#this is a wip graveyard pull

[breadandblankets]

with those blues on parade (on the sunny side of the street)

Summary:

Six is a natural hunter, for better or for worse. Humans will spend their whole lives trying to find the purpose in it. They make increasingly terrible decisions in an attempt to maybe catch a glimpse of a reason to stay alive. Six pities them, somedays the only thing that keeps him upright is that surety of purpose, built like bedrock into every cell. Or, Glory muses on the shipping business, a new heavy joined Randolph, and Six is loved and loved and loved

please read the tws before you read if you're sensitive to canon typical dehumanization of synth characters thanks!

[rileys-battlecats]

oughgh i hate getting ideas for videos that i KNOW if i started i wouldn't be able to finish, just because of how energy intensive or long they'd be. im being haunted by a music video in my head every time i listen to this one specific song

[poisonhemloc]

Maybe It'll All Be Worth It

I have been meaning to write this since. uh. sept 2022. Good thing i never delete a plot bunny

[killuaisaprincess]

KI DESERVES CAT JELLY

[max-nicoxfandom]

Happy WIP Wednesday ! Here is a first draft/snippet of a random chapter in my long fic I'm working on (don't go looking for it, still unsure if I'm going to post it), bc I think I'm gonna take this part out even if I really like the concept.

Danny is like 6-7yrs old in this

Danny is a weird kid.

That's not to say Dick expected him to be normal when his family took him in. No, even if Danny wasn't still half dead, no one in this family is normal. Not even Duke and Barbara, the self proclaimed normies of the family.

Danny has brought a certain life to the manor, even in death, that has Dick contemplating moving back. Somehow, even Jason has been spending more time than usual there. Arguments have been lessened, the manor has been less creaky and more settled, Alfred even looks a little younger these days.

It's both the fault of Danny's sweet exterior, and the odd green that swirls in the blue of his eyes. Not the same hue as Jason's, but something near to it.

He's a lot like Jason, actually. Dick is sure if Jason had come to them just a little bit younger he'd be the spitting image of Danny.

It's the little things that make them look so similar. Almost everyone in the manor has the blue-green eye, black hair combo. It's everything else in Danny that makes him look exactly like Jason.

Danny likes to wish the moon good morning when he sees it during the day, and insists on opening his curtains when he goes to sleep so the moon can listen to his bedtime story too. He likes to check his stuffed animals for injuries when they fall off furniture. He thanks Alfred for his food, and thanks his food for being yummy. When he leaves the manor, he blows the building a kiss goodbye.

Dick does not tell Bruce that the house pulls itself from the ground, and creaks back.

Sure, Jason wasn't dead (not yet, anyway), but he was so excited to be alive. He had that same disposition to do good to everyone and everything that Danny does. Jason may not be some sort of partial human like Danny, but Jason was Robin, and Robin? Robin is magic.

You don't have to believe in ghosts for them to be real, and you don't have to see Danny for him to exist. On the same wavelength, you don't have to see Robin to know Jason made him magic. It was just the truth. Like how the sky is blue and Bruce is Batman.

Dick is watching his life be changed one step at a time, just like it was with Jason–like how it was supposed to be with Jason–and like it was with his siblings.

He keeps flowers in his car now. He didn't before, he never had a reason for it.

But one time, Danny cried as they passed a graveyard. He was sitting curled up against the window in the back while Dick hummed along to some ballad on the radio. It was peaceful, as things tend to be when Danny's around, and even as the kid cried Dick never stopped feeling tranquil. He knew everything would be okay, Dick would stop at nothing to make his new brother happy again.

“I have no flowers.” He’d said. Dick hadn't even gotten the chance to ask what was wrong. “They'll all be so sad I came by, and I had no flowers.”

Danny's eyes were green when he'd spoken. Green, teary, and filled with more mourning a child should ever understand. Dick's heart broke about a thousand times over.

So now Dick keeps flowers in his car. Whenever he drives past a graveyard he throws a flower out the window, just like Danny does. And if the bouquet dies before he gets to give them away, he gives them to Danny, and he buries them in the backyard.

Green eyed and sad. Sometimes Jason joins him, sometimes Damian does. Dick never feels like it's his place.

This fic also has to do with the cult thing I was talking about sometime ago, and the post about big cities. I kinda regret having this take place in Gotham instead of Amity, but it's too late now (⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠)

Asks and interactions are always welcome !

[ramshacklerumble]

i’ve had this wip for months now that i will occasionally pull out just to stare at because i really like the idea and how it was turning out but my brain did the thing where just the idea of trying to finish it feels like pulling teeth. but i still really like it. so i’m posting this otherwise it’ll just rot in my procreate graveyard. but who knows, maybe someday i’ll finish it.

anyway this is where i remind everyone about how much i love gia and ace, they give me severe brain rot. silly little shellfish. god i get so annoying about them.

[kiestrokes]

Day 15: Don't wanna be your Ex | NSFW

▸ Idol: Jeong Yunho of ATEEZ ▸ Rating: NSFW. Mature (18+) Minors DNI. ▸ Genre: WIP from the graveyard, smut, friends to friends with benefits that dances the line of lovers. ▸ Vibe: this is actually the ending scene to this Yunho, they are friends who become friends with benefits, reader is afraid of ever becoming an ex anything to Yunho and cannot agree to more. It is loosely based of the song by the talented Kiana Ledé. ▸ Warnings: language, illusions to angst that aren't in this section, yearning and reciprocated feelings.

Sexually Explicit Content: kissing, fingering (female receiving), clit stim, probably some fondling, squirting, orgasms (female, I hadn't finished writing Yunho's yet, whoops), sexual intercourse (penis in vagina), unprotected sex with an established partner on birth control it is just not mentioned in the section.

🗝️ Note: Has not beta-ed by me or anyone else. THIS IS A WIP! (it is wipmas) It is not complete; this is very much a rough outline/first run through. I am sorry that it is late, I will catch up once my uterus quits trying to evict itself.

Disclaimers: This is a work of fiction; I do not own any of the idols depicted below.

「 25 Hours: Hard, Soft and WIP-mas Masterlist 」

“Yunho you deserve to be with someone who can be entirely in love with you.”

You accept you’re wrong in this.

His lips are on yours, his large hand stroking your jaw, “I don’t want anyone else, I want you. However, I can have you.”

You groan and wrap yourself around him, melting into his kiss. 

He pulls away finally pressing his forehead to yours. 

“Yunho-“

“You don’t have to be in love with me, as long as you love me the way you always have.”

Tears prick your eyes and you don’t trust yourself to verbally respond so you give him a fervent nod. His happy grin spills the tears collecting in the rim of your eyes and you’re kissing him hard. Hands twisted in his hair, dampening both of your faces as the water flows down your cheeks. 

Yunho picks you up and the two of you are moving towards his room as you pepper his cheeks and chin and lovely throat with kisses. He lowers the two of you onto the bed slowly and you cannot get him close to you quick enough.

Legs wrapping around his hips and pressing him into you. Yunho groans at the contact, head lifting from where he had been leaving marks on your throat to look at you.

“I’ve missed you so much-“ his eyes roll back when your grind your pelvis to his, “this- so much.”

“Yunho,” you breathe needing him more than the current clothed predicament was allowing. 

“Already?” He smirks.

“Yes!”

You tug at his shirt pointedly. Yunho laughs, sitting back to tug it off. His hands rubbing your thighs as you take in his shirtless body. You lift your hips eagerly and he chuckles, tugging off your bottoms in one go.

Your knees close out of habit and Yunho tuts, splaying them open and letting out a pant at the sight before him. You squirm and his eyes flick up as he drags two digits against your folds causing your hips to buck with need.

Yunho doesn’t tease you, he thrusts them into your tight heat just as he slots himself between your legs and leans in for a kiss. You rock your hips into his hand. Nails biting into his bicep and back of his head as he licks into your mouth. His fingers start to work and you moan into his mouth. He pulls back to kiss down your chest. His other hand coming up to exposed your breasts. Your body arcs when he dives directly into sucking them, tongue flicking your nipple rapidly. 

“Fuck! Yunho,” you grind your hips into his hand as his fingers stroke deep into that one spot. 

He moans against your breast, his own body rocking against yours. You widen your legs to pull him closer to yours as his mouth seeks out your other breast.

Your buck at the sensation. Yunho’s breathing is heavy as he enjoys your body and pleasure as much as you do and the thought alone sends you over.

“Ohhh,” your nails dig into his back and clutch his head as you come hard against his hand your hips shaking.

Yunho moans into your breast as you work his fingers. His mouth is on yours as he continues to pump your cunt.

“Need you.”

“Ok,” he doesn’t stop pumping his fingers when he sits back.

His lips parted, eyes lowered taking you in as he unbuttons his pants with one hand and pulls his erection out. Only when he is slanted up your body does he remove his fingers and slide into you.

Your body convulses at his entry and you clutch him to you. Your hands and feet working to tug his pants and boxers down to his knees as his mouth takes over yours again.

You’re coming after just a few thrusts as he strokes into you, your cries and his labored breathing as he buries his face in your shoulder, mumbling incoherently.

Yunho's hips are a steady pump and he coasts you through your orgasm. Clutching at his head, shoulders, neck, legs opened wide for him.

“Harder Yunho, deeper, I need you deeper.”

You gasp. He lifts his head to watch you and as he drives deep into your pussy with a sharp slap. His jaw opens in a silent gasp as you arch off the bed into him. He does it again, and again until you’re squirting against his pelvis.

“Ahhh I want you to come all night.”

Yunho grunts, hand fisting in the nape of your hair to kiss you.

“I’ve missed this so much,” he pants and you seek out his lips.

“Me too, I just missed you. Only want you like this, no one else.”

He shudders against you, hips losing their steady rhythm.

“Only me?” He groans, eye brows furrow, irises glossed with need.

“Oh-only you,” you cry out as he buries himself inside you.

© COPYRIGHT 2021 - 2024 by kiestrokes

All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be reproduced without written permission from the author. This includes translations. No generative artificial intelligence (AI) was used in the writing of this work. The author expressly prohibits any entity from using this for purposes of training AI technologies to generate text, including without the limitation technologies capable of generating works in the same style or genre as this publication. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models.

[acotarxreader]

Silence in the Shadows

Azriel x Reader

Synopsis: Hewn City has been hit by a fresh crime wave, stumping the inner circle as they search for a solution. Azriel meets you in a crowded bar while trying to escape the stresses that the City was supplying him. But after a spur of the moment night together, Azriel is left wondering if the girl he spent the night with is truly all what she seems?

Warnings: Smut, angst, a lil action, typos

A/N: This has been reworked a million times and now I just think I have to post it so it can be free of the WIP graveyard. Let me know what you think of this friends???

--------------------------------------

Azriel allowed his shadows to swirl into the flashing lights of the nightclub deep within the City of Nightmares. Cassian span Nesta around in the drowning music as Azriel leaned on the bar top, watching his friends release some heavy tension they’d all been feeling. His head gently bobbed to the music while taking a deep drink from the heavy bottomed tumbler in his hand. Any and all attempts his friends made to separate him from the ledge of oak he rested against were futile, all until his eyes of the same colour landed on a fae he didn’t know. You moved through the crowd with an ease that rivaled his movements, head slightly ducked, obscuring your full facade. Cassian turned to attempt to pull his brother into the moment only to find the section of bar top bare again. 

“Hello there” You jolted slightly at his soft words from behind you, your hand on the release of the back exit of the Hewn City haunt. 

“Hi” You didn’t look back towards Azriel, your hand pressing the release bar to free you back to the street only to have it reject your request. You sighed, turning back to take in the beautiful Ilyrian, it stopping you in your tracks as much as the locked door. 

“Stuck with us?” He grinned at you and you found yourself uncharacteristically returning the same. Azriel felt an odd sense of calm wash over him, his shadows seemingly floating to his feet, suddenly too lethargic to leap to him with information about the fae in front of him. 

“It would seem so” you shouted back over the music.

“Why leave such a wonderful party?” His sarcastic tone accompanied his outstretched hand while it gestured to the chaotic party scene in front of you both. 

“I was just looking for someone” For a fleeting moment your eyes crossed Rhysand path across the dance floor, so quickly that anyone other than a great spymaster may miss.

“Ah, our High Lord, I can introduce you to him?” Azriel’s best effort to hide is slight jealousy at not being the object of your eyes failed him and another grin grew on your face. 

“Not tonight-emm?”

“Azriel”

“YN” You returned, your voices getting lost in the booming sound system.

“I thought you were looking for him?” Azriel couldn’t help but pick up on that little detail. You blinked away the question, offering your hand out towards him.

“Dance with me instead?” Your own question surprised you and he couldn’t help but accept the offer, Cassian nudging Mor in the background at the sight of their dear friend dancing with a stranger in person. 

The night was spent in the great company of one another, unable to keep from one anothers orbit as you both effortlessly melted into the chaotic scene. You both stayed on the outskirts of the dancefloor, away from Azriel’s family that you observed when Azriel was lost to the beat of the music. The night was escaping both of you quickly, Azriel felt as though he was trapped in a parallel universe where only the two of your occupied. Rhysand passed a large pint glass into his brothers hand as he passed the both of you, bringing Azriel out of his illusion.

“And what will you have Azriel’s lady?” Charisma and curiosity radiated from the towering Ilyrian. 

“Rhys she’s not m-”

“-I’ll have a martini, Rhys, like Rhysand right?” 

“The infamous” He beamed back before shimmying back to the bar top for your order, your eyes evaluating the motion with a scrutinising gaze familiar to Azriel.

“Planning on leaving me for a dance partner upgrade YN?” he called out to you jokingly, your attention being pulled back to the somewhat air of seriousness in the undertone of his voice. 

“You’re holding your own Azriel” You smiled while his hazel eyes heated your face over the rim of his beer, your head tilting temptingly towards him, your teeth grazing your bottom lip. 

You never got that martini from Rhysand. Instead you were liplocked with Azriel as your back was pressed flushed into the front door of Azriel’s Hewn City accommodation. 

Your legs wrap around his torso, your chests clinging to one another as if your lives depend on it, both becoming more hungry in your actions. The pulsating energy between the two of you clouded your brain from the questions that previously sat at the forefront while Azriel’s hands tracing up your back in search of the zipper of your dress took all his attention. 

“Why-are-you-guys-in-Hewn?” You managed between the practically touch starved kissing, trying to refocus your mind. 

“Hewn City is a great stressor in our lives right now” he rushed out before meeting your lips again dropping you down on top of his bed, his hands quickly going to pull his shirt from his chest. 

“What?” you breathed out, pulling at the straps of your own dress, your own question long forgotton.

“You asked why we were here” the sound of his shirt hitting the wooden floor hand your eyes tracing over his vast muscles 

“Emm oh yeah whatever” You reached up for the Shadowsinger, pulling him down to connect back to you with a burning desire you had never previously felt with someone, Azriel sharing the sentiment.

Azriel kissed you sweetly before moving down the shape of your body, peppering kisses along the trail to your entrance. You felt your legs begin to tremble under his touch, begging for more as his fingers began to play with your clit, your hands tangling in his hair with a moan. Your pulse nearly hit the roof, the feeling of pleasure shuddering through you, his rough but delicate fingers entering you, massaging you as they slide to your core. You dig your nails into his bare shoulders, riding his thrusting fingers as he groans at the sight. The tension built in your abdomen, the greatest realess you ever had just a few movements away until he stopped entirely. You looked down between your legs to meet his eyes as he moved to hover above you again, discarding his own trousers in the process. You rasped out what air you could until Azriel’s mouth stole the breath away again. 

Azriel slowly then began to enter you, you both almost meeting your release at the feeling. He slowly began to drag in and out as the sensation grew with its addictive nature, he increased his speed, spurred on by your hitching breath. Your head fell back as you both began to sink into synchronised movement. The pressure growing and growing and growing, your fingers digging into his shoulders as your back arched until the band snapped sending you into overdrive as every nerve in your body stood to attention and then exploded. You practically screamed his name sending him over the edge, returning the sentiment by moaning your name, collapsing next to you while riding out his high. You rolled to your side slowly, your hands tucked beneath your cheek against the pillow, your eyes watch Azriel’s chest try to return the balanced breath he was accustomed to. He raised a shaky hand, a snap of a finger sent a buttery soft sheet to cover you both before he laid that same arm across your waist to pull you in towards him. 

“I- fucking hell I needed that” He found himself laughing as you smiled up to him through your lashes. 

“Stressed out lately Spymaster?”

“You have no idea” Azriel yawned out, missing the use of his title by you. Your smile faltered slightly before a rush of pure panic at what you had just done rattled through your body. Azriel’s grip tightened on you as he pulled you in further into his chest, silencing the rising alarm in your chest, you would deal with the repercussions in the morning. 

-

Cassians fist rattling against the solid door with Azriel’s wake up call had him bolting out of the sheets with the fright, never one to oversleep. He looked back towards the space you had previously occupied now empty. He felt a wash of disappointed at the sight, it stolen away by Cassians yelling on the otherside of the door once again. He would process the night later, he had work to do right now. 

—---------------------------

 “I fucked it”

“Have another drink Az, it was a bad day at the office”

“Except our office is the battlefields and the cursed streets of this fucking city” Azriel took the large stein of alcohol from Cassian, nearly sinking it in one gulp, the rotting bar in Hewn City bubbling around the two cloaked Illyrians. 

“Rhys is up there now trying to fix things with Keir, we’ll find the fifty” Cassian offered, tightening the next written plans of action he had tighter into his leathers beneath the cloak as the bar grew in masses.

“He shouldn’t be cleaning up after my mess, I should know where those Fae are gone” He sank another jug of alcohol before standing, having had enough wallowing, Cassian followed him out into the dark streets. Residents of the City avoided the two figures like the plague as the two Illyrians made it back to where the Court sat. 

“If you go in there, you’ll anger Keir even more, he’s just heard of the influx of illegal medicinals entering the city” Cassian said with a strong but hushed tone, catching up to Azriel with ease. 

“Another one of my blind spots, don’t remind me Cass” Azriel fought the urge to run his hands down his face in disgrace

“You know Rhys has been somewhat…limiting of our use since Nyx was born, the mother hening is preventing you from doing your job” Azriel agreed with Cassian as suddenly an obscured body bumped his brother's shoulder while passing him.

“Sorry” was said muffled by a female voice, Cassain took no notice and continued his stride, Azriel looked over his shoulder briefly to find the figure gone again, stopping in his tracks.

“What?”

“Odd in an empty path they couldn’t avoid you” 

“It doesn’t matter Az-Az!” Cassian’s eyes grew wide as his hand went beneath his cloak to the suddenly cold empty space where the Court papers had been. Without speaking, the two brothers ditched their cloaks and separated in pursuit of the thief. 

They coursed through the streets in opposite directions, passing through the residents like they were made of air. Azriel’s shadows raced ahead and back again, relaying information to him as fast as they flew until they darted down a narrow side street without returning, Azriel’s indication to follow suit. He collided with the hooded figure forcing her against a crumbling brick wall, his forearm flush with her throat as his shadows leapt with excitement at catching their prey. 

“And where do you think you’re going?” he seethed out, jostling the female slightly, given the stress he was under he was very much in the mood to act now and question later. 

“Oh, t-he S-hadow-singer” she rasped out through her narrowing larynx. He snatched the hood from the female, revealing a glowing but sharp young face, she could hardly be more than twenty, Azriel releasing the smallest amount of pressure on her. 

“Give what you have taken and I will leave you live” he chewed out, a smirk growing across her small face. 

“Oh Shadowsinger, you can have it, you are much more valuable” he raised an eyebrow to the cocky fae until a new voice came from behind him.

“For fuck sake Dahlia” was the last thing he heard before being sent into a deep sleep by the lid of a bin from behind.

—----------

Azriel’s head rolled off of his chest as he swung his heavy head back to take in his new surroundings. He shook his head gently from side to size, squeezing his eyes together before forcing the dark and damp room into focus. He moved to stand, the heavy sickly weight of chains behind his back kept him welded to the chair. 

“Don’t struggle, you’ll only tire yourself out” the females voice cut through the darkness, quickly reminding Azriel that this was not his home. A broad male stalked over to him, before catching his chin and forcing Azriel’s head to meet his gaze. 

“I’m not sure if she’ll be happy with this Dahlia” his low growl of a laugh gained an eye-roll from the twenty-year-old female Azriel now knew as Dahlia. He would not forget her name and face, she was to be added to a long list he kept in his head. 

“She’s busy welcoming the new ones, besides he went down like a logged tree Orion, doesn’t really align with the formidable character she portrays him as” Dahlia entered the space next to Azriel as the broad figure released his chin with a jerk

“Let me out of these bonds and we’ll see” Azriel spat, unable to call his shadows to his side. The swift brute force of a gloved heavy hand met the side of Azriels face, blood flowing from his lip on contact. 

“Don’t speak unless spoken to” Orion chewed out gaining another eye-roll from Dahlia. 

“Don’t break the new toy Or” a clear, crisp voice floated to Azriels humming ears from a shaded corner of the room. Azriel noticed Orion's face darken further as Dahlia’s smirk turned into a grin. 

“I thought I asked you to bring an egg, not the fucking chicken” the voice continued, shrouded in shadow as the grin left Dahlia just as quickly to the sharp words.

“Release him back, unless you have anything useful to say for yourself” 

“Answer Shadowsinger” Orion chewed

“Oh apologies, I wasn’t sure if it was only when you spoke to me that I to answer” Azriel's words dripping with sarcasm, Orion's fist took hold of Azriels shirt, almost lifting him from his chair. 

“Huh, cute-” you gave a slight half laugh through your nose “-I hate to interrupt you and Orions flirting but it’s time for you to go” 

“But I just lugged his heavy ass all the way here, you’re not going to even try to get answers from him” Dahlia almost whined out the words like a small child, your eyes never leaving Azriel until a smile grew underneath your bandana.

“He doesn’t have any answers, he has nothing, that’s why he’s not trying to escape, he’s trying to see what answers we have” Azriel felt his own small smirk grow at your words, like two tigers feeling one another out before one would strike. 

“Why not kill me?” more sarcasm comes from Azriel as Dahlia moves towards him, ready to send him to sleep again, Orion releasing his shirt.

“Why would we do that when we’re having so much fun watching you struggle to do your job-” Dahlias smile returning to her “-fancy another sleep Shadowsinger?”

“Don’t fucking touch me” You scoffed again from the darkened corner to his protest, taking the scene in before speaking again.

“Dahlia, darling no more knocking out members of Rhys’ Court unless asked, they make rather annoying prisoners” Something about the way you said the High Lord’s name struck Azriel’s mind like echoing memories, in such a callous but casual tone of familiarity. 

“No, it can’t be” he said so quietly he thought no one had heard him, a sigh left your voice before your boots moved with a gentle thud along the stone, entering the strip of light that illuminated Azriel. You had a scarf pulled up and across your face from the bridge of your nose down, your piercing eyes cut through Azriel with almost an addictive nature. 

“Hello Azriel” you narrowed your eyes over the rim of fabric before simply blinking once, Dahlia crashing Azriel into a deep another unwelcomed sleep. 

------------------------

Whatcha think?

Part Two

[takemetomyfragiledreams]

just another fic in my wip folder about kid!Tim and ghost!Jason:

Tim doesn’t get a chance to visit Robin’s grave until well after the funeral. He’s been waiting anxiously for the press to lose interest in the tragedy that is Jason Todd’s death, made popular only because of the man that adopted him. From what Tim knows of him, Jason would hate it, but Jason isn’t around anymore to call the press out on their behavior. 

It’s been raining a lot since the announcement. Gotham is always downcast; always inflated with heavy clouds and thick smog, but it’s been worse lately. The streets are constantly slick with rain, to the point where flood warnings have been going off on the television for weeks. It’s as if Gotham herself is in mourning for the bird that was grounded too soon. 

The graveyard grounds are thick with mud. With grim determination, Tim trudges through each sucking step. It’s hard work that leaves him panting under his raincoat. The earth itself is begging him to turn back but he’s far too stubborn for that. 

It’s dark which is why Tim thinks he’s alone at first. The flowers left on Jason’s grave are bedraggled from the storm. Tim’s seen pictures of the angel built into the stone but it’s different being so close. The gloom makes it seem taller, more severe. Rain drips down from its praying palms, washing away some of the mud creeping up the bottom of the grave. 

Tim rocks back on his heels as he takes it all in, suddenly unsure of what to do. He’s never been to a funeral before. He’s got no first hand experience with how these things go. There is only the constriction of his lungs, like a vice slowly closing in on his ribs, and the tears he’s cried since he realized the announcement wasn’t just a cover. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, though he isn’t sure what it is he’s apologizing for. For thinking Robin above death? He saw the Flying Grayson’s fall, he should know better by now that no matter how magical a person seems, they’re always going to be left shattered across the ground.

He blinks water from his eyelashes; is it rain or tears? Tim doesn’t know. He places his bouquet of flowers amongst all the rest. White orchids and blue forget-me-nots. You are always loved. You are never forgotten. 

It doesn’t feel like enough. 

He sniffles, sure that he’s crying now, and wipes a hand across his face. “Robin,” he whispers, like the secret it is. 

There’s a wet sucking sound from the other side of the grave; Tim freezes in place. For a moment there’s nothing but the pitter patter of rain, and then comes something like a sob. He approaches the side of the grave hesitantly to peer around the back. There’s a small body back there, curled up on itself and splattered in mud. 

Tim gasps and quickly rounds the grave. “Are you okay?” 

There’s no reply. 

He bends down next to the body. They’re shaking harshly; a flash of lightning shows that some of the patches of mud look darker, almost like blood. Tim hurries to pull his raincoat off to wrap around the stranger. 

“Come on,” he says, shivering as the rain begins to soak through his clothes. “I’ll help you, okay? You just have to walk.” 

There’s no reply but when he stands the stranger stands too. He takes their arm to lead them back the way he came, steps even more determined than before. It’s a task to fit two bodies on his bike but he hardly notices a weight difference. He squints through the rain on his way home, using all his concentration to ensure they don’t crash. His teeth are chattering by the time they arrive at Drake Manor so he can only imagine how cold his guest must be. 

“This is my house,” he explains, as he lets them in. He’s tracking mud across the floor but he’ll have to deal with it later. “Come on, I’ll take you to the bathroom so you can shower. You can wear my clothes.” 

Tim starts the shower for them when they say nothing. He makes sure it’s nice and warm before forcing himself away. “It’s ready. Use whatever you want, I’ll leave you clothes by the door.” 

Again, there’s no answer. 

He hurries through his own shower in the guest bathroom, mind racing with thoughts of what he needs. They’ll need hot food. Blankets, too. What if the stranger is in shock and that’s why they’re silent? He nearly works himself into a tizzy over the possibility and rushes back to his room. 

The shower is still going so he waits. And waits. And waits. 

“Hello?” He finally calls. The door creaks open as he peeks in. The room is thick with steam; he squints at the shape of his raincoat on the floor and looks further in to the shower. “Do you need help?” 

There’s no reply. Tim steps forward hesitantly; he knocks on the glass door before pushing it open a crack. There’s no one there. 

Here’s what Tim knows: there are only one set of footprints on the wooden floor. His bike didn’t feel like it had another person’s body weight on it when he rode home. He doesn’t remember ever touching skin or feeling any warmth from the stranger. They never spoke.

Hallucination? Maybe. But Tim didn’t move the bottles in the shower and he didn’t put his raincoat on the floor. Something isn’t right and he’s going to get to the bottom of it. 

Tim returns to the graveyard the next day. His nose is stuffed up and he’s got a cough from being in the rain for so long the day before, but he’s determined. Someone was at Jason Todd’s grave last night, someone who was definitely a child like Tim. Robin would make sure they were safe; Robin would solve the mystery. So Tim can do nothing less. 

The rain has washed away any traces of last night. The holes his feet left behind have been overtaken by puddles, which leaves him no way to look for a second set. He brings out the little hand held flashlight he brought along to search the gravesite. There’s no trace of anyone. 

Tim rocks back on his heels with a frown. He thinks back over his actions the previous day; he didn’t bring flowers this time, if this is magical in nature does that have something to do with it? He said words too, though he doesn’t think they were all that magical. Either way, he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. 

“I’m sorry, Robin.” 

He cracks an eye open and feels silly when there’s no change. “Maybe it was just a hallucination,” he mumbles. “Robin would know what to do.” 

There’s a gasping sound from behind him. Tim whirls around to find a small figure bent double in the mud. He kneels beside them, hands hovering a few inches away from their skin. 

[snowywinterevenings]

Last Line Challenge

I was tagged by @anxiousotters. Here is a little bit from a fic that I found the beginning of in my WIP graveyard that has now overtaken my brain:

When the door opened again, Cody swore viciously and scrambled out of his bed, sending Boga flying with a displeased hiss as he backed against the wall and collapsed, his shaky legs unable to support him. A skeleton had marched into the room holding a tray, and its empty sockets stared at Cody as if he was some sort of curiosity. He heard a huff of laughter from the doorway and tore his eyes away from the intruder to find Obi-Wan watching him with a small smile on his lips.

“Apologies. I suppose I should have warned you about Arfour.” He didn’t sound sorry at all.

“Arfour?”

Obi-Wan inclined his head toward the skeleton. “Arfour, or Attempted Reanimation Four, helps out around the manor.”

“You’re a necromancer?” Cody hated how his voice sounded and that his heart was threatening to beat out of his chest.

“Oh no, nothing so Dark as that. There is no soul attached to the bones. They can simply move around with the aid of the Force. Pulling souls from the Force and attempting to place them in a body is the sort of forbidden magic used by the Sith.”

“So you just stole someone’s bones and you’re not being haunted by their angry spirit?”

“I did not steal them. They were here when I arrived, and as I said, souls are not attached to bones. When someone passes away they become one with the Force.”

Open tags today because alas I must get ready for work. Share what you’re working on!

[myokk]

WIP Tag Game

Thank you for the tag @okeydokeylackey !!!! I LOVED YOUR SNIPPET & everyone should DEFINITELY check out your art/writing (I know I always love seeing it on my dash🥹🫶)

Rules: Share a snippet from whatever you’re currently working on, and then tag 5 people.

***DISCLAIMER THESE ARE ALL TYPED UP STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS AND UNEDITED BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAH***

Oneshot:

A beetle slowly makes its way across Sebastian Sallow’s desk.

The classroom is silent - save for the scratching of quills furiously calculating the Arithmatic probability of who will be the next Minister and the quiet murmur of his professor as she helps Hobhouse (how did he even get into the N.E.W.T. level?) - and Sebastian is going absolutely mad.

He counts how many seconds it takes for the beetle to reach his abandoned quill (fifteen). But, when it takes its seventh step after making it over the quill (an auspicious sign), Sebastian slams his hand down on top of it.

The loud noise echoes through the silent classroom and Sebastian hears her snickering coming from behind him as the whole class turns to see what has happened. His ears turn red, he wishes he could jinx her somehow, and yet he is terribly curious to see what she has sent him this time. Sebastian hopes that everyone has gone back to their equations and stops staring at him, because now that it’s in his hands, his fingers are itching to open it. His hands eagerly - shamefully eager, if you ask him - unravel the note he’s crumpled up in his hands - almost a shame that he destroyed the beetle, it was one of her better creations - and Sebastian soon curses his haste.

His ears would be an even deeper shade of red were his blood not currently draining to a different part of his body. Sebastian shifts uncomfortably in his seat as he continues reading the note, his eyes flying across the tiny note once, twice, three times before he crumples it up and adds it to the graveyard of the other notes she has been sending him all day. The words fuck my soaking cunt flash up at him and he adjusts his schoolbag so that if anyone walks past and looks into it, they won’t suspect a thing.

You see, this has been going on all day. Sebastian knew that when his seventh year started, it was going to the culmination of their academic rivalry, but he never expected this. That witch has made taunting him her personal vendetta, and it’s working.

Sebastian can’t get her out of his mind.

FIC - CHAPTER 25: (honestly I might delete this scene or save it for later)

She wanted him to hate her.

Hatred wasn’t what she saw in his eyes now, though.

Almost as if she were watching herself from afar, not in control of her body, Eloise came to a stop in front of Sebastian and looked down at him. The green light was highlighting his face and he looked ethereal, otherworldly. She watched her hand reach out and touch his cheek - hesitant, unsure - and when he didn’t jerk his head away as she expected - as she deserved - she moved to sit down next to him in the tiny space. Her knees bumped into his just like their noses bumped against each other as she moved her face towards his. Still, he didn’t move away.

She felt his warm breath fan across her lips. Maybe they stayed like that, lips not-quite-touching, for an eternity; maybe it was only a second. Eloise was only aware of Sebastian’s intoxicating presence, of the way his breath hitched when she finally bridged the gap between them, of the way her heart surrendered itself to him. This kiss was nothing like what they had shared before. It was hesitant, soft, sweet. His hands came up to her face, holding her in place as he deepened the kiss.

Eloise didn’t know what had gotten into her - she was supposed to be avoiding Sebastian, hating him, and yet she couldn’t pull herself out of his embrace. She was melting into his touch, his thumbs brushing themselves down her cheeks, her neck, fingers going through her hair, over and over as if to reassure himself of her presence, his lips moving languidly against hers. Eloise sighed into his mouth, almost-smiling but not-quite: she was nervous, as complicit as he was in this kiss, maybe even more, considering she had been the one to reach out first. But then -

Sebastian pulled away from her, puzzled, his hands moving back to cup Eloise’s face. He was saying something, rough thumbs gently brushing away the thick tears rolling down her cheeks. When had she started crying?

NO PRESSURE TAGS: @holdmymallowsweet @writing-intheundercroft @morelikeravenbore @sav-less @gothic-lottie @kay9leo @celestial--sapphic @libellule-ao3 @anomalyaly AND ANYONE ELSE WHO WANTS TO DO IT IM SERIOUS !!!!!!!!! I CAN NEVER THINK OF WHO TO TAG & I WOULD LOVE TO SEE LITTLE EXCERPTS OF YOUR WRITING🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶

[explosionshark]

i don’t go here but i wanna know about Arcane toxic smut #1 for the wip game! toxic how 👀

Okay so I have to explain. In arcane season 2 the characters that have made me insane (Caitlyn and Vi) briefly get together (sort of?) and then have this horrible, explosive breakup right after.

Vi deals with this by turning to binge drinking, self isolation, dyeing her hair and getting the shit beat out of her in an underground fighting ring (hot).

Caitlyn deals with it by fucking a subordinate and also by becoming a liiiittle bit of the head of a police state influenced by a hostile foreign power to ruthlessly hunt down the criminals responsible for the attack on her city that took her mother's life (also hot). It sounds bad but there's nuance okay - she was really sad and she looked good in her evil little cape.

The show resolves this some months later by having Caitlyn and Vi reunite in an encounter that ends with Caitlyn betraying her evil allies to help Vi. That betrayal includes a plan that requires Vi to pose as her captive in a scene that involves hitting her in the face, blindfolding her with a hood and leading her around in handcuffs.

LOOK, I KNOW

So Toxic Smut #1 was built around the idea of revisiting those really loaded dynamics before the two characters were able to really resolve their issues and reaffirm their relationship. The seed of this idea later grew into my fic It's A Long Ride (Tell Me You're Ready) minus the kinkier bondage elements.

Ultimately this one fell apart bc I couldn't take it seriously - this is why I don't write PWP most of the time. There was no place in the timeline I felt I could comfortably fit it and the premise was a little too out there for me to buy into as it was.

I ended up using a couple sections in my other fic and the concept is one I might return to at some point but for now it lives in the graveyard

Excerpt below (included the initial prompts I was attempting to integrate and some notes)

35. “does that hurt?”

22. “stop looking at me like that!”

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Caitlyn mutters against Vi’s cheek, lips drifting up from her mouth, across her face, landing on her temple.

Vi spares a thought for pretending she hadn’t heard, her fingers busy with the stupid clasps on Caitlyn’s jacket. She can’t help but notice that, despite her words, Caitlyn hasn’t stopped the trail of wet kisses she’s dotting from the place behind Vi’s ear to the column of her neck. Typical of her to say one thing, do another — it frustrates Vi enough to have her pull back, sneer up at her, “That mean you wanna stop?”

Caitlyn doesn’t really, that much was clear even before she got that stupid, wrinkle in her brow. She waits a beat, frowning, and sighs out, “It’s just that… We haven’t even talked about��”

“You gonna leave?” Vi asks, cutting her off. Caitlyn’s right, of course — they probably shouldn’t be fucking at all. Definitely shouldn’t before they get a chance to clear things up. But Vi doesn’t really want to talk right now — she wants to get off. She’s throbbing with want, can feel how hot and damp she is, briefs clinging to her like a second, constricting, maddening skin. And talking would be an absolute mood-killer. “Call it off?”

Vi has a memory from when she was a kid — taking a fall through a splintered floor of some derelict old building in the Lanes. She can hardly remember the specifics — fucking around on her own just like Vander always warned her not to, not paying attention to where she was going. Really all she remembers is after: choking on dust, breathless with pain, dazed by the fall. Limping home, embarrassed, scared, angry at herself; locking herself in the bathroom and pulling the splinters out herself, dizzy with nausea and agony. As miserable as removing the splinters had been, the aftermath was worse — she can still taste the rag between her teeth, hear the fizz of the peroxide when she poured it over the wound, the stinging pain of scrubbing it down under the faucet to clean it. Her leg had been a raw, aching mess for weeks.

Vi’s chest goes a little tight, even now, just thinking about it.

And honestly that’s what the idea of talking with Caitlyn feels like right now.

She’ll do it eventually because she has to, there’s nothing else for it. But it’s going to fucking suck and she sure as hell doesn’t feel like it right now.

There's too much to do right now to waste time picking over that old wound. There's her sister in a cell somewhere right now, there's Ambessa and her armies gathering their strength, there's the miserable, greedy maw of Piltover poised open, throat gleaming asking for more. More bodies, more blood, stand with us this time, you might get something out of it if you behave.

And despite it all, Vi can't help the fact that part of her just wants this. Caitlyn’s attention, Caitlyn’s hands on her body, her breath in Vi’s mouth. She wants to be touched by someone not trying to fucking kill her for a change. She wants something to feel good for five fucking minutes—

“Am I going to leave?” Caitlyn repeats, voice taut, snapping Vi out of her thoughts. Her face has gone carefully neutral in the way it only really gets when she’s pissed the fuck off or terrified. Vi wonders if Caitlyn realizes she’s digging her nails into Vi’s skin from where her hands had slipped up behind Vi’s jacket.

“You wanna talk so bad, we can do it after,” Vi says, shrugging, grateful when her voice comes out detached, cool, no hint of the itchy panic scraping the back of her neck. “Unless you’re about to bail again.”

Caitlyn frowns, severely. Vi can't help but wonder if she's feeling guilty or offended by the question. Probably both. “I’m not.”

“You’ve done it before,” Vi can’t resist needling her, even though it sounds petty even to her own ears. It’s not like it isn’t true. It’s not like she doesn’t deserve it.

“I’m not,” Caitlyn repeats, taking a step closer as if to prove it. She presses the flats of her palms into the small of Vi’s back, pulls her in so that their hips are touching again. Her voice, barely more than a puff of air, as she gazes down into Vi’s face. “I just don’t want to be something you regret.”

“Too late.” Vi says. Caitlyn flinches, darts her eyes away, lips tugging downward for the briefest moment before she nods, schooling her expression. Vi wishes it felt better than it does, to land a barb like that.

“I’m sorry,” Caitlyn grits out. “For— for all of it. I know, I—”

“Just… shut up,” Vi groans, darting forward kissing Caitlyn hard, again. “Do you want this or not?” She wants it to come out demanding, rough, but even to Vi’s ears the words sound too much like begging. Vi swallows hard and steps forward, grabbing Caitlyn’s wrist and yanking it towards her, rocking her hips up into Caitlyn’s hand between her legs to get her meaning across.

It’s crass, almost clumsy but it gets the job done — Caitlyn’s eyes darken, her nostrils flair, her lips part as she sucks in a gasp, swaying forward into Vi.

It’s good, Vi thinks, letting go of Caitlyn’s wrist and feeling her take over the movement, making a fist and pressing her knuckles hard against the seem of Vi’s pants. This is what she wants, has wanted — to make Caitlyn snap. To be pulled in close, rough, to be made to pay for everything. For all of it. For mouthing off. For wanting so much. For being so weak.

“You’re sure you want this?” Caitlyn mutters, voice low and smoky in Vi’s ear, but her eyes, when they search out Vi’s gaze, are clear, serious.

The underlying questions is, of course — why would you?

Caitlyn betrayed her, abandoned her, lied. She changed, became the very force she once swore to Vi she would shelter her from.

What happened at the commune wasn’t nothing, but does a too late crisis of conscience really undo all the hurt and distance and resentment that’s built up in the weeks since Caitlyn left her behind?

What kind of person would still want the woman who put them through all that? What kind of damaged idiot would let her ever have another chance?

Rather than answering, Vi leans forward, stretches up a little to press her mouth back into Caitlyn’s. The kiss is rough and thorough, and with her hands buried in Caitlyn’s hair, it’s easy to guide her the way Vi wants her. She leans in heavily, takes desperate sips of air through the corner of her mouth in the brief seconds that their lips disconnect, not letting up until she finally feels Caitlyn surge back into her, nails scratching down the skin of Vi’s back.

Finally, breathlessly, Vi pulls away, catching Caitlyn’s bottom lip between her teeth and biting down hard enough to make Caitlyn wince.

“That answer your question?” Vi lets her voice drip out like bitter, dark coffee, gritty and thick, a battery acid bite to linger on the palate.

Vi can’t help but feel a surge of pride and arousal at the slight flush to Caitlyn’s face, bottom lip swollen and red, the heavy breaths she can’t quite disguise as she pushes forward, crowding Vi back against the wall. And god it feels good — Caitlyn’s hands, those long strong fingers framing her face, the subtle pressure as she tilts Vi’s face back, her mouth up, sweeps her tongue past Vi’s lips and into her mouth like she has every right to, like _______

Vi sinks into the kiss. She lets her eyes slide shut, can’t quite hold back the embarrassing little moan that slips from her throat when Caitlyn’s hands card through her hair, or the way she shivers despite herself when Caitlyn smirks against her mouth at the sound.

“Violet,” Caitlyn’s eyes are hooded, when she pulls back a little, lips slightly parted like she’s poised to speak. Vi can’t help the way she tenses. Don’t ruin this, she thinks. Shut up, don’t ruin this. But Caitlyn just sighs, leans her forehead into Vi’s and whispers her name again. “Vi…”

Something shifts in that moment, with Caitlyn’s eyes staring down into hers. She brushes her lips over the scar on Vi’s eyebrow delicately. Rubs the pad of her thumb over the swell of Vi’s cheek, where the butt of her rifle had bashed it. She noses her way along Vi’s hairline, kisses the shell of her ear, breath a soft warm tickle over Vi’s skin and she can’t take it anymore, twisting her neck and capturing Caitlyn’s mouth again.

It is a soft kiss. Gentle, almost chaste and the way Caitlyn hums softly against Vi’s lips makes her chest clench painfully.

She tries to fix it. Slanting her mouth against Caitlyn’s with more force, letting her lips drop open, tugging Caitlyn against her harder, gripping fiercely on the other woman’s hips.

It’s not enough. Caitlyn lets Vi draw her in close, she lets Vi plunder her mouth, but she remains steadfastly, devastatingly tender. It feels so much like it had the first time, in the tunnel, Vi feels her lungs tightening, her breath shortening, her eyes going hot and watery. She thinks about that moment, how she begged — promise me — and Caitlyn—

I won’t.

Was it a lie, then? Or just a clever way to dupe some Undercity rube who would only hear what Caitlyn wanted her to hear? It didn’t matter, in the end, whether Caitlyn was a liar or if Vi had just been too stupid to see the truth — it had all come apart anyway. In the end, it had worked out like things always did. Vi had been left alone, bruised, discarded like so much Zaunite trash. She had been so, so stupid.

With a groan of frustration, Vi shoves Caitlyn back. She’s not expecting it, stumbles but doesn’t trip, looks at Vi with a stricken expression. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

“This isn’t working,” Vi mutters, turning and wiping her eyes discreetly with the heel of her palm, trying to make it look like she’s brushing her forehead instead.

“Vi?” Caitlyn’s voice is shaky, face a study of woundedness and concern. “What did I do?”

She's so earnest, so convincingly genuine it makes Vi’s stomach ache. It makes her want a drink. It makes her want to go back, to find a way to stop everything from falling apart in the first place.

“Are you okay?”

“I'm fine, I'm fine.” Vi grits out, frustrated. She hates the way her heart won’t stop racing. The way Caitlyn won’t — “Stop looking at me like that!”

Caitlyn grimaces, half turning on her heel. She rubs her palms along her thighs, craning her neck over her shoulder to glance at the door. “Should I—?”

“Caitlyn, I swear if you ask me one more time if I want you to go, I'm going to lose it,” Vi runs a hand through her hair, tugging hard enough to send spikes of pain along her scalp. Weirdly, it helps — a dull bit of pain that bites through the noise in her head that’s been making her panicky, skittish. “That's never been what I wanted.”

“Okay. Okay. I’m not going anywhere.” Caitlyn’s voice is steady. “What can I do? What do you need?”

It’s cool water rushing through her. The question she’s been waiting to be asked. Go figure that when it finally happens, her throat sticks, tight, wordless. “I…”

“I want to give you what you’re looking for, Vi. Whatever that is. I mean that,” Caitlyn whispers. The look on her face is fierce, wanting, the lines of her body tense with desire. “Tell me what you want.”

Vi doesn’t let herself second guess this time. She blurts out the first thing that comes to mind, “Do you have another pair of cuffs?”

Caitlyn, to her credit, only takes a moment to blink before answering. “Not here.” She pauses, biting her lip, casting her gaze around the library. “But you could tie me with something else.”

“Not for you,” Vi corrects, feeling herself flush.

“Ah,” Caitlyn breathes and then clears her throat. “I owe you, huh?”

“Yeah,” Vi grunts, watching mesmerized as Caitlyn transforms again before her.

That tension she’d been holding unspools, her body going loose and languid.

“Then I’d better get you what you asked for,” Caitlyn says

-

Makeout sesh becomes too much like the moment in the tunnel. Vi can’t relax into it, feels too raw and vulnerable. This is when she asks for the cuffs.

C: it this a good idea?

V: probably not. But it’s what I want. And you owe me.

C: —-

V: if you don’t like it then leave

C: dammit I’m not going to leave again

-

^This is veeeeery rough work though and the first thing I attempted to write in the fandom so please be gentle with your evaluation. The better version of this fic exists and is linked above

[court-jobi]

AAAAH i love your bakugo x biker!reader series every time you post a new story I get so excited their relationship is so cute and your writing is so compelling I just have to read them over and over again

Awwww anon!!! Thank you so much!!! That is high praise, and I appreciate you sharing your love for them so much~ Methinks I need to start a little timeline for that sweet n' spicy reader... and perhaps give you a lil sneak peak into an idea I've had recently where biker!reader is a bit cheeky... all in good fun, right?

To catch up on this series and my other MHA fics, check it out here!

Bakugou x biker!reader WIP incoming...

Picturing UA holding a Work Study Expo -a new initiative by Midoriya to help connect would-be heroes with Pros they may not know yet; namely for the hero courses, but also with added attention for the support students!

Enter our darling biker!reader. Reader is sandwiched by Kirishima and Bakugou to come attend-- the boys both RSVP with a unanimous 'yes' seeing a UA reunion tour in the making, with Bakugou particularly excited to take you there to see his former school since you'd received your secondary education elsewhere.

You're happy for it too; gives you just a little more insight into the place that had a large part in building him up to the hero status he is today...

...until the three of you are checking out the figures across the reception space-- and you freeze when you spot someone. Kirishima clocks it as a starstruck response and despite your harshly whispered word of denial, he makes off in golden retriever fashion to go get them.

Bakugou would be... a bit intrigued to see this reaction from you. Not that you weren't allowed your idols (even though he feels no one holds a candle to Allmight by default), but he was curious as to why you would look so... antsy. It wasn't quite a 'Deku' level of floundering - but that purposeful squaring up of your shoulders and avoidance of his eye contact altogether gave him cocky cause to tease you further.

"What, scared to meet your heroes? Figured you'd be plenty used to that by now."

"Shush,heisnotmyhero."

"Oi--" Bakugou cocks his head to the side, effectively forcing you to look at him over your predicted line of sight. "What's your issue then, angel eyes?"

With an unavoidable storytime bubbling in your gut, you run the risk to see if you can sum everything up for him by the time Kirishima comes back-- or at the very least, figure out the nearest exit to gracefully disappear to for the next fifteen minutes or so....

You pull him aside lightly by the wrist, closer to one of the tables of handouts for the event.

"Okay... You have to remember one thing, promise?"

"Yeah?" Bakugou chimes back, entertained.

"This happened before I met you."

His interest doubles, but smile falls, "...yeah?"

"I have not thought about it one day since.."

"... yeah?"

"Remember how I told you," you tread lightly as some students pass you by with some excited waves, "-when I transferred here, I had to work with that proviso license from the Commissions office 'cuz of the whole 'double-triple-check' applicants' liabilities clauses? And mine took forever and a day, because of all those traffic violations that were completely legal where I was last stationed?"

"Uh-huh."

"And that meant I took nothing but graveyard shifts for the first, like, six months... so I basically broke ground solo before the agency could pick up my contract?"

"Uh-huh...?"

Reader sets the scene for a particular alleyway they'd been stationed at, something of a traffic stop role and in prime position for hopping onto the freeway if needed. Helmeted with your visor up, you could keep on coms while getting a little bit of fresh air to keep you awake.

But it's also the sort where villains make their playground meetups and cause some trouble for unsuspecting folks. It's easy work- though trouble could crop up at any time....

Enter the hero you caught sight of across the room: the man you'd watched string up a trio of baddies so expertly, you knew they were never gonna get anywhere near you, so why flinch?

The hero who'd snidely commented how he coulda appreciated the help, but who you assured with a saucy 'you had it under control, hon'.

The hero who you proved yourself to by jumping into action together in a bit of an impromptu high-speed chase.

The hero who ultimately caught your name, but chose to call you 'Speedy' after your impressive performance. Who said you were no rookie like he thought.

The hero who chipped the lip of your helmet in thanks and patted the rear of your bike in a casual move before setting off into the night again, sufficiently making a mark on your fluttering heart as your new favorite hero of Japan.... who you cannot believe you with and who is now approaching over Bakugou's shoulder:

"... AIZAWA?!?"

"Eraserhead," you corrected gracefully.

A flurry of emotions crossed Bakugou's largely incredulous face, though he settled on merely repeating,

"You flirted... with Aizawa?!"

Forcing Bakugou to lower his volume was a lost cause, but you could control yours, "I had-not-met-you-yet-- remember that!"

And was it considered flirting? You could barely get a read on the guy

"Nah, I'm still stuck on my fucking teacher hitting on you... and you called him what?? You know how fuckin' old that guy is?!!"

"Thirty-nine." you fire back immediately.

"--HEH?"

And you can't stop-- though you have the gall to look a little sheepish.

"Scorpio. Ambidextrous. Has a white cat named after the title character of Samurai Jack."

"...."

"Went on Present Mic's show a few months back.. not that I had a notification or anything for when it aired-"

Bakugou stands in a rare moment of silence. Disbelief, rage, shock, and maybe something heated lay behind his eyes, but you honestly can't tell which is going to win out.

".. you're fucking with me."

"I am not."

"

"Absolutely not! Kats, he is never going to single me out of an entire room here, and think back to one patrol night out of thousands, that's ridicul--"

"Bakugou... 'Speedy'."

Alongside Kirishima's proud presence who had been anxiously awaiting this interaction stood Aizawa: fitted with his off-hours eyepatch but who clearly did -in fact- remember you.

As long as you avoid Bakugou's absolute stare of death, you can properly school your reaction to be one of perfect charm; as always when meeting other Pro-Heroes. It's not like you still hold any feelings whatsoever with this man... but you'd truly rather have this conversation anywhere else than beside your darling Katsuki, who's about to blow up if you so much as smile at his former homeroom teacher.

"Should I be scared that you remember me sans helmet, or flattered?" you offer pleasantly.

Aizawa gives a little bow to you before straightening up with a smooth reply, "I never forget a face."

If looks could kill, Shota Aizawa should be collapsing on the spot under Bakugou's eye. And even if you think it's a harmless comment, you know for a fact you'll be paying for it later.

--Scene--

To be continued, m'loves?

TLDR; Bakugou:

[fivie]

wip word game

Tagged by @kvothes, thank you!! My word is DREAM. I pulled these snippets from Across the UMWverse (chapter 25 and the various alternative POVs I'm currently working on lol)

D – “Do it,” he says, before the whiskey burning in his belly can fade and probably leave him too chickenshit to go through with this. What does he need a fucking soul for, anyway?

R – “Really?” Bahorel says. “Thought he'd like having another child to play with.”

E – Enjolras has never really believed in anything like karma, or cosmic justice, or whatever. But then, he'd never believed in angels, either, and those had turned out to be alarmingly real, so maybe he'd been wrong about that other stuff too, because he's almost sure the world is fucking laughing at him.

A – “As for Bahorel, I don’t know. Send him to that graveyard he banished us to if he gets too annoying.”

M – “Maybe he's getting better at hiding it. But I bet it makes his skin crawl whenever you touch him. You and your stolen, dead hands.”

I'm tagging @shamedumpster and @tenderwulf if you guys feel like sharing some snippets :) your new word is ANGEL 👼

[dykekarkat]

signalis 30% off...maybe i should pull that andreil wip out of the graveyard i need to start getting Serious about robot lesbianism.

[kiestrokes]

Day 9: Accismus | NSFW

▸ Idol: Kang Yeosang of ATEEZ x best friend/fiance!Reader/You/Yn ▸ Rating: NSFW. Mature (18+) Minors DNI. ▸ Genre: another WIP from the graveyard, smut. arranged marriage AU. ▸ Vibe: Yeosang and OC have been friends since thirteen, meeting at a Gala both of their families were attending. Yeosang's grandmother has requested the two of them marry by age twenty-five if neither has found no other suitable partner. ▸ Warnings: mutual pining, original character pov (she is unnamed at this time), some cursing from reader, Yeo is an angel and would never curse.

Sexually Explicit Content: semipublic sex (they're in Yeosang's grandmothers guest house), kissing, biting, sexual intercourse (penis in vagina), missionary and cowgirl positions, no condom, Yeosang does pull out, some mild orgasm control (OC to Yeosang), sexual tension.

🗝️ Note: Has not beta-ed by me or anyone else. THIS IS A WIP! (it is wipmas) It is not complete; this is very much a rough outline/first run through. I wrote this last summer sometime, but lost my steam to finish it pretty quick due to a position change at work.

Disclaimers: This is a work of fiction; I do not own any of the idols depicted below.

「 25 Hours: Hard, Soft and WIP-mas Masterlist 」

Yeosang finds her sprawled out hiding in the pool house and trails his fingers up her bare leg.

She groans, "Yeo please, I'm overstimulated enough."

He sits down beside her on the daybed to remove the arm from across her eyes, she blinks at him. Quietly noting the lust in his eyes, how his shirt is unbuttoned, the sleeves rolled up and when she makes it back to his face she gasps as he leans down to kiss her for the second time today.

"Yeosang,'' she moans into his mouth, hands diving into his hair.

He groans back, hand cupping her face and pulling her up against his body. She climbs partially into his lap and he moans collecting her to him.

"All day, you've driven me mad with your shy responses to me," he huffs as she tilts his head back to kiss down his Adams apple.

Yeosang moans and fists her dress in desperation to have her full weight on him.

"ME!"

Yeosang wails in frustration when she pins him to the back of the headboard, lifting his hips so she falls into place completely straddling him.

"You have been tormenting me for weeks with all your little touches Yeo!"

He smiles smugly at her, "I know, and you're so cute when you're flustered."

She gapes at him, "Yeo-"

"I don't want to argue, please it has been a long day, come here and let me release both of our tensions."

Yeosang begs, tugging her up his body and straining against her arms to close the distance. She relents and Yeosang's hand dives into her hair devouring her in a kiss. She whimpers and whines and Yeosang can't take the little noises. His hand tightens in her hair to press her harder into his lap.

He moans her name.

She huffs at his blatant display of need, "we're in your grandmother's pool house!"

Yeosang kisses and nibbles across her clavicle, rubbing himself against her like some hormonal teenager.

"She's lying down for a nap, and the curtains are drawn."

She meets Yeosang's eyes, seeing how fucked out he is before his head tilts worriedly.

"We don't have to do anything you don't want to do."

She groans, pressing her forehead to his, "Yeo, I want you more than you want me, I want this."

Yeosang dips his head to kiss her again, turning her so she's lying back on the bed, "I don't know if that's necessarily true."

He leans with one knee on the bed as she watches him remove his buttondown.

"I do want you," she counters, as he tosses is shirt onto the coffee table.

"That's not what I was arguing against."

She sits up on her elbows as he unbuckles his pants and drops them to the ground unceremoniously to prove his point.

Leaving him standing in his boxers, erection strongly outlined, "I want you more."

Yeosang swallows hard as she ravages him with her eyes. Once her gaze completes its journey back to his he slips onto the bed between her legs. She welcomes him, hand slipping up his toned biceps, down his back as he slots himself between her legs.

Hiking up her dress to reveal her damp panties he moans uninhibitedly as one of her hands drifts down to finger the outline of his cock. She cants when he drags two fingers down her clothed cunt, tucking into the side of them and moaning at the dampness he finds inside.

"Jagiya-"

"Yeosang-"

"I'm here."

"Hurry."

Yeosang tugs down his boxer briefs kicking them off, before delicately dragging her panties down her legs. She goes to untie the straps of her dress when he grabs her forearm with one hand.

"No leave it on."

So she does, arching an amused brow at this discovery. Yeosang waste no time as he lines himself up, with her flushed and soft and something so naturally feminine underneath him.

Yeosang bites his lip to withhold a moan at the sight. Rubbing himself through her arousal, swirling the tip at the entrance. Reveling in how her breathing deepens from his intimate touch, her breasts threatening to spill over the top of her dress.

That is until she impatiently hooks her calves into the back of his thighs and tugs him forward. They collectively gasp in pleasure as just the swollen head breaks just inside her fluttering pussy. Yeosang lifts his eyes to meet hers as he rolls his hips forward in one stroke, filling her quickly, entirely. She trembles at the stretch, legs spasming around his hips.

Yeosang's eyes lid as he gazes down at her, thrusting deeper, reangling to stretch the sensitive spot at her entrance she'd mentioned one time in a drunken overshare.

"Fuck," she lets out a strangle groan.

Yeosang sets a firm pace, pulling out slowly and thrusting leisurely back in to the hilt, opening her to his girth. Abdomen tense with an exercised restraint as his gaze is trained on their coupling parts; loving how her pussy puckers as he pulls out, clutching to his cock, that glistens in her essence,

"Yeo," she gasps finally breaking the trance.

Yeosang bows over her for a kiss, snapping his hips quickly a few times

"You feel so good, so-so good," he whines, burying his face in her neck when she locks her legs around his back and rubs against him.

They nearly glued together, with the slightest pull out and thrust back in. Yeosang panting into the hollow of her throat as her hips shakily meets his thrusts. He circles his hips once deeply inside causing her to arch into him. So he does it again and again, pulling back to look at her with one hand cupping the nape of her neck, the other fisting the pillow beside her head.

"Yeosang-ahhh," her eyebrows furrow as he continues to repeat the motion.

"Does it feel good?"

Yeosang knows it does he can feel her pussy sucking him in, how it trembles at the at his teasing gyrations. But he wants to hear her, have her vocally confirm that she is enjoying this as much as he is, more than he is.

"Mmmf," she turns her head shyly, and he gasps a shocked laugh.

"No need to get embarrassed now jagi, you're greedily taking me in, don't know if I can ever leave," he grunts as she squeezes him again internally and with her thighs, "gonna come for me?"

"Yes," she whines still not looking at him.

Yeosang moans her name himself, half in pleasure and other in mild frustration, "ahhh, please look at me."

He gently grabs her jaw and she meets his eyes as her body tightens. Yeosang starts snapping his hips again, giving them both a break from the taunting circles. He breathes a surprised laugh when he feels her hands on his ass, nails biting in, her legs fanning open to take him deeper.

"Thats it, enjoy me, enjoy this, ahhh-ah," Yeosang's own hips stutter briefly as he nearly loses it at the sight and feel of her.

How the straps of the dress fall off her shoulder, the swells of her breasts bounce, he presses his forehead to hers.

"Where do I need to come?"

"Where do you want to come?" She whispers strained as he continues to stroke her towards completion.

Yeosang moans and kisses her again. Driving into her as she cries out in his mouth, her insides seize so he rocks harder, swallowing her cries and losing himself until he's panting raggedly against her mouth as she claws at his back.

"Yeosang," she cries, her body arches eyes pinched shut as he frantically thrusts into her tightening cunt.

"Jagiya, so close" he chants, willinging himself to just wait a couple more strokes.

Yeosang can't get over this feeling, how slick she is, how intimately she hugs his cock, how he never even dreamed of having her this way. He tells her these things and she moans in response, quiet little "hngh" and "ahh" sounds that drive Yeosang madder.

Her hands gliding into his hair, grasping it tightly, so suddenly, in a way that makes him cry out in a broken moan. Allowing her to flip him back against the headboard, their bodies never parting as she slots her thighs next to his hips to start riding him.

Yeosang grunts tugging the bows holding the straps of her dress loose and pulling the top down so that her breasts are thrust up by her own clothing, bouncing freely as she rides him hard.

"Jagi," he moans, a look mirroring pain on his face "----" he says again and she feels him stiffen, hands clutching her hugs hard.

"Not yet yeo, 'm so close, just a little more."

Yeosang moans and draws her to him so he can drill his hips upwards, she falls apart finally, going limp in his arms squeezing his cock in pulsations as her orgasm hits. He grits his teeth as her release coats him in a mind altering warmth, enticing out his own.

Yeosangs cries out, barely pulling her hips off his cock and lying her back on the bed before he is spraying release over her exposed thigh

"Aghhh," Yeosang groans, collapsing back against the headboard.

His eyes squeezed shut as fucks his still squirting erection into his loose fist, jaw slack, panting and whining her name.

She watches with unbridled excitement as his cock twitches and squirts. Letting out a giggle at the sight of him so wrecked, and all from her. Yeosang's gaze cuts to her and she laughs harder as his body jerks in response to their eye contact. He sighs hips stilling as he releases one final ejaculation over his now tightened fist. She licks her lips, eyeing his spent dick, he huffs a laugh, face breaking out into a shy smile.

Bashful both from his own horniness and from her current appearance. Dress only covering her stomach, breasts flushed, nipples winking at him, pussy wet with her heavy release, so swollen and puffy, inner thigh marked with his cum, and her face, lips kiss bitten, eyes bright. Yeosang's groin tightens and he needs to get away before he loses his willpower, again.

"Stay here, I'll grab a towel to clean you up."

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