,” you took a shaky breath, the frustration of the evening coming in full force on your psyche, “I need a ride home.” Jake's teasing grin wilted. You never would have called him, unless it was serious. He licked his lower lip, turning to look back at his friends finishing up a game of pool from the corner near the bathrooms, the steadily growing chatter in the bar making it more difficult to hear you as the seconds passed. He rubbed the back of his neck, swallowing. “Ok, sit tight, sweets. I'll come get you, you're still at Benny’s?” 

Your eyebrows furrowed. That’s…odd. You never told him where you were going. The wind and rain made you pull your jacket tighter around yourself. The evening rain makes you shiver, jaw chittering. Taking a deep breath, “yeah, I'm outside,” eyes diverting from the passing traffic to the worn, gold tinged cursive on the window, “Clara’s bookstore.“Your eyes trained on the rain soaked overhead awning dripping to the sidewalk in front of your painted toes peeking from your heels as you waited for his response. 

Jake's eyebrows furrowed, eyes diverting from his phone screen to the rain streaked windows facing the beach. That's a decent walk from where you ate, he thought, eyebrows raising. Must've been quite a guy to make you leave early. And in the pouring rain, no less.

“I'll be there soon, Cher. Are you somewhere safe? Somewhere out of the rain?”

If you didn't know any better, you'd say the insufferable, look-out-for-number-one-only, selfish, arrogant  Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin, who spent each free moment he wasn't peacocking around base, making your nerves burn and fray, sounded concerned about your well being. 

As soon as Jake heard your dreary, evidently rain soaked confirmation, he opted out of the game, forcing Bob to take his place with little to no explanation besides that  a commitment came up,”  striding down the Hard Deck steps to his parked truck. 

He's not ditching you. He wouldn't do that. You repeated what felt like mantras as the minutes ticked by. Hot tears started to brew at the corners of your eyes. You clutched your now soaked jacket over your dress, your toes sinking into the soggy faux leather of your heels as you leaned back against the concrete column of the closed store. The amber overhead lights making warped reflections in the puddles of the buildings and cars passing by.

Your breathing was ragged as you felt the familiar flames of frustration lick at your brain, something that had only stopped when Jake said he was going to go come get you. 

You felt so stupid. Wearing this dress. These heels. Your smudged make-up that, at one point, looked presentable. You just wanted to go home and eat a pint of ice cream. 

God, why hadn't Phoenix picked up?

You clenched your eyes in frustration, a rigid breath leaving your throat as you leaned your head back against the column. 

The familiar hum of Jake's truck brought your teary gaze up to the almost barely visible silhouette in the driver's seat. 

Jake's door flew open, jogging with a jacket clutched in hand. Your eyes widened as he got closer to you, wrapping you up in his jacket. 

By the time he reached you, his hair was drenched, now a more dull golden hue. His charm remained, unfortunately, in the city’s downpour. 

“Come on sweets, let's get you inside.” Your mouth parted slightly. The sight of his shirt clinging to his biceps and broad shoulders, and the subtle scent of sweat, his natural musk, and rain almost made you miss his statement. 

His rich jade eyes traced the soft reflection of the street light off of your soaked hair, to your smudged make up, to the drenched portions of your dress and jacket to your slight shiver you were evidently trying to repress. 

His lips curved into a slight frown. You didn't deserve to be treated this way on a date. Especially not when you looked so-

His eyes returned to your deep brown ones, undertoned by your smudged mascara, finding them already on his; sharper than a moment ago, daring him to pity you. 

He carefully wrapped his jacket tighter around your shoulders, guiding you to the passenger door of his truck, headlights still blinding, and refracting with the incoming rain.

The car ride was silent except for the quiet sounds from the radio. Jake would take occasional glances your way at stop lights, but your gaze remained on the road ahead; head leaned against the side rest of his car, body still wrapped in his jacket. You had to stop yourself from unintentionally cocooning yourself deeper into it. 

“You want me to drop you off at your apartment?” 

You glanced at him, “yeah.” 

His frown curved deeper. Your tone lacked the usual spitfire attitude you always bared him, instead replaced by a sense of accepted defeat. A few beats of silence passed before Jake cleared his throat. “This Dylan guy must've been some date…you want to talk about it?” Your lip quirked up a bit. His name was Derrick, but you didn't have the heart to correct him. 

You adjusted closer to the side of the passenger seat, leaning your head on the window. 

“Not really.” 

There was that same defeated tone again, the one that made Jake's heartache in a way he had never felt before for you. Or for anyone for that matter. 

Jake brought his truck from a coast to a stop in front of your apartment building. His comforting gaze settled on your face, gaze still avoiding his. “Thanks for the ride home.” Your cherrywood eyes met his, giving him a tight smile before grabbing your purse, soaked coat, and leaving his jacket on the leather seat. His frown deepened, jaw tensing a bit as he watched you open his truck door. How dare this pathetic excuse of a man bring you to this state, a complete 180 to how he saw you every day since he met you. 

“Wait,” you looked back towards him, expecting some usual hangman-esque comment that would surely make you throw your soaked shoe at him. “Look, Hangman, I appreciate the ride home, but I'm not in the mood to sleep with you as a ‘thank you’.” His eyebrows pinched. Did you really think that low of him? And in that same defeated tone? “That,” he sighed, “that’s not what I was going to say,” he reassured, pushing his hair back with his hand. Opposing hand still on the steering wheel, watch gleaming in the glow of the radio. 

“Let me buy you some food and a drink, I know you like the Cajun fries at that bar downtown.” 

You were taken aback by the offer. Frankly, you weren't in the mood if this was a joke. “It'd be my treat,” he lightly pressed with a comforting tone. You bit the inside of your lip, examining his face for any sign of ill intent, but you found nothing in his warm sea glass eyes or the defined features of his nose and jaw. 

Cajun fries sounded nice. 

Really nice.

And a drink sounded even better. 

“Plus, I heard your stomach grumbling so you can't lie to me.”  A smile almost broke out across your lips. 

Almost. 

“I don't know, Hang,” you sighed.  The thought of snuggling up on your couch in a warm blanket, with a pint of ice cream and watching some trash reality show sounded appealing. But you were hungry and you had yet to go grocery shopping. And you had no booze.

“I promise, I'll make it worth your while…” 

You bit your lip, “a drink does sound really nice…”

His lips twitched into a smile, eyes twinkling. 

“Don't make me regret this, Hang…”the familiar spark in your voice slowly returned, making his heart skip a beat, “let me just change shoes first.” You grimaced as you remembered just how soaked your shoes were as the rain finally let up. 

“Wouldn't dream of it, Sweets,” he reassured as you left him towards your front door, a concealed smile on your face that cracked with each stride to your door. He let his eyes skim from your bare back to your concealed hips with an appreciative gaze as the red material of your dress flowed around your bare thighs. His view closed off as you shut your front door. 

You let your eyes drift across the interior of the bar at your booth, leaning your cheek on your hand. Jake had left you at the booth to get you a drink. You tried to give him a request, but he left before he could hear you. At least whatever concoction he brought you would be free. You let your eyes drift shut, listening to the sound of the bar top and the music player in the corner. 

“One Tia Maria Espresso Martini for the lovely lady, and the fries are on their way.” You opened your eyes to see the almost onyx colored elixir with a layer of frothy foam in the glass, a triage of espresso beans that looked almost weightless on the foam layer. 

How did he know this was your favorite? You had never ordered them at Penny’s since she didn't have Tia Maria. You looked at him, eyebrows raised, expecting some sort of explanation for how he knew about this. 

“I remember you tried to order one of these at Penny's and thought you'd like it,” he said with a subtle tone of shyness, like he was apprehensive that he had overstepped, making your eyebrows knit together.

“I don't fully understand why you like them,” he teased, stirring his whiskey on the rocks in his glass, an effortlessly charming smile beginning to form on his lips, “but it makes sense.” 

Your eyes narrowed at his playful ones, “what's that supposed to mean?” 

He leaned back against the booth, eyes tracing the pretty features of your face and caramel skin tone, the neon lights above your seat adding to the gleam of your wavy, soft, dark hair. 

Taking a sip from his glass, you tried to focus on his face and not the subtle bob of his adam’s apple as he took a warming sip of the amber liquid. 

“You're kind of an acquired taste,” he took another sip, “bitter, but have a sweet side deep down.” Your eyes narrowed, “I'm not an acquired taste, you're just annoying and insufferable 99% of the time, so you never see my sweet side,” you clipped, eyes slowly sharpening. His lip quirked. To anyone else it would seem like you hated his guts. But he knew better, knew you better. He playfully put his hand over his heart, “Oh, Sweets, annoying and insufferable? You wound me.”  You rolled your eyes, a smile slipping around the rim of your martini glass. The bittersweet elixir flowing down your throat. His grin widened, “there's that smile,” he teased. Before you could quip him back, the root of your culinary desire was placed on the table with a soft tap and a gentle "enjoy" from the waitress. The savory, warm smell of the spices and fries almost made you moan, only now realizing just how hungry you were. You had left your date just as you were barely through your starting salad. 

“Easy there, Sweets, don't want you to choke,” he teased, giving you a wink.

You rolled your eyes at the poorly disguised innuendo, “don't tell me how to eat my fries, Bagman.” 

He barely held back his laugh at what was essentially a growl. He contemplated telling you that technically they were his fries, but he opted to keep them to himself. If having three sisters had taught him anything, it's to never get between a woman and her food. 

A comfortable silence fell over the table as he glanced around the bar and back to you, still picking at your fries. Eyes tracing over the defined round edges of your sinful red colored nails that he tried to not think about how they would feel pressed into his shoulder blades, to your necklace that dipped teasingly between your breasts. The subtle rise of your chest. The sprinkle of freckles and gentle flutter of your eyelashes on your cheeks. The touched-up mascara on your eyelashes. The soft flush of your cheeks. The cute curve of your nose. The gentle slope of your lips. 

“You listening?”

His eyes shot to your own, his face a bit pink after having been caught. 

“Of course, Sweets,” 

Your eyes narrowed as you put your fry down in the basket, scoffing. 

“I asked,” you leaned forward, arms crossing on the table, his eyes doing their damnedest to not dart down to your cleavage, “why you brought me here, because I don't buy it was only because my stomach was making noises.”

Your tone wasn't sharp or accusatory, but it still put him a bit on edge. 

He took a deep breath through his nose, trying to get comfortable in his seat. You had a habit of putting him on edge, but in a way that made him crave more. It was almost adrenaline inducing. 

“Just wanted to treat you a little, that not allowed?” 

His collected, charismatic answer made you narrow your eyes. 

“You're not a very good liar.”

His lip quirked into a grin, diverting his gaze down to his empty glass before bringing his warm eyes up to your own again. His grin settling into a thin line. It wasn't exactly a lie.

“I didn't want you to wallow on your couch thinking about that Danny guy. You don't deserve to feel that way.” 

Your eyebrows rose, lip quirking. That definitely wasn't the answer you were expecting and it was still the wrong name, again. 

His eyes dart away from yours to the bar top. Clearing his throat, “you want another martini?”

You blink, breaking your thoughts, toying with the empty glass,  “yeah, I'll take another.”

Your eyes followed the way his body moved under his button up shirt that exposed a delicious amount of chest hair, and his worn, rich burnt sienna leather jacket. The way his stride exuded a rare sense of carefree confidence. The broadness of his shoulders under his jacket. The thickness of his fingers around the delicate glass of your martini. The way his golden locks of hair reflected the overhead lights of the bar and various neon signs on the wall you both were seated at. 

It made you almost forget that you knew what it felt like to have his bare skin against your own. It made you forget, for just a moment, that you’d been fucking this man with no strings attached. 

“Here you are, Sweets,”His smooth drawl derailed your train of thought that would have surely made you clench your thighs. 

He placed the martini on the table with an almost silent clank against the table, eyes bright and playful, the rich green color added by the neon cloverleaf above his head. 

Your lip quirked, “thank you…. You know I don't like it when you call me, Sweets, Hang.”

A smirk grew on his lips, “I think it suits you,” his gentle gaze on yours. 

You scowled, trying to repress the smile that threatened to break through. He didn't need more encouragement to call you these…you wanted to say demeaning titles, but that felt a bit cruel. It was more like a pet name, a source of teasing that wore your nerves down faster than any other trick he had in his well developed arsenal. He'd always been something akin to a wart. Once you caught him, he was hard to leave. 

“Fries any good?”

You looked down to the near-empty basket to his teasing features.  A small smile broke through as you gently pushed the basket to him. After all, he did pay for them.

You watched as he took a few and brought them between his perfect teeth, eyes darting between the sight of him dipping a few more in ketchup, to picking at your red manicured nails. A comfortable silence fell over the table and quiet conversation followed, from what plans were set for their work colleagues to hang out next, to whether Bob was going to ask Admiral Simpson’s new secretary out.

“I don’t think he’s gonna do it.” Jake said confidently as he leaned back against the booth, his arm over the back, his other hand holding his near empty glass of whiskey. Your eyebrows rose, feeling a bit more loose and warm since first sitting down, mostly attributed to the fact you were finishing up your third martini. You cracked a smile, eyes comfortably heavy, “you don’t know Floyd very well then.” His eyebrows rose, encouraging you to go on. You leaned forward, eyes bright and intense, just how Jake liked them, “you do know what Bob stands for don’t you?” His lip quirked, eyes bright and mirthful, “of course, baby on board.” You took a sip from your glass, rolling your eyes at his typical cocksure tone, “No, it stands for…” His brow quirked waiting for you to finish, his grin starting to form as he watched your eyes dance across the ceiling looking for the words in your impaired state. 

You leaned forward closer across the table, putting your pointer fingers up, biting at the inside of your cheek, losing your battle with the grin that wanted to gleam on your face, “it stands for Big Ol’ Balls.” His own laughter bubbled up in his throat as he watched you crumble into near hysterics at what had just left your mouth. 

His laughter settled while yours continued, failing to do anything else but just listen to the sweet noise. He had heard your laugh before, but he’d never had any significant part of bringing it out of you. He let a smile grace his lips at the sweet noise. As your laughter died down, he let his eyes wander to the jukebox in the corner and the thinning out crowd at the bar. He bit the inside of his cheek, the creases of his forehead showing as he listened to the song emulating from the speakers. 

“Do you wanna dance?” Jake asks, not fully thinking about the question. 

Your espresso martini almost did a full stop in your throat. Tonight had been a series of firsts with Hangman; sharing fries, him buying you drinks, and seeing you in your romantic element. Dancing together was an oddly intimate first. Sure, you’d both fucked each other’s brains out almost every other day, but dancing, well, dancing was something that seemed to be a step further than that. It didn’t involve a physical closeness attributed to taking your frustrations out on each other; it was two people flowing together, not trying to wrack each other’s physical resolve. It completely contradicted the original purpose of getting physically close to this insufferable, arrogant man; an outlet for pent up frustration through deeply satisfying, carnal escapades. 

Before you could stop yourself, you nodded. 

He rose up out of the booth first with a squeak, offering you his hand. Your deep brown eyes looking up at him, then darting to his outstretched hand, your lips parting. 

This was new, uncharted territory.

“I promise I won’t bite,” he reassured with a smile. He tried to not think about the way your red dress hugged your curves so deliciously, or how your cleavage almost spilled over the top of your garment. You had already had three martinis, and were definitely feeling the effects of them. He didn’t want to make you feel pressured into anything that you both typically took part in when you were this close physically. But he still wanted to be close to you. 

You bit the inside of your lip and, for reasons only God could tell you, you took his hand. 

He led you to the corner near the jukebox that was otherwise mostly emptied out. The beginning of England Dan and John Ford Coley’s I'd really love to see you tonight flowed from the speakers as Jake settled his hands on your waist, your own apprehensively around his neck, keeping your body upright as you let the initial beats flow through you in your relaxed state. His evergreen eyes traced over your melted brown ones, admiring the subtle flush of your cheeks to your low, lidded eyes. 

Hello, yeah, it's been a while

Not much, how about you?

Your eyes darted around his face, avoiding his eyes that seemed to solely focus on your own. His hands squeezed your hips. In attraction or comfort, you couldn’t quite tell. 

I'm not sure why I called

I guess I really just wanted to talk to you

You should have felt more alarmed by the close proximity and unorthodox reason behind it, but, and you didn’t want to admit it, the proximity felt nice. Maybe it was because of the drinks? It had to be  because of the drinks.

And I was thinking maybe later on

We could get together for a while

One of his hands left your hip to softly, ever so softly, to lift your chin up to meet his eyes. “What are you getting shy about?” The gentle smirk on his lips paired perfectly with his rich green eyes.

It's been such a long time

And I really do miss your smile

You swallowed, eyes trapped in a jade coated trance. “I think I just had too much to drink.” His lip quirked at your soft, almost whispered tone, holding you as you both swayed to the music. He knew you could hold more alcohol, but didn’t press. 

I'm not talking about moving in

And I don't want to change your life

He brought you closer to him, resting his head against the side of your own. Savoring the soft smell of citrus from your hair and the warm skin of your lower back against the palm of his hand, and the silk texture of your hand in his own. 

But there's a warm wind blowing, the stars are out

And I'd really love to see you tonight

This felt like the most alien and natural thing he had done with you. It almost made him forget that within only the last few hours, he was fucking you against the hunter green lockers, feeling you cum on his cock. 

We could go walking through a windy park

Or take a drive along the beach

He tried to not ruin the delicate moment he was having with you, and he figured his dick pressing into you might make you forget about all the good the night has brought between you two. A larger part of him than he cared to admit didn’t want to go back to the no-strings-attached arrangement he’d had with you for the past few months. 

Or stay at home and watch TV

You see it really doesn't matter much to me

He wanted more moments like this with you. But he could feel the apprehension that, as much as he didn’t want to admit, was mostly attributed to his reputation. In the months since first feeling you fall apart under him, he hadn’t slept with anyone else. Not even the desperate tag chasers in form-fitting maxi dresses at the Hard Deck. And that had to count for something. 

I'm not talking about moving in

And I don't want to change your life

He couldn’t help the pang in his chest; you were definitely open to dating other men. Could he really change your mind about him? 

But there's a warm wind blowing, the stars are out

And I'd really love to see you tonight

You had to admit, if someone had told you months ago that you would be slow dancing with Hangman in a nearly empty bar, and you wouldn't be trying to claw his throat out, you would have told them they’d been breathing in too much jet fuel. As much as you hated to admit it, it felt nice and, dare say, comforting being here with him. 

I won't ask for promises

So you don't have to lie

The soft texture of his jacket, warm hold, and soothing scent around his neck made you sigh. It was different from his usual mix of jet fuel, sweat, bergamot, and cedarwood. A part of you really hated how anything looked good on him and that he smelled amazing in whatever scent wafted off of him. 

We've both played that game before

Say I love you and say goodbye

“I’m sorry your date didn’t go well tonight,” You gently leaned back from his head, eyes meeting his own. Your eyes drooped comfortably as you looked over his face, trying to detect any sense of pity or ridicule. But all you found were warm, soulful, malachite eyes looking back into your burnt sienna ones under the neon lights. If your mind was clearer, you’d say it was romantic. But this was Hangman, and what he did best was no-commitment hookups in the dead of night. Not romance. It would take more than three martinis to make you forget that. 

I'm not talking about moving in

And I don't want to change your life

“Yeah, me too,” you muttered before leaning your head back on his shoulder. He swallowed gently, afraid that the movement would disturb you. 

But there's a warm wind blowing, the stars are out

And I'd really love to see you tonight

Jake continued to hold you close as slow songs continued to ebb and flow from the speaker, one after the other; trying to not let his mind drift to how this would play out tomorrow in your more sober mind, until he could feel your weight grow heavier against his body as you swayed gently. 

“Hey, Sweets,” he whispered against your hair. You hummed, eyes fluttered closed. “I should get you home.” You hummed in agreement, not having the strength to fight him on the pet name. Your sequoia-colored eyes peeking open, making him smile. 

He settled the tab, placing his leather jacket around your shoulders that wrapped you in warmth and the soothing smell of cedarwood and cinnamon. 

He walked you back to his truck, opening the door for you and making sure you were settled before closing the door. 

The car ride back was silent as you tried to stay awake, listening to the slow country song on the radio, your eyes drifting shut. The smooth stall of the truck made your eyes flutter open. Jake gently reached out to you, gingerly rubbing the knuckle of his forefinger against your exposed forearm to get your attention. You flinched at the unexpected, soft, almost non-existent contact, body tensing. “We’re here, Sweets,” his gentle tone letting your body ease back into the seat. 

Before your mind thought to open the door, he was already on the other side opening it for you, and offering you his hand to step down. It was truly unfair how good he looked under the streetlights outside your apartment, with his unbuttoned shirt, sunglasses hooked in the front, and slightly disheveled hair. It made you wonder how you came to hate this man in the first place. But then again, hate was a strong word and maybe he didn’t deserve to have it placed on him. Maybe it was only because of the three espresso martinis he bought you, tinting your vision of who he was tonight. 

Jake didn’t ask if you wanted him to walk you to your door. He held your hand gently in a way that seemed unusual for him as he walked with you up the stone steps to your front door. “Thanks for tonight. I really needed it.” His face broke out into a soft, sincere smile, “anytime, Cherry.” Your lips tugged into a smile, diverting your eyes to the house keys in your hand. His eyes couldn't stop drawing to the strand of dark hair that kept getting in your eyes. Your gaze shot to him as he let his forefinger sweep the hair behind your ear. 

“You deserve to have fun every once in a while.”He murmured, eyes tracing over the fine features of your face and the rich color of your hair under the porch light. His soft eyes brought a certain warmth that you'd never experienced with him. 

You gave him a smile, as you fiddled with your keys, fighting off the blush that threatened to break through. 

“Do you think,” you swallowed, “that you could not tell anyone about my really shitty date?” Jake, putting on a small smile, nodded, “yeah, of course, Sweets. I mean, I think I did a pretty good job at rectifying the experience.” 

His gentle, carefree smirk made your lip tip up into a small smile and shake your head. 

You let go of his hand, resisting to admit that you missed the contact already. 

“I’ll see you on Monday, Hang,” you bid farewell. 

He watched with a gentle smile and warm eyes as you closed the door behind you, giving him a soft wave. 

His lips pursed, morphing back into a smile as he walked back to his truck. The night seemed to fulfill him more than all of your trysts combined.

It had to count for something that you didn't ask him to never mention your... date? if he could even call it that...

You leaned back against your shut front door, a smile on your lips that he had never brought past your lips. 

Maybe it was only because of the three espresso martinis and this haze would lift in the morning, and he’d go back to being Hangman. 

Or maybe, just maybe, he truly wasn't as bad as you thought. 

People who may be interested <3

@roosterforme @sebsxphia @mamachasesmayhem @withahappyrefrain @entertainmentgirl80 @teacupsandtopgun @seresinhangmanjake @goldenseresinretriever @sailor-aviator @hello7442 @gigisimsonmars @yepyeahuhhuh @tess-lecter-blog@hookslove1592 @86laura11 @seresinsbrat @isabelstardis @shamelessghostwagonwobbler @emma8895eb @taytaylala12 @kmc1989 @h-ngm-ns @hangmans-wingman @marvel-hotchner @nemesis729 @a-lil-bit-nuts @justagirllivinginaghibliworld @mizzzpink @themusingofagothicsoul @potato-girl99981  @a-beaverhausen   @callmemana@joalslibrary @peachiicherries @whiskeyswriting @jkbindigo11 @princess76179 @clancycucumber230 @chaoticassidy @superskittles @cherrycola27 @cheekymcgrath @djs8891 @novastories@urmom-999 @zombicupcake3 @catsficrecs @abaker74 @kmc1989 @hangmanshoney @caidi-paris @i-wanna-be-your-muse @shara-ne @memeorydotcom @memoriesat30@shanimallina87 @whoeverineedtobe @slippinginto-theairwaves

[the-kr8tor]

OKAY I JUST WANNA SAY IM NOW BIBLICALLY OBSESSED W COWBOY HOBIE

AND NOW I NEED COWBOY HOBIE DOING THE HAT RULE WITH THE READER THANK YOU AND GOOD NIGTH

This prompt got me giggling and kicking my legs 😍😍😍 thank you, ly ❤️

Pairing: Cowboy! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, Cowboy AU, Western AU, CW drinking, CW suggestive, lovestruck Hobie, FLUFF.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

Watching you attempt to square dance is like watching a chicken run without its head.

Hobie watches you with a smile hidden behind his glass, amber liquid sloshing inside. It's his first glass of the night and he's sure he won't be needing another one when he's already drunk off of you. On any day he would've finished the entire drink in less than a minute or two, but his eyes and lips have been occupied with watching and smiling at your plucky dancing.

The bar is incredibly crowded, smoke from cigars invading his nostrils, music blaring in his ears. And the dance floor is completely full but that doesn't stop you from twirling all over the polished wooden floors; giggling and smiling at your friend who's trying her best to keep you from smacking someone on the face with your wild limbs. Hobie blames all the sugar from the sweet tea you've been consuming.

He places his glass next to your guarded ones, his palm never left the rim of it, determined to keep you safe. Chuckling, you make your way back to him, sweat covering your forehead, breathing heavily from all the dancing. Despite all these, the giddy smile on your lips never left.

“I'm back!” You stop in front of him, all smiles and skin warm. The yellow overhead lights make your eyes sparkle, like a man dying of thirst, he can't help but drink all of you.

“I can see that.” Hobie casually pulls you in by your jean belt loops, knees knocking on his own. “Had fun?” he looks at you through his lashes, eyes crinkling in the corners.

“Mm-hmm!” You nod fervently, he stops your movements with his hand on your jaw before you make yourself dizzy. Your cheeks are incredibly warm. “Thank you for bringing me here, neighbor.”

He chuckles deeply, eyes never leaving yours. “Shit, we're still on those terms after everythin’ we've been through? Do I have to make myself clearer or does velvet need to push us together again?”

“Making the horse do all the work again.” You click your tongue without malice. He has no idea how but he grins wider. Holding to the lapels of his old leather jacket, you lean closer to his touch.

“Dance with me? Please?” You blink your pretty eyes for emphasis.

Hobie cranes his neck closer to your face, breath fanning across your lips. You close your eyes, waiting for the sweetest thing to graze your lips.

“Nah.”

You open your eyes to a smirking Hobie, he takes a sip of his drink, teasing eyes staring at your flustered face.

You scoff, blinking rapidly. “The nerve.”

“I told you I don't dance.”

“Is that so?” With a burst of confidence and adrenaline still coursing through you, your hand flies quickly to his hat, taking it off from his head to place it on your own. “Look at me I'm Hobie Brown and I don't dance. See? That's you. Ridiculous, I know you can dance.”

Hobie closes his eyes for a second before downing his entire drink in one gulp. With an exhale, he squeezes your hips. “You'll be the death of me, love.” he flicks the brim of his hat to see your eyes better. “You have no idea what you've done do you?”

You smile sweetly, leaning closer, taunting him. “What if I do know? What are you gonna do, cowboy?”

For the first time since you've known Hobie, he stutters. “H-home, I'll go home” he clears his throat, composure coming back to his senses. “Maybe you'll join me. Only if you want to.”

“After everything we've been through,” You copy his own words. “do you think I'd say no?”

Hobie smiles, coiling his finger around your belt loops, leading you out of the crowded bar. His hat is still on your head, holding on to his wrist, you let him guide you.

[moongoopy]

The Fingernail Issue

c: gojo wasn't told of toji having a sibling leading him to wonder what kind of brother toji fushiguro was

c/w: Reader is adopted here, modern au, fluff, Toji's family are not a bunch of assholes, Reader is Toji's adoptive sibling, platonic and crack and humour ig

a/n: thought about this while making potato chips

"You have a sibling!? Why haven't you told us?"

"There was no need."

Toji slurped his noodles, ignoring the groan that he got from Gojo Satoru. Being in the same club with Gojo Satoru and a few other extras proved to be quite fun. He thought joining the basketball club with egocentric people would be infuriating but in this little group he managed to make friends suprisingly. He let Sukuna take his shrimp while he shrugs, right now; Gojo was quite adamant on getting to know his kid sibling that was in the same school as him, just two grades lower than him.

Geto slips in a joke if he wanted to court them or something since the white haired male next to him who was currently miming a camera with his two hands. Just the thought of another Fushiguro gave him the heebie jeebies, he was already offputting with how crass his personality was, his sibling would probably be the same. He gagged to Geto's comment, his hand on his chin when he thought about it.

"Unless, your sibling isn't a carbon copy of you and is way more better than you.."

Sukuna waved his hand to deny that sentence with a smirk and it received a nudge from Toji, they had this whispering thing they had going on to keep secrets away from Gojo and they giggle like two middle schoolers finding out about a dirty secret.

"Oh so you've met them, Ryoumen?" Nanami sipped his coffee, he had his notebook infront of him, consistently taking notes since he'd miss a day of school and its already biting him in the ass. The pink haired male shrugged, copying the same move as his friend that made Gojo click his tongue to.

"If you don't like them, why are you even curious?"

Gojo defended himself, "Its not that I dont like them, I barely met them. Its just that.."

Without noticing he painted an image of you even before seeing you in the flesh so maybe you weren't that bad. Gojo just cant imagine Toji having a sibling, would he be a doting brother? A strict one? Geto had stated stuff about dating and he barely batted an eye so it looked like to Gojo that Toji didnt really care about you but the next words that Toji said irked him.

"You look like you have a lot on your mind, Gojo. Mind sharing?"

Toji finished his noodles but thought of leaving some of the soup at the bottom, thats where all the seasonings sink to. Knocking his chopsticks into the bowl, he leaned forward to hear what Gojo had say. Gojo was the type to walk past the obvious and it was funny. Seeing THE Gojo Satoru struggle was entertaining.

"Nah, I'm good, I'll just see them myself." He bit on his lollipop, crunching up the last bits down his throat.

"Good luck finding them then," The black haired man got up from his seat with his tray and Gojo gasped. He hasn't even finished asking questions but knowing him, he loved avoiding questions like some personal torture he lets people go through.

"I'm bringing my mom to the clinic so I gotta run," Toji gruffly said, grabbing his jacket and he was so fast to slip away.

"Hey! Are you sure you're not using that as an excuse again? Me and Suguru legit saw Mrs. Fushiguro doing laps the other day!"

"Even did some cardio too.." Geto chuckled, remembering how Toji's mom proudly confessed how she had done a lot of stuff in one day. It made him smile while Gojo was sulking like a poodle beside him. Sukuna cleared his throat from eating and cleaned his plates up. He glanced at Gojo mischeviously.

"Well.. if you want to know one thing.." Sukuna dragged the silence a little longer before chuckling. "They're a bit of the same."

Sukuna too walks away, waving slyly to meet up for practise soon and Gojo scoffed. That sleazy bastard thought that information on you was new.

"That was sooo lame."

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

Toji had his hands on the wheel, listening to his mother talk about what should they have for dinner. In between talking about your favourites and if his dad was gonna come home, she recalled the days where you first came home.

Mama Fushiguro liked recalling this a lot and when many people were bored by this tale by now, Toji showed interest. He didn't admit though when he finally had a kid sibling in his house, he was actually pretty elated. The house was quiet on its own with himself but with you, it was like he had a friend.

When you are adopted, his peace wasn't disrupted at all but it was like yours was. You were in a completely new environment but not unfamiliar. You had been fostered before but he didn't pry into your past, there was no need to he thinks. It was normal for you to be distant even if his parents try to pry you out your shell like a cat with its nails stuck on the walls. You claw back to your comfort and wasn't all that talkative.

He didn't force you to talk or advise you on anything because it was clear you could handle yourself, you just like to keep to yourself more than his parents. But knowing this doesn't make the bond between you and him all the more stumped. He did attempted to eventhough his mother would nag about how it was barely anything; calling you down for dinner wasn't talking and hell, task dividing either!

Going to the same college didn't made you two any closer. He thought asking you about school was corny and didn't bother, he didn't really think much of it. By the tired look in your face, it was more than enough to know what you've been through but he was sure you stayed out of trouble because he made sure of that.

He took his usual route back to the car but realise you were a bit late. You weren't usually tardy, he was and even so you would still wait for him out of courtesy. He spun back around and thought of fetching you in an instant. Maybe now was the time he would open his mouth and talk to you.

There was a bit of a ruckus in one of the classrooms. If he didn't had sharp ears then he would've walked right past but that was one of the subject classes you attend and peeped in.

It was horrid.

He saw a bunch of hooligans messing up your notebooks and scraping it against the ground with their shoes. He recognized some of them as they squat at your level and taunt you.

It was some people in his fan club or whatever and he heard bits of how someone this puny couldn't be his sibling. You were clutching onto a bag and it wasn't just your bag that you were concerned of, the laptop that his parents gave were in it and the bag slides clean off and you were only protecting the laptop with your life. You didn't mind your keychains being ripped off and tossed about but amongst the stomping, the laptop was clutched tightly in your arms.

"Hey!"

His shout boomed across the room, shocking even you. You looked up to see your brother and he looked about ready to rip into the bullies with his bare hands. The group turned pale when they saw that their idol had caught them in the act of tormenting his little sibling and bit their tongue as their knees wobble.

The details of the lecture/threat of Toji wasn't heard as your ears buzz with fear. His touch made you snap back to reality, his rough hands helping you up gently and you wobble in your place.

"Holy shit.." You exclaimed in a huff to which he looked at you in an instant.

"You're really fucking loud when you're mad."

Silence settled to which the both of you laughed at in few seconds. This was the first time you didn't feel akward and commented so honestly. He patted your back and pick up your stuff, though soiled; atleast you were only shaken but unharmed.

The walk back to the car came naturally albeit a bit of limping in your step, you had twisted your ankle while running to catch the laptop before the others did and it sparked hellfire in Toji. His main priority now is atleast offering a crumb of comfort and heard out your reasoning for portecting a device rather than your skull.

"We could always buy you a new laptop,"

"I like the one now."

"Its not worth it breaking your skull in to protect it though."

To be honest, it wasn't about liking it. Just the big smiles on your adoptive parents' faces when they urged you to open the gift they bought you, it made your eyes all teary.

You weren't adopted before but you had to go through mean foster parents that had too much on their hands and that led to negliance to your needs. That led to several arguments and got you sent to the adoption center and it broke you, just the thought of connecting with another family made you numb.

But this family was so gentle with you. Even when you showed that there was no need for such kindness yet it wasn't that they coaxed you out of your shell but that they were so tender through their actions.

Toji notices the tears and scratches the back of his neck, he didn't read this in the big brother dummy book to know what to do if his little sibling cries. You had a distant look in your eyes before you realised you had reached the car with him.

Thankfully, both parents didn't notice the missing schoolbag or the agitated state that you're in. They were all smiles and Mamaguro was powdering on her face so it meant a family outing tonight.

You couldn't help but panic when you try to think of an explanation of your missing bag but Toji butted in on his parents conversations.

"Hey, Y/N wanted some ice cream before dinner, is that okay?"

Toji blurted out all of a sudden and you so badly wanted to deny it but he dug a deeper hole for you when the two agreed so quickly. They were excited that you finally requested something in a while and the car swerved to the nearest convenience store. Your brother adjusted himself in his seat, taking out his earphones and leaned a bit closer so the two infront won't hear.

"No worries, there's a store that sells bags beside the convenience store."

You huffed out a breath, your mouth feeling so dry and nodded to his words. He was a life saver.

Toji remembered how jittery you were when he suddenly made up some shit about you wanting ice cream that he couldn't help but chuckle outloud. The light from your eyes almost dimmed when you thought he would snitch on you. He parked close to the clinic, turning his back to grab an umbrella incase it rained. His mom pouted to his sudden chuckle and sighed.

"What are you laughing for? You're not ditching practise, yknow? You're going after you send me off at the clinic."

"Huh?" His mom showed a text conversation between her and Geto and scoffed. The lengths that man bun would go to have him show up at practise. That damn milf hunter-

-----------

"Hands up if your name is Y/N Fushiguro!!!" The class erupted in some noise upon seeing the popular duo stand near the doors of their class. When you heard your name being called, you reluctantly raised your hand; recognising who these two were.

The duo's faces fell for a moment, choking. Oh, you were adopted? Not in an offensive way obviously but Gojo might've heaved a sigh of relief. Atleast you weren't a splitting reflection of your brother, that would give him nightmares! Geto on the other hand realised why Toji would hide such a fact, an element of suprise if you will. He thought the two of them wouldn't find you out in an instant, did Toji thought so low of them? You raised a brow, wondering what they wanted.

They watched you walk out the classroom and Gojo adjusted his glasses. The graphic t-shirt and the style you had was a sublte influence from your brother.

"Well, well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes?"

You had the exact relaxed expression like your brother except you slowly turn weirded out, why were they ogling you like this?

You took time to observe them head to toe subtly while Gojo yapped about the tale of how Toji didn't reveal that he had a younger sibling, they were lean and muscular and they had this obvious good cop bad cop duo energy. The white haired man sounded visibly upset that you were kept as a secret from the rest, was this some kind of facade to get to know you better? You shifted to one foot to another, stopping the music playing in your earpods and cleared your throat.

"Do you want to get with my brother or something orrr...?" Gojo didn't get to the point so you went straight in but due to their reactions, you might've miscalculated. Tilting your head, you pointed at Geto's painted nails and the earrings he had.

"And you.. are you two like gay or something?" You put your hands in defense, talking quickly before they get the wrong idea, "Hey, I don't discriminate. I just barely had any fans of my brother be male sooo..."

For once in their lives, Gojo was speechless and Geto had his eyes wide open like crazy.

One thing was for sure, anyting that was the apart of the Fushiguro family was a complete nightmare.

[zarvasace]

Shatterproof four splitting and all the colors spend their day with different other links? Maybe Blue with Wind and Wild, Vio with Wars and Hyrule, Red with Time and Legend and Green with Sky and Twillight! (just suggestions, you can mix and match them up maybe?)

I like these suggestions! :)

Just under 1k words—

---

“On your mark,” Wind says, “get set…”

Blue glares at the grassy ground, his muscles taut and brimming with energy. It's been several long weeks since Four split, and he's pent-up. Beside him, Wild’s heel shifts against the ground. 

“Go!” Wind slashes his hand through the air, and Blue and Wild take off. 

The route isn’t long, just across the clearing and back, so Blue is optimistic. It feels so good to stretch out, even if his pain is at a mid-level today. His feet pound against the tall grass and the hard dirt beneath, and though he tries, Wild pulls ahead. 

On the way back, Blue’s foot catches in a divot, and he goes sprawling. He scrapes his elbows but manages to stop himself before he flies too far. The world stops rolling. He stares up at the cloudy sky and sighs. 

Wild skids to a stop. “Blue! You okay?” 

“Fine,” Blue calls back, rolling up to sitting. And then, with a secret thrill of joy that he would never hold over any of the others’ heads, even if they know he feels it, he stands up. “I think I'm just out of practice. And your legs are longer anyway, freak, so you have an unfair advantage!” 

“Hey,” Wild protests, but he laughs. He hasn't made it to the other end of the clearing yet, worried for Blue. Wind raises his eyebrows when he meets Blue’s eyes. 

Blue walks calmly over, letting himself limp just a little. He laughs along with Wild. “It's just been a while since I ran, that's all.”

“Yeah, okay, I'll give you that,” Wild shrugs. 

And then Blue takes off again. He runs the last five or six steps to their designated finish line. “HA! I WON!” 

“Now that's unfair!” Wild says, jogging over. 

Wind collapses into laughter. 

---

At this point, after so many lessons and a lot of practice, Vio is only slightly better at signing than Hyrule. He's very happy for Hyrule, of course, but it does rankle his pride just a little, so he takes up Warriors on his invitation and joins the next little lesson. 

As he observes Warriors and Hyrule have a half-silent conversation, it becomes obvious that their communication is less about learning actual sign words or grammar and more about figuring out how to adapt it for the two of them. Everything Warriors says has to be in contact with Hyrule’s skin, one way or another, so Vio doesn't catch most of that. 

But Hyrule’s signs are pretty normal, since Warriors can see them, except for one thing. 

“That—” Vio starts, then bites his tongue.

“What?” Hyrule says. “Was that wrong?” 

“Um, only in that your spelling is… off.”

“It doesn't matter,” Warriors shrugs, hands flying. “I've figured out his phonetics.”

Vio makes a face. “Wars says it doesn't matter, he knows what you're saying anyway, but the perfectionist in me is frustrated.”

Hyrule laughs. “Sorry. I haven’t ever, you know, learned letters before. I figured I was getting some of it wrong.”

“You know,” Vio says thoughtfully, thinking back to his books at home, “I know there's a type of writing that was developed by people with low vision. I don't know much about it, but I know it exists in my time. I wonder if we could find some of it.”

“Oooooh,” Hyrule says, his eyes widening. 

---

Red picks another dandelion at the base of its stem, close to the ground. “And then you use your fingernail to make a little slit by the flower, like this! You can't make it too big, though.” He demonstrates, smiling at the way both Time and Legend lean in to see better. 

“And then…” He slides the stem of his next dandelion through the hole in the first. “Ta da!” 

“So pretty similar to a normal wildflower chain,” Legend says, copying Red and starting a dandelion chain of his own. “Do you ever put knots in it?” 

Red hums, considering. “No, I think these stems would break. They're tough but don't bend very well.”

“Sort of like Legend,” Time says, smiling. 

Legend huffs, but he can't hide the little smile of his own. “Sure. Whatever.” 

When Red finishes his dandelion chain, he loops it around into a crown and drops it right on Legend’s fluffy head. Legend returns the favor, putting his own dandelion chain on Red’s head, except it's a bit too wide, and it falls to his neck instead. 

Legend’s snort-laugh starts off a round of laughter that Red and Time can't easily shake. 

---

Twilight pulls out the shopping list again, adjusting his hold on the bag that sits over one shoulder as he does so. “So is that everything?” 

“Hm?” Sky says, looking back over at Twilight. “Oh. Yes. I think so.”

Green catches up, weighed down a little by a supply pack of his own on his back and the fact that even using crutches, he’s a bit short. “Wait, no, Wind needs a belt, and I need some more brass rivets.” 

Sky snaps his fingers. “Right, rivets! Hey, Wind didn't say anything about a belt… did he?” He glances at Twilight, who shakes his head.

“Wars keeps inventory,” Green explains. “And I noticed.”

Twilight puts away the shopping list. “Sounds like a trip to the leatherworks, then.”

Green eyes Twilight as he passes. “You could use a new sword belt, too. Let's see if they have anything with the D-rings. If not, I'll make one.” 

“Thanks, Green. What would we do without you?"

"Suffer."

[writtenbyshama]

Long Way Home [Part III]

[Azriel x Reader fanfic]

Synopsis: Y/n is the daughter of a healer in the city of Velaris. After a small incident, she moves to the House of the Wind to work for the High Lord, Rhysand. Everyone in the house seems to welcome her except Azriel, the second in command. Even though he is just blankly polite and does not acknowledge her much, she can't help but fall for him. Does Azriel return her feelings or remain unfeelingly aloof?

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Read Part 1 here.

Read Part 2 here.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Part III

A few months later, Star fall was to commence soon. 

Excitement was in the air, and I was looking forward to it too. Rhysand and Feyre were going to host a party, and preparations were already underway. Everyone pitched in to help between their usual duties, chattering about the outfits, the food, song and dance.

Mor and Feyre repeatedly asked me about my outfit for the event. I remained evasive, since I had no plans of actually attending the party. I'd be watching the sky from elsewhere. Even though I helped with the preparations as if I was going to attend, I was gradually emptying my quarters and shifting my things to an isolated property outside the city. This property was situated in a river valley backed by the large mountains surrounding Velaris. It was an inheritance passed down in our family, and I had remodelled the villa and the gardens with the help of my dad. It was a perfect place to avoid others, and I loved it very much. Father, on the other hand, didn't like to be alone for long periods of time and didn't visit it much. 

While I was still in the process of shifting my things, I started sleeping less in the nights. I stayed awake at the kitchen table with a hot cup of tea, working my anatomy drawings or study notes. The one thing I'd miss when I left was the library, so I tried to make extensive notes and copied important paragraphs from the books I read. 

One night, I decided on a change of scenery and took my materials to one of the many balconies, making myself comfortable on the thick carpet. As usual, I had some tea in my favourite cup and lots of lamps to illuminate my work. 

I had placed the tea-cup along with a glass jar of coloured pencils on a side table so that I wouldn't accidentally knock them off with my elbow. Leaning against the balcony railing, I was copying a detailed anatomical diagram of an Illyrian wing in my journal. 

A sudden gust of wind knocked over the table and shattered the tea-cup and glass jar. I jumped, dropping my journal as I watched the carpet soak up my drink and pencils scattered everywhere. My favourite cup was broken to fragments. 

Azriel appeared before I had the time to think what to do next. 

"Oh, sorry," he pointed at the shattered pieces.

I sighed. The glass jar could be replaced, but the tea-cup was from one of a collection set of my mother's. It hadn't broken into very tiny pieces, though. Maybe I could put it back together, even if it couldn't be used. I could use another cup for drinking and keep this one back in its shelf. 

I unfolded a drawstring pouch from my pocket and gathered all the pieces. Azriel helped by collecting the remains of the glass jar and the scattered pencils. The tea stain on the carpet couldn't be helped.

He didn't leave immediately after we finished, so I offered him a cup of tea while I brewed some for myself. He accepted, and soon enough, we had our own mugs of the hot liquid and sitting next to each other on the balcony floor, looking out into the night.

He cleared his throat. "That cup was important to you."

I nodded. A tendril of his shadow flickered near his neck, and slipped out of sight. "It's from a set that belonged to my mother."

His expression dropped from his usual polite blankness. "I'm truly sorry. If there's any way I can help fix—"

I held up a hand. "It's alright. I'll fix it by myself later on."

I was curious as to why he had appeared here. He had never actually come to a place I was in out of his own volition. I asked him about it.

He did not give a direct answer. "You weren't there in the kitchen. I was looking for you everywhere."

I fell silent, turning over his reply in my mind, unsure of how to proceed. Meanwhile, he laid down his mug and picked up the journal I used for sketching. This journal in particular was just pages and pages of anatomical Illyrian wings with the parts labelled and side information. I had drawn them in every possible angle and technique I could think of. 

He slowly thumbed through the pages, his own wings slightly trembling in the breeze. 

"These are really accurate," he commented as he stopped at one of the pages. His eyebrows went up, and I leaned over a bit to see what he was looking at. 

It was a shaded sketch of a pair of hands, with the palms turned up. And they had scars on them. Azriel's hands, which I had drawn one feverish night from memory. Fuck. 

I straightened, cupping my own mug with both hands and intensely staring at it, determined not to face him or acknowledge the drawing. My ears and neck turned hot with embarrassment. He stayed on that page for a long time before closing the journal and carefully keeping it on the carpet between us. 

"Why the wings?" He asked after a while. 

I shrugged. "I miss having them."

"What happened?"

I narrowed a side glance at him. "I'm sure you know what happened."

One corner of his mouth tipped up. "I do. But I'd like to hear the account from you."

I shrugged. "Nothing much to tell. Father was sent on a mission. Mother was already dead by that time and he had to take me with him since there was nobody else at the time to look after me. The task went wrong, and the enemy soldiers ripped off both our wings and left us to die. Only, we were somehow revived and brought back to life. It was quite a while before I learned how to properly balance myself without my wings."

"This was during the war, yes?"

"Yes."

He turned to me and gave me a once-over. "Your mother was not Illyrian."

I nodded. "She was a high fae from the Summer Court. It's a thing in our family's ancestry. We come from a long line of powerful healers, and not all our mates are Illyrian. She survived my birth, even with my wings, but she died during the second along with the child."

Noticing the sadness that crept into my voice, he changed the subject by pointing at my journal. "Why my hands?"

I blushed, turning away from his inquisitive gaze. "I find them beautiful, that's all."

He opened his mouth to reply, but stood up abruptly, his head cocked to the side as if listening to something. 

"I have to go."

Going like this only meant one thing. "Is Elaine in need of help?" My voice sounded strange to my own ears.

He was on his way to one of the archways, and halted mid-stride. "Yes. Why?"

I shook my head, motioning for him to leave. "It's nothing. Go on. Don't let me keep you."

He took a step towards me. "But—"

"Just go."

He left.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

I took a nap right there on the carpet until the early morning rays warmed my skin. When I was awake, I started gathering all my things to go back to my room. Cassian appeared and waved at me as I stood up, my arms weighed down with the books and the empty mugs. 

"Good morning, my chicken soup."

I laughed. "Morning, Cassian."

During my stay, Cassian had once fallen ill with a stomach problem and wouldn't eat anything and spat out the medicine. I mixed all the herbal concoction in some chicken soup, its flavours masking the bitterness of the herbs and fed it to him until he was better. From then on, he started calling me his chicken soup and always came to me in case of injuries and other illnesses. 

He took some of my books and started walking me to my quarters. "I've fetched you breakfast, its in your room."

"Thanks."

When we reached my room, we unloaded our things on a table and I sat on a chair, keeping the breakfast tray on my lap. He took a seat on my bed and thoughtfully chewed on a piece of fruit. 

His wings were gently fluttering and I couldn't stop staring. 

"How does it feel to fly?" I asked in a low voice. My wings were ripped before I could do so.

His eyes softened. What happened to me and father was not a secret, everyone knew about it. He suddenly grinned as if he had a great idea. 

"What if I show you, instead of describing it?"

I didn't know what to say. "Um, I don't know, I'm a pretty chubby woman, I might be too heavy for you to—"

He groaned dramatically. "Oh, come on. I will be put to shame if I can't carry you!" He stood up. "Finish your breakfast. I'll take you right now."

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Tags:

@kalulakunundrum

@thelov3lybookworm

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Read Part 4 here.

Thank you for all the responses to my previous two parts of the story!

This fanfic can also be found in Wattpad, along with other exclusive parts like playlists and pictures. Here's the link: https://www.wattpad.com/story/358573037-long-way-home

Happy reading! <3

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

[ohcorny]

Hi!! I’m the person who did this Lucy fanart for you like.. 3 years ago now? Time flies!

So after I finally got my hands on the physical copy of volume 1 I patiently waited for volume 2 to come out, until I caught up with all of what remained of Never Satisfied after chapter 5 and I won’t lie, it was sad to know that its journey had come to an end too soon. But damn it was good! /lh

I still love your works a lot. So much must’ve happened in 3 years and boy I know I already said it in the fanart post, but I can proudly say NS is still being part of my life. Started it when I was 14 and now I’m 23.. I related a lot to some of the characters throughout these nine years and they’re still so dear to me (Rin hottest mom award for real omg)

I don’t have a fanart for Lucy as I intended to before I wrote this message sadly, but just know that NS was a big part of me growing up. If you ever, still plan on having volume 2 printed out you’d have 1 assured buyer lol

And of course I will check out all of your new, more recent works!! I love your art dude!

(So sad I will never know what was under Lucy’s eyepatch haha)

Take care! 💚

ougegh the passage of time. you were 14... it's so obvious that teenagers would read my YA comic about teenagers but it's always so weird to hear about it with specific numbers. you are now older than i was when i started making it (i was 21)

i'm really glad it could have meant so much to you...... and i'm sorry to have ended it early u_u i'll say it's very very unlikely i would ever put out a volume 2. there's just no reason to, when it would be a forever unfinished series. if i ever go back to NS, it would probably be a reboot. or maybe i'll pluck the characters out and use them somewhere else. dunno! it won't matter for several more years, when i've finished the new series.

please do read hunger's bite when it comes out! it's very much in conversation with the same subjects as NS--and there's a couple easter eggs for NS readers :]

[thedemonscrawler]

what does your writing process look like?

8D hello!

Okay so step 0: become haunted

Invariably, a scene manifests in my head, and the longer it sits there, the stronger the urge to write it becomes. Not all scenes make the cut-- there's a lot of ideas that don't meet my standards of IC, and others that would be good, but require more work to develop than I'm willing to invest. I'm avoiding working on any intentional multichaptered fics until Permission Slip is finished, so those ideas stay on the shelf.

Usually the tipping point is when I realize I've worked out the specific wording to start writing it down, and then it's all ogre.

Step 1: write

I go to the appropriate file (all of my SAMS fics start on one of three documents: Eclipse-focused, Ruin-focused, and NSFW. Permission Slip is all in its own file as well), pick a spot between the existing WIPS, and write down the scene that's in my head. Usually there's multiple by this point, and I often end up with about 1200 words of 3 or 4 scenes as a starting place. About half the time I'll go back and add a brief summary, just to keep track of what it is I wanted to do, but I've found that extensive outlines actually discourage me from writing, cos my brain is like "oh you already did it"

Step 2: write some more

The 3 or 4 scenes I've written have gaps between them, often pretty big ones, so I just fill in those gaps with more scenes. Over and over, until there are no more gaps. This can take anywhere between a couple of sessions to several months.

8'D and yeah that's it. Give it a good readthrough for errors and publish to AO3.

I don't write sequentially. Instead, i move from most to least interesting, writing whatever scene happens to be in my head and filling in the gaps later. I've found that the tough bits will always be tough, and I don't want to fight through them to get to what I really want to write, only to no longer be interested by the time I get to that part. This doesn't work for everyone, and some folks do better when motivated by the reward of writing the good bit.

Google Docs has an Outline feature, so each WIP gets at least a temporary title so i can navigate to it easily. For Permission Slip, I also use the outline to move through the chapters without a lot of scrolling, giving the active sections little names to keep up with them.

Permission Slip also DOES have an actual outline... kinda. Actually, it has two. One is a general outline of events over the course of the whole story, kept in the 'notes' section of the document. The other is the short, scene-specific outlines that get jotted down for each section. A multi-chaptered fic is really just a bunch of oneshots, if you think about it.

General advice:

Keep a 'Graveyard' document of all the scenes you've cut. It's so much easier to admit to yourself that something isn't working when you know it won't be completely deleted, and you can go back later and maybe yoink some stuff off the cutting room floor.

Share tidbits with your friends on Discord. Write a little section you think is particularly good? Copy+paste it and share it with someone you know will cheer you on!

[herearedragons]

wip game!! what's up with The Breach (here we go again)? 👀 (I'm picturing the 'ah shit, here we go again' meme lol)

-inquisimer

elfjdejlkWEOFLIJDWAIL OKAY so The Breach is my DA:I longfic that has been haunting the narrative of this blog since August 2023 when I jokingly went "what if....... Dragon Age cosmic horror". it has gone through Iterations since then, the Iterations being me taking inspiration from Candela Obscura and Dracula Daily and vaguely PeriodTM-flavored horror in general and trying to make it into a story with all 4 of my Inquisitors as the protagonists.

I have finished my first draft. it's 50k words. it's also. Not Good because I rushed it because I was doing NaNoWriMo and I went "okay! I'll just edit it later!"

Chat I Could Not Edit It. I took one (1) look at it and went "oh god this needs to be redone from scratch". and thus Draft Two was born, and I got about. somewhere between halfway and two thirds in before I burned out and became plagued with Maybe It Would Be Better If Done Differently again.

the doc in question is where I started halfheartedly cleaning up what I have of Draft Two as I ponder how I should carry on with this thing.

excerpt!

Warning

This file contains copies of documents used in the investigation of the killing of Her Holiness Divine Justinia and others on 28 Drakonis, 9:41 Dragon.

Access to these materials is forbidden for all but Inquisition agents with the rank of “Falcon” or higher; violation will be severely punished.

Cloudreach, 9:33 Dragon

From the interrogation of May Cadash. Transcribed from shorthand for the reader’s convenience. Describing events from Cloudreach 9:33.

Present: May Cadash (suspect; 37 y.o. female dwarf), Seeker Cassandra Pentaghast (interrogator), E. Clay (stenographer)

CADASH: It was the first time I was in charge of a shipment.

It was a large one, and it wasn’t just lyrium. All of the cargo on the train was ours; there were no outsiders. It should have been easy, and it was, until the train stopped dead in its tracks in the middle of the Frostbacks and would not move again. We - 

SEEKER, interrupting: The ghost train from Cloudreach 9:33 was carrying Carta contraband? And you were on it? You were in charge of it?

CADASH: They did call it that later.

SEEKER: I swear to the Maker, if you think this to be funny - 

CADASH: I’m not lying.

CADASH touches her pendant of the Maker’s Bride.

SEEKER: …Continue.

CADASH: To this day, I don’t know what happened. The engine just broke down and couldn’t be fixed. We were stuck there for good, and there was nothing to do except wait for a rescue.

CADASH is silent.

SEEKER: Well? What then?

CADASH: I’m sorry.

Five hours after the train stopped, we spotted something large walking outside. Taller than the train cars, with horns. We huddled up with guns at the ready, but it didn’t come near us then. Half an hour later it, returned with a friend.

They tore through metal like paper. I don’t think they even felt our bullets - 

[deeptrashwitch]

Promise of a vengeance

This one-shot happens during Severed Ties and Ghost Killer. And this is an inflexion point for J.J as a person and as part of the Ghosts.

Taglist (just to show :3): @alypink @stuffireadandenjoy @snootlestheangel @islandtarochips @spookyrares

@cynicvice @midnight193 @mutantthedark @justasmolbard @welldonekhushi

@tapioca-milktea1978 @imagoddamnonionmason @stargazing-sapphire2 @milkteaarttime @blacktacmopsi

@maymaylyn @thatonesillyducko @seraphiixiao @me-is-confused @gunnrblze

"How are you feeling, kid?" Keegan asked her when he noticed her looking at the landscape.

"Sad, tired...angry." J.J murmured with a sigh.

"I can guess, but hey, Merrick is guiding the Walker brothers. They'll be fine, and by the end of this, Rorke will die finally."

J.J laughed tiredly. "I hope you're right, Keegan. What will you do when Rorke and the Federation fall?"

"Who knows? Maybe find a place to settle down, a reconstructed city."

"You? Sounds nice."

"And you, kiddo?"

"Go back home, or stay, I'm not sure yet."

Before Keegan could answer, their radios cracked to life and put them both alert. They shared a look and got near the path they had at their right, staring at the desert while they awaited for orders. Soon, Merrick's voice became present.

"J.J, go to the nearest explosion site. Hesh and Logan are alive, I need you to find them and give them first aids while extraction team arrives to their positions." Merrick ordered with a discrete sigh.

J.J nodded towards Keegan, then went to steal a vehicle while she opened the coordinates on her watch. "Copy that, on my way to them."

It was some minutes before J.J saw the explosion site and as soon as she hopped down, she noticed Hesh's unconscious form. As she ran towards him, she also noticed the drag marks as well as the trail of blood. She attended Hesh's wound first, worried by his panicked expression even in that state.

"What the hell happened to you? David? David! Wake up!" She muttered, worried. "C'mon! Please wake up!"

She tried to wake him up while she attended his wounds. Without a doubt, she turned his location so Merrick could send the medical team, or at least someone to rescue Hesh.

As soon as she finished, something called her attention. Logan's gun was on the sand, charged, and near it there was a well known knife. A shiver went down her spine at that.

"Merrick, here J.J, you copy?" She said through radio, making sure David was okay one last time.

"Send traffick, J.J, I hear you."

J.J started to run and turned on her location for them to find. "Hesh was wrong, Rorke isn't dead."

"Excuse you? Repeat that."

"Rorke is alive and he has Logan." She informed as she ran up to the mountain. "I'm following a trail of blood that seem to be his or Logan's, my location is on."

"Don't you even try-"

"We need Logan back, one way or another." She said before cutting the comms and turning off her radio.

J.J kept running for a while until she noticed a figure that was dragging another one. Her blood run cold when she noticed how Logan was already unconscious, then a rage took over when she saw Rorke. Without really thinking, she shoot and the bullet passed near Rorke's head and made him look back.

"Leave him, Rorke!" She shouted with a frown.

"Look at that, the little bird finally opens her wings." He mocked her, raising a gun. "What a shame that you aren't a hunter yet."

Then he shot, and it was so precise that it passed through and through in J.J's leg. She fell to the floor with a scream, and even then, she grabbed her rifle and tried to shoot again. To her surprise, even after the shot he seemed to have, Rorke was quick to leave Logan and get near her.

He kicked her wrist to make her loose the rifle, then grabbed her face to force her to look at him. To his amusement, her eyes were now frozen as she stared at him.

"Now you're just like Mario." He said with a smile, taking her knife form its stash. "What a shame you don't have his experience."

"Mark my words, Rorke. I'll kill you, even if it's the last thing I'll ever do." J.J promised, staring at him with a frown.

"You aren't even a Ghost yet, what can you do to me?" He asked, putting the knife point a bit higher than her eyebrow. "And what makes you think you'll even reach me when I finish with your friend over there?"

J.J's eyes darted to Logan's unconscious form, then back at Rorke, shining of fury. "Don't touch him, you-"

"Keep this as a reminder, I won't kill you and you won't even get near me. That boy will find you first, just like I did with your father."

And right before J.J could even glare at the man, Rorke slashed down her eye. She let out a bloodfreezing scream as her other eye filled with terror and rage, all while the blood ran down her face. Then Rorke leaned to turn on the radio, and immediatly Merrick's voice started to ask for her status.

"Come find her soon, Merrick, before she bleeds out." Rorke said, while he smiled coldly at J.J

"What did you do, Rorke?!" Merrick shouted furious.

Then, with a movement, J.J took out a hidden knife and tried to stab Rorke's face without success. With an angered scowl, he let go of her face, kicked her wrist again and then took his gun, pointing at her.

"Let's make this quicker for me."

"NO-!" Merrick shouted, just before a shot echoed through comms.

J.J screamed in pain as the bullet passed through her shoulder, then Rorke smiled a last time and walked away. All she could see was Rorke grabbing Logan's leg and start dragging him again, all while she tried to crawl to stop them. While her head spinned due to the blood loss, she managed to hear Merrick telling her that Keegan was on his way and that Hesh was evacuated.

She extended a hand towards the distant figure of Rorke and Logan, then the weakness and cold took over her. With a thud, her head fell on the ground and as she panted in pain.

Then, she fell unconscious.

[lowlywriter]

Hey! I've almost finished reading Yuuei Survival Guide (two chapters left 👀) and I wanted to ask if you would be ok with me binding it into a physical book? Or maybe multiple haha its probably too long for one! It would just be a single copy for my personal use, and I would never sell or make any money off it in any way. I'll post my progress on here too! Bookbinding is just one of my creative outlets/hobbies.

If not that's totally ok, I understand! Either way thank you so much for writing it, this work has really become near and dear to me, and I'll probably go back and reread it once i've finished lol! It quite literally ticked all of the boxes and more, and you wrote all of the main characters so beautifully, eg I was never really a fan of Hitoshi in canon, however I now adore him both in and out of canon!

Keep writing, go beyond, Plus Ultra etc, and have an amazing day! 💜✨

Hello!!

I don't mind at all if you want to bind your own copy, so long as there's no profit being made that can get me, or you, in trouble! I get wanting to have a physical copy, and I know others have asked to bind the fic as well, I'd love to see your copy (or the process)! Fanfiction is just such a touchy subject as is :( But anyways, I think book binding is super cool!

I'm glad to hear you liked the fic! It was definitely one of the longest fics I've made so far, and I'm extremely proud of the story is came to be, so I'm happy people are still loving it as much as I am! I hope you like the ending when you get to it!! Playing around with the character was fun, and I liked trying to tweak it so there was something for everyone when it comes to their favorite characters! Giving Bakugo a redemption arc (sorta) and messing around with Hitoshi's character was super fun since he's so sarcastic :P

Anyways, enough rambling from me! Thank you for reading, and I appreciate the ask! I'd really like to see your copy of the fic! Plus Ultra to you as well, and have a great day/night! ����

[maythedreadwolftakeyou]

WIP Wthursday

meant to post yesterday and then forgot bc of who i am as a person so, whoops. anyway, current state of affairs

embroidery:

absolutely 0 progress on the Hermit since i last posted it in like mid september. whoops. i WILL finish this thing by veilguard i swear but for some reason it's just grueling every step of the way. meanwhile, i'm banging out this mini version of The Tower in like 4 days. I want to post the pattern/thread colors I made for my big design, but i feel guilty selling a pattern for a piece where i hand-dyed at least 5 of the colors involved. So I'm making a second version with only commercially available colors as an alternative (and a slightly less saturated background), and I'll include both color guides as options.

haven't made any new digital designs/patterns since the last one of the qunari dialogue symbol. considering making a new one for another piece of art to copy out, but currently unclear on how to get the proportions for the frame accurately copied into photoshop because I want to try an oval frame instead of circular so... yeah. we'll see.

writing:

went digging through my old WIPs folder and found a k!meme prompt fic for Lavellan getting hit by a truth spell that I'd basically almost finished and then just... completely forgot about I guess? it's a silly premise and under 15k so it must have just poofed from my brain when I moved and lost track of all my then-projects.

           Just the memory sends a flush down the back of her neck, her heartbeat skipping inside her chest like a stone over water. She can almost feel it, even here, her legs aching after a days of travel. The warmth of his body against hers in the cold air of the mountains. The unexpected passion of their kiss, the pressure of his lips crushing against her own, driving all other thoughts from her mind.             The way just beforehand he’d still hesitated, almost tearing himself away.             That’s the real problem, she thinks to herself, as she tries to ignore the wet slapping noise the drenched fabric of her robes makes with every step. She just can’t reconcile the intensity of his words with the way he keeps drawing himself back again. Every time she considers making another move, she can’t help but think that maybe it will be what convinces him she’s not worth the trouble after all.             Ar lath ma, he’d told her, despite it all.             She has no idea how to respond to something like that.

the first two and final chapters are entirely finished, while 3/4 are more disjointed segments that need some fleshing out. but i'll probably just go ahead and post the first bit soon because why not. maybe that'll push me to clean it up faster. i'll also be honest. half of this fic is like... the prompt premise, and the other half is just. me wishing i was out backpacking. i wrote it the summer of lockdowns when i went from working outside 5 days a week to bedroom WFH prison, and its funny rereading now like. oh yeah so i was going fully insane about not being the one camping myself, huh.

Anyway. otherwise I also started another new short thing for my still currently nameless No-Longer-Lavellan from reunion, but it's only a couple hundred words and some vague notes so far. Not sure if I'll turn it into something more polished or leave it as general musings. I wish I could draw better because I have way more concrete visions for visual art for that whole scenario but, alas.

[burgersnacksformax]

Scout and an age regressed reader being silly !

Notes

Gender neutral reader

Sfw age regression, DNI if kink

For some reason when I'm regressed I really want Scout as a cg, so here

After a long day, Scout offered to let you have a sleepover in his room. He had to admit, he quite liked taking care of you when you were little - it made him feel accomplished, especially as youngest sibling who didn't often get the chance to take care of others.

You both had dinner together, and he told you to wait in his room while he made a mad dash to yours to get all your favourite plushies.

You saw paper, a pencil, and an eraser on his table, so you plopped down on his chair and got to scribbling. On some papers had elaborate drawings of guns and the other mercs, which you could only assume were drawn by Scout. On papers with empty space, you drew whatever came to mind - little flowers, stars, you even tried drawing Scout!

With a quiet squeak of the door, the man in question had just come back, his arms hugging a few plushies. "Sorry that this ain't all of 'em-" he kicked the door closed with his foot, "I figured, some of them would taste the floor in the morning."

You turned to him, still holding the pencil. "Taste floor?"

"Yeah-" he carefully yet still somehow ungracefully plopped your plushes onto the small bed, "cause they'd prolly fall."

You glanced over at the paper on the table, before holding it out to him. "Drawed Jeremy."

He came a bit closer to get a better look at it, a big smile spreading across his face. "Aww, you drew this just for me? Look, and you'se even decorated it!"

You nodded with a sheepish smile.

"You! Are! The! Sweetest!" He put the paper down and picked you right up off the chair, lifting you way up before flopping you onto the bed.

You giggled excitedly, barely having the time to regain your bearings before he started blowing rasperries into your neck. You kicked a little while trying to push him away, a big grin still on your face. "Jeremy! It tickles!"

"Alright, alright." He leaned back, taking a stuffie at random and holding it up to you. "You've got lotsa choices for who to snuggle tonight."

You reached your arms out to take the plushie, giving it a big hug, before sitting it to the side comfortably and reaching out to him. "I want Jeremy cuddles."

He stared at you for a moment, a big grin spreading on his face. He then came closer to your face and made a CHOMP sound, pretending to take a bite out of your cheek before pulling away and making chewing noises.

You stared at him with wide eyes and a huge grin. "Did you just eat me!!"

"Yup. You were just too cute, Sweetcheeks. I felt like I had to eat'cha right up." He continued chewing, looking to the side as if in thought. "Mm, you're tasty! Much better than the dinner we had. Maybe I'll just.." he leaned closer to you again, and you pushed him away, giggling.

"I'm no food!" You beamed up at him. "You're food!" You copied his actions, leaning closer to take a pretend bite out of him and making chewing noises.

"Ahh!" He was soon giggling along with you, grabbing onto one of your plushes and holding it between you and him. "Protect me!"

You took the plush, putting its face close to his and making a chomp sound. "It says yous tasty!!"

"I've been betrayed!" It was then that he got a smug grin on his face. "Hmm, maybe I just have to finish eating you before you can finish eating me!" Scout wrapped his arms around you and held you firmly to his chest as he made a chomping noise at the top of your head.

You tried to wriggle free, but he just kept on chomping. "Nooo!!"

He chuckled, eventually relenting and letting you go. "Mm, that was a great dessert."

You sat up, still smiling at him. "I'm not a dessert!"

"What? But then how come you're so sweet?" He leaned closer to give you a kiss on the forehead, before pulling you to lay down with him.

You peeked up at him, your head on his chest. "I'm a sweets?"

"Uh, duh." He pinched your cheeks gently. "You'se like, the sweetest, cutest little thing I ever saw. And I ain't exaggerating."

You giggled and kicked your feet happily, hugging him tightly. "And Jeremy's the sweetest and bestest caregiver ever!"

"Awww," he hugged you back just as tight, nuzzling his nose against yours. "C'mere, you!"

With Scout around, this was undoubtedly about to be the best sleepover ever!

[withered--s0uls]

Taking the Nuzi Kids Hungergames as my sign to post these all together

Intertwining/Intertwined Codes Timeline Kids - this may contain spoilers for the kids if I ever get motivation to revamp the joke fic

Feel free to ask me stuff about them, I'm too lazy to actually type out all info about them in this >.>

Rexim & Orita (twins)

You can find info on the twins in this post

I don't want to retype or copy paste all that lol.

Their Teen Designs are like 16ish! Their Child Designs like 4-6!

Zagi & Raven

They are like a day apart in age. They didn't know about Ravens existence until the day their programming finished developing, meanwhile Zagi was built and programmed using the regular canonverse USB method.

They're both about 5 years old :3

Annika

They technically knew her since she was a young kid but didn't adopt her until her pre teens. I haven't really made a younger design for her bc it wouldn't be much different aside from her joint count lol.

She's like 16-17 here (yes she's older than the twins!)

I might redesign her bc I feel her fit is too basic and doesn't reflect her age properly :" but I absolutely HATE my current attempt at it so we sticking with it

Olivia & Ray

And last but not least, the newest family addition (despite coming up with Raven after them, these two were adopted after Raven and Zagi booted up!)

Olivia is a similar age to Raven & Zagi, maybe a few months younger. But she tries to act more mature than them most of the time (trauma response).

Not much to say about Ray. That's a baby. Idk if I'll ever give him a body design. If I do then probably alongside doing a redesign for Annika!

Timeline of Events

Between Ep 4 & 5; The twins programs develop and are put into their pill baby bodies

Ep 5; Technically when the incident that causes Ravens program to develop happens, but Ravens program does NOT develop yet

Post-Canon;

The twins get their first bodies, after a good while Nuzi discuss adoption & start bonding with a still young child Annika to build trust.

Rexim is established to be unable to balance on worker legs so Uzi builds him legs based on Ns to give him more surface to balance on

Annika is adopted around the same time Zagi is being built (making Ann like 11-13 then). The twins get their teen bodies. Ravens program starts developing

Orita builds herself DD arms, Rexims main camera breaks

Zagi is finished, they find out about Ravens System. They still kept both twins pill shells so they upload Raven to the second one.

Zagi & Raven get their bodies.

Nuzi are on a mission to do some stuff with Outpost 06, only to run into Olivia and Ray who are being attacked by a different DD team. They intervene and whilst the other DDs give N an ear full for "crossing territory" Uzi gets the kids away and to safety. Later N reunites with them and they find out what happened to the kids parents and to outpost 06.

They take them back to outpost 03 to keep them safe, the orphanage wing is basically too full so the siblings kinda get shuffled around between Nuzi, Khan & Thad (Olivia is terrified of N and some of the other Nuzi kids so it's a mess)

Ray gets attached to Nuzi, its unhealthy for a baby to be separated from attached adults & he already lost his code parents. So now the siblings kinda just have to stick with Nuzi. (Accidental adoption lol)