#it's not a drabble this time lol

[gojoslittlemonster]

Self Ship Summer Prompt 3: Outdoor Date/Activities

The sky was clearer than ever tonight. The grass was barely disturbed by the light breeze as Lunae and Satoru lay spread out and looking up toward the blue-black heaven dotted by an endless sea of stars.

"I wonder how many planets we can see right now," Lunae murmured, brown eyes fixated above her. Satoru turned his head to look over to his girlfriend.

"The fact that you're wondering about the planets is adorable and hilarious," he replied, before returning his own gaze back toward the sky. The sky seemed to go on, with no borders, yet they knew if they went further up, that's when they would touch outer space.

Lunae pouted a bit at Satoru's teasing quip before letting out a sigh. "Come on, even you probably wonder what's out there, Satoru," she murmured, keeping her eyes to the sky. The stargazing was her idea of an outdoor date anyway, since it was too warm to not be outside.

"It's probably aliens, you know."

"That's the last time I watch any sci-fi movie with you."

"Liar and you know it."

When Lunae laughed at that, Satoru couldn't stop the grin as he looked over to the brunette again. "Why do you like the night sky anyway, babe? Something to do with those fairytale stories you like?" he asked.

Lunae met his gaze before she turned onto her side, propping her hand against her arm. "Okay, don't laugh--" she began.

"--I promise nothing--" Satoru interjected.

"--You're such a dork. Anyway," Lunae continued, "I always had this fantasy of wanting to be able to be in the sky somehow. Like just floating up there, surrounded by stars." Her cheeks began to flush a sweetly pink. "It sounds so dumb, right?"

Satoru sat up, his eyes on his girlfriend. "Absolutely not. Do you want to?"

Lunae blinked. "I'm sorry--what?"

"Touch the stars. Do you want to, right now?"

"I--you know I'm afraid of heights, right?"

"Do you think I'll drop you?"

"Of course not."

"Good." Satoru grinned, grabbing his girlfriend's hand and tugging her to her feet as he stood up. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders as the other looped under her knees to ease her into a bridal-style carry. "You trust me, don't you, sweetheart?" he asked, grin still in place.

"Of course I trust you," Lunae answered, her arms wrapping loosely around his neck. Her stomach was in knots, though. "Shit, I'm still scared, though."

"Close your eyes," Satoru said, waiting until Lunae finished giving him a curious look at his words before complying. With her eyes shut, he activated his technique, teleporting upward to the sky in an instant. He waited a few beats, though, for dramatic effect (because why not?).

He leaned in close enough for his lips to brush the shell of her ear. "Okay, babe, open your eyes."

Lunae tensed a bit before slowly opening her eyes. Satoru watched every single second of her expression shifting from curiosity to a mixture of fear and shock at how high they really were (and Lunae's intensely cute habit of clinging to him when she got startled that way) to the unmistakable expression of pure awe.

Her brown eyes were wide, her cheeks flushing into a darker shade of pink at how far in the sky they were. "Holy shit, we're high up," she mumbled, her tone just as awed as her expression.

A laugh left Satoru, blue eyes sparkling in amusement behind his shades. "So? Better than your fantasy?" he asked.

"Way better," Lunae answered, braving stretching out her hand. The awe was still on her face, as if she could touch a star with just her fingertips if she tried. Satoru felt pride bubbling inside of him at seeing his girl attempting to conquer her fears and fulfilling a dream she had all at the same time.

"Takes stargazing to another level, doesn't it?"

"That's because you're too extra for your own good, you showoff."

Lunae's tone was full of far too much affection for Satoru to even feel remotely insulted by being called a showoff. Even he was aware of his tendency to do.

Right now, though, he could wear that title of being a showoff tonight if it meant he could put that smile on her face every single day.

[screampied]

sukuna never says “i love you.”

to him, the words are meaningless. he’s been alive for thousands and thousands of years, of course he knows what it means. he’s not stupid, but for some reason—every time it comes out of your little human mouth, his heart aches. you say it so sweetly with the cheekiest grin on your face, not a single care in the world. he hated it. three words, eight letters of pure rubbish. at least, that’s what he thinks to himself. for sukuna, he expresses his love in a different way.

physical touch. flicking your forehead, teasing you, saying things he’d never say to you while you were awake. that was his version of love, he didn’t need those stupid, stupid words. or did he?

“love you, ‘kuna,” you’d pepper another kiss against his cheek. he tchs, the audacity for you to do something so embarrassing. he never says it back but you know deep down he’s got to feel at least something in that cold heart of his. he just has to, after all you did steal his heart in a way. and he stole yours. your eyes always had a glinting sparkle whenever those words would come out and he hated it. his response to you saying you loved him would always be the same.

“yeah yeah,” he gruffs. or a simple, “i know..”

but— there’d be a time where he’d regret not saying it back. a cold, cruel time where it’s just you and him, no one else. except, it would really just be him.

sukuna had a hard time at expression his feelings. it’s not like he hated you—despite his rough, barbarous persona.

he didn’t hate you but he did. it was complicated. it was a struggle trying to put it into words. all he knew was that he loathed how soft you made him, he noticed his behavior would change around you overtime. sukuna’s voice was get more gentle, his shoulders would relax, and he’d always finding himself flicking your forehead for some strange reason. it’s annoying,

you’re annoying.

the feeling was love though, it had to be.

had to be,

so the moment comes where he regrets not saying it back.

it’s something he’d continuously beat himself up over for. because now, here you are, laid all out near the ground in his arms. all four of his arms held you in a tight, cradling embrace and he’s got an expression you don’t think you’ve ever seen before. sukuna’s scarlet red irises were blown and fearfully dilated. his thin nostrils flared up and his slit brows contort in panic and confusion.

sukuna ryomen was scared.

“brat. get up.” he murmurs, three simple words was all he said to you. three simple words but you could barely even hear them.

all you heard was a brief inaudible mumble. you saw his lips moving but barely any sound came out. your body felt crushed, the pain was excruciating. your limbs, they felt like they were on fire. getting up was the last thing on your mind and you’ve probably sone the most careless thing imaginable.

you took a hit for sukuna, a deadly hit that was powerful enough to cost you your life. it’s funny though—all the talk of seeing your life flash before your eyes, and now, being snatched into the inevitable end, you were starting to really see it.

“get up,” he repeats, and this time, a single tear falls right onto your cheek. you meet sukuna’s gaze. the king of curses was a mere mess right before your eyes. he was like this for just you. teary eyed and sniffling, he can’t stand this pain.

you’re being held in his lap and not once does his eyes leave yours. sukuna takes a while to speak again and it’s as if he’s carefully thinking of what to say. time was precious right now, but he didn’t wanna think about anything. his focus was solely on you, his favorite little human.

“can you hear me? say something.”

“you .. you’re gonna get wrinkles if you keep frowning too much, ‘kuna.” you hum, a weak finger stroking against his cheek.

archons, for whatever reason, that little comment brought a smile to his face. you were so annoying to him and yet, he wouldn’t wanna be in anyone else’s presence. everything hurt though,

your body felt scorchingly hot, your pulse remains to ring through your ears and you were wheezing a bit. “hey, hey,” he watches as you try to cling onto his hand. sukuna didn’t know what to do, he didn’t know what to say - all he did do though, was hold you. it was the least thing he could do. your hand was so small compared to his, his long fingernails gently tickling against your skin.

he didn’t have it in him to scold you for trying to protect him. as fragile of a being you knew you were, you did it anyway. you risked your life for him. sukuna let his guard down and you jumped right in the way without a second thought for yourself. that’s what love was, his heart bleeds at the recent flashback before a shaky breath leaves his lips. “this wasn’t supposed to happen. you can’t leave me like this, please.”

“i’m not l- leaving.” you reply, your voice weak and frail. sukuna knew that was a lie. the more you stared at him, how the look of worry on his face paints and marinates his features, he was really scared. you were his everything, his breath of fresh air, maybe even his one true love. “never gonna leave you, sukuna.”

and sukuna lays there with you on his lap. you seem still - too still. right before his eyes, he watches as your body’s temp run cold, final breaths making its introduction. everything was going so fast. he barely had time to react before he realized,

you were gone.

“no,” he whispers under his breath. the demon was at a loss of words. the feeling in his chest, it was indescribable. painful, and tight as he watches the light leave your eyes, something within him leaves also. a part of him. you were drifting away and there was nothing he could do about it. “no.” he repeats against, feeling a dull ache run cold through his body. sukuna didn’t know what to do. he’s seeing red, but perhaps that wasn’t just bloodshed and anger. maybe, maybe it was the one true feeling he was denying all along,

love.

his breaths become heavy once he realizes you’re actually gone. no movement, no cheeky replies, no random “i love you ‘kuna’s,” no nothing. the tear in his heart was enough to make him see the light with you. it hurt horribly, a lump in his throat builds up before he starts to weep. one tear comes then multiple shortly follow, landing past the thin fabric of his sown kimono and onto your lifeless body.

sukuna hated you. he hated how you made him so soft, so vulnerable, so weak. you came into sukuna’s life, stole his heart, and also broke it.

as his eye twitches, his smile had already faded once you left him.

for the first time in centuries, sukuna was defeated. his enemy wasn’t a sorcerer, a curse, or even himself who he believed was his true worse enemy. sukuna ryomen was defeated by four simple letters, love. not only did you leave him in tears, but you also left him with an engagement ring inside his right palm.

he was far too late, he was gonna propose to you. that way, he’d build up the courage to say those stupid, stupid words. opening up his right hand, he stares at the ring he wanted to give you way earlier before this incident even happened. sukuna waited too long, he’d actually plan this for quite some time but again, he was scared.

with a defeated sigh, he surrenders, glancing at you for one last time. no smile on your face anymore but he just used his imagination. there you laid, peaceful, almost as if you were asleep. taking a deep breath, sukuna gives you his last gentle forehead flick before finally telling you the words he’s been longing to say for years.

“i … i love you too, brat. never leavin’ you either.”

[catsoupki]

i think. I THINK. because bakugou is so bad at verbalising all that he feels for you, he goes above and beyond plus-ultra and everything in his actions. he knows he loves you, he thinks about it every time he sees you but he just can’t say it. so what does he do? he covers the table corners when you’re picking something up from the floor. he does your dishes for you even when you didn’t ask. he greets you at the door when you come home and he takes the time to set your bag down onto the cabinet and he bends down to take your shoes off. he prepares your lunch boxes to take to work everyday without fail. when it’s a sunday and you two are sleeping in, he’ll use his head to block the sun from shining onto your eyes so you won’t wake up. so he can cuddle you longer. his actions are always over the top because it’s the result from having all of these iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou bouncing inside his head with no way of escaping and this is the only way they can get out to the world and into you.

[eddiesghxst]

eddie throwing his back out giving you everything he has and ofc it hurts like a bitch the next day and he wants you again and again and again

🫶

ITS GIVING OLDER EDDIE HELLO

18+ — MINORS DNI

————

the next morning eddie’s making breakfast and he dramatically groans whenever he reaches up to grab something from the cabinets until you finally crack and ask, “what’s wrong, baby?”

he just jokingly glares at you and goes, “you destroyed my back, that’s what’s wrong. the last time i had this much sex was in my twenties, i’m not equipped for this.” he grumbles, reaching back to rub at his lower back.

you roll your eyes, stepping forward to slink your hands around his waist, pressing your body up against his back and kissing the bare skin between his shoulders, “for what it’s worth, even though you’ve got a shitty back, your refractory period makes up for it,” you joke, patting his stomach and kissing his back once again, pressing a smile into his skin when he grunts in response.

“don’t have much of a choice, do i? i’ve got a succubus for a girlfriend.”

you hum, “that’s weird, last i remember it was you asking for one more round, wasn’t it?”

you stretch onto the tips of your toes to rest your chin against his shoulder to peer down at his skilled hands hard at work preparing your meal, and eddie doesn’t bother glancing at you as he responds, “not sure, things start to blur after the third big-O.”

you hum as a teasing smile spreads across his lips, “whatever you say, big guy.” you playfully nip at his shoulder and he hisses, batting you away as you giggle, turning to lean against the counter beside him so you’re facing him, “when you’re done with this, come and i’ll give you a massage for your achey old man back, hm?”

eddie glances away from his task to look at you, “that pretty little mouth of yours is gonna get you in trouble.”

you tilt your head with a sly grin, voice smooth and sultry as you speak, “is that a threat, musnon?”

eddie let’s out an exasperated noise and looks at you with narrowed eyes, “can a man cook in peace, please? or at least without you trying to get in my pants like i’m some harlot,”

you raise your eyebrows and motion down to his crotch, the unmistakable print of his hardening length pressing against the seam of his sweatpants, “seems like he enjoys it.”

eddie playfully shoves you away then, muttering for you to get out of the kitchen and you giggle, yelping when he swats at your behind, “ow! what was that for?” you whine, rubbing at your sore cheek. eddie grins, dicing a few onions and dropping them onto the stove, “for being such a goddamn minx. get out of here before i accidentally set this house on fire.”

and even though his back hurts like hell, he still ends up drilling your shit, but you have to take over midway because eddie’s poor back really might just croak on him and he swears if that happens, you’re paying for his medical bill <3

[starsofang]

“No.”

“Oh, c’mon, Johnny. Please? Halloween only comes once a year.”

Johnny eyed you suspiciously, taking in the request you’d laid out on him, which in retrospect, was something he wouldn’t normally deny—he was a kinky guy. But wearing a mask to fuck you, when you could just look at him the whole time instead? Nuh-uh.

“Is this one of yer book things?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow.

You frowned at him, darting your eyes away. “No.”

“It totally is.”

“Okay, yes, it is, but I think it’d be hot! You don’t?” you tried once more, pleading.

Johnny snorted, shaking his head. “What’s not to enjoy about my face?”

“Your face is wonderful, Johnny.”

“…But?”

“You in a mask is sexy.”

Johnny groaned, throwing his head back and blinking up at the ceiling.

Really, the idea was growing on him. A mask, yeah, he could do that for you—might even find it hotter than he thought—but the deep rooted thought of a familiar mask popped up in the midst of it, tainting his mind.

He rolled his head lazily to look at you, narrowing in on the pout on your lips. It was always hard for him to deny you, especially anything sex-related you wanted to try. Hell, he was practically like a dog being thrown a bone at the opportunity.

“I’ve got a better idea,” he murmured, a sadistic grin curling on his face.

It was your turn to stare suspiciously, slowly deflating from your previous excitement and dying down to a curious hesitation. “That’s never good,” you muttered.

“Mm. I think ye might like it,” he replied cheekily, taking a step closer to you. His arm slipped easily around your waist to rest on your back, tugging you into his warmth. “Ye remember Ghost, don’t ye?”

“Ghost?” you breathed, shivering when you felt his lips tickle your ear and drift down to your neck. He hummed against your skin.

He wasn’t serious, right?

He was incredibly serious, unfortunately.

“Happy Halloween, love.”

You could barely peel your eyes open to look at Ghost, only humming a noise of acknowledgment as he got up to leave, Johnny walking him out.

As for you, you were suffering the severe consequences of their bound agreement, body limp and sedated in the comfort of your blankets that Johnny gifted you to boost the ‘Halloween spirit.’

Johnny gave you what you asked for with little struggle, granting you the sweet taste of fucking with a mask on. Ghost was there for encouragement, pulling out his old, trusty mask and sliding it on just for you.

Fucking into you until you were a weeping, blabbering mess to a masked Johnny wasn’t what you pictured when you initially asked the Scot about your fantasy, but all hesitation was quickly snipped from your mind the moment you got a sample of both of them, their eyes peering down at you like you were prey from the narrow slits of the holes cut out for their vision leaving you begging for more.

“Maybe for Christmas, we could be Santa and ye could be our li’l elf,” Johnny teased when he returned, sliding into bed. “‘Tis the gift of givin’ soon, aye?”

He only snickered loudly when that earned a sharp kick from you, hunkering down into bed on Hallow’s night, murmuring about how he wasn’t kiddin’. They definitely could, if ye want.

[studioeisa]

KAEEEE congratulations on 1k omg i can't believe i'm just finding out about this now??? i literally thought u had like 10k ndjdnjd your writing is novel worthy i cant believe you aren't running tumblr already 😔

📱 i would pretty pretty please love to hear more about actor jun if u have any thoughts to spare :3 and congrats again!! here's to many more hehe 🎉🫶🏻💓

high praise coming from one of the best writers on caratblr 😳 and i will always give jun to the world's biggest huihui <3 mwaaa!

📱 boyfriend actor!jun x reader (part one, part two). part of my follower milestone celebration. word count: 676.

Jun has started doing his own stunts.

A part of you knows that your fear is misplaced. He’s training with the legendary Jackie Chan, of all people. Your boyfriend is in capable hands.

Still, you can’t help but worry.

It had always been this way even before he dipped his toes into the action genre. Texts of have you eaten? during long shoots. Encouraging Post-It’s snuck into his coat pocket pre-flight. You worry, and you worry, and you worry, and Jun loves you for it. 

He’ll smile at the texts and force himself to eat something small. He’ll keep the notes in his wallet and reread them when he misses the sound of your voice. He lets you fret over him because you give as much as you get, and he would never say ‘no’ to you.

Even if it can be a bit— overbearing, at times. Jun keeps his eye rolls and scoffs to a minimum as you lather his body in efficascent oils, as you slap pain relief patches on his aching joints. 

“Bit of an overkill, no?” he mumbles. His supposed distaste is betrayed by the way he practically preens when you begin to knead at the knots in his shoulders.

You can only sigh at his attempt to be nonchalant. “My boyfriend is an action star,” you say, your teasing tone edged with admiration. It makes Jun want to swoon. “The least I can do is make sure he’s being taken care of.” 

“You can take care of me other ways.” 

“Shut up.” 

“How about you shut me up by—” 

There’s bickering, and teasing, and your fingers dancing along his sides to get him to laugh, to stop flirting. Jun is bone tired and every part of his body hurts, but he’s never tired of you. Nothing ever hurts when it comes to you. 

Jun can be a hypocrite, though. 

You realize this on an unassuming Saturday evening, a rare weekend where the two of you can just stay in. You’re reading a book by the couch while Jun is absentmindedly scrolling through SNS. When you let out a low, unbidden hiss, he’s immediately snapping to attention. 

“Babe?” he calls, his attention leaving the TikTok on his screen. 

“‘S nothing,” you huff. 

Your boyfriend sets aside his phone and leans forward from the other side of the couch, crowding into your space. “Liar,” he says. “What is it?” 

You extend your hand in response. In the low light of your living room, it’s almost invisible, but Jun doesn’t miss it. The raised, reddish skin on your index finger, put there by the corner of your page. 

“It’s just a paper cut,” you’re saying, but Jun isn’t about to have any of that. 

He’s on his feet before you can complain. “Come back here,” you whine. 

His response of “no!” is muffled as he makes a beeline for the bathroom. He emerges moments later with your First Aid kit, his eyebrows furrowed with genuine concern and determination. 

“Junhui,” you say exasperatedly. 

He doesn’t listen. When has he ever? He kneels at your side and begins to rummage through the kit, mumbling about antiseptics and cotton balls. 

You two could have been done much faster if you didn’t resist him here and there. By the end of it, though, you compromise to a Sanrio adhesive bandage despite the absence of any blood at all. 

“Be more careful next time,” Jun says as he snaps the kit close. He poses the words as a joke, but you can hear the hint of worry in his tone. (He gives as much as he gets.) 

You close the distance to kiss him, and his expression smooths out at the familiar affection. “Overkill,” you tease, murmuring the words against his mouth.

Jun worries. You love him for it. 

At your peck, his lips curl up into a smile that you can almost taste. He doesn’t answer— just grabs your arms and pulls you down on top of him. You go down squealing, and then you’re both laughing until your sides hurt.

It’s the good kind of hurt, though. 

[wandaverse]

playing with fire.

— buff firefighter!wanda x college student!reader

— summary: the 5 times you meet and the 1 time wanda lights a different kind of fire

— tags: pure fluff, major horniness, implied smut

— word count: 1,252 words

1. the first time you meet is late at night when there’s a fire in your dorm.

someone down the hall sets fire to their microwave trying to heat up a burrito. deeply asleep with fatigue from the week’s intense assessments, you don’t hear the screeching alarms.

without hesitation, a chilvarous wanda arrives at the scene and kicks down your door, carrying you out bridal style. wanda’s not complaining, not with the way you sleepily nuzzle into the safety of her neck.

through your sleepy haze you wonder who the buff woman carrying you out the building is, she smells like smoked cedar with faint hints of sea salt. you decide that you like this scent and the warmth that accompanies it.

2. you next meet at a sorority party gone wrong.

your friends get the stupid idea of trying fire breathing. the only thing you end up breathing though is clouds of smoke when your sorority house almost burns down. wanda arrives in the nick of time in her blaring red truck and douses the flames.

something else ignites within you though when you meet her properly for the first time, awake and certainly alert. you take in the sight of her breathless figure after rushing to fight the flames. so this is who saved you that night in your dorm… oh.

wanda is not particularly amused at you and your friends’ irresponsible antics. you shrink under the weight of her disapproving gaze, but also can’t help but cheekily grin. wanda can’t stay upset, she has to admit you look cute with ash all over your face.

3. your paths cross again when you notice a kitten stuck in a tree while studying on your campus’ lawn.

after many futile rescue attempts, you call emergency services and once again your knight in shining armour (or rather, reflective PPE) arrives. she gallantly climbs her ladder and saves the kitten. you don’t deny enjoying the view of her sunkissed skin when she takes off her jacket to swaddle the kitten.

afterwards, wanting to prolong the encounter, wanda asks if you want to ride with her in her fire truck to drop the kitten off at the nearest vet. you excitedly accept her offer and enjoy the trip around the city. wanda secretly steals fond glances at you, looking adorable with the kitten in your lap.

4. the next time you meet is not in the face of life threatening danger, but rather danger to your self-composure.

on a regular trip to the supermarket, you pass the row of calendars and your eyes land on a familiar face on the annual westview firefighters calendar sold for charity. you can’t ignore the curiosity that compels you to take a sneaky peak at its contents.

your cheeks instantly burn red when you turn to february’s page and find your favourite firefighter scantily clad and leaving little to the imagination. standing in a shallow pool of water with flames raging around her, wanda poses with an axe slung across her shoulders, wearing only a black training bra and her firefighter pants. her buff arms and unsurprisingly toned abs are on show as she stares directly at you the camera. you fight the urge to bite your lip at her flexed muscles, her sunkissed skin, the shine of her sweat mixing with ash. you’ve never felt so taken before, you forget your bearings for a second.

that is, until you hear a familiar voice call out your name.

your ears register her presence before your eyes and you quickly shut the calendar, throwing it back on the shelf as if its touch has burned you. you ready to make an excuse until you finally look up and find the firefighter just as scantily clad as, if not more than, her outfit in the calendar’s photoshoot.

wanda approaches you, seemingly in her post-workout fit and you have to stop yourself from drooling at the sight of her sweaty and taut arms and abs, only this time in real life. god, the photo doesn’t even do her justice. wanda calls out your name again with a husky laugh and your blush profusely, realising you’ve been caught ogling her not once but twice.

5. you meet once again when you move out to an apartment near campus and decide to cook dinner for yourself.

you quickly realise that you actually have no idea how to cook when your entire kitchen ends up in flames. wanda arrives just in time and puts out the grease fire. for a second, you can’t help but question fate. it’s as if there’s only one firefighter in all of westview with the way wanda always finds her way back to you. you’re not complaining though.

she turns to you and scolds you for your carelessness, but not before checking that you’re okay and not hurt by the wild fire. your heart secretly skips a beat at the continued display of care. ever the prince charming, isn’t she?

before she leaves for the next emergency, though, she asks you out for dinner instead. unsurprisingly, you say yes.

+1. the evening of your first date arrives.

you’re lounging on the couch in your apartment watching a sitcom when you hear a knock on your window. wanda has climbed up the fire escape and asks to be let in like a lost kitten. you lift open the window with a laugh and she tells you that she’s set up a picnic under the stars on the rooftop. she escorts you back out the window and up the fire escape. you giggle adoringly at her antics.

the evening goes well as you two happily find that the spark between you wasn’t imagined and isn’t going to fizzle out anytime soon. conversation flows naturally and you enjoy the food wanda has cooked for you. she jokes that at least one of you can cook, which earns her a playful slap. but when you reach over to do so, you accidentally knock over a candle and almost burn the entire picnic blanket. the fire is quickly avoided though thanks to wanda’s quick reflexes. she gives you a humuored tsk, but you secretly revel in her display of protection.

the evening comes to an end as the city around you calms down and the stars settle in for the night. wanda escorts you down the fire escape once again and the butterflies in your stomach continue to take flight. when you reach your window, you turn to wanda and thank her for the evening, for thinking of such a lovely idea and packing such a delightful picnic. when you place a goodbye kiss on her lips though and she takes you in her arms, you quickly realise that that’s not the only thing she’s packed.

wanda pulls back and blushes sheepishly at your realisation, but it’s enough to set you off. all night you’ve been teased with the sight of her shirt lifting and showing the slightest glimpse of her abs, the tight fit of her t-shirt’s sleeve around her arms, the simple yet alluringly attractive way she runs her fingers through her hair. she’s been teasing you all night and you decide that you’ve had enough. you quickly engulf her in kisses and pull her boldly through your window.

your night rages on and as the flaming sun begins to rise, wanda pleasantly learns that there’s one particular fire that she just can’t put out.

the end.

[into-fiction]

gelphie - time travel (w/ a twist)

for @c-rose2081

///

The first thing Glinda tries to do is run. She stumbles hard, tripping over too-small feet and too-short legs, crying out in a high-pitched voice when she’s sent careening to the ground. 

“Galinda!” a voice calls, worried and sharp, as gentle hands lift her under her armpits. The world blurs and spins, her chest heaving with panic and disorientation as she realizes, quite suddenly, that something has gone very very wrong. 

Glinda bursts into tears. 

They’re ugly and loud and uncontrollable. She’s horrified by her own emotions, overwhelmed by her inability to stop the torrent. Someone pulls her into their arms, a comforting hold gripping her and rubbing her back as she buries her nose in a familiar scent. 

Momsie. It’s been ages since Glinda was little enough to be held like this. Something has gone very very very wrong. 

“I-I-I need--” But Glinda can’t get her mouth to work, can’t get the words to come. She can’t explain the swirling mess of memories that linger like a bad dream at the forefront of her thoughts. 

Elphie, she thinks, over and over and over. I need Elphie. 

It takes her a while to settle down, long enough that her mother’s grip grows a little too tight and her voice pinches with impatience.

The second thing Glinda tries to do is look in a mirror. 

A ghost stares back at her. A face she hasn’t seen in decades. Glinda’s wide brown eyes rove over her diminutive form, her tongue licking into the gap left by her missing teeth as she tries to stop the panic from taking over again. 

This was not the plan. 

Being back in the body of a child is a new form of torture, one that even Morrible wouldn’t have been evil enough to think up. Glinda’s brain fights hard to process her grown-up thoughts, but her mind is scattered and full of holes, too young to understand the weight of her own feelings. Her chest clenches in anxiety, one of the few things she does remember from this age. 

On that first day, she stumbles to her desk and fills every inch of scrap paper she can find with the childish scribbles of anything she thinks may be important. More than half of it just ends up being green. 

No amount of begging will convince her parents to send her to Munchkinland. They have no idea why she wants to do something so outlandish, and Glinda is entirely unable to explain it to them.

She wakes each night shaking from nightmares her baby brain wants only to repress, her memories smothered in a layer of smoky haze that makes it impossible to remember what is real. 

“Elphie,” Glinda whispers to herself. It’s the one thing she knows she’ll never forget. Green skin and dark hair and a gentle, lovely voice. The loathing and loving and grieving and pain. How could she ever forget something like that?

So the third thing Glinda tries is to run away. 

If her parents won’t take her to Munchkinland, then she’ll find a way there herself. She’ll get to Elphie before anyone else. Before Morrible, before the Wizard, before Fiyero. She’ll make Elphie her friend, and she’ll cross her fingers and wish on stars and hope that she can change things. 

She makes it as far as the end of her driveway. Her nanny comes hustling out after her, grabbing her by the arm and tugging her back to the house.

“What were you thinking?” she gets asked, and Glinda can’t tell them- she can’t, she can’t, she can’t. Her nanny tells Popsicle, who tells Momsie, who takes Glinda into the study that night to remind her of the rules. 

But Glinda doesn’t let it dissuade her. 

She tries again and again, over and over and over, a determination within her that she barely knows the origin of. She sneaks off from school, she escapes from her nanny, she climbs down her window at night. She makes it as far as the train one time, but they won’t let her board without a ticket, and she’s too young to buy one herself. 

At some point, she gives in to the temptation to just walk, setting off down the dirty, dusty road in nothing but her brunch dress and baby heels. She’s too hot and too tired and too sweaty by the time she makes it very far, though, a childish whine building in her throat as she wonders under her breath if it’s really that important. 

After all- Elphie can wait, right? Munchkinland is just so far, and Glinda is so tired, and she’s been wracking her brain all morning, but for the life of her, she can’t remember what’s so important about Elphie that she needs to see her right now. 

She misses her, of course. But Glinda misses lots of things, like her toys and her bed. 

“Galinda, look at your dress!” her momsie exclaims, and after a few hours of lecture and scolding and a stinging behind, Galinda scrubs tears from her eyes and figures maybe running away isn’t really worth all this trouble. She’ll try again, of course, she needs to…but maybe she’ll wait a while. 

A few days. A few weeks. A few months. 

Galinda gets caught up in school and lessons and parties. She gets dragged along to etiquette classes that bat her hands away from the history books she reaches for. She gets totted along to banquets and balls where the well-dressed Gillikenese nobles don’t want to hear anything about Munchkinland. She gets reprimanded anytime her fingers start to itch for paint or pen or charcoal, and she starts to wonder what’s so special about the color green, anyway?

It’s not a very flattering color, after all. Galinda knows it’s the color of the Emerald City, but she’s always been more partial to pink, herself. And Galinda doesn’t think pink goes very nicely with green.

Time slides past, her memories blurring and warping until it takes all her effort to even remember how old she is. Sometimes the answer on the tip of her tongue can’t possibly be right, and Galinda sits in her own confusion for a moment because it feels oddly like she’s forgetting something. 

Like she’s missing something. 

She keeps having these thoughts, these flashes, these dreams. Bits and pieces of things that can’t be real. Flying monkeys? Floating bubbles? She doesn’t understand, and the more confused she gets, the more she wants it all to just go away. 

Galinda does her best to fit in, to keep up, to make her parents proud. She learns to smile brighter and talk more and make friends. She learns how to dress and how to put on makeup and how to do her hair. She excels at everything she’s asked to do, praised endlessly for her maturity, her grace, her intelligence. 

Her teachers call her an ‘old soul’ and she beams at them and tries not to listen to the tiny voice in the back of her head telling her this is all wrong. 

Wrong, wrong, something is wrong. 

Galinda doesn’t know what it could be. Her life is perfect…isn't it?

Late at night, when her parents aren’t watching and the nightmares creep too close for comfort, Galinda sits at her desk and sketches aimless doodles into endless amounts of paper. The gentle curve of a pair of glasses, the pristine edge of a rose. She doesn’t know what they mean, but she knows that they are important. 

There’s a name buried deep in her thoughts, but Galinda can’t quite string the right letters together to give it shape.

“Elphaba?” her nanny says one day. “Galinda, do you have a friend named Elphaba? There’s a letter here for you.”

She holds a small, dirty letter out to Galinda, the edges rough like it’s been through a lot just to arrive at Galinda’s door. She takes it in her hands and tears it open, frowning hard at the messy writing she finds inside. 

“Do you know her?” her nanny asks. 

Galinda swallows hard, her mind tumbling between the faces of her school friends and the strange visions she sees late at night. She shakes her head, but it feels like the wrong answer. 

“I don’t know,” she finally says. “I can’t remember.”

[lovebeatriceplz]

Hiii ! i wanted to know if you could make more Larry’s headcanons??? i love him so much help-

I've been meaning to do this forever but skl started and I'm rlly busy😭

My Larry Johnson headcanons pt. 3 🧚

General and dating

- Fast driver, turns those corners like it's nothing.

- Calls you up at very odd hours of the night/day. Doesn't actually have anything to say, he just wants you to talk to him.

- Enjoys comfortable silences.

- Obsessed with the feel of you, not even in a dirty way. He wants to be in your skin.

- Smells like pine needles and smoke (trust me he told me).

- Wiggles his finger in your ear when he wants you to pay attention to him.

- His humor is either eye watering, floor rolling, perfectly timed comedy or literal dad jokes, there's no in-between.

- Silent treatment does not work on him, you'll end up speaking very quickly.

- Snores like "honk shoo, honk shoo"

- Sensitive scalp, the second your hands are in his hair he's struggling to keep his eyes open.

- Teaches you (or tries to-) anything that he's good at/ interested in. So now you have basic knowledge on guitars, drums , painting, colour theory, video games and.... Hamilton??😧

- He was a theatre kid ok🙄.

- Listens to Mother Mother.

- His love languages are all of them, loves hard.

- Adores gifts, or anything that he receives from you. He's keeping it forever.

- Has ghosting phases, unfortunately. I doubt that they last long (like a day) but he always comes back around.

- Loves matching anything, clothes? Jewelry? Shoes?, he'll do it.

- Licks any part of you he can access then pretends like nothing happened.

- He wants to get close to anybody your close to, and wants to love anything that you love. It's one of the many ways he shows that he cares.

- Silly little guy <3

[flamingtoads]

We shouldn't have watched that movie before bed, was the thought that popped into Karen's mind as she followed closely behind her wife out of their bedroom. The floor boards creak as Hen and Karen stops at the end of the hallway. They pause as a large lumpish shadow cast from the kitchen light rushes out of view, followed with what sounded like a clatter of dishes falling together. Karen leaned closer into Hen, "Did you see that?" Hen's hands gripped tightly around the baseball bat, preparing herself for what might be waiting for her in the kitchen. "Sure did."

[meanderingwistera]

I have been thinking about the dress Taylor Swift wore to the 2025 Grammys so have this drabble.

Satoru likes seeing you in blue. The color is beautiful on you (so is every color but he already knows that) and every time he sees you in it his heart beats out of his chest like he is seeing you for the first time.

So when you stepped into his view in a little blue dress, his heart stops. His six eyes are all on you and the dress you are wearing. The sloping neckline, the draped fabric on the left side of the skirt. But the most striking part was the small ‘S’ charm on your right thigh.

His hands twitch with the urge to touch every inch of you. Satoru crosses the room in quick strides to you. His arms circle you around you- pulling you into his chest.

“Do you like it?” You ask with a laugh at his sudden clingyness.

“Your beautiful baby.” He smiles down at you, “but it would look better on my floor.”

You scoff good naturedly and push him away. He doesn’t budge and nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck to smell your perfume.

“Marry me.” He says into your skin.

“We are already married Satoru.” You remind him.

“Marry me again.” Satoru counters you, his face out of your neck, his eyes locked on yours.

His brain melts as he sees the curve of your smile.

“As long as you don’t make it extravagant, I am not going to be put in that many layers again for a long time.” You relent and kiss him.

“We can go get divorced,” Satoru says and presses a quick peck to your lips, “then get married again.”

“Can we go on this date before we get divorced?” You ask.

“You drive a hard bargain!” He pouts.

“Yes, but you love me.” You laugh.

Satoru’s grin widens, “Yeah, I do don’t I?”

[svsss-brainrot-blog]

Been tossing around ideas for my next fic and while it’s bare bones at the moment hear me out:

Shen Yuan as the spirit of the Lingxi Caves.

He meets every head disciple as the peak lords prepare for Ascension, and can change his appearance to be a reflection of their own. As the Spiritual Powerhouse of the cell the Sect, nobody goes up without his say so.

He was there for Yue Qi’s imprisonment, muttering encouragement and forbidding the previous QD lord from abandoning him as a student. He was impressed by Shen Jiu’s wittiness and sharp mind. He had a hunch Shang Hua seemed squirmy, later confirmed he had a backbone on business tho. Will make Liu Huan stick to the rocks if he starts acting out too much. Sue him! Those are his boys!

… he had to stop his boys from fighting in the caves, whew, that could have been bad.

…. Why is the mountain shaking????

….. WHY ARE TINY DISCIPLES BEING BROUGHT TO HIM???????!

………….. WHAT DO YOU MEAN THIS IS LUO BINGHE AND DEMONS ARE INVADING THE SECT??? It’s ALREADY time for the plot?!

….. Shen Yuan is going to finally cultivate his own physical form just so he can hit somebody.

Edit to add: I’ve decided the Peak Lords will address him as Lingxi-Jun. Only besties get to say just Lingxi, and only the bestest of besties get to call him by his birth name.

[rizzanon]

if i post platonic drabbles of some dc characters (not just about batfam) will you guys read it 🤔

and i probably might post my orv rambles every now and then as i’m currently rereading the novel 🤫

​

[hotluncheddie]

For the @steddie-spooktober day 14 prompt : bats

rated: T | cw: reference to canon trauma | tags: pre relationship, Steve Harrington look after Eddie Munson

🦇🦇🦇🦇

‘Shit fucking!’ Steve hears Eddie shout. He whips around just in time to see the gas station bell jingle as the door slams shut.

‘Eddie?’ He calls, shoving the chips he was holding back and tossing his wallet at a startled Robin, calling to her and the old guy at the counter that he’ll ’be back!’ Before barrelling out into the foggy morning light after Eddie.

Steve finds him crouched and cowered under a nearby tree, dirt caked on his knees as if he skidded to a stop here in a heap.

He approaches slowly, Eddie’s hands trembling as they wipe at his eyes. His mouth twisted in an angry, upset sort of frown.

‘Ed’s? What happened?’ Steve says, heart breaking a little as Eddie flinches, like they’re back in the boathouse. Steve kneels before him, trying to hunch up small, show he’s not a threat.

Eddie groans. Smacks his forehead with the heel of his hand. ‘The fucking stupid fucking paper bat on the widow!’ He sniffs. ‘The Halloween decoration. I like, it was. It was like I was back there Stevie.’ Eddie looks up at him with wide wet eyes.

‘Eddie.’ Steve breaths, wrapping him up in a hug, squeezing tighter as Eddie shudders out a sob into his shoulder.

Eddie boasted sometimes that he was over it all, on good days when he was as loud and brash as those lunch table rants. So sure that nothing could touch him.

But Steve knows how quickly a day can turn bad. What’s it’s like to fall, to be back in every nightmare you’ve ever know. And feel like you’ll never crawl your way back again.

Once Eddie’s breathing evens out, and he sniffs out a quiet little ‘thank you’, Steve shifts to sit beside him in the mud.

He stares out across the parking lot, into the forest that sits beyond. ‘I met a guy at work the other week. Just started chatting to him because I’d never seen him before. He uh, said he was a sailor, like, in the Navy. And I, and I had to leave.’ Steve swallows thickly. ‘I just left him at the counter. Robin had to finish up with him. I felt so sick. It was so dumb, I scoped fucking icecream, but, I just couldn’t look at him after he said that.’ Steve says with a little humourless laugh. He runs a hand through his hair.

Eddie bumps shoulder with him. ‘Not dumb, never dumb.’ He says, a little smile on his face now.

Steve relaxes, bumps him back, hides his smile in his shoulder.

‘Also, I think you might’ve been being hit on big guy.’ Eddie whispers, pulling at a loose thread on his jeans.

‘Yeah, well, I thought that but, guess I just can’t get with a sailor. Sad.’ Steve shrugs, doesn’t think, just says.

When he looks over at Eddie, his face showing every bit of his stunned silence.

Well. He guesses it was better said sooner rather than later.

‘Yeah, I. Yeah. Both ways, either. Both.’ Steve stammers, feeling hot all over.

‘Yeah?’ Eddie smiles.

‘Yeah.’ Steve smiles back.

They walk across to the Beamer, still parked by the gas pump. Robin can be seen through the window talking to the old guy about something or other, her arms moving as she talks.

Steve laughs. His hand brushes Eddie’s as they walk. Neither of them move away.

🦇🦇🦇🦇

Tag list : @scoops-aboy86 @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @pearynice @marvel-ous-m @thecatkingsthrone

@cheesedoctor @chickensinrainboots

[writing-oof]

Draft Drabbles (silly) from the Pronouns Chain Fic

"Pronouns?" Twilight asks, Twilight's brows furrowed and expression pinched. "Uhm...no thanks."

"What?" Legend asks flatly, a distinct line of tension running through hir.

"It's just--I'd rather not, you know?" Twilight explains.

"You'd rather not…have pronouns?"

Wild whoops from its perch in the tree. "Based."

"What does that even mean?" Four mutters under his breath, and Time pats him on the shoulder consolingly.

Twilight just nods sagely at Wild. "I do try."

[woobiedoovo]

Stan was in love once, forty or so odd years ago, when he was just a boy who didn’t even know what love was.

At that age, love was the person who made you smile. Love was the person who you’d wake up to every morning. Love was the boy whose glasses always slid down his nose because they were one size too big. Love would hold Stan’s hand in his as they dreamed about sailing around the world.

Love, as he got older, got more complicated. Love became something he’d toss and turn to at night, afraid that when he closed his eyes he would see the boy who still meant the word love. Love, as he got older, seemed to slip between his fingers. The harder he held on, the more it seemed to fade.

Love, it seemed, didn’t love Stan the way he loved it.

Love was harsh and cruel, yet he still loved it. To others, love was something soft and warm. But to Stan, Love was something he couldn’t imagine, not anymore. Love was far away, on a long abandoned swing set, telling stories about pirates, treasure, and adventure. Love was something between two boys whose dreams were just that, dreams.

Stan was in love once.