#(yes i wrote this at work instead of ACTUALLY doing any work LOL)

[stevethehairington]

Spaghetti is on the menu tonight.

There's a pot of water getting close to boiling on the back right burner of the stove, and Steve keeps a close eye on the pan on the front left burner as his special recipe homemade tomato sauce (the one Eddie can't get enough of) simmers away.

He's humming under his breath — Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy, he heard it on the radio earlier and it's been stuck in his head since — stirring the sauce periodically.

The big pot starts to bubble, so Steve sets the wooden spoon down and reaches for the pack of noodles, box already cracked open and waiting to be overturned into the boiling water.

That's when Eddie shuffles into the kitchen.

"Mm, smells good in here," he says, joining Steve at the stove. He drapes himself over his back, like the clingy koala he secretly is. He tucks his chin over Steve's shoulder and curls his arms around Steve's middle, hands dipping beneath the fabric of his shirt to press against the soft of his stomach.

"Should be ready in ten," Steve tells him, leaning back into Eddie’s touch.

"Good, m'hungry," Eddie replies, pressing his lips to the side of Steve's neck. He bares his teeth, bites down just a little.

It makes Steve laugh softly, squirm a little to get Eddie to quit it. "That tickles," he complains, and Eddie laughs into his skin.

"Can't help myself, baby, you just taste so good," Eddie says, then presses a kiss to the spot — an apology.

"Grab me a clean spoon?" Steve asks, giving the sauce another stir.

"I guess," Eddie responds with a pout, not wanting to let go. He keeps one arm around Steve and pulls away from his back just enough to allow him to stretch his other arm out to rifle through the silverware drawer and snatch up the requested spoon.

"Thanks," Steve says, taking the spoon. He tips his head back to press a kiss to Eddie's forehead, as best as he can from the awkward angle.

He sets the wooden spoon aside, and dips the clean spoon into the sauce, cupping his palm beneath it as he brings it up to his lips for a taste. "Hm," he hums after the test, smacking his mouth as he tries to figure out what's missing. "It needs something else."

Eddie taps the side of Steve's hand. "Lemme taste," he requests.

Steve dips the spoon back in, then twists in Eddie's arms to hold it out for him.

When Eddie leans in, he bypasses the proffered spoon and instead catches Steve's mouth in a kiss.

Steve laughs into the kiss, the smile that breaks out across his face getting in the way.

"Tastes perfect to me," Eddie says, grinning wide enough that his dimples leave deep indents in his cheeks.

Steve rolls his eyes fondly and pushes his hand into Eddie's face. Eddie just catches his wrist and turns his head so he nuzzles his cheek into Steve's palm.

Eddie does eventually let Steve guide the spoonful into his open mouth after, copying Steve by smacking his lips. "Maybe some salt?" He suggests, and Steve nods.

Eddie doesn't wait for him to ask for it, just darts across the counter to their little spice rack, pulling the salt from its spot. He hands it over to Steve, and takes up his place behind him once more.

Steve starts to hum again as he adds the salt, stirring it in. He makes it to just before the chorus and stops, bending down for another taste.

That's when Eddie decides to pick the song up himself, only he starts to sing it out loud instead. He keeps his voice soft, but lets it fill their little kitchen as he warbles out the lyrics.

The sauce is simmering, the pasta is cooking — nothing needs their direct attention. So Eddie takes it upon himself to snatch up Steve's hand, take a step back, and twirl him around.

"Eddie!" Steve cries out in surprise, and he goes spinning back into Eddie's arms, facing him this time.

"Steve," Eddie says between verses, amusement dripping, then swings him right into a happy little dance, matching the pace of the song as he croons the lyrics out.

Steve laughs as he stumbles into Eddie's arms, and tries to protest, tries to say, "But dinner!"

Eddie just waves a hand. "Dinner will be fine," he tells Steve. "Dance with me." And he wraps his arms around Steve's waist so that Steve has no choice but to loop his around Eddie's neck, and sways them around.

The dying golden light of the day streams through their curtains, painting the kitchen in a warm glow, and Steve allows himself to be led through it to the smooth cherrywood of Eddie's voice as he sings out the jaunty lyrics to the song he knows Steve loves.

As the song comes to a close, Eddie finishes it with a flourish, and tries to dip Steve, who squawks out in surprise and clutches tighter onto Eddie's neck, laughing and smiling and warning Eddie not to drop him.

When he rights Steve again, Steve shakes his head and reaches up to cup Eddie's jaw, to guide him in for a kiss. Slow, deep, toe-curling.

"You're ridiculous," he says. "I love you."

Eddie's smile glows, his eyes sparkle. "I love you, too." And he leans in for another kiss.

(If they end up making out a little, pressed against the kitchen island, and the pasta overcooks a bit, well, it's just the two of them eating it, so it doesn't really matter.)

By then, dinner is pretty much ready, so Eddie reluctantly leaves Steve's side to fetch the plates, and Steve drains the pasta and adds it to the sauce.

They sit across from one another at their tiny little table, knees knocking and legs tangled beneath. They hold hands over the tabletop and share twin smiles as they enjoy their meal together.

Spaghetti night is always a good night.

[maxlarens]

OP: well, that isn't fucking relevant

pairing(s): oscar piastri x mercedes driver!reader

summary: someone tries to threaten your job, oscar has some choice words for him. (OR: the trials and tribulations of being a woman in a male dominated sport)

word count: 2.7k+

an: i kinda hate the white knight trope but i still wrote this lol, it scratches an itch and i think driver!reader did a sufficient amount of defending of herself beforehand. anyway, this is a one shot that's kind of connected to my smau series just a girl. enjoy!!!!! [also standard disclaimer: this does not reflect the opinions of any real life people/companies/organisations/etc. it is fiction. thank you]

You’re no stranger to sexism in Formula racing— you knew going into this that you’d have to deal with thinly veiled remarks about your gender and purposefully obtuse questions from reporters who think they know more than you about the sport you’ve dedicated your life to. You had to deal with it when you were karting, you had to deal with it during your stint in F2, and you have to deal with it now.

The fact of the matter is that some people do not think you belong here, and therefore are entirely unable to integrate the reality that you are very much here to stay, into their worldview. You’re lucky to have somehow earned Lewis’ loyalty, which had brought the Mercedes contract and the support of Toto simultaneously. Mercedes-AMG aren’t making leaps and bounds into the world of feminism, but you’re grateful for the seat regardless. You’re here and not going anywhere if you can help it.

You try your best to stay off the bad parts of social media, so as not to be subjected to the barrage of hate comments and death threats directed your way. You’re tough— but no one’s that tough. It’s fine for the most part. You focus on the racing, how the car feels, your performance and improving it weekend after weekend. You try at least. You’d love to leave your gender entirely out of the mix, you don’t think it’s relevant frankly. But unfortunately, the reporters do. (And so do some choice individuals working on the grid, who just can’t seem to keep their big fucking mouths shut about you.)

It’s disappointing, sure— but not surprising to sit down at a press conference and get a smattering of questions about your rumoured relationships and extracurricular activities when every other driver gets fifty questions practically thrown at them about their performance, or FIA regulations, or the track conditions. The part that bothers you the most is honestly just the lack of interest. It’s like they don’t think anything you have to say about the sport is valuable so they just don’t ask you the same questions they bother to ask the men. That probably is the actual case too.

So— y’know— you’re not that shocked when a reporter from some sports blog you’ve never heard of straight out asks if you “expect to be switched out with another female driver next year?”

The room goes dead fucking silent in a way that you do actually find satisfying. It’s good to know that most of the reporters in the room do know a tactless question when they hear one, or at least that you inspire enough fear in people that they’re waiting with bated breath to hear your response. Next to you, Oscar tenses, you can feel it where your thighs are touching. You can imagine his face right now without looking, that pinched micro-grimace he does. The barest hint of a crease in the bridge of his nose as he tries not to scowl. You want to put your hand on his knee and squeeze it in thanks.

You don’t. Instead, you frown and cock your head to the side, meeting the eyes of the reporter across the room.

Slowly, measuredly, you repeat, “I’m sorry, do I expect to be replaced with another female driver next year? Is that what you said?”

He nods, bringing the microphone closer to his mouth as if you really couldn’t hear him the first time, “Yes, yeah. That is what I asked.”

You hum, pursing your lips as if you’re sincerely considering his question. You can see a few people in the crowd who are cringing already, some of them have been on the receiving end of your tendency to play with your food before you eat it. Your ego feels pretty good about that.

“Why would Mercedes want to replace me?” you ask in your most polite voice, feigning real curiosity to this man who you doubt has done any research at all on you.

“Um,” he errs, some of his former unflappable confidence leeching out of his tone, “Well, to give more women a chance in Formula One—”

You start to speak over him, done with entertaining his ignorance. You bite, “—there are other teams for that, actually. I don’t think it’s presumptuous to say that I’ve earned my seat at Mercedes, or that I’ve proven that I belong here so far this season. In which, I have not qualified or placed below a P7. And I certainly don’t think it’s fair of you to ask if I am going to voluntarily give up my hard-earned seat to another person because you think I am here because of some women’s inclusion effort by Mercedes. And, okay, who knows, maybe I am. But I am not giving up this seat without a fight, nor do I imagine that Mercedes are in a rush to find someone to replace me right now. You’ll have to ask someone to confirm that though.”

You wind down after that, punctuating your point with a firm nod; some of the fight and the fury seeping out as you start to reckon with the potential consequences of your outburst. Mercedes’ PR rep will have something to say surely, you’re just hoping you haven’t crossed some kind of uncrossable line. Another part of you doesn’t quite care as you watch the reporter gape like a fish out of water, feeling rather satisfied that you’d put him in his place.

Eventually, the room recovers and moves on from you. Checo is getting asked his opinion on tyres while you share a furtive glance with Oscar. He smiles approvingly, mouth closed and the apples of his cheeks pushed up into his eyes. You feel the urge to touch his knee again but resist, instead smiling back as covertly as you possibly can. A warm feeling spreads in your chest and you almost forget about the reporter and his stupid question in favour of watching Oscar’s slow-burn smile.

Mercedes is fine with it, it turns out. Apparently, you’re doing the heavy lifting for them in the feminism department and all they have to do is have Toto or someone come out and say a few words in agreement. It suits them fine, they don’t need to take any hard stances and you get the blame if anything goes horribly wrong. That grates at you, of course it does. But you’ve got a seat, haven’t you? You’re not going to give it up because Mercedes are covering their asses like the multibillion-dollar company that they are.

It means you’ve avoided the all-hands-on-deck PR meeting you thought you’d be stuck in tonight, but it’s left you in too sour a mood for this party. It’s some function, fundraiser, something or other and they’ve invited all the teams, drivers and ‘important’ FIA staff. This means there’s an inordinate amount of people here and you’re really not into it.

But you’re still here. You’ve shoved yourself into a cute, strappy, black top, and a denim mini-skirt and you’ve even added some cute jewellery in a feeble attempt to match whatever over-the-top outfit Lewis has arrived in. It’s at least a step up from your usual team polo and leggings, or the Mercedes hoodie that you pull on over it. You’re comfortable. You’re fine.

You pull a hand out of the pocket of your oversized leather jacket as Oscar comes back over with your beer. You smile at the expression on his face as you take the neck in between your fingers. He’s scowling openly, the corners of his lips curled up in distaste.

“Busy?” you ask, then you hold up the beer in thanks, “Cheers, by the way.”

“Hmm, too crowded,” he affirms, “I lost Lando.”

You shrug, taking a swig of the refreshingly cold beer, “Actually? Or did he run off with someone?”

Oscar snorts, “Yeah, no. He got into a conversation with Max.”

You laugh, “Yeah, in that case, I reckon we’ll see Lando in a few hours.”

“Definitely.”

The two of you share an amused smile before you’re back to looking into the crowd because sometimes, it’s hard for you to look at him— like looking directly into the sun. You’re aware of him in your periphery, standing there and rocking back and forth on his heels, occasionally taking a sip of his drink. He looks away for a moment, and you turn to look at him. Taking in the endearing swoop of his hair, the scattering of freckles and moles on the side of his pale face, the long line of his neck disappearing into the collar of his shirt. You shift your eyes slightly to the right of him, to the patchwork of vents and scaffolding in the ceiling, feigning as if you’d only been casually looking his way.

“That reporter was a piece of work,” Oscar says once he’s drifted his attention back to you.

You roll your eyes on instinct, and groan, “Tell me about it, holy shit, Osc. What an asshole. I don’t know if he was just stupid or legit didn’t know a single thing about me.”

“Mm,” Oscar hums in agreement, “and I like how no one asked you a single question after that. Way to go guys, that’s exactly how you show your support.”

You roll your eyes, still smiling a little at the contented feeling you’ve got in your chest, “I know, right. Trust, they all got on their keyboards afterwards to wax lyrical about how deserving I am of my seat. It’d be fucken’ nice if they acted like it during press conferences.”

“Yeaah,” he sighs, half-laugh, half-exhale, “It’s unfair.”

“Fucken' right,” you gripe, tipping your head back and letting a slip of fizzy beer cascade down your throat— the alcohol, though meagre, leaves you feeling loose, a little reckless, “It sucks Osc. God, I just want to be respected. If I had a dick and balls I’d be fucking killing it, dude. This is my rookie season, I’ve been scoring points every race. Except for the DNF, which was not my fault. But, fuck me, they don’t give a shit.”

You squeeze your eyes shut to stave off the angry tears that are sitting behind your eyelids, threatening. When you open them Oscar is staring at you, frowning, his brown eyes huge and sparkling and sympathetic. They’re like a black hole you want to fall into. Your heart squeezes. He’s so— ugh. Quickly, your mind supplies about a hundred answers to that question: sweet, cute, nice, adorable. Something stutters in your chest and you feel your cheeks starting to grow hot. That slow-burn smile of Oscar’s starts on his face, and you watch dimples form on his cheeks.

The moment is quickly ruined by a particularly nasally Italian accent that you vaguely recognise, “You know,” it says, clearly talking to you, “You should make sure to watch your tone. You never know who could be listening.”

Mood thoroughly dampened, you turn to face the interruption. It turns out to be one of the numerous men on the grid who won’t shut up about you, sharing unsolicited opinions left and right. He has his arms crossed against his chest and a smug expression on his face, as if he’s just caught you doing something terrible— instead of simply complaining about the subpar treatment you’re afforded.

He’s not worth your time whatsoever but God you’re angry. Maybe it’s just been too much shit on top of shit today but you cannot deal reasonably with this man right now— and you are not afforded the luxury of not acting reasonably toward someone like this, no matter how much of a dickhead they are. You open your mouth. Close it. Open it again. Close it and bite down on your bottom lip so nothing accidentally slips out. You’re trying to fish a semi-civil sentence out of a sea of fuck you fuck you fuck you on repeat and it’s not working.

“Are you threatening her?” Oscar asks, a dangerous lilt to his tone, and somewhere in the pulse of anger, you think this is the happiest you’ve ever been to hear his voice, “Because, I am pretty sure your team principal would not be pleased to hear that you’re going around threatening one of Mercedes’ drivers.”

He scoffs, trying to play it off, but you think you register a little bit of worry somewhere in there— Oscar can be threatening when he wants to be and McLaren are not exactly nobodies in this sport right now, “Please, I am not threatening her. I am just telling her that she needs to watch her mouth.”

“Right,” Oscar nods, mouth pinching, “Sure. Well, it would be our word against yours and I’m fairly sure your team principal would believe two drivers over you right now. Especially with that history, you’ve got, dude.”

A little thrill goes up your spine as his face goes white as a sheet. Oscar’s talking about the nice little list of comments he’s made that you’ve reported to your team and an FIA representative— which you’ve taken to doing every time anyone starts up a pattern of saying things about you or to you. They’re to cover your ass honestly, so you can’t be accused of making things up if push comes to shove. You’re sure they’ve made their way back to him and his boss; you’re glad they’ve made an impact (but perhaps not enough to stop him outright).

He sniffs, a nervous edge to his words, “I am not threatening her.”

“Okay. Apologise.”

“Excuse me?”

Oscar raises an eyebrow, “If you’re not threatening her, apologise.”

You bite the inside of your lip and grip the neck of your near-empty beer bottle tighter. Alright, Oscar can be scary. Noted. Very much noted.

“I—” He quickly thinks better of protesting and looks at you, lips pursed in a thin angry line, “I apologise.”

He looks at Oscar, Oscar looks at you. You shrug and nod. Good enough. You don’t need him to grovel, you think he’s been sufficiently humiliated already. Although, before he scampers off into the crowd at Oscar’s approval, you manage a dry, “You think I need to watch my tone now?”

He scowls, but says, “No,” anyway.

Then he stalks off into the throng of people.

You relax more the further that he gets away from the two of you. The tension dissipates into something warm and charged with a different kind of electricity entirely. You ignore the unease that tries to take root in your stomach and instead focus on Oscar at your side.

“That was—” you scrub a hand over your face, starting your sentence again, “Hm.”

Oscar sigh-laughs again, “Yeah, what an asshole.”

“Thank you,” you say meaning it wholeheartedly, “No one’s done something like that for me before.”

Oscar looks down at you, frowning, he shakes his head, “It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing,” you answer, feeling bold as you put a hand on his bicep in an attempt to express how grateful you feel for him, for what he’d done for you, “It’s really not, Osc.”

He’s quiet, staring at you with big brown sparkling eyes for a long long moment. A long moment in which you fantasise about reaching upward and pulling his face down to yours, feeling his lips against your own. They’d be soft, you think— his hair would be too. You don’t think about it and you resolutely ignore the tug low in your gut.

“You deserve it,” he says eventually, loud enough that you can hear it, but not anyone else, “You are killing it, by the way.”

You breathe a laugh, “Yeah, I’d better be.”

You squeeze gently at his bicep, feeling the sinewed muscle underneath his dress shirt. Then you let your hand drop, trailing absently down his arm as you do so. Your fingers brush his hand, and he catches yours before it's out of reach at your side. Purposefully, he threads your fingers with his, squeezing firmly and brushing his thumb tenderly over your knuckle. You feel a little lightheaded when he lets go.

You sigh, masking the out-of-breath quality of your voice, “I need another drink.”

“Yeah,” Oscar breathes, “Me too, I reckon.”

🏎️ title taken from this song :)

[atsumulogy]

WHEN YOUR CO-WORKER CALLS HIMSELF YOUR “WORK HUSBAND”

synopsis: how he reacts to your co-worker calling himself your “work husband”

featuring: miya atsumu, oikawa tooru, & iwaizumi hajime. fem!reader.

content warning(s): jealousy, possessive boys, weird co-worker, suggestive at iwa’s part 😵 sorry my hands slipped lmao. also grammar mistakes … have mercy i wrote this kinda half asleep + use of wife

naia’s footnote: yk that work wife thing? yeah, that but with a twist with the hq men 🤭 jealous scenarios are my guilty pleasure LOL i wrote this when i was supposed to be doing smth actually productive 😓‼️also i got carried away w atsumu’s haha

REQUESTS ARE OPEN! rb’s & likes are appreciated

#01 — WHEN COMING AS YOUR PLUS ONE IN YOUR OFFICE’S FANCY EVENT, MIYA ATSUMU didn’t want to admit it but he kind of expected to be fawned over by your female colleagues — not that he wanted them to! It’s just … expected, seeing how absolutely hot your husband is (the expensive suit and tie and all). What he did not expect was being introduced to your … what was it? Ahh, yes, “work husband”.

The absolute audacity and sheer nerve of this bastard to call himself that in front of him, the actual husband on the documents and in your heart.

Work husband. He scoffs silently, face scrunching up in irritation, poking his cheeks with his tongue instead of making a fuss in this exclusive event where lots of important people are present. As much as he cares for obliterating this man in front of him, he cares more about you and didn’t want to cause you any issues with your workplace.

(Though, if this ugly scrub touches your arm again and joke about Atsumu being the side chick, he wasn’t so sure that he wouldn’t cause a scene.)

Besides, the 24 karat gold necklace hanging around your neck with his initials attached to the chains and the elegant ring on your finger makes it painfully clear that your self-proclaimed work husband has no chance against the Miya Atsumu.

BONUS:

Atsumu may have acted mature about the situation while in the event, but behind closed doors he was whining and grumbling about that annoyin’ scrub.

“— like I still can’t believe he had the guts to say that in front of me!” He scoffs, face scrunching up again, his mouth forming a scowl. “Work husband… tsk, i’m yer only husband! hell, i’ll be yer work husband, house husband, and every other fuckin’ husband title there is!”

Instead of informing your husband that it doesn’t work like that, you nod to every word he said every time he looks at your eyes to back him up on his rant.

“Yes baby, I know. Now why don’t we get you a trophy with all those husband titles, hm?” You jokingly offered, patting his fluffy blonde hair.

Next week a package arrived carrying a shiny gold trophy with the words “Miya Y/n’s only house husband, work husband, and everything else in between” customized on the front <3

#02 — OIKAWA TOORU SCOFFED AFTER SOME IRRELEVANT, MEDIOCRE, UGLY MAN introduced himself as your “work husband”, somewhat offended because someone dared crown themselves a self-proclaimed title as your work husband — like that bastard is even worthy enough to be breathing the same air as you!

He recognizes this man to be the man you ranted to him about that was inappropriately acting like he’s close with you and many other women of your office.

Wanting to do you and the other women of your office a favor, he decided to humble him.

“Last time I checked, there was no side piece. And if there were to be a side piece — which will never happen by the way! — my wife would pick someone better looking than you. As you can see she has great taste, since she married me and only me. But you should know that by now, hm? Our wedding was even on the news!” showing the ring on his finger, wiggling it even to show emphasis, his tone and his (threatening) smile was friendly, but you all know that it was anything but that.

Oikawa Tooru is an intimidating opponent, both in and out of the court.

#03 — NEVER IN HIS 25 YEARS OF LIVING HAS IWAIZUMI HAJIME met a more annoying and repulsive person such as the man in front of him that cockily and casually called himself as your “work husband”.

You felt his beefy arms tighten around your waist, he leans in to you closely, his hot breath heating up your ears as he asked you with low voice, however still (purposely) loud enough for the guy in front of you two to hear. “Baby, do you even know him?”

You nodded, “He’s just some guy in the finance department who’s really weird, Hajime. I don’t even remember his name. Sato? Aoki?”

The man before you deflated, his cocky stance nowhere to be seen as he scoffs defensively, “It’s Nakamura —”

“— Yeah, sure, well my wife and I have somewhere else to be now. So goodbye Ishikawa-san.” He purposely used a different name — politely even, to mock him and push his buttons.

“It’s Nakamu —”

“Bye Sato-kun!” You played along with your husband’s petty antics, waving him off before locking your arms around Hajime’s before snuggling close to him as you two walked away. The both of you bursting out laughing once you guys think the guy was far away enough to not hear you two.

“Have you seen his face! He deserved that humbling experience!” You snorted, Hajime rolling his eyes as he remembers the guy.

“Okay but who even is he really? Is he always so flirtatious with you? What even is a work husband? Last time I checked, I’m the one who gave you that new last name of yours.” He grumbled, irritated at the thought of that bastard flirting with you at work when your husband wasn’t there.

“Aw, babe, you know that you’re the only one for me.” you patted his cheeks affectionately, smiling at him while giggling.

He does. He knows it, a bit too well at times. So he sighs and he lets it go. Because he knows that at the end of the day, he’s the one you come home to, he’s the one you cling onto while watching your favorite shows, he’s the one that rests his free hand on your thighs whenever you two go for a drive.

And tonight, he’s the one that will lay you down on the bed and touch you, talk to you, and feel you in ways that only he can do.

© ATSUMULOGY. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ANY FORM OF PLAGIARISM OF ANY OF MY CONTENT WILL NOT BE TOLERATED.

[kalims]

Can I please request any Twst character seeing their crush kiss their tsum?

⊹ kissing their tsum tsum

premise. maybe leaving their tsum somewhere to come back to wasn't such a good idea anymore when it's clearly taking the attention of the person they like.

parts. floyd (i somehow forgot him help)

content. gender neutral reader

characters. riddle, leona, jack, epel, sebek

cw. written by someone who hasn't played through the event and does not know shit lol

note. are they just plushies??? or do they have a consciousness of their own??? I am so confused but wow I wrote somehow

I just slapped whoever had cards on the event onto here 😭 caters part is my favorite ugh

riddle rosehearts

left his tsum in it's custom made velvet chair to grab another jar of sugar since riddle didn't know it ran out.

and yes, he had one made for it. smaller version of his own and stuff, it literally has better privileges than any other resident of the dorm.

^ he totally drinks tea with it and believes that even if it isn't actually alive it's him and if this tsum didn't drink tea at the exact time for a specific rule he still feels like he broke one.

he even pours a cup for it hekasbkqkas.

I mean the liquid doesn't get drank by anyone obviously but riddle still does it.

so as he's walking back, opening the chair to take a peek to see if it's enough cubes once he closes it, and looks up he almost just trips on air and drops the glass jar.

he fumbles with the object for a second, blinking rapidly at the sight of you snuggling into his tsum then giving it little kisses every now and then, did he hear you calling it cute—?

"wha...what in the world are you doing?!"

"it's so adorable.." you mumble, hearing the boy but it just goes in one ear and out the other.

good lord he doesn't know whether he'd like to melt into a puddle, combust from his red face, or be that tsum.

should he be jealous? no. but is he? yeah. even if he's denying it severely.

next session the tsum was left with no tea and was promptly caged in his room in hopes that you would not do all that to his tsum, and to his real self instead.

leona kingscholar

I honestly don't think he would really care for it??

I mean wow. it looks like him. cool. whatever. what's he supposed to do with it? it's just a plush no need to work up so much for it.

not that doing effort for it benefits him in anyone but he just keeps it on his bed since he didn't really wanna go anywhere else and his bed just happened to be near so...

*yoink*

no one tells him this, especially not ruggie but he actually sleeps with it. an arm over it sometimes and usually coddling it in his arms.

trust me ruggie has proof.

100 madol for 5 seconds fr

well as usual it's in his bed just there in it's habitat just like the real leona kingscholar.

even someone like him takes the time to actually go to the bathroom so while he's gone, and when he's on his way back he immediately knows you're there.

that's a scent he can recognize anywhere (well duh. bro spent so long tryna engrave it) and if he can smell you so close to his destination then obviously you're in his room.

also he left the door slightly closed and it's more open than before so that's that.

just like anyone else he completely stops before he could open his mouth and is actually flabbergasted and flustered?

why are you kissing his tsum?? "that's kinda creepy ain't it?" he drawls but his tucked ears says I wanna be it so bad.

"guess i'm creepy then."

you say simply and go back to coddling the damn thing. leona scowls at the relevation. there's no way a small, lame version of him is gonna win you like that!

move over so you can enjoy the real thing >:(

jack howl

mr. everyday is leg, arm, everything day guy.

I believe he's more of an outdoors dude, a very sweet outdoors dude.

the kind of sweet outdoors dude that would buy a miniature plushie version of weights for his tsum so it can get the eveyday is leg, arm, everything day too.

cute thing is jack is actually so proud of himself 😭 evident from the cute lil' wag of tail he does.

he's so pure!!

and him and his tsum totally 'work out' together.

well it's mainly him but he likes to think that his tsum is too. if he's doing an exercise that doesn't require a lot of moving his tsum is just there somewhere with it's weights facing him.

if he's running he has it on his shoulders awww..

sometimes he can get a little distracted though. from his intense focus he didn't even hear you approaching, let alone sitting down and basically hogging his tsum all to yourself!

at some point you just made the tsum copy whatever the real jack does. jack is doing push-ups? damnn.. tsum is doing is so easily.

you get the point.

it's only then when jack notices when he hears you and mistakes your comment for him.

"ahh, you did great cutie.. so strong, so cute." he hears you mumble and turns pink before turning back to look at you and the happy movement of his wolf traits pause.

oh that wasn't for him.

jack stares in envy. HE SWEARS THAT TSUM JUST SMIRKED AT HIM.. LITERALLY TRAITOR.

man just feels betrayed.

cater diamond

absolutely adores him tsum to bits!!

ever since he got it he practically drags it everywhere and his magicam page is full of it.

I reckon cater named it. maybe dia(mond) or something, if not then the classic cater 2.0 which is funny cause now he got 3 clones!!

^ the other two and now lil' cater 🎤

which makes me wonder. it'd totally be cute if he had like, two other tsums that are copies of the result of his unique magic. now it's actually cater 2.0 for real!

cater 2.0 is definitely more popular than some students so you could go up to one and say: you know who this is *picture of random student*

they'll be like: ehh... can't say I do, or seen them before

you holding up a picture of cater 2.0: what about this?

them: oh thats cater 2.0 obviously!

random student crying in the backround.

IMAGINEEE (laughs in pain)

ahem. he likes to have his tsums (tsums cause he actually got 3 to match himself) around everywhere so he can incorporate them into his selfies.

also he needs to feed everyone more cater 2.0's content. there's cater D, cater I, and cater A who all spell out dia :DD big brain

in the music room of his club where's he's peacefully testing out a riff behind him his tsums lay..

so obviously he didn't hear you shuffle into the room, let out the quietest gasp ever and just take the three into your arms and look like you're in heaven.

you stay like that for a while, smiling and hugging the tsums cause wow were they just adorable! and there's three of them!

you all spare the three a sweet kiss before realizing that the music has stopped and cater is pouting at you.

"aw that isn't fair!" he whined, and smiles cheekily. "these guys and I want some of that too!" he points to his two splits that has recently conjured.

now you got three miniature caters that got the kiss, and three real caters that want one yayy!

sebek zigvolt

said he was not going to care for.. something like that and if there was anything like.. that, the only thing he'd care of was one of malleus'.

then said that 'he wanted to educate the plush' even though it was a plush. he's already contradicting himself here, where's the hate??

legit just rambled to the plush for an hour straight preaching about the greatness and glory of his young master.

where silver actually woke up from! silver!! crazy, right?

it must have been a lot of even silver rose from it.

said he was not going to spend anything on it unlike the other people who had spent a hefty amount of madol for the comfort of their tsum and for them alone.

but he figured.. just getting a small painting of the young master so the tsum would look at it everyday isn't too much of a stretch.

that's what he said before and now he's on his way to get another smaller version merch of malleus.

god forbid if malleus ever came inside the room cause he's just gonna see a lot of stuff.. but don't worry cause sebek atleast has a separate corner for all that.

'I will not care for it' my ass.

of course he had completely forgotten that he had invited you over and was outside fetching his blade he forgot to bring inside.

as per dorm rules! don't want it flying away anywhere if a.. *coughs* storm suddenly appears.

lilia had already invited you in and insisted it was fine for you to enter sebek's room beforehand even with your doubts he just pushed you in and you weren't in a place to argue when he didn't even budge when you tried to stop.

once you just walked around out of curiosity it was only in due time where you would see the plush.

an idea pops in your head.

sebek did not expect to see you inside his room.

let alone on his bed, with his tsum in your arms and you dutifully committing yourself into showering it with love and affection.

he's just flabbergasted, shocked to silence, every synonym near to those. but there's an increasing amount of steam pouring out of his ears as his face twitches more by the minute.

"WHAT ARE YO—"

you kiss it so casually that sebek shuts up and almost faints out of embarrassment and fluster.

WHAT IS GOING ON?? he's so confused. WHO LET YOU IN??

bat chuckling somewhere

epel felmier

would very much like to dress up his tsum.

he knows because vil already saw the tsum looking like a monstrosity covered in dirt and leaves, only spared a disappointed look but stayed silent.

not in the way you'd think cause he feels like he can do whatever he'd like to this tsum and vil wouldn't really care like the man would to real epel.

a hallelujah for him honestly.

he doesn't really put much love to his tsum but it's pretty cute that's all. rook finds it way more appealing than him though which he isn't sure how to interpret.

epel doesn't leave it just anywhere when it's outside of pomefiore. cause students there are polite and definitely would not wreck a plushie that looks exactly like him.

if he did the tsum would probably disappear on campus and be found in a dumpster.

*chills* cause he somehow feels for the tsum.

when he's angry he just vents to it and vents whenever. including the times he's just having a crisis about you.

if that tsum was alive godddd epel would be so exposed.

he left the tsum somewhere outside, in the middle of the garden.

he was practicing his make-up there, as per vil's instructions and went out to go fetch a product he had forgotten to grab along with the others.

he figured he might as well take a cup of water as a drink to go.

epel is just gulping down the water when it's just coincidence that he lowers the cup, sees you, there's water still in his mouth, then you give his tsum a little cute kiss so he just spits it all out.

OH MY GOD WHAT WAS THAT. he thought completely out of it. he stares intensely at the tsum.

he's definitely regretting venting to the tsum about you cause epel somehow thinks it's somehow alive and is now rizzing you up, with the knowledge HE gave IT!

he's so mad help 😭

*epel trying to aggressively rizz you up too*

"you don't need that." *snatches and throws the tsum away*

IN JEALOUSY.

meanwhile you watch it fly with sad eyes. :(

mad epel.

note. jesus christ I wrote all of this RIGHT AFTER I posted that /srs ☹ AND I DID ALL THIS IN LIKE AN HOUR HELP ME WHERE DID THAT COME FROM

commision me!

[lazycats-stuff]

Remember when u wrote batbro who's Australian? Now u HAVE TO do Italian! This time with Italian toddler batbro, please little Italian people with their small hand gestures are so funny and so fricking adorable to me I'm tearing up just thinking about it

Yeah, Italians are funny and adorable, but I think it would work better if it's a teen instead of a toddler, so I have to modify that part, I just think it would fit better. Also, 1.3k, thank you guys and yes, I know this is a little bit short, but I do want to get this out for you guys. Also, Italians are my neighboring country lol, so if any Italians are reading this, hi!

Summary: (Y/N) is Italian. The family can't deal with him.

Warnings:

Bruce, yet again, found out he had another biological child. Another son. Bruce loved his sons, but he could get a daughter for once. Someone who was less chaotic to a certain degree. Turns out, when Bruce had a one night stand with an Italian model, she got pregnant and she didn't say anything to Bruce about his son for 13 years.

Bruce found out when she was put in jail. Bruce didn't know what happened, but he was more numb from the news that he has another son. Not to mention, man with a heavy Italian accent calling him in the middle of the night telling him about his son and Bruce having to call his lawyers...

The amount of paperwork that it took for Bruce to bring (Y/N) to America is nuts. Sure, you have to make sure that both governments know where the child is. The amount of connections Bruce had to pull just to get (Y/N) to the USA is actually insane. Thankfully, (Y/N) would soon get his citizenship and he would be able to keep his Italian citizenship.

Thankfully, both the US and Italy allow people to have multiple citizenships so (Y/N) could go back to Italy without any problems. Bruce and the others need to get visas. (Y/N) laughed at them when he heard that.

But hey, when they go to Italy, they will have a translator. And it's incredible to listen to (Y/N) not knowing English really. They weren't mocking him by any means, but they were crying of laughter a few times when there was some English problems.

But there were another things they didn't know about Italians. For example, (Y/N) was touchy in conversations. And he was closer to them, more in their space. None of them minded them, it was actually nice how closer he was to them because Americans prefer to keep their distance it seems.

And a thing that seemed like are they European or gay thing is the fact they have their little pecks on the cheek. It wasn't anything intimate by any means and it's a way to say hi to guests. Men do it as well so it wasn't gay per say... But then again... Bruce knew that Italy had a different way than Americans.

And by God, (Y/N) had so many cultural shocks. So many. The sizes of food in America... And (Y/N) will forever fight the notion that pineapple belongs on the pizza. He shall defend his Italian heritage and cuisine.

Also, while on the topic of the sizes, everything in America is huge. Cars, buildings... (Y/N) thought that in a way it lacked warmth. And (Y/N) didn't even want to think about the prices of medication and healthcare here. He knows that Bruce is rich, but still... My God.

Another thing was the fact that kind of annoyed Bruce and Alfred was the amount of espressos that (Y/N) can drink in a day. Tim loved him a lot for it, but Bruce and Alfred weren't so happy. So many espressos wasn't really helpful. But hey.

But one iconic thing that can make you tell who is an actual Italian or not, is the famous hand gesture. They still remember the time when (Y/N) was talking on the phone with a family member who lives in Italy and it seemed that the entire family was on the other side of the phone.

He was talking fast, phone on his ear while he was going to the kitchen to drink some water and get some snacks. They all watched in silence as (Y/N) talked loudly, even as he was opening the fridge for some snacks.

And that's when they saw it. The famous hand gesture, in between some passionate talk about something and yelling over the phone. He seemed annoyed, but there was a smile on the teen's face as he was talking.

Once he was finished, he joined his family at the table. Jason has decided to learn Italian. Bruce has silently agreed. Damian was already prepared to learn. Basically, the entire family has decided to learn Italian and help (Y/N) with English in return.

Another thing that made adapting to the American culture more difficult was the fact that talking and kind of interrupt one you are talking too. In Italy, that is not really considered rude since they are passionate about talking and just overall talking over.

In America, that is considered rude. He didn't like it that much, but understood. People won't like him that much and he would be considered a rude person if he interrupts other people. His family understood that it's not easy, but hey. You adapt to the culture and move on.

But still, it hurt a little bit.

And (Y/N) never understood one thing as well. Something called Italian Americans. He couldn't comprehend calling yourself Italian American, but you don't speak Italian and you are not connected to the culture of your other part. It was weird to him. No hate towards them, but to him it was weird. How can you call yourself a person who belongs to a certain culture if you don't know it?

But hey, no hate. As long as they don't insult Italy and the Italian culture, no hate.

And one more thing that no one prepares you for is the fact that you miss your home country. Despite Alfred doing the best Italian dishes known to men, but it just didn't taste the same. It didn't have that taste of Italy. Yes, it sounds weird, but it's true. Italy is one hell of a country with a rich history.

Oh the nostalgia is a worst feeling ever. Sure, it makes you feel happy and remember the great times you had., but sad at the same time. Bruce saw it, he wasn't blind.

He was sad for his son. So what does Bruce do? Summer holidays are approaching and Bruce had one great idea for everyone. 2 weeks in Italy, all paid for. He just needed to tell (Y/N) when and where they will be going.

And Bruce told him a few moments later, (Y/N) screamed from happiness and jumped into Bruce's arms, hugging him like a koala bear.

" Grazie Bruce! " (Y/N) screamed. Bruce didn't mind the use of his first name because (Y/N) was still getting used to the fact that he has a dad.

" Ti amo Bruce. " (Y/N) said as he stood back down at the floor. Bruce smile widely as he knew exactly what first two words meant.

" Love you too son. "

(Y/N) let out a woo as he went back to his room. Oh he will stuff himself with all of the Italian food he can eat and find. And he will go to Rome and the Vatican. No one is going to stop him. And not to mention, he will have to visit his family. They would never forgive him by any means and you don't want to piss off an Italian family.

[mistyacorn]

you remind me of the main protagonist

sypnosis; dan heng and his odd way of saying “hey, i think i like you”

pairing(s); dan heng + fem! reader ⟿ featuring; pure fluff, really blank and super indirect dan heng, reader is compared to a female character (hence, fem! reader)

a/n; this was such a random write lol. im so sorry that it’s a bit of a mess, im still working on more clear storylines heheh . i hope it’s still enjoyable! ૮(ㅅ´ ˘ `) ♡ also i made beauty and the beast a canon fairytale here pffft u neva know

⇢ DAN HENG is the type that literally nobody expects to like anybody, and therefore neither do you.

⇢ you’d probably even think that he dislikes you because whenever it’s just the two of you he never says a word. he’s dead silent. he only ever nods or gestures and barely looks you in the eye.

⇢ occasionally you’d get slightly jealous of how he speaks whenever march is with you guys (even though they always end up fighting verbally, it’s still talking!)

⇢ so you eventually take it as a ‘hint’ and try your best to move on.

⇢ though let’s be real, it’s not easy to move on from a crush if you see him almost everyday. especially when he has the most perfect emerald eyes and soft black hair….

⇢ one day, you’re in your room on the astral express and you’ve just finished the book you had borrowed from the express library recently.

⇢ you did borrow it without telling anyone though, so it kinda felt like you stole it haha…

⇢ but you definitely did not want to annoy dan heng with your request so stealing borrowing seemed like the best option.

⇢ you decide to head over to his room, hoping to secretly drop the book and go.

⇢ thankfully the boy is not in the room when you get there (which is super rare, go you!). you tiptoe as carefully as you can towards the bookshelf.

⇢ you quickly find the correct slot and insert the book.

⇢ just as you think you’ve accomplished your mission, you turn around and-

⇢ at the door stands dan heng, staring at you nonchalantly (as per usual). “hi.”

⇢ his sudden appearance immediately causes you to begin a five minute long explanation about how you got there. (yes, five minutes. idk how but you drag it on and on) its mostly bullshit you’re spitting out.

⇢ “…pom pom told me that there was this super cool book…. I just had to read it of course …..and it was really cool yeah yeah ….um about robots and science and…stuff….”

⇢ does pom pom even read?? you didn’t know!

⇢ and you definitely don’t notice amidst your frantic stories, but dan heng listens to you attentively in amusement. he actually has the smallest grin on his face, very well knowing you are making everything up.

⇢ to put it simply, he finds it endearing. he’s almost in a trance, just listening to you talk and talk and talk…

⇢ after you finish your story time, he snaps out of it quick enough for you to not notice anything.

⇢ and you bow repeatedly in embarrassment before dashing out of the room.

⇢ the following day, dan heng suddenly gives you a book out of nowhere. today, his signature cold face seems slightly nervous instead, but you don’t pay attention.

⇢ you see that the book is a fairytale, one that is right up your alley!

⇢ ‘Beauty and the Beast’.

⇢ you open the book to see a post-it note on the first page, with neat handwriting on it;

‘y/n, I saw you liked fairytales and the fantasy genre. I do not. But I stumbled across this book yesterday, and I remember reading the first three chapters sometime when I was younger. It seems like something you’ll like. The main protagonist reminds me of you. I hope you’ll like it.’

⇢ your face is red hot as you read his note. he wrote to you. he thinks of you. he said you reminded him of a princess. (what the fvck.)

⇢ and secretly behind the scenes, dan heng is not as calm and collected as he seems.

⇢ after you put away the book and left that day, he took note of the book you had returned. fairytale…fantasy…

⇢ dan heng immediately started to think hard about any fantasy books he had read in his life. hours and hours of struggling later (he never reads fantasy, it’s too unrealistic for him), he finally remembers one.

⇢ he’d read the first few chapters of it before, and he remembers the main character all too clearly. she reminded him so much of you, yet he didn’t know why.

⇢ (truthfully, it was definitely because she was his first ever fictional crush. and now you were…… but he was never going to admit that to himself.)

⇢ he spends his night searching around the archives. 2am the next morning, he finds it.

⇢ dan heng goes to bed that night, heart thumping faster than usual, because now he realises just how much he likes you.

© mistyacorn do not plagiarize or repost please, just enjoy it ykwim

[tartigglez]

For the 300 follower event. Can I request green with Zhongli as Rex Lapis?

"rest"

・❥・rex lapis x gn!adeptus!reader

・❥・1.5k

・❥・set in old teyvat, reader and morax are in a sort of weird soul bond situationship, half-dragon!li (i've just decided its his base form now so everyone cope), he calls reader "little one" at one point (lol?), reader has horns (that sounds so silly help), reader cries and it's kinda cinematic, (yes i am using this to heal the wounds my ex left me with because he was ashamed of our relationship thank you for asking!), this has gotta be one of my fav fics ive ever written LOL

・❥・HELLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO IT IS I, CAEL. today i present you all with: a thing i wrote!

・❥・if you want to request a prompt from this event, click on the green title!

the world is quiet when the dragon slumbers. 

at least, that's what you think. 

that's what the adepti think.

the souls of the old deities that have been subdued by rex lapis calm a little when he rests. their empty shells are less vengeful, and they, albeit momentarily, no longer seek to wreak havoc on the people of liyue. 

it was a simple mission you had. go to the cave, retrieve any necessary cor lapis for streetward rambler and do not disturb morax. and of course, none of the other adepti knew, but this rule was an optional one in your mind.

the others would never know of your relationship with rex lapis, which was of a deeper level than you cared to explain. the deep, intricate weaves of your two souls together were much more detailed than anyone could ever imagine, so gently and carefully tied over such a long time that they could never be undone. they were roots so deep that neither you nor him could even tell how much you needed each other. 

of course, when he is resting you shouldn’t disturb him, because he needs it. he works hard to protect his people, and for this reason he should always be allowed to rest when he needs. 

as the few chunks of cor lapis you carried in your bag clanked together, you entered the mouth of a cave in mingyun village. you were fully aware that this was where he would be, since you could feel his presence. but you were only here since this was where the best cor lapis could be found, right? right?

a seemingly small tunnel in the side of the cave led you straight to the sight of him. he was completely still in slumber, tail of brown scales and golden spines lay a little curved on his hoard of various gemstones and chunks of metals.

you walked somewhat slowly to him, tiptoeing your way in to the cave, only to have a look at him of course. he looked quite strange when sleeping. his aura was much more peaceful than usual. 

normally, morax was calm. but there would always be some sort of troubled glint in his eyes, one that it appears only you can see, perhaps it is only for you to know of. 

as you made your way to the side of the cave opposite to the opening, you could see his hair and arms glowing a little in rhythm with his breathing. from deep in his chest came soft, yet low purrs. he was at rest. however, the small smile which appeared on his lips would say otherwise. 

slowly, but surely his eyelids opened, the bright amber irises previously hidden behind them meeting you as you stared at him, not even realising he had actually woken up. instead you were busy admiring his presence. 

“you haven’t been here long, hm?” he spoke with a yawn, pushing himself to sit up upon his hoard. the golden surfaces of a few pieces of mora reflected his sharp features as he took a sigh. 

your expression was one of pure guilt. you had only wished to see him, after all it was rare that the two of you got much time alone, but you didn’t want to actually wake him up when he was so deserving of a sleep. 

“not to worry,” he smiled, “i was due to wake up in a few days anyway.” he got down from the top of the pile, ground shaking a little as he jumped, and was all of a sudden by your side. “why the long face, little one?” he asked gently, tilting his head to the side and placing a loving hand on your cheek.

“i didn’t want to wake you up” you sighed, leaning into his touch. “i did miss you, but i only wanted to see you, not disturb you.”

he moved a little closer to you, his horns slightly touching your own as he moved his forehead against yours, “you are never a disturbance to me, dear” he spoke, closing his eyes and taking a few breaths with you. 

but suddenly, it hurt.

“morax…” you opened, trailing off, unsure of how to convey what you wanted to say. instead, your eyebrows knit themselves together, and completely out of your control, a single tear rolled down your cheek, losing itself slowly to the fabric of your robe after making its way down your neck. 

he felt it, all of the emotions that were happening for you were making their way to him, his senses more amplified after having rested. “dear-” he said softly, voice breaking a little, hands and eyes searching your body for some sign of injury or pain, “did something hurt you, are you well?” his eyes were filled with concern for you, and somehow that made you feel worse. he stroked your cheek with one hand, the other rubbing up and down your arm. “tell me, what troubles you?” he asked quietly.

“you wouldn’t want to know,” you giggled a little, more tears suddenly escaping your face. “it is a futile complaint”

“tell me,” he said, bringing his hands to your cheeks and gently wiping away your tears, “i want to hear all of it” 

you were silent for some time after that, the dim environment of the cave allowing you to lean your head on rex lapis’ shoulder, holding his hand as the other was gently stroking over your hair, and slowly massaging at the base of your horns. 

“do you think we’ll ever be able to tell them?” you said, nothing more than a whisper. so quietly that if morax didn’t have such heightened senses, he wouldn’t have been able to hear it at all.

“tell who?” he said back, shoulder slightly vibrating against your cheek as he did.

“the others. do you think we can ever tell them about us?” you asked, absentmindedly staring at a single coin of mora across from you. upon its shiny surface was painted the image of rex lapis of one and his adepti. no. upon its surface was painted two people who were held in a love that had been finely crafted over centuries, each piece chiselled out like the stone of a statue. 

“do you want them to know?” he asked, turning his head a little to place a soft kiss upon your head, humming a little before turning back to face his hoard, leaning his head on top of yours.

you nodded a little, closing your eyes, unsure of what to say next.

“if you want them to know then we shall tell them. i doubt they will be upset about it. after all, i am the one in charge, no?” he chuckled a little, interlacing his fingers with yours. 

“you’d really tell them?” you asked, moving from the way you were sat, instead sitting up straight to look at him, holding both his hands in your own. 

“if that is what you want, then of course i will. i only wish you had told me sooner.” he smiled at you, standing up and pulling you with him. your eyes shone brightly as you beamed at him, and he moved a little closer to you to ask a very important question…

“would you like to rest with me for a little while?” 

you nodded, and within an instant he had whisked you to the top of his pile. he began circling around, trying to find a comfortable spot before inviting you to lay down by him, tapping on the space beside him, which was rather funny, because a few of his treasures rolled down the side of the hoard, which made him pout a little. 

you keenly moved to lay down beside him, resting your head on his arm. however, there was one major problem.

“this is kind of uncomfortable” you spoke, watching his face contort from being relaxed, to confused, to relieved. through his expressions you could already tell that he had found the solution. 

“here,” he yawned out, swiftly moving you to lay on his chest as he rolled on to his back. “better?”

you laughed a little, cheek against the robe which (barely) covered his chest. “much better”

he wrapped both his arms around your waist, every effort being made not to scrape you with his talons. and in this moment, that was when it hit you, more than ever before. every piece of care that he had for you and you for him, it was all for one cause…

“i love you, morax” you smiled softly, squeezing him a little.

finally, you had put words to it. after centuries, you had finally verbalised on the affection shared between the two of you. for the first time ever, you knew exactly what you felt. it was love. 

it is love. 

sfw masterlist || event masterlist

© tartigglez, 2023. do not copy, translate or repost, reblogs appreciated

[kitkatopinions]

I love when anti-rwde posters unintentionally say things that seem rwde lol. Here are my favorites so far:

The always good "Ironwood was always clearly an evil dictator" If this were true it would make the show worse than I already think it is, because not only did Team RWBY willingly work with him without any sort of recognition that it might be bad of them, but the writers have also talked about Ironwood's good intentions and the fall to villainy and how they wanted V7 to have no clear bad guy.

Whenever someone dismisses any early season as unimportant or something that no longer matters. Like, my guy, they're all supposed to matter and make up a good story together.

The people that say that the Blake and Yang ship is the exact same as Blake x Sun as a reason for why people who ship Blake with Sun but not Yang are wrong. Idk if they realize characters and dynamics are meant to be different and interesting.

The people who find redesigns of Yang where she's wearing clothing that's either the exact same level of 'modest' as the show or actually less sexualized and yell about how re-writers always overly sexualize Yang.

The people that defend every Jaune scene by saying he's just as much of a main character as Ruby. Like yes thank you for proving our point lol.

The people that constantly say important things just happen off screen. Things like main characters being friends, communicating important plot details to each other, showing grief at terrible deaths, unlearning racism... The more stuff people say happened off screen the more unintentionally insulting I think they're being because instead of saying "It was a mistake, they didn't have time, or they forgot" it's "they willfully didn't include it because they couldn't be bothered."

The people that say it's a good thing the entirety of Atlas was destroyed. Like personally I think the show could've done better at making Atlas and Mantle more varied but actually DID make it clear there were working class people and Faunus and good people just trying to make it that lived in Atlas and didn't deserve to lose everything. But apparently these people believe everyone in Atlas was some rich selfish asshole who deserved it and that would be very flimsy and bad writing.

The people who say that "drinking the tea" and "going to the tree" in V9 is actually just a metaphor for therapy. Like I know that Ruby essentially tried to commit suicide in V9. But I guess what they think what happened is that Neo was beating up Ruby while trying to make her get therapy, and everyone being a moment too late was them not arriving in time to stop Ruby from going to therapy, and when she fell down into the darkness that was symbolic of driving to her therapist's office, and when Yang was worried that Ruby wouldn't be herself anymore she actively was unhappy that Ruby was at therapy. Like how much worse written would V9 be if I actually believed what they did? XD

The people that insist that everything in RWBY was part of some super well thought out 'planned from the beginning' thing. Not only is that actually not a flex with a show that feels more disjointed, rushed, and ill-thought through with every season, but it's actively not what the writers say half the time when they do things like talk about how they 'wrote themselves into corners' and admit that at the beginning they were 'throwing things out and having to stick with it,' and having Blake's VA describe Blake as straight in official stuff and how they entirely reinvented Robin. Like either you think everything was not planned from the beginning or you think the writers are liars lol.

The people that actively just pretend or actually believe that the show is different than what it is, like the person who said RWBY was 'written by and for queer people' or the person who said Blake and Yang had been openly dating since V2 or the person who said Ruby was shown grieving Pyrrha way more than Jaune or the person who said that the RWBY villains were straight white men who weren't part of oppressed groups. What better way to prove that you actually don't like the show you're watching than to insist that it's a completely different show?

I'm sure there's more but those are the ones on my mind right now. XD Once again, I am certain that I have more love for RWBY than a lot of anti-rwde posters do.

[lightlycareless]

Heyy !!

I just wanted to request if you could write something about Naoya punishing us🤭😭 you can choose why he’s punishing us cuz I don’t have any ideas ;)

And like I was rereading some chapters of your fic with Naoya and omg like , your writing is really good I literally felt in a romance book , the way you wrote each character is amazing too and I just really appreciate your work I hope you will keep writing it 😭

Heya anon!!

Of course!!! I actually had to think a bit as to how he'd punish us... or more like how I would write it, since these are two things I'm not really that experienced with yet (Naoya is always rough, I mean, when does it become a punishment? or so that's my perception lol)

But I eventually settled with something I wanted to try :) I feel like Naoya would really love doing something like this when he's not that involved with you (He's busy lmao)

Anyways, here are the warnings: slight exhibitionism? One of Naoya's brother's got very unlucky. Use of vibrators, plugs, or so. kind of dub-con if you think about it, Naoya is also a manipulator, you're an enabler. Minors DNI!!!

Now, without further a do, happy reading!

“Y/N, are you…  alright?” After much debate, a member of your staff member, Mariya, says after silently observing the rising fluster of your cheeks or the slightest hesitation in your usually nimble hands.

“Ye—yeah.” You murmur, taking breath and exhaling. “I’m just overwhelmed, that’s all.”

“Oh, are you sure you don’t want to take a break?” she suggests, which you deny almost immediately by shaking your head.

“No, I just—I’ll be fine.” You insist, and Mariya begrudgingly lets you continue, attempting her best to move past her concern and focus on her duties.

But when she sees you struggle on the simplest of tasks yet again, she’s quickly reminded that more than helping you complete your duties, she’s there to ensure your well-being; so, after relegating part of your responsibilities to nearby staff, and essentially forcing you to accept this change, Mariya leads you onto your bedroom, intending to let you rest and recover—

Until bumping onto Naoya on the way there, who after taking a quick glance at your dismayed appearance, immediately relieves Mariya of her obligations and takes you to the bedroom himself.

A gesture she takes with great elation, glad that your husband had always been attentive to you—no doubt in her mind that you’re in much better hands now…

If only he weren’t the reason behind your ailment.

“So much for holding decorum, my love…” he says upon firmly closing the door behind him. A tone so threatening, you quickly turn around to face him and spew out your defense.

“Naoya—I wasn’t—Mariya didn’t—” you gasp.

“No, I get it.” He says. “She’s your friend, your loyal companion, someone that gives you security. Were you intending to gang up on me with her, perhaps? Use her to avoid the inevitable?”

“What? N—no…!” you fretted, he closes the distance between the two. “Nao—ya—”

“On the futon—now.”

You obey immediately, making your way over to the futon and taking a seat just by the edge, fingers fidgeting amongst with other before mustering enough courage to glance up to him, flinching when seeing the smirk on his face, the indication his following acts would be nothing but etched with dark intentions—

Something you were nothing but fearful, and unprepared to face.

“You know what you ought to be doing, princess” Naoya says as he walks over to you. You try your best to move away from him, far and safe from his retribution…

But too deep into your own terror, all you could do instead is whimper as you remained there, anxiously taking in the scrutinizing way his eyes scan your body.

If he noticed the result of such struggle, he did not say. Yet, it wouldn’t take much to guess that your reaction, far from offending him, would only excite him.

“Don’t act all innocent now, it’s unbefitting of a whore like you.” He frowns. “Do not make me repeat myself.’

Pushing through the fear and embarrassment your following actions were to provide, your hands carefully grip the edges of your kimono skirt and lift it, effectively revealing the culprit behind your shaky morning, a sight that makes Naoya’s satisfaction grow, kneeling to your level so he could get a better look at the situation you’ve gotten yourself in—

All because you were a needy princess for attention.

Filling your cunt, was a vibrator that had been diligently working the moment Naoya placed it within you early in the morning—faithfully keeping you company throughout your various duties while he cruelly played with its settings from afar.

He’d either give you a false sense of comfort by lowering the vibrations, almost undetectable, enough to allow your mind to dwell onto other matters… before reminding you of your naivety by rising it to the maximum and forcing you onto disconcerting consequences.

There was no way Naoya knew where you were, or whom you were with when alternating between settings, but you wouldn’t put it beneath him to have found a way to do so—specially with what happened earlier: to the moment you were pushed dangerously close to the edge, a simple matter of enduring few more seconds of stimulation before coming undone—

And right before one of his brothers, the most innocent of all: Naofumi.

At that, you couldn’t help but suspect Naoya knew what you were doing all along, carefully planning the moment where Naofumi would naturally worry if you were ok, if you’ve perhaps been struck with an unprecedented sickness, and if there was something he could do to help you…

Before finally placing the pieces together the longer your heavy breathing went on, as the color in your cheeks deepened.

Once evident, Naofumi quickly excused himself and sprinted past the door, into the hallways and away from the scaring image of his sister-in-law having an orgasm right before him.

Oh, Naoya would’ve undoubtedly killed to see something like that.

But for now, he supposes he’ll do with what he has now.

“Fits you quite well, doesn’t it?” he says, fingers teasingly sliding across the edge of your lips, giving them a light pull and getting a better view of its lovely pink color, before licking his lips at the way your bud twitches, eventually refocusing on the other equally cruel part of this intricate arrangement:

A nicely fitting plug placed in your ass, capable of stimulating your greedy rim through various vibrations, yet decorated with a beautiful shiny pink jewel—because a desperate princess like you still deserved only the nicest.

“I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to satisfy your needy holes, but of course, my beautiful wife can never disappoint.”

Unless, of course, when you did.

“Naoya—” you whine, invertedly pushing your hips into his touch, crying when he pulls away. “Naoya please—”

“Are you serious?” He laughs, as if he couldn’t find your behavior any more amusing. “Didn’t you have enough today? You still want more?”

“I want—I want you—” you breathe, trying to rub your legs together, his hands stop you.

“Of course you do, slut.” Naoya spats. “Can’t get enough of that can you? It’s how you got into this situation, after all—because like the desperate whore you are, you always have to be looking for someone to fuck you.”

“No— No Naoya.” You frantically shake your head, before trying your best to reach for him—Naoya pushes you back. “I only want you!”

“That’s not what it looked like that day.” He growls, releasing his grasp over you, soon hearing his pants unfastening—the sight and sound sends a jolt of heat towards your cunt, making you clench in eagerness. “Don’t lie to me!”

“I would never—ah!” Naoya shuts you by landing his hand against your cunt, a loud slap and a stinging aftermath leaving you to ponder on your supposed lies. “I could never—I could never do that! —I love—”

But your words weren’t ones he could consider truthful anymore, not when he’d seen the evidence with his own two eyes:

The infuriating image of you gleefully laughing alongside his brother, the most insufferable of all, Naoaki, when he’s told you countless times to keep the fuck away from him.

Sure, he could admit knowing you were only being amicable for his sake, upkeeping your reputation as respectable lady of the house and honoring all that Naoya has worked for—but it still angered him, in such way many wouldn’t be able to comprehend, not even in the slightest, because just as he knew you, he also knew his brothers.

Saw right through their envious intentions, their jealous, lustful motivations.

Which only fueled him to let everyone know you were his.

That he’s the one you married, the one he’s claiming every single night, filling with his seed, chanting his name like it was some kind of prayer, and soon—carrying his child.

Seems a reminder is long overdue. And what better way to do so than continuously putting you through a state his foolish brothers could only dream of achieving…

But to Naoya, all he had to do was ask.

“I love you” you whimper when he pulls out the vibrator from your cunt, swiftly and without warning, leaving you empty, yet eager, for you wholeheartedly expected this agonizing void to be replaced by his intoxicating warmth…

You’d get it, of course, but not the way you anticipated, nor wanted—for Naoya would tell you that in order to obtain what you desired, you’d have to convince him you’re worthy of his cock, the pleasure you’ve been agonizingly longing for, even when overstimulated—

And like the ever-dutiful wife, you’d oblige, taking his member into your mouth and eagerly bobbing your head up and down his shaft, doing your best to show just how much you loved the entirety of him—from the tip of his head, to the prominent vein on the underside… there’s nothing more blissful than to be filled to the brim with his hardness and seed.

When feeling him close to his release, through the familiar sound of his shaky voice, tightly shut eyes as his head is thrown to the back, while heavily grunting just how good you’re making him feel, you tried to pull away from him, make him reconsider finishing inside your cunt instead.

But once more, you weren’t to receive such blessings—not when you had yet to comply with the cruel requirements of said punishment—so instead, Naoya simply pulls you back to his cock, nose against his pelvis as he does one, two, three more thrusts before emptying his seed into your mouth.

You moan at the warm strings flooding your throat, hands tightly clenching at his legs as you do your best to fight against the choking sensation his intruding member forced onto you—but as difficult this task was, your mind could only focus on the fire underneath, and the desolation you were dying to ease—

“N—No, Naoya…!” you’d cry when realizing that the only time he’d touch your cunt was to fill you with his seed but void of the pleasure he’d always given you when doing so. Instead, relegated solely to preserve his future heirs, safely guarded deep into tight walls and sealed with the same vibrator as before, to ensure nothing goes to waste. “It’s not—It’s not fair!”

A cry that makes him smirk, before his face turns sour at seeing your hands reach for your bud, undoubtedly seeking release through your own merits, him quickly peeling it away.

“If you touch yourself one more time—I’ll have you walk naked around the estate!”

There’s sincerity behind his tone, all the intentions of keeping his words if you fail once more, clear in his eyes.

And thus, without putting up a fight, you sorrowfully accept his condition, tears in your eyes as you’re bound to face another hour yet again without coming undone through the care and warmth of your husband.

Though Naoya would remind you that his actions aren’t of a cruel man, but rather, of fair one, by pressing a kiss on your cheeks, lips wiping away your tears as he sweetly reassures you…

“Just don’t do it next time, ok?” Naoya coos as he places a soft peck onto your lips, you continue quietly sobbing. “You know how I feel when you talk to my brothers… do you really want it to be like this, always?”

You shake your head.

No, of course not. You’d rather die than make your husband upset.

“Then be a good girl and do as I say.” Naoya carefully grabs your face, making you turn to him—watery eyes looking up to his surprisingly soft, promising ones. “Can you do that? Can the future mother of my children obey me?”

At the promise of becoming the mother to his heirs, your heart flutters, a soft smile appearing on your lips before eagerly revealing your response.

“Yes.”

A guarantee that would briefly provide a glimpse of your undying loyalty towards him, willing to do not only that, but more—from keeping your hands away from your burning cunt, eyes stray of all men but him, to eagerly taking his seed and only his seed, preparing for the day you’d announce you were with child…

There was nothing you wouldn’t do for Naoya. Happy to accept your punishments for actions you weren’t even aware of…

As long as you had his love.

I was actually upset that I didn't write y/n wearing a vibrator/plug on this oneshot over here, like, commit to it, you know?! That would've sent Naoya over the edge waaay earlier.

Also, thank you so much for your lovely words!! I'm so glad you're liking my fic so far :') It's always such an honor... and I've long promised myself that even if it took me a while, I will finish it!! I have to... I owe it to myself and y'all....

Anyways, thank you so much for sending in this ask!!! :> I hope it was worth the wait! I got to write something I wanted to try out... hehe. Totally worth it.

Now, take care and hope to see you soon ❤️

[julilovesyou444]

the only exception ~ tom kaulitz

background: you and Tom had been hooking up for a while now, probably close to around half a year. you had a big crush on him but were very aware that he didn’t do relationships, so even though you were ‘physically’ with him, you never let yourself get super emotionally attached. Tom couldn’t say the same for himself, though. He wanted you, and only you.

warnings: nothing much just kissing and swearing lol

a/n~ sorry for being m.I.a!! I had to visit my dad in serbia and it sucked because I hate my dad and he hates me lolllll speaking of I wrote a fic that was requested where like the ready has daddy issues and tom like helps her through it but I think I made it wayyyy to like serious I think the word is? and its very long so I’m considering scrapping it idk, also I’m getting to all ur requests that I wanna do dont worry !!

~

“hello?”, i said, picking up my phone. it was tom, my long-term fling. I can’t remember exactly how I met him, or exactly how we started hooking-up. I had heard about his band before we met, and I thought they were cool, but i didn’t quite understand just how popular they were. Until after meeting Tom, i didnt know about his ‘reputation’ either. I didn’t know until after the first time we hooked up. He had made us trade numbers, and i was expecting a call at least a day or two after we had seen each other, but nothing. I decided to do some research, just to find out that the boy i was crushing on was in fact a hardcore player. A womanizer, if you will. Part of me wanted to never go out with him again, the smart part of me. But another part of me wanted him so badly, so overwhelmingly bad that I went with my heart instead of my head. I liked Tom, I really did. I couldn’t help it. But I didn’t want myself to get hurt, so I expected just about nothing from him. We fuck and then it’s over. Whenever he would ask me to stay the night or do any of that stuff, I would politely decline and leave. Sometimes we would go out and do non-sexual things, but they always ended sexual. I learned to become okay with that, and I ultimately stopped expecting us to do anything that was hooking up.

“Hey, are you busy?”, he asked.

“Hmm, i dont know, maybe, depends on why you’re calling.”, I teased. he chuckled.

“Uh-huh… well I was thinking, that if you’re free, I could take you out somewhere.”

“take me out, huh? is that code for fucking?”, this earned me another laugh.

“no, no, it can be, but I want to actually take you out.”, he chuckled.

“are you asking me out on a date?”, i asked, a little confused.

“…yes?”

I was quiet for a second, apparently a second too long.

“look if you dont want to, we don’t have to, I just thought-“, he started.

“no, no! sorry! I was thinking but yes, I’m free and we should go out!”, I interrupted. I heard him release a breath he was holding, probably one he didn’t intend for me to hear.

“okay, yea, cool. when can I pick you up?”

“hmm let’s say in about 30 minutes? does that work?”

“perfect.”

“mhm, I’ll see you then.”

“bye.”, he said just before I hung up.

tom kaulitz. taking me out on a date?? what????

I got up almost immediately and started to get ready. I wanted to look as cute as possible. I ran over to my wardrobe and searched through it for a good five minutes. I found this super cute, also pretty tiny, pleated denim skirt and this purple and black top that had a lot of lace detailing and these little puffy princess sleeves. I put on some jewelry, makeup, and these black boots I had. I left my hair down, i noticed that when I did, Tom always complimented it. I grabbed my purse and threw some gum, lipgloss, my phone, and my little digital camera in there.

I glanced at the clock and saw that he should be here any minute. I stepped outside and waited for about 3 minutes, which would’ve been fine, if it wasn’t as cold as it was. I didn’t feel like going back in, just in case he showed up right as i did. I was shivering a tiny bit and got some goosebumps, but to my relief, and pulled in front of my house not too much later. I got in, the warm air of his car heaters hitting me.

“shit, you look freezing. how long were you out there for?”, Tom asked, looking genuinely concerned.

“I’m cold but I’m fine.”, I laughed it off.

“okay, do you need a jacket or-“

“No!! I’m serious! I’m okay.”, I laughed some more.

“okay, okay! just checking.”, he smiled. I watched as his eyes did a quick scan over me.

“you look pretty. your hair looks really nice too.”, he said, his eyes averting back forward as he began to drive away.

“thank you. you don’t look too bad yourself.”

he playfully rolled his eyes but he couldn’t help but smile as well.

“sooo… where are we going?”, I questioned.

“you’ll see.”

“Oh, c’mon. I hate surprises.”

“You’ll like this one, trust me.”

I sighed and faced myself back forward. Some radio station was playing softly in the background as we raced down the highway.

the drive to the mystery place wasn’t far, only a 20 minute drive, which I filled with a lot of talking. mainly about random stuff, Tom telling a few jokes which never failed to make me laugh. He pulled into a parking lot which only had a few other cars. I looked around, it looked like we were at some kind of fancy park. A garden maybe? He leaned over the center console and grabbed something from the backseat.

Tom dropped a large black zip up jacket in my lap.

“My jacket, so you aren’t freezing your ass off the entire time.”

“Oh, thank you.”, i said quietly. He got out of the car and made his way to the back. I followed his lead, getting out of the car, putting on the jacket but not zipping it. I walked around to the back of the car where the trunk was open. There were two big woven picnic baskets. Tom grabbed both and I shut the trunk door as he began to walk off. I caught up with him.

“Do you want me to carry one?”, i motioned to the baskets.

“It’s okay, just follow me.”, he said, continuing his venture into the park. I followed close behind.

We didn’t walk for long, it was a really beautiful park. There were lots of flowers and little benches everywhere. Lots of really big and beautiful trees too. We stopped in front of this big pond, the water was so clear you could see the miniature fish swimming. there was a swan that swam around too.

Tom opened one of the baskets, revealing a big blanket. Without a word, I helped him spread it out over the fluffy grass. He sat down on it and patted the little space next to him, indicating for me to sit down as well. I did. He grabbed the other basket next to him and moved it to be in front of us. Tom opened it and inside were a ton of snacks. All of my favorites. I was shocked to say the least.

“Oh my god, how did you know?”, i said, mouth slightly agaped. He looked proud of himself.

“You mentioned some of your favorite snacks once or twice.”, he nonchalantly shrugged.

“This is lovely, Tom.”, I replied, sounding as genuine as I ever had. His eyes met mine and I gave him a little smile which he returned.

“What is all of this for?”, i added.

“Just wanted to do something nice for you, I guess.”, he mumbled and looked away.

I gently placed my hand over his, his head turned to mine.

“I appreciate it, I really do.”, i smiled. my thumb caressed his hand for a second.

“I like spending time with you, y’know? even when we’re not…”, he trailed off. I laughed, taking my hand off his, an action that didn’t go unnoticed by Tom.

I grabbed one of the many snacks he packed and started to eat. In between bites, I would ramble about different things. He always would just listen to me talk, admiring me as he did. This went on for a while. Tom started eating some. Somewhere in the midst of this, my position changed. I now had my head laid across his legs, my legs stretched out and my hair splayed all over his lap. i stopped eating and just started talking. Tom gazed down at me. Eventually he lit a cigarette and started smoking. He held the cigarettes between his pointer and middle finger, moving it down for me to take a puff. I did, peering into his eyes as I did so. They weren’t filled with their normal lust, but they looked like they had something else in them. I couldn’t figure it out.

Tom talked some too, mainly making crude jokes. I always laughed, no matter how stupid. I think he enjoyed that.

He took a hit and then leaned over, his mouth hovering over mine. I opened and allowed him to blow the smoke in my mouth. He sat back up and watched as slowly blew it out.

“I know this isn’t a normal thing to do when we ‘meet up’, but i really like it.”, Tom said, his fingers intertwined with the ends of my hair.

“Really?”, i asked. I knew for a fact he enjoyed my body, but I wasn’t aware he liked spending time with me when we weren’t doing one another.

“yea… why’s that so shocking?”

“Um, i dont know. I guess I thought you really only wanted sex from me.”

“Oh.”

“Yea..”

“Uh, I guess that’s just what I wanted at first. But the more I started seeing you, the more I wanted to see you again.”

“Oh?”

“Yea, and whenever I would invite you to stay over or do anything like that, you would always say no. Kind of assumed you were the one who only wanted me for sex.”

“I don’t, I just assumed you were trying to be polite or something. It’s stupid, I guess.”

“No, it’s not. At this point, you know me and you know the reputation I have, so i understood why you thought that.”

“Sorry…”, I muttered, feeling a little embarrassed.

“Don’t be sorry.”

We sat in silence for a few moments, but it wasn’t awkward.

“I was thinking about maybe doing this kinda thing more often with you, I mean, we can still do our normal things we do, but maybe we can start doing more of this too.”

“What? Like go on dates?”, i furrowed my brows.

“Yea, something like that.”

“I feel like that’s something only couples do.”, i sorta laughed. He was quiet, which made me sit up, I looked over at him. He was staring at his lap in my absence.

“Is that… not a possibility?”, he murmured.

“But… I thought you dont do commitment? and relationships?”

“Yea, i dont usually.”

“I can’t go on dates with you and act all boyfriend-girlfriend unless you are actually going to commit. I’m not going to do that to myself, Tom. I can’t let myself get hurt like that.”, i said quietly but sternly. I had to be sensible, i didn’t want to be just another girl that got fooled by Tom Kaulitz.

“I know, but i want to try.”, he looked up at me with pleading eyes.

“What changed? What’s different now than from when I first met you?”, I asked, still unsure.

“I hate talking about my feelings.”, he huffed.

“I’m not gonna judge you or anything, I just need to know.”

“You changed me. You did. I didn’t want to date any of the girls I hooked up with for one night because they just weren’t worth it and they didn’t mean that much to me. You’re one of the only girls I’ve consistently seen for more than a month. I haven’t gotten with any other girl than you for like 4 months. I don’t know what it is about you, but I can’t ignore it. And I want more of you. More than just the physical aspects. Dont get me wrong, I love those parts of you too, but i want you for more than just your body. Dude, I can’t stop saying stupid ass jokes to you just because I want to hear your laugh. So yeah, I haven’t ever really commited before because I didn’t really do relationship. But, for you, it’s different. You are the only exception.”

“What? Really? I had zero idea you felt that way at all…”, I replied, astounded.

“Well I do feel that way and have for a little while now.”

“You aren’t playing with me, right?”, i asked, still not believing it.

“Really?? I practically just confessed myself to you and you still don’t believe me?”

“Okay, I’m sorry! You’re right, this was just, unexpected from you.”

“So… what do you think?”

“I want you too, Tom.”, I managed to say. A smile grew on his once nervous face. He cupped my face in his hands and began to lean in.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Mhm.”, i responded. He kissed me so passionately, I felt like I was floating. My hand went to his jaw, my thumb subconsciously tracing little hearts on his lower cheek. I could feel him smile into the kiss. I pulled away, my forehead still connected with his. I started giggling a little, looking away and hiding my face.

“Oh, c’mon. Dont be shy, now.”, Tom pulled my back towards him so I was leaned against his frame, his arms wrapped around my torso. He left little kisses on the top of my head.

“Wow.”

“Hm?”, he hummed.

“Can’t believe I was your only exception.”, i said with a cocky smile in attempt to poke fun at him.

I could feel him roll his eyes.

“Uh-huh, whatever. Its true.”

“I kinda never thought this day would come.”, i said, my finger trailing up and down his, that rested on my stomach.

“Yea, me too, I guess. But I’m glad that it did.”

I smiled, turning my head around to kiss him again.

A new beginning.

His first real relationship.

It was me, I was his only exception.

Something about that phrase made me feel like the most special girl in the world.

~

[goodlucktai]

tagged by @bobtheacorn like...... 3 weeks ago 😭 my bad

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

283

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

1,353,670

which seems.......excessive

3. What fandoms do you write for?

actively, one piece and tmnt, but that is ruled by the demons in my brain that control the hyperfixation machine.

fandoms ive posted 3 or more fics for:

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Natsume Yuujinchou | Natsume's Book of Friends Good Omens Final Fantasy XV Undertale Mumintroll | Moomins Series Harry Potter Young Justice 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia 陈情令 | The Untamed King Falls AM Percy Jackson and the Olympians Rise of the Guardians Voltron: Legendary Defender

4. Top five fics by kudos?

Exclusivity - 11,116

walk straight through hell with a smile - 9,152

Inanition - 9,039

there is thunder in our hearts - 8,161

trouble is a friend of mine - 7,842

5. Do you respond to comments?

i do try to but i can't always :'( and i feel terrible if i manage to reply to most and then forget someone and only realize it months later. but i read every single comment and i appreciate them more than i have words for

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

i tend to veer away from angst, but off the top of my head....

where the good men go or if i go i'm going on fire

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

99% of my fics have a happy ending because thats my BRAND but i suppose give me something that'll haunt me when you're not around or the weekend we were in love OR put your empty hands in mine

8. Do you get hate on fics?

not often, but i recently had someone who REALLY disliked the way things change because i 'villainized' raph. which is definitely news to me, since raphael is the love of my life

9. Do you write smut?

nope

10. Craziest crossover?

i wrote a tmnt/one piece crossover once ? but now that we are actually getting a tmnt/naruto idw run it doesnt feel that weird to me anymore

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

only once if i'm remembering right ?? it was a long time ago and wattpad related, which is a site that i dont really understand and therefore tend to avoid

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

yes ! i'll often have people request to translate my stories and it blows me away every time

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

Devil took your hand was written by myself and @moogsthewriter

14. All time favourite ship?

ineffable husbands, wangxian, or leosagi

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

how much time do you have 😭

16. What are your writing strengths?

i want to say characterization and narrative voice. i'm also pretty good at maintaining a throughline, even if it sometimes gets a little wobbly

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

conflict ! i hate it ! i will avoid writing it at all costs ! i also tend to struggle with writing fight scenes, especially when there are several characters involved :') staging any kind of choreography is my opp

18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

i try not to but if it feels unavoidable i google the heck out of it

19. First fandom you wrote in?

honestly it was either digimon (which also inspired my og penname) or xiaolin showdown lol

20. Favourite fic you've written?

i'm stealing bob's idea and going top 5:

there is thunder in our hearts - this story came together so easily for me, like i knew exactly how i wanted to tell it from start to finish

the only hoax i believe in - a kfam fic in my top 5s why yes and i'll tell you why. because i poured so much of myself into this fic that they could probably read it at my funeral instead of a eulogy

traveling so far to get there - after party au raph and mikey continue to take up so much real estate in my brain and for what

now the darkness comes alive - this one is more recent but im so happy with the way it turned out :')

if we could stay all day in the sun - it was a lot of fun reimagining one of my favorite fairy tales and doing a bunch of unnecessary research for this story i will stand by it until the day i die !!

i'm tagging @mykimouser, @owletstarlet, @portgas-d-aroace, @mad4turtles, @camsthisky, @remedyturtles, @pickledcarrotsandradish, @swordsmans, @mangogreent, and anyone else who wants to !

[fangirleaconmigo]

Guys. I'm gonna be very real with you here. And I'm sure it will piss off a few people. So I'm not tagging it. You can rb if you want, but I'm not tagging it. This is for you to do with as you please.

Ok. Here it is. We don't know what happened behind the scenes. We don't. We truly don't. And please be real.

HCav (not using the full name because I don't want to put it in the search results) is a massive global superstar, gorgeous, rich, beloved, AND incredibly incredibly incredibly good at pr. He has legions of fans and more access to media than almost any other celebrity.

All he has to do is very tactfully, in a few interviews, refuse to compliment the writers and instead steer the conversation to his love of the books, and voila. When he leaves this show, everyone blames someone else. Like. I've seen like two people mad at him. That's it. And that is what he did. He is very very smart.

This is the man who managed to convince millions of nerdy fanboys that he is 'just like them' that he is 'one of them'. Do you know how hard that is for someone who looks like him? lol

It used to be that when Hcav was cast in something nerdy, they'd bitch. "He's too pretty" (they want to project hard onto the hero, and their ideal is a rugged man which they associate more closely with old fashion masculinity. They also always complain the opposite of the female lead...she's never pretty or hot enough. But that's a different convo.) But despite that, HCav has painstakingly convinced them over the course of several years, that he is 'just like them'. It's like...the miracle that he has pulled off is THEE pr accomplishment of this century.

I am not saying that HCav is not a nerd. I'm not saying that he doesn't work hard or take the material seriously. I'm saying that it is far too easy for everyone watching this unfold, to just call him Jesus, and vilify everyone else, all while have zero fucking idea of what happened behind the scenes.

"Yes but Des, we know it's the writers' fault, because the show writing does suck, and the showrunner herself says that Cav was always the one who tried to fit in passages from the books."

Yes. Ok. But the problem I have with the writing is never the details. It's the overarching plotlines. HCav knew her vision when he signed on. When he fought for that role. They had so many meetings. Netflix told her to carry out her own vision, that's what she said she'd do, and he knew that.

All I'm saying is, no matter what you think of the writing, he is not a passive victim here. He was not betrayed. It's just grown folks having differences. That's it! And he couldn't write that show. Him adding lines here and there is the easiest thing. Would he be able to write an entire season's worth of scripts? (It's harder than it looks. It takes years of honing that craft.) No. He wouldn't, nor would he want to. The pay cut alone would be so staggering I'm sure he would have to sell several ocean front properties.

"Yes, but Des, the former writer said that people on the show hate the books. Surely that drove him away."

Babes. The guy who said that is the one who wrote S2E2 AND Nightmare of the Wolf. lmaoooosob. I would rather have a writer on the show who critiques some elements of the books (THEY ARE NOT ABOVE CRITIQUE) but actually understands what a witcher is and what that means in context of class, and who understands their oppressions, than someone who thinks the books are perfect, but took from those books that witcher are....THAT. That Vesemir is THAT.

Secondly, again, we don't know what happened. Another staff writer implied on twitter that there was ego and abuse issues. So WE DON'T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED.

The point is, it is sooooooooooo fucking easy when you've left to blame everyone else. That's petty as shit what that departing writer did, and like...it works! It is guaranteed to work and he knew it.

Which leads us to the most uncomfortable truth here, and that is that what that writer did and to a lesser extent what HCav did, is weaponize a multitude of these racist cishet white nerdboys who harass and loathe Anna and Anya and Mimi and all these woc. These people live in a constant abusive rage online, and the root of their rage is that the witcher is diverse and 'woke'. If you haven't been on twitter or reddit or youtube and seen the relentless vile open racism in the most organized and loudest elements that attack the writers and Lauren, then I envy you. It is a cesspool.

When that departing writer threw them under the bus, he knew exactly what would happen and who he would rile up.

"Are you implying that if you hate the writing, you're misogynistic and racist."

No. Obviously not. I have criticized the writing and I will probably continue to do so on occasion.

I've been accused of being a 'book purist' but I assure you I'm not. Just give me good writing. Just give me a good story. And keep the characters true to their spirits. And if that isn't what is delivered, I might write a post with critique in it.

But what I won't do is publicly pile on people, on human beings, for business decisions and deals that happen behind the scenes, people who have no control over this, no fame, and no way to defend themselves.

This is how it works.

The showrunner decides the plot of the season. The staff writers are assigned episodes. They write what they're told to write. A lot of these staff writers and writer assistants make near poverty wages (for people living in L.A. Dear god. The cost to live there is staggering).

What I'm not gonna do is publicly blame them for driving away 'poor little hcav' lmao this incredibly incredibly powerful, wealthy global superstar who makes his own fucking decisions and whose race and gender protects him if his money and fame didn't.

Were there creative differences? Probably.

Did he also walk out on a show instead of working it out because he got a better offer? Definitely.

And was he INCREDIBLY INCREDIBLY savvy about very gently and subtly throwing them under the bus in every interview in order to preserve his fanboy following and his reputation going forward?

YES

Because these studios know that if they adapt existing properties of these past comic books and novels and then they put a foot wrong, they will have legions of these toxic racist cishet white nerdboy fuckers review bombing, harrassing, stalking, making rape and death threats to actors, and if they get HCav they know that's not going to happen. The fanboys worship the ground he walks on. The fact that he delivers that to them is a HUGE plus in his favor. And then he also delivers the straight women. (and the bis, we won't leave us out, I did think he looked great grimy in a bathtub)

The issue is, back in the day, when these adapted properties (in the broader sense) novels and comic books were being published, 99% of English language publishing was run by white men and everyone else was excluded. If we are going to adapt them today, we can choose to uphold that white supremacy by continuing to exclude every other race from participating in the projects, thereby extending that white supremacy, and becoming agents of it, or we can cast the best actor for the role, regardless of race. And when that happens the backlash is swift. Because white people think only white people can be ethereal beauties (elves) they think only white people can be seductive, smoking hot sorceresses, they think only white people pilot space ships in the future and kiss heroic leading men.

It happened with Rings of Power, in Wheel of Time, in Star Wars, and more! Legions of racists and misogynists organize and make life a living hell for everyone else. They do not want to share their toys.

Yes, there is room for critique and dislike of these properties without being racist. I'm not talking about people who have real critique. (I have critique! I'm a mouthy, wordy bitch!) I'm talking about people who complain about 'woke' properties and who spew racial epithets at these beautiful talented actresses.

HCav never once that I saw stood up for the diverse casting of his female costars (Please prove me wrong and send me some interview where he did) and he could have. Again, I'm not demonizing him. He is focused and ambitious and stays in his lane and looks out for his career. But he does not go the extra mile for them. And he sure as shit doesn't need one more person (me) deifying him, trying to suck him off, and in the other breath, throwing all these women and poc under the bus for him.

Look, for example, the difference with other properties. Like The Walking Dead. Andrew Lincoln literally never shuts up about how much he loves Danai being his 'leading lady'. And look at how Ewan McGregor took up for Moses Ingram. (not his leading lady, but his colleague) Just saying. It is possible. So.

This recast is weird.

It sucks.

But.

It's no one's fault.

It just is.

And we move on.

I got Joey Batey out of this. I got The Amazing Devil out of this. I got Madeleine Hyland out of this. I got the witcher book saga out of this. (I had only vaguely heard the names here and there but would have never read them otherwise) I got an amazing fandom community out of this that I will continue to write for and be a part of.

And I am not going to start screaming at working people in the streets for something they had little to no control over.

And lastly, "but you said Lauren has control over it, and surely she does get paid a ton of money. So surely this rich white lady isn't blameless in this. Surely she deserve the criticism she gets."

My guess is they are both grown ass adults who are fallible and are equally to blame. It doesn't help infantilizing or deifying him. And I can critique her work without vilifying her.

I can go write the Milva post I've been drafting for months being absolutely livid about her tweet saying Milva "embodies unrequited romance" without harrassing her. Please look at the difference here. IT IS ABOUT THE WORK. IT IS ABOUT THE STORY.

It is never personal. I would never make it personal. It's just different visions about fiction. And I would never pretend to know what happens in real life with real people behind the scenes.

And I know that no one who follows me on here is the kind of person who would harass her. At least I hope. I'm almost positive. So I'm not accusing anyone of anything. And if you hate the writing and the direction of the show you are entitled to that. I have done my own critical posts.

But again, I do not know what happened behind the scenes. So I'm staying in my lane. I've lived long enough now to see people get blamed and harassed for things and then we get documentaries twenty years later showing that people were totally in the wrong and just didn't know what happened behind the scenes.

So I will not be doing that.

And I will keep supporting Joey and Anya and Myanna and Mimi and all the people acting their little hearts out on the show. And I will keep talking about the books and writing my lil fics.

And when the show is over, I will probably follow Joey to whatever other projects he goes to. But I won't ever stop being a witcher fan or a TAD fan. That's a 'for life' thing at this point.

[prettyboybuckley]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

tagged by @saybiwithme @bi-buckrights @zainclaw

How many works do you have on ao3?

160

What's your total ao3 word count?

1,070,239

What fandoms do you write for?

I've mostly written for 9-1-1, though I started off with Shameless (6 fics) and I have written some for Teen Wolf (5 fics). There's one 9-1-1 crossover with Schitt's Creek.

Top five fics by kudos:

parents always yelling (telling us to get our acts together)

i just want something to hold on to (and a little of that human touch)

I will come to you (even in my sleep)

open up again (i believe in second chances)

exes and the oh's

Do you respond to comments?

Always, even if it takes me months. I actually just caught up again (there's still a bunch to go, but right now the oldest is 17 days ago instead of 250 days...). It's just a rule I have for myself, and even with the backlog I've kept it up so far, so I'm not going to stop doing it now.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I'm not a big fan of angsty endings, I generally try to at least make it a hopeful ending or, in the case of the college au, use an epilogue to fix things.

But I guess sunny skies & summer highs qualifies as an angsty ending simply because of the cliffhanger (and yes, there is still going to be a continuation, I'm working on it 🙈).

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

Choosing one out of 160 is really hard, but I think tell me, will you stay or will you run away is definitely one that deserves a mention here, because it already has a happy ending and then the epilogue just makes it even better 🥰

Do you get hate on fics?

Not commented on the fic itself, no. I've had some people talk shit about my fics on twitter, though, and not even vaguely but calling me by (user)name.

Do you write smut?

Is grass green? Yeah, I write smut 🤭 Thanks to two times kinktober, I have 95 explicit fics, by far the most used rating for my fics.

Craziest crossover:

let's have some fun tonight is my 9-1-1/Schitt's Creek crossover fic for 9-1-1 Rarepair Week, and my only crossover fic

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

My head over feet Buddie valentine's two-parter got posted as one chapter in Wattpad work with over 30 fics once. Filed a DMCA and Wattpad took it down within two hours.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Two of my fics have been translated into Russian afaik, one on ao3 and one on Ficbook

Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

Nope. It may be a nice challenge for the future? Not sure who I'd do it with.

All time favourite ship?

Gotta go for Buddie on that one, lol. Especially if you look at my writing history. But I often tend to hyperfixate on one ship at a time (current reading obsession is McDanno)

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Buck's POV of if love is art then you might be my masterpiece. I really want to, but at this point it's been two years since the original so I don't know if it'd be worth it either. (I know not everyone was happy about how I ended it, but I doubt any of them are still waiting for more). Writing a different POV of the same fic takes an amount of planning that my brain just really struggles with. And I could pick up where the last chapter (before the epilogue) picks up, but I think that way there would be some crucial information about Buck missing.

What are your writing strengths?

I've been told quite a lot of times that I am good at keeping characters, well, in character, even when putting them in partial or complete AU's. Of course, what is in character or not is subjective, but I do always challenge myself to work as much of the canon backstory and personality into who they are in the AU as possible.

And I like to think I'm pretty good at writing smut.

What are your writing weaknesses?

I'm terrible at pacing, which multiple of my long fics prove. It'll be drawn out first and then suddenly rushing. And being ESL I do struggle with things like sentence structure and grammar pretty regularly still.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

As long as there is some kind of translation provided somewhere I like it, but I'm not so quick to use it myself. Not beyond a few Spanish words here and there (generally pet names between Eddie and his family we've seen on the show or the occasional curse word when I feel it fits better than an English one, but I usually need to employ help from Spanish-speaking friends for those).

First fandom you wrote in?

Shameless! I binged that right before I started 9-1-1 and combined with the creative writing minor I was doing, it was actually what got me back into writing in general and what made me write my first ever fic.

Favorite fic you've written?

My in your arms i feel safe-series (which I always lovingly refer to as the ace kink fic) is definitely one of my favorites simply because of how personal it is to me and for the reason behind me writing it in the first place.

Other strong contenders are i would've loved you forever (it's never enough but i wanted it to be) and i'm begging you, come home to me (Teen Wolf, Thiam)

tagging @monsterrae1 @rogerzsteven @loserdiaz @watchyourbuck

[englishsub]

fic writer meme!

i was tagged by @microcomets and @cairoscene :) thank you friendz

1. how many works do you have on ao3?

22, which is both more and less than i expected.

2. what's your total ao3 wordcount?

529,320

3. what fandoms do you write for?

i've branched out in recent years; like my fellow taggers, i write for fewer fandoms that i'm in. food takes ages to cook and even longer to actually commit to. i started with mdzs/cql and tgcf before moving to shl/tyk, though now i mostly write trigun and video game fic.

4. what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

爱不释手; never let me go

总有一天; a place to hide (can’t find one near)

花无百日红; the flower that withers

在此恭迎夷陵老祖; to yiling laozu, the great and venerable

蓝色生死恋; a blue love (to live and to die for)

me 🤝 cair wangxian monopoly

5. do you respond to comments?

not usually - if the comment jumps out in some way or asks a question about podficcing i might, but i generally don't. i read every single one and hold them close to my heart, though.

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

LOL it's an open ending but the implications are pretty clear - 美丽的日子; beautiful days

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

most of them end happy, except when they don't :)

8. do you get hate on fics?

not really. i did for a stint back in 2021 when that anon was going around but it was honestly very funny for me.

9. do you write smut?

sometimes.

10. do you write crossovers? what's the craziest one you have written?

just the one time, not usually. it was a threadfic - a mdzs/tgcf crossover where wwx was raised by hualian instead of the jiangs.

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

yeah. the good ole ctrl+f+replace of names. i remember they even stole my author's note. i'd said something to the effect of "i have to go study..." (i was in high school) and they added "which i didn't even end up doing..."

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

yes and i think fic translation is so cool!

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

nope.

14. what's your all time favorite ship?

EVER?

pirates of the caribbean will/elizabeth.

but it's honestly a rotating rotisserie throughout life of my fav ships depending on what i'm hungry for at a given moment. it's 2024 and i'm back in ff7 hell, for instance.

15. what is a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

歃血; blood oath, and it pains me deeply to admit. not because i have any measure of anxiety about returning to it, or feel any pressure, but because it genuinely had one of my favorite premises and setups, was super gory and horrific, and i'd packed in every crazy trope i love into the outline. i was really excited about. then the fandom imploded and i can't look at it anymore.

she's my white whale. i'd finish it for @megafaunatic alone.

16. what are your writing strengths?

atmosphere. payoff. saying things are like other things. i understand this is annoying for some people though, which is fair.

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

i put off every single sex scene in a fic until i had written everything else, such that i had to sit and write 10,000 words, spread across three scenes, of sex. worst week of my life.

internal logic, because i think it's so obvious in my head that i forget to explain it in words on the page.

i think i always can improve on character voice. that's an eternal work in progress.

18. thoughts of writing dialogue in another language in fics?

it's cool. probably good to consult a native speaker if writer of the fic doesn't speak it, though?

19. first fandom you wrote for?

christ. harry potter, by hand, in pencil, in an a5 notebook.

20. favorite fic you have written?

recency bias compels me to say by the time the apocalypse began, because i worked my ass and head off for it, and i ended up really happy with how it turned out. sci-fi's not really my wheelhouse.

i have a huge soft spot for my clj arranged marriage fic, 双命; twin fates, because i had such a blast writing it. and 总有一天; a place to hide (can’t find one near) will always be special to me, because it was like taking a huge, glittering, orgasmic shit.

i believe quite a few people have already been cross-tagged but i will tag you guys again for fun: @yuebings @cafecliche @dcyiyou @vinelark @floofyfluff @ziusik

[soopsiedaisies]

suffering will be your teacher

I don't think it's too late to share this one :)

Rating: E, for violence

Tags: Time Travel; Scarless Zuko; Zuko & Zuko's Crew; Jee has only had Zuko for a day and a half but if anything happened to him he would kill everyone on this ship and then himself

Summary: Zuko falls asleep on the evening of his official coronation, when he’s twenty-one-years old and has finally reached his majority. Zuko wakes on the morning of the Agni Kai with his father, eight years earlier. This is annoying for several reasons, like the fact that the War is still ongoing, that he has zero friends, and that Ozai is not in jail. It’s time to scheme.

Also, here are some ficnotes under the cut, if you're interested in some of my reasoning in regards to how the Agni Kai went in this universe. It's a bit spoilery but not if you've read chapter 1:

I’ve received a small handful of comments being shocked and/or delighted by Zuko deciding to burn Ozai the way Ozai burnt him: hand over the face like wiping away a tear, and then just going to town with their natural flamethrower ability. Whether this would be seen as in character or not, I wrote it in because I think it’d be in character, and I suppose that’s a rather important bit of writing lol. 

You can probably interpret it as Zuko perpetuating his family’s violence, or suddenly being okay with being goaded into a fight. But here’s the thing: he’s not okay with it. I’ve tried to hint at Zuko being disgusted with himself post-burning, yet simultaneously satisfied—because, hey, he’s back to fight-or-flight mode. He’s gone from the relative comfort of a palace filled with people he’d show his soft underbelly to, to the metaphorical viper’s den that was the palace when Ozai still ruled. Despite it having been a few years for him, Zuko still knows that it’s dangerous to be there, and that he cannot, under any circumstance, show aspects of his natural personality that may be deemed as weak. He’s the Prince and kindness, or mercy, will be punished. And he also doesn’t want to be burnt again—he’s not going to take that challenge lying down. 

So Zuko takes a risk. He fights back and uses his own experience to get his father to his knees. He burns Ozai before Ozai can burn him, despite the detail that harming the Fire Lord is probably illegal. And yes, like Azula told him, a simple burn on the shoulder would’ve been enough… but with someone as dangerous as Ozai, it’s better to incapacitate him. Ozai clearly doesn’t care about fighting fair and nobody would’ve stopped him either: in the show, Zuko went on his knees, refused to fight, and begged for mercy, but Ozai burnt him anyway without any sort of protest from anyone there. Zuko was in an inescapable and incredibly violent situation where the only way out was violence from his side. It’s an easy choice at that point, I think. 

Additionally, it’s also a revenge fantasy come true. I do believe that during the confrontation between Zuko and Ozai in Day Of The Black Sun, Zuko would’ve considered killing his father for a moment—or at least harming him. He doesn’t because it’s Aang’s responsibility to do so, and because killing your dad at age 16 after a lifetime of loyalty is kind of…. hard, but I’m certain there was a brief moment he thought about it. And burning your father instead, in the exact way he burnt you in another life, with him on his knees instead of you? Possibly a little bit satisfying. Zuko was granted a chance and took it. 

So, he’s scarless (if you have trouble imagining it: think of his face in the flashback of The Storm, plus his Fire Lordly face in his fever dream in The Earth King). I can hear people go like, “But Soopsie, that’s not our Zuko! The scar is a very important part of his character!”, and that is very fair. But keep in mind that he’s a 21 year old man who only occupies the body of his thirteen year old self, and he’s actually older than the Zuko of the show. I also think it’s not the scar which makes Zuko Zuko, but rather the mental/emotional scarring that lies underneath. Ozai still very much burnt him. There’s just not any physical proof right now. 

(I also don’t need to do any physical character design for this, which is a plus. He’s a lot less recognisable rn)

[toxicanonymity]

Heyyyyy! You can totally ignore this 🙏🏻 but as someone who’s now read most of what you wrote for Joel and enjoyed (!) it, I was wondering if you ever had to justify to yourself the topics you are writing about. I know it’s a fantasy that doesn’t reflect supporting those narratives irl. But do the topics affect you in any way while writing or do you not let it have any hold of you? I’m sorry this is so serious but you are the first fic writer dealing with this stuff that I actively read (after roughly 15 years of reading/writing fanfic) so I’m asking in good spirits and mean no harm or negativity. All the best and I wish you many more successful stories 🙏🏻🌻 ty for the great reads!!

Okay, I’m nervous to answer this one.  I hope the answer doesn't upset you because that's not at all my intent.  I'm only gonna answer a Q like this once, so fuck it we ball . Only read this if you're comfortable with all of my work.

A few weeks ago, I was talking to my personal trainer about this, and it just so happens that his husband is a sex therapist. Kink friendly, and I know they swing, so that put me at ease and I got in touch with him. Also drug friendly which is good because I had to get high before my first appointment bc I was nervous lol.   Random, but when I got there, I found out he also shares a waiting room with a massage parlor, so that's kinda cool too.  

First Appointment: Idk how many waivers I had to sign but I didn't read a word of them.  Let’s call him Dr. Rock  for short - When Dr. Rock came out to get me, I shouldn't have been surprised given his husband is a PT, but this guy was super imposing, like muscles making his arms stick out from his body.  At the first appointment, he wanted to know some of my specific characters and stories, which I didn't expect.  I was a little shy about that at first, but he kinda coaxed it out of me and listened really attentively.  He even took a few notes which made me nervous at first, but he didn't ask any judgmental questions.  I felt good when I left, but the next week I was still a little nervous to come back just in case he was waiting until the second session to spring any "concern" on me. 

Second Appointment: When I showed up for the second session, he didn't come get me from the waiting room. I was the last appointment of the day and he was running behind, catching up on paperwork, and the receptionist said I could go on back. I walked into his office and it reeked of weed. And he had already taken off his shirt and was wearing a tight undershirt. Okay, Dr. Rock is cool.  He invited me to sit at his desk that time instead of the sofa, and I worried it was a bad sign, but it turned out that’s just where the ashtray was.  Dr. Rock  lit up an actual joint, took a puff, then tried to hand it to me.  I declined, I guess I was just flustered.  Kinda smoothed my skirt then sat back down.  He put the joint down in the ashtray, I thought that’s that. 

Then he lunged across his desk, took my head in both his hands, and brought his mouth about an inch away from mine.  I opened my mouth, totally frozen, and he exhaled into it.  Yeah, Dr. Rock shotgunned me.  Then I looked down, and what was he wearing with that tight-ass shirt?  PJ pants.  Coincidence?  Wasn’t sure, until he said “yeah, there’s my bad girl.  You couldn’t sign those waivers fast enough, could ya?” He slid across his desk, Saved by the Bell style,  I stood up to not get knocked over.  He walked over and double-locked his office door.   I must've been beet red.  Like almost too mortified to be turned on, until he got right up against me and he was hard. I walked backwards to the couch and he pinned me on it.  

I was like, “Uh, is J (husband) cool with -” 

“Don’t you worry ‘bout him..” He started gnawing at my neck.  Shoved his hand between my legs.  And yes, yes I was.  He was like “Ohh yeah, you know you want it.  Let’s see how depraved you can be.”  He took off my panties, pulled down his waistband, railed me.  At first, I was kinda distracted thinking about if he was gonna ask me questions at the end and stuff, but he was actually really good and well equipped and I forgot all about it after a minute. He was like “Yeah, you want this cock, that’s why you came here in the first place. Hell, J prolly told ya how to get it.” I was speechless.  When he was close, he said “Lemme see those filthy fingers you’re always typin’ with.”  Then he came into both my hands.   

-

Third Appointment:  Next time I came in, I was expecting to have a traditional appointment and have to talk about my feelings in the previous experience and stuff.  I was really nervous.  Once again, he didn’t come get me from the waiting room, and I was told to go back to his office.  But that time, he wasn’t at his desk or even in his office.  I sat on the couch - felt less like I was invading his Dr. space that way.  I was sitting there in his office, picking lint off my skirt, and out of the corner of my eye I saw someone his size lumber through the door.  

I did a double take - blue mechanic suit, popped collar. Triple take - Michael Myers mask, WHAT? My heart was beating out of my chest. I stood up as a reflex. He stood there wiggling his fingers at his sides almost imperceptibly. Then he pulled a knife out! He wrapped his hand around my throat, walked me into the wall, and just stood there.  He put the knife up to my throat and I kind of whimpered, and maybe he realized he went too far, because he threw the knife to the floor.  Then he just stood there holding me against the wall.  I was like, “Should I.. what do you want me to do?”  And he just tilted his head at me.  I looked down and sure enough there was a huge bulge in his jumpsuit.  So I went for it, I unzipped him.  He breathed heavily in the mask, then aggressively lifted up my dress and ripped open my stockings.  Then he railed me up against the wall. Didn't say a word the whole time.  Finished, left me there, didn't come back. 

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Fourth Appointment:  This was gonna be a little awkward because I had an appointment at the gym with J. right after my appointment with Dr. Rock.  I didn’t know how much Dr. Rock shared with J.  Dr. Rock was running behind again and I started getting nervous about making it to the gym in time to work out with J.  I texted J. to tell him I was running late, and he didn’t respond.  After waiting for like 30 minutes, I decided to leave because I didn’t want to miss my training session. 

I got to my car, started to unlock it, then heard, "Don't you fuckin' dare."  I turned around, and Dr. Rock was pointing a rifle at me?? My heart almost stopped. I think this was an actual rifle. I live in Texas so I wouldn't be surprised.   It was slung over his back with a strap and all.  I looked down and he was wearing boots and TACTICAL fucking JEGGINGS.  He put me over his shoulder  at first and started back toward the building and I was so nervous about the rifle swaying right next to my head. 

I said, "please, I can walk." 

"Alright, sweet pea but you better move those pretty legs." 

He put me down and manhandled me inside, NOT into his office, but into the massage parlor and threw me down on a DIRTY old massage table.  Here's the kicker - there were clients in this room.  A bunch of depraved men waiting for their happy ending.  He unbuckled his belt while making me pull down my pants and choose where I wanted him. Then he pounded me from behind and pulled me up against his chest.  He lifted my shirt and bra up so all the clients could see and degraded them while he fucked me. Like, "yeah this is what y'all came for innit? Buncha sickos.  Well she's not workin'.  Not this one. You won't fuckin see her again. Better jack it now while ya have the chance." He made the whole room of clients jerk off.    Then, when Dr. Rock  was about to come, he pulled out, pumped himself,  walked over to the nearest table, and came all over the client, who started sobbing.  Then Dr. Rock came back to my table and said "you did good, sweet pea" and left.  

When I got back to my car, I had a text from J. that said, “Get a good enough workout?”

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Sorry for answering your sincere ask this way, but thanks for the perfect opportunity to apply this concept. Hopefully an entertaining way of declining to get serious?