#bagels writing

[spinningbagel]

Erm,,, blood warning for the drawing and warning for implied/mentioned murder & suicide for the writing.

Timeloop!Sheriff is not sane 🫶🫶

When you’re forced to relive the same day over and over, one loop or another you’re bound to snap, not caring if your bullets hit your comrades or your enemies. You don’t listen to their pleas, only watching as you paint the white snow red.

And when the fog in your mind clears you’ll stare at the bloodbath you’ve created and you’ll weep. You’ll weep for the allies you killed, you’ll weep because no matter what you try or what you do, you’ll be doomed to repeat this god awful day.

And then, you’ll laugh at that realisation. You’re doomed, forced to repeat this day over and over and this entire thing is pointless crying over. You can just put a bullet in your head and this entire thing is over.

So that’s what you do, your body joining the others only to wake back up in the safety of your room. You etch another mark into the wall and get on with your day, wondering what else you can do to keep yourself entertained.

[saltydumplings]

Prompt #67

"You are my hero. Mine. If I say that you are perfect then that is exactly what you are...understood?"

"Villain, I--"

"What are you?" the villain cut them off.

The hero looked up at them with wide eyes. "I...b-but I'm not--"

"What are you?"

A beat.

"...Perfect," the hero conceded.

"Again."

"I am perfect."

The villain smiled down at them. They caught the hero's jaw with one hand, holding them captive with the slightest touch. "Of course you are, love. You above all people should know that I would never settle for anything less..."

[coffeeghoulie]

Mushy May Day 2: Late Night Snacks

Cirrus and Swiss share a moment while everyone else is asleep.

Mushy May put together by @forlorn-crows <3

Divider by @ghuleh-recs <3

Cirrus yawns as she leans heavily on the edge of the kitchen sink, the light low and yellow as she turns down the dimmer. The cold ceramic tile under her feet is enough to keep her awake, alongside the growl in her stomach.

She waits for the toaster, the heating elements glowing a bright orange that almost remind her of Dewdrop's eyes when he gets upset. Cirrus plays with the end of the ties on her sweatpants, willing herself not to jump when the toaster pops, but fails anyways, laughing softly at herself as she collects the two halves of her everything bagel on a paper plate.

"Evenin', whisp," an easy voice filters into the kitchen, and Cirrus jumps higher than she did when the toaster popped.

"Swiss," she gasps, laughing with a hand over her chest. "Quit being so damn quiet."

He smiles, scratching idly at his stomach as he moves over to one of the cabinets, bare chested and barefoot. "Where's the fun in that?" he teases, reaching up for the bulk jar of trail mix on the top shelf. Cirrus watches appreciatively as the muscles in his back flex as he stretches.

Cirrus grins, turning away from him to fish a butter knife from the drawer. "Can't sleep?"

"I don't know how many times you've spent the night with them," Swiss says, tossing a handful of dried fruit and nuts into his mouth. "But damn, the little bug can snore. And then I was hungry, so here I am."

She smiles over her shoulder at him, flashing him with sharp teeth before. "Same boat. At least, the hungry part, not the snoring. You know Cue doesn't snore."

Swiss snorts, picking out a cashew with his claws. "Nah, she doesn't. A real angel, isn't she? At least, as close as we get."

"You've got that right." Cirrus hums, pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear as she grabs the container of soft goat cheese from the fridge, the stuff that Mountain brings in from the Abbey's goat herd. "Could you be a dear and grab the honey jar for me, switchblade?"

He doesn't answer, but sets the trail mix down to root in the cupboards again.

"Thanks," she says, smearing the goat cheese over her bagel, the knife scraping over the crispy, toasted sides. Swiss passes her the honey and a spoon, even without her asking, and she flashes him a smile in thanks.

The cheese melts over the bagel, enough to get soft and spreadable, and Cirrus drizzles a little honey over each half.

"That looks good," Swiss says through a mouthful of peanuts and almonds. "I should try that next time."

Wordlessly, Cirrus takes half of her bagel and holds it out, not looking up at him as she finishes putting honey on the other half, closing the jar one handed. "Wanna bite?"

"You're too sweet, whisp," Swiss says, swallowing the trail mix with a dramatic gulp. Some of the honey's started to drip off of the edge, getting her fingers sticky. Cirrus jolts as she feels something hot and wet, turning to catch Swiss's mischievous gaze as he licks the dripping honey.

She rolls her eyes, but she matches his grin as he takes a bite.

"Shit, that's good," he says with his mouth full. Cirrus takes a bite next to where he did, letting her eyes shut as she eats, the goat cheese tangy on her tongue.

"Mhm," she agrees, chewing. There's a rustle as Swiss shoves his hand back into the trail mix jar. She knows without opening her eyes that he's picking out a handful of M+Ms.

They stand there in near silence, just existing together as they eat. Cirrus sways slightly, the feathered tuft of her tail brushing against the tile. "M+M me?" Cirrus asks, brushing a few crumbs and sesame seeds from her tanktop.

Swiss's mouth quirks up in a smirk, and he tosses her a blue one. She catches it and pops it in her mouth before she turns to put the goat cheese back in the fridge, her paper plate in the garbage. "Thank you, switchblade."

"For you, whisp? Anything," he says, batting his eyes as he downs his handful of candy. "Swear to the father below these get so much better when they're in trail mix."

"It's the salt," Cirrus yawns, stretching until something in her back pops like a glow stick. Swiss groans in sympathy, turning to close the trail mix jar and put it back on the top shelf.

"Yeah, that's probably it," he says, shutting the cabinet door. "I'm heading back to bed, Cir. Get some sleep?"

Cirrus smiles, running her fingers through her hair. "That's the plan, I need to get back in bed before Cue wakes up. Don't like her waking up alone."

Swiss takes a deep breath. "I get it. I'm the same way about the bug."

Cirrus steps to leave the kitchen, but then there's a big hand curling gently around her bicep, and she lets herself be pulled gently into the multighoul's arms. "Good night, whisp," Swiss says, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

She smiles. "Good night, switchblade."

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 21

This past winter, Geralt grabbed a tower of books from the library and holed himself up in his room for practically the entire season. Eskel walks in one night, intent on just checking in on his brother, only to poke around and find that every book that Geralt is painstakingly studying is medical books, from how to deal with a sore throat to the most rarest of diseases. Eskel asks Geralt why he needs to know all of this, worried Geralt might be losing his mutagen-induced healing factor?! Is he getting sick!? Are his wounds not healing over time!? Oh GODS! Oh nvm- Geralt says he's fine :) He's reading all of this because... He met a human bard he wants to keep safe? Odd... Especially for Geralt... But whatever makes his brother happy! I just want a scene after some nice gay brotherly teasing that's like "Ow- Oh no.. Geralt, my arm was scratched by a branch. Hold on, I need to-" And geralt is like FROTHING and is like "WE NEED BANDAGES, THREAD, A NEEDLE, DISINFECTANT, NUMBING SOLUTION, AND I KNOW FOURTEEN DIFFERENT NATURALLY MADE POULTICES I CAN MAKE, AND I KNOW A HELPFUL SPELL A HEDGEWITCH CAN CAST AND-" "It's just a scratch, Gera-" "SHIT, SIT DOWN, I GOTTA FIX MY HUMAN BEFORE HE DIES AND I LOSE ONE OF THE ONLY GOOD THINGS IN MY LIFE"

[jamespottersmixtape]

good morning to anyone who thinks barty and evan kiss hope ur day is going well

finals are about to drag me to hell and back for three days so let’s hope and pray for my sanity

[onceazzie]

LITERALLY crying cause i opened my dungeon meshi notion page (which is called mungeon deshi cause i made it at like 2am) and there was one page called "sometimes a family is a lesbian and a bagel". ???

wjat the fuck. why is this here. what was it supposed to be? it's empty save for the title and i have no recollection of making it. something tells me it might have been a mom marcille and izutsumi fic but i don't know because i was DEAD FROM SLEEP DEPRIVATION...

[oatbugs]

procrastination is starting to have its consequences finally

[vavandeveresfan]

When I have Writer's Block.

[skelebagels]

@didderd's tags on this post ;3 oh boy a reason to word doodle

cw: death, violence, cannibalism, general horror-tale awfulness

Scar's home was very obvious in its decay. The underground didn't feel right, smell right, and it was so quiet. A universe of horrors that has been left to rot away for a while. Long enough for the magic to taint and sour, leaving dust - liquid and particulate - to gather slowly from a decomposing monster instead of vanishing the corpse in an instance.

It gave the others more opportunity for survival.

As a result its extremely obvious to those in the vicinity when a monster so full of life suddenly appears. Scar is one of the first to stalk his way to Snaps and investigate the succulent smell of heavy magic.

He's a little surprised when he sees a skeleton monster, but not one he recognizes. Not that he is personally familiar with the local bone boys. His body shivers and jitters from where he hides and stalks from a distance.

He's so hungry. The sharp heat of magic is already filling his mouth and coloring his jaw while his vision narrows on the possible prey. Hungry but its bones and theres something thats distracting him. Hungry but its bones, distraction, hungry, bones.

Bones have marrow...

He claws at the stitches running up the left side of his scalp, pestering the wound thats never fully healed.

He could break the bones and eat the marrow.

He had to duck and fall back some distance when his ears caught a starving snarl and realized it was from himself.

There was... Something smelled heavy of magic.

Scars mind didn't focus anymore, not really. It easily fell into cycles, forgetting the previous until something sparked in him and led to frustration and aggression.

But when it was a hunt...

Bones smelled heavy of magic. Dogs liked bones.

Wait.

He will wait.

His breathing and the jittering of his body eases, his body relaxing into a predatory stalk. The absent thought of 'at least the trap is nice to look at' flutters through his mind and is quickly swept up in the cyclical torrent.

His ear flicks at a distant disruption and he moves soundlessly into place.

Its a nameless dog monster, fur mangy, patchy, matted, and eyes crazed. It pops out of the brush to attack Snaps driven mad by their desperate hunger even if they stood no chance against the skeletal monster.

A chance they don't even get to roll.

The instant they make their move, Scar makes his. Lunging from the brush, landing on their back to then scale twistingly with fangs and claws. There's only a moment of fight between the two until Scar's legs are secure around the desperate dog's neck and a deep ruddy glow of magenta magic ignites in his hand.

The dog monster drops with a dripping rapier piercing through their skull. Scars tail cracking behind him. He doesn't even look at Snaps before he's tearing into the other monster's throat, desperate to insure his kill and also for the fresh warm meat.

[aliteral-ghost]

“Thanks so much for the help,” Gem says, slamming the hood of her car shut. Grian hops out from behind the wheel of his roommate's car and nods. “You’re a lifesaver, we wouldn’t have been able to go to work or anything without this!”

“Oh, it was no trouble,” Their neighbor, Cleo, says. She’s a little bit creepy, but also the only one Gem sees out on a day to day basis or has even spoken to at all. “It’s not often when my skills are needed.”

“What can we do to repay you?” Grian asks.

“Oh, just your firstborn child.”

He laughs, but it falls short when her expression doesn’t change. “Oh. You’re serious.”

“I am.” Cleo cackles. “I’ll be back, dearies.” Gem and Grian exchange shocked glances as she walks away.

“Does she know we’re not…?” Gem asks slowly. Grian shrugs, mouth still wide open.

A year later they’re still roommates in the same apartment (leases worked out, jobs stayed the same) and there’s a knock at the door. It’s Cleo. “Your child. Now.”

“Uhhh…” Gem says, looking around. “We have a cat?” Cleo laughs and claps her hands.

“A cat? Oh, perfect, perfect! I hate children!” Grian walks to the door, hoisting the orange cat high.

“This is Bagel, he likes committing crimes and eating plants.”

[bluberriemuffin]

ties

dazai x reader, 1.2k words

warnings: pm! dazai, illegal gambling, it’s suggestive for like. a second, bagel knows nothing about gambling, no capitalization, it’s actually super soft so the only real warning is bagel’s maiden voyage into posting bsd fanfiction, @seisitive is the only reason this exists so thank her. or blame her idk

synopsis: you are very frazzled with work and dazai finds this endlessly endearing. happy birthday dazai :)

a day that had you pacing the length of your office before noon was infrequent, considering your profession. infrequency, however, seemed to be a theme as you looked over the documents you’d laid out around your office. the room, containing your desk and the armchair it really shouldn’t fit, starts to spin slowly as you shed your sweater. the room seems smaller than before, and the armchair taunts you as a certain someone- the person who’d gifted you said chair- swings his feet from where he’s perched on your desk. why the hell did he bother, then, you muse.

you contemplate the scene before you as you throw the sweater onto the empty seat. the heat from your constant movement and the stress of the situation is dizzying as you heave a sigh and fix the sleeves of your button down, placing a hand over your face as you shake your head, trying to activate the thoughts like using an aerosol can.

the problem with the records you’d been having was consistent enough to no longer be a mistake, at least a sure marker of incompetence if not malintent. your colleagues couldn’t seem to care enough about the numbers that didn’t add up or the payouts for odds that shouldn’t have been set. for you however, this was another fire to put out.

“the odds were 37 to 1,” you huffed out. “and no one’s told me who’s set them that way.”

“mm,” dazai hums, merely letting you know he’s listening.

you pace back toward him, noticing his tie is crooked. veering off course, you put a hand on his shoulder before buttoning up the top button and readjusting his tie tight to his neck. his hands come up to rest against your hips as his face tilts up to catch yours. noses brushing, you stare at his sole eye, softened only for you, as you let go of his tie and walk out of his arms before turning on your heel to move back toward the desk.

you make it past the desk another time before returning to dazai’s side, hand curling around the tie once more and tugging it back from its loosened state. pausing to sigh, your eyes seem to see through dazai, instead focused somewhere else. dazai pulls on your sleeve. eyes snapping down, you kiss his pout away, practically reflexive as he smiles again.

“they don’t seem concerned at all,” you breathe, dejected. “i’m the only one.”

dazai is uninterested as he leans into your hand and face like a cat waiting to be pet. he makes another noncommittal sound.

tearing yourself away from him, a louder whine from dazai sounds as you walk around the desk to shift through the various papers. you see him move and in the corner of your eye and hear a rustle of fabric before he turns to you, eye focused on your face.

“y/n,” he tries, voice drawing out the sound to catch your attention. he’d been unhelpful so far, the way he knew you preferred. he had strict instruction from you to keep well out of your business unless it pertained to his work as well. “how much longer are you gonna be?”

your eye twitched. “i’ve only been at this an hour or so,” you looked up at him, hands reaching out to rebutton his shirt. “i’m looking at these until they make sense.” you say under your breath, finishing tying his tie from where it had laid undone on his shoulders.

you looked at your hands. hadn’t you just tied his tie? shaking your head once more, you walk back out into the small space between your desk and the door, taking notes of what transactions were logged with what dates in accordance to the accounts.

dazai laid out on your desk, pushing papers out of the way. he sighed, loudly, which you pointedly ignored. he sighed again, more of a huff as you bent and started sorting pages into subsections of employee and event.

“do you think i’m missing documents?” you asked, brows furrowed in genuine concern. dazai poked his head up to look at you, seemingly assessing the nature of your question; if you wanted a response. he sat up, kicking his legs once more before popping off the desk and kneeling next to you.

hand over your chin, you rearrange the piles. reaching out again, dazai intercepts your hands and brings it to his tie, where you absentmindedly tighten it, still looking at the values on the slips in front of you. he puts your hand on his cheek, holding it to his face as he kisses your palm. with this, you turn your head to him, finding him looking at you. he brings his hand down to his tie, tugging it down and-

“hey!” you startle. “have you- have you been doing that the whole time?”

he laughs, nuzzling into your hand more. “it took you forever to notice,” he says into your palm. “i was wondering if you were going to let me die from deprivation.”

“dramatic,” you complain, taking his collar in your free hand and pulling him into a kiss. he makes a happy noise against your lips and lets go of your hand to pull you closer to him by the waist. he guides you onto his lap, taking your hand and beginning to lead it down. you start to pull back until he veers it to the side, into a blazer pocket, where your hand closes around folded sheets of printer paper.

pulling back, you stare into his eye. he looks rather content for someone who’d just taken years off your life. you push his chest away, getting up and dusting yourself off, wiping your lips while you’re at it to hear his indignant whine. you mutter under your breath that you wished you couldn’t believe this. gathering all the documents and sitting at your desk, you start to piece everything together correctly.

he’s still sitting happily on the floor, waiting for you as you confirm everything was there.

“get out,” your voice is flat and pointed.

“i’ll meet you at the usual place for lunch?” he was gleeful as he got to his feet, taking his coat from underneath your sweater on the chair.

“no, get out,” you repeated, head turned though he could surely hear the smile in your voice.

“too cruel!” he mopes, opening the door. “i’ll see you later, my love.”

the room is quiet again. running your hand over the back of your neck, you come into contact with the silky fabric of his tie. you heave one last sigh, wrapping the tie around your hand. finally, you abandon the documents, picking up your sweater as you follow him, locking the door on your way out.

[spinningbagel]

Sorry y’all, chose angst & violence tonight.

-x-

Leo wasn’t sure why exactly they’d been feeling so irritable today. Well that’s a lie, they knew why. Firstly, their uncle had needed extra help in the cafe for a few hours; meaning they wouldn’t get as much time with One today, then when they’d finally been allowed to leave, they couldn’t find One at first. They took two more hours searching for their mentor before finding him at their little training spot, talking with Orca. King Orca. Which brought up so many more questions and led to this current moment.

“Kid- I swear I was going to tell you eventually but-“

One’s cut off by Leo, who at this point, had boiled over in terms of keeping their emotions in check.

“Were you? Were you really going to though!? Or was this just another thing you don’t tell me because I ‘don’t need to worry about it!??’”

There’s distant rumble of thunder.

“Kid-“

One tries and fails again, being cut off once more.

“No! I’m sick of being in the dark about these things! I’m sick you not telling me anything! How much more are you hiding from me!”

They yell, voice picking up with the wind, the first few drops of rain beginning to fall.

“You’re a kid, you shouldn’t have to put up with my shit and emotional baggage.”

One’s eyes are filled with nothing but concern for the teen he’s slowly learned to see as his kid. It annoys them further. They have no idea why something as simple as concern and not wanting to dump trauma on them is annoying them as much it is. Maybe they just don’t want to be sheltered anymore.

“But I’m not! I’m not some kid that needs to be sheltered by you! I can handle things! I can handle the truth If you’re not going to tell me things, why mentor me at all!?”

The rain falls heavier now. They’re frustrated and can’t calm down. One looks stunned, like his hiding spot just been found out.

“It would’ve been better if we never met.”

They speak the words softly. They’ll regret them later, once the storm has calmed. But this isn’t later, this is now, in the moment where Leo isn’t thinking right, frustration and the feeling of being sheltered from the truth cloud their judgement and their words. Clouds the way Ones expression falls and how he flinches back. Clouds their thoughts when they turn and walk away, their mind shutting out One’s yells and protests for them to stop before he eventually falls silent.

They’ll regret their words and actions later. But for now, this is the moment.

[mossmurdock]

He’s glowing. 

It isn’t often that you throw that word around. It’s reserved to the natural things that are a part of your world. The moon, the sea, the stars, and the beautiful sheen of rainy city streets are all examples you can list before bringing the plastic cup in your hand to your lips and messily taking a sip. 

You’ve hit the bottom, tongue met with the taste of watered down whiskey and flat coke. Yet, you cling to the empty thing like a lifeline. 

The  old condensation licking up the already damp skin of your palms and fingertips resembles the wet sweat sticking to his skin. The cup wrapped around your hand is cold. Such an obvious distinction; ruiner of any fantasy involving the curves of his skin and the rapt nature of your fingers. 

The cheap plastic makes a loud crack, and you feel the sound rather than hear it because of the booming music. Your hand is still tense by the time Gojo’s head whips your way. 

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 65

Geralt and Jaskier attend a flower festival at a village. Geralt notices that everyone is giving each other flower bouquets, wreaths, and crowns, so Geralt decides to make a gift for Jaskier. The festival has buttercups, but not dandelions, so he has to pick some himself, add in a few cornflowers because they reminded him of Jaskier's eyes, and bam! It's done! He gifts it to Jaskier, and Jaskier is very touched, thanking Geralt profusely, and giving him a kiss. Jaskier meanwhile, is just absolutely flabbergasted that Geralt gave him courting flowers! It's a dream come true!

[slightlytoastedbagel]

actually On Your Feet gave us two good things (well. three if you like Realize which I do). Kohane's "it's frustrating" line and the great crack fic idea of Vivid Bad Squad getting cancelled online for skipping school to yell at The Kotaki Taiga as he was about to go back to America.

[bagelrites]

whoaguys im 2 followers away from 300 that is!! very cool