bellxeditions-blog

[dykevanny]

I need to work on my fanfiction . Hm

[aceghosts]

As if he senses their uncertainty, Wesker leaves the vials, approaching Hunter. He comes into their personal space, something that no longer bothers Hunter as he takes a shaggy strand of jet-black hair in his fingers. “I think,” He says, feigning innocence, “that you and I make a good team. I can rely on you to be dependable-.” Hunter snorts as Wesker gives them a teasing smirk. “When you are not being outrageously stubborn.”

“Outrageously stubborn? I think I’ll take that as a compliment,” They quip back, enjoying the causal playfulness with Wesker.

He chuckles. “Only you would,” Cocking his head slightly as his sunglasses slide forward to reveal his golden-red eyes, Wesker states, “We made a good team on the last mission.”

-Dead Man Walking

Template by @marivenah

[macabr3-barbi3]

Pillow Talk- Vox x Reader

(Banner made by my love, @fraugwinska 💛❤️💛)

A Vee Tower maid, you get an eyeful- and more- when stuck hiding in Vox's closet after Alastor comes back to town.

Tags: the Alastor body pillow; Dry Humping? I think that's what it would be; Accidental Voyeurism; Cunnilingus; One-Sided Alastor/Vox; Vaginal Sex; improper use of electricity lol; maid outfit; a tiny bit of hypnosis but not regarding the sex

[this is almost a crack fic honestly I laughed way too much writing it xD this was inspired by a few pieces of art- as soon as I can find the artists I'll link them below!]

So technically, you weren’t supposed to be here. The entire cleaning crew knew that the main apartments of the Vees were off limits unless they specifically asked for them to be serviced- you, specifically, would not be a welcome sight, especially by the CEO.

But when Vox had spotted you outside his office he had barely spared you a enough of a glance to get his hypnotic eye swirling before he had very explicitly stated, “I want every single thing in here put back where it belongs,” and apparently, to your will-bent limbs that meant even the fucking throw pillow on the couch needed to be returned to his home.

The blue striped fabric clutched in your arms, cleaning supplies left in one of the numerous cleaning closets, your feet took you to the elevator, pressing the button for the elevator to take you up to the penthouse. You were sweating a bit in your uniform- despite how little fabric the damn thing had (courtesy of Valentino deciding “if we have to fuckin’ look at them they might as well be hot” when hiring a cleaning crew, apparently) you were still nervous about going against established orders for implied ones. If Vox found out you had been in his section of the penthouse, in his room, Satan only knew what he would do to you.

That shouldn’t have excited you a little as you thought it, but it does- your breath comes a little quicker as you had entered the key code to Vox’s sector of the penthouse floor, thankfully empty as you enter and where you now stand. The television is playing something from the news, Vox sat at his desk with some sharp toothed red deer demon in the frame with him, mouth turned down into a frown and spewing vitriol- you caught some snippets of speech from the low volume, something about him being a fossil, outdated, et cetera. It wasn’t surprising- Vox and all of the Vees were all about innovation, updates, upgrades. If this guy was into older tech it made sense that he would take personal offense to that.

When you try to toss the cushion onto the couch your arm freeze, unwilling to release the fabric- which meant it wasn’t a couch pillow but a bedroom one, and your feet turn to take you in that direction. The door opens without a lock, and the room that greets you is a little neater than you would expect from the CEO of the company, being as prone to outbursts that the staff had to clean up as he was. The bed was made up, and finally your compelled brain allows you to throw the pillow out of your grasp to bounce harmlessly on the bed. Order satisfied, you’re about to turn to leave when the lights snap out with an audible click.

You freeze in the darkness, worried somehow that you’ve been caught, but they flicker on mere moments later. Another tentative step towards the door, and that’s when you hear it- a crackle of electricity from the living room, not unlike an arc flash, one that you’ve heard enough times working in this building to know what it means.

Vox is back.

In hindsight, it was fucking stupid. You probably had better luck explaining yourself, telling him that his command earlier had forced you up here against your better judgment because of course, Vox, sir, you knew that the penthouses were off limits. But your prey brain reverted to instinct, doe ears dropping against your head, and you bolted to the nearest safety- the closet. 

You can hear him coming closer, his voice increasing in volume- “that ancient fucker, thinks he can just come back to my fucking town, in my fucking section like he never- fucking dammit, Bambi, I can’t believe-” He just keeps going and you shuffle further back into the clothing around you, the smell of his soft cologne enveloping you as you descend. You can see light peeking through the slats of the doors, and it vanishes as he quickly approaches. The door flies open and you squeeze your eyes shut, waiting for a sharp clawed hand to land on your arm and haul you out but it never comes.

He grabs something close to you, something soft you had been inadvertently leaning against, and slams the closet door closed again so hard that it swings back open, another crack that light leaks through. Despite your better judgment you lean forward, peek through the slats of the door at what is happening in the room. He throws the item he had grabbed against the bed, and it bounces at an angle so that you can see what it is.

A body pillow- with that guy from the television on it, his red outfit unmistakable even not knowing who he was just from a quick glance. He wears a sly smile on his face, eyes half-lidded over a monocle, a frankly stupid haircut that came to his shoulders with tiny antlers peeking out of it. Vox is still bitching, and this time you catch a name: Alastor. Your boss kicks his shoes off, rips his jacket from his frame, and falls to his knees on the mattress, bringing the pillow close and slotting it between his thighs.

You stop breathing.

He falls forward and braces himself on one hand, the other scrambling at his fly to bring out an impressive erection that you can tell even from this distance must be painful, faintly glowing a bright blue at the tip before fading to the darker shade of his normal skin at the base. He strokes himself once, spreads what looks like a fair amount of precum over his length before he releases his grip and dips his hips into the pillow, now free hand clutching at the fabric between his fingers. 

“Alastor,” he moans, and the low timbre of it shoots straight through your core, thighs clenching together as you stand stockstill in the darkness of the closet. “Oh fuck, Alastor, Al- fuck, fuck,” and his hips are driving into the pillow all the while, the bright tip of his cock occasionally peeking into view from your vantage point. 

You bring a hand up to clamp over your mouth, to try and muffle your breathing as you watch the private act and shift closer to the wider gap in the doors for a better view- slowly, silently. His voice is dark and delicious as he groans into the seemingly empty room, unrestrained in his pleasure. The hand braced on the bed is shredding the sheets, bits of fabric floating up into the air with the force of his claws dragging into them- the one on the pillow is surprisingly gentle, clenched lightly where the hair is on the image of the demon that adorns it.

Your body aches at the apex of your thighs, slick and throbbing just at the sights and sounds before you- if you made it out of this, if Vox didn’t discover and immediately kill you for witnessing this, you were going to have the most phenomenal orgasm of your fucking afterlife the moment you could get yourself alone. You’ve never wanted to be a pillow so badly in all of your existence- Hell, you’ve never wanted to be a pillow period but Vox was making it look downright tantalizing to be shoved between his legs and thrust against. 

He’s still going, his lower body moving rhythmically against the pillow and still muttering under his breath- “Alastor, Alastor, Alastor,” like he’s in a trance, can’t stop himself from saying it. His voice catches in his throat, hips stuttering then stilling while shoved hard against the pillow, collapsing against the mattress with a frustrated groan.

Everything is quiet for a moment, the only sound your muffled breathing against your hand as you peek through the door at the VoxTek CEO. Your spare hand itches for movement at your side, but you refuse- absolutely refuse- to get yourself off in your boss’ closet with him less than five feet away. You fist your fingers in the poofy fabric of the Val-approved maid uniform that the crew was made to wear, and you wait.

When Vox pulls his head up from the mattress, his screen is tinted pink in embarrassment even thinking no one can see him- he looks down at the pillow with such an earnest expression of longing that you feel embarrassed and avert your gaze for a moment, until he scoffs and you look back up to a sight you’re more familiar with. His face is twisted in anger now, and his claws hover menacingly over Alastor’s face before he snarls in disgust- at himself? At the other man?- and clambers off the bed. You watch his body move across the room, lithe muscles flexing as he moves, and only when he exits the room do you heave out the breath you had been holding, taking your hand away from your mouth.

You hear the rushing sound of water that indicates that the shower has been turned on, and you make perhaps the dumbest decision you’ve ever made- you stay in the closet instead of taking these precious few moments of him being out of the room to book it out of the penthouse. You’re not thinking clearly, so preoccupied with the arousal that it wars inside your body with the logical part of your brain saying to get the fuck out. But you’re surrounded by the sweet, heady scent of his cologne, the rough sounds of his groaning still echoing in your ears, and with your eyes slipping closed you slide a hand up under your skirt; you didn’t end up in Hell by sticking to the concept of chastity, after all.

Your free hand fists in the fabric of his shirts that hang next to your face, bringing them closer to breathe in the scent of him. The sounds he made echo in your mind, your fingers brushing lightly against the dampness of your panties, hand dipping inside them to graze your clit-

The closet door flies open, the light falling across your body and illuminating what is clearly a shocking sight to the Overlord if the glitching of his screen is anything to go by- one hand holds the Alastor pillow in a death grip, obviously about to toss it back into the closet after wiping it down with a damp rag (the sink, you realize, not the shower), probably for one of your team members to properly clean later under an oath of secrecy. Your hand is up under your skirt, the other gripping his shirts for dear fucking life, and Satan’s fuck, he was absolutely going to kill you.

You both stand frozen for a moment, still too shocked to move your hands until you see the spark of static cross between his antennae. You let go of his shirts and remove your hand from under your skirt. “Sir,” you start, and your voice cracks on the word. “I’m-” 

“Shut the fuck up,” he snaps, and even without the swirl of his hypnotic eye your jaw clamps closed. He lets the Alastor pillow fall to the ground, both hands free now to open both closet doors, and you close your eyes- this was it, goodbye Hell, nice knowing you. At least you were going out with a hot image burned behind your eyelids of the guy that was going to murder you.

Instead you feel the sensation of your floppy ear being rubbed between two fingers, gentle and inquisitive. When an eye peeks open again, Vox is staring at them, his gaze flicking between your ears to the tiny white spots that line the edges of your face that he can now see with the increased light. “You a deer?” He asks, his tone dark, and you heave a shaky breath.

“Yes, sir.”

He hums, a quiet noise as his other hand comes up to rest softly on your waist. “Didn’t notice earlier. Thought I told the head cleaning bitch I didn’t want any fucking deer in my tower.”

You force yourself to breathe slowly. “I had great recommendations and she said she would just keep me out of your way.”

“Great recommendations, huh? Any of your previous employers know you fucking touch yourself watching people get off in what they assume is the privacy of their own homes?”

Instinct- you try to run rather than face his questions, only getting as far as an abortive jerk forward before both  of his hands are on your hips, pushing you further against the back closet wall. His scent is fucking everywhere, a faint heat coming off his screen with how close it is to your face, and you feel the threat of claws where he grips you. “Please, I’m sorry-”

“This for me?” Vox takes one hand off your waist to grab your hand- the one that had been under your skirt- and moves it back to its prior position, just pressing against the front of your damp panties. “Or was it the fact that you were being a little pervert and I was none the wiser? Tell the truth now, dear,” he says, his eye going black rimmed and swirling, and you’re helpless to answer.

“A bit of both, sir,” you breathe, and he looks pleased at your answer, pressing your fingers harder against the heated skin under your joined hands. The words don’t stop- “I didn’t mean to come here, sir, there was a pillow in your office- and you said everything had to go back where it belonged, so-”

“Gotcha, gotcha,” he nods. “The downsides of hypnotism, huh? But it’s gotten us into an interesting situation- how much of that did you see?” He tilts his head towards the pillow.

Deep breath. “All of it, sir.”

“You must think I’m pretty pathetic now, huh?” 

His eyes still spins lazily at you. “Not at all,” you say, and the pixels of his eyebrows twitch upwards. “I thought it was… alluring. Sexy, to watch you let yourself go like that.” You glance down at the pillow, a grimace taking over your mouth. “Admittedly a little gross that you aren’t like. Properly cleaning that. Were you just going to throw it back into the closet?”

His screen tints and he lets go of you, taking a step back to kick the pillow out of your line of sight. “I have a dry cleaning lady that comes on Saturdays,” he says defensively, “it would have only been in there like two days max.”

“Sir, that’s still kinda-”

He tugs you out of the closet by the wrist and pulls you over to the bed, sitting on the edge and pulling so that you straddle his lap. “You wanna keep calling me gross or do you wanna fuck me?” He grinds your hips down onto his and you feel the hard length of his arousal against you despite it being not more than a few minutes since he had finished with the pillow. 

“Can’t I do both?��

“Cause let me tell you,” he adds, talking over you, not picking up the barb, “the sooner I can get that fucker out of my head, the happier I’ll be as your boss. And a happy boss might not decide to kill or fire you for being a- what’s the lady equivalent of a Peeping Tom? Just a slut?”

“I’m not sure there is one, sir,” you say breathlessly, and his tongue snaking out of his mouth to trail along the length of your neck distracts you from his fingers reaching up under your skirt to slide your panties to the side, thumbing your clit with soft pressure.

“S’nice that you’re a deer,” he murmurs, the tingly sensation of his lips tracing a path down your collar, letting his tongue slip between the swell of your tits, pushed on display in this fucking uniform. “Just like- shit, do you have…?” His other hand comes under your skirt as well, reaches around the back to cup your ass, and at the base of your spine-

“Oh, fuck,” he whispers when he gets a grip on your tail, fingers tightening around it in a way that makes you cry out, high and trembling. “Fuck, I gotta-” He shifts the both of you, a quick motion that ends with you bent over the edge of the mattress while Vox flips your skirt up, exposes the cute fawn spots that covered your ass and thighs, the fluffy nub of your tail above the red lace of your panties.

“Fuckin’ red,” he mutters, mostly to himself, “just like him- what is it with fuckin’ deer and red? Do you all use the same style guide or something?” When you look back, there’s a note that appears on his screen- “ask Vel about deer style magazine?”- before he sees you watching and grins. “Might wanna hold onto something, doll,” he advises, and before you can ask him why his face is pressed against your rear, tongue slipping between the slick folds of your cunt and diving in.

The shock of it makes you yelp, immediately devolving into a moan that’s lost in the sheets when you bury your face into them. The slick muscle is long and strong, reaching deep and flicking against your inner walls with a fervor you’ve never had from a partner before. You try to grind your hips against the bed, the motion aborted when Vox’s large hands come up to your waist and hold you in place so he can lick into your pussy more efficiently, keeping you firmly against his screen. He moans at the taste of you and keeps you still with one hand, the other coming down to rub forcefully at your clit. You groan into the sheets, fingers fisting in the fabric and fuck, fucking finally,  pressure and friction where you wanted it. “Vox, sir, please,” you whine into the mattress, and he moans against you, the vibration of it from his screen adding a nice edge to the pleasure. “Please, please, please-”

Tongue still inside of you, you can hear his voice, broadcast from the speakers on his head- “I’m not sure you get to beg for anything, baby,” he says, and his tone drips sarcasm and amusement. “I could leave you high and dry and I would be well within my fucking rights- maybe I decide that perverts don’t get to cum.” His tongue starts to draw back, and when your walls clench down on him in protest he fucking laughs. “I guess fucking any deer will do, though- helps that you’re fucking cute, even if you don’t really look like-”

Like him. Like Alastor. It should have been insulting, and maybe a little terrifying that possibly the only thing keeping you from having been murdered on the spot when he opened that closet was that you were a fucking deer.

Logic had no place in your body right now, though; you’d been aroused for the better part of Satan only knew how long, and you would take what you could get. Maybe if you were lucky he would just fire you after he fucked you stupid. “Please,” you ask him again, not caring if you sound pathetic about it, and he does pull off your pussy now, leaves your soaked entrance clenching down on nothing. “Fuck, sir, please-” 

He chuckles and you hear the clinking of his belt behind you, loud in the quiet of his room that’s interrupted only by your soft moans into the mattress. “Don’t worry, Bambi,” he said, using the nickname for Alastor that he had spit in anger when he first came into the room. “I’ll give it to you- give it to you real fucking good.” His hand reaches above your head and grabs the pillow that had led you in here like a lamb to the slaughter, shifts your hips up enough to shove it under them while pressing against your back. You feel the hard line of his cock against your ass and resist the urge to grind back onto it, staying put until he decides to move.

“Ohh, look at that! That’s fucking cute,” he says, and there’s a hard grip on your tail, making you aware of the faint shakiness to the appendage in his grasp. “All twitchy and needy- you always get like this when you want a cock in you?”

Your response is a drawn out whine when he finally pushes in, and fuck- seeing it glow faintly against the pillow while he rutted to completion couldn’t have prepared you for having his cock inside of you, filling your cunt perfectly and still fucking going. Vox presses in slowly, methodically, until he’s buried balls deep and breathing heavily against your back. “Fuuuccckkk,” he groans, and the rumble of it through his chest makes your inner walls spasm around the hard length of him. “Oh fuck, baby, do that again,” he encourages, a hand squeezing at your tail, and what are you supposed to do? Not listen to him? You clench down and he chuckles, low and dangerous, and there are lips nipping at your skin where the shirt of your uniform leaves you exposed. “God fucking damn, Bambi, you’re just-” He pulls back, the drag of his dick inside of you leaving sparks of pleasure that burn behind your eyelids, and shoves back in, the tip of him bumping something soft and sweet inside you that makes the evidence of your arousal drip from where you’re connected. He sets a steady pace, and you wish you could fucking see him- watch him use your body for his pleasure like he had used the pillow, mindless with it, bucking his hips with reckless abandon.

A hand wraps around your throat, gently at first before the feeling of it makes you moan and he tightens his grip, thumb coming up to brush against your lips and smearing the drool that he finds there, having fallen unbidden from your mouth as you panted with your mouth open while he fucked you. “Making a mess of my sheets, huh? I like the sound of that- fucking the drool out of you while I fuck my cum into you-”

The keening cry you try to let out at that is garbled and broken with his hand squeezing your throat, the other still having a grand old time pulling on your tail, and fuck, you think you could cum just like this. “V-Vox, sir,” you manage to get out with the pressure on the sides of your neck, “please, gonna-”

“Gonna cum, baby?” He lets go of your throat and you fall forward onto the mattress, face burying in the sheets again and muffling your sounds- he brings his fingers to your clit to circle it while he fucks you, still pulling your tail, and everything inside of you feels like its tensing and electrified around your cunt where you’re stuffed full of him. “Come on, show me how- how fucking sorry  you are for getting caught with your hand down your panties.” He brings his face down next to yours, teeth snapping in your ear and licking up the side of your face at the tears that have leaked out. “Wanna fucking call me gross now, Bambi? When you’re about to cum on my cock like a goddamn slut- fuck, so close, it’s almost fucking perfect-”

Static sparks off his antennae, and you can almost feel the thrum of electricity though his body before it ends at his finger tips, shocking both your clit and the sensitive skin of your tail where he still holds it in a death grip- that’s all it takes for you to almost scream with your orgasm and drag him over the edge with you, a soft grunt of “Alastor, fuck, Al-” as he spends himself in long, hot pulses inside of you. Static still tingles lightly at his fingertips, causing tiny jolts of pleasure that make your muscles twitch and your walls flutter around Vox’s cock, drawing your release out until you’re almost overstimulated, trying to shift your hips out from under his body.

The hand on your tail tightens in warning. “Stay the fuck still for a sec,” he mumbles, and he presses his face against your back- you can feel the heat of it through your shirt. “Just fucking- came twice in the span of thirty minutes, let me catch my goddamn breath before you try to go again.”

“That’s not-” He presses hard against your clit and your body jerks in his hold. “Not helping,” you finish feebly, and he laughs against your flank before he lets go of your body and pushes back, pulling out with a loud, wet noise that brings a flaming blush to your face. “And not what I was trying to do.”

There’s a shuffle of movement and then the bed dips in front of you- you raise your head up from the mattress to see Vox eagle-spread across the sheets, his chest heaving. “No, you were just trying to get off in my closet after watching me fuck a pillow like a fucking loser. Not sure if that reflects worse on you or me.”

You flush, and prop yourself up on your elbows to watch him- he didn’t seem like he was as angry now, less likely to murder you probably. “It’s not great for either of us, but probably a little worse for me.” You take a deep breath, tense despite the orgasm that made your bones feel like goo. “I… I don’t think you’re going to kill me now? But I do understand if you would still like to fire me, sir- this was… lovely, but I was still unprofessional, and-”

“God, just- shut up, damn, is that also a deer thing? Never being able to stop talking? I’m not gonna fucking fire you.” He throws an arm over his screen, his internal fans whirring and blowing hot air across your face. “Are you any good at your job or do you hide in closets on a regular basis?”

“First time transgression, sir.” He chuckles, and you shift a little bit higher up. “Besides- you know, this, I do a good job.”

He hums, turning on his side to look at you- or more specifically, to look at the valley between your breasts where they’re pushed up from your position on your elbows. “Fuck,” he mutters, then actually meets your eye. “Can you get a cum stain out of a pillow?”

You resist the urge to laugh. “I can do more than just wipe it down with a damp cloth and throw it in the closet to sit for two days.”

“Oh, fuck you,” he says, his screen tinting pink, but he doesn’t actually seem upset about it. “It would have gotten cleaned eventually. The point is- you’ve already seen it, I don’t think there’s any reason why anyone else needs to.”

“Your dry cleaning woman hasn’t seen it before?”

“What, you think I make a fucking habit of this?” He sits up, crossing his legs on the bed to turn and look down at you. “First time transgression, doll. Fuckin’ Val bought me that thing as a joke a few years ago, I forgot about it entirely until he came back, and all this fucking tension came along with it that I obviously couldn’t do anything about with him. No one else has seen it, no one else- no one else knows.”

“I can keep a secret,” you find yourself saying. “And yes, I can get a stain out of a pillow like that.”

His eyebrow quirks up. “I’ll take your word,” Vox says. “Tell you what- you work your magic on that fucking thing, we toss it back into the closet- properly cleaned this time- and we can discuss some kind of arrangement between the two of us. A personal contract with me, instead of the collective like everybody else. You won’t have to wear that uniform anymore,” he adds, “but I can’t say one that I come up with would be any better. I’d keep that cute tail on display though.”

“Sounds like a plan.” You stand from the bed and enjoy the way that his eyes trail down your body, even if they do hover a little longer on your ears. “Do you keep any hydrogen peroxide in the apartment?” He blinks at you. “Bleach? Rubbing alcohol? Fuck, baking soda and vinegar?”

“I’m the CEO, what the fuck do I need any of those things for? Everything I need other people will do for me.”

“God damn it- okay then, you wait here and try to keep your hands off the pillow- I’ll be back.” With a grin rivaling the one on the soiled cushion's image you turn your back to the still grumbling demon. You couldn’t believe your luck - not only had Vox not killed you but you got a good fuck and the promise of some sort of a promotion out of the situation as well. With newfound confidence, you flipped your skirt up and wagged your tail at him before you disappeared through the door to look for the necessary supplies, chuckling to yourself as you heard the grumbling turn into a needy groan.

[taegularities]

regarding: colour me in — alright. almost 8 months later… they're coming back 🥹 that's how long it's been since a main chapter dropped? crazy. but cmi12 is (nearly) done and ready 🎨🤍

dropping next Friday, August 2nd, 8pm EST! might shift to Saturday in case i need more time to edit.

the chapter's name is cmi: palette; and palette will be around 32k long (sorry? you're welcome? idk lmao) :D you can of course take your time to read it, but i promise it'll be worth it <3

lots and lots of glimpses into our babies' and their friends' lives!! it's a beautiful chapter that then leads to deeper aspects of their relationship.

this chapter is already part of the new arc, which means we'll see a whole new side of all the characters. there'll be fluff, but there will also be angst, hardships and tears. partly heavier, partly lovelier than before. we'll go on a whole journey with them before this lil story comes to an end <3

also! i have decided on how many parts this series has left, but this could change anytime 🤧

maybe you saw already, but i've been struggling with colour me in. not because i don't love the story — it's my everything. but because the site has gotten quieter — so i'll need you all in for this one to get to the story's end eventually. i wish i could read thoughts, but i can't so pls lmk how you feel about this 🥺

i often get very nervous about my fics and i still am this time, as well, but i'm confident you'll like this part 💕 so give it all your love; a little support always goes super far. cmi is nothing without y'all and i live for your cheers. that said, see you soon 🤍

snippet under the cut! 🌺

–

🎨 let's talk about it | join the taglist 🎨

love you all <3

[tlbodine]

Stuck? Try junebugging.

I don't know who needs to hear this, but we're 5 days into nanowrimo so maybe this will be helpful.

Do you want the safety and surety of knowing what happens next in your story but can't stick to an outline? Does knowing in advance what will happen suck the joy out of discovery writing? Do you try to wing it through plots but get tangled in plot holes or have a story that runs out of steam because you can't figure out what went wrong? Are you at your most creative when you have a little bit of guidance? Do you tend to under-write? Do you get ideas in your head for random scenes and snippets that drop from the sky without context?

If any of these apply to you, junebugging a draft might be for you!

What Is Junebugging?

Since you're on Tumblr, you might already be familiar with the concept of junebugging as it relates to cleaning. If not -- I think the idea was first introduced to me by @jumpingjacktrash.

The basic idea is that you tackle cleaning by way of controlled chaos. You pick a specific area you want to focus on, like your kitchen sink, and then wander off to deal with other things as they occur to you, but always returning back to that area. You end up cleaning a little bit at a time in an order that may not make sense to an outsider but which keeps you from getting overwhelmed and discouraged.

How Does Junebugging Work in Writing?

OK, so that's great, but how does this work with writing? Well. In my case, the general idea is to jump between writing linearly, outlining, and writing out of order. It usually looks something like:

Start free-writing a scene, feeling my way through it and enjoying the discovery process.

Thinking, ok, now I have this scene, did anything need to happen to lead up to it? Do I need to go back and add some foreshadowing? Does this scene set anything up that needs to be paid off? And then jump forward/back to make those adjustments.

I'll usually have a bunch of disconnected ideas of ideas that have popped into my head, so I'll write those down in a list somewhere and then try to figure out what goes in between them and what order it goes in.

I'll write what I call "micro-scenes" which is where I'll just sketch out a few essential elements of what's going on without worrying too much about details, description, etc. -- just he did this, she said that, the setting was this, real bare-bones script. Then I can come back through and flesh out each of those microscenes into an actual scene later.

Got a story that has a complex structure? No problem. Write through each storyline one at a time and then chop them up and weave them together afterward. Write all the B plot scenes first then come back through to do A plot and C plot. Move the pieces around like legos. No one ever has to know.

This method works for me because I can't "decide" story elements in advance. I have never been able to just sit down and "figure out" what happens in a story beyond a couple steps ahead -- I have to discovery-write my way forward. But at the same time, that gets really daunting. So I zoom forward with micro-scenes, roughing out the beats in the most bare-bones way possible, then when I run out of clear vision for what happens next I backtrack, flesh out those scenes, build in connective tissue, etc. and by then I will probably find more inspiration to jump forward.

It's basically folding drafting, outlining, and revising all together into a single phase of writing, which is chaotic and goes against everything people teach you, but if it works? then it fuckin works.

Anyway, sorry for the jumbled-up post, I'm dashing this off quickly while I heat up a pizza and I'm about to dive back into my WIP -- but I hope this was a little helpful. If nothing else, take this as my blanket permission that it's 100% OK to jump around, write out of order, write messy, outline sometimes, pants sometimes, and do whatever else it takes just to get through the story. You've got this. Good luck.

[overtake]

This is a super short (550-ish words) snippet from the maxiel hockey au I got 30k into before life got in the way. I’ll probably never finish it, so have this random scene. For context, Daniel is staying at Max’s home because he has an ankle injury and the only bedroom at his own place had stairs.

Daniel hears Max before he sees him. Based on the frantic pounding down the stairs, you’d think Max was being chased by a fucking murderer.

“Daniel,” the shadowy figure in Daniel’s doorframe says in a shaky, frantic voice. Daniel hasn’t kept his door shut since the cats first started scratching at it and demanding to be let in, and he briefly wonders in the recesses of his sleep-addled mind if Max has ever Edward from Twilighted him and just watched him sleep.

“Hmmph?” Daniel manages. His brain is thick and sluggish through the foggy, sleep haze surrounding it. He tries to prop himself up on one elbow and immediately fails.

“There’s a spider in my room,” Max hisses, as if he’s scared the spider might somehow hear him and immediately attack. “Can you come kill it?”

“I am not walking up stairs right now,” Daniel groans. It was a brutal PT session, and he spent half his afternoon with his ankle wrapped in ice and elevated. Plus, he’s not exactly fond of spiders either.

“I can’t sleep in there,” Max says, and Daniel wants so badly to make fun of him, but there’s an edge of real panic in his voice. Also, Daniel is even more scared of far more embarrassing shit, so he’d never win.

“Stay in here,” Daniel says, reaching an arm behind him to flop at the empty space. “Plenty of room.”

Max only hesitates for a second before crawling in. “Are you sure?” he asks, like he isn’t already sticking his cold toes against Daniel for warmth.

“The terrors will probably kill the spider by morning for us,” Daniel says, letting his head drop back onto his pillow.

“Jimmy and Sassy are not terrors. It’s not nice how you talk about them,” Max says primly as a crash echoes from somewhere upstairs. Daniel doesn’t dignify him with a response.

He feels Max’s weight settle behind him, and a hand reaches out as his eyes drift back shut and lightly caresses his exposed shoulder. “Thank you, Daniel.”

In the morning, Daniel wakes up to find Max curled in a ball around a pillow he somehow stole from under Daniel’s head, quietly letting out cute little snores. Sassy is lying content on the floor nearby with half a dead spider dangling out her mouth.

“That’s your problem to collect and throw away,” he tells a sleeping Max. He’s got freckles on his shoulders, Daniel notices, a whole constellation of them decorating the broad, pale canvas.

He fights the urge to trace the space between them and instead collects Max’s morning Red Bull from the fridge. He leaves it to drip condensation on the bedside table closest to Max’s pillow-creased face, next to a little note that Daniel is out for his morning walk.

Max texts him twenty minutes in to his stroll.

Max Verstappen: thanks for the red bull. okay if i stay again if we don’t find the spider? It was huge.

Daniel gnaws at his cuticle, contemplating his response for half a second. It’s not like he has proof that spider was the one Max saw. Sassy probably got rid of the evidence, so he can’t ask. He doesn’t want to make Max sleep in a room that makes him anxious.

Daniel Ricciardo: Of course. Better to be safe. That spider could be deadly.

Max Verstappen: Need your Australian powers to scare it off

Daniel Ricciardo: 🤺🤺🤺

When he opens the kitchen bin later that day, he sees the body of the spider sitting on the top.

“Crazy girl. You learned how to open the bin,” he coos to Sassy, aiming for a head scratch she runs away from and pretending he doesn’t see the very human tissue wrapped around the remains.

[biolumien]

palette

hajime umemiya x graffiti artist!reader only a little snippet, but it might become bigger later, word count: 899

you were at home right here with the collection of paint markers and aerosol cans at your feet. your free hand adjusted the filtration mask on your face as you sprayed a nonsensical pattern onto the wall using a fluorescent green so bright it almost hurt your eyes. as you began to draw on the concrete wall using a black paint marker, you felt the sneaking suspicion that eyes were on you. 

that was odd. 

you did most—hell, all your graffiti work in the dark of night, hidden from sight. you’d been chased off by a few townsfolk when you were tagging signs or walls in broad daylight, which you supposed was fair. you were technically doing something utterly illegal, after all. but you kept at it at night, painting flowers and animals, or just random letters onto whatever surface you could. 

bofurin boys often covered it up—as was their right, too, you supposed, but it always irritated you when you’d come back around and find work you’d slaved on all night be covered up with a fresh layer of white paint. 

but back to the feeling that you were being watched. 

“who’s there?” you call out, pulling off your filtration mask slightly. 

“so you’re the one doin’ all those green tags!” a boisterous voice said, and you felt a sudden presence right behind you. you whirled around, dropping your black paint marker across the floor, wincing as it skittered across the alleyway. “did you know that this taiyaki place has called us every day for a week about the graffiti?” 

fuck. you did know that voice. hajime-fuckin’-umemiya, leader of the bofurin, who had essentially annexed and reformed furin high school by force. not only were they vigilante heroes of justice—they also practically were civil servants that served the community—and now their fucking leader was staring at you with a strange, open look in his eye. 

he wasn’t even dressed in his furin uniform—you think you’ve seen it a few times, the whistling long coat that he wore out on patrols with some of the other furin boys. despite it all, he somehow had that sort of aura of warm authority about him—paired with a brilliant and curious smile on his face.

“so what?” you ask defensively. 

“you do know the graffiti’s illegal, right?” umemiya questioned, raising an eyebrow as he walked over to where your marker had skittered across the floor, picking it up. “you could be put in jail for up to five years, you know!” he flipped the marker around, holding it out to you. 

“like i need someone from furin lecturing me about that,” you say, taking the marker back from him. umemiya seemed to deflate a little, almost like a sad puppy, upon your very subtle furin insult, so you hastily add a, “no offense.” 

“mm. i get it, i get it! i do. all the work i did to rehabilitate bofurin’s image doesn’t mean much when people remember how dangerous it was before,” umemiya says sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck. “but! i figured i’d come around the taiyaki shop at night, see if there was some repeat offender doing the graffiti, and here you are!” 

umemiya spreads his hands magnanimously, and you can see how worn and callused his hands are from years spent brawling against other students. there was no way he was going to start fighting you, right—?

“i just wanted to ask you to stop,” umemiya says. “i mean, i respect your artistic visions! i always thought it was a waste to paint over your works—i remember one time you did this bright yellow rabbit on a blue moon, very cool, by the way—and—“

huh?

“i really like your art! i was wondering, if maybe…”

you held your paint marker, watching umemiya seemingly steeling his nerves for a moment–

“do you want to come to furin and paint? there’s a lot of graffiti already, and most of the time when we patrol we never use the classrooms anyway, so if it was anonymity you were worried about, that’s covered—and plus, at night, you’d still get a lot of time to do whatever you want—”

“… you’re offering me a place at your school to just—paint?” you ask confusedly, raising an eyebrow. 

“well, yeah!” umemiya says. “i mean, it’s a waste to paint over your hard work, right? it’s different than the other tags.”

“... is it?” you ask, staring at your half-finished graffiti, joining other fresh tags on the wall. 

“well, i’m not really sure if i fully believe in the idea that art carries intention–but i’d like to think yours does! and it’s kind. and i think there’s people at furin who might appreciate it.” 

“well…”

you sigh, running a hand through your hair.

“well, okay,” you say. “but if anyone tries to start something–”

“please,” umemiya says. “we’re not animals. it’ll be great to have you.” and then he holds out his hand to shake, and you stare down at it.

are you really doing this?

umemiya’s expression is bright, warm. 

you shake his hand. 

his grip is firm, his thumb squeezing the space between your index and thumb–and you laugh with a hint of exasperation in your voice. here you were, pulled right into umemiya’s thrall–lured in by him like a sweet siren song.

“fine. see you tomorrow, then,” you mutter, your cheeks heating up.

[outsideratheart]

Meant to be - snippet (Alexia Putellas x reader)

A/N: this is only the first part of this fic which could be read as a stand alone fic or prequel to Birthdays in Bed. There is more, I promise.

Life has a funny way of giving you the thing you wanted most exactly when you needed it. Sometimes you think it isn’t meant for you, only for it to happen a few months later. 

Both you and Alexia were emotionally exhausted after going through 4 rounds of IVF. The first time didn’t take which you knew was a possibility but the fourth, that one was successful. As Christmas morning came around you watched as Alexia handed out Eli and Alba two very different presents that held the same meaning. They both welled up upon realising what it was you were telling them.

It was happiest time of your lives but only a couple a weeks later, a few days into the new year something felt wrong. You woke up in the middle of the night with sharp pains in your lower abdomen. When you pulled back the bedsheet and saw the red stains you knew exactly what was happening. Alexia woke up just as you got out of bed and saw you go into the en-suite. When she saw the cause of your awakening she jumped out of bed and ran to you.

It was a tough couple of months that followed. The team hadn’t been told that you were expecting so at least training was like normal, that was about the only place. You and Alexia were grieving the loss of your child and it was starting to take its toll. You had a decision to make. Do you try again or take a break to process the loss. In the end you agreed to try once more and if that one didn’t take then you would take a break until the summer where you would try another round.

“Are you ready?” Alexia stood in front of you in your bedroom with the test in her hand. You had sent her into the bathroom to get it as you were too nervous.

You nod your head. That told her yes but that wasn’t was you were feeling. You weren’t ready and that’s because you didn’t know if you want it to be positive or negative. The miscarriage affected you mentally more than you could have imagined.

Alexia looked down and whilst you tried to remain stoic, you saw her features drop a little bit and that told you all you needed to know.

“It’s negative, isn’t it?” You hold your hands out for her to take. She joins you on the bed and rests her head on your shoulder.

“Why is the universe so against us starting a family?” Your wife asked in defeat “We are good people”

“You, my love, are the amongst the very best people” you softly kiss her hairline “This is something that is out of our control. I have put a lot of stress on my body over the years may—“

“No!” Alexia’s head snapped up “You won’t blame yourself for this”

Alexia knew that you blamed yourself for the loss of your unborn child and whilst you promised you were doing better, she knew deep down the guilt was still there.

“I was going to say that it’s because of this stress that it might take a little bit longer than we hoped. Let’s face it, we are not the most patient people in the world”

The woman beside you chuckled as she fell backwards so she is now laying on the bed.

“We will have a family Alexia. It will happen when it is suppose to happen” 

“How do you know that?” 

“I don’t but I refuse to believe the alternative. Now, go shower because we have training in a hour and you know we can’t be late”

It was true. Every training session was crucial at the minute. The team were only a couple of games away from winning the league, the Champions League final was at the end of May and the Copa de La Reina semi final and final was at the beginning of June. It was a busy time for Barcelona and truth be told it was a welcomed distraction for the both of you.

Before you knew it you were playing in the Copa de La Reina final having won the league and the champions league within the span of a month. It was a final again Atleti, your favourite fixture of the season. You got to play against some of your best friends and it was always a good game.

“Once last game. What do you say? Shall we have some fun?” You nudge Alexia as you exit the locker room for the warms up.

“And dinner afterwards” Alexia suggested.

“You do realise that if we win then the whole team will be going on out dinner” you teased.

“I’ll take that as a yes” Alexia kisses you on your lips, leaving you in shock. Never had she done that before a game and not out in the open, not that you were complaining.

You ran your fingers over your lips as you savour the feeling of your wife’s lips on yours. There was something going on with Alexia. She was untouchable on the pitch and she played you ball after ball. Lola did a very good job at keeping your shots out of the net but some she stood no change at stopping. Going in to the final minutes it was 3-2 to Barcelona.

You were through on goal and it was only going to end one way. You felt so confident in the shot you had planned that you were already planning your celebration in your head. Only you never got the chance to fulfil it as you felt the full force of a pair of studs connect with your ankle and you heard something snap. Carmen was by your side immediately.

“Y/N! Y/N!”” Lola joined her followed by Alexia a couple of seconds later. Your wife didn’t push the defender out the way as she knew the tackle wasn’t on purpose. She simple went to your other side but not before looking at your ankle which was clearly broken.

It was bad. You knew this so you didn’t argue when the stretcher came onto the pitch. You were strangely calm as you talked to the physios and the players around you.

“Ale, please come with me to the hospital? I can’t go there alone not after last time” 

Staying and playing out the final seconds was never even a thought in Alexia’s mind. She knew the moment you were referring to and whilst you would be going to a different part of the hospital, she wouldn’t let you go alone.

A couple of hours later you were laid in a hospital room. Alexia was by your side as you both wait for the x-ray results. You knew they had to take them but you didn’t need a medical degree to know that you broke you ankle, it was a clean break and you knew that you would be out for an extended period of time.

It felt as is every five minutes three more footballers joined you in your room. You were pretty sure this many visitors weren’t allowed but you also know that the nurse was a fan which explains the leniency.

When the doctor came in there was enough football players to have a starting 11 and some subs. The older man laughed as he scanned the room. 

“I have your results. Miss Y/L/N—“

“It’s Putellas-Y/L/N” Alexia hated it when people called you by your maiden name even though the two of you never officially announced you were married.

“My apologies. Miss Putellas-Y/L/N” The doctor sent Alexia smile who nodded whilst smiling herself “as I was saying, I have your results. I think it’s best to talk to you in private. Your wife can stay of course”

Up until now you had remained in high spirits having already accepted your fate but the doctor words dampened those spirits entirely. 

“Is something wrong?” Alexia asked as she squeezed your hand three times.

“Not necessarily”

You told your friends that it was ok to leave and the doctor promised to come and get them once the results had been discussed.

The atmosphere in the room did a complete 180 as you and Alexia waited for the doctor to speak. 

“She has broken her ankle, no?” Alexia’s patience grows thin.

“Yes, let’s start with that” he says which confuses you and Alexia “You ankle is broken. It was a clean break but is a bad one. We are going to take you into surgery in the morning”

“No, you do it now. She is a professional athlete. She is a priority”

The doctor looked at you for help.

“Alexia, let the man speak. I’m sure there is a reason for the delay in surgery. There is a reason, right?” 

“There is a reason. It is part of procedure to take blood tests when a patient gets admitted. Y/N,” the man donning a white coat moves closer to you “Have you been trying to start a family?” 

This was private information. Information that you and alexia didn’t feel comfortable discussing with a stranger, nor were you ready to talk about it.

“We were. Did that play a part in the break? Did the hormones I’m taking weaken my body?” 

The doctor looks at you, over to the Alexia and then back to you.

“You’re pregnant. Rather far along actually”

You were rendered speechless. How is this possible? The text was negative and you haven’t tried since. There was no way you were pregnant. Alexia must share the same disbelief because she explains this to the doctor. He confirms again that you are indeed pregnant and that the hospital tests are much more accurate that the ones you take at home.

“You’re 9 weeks along. I have a nurse ready to give you an ultra sound if that is something you would like or we can schedule it for the moment when things are a little bit quieter” he laughs as he dips his head to the door, a reminder that your friends are outside.

“Are you sure?” Alexia asks still not believing what she is hearing.

“100%” and with that the doctor left you and your wife alone to proceed what he has just told you.

[samandcolbyownme]

another one of my fav things u write is when the chat goes crazy so I was wondering if u could do one where y/n and Sam haven’t done a video in a while and the fans create rumors saying that they aren’t friends anymore but they’re secretly saying and Sam surprises the viewers on his live with reader and the chat goes crazy I love when u include that k byeee

I Found Her | Sam Golbach

Warnings: fluff, swearing, slight sexual innuendos, secret relationship (kept from fanbase), rumors about reader

I’m classifying this as a snippet for now.

“Sam.”

“Yeah, baby?” He looks up from his laptop as you walk down the steps, “Did you know that we aren’t friends anymore?”

“I mean..” he turns to look back at you, “Yeah, I kind of did know that.” He chuckles and you walk around to sit on the couch next to him, “Well yeah, but I mean.. here.”

You rest your head on his shoulder and he gives the top a kiss as you smile, “Here.” You hand him your phone, “There’s a thread on this one.”

You reach over, tapping the comment to drop more down, “Then I’ll show you the other comment section on TikTok.”

User1: Has she posted anywhere recently?

User2: right! It’s been almost three months

User3: Has Sam posted anything with her? Commented on anything?

User4: maybe she moved back home? Her and Sam might have split?

User5: @/user4: her and Sam were NEVER together! She’s an old friend from their childhood! Stop spreading false information!

User6: Literally stop. I’m sure y/n is fine!

He nods as he reads down over them, “They have no idea.” He looks over at you, “Is it because you M.I.A on them?”

“Probably. I just deleted the apps off my phone once we started getting, closer, you know.. I wanted to put my all into this, so I figured a social media break would be good.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to anyone. You know that right? You do what you need to do in order to make yourself happy.” Sam leans in, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “Because they clearly have no idea what they’re talking about.”

You press a kiss to his lips, “As long as I have you, I should be set on happiness.” You smile and he kisses you again, “Maybe we should just come clean.”

“You want to tell them?” You ask as you raise your brows.

“Only if you want to.” Sam whispers, tucking hair behind your ear as you nod, “I need to start posting again anyway.” You let out a sigh, “Okay. How do you want to do it?”

Sam smirks, “I have an idea.”

“Oh no.” You laugh, “Should I be scared?”

He shakes his head, “Just go up and hang out in my room. I’m going to go live. Is Colby awake?” You stand up and shrug, “Not sure, I did hear anything before I came down.”

He nods and stands up, “Okay.” His hands slide up your arms, “Are you sure about this? If you’re not co-“

“I want to be able to kiss you in public and hold your hand. I’m sure about this, baby.” You look up at him and he smiles, “Okay. Now go.”

You nod and walk over to the steps, looking back to see he’s staring at you shaking his head.

“What?” You stop, tuning towards him as you laugh slightly and he shakes his head, “I just.. cannot believe you are mine.”

You smile harder, feeling your cheeks heat up as you finish your way up the steps. You go into the room you share with Sam, sitting on the bed as you wait for whatever’s about to happen, to happen.

A few minutes later, you see a notification on your phone.

[y/n.y/l/n]: samgolbach started a live video. Watch it before it ends!

“Oh my god.” You look at the door, then back to your phone, then one more back and fourth before you get up and walk out of the room.

You sit down on the floor, listening as you hear Sam start, “What’s up everybody? Hello hello.” He pauses, “Just going to wait for a couple more people to drop in before we get started.”

You knew the comments were insane. Sam hasn’t done a solo live in so long.

“Fuck it.” You get up, walking back in and you click on the notification, popping in while Sam is mid sentence, “.. on here and give you guys a little update about Colby and I’s travels lately.”

He smiles when he sees your name pop up, but he tries to not make it a big deal, “So we flew in from Italy, I think it was two days ago now? But that was amazing. That video will be out soon.”

While Sam is talking, you can’t help but stay focused on the comments, scrolling at you read. At first it was comments about Sam and Colby and their videos and stuff, but as soon as you joined, the focus was practically almost turned, which is what Sam wanted.

InstaUser1: WAIT WAIT Y/N DID I SEE THAT CORRECTLY!?

InstaUser2: Can’t wait for the video Sam!!

InstaUser3: @/InstaUser1 I SAW IT TOO!

InstaUser4: wait wait wait y/n is here?

InstaUser5: Sam! Please just tell us if y/n is okay!

“Y/n is okay. We’re still on good terms, I promise.” He glances at the camera, “Yeah, I see everything.” He laughs, shaking his head, “No she’s doing good.”

You laugh slightly, glancing back down to the comments.

InstaUser6: NO what do you MEAN you see everything Samuel?

InstaUser7: PLEASE GOD NO Sam don’t lurk you’ll regret it, just ask Matt Sturniolo

“Colby is sleeping still. I think he’s coming down with something, which means I’ll probably get it.”

“And I’ll end up getting it.” You mumble to yourself.

InstaUser8: Can you tell us where y/n is? Like did she go back home?

InstaUser9: Why did she ghost us? You’re a GHOST HUNTER, Sam! Please help us out!

“I need to go get Colby up anyway. We have a dinner tonight and I haaaate waking his ass up.”

Your heart starts racing as you see Sam walking in the live, “Oh fuck.” You shift around, leaning back against the headboard as you try to look relaxed and like you aren’t panicking on the inside.

You knew he had to get Colby up, but you knew he had unfinished business that he had to attend to first, “Here guys.” He flips the camera around and you watch the screen intently as he reaches for the knob, “Say hi to Colby.”

He pushes open the door and you’re suddenly watching yourself on your phone screen, “Just kidding. It’s y/n! I found her!”

You turn your head from your phone to look at Sam, “You found me!”

“Ghost Hunter Sam strikes again.” Sam says as he walks over to sit on the bed. You laugh, looking back down at the comments.

InstaUser1: I KNEW IT I KNEW IT I KNEW IT

InstaUser8: Oh my god this is so much better

InstaUser10: PLEASE WHAT IS HAPPENING

You lean over, resting your head on Sam’s shoulder, “I took some sudden time off because, well.. something sudden, but not so sudden happened and I just wanted to give it my all, you know?”

Your eyes scan down as the comments flood through on Sam’s screen.

InstaUser11: PLEASE BE TOGETHER.

InstaUser12: IM SOBBING WHAT

InstaUser13: MY TWO FAV PEOPLE WHAT IS GOING ON I-

You laugh, “I guess we should just-“ Sam cuts you off with a kiss and you lay your hand on his cheek, smiling as he pulls away.

“That’s my girlfriend.” Sam laughs as he rests his forehead against your temple, “Alright guys.” He turns his head, keeping it against yours, “I’ll see you all in the next one. I gotta go wake up Colby. Love you all. Catch ya later.”

You smile as Sam ends the live and then he suddenly turn, lunging to push you back onto the bed, “You can come to dinner with us tonight.”

“I sure can, boyfriend.” You scrunch your nose up as you smile and he leans in, “I love you, y/n.”

Your heart skips a beat and you bring your hand up to lay on his neck, “I love you, Sam.” He presses a few kisses to your face before attacking your lips.

He leans back with a sigh, “Wanna help me get Colby up?” You purse your lips together and shake your head, “I have to start getting ready.”

He rolls his eyes before smiling, “Fine, I’ll let it slide.” You go to get up but he stops you, “This time.” You laugh and shake your head, “Mhm. I’m sure I’ll hear that next time, too.”

“Yeah.” Sam nods, “You probably will.” His eyes scan over your body, “So which dress are you wearing?” You bite down on your lip as you glance over at him, “One that’s easy for you to take off of me once we’re back here.”

“Fuck, I love you.”

——

Thank you so much for reading!! I love you all so much!

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[newtonsheffield]

I cannot stop thinking about 5 years later Kanthony. Please can I beseech a snippet of those second chance clowns??

Think about how confused Kate would be feeling. She’s arrived and she was already dreading Anthony, well aware that the feelings she assured him would fade actually never did. She thought maybe he’d have lost the boyish air in his smile or it wouldn’t matter anyway because he’d most certainly have married someone else. But he hasn’t. He’s a confirmed bachelor, instead. And the very first thing he does is ask her to dance.

Her entire body prickled with the awareness of his When he lead her in the waltz and then he insisted on being allowed to call on her the next morning and she still doesn’t know why. The last time they’d danced together she’d wanted to beg him to ask her to stay. But she hadn’t. And he hadn’t asked so what possible reason would he have for wanting to see her again.

“Unusual.”

Kate shrugged at her sister’s mused comment, trying to ignore the pointed stares as Lord Bridgerton strode away from her and straight out the door of the ballroom. “Perhaps he had some sort of… business to attend to.”

“Not that.” Edwina rolled her eyes, “I’ve just not seen him dance at one of these things since… well, I think the last person he danced with was you.”

Kate’s stomach dropped. “I’m sure you’re mistaken.”

“Perhaps, but I think not.” Edwina nudged her, teasing, “He’s still very handsome.”

“He’s still very vexing.”

“We’ll see.”

She hardly knows what to do, sat beside Anthony on the sofa with her mother and sister staring at her.

Anthony had stood as she’d entered the room, not thought to expect him so early. He’d inclined his head in a small bow, holding out an enormous bouquet of tulips.

“Miss Sharma. Good morning, I hope I find you well.”

“You do, my Lord.”

He was still holding out the flowers. “Might I… ask you to… accept my gift?”

“I- yes. I suppose I could do that.”

His eyes shone at her. “I can see that our time apart has rendered you no less forthright.”

“Should I be less forthright?”

“Not with me, surely.”

It’s still so confusing when he leaves after he’s asked her question after question about her life. Asked her about her Favourite things in India, and the things she’ll miss this season and he inclines his head.

“I thought I heard your mother mention, that you were to attend my mother’s party this evening.”

“Yes,” Kate swallowed, “She was kind enough to extend an invitation when we were reintroduced last night.”

Anthony nodded, straightening his jacket. “Forgive me, I realise this is considered impolite but I don’t want to miss my chance. Might I secure you for the first dance? And perhaps if you’re agreeable the next?”

“I… Do you really think you ought to act now or miss out? I don’t think you’ll have much competition.”

He made a small shrugging motion, “Perhaps I’m not willing to take the risk.”

Still she doesn’t allow herself to hope even as she gets ready that night not until she sees Lord Bridgerton waiting by the door, bustling forward past his mother even when she arrived.

[lordsukunas]

tldr: bf!yuuji being needy for kisses. please give him a kiss.

cw: none! a buncha fluff ft. protective yuuji moment. megumi cameo (dont ask why). also black-coded!reader !!

a/n: can yall tell i rly like bf!yuuji... its getting outta hand atp, i have like two or three drabbles for him in my drafts, but this might be the only one making it out of there (i have way too many drafts... :p) anyway, hope yall enjoy this lil snippet

“hey.” poke.

“hey, baby.” poke.

“heyyyyy–”

“yuuji,” you huff, but there’s that familiar smile on your face that just makes his grin grow, revealing pearly whites. “i’m tryna read.”

he looks up at you from where his big head is resting on your thighs, and his fingers play with the fabric of your shirt. his shirt, really. “did you give me a kiss today?”

you flip the page. “i did. i gave you one when we went out to eat for breakfast,” (he remembers that because you tasted like maple syrup and strawberries) “and during lunch after i got beat up by maki.” even after five hours and a melted icepack, the bruise on your ass still hurts.

yuuji’s lips curve downward into a little pout. clearly, he was trying to catch you off guard, which was dumb. you’re never gonna miss his scheduled kisses.

“mmm, okay...” he taps his chin in exaggerated thought. “buuuut did you give me one this evening?”

this evening? that’s new.

you place your bookmark in between the pages and set your book down. finally, you’re looking at him, brow raised with a mischievous glint in your eyes. “oh, so we’re doing dinner kisses now?”

a light red dusts his tan cheeks, but he nods. “well... yeah.” a beat. “c’mon, baby, i jus’ want one!” big caramel eyes peer up at you, lips puckered ever so slightly for a kiss.

the sight is adorable, and the part of you that never wants to deny yuuji anything is practically screaming for you to give him that kiss. on the other hand, the little devil on your shoulder is telling you to keep teasing him a little.

unfortunately for your boyfriend, you’re feeling a bit cheeky right now. and you maybe, just maybe want payback for him letting you get your ass beat by maki.

“okay, but if i give you one now, i can’t give you one before curfew.”

yuuji’s jaw drops like you just told him the world’s ending, and he shoots upright, his body twisting on his bed to properly face you. “what?! no, please! that’s not even fair. y’know i need it, otherwise i can’t sleep good and fushiguro gets all mad at me.”

you shrug, barely fighting back a smirk. “then you gotta pick. you either get a kiss now or later. i only have three kisses per day.”

“only three?! babe, tell me you’re not–”

there’s a loud thump against the wall that yuuji’s bed is pushed against, and both of you freeze, his arm shooting out in front of your body.

“can the both of you shut up?” megumi’s voice is muffled, but the irritation in it is crystal clear.

immediately, yuuji’s arm drops and the tension drains out of your bodies. he sighs. “sorry, fushiguro.”

you might have heard a grunt of approval before it falls quiet again, the faint chirping of crickets and the familiar hum of his fan in the background. your boyfriend is still giving you the puppy-dog eyes, practically batting his dark lashes. “pleaseeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee?”

ugh. you’re never gonna win — he’s too cute! plus, megumi is a little scary when he acts like an angry mom.

“fine, c’mere.” you cup his face, bringing his soft pink lips closer to yours. your lips touch, and a burst of energy rushes through you as yuuji places his hands on your hips.

after a few long moments (because heaven knows you can’t help but get a little greedy with him), you pull away, a small grin on your face. “there. is that enough to tide you over until curfew?”

“nope,” he says, and leans right back in for another kiss. you move your head to the side, so instead of connecting with your mouth, his lips press to your cheek.

you tsk, theatrically wagging your finger, which earns a snort from yuuji. “now you’re definitely not getting another kiss. needy self.”

“what?! it’s not my fault you taste good!”

“maybe you just needa have more self-restraint.”

he huffs. “how am i supposed to have self-restraint when it comes to you? that’s like telling a bee not to make honey!”

oh.

heat rushes to your cheeks, and you’re glad it doesn’t show when you blush. how is your boyfriend so unknowingly good with words?!

you pinch his cheek and pray he doesn’t notice the slight strain in your voice. “whatever. let me finish reading, and maybe i’ll think about giving you a kiss before bed.”

“if you finish reading early, do i get extra kisses?” yuuji hands you the book, grinning.

“gotta think about it.”

surprise surprise — he ends up getting extra kisses.

[vixstarria]

Kinktober Day 17 - Bloodplay

For every day of the month of October I will be posting a little snippet following prompts listed in this post. Most of these will not be full fics, but rather short snippets, set-ups, and, in a few cases, copied bits and pieces of fics I have already published. But, if there is a lot of interest and feedback on any of the snippets, they might just evolve into full fics, so keep that in mind.

Disclaimer: A realistic approach to vampire porn that absolutely no one asked for. TW: menstruation. This is a crackfic. Late Act 1, probably.

He had bumped into her - well, purposefully cornered her, really - just outside of camp. The slight flush of her cheeks and uncharacteristic hint of nervous agitation in her eyes at the sight of him only spurred him on.

“There you are,” he purred. “And here I thought you’ve been avoiding me.”

“It’s been a long and difficult day,” Asmodea deflected.

“Has it? Then you will be coming to my tent later, won’t you? You must be so sore and tired, I can help you relax,” he cooed.

“Not tonight, Astarion.”

“Why..?” he teased, wrapping his arms around her and maneuvering her until her back was pressed against a tree, a barely perceptible whimper betraying her real thoughts about her preferred methods of rest and relaxation.

He already knew why, of course, his acute sense of smell had picked up on it immediately.

“You already know why, you smug bastard, drop the act,” she grated.

His face split into an impish grin at her words, but he relented.

“I want to try it,” he said earnestly. “Can I? Please?”

She sighed but seemed to consider it.

“Is this something you've done before?”

“No, never,” he said. “It was forbidden.”

Asmodea swore under her breath.

“And what makes you think you’ll enjoy it?”

“Oh!" he gasped and leaned away in faux-sheepishness. "I was sure we had covered this before, but in case we haven't," he leaned in to whisper to her, "I am a vampire.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration.

“That's not what I mean, you asshole. ...The blood. It's not what you're expecting." She swore again. "How do I explain this... It's not like normal blood, it’s… thicker. Glob-like, even.”

“Sounds delectable.”

“And I don’t know if you realise this, but I don’t just… bleed on command, it… leaks, slowly.”

“Oh you tease," Astarion chuckled. "Threatening me with a good time and a long time.”

“…Look, it’s really not what you think it is,” she sighed. “And it’s not even all just blood, it’s-”

“I know it’s not all made up of blood. You do not need to explain how menstruation works, darling, I am well-informed.”

“How?”

“…What?”

“How is it that you’re informed?”

The circumstances of Astarion’s education involved Dalyria nearly having an aneurysm when overhearing him and Petras theorising on the finer aspects of the process, and, outraged, taking it upon herself to lecture them on it, in meticulous detail and with utter disregard for their eventual protestation.

“I am over two centuries old,” he said, hoping that explanation would suffice. It did.

“I don’t know…”

“What you don’t know is what you’re doing to me,” he whispered in her ear, pressing his hips against hers. “Your scent is driving me insane, I just want to bury my face between your legs. Won’t you let me pleasure you that way..?”

“Godsdamnit, Astarion,” she breathed with a quiver in her voice.

“Please,” he purred against the shell of her ear, knowing that that simple measure would make her knees buckle.

“Fine,” she relented. “Just don’t be weird about it.”

“Sit on my face.”

They had moved to Astarion's tent at last.

She seemed to have finally let her inhibitions go, moaning and grinding her hips slowly against his mouth, her knees in either side of his head. He couldn't have been happier.

It was decadent, rich, tantalising. She had been right - it wasn’t quite what he thought it would be, but it wasn’t worse, just different. The smell and taste of her sex mixed with her blood was driving him mad with lust. It didn’t gift him the same vigour and vitality as the blood from her veins - in fact, he had a suspicion he might feel sick later - but for now he didn’t have a single care in the world, as he lapped desperately at her cunt, trying to stick his tongue as deep inside her as he could.

“More,” he groaned in between swipes of his tongue, “you can give me more, can’t you?”

"I told you-" she breathed, but she never got to finish her sentence as he expertly flipped her onto her back, and continued to lick, adding his probing, digging fingers to his ministrations.

Eventually there was a pause in Astarion's tonguework, and Asmodea opened her eyes to glance down between her legs.

“Ast- What are you chewing?!”

“I’m not entirely sure, darling,” he said, thoughtfully, continuing to jaw something. “A blood clot, I hope.”

 Asmodea cursed and tried to sit up and move away from him, but before she could get away he wrapped an arm around a thigh, securing her, and rattled off, trying to assuage her.

“Nonono, darling, it is delicious, you are delicious, you have nothing to be ashamed of, this is the greatest day of my unlife - after the day I'd met you, of course - it makes up for all my missed birthdays for the past 200 years, please just believe me, this is the most delectable blood I have ever tasted.”

She had nearly calmed down and lay back down, taking a deep breath, before he continued. “…But is it supposed to be stringy..?”

Astarion snickered as he just barely managed to avoid a kick aimed at his head. Her change in temper, albeit precarious, was, as the mortals say, a cherry on top.

My Kinktober masterlist and prompts post

[jadeazora]

Some snippets of a longer meeting I found fascinating. (I don't know if Yuyama has social media, but I hope he doesn't because because OOF. Like, it's okay that he has his own vision for the character and and everything, but said vision of that eternal adventurer was why I dropped the series as a kid. I just had burnout. 😅)

So, a bit of context from my personal experience with the old Ash anime, and sorry if it is a little rambly. I had originally started watching from early OS (the first episode I ever saw was when I was 6, and it was the one where Ash catches Bulbasaur), and stopped following it in mid-Hoenn (when I was maybe 11 or 12), which was when I caught onto the loop they had Ash in, that he'd never really reach a conclusion to his journey and it was really just meant to be an eternal adventure rather than something to make real progress in. (I would watch episodes if there were characters I liked, or if it just happened to be on, but I couldn't get invested in Ash anymore. I would watch for pretty much everybody else.) To me, it felt like you were just supposed to watch until you matured and were expected to leave, so that's pretty much what I did.

I tried coming back in Unova after playing BW, because I really loved the games and was excited to see Team Plasma in the anime, and it had a very promising start with the quicker pacing, but then came the earthquake and the cancelled two-parter, so I pretty much dropped the series again because there was no Plasma in sight until roughly two years later. I watched the league, but Cameron and the way Plasma (sans N) was handled pissed me off enough that I dropped the series entirely until TSME reeled me back in with Lysandre, and I joined Tumblr close to the time XYZ came out, so I just started watching the anime as a weekly thing from the Flare Arc on because it seemed like a fun thing to do for this blog. (I was also getting caught up on what I missed around this time.)

But even despite coming back and doing that, I still wasn't particularly invested in Ash, tho I was happy when he made big strides in his journey, like when he won the Alola League. I was here for the Aether family in SM, and all the returning characters in Journeys. When it came time that they were announcing their plans to retire Ash my literal reaction was YELLING, "We're finally FREE???"

It's pretty much one of the biggest reasons I gravitated to Horizons, besides being interested in the new cast. It seems to have a clear ending in mind with the way the plot is headed. Like, because the main mysteries are centered around Terapagos and the Explorers/Lucius, I really don't think we'll continue following them after everything's resolved. It might be risky changing casts, but that variety makes things way more interesting. (It's just more fun that way, having more characters to talk about, discussing favorites and least favorites with people.)

[wolfjackle-creates]

Bad Reveal AU Chapter 2 Part 2

As promised! Here's the compilation of every snippet I've written for the 1000 follower ask game. I added an additional 300 words to the end to round out the scene.

Story Summary: Danny loves the Waynes, loves living with them. After the GIW, after his parents, he never thought he'd be able to have this again. A family, a home.

Then he overhears a conversation.

The Waynes aren't just the Waynes. They're the Bats, part of the Justice League. And the Justice League works with the US Government. The same government that runs the Ghost Investigation Ward.

It was all a lie.

AO3 link

Tumblr Links: Chapter 1, Previous

Word Count: 2.6k

-----

Three days later and they were all ready to tear their hair out. Barbara had found nothing new on the Fenton parents, even after Tim and Bruce joined her in the search. Apparently everything about the Fentons had been hidden behind the best digital security they had ever seen. Everything except the basics. And the firewalls were so good that they were almost invisible which is why no one had noticed them before.

Danny’s room lacked any sort of clue. They opened every drawer and went through everything they could find, only for nothing even slightly unusual to turn up. Definitely nothing like the bizarre energy weapon he’d used.

Jason had asked around as Red Hood to see if he could find any leads on the weapon. But every rumor lead to a dead end.

They could find nothing that might lead them to the people who wanted to hurt Danny. And Danny never came home.

Dick was currently in Danny’s room, again, trying to find anything. He was under the bed searching for hidden compartments in the frame or box spring when sharp footsteps sounded in the hall. A moment later, Alfred cleared his throat from the doorway.

“Master Dick! I believe you were instructed to leave the cave so you could rest.”

Dick pushed himself out from under the bed and sat so he was leaning against the bed frame. He flashed a dazzling smile. “Sorry, Alfred. I just had the idea to check the bed frame for any hidden messages or compartments. Wouldn’t have been able to sleep without doing it.”

Alfred sniffed. “We have already been over every inch of this room. You will not find anything new and you know this.”

Dick sighed, letting the smile drop away, and rubbed his face. He looked down at the carpet as he picked at it. “I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep. I just keep seeing his face. He was certain we were going to hurt him, Alfred. My own brother. How could I have failed him so badly?”

Alfred’s shoes came into view as he walked further into the room and sat next to Dick. “You haven’t failed him, Master Dick. And you know that. His fears were his own; based on experiences from before he ever joined this family. And we did not know there were problems to address. But we do now and I have full faith that you will solve this and bring Master Danny back home.”

“I wish I had your optimism, Alfred.”

“Then I shall just have to have enough for the both of us. Now, if you insist on being useful, Titus could use his afternoon walk. Normally Master Bruce or I take care of it…”

“But with B injured and the house full, you’ve got enough to handle. I’ll take care of it, Alfred.”

“Thank you, my boy. Now, help an old man up.”

Dick laughed; it wasn’t sincere, not truly, but he knew it’d make Alfred feel better. “Don’t even pretend you can’t get up on your own.” But he still did as requested and helped Alfred to his feet.

“When you’re my age, you will know what troubles I face.”

“Sure, Alfred. Now, where is Titus right now?”

Ten minutes later, Dick was outside in the late spring sun throwing a tennis ball for Titus. The dog was delighted with the game.

He rather felt like it should be raining or overcast or something. Not a balmy spring day with birds singing and bees buzzing in the clover. Danny was still missing; it shouldn’t be a nice day.

His next throw went much farther than he planned, and Titus bounded away.

Dick groaned and collapsed to the ground. He threw an arm over his eyes as he bit back his tears. Everyone was relying on him to hold it together. Damian was on a hair trigger and he was the only one who could keep him in line consistently; Tim was sunk deep into his research and barely surfacing for another energy drink every few hours; Jason and Bruce couldn’t be around each other for more than ten minutes without someone starting to yell. Duke was spending more and more time on patrol trying to find any information on the meta angle.

And all of them came to him to complain about the others. His family needed him. He couldn’t fall apart.

When a shadow fell over his face, he cracked open an eye expecting to see a cloud covering the sun. Instead he screamed and jumped to his feet as he came face-to-face with Clark.

“Warn a guy next time!”

Clark, the bastard, just laughed at him. “Hey, Dick. Didn’t expect to find you here.”

Before he could reply, Titus returned, ball clenched proudly in his mouth. “Good boy,” said Dick as he petted him. “Ready to go back inside?” To Clark, he said, “Most of us are staying at the manor right now. What brings you here?”

“We’re worried. Bruce called in saying he had an injury that would prevent field work for a few weeks. At the same time, Tim told Kon he’d be unavailable for Young Justice missions until further notice. And Damian canceled a sleepover with Jon with no explanation. So I made two of Ma’s pies and decided to come over for a visit. What’s going on?”

Dick sighed. “Danny’s gone. He discovered who we were.” He let out a hysterical laugh. “And apparently thinks that because we work with the US government it means we were just pretending to like him to gather information so we could turn him over to someone who would hold him against his will and torture him.”

Clark landed and pulled him into a hug. Dick clung on tightly. “Why does he think that?”

Dick shrugged and, reluctantly, pulled away. “Apparently his parents betrayed him once already. I think…” Dick closed his eyes and whistled sharply. “Come, Titus.” He held onto Titus’s collar and began walking away from Clark towards the manor. “We think he already has experience being held and tortured. And that it was his parents fault.”

Clark’s sharp inhale proved his horror at such a thought.

“Yeah. So now Danny’s gone and we have no idea how to search for him. Did B tell you he’s a meta? We knew he had some powers, but clearly we missed some because now we suspect invisibility, density shifting, and flight. So we’re trying to find the people who want to hurt him. But we keep hitting walls!” Titus whined when his grip tightened too much. Dick winced and let go immediately to pet the dog. “Sorry, Titus. You’re such a good boy.”

Clark draped an arm around his shoulders. “Well, why don’t you take me to the cave and you can go over everything you know. Maybe a fresh pair of eyes will help.”

Dick shrugged. “Couldn’t hurt. And maybe seeing you will remind Bruce he knows how to do more than grunt when people ask him a question.”

Clark winced. “That bad, huh?”

“Worse, if I’m honest. Danny shot him with an energy weapon before density shifting out of the cave. So now his newest kid is missing and he’s too injured to go out and search for him.”

Clark let out a low whistle. “Yep. That’ll do it.”

Dick pulled out his phone and opened the group chat. A quick text ensured everyone who was around would make their way to the cave. “I’ve told everyone to meet us in the cave. We’ll swing by the kitchen to get some plates and cutlery for the pie. Thanks for that, by the way.”

Clark ruffled his hair. “You know me, I’m too midwestern to show up anywhere unannounced without food.”

Dick gave a half smile, unable to muster up anything warmer.

Clark tried to keep up a stream of small talk as they swung by the kitchens to gather the plates. But Dick just couldn’t keep up with it. His mind was just too far away, on a young boy with blue eyes who loved hugs and had fit into the family so smoothly.

When they got to the cave, Tim didn’t even look up at the sound of the elevator doors opening. Dick followed his lead and ignored him, instead going straight to Bruce.

“You’ve got a visitor, B!”

Bruce only grunted and didn’t look up from his laptop.

Clark hid a smile. “I’m sure Alfred raised you better than that, Bruce.”

“Indeed I did,” declared Alfred with a sniff from where he was making notes in Bruce’s medical chart.

Bruce’s head whipped up at the sound of Clark’s voice and Dick bit his lip to keep from laughing. “Clark? What are you doing here?”

“Been worried about you and the kids, so I made some pie and decided to come on over. Kon and Jon are both waiting for updates as well.”

Apparently the appearance of Clark and Kon’s name was enough to finally drag Tim from the batcomputer for the first time in days. “Is Kon okay?”

Clark gave him a fond smile. “He’s fine, lad. It’s you—all of you—we’re worried about.”

Bruce looked away. “It’s Danny.”

Clark nodded and sat on the foot of the bed. “Dick’s told me a little. Let’s wait for the others to join us and you can all tell me everything.”

Dick checked his phone. “Babs said my text woke her up and don’t start discussions without her.”

Clark looked at him sharply. “Barbara is here, too? You really meant it when you said everyone’s been staying here, didn’t you?”

Dick shrugged. “Yeah, well, it’s Danny.”

Tim laughed mirthlessly. “Yeah, he’s the only one who all of us like pretty much all the time.”

Clark frowned as he looked around at the people gathered, but didn’t say anything.

Alfred bustled in with a chair. “If some of you would help me set up chairs for everyone? We might as well be comfortable as we talk and eat.”

“Of course, Alfred,” said Clark, seeming relieved. “Be happy to help.”

Honestly, with how many people were there, it only took a minute. Jason and Stephanie arrived just as they were finishing up.

“Duke messaged me,” said Jason. “He’s on his way back from patrol.”

“Damian?” asked Dick.

“I am here, Richard,” said the boy as he walked into the medbay. “I apologize for my tardiness. I was with Alfred the cat and didn’t notice your message immediately.”

Dick went to his side and ruffled his hair. He ignored Damian’s glare with years of practice. “Glad you could make it. Come on, let’s get you a slice of pie.”

“I’ll start slicing,” said Clark.

By the time the pie was sliced and everyone had a piece, Barbara had arrived.

“Where is Duke?” asked Bruce.

Tim pulled up the tracking information on his laptop. “Looks like he’s only twenty minutes out.”

“He’d’ve said something if he’d learned anything new,” said Jason. “I say we just start sharing now. He’ll be back before we get through it all.”

“Agreed,” said Bruce.

Clark nodded and looked around the room. Dick just knew he was cataloging how exhausted they all looked. “What can you tell me about what happened?”

“Daniel lost his mind and attacked Father,” said Damian.

“Listen here, Demon Brat,” argued Jason, “you know damn well that’s not what happened.”

And when Tim backed up Jason, it became a shouting match. Dick buried his face in his hands. A headache was forming and he knew if he tried to intervene, he’d just make it worse right now.

“Enough!” said Alfred when it became clear the others wouldn’t calm down on their own. “We will go over it one at a time. Master Richard, you may start.”

So Dick gave all the information he knew. When one of the others indicated they wanted to add more, he let them. Alfred made sure no one overstepped. Duke arrived partway through and described what he saw when Danny disappeared and used his powers.

When everyone was finally satisfied they’d shared everything they knew, Barbara pulled out a tablet to show Clark the footage of the confrontation in the cave.

“And you don’t know where he got that weapon?” asked Clark after he watched it twice.

“No clue,” said Tim. “We’ve searched his room a dozen times since then, but there’s nothing even remotely like it.”

Jason nodded. “And I’ve been asking around. No one I can find has ever heard of one like it.”

Alfred added, “Even I was unaware he was in possession of such an object.”

Clark hummed as he replayed the last few seconds of the video where Danny density shifted through the stone. “He brought it with him when he left.”

“You’ve thought of something,” said Bruce.

“Could he have hidden the weapon inside something? Like a wall or the floor?”

Bruce hummed as he thought. “Is that even possible?”

Dick shrugged. “We know very little about what he can and can’t do.”

“Want me to take a look at his room with my X-ray vision?” asked Clark.

Bruce nodded. “Please.” No one commented on the begging tone in his voice.

And for the first time in days, Dick felt hope rising in his chest.

“And do we have any idea what he meant by Jason being in trouble, too?”

Jason shrugged. “Probably has something to do with how I died. I’m apparently the only one who can sense Danny’s empathy, too. And I mean supernatural empathy, not the normal person kind.”

Bruce agreed. “I found the most information on Amity Park when I found my way to supernatural message boards. Zatana is looking into some things for me as well. But it always leads back to ghosts. Though why Jason alone is of interest when others in the family have also died is uncertain.”

“I see. Well, I suppose we’ll find out when you get him home. Who wants to show me Danny’s room? We might as well start there.”

Of course, no one was willing to sit this one out. The biggest argument arose when Bruce insisted on pushing himself to his feet. He refused the wheelchair Alfred tried to insist he use, but a raised eyebrow and pursed lips did get him to take the crutches.

Dick and Jason exchanged a smirk at the scene. Alfred always got his way.

So, the entire group made their way out of the cave and through the halls of Wayne Manor until Clark stopped in the doorway to Danny’s room.

He let out a low whistle. “Whatever his powers are, he can definitely hide things in other objects. He’s left a lot behind.”

“Can you tell what they are?” asked Bruce.

Clark shrugged. “Some of them. There’s another item that looks like that blaster he had. Some…rope? I think? A tool box in the floor. A case that’s probably lead-lined. And a lot of stuff that I just can’t identify. I mean, a random cylindrical object. Some rectangles, maybe external hard-drives?”

Damian stepped forward, gripping the handle of his katana. “Then we will smash the walls to see what he is hiding.”

Dick rushed forward to put an arm around Damian’s shoulders and stop him from doing anything.

“Indeed not, Master Damian.” Alfred gave the boy a level look. “We want Master Danny to have a home to return to. And what sort of welcome would he feel if he came back to a destroyed room? Master Bruce, Mr. Kent, I am aware you have other collegues who can density shift. Could one of them be prevailed upon to come and remove the items?”

Damian scowled and kicked at the floor. Dick bit back his smile. The kid really did care about their missing brother, whatever he said.

Clark nodded. “I’ll call J’onn, Alfred.”

-----

Part 3

Several of you guessed this is where I was going to take it the minute I introduced Clark. Didn't see anyone mention J'onn, though. (But that might be because I was sharing such small segments, so fewer people were speculating.) Let me know what you think!

I've finally gotten around to making a Subscription Post for this fic, so follow that if you want notifications!

@hailsatanacab also started a fill for this prompt that I absolutely adore, so check that out here! (It hurts, it hurts so good.)

[diazsdimples]

Fuck It Friday!

Congrats to us for surviving premiere day! Celebrating it by sharing some of what I've dubbed the Secret Wip. Blame my co-conspirators @hippolotamus and @slightlyobsessedwitheverything, and read this snippet by Hippo for some context. Tagged for FIF by @wildlife4life and @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove (I'm sorry if this isn't your thing guys!)

Eddie rubs his thumb over the stretched skin soothingly and he leans forwards to press a small kiss just above her belly button. “Better?” he asks, eyes flickering over her face has he scrutinizes her expression. “Yeah, it’s fine now,” Shannon replies, rubbing her belly thoughtfully. “That was fucking sore though.” “What was sore?” Shannon groans as Tommy’s voice floats down the corridor, and a second later he walks into the lounge, peering at them suspiciously. “Jesus Christ, not you too! I’m fine, people!” Shannon glares at Eddie, as though it’s his fault her uterus suddenly decided to become active. “Is she fine?” Tommy asks, directing his question to Eddie because he knows as well as Eddie does that Shannon likely won’t admit she’s in labour until the baby is crowning. Eddie – a trained medic who has delivered many a baby – is apparently a reliable source when it comes to his wife’s status. “I guess?” Eddie shrugs, and out of the corner of his eye he sees Shannon nod resolutely. “It didn’t feel as hard as contractions usually do. Probably just Mr Sir rearranging himself and causing a Braxton Hick’s.” Tommy tuts and drops to his knees beside Shannon. He taps her belly three times with his knuckle and clears his throat. “Theodore, this is your father Part Three speaking. I’m going to need you to stop partying up in there. It’s uncomfortable for your mom and makes her very cranky.” It’s a testament to just how pregnant Shannon is that Tommy doesn’t get a clip around the ears for the last comment. Instead, she smiles at him fondly and gives his head a little shove. “You’re such a dork.”

Ngl I have no clue who's jam this might be so tagging some mutuals who might be interested/ want to share something.

@theotherbuckley @daffi-990 @spotsandsocks @bidisasterevankinard @buckera

@watchyourbuck @bigfootsmom @tommybuckleykinard @diazheartsbuckley @bucksbignaturals

@bibuckbuckgoose @dorkydiaz @queerdiaz @tommykinrd @steadfastsaturnsrings

@rainbow-nerdss @jesuisici33 @bucks-daddy-issues @monsterrae1 @bi-buckrights (pls lmk if this is not your thing, or if you'd like to be added to this taglist)

[a-whisper-in-the-forest]

Maybe

Part 1 (coffees and tips)

Part 2 (somebody I care about)

Civilian turns into the next aisle of their local supermarket. They got milk, eggs, something to eat for tonight…snacks. They need snacks. Some candy would be nice. Oh, no, popcorn. Yes, popcorn to eat with a movie. Tonight is going to be a good night. Their shift went well and they got a ton of tips, their toast didn't burn this morning and they haven't lost a single thing. Today was a good day. Only, Villain hadn't passed by the shop today, or yesterday, or the day before that. Maybe the fight with Superhero scared them off a bit? The coffeeshop is supposed to be a safe place for villains and a superhero that just bursts in is kind of contradicting. They really hope they can see them tomorrow, work hasn't been the same.

They turn into the other aisle and see a surprising figure ahead. They are dressed in some sweatpants and a hoodie, hair a little messed up but in a cute way and holding a shopping basket. Civilian’s heart makes a little jump. “Hi, Villain. Didn't expect you here,” Civilian says excitedly. Was that too much? Villain looks up a little surprised but then pulls their lips into a smile. “Hi,” they answer while putting a frozen pizza in their basket. “I normaly don’t come here, but I didn't have anything to eat so… deepfreeze chemical shit it is.” Civilian can't help but chuckle. “Don't you have henchmen that can cook for you?” Villain grabs another pizza. “Technically yes, but after three days of planning and scheming we could all use a break.”

“Oh,” Civilian answers, “that's why you didn't show up.” Villain’s smile turned into a smirk. “What? Missed me?” they ask stepping forward. “Maybe,” Civilian answers, not backing away. Villain hums in agreement and corners Civilian against the freezer door. “I might have missed you too, honestly,” Civilian feels that funny feeling in their stomach flare up again. Was it them or was the room getting hotter? “Really?” they whisper. They are so close together right now, they could practically taste Villain’s lips. Villain leans in even closer and whispers in their ear. “Every minute. I couldn't even focus on my plans, that's why it took so long.” Civilian’s breath hitches and they feel a blush creep up their neck. Villain lets out a soft, but deep chuckle. “Oh, dear, so easily flushed. I wonder…” Before Civilian could do anything, they felt a soft peck on their cheek. They turned as red as the tomato in their cart. Villain was still smirking and let out a satisfied hum. “I should stop there though, before you turn into a puddle.” Civilian didn't want them to stop, they wanted them to keep going. “Please, no, keep going.”

Villain’s smirl grew into a full smile. “That sounded pretty, but that's not for here. How about you go home and I drop off these pizzas to my gremlins that are apparently my henchmen. I'll come to your place later and you can ask me those nice questions again.” Civilian nods but they preferred the Villain coming straight home with them. As if Villain could read their mind they answered: “As I said, my henchmen are like gremlins and it's nearing midnight. Believe me, it’s only chaos that ensues.” Civilian just hoped they won't have to wait too long. “Will you hurry?” Civilian asked. Villain's cocked their head to the side. “Maybe.”

Villain obviously paid Civilian’s groceries.

Hi! This was the obvious poll winner so here it is! It's my first time writing something like this so go easy on me. As always I hope you enjoyed!

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