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[akashis-waifu]

Excerpt from Beyond God and Evil (Aizen Sōsuke/Female Reader)

Continuation of An Eternity of Mind Games with You

Canon-divergence set months after TBYW. Reader is the new Soul King, so is Aizen if you squint hard enough. Your name is "Hana" for plot-purposes.

Tags: Romantic comedy, fluff and angst, enemies to old married couple, banter as love language, mutual pining, immortality, so good luck with the slow burn, Aizen is a menace but your menace <3

THAT NIGHT, in the Greater Soul King Palace, Aizen can be seen looking for you as you were not in your shared office nor in your personal quarters. He eventually finds you in the tearoom, reading a scroll while leisurely sitting on the tatami mat, near the window.

He stops himself from speaking, simply staring at you from a short distance away. You are already dressed in your usual nightwear — a white yukata so plain that it does not seem to befit a woman of your status. Nonetheless, with the gentle moonlight shining down upon your form and accentuating your regal yet serene features, the soothing breeze swaying your long, ivory strands in languid waves, the sight is incontestably ethereal — the image akin to a goddess in a painting.

Except that you are actually one. In every sense of the word.

After minutes of engrossed reading, you rise to return to the table when you finally notice Aizen standing in the doorway. He saunters towards you and stops in front of the low table, his eyes — that were previously appreciative — instantly narrowing in disdain upon sighting the poorly-written characters on the scattered papers.

“Can you, for the hundredth time, get off my case?” you groan while taking a seat.

He makes no retort and merely picks up your calligraphy brush and a blank paper, demonstrating how to write characters properly before handing the brush back to you.

“Like this. Do it again,” he commands, sounding like a stern teacher dealing with a wayward student. You repeat his strokes but the result is nowhere near satisfactory. You glance at him gingerly.

Although the displeased frown is ever-present on his face, he surprisingly does not insult you and simply sits beside you.

“Again.”

This time, he carefully guides your hand, pressing against your knuckles and fingers as he adjusts your grip. It is arguably an intimate gesture yet both of you pay it no mind, your entire focus on your calligraphy.

Strange enough, when he moves your hand along with his, you are able to write beautiful characters. But when left alone, your penmanship is almost comparable to that of a toddler. Hence, it is probably no exaggeration to claim that your innate inability to write legibly remains to be one of the greatest mysteries in the Three Realms.

Aizen observes your crestfallen expression. A mischievous idea suddenly crosses his mind, causing a smirk to spread across his face.

“Shall we make this more interesting? Every time you fail to write correctly, you will have to do one thing I want.”

You regard him with an look that screams you find his suggestion idiotic. “You must be out of your mind if you think I will ever agree to that.”

He leans closer to you, his grin widening in taunt. “Why? Do you have zero confidence in your own writing skills?”

“Your obvious provocation won't work on me.”

Aizen simply stares at you for a moment before leaning back with feigned nonchalance. “Shame. And here I was thinking of treating you to your favorite restaurant for the next decade should you win.”

Your ears instantly perk up at his offer. “Really?”

He barely stops himself from laughing derisively at your piqued interest. The way you fell for such an obvious bait, like a child who has been promised a treat, was downright pitiful.

“Do you accept the challe—?”

“Wait a minute,” you interject with a hand raised. “But your money technically comes from the Soul King Palace.”

“Which is my palace,” he argues with arms crossed over his chest. “Your point is?”

“It actually belongs to me but since I’m feeling particularly generous right now, I will share it with you,” you start rambling to buy yourself more time to consider his offer. “Anyway, your money is my money. Even if you say that you’ll treat me—”

“Hana. Do you want the unagi or not?”

Your mouth instantly shuts at his question and the way he called your name, sternly but also in a familiar manner. After a long moment of silent contemplation, you surrender with a sigh.

“Fine, but make it a millennium.”

He raises an eyebrow at your bold haggling. “Five decades.”

“Millennium.”

“A century.”

“A millennium, Aizen,” you declare with finality. “I refuse to play your game unless you agree.”

“Alright,” he relents. “I’ll treat you for the next one thousand years if you win.”

However, unbeknownst to you, the game is but a scheme, as per usual, to make you spend more time with him in the next decade — which you unknowingly extended to a millennium. Aizen smiles to himself, beyond pleased to witness you digging your own grave.

“Then, let the challenge begin.”

After handing you the brush and paper, he gives you the first character to write. You have never been so focused in your life as you are determined to win at all costs. However—

“Huh?” you mutter in disbelief as you stare at your own disastrous handwriting.

Aizen smirks, having seen your failure coming from a mile away. He already has an order in mind but feigns uncertainty to prolong your agony. His index finger drums the table, pretending to be deep in thought. “Hmm, shame. What should I make you do now?”

You watch him with narrowed eyes, already well-acquainted with his antics. “Stop beating around the bush and say it already.”

“How about this?” he deliberately pauses for dramatic effect. “I want you to say ‘All hail Lord Aizen, the new Soul King of the Three Realms’ ten times.”

A deafening silence falls upon the room as you meet his taunting gaze with a bemused expression. When he shows no indication of changing his command, you unwillingly surrender but not without a catch.

“All hail Lord Aizen, the self-proclaimed new Soul King of the Three Realms,” you deadpan.

Obviously, Aizen is far from impressed. “If you refuse to adhere to the terms, you will not get that unagi even if you win.”

With your beloved meal held hostage, you grit your teeth in annoyance and reluctantly heed his order. The grimace on your face worsens as you watch his shit-eating grin widen with every repetition you make, his head nodding with purposeful slowness to further grate your nerves.

Once you’re finished, he praises you with a sarcastic applause. “Well done, Hana. I never knew you appreciated me that much.”

You hiss under your breath and impatiently pick up the brush, glaring down at the empty paper, determined to win the next challenge. However—

As Aizen has predicted, you still fail at your second attempt. And miserably at that.

Slamming your hands down onto the table, you stare at the paper with profound disbelief, eyeing the barely decipherable scribbles as if wanting to wipe them from existence. How is it even possible to be that bad at something that was supposedly easy to do?

At the realization that you lost to him again, you look down, refusing to meet his gaze due to humiliation.

Aizen only sighs before shaking his head in mock disappointment. “I’m starting to think that you’re losing on purpose so I can get to order you around.”

“Please shut your mouth and just get on with it,” you beseech almost pathetically.

Thus, without further ado, he declares:

“You have to sit in my lap for the rest of your calligraphy practice.”

[fruityfroggy]

1.8 SOONNNNNNN

THE YURI IVE BEEN WAITING FORRRR IS ALMOST HEREEEEEE AAAAAAAAAHHHH

Literally

LITERALLY LOOK AT THEM GRRRRRRRRR

EATS THEM EATS THEM EATS THEM

[gracetrack-higgins]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken, Newsies: The Broadway Musical! (2017) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Spot Conlon/Racetrack Higgins Characters: Spot Conlon, Racetrack Higgins, Jack Kelly (Newsies) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - The Little Mermaid (Disney Movies) Fusion, yes this is a little mermaid au because i hyperfixated too hard on the live action movie, spot is prince eric, race is ariel, jack is grimsby which is very funny to me personally, spot's kingdom is a little Caribbean coastal situation like the live action movie, for all intents and purposes king triton and ursula are the same, Mermaids, The little mermaid - Freeform, Disney References Series: Part 1 of The Little Mermaid Summary:

race is a mer-prince who aches to be human. spot is a human prince who longs to explore the sea. (it's a little mermaid au. you get it. it's gay. it's fantasy. it's disney. go nuts.)

[ipledgeawaymysanity]

Darlington wrote poems!?!?

the poet in me is screaming crying sobbing wailing...id DIE to read one...just ONE

[lupeloto]

i need a husband ficlet i miss them so much

i will surely be writing some again soon! as soon as my finals are over hehehe i’m so glad you look forward to them!

in the mean time, here are a list of my ficlets so far if anyone wants to binge:p :

“i’d prefer you”

“get acquainted”

“best thing to ever happen to me”

“ten more minutes”

“special privileges”

“you’re a real fuckin sweetheart”

“always wanna touch you”

“i can live without you”

“pretty, huh?” (my fav!)

uncle mickey

[my-halfassed-stories]

Intro Post

Third paragraph is literally copied from my main account

Hey, this is my writers' blog. I have a main blog (ohumokay.tumblr.com), but that's for mindless rants and arguing with conservatives. This blog is, as the description stated, mainly for my stories (short, fanfic, and other).

The plan is to post chapter by chapter, or section by section, and get public interaction and review. Hopefully, that will keep me on track and productive, even when mental crap and procrastination try to get me down. I accept short story post (i really do; please submit your stories, i love media interaction) and literary partnerships. As for what to refer to me by, since I'm 16 and hella shy, my real name isn't on either of my blogs, but on other medias attached to my writing (like Wattpad, BUT I SWEAR IT'S JUST FOR MY WRITING 😭😭), I go by Riri/Mars :)

My pronouns are She/They, and I'm in a ton of fandoms: PJOU, HTTYD, MLP, SBG, SAB, SOC, OUAT, TVDU, (honorary) HP, WFA, TDP, TOA, Legends of Avantris, Arcane: LoL, Epic: The Musical, ect. (I'll add more as I find the communities on here).

Okay, that's about it. Ask whatever, whenever, and it will most likely be answered and submissions (if guidelines are followed) are definitely gonna be submitted. Enjoy my writers' blog!

[blueberry-ink-93]

MXNSWKCNJDKSLKDCMX DIRECTORS CUT LETSGOOOOOOOO

first of all good luck on ur work bestie current and upcoming, i cant imagine how much braincells go into consant and consistent writing hgfsdfty the i wont be eloquent again is hysterical to me and so true lmao anyway all the best im sending u snacks and hugs all the time

anyways. ANDROMACHE MY BELOVED GET BEHIND ME dont want to get ur robes bloodied queen <3

love love love love love this post beyond articulation (also shush u explained it perfectly literally i want to put this post in bread and dip it in olive oil and eat it) i will be framing it somewhere trust

actually adore this angle of neo being the coward he is. genius. no redemption for my fucked up son he will live out the rest of his days in misery before dying pathetically and feebly ^-^

OUR FICS CAN HOLD HANDS FDKJNSJKLWED AHAHAHHA OMG neo will get his ass beat as the gods (u know who ;)) intended.

i really hope ill be able to be accurate and loyal to the text and time period & do them the justice they deserve while also characterising (and by extension writing) them well enough they dont fall flat or feel anything less than the complex and multifaceted people they are.

i may have bitten off more than i can chew (as per usual lmao what can i say) but im determined to see this through. its going to be cathartic and conflicting like my goal is to give everyone whiplash hehe. i love ur neo very much and i first came across him was literally thanks to ur fic back in like november? which like tysm hes permanently rewired my brain but i must have his blood u feel me?

i was looking through my google doc of deleted scenes from senses (this is how im shortening the title of my neomachus fic from now on bc holy fuck why do i keep making my titles so long (no i wont stop) and sikyctys is an ugly acronym) and found a little snippet that i wanted to talk about so here we go!

(rambling under the cut)

i actually very briefly discussed this with kindred at one point but there was a draft of senses that talked a lot more about andromache and what happened with neo directly after the war that i ended up deleting a lot of because i genuinely just couldn't think of a way to write it that kept neo as sympathetic.

because even in senses, while it's clear that neo isn't a "good" person, he is still meant to be sympathetic, but though the things that neo does after the war in ancient greece are meant to be products of the time, i just couldn't write that in a way that i was happy with that understood the severity of it but kept it so that you didn't hate neo. anyway here's a little section of something i wrote about neo and andromache that i ended up cutting

He’s seen time and time again the way women are treated among those the Greeks consider to be heroes. Achilles had refused to fight in the first place because his slave had been taken from him by Agamemnon; Briseis had no say in who took her from who—she was property to be stolen (Neoptolemus doesn’t know what happened to Briseis after the war. He hopes she didn’t fall into Agamemnon’s hands again).  Even Neoptolemus himself had been awarded a slave at the war’s conclusion. He’d been given one of the highest honours of all: Andromache, the widow of Hector. Achilles had been the one to kill Hector so it had only been fair to give Hector’s wife to Achilles’ son.  He’d been twelve. He hadn’t known what to do with a woman yet. More than that, what do you do when the woman whose son you killed as she begged for mercy stares at you with such contempt that you’re surprised you don’t shrivel up under your gaze? A part of Neoptolemus had been afraid that Andromache would sneak a knife through his ribs the second she got the chance.  Neoptolemus had left her with Helenus. He’d like to say he did it out of the good of his heart—that he’d realized he’d caused enough bloodshed and decided to spare this one life—but he doesn’t know how true that would be.

and while i think this is fine, i think it really makes neo an anachronistic feminist in a way that just wouldn't make sense for the time period. because the things that neo does to andromache in the myths are awful, but for the time period, they're supposed to be seen as signs of heroism in ancient greece.

and i just... didn't know how to write this in a way where you would still be rooting for neo. because that's what i always struggle with when i'm writing about greek myths—how much can i change to remove the misogyny before i'm delving into ignorance and pretending like that misogyny never existed? because i don't think you can really do that. i don't think you can separate these characters from the misogynstic things they do.

for example, let's look at achilles! that's my favourite greek mythology figure of all time!! but the silence of the girls by pat barker is also one of my favourite books because achilles is fucking awful. all the ancient greek men were. and for me to write a neoptolemus who is a feminist king when i'm specifically writing a canon compliant fic that takes place within the canon context of greek myth is just wrong and i don't really think i can do that. so i cut it entirely.

i mean, in a logical sense, you can still take this as canon. i kinda do. in my head, senses!neo still does the same action of being gifted andromache and eventually giving her to helenus. to expand on it, he definitely does it not out of the good of his heart, but because he is genuinely afraid that andromache was going to attempt to murder him. if i had written more on this, i would have included that and gone into more of a "this isn't a redeeming factor for him. this is proof that he's a coward. proof that he wants above all else to survive and he's willing to do whatever it takes to get that. he wants to live."

i think i would like to write another fic sometime looking at the really awful things that neo does, but senses just didn't feel like the right fic for it. it is an angst fic, but i spend too much time making neo lovable in that fic

man i'm bad at articulating myself LOL i've spent the past day writing a research essay proposal and i'm still not done. i will never be eloquent again

[sunboki]

— MR. FIREFIGHTER.

Christopher Bahng x fem. reader

TROPE. firefighter! au, neighbors! au, coincidences, power outage.. hehe

WARNINGS. cursing? chan being a firefighter bc HELLO

AUG'S NOTES. hi hi, ya’ll wanted more firefighter! chris? me too i gotcha

In a neighborhood like yours, power outages were common. But of course, with your luck just moving here, nobody paid any mind telling you.

Perhaps that’s the best explanation as to how you ended up at a strangers doorstep, your phone’s flashlight making the entire experience look a thousand times more pathetic the longer you shifted from foot to foot.

You’d been plugging in your charger, only for your entire bedroom to fall pitch black. Initially, you assumed it was simply a broker malfunction, leading to—after carefully hobbling out to the garage—a multitude of failed attempts to ensue.

About halfway from leaving does the front door open, and upon turning around are you met with a sight pitifully breathtaking.

Blond, messy hair rests atop a well sculpted face, masculine features on tanned skin, dark chocolate eyes belonging to that of the finest sweets.

“Hello?” He asks, voice thick with an accent you deem Australian.

“Oh yeah uh, the.. the power?” Winding your index around haphazardly, the man looks you up and down (an action that shouldn’t have brought such blood to your face), glancing around and wetting his lips before inviting you inside.

Sure, he may be a serial killer, but if that man strangled you, you’re not sure you’d be too upset. Shameless, but who disagreed?

Without a word nor greeting, he slinks into a small kitchen area, leaving you to curiously investigate your surroundings. You note the huge, beige boots by the doorway, the firefighter’s hat lingering on a coat hook.

And he’s a firefighter? Good fuck have mercy.

“‘Happens a lot,” The frustratingly attractive stranger grumbles as you enter the living area, candle-light illuminating the plushness of his lips. It takes you a moment to register he’s talking, too busy reigning yourself into a sane headspace.

He hands you a small mug of tea that’s warm to the touch, beckoning you to take a seat.

“And by the looks of it,” He laughs a low, bemused laugh. “You didn’t know that…?”

“Y/n, it’s Y/n.” You introduce, sipping the steaming beverage carefully.

“Scared?”

“Mm, little bit.” Truthfully answering, you scorn your bashfulness, hating how the way he’s merely looking at you disorients every sensible article of your brain.

Reaching forward, he fondly pats your head, eyes crinkling in the corners when smiling.

Just then you abandon all hope of remaining civilized.

“There’s nothin’ to be scared of, just light some candles ‘n wait it out. Plus, it’s good sleeping conditions.”

If he keeps talking you’re certain you’ll dig a human sized hole and bury yourself in it, because of course you had to knock on his door, him who you’ve become smitten with without even knowing his name.

Before you can apologize for likely waking him up, he interjects.

“But be careful with candles. ‘Don’t wanna start a fire.”

Recalling his firefighter status, you raise your brows, leaning back into the cushions.

“You’d save me, right Mr. Firefighter?”

Momentarily, surprise etches his face.

He grins.

“Nah I’d—”

You smack his arm and he laughs—a kind of laugh that makes the entire room burst alight.

“Of course I would. And It’s Chan by the way, but you can call me Chris.”

Already getting comfortable with conversation, you rest your chin upon your hand, studying.

His mannerisms (as much as his looks could kill) are rather adorable. They’re nervous, fiddling opposed to the career he chose.

A man with a deadly duality.

Charming.

“Oh? Nickname privileges?” You mischievously pique, witnessing that shyness once more.

He covers his face with his hands, dissolving into the couch, evidently embarrassed. The urge to continue becoming irresistible.

“Say, Chris, are you flirting with me?”

Peering through his fingers, Chris’ lips pull tug upward slightly, seeming to mirror your sly attitude.

“I don’t know, am I?”

Perhaps it’s your imagination, but his voice seriously just lowered a pitch and all ability to bite back has turned to dust. And now you can certainly say your feelings are justified, especially from his eyes. Brown hues boring into you, sending your heart a thundering mess.

No, no no, don’t say that. That’s not fair.

As if on cue the lights flash awake and you spring up from your place, attempting to hide the flush of your cheeks.

Barely making it out the door before Chris pulls you back around, his hand loosely grasps your wrist, stuffing a piece of paper into your palm adorning that same stupid smile you’re effortlessly falling in love with.

Inside his number is written, and more than ever you feel like a teenage girl passing notes to her boyfriend in class.

“Just in case,” He claimed, clearing his throat as if that would magically cure his noticeably pink ears.

Take it back, you’re both teenage losers fighting to see who cracks first. Nervous wrecks, red faces.

“In case my house burns down?”

“That’s a plus, yep.”

“You’re awful.”

Chris, walking you up to your door despite being a mere foot away, giggles his delight, bidding you good night. But seconds before he turns around it’s your turn to be spontaneous, and you press a soft kiss to his cheek prior to racing inside, shutting the door as quickly as possible.

Oh my god. Oh my god.

Covering your mouth with your hands in order to suppress the utter squeal threatening to break your lungs, you feel seconds from physically imploding — ignorant to the fact that outside the door, Chris is currently doing the same thing.

sunboki, may 2022 ©

[slackster]

Now that Cloud chaser has hatched, do we got to see her 👀 maybe?

Skystar ship child!!! I also have her adult ref ready, as well as a comparison to her dads :3

She’s a big gal!! I love Cloudchaser hehe

And if y’all didn’t know, I have a wavewave fic as well!! Shameless plug I know, but check out Warmth of the Sun if you like King of Vos!!

[artstennisracket]

art (weed virgin) getting high with patrick (experienced stoner) for the first time at a frat party, and accidentally getting hard… patrick has to corrall him away from flirting (“i’m just being nice!”) with his tennis team, into the bathroom to tell him to keep it in his pants. art gets all whiny and patrick has to take care of him 😊

there’s actually a scene like this is like this in ch 2 of camp evergreen (my artrick summer camp au on ao3) but just the weed virgin part and then Patrick shows him how to shot gun😏 but shameless plug asideeeee i actually really like where your going with this prompt anon ;)

not proofread hehe

cw: nsfw(18+), drug use, d/s undertones

Art had been high before sure. Other drugs though. He’s done ecstasy, coke, ketamine (by accident), and poppers (he was drunk and persuaded to try, story for another time). But he’s never smoked weed.

Weed was always Patrick’s thing. He would always try to goad Art into trying it but Art never had a desire to. But Patrick would always say “when you lose your weed virginity it better be with me” and left it at that.

Art never liked how it smelled and preferred cigarettes, but he quit when he got to Stanford, inhalation drugs were bad for his lungs.

But now they’re at this frat party and Art is already tipsy, it’s seemingly very easy for Patrick to convince him to try weed.

“c’mon just a little hit?” Patrick asks as he hold up the joint in front of Art’s lips.

They’re sitting next to each other on the couch of a frat house. There’s another guy from the tennis team on Art’s left and a few other tennis teammates scattered around the room. They’re all smoking courtesy of Patrick for bringing “the good stuff”. Art had been passing up his turn for a few rotations but he’s been getting progressively drunker and maybe a little second hand high.

So this time to everyone’s surprise but especially Patrick’s, Art shrugs and lets Patrick press the joint against his lips. He takes a drag and blows the smoke out. Woah. The feeling that washes over his body was kinda euphoric.

He feels super relaxed but also a little dizzy from the alcohol.

“good?” Patrick asks from his place in the couch.

Art nods, taking the joint out of Patrick’s hand so he can take another drag.

Patrick smirks, “take it easy there tiger.” He always knew Art would like it but he wasn’t sure why Art was so stubborn about it.

As time passed on and everyone gets progressively more inebriated, Patrick starts to notice that Art is acting a little…slutty? ditzy? Somewhere in between.

He basically sitting on the lap of the guy who was sitting on the other side of the sofa. The last few passes of the joint, multiple teammates offered to shot gun with Art instead.

“what’s that?” Art asks giggling. Patrick could count on one hand the amount of times he’s heard Art let out an actual girl-like giggle in their years of friendship. But now here Art is giggling every damn second like his teammates are the funniest people on the planet.

“c’mere I’ll show you,” The guy that Art’s practically sitting in the lap of, which Patrick has now learned that his name is Luke. He pulls Art fully into his lap now, turning Art so that Art’s straddling him.

Luke takes a drag from the joint holding the smoke in his mouth. Luke moves his hand to grab the back of Art’s neck so their noses are almost touching. Art lets his eyes slip close, almost like he expects Luke kiss him.

“so fucking eager,” one of the teammates call out from across the room. Patrick is going to have to agree, when the fuck did Art become so easy? This isn’t turning Patrick on at all…

Luke tips Art’s chin down, thumb dragging on Art’s bottom lip until he opens his mouth just a little bit. Luke gently blows the smoke into Art’s mouth and Art inhales it. Art blows out the remaining smoke and bites his lip before he says, “that was fun.”

And in seconds Art is being passed around from one teammate’s lap to the next, shot gunning with them all. Patrick thinks it’s really fucking unfair that he was the one that even convinced Art to try weed in the first place and he isn’t getting any attention from Art. Everyone else is benefiting. Patrick was feeling a little jealous but also growing very hard in his jeans.

“he’s just so fucking pretty right?” Luke asks Patrick, but Luke still has his eyes glued on Art.

Patrick smiles lazily. Art has always been pretty. Pretty like a girl. Soft smooth skin and all. When Art started shaving his whole body years ago Patrick made fun of him for it even though secretly he really liked it. “yeah try being his roommate for 6 years, he’s fucking oblivious.”

Luke scoffs, “you’re telling me you never fucked him? no fucking way.”

Patrick shrugs. He had given up on chasing Art years ago. It’s draining being so close to someone who doesn’t reciprocate any type of romantic feelings so he just repressed his feelings and moved on.

As Art is being passed from lap to lap, his teammates get progressively more touchy. Some of them even grinding up against Art. There’s some exchanges of words that Patrick can’t fully hear, but he’s sure that Art is flirting with every single person in that fucking room. The last teammate fully groping Art’s ass as they shotgun. He tries to have Art stay sitting on his lap even after the shotgunning is over. But Art finds Patrick’s eyes across the room. And Art is fucking smirking. Is he doing this to Patrick on purpose?

Patrick can see the look on Art’s face. His face is flushed, his eyes are glossy and red rimmed from all the smoking. He’s just over there looking all fuckable, teasing not only Patrick but being a cocktease to everyone in the room. Eventually Patrick gets fed up walking over to where Art is sitting on god knows whose lap.

Patrick grabs Art by his wrist pulling him out of the room. There’s some lingering chattering as the team watched them leave. Most notable being Luke saying, “I knew they fucked before.”

Art whines as Patrick pulls him into the bathroom and shoves him against the door. “what the fuck was that about?” Patrick asks.

Art shrugs smiling. His pupils are fully dilated, “what was what about?”

Patrick scoffs, “if I didn’t know any better i’d think you were trying to incite the first ever tennis team orgy at Stanford. or was that not the first time?”

Usually when Patrick gets mad at him Art gets really upset, and usually cries because he can’t physically handle Patrick being upset with him. But at this moment considering Art is high as a kite, it’s kind of turning him on.

Art is biting his lip as he looks up to meet Patrick’s eyes. He doesn’t even respond to Patrick just keeps looking at him.

Patrick noticed that Art is half hard and when he puts two and two together he realizes the state that Art’s in. Jesus fuck. “oh you’re not even listening to me are you baby? just need to be touched hm?” Patrick coos moving his hand to cup Art’s cheek.

Art nods nuzzling his face against Patrick’s touch.

And Patrick doesn’t need to be told twice. He gets to work kissing down the side of Art’s neck while he works to unbutton Art’s shorts.

“i should fucking mark you, leave hickeys on your neck so ur teammates know you belong to me,” Patrick whispers in Art’s ear. Art moans which turns into a gasp as Patrick starts jerking him off.

“this is what you needed right? wanted to be touched so bad you started acting like a slut right? bet you would’ve let them fuck you if I wasn’t here.”

“oh fuck- Patrick,” Art whines letting his forehead fall against Patrick’s shoulder. Art’s hips start stuttering so Patrick knows that Art’s close.

“or maybe you wanted to make me jealous. maybe you wanted me to fuck you right there in front of all them. bend you over the couch and show them who you belong to hm?” Patrick continues.

“please fuck please ‘m gonna cum Patrick,” Art groans as he releases all over Patrick’s fist, making a mess in his shorts.

Patrick smirks pulling his hand out of Art’s shorts, “i don’t remember saying you could cum.”

Blood rushes to Art’s cheeks as he blushes, “‘m sorry i-i didn’t mean to.”

“it’s okay i’m sure you can find a way to make it up to me.”

So they go back to Art’s dorm. And if Art is limping a little the next time he has tennis practice, his teammates make sure to give him hell for it.

[wrioelise]

⋆୨୧ ₊ﾟ mornings with him ⊹ɞ ↴

⤷ wriothesley x gn! reader

wc: 634

a/n: just a little scenario i thought of while trying to fall asleep! i'm like pretty sure this might be ooc but I can't help but imagine this after seeing the 4.1 trailer!

It’s early in the morning and you’re still dozing off in bed, the warm feeling the comforter provided and the pillows and the bed beneath you felt so soft and comfortable, the white noise that the ac provided, it all felt nice, especially when you’re engulfed in Wriothesley’s embrace.

As much as your lovely boyfriend would love to have a late and lazy morning with you, he really can’t. He needs to be at the Fortress of Meropide early in the morning. Apparently today ought to be busier than most (not like the other days weren’t). 

Wriothesley wasn’t in the best of moods, it’s not everyday he gets to spend most mornings with you and every time he thinks he can finally get to do so, it gets stripped away before him. He already has to leave early mornings but he despises it even more when he has to go much earlier, so he couldn’t really help but to get in a foul mood.

He didn’t think it could get any more worse than having to get up early, yet he was in for quite a ride. First, it seems like the shower is much more cold than usual just to spite him, the coffee maker in your shared apartment wouldn’t work properly, he can’t figure out where he placed his other pair of fingerless gloves, there was a small tear in his cape, his hair would not cooperate,  and for some reason he couldn’t tie his damned tie.

He sits down on the bed, a scowl visible on his features and he lets out a frustrated sigh as he undoes his tie for what seemed like the millionth time. And like magic you suddenly woke from your comfortable sleep, like you sensed his frustration or something.

You rub your eyes in an attempt to eliminate your drowsiness, you look out the window before looking back at your boyfriend who’s back is facing you.  You crawl out of bed and make your way to stand in front of him. You greet him in a soft tone, “Hi there darling.. Want some help hmm?”

He looks up at you and a small smile grazes his face, “ ‘m sorry, didn’t mean to wake you up love, but that would be really nice to get a hand..”

You kiss his forehead before fixing his collar and you do his tie. While you’re doing his tie he can’t help but admire the way you look, you look so ethereal even though it’s early in the morning, he also can’t help but think that  the way your morning voice sounds is so hot. He’s too busy admiring the beauty in front of him he hasn’t noticed you’re done, until you kiss him once more. 

“There you go darling, all done” you say as you fix his top and you smile at him.

He takes both of your hands in his own and he kisses it, “Thank you so much love..”

You steal another kiss from him before saying, “It’s no biggie, need help with anything else?”

“No no it’s fine love I can handle myself”

“Hmm you also said that last night and look who’s frustrated just a few minutes ago, so lemme come and help, I don’t leave for work until later today anyways.”

He felt so lucky to have someone like you, your mere presence alone calms him down. He stands up and he holds your hand and you help him with the things he stressed on about.

Later that day he bought flowers and had them delivered to your workplace and it has a note which read: Thank you for today, yesterday, and every other day that was and will come.I love you darling.

He’s down bad for you just as you are for him!

a friendly reminder to check out my other blogs, it's in my pinned post hehe (such a shameless plug HAHAHA)

૮₍ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა thank you for taking time out of your day to read my works, I really appreciate it and I hope you have a great rest of your day/evening/night! ♡

© 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐎 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐— do not plagiarize, repost or translate any works onto other sites.

[suidazaide]

The Mori Domino Effect

Okay, so, to preface, I just got done (ish) writing a fic where Mori took Dazai in as his son and treated him with the care and affection Fukuzawa did with Ranpo, and it made me realize that, if Mori *did* treat Dazai that way in canon, then the series would just be SO drastically different. (The Boy I Saved by suidazaide on ao3 hehe shameless plug)

For one, because Mori wouldn’t mistreat Dazai/treated him with care instead of just manipulation, Dazai could *possibly* have felt more kinship towards Mori and, since Mori wouldn’t have ulterior motives, Dazai wouldn’t feel the need to be so standoffish with him. So their relationship wouldn’t be toxic and would be a proper relationship of father-son with a splash of them lowk being sociopaths.

So, with that in mind, Mori’s influence of taking genuine care of Dazai

VERY slight BEAST manga spoilers!! like Mori did with Atsushi in BEAST.

It’s possible Dazai could have treated Akutagawa with less violence and being more patient towards him, which, in turn, could just get rid of the whole abuse cycle as a whole, meaning Akutagawa wouldn’t mistreat Kyouka, meaning she wouldn’t be forced to kill all those people, meaning she possibly wouldn’t have left to join the Agency, meaning she wouldn’t have met Atsushi.

ADDITIONALLY, that could also mean that, if Mori genuinely viewed Zai as his son and wouldn’t have wanted to do anything to hurt him, he wouldn’t have been involved with Oda’s death, and Dazai would use the “help some orphans” like or whatever Oda said, and put that energy in helping Kyouka whenever she came along to the Mafia, which could have made her his Atsushi in the PM and it’s possible Zai wouldn’t have left the PM at all, which could snowball into the fact Atsushi wouldn’t even be his apprentice, which would change *his* character without Dazai being his mentor, and probably even enemy since the Agency and the PM were still very much at odds.

If Mori had some tweaks to his character as a father figure in the way Fukuzawa was (being the Mafia Dad essentially), then BSD would be so different it’s unrecognizable. Not necessarily saying he’d be a good person, but he’d probably just handle children with more care.

I might have done things a bit off (I’m probably downplaying what Oda really said to Zai, i’m sorry if i did 😭), and feel free to correct me on that!! It’s just soooo interesting how Mori’s treatment of one character can result in soooo much in the entire series. Asagiri’s character writing is so good it makes me cry fiskxbekdndosx I love Mori I’m sorry

(This may or may not be copied from my reddit post about this)

[joons-cinnamon-bun]

Hi guys!

How have you all been? Been a little while since I got a chance to sit down and properly open tumblr.

(And when I open it I change my name, hehe)

Life went from insane to calm and back to insane in a heartbeat. Seems like it’s something in the air—planets doing their thing. Someone or another is in retrograde constantly, I swear.

Still, even with all the hectic living, I've managed to sneak a little writing time.

That said, I need to announce that The Holiday Pretense is officially going on hiatus.

It's a story I genuinely love, and I adore the characters, but every time I return to it, I feel this weird pressure—like it’s either “write this perfectly or write nothing at all.” And so far, I've chosen nothing each time.

After some good talking with people I trust, I realized I need to let that pressure go, at least for now. So the hiatus it is. (with hopes and prayers that come Christmas time 2025, you all will get a new that delicious smut you have been waiting for✨)

Now, onto something a little more fun!

For The Case of Us, I've decided to lean into the detective vibe. That means you'll be getting lil' "random" scenes—little drabbles, glimpses into the characters and their dynamic—dropped in whenever order they pop up in my brain. These won't follow a strict order, but they will be interwoven with the main storyline: the longer chapters that'll walk you through a full case. (and their relationship✨💕)

I already have three of those drabbles written, and I can’t wait to share them. (just need to get a cover done... but at this point I think I'll just keep the moodboard as a cover coz i just love sm)

And in another order of ideas—would you guys want to know what I'm currently working on? 👀

Because I’ve got two one-shots on the way, and two big, fat fics I’m working on. (In typical Rachel fashion where I have 40k done but the story is just about 40% done...heh)

(Also, I feel weird tagging you guys in this, but since its about... well, the stories, I kinda feel like I had to in a way?

@uniquetravelerone @sexytholland @codeinebelle @annyeongbitch @rpwprpwprpwprw @goldietigers294 @amarawayne @oneshallsmile@ktownshizzle @jimineepaboya @callmenoona25)

(shameless plug moment: if anyone wants to be added to the list, just drop a comment)

ok. I'm really done rambling now. Thank you for sticking around! (Truly💮.)

Writing may come in waves, but so does everything else that is good :)

[skyrim-forever]

So doing the baby meme thing got me thinking. What if Ondolemar found out Theodora was pregnant with his child while they were still seeing each other in Markarth? Just woke up one morning threw up beside his bed, she goes to Whiterun to get checked and BAM lil baby Arthano making an appearance in her tummy early! Because you know he was just so excited about popping his head out. Totally ready to be the next Arena champion. What kind of drama would ensue? Would Theodora even tell Ondolemar about it, given their current roles? How would Ondolemar feel sitting in his office or pacing Understone Keep knowing that Theodora was out there carrying his child? I NEED THE GOSSIP!!

Hi friend <3 Thank you so much for this ask this is a really interesting question. Unfortunately I can't see a scenario in which they would keep the baby because there are two ways it could happen.

Earlier on before they admit their feelings, if Theodora found out she would have a ~~fantasy abortion~~ and not tell him. They aren't in a relationship, owe each other nothing so it would be an "oops!" and then she'd be super careful. As their feelings came out she would tell him and he'd be very practical about it. That was the reasonable solution to falling pregnant in this type of arrangement. No hard feelings on his end.

It would happen after they had their love confession in Windhelm (chapter 1 is out here hehe shameless plug) in which case it would be the same outcome. This time done for the fact their isn't really any other option, she's got to fight Alduin, he has his duties. As long as she has to be in Skyrim she wouldn't be able to hide it, and then once its here, what do they do?

I was inspired to write this second scenario as that will explain it better. Under cut because sad :( and long this is 1100 OOPS

Ondolemar made it a point to work now, try to get something done while he still could. His love had scarcely eaten last night and was sprung from the bed early this morning with some foul sickness, retching into what she could find. The empty barrel had been something he meant to get rid of anyways. Theodora left to go see the Alchemist in town in hopes she could provide her answer as to what was afflicting her. She suspected some sort of stomach flu and if that was the case, he would likely come down with it too. Best work now until she returns with more information. 

Once she is gone for more than an hour he begins to worry. Running through his mind are fears it could be something more serious, something contracted on the road, an internal injury as she insisted on healing herself whenever possible; the fact they both drank heavily was not helping. The woman drank to be drunk where as he consumed casually throughout the day, it felt a bit better even if in reality it was comparable. As it’s nearing hour two, she comes back to him. Abandoning his work, he walks over to her, speaking just after the dwarven doors close. 

“You were gone for longer than I anticipated, I trust she found something? Are you going to be alright?” Her hands extend and he welcomes them gladly, trying to pull her in closer but she stays standing on her own. 

“I also wasn’t expecting to be gone that long either, but the alchemist has a strong suspicion.”

“That is good, what does she think? I hope it is not Bone Break Fever, absolutely a nasty disease that is. Do you feel weak?” She smiles meekly.

“A bit but that’s not it.” Noticeably her eyes fall to the floor. “I won’t know for certain until I speak with the healer, Danica Pure-Spring at the Temple in Whiterun but…” All the way to Whiterun what could possibly require such a trip? Any ideas as to what could be that serious are interrupted with the reveal. “I may be pregnant.” Oh. “And if I am then I will also take care of that at the Temple as well.” 

Ondolemar did not mean to be silent for so long, regretting that he retreated inward to grapple with this information rather than immediately comfort her. Regretting even more now that she apologizes.

“I’m sorry, normally I’m very good about-” He remedies the silence by bringing her to his chest, no resistance from her as she falls against him. Hand rubbing her back and the other smoothing her hair, he speaks. 

“No no, you have nothing to be sorry for, famously it cannot be done alone.” A weak attempt at humour but she does laugh, before the sobbing begins; anguished like he’s never heard her before. Hoping to never hear it again. Knowing there's nothing he can say at this moment, the intensity can not be healed with words, demanding to be felt, that is what he does. Let her cry against him until she can muster the words, chastising herself in anger now.

“Fuck, why am I crying? I’ve never considered having children before so why does it matter? Why do I feel so…” The question ends abruptly with another wail. 

He had thought of having a family someday, long ago  when he was much younger. The plan had been to throw himself into work, advance the family’s standing, then and only then would he let his mother work with the matchmaker and get on with the decades long progress to get married as an Altmer. But there was always more work to do, longer hours, more travel. Before he knew it the decades slipped by, casual relationships here and there but never entering into the formal process of courtship. Mostly with other agents, they were who he was around the most and thus were deeply familiar with the strict schedules under the Dominion. Seeing his sister wed had made him content, she found a nice, respectable man from a scholarly family in Skywatch. There were times he tried to rationalize with himself it was for the best. Whether or not he enjoyed it aside, he was a soldier first and foremost, the nature of a soldier is to be sent far from home. No point in having a family if he would not be able to see them, nor would he ask her to keep it as she was making the logical choice. There is her fated battle on the horizon, the matter of his position, as well as the purges conducted where there was higher density of mixed man-mer ancestry. What would he ask her, doom yourself to a life of hiding and single motherhood as he cannot follow because he loves her? Because sometimes he did imagine leaving his post, finding some way to flee from the Thalmor’s gasp and shed that which he cannot entirely believe. Tempted to do it even as he wished they lived in a better world and is curious if she has had similar thoughts. 

His thumbs gently wipe away her tears, as best he can, while cradling her face. 

“It is a serious situation, Theodora. You’re having a normal reaction regardless, let alone under our circumstances.” She nods and he places a kiss on her forehead, before gauging the situation.

“Do you want to keep it?”

“It’s not a matter of if either of us wants to, we can’t. Even if I could hide it the whole time, fight Alduin and manage to survive despite being who knows how pregnant,” A pained sigh as she is blunt with him on something which he knows to be true. “And unless it comes out looking identical to me, I’ll only be able to lie so much. Questions would be asked, Ondolemar. Nevermind if I tried to bring them around you in any capacity, how soon would it take someone to put things together, how fast would the hammer slam down on you?” Gods, she is right but that doesn’t stop the sting.

“I know, I know.” Leaning down for another kiss on her forehead, hands instead wrapping around her torso in a loose grip as she rests her head tilting upwards, clear view of the redness sin her eyes and the change in her skin tone. Red and puffing from the mental ache.

“If I were to have children though I’d want you to be their father.”

“They could have no one better as a mother than you.”

“I love you, Ondolemar.”

“And I love you, Theodora.”

[hannahmanderr]

Soooooo for those of y'all that might follow Supernova...

It is NOT abandoned, first off. It's been over a year since I've updated it, and so I really just want to reassure folks that I have not forgotten about it, not once. The epilogue has given me incredible grief to try and get written is the problem and that's because...

Supernova is getting a sequel! I've had ideas for a sequel for a long time now, even since Supernova was still in its infancy. I'm pleased to announce that Aurora will be continuing the story of Danny as he navigates his new role and a whole new threat!

Unfortunately, the planning for Aurora has been... difficult to say the least, mostly because there are a lot of moving parts that I want to make sure get covered, and it's difficult to figure out exactly how to move them so that they all get covered properly and satisfactorily. I'm normally not the kind of author who outlines her fics, but this time I want to make sure I have a decent outline before attempting to start writing, even if it's just for the first few chapters.

All that is to say I promise I'm still working on things behind the scenes! I've made pretty big steps in the past few days planning wise, and I'm super excited about where it's going! My plan right now is to upload both the epilogue of Supernova and the first chapter of Aurora at the same time, that way y'all get plenty to read after such a long hiatus hehe

Thank you, from the bottom of my heart to everyone who's read this little story of mine! I'm going to try and divide my time equally between this and my DPxML crossover, but I promise I'm gonna keep working hard to give y'all a good story! Never once have I thought about abandoning this fic and its sequel, and I have no intentions to start now!

In the meantime, if you feel like doing a re-read while you wait, here's a shameless link plug ;)

[musicalmoritz]

Heyy ! First off i love your posts sm !! I was wondering if you have any leopika headcanons ?

Hi!!! Thank you so much, I’m glad you like my posts :D I do have a longer post about Leopika headcanons here but I’ll share some extra ones here for funsies

• Although I do not think this would happen in canon, I looooove the fic trope where Kurapika shows up on Leorio’s doorstep needing his wounds patched up sometime between Yorknew and the election arc. In fact I have written one of these myself hehe shameless plug

• I love to incorporate bits from Leokuradio in my version of Leopika. Clingy drunk Kurapika will always be famous to me

• Also a big fan of Kurapika’s eyes turning red from happiness during significant moments with Leorio

• And I love the hc that Leorio has a big family that basically adopts Kurapika as one of their own as soon as they meet him

That’s all that comes to mind rn!! I love those two sm