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#It sounds like someone suggesting decorating tips
rottiens · 2 months
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⊹ synopsis. . as your beloved husband, it is his duty to indulge you in your fantasies. even in the unspoken ones. ⊹ tags. . (18+), husband nanami x reader with female anatomy (no pronouns used), petnames (honey), suggestive, dirty talk, finger sucking, reader has a hands kink. divider creds: cafekitsune.
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Discreetly you glance back, your eyebrows raise unconsciously and your heart does that unusual throbbing that you hadn't experienced in a long time in Kento's presence, at least since you got married. You didn't want to admit that married life had tempered a bit the passion of the early years, when your hands couldn't be still standing next to each other, when you struggled to control your restless gaze and burning cheeks because you had to share the same team for a mission with your boyfriend. On the other hand, Kento was always more reserved, more serious. When asked if you were dating, he would simply say it was no one's business, although his cheekbones would change color every time someone mentioned your name.
After you left school behind, graduated as sorcerers and began accepting special grade missions, Kento and you talked about your relationship and how you saw yourselves together for much longer, starting a family, growing plants together and perhaps enjoying a quieter hobby that didn't involve exorcising curses. The two of you considered joining a book club or visiting the countryside on weekends.
Then one day he dropped one of his knees to the ground and handed you the beautiful ring that now decorates your finger, physically sealing a union to which you were both long committed: it has been exactly four years and three months since the wedding that only close people and family members attended. Since then you have kept a low profile, you had accepted married life and the everyday life it brought with it, although that didn't mean you had stopped loving Kento like the first day —on the contrary—, it meant seeing him every day and extinguishing a little of that adolescent spark that once burned you from inside every time you spent more than three days away from each other.
However, since a couple of weeks that spark had come back to life hungrier than ever and it's not until now that you find out why.
The sound of the paper sliding under your husband's fingers is soothing to you. Kento does this almost every night: reading a book, sometimes even reading aloud to you until you fall asleep. His glasses rest on the tip of his nose, his bare chest rises and falls like the waves of the sea, and he's wearing gray pajama pants. You've watched this scene so many nights that you've learned to recognize the meaning when his brow furrows or when he pouts as he immerses himself in rich reading. At this moment, as he sometimes does, he gently caresses your calf, sending shivers along your limb, generating fluttering heartbeats in your chest and between your legs.
Kento turns another page and calls out to you, "Honey," without looking away from the book. The timbre of his voice draws you to him. "Are you okay?" he asks again, now watching you with wrinkles in his forehead that denote concern.
"I'm fine," you assure him without maintaining eye contact. "Can't I enjoy the sight of my handsome husband while he reads?" The word "husband" draws a smile on his face, causing the corners of his mouth to turn up. You only need to utter that one word to have him completely captivated.
"I'm almost done," he announces as he dives back into reading.
You gulp. It's his hands, you suddenly recognize. The realization hits you in the forehead. There's something in the way his thumb runs across the page, something in how his open hand holds the back of the book, in his thumb tapping the cover and then bringing it to his mouth to play with his lip. It all gets your bloodstream pumping adrenaline.
The thought makes you run away from the scene like a teenager in love. At first you were in total denial, hands? How could you tell him that his hands turned you on, wouldn't that be weird? However as the days go by you find it harder to control it and make it go unnoticed, you find yourself looking at them when Kento takes your hand to go outside, when he holds the steering wheel of the car, you find yourself squeezing your legs when his fingers tighten around the watering can to water the plants and the worst of all, when he cooks.
Now, as he finishes decorating the cake, he was wearing those black jeans that were your favorite, along with a brown shirt that had the first two buttons open, leaving part of his collar exposed. The sleeves of the shirt were rolled up to his elbows. You couldn't help but stare at him in fascination, feeling the saliva pool in your mouth.
"You know you can tell me anything, right?" The question sneaks in among your swarm of thoughts, and you stop yourself from watching him work to stare into his eyes that don't look at you.
"I know," you reply simply, which elicits a purr of approval from him.
"Want to try?" He abruptly changes the subject, but still, encouraged, you nod your head. With his index finger and thumb, Kento pinches a small piece of cake and brings it up to your mouth. You stretch your neck to catch his fingers, and the taste of vanilla and cream glides over your tongue. Even after swallowing Kento doesn't withdraw his fingers, and you don't move either.
The playful thumb, still with traces of cream, reaches just beyond your lips to meet your tongue. Your eyes widen as red alarms go off in your mind and your thighs press against each other.
"My hands, hm?" it catches you in mid-act, unable to move, your body turning to stone in the middle of the kitchen. "What's so special about them?"
"I-I…"
"Don't talk with your mouth full," Kento purrs as he pushes a little further, the pad of his thumb massaging your tongue in small circles spreading the sweet taste on it. "Suck it, I know this is what's been filling your mind." And you do, closing your eyes at his command, wrapping your fingers around his wrist as Kento begins to fuck your mouth. "I can't believe you didn't comment to me about this little kink of yours, it offends me even." You groan, unable to look him in the eye, succumbed to the feeling of fighting for your dignity or surrendering to pleasure. "Maybe you need me massaging your thighs, maybe you want them around your neck… playing with your tits or maybe I need to make you watch my thick fingers go in and out of you, my thick veins standing out in my hands as I pump my fingers inside that wet pussy." You whimper, Kento laughs. "I guess I'll have to cancel my dinner tonight, I need to get each and every thought you've had with my hands out of that pretty head of yours while you comment on what it is you like so much about them."
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roosterforme · 2 months
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Aim for the Sky Part 14 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: The guys and Nat pull through with something big for your baby shower. Bradley can't get enough of your body, and then he gets the biggest surprise of all.
Warnings: Fluff, smut, oral sex, adult language, lactation kink, pregnancy topics
Length: 6000 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.
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"I told you this would be a shitstorm," Bradley muttered quietly before taking a sip of his mimosa. Nat did her best to decorate the Hard Deck for the baby shower, and she even wore a dress for the occasion. But most of the attendees were the guys who decided to show up in essentially their gym clothes. In fact, the only one who looked halfway decent was Jake, probably because Cat told him what to wear.
"I don't mind this shitstorm," you told him, kissing his cheek as you picked up your orange juice. Jimmy was bartending since Penny was technically a shower guest, and he kept filling up your juice and making sure you were eating the snacks. Next time Bradley saw him on a regular night, he'd make sure to leave a big tip.
"What the hell?" Bradley groaned as Javy arrived and dropped another case of beer off on the gift table. "Even I know that pregnant women can't have alcohol. What in the actual hell is wrong with these people?"
You shot a glare in his direction before you stepped away to hug Javy. You had on another one of those bodycon dresses, and Bradley knew for a fact you weren't wearing any underwear. Not a single thread of it. Just that sexy, stretchy pink dress squeezing your curves like he wanted to be doing. Javy's hand slid a little low on your back for his liking, and he raised one unamused eyebrow before you stepped away.
God, he was so fucking cranky today. He still maintained that Valentine's Day was stupid, because he loved you every day, all the time. Last year he took you to that weird hotel with the hot sauce vending machine, which was fun, but he didn't need a special occasion to do anything. Having Rose's shower on the holiday should have given it more meaning, but he was irritable. 
He knew this day would come toward the end of your pregnancy, but last night, you fell asleep while he was going down on you. And this morning when you woke up, you didn't say a word about it. Like you'd completely forgotten. Then you put on that pink dress and made yourself look all cute for the baby shower, but he could tell you were tired. The exhaustion hit you like a ton of bricks after the trip to Mexico, just when Bradley became accustomed to having sex multiple times per day. Just when you were more glowing than ever.
"Bradshaw," Jake drawled, the sound alone grating on Bradley's nerves. "Did someone piss in your mimosa?"
The stupid smirk on his face made Bradley roll his eyes. "There are two dozen people here, and I'm your best option for someone to annoy?"
Jake laughed merrily in response. "Oh, Rooster. You're always going to be my top pick. Your reactions alone are priceless. Don't tell me you've got cold feet about the baby? You can't unfuck Angel. You know that, right?"
"Jesus, you're annoying," he muttered under his breath. "It has nothing to do with that." But he kind of wanted to pout. Or get a blowjob from you. That would probably make it better. "I'm excited for the baby. Obviously."
Jake shook his head. "Then may I suggest you put a smile on your face before you upset your wife? Let her have a good day. Also, she looks hot pregnant."
"Why are you even looking at her?" he mumbled before he walked over to you. It wasn't your fault that you were exhausted and achy with delectable tits. It wasn't your fault that you fell asleep last night, even though you could have definitely held on for five more minutes so he wasn't second guessing himself now. 
"Hey," he whispered, wrapping his arms around you from behind and letting his chin rest on your shoulder. "Having fun?" he asked as the final few guests arrived. Another case of beer and a bottle of champagne ended up with the rest of the gifts when Reuben walked in. "What is wrong with these men?"
Your laughter was light as you said, "I think it's kind of charming how clueless they are. I'm not sure why we even bothered to make a gift registry. Also, can you just tell me why you're pouting, Roo?"
He shrugged against your back as he ran his palm slowly up and down your belly, hoping to feel the Nugget kick. She seemed to be running out of room in there at this point, and the kicks were harder to feel. And maybe that was part of it, too. He was used to not only your horny ass on him 24/7, but he was used to his daughter greeting him when he talked to her.
"Does this have anything to do with me falling asleep while you were giving me head?"
Bradley's eyes went wide. "Sweetheart, do you really have to announce it to the whole place? If it wasn't any good, then it wasn't any good, but you know I'll try to make it up to you later."
"Stop it," you said with another laugh as you turned to face him. You were too beautiful. All he wanted to do was make you happy. "I've been trying to think of a way to make it up to you."
"I wasn't even sure you remembered falling asleep like that," he whispered.
You ran our hand down along his cheek as your belly bumped against his abs. "I'm sorry, Bradley. I couldn't stay awake for another second last night. Rose is requiring a lot more sleep now. I think we need to mess around earlier in the day. Oh! Maybe we can mess around in one of the Broncos this afternoon! You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
"Yeah," he replied, unable to keep a smile from his lips. "I'd like that."
You kissed his lips softly and ran your thumb along his mustache, leaving him wanting more. "As soon as this shitshow is over, I'm all yours."
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"Thanks," you told Reuben as you patted the case of beer he bought for you. "So thoughtful."
"Oh, there's a gift card taped on the side, too," he told you with a smile. And sure enough, when you turned it around to look, you found it. A gift card to the liquor mart in Coronado.
"Thank you so much," you told him with a smile as you tried to figure out why everyone brought so much alcohol. "Just out of curiosity, why do you think I need this much beer and fifty dollars worth of booze?"
The guys all burst out laughing. "Because you have to live with Rooster!" Javy shouted, earning a swift middle finger from your husband. Then you started laughing, and even Nat, who looked fed up with all of them, had to hide her smile.
"We were wondering when you were going to ask," Jake said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out another gift card. "This is from us. For real this time. Congratulations."
He placed it in your hand, and tears filled your vision. Javy, Mickey, Reuben and Jake had all scribbled their names on the paper envelope, and someone had written Bob's on there even though he was still deployed. "It's for Amazon, for a thousand dollars," you whispered, afraid you were going to start actively crying.
"We heard diapers are expensive," Reuben said as he shoved chips and spinach dip into his mouth.
"We heard babies are expensive," Javy added.
"Babies are definitely expensive," Cat called out from the other side of the bar.
Bradley wrapped his arm around your shoulders, and you buried your face in his chest as he said, "I'm not going to apologize for flipping you off, because I'm sure you deserved it for something, but thank you."
After a few deep breaths, inhaling the comforting scent of your husband, you looked up at everyone and said a very watery, "Thank you."
There was another card from Maria and Cam attached to a high chair, and Cat picked out a onesie that said Future Aviator. Maverick and Penny bought every bath accessory a baby could ever need, and then you were left with an enormous gift bag that Mickey was handing off with a bright smile on his face. 
"You got us something else?" you asked, bewildered since he already contributed to the hefty gift card. But when you looked inside, everything was blue. Blue bibs and outfits and crib sheets. Blue everything.
"We're having a girl," Bradley told him with a furrowed brow.
"What?" Mickey asked as he turned to look at Nat. "You said they were having a boy!"
She scoffed. "I never said that."
"You said the baby's name is Ambrose!"
Nat was rubbing her temples as she looked up at the ceiling. "I said the baby's name is Rose. It's a girl."
"Ohhhh. That's why we got Rooster a box of pink cigars," Mickey said, nodding as if that made sense as he handed you a gift receipt.
"You just ruined the last surprise," Javy complained, hitting Mickey on the back of the head with a cigar box before giving it to Bradley. "Save some of those for next time we go golfing."
You watched your husband hug everyone in turn as he held onto the cigars and the gift card. And you didn't even mind that you'd probably need to exchange most of the stuff Mickey picked out. Everything was actually pretty perfect. It was chaotic, for sure. The guys ate all of the elaborate hors d'oeuvres that Nat picked out like it was a bag of Doritos, and you started crying again when Cam and Maria kissed your cheeks at the same time. But nothing prepared you for what Natasha said when you and Bradley insisted on helping her clean up at the end.
"I didn't really get anything for Rose, because I don't know what she likes yet. But I wanted to make everything easier for you both, so expect a ton of diapers and wipes to be delivered to your house this week." She pulled two wrapped boxes out from behind the bar as she said, "And these are for you."
"Nat," Bradley said, trying to push the boxes away. "You weren't supposed to get us anything at all. You threw us a fucking baby shower! It's too much!"
You watched her press her lips together for a few seconds before she whispered, "You're my best friend, Soul Sister. I never imagined I would ever see you as happy as you are now. Just take the fucking gifts. They're personalized, so I can't return them."
Bradley gave your hip a little squeeze before handing you the boxes, and then he pulled Nat in for a hug which lasted all of three seconds before she shook her head. "God, you're the worst. Just open them," she muttered, trying to pretend like she wasn't crying.
Your emotions were all over the place. You were happy and excited and horny and everything all at once. And you loved Natasha, but you weren't expecting her to pick out something so simple yet so perfectly beautiful. You unwrapped your box while Bradley opened his, and then you were both holding up luxuriously fluffy white cotton robes. Across the back of yours was stitched Rose's Mom in beautiful rose colored thread, and there was a rose embroidered on the front in the same color. Bradley's was the same but larger with Rose's Dad on the back. You slipped it on over your pink dress and did a little spin.
"This is beautiful," you whispered while Bradley put his on as well.
When you hugged her, she said, "I don't want either of you looking frumpy while you're taking care of my goddaughter."
While you hadn't given extensive thought to the honorary titles, you knew she would fit the role perfectly. You smiled and nodded. "You're absolutely right."
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"Nat would be disgusted," Bradley said with a smile as he led you out to your quiet driveway later in the afternoon. The sky was a little dark from the storm clouds moving in, but it was still light enough out that he knew he needed to be cautious. He opened the back door of the blue Bronco and helped you in, and he was careful to help you keep yourself covered as you climbed in wearing nothing but your new robe. He tightened the sash on his, holding the front closed with one hand, and he followed you in.
"Roo," you whispered with a giggle. "I can see your cock."
He closed the door behind him and let the robe fall completely open, and soon you were yanking the sash so you could see all of him. Of course he was already hard and bobbing in excitement. "I'm pretty sure she intended for these to be worn over pajamas or underwear or something."
You just shrugged and straddled his lap, and told him, "I like it this way." You kissed his cheek while he cock was nestled up against your pussy, and he groaned in pleasure. "I'm sorry I fell asleep last night. I've been thinking about this moment all day. Wanting to make it up to you."
He felt a little bad for being so frustrated earlier, and he intended to say so, but then you pulled at the sash of your own robe, and he was treated to the sight of your swollen tits. When you shifted on his lap, they swayed ever so slightly, and he made a feral sound before leaning in to taste them. "Jesus," he moaned as he ran his nose around your breast. "So fucking warm." 
He sucked gently on your nipple while you played with his hair, hoping that the neighbors couldn't see through the line of trees into the Bronco. You tasted as good as you smelled, and he was salivating just knowing your milk would be coming in soon. Soft whimpers escaped you as he nibbled gently before sucking on you again, and you wiggled your hips until his tip was inside you. He slid his hands along the sides of your belly, and you gave him a little clench.
"Just a few more weeks, Daddy," you whispered, taking him deeper as he ran his tongue all over your chest. "Oh, you're such a good Daddy."
"Fuck," he growled, easing you back along the seat and hovering above you. "I thought this was gonna be sweet," he muttered, pistoning his cock into you, making your tits bounce. "But you're too hot."
You were whining his name, hands scrambling around for something to hold on to as he fucked you. "You don't have to be sweet, Roo. I like it rough."
"I know you do," he grunted kissing along your neck and palming your breast as he let you have it a little harder. "You're everything."
Eventually, like clockwork, his steady movements and whispered sentiments had you close. He let his hand cup your clit, his thumb stroking softly as he fucked you with sharp, strong strokes, and his other hand settled on your neck. You came instantly, your back arching, belly rising up to bump him.
"Bradley!" you screamed, and he glanced up to see if anyone was nearby. 
"Shh, Sweetheart," he coaxed, sinking his cock into your spasming pussy over and over until he couldn't take another second. "Oh, God." He pushed himself deep and dipped his thumb between your lips to keep you quieter, and he came and came. His balls were tight as he filled you, letting your body suck everything out of him that he had to give until he was a little dizzy. "Holy hell."
Your lips and tongue worked at his thumb as you lay there beneath him placidly. He kissed your nose and the perfect curve of your cheek before sitting up with his cock still inside you. You looked beautiful with your dainty rooster tattoo and your hard nipples, and when he withdrew slowly, he ran his fingers along your most intimate parts, collecting his cum.
"I hope the robes are machine washable," you whispered as you sat up, letting his cum dribble onto the fabric as you licked at his messy fingers. 
You had his cum on your lips, and your gaze was glued to his as he whispered, "Happy Valentine's Day, Baby Girl."
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Later that week, you were climbing into bed while Bradley was adding to the Nugget Notebook. He was reading softly out loud as he wrote, and you were trying to enjoy yourself, but you didn't feel great.
"Hey, Rosie," he muttered with a smile. "Mommy's belly is looking enormous these days, and that means you'll be here soon. I don't think I've ever been this excited before. Nine months is a long time to build up this anticipation, and I'm ready to meet you. Your nursery is finished. We even had your baby shower the other day. All we're missing now is our little girl."
"That's sweet," you whispered, trying to get your stomach ache under control, but a second later, you jumped out of bed and ran for the bathroom. "Oh no," you groaned before emptying the contents of your stomach into the toilet.
Bradley was pounding across the floor right behind you, and you felt his hands on your back as you threw up even more. "What's wrong?" he asked, rubbing small circles. "What do you need me to do?"
"I don't know," you wailed, wiping sweat from your brow. "I feel awful. It started a few hours ago."
"Shit," he muttered, helping you lay down on the cold, tile floor. "Why didn't you say anything before?" He got to his feet and immediately had the blood pressure cuff on you while you closed your eyes and tried to get your heart rate to calm down. "Your blood pressure is low," he whispered. "This is inconsistent. It's been on the higher side."
Your mind was swirling with information as you tried to sit up, but Bradley was already on his phone. "What are you doing?"
"Calling Dr. Morris. Just lay still, Sweetheart." He rolled a towel up and tucked it under your head while Rose squirmed.
You did as you were told, because you were suddenly so tired, you couldn't think. You started to doze on the floor as Bradley spoke with someone. You only had four more weeks to go, but you felt like this was the beginning of the end. You just wanted to get the rest of this pregnancy over with as soon as possible. As you pulled the towel over your eyes to block out the light, your head started pounding. And when Bradley checked your blood pressure a second time, you heard him sigh.
"It's a lot higher now," he told whomever was on the phone. "Yes... yes... no... okay." A few seconds later, he was laying down next to you with one strong arm wrapped around your body. He kissed your ear and whispered, "They said it could be normal for this late in your pregnancy. The last month can get rough again, but we'll keep an eye on everything. If you don't feel a little bit better by the morning, I'll take you to get checked out."
You swallowed hard. "But you're supposed to be teaching tomorrow. Remember?"
He wanted to try his hand at flight instruction. He'd been talking about it for months. There would be fewer deployments if he thought it was a good fit for him, and Maverick was giving him the opportunity fill in on occasion now for an opening in the future.
"I don't care about that," he replied easily. "Let me get you girls back in bed."
Eventually you fell asleep while he rubbed your back. You could make it a few more weeks. Probably.
You felt a tiny bit better as the days wore on, but you were exhausted and achy. Your feet started to get puffy and swollen, and you could barely make it through a day at work.
"Are you almost ready to come out?" you asked your own belly in early March. 
But Bradley shook his head and got down in his knees in the middle of cooking dinner. "Absolutely not," he whispered. "You stay in there as long as you can, Rosie." He looked up at you with wide, brown eyes. "We're all doing great. Preeclampsia is under control again. You look incredible. I'm holding down the fort. That Nugget needs to stay put."
"I'm so tired," you whined. "My mom keeps saying I need to rest now before she's born, but I can't. I can barely sleep, and I always feel like I'm on the verge of throwing up again. And I'm just so fucking tired, Bradley."
"I know," he whispered, letting his cheek rest on your enormous belly. You were handily the largest pregnant woman you'd ever seen in your life, and you swore you got bigger by the day. "I'm taking care of as much as I can so you don't have to."
You started crying. "I feel disgusting. Everything hurts. My tits feel like they're on fire. My back feels like that time I woke up hanging halfway off the bed when I was drunk after my bachelorette party. My face is broken out, and I'm hungry."
Bradley sent you to the table with a bowl of homemade soup and spent thirty minutes trying to coax you to start your maternity leave early. But what were you supposed to do with your time if you were at home? Worry about the baby? Eat until you gained another ten pounds? Get frustrated that you can't sleep?
"No," you said, shaking your head. "I like going to work. I want to go to work."
He ran his hand along his face and asked, "Are we still doing maternity pictures on Sunday?"
"Yeah," you whispered, annoyed that you had scheduled it so late in your pregnancy, but you wanted to have some photos taken while you were still pregnant for his birthday calendar. He told you ages ago that was something he'd enjoy, and at least your breasts looked pretty nice at the moment. "I need you to meet me at the beach after you're done playing golf."
"There's no way I'm going golfing, Sweetheart."
"You have to. You promised the guys you'd smoke those pink cigars with them. And you'll look adorable in the photos with your cheeks all flushed from your outing."
He rolled his eyes and grouched as he walked away. "We'll see," he mumbled. "We'll just see."
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Bradley was sipping pink champagne from the bottle and smoking a cigar in the golf cart, and he had to admit you were right for making him come today. You were miserable now. Sometimes when he touched you, he saw you wince. The last time you and he had sex was in the backseat of the blue Bronco a month ago. He kept telling you it was okay, but you cornered him this morning when he was trying to shave around his mustache, and you gave him a blowjob.
He was still thinking about his cock sliding expertly along between your lips when Jake lit up a cigar next to him. "You're almost there old man. More responsibility than you've ever had before."
Bradley grunted in response. "I'm ready. Can't wait to meet her." He couldn't stop thinking about passing along his last name and his mom's name to a new generation. If he never met you, he was sure he'd never be at this point now, but you made everything so exciting for him. "My Nugget."
Jake smirked in response. "Feel free to call me crying a few weeks after she's born when you need a break."
"Okay. Like you're some sort of baby professional," he muttered before taking another sip of champagne. "You weren't around when Jeremiah was a newborn."
"Well, I'm around now," Jake replied with a hard edge to his voice. "And I intend to keep it that way. Been thinking about proposing."
Bradley looked him in the eye and asked, "You think she'll say yes?"
While he looked just as cocky as ever, there was something unsure in his eyes. "How could anyone say no?"
Bradley shrugged in response. "I could say no to you all day long."
"You're not a woman."
"My wife told you no as well."
Jake glared at him before laughing. "Aren't you supposed to be getting photos taken or something? We've got two more holes to finish up."
"Yeah," Bradley grunted in response, ready to get out of here and get back to you. "Javy! Let's go!"
Javy was practicing his swing while smoking his own pink cigar, and that fact that Reuben was filling in with his thirty-four handicap and chugging champagne made Bradley really miss Bob. They all wound along the pathway toward the seventeenth green. Bradley got par on both holes and handily beat the other three, and then he ended up getting changed in his Bronco to head to the beach.
He was supposed to meet you and the photographer who had made both of his dirty Baby Girl calendars at a very specific spot on a very specific beach up near Oceanside, and when he arrived, you were topless.
"Jesus," he moaned, watching you cover your tits with your hands as you spun to face him.
"You're early!" you complained as he glanced along the deserted stretch of sand.
"I don't see the issue," he told you, closing the distance until he could kiss you. His eyes drifted down to your chest as he asked, "What are you doing, Sweetheart? Dirty maternity pictures?"
The photographer snorted as you shook your head. "Don't worry about it, Roo. It's for a special project," you said, leaning up to kiss his cheek. He desperately wanted to grab at you, but the two of you weren't alone, and he didn't want to make you wince again.
"I love special projects," he whispered, a little concerned that he might get hard as you dropped your hands and took your top back from the photographer with a thank you.
Then he was subjected to two hours of photos. Two hours of being posed and prodded while sand blew in his face. Two hours of being told he was only allowed to touch you in a specific way.
"Wouldn't it be better to take photos after Rose is here?" he mused when he was finally allowed to just watch you pose alone with your hands on your belly.
"Oh, don't worry about that. We'll have another round of pictures with her, too," you informed him.
"Great."
It was one thing to enjoy pictures of you, but Bradley wasn't a very good photography subject. He got tired of smiling after about three minutes. Honestly, he'd probably smile a lot more with his tiny daughter in his arms at home instead of on the beach where the wind was kicking up.
"We're just about done," the photographer informed him, but he knew what he wanted.
"Can we get a few with the sun setting where we aren't posed at all?" he asked.
You were standing with the waves rolling up around your toes as you asked, "What did you have in mind?"
He reached for you and pulled you close, one big hand coming up to your cheek as he said, "Maybe something like this." Then he kissed you just like he always would, and his other hand found your belly. "I love you," he murmured, and you kissed him harder. Your arms were around his neck like it was your very first kiss, and he couldn't stop smiling. 
He honestly forgot there was anyone else there at all until she said, "These look perfect."
He was still smiling as his forehead came to rest against yours. "Of course they do. I'm with my girls."
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As the month of March wore on and the days grew hotter again, you were getting more uncomfortable by the hour. Your due date was fast approaching, and you felt like you lived at Dr. Morris's office now. They were constantly taking urine samples and blood samples, and when they finally sent you home on March twentieth with a cotton ball and a bandaid on your arm, you pouted at Bradley as he drove.
"Can we stop and get some ice cream?" you asked. "I was really good during my appointment."
"You were so good, Baby Girl," he crooned playfully, giving your thigh a squeeze. "I'll get you some ice cream."
He stopped at the super secret little ice cream spot near base, and you sat on a bench together with double scoop cones. Bradley's tongue was a major distraction as he licked along his strawberry and raspberry scoops, and you had to try to keep up before your treat melted everywhere. 
When he kissed your cheek, his lips were cold as he said, "You're too slow," before stealing a huge lick from your scoops. "You're dripping onto your shirt."
"No, I'm not," you insisted. You hadn't felt anything dribble onto your outfit, but when you glanced down, there was a damp spot on your shirt. Your brow furrowed, wondering how that could be, and then you gasped. "Oh. Ohhh. Are my nipples leaking?" you asked softly, handing him your cone and trying to discreetly look down your shirt.
"Oh my god," he groaned loudly, ice creams forgotten as he tried to get a peek, too. "Please tell me the answer is yes."
You bit your lip as you pulled your tank top and snug sports bra away from your tender breasts, ready to moan from the pain and pleasurable sensations. "They are," you gasped. When you looked up into his brown eyes, there was ice cream dripping onto both of his hands, and his lips were parted in awe. "Do you want to go home?"
He grunted something unintelligible, and you watched him inhale the rest of his ice cream. The fact that he let you eat something so messy in his Bronco was almost unfathomable, but he buckled you in and sprinted around to the driver's side while you held your cone. His cheeks were bright red in the setting sunlight, and he drove a bit faster than he usually ever did, his knee bobbing in anticipation.
As you licked at your cone and rubbed a hand on your tender belly, you sweetly asked, "What exactly do you want to do when we get home, Roo?"
He glanced over at you several times, pupils blown wide, before he rasped, "I need to taste you."
"Bradley," you moaned, squeezing your thighs together as he pulled into the driveway. "Please. I want you to."
"Fuck," he grunted, shifting into park and running back around to get you. He tossed your cone over his shoulder onto the grass, and he didn't complain when you wrapped your sticky fingers around his neck. He hauled you inside and took a seat on the couch with his legs spread wide and his erection bobbing in his gym shorts. "Show me, please," he begged, and you started to strip off your shirt. When you peeled off your bra as well, his eyes went even wider, and he took you gently by the hips until you were straddling his waist. 
"Jesus Christ," he whispered, eyes darting from your face to your breasts as a small bead of your breast milk dripped from your nipple. His fingers flexed on your hips and he whimpered.
"Go ahead," you coaxed, running your fingers through his hair. You were completely mesmerized by how badly he wanted this, and when he ran his tongue along your nipple before sucking gently, you whined.
He released you with a pop as your aching belly rested against him, and the possessive look in his eyes left you breathless. You guided him closer again with your hand at the back of his head, and this time, he didn't stop. He sucked and laved, lapping up your milk and buried his face in your breasts. You were leaking from both sides now, and he didn't let a single drop go to waste. He ran his nose and his fingers through it, tasting you on his skin as well as your own.
"You're so fucking warm," he whispered reverently. "And sweet. Oh my god, Baby Girl. Oh my god." Then his flat tongue swiped out for another taste. You let him keep going, loving the feel of his mouth and mustache, almost soothing you. By the time you pulled his cock free from his shorts, his tip was bright and angry looking, and after two pumps in your hand, he came all over both of you. Your leggings and his clothing were covered, but he was still lapping at your nipples, cheeks rosy and pupils wide.
"Daddy," you whispered, pulling away as you started to feel a little overstimulated and dizzy. "That was so hot."
He sank back against the couch, looking around like he was surprised to find the mess he just made. "Oh. Fuck. I'm sorry," he whispered, chest rising and falling with each deep breath. "I'll clean you up."
But you were laughing softly. "You got so carried away."
"I know," he groaned. "Your magic tits are killing me."
You whimpered and let him help you stand, and then you took him with you to get a shower. He didn't lick them again, but his hands were right there and his eyes were hazy as he looked you up and down.
"You're obsessed. What are you going to do when I'm no longer pregnant?"
His eyes lit up. "Well, I'll be delighted. Both of my girls will be here. And it's not like I wasn't obsessed with you before you were pregnant."
"Hmm, I suppose you're right." But as you climbed into bed, completely exhausted, you smirked as Bradley wrote a few paragraphs in the Nugget Notebook. You were wearing nursing pads now, but you came up with a little plan for the following day.
---------------------------
Bradley left base a little late. He was honestly so thankful that Maverick was giving him an opportunity to help teach the newest batch of aviators to arrive at Top Gun, but it was a lot of extra work that he wasn't used to. He drove home with a folder of things he needed to take a look at, but all he could really think about was your tits. Big, round, warm, perfect.
He hadn't seen you all day, but he blushed every time he thought about how he blew his load everywhere last night. He was also a little afraid he might do it again if you let him loose on your lactating nipples. Jesus, how was he supposed to function now that he knew what you tasted like?
Anxiously, he ran his fingers through his hair. Okay, so he knew he needed it. If you were home already, he'd just ask you nicely if he could get in there before he cooked dinner. And to his delight, he saw your Bronco in the driveway when he drove down the street.
"Excellent," he muttered, trying to waddle up the walkway with a semi erect cock in his khakis. Ah, but you knew him so well. You knew he was going to be a mess all the time now. When he walked inside, you were standing there in the living room topless. He could barely see your lace panties for the size of your belly, but you were smiling as a droplet of your milk formed on your left nipple.
"Hi, Daddy," you greeted playfully, and he took two steps into the room before the look on your face changed from smiley to shocked. "Oh!" you gasped, looking down at your feet and taking a step backwards. "I think... oh my god. I think I just wet myself!"
Bradley's eyes went wide as he dropped everything he was holding. "Sweetheart. I think your water broke."
-----------------------------
She's coming!!! Rosie!! I'm so damn excited! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 15
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billskeis · 3 months
Note
Hey.. I recently read that fic “On the bus” AND IM GOING CRAZY. PLEASE PLEASE WITH A CHERRY ON TOP AND BEGGING ON MY FUCKIN KNEES, MAKE ANOTHER ONE🙏🙏 I’m SOSOSO DESPERATE (totes fine if you don’t!)
hehe bill and his luv for semi-public sex :3
˖ ࣪ ⟢ in the dressing room
bill is an insatiable man. like holy shit, he is always never satisfied having been on tour and the road for so long that jerking off to pictures of you isn’t cutting out for him. he needs you, bad. so when rumours has it that you’re joining the band for his last concert he is over the moon.
you could tell.
you could tell by the way his hands will linger on the dip of your back as he presses his chest against your body from behind you, soon sliding his hands down to the curve of your ass for a light squeeze. he breathes in your scent as he watches your face flash a bright red, immediately shoving him off as a smirk decorates his face.
“bill. not now. there’s people around.”
“and when has that ever stopped you?”
oh so referring to the first time that the two of you fornicated on the tour bus while the rest of the band was on it, possibly more. your eyebrow twitches in irritation, and embarrassment as, of course, he had to bring that up.
“you little shit.”
“you know you want me.”
and he was right. the way he leaned against the kitchen counter facing you as you turned to look at him directly. his jeans hung low that his star tattoo peaked from beneath the seams, mini t-shirt revealing his midriff that left your mouth to water. a smirk curved onto his lips as he quirked an eyebrow to you. suggestive, of course, but irresistible.
a bead of sweat dripped down your forehead as you and bill for sure will get scolded by their manager. when it happened the first time you wouldn’t even begin to hear the end of it. going off on how it wasn’t even concerning how disrespectful it was to fuck around while people were there but if “you and bill were going to do it, do it quietly.”
you had that man on a leash as he practically skipped behind you as the both of you waltzed towards his dressing room. closing and locking the door shut as soon as the both of you shoved yourselves within the private area. he couldn’t help his giggling until you slapped him on the shoulder and he winced with a “ow :(.”
“mm.. fuck—!”
he had your tummy pressed up against the wall as he slid his length in. oh how your gummy walls fit around his length so perfectly bill’s jaw hung so low as spit threatened to fall out onto your ass as he watched his cock disappear into you.
hissing, bill didn’t even wait for you to tell him when he can move as his body spoke on its own. deep strokes against your cunt as his tip forced harsh kisses against your cervix.
“y-you couldn’t wait!?”
“what? yer gunna tell on me?? tell my manager that i was so impatient to fuck you?”
“fuck you.. ah!”
angling his hips, he fucks against your g spot in a slow and rhythmic manner. despite your lack of compliance with his wishes to have sex, you’re for sure moaning like someone who would die for it. taking his hand, bill shoves two of his fingers in your mouth, allowing you to suckle on the digits and coat them with your saliva.
“quiet, schatzi, don’t want another incident.. do we?”
saying that as if he isn’t purposely jerking his hips hard enough into yours that leaves your legs shaking and cunt quivering with pleasure. waves of ecstasy can only surge through your limbs as he drags in and out and in and out of your sweet pussy. relishing in the wet noises of how skin sounds together, bill emits a breathy moan into your ears sending shivers down your spine.
“god baby you feel so good..”
“i guess i c-could say the same,”
“hmm c’mon baby don’t lie you love this cock.”
one could say hearts began to form in your eyes with the way his fat tip hit up into your cunt just right. feeling every single vein of his swollen length as he mercilessly pounds into you against the wall, your body impacting against the wall with a tempo to a thud.
getting frisky has its perks, but you will potentially have to ear another lecture by the manager a few hours from now.
you thrash from between the wall and bill as you feel your orgasm coming. that is, until a knock is heard from the door that was only a couple inches beside you.
“bill? you in there?”
it’s tom.
leaning into your ear, bill teasingly whispers, “answer him, or else i’ll stop. right here, and right now. your choice, liebe.”
and that pet name just drips off his tongue like honey. you pout and whine, hoping that it’ll get him to crack, but he only smiles at you. a taunting smile. as you open your mouth to speak, bill begins moving his hips again. this time, faster than before, seemingly to chase after his own orgasm. how unfair!
“h-hi tom..”
“oh! y/n, i thought you’d be in there, may i come inside—”
“NONO! p-please—ngh..—don’t.. i’m uh, i’m changing..!”
bill snakes his hand under your crop top as he holds onto your tit, pinching the bud and kneading the flesh of your body to his liability. licking and nipping at your neck to further initiate a conversation with his older brother. your brain is mushy and cock drunk as you struggle to get the words out.
“ooookay.. where’s bill then?”
“wah..w-washroom~!” with a hard thrust, bill hilted the whole of his cock into your cunt, pelvic bone resting flush against the curve of your ass as he trembles from behind you.
“fucker.. he beat me to it, i needed to take a shit, well! see ya y/n!”
“b-bye!”
behind the sound of bill’s small thrusts, you can hear footsteps getting quieter and quieter. seems like tom finally left! you turn your head to look back at your boyfriend with tears in your eyes, biting your lips that swelled from how hard you bit on them to hide your noises.
“you’re.. *huff* you’re mean..”
“i love you too baby.”
having not realized, bill pulls out as beads of white spill out of your cunt, he came and you didn’t even know it. probably because you were too occupied with having to avert a crisis with tom catching you and his twin brother in the act that he came inside of you. thank god for birth control amiright?
“how ‘bout, i make it up to you, hm?”
bill is slowly kneeling down to face your cunt, sticking out his tongue as he lets his own seed fall onto it. he begins to lap at your folds, sensitive, but having not come yet, you already feel the bubble begin to form even bigger in your tummy as he flicks his tongue on your clit.
greedily eating at your cunt, bill thanks you for the meal before his show tonight as you pet his head from below you.
“s’good mama, wanna do this before everyyyy show.. how s’that sound?”
bill is a cum eater cause i said so fuck you :3
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hey i’m alive , for long ? idk .. i just got diagnosed with postnasal drip so YIPEE SICKNESS !!! praying for a speedy recovery 😔
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yellowflowerbub · 1 year
Text
small business
꒷︶ ̇ ̟ ෆ ‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿ ෆ ̟ ̇ ︶꒷
summary. you and gojo run the snacks stand for your class together
wordcount. 1k
pairing(s). teen!gojo satoru x reader
tag(s). friendly banter, gender neutral reader
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
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The school festival is busy. Students scurry through the building and the outskirts of the premises like rodents, every inch of the school from closet to hallway is drenched in the stench of school spirit. Silence is something you won’t hear until you return home as the whole of the student body fills the air with inaudible conversation. 
The room you inhabit has little to no decoration, in comparison to the rooms adjacent to your own, the classroom is wholly bare. The stand you’ve thrown together consists of brands of sweets organized at random. In front of the table is a sign that reads, “Candy 400 Yen Each”. Running the stand and sitting behind the table along with you is Gojo Satoru. He doesn’t appear to be any more elated to run the stand than you are.
“Can’t we just pack up?” Gojo groans, he’s been steadily complaining for the better of an hour. It’s almost admirable how someone can remain this verbally annoyed for this long.
“No, we haven’t gotten anywhere near our class’ goal.” You reiterate while recounting how much you’ve earned as of now. 1,600 yen. 19,400 yen to go.
He whines, leaning back in his chair, “But we’re nowhere near getting to our class goal!” 
“I just said that.”
“How can they expect us to get that much money in a day from these kids? Everyone keeps walking past our room ‘cause it looks like there’s no one in here.” He twists around in his chair restlessly, kicking up his legs over the armrest and planting them back onto the floor, folding his legs under one another before pulling his knees up to his chest.
“That’s a great idea, Gojo. You should go out and tell people that there actually is a stand in this room.” You suggest, pushing on his shoulder as you do.
His glasses plummet to the tip of his nose as he jerks out of his seat, “I can’t do that! They’d just walk past me. I’d rather jump off the roof than have an underclassman ignore me and chase after them. God that sounds humiliating.” 
You don’t bother responding to him. At some point amongst the nagging, a student wanders through the door. Gojos eyes shoot to the student then to you. 
“Hi, we’re selling sweets for our school's fundraiser. Everything we’ve got is on this table.” You gesture to the array of candy. 
The student looks nervous, almost unreasonably nervous for the circumstances. They feel around in their pants pockets and pull a few coins from one of the back ones. “Can I buy two chocolates?” They ask holding up the coins in one hand and a two in the other. 
“Sure, that’s 800 yen. You can drop it in that jar to your right.” 
They hum, grabbing the candy and flipping the coins in their respected place. 
Gojo looks antsy. The tips of his thin fingers drum on his thigh and his poor posture, fixed eyes, and chattering teeth make him look predatory. Too bad this energy is directed toward the kid who looked like they’d shit themselves before they came in. 
“Why stop at two pieces of chocolate? We have too much shit to only grab one thing.” He speaks like a salesman, a stark change in tone from the groaning and whining senior he made himself out to be a moment ago. 
“Oh,” They sound startled, “Well, I’m just not that.. hungry.” 
“Bullshit,” They jump, “I know an exhausted student when I see one.” He does not.
“Really, I promise I’m not tired at all.” They stammer yet Gojo persists.
“Look at those bags under your eyes, you must not have had any sleep last night. Boy have I got just the thing you need.” At this point, you’re sure this is the cap on how much money you’ll be making today.
“If I put more money in, will you let me leave?’
“Yes.”
Without another word the student drops the rest of what remained in their hand straight into the donation jar and leaves as quickly as they’d come. You resist a strong urge to drag your hands down your face. 
“Dude.”
“Yup?”
“You’re so oblivious it’s infuriating.”
Gojo scoffs, “I am not! You’re too much of a pushover to see when a customer needs to be pushed a bit.”
“‘Pushed a bit’ is an extreme understatement. You nearly made that kid shit themself.” You outstretched to tip the donation jar toward yourself, “Speaking of shit, stop swearing while we’ve got customers.”
His countenance twists into one of genuine confusion, it hadn’t wrapped around his diminutive mind how he could come off as pushy. In his eyes, some people, especially those younger than himself, needed a little push, “Really?”
“Yes.” You deadpan.
Despite his idiocy, Gojo is immensely intelligent in reading people. Of course you probably wouldn’t be making any more money if word gets out that some asshole is berating underclassmen for the few bucks they’d brought to spend however, that kid was loaded.
“Holy- that kid had 8,000 yen on them! We’re close to being done with this now!”
You could see Gojo being physically inflated with pride. With his pointer finger he nudges his shades further up the bridge of his nose, “See?” 
You continue to count the money once more.
“I’m like, the best at reading people.” He boasts, “If it were just you here, you would’ve let everyone waltz out that door without asking them for anything else. I’m just too good. Maybe I should look into sales.” It looks like he'll burst if he pumps his pride any further. You might not be able to drag him down to earth, he’ll continue to drift away until his ego is out of plebeian reach.
“Do you think I’d look good as a car salesman? Hm~?”
“Absolutely not, stick to sorcery.” He deflates. 
“Damn! You’re so ruthless. I’ve got some feeling in my heart!”
“Unfortunately, most of it is complete and utter idiocy.”
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
a/n: in honor of the new jjk season coming out
Feedback and Reblogs are Appreciated!
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Text
Roleplay Tips: "Actionable Responses"
We have all experienced, or will at some point in the future, a thread that feels like it is going nowhere. It's that feeling of reluctance to pull up the draft, of realizing it's the third or so time of experiencing dread when you see that other person respond.
You're bored with the thread. That, or you want to continue and just can't seem to think of what to do next!
There are a number of reasons why this can happen, but one of the most common ones is a lack of an actionable response from your partner. In most cases, deciding to wrap up the thread is the best thing to suggest...but most of us are just too "polite" to do that, huh? 😉But that's a post for another time.
So, what is an actionable response? Simply put, it's a reply to a thread that manages to give direction to your partner. This has NOTHING to do with matching length of post! It's just a matter of being aware that this is a collaborative effort.
Here's an example:
Character A: "I think we should invite our friends out to a party." Character B: "That's a great idea!" Character A: "It'll be a formal party. I'm going to work on the invitations tonight. I'll really go all out and make it fancy!" Character B: "Oh, I can't wait to see what you come up with! I'll be sure to wear the red dress I got over the weekend." Character A: "I'm sure it looks stunning on you. I don't know what I'm going to wear yet. I think I need to figure out the venue and the details first." Character B: "You are going to knock it out of the park! You're always so good at organizing everything!"
So, what happened? The conversation above isn't bad! However, there was "burden" placed on the writer of Character A each time. The writer of B has responded each time in similar length, but gives A little to no idea how to continue the conversation. Each reply made it the responsibility of the writer of A to come up with the direction for the conversation. Here's the breakdown:
A: Starts with the opening prompt (the party)
B: Agrees with idea
A: Elaborates on prompt
B: Enthuses about prompt, brings up new subject (dress)
A: Compliments B, brings up new subject (uncertainty)
B: Reassures A
Sometimes your character requires noncommittal responses, and this is OK to do once in awhile! But think about this in real life: If you met someone who was only this reactive to your comments and never really asked about you or your actions... Wouldn't it get a bit exhausting to talk with them? At the very least, they would appear polite but uninterested, and interactions would tend to be short.
Here's a better example for the above, one with actionable responses from B.
Character A: "I think we should invite our friends out to a party." Character B: "That's a great idea! Which friends, though? The ones from work or school?" Character A: "Why not both? I think it'd be cool to combine our social groups. Unless you think they wouldn't get along…?" Character B: "Well, you know how wild I get around Stacy on the dance floor. I wouldn't want it to reflect bad on my performance review …" Character A: "That's true, you two can get pretty unhinged. But I was thinking of theming it up to be more of a formal party. Like, make fancy invitations and everything!" Character B: "Oh, that sounds amazing! And less likely I'll start twerking, although the possibility isn't zero. Do you need any help with the invitations? Or anything else?" Character A: "I should have the invitations under control, but I'd love it if you could brainstorm the decorations. I want to go for a vintage 1950's vibe." Character B: "I am already making a Pinterest. This is going to be great! Oh, and I just bought the cutest red dress that'll work perfectly for the theme! Do you know what you want to wear? We can go window shopping later if you want!" Character A: "That would be great! Do you have pics of the dress?"
The above interaction isn't just more equal in engagement, its flow and dialogue is far more natural and prompts more detailed responses! Here's the breakdown for this one:
A: Starts with the opening prompt (the party)
B: Responds asking for more details, prompting a new subject (guest list)
A: Answers, asks for B's opinion
B: Answers, brings up a third party that A can comment on
A: Makes a comment, but chooses not to pursue subject at length; brings up new point of discussion (formal party)
B: Gives opinion, offers help
A: Accepts help, provides further prompt details (party theme)
B: Gives opinion, offers up another subject of clothing, offers up potential next direction/goal of thread (shopping)
There is a lot more "work" involved on both sides in the above example. And this is just with dialogue alone -- using descriptors and physical actions (i.e B could pull up their phone and show A the photos of their dress, or A could have started to playfully mock imitate B's dancing) also gives the other character something to respond to. This works great for Muses who canonically don't say much or are generally quiet in certain scenarios!
The ultimate goal of writing Actionable Responses is to share the responsibility of the scene, so that one writer doesn't feel burdened with directing everything and eventually associate your threads with fatigue, even subconsciously. Communication also plays a big part, too! Your responses may be actionable, but if the other writer isn't picking up any of them, it's time to pause the thread and communicate ooc and see what's up!
"Oh no! I realized I don't write a lot of Actionable Responses! Does that mean I'm a bad writer/horrible person? Do all my partners secretly hate me? Is this why I don't get any responses?"
NO. Realizing the above only means you're learning something new right now, and it is up to you if you want to employ the above suggestions or not. This thread is not meant to shame people -- it is meant to educate, and maybe even put into words what other writers feel, so that they can share and point to it when they feel responsibility is unbalanced in a thread.
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delacyrose224 · 9 months
Text
Christmas Tree Farm
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Pairing: Seo Changbin x reader
Genre: Christmas fluff
Word Count: 1.2k
Author's Note: Just a fluffy little piece for Christmas! This is technically a sequel to King of My Heart, but you can read it as a standalone as well.
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“Go away,” you murmur at the insistent buzzing tormenting you. Instead of listening to you, it grows even more insistent and louder.
“I said go away!!” You pick up your pillow, only to shove it on top of your head. Even through all the layers, you hear a deep grunt beside you as a heavy weight falls over your side. You whine in protest, but the buzzing sound finally stops. 
You sigh in relief, not bothering to remove the pillow, instead content to fall back asleep with it as an extra layer. The peace doesn’t last for long, as the end of the pillow lifts up, letting light into your cocoon. You squint blearily towards it, seeing the outline of your boyfriend’s face lit up like a halo.
“Binnie, no…whyyyyy,” you protest, but a smirk plays across his pouty lips as he wraps his arms around you, dragging you closer to him and the daylight that you wish would just go away.
“Becauseeeee,” he giggles into your neck, planting soft kisses along the way. “Someone said they wanted to pick out a Christmas tree today, did they not?”
“Well that was before this exhausting week happened, and we didn’t go to bed till like 3am last night,” you whine.
“Hmm…I wonder why that was,” Changbin replies, raising an eyebrow at you as he rolls you over, your knees now straddling across his hips. You can see his eyes darken momentarily as you both remember what distraction kept you up so late.
“Okay…worth it, would repeat, 10/10 would recommend…but still! It’s so cold outside, and it’s so warm in here, and cozy…why would I not want to curl up with my cute, sexy boyfriend in bed?” You lean down, planting a slow, soft kiss on his lips.
As he draws back, he sighs and runs a gentle hand across your cheek. “You make a good argument, but I want to go to the Christmas tree farm with my gorgeous, sexy girlfriend. Tell you what, we go get the tree, decorate it, and then we can cuddle and watch a movie later.” Your eyebrow raises in question. “Nightmare Before Christmas?” You nod happily at his suggestion, rolling off the bed, suddenly filled with excitement.
—-------------------------------------------
A couple of hours later, you’re pulling into the parking lot of a Christmas tree farm a little ways out of the city. You can’t help grinning as you look over at your boyfriend, dressed in a cozy sweater, scarf, and glasses…it just might be one of your favorite looks on him.
“...what?” he asks nervously. Whoops, you must have been staring longer than you thought.
“Nothing, you just look handsome, that’s all.” You lean in, landing a peck on the tip of his nose. He scrunches it in response, smiling at you.
“Thanks, pretty.” He holds out his gloved hand for you to take, leading you towards the many rows of fir trees in front of you.
—-------------------------------
On the 5th row, you think you’ve found the one. About 6.5 feet tall, not too wide, and no bare spots.
“This will look so good in the living room!” you squeal, clapping your hands. Changbin nods emphatically, agreeing with you.
With help from the staff at the farm, Changbin is able to tie the tree to the top of the car. “Wanna explore before we go home? I saw that they had snacks and a craft fair as well.” It’s your turn to nod, and you grab his hand and lead the way to an indoor section of the farm. As soon as you enter, your senses are overwhelmed in the best way. There’s plush seating by several fireplaces lining the walls, you can smell cider and baked goods, and kids are excitedly yelling while they run around.
You both take off your gloves, and as Changbin reaches to take your hand again, he squeezes it. You look over to see him grinning at you. “Where to first?” you ask.
“I think I might die if I don’t have some cider, it smells so good,” he laughs, pulling you towards the nearest booth selling the beverage. After paying, he hands you a cup, the other finding your empty hand again.
The two of you wander around the craft fair booths, admiring homemade toys, quilts, and jams. You even pick one out for Changbin’s mom as a gift, seeing as you’re visiting for the holidays in a week or so. “She’ll love it,” he smiles, kissing your forehead. “Just like she loves you.” Your face grows hot at the statement, but you’re pleased nevertheless.
After wandering around for a while, the two of you find yourselves sinking into a velvet couch in front of a fireplace. Your head rests on Changbin’s shoulder, and you let out a contented sigh.
“Penny for your thoughts?” he asks, kissing the crown of your head.
“I’m happy we came to get the tree…thanks for convincing me.” You look up at him, smiling.
“I mean, you drive a hard bargain…tomorrow, I’m definitely staying in bed with you to cuddle…and maybe some other things.” He winks at you as you swat at his arm, which causes him to laugh squeakily.
“Seriously…this is so nice. It just feels cozy, like home. Mostly cause I’m here with you.” Changbin opens his mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. You can see that his ears have turned a deep shade of red, almost matching your sweater.
All he can manage to do is lean forward and begin pressing soft kisses over your face and the crown of your head, ending with a longer, more insistent one on your lips. You can feel him smiling into the kiss, which makes you smile as well. As you lean back to break away, he simply chases you into the corner of the couch, his hand finding purchase on the nape of your neck, his fingers in your hair as he continues kissing you.
“Binnie, we’re in public!” you hiss, though he can tell you’re not too upset by the look you give him.
“You didn’t care too much about that after our first date, now, did you?” He wiggles his eyebrows and laughs.
“That was at my apartment, this is in public public!” You’re becoming a little frazzled, and he tucks an errant strand of hair behind your ear.
“Look up, pretty.” You follow his gaze up towards the ceiling, where you see mistletoe hanging from a Victorian style streetlamp that the farm has used for decor. At this, you can’t help but start to giggle.
“Well, in that case…” You lean forward again, connecting your lips with his, nipping lightly at his bottom lip. His hands find your waist, squeezing for a second before letting you go. Luckily, everyone around you had been too wrapped up in their own holiday festivities to notice your PDA. 
“I’m really glad I met you at that party all those months ago…even though I made you spill beer on your shoes,” Changbin murmurs against your hair, back in the cuddled up position you had started in. “You feel like home to me too.”
You sit in comfortable silence for a while, listening to the crackle of the fireplace and the hum of the people around you.
“Should we get going and get the tree home? I wouldn’t want you to miss out on your spooky Christmas movie fix. I’ll even make you dinner, how’s that sound?”
“Amazing. I love you, Binnie.” You two don’t say this too often, though you know it to be true.
“Love you more, pretty.”
—------------------------------------------
Taglist: @hyungieyoongi @derinxfam @iluvhyunjinnieboo @alpacaparkaseok @itsmegracekim
Read more of my work here!
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nonbayanary · 1 year
Text
Teenage Mutant Mystic DEMONS AU (TMMDemons AU)
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HIRUMA YOUICHI
[ Subject MAOU-001, The Leader, One of the Eldest Twins ]
Nonbinary mutant demon.
Pronouns: They/Them.
Since they're an orphan, the only name they have in the government records is "Youichi." They don't actually have a last name, so in the years when they suffered experimentation, one of the only things that kept them sane was the mental activity of making a surname for themself. And they chose: "Hiruma."
Scientists in the Deimon facility dubbed Hiruma as "Subject MAOU-001."
In this AU, Hiruma is more playful, as a result of growing up alongside Sena, Kurita, and Musashi as siblings. They are also more open to their siblings, but more wary of strangers. Hiruma becomes the voice of reason whenever their siblings meet someone new, as they caution the others to be wary and observant of new people. The four have already suffered through dehumanizing experimentation and human trafficking. It's better to play it safe, than to suffer the consequences of betrayal and ignorance.
Hiruma has long, sharp spikes on their shoulders and arms, and shorter spikes on their spine. The red markings on their arms are rectangular, almost shaped like pixels and guns.
The skin on their limbs, once pale when they were still human, is now a color so dark, that it's even blacker than night. Red markings shaped like diamonds strung together are what separate the color of Hiruma's limbs from the color of their torso. All the Maou trio have these specific features.
Hiruma's eyes glow red. They have markings of a large, upside-down cross on their chest. Their genitals are hidden within a slit in their crotch area (like turtle cloacas).
They have sharp claws. So sharp that they've accidentally popped or stabbed through objects on more than one occassion.
All of the Maou trio have tails. Hiruma has three red-and-gold tails that are all tipped with eyes. Hiruma uses these eyes as both weapons, and as video recorders. Which means they're recording everything around them at all times.
Hiruma's hair is literally made out of fire. It never dies out.
Musashi and Kurita have horns, while Hiruma doesn't. Hiruma's dead jealous; if they had horns, they would decorate their horns with jewelry. To compensate, Hiruma adorns Musashi's and Kurita's horns with jewelry during special days.
Hiruma is often clothed in red, as it is their favorite color.
When the kids were younger, Hiruma dubbed themself as "The Leader." They usually take charge, along with Musashi. Hiruma and Musashi both look after Kurita and Sena, the younger ones, together.
Hiruma is known by different names. In public, their siblings call them "Hiruma." Hiruma doesn't want strangers knowing their birth name.
When in the comfort of their home, their siblings call them, "Youichi," or "Ichii," when the others are feeling playful.
Doburoku calls them, "Yo-Yo," to Hiruma's chagrin. Although when the situation is serious, he calls them, "Youichi." When Hiruma has cooked up some trouble and Doburoku is pissed off, he calls his kids by their full names.
Of the four kids, Hiruma is one of the two eldest. (Musashi is the other eldest sibling).
Hiruma and Musashi were raised in different orphanages. The two know they were born on the same year, but don't know their own dates of birth.
A year after Doburoku adopted the kids, Kurita had once suggested jokingly that Hiruma and Musashi were "practically twins." At first, the two were both adamant that it was impossible. But then, they grew to love the idea of having a twinship.
Hence, when the others refer to the Musashi-Hiruma duo, they often refer to them as "the twins."
Hiruma likes watching yakuza movies, so the way they speak makes it sound like they're a criminal.
Hiruma's a gunsmith and a weaponsmith. At first, before they developed their mystic powers, they built guns as a hobby. They also have a fascination of guns because they fear for their family's safety.
Hiruma is the one who illegally earns money for the family. They earn even more than Doburoku, the only adult in the family. And to do that, Hiruma hacks ATM's and has several ATM cards connected to billionaires' accounts.
Which means Hiruma is literally stealing from billionaires to fund their family. They buy furniture for the home, raw materials for Musashi, games and anime merch for Sena, and ingredients and cooking utensils for Kurita.
Hiruma also hacks into government servers and CCTV systems for fun, and pirates films and shows for their family to watch. They also record everything, to their siblings' chagrin.
Hiruma was inspired by watching their favorite movie, Megamind. As such, Hiruma cares very much about "Presentation." So, when getting into fights, Hiruma loves to intimidate their enemies by showing the first level of what they call their "Disposal Unit." In battles, this is how Hiruma usually presents themself:
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The first wave of Hiruma's Disposal Unit, or what they call, "Category 1," is only meant to incapacitate a few opponents.
"Category 2," or the second wave, is meant to incapacitate a several groups of opponents.
The third wave, or "Category 3," is meant to kill a few opponents.
"Category 4," is meant to massacre a wholeass army.
Currently, Hiruma is working on "Category 5," a nuclear bomb that will annihalate supernatural deities or even aliens. After all, Hiruma thinks, they can't be too lax on security. Better to be overprepared than to lose their family by being underprepared for a big crisis.
Hiruma also expands to making more complicated artillery. The type that starts out looking like normal objects, before turning into complex guns. For example, they build a briefcase that transforms into a machine gun, after watching this anime scene with Sena:
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Hiruma makes an artillery-bag for all their family members, just as a failsafe. Whenever the four siblings go out, they always bring one of Hiruma's briefcases, just in case.
Inspired by watching Sena's gameplay, Hiruma loves building intimidating and powerful artillery like this:
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Out of their four siblings, Hiruma has the messiest room. They can't be bothered to clean, not when their brain is fueling them ideas faster than they can make artillery.
Hiruma has their own workshop/laboratory, which is right beside their room. They call their lab, "My Evil Lair," because they're a dork who loves the villain aesthetic.
Hiruma also created and installed cameras around their home's area. They also constantly monitor the CCTV footage, and get notified by their systems immediately when something unusal is happening. Their family may live in a hermit's house in the middle of nowhere, but it's better to be safe than sorry.
Hiruma loves wearing dresses and skirts at home, because fuck gender norms. When they go out to roam the city, they prefer wearing pants, just in case they need to fight.
Hiruma's love for skirts and dresses influenced their siblings, and soon, the others started wearing them too. The Maou trio's favorite are mini-skirts and backless dresses, because it gives their tails or their wings free reign.
And of course, Hiruma loves make-up. They love putting on red and black eyeliner, and doing their eyebrows. Hiruma hates lip products because they often get lipstick on their fangs and teeth. It's pretty inconvenient for them.
Hiruma also loves painting the claws on their hands and feet red, though the paint often chips off due to Hiruma's constant work.
HIRUMA'S MYSTIC POWERS:
All three of the Maou trio can create energy constructs. Hiruma's energy constructs, however, are different from Kurita's and Musashi's own constructs.
Hiruma's mystic powers are all about creating red, semi-transparent constructs of guns and artillery, made out of their mystic energy. It looks like this:
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The gun constructs they conjure vary in size, as it takes great mastery, concentration, and mystic energy to create constructs bigger than their own body.
Hiruma finds their mystic powers very convenient, despite the cost of being drained to exhaustion. They know how long projects can take, and how much determination it takes to finish one, so they like the speed with which their mystic guns appear.
After watching a few episodes of RWBY with Sena, Hiruma starts conjuring mystic nunchuck-guns for close combat after seeing this coolass scene:
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When it comes to making technology, Hiruma has to collaborate with Musashi to make various rockets. The whole process takes time. So when Hiruma discovers that they can bend the physical manifestations of their mystic energy to make anything they desire, they make these for their convenience:
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Hiruma loves making combo moves with their siblings. Sena's portals make Hiruma's artillery unpredictable, as Sena can ensure that Hiruma's energy construct bullets reach the enemy faster.
Musashi's transmutation constructs can prove as convenient surfaces to spawn Hiruma's own gun constructs.
Kurita's bodily energy construct is a gigantic moving warrior that Hiruma can propel in the air with their rocket constructs. Mystic energy makes anything possible.
Hiruma also loves being flashy, so that the enemies' eyes are on them. This ensures that their siblings are a little safer, as long as Hiruma keeps their opponents distracted. Thus, it's not uncommon to see Hiruma doing this:
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Hiruma tries to act as if they're "emotionally unavailable" in public. And yet ironically, Hiruma's mystic energy is heavily influenced by their emotions. When they're feeling manic with energy, their mystic artillery is as lively as they are. But when Hiruma is truly scared, even when they try not to show it, their mystic artillery shows it by glitching, or sometimes even fizzling out into nothingness.
Hiruma is the second person to awaken their mystic powers, right after Kurita did. It was Hiruma's desire to protect their brothers that awakened their power.
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< PREV • AU Masterpost • NEXT >
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Feel free to write or make art of this AU. But please credit me, and send me the link to what you've made! I'd love to see it!!!
This AU was based on Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (ROTTMNT), and further inspired by RWBY, The Locked Tomb, Honkai Impact 3, Fullmetal Alchemist, Solo Levelling, and Genshin Impact.
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pianocat939 · 2 years
Text
Boring Maiden Whom I Love
Hi have this shitty late Valentine's Special I spent almost an entire week mauling over. I love shrine maiden Leo so much-
Synopsis: While visiting a shrine on the outskirts of the city, you encounter a shrine maiden who seems to not enjoy your presence, to say the least. Despite his bitter self, you can't help but be enamoured by his beauty.
Word Count: 2.7K+
Based off this post and this post.
Tw: anxiety (Leo-), mentions of past isolation, angst but fluff ending
After a never-ending barrage of suggestions from your co-workers and friends, you've finally decided to visit the shrine at the edge of the city. When you arrived, already the place was intriguing, to say the least. You see a few small statues leading up the path of the entrance, all of the statues being adorable animals. Towards the end of the path, you notice a shrine maiden cleaning off dust and dirt with a broom, seemingly occupied with his thoughts.
Wow, he's pretty.
You silently slip past the shrine maiden, not wanting to disturb his job. But you stop by a disgruntled mumble from the shrine maiden himself, “Why is someone here this early in the morning? Please don’t tell me it’s another tourist…” He pauses his brooming to swiftly walk before you; seemingly getting ready for customers. You stare at his fading form, admiring the gentle flow of his cobalt-coloured skirt. He was sassy but gloriously ethereal. You wondered how someone so beautiful is doing such a job as a shrine maiden. Surely people should be crowding around him, wanting to engorge themselves on his appearance. But then again, you kind of liked having this secret, knowing that he’s not constantly focused on by the public. And maybe, if you’re lucky, you can catch his interest.
You drag along, finally ascending the stairs of the entryway. You freeze, stunned by the intricacy of all the statues, buildings, and gates of the shrine. Waves, divots, and several patterns are covered in the structures, enhancing their decoration. “Well did you come here to stare at things? Because if you are, I would love to get back to my reading.” You turn to the shrine maiden whose leaning on furniture filled with stacks of small drawers. The same frown graces his face, obviously expressing his annoyance. Quickly, you scramble a response, “Uh no, I um, I guess it’s my first time visiting any Shinto shrine so I don’t really know what you do…?” A silent moment hangs down on the conversation, quite awkward. The shrine maiden smirks before explaining, “Shrine maidens do all sorts of things: exorcisms, cleansing if you want to call it that, and fortune drawing…Oh and cleaning this place.”
“Fortune drawing? Shouldn’t it be fortune telling?” You question, skeptical of his choice of words. He shakes his head, “No, unlike fortune telling, we don’t tell you the fortune rather we help you draw it. Then you read it for yourself.” He opens the bottom drawer of the furniture, its size much larger than the ones above. He reveals a hexagonal wooden cylinder, a small slit apparent at the top. “Wanna try?” He jiggles the box a little, a sound of jingling items within resounding. “Sure.”
In an instant, you notice his demeanour change, now much more serious and intent. He shakes the box, shuffling it to ensure randomness. He tips the box down, holding his hand out over the slit, ready for the fortune to slip through. A thin stick pops out, and Leo flips the box over once more after he grabs the fortune. “25…” He mutters, heading over to the tiny drawers to take out a piece of paper. He hands you the parchment, now back to his laid-back personality.
You read the paper, frowning slightly when it says 'tremendously bad fortune'. "What does it say?" He inquires, acknowledging your change in expression. You look up at him, displaying the paper, "Bad fortune." He stills and blanks out for a second before sauntering over to a metal rack. "Unlike bitchy fortune tellers who say you're at doom's doorstep, you can tie your bad fortune to dispel it. Which then turns into good fortune.” You notice a number of small papers knotted onto the metal bars: some neat, others not so much.
You step over next to him and fold the fortune, trying to transform it into a line-like form. Curling one end under the bar, you encircle the material over the freezing metallic medium. You struggle to tie it into a knot, unused to such a method of tying. The shrine maiden notices your unskilled attempt at knotting and interjects, “Here, let me do it.” 
He gracefully slips the paper from underneath your hands and effortlessly weaves it into a tie. He was so close to you, you could even see the stain of his teeth. There’s no denying, he was charming, and you were falling for it. Yet you’ve just barely met him…Which was odd, to say the least.
“There, you should have good fortune now.” He stands back to glance at you, a bit of amusement swirling in his eyes. “Too impressive for you?” He remarks, a cocky grin forming on his face. You looked so silly staring blankly at the rack before you; even a child would laugh.
“Huh? Oh yeah, sure.” You respond voice monotone. He chuckles a little, head cocking to the side slightly. “Well, I’ve been doing knotting since I was a kid.” He proudly swishes his skirt, the fabric fluttering like a bird’s wings. If only he knew, you weren’t impressed by the knotting; rather the one who knotted the paper. 
He gives you a small tour of the shrine after that, a little less bitter as time goes on. Yet at certain moments, you notice he avoids answering questions. As if he’s embarrassed to reveal the truth. But soon enough the wandering comes to an end. The shrine maiden stands at the gate of the shrine, clutching the folds of his skirt gently.
“Now you’re more cultured with Shinto shrines.” He declares in a smug tone, trying to irk you. You smile and stare back at him, admiring the sunlight on his green skin. How you wish you could be closer to him: not a stranger, but rather a friend, and maybe even a lover. 
“Bye.” You give a blunt greeting, waving to him. He only gives a nod and turns back to head to the shrine. You copy his action, only to stop in place. You never asked what his name was. You whip around and call out to him, “Hey! I never asked your name!” He looks over his shoulder in surprise, mouth slightly agape.
“Leonardo.”
——————————————————
As the season turns from spring to summer, you’ve become much more acquainted with him; spending at least two days a week at the shrine whenever he’s working his weekly shifts. The unfamiliarity and coldness of your relationship washed away; replaced with a kinder tone.
He smiles a bit more and doesn’t try to hit you with his broom every three seconds. His gaze wasn’t so dark and empty, it was now with a glimmer that was warm, serene. On some days you notice he seems almost excited to see you like he was patiently waiting for you to arrive. But maybe it’s your imagination, because why would he want to talk to some random person who almost creepily visits the days he’s on shift?
The summer morning was hot, your skin feeling like burning away. Yet you trudged up the stairs, finding more importance in meeting your crush. When you arrived at the shrine area you notice he’s nowhere to be seen; in fact, no one’s here as usual, and he’s the only one here often. You then hear faint laughter, muffled by the walls of the buildings. You approach the source of the noise, wondering who it might be.
“I guess the fish that end up on land are…washed up!” The laugh belonged to no other than Leonardo himself, and it was adorable in a peculiar way. You stand behind a wall, listening to him make jokes and puns. He’s never laughed in front of you before; sure, he’s chuckled a few times but nothing too expressive. You liked it. You liked the sound of his giggles; perhaps even love. A few minutes later, you reveal yourself and walk up to him. He instantly freezes and stares at you, his eyes wide in embarrassment. “You didn’t hear anything.” You smile and raise an eyebrow, finding his shyness amusing. “No of course I didn’t, I sincerely did not hear you laugh at your own jokes.” He rests his elbows on the table he sits at, covering his face. “Leave me alone…I just can’t share them with anybody.”
Can’t? What does he mean by can’t? They weren’t too bad when you heard them earlier. “What do you mean can’t?” You sit down across from him, glancing at his face occasionally. He pauses and looks away, propping his face into his hand. You can tell it’s something sensitive. You should tell him he doesn’t have to- “Well, I don’t have any friends.” 
You blink, processing the information. Have no friends? He’s so pretty how could he not have friends? Nonetheless a significant other. Your thoughts race through your mind, creating question after question. “Can I ask…why?”
He looks back at you, his eyes now blackened with something grim, horrifyingly dark. “All my life, my dad never really let us leave the house or shrine that much. Me and my brothers always felt isolated, hidden away. So even now I rarely talk to anyone outside my family: I’m just not used to it.”
That’s why. That’s why he isn’t a famous model or dating a celebrity—he was alone. Is that why he seemed to be excitedly talking to you? Why his smile seemed to dampen when you left? It hurt your heart a little, knowing someone so majestic feels such a negative feeling like loneliness. “I can be your friend if you want.” You impulsively blurt, your brain betraying your dignity.
He pauses, surprised by your offer. He leans his cheek on his fingers and smiles. “Sure, if it means I get to annoy you with the jokes I’ve stored all these years.” You frown-smile and shake your head, a little scared about what’s going to come next. “I’m gonna hope they aren’t too bad.” His warm smile turns into a devious smirk. He’s definitely thinking of something bad…Really bad.
“Well I think my jokes are pretty shelly~” He chirps, eyes narrowing in amusement. You laugh a little, finding his pun cute. “Whatever you say, Leonardo.” He stills for a moment, staring deeply into your eyes.
“Call me Leo.” He turns his head away, a touch of scarlet burning on his crescent stripes. He seems to not know what else to say. You blink, realizing the meaning of this statement. He officially thinks you're friends.
"Of course, Leo."
——————————————————
 Fuck, why did it have to be today that you have all these errands to do? Instead of planning for the feared Valentine's Day, you have to run around doing dull tasks. It frustrates you, knowing that your patience of a year is ripped apart.
You've waited so long to ask Leo out, pondering days upon days whether or not the time was right. Yet to your best luck, Valentine's Day came around: the perfect and most romantic time to invite him to an outing. And perhaps the highest chances of acceptance it'll ever be.
Oh, but the nature of society has damned you into activities you wanted to burn. You want to run away and hug Leo so tightly; aggression for adorableness activating. You want to see his flustered face and loss for words. He was cute when he didn't know how to respond.
If you're quick enough, you can catch him right before he goes home...
——————————————————
Where are you? Those thoughts rang in Leo's mind as he polishes the wood of the offering table. There hasn't been a single day where you haven't visited him. And if you did, you texted or told him the day before. So what happened now? Were you sick? Hurt? His anxiety claws at him, shredding his heart.
He wanted to cry, he wanted to scream, he wanted to stab his heart. Why was he feeling like this? He shouldn't think such thoughts for a friend! Especially one who obviously has no interest in him. They would never have an interest in such a boring shrine maiden like him.
He needs to swallow his feelings and let them rest in his icy heart. It should never come out ever again. His love and admiration shall be buried in a pit of darkness. He's fine with standing there, watching from afar, knowing he'll never be able to kiss them good morning or good night. He'll never be able to tell all those romance jokes he's thought of since he was a child.
As the sun slowly sets, his fears grow more vigorous, encompassing his entire being. He's already ready to go home, deciding he shouldn't wait for someone who won't show up. Hopefully, by the next time he works, they'll be there, waiting for him; with a bright smile and arms wide open. He takes his small bag and walks down the steps, heading for his house not too far away from the shrine.
He then hears a thunder of footsteps, approaching his direction. Someone was coming. And before he can react it's his beloved, holding a box of some sort. He freezes, eyes wide; he can't believe it, they appeared right as he was about to leave. Why were they so desperate to see him? Was something wrong? He moves to them, a worried stare tracing over their features.
"Why are you here? Shouldn't you be home by now?" Leo cocks his head to the side slightly, confused why they would be here so late. They smile, gripping the box that rests in their hands. "Do you know what day it is?" Leo crosses his arms and bluntly answers, "Tuesday." They proceed to ask another question, "What's the date?" The turtle frowns slightly and raises an eyebrow muscle, "February 14." Their smile grows into a grin, their teeth gleaming in the moonlight. "What happens on February 14?" He pauses to think, not knowing what could be special today; it's not a birthday, nor a political holiday either.
Then it hit him. It's Valentine's Day.
"No...You possibly couldn't be-" He's cut off by them, "I am. Leonardo Hamato, I am asking you out." There's an odd boldness radiating from them as they've prepared for ages for this. Leo can't help but blush, his eyes darting around, not knowing how to respond. "I- uh, well um, I don't think..." He pauses, turning his head away. "I don't think you should be asking a boring shrine maiden out; especially for Valentine's Day."
A moment of silence stabs the conversation, an awkward tension. Leo's face is taken into someone's hand and turned to face them once more. "Boring? You think you're boring? Weird, because I see you as one of the funniest people I've met, with stories sad enough to make a serial killer cry." Their smile instantly turns into a worried expression. Is there something wrong? Oh, wait...
He's crying.
The feeling feels unfamiliar but pleasing. Being adored is a feeling he never wishes to fade away. He wants to stay with them forever, so his loneliness from years of isolation can drip down into an abyss he shall never see.
"If you don't think I'm so boring, then I guess I'll accept your offer." The curve of his mouth peaks upwards, copying the action they committed earlier. Within seconds he's hugged, gentle but firm arms wrapped around his sides. "You know, you're really cute when you're flustered. Did you know that?" The sudden comment forces Leo to splutter completely off guard. "WHA- Excuse me?" They laugh, releasing their hold off of them.
"You heard me. Now meet me here at noon tomorrow." As soon as they finish their statement, lips brush across their cheek, soft and a slight chill to it. The peck was quick to come and quick to leave; not enough time for them to react.
They turn around to find Leo running down the steps, clearly too flustered with the situation to continue for the day: how adorable. He was so bitter at their meeting, but look at him now; too shy to do anything but run away with a multitude of shades of blush coating his face. Looks like he had a change of mind over the past year.
Their boring shrine maiden: who held a past so grim, yet maintained a brightness locked away to only those who were worthy. Those who visited him every day, those who were willing to put in the effort of getting to know him. They were ecstatic, knowing that Leo has similar thoughts: love and admiration one cannot possibly fathom with words.
Like the day of their first meeting, if you tie your bad fortune upon the rack, it will become an excellent fortune.
Wait a second, they never got to give the box of sweets.
——————————————————
I KINDA HALF ASSED THIS AT SOME POINT FROM EXHAUSTION DON'T MIND IT IF THERE'S MISTAKES EVERYWHERE.
Well anyway, I hope you like this fic-
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tireddovahkiin · 1 month
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1, 6 and 9 for the gush game with sephi? ^^/
AHHH, Thank you SO much for the ask!!! 🖤 (The way my heart srated beating faster when someone asked me to gush about my beloved evil angel OMG-)
Link to the game!
1. Gush about your f/o's eyes!
GOSH- where do I even start??? FIRST OF ALL. The colour. Man, I get so LOST in that sea of glowing cyan and green...
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I mean, just LOOK! This is a work of ethereal art, everybody! It's DIVINE. So intimidating to others, because of those slitted pupils, so cold and distant... But to me, they fell like HOME. Like a sanctuary I can get lost within. Everybody sees them as the eyes of a monster, but I see them as eyes of the most gorgeous being I have ever witnessed. Had PRIVILEGE witnessing. And while most of (normal) people would get creeped out if these pair of eyes gazed at them at any time, I personally would never feel safer than with Sephiroth watching over me, as I sleep, do anything, or just be in his presense. Just a gaze of his majestic eyes is enough to make my heart crazy and my mind dizzy and empty. And focus only on him.
No one else.
Only Sephiroth.
6. Gush about your f/o's hands!
Warning for slightly suggestive stuff hehe~ but nothing serious!
... *fshhhhh* (sound of me getting a nose bleed)
(guys im not kidding my hands started to tremble- SGDJSGUFSUYDF)
Big hand, not a nick or a single scar on that beautiful, smooth skin, pale like moonlight. He has no hair on them. Fingers slender and elegant, but not too long. He feels cold under the touch, but very soft. Purple and green veins that decorate his milky, thin skin... Others would be worried that its kind of too thin layered, and that there are so much veins visible. But I personally find it beautiful, because I have very thin skin myself, and many veins visible through my wrists, palms and knuckles. They're much bigger in size than mine, of course, He basically swallows my hands whole when he holds them🥺 (i have baby hands, im serious.). There are three lines across his left palm, two paralel, and the third slicing over them on the opposite direction. He has four on the left, all paralel.
Because Sephiroth almost always wears leather gloves, I like to slip my hands inside and just feel his skin with my finger tips... He lets me most of the time, but when he wants to break away, I don't let him, and grab his wrist closer to me😩
I adore kissing his knuckles, tips of his fingers and wrist the most. I also like biting his fingers sometimes, jokingly. And I like to trail the path of his veins when I doze off or, just bring his hand close to my face, lean into his touch, to SHOW him who I am devoted to. JUST him.
9. Gush about your f/o's tummy!
OUUUUUGGGRGRGHEHRGRGEHHRHHGFFGGFHDFG🥴😩🙈🤤😵😳...
ALL I CAN THINK ABOUT... THIN, ALMOST INVISIBLE HAPPY TRAIL STARTING FROM HIS BELLY BUTTON, UNLESS YOU COME CLOSER, and see them reflect on the dim light, as I comb my finger through it... AAJKSGDKSGSFYFSYFS- And those perfectly carved muscles, from years and years of training, sturdy at the touch... They move when I touch them, he's very sensitive to touch. (Bc my boy always experienced either a forced touch from the doctors and scientists and surgeons, or from his enemies, that had an intention to kill.) He's not ticklish, but it does make his muscles get all twitchy and stuff🥺
I like to kiss it. Litter kisses alllll around, to the sides, and below and above his belly button... Like to feel those muscles contract, answer to my touches and kisses. Listen to his sweet little sounds, saying how he loves it, how he loves me... How he wants mmmooooreeeee~ HEHEHEHEHEHEH-
*faints*
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cyberneticlagomorph · 7 months
Text
"Hiya Barby!"
A hush falls on the crowd with all the suddenness and finality of a curtain dropped on a stage.
The old Knight that saunters through the sea of his underlings smiles at you the way a chimp does before it rips off someone's face.
You're smiling too, so wide and so hard that the scabs and barely healed skin under your gauze split and bleed like ripe fruit crushed between teeth. "Forgive me not for standing," You lift a leg as high as it will go, showing off charred flesh and the bare metal normally hidden underneath. "Still tender."
Lord Barnabas doesn't sit but he nods in understanding, a gesture that doesn't hide the disgust in his eyes. "Please refrain from using that nickname in the company of others, Prince Jack, someone might get the wrong impression of our relationship." His voice is deep and raspy, the voice of a man who has shredded his throat with yelling and ruined his lungs with a taste for fine cigars.
"Aww I thought you liked it when I called you Barby, isn't that what your wife calls you?" You tilt your head and flutter your eye lashes, watching the heat creep up Barby's neck like embers eating away at wood. The Lord's smile is tight lipped, straining against teeth you know he'd bury in your throat if he could.
"Indeed she does," Barnabas clears his throat. "Now that you have my attention, dear Princeling, what can I do for you?"
You ignore his insult and take a sip of tea from one of the many scuttling cups dancing across your table. "One of yours made an attempt on my life and put my family in danger, so per the Dictates you lot set into place, I am owed a debt."
A fraction of the tension in Lord Barnabas' broad shoulders melts away and he smiles again, genuinely, as a roar of a laugh shakes his enormous frame. "Is that all? You had me worried there! I will gladly pay for any medical expenses and have my Knights personally repair any damage you see fit."
"I intend to take my payment in flesh, Barnabas." You take another sip of tea, brushing away a very insistent jar of jam that wants your attention. "Zeb, I do believe that's what his name was, not only injured me on multiple occasions, but he set fire to my home, nailed cold iron to my door, and left witch bottles on my property." You pause, popping a gooseberry into your mouth "Not to mention the damage and disruption he caused in Fairyland."
The tension returns to Barby's shoulders, his heavy hands slamming on your table, sending dishware scurrying for safety. Several of the Knights behind him, young and old, flinch at the sound and go very still.
"A debt paid in flesh? For some childish antics, a bit of petty vandalism??" Lord Barnabas looks at you like you just suggested he preserve his head in a decorative gelatine mold and walk around naked. "Is this boy's life truly worth losing over such trivial matters?"
You snort into your tea. You don't use your real laugh often, but today is the perfect day to do so.
It's a harsh and horrible sound, distinctly disturbing and artificial. A stolen file so completely compressed and corrupted it's hard to tell that it's origin was ever human.
"I'm not going to kill him," You glance around the room "or any of you, unless you give me good reason, I want to adopt him."
"...like a pet?" Says the little monk from before, quickly silenced by a smack to the back of his head.
"Like a child." You give in to the jam's persistence and spread some on a slice of acorn bread saturated with butter. "He's obviously a very gifted and clever child, and you know how much I love clever children... besides it saves you the energy of punishing him and I won't tell the Council it was your fault the moon broke."
Lord Barnabas is very very red, from his neck to the tips of his ears, he is beet red and angry that some loathsome little fairy WHORE that stumbled its way into royalty thinks it can just waltz into HIS tower and threaten HIM of all people. He opens his mouth to speak, suddenly falling forward as the table he was leaning on vanishes with a snap of your fingers.
"I'll give you three days to decide, and if I do not have the boy by the end of those three days..." the shadows in the room tremble and bleed, spreading across the floor like spilled ink blooming black roses with glaring blue eyes, thorny vines, and toothy mouths that slither and stretch towards you, climbing up your legs until you are nothing but a dark shape with two glowing eyes and a sneering fanged maw. Your mouth is shut and smiling but your voice rattles from every oozing pool of blackness. "I'll show you why they call me the Prince of Hearts."
The shadows swallow you whole, dragging you down into their depths until there is nothing left in your place except an hour glass of black sand counting down the days.
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the-bar-sinister · 6 months
Text
In Justice We Trust (84327 words) by thesavagesabretooth
catch up here
With Simon Blackquill and Athena Cykes assigned as their psychologists, the Phantom and Fulbright must grapple with their identity, their deeds, their future, and their love for the twisted samurai whom they betrayed.
All the while, Edgeworth and Wright find their relationship tested as they walk the narrow path between pursuing real justice, and the dark age of the law.
-
December 25, 7:15 am
Athena walked nervously into the hotel restaurant's dining room with Simon right behind her, and Halblicht and Gumshoe following a little way behind.
Despite having suggested 'just keep them separated the whole investigation' in the first place, she had, in the end, been the one to nix the idea. The idea of running around intercepting Apollo every time he came too close was not only stressful– but it left her feeling a little sick. She’d only repaired trust with Apollo a few days ago, when he’d doubted her hard enough to go along with the attempt to indict her for the murder of her mother. She’d only just promised that they’d try to trust one another from here on out. She couldn’t lie and sneak around him– which was exactly why she walked straight for him with the truth heavy in her heart. 
And that was why they were headed to the cafeteria, to hopefully link up with Apollo Justice, and have a civil conversation over coffee.
Hopefully. Despite the hopes for a civil and understanding discussion of a complicated situation…she felt the sinking in her stomach that this was likely going to get worse before it got better. Christmas morning in the hotel dining room was not jam packed, though it was festively decorated. More festively than Athena was feeling, with red and green streamers, and old American christmas music being pumped through the speakers. There were only a few people sitting and eating the buffet breakfast– fewer than a half dozen including their own group– and Athena quickly spotted Apollo sitting with Ema, drinking coffee. WIth her best and brightest smile she turned her walk into a near skip and hurried over towards them with a wave. “Ema! Apollo!! Good morning!”
“Hey uh, morning Miss Sunshine" Ema jolted, nearly spilling her cup of morning coffee with a sharp choke. "Sounds like someone had a good night without me.” 
Apollo looked up, and lifted his coffee in salute. She felt a wave of embarrassment from him as he grinned at her. "Hey uh, morning Athena. Morning Prosecutor Blackquill."
"Good morning," Simon nodded. His low hum of anxiety was like a wall behind her. Athena's head cocked to the side thoughtfully, her ponytail trailing over her shoulder as she smiled. The embarrassment was …not what she'd expected. 
Perhaps he’d spent the night with Ema? Either way, it wasn’t the worst emotion to start out on. She pulled out a chair and dropped in to sit opposite Ema and Apollo with a big grin on her face. 
“Well. I mean, mostly I slept…which is better than some of the other days this week!” 
Apollo laughed and sipped his coffee. "Yeah, I hear that. I got uh, a little sleep. Glad to hear you tw- you got more than I did!" …. Athena felt her face flushing as understanding dawned at just what conclusion Apollo may have drawn. She cleared her throat with a smile, leaning on her hands with a shrug. 
“Yeah…hey uh, Apollo? Can I talk to you about something important?” Ema raised her eyebrow, halfway through tipping back another sip of coffee. 
"Uh, sure?" Apollo cocked his head. "Have a seat. There's plenty of coffee."
"Thank the heavens," Simon murmured. Athena poured herself some coffee before she mixed in a little cream and sugar. “Thanks, guys!” she raised her glass to them, before she set it down. “Ema, you already know about this…so maybe you can back me up on it?” The detective looked like she nearly choked on her coffee again. “...oh…frick.” 
"Try not to die at the breakfast table, Skye-dono," Simon drawled. He started grabbing buffet items and putting them on a plate, passing some to Taka on his shoulder.
Apollo looked more surprised at that, and glanced at Ema. "Uh, I mean, are you sure this is something I need to hear about? I mean, I'm not gonna be weird about it or anything." Athena began grabbing breakfast items too, piling them onto her plate with a sheepish smile “it’s absolutely something you have to hear about…you trust me, right?” “You’re probably gonna be weird about it.” Ema murmured. 
Apollo sipped his coffee and set it down. "I promise I won't. Look, ten years isn't that weird. If you and Simon–"
Simon made a choking noise and looked down from where he was feeding Taka. 
"Justice-dono, I'm afraid that's not what this is about." “Yeeeeeeeeeep!!!” Athena waved her hands back and forth, despite the croissant clutched firmly in one hand. “No, no no! that’s…I mean, GEEZE that’s not what this is about at all!” She was scarlet red, she knew she was, and the solitary emotion that broke through her chest was the utter embarrassment and desire to melt into a puddle and hide. “It’s…it’s about the investigation!” 
One thing was for sure, no matter how strong her own embarrassment it was toweringly overshadowed by Apollo's as he turned as red as his vest. He looked like he wanted to hide.
"Oh boy, Justice, you really put your foot in it this time," he murmured to himself, rubbing the back of his neck. "Uh, sorry about that… I just assumed…"
Simon sniffed. "Defense attorneys. Always assuming they know how the evidence fits together." “Tell me a—” Athena’s head shot up. “SIMON, I’m a defense attorney, you jackass.”“Whoo boy This is off to a great start.” Ema groped for more coffee, grimacing the whole way while Simon laughed and slapped the table. 
"Oh it certainly, certainly is."
Apollo just hung his head in his hands. "Oh for Justitia's sake…" “Justitia had nothing to do with what I know she’s about to say,” Ema drawled, giving Simon and Athena a knowing, and somewhat reproachful glance. “But promise you’ll be cool, Justice.” 
"Sure, yeah, of course I promise." Athena smiled awkwardly as she finished punching Simon solidly in the arm. “...It’s about someone who’s going to be investigating with us, and…well…a special assignment that Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth gave Simon and I.” 
"Okay…" Apollo's embarrassment waned a little, matched by a rising confusion. His sharp eyebrows raised. "Well you have me curious…" She glanced at Simon, who was feeding half a donut to Taka, and watching closely, before she continued.“...we’ve been asked to rehabilitate…and give intensive therapy to…the man you once knew as Bobby Fulbright.” 
Apollo's confusion rose to fever pitch, overshadowing everything else at the table. 
"Bobby Fulbright is dead. That's what was said at the trial. Was that– not correct?"
Simon closed his eyes. "Hmm." Athena glanced off to the side. 
“Reality’s a little more complicated than what’s reported in the news, Apollo.” She wrung her hands together, before embarrassedly noticing it was an unconscious mirror of a gesture she'd been seeing a lot lately. “...the person we’ve been calling ‘the phantom’ survived the sniper attack…and is very much a victim of all t-this too. Not to get too deep into a man’s psychological profile over breakfast, but…there’s a reason Miles asked us. And we’ve had breakthroughs already.” 
As Athena spoke, Apollo's confusion didn't fade any, but it was joined by a rising anger as the flus– and the hesitant smile– on his face both disappeared slowly.
He put his hands on the table.
"Tell me this is a bad joke, Athena," Apollo said in a raspy voice.
"Oh it is," Simon huffed back. "Unfortunately the joke is on all of us, by Lady Justice herself."
"You can't be serious." Athena shook her head. She could feel her smile strain, before it crumbled completely into the quietly neutral expression she’d worn most of her childhood. “As serious as the grave, Apollo.” she looked down at her fidgeting hands. “We’ve been administering therapy for a few days now, and …and Prosecutor Edgeworth needs his help in finding the people really responsible. So he’s been asked to come with us while under Simon’s custody, with me as his appointed psychologist.” 
She looked up, meeting Apollo’s eyes. He remained quiet, staring at her in disbelief, his hands trembling on the table. “I know you can feel if I lie. So believe me when I say that the man known as the phantom’s as much a victim in this as us…and that doing this will he-help us find the real murderers.” Ema hissed through her teeth, and clarified “...he’s on staff under a new identity, Justice. Detective Halblicht he’s calling himself…”
"You knew about this?" Apollo asked, his voice slow, and shaking as he looked around at the three of them. "He's been alive this whole time and you all knew– and this is the first that anyone told me?"
"Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth is responsible for the security on the matter," Simon said with a stiff shrug. "We were instructed not to tell anyone about it. I'm surprised he didn't tell you."
"I– I–" Apollo grabbed the edge of the table tightly with both hands. Ema held her hands up. 
“...I assumed you were in the know. They didn’t even tell me until I figured it out for myself. I’m pretty sure if I hadn’t, Simon wouldn’t have said shit to me.” She grimaced. “...besides, Justice. I only found out yesterday…and I only just saw you this morning. Didn’t exactly have the chance to break the news to you , did I?” Athena kept her own expression still and quiet. “I’m guessing he was waiting to break the news to you soon, Apollo…I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth put his trust in us to perform the job quietly and securely…but, I’m telling you now.”
Apollo was shaking like a leaf. He had gone pale, and his emotions had become such a storm to Athena as to be completely unreadable.
He stood up, jerkily, and nearly fell over. He opened his mouth to speak but only a croak came out, and he turned his back to them. “Apollo…” Athena spoke up, starting to stand up as well. “I know it’s a lot, I know. I was really shaken up about it too, but it’s… it’s..complicated.” 
Apollo looked over his shoulder squarely at her, and there was hardness in his strange, dark eyes."Really? Because it seems pretty simple to me. Excuse me. I need to go talk to Mr. Edgeworth."
Simon frowned, leaning on the table, and looked like he was weighing whether to speak or not. Athena broke into a sharp frown as she fully stood up and slapped her hands on the table. 
“...Dammit, Apollo! You said you’d trust me! You said …you said you wouldn’t get weird about it!” She slapped her hand on the table again. “The people behind my mother’s murder– behind Clay’s murder– are still out there. Even if you don’t believe me when I say that the therapy is very much necessary, then you have to believe me when I say that we need Robert’s help to take the organization down. Every second they’re out there is another orphan, another lost friend, a-another abused child.”
"Athena, when I said I trusted you, I didn't expect to hear that you were giving therapy to the man who killed m–m–my friend!" Apollo's famous chords of steel suddenly rang out, but faltered mid way through. "How can you? How could you even think–"
He whirled around fully to face her, and there seemed to be a dark fire in his eyes.
Simon was up from the table in an instant and his hand was at his belt while Athena braced herself against the table, her fingers digging into the wood as Ema shot upward, too. 
“Hey, hey…let’s all take a deep breath before we cause an incident, alri–” Ema had started to say when Athena pushed forward toward Apollo. “He’s the man who killed my mother, Apollo! Who framed me for it! You don’t think it’s hard for me? That I wasn’t conflicted?”
She slapped her hand on her chest. “but I’m giving him therapy because it’s the right thing to do…because it’s the kind thing to do– there’s more to the phantom than a psych profile and the blood on his hands. Something made him that way, Apollo. Are you going to be upset at me because I’m trying to treat the wounds it left?” 
Apollo shuddered physically, almost violently, and crossed his arms– more like he grabbed himself– almost as if he was trying to hold himself back.
He made a sputtering noise that wasn't words, and everything in the cafeteria fell silent. All eyes were on them.
And then the silence was broken by the soft clip of dress shoes on tile.
"Mr. Justice– if you're going to yell at someone, how about you yell at me instead of Ms. Cykes."
It was Robert Halblicht.
December 25, 7:20 am
"Festive, isn't it?" Halblicht observed as he poured a large cup of coffee, and offered it to Gumshoe. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Athena and Simon approached Apollo.
Do you think it's going to be okay?
No, Bobby, I highly doubt it.Gumshoe nibbled his way through a large plate of pancakes and eggs, his coffee cup steaming in the open air as he looked around. 
“Sure is, pal! Guess it’s Christmas after all…hah, brings back memories, I’d say.” 
"I imagine this wasn't how you were hoping to spend your Christmas." Halblicht's own plate was hardly more restrained than Gumshoe's– and he was half a donut in before they even sat down.
It's not how we wanted to spend our Christmas either…
Still, he kept a careful eye on the situation across the dining room. “I’ll be honest with ya, pal. The way things go in the precinct, I dunno if we’ve ever had a half-decent Christmas. Things tend to like goin’ sideways if you know what I’m sayin’.” 
"Is that why the office Christmas party is in January every year, then? Just in case?"
It had been such a hell of an evening. It had been such a promising morning. For just a few minutes, things had felt almost normal. Almost like they had early in the year, when they would just be able to get up, get ready for work, and go into the precinct.
Now, as Robert watched the discussion across the room, and heard voices begin to raise, he thought he should never have let himself hope.
Never even let Bobby hope.
Robert, you can't stop me. Look, it'll be alright. Somehow.-- I know it. Mr. Justice is a good man… 
Isn't that exactly why you said it was so terrible what we did, Bobby? Because he was a good man?Gumshoe nodded, oblivious to their internal turmoil, as he tipped back his coffee. 
“Yep…that’s why. Because if somethin’ happens on Christmas Eve again, like the whole mess with poor Mr. Edgeworth, we wanna be able to bolster everyone’s spirits with a big party. Nice gesture, ri–” Dick;s gaze was drawn to the raising voices “...they alright over there?” 
They're fighting, Robert. We should go over there. We can't just let them–
–Bobby they asked us to let them handle it.
So why did he feel so uncertain that was the right answer?
Robert narrowed his eyes, and sighed. He pushed his fingers up under his glasses and rubbed the tense bridge of their nose. "No, I don't think they are. Dick– they asked me not to intervene. What would you do, if it was you?" “If it were me?” Gumshoe rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “...Honestly, probably barrel over there anyway with my signature Gumshoe charm and ask ‘what seems to be the problem here, pals’. Usually that gets me whipped by Ms. Von Karma or somethin’ but it at least breaks it up!” 
Robert smiled deliberately, and set down his coffee.
"I was thinking the same thing. Hopefully, I'll be right back."
If Dick would do it, and Bobby would do it, why not just do it? Could the result possibly be worse than not intervening? He thought not.
That's the spirit!
December 25, 7:25 am
There wasn't any sword at Simon's belt for him to draw, but his hand went there anyway, as the tension in the situation increased– Athena and Apollo facing one another as the latter seemed on the verge of some kind of nervous breakdown.
This had been a mistake. They should have gone to Prosecutor Edgeworth instead of trying to deal with it themselves.
Just as Simon was about to step forward and intervene, he found himself interrupted.
"Mr. Justice– if you're going to yell at someone, how about you yell at me instead of Ms. Cykes."
Simon's attention turned swiftly. Halblicht had come to intervene, like some idiot white knight– despite his current black suit.
Simon hissed. "Half wit, I thought we told you to stay put."
Halblicht smiled a cold, thin smile and adjusted his glasses. "That didn't seem to be the right call in the situation, sir. But you're welcome to dock my pay about it."
Apollo was standing there, eyes alight, haking, and face pale. All his attention slowly turned to Halblicht. Athena winced, and her expression of anger that reflected in the bright red light of Widget’s display turned to surprise. 
“Robert?” She quickly looked down. “Apollo’s just upset. I can’t blame him…I ..ah..” 
"No, I don't think anyone could blame him in the circumstances," Halblicht agreed, slowly. I'd say he's owed a free shot at the very least." 
Robert turned toward Apollo, his hands lowered.
"A free shot?" Apollo whispered in a low, dangerous tone, as he finally managed to speak. "A free shot? You owe me a hell of a lot more than that, you bastard, after what you took from me!"
Simon's throat tightened in shock as he watched Apollo suddenly launch himself at the larger man like a missile, grabbing his lapels and slamming him back against the table.
"I want it back, do you hear me!" Apollo yelled. There was something wrong with his voice. "How the hell can you be here walking around when I–"
December 25, 7:28 am
The table beside Athena slid several inches as Apollo slammed Halblicht's body into it. “APOLLO!” Athena shouted. Widget flashed yellow and red as the ambient emotions pinged through her system like an alarm bell. She moved quick when emotions became difficult– her body defaulting to action over the difficult prospect of expressing herself in words. 
Flipping that cop back in Nine Tails Vale, preparing to fight when the courts were turning against them– trying to take down the person threatening Juniper– action was simple. Action is what she took, grabbing Apollo’s shoulder as soon as she could muscle herself closer. “Get a hold of yourself!” 
"It's him I want ahold of, princess!" Apollo snapped back. He wrestled against the grip on his shoulders, slamming his fists against Halblicht's chest.
The air went out of the detective and he shuddered against the table as Apollo hit him with strength. There it was– Aura’s sarcastic snipe every time she tried to talk to her for the past 7 years. ‘The Princess of the Cosmos Center’. A sting of hurt , and growing anger flashed through her with the hot sensation of tears behind her eyes. If she had to take a blow from his fists to snap him out of it, then she’d do it. 
She pushed Apollo with her considerable strength and shoved her arm and shouldered her way between him and Robert’s chest. She could hardly hear the heavy footsteps approaching over the sound of the ambient emotions and her own pounding heart. But suddenly, just as she was face to face with Apollo– between him and Robert– and standing over them all from either side were the two great stormclouds of Simon and Gumshoe.
Apollo shuddered– his fists tight and raised– but he didn't make a move. “Stop.” Athena said. She spread her arms out between him and the shuddering detective “Apollo, leave my patient alone. Consider it a ‘royal decree’ if you want, I don’t care– but I won’t let you hurt someone who’s not even fighting back.” Apollo didn't say anything for a moment. His lips were tight– and he moved to back away.
"Just let me out of here," he rasped out finally. "I need some air. Fuck."
Halblicht had gone limp against the table, and Athena could see Simon's hands on his shoulders, ready to pull him away, or perhaps shield him if necessary. Gumshoe’s hand patted his shoulder, and Athena heard him murmur. “Let’s get you some air, pal. Come on…” With a tug on his shoulder, Apollo moved towards the exit as Athena shook on her feet. She was openly crying now– of course she was. Another day, another fracturing connection. Another fantastic Christmas. Just like always. “I’ll see you later, Apollo. Try to relax…if you need some therapy, just…just let me know.” Her voice quivered, and she found herself instinctively glancing back to make sure Halblicht was alright. 
"Yeah," Apollo hissed. He jerked his shoulders and slumped across the dining hall to the exit with Gumshoe, as everyone watched. "I'll let you know."
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abitohoney · 2 years
Text
Missing Scenes - A Collection of Jinx, Silco, & Sevika One-Shots
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Part 2 - Practice Makes Perfect, Unless You're Jinx, Then You're Already Perfect
Pt1, Pt2, Pt3, Pt4, Pt5, Pt6
AO3 Link
Rating: Teen, mostly SFW (note my blog is not for minors)
Tags: Sevika, Silco, Jinx, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Good Parent Silco, Found Family, Father-Daughter Relationship, Humor, Jinx Needs a Hug, Silco Needs a Hug, Sevika Deserves a Raise, Young Jinx
Word count: 2k
Summary: A collection of one-shots set during the time-skip, mostly centered around Jinx growing up as Silco's adopted daughter. Many will likely involve Sevika, whether she likes it or not. Lots of awkward, funny, and good family feels.
Chapters will not necessarily be in chronological order, nor do they require that any other chapter be read for clarity.
AN: This has been posted on AO3 for quite some time. I'm just now getting around to posting it here.
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Sevika leaned against the wall just outside the door to Silco's office, sneering down at little Jinx as she walked past her and into the office. Jinx tipped her head back out through the doorway to stick her tongue out at Sevika just before slamming the door behind her.
Jinx trotted over to Silco's desk where he sat in his chair, reviewing paperwork as usual. He set the stack down on the desk, turning his attention to Jinx.
"I know you've been a bit bored being cooped up in here lately and that got me thinking of ways to get you outside," Silco waved a finger around towards the rafters, drawing attention to the multiple doodles scribbled across the beams, an obvious reference to said boredom. "What skills do you have beyond creating explosives?"
"Uhm, well…" Jinx scanned the room as she tried to come up with an answer. "I'm great at drawing!" she exclaimed.
"That you are," Silco replied while eyeing his neon decorated ash tray sitting on the desk before him. "Although that's not quite what I was going for," Silco added flatly, but a tiny tug at the unscarred side of his mouth told Jinx he wasn't upset with her reply, but rather amused. "I was thinking more along the lines of combat skills. Skills that will give you an advantage when in danger," he clarified.
"Ooohhh," Jinx replied. Her eyes scanned the room again before they widened excitedly. "I have great aim with a gun!" She extended her arm, creating the shape of a pistol with her fingers and pretended to take aim at something behind Silco. "Bang!" she added theatrically as she pretended to pull the trigger.
Silco sat back in his chair, brows raised in surprise. "Really?" he replied, though not really doubting her claim. Leaning forward again, he rested his elbows on the desk and his chin on his entwined fingers, pondering.
"Yup!" Jinx replied with a curt nod, her blue braids bouncing. "I had several paint guns and I made a target practice rig for me and Mylo and…" She trailed off, her excitement suddenly fading into distress, her eyes threatening to fill with tears.
Recognizing the signs of what had been fairly frequent episodic breakdowns, Silco quickly intervened. "I bet you're a better shot than anyone here," he replied, giving her a little wink with his blue eye. When he could see a small smile return to her face at the compliment, he continued. "I think you should continue practicing… further perfect that skill," he suggested.
"Really?!" Jinx's mood took another huge swing, at least for the better this time. She bounced in place, clasping her hands together excitedly. "Maybe I can get my targets back up and running!"
Silco nodded. "I think that's a wonderful idea." He paused for a moment, as if contemplating what he was about to say next. "I think someone should accompany you though."
"Like… you?" Jinx questioned, but it sounded more like pleading.
Silco sighed, shaking his head. "I'm sorry Jinx, but not today. I have some important business to tend to."
Jinx's face fell sullen. "Ok," she mumbled, looking at the floor while gently kicking a foot into some imaginary object in front of her.
"I'll take you out for dinner tonight. How's that sound?" Silco offered in consolation.
"Yes! I get to choose where?!" Jinx exclaimed.
Silco nodded.
"But who will come with me to practice then?" Jinx questioned, clearly dreading the answer.
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Just outside Silco's office Sevika stood absentmindedly picking at the stubby nails of her flesh hand, her mechanical hand resting against the door frame. She glanced down at Jinx as the door flung open and came stomping out, a sour expression on her face. Sevika smirked, as though enjoying seeing Jinx unhappy. After Jinx had stormed out of sight, Sevika made her way into Silco's office.
"What's her deal?" Sevika sneered as she took a seat on Silco's couch.
"Jinx needs to get out for a while. Get in some practice, hone in on her skills," Silco began matter-of-factly. It wasn't exactly an answer to Sevika's question, at least not yet. Sevika just quietly watched him, arms across her chest, a metal finger slowly tapping her other arm as she listened to him continue his explanation. "She says she's quite good with a gun, used to practice on some hand made targets. I told her she could continue, today, but that she'll need someone with her."
Sevika's tapping suddenly ceased. "Let me guess, that someone is me?" Had she not already worn an eternal look of utter loathing, she certainly would now. When Silco did not reply, she hastily stood, throwing her arms up in exasperation. "Why the hell does it have to be me? I don't use guns. I have nothing to offer her."
"I'm not expecting you to teach her anything, just keep an eye on her. I wouldn't trust her with anyone else," Silco replied.
"Fine," Sevika grumbled, apparently satisfied with the small stroke to her ego, or perhaps it was just that she understood it wasn't wise to argue with Silco.
Silco flicked a hand toward the door, dismissing Sevika before returning to his paperwork.
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Down at the empty bar of the Last Drop, Jinx sat at one of the bar stools, swinging her dangling legs as they dangled. Her chin rested on her hands which were sprawled across the counter, still sulking over her assigned baby-sitter for the day.
"Let's get this over with," Sevika snarled as she passed behind Jinx, a freshly lit cigarette hanging from the corner of her mouth.
Jinx gave a loud harrumph as she slumped off her seat dramatically.
"I don't want to do this any more than you do, brat," Sevika pointed out as they both made their way outside.
"I don't understand why I even need to practice," Jinx whined, kicking a random piece of garbage lying in the middle of the street.
Sevika pulled her cigarette from her mouth, releasing a long plume of smoke as she spoke. "Haven't you ever heard the saying 'practice makes perfect'?"
Jinx rolled her eyes. "Yes, but Silco says I'm already perfect."
Sevika stopped in her tracks, glaring down at Jinx as she unknowingly walked right into her large backside.
"What?!" Jinx exclaimed, staring up at Sevika incredulously.
"You two make me sick," Sevika growled before taking another long drag of her cigarette and continuing down the barren street.
Jinx followed, this time putting more distance between them and mockingly sticking her tongue out at Sevika's back.
When they reached their destination, Jinx excitedly ran to her target practice rig, surprised that after nearly a year of abandonment it was still intact.
She reached across the counter to grab a large box, flipping the lid open to reveal several small guns and a plethora of brightly colored paintballs. "Yes!" she exclaimed, pumping a fist in the air triumphantly.
Sevika found a spot against the wall nearby to lean against, continuing to smoke what was left of her cigarette and glance around the room, looking rather bored and unimpressed.
Jinx hopped over the counter, grabbing two large cables from the floor and coupling them together. Her eyes lit excitedly as she spun around to watch the targets suddenly pop up, shapes of neon colored baddies making their way around the small room in what appeared to be a random pattern. She hopped back over the counter again and began filling two of the guns with the paint-filled ammo.
Just as Sevika was stomping out her finished cigarette, Jinx's little boots stepped into her peripheral. Jinx extended an arm, holding out one of the guns for Sevika.
"I don't use guns," Sevika grumbled.
"Why? Scared I'll do better than you?" Jinx taunted.
"How about we try fists instead?" Sevika retorted.
Jinx rolled her eyes. "You just don't want to get shown up by a kid."
"Give me the damn gun," Sevika snarled, snatching the gun from Jinx's hand. She stomped over to the counter in front of the targets and took aim. Jinx stood several feet behind, watching with a cocky little smile on her face.
“Fuck,” Sevika snarled as her first shot missing the target almost entirely. Jinx’s smile only grew in amusement. Sevika took another shot, this time hitting a target, but just barely. Sevika's grimace was replaced with her own cocky smile, but her victory was quickly squashed as her last several shots missed the targets. “Fucking waste of time,” she cursed as she tossed the empty gun across the counter, knocking the box of ammo to the floor behind the counter.
Jinx made no effort to hide her arrogant smile as she stepped up and aimed her gun. Sevika returned to lean against the wall, arms across her chest as she watched Jinx hit every single target dead on, with what looked to be no effort whatsoever. Jinx spun on her heels, flashing Sevika the most snotty little smile.
Sevika pushed herself off the wall and came to stand within inches of Jinx, towering over her threateningly. Jinx showed no signs of intimidation though, placing her hands on her hips defiantly. The two of them just glared at each other in silence for a moment. Sevika’s mechanical arm suddenly released a long blade at her side, causing Jinx to jump back. Dread fell over Jinx’s face, but only for a moment as she watched Sevika stride over to the counter and lift her blade, sweeping it across the targets in one long swift motion. Jinx watched in awe as the several targets nearest the counter were cleanly sliced through, the top halves falling to the floor in a clang.
“What the hell?!” Jinx exclaimed as she ran and jumped behind the counter to turn off the rig before more damage could occur.
Now it was Sevika’s turn to flash a snarky smile. "Where's that shit eating grin now?"
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Silco sat in his desk chair, back to the door of his office as he gazed out the round green window, quietly enjoying a cigar in solitude. He spun in his chair when the door suddenly swung open and closed again with such force that the chain on his table lamp swung and clanked against the glass shade.
Jinx stormed in, fury on her little face as she stomped over to the couch at the side of the room and flopped down dramatically.
“What’s the matter, Jinx,” Silco asked coolly, releasing a puff of smoke before resting his cigar on the side of his decorated ashtray.
Though Jinx’s brows were furrowed in obvious anger, her eyes were starting to fill with tears. “Sevika broke my targets!” she hollered, but it fell somewhat flat as she choked on the last word.
“You out-performed her, didn’t you?” Silco asked knowingly as he stood from his seat and sauntered over to the couch to take a seat beside Jinx.
Jinx’s beady eyes looked up at Silco as she nodded, a tiny smile tugging at her lips. She sniffled, still trying to hold back the tears.
Silco patted Jinx’s head, gently ruffling her blue hair. “Sevika is just a sore loser,” he added.
“Yeah,” Jinx replied, scowl now fully replaced with a proud smirk.
“How about we get you some parts to make a new setup. I think we’ve got some room in the basement where you can put it. It will give you a place to continue experimenting with your other gadgetry as well.” Silco suggested.
Jinx beamed up at her adoptive father. “I would love that!” She threw her arms around him in a bear hug.
Silco gave Jinx a gentle pat on her back. “Alright. Run along, and I’ll come grab you later for dinner, just the two of us.”
“Okay,” Jinx replied, still grinning from ear-to-ear as she skipped out the door.
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rainbwspctrm · 1 year
Text
{Lessening the Chaos}
{Characters || Ralsei, Jevil (DELTARUNE)}
{One day, or night, Ralsei is requested to try and appease the chaotic mannerisms of Card Castle’s locked up jester, even if just a bit.}
{First time writing in a while, and first time with canon DR characters so it's a bit interpretive, otherwise I think you'll like this!}
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The sound of stepping down stairs, as small bits of stone tip over and fall down the stairs, as someone descends into the deepest reaches of the kingdom’s castle, down to a prison cell constructed much deeper than the rest. This would be the location that a neighboring kingdom’s prince was welcoming himself to. It would seem a request was delivered to him…
“Appease the chaotic nature of the trapped jester… all I have to do is use the right words, talk this out and it’ll all be okay! That ‘numbers game’ might be a problem if he wants to play it, but I have to fulfill this order!”
The goat prince’s voice echoes, before he’s met with the prison cell. He’s been here before, so surely, he’s knowledgable on what he’s agreed to. Introducing the prison key to the cell, a door forms, much as it had the last time. Confident, he tips his hat down just a bit, trying to give himself just that much more of a tougher appearance.
“I’m ready!” Ralsei speaks, before stepping in, shutting the prison cell door behind him. Then, there he was. He who can do anything, he who is the one who is free, and he who is one of the kingdom’s most dangerous, locked away for a reason. The chaos jester, Jevil…
“UEE HEE! A VISITOR, VISITOR? HAVE YOU COME TO PLAY A GAME?”
There was that signature line from the jester that Ralsei expected. How he handled this encounter now mattered, as no one was there to back him up, should this get out of hand.
“N.. no! I’m just here for a friendly visit! Actually, I thought we could talk things over a cup of tea, so to speak…!” Ralsei speaks, doing what he can to keep his composure, to which Jevil responds in just a slightly heightened manner…
“A TALK? OVER A CUP OF TEA, TEA? A TEA PARTY WE SHALL HAVE? OH, HOW EXCITING! SHALL THERE BE FIREWORKS? STUNTFUL ACTS? BIG, GREAT CHAOS?”
Well, there goes his simple expression being blown up into something over the top. Ralsei was going to have to be more clear, and so he would attempt to do so.
“No, no fireworks, no dangerous acts, no nothing where anything gets hurt! It’s an expression, meaning we could talk over your… rather excitable nature! I was hoping we could keep things to a minimum, I was actually told to make sure you weren’t planning anything too explosive.”
This would no doubt be disappointment, disappointment to the imprisoned jester.
"NO CHAOS, NO FIREWORKS, NO ACTS? BOO-HOO, TRULY A PITTANCE! WHAT IS THERE TO LIFE IS THERE IS NAUGHT EXCITEMENT?"
Well, Jevil sort of had a point, but clearly to an extreme degree. This, of course, was what the prince was here to address, thus would he try to do so with his following suggestion.
"We all have an adventurous side, some more-so, but isn't it nice to sit back and take a breather? If we're always living in a thrill, in a constant rush… then it can all just flash by, just like that! Here, I got you a nice little something to decorate yourself with!"
From within his left pocket, Ralsei pulled out what appeared to be a neatly-tied bow, then made a close approach to Jevil, who despite that mischief-craving grin, was surprisingly holding still, and then…!
"There! A nice little bow for that silly little hat of yours! It's not the most orderly piece of apparel, but I figured being orderly isn't your  thing! What do you think?" Ralsei questioned, wearing an expression that held naught but good will. In response, Jevil gave himself a moment to have a feel for the tied-up bow, then…
"IT IS NEAT, ORDERLY, NICELY MADE. IT IS ON THE BRINK OF TOO ORDERLY, ORDERLY. I WILL RESHAPE IT IN MY OWN IMAGE, IN A WAY THAT HARM WILL NOT BE BESTOWED."
Before Ralsei could even question what Jevil meant- there he goes, at it, taking the bow off, and twisting and turning it in ways he couldn’t hope to read properly. Ralsei tries to intervene-
“If you might tell me what you’re…!”
Too late, the jester’s already done. It had seemingly been completely reformed, taking on a flower-like shape, and now more fit for attaching to a suit, which Jevil does so.
“COME, APPROACH. IT WILL NOT HARM YOU. DO YOU HAVE THE BRAVERY?”
Suspicious yet oblivious to the possible threat, Ralsei approaches… only to find himself lightly doused with water from the bow-turned-bowtie. A light laugh escapes from the prince, which prompts a laugh of three-fold strength from Jevil.
“YOU ARE NOT HURT, I CAN SEE FROM YOUR OUTWARDLY AND INWARDLY APPEARANCE. IT IS A SIMPLE JEST, A SMALL UNHARMING ACT!”
At least he’s not jumping at the chance to play his deadly ‘numbers game’ anymore. Seems Ralsei had gotten through, whether or not temporary. Feeling himself to be safe now, he agrees to himself to stay just a tad longer.
He probably faces a prank or two, but it’s all in good jest.
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Note
Hired you get started with fanfic? And tips for aspiring writers?
What a fun ask!😍
I apologize in advance as this will probably be more than you wanted to know; I will add a cut. I love talking about writing and helping fellow authors if I can.
The first tip, and in my opinion the most important, is to just write. I have notebooks and pens everywhere. I have fragments of ideas in the Notes app on my phone and tablet. I have dozens of google docs with snippets of dialogue or scenes. I have random sticky notes and pieces of scrap paper full of scribbled words. Inspiration comes at the weirdest times, so be ready for it.😏🤣
Aqua notes are a great way to preserve those shower ideas.
My second tip is to write for you, write what you enjoy. I don't care if it sounds cliche or cheesy. If you are not writing about something you enjoy, then how do you expect others to like it? A lack of delight in what you are writing will definitely show in the finished product.
Read. When you find stories that you love to read, try to pinpoint what you like most about them. Chances are the things you like to read will be part of your writing style.
Your writing will evolve over time. Everyone has their own style and skill level. Don't be too hard on yourself. I cringe a little reading my first fics. However, I still love those stories.
On the technical side, follow proper grammar rules, but don't get hung up on them. A couple of typos are not going to ruin your story. A lot of typos, though, will make it difficult for others to read.
If you are not confident in your grammar skills, find a good beta and/or alpha reader. Someone who understands your style of writing and communicates well. It may take a couple of attempts to find that person. Don't be afraid to not agree with your beta reader.
I can't underscore this enough, it's about communication—from both parties. They should not be forcing their suggestions on you and you should not be rude when disagreeing with them.
Try not to self-edit and proofread while you are writing. Get those ideas on paper or in a doc first. It's a draft—there will be mistakes, and changes will be made. Edit, then proofread. Or have someone else proofread for you. That should be the last step before posting or publishing.
I have a few more tips/thoughts on writing, but I feel like the ones above are generally a good foundation. You are welcome to contact me through my DM if you want to chat.☺️
As far as my personal journey into fanfic ...
I've always been a creator. When I was younger I wrote poems and short stories. Even won a couple of awards in high school. Papercrafts, knitting, and crocheting are on-again off-again hobbies. I had my own business for a while-mixed media art and home decor.
About six years ago it cycled back around to writing. I knew about tumblr through my kiddo.
Yes, I have a kid old enough to be on this site. Yes, they know what I write. No, they don't read it. It's not their genre/fandom of interest. We don't interact on here.
After falling in love with SPN and more specifically Dean, I joined the site to find like-minded individuals. I had already started writing a very self-indulgent fic which I will probably never post. Some things you just have to keep for yourself.😁
After lurking for a few months and connecting with a couple of people, I decided to join a challenge and posted a fic.
It spiraled from there. 🤣🤣🤣
Once again, I apologize for the length of this response. If you read any of my fics, though, you should know how wordy I can be.
Thanks again for this ask. I hope you have a wonderful day!🤗💜🤗
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twistednuns · 1 year
Text
September 2023
Getting to wait on the orthopedic's balcony, alone. Sunshine, lots of bees on the Bluebeard plant. Piano music coming from the room behind me. Acupuncture and cupping.
Wholemeal buckwheat cookies.
A fantastic self care Sunday morning. I was in the mood to give myself a neck and shoulder massage with the Aesop oil I'd forgotten after my face care routine. And then I even did an EFT session with Gala - I'd been planning to get back into that for such a long time! I also managed to write a few pages in my journal today. Did some stretching. Shook my booty in front of the mirror. I even stopped eating my breakfast when I realised I wasn't really hungry!
My new Desigual clothes! The fabric is so smooth and shiny and the colour are vibrant. The iridescent water glass I got just to save on shipping costs makes me very happy, too.
I found some of my mum's letters to me. They were very loving and touching. Of course I cried. I miss her so much.
Wearing a long, flowy dress - just to take out the trash.
Fabulous Schönburn experiences: Driving to Austria with Sandra, Marah and Robert. Bonding along the way. Hopping naked into a forest lake in the middle of nowhere. So peaceful. Eating disgusting pizza, making up for eat with our fancy grocery shopping. Planning a clothing swap, talking about school and travelling, yoga, trauma. Painting people's naked bodies makes for lovely and surprisingly deep conversations as well (I decorated Sandra and Katharina, Benni's old girlfriend who's here as well). Sandra taught us all some hooping tricks. I got a free cheese crepe and a Brazilian bean dish. Luiz handmade and and served travel tips for Brazil along with the food. He played the guitar for a bit, I sang. In the morning, I got a little glimpse into the future from two of the resident witches. Funnily enough, they talked about Kali and a few topics I'd journalled about right before the session. Alexander's immersive experience was pretty fantastic, too. I took part in the cuddle puddle which almost turned into an orgy for me so I left early and was proud of myself. Tried out whips and floggers at an impact play workshop. The lead, Kali, is such an incredibly gorgeous human being. I was in my first threesome (which turned into a twosome after I while and I was grateful for it). There were so many unexpected connections. I danced and kissed Nagu and Galya on the dancefloor. Engaged with Rafael in such a gentle and loving manner. I felt taken care of. Fox was certainly a surprise - he took a liking to me and we ended up in the Ranger HQ early in the morning, talking. And of course there was Christian. My innocent suggestion to play bingo together resulted in a hot two day love affair with alluring power dynamic, intimacy, suspension. He also made me realise that perhaps I'm not gay enough for the type of relationship I'd been engaging in over the last months (and Daniela's unwanted attention highlighted that hunch). What else? A fantastic breathwork session with deep emotional release (after which C. came into my tent, brought me ice-cream and held me tightly for ten minutes). Being appointed the title Moon Goddess. A fun photo session with crazy lights. Cracking up about Robert's odd choice of words. Long talks with Katharina - and being brave enough to ask her to meet for drinks once we're both back in Munich (I've been working on my "last kid to be chosen in sports class" self-image; that weekend actually surprised me by showing me that I'm so much cooler and desirable than I ever imagined). Winning bingo. Someone twerking to the sound of a Jew's harp.
Giggling while eating almond cream because it just tastes so fantastic (like the filling of Raffaellos). The same thing happened when I took my first bite of the nougat bliss balls I discovered at the drugstore.
An easy morning at school. The fact that my commute is SO much shorter now. One morning, I walked to school in the sunshine, discovered a bar with a lovely name ("Zum Spozl") and a cosy bakery, peope drinking their cappuccinos outside, everything seemed a little enchanted.
Hanging out by the river with some burners. Fox arrived a little later, lay down with his head in my lap and I carressed his hair. I made karaoke plans with Emily and Ben - he mentioned an artist I hadn't listened to in years, Macy Gray. I spent the next morning listening to my favourite album of hers. So good.
Cycling so much more. Even long distances. Feeling the power in my legs, making it through tough parts, realising that I'm not my body.
A nice little talk with a new colleague (of course, the resident nerd girl) who promptly invited me to a Wiesn meet-up with the staff.
I expected to have Covid but it was just tonsillitis. So at least I only missed one day of school in my first week there and didn't have to suffer a whole lot thanks to antibiotics.
Making vegan peach scones.
Anton, a colleague I can have entire ironic conversations with, trash-talk, it's like a never-ending joke. But behind the facade he's actually a super affectionate guy!
Gratitude journalling, joining an online breathwork class. Reaching out socially. Doing the work!
Making my first pumpkin soup this year.
Seeing beauty everywhere! Purple and yellow flowers. Compliments.
Two lovely experiences with doctors: The highly energetic lady at the orthopedic practice who exaggerated all her moves (which helped her explanations so much, I could follow her perfectly) and complimented me on my nail polish. And when my medication wasn't available, my GP just walked over to the pharmacy with me, took out her medical license like a boss and prescribed something different for me on the spot.
My latest OSHO Zen tarot adventures: The Miser and the Lovers fell out of the deck. And it's beautiful. I keep drawing No-Thingness now... does the Universe want to bully me back into meditating daily?!
The subway driver re-opened the doors for me when I arrived on the platform late!
Finally working with the Expressed workbook. Eliah's breathwork session.
A crazy squirrel jumping up and down in the garden.
Fluffy pink clouds at sunrise.
Catan night with Caro, Kevin and Dave.
A chill day on the balcony. Breakfast, reading, mani/pedi with my legs up.
Having frozen dumplings at home! Knödel-upon-arrival.
Long conversations with Fox. Realising how similar we are.
Attending an Isar jam session with Manu! Playing ALL the instruments. Singing together, walking over to a little birthday rave with Felix, Michael, Emily and Chili. Receiving support when a crazy guy came running after me and wouldn't let me go.
My new-found magnetism.
Crazy dancing in my living room as preparation for a breathwork session.
"Danke fürs Unterrichten, es hat heute Spaß gemacht!" - which is not what you hear from your students every day.
My obsession with homemade burritos. Freakin' delicious and an easy way to sneak more legumes and vegetables into your diet.
The first choir practice after a very long break. Connecting with Kathrin, Fiorina and Heike.
Long talks with Frau Herzen. She's such a sweetheart.
Turning my room into a corn field with a new colour-changing lamp.
An older gentleman struck up a conversation during my morning commute by acting surprised that someone was still reading a book in a world of smartphone addicts. We spoke English (presumably because I had an English book in my lap) but quickly switched to French upon learning that he'd lived there for years. I was sad to get off at the next stop already.
Inventing space bun pigtails. Such a fun hairstyle.
Finally splurging on a Perifit. Fuck yeah gamification.
Starting my Kartoffelkombinat test phase. Picking up my first box of vegetables from a neighbour's garage.
The Gasteig rooftop is my new hotspot. The sunset view is breathtaking up there. The first night I went there I felt very pretty and sophisticated. Talked to Sandra for a long time until Felix showed up and we all cuddled on a bench. I loved touching his hand and his little carresses. What a gentle person!
Celebrating Sandra's birthday with a roadtrip to a lake south of Munich. I played sea monster with Tatjana's little son Lou and Robert taught me his best chess moves. Cake, prosecco, playing ball. Naughty sunset photos. Love!
Hanging out with Manu in the park. And meeting up for sushi. I love getting him to go take a break from work on Thursdays and spend some time with me.
Going to the gym with Caro! She lent me all the stuff I'd forgotten and corrected my posture on the machines. Gracias!
My therapist agreeing with me. Having a great conversation. And I actually get to give HER advice now sometimes.
Being pampered at the hairdresser's. I love Peggy, she's such a cool person and easy to talk to.
Meeting Franzi. We hadn't seen each other for such a long time. And that's always our dynamic - whenever we see meet we can't understand why we don't see each other more often because we get along famously. We talked about our dead parents and medical history. Life, plans, aspirations. I love her. Sitting outside Cafe Colombo with her felt like a warm embrace.
Bringing Manu along to choir practice! Everyone loved him and gave him a warm welcome (and Andrea compared him to a Viking?!). I've got two choir husbands now.
Visiting my granny friends on a very rainy Friday. Bringing my homemade Amaretto walnut cake. Promising to cook a tofu dish for them they'll actually enjoy.
Taking out the recycling one Sunday morning. Stopping at the playground to lie down in the nest swing.
Attending the Two Steps from Hell concert at Olympiahalle with Lena, Manu, Obi and two other friends. I loved the background choir and the majestic vibes. Whispering to Manu and Lena. Getting sour candy. Drifting off sometimes, thinking about C. Feeling hot wearing a see-through top and all black. Maintaining eye contact with a dude I thought I might know (and find attractive).
Getting back into graphic design work by designing a flyer for the clothes swap party I'm going to host with Marah in November. Next projects: the new playspace bingo sheet and a catcalling stamp.
Advertising my sex therapist services in a room full of parents.
My Wiesn evening with colleagues. I had the best conversations with Andrea, asked everyone what their go-to karaoke songs were. Grinding with Anton. Got a vegan sausage with Karina and schemed where to get a pocket knife to become blood sisters. I met Isi and realised that we'd already been to a wedding together. My highlight was getting to know Vietzi who's side hustle is working as a famous house DJ. When I looked into his eyes he held my gaze for a long time. Intense. And he smelled SO good.
I had a very positive experience with a class everyone had warned me about. In the end they even wanted to keep me as their class tutor!
Spekulatius almonds. More addictive than crack. Freeze-dried strawberries and spelt flakes.
A doggie showing up at choir practice. Learning complex/multi-layered new (for me) songs.
Learning that my therapist used to be a bookseller.
Lunch break at Gans am Wasser.
Cycling to the gym, getting a whole day for free. Hanging out on the rooftop, taking selfies. Having the sauna all to myself. Going swimming, doing strength training.
A strong massage.
Saving bakery goods via the TooGoodToGo app.
Getting shit done despite being SO tired!
The fact that my colleagues tell me what to do when I substitute for them! I love it when I don't have to came up with a random topic for students I don't even know.
Only preparing ONE wrap instead of two (which inevitably leads to overeating).
Another evening at Dachgarten with Sandra, Robert and Frank. Julien was there with his Micro Disco. I met Feli who told us about the Avantgardista fair and I hugged Stefan and Heike (these guys are the best).
Chili's birthday party! Emily's strong drinks, Ben's crazy accents. Slap shots. Trying N₂O for the first time. Painting Stefan's face with neon colours. A goodbye kiss.
Having my bike fixed (and the guy actually hurried up the process for me)! It feels amazing not to have loose pedals anymore - and working breaks don't hurt either.
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simslegacy5083 · 1 year
Text
NSB (Straud Legacy) Gen 8 Ep. 48: Engaging Thoughts
Weathering bad times and good together recently had shown Paul that he and Nikita were a great team: a team he’d like to make permanent.
Now he just had to let their family in on the plan and come up with a proposal that would wow her. He couldn’t think of one himself, but he could think of quite a few family members that were either well published experts, or simply extremely experienced on the topic of romance and weddings.
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Before he proposed, he felt it would be good to obtain Nikita’s families blessing. He knew it was a funny old tradition, but it felt like a nice way to start the whole in-law thing off on the right foot. Also, he was seeking advice on the proposal, and they might have the perfect suggestion for him.
Like Paul she was the youngest in her family, so much so that both her parents had passed on, leaving only her older brother to raise her.
While they were having a get together at the park, he took her brother aside and received both his blessing and a few tips on Nikita’s preferences.
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When a long day at the greenhouse had Paul’s back aching, he headed to the arts center for one of his dad’s soothing stone massages.
While the tension in his muscles was melting under Spencer’s expert care, Paul opened up about his plans and asked for his advice.
Smiling as he recalled his own spur of the moment proposal, Spencer told his son that if he wanted ideas for something well thought out, he’d come to the wrong Sim. His uncles had done a much better job planning their proposals though, maybe he’d have better luck in Henford.
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Paul had been meaning to take Nikita out to see team farm’s primary fizzing operation anyway, so the trip was an easy sell.
While Tori gave her an animal lovers tour of the place, he pulled Ed and Steven aside to get their thoughts on proposing in style. Steven told him not to try anything fancy with the ring lest he risk ruining the surprise, while Ed’s advice was to simply speak from the heart.
Paul thought the advice was a little tame, at least for a renowned romance expert, but perhaps they were right that in his nervous case, approaching it simply would be safer than trying anything complicated he might get wrong …or maybe Uncle Steven was just getting more humble with age.
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Paul’s plans finally came together when a certain groom-to-be invited his great grandson to the Magic Realm for a friendly duel.
The older mage bested the younger in short order, and afterwards Paul invited him to chat on a nearby bench. He was sure his romantically minded and many-times married great grandfather would have some good ideas on how to ask for his girl’s hand in marriage, and he was right.
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Don suggested Paul take advantage of the beautiful island venue he’d booked for his ceremony. It was only bad form to propose at someone else’s wedding if they weren’t in on the plan, and because it was such an unusual choice Nikita would never be expecting it.
Picturing himself down on one knee on a beach decorated with symbols of love and bathed in starlight, Paul agreed that sounded fantastic and thanked Don for offering him the option. The ancient mage replied that Yvette and he were excited to share the love; they’d been matchmaking left and right.
The two men parted at the portal with a heartfelt hug, and Paul headed back to Brindleton with plans to go ring shopping in the very near future.
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