#Jaz writes

[soemthingsparkly]

Mumbo works in a cafe and the Sunday is just miserable and busy and they're understaffed and by the time they lock the door behind them they're 50 minutes after closing - close down is never supposed to take any more than 30.

Anyway its almost 4pm on a Sunday and he missed his first bus to get home so has to wait another 40 minutes to get the next one.

He's prepared to just sit in the bus shelter and feel a little sorry for himself when he hears a familiar voice.

"Hey, handsome, can I give you a ride somewhere?"

And he looks up and low and behold there's Scott, spinning the keys to his little blue car around his fingers and Mumbo's shoulders go limp with relief.

"I thought you were meeting up with Lizzie today," he says to Scott.

Scott smiles. "I rain checked."

"What, why?"

"Because I got your texts at lunch and you seemed pretty upset with life, so I thought I could take you home, make you a cup of tea and then fetch us some dinner."

Mumbo could sob.

"What do you say, baby?"

"Are you real?"

Scott laughs and steps up to Mumbo, puts his hands on his thighs and leans in. He smiles and then kisses his lips softly and briefly.

"You tell me."

Mumbo slips his arms around Scott and sighs into his shoulder. He just needs to be held for a second and then they can get going. Just a second.

And then Scott takes his hand and leads him to his car and they head home.

Tea, dinner, and an evening on the sofa is fetched.

[jazforthesoul]

who up yearning

guys i wrote waning crescent again because i love them

[jazwritesalot]

In Bloom

Pairing: Shinsou Hitoshi/Bakugou Katsuki, ShinBaku Fandom: My Hero Academia, Boku no Hero Academia Rating: Teen & Up Audiences Word Count: 2.3K Tags: past KiriBaku, Kirishima and Bakugou break up, Foster Kid Shinsou Hitoshi, Shinsou and Bakugou are good friends, Ambiguous canon compliance, they could be heroes or this could be a High School AU, Getting together, ShinBaku, angst, fluff

Link to AO3

Summary: Christmas was a difficult time for Hitoshi. Year after year, he wished for a better life, and a way to combat loneliness. Only to be sorely disappointed. Will the holidays in his third year be any better? Or will it be another disappointment in the books?

Written for my dear friend Foxy for the holidays <3

The holidays were hard for Hitoshi—they always were when one grew up in the system. He almost loathed Christmas at this point. Too many bad memories attached. Year after year, he would find himself hoping that he would get adopted, only to be severely disappointed when the day would pass, and he would still be at the orphanage. 

By the time he was in High School, he had all but given up hope that anything good would come. So imagine his surprise when one of the teachers took an interest in him. One that wasn’t even a part of his homeroom. It made him feel special, but he refused to get his hopes up—that would just be setting himself up for heartbreak. And he had enough stress to deal with, what with trying to keep up with his courses. Luckily, he had met someone who was just as passionate as he was about his schooling—maybe even more so than he was.

Bakugou Katsuki was an enigma to him; a man that seemed out of his reach. And boy, would he love to reach more for him. They met during his first year in High School, and immediately they butted heads. Bakugou was brash and arrogant; all things Hitoshi was not. At least, that’s how he seemed on the outside. 

As second year approached, with Hitoshi transferring courses and being fostered by Aizawa-sensei, he got to know Bakugou as he was roped into his friend group by Kaminari. He saw how protective and caring he was, and how he showed his love for his friends through acts of service. It made him more enamored with the man, but alas he was a forbidden fruit—already claimed by Kirishima. 

And to his credit, Hitoshi tried not to let it get him down in the dumps too much, even if it was his luck to develop feelings for someone who was already in a relationship. He tried his own hand at dating, but it just wasn’t the right shade of blond he would dream about at night. Which always made him feel guilty and would end with the relationships fizzling out early.  

So, one night, when a knock on his dorm room came, he was extremely surprised to see a puffy-eyed Bakugou standing on the other side. They were in their third year at this point, and the two had grown quite close as friends. Their snark rivaled one another’s, and the rest of the group just couldn’t wrap their heads around how someone so loud and explosive could be friends with someone so quiet and calculative. Though the same could be said for how Bakugou could be with someone so ‘sunshine incarnate’ as Kirishima (Kaminari’s words, not his), not that Hitoshi wanted to think about Kirishima right now. Or ever.  

Seeing Bakugou wasn’t the surprise—it was the raw display of downtrodden emotion on his face that gave him a pause. And damn Hitoshi for his heart starting to race as he ushered his friend into the room. This probably wasn’t even what he thought it was, so no need to get his hopes up. 

“Sorry for intruding.” It was weird hearing him sound so soft, so meek. Where was the Bakugou that was confident to a fault? The Bakugou that wasn’t afraid to be the loudest in the room.

“It’s okay, really. What’s got you up and about this late?” The ‘and here with me instead of Kirishima’ was implied. The clock was flashing 2am—well past Bakugou’s bed time, and well into Hitoshi’s prime hours. 

The silence stretched on after the question, the hope that was growing in his gut threatening to overtake him. A deep exhale came from Bakugou, who walked past Hitoshi to sit on his bed. 

“We broke up.” The three words were short, the bitterness and sadness rolling off the blond in waves. So much so that Hitoshi felt bad for being grateful. Only slightly though. Silently, Hitoshi joined Bakugou on the bed, mulling over his words and trying to tamper down the sordid excitement that was coursing through his veins. 

“That’s unfortunate to hear. I am sorry, Katsuki.” It wasn’t a lie—Hitoshi was sorry that his friend was hurting like he was. Bakugou looked over at him, eyes narrowing slightly. 

“Don’t bullshit me, Hitoshi.” He blinked in surprise; even though they were close friends, Bakugou normally called him by some crazy nickname. 

“What do you mean?” Best for him to feign ignorance in this moment rather than to piss his friend off even more.

“I know you were never a fan of Ei-Kirishima,” he corrected himself, “so you don’t have to pretend to feel sorry for me.” Bakugou looked away from Hitoshi, who was gaping at the blond. He didn’t realize he had been so overt about his feelings toward the redhead. But he had no idea how to rectify the situation.

“Maybe it was a mistake coming here,” Bakugou sighed, standing up. In a panic, Hitoshi reached out and grabbed his wrist, pinning the other man in place. 

“Don’t go.” His voice cracked as he begged. Bakugou looked over his shoulder at him, eyes roving over his face before silently making the decision to stay, sitting back down next to Hitoshi. What surprised him, however, was that Bakugou did not pull away from him, letting his wrist sit loosely in Hitoshi’s grip. Once again, the silence stretched on, not uncomfortable, but not wholly pleasant either. 

“While it’s true that I never was a fan of you and Kirishima together,” Hitoshi started, focusing on the calming pulse beneath his fingertips, “I would never go as low as to pretend to feel sorrow for you.” He felt a spike in the pulse, but it could have been his imagination, his own heartbeat doing erratic acrobatics in his chest. “My feelings are as authentic as yours are—while I cannot deny that I am happy to hear that you are no longer with him, I can also empathize with you and can imagine the pain you must be feeling.” 

“You like me or somethin’, Eyebags?” Bakugou asked, a smidge of humor in his voice, which was a godsend to hear. If only it wasn’t that question being asked. A humorless chuckle left Hitoshi, and Bakugou turned his scrutinizing gaze on the other man. The silence was deafening and all the answer that Hitoshi needed to give the blond. “You’re kidding me, right?” Hitoshi wished the floor would open up and swallow him whole at this point. The man literally just got out of a two-and-a-half year relationship, and here he is confessing his feelings to him. 

“I’m sorry, Katsuki.” It was the only thing that Hitoshi felt was right to say at that moment. What else could he possibly say? ‘I’m sorry—please give me a chance?’ Yeah, that would go over well. 

“Why are you apologizing?” 

“Because it’s not fair to you. You loved Kirishima, and I fell for you anyway.” Here it came—the word vomit that’s been lying dormant for years. “I watched from a distance, hoping that there would be a chance that we could be, but knowing deep in my heart that there would never be any way for us to work out. Not now, at least. And then I am a bastard for being ecstatic that you are now single. I should be helping you mourn the loss, not sitting here rejoicing that there may finally, finally be a chance that we could be together.” He trailed off awkwardly, not wanting to put his foot in his mouth any further. 

Bakugou, to his credit, just stared at Hitoshi unblinking. He didn’t threaten the man, nor did he get up and leave. Just sat there, gaping at him like he had told him what was inside Pandora’s box. What confused Hitoshi the most was that instead of pulling away, Bakugou twisted his hand so their fingers intertwined. Hitoshi blinked owlishly at him, this time him frozen in place while Bakugou thawed enough to speak. 

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” The words, normally an insult, were said with such fondness that small tears sprouted in Hitoshi’s eyes. “Would you like to hear why we broke up?” The question seemed both out of place, yet pertinent to the building tension that was bubbling up between the two of them. 

“Sure,” Hitoshi rasped out. 

“We realized we were growing apart, rather than stronger together.” That seemed simple enough—but Hitoshi was wary. Bakugou was an all-or-nothing kind of guy; for him to give up so easily went against the very fiber of his being. “We also realized we were starting to harbor feelings for someone else.” The words were said with a pointed look, one that made Hitoshi’s face flush. 

Oh… 

“We decided that it would be best to end the relationship rather than continue to string one another along. We owed that to each other. And yeah, we will still be friends after the sting passes, but it’s what’s best for us.” Hitoshi could only nod along to what Bakugou was saying, his mind reeling from the possibilities that were trying to play out before him. 

“You make it sound so easy, but I know that you’re hurting too.” Bakugou squinted at him, like Hitoshi just wasn’t getting something, but Hitoshi would be damned if he let himself get his hopes up like that. Bakugou said “someone else,” but he didn't specify that it was him. And Hitoshi would be damned if he let himself be some sort of weird rebound for Bakugou. 

“Of course I’m hurting. Kirishima was my everything. But things change—feelings change. And that’s okay. Because, like I said, my feelings for someone else started to develop into more than feelings of friendship.” This time the words were accompanied by a squeeze of their entwined hands, and Hitoshi finally let the small spark of hope fester. 

“How long?’ He had to know, had to make sure that this wasn’t something fleeting that would fizzle out in a month’s time, leaving Hitoshi as broken as Bakugou was the moment he entered his room at 2am. 

“I can’t pinpoint exactly when it started, but probably at least a month by now. For me at least.” Bakugou shifted closer to him on the bed, which caused Hitoshi’s face to heat up.  

“A month?” Hitoshi couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Bakugou had been harboring feelings for him for a month, and he had been blind to it. True, he was probably repressing said feelings since he was otherwise taken at the time, but still. To know that the object of his affections felt the same way about him was empowering.  

“A month.” The confirmation was followed by a quick glance to Hitoshi’s lips, which made his head spin. The gravitational pull between the two men was impossible to deny or to resist. They were inches apart when Bakugou stopped and looked Hitoshi in the eyes. 

“Is this okay?” The question felt loaded, but in a good way. All the years of pining coming to fruition made Hitoshi see stars. Briefly, he thought about Kirishima, and how they literally just broke up thirty minutes ago, but he pushed the thoughts of the redhead to the side. Sure, maybe they should be going slower than this, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Especially with how passionately Bakugou was looking at him—a moth being drawn into the glowing embers of a pyre. 

“More than okay.” That was all the reassurance that Bakugou needed before bridging the gap between the two of them, their lips pressing together softly. Kissing Bakugou Katsuki was like taking a first breath of fresh air after being submerged in water. It filled Hitoshi with hope. Hope that maybe, for once in his life, the holidays were something that could be worth looking forward to. As they pulled apart, Hitoshi felt himself leaning forward for more, which earned him a chuckle from Bakugou.

“Easy there, ‘Toshi. Don’t want to get too carried away too soon.” Which made sense to him, but the nickname got him right in the heart. Damn Bakugou for being so desirable. And desirable he was, sitting on his bed in his black sweats and t-shirt, a cocky yet soft grin on his face.  

“Can’t help it when there’s someone as great as you in my bed with me.” The teasing words made Bakugou blush, which was a far better look on the man compared to the tear-stained cheeks he sported not more than thirty minutes prior. 

“Oi! Shuddup!” Hitoshi could only laugh at Bakugou, which earned him a non-heated glare before he yawned loudly. “I know this is pretty bold of me, but do you mind if I sleep here?” he asked, rubbing his eyes. 

“Kissing me AND trying to get into my bed? How scandalous. You haven’t even taken me out on a date yet.” He expertly dodged the Snorlax plush that was thrown at him. “But to answer your question, of course you can stay here.” It wouldn’t be the first time that Bakugou had crashed in his room, and as it now stood, it probably wouldn’t be the last. 

“Thanks Hitoshi. For everything.” Another brief kiss was pressed against his lips before Bakugou curled himself up under the covers, the weight of the day seeming to disappear as his breathing evened out. Sure, they had a lot to talk about tomorrow, when they both woke up, but Hitoshi was about 99 percent sure he was going to be spending this holiday with his new boyfriend at his parents’ house. Which filled Hitoshi with a hope that he realized he had been missing out on for years. For the first time in his life, he actually was looking forward to Christmas.    

[jasperthejester]

me: finally accepting theres a good chance im autistic and starting to work up the courage to ask my parents to see if i could get a diagnoses but being scared to

my mom: do you ever think you have adhd? if you want to do a screening for add next time your at the doctors you can

me:

[jordanmoreau]

Nothing In Particular

limoreau au; �� in which two strangers come to understand one another as friends and (perhaps) as something more♡ 1,6k words

───

“Can you not be a jack ass for like, 5 minutes?” Marie grumbles weakly, her slender fingers lazily stirring the spoon that sat in her half drunken coffee. It must have been almost cold by now, the foam now separated and sad.

Her eyes never strayed from the window opposite where her and Emma sat, watching absentmindedly as leaves swayed and danced down from the trees above. Her friend snorted lightly next to her, nudging Marie’s leg with her foot jovially.

“C’mon, can’t you take a joke? she chirps. Her notes are left forgotten in front of her, half of them threatening to fall off on top the slabbed floor. They were barely legible due to the excessive highlighter however Emma insisted she could read them perfectly. Marie didn’t believe her.

“If you're interested in them, why don’t you just go over and say hi?” she says, as though its as easy as that. She begins scrunching up her face when Marie protests, “they’re not going to bite your head off, top ten or not”.

───

Emma was referring to a certain bi gender student that now occupied the furthermost booth inside the tiny cafe they had begun to frequent since the beginning of the semester.

It was a few weeks before that Marie had decided to give the new spot a try. She had sighed shakily to herself before entering, bracing herself for the certain conversation at the counter. The bell above the door chimes as she opens the door and it startles her a little. Did she always have to be so on edge, she thinks.

She orders at the counter with ease (a chai oat latte, extra cinnamon). Whilst waiting she leans against the counter, hugging her self tightly from inside her jacket.

Her head turns as she studies her surroundings curiously. It’s quiet apart from one other person, their mass of dark curls falling across their forehead as they bowed their head, clearing immersed in whatever they were reading. A pair of round wire rim glasses sit on the table in front of them along with a small pouch of pens and a stack of textbooks. Marie can make out 'Hero Ethics' in bold on the side of one of them, the rest of the words escaping her vision.

As if feeling eyes on them, the strangers head suddenly shifts, wet brown eyes coming into view as they peer upward. Marie's cheeks feel hot and she hurriedly turns away, feeling caught and almost knocks her order off the counter with her arm. She pulls her bag higher up on shoulder with a grimace and picks up her drink. A beeline for the nearest window table, she doesn't look back over for fear of making eye contact.

───

Over the next few visits Marie catches herself looking for the stranger in the corner. Her bottom lip snagged subconsciously between her teeth and a ridiculous amount of caffeine under her belt.

The stranger never looked the same twice in one week, she realized. On one day she’d entered to find them leaning back nonchalantly, legs spread in a comfortable manner. One hand held a book with ease, the other playing with their hair. It was short, slightly wavy and swept back off their face. A necklace that hung around there neck was balancing against their lip as though placed there as they read and a jacket was draped across their broad shoulders.

The next week, she almost missed them. Marie could tell it was the same person instinctively, the same blue jacket slung over the back of the booth and a sleek curtain of raven black hair falling against their cheeks in a little bob. She watched intently as the stranger pouted softly, pausing their note taking and reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind their ear. They seemed to think for a while, twirling their pen between their fingers before returning to the page.

Marie liked the way their hair sat prettily around their face, the way their shoulders tensed slightly or when they chewed absentmindedly on their pen.

She didn’t know what was so magnetic about this stranger; maybe it was nothing in particular.

───

It was the day before last that Marie had chosen to peek at the stranger again, only tilting her head slightly and peering through her eyelashes. Her heart faltered though when she realized they had met her gaze. This caused her mouth to run dry and she felt a pang of panic rise in her stomach.

Their head tilted slightly to one side almost cat-like, the corners of their mouth twitching almost like a smile was threatening to break through. Marie silently cursed herself for being so nosy and decided to concentrate on her work, head ducking down. She almost dove head long into her latte in an attempt to seem busy, the cinnamon causing her to cough lamely as she inhaled it.

By the end of her study session (Marie had persevered, very bravely she thought) she had completed a few pages of work for her intro to Hero Ethics class. She blows on the pages from a short distance, hoping to hurry along the ink drying. The bell above the door chimes behind her and she flinches only to notice that the booth in the corner was now empty.

“Chai latte, extra cinnamon?” the server appears at her table, cradling a cup and saucer. Marie frowns with confusion, finger tips tapping her empty cup.

“I didn’t order anything, I’m sorry,” she says, to which the server shakes the head.

“It’s been paid for,” they say, gently setting it down. Marie freezes for a second at that before thanking the server. She tries to push away the butterflies in her stomach, giving the cafe one last scan before returning to her notes.

───

“It must’ve been them!” Emma says loudly. Marie’s gives her a tight lipped expression in return, causing Emma to roll her eyes with a playful grin.

“You know I could introduce you,”

Marie almost gets whiplash from how quickly her head snaps up at that. “You know them?” she whispers, almost afraid of them hearing her from across the room.

Emma mumbles something incoherent, gesturing with her fingers.

“Vaguely,” Marie scoffs at that. Emma throws her a look of indignation. “I do!”.

Emma knew of them. She recognized their face from the rankings board, nearly tackling Marie when she told her about the 'mysterious booth stranger' with the unreadable demeanor.

Today, the stranger was hunched over their table with their head down. Marie assumed that they were writing something urgent, a paper perhaps. They had barely looked up, hand gliding over each page without stopping.

Marie hadn’t looked over hardly at all that day, bringing Emma along for a good distraction. Besides, the girl was always a good friend to have around. Unfortunately she also had a habit of never letting anything go. Marie swallows.

“Do you have a pen I can borrow?”

Marie’s trance is broken, the gentle cadence new and almost musical. It was the stranger from the booth. They were in their male form, expression controlled and brows knitted together. Marie couldn’t help but stare for a moment, mouth slightly ajar before Emma interjected.

“Marie has one, don’t you Marie?” Emma says, intentionally pushing her own pencil case toward Marie with the end of her pencil. The stranger looks to Emma for a moment before focusing back on Marie.

“Yeah?” they ask, their hip grazing the table as they step closer. Marie, finally snapping out of her momentary daze, pushes the pen in her hand toward them. Their eyes follow Marie’s movement, flitting between the pen and her face.

Marie gives them a tight lipped smile, inwardly urging them to leave. She can’t take the awkwardness she’s exuding. However the stranger suddenly smiles, a small lovely smile. She notices the dimples that appear as they smile wider and her pulse jumps at the sight.

“Thank you, Marie” they say, waving the pen as if to indicate they were taking it. They don’t move for a second, a moment of silence falling across the trio. Emma pretends to clear her throat, leaning across the table.

“And you are…” she asks, her face contorted comically as though she has a lot riding on the answer. Marie felt like she at least, did.

The stranger half smiles again, scratching the back of their head.

“Uhh, Jordan?”they offer, almost posing it as a question. Emma grins, clearly pleased with herself.

“Emma,” she says, using two thumbs to point at herself, “and this is Marie, obviously”

It’s then with a pang of embarrassment that Marie realises Jordan’s eyes haven’t left her face since Emma began talking.

Jordan nods at her and Marie wonders if they’re usually this shy. Emma coughs again as if to alert Marie, eyeing the two exasperatedly.

Jordan smiles again awkwardly, mumbling something about “seeing them around” and wonders off back to their table, pen in hand. Emma smacks her hands dramatically on the table to which Marie jumps. Emma expression screams “are you kidding me” as she jabs a finger at a retreating Jordan.

“Stop,” Marie hisses desperately. Jordan finds their way back to their table, leaning down to test the pen on a loose bit of paper. Presumably pleased, they sit back down. Marie wants to scream at herself. She rubs her face roughly, frustrated.

"Hero Ethics, right?" a voice calls. It's Jordan, leaning across their table with their textbook presented toward Marie. She can read it more clearly now and she realizes that Jordan must be the year above her, maybe even a senior.

Marie nods slowly. She blinks and Jordan's half way across the room already, rounding her table before she can utter an audible response. A folder in hand, Jordan offers it to her. "First year notes," they explain. With a shaky hand, Marie takes them. She smiles, her first proper smile in their presence and meets their gaze.

"Thanks," she says, trying to keep her voice steady. Jordan shrugs coolly.

"Least I can do, freshman".

// authors note: did someone say, slow burn?? I am fairly rusty at writing like this so this was a little daunting to start however I hope this reads well. If this does well, I'll begin writing a part two soon! <3 trust me the study partners will be partnering eventually.

[kwonzoshi]

“We stop them.” Marie said, nerves evident in the quiver of her voice. Jordan glanced at Emma, who was strangely composed about this entire situation. Then again, not everyone reacts the same to homicide. 

“Okay, fine. We stop them.” Jordan said, eyes glancing from Emma to Marie. “What’s the plan?” 

After taking a few moments to gather themselves, all three of them made their way to the main campus. The air cackled with different degrees of emotion. Anger, fear, frustration, more fear. Jordan, still in their fem form, stole glances at Marie. There were so many unspoken things between them. So many moments they may not get to have. 

The walk was quick, and quiet. Before they knew it they made it to The Woods. Only to find that Cate and Sam had already wreaked havoc and left a pile of bodies behind.

“Jesus fucking christ.” Jordan said quietly, huffing a breath. The guard that lay in front of them had his entire face ripped off. It was so grotesque it seemed almost fake, and they knew this was only the beginning. “We have to split up,” Marie started, glancing at Jordan and Emma. “Emma, you clear the performing arts center. Okay, teachers, administration, everyone.” She turned to face Jordan, “Jordan, you sweep the student union.” “There’s a panic button in Shetty’s office.” they looked up at Marie, “Under her desk. It’ll lock down pretty much everything.” Marie released a shaky breath, “Okay, that’s where I’m going.”

They started to make their way toward the entrance, Emma basically sprinting while Jordan and Marie trailed behind. As Emma disappeared from sight, Jordan made the decision to be brave, they might not get another chance. They grabbed Marie’s hand, stopping her. Marie looked down at them, concern and confusion all over her face.

“Hey…” they started, eyes locking onto hers. “Before we go out there, to face whatever the fuck Cate started, I just have something I need to say.” They pulled their hand back, and rubbed it on their pant leg. “Ummm,” they let out a breath, “I know that this whole thing between us hasn’t necessarily been conventional. With everything going on, we really haven’t had the chance to do things the right way but we’re about to face some really big shit. Like, life threatening we could die, shit.” They chuckled dryly, “So I just wanted to say that I’m sorry. I’m sorry for buying into Brink’s bullshit. I’m sorry for rejecting you from the school. I’m just sorry for everything. I needed to make sure I said that to you.” Marie smiled softly down at them, “You have nothing to apologize for, Jordan. You had no reason to believe that man was a piece of shit.” She shrugged, “It happens. People hide things. People suck. But as far as rejecting me from the school, yeah I’m never letting that shit go.” She laughed softly and took a step forward, tucking a loose strand of hair behind Jordan’s ear. “I forgave you the second you batted those beautiful brown eyes at me so… basically the next day. Besides, you’ve made up for it in more ways than one. You fought Golden Boy AND his brother to protect me.” Jordan chuckled, placing their hand on Marie’s waist, “Do not flatter yourself Moreau, I would’ve done that for anyone.” Their expression changed, “If we make it through this, I hope we get a chance to see where this thing goes. A real chance.” They raised a hand and gently stroked Marie’s cheek. “I don’t need to see anything else to know that we’re good together.” She mirrored Jordan’s caress, “I don’t doubt for a second that we’re making it through this. We have to.” “We have to…” they echoed before pulling Marie into a gentle kiss. Their hands moved in sync, cupping the back of each other’s heads gently. As tongue met tongue the kiss deepened, and became more demanding. They both knew that this could be the last time they’d have a chance to share a moment like this, so they dove in headfirst. Marie’s hand gripped Jordan’s shirt as they allowed themselves to be swept away, if only for a moment, by their feelings. They pulled apart, breath catching in their chests and their eyes screaming the things they were too scared to say out loud.

Neither spoke as they went their separate ways, wanting the last thing that they shared to be that sweet intimate moment. 

******

Jordan stood, a bright smile on their face as they turned to face Marie. They were in their masculine form now, slowly walking toward her. “See?” Marie said, smiling. “We’re good together.” Jordan chuckled as they continued to make their way towards her. 

Out of the corner of their eye they saw Cate approaching, arm stretched out. 

“NO!” Marie shouted, extending her own hand. Her fingers twitched and Cate’s forearm exploded, sending splatters of blood everywhere. Jordan saw the look of shock on Marie’s face. As if she wasn’t aware that she could do that. Cate’s screams filled the air and that was the last thing they remember before they woke up in an unfamiliar place. 

[potatoobsessed999]

WIP Word Search

Tagged by @jaz-the-bard <3 love u!

How it works: I search for the words assigned to me by the person who tagged me and share the relevant snippets. I then choose four words for others to search in their own WIP(s).

I'm gonna use my Berúthiel WIP! I would like to show it off a bit.

My words: rise, need, shadow, number

-

Rise: no instances in this WIP!

Need:

Still she could not always stay within her nurse’s protection; she needed her respites from any kind of company or attention, so by necessity she grew more adept at finding sitting-places where she would not be noticed by anyone who happened to come near. Cabinets and garden shrubs and old forgotten rooms became her friends; she would sit snug behind shelter and watch, through greenery or keyhole, as the world went by.

Shadow: (cw for gore on this one!)

“Oh!” said her nurse. “Do you mean – but they are wicked people, child – criminals and misbelievers and barbarous foemen. They ought to suffer. No one would do the like to you – not in a thousand years!” “Yes, they would,” Tamar whispered, and did not know how to put into words the truth of what she was saying: that every time, every time, she felt the knife in the sacrifice’s breast slide like a shadow into her own; that she knew how her blood would run from her in rivulets if spilled, because it would run the same way theirs did; that one heart looked the same as another held up in bloodied hands, and if it might as well be hers as theirs, then what difference did it make which bosom it happened to be torn from?

Number:

Tamar watched them until they went around the corner out of sight. Then she crept into the room they had taken the bags and things out of. Inside, just as she had suspected, she found a lot of shelves and a number of barrels, the gaps between which made marvelous crannies to sit in.

I shall tag @halfelven, @edennill, @fingons-rad-harp, and anyone else who wants to! Your words are hope, road, echo, and home.

[soemthingsparkly]

wanted to shade and stuff more before posting but I'm impatient and have to sleep so have Mumbo, Scar, and Tango in their personalised Java Circuit Hoodies from my Coffee Shop AU The Hermit Coffee Co.

[jazforthesoul]

perhaps this is hell.

guys i wrote fnc pspspspsp i promise there's no angst here (LIE)

[kittykatz009]

Oooh thank you for the tag @babovens !

I'm on a FMAB writing kick right now, and this is probably the most "appropriate" part of this scene I'm working on

“Right where I want my boys,” Winry smirked, turning around and giving them both a sultry smile. Ling quirked an eyebrow at her, and Edward huffed out a small chuckle, apparently used to antics like this from his wife. 

I shall tag @wingsonghalo @toastytoaster22 and whoever else would like to play

Writing ask game 🪶

I was tagged by @bittersweetresilience to share the last line I wrote! Thank you beloved! ☀️

From the Aro Adrien & Demi Felix fic I am almost done with:

Adrien empties their cup in the sink, and opens the dishwasher.

— I unthread all the work I’ve done

The dishwasher is a recurring motif… 💜

Tagging @purplecatghostposts, @trishacollins, @neoncherryblossom, @beezonia, @jay--hawk, @capricious-lily, @faiirygrahamdevanily, @pegasusdrawnchariots, @thevioletthread, @bbutterflies (and anyone who wants to, as always) to share as well! 🪶

[jazwritesalot]

Bakugou asking to borrow Kirishima's phone because his died and he needs to look something up.

Imagine his surprise when the search history says "can you platonically rail your best friend?"

They start dating shortly after

[star--nymph]

Leliana, It is not in my interest to entertain the common gossip that you are so adapt at parsing through, but for the sake of the official record, I will dispel the worst of them for you. To be blunt, Lavellan is no Tranquil. I took it upon myself to examine her and I found no evidence of the Rite ever being performed on her. Further questioning of the Herald uncovered that she had limited knowledge of the Rite to begin with. I see no reason in pursuing this ridiculous subject any further. The prisoner Herald has the capacity to perform as well as the rest of us, mage or not. That she is of a...dreadful nature which requires observance is its own issue that is being personally dealt with as we speak. As for your inquiries, I can only repeat what Josephine has no doubt already reported: Lavellan traveled alone from the Northern Banks of the Minanter River as an envoy from her clan with the single of purpose of attending the Conclave and returning with her intel. She has had few interactions with human civilization prior to that by her own admissions. She is Dalish, trained by their leader--however I find this dubious given her actions. I have wondered if there is a chance she may be a maleficar but Solas has assured me that he has seen no signs of blood magic. How much I trust him, I can not say. But the worst I have seen of Lavellan so far is her habit of screeching at the top of her lungs during battle while performing her spells--and her penchant for vanishing for hours on end. I can fault her for nearly bursting my eardrum, but nothing else. If you must worry of any rumor, it is of the men spreading the name 'Banshee' around for her. It is doing nothing for their imaginations. I would ask that you and Josephine do not attempt to 'use' the name to your 'advantage' but I expect you already have...ugh, plans for it. I won't bother to stop you, as it is a fool's errand. Cassandra

we do love oc templates in this house and this time I'd like to thank @mt07131 for this template!

[providing-leverage]

It's just me and my rarepairs against the world

[arofili]

Can i request #3 with gondolin ot3? 👀 I feel like there's a lot of ways for that one to go!

Hold them down, snarled the voice in Maeglin’s head. Hold them down, and put your knife to her throat, and then to his—

No, Maeglin thought, squeezing his eyes shut. No, no, no...

For a moment, the voice went quiet. Maeglin lay, tense, between his lovers, Tuor clinging to his arm and Idril curled up with her head upon his chest. They were fast asleep, too tired to wake from his discomfort. They had tired each other out that evening, and Maeglin, too, was exhausted, but—

They are weak. Vulnerable.

Maeglin bit his tongue, not so hard that it would bleed, but almost. He couldn’t let them know. Couldn’t let anyone know...

I could...it would be so easy to...

The worst was when he couldn’t tell That Voice from his own thoughts. For so long hate had festered in his soul, and just when he thought he had conquered it...

Idril shifted, the puff of her breath stirring her perfect golden hair. On his other side, Tuor sniffled softly. It was springtime; he had allergies, that strange mortal failing. He breathed easier at night, with his wife, with his lover. With Maeglin.

Let me keep them just a little longer, Maeglin thought, squeezing his eyes shut. If there really is someone listening, besides—Him—please... Let me resist, just a little longer.

And somehow, sleep came.

Just a little longer. Just a little longer.

[kaze-writes]

🌹🌹🌹 and 🌹🌹🌹to you as well

What a lovely bouquet. Following your extra request, here's an excerpt from Never Have I Ever, a shameless smut story I had abandoned all hope of ever writing... until I did. A/N: This is entirely unedited so... bear with me.

Jaz didn’t respond. Her head was turned to the side, eyes fixed to the open door to Rich’s music room, through which the silhouette of a shiny black grand piano was just so discernible in the soft light coming in from the hallway. Slowly, she turned to Leon.

’Have you ever seen Pretty Woman?’

’Once, I think. Why?’

 Her smile was sweet but there was a spark in her eyes as she rose to her tiptoes to whisper into his ear.

’Never have I ever been done on a grand piano.’

~from: Never Have I Ever~

[inclusivesimping]

Lucid Dreaming

I'm friends with the monsters in head

Cuz the ones under my bed

Are long since dead

crushed under the weight of expectation

Good riddance to the loss of childlike innocence

Farewell to the death of my imagination

Lets play pretend like we're both friends

In a wildly out of key situation

Problems I've swept under the rug

You open your arms for a hug

Don't you know your wasting love?

Still, a selfish part of me,

Can't help but lean in to the touch

Then like the last note of a song

I look up and then your gone

Is this all a lucid mirage?

Is my life a vivid hallucination?

Wake me up from this mental purgatory

Anxieties inflammatory

I don't wanna live, but I'm scared to die

Papa says I'm hell-bound

Mama says I should try

Back to school necklace, wind it up tight

Would anyone miss me if I went missing tonight?

Save me from my self desecration,

This temple of mine is a cage

I claw at the bars

But hate the scars it gave

When pretty scarlet dies away

There's so many fancy names

Someone tell me how to escape

Chew me up and spit me out

I'll taste so sour in your mouth

Can't be a martyr if I'm so deserving of this fate

I will never be your saint

Hang my picture on the wall

Cover my story with whitewashed paint

Teach me as a tale for you to manipulate

They tell me I'm potential neatly packed

The mirror shatters when I turn my back

Seven years of bad luck and too many friends lost to track

My rose tinted glasses are cracked

So much time I can't get back

Someone save me from myself

Knife at my throat, but I can't tell

If its my demons or my own

Weren't we the same, all along?

That's what they say.

Someone wake me from lucid hallucination.