#the writing process is not satisfying to me

[robinsfilm]

ROUGE IN HIS HANDS

PARING: jason todd ✗ fem!reader ;

SYNOPSIS: jason 'n reader dance at a gala (result from voting) ;

RATING: smut with fluff ;

WARNINGS: clothed sex, p in v, oral fem receiving, oral sex, reader and jay have an obvious oral fixation in this, cum eating, public sex, switch characters, mutual orgasm ;

WORD COUNT: 3.3k ;

NOTES: i went off with this one. i don't usually write fics this long, but i don't know what came over me. wrote 14 pages and half of it is smut. during the writing process i had in mind a jason and reader who have been partners for a long time now, so sex is something they've explored, so he's more open in this specific work.

✹ ꕀ MASTERLIST & NAVIGATION & AO3.

THE SILVER BEAMS OF MOONLIGHT POUR THROUGH THE GLASS WALL, COVERING THE ROOM WITH AN OTHERWORLDLY HUE. Cool and polished, the marble wall gleams under the light, its smooth surface marbles with veins of smoky silver and hints of gold. Tonight, Wayne Enterprises is holding its annual charity gala at Gotham Museum of Antiquities—complete with an elegant venue; eye-catching décor and displays; unending speeches and presentations along with slow, dramatic waltz and special VIP rooms.

Tonight, Jason leans on that polished marble wall—with his own polished black-tie suit. The ink-black velvet suit makes him blend in with the rest of the crowd. He’s done well with avoiding the rest of the mingling Gotham elite, choosing to hide away in some dark corner. Jason watches the ivory-colored champagne in his hand as he tilts the glass from one side to another—a game, if you will. A game to pass the time.

He looks down at the opulent watch on his wrist. It was a gift given to him by Dick. No matter how much Jason said no—or complained, by his brother's words—he didn’t want the ridiculously costly accessory. Though, Dick persisted—just as he did with Jason attending this gala.

Jason glared at the numbers on the watch’s dial. The Roman numeral IX stares back at him as if it’s mocking the man. Jason fidgets with the collar of his alabaster button up shirt—too tight around his neck. His foot restlessly taps against the shining surface of the floor beneath. Jason folds his arms across his chest as he retreats deeper into the corner.

Time couldn’t move slower, he thinks.

He hears a singsong voice call out to him as light steps echo closer— “How long are you going to stand there like a statue?”

The raven hair and ocean-like blue eyes of Dick are unmistakably familiar, even the teasing and lighthearted tone of his voice is engraved in Jason’s mind. Dick takes his place next to his little brother, leaning against the tall marble wall. His smug grin danced across his face. Dick playfully nudges Jason, prompting an answer out of him.

“Until this tedious, faux gala—I mean, important social occasion—ends. I don’t know how you survive here.” Jason groans, head falling back against the cool surface of the wall.

Dick lets a soft chuckle escape, “—Well,—” he clicks his tongue, “—It helps when you have a pretty thing by your side.”

Jason picks up on the tone of Dick’s voice and the suggestion. He can’t help but roll his eyes at his brother’s oh-so creative idea. The thought lingers in his mind for a minute—you, in some fancy outfit, perfectly suited for you, thin fabric hugging your plush and petal soft skin in all the right places.

His hand tightens around the champagne glass. Dick laughs again, satisfied with Jason’s reaction.

“Just wait until you see it in front of your own eyes.” Dick makes sure to emphasize the final words as he motions Jason to look across the dance floor.

There you stand, on the edge of the dance floor. The golden filigree of the ivory floor glows beneath your feet. The crystal chandelier casts a shimmering light upon your dewy skin. The rouge-colored velvet fabric flows across your frame like waves in a calm sea. Your hair meticulously detailed and styled drifts down from your neck and lightly touches your bare shoulders. A rose-gold pendant rests in the dip of your chest.

Your piercing eyes scan the crowd, searching across the mingling elite for a certain someone. Their dim glow reaches Jason even from the distance between you two—it turns luminous when you spot him.

He almost chokes on his breath.

“I’ll leave you two to it.” Dick smirks as he pats Jason on the shoulder. He moves before Jason can give him a nudge of his own and disappears into the crowd.

Your heels clink across the ivory floor as you approach him. Jason can swear he can feel and hear the champagne glass crack under his tightened grip. The drink is left forgotten as he leaves it on a nearby table. Jason meets up with you. Suddenly the suffocating air of the gala dissipates.

“Thought I’d find you moping in some far away corner.” You giggle softly.

“Well,”—Jason takes your hand in his—palm face down as he places a gentle kiss on top of it. His lips linger on you as he holds eye contact, the aqua hue of his eyes are like a siren’s call, beckoning you closer—“everything has changed since you’ve arrived.”

Jason’s warm touch lights a fire on your skin’s surface. You take a second to break out of your sweet reverie. “For the better, I hope?”

“Of course it’s for the better. Without you this entire ordeal would be rather boring.” He muses.

“You think all galas hosted by your father are boring, but with enough persuasion, you always show up.”

“Enough persuasion, huh?”, he laughs, “you think I’m so easily persuaded?”

You gather the courage to step even closer to him. The slight bob of his Adam's apple gives you all the confidence you need.

Your eyes dart across his frame. The ink-black suit sits on his body like it was made for him specifically. The heat spreads throughout, settling deep into the crooks of your body. Does he even know how he looks right now? A sculpted statue of a Greek god, made meticulously by a renowned artist, stands in front of you.

You can’t seem to tear your eyes off him, your mind too busy and occupied with wondering what other details of the statue hide behind the black velvet fabric. Jason notices this too, proved by the flustered cough that leaves him and the slight pink tint on his cheeks.

You gaze into his eyes again, “Aren’t I proof of that? A few sweet words from me and you’re at my beck and call.”

Jason chuckles, “You’re the only one. Count yourself lucky, you minx.”

A sly grin dances across your face, “Oh, I am very fortunate. Though, I’d like to test your weakness for me one more time.”

“What do you have planned?” He lets out a faux groan, eyes following your lips every move.

“Dance with me.”

“What?”

You stammer, the confidence you felt a few moments ago slowly leaving your body, “It’s a gala, right? I’m your partner and I thought we could dance? Only if you’d like of course! It’s not mandatory to dance, I just-”

Jason takes your hands in his own, “—I want to.”

“To dance? With me?”

“Who else?” He laughs, the sound akin to honey. You want to taste his sweet oh-so desperately on your tongue.

“O-Okay.” You lead him to the dance floor.

The ivory floor contrasts with the colors of your clothing. The lights across the room dance on you both, bathing in the warm, golden hue of the glow. Jason’s eyes shine like aquamarine crystals under the sunlight on a coast near the sea, touched gently by the seafoam. The two of you move and sweep through the crowd on the dance floor akin to the soft, rhythmic ebb of a river. It’s not precise, nor perfect. It reminds you of the cracks between broken pieces dipped and stitched back together with gold.

Your hand in Jason’s feels incredibly right, as if it was always meant to rest in the safety of his touch. Your cheeks graze as you attempt to hide yourself in the crook of his neck. A single whisper breaks you out of your trance.

“Don’t hide yourself, please. I want to see you—all of you.”

The words escape from the tip of your tongue, “you can, if you’d have me.”

Your suggestion rings in Jason’s ears. The surprise on his face is proven by the widening of his eyes and the slight part of his lips. His grip on your hands slightly strengthens, careful not to hurt you.

“Fuck.” He groans, the sound going straight to your core. The music slowly ends as he starts leading you towards an empty hallway. “I t-think they have rooms for the VIP’s here.”

There’s excitement in your every step. The more you walk, the more impatience eats at you.

“Jay-” You whine out, “Please-”

“Shh,” He smiles, “patience, and maybe you’ll be rewarded.”

Jason spots an unoccupied room near the two of you. In a few seconds he has you ushered into the privacy of its walls.

Now it’s just the two of you. The air feels hot and intoxicating. It doesn’t take long for the both of your lips to meet. The feel of his lips against yours is so familiar it strikes an aching feeling deep in your heart. Your cherry lipstick gets smeared more and more with every move of your lips. You finally let go of the strings of worry pulling at you and melt into his hold.

His hands travel from your hips to your waist and lay flat against your spine, bringing you closer as if the two of you will embrace each other as one. Every touch lights a fire on your skin. You suck on his bottom lip as your hands move from his face to the back of his neck, luring him closer as his tongue explores every corner of your mouth.

You whimper against Jason’s mouth. The wet kiss finally breaks. He sucked in a sharp breath. His eyes pierce into your own. The look of them makes you quiver in his hold.

Jason’s fingers graze your swollen lips, parting them. Your tongue reaches out on instinct, searching for his skin—his taste. He chuckles followed by a quiet hiss.

“Needy thing.” He moves closer, making you take a few steps back before reaching the bed. “Did you plan this?” He softly lowers you on the bed, hands trailing down to your hips, teasing the slit in the fabric hugging your plum skin.

You shamelessly drag your hands down his chest, clawing to reach his skin underneath the layers of clothes. “Please, Jay-” Your body aches for him, every part of you calls out to him, yearning for his touch, his kiss, his—

“Did you think about this?” He asks, his voice low as he reaches down to whisper in your ear, his lips teasingly close to you. “I know I did.” You can see his flushed skin and slightly tangled hair. He looks so beautiful, intoxicatingly so.

You let out a whine as he kisses the skin connecting your jaw and neck. He nibbles down on the skin, pleasure and the slight bite of pain mixing into each other oh-so well. It lights embers in your body as in his. He takes in the captivating smell of your lingering perfume, making him wish he could drown in it.

His tongue on your neck trails down to your chest, leaving blossoming marks in its wake. They feel electrifying, sending bolts of lighting down your body, straight into your core. Your thighs press together, searching for friction.

He chuckles, looking up at you, “Shh—” He hikes the fabric above your waist, “—let me take care of you.”

Jason sinks to his knees. His lips dance across your thighs, leaving wet kisses in its wake. Your hips shake, body too sensitive from previous touches. Your hand covers your mouth to muffle the whimpers escaping from it. His hand reaches up to yours, ripping it from your mouth.

“I want to hear you—every sound. Just lose control, love. You look angelic like this—under me, spread and so giving, ruffled hair and needy whines—such a pretty mess.” He purrs.

“Jay—” You shudder when his lips graze across your clothed pussy, “—Oh my god.”

Jason chuckles against you, the sound vibrating from your pussy to the rest of your body. He hooks the fabric of your soaked panties on his finger, moving them aside. You bite back a moan at the cool air touching you. Tears well up in your eyes, ruining your mascara.

“Look at you, dripping from me. Did I make you wait for it, baby? Let me make it up to you, yea?”

“Yes, yes, please, Jay—Mh!” The moan hitches in your throat as Jason's lips kiss your folds, his tongue teasing the entrance. “Feels good, Jay…”

He pushes your thighs above, placing them on his shoulders. His hands grip around your hips, trapping them in place. You arch your back as his tongue delves in your cunt. Your breath quivers as he sucks down on your clit. His tongue flicks along it, sending bolts of pleasure up your spine.

“Fuck, right there—don’t stop!”

Jason’s digits rise and part your folds as he inserts one inside you. The moans bounce across the room as he works you towards your climax, as if you’re an instrument that he knows every string of, which one to pull, graze, shake, and grip.

The pleasure builds up, spreading slowly throughout your body. Your climax hangs as if it’s a thin thread about to snap. You shake and cry out for Jason—the one currently working you up to the oh-so satisfying cut of that string.

Your noises feel him with a confidence he doesn’t feel anywhere else. It’s enthralling—the fact he can make you feel so good. He’ll carry you to your climax because that’s what his darling deserves for giving him such a good present—dressing up for him, being so giving—his sweet darling.

The shaking of your thighs grows more intense, just like the moans escaping your mouth. He adds another digit, curling deep inside your cunt. His touch reaches you just in the right places, making you feel dizzy from it all.

“‘m close, baby,” you whine, “god, yes-”

The thread tithers on the edge. Every curl of his fingers and flick of his tongue pushes you closer to that very edge. Your breath gets caught in your mouth, only a strangled moan leaving when your climax hits. You can feel his satisfied grin on your pussy lips. Your chest rises with every bolt of pleasure. His tongue doesn’t let it go. He laps up your cum leaking from your cunt, savoring the taste.

Jason’s fingers delicately dance across your folds, cum collecting on them. He raises his hand for you to see. The moonlight reflects off of the shiny white liquid on the tips of his fingers. Your walls clench at the sight, eyes widening and head falling back against the bed. He laughs again.

“C’mon, be good—clean them.”

He rises from his position climbing on top of you again. His head tilts as his hand moves closer to you. You shudder as the smell of your own climax reaches you. You open your mouth, tongue searching for a taste. He settles the fingers in your mouth. Your tongue swirls around his digits. The striking taste of your slick and cum spreads your mouth. His eyes never break contact with yours, the stare is too intense. You squirm against his body.

Jason’s breath gets caught in his throat. “Fuck—god—pretty girl, good job, just like that.”

His praise makes your hips buck into his own. You want to pleasure him too. The bulge in his pants proves his arousal and need. Your hand slowly trails down his clothed body, searching for any sign of refusal. When he gives you a shaky nod with a crooked smile, you take that as approval.

You take this chance to switch positions. Lowering him down onto the bed you move to straddle his hips. The fabric of his pants grazes your bare pussy, the sensitivity making you shake. Your hands move to his bulge again, palming him over his clothes. He sighs with pleasure, hands clutching the sheets underneath him.

You coo at his reaction, “My pretty boy.”

He whines, the sound coming out as a quiet plea. His hands leave the sheets and grip your hips—surely leaving bruises decorating your flush body. Jason’s hair’s akin to a halo, the moonlight seeping through the window faintly covers him in a faint glow, making him look heavenly. The sight makes you groan.

“Let me take care of you now.”

Your hands move to unzip his pants and free his clothed cock. The flushed red tip leaks of precum.

Jason rasps, “darling, touch me, please.”

“Shh, don’t worry—” You lean down to press a chaste kiss on his forehead, “—I’ll do whatever you need me to.”

You raise your hips as you settle your hands on his chest, hands digging into his disheveled clothes. The tip of his cock kisses your cunt as you align yourself. You sink down onto him, his entire length slowly disappearing into your warmth. Your velvety walls hug his cock.

He shudders with pleasure, “—Fuck, baby- tryna milk me dry, ah-”

You try to settle onto a rhythm. His hands—still on your hips—help you along with the pace, pulling them down onto his cock. The sounds of moans and skin slapping against skin spread throughout the room, bouncing across wall to wall. His hands reach up to your chest, grazing your nipples. Jason chuckles as your eyes widen and thighs shake with every touch.

Both of your moans mix into each other—the sound downright shameless but akin to ambrosia. The similar thread coils for Jason. His breaths become shaky, as your rhythm changes and pace becomes messy. Jason’s hands trail down from your chest to your hips, hanging on.

“Don’t stop, baby- please.”

He bites down onto his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, trying to muffle his sounds. The coil threatens to unfold any second. Jason’s back arches with every desperate thrust, his hips coming to meet you in the middle, chasing that high. His climax reaches closer and closer.

“Can I kiss you?” You ask with a shaky voice.

He barely makes out your words in his hazy mind, “Of course, god-”

Both of your lips crash together as Jason’s climax hits him. He whines into your mouth, hands flying up to grip any piece of you he can—waist, spine, neck—he settles on cradling your face. Breaking from the kiss, his red and flushed lips tremble from ecstasy.

“How are you feeling?” You mumble into the crook of his neck, snuggling closer.

Jason wraps his arms around your frame, hiding his face in your hair, taking in your smell. “I’m feeling amazing- christ.”

You giggle in response. Moving from his neck you place a soft kiss on his cheek. “I love you—like I’m crazy in love.”

“I love you too, baby.”

You settle against his chest. Your eyes scan the room, taking notice of the messy sheets and the smell of sex spreading throughout the entire place. You suddenly remember the promise you made to his family about making him step out of his shell when it comes to these galas. Plan successfully failed?

The two of you slowly shuffle off the bed. Adjusting your clothing is fairly easy, the hair is more of a problem. Your make-up is a mess, too.

You tut, “Jay…”

“I think you look beautiful.” He moves closer to place a chaste kiss on your lips, his tongue slipping out to taste the smeared cherry lipstick.

“Crap, are we just going to leave the room and return to the gala like this?”

Jason lets out a laugh, seeing him lighthearted and content like this spreads a warmth in your heart.

“Well, I’m sure you’re a sight for the eyes, but I don’t want to share. We’re sneaking out.”

“I miss home. I don’t like these galas.” you whine.

“Me too. But I did like this one.” He smirks as his hands smooth out the back of your dress.

You snort, “Good. Maybe next time you’ll get lucky again.” You button his suit.

“I’ll hold you to that.” His hands try to settle your hair in a more presentable state. “We’ll get there and I’ll set up a warm bath for the two of us. After that we can finally rest.”

“I love you. I wanted to say that again.”

Jason smiles, eyes moving across your face, “—Me too, darling.”

© ROBINSFILM ﹕ I do not give consent for my writing to be posted or used on any other platforms without my permission and proper credit.

[solxamber]

First, I would like to say I love your writing! Especially your Trash Villain Chronicles. Thanks to your first one I've been on a Vil kick. I double-checked the rules before typing so hopeful I'm following them. Okay, here goes:

Vil with a partner who's a bit on the heavier side and insecure about it, especially compared to her model boyfriend. Vil finds out about it and quickly reassures her that she is perfect the way she is, and if she's still insecure, he'll help her with whatever she wants to do. Whether it's losing weight or changing her style, anything to make her feel good about herself. Just Vil helping his love feel as beautiful as he thinks she is

I personally see this with a female reader (Hence why I used she/her) but if you do decide you wanna take a crack at this and use a GN reader, then by all means. If you don't wanna do this request, then feel free to ignore it. Just wanted to try. I hope you have a nice day!

Just the Way You Are || Vil Schoenheit

Vil shows you that you’re perfect as you are, helping you embrace your beauty inside and out.

first of all: thank you so much <3. and thank you for waiting! i made it gn to be more inclusive, and i hope this is what you wanted!

Vil has always found a certain allure in the way you carry yourself—something genuine and warm that shines in a way he rarely sees. But over time, he's noticed the small, telling moments of hesitation.

The way you shy away from reflective surfaces, your reluctance to stand too close to him in photos, the subtle way you pull at your clothes.

He understands insecurity well, but it pains him to see that you’re judging yourself so harshly, especially when he thinks you're so beautiful just as you are.

One day, while sharing lunch, he notices you pushing food around your plate rather than eating. He sets his fork down and gives you a look, his eyes gentle yet discerning. "Darling, are you really going to keep that on the edge of your plate?"

You give a half-hearted smile. "I…just don't want to overdo it," you say, hoping that sounds convincing.

Vil nods thoughtfully, already understanding. He reaches out, covering your hand with his. "If you're feeling uncomfortable about what you eat, would you let me help? Not because I think you need to change, but because I want you to feel at home in your own skin."

You agree, albeit a bit hesitantly, and he instantly takes charge in the way that only Vil can. Crowley’s meager budget often mean you have to settle for low-cost, processed foods, and Vil isn’t about to let that slide.

Over the next week, he starts bringing meals prepared just for you, full of fresh ingredients he’s carefully chosen and even sourced himself.

One afternoon, he surprises you with a gorgeous spread for lunch. It’s a rainbow of fruits, vegetables, whole grains, and lean proteins, arranged as beautifully as any of his fashion editorials.

"Proper food is like proper skincare," he explains as he plates your meal with a flourish. "Only the best for you."

You find yourself looking forward to meals more than you ever thought you would. He teaches you little tricks, too—how to pick satisfying ingredients on a budget, small ways to prepare them to bring out their natural flavors.

Every meal feels like an act of love, a reminder that someone thinks you're worth the care you didn’t always give yourself.

After a couple of weeks, you feel the difference—not just in your energy but in your confidence. Vil notices this too, smiling proudly every time you finish your meals, delighted with the way you’re nourishing yourself.

He never pushes; he’s simply there to support you every step of the way, showing you that your health and happiness matter to him more than anything.

One evening, Vil finds you sighing at your reflection in the mirror, scrutinizing every detail of your outfit. You’re wearing a simple outfit, but you can't help but feel that it doesn't quite fit the way you’d like, especially next to someone as effortlessly poised as Vil.

Sensing your discomfort, Vil walks up beside you and slips an arm around your shoulders.

“You’re beautiful as you are,” he murmurs, resting his chin on your shoulder. “But if you don’t feel it, then let's change that. Why don’t we make a day of it and find you some outfits that help you feel as beautiful as you look to me?”

The next day, Vil takes you shopping, his eye for detail guiding every choice. He’s quick to dismiss outfits that don’t fit right, brushing off any hints of self-consciousness by focusing on each piece’s color, fabric, and shape as though they’re variables in an equation only he understands.

“Fit is everything,” he tells you, holding up a jacket. “It’s about finding clothes that celebrate who you are, not cover it up.”

His enthusiasm is contagious, and as you try on different outfits, you start to see yourself in a new light. Vil’s commentary—sometimes playful, sometimes serious—always steers you toward the right choices, outfits that make you feel vibrant and confident.

At one point, he finds a tailored coat with intricate details on the sleeves, something understated yet regal. “This,” he declares, draping it over your shoulders.

You glance at yourself, surprised at how the cut flatters you, and for the first time, you feel like your outside finally matches the confidence you’re building on the inside.

By the time you leave the store, you’re carrying a few new pieces that you actually feel excited to wear, and Vil’s heart swells every time he sees you trying them out.

His pride in you is palpable, his compliments genuine and warm. "It’s all about loving who you are,” he says, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “And it’s a privilege to see you start doing just that.”

One night, as the two of you sit together on the dorm balcony, Vil looks at you with such intensity that it catches you off guard. "I hope you’re beginning to see how wonderful you are," he says softly, his hand holding yours. "Not because of anything you’ve done to change, but because you’re worth it. You always were."

You smile, feeling a rush of warmth flood through you as you squeeze his hand back. And as you lean against him, content, you finally start to believe that, maybe, Vil is right.

Masterlist

[isekyaaa]

You know if I had to be 100% honest, I don’t really like writing. Majority of the times, it feels like more of a hassle and a chore instead of something fun to do. I honestly do not enjoy the writing process. It’s why I tend to avoid writing so much. The only reason why I write is because I love to read. I love to read so much that I’m willing to put work into writing things so I have exactly what I want to read at my fingertips. Any struggles or pains I go through writing is worth it in the end when I have a finished piece.

[bluepallilworld]

A Tear's Soul

Part 1: All is certainly well in this fine world

Mimosa barely had the time to register what was happening before he was warped elsewhere by his happy-go-lucky friend. 

He was used to Lint’s instantaneous portals with how often he had been ambushed but the sensation never failed to be truly bizarre.

It felt like dipping your toes in lukewarm water then suddenly you were drenched and dry at the same time. And in a random place you did not ask to go.

The instant the shock runned out of his system, Mimosa whirled around and hit Lint’s head with the side of his hand.

“LINT, COME ON! Couldn’t this at least wait after breakfast? I’m hungry…”

Lint’s only reaction was to giggle so hard she toppled down on the wooden floor.

“Where would be the fun in that? If you really wanted that breakfast, you should have woken up earlier!”

“...You would just have come even earlier if I did that, wouldn’t you?”

She smiled and stood up, whistling and buzzing around.

The kid sighed and started looking around.

Where were they?

The floor was wooden and a little dusty, the walls were pretty bare except for some weird unrecognizable knick-knacks on shelves. The room was small.

“Whom closet did you zap us in?”

Lint tsked and wiggled her finger in front of his face.

“You’re really”, she pointed to a big dent in a wall, “not a good detective, uh?” 

Mimosa stared hard at the dent. It looked a bit like a puppy’s face? It reminded him of when they played hide-and-seek with Mu’s at her second home and he just rammed his elbow so hard into a wall it damaged the wall. It didn't hurt but it left its mark on the house.

Wait.

He gasped at the realization.

“SINCE WHEN CAN YOU POP DIRECTLY INTO TODDH’S POCKET DIMENSION?!! I thought you couldn’t go farther than the entrance?”

He shook his friend hard in his barely contained excitation.

They were at Mu’s!!!

“Well, it took me a few tries. I’m not sure I’m welcome alone here anymore by the way?”

“Why did you teleport us here? I thought you’d wanted to go exploring or somethin?”

“...You told me you missed Mu and she wouldn’t come back for at least another week sooo.”

Mimosa hugged her. He did indeed miss his younger sister but he didn’t think it was that obvious.

“Eh, couldn’t have my best friend slash “half-brother-from-another-multiverse” mopping, now?”

He buried his head into her shoulder while she rubbed his back.

“We should get out of this closet and go look for your little princess, don’t you think?”

He nodded and pushed away the other to get to the door handle. He didn’t get that far as the girl shoved him away and opened the door first.

She runned out all while shouting:

“THE LAST ONE TO FIND HER IS WET NOODLE!”

And as he, for sure, didn’t want to be a wet noodle, the boy dashed at his turn and they raced through the long corridor, crashing into furniture and laughing their heads off.

Sadly, he tripped on one of his treacherous tentacles (a fairly common occurrence) and tumbled down quite fast with a yelp. His “friend” just snickered at his misfortune and disappeared behind a corner.

Aw, he didn’t want to be the wet noodle…

He plopped down against the floor, starfish-style, and examined his surroundings. He was still in a corridor. That house had too much of those. 

He craned his skull around to examine the few doors he could see from this angle.

Among the very unremarkable doors, one stood out. It was white with flowers painted all over it. The skill of the painting varied a lot and those near the bottom were merely child scribbles.

The skeleton propped himself on his elbows and stared at the door, right-sided.

It was Mu’s room.

Maybe the pasta fate would not befall on him in the end?

The slats creaked despite his best attempts to be sneaky and he cracked the door open a smidge before peeking inside.

A small skeleton was sitting there, playing on the ground with a hoop. Quiet, she was making it roll harshly against the floor until it hit the wall and got launched back at her. She then caught it with the tentacle wrapped cozily around her throat and shoulders and began the process anew.

There she was.

He readied himself to call her when a weight on his head startled him.

“FOUND HER! I WON!”, shouted Lint from above.

How did she even do that, she was slightly smaller than him! That thought was one of the many that went through his mind as she leaped over leaning on his shoulders.

Back to the ground.

Mu looked at them for a second, nodded, then went back to her game, unbothered.

Lint danced, chanting “wet noodle, wet noodle”, looking rather pleased.

He weakly protested that he found her first to which he got the counter argument; he didn't announce it first so that was null and void.

Fair.

They spent some time together, each doing their very own stuff.

Lint was trying to improve her cartwheels (with various success) all while chittering about some story he half-listened to, she tried to coax them into leaving for an adventure a few times but didn’t insist for once so she kept doing clumsy cartwheels.

Mu continued her game, focused on it, Mimosa ignored the action's goal but she was fully entranced by it (despite glancing in his direction a few times, probably wondering about what he was doing).

He was cutting paper shapes with scissors and gluing those to pins he found in a box. 

Once he was satisfied with the amount of paper shapes, he tapped gently on Mu’s shoulder to get her attention. She turned around and tilted her head before eyeing a notebook laying on the ground next to her.

“You don’t have to use your book if you don’t feel like it, I won’t ask complex questions.”

His mute sister nodded and gave him her whole attention.

He pointed at his work.

“Would you like it if I put some of these on your hat to keep company to your flower pin?”

Her eyelights grew two sizes before he even finished his sentence, she stuck her hands in the pockets on each extremity of the drooping bunny ears of her dark colored hat and excitedly moved up her arms, showing the paws design sewed on that side of the pockets.

“I’ll take that for a yes!”

Mu nodded so hard her hat would have flipped away if her hands weren’t still stuffed in.

He pointed to the paper shapes and asked her to point to the ones she’d like most.

She didn’t hesitate and picked anything vaguely flower shaped plus one that looked like a lemon (or an eye?). When he interrogated her on that choice, she just uncurled her tentacle, revealing the rest of her face and smiled.

“Ok, ok, sit there and don’t move.”

He started to stick the paper bits as carefully as he could and Lint joined him on the task soon after.

They did that for a moment, he had to stop Mu from wiggling too much a few times as she grew impatient and excited.

Once they were done and confident it would hold for long enough to be satisfying, they released the small monster and she all but ran to the mirror.

Watching her twirl around in joy released a special wave of warmth in his soul. Those moments reminded him how lucky he was to still have her, how lucky he was that Fancy and the one before him found her when she had been lost and how lucky they had been to be reunited during an unplanned playtrip. 

He saw Lint watching him thoughtful in the corner of his eyes but he didn’t call her out on that.

However, when she turned her gaze back toward the mirror anew and her eyelights shrieked to almost pinpoints.

Uh?

He turned his head to discover an absence of any twirling sister and shot up.

“Where?”

Something poked his shoulder.

Lint was in front of him.

He turned around.

Nothing.

Lint was glaring at random corners.

Poc.

He looked to his left then more thoroughly to his right.

Then he was promptly yoinked from the ground by something above.

“AH-”

A hand stopped his shout and he looked at his aggressor’s face.

…Nip. 

The dark-boned-mixed-rabbit-skeleton grinned at him and made a sign to keep quiet. He reluctantly nodded and fred his mouth. 

Nipal was a strange fellow that liked far too much scaring others in his opinion, but it came with the fact he had been born from a bad dream he guessed.

Other than that, he was pretty okay.

And also holding him with a leg while crouched on all four on the ceiling.

Nip giggled silently and he watched Lint getting more and more agitated on the ground.

She was looking everywhere for them and despite glancing up a few times, Nip always moved just in time to hide from her sight.

The demon was talented in this stuff.

Nip moved towards a wall and put him on the top of a closet using only one floating hand. Mu was already waiting there and looked absolutely giddy at the event.

Nip went back to tormenting Lint and one of the puffy ends of his bunny ears almost smacked him when he turned.

Hm. Mimosa got himself comfy to admire the chaos. 

He shrugged.

That might as well happen.

Nip played for another five minutes at pocking the distraught girl running around on the floor before leaping behind her, shifting his form to a huge furry rabbit monster and caught her from behind in a hug.

Lint screamed bloody murder and Mu drew a line in her notebook. He peeked at the page… 15 was scribbled next to a vaguely bunny shaped scribble and a bit fat zero next to three bows. It looked like she had been keeping score.

He giggled. Hopefully Lint won’t see that.

This one was now hitting and biting the smug adult -to be confirmed, Nip always lied when they asked his age. 

After a bit of shifting and a whole lot of being picked up and scaling things for no reason, they all finally ended up all sitting in the center of the room.

Nipal Twees, once again in his more regular shape, clapped his hands together.

“That was amusing, how are you guys doing?”

He did not wait for their answer as he wiggled his left ear, distracting little Mu that was sitting on his lap.

“Now, kids, Toddh went out to get Fancy. Boy is taking a bit long to bring back groceries.”

Where was he going with that?

“...Kitchen’s free, who wanna bake? Badly of course!”

They answered their agreement, loudly. 

What a good idea, he was famished.

And like that, they made a beeline for the kitchen and promptly started to try baking… something…

They didn’t have any recipe and Fancy’s cookbook was creepy so they boycotted that idea.

Each busied themselves with a task they thought would help making… something?

The result was barely palatable and the kitchen was very close to what someone would consider “ruined”. 

He would not talk about the general state of their outfits. The aprons they put on had been near useless in keeping the mess at bay.

They made a game of trying to eat the biggest part without making faces. Nip was quickly banned from playing as he was unbothered by the taste and even claimed to enjoy it.

The sound of keys in a door made them all freeze.

Toddh was back.

annnnd that's the end of part one 🎶

*******************************************************

Shine, Malignance, Bow/Butterfly and Calligraphy (mentioned) belong to @creative-firebug <3

The rest is mine owu

Tagging as requested: @shinechermont

(if someone desires to be tagged in the other parts, tell me (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ) )

👉👈tagging @zu-is-here because the whole idea of that project was born because of a discussion I had with her (no I'm not telling what it was about) (zuz tell me if you want me to tag you in the other parts or not :D)

bonus:

I thought it'd be fun to put a link to the first time I put Mimosa in a comic (almost 4 years ago), I have evolved a bit

[lunarharp]

:')

[justalittlebluetiefling]

I do think the hardest part about actually writing a whole novel for the first time is having to constantly remind myself that first drafts are allowed to suck. They are not meant to be perfect. They're allowed to be filled with half thoughts where you need to go back later because you can't figure out what you need to fix until there are words on a page. Like, allowing myself to feel like I am bad at something and still continuing to push might be the biggest way I've grown in my entire life.

[lyrebirdswrites]

The evil demon in my head says I’m a terrible horrible no good very bad writer and I MUST NOT let it win. Even if this wip is not knocking anybody’s socks off right now I have to trust it will become good eventually!!! Just keep swimming!! Just keep swimming!!

[vegaseatsass]

Just rewatched DFF ep 9 and I really do think this show is so beautifully meticulously artistically written, with themes and layers and so much thoughtful care. I trust wherever it leads, even if it doesn't lead to the places I want most in my heart (PerthNon vs. PheeTan revenge teams at crosshairs, culminating in a heartfelt brotherly reunion, lol if playfully grudging at how much they fucked up each other's plans despite having the same goals, and a Non who has moved on with someone who has life experiences similar enough to his to actually understand him, listen to him, and trust him. But most importantly A HEARTFELT BROTHERLY REUNION). It's just always fun to watch a show where you can expect to be surprised, you can expect to be angry at the characters, you can expect to not get what you want, and you can still expect to appreciate the writing and enjoy the experience. Love to let the story seduce me you see

[fiepige]

Wanted to write a quick noirpunk blurb but now I'm 4 pages in and actually considering making it a full blown fic instead.

I don't think it would be that long but I've still got a couple of things to add so I feel like I might just make it a fic at this point.

[moon-jellie]

Finished my music theory homework…stopped for bao buns and a beer…life is beautiful

[redrobin-detective]

I was looking at my AO3 trying, once more to finish my AT mini series when I realized its been a year to the day I published where is it now, The glory and the dream? nicknamed Glory. Its a story I loved writing and have reread it multiple times and I got a bit emo thinking about that story - about that world.

I wrote a DGM fic in college over the course of a year that started as a speculative fic on past events and became an all out AU once more details came out in the manga. But I became so much more attached to my version of the characters and the story that it became hard to connect with the canon version. I feel something similar with BNHA and Road Not Taken verse. I love those characters who I took from early canon and molded and aged into essentially my own characters. I still get weepy reading rise up and writing glory kind of helped me deal with a bit of anxiety of turning 30.

This whole verse means a lot to me even though it was far from popular even when BNHA was dominating AO3 and is now so far out of vogue people aren't really reading stories much less wild AUs. But it lives close to my heart and is one of the things I think of when BNHA in any context is brought up. I will write the finale fic, it's lived in my brain fully formed since the last few chapters of TLWA. I will write it and it will hurt and I will sob and it will be one of the most satisfying stories because it will finally exit my brain and enter the page. And it will be utterly meaningless to 99.99% of the population and I will not give a damn because as much as I love sharing my stories and getting feedback, these stories are Mine. TLWA and it's sequels more than most.

[turtlespancake]

i cant believe fontaine finally cleaned up its archon quest writing and learned to Actually Proper Balance its npc screentime with its playable character screentime. and yet. AND YET!!! THIS is the nation where i end up hyperfixating on the historical figures with no official designs.

[ixkhor-and-ambroxia]

Maybe-Controversial-Writing-Opinion!

If you can't figure out what way to format something, then you haven't written it right. I'm not saying it's wrong in anyway or the content itself is 'cringe' or whatever your brain is thinking of right now, I'm saying that you haven't presented your ideas right. Rewrite it. Keep rewriting. Put it down and pick it up again in a few days. Rewrite It. Do not keep it there and expect for your opinion of it to somehow change within the next few days, rewrite it. Figure out your world and your story and if that original sentence ends up being it, then you have still succeeded. You have broken apart that sentence and/or concept and figure out its parts. You may have put it back together the same but now you know how and why it works. I have gone back to the drawing board multiple times for things because one sentence/idea just does not fit right and I need to know why. I need to know whether I need to change it or put in in a different place because this material did not just come out of thin air; it goes somewhere. Everything goes somewhere, even if it's just a moment in time. So rewrite your work. Go back to the drawing board. You deserve to reset and take apart and examine your work just like a mechanic does. So rewrite it. Trust me, it'll end up a thousand times better :)

[creaturefeaster]

I remember a while back you talked about color quest writing and that you were going to share the story by the end of the year. Is this still happening? I know you have a lot on your plate Im just so curious

Oh, it is definitely still happening! Probably a little later because of some really unforseen events o_o but, monthsssss of work have already been put into this iteration of the story, and I'd really like to get out at least a small chunk of the beginning out to you guys by maybe January or February.

I think the biggest hurdle is figuring out the best way to share it with people. That, and I want to include some visuals here and there where I can in the written form, so I have to be mindful of that as well. Much to think about still.

[trashlie]

FP203/End of Arc Thoughts

I was trying to figure out the best way to handle my end-of-fllashback-arc/203 thoughts and rather than trying to rewrite everything I’ve already written, I’m going to just copy my reddit commentary over into this post, and then try to follow up on things that I want to discuss in more detail or that I think deserves to be focused on lol. So if you read the comments in the episode discussion posts on reddit, there’s nothing new here! 

But for those who don’t go on the reddit, then it’s business as usual below this cut! 

Oh my god, the end of this episode. I wonder how much she actually told Nol - did she name Alyssa? Was everything we saw something she was telling him? The thought of her telling him about falling from the window and embracing that feeling, of laying there on the ground and wishing she could just take flight like a bird, too. I had assumed that this was more like... her reminiscing on her own, but the dialogue at the very end is definitely for Nol - talking about how everything moved on, time continued, and she had to continue to deal with the effects of it. There’s something vaguely optimistic about it, and I know it’s because present Shinae is talking and because this reflection is combined with all the things she has experienced since then, what she’s come to learn. Watching time pass - her father fall into the habits that got her into her current mess, the selective color on the beanie and sweater from Alyssa, the progression of her hair growing out, their middle school graduation. There’s so many things I want to pick out of here and I hope I’ll remember to do that as I gush over this.

I didn’t expect those teachers to be fired at all.* We already know that Shinae has a wariness towards adults, and for the ones who actually helped and respected her, to be fired because of what happened to her is really devastating. The math club teacher was the one who found her and probably saved her life, and she was punished. I mean, on the one hand, I understand? The idea is that as teachers who hear the rumor mill, who know when students are being bullied, they should intervene. But we know and we’ve seen that intervention never does anything, and all it did was create a guilt complex in a girl too young to bear that weight of responsibility and one that continued to grow.

(* a teacher friend of mine says rather than fired, she thinks those teachers were probably traumatized, as well, and quit of their own accord)

There’s something about these little snapshots of Shinae with Maya, Rika, and Minhyuk - even if Shinae had never learned to be truly open friends with Maya and Rika until they were older, it’s clear that the after effects of that fall DID affect their friendship. Had she never fallen, maybe they would have been able to grow into close friends sooner. Shinae put her guarded walls up not only because she didn’t trust others after Alyssa hurt her, but also because of the ramifications of association with her. Teachers were fired, her father’s life became harder, Minhyuk lost all of his friends; she didn’t get close to people so as to not bring them down as much as because she didn’t trust them. She told herself she doesn’t like people to comfort herself both because people can hurt you and to try to stave off how much she, too, wished to win peoples’ favors. But because she closed herself out, because she cut off others and kept her distance, we saw the fall out that occurred with Maya, who was already jealous and felt othered. Something I’ve always thought is that it was never that Maya disliked Shinae - it was that her feelings were at odds with their relationship. When Maya first met Kousuke in the hospital she took his ass down defending Shinae. So many of Maya’s issues with Shinae were because of how Shinae closed her out, how she felt like Shinae didn’t want to be her friend. It’s just. idk it’s something that really gets to me, seeing these little snapshots of the four of them having fun together, despite how the rest of their school was alienating them and pulling away. Despite everything, they had each other. And I’m a mess!!!!!

“We all kept moving forward... because life doesn’t stop for anyone. Keep riding along and see where the road you’re walking takes you... Even if the road needs some maintenance or is being blocked... It’s just a temporary delay... We all eventually reach our destination.”

Who are the words for at the end? The dead end - is it both of them, hers? Hers but applies to them both? Shiane thought this favor from Kousuke would help, at least patch things over and take care of her father’s debt, but now it’s left her stuck in a new situation she cannot get out of. Nol thought he would be able to make his escape, but his detour is leading him to jail time.

There’s something SO optimistic about the concept that we all eventually reach out destination but this... this is just yet another dead end. But maybe there’s room for them to find their ways out of this dead end together, the way Shinae was able to carry on with Maya, Minhyuk, and Rika at her side?

(Sidebar: that moment with that narration and the four walking around together looking like they’re having fun, while Alyssa goes to? from? dance practice? GOD there’s something about that moment that just GETS to me, the juxtaposition of Shinae with her friends against the one who could have been but failed at it in every way.)

I have a LOT of thoughts about the ramifications of Shinae's fall. The way she tried to leave everyone out hurts, but also what else do we expect from her? The thing about that fall is that prior, Shinae still believed she could change things in her life. She believed that she could leave her past (at her first school) in the past and start over, make friends, find somewhere to fit in, but life was far from kind to her. She made so much effort to try to defy everything, to set things right, to do the right thing and defend herself, but it only made things worse. And if she'd told the truth, the teachers would probably have had a fair investigation on their hands. But in that moment, when Shinae sat in the hospital and realized how much harder life was going to become for her father, that's when she concluded she doesn't deserve to fight it, that she can't change anything. Why would she name those girls when the last time she called anyone out, everything blew up in her face? If she'd never gotten the girl who bought their project in trouble, maybe the bullying would have been quieter. Less this than it was. Why would she dare name them again? The fact that they completely declared innocence though, ugh. I mean, do I expect them to fess up? Absolutely not. They are the type of bullies who believed they're allowed to bully a bully - in their minds everything they did was righteous and Shinae got what she deserves.

As for Alyssa, I hope we get to see things from her side one day. What kind of anguish or horror, what she felt, and if she holds any regret for it. I think she does. I think you have to be a truly rotten person to feel no regret, especially since we know she didn't actually mean to push Shinae and even in those last moments she still slipped up and showed concern for her, even if she could never reconcile it.

"I thought it was going to help me get there... but it turned out to be yet another dead end." Ugh, the impact of those words, combined with Nol and Shinae sitting and looking over at each other like that. ;~; It's something so... idk. vulnerable, something they share even though they didn't know it until this moment. I have to hope that Shinae opening up to him will help. Nol needs to understand that he is not the only one who has been dealt an unfair hand by life, that he's not the only one who has been tormented by his own existence, and to see that despite it all, even if it's faint, you eventually come out on the right side. Even now, Shinae may be facing a dead end, but look where she has ended up compared to the Shinae of 3 months earlier. My girl ;~; my heart ;~;

What a very satisfying way to wrap up this arc. Idk there's just. There's something about that passing of time that GETS to me. The selective color and the hair growth and Shinae going through the motions of friendship, the way this was one of the hurdles that hindered her friendship with Maya and Rika who, to their credit, did stay by her side even if it was at the request of Minhyuk. I believe in my heart that though Minhyuk asked that favor of them, Maya still said yes because she wanted to, because she hoped that one day she and Shinae could become the friends she'd become with Minhyuk, that she could open up and trust them. I think that's still one of the most beautiful things about Maya and Shinae fighting and making up - there was so much caught up between them, and it was on both ends. Shinae not trusting Maya and expecting the worst of her, Maya holding things against Shinae she didn't deserve, Shinae keeping everyone at a distance, Maya wanting to be a friend Shinae could rely on and trust. Just... all the ramifications on a whole! Shinae becoming this very independent person so that she could never bring anyone down, because her father was absent, because she HAD to be independent to get by and survive and to protect herself and others ;~; I have SO. MANY. FEELINGS.

Rereading the ending and I think it's very possible this narration is still Shinae to herself, but just based on the way they're sitting hugging their knees, looking over at each other, she has to have told him something significant, and after everything we just went through, even though I previously thought she wouldn't name Alyssa, I'm now of the mind that why would we be shown all of this if she didn't at least say she had a friend who wasn't good to her, and how the fall ultimately happened. In fact, it makes me wonder if this might well be the first time Shinae told ANYONE how the fall happened, that others were involved, the kind of bullying incident that lead to it. Ugh. ;~; I can't imagine that she skimmed over it if he's looking over at her like that. Like, you'd think if she was vague, he'd be like everyone else and want to ask questions, or have an expression that clearly reads he knows she's not telling her the truth, but the use of showing only their partial expressions, something so... idk VULNERABLE, I think she's shared something she's probably never shared before? Aaaahhhhhhhh ;______; Big steps, maybe.

ALSO THE WAY MINHYUK BRAGGED THAT HE COULD HAVE HIS PICK OF ANY SCHOOL. ANY OF THEM and in the end he still chose to stay where he could be near Shinae. Left in the dark about what happened, aware that he's the only person who cares about her, the weight of his guilt for not being there to stop it to help her and how it shaped him into who he is. We all talked about how Minhyuk is so overprotective to the point that it blinded him to important things - like how Maya felt - but in the same way this transformed Shimhan, Shinae, Maya, and yes, probably Alyssa - Minhyuk was inherently altered. I said it on my tumblr, but there's something about how Dieter thinks Minhyuk is overprotective of Shinae because he doesn't trust her to handle her own problems, but really it's that Minhyuk, too, was traumatized by what happened and his inability to be a person who could help her. Knowing that he was the only person who cared about her, the only person who was willing to know her truth, made him grow ever more protective of the small, scrappy girl who just wanted to be peoples' friends and never deserved anything that happened to her. When you think about it, it must have been such a hard decision for him to make, to go to university in Chicago. And when he did, IT HAPPENED AGAIN! Shinae's stalker sister, being stuck at the Hirahara Corporation, knowing she's at work with people who have manipulated and hurt her. You literally cannot blame him for the intense overprotective way he treats her - it's not that he doesn't trust her or doesn't think she has it in her. It's that HE has never gotten over what happened to her and how easily it can (AND DID!!!!) happen again. It's that Minhyuk treasures Shinae and wants to show her the value she has and, in the same way as Shimhan, wants to protect her from things she never deserved to deal with ;~; don't touch me I AM EMOTIONS.

I have been lol thinking a LOT lately about Minhyuk and his entire character, how without the background context, it's so easy to blow his protectiveness out of proportion, but once you have the actual details, it's like... wow how could Minhyuk turn out any other way? It feels like the kind of nightmare that hovers at the edge of your mind - maybe it doesn't pop up anymore but you can't help but worry that maybe it will show up again. Frankly, the love that Minhyuk has for Shinae is so.... ;_______; I still haven't recovered from when he burst in yelling that he's the only damn person who cares about her like ;____; EVERYONE WAS SO HEAVILY AFFECTED BY THAT INCIDENT :( Minhyuk and Shinae talking about how he needs to let her take care of her problems seems even bigger now that we know what we do - how that kind of fear must still cling to him.

[lunarharp]

into the deep end - 30k T orufrey fic, focusing on memory trauma, disability, and romance.

the sweet oblivion of the victim, the poisoned freedom of the other.

for one moment - it had felt like two parts returned - the needed reunion of two disparate halves. no more secrets, no more pain.

the moment you get to give back what you never wanted to take. that moment, under the night-blooming flowers, when they had both let out the same single broken sigh of relief.

but they were never whole to begin with, were they?

qifrey swore he wouldn't say 'sorry' to this man any more if he could help it - sorry is cheap now. he didn't want to be in a position ever again where you only have 'sorry' left. so he just looks down into the threads of his blanket, strains his eye until it hurts, feeling his insides - his throat, heart and head - burn with pain. he expects more, but olly says nothing.

olly says nothing.