#this ended up pretty fun to write.

[rafey-baby]

clumsy!reader is still bad at yoga and yoga instructor!rafe wants to keep her all to himself...

c/w: rafe being touchy & blatantly flirting w her, him getting jealous, slightly suggestive, reader being oblivious, 18+ mdni!

wc: 1.9k

idk if anyone missed him but he's back & better than ever !! (after a small vacation that ended up being almost 3 months :D)

some parts are more or less inspired by this, this, this & this ask

part 1

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

Rafe is in the midst of helping someone fix their posture when he hears the gates of heaven opening in the form of a melodious giggle chiming from the back of the room. He lifts his head in order to detect the source of such a vibrant sound; noticing that his favorite client is currently directing her attention towards some guy next to her.  

The joyful expression she’s sporting makes a scowl paint over his features. Why is this random man making her laugh like that?  

“Yeah, you got it. Just keep workin’ on it though,” he quickly dismisses the person he was helping before stomping over to find her practically lying on the floor with the guy’s hands on her calf, along with his mat pulled far too close to hers for Rafe’s liking.   

“I think you should bend it more here, right? I’m honestly not too sure,” the guy chuckles as he tries to figure out what she’s doing wrong.  

“No cause I have no idea how everyone else makes it seem so easy. It’s so hard to get it right, I feel so stupid half the time,” she complains with a huff, not even noticing Rafe looming within earshot.  

“Seriously, I thought this was a beginner’s class but it feels like some of these poses are meant for like literal pros,” he continues with a shake of his head. 

“I know, right?” another peal of laughter bubbles from her throat as she shifts into a seated position, giving up altogether.  

“Everything alright?” Rafe doesn’t mean for his tone to come out so clipped but there’s something in the way the guy’s touching her so freely that makes his hands curl into fists. 

He keeps reminding himself over and over again that this is a client, which means that he can’t just smash his face in— no matter how severely his fingers are itching for it right about now.  

“Oh, I was just trying to help her with this,” the guy explains in tandem with her head turning to look at Rafe. She seems startled.  

“Well, why don’t you focus on your own form for a change? I mean, s’kinda my job to help her, yeah?” he scoffs, making the guy halt his movements in a state of surprise before he's lifting his hands up in apology.  

“Damn, sorry dude,” he mutters out from under his breath while Rafe merely glares at him with the words stay professional bouncing around his skull.  

A tense silence follows, making her grow quiet while she takes slow sips from her water bottle as a distraction; wondering why he seems so bothered to see her talking to someone else.  

However, when he finally turns his attention towards her, she shrugs it off as him merely having a bad day because it seems like the only logical explanation to her. Because at the end of the day, him being jealous makes as much sense to her as her math homework in high school.

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

Rafe is convinced that the universe is purposefully trying to poke and prod at his limits, giving his carefully curated facade opportunities to crack— allowing for the borderline psychotic aspects of his personality to breathe through the crevices. Because only a week later, Rafe sees her entering the gym with another guy she seems to be awfully friendly with. 

“That’s crazy, I don’t even wanna know what Kie said to that,” she rolls her eyes jokingly while he’s showing her something on his phone.  

”Yeeeah, guess you could say she wasn’t the biggest fan,” he laughs in a carefree manner, raking a hand through his disheveled, sand-colored hair.  

“For some reason I’m not surprised,” she mutters out before she notices Rafe standing in the hallway leading to the yoga class. “Oh, gotta go so I’m not late. See you after?” 

“Yeah, I’ll be here. Think Pope said he’s gonna join me for leg day, so we’ll see if I’m still standing when you get back. But you have fun,” he offers her a wave before walking away towards the locker rooms. 

And at last, her warm eyes meet Rafe’s. “Hi,” her voice is soft, nearly shy; a stark contrast to her demeanor only a few seconds ago.  

“Hey,” he greets her in a casual manner, although his mind is somewhere else entirely. “So, that your boyfriend or?” he tries to approach the subject with nonchalance because it’s not necessarily any of his business.  

He’s not even sure why he’s asking— keeps telling himself that he’s just curious and tries to appear friendly by making small talk. After all, some clients have given him feedback on his apparently intimidating aura, claiming they don’t always have the courage to ask for his help because they get anxious he’ll judge them. Therefore, it's something he’s been trying to work on.  

“What? Oh, JJ? No, he’s just a friend. He goes to the gym here, so I usually just tag along with him. Free ride, right?” she answers with a lighthearted tone.  

“Right. Yeah,” he scratches at the back of his neck, contemplating whether or not to ask the next question since he doesn’t want to overstep any boundaries. However, there’s something deep in his stomach that grumbles at the prospect of her being in a relationship, makes him feel nearly insane and ultimately, makes the decision for him. 

“You, uh, you got one?”  

“What?” she asks, features coated in confusion. 

“A boyfriend, I mean,” his gaze is unwavering, eager.  

“Oh, um— no, I don’t. Why?” her puzzled eyes flit over the lines of his countenance, seemingly trying to grasp onto his motives. 

“Just, uh…wondering. I mean, he’d be kind of a dick if he’s not drivin’ you here himself,” he shrugs, a strange sort of relief making his shoulders feather-light when she lets out an airy giggle in response.  

“Yeah, honestly sometimes wish I had one just so he could drive me around and stuff,” she jokes while they begin to pad over to the class. 

“You don’t have your license yet?” he raises his brows in surprise.  

“No, I do. I just don’t really like driving. I don’t know why but it’s so stressful to me. Usually try to avoid it as much as I can,” she elaborates while gathering her hair away from her face and securing the strands into a ponytail.   

“Oh yeah? Well, if you ever need a ride home just let me know, alright?” he says, fighting the urge to tuck a loose tendril that has managed to escape the restraints of her hair tie back behind her ear.  

“Really? That’s so sweet of you! But, um, wouldn’t wanna be a bother,” the hesitation is present in her voice.  

“Nah, couldn’t bother me if you tried,” he promises, wishing they could talk for longer. However, the ocean of people flooding inside the room behind them cuts their conversation short.  

“You’re just saying that,” she dismisses him with a playful scoff. 

“M’being for real. You’re my favorite face around here. Plus, makes my job more fun when you’re always stumblin' on your feet,” he can’t help his mouth from twisting upwards at the way her eyes round out in response to his words. 

“Shut up. I’m gonna go set down my mat now, before there’s only space right in front of you,” she offers him a giddy smile that makes him grin like an idiot. Then, she’s tiptoeing away from him in order to locate a vacant spot. 

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

Rafe has become awfully familiar with these newfound feelings of fondness for the girl who’s by far the most helpless little bambi he’s ever encountered. He thinks she should honestly pick another hobby at this point, because maybe yoga just isn’t meant for her. However, he’d never say any of that out loud because even the thought of not seeing her getting all flustered while she loses her balance whenever he’s near makes him feel physically unwell.  

He’s not entirely sure whether her apparently oblivious brain simply hasn’t caught onto the fact that he so clearly has a thing for her, or if she’s well aware and merely chooses to be a tease about it. Nonetheless, the moment she walked into the class today, he could feel his workout shorts tightening and all she’d offered him was a simple smile.  

And now she’s right in front of him, all tangled limbs and pretty eyes blinking up at him— practically begging for his guidance and for him to put his hands all over her (something she doesn’t seem to mind all that much).  

“You put this cute little set on just for me, huh?” he rasps out while his thumb smooths over the bubblegum pink fabric; feeling it out as he pinches the stretchy fabric between his fingertips, making her breath get caught in her throat in the process.  

“Oh, um— just wanted to…try out some new stuff I ordered. You think it’s cute?” she stares at him with something bashful glimmering in her eyes. 

“Mhm. Fits you nice,” he mumbles out as his gaze lingers on the way the tight material wraps around her figure, not leaving much to the (his) imagination. He bets it’d be so easy to just rip right through these cute yoga pants and pull her closer with a firm grip on her hips before burying his face between her plush thighs.

“Thanks,” she peeps out, flustered.  

He tries to shake off the improper, filthy thoughts with a clear of his throat when he gets caught staring at her for a little too long.  

“So, you actually wanna bend your leg on the other side of your body on the mat and support your foot with your left arm not the right one. Easy to get them confused,” he chuckles as she shifts her position according to his instructions as best as she can. 

“Like this?” she seeks reassurance with a soft tone.  

“Yeah, just like that, Bambi. Good job,” his mouth quirks up some while her mind begins to cloud over in response to his low cadence. She’s not entirely sure what exactly it is about him that makes her feel so fuzzy on the inside, but she thinks it’s nice, thinks she wants to always have him this close to her— wants him even closer.

She doesn’t remember the last time she’s had such an intense crush on someone— slowly turning into a crazy person by each second of not knowing whether he’s merely flirting with her for his own amusement or because he’s actually into her. However, she thinks she’s embarrassed herself in front of him far too many times for the latter to be true in any reality.  

“Then need you to move your right hand here,” he adjusts her form with a grip on her wrist while he maneuvers her to his liking; tingles erupting all over the skin he skims over with his fingertips.  

Her head is spinning.  

“See? Knew you could do it. Feels nice, hm?” he rumbles out, letting his hands rest on her shoulders for support, despite the position not really requiring it.  

She hums her response because she doesn’t trust for any coherent words to stumble out of her mouth at the moment, all the while Rafe is desperately trying to not pay attention to the nearly painful situation in his pants.

[vela-pulsars]

not enough stonjourner art out there

[eelclaw]

stupid fucking bastard. i am not coping with the leaks

[johnslittlespoon]

omg it was so hard to pick butttt could i request 1 and 2 from the smut dialogue list (list 3) with buck and bucky!

prompts | "i want to hear you beg" + "arch your back for me" + playing around with smth a little different for their dynamic <33 ~800 words of filth below the cut >:-) this was so much fun ahh thx sm for the request!!

“Oh, baby,” John rumbles appreciatively, sitting back to get a good look at Gale while he rolls his hips languidly into him. “Look at you.”

Golden hair frames Gale’s head on the pillow like a halo, blue eyes half hidden by heavy eyelids, doll–like lashes fluttering each time John sinks his cock in deeper. Messy love bites mark a trail south, scattered across his chest and stomach and increasing in numbers where angular hip bones and soft thighs had just begged for John’s teeth to make themselves at home.

Gale rocks his hips down, dragging his kiss–bitten bottom lip between his teeth to muffle a needy little noise as John’s eyes rake over him. That just won’t do.

John stills, wrapping firm hands around Gale’s thighs where they drape over his own, squeezing gently.

“Keep going,” Gale breathes out, eyebrows knit together in frustration, still trying to fuck himself on John’s cock.

John purrs out a laugh, heart twisting in his chest at the glare Gale shoots him; it’s hard to look intimidating when he’s laid out pliant and pretty and cock–drunk beneath him, but John doesn’t tell him so. He just snaps his hips forward once, watching with satisfaction when the scowl leaps off of Gale’s face as flushed lips fall open to let out a gasp.

“John,” Gale almost, almost whines when he makes no move to continue, lithe hands coming up to wrap around John’s wrists imploringly, and John hums thoughtfully, stroking his thumbs over Gale’s thighs.

“You need something?” He tilts his head, feeling a little thrill at the huff he gets in return.

Gale levels him with an unimpressed look, but the light flush that creeps over his cheeks betrays him.

“I want you to ask for it,” John murmurs. He grants Gale with the smallest roll of his hips to egg him on when he stays silent, and he feels his hands tighten around his wrists.

“Want you to fuck me, John.” 

And oh, that’s something– his cock twitches at the rare vulgarity, and judging by Gale’s sharp inhale, he feels it. But it’s not quite what John’s looking for.

“That’s good, baby,” he praises him, delighting in the way his flush deepens. He leans down, sliding his hands up Gale’s hips as he goes, settling them on his waist. He brushes his lips against Gale’s in a ghost of a kiss, trailing them along his jaw until he reaches his ear.

“But I wanna hear you beg for me, Gale,” he whispers. 

The immediate pressure around his cock as Gale reflexively clenches down has his head dropping into the crook of Gale’s neck momentarily, cursing under his breath. He can’t help but press his hips forward, needing just a bit of relief, sitting back up once he collects himself, determined to keep the upper hand.

“C’mon,” he rasps out, running his hands up and down Gale’s sides, fingers splaying over his ribcage. “I know you can do it, angel.”

Gale does whine this time, high and desperate in his throat, eyes slipping closed to hide from his own embarrassment. But–

“Please, John,” he says, barely above a whisper. “Need you.”

“Jesus, Gale,” John breathes, head spinning. “Good, so good, baby.”

John’s not going to push– that’s already a lot more than he’s usually able to goad out of Gale, and he’s going to unravel a lot quicker than he intends to if he keeps talking like that.

“Arch your back for me, pretty thing,” John prompts instead, beginning to shallowly fuck into him, and Gale does, tilting his head back on the pillow to bare his neck as his spine curves beneath John’s hands.

The sight nearly knocks the breath out of John, and he groans, sliding one hand under Gale to flatten his palm against the small of his back, feeling the way it flexes as he jerks his hips forward.

Gale cries out so sweetly when he really starts driving his cock into him, grasping desperately at John’s arms, face going slack as he finally gives him what he needs, and it gets to John like nothing else, forever dizzy with the knowledge that he gets to make Gale feel so good.

Dragging those pretty noises out of Gale and feeling him tremble because of him is what really does it for John every time, and it’s what inevitably has him tipping over the edge seconds after Gale spills over his stomach with a broken whimper.

John sinks his teeth into Gale’s collarbone just to feel him squirm beneath him as he fills him up, hands digging into his hips, rutting into him like he can bury his cock impossibly deeper, feeling nails scrabble at his back as the softest mewls escape Gale’s mouth.

He laves his tongue over the fresh indents in apology before lifting his head to capture Gale’s lips in a messy kiss, swallowing his gasps and sighs as he gives him a few more lazy thrusts, chest warm and fuzzy and lovestruck. 

John smiles into the kiss, and Gale laughs softly, and god, he’s going to be the death of him.

[mr-payjay]

watching the nickel apology scene from the great bluish bakery over and over going completely insane. i could rewrite this to actually sound like nickel.

[cels-not-so-secret-love-affair]

hit me! (moonkiller, wolfstar)

a/n: touching on a rarepair with a tiiiny bit of moonkiller. this one was prompted by a friend, who sent a headcanon that i thought was pretty fun and ended up writing. unforch we cannot figure out which blog it came from because it was reposted sans credit, so if you think you know where it comes from please do lmk. wolfstar at the end, but you kind of have to imagine your own resolution.

Remus cannot say with complete honesty that he didn’t mean to punch Barty Crouch Jr. But maybe not quite so hard.

It’s all a bit of a blur, really. One minute Barty is stood in front of Remus, laughing loudly in that rather unattractive manner of his and spewing the typical heinous shit about blood purity, and the next he’s notably absent from the space in which he once was, in a turn of events that it seems is bafflingly not unrelated to the fact that Remus’ knuckles are now smarting with an unfamiliar pain. Remus blinks. He then makes the horrible mistake of looking down.

‘Jesus fuck,’ he remarks. Barty, now sprawled out on the floor with a bloody nose and seeming equally unsure as to how he got himself into this situation, blinks back up at him. It takes a good few moments of stunned silence before Remus jolts his brain back into being able to speak again. He reckons his eyebrows must have flown clean off his face.

‘Fucking- I’m… sorry, mate, I, er- well, I really didn’t know I could do that. Are you alright? I mean of course you’re not, you’re… there, but erm. Do you want…a hand?’ He sticks out an arm somewhat awkwardly. Looking very dazed and a little bit overcome, Barty accepts it and hauls himself to his feet. They stare at each other, still grasping each others forearms. A voice interrupts them.

‘Bloody hell, Moony. How’d you manage that then?’, says James. Barty promptly drops Remus’ hand as if it has spontaneously combusted, and takes several panicked steps backwards seeming suddenly cognisant of the existence of other people. Remus turns to answer his friend.

‘I don’t have a clue,’ he says plainly. He’s telling the truth. He then swivels back round to his unwitting victim, who’s glaring past him at the other three Marauders with his hackles raised.

‘Erm. You need to go to the hospital wing. You need to go and see Madam Pomfrey.’ Barty juts out his chin in defiance.

‘I’m not a fucking pansy, Lupin.’

‘I’m sure that’s true. But you’re, uh, you’re bleeding. Quite profusely.’ Remus steps forward to swipe Barty’s lip with his thumb. When he withdraws it, it’s slick with red, and he wiggles it matter-of-factly in Barty’s face to prove his point. Barty looks positively dizzy at this, and Remus wonders with some concern and disbelief if there’s a possibility he might be concussed.

Mercifully, it’s at that moment that Regulus manages to push his way through the small crowd that’s begun to form around the boys. He scowls fiercely in the general direction of… well, everyone really, steadfastly ignores his brother, and roughly seizes the arm of his reeling best mate with a disapproving tsk.

‘What in Merlin’s name just happened?’, he hisses through gritted teeth.

‘I just got socked in the face by Remus fucking Lupin,’ Barty grins dopily, a strange sort of giddiness overtaking him as he’s frogmarched ungraciously off in the general direction of the hospital wing. ‘I think he might have broken my nose.’

Remus does not, it turns out, get himself in any trouble whatsoever for assaulting a fellow pupil. The last he hears of it is that Crouch - for whatever curious and unknowable reason - is stubbornly refusing to dob him in. He’s certainly not about to confess his crime himself and make an even bigger scene out of what’s already happened, so Remus simply keeps his head down, does his homework, and refuses to mention the incident ever again with a religious commitment. He hypothesises privately that the strength of the punch might have been something to do with his furry little problem (due to it happening in the run up to a full moon), but largely it’s forgotten, in part due to the ever-ending marching forward of school life and in part due to the fact that despite all the Marauders witnessing it, no one can quite get it to compute in their heads that Remus Lupin would shatter someone’s nose. It does change things though. Just a bit. Barty, whilst not someone who could ever really be called gentlemanly, becomes disturbingly less dickish (at least, in Remus’ case - he doesn’t appear to make the exception for anyone else). Hexes suddenly start missing by a hair’s width, and if there’s one thing Barty Crouch Jr is in life it’s a damn good shot, so the only possible explanation is that it’s deliberate. Else, Remus is beginning to enjoy an exceptionally unusual lucky streak. James jokes to him in the common room one night that maybe Barty’s sweet on him. It’s just an offhand crack, and Peter laughs uproariously at it, almost knocking over his chess board. Sirius however only scowls, and sinks lower into his chair.

The whole affair really doesn’t come up again after that though. At least, not until the party. It’s in the Ravenclaw tower, which is technically neutral ground, and means that Gryffindors and Slytherins alike must reluctantly agree to tolerate each other for a couple of hours if they fancy getting drunk. Which, being teenagers, they often tend to. Remus doesn’t want to go initially. But he doesn’t want to be left out either, and James is going, so Sirius is going, so Peter is going, and not going would make him more of a loser than he already is - and a lonely loser at that - so he goes. He goes and gets shitfaced. Which isn’t his intention, at least not initially. But shitfaced he ends up, and he’s having a grand old time - provided he puts his creaky old bones and unfinished Transfiguration essay out of his mind for the time being. Someone’s chucked on some music and turned it up to eleven, and the corners of everything are too warm and fuzzy as Remus makes his way through the heat and the crowd. He flops down haphazardly onto a royal blue sofa nearer the back of the common room. A sofa which, apparently, already has an occupant.

‘Enjoying the party, Lupin?’ Barty Crouch Jr is leant back attractively in the seat beside him and is regarding him with intrigue. Remus wonders faintly how he managed to miss a whole entire human on first glance, and blinks. Barty just grins at him. He looks slightly crazed, and very drunk, and for a moment Remus feels his muscles tense under his gaze, but he seems harmless enough and so he lets him look.

‘S’alright,’ he replies, a tad unsure.

‘You been abandoned?’

‘Not particularly. Just felt like some time spent away, y’know?’

‘Oh, sure. So you came to spend it with me instead, then?’ A wild, delighted flash passes through Barty’s eyes.

‘I, erm. I didn’t actually know you were sitting here.’

‘I’m wounded. Here I was thinking I might have a chance.’ Barty is sort of slurring his words, but its clear that underneath that slight trouble with his pronunciation he’s trying to sound charming, somehow. It kind of works, but then again, Remus’ judgement is impaired. He’s conscious that he’s sweating.

‘You want a chance with me, huh?’

‘Wouldn’t mind one. I’ve a thing for you, Lupin. Ever since you punched my face in.’ He gives an overexaggerated wink. Remus huffs an uncharacteristic laugh.

‘Of course that’s what you find fucking attractive.’

‘Watch it. That’s foul language you’re using there.’

‘Yeah? What’re you going to do about it?’

‘Er, probably snog you, if I’m thinking about it. Yeah. Definitely think I’d snog you.’

‘Go on, then.’

The kiss is hard and messy. Remus wraps his hand around the neck of Barty’s poorly knotted tie to yank him in closer, until they just sort of crash into each other, clumsy and reckless and intense. Remus forgets his surroundings pretty much instantaneously. Its hard to focus properly on the party when hands are tangled in his hair and thrusting up his shirt. Barty is exceptionally greedy with his touches, running his long, wicked fingers across Remus’ abs and pressing their bodies closer together with a less then graceful rush. Remus’ head is spinning. He reckons he might just fall off the couch at this point, but he’s past caring. It feels good, in a new, thrilling, terrifying sort of way. He’d never have planned it, especially not with Barty, but the fact that its happening is gorgeously overwhelming. These are the kisses he hasn’t been getting. Sloppy, maybe, but born out of want and of listening to it.

They don’t get much time together, however. Sooner or later Barty’s being forcibly dragged (or pushed - he can’t tell) off of him and they have to break it off. Then Remus’ arm is practically being wrenched out of its socket, and he’s tugged unceremoniously into the world of those standing up, where he sways dubiously. He turns around to see Sirius seething at him.

‘We’re getting the fuck out of here. Now.’ Remus tries to protest, but its too late, and he’s stumbling out of the open door to the hallway after Sirius before he can so much as blink.

‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’, Sirius snaps once they’re properly alone, almost biting out his words as they tumble vicious and enraged from his mouth.

‘What I want to,’ says Remus, looking indignant.

‘Making out with fucking Barty Crouch? That’s what you want to do, is it? Fucking hell, Moony, I don’t know how you didn’t vomit. And in front of everyone too? Flaunting it? Are you literally clinically insane?’

‘No one was paying attention to us. He said he was into me - I decided to act on it. What’s it got to do with you, anyway? Shouldn’t you be snogging some girl of your own?’

‘Don’t you dare try to deflect this back onto me, you evil fucking git. You knew what you were doing. I can’t get over- Barty? Barty fucking Crouch?’ Sirius doesn’t seem far off from grabbing Remus by the shoulders and shaking him.

‘Well, who else am I supposed to get off with? You’re too much of a fucking coward to kiss me, least of all like that. If you’re not going to admit how you feel then I might as well move on, and since you don’t own me, I can do it with anyone I goddamn please.’

‘Is that a dare?’ His voice is suddenly very quiet.

‘What do you- mmph!’, is all Remus can manage, before he’s being kissed for the second time that night, with equal or maybe even increased intensity compared to the last. This one is even briefer, angrier, and entirely more world-shaking.

‘There! I admit it, okay? I’m in love with you. That what you wanted?’ Remus can only stand stunned and shaky before his friend. Nothing comes out of his open mouth.

‘Ugh. Go to fucking hell, Moons!’, Sirius spits, before turning around and storming off.

[shinysteph]

Is this a safe space to say I liked the bnha epilogue and didn't see anything wrong with it? 🧍🏻‍♂️it was just a fun little bonus chapter I honestly don't know why people are upset about it

Anyway I love Shouto and I hope he enjoys his bowl and chopstick making classes

[gingermintpepper]

I know October is typically a month where people try their hand at somewhat elaborate creative challenges and really test themselves and their ability to stay consistent for a month but this time, I wanted to do something a little different.

The thing I'm challenging myself to do this October is to take one step. My mental health has been aggressively declining and while I'm still pulling myself together to reach out to friends for support, the one thing that does consistently give me joy and does make me feel settled is my story and I finally want to take some steps to talk about it in a meaningful way.

The concept really is simple, every day for October, I'll do my best to introduce a new character and their place in Pursuing Daybreak. A lot of the concepts and characters are, thankfully, already grouped together in sevens for this work so it did end up being a pretty neat prompt list altogether:

Apollo, who is the beating heart of this concept and story

The seven main characters (Hyacinthus to Eros)

Zephyrus who, like Apollo, is vital but haunts the story rather than participates

The seven people who are in possession of larkspurs (Penthesilea to Aphrodite)

Seven gods besides Apollo who are important to the story (Artemis to Erebus)

and finally, seven lovers and mothers to match the main cast (Leto to Eurydice) Mostly, I'm just hoping to generate some happiness for myself this month, even if it comes exclusively in the form of taking a few minutes every day to post a little goofy drawing of one of these characters I've come to cherish so much.

[good-beanswrites]

es should go through the blender but my finger is tired of holding down the button. so i shall pass the blender to you (with an es nui in it). do whatever you wish with them.

Oh why thank you :) I will take the blender gladly :) *Tosses some T2 angst into the blender* *adds a little bit of funky structure/style* *gives it a little pinch of headcanons* *and another pinch of random angst I got from ace attorney at 14 and never forgot* :) BBBBBBRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

Caretaker Log J.16.7.2

Summary – The Warden’s condition continues to worsen since last entry. All decline remains self-inflicted. 

J.16.7.2-M – Sleep deprivation has resulted in mood swings and irritability. Though denied by the Warden, extreme distress, melancholy, and laughter have been noted. They lash out verbally and physically toward the prisoners (1) only to apologize at a later time. Observations (2) result in speculation that hallucinations are another symptom. 

J.16.7.2-B – The Warden's obsession with notetaking remains steady, though most pages of planning are merely rewritten versions of earlier notes. Their nightly ritual has grown more rigorous: four cups of coffee ingested in the time between dinner and the kitchen’s closing. A fifth cup is brought back to the courtroom, where the Warden will once again sleep on the ground. (Refer to J.5.5.2.B for initial detail.) 

J.16.7.2-P – Sleep deprivation and/or caffeine intake has caused shakiness and overall weakness. They show severe eyebags and have not changed into nightclothes in several days. Though they wash themself and fresh civilian clothes have been provided, they insist on returning to the uniform. Motor skills (3) and computation abilities have suffered.

J.16.7.2-S – The Warden spends their days around the prisoners, but avoids participating in all necessary conversations and activities regardless of invitation (4). They limit speech to the Caretaker only about their denied request (5), though they can be coaxed into conversation when fatigue overtakes them.

(1) After 005 offered the Warden something to help with their sleep, they threw the pills to the ground and shouldered past with force; 008 attempted to read the Warden’s notes, and they slapped her hand away.

(2) Flinched away from 003 even when standing still; shocked expression at 004's face despite nothing out of the ordinary; looked nauseous and refused to eat fresh fruit from the dining hall; interrupted a conversation with 010 to listen to silence.

(3) Handwriting has grown nearly intelligible; dropped one of their coffee cups and nearly panicked at the subsequent breakage and spill.

(4) Left the room when 002 began setting up a game; ignored 001's encouragement to join him for a meal; refused to answer personal questions from 006; snapped at 007 when trying to begin a lighthearted conversation.

(5) Request submitted on 30.8.2 for padlocks to fit supply closet and cell doors.

Appendix. Subjective caretaker commentary – Poor kid. I’m glad it’ll all be over soon. 

[stealthnoodle]

Happy WIP Wednesday, I am finally almost done with what has become a 20k+ monster of a chapter. To celebrate, here's Akechi arguing with a bird about his recent life choices:

"I am focused," he said firmly. "Something came up. I'm handling it. Give me my phone.' Morgause flicked her head to the side to glare at him with the full force of one black eye. "Handling him, you mean? Yeah, I bet something came up." Cursing the heat in his cheeks that he could feel giving him away, Akechi made a reckless grab for the phone and got a bite to the back of his hand for it. He jerked back with a hiss. The mark was angry and red and would probably bruise, but she hadn't drawn blood. Yet. The screen animated under Morgause's feet as a backlog of notifications rolled in. "You know the worst part?" she said. "I really thought you were smarter than this." "It's not what you think." "Oh, so it isn't you making the worst choices imaginable? It isn't you lying to me because you didn't want me to call your dumb ass out? Dammit, kid, you're self-destructing!" Screaming back would only make things worse. Akechi counted to five twice because getting all the way to ten was impossible, then whispered, "We can have this fight later. My deadline is in less than three hours—" Morgause shrieked again. "A job came in with a deadline and you didn't even tell me?" Akechi gritted his teeth. "I don't have time for this." "But you had time to waste with the leader of the Phantom Thieves?" "Give me my fucking phone back and he'll be dead before lunch."

[aliferousdreamer]

how i felt finishing season 4 of the next step:

[sp0o0kylights]

Mimic Steve!!! at number Seven I see,,, was that, perchance, on purpose? :D

AYYYY you caught that! I'm so glad someone did lol.

I had to go hunt down what I already posted about the Mimic Steve AU lmao

It's honestly easier to read the first part here , but basically, it's an AU that centers around how the Steve we know isn't actually Steve Harrington; he's a replacement that his parents bought and paid Brenner/The Lab for.

What he actually is, is a being similar to humans with mimic-like abilities from another dimension. They kidnapped him at a young age and then later tortured him into being Steve when the real one passed away from cancer as a child.

There's a vast number of problems happening when the story starts but the biggest is that Robin and Nancy have accidentally discovered that the real Steve Harrington is dead and the house Steve lives in doesn't actually belong to the Harrington's.

In a panic-ridden attempt to prevent them from discovering he's a monster from an alternate dimension whose stuck, Steve taps Eddie for help on grounds that he has romantic feelings for Eddie and already thinks he doesn't deserve to be loved in return. I he loses Eddie as a friend over this then well-- chances were that was gonna happen anyways because he sucks at hiding that he's in love--but he can't lose Robin.

In his head, that means Robin can't learn that he's not human

Snippet:

“Sweetheart, you are Steve.”

He frantically shook his head. “No, I’m not. I’m a copy of Steve, one they forced so hard that it--it overwrote the real me. I don’t know who I actually am, Eddie.” 

Besides a fucking monster, from somewhere else. 

(At his lowest, in the dark of the house in the middle of the night, Steve turned himself back into his base form. 

The thing he was--or at least thought he was--before he’d been kidnapped. 

Stared at himself in the mirror and felt only terror, because he didn’t recognize himself. )

Eddie stepped up, gently took one of Steve’s hands. 

Threaded their fingers together. 

“Okay.” He said, eyes searching Steve’s own. “What can I do to help you find yourself?” 

Steve stared back. 

“I haven’t--I never…” He trailed off faintly, all thoughts of who he had been and who he was impersonating vanishing in the face of his reality. 

That Steve’s life had been so preoccupied with keeping himself safe by living within a lie, he never actually spent any time trying to figure out who he was. 

Eddie seemed to realize this, and nodded once as if Steve’s expression was an answer in and of itself. “It’s okay. I mean it. It’s a big thing, and it’ll take you some time, but I’ll be there with you if you want me to be.” 

Steve sniffed.

“Even if I turn into a car again?” 

Eddie laughed softly. ‘Yeah Sunlight. Even if you scare the shit out of me by turning into a car again.” 

“They’re emergency purposes only.” Steve said--and he meant it. 

(The fear of getting stuck as something non-human had terrified him so badly the car incident had left him puking up his guts for two days after, nerves shot.) 

“Now about changing into that courthouse clerk…”

[a-gay-bloodmage]

Care to Join Us For Some Tea?

(Emmrich Volkarin & Sascha Ingellvar)

Rook is a very strange creature, always keeping to the shadows of the Lighthouse like a timid ghost. It isn't until Emmrich recalls a strange encounter, three decades past and in the depths of the Grand Necropolis, that he begins to understand what made Sascha Ingellvar into the man he is today.

Read Here!

[formal-frog-shoes]

Twiststuck stuff i just wanna get out

Im a huge Cater multi-shipper

Normally this wouldn't be a problem

BUT I CAN'T HAVE ALMOST EVERYONE IN THIS AU HAVE A FLUSH OR PALE CRUSH ON HIM THAT'S ABSURD!!!

[liquidstar]

a friend who'd wait :)

[aroaessidhe]

2024 reads / storygraph

The Principle of Moments

start of a scifi space opera series

a teen girl in the far future where humans are oppressed learns she has a destiny & a lost sister and escapes

and a young time traveler who’s given up trying to find his father through time, and is about to settle in 1812 with the prince he loves, but is unwillingly thrust into the future

they both learn their fates are entangled by a prophecy, and have to race across the galaxy, followed by a galactic emperor and the legacy of heroes from an ancient religion