#to say “the answer to this problem is we need a balance of both in media”

[boytearscore]

why can’t i hate you? — matt sturniolo & chris sturniolo.

summary: being best friends with chris and nick meant the world to you, it also meant you had to deal with their brother’s hate, rudeness, eye rolls, mean comments and coldness all the time. but that didn’t bother you, in fact, it was actually always a pleasure to annoy the shit out of him constantly.

warnings: swearing, enemies to lovers, best friends to lovers, love triangle (not threesome), toxic behavior, angst, comedy, possible smut and of course, strong female lead.

taglist: @sleepysturniolo, @soshere, @spideylovin, @calisturniolo, @ilovecheese09, @ncm9696 , @klaus223492, @freshloveforthefit (thank you so much for the support, girls 💋)

author’s note: girls, i’m really sorry for the sudden disappearance. i had work plus lots to deal in life and a bad situationship that ended horribly, so now i have more time and i’ll be back with more updates. this is the next chapter of “why can’t i hate you?” and matt is gonna spill some secrets, stay tuned. hehe.

chapter four.

after finally getting home, you went to bed without checking your phone. chris was still sending messages and you also saw matt’s name on the notifications. but considering the earlier events, both matt’s and chris behaviour, you needed time to think before talking to them. you hated acting out of emotions, people hurt each other in the heat of the moment and that could possibly lead to a cycle end and to be honest, even though chris was suddenly acting like a fucking possessive person, you didn’t want to lose him.

eventually, you fell asleep hugging one of your pillows with a hundred thoughts in mind.

it’s monday, you got up late and went to work in a rush. only having time to take a kick shower and brush your teeth. at this point, you had 30 messages and since there was literally no time to actually read them, you just drove to work in completely silence. half of your brain was a war, the other half was completely calm, thinking in a racional way. the problem is you’re not being able to balance those two things like you usually do.

the day was extremely slow and stressful, some clients had a lot of questions and repeated them multiple times, so you had to explain over and over with your mind already full of thoughts.

you didn’t have lunch break either, a way of coping with an overflowing mind was throwing yourself in work but when was time to go home, your whole body was rigid and in pain.

you went home driving slowly, still in complete silence but your phone starts ringing.

“not right now, chris.” you whisper to yourself rolling your eyes but after a quick glance at the screen, you see matt’s name.

after thinking for a bit, you decided to pullover to answer the call, something inside your heart told you to.

“hi.” he says, and you look at the sky trying to keep your mind clear.

“hey…” you reply, but he doesn’t say anything for a while. with frowned eyebrows, you ask. “did you meant to call someone else?”

“no, it’s just…” you hear a loud sigh. “do you wanna meet me somewhere? we need to talk.”

“um, i’m almost home.” you said, pondering if that was a good idea. “wanna meet me there?”

“good, i’m already here.” you heard him say and before you could answer, he hang up.

you drove faster, but safely. nothing could take the thoughts out off of your mind, the memories from last night and the theories of what matthew could possibly have to say.

the thing is, no one messes with your head when it comes to mixed actions. especially men. they were all like that, you just assume what’s going on in their head and they act all surprised because you’re usually right. and until days ago, you knew matthew. you knew by the way he reacted to your teasing, every single thought he had. but after last night… everything is a blur, you don’t know what to think, you have no control over your emotions, you can’t even say no when he asks to meet you out of nowhere in such a hard day.

before you noticed, you got home. no one was there which made you confused but not surprised, maybe he left after getting impatient? that’s so him.

after parking the car in the garage, you slowly open the door entering still confused. everything was dark and before you could touch the light switch, someone grabbed you by the waist, turning you around. your heart skipped a beat, you grip the person’s hand and twist it with a quick move, making them face the wall.

“hey, hey. it’s me, matt!” he gasps, yelling.

your eyes widen, staring for a second at the back of matt’s head. “the fuck are you doing? how did you get inside?” you ask firmly.

“the spare key, under the plant…” he’s out of breath, almost moaning in pain from your grip. “nick told me.”

you roll your eyes, letting matt’s hand go and buffing. “that kid needs to shut his mouth.”

he sighs, massaging his wrist and biting his lips. you observe him, the way he’s sensitive to touch. the lack of sleep and rest probably got to you because wide things went through your mind.

“don’t ever do that again.” you tell him, throwing your purse on the couch and taking off your blazer. matthew is staring at you without saying anything. you raise a brow.

“what?” you ask and he looks away, scratching the back of his neck.

“nothing, it’s just… you look different wearing that.” he says still not looking at you. “usually you dress like a homeless person.”

“you came here to talk or tease me?” you ask with an annoyed face and he chuckles. that was the first time you heard his little laugh or saw a smile that wasn’t mean on his lips.

“sorry, i…” he finally looks at you, staring at your eyes while leaning against your living room wall. “can i ask you a question?”

the girl looks at the blue eyed boy for a few seconds, confused. what exaclty he could possibly be so curious about and why is he being so… different?

“go on.” she says, taking her heels off.

“do you have a thing for chris?” his voice is low, but loud enough for her to hear. he holds his breath, trying hard not to punch himself for being so stupid.

“why?” she raises a brow, walking to the couch and sitting there, crossing her legs with a nonchalant and calm face.

“you can’t answer a question with another one.” he rolls his eyes and heads to the couch next to hers, sitting calmly.

“i never thought about it.” she replies his question honestly, she really didn’t think about it until the day before when the whole thing happened. “he’s my best friend, i look at him and see my soulmate.” she notices a certain discomfort on matt’s face but decides to ignore it and continue her thoughs. “but not in that way.”

“not what it looked like yesterday.” he says before thinking, internally screaming at himself and she tilts her head again, laughing. “what’s so funny?”

“what’s with you, matt?” she asks him, frowning.

“what do you mean?”

“if i didn’t know you i’d say you’re jealous.”

“bullshit, and you don’t know me.”

“then why?”

“what?”

“why do you care if i’m into chris or not?”

he avoids her penetrating gaze for a few seconds, maybe for a full minute and knowing he couldn’t escape the question, he finally looks at her again.

“because i can’t allow it to happen.” he says firmly, clenching his jaw.

if she was confused before, now the girl was puzzled beyond words and thoughts.

“you think i’m gonna hurt chris? because i would ne…”

“that’s not why.” he interrups her, his eyes telling her more than his words. “i can’t bare to see you with him, that’s all.”

“why?”

an urge to get up and walk towards him washes over the girl’s body, she goes almost in slow motion and matthew follows her steps without blinking.

“why?” she asks again, now right in front of him. he’s looking up at her, his jawline is clenched and his hands are gripping his jeans.

“because…” he whispers, his voice cracking and she bends over facing him closely, matt lets out a sigh with her breath hitting his face. “because if you can’t be mine you won’t be his either.”

[thefloatingstone]

Not to vague post (because it's not that serious), but I'm seeing posts on my dash doing that thing where they denounce something while actively doing the exact same thing they are denouncing.

"You see, these blanket people only see other human beings as copies of the exact same kind of person and can't understand individualism exists. All blanket people think this btw."

I just saw some people argue how a fat character becoming thin as a sign of personal growth is always fatphobic and is lazy writing. When the other people pointed out that it shows applied effort to become fit the person saying it was fatphobic said "Not all bodies are the same!!!" which then makes ME raise the question "so why do you think every fat character is more inclined to being fat and there are no characters at all whose physical state is an indicator of their applied effort? Why are you saying ALL fat characters are just like you?"

It's just always.... well not interesting or fascinating or anything.... but it certainly is a thing I notice where someone says "thing is bad" while literally doing the thing they say is bad within the very same post.

[p0orbaby]

Not Nineteen Forever

summary: co-parenting with two kids? light work

warnings: are exes a warning ?

a/n: i smell reconciliation in the air…

word count: 1.1k

-

“He’s forgotten his boots? What time is his lesson? No sorry don’t answer that, I’ve got meetings for the rest of the day, I can’t leave the office. Can he play in his school shoes? Can I just ask, have you tried getting in contact with Alexia? No, you just called me, got it. Well it looks like he will have to miss football then doesn’t it. Yes, it’s such a shame! Okay, thank you, bye”

You hang up and smash the phone back into its receiver, frustration boiling over. This is the third time this month something has come up with the kids while you are at work. Balancing a full-time job and single parenthood was taking its toll. You sigh, running a hand through your hair, and try to refocus on the mountain of tasks waiting for you.

It has been a year since you and Alexia divorced. The decision was mutual, borne out of necessity rather than any particular wrongdoing. Her career had always been demanding, but as she rose to greater heights, the time she could spend at home dwindled to almost nothing. The distance, both physical and emotional, had grown insurmountable. You had drifted apart, slowly and painfully.

The kids have taken the separation surprisingly well. They are resilient, adapting quickly to the new arrangement of split weeks and alternating weekends. But despite their brave faces, you can see the strain it puts on them. You miss the days when the four of you were a team, tackling life’s challenges together.

As you stare at your computer screen, trying to immerse yourself back into work, the phone rings again. It was the school. Again.

“You should have Alexia’s number on file but if you need me to confirm-“

“I’m sorry?”

“Luis’ boots. If it’s that much of a problem I’m sure my wife- ex wife, can drop them off”

“Apologies Ms Putellas, but I'm ringing about your daughter. This is the school nurse…”

-

You arrive at the school to find Alexia already there, uncharacteristically nervous as she waits. Despite everything, she always manages to be present when it truly matters. It’s one of the things you admire most about her, and also one of the most frustrating – her ability to show up at the critical moments, even if she couldn’t be there for the day-to-day.

Silently you’re both ushered into the head's office, where your daughter sits with a bandaged arm and teary eyes.

“How did this happen?” you ask suddenly, directing your question to the principal as you crouch down to inspect Liliana.

“She was climbing on the monkey bars and lost her grip,” the older woman explains. “It was an accident. She’ll be fine, but we thought it best to have you both here, given the circumstances”

“An accident?” Alexia echoes sharply, her voice edged with anger she normally only reserves for the pitch. “She’s only four! Why wasn’t she being supervised properly?”

The principal shifts uncomfortably. “We do our best to keep an eye on all the children, but sometimes with kids these things happen. We deeply apologise for any distress this has caused”

Alexia’s face tightens with frustration. “My daughter could have been seriously hurt!”

You place a calming hand on Alexia’s arm, feeling the tension radiating from her as she fizzes on the spot. “Ale,” you say softly. “We can talk about this later”

Alexia finally takes a deep breath, her eyes softening as she looks at Liliana, who is now clinging to her like a lifeline. “Are you okay, Cariño?” she asks, her voice gentler for your daughter's sake.

Liliana nods, though her eyes are still wet with leftover tears. “It hurts, Mami.”

The principal nods. “She’ll need some ice and rest, but otherwise, she should be okay. We just wanted to make sure you both were informed and could decide if she should go home for the rest of the day”

You glance at Alexia, your mind racing. It’s been a long time since you’ve had to make a decision like this together. “Do you think she should come home?” you ask.

Alexia looks down at Liliana who hugs at her leg, thinking as she strokes the top of her head. “I have the afternoon off. I can take her and keep an eye on her”

You’re surprised. “You have time off? I thought you had training”

“I managed to get the rest of the day cleared,” she says, her eyes meeting yours. “I wanted to be here”

For a moment, the tension between you eases, replaced by a shared concern for your child. You nod, before turning to the woman sitting behind her desk. “We’ll take Luis with us too”

The principal smiles, relieved. “Thank you both for coming in. We’ll make sure her things are ready to go”

-

“I finish at five, I’ll come straight here after” you say as the kids run past you into Alexia’s house. Liliana magically healed at the thought of being able to miss the rest of the school day.

Alexia watches them go, then turns back to you with a look that’s hard to read. “I know it’s been… different”

“Yeah, different is one way to put it,” you reply, trying to keep your tone light, inoffensive. “But we’re making it work”

She nods, her gaze drifting to the door where the kids disappeared. “They seem happy. That’s what matters”

You follow her eyes, watching the kids through the window to where they’ve migrated to the garden. “They’re stronger than we give them credit for. It’s us adults who complicate things”

Alexia laughs softly. “Isn’t that the truth?”

There’s a moment of silence, filled with all the words neither of you have dared to say. Eventually, Alexia breaks it. “You know, I’ve been thinking a lot lately, about everything”

You feel a twinge of something you can’t quite identify, hope maybe, but you push it aside. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she says, her eyes meeting yours in a way that makes your cheeks flush. “I miss them. And I miss… us”

You swallow hard, trying to bat away the emotions rising hopelessly within you. “Alexia, we’ve talked about this. Your career, my job, it just didn’t work”

“I know,” she replies, frustration creeping into her tone. “But just because it didn’t work then doesn’t mean it can’t work now. People change. Situations change”

You sigh, rubbing the back of your neck. “I don’t know, Alexia. It’s not that simple”

She steps closer, a dangerous move. You can smell the lingering scent of her soap, the gum she chews. “Maybe it doesn’t have to be complicated either”

You look at her, feeling the familiar pull you’ve tried to ignore for the past year. “I need to get back,” you say finally, peeling yourself away from her.

[jayswhorex]

dick grayson's hands rested on your hips, feeling the thin fabric of the leather mini-skirt you had been dying to try on, "i dunno sweetheart it's pretty short" he says, laying his head on your shoulder. your giggles fill the dressing room as you try and admire the piece of fabric hugging your thighs. here you both stood in the changing of one of your favorite shopping centers in gotham.

you had asked dick if he could shopping with you and the man had no problem taking you out. the two of you were close friends, so this was nothing out of the ordinary other than the fact that the man was glued to him, even with you inside the changing room. he told himself that was just going to help you change, there was no shame in that right? but all those thoughts dispersed once you had answered his question "but it's kinda cute right, i need one for my date tonight?"

and there it was, the brief silence between you two that made it seem like there could be something more. any man with an ounce of shame or maybe some decency would've let go of you by now but instead, he gently began to kiss your neck as if what you just said hadn't fazed him. "date tonight? can't you skip it f'me doll?" he pleaded in a quiet tone, his hand now scrunching up the letter skirt and lifting it "dickie-"

he cuts you off with a firm squeeze of your hips, you could feel his body pressing against yours, his harden crotch pressing up against your thin stockings. you didn't have the will to push him away and to be honest, you didn't want to. "what? you can always reschedule" his kisses found a way to your shoulder "and if he's upset by that, then he knows he wasn't worth it" a small part of you found that to be a bit sweet but another part you remembered that dick knew exactly what to say to get you in bed and he was doing it right now "that's- that's not the point dick"

"when did he ask you out anyway," he asked trying not to lose his compromise, you were his friend there was no reason to lose his composure over this but fuck that he had all the reason to. "like about 2 weeks ago when you had to go back to blüdhaven for work," he thought in his own little way you and him were…something at least. and it wasn't the first time he'd ask for you to skip dates for him and it definitely was the first time he'd touch you like this and you knew it wouldn't be the last.

"so what about me?" dick's rough hands slyly moved to cup your ass, giving you a firm squeeze and without even giving you time to recover and be quickly reacher for your face forcing you to look at him through the mirror "m'not enough now?"

"dickie that's not what i mean"

"no i get it, i leave and you get a bit lonely" he teases, pressing his clothed cock again your thin stockings. a groan slips from his lips, feeling your ass against his cock. the two you had practically forgotten you were in a public changing room but that would back to bite you at a later time. watching from the mirror, you take in the image of dick unbuckling his belt. and his pants & boxers fall to his ankles. he takes his sweet time as he pulls down your stockings, watching you waiting patiently "you missed me, didn't you babe?"

you turned to face away but again he made you look at him, "yes, i missed you dickie" and with those words, dick held and waist and gently pushed into you, his hips rocking slowly, trying to find a rhythm. you held in your moans, but the few that did slip out were not intended. though they did give dick a bit more of an incentive.

you placed your hands on both sides of the mirror trying not to lose your balance as he thrusted in and out of you. one hand focused on making you look at the other the other, thumb stroking your clit. this was the worst part about sleeping with dick grayson. the more you let the bot fuck you, the harder it is to move on each time. "dickie please, a little harder, s'not enough"

"don't forget where we are sweetheart, there only so much i can do with making any noise" you huffed in frustration but you could tell dick himself was struggling not to let any groans but god you were so warm and tight, and even if he didn't make any noise, he was surely going to make a mess of you. he leaned in towards your neck, leaving sloppy wet kisses on the neck, he wasn't going to leave any marks not yet at least. those were for later, if you were going to stay with him "if you skip that date tonight-"

"dickie i don't wanna talk about him right now" through the thrusts and slaps of skin that filled the room, dick heard you loud and clear. out of reflex, he lifted your left leg for a deeper angle, a position he knew you feverishly enjoyed. you didn't exactly take pleasure in telling him what you wanted him to do so always took it upon himself to do what he knew you needed. and you knew no other guy would replace him and he knew it too and he wouldn't let you believe that.

and just like that your phone rings, while dick grayson is balls deep inside you, fucking you in a public changing room for crying out loud and you're getting a goddamn phone call and before you have a chance to decline it, dick answers it and you just know you're absolutely fucked. but dick hips don't falter for even a second, he continues to fuck you against the mirror, with not even a hint of remorse laced in his voice.

"ahh no sorry, y/n is a little bit busy right now"

"how about she calls you tomorrow?"

"a date tonight? well i don't think i'll be done with her by then…"

his hand let go of your face and instead gripped your hip tightly, a shameless groan leaves his lips, as his cock slips in and out of your folds at a vigorous pace. your nails dug into your palm as you bit your lip, holding in the moans that threatened to escape. dick had no problem letting your little date on the other end hear him enjoy the hell out of fucking you senseless. a part of you felt embarrassed by the way he was acting but another part of you was feeling too good for you to really care. the both of you were reaching your high, and all took was his next words and you came undone in a second, "gonna fill you right up doll"

you the line cut off and instead of being enraged, you were very much relieved. at least you didn't have to stand up to another guy or dump them due to dick being a "cocky asshole", those were tim's words really but to be fair they weren't exactly wrong. he attention averted back to you once he put your phone down whilst he was still cumming inside you, a mixture of both your fluids seeping down your thighs.

"still need to buy that leather skirt?" he asked with a sadistic smirk spread across his face, he still had you trapped between him and the mirror. "it's not like you're busy tonight, right?"

[etz-ashashiyot]

You know how sometimes arguing a point is losing?

Like if you engage the argument at all you are inherently putting up for debate things that should never be up for debate and the argument itself is degrading?

You see this with interpersonal gaslighting:

A gaslighter doesn’t simply need to be right. They also need for you to believe that they are right. In stage one, you know that they’re being ridiculous, but you argue anyways. You argue for hours, without resolution. You argue over things that shouldn’t be up for debate  – your feelings, your opinions, your experience of the world. You argue because you need to be right, you need to be understood, or you need to get their approval. In stage one, you still believe yourself, but you also unwittingly put that belief up for debate. In stage two, you consider your gaslighter’s point of view first and try desperately to get them to see your point of view as well. You continue to engage because you’re afraid of what their perspective of you says about you. Winning the argument now has one objective :  proving that you’re still good, kind, and worthwhile. In stage three, when you’re hurt, you first ask, “What’s wrong with me?” You consider their point of view as normal. You start to lose your ability to make your own judgements. You become consumed with understanding them and seeing their perspective. You live with and obsess over every criticism, trying to solve it.

[Source]

But you also see this on a broader societal level, with people asking unfathomably awful questions about minority groups, such as:

[Source]

It should go without saying, but no group of people should be forced to explain that yes, they really are real people, dickheads. The question doesn't deserve an answer; it deserves at best a disgusted eyeroll + "Are you a Nazi?" and at worst a punch to the face.

There is also the related phenomenon of the "when did you stop beating your wife?" type questions. The question is framed as a yes or no question, but the real answer for the innocent is: "I've never beaten my wife and never would." But even that answer still dignifies the question with a real response and puts the idea in the mind of the listener that hey maybe that's a real possibility and this guy is lying because of course he wouldn't just admit that. Now I don't know what to believe, but I'm skeptical.

Even if he answers, doubt has been cast on his character and many people (maybe even most people) neither have the attention span to listen to his full counter argument and supporting evidence nor are invested enough in strangers' lives to take the time to dig for facts on their own. Critically, it comes from a good impulse that shouldn't be repressed or taken too far in the opposite direction; namely, that we want to believe survivors and make it socially acceptable to speak out about abuse.

This leaves us with the uncomfortable reality that balancing believing survivors and whistle-blowers against not automatically believing allegations that very well may be false and/or in bad faith is a very tricky balancing act indeed. Because of this, people tend to struggle with taking survivors seriously and with presuming innocence until guilt has actually been proven, both. And as for the latter, this is at least partially due to the same psychological factors underlying the Don't Think of an Elephant problem.

Why am I discussing this?

See the thing is that these types of discourse have all been used, heavily, against the Jewish community, especially since Oct 7th, but really going back hundreds of years.

If you want to be our ally, you need to be on guard for how people use this rhetoric to accuse Jews of absolutely batshit cookoo bananas allegations (like being lizard people or having horns, or secretly running the world, or killing Christian babies to use their blood in our matzah, etc. etc.) and get away with it. Now obviously if so many people weren't already racist towards Jews as a people and had a vested interest in maintaining their supercessionist cultural worldview from Christianity and Islam, it would be a lot harder for this to work. Alas, the past 2000 years has created a bit of a snowballing effect.

This culminates in the effect described so well by Sartre:

Never believe that anti-Semites are completely unaware of the absurdity of their replies. They know that their remarks are frivolous, open to challenge. But they are amusing themselves, for it is their adversary who is obliged to use words responsibly, since he believes in words. The anti-Semites have the right to play. They even like to play with discourse for, by giving ridiculous reasons, they discredit the seriousness of their interlocutors. They delight in acting in bad faith, since they seek not to persuade by sound argument but to intimidate and disconcert. If you press them too closely, they will abruptly fall silent, loftily indicating by some phrase that the time for argument is past.

— Jean-Paul Sartre

Right now, Jews are facing extreme levels of these types of rhetorical abuse, and are receiving very little help in the way of pushback.

We have to stop trying to explain ourselves and start just naming these tactics instead.

[ginax0916]

Can you do a story where the reader has low iron or something of that genre and she passes out and chris comforts her? 💗

･:*:｡𝐈’𝐦 𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚����𝐬 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞ೃ࿔*:･

Chris Sturniolo x Fem!reader

Genre - Fluff

Synopsis- reader has low iron and passes out but Chris is there to comfort her :)

I’ve been hanging out with the triplets all day. We have been watching movies and we even filmed one of their Wednesday videos and pre filmed a Friday car video. Which all took a lot of time and energy. I’m guessing that explains the reason to why I feel so tired. I just feel like my bones are giving out. Like I have no strength. Not to mention every time I stand up I feel the need to grab on to something because everything is spinning. I keep getting dizzy and my vision is starting to blur and then come back. But I really just think I need a nap and I’ll be fine.

“Hey you in there??” Chris snaps me out of my thoughts.

“Hm? What’d you say?” I question him.

“I asked if you wanted to to go out to eat with us, we’re gonna go to the diner downtown” Chris said smiling.

“Yea sure I’ll go” I answered.

I stood up and immediately felt dizzy. The room was spinning in endless circles and my vision kept blurring out. I felt two arms grab me to keep me from falling.

“Woah you ok?” Chris asked with a worried expression as he kept his hands on my arms making sure I wouldn’t fall.

“Uh yea yea just felt dizzy but I’m fine” I replied trying to ignore what just happened to avoid any more questions.

As Matt drove us all to the diner I stared out the windowing thinking to myself. Could this all have something to do with my anemia? I’ve had low iron my whole life and just recently I had gotten diagnosed with anemia but I really don’t think much of it. I usually forget I even have it because nothing ever happens.

“We’re here” Matt said already getting out of the car.

Focused on unbuckling myself and grabbing my phone I didn’t realize Chris had opened the door for me. I thanked him before getting out of the car. And there it is. That feeling again where I feel like my knees are giving up and my visions is fading. I grab onto Chris’s arm to try and stable myself. He grabs my hips helping me stay still. My body feels weak and I lean on Chris for support. He wraps his arms around me helping me gain stability.

“You sure you’re feeling ok ma? You keep losing your balance when you stand up, something wrong?” He asked frowning. His eyes searching my face for any uncomfortable expression that could possibly give him answers.

“I just keep feeling dizzy when I stand up but I’m good” I smile at him. Though deep down I know somethings wrong I just don’t wanna burden anyone with my problems.

“You guys coming or what!” Nick suddenly yells snapping us out of our conversation.

We all ordered and ate our food and we were just waiting on the check. Nick and Matt were having they’re own convo about some video ideas they were both laughing about. Suddenly I felt a tap on my thigh and looked up.

“Ok what’s wrong? You look tired, you haven’t said a word, and you keep getting all dizzy y/n” Chris asked really starting to worry now.

“You won’t tell anyone?” I shyly asked looking down.

“Not a single soul baby” He chuckled, the nickname making me blush.

“I’ve been feeling off lately and I think it all has to do with my anemia” I said embarrassed. Chris noticing it.

“Why’s that embarrassing? It’s pretty common y’know?” He said rubbing my arm soothingly.

“I just don’t wanna burden you with my issues” I admit.

“Y/n are you insane? You’re not burdening anyone with anything. If anything I’m here to help you ok?” Chris said with a big smile on his face.

“Thank you Chris”

“Alright you guys ready to go?” Matt asked as he left a tip for the waiter on the table.

“Yep let’s go”

That’s when things started to go down hill. The car ride felt like hell. I was sweating like crazy but I felt cold. Then my hands were shaking and my teeth were chattering but I felt like I was boiling. My breathing started to become unsteady. I felt nauseous too. Every possible feeling you could have I was experiencing it. As soon as we arrived I opened the door to get out, and my knees locked. My vision started going black. Like everything was being painted black. I held onto the car trying to get support but it was no use.

“Oh fuck” I heard Chris say before everything went dark.

Chris Pov:

“Oh my god oh my god what do we do? Is she dead? Do I call 911?” Nick panicked like always.

“No it’s fine it’s just her anemia it’s happened before we just have to bring her inside and lay her down. Matt go open the door” I said as I grabbed her and carried her bridal style inside the house.

I knew something was wrong. Since the second we finished filming those videos I could tell she wasn’t feeling well. I just wish she would’ve told me instead of feeling like a burden.

I laid her down on the couch and put a blanket over her. I felt her forehead and it was really cold so I went and wet a towel with warm water and placed it on her head carefully. I gently held her cheek in my hand rubbing it softly with my thumb.

“Oh poor thing” I said quietly.

I got the towel off her head and sat next to her waiting for her to wake up. Its been around 5 minutes and I’m starting to think maybe I should call 911.

“Chris?” I quiet and fragile voice said.

“Oh my god y/n you’re awake” I said, careful not to startle her.

“Are you ok baby? Does anything hurt?” I asked holding her face in hands as she sat up. She sniffled and tears started to slowly fall down her delicate skin.

“Oh ma c’mere. It’s ok I’m right here. I got you, you’re ok pretty girl” I softly talked to her, rubbing her back soothing as I cradled her in my arms.

“I hate when that happens” She managed to get out between cries.

“I know I know I do too” I agreed with her and wiped tears off her face.

“Take deep breathes ma, can you do that for me?” I moved her body so she was now sitting on my lap comfortably.

“Yes” Y/n mumbled snuggling her head into the crook of my neck making me smile.

“Good girl” I praised her.

Soon enough the tears stopped and her breathing was back to normal.

“Thank you Chris” She said as she planted a soft kiss on my jawline.

“I told you I’m always here”

Was this too long? Ty for the request by the way I hope what I wrote is somewhat what you meant 😭 Also Tysm for all the support on my last post it means the world to me. Pls keep requesting it rlly helps 🫶🏻🫶🏻

[bratzbrat]

✟The Witch Hunter!

pairing: a witch!hunter Katsuki Bakugo x fem!reader.

cw: mentions of death! | naked bodies! but no sexual goings on lol! | female reader! |

1.7k words.

⊰𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑⊱ »»————> Typhoon!

you awoke to the sounds of relentless bashing of waves against the ship's hull, wood groaning and creaking under the pressure, as the men above, desperately try to control the vessel. the room swayed violently, and cold seawater seeped through the cracks in the floorboards, pooling at your feet. disoriented, you blinked, trying to gather your bearings as the storm rattled the ship around you.

heavy footsteps stomped down the narrow staircase, and the witch hunter stormed into the room, boots splashing the shallow water. his expression was stern, as his eyes landed on you, seething with barely contained anger.

"you," he growled, stepping closer, water dripping from his soaked figure. "ya' think you're clever, don't ya'? summonin' this storm to get ya' freedom?"

you met his glare, raw hatred in his eyes, that equally matched it's color. as the ship heaved and shuddered, his not so patient patience seemed to have snapped. he took another step toward you, voice hard and gravelly in his throat. "you're the one who called it, so cut it out. now." he towered over you, looking down as he grumbled his orders.

a smirk tugged at your lips despite the intensity of the moment. "i didn't summon anything," you replied, holding your ground. "this has nothing to do with me."

"liar." he scoffed, but desperation flickered beneath his anger. "but fine. can ya' get rid of it? or not?"

"oh my~ we must be desperate aren't we?" you teased and tilted your head, feeling the sway of power shift as he waited, "let's say i help you," savoring the moment. "what's in it for me?"

"we don' have time for ya' nonsense!" his jaw tightened, and he seemed to weigh his answer before finally spitting out, "you'll have a twenty percent chance of makin' it out of this shit alive."

"twenty percent, huh? how generous of you." you raised an eyebrow, amusement gleaming in your eyes.

he didn't respond, and you took one last steadying breath before reaching up, letting yourself feel the pulsing rhythm of the storm beyond the ship's hull.

"i can't do it. not from down here," you said, after a futile attempt. his gaze lingered on you for a moment, scrutinizing, before he finally reached over and yanked your wrists down, his grip firm.

"you seem rather trusting... i might attack you..." you teased, tilting your head again, as he glared, unamused. he said nothing, again, only grabbed the chain between your shackles and hauled you from your spot, dragging you toward the stairs leading up to the deck.

"i'm going to need my hands," you smirked, holding up your shackles, testing him.

"ya didn't need 'em to mess with my crew," he shot back, as he led you up the narrow steps. rain poured down on you both as you emerged into the storm, lightning cracking out and illuminating the rolling waves that tried to swallow the ship.

just as he reached to unlock on your shackles, the ship leans, almost completely tilting over, a towering mast splintered and swung down, catching him across the shoulder. and his eyes widened as he lost his footing, the impact throwing him off balance and over the side of the ship.

you stumbled to the edge of the deck, peering overboard to see him thrashing among the waves. "captain! a man fell overboard!" you whipped around calling out.

"not my problem!" she shouted, eyes fixed ahead. she barely glanced your way, her knuckles white as she gripped the wheel, futilely fighting to steady the ship. "i've got a ship to keep from sinking."

your jaw clenched, as you looked back in water. and then, everything he did for you these past few days replayed at the front of your mind. "ffffuck..." you muttered under your breath. with a frustrated groan, you took a deep breath and launched yourself over the side, diving into the freezing water below.

you reached out to the waves and pulled them around you, forming a rapid current to pull you through the sea. the icy water stung, but you pressed on, closing the distance between you and the witch hunter's barely conscious figure. grabbing hold of the collar of his rugged wear, you used the water to push you both toward the faint outline of a coastline in the distance. and watched as one massive wave swept the ship under.

you washed ashore on a deserted, snowy coastline, the cold biting into your skin. the witch hunter laid sprawled out beside you, his chest still and face pale from the chill. shivering, you leaned over him, your fingers finding the key looped onto his belt. with a quick twist, you unlocked your shackles and tossed them aside, savoring the freedom for a split second.

the stillness of his body made your chest tighten. you placed your hands to base of his well-built torso, feeling his tense muscles beneath the cold skin. you pressed down, and dragged your fingers along his abdomen, up to his mouth, pulling the water from his lungs in a single motion. he gasped, coughing up the rest of the seawater, and his eyes fluttered open, meeting yours with a mix of confusion and lingering hostility, as he took in his surroundings. the snowy coastline, the storm... and you sitting nearby.

"what the hell happened?" he barked, pushing himself up on one elbow.

"you fell overboard."

"where's the ship?"

"it sank."

"you witch—you sank the fuckin' ship?!"

"no! but I did drag your ungrateful ass to shore..."

"why?" he sneered.

"you had the keys to release me." you rolled your eyes, swinging the shackles so they'd clink.

he scoffed, "of course." a bitter smirk tugging at his lips. "you're a witch, your kind only thinks about themselves."

you were shivering but didnt let that stopp you from putting him in his place. "I don't know where you got that information. and I'm not—"

"don't care." he bit back, cutting you off. teeth knocking as the cold air blew his hair away from his eyes.

he sent a glare in your direction, and didn't waste words. with a grunt, he turned and started marching off into the blizzard. you hesitated, teeth chattering as the cold bit through your soaked silken dress, before trudging after him, each step heavy in the thick snow that offered little to no protection against the freezing wind.

after what felt like hours of relentless stumbling, the blinding white finally gave way to the faint outline of a small house. a warm, golden glow flickered from inside, promising refuge. the witch hunter grunted and quickened his pace, reaching the door and knocking, his shivering figure tense with anticipation. when no answer came, he knocked again, harder, and the door creaked open slowly, revealing a simple but inviting space—a cozy bed, a small table with two chairs, and a fire crackling in the hearth, spreading warmth throughout the room.

"get in," he grumbled, stepping aside just enough for you to slip past. you didn't hesitate, the heat drawing you in instantly. you stepped further into the cozy space, glancing around at the modest furnishings "is it really alright to just, barge into someone's home like this?" you asked, feeling a bit uneasy.

"what choice do we have? we'd freeze to fuckin' death out there." bakugo shrugged, tossing a log into the fire.

"but what if the owners come back?" you pressed, scanning the room. "where would they even go during this blizzard?"

he paused, a dark smirk creeping onto his face. "they probably went out to get more firewood and died."

"thanks... that's really comforting..." you shot back, rolling your eyes, unable to suppress a nervous laugh.

"welcome to reality," he replied, crossing his arms as he leaned against the wall. "out here. it's do or die." he dragged his gaze to you, sitting on the floor quivering near the fire.

he began peeling off his heavy, soaked layers and hanged them by the fire. after a glance in your direction, he gestured for you to do the same.

you shook your head. "I'm not exactly... covered in layers like you are." you said, gesturing to your thin, soaked silk dress that hugged every curve of your body and showed off the print of your hard nipples.

his eyes narrowed, gaze flicking over your attire, clearly unimpressed. "you're gonna freeze to death like that," he muttered.

"oh? isn't death my fate when all of this nonsense comes to end?" you chided, scooting closer to fire that lost it's warmth by the second.

"I don't intend on bringin' the corpse of one of the supposedly greatest water witches to the king." he dead panned, looking over your frame once more. "can't y'just, witch the water off us, or somethin'?"

"no." you shivered, "not in my current state..." and bowed your head, to avoid looking at him.

after about ten solid minutes of relative warmth, the fire began to crackle and flicker, the flames dying down alarmingly fast. the hunter cursed under his breath, frantically scanning the room for any sign of firewood. and the last embers finally extinguished, leaving the room in an unsettling darkness.

"fuck…" he muttered, his breath visible in the chilly air. and as if on cue, you began to shiver again, the howling wind outside becoming increasingly pronounced now that the fire was out. the damp silk of your dress still clung to your skin, amplifying your discomfort.

"take 'em off," he gruffed, as he rubbed his arms to ward off the cold.

"huh?" you shot back, incredulous.

"you heard me. take. 'em. off."

"where I'm from, its common etiquette to get to know someone better, before you tell them to take off their clothes." you jeered, bringing your hands up to 'cover' your chest.

"take 'em off or freeze to death," he replied, "I don' have time for ya' nonsense." teeth chattering as he struggled to strip off his own wet clothes.

reluctantly, you began to peel off the silk dress and the little armored details that had covered your body. the chill in the air intensified, and you wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to ward off the cold.

"now c'mere," he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.

you couldn't help but smirk, a playful glint in your eye. "my my, that eager to get me in bed, huh?" you teased.

"in your dreams witch. our body heat will give us a chance at survivin' the night." he bluntly dismissed your teasing with a huff.

with a reluctant sigh, you stepped closer, crawled into the little bed next to him, and he pulled the thin covers over you, letting the warmth of his body, that surrounded you, hold you for the night.

chapter 4!

thank you for reading!

find the previous chapters in my masterlist!

you can also comment to be added to the taglist for

✟The Witch Hunter!

plz check ur privacy settings before commenting to be tagged!

©𝐵𝑙𝑢♡

»»————>𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@annepamgkrth @pikachuzhc @icedemon1314 @katsucookies

[juanarc-thethird]

Hi I have a question are you still doing I have a license for that?

Yes I do ------------

I have a license for that! Part 3

Jaune is in the library using one of the computers checking flights to return home.

Jaune: Dammit, why is everything so expensive?

Winter: Is everything all right?

Jaune: Hm?

He looks back and looks at Winter standing near him.

Jaune: Oh, hello Winter. Everything is fine, thanks.

Winter: From the tone you had for a moment it didn't sound like everything was fine.

Jaune: It's nothing important. I just can't find flights to go home for a family thing, but I haven't given up. But thanks for asking.

Winter: If you want I can take you there. I have my own airship.

Jaune: Really?!

He says excitedly, but immediately takes it back.

Jaune: Oh no, no, no, I can't ask you that. It's too much. Thanks but I can't accept your help.

Winter then turns to the screen Jaune is using and sees where he is going.

Winter: You know, I was already heading to my family's villa and where you're trying to go is close by. If you don't mind making that short stop, I can drop you off there later. Also, so that you don't feel like it's too much, it would help me a lot to have some extra hands.

Jaune: For real?

Winter: Mm-hm, It's just a routine stop and then I'll leave you wherever you want.

Jaune: *Happy* Ok, cool! Thank you!

Winter: No problem. I leave early tomorrow at 7am.

Jaune: Great! I'll be there at 6:30am.

Winter: Understood. See you there. *Walks away*

Jaune: See you there! And thank you again!

The next day...

Jaune meets Winter at the airship port with his suitcase.

Jaune: Good morning Winter, I'm ready to go.

Winter: Good morning Jaune. You can put your suitcase in the back of the ship.

Jaune: Thank you.

He started to walk towards the back of the aircraft but then he stopped.

Jaune: You know, I never told you what kind of help you need in your family's villa.

Winter: Really? I thought I did.

Jaune: No, you didn't. What kind of help do you need?

Winter: I'm just going to clean the house a little. Nothing big.

Jaune: Ok, wait, let me see if I understand. Your family is the richest in all the four kingdoms, but they do not have a cleaning staff in their villa. Forgive me but it sounds a bit suspicious.

Winter: You're overthinking it. The reason we don't have Staff is because-

Jaune: *Interrupts her* Are you a member of my mom's club?

Winter: *Surprise* What?! What club? I don't know what you're talking about?

Jaune: That reaction makes me think the opposite. You know what, I'm just going to play it safe. Thank you very much for your help, but I will find another way to get there.

Jaune starts to leave but Winter stops him by grabbing his suitcase.

Winter: *Panic* Wait!

Jaune: Hey! Let go!

Winter: I swear I'm not part of your mom's club!

Jaune: Fine, you are not! Can you let me go now?!

Winter: Can I still take you home?!

Jaune: No!

Winter: Then I can't let you go!

Jaune: Winter!... *pulls* Let!... *Pulls* Me!... *PULLS* Go!... *PULLS!* now!... *PULLS!!!!!*

And with the last pull, they both lost their balance and fell to the ground. As a card fell, it came out of Winter's jacket and slid over to where Jaune was lying. They both get up and Jaune notices the card.

Jaune: What is this?

Winter: *Gasp!* Don't look!!

He takes the card and…

Jaune: What the fuck?!

Winter immediately lunges towards Jaune taking the card from his hands. She pushes him to the ground and using her Semblance, she leaves him stuck there.

Jaune: I knew it! I knew you were part of that weird club!

Winter: *She gets into her airship* I'm sorry, my love, but I didn't expect you to find out so quickly.

Jaune: Can you at least explain to me why my mom created this club?!

Winter: I'm sorry, but it's not my place to say. Look for the Witch, she may give you the answers you are looking for.

Jaune: The Witch?!

Winter: Goodbye.

Jaune: Hey! Wait!!

She starts the engines of her airship and flies away. After some distance, Jaune is freed.

Jaune: *Upset* Fuck, back to square one.

[heechwe]

lips of an angel | 𝖑𝖍𝖘

୨୧ pairing: lee heeseung x reader ୨୧ word count: 0.9k ୨୧ genre: angst ୨୧ tags: exes!au, established (previous) relationship ୨୧ synopsis: He's not supposed to be calling you in the middle of the night after months of silence. And yet you fall back into the same feelings like nothing has changed.

You wake up in the middle of the night to the vibrations of your phone. It was tucked closely underneath your pillow due to you falling asleep earlier than expected, usually putting it on the nightstand to charge.

A face you had not seen in so long lights up your phone’s screen in the darkness of your bedroom.

The impromptu photo you took of Heeseung that ultimately became his contact photo breaks a fragment of your heart. His shy smile, the hair falling in his face, the corner of his thumb that was caught in the frame from him trying to stop you from capturing the moment. That day is like muscle memory, but you have to remember the past is the past for a reason.

Your present is none the wiser, Jake sleeping peacefully next to you and not being stirred by you waking. Unaware your ex-boyfriend's calling in the middle of the night and you're leaving your bedroom to answer him.

When you press the button to answer the call, it’s chaotic. You hear muffled voices in the background and some kind of upbeat pop music. Heeseung has to be in a bar drinking or doing things that have no relation to you. But your breath catches nonetheless when he slurs out your name. “Hey,” Heeseung whispers.

“Hi.”

The line goes silent, the only sounds being Heeseung’s deep breaths and the pulse of a beat.

“Hee, why are you calling me?” you ask, whispering in your dimly-lit kitchen. The light above the stovetop is the only thing guiding your steps as you pace across the tile floor.

“I just needed to hear your voice,” he croaks out. He curses and steps farther away from the noise of the occupants around him.

How did he still have this power over you? You shouldn’t feel your heart sink in this way, so deeply you brace one hand on the counter to avoid losing your balance. 

Eight months ago was the last time you had seen him. You parted mutually, but both of you possessed less than ecstatic feelings about the end of your relationship. Trying to move on was a success, so it seemed. You have Jake now, and from the words of friends' friends, Heeseung had been dating around and doing just fine doing so.

And yet hearing his voice and the way he still needed you in some capacity makes your knees weak and a part of you anxious for the end of the call.

You never wanted to say goodbye to him in the first place. Loving each other was never the problem. The complications of life were what ultimately made you go in different directions.

Was it so bad to think about what could have been, and how much he meant to you still? Even now? Even if you spent most of your time denying it so the feelings never resurfaced at all?

“Sorry I’m calling so late,” Heeseung cuts through your thoughts, his words taking on more than their face value.

“We can’t do this, Heeseung,” you respond, your voice thick yet hollow from the emotions that can’t be expressed without tearing you apart inside.

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“It’s 2 AM and—” You stop short before mentioning Jake. You didn’t want to twist the knife in this moment when Heeseung was clearly vulnerable.

You didn’t have to, though. “He’s with you, isn’t he?” Heeseung asks. Mutual friends must have discussed your current relationship status, but hearing it from his own mouth—the fact he knows—turns the knife back on you, cutting without mercy.

You shake your head, something close to a chuckle leaving your lips. “That’s none of your business and you know it.”

“You’re right.” He laughs too, and somehow you’re sharing the same sad, ironic humor regarding the situation.

“You know, I dreamt of you last night. That’s why I’m out, I just— I didn’t know how else to forget about it besides going out with the guys. Yet, it’s just fucking impossible to get you out of my head.” Heeseung’s voice cracks toward the end. The tears well up to the point one rolls down your cheek, but you don’t wipe it away.

Why did this have to be as complicated as when you were together? If you loved someone, wasn’t everything else that made up your life supposed to be background noise? Why couldn’t it have worked out the first time, then this situation you were in wouldn’t exist?

“Wanna tell me what it was about?” It’s cruel to ask, but you can’t help it.

“You tried baking those mixed cookie-brownie things again.”

“Brookies.”

Heeseung laughs. “Yeah, those. But you couldn’t find the ingredients for it. And you thought the salt was sugar, and of course the end result was shit, just like the first time.”

His breath catches, and something on the other end of the line rustles. His voice is muffled when he says, “Christ, I shouldn’t be doing this.”

You sigh and hold the phone tighter to your ear. “Neither of us should.”

Yet there it was. That gravitational pull you  both had done a good job keeping at bay, avoiding each other all this time. Denial seemed to be the best and only route here, but time proved the truth would come out one way or another.

You would always find a way back to each other, even if it was at the worst possible moments, and it seemed like it was too late.

But was it too late if it never truly ended to begin with?

[strawberrymochin]

Springtime Fushiguros♪

Context-: exploring the memories of childhood of fushiguros, marking the spring time of you and satoru gojo.

Basically im traumatized by all the stuff going on in jjk universe, so imma create my own happiness.

The pink cherry petals covered the grounds, sweet smell lingering in the air, distant laughs of some family echoed from the field you were wandering in, thinking about the reason, he might have called you here.

Satoru gojo, the strongest jujutsu sorcerer to be alive suddenly called you last night, after having months of no conversation. He said he needed a favour from you, what on the earth could it be?

It couldn't be related to any sorcery since you weren't in this field, atleast now you weren't. Moreover, he has the potential to wipe out an entire country with his limitless. He is the first member in his clan to inherit six eyes, his birth distorted the balance of the world. What favour would he need from someone like you?

Or maybe it's the higher ups!

Your eyes widened, chest tightened, almost struggling to take a proper breath at this thought. There's no way this would happen. You had been carefull. Carefull not to let it out.

'Sup!' your thoughts were cut short by the voice of the white haired guy, as you turned to face him. He was in his regular student uniform. Eyes as deep as the mysterious blue sea peeked from the sunglasses. He had a playful face as always, though you sensed something off in it and you knew what it was. Others might not notice but you do. You always have.

'I might not be much of help yk right?' you smiled a bit at him nervous at what demand he might make.

'Ahh, it's not something like that. I'm not forcing you, but—' his voice trails, maybe finding right words, 'I would like you to take care of someone.' He hesitated a bit, rubbing his hand on his neck, his eyes directed to a bench on the field.

Your heart skipped a beat.

Two kids. A glum faced boy, probably 5 or 6 years old, and a cute girl who seemed a bit older than the boy. They are probably siblings.

You should have known he was never yours.

'Zeni'ns.' he said fixing his sunglasses. The girl smiled a bit at you which you gladly reciprocated, while the guy refused to glance you a look. 'Umm, what did you say?' you asked again, not paying much attention before, busy observing the kids. (Not to mention your heart which was breaking in pieces)

'They are zeni'ns.'

'Zeni'ns?? They are not your kids?'

Gojo be like-: ಠಿ⁠ヮ⁠ಠ

'I'm 18. How could you expect me to have my own kids?' he said being sceptical.

A brief wave of relief washed your nerves. 'Oh' you couldn't help but let out a chuckle at your overthinking.

'They are Fushiguros—' gojo started to explain when, 'you just said that they were zeni'ns.'

'Would you lemme finish? They are basically toji's kids. He took in his late wife's last name.' a shudder ran through your spine at the mention of his name. How can he be so calm while talking about it?

He continued, 'Before his death, he mentioned about his kid, Megumi. Megumi fushiguro. The kid is about to be sold to the zenin clan.'

'But he's just a kid!'

'yeah, I don't think none of us would want that. So, i would take care of that and the financial support of both Megumi and his step sister Tsumiki fushiguro. But the problem is I won't be there all the time to look at them, as I'm continuously assigned with new missions.'

'So, you want me to supervise? I can do that, but I can't be much to prote—' he cuts off your words.

'Nah! Don't worry about that. I will protect the three of you. I want us to raise them together. While we date.'

You could believe your ears, when he said the last part. You had always liked satoru gojo, and once even drunk confessed him, embarrassing yourself to death. He never answered that though. Everything after that took a form of such stormy blunder. Satoru had to go through all those horrible situations, losing someone very close to him. A memory you hate and desperately want to trade. Everything fell apart and you all drifted away. And when you decided to leave, for everyone's safety including yours, satoru wasn't there.

'kk. I will help you raise them.' you gladly accepted, shooting a kind look at the kids. This was a dream come true to you. A family. You desired it desperately, wanting to have a family, ever since you lost yours.

'Thanks. Move in with me then.'

'Sure.' you smiled to yourself.

And that was the first time you saw Megumi and Tsumiki fushiguro, taking them in, staring your new life with Satoru gojo.

A new trail of memories are yet to be traced in the springtime of your life.

[quinloki]

Birthday Request Event v2024

Gift Details ♥ Reader Style: afab Character: WBP 4 main Commanders (by request, "whoever I could fit", and the answer was, apparently, yes.) Vibe: NSFW Consensual AU: Mafia AU Prompt: Forced Proximity (get-a-long shirt) Gift Giver: @swanbrooke

Summary: Marco's mad, Ace has to pee, and Izou and Thatch have a solution that doesn't involve you going into the bathroom with Ace.

Content Notes: no peeing occurs in this fic. foursome, vaginal sex, anal sex, oral sex, messy kiss, cum play, mdni

(I try so hard to keep the drabbles short for these kinds of events, but gods willing I will I re-write this some day because it should be a 5k minimum honestly)

This birthday party is 18+, consensual unless explicitly stated otherwise, and BYOB

Marco roughly shoves the oversized shirt over you and Ace, holding it, and you both, snugly in place for a long moment. You can see the vein on his forehead throbbing, and the angry twitch in his smile.

“You two will stay in that until I tell you otherwise, yoi!” He barks more than he means to, looking you both in the eyes before letting go of the shirt. “You’re both members of this Family, and you’ll have to figure out how to get along.”

You and Ace exchange glances, watching Marco stomp away. “If anyone comes to me complaining about you two bickering again today, you’ll really be punished, so appreciate this and reflect!” He calls out in warning.

You both sigh, but there’s nothing to be done. It’s not like you’d been arguing in malice anyway. You and Ace just tended to get a little hot under the collar when you got into a discussion. There were no hard feelings.

Not as far as you knew, at least.

“Hey.” You prompt, looking over at Ace. He looks at you and raises a brow. “We’re cool, yeah?”

Ace laughs. “Yeah! Man, Marco really got to you, huh?”

You grin. “I think we really got to him, honestly. He’s pretty overworked, isn’t he?”

Ace snorts. “Understatement of the year.”

“Ah, I wanna do something for him that isn’t going to accidentally backfire.” You murmur as Ace picks you up and starts walking. “Where are we going?”

“I need to take a leak.”

“ABSOLUTELY NOT!” Roaring, you squirm to be let down.

“I’m not going to piss my pants!” Ace shouts back.

“Fucking hold it in!” You wiggle enough Ace loses his balance and you both topple over. “You should’ve said something to him when he put the shirt on us! You’re not dragging me into the john with you!”

“You want me to pee on you?”

“I want you to put that iron bladder to work, you-.” You stop, and both of you look up to see Izou giving you an odd look.

“… Get-a-long shirt?” He prompts and you both nod. “Marco’s not unreasonable, I’m sure you can take it off for a minute to use the bathroom.”

You and Ace exchange glances again and look back up to Izou quietly.

“Oh.” His brows raise and he laughs. “You actually angered him, huh? Alright, well, I suppose I offer a possible solution.”

“You’re a commander like Marco, can’t you like, decree a five-minute break or something?” You question and Izou shakes his head.

“In this situation? Heavens no.” Izou waves his hand. “I was going to point out that when you orgasm it usually calms your bladder down.”

You and Ace both go quiet, but Izou’s expression doesn’t change, and he doesn’t offer anything different. It’s not like you’re against the idea of sex, but the small problem you’re facing right now is that you’ve been crushing on a few people in the “Family” and Ace is one of them.

Izou is another.

“… What’s the worst Marco can do?”

“Oi! Are you saying you’d rather face Marco’s anger than have sex?” Ace grumbles.

Suddenly Ace was too close. You flinch, but you can’t bring yourself to worm out of the shirt. Instead you hide your face inside the shirt and try your very best to disappear. Marco’s another, and the idea of him punishing you is suddenly entirely too overwhelming.

Ace tugs on the collar, looking into the shirt. “Y’alright in there?”

“No.”

“Seems our sweet little flower is sweet on you, Ace.” Izou says. There’s a teasing sound in his voice, but there’s also something else you can’t place.

“On… me?” Ace blinks.

“… Not just you.” You mutter from inside the shirt. “Don’t get a big head or anything.”

“Phrasing.” Ace quips and you smack his chest. “Ow!”

“Mm, and who else would be included?” Izou prompts. “You’re already mortified little flower, you might as well get it over with.”

“… Thatch.” You admit, sighing. “… Marco.” You nearly weep his name, he’s so mad at you and Ace, and there’s no way he, or even Thatch - who treats you like such a kid - sees you that way anyway. “And…” Your stomach is doing flips. You’re either going to die of embarrassment, or get kicked out of the Family.

You poke your head back out and look up at Izou. It only takes him a second and his eyes widen a little before a truly delighted smile crosses his face. “Oh-ho.”

“Greedy for someone so small, ain’tcha?” Ace teases and you glare at him until he has mercy on you. You and Ace work together to get back on your feet.

“Greedy for me?” Thatch asks and you duck back into the t-shirt as Ace ruffles your hair. “D’aww, and shy about it too.” He grins and looks over to Izou. “So what started this anyway?”

And now, here you were.

Inside the shirt and on your back, Ace buried balls deep inside you, stretching the collar of your shared shirt to its limits. You’d pulled your hands into the shirt so Ace could hold himself up easier, and Thatch was buried in Ace’s ass to “help” him out. Izou’s cock was between yours and Ace’s mouths, the two of you giving it as much attention as you could.

There’s a loud crack and Ace yelps before thrusting into you so roughly that you cry out too.

“Don’t get distracted kitty-licking Izou,” Thatch says, grabbing your legs and pushing them back. The shift makes Ace’s angle better and helps Thatch drive him deeper. “Focus on getting her off before you pop, Ace.”

Izou grabs a fistful of Ace’s hair and forces his lips against his cock, fucking himself against both of your mouths at the same time. “And don’t argue either.” He commands.

“She’s,” Ace gasps, voice a mess as he’s trying to keep up with Thatch’s pace, and please Izou. “Teasing… my nipples!” he finally manages.

“Mine too!” you add. “M’not that mean.”

“Oh?” Izou intones. He pulls Ace’s head back again, stroking himself as he enjoys the view of the two of you under him. “Open your mouth, pretty little flower, and keep your tongue out.”

You do as instructed, breath falling out of your mouth as pleasure builds between your thighs. This was not how you’d expected things to go, but you were too far gone to feel embarrassed, let alone complain. The only way it could be better would be for Marco to be involved, but you weren’t sure you could survive all of them at once.

“Fuck, this is hot.” Ace gasps. He’s wrapped his feet against Thatch’s calves and is finally getting some leverage, grinding into your clit as Izou cums on your lips and tongue.

“Appreciate the gift I’m giving you,” Izou says, pushing Ace toward your mouth. “I’d rather be the one kissing those sweet stained lips right now, but you need to thank her for playing with you.”

Ace doesn’t hesitate. He licks your tongue before kissing you deeply, the bitter and salty taste of Izou’s cum shared between you. Your arms are around Ace’s back, and you squeak into the kiss, moaning as he presses in even deeper.

Your fingers flex against his back and you claw at him, sucking in desperate slips of air between sloppy, wet, tongue-heavy kisses as you orgasm against his cock. Your toes curl and your legs tighten and Thatch pushes them back a little more, railing heavy into Ace until he breaks the kiss.

Your sweet cries fill the room as swears fall from Ace’s lips. His hips stutter and he fills you up. Thatch isn’t far behind, the slow deep finishing thrusts of his hips making you and Ace whimper beneath him.

“You cum like a fire hose,” Ace huffs, looking over his shoulder at Thatch as the older man pulls out.

“Says the guy leaking out of me.” You sigh, a blissful smile on your face as the two of you fall into a relaxed fit of giggles.

“When I said I wanted you two to get along,” Marco says, his voice tinged with a bemused edge. “This wasn’t what I was expecting, yoi.” He’s leaning against the doorway, eyes holding your gaze. You’re practically begging him to join in, but before you can form the words, Izou lends you a hand.

“Ah, Marco. Perfect timing.” Izou offers. “Just in time for round two.”

[animentality]

not to be a boomer, but I do worry about the current generation of kids being raised with iPads.

first off. some of them literally can't hold a pencil because their parents never gave them physical toys to grip and play with, developing their fine motor skills.

you might ask why do we even need to learn how to write physically anymore- well, frankly, because if you're stranded on an island somewhere and you need to write HELP, you might not have the strength to hold a pencil, but you can at least hold a stick.

but on a more general note.

writing by hand helps you remember things better. it forces you to focus in a way that typing something word for word does not. a person can transcribe what a professor says without even thinking about it.

someone writing notes has to consider what to write and what to omit. it also activates more parts of your brain, forcing you to flex the parts of your brain related to learning and communicating, while also engaging the part of your brain dedicated to muscle control and precision.

but in general, I think the issue isn't even oh technology is bad and kids are getting dumber.

you can have PowerPoints AND take physical notes. that could help you learn even better than the olden days where you just had to remember everything that was thrown at you. or read very limited, out of date books.

the problem is that the generation that raised/is raising this generation of children just doesn't understand the true impact that all this technology will have on their kids. or they just don't care.

because our generation had the internet yes, but it wasn't widely accessible for most of us, sharing our computers with the entire family in the kitchen. it was also the internet in its infancy, where it wasn't quite so predatory, when it was lawless and disturbing, yes, but it wasn't weaponized by corporations trying to sell you things and steal your data, it wasn't flooded with bots and ai and all sorts of things that the human brain can't even distinguish as real or fake, especially when you're just a little kid.

that generation still played with physical toys. we celebrated when it snowed and we could stay home.

we also came from a gen that still, vaguely, cared about some form of community and had third spaces for kids to hang out.

90s children, who still had some memories of both playing outside on a playground and playing Mario Kart on the Nintendo 64 with their friends, who both went out to the mall and had a club penguin account.

we grew up with laptops and smart boards. maybe some of us had them in high school or college, but we still physically went to class and developed relationships. learned uncomfortable things about ourselves and others, the way humans do.

met new people and were exposed to new ideas, away from our parents. but not from some fucking influencer trying to sell us Sephora products.

we had to study for things, instead of just being able to Google shit for some bullshit online test.

which is also something that really concerns me. so many kids today can so easily Google answers for every test, and while tests don't ultimately matter in the real world, they still provide some basis for things that do matter.

like I'm just imagining medical students googling how to perform an appendectomy on the day of, and just using a YouTube tutorial to guide them through, and shuddering.

there are some things that the Internet can't teach you.

there always will be.

but I don't think my generation is really helping their kids find the balance that we were given naturally growing up.

the boomers and gen xers had fist fights and we had bullying someone online until they committed suicide.

and now kids use AI to spread fake nudes of girls.

but the laws haven't caught up with a lot of this stuff yet, and certainly won't while we have dinosaurs running our government. and culture takes even longer to change than laws.

I also worry because I know how badly covid affected kids worldwide. how they struggle to read and do math, because remote learning just isn't good for kids.

and I can't even blame them!! I literally teleworked for 4 years and even I can admit that I'm not nearly as good at focusing at home as I am in the office.

it's hard for kids with social anxiety and disabilities, yes I know, I know, trust me, I have social anxiety, and as a hybrid worker ATM, I highly doubt I'd be able to handle 5 days a week in the office.

but it's also not particularly good for kids to stay home ALL the time, entertaining themselves in their room and never being challenged, and never meeting people other than their parents.

the iPad is more of a symbol of that problem than the direct problem.

if your entire... world view is limited to what you can see on your iPad... I mean what a terrible world view you'll have.

you're a 10 year old using TikTok and all you ever see is the same opinion over and over until you can scarcely comprehend people who have an opposing opinion.

you see fake videos that seem so real. that must be real, and so comforting, aren't they, those videos that seem so real?

you let 30 year old influencers who are trying to grift people shape your world view.

and it's not even your fault.

your parents aren't doing anything to help you.

you're young and you're being barraged with entertainment and fake educational videos and how to guides that accidentally create mustard gas in your toilet.

your parents should be teaching you to find a balance between these things. they should be telling you what's real and caution you about the things you see.

they should limit your fucking time on the iPad actually. take you to a fucking park and let you roll in the mud or some shit.

and then when you're a teenager and a young adult, then you can start deciding for yourself what you believe.

but a lot of these weird millennial/gen z parents, man. just let your 1 year old scroll through vids on TikTok while you don't even talk to them or look at them once.

maybe it's because they don't see the harm in it, but I don't get it.

adults can watch TikTok all day and know, ahhh this is bad for me. I'm not doing anything I actually want to be doing.

adults can see other adults doing dumb shit and say ah you're sponsored. someone paid you money to say and do that. silly.

but kids are just kids.

they don't have discipline and frankly, that's not their responsibility. that is yours.

you should be teaching them that they can't have everything in life at their finger tips at all times, actually.

the iPad doesn't solve all of your problems, nor will it think critically for you.

so I worry about if humanity can really keep up with its own technology.

our species is still in its infancy, believe it or not.

so maybe these are just growing pains, and future generations will be able to look back on this era and know the proper balance.

but as someone living in 2024.

I wonder just how much pain is left before we really mature and either make it or break it.

[tassodelmiele]

Tickles

And here we are again with NSFW, a Ghost x Reader a little...wet.

There's a little bit of pissing content. Not that much, but please, read just if you don't find it repulsive.

I can't say much more, I should be listening the terrible lesson I've paid for, since Italy wants professors to be burned out from burocracy, and also wants all of our goddamn money.

...........................

Legs are trembling like pudding thrown too early out of the fridge; hip is burning like a char muffin.

You're a rotten dessert, too baked to think straight, too melted to stand on your own.

And in the hell of a disaster that mission is, you're finding yourself being held in two reliable hands as if you're a melted ice cube supposed to be spooned.

And he's doing it without complaining.

You hiss a painful whimper under the touch of his digits on the bandage, brand new and already blood-soaked. Your hands run instinctively on his wrists, but he's stone-still in his duty to support your weight.

<Lemme do it. Just hold onto me, 'K?>

You come back clinging on his gear, grasping fingers around it while his touch lowers to your belt.

Ghost's voice hit you like a burning knife under skin, tattooing your awareness of the current condition:

<No need to worry, gorgeous. There's nothing wrong>

No. No, there isn't, you know it's just a normal, physiologic need.

But maybe feel the urge to pee in the middle of a goddamn nowhere, while hiding from who knows what kinda enemy, and with your hip torn by a flying bullet…maybe, maybe, it's not the best way to spend time.

Particularly if you can't stand by yourself.

Ghost holds your untied trousers with both hands, murmuring: «'M gonna get rid of this», waiting for your nodding forehead to brush onto his gear and give him permission.

Is a little bit of a jump in the void as cold air hits your tights slowly being undressed to the knees. He makes all the right moves to not let you without a grip.

<'S bleeding?>

You shake your head, murmuring a: <No>, referred to the goddamn wound.

<Good. Ready to crouch?>

Your nod it's the signal to proceed, and he follows your body through the movement till you two end up squatting on the ground, you with yellow panties exposed and the overflowing bladder, him with masked eyes wandering on the ceiling.

You try your best to move the panites away just how much it's required not to wet them; then, you're kinda ready.

It's not working, though. And you realize it with an embarrassed clenched of your teeth on the inner cheeks, and a nervous breath that causes the Lt's reaction.

<Problems?>

You chew a flustered: <I can't>

He frowns.

<Whaddya mean?>

<Is too…full>

You know how much of a pain in the arse you're being, and you're expecting at least to be left in that dark hole, crouched on the ground, and be considered a lost cause.

That until his gloved digits slide down just a little from your hips, giving you shivers on your naked tights' skin.

<'Ve heard tickle comes in handy> is the rough, muffled explanation.

You can sense gooseflesh growing where he touches.

Ghost's fingers trace your body lightly, trembling a little while trying to be as soft as possible, to not make you lose balance. Your hands are gripped so tight around his gear, but he's a wall in front of you, holding you still with one hand and painting your edges with the other.

He makes a sudden move, sliding between your buttcheeks.

You whimper: instantly, uselessly choking breath on his chest; and a tiny, little drop starts to flow down there, dripping from your throbbing cunt.

You're not quite sure it's pee, though.

<'S working?>

You don't know how to answer.

And his fingers come back, raising on the little of your spine left uncovered.

<You're trembling>

You're knotted, clinging onto him, grasping on his gear while something drips between your opened tights, and it's clearly not easy for your brain to focus on something which is not his presence on your skin.

Ghost curls up on you a little more, placing his bended leg between yours, trying to sustain your weight as much as possible. His free hand is pressed on your back, pulling you on his chest.

<Relax>

His open palm cups your butt, squeezing it softly.

<Let it out>

Two fingers start a slow run, up and down between your bottom, sliding on the sweating cold skin, passing on sensitive spots with nonchalance, getting slower as they lower, rising up again, then exploring a little more, deep down.

Till he touches your lips, down there: just a brush, a slight sensation of his gloves.

Your guts make a flip; your bladder lets out a little more, and you're pretty sure your panties are not lowered enough down your tights to be saved.

<Good girl>

His voice is a rough caress in your ears, filling up your dizzy mind.

Ghost wide palm gives you a nice couple pats on your butt, suggesting kindly: <Keep on, darlin'>

One last soft spank is enough to stimulate your belly, making it squeeze how it is needed to let a stream of pee come out.

You whine, hide in his gear, so red in the face that your cheeks are burning.

He brushes a low: <Good…> in your ears, holding your burning body, be careful on not touching the hip wound.

<'S everything out?>

You're about to nod in affirmation, to let go of the uncomfortable position, get dressed and pretend nothing happened. Is not just 'cause your knees start to hurt, your hip burns and you're panting as if you were running a goddamn marathon.

It's the arousal growing in your lungs, infesting your lower body and causing your belly to indulge Ghost's hold and firmly collide onto him.

It's the whiny breath you can't control anymore.

It's him, giggling in front of your flustered state, and just letting his hands make its way through all the road between your buttcheeks to the edge of your cunt, wetting his gloves in your stinky juices.

You arch your back, ignoring the pain.

<Lemme check, mh?>

He drowns his digits in you little by little, moving them inside nicely, pressing onto your sticky walls to reach as deeper as he can.

Your bladder throb under his pushes, making you gag a cry.

<Hold on, gorgeous>

He thrusts a little more, in and out, just to find the right place where to press his fingers and massage you inside.

Your cunt starts to tighten.

He murmurs: «'S ok babe, suck 'em up», so amused by the sudden reaction of a little stream of leftover golden drops dripping down. He moves again, searching for the little button inside, pressing and pushing on your walls till he feels you tremble against him. 

Then he pushes again, drawing little circles inside your sticky cunt.

<Everything out babe, know you can do it>

You whine, throbbing and jerking in his arms, but he's not letting you go. He stirs juices inside you, massaging deep, letting your pleasure grow and overflow on his gloves. You feel your bladder tremble, and it suddenly, totally empty in his hand.

He gets out all of a sudden, tearing his fingers away from your tight cunt. You throb, sobbing a moan in his gear, feeling your grip loosening under the unsatisfied pleasure growing under your belly.

Ghost's wet hand reaches your face, holding your cheeks to lift your sight to him.

<Thank your bloody wound, darlin', or I would have already thrown you on the goddamn floor to fill you whole> 

...........................

[rambunctioustoons]

porch lights and fireflies

reader/moon, word count 600

✨

Your socked feet quietly stalk along the hardwood. Groggily trying to evade triggering the call of creaky floors. Led between the cracks of unpolished maple right up to the wide open doorway. 

Gaze not deceiving you for once. Moon sat alone on the porch, huddled into himself. So often darting away from you, you half expect his nimble limbs to straight up and bolt away from you into the forest. 

Polite statement radiating hollow, you could do better than that. Sitting down next to him, the squeak of protest from worn down steps earning you a twitch of his faceplate. 

But you're not getting your hopes up. "Hey," You say, barely above a murmur. Tightening the throw blanket wrapped around your shoulders. Hesitantly moving forward past the burn out porch lights. It shuffles further away from you, evading you entirely. But not running, not bolting. "Good to see you." 

"go sleep." He tuts. Tone lacking the heeded warning it usually had. No walled in corridors anymore to chase you in, free reign surrounding you. Left fumbling on if that had been the reason you've barely seen him since the 'Plex. Sun having no answers, and leaving assurances in place of words you'd just needed to hear. 

If it's more freedom he'd wanted, that they'd both wanted, you'd be more than happy to oblige. More than happy to help if they'd just stopped reverting back to old habits. Shutting you out of whatever was happening. 

"Go charge." You settle on. Sliding ever so slightly closer to him proves to be a mistake. Balancing himself half off the top step at this point, goosebumps of shame prickling along your neck. Face flush as you pull back again. "Sorry-.. I just- I missed you—" 

Words crumbling out into the open air. Brisk crispy breeze cupping your cheeks, as you hear another squeak. Much too sharp to emit from wood, but, there's no solace to be had if your fretting breaks the stairs. Facing his direction upright, you catch him holding a throw blanket bundled in his lap. Little time to really question it. 

"I couldn't sleep, doesn't look like you could either. I—" 

The folded bundle on their lap, rustling and squeaking. Their widened eyes meeting yours, clutching the displeased creature tighter. 

In the end, little feisty claws are no match for his clutches. A raccoon, bolts from under the covers and out into the open. Blurry haze of fur illuminated by startled, scattered fireflies. 

Statute no longer hunch, sprawled out along the steps in woeful defeat. That solves one problem. 

You know the answer. You know. 

"You were trying to bring that inside?" You ask anyway, deadpan. 

"it's small, and alone." He mumbles. "likes peach slices." That. Explains why the peaches kept going missing, and Sun's insistence the fruit just goes bad super duper quick. Yet, refused to quit buying heaps of peaches. 

"It's got friends nearby," Leaning against the worn banister. "I'm sure of it." 

Moon hums. An off centered acknowledgement it hears you, but. He's absolutely going to keep trying to bring raccoons into the house. No dice convincing him otherwise. Roaming around the yard, settling to lay down on a patch of overgrown grass. Gaze trailing sleepily between the stars. 

"Is that what you've been doing out here, all this time?" 

"sometimes."  

Crawling over, nestled up against your side in an impressive but entirely unnecessary half roll to get to you. Faceplate pressed flat to the ground, theatrically slumping himself down. Like his whole body had participated in a sigh. 

A click somewhere in his upper casting, chiming alongside you as you'd giggled. Something tells gauges this had been an impatient attempt to whisk the creature inside. 

"We should name it," Names spurring immediately to mind, but you hadn't swaddled it like a baby. Didn't think that gave you any real leeway. "The raccoon." You add. 

Muffled voice eventually piping up from the twilight grass blades. "peaches.” 

[literaryvein-reblogs]

I hope this doesn't sound confusing, but is there a way to strike a balance between using "simple" words and "complex" words? Like, trying to write something that isn't too simple or too verbose.

I think context is the keyword here.

What I do is I just write using my current vocabulary, so that I'm able to convey what I mean as accurately as possible. And if I want to sort of elevate my writing, that's when I might swap out some simpler words with more "complex"/poetic words, or maybe even phrases. But I make sure I'm using the appropriate vocabulary. How do we do this? I'm just going to copy and paste here an excerpt from this writing resource to answer this question:

It’s important to use words and expressions that fit the context so your meaning is clear. For example, different audiences for your writing will require different levels of formality: the vocabulary you use in an academic essay may not be effective for a blogpost targeting a popular audience. Consider the following questions to help you choose the most appropriate words for your audience and purpose. a. What’s the exact meaning of the word? Words may be broadly similar in meaning but differ in important aspects of that meaning. Consider the difference between ‘the fragrance of flowers’  and ‘the odour of rotten eggs.’ Both words refer to the sense of smell, but fragrance has a positive core meaning while odour has a negative one. If you don’t know what a word exactly means, check it in a dictionary. Also look up sample sentences that use your "complex"/fancy word, and see how it is actually used. But, once you truly know what a word means, wordplay can be your friend. b. Is the word attached to a feeling? Compare the two sentences: ‘The freeway snakes through the town’ and ‘The freeway meanders through the town’. In this example, snake indicates negative feelings about the freeway while meander doesn’t. c. What level of intensity does the word show? Many words with similar meanings describe different degrees of the same quality or action. For example, ‘comical’, ‘hilarious’ and ‘side-splitting’  show different degrees of funniness. Think about the intensity of what you want to convey when choosing words. d. Is the word formal or informal? Go for formal words and expressions in business communication and academic writing. In the following examples, the second expression in each pair is more formal than the first: (1) come up with / create (2) one after another / at regular intervals (3) huge / considerable (4) enough / sufficient e. Is the word polite? Words which describe negative qualities or sensitive issues too directly can be offensive. Good communicators consider the feelings of their audience. For example, when writing about childhood obesity, it’s more appropriate to use ‘children with weight problems’ or ‘children of an unhealthy weight’ than ‘fat children’. f. Is the word specific or general? Use words with specific meanings whenever possible to make your message clearer to your audience. For example, avoid overusing general verbs such as ‘be’, ‘do’, ‘have’ and ‘get’, especially in academic writing, as they don’t accurately convey specific ideas. It’s better to use a more specific verb or verb phrase to strengthen your message. Compare the impact of the verbs in these sentences: ‘To be successful, learners need to have high-level literacy skills.’ ‘To be successful, learners need to develop and demonstrate high-level literacy skills.’ g. What other words does the word often go with? Some words are frequently used together and therefore sound more natural in combination. This is called collocation. For example, we say ‘fast train’ not ‘quick train’, but ‘quick shower’ not ‘fast shower’. Similarly, it’s more natural to say ‘highly critical’ rather than ‘deeply critical.’ Additionally, be aware of idioms. Idioms are commonly used word combinations or expressions. These have very specific meanings that are not obvious from the words they contain, e.g. ‘a piece of cake’, ‘get the hang of it’, ‘an Indian summer’, and ‘after a fashion’. Many dictionaries list and define idioms if you look up the component words. For example, try looking up ‘Indian’ or ‘summer’ to find ‘Indian summer’.

But if you have a wide vocabulary that people have difficulty understanding you, maybe you can do the opposite of this and swap out the too complex words with simpler ones, haha!

Lastly, when you read through your work whilst editing, ask yourself: Does this sound natural? Does it sound like your literary voice? Do you recognise yourself in this written work? Or do the simple/complex words you've inserted sound too unfamiliar?

Hope this helps, dear Anon. But if anyone has a better answer for this, do let us know.

[aziraphales-library]

Hey, hope you’re well! Can you recommend any fics that really focus on the “politics” of Heaven and Hell? There can ofc be other themes, but I’m looking for the main ones to be political-thriller-style struggle. Thanks!

Hello. We have #heaven is a corporation and #hell is a bureaucracy tags with a couple of posts you may be interested in. Here are some more with a bit of politics...

I’m So Sorry My Dear: 1941’s Dance by Waspsfire (M)

It's the evening of the magic show, just after they toast to shades of grey. Azirphale finds the courage to admit his feelings to a shocked Crowley. They spend the next several days tucked away together in the bookshop but someone suspects that they are hiding something from Heaven and Hell. Things escalate quickly with visits from demons and angels demanding to know what has been going on and desparate action, and a proper apology, are needed to avoid destruction.

Face it alone by Angelica_Tree (G)

Aziraphale has every intention of changing Heaven for the better, but how do you change a large organization where everything is apparently working as intended? And who would’ve thought his new position would include so much paperwork? But Aziraphale soon discovers that his problems with staying afloat are nothing compared to what is heading his way; a power struggle between the Almighty’s Voice and Her Son. Aziraphale has to choose sides. Quickly. And without Crowley by his side. This is the second fic in ‘The power of love’ series. Can be read separately, since the first fic (Keep yourself alive) deals with Crowley’s experiences on Earth.

The Myth of Aziraphale by Shay_Moonsilk (E)

“I didn’t really Fall,” Crowley reflected, twisting the apple about in his hands. “Just, you know. Sauntered vaguely downwards.” “Downwards, into ruling the Underworld?” Aziraphale asked, unable to keep the dubiousness out of his voice. He kept his gaze on the demon’s face, lest he be tempted to eat the apple and seal his fate to Crowley. It did look rather tempting. The King shrugged and said, “Promotions come easy to me,” and took a large bite, though it was Aziraphale himself that felt devoured. --- Armageddon never happened. Crowley is the King of Hell. Aziraphale doesn't want to get married to an angel he doesn't love. Perhaps time in the underworld will help them find the answers they need.

tales from a bookshop by Rizandace (T)

Post-season-two. Crowley's moping, Aziraphale wants to fix things, and turns out, there's enough blame to go around. ----- “You’re being ridiculous.” Crowley very nearly falls over. Like, actually. He very nearly loses balance for no reason at all and tumbles to the sidewalk next to his car. He’s been playing Aziraphale’s voice in his head for weeks, he’s been trying very hard to drown out the sound of it, in fact, and now suddenly, abruptly— “What are you doing here,” is all he can think to say. He whirls around, and there he is. On Crowley’s right, standing there like he’d never left. Where he belongs, Crowley’s mind helpfully supplies. He wishes he could punch himself in the brain, knock the thoughts right on out of there.

Taking Your Heaven By Force by Varjo (T)

Gabriel and Beelzebub have a conference after the Apocalypse went down the drain and they failed to punish the culprits. Venom is in the air; they need a new plan, new directions, a new... something to direct their, and their underlings' efforts toward. Also, both of them just very much would like this to be over, thank you very much. Then, how would it be if they just cut the middle man out? If Lady Almighty won't allow them to have their respite, their Elysium, among the shattered remains of a burned Earth, maybe it is upon them to turn Earth itself into their Elysium. Humans should be much easier to sway and influence than their angelic and demonic brethren. One of them will win, in the end, and be able to have their much-needed rest in a world built according to their ideals.

two of hearts by doctormissy (E)

Crowley winced and turned around. He squinted at the King of Hell and his two-day stubble and expensive suit and bloody audacity. His Hell-trained survival instincts really didn’t like this. That ancient part of him who’s known this man-shaped being since he was a hatchling filed away his escape plan for later, however. Or: Crowley and Lucifer are siblings, and sure, they’re not exactly on speaking terms now, but that doesn’t stop Lucifer from knocking on Crowley and Aziraphale’s door on a Sunday morning, asking for help. Needless to say, it doesn’t go exactly as planned… [Or or: on relationships, the Throne of Hell, absolution, and the universe's most dysfunctional family—maybe—coming to senses.]

- Mod D