#writing that TONIGHT

[6ronze]

head empty, only higuruma

[the-raindeer-king]

The thing with living with a man like Simon, who's been through so much, is that you pick up habits to help the both of you. There is no tiptoeing through the house, no jumping around corners. Not like you could anyway. He's got a habit of keeping you in sight most of the time.

When he's deployed, you leave a note on the fridge saying where you've gone, in case he comes home without telling you. Sometimes you leave more information, like what time you should be home, which of your friends you left with. Sometimes its just the location and a reminder to take care of himself.

You started doing this after the first (and only) time it happened. You had been out with friends, when he'd returned home from deployment. Home to an empty house. Your car sat in the driveway (you'd carpooled with your friends), and Simon assumed the worst.

He'd torn through the house, desperately trying to find some sort of evidence that you were still there. That you hadn't been kidnapped, or left him. His search ended empty handed, and he'd had a panic attack in the bathroom, reliving the events of losing his family.

You came home thirty minutes later, almost giddy when you'd seen his truck in the driveway. That feeling quickly evaporated, when you stepped inside the house. It looked like a tornado had swept through, living room torn apart, all the kitchen cabinets thrown open.

"Simon?" you call, setting your bags down by the front door.

You've never been scared of Simon, never had a reason to be. But when he came out of the bathroom, staring you down, eye black smeared across his face, looking more like Ghost than Simon, you suddenly understood why people gave your boyfriend wide berth.

"Simon?"

He doesn't respond, backing you up against the door. When he reaches out to gently caress your face, you notice his hands are shaking.

"Thought something happened to ya," he whispers, voice hoarse. And then he's dragging you into a hug, crushing you against his chest, arms like a vice around you. It takes you a second to realize he's shaking all over, that there's tears in his eyes.

"No, baby. I was just out with friends," you reply softly, gently running your fingers through hair, nails scratching against his scalp. Guilt eats at you, feeling horrible for causing him this kind of distress. You hadn't expected him today, didn't think to leave a note or something.

"I'll leave a note next time," you promise. And that's stuck since then.

[ayatou]

the strawhats & their dreams

[sunsburns]

imagine asking wade if he still likes you when he’s literally inside you LMAOOO I just know he’d be so flabbergasted

i know a normal people fan when i see one (18+, fluff)

but jokes aside, and dicks inside, wade would likely get whiplash; his head turning so fast he can hear a crack in his neck, staring at you like you're crazy because just seconds ago you'd been running your gentle hands over his skin. your fingers brush against the divots of his scarred skin, your cheek pressed to his chest, humming softly, close enough that your lashes tickle whenever you blink.

wade's a little out of breath, sticky with sweat, and miraculously, rendered speechless. to others, a rarity, but with you, while still rare, is more frequent, especially after sex.

sure, he drops a joke or two, but there is a window where wade likes to sit there, holding you, skin against skin, in silence; listening to the sounds of your shaky breaths as you come down from your high, the sounds of the bedsheets ruffling with slow movements from the both of you, even the sounds of the old crackly fan on his ceiling.

and so, in that small window of silence, the two of you lay there in a warm embrace, listening to each other's heartbeats as wade's dick slowly softens inside you.

but then that small window starts to close, the silence breaking with you. you shift, turning to press your chin against wade's chest while looking up at him, "hey," you whisper, a smile growing against your lips.

"hi," he whispers back to you, but he continues to stare at the window, watching the soft light of the rising sun peeking in through the white lace curtains you picked out, a part of you in the dingy apartment he shared with blind al.

"we've officially gone at it all night. fucking like rabbits. and i can't believe i'm saying this but, i'm fucking spent. i might need a few weeks to recover. i asked for a bone and you threw a whole skeleton at me, peanut."

you snort, rolling your eyes, "yeah, right."

"okay, fine, a week is too long." wade hums, he finds your hair and runs his hand over it, twirling a strand around his finger, "i'll be good as new by tonight or at least by the time you scroll to read another fic of me, of course."

you're still staring at him, and wade, ever the observant, notices. he shifts, sits up, holds onto your waist, and brings you up with him. you have to bite your tongue to hold back a moan, sensitive to the way he's touching you, the way his dick keeps you full.

wade raises his brows (or at least, where his brows would be), "what? is there something on my face? i know i'm ugly but i thought we were past that. your staring is making me a little self conscious, sweetbuns."

"wade?"

"yes, cupcake?"

"do you like me?"

"what-?" he stares at you, eyes wide and nearly popping out of his head. "do i- what? what the fuck kind of stupid ass fuck ass question is that? you think i don't like you? we literally fucked all night. literally did every position in the book. i let you peg me! you might be the only person on earth that matches my freak-"

"yeah, i know but-"

"bitch, i'm literally still inside you."

that's when you can't help but laugh, grinning against his neck when he wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer. you love the way his body emits warmth, and you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him even closer like you want to live inside his skin.

wade holds you, his cheek pressing against the top of your head. and he groans loudly when you say, "you never answered my question."

"oh my god," he huffs dramatically, "of course i fucking like you. like no shit."

"okay, great. i was just making sure."

[saltymarshmall0w]

beatdown buddies

(You always read fics where the pit is instantly calmed by Danny’s presence, but what if it didn’t?)

Now, you have to understand, that Jason was long past attacking strangers in a blind fury. The Bats? Sure, all the time--- but he was working on that.

This particular scrawny, possibly-homeless stranger hadn’t done anything more than simply exist in Jason’s proximity. If it was any other Crime Alley resident, Jason would be much more likely feel a surge of protectiveness.

This guy though– he was different.

Locking toxic-green eyes to toxic-green eyes made the pit in his skin violently react. Before he knew it, he was hitting the guy with everything he had, and the guy was hitting back.

The groceries Jason had left his apartment to get spilled all over the ground as the two rolled.

Pulled hair, split knuckles, and bruised bodies, the guy’s fist hit Jason’s jaw for the umpteenth time, cracking his head back and making him look at the gloomy sky.

They only used their fists. Jason could feel the familiar ghost of weapons hidden under the other guy’s hoodie, but neither pulled their hidden weapons.

Despite it all, Jason and the guy shared blood-tinged smiles. Blood boiled under his skin in an exciting trill. He was angry, and it was fantastic.

He’s pretty sure he just made a new best friend.

Someone hit Jason’s back with what could distinctly be identified as a broom. He vaguely heard the sound of yelling around him, but Jason’s only focus was getting his next hit in.

Eventually, they were stopped by a familiar shade of blue and black. Strong arms pulled him off the stranger and pinned his arms down, locking their arms over his chest to prevent Jason from getting free.

“You need to calm down!” Dickwing’s voice lectured in his ear. “You’re going to kill him!”

Surprisingly, Jason settled in Dick’s hold, fight and anger drained out of him in the space of a breath. The fire under his skin didn’t keep flaming and flaming and building it just– stopped.

“Oh, Please.” The stranger was grinning widely, despite the model of developing bruises and cuts across his face. A burly man who Jason vaguely recognized worked at the store they were standing right in front of was both holding up and holding back the guy. “We were just saying ‘Hi’.”

The guy made eye contact with Jason. Blue, no hints of green anywhere. The guy winked. “Danny.”

Frankly, Jason couldn’t quite explain his actions. He felt stupidly chastized by Nightwing’s patented older brother stare of disappointment. Apparently, the guy couldn’t explain his actions either, as he disappeared the instant no one’s eyes were on him.

-

Jason arrived an hour early to Wayne Sunday family dinner. He missed cooking alongside Alfred, and offered his help.

He let Dick wrap an arm around his shoulder for a few seconds as a welcome. He didn’t seethe at Bruce simply being there. He chose to sit between Tim and the Demon brat when it looked like new fratricide plans were being drawn up by the younger.

The pit didn’t scream under his skin to hurt. Little things didn’t set him off, making him have to leave early. He wasn’t tempted to throttle anyone for existing around him.

The pit was just… quiet. Peaceful even. Well, as peaceful as it could get in the Wayne household.

It was a massive improvement compared to six months ago— hell, compared to last month.

He shrugged off inquiries about his black eye, citing it would heal quickly anyway.

-

Jason should have known he wasn’t safe.

Sure, he was on a roof one could only grapple to, across the city from crime alley, and dressed up as Red Hood.

However, Danny always reappeared periodically like a well-timed extremely therapeutic punching bag.

One moment, Jason was looking down over the streets of Gotham the next, he was being flying-kicked by a lithe frame. Something instantly recognized Danny so, rather the putting a bullet in him, Jason picked himself back up into a crouch and lunged at Danny.

“Hood? Hood what’s going on?” Someone called in his ear— Oh, right he had connected comms with his family that night.

Danny stopped suddenly, straddling Jason’s stomach, one hand fisting his collar, the other posed to strike. He blinked. glowing green eyes turned blue. “You’re not like, busy doing vigilante stuff, are you?” He asked.

Every bruise and cut from their last fight was gone, his baby face appeared as though it had never been punched in his life, making him look all the more punchable.

“Nope.” Jason answered, driving an elbow into the kid’s stomach and in the same motion ripped the comm out of his ear to toss it to the side.

Minutes later Danny was pulled off him, and the fire under his skin died down.

He blinked back into his surroundings to find himself on a rooftop with half of Gotham’s vigilantes standing in a circle around him, an unease that he could only read because he was so familiar with them written in all of their body languages. Batman held Danny slightly behind himself, keeping a firm grasp on the guy so he couldn’t escape.

“You claimed the rage was getting better.” Bruce stated in the way that meant he was supposed to answer his unasked questions..

Jason waited for rage and indignance to rise up in him, but rather he just considered that Bruce saw glowing green eyes and a brutal beat down and made a logical leap.

“It has!” Jason argued anyway. He sniffed and ran a hand under his slightly bleeding nose. It didn’t sting enough to be broken. “I haven’t lost my cool in months.”

“That’s what he has me for!” Danny chimed happily. His nose was broken, but Danny didn’t seem to mind the twin streaks of blood running down his face. “We’re friends with Benefits. It’s always healthy to have a little dead-guy on dead-guy action. You guys should really fight with him more often, his ectoplasm is rank.”

[the-apocrypha]

"We'll fix it in post" is a phrase from the film industry, but it is inherently funnier when it's spoken by a writer because--tragic--you are also the post-production team.

[phantomrose96]

The Ship of Theseus is a story of a ship which, over time, has part after part replaced. By the end, 100% of the original ship's pieces have been replaced. The paradox begs the question of whether it is still the same ship.

The Ship of Theseus is a story of a ship which has its pieces replaced one after another. By the end, every single piece of the original ship has changed. The paradox asks if this is the same ship.

The Ship of Theseus tells the allegory of a ship whose crew are replaced one at a time. Eventually every single crewmate has been swapped for a new one. No one left knows what the carved initials in the mast mean. The paradox wonders whether the ship is still the same ship.

The Ship of Theseus refers to a company which has experienced complete turnover and rebranding. The query wishes to know if it is still the same company. The debtors are asking.

The Ship of Theseus is about a family. The original constituents are dead now, replaced by younger generations which have dispersed, found love, married and gained new names. No one is Theseus anymore. No one remembers the bones. But the genes never forget. Who is the family now?

The Ship of Theseus is you, shed of all the cells which first made you. They're stardust again. You'll be stardust many times over. Who are you?

The Ship of Theseus is me. All my words have changed. Who do I get to be now?

[oflights]

helpful sites for writers

i have a little collection of websites i tend to use for coming up with ideas, naming people or places, keeping clear visuals or logistics, writing basics about places i've never been to, and so on. i tend to do a lot of research, but sometimes you just need quick references, right? so i thought i'd share some of them!

Behind the Name; good for name meanings but also just random name ideas, regardless of meanings.

Fantasy Name Generator; this link goes to the town name generator, which i use most, but there are lots of silly/fun/good inspo generators on there!

Age Calculator; for remembering how old characters are in Y month in Z year. i use this constantly.

Height Comparison; i love this for the height visuals; does character A come up to character B's shoulder? are they a head taller? what does that look like, height-wise? the chart feature is great!

Child Development Guide; what can a (neurotypical, average) 5-year-old do at that age? this is a super handy quickguide for that, with the obviously huge caveat that children develop at different paces and this is not comprehensive or accurate for every child ever. i like it as a starting point, though!

Weather Spark; good for average temperatures and weather checking!

Green's Dictionary of Slang; good for looking up "would x say this?" or "what does this phrase mean in this context?" i love the timeline because it shows when the phrase was historically in use. this is english only, though; i dig a little harder for resources like this in other languages.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

personal happiness or what the fuck ever

bonus:

[khaire-traveler]

I'm a big supporter of "the gods love you, regardless of how much you're able to do to worship them", but at the same time, it's difficult to forge a relationship with any deity (or even other people) if you don't allow yourself to be known by them. If you don't have moments of vulnerability, moments of silliness, moments of small joy even, then it's difficult to forge relationships or take them to a deeper level. Loving gods (or even other people) can be a scary thing for some people (hell, it was for me), but if you don't allow your heart to be exposed, even just a little, then you're not going to get back as much as you're hoping to.

Anything that's worth anything in life is going to require some level of risk, as terrifying as that feels sometimes, and in my opinion, having a deeper connection with a deity is one of those things that's worth the risk.

My point isn't that we aren't loved by the gods if we don't do a ritual everyday or pray every hour; my point here is that we cannot deepen our bonds if we aren't willing to dip more than just our toes into our deity relationships. Love your gods, and know that you are loved, but they can't really help you if you won't let them in, you know?

[becca-e-barnes]

It might be toxic of me but I really love when men let their jealous, protective side out during sex 🤤

I love the thought of Bucky cradling his girl's face in one hand while he holds himself up with his other, driving his cock in and out of her while whispering the filthiest thing in her ear.

"Shit, you were made for this, weren't you baby? Made to take my load." He's so lost in the way you whine, telling him he's right and he knows it when he feels the way your body clenches and flutters around him.

"Can't believe a pretty little thing like you is all mine. You know you are. You're my girl. Nothing else could even make me feel close to how you do." His dick slides into you, as deep as it can possibly go before he draws back again. His rhythm is manageable but you're pretty aware that your fingernails are digging into the broad expanse of his shoulders and back. It's not like you can be held responsible for that though.

"It's like you were made for me. Sweet and tight and wet and so fucking pretty. You're a dream come true." His self control never lasts too long and you feel the strain on it already. He wants to take you. He wants you squealing and whimpering and screaming his name so all your neighbours know who he is. He wants to make sure you go to work in the morning in a daze, unable to think of anything but the earth shattering orgasms he's dragged from your body. He wants to flood your body with his cum, filling you to the brim, claiming absolutely all of you.

"You're my pretty girl, aren't you?" He asks, using the hand on your face to guide you so your eyes meet his.

"All yours. Don't want anyone else." Your legs tighten around his waist, keeping him close in a way that feels desperately romantic. His skin on yours feels perfect and you find you just don't want to separate, not even for a second. Feeling consumed by him doesn't concern you, instead it's comforting. It's lovely to be his; to be wanted and needed by him and to know he's yours in entirely the same way.

[diorchids]

stepbrother!luke in the car !

“it’s too tight in here!” you yell as you settle on to your step brother's lap in the packed car, dress riding up as you try and get comfortable.

“shut your mouth and sit still, stop whining about everything.” luke groaned while his hands rested on your waist, holding you there as you protested. your parents ignored the both of you, your daily banter becoming normal. you shifted your hands while his hands were still planted tightly on your waist. he loved the feeling of wrapping his hands around your waist, having you under him, controlling your every move, and keeping you in place.

luke loved this. sure, it was perverse to think of his sister like this, but what’s wrong with it? you obviously don’t mind, you entertain it, even.

your dress was ridden up to your hips as you sat on him, strained cock pushing against his slacks as you grumbled.

luke’s disgusting, holding you down on him as he mindlessly rubs against you. he grinds his bulge up against your cunt as you try not to drool and cry out, digging your fingers into his thighs as you stupidly move your hips back and forth on your brothers disgusting cock.

he smirks as he quietly rubs his cock up against your sweet cunt while your mother drives. he slides a hand into your dress, groping your breast as he steals kisses and whispers perverse things into your ear.

“y-you’re a perv, you know that, right?” you whisper as you quietly moan and let your mouth fall open. luke’s hand slides down to your sensitive cunt, his fingers finding their way beneath your underwear. he rubs your clit in slow circles, making you moan softly and wiggle on his lap. “might let dad know—” your parents still oblivious to what you and your step brother are doing, chatting and humming to the music playing, “might let him know you like this, don’t you?” he asks, whispering.

“n-no, luke, don’ tell…”

luke whispers dirty words into your ear as he continues to rub your swollen nub. he ignores your protests, knowing that you secretly love the illicit thrill of getting caught by your mother.

“no—no more, luke…” you whisper before your parents get out the car, going inside the house, completely ignoring their children still in the car. “gotta get inside, c’mon…” your desperate attempts at stopping his fingers rubbing your soaked cunt.

luke continues to tease your sensitive parts, his fingers moving faster as he watches you squirm in his lap. your protests just turn him on more. “you're so fucking hot when you're trying to resist me. gonna fuck you so good.”

at first, you entertained it. this was fun, sure, but he was serious.

he unzips his slacks underneath you, strained cock pushing against his boxers before he pulls it out, hissing when the cold air hits his wet, fat tip.

luke wraps your hand around his cock and begins to thrust into it, making you gasp as he fucks your hand. “bet you want me to slip my cock inside you right now. wouldn’t that be fun?” you didn’t answer.

he takes that as a yes and wastes no time. he pulls your panties aside and thrusts his cock deep into your wet hole. he moans as he buries himself inside you, his hands grabbing onto your hips as he begins to thrust inside. “fuck,”

luke thrusts upwards as he watches you bite your lip and close your eyes in pleasure. he whispers in your ear. “god, you're so fuckin’ wet. you love this, don't you?”

he ends up cumming inside your tight hole, thick ropes rushing deep inside of you as he holds you in place, making you take it all as you moan and cry out.

maybe he’ll come into your room while you’re sleep, or maybe when you’re showering, he’ll hop inside for a bit.

[stervrucht]

Part 2 of some art to @cuips-not-cute's fic Blinking Red Light. As a treat🙈

[autumnmobile12]

Based on the way Touya and Fuyumi behaved in their very early years, I've always gotten the impression the Todoroki family started out with something of a healthy dynamic.

The reason they were born was pretty twisted and Endeavor's ambitions may have made the foundation rotten, but I think they were 'fine' until the genetic disparity with Touya's Quirk was detected. What's sad about that is if Touya didn't have that issue, he and Fuyumi would probably have been the only two siblings. Endeavor wanted Touya for a successor. Rei wanted Fuyumi so that Touya would have a sibling and they could support each other.

Natsuo and Shouto were born because Endeavor's ambitions meant more to him than his family.

And tragically, Touya and Fuyumi are the only two kids in that family who can remember this happy life. It's why Fuyumi was so desperate to get it back, and in his own warped way, Touya also tried to reclaim it.

Here's the thing that gets me, though:

It is very common and normal for a toddler to prefer one parent over the other. Usually, it's the parent they're the most family with: The one that stays home with and takes care of them.

Remember, to a toddler, everything is new and potentially scary, and that can often include a parent that is not always present: The parent that's working.

In the Todoroki house, Endeavor had his career as a hero, so we have the indication that Rei was the parent who stayed home. In that situation, the probability of Rei being the 'familiar parent' was more likely, so for Touya to prefer his father over his mother shows just how close he was to Endeavor. That probably happened because 1.) we can see Endeavor started training him at a very young age, and 2.) Fuyumi was the new baby and probably needed more attention from their mother, so Touya may have gravitated away from Rei on his own and went to his father instead.

Touya didn't see his father's ambitions for him. He didn't see that he was a successor as opposed to a son. What he, a child, saw and understood was that his father loved him and wanted to spend time with him. After the genetic disparity was detected and that pride and affection disappeared, he didn't know how to cope.

In contrast, Natsuo and Shouto never even saw the family happy. Natsuo was three-four years old when this happened. Fuyumi looks devastated that things aren't her version of normal. Natsuo just looks confused because, again, everything is new to toddlers. This was the normal he grew up with. Touya attacking Shouto might be one of his first memories, so he never stood a chance and that is why he left home the moment he had the opportunity.

It also explains his lack of understanding for Fuyumi's hope for a normal family. Fuyumi's mindset runs as, "We had that once. It's possible to have it again." Which in its own way, expecting things can just return to the way they were is a little disrespectful to her brother that died, and I think Touya's reappearance did shatter her illusion since she never brings up 'being a real family' after Dabi's Dance.

The point is, since Natsuo never saw what Fuyumi and Touya saw, he can't see what she wants to return to, so her decision to forgive their father is one he can't comprehend.

And if Natsuo can't remember the happy family, then there's no way Shouto does because this is what their home looked like by the time he was old enough to start forming concrete memories.

We're looking at two different sets of children, the older pair and the younger pair, who started out with very different childhoods.

[everysongineverykey]

ok alphys was a character ahead of her time and too good for this damn fandom honestly. she isn't some evil gaslighting lying cringey manipulator who only exists as comic relief for the love of god look at her with eyes less poisoned by cynicism and irony. she is a love letter to... well, a lot of things. a love letter to "cringey" people, to video game fans, to people who try to drown their sadness in fiction. she's so achingly relatable to so many of us that it really feels like toby knows his demographic like the back of his hand. we've all met someone like alphys. maybe we are that someone- awkward, nerdy, can't get over their past mistakes, terrible at phone calls, far more eloquent online than in person, only wants to make people like them to distract them from the fact that they don't like themself. normally, this character archetype is the butt of a great deal of jokes- just a gross nerd who needs to touch grass. but alphys is different. she is, as i said, a love letter. she is one of the best-developed and most complex characters in the game. her nerdiness isn't "fixed" or mocked, it's celebrated. her unabashed love for her interests and her 100% attitude is a big reason why undyne loves her. games, especially in 2015 and before, are not often so genuinely kind to characters like alphys! and in deltarune, too- alphys is still a nerd, despite not being nearly as traumatized as her undertale counterpart. her rambling about shows she loves is a constant across all universes, a fundamental and important and good part of who she is.

and i just think that's very kind, and very important.

[vifilms]

enemies to lovers with hockey player!vi and how she would be the most competitive girl in the world. to a point where it’s spiteful. your team has already won your game to be in the championship match but here you are, gloating in the seats, hoping to see you arch nemesis fall flat on her face but she does anything but. high she soars and with a convincing win she is more than happy to make her way to you after she’s showered but still on an endorphin high.

“came all this way to see me, cupcake?”

“you’re just the competition. don’t flatter yourself, violet. coach’s orders to scoop out your weaknesses and return them to her on a silver platter.”

“is it also coach’s orders to come tonight to our celebratory after party? we could make room for you, if you behave yourself. no game talk but then again, we both know you’re not capable of that. besides, you’re the one waiting here for me to get out. not the other way around.”

a challenge. one that inclines a slippery slope. violet knows you’ll be too eager to resist, sights set on pissing her off are too insistent to be ignored.

“says you. will sevika be there? we both know she’s the real top player and not just of the team.”

“we’ll see about that, cupcake.”