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mariasont · 1 month

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Office Sleepover 3 - A.H

a/n: yeehaw this took me way longer than i thought but here she be

i feel like im so ass at writing smut so just bear with me yall

masterlist

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

part one here! part two here!

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: in which reader gets put on a hit-list and has to stay in the office (kind of based off when penelope got put on a hit-list by the dirty dozen)

warnings: 18+ MDNI, hungover reader, unwanted attention from some rando, awk as fuck reader, fingering, dirty talk, doing the dirty in the office, definitely illegal, definitely probably caught on cameras

wc: 4.2k

Everything hurt--your stomach churned, your head throbbed, and your eyes burned. You squeezed them shut, feeling your body tense against the stiff fabric of the pull-out couch. Fists curled tightly, you gradually let your eyelids part, casting a slow, sweeping glance around the room, trying to piece together what the hell happened.

Pain hammered around the inside of your head. You desperately needed a hefty dose of Advil--ten at least. As though your mind had materialized them, you rolled over to discover a bottle and a glass of water on the nightstand. You assumed you had JJ to thank, though the certainty of that was as fuzzy as your thoughts. Each effort to reconstruct last night's events was a stab to your already excruciating migraine.

You had all your clothes on, that was a plus considering your notorious history with wine and stripping. Stripping. Your hand slapped over your mouth, a floodgate of recollections bursting through--calling Hotch in a wine-induced haze, flashing your tits, asking him to stay.

You were in full-blown panic mode, the sudden urge to throw up clawing at your throat. The bed was empty, save for yourself, but you vividly remember Hotch laying down with you. This only left two possibilities: he left after you fell asleep or it had been a figment of your imagination. You were desperately hoping it was the latter.

But clearly, the universe had its own plan, because there he was, leaning against the door frame, a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and a paper bag that, by the smell of it, contained greasy food.

With a throat like sandpaper and sweaty palms, you met your boss's gaze. "Hotch," you croaked, pausing to swallow. "Um, good morning--or is it? My sleep schedule's always off after drinking. It feels bright in here, right? It's also kinda hot, is the AC working?"

You impulsively rose from the bed, a decision you instantly regretted as the room seemed to spin around you in protest.

"Sit down," he commanded, a firmness in his voice that brooked no opposition, and you promptly sat your ass back down, watching him with an expectant look.

You attempted to read his face, but it was a blank slate, making you that much more nervous. He must hate you, you figured, because you certainly hated yourself. Your boss had seen your nipples. A wave of heat washed over you, and you clenched your eyes shut, as if that could make this situation disappear.

"Here," he said, handing you the coffee and the bag, then gesturing to the Advil on the counter. "Take that, and I know you might not feel like eating, but it's necessary. The food and coffee will stabilize your blood sugar levels."

"Right, yeah, course," you nod, accepting the items with shaky hands, holding the cup with a grip that's a little too firm. "Listen, sir, I'm really sorry about last night. I promise I don't usually drink that much. I don't even know how I got that drunk, and I know I acted completely inappropriate towards you. If you need to file a complaint, I understand. Again, I'm just so sorry..."

You wanted to cry, but you held it back, knowing it would only make this whole situation worse. You deliberately avoided his eyes, focusing on anything but him while you absentmindedly toyed with the breakfast sandwich in your hands.

After a moment, he releases a soft sigh, the mattress sinking slightly as he settled beside you, his knee gently knocking yours.

"I'm aware this week's been tough on you. It's, uh, clear you weren't thinking straight, and I'm not about to make a formal issue out of a slip-up."

Your head dipped, as you tried to fend off the rising warmth in your face. "I don't think I can ever look you in the eyes again."

"That feels dramatic," he pointed out, a chuckle in his voice that made you glance his way. "Trust me, it's already forgotten."

That was a lie. He may have lacked Reid's eidetic abilities, but there was no possible, imaginative way that he would forget the image of you topless--it was imprinted in his memory. In fact, it had become the sole focus of his thoughts ever since. He silently thanked the gods that it was a Saturday, and he didn't have any pressing work issues.

"Somehow, that's not very comforting," you replied, a suppressed giggle breaking through as you met his gaze. "So, did you, um, end up staying over?"

Your cheeks glowed with a soft pink, hands unconsciously smoothing over your thighs--a nervous habit of yours he had quickly taken notice of. It emerged involuntarily when you faced tough cases, or when your computer took too long to start up, or even when the elevator made an unexpected noise.

"I did," he admitted, "You shouldn't have been alone."

Your whole body felt like it was on fire, and you were weirdly frustrated that you couldn't recall being the same bed as him, being able to feel his body against yours. You bet he was warm, and soft, and large against you.

"Thank you."

His phone went off. "Hotchner."

Your eyes followed his movements, noting the firm nods, watching as he stood, his expression hardening, jaw tightening, and hand coming to rest on his chin as he faced away from you.

The phone call was brief, and he quickly turned his attention back to you. "We've got a case."

And it was quite the case--three male victims, all in their forties. Each crime scene was close to Quantico, about twenty minutes, sparing the team any extensive travel. Though, after last night, you don't think you would have minded if they had been halfway across the country.

You were really banking on Hotch's ability to keep things professional, knowing full well that if Morgan caught wind of this, you'd be better off dead.

The team was huddled around the briefing table, absorbing Garcia's detailed rundown of the killings--they were violent to say the least--with heads bashed in and over twenty stab wounds per victim. Whoever was doing this was angry.

Hotch eventually split everyone up into tasks—Spencer and Morgan to the crime scenes, JJ and Emily interviewing the families, and Rossi was tasked with convening with the local police force. So, you know who that left at the office? You, Hotch, and Penelope. What a great group.

You avoided both of them, a pattern that had become all too familiar you had realized. Hunched over your desk, you were engrossed in sending Spencer images of your latest research on the town. True to form, he responded--Can you just fax that over to the police station?--because god forbid, he has to read it from his phone.

So, there you were, barely resisting the urge to slam your head into the fax machine. You wouldn't consider yourself technology impaired, but to say you were on friendly terms would be overstating it.

"Need help?"

"Oh, yes, please—," you began, but your voice trailed off as you noticed one of the guys from forensics hovering just a tad too close for comfort.

"They're always a bit stubborn," he noted, barely giving you space to breathe before his shoulder nudged against yours as he fiddled with the device, "just a slight...there we go."

The machine sprang into action, prompting you to step back and acknowledge his help with a nod. "Oh, thanks."

"Not a problem," he assured, stepping closer in the process, his fingers lightly brushing your thigh as he pointed out the correct button. "You see, it's all about timing," he added, his voice low and unnecessarily close, "these things can be so fussy, right?"

A subtle nod was your only response, hoping he'd take the hint that you weren't in the mood for small talk. The hangover clung stubbornly, and the whiff of his breath was a cruel taunt against the fragile peace you were maintaining over your stomach.

"So, do you find this kind of tech stuff challenging?" he asked, a little too casually. The question hung awkwardly in the air. You sought to put some distance between you, yet he matched your every move, keeping the space closed. "I mean, I'm pretty good with my hands, not just with machines honestly."

Ew.

You mustered a smile, though you were sure it was more of a grimace. The room felt smaller, the walls inching closer. "I usually manage," you responded, the strain evident in your voice.

He leaned closer, if that was possible, it was like the concept of personal space was foreign to him. "Maybe I can show you a few tricks, help you manage a little better?"

His words were light, but his proximity was anything but, almost suffocating.

Just as you were firmly about to tell him to shove it, a sharp voice beat you to it--probably for the best.

"That won't be necessary."

The forensics guy, whose name you still hadn't gotten, straightened, his smile faltering under the weight of Hotch's piercing, don't fuck with me, stare. A look usually saved for unsubs and incompetent officers, but now it singled out this man.

The same look remained on the poor guy as he directed his words to you, "why don't you join me? We need to go over some case details."

It really wasn't a question.

The man backed up instantly, mumbling something under his breath about just trying to help, but Hotch's glare followed him until he was well out of earshot.

Surprisingly, a similar sharpness was aimed at you as soon as he opened his mouth. "I'd appreciate it if you chose to flirt on your own time, not the Bureau's."

His words landed with the sting of an unexpected slap. You blinked, taken aback. "What? I wasn't--,"

But he didn't allow you time to finish. Instead, he pushed a water bottle in your hands, his eyes scrutinizing your face with such an intensity that you wished the floor would swallow you whole. "Drink. You look pale."

"Gee, thanks," you grumbled, under your breath, more to yourself than him, as he wheeled around and headed briskly for the briefing room.

Your steps lagged slightly behind him, your forehead lined with a thoughtful frown. What was that about? The way he acted--the tightness that had formed around his mouth and the harshness in his words, it was so unlike him, well, at least for it to be directed at you.

The rest of the day unfolded just as you thought it would upon waking--like shit. Hotch kept his distance, his exchanges with you brief and to the point. Every time you tried to grab his attention, hoping to clarify things (why you felt the need you weren't sure), he was already looking else, focused on literally anything but you.

It was painfully evident that he was avoiding any personal conversation with you, a realization that bit deeper than anticipated.

The office slowly emptied, the case binding you and Hotch to the briefing room, the only sounds being the faint gentle tapping of your pen and the occasional snap of your hair tie.

It was late when you finally spoke. "Hotch, this says the victim had fibers under his nails that don't match anything from the suspect's home."

Hotch's gaze snapped up to yours. "Are you saying you think the forensics team missed that?"

You met his eyes squarely, cocking your head to the side at the tone of his voice. "I'm not saying anything. I'm just pointing something out."

He bridged the space between you, his jaw set in a firm line. You could feel the warmth spreading across your cheeks as the distance dwindled.

"I'm just saying I don't want you jumping to conclusions based on underdeveloped theories."

You met his eyes with a glare, your teeth grinding together in the process. "Underdeveloped? Is that how you see my contributions now?"

The space between you had now vanished, your heart racing, finger almost poking into his chest as you spoke.

Hotch settled back against the wall, arms folded across his chest, giving you a pointed look. "I didn't say that," he replied, his voice level, markedly different from your agitated one. "We just can't afford to investigate every insignificant detail."

"Every insignificant detail?" you scoffed, "these are leads, Hotch."

His shoulders lift in an indifferent shrug that made you want to wrap your hands around his throat, and not in the good way. "Maybe. However, we need to be sure before we pursue it."

Drawing in a controlled breath, you fought to stay calm, but he was making it very hard. The sensation was all too reminiscent of college, contending with the overconfident frat boys just to voice your thoughts. That comparison may have been a tad extreme--Hotch was far from being like those insufferable boys, but he was certainly pushing your limits right now.

"I am sure. Why aren't you listening."

"I am listening," he said, but his voice was distant. "I just... I just don't want to get sidetracked, that's all."

"Sidetracked? By what, exactly?"

"I'm just not sure you're all here right now."

You felt your cheeks warming with a tinge of shame, but you pushed back, fists clenched at your sides. "I'm here, Hotch. I'm focused."

"Because last night—,"

"Last night was a mistake, okay? I got it. I already apologized for that. But I'm not irresponsible, my focus is on this case."

A lengthy pause followed, his expression unreadable. "You're certain about that?"

"Yes, I'm certain," you snapped, moving towards him again. "And for the record, JJ said you were okay with us having a few drinks."

"I was," he admitted. "But I didn't think—,"

You didn't let him finish. "What, that I'd get wasted? That I'd do something stupid? I'm sorry I'm not perfect."

"Well, yeah."

"Screw you, Hotch."

You knew that was a mistake the minute his nostrils flared, his chest now a pressing force against yours.

Then, without warning, his lips crashed into yours. A muffled oomph of surprise left you, your hands hanging motionless at first, only to quickly melt, grasping at his jacket, pulling him into you.

It wasn't a gentle kiss, nor was it kind, but it was magic, exceeding anything you could have imagined, setting every fiber of you on fire. His lips pressed against yours with an intensity that drew out a breathy sigh, arousal tingling through you, and your passion rose to meet his, equally hungry, equally desperate.

Your fantasies had never done him justice--kissing him was intoxicating, and now you could feel yourself getting lost in the sensation, realizing it was everything you never dared to hope for.

Drawing back just enough, his hands drew you closer, pressing against the dip of your back, his breath fusing with yours in a dizzying blend, making the air seem scarce.

Against the soft pressure of his lips, you murmured, "I wasn't flirting."

There's a pause as his eyes locked on yours, searching, questioning. Then, his hand settled at the side of your neck. "You better not have been."

Any witty comeback you had dissipated as his lips crashed against yours again, more urgently this time, his hands tracing every contour of your clothed body with an insatiable curiosity.

His grip tightened around your waist, effortlessly lifting you onto the briefing table's cold surface with a resounding thud, his palms then cradling your thighs. Documents and files fluttered beneath you, hopefully they weren't too important. His eyes, dark pools of brown, were meticulously scanning your face.

"You," he breathes out, his voice a low rumble laced with something you couldn't quite place, "have consumed my thoughts since the moment I discovered you on my couch." He inches closer, his breath scorching your cheek as his fingers waltzed a pattern up your thighs. "Do you understand that feeling? The intense frustration?"

You were rendered motionless, frozen in place, scared to even twitch and risk this all being a very realistic wet dream. This was Hotch, your boss, the man defined by his lack of outward emotion. To think that you--of all people--could have an effect on him was an overwhelming concept. The room seemed to tilt on its axis as he gently guided your legs apart, positioning himself between them.

"Y-Yeah, I know," you uttered unevenly, your thoughts scattering as your hands tentatively reached for his collar.

"So, you know what it's like, huh?"

Your nod was subtle, a flustered smile briefly lighting up your expressions.

"And?" he prompts, while his fingers explore the shape of your thighs, squeezing gently.

You squirm under his gaze, the intensity of it making your heart race inside your chest.

"And... it's annoying," you confess, puffing out a breath, trying sound annoyed, but the delicate blush dusting your nose gave you away, you were sure.

"Annoying?" Hotch repeats, his hand tenderly angling your face upward, his smile laced with a taunt. "Is that all?"

You rolled your eyes, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "It's distracting," your voice was softer now, desire pooling in your belly as you grasp just how compromising of a position you were in.

"Distracting," he tsked, echoing you once again as he nodded solemnly, pulling your hips into his. Your mouth parted in an 'o' of surprise, your gaze lifting to meet his. "Have I been the subject of your thoughts, then?"

Your head dipped in a nod, your fingers brushing against his firm chest, a soft blush coloring your cheeks. "Maybe a little, in a totally platonic boss-employee type of way."

"Oh yeah?"

You caught your lip between your teeth, considering your next words very carefully. "Well, maybe more than a little, and maybe more than just a boss."

"Oh, wow," his breath was a warm hover over your lips, hanging in the space between you. You ached for the tase of him again, rich with dark expresso and spiced cinnamon. It was a lovely combination. "Sounds serious."

You released a hushed giggle, a light note floating between you as your foreheads met. "It's not like I can help it."

"And why is that?"

"Because," you paused, wetting your lips in anticipation, "you're infuriatingly unforgettable, that's why."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"You would."

He was kissing you again. This time a little softer, unhurried, and the whole reason for your argument faded into nothingness. Although if insubordination led to this sweet consequence, it might just become a habit.

His lips traced a path down your throat, prompting your head to tilt back, baring the expanse of your skin to his exploration. Your legs wrapped around his waist, drawing him impossibly close. The world seemed distant, the sensation dreamlike, buoyed by the soft lull of a lust-induced haze.

Reason gave way to impulse; your hands lost in the softness of his hair, your back arching to his hands grasping at your ass, your clothed pussy grinding against his erection.

His hands hesitated, hovering as he reached for your top, his eyes holding yours. "Is this okay?"

You nodded, more eagerly than necessary, but that still wasn't good enough for him.

"I need a verbal yes or no."

Desperation clung to you, a needy sigh escaping you as you squirmed into his touch, his hands halting your restless movements. "Yes, please, Hotch."

"You were so eager to call me Aaron last night. Say it again."

"Aaron, please, I need you to touch me," your voice rang out, imbued with such sweetness making his length constrict against the fabric of his slacks.

His fingers deftly navigated to the hem of your shirt, sliding it over your head with a fluid motion. Your bra was next, its clasp yielding effortlessly to his touch, your tits releasing with a gentle bounce, and he fought back a groan as his large hands enveloped them.

"Every bit as perfect as I remembered," he said, his fingers skillfully pulling and twisting at the nubs as you brought you forehead to meet his, a breathy gasp tumbling from your lips at the contact.

You arched your back into his heads as he let out a soft chuckle, loving the way your body reacting to him. Your eyes held a glazed-over look, lips parted ever so slightly, and you looked up at him expectantly in way that could surely kill him.

His hands moved slowly down your sides before brushing the sensitive skin under your waist band. You swallowed a gasp, moving your hips into his again, rolling yourself against his stiff erection.

His palms pressed against your hips. "Slow down. Let me take my time with you, yeah?"

You were at his discretion; he could ask you to jump into oncoming traffic right now and you'd probably say yes.

A nod was all you could manage as you fought the urge to move, every muscle tensed, waiting for him to make the first move, but god was it hard. You couldn't really believe this was happening, until the solid press of his thumb against your clit brought the moment into sharp focus.

"Aaron, god," you gasped, your hands tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck. Your teeth found your bottom lip harshly, trying not to show him just how easily you could come apart right now.

"Is that good, honey?"

Honey. You could practically feel the arousal dripping your thighs as you nodded eagerly.

The pad of his thumb glided between your folds, gathering the slickness to continue his assault against your swollen clit. You buried your face deeper into his suit jacket, attempting to stifle the embarrassing sounds that you couldn't seem to contain.

A whine of protest filled the space between you as his hand slipped away from your pants. His eyes bore into you as he gathered the strands at the back of your neck, guiding your gaze to yours.

"None of that. Let me hear you gorgeous."

"Aaron, please, I need your fingers inside me, please."

You were painfully aware of how ridiculous you sounded, knew that if anyone else was in the office right now, you'd be so screwed, fired probably, but as his fingers dipped into your cunt those concerns dissolved quickly.

"Since you asked so nicely."

He was torturing you--his pace aggravatingly slow, working in and out of you as you tried to fight the overwhelming desire to slam your legs shut. It was so much, yet not enough. You ground yourself against his hands as his other hand clamped around your back, keeping you from falling back.

"That's it, baby, fuck yourself on my fingers."

His eyes were dark, pupils dilated, his chest rising and falling in a way that only seemed to spur you on, doing exactly as he ordered. His words felt foreign in your ears, before today you could never imagine him talking like this, so vulgarly.

"Aaron, I-I need—," you paused, your eyes falling to his pants, more specifically the hardened cock inside them.

"Yeah? Is that what you want?"

"Yes, fuck, please," you gasped as his fingers hit that one spot just right. Your head lolled back as you clutched at his collar, his arm behind you keeping you in place.

"Watch your mouth," he said, and for some reason that was enough to send you right over that never ending ledge, your stomach coiling, heat spreading under your skin, every part of you ached.

"Oh—, Aaron, I-I'm—," you were a blubbering mess, rocking without mercy against his fingers, his thumb brushing against your nub in a way that made you feel like you had met your maker.

"That's it, baby, go ahead."

That was enough for you, your walls clenching around his fingers, back arching into him and you swore for a minute you could see stars. He helped you ride out your high.

You were wholeheartedly convinced; this was heaven. You had died and gone to heaven and the first one to greet you was Hotch, his hands tracing soothing patterns on your bare skin in an attempt to bring you back down to Earth.

Just as you were about to reach for his pants, determined to feel him inside of you, his phone went off. Of fucking course. He shot you an apologetic look, the sound a wake-up call, pulling you both from the lust-fueled moment.

He moved back with a couple steps, offering nods and muted words to whoever was calling at 12 am. You were suddenly extremely aware of your appearance--topless and on the briefing table for crying out loud.

You attempted to stand, your legs betraying you with a wobble that had him instantly clasping your arm firmly, his attention flickering from the phone to the tremors in your stance. You gave him a small in return as if to say I'm fine.

You reached across the table, grabbing your shirt from its discarded state, not bothering with the bra as you dressed quickly. He cleared his throat, causing you to turn, just in time to see his phone disappear into his pocket.

"That was the Stafford police chief, there was another murder," he explained.

"Oh, right, okay, um..." you started, your brain racing into overdrive as you instinctively moved towards the door. "I just need to..."

Your movement was too quick, a dizzying spin that resulted in you tumbling into Hotch's solid frame. His reflexes were immediate, hands clasping onto you once again, preventing you from landing straight into him.

"Whoa, hey, are you okay?" he asked, brows knitting in a frown, "take a second."

"Yeah, um, yeah, I'm good," you managed to get out, even as heat suffused your face. "Just need to get changed, uh, can't imagine either of us want to the team to find me like this."

"Right."

He was still frowning, and you wanted nothing more than to kiss away the harsh lines of his forehead, but you were sure he wouldn't appreciate the gesture.

You made a beeline for your office, the door's thud barely registering over pulsating rush in your ears. God, you were so screwed.

taglist: @chronicallybubbly @aremuslupinsimp @sky2nd @thisisdaisytrying @ryswritingrecord

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x fem reader #hotch #hotchner #ssa hotchner #aaron hotchner x bau reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner fluff #Spotify

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stsgluver · 5 months

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𝐒𝐍𝐀𝐏𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐏𝐓.𝟑 — gojo satoru

synopsis. nobara is ill and what better way to spend your day off than trying to figure out who your teacher's high school girlfriend is?

wc. 3.5k

tags. gojo x reader, fluff, one suggestive joke, reader is in gojo's class, implied utahime x shoko, only half proofread

a/n. it's nearly midnight and im so tired and I have to be up at 6 tomorrow but I needed to get this done. I hope there's not too many mistakes <3 the ending is kind of shit but idc :) jk i do pls like it

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“are you sure you’ll be okay alone?”

nobara lazily lifted her head from beneath her duvet, orange bangs clinging to her sweaty forehead as she let out a series of harsh coughs. megumi winced from the doorway, inching back ever so slightly - he'd already brought in a couple bottles of water and a box of tissues, he wasn't looking to contract whatever flu-like disease she had caught.

she rolled her eyes at his not-so-subtle antics and raised a weak thumbs up. “go on fushiguro, i know how much you're dying to spend the afternoon with itadori and sensei."

“haha,” megumi uttered with the most sarcastic tone he could muster. on second thoughts, maybe being sick for a week wouldn't be so bad. with nobara gone, there was no buffer for his teacher and classmate to pester. “call me if you get worse, you know the second years are useless.”

nobara gave the younger boy a quick salute and small smile, “yes boss.”

she dropped her head back into her pillow and waited till she heard the door click shut till she slipped a little less than elegantly out of bed. whilst yes, there was no denying that she was definitely sick, she also had a mission she couldn’t give up on.

in the three weeks, four days and an unknown number of hours since she had found the dvd of her teacher in his youth, she had been putting all of her free time into trying to find you. megumi had been a dead end when she’d tried asking him about you again and, although nobara knew he had a soft spot for yuuji, she didn’t trust the pink haired boy to treat this situation sensitively.

initially, she’d even considered asking gojo about it but she decided against that pretty quickly. that could get awkward very quickly and she still had at least two years at the school.

then, she’d moved onto searching through the school for traces of the alumni. all she’d managed to find was a single photo; one that included both kyoto and tokyo students. you were tucked into gojo’s side with your arm around shoko. geto was there too: him and gojo side by side as they always were in their teenage years. all of you were grinning and genuinely happy. where had it all gone so drastically wrong?

nobara wondered if it was geto’s fault that gojo’s class had been all but erased – an effort to forget that the worst curse user to live had in fact once been an aspiring sorcerer.

her next plan (and one she hadn’t full considered the logistics of completely just yet) was to watch every single video on the dvd because surely at some point, there would be some clue of who you were or where you’d gone.

and even if there wasn’t, what else could she possibly do to amuse herself whilst she was on bed rest?

with a huff, she grabbed her laptop and dropped back onto her bed, tucking herself under the covers. opening up her laptop (her password being ‘12345’), she clicked unpause on a video she’d started the evening prior.

“–and that’s it basically.”

shoko waved her hands around, sat on yaga’s chair at the front of the classroom with a blackboard filled with scribbles behind her. it wasn’t anything legible, more like swirls and stars and nobara thinks that, if she looked hard enough, in the corner were two little stick men: gojo and geto. an unlit cigarette sat between her lips as she kicked her legs up onto her teacher’s desk. yaga clearly wasn’t in the room.

“that made no sense whatsoever but woo! shoko!” you clapped, out of frame of the camera but enthusiastically nonetheless. the aforementioned girl narrowed her eyes at you across the classroom.

“that’s why i made a video, for you to look back on duh,” she tsked, nodding her head towards the camera. “plus it is easy. i expected dumb and dumber not to understand but you?” shoko patted away a few non-existent tears, taking on the role of disappointed parent and their once star student.

except you’d never really excelled in a class with two prodigies and shoko actually loved having the upperhand in at least one area of sorcery.

shoko picked up the camera, holding it upwards to give a full view of her outfit and hair – like it was any different to any other day she attended school. she swivelled the spinny chair over to an occupied desk, slotting next to it and moving the camera so that it captured all of you in the frame. gojo was sat down in the seat, glasses propped up onto his forehead as you sat sideways on his lap, unsuccessfully trying to decipher shoko’s teachings on the board.

“understanding reversed cursed techniques is way harder than understanding cursed techniques,” you tried to justify, pointing to the board that showed the squiggles that ‘symbolised’ performing a reversed curse technique. stealing gojo’s glasses and popping them on your own face, you popped a quick kiss to the side of his head, “plus, why waste my energy? you’ll figure it out so i never have to.”

“the things i do for you,” gojo sighed happily, dropping his head down onto your shoulder as his arms looped around your waist. the orange-haired sorcerer could practically hear yuuji’s gasps at the simple displays of affection and she almost felt bad for watching some of the clips without him.

almost.

nobara was never one for romance – drama, such as the fight between gojo and naoya, that was her scene. but even she couldn’t help herself from smiling at the teenage love between the two of you. maybe she should give her teacher more credit – there was more to the six foot two man than just his over the top personality and questionable teaching methods.

“this is meant to be an educational video! be less couple-y!” shoko complained, scowling and shuffling away on her chair again.

“oh, we could make it very educational,” gojo wiggled his eyebrows, the devious smirk on his lips only widening at your flushed expression as you tried to hit his chest. failing, though, as he isolated his cursed technique to uphold a thin barrier between your hand and the material of his uniform.

there was the teacher she knew – keen to annoy even those he loved the most.

shoko must’ve ended the video out of spite after his comment, because nobara found herself staring at a black screen.

all that she’d learnt so far was that you couldn’t perform a reverse cursed technique as a teenager. maybe that was what killed you? if you were even dead, that is. but given the damage that curses can inflict on sorcerers, whether or not you were able to execute a reversed cursed technique could literally be the difference between walking away from a fight a little tired or in a body bag.

nobara coughed several times, picking up the open bottle of water from her bedside table and taking a sip to try and ease her scratchy throat. scrunching up her nose at the slight sting of swallowing, she clicked the next available video, not putting much thought into her choice.

it was you and nanami in frame in a library by the looks of it but if it was on campus, nobara didn’t know where. christmas decorations decorated the shelving units behind you – tinsels of gold, red and green, and hanging snowflakes. you were both wearing your usual uniform but you also had a santa hat on and tinsel lining your jacket.

“we’re the only two on campus,” you said quietly, “because everyone else’s parents loved them–”

“we couldn’t afford to go back for the holidays,” nanami cut you off, without glancing up from what he was writing. being from two non-sorcerer families was a disadvantage normally in terms of status and inherited techniques, but holidays were somehow worse.

gojo had offered to help you out with a ticket back to your parents and had even extended an invitation for you to stay with him but you didn’t want to leave nanami alone (and although he didn’t seem grateful, he was glad you were there).

“it’s fine. academic comeback time,” you held up a book to the screen. being in a class with three exceptional sorcerers meant that studies were often sidelined to try and improve and perfect your techniques. holidays were usually your opportunity to catch up on the missed classwork and homework you’d fallen behind on.

nanami less so – if anything he was reading ahead. tokyo had never been renowned for academic scores until he’d come along.

“i don’t get why the camera needs to be here,” nanami complained.

“to record us study! it’s motivational.”

“sure,” nanami hummed quietly, reading over your shoulder at the work you’d already completed prior to setting up the camera. “that’s wrong. this is simple mutipli–” he paused at the sound of rustling and his brows furrowed as he tried to peer round the bookshelves.

“merry christmas!”

nobara snickered as nanami jumped at the sudden voice and appearance of three people behind him. gojo and geto were capable of masking their cursed energy (and shoko’s) so that they wouldn’t be noticed slipping into the library. although gojo had nearly screwed that up by pulling out a chair trying to trip up geto.

“ieiri!” you slipped out from your seat, running up and hugging your classmate. in the process, the camera got knocked so it was facing the ceiling. nobara frowned as she turned the brightness up on her laptop as if though that would somehow bring everyone back into grame. in the periphery of the screen she could make out just the heads and foreheads of the student sorcerers.

“hi satoru, missed you too satoru, so glad you came to see me satoru,” the white haired sorcerer pouted at the lack of attention and nobara is sure someone responded to him but the audio is muffled by two voices closer to the camera’s microphone.

“here!” haibara slipped into the seat next to nanami that you had occupied moments prior and held up a small wrapped box with red ribbon tied neatly in a bow. “i picked it up on the way. merry christmas nanamin!”

“thanks yu,” nanami smiled softly at his classmate. well that’s what nobara thought he did anyways, his eyes lifted into half crescents but she wasn’t actually sure what his mouth was doing out of frame. she’d never seen the blond so happy from a simple gesture.

she clicked off the video even though it still had thirty seconds left to go. it wasn’t much fun just watching people’s foreheads and she highly doubted that nanami was about to fix the camera’s position.

so you were from a non-sorcerer family and possibly not able to use reverse cursed technique. it wasn’t much but facts were still facts.

there was a little more deliberation before she chose her next video, settling herself back into her cushions as she waited for it to load.

the screen was suddenly very bright and nobara winced, turning it down as the surroundings came into focus. it was the inside of an arcade and the camera was pointed directly at one of those claw machines. inside were different sized plushies of spiderman and haibara was the one controlling the claw.

nobara could vaguely make out everyone’s reflection in the glass – to the left of haibara was geto (who was also the one holding onto the camera), gojo and you, and to his right was shoko, nanami and maybe also utahime? shoko had her arm around a blue haired girl either way.

“no! so close haibara,” you patted the youngest boy on the shoulder gently as the plushie he’d managed to pick up slipped from the claw’s clutches before it could be dropped down the chute and retrieved.

“can i try?” gojo asked and, from the annoyed groans, nobara assumed it wasn’t the first time he’d interjected.

“no, he’ll get it this time,” geto encouraged and gojo flashed him a look of disbelief.

“if gojo wants a go he can have it!” haibara tried to step away from the machine but nanami halted him, slotting several more coins in the machine.

“take your go yu.”

“i’ll get you a slushie if you win,” shoko called out, clapping her hands together as he accepted his fate, hesitantly pressing down on the buttons as he peered through the side of the machine to get a better angle.

“haibara, haibara.” all of them were chanting his name now, and that was enough of a boost for him to finally get one of the plushies over the barrier and down the chute. the camera shook unsteadily as geto jumped and six of them crowded the youngest in a joint hug.

nobara could see yuuji in haibara and megumi in nanami and herself in shoko and she had to stop herself from tearing up. nanami and shoko seemed like strangers these days and she couldn’t even imagine waking up and yuuji not being the first one to greet her outside her room.

we’ve got a mission here, she reminded herself, shaking her head lightly before moving onto the next clip.

“utahime, say hi,” you lowered the camera to the kyoto sorcerer’s height. she was sat cross-legged on the floor with a jacket flung haphazardly over her head to try and block out the sun that beamed down.

“hi!” utahime waved, smiling as you dropped down next to her. in her hands was a partially made daisy chain that she’d started to entertain herself whilst she waited for the tokyo students. despite being in kyoto, she’d always chosen to join yourself and shoko at events over her own classmates.

“who do you think is going to win the exchange event this year?” you asked with a raised brow and utahime grimaced.

“don’t make me compliment him.”

“are you implying that our edge is not because of me?” you looked at the camera with a disgusted expression, like you had the power to outshine the gojo satoru, she rolled her eyes – gojo’s dramatics were rubbing off on you. “for that i’m telling ieiri. you may be her girlfriend–”

utahime hit your arm and her eyes darted around for anyone that could’ve heard (like you were not sat alone in a field together whilst the others warmed up), “shut up! we’re not like that…”

you nodded with a condescending hum. “then kindly could you please stop calling her till three in the morning, some of us need our beauty sleep.”

“you’re only ever up at three am because you’re sneaking back from gojo’s dorm,” she retorted with a pointed look. you opened your mouth to defend yourself

“true,” you jumped at shoko’s voice, swivelling your neck around to find the third piece of your trio standing behind you. shoko gestured towards your uniform jacket, “and if she pulls down her collar there’s a massive hickey i had to help cover up this morning.”

utahime erupted into a fit of giggles and you eyed the camera like it was some sitcom and you were breaking the fourth wall.

“you’re such an asshole.”

shoko pushed in between the two of you to make herself the middle. “you love me.”

nobara frowned as the video ended. while it wasn’t overly helpful, it reaffirmed the seriousness of your relationship with her teacher… but that was obvious from the lovesick heart eyes he constantly had in every video you were together.

although, she would have to show it to maki – the two had suspicions about the kyoto teacher and tokyo healer and this all but confirmed that they were right.

nobara scrolled down till she found a thumbnail of you, geto and gojo sat around a table of food.

“zenin naoya,” you started, chopsticks in one hand as you held a bowl of food in the other. gojo pretended to vomit at the mention of his name. “yes toru, appropriate response, but have you heard about him and the kamo girl?”

geto nodded with a mouth full. “the one who studied abroad?”

“yes! her,” you waved your chopsticks in his direction, “anyways, she cheated on him.”

the dark haired sorcerer made a sound of shock, “they were together together?”

you nodded enthusiastically, offering gojo some of your rice. “mhmm, they got together new years eve.”

“that did not last long,” gojo snickered. nobara peered at the date in the corner of the screen in a retro, yellow font; 15 january 2006.

“best part? it’s not even the first time,” you revealed, picking up some salmon sushi off of gojo’s plate and quickly eating it.

“stop,” geto gasped and nobara was shocked. this man was a war criminal now, and yet ten years ago he seemed so far from it, gossiping like he was a teenage girl.

“which like i don’t get,” you frowned. “i dont know why he’s trying to save face over some two week old relationship. especially if she’s already cheated multiple times.”

“he’s just desperate because it’s the first girl to ever want to actually be with him.”

“oh yeah she really wants to be with him,” gojo uttered sarcastically with a sparkle in his eyes. he would have a party at the downfall of the zenin.

“are they staying together?”

“i think so,” you nodded, holding a hand over your mouth as you spoke and finished your mouthful. “it’s what me and shoko told him to do, well shoko. he facetimed shoko.” you clarified following gojo’s less than pleased expression. nobara didn’t doubt that naoya had caused some tension in your relationship (though she refused to believe it was ever because you had been interested in him) and she wished that you’d switch the topic solely onto that. that was the sort of drama she was after.

“youre telling me he facetimed ieiri to tell her he’d been cheated on?” geto could bearly finish the question without laughing and he shot gojo a look. “odds on him trying to make yn jealous.”

you couldn’t stop yourself from snorting. “oh yeah because hearing all that made me want to leave satoru for that thing.” sarcasm or not, your words were taken literally by your boyfriend who draped all one hundred and ninety centimetres of himself across your body. “oh my god you’re so heavy.”

“it’s just my love for you in physical form. don’t be mean,” he whined.

nobara didn’t even have the energy to laugh quietly at the pathetic nature of her teacher as she felt herself drifting off. it was fine, she thought, only a quick power nap. she’d earned it, watching all those clips expended lots of energy.

“kugisaki?” gojo gently knocked at the young girl’s door. he’d left yuuji and megumi to do laps to check nobara was still alive and well. the illness had made its way through half the school already and while it obviously wasn’t something fatal, he knew better than to take any risks.

he knocked again and waited thirty seconds before he opened the door enough just to peek in and–

“satoru.”

gojo felt his heart drop at the sound of your voice. one he hadn’t heard in almost two years and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so unsteady and thrown off guard. the mere sound of your voice had startled him and gotten more of an upper hand than any curse he’d ever had to exorcise.

although his world had stilled, reality continued on and he was forced to hear himself hum in response. he didn’t have to see the video to vividly remember the day, to remember the smell of the grass and your perfume that were coaxing him into a nap that would make you both late to yaga’s lecture.

“do you think we’ll still be together once high school is over?”

“hope so,” he murmured, half asleep, and gojo wished his younger self was more aware, telling you how much he wanted to be with you, savouring every second he had in your presence rather than sleeping it away.

like that could’ve changed the outcome.

slipping into her room, gojo lifted the laptop off of her sleeping figure (definitely still alive and breathing). with a press of a button, the disk popped out and he set the device onto the ground as he contemplated what to do.

he could break it in half, make it seem like an accident that nobara hadn’t noticed in her ill state. or he could use his cursed technique and completely eviscerate it from existence.

or maybe he could keep it.

gojo gave nobara one last glance as he silently closed her door once more, grateful for the blindfold he wore as he headed back outside to his students.

taglist. @thefictionalcharacterssimp @hana-patata @mor-pheus @leathairs @sh0ek0 @maliakealoha @levisteeacup @g-kleran @stevenknightmarc @n1kimura @darliingyu @saturn-alone @splxtscreen @leah-rose03 @rinshoe @laurenzitaa @patricia142lilian @sabo-has-my-heart @wooasecret @dahliawarner @kysrion @dreamerdeity @mwah-chia @geromiegerald @arminsarlerts @maliakealoha @cherrypieyourface @k4romis @monsieurgucchi @bofadeezs @777userz @polarbvnny @chonkercatto @tenshis-cake @haitanibros0007 @ba-ks @liaurokodaki @urfavvirg0 @lofasofabread @r0ckst4rjk @vee-ai @aiikuraa @melileli0001 @rinshoe @vinivave @yell0wdreams @sukunasleftkneecap @malikazz243 @sad-darksoul @giannitaa @maliciousmace @name-insert @splxtscreen

this tag list is insane ty all for the support

#snapshot #gojo x reader #gojo #gojo satoru #gojo fluff #gojo drabbles #gojo fic #gojo x you #jjk #jjk fluff

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ryndicate · 1 year

Text

Double Down ⨳ Yoshida, Denji

“Didn’t know you were into that stuff.”

warnings: fem body/pronouns, nudes posted without permission, drug use, exhibition, creampie, videos taken with permission, stepcest, infidelity, masturbation, handjob, some spit mentions, premature ejac, implied fuckery, implied theft, if there's more i am just too wacked out to see it so lemme know!

event: @bastardblvd 's slimeball alley collab !! my first submission of who knows how many to come, im gonna try to not go crazy with it, promise

notes: didn't realize until it was done that I could've made it much more slimy but its okay. We'll get 'em next time babes 😩 this idea is expanding on a little blurb I put in cassie's inbox once, i included it in the fic itself with some itty bitty changes

By expanding, you are consenting to viewing adult/dark content, and all warnings listed above. 18+ Minors DNI

Blog Rules/DNI

Your fist slams on the bathroom door. “I swear to god, Denji! Where the fuck did you get those! Delete them now!”

“I already told you, Power found them online!” Your stepbrother yells back through the door, keeping his weight against the handle so that you can’t force your way in.

“You’re full of shit you fucking perv! You took them off my phone or something.”

“Wanna fucking bet? The real perv is that prettyboy bastard you call baby,” Denji sneers back, yelping as you get a good shove in on the creaking wood.

Your efforts to break the bathroom door pause. “The hell’re you talking about?”

“I told you he was trouble the day you two met. What—you think I was lying?”

You growl under your breath at the barenecked taunt in Denji’s voice. Yeah he told you, one time before he got high out of his mind. The only reason you even met Yoshida Hirofumi was because he hooked your stepbrother up a couple times, and you begged to tag along once. That situation ended with your brother counting stars on his buddy’s ceiling while you saw them on the backs of your eyelids with the guy’s lips wrapped around your clit.

One thing led to another, and that “prettyboy bastard” became your boyfriend. He’s a bit of an ass, but Yoshida’s also sweet and funny, doesn’t roll his eyes at your music choices, doesn’t bat an eye when you want to go out with your friends, and is full of sexy, smirky sass that makes him so fun to be around. Sure, you sent him some photos, but he wouldn’t have put them out anywhere.

Your anger deflates, but your indignance does not. You step away from the bathroom door. “He’s got nothing to do with this.”

Denji throws the door open with a toothy grin, repeating himself. “You wanna bet?”

“You know what, yeah!” you snap at him, crossing your arms as he leans in the doorway, still looking smug.

“Your boyfriend put your pics up on OnlyFans, and he’s using the money to pay for his xanny. If I’m right, you two gotta upload a video. Together,” Denji states, his eyebrows furrowed in twisted delight that makes you sneer at him.

“You’re disgusting!”

“Yeah? Tell me what you get if you win.”

Caught up in his childish bullshit, you push at his shoulder. “You gotta start an OnlyFans if you’re wrong, which you are. And you gotta wear lingerie.”

His smirk full drops at that, and he glares at you, cheeks darkerning. “Now who’s a perv.”

“This whole shit was your idea!”

“Lingerie?”

“How is wearing lingerie worse than telling your stepsister to fuck and post a video about it?!”

“Shut up!”

“And since we’re on the topic, I swear to god if you don’t stop taking my shit out of the laundry I’m gonna tell that redheaded lady at the DMV that she’s at the very top of your fap list.”

His blush deepens and he palms your face backwards in a light push. “The fuck she is. Shut up.”

“Yeah well, me and the thin fucking walls in this apartment would have to disagree.”

“Go find your boyfriend.”

“‘M gonna.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck him,” you hiss in barely supressed rage, gripping your boyfriend’s phone so tight you’re disappointed when it doesn’t crack.

You’d waited for his high to hit him and let him drift off before going through his phone—what’s the point of asking him outright if it’s not true, right? No reason to stir the pot. But your stomach had dropped with unease when the account site was in his search history; you tried to brush it off as maybe he gets off to a set of camgirls, but the moment you saw the login info presaved—as in frequent entry—you began to forget the bet altogether.

Now your jaw is clenched, seething as you scroll through every racy picture you ever sent him. Each have thousands of views, hundreds of comments and jeez—so many subscribers. The heat of betrayal simmers through you. Your jaw drops at the total that’s set to drop into his account at the end of the week and resist the urge to slap Yoshida awake, but instead you set about trying to change the banking and login info, only to get halted by an infowall. Frustrated, you slip off the bed and call your stepbrother, edging into Yoshida’s bathroom so you don’t wake him up.

“You were right, and you fucking knew it, didn’t you? You set me up.” you hiss into the device as soon as he picks up with a mumbled ‘sup. You can hear voices and music in the background, paired with light explosions. You assume he’s out with his friends, probably gaming like usual.

“You didn’t have to agree. Wait—” there’s the sound of the phone moving around and suddenly the music is gone. “Does that mean you’re gonna do it?”

“That’s besides the point, Denji!”

“Oh fuck, you are!”

“Chill your boner,” you snap, “‘m not gonna do it unless you help me!”

“Help you? What, like you want me to hold the camera or something?”

“Denji, I swear to god—”

“I’m kidding, jeez.”

“I can’t change the account info. They’re my pictures, and they’re already out there! He shouldn’t get to make money off of me.”

“Wait, so you want to keep the account?” He asks curiously. You hear a door slamming and wonder if he’s still moving, or if his friends are.

“Dude, we’ll have rent and anything else covered for the whole month with a single week’s drop from this thing. I don’t see a reason not to. I can quit Mcdonald’s!”

“Shit, for real? Lemme talk to Denki, ‘m pretty sure he knows a guy.”

“Thank you,” you coo into the phone.

“Yeah, yeah, just make sure you pay up.” You can hear his pervy smile, and you grumble a sulky fine at him.

“Ok. But he’s gotta do it soon. It pays out in a couple of days.”

“I’ll give him some cash to see if he can do it tonight. Don’t see why he’d say no—" Denji sounds a lot further away from the phone now, "—Oi! Don't bro! Give it back."

A familiar voice purrs into the receiver and you roll your eyes. "Heyyy, princess. You with that Yoshida guy still or are we allowed to hang now?"

"Byeee, Kiri. Tell Kat hi f'me." You hang up with a smile and leave the bathroom, glaring at your supposed boyfriend still sleeping. You never heard him say he was working and you always kinda wondered where he was getting his cash, but you always just thought he was dealing or something. Not the kind of think you ask about. You obviously should’ve asked.

You crawl into his lap and begin sucking on his exposed throat, admiring the sharp lines, the bob of his adam’s apple as thick lashes flutter open.

“Mmm,” Yoshida moans. “Damn, was I out long?”

“Nah,” you hum, slipping your fingers up his shirt, smoothing over his waistline. “Got bored without you, that’s all.”

“Yeah, baby?” He grins up at you, dark eyes fuzzed out and sultry, and his hands come up to settle on your hips, easing you into a slow grind. “Wanna do something?”

“Mm. Maybe,” you tease softly, pushing his shirt up his chest and leaning down to wrap your lips around his nipples. He groans at the warm, slick suction, arching into your touch.

“Fuck, baby,” he breathes out, his cock swelling beneath you.

“Maybe I wanna do something…different.”

Yoshida grins up at you, half-lidded. “Yeah? Like what?”

Your nails make pink lines down his chest as you lean in to whisper in his ear. “What if you fucked me, and we let some people watch?”

His fingers dig into the fat of your waist, his dick thumping beneath you. “Anyone I know?”

Yoshida’s pupils have overtaken his coal irises, and you give him an inviting smile. “No one specific. I was thinking more like…a video or something. I wanna be able to see it later.”

“Holy fuck, baby. That’s sexy,” Yoshida grins up at you. “Didn’t know you were into that stuff.”

“Me either,” you breath softly, rocking yourself over his covered erection.

You’re left to yelp as he displaces you from your seat on his lap and pulls you out of the bed by your wrist with a wide smirk. “Come on.”

“Wait, where are we going?”

“Don’t worry baby, I just wanna pick something up at the Malmart first.”

“Fine, I guess,” you pout at him and his smirk only grows.

“‘S okay, baby. I’ll give you something too.”

“This is not what I meant when I said video, Hirofumi!” you gasp out. Your fingers are splayed out on the hood of his car as you try to stay upright. “Someone could actually see us!”

"If you don't wanna be seen, you gotta cum. Cause I'm not stopping til you cum."

"Fuck, fuck please, just hurry up!" You plead, half your words caught between whines and whimpers as he pounds into you from behind, your skirt flipped over your back.

"You think I'm not fucking you like I mean it?" There's so much smile in his voice that you want to call him on his bullshit for once, but the solid smacking of his hips into yours, the head of his dick pressing as deep as it can go with every thrust quickly makes you forget what you're snapping at him for.

"Just‐just, fucking make cum– ‘fumi!" You're desperately telling yourself you don't want to be seen. It's the middle of the night, so even here, parked under the one of the many lightposts that don’t work in grimetown's 24-hour walmart parking lot, the risk of anyone seeing is slim.

But not zero. Especially with the light from his phone camera shining down on your exposed lower half. You’re like a slutty beacon for whoever might be looking this way.

"I'm working on it baby, you gotta relax." His fingers slide around your waist, brushing past your clit and forcing a frustrated whimper past your lips at the neglect, to drag them through the slick dripping obscenely from your pussy lips. It's dripping to the rusted black hood, making it glisten. He aims the camera down at them before moving it back to the way your pussy clings to his cock. "You're so fucking wet for this, you'd think the whole thing was your idea. Well, most of it was."

You don't answer him, trying to work yourself back on him, chasing that fluttering heat twisting itself tighter and tigher with each passing second.

"Good girl, look at you. Fuck, look how bad you want—"

"Oi! Get the fuck out of here before I—"

Your whole body locks up at the tired but authoritative voice that rings across the lot.

Your boyfriend calls back. "C'mon man, have a heart. Let me finish her off and I'll give you a look." Except his last syllable staggers off with a groan, broken with a laugh as his grip on your hips tightens to a bruising pressure. The vice grip of your cunt has him looking down to sees your juices gush around the girth of his cock, dripping down your thighs to dirty the hood of his car even more. The sight pushes pushes him over and he calls out again, his voice tight but smug.

"Nevermind, we're done here."

He gets one last shot of his cum dripping out of you before closing out the livefeed.

“It’s like four in the morning,” Denji grumbles, rubbing one of his eyes as he cracks his bedroom open further at the sight of you. “Thought you were Power or somethin’, jeez.”

Denji blinks the blur from his eyes, zeroing in on your screen, and you just about hear his pupils expanding. He pulls a shaky inhale and you roll your eyes.

“Done. Bet over, and here’s your damn proof,” you grumble right back, slamming your phone against his chest and shoving your way into his bedroom to flop down into his bed. It had taken over an hour to convince Yoshida back to his place and get him to fool around enough for him to pass out and you to sneak back home.

"Also Kiri wants you to call him back. He's mad you hung up on him."

A small grin curls your lips but you don't respond, wiggling deeper into his mattress until you're comfortable.

He throws himself down in the bed next to you. “Turn on my speakers.”

“Or you could just wear headphones, you freak.”

“Nah. Turn ‘em on.”

With an exaggerated sigh, you stretch out to reach up to his desk, turning on the bluetooth speakers that he usually uses to be a nuisance when he’s smoking. “If your dad was home, I’d kill you for this.”

“You’re not even breaking up with him, are you?” Denji chortles, ignoring your bickering. His eyes are glued to the screen as he shoves a hand into his loosened shorts. “What the fuck, you guys were outside?”

You shrug. The video’s only been up for a couple hours and it already has triple the views and donations of all the photos Yoshida has put up so far. “Looks like he’s gonna be making me lots of money, so why not? It’s the least he could do to pay me back.”

Your stepbrother doesn’t answer you, his breathing getting heavier. You close your eyes and sigh as the sounds wet sounds and your own whiny moaning starts bouncing off the walls of his room, wondering to yourself if you really sound like that or if part of you was exaggerating because of the camera. The mattress creaks every now and then as his hips jump, his arm brushing your side as he grinds into his own fist.

You roll to face him, taking in the sound of his stuttered breaths, the muted slick sound of his fist pumping in his shorts. “So what about this gets you so riled up?”

Denji groans, stomach rippling where his shirt is pulled up around his midsection. “I’nno, it’s hot, isn’t it?”

You keep prodding, “What is? Yoshida? Or me?”

He gives a small whine that has your pulse picking up in sick interest, so you continue. “Was Power really the one to find it? Or…you were subbed to the account, weren’t you Denji?”

“Mm- maybe?”

“Shit,” you whisper to yourself, listening to your own voice begging to cum, shifting your weight onto your arm so you can look at him. A strange curiosity has taken over your body. He looks wrecked but his eyes are still on the screen. “Denji, look at me.”

Your body tingles as his eyes tear towards you, but he’s still got a hand around himself, hidden from your eyes. “Can I touch it?”

“You wanna what?” he moans, just barely, teeth digging into his lip.

“Can I jerk you off?”

You’re a little surprised when he actually hesitates. You’ve tolerated it all this time; as much as he pervs out on you, and your stuff, yet somehow he’s got a little crumb of morality left in there somewhere. And right now…you wanna kill it.

“My panties, my pictures…is this really any different?” you ask softly, sweetly, as you run with this electric current, placing your hand over his covered groin. You grin as his hand immediately goes slack at your touch and slips out of his shorts, and you get to feel for the first time how hard he is, rubbing over the smooth fabric, feeling out the shape of him.

“I mean…I guess not.” He sucks in a breath as you grip him over his shorts and give a couple experimental strokes. “B-but what about—?”

Denji’s head drops back to the pillows with a groan, phone in a death grip as you tug his waistband down, his dick slapping free. It’s pretty and slender, flushed deep red.

“What about what?”

“What about prettyboy, huh?” He finally gets it out as you spit in your hand and take him up again, stroking him steadily from base to tip, squeezing at the top with a gentle twist of your wrist. Yoshida always seemed to like it, seems like he does too.

“That’s what you’re worried about? Not the whole stepsister thing?” You shrug. You’re still stung about Yoshida’s betrayal, so this feels like a little bit of retribution. A little bit. You still need to find more ways to make him pay first, but this is a good start. “Yeah, he’s my boyfriend, but ‘s not like you and me are dating, Denji. It’s a handjob. What’re you gonna do, marry me?”

Denji splutters and his dick throbs in your hand. “Don- Don’t say stupid shit!”

You coo at him and his lips part, panting hard as you work him faster.

“What– haa, what if it wasn’t just a handjob? What then?” Denji gives a low moan as you settle over his lower thighs so you can gently cup his balls. They seem to tighten under your touch, before he relaxes and he tries to look at you.

“What, like my mouth or something?” you ask playfully, leaning over and showing him your tongue, letting a strand of spit drip down to his dick.

A litany of curses tumblr from his mouth as Denji squeezes his eyes shut, fingers twisting into the pillow beneath his head as his cock jerks and shoots a load of hot sticky white into your palm, getting smeared down his throbbing shaft as you slowly work him through his high until only a couple dribbles get pressed out by a final pass of your thumb over his slit.

“Wasn’t expecting you to finish already.” You wipe your hand off on his comforter and try to ignore the throbbing in your panties. You feel like you can still imagine the slick from earlier tonight seeping out of you, but it’s as if it’s no longer enough.

“Holy fuck,” he mumbles under his breath, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes as he calms his breathing enough to raise himself up on his forearms. He watches you as you take your phone and flop down next to him. “I didn’t even get to see the rest of the video.”

“It’s online now, freak. You can watch it whenever.”

“Yeah...”

You’re too busy trying to go through the account settings to notice the way he’s eyeing up your thighs; he hasn’t even put his dick away yet.

“Hey,” he mutters softly, ignoring your glare when he puts a hand on your thighs and pulls them open. “If you can touch me, does that mean I get to touch you?”

Your pulse jumps and you try to keep your true thoughts hidden as you hide back behind your phone. “I guess that’s fair. If you wanted to.”

You can hear the click of Denji’s throat as he swallows, and you can’t stop the low whimper as his calloused fingers brush your inner thigh, right at the edge of your panties.

They’re warm as they brush over the seat of your panties, timid but curious as they explore the surface, stroking over the tempting warmth and wet seeping through the thin fabric. A bolt of pleasure bursts and has your gut clenching as he swirls over your clothed clit

“H-hey, wait,” you say suddenly, nerves getting the better of you as you try to make sense of Denji taking control of your body. “It got switch but this isn’t my banking info. Is it yours?” You flip the screen towards him, and his brown eyes squint in the pale blue light.

“Uh, nah, that’s not mine.”

You mewl as he pulls your panties to the side and traces a finger through your folds, delicate, hungry. “Who did you say– mm, h-hacked the account for me?”

“I told you. M’friend Denki, his buddy did it. That purple-haired guy who works at the smoke shop.”

“The one wi—” you suck in a breath as he sinks his index finger into you. “With the tattoos?”

“Yeah him,” Denji mumbles, hardly paying attention to your words. He’s grinding against the bed as he pushes his middle in alongside it, imagining the tight squeeze around his dick instead.

Your groan is part pleasure, part dismay as you realize just who he’s talking about. “Oh fuck me.”

Denji bullies his way between your thighs in an instant.

“N-no, Den– that’s not what I meant!”

#csm x reader #yoshida x reader #denji x reader #yoshida hirofumi x reader #denji smut #yoshida smut #csm smut #chainsaw man smut #chainsaw man x reader #tw::stepcest

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cinnamonest · 1 month

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Hiii I absolutely adore your work!! You're legit my favorite fic writer, every word you put down is gospel amen 🙏 If youre still doing requests, maybe what about albedo x tall reader? I love how you write him so much, im 6ft tall myself and am fiending for yan stuff for tall girls since tall women are always written to be strong and dominant which kills me inside since im the total opposite...

Luckily he's not really insecure about it or anything, not like one of those people who gets all neurotic and has a complex. It's just. You know. He wouldn't mind getting a bit taller, is all. But if he ever starts getting too hung up over it, the feeling then loops back to feeling embarrassed over being insecure over something like that, so he tries to just ignore any feelings on it entirely.

He does handle your greater stature than himself better than some other, more insecure short boys, though. So long as you don’t bring the matter up, he won’t either. He genuinely doesn’t care about having others poke fun at him, which some of the knights he works with certainly do, given that it’s not everyday you see a guy with a girlfriend so much taller than himself, but he has very little regard for the opinions of those he doesn’t care much about and is thus largely unaffected.

He does, however, care what you think. He’s the sort of person who buries any insecurities he may have and ensures he never brings them up or makes them known, but he does worry just a bit that you wish he was taller, that it compromises the respect you have for him, or worse, that you’ll get wandering eyes… he feels sick to his stomach if he sees you talking to some tall guy, even more so than the sickness he already feels seeing you talk to anyone.

And even if you tease him about the matter, he handles that very well, albeit with a twitching to his smile that you may notice if you look carefully. He wants to give off the impression that it doesn’t bother him, even if it kinda does, just a little.

This also ends up accelerating his obsessive tendencies, the insecurity gets to him and he acts more impulsively and more recklessly than he would normally, and you’ll find that the situation between you escalates much faster to the point of captivity.

Regardless, you have no need to worry. The man does not have a submissive bone in his body… unnaturally so, even.

Like you know how, as a general rule, most men tend to lean towards dominant tendencies and aren’t really submissive per se, but are still gonna salivate and get into it if you “take charge”?

He’s not even like that. The notion of you having any sort of control or autonomy in the matter sort of… bothers him. He’s too obsessively fixated on control, and uses sex as a catharsis by which having control and seeing that control actively exerted on you brings him satisfaction and comfort and assurance, so any bit of said control being taken away gets under his skin fast.

Enthusiasm would be a pleasant surprise, sure, he likes you participating, but any time you attempt to actively control the steps and movement, or gods forbid try to push him to do or move in the way you want, he gets a little… twitchy. He’s not one to vocalize his thoughts too much, but you notice pretty much immediately, you can tell it irks him that you’re moving too much on your own, based on the firm grabs to your sides and wrists and efforts to quietly contort your body the way he wants you to, and a heavy huff of frustration when you fail to comply or try to go back to the position you were in before. It feels wrong, you should be bending and moving to the way his hands and words guide you, and failure to abide by it only strengthens the intensity of the impulse to force you under it by any means necessary.

Should you be a particularly bratty type, you can use this to your advantage by intentionally continuously breaking out of his hold or pushing back against the way he tries to push you into certain positions and outright disobeying… but that’s one of those “playing with fire” type of behaviors, and it stops being so amusing when he’s got you on your knees, held up by a fistful of hair, looming over you with an ominous, icy stare… and you may find yourself regretting your defiance, and up may be the only direction you get to look at him from now on.

#.al #q

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somber-sapphic · 1 year

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AheM 🌸 Im a secret lover for hugs so I’ll gladly accept and reciprocate :) and yep sorry I just fuLLy fully read the whole post :’) that definitely goes out to them and you and whoever gets unnecessary stupid hate. Heheh well if you don’t mind I’ll ask for something under this and it’s more than okay if you took like months just take ur time🤭 naw I’m sorry you didn’t have a great day, that’s really shit, but I’m super happy you feel better and hopefully today and tomorrow is a better day! And remember I’ve got two shoulders in case and anytime🫡💪 how’d you know? I’m like always dehydrated, dehydration is scared of me ahaha. But hey most if the time it’s always the people giving advice aren’t following it… so you better be drinking plenty of water too!! And as for the request, would it be possible to ask for a WandaNat with like pregnant reader or reader already recovering from a bad injury with prompts like ‘Ill timed’ and ‘ it’s nothing’🫣 if not that’s okay but ily thank you thank you your amazing eat drink SLEEP, take care of yourself please :)) <3

Are You Staying

⧽ Notes: Hi! So, I don't write anything for pregnant anyone, but here's a sick and hurt reader for you!

⧽Summary: Reader is injured badly after a mission, leaving them with an infection.

⧽Word Count: 1665

〔 Masterlists 〕

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You were so, so tired of laying in bed, but your girlfriends wouldn’t let you get up. Apparently, when you ignore an injury for so long that the infection turns into sepsis you are no longer allowed to make decisions for yourself. Who knew?

Well, there you were, laying in bed, struggling to focus on the book that you were holding in slightly trembling hands. The large gash along your side was beginning to throb again, indicating that you needed another dose of pain medicine, but it made you groggy and you didn't like it.

You were already feeling sort of fuzzy, your mind blurring in and out. Your head ached and you were starting to wonder if this was more than just the damn lingering infection. Bruce had finally taken you off the IV antibiotics but you were warned that it was vital for you to take the oral ones on a strict schedule to ensure that you didn’t get worse again.

You rubbed your throat gently and cleared it, trying to get rid of the tickle that had taken up residence there in the past hour or so. It was when the first sneeze came that you finally connected the dots.

The pain in your sinuses, the slightly runny nose that had required you to wipe it every few minutes, the inability to get warm, the overwhelming feeling of fatigue. It wasn't the infection. You had a cold. You had a damn cold. Of all things, you had gotten yourself sick. Your girlfriends were going to kill you.

Deciding that it was probably best to keep them out of the loop, you put the book aside and curled up under the blankets in a last-ditch effort to sleep the bug off. Maybe if you’d noticed earlier you would’ve had time to get ahead of it, but for now, you would at least sleep. Putting off rest had probably not helped the situation. Fuck. This was going to be a very long few days.

When you woke you were incredibly disoriented. The pain in your side was so bad you felt like you wanted to throw up and for some reason, you couldn’t move. This was wrong, this was not okay.

You managed to sit up with a lot of effort but your head was spinning, the room tilting around you in a way that made you wonder if you should call your girlfriends. They probably wouldn’t mind, they weren’t doing anything important, they just had a lot of busy work to do. You were also supposed to be doing busy work if you felt up to it, but there was absolutely no way you could read, much less hold a pen.

A harsh fit of coughing wracked your body, your lungs burning in agony as your side screamed at you that you needed to stop, that you needed to sit still and never move again, but you couldn’t stop coughing.

You doubled over despite the protest of your body and hacked until you finally managed to cough up a glob of something green and absolutely disgusting. You leaned over the side of the bed and spit into the trashcan with an agonized groan.

No matter how hard you tried you couldn’t get a full breath of air into your lungs. Everything hurt, everything was miserable, and the world was definitely ending. Tears rolled down your cheeks which you were sure were flushed with fever and you were regretting not taking the pain medication earlier. Now you were in too much pain to get up and find the pills.

You managed to roll over and grabbed your phone, gasping aloud as you pleaded with the world that your stitches stayed intact. You really didn’t want to stain your bed with any unnecessary blood, the girls would probably be upset, they loved this comforter.

With pain blurring in your vision you managed to click on the icon for Wanda’s name and hit speaker, absolutely no way that you would be able to hold the phone up to your ear.

“Hi sweet girl, what’s up? Are you alright?” The woman’s voice lilted over the phone, immediately calming you down. She had a way about her, her mere presence, whether in person or over the phone, always served to make you feel safer.

“I-I need…Wanda…Wanda it hurts…” You said through quiet sobs, your words punctuated by a particularly harsh sneeze that made you cry out.

“Okay, okay love, give us five minutes. I’m going to stay on the phone with you. Are you bleeding? Can you check for me?” She asked, you could hear that she was running, another set of footsteps behind her.

“No.” You whimpered, desperate for them to be back. You wanted them to fix it, you wanted them to make everything stop hurting, you wanted them to magically cure your sickness, which Wanda may actually be able to do.

“Alright baby, just stay still. Wanda and I will be there soon. Keep breathing.” That was Natasha, her voice rushed as footsteps pounded in the background. You coughed and let out a sob, curling into a ball as your eyes and nose streaming. Part of you wished that the pain would just take over so that you could pass out and stop feeling it.

You had almost slipped into that unconsciousness when the door slammed open and you felt gentle hands on your cheeks, one of the girls pleading with you to open your eyes. You obeyed, but mostly because of the harsher tone that you were sure came from Natasha.

You stared at their blurry figures, wondering how much of this was the fever and how much was the injury.

“Hey baby girl, there you are. Here, just want you to take this, okay? Swallow for me.” Wanda slipped a pill into your mouth and Natasha followed it with a cool bottle pressed to your lips. You took a little sip, but the cold water grated against your throat in an incredibly uncomfortable way. Every molecule in your body was ordering you to just stop. Your body was done.

“Oh Y/n, you’re burning up. Why didn’t you tell us? Why didn’t you say something sooner?” The witch cooed, wiping away tears as quickly as they could.

“I-it’s nothin’, s’nothin. J’st hurts.” You breathed, already feeling the effects of the strong cocktail that was whatever Bruce had prescribed for you.

“Do you think the infection’s back? We’ve been making sure that they take the antibiotic, should we call Banner?” Natasha asked, speaking to you as if you weren’t in the room, literally sitting right there. Of course, you were so out of it that you may as well have been in space, floating away from reality.

“Y/n, love, Nat’s going to check your side,” Wanda said, well aware that you weren’t listening even in the slightest as the drug kicked into your system. She could feel the heat radiating off of your skin and was absolutely panicking, but doing a good job of keeping it under control.

Natasha very carefully lifted up your shirt and peeled back the bandage to reveal a thankfully clean, not bleeding cut with all of the stitches still intact. She let out a sigh of relief and kissed your stomach right next to the injury.

You sneezed pitifully into the pillow and whined, looking up at Wanda with big, sad eyes. She grabbed a tissue and wiped your nose tenderly, her whole body relaxing as she took in the situation.

“You’re sick, aren’t you?” Natasha shifted and frowned at the two of you, sitting right by your head. You shifted into her lap and nodded, muffling a fit of chesty coughs into her leg. The assassin rubbed your back while the brunette by your feet hummed her disapproval.

“Okay, Y/n/n, let’s check your temperature and we’ll get you some medicine.” The thermometer was still there since they had been monitoring your temperature for infection reasons, but now you had a fever for a whole new reason! Your body was trying to kill you for something new!

“Open.” You glanced over at Wanda and pouted slightly, nuzzling closer to your other girlfriend, the one who wasn’t going to make you do something that you didn’t want to. You didn’t hurt anymore and you weren’t about to stay awake until the pain came back.

“Just listen to her,” Natasha ordered, poking you in the face to get you to open your mouth. Your first instinct was to bite her, but she was too quick for that. The witch placed the thermometer under your tongue and you let it stay there, not in the mood to fight either one of the women.

The redhead you were sitting on stroked your hair as you waited for the stick to beep, unknowingly lulling you closer to sleep.

“102.4, that’s not great. Y/n, why didn’t you tell us sooner?” Wanda murmured, scooching up on the bed so that she was laying beside you, still wearing relatively comfortable clothes. You rolled over and pressed your head into her chest, mumbling some excuse that no one could make out under your breath.

“Okay babe, take some more Tylenol and you can sleep.” You lifted your head and opened your mouth, not caring enough to take it yourself. If they wanted you to be medicated, they would be medicating you. Natasha rolled her eyes while Wanda chuckled and she helped you swallow the pills before laying you back down.

“You stayin’?” You slurred tiredly, cuddling up against the Sokovian.

“Of course, we’re staying, dummy. Apparently, you can’t be trusted by yourself.” The redhead grumbled, laying down on your other side. She pulled the blankets up over the three of you and kissed your shoulder blade. Wanda kissed your forehead and you sniffled, snuggling deep into the blankets. You could deal with the cold later, for now, you just wanted to be held.

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ganondoodle · 4 months

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sorry about that last rambling post, i didnt mean to sound like its worse than it may be, but i got no ... lense to view it through but my own, and the main reason i wrote it out anyway was bc i needed to get it out (even if posting it might be not the greatest idea) .. and bc it kinda showcases, i think, how my stories kinda write themselves, involuntarily in a way? its not like im not putting in any effort- but its like .. i cant STOP it always keeps going and even the dumbest idea stays in some form, its very hard to get everything in place bc theres so much going on all the while i am very slow at making anything, writing or drawing anything, especially anythign coherent is very hard bc not only do i get constantly distracted, i get distracted by my own thoughts suddendly skipping to a certain scene and me having to go throguh imagining in detail NO MATTER how many times i have done it before for the same scene that i already decided on how it goes, when theres a new idea it can take over my entire day bc i cant let go of it-

not trying to sound either like im the only that has that sort of problem, but i think its a big part as of why i start tso many projects without being able to finish them, or even start them bc i constantly have to fight my own thoughts from derailing into another daydream session, thinking of too much too fast than i can ever draw or even write about and not knowing what is worthwhile and what isnt (im telling you i have no idea what is good and what isnt, idk why but for all i know all things i do could be trash, or they all could be bad, maybe the one i thinnk is decent is actually worse than the things i deem not good enough and once i start to think no this isnt good enough i stop having fun making or thinking it bc im trying to do better

honestly its kind of impressive that i can get anything out at all, not to pat myself on the back there but even if i hate how long it takes me, considering how much im having to work just to start working on something at all, the fact that i could post stuff coherent enough for some people to understand AND LIKE is something i should be a little more proud of

#ganondoodles talks #personal #sorry today is a bit of a brain fart day #got a headache and have wasted the entire time until now (5pm) with watching old analysis videos i have watched 5 times already #and crying over undertales music #how much could i get done if i didnt have to deal with thought trains going 200 above speed limit #also didnt mean to sound mean to people who like the things i deem cringy #BC I DONT KNOW WHAT IM TALKIGN ABOUT 90% OF THE TIME #I DONT KNOW IF ITS GOOD maybe it is #my judgement of my own stuff is pretty random #.... maybe thats why i can work with fanstuff that adheres to lore better #bc it sets limits for me #it gives me options of rails to derail onto without falling straight into the woods #idk if that made sense either #... i need to start drinking more #(and i guess by calling some of my stuff cringe bc i am entirely unsure of its quality im trying to make myself smaller than i am)#(so if it turns out to be actually bad- im more safe from ridicule since LOOK I AM SELF AWARE)#and there i go letting my thoughts spin further #maybe ill delete both of these posts tomorrow when i realize how dumb this is to say in the first place

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ourflagmeansgayrights · 2 years

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THE FACT THAT EPISODE 4 HAS LUCIUS AND IZZY DEMONSTRATE THE EXACT SAME LEVEL OF SAILING SKILL AND SEAFARING KNOWLEDGE

before i really dive into that tho i just want to quick point out how perfectly the show sets up this comparison:

so when ed asks izzy, "What've we got here?" izzy gives his summary of the situation. the ship is damaged, and the crew is "bottom of the barrel." what's interesting about this is how, as izzy's saying this, the camera pans from roach and frenchie picking up wood and debris off the deck (which is actually useful work) to lucius absentmindedly tapping the railing with a hammer while he listens to pete talk, not even looking at what he's doing. and in case we missed it, the next time that the camera cuts away from izzy and ed's conversation it brings us to lucius and pete, and the audience clearly sees how lucius is putting minimal effort into fixing the ship. he has one hand on his cocked hip, the other one loosely holding the hammer, and he's not so much hitting the railing as he is letting the hammer bob around in his loose wrist, occasionally knocking against the railing. so clearly the show wants us to know that lucius is not one for manual labor, and it wants us to know that izzy knows this about him, and that's why izzy considers lucius to be "bottom of the barrel"

now, getting into how this episode shows us that Izzy Is Not That Great At Sailing:

FIRSTLY we have the frankfurter cloud conversation. ive already discussed how this scene serves as proof of izzy's sailing incompetence so im not gonna get into that in depth here (if you read that post i recommend also looking through the notes, there are a lot of good takes there). the short version: izzy should've known that the weather matters in sailing. i'm not saying he should've been able to figure out ed's whole plan, or that he should've known that the cloud shape meant that the fog would roll in, but he should've at LEAST realized that when his pirate captain asked him a question about the clouds, he wasn't just commenting on the shape of the clouds for the hell of it. izzy should've wondered if the shape of the clouds meant anything to ed, and he should've asked ed about it.

SECONDLY. so this one's a small one but when lucius walks in on ed staring at stede, presumably he's doing it to try and get his captain to help with The Situation. it's unclear if lucius wants help with the fact that they're currently being occupied by blackbeard's crew, or if he's referring to the fact that the scene right before this one is buttons pointing out the approaching spanish ships. the way lucius says "things have taken a very-" makes me think he was gonna talk about "things" taking a turn for the worse, meaning that lucius is seeking out his captain to get his help avoiding Death By Spanish. aka The Thing Izzy Spends The Whole Episode Doing

so lucius, who izzy considers to be a "bottom of the barrel" and "absolutely useless" crew member, has the same strategy for trying to escape the spanish that izzy does: he asks his boss to do something about it. izzy doesnt come up with a plan until it's too late for anything except "fight to the death," which is a terrible idea and would definitely get them all killed.

THIRDLY, FOURTHLY, AND SO ON: ok so. izzy shouldve thought about the cloud conversation a bit more. he and lucius both had the same Ask The Boss approach to problem solving. but it's the reveal of ed's genius plan where things get really interesting.

at the reveal of The Fog, everyone thinks ed's solved everything with his sheer genius, including izzy. he says "i don't believe it" because how ed could've predicted the weather down to the minute like this, but ed fixes him with this stare and izzy decides not to question ed any further

interestingly enough, stede does question further by asking ed how he knew this would happen, and that's how we end up getting an actual explanation of how ed knew this fog was coming. it makes me wonder if izzy ever asks ed to explain how ed comes up with his plans, or if he just lets himself be impressed and amazed (which would further reinforce izzy's image of ed as the most brilliant sailor he’s ever met and also half-insane). i also think it's worth pointing out that it's not just the clouds that helped ed predict the weather. ed says, "the color of this morning's sky coupled with the brisk westerly wind made me think we'd be safe." and notice how izzy is paying attention. just like stede, izzy also needs an explanation to understand how ed knew this would happen. ed's plan is just as mystifying and brilliant to izzy as it is to the rest of the crew. (and that's not a diss on izzy, more a remark on how ed is written to be a Literal Genius)

and when ed says, "and then the shape of the clouds confirmed it," that's when izzy realizes that ed's been planning for this the whole time. and crucially, izzy isn't mad at ed for not being upfront with him. muttering "fuck me" under his breath implies that izzy's mad at himself for not realizing ed had a plan. izzy HIMSELF recognizes that he should've been able to pick up ed's hint about the frankfurters

but do you know what izzy doesn't realize?? another crucial piece of ed's plan that izzy doesn't question, and that izzy most likely wouldn't have questioned even if ed had told him outright that he knew a fog was going to roll in once dusk fell and they'd be hidden from the spanish??

the Revenge is right in their path

izzy hands, alleged "only competent sailor on the Revenge," did not think about this fact. nobody thought of this fact except for ed, who thought he'd successfully planned around it, and buttons. buttons, who is implied to be the only person on stede's crew with actual significant sailing experience, who can spot ships without a telescope and is implied to have some level of magical ability. and this tells me that even if ed had actually told izzy "fog's gonna roll in at dusk, we'll be fine" it is a goddamn reach to say that izzy would've had anything to say aside from "good plan, boss."

then, and ONLY then, does ed mention the date. and another important detail: ed also says that tonight's a full moon, and that's not what izzy contests. ed could've said tonight was a full moon without saying it was september 2nd, and it's very possible that izzy wouldn't have realized ed was wrong. izzy doesn't deny that it's a full moon. the only thing izzy denies is the calendar date. and he's not the only one who does that

LUCIUS. COMPLETELY USELESS, BOTTOM OF THE BARREL, CANT EVEN HOLD A HAMMER RIGHT LUCIUS. IZZY WAS NOT ESSENTIAL TO ED'S ABILITY TO COME UP WITH A PLAN. THE INFORMATION THAT IZZY PROVIDED WAS NOT SOMETHING ONLY IZZY COULD PROVIDE.

one of the very first things izzy does this episode is call stede's crew shitty, but the the only skill or expertise that izzy demonstrates this entire episode is poor management skills and the ability to read Ye Olde Calendar. the one piece of relevant information izzy provides the whole episode is something that the ship's Laziest Gay also knew. the camera pans to lucius when izzy's calling stede's crew useless, but izzy ends up being ends up being exactly as useful to ed this episode as lucius is. less, if you remember that ed used lucius as a timer!!!!

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nakedbibi333 · 1 year

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im so happy i realised my true self, i am no longer living in fear and denial, i no longer have a victim mentality and i am fully aware that i am in charge of what goes down in my world. i am consciousness i am god. there is nothing to fear, i can create problems and i also create the solutions. nothing is out of reach for me . i have everything my heart desires and then some. nothing is off limits. i feel so relieved and happy that i can be my true self and live the life i deserve without regrets and guilt. i already have what i desire, it is mine already i don’t have to wait for anything i don’t have to “try” to get my desire’s because it already belongs to me. manifesting is my birth right. i deserve this and so much more. after what it took to get to this point i deserve to give myself all the beautiful things in this world and other worlds. i can travel the multiverse i can live the most luxurious life i can meet important figures in history i can alter major events that changed lives for better or for worse. nothing is impossible in-fact, the word impossible isn’t even in my vocabulary. manifesting a penny and manifesting a whole car both require the same process: know its yours already and keep it pushing! imagination is the only real reality and where all the change takes place!!!! change the inner man to change the outer man!!!!! i have all that my heart desires simply by assuming its mine already. i am not stuck in one state, i can change my state quicker than a click of my fingers i am never bored and i am always experimenting and experiencing life as i was put on this earth to do. i love myself and i love all the people i surround myself with. i could never go back to my old mindset knowing what i know now, i literally found the cheat code to life and it requires no work/effort at all! i cant believe we were conditioned to believe that we had to work hard and “hussle” for the things we want. i don't need to JACK SHIT!!! we were told that some people “just got lucky” being born into wealthy familys but THAT CAN BE YOU TOO (spoiler alert eiypo so you manifested their wealth) instead of dwelling in jealousy and feeling bad for yourself, GIVE YOURSELF THE THINGS YOU WANT. nobody else on this earth can give you anything, it all begins with self YOU ARE THE CORE you are the only one with this power so stop giving it out to external beings. prayer comes from within (pray by knowing its yours and it shall come into pass)

#ask

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yongislong · 2 years

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little person.

genre: yuta x reader (but you can imagine anyone in his place of it brings you comfort) angst, sad, domestic, fluff, suggestive ish, sad hours boink, self indulgent

cw/note: mentions of reader wearing makeup but gn, angsty, talks of depression, anxiety, isolation, money issues, college, heavy topics, love can't cure mental illness at all, but it's nice to be comforted yknow? inspired by pull by christian leave and little person by matt maltese, please give them a listen, not proofread...

overwhelmed is an understatement.

with college payment deadlines, chapters due, essays, campus life and being a full time server, it's not surprising how yuta noticed your burn out so quickly.

he would always nag you for working so hard, especially when you downplayed yourself so much. you were clearly burning the wick at both ends yet constantly referred to yourself in reference to being lazy and lacking. he never understood why.

you were clearly working yourself to the bone. even mark noticed when he came over to paint his nails with yuta one night, you busting through the front door with a tired smile and a promise of seeing him next time when you're not so sleepy and smell like stale bread. always waving them off like nothings wrong, while limping to the shared bathroom inside your room on the other side of the hallway. eyes sunken and face pale. makeup smeared. alongside a throwaway comment about how awful a customer had been to you.

but you really didn't think anything was wrong. i mean, you're doing what you're supposed to do. people are going through much worse than you and working a lot harder. sometimes it didn't seem fair that you thought to put yourself first.

yuta made it his mission to make you feel better.

you woke up after him. patting the empty space next to you. opening your eyes and shutting them almost as fast as the light from the blinds ajar burned the edges of your pupils, causing you to wipe along your lash line.

oh my god.

thrashing awake with heavy breaths and shaky palms you slam your hands down on your nightstand in an effort to reach your phone.

12:47. OH MY GOD?!

"oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, no, no, no, this is not happening, fuck..." you muttered, trying to gather your things and running to the bathroom to wash your face and grab your uniform for the night. rushing into the kitchen you see yuta, shirtless, back facing you as he seems busy with a pan in hand. swaying to the music playing from his earbuds. sweatpants low on his hips, tattoo on full display. pink gem belly ring sparkling.

"why didn't you wake me up babe?!? yuta!!!!! uhghhhg!!" you stomped over to him, pulling your hair up in a banana clip while making your way over, tapping his shoulder once you reached him. he seemed equally as confused as you are once he spun around, especially now that you're desperatly tugging your his shirt over your head to change. with a frantic look in your eyes.

"huh? babe, babe, hey.... not that i mind... but chill out, you have a free day today" he smiles softly, letting his hand travel from where he moved his headphones to grip your hips, lightly pulling you forward and pecking your cheekbone.

"what are you on about?? i have lecture today, and i'm already late, can you drive me. please? oh my god im so sorry i woke up late, oh fuck i hope i turned in my lit review last night... was it due... fuck i have to do my quiz today too, i'll get off work too late though..." you muttered under your breath in between gasps and cringes as you go back to trying to slip on your socks and shoes.

"relax, h-hey, y/n, darling, stop... i called your professors and boss last night, you need to rest. and you're going to. i'll help you do something if it's due tonight but the next two days will be spent here... with me!" he coos, a contrast from the smirk falling on his lips as you slow down your movements from where you were perched on the hardwood floor. yuta towering over your figure.

he sinks down on the ground with you, letting the wire from his headphones rest on his neck, the buds clinking subtly, as he moves to smooth his hand over your bare thigh in an effort to ground you.

"yu, what are you talking about, i- i can't, i cant. no! i-" you pressed the heels of your palms into your eyes. you were freaking out. mostly because you felt bad. and you were fine, right? i mean doesn't everybody feel this tired? you couldn't have had yuta so worried that he took it upon himself to halt you in your tracks... right? you don't even work that hard...

reaching for your wrists, he pries away your hands from your puffy face "yes. yes you are y/n. you're so clearly burnt-out! im proud that you're working hard but you're disappearing in front of me babe... you just seem... so sad..." he frowns, dipping his head low to meet where your eyes stayed glued to the floor, "i can't fathom how you don't think you work hard. you do. and you do so much. i hate it when you say its what you have to do. that you're just doing what everyone else does and that you feel you don't have a right to feel drained. you could've given up a long time ago but you haven't. why are you so hard on yourself? hmph? please don't treat me like a stranger, i want you to be able to be transparent with me. i don't judge and you know that, especially not when it comes to you. so please just forget about everything for a while. i know it's only two days but i want you to relax yes," he ends his monologue with a breathy chuckle. " and ugh, yes, maybe i'm selfish and i do want to be able to wake up next to you again," he says with an eye roll and a smile. you snicker, throwing your head back slightly. he watches you in awe.

"there's that pretty laugh" he whispers, catching your chin with his pointer finger and thumb, as you lower your head back down and uses them to angle you head to look up at him from where he pulled you onto his lap on the floor. you hadn't even noticed how close you both had gotten during his confession. but you didn't mind.

he catches your lips with his as you part them, the beginnings of a response to his words are swallowed up by his mouth as he kisses you like he hasn't seen you in months. you pull away softly, he chases your mouth, leaving two or three more soft pecks on your cupids bow before burying his face in the sliver of you neck revealed from how the collar of his old, worn, shirt lays against your shoulders.

he knows you're thankful by the way he can feel your heart beating out of your chest. the hands still holding your wrists can feel the way your pulse changed when he kissed you, and how it never slowed down, even after he stopped. he doesn't need to hear you say it.

the butter that was once melting on the stove was now long forgotten, the crackles from the gas stove and the rattling of you tiny cat's collar bell created background noise.

yuta lifted his head up from the junction in your neck, smiling drowsily, as if he had drank two bottle of soju. his long hair made purchase over his eyes he laughed giddily though his nostrils.

he stood up pulling you with him. turning off the stove and dragging you back towards your shared room. the mess you had left on the kitchen floor remained untouched. stack of pancakes yuta had made were left sitting on a hello kitty plate situated on the kitchen counter. your shared black kitten followed behind your guys' feet. stretching along the edge of the bed yuta sits you on to remove the shoes you so desperately were trying to shove on. kneeled down in front of you, he kisses your shin, grinning up at you. locking his hands around your ankles, he shifts your legs to lay under the dark velvet comforter he bought.

a comfortable silence filled the room as he shuffles next to you, pressing his face up against your chest and inhaling. pulling his face up with both of your palms on his cheeks, you look at him with a soft smile and eyes glossed over.

"i love you, thank you, you have no idea, you're kind of a genius... very sneaky, it was kinda freaky," you say lowly as you both stifle laugher over the small joke you released.

"i know, i know... i love you most"

i didn't take long after this exchange for you to lull back into slumber. even in your sleep he felt your hands instinctively wrap themselves around his neck, raking lightly through the long hairs near the base of his spine. the legs he'd slung against your hips are used to pull you impossibly closer to his front. he takes his as an opportunity to crane his neck to look up at you. hair sprawled all over the satin pillowcases. a the look of comfort and peace he hasn't seen in ages.

oh yeah, he's a genius.

closing note: omg some of the stuff i wrote reminds me of my other fic :") so apologies if it seems similar LOL also??? no one writes for yuta its insane. anyways i hope this brings somone comfort or enjoyment even if it wasnt requested! i usually dont do closing notes but the top of the post was getting so cluttered TT

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slymewitch · 4 months

Text

I’ve been bottling up a lot of my feelings for a while now and I think I need to just talk about them. Im sorry if Im being a bother.

@f4y3w00d5 @gobodegoblin @monsterfucker-research-wizard @vivithecatgirl @the-necrobotanist @combustion-witch @good-wizard @ash-the-tiefling @the-moth-wizard-of-mayhem @drew-bard-for-hire @mango-lord-of-poison @selldemapplez @aroace-wizard @terrencetheshark14 @drewp1 @mersinia

I want to rp with you guys but I’m still scared. Back when I did do rp I felt like I was always either too slow to keep up or that I would be left behind. It’s none of you guys’ fault I just suck at stuff. But I’m ashamed to admit that part of me was jealous of how well you guys could roleplay, and how much you all contributed to the world. But it felt like whenever I tried to do something, anything, it would already be too late. Like I’d try to help solve a problem and by the time I actually got the chance to say anything the problem would be solved already and I’d feel useless. And even when I started my own stuff it would suck, and I always ended up retconning it, and I feel so deep in my own bullshit that I don’t want to put you guys through the trouble of cleaning it up. I thought if I died in rp and there was no more pressure to rp anymore, that I’d be happier, but now I’m even more jealous, and I have nothing to talk about with anyone. But after a month, I know I’ll never be able to catch up. There’s more people who I don’t recognize now and I’m scared they’ll hate me. And every day feels even more too late to start again, I don’t want to go back to being dead weight like I always was and knew I’ll be again, but the jealousy I feel eats away at me. I don’t want to be on this break anymore but I know if I come back I’ll be useless just like I was before. I want to have fun with you all but I’m worried that it’ll come at the cost of your fun. This shouldn’t be as big of a deal to me as it is but it just feels that way to me. I’ve been left out of things my whole life and the one time I’m actually welcomed into something I suck at it and my own fear drives me away from it. With how much I’ve been excluded it’s almost triggering how much I felt excluded before and exclusing myself on my own terms only made me feel worse. I’m scared and angry and I have no right to feel either. I’m angry that I feel so jealous and I feel selfish for even wanting to come back. Even for this post Im angry at myself because I feel like I’m dampening the experience for all of you by exposing you to my pathetic feelings. And even more than that I’m scared. I’m scared of losing you all. After I died I just stopped talking here mostly and I feel like a piece of shit for that but without rp I didnt know what else to talk about, and so I feel like I abandoned you guys. I’m scared that you’ll all just forget about me, or that if I come back you’ll wish I wasn’t here. I’m scared that the new rpers will wish I wasn’t here. I’m scared you’re all happier without me. And I’m scared that by reading this you’ll think less of me, that you’ll think I’m blaming you all and that you’ll leave me behind because you’ll realize from this that I’m crazy and that I’m not worth the effort just like I know I’m not. Please don’t think less of me. I love you guys. I’m sorry for all this trouble, and I’m sorry that I need to ask for help. Please help me. I don’t know how but please help me. I don’t think I can help myself because I’ve already tried.

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bright-and-burning · 5 months

Text

got tagged by @albonoooo !! thank u <3

what colour are your eyes?: i have (very mild) heterochromia!! they’re mostly green but my left eye has a little brown stripe :) i guess u could call them hazel (or at least the left one) my mom certainly did for ages idk picture below u decide

(cont under the cut)

tell me about your pets/your dream pet: i (well. my family) have an orange cat and a porgi (pitbull corgi mix [he’s really just a mutt but we’re like 95% sure he’s got corgi in him somehow]). they are the lights of my life and also the goofiest lookin mfs. i’ve posted pics of my cat before but my dog is like. really distinct looking (see: porgi) but i love him so much … ask me for photos of him n u shall receive…

my apartment is pet free unfortunately. but also taking care of another whole ass being is A Lot so. i’m very chill w not having my own rn

share some interesting fact about yourself: i went to a spanish speaking daycare when i was really young (like toddler aged) and then when i was like 7 i invented my own language (as one does) and half the words were just. spanish. my parents spent ages trying to convince me that i did not just come up w the word espagnol . i swear to god. and i was a stubborn know it all kid and i wasn’t gonna believe them on anything without irrefutable proof (and how do u prove that??) so their efforts were largely fruitless LOL

what was the first fandom you were a part of?: for SURE harry potter. 9 year old me had unsupervised internet access and went craaazy

do you have any phobias?: hm. i Really Really Really don’t like things going near my eyes. it was wayyy worse before i started wearing contacts. like someone waving their hands around within three feet of me would freak me out. i do still get like. inescapable visions of pencils being waved around and accidentally put in my eye when i think abt it/when ppl wave pencils around that i have to physically shake out of

are you a picky eater? if so, what food can't you stand?: YES! texture issues my beloathed… i DESPISE melted cheese. blergh. bad bad vibes. and other funky textured cheeses… i literally just physically shuddered.

do you eat the burger and fries at the same time or one after another?: i consciously choose to eat burger first to get protein in. and THEN fries. if burger too hot then i get to eat two (must be even number) fries at a time until it cools enough to eat

winter or summer: summer <3 i love the beach i love the sun i love 6am runs where it’s already 75° i love swimming i love fun festivals. but also summer is a mindset . if it’s 65° in march im walking around in shorts and a tank top and sitting in the sun the entire day

favourite fanfiction tropes: oh gosh… best friends to lovers… idk i read it all baby. also gonna be honest the f1 interpretations of a/b/o are FASCINATING!!! and have really increased the draw by Far for me

are you studying or working? what do you study/is your job?: working! i am a silly little analyst

what is the last country you visited: canada in june to get drunk by the lake for a week <3

what country would you want to move to after retiring?: france… maybe not. but also maybe yeah. idk i don’t have any other strong connections to places, u kno? and i’d like to travel (fingers crossed i Can retire at an age where i can still travel easily lol)

who was your first crush?: gene kelly in singin in the rain and on the town… formative movies for 3y/o me

how did you get into f1 fandom?: web weavings on tumblr + like three random instagram reels (the mclaren wavelength video being the only one i remember lol) + the empty hole unemployment left me with inside = instant obsession

no pressure tag…. @oscarpiastriwdc @ocontraire @crimsonicarus @lafaerie @mecachrome

#tag game

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malscare · 10 months

Note

one KGLW fan to another how did you autopsy that screenshot like that?

oh i don't actually listen to KGLW im nosy for fun & like figuring out how people solve things and trying to recreate them through my own means!! but i will listen to them now lol motor spirit is really good

but okay so there are probably better/more efficient ways to do this, ik i saw other people in the notes posting their own clearer screenshots of the album name, but this is what i do:

it's like deepfrying any other image and actually serves kind of the same purpose of like filter enhancing details that are already there and just bringing them out - so you just boost a bunch of the filter options in ur editing app of choice, save it, and then do it all again in the saved version and repeat until you get the result you want, but be discerning and conscious of how much you toggle and if it makes detail visibility better or worse!! if you're boosting high and it makes the details harder to view, go lower, find a sweet spot in the middle, or leave it alone

i think this one turned out a bit better than the one i used in the post, we can see more of the album name!!! ik if i did a few more passes it'd probably have better clarity too, but that would have been a lot of effort to put in to a post that was already solved before i came across it lol. plus it's more fun to use like what little clues u can get from as much effort as ur willing to expend and then just deductive reason the rest (would this be a recent KGLW release that is being hyped and gatekept because it's new and good? what KGLW album has this word in it with an m song? if it has multiple [it didn't.], which is 8:33 long? etcetcetc). i hope this helped!!!!

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ohitshoneybee · 7 months

Text

Don’t Fear the Reaper

Chapter 3

Movie!William Afton x OC

Series Content Warning: SUBJECT TO CHANGE AT ANY TIME, kidnapping, Stockholm Syndrome, murder, MASSIVE age gap (it’s like 30 years), smut, like, a lot of smut, much more to come im sure

Chapter Content Warning: swearing, spooky, big loving dilfs hours

Credit and thank you to @bowersbubbles for the divider and beta reading!

Claras phone rings, waking her from her nap before class. She’s tempted to throw it across the room, but she knows better. She sits up, stretches, and flips it open, pressing the answer button. “Clara speaking.” She yawns, waiting a few seconds for a response.

“Hi, Clara, this is Steve. Steve Raglan. From the hiring agency. I just wanted to check in, see how your first night on the job went.” “Oh! Yeah, no, it was good. Mmm.. thanks for calling.” She smiles as she answers, still half asleep. “Good, good. Listen, if there’s anything you need, anything happens, call me.”

“Yeah, noted. Thanks again.” Clara mumbles, as she looks up at her clock, trying to read it in her half awake state. Almost 9:40 am. “FUCK, shit oh god, fuck fuck fuck!” She drops her phone on her pillow and stumbles out of bed, haphazardly throwing on a sweater and pants before throwing her sketchbook and some pencils into her bag. She snatches her phone from her bed and throws it in her bag, not realizing she didn’t hang up. She pulls her boots on and grabs her keys, her keychains rattling as she shoves them in her pocket. A soft thud on the floor and she looks down, her lucky rabbit's foot sitting at her feet. “God fucking damn it.. Fuck! Shit! I don’t have time for this!” Clara snatches the foot and stuffs it in her bag, barely making it out the door.

She makes it to her 10 am class in okay time, a little frazzled and worse for wear, but in one piece. The lesson isn’t exactly riveting, and she’s struggling to stay awake after the initial adrenaline from almost being late wears off. She catches bits and pieces, something about live subject sketching, but she can’t shake the feeling of someone watching her. It’s similar to the previous night.

She makes it back to her apartment around 2 pm, the four hour lecture one of her least favorite things every week. She catches another couple of hours of sleep before waking up around 10 pm, making dinner to take with her, and heading back out to work.

Night two. Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria.

Clara pulls into the parking lot and parks in the same spot as the previous night, her eyes set on the door and she sighs, grabbing her bag and her keys. This time, she’s got a book and her sketchbook.

The door opens with a little extra effort, and she locks it behind her, making a beeline towards the office to drop her stuff before she starts a routine. Go through all the cameras, put the too-big vest on and do a couple laps of the building. It takes about an hour, going through the entire building, and she manages to shake the feeling of being watched by going through her new routine.

Tonight, Clara pokes around the stages and finds a pulley to manually open the curtains, rather than starting up the whole song and dance again. She sits in a booth facing the main stage, her sketchbook open on the table in front of her as she doodles, little cartoon versions of all the animatronics spread across a couple pages, a Memphis pattern filling in the empty spaces. She starts to doze off around three in the morning and her watch beeps at 3:30, startling her awake. She gets up and stretches, trying to wake herself up. “Y’know, you guys would be a lot more fun if you could do things without the music playing.. I don’t think I can listen to that song anymore for the next month.” She crosses her arms and stares at Freddy, the tune to Talking In Your Sleep stuck in her head already.

A faint clank comes from the kitchen, and freaks Clara out. “Okay, I didn’t mean do spooky shit like that, guys.” She peeks through the cashier window into the kitchen and sees one of the fridge doors cracked open. “I swear to God, it better be a raccoon or a squirrel or something, this isn’t fucking funny..” She takes a second to hyper herself up before throwing the kitchen door open, doing a full sweep before stalking over to the fridge and throwing the door open all the way, only to be met with Cupcake sitting on a shelf.

“What the fuck?” She takes a half step back and looks back over her shoulder to the door. “But.. You were just with the others? How the fuck did you get here?” She picks Cupcake up and kicks the door shut, truly baffled as she makes her way back to the main stage. “I’m serious, no more spooky shit. It really freaks me out.” She sets the animatronic back on Chicas tray and hops off the stage, grabbing her sketchbook from the table. Clara wanders back to the office and plops herself down in the chair again, flipping through the cameras over and over until she’s sure she’s seen every video feed four times. She leans back in the chair with an exasperated groan, staring at the ceiling as she spins in the chair. Her watch beeps - four in the morning. She whines as she gets up, pacing around the room as she clicks through her speed dial on her phone.

Tyler.

Ella.

Mom.

Dad.

Kelcee.

Steve Raglan.

The only contact in her phone she’s bothers to save with a last name. The only contact in her phone to call in the past week. The only contact in her phone that said to call if anything happened. She pushes the last thought from her head, not daring to explore those thoughts tonight.

Clara sits at the desk and fishes her fork and tupperware of salad from her bag, as well as her book. She opens up to her bookmark and starts reading, occupying her last two hours with said book before her watch beeps at six.

#william afton #steve raglan #fnaf #fnaf movie #william afton x oc #william afton x self insert #lmk if i forget anything lmao

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maiverie · 11 months

Note

hello <3 i finally started reading triage and i laughed too hard reading the first chap :'D i loved the chemistry jokes sm (im still finding a time to read the rest but unfortunately it's almost time for school again) you're actually my fav author here in blr !!! your writing is just so well-written and that might be an understatement bcs it's just so good ??? i think no simple words can explain how amazing of an author you are <3 like the way you deliver the words and how you let readers imagine the little scenarios you make like it's so cool <3

(sorry if this is too long but) i also came here to ask you for advice hehe. im kind of a newbie here in blr and im currently working on my upcoming series.. and im unsatisfied with my progress and found myself deleting my drafts (for abt two times already ??) and i want to know how to be more confident in my writings and how not to overthink too much yk ?? would really love to hear your thoughts on this. you're not only a good author but a good advisor too !!! thank u sm <33

hi lexine (nice to meet u !!), stopppp YOU ARE TOOOO nice thank you sooo much for taking the time out to write this??? 😭💖 firstly, thank you for reading triage and plsss nawt the bitchless chemistry jokes 😭 kidding I also giggled while writing those parts smh

and secondly, ur fav author??? STOP LYINGGG i consider that such a high honour so thank you so much 🥹💞 to have your support is one thing and to read such positive words is another, so again thank you for taking the time out of your day to leave this message because it just made my day :(

aaa please don't apologise because I love long asks the most, and yes ofc my asks are always open! I have a tendency to ramble so beware a long message is below the cut — nevertheless I really hope this helps! 🥹💞

I firstly just want to preface that I obviously do not know everything about writing and this is all truly just one opinion, so only take what resonates 🫶

I can only really speak from personal experience, but I think it's actually a really good thing that you're going back to your drafts, revising your writing, which may or may not include the process of deleting/restarting things. obviously it's a really gruelling experience to go through (bc there's nothing worse than deleting all ur hard work), but I think it's really admirable that you're thinking about your writing and putting in the effort to make it better with each draft !! personally, I am constantly writing and re-writing my drafts and as much as it literally HURTS MY SOUL to delete words/paragraphs/sometimes entire chapters, I genuinely enjoy this process — to me, that's what writing is kind of all about? I know to most people ff is really not that deep (they're not wrong, it doesn't have to be) but I think the fact you're practising deliberation, reflection and thought in your writing, word choice, characters, plot etc. etc. is really really amazing !!

personally, I would say the thing to keep in mind is that everything needs to be in moderation — I've had chapters that have literally taken me a fuckload of re-writes (I'm a big overthinker / slight perfectionist), and while I did initially enjoy the whole process of editing / re-writing / discovering how to change certain scenes etc, it was really really mentally draining and I ended up losing passion for the story in the end. just be careful that this might happen to you? to avoid this, maybe every time you've reached a block (where no matter how much you re-write something, you always seem to hate how it turns out) you should try find a different source of inspiration — whether that means thinking about your story/characters with a different song playing, or moving wherever you tend to write, or having someone brainstorm ideas with you / beta-read your fic, or take a few days off !!

out of curiosity, what don't you like about your first drafts? is it the writing or the pacing or the characters? or is it something you can't quite put a finger on? let me know and we can try think about it together !!! im also the biggest overthinker when it comes to writing (💀) but what kind of comforts me and brings my feet back to the ground is reminding myself that 1) my fics are for MYSELF (i.e. you should be writing things you would want to read yourself, not what others might want to read - bc once you make it all about other people, that's when you really start to overthink) and 2) if im gna be fr, 90% of people on tumblr, especially enhablr, only really care about ff bc they want to read about their bias (if they wanted to read well-written literature, they would probably read a published book or smth yk). in saying that, it's totally okay for your fics to be imperfect (who cares! it's fanfiction!). I think just reminding yourself that ff is just a silly little thing u do in ur spare time (for which has 0 tie to your self-value) will keep you from overthinking things and raging when things get really hard !! when it comes to confidence, I think that comes gradually in small doses (the more you write, the more confident you become in your personal style / writing likes and dislikes), but maybe some ways to feel more confident is by getting a beta reader that you trust (and will give you effective advice — one that doesn't just shower you with compliments but can give you constructive criticism in a nice way), by reading other people's work (just to see if you're on the right track; if you read other people who have written similar tropes to you, it might make you feel less scared / in the dark bc you can see how they've executed it), or by changing the font on your google doc(?) to try reset your brain and re-read your work with fresh eyes.

I hope hope hope this helped in some way, please don't hesitate to reach out again if anything needs clarification or if I didn't quite answer your question (I'm sorry if I didn't 😭) !! <333 you're welcome anytime around here hehe so best of luck with ur series AND WELCOME TO BLRRRR <3333 it sounds like you're on the right track w ur writing if you're being conscious of all these things so I wouldn't fret at all!!! <33

if it helps, I've written other writing tips here, here and here! 🫶

#ask #@ : wonfied ♡︎#questions about

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