#could i have made this better now that's it's been months? yeah but I'm lazy

[silverware-is-interesting]

random fanart dump i guess

+ms pain t

and um. this i guess.. :/ the design isn't great but i'll fix him up. eventually-

[imtherain]

How We Used To Be (Forced Closeness)

Oh Hai - Logan has inspired me again. This was supposed to be a very different story and there was supposed to be smut, but it didn't work out that way.

Warnings: Talk of injuries (basically that scene in Logan (2017)), Not smut, almost tho, talk about the past, angst I guess? Old Man Logan, who has issues with intimacy and it's not what you think (or maybe it is). I used y/n but it's in first person and I gave her powers/a mutant name, so idk what that's called.

Old Man Logan x mutant!reader I guess? I'm too old to learn the new tricks of labeling these things, all I know is I've been thirsty for Logan since I was literally 7 years old and this is quickly turning into one of the recipe blogs where you have to read a bazillion words before you see the directions. Sorry

Word Count: 3.2k (don't look at me)

[Masterlist]

“You look like shit, love,” I said, leaning in the doorway to the bathroom. Logan’s eyes shot up to glare at me in the mirror. He was bleeding from several bullet wounds and was currently shirtless and heaving over the sink. 

“Get the fuck out,” He ground out. I hadn’t seen him in almost six months. Almost a record.

“Calaban called me,” I told him, knowing he likely knew that was how I ended up here. “I’m glad he did, you’re worse off than anticipated.” 

“If you touch me, I’ll rip your arms off,” A caged animal snapping his teeth. I knew all of his threats to me were empty, but it still made my heart ache that he would rather suffer than let me help him.

“I’m not scared of you,” I told him, pulling myself off the doorframe. I shut the door behind me and crossed the tiles until I stood next to him. He was snarling in general, but didn’t move away when I took a cloth and began to clean the blood from one of the wounds on his arm.

My gift had earned me the name Booster back when things were good and goofy mutant names were all the rage, as my main ability was that I literally boosted other mutants powers when I touched them. I always joked about how it was a lazy XMen name. But now? There weren’t many of us left, no reason for silly code names. But we still stuck together when we could. I told myself that was the only reason I hung around this part of the country still. To be close to the few mutants I knew were left.

Nevermind that it was really the bleeding man in front of me that I stayed for.

“I don’t need your help,” Logan’s voice was quieter now, but still sharp edged like his teeth. I shushed him and wiped at another spot of blood, waiting for him to give in to the knowledge that I could actually make him feel better.

“I’m sure you don’t, but it would make me feel useful to help, would you deny me that?” I quirked an eyebrow at him and he looked away from me. 

“Last time you helped me I hurt you, I’m not letting that happen again,” I reached up and took his face in my hands. His eyes fluttered closed.

“Cuts heal,” I told him. He moved to cage me with his arms for a moment and I was sure he was going to give in. But all at once he shoved me away from him and I stumbled into the wall. “Logan,” I chided. 

“Leave, Y/N,” There was no snarl left in his voice, just defeat. 

And pain.

“No,” I told him simply. “Now are you going to let me Boost you or not?” 

“Last time…” 

“Yeah, yeah, last time,” I rolled my eyes as I cut him off. My abilities didn’t just boost one part of a mutant, it boosted all of them. So in Logan’s case, it made him a bit more animalistic for a time. Made him more likely to use his teeth, or use his claws.

The claws are what got me that last time he kept thinking about. He got me good, I'd give him that, I even had the scars on my ribcage if you looked close enough. But I didn't tell him that.

“If you do that again, I won’t be able to stop myself from…” Logan snarled at himself as a wave of pain contorted his features. “Fuck,” He cursed lowly to himself. I sighed and pulled my shirt off while he watched me in the mirror. 

“I’m a big girl, love, I can handle you,” I half teased, half soothed him. “And don’t forget, I get to keep a bit of what I boost, so anything you do to me won’t last long,” A secondary benefit to skin to skin contact with me. I got to taste the powers that others had. I hadn’t used it on too many mutants in my life. Most mutants didn’t really have powers that benefited from boosting all that much. But Logan and his healing factor? It was useful. Even if it made him extra feisty for a day or so.

It also made him horny usually but that was hardly a complaint from me.

“Fine, but only for a minute,” He finally gave in. I smiled at him and stepped behind him.

“Want me to take my bra off too?” I smirked over his shoulder at him and he shivered, shaking his head no. Too bad I was a bad listener. I shucked my bra and made a big show of dropping it to the floor next to us. Logan let out a shaky breath, knowing what was coming.

We’d been here before.

I pulled his beater out of his pants and slid my hands slowly up his ribs. He grunted as my hands slid over bruises and broken things. I hummed softly as I let my powers unfurl into his skin while I slid his shirt up. I’d learned pretty early on that the more skin that touched skin, the better my boosting worked.

I pressed myself along Logan’s back as I helped ease his shirt over his shoulders and arms. He groaned when the shirt finally came free over his head and joined mine on the floor. 

My arms closed around him, one moving up towards his chest, one circling around his middle. Skin searching skin as he caught my eyes in the mirror. 

“How does it feel?” I whispered against his shoulder. I had aimed for his neck but he avoided me.

“Warm,” He murmured. “Always does,” I pressed a soft kiss to his skin and he shivered again.

Instead of teasing him anymore, I focused on the task at hand, closing my eyes and leaning against him. I could feel my powers seeping into his skin, like sunshine that time we took a bunch of the kids to the beach the summer it was so hot the AC kept going out. I wondered if he ever let himself remember the good times or if he only ever lingered on the bad ones.

Logan let out a shaky breath followed by a deep groan as a bullet pushed free of his flesh. It landed with a metallic thud in the sink, closely followed by a second and a third. 

“Do you know how many there are?” I asked. 

“More,” Was all Logan got out from between his clenched teeth. I adjusted my hold and focused back on my breathing. Healing and boosting were both somehow tied to breath. 

My powers were not a magic fix though either. It still took time. I still remembered the days when he didn’t need me to boost him, but he’d ask just so I’d touch him a little. Back then I’d been shy, always holding his hand, or maybe his arm. I was shy a lot until the day he kissed me the first time.

Then all the cards were on the table…all the clothes on the floor.

A metallic thud on the floor brought me back to the task at hand. I moved my arms to touch different skin and Logan covered my hands with his, holding me so I didn’t pull away. I smiled against his shoulder and playfully nipped him with my teeth.

“And you didn’t want me to touch you a second ago,” I teased him. He growled, low in his throat. The animal was coming up in his chest and I knew what that meant for me. Logan was scared he’d hurt me again, but I knew the risk, and I was eager to face him. 

“That’s enough,” Logan panted, but he didn’t pull my hands away. I waited to see what he’d do, pull away or pull me closer. 

He brought one of my hands up to his mouth and kissed each finger tip. I hummed in pleasure, not so subtly rubbing my suddenly erect nipples along his spine. Another growl and my fingers were suddenly in his mouth.

“Logan!” I chuckled as he nibbled on my fingers. “I know that’s technically skin, but my arm isn’t helping if you hold it up like that,” I tried to pull my hand back and he just grumbled at me. 

“How do you still taste so good?” Logan mused, not expecting an answer. “It’s been years and you still taste just as sweet,” 

“You’re a romantic is why,” I hid my blush from his hungry eyes by dipping behind his shoulder again. Logan pulled me in front of him, caging me between his chest, his arms, and the bathroom sink.

“You should leave now, before it’s too late,” His eyes were hungry in the same way they had always been for me. I reached up and took his face in my hands again, tracing the crows feet around his eyes with my thumbs.

“And miss all the fun?” I mused. He rolled his eyes at me. “And you’re still bleeding,” I pointed out, tracing the one wound on his arm that hadn’t quite healed yet. It must have been the nastiest one because it appeared to be the last one to go.

“Y/N,” he warned. 

“I’ll stop touching you when this one heals,” I told him. “Promise,” it was a baldfaced lie. I wouldn’t leave him unless he bodily threw me out the window. And not only would I not fit out the closest window, he would never dare.

“I don’t know if I can hold out that long,” Logan’s pupils were blown and his smirk was hazy. I knew exactly what he was craving and I was pretty impressed he’d managed to hold himself back as long as he had.

“I can take you, big boy,” I smirked. “Always could and always will,” I pulled myself on his shoulders so that I could press my lips to his. It was just a quick peck, testing the waters. Logan stared at me for a long time, neither of us noticing that the last bullet hole had finally closed. 

But there was still pain in him, still things to heal, so I held onto him, hoping to fix everything I could before he made me leave him again.

Logan finally got himself together enough to push me away from him. I swallowed hard, wondering if he’d be mad that I clung to him as long as I had, wondering if this time I’d sassed my way into making him actually hate me.

His eyes drifted from my flushed cheeks, to my parted lips, down the curve of my neck and the valley between my breasts. I knew they’d seen better days, having drooped with the years, but from the hunger in Logan’s eyes, you’d think he didn’t notice.

His hands moved from my shoulders to my chest and I gasped at the sudden sensation of him pawing me.

“I shouldn’t,” Logan complained into my throat as he dragged his teeth along my pulse.

“I can take it,” I assured him.

“What if I hurt you?” 

“I can take it,” I told him again.

“Fuck,” Logan’s growl tickled my neck as he moved to lift me onto the nearest surface, a sad excuse for a bathroom cabinet that gave way with a crack as soon as he set me on it.

“I’ll fix that,” I told him but he didn’t care, his mouth was on mine before I could come out with another apology. Logan pulled me flush with his chest, off the now broken surface to my feet, and walked backwards with me until he ran into the door frame. 

I giggled a little as he cursed, unclear why this was so difficult. I got us through the door, smiling and pulling on his hands, making sure to keep my skin touching his somewhere. Anywhere.

Everywhere I could reach. 

Logan licked his way into my mouth as we stumbled through the living room, bouncing off the wayward furniture as we made our way to his bed. Finally, something soft to land on.

I was on my back looking up at him. I’d seen him in his prime, when his hair wasn’t graying, when he didn’t keep a beard. I’d seen him when nothing could stop him. And looking at him now, I felt exactly the same as I did back then. Hungry for the animal of him, for the things I knew he could do to me. Lust for the sensations he could cause. And love, still burning brightly after all these years.

Love for the man he was underneath it all.

When Logan didn’t join me right away, I reached up to him and whined, knowing he always liked how desperate I got for him. He shook his head at my shenanigans and I wiggled for him as his hands worked to undo his pants.

“Impatient as always,” Logan chuckled.

“It’s your fault for making me go away all the time,” I countered. His slacks hit the floor and he moved to kiss his way up my bare stomach as he worked on getting me out of mine.

He just grunted as his mouth ran along the skin he exposed when he pulled my pants and underwear down my thighs. I knew it wasn’t the time to bring it up, so I didn’t push him or ask him to ask me to stay.

Logan pressed his face into the soft spot behind my knee and I squirmed as his beard tickled the sensitive skin.

“God you smell amazing,” He mumbled, tracing the inside of my thigh with open mouth kisses. I let my hips relax and fall open for him and his eyes zeroed in on the place that, at the moment, needed him most. With a growl, Logan moved to bury his face in my folds, and I couldn’t help the surprised yelp I let out at his movements. 

There was a time he would devour me for hours if given the chance. A time when he’d want me in any place we were. Broom closets, empty classrooms, offices that we weren’t even supposed to be in. Every hotel and far too many bathrooms. Quickies and love making and slow fucks and even hate fucks now and then. We had everything, but now? 

“Fuck, Logan that tickles,” I wiggled against his face as he breathed me in.

“Shh,” He murmured. “Just let me have this,” 

“I’m trying to give it to you,” I groaned. Logan rolled his eyes at me, but adjusted so that he could pass a long lick of his tongue through me. I shivered at the sensation, a fire sparking along my nerves. I felt his self-satisfied smirk against my core before he moved his mouth against me again. 

“I don’t remember you being this desperate,” He mused, pulling two long fingers through the dampness he’s been lapping at.

“Logan, baby, please,” I begged him to do more than tease me.

“Please what, sweetheart?” Logan’s eyes caught mine as I huffed, annoyed that he wasn’t fucking me yet.

“I want more of you,” I told him. 

“Yeah well, ‘more of me’ ain’t exactly working at the moment,” He admitted. I knew finally growing old had caught up with him in a lot of ways, but my chest ached for him that it came for him this way too. He’d always prided himself on his virality.

“I want any of you I can get, baby,” I smiled at him, reaching down to pull him flush with my chest so I could kiss him again, my mouth opening easily for his tongue to explore. I let my powers unfurl into the kiss, into any skin of his that was touching mine. Trying desperately to let him feel like himself again.

“Hmm,” He mumbled, pulling back slightly. I kissed the side of his mouth, his jaw, as he tried to shake the feeling out of his head. “Warm,” His eyes were suddenly really far away, sleepy. I kissed him again, softer now. 

“It’s ok, baby, I’ve got you,” I told him. He made a grumbling noise in his chest as sleep zapped his strength.

“What did you…what did you do to me?” Logan tried to push himself off of me, but only managed to roll to one side. I held him close.

“Nothing, love,” I whispered, kissing his face again. “Healing is just, just a lot, remember?” 

“But I was gonna fuck you,” Logan mumbled, eyes closed now.

“I know baby,” I smiled gently at him. I had my arms around him still, trying to help him heal some of the damage that the bullets hadn’t caused. “You can fuck me tomorrow,” He tried to move away from me, but he was unable to untangle our limbs before his body told him it was nap time.

I sighed heavily, a bit bummed that neither of us had ended up getting our rocks off, but happy too, that I’d been able to help boost his healing. But I had a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach that he was far worse off than I thought he was. 

When we were younger, he’d almost go into a rut after being Boosted. It was madness but it was always a good time. The last few years, with his body slowing down, the Boosting made him feral, but then he’d pass out for a long time while his body caught back up. The last time I’d been here, he’d fucked me through two orgasms and himself through one, before the sleepiness came for him. That time, he’d lashed out, thinking he’d been drugged. It was like the nights he’d wake up with nightmares, only he’d not gone fully to sleep yet.

Part of me was glad he didn’t try to gut me at least. But my heart clenched at the thought that maybe the end of him was closer than I wanted to believe.

To stave off the tears that were suddenly crowding my throat, I adjusted our bodies so that Logan could use my chest as a pillow. He mumbled something in his sleep, and his arm pulled me closer, holding me like maybe this time he wasn’t going to let me go. I circled his head with my arms, carding my fingers through his hair, happy to be able to comfort him, to allow him to sleep.

For just a moment, it could have been any other day. We could be young again. All of our friends, still alive. I closed my eyes and imagined the sounds of the school. Kids running down wooden hallways, calling after each other. Tears escaped me then, because most of those kids were gone now. And any kids like them, like I had been so long ago now, didn’t have a school to go to. They would be rounded up and killed now. Or taken away to some place horrible. And I knew there was nothing I could do.

Except maybe hold Logan just a little bit tighter, knowing that every fight ever fought for those kids, eventually made its way to him too.

[Another Logan Fic]

[indecenthoney]

As Sweet as She Tastes

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"You know... I never really understood why he had flashback when he ate the rat's pepperoni thing... What the fuck do you mean it's not pepperoni? You know... Ratatouille's dish? The thing he made... His name is not Ratatouille... Remy? Hey! Chill chill... I was watching I promise... Hahaha... But damn... You're telling me a shrimp, fried this rice? Hahaha... Okay okay, I'll stop... So what? You want another gummy? Or..."

It's been some time since me and friend hung out. Luckily, our schedules matched up giving us a couple of days to spend as we please. What better way to catch up and have than to get high and binge Disney movies? I've always been quite a lightweight. I could never seem to focus but every other sense was always heightened. It was a fun little experience. Sometimes I think about this day a lot. And what would've happened if I acted on my urges a little more.

"Hm... Good movie... Mm... Maybe 8/10... Well it's my opinion now, isn't it? C'mon, let's go take a little breather outside... We can watch another movie when we come back... By the way, did you make sure to hide my spare house key? You really gotta start telling me when you let yourself in here... You're always giving me heart attacks... Ugh fuck.. Alright, let's go... I need to stretch my legs ... I don't know how you girls do it sometimes... but I can't sit in place all day... Oh yeah? Stop being lazy... I will literally carry you outside if I have to... H-hey let go... Dude... Seriously... I'mma trip... Ow fuck... I told you... You okay?"

I'm not one for cliches but as fate would have it, I ended up tripping over her. Landing on top of her. Gazing into each other's eyes; completely silent. At that moment, I panicked and tried to pay attention to something other than the look she gave me. As I mentioned, every sense of mine was heightened while high. She smelled of strawberries. Lips coated in strawberry lip balm. Even her personality was as sweet as a strawberry. Despite treating her like one of the guys, she was still a lady. And within an instant, her arms coiled around my neck pulling me in for a kiss. That moment of awkwardness must have felt like an eternity to her. There was a sense of desperation as her lips interlocked with mine trying to seek some sort of reciprocation. My mind was all too hazy to process all of this and I pulled back.

"I... uhm... S-sorry I was... H-hey wait... Where are you going? We should... talk about this..."

Without a word, she rushed out the door with a pained look on her face. I felt deep regret and wondered where it would have gone if I had just been a little more greedy. A little more honest with what I wanted. My mind sometimes wanders back to that day every time I smell strawberries fills my head. Nothing really happened after that day, we never spoke of it either. She had acted like she always has with me. A jovial entity that let nothing ruin her day. Even if we did spend a lot of time together, it felt like I never really knew the real her. Always putting on that brave face; putting people first.

"Sorry? Did you say something? I was kind of blanking out... No, I am not high... I just had some things on my mind... What did you want to talk about? Yeah, dude... You can tell me anything... If it's bugging you then we should talk about it... Oh? Good news... That's good! What's up? You... got a boyfriend? Wait wait wait... since when? You didn't tell me you were talking to anybody... I... well... yeah... You don't exactly tell me everything... but... What? No, I am happy for you... Are things going to change between us? You know like... are we going to hang out less?"

She reassured me that nothing was going to change. I was relieved at the moment, but I started seeing less and less of her. Maybe, this was my punishment. Weeks and months went by without a word from her. I really was glad that she was happy. But I missed her. I thought it was high time to finally move on. See new people. Try new things. Forgive and forget. Or that was the plan. Until one random day, she called.

"Y-yo? It's been a while... No no no... No need to apologize I know you have things to do and you have your own life... How's uhm... the boyfriend? T-that's good... That's good... So what's up? You wanted to tell me something? You're what? No way... You're getting married? Isn't this a little too soon? I... no... I'm happy for you... Y-yeah I'll be there, of course... Are you going to have like a bachelorette party? Oh? My house... Just the two of us? S-sure... Consider it a wedding gift... I'll plan everything... It'll just be like old times... Yes yes, I'll grab your favorite snacks... Mhm... Yeah... I have class until 6 and should be home by 7... Mhm... See you then!"

I really am a disgusting person. I should be happy for her, right? That's what a best friend should feel, but why do I feel so lost? This felt more than just some hangout, it felt as if it'd be the last time I'd ever really see her. And that made me sad. I went about my day; dreading our hangout. I wasn't sure what to say. Or how to act. All I knew was I had to greet her with a smile and survive the night. I could feel myself slowly getting anxious as time went by. I knew I had to face her eventually. The tension increased as my class was cut short leaving me with no choice but to start heading home. I couldn't think straight and before I knew it I was at my front door. It was open. She must've let herself in again.

"Hey... I'm home... I got the snacks... That's weird... She usually rushes over to see me... Where is she? Hm... Probably watching TV... Hey are you-..."

No words escaped my lips. What I saw left me in complete shock. There she was. Touching herself with such desperation. Like she's never known the feeling of pleasure till now. To make things worse, her clothes were scattered all over my floor. Wearing nothing but my jacket which was too oversized for her. Her huffing and sniffing the remnants of my dirty clothing. A little goblin that felt as if she'd struck gold. This was so wrong. But she wasn't in the right either. She was getting married. Why? Unless. Something switched inside of me.

"Sorry... Am I interrupting something? Hey... Don't stop now... You were just getting started, yeah? Well, this is my room after all... Well, classes ended early today and I thought I would get some rest before we hung out... By the way, you have a really bad habit of walking in here... Tell me... Is this what you always do when I'm gone? What would your fiance think if I showed him this video? Of course, I took a video... How could I not? Dude... I'm not kidding... Sure... I can delete it... But I can always show him the mess you made on the bed while wearing my jacket... Hey... Woah there... and where do you think you're going... You think this is all a prank because we're friends but... What you did was a bit scandalous, don't you think? What do I care? No no no... You walked away... and you never gave me the chance to talk about it... And yes I didn't kiss you back then... and I regret it... But we're here now and nothing is going to change that... If you leave now... I really will show your little boyfriend how pretty you are fingering yourself on my bed... What do I want? Oh c'mon... You're a sick pervert, right? I'm sure you have a few ideas to shut me up..."

My cock stiffened. Not because she was on her knees. But because the same sweet scent hit me once again. It reminded me of that night. Her desperation. She left me wanting more. In a way, you could say I was addicted. But then again, I would be lying if I said seeing my best friend take the full length of my cock down her throat had no effect on me. In different circumstances, I would have wanted her to do this. Looking up at me with such love. But right now, she looked at me with such disdain. I couldn't help but push my cock down even deeper as punishment. Watching the little furrow in her brow fade away as her eyes roll back in pleasure. Hearing the quick schlicking of her cunt as she fingers herself silly in such a moment.

"What's with that look, huh? Do you really think you're in a position to show me attitude, sweetheart? I own you now... The sooner you learn that the better... Me? Disgusting? I'm not the one sniffing my best friend's clothes... Aw c'mon, don't be mad... You know you love me... Let's make up for lost time... It's okay... Don't be shy... I don't bite... Here... Lemme help you with that... That's it... That's a good girl... All the way to the back of your throat... Right right... As much as you pretend to hate this... Even now... you're still rubbing yourself stupid... Aren't ashamed of yourself? You really are fucking pervert... Does it feel good? Hm? Taking another man's cock in your mouth? Cheating like the filthy whore you are... While he's at home... smiling like an idiot... wondering how lucky he was to land a girl like you..."

I wanted to see a side of her that no one else did. She was loved by all. Something about this raging slut pumping my cock into her mouth with relent brought me euphoria. It was something only I could see. Did she not feel guilty? No. How could I blame her? Interrupting her like that. She must've been so close to a release. I bet she can barely think with how roughly she's fucking herself. I couldn't help but grab her hands. Forcing her to stop. Keeping her eager. Needy for more.

"And what do you think you're doing? I didn't give you permission to cum... But? But what? You're close? And you think I care? Bad... Bad girl... So needy... Does it hurt? Hm? Me stepping on you filthy cunt? Oh? Was that a fucking moan? Did you really get turned on by that? You really are sick... Aw, what's wrong? You wanna get off, don't you? I'm giving you my shoe... Be thankful... Go on... Hump it... That's it... Rub into my shoe... What a fucking slut... grinding and humping as you please... This is so embarrassing for you, isn't it..? A literal bitch in heat... Gonna cum? Yeah? Yeah? And stop... What? You really think I was going to let you cum on my shoe? I'm not a monster... Shhhh you'll get your release..."

Picking her up from the floor; guiding her onto my lap as I lay against the headboard. Instructing her to sit on my lap as her bare pussy pressed my cock. Quickly I grabbed her hips holding them in place to prevent any movement. Only the constant throb of my cock hitting her needy pussy. Leaving her a whimpery mess; mindless I pulled her by the chin giving her a kiss. Soon after her actions reflected mine. Sloppy wet yet gentle kisses; one after the other. Her hips gradually moving in anticipation. Not caring for the consequences to come.

"Needy little brat, aren't you? What? You don't care anymore as long as you get off? Tell me... You missing my kissing? Too dumb to think, huh..."

My mind flooded with her scent as we kissed. My cock reaching the peak of its hardness as her tongue coils mine. It was just like that night. She smelled of strawberries. Desperation. Her lips tasted as sweet as she was at that moment. If only stayed, I would have been the man marrying her. Those thoughts sent me into a spiral. I became greedy. Kissing her with a more intense rhythm. Licking and sucking her tongue. Plunging myself deeper into her moaning mouth. My fingers slowly creeping toward her ass; gently massaging her hole. Her body jerked up in surprise. I continue my assault to keep her busy as I loosened her ass with my middle finger. The tension slowly increasing as she knew my intent. Making the process easier by sliding my finger in her already wet pussy. And once again working on her rear. Her moans turned breathy leaning her head onto my shoulder as I play with her ass.

"Shhh... Shhh... It's okay... You're doing so good for me... Mhm... It's going to hurt a little, but I'll go slow... That's it... Relax... Such a good girl... Look at that... Taking it so well... Does it feel good? Yeah? Can you take another finger? If it hurts too much... You can bite down, alright? There we go... s-slowly... I'm right here, sweetie... It's okay just breathe... Why don't you lay down for me okay?"

Pulling her ass up into the air as I continually pump my fingers into her slutty hole. Spitting and slapping it. Biding my time. Prepping her for my swollen cock. Unholy sounds emanating from my bedroom. It gave me a certain high. Watching her give herself up for me. Rewarding her patience by running my thumb across her clit; sending shockwaves of pleasure I assault both her princess parts. When it was time, I pulled her over placing her onto my lap.

"You know what to do, princess... It's okay take your time... Slowly lower yourself for me... Fuck me... You're so tight... Almost there... Mhm... I won't move I promise... There's no need to cry... I know it hurts... It's over now... As I promised, I'll let you cum... There we go... Does that feel good? Hm? Me rubbing your clit like that?"

Passing the time by making her cum. A literal wave of pleasure soon flooding my lap staining me and my sheets. A smirk painted across my face as she jerked and twitched on my lap. I couldn't quite tell whether she was covering her face due to embarrassment or taking another whiff of my jacket. I wondered.

"Enjoying yourself? Here... Take it... It's my underwear from today... What? You like my scent, don't you? Here... Don't be shy... You look goofy as fuck with my underwear on your face... I'm sorry I'm sorry... Wait... Are you... actually enjoying this? You are, aren't you? I didn't think you could get any wetter but my scent does the trick, huh? God, you're disgusting..."

Pushing her down into the bed; grabbing my underwear to shove into her mouth. After all, we wouldn't want the neighbors hearing her scream as I fuck her ass. Tears ran down her face as I rammed into her. Her spirit slowly breaking with each thrust. I was nearing my climax until I slipped out. You wouldn't believe the little slut pulling her ass pussy apart to invite me in once again. Fucking relentlessly into the ass I trained. My personal anal slut. My mind went feral seeing my cum leak out of her. I used her over and over and over. Making sure to send a little wedding gift home to her boyfriend.

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After the incident, she never really talked to me or called me. I guess it's a good thing. If she we ever in my vicinity, the scent of strawberries would probably get hard again. It's troubling enough trying to hide that in public. On my way home, thoughts of her lingered in my head. I was surprised to see her waiting outside my house. She looked a bit antsy or well, scared, as if she's seen a ghost.

"You... okay? Woah woah... It's okay... It's just me... What's up? Can you take a deep breath? I'm not going to fuck in the middle of the streets... What do you want? Your fiance... wants to have a gathering? And he invited me? What a nice guy... I'm starting to feel a little bad... Okay okay, that joke was in poor taste... You know what? You tell him... I'll even host it... Tomorrow... 6 PM to whatever time he wants... You guys can even crash at my place for the night... Alright... See you then..."

I kind of regret saying I'll host everything, but it'll be worth it in the end. I greeted our close friends and even met a couple of new people. By the time it was about to start, there they were the soon-to-married couple. It brought an ick to my stomach. But even then, I played the role of the host. Tending to people's needs. Even if I was busy, my eyes would always find its way back to her. Slowly one after the other people started leaving the party as the clock reached midnight. The fiance was already 8 drinks in and knocking down shot after shot. Luckily enough, I could handle my own when it comes to drinking. It pissed me off seeing him get mad at her for ruining his buzz. I held the temptation of cracking my mug over his head. She sat quietly as the two of us drank. His consciousness slowly fading away. I was tipsy, but not enough to knock me out.

"He's kind of lightweight, don't you think? Okay, I may have given him a drink or two... but I didn't make him guzzle it down... So... You gonna babysit him all night or do you wanna make out in my room?

She was reluctant. But trailed behind me as I gently guided her hand. As soon as the doors closed, I pulled her into me and leaned in for a kiss. This was what I was looking for. There was no hate or doubt. She wanted this as much as me. A kiss as sweet as she was. Not caring for her fiance or for the consequences of getting caught. Just appreciating each other's existence. She falls to her knees; kissing the tip whilst maintaining eye contact. The tip of my cock gently pressed against her lips. Guiding it slowly into her. Watching it disappear from sight. A perfect little mouth pussy to fuck to my heart's content. She quickly got up placing herself comfortably on my bed. Bring her ass up to the air as she's done before. Wriggling it and teasing me as she spreads her pussy apart. A devious little girl. To my surprise, she came prepared. Plugged and wet. Waiting for my cock. And who am I to keep a lady waiting?

"Oh? Well, look at you... Fuck me... Wet already? What? Don't tell me you were waiting for something like this to happen... Such a bad girl... Moaning already... It's just a couple of fingers... Whimper and cry all you want... But you've been dying for me to use this hole, huh? That's why you went ahead and plugged yourself? How sly... Alright... For your wedding gift, I'll fill you to the brim, yeah? Aw, what's wrong? That's just the tip, sweetheart... Any louder you'll wake your hubby up... Unless... that's what you want... You know what? That's a good idea... Why don't we show hubby how much of a fun time we're having without him, yeah?"

Carrying her off to the couch where we first left the husband. Still knocked out cold from the drinks. Moans filling the room. Wet and desperate as she hops carelessly on my cock. Moving her hips in a way that's only meant for her husband. An unholy communion of lustful souls. Load after load. Fucking it deeper and deeper into her without a care. She slowly loses her vigor; resting her poor head on my shoulder. Addicted to my scent. Her hips not giving in just yet for a couple more pleasurable strokes. A few shared kisses. The taste of strawberries lingers on my lips.

A grumble and a mumble as the fiance wakes up from his drunken nap. We've already cleaned up long before he was awake. She probed worryingly about his condition only to be met with a nasty reply. Lifting him by his collar I met his attitude with a punch to the face. I'm not one for violence, but if this was her way of treating her I'd gladly steal her away.

"If you ever hurt her... I'll make sure to cut your hands and legs off... Is that understood? Get the fuck outta here..."

-------------------------------------------------------------

The wedding never did happen. I was a bit of a home wrecker but anything to keep her safe. I haven't seen her much since then. It's just been school and work. As I entered my house, I found hands coiled around my neck pulling me into a kiss. She still has a habit of sneaking into my house.

Did I mention I didn't see her much? Woops. I just meant she went to deal with the remnants of her ruined engagement. But I've never seen her happier hogging all my jackets. I could happily tell you, that I can freely enjoy the taste of strawberries whenever I please from now on.

------------------------------------------------------------

With love and lust,

Honey

[theangelsheardyou]

In a ranchuu mood so here's some late night headcanons !!!

Chuuya does all the chores at home. He doesn't trust Ranpo with any of them, but when the latter is trying to apologize, he starts picking up things to clean and cooking (burning) something for chuuya to eat. This is usually how chuuya knows he's done something stupid and/or wants something

The way the ada found out they were dating vs the way the PM found out are complete opposites. One lazy day at the office someone wondered how the gravity manipulator was doing, ranpo said something a little intimate, which had everyone surprised. Ranpo just took the lollipop out of his mouth unfazed and said "Oh you didn't know? We've been dating for three months"

The way the PM found out, there was a plan to ambush the ada for whatever reason that was kept from chuuya (mori had a feeling he wouldn't want to hurt dazai figuring their past relation, but little does he know chuuya would pay good money to kill that tall skinny bastard) but chuuya stopped them in order to protect ranpo. There was a whole "why are you protecting him?!" "Because I LOVE HIM!!" moment like in the movies and everyone just went😦

Chuuya definitely confessed first. It was out of frustration that he had been flirting with ranpo for a while now but he seemed to not be getting the hint.

"I like you you smart little asshole!!!" ".....oh. yeah I knew about that."

Ranpo goes to chuuya when he wants to buy something like how a child asks his parent for ice cream

"Can we get this" "no" "please🥺" "*sigh*.....get my wallet"

Sorry but I'm a bottom chuuya truther and something I headcanon they do in the bedroom (that I've made a fic about a while back) is how ranpo will use his ability to deduct every little stimulation in chuuyas body in order to fuck him better. He gets a lay of the land and nothing gets past him. He knows everything that makes chuuya cry and moan and whimper and scream.

It also helps that chuuya thinks ranpo looks sexy in his glasses

They share clothes but not in a fetish-y "uwu it's so big on me🥺" type. Since they're practically the same size they often get their stuff mixed up, and they don't even realize it until they get home.

Ranpo: *reaches into his pockets and finds money* oh sweet!! Oh these must be chuuyas pants

Chuuya: *puts hand in pocket and pulls it out in disgust* who the fuck left all these candy wrappers in here

Chuuya hates when ranpo makes fun of his hats but finds it unbelievably sexy when he wears them while they fuck. Something about how the weight of the hat drapes his hair against his sweaty forehead just makes him melt

When it comes to Dazai's opinions, I could see it going either way. In one, he's perfectly fine with their relationship, the slug is ranpo's problem now. He'll probably tell him all of chuuyas dirty little secrets too

On the other hand, he could feel uncomfortable that chuuya had moved on, especially with someone he interacts with almost daily. Everytime he looks at ranpo from his desk all he can imagine are his hands caressing chuuyas body, his chin resting on his neck, his nose deep into his orange hair and smelling his expensive shampoo. That was me once, he thinks, and while he may not have wanted to get back together with chuuya, he still gets a bit uncomfortable

Ranpo loves sweets, chuuya hates them. Chuuya loves wine, ranpo says it tastes like fermented grape piss. Chuuya takes good care of his hair and body, maintaining a skin and hair care routine religiously. Ranpo uses those 4-in-1 shampoo as conditioner, soap, and toothpaste.

Ranpo likes to yap and chuuya likes to listen. He can listen to ranpo go on and on about who knows what all day, even being interested enough to ask questions and react. He doesn't realize how important that is to ranpo.

Chuuya loves shopping, and his clothes are all expensive and trendy. Ranpo will only go shopping for clothes if he absolutely has to, and he hates it. It's boring walking around and fitting dumb shirts and pants, it's tiring too. For a while fukuzawa had to buy him new clothes since ranpo wouldn't even if his pants had holes in them. When chuuya found out about this, he forced him to go out on a shopping spree with him to get him all new clothes, and ranpo hated every second of it. But he did like that chuuya spent the whole day with him.

Ranpo is the one who makes the playlists. I like to think chuuya doesn't have a lot of time to just relax and enjoy music, so ranpo is the one who knows more bands or genres. He occasionally makes playlists using insults for chuuya as the titles, and chuuya says he hates it but he listens to them every night they are apart.

They're both okay with PDA, but ranpo is definitely the more clingy one. He'll suddenly manhandle chuuya while they're walking on the street bc he saw a couple walk past them holding hands. He'll be the one to initiate the cuddle sessions and the last one to pull away from a hug.

Chuuya is very independent so he doesn't act as clingy as ranpo does. But when he asks for affection, it's usually really subtle, and it makes him upset if ranpo doesn't see it right away. He's insecure and so his mind goes off the rails, wondering if ranpo just doesn't love him anymore. But ranpo is always there to reassure him.

Arguments are the lifeblood of this relationship, but in a healthier way than it was for skk. For skk, there was a lot of hate and anger involved, that was what fueled the fire of their relationship. For ranchuu, it's easier bc it's more light-hearted and the words are never meant to actually hurt. It's usually insults that don't even offend either one of them, and arguments about small things no one really cares about. But what it's based on is not as violent as skk.

Chuuya def has a higher libido than ranpo. Sometimes he'll suddenly get horny and ask ranpo to "take care of it". Usually it's triggered by something ranpo did, like something he wears, or said, or him acting responsible for a change. As for ranpo, he gets horny a little less frequently than that, but he still gets up on his high horse to call chuuya needy when he's practically climbing up his leg.

They are both young orphans with remarkable abilities, and so they've received a lot of praise for their strength/wit. So when they hear them now, it sounds almost empty, hollow even. They don't get anything from it now. But getting compliments from literally anybody else? that's what gets their hearts going.

Okay that's it for now lol, pls tell me which ones you agree with!! I'm always looking forward to meeting people with the same rarepair as me😁

[usedpidemo]

Update - 2nd year anniversary! (plus a reflection, and future plans).

Hi everyone! π here.

Today, May 13th, is the day I officially opened up this blog and began writing degenerate and immoral stories! 2 fucking years have passed, how time flies. So much can change in a year, and so do some of the stats!

First work: Sandwich - Red Velvet Wendy (published 05/13/21, 4:03 a.m.)

Highest note count: Awards after-party affair - Itzy Yuna (published 10/23/22, 1167 notes)

Number of works published: 80 fics (1 fic every 9.1 days)

500 followers: June 18, 2021 (36 days or 1 month, 5 days)

1,000 followers: October 12, 2021 (152 days or 4 months, 30 days)

2,000 followers: June 18, 2022 (401 days or 1 year, 1 month, and 5 days)

3,000 followers: November 12, 2022 (548 days or 1 year, 5 months, and 30 days)

Follower count: 3,953 followers (5.4 followers a day)

I wish I had something awesome lined up to celebrate this milestone, but I don't have anything prepared XD I've been busy and lazy at the same time. (Is that even possible?)

Actually, yeah, I do have a whole week's worth of cool things lined up this week! If I can even follow through with this one...

Monday: AMA

Tuesday: Reader Poll

Wednesday: ???

Thursday: ???

Friday: ???

I don't want to make the fun section of the update elaborately long, so I just want to say thank you so much to everyone for the support! Even though I'm not as active or as productive as I used to be, your eagerness never wavered, and you guys enjoy me talking about random shit on the side, whether it be song lyrics, Pokémon, or literally posts without any context to them. I love you guys. Here's to another year 🧡

Everything else from this point is a brief reflection and introspection of what I've been feeling since then. You can ignore this if you wish to do so.

So today marks the second anniversary since I opened up this Tumblr and became a degenerate writer. The work I've been putting up is getting worse—in a sexual and filthy way, not objectively—and my mental health has been getter much, much better! When I made the same anniversary post around this time a year ago, I was at an all-time low, mentally speaking. I really felt like I had not much left to give at that point, my skill has stagnated, and I thought there wasn't much for me to improve on. If you asked me if I had any future plans for this blog, I'd say I'd be done by the end of 2022, if not sooner.

It's now 2023, and I believe I'm as good as I can be right now. Slumps happen for a reason, and you can't always win, but it's how you bounce back from the lowest of lows that you reach highest of highs. And I believe I can still get better.

Genuinely, not to sound arrogant, because Lord knows I'm not the best fanfic writer—fuck no—I'm not anywhere close, even in a theoretical top 1000 list, but I do think some of my finest work have come up in my most recent fics. I don't know, it feels more polished and there was more effort and deliberation put into it. The numbers don't lie, either; every single work I published since May 2022 has over 400+ notes, and I've even passed the 1000+ note barrier twice! It goes to show that you guys are enjoying what I'm putting out as much as I love making them, slow and difficult it may be. I can fondly smile at last year's additions to my masterlist and say, "I can't believe I did that."

I do want to apologize if my output rate has drastically slowed down, and if I'm not as active as I was before. It's unfortunately part of the sacrifice needed for better quality control, and also because I have more personal commitments to attend to. 2023 has been fantastic for me so far in almost every department, except maybe physically—I could use more exercise—but that can be worked upon.

I do believe I'm on borrowed time. Again, look at the gap between fics over the past six months ago, and it's only going to widen once I enter my third year of college. I also have to begin considering what hobbies and other things I should do to occupy my free time, so I can be more productive as a person. This isn't to say I'm definitely quitting, but I expect more responsibilities to be shouldered onto me in the future, and having time for myself is going to be pretty much a birthday gift with how rare it might be given, and I'd prefer spending my time off recharging and relaxing instead of stressing over inconsequential or 'fun' things.

There's a lot of people I want to thank specifically, because while I was struggling with my own personal battles, they've been encouraging me to continue fighting and have been absolute lads—and lasses—throughout the past year. When I needed someone to talk to that wasn't my therapist, they were there, and I took solace in their comfort and companionship. I can't tag you guys, but if you're reading this—Chunk, Raf, Peach, Aaron, Sol, V1n, Iz, Ddeun, C.o, Kaede, Frisky, Smite, Shaun, Sins, Jett, Eros, Prael, Ken, Cray, CJ, Sooya, Gray, Svn—I sincerely thank you. God bless each and every single one of you. And to Tim, I really hope you can see this, but I'm truly, truly sorry. I hope we can find a way to bury that fracture in our relationship in the past, and we can reconcile. If not, then I just want closure and peace for the both of us.

So in closing, I want to thank you so much for sticking with me through the bad times and prospering with me through the good, and I'm always humbled that you've taken a chance on me when I started, when I was a hopeful newbie, two years ago. Now here we are. I appreciate every single one of you, be it a fellow writer, a reader, or a lurker.

With grace,

Peter / π

[stranded-ziggy]

Got home from work and tried to draw but I'm just not feeling it so...have some more thoughts since I don't want to go to therapy because frankly I'm too lazy.

So, touch wood but, whatever I was going through in the last couple of months seems to have left and I'm back to feeling a bit more confident and excited for Testosterone but still dreading real life responsibilities like taxes and a dentist appointment next week.

I'm trying to unpack what happened to make me feel like that again...

I think really, it's fun to use labels online and feel like I'm a part of a community but in reality I don't want to transition. I want to just, be a girl and goddamnit be good at it. But I'm just not, wearing make up earnestly makes me feel gross, growing my hair out makes me feel gross.

I feel confident in my short hair (got a long overdue haircut yesterday and maaan the difference it's made), can't leave the house without a binder on and I'm still super self conscious about my wide hips and yet, I just can't really admit to myself I'm actually trans.

I'm afraid of being unlovable, afraid of the people I care about turning against me, afraid I still won't like myself. I have to be really serious about this to take myself seriously and risk the life I only just started building and I've never been serious about anything my whole life.

I'm like Macklemore in that one song where he's adding up the reasons he must not be gay, liking sport and whatever else it was but in my case it's the fact I bought a dress (I probably won't ever wear but it's a colour I like and style I love to draw) and I idolize women like Marilyn Monroe. I put beauty and hygiene on an ultra high pedestal (a flaw, I know, I'll work on it one day when I know how) and sometimes, like what I was just going through, I convince myself I just want to be trans because I know I can't be a conventionally attractive woman. I know that's all ridiculous but I never claimed to have a high IQ, I got just as much brainrot from the internet as everyone else.

In a way I wish I could go back to living in a vacuum like I did when I was a shut in but I know that would just set me back again. But man, having things to lose is scary.

I'm very attached to rural Australia and country life, I probably always will be. Maybe it's just because I'm stubborn but I don't want to go back to the city, I think living standards out here are just so much better, life is just enjoyable. People give shits about each other, I actually have human interactions when I decide to go out shopping. Probably most importantly it's still so un-corrupted by the internet out here, practically no one at work knows what 'cancelled' or 'woke' mean and I love that.

Also, there's so many more queer people out here than in Sydney? It feels like in the city people are trying so hard to conform where out here no one really cares.

Don't get me wrong, the bigots are plenty which is why I bring this up at all. I'm not really scared outside of places people know me though because there's plenty of masculine looking cishet women in rural Australia so I blend right in whether I pass or not. But yeah, finding out people I work with and like suddenly hate me is a horrifying prospect. Enough to make me think I probably won't come out until for whatever reason I switch jobs. Which I hope won't be for a while because I like my work and feel lucky I get to work there.

So yeah, that's where I'm at now if you were bothered to read that, I'm sorry.

I still identify as genderfluid, but in the end I know I have to change things about myself to love myself. I also know there's certain effects of T that would really help me purely from a health perspective, so trans or not I'm trying to get a prescription.

[quiznack]

starting off julance with a quick drabble for the prompt sunshine from @callmelyc's daily prompt list

When Allura had briefed them on Goltuna, the next planet they were stopping at for supplies, Lance had been thrilled.

New Galtuna was a hot planet. Not the exploding volcano or rising magma type of heat Lance was accustomed too on these alien planets, but the type of heat closer to what Lance was used to on a summers day in Cuba on Earth.

As it was just a supplies stop and the planet had a (relatively) human friendly climate, they'd forgone their paladin suits and their cooling capabilities in exchange for their normal clothes. Pidge had been complaining the whole landing about having to endure the sun without any way to cool down, with the rest of the team facing it with the grim anticipation gained from summers at the Garrison in New Mexico.

Lance though?

Lance couldn't wait.

There was just something about feeling that sweating through your clothes, panting for air, burning up completely kind of heat that he had missed. Maybe it sounded weird, but after months of a perfectly temperature controlled Castle and perfectly temperature controlled suits, Lance couldn't help but long for that feeling of sun on his skin that he associated with the boiling summers he loved so much on Earth. Whether it was spending summers playing with his siblings on Varadero beach or bitching about the heat with Hunk at the Garrison, Lance had too many good memories associated with this kind of burning sun to dread it like his fellow paladins had.

And that was why Lance was sprawled out in a field, enjoying the alien-but-pleasant feeling of Goltuna's pink grass as he sunbathed under the planet's warm sun.

Of course, his peace couldn't last for long. Never a break when you're a Paladin of Voltron. Mercifully, the interruption wasn't a Galran attack or civil war or one of the other emergencies Lance had half been expecting to ruin his sunbathing time. This interruption came in the shape of Keith's scowling face cruelly blocking Lance's sun as the older boy lent over him.

"Get up. We have things to do," Keith instructed.

Lance scrunched up his face in protest.

"Coooooooommmmmmmmmmeeeeeeee on Keith! It's just grabbing a few supplies, not attacking a Galra base. We can afford to relax for a second!" Lance whined.

Keith rolled his eyes at him, and Lance stuck his tongue out in return.

"You don't have to be such a stick in the mud all the time, yknow. It's a lovely day out! Lets enjoy the sun a bit, yeah?" Lance said.

"What's there to enjoy. It's way too hot out," Keith grumbled.

"Seriously? You lived in the desert for a year! I know that shack didn't have air conditioning! You should be used to this," Lance pointed out.

"Well I'm not," Keith snapped, "Now can you hurry up."

"Fine, fine, my bad," Lance said, "Help me up and we can go."

Lance stretched out a hand to Keith, who grabbed it and began to pull Lance up.

Oh, Keith, Lance thought, grinning mischievously, you should know better than that by now.

Lance pulled with all his might and Keith, who had not been expecting that much force, came tumbling down on top of him in an awkward heap.

"What the hell!" Keith yelled, cheeks turning red.

Lance didn't respond - he was too busy laughing at the look on Keith's face.

Keith rolled off of Lance, face drawn into a scowl that was made significantly less impressive by the blush still dusting his cheeks.

"You've gotta admit that was a pretty good one," Lance told him, still grinning.

Keith glared at him - but whether it was the proximity or the heat making him lazy, he didn't follow it up with an insult or a punch like he usually would. Instead he huffed and let his head fall back into the grass so that he was squinting up at the sky.

"I really like sunbathing," Lance told him, appropos of nothing.

Keith could recognize the beginning of one of Lance's rambles from a mile away, and usually never hesitated to cut him off. This time he stayed quiet, and Lance was grateful to him for it.

"Feeling the sun on my skin was always one of my favourite parts of summer, as cliche as it sounds. I always looked forward to it," Lance said, smiling wistfully

Keith didn't reply, but that was okay. Lance was more than used to doing the talking for the both of them.

"Plus, I always had to keep my gorgeous tan up," Lance grinned.

He couldn't keep the bravado up for long though - his brag sparked a memory of looking at himself in the mirror in his bathroom back at the Castle and noticing exactly how pale he'd become without access to regular sunlight.

"I think I'm the palest I've ever been, actually. It's been what - seven months in space now?"

"About, yeah," Keith murmered beside him.

"I guess I just missed the sun," Lance admitted.

Maybe it was the feeling of the sun on his skin after so long, or the soft grass beneath him, or even the strangeness of this fragile moment with Keith, but Lance was feeling uncharacteristically vulnerable. Instead of trying to follow up with some deflection like he usually would, he just let the admission sit there between them.

"Well," Keith said awkwardly, "I'm sure the team won't miss us too bad if we stay here for a few more minutes."

Lance lit up, his hand reaching out to land on Keith's shoulder in a silent thanks.

"Just a few more minutes," Lance repeated gratefully.

Lance closed his eyes and watched the sunspots dance on the back of his eyelids as the unforgiving Goltunan sun beat down on the two of them and for a moment, he was almost home.

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Nana rant time because I've been putting up with some shit at work and I need to vent! (also, I'm still writing requests, I should have enough to queue up for the week once I finish this last one. And then I'll work on more for the following week. I'm trying to have a system and a schedule)

ANYWAY! So my shitty ex was finally terminated from the job that we both worked at. I was so happy, the drama was gone, I felt like I could breathe again! It was amazing! Sure, I had to work by myself three days in a row, but the actual store manager is the coolest and allows me to wear my headphones so I can just get in my zone and get shit done.

Everything is going great, and then I get this message from my work friend/work mom. Her daughter got hired. Now... Her daughter is only 17, so she isn't much help anyway, but on top of that, I've heard some shit about her daughter from her. The way she described her daughter for the past 8 months, this girl seemed like an absolute nightmare.

Queue me internally panicking because I have to work with this kid.

So she works with her mom first, and obviously her mom is going to say "she did great!" ya know, it's her kid and all, I guess she's gotta hype her up in some way. So I'm like, "okay cool, this kid works. Work mom wouldn't lie to me about that."

SO THEN SUNDAY COMES

And this kid comes over to me and says "Are you *Nana?" and me, being the cheerful, happy, super nice person that I am, I'm like "Yeah, hi! How are you?" And she just hits me with a "my mom says I'm better than you."

Like... Okay?? WTF WAS THAT SHIT?! Whatever, I'm just trying to work and not be stressed.

So, I continue trying to be nice to this girl. I buy her an energy drink because she wants one, I'm just trying to be a good person. I let her come out with me during my smoke break... And then she starts spewing some unnecessary family drama to me... Which was really awkward for me because like... I don't know this girl other than what her mother has told me, and I've heard some stories... Some fucking horror stories about this kid. So I just do the awkward smile and nod thing. I'm just trying to enjoy my cigarette before I start frying.

I get back inside after my mini smoke break that was less peaceful than I wanted it to be because this kid would not shut up. I start frying my donuts, and she just SHITS ON ME. Everything I do, she's just criticizing it to the point where I'm about to just throw down my frying sticks and walk the fuck out. Everything I did I was apparently doing it wrong, even though Sunday was only her third fucking day of working.

On top of criticizing my every move basically, she didn't do shit?? How the fuck is she gonna say that her mom said she's better than me when she didn't fucking do anything??? She's allowed to have a 30 minute break while only working 5 hours because she's a minor, but then she just takes it upon herself to take an HOUR break because she needed more time with her boyfriend I guess.

I end up working until almost 1 in the fucking morning on Sunday because the kid literally didn't do ANYTHING.

So then I got to work by myself monday, happy as hell, living the life, got out of work by 10pm because I'm just good like that. I don't need help.

But then I have to work with her on Tuesday. So I go in early. I go in THREE hours earlier than my regular schedule, because on top of being stuck with the worlds most conniving, manipulative, down-right shitty, brat, I also have to make everything that everyone else is too fucking lazy to make. I try to ignore the kid when she does come in, I already started frying, so she has donuts to decorate already and I just assume she's going to stay in her fucking lane and decorate them since she's "so good" at it. But no... She starts trying to glaze. And in the process of trying to glaze, she shits on the glaze I just made because it's "too thick". Like bitch, it's fresh! It's not watered down. IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE THICK! FUCK OFF AND GET AWAY FROM MY GLAZER!

I tell her to start decorating. She doesn't want to do that yet because the donuts are too hot. Get good, kid. If you were as good as me, you'd be burning your fingerprints off like I do and filling the fucking donuts. But no. She's a whiny little shit face who doesn't wanna fucking do anything but wants to get paid to stand around and act like she's queen shit just because her mom has been working there for 7 years.

Anywho, I take my little cool down break, which is like 7 minutes tops, just the right amount of time to smoke a ciggy and get back in before my next rack of donuts are done. AND THIS BITCH! She has the nerve to ask ME if she can take another hour break like on Sunday because that was "fun". OF COURSE IT WAS FUN! YOU DIDN'T HAVE TO DO FUCKALL AND YOU STILL GOT PAID AND I GOT STUCK WITH THE WORK. So I told her no, that I didn't want to get in trouble for it, and I didn't want her to get in trouble (because I'm still trying to look out for her for some fuck ass reason), and THIS FUCKING BIIIITCH says "well who's gonna catch me?" ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?! THERE'S CAMERAS EVERYWHERE!!! Spoiler alert : She did get caught because her ass tried to take another extended break. Eat shit, kiddo.

I was off work tonight, and her mom texts me and says "She did really good tonight, she filled the marshmallow, she came back in from her break at the right time." OF COURSE SHE DID! SHE'S NOT GONNA DO THAT SHIT IN FRONT OF HER OWN MOTHER! THAT DOESN'T CHANGE THE FACT THAT SHE'S A FUCKING BITCH WHEN SHE WORKS WITH ME! I DON'T WANNA WORK WITH HER ANYMORE!

Long story short, I'm about to lose my fucking shit and I still have to work with the worlds laziest, brattiest fucking child and I'm overworked, underappreciated, underpaid, and expected to just put up with constant bullshit by everyone. I can't find a new job fast enough.

[cosmicjoke]

Hi! I’m really curious about your opinion on this take https://www.tumblr.com/virgobingo/734694522304512000/ppl-cant-accept-gojos-negative-traits-and-id

especially on the ‘finding pleasure in fighting (with Sukuna)’ part. Because him “admitting” that he wanted to fight just because he got a kick out of it kind of nuked Gojo’s entire character. His goal was to create better world for jujutsu sorcerers. He did everything he could to ensure that his students had better lives than what he had been given. Him saying that he fought only because he got kick out of it made it look like he didn’t care about anything else. It was insulting to Gojo’s character. And it is not people not being able to accept his negative traits, it’s bad writing. Idk maybe I’m reading the whole thing wrong because I’m still half asleep, lol, but I’d really like to hear your opinion. Have a nice day!

Yeah, I don't agree with that at all. Where, exactly, has Gojo ever particularly shown this supposed self-interest that primarily motivates him?

I suppose they're talking about what he says to Geto when they're teenagers, his proclamation that he doesn't want to hear about Geto's moral reasons for fighting, and makes a disgusted face at the prospect of fighting for those weaker than themselves.

But the thing is, is that Gojo's actions belie his words. I just pointed this out, about how he drains himself protecting and looking after Riko, to the point that Toji was able to get the drop on him, something that would have been impossible if Gojo really believed what he said to Geto about not giving a fuck about weaker people than himself. Or the way he does his best to protect the people in the train station, again, to the point of driving himself to exhaustion. The way he genuinely wants to create a better world for his students, etc... I'm not saying Gojo doesn't enjoy fighting. He clearly does. But the way Gege framed it, with Nanami essentially accusing him of ONLY fighting for his own pleasure, and Gojo not denying the accusation, makes it seem like Gojo really was just a selfish asshole the entire time, and all his previous acts of selflessness and compassion were just... for show. That's literally what Nanami says, and I guess Gege just wants us to accept it now. It's like he's saying 'this is who Gojo was, and all the previous groundwork I laid for his character was just BS'. Well, given what BS Gojo's fight with Sukana was, and how it was based entirely on, not misdirection, but flat out lies, with the actual narrative and the character's themselves lying to the audience for nothing more than shock value, with one inconsequential cliffhanger after another, I'm not exactly surprised. It IS bad writing, I don't care what anyone says. It's lazy and for Gojo particularly, it's a retcon of his character, which I can only assume was done as a means of punishing his fans.

It's not that people can't accept that Gojo has some "negative traits". It's that his entire character was reduced to being a dickbag who only fights for his own enjoyment, and all his previous claims to the contrary were just lies he told everyone to look good. It's also the fact that his fight with Sukana dragged on for three months and literally went nowhere. It didn't affect the plot. It didn't affect any other character. It didn't change anything, or lead anywhere. The pacing was horrific, and again, kept employing the use of cliffhangers which, ultimately, were ALL red herrings used to keep the fight going, and for nothing gained or changed, with no real consequences wrought. The audience waited three YEARS for this fight to happen, and when it finally did, it was completely meaningless. We didn't even get to see how Gojo's death impacted his students. He was just dead, and the fighting continued. His demise doesn't seem to have really upset anyone, or had any affect on their mental or emotional state in any, real way. Nor has his death impacted the world in any, perceivable way, this, despite previous statement about how Gojo's birth literally altered reality and spawned an influx of more powerful curses, he himself was so unprecedented in his power. He dies, and... nothing happens. Literally nothing. How is that good writing?

Just from a technical standpoint, JJK has had absolutely atrocious writing for YEARS. Pages and pages of mind numbing exposition, convoluted, nonsensical explanations of cursed techniques and introductions of one and done characters, illogical and inexplicable power-ups for certain characters, off-screened deaths for major characters, on and on and on, and in between, not a lick of actual character development or emotional catharsis or resolution for ANY of them. It's fucking awful. I don't care what anyone says, again. It's terrible.

So even if you don't think it was character assassination to dismiss all of Gojo's previous claims about wanting to give his students a better world and to protect their youth, claims backed up by his actions, to instead make Gojo into just a selfish dick at the very end of his existence in the manga, there's plenty of other stuff to criticize JJK for, and more than legitimate reasons for pointing out the bad writing.

[sophieinwonderland]

An Autopsy of the Syscourse Brackets

Oh, hey! I saved this draft back in April! I figured with a round two coming, I might as post it now!

...

It was about a month ago when the Syscourse Brackets were announced (Future Sophie here: It's obviously been way more than a month now), hoping to bring about a new era of intercommunity connection. It... didn't do that, shockingly. So, let's talk about where it went wrong, and what someone could learn from their mistakes.

Have actual brackets and communicate: Part of the confusion that occurred later was a result of nobody really knowing what going on at any given point. Having actual brackets you can look at is a big part of what makes brackets fun. You can look at the brackets and predict who will be facing who in the next round. These syscourse "brackets" lacked that, which led to confusion, and just a worse feeling overall. Real brackets also assures that the brackets after the initial matchup are fixed and isn't just the creator choosing the matchups each round. And, I mean, I'm pretty sure they did change the brackets as I doubt a 3-way poll was how they intended to end them. And there was some weirdness where they demanded @/traumascumathena write an essay to be included in round 2 which I would normally brush off as a joke between friends but that essay wasn't written and they weren't put into the next round, so... yeah...🤷‍♀️

Do a better job reaching out to both communities: In the end, there was a sea of anti-endos, only a few pro-endos, only one actual endogenic system, and zero mixed origin systems represented in the brackets. Even if not intentional, this gives the appearance of bias.

If your goal is making a safe space, do a better job of that too: Publicly attacking your participants and accusing them of spreading misinformation after already accepting them isn't helping create a safe space or communication between the communities. Especially when combined with the fact that, as mentioned in the last point, the only person you attack this way is the only endogenic systems in your brackets.

These are real people and consent is integral: Two different systems sent confessions to the syscourse confessions blog stating that they didn't want to be included in the brackets. Being included was harmful to both of these systems. Congratulations for the ones who were okay with their inclusion, but not everyone was. And I would like to remind people that this popularity contest did include some systems who were minors. Reaching out to confirm that they were comfortable with this should have been a top priority. At best, this was negligence and they never considered that people might not want to be entered into this popularity contest against their will. At worst, they were too lazy or just knew their brackets would be smaller if people were given the opportunity to not be included. None of these possibilities are very good.

People should feel safe criticizing the brackets: I think the initial framing of the brackets as a fun game to heal syscourse was itself harmful. For myself, I didn't want to criticize the brackets up until the callout post because I felt like doing so might harm the community. But we also see this in the blogs who were included in the brackets against their will. They turned to the confessions blog and didn't make these posts on their actual blogs because they didn't feel safe doing so. And this, to me, is a huge problem. People shouldn't feel unsafe in communicating displeasure towards being involuntarily included in a popularity contest.

Don't. Just don't: If you made it this far, you might be thinking that you can fix their mistakes and still salvage the concept. But none of this addresses the central problem. You can't heal a divide by pitting people against each other in a popularity contest. This was always a bad idea. It never was going to be a friendly competition between people who hate each other. The cheating that happened during the brackets was a direct result of this hostile environment. The results of the brackets made somebody so depressed that their partner felt like they needed to make over 50 accounts to cheer them up. And while I certainly don't condone cheating, I truly feel like this is a situation where we need to hate the game, not the player. Because the brackets themselves created the environment that harmed the system in question to this extent.

The brackets were a terrible idea that were executed even worse with arbitrary made-up rules, attacks against participants, and it wasn't even a real bracket.

For those who do want to make actual brackets, it's not hard to find generators to make it super easy. I found a generator with just a quick Google. Imagine how satisfying the brackets could have been if they looked more like this from the beginning:

Future Sophie:

That's the end of the draft I made in April.

Overall, I feel the original syscourse brackets, despite being billed as something to unite syscoursers, were a poorly handled mess that only served to create more drama.

The nature of the brackets as a popularity contest between real people who hate each other meant that being a drama generator was always all they were going to amount to. But the poor handling of it made that so much worse than it could have been

[sio-lokistiel]

Hi!! So I'm a fairly strong chuck won believer (i have been given some Extremely convincing evidence and I think its interesting to think about so) but I saw a post you made about how that theory disregards cas and jacks arcs and I was just wondering if you could expand on that? I'm super open to interpretations lol and I'm really curious to hear the other side (i haven't seen too much anti chuck won stuff so I dont know the arguments)

Okay, oh boy. I guess part of it is what exactly you mean by “Chuck Won” because I understand it on a censorship level. Yes, Chuck was representing the network. Yes, the network meddled and cut Dean’s reciprocation and we ended up with that garbage finale with pages of [OMITTED] in the script. So, if that’s all you mean by “Chuck Won” then yeah, whatever I guess.

Idk, some people probably feel it’s a legitimate theory simply because Dean died. It seems a lot of the fandom thinks death = bad…and that’s just not the case now that Jack freed the souls. I mean, I can throw quotes from The Mummy and Lord of the Rings at you about how death is the next step in journey. So while I’m no longer upset about Dean dying in general, especially because it was foreshadowed, the way he died was so fucking dumb. That doesn’t mean I think it has anything to do with Chuck.

Cas’ arc was all about self-actualization. His speech in Gimme Shelter explains a good part of it with how he found purpose having a family and becoming a dad, BUT him also realizing that having himself is important, too. Then, oh goodness, we reach the culmination in Despair (The Truth) when he realizes happiness is in the saying, in accepting your truth, both the good and bad bits of yourself. The Empty comes and he reintegrates with his Shadow to become whole and saves Dean, the world, and himself in the process. Yes, that’s a whole bunch of Jungian psychology stuff and it’s a lot to process and I’m probably not doing the best job of explaining it. Most of the Chuck Won theory stuff I’ve seen ignores all that and seems to ignore the canon that Cas IS in heaven. I understand the disappointment of Cas and Dean not reuniting, YET. Corporate fuckery (and Covid) kept it from happening in the finale with the original Roadhouse ending that was planned and then scheduling conflicts and Jensen and Misha agreeing Cas needed more than a cameo kept him from being in The Winchesters.

And Jack. Jack was literally the whole goddamn point. The two big things are he’s possessed and sometimes dead because of this, or he is corrupted somehow. I have never seen a convincing damn argument for either of these things. There’s one post that tries to compare some his mannerisms to Chuck, but is filled with so much straw grasping and reaching I’m surprised the author didn’t need a doctor afterward. Another is that some people project on the poor boy so much and just they don’t like his arc, they want to think something is wrong. There is a lot more Pagan stuff about Jack and the number of mythologies where some god is brought down by being a power hungry dickhead and that comes back to bite them in the ass as a grandchild in Jack’s case removes them from power. There are better people to explain all the Pagan imagery surrounding Jack; my tag #jack is the orphic egg should get you to some really good stuff. I’m also not down to argue about how the last 3-5 seasons are meant to read with a Pagan lens. There was one group who predicted the end of the mothership months in advance and then all of The Winchesters and it wasn’t the people clinging to some white Christian reading.

Last thing, I just personally find the theory really lazy as well. I would legitimately be so disappointed in Jensen and whoever ends up writing the next chapter whether that’s Robbie or someone else if they went that route. Luckily, they are all smarter than that and I can see them seeming to lean into it, but then having the most fabulous rug pull! This is very long, oops.

[deke-rivers-1957]

ECU High - Toby's Cool

"Pop. Ah wanna try out fer wrestlin."

Toby's dad looks up from his newspaper.

"Talk ta Mr. Wade son. He'll tell ya if yer able ta try out. Now grab yer backpack. It's time fer ya ta start headin ta school."

Toby grabs his backpack.

"Ok Pop."

He starts to walk out the door to school. He doesn't live that far, so he manages to get there in about 10 minutes. He's about to use the wheelchair entrance when he stops. He can hear the sound of crying.

"Hello? There somebody out here?"

The crying stops as the person doing so comes closer.

"Deke?"

Deke wipes his eyes.

"Hey, Toby."

"Why ya cryin?"

Deke takes a shuddery breath.

"I just lied to my foster parents."

"Bout what?"

"I failed our math test. Mr. Tallman's letting me re-take it but I told 'em I was coming here early for an orchestra rehearsal."

Deke starts to break up again. Toby just looks at him confused.

"Why's that somethin that's makin ya cry?"

"I can't let them find out that I failed! They took me into their home and made me feel like I got a family. I can't just let them down by not doin' well!"

Toby's brain is working at max speed (by his standards).

"Do they tell ya ya gotta do good wit schoolin?"

"N-no."

"So why're ya thinkin that ya gotta get yerself all upset bout one test?"

Deke tries to calm down again.

"I just don't want them to think they made the wrong choice by adoptin' me."

Toby looks even more confused.

"Over one test?"

"It ain't just one test, Toby! I've been strugglin in math this past month. What kinda parent would wanna have a son who can't do math?"

Toby looks down and says the only thing that he can think of.

"Mah Pop don't mind that Ah can't do yer math."

Deke takes a pause and gets a different perspective.

"I think I get what ya mean, Toby. You always do your best even though you.... struggle."

"Ah'm handicapped, Deke. Mr. Tallman could get bout 10 years ta try ta teach me yer math an Ah probly still won't get it. Does mah Pop care? Yeah but only that Ah try mah best. So Ah try mah best an get help when Ah need it. Thanks ta Rusty Ah've been doin better."

Deke smiles. He's starting to understand what Toby's saying.

"Thank ya, Toby. I feel better now. I'm gonna go take that test now."

"Ok. Good luck wit that Deke."

Deke pats Toby on the shoulder and heads inside. Toby goes back to the wheelchair entrance and goes inside.

"Now Ah gotta put mah books way an try ta find Mr. Wade."

He finds his locker and takes out the key he was given by Principal Gates.

"Ok. Ah need mah gym uniform, mah driver's permit, an mah chem packet."

He takes his time to organize everything. The first bell rings as the hall suddenly fills up with kids trying to get to class on time.

"Good thang Ah came in on time. Ah can jus go right ta the gym."

He makes his way to the locker room just in time for the period bell to ring. He changes in the bathroom as usual but this time, he stops by Mr. Wade's office.

"Mr. Wade?"

The man gets spooked and looks like he's about to cuss Toby out until he recognizes him.

"What is it, Toby?"

"Sorry ta scare ya, but Ah jus wanted ta ask if Ah can wrestle."

He stares at Toby until he realizes what he's asking. He pulls out a couple papers. One's blue and the other's in white.

"Have yer dad fill out this white form and go to the doctor for a physical. They'll fill out this blue form and send it to me once they meet with ya. Try outs are in 3 weeks so I want this done before that."

Toby takes a minute to process this.

"So yer givin me these because ya wanna know if Ah ain't too hurt ta wrestle. An if the doc tells ya Ah can do it, then you'll tell me Ah can come ta try out?"

"Yeah. Now put those papers in yer locker an start yer workout routine."

"Ok Mr. Wade."

He's about to leave when Mr. Wade stops him.

"If ya see a blond tell 'em to get his lazy.... self here."

"Oh. Ok. Ah can do that."

Toby mutters to himself as he tries to remember everything that was said. He makes his way to the workout room and just as Mr. Wade said there's a muscular blond sitting on a weightlifting bench drinking water.

"Uh hi."

The boy looks up.

"Hell ya want?"

Toby repeats what Mr. Wade said.

"Mr. Wade wants ya ta get yer lazy.... self over ta his office."

The boy blinks.

"He tell ya ta say all 'em words ta me himself."

"Yeah he did. Ah dunno why though."

The boy groans.

"Coach is always on mah ass. Ah bust mah damn self every day."

Toby just stares.

"So why the hell're ya here? Coach usually don't have youngins comin down here by 'emselves."

"Mr. Wade says he's gotta listen ta the doctor an have me do thangs that don't hurt mah back. So he has me come here ta use the treadmills."

"Sure's hell don't look crippled."

"Ah had surgery ta fix mah back. The doc said Ah had a real bad case of scalosis."

The boy makes a disgusted look.

"Hell's scalosis?"

"Meant mah spine weren't straight. Tried givin me a special back brace but it didn't work too good. Only thang left ta try was surgery so they done it over the summer."

The boy's expression softens a little.

"Well damn boy Ah had ya wrong. Do ya think yer gonna be able ta do real workouts like me?"

"What'd ya do? Ah wanna be able ta be good nough ta wrestle."

The boy nearly spits out his water.

"Wrestle! Hell ya came ta right person. Yer talkin ta the champion wrassler a this school."

Toby's eyes light up.

"Yer the champ? Wow. Wha's yer name?"

He frowns at Toby.

"How the hell ya not know mah name? JODIE TATUM Mah damn picture's all over the trophy room."

Toby looks down out of embarrassment.

"Ah never really seen the trophies before. Ah ain't ever took the time ta look at 'em neither."

"Now ya know. Ah know ya ain't been here too long so Ah fergive ya."

Jodie stands up and starts walking out of the room.

"If ya make the team don't wait ta ask fer pointers. Ah ain't a complete ass that don't help out youngins wantin ta be as good as me."

"Ok Jodie."

Jodie leaves the room and Toby's now alone.

"Ah like that he takes me serious. Ah think we can be friends."

He gets on a treadmill and starts walking.

An: ECU High is back! Admittedly I struggled to get inspiration for this installment. Toby at this point in the timeline simply doesn't that much to do as he doesn't have any conflict.

Tagging: @mercsandmonsters, @vintagepresley, @thetaoofzoe, @elvismylove04, @ashtag6887, @tupelomiss, @thedaisymaisy, @richardslady121, @arrolyn1114, @theelviseffect, @elvisbooty76, @theladyofmylife, @xanatenshi, @just-another-boring-bisexual, @aliengoth3, @phil2135561, @gayforelvis, @ash-omalley, @eptodaytommorwforever, @wildhorseinkansas, @alienelvisobsession, @comebackep, @presley72elvis, @leopardandstuds, @ellie-24, @heart-of-ep, @thatbanditqueen, @dilfelvis, @be-my-ally, @mydarlingelvis, @myradiaz, @jaqueline19997, @louisejoy86, @peskybedtime, @lookingforrainbows, @kiankiwi, @your-nanas-house, @januarypresley1969, @justrae9903, @codalysssssworld, @burnthheparaphilia, @joshuntildawn13, @briefpandatimemachine, @sillybookmarks, @tacozebra051, @cattcb, @perfectpresley, @vintagegirl50s60s70s80s, @lett-them-eatt-cake, @precious-little-scoundrel, @j-v-9-2, @almightybigbrain, @pinkcaddyconfessions, @miniaturerunawaykid, @msamarican, @hooked-on-elvis, and @doll-elvis.

[canvas-madness-txc]

Sour Candy Kisses

{Swapfell Purple Papyrus x Reader}

"Do you really need all that candy?

Papyrus turned over to meet your gaze. He shrugged and continued to place handfuls of candy into his hoodie pocket.

"YEAH. SANS SAID IT'LL HELP WITH MY 'PROBLEM,'" he replied. It made sense in a way. Papryus did have a smoking problem. You didn't know how an entire month's worth of sour candies was supposed to help. You assumed it was to prevent him from thinking that he should smoke.

Still, you had your doubts. Lazy as he was, Papyrus could be stubborn when he wanted to be. Sans trying to break him out of habits was one of them.

"We're only going out for a few hours. You dont need that much," you tried.

"JUST IN CASE, SNOTFACE," he replied. You groaned at the nickname. Papyrus barely called you by name. It was either "human" or his personal favorite, "snotface".

It was his most overused too. Not only did he call you that. He usually referred to anyone he met as snotface — not stopping at Chara. You wondered if he just liked people's reaction to the nickname, or he was too lazy to come up with a better one.

"Anyways Sans wants us done by now."

"JUST GIVE ME TEN MINUTES."

"Okay," you replied as you made your way back to the living room. Sans stood by the door.

"well?"

"Papyrus said he needed ten minutes." Sans smacked his forehead.

"if only he packed earlier like i told him too we wouldn't have to wait!"The two of you sat in silence.

"WHATEVER BRO, I'M READY NOW."

The three of you piled into the car. It had been a simple outing, just to get out of the house. While you were out, you noticed Papyrus staring at you occasionally. Sometimes, you stared back. He looked away the moment he say you look back. Then after at least 10 minutes of it, he made a face when he saw you looking at him. You turned around go find something else to do. "Real mature," you mumbled. The afternoon went on without much excitement. Papyrus did seem, distant as usual. He wasn't a social butterfly, but he avoided everyone today. Specifically, he avoided you all day. You didn't know why, you never got into arguments with him. Sans dismissed it as his brother being weird, but you didn't believe him. It felt as if someone told you he lied. Your suspicions got the better of you. You went to go find Papyrus.

You did find him. It wasnt hard to miss a skeleton with yellowing bones in a purple jacket. He sat on a park bench. Slowly, you walked up to him.

"Hey."

"HEY."

"Mind if I sit here?"

"DEPENDS YOU GOT MONEY FOR THE TOLL?" You made a face.

"There are no tolls for public benches," you replied. He chuckled.

"YOU GOT ME THERE, SNOTFACE." Rolling your eyes, you sat next to him. The two of you sat in silence for a while.

"DO YOU NEED ANYTHING OR WHAT?" You looked at him.

"No, just wanted to check on you."

"WHATEVER YOU SAY," he said while pulling out a lighter and a sour candy, "OH YEAH. DAMMIT." Stuffing the lighter back into his pocket, he unwrapped the candy and popped into his mouth.

"So... how's that going for you," you asked motioning to his candy wrapper. He looked down at the wrapper and back to you.

"CONSIDERING SANS SCOLDING ME FOR TRYING TO SMOKE EIGHT TIMES ALONE TODAY, YOU CAN PROBABLY GUESS."

"Fair enough." Papyrus stared off, annoyed by something. He didn't say anything though. You decoded to wait for him to start.

"HAVE YOU EVER FELT WEIRD THINGS AND THEY STARTED TO MESS WITH YOUR HEAD," he blurted out.

"What kind of weird things?"

"IF I KNEW I WOULD TELL YOU," he snapped to which you threw up your hands in exasperation. "ANYWAYS, THEY KEEP CLOUDING YOUR BRAIN AND YOU CAN'T THINK OF ANYTHING ELSE SO YOU'RE STUCK IN A LOOP ALL DAY. AND YOU'RE SURE IT'S ABOUT SOMEONE, BUT YOU CAN'T TELL WHAT YOU THINK ABOUT THEM. PEOPLE TELL YOU TO JUST TALK TO THE PERSON. HEH, EASOER SAID THAN DONE WHAT I CAN'T FIND THE WORDS TO TELL THEM I LO—" he cut himself off. You raised your eyebrows in surprise.

"Papryus, do you like someone?"

"YEAH. NO. WAIT— I DON'T KNOW!" He turned away from you. You began to feel annoyed with him. Sure romantic feelings were hard to verbalize, but he didn't have to take it out on you! Silence surrounded the two of you. After a while, Papyrus began searching for something in his jacket. Eventually he found what he wanted and slid it over to you.

It was a candy in your favorite flavor. Underneath it was a small handwritten note.

SORRY FOR BEING A JERK

It wasn't anything big just a short apology. Still, Papyrus didn't hand out 'sorries' easily.

"It's fine."

"CAN I ASK YOU SOMETHING?"

"Sure."

"IF I TOLD YOU A FRIEND OF MINE HAD LIKED YOU FOR A WHILE BUT DOESN'T KNOW HOW TO TELL YOU WOULD YOU BELIEVE ME?" He grinned at you sheepishly. You tilted your head, confused. Then, it dawned on you.

"Depends is this 'friend' a skeleton named Papyrus?"

"NO!" You looked at him, not entirely convinced. "OKAY, YOU GOT ME! I'VE LIKED YOU FOR THE LONGEST TIME! HAPPY?"

"Yeah," you slid closer to him as you spoke, "because I finally figured out what you mean by strange feelings."

"WELL...?"

"Well what?"

"ARE YOU GOING TO REJECT ME," he said. He seemed disappointed, but there was no hint of surprise as if he was used to being unwanted. You refused.

"I'm not going to reject you. I always thought you hated me but I guess I was wrong about that. I'm willing to start over, slowly with you on one condition."

"YEAH?"

"Stop calling me snotface." His face broke into a smile.

"SHOULDA' SEEN THAT COMING. ALRIGHT SNOTF— Y/N." The two of you continued to talk after that. You began to see a new side to Papyrus. A sweet and energetic side, contradictory to his rude demeanor. A side that brought the affection you began to reciprocate. Without thinking, you began to flirt with him throughout the conversation. His face began to light up everything you did, although he pretended not to care. In the heat of the conversation, he did manage to kiss you. Not anything serious, just a small peck on the cheek. Once he realized what he did, he began profusely apologizing while trying to explain himself. You could only sit in silence. Finally, you piped up.

"So does that make you wanting to date me official?" Once the words left your mouth, Papyrus seemed to crash internally.

"I GUESS. KINDA SURPRISED IT WORKED. TIBIA HONEST, I WAS GOOD AT ROBBING PEOPLE FOR CASH. TURNS OUT IT WORKS FOR HEARTS TOO!" You facepalmed at his comeback.

"I WAS KIDDING!" The two of you went back to meet up with Sans and headed home. When you got there, you realized that Papryus was wrong in another way. Robbing hearts is not right, much like robbing those for cash. Though he did not steal your feelings from you. Papyrus had brought it out of you and you were the one to accept them. You quickly accepted this fate of yours at the realization. He may have his issues, but Papyrus had seemed to put the effort into his recovery for people close to him. Which now included you.

[squidkidnerd]

Operation Atlantis Notes - "Coffeemaking and Crime" (chapter 7)

Alright, this will probably be even shorter this time because I'm tired and just glad I finally finished this chapter lol. This actually only took around a month to draft (which as you know, for me is pretty fast lol), but one of my betas was busy so it took them a while to actually get to the chapter and then when they did I was lazy so... yeah. Also happy holidays!

This chapter is a bit shorter than average, but I think that's okay. Like chapter 6, it's also a transitional chapter, but more... plot-based? Chapter 6 focuses a lot on Three and Eight's internal experiences and thoughts, while this one focuses a lot more on external conflicts. Also, it introduces Pearl and Marina! More on them later.

Opening poem: This one was pretty difficult to come up with, but ultimately I like what I came up with. As you could've guessed, it's Eight's thoughts on the octarian immigrants she meets throughout this chapter, and what they must've gone through. What was it like, upending their entire lives to live in an entirely different place? Eight doesn't really know, so that's what she's wondering about.

Atlantis at night: This scene was fun to write. While most of the time, Atlantis is a fun, lively city, we all know there's more to it than that. Much more. I enjoyed eluding to that here, with the city showing some more of its true, creepy colors. I also added some sanitized octarians, because Three, and well to an extent, us, don't really know what they are. What are they? Something... not good, certainly.

Sleepy Three: Yay, some Eight and Three interaction! I feel kinda... bad, because I feel like they haven't been interacting as much as they should be after chapter 5, but I think it's okay. They're busy people, after all. Anyways this was cute and fun, they're both so gay but they do not realize it.

The Octarian Society: Oh look, it's these guys. Yeah, they've been mentioned as early as chapter 3, but we really haven't got anything substantial on them... until now, of course. As for why Azalea is here, well, I thought it would make sense since she's an octoling and also, like a therapist... look, it was more interesting than having just a random guy there. As for the argument that ensues here, I wanted to give more insight into why everyone's so upset about Three. These people are all refugees, they left everything they knew to find a place they thought would be better... but unfortunately, they still carry fear with them. What better target of that fear than an inkling, their greatest foe? Eight doesn't understand this, though, and I just wanted to emphasize how separate that makes her from them. Yeah, she's an octoling, but is she really if she hasn't had the same experiences as them? It's a detail I haven't seen that many people touch on, and I was happy I got to touch on it here.

Vent sneaking and Caesar cipher: Guys look, it's (some) action! Yeah, obviously Three's going to avoid fighting as much as possible because she doesn't want to be found out and captured lol. We also got some classic vent action, which I feel is slightly less implausible because of inkfishs' swim forms? Yeah. Also, the Caesar cipher. I included it as a little twist of "the password is on the sticky note" trope, and also because my sister kept sending me emails in Caesar cipher and my friend (who is actually one of the betas) made a whole-ass decoding spreadsheet. But... as Three soon figures out, unlocking the computer doesn't really mean anything. Yeah, Kamabo is very secretive and thus, they have passwords for everything. Oh well. If only there was someone who could help Three and Cuttlefish with that...

Pearl and Marina: THEY'RE FINALLY HERE!!!!!! Yeah, I had a blast writing this scene. They're both so much fun to write, in particular Pearl. She has a very distinct and expressive character voice to me, and I feel like I did a good job capturing her energy. Man, it's crime that I've never really written these too... quick guys give me Pearlina fic ideas (joke... half-joke). Also, based on this AU's circumstances, it makes much more sense for them to connect with Three and Cuttlefish than Eight and Cuttlefish, which makes me sad because I like when Eight bonds with them, but alas. They meet her eventually.

Annnd that's it! This is my Christmas/end-of-year gift to you all, you're welcome. Hope you all have a happy holidays and wonderful new years! Man, I can't believe it's almost 2024... I still feel like I'm in middle school sometimes lol. My college apps are finally done and I got into my top choice, so yay! I can already feel the senioritis setting in though, lol. Hey, that just means I might write more to keep up my motivation lol. I've already started drafting chapter 8, if I'm lucky it'll be out by February, probably.

Also, I mentioned doing a one-year anniversary thing earlier, but I don't think I'll do that... I'm thinking of a little celebration once we reach the end of part 1, which is only 3 chapters away (!!!). I read a social media fic recently and it was fun, I was thinking of doing something similar? Don't know how it would work though. Let me know if you guys have any ideas!

[anti-katsuki-lounge]

I know I just sent an ask telling you to rest but since you'll answer these later anyway I couldn't resist sending this in because of something that happened sjsjsj

What happened is irrelevant, it just made me come on here- and I apologize in advance because this will be kinda long

I'm honestly so tired of people defending bakugou's (no capital B for you mf) actions, comparing it to their own and making it sound as though it's okay (baby you make yourself look even worse) and making absurd theories about his reasons for bullying Izuku that I didn't even know existed until I came across this blog and as a former bully (who deeply regrets it and hates bullying of any sort) I'm here to give my two cents. Forgive me if it's horribly structured and/or incoherent because I'm exhausted as well. I'll also be comparing him to me, and while I know everyone's different, this is mostly just to show what could have happened

To the people who say bakugou's changed for the better, you're entitled to your opinion so here's mine- no he hasn't. He really hasn't. He hasn't even tried. If I could half ass an effort with half an ass of half an ass it wouldn't come near the fraction of an assed effort he's made, if he's made any at all. He's just a bit mellower if you can even call it that, and he's been told he's a bitch with a garbage personality. Nobody told me that, I saw what I was because I met people that set a better example for me- I compared their behaviour to my own and got over myself. I realised what I was doing to the people I loved- if it could even be called love- and I consciously mended my behaviour, for months, because I had to. My vocabulary changed, my body language changed, the way I spoke changed, my tone changed, my texting style changed, my perspective changed and (most importantly) my reactions changed. And I'm honestly much happier now. I'm terrified of relapses even though it was years ago. I'm a pretty sunshiny person tbh, I shit glitter and everything, I'm your free therapist but yeah, that was me and I hate it. And if I'd been told my personality was garbage the way bakugou has been, I'd have taken at least a moment to reflect.

After I decided to mend myself, I'd recoil whenever I did something harsh, or said something harsh, no matter how lighthearted. Seeing my friends turn nervous or prepare themselves for an argument broke my heart because I caused it. I apologised multiple times, with long paragraphs, because I wanted to let them know in any way I could that I really am trying and I really did love them.

And you know what? At first it was so tempting to relapse when things got hard. I knew what to do to manipulate them. I knew what to do to scare them. I know how to do it all and I loathe myself for not being a person of comfort.

At first it was tempting, because it was so much easier. It would have been so lazy to do it. bakugou is so, so lazy for not even trying. I felt as though I could control anything. I thought I could always keep them the way I wanted. The amount of control you can have over people frankly gets to your head- and for the people who argue that Bakugou was abused, I've been abused and bullied as well and it is not. An. Excuse.

For the people who like to think he did it to protect Izuku- please. Please. Even you can't think that's true. You're entitled to what you think, but for me and the bullies I know that was never the reason. A friend once told me he was mean to me to rein in my behaviour because I'd just get bullied again, that he was doing it to protect me and I laughed in his face because both of us know that both of us know it's not true.

bakugou liked the kick he got out of feeling superior, smarter, faster, more influential, more confident and that was it. bakugou enjoyed it because it was easy. It was easy to not feel like crap when all he had to do was bully some kid to assure himself and that was it. He's lazy.

And honestly- being a nice person is a discipline. *That* is not easy. Izuki is amazing for what he does. It's hard for me to know what to say. It's hard for me to manage my time to I have enough to help others. It's hard for me to see others in pain. I've caused so much suffering and suffered so much I can't stand to say any more of it. It sucks because my empathy causes troubles for me- but I'd rather deal with that than being an asshole

And change is entirely possible y'know? I mean yeah, if Izuku wants bakugou out of his life he should absolutely cut him off, but if he wishes to allow bakugou to remain with him he absolutely can. And bakugou (I'm getting tired of spelling his name out, I feel very petty sjsjsjs) can change so much more than this. I went from being a bkg to being the complete opposite and it didn't take as long as you'd think tbh. It's just that bkg does not regret his actions enough, if he regrets them at all. I've cried and tried and come out a very different person and it's frustrating to see someone so stagnant- and worse, so loved.

I have a massive migraine so I can't go on much further, my apologies :'). I also won't proofread this and I have a lot more to say, but I can't recollect it all. It's just so goddamn frustrating to see this guy pop up onscreen eVERYWHERE. He is so loved, Hori spoils him djsjjs

I just want to watch the anime for the sassy blond, not the blond bully sheesh 😩

Anyway, drink lots of water and rest. I hope you feel way better <33

100% agree on all of this. Also, it may not mean much coming from a faceless stranger, but I’m proud of you for your growth 😊. I’m glad you’ve taken the time to really reflect on yourself and your relationships. I hope you continue down this path because great things will happen to you.

[xavieryaa]

i'm so sick (but not of you) // taejoon

rating: pg

genre: sickfic, established relationship, fluff

word count: 2k

summary: Namjoon and Taehyung have their Valentine's Day date perfectly planned out, and as Taehyung wakes up, he's more than ready for the special day ahead of them. Or at least, they had their day perfectly planned out before they realize Namjoon's sick and can't even bring himself to escape the confines of their bed, but just because their plans are ruined doesn't mean their day is.

author's note: this was originally posed on ao3 for valentine's day 2022 :)

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Taehyung knew something wasn’t entirely right from the fact that when he woke up, Namjoon was still snoring loudly next to him, dark brown head of hair tickling his nose to the tune of his boyfriend’s rhythmic breathing. It was peaceful, yes, but off. Taehyung wasn’t the biggest Valentine’s Day enthusiast, but Namjoon certainly was, and he had their special date for today planned to a tee, to the point where Taehyung could feel himself growing fond of the holiday too. They would wake up earlier than usual, make a nice breakfast together (or, more accurately, Taehyung would do most of the cooking while trying to keep Namjoon from burning the apartment down), and head to their favorite barbeque place for lunch, a feat they could only manage because Namjoon made the reservation an entire month in advance since the place was insanely popular, and for good reason in Taehyung’s opinion. Just the thought of it made his mouth water. 

Or at least, that had been the plan, but right now it’s only 20 minutes earlier than they would normally get out of bed on a lazy weekend, and Namjoon’s still facing the other way beside him, and strangely enough he seemed to be…shivering. Taehyung frowns - maybe he had hoarded the blanket a little too much when he slept last night - but decides that if Namjoon’s not going to be the one to lead them through their plan, he’s going to do it himself. Gently, he gets out of bed, slowly walking to the other side, pushing the hair away from Namjoon’s forehead and placing a kiss on it to wake him up. After only a moment of contact, though, contact that would have normally been blissful, he pulls away as Namjoon groans softly.

Namjoon’s skin was radiating with the inferno of a fever, the heat of his forehead burning on Taehyung’s lips and juxtaposing the cool room around them. As Taehyung lays his hand on his cheek, he discovers that it’s unusually hot as well, but despite that, Namjoon is shivering . If he had had only a hunch that something was off before, he’s sure about that now. 

Namjoon tugs the blanket snugly around his body, head half covered by the dark cloth. 

“Cold…why is it so cold in here…?”

The room was perhaps a degree lower than the average room temperature, considering the two men both slept better that way, but cold it was not.

“Namjoon, are you okay?” Taehyung asks, rubbing Namjoon’s back through the comforter, already knowing the answer wouldn’t be yes just by staring at the cocoon of blanket below him.

“It feels like I’m stuck in a freezer, so no, not really,” 

“Are you sick?”

“I…think so, yeah. I’m definitely not healthy, at least,” Namjoon’s voice is a bit muffled, the blanket pulled over most of his head now, seemingly desperate to stay warm. Taehyung continues his mini-massage before pulling his hand away, to which Namjoon makes a small mutter of protest. 

“I’ll make you some soup and get you some medicine, okay?” He can tell Namjoon nods by the slight movement of his messy black hair before Namjoon peeks out from under the covers to give him a smile. 

“Thanks, Tae,”

“Of course, Joon. I can’t let my boyfriend be miserable, can I?”

“Nah, you’d never. You love me too much for that,” Namjoon’s smile is now a playful smirk, and Taehyung ruffles his hair lightly. 

“Yeah, and you know it, too. Be right back,”

When Taehyung does return, a couple of pills clutched in one palm and a steaming bowl of soybean paste soup in the other, all that’s changed is that Namjoon has rolled over to what’s normally Taehyung’s side of the bed, still without a single centimeter of skin below his shoulders left to face the cold air outside the comforter. Taehyung honestly thinks it’s adorable, but Namjoon would deny it if he said so, trying (and failing) to hide the smile and blush creeping up his face. He always did; it was just how he was. 

“You might want to loosen your cocoon a bit, unless you plan on eating like some sort of T-rex,” Taehyung comments teasingly, placing the hot soup on the nightstand by the bed and the medicine next to it. 

Slowly, still shivering a bit, Namjoon grasps onto the bowl, hissing a bit at its temperature before peering down at its contents. “Hangover soup?”

Taehyung shrugs. “Close enough. I know how much you love it, anyways,”

“You know what I love more?”

Namjoon’s pulled this a thousand times, and the answer is always the same, but Taehyung doesn’t hesitate to indulge in it for the thousand and first time. “What, Joon?”

“You,”

He shakes his head as Namjoon begins to laugh, lifting the spoon up to his lips and sipping lightly on it. “Do you ever think that’ll get old to you, or do you plan to keep saying it until we both grow old and die?”

“I’m planning to do it as long as it makes you smile,”

“So the second option, then?”

The mattress dips as Taehyung settles down at the edge of the bed, legs crossed and hand reaching out to tuck the hair that’s slipped in front of Namjoon’s face as he starts to scarf down his soup behind his boyfriend’s ears. “I guess we’re not going to that barbecue place after all, huh?”

The clinking of the metal spoon against ceramic comes to a sudden stop, Namjoon’s head snapping up to look at him, guilt written across his features. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin it. I know you were looking forward to going,”

Taehyung quickly shakes his head, rushing to grab Namjoon’s hand and squeezing it to reassure him, trying to fix his mistake. All the things he could have said, and the first thing to pop into his mind was to comment on the fact that their plans were disrupted. Way to go, Taehyung, he thinks, way to go .

“It’s not your fault, Namjoon, you didn’t choose to be sick today. All I really wanted was to spend time with you anyway, I’d rather be here with you than the world’s best restaurant with anyone else,”

“But you’ll get sick, too, if you stay near me too long,” Namjoon’s frown deepens as his gaze meets Taehyung’s.

“I’ll be careful, don’t you worry. Just let me take care of you, okay, Joon?”

That seems to calm Namjoon’s conscience as he nods, taking a deep breath as his expression returns to a more neutral state. Taehyung peers into the bowl, which is now empty, and gently takes it from Namjoon’s hands and places it back on the nightstand. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Namjoon’s mouth open in a yawn. “You tired?”

“Not really, since I just woke up. Just need to lie down a bit. It’s cold, everything hurts, being sick sucks ,” Namjoon’s words have been reduced to an annoyed groan by the end of his sentence as he flops back down onto the bed, coaxing a giggle out of Taehyung’s mouth at how he still looks endearing. Namjoon grips the blanket, pulling it back over himself before struggling to get the edges under his shoulders, presumably trying to keep in all the body heat he can. Taehyung steps forward then, tucking him in tightly, his hands moving against Namjoon’s hot ones. 

Namjoon yawns again, his eyes drooping slightly even as he tries to force them open, shuffling around before settling down.

“So you’re not tired, huh?” Taehyung can’t help but smile, can’t stop himself from teasing just a bit after Namjoon had so quickly contradicted his own words. Namjoon looks like he’s about to retort, opening his mouth, but closes it again quickly, allowing his head to plop onto the pillow. Taehyung’s prepared to sit there until Namjoon falls asleep, which doesn’t seem like a long way off, when his voice, muttering and groggy, breaks through the air. 

“Flowers. I bought you flowers. Yesterday. I was planning to give them to you today,”

Taehyung leans forward again, eyes widening as he sees Namjoon’s sleepy face staring at him intently, or as intently as he can when he’s only about half awake at the moment. 

“Could you…go get them for me? I put them in the cabinet on the left,” Namjoon’s words get clearer as he rolls over, careful to keep the blanket snugly over his body. “I wanted to see your boxy smile.”

It feels like an unusually long time that Taehyung stands there, mouth dry and brain operating at the speed of dial-up internet, not quite sure what to do to express the wave of shock and love washing over him before he ends up just nodding frantically, practically running out of the room and clumsily yanking open the cabinet, pretty purple flowers greeting him, along with messy wrapping on the stems that he’s pretty sure Namjoon did himself. A giddy smile takes over his face as he holds them, observing how even with Namjoon’s tendency to break whatever he touched he had still put in his best effort to get Taehyung something romantic, in his favorite color no less. 

His smile hasn’t faltered a bit by the time he returns to the room, nor does he try to stop himself even when his cheeks start to hurt, not with the way Namjoon’s eyes brighten the moment he walks in. Namjoon’s always looked at him like he was someone special, like he was the most beautiful person in their world. It’s times like these where he would normally wrap his arms around his boyfriend tightly, savoring the feel of Namjoon’s warm chest next to his and how it all just felt right when they were together. 

But regretfully, he can’t, not unless he wants to risk getting sick himself (which he most certainly doesn’t) by getting closer than necessary to whatever germs lurked there. He settles for sitting beside Namjoon again, patting his soft cheek and admiring his beautiful face, always more gorgeous to Taehyung than any flowers he had seen. 

“You really are the best boyfriend I could ask for. God, I want to kiss you so badly right now…” 

Ever so carefully, he thumbs over Namjoon’s bottom lip, and as Namjoon shudders he’s not sure if it’s from the fact that he’s sick or from the small touch, but Taehyung wants to believe it’s the latter. He wants to believe he has the same effect on Namjoon that Namjoon still has on him no matter how far they’ve gotten from that original honeymoon phase. 

“The feeling’s mutual,” 

Seeing Namjoon’s slight pout and hearing his clogged-nose sniffle as he finally closes his eyes again, Taehyung can’t resist lying beside him, reluctantly leaving the blanket to separate them as he curls his arm around Namjoon’s waist. Namjoon’s body stiffens for a moment before he leans into their snuggle, and Taehyung’s sure that if he were to sit up again he would see Namjoon’s signature satisfied smile. 

“What was it you said about being careful?”

Taehyung’s a bit surprised that it’s Namjoon’s teasing voice which breaks the comfortable silence and not the soft snores which he had expected, but he quickly responds with a squeeze of Namjoon’s cheek, and he can practically hear his boyfriend rolling his eyes at the habit Taehyung had never let go of. 

“Yah, shut up and just let me take care of you. I’ll be fine,” 

Namjoon’s too smart to be convinced by just that, they both know it, but for once they choose to pause their trade of playful pokes and instead merely appreciate the company of each other. Despite the unexpected circumstances, despite the fact that Namjoon could probably use a tissue, Taehyung genuinely couldn’t think of a universe where he would do anything else if it wasn’t with Namjoon. And so, as the predicted snores interrupt the air and Namjoon unconsciously leans into his arms, Taehyung feels himself drift off as well, and in the end, he doesn’t entirely care if he gets sick if it’s to make his boyfriend feel just a bit better.