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bongo-clash · 1 year

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Right through the door (and all around the wall)

DP/DC week prompt: Lazarus Pit

'Bad News: Jason Todd finds a Lazarus Pit in Gotham. Worse News: There’s something crawling out of it.'

(No content warnings || fic under cut!!)

Jason’s felt weird the last few days. Like, weirder than the usual weird that comes with being a living zombie full of Lazarus waters and all their consequences- weird as in something’s up weird.

It started with some sense of unease, and maybe it was stupid to just put it down to waking up on the wrong side of the bed, but he started his days in a poor mood more often than not anyway, so he thinks it was reasonable enough. But as the week had gone on, he’d felt more and more like he was being tugged around at the chest by something, the Pit running through his veins snapping for something he didn’t know the source of. By the time six days had past, he’d well and truly had enough. Which leads to his current decision: ambling around Gotham trying to follow the feeling.

Which leads to his current situation: standing face-to-face with a glowing green puddle at the end of a nondescript alley, previously hidden vaguely by a large dumpster.

Now, Jason isn’t an idiot- in fact, he rather likes to think himself as the opposite of an idiot. And because he isn’t an idiot, he knows he’s looking at a newly-formed Lazarus Pit. There are only so many things that glow that shade of green in this world. But what the Hell is he supposed to do about it? He doesn’t know the first thing about how they’re formed, and he doesn’t know the first thing about how to get rid of them, but the appearance of one in Gotham cannot be good news. It could attract the attention of the League, which is a problem for several reasons, and perhaps more pressing is that its properties could be discovered by the local peanut gallery. The last thing anyone needs is for any of the rogues to figure out they can heal themselves with magic floor gatorade.

…He should probably tell the Bats. The thought alone pulls a grimace onto his face behind his helmet, but he knows in his heart that it’s the best thing for it. At the very least, the warning that people might start looking a little more green around the edges would be appreciated; the old man would probably go ape if he found out Jason knew about it the whole time and just didn’t say anything. Okay, maybe that makes it more tempting to not tell them- but Dick would be disappointed in him. That man’s disappointed face is universally hard to look at.

With nothing else for it, he reaches up to the side of his helmet and activates the com link he’d tentatively agreed to stay connected to. All at once, he’s greeted with the sea of idle chatter from the other Bats as they go about their patrols.

“Hey,” He interrupts, effectively cutting through the conversation. “So, I just found something interesting on my turf.”

“Little Wing!” Dick greets cheerfully, voice carrying over onto Tim’s com. It’s one of those times where Nightwing comes down from Blüdhaven to patrol with the family, then. “What is it?”

He takes a deep breath before speaking, knowing his next words are going to cause something of a stir. “I think we’ve got a Pit forming in Gotham.”

Right on time, everyone on coms starts speaking at once. Dick sputters in surprise, trying to form a response over the declaration; Tim is asking how he can be sure, and for location and size and ‘should we be worrying about Ra’s making a show?’; Damian’s saying something under his breath about all their disastrous communication skills; Barbara’s staying quiet, probably waiting until they’ve finished freaking until she starts up. Batman, though, is evidently not half as patient, shouting over the pandemonium to make himself heard.

“Hood. Explain.”

Jason rolls his eyes. “Uh, that’s pretty much all I’ve got at the moment, old man. Been feeling kinda weird the last few days- felt like I was being pulled about and shit- and when I tried to find the source, I found this bright green puddle. I don’t know what else you want from me.”

“Why didn’t you inform us of the feeling prior to this?”

He’s about to snap back at the man for being pushy when he hears a noise from the end of the alley. Immediately, his gaze snaps back to the Lazarus Puddle, and he blanches when his sees the surface begin to froth.

“Hood-”

“Shut up, something’s happening.” Red Hood bites, somewhat distracted as the frothing continues, slowly becoming more violent. “Does anyone know if pits can boil over? Because I’m looking at it now and it looks like someone’s left some foul-ass milk on the stove for too long.”

Barbara’s finally voice cuts through the coms. “Nightwing and Red Robin are the closest to your current location- ETA five to seven minutes. Do you need back-up?”

“I have no idea— holy fuck.”

Distantly, he can hear the others asking him what’s up, and Barbara telling Dick and Tim to head over west, but he’s too focused on the way the pit seems to curve upwards, looking less like water and more like a thick sludge. A thick sludge that something is trying to break through. The vague impression of a hand is pushing against the surface.

His voice is breathy when he finally responds to Nightwing’s cries. “Guys, I think there’s something in there.”

“What?!”

He takes a wary step forward as the hand continues to push, and then a large step back accompanied by a startled yell as the surface finally breaks with a violent splatter. He jumps to avoid the spray, and the hand flails as it searches for purchase against the floor. Surging forward, it discovers solid ground and quickly leverages itself onto it, pushing and pushing until Jason can see the beginnings of a face.

Dripping with the more concerning equivalent of sewage, there’s black hair with the vaguest implication of white strands against it, a heart-shaped face, and bright, blue-green eyes. Ergo: something that looks almost exactly like him.

Stumbling further back as they continue to rise, he hears Barbara announce Nightwing and RR’s ETA as one minute from now, and crosses his fingers that they get here sooner, because he’s looking at this kid like a fun-house mirror and he doesn’t like it at all.

The teenager looks at him from underneath the thick coating of sludge, shaking himself free from the last dredges of the Pit clinging to his shoes. “Hm,” The guy says, tone deceptively casual. “I wasn’t expecting an audience.”

“What the fuck.” Jason chokes, barely grasping at his ability to form words beyond the shock. The teenager searches his face, before looking down at his own figure.

“Ooh, yikes, give me a second-“ He snorts, before his skin takes on a strange blue tinge and the sludge falls through him, meeting the floor with a wet slap, which- gross. “-There! Sorry about that. Coming out looking like the Blob isn’t the best first impression I’ve ever made, huh?”

Jason is rapidly losing control of both his life and the situation. “What the fuck is- I- who the fuck are you?”

“My name’s Danny.”

“Danny.”

The kid nods. “Yep. It’s Danny.”

“Okay. Danny, can you tell me what the Hell just happened?”

Danny, apparently, blinks, looking back at the Lazarus Pit for a moment before refocusing on Jason. He’s never been more glad his expression is hidden behind the helmet. “Well…” He starts hesitantly, “I… hey- who’re they?”

Jason stupidly whips his head to look behind him, and- sure enough, Nightwing and Red Robin have finally positioned themselves on the rooftops above them- but he hears a splash and when he turns around, the kid is gone, thick ripples casting over the Lazarus Puddle. The two vigilantes jump down from the roof, coming up beside him. Tim looks utterly gobsmacked.

“Did that kid just jump into the Pit?” He blurts, struggling to choose between looking at Red Hood for an answer and keeping his eye on the puddle in case something happens.

Jason takes in the situation. He takes in the sight of his brothers, the green sludge smattered across the concrete of the alleyway, the remnants of conversation echoing around his head. He thinks about everything that just happened, and takes a deep, deep breath.

“This is officially the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.” He says, before promptly turning around and walking out of the alley, intent on going to bed and passing this whole thing off as a some kind of trauma-induced nightmare. He knows he’ll have to deal with this at some point, because there’s apparently a Lazarus Pit in Gotham and a whole guy that looked like him crawled out of it, but if he can just pretend that none of that happened for even a few hours, by God, he’s taking it.

#dp/dc week 2022 #The ending is weird because I had no idea what I was doing the entire time I was writing it #It derailed so hard from what I was going for so if it reads awkward that's why but still!!! Hjhdgfjsg #My One (1) thought was just that it'd be funny to call the pits magic floor gatorade #Yeah the title's from the Blob theme song it's just. The song is So Catchy.#I don't have anything written for tomorrow yet but I DO have the day 3 prompt finished so!! There Is That #dpxdc #Bongo's Writing!!!

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gottagobuycheese · 1 year

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A WIP I didn’t end up having time to finish and I’m not sure when it’ll really be “IP” again sdkjfhsk, BUT since it’s still February 15th in some time zone somewhere, HAPPY BIRTHDAY KIM DOKJA!!

[ID: a digital sketch depicting several characters from Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint, posing for a photo. A young Kim Dokja lays asleep in a hospital bed in the center of the frame. A slightly older Lee Gilyoung and Shin Yoosung crowd his sides; on Kim Dokja’s right, Lee Gilyoung half-climbs onto the bed to rest his elbow on Kim Dokja’s shoulder, while on his left, Shin Yoosung kneels beside the bed and rests her hand on Kim Dokja’s arm. In front of her, Yoo Sangah rests her right arm on the foot of the bed, a somewhat wistful expression on her face as she kneels on one knee so as to not block the people behind her. Han Sooyoung stands behind the bed with her arms folded over the top, chewing a lollipop stick as she stares at the camera with a tired yet determined smile on her face. Finally, Lee Jihye stands in the right foreground, grinning at the camera and making a peace sign as she takes the picture. /end ID]

#orv #omniscient reader's viewpoint #kim dokja #yoo sangah #lee jihye #shin yoosung #lee gilyoung #han sooyoung #it is very important to me that you know ysa is wearing a leather jacket but that ID was getting so long already :(#thank you ljh for blocking all the body parts I didn't want to draw skdjfhsk #LSH JHW LHS YJH and JHY *would* be there if it weren't 3 A.M. and I didn't have work tomorrow #alas #if HSY looks incredibly tired it's because she's pulled three consecutive all-nighters trying to get as much writing done before The Launch #also known as a scene from a fic I haven't written yet lol #perhaps some day...#anyways hopefully you do not hear a peep from me until mid-March #because I really really really should be studying so I don't die in approximately 2.5 weeks #but realistically #I'm sure the procrastination will strike again #ahhh but this felt good it's been ages since I drew anything #my attempts at art #sincerely hope I can call this a wip but I have no idea when I'll be able to come back to it #so I'm just gonna go ahead and post this and then hopefully some day post the ‘finished’ version #ideally with everyone else #maybe a background #maybe even a splash of color who knows #although I kind of like the sketchiness tbh #ANYWAYS TIME TO SLEEP

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wasawattpadkid · 1 year

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Housewife

Part - 1

Summery: Billy and Stu have been planning these murders for quite some time. Everything is going to plan until you show up. What happens when they meet someone who is just as mentally deluded as they are?

Pairing: Poly! ghostface x fem!reader

Warnings for this series: murder, blood, smut (will be more in depth on smut chapters), power dynamics, a dash of sexism, knives, stalking, perverse behavior, cheating,

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19

"Do you have anything you'd like to tell us about yourself?" You hated this. First days were known to be horrible for a reason. Why on earth would you want to tell a room full of strangers some random fact about you? They don't care if you have a pet nor do they want to know why you're here. The room was dead silent waiting for you to hurry up and sit down. "Umm-"

"What's your cup size?" A boy asked making the other kids in the class snicker. The dark-haired boy next to him smiled shaking his head in disapproval. "Steven I'm not doing this with you today, out." Steven groaned already grabbing his books. "But miss-" With a stern point of the finger she spoke again. "Out!" The class once again fell silent and you couldn't possibly feel more uncomfortable. You've done nothing wrong yet within 5 minutes you feel everyone staring at you with disdain.

Once the door closed behind Steven the teacher spoke again. "I'm terribly sorry Y/n. Just take Steven's spot for today and we'll figure the rest out tomorrow." A simple nod was all you could muster. All you had was a pencil in your hand and a bright yellow notebook sitting on top of your new desk. You closed your eyes trying to fast-forward time. This was the last class of the day and it could honestly not be worse. "Don't worry about him he's a dick." The note on your desk read. The boy to your left looked at you then the paper wanting you to send the note back.

With a quick scribble, you handed him the paper. A huffed laugh left his lips as he read "You are what you eat." The note was then crumpled and shoved into his pocket. That seemed to be the end of your conversation with the stranger but you pushed further. Leaning to the side you whisper, "What's your name?" Instead of saying anything he opened up his notebook. The black and white cover was scuffed showing obvious signs of use. He lifted the book showing you the inside. With a single word written in big letters. 'Billy.'

The class went on, no more pleasantries being exchanged. The bell rang signaling the tiring day was over. You were going to say something else to Billy but he was up and gone by the time you looked up. "So much for that." You mumbled as you got up. The movies always showed the new girl getting all the attention. Everyone tries to quickly mold her into their cult-like clique. Maybe it was the dress you were wearing or the way you wore your hair that made you look like a prude. Growing up with your grandparents sets you up for a life of social isolation.

The parking lot was crowded but not crowded enough to not see your bright red car. Just as visible was the short-haired boy sitting on the hood. "Get off my car." You scolded flatly. "Holy shit this is yours!? How'd you get it?" He asked bouncing with joy. "It's my dad's so I don't want you sitting on it. Thanks." You tossed your bags in the car as he continued talking. Just a second ago you were praying Billy would keep up some conversation. Now you're wanting nothing more than to get home. "Man look it's Christine!" He shouted as the girl next to him covered her ears. "Is he always this loud?" She laughed at the question shaking her head up and down. "Unfortunately. I'm Tatum, so you're the new girl everyone's talking about?"

A puzzled look fell over your features. "Who's talking about me?" Before she could answer Billy walks up to the car. "This is nice." His blabbering friend seems disappointed with that answer. "Nice? It's fucking awesome! Can we ride in it?" He turns to beg you. Billy looked over at you raising his eyebrows in silent confusion. "I don't even know you." What part of 'dads' car did he not understand? "I'm Stu, this is Billy."

"We've met." Billy says gesturing towards you. "it's nice to meet you Stu but I don't give rides to strangers." He walks over throwing his arm over your shoulder. Way too much physical contact from someone you don't know. "Well you know my friend Billy and now you know me. I'd say we're all friends here." Tatum rolls her eyes at her friend's antics. "If you two are going to harass this poor woman I'm leaving. I've got to catch up with Sydney. See ya, babe." She blew a kiss at Stu which he caught.

"Pleaseeeee." He begged. Just as Billy was about to intervene you agreed. "Fine but no food, drink, cigarettes, or really anything that could mess up this car. Got it?" You laid out the rules as you climbed into the driver's seat. Stu bit his lip nodding his head. "Yes ma'am. Come on man." Stu said as he jumped in the car. Billy stood awkwardly looking down at his feet. His eyes nervously looked around almost like he was late for something. "Go without me I've got some errands to run." Stu stuck his head out of the window. You tapped the steering wheel impatiently. "Come on man Christine is like your favorite movie." At this, Billy laughed.

"No, I think you're confusing things. A murderous car is definitely more your speed." At this point, you regretted saying yes to Stu. "Please come with us I don't trust him." Stu covered his heart in fake hurt. "If you should be worried about anybody you should worry about Billy." You seriously doubted that. Sure he was quiet and a little unnerving but he might just be shy. "Fuck it." His hands smack his thighs in defeat. Stu loudly rejoices at his friend's surrender. "Get in the back."

You figured Stu would put up a fight considering he was there first. Yet he opened the door with sad eyes and quietly got into the back. It was strange. You weren't sure how long these two had been friends but it was an odd dynamic. "Why do you get to sit next to her?" Stu whined from the back seat. "Because she doesn't trust you." A laugh forced its way from your throat. "Who said I trusted you? According to him, I should be careful around you." You pointed to the man in the back who gladly smiled. Billy propped his arm on the window shaking his head slightly. "I'm sorry but dressed like that you need to be careful with everyone."

"Gotta agree with him on that. You look like Betty Crocker." Stu leaned his head on the seat between you and Billy. "Don't get me wrong it's kinda sexy but still very grandma." With a roll of your eyes, you started the car, hearing the engine purr to life. The boy next to you cracked such a small smile you'd have to catch it on camera for proof that it happened. "This is amazing! I fucking love you, Betty Crocker." Stu kissed you on the cheek making your nose crinkle. At that, Billy actually laughed. Nothing too dramatic though. "Ew can you not touch me at all? Jesus Christ." With one hand on the wheel, you took the other to wipe your cheek.

"Now you see what I put up with," Billy adds. "Oh, so you kiss him too huh?" You drove out of the parking lot heading to the main road. "Only on weekends." Stu shrugged. You giggled but Billy didn't seem to find anything funny. "So what brings you to this hell hole?" He asks still keeping his eyes out the window. "Me and my moved into my grandparent's house after they passed. He found a good job here too so ta-da here I am" Stu leaned forward to press buttons on the dash which you promptly swatted his hand away. "What is your deal with this car?"

Stu seemed shocked you had to even ask. "It's Christine baby! The man-eating car." You blinked a few times a little confused. "You know the John Carpenter film? Came out in 1983. Same guy that directed Halloween with Michael Myers." Billy seemed interested in this conversation more so than others. His whole body seem to turn towards you actively listening to anything you had to say. "Of course, I know Halloween I've just not seen Christine." It was Billy's turn to pick at you. "You're telling me you've never seen Christine but you've got the car?"

He must be brain-dead to think you got a car based on a movie. "This is a 58' Plymouth. It is way older than the Christine movie. I've got the original if you ask me." Stu looked like he was adding numbers to fact-check your math. Billy on the other hand had the same stoic expression on his face. His eyes dragged up and down you seemingly trying to figure out something. "Say where do you two live?" Stu gave out directions to his house without hesitation. "You can just drop me off at his place." You nod in Billy's direction as you focus on the road.

"Why do you dress like this?" Billy picks at the fabric of your dress. It seems no one in this town knows what personal boundaries are. But you guess it beats the awkwardness of a new friendship. With these two it's like you jumped ahead. "I like it." Plain and simple. Billy wasn't buying it either was Stu. "It's more than just that. You know people look at you differently do you get off on that sort of thing?" The question was rude. If you had a backbone of any sort you throw him out of the moving car. Being a people pleaser however made you give him an honest answer. "Maybe. Do I notice when people look at me hatefully? Duh. But at the end of the day, I'm happy they looked at me at all. I mean you both look like every other teenage boy out there. You don't want to stand out?"

Stu liked your answer it was honestly one he could relate to. "No, we like to blend in." That was all Billy said. It was a change from the chattiness before. "Well, what about you Stu?" Billy turned to look back at the boy. Meanwhile he was happy at being included. When it was just him with some girls he could say whatever he felt like. When Billy was around things were different. Just with his eyes he could tell Stu what and what not to say. He didn't mind of course he loved Billy more than he would ever know really. Plus he knew his personality could be a lot for new people. It was nice to have someone to let him know when enough was enough.

"Like he said we like to blend in. We're not big attention whores." He laughed. You don't think the comment was aimed at you but you couldn't help but feel a little hurt by it. "What's your name?" Stu asked while he lay down in the back seat. "Y/n." Billy once again needed more of an answer. "Y/n what?" He was looking for a last name. "Wouldn't you like to know?" Stu's eyes shot back and forth between you two. "I would. That's why I asked."

"Well, you ask too many questions. Unless you're looking to change my last name I don't know why you'd need to know." Billy wasn't mad. Aggravated sure but not mad. You were smart. Not smart enough to tell two psychos to fuck off but smart enough to not hand out personal information easily. He'd have to work for it which he loved to do. "Is your place down this road Stu?" The boy perked up. A little sad that the ride was over. "Yeah just go on down."

"What are you doing this weekend?" Billy asked seeing his window of opportunity was closing. "Nothing much why?" More boring and cryptic answers. "We should come over to your place this weekend seeing as nothing's going on." Billy looked at his friend for backup. "Absolutely! I could bring a copy of Christine and we could get mad wasted!" Billy closed his eyes regretting asking him for anything. "I don't drink. Never had a reason to."

"Well, Ms. Crocker I'm giving you one." Unfortunately for these two you had self-preservation skills. Getting drunk with two men you don't know at your house is not smart. They act like you haven't seen any scary movies. "I'm not getting drunk with you two. I'll think about hanging out this weekend but no drinking. My dad would kill me if he knew I had two dudes in the house let alone drunk dudes." Billy could work with that. Stu was practically jumping at the idea to hang with you. For once he didn't have ulterior motives. He couldn't say the same for his friend who had that gleam in his eye he's seen before.

You pulled into the driveway saying goodbye to your new friends. "See you at school tomorrow?" Billy asked knowing the seat you occupied today would be permanently vacant so you could stay next to him. "Unfortunately. Bye, losers." You waved at the guys ready to get the hell home. The boys watched as you pulled away, the bright red car was easy to follow down the road. "What do you think about her?" Billy asked his friend. "She's alright man. Needs better taste in movies but I can fix that." Billy agreed but something just wasn't sitting right with him. In one day you managed to weasel your way into their lives. He wasn't sure if he wanted to watch movies with you or make you the star of one.

Part 2

A/N: I've been writing for about 5 years now but I'm new to the Scream fandom. I just recently watched the first movie and I can't seem to get these two out of my head so feedback is greatly appreciated! See ya lovelies 💞

#scream #scream 1996 #ghostface #poly!ghostface #billy loomis #stu macher #billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader #scream fanfic #scream fanfiction #scream x reader #ghostface x reader #housewife #x reader #slashers #slasher x reader #horror

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strawberrylabs · 6 months

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Goodnight with Genshin characters! (Pt 1)

Featuring: Lyney, Freminet, Kazuha, Venti, Cyno and Childe

Summary: Nights with some of the Genshin cast based on their voice lines!

Warnings: some of these are quite angsty!(it depends on the voice line of the character), and some also contain spoilers for character lore!

Note: this is my apology post for being a solid 19 posts behind whumptober and ignoring my inbox<///3 im getting there guys I promise!!!

Lyney! (125)

"Good night. If you have trouble falling asleep, I have a few little props used for hypnosis that might help... or Maybe not. Either way, sweet dreams!"

Lyney's gentle smile after his comedic suggestion helps you feel at ease. He comes up with something different every night- you really don't know how he hasn't run out of magic-related-sleep-remedies yet.

He often goes to bed after you. Whether he's up practising some magic for his next show or doing some work for Father in the veil of the night doesn't matter to you. As long as you awake to find him there, unharmed, you can manage falling asleep with out him.

But, on the rare occaision he goes to bed at the same time as you, sharing in your night-time routine and holding your hand under the covers, the two of you can stay up for hours talking about anything, everything and nothing.

Freminet (156)

"You go ahead, I'm gonna stay up and read for a while. Hmm? What am I reading? It's, um... It's about diving. There's a bunch of skills I need to... Anyway, night!"

It's not uncommon for Freminet to read before bed. If you're lucky, he may even read with you next to him, allowing you to read along, always checking to make sure you've finished the page before turning.

Althought every night he says he's reading about diving, or marine life, or automechs, you've learned to pick up on the slight rouge of his cheeks, and the stutter that becomes a little more apparent when he lies about what he's reading. It's on these nights you know he's reading about Pers, and it's on these nights you know to leave him be.

Whether he chooses to sleep with you- in the same bed or the same room or the same house- you know not to betray that trust. And for as long as you respect him and his boundaries, he will be grateful.

Sometimes, in the night, you think you feel yourself awake to a faint 'thank you',

Kazuha (194)

"The wind has ceased... The world is silent, so now is the best time to rest well. See you tomorrow."

Kazuha often doesn't join you during the night, whether you are choosing to sleep or stay up. He opts to sit in the crows nest of the crux, listening to the silence of the night. He'll swear that from up there, it appears as if the world itself has gone to sleep with the night- the sea acts as a blanket for the life below, the stars and moon a night light for the trees and the sand and the surf, the clouds casting a shadow of calm upon the land.

Kazuha spends his nights writing about what he sees, and when you awake you find a poem written in his hand about how the beauty of the night reminds him of you.

On the nights when the land is not calm with dreams, but instead enraged with nightmares, he will sit with you in your cabin, and chat about the day gone by. Despite the conditions outside your walls, you sleep best on those nights. The nights where you awake to find you had both fallen asleep with smiles on your faces, after long conversations that drift into the night on lovesick clouds.

Venti

"Off to the land of nod? Haha, farewell, my friend!" (318)

You loath the nights where Venti bids you goodnight without joining you. You can tell by looking at the way he looks everywhere but you, by the way he laughs- hollow and false, so unlike his usual mellodic, spring filled chuckles- and you can tell by the way he says "friend", that he'll be spending his night alone in the hands of his statue, or at Windrise, or at Stormterrors lair. You know he'll be contemplating the centuries of his past.

He'll sit in his own hands, because they're not really his hands, but the hands of his first companion; and by doing so he can feel that maybe the memory of that unnamed bard who he held so dear is not truly forgotten by his people- after all, they built a statue of him, even if they did it unknowingly. He'll gaze at the bark and the leaves of the tree at Windrise, and recall how he let Mondstadt fall into the hands of couption and tyranny due to his negligance the first time around. He'll gaze upon the ruin's of Stormterro's lair- of Old Mondstadt- and replay the events from thousands of years ago, when he was just too weak, too slow, too powerless to save the first being to make him feel something.

You know you should leave him alone. Let him sort through his mind and his memories. But you also know that his mind plays the nastiest, cruelist of tricks on him- dragging him down with nightmares and jabs of "what if's" and "why's".

So when he turns to retreat into the neverending chasm of his mind, you reach out and grab his hand. You follow him into the chasm, and help brighten the darkness with the light of your presence.

Venti is reluctant to admit it- but he will.

'The monsters of my mind seem a little less scary with you here.'

Cyno

"Goodnight. Now, there's some criminal activity nearby that I'll go deal with."

You can't help but worry about Cyno when he says he's going out late to deal with something like this. You know as the General Mahamatra he has various responsibilities he must uphold. But when you're alone at night, your thoughts wander, and you ponder more on his situation.

You wonder, if his father hadn't suffered such a fate, would Cyno still be doing such dangerous jobs as a Matra? Or would he be a regular Spantamad scholar of the Akademiya? If he hadn't been pushed into this position, would he be lying with you now, drifting to a dreamless sleep with you, and not risking his life without recognition- or at least not the recognition he deserves.

You know it's not your place to think these things. Cyno is happy with his job, happy to follow after his Father, regardless of what things are said about him.

You quash your fears and your thoughts when you hear him return. He never left you for long. You knew he would always return to you. And he had every intention of doing so as long as the need remained.

Childe (182)

"Today was great. See you tomorrow, comrade!"

You always chuckled at his Ajax's tendancy to call everyone comrade. You teased him about it whenever it happened, and he always laughs with you and exclaims 'it's just habit!'

You know Ajax is busy, and he'd have less work during the day if he worked through the night. But he always insists on going to bed with you.

He created a bed-time-skin-care routine for you both- courtesy of him buying all the products. He puts is hair in a headband and follows the usual plan to a T.

When it's time to sleep, he smiles warmly at you. You pretend not to see the sadness in his eyes. He pretends it isn't there too.

So, for as long as the shadows of night will hide the pair of you, you'll bask in each others warmth, and soak up the laughter and the kisses you share.

And when the morning comes, as Ajax leaves to do jobs you never speak of, you will both eagerly await the fall of the sky's curtains, so you can forget the worries of reality once again.

Hope you enjoyed!

-Strawberry

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#genshin impact #The steambird: Hot off the press!#The steambird: Lyney #the steambird: freminet #lyney x reader #freminet x reader #genshin impact x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #cyno x reader #venti x reader #kazuha x reader

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vienssunshine · 4 months

Text

I just wanna get high with my best friend

pairing: Maki Zenin x fem!reader nsfw: shotgunning, kissing cw: cheating, weed use author's note: this work is inspired by this song

You weren’t sure why Maki turned so cold when you got a boyfriend. The two of you were so close, constantly having sleepovers in your dorm rooms, training together, eating together, really doing anything and everything as long as it was together. But, that all slowed down when you started dating a male sorcerer from another school. You still saw Maki every day, but something felt off now. Every time you talked about your boyfriend, she always had something negative to say about him. Her comment “I could treat you way better than him” was especially difficult to brush off.

The tension comes to a head when you’re spending another late night in your dorm room, sharing a bed and a blunt.

You blow a cloud of smoke from your mouth and a warm haze begins to flood your bloodstream, contrasting the cold, winter air the cracked window is letting into the room. Maki always has the best stuff; you’re feeling much more relaxed now—the stress of your new relationship and Maki’s strange behavior has been weighing on you.

Your phone dings; the noise is shrill. “Oh, he texted me,” you notice.

Maki takes the blunt from your fingers, choosing to take a drag rather than respond. She leans back on one of your pillows, amber eyes lowered and not focused on anything.

You bring your phone into your lap. “He wants to go ice-skating tomorrow.”

“You hate being cold," she says.

You look up from your phone. “Well, yeah. But, I don't know, maybe ice-skating could still be fun.”

Maki huffs and rolls her eyes. “He’s an idiot.”

“Go easy on him, okay?” you smile, texting him back, “He hasn’t known me as long as you have.”

“He doesn’t know you at all,” she says, placing the joint back between her lips.

You send a text to your boyfriend: “Ice-skating sounds good.”

He responds immediately: "Ight, be there around 3.”

That’s when your training sessions are. You press your lips together; you’re certain you’ve told him that before.

You begin typing your response when Maki turns her head. “Hey, want to try something cool?”

Text message half-written, you put down your phone. “Uh, sure. What are you thinking?”

“Want to try shotgunning?” Maki asks. Her expression is far more interested after the change in subject.

You tilt your head. “What’s shotgunning?”

“Here, I’ll show you. Come closer.”

You clamber over your plush bedding and sit next to her, re-adjusting the blanket she had thrown over your legs after you opened the window.

Maki holds the blunt up and explains, “I’ll blow the smoke into your mouth and you inhale it, okay?”

You furrow your brows together. “Does that really work?”

“It does, I’ve seen it at parties.”

You shrug. “Okay, I’ll try it.”

Maki smirks and brings the blunt to her mouth, taking a deep breath in that has the end of the joint smoldering. She places her hand on your shoulder and leads you closer to her until her lips mere centimeters from yours.

Your eyes flutter shut and you open your mouth, receptive when she blows the smoke inside it. You bring the drug deep down into your lungs. It burns, but it’s pleasant at the same time.

Your head is cloudy and your body heavy when you breathe the smoke out. Everything just feels so…good.

You’re so glad you can hang out with Maki like this. Just you two. Alone. Her hand on your shoulder—she hasn’t moved it yet—feels so nice. You like her so much. Maybe more than your boyfriend.

Your lips touch. You pull back slightly. This is wrong. But, then she leans forward and her lips are on you again. It’s making your skin buzz. Wrong or not, you melt into her.

Her hand on your shoulder tightens and she brings you in closer, deepening the kiss. Your lips and tongues explore each other, minds entirely free of thoughts, only able understand the sensation of your bodies meeting each other.

She breaks the messy kiss for a moment to whispers some words into your mouth, just like she had with the smoke. “Glad you realized I’m better than him.”

You cup her face with your hands, “Yeah, you are.”

#maki zenin x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #maki zenin x you #maki x you #zenin maki #maki x reader #maki zenin #maki zenin smut #jjk wlw

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writing-havoc · 1 year

Text

Let it be that

♡ Summary: It's late in the night when his demons wreak the most havoc. You're there to keep Nikolai company.

♡ Pairing: Nikolai x reader

♡ Fandom: Shadow and Bone, Grishaverse

♡ Warning(s): None,,,, I think. There's a bit about a snake swirling in a gut if that's a particularly bad ick

♡ WC: 2.4k

Yooo a Nikolai fic for the Nikolai lovers.

This is written in sort of a weird in-between stage? He has control over the nichevo'ya in him, so the sleeping tonics aren't really necessary anymore, but he's still king. So do with that what you will.

It's basically 2k+ words of him yearning.

Please excuse any spelling or grammar mistakes.

Hope you enjoy <3

∘₊✧──────────────────✧₊∘

Eye bags threaten to weigh down his entire face from beneath the wanning tailored mask. He was told by Zoya he looked as if he lost a fight with an ambidextrous boxer. And if the tired, yet handsome, man in the mirror truly was him, then she was right.

He really needed some sleep.

But it refused to come to him. Tonics and blood coming to mind at a mere glance of his bed. It makes his stomach turn and gives him the uncomfortable urge to constantly look over his shoulder, despite the threat being inside. And when he realizes that, he can't stop staring at his hands and chest, and it almost looks and feels like the black that covers his fingers is trailing up his palm, and then he blinks and it starts all over.

No matter how in control he feels, some days there's just a lingering anxiety about it.

Sleep isn't coming. Not for a long time. Not until he physically exhausts himself and passes out, and then still he may resist.

But it's not like he has anything to do. His quarters are barren of anything he may find interesting at this hour, and he would rather not get piss drunk just to pass the time with an early meeting tomorrow- today?

He takes a look out his window, marking the positions of the shadow from the moon, and confirms that it is, in fact, today.

It only makes his eyes hurt, a low growling coming from in his mind and possibly escaping his throat.

A knocking on his doorway startles him out of it.

"Enter." He says a lot more curtly than he intends. He bites his tongue.

"I don't think I want to anymore given that tone." Immediately he bites it harder, if only to stop a long winding nervous ramble about the new flower placed outside his window, which also happens to be your favorite.

You stand in the space of his open doorway, hand on the handle and your body half ready to tuck tail and flee. "May I?"

"Of course." He says, a bit too fast, and takes out his chair from his desk and drags it over to beside the bed.

The door shuts with a grand thunk, and your footsteps pad over quieter than ever. He places a pillow on top of the hard wood, just how you like it, and gestures for you to sit.

"I know you aren't a fan." You say, sitting atop the pillow. "So I wanted to hang out for a bit."

He smiles softly, and vaguely notes the roses drifting in at the corners of his eyes. "You mustn't stay up just for me. Beauty sleep is vital, especially for someone as attractive as thee."

You snort, giving him a look that at surface level reads annoyance, but he knows better, seeing the fond disbelief for what it is. "'Someone as attractive as thee?' Really? Didn't know this was a poetry class."

"I have to keep you on your toes. Can't allow you to know everything now can I? How would I ever surprise you?"

"You surprise me every day, Nikolai." His heart thrumps against his chest. "I don't think a change in vocabulary is required."

He snorts. "You have me there."

"That I do."

He takes in your appearance, and nearly gets on his knees when he realizes the soft white cloth that covers your torso has small embroideries on it, all of which hold a certain interest to your craft and possibly his own.

Gears, nuts, bolts, and wires stipple along your shoulders, falling down to your torso, where they plunge into flowing water at the hem. A design similar to a grisha kefta dances along your other sleeve, the same color at the bolts with dashes of purple if you look close enough.

He realizes you are the one that embroidered the details into the shirt, your signature shading technique used throughout the piece.

"How long did these take you?" He barely brushes his finger over the hem of the shirt, then presses down to feel the individual stitches.

You pick up the hem, feeling your own work as well. "A lot longer than I would like." Your voice is low and rumbly as you try to remain relatively quiet. "I kept messing up and changing the color part way through. I actually had to change shirts because I restarted so many times on the first one that the threads didn't want to hold together."

He believes it.

The care you take to make sure every line serves a purpose is inspiring. It makes him want to tinker with the parts around his room, take apart a clock like the young boy he once was did, now that all the clocks are his.

Perhaps he could sneak to Lazlayon. David will probably still be there. The three of you could work until his meeting.

But you'd be cranky the rest of the day. You'd have no problem staying up late to accompany him until it becomes a problem, and then you do yourself the disservice of playing it off like it's fine when everyone else is giving you a very wide berth in the halls and courtyard.

He would like you to have a social life.

"You alright?" He hears you ask.

You're half smiling when he looks up, trying really hard keep his eyes locked on yours and not elsewhere. "I'm not that readable. I know I'm not."

"You had nothing on your face." You admit, leaning in. "And that was the problem."

And doesn't that make him feel bare, vulnerable. To be known so well that even a lack of an expression is an expression in and of itself.

He feels his lips pull apart, the slight stickiness of his mouth slowly separating as he tries to think of something witty, something fast, and it feels like his mind is blank except for the blaringly obvious reason.

"I can't sleep." He whispers, eyes fluttering. "I can't sleep, and everything that could help is exactly the reason why I can't." He let's the hem fall from his fingers, dragging what feels like 40 pounds of dead weight back over to his own lap. "And you're sitting here, staying with me, and there's nothing I can do about the ocean of guilt my stomach and heart and any other organ that has the capacity for feelings are swimming in."

Guilt is the reigning emotion, making it feel like a snake is swimming through his gut, playing with his liver and choking his heart and lungs. If he thinks about it he can feel the tongue flickering and tickling stomach.

He's grateful you're here, but he wants so badly to either force you to leave or drag you into his bed so that you might get some modicum of sleep.

But you'd fight him every step of the way, pushing your heels into the floor (which would scratch them up and you'd complain about it tomorrow) and getting yanked out by his guards when they assume the worst.

And if he chose the second one... it twists his insides in a more pleasant way, but makes his head swim, and really really scares him. Because if you take it the way he really wishes it was, the way he dreams about, then he loses you, and may be seen as just like his father. And that's the worst thing he could ask for.

So he's stuck. He's stuck with the guilt until you decide to leave.

"I feel like we have the same conversation everytime I'm here." You chuckle, and he chuckles too.

"It's probably because we do. Or at least some version of it with varying words of vulnerability."

You lean forward more, arms crossed over your chest. "And it always ends up the same."

It does. It always ends with you sitting there for a few hours until you tire and then he has a guard guide you back to your room.

"But it doesn't need to." He scoots along the side of the bed, sinking into the sewn cloth filled with wool and feathers. "You're tired when you walk out of here and need an extra four cups of coffee when you wake up, and you hate coffee."

"But I like you." You turn in his chair facing directly towards him and he can't breathe anymore.

He doesn't know what way you mean that, if it means in any capacity the way he yearns for it to be. So he waits, with baited breath, for you to elaborate.

"I like you." You emphasize once more. "I like staying up into the latest hours of the night, either talking about everything and nothing or sitting in silence. I look forward to them, actually. Just existing in your presense is enough to make the obscene amounts of caffeine worth it."

It's on the edge. It could be a confession or it could just be you being nice. And he would rather throw himself into the unsea than be one of those guys he hears you complain about.

"I want to be here." You stand and move your chair, pushing it away from the bed. He barely has time to sit up straight before you're right in front of him, legs falling open to allow you closer as your hands come up and rest on his cheeks.

"I want you, Nikolai, wholly and completely, just as you are now. With every flaw and blemish etched into your being, a demon awaiting in your chest." Your thumbs gently glide over his bottom lip, coming to rest at the corner of his open mouth. "But there's a small part of me that fears you do not want me in the way that I want you."

He doesn't know how to respond. He couldn't possibly begin to string together any number of words that could convey even a semblance of the sincerity you ambushed him with.

He's a king for saints sake. Words are supposed to come to him in times of need.

But his mind is an endless fog, and the only thing he can think of is you.

You standing above him, pads of your fingers touching him so gently, palms radiating a warmth that makes him want to lean in and soak in it (he does), and a perfect mouth and mind that pair so well.

He needs to convince you. He needs to somehow tell you that you mean everything to him and more.

"Did you know my favorite drink is brandy?" He asks, looking you right in the eye.

Your eyebrows crinkle, but you smile. "I did."

He tugs you towards him, hands sliding up your back as you take tiny, unsure steps closer and closer. His fingers trail under your shirt, right against your warm skin and in the divet of your spine, and squeeze you until you're completely between his legs, chest leaning back just to get a look at him.

"If there was ever a time where you wanted the last drop of it, saints, the whole bottle, I would give it over in a heartbeat." Goosebumps dance along his skin when your fingers meet the base of his neck, toying with the hair. "If you hated the way a painting looked, i'd throw it out of the castle, and have it burned on the steps if it should please you. If you wanted a pastry from a shop two hundred miles away, i'd fly there immediately, ride there as fast as I could, or sprint the entire distance, if it meant you could eat it."

Your eyes scittered around his face, watching his brows, his eyes, his mouth, and even his ears, for anything. Anything he would give you to tell you he was lying.

But there was nothing to give.

He really would give you the last drop of brandy. He really would fly, ride, sprint two hundred miles for a pastry. "I would kiss you right now if you should request it, or leave from my own chambers should you request that instead."

"Nikolai." You whisper his name, his eyes fluttering the same time as his heart.

"I want you." He tells you forthright. "I want you in the way you want me. If you should ever need to be confident in something, let it be that."

Please, please let it be that.

You look at him, and all he can see is someone he wants. There isn't a thing about you that makes him turn away. Not your eating habits, not your hygiene, not your smell or your walk or your stance.

And as you lean down, placing those perfect lips right over his, definitely not your taste.

It's coffee and whatever berries were leftover from supper, the stickiness of sugar coating your lips from when you licked them clean.

You lean back, and he feels your lips press themselves over his cheek. His stomach turns and turns and turns and it won't stop. It makes his breath shakey and his closed eyes roll even further and further back in into his skull until he's sure they won't ever come back.

But more importantly it makes him feel warm, and warmer yet as you place a kiss over his eyes, the corners of his lips where your fingers rested, between his brows, the awkward bridge and tip of his nose, his chin. Your hands are gentle as they rest in the space between his neck and shoulder, and even still as your fingers find his nape and your lips kiss his again. Each part of him feels raw and exposed.

It's terrifying, and every bit as pleasing.

When you lean back a second time, he opens his eyes, and sees you smiling.

He hums. "If this is where not sleeping gets me, I'm going to have to do it more often."

"You already do it almost every night." You chuckle. "Besides, you don't need to go through all of that just to get a few kisses. I'd be happy to hand them over whenever you like."

"Whenever?" He presses.

"Whenever."

"Now?"

"If you like."

"I would like very much."

He's not all that surprised when you indulge him.

#nikolai lantsov x you #nikolai lantsov x y/n #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov fanfic #shadow and bone x y/n #shadow and bone x you #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone fanfic #fanfic

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kalims · 1 year

Note

Fairytale anon part 3 haha

Don’t worry about it <3 it’s completely fine , it’s understandable and all on why you wouldn’t be able to do it, but I really appreciate your patience

I’d like to request dorm leaders again, with a trope like “falls first, falls harder”. I just think it would be cute too read,

ofc if you can’t do my request at all it’s all good!

also thank you for giving me a second time to request. It’s really appreciated so much since I love your writing and your literally so kind,😭💞 sorry for putting you through so much trouble

‎˃ ᵕ ˂ . . "let's play a game. say, if we fell in love who do you think would fall first or harder? ha! it's definitely you."

falling first, and falling harder,

today, we are unaware. tonight, you've realized. tomorrow, we're already smitten.

characters. dorm leaders.

includes. gn!reader.

wc. 5.1k for some reason.

cw. crack, actually mc on crack too, fire accidents, angst to comfort (giving), death (not major)

note. ong hi fairytale anon! honestly you're the patient one here t-t so thank you!! <3 I admit this is one of the favorite mc's I've written haha... why the heck is this so long

—ㅤriddle rosehearts ・falls first

"two plus two is equals to six because there is an additional two." you state without any ounce of doubt at all, blankly—yet so confidently.

riddle is stupefied at the relevation that he knows such a stupid person. so he recoils with a weird look on his face. "that's not how it works. there is no deeper meaning." he sighs.

if he had a penny for everytime you'd made his head hurt riddle would be rich.

he hates your sass.

"but what if it does though."

"(name)."

contrary to belief riddle is a pretty perfect guy but among the category of boyfriend material he's in the middle. like, hardstuck. if it was a competition his mother would be rolling in her bed because he won't stand a chance to win.

it's not because of his face or anything. in fact, he's gorgeous. it's about the sensitive attitude he has. seemingly blunt, harsh, and direct words but you know riddle best besides from his friends.

so it's only natural his real self would be slipping off, with you he has the chance to enjoy his life as a normal school boy. without the clutches of his mother who's fully intent on carving his path herself.

his mother would probably drag him by the ear if she hears that he's falling for one of the most stupid people she'd ever meet instead of one of the 'candidates' she reccomends.

it was during a messy time, when he realized.

messes were something riddle didn't exactly like.

and there's a whole lot right in the kitchen of his dorm.

the silence is prominent when he gets hit by a patch of dough that was probably still in the process of getting kneaded and he's sure whoever made the mess was sweating in their boots when he exhaled shortly.

"I have such good aim." you compliment yourself, laughing quietly and the traces of dough in your hands is full evidence that you are the culprit.

for some reason riddle can't bring himself to be angry by your smile.

he puts a palm over his head. "you. (name) it's five in the morning." without much regard to his words you shrug and casually pick up a new set of flour. "so?"

"so? why are you.." he eyes the items on the counter top. "..baking at five am? it's five am."

"who doesn't? hey don't you not know how to bake? I'll finally beat you in something." you joke.

for once riddle is forcefully dragging himself in the middle of something he hates.

he huffs. flicking his hand so that there's an apron magically on his waist. you make an amazed sound at your own apron tying itself around you.

"don't you know one of the basics for safety is an apron? just you wait, I'll be one of the best at this soon enough." riddle huffs. sure there's a routine he strictly follows everyday but it's a rest day, why not spend it timely? with someone he likes.

you're one mess be wouldn't mind getting caught in.

and you, this time you're the one that would fall harder.

you admit it's hard to like riddle first so early with his old, snappy self but given how much he's improved its starting to feel like you're some quarreling married couple at times.

so it just hits you hard.

I'm in love with him.

ㅤ

—ㅤleona kingscholar ・falls harder

(@ravynous girl, ravy... this for you 🥰)

"leona your little snookie pookie is too broke and is need for some madol to buy food for their pet cat." at some point grim admitted he didn't like to get referred as a cat so you just started doing it just to annoy him.

well he was built like a cat, save for the fact that he can stand on two feet. the rest of the people who were used to the norm of twisted wonderland did think otherwise.

their normal was a monster.

besides the concerning nickname you came up for yourself leona peeks an eye open from his sleep and stares at you blankly. "you don't have a cat."

you grin at him. "you wanna be my kitty then?"

"call me that again and I'll make sure you won't step a foot inside of savanaclaw ever again."

"oh! the horror!" for extra drama points you fall down and clutch your chest, rook would be so proud. "wherever will my grim poop in if not the haven of savanaclaw."

leona makes a disturbed look.

from the start before all the 'disgusting' love started it was friendship and leona can fully vouch the fact that the friendship was not consentual on his end.

you were like a stupid little roach on his fur, unable to shake you off since you're so intent on sticking up to him. and at some point leona didn't even bother to shoo you away when you totally not forcefully forced yourself into his schedule.

his schedule in question is just naps and you actually questioned it.

even ruggie is suprised he hasn't thrown you out of savanaclaw yet when leona has fully the power to do so without being questioned at all so how the hell were you still unscathed after practically insulting leona's whole existence? (which is honestly just being.. honest)

the answer to that is because he's secretly enjoying your presence that's what!

"do you not tend your hair? it looks like an overgrown bush that rolls around in deserts." you squint and poke the mess of strings that leona calls hair.

the man in question pretends not to feel your poke and merely grunts. "quit it. I'm trying to sleep here." he buries his face into the pillow deeper.

"when are you not?" you turn to face the ceiling. not pondering much of the fact that leona let you lay on his bed, with him. despite knowing full well you're probably just gonna disturb his sleep.

there's no answer.

you turn your head, only being able to see the back of leona's head. and the occasional movement alongside his breathing, it convinced you that he was sleeping soundly.

leave it to leona to sleep under five seconds..

"I'm really glad you're with me."

perhaps too drunk in your drowsiness to care about the words you're spouting there isn't much regard you put into thought when your mouth ran off.

and for once leona has never lost the will to sleep so fast.

or perhaps he's actually just distracted by the second flip his heart did.

what a pain. he turns over. hopefully you're true to your words, if you really are then he'd wake up beside you.

unlike riddle you're probably gonna be the one to fall first.

most people would think that leona's whole personality is a blank, boring canvas. just one color but it just seemed so interesting to you that you couldn't help but reach out.

maybe he'd never glance at you, or maybe he wouldn't even care but he's here, like straight out of your dreams you don't know since when you started catching the disease (feels) but imagine your suprise when you wake up and he's practically using you as a humanoid pillow.

oh. you should tease him about this once you wake up again because the sleep is really tempting you from how comfortable you are.

ㅤ

—ㅤazul ashengrotto ・falls first

if current azul told his past self 'you're gonna be in love' he probably would've started laughing quietly because the idea just seems impossible for him.

but he thinks it's you. "I don't think this looks good." azul sighs for the nth' time, clumsily pulling off the tie and coat you had dragged him to try.

you pout. "why not?" a little iffed by the fact that he doesn't like it or that you pretty much spent your whole allowance. azul however, remains blissfully ignorant.

he squints at you. "it's supposed to be a formal event. my clients would not take me seriously in such—" azul grimaced as he gestures at his reflection in the mirror. "—colorful, and clearly unprofessional attire."

you make a sad face.

"you just have no taste. and I want my thousand madol back."

by the look on his face it's a mixture of horrified and feeling bad. "it's not that I don't like it.."

"whatever. stay in your boring old tie, boomer. might as well do a cosplay of a mafia lord."

"what—"

in the spectrum of 'I hate you' but 'you're dear to me' azul would be on the verge of falling off in the middle. given how many situations he's lost plenty of braincells because of your shenanigans he isn't enjoying the tweels clear amusement of this.

but.

you're one of the people azul keeps very close in his inner circle. as much as he despises the twins antics he can admit he'll do the same for them as they did for him in his... overblot moment.

and as for you, he'll do it a thousand times.

between practically losing his mind when he'd get distracted during work because his brain just wants to make him suffer by thinking of you and all his decisions including your personal gain... azul can tell he's pretty fucked.

in the end azul didn't have the heart to not wear your gift.

"you look breathtaking." azul flushes. I picked the right color (aka his favorite). he thinks to himself. secretly glad that you decided to agree to his proposition.

you beam. "why thank you handsome man. it's only natural I wear the clothing you picked out for me graciously."

there's not a lot of times where azul has felt beautiful. in fact, he could count the times he did with one hand. but this time, it feels wholly different.

he feels pretty when you smile at him.

your eyes flicker to his collarbone area, glinting pleasantly at your own very pick sitting atop it. "I see you've chosen to listen to my good advice after all."

it is kind of embarrassing since he's standing out of a crowd with such a bright tie but if azul does say so himself, it's worth it if it meant seeing you look so proud.

azul covers a cough behind his hand. "it would be rude to leave it unworn."

maybe it would be strange but I find it fitting if the two of you fell at just the same time, just as hard cause who wouldn't? the scene itself is straight out of a dream.

and, it's hard to not notice azul's stare when you awkwardly realize that the other is wearing the gift both had given. a better word for it could be enchanted.

after you wouldn't know but just maybe, azul will keep the tie you'd given him tucked in the corner of his safe. away from the eyes of the twins who are probably dying to tease him about it.

ㅤ

—ㅤkalim al asim ・falls harder

"how in the hell do you set water on fire?!" you scream. frantically patting away the portion of your shirt that had literally got burnt off by the fire, before. you'd hyped yourself up to react well in a situation like this but it's like you're completely stupid now.

perhaps you should've declined when kalim invited you to make curry for jamil.

but he was so cute I couldn't deny. you think in regret.

one thing led to another and you underestimated how horrible kalim was at cooking, you just left to collect a few ingredients you forgot and somehow the boy in question was just in the process of setting his whole dorm on fire.

kalim; since he was the one who had set the fire aflame from the first place, is much in a worse state than you. "ah! my butt is on fire again!"

oh he was panicking like you.

"quick! stop, drop, and roll!"

kalim freezes, drops to the ground but rolls the wrong way.

"THATS THE WRONG WAY—DONT ROLL TO THE CURTAIN ITS GONNA CATCH ON—"

"fire?"

simultaneously,, both you and kalim freeze at an eerily calm voice.

jamil crosses his arms. "what are you doing? and what is going on here?" he sighs, massaging his temple like it's gonna lessen the two headaches he just got.

you answer blankly. "fire."

like a mother duckling scolding their two babies crossing the road without permission jamil ate you both out, listing possibilities that made the situation far more dangerous than it was (which is actually true). the whole time, kalim has this embarrassed, ashamed look on his face as he looks down.

surprisingly enough you had liked kalim immediately after your first meeting, whether it's platonic at first or romantic is entirely up to you. who could you even blame? his demeanor is like a sweet escape from all the evil-ness.

it's like.. being with kalim gives you a chance to feel human again because out of all the problems you've dealt with it's refreshing to have someone genuinely care and give for you when everyone's been taking it all from you.

for kalim, it's just natural for him to take care of everyone he knows. but somehow, he doesn't know why it's different this time. like he'd pick out a diamond out of a deep cave instead to go out his way for you to see how special it is.. (bad comparison?)

you mentally pray for kalim's cooking to succeed.

since mid terms were coming up, you were behind quite a few lessons since you were being taught.. elemental level knowledge, as embarrassing as it is.. well... everyone started there, (or so you try and convince yourself)

you weren't able to help kalim out with his ongoing attempt at making a curry.

so you're confused,,, he isn't carrying a curry right now and he's handing it to the wrong person.

"do you wanna try?"

"...what?"

it's probably idiotic of you to freeze up and stare but midst your confusion it was the only natural response. from what you remember, the food he made was supposed to be for jamil.

not you..

kalim tilts his head. as if asking you why you're so lost. "you don't like it? I thought it was your favorite."

yes.. right, that is your favorite. kalim is holding your favorite dish.

you sweat nervously and ask yourself if he's mistaken something, actually. you do. "no... it is but... I thought you were making curry for jamil?" the inner glutton of you grabs at you childishly. but for your sake, you shove it in a closet or something.

the troubled look on his face clears up. "oh! well.." kalim scratches his head with a nervous laugh, all looking lighthearted. "jamil didn't eat it cause he said it was ominous and somehow bubbling... so I asked him to help make your favorite dish instead."

you bite your lip to keep in the shit eating grin threatening to embarass your whole existence.

you had never felt the urge to bang your head into a wall, crawl into it, close the whole and start squealing on the other side (oddly descriptive) because what the actual hell? that was adorable!!

honestly after all that you can't blame yourself for falling first.

and maybe you'd notice that instead of expensive gifts you just started receiving priceless ones, memories, acts of service. love. who wouldn't love a guy who can buy a whole division but go out his way to learn cooking for you? (technically jamil made your favorite dish but eh... he's learning)

and who wouldn't love, you? nearly everyone in nrc disliked his sunny demeanor cause.. school of villians, pushed him away because of it and you, welcomed it. this time, he won't take something for granted.

ㅤ

—ㅤvil schoenheit ・falls harder but knew you fell first.

"that—" you screech shrilly, feeling even more pain at the watery prick at your eyes. "—HURTS."

vil sighs but narrows his eyes to focus on your eyebrows which he said to be 'uneven', going as far as fixing it himself. or so he says, 'he's doing you a favor' which he technically is but you had no idea it was this painful!

every strand that was getting picked away felt like a decrease of ten years to your lifespan.

unconsciously and certainly without your consent. your fingers grasp at vil's wrist and he lets you, only actually blinking at the warmth enveloping it but doing nothing else.

he shrugs away the warmth in his chest too.

"the beauty isn't worth the pain." you cry comically, gritting your teeth because.. people do this willingly? actually. does this mean vil does this on a daily basis? does he have high pain tolerance or something?

at your words vil smiles faintly, eyes flashing in nostalgia. "I thought of that before as well, you'll get used to it." he says lightly. pulling away and brushing a thumb over your eyebrow.

there's more?! "no way I'm gonna do this again.."

"beauty doesn't come without a price."

"good thing I'm broke."

vil despises your casual neglect to your appearance. if he isn't around, it's rook that got told to watch over you. in a way you're like a second epel but on a more intense degree since epel already knows how to take care of himself. this time, vil is taking care of you.

which he doesn't know why he's even doing in the first place. he guesses he wants everyone to see their best in themselves, or he's just making excuses to touch or; 'inspect' your face. but he isn't stupid. your crush on him was apparent, the wobbly smile when he gets too close is something he sees a lot.

you never acted on your feelings. stuck around, but never too much. did your constant presence direct such a huge influence in his life that he's starting to notice how he forgets he's not talking to anyone when he reminds you the air about hygiene importance.

vil is beauty.

in terms of words to describe him it's out of this world.

to see him without the usual front he bores; bare, naked. the persona he was afraid everyone would hate is all but standing in front of you. vulnerable, sensitive and lost. much unlike his confident self.

he knows.

the villian of the story will never lose and in the eyes of the world neige is the hero.

vil stills at the creak of his door, ultimately unable to move or wipe away the frustration down his cheeks. as far as he knew, no one dared to enter his room without his consent other than—

"vil?" you call out in a sing-song voice, he always scolded you to not do so lest you reveal much in public. fearing for your safety in denial. you pause at his obviously sad face, and sag your shoulders.

the joking in your face disappears immediately. "you okay?" you thin your lips and hesitantly step forwards until you silently urge vil to move to the side then sit next to him when he does.

you nudge his shoulder then dry his cheeks. later you’ll help him with his routine, you glance at the table. it seems like he was too disheartened to start, for now you'll comfort him.

maybe that's what vil likes about you.

you don’t give him pity, you're still yourself in situations like this.

and, you don't offer any words. knowing full well the most he needs is just your presence beside you.

truth to be told someone as ordinary as you could never afford to get the greatest beauty.

you didn't look at him like a doll in display, nothing greater than genuine appreciation for his beauty.

perhaps what vil needs is to get a taste of sought for someone instead of being sought for.

being appreciative is something vil rarely stumbles upon but there is a slight change to his attitude after the night. he was always the one helping everyone else with the routines and stuff so he stayed silent the whole time you did the routine for him instead.

like a child cluelessly receiving affection for the first time.

that was the first time he ever let someone other than a makeup artist touch his face, and the first time he dreamt of a happy ending.

ㅤ

—ㅤidia shroud ・falls first

idia hates co-op mode.

this applies to every game that has multi-player mode. most say it makes everything more easier but to him it's just,,, annoying.

this game in particular features direct join and people would start joining his world and taking rewards without permission at all. and he hates thieves! idia wishes that PVP was an option because no one could ever win against him.

the familiar ping of another player joining his realm makes him groan from behind the screen. whoever that was, their character loaded after a long time and when they started moving its like they were on mcdonalds wifi.

idia snickers. L bozo. maybe it was wrong for him to start slandering someone he never met but eh...

he expects an immediate exploration without his permission but the person very, very slowly makes their way towards him. freezing in the air midst their jumping around because of their wifi occasionally till they stop to his face and start jumping crazily.

the secret language... a jump means happiness and you need to jump back.

what is the intentions of this normie.. idia narrows his eyes.

yuurname: hi! can I take something?

no. idia thinks blankly but then again it's rare to have someone come in and ask.

hercules666: k. what do u need?? don't take the mushrooms.

yuurname: I was gonna get the mushrooms but I dont wanna leave empty handed so can I have u instead

the team has been changed.

idia doesn't know whether to combust or cringe.

through online, technically that is where idia first met you. that was wayyy before the two of you found out that you were attending the same school and you were literally online friends (self-proclaimed or whatever idia said) with the shut in dorm leader of ignihyde. joking around and throwing around playful flirting!

idia never intended to friend you in the first place. in fact, he rejected the first friend request then the next ones. your record was sending him about ten requests one day but the daily average was only once a day. other than ortho, idia doesn't have another friend since his old friend pranked him all the time and couldn't even get the ingredients right... in. a. game.

(guess who haha)

since then you always joined him whenever you're on. neglecting your tasks to help him decorate his house, and somehow adding your own touch to some corners of the place. idia doesn't know why he gave you owner permissions to edit his house but he tries to deny that he doesn't like the cute silly little things.

plus you actually have a pet cat like him in the game!

hercules666: how come u started friending a random (idia) obsessively?? yandere behavior tbh

it was true. it was really random of you to start being intent on being his friend after like what? three minutes of being in his realm?

yuurname: Lol I thought ur realm was rlly pretty and u looked rich

you just downright admitted that you were out for his cash but idia can't bring himself to be angry. he fights away the growing flush on his face, no one had ever complimented his builds before!

there's a giddy feeling in idia's chest.

your character teleports to idia's house, and the man in question actually added a bed next to him after you totally did not blackmail him. trudging past your lovely cat, and idia's cat who somehow kept following the other.

despite standing still he can still see you run to him jumping until your avatar is standing in front of him.

you jump frantically in excitement, joy.

cute. idia thinks.

what? he slaps himself and wills his hair to stay blue.

this time he responds with a jump back. unlike the first time you met.

yuurname: also ur avatar looked like sum1 I thought looked cool irl

you may not know hercules666 is idia shroud but he knows you are... you. so hearing that,,, no matter how many times he tries to convince himself that many people have blue hair he can't deny the resemblance to his avatar and himself.

it's him. you think he's cool.

idia excuses himself to scream in his pillow.

idia, is too anxious to even think of meeting up with you in real life. (plus.. he just developed massive feelings overnight and he'll start malfunctioning if he's a radius within you) but what he does like is looking through the school camera during your classes to see your various moods, from anger, annoyance and sadness.

when it's sadness he wants to comfort you but doesn't exactly know how.

during the time he grew balls to tell you through in game chat. you replied casually; yuurname: oh ik that haha I knew u the whole time it was obvious lolol that's why I stayed :)

did you just tell him that idia is cool knowing full well he's idia?!

ㅤ

—ㅤmalleus draconia ・falls first but just as hard

love is like a fleeting feeling.

people come and go. malleus knows this fact very well, it's only both a curse and blessing that he's exempted from this. no matter how much he wishes, malleus can only witness the ups and downs of his life.

sure. human lives are fleeting but his love will always stay eternal. in a way throughout the years he's learned to let go of lives that are bound to go sooner of later. lilia had taught him it was better to be prepared anyways.

malleus never questioned how many loses it took for lilia to get used to it.

for some reason it's like he forgot how to let go this moment. like his child-like self just came back to cling on a life he can't steer away from death.

"tsunotaro what is your home like?" malleus knows that you're far from home, maybe you just want to reminisce about your loss. but he masks the concern on his face with ease.

malleus smiles in nostalgia. when was he last asked such a question? no person was ever too brave to strike a conversation. "it's beautiful. there is quite a variety of fae. perhaps you'd like to meet them one day?"

you look excited. "wow. very descriptive." you joke. clearly teasing him about the one word he described his home. though malleus doesn't look particularly bothered, instead. he smiles even more.

"why thank you. you always flatter me, child of man."

you deadpan. "totally."

technically in the canon game it's very clear malleus has taken a liking to mc and aside from malleus being blissfully ignorant towards jokes, he's quite lovable. you don't know how everyone else managed the heart to practically ignore his existence but.. he is quite scary so you don't partially blame them. (well this is a school for villians so)

what malleus likes about you is, well. of course the fact that you aren't scared of him. you're quite fascinating to him given how far he's managed to stick to you multiple times and there's no doubt he'll come swooping in to save you from wherever and be the one to care for you when no one bothers to.

to everyone it's like you're already clearly in love with each other because let's face it. who the hell wouldn't if they saw how you're both acting like a literal couple? malleus scares away someone when he's jealous but somehow you thought it was just dragon nature. (which it actually is but come on! he looks like he's willing to lock you up in a tower..)

crowley had granted you permission to leave on a special occasion for some reason.

so of course it came as a suprise. since... it's crowley.

to this day you wonder what the hell possessed him but eh... a break is a break and you're certainly not missing this chance. still, it's curious on why he even gave you one in the first place.. you were certain crowley was gonna work you to the bone.

though you're a little nervous when you took up malleus' offer to travel to briar valley, his home. full of fae who's ancestors probably died because of a human.

yes this is perfectly fine.

other than the wary glances. malleus and the rest of diasomnia that came were very kind to you, patient in explaining their culture (except for sebek but you deemed his derogatory speaking his love languange).

it was very fun. from meeting the little fairies, traversing through various shops, resting at the natural scenery. it was a really nice new experience for you. the food sure was a little strange but it tasted all the way better.

time passed by so fast when you were enjoying yourself and apparently malleus wanted you to meet someone.

but he should've told you that you were gonna meet the queen! if you knew you would've made the effort to look more organized!

"um.. hi."

so you feel kind of shy in front of such a prominent figure. you wave quietly at the beautiful lady who still maintains a certain grace at her golden age. she smiles lightly at your behavior, seemingly amused.

wait aren't you supposed to bow? you think awkwardly, bending forward to showcase your respect.

malleus is beside you, staying silent but quite happy at your interaction with his grandmother.

her voice sends shivers down your spine. it's quiet, yet so booming. she couldn't probably silence a whole room with a single word. "hello, it's not a common sight to see my grandson bringing someone in." she looks happy, bringing her eyes to malleus then to you again.

her eyes crinkle. "more or so a human.. how interesting hehe.." you sweatdrop. were all fae so..? mischievous. she seems not that alike with malleus save for their matching green, emerald eyes.

"what's your name. child of man?"

is this where he got it from?

"(name) your highness."

she looks pleasantly suprised. "oh. I knew you were the one my grandson always talked about.. you should see the letters he's written about you." what. you can't hide the awkward laugh you emit. then realizing you're in the presence of royalty and probably shouldn't be laughing.

you shut up a second later.

malleus doesn't look fazed at all. has he never experienced having his grandparents revealing embarrassing secrets because if you were him you'd crawl into a hole immediately.

calmly, she says; "you must really be dear to him."

"they are."

malleus doesn't even hesitate.

this time. he feels like clinging onto a life again, he'll be with you for as long as he can.

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defectivefanboy · 10 months

Text

Howl J. Pendragon x Gn!Reader

this is pure self indulgence. No I am not apologizing. No I am not sorry and yes I am a glutton for punishment.

Overall Notes: Stories written on this blog are GN until specified. While this story uses they/them pronouns, and I don't mind female readers on my blog, I do not write for y'all, and if you are a fetishizer fuck off????????????????? ew.

C/W: Angst no comfort. Howl being a low-key asshole, and a man whore. Self deprecation.

Notes: I have been rewatching this movie like a psychopath

Steps to loving a fool...

People will tell you all the ways they fell for a fool and how they loved a fool.

How they whisked them away off their feet with such carefree nature.

But they also recall how it hurt to let them go at the end.

They always say a bird does not belong in a cage

Because there are many steps to loving a fool, but there are only a few key steps you need to keep in mind.

While the enjoyment and wonder of it is exciting at first a person can only take so much before they finally collapse in on themselves like a star.

Step 1: A fool is as free as the wind.

For as long as you could remember he's always moved as if he was the wind himself.

Maybe it was because he could fly and walk? on air

Being with him was like you were floating

God, to be above the clouds with him once again

To feel as free as he does every day of his life

But you've never seen him settle down, even within his own home.

Always adding a new room, or waking up in a new place with new doors.

That amazement you feel when you hear the click of the door and then the new location or sight before you

Oh is that a new book? What does that trinket do?

The fascinated look on his face always captured your attention more then the trinket did most days

His magic never failed to excite you, only brought you more wonder in what he was capable off

Every time he came through the door he always brought something new

Always something new, something that brought change within the castle

Something was always changing.

Step 2: A fool changes like the seasons

Never get too comfortable and never get used to anything.

As cozy as the house was, he was changing it to how he liked at that moment.

It would become a maze of new rooms and halls.

All the more room for him to make a mess.

Sometimes even a new explosion, opening a new window in the castle.

Yet, you can never develop a habit. Can never maintain a routine

Never able to get a schedule down

Never able to understand what he was doing

Never able to even assume what he's doing

Never able to assume you know what he's thinking.

It's only a matter of time before he changes his interest.

Last month it was simple Science

Today? making a plant into a horse

Tomorrow? Only he knows.

Markl, while a good kid, was on the back burner of the wizards mind sometimes

maybe even a lot of the times, but he always made it up to him with long lessons and studies with the boy.

Guess you weren't even on his mind now a days

You can't blame him though

it's not like you had an altitude for magic or anything.

You didn't have any knowledge from a great beyond

You honestly should've known

The first few months were bliss was him

then it became every few days, every few weeks... every few months... every few y-

Step 3: A fool is never shackled down

When was the last time you made a proper friend?

Calcifer and Markl were both a lovely chat.

But, you could only talk about so much within an ever moving home.

Sure, you've made a few acquaintanceships, but never more than that.

You didn't have enough time to make friends anyways

Didn't stay long ever to keep them either

You would leave town as fast as you came in.

Appearing one night then disappearing the next.

And the excitement of it disappeared just as quick.

Realization only hit quicker.

Watching fling after fling after fling after fling after-

What was it that made them different?

Maybe thats why he's always running away

Being around too long would make too much of an attachment

That means commitment

It means it's no longer just him

A fool carries their own burdens, they don't need the burdens of other as well

He already has his own worries

what made you think he would care for yours?

At first he was attentive, the soft grazing touches he gave felt as if he was treating you as fragile glass

Any force and you would shatter

When did you shatter?

Do you remember when you did?

Did he even realize that you did?

Step 4: A fool won't listen to anyone, but themselves

The house was a mess

Covered in waste from failed potions and experiments.

Molded food and trash everywhere, no matter how much it got cleaned

You had told him that witch wasn't good news

You said she was hiding something from him. From everyone.

Everyone could see he was gonna end up hurt

Yet, you were the wrong one

He's was in love couldn't you see

You wanted this to happen, didn't you?

For him to settle down?

You always said to slow down

Why was it an issue now?

If you don't like it why do you care about it?

You shouldn't be here anymore then

"Why do you always incise on being a nuisance?!"

You have over stayed your welcome.

Silence lingered in the room

The ever so witty fire demon was at a lost for words even

All he could do was watch as you turned away from him and walked to your room.

He watched the ground as you walked away and slammed the door.

He was about to let out a sigh before a second slam followed again.

This time a few steps away

"porthaven door..."

He watched the door in surprise, the dial clicking into place.

sighing finally he turned to the stairs

"Calcifer, warm up a bath"

Step 5: A fool only learns after they have lost themselves

He was sure you would be back the next morning

You always came back, even when he was clearly in the wrong

Even when he would spew hateful words at you for the littlest of thing

You always came back

But when morning came, the castle was as still as it was left the night before.

He realized it’s gone too far

The soft cracks in the glass finally broke

that prideful wizard finally began to break

ode to the boy who shallowed a star in exchange for his heart…

who had lost the only thing that filled the space…

#foolish writing #howls moving castle #howl jenkins pendragon #howl pendragon #howl x reader #howl x male reader #howl x gn reader #howl jenkins x reader #howell jenkins

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cnnmonbimee · 4 months

Text

20 questions for fic writers

Tagged by @milkteamoon thanks for the tag milk <33

1. How many works do you have on Ao3? 28! Which isn't that much but I never thought I would write that much to begin with :D!

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? 115,038 I wish to write more this year since I was in a slump last year 😤

3. What fandoms do you write for? Most of my fics are JSHK, but I've written a Hyouka fic for a zine and an (unexpectedly) x reader fic for The Ssum. I have two original works there too though!

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

..Everything? (地縛少年花子くん | Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun | Toilet-bound Hanako-kun (Manga)) (1,695 words) kudos: 113

Two Lips, with hues of cherry and honey. (地縛少年花子くん | Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun | Toilet-bound Hanako-kun (Manga)) (4,936 words) kudos: 102

Reason For Another Tomorrow (地縛少年花子くん | Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun | Toilet-bound Hanako-kun (Manga)) (14,236 words) kudos: 89

Just Like Us (地縛少年花子くん | Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun | Toilet-bound Hanako-kun (Manga)) (3,797 words) kudos: 79

Bright as helios, Beautiful as anthos, a True Helianthus (地縛少年花子くん | Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun | Toilet-bound Hanako-kun (Manga)) (10,055 words) kudos: 67

Honestly speaking, '...Everything' isn't my favourite and isn't my best either, so I have no idea why it's there 😂 The others are probably because they're long enough to be there, but I do like seeing Tulips, Just Like Us, and the Bridge fic being there.

5. Do you respond to comments? I usually do! and I, myself love to leave comments! Most of my inbox are filled with replies to the comments that I wrote instead! I like interacting with both my readers and other writers :>

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? The only thing that came to mind is Tulips. The first chapter ended hopeful and the second was sad xd Though, I wouldn't really say it's angsty! It's more to bittersweet I think. I have another lesser-known fic that has, not really angsty, but the ending was a little messed-up xD

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Most of my fics have happy endings since I usually write fluff.... I think...

8. Do you get hate on fics? Never yet! I was a bit scared when I posted tsunene fics and even moderated the comments xD but no one ever left anything mean there!

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Very very mildddddd in my opinion. And I rarely write smut because I'm shy (pfftt) The only ones I have was for tsunene and they were only making out;; another one is something that I just posted yesterday as a ficlet. If I ever want to seriously write one day though, maybe something sweet like vanilla. I'm a simple person u_u . And I like it when it involves feelings <3

10. Do you write crossovers? I never thought of writing crossovers :0 they aren't really my thing. But I do think they're fun for crack though!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? No, i think?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Nopee I don't think my fics are widely known to have them translated Xd but who knows, maybe one day!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Noooooo someone co-write with me someday :);;;;

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? Hananene, of course!!! You won't really get any other answer from me u-u I do wish to be more diverse in the future though! And I did entertain in the idea of writing threesome like hananenetsuka or hananenekou but never actually did it ;;;

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Everything in my never-ending wip list u_u Some of them are big fics that I'm itching to write but never have the time.

16. What are your writing strengths? I'm good at writing feelings, I think? I haven't done any self-evaluation lately. Oh but I really love metaphors!

17. What are your writing weaknesses? I usually have a hard time to make my writing more descriptive. Sometimes they feel too bland u_u and since English isn't my first language, some of the dialogues don't sound natural and casual like I wanted it to be.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I never thought of this before and don't know if the fics I'll ever write have the settings for this xd

19. First fandom you wrote for? JSHK is what really got me into fanfiction. Before that I always have this impression that fanfics are usually /reader only, which I'm not really fond of (Should have discovered more!!) I started as an avid jshk fics reader, and never thought of writing my own to be honest! Love the fact that I tried <3 it's why I'm here.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written? Wahhh I think my most recent favourite is A beautiful heart like yours (is mine to hold), which is a fic I wrote for Tsunene Week 2023. I think it's my most well-written piece :') it's the only one that I don't get icky feelings when rereading it. Others are 'The Reason for Another Tomorrow', also known as codename: Bridge fic, and the first ever fic I've written for the fandom, If I Were The Moon, Would You Be My Sun?, which isn't my best writing but has a really special place in my heart <3

Thanks for the tag Milk <3 I'm just tagging whoever I have in mind so don't feel obligated to do it! This is just for fun <3 @voidjelli @insipidenvy @miss-sternennacht @thatsrightdollface @doughnutboii @krispyt @wingsonghalo @etheralisi @kawff33 @kinkymoonaf

#hime menulis #ao3 #my fics have very long titles it's a toxic trait #hananene #tag game

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i-cant-feel-my-eyebrows-barbara · 1 year

Text

Lupe Garcia x Reader

Warnings: nothing crazy, just domesticity with some spice at the end lmao

Oh and its definitely not great so that's a warning, I wrote this in like 20 min and I have not written fanfic in probably a decade nor have I proofread this

I had an idea and figured I'd just put it somewhere because there is a CRIMINALLY LOW amount of reader inserts for aloto in general and I'm still in a chokehold

anyways have fun with this I guess here you go

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

• It was 5 am on a Saturday morning a few weeks before the beginning of the season, and Shaw called for practice 3 times a week until call

• Just so happened that she also called a team meeting bright and early this morning to go over plans for the season

• Rolling over beside a completely knocked out Lupe, you pull off the covers to sneak out of bed

• Before you can get your feet off the mattress a warm arm wraps around your waist and tugs you backward, her breath hitting your shoulder blade

• "S'too early baby, don't leave me yet"

• Leaning into her, you run your fingers along her forearm and press a kiss to her hair

• "Not too early if I have to shower and make breakfast before you leave me for the day."

• Lu let's out a groan and digs her nose into your neck, "practice isn't for another two hours. What do you need that much time for?"

• "Saturday's croissant day and I started the dough last night, and I like to take my time. Go back to bed grumpy, I'll wake you up when they're ready. I'm gonna go shower."

• She huffs out a laugh, "yeah and leave me all the freezing water when you're done. You always take up the hot water"

• "Never said I had to take one by myself," you turn to nudge her forehead with yours to catch her eyes

• Lu cracks a smile and pushes your shoulder to the bed to face her looking down at you, "flirting will get you nowhere this early, pretty"

• "Flirting, with you? I'm just trying to save time and hot water, no funny business hot shot"

• She leans down to catch the corner of your lips in a short kiss, "oh yeah? No funny business huh?"

• You roll over ontop of her for a moment before kissing her cheek and standing up-- much to her dismay

• "If you want to have breakfast and be at practice on time then there better not be, Garcia. And I can't send my girl off hungry and worn out, can I?"

• Winking at her and turning to stroll out the door to the bathroom you can hear the smirk when she lets out a chuckle and sits up to stretch, gazing after you.

• After turning on the water and letting it heat up you feel arms wrap around your waist and lips graze the shell of your ear

• "Can croissant day be tomorrow? I can deal with cereal today"

• "You're sounding a little desperate there, Lu. Do you want something?" you can feel her grip tighten as her lips drop to your neck. The steam from the shower begins to heat up the bathroom, her touch lighting up your skin as her fingers go for the buttons on your night gown.

• You turn your head slightly to catch her eyes once more with a smile, "oh and I completely forgot to mention, I bought more of that lemon verbena soap and lavendar lotion you like"

• The corner of her mouth twitches upward before bringing a hand to your cheek and kissing you fiercely and turning to press your back to the wall

• "Check the mouth, smart ass."

• She barely got out the door in time and Jess chewed her out about being late later, not that she'd have done anything differently

#lupe garcia #lupe garcia x reader #lupe garcia headcanons #aloto #a league of their own #i dont know if this is the only sort of fic ill ever post here but im taking a chance and choosing to have no shame over writing this lol #lupe garcia fanfic

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spacecowboyhotch · 2 years

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In His Script (requested)

request: hi! you said that your request were open and i am very much going to use this opportunity to spread my fluff hcs propaganda, where hotch likes to write the team encouraging sticky notes anonymously; and one day, reader finds little sticky notes on their (? i don't know what kind of xreaders you write) desk, and for some reason they look suspiciously like they were written in hotch's handwriting 👀.

pairing: gn!reader x aaron hotchner

contents: minimal angst, fluff, shy hotch supremacy

an: this came out more as a blurb, i hope that’s okay! as soon as i read it, i wanted to get something on paper. hope this is what you wanted and thanks for the request <3. gif is my lovely @hotch-girl. thank you H for gorgeous hotch content!

word count: 576

blurb masterlist | cm masterlist | request are open

There’s a running investigation going on at the BAU. To be fair, there almost always is, but this has nothing to do with serial killers, arsonists, or psychopaths. There’s someone in the office who leaves notes, sweet and encouraging ones to the entire team.

Except for you. You’re yet to receive one, and if you were being honest it made you feel a little left out. Whoever it was even had the guts to sneak into Hotch’s office to deliver his. Why were you the only one that hadn’t received one?

It goes on for about a month, and finally, when JJ brings it up on the jet on a journey home you express your frustration.

“I just feel like they have to hate my guts if everyone else on the team gets them. Rossi of all people?” You shrug, and JJ pats your shoulder in attempts to comfort you.

Rossi glares at you, “What that hell is that supposed to mean?”

“They’ve got a point,” Morgan agrees, and Rossi looks at him in disbelief.

Reid and Emily join in on the conversation while Hotch stays quiet as always. You could swear you catch a glimmer of apology in his eyes, when you meet his gaze but you’re not sure what he could possibly need to apologize to you about.

A few days after you lament to the team about wanting one of those stupid notes, it appears on your desk. It’s late, there are only a few people left in the office, and it wasn’t there just before you went to the restroom. It narrows down your suspect pool. Once you get close enough to read it, some things make sense and some seem more confusing than before. It reads:

You’re important to this team, never doubt that.

You snatch the note off your desk and make your way up to Hotch’s office in a rush,“It’s you.”

He looks up from the stack of paperwork he’s working on, eyebrows drawn together in confusion, “What?”

You close the door behind you, before walking over to his desk and placing the sticky note on it. His eyes widen in shock and he opens his mouth to say something but you cut him off, “You wrote one to yourself so people wouldn’t suspect you.”

“I didn’t expect them to think it was me in the first place but I wanted to be sure.”

“What took you so long to leave me one? What did I do wrong?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, it’s just that I was already telling you those things in person.”

You blink rapidly as you think about his words. He always was encouraging, always had the right thing to say when you felt frustrated or like you hadn’t done your best. He was always able to make you smile and to lift your spirits.

“Who says those things to you?” You can tell by his expression that your question has caught him off guard.

“I…I don’t know.”

“Can I? Tomorrow night at dinner. 7 p.m.?”

A soft, pink flush stains his cheeks, his lips pulling up into a bashful smile, “Sure, that would be nice.”

“Perfect, I’ll text you the details. I’ll leave you to it,” You start towards his door and just before opening it you turn towards him again. “And Hotch?”

“Yes?”

“I’ll keep your secret,” You tease.

His smile widens, his eyes crinkling at the edges, “Thank you.”

tagged: @ssahotchsbitch, @chelseyjoyce, @dadbodhotch11, @ssamorganhotchner, @kuolonsyoja, @heliotropehotch, @averyhotchner, @zetasaturno99, @art-and-thoughts, @laurensprentiss, @ssa-montgomery, @thinking-bucky, @ashhotchner, @moonshine-evelyn, @emlynblack, @sunshinexhotchner, @angelfxllcm, @wheelsupkels, @multiverse-mxdness, @jaspxr, @gspenc, @sadgirlml, @hotchs-bitch, @crowfootwrites, @wilbur-rabbit, @hotched, @aaronhotchy, @mommyhotchner, @reidselle, @fightingdragonswithreid, @honeybrowne, @rousethemouse

#gn!reader x aaron hotchner #gender neutral reader x aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x gn!reader #gn reader x hotch #hotch x gn!reader #aaron hotchner x reader #reader x aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner/reader #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner fluff #criminal minds fanfiction #arson writes

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healinghamster · 2 years

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adhd do it tomorrow way

have you ever felt like everything is buzzing around you and nothing makes sense? you are overwhelmed and tired and don't know what to do? i made a little self-plan for cases like this that might help other nd folks!

take a deep breath. i am the most sceptical person about breathing excercises on the earth (AND they are boring?) but sometimes it does help. try using an app that uses vibration to guide you - it gives additional sensory stimuli and makes it less boring

is it morning or evening? if it is morning, then proceed to the next step. if it is evening, ask yourself: is it really important right now? or can you just go to sleep and figure it out later? if important, also proceed to the next step

jot down every thought the fastest way you can. hand-written, typed, voice recorded even - doesn't matter! get these thoughts out of your system first

now it is kind of like an affinity diagram - see where the thoughts overlap and put them into groups (they can be random and don't have to make sense to other people! for example you can have a "stuff i want to start but cant" or "bzzzz thoughts")

usually those groups fall into one of these categories - mental health and feelings, school and/or work, chores and errands, events (at least, that's how it is for me! you can have your own big categories)

now put aside school/work and chores/errands thoughts. is there anything in mental health area that feels uncomfortable? are you tired? sleepy? do you need to talk to someone or hug a pet? i usually deal with my emotional needs first no matter how urgent the work is

is there anything that must be done right this instance/in the next 3 hours in all of the categories? if no, take a rest. if possible, a full rest with nothing at all.

if there are things to be done do only the most urgent and crucial ones, but remember that your wellbeing always comes first!

if you have spoons and brain energy, try to spread the events, chores and school/work throughout the week. like cleaning on monday, history assignment on wednesday etc

alternatively, just make a big list with the categories divided. do one thing from the list a day and say "i'll do the rest tomorrow" (do one thing tomorrow). if you feel like it - you can do more! if you don't have energy or time - don't stress about it. do it tomorrow (unless it is super urgent which i struggle with still and don't have answers yet)

repeat until you feel less overwhelemed and can use your usual coping and planning tecnhiques ps. i am not sure if this is accessible because of the colors; i tried to make an adhd easy-to-read version but i don't know others' needs that well so please tell me if it needs warnings or a plain formatting post! ps2. i am working on adhd-friendly planner printables (which will be free) and i am implementing this method there. if you find it helpful, look out for those!

#hamposi #actually adhd #adhd things #adhd tips #executive dysfunction #neurodivergent #tips #positivity blog #adhd #brain fog

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1-800-rh · 2 months

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(In case anyone wanted a pt 2 . Here is the second chapter to my Rodrick X Fem!Reader , you can find it on wattpad 😊My account is Bylersss!)

"YOU still not talking to them ?" Y/n took a sip of her smoothie. She quickly put it down & latched onto the passenger handle as Rodrick was driving on the sidewalk - in the opposite direction of traffic. "Ehh , sort ofish . Have you heard anything from your parents?"

She shrugged & pulled out her pink Motorola flip phone. "Hey Y/n ! We miss u & just wanted to let u know that we are now traveling to Miami concerning our new product. We may be going home in a month or two. Luv Mom XOXO." She snapped it shut & put it back into the pocket of her jacket.

Rodrick kept silent for a bit then finally spoke up when they'd come to a stop. "My parents are taking us to Roarin' Rapids next weekend. We leave on Friday , I was wondering if you'd like to come ?" He then nonchalantly shrugged. "If you want. Greg is bringing the Hamburglar so thought you might want to come."

She chuckled at the one of many insults he had for Rowley. She nodded & grabbed the handle once more. "Yeah for sure . Sounds awesome."

Y/n fiddled with her fingernails as they pulled into the Heffley residence. Rodrick quickly noticed it & decided to speak up about it . "You nervous or something?" She gave a heavy sigh & shook her head .

"No I just have lots of things going on in my mind."

"Seems like it might be something more."

She tightened her first & watched him pull the key out of the ignition, frustration was scribbled all over his face . "You know you can always talk to me right ."

Y/n looked around for anything to withdraw the attention off of her & onto something else . That's when she saw Greg & the familiar chubby boy. "Looks like Rowley's here again !" She smiled as they both exited the car & made their way to the tweens.

"Hey turd face , I told mom I'd give you some drum lessons in exchange for mom bucks. Follow me to the garage." He paused & gave the chubby kid an up & down examination, disgust written all over . "And bring Salad Dodger with you."

Rowley , the bowl cut haired kid, pointed to himself & whispered a , "Is he talking about me ?" to Greg. Y/n chuckled & nodded , following after the three boys.

She found herself sat on top of a cooler reading a magazine, Rodrick played away at the drums . Rowley & Greg both had confusion written on each of their faces , sharing a glance at one another here & there before looking at Rodrick & then back down to the bowls in front of them .

"When do we get to play the real drums ?"

Rodrick removed his headphones & chortled . "Like I would ever let you touch them!" Greg rolled his eyes & through the utensils he held on to the ground. "I'm sick of this. Let's go play Twisted Wizard , Rowley."

Y/n peeped over her magazine & looked at Rodrick , who was putting his drumsticks away. "Mom bucks ?"

"It's this dumb thing my mom came up with . Basically we bond as brothers & we get play money we can exchange for real bucks."

She dipped her head to indicate she understood. "Well how much have you made ? You can barely stand him."

"Haha . Funny. But I found the fake money in an old board game , so in actuality I don't really have to bond with him." He said . She chuckled & fished for her phone in her jacket.

"I gotta run , I made plans with my friends to catch a movie. Come with ?"

He walked with her down the set of stairs & shook his head. "Nah , the bands coming soon to practice for the talent show."

"Sucks. Alright then I'll see you tomorrow!" She leaned in & gave him a quick hug before pulling away & heading out front.

•

"What were you guys thinking ?! I asked for you to be civilized just for a bit !"

Rodrick groaned the moment his mom started going on about Sunday's incident, again. It had been 3 days since it happened & yet she kept going on & on .

However, it seemed like Frank had gotten a new job & had reduced his drinking - making him the only parent that was tolerable for the moment being. He couldn't wait to talk to Y/n, with the punishment came getting his van taken away & phone away. They lived next to each other but because part of his punishment was also not being allowed out of the house equaled no Y/n . He couldn't even talk to her in class as they would get too busy & by the time he tried talking to her class was over.

He cursed under his breath as he headed towards the domicile. His dad called out for him the moment he hopped out of the vehicle. "Rodrick , come here."

Rodrick spun & slowly made his way towards his father . He awaited for a whole ass lecture but to his surprise received his keys & cell phone back. He had obviously given Frank a weird look before the older man began to explain himself. "Your mom is upset , obviously. But she had asked me to give these to you. I know the new drums aren't the best but I felt bad about the last set & decided to buy you those."

Rodrick felt himself smile but he was able to contain it & only said "Thanks." before heading to his home.

He flipped his phone open to see multiple missed calls & texts from Y/n , Bill , Drew , & Ward. First & foremost he went ahead & gave a call to his band members.

Once the call had concluded he called Y/n , there was no answer. He tried again.

Nothing.

Then one more time .

He had felt worried & quickly went to his window that faced her room. He felt his heart drop as he watched her walk out the house , hand in hand with Carter Samuels. She paused to adjust her shoe lace & quickly reached for his hand again , the biggest smile was spread on her face.

Rodrick quickly shut the blinds & tossed his phone onto his bed . He gritted his teeth before punching the wall . He then could only sigh & tossed himself onto his bed.

#writing #movies #rodrick rules #rodrick heffley #rodrick x reader #doawk rodrick #diary of a wimpy kid #doawk #devon bostick #x reader #rodrick x y/n

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scoops-aboy86 · 3 months

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This kink has really unlocked something in me, because I don't write a lot of smut but this is the smuttiest stuffing I've ever written. Still unbeta'd, we die like Barb. 🫣🫣🫣

There's still a little bit more left to post after this, so stay tuned. I'll probably get antsy and put it up tomorrow.

🔞 Seven Christmases pt. 7

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

Home pt. i (2790 words)

rated: T | cw: none | tags: chubby eddie, established relationship, weight gain, belly kink, stuffing, fluff, they’re in love, sugar cream pie, coming untouched

When Joyce offers to let them stay the night so they don’t have to drive home, Steve politely declines.

When Robbin offers her parents’ guest room, Steve shakes his head and says, “Nah, Eddie’s too loud.”

“Oh my god, dingus, I don’t need to know that!”

“Wha—Robbie, no,” he chokes out. “He snores, Jesus!”

Never mind that they are going to get up to things tonight that Eddie will be very loud about, but that genuinely wasn’t what he’d meant. There are still some things his platonic soulmate doesn’t need to know about, for all that he’s told her enough in the past that she can probably guess. (And the only thing she’d ever said on the subject was, “Well, at least with that EMT training you’ll know what to do if it’s ever really too far,” which. True.)

Jonathan helps him load their haul of presents into the car, because Eddie is still stuffed to capacity and laid out on the couch like a beached whale, oblivious to the party still going on around him. Not asleep yet, though it’s only a matter of time. He focuses blearily through the haze of the approaching food coma when Steve comes to get him, movements sluggish but willing, and between his efforts and Steve’s muscles they get him up and out and in and buckled.

Steve helps him crank the seat back so he still has room to breathe instead of being squashed by both the seat belt and his round gut, and takes a moment to admire the sight before him. Shallow breaths, interspersed with little groans and hiccups and burps, whining when anything jostles him even a little, Eddie is magnificent. With the apron slipped off and run quickly back into the house, the entire underside of his swollen belly is on display in a hard arc, both tight and soft as Steve, briefly, allows himself to touch.

Just to provide some relief! He doesn’t cup where Eddie’s underbelly covers his lap. Doesn’t trace his fingers over the red lines still lingering from where Eddie’s pants had cut into him all day, right up until just before the final feast, or where the bottom of his undershirt has ridden up to cling near the apex of his domed stomach, or where the sweater has rucked up even further to escape the swell. Doesn’t lean down to bite, like he wants to. No, he’s good, just offering a quick belly rub to help ease some of the pressure before they hit the road so that any bumps along the way won’t jar this precious cargo.

“Stevieee,” Eddie moans, low and quiet, arching into his hands.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” he murmurs back, distracted by the way his fingers don’t sink into his boyfriend’s fat like they usually can. Rubbing, feeling, massaging, not groping, not… not really.

“Wanna—hic—go home,” Eddie whines, and Steve relents with one final caress over stretch-mark littered skin. He can’t wait to count how many more there are with his tongue.

Eddie is asleep by the end of the driveway, oblivious to their assembled family all waving them a warm goodbye from the porch.

The thing is, while Steve hasn’t been stuffing himself like his (indeed loudly snoring) boyfriend, he’s still been to six holiday get-togethers today. He’s been eating light portions, not going back for seconds… But it was two heavy breakfasts, one heavy lunch, one bowl of leek soup with a limp side salad, and two dinners with two rounds of dessert. Not to mention cookies and candies in between, some peanut brittle, some fudge, some of those apple slices with caramel dip that Mrs. Buckley had sent over with them…

He gives in and unbuttons his own pants while sitting at the last red light out of Hawkins. It feels nice; he can only imagine what it feels like when Eddie does it, that little embodiment of a sigh of relief. After all they’ve been through he just loves that Eddie can have that.

The button from Eddie’s pants still burns a hole in his pocket all through the long drive, the gift tag off his Christmas present, signed to Steve with love.

A hand on Eddie’s (which has drifted to rest on the shelf of his stomach as he slept) rouses him to a sleep-stale taste on his tongue. He rolls it around in his mouth, smacks his lips, trying to clear the funk before he’s even gotten around to opening his eyes.

“Eds, baby, wake up. We’re home.”

Then something bumps against his bottom lip. And because he recognizes Steve’s voice and would trust him with his life (has, in fact, more than once), he opens. Smiles when he recognizes the texture of a sugar cookie from one of the mostly empty tins, and flutters his eyes open. His sweetheart knows that he likes to wake up to something sweet.

“There he is,” Steve murmurs from where he’s leaning into the passenger side, a small grin widening across his handsome face. What a dork, Eddie thinks fondly. He finishes guiding the cookie into Eddie’s mouth and cups his cheek, thumb brushing away some stray crumbs while he chews. “Think you can get up for me?”

Eddie chews and hums an affirmative. For Steve, he can make anything happen.

There’s just… one more thing he wants though, tonight.

He swallows, clears his throat. Lets his hands drift over himself slowly, sensually, testing, and notices Steve’s eyes follow them up and down. “Mm. The thing is, Steve, I’ve gotten pretty full today, just not all the way. Not quite. But it wouldn’t take much.” He draws a slow circle around his half-exposed navel. “Do you have anything else I could eat?”

The words are barely out of his mouth when Steve blurts, red faced, “Yeah, I have something.”

“Of course you do, sweetheart,” Eddie coos happily, patting his belly. His eyes dip down, and there’s an additional flare of heat through his core to see that Steve’s pants are undone as well and, hmm… He hasn’t given much thought to it before, but a little softness suits Steve too. Doesn’t have to be as much as he’s packed on himself, but it’s nice. “Okay then, big boy—help me up?”

Steve practically trips over his own feet getting out of the car and around to Eddie’s side to get the door for him.

What Steve has waiting for him almost makes Eddie tear up, it’s so thoughtful.

Twice a year (Christmas and for Eddie’s birthday), Wayne always made him a sugar cream pie. Eddie knows it’s because the recipe is easy and the ingredients are pretty simple—but he also knows it’s the only thing Wayne ever baked, and he did that for him. Everything else he’d eaten today had been great, but this… this is meaningful.

“I asked Wayne what your favorite dessert is,” Steve explains shyly. “I, uh. I hope I made it right.”

Eddie is already comfortable on the bed, except for the straining clothes he’s still wearing. He leans forward in anticipation with his eyes fixed on the first slice pie and his mouth watering. “Steve, it’s perfect. You’re perfect, my fucking… baking Adonis. Wanna taste it.”

So Steve hands him the plate.

And the first bite is heaven. The familiar flavor, the familiar texture, spreading over his tongue and down his throat and into his already packed stomach. He actually moans at how good it all is, and Steve settles reverently next to him on the mattress, unable to tear his eyes away.

Throughout the first slice, Steve just watches and offers him sips from a cold glass of milk. Eddie pauses here and there to tell him how it tastes, how he used just the right amount of cinnamon sugar on top, how he would happily smear the filling over Steve’s body and greedily lick it all off again. He squirms as he says the last one, trying halfheartedly to get out of his pants without needing to free up his hands, or at least get some friction on his dick. It doesn’t really work, only makes him more desperate, which drives him to scoop bigger bites into his mouth at a time. If he can’t wiggle out, he can settle for bursting some seams.

The second slice goes much the same, only Steve settles a palm on the near side of Eddie’s belly a few bites in. Eddie just hums, accepts another drink of milk, and keeps going, so Steve keeps touching. Follows the curve of it across the tight, churning top, hand slowly alternating between big circles and long ones, until he’s reaching fully across Eddie’s widened frame. The first tentative touch of fingertips against hot bare skin makes Eddie groan with his mouth full. The first full press, Steve’s entire hand on his exposed belly, kneading where he still manages to be soft, elicits a much more lewd, extended moan that ends in a belch.

“Oooh yeah, there baby…”

During the third, Steve moves to kneel before him on the bed and give both sides the same treatment. Eddie sits there, eyes sliding closed as he burps his way through. He just basks in it, concentrating too hard on eating to bother stretching out like a lazy cat the way he kind of wants to under Steve’s touch, feels so loved and worshiped. The piece of pie goes down faster in the face of that devotion (and the space it frees up).

Partway into the fourth, Steve slides the tips of his fingers under Eddie’s stretched-out undershirt. Inches it up slowly, leaning forward to kiss pale, scarred, tatted up skin as it’s revealed, until both sweater and shirt are bunched up almost to his armpits. It gets Eddie to open his eyes and look down at himself with a hiccuping groan, at the way there is so much of him now.

God, he’d been skinny his entire life all the way through high school, all six fucking years of it, living off cheap shit and not much of it. Whenever he’d gone over to a friend’s house for dinner he’d eaten everything he could without being outright rude, shoveled it in like it was a matter of survival because it was.

It’s not anymore. His appetite has grown into a beast of a thing, one he never really bothers to rein in, but today he’s left even that in the dust. His stomach feels so tight and his entire world has narrowed to just this, just Steve rubbing his belly and the next mouthful, the bite sliding between his plump lips.

Before he knows it, the fourth slice is gone and he’s on to the fifth.

As Eddie starts to slow down, to truly and definitely fill up, he tries to squirm and resettle only to find himself pinned. His belly grumbles and aches and completely covers the throbbing hard-on trapped in his pants, hiding the way his zipper still splays open long-hidden under his own bulk. He has never been this full, never pushed himself this hard, but it’s been all day and he’s so close, almost there…

“You’re doing so good, Eds,” Steve murmurs when prompted with a whine. He’s still touching, pressing, kneading, holding the soft underside of Eddie’s belly in both hands and hefting experimentally before carefully easing it back to his lap, careful not to let it bounce just now. “What do you need, babe? Tell me what you need.”

The question, and how full he is, makes Eddie’s breath hitch. It’s all he can do to keep chewing, the ache in his belly taking up more and more of his attention and he’s so close, Jesus H. Christ, if he could just—

“Feed me,” he gasps. “F-finish it, St—hic—Steve, I—”

The plate is already out of his hands. Steve doesn’t even bother putting another slice on it, just takes the fork and grabs the pie pan. Sweet filling smears across Eddie’s lips as he accepts a bite, and there’s another right there and waiting before he’s even swallowed. He can’t resist (doesn’t want to), taking that too and feeling his cheeks bulge until he manages to swallow it all with a moan. All the while he’s doing what company has prevented him from doing all day: rub at his belly as he eats, soothing and massaging to try and make just a little bit more room.

Steve nudges the next bite against his mouth, biting his own lip when Eddie’s wrap around the fork and he drags slowly back with the offering on it now missing. “I can’t believe you’re still eating, Eds,” Steve whispers in awe. “You’re so…” His hips are starting to rock, Eddie can feel the motion against his gut and padded thigh. Just a little, like he can’t help it.

Mouth too full to respond, Eddie reaches down to paw at his own buried waistband and try to shove it down, at least wriggle his ass out to give his cock more room to breathe, still can’t—

He remembers being in the bathroom a few hours ago, thinking that he could come in these pants and no one would be able to see the sticky wetness he’d be left sitting in because of his belly. Accepting yet another mouthful, his eyes roll back briefly in his head but he doesn’t come, just moans and drools and gets more pre-come on the inside of his boxers.

There’s pie filling on his chest and he mourns each fleck of it that escapes, but it’s so hard to swallow and he can’t budge these pants.

“Eddie?” Steve pauses, putting the pie down even though Eddie whimpers at the loss. “Here, let me…”

And, okay, letting Steve eases him back and just about peel the pants and underwear off his lower half gives Eddie time to clear his mouth and gasp for breath. “Ohfuck, Stevie—” as Steve plants open-mouthed kisses on his belly, on his splayed thighs, on the insides of his dimpled fucking knees as he pulls the clothes off over his still-socked feet “—don’t stop, keep, I can’t—urp—if I stop I won’t be able to finish.”

Steve nods, but gets him another drink of milk first and presses gently against his tender stomach until another series of wet, hiccupy burps come out, and then soothes a hand over the taut skin. “There,” he murmurs, eyes almost unfocused as his gaze roves in a way that makes Eddie feel not just seen but memorized. Another soft pat. “More room.” Then he reaches for the pie again.

And now it’s not even the fork anymore. Steve delivers bites to Eddie’s eager mouth with his fingers, whimpering whenever Eddie sucks on them. He starts kissing Eddie between bites, licking up the food that his desperate maw missed and feeding them back to him on his own tongue.

And Eddie is begging for it, broken little pleas and whines and burps and helpless hiccups that escape through his perpetually full mouth, the most common words being “Steve” and “please” and “more” and “more” and “more.” He keeps accepting more almost faster than he can swallow it all but whimpers whenever Steve tries to slow down. Chewing and swallowing and working his fingers against a cramp because he’s so fucking close—

“Last bite,” Steve whispers, awed, and Eddie opens his eyes a sliver. (When had he closed them?) He can’t do more than that, can barely move from where he’s sitting bare-assed on the bed with his belly hanging out, cock throbbing like a brand against his underbelly. So close, so close…

The last morsel breaches his sticky lips and his eyes roll back in his head knowing that he’d already eaten himself to sleep once before and yet just finished an entire pie all by himself. And it’s perfect, because the last bite feels heavy and slow traveling down his throat, but it goes, and it squeezes just as heavily into his abused stomach and that’s it. No more room, absolute maximum capacity. Anything else, even a single drop more milk, and he’ll burst.

The little voice in the back of his head whispering more more MORE finally is drowned out by another moaning full full FULL. His eyes roll back in his head while his teeth are still clamped wantonly around Steve’s fingers, and he comes so hard his vision whites out and the all-consuming ache of his fullness turns to fizzing hot pleasure that reaches every extremity and nerve. He comes with the entirety of his overflowing body, clutching at himself, wholly consumed by the pleasure and the excess and the fact that it is Steve feeding him, loving him, to completion.

Part 8

#wg steddie #chubby eddie munson #feeder steve harrington #feedee eddie munson #scoops words #scoops - do not unwrap fic #belly stuffing smut #the exciting almost-conclusion

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voidify333 · 4 months

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20 Questions for fic writers

I was tagged by @almarnatiaam- thanks!

1. How many works do you have on A03?

2. What's your total A03 word count?

133,211

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Mostly Ace Attorney these days.

I've also written for Les Mis and Good Omens; Les Mis makes up most of my works at 20 (though 4 of those aren't really fics, they're fanart pieces I posted to ao3 for sewerexchange).

And there's a couple random fics that aren't any of these: The Temptation Of Immediate Relief is a Pride & Prejudice missing scene fic that I wrote for high school english class and posted a polished version after graduation, and All Alone is a short War & Peace fic expanding the character of Anatole's wife who's entirely just a plot device with no character in canon (elephant in the room: the name I chose for her was retroactively made weird by my later fandom journeys by being cognate to the name of a completely different character, but like, whatever). I still think both of these are pretty good

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Wilson & Sons (Good Omens outsider POV fic about Aziraphale's barber, a family business that he's been going to since the 1700s), at 1861 kudos

You're Better Off Without Him (Good Omens outsider POV about the guy in episode 4 who says that line), at 763 kudos

perfectly statue-still (Ace Attorney 3+1 fic about elevators being a trigger for Miles, angst with a happy ending), at 433 kudos

driving back in style (in my saloon will do quite nicely) (Good Omens fic, silly cute little A/C getting together scenario), at 303 kudos

naughty list (Ace Attorney fic; angst with a happy ending; the premise is that Gregory didn't get to tell Miles that Santa wasn't real so when the von karma household didn't do santa Miles thought he was on the naughty list for a solid 4 years. If you haven't read it, ho ho ho 'tis the season to read it now), at 241 kudos

Yeah, my good omens stuff is never being unseated from the top of my leaderboard unless I end up getting into an even bigger fandom at some point in the future

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to, because comments absolutely give me life and I need a constant stream of them, but unfortunately I don't get around to it often enough

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Absolute angstiest out of my published works is probably my very first ao3 fic, not quite nowhere to turn. Valjean sees Javert die and is too late to do anything. The fic is very flawed in that I was 15 and had not learned how to do subtlety, I can't look at it now, but I was a hyperlexic kid with A's in English so I think it's still better than what most people were writing as teens

Second answer is merry christmas., my most recent fic (if you haven't read it yet, HO HO HO TIS THE SEASON), it's Miles' POV for the first bit of Turnabout Goodbyes, it ends on a note of hopelessness that he's doomed to be convicted, but it only debatably counts since anyone who's played the games knows that the turnabout is coming

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Most of my stuff has pretty happy endings, that's just my sensiility as a writer-- even "not quite nowhere to turn" has an afterlife reunion scene-- so I'm not sure what to say here.

There's some fics where the conflict was trivial in the first place (comedy and crack stuff), there's some fics where I feel in hindsight that the ending was a copout and that a rockier path to happiness would have been more interesting if I had mustered the strength to write it (When Tomorrow Comes is the primary example tbh), and there's some where it feels earned (the fics in this category include the ones I like the most)

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I've thankfully never gotten hate on AO3 that I can recall

9. Do you write smut?

Yes I do, but none of it is up on my ao3 account at this time. I have a ton in my google docs though...

10. Do you write crossovers?

I've written a couple. Both of them, funnily enough, of the format "javert meets one of my other blorbos and they recognise what they have in common"

In "and if you fall" (honestly the point of the title would have landed better if I did the full lyric "and if you fall (as lucifer fell)" but at the time that felt too corny), Crowley happens to be in the right place at the right time to talk Javert down from jumping (context: within GO book canon Crowley was asleep for the 19th century except for getting up in 1832 for a loo break)

In "The Choice Of Death" Miles Edgeworth meets Javert's ghost (AA ghost lore notwithstanding) one liminal night during his year away

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

On a tangent though, bc there's no question directly relevant to share this info, I HAVE gotten fanart for a fic before: this amazing fanart by @maym0rin for chapter 2 of "perfectly statue-still" (she gave me permission to crosspost it on tumblr bc she didn't have tumblr at the time but she later got tumblr when the twitter ship started sinking). There is nothing more flattering as an author than getting fanart, I hope this first time isn't the last time

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not yet!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes, I helped with @almarnatiaam's fic A King's Heart and got a co-writer credit.

And outside of cowriting on the level of be listed as cowriter on ao3, my friend who doesn't have tumblr (it's tsl for all the mtnr server friends reading this) and I have been collaborating and bouncing ideas on each other's fics for... wow, it's been over a year now!

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

Honestly it would have to be Valvert because it got to me at a formative time and has shaped the kinds of ships I like for life

15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

What do you mean "the" wip????

I have two dead fics and counting (one for les mis, one for good omens), and that's just the ones where I posted the initial content before realising it's too intimidating to finish. There's so many more in my docs; my friends know about some of them

16. What are your writing strengths?

Here are some that I have no problem bragging about, I reread my own fics often and smile at the moments where I did a banger line

Character voice (especially when the characters are my blorbos)

Using fancy vocabulary with precision in the prose to achieve effect (a skill born from trying to copy the vibes of victor hugo)

Witty prose humour (a skill born from trying to copy the vibes of pratchett & gaiman)

Prose from the POV of someone in a fucked up state- someone in a dark place emotionally, or someone whose motivations are fundamentally misguided or outright malicious. This is THE most fun shit to write for me

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Committing to long term character pain and tragic character conflict when it's not pulled/extrapolated directly from canon. I have many times read a fic where the author puts blorbo through the ringer and thought "damn if only I wasn't such a fucking coward and could write stuff like this". I've become less of a coward over the years and now enjoy

Writing anything long without a detailed plan for the entire thing

The need to use words with precision and write perfectly in character is as much a weakness as a strength. I am not a "write a whole first draft then edit" person I am a "dot points for the bits I don't have perfect words for" person and this sometimes causes issues where I assume I'll figure out how to get from A to B later but then it turns out to not make sense to get from A to B

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I have 4 years of Duolingo French and have used this occasionally for my Les Mis works. The way I think of my Les Mis works is that the characters are all speaking French behind the fourth wall but the fourth wall translates for us, so I avoid puns that only work in English except on a couple super cracky occasions.

For Inspector Javert Chooses Death (a fic with the premise "AU where instead of dying Javert fakes his death like Edgeworth and goes to england and unrepresses his homosexuality") I was originally planning to write the whole letter near the end of the fic in french and put the translation in footnote but my beta reader got confused so I scrapped that and had the prose paraphrase most of the letter and only included one French sentence

19. First fandom you wrote for?

First fandom I published fic on ao3 for was Les Mis. First fandom I published fic anywhere online for was Animorphs (when I was 12 I published a weird dark comedy fic to FFN which was a 5+1 or similar format of Visser Three executing people for slighting him by morphing into huge creatures and eating them. Then people on animorphsforum.com told me the fic was bad so I lost all confidence and didn't write fic again for years)

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

Right now it's between my two most recent AA solo fics: merry christmas. (already explained; 1-4 fic) and the perfect weapon (Manfred POV throughout his revenge plot, SUPER fun to write all that villain pov, grew from the premise "he had to have known about the nightmare to plan all that")

My best Les Mis fic is but i have seen the same (i know the shame in your defeat); it explores my favourite parallel with a cool alternating scene format and I actually still like the writing and characterisation even all these years later which is a rare honour for one of my high school Les Mis fics

Tagging: @squadron-of-damned @kaleran @samioli @ashkazora @azalawa-scroggs

#ace attorney #les mis #valvert #narumitsu #good omens #fanfic

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