#these are not fixed ideas like I've written these down for myself but it's still really brainstorming

[kishimotomasashi]

There’s an AU I have, Team Hebi-centric, in which Obito never tells Sasuke the truth about the Uchiha Clan massacre (because he died where he was supposed to: underneath the rock. The Kyuubi attack was an accident of poor sealing while Kushina was giving birth) that I’ve been mulling over for a while. I don’t think I’m gonna get it written any time soon so I might as well share the ideas I had in mind!

Setting?:

After he’s killed Itachi, Sasuke is first found by Team Hebi and not the retrieval squad 2, so they hide away in a site where they can’t be found

Sasuke after the fight is kind of... unresponsive, more than usual, for a few days. The others get it, and give him the space he needs, but also Suigetsu tells him he needs to figure out what he’s gonna do next soon so they know whether to hand him back to the Konoha group or to find another mission to do while they’re still a team

Sasuke isn’t particularly inclined to head back home. He doesn’t think he can just go back and pick up where he left off-- and he suspects Team 7 will insist that he can, but as far as he feels, there’s too much baggage associated with the place already. Sasuke’s lived his life in a way where he’s continuously going back to his grief as a motivator, but now that there’s no obsessive focus on revenge behind it, and just grief... he doesn’t really want to deal with that. Going back home means going back to the compound means going back to the graves, and he doesn’t think vestigial affection from a time where it briefly looked that he could ever think of anything else would be enough to prevent the pain of it.

So his choice is that he stays with his new team, and that their next mission will be helping Suigetsu collect his swords.

The... plot?:

The idea is to focus on each member of Hebi, and have them wonder about their place in the world now that they’re so removed from the Hidden Village system.

Suigetsu’s the only one who starts off having plans to actually re-enter that world, but his hopes are dashed because due to the Akatsuki’s actions, there’s an increased hostility towards rogue shinobi in every village. In this AU, since Hebi are never called to capture Killer Bee by Obito, Kisame ends up doing it, actually succeeding, and the Raikage directs his anger towards Kiri to get its shit together concerning their nukenin. This + Pain’s destruction of Konoha means pardons are off the table for any nukenin, and any shinobi, regardless of what they actually do, working outside of the Hidden Village system becomes automatically suspect. Naruto and co. try to argue Sasuke shouldn’t count since he killed Orochimaru and Itachi but ofc Danzo isn’t having it.

Since they’re all on the run anyways, Hebi stick together, and their lives are spent taking any mission they can from whoever’s willing to pay to sustain themselves. They all grow closer, as a result, they learn about each other, and find out they have things in common. Little by little they start to empathize with each other.

Juugo and Karin, starting out aimless, find traces of their own origins little by little during their travels. And so along with helping Suigetsu find his swords (that he’s still looking for despite his situation with Kiri because fuck them anyways, he trained his whole life for this, and he will cut Chojuro’s arms off to steal his if he has to), they’re also looking for every trace of Juugo’s clan they can find and they pay a visit to the Land of Eddies for Karin’s sake, too.

Also during their travels, they meet a lot of different people of different backgrounds: nukenin turned civilians, many civilians who don’t few the Hidden Villages and/or the 5 shinobi countries and their Daimyo positively, people from countries/villages destroyed by the shinobi wars, etc. They learn through the eyes of others how shinobi violence is perceived, how it ruined so many of their lives, their own complicity in it, and... it’s a lot to process. It’s more difficult for Suigetsu, Sasuke and Karin: Suigetsu and Sasuke because they were raised shinobi and within the Hidden Villages, Karin because she has an aversion to empathizing with people in general since she had to stop doing it entirely to survive working under Orochimaru. Juugo has a better time understanding and accepting that because he was shunned by most people to begin with, and doesn’t have any particular attachment to the Hidden Villages anyways. In the end they all register what they’ve learned though, and Sasuke and Juugo in particular are more inclined to help the people they meet in their travels all they can: rescuing people from human trafficking, simply helping people in villages/towns they briefly stay in about their day-to-day activities, teaching people what they can about chakra so their day-to-day activities are easier, etc. Local kids who only know how to murder and do violence unexpectedly become humanitarians. They still sometimes do murder and violence though, but like in the productive way, like murdering the people who were selling kids to Orochimaru.

I intend for Sasuke to eventually learn the truth about the Uchiha Clan Massacre evetnually but he learns it only after experiencing all of the above. He learns it through Danzo specifically, but I haven’t worked out exactly how that happens yet. Anyways that firmly keeps him out of Konoha and with the collaborative effort of him, Karin, Suigetsu and Juugo, Danzo dies.

That’s about all I have on this, for now. I’m not as sure on how this story will end as how it begins and develops.

[luxtrys]

ani just screams corruption kink i feel so dizzy

AHH U FUCKING GOT ME WITH THIS (added a bit of innocence kink because i can't handle myself) also got carried away like i always do, sue me.

also didn't want to write any p in v because i've already written a first time with anakin fic that knowing me would probably turn out super duper similar to this. it's right here if you're interested!! ♡

pretty baby, best friend!anakin skywalker x reader (18+, smut)

you were panicking. you tried to keep your short uncontrolled breaths at bay as you made your way down the halls of the jedi temple. you nearly tripped over your own feet multiple times, your body carrying you straight to anakin's quarters like you were on autopilot.

you had known anakin since he arrived at your home planet of coruscant when he was nine years old. you were only a year younger than him, but you were always a bit naive and innocent, floaty as anakin would call it, so you always felt like he knew best. like he was in charge and in control.

naturally, you felt like anakin knew your body and your feelings even better than you did. so when you felt odd tingles rise in your downstairs area, you didn't know what was going on in your own body. but you knew only one person you could go to, because after all anakin was your best friend.

you tried to ground yourself as you rested your hand on the door handle to anakin's private chambers, closing your eyes for a moment and breathing in and out in a sequence. you slowly opened his door, peeking in to see ani's shirtless figure on his bed, his eyes glued to the book in front of him.

as you stepped in, his head turned in your direction, a handsome smile gracing his face as he quickly bookmarked his page and made his way over to you. "hi angel, how was your day?" he asked, his heavy aura engulfing you when his arms wrapped fully around your body and he bent down to rest his head on your shoulder.

he quickly rose back up when he didn't feel you hug back, you were always hugging anakin, so something was definitely wrong. guilt washed over his face for not noticing your quivering lip and watery eyes.

"baby, what happened?" he asked, rubbing his thumb on the side of your face to try to offer you any bit of comfort he could give. "hurts ani" you whined, taking your palms and placing them on his chest, trying to push his body away from yours as the contact made your brain even more fuzzy than it already was.

"what hurts? did you trip? did someone do something to you?" he glanced over your whole body for any bruises or visible marks, even going so far as to kneel down slightly to gaze over your thighs because you were almost always falling over. your statement nearly gave him the shivers, the mere thought of something happening to you made anakin go crazy, and you knew that.

"no-no didn't fall." you shook your head, still pushed up softly against the wall in, what to him, looked like clear agony. "angel, you gotta tell me what's going on so i can help you, yeah? can't fix a problem if i don't know what it is"

you were embarrassed, because as innocent as you were, you knew that private parts were private, and you didn't know how he was going to react to sharing information about the feelings in your panties. but as conflicted as you were you needed these tingles to stop.

so you took his wrist, guiding his hand up your thigh and past your skirt, resting it to cup your heat through your panties. he looked up at you in realisation, biting his full bottom lip softly as his eyes narrowed in on you like a predator looking at his prey.

"it-it started yesterday when you came back from training and we were cuddling. i don't know what's happening ani, is there something wrong with me?" he let out a small 'fuck' at your statement, cursing himself for not noticing your state sooner, like the way your thighs were clenched and how you clung to him. even though he had known you for more than half of his life, he had no idea that you didn't know anything about the feelings you were having.

"no baby, there's nothing wrong with you. but you need to trust me if you want me to help you, ok?" he tried to be as soft as he could because he knew if he was too quick or aggressive in any way, you would turn into a pile of tears and embarrassment. you nodded with teary eyes, melting back into his touch and wrapping your hands around his neck.

he took this as the chance to slid his hands on the back of your upper thighs, lifting you up effortlessly as your legs wrapped around his waist. he swiped his thumb across your cheeks, softly wiping the tears that were running down your face, cooing to you to stop crying, and that it was all okay.

anakin placed you softly down on his bed, resting your head on your favourite pillow and kissing your bare midriff as he positioned himself above you. goosebumps trailed your skin as he slowly unzipped your skirt, maintaining eye contact with you the whole time. you couldn't even describe the feelings you were experiencing as you ended up only in panties, socks and anakin's shirt on his bed. in all fairness, you slept like this with him all the time, but with his hands toying with the waistband of your pink underwear, this felt a whole lot different.

"i'm gonna touch you right here princess, is that ok?" he said as he placed his finger right to your heat through the thin cotton on your underwear. it wasn't as though anakin was an unserious person, at all, but right now, you had never seen anakin look so stern in your life. you nodded quickly, ready for him to cure this unsettling feeling in your core. "words baby." he replied to your nodding.

"yes anakin, its ok." you giggled, using his full name to annoy him. it worked. you watched as he pulled your panties off, the cold air making you shiver. after pulling them all the way off your body, he threw your underwear somewhere in the room, too focused on the site in front of him to care.

"can't believe you're letting me do this baby, been dreaming about this pussy for years" he wasn't lying, he had been thinking about what you would taste like, feel like, moan like for years. he always knew you were innocent, and he did a lot to keep it that way, but the way you came to his room, thighs clenched and clueless at these new feelings made his dick strain in his pants.

but he knew you weren't ready for all of him just yet, because not to be obnoxious, but there was no way even a quarter of his cock would fit inside of you without making you scream in pain.

he leaned forward so his head was now between your legs, licking a thick stripe up your folds as you threw your head back in pleasure. he nearly let out a groan at the taste of you, dipping back down into your heat and moving his tongue all around your pussy.

"oh my- ani!" you had never felt a feeling like this ever before, like you were on a constant wave of euphoria that you were never going to come off of. he flicked his tongue on your clit multiple times, watching attentively as he made you putty in his hands.

he continued eating you out for what felt like hours until you were practically sobbing with pleasure. "stop fucking squirming" he spat, placing an iron grip on your waist as you moved below him, seething like you were holding the most desirable thing in the world away from him.

he took the time while he threw your legs over his shoulders to smile at you, his chin and lips practically glistening from your juices, making you whine. "makers, you taste fucking heavenly baby, can't believe you were keeping this from me" he groaned, his tongue now reaching unimaginable places inside of you as you felt even less grounded with your legs stretched over his shoulders.

"ani s-stop! feel like i'm gonna pee" you whined, desperately trying to push his head away from your core as you squirmed in embarrassment. "you're not gonna pee baby, you're gonna cum. that's a good thing yeah? just let go for me." you nodded unsurely, biting your lip as you let go.

you tried to muffle your moans as you felt the most immense feeling of pleasure you have ever experienced, scared you were going to wake the whole jedi temple. anakin flicked his tongue up and down your folds, exploring every inch of your heat as he worked you through your orgasm, wishing he had his camera to capture the look on your face.

"god baby, you're so pretty like this" he sighed, pushing himself up as he hovered above you. he passionately kissed you, letting you taste yourself as you whined. you let your head lull to the side of your pillow, momentarily shutting your eyes and only opening them as you felt anakin wipe a damp towel down your folds. he was smirking at you as you finally looked at him dazed, running his tongue across his bottom lip teasingly.

"can't believe i finally corrupted you pretty baby."

[baek-at-it-again95]

We Know

Pairings: park seonghwa x fem reader x choi san

genres/content: action, agent au, mafia au? rivalry, leader bang chan, angry seonghwa, y/n is san's weakness lol

Warnings: profanity, violence, weapons, suggestive content!! please take care of yourselves <3

A/N: I am nervous about this one y'all 😳 I've never written something like this before, but it ended up being so fun! This is for my friends, @milfks and L, who had these wonderful ideas! Love you two lots <3

Synopsis: Tonight's mission is in your hands, and you're eager to prove that you're capable of handling it on your own. Unfortunately, your plans are interrupted a bit sooner than you expected.

***

"I've got eyes on him," you mumble, pretending to fix your diamond earring as you adjust your earpiece. Surveying from the platform of the mansion's grand staircase, your eyes follow a man in a black suit as he turns the corner and disappears down a far hallway.

Chan's sigh rings in your earpiece. "Be careful."

"I can handle myself. Trust me."

"I trust you, Y/N. You know that. It's everyone else that I don't trust. It's your first time unaccompanied," Chan says.

"Like I said, I can handle it. Besides, the boys are always out by themselves and they're just fine." If you could see Chan right now, you know he'd be pinching the bridge of his nose out of stress, holding back from giving you a lecture on why your situation is different from theirs. You know his concern is out of love, and he would blame himself if anything were ever to happen to you. But this is your chance to prove yourself. Tonight, you'll be participating in an auction to get your hands on the Cromer, a powerful artifact that can control time. It's been rumored that ATEEZ has their sights set on it as well, so Chan had you do as much research on them as possible. Unfortunately for you, they're quite good at covering their tracks and keeping their identities under wraps. You know only a few of their names and faces, so you'll need to be extra careful about your approach to this. 

The auction will begin in about an hour, and you'd rather not hear a lecture from Chan. "I'm going in," you whisper. Your black dress flatters your figure perfectly, and you're excited to show it off tonight. With a deep breath, you make your way down the staircase, your heels silent on the expensive red carpet.

Clusters of people stand together around the large space, sipping champagne and chatting amongst themselves. Many wives have separated into groups away from their husbands, who go on and on about their latest business ventures and investments. Understandable—how boring. You greet some people as you go, your charming smile in effect as their eyes land on you. One woman compliments your dress as you pass by, and you enthusiastically return her compliment, telling her that her own dress brings out her eyes. She blushes and tells you it's custom made, which basically means "my dress is worth twice as much as the average person's monthly paycheck." 

You continue to weave through the crowds and admittedly get a bit distracted, still thinking about the woman's compliment. As you turn into the hallway you witnessed your target disappear into, you bump straight into an oncoming person. A strong arm wraps around your waist before you can lose balance on your high heels. 

"Woah there, doll. Straying too far, are we?" A tall man with dark hair looks down at you, his eyebrows raised.

Park Seonghwa. Just the man you were looking for. 

"My apologies sir," you say quietly, feigning innocence and avoiding his eyes. His arm leaves your waist after steadying you. "I was wandering in hopes of finding a vacant room to lie down...I'm afraid I've had a bit too many drinks too early in the night." You stumble for dramatic effect, hoping he'll eat up your lies. "I have to sober up before the auction," you say, shaking your head. "Daddy will throw a fit if I spend all his money tonight."

The man looks amused. "Yeah? Better be careful, princess."

"I can handle myself," you say for the second time tonight, stepping closer to trace the pads of your manicured fingers over the fabric on his chest. He tilts your chin up gently, and you meet his intense gaze. He's breathtaking. Suddenly, you have an idea that seems much more fun than your previous plans.

Sorry Chan, you think as you press yourself against Seonghwa.

***

You didn't find anything of importance on Seonghwa's person, but you did manage to slip a tracking device into his suit pocket. Chan should be able to access his location any minute now.

You enter the auction room fifteen minutes before the event is scheduled to start, scanning the tables for your seat. It's dimly lit, a majority of the lighting coming from a screen behind the stage. You don't see Seonghwa seated anywhere yet.

"And what are the starting bids on you, lovely?" a low voice asks, breath tickling your ear. You turn to look at the owner of the voice, his strong facial features almost as striking as his neatly-styled red hair. He's practically undressing you with his eyes, and you can't say you hate it.

"Whatever you've got to offer, pretty boy," you reply sweetly. He smirks, pleased with himself as one of his hands finds your waist.

"My friend says you're not as innocent as you look."

"Pardon?" you ask. The man turns you around, your back against his broad chest as his free hand reaches up to your ear. Before you know it, your earpiece is on the ground in front of you, crushed beneath a polished designer shoe. Looking up, you see that the shoe belongs to none other than Park Seonghwa. Of course they're working together.

You freeze as something cold presses to the exposed small of your back. 

Fuck.

"One wrong move and you're done for, princess," the man with red hair says calmly, lowering himself back down to your ear. "Try to cause a scene and innocent people will pay the price."

You take a deep breath before nodding your head in submission. You slowly turn back around and watch as he returns his gun to his shoulder holster, his expensive blazer completely concealing it. No one around you sees the ordeal, too distracted and eager to spend their money. The man then puts his arm around your shoulders, leading you out of the auction room. Seonghwa follows close behind, making sure you aren't able to slip away. You have no idea if he is armed at this point in time.

You're led into a large meeting room at the very end of the upstairs corridor, the bright moonlight seeping through the open balcony doors and illuminating the glossy wooden table at the center of the room. You catch a glimpse of the pretty garden below the balcony before the man guiding you throws you to the floor. You can feel the bruises forming on your knees instantly.

You don't dare fight back yet—your training in hand-to-hand combat doesn't do shit when your opponents are armed with guns, of course. You would attempt it if he were alone, but with Seonghwa present and potentially armed, you'd rather feel the situation out. 

God, Chan will never let you out onto the field again. He's probably losing his mind now that you've lost contact with each other. Not to mention the fact that you were busted before you even had a chance to get what you came here for. The auction is going to start any minute, and now you're certain there are other ATEEZ members in the auction room that are ready to claim the Cromer instead of you.

You're angry with yourself for not being more prepared with your own weapon, but your favorite handgun unfortunately didn't fit under your dress of choice. You sigh to yourself. At least you look good in it. 

"Give it up, sweetheart. We know what's going on here," the man with red hair says. Seonghwa locks the door behind him before speaking.

"I saw your wolf tattoo, and I've seen only one other just like it. You're working with Bang Chan," he states, is emotions unreadable. 

No. You had forgotten to conceal your waist tattoo since your dress fully covers it. You hadn't expected to completely remove your dress tonight. Rookie mistake. You should expect everything. 

"All this over a tattoo?" You eye him, downplaying the situation.

"How brave of you to interfere with our operation by yourself," the other man comments, ignoring your previous sentence. "No back up here to save you, huh?" 

"Oh, you don't really believe she's here alone, do you, San?" Seonghwa asks. Choi San. You recognize that name. Seonghwa comes over to you, a completely different aura surrounding him now. He's intimidating, gripping your chin with much more force than he had earlier. "Be a good girl and tell us where your friends are, yeah? Don't make things difficult." A chill runs down your spine at his threat. 

"I'm not here with anyone," you state. It's the truth. Even though Chan had insisted he wait in his car nearby, you convinced him to stay and monitor operations from your base. If you don't make contact within the next hour or two, he'll know something is wrong and follow Seonghwa's location.

"Wrong answer, princess." He grips your hair harshly and you wince. "I have a hard time believing that they would put you in a situation like this without back up. Where are they?"

It's sweet of him to underestimate you, honestly. You got yourself into this situation, and you're sure as hell going to get yourself out. You're already halfway done formulating your escape plan. "I said they're not here," you answer again. He lets go of your hair with a hiss.

"It would pain me to ruin such a pretty face...I think we'll let the boss deal with you." 

The boss? Chan told you that no one knows the leader of ATEEZ—it's safe to assume that anyone who's seen him hasn't lived to tell the tale. You're not sure if he'll have any mercy at all to offer you. But maybe these two still have some in them.

"No, please!" you plead, your fists balled up as they rest on your thighs. "If I tell you where they are, will you go easy on me?" You let your head hang low, looking at the floor. San lowers himself in front of you and you find his eyes. You blink, letting a few tears slip down your cheeks. 

"Sure, doll face. We will." You look away from him to briefly meet eyes with Seonghwa. He still stands at full height, arms crossed as he looks down at you. Perhaps it's your tears making your vision blurry, but you swear his gaze softens at the sight of you. You look back to San, sniffling.

"You promise?"

Now, never ever would someone in their right mind trust a promise from someone like them. But you're not planning on following through with your own side of the promise, either. Two can play at this game. You would never jeopardize the safety of SKZ...you told Chan you could handle yourself and you meant it.

"Promise," San says. He's truly something else, radiating such strong and convincing charm. You would fall for his promise in a heartbeat if you didn't know who he really was.

As you slowly rise from your knees, San stands with you. "They made me do it," you confess, more tears spilling from your eyes and taking your favorite mascara with them. "They said they would kill me if I didn't," you whisper, looking away. 

"It's okay, doll," San says, coming closer to comfort you. You flinch before he touches you. "Just tell us where they are, okay? We'll help you." You bury yourself in his chest, your frame shaking in his arms as you cry quietly.

Your best performance yet, if you say so yourself.

After a long minute in his embrace, you begin to pull away. In the process, you grab the gun out of San's shoulder holster and hold the barrel to the center of his chest. He curses under his breath, raising his arms in defeat. You slowly step backwards, turning your aim to Seonghwa as a warning not to try anything, and then returning your aim to San. Seonghwa makes no attempt to grab for anything, so now you know for a fact that he is unarmed.

"I told you the first time that there's no one here with me." You smile. "But it's nice to discover that you both have a heart." 

"Tell Chan we said hi," Seonghwa replies, irritated. 

"Of course, it would be rude of me not to. It's truly been a pleasure, boys." You give Seonghwa a wink. "We'll meet again, right? Maybe you can introduce me to your boss next time."

You've backed up far enough to step onto the balcony, assessing the situation above and below. The garden below is deserted now that the auction has started, but it's a far drop to the ground. There is another balcony above you, but it seems a bit too high for you to escape to. You're trapped, so you're going to have to pull this off fast to avoid getting hurt. 

All you can hear is the sound of your own heartbeat as you throw the gun over the railing into the garden. If you slip up, they could get their hands on it again, and you cannot let that happen. You'll fight the real way if you must.

As soon as it leaves your hands, the men launch at you. You quickly dodge them, ducking under San's punch and managing to sweep Seonghwa's leg, knocking him to the ground. Now that they're both on the balcony, you run back inside, shutting the french doors and locking them behind you. You know it will barely do anything to set them back—they could easily break them down if they wanted to. Through the glass, you watch as San pulls Seonghwa off the ground and looks at you. He doesn't make an immediate effort to get inside.

Is he letting you go? 

You shouldn't wait around any longer to find out. You blow him a kiss before taking your exit out into the main hall. 

But after stepping out, you see why they let you go...

[agere-fics]

Doctor Papa

dni: k!nk, anti-agere, agepl4y, or ddlg-esque blogs 🍄 this blog is a safe space for age regressors and age dreamers 🍄

pairing: caregiver!papa!bruce banner x regressor!little!reader

characters: uncle thor, bruce banner, reader, mentions of: steve, bucky, sam, and tony stark.

summary: you have to get MRIs done but you're nervous. thank goodness, papa knows how to cheer you up.

word count: 1,751

content warnings: MRIs, hospital gown, reader is written like they're a child's height, no mention of a particular chronic illness, please tell me if i'm missing anything

author's note: tadaa!! all done! this is the most i've written for a one shot! very proud of myself. also, this is inspired by me having to get MRIs done recently ajfhs

♡

Sometimes stuff we've done lots of times can still seem scary; which is annoying because who wants to feel anxious about the same exact thing over and over again?

You have to get these scans done by tomorrow. With every heart of your being, you wished that wasn't true but your previous scans were too old.

UGH!

Luckily, your papa had a trick up his sleeve.

He told you to stay here, in this gigantic, empty, white walled room. It was utterly boring, there were no paintings or statues or anything. Not even toys! Well, okay, you had your Mr. Rainy Day Bear but still! At least there were floor to ceiling windows- OH, and a skylight, too. Those are always nice.

While you waited for Bruce to come back, you watched what went on outside. There was Tony using his latest invention to attempt to lift Uncle Thor’s hammer. Tony still had no idea that it couldn't possibly work! How silly of him.

Bucky, Sam, and Steve stood in a far apart triangle. They were tossing around the Captain America shield like a Frisbee, guffawing, and yelling things that were joyously incomprehensible. It looked like lots of fun! Definitely more fun than MRIs. Maybe, they would let you join in later.

The double doors of the empty room swung open and papa’s humongous green form entered.

“Okayyy, love bug, I've grabbed all the cardboard pieces from recycling that weren't gross.” He grimaced thinking about the black, moldy gunk that spoiled some previously useful parts. He shrunk back down to Bruce Banner size after dumping the cardboard into a large pile. “We should have enough for our little art project.”

“Art project?” You looked at him expectantly. Your eyes were actually lit up with stars of joy this time, instead of meteor shower anxiety.

The idea was to make a cardboard MRI machine. Having an art project to focus on would comfort and reassure you about the process you would go through tomorrow. If he could make it fun, your anxiety wouldn't be so bad.

“I’ve seen the machine before, papa, I can make the bestest one yet!” You hopped on your toes, giddy with tight, flapping fists.

“I grabbed your sticker books and some paint, too-”

“OH YAY, THANK YOU PAPA, THIS IS SO EXCITING!!”

Mission accomplished. Anxiety gone, replaced with magical cure Art Project™. Bruce smirked to himself.

You laid down on a tall, square cardboard piece. Bruce traced your form with a sharpie as you giggled. Once you had the correct length, you both began cutting a rectangular piece and put that piece on a metal cart with wheels.

Then, you cut out half circle pieces and hot glued them all together until it made one large 4D sphere with a hole in the middle like a donut.

At one point, the glue burned you but Papa Bruce fixed it right up and stopped the booboo pain with a cure-all kiss.

Your cardboard MRI machine may look done to outsiders but it wasn't even close. It was missing the most important part of all: the stickers! There were heart stickers, stickers with dolphins, rainbow stickers, puppy stickers, stickers that had Mr. Hulk and Papa on them, too! There were even stickers of Stevey, Bucky, Iron Man, and Uncle Thor! Papa said for your birthday he'd make stickers with you on them, too.

You also painted squiggles, polka dots, lines, circles, triangles, kitty cats, and zig zags. All of them in your most favoritest color.

“There!” You stood proudly, hands on your hips. “Now, it's very, very pretty, papa.”

Papa gave you a minute and then asked, “Are you ready to practice?”

You blinked and sighed. Defeat warping your mood. “Yeah...”

Papa spun away, put a doctor's coat on, and then turned back, holding a clipboard. “Alright, are you the caregiver for Mr. Rainy Day Bear?”

“Yeah, papa.” You lightened up a little bit.

“Papa? No, I'm Doctor Doctor. Who's papa?”

“You're papaaa!” You pointed at him.

“Okay, okay I'm Doctor Papa.” He repeated, “Are you the caregiver of Mr. Rainy Day Bear?”

You tilted your chin up and did a faux British accent. “Why, yes, sir. He's feeling very, very bad and needs a scan.”

“Ah, yes, I see that on his chart, Caregiver.” He flipped through the scribbled pages on the clipboard. “Let's have. Mr. Bear lay down on the table with his head on the pillow.” Bruce gestured with his hand.

You laid your stuffie down on the pretend bed, placing Mr. Bear’s head gently on the pillow. You patted his hand for good measure.

Doctor Papa put ear plugs into the bear's ears and placed cushy pink headphones on him. The headphones had cat ears on them. Papa raised his voice a little, “Mr. Rainy Day Bear, what kind of music do you like to listen to?”

“Doctor Papa, Mr. Bear is nonverbal.” you said matter of factly. You raised your pointer finger to the sky. “I’ll answer for him. He likes The Wiggles, Papa- I mean Doctor Papa.”

“Alrighty then, The Wiggles album coming right up.” Bruce pulled out his phone, scrolling until he found the right music. “Wiggles rave?”

You nodded, then kissed the tippity top of Rainy Day’s head. “You'll be okay, Mr. Bear.”

Bruce began to push the cardboard bed into the donut sphere. You took a big, big deep breath in.

“BRRRR BEEEP AGHHHH RRRRR DNNNN-”

That breath was immediately released back into the atmosphere. “PAPAAA!” You clutched your chest, laughing so hard your legs felt weak.

Doctor Papa continued, “DRRRRR EEEEEE EHHHHHH MRRRRRR!”

You were rolling on the floor, tears leaving your eyes. How silly of your papa!

“BRRRRRrrrrrr….” Papa rolled the cardboard bed out of the donut. “How are you feeling Mr. Bear?”

“Papa, he can't hear you!”

Bruce laughed. “Oh, yeah, right.” He removed the headphones and then the earplugs. “How is the fantastic Mr. Bear?”

You lifted Mr. Bear’s paws and had him sign to Bruce, ‘I am okay.’

“Perfect! Let's take a look at your scans here…” Papa turned around and scribbled quickly on the paper. When he faced you again, he showed you the scan. It was a poorly constructed scribble of Mr. Rainy Day Bear with a big, biiiiiiiig, heart right in the middle. “I knew it, Lots-Of-Love-itis.”

You unburied the British accent. “Quite good, sir. Well done, Mr. Bear.” You placed a hulk sticker on his paw and hugged him tightly.

Papa kneeled down and asked, “Do you want to practice with you this time?”

You gave it a thought, looking this way and that. “Hmmm, will you make the funny noises again?”

“BEEEEP BRRR-”

“Not right now, Papa!” You shouted with a smile.

“Oh, during the practice?” He waited for you to finish rolling your eyes. “Yeah, I can do that.”

“Okay…” You breathed in, out, in, and out slowly. “Let's practice, Doctor Papa.”

♡

“Big day, lille venn.” Uncle Thor said as he helped tie the back of your hospital gown. He double knotted the strings behind your neck and then the ones by your hip. “There you are. All set.”

You frowned at that, looking at Thor with big, watery eyes. “Not all set.”

“It'll be okay.” His hands (placed on your shoulders) turned you to face him. “Remember your breathing?”

“Mhm.”

“Let's do it together.” He raised his left hand as you did the same. “Climb Yggdrasil, breathe in.”

You traced up your pointer finger.

“Let's sit at the very top, hold your breath.”

You paused at the tip of your finger.

“Slide down the Yggdrasil branches, breathe out.”

You traced down your pointer finger.

Uncle Thor had you repeat that four more times, until the tears dried and the anxiety flowed further away.

“Very good, great job. Let's go see Papa.” He held your hand as he walked you towards the scary room. Worse than the boring room from yesterday.

You turned the corner and there was Papa at the computer. “Hey there! The computer’s prepped and waiting for you, little one.”

You looked at Papa, then Uncle Thor, and then Papa again. “Okay… I'm ready.”

Papa led you to the metal bed. It was rectangular and thin. A sheet was laid out on it so you wouldn't get super cold. There was a thick pillow on the end that had your favorite kitty cat pillowcase on it, which made the corners of your lips turn upwards.

Papa pressed an arrow down bottom next to the donut sphere that brought the bed down to your level. He held your hand as you hopped on and then helped position you onto the center. He guided you through a big, deep breath so that your body was as comfortable on the table as can be instead of tense.

Next came pink headphones with cutesy kitty ears on them and plain boring ear plugs so that your hearing wasn't hurt from the loud noises. Papa already set up your favorite kind of music so when the headphones were placed on you, it was already playing. Bruce furrowed his brow in question, moving his thumb up and down. You replied with a thumbs up. You were ready.

Bruce handed you a panic button to hold just in case and laid a blanket over you to keep you warm. Papa kissed the top of your head and left the room.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath in and out.

BBRRRRRRR

‘It's okay. I'm okay.’

BEEEEEEPPP

‘Woohoo, I'm doing awesome!’

REEEEHHHHHH

‘This is boring, it's got to have been a bajillion minutes by now.’

After ten years (minutes), the machine stopped and Papa walked back into the room. He gave you a high five and bunches of praises that you only heard some of because of all the ear protectors. But you could tell by his facial expressions that he was so very proud of you.

He pressed the arrow down button again and the bed began moving to an easier height. You removed the headphones and earplugs yourself, you felt like such a big kid (in the best way)!

You stretched this way and that while making funny noises which made you abrupt into hearty giggles.

Bruce held your hand as you jumped down. Next thing you knew, he was hugging you tightly, picking you up, and spinning you around and around!

“I'm so very, very proud of you, bumble bee!”

You kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Papa!”

♡

[soapymansuds]

Eternity and counting

Pt 5

(Pt1, Pt2, Pt3, Pt4)

(Ok y'all, going on vacation and this is the last chapter I have pre-written SO the next upload may be late. Apologies in advance.)

Obey me! X Angel!MC (They/Them Pronouns)

TW: Suicide, depression, self-deprecation, death, big feelings, lots of sad.

MC just can't handle anything anymore and takes their own life. Imagine their dismay to find even death isn't the end for them.

~/\~

And so I do. Because I'm stupid. And selfish. And did I mention stupid? There is literally nothing dumber I could be doing. And that thought doesn't stop me. I trace a long since overgrown path around to the back of the house. Lifting the ancient stone of a raven statue, I reach blindly underneath in search of the spare key. Mammon told me about it during my first week here because he so frequently forgot his own keys inside. I chuckle softly at myself as my hand makes contact with the delicate key, the idea of something so small being so unchanged for so long being a little bit silly to me.

The key fits as snugly in the door as it always has, and I revel in the soft click of the lock as I twist it. I take a moment inside, breathing in the soothing smell of the house. It's peppery and smokey, but something sweet hides beneath the muskier smells. Like marshmallows on a campfire or a sweet oil rubbed into old leather. It's warm in my lungs. The air itself feels like soothing aloe on my hot skin. The thought makes me smile, conjuring half-muttled memories of Asmodeus hunting me through the house in an attempt to care for a sunburn I more than earned. I take a gentle half-step further inside, reminiscing on each small scuff and half-fixed crack on the wall as I unconsciously wander the halls.

I find myself strangely unbothered by the fear of discovery that drips its way down my spine. My wings brush against walls and decorations in the same way they did when I was first reborn, still getting used to their presence and the new space I took up. But I simply can't wrap my head around being here in any other way than how I always was. So I continue my venture through the halls like I'm human once again, with no regard for the gentle swish of feathers on the walls.

I stop for a moment in front of a mirror,, and the sight of myself, or more accurately, the cloaking spell covering me, makes me shiver. It feels so wrong to try to be someone else here. And so I drop it. The spell falls from my skin like a peel from a banana, and I sigh with the relief of it.

I feel nearly entranced by the whole experience. Head soft and clouded, as if I were dreaming. Maybe I am? It's been a year since I've seen these halls in the waking world so it's not totally impossible, but I struggle to remember falling asleep.

A gentle sound rouses me from my thoughts, a huffing of some sort. Or maybe a gasping? It's breathy regardless, so I follow it to its source.

My room.

Or, my old room, I suppose. Can't imagine it hasn't been taken over by somebody else's hobby.

As I approach the door, though, it's cracked open, and the light that flows through is the same as it's always been. The gentle golden glow of my desk lamp dances over my toes and across my cheek as I peek through the crack. To my surprise, it's exactly how I left it. My pens lay haphazardly across my desk, and my slippers are tucked at the foot of my bed. Even the vines of my ivy are thriving. What catches my attention the most though, is the way my lamp light shimmers on his head.

That snowy white hair I could pick out of a crowded club, even after all this time, shakes gently on my pillow. The shaking wracks his whole body, despite how tightly he's curled into himself. I realize with a cold wave of sorrow, that all that huffing was sobbing. I haven't seen Mammon cry like this since the Belphegor incident and the sight of it resonates in the pit of my stomach.

He's mourning.

He's still mourning. After all this time.

I consider running again for just a moment, but even if I could convince my mind to leave, I'm certain my body wouldn't follow suit. I feel faint as my knees melt from below me. Unfortunately, my efforts to keep myself up are in vain, as not only do I fall to the floor, but I press the door open further in the process.

The sound seems to startle Mammon, because, despite my focus on the floor, I can hear him shuffle in the bed.

"Fuck off Lucifer..." He mumbles, voice achy and raw. He waits in silence for what he's definitely expecting to be Lucifer's stern remark.

I attempt to take his moment of silence to press myself up and out of the room, but my movements are sluggish and awkward, and my wing bashes clumsily into a table, knocking over my lamp. I watch in near slow motion as it falls and I reach to stop it. But it's too far and I'm too dazed, and before I know it, the room is dark.

I whimper pathetically as I stare at it, delicate glass thrown across the floor. I scoot to pick up the pieces, cradling them in my palm.

"Who are you?!"

Mammon yells at me, suddenly shot out of bed. My head snaps up to look at him and I feel my heart crack. He's broken out into his demon form, but in spite of the attempted threat, all I can see is the pain in his eyes. His cheeks are red and shiny in the moonlight and his eyes carry bags deep enough to swim in.

"I-" my head rattles with the force of looking up at him, down at the shattered lamp, and back up at him. "I'm sorry..."

It's pathetic. What am I even apologising for? For scaring him? Breaking the lamp? For leaving? I'm sorry is hardly enough of an apology for all of it. It's barely enough for a single grievance.

His gaze though. It pulls me from my thoughts. His snarl falls and his forehead smoothes as he stares at me, and it hits me with a wave of terror that I am no longer hidden. Why would I have dropped the cloaking spell? How could I be so stupid? Did I want to be seen? How fucking selfish.

"M-mc?..." He whispers my name like it could scare me away. Like he's praying for something.

"I... I'm sorry, I just..." I stutter out words with no real meaning as I try desperately to justify myself. I stare back down at the shards in my hand like they hold some sort of solution, but they fall from my fingers with a clink as I'm slammed backward into the floor.

Mammon has plowed straight into me and taken us both down. He grips onto me like I'm going to fade straight through his fingers if he lets go, and I can't rightly blame him. His shoulders shutter with each fanning of his breath over my shoulder. It takes several moments of listening to his combination of whines and sobs for my brain to restart, but as I come to my senses, I wrap my arms around him in turn.

And it breaks me. I've spent a year carefully storing and sorting all my emotions. Handling problems without worrying about them. Actively avoiding any big feelings. And all it takes is Mammon to throw all that effort to the wind. Tears flow from my eyes, hot and heavy as they drip past my ears. My breaths shake in time with his and for several moments, there is nothing. The world falls away and we're not an angel and a demon. We're not even people. We're just two old friends crying in each other's arms. 

(As always, thank you for reading! Comment to be added to the tag list!)

~Your friend, The Author

*tags*

@spffldlbrnf @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf @seraphlies @averageradstudent @sasa-mya @ayshela @miracl3d @mehkers @fersitaam @crywicked @crypt-exx

[glitter-stained]

My very personal rating of every lazarus pit fanon side effects I've ever read, ranked from favourite to least favourite :

Tapetum lucidum (the thing cats have that makes their eyes gleam in the dark): that's so creepy and cool, eery in a more discreet way than a full-on glow, idk who hced that first but they are a genius

Contaminated blood laced with the lazarus protein: because our blood renews itself pretty often, this implies the existence of either a lazarus organ that continues to pump the lazarus protein in the blood, or, more probably, the contamination of one of the blood producing organs, maybe of the bone marrow, by the Lazarus pit. Like imagine the Lazarus Pit changing you down to the inside of your bone... The implications are so fascinating I'd love to read more about it.

Altered dna: this doesn't make sense, how does the magical healing pit change your dna, I love it so much, tell me more about the magic gatorade that rewrites dna

Accelerated healing/enhancements: what's funnier, that the pit gave Jason metahuman abilities like being able to withstand a meteorite and going toe-to-toe with Deathstroke (the wiki's words, not mine) and it was just never discussed, or that nothing Jason went through gave him these abilities that he really shouldn't have and he still does and it was just never discussed? I don't know but still, that stuff is top-tier

Glowing green eyes: on the one hand, eyes that glow when the person is feeling intense negative emotions (even better it's not just rage, like, imagine having a flashback or nightmare or getting fear toxined and their eyes glow and people think they're about to attack but they just scream that'd be so cool) but on the other hand, I feel like the colour is too limiting. Sure, Ra's or Riddler can fuck with the glowing green but come on, my girl Cass deserves eyes that glow gold (like the gold from the Batgirl suit). Jason deserves to have glowing red eyes. Cicero says that eyes are the reflection of the soul and while I love the idea of the lazarus pit being toxic, contaminating a part of the person's soul, in comics, a character's colour scheme is an essential part of their graphic identity, and I think altering it to the point of giving it a totally different colour is too much for my taste personally. Like, you are still the same person that you were before the bad thing happened. Yes, it changed you irrevocably, but you are still yourself and you should still have the right to your name and to the colour of your soul.

Lazarus Rage/Pit Madness: so I've seen this one criticized pretty often, often because of how unnecessary, and honestly probably damaging, to the understanding of Jason's character after his resurrection. And like, I agree, but also I've found myself to enjoy the fanon version of the Batfam. Like, I don't like that it's murky and confusing sometimes to figure out which is fanon or canon and that that leads people to judging canon actions from a standard of fanon information, and parts of it can be sexist or racist or classist, but the same can be said from canon, you have to be critical with what you consume. Basically to me there are two batfams and I consume both differently and enjoy both, and in the context of fanon I enjoy Pit Madness. The idea of uncontrollable, alien rage is fun, is angsty, and as someone with intense anger issues I'm telling you writing a lazarus rage episode was one of the most cathartic things I've ever written and it felt so good. I also think part of the upset on the subject is a bit undeserved because I see people complain that "the lazarus doesn't work like that because it didn't do that to other people" as if the way the lazarus pit worked made any sense. You're telling me this stuff healed Jason's malnutrition but it didn't fix his trauma? That it healed the Riddler's brain cancer but couldn't be bothered to fuck with Jason's hypertrophied amygdala and the fucked up connections between his amygdala and hippocampus??! Obviously we can't expect dc to know or care about science that much , but I still have the right to be nerdy about it. Jason went into the pit resurrected by God and with brain damage and Ra's said it was a plague and that could make him crazy, I fully believe he could have gotten Pit Madness even if the others hadn't.

Eye-colour change: that's the same thing as the glowing part but without the fun part, really dislike it. I need to be able to listen to I know these eyes/this man is dead from the Count of MonteCristo Musical while making up Under the Red Hood edits in my head please and thank you

Lazarus Pit brings people back to life: I hate it so much dc stop treating life and death so inconsequentially oh my gosh characters fighting life and death situations should not have a source of immortality right in hand I hate that lazarus resin lazarus toxin stuff they have right now and the idea that the pits can bring back to life plays into that idea so I really dislike it. I understand the appeal, it's the basics of coming back wrong with a side of rebirth in the water but instead of being purified it's being poisoned, but I just can't get over how frustrating it is to see a beloved character die and only be able to say I hope he doesn't come back for his own sake and then he comes back. Urgh.

[moralesmilesanhour]

okay okay, i have had this one thought in my head about a platonic gender-neutral (or male/masc-leaning) reader fic. this is for either miles (more so 42 than 1610 bc i can imagine his face of exasperation). imagine just being his dumbass friend, like yeah your smart enough to be in visions, but goddamn!! you leave your braincells in your school locker once the final bell rings. your self preservation instincts are questionable at best and the only reason you're not dead yet bc you're proving that quote "you can't kill stupid" as a true fact. at least you bring homemade food over everytime you visit his home and his mom likes you, so you're not completely hopeless in life. (i've had this rotating in my brain for days and still haven't written it myself) -☁

a/n: I went the masc route with this one with a sprinkle of gender envy if u squint

You thought doing homework on a rooftop would be a nice change of scenery.

Dangling off of the rooftop? Not so much.

A tiny group of pigeons had been hanging out near the edge, and you had the idea to try and feed them with the bag of sunflower seeds you'd brought with you. Carefully, you step forward toward the flock, until some unknown force of nature causes you to trip over your own feet and sends you careening over the edge.

Somehow, you manage to grab hold of the railing of the fire escape just below, but your palms are sweaty. You heave as you use all of your upper body strength to hold yourself up while desperately trying not to look down.

It's not enough.

Just as you lose your grip, a strong arm catches you. It's covered in purple leather, ending in a familiar clawed hand.

"Again?" Asks an amused modulated voice as wind rushes past your ears.

"You make it sound like a daily occurrence."

You feel a jolt as the masked figure swings and lands in front of an alleyway before putting you down. As you adjust your crooked glasses, the mask whirs and splits in two before receding, revealing the smirking, deep brown face of your friend, Miles.

"What happened this time?"

His voice is low and nearly too soft to hear, a stark contrast to the tinny high pitch of your own. No amount of lowering your larynx or whispering could ever get it like that. Part of you wishes you could steal it sometimes, or borrow his voice modulator, at least.

If only.

"Tripped," you answer, rubbing your upper arm as a side effect of the claws' tight grip. "Dunno how you always manage to catch me."

"Easy," Miles explains as he unzips his black duffel bag. "I see that ratty ass gray hoodie you always got on and swing right over."

With a whir and a clank, he removes the claw on his right hand, then his left, tossing them into the bag.

"How does carryin' those around like that not damage them?" you blurt out suddenly. Miles snorts.

"You gonna fix 'em for me, genius?"

"No."

"Thought so."

Finally, he removed the grappling hook strapped to his back and tied his jacket around his waist.

You say his catchphrase before he does: "Let's bounce!"

This earns you a burst of laughter from Miles as you make your way out of the alley.

"What, I say it wrong?"

"No, it's just..." he catches his breath and claps you on the shoulder as he passes by. "You make it sound so friendly."

"Whatever, man."

-

"Yo, pay attention, dude!"

You feel Miles' hand yank you backwards by your hoodie as a car horn blares past you. Once you look up from your phone, your eyes widen.

"Oh, shit."

The car had barely missed you.

The streetlight across from you finally turned white, and the two of you crossed. Miles keeps glancing back at you until the short journey to the opposite sidewalk is completed.

He stops, crossing his arms. "How many times are you gonna almost-die today? Lemme know so I can adjust my schedule."

"Until someone finally finishes the job," you joke before remembering something. "Ah fuck, I hope the brownies survived."

You swing your book bag off of your shoulder and kneel to open it, revealing a small Tupperware container filled with home-made brownies stacked on top of your textbooks. Thankfully, there is only a bit of chocolate smudged on the sides; the pastries themselves remain (mostly) intact.

Miles raised an eyebrow. "You know taking the textbooks home is optional, right?"

Zipping your bag closed, you reply with a shrug,"I like re-writing my notes. I need to access the source material."

"I need to access the source material," Miles mimics you in a nasally voice before strolling past you. "If I were a worse person, I'd shove yo' ass in a locker."

You laugh, breaking into a jog to catch up to him with your 'source material' weighing you down.

"Just for that, I'm telling your mom the brownies are just for her-shit!"

A piece of cracked and lifted cement trips you up and scuffs your sneakers. Your hands shoot out to break your fall, planting themselves onto the ground. Your glasses aren't so lucky.

"Aw, man, I just got these!" You frowned as you dusted off your khaki shorts with one hand, holding your glasses in the other.

One of the frames now has a crack right down the middle.

"That's tough, buddy," Miles remarks.

He had spun around as soon as he heard you yell in case of another near-death experience, but was now trying desperately to hold back laughter that escaped through his nose as he walked backwards towards his destination.

"It's not funny!"

"It's a little funny. You're like a Looney Tunes character."

You laugh, "If an anvil falls on my head, it's your fault."

[ijustwantogohomehogwarts]

e y e b r o w s

e y e b r o w s

Tim and Reader are debating the only part of his face that needs some...help

Warnings and such: one swear word? Otherwise absolutely nothing! FLUFF!!

This is one of the fluffiest things I have written and pulled outta my drafts! There's 154 more and they'll be coming!!

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

"It's not weird! You see me do it all the time!" I laughed, jumping up on the bathroom counter. I had just gotten out of the shower and thought i'd be able to go 5 minutes without my stage-5-clinger of a boyfriend. Of course, I was wrong, though Im not complaining....

"But you're a girl, it's different."

"It is not!"

He groaned, leaning across the counter to look at himself up close in the mirror. I watched him make faces, studying every part of his reflection. Even when he was being stupid, he was beautiful.

"Let me see," I smiled, grabbing his shoulder. He huffed and stood between my legs, hands on my bare thighs.

"You're soft," He cocked a smile, looking down at my skin.

"I smell nice too-" his face nuzzled into my neck before i could say anything else. "Tim!" I laughed as he inhaled deeply.

"Yeah, you do."

"Focus! Let me see." He stood up and rolled his eyes, looking at me with the upmost level of sarcasm. I grabbed his chin and tipped his face into different angles, eventually being overly dramatic just to make him laugh.

"Yeah, looks like your out of luck."

"Oh come on!" His gaze drifted back to his reflection in the mirror.

"What are you complaining about? You've obviously done it before!"

"It hurts! Why else do you think I dont stay on top of these things- dont!" He pressed a finger to my mouth.

'Because you're lazy,' I thought to myself.

"Let me do it."

"No!"

"It's not going to hurt!"

"Yes it is!"

"Fine, let the hair and make up people do it." I could see the thoughts spinning in his head. "They're going to be super busy, mad they have to spend more time to fix it, and you're gonna start your day pissed off and bright red!" I patted his cheek and made to get off the counter. "Sounds like a good idea!"

"Wait..." I smiled, hands holding his elbows. Even sitting on the counter, I had to look up at him. "Promise it's not going to hurt?"

"Would I ever lie to you?"

"About this, maybe." I gasped, slapping his chest playfully.

"You ass!" His hands grabbed my wrists, holding them gently. He pressed his lips to mine and let the kiss linger for a moment. I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks. The things this man does to me!

"Are you sure?" He finally spoke, dropping my hands and resuming the facial expressions he was making in the mirror. Well, that moments over.

"Tim, you're 3 hairs away from a unibrow! It'll take me 5 minutes, 10 tops and you won't feel a thing!"

"Fine!" he sighed, out of arguments. "But if you mess any of this up," he gestured to his entire face, "you're gonna have a lot of people coming for you!"

"Too bad I'm still the one that's gotta look at you all day!" I kissed him quickly before he could pout- The same kiss he gave me moments ago.

I got out my supplies and went to work. I'm not sure what those hair and make up artists are doing to him- he flinched like crazy at first, but quickly relaxed into it. He stood quietly between my legs, eyes closed, and obliged me when I tipped his head this way and that way.

I took my time, giving myself the pleasure to look at his face. I live with him, I've been dating him for 3 years, I've known him for 20+ years, but it never feels like I get to look at him- not in this way. His skin was perfect, freckles were adorable, his lashes fluttered slightly as I pulled the last few hairs. He sighed heavily, pulling me from my thoughts. I set the tweezers down, put a hand on his shoulder and asked him to squat, just a little. His knees gave a light thud to the cabinet as he did.

I held the side of his face, turning his head each direction one more time before running my thumbs softly across his eyebrows. He sighed heavily again, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Impatient are we?" I whispered, "Do you have somewhere better to be?"

"In bed with my girl." The smile spread across his face. "All done?" He asked, opening his eyes.

"All done!" I smiled. He looked at me for a moment before standing up straight and stepping out from between my legs, leaning over the counter once more.

"Oh wow!" More silly faces. "I look good!"

I hopped off the counter, put everything away and stood behind him, arms wrapped around his torso. He had to lift an arm to be able to see me behind him.

"You always look good...but I like you better with two eyebrows instead of one."

"You're hired!"

"Hired?"

"Oh yeah! It's one thing if those hair and makeup people wanna beat my face with makeup," I couldn't help but laugh. "But when they go for the eyebrows- they're out for blood! Literally!"

"I'm glad you're happy!" I stepped in front of him, arms still around him as I pressed my chin to his chest, looking up at him. "Timmy?"

"Yes mon amour?"

"Will you let me shave your face?"

"One thing at a time, crazy lady!"

[dapper-lil-arts]

Do you have any top tier horse yuri fic recs?

Hmm, i got a couple, lemme think

This one is a very sweet slice of life EG Sunset x Scitwi one, its got a lovely interpretation of the characters; With the expected but very welcome pairing of cool punk girl and adorable nerd. and i plan on doing fanart of it! The writer knows her stuff nyeheh =v= This is the best "Rarity and Applejack get drunk together and mushy stuff happens" Fic i seen out there, a trope that is surprisingly recurring, ive seen others like this! But this one is the best, hands down. A mutual of mine wrote it and its just a wonderful time! This one is a super fun horror esque rarijack fic where rarity is haunted and applejack tries to help her. its got fantastic prose and its just damn lovely! I've done fanart of it before, its a sweet one, and its also just a really interesting direction to take Rarity's character that i'm almost sad to not see more of. Overpowered rarity whennnn Although i don't ship twilight and trixie, this fic of this pairing, that is still ongoing, is fucking hilarious. The comedy has wonderful timing, and the takes on the characters are endlessly entertaining

Stay tuned to this wonderful fic of Rarijack anthros (Inspired by the ones i designed, too!!) 'cause its gonna have a sex sequel that i've already gotten a sneak peek or two of, and i'm frotthing at the mouth about it. biting things even (i sketched the cover btw!)

This fic isn't rly horse yuri but its 1000 words of Sunset Shimmer being the utter insane badass i always wished she was; and I will continue writing her like so. I'm glad to see another writer also concidered the same

If you're like me, and think that sex is funny, this fic and it's two sequels are for you. Sunset Shimmer throws a party of deranged proportions that ends in debauchery and indulgence that nearly destroys the fabric of equestria; and it's consequences are hilarious. This is a rly cute short trans rarity fic, and it has a delightful amount of rarijack within. utterly adorbs. Almost sad to see it so short! Finaly, i'd be amiss to not recommend the fics i've written myself; Here are my two biggest and most awesomest i've done: The Return of Midnight Sparkle Is a take on MLP where there is no EG universe, and rather, Sunset Shimmer is brought to the mane 6 per twilight's request, and she absolutely does not feel like she belongs, and its a narrative about her desperate attempts of fitting in; and dealing with the fallout of her failings. I put an inordinate amount of effort on this one, even drawing covers for each chapter. I went DERRANGED with the idea of "what if sunset shimmer was on FIM and also it was gay as fuck." i basicaly wrote an entire season of the show and its finale. If you're a fan of Sunset Shimmer and Twilight Sparkle as a pairing, cannot recommend enough. Here's some of the art i made for it. Insanely sick chapter covers im super proud of The Princess and the Peasant is an all you can eat buffet for Rarijack enjoyers, I've taken the baseline of the story of "shrek 1" and i made it about Applejack and Rarity; And also expanded upon it and fixed some of the annoyances with the og story (No third act misunderstanding! On the contrary. Third act understanding. SEX.) The humble farmer Applejack has to rescue fair Princess Rarity from a dragon keep, and escort her across Equestria to ensure that her farm and family are safe. Of course, on the journey, those two grow a bit close... Too close. VEry very very veyr close. Here's a comic i've made of one of my fave scenes of it lmaooo Cannot express enough; If you're a fan of rarijack? This fic is EVERYTHING for you.

[fxchild]

The Switch

Miles Fairchild x fem!reader

Chapter seven: So now you're back?

A note from Fxchild ! Hi hi so ya I am not dead ! My phone lit broke and I totes forgot my email for this acc but now I'm back and my writers block has never gone away so quickly ! I'm so excited for new chapters to b out soon ! In the meantime while you r waiting for chapters, if you have one shot ideas for characters Finn Wolfhard plays I would b more than happy to write those so you guys aren't waiting forever for a new chapter ! So...finally heres the well awaited chapter seven ! I hope you enjoy this <3

It's the first day of May. It's also been three months since Miles left again. I keep telling Flora that he'll be back soon but I feel my heart break every time I lie to her. I don't think he will be back until I leave for the summer and then he'll leave again when I come back. I feel so guilty..Flora doesn't have a brother that lives with her because of me. But was it all really my fault? He treats me like shit and expects me to tolerate it. Never mind. I don't give a flying fuck about him anymore. He can do whatever he wants, if something happens to him, oh boo hoo not my problem.

It was finally Friday which means I have tomorrow off and I only have to teach Flora a little today because the weather was perfect for horseback riding and I'd promise to let her out today. Today I wore a dark red top with dark grey jeans with black high top shoes. I put my hair in a half up half down clip and did minimal makeup because I was planning on recording myself for an upcoming interview I have for a summer job.

Today I planned out a written test to see Flora's knowledge on geography. I would give her a half an hour to finish up on review and two hours for the test. The test was fairly easy so it shouldn't take her more than an hour or so.

"And begin." I smiled at Flora, setting my timer on my desk which is right across from hers. She immediately begins to read and write down answers while I look over her past work to grade.

Around 45 minutes into the session we hear the front door open. Flora pays no attention to it, I assume it's Ms. Grose coming in from cutting grass or buying groceries so I ignore it and go back to reading old assignments. Around a few minutes went by when I heard footsteps coming to the room. Expecting Ms. Grose I take my feet off the desk and fix my posture without looking at the door. I pretend to be in deep thought with grading when I hear someone clear their throat and hear Flora shout,

"Miles!" She screeches and jumps from her seat running over to hug him. I immediately turn my whole body in my chair with wide eyes. His hair slightly longer and he looks a little taller. He still has the same smirk and dead eyes I saw the night he left. He had on a black coat that ran down to his knees and two bags in his hands that he must have taken when he left. He engulfs Flora into a hug and smiles down at her. I've never seen that smile before. Unlike the ones he had given me this one was warm and loving. I think I had given him that smile before but I wasn't sure. Finally after what seemed like an eternity, he looked up at me and smiled. It was genuine, his eyes brightened. I knew it was real because it wasn't that same old smirk he put on with confidence, he looked painfully awkward and his eyes kept darting between me and the wooden floor. I didn't smile back. I rose up from my seat and walked over to him.

"Flora, why don't you take Miles bags and put them in his room for him sweetheart?" I smiled down at her while patting her hair. She gladly accepts and runs off with his bags. Miles smiles at me again nodding opening his mouth to speak but I cut him off.

"How you been Miles? Where'd you go this time huh? Was it fun?" I say with a sarcastic fake smile, he could tell I was mad.

"Well I-" He begins as I slap his face.

"You scared the shit out of me! Do you know how upset Flora was? She cried for almost a week, blaming herself, poor girl!" I say gritting my teeth with my eyes starting to tear up slightly.

He stared at me with pursed lips before sighing and answering. "He told me to."

I scoff and look at him dumbfounded. "He? Wh-who the hell is 'he' Miles huh? What are you schizo?" I roll my eyes annoyed

"Nobody-nothing. I just..had a dream that's all." He shakes his head staring down at the floor with shame.

"Whatever Miles." I roll my eyes and walk over to Flora's desk to pick up her finished test. "Better go find Flora. Told her she could get out of class early to go ride the horses." I say looking through her test without looking up at Miles.

"You're not gonna come?" He asks quietly, nodding his head to the side, scratching the back of his neck.

I chuckle quietly before placing the test back on the desk. "After the last time?" I walk over to him, picking a pine needle off his jacket. "No thanks." I fake smile before walking out of the room to my own. When I reach my room I fall flat onto my bed before letting out a loud sigh into my pillow. A few minutes later I look out the window. I see Flora and Miles running to the stables and shouting happily. I turn to look at my Calendar, 30 days until I leave. I got sick of sitting in my room bored and decided to go do something, anything in his boring place.

I walk into the kitchen hoping there's an apple or some food sitting out but instead of being greeted with food, it's an unbearable Ms. Grose. I smile at her but she crosses her arms and frowns at me.

"Why are you being so unpleasant towards Miles?" She grits her teeth. "What are you talking about?" I ask trying to pretend I have no clue what's going on. "Talking to him in such an arrogant tone, not accepting his offer and you still wonder why he left? You should be shamed." She spits at me coldly. My face dropped as I start to feel tears in the corners of my eyes.

I quickly ran back up to my room and slam the door. Tears start to stream down my face as I grab my backpack and start shoving stuff into my bag. By the time I zipped it up I hear the front door open again. I quickly put my shoes back on and started heading down the stairs. Walking towards the door I'm wiping my tears, Miles blocks my path.

"Woah woah! Where are you going?" He asks with a concerned look on his face, his hands falling to my shoulders. "Out." I reply while sniffling trying to push past him.

"Um okay, when are you coming back?" He lets go of me, now following me out the door. "I don't know..like..tomorrow? Sunday maybe?" I continue to walk away from him to my car. "Tell me where in case you get black out drunk again and need me to pick you up." He scoffs grabbing onto my wrist.

"You know what Miles? You won't have to worry about me anymore! I won't bother you. It's clear I make you want to leave and you hate me so I'll just leave you alone okay?! Is that what you wa-"

He cuts me off by pressing his lips against mine. It was soft and quick, like he was trying to shut me up and this was the first thing he thought of. He lets go of my wrist and stands up straight looking at me sternly. My cheeks are burning red as I attempt to say something but I can't seem to speak, like there's no air in my lungs.

I lean up against my car door for a moment staring at my feet trying to decide whether to leave or not. I finally look up at him, his head in staring at my feet too. His hands are in his pockets and he's biting his bottom lip nervously. I smile up at him.

"Hey..I'll be back in a little while. I promise I won't make you pick me up this time. Want me to grab you something?" I softly smile, hoping he won't hate me. He shakes his head no with a small smile on his face before letting me get into his car. He watches me drive off before heading back inside.

'29 days..' I whisper to myself as I head into the nearest town, smiling to myself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This was extremely rushed so my apologies if it wasn't as great as one of my last chapters ! I promise the next chapter will b better and have more of a plot than this one. Hope you guys liked this and r excited for the next chapter!

[myzzjolanda]

Welpz, I finished something.

I'm sorry if it's weird, I'm sorry for mistakes, English isn't my first language, bladiebladiebla. I'm just tired, wrote this in just over an hour because I wanted it written. It's cute at least. I guess.

____

KITTY

Show: Wednesday

Wordcount: 1776

Warnings: slight mentions of horror I guess?

Pairing: platonic Larissa Weems x reader

Enjoy!

It had been an increddible long day. An incredible long week even. Flu-season started, so on top of her normal workload, Larissa had to make sure classes of 3 different teachers were covered since they got ill as well, the heating system failed last Tuesday ánd Wednesday and on top of that, she had to pick up Wednesday Adams from the police station today. “Breaking into the curch? On broad daylight? What wére you thinking, miss Adams?���, she asked the girl angrily when they got to the car. She closed the door a bit too hard. Who can blame me, she thought; it’s Friday. I just wanted to get to bed after classes ended. “I was just testing a theory.”, the girl answered. Despite being angry, Larissa couldn’t resist being curious. “Theory? What kind of nonsense-theory did you want to tesr now?”, she answered impatiently when she started the car. “You know that Maria statue? I've been told that when the sun shines on her face in a right way at certain times, some discoulorations make it look like she’s crying blood. I wanted to see that for myself.”. Larissa shuddered. “That’s the… weirdest story I’ve heard in a while. Especially since you decided to break into the church for it! I wont accept such nonsense, you’ll meet at the church tomorrow morning at 8:30, as we have promised the curch and the police, so that you can help clean up the mess!”.

When Larissa entered her rooms next to her office an hour later, she leaned against the door and closed her eyes first. She sighed and put her face into her hands. “that was embarrasing…”, she whispered. She walked to her chair and took of her coat and shoes. She sat down for a moment. She still had so much to do, but she felt tired. So tired… She didn’t have much time to sleep this week. Not even to relax. Although all problems were fixed quite well and quickly, she still felt quite stressed. Larissa felt her lower lip tremble a bit. Perhaps just a little nap? She walked to her bedroom. A little nappy wouldn’t hurt anyonr. She had been quite big this week, she deserved it. She didn’t even bother changing or removing her make-up. When she hid under her blankets, Larissa her arms automatically reached out for Kitty. But now… Larissa’s eyes were wide open immediatly. “Kitty?”. Her lower lip trembled again and her eyes started to water. “Where’s my Kitty?”

___

When the last students of your class left, you burried your face in your hands. It was flu-season, and you surely felt like you almost had the flu. Your head hurt, your throat hurt, your face hurt, everything hurt. Slowly, you packed your stuff. You wanted to go to sleep quickly, but you first had to go to Larissa first. You promised her to go to town together tomorrow, but feeling as you did, it wasn’t a good idea to go out tomorrow. You walked to Larissa’s classroom first, since that was closer to your classroom than her office. It was still open, but it was empty. Except… for a black kitten plushy on Larissa’s desk? She walked to the plushy and picked it up. There wasn’t a name or anything on it. You decided to bring it with you to Larissa her office, since she could tell you who the plushy belonged to. When you knew, you could return it.

Luckily, the walk to Larissa’s office was short, since you started to feel tired from walking already. You knocked on her door. And waited. And knocked again. You frowned. It was Friday afternoon. Larissa never had any appointments at this time… had she? You heard footsteps behind you. “She just had to pick up Wednesday from the policestation”, you heard Vlad say. “oh! Of course.”, you said. You looked at him and gave him a small smile. “thanks.”

When you were in your rooms, you raised the plushy to eyelevel. “oh, what to do with you?”, you said to the plushy. You frowned a bit. Eventually, you decided to make a picture with it and send iy to Larissa, asking whose plushy it is and telling her you kept it safe untill the owner reclaimed it. When you sent the picture, you picked up the plushy again. “Well, wanna make some new friends for the time being? Come one, I’ve got some cute friends for you!”, you said enthousasticly. Although you felt quite sick, the thought of your own plushies made you quite happy. “Look, I got a guard bear over there, from my visit to London, he protects everyone… and look! My me to you bears, they are cute and fluffy, and that big brown bear over there I got from my uncle when I was two… I think you’ll fit in his lap quite well!”, you told the plushy quite happily. You jawned. You were really tired. “wait for me when you want to sleep. I’mma get changed. I need a nappy!”, you told your plushies and the new kitten. When you crawled under the blankets a few minutes later, you fell asleep almost immediatly.

___

Larissa paced around in her office worried. What happened to Kitty? She had brought her to her classroom that day, simply because she didn’t trust the new cleaner. What if she decided to steal her Kitty, or just throw her away? Larissa was nervous about bringing her plushy, since the chance of anyone finding out she had a plushy or the fact that she could lose her was too big to her, but she wasn’t letting her in her rooms with that mean cleaner. But after class, she got a call that Wednesday was arrested again and she had to run to the policestation to pick her up, and she couldn’t remember what she had done with her plushy. She remember rushing to pack her stuff, but Kitty wasn’t in her bag, so Kitty must’ve been still in the classroom. But when she went to her classroom, Kitty wasn’t there either.

Larissa started to panick. Were was her Kitty? Was she alone? Was she scared? Who knew. She wanted to call you about it. Ask for your help finding her. But she was scared of your reaction, since you didn’t know about her Kitty yet and het normaly perfect make-up was ruined from the crying and tantrums she had because she couldn’t find Kitty anywhere. She looked at her phone on her desk, doubting if she should call you or not. Precisely at that moment, her screen lit up. Slightly suprised, she walked to her phone. It was a message from you, with a picture of –

“KITTY!”, Larissa almost yelled out hapily. “Hey Riss, I found this cute plushy in your classroom, do you know whom it belongs to? Can you tell them I bring it to my room and that they can pick it up there?”, she read aloud softly. She had do read the message multiple times before the realisation came her plushy was safe. “She’s save, she’s save, she’s save!”, Larissa almost sang when jumping around in her room. “But know I have to tell y/n that the plushy is mine.”. Now, Larissa frowned a bit. “oh well, she wouldn’t mind I guess. And if she does, I don’t care. I want my Kitty back.”. And with that, she quickly put on her shoes and walked to your room.

___

You quickly woke up from a knock on your door. You looked at the time on your phone. “Oh shit, 9 already!”, you mumbled. You stumbled the door and saw Larissa standing there. She looked like a complete mess. “Larissa? Come in, are you okay? You look like you’ve been crying!” “Yes… Yes, I’m okay now, thank you.”. She stepped in. “Are yóú okay though? You sound horrible.” “Nah, I think I’ll have to cancel our plans for tomorrow. I’m afraid I cought a flu too. But tell me Riss, why have yoj been crying?”. Larissa opened her mouth to say something, and then closed it again. She played with a ring on her finger nervously. “The kitten plushy you found? That one is mine. I lost her. I got her ages ago and I grew fond of her, and then I thought I lost her for good because l couldn’t find her anywhere, and then I got upset because my Kitty is just the sweetest and I was so tired and I just wanted my Kitty and…” Larissa stopped talking. She looked at her feet nervously. “Ooh she’s yours! Don’t worry, I can understand you were scared!” “Do you? I’m certain you think I’m chidlish.”. You took her hand and almost pulled her to your bedroom. “No I don’t! Look, I got to show you something!”.

___

When they walked into y/n’s bedroom, Larissa could feel her eyes get big. Her bed was full of cute plushies, and there, on the lap of a big brown bear was her Kitty. “Look Rissa, your Kitty wasn’t alone here! No reason to be scared!”. Y/n pulled Larissa closer to the bed. “Look, Bear was cuddling her. And Guardbeary protects all the plushies. And look! So much friends!”. Y/n sounded happy as a child, despite not feeling well. Larissa watched as she climbed under her blankets again. “Here, there’s your Kitty!”, y/n said, after which she grabbed a plushie to hold for herself. Larissa smiled softly and planted a kiss on Kitty’s head. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I wont ever lose you again.”. Larissa noticed y/n looking at her. “What?”, she asked her. “Do you sometimes feel little as well?”. Larissa thought about that for a moment. “Yes. Mostly when I’m alone with Kitty in my room. It works well with loneliness and stress…”. Y/n smiled. “it does, doesn’t it! Why do you think I collect plushies?”. Larissa giggled. Y/n was cute like this actually. In the middle of all her plushies. “Should I tuck you in, my sweet y/n? You’re still ill.” “Yes please! But who is going to tuck you in?”. Larissa thought about that for a moment. “Tonight I’m going to manage myself I guess. I got Kitty back as my support!”. Larissa smiled when she saw y/n immediatly grab for a plushy and close her eyes when she was fully tucked in. “Goodnight, Y/n.” “goodnight, Rissa. Don’t forget your Kitty.”. Larissa stood up and walked through the door. When she opened the door, she heard her name again. “Rissa? Can we have a playdate tomorrow? With our plushies?”. Larissa hugged her Kitty tighter hapily. “I’d love to.”.

[girlfailure-smut-hour]

The Reaper's Bloody Fangs

Kinktober Part 1 of 4: Vampire

Nsfw content MDNI

Characters: Vampire!Thirteen X GN!Reader

CW: Nipple play, Oral (Giving and receiving,) Hair pulling., Blood drinking. Reader's gender is not mentioned, ambiguous gentials. A little sweet, but mostly very aggressive.

A/N: I've never written vampire stuff before, but what better time? Thirteen just seemed like a good candidate. Also I can't help but make her aggressive and vulgar, but I think it suits her. ~1300 words.

Please check out my fic masterlist <3

You'd never quite known what to make of Thirteen. She was strange, and mysterious, but seemingly smitten with you for reasons you couldn't quite discern. You weren't quite sure if you could trust her, but it was impossible to deny that she had an allure to her. Her long, colorful hair and beautiful ophidian eyes were strangely attractive, but you couldn't help but feel like it was a trap.

She'd made a habit of staying near to you recently, like you were magnetic to her. Some invisible factor kept her coming back like an addiction. It wasn't the worst thing in the world. She was funny, charming, and pleasant to look at, so why not?

It all came together when you were doing dishes. She was sitting nearby, chatting with you as she did her nails. Typical flirtation was building up as you worked. She stopped mid-sentence when you cut your finger. Just a small prick with a knife, but enough to draw blood.

You shake your hand and dry it off. As you turn around you see her frozen in place, but panting. She has a dire expression unlike anything you've seen before. Typically so fun and light, she now looks almost enraged. You can see fangs peeking out from behind her lips.

"Are you okay?" You ask.

She's silent, a burning gaze fixed on your finger. She takes a deep, shuddering breath and lets it out.

"Hey, you're scaring me," You tell her.

In the blink of an eye she appears in front of you, holding your wrist. "You're just so irresistible," She says, holding your finger above her open mouth and letting a drop of blood fall in. "I couldn't help myself. You smell so sweet, I just can't get enough." She sticks your finger in her mouth, and sucks some of the blood out. In spite of the fear, you can't help but think about how nice the inside of her mouth feels and how you might want it elsewhere.

Your breath grows ragged and excited and you want to tell her all kinds of things. Like how excited, but scared she's making you, or how sensual it feels to have your finger in her mouth. That you're aroused by her interest in your blood.

"I can't take this," She pants, "I need more. I need to bury my fangs inside you."

At this rate you're afraid she'll take it from you whether you want her to or not which is exciting in its own way. You blush and look down. "I wouldn't mind," You say.

An evil grin spreads across her face. With your wrist still in hand, she pulls you away. "Where are we going?" You ask.

"My room," She replies curtly.

Your heart is pounding and you don't know what to expect as she drags you down the hall to her room. Of all the ways you expected things to take off with Thirteen, you never could have anticipated this.

She's walking fast, pulling you behind her. You can barely even keep up. Her breath is so ragged and heavy, you're afraid she might not even make it to her room; that she would just tear your clothes off right here in the hall and dig her fangs into your neck.

She's so frantic that when she does reach her room, she has to fiddle with the door to get it open, the excitement overtaking her and numbing her coordination.

As the door opens, she whisks you in and tosses you onto the bed. "Fuck I want you so bad," She mutters, leaning over you. She climbs onto the bed and kisses you. Her lips are sweet, and you can feel her fangs with your tongue. It makes your heart pound in both excitement and terror.

She pulls away and looks into your eyes. "You smell so sweet you have no idea how hard it was to resist you."

"You didn't need to," You reply, as she begins to remove your top. As your shirt comes over your head, she plants frantic little kisses all over your chest, desperate, and clingy. She drags her hands across your skin so hard it nearly hurts.

Sitting up, she takes her top off and removes her shorts. She crawls up until she's kneeling over your face, her wet pussy just inches from your mouth. She eases down onto you, and grabs your hair, pulling you onto her and grinding on your face.

She tastes sweeter than you expect. You run your tongue up and down her folds as she moans and gyrates her hips. She's in full control, dragging your tongue across her cunt at her own pace. You moan, feeling enough pleasure just getting pushed around by her like this. As your tongue circles her clit, she throws her head back, nearly screaming in pleasure. “That feels so good,” She growls, grinding into your face even harder.

Her legs clamp down around the side of your head and begin to shake. “Fuck, I’m cumming,” She rattles out as a long, shuddering groan escapes her mouth. After a moment you feel her go nearly limp in post-orgasmic pleasure.

She climbs off of your face and plants a sweet kiss on your cheek. “Fuck, that was amazing,” She whispers in your ear.

She licks her fingers and reaches down by your legs. You feel her wet fingers exploring your entrance, before she suddenly plunges them in. You cling to her, moaning and gyrating your hips.

You feel her move her face down into your neck, as she leaves wet little kisses all over it. Suddenly, her fangs sink into the flesh of your neck. It hurts at first, but soon a warm, calm, tingling feeling spreads through your body, like the come-down from an adrenaline rush. It radiates out from your neck until it envelops your entire body, filling you with a toe-curling arousal.

She works her fingers expertly as she sucks your blood. Growling, she says, “You taste even better than I could have imagined.”

You don’t even know what to say. Is that a compliment? Whatever it is, you’re growing incoherent from the pleasure already as she fingers you. Slowly, she drifts away from the two little holes she made in your neck and finds herself between your legs.

She looks up at you without taking her fingers out as she hovers her mouth over your genitals.`Her hot breath beats over you, and you can see her still-red fangs barely hidden by her lips. After a shuddering, anticipatory sigh, she brings her mouth down onto you. Your back arches immediately at the new pleasure, her warm mouth pulling you into intense, mind-numbing delight.

You never had much of a chance to resist the orgasm building up inside. The combination of her long, slender fingers curling skillfully inside of you, and her dexterous tongue dancing wildly against you brings it upon you more quickly than you could have expected.

As she moves her head, you clench down on her with your thighs. “I’m cumming,” You moan, but she doesn’t stop, even as your shaking legs try to hold her in place. You twitch and convulse while she runs her tongue all over you and you spill your warm, sweet pleasure onto her tongue.

When the orgasm finally subsides, you push her away, giggling.

“Too much?” She asks with a coy smile.

You just smile and collapse, falling limp on the bed. You sigh contentedly, and Thirteen giggles, throwing herself onto the bed next to you.

“What did you think?” She asks.

“Good…” You say, trying to string together a coherent thought. “It was sooo good.”

“Then you wouldn’t mind if we did that again?”

“That would be nice,” You say, turning your head and resting your face in the crook of her neck. She gently strokes your hair and runs fingers softly against your skin.

[writtenbyaris]

my creative writing process as a planner 🌟

the idea:

story ideas come to me at the most random and inconvenient of times. right before i fall asleep, when i'm in the shower, during my classes, etcetera. my main rule is to always write them down, whether it's in my notes app or a slip of paper or a journal... i'll forget it if i don't.

i try keeping it simple at this stage and not thinking too deeply about it, otherwise it becomes quite overwhelming. sometimes ¡'ll make a pinterest board depending on what the idea is. if it's more of an aesthetic, then i can make a moodboard out of it to help inspire me more. however, if the idea is a plot of some sort, that can be a bit more difficult.

character and world building:

this is my favorite part. once i have an idea set in stone and i'm ready to work on it, i begin building the characters and the world around it. i figure out the mechanics of the idea and how it can relate to characters and the world they're in.

at this point, i'm definitely making pinterest boards, playlists, and picrews to feel more immersed in the skeleton of the story.

i still keep it as simple as possible, and try to enjoy it. when i try juggling too many things at once, i end up wanting to abandon the project. slow and steady is the key for me :)

creating the story:

now we get down to what being a writer actually is.. transforming the idea into a story. i have to at least come up with one major plotline to start. i usually write in my journal during this stage, but sometimes i'll use notion to organize everything and keep track of it all.

oftentimes, the main plot will come to me when i'm working on character and world building. sometimes it's even the idea that first popped into my head. the story is usually influenced by dreams i've had, my own every day experiences, and other media i consume.

arcs, subplots, themes, etc:

this stage is for the smaller details that are vital for the story to flow and actually work. it's like a puzzle that's finally coming together.

for me, a story isn't a good one without arcs and themes, so those are of utmost importance. subplots are necessary to make the world more immersive, give readers insight on the characters, and keep the story naturally flowing. everything has to be woven back in to the main plot or idea, though.

i will say, this is the stage that tends to give me the biggest headache :P

zero draft:

jumping into a first draft as a heavy planner is too scary for me. so i came up with the idea of a zero draft. basically- zero expectations.

this is the backbone of my story. in this stage, i'm basically just taking myself through the steps of the story. i organize the plot and subplots into chapters, and with each chapter i go through all the beats of each scene. literally every. single. thing. that happens.

i don't usually include dialogue in this phase, but i do mention when a character will be in a conversation. all the focus should be on putting a needle and thread through the story and tying it all together.

first draft:

the first draft is somewhat easier for me because i do a zero draft. so, i know everything that will happen in a chapter and just have to utilize my writing abilities to make it rhythmic.

this is the first stage where i write dialogue, so it tends to be corny. a lot of my writing can be cliche and basic as well. that's what editing is for though!

i usually stress the most when writing my first draft, because it's the first time the story is actually being written in the format of a novel. by the end, it's not always very good either. but i do not look back at all, which means absolutely no editing until the first draft is finished.

and so on…

once the first draft is finished, then comes draft two. it's enjoyable to be able to read your own work all over again, though it's sometimes embarrassing as writing does improve with practice.

i focus on one chapter at a time-reading slowly, editing, filling in plot holes, fixing anything that changed later in the story. i try to catch as many details as i can.

usually, after as many rounds of editing one likes, the draft would be sent to an editor and beta readers. then i'd look into publishing companies (can you tell i haven't gotten to that point yet? lol)

are you a planner or a pantser?

[amethystina]

i still like your idea of the fanfic where, soohyun gets injured but doesn't die, and the rest is canon but gaon doesn't know yohan is alive... You put it in one of the chapters note (i forgot which chapter) i am a sucker for angst and i like to give myself sadness lol... I can imagine how broken and angst ridden gaon would be. It would be a devastating sight but also delicious.

It is a fascinating thought! But, admittedly, also the idea I'm the least likely to write out of all the ones I've come up with — for the very same reason why you like it x'D

I'm really not a fan of angst and sadness and, sometimes, I can look at a story idea and realise that it wouldn't be fun for me to write. And this one is, unfortunately, one of those. Because it would focus so much on Ga On's grief and his failing relationship with Soo Hyun and I just... don't want to write that?

Sure, it would be fascinating, but also way too depressing for me. Partly because I don't see an easy solution. Like, even if Ga On eventually finds out that Yo Han is alive, just how bad would he feel? How bad would they both feel? And just how much more pain and anguish would they have to wade through? Would they even be willing to try?

Basically, now that I've had time to think about it further, I've realised that it just doesn't work. The math isn't mathing in this scenario, at least not for a fic written in my fairly realistic and down-to-earth style.

Because it would, quite frankly, be easier for them to just cut their losses and continue living their separate lives. I think the hurt would be too much for either of them to come to terms with and reconcile. So, on top of being a very depressing story overall, it wouldn't have a happy ending, either. Which means it immediately gets disqualified because I only want happy endings xD

I wouldn't be able to give it a happy ending with a clear conscience because, sure, we all know Yo Han is a vicious asshole and Ga On is good at forgiving him. But this?

Faking his own death for months, maybe years, and not telling Ga On about it, instead leaving him to grieve — on top of all the guilt he's already feeling? And for what? Because Yo Han was hurt? Because he was jealous of Soo Hyun? Because he wanted to punish Ga On?

Well, Yo Han would certainly achieve that.

Ga On would be an absolute wreck.

And, to be entirely honest with you, I think Ga On would be too broken after spending only god knows how long thinking Yo Han is dead because of him. Because, let's face it — that's what Ga On would believe.

I wouldn't know how to fix that. I don't want to fix it because if Yo Han truly did all that to Ga On — something so vindictive and cruel — I'd side with Soo Hyun and say that it's probably best for the two of them to stay apart. Because, clearly, they're going to destroy each other eventually. Especially since Ga On would most likely become suicidal again. And Yo Han must have predicted that might happen but still chose not to tell Ga On about being alive.

And, sure, I understand being hurt and angry — Yo Han has no obligation to forgive Ga On for the things he did. But to intentionally choose to put another person — someone you care about — in a situation where you know they might end up wanting to take their own life? Just to get revenge?

Unforgivable, in my opinion.

But that leads us to the part where we also have to ask if Yo Han truly would do that and, personally, I don't think so. Maybe that's me giving Yo Han too much grace, but I really don't think he'd be that cruel considering how much he cares about Ga On. Maybe he wants Ga On to suffer a bit, sure, but not die.

So, in the end, the whole thing is a bit of a moot point x'D

The scenario doesn't work with how I choose to interpret these characters.

I think a more likely outcome if Soo Hyun doesn't die is that Yo Han would still do all the things he does in the drama, including telling Ga On that he's alive, but then go radio silent. Like, go to Switzerland and just focus on himself and Elijah. But do it more firmly than in Who Holds the Devil when he always had plans to return. Here he wouldn't.

Which is painful, too, but not quite as bad as "I'm knowingly letting you think you had a hand in killing me." And Ga On would still wallow and he'd still realise that his relationship with Soo Hyun isn't what he thought it would be, but without the looming threat of Ga On's (in my opinion) likely suicide. They might actually be able to reconcile eventually.

But, even then, I'm not sure if this is a story I would want to write. At least not right now when I'm already struggling with both my physical and mental well-being. It just wouldn't be healthy for me and, most likely, not something I'd enjoy. Some people get a feeling of release and catharsis from writing about difficult things, but I'm not one of them. I just end up feeling worse because I have to immerse myself in the misery to a point where I just sink even deeper into it.

So while I agree that this is an interesting and quite dramatic scenario, I've realised it's just not for me. In more ways than one xD

But if someone else wants to write it, then go for it! :D

[shrimpalbuspotter]

I am so sorry for lack of posts on my end as of recent... stuff has been hectic lately and I've always put my wellbeing ahead of my social-media life so I don't wanna rush myself into posting/fixing up drafts/writing fics since I know they won't be very coherent.

In the meanwhile, things I am working on and which will be out as soon as I am out of this slump are:

- "Marauders era Snape centric fic", quite low on my priority list since I have like 5 other much more important things I need to write for my classes and I just don't have the energy to also go home and write in my free time

- "In defense of Albus 'Severus' Potter", have been working on this any time I can, probably my top priority since it something I'm very passionate about but it'll take a while to be out since again, not alot of spare time and also I'm trying to pull up as much stuff as I can to add to it

- "Cursed Child band fic", lowest on the priority list solely because its not really planned and I don't have many ideas for it besides the main plot.

- "Dark Lord Albus Severus", I've written half of my answers for both asks I've gotten on this specific topic but plan to erase one and just link it to the other post. I just keep forgetting to be fair It's pretty low down in drafts...

- "Why Scorpius is a Slytherin and not a Ravenclaw" ok it came to me just last night and I had so many ideas and want it out ASAP. probably will be my next post!

And um... that's it! I don't know why I felt the need to make this post but usually when I blank an account link this it means I've made another one for another media I enjoy more now. This isn't what happened here!!! I still love Harry Potter!!! And to my 3 other accounts, I'm so sorry

[ultrakatua]

Writer interview game

Tagged by @reallyhatethiswebsite who is, indeed, good at describing dicks.

Tagging @queenlua because I'm nosy <3

When did you start writing?

Since forever. I still have old stories I wrote when I was like 7.

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

A solid 90% of what I read is sci-fi. I don't have the brain required to write good sci-fi. Or maybe I just lack the confidence, I don't know. But yeah. It's intimidating.

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

No. I'm pretty neutral about myself but like... If I'm not me, what's the point you know? I really don't admire people in general.

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

Most of it I do on my laptop. I'll sometimes write on my phone. Eveything is in my cloud. I'm employed and totally a boomer about the softwares I use, so I actually pay for Office and for a neat grammatical tool that doubles as a dictionary because English Is Hell.

What's your most effective way to muster up a muse?

I Don't Control The Hyperfixation.

(I'm just very weird about very specific things until they consume me)

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

I like stories about people utterly destroyed by life and who are forced to confront all that stuff. But they can't be fixed. I love sad/bittersweet endings that have you look at the last words of the story and dissociate on the spot.

I've never written a happy end in my entire life and probably never will.

I'm a depressed bitch, so nothing really shocking there.

What is your reason for writing?

The whimsy answer: My internal dialog is ON h24. Putting it on paper feels good.

The rational answer: I used to have a blog dedicated to literary analysis and meta posting (something I'm actually totally ok to say I'm very good at), but with the death of blogging and the current state of fandom discourse, I stopped writing these things. Instead I shit all my headcanons into my fics.

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

When people are as pretentious with my writing as I am with it in my head. I don't have to align with their understanding of the text, but I like to keep things ambiguous for that reason. I'm totally down for people overanalysing everything, because I do it as well. Keep in mind I'm the kind of weirdo who will spend 15 minutes thinking about what term I must use for "cock" to obtain the best effect.

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

Apparently people perceive me as cold and intimidating which is????

Like. I'm just some gal.

I hope people know that I always finish the stories I start, though. I want to be trustworthy in a sense.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

I have no fucking idea. I'm a very analytical person, but it doesn't really translate to anything in creative writing... So going by what people have said of me: I'm good with characterization apparently.

How do you feel about your own writing?

When I write in French, it's all over for you (I literally never will).

But more seriously, English is challenging but I'm getting better at it. It's still a long way to go, though. I like to challenge myself to get better.