#this is one sided because you came anonymously into my ask box

[moonlit-imagines]

No One’s Sidekick

Jason Todd x teen!reader

warnings: needles and guns and death mentions ya know

a/n: ok i was gonna do headcanons for this but honestly it sparked a lot of inspiration so im actually writing a oneshot for it this is a ONE IN A MILLION CHANCE bc im very picky about when to write oneshots ily. might do hcs also just cuz arkham knight is my passion. (honestly i should have just done hcs idk if i like where i went with this LMAO)

prompt: anonymous: “hi idk if you write Arkham Jason Todd but if if you do is it possible if you can do a Arkham Jason Todd x fem teen reader and reader is his sidekick”

Imagine a life where you had nothing, you were the lowest anyone could go, and you were just a kid. Now imagine that there was someone standing in front of you, telling that same story, and offering you a chance to turn it all around because they knew how it felt to be you.

That someone was Jason Todd. You found each other by chance, somewhere in the Gotham slums. He walked past you down a dimly lit alley full of used needles and rotting trash, noticing a kid just a few years younger hiding from the world. You noticed a guy in a hoodie hiding a nasty scar on his cheek.

He reached out a hand, hoping you’d take it. He saw a look in your eyes that you’d been like this a while. And you might have noticed the same in his. Which is why after trusting nobody for years, you took this stranger’s hand. “I remember when I was a kid waiting in shitty places woth the hope someday it’d change. And it did one day. Someone found me and changed my life.” He explained after buying you a burger and fries.

“Was it for the better?” You asked him with a mouthful of food.

“I don’t know anymore.” He looked shaken himself, and you could tell by the bags under his eyes this may have been a subject that kept him up at night, maybe took up his waking moments, too. “How long have you been alone?”

“Practically forever. Every once in a while I felt like I was on steady ground and then…something always happens.” You sighed, taking a sip of your soda. “But I learned how to get by on my own. I had to. And I have to protect myself.” Jason raised a brow.

“You protect yourself yet you’re willing to go off with a stranger?” He asked, giving you a warm smile.

“Jason, right?” He nodded at the question. “Jason Todd?” His expression dropped. Before he could stammer out a response, you leaned back on your side of the booth and said, “everyone around here knows you one way or another, but everyone thought you were dead after you disappeared.”

“Did you know who I was when you came here with me?” Jason spoke lowly.

“Nope.” You flatly responded. “But I figured it out along the way. You used to live in my building when I was a kid, I knew I recognized you from somewhere.”

“3B?” He asked.

“That’s the one. You remember?” You smiled.

“I remember a scared little kid with dirt all over their face no matter what time of day.” You both chuckled. “Wow, it’s been a long time. I guess I’m glad we ran into each other.”

“It’s nice. I just don’t know where to go from here.” You took the last few bites from your meal, averting your eyes from his gaze, nervous for what was to come, but also hopeful. At this point, you didn’t care what you did or where you went, as long as you had some kind of purpose. Spending your youth in sleeping in wet boxes or crashing on a sunken-in, stained couch was no longer something you could stand doing.

“I had an idea. A while ago. But I just didn’t know how to go about it.” He revealed with a long pause, mustering up better details to share. “I dont know. It sounds crazy, but maybe not anymore.”

“Can you get to the point?” You tilted your head, eager for a bit more.

“Yeah, yeah…” He gulped. “I talked to this guy, it was after some really bad shit went down,” he brushed his scarred cheek, “this high-profile assassin wanted to train me—work with me. There are some demons I have to face, but I need some help to get ready.” You stared blankly for a minute, fingernail scratching the tabletop as you thought about his words. “It’s out of the country, somewhere in South America.”

“You’re crazy.” You stated. “I’m in.” Jason’s eyes widened. “Anything to get me out of Gotham. And you’re Jason Todd, I’d trust you with my life, even after all this time.” His expression softened and he kind of chuckled, in disbelief of you and himself.

“I—I guess I gotta go make a call.” Jason knocked his hand on the table. “Go ahead and order dessert, I’ll be back in a few.” He stepped out the front door and opened his phone, scrolling down to a contact labeled “S. Wilson.” It rang twice. “I’m in, and one more will be joining us.”

“I’ll make the arrangements for your travels, stay on the line.” Said Slade, there were faint keyboard clicks. “I have a private jet that awaits you at eight a.m. tomorrow. I will send you the address, don’t be late.” The phonecall ended abruptly and Jason went back to your table, finding you eating a slice of pie.

“Tomorrow morning we get to fly in a private jet.” Jason saw your face light up. “Never been?”

—————

Venezuela was incredible to you, even if it was a bit more humid than you were used to. On the plane ride, Jason told you everything. He didn’t spare one detail, he didn’t care. You were another Gotham City orphan with a dark past and a bright future. You two were ready for anything.

It was grueling. It was incredible. It was nothing you’d experienced before. Which was terrifying. But invigorating. You could tell Jason felt right back in his element, but you were desperately trying to catch up. He’d had much training before this, relevant to the current situation. You’re training went as far as standard Gotham Slums scuffling. Your skills included switchblade maneuvers, aiming for the crotch, running from trouble and climbing from trouble. Nothing like this ever seemed possible for you. But Jason knew what it felt like to be brought from your level to his. And as Deathstroke brought Jason to his level, he’d make sure you’d catch up.

—————

“I think you two are ready.” Slade announced as both of you stood before him. Straight backs, eyes forward, and arms behind your backs. “The plan is to be enacted soon, and you,” he turned his attention to Jason, “it’s up to you what we do from here. Gotham City finally meets its match?” He suggested. Jason nodded his head once and you followed. And so it began, the planning phase.

—————

You looked at Gotham from down below. Smaller than you remembered. The whirring of the helicopter blades lulled you away from reality for a few moments before Jason tapped you, motioning for you to come up front with him. You slid your headset on and heard him begin barking orders at the militia before setting your comms to private. “How’s it feel?” Jason asked you.

“I don’t know, actually.” You replied, doing a final check to make sure your guns were loaded and secured. “What about you?”

“It feels like I’m finally getting my revenge.” His voice modulator sent a chill down your spine and you soon landed in Gotham. The plan went off without a hitch. Gotham evacuated, scum running loose, Batman distracted, and his allies scattered. It was exciting, but something was off. Scarecrow’s plan didn’t sit well with you. It was gruesome, even to you. You never really cared about anyone but yourself, but as Jason lost his humanity, you gained it. “I’ve got your back, y/n. You got mine?”

“Always, Knight.” He chuckled as the chopper began to descend. “Let’s kill the Batman.”

taglist: @ravenmoore14 // @summersimmerus // @xoxobabydolls // @evilcr0ne // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @elenavampire21 // @deanzboyfriend //

[boyinatown]

Treat me like a slut with Goo Eli and Johan ?

TREAT ME LIKE A SLUT! 🎀

Pairing: lookism men x f! Reader 💗 pt2

Warning: sexual theme and make out sesh 💋!

Summary: lookism men react to the song: treat me like a slut when you play your playlist !

GOO KIM 💎

This sex maniac has the HIGHEST sex drive, so it’s no kidding that even just a brush against his crotch would have you bent over and fucked ruthless.

When this song played during a tik tok, goo immediately turned around to you wiggling his eyebrows. you brushed him off saying it’s just a song, but he’s already imagining things.

And there you were being fucked into the couch the popcorn of movie night falling down and decorating the floor. the movies sounds now being muted by your moans and protests against the blondie on top of you.

The scratches and bites were useless against him ,you made him hard and you were gonna pay for it. He puts you on your right side one leg in the air and his leg between your thighs. Cock pumping in and out of you, you try and smack his arm and scratch it. But he just grips your wrists and holds them down your chest just pounding away.

“No we’re not done yet, not until your spilling with my cum.” His voice deep and a few whimpers leave his mouth.

“G-ooah! It’s to much, it’s to muhhh!” Your babbling gets quickly shut up by his own lips connecting with yours. Tongue forcing inside your mouth his hips not even stopping for a second.

“I’ll show ya how a slut gets treated, cockwhore .”

ELI JANG 💇‍♂️

You often babysat yenna for Eli, all he asked you is to watch your language near her. Simple right? Wrong. you forgot you were around a child and sang the song anyways.

One minute you were watching yenna and the next you were thrown on a bed. Before it all got dark.

“Ah, ah ohh! Shitttt! Eli, Mmphm!-“

Smack!

One harsh slap against your jiggling ass has you crying even louder wailing, but it drives you crazy causing you to move back against Eli’s cock that was drilling inside you.

“I told you watch that fucking filthy mouth, and what did you do? Disobey me.”

SMACK! SMACK ! SMACK! !!

the spanking gets harder and harder till the point you can feel stinging, but still you move back against him smiling at him in pleasure.

Your face getting pushed more into the pillow and Eli yanking your hair back with one hand while the other keeps spanking you.

“Ah your smiling are you? Let’s change that, slut.”

“Keep up , because I’m gonna absolutely fuckin’ ruin you, that’ll teach you.”

JOHAN SEONG 🐕

This poor guy just wanted to finish his day from white tiger job center, but when he came home to the sight of you just naked getting ready for bed you couldn’t prepare yourself for what was to come.

All you felt in the moment was his tie from his suit placed in your mouth forming a gag.

“What’s wrong? Come on speak up. tell me what you want baby.”

He laughs at your crying form, legs spread to your chest and each time he thrusts the bed shakes and your breasts slightly jiggle.

Holding onto his neck he increases his speed and roughness hitting that one spot that made you arch your back and toes curl. he kissed your cheeks and mocked your crying face.

“Oh? Oh? Oh? Your moans are pathetic do you know that? Like a real porn star, aren’t you just cute.”

“Just prepare yourself, we’ve got a long night ahead I’ll turn you into a real slut.”

The only time you punks ask for fics is when I’m on an vacation, but I love you little rebels so it’s fine.

💌 ask box continues to stay open, and for all the anonymous people that requested fics, they’ll be uploaded soon.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hey Raven! Hope you're doing well, and I hope you had a great holiday, if you celebrate, that is.

I hate to clutter your ask box with something like this, and you don’t have to answer, you can just read this with an open mind, but I feel you're the only one I could go to with this without being straight-up attacked. It's also why I'm asking anonymously.

But, what's your stance on the whole war between the JP and EN versions of the game? I'm not asking you to pick a side or anything, I just wanna know your thoughts.

Obviously, I'm an EN player, and idk if you seen, but there's some hateful things out there about us, and honestly, it's hurtful and disheartening to every time I get up here. And it's always on this we as players can't control. Mainly the dialog translations and it's changes.

I've seen people calling us dumb and weak, saying we water down everything because we can't take it, etc. I've seen people saying we don't know how to really correctly and analyze characters and that we're not even playing the same game. They say we've ruined the game, the fandom, and that they wished it was never localized. I've also seen quite horrible things, but I don’t wanna repeat the things said, but yeah.

And the kicker is, it's only the JP side I've seen post this stuff. I've seen more hate come from that side more than anything, and of course not all, like you. You're my fave btw.

So yeah, thoughts?

Hello, hello! ^^ I’m not really a super big celebration person but I’m hunkering down for a cozy hibernation this winter ❄️ I hope everyone had/will have a good 2023 holiday season~

Before I provide my response to the question posed in this ask, I want to make sure we're all on the same page for this discussion first:

Please be advised that my perspective is coming from that of someone who started off playing JP in March 2020 and then picked up EN when it came out in January 2022. I have played on both servers since their initial launches.

When I refer to TWST JP and EN fans in this post, I am only referring to the English speaking fans (as in, English speaking fans who play JP and English speaking fans who play EN).

For the sake of simplicity, I will be disregarding “hybrid” fans (English speaking fans who play both JP and EN) as a separate category and will lump them in with “JP” fans (English speaking fans who play JP). This is because I assume most mixed fans started off with JP and then adopted EN later on.

I am not talking about ALL English-speaking JP and/or EN fans here; I am only talking about the ones Anon described in their ask.

As the Anon said, I ask that you go into this post with an open mind; do not assume that I will bash JP and/or EN, take sides, defend or condone toxic attitudes, or that this post exists just to “stir the pot”. That is not the purpose of my response. The purpose is to have a meaningful and constructive discussion about TWST’s fandom culture, particularly as it pertains to English-speaking fans. I hope that in talking about this, we can better understand “the other side” (however you may personally define that) and work toward making the fandom space more welcoming for all.

Please read the entire post and think about your own choice of words before commenting and/or sending in an ask about this topic, should you choose to.

To the Anon that submitted this ask and to anyone else that plays EN and may have had similar thoughts: I’m sorry to hear about the negative experiences you’ve had in the TWST fandom. I hope that this post brings you some peace of mind, if not at least some catharsis for what you may be feeling.

Firstly, it’s important to understand the mindset of both JP and EN fans. As such, I will delve into the background and the development of each side. It is NOT meant to justify either side, but rather to inform you on how each perspective originated and grew to what it is today.

The animosity and opposition to an official English version of TWST has been present for a while. An English version of TWST has always been contentious, even long before the localization was announced. Some wanted it to happen for accessibility reasons (as some people find it tedious to hunt for translations) or were supportive of the idea because it means a larger fanbase and thus more potential to make friends or to discuss the game. Others were more apprehensive of the quality of a localization (as much tends to be cut or censored to make the content more palatable) and/or claimed that expanding the fanbase in such a way would bring in more “bad apples”.

When EN first came out, it did, in fact, expand the fanbase. However, many were quick to notice the many (and I do mean many) errors and short sightings present in it: frequent spelling and grammar mistakes in the game and on official social media posts, inconsistent phrasing, incorrect translations, game-breaking glitches, frequent censorship, half-hearted promotions, etc. EN also became infamous for its absolutely brutal pacing of content in the early days, particularly related to the limited story event schedules (including back-to-back Halloween events). This, in combination with EN’s constant pushing of paid gems (which occurs far more frequently than in the JP server) has left a bad taste in JP fans’ mouths. To them, TWST EN did not make a good first impression and continued to misstep again and again. This is especially true of the many dialogue changes to make the TWST localization more “culturally appropriate” (which is the definition of what a localization is; there is a reason why TWST is not called a translation, which would be a more accurate/“faithful” or direct translation of the dialogue).

The claim that “EN fans are weak/can’t handle the real story” likely arises from how EN has removed or altered details which may offend western audiences. This includes things like the term “master”, the mention of Azul’s weight, Kalim’s “30-40” siblings, etc. These are conscious decisions made on the part of the game localizers to make TWST more broadly appealing and appropriate for a western audience, where such topics are contentious or considered taboo. This is adapting TWST to a new culture so that it can (in a dry business sense) perform well. However, I also want to mention that some cultural changes EN made do significantly alter the story/characters (such as Jamil no longer stating his family will be on the streets if they defy the Asims; in EN he only says his parents will be mad at him), particularly if you are viewing through an EN-only lens. Unfortunately 😔 as much as I can point the nuances of localization out, there will always be fans who still oppose any sort of censorship. This is also true of the anime and manga community in general, and this post isn’t large enough in scope to tackle those issues. I only mention this here to help you, the reader, better understand the changes from Disney/Aniplex.

A lot of the original negative feelings that were there before EN was announced were then confirmed by the official release, and this strengthened the dislike of EN on the part of JP fans. These JP fans may then become hostile toward EN fans who defend the localization (whether or not they have the context of TWST JP) because, in the eyes of the JP fans, the localization is not as good as it could be. Ultimately, it seems like their intense feelings stem from passion for what they love and not wishing to see it “desecrated” rather than an actual hatred of fellow fans. JP fans are upset because they fear EN fans are not getting the full scope of the characters and a story they enjoy, and they want others to appreciate those aspects of TWST as well.

Of course 💦 the fact is that EN fans are not responsible for the localization. But EN is there and that is what is the easiest and the most time efficient for English-speaking audiences, so most people will go with that rather than alternatives (ie hunting down fan translations). The issue is that some JP fans conflate simply consuming the localization as being bad or the “wrong” thing to do, and thus, by proxy, extend this frustration to EN fans themselves (especially those those are EN only and have zero prior knowledge of JP) and not just the product. Again, this is because they tend to see JP as the “full” version, without the changes or censorship present in EN. This inevitably leads to discrepancies in understanding between JP and EN, whether due to staggered release of new content or how the characters are presented differently between the two servers. To those who say “the versions are basically the same except for minor changes”, I disagree. There are several dialogue changes that appear small in isolation, but because TWST’s narrative is told primarily via dialogue, those “small” changes are actually very large and can drastically modify how one perceives a character or situation without explicit knowledge of JP to balance it out. When Jamil is made an “employee” rather than a “servant” and worries about his parents being mad at him instead of his entire family literally being on the streets for defying the Asims, it takes away the bite from his motivations. When Cater inserts a #WOW that wasn’t there in JP while Riddle is breaking down sobbing, or makes him come off as far more insensitive than emotionally aware. These are just a few examples, but they are very prominent ones that can change how an EN only fan sees things. The idea that “we aren’t even playing the same game” can ring true to some JP players because of this.

It cannot be helped that EN fans would interpret the characters and stories differently when the localization is their only or primary source of TWST content. Not everyone has the time or the desire to look for more accurate fan translations (not all fan translations are the same quality), as some JP fans have suggested. If EN fans want to, that’s great! It’s nice to expand one’s knowledge and to be cognizant of the changes between the versions. There are many blogs out there dedicated to educating people on these matters, and many EN and JP fans alike flocking there to be informed. But that level of engagement shouldn’t be demanded of anyone. To deem those that don’t engage in “further research” as “lazy”, “dumb”, or a “fake fan” is not acceptable, not in the name of love or otherwise. The expectation to “do homework” only puts pressure on EN fans to be a certain way or else be rejected by the fandom, and that only breeds more hatred and negativity. It makes EN fans feel “not worthy” of being a fan unless they study up, when the truth of the matter is that no matter how much we like TWST, it’s… media at the end of the day. People are free to consume their choice of media however they like, and that includes casually or at their own pace. It’s not fun to be in a fandom where others are breathing down your neck and policing everything you do, especially since these spaces are meant to be a temporary escape from reality. If JP fans meant to gatekeep in an effort to make others recognize the “real” greatness of TWST, then it’s failing because this kind of attitude only serves to drive new fans away.

Among EN fans, there is this idea that “JP fans are stuck-up”. I can understand where this thinking comes from, as I have witnessed hatred for EN myself which comes unprompted and has killed many conversations. Admittedly, some points are geared toward the company themselves (and those are valid), such as rushed and/or inaccurate translations or the pushing of paid gems, but I’ve also seen my fair share of nastier, invalid comments directed at EN fans. There are JP fans who actively hope that EN will shut down or who outright dismiss EN fans because of the version they play, thinking of their thoughts and opinions as “lesser” or doubting their media literacy skills. It’s true that this behavior is out there in the fandom, and that is unfortunately a sad reality.

That being said, JP on EN hate is not the only form I see, and nor is it the majority. It goes both ways (and I would say about equally for all, although this is just based on anecdotes and not objective data). There is plenty of JP on JP hate (particularly when someone spreads mistranslations around as though it were the truth) and EN on EN hate (arguments over what is and is not appropriate to ship, differences in headcanons, harassing fans that fall outside an “acceptable” age range, etc). There is also EN on JP hate which feeds into a dangerous back-and-forth with JP on EN hate. I briefly mentioned before that EN fans tend to believe JP fans are elitist, and this leads to assumptions being made about anyone that critiques EN and sometimes lashing out about it. I myself have previously been accused of “hating” EN because I often make posts commenting on the changes made between EN and JP (which ones I think work and which I think don’t). This preemptively defensive behavior drives another wedge between JP and EN fans, making JP fans reluctant to engage with EN fans, which then fuels the belief that JP fans think they’re “better” than EN fans (when really, some JP fans may be intentionally distancing themselves for their own wellbeing). Additionally, a lot of behavior deemed more acceptable in western oriented fandom spaces (such as moral justifications, taking pictures without crediting, callouts of other fans, and incorrect use of fandom tags) are not so for JP spaces (or those familiar with JP spaces). There have also been times when EN fans harass the actual Japanese-speaking side of the fandom (be it Japanese fans or the devs themselves) and demand (not ask, but demand) content that caters to them or free translations of fan comics they make. When EN fans fail to observe such “basic fandom etiquette”, it leads to JP fans thinking them rude or entitled, which makes JP fans reluctant to interact with EN fans and, again, feeds into confirmation bias. It’s a viscous system.

What is “ruining” the fandom is not just one side. There has always been turmoil present in fandom spaces. It just appears more visible now that TWST’s popularity has grown to this scale. Right now, both sides (JP and EN) are antagonizing each other because of a loud minority that’s attacking the other side. That minority then gets extrapolated and assumed to be behavior of the entirety of the other side, and that is what keeps the hate going.

If I’m being entirely honest 😔 I don’t think these tensions will realistically ever die out; the fandom is too large to “stomp out” what has already been established in its culture. When both sides are fueled by something so strong—a passion for TWST—it’s hard to seek out and/or to consider alternative perspectives. We become fixated on their own negative experiences and fail to think about where the “others” maybe be coming from, and then close ourselves off from discussion. That promotes isolation and contempt rather than friendliness and cooperation.

If we want change, then it starts at an individual level and in smaller TWST communities. We shouldn’t assume the worst of “JP” or “EN” fans; we are all TWST fans. Let’s keep open-minded and welcome other fans and their diverse schools of thought. And if you don’t feel comfortable with that, that’s also fine! You’re allow to keep a distance and curate your online space as you like; just please don’t go out of your way to disparage others, you have your own lane and others have theirs. Don’t encroach on other lanes.

Maybe we don’t necessarily agree with each other or we think may hold different opinions—but that’s good, isn’t it? The freedom of thought and the open exchange of ideas promotes flexible thinking and can lead you to see things from a new angle, or perhaps develop a new idea of your own. If we all thought the same way, then life becomes boring or it can cultivate an “us versus them” narrative that sparks online wars.

Let me put it this way to close off the post: isn’t this the message that Twisted Wonderland itself is trying to teach us? The true value of attending Night Raven College isn’t just about receiving a good education. Countless times it has been stressed to us (and often by Lilia, the oldest and wisest of the core cast, someone who used to be resistant to opening up to outsiders) that it is vital to understand other people in spite of how different we may be. Let’s take a page out of the students’ book and try to live up to that ^^

[petrichor-idyllic]

2. Reader and Minho liked each other but noone had time to explore the feelings. But when Minho gets back from that night with Thomas in the maze the reader is so happy hes still alive and there is some tension building up...later on the keepers meeting (book scene) where Minho is a total hottie and says the most iconic stuff as usual reader cant help herself and once the meeting is over she suddenly kisses him.

This is a request from an anonymous user that asked for two in one, so I've had to separate them, and I'm bad at tumblr, but I'll post them at the same time to make them easier to find.

I actually whipped my copy of the book out to pull direct quotes from it. This was effort. Also, yes I know Chuck isn't there because he's the one that tells them about Alby, but this isn't here for accuracy points (I may or may not have also written the whole thing before noticing this myself but shhhh)

BEYOND THE OTHER SIDE

MASTERLIST | MINHO MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: See above. Book based fic. Fem!Reader.

WARNINGS: Inappropriate language, some suggestive themes but under spice because of one slightly heated make out session.

"You're still here?" You don't even bother looking up to see that it's Newt. You're sat in front of the Doors with your legs crossed, Chuck using your thigh as a pillow as you told the boy to get some sleep, even if he refused to leave your side.

"What does it look like?" The British boy sighs, rubbing your shoulder.

"You know they're not coming back, right?"

You shoot him a glare, "Don't say that- if anyone can survive out there, it's Minho."

The last twenty-four hours have been a blur. First, Minho found a 'dead' Griever, resulting in a expedition for him and Alby to go check it out.

As far as you can tell, that thing definitely wasn't dead. That much was obvious when Minho came around the corner carrying an unconscious Alby.

Every part of your body was screaming to go in there and save them- help them- anything you could think of.

But Thomas beat you to it.

It had been a weird enough week as it was with another girl showing up a day after Thomas and the Box refusing to go back down, but this was definitely the hardest blow.

Now three of them, two of the most important people in the Glade, were stuck out there.

You would be lying if you weren't playing favourites.

You and Minho have an interesting relationship, to say the least. He helped you out when you first showed up in the Box. He taught you how to defend yourself and did a good job at keeping the other boys away from you. He's surprisingly emotionally intelligent and offers an understanding to your feelings of isolation that the other Gladers can't seem to grasp. It doesn't help that he's gorgeous and kind of funny.

All of this resulting in you crushing on him. Hard.

And the feeling is mutual.

And you both know it.

After a drunken confession (and make-out session) during one of the Bonfire nights, you both decided to just be friends. After all, maintaining a relationship in the Glade isn't an easy task, and it's key for Minho to focus on his work above everything.

So, you've both been pushing your feelings for each other down in favour of the greater good.

The sexual tension has been killing you, and him, especially when you've had a bit too much to drink and he keeps looking at you like that.

But this is painful. He's gone. He could be dead and you'd never see him again. Never having fulfilled your promises of a relationship once you both escape.

You've been sitting there all night. Both you and Chuck. Chuck for Thomas, you for Minho. Some early risers sent you both sympathetic glances but it just made you angrier.

You don't need their pity. They're going to be okay. They have to be okay- he has to be.

The rumbling of the Doors startles you, even though you've been expecting it since you sat down.

"Chuck," you lightly shake the boy, causing him to stir from his slumber, "Chuck, wake up. The Doors are opening."

He's groggy, but still eagerly awakes, pulling himself off of you and allowing you to stand up.

Gladers start to gather around as the giant stone entrance prepares itself to settle for the day. You, Chuck and Newt stand at the front of the crowd, Newt's hand still lingering on your shoulder in preparation to comfort you. The blond is far more realistic than you, but he still doesn't want to watch you crumble when the hope fades.

He knows your and Minho's relationship better than anyone else. He hears about it from both sides pretty much daily.

The Doors open painfully slow, almost like they're mocking you.

It reveals an empty corridor. Your jaw tenses, and you ball your fists, trying not to let your emotions take over as you look at the floor. Newt rubs your shoulder, and you can see Chuck anxiously looking at you from the corner of your eye.

It's like all the Gladers hold their breath, waiting to see your response.

But you don't get the chance to.

"No shuckin' way," your eyes flicker up to Newt, who is staring straight ahead. You follow his gaze, watching as Minho and Thomas stumble down the stretch of concrete.

"Minho!" Your voice is scratchy and you lose all care for the rules. Rushing forward, the Runner seems to be in far better condition than the Greenie, who looks like he's seen the Devil himself.

Your feet move beneath you, diving into Minho's arms. "Woah, easy, girly," he scoffs, but his muscular arms come around you. The hug is tight and full of enough emotion to show you how terrified he was.

He's alive. Oh my God, he's alive.

"Uh, this is sweet and all, but we need to get Alby down," Thomas interrupts. You pull away from Minho.

"He's still alive?"

"He better shuckin' be," Minho sounds like he's had quite the night. "Where even is he?"

"Come on- help us!" Thimas rushes to the wall by the Doors. To your surprise, Alby is strung several feet above the air, tangled to the wall with Ivy.

"How the..." You meet Newt's equal look of disbelief, but you all get to work helping your Leader down.

Thomas and Minho basically pass out the second they get to the Med-jack's hut. You let them. The next day is about to be interesting and they both need to rest.

The Gladers are already thinking about what this all means and with the revelation that Thomas had somehow killed THREE Grievers, the Glade is in some kind of uproar.

Some people are worshipping the ground that he walks on, and others want him burned at the stake. Gally is the chancellor of the latter crowd.

Alby's got the serum, so there's a ray of hope yet. But Thomas broke the rules.

Obviously, you're of the belief that Thomas has done a good thing. Alby and Minho might not have survived if it weren't for him- how could he possibly be punished for all of this?

Thankfully, that seems to be the majority opinion. But with Newt in charge and a hatred of the poor constructed democracy of the Glade, it's hard to say what will happen.

Which is why when it came to the Gathering regarding Thomas's existence in the Glade, you're stood right outside with Chuck, not so subtly eavesdropping in.

Nearly all of the Keepers came up in a group together- "veterans" as they call themselves. So, there's not much chance of you becoming a Keeper. But now you wish you were.

"What do you think they're-?"

"Shh, Chuck," you snap at the boy, hushing him as you try to make out something audible enough to gain information from.

The general chattering seems to be pretty pointless. It's just people saying the same shit everyone's been saying since the trio returned.

It doesn't take long for silence to settle, and for Newt to give the introductory speech that he is no doubt rolling his eyes about. The Keepers each take it in turn to state their opinions, thankfully most of them siding with Thomas.

Gally then has about a forty page essay on how Thomas is the spawn of Satan until Newt finally speaks again, "With no more words from Gally- go ahead, last but not least."

Minho's distinct voice fills the room. "I was out there; I saw what this guy did- he stayed strong while I turned into a panty-wearin' chicken. No blabbin' on and on like Gally. I want to say my recommendation and be done with it."

"Good that," Newt almost seems relived. "Tell us then."

"I nominate this shank to replace me as Keeper of the Runners."

You and Chuck look at each other as silence consumes the inside of the room. Both of you wear expressions of disbelief, looking at one another to assure that you actually heard that correctly.

Unsurprisingly, Gally spoke first, screaming about how Minho should lose his spot on the Council for even suggesting such a thing.

Then chaos erupts as Newt desperately tries to calm down the boys.

"Shuck it," you really do pity Newt. He somehow got swept into everyone's bullshit and the man just wants to grow his plants. "I've never seen so many shanks acting like tit-suckin' babies. We may not look it, but around these parts we're adults. Act like it or we'll disband this bloody Council and start from scratch." A beat skips as Newt seems to compose himself, "Are we clear?"

The quiet from beyond the door tells you that they've all gotten the hint.

"Good that." Newt continues, before he seems to address Minho. "That's some pretty serious klunk, brother. Sorry, but you need to talk it up to move it forward."

You and Chuck exchange another round of stunned glances. Newt's actually considering this?

There's no way. This isn't adding up. Minho would never give up his job- he's too good at it. And you've seen him injured and on prescribed rest. He hates it. The boy can't sit still for two seconds, even when he is in the Glade. If he were to just become a normal Runner, Minho would still be far too overqualified for the gig.

"It's easy for you shanks to sit here and talk about something you're stupid on. I'm the only Runner in this group and the only other one here who's even been out in the Maze is Newt." Minho sounds frustrated and still tired.

A bad mix, to be sure.

So, of course, Gally has to open his mouth. "Not if you count the time I-"

"I don't!" Minho shouts suddenly, making Chuck jump away from the door, but you don't move. Minho's playing a game here- you just know he is.

"And believe me, you or nobody else has the slightest clue what it's like to be out there. The only reason you were stung is because you broke the same rule you're blaming Thomas for. That's called hypocrisy, you shuck-faced piece of-"

"Enough," you're actually kind of disappointed Newt shut him down. It's about time someone shouted at Gally and just hearing Minho do it is making you feel some kind of way. "Defend your proposal and be done with it."

Minho takes a second before picking up again.

"Anyway, listen to me. I've never seen anything like it. He didn't panic. He didn't whine and cry, never seemed scared. Dude, he'd been here for just a few days. Think about what we were all like in the beginning. Huddling in corners, disoriented, crying every hour, not trusting anybody, refusing to do anything. We were all like that, for weeks or months, 'till we had no choice but to shuck it up and live. Just a few days after this guy shows up, he steps out in the Maze to save two shanks he hardly knows. All this klunk about him breaking a rule is just beyond stupid. He didn't get the rules yet. But plenty of people had told him what it's like in the Maze, especially at night. And he still stepped out there, just as the Door was closing, only caring that two people needed help."

You don't think you've ever heard Minho be this passionate about anything. It's definitely only adding to your liking of him, and hearing him agree with you with such determination is making your heart rate increase.

"But that was just the beginning. After that, he saw me give up on Alby, leave him for dead. And I was the veteran- the one with all the experience and knowledge. So when Thomas saw me give up, he shouldn't have questioned it. But he did. Think about the willpower and strength it took to push Alby up that wall, centimetre by centimetre. It's psycho. It's freaking crazy."

He seems to take a breath before continuing even further.

"But that wasn't it. Then came the Grievers. I told Thomas we had to split up and I started the practised evasive manoeuvers, running in the patterns. Thomas, when he should've been wettin' his pants, took control, defied all laws of physics and gravity to get Alby up onto that wall, diverted the Grievers away from him, beat one off, found-"

"We get the point," Gally stops, halting Minho's actually quite enthralling retelling of the events. "Tommy here is a lucky shank."

"No," Minho sounds completely furious, "you worthless shuck, you don't get it! I've been here two years, and I've never seen anything like it. For you to say anything..." He trails off, followed by a loud groan of frustration.

You feel angry for him. He's right, you don't get it- you've never had to experience the horrors of the Maze and Minho does it literally every single day. How can Gally even think he has a leg to stand on?

"Gally," he's suddenly scarily calm, "you're nothing but a sissy who has never, not once, asked to be a Runner or tried out for it. You don't have the right to talk about things you don't understand. So shut your mouth."

"Say one more thing like that," you can imagine spit flying from Gally's mouth as he throws the words at your future boyfriend, "and I'll break your neck, right here in front of everyone."

"Great," Chuck mumbles, "we're already at death threats." You shush him again.

Minho laughs.

A sound that sends shivers down your spine. Probably because you can tell what's about to happen.

There's a loud slapping sound. It's followed by the noises of chairs crashing and breaking and several loud, incoherent shouts.

"I swear, Gally," Minho's voice rings above the commotion, "don't ever threaten me again. Don't ever speak to me again. Ever. If you do, I'll break your shuck neck, right after I'm done with your arms and legs."

Damn.

That was hot.

Should that be hot? Do you have some interesting problems?

Probably, yes, but that can he dealt with at a later date.

"Holy shit," you murmur, Chuck humming in shocked agreement.

There's a lot more shuffling and arguing, but unfortunately, Gally decides to talk even more.

"Things are different now. You shouldn't have done that, Minho. You should not have done that. I know you hate me, that you've always hated me. You should be Banished for your embarrassing inability to lead this group." You're assuming that this is directed at Newt. "You're shameful, and any one of you who stays here is no better. Things are going to change. This I promise."

Well, that's... ominous.

"And you, the Greenbean who thinks he's friggin' God. Don't forget I've seen you before- I've been through the Changing. What these guys decide doesn't mean jack. Whatever you came for- I swear on my life I'm gonna stop it. Kill you if I have to."

You're quick to grab Chuck, yanking him towards you and out of the way of the door which flies open. Gally looks shook up, clearly Minho did more than just shout at him from his dishevelled clothing and red face. He doesn't even glance at you as he slams the door behind him.

He storms off, leaving you and Chuck to, once again, exchange glances before shrugging it off and returning to your original positions.

The discourse continues, mainly about Gally and the Changing and what it all means, with Frypan pointing out that the guy has obviously lost his mind.

The structure falls apart pretty quick. Newt giving up completely as he makes Thomas speak his piece.

Newt finally makes his judgement.

"Here's my recommendation. You broke our bloody Number One Rule, so you get one day in the Slammer. That's your punishment. I also elect you as a Runner, effective the second this meeting's over. You've proven more in one night than most trainees do in weeks. As for you being the buggin' Keeper, forget it. Gally was right on that count- stupid idea."

You know Minho's playing a game when he argues this. "Why? He's the best we have- I swear it. The best should be the Keeper."

"Fine," Newt just wants to leave at this point, "if that's true, we'll make the change later. Give it a month and see if he proves himself."

"Good that." Minho sounds completely unfazed, almost expectant of this outcome.

The vote commences with everyone agreeing to Newt's terms; even with some queries from Winston. Newt agrees to the proposal of another Gathering if shit hits the fan.

You pull Chuck out of the way again as the door flies open, most of the Keepers in a hurry to leave. Both of you flash them some slightly suspicious, sheepish smiles because you couldn't get away quick enough to play it off.

Thomas and Minho head out, leaving Newt in the Gathering room but they continue talking in the doorway.

"Keeper?" Thomas questions, yet to notice you. "You want me to be a Keeper? You're nuttier than Gally by a long shot."

Minho fakes an evil grin. "Worked didn't it? Aim high, hit low." He playfully nudges Thomas, "Thank me later."

Thomas notices Chuck, looking between you and the boy, who speaks. "That sounded like a real klunk show."

Thomas scoffs, playfully shoving the younger kid.

Jeff suddenly comes running over, stuttering over something about Alby wanting to talk to Thomas, which peaks Newt's attention, and he shoots out of the room, grabbing Thomas and dragging them in the direction of Alby. Chuck follows, probably to take part in some more eavesdropping.

You're definitely not the best influence.

"That was quite the trick, Keeper," you exaggerate the 'Keeper', causing Minho to grin at you as you casually lean against the wall, finally gaining his attention.

"You're one to talk- you could get time in the Slammer for listening in on private affairs."

"You knew I was here?"

"'Course I did- I always know where you are. Can't afford not to." You roll your eyes. Of course, he noticed you were there- he's too perceptive not to.

You take a moment to admire him. Despite getting in a fight and shouting his lungs out, Minho looks as perfect as always. And the things he said and how he acted so in control and determined makes you pull your bottom lip between your teeth.

"What?" His voice becomes considerably lower. "You know you can't look at me like-"

In an instant, you stand up straight, grabbing his shirt with some force and yanking him towards you. He makes no effort to protest as you press your lips against his.

It's just a peck, but you're now very aware that this breaks the set of boundaries you'd both set.

"Shit," you whisper, "fuck, I forgot."

He lets out a low chuckle that almost has you squeezing your legs together. "You know, when I was out in the Maze, all I could think about was you."

Your heart skips a beat, "Yeah?"

"Yeah, I just- I have everything I want right in front of me, and I didn't wanna shuck it up. But it took me nearly dying to realise I don't care anymore. This is dumb. I want you- and I can have you. Why wait?"

Your foreheads touch as his words bring tou closer together, noses touching, his eyes fixed on your lips.

"Why are you still waiting then?" That's all the confirmation he needs to ignite the kiss again. He pushes against you, your hands diving into his hair and humming into his mouth as you hit the wall behind you.

He effortlessly holds you in place, pushing his knee between your legs, hands holding your waist. Your lips dance against each other, tongues brushing just in the slightest, showing one another your wants but without taking things too far in such an open place.

"(Y/N)?" He breaks the kiss, panting more than he does after working all day.

"Yeah?"

"Do you, uh, do you wanna be my girlfriend?"

You scoff, taking him by surprise before pecking his lips once again.

"Yes, shucking obviously- I thought you'd never ask."

Wooo, finally finished this piece. It took me a hot minute but here it is. Sorry for any errors or anything, I've not reread it because it is very late but I just had to get this out.

Hope you guys enjoy :)

[thecameronchronicles]

Thighs

TW: Smut. Language. 

SUMMARY: Without condoms or patience, JJ finds another way to relieve himself. 

WORD COUNT: 700

REQUESTED

Anonymous asked:

JJ fucking reader’s thighs because she’s not on birth control and they ran out of condoms?

Thighs

“Fuck….” He groaned when reaching into the bedside table, your expression soured when watching him pull the empty box of condoms from the broken drawer, “Please baby, I can try to pull out or-”

“I’m not on the pill, JJ…” You reminded him as he clenched his teeth. 

“I’m so fucking hard for you…So goddamn sexy and now I’m throbbing because I can’t take care of it…” You bit your bottom lip as you felt him suddenly motion you to your side. 

“J-”

“Do you trust me?” You nodded as he left your hips naked to his touch, panties and shorts kicked to the very edge of the bed as you felt his rigid cock slip between your thighs, but not to penetrate or even to tease, to use the tension of that soft skin around him. 

“JJ-”

“Don’t worry baby…you’ll come too. I’ll make sure of it, sweetheart…I want to feel you drip on me…”

“Ahh…” You groaned to the feeling of his hand to your clit. 

“Oh my God…” He groaned. “So warm…” You reached for his cock, wanting to assist in a release, but he would weave your fingers to crane behind you and wrap at his neck before his touch came back to your sensitive bundle of nerves. 

“I only want to feel those perfect little thighs squeeze me baby…and I want to hear how much you fucking love it.” He spoke, that hand formerly at rest beneath your head now in a gentle but dominant wrap at your hair, pulling you back far enough so he could feast on your neck in a series of tongue kisses hot at your skin. 

“You’re already shaking-”

“JJ please…just put it in…I’ll get a morning after pill tomorrow-”

“Not a chance…this is too fucking good.” He groaned, moving behind you in growing acceleration. “Oh shit…You’re gonna make me come like this…” He pulled your hair tighter. “But you know the deal…we come together, you come first, or I don’t come at all.”

“Please, JJ…”

“God, you’re dripping on it, baby, I fucking love it.” His hand moved to your neck, angling your head down. “Look at how good it is…look what you’re doing to me…stop fucking with me and come baby…I want to feel that over me…”

“JJ!”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Fingers…please! I need more!”

“More? Two? Or three?”

“OH SHIT!” You groaned as he began to pump into you, one at a time, denying himself the feeling of your thighs around him in order to offer you this pleasure, as you were quick to stroke him. 

“Baby-”

“I need to make you come, JJ…I need to hear you…”

“No. I want you to feel me…Watch me…watch me come undone because of you…watch me fucking come because of these thighs. ONLY these thighs.” He pulled your fingers to his mouth, sucking on them, before driving his cock back at that pace between your thighs. 

“How the fuck does that feel so good?” He growled into your shoulder, sucking on skin as he was purposeful to leave behind bruising as a trophy for how you tasted for him. 

“FUCK! I can feel it!” You explained. 

“Yeah?”

“YES!”

“Then come on my cock, baby…right on it…right there…come on baby…” He endorsed, quickening as your body responded to him in grand approval. 

“I love how you’re shaking for me…but I need you to come.”

“I am! I’m fucking coming, JJ! Ah! Ahh! AHHH!” You gasped, moaning silenced by the rush too bold and intense to ignore as that sudden drip of warmth over his couch provided the proper lubrication. His feet tangled in yours to keep you pinned in place and your thighs tight as the overstimulation of his cock rubbing between you made you react with nearly violent jerks. 

“JJ!”

“I’m close baby…fuck…you’re gonna make me come-” He smacked your ass. “Those fucking thighs are making me come…” You assisted this by pressing your thighs even tighter, your name cursed beneath clenched teeth before watching his cock flex as his moans chorused behind you as validation for a release you witnessed. 

“Oh Shit! Oh Fuck! YES!” He breathed heavily behind you, those fingers recently embedded in your skin now gripping the sheets before you as he withdrew all angst and fell to a rest at your back. 

Taglist: @hopebaker @iovdrew @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4starkey @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @obxxrxfes @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @rafesbae @camilynn @sweetestdesire @pankhoeforlife @pankowperfection

[kaleidoscopewritings19]

Jason Todd x Reader

Title: Wishing for Mistletoe Kisses

Warnings: None

Requested by anonymous

-Christmas Special-

Your dress, I had to choose a Blake Lively dress cause she always has pretty dresses.

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

It was time for the Wayne’s Toys for Tots Fundraiser, but Christmas was still a week away. Jason was helping- was forced- to help decorate and Alfred was pretty much “head of the decorating committee” since Bruce was hosting the fundraiser. Alfred was a perfectionist, and was sort of like a Hitler when it came to decorating.

Damian was lying on the floor, “That’s not straight, Jason! It’s tilting! Hello! You know what-- just let me do it.” he said while standing up, and Jason smiled. That was an easy way for him to get out of decorating.

Jason let go of the banner and Damian went to work. Dick was putting out poinsettias and Tim was laying out the auction items, “Hey, Jason, can you give me a hand?” Dick asked with his hands full of the red plants.

“Where is Y/N? She was supposed to help me with these.” Dick said as he passed a plant over to Jason. 

“She’s upstairs getting dressed for the fundraiser. She said she has to look her best, since she will be announcing what we raised tonight.” Jason said as he sat the plant down on a table. “I told her she always looks good. Even in sweatpants and a sweatshirt, she looks gorgeous.” 

Dick stared at Jason, “You love her, don’t you?” the ex-robin asked him.

Jason smiled, “Yeah, I do.” 

“Then why haven’t you made a move? I have never known you to not go after something you want.” 

Jason looked over to make sure you weren’t coming down the stairs. “Because I don’t want to screw up our friendship now.” he said as he rubbed his face. “Plus, I’m nervous to make a move. What if she doesn’t like me in that way? Then if I make a move, it will ruin everything we do have.” Jason rambled, and Dick placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder.

“I have an idea.” Dick said as he walked over to a box and pulled out a bunch of mistletoe. “I’m in charge of hanging these up, and these are the answer to your problem.” he said while dangling the plant in front of Jason.

Jason smiled, “Yeah, but if we only have one plant, you know how long it would take to get her under it?” 

“We hang up multiple plants, Jason. Then bam! You kiss her and see if she feels the same way. And if she doesn’t, well, you go back to being friends, and she will think it was just a holiday tradition.” 

They started hanging the plants, and while hanging the last plant, they heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Jason watched you walk down the stairs, and he could faintly hear Dick, “Hey! The ladder! It’s tipping!” 

You were wearing a thigh-length, wine red dress, with matching heels. Jason was in a trance, and he was enamored by you. “Do you think it’s too short? I hope not, because I went through fifteen dresses, and this one was the best.” you said, and a thud behind Jason made him turn. 

Dick was sprawled out on the floor and groan escaped his lips, “Thanks.... a lot.... Jason.” he muttered, and you ran over to Dick. “Oh my gosh, are you okay?” you asked as you helped Dick to his feet. 

Jason was lost in thought; all he could think of was your dress on his bedroom- “Jay, are the two of you alright?” you questioned your friends. Dick looked you up and down, and then over at Jason, “Never mind, I am no longer mad about you letting me fall off that ladder.” Dick said as he held his side and limped away.

With a smile you turned to Jason, “What was that about?” Your bright smile could bring him to his knees, “Oh, um, I don’t know. But you--you look amazing.” he said nervously. Jason mentally smacked himself, usually he was way smoother with his words.

“Thank you, Jaybird.” you say as you looked at your cellphone. “You better go get ready; the party starts in twenty minutes.” You say as you walked towards the kitchen to find Alfred.

-Time Skip brought to you by Clark Griswold’s Family Christmas-

The mini orchestra was playing Christmas music, and everyone was dancing. Jason even got a few dances in with you, and all he could think about was figuring out how to get you under one of the stupid hanging plant, that would determine the rest of his life.

He watched you walk up to the front of the room with a microphone in hand, “I am proud to say that we have raised well over $25,000 and we have received over 2,600 gifts for the Wayne’s Toys for Tots.” Clapping erupted around Jason, and he couldn’t help but to smile at you. 

“Thank you, and please, enjoy the rest of the night, and Merry Christmas.” You sat the microphone on the grand piano, so that you could find Jason. Dick looked over at Jason and pointed up at the mistletoe, “Care to dance?” Jason asked, and you smiled.

“Sure.” You replied.

He whisked you away from the big crowd of people and took you towards the hallway near the staircase. The mistletoe was only a few feet away. “Why are we dancing all the way over here?” you asked as you placed your hands on Jason’s shoulders.

Shrugging his shoulders, he grinned, “It’s cooler over here?”  Jason waltzed you closer to the mistletoe, almost there, he thought.

You cracked another smile, “Okay, well I am going to go get another drink. Want one?” you asked as you pulled away from him. “Yeah, sure, thanks.” he said, and when you walked away, he groaned.

“Oh, so close. Good thing there’s another mistletoe by the champagne bar.” Dick said, as he walked away with a blonde on his arm.

Jason quickly walked after you, and there you were, talking to a bunch of people. When you see him, you motioned him over, “This is Gladys Newton. She is chairwoman of Y/L/N Industries.” you introduced him to an older woman with dark hair.

Jason shook her hand and listened to her ramble on and on, and all he could think about was how you were just a few feet away from the mistletoe. “Hey Y/N-” 

But before he could ask you to follow him, your father called you over. “Y/N, I want you to meet someone.” Now you were too far away from the mistletoe, and three other couples were taking pictures under the last remaining mistletoe. 

Jason sighed and took a glass of bourbon to the balcony that overlooked the garden. He watched at snowflakes began to fall from the sky, and all he could think about was his failed attempt to kiss you. All he wanted to do was to tell you how he truly felt. But it seemed another year would pass before he could gain the courage to tell you he loved you. 

He took a sip and sat the glass down on the edge of the railing, “Hey, are you alright?” your voice sounded like silk to him. Jason turned around and when he looked up, he saw the mistletoe, and you were standing underneath it. 

You looked up and then your mouth fell agape but was instantly followed with a smile. “Looks like we have to kiss.” you say, and Jason stared at your red lips. “But we don’t have to if you don’t want to...” you whisper, and he looked into your eyes.

“Are you sure?” Jason asked and you smiled, as he inched closer to you.

“It’s tradition, Jaybird. We are under a mistletoe, and we have to uphold the tradition.” you say as you rested your hands on his chest.

Jason took a deep breath and looked down at the ground. “I don’t want it to be because of a tradition...” he whispered, and you placed a hand on his cheek. “Y/N, I have been in love with you for a very long time. I have tried all night to get you under the mistletoe, but I want our first kiss to mean something. I want you to feel the same way I do..” he said, and you brought his face down to yours.

“Then it’s a good thing I do feel the same way as you do.” Your lips gently pressed against his, and Jason’s heart fluttered. Your lips against his was something he always imagined, but it was way better than he had dreamed and pictured it.

When you pulled away, he had a big smile on his face. “Why didn’t you kiss me sooner?” you asked, and he laughed, “I was nervous.” he replied.

“Jason Todd, nervous? I have never known you to be nervous.” you said with a smile, and he grinned back at you. “Good thing I am not nervous anymore.” he said before he pressed another kiss to your lips.

Looks like he didn’t have to wait another year for you to be his. He hoped you would be his for the rest of your lives. 

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

Merry Christmas Eve Eve! I hope you enjoyed this anonymous! <3

[writefightandflightclub]

Hi, I didn't get to meet Oscar, but I was thinking about your experience, and I... Um.. Wrote a poem/song sort of? It's called Plexiglass... I just wanted to share it with you. I don't know if you'll like it or not so I'm staying anonymous. Love you! ❤

Like the shimmering sunlight

On the first dew drops of morning –

You're looking at me.

Coffee-brown eyes so bright –

Floating, flaming leaves adorning

The sweet fall breeze!

My world's turning,

Heart burning,

Yet all's just smoke and mirrors between us.

You're standing right there,

And it's not fair

That I'll never get to cross the plexiglass...

The damned plexiglass!

You're laughing with your friends, as you sprinkle pearls,

Shining, sparkling

Out of your oecan-blue mind.

The waves are calling at me – soft marble curls.

I'm diving, drowning,

Trying to finish your lines.

I end up thinking

How it would be

If all those minutes and miles turned to dust!

But now here I stay,

Watching you walk away

From the other side of the transparent plexiglass...

There'll always be the plexiglass.

I LOVE IT! 😍😍😍

Thank you so much for creating and sharing this!! It has such a lovely flow and you weave in imagery so seamlessly.

Okay, let me write about my favourite parts!

That it’s called Plexiglass 👌👌👌👌 (That mf-in plexiglass 🤣)

Yes yes yes, the sunlight and morning imagery? I did keep thinking of sunshine through it as in person he’s so warm. The way these lines place me as a dew drop being simmered away by a sun far too bright for me? ACCURATE. That all just works perfectly! And all of that warmth carried through in the coffee brown and autumn colours (even preserving the timings and seasons of the experience?)? Love!

“The damned plexiglass” IKR????!!!!!! 👀

And then all this cool imagery, contrasting with the warmth of before - the pearls? Love! The “ocean-blue mind” (such a wonderful phrase which signals the expanse and wonder of his big, creative brain spewing out such treasures)? And then the way the curl of the waves serve as a descriptor for the mind but link to his literal curls? And it’s perfect because he did, ofc, have these beautiful cool-toned, silvered curls, which were so striking in person. And also this works bc I spent a lot of the day imagining all the Qs I’d ask - if I ever could - about his process and characters (and what goes on in that ocean-blue mind!). And also I crossed a literal ocean to be there!

“Trying to finish your lines”!!!! Perfect, bc yes! As a Professional* Imaginer of Fictional Conversations (a writer you might say) it was impossible not to try and “script” multiple versions of the interaction in advance**, even knowing when it came to it that I had close to zero sway over the narrative and the moment. And he’s an actor! And he has lines! And we were in line!

“If all those minutes and miles turned to dust”. Me, after the fact, hanging on to the experience! Relatable af 🥹

The barrier of the glass 😭

This is beautiful and it really does give me a reflection of my experience and such a wonderful way to preserve a moment! 🧡 I will have to print this and save it in a memory box or sthg (if that’s okay with you?)

Thank you so much for this! 🥹🙏🧡🙌✨

I really really do hope you get your own Oscar experience one day soon too, lovely! 🧡 I’m rooting for you!

[blortch]

Thanks for responding to my dream. Tbh I don’t know where it came from because I’m in the ‘their life is boring and all the speculation is for naught’ camp. I’m sure they’re all straight and have partners we don’t know anything about. So this dream was a shock, and I agree I would NEVER send that to them. They don’t want to hear it and I always hate when people send their fics to the actual person. If they want to find the depraved sexy stuff people say/write about them, they should have to find it themselves lol thanks!

No problem, the ask was unexpected but I like kickstarting discussions about whatever so sure, send in your weird asks anons!

H m. The line "I'm sure they are straight and have partners" no see the point is that you don't know that either and that it's Fine that you don't know lolol.

And about the sending directly to them well, I'll go into some adjacent rant here: tumblr is accessible to them in theory. I don't know why but a lot of this site seems to have the sentiment that all us bloggers are somehow in a closed off space, some kinda big group chat but we're really...not? I know that a lot of people don't know this site, or don't feel the need to look in here, but the access Is Public. I don't mean to say this in a fearmongery manner like ooooo Jay could be reading your posts ooooo but more in a. Hey. I thought we all knew this lol.

I also don't mean it in a "post like your mom reads your posts" way either because if I had to be sanitized in one other space in my life I think I might shrivel up and die. The anonymity is >>; thankfully there.

Here's another rant: I think a lot of the time when someone feels like getting up on a soap box in defense of the "poor creators" that have to deal with weird comments, people (rightfully) think that it's because they're white knighting them in an attempt to get on their good side, eventually get to meet them, work with them etc. (LIKE COUGH STRUCCIMOVIES COUGH) but I can tell you right fucking now, if the impossible scenario happens and I get a mail from Red Letter of the Media asking me to work with them I'm not dropping a single thing. I'm not gonna go get my things and getting in a plane. I'm staying right where I am and I'd tell them to fuck off!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[m1ckeyb3rry]

FR!! I love the whole universe that’s been established through all the characters and dynamics like >>>> and it’s also not just ships palooza which is honestly refreshing

No because sometimes I find some Naoya memes funny where people are shitting on him and even his character is sometimes SO ridiculously misogynistic it’s funny like how do you even exist?? I love naoya slander jokes fr though (I forgot but it’s literally so ironic apparently the way Naoya speaks is a bit lost in translation and he kinda talks like a little girl according to some jp users who’ve pointed it out?? Like BRO) but yeah the only thing he has going for him is his face card maybe (also I originally thought his hair was gonna be green but)

Oh I was not aware oh that foreshadowing!!! Haha!! Self sacrifice!! Lol!! It’s ok y/n’s alive now though so!! But yeah anyways I’m also like…in the scope of jjk0 there’s quite literally only (including y/n) 5 characters/classmates that fit into like the friend group positions? And excuse the collateral slander one of which is a bear, the other quite literally cannot talk, one who acts like a bully, one who was BULLIED like adding ocs helps broaden the dynamic possibilities a lot more?? Like there’s ofc no problem NOT adding ocs but I don’t see how you can blame someone for wanting to add them because that’s literally the tiniest class of students I’ve ever seen?? Let’s give our protag some more friends…also if you don’t like it just close the tab and go for a different fic?? I seriously don’t understand the need to vocalize complaints like this when they won’t benefit the anyone in any way like also wait THAT WAS THE COMMENT?? Wow really came full circle with BLLK Karasu and PI but BRUH yeah maybe it’s just a wattpad thing….although this is kinda unrelated I’ve also seen some really rude anons here too? Like I’ll just scroll through a tag or a blog and I see like, someone asks anonymously and goes “you’re so fucking annoying and your work is shit” BRO WHO IS COMPELLING YOU TO SAY THIS??? The fact that they take the time of day to go find their ask box and submit something like what does this achieve?? The audacity of some people it was nice to see other blogs like quote reposting and calling anon out for doing such heinous shit but what even….

I’m laughing like theoretically when I put the puzzle pieces together…yes bf material..? But also my brain says um. LMAOAOA it’s so funny I mean I don’t doubt that he would be a good bf but I can’t wrap my head around bf material and todo being in the same sentence HAHAHA

The shitty familial clans always get me the fact that they kept refusing to heal sorcerers associated with y/n?? And then tullia was truly the final straw…but so real I know they aren’t l/ns but I mean dad’s side of the family smh the hiiragis too in hollyhock <<<<<<

“Quick and easy” LMAOOO sorry it makes me laugh sm because in the span that we’ve been talking there’s already been multiple incidents of “this turned out way longer than it was supposed to” HAHAHA yk…if you just make an approximation and multiply it by 2.5 i think you’ll be good LMAO bro really said lemme churn out the Walmart version for otoya so I can get cracking on masterclass version for Karasu (I say Walmart version lightly because I know it’ll still be top tier LOL) but honestly so real gotta do the best for our man karasu

Ok by association (?? Ik there’s a better word than this but I can’t think of it LMAO) if otoyas is at 10k rn does that mean Karasu’s is gonna but the 20’s /j

Imagine it was angsty and karasu drowns (im joking no one dies in soccer!!!!!!!!!) but OMFG. I AM. SO. READY!!! LETS GOOO I LIVE FOR MEDIOCRITY COMPLEX KARASU ANGST!!! EVERYBODY CHEERED WAHOO ok but im fr so hyped for the lineup of BLLK fics you have in the works it’s been awhile since I’ve seen sm quality content being posted its such a change from the disappointingly inactive tags LMAO

This would be the crossover of the century y/n and her mom going to watch the BLLK u20 match causing and even BIGGER commotion with the press too like imagine all the cameramen who are there for the match swerving to look at the models LMAOOO I can imagine Yuki being really close to her and looking up to her almost like a mentor or cool aunt(kinda giving Gojo’s role to the jjk students except, well mrs l/n does not act like a teenager LMAOO) I bet Yukimiya would have to reign everyone in like a THATS MY BESTIE/BASICALLY MY SECOND MOM???? It’d be funny to see yuki kinda lose him temper like “no you stay TF away from them I will not allow you to taint them with your weirdness”

I’m ngl I was fr just a reader/lurker until recently, I actually used to just use the web version without an account because I was too lazy to set one up and have another thing potentially entering my email inbox until the site started forcing you to get the app which requires an account so I was like ok well gotta do what you gotta do….and then I proceeded to do exactly what I did before (literally just lurking and silently enjoying LOL) and not try to explore any of the app features and uh. Well here I am!! I’m sure I’ll figure it out someday when something prompts me to do so LMAO the platform in general is so interesting though especially compared to most other social media platforms out there!! I don’t feel like conquering that learning curve today oops

-Karasu anon

there def are some side ships (togetullia, mrs l/n and toji, elakshi and noritoshi) but for the most part yes there’s not a ton of romance going on!! plus of those three relationships only one even works out so 😓 truly the strength of pi imo is the platonic relationships it has (tullia and y/n will always be famous to me like it’s not at all romantic but the way they loved one another is so integral to the story it makes me emotional 🥹)

NAOYA IS JUST CRAZY TO ME LMAOAOA like he truly feels like a govt experiment…he kinda looks like raichi from bllk (or raichi looks like him idrk which one came first) but raichi is so enraged 24/7 that no one acknowledges his face card 😭💔

NO THAT’S WHAT I’M SAYING like sorry i want to have more than female character in my stories…sorry not every single character is in love w y/n…LMAO also yeah idk why people haven’t grasped the concept of just clicking another story HAHAHA like?? if you don’t like it then read something else!! why would i change how i like to write because some random on the internet is annoyed, esp considering how many people love my stories?? the entitlement is weird to me but i try not to complain abt it a lot because ik that in terms of hate i’m very lucky in that i’ve never gotten anything too bad…i have seen those types of anons it’s insane!! personally somehow i’ve avoided getting any myself HAHA idek what i’d do if i did 😩 i try to stay relatively unproblematic and in my lane on here so i haven’t ever gotten involved in tumblr drama like a lot of other accts have but i live in fear of the day that someone comes in my inbox and is a jerk 😰

when you think about it objectively todo is a good bf but when you see him you’re like “well…” HAHA i think having him as a weird rival bestie is the best in between because you get the benefits of him hanging out w you without it being romantic

THE DAD’S SIDE OF THE FAMILY IS ALWAYS THE ENEMY KFKFJDJD the hiiragis are so l/n coded too LMAO

please i need to just stop having expectations atp because i KNOW it’s going to be crazier than what i think…LMAO the otoya one is silly and unserious and more along the lines of the last part of fwtkac but i’m planning on having something a bit closer to the instrument for the karasu version where it’s more serious (we’ll see though because something abt tabieita brings out the crack fic writer in me so there’s a chance it’ll end up silly as well) HAHA as much as i love otoya i fear karasu deserves the best so my time love and energy will be going into his version

atm i’m hoping for something in like the 6-9k range for the karasu version?? so make of that what you will…the otoya version (which i should be posting in the next hour or so i hope) is almost 13k words so obviously i’m way off in my guesses as it’s over 3-4 times longer than i initially thought 😭 if the karasu version ends up being 20k words i might cry HKDJDJSK i think i’ll have written more for him than even nagi w peregrine at that point 😩

omg ykw just because you said that i’m going to make him drown LMAOAOAAO not permanently though but like 😏 mediocrity complex karasu my beloved…i’m so excited to get working on that HAHA i need to get the otoya version over with so i can focus on my main man 😢 HAHA i’m doing my best to contribute to the fandom i think i’ve written over 100k words of bllk fics since may so yk i’m putting in the work

LITERALLY omg y/n and her mother are the WAGs of all time 😭 everyone in the crowds in shock because it’s the most random soccer match ever and for some reason famous former model mrs l/n is there?? and her daughter is equally as pretty?? i feel like having endured the modeling industry mrs l/n would def take yuki under her wing and try to help him through it (maybe he was signed to the her old agency or smth) and she absolutely would NOT let y/n anywhere near that whole scene even though agents keep trying to scout her 😩 omg yuki would be sooo pressed it’s like that one tik tok sound that’s like “how old is your dad—” “TOO old for you!! and he’s married!! stay away from my dad guys he’s married!!” HAHAHA and if yuki and y/n are just friends and not dating at that point i bet otoya and aiku would try to rizz her up and she’d be so uninterested 😰 honestly besides yuki i could maybe see her going for hiori LMAOAOA so like imagine karasu’s face if he tries to flirt with her and she’s like “cool 👍 abt your friend though…😏🤩🥰” (the friend in question has zero clue what’s going on and is completely confused when she tries to talk to him)

it def is a learning curve but once you get it it feels intuitive ig?? until they throw another curveball at you 😰 even now i’m still discovering features that i didn’t realize existed 😳 i was def a silent reader/lurker for a while too!! i feel like i still am a lot of the time haha it doesn’t help that i rarely read other people’s fics because i’m usually working on my own 😓 if you ever need help w anything on here lmk though i will do my best to give advice 💪🏻

[heroes-anthesis]

Good morning, sweet succubus (Venus)

The family tribute room was in our basement, but we were never allowed to go in. “That’s the She-Devil’s room. Mama and I are the only people allowed in.” Father would say. This had always confused me, because sister Vesta had told me that it was where sister Venus slept. When I asked Father about it, he said: “She is not human. Never ask me again.” So I didn’t.

Once a month, Father would tell me to write on a sheet of paper everything that had gone wrong the month before. Every bad grade, every weird tasting food, even if I left the house with my shoes untied one day. When I was ten, I figured out that the longer my list, the longer Venus would scream and cry that night. But if I listed nothing, or not enough, it was worse. So I started putting 10 things on the list, everytime.

Our little piece of land in Oregon was hardly touched during the Crisis. Yet, at least once a week, I would hear Mama talk about how the “She-Devil” was causing strife and distress in our country. This was about the only time we would hear her talk about anything political related. Even our history lessons would avoid talking about anything but our beliefs.

It was close to midnight during Venus’s Coming of Age, and we were walking through the woods after Ritual. Despite our isolation, we heard the telltale sign of footsteps.I feared a wendigo, Janus a werewolf. Our parents, the truth: a witch. She dashed towards Venus, who was bound by chains across her whole body, shuffled along like a slave. Father tried to stop her, but it was as if she didn’t exist, moving through him like the wind moves through silence. What the witch told Venus that night, we will never know, for she left as quickly as she came, and Venus refused to tell. But she did change. My quiet, soft spoken sister would suddenly lash out at me, calling me many of the “banned words” without any of her trademarked stutter. Her monthly beatings suddenly became weekly altercations, and then daily skirmishes. Papa stopped making statues for our shrine after Venus cracked Vesta’s skull with one.

Today was my 16th birthday. Where many children would receive money, video games, maybe a car, I received a box at eight in the morning. Inside were three things: A pair of white robes, a weird leather mask, and a note. *Come to the basement tonight at ten. Wear what you have been given. Do not be late or early.* The mask, as I would later discover, was human leather.

I waited outside the entrance until 9:59. As the clock struck, I quickly resolved the nerve to open the door. The staircase down was lined with fine gray stone, and lit with beautiful candles. I descended the stairs quietly, but quickly. Unlike the rest of our house, the flight of steps refused to creak, as if they were created and maintained with extreme duty. Or better yet, the flight was so short and unused that it never saw heavy usage.

The basement used the same fine stone as the staircase, except that various runes lined the room in carefully measured intervals. I was able to recognize many from my lessons, *Protection*, *Wealth*, *Love*. But there was one that littered the room, from head to toe: *Demon*, etched so deep that you could see outside through the cracks. What confused me the most, however, was that there was no bedroom furniture. The only exception was a small rectangle carved into the ground, with the word *BED* etched in the center. Venus’s clothes laid in a neat pile at the foot of the crude sleeping spot.

Father wore a robe mask like mine, with Antlers sprouting from his. Mama wore a hood and plague mask, cloaked in all black. Vesta wore red, wearing one of those anonymous masks that movie hackers have. Venus… wore nothing but chains. They hung from her limbs, dangling her from the ceiling like a wind chime. Her face looked sullen, almost neutral. It morphed into fear as she noticed my presence. I could not meet her gaze, so I followed the scars down her left side, starting at her cheek, and ending at her heel.

“Mama,” Venus asked. “...Why is Veritas here? I thought you said that-”

“Quiet demon. Veritas.” My mother said to me, “Come over here.” I hesitated. **”NOW!”** I was at her side the next moment, scared at the first time I had ever been yelled at. I looked to Vesta for guidance, but she refused to hold my gaze, instead staring at the runes on the ceiling.

“Veritas, let me introduce you to Angra Maihu.” Father gestured to Venus. “We humans are plagued by evil at every turn. Demons infest our lives, using sin and disaster to lead our lives into death and damnation. The devil before you is the twisted mother of every imp, monster, and devil that exists. Each month, we purge our sins on her, to keep ourselves pure. You are of age today, so now it is your responsibility to join in her punishment.”

The look on Venus’s face changed, from fear and shock to anger. We all knew what it meant- her “other side”, the one that the witch had created, had taken over. __***”No! You promised! You no good, cowardly, pieces of-”***__ her speech was cut short as Father struck her in the chest. Blood came out of her mouth, but she was silent.

“You may beat, cut, maim her. But do not kill her, for it will release the evil to all the world. And do not defile her, lest you become a host to evil as well.” Mama held the knife to me, which I grabbed after a brief hesitation.

I hesitated. Earlier that day, Venus had helped me find my shoes. The day before, we had made dinner together. And last week, I played board games with her for hours. But… I had seen her almost kill Vesta. The days when she was beaten the hardest led to clear skies and a large harvest the next day. She had called me banned words when she changed, and her apologies never felt… real. I looked at her.

“Your sister Vesta has developed special gifts, granted to her by the Earth Mother. Save death, she can cure any ailment you wish to inflict. Do as you may.” Unlike everyone else in our family, Venus’s eyes were red. They shone like diamonds, and as a child I was always infatuated with them. Tonight, they filled me with rage.

“So, I can slash her eyes?” Father smiled. Mama nodded. Vesta looked away. Venus gasped.

“V-Veritas… why?” Tears fell down my sister’s face. I approached her. “Whatever I did today, I’m sorry! Just please don’t…” Venus broke down into sobs. The sound annoyed me like a whining dog annoys its owner. I grabbed her neck with my free hand, her cries ceasing as the demon struggled for breath. Blade in my raised hand, I prepared to strike, when suddenly, I stopped.

My head spun. The stiff air changed, becoming a violent haze as the dagger clattered onto the stone. Father’s voice sounded concerned, but his words were drowned out by the sound of something *breaking*. Through my foggy sight, I saw Venus hit the ground, before suddenly rushing into me. I flew through the air, and I lost my breath as I hit the wall.

There was a scream. The shape of Venus flew at the shape of father, and I watched as his horned visage flinched, staggered, and then fell. Venus followed him as he fell, her hand flying up and down at his face. As my vision returned, I saw why: she had picked up the dagger that I had dropped.

Mother was next. She and Vesta had opted to flee, but only made it halfway up the steps. Venus looked at them, and Mama suddenly fell backwards. Vesta, who was behind Mama, matched her path. The only difference was that Vesta didn’t hit her head. Mama’s skull crunched on the stone, and she did not move. My sister screamed, but for some reason, she was unable to shift the corpse on top of her.

I looked back at Venus, who seemed satisfied with her work to Father’s mutilated face as she rose. She took her time walking over to the screaming Vesta, and kneeled gently at her side. If mother was the luckiest, dying instantly from head trauma, Vesta was second. Venus slit her throat, and she was unconscious in seconds.

__***”…Why do you hate me, Veritas?”***__ Venus asked. I was too scared to move, or answer. __***”It’s okay, even if you don’t love me, I love you. Which is why, I won’t kill you, but…”***__ The flash of the knife filled my vision, as my eye was sliced from its socket. I screamed in pain, but when I lifted my hands to clutch the wound, Venus pinned them down. __***”No! You don’t get the luxury of coping with your pain. You will suffer like I did, to understand.”***__

Venus let me go when I stopped struggling. As I lay there, sobbing, she dressed herself and left. I wish I could say that her last words were impactful, but no, she destroyed my eye and left. I managed to crawl out of that dreaded basement, where I called the police. They took the bodies away, and declared Venus a villain to be caught by parahumans. Once they left, I used Father’s tools to seal the basement shut.

It’s been about three years since then. I still own the house, and I work a steady construction job. It’s very lonely, so I visit Father, Mama, and Vesta’s graves every day. Each time, I wonder, if I had refused Father and Mama that night, would they still be alive? Would I still have my family in my life, my mother, father, and two sisters? Would Venus still live in that basement, chained up and beaten every night for a crime she didn’t commit? The thought bothers me, so I put it all out of my mind.

But, she’s on my mind today. It’s my birthday, and the three year anniversary. I was watching the news, and the reporter was talking about the “Succubus of New York”, who had been cornered by a warden but managed to escape. When they showed her picture, I cried. My older sister Venus, with that wicked smile, was on the screen. I had to by a new television that night, because *something* destroyed mine in that instant. It wasn’t me though, I promise. I refuse to be like Venus.

[golden-----hour]

62

1/12/24

I know a whole lot about a whole little. He was enthralled by me. I douched my ass with white wine. It bit from the inside. His finger slipped up into me, tussled with my shit. I used a credit card to split the ketamine. I inhaled in one go. Then my head was out in space a bit. All over his wall was gay art. Men and dicks took up space. We are all overly concerned about space. I am a fucking pig. I squealed with his tongue in my asshole. He couldn't find his poetry from America. He met an important poet and felt important. When my time is up, I won't have done anything important. Trust me when I say it is all for nothing, in an okay way, that doesn't engulf me. He brought out four different poppers bottles. I tried each one like a wine tasting. I inhaled so deep I couldn't feel it anymore. When he was in me I couldn't fall off the cliff of pleasure. He glanced over my body from under my pelvis, his eyes peaking out as it from the side of a bed. Our bodies were entangled. I did remember I was going to die and the words bore me. He made a Moscow mule and I was stable. I felt real for four minutes. It didn't feel good or bad. I stood naked in the mirror and thanked God for my thinness. I am not a twink. He wanted to assign me a group. He determined twunk was more appropriate. Everything felt like a joke. Everything was impossibly important. He talked about the glamor of prestige and feeling important and successful and I was bored. When he came in my bare ass his face was wretched and writhing. Pain and pleasure are homoerotic friends. He wore a suit for me to create the fantasy of power. I was upside down speaking right ways up. He fucked me with his eyes. The next step after this is literally being eaten. I wonder if he could kill me with his tongue. I thought about the Swiss suicide boxes and imagined lying yourself down into a darkness from which you do not emerge. Gay men bow to pleasure. It is a sure path. Things that are all or nothing feel good. To be entitled to pleasure. Risking sanity or safety because it feels good. He said he was smart. We said faggot speaking our gay man language. We want to be smart and thin and unbothered. The most pleasure wins. The most fuck you eyes are the sexiest. He was drawing his hand across me and watching my naked body, my lungs inflating, deflating. He thought I was beautiful. I knew we didn't have long. The words defeat themselves. I admire things that stay that are not supposed to stay. I forgive people who do not deserve it. He liked my confidence. I was talking about the idiocy of bad kissers. It was whatever. He spoke about the diplomatic academy and applying for foreign service jobs, that specific internship. He was aghast he didn't get it. I thought about Ananya and Kamille because he was stuck in the why. My why is the shape of a body and feels like the swell of a chest with my conch shell ear over the ocean of his heart. My hand inside the void. I won't tell which finger I would get rid of first. He was impressed that I am American and a polyglot. Nothing matters enough. After 22, you are 30. I smirked about twink death. My sex is going to get nasty. No one, including myself, is awake. Whatever words are coming speak for themselves mostly. I'm tagging a long behind them like a dog. I am trusting the words and to where they are bringing me. This is a good poetry trail. In the dirt path poem, footprints build a sorrowful sentence. The sentence is the music of weeping. We are supposed to be smart and useful. We are not supposed to be anonymous. If our potential is gone, the want gets smaller, like how the amount of oxygen in the atmosphere directly correlates to spider size. He says do I work at Prada or the Foreign Service Ministry. I said ask yourself what you want and why. It is 5:06pm and horribly dark. Everything was fallow gray and ashen. The light bore dust from cryptic heavens. I said in Spain lives someone I love. He said you know so many words and I said only the ones that matter. My dick was out when I answered. My throat stopped hurting from the ketamine.

I swallowed. I reached the text maximum with the last paragraph which I have never done before. I am following the words and eating their bread trail. What will I make of poetry before it's too late? No one is innocent in their attempt to be none. I lied and told my friends I was still in bed sipping the Moscow Mule and talking about being special. Hello great jaw. I am so surrounded by human beings sometimes it is hard to move. I hold a knife like monkey bars. That is my way of keeping the suffering ignited. Queue leaving the electric stove in my apartment. My austere Landlady leaves me passive aggressive notes when I err in some way. Def Herd war auf, she said. Her eyes are nervous and beating. She never ends a conversation fluidly. I always end up having to walk away to make it cease. The main reason we communicate is for her to tell me how I've fucked up which makes me hate her, but I am guessing if I put more effort in to generally talk with them, it'd be less fraught. At least my suffering, my good suffering, my burning lungs suffering, keep me huffing and puffing on. The day I am orphan, I will do a thing I have never done before. Memory is an exercise in prayer. Aren't you talking to something that you aren't sure is there? Queue being the cleverest bitch in the club. Queen faggot was kissed by enlightenment snorting cocaine off of a strangers dick. I witnessed the silence of truth. The slowness of meaning. All the cameras were on me. The day I transform the agony written here, the day I can read this back. I miss the summer rain and my dogs. I sit in this McDonalds alone, fortunately. I need to go lay down again, and try to clean.

[z-h-i-e]

New Year Fanfic Asks - Part 1/5

My good friend Anonymous, who is responsible for many shenanigans in my inbox, has asked for all of the questions to be answered from the New Year Fanfic Asks. I am splitting the answers into five parts so I don't break Tumblr.

1. Do you have a word-count goal for the upcoming year?

Absolutely not. I try to write a little every day. I usually write at least 100K words per year. 

2. Will you participate in any fandom exchanges or fic challenges, etc? 

I do a lot of pinch hitting. I can put together stories rather quickly, so I’m sure I’ll end up doing some of that. Already finished my MSV entry, so I’m on deck if needed.  Unsure about TRSB this year.  I might like to have a summer off on the writing side; potentially I might still throw a piece of art in there because I have one I started working on during the pandemic I might actually get finished in time this year.  There’s also the ones I help run–so I’ve got at least one thing into Screw Yule, I’m working on the parts of B2MEM that I am responsible for (super fun theme this year), and then later in the year we’ll have Scribbles & Drabbles again. 

3. Do you anticipate writing for a new fandom this year? Which one?

Uncertain. I have nothing planned, but when I was in bed having mindful time this morning before I got up, I was thinking on the fact that I spent about twenty years deeply rooted in one fandom, and now I have spent a little over 20 years rooted in another fandom, and it feels like I’m due for some sort of change.  I feel like I’ve been setting myself up with all of the shuffling things onto AO3 and making lists and whatnot for the inevitability of change.  I don’t think that change is a fandom, though. Right before the pandemic, I had arranged a lot of time and expectations to work on some original fiction I’ve dabbled in since 2006, but when the pandemic happened, I had to just manage life, the universe, and everything with choices related to keeping my sanity in a world where there were a lot of people relying on me to keep them calm.  It was also at the start of the pandemic that we learned our dog had a major heart issue, and that led to medication and regular procedures and I don’t even want to think about the money it took to keep him around another two years (but, honestly, in hindsight, I’d still do it all again, because we were told 18 months max, and he made it just past his 10th birthday). I think I am finally in a place again where I can start to consider planning time for that.  

4. Do you think you’ll stop writing for a fandom this year? Which one?

I don’t think of things as stopping writing for a fandom – I wrote a short ThunderCats scene last year – it’s more like, going on hiatus. 

5. Which WIP is first on your list to complete this year? Will you post a snippet?

This question came through earlier, and I answered with Phoenix.  I’m going to double down on that, but I’ll provide a different snippet under the cut and resume answering questions in another post…This snippet is a Thranduil/Finrod scene, or at least, the teasing beginning of one.

Immediately after Thranduil and Felagund were seated, a plate with steamed salmon, mixed green vegetables, and wild rice was placed before each of them simultaneously.  A second item was set before Felagund, between him and the plate.  It was a long, rectangular wooden box, inlaid with ivory. He looked at it curiously as Thranduil motioned for the wine to be poured.  

“That is a small gift, from me to you,” said Thranduil as the servants stepped off into the shadows.  He lifted his wine bowl.  “You have been hard at work, and with the next few days off, I thought you might enjoy it.  I was going to save it, but then, for what am I waiting?”

Felagund pressed his lips together and traced his fingertips along the edge of the box.

“Of course, it is your choice whether to open it now or wait until after dinner,” said Thranduil.  He picked up the wine bottle and topped off the bowl.  “Either way, I intend to fuck you with it this evening.”

Felagund’s gaze snapped up to focus on Thranduil, who now had a forkful of spinach and was keeping watch on Felagund’s movements.  As he looked back down to the box, Felagund lifted the lid up with both hands.  He let out an audible breath.  “This is...exquisitely crafted.  Is it a rep,uh, rep-replica of–?”

“Yes.”  Thranduil continued to eat calmly.  “When we first arrived, you asked for something I cannot give you at this time.  This, I can give.  I hope you do not find it too crude.”

The lid of the box closed.  Felagund looked down at the ornate box for a few seconds before he placed the napkin from his lap onto the table.  Thranduil watched, and drank from his bowl of wine.  Felagund pushed his chair back and stood up.  

“Of course, if you prefer to wait for the real thing…”  Thranduil paused as Felagund picked up the box and carried it to the other end of the marble table, one hand on the table to keep his balance.  The box was set down next to the wine bowl.  “If it displeases you–”

Felagund grasped Thranduil’s face in both hands and leaned down to kiss him deeply, tongue mimicking the suggestion Thranduil made for later that night.  Then Felagund said, “Now.”

Thranduil arched a brow.  “I thought you were hungry.”

After he leaned down again and kissed Thranduil a second time, Felagund said, “I hunger for something only you can feed me.”

One of Thranduil’s hands came up behind Felagund’s neck.  He kneaded, and Felagund groaned.  “Alright.  Get on your hands and knees over there,” said Thranduil, motioning with his other hand.

Felagund looked over his shoulder.  “Here?”

Thranduil grasped Felagund’s chin to turn his head back.  “You did say ‘now’.”

[godofglitter]

This one is about art, and anonymity.

Yesterday as I was walking through a cutesy fair near the Ferry Building in SF, i stumbled upon this old man with a bunch of disheveled looking tables with mismatched and half falling off tablecloths, littered with circuit boards covered in curious imagery- astronauts and human hearts and moons. It was a cool idea, and of course as an engineer when I saw circuit boards I was immediately pulled in. Upon asking the man claimed his boards came from NASA, and that he was commissioning a 26 foot art piece for the new OpenAI office- and me, not knowing who this man was, immediately filed all this information in the "bullshit" box in my head. It wasn't conscious, yet part of growing up is developing an inherent skepticism for the world, hardened layer by layer after each interaction with street painters claiming to be picasso, like those people in vegas that dress like celebrities and make you believe for a second you've breathed the same air as a star.

He was so kind, this artist, despite my ignorance. I did not know enough about vintage boards to appreciate his IBM '92, or about waste copper to marvel at his planet prints, or about art and the price of creativity. His art was piled all together, expensive pieces mingling with the slightly less expensive ones, and me being too broke for cool things I tried to tell him I couldn't partake in his repurposing of destructive technology. Yet he was patient, and understanding, and after a short search and more bonding moments over his father's profession (mechanical engineering, like me) i parted with a beautiful piece depicting planets and sun signs on a layout of balboa PCBs that i paid what is an extravagant amount for me but was apparently absurdly low for him.

When i got home I almost didn't want to look him up*. I wanted to cling to the naïveté of believing his stories, his ambitions. I wanted to walk over to that side of town weeks later and see a giant wall covered in discarded electronics saying a big fuck you, from: art, to one of the world's largest AI companies and smile and think of that windy day in san fransisco. I didn't want him to be a dupe, because if he was it would mean that my moment of pure heartedness was truly misplaced, and it would strengthen my skepticism all the more.

But then again, is art worth a price because of the weight of the name behind it, or because it makes you feel a certain way? If something in these old abandoned circuit boards resonated with me- the way a human heart was almost beating up to life on the backs of something that may well replace human hearts in the future- then that resonance should be worth more than whether I'd heard the artist's name before. Who decided who becomes famous, and who gets lost in streets and mussed tablecloths and fallen names? And in the end, aren't kind hands worth more than curated, perfection-ized ones?

When it came time to pay I didn't have a card, or cash- 21st century woman that i am- and with the last dredges of my battery i made what was his first ever apple pay payment on the little square that stuck out of his phone. The little click and chime was nothing new to me, but he said "I have lived 75 years, and this is the first time I have been able to receive payment on my phone like this" or something along those lines. Weeks, months, days from now my memory will fade, and so will his- but I hope that just like his rendering of science and beauty will stay with me forever, the memory of the girl in the tiger print shirt who didn't know who he was but was drawn helplessly to his art will stay with him, if not forever then at least for a little while.

On a separate note, enjoy a screen recording of my decorating my wall with his art and with all the other art I've acquired (and made) over the years because this feels like a safer, less known space than the hoards of people I don't know on instagram. I want to look back at this blog years later and find myself in past words. This is my moment, frozen, lest I lose myself along the way.

*To my immense relief, he is "real". His name is Sean Kilcoyne (who is also a baseball player? what?). Here is an article talking about his artwork in SF from 1997: https://www.sfgate.com/homeandgarden/article/gallery-displays-handcrafted-works-2790517.php

[fairlyqualityanon]

Hey Emma. I’m using the submission box cause anon doesn’t work for some reason.

I don’t know completely what happened, but from what I’ve gathered, I’m truly sorry you’ve had to deal with such toxic people. They’re not your friends. True friends don’t use information to harm each other, and they CERTAINLY keep their word. I know I’m just an anon, but I and several others would truly miss you if you died. Perhaps you can talk to some of the other people on here, like [PERSON 1] or [PERSON 2]?

I hope you’re feeling better mentally, and if you need to take a social media break, then please do so. Stay safe.

P.S. Some of us do care and don’t want you to shut up, but as someone who’s brain tells them to shut up too, all I can offer is a virtual hug.

(changed names for some semblance of anonymity)

Weird, it was working earlier, and I don’t think I’ve blocked anyone recently that’s not a porn/spam blog…

Well… without getting into the grisly details, Person 1 knew ahead of time my history and promised to tell the others. When I finally messaged them (44 hours later) saying they didn’t keep their promise, I was told I was too harsh with Jane and the person who kept defending her. When I asked them asked after Jane did her victim-blaming BS (except for the “I should die” Jane’s entire vent was plagiarized from my conversation with her explaining why/how badly I was hurt, which she also did last time soooooo), they said all 3 mods agreed “Emma said I hurt her so I will publicly threaten to kill myself” was absolutely unacceptable, but afaik nothing was said in the chat about it. They also claimed that tons of people had asked them if I was okay… obviously, I have 0 reason to believe that. They also said they believed me, and I’m trying to believe that’s true.

As for Person 2, they’re the one who announced I was harassing Jane; afaik nothing was said to correct the “Hey turns out Jane was harassing Emma and Emma was trying to explain to you guys what was going on in the middle of a PTSD spiral and you’ve all been dogpiling on her without bothering to ask a single question” mistake. When I was purging followers yesterday because I don’t want people who think her behavior is acceptable to follow me… I saw Person 2 publicly raving over how much they adore Jane. The truly messed up part is that ‘Nemesis’ + ‘Incident’ over a decade ago culminated in “I believe they sexually abused you and tried to get you to kill yourself, but they seem cool and you’re too damaged by them so I am going to be friends with them and don’t want to talk to you again”… fucking hell, man. People be like “wow you totally overreacted to something minor” until they see the longass history of assorted abuse I’ve been through.

So uh… it should be blatantly obvious why I don’t believe any “friends” care, not when their actions directly contradict the claims.

;.; Virtual hug is greatly appreciated, that’s all I’d really wanted, was for someone to notice I left because I was hurting and to care. On the bright side, I seem to have made a couple new friends out of it?

And yeah, leaving social media might be a good idea in theory, but I don’t really have anyone to talk to IRL. My coworkers are a horrible influence and we don’t have much in common beyond a twisted sense of humor. That’s why I wondered why I shouldn’t just make my own server. My therapist, when I told him the other day, said he was happy I’d left the server because - paraphrased - it sounded like a toxic middle school.

It’s less “my brain tells me to shut up” and more “people who saw whatever-’It’-was go down tell me to shut up because I had the audacity to (try and) stick up for myself” which… is what happened. That’s where that tag came from - which Jane stole last time she went “Emma didn’t appreciate me stealing her plot point and mocking her sona, how dare she harass me!!!”

[barfzal]

(I sent the Noah ask) ok so sorry I stirred your pot, I was just trying to clarify some things about his history. I don’t know him, but I doubt the other anon does as well. I just wanted to offer you some context and insight, not spark a lively one sided political discussion. I really don’t want to argue with you at all, you seem pretty cemented in what you believe and unwilling to change that, good for you. I just wanted to give you a run down on the situation. I won’t do it in the future lol

(Cont.) also please don’t put words in my mouth. I’m not upset with anyone, at all and for you to say I am is an ad hominem at best. I fully respect that some people have a zero tolerance policy for individuals who have in any way hinted that they support, believe, agree with, etc. with anything trumpet says. I really am not arguing with you I just wanted to get that off my chest and I hope you take the time to answer this respectfully and honestly because I think it will encourage discussion (Cont.) lastly, you don’t know me. Like at all. You don’t know anything about me. I am not a bigot apologist, I am not a trump supporter, I am not a conservative, I am not a bad person. Reflect on how easy it was for you to say those things to a grey face in sunglasses. Do you think being so defensive AND offensive fosters a place for discussion and amicably? Do you think fringe voters, or those just getting into politics, will look at that and model themselves after your aggressive behavior?

oh boy. okay, let’s get into this. you one hundred percent were not trying to clarify noah’s likes history. in your original ask you started by explaining some of noah’s liked tweets which i guess was in response to my very reasonably answered ask from august. then you threw in what could be clearly read as a jab because it was one: “it seems like tumblr forgets that liking a tweet isn’t the same thing as like, worshiping the ideology it’s hinting at.” you implied here that tumblr users lack the ability to understand that liking bigoted tweets in support of trump is not the same as supporting trump which is just blatantly wrong. the whole point of “liking” a tweet is because you like it. you like what was said. it was either funny, interesting or something you agree with. everything you like on the internet is a reflection of you. algorithms are quite literally tailored to your likes because they know you like that thing and they will show you more of it, so that argument is old. 

then you went on to defend noah by saying “He’s probably conservative,,, maaaaybe republican, but I doubt he’s a ‘trumpie’” right there, you made an excuse for his behavior which we discussed is very flawed because being conservative or maybe republican is still damaging and harmful. conservatives and republicans hold a lot of very harmful and morally skewed beliefs that often value money and conservative tradition over human rights, freedoms, and happiness. 

i never claimed to know you. you are an anonymous person in MY ask box. i don’t know you in the slightest, but you get the advantage of looking at my blog and getting to know me. i never called you a trump supporter, a conservative or a bad person. i called you a bigot apologist and said you were being obtuse because you made excuses for a bigot liking bigoted tweets. you’re also willfully pretending that liking some tweets like noah did isn’t participating in the normalization of harmful, bigoted rhetoric.

i don’t have to “reflect” on how easy it was for me to tell you that you were a bigot apologist because i would say it to your face if you were sitting across from me. how defensively you reacted honestly proves my point even more in my opinion. not once did i disrespect you. i called a spade a spade, and a hit dog will holler. 

you don’t get to tone police anyone and how they react to your poor political takes. i’m not here to be an example for people just getting into politics, and i never claimed to be that. you don’t get to tell me that i’m being too aggressive when i’m speaking on politics. you started off making jabs in your ask that would elicit this response. you even started this poor attempt at a rebuttal with “sorry I stirred your pot.” another jab. stop victimizing yourself.

lastly, you can come off anon any time you want. that was your choice to hide behind the anonymous logo. i could read your entire autobiography and sit down for lunch with you, but at the end of the day, you came to me and made excuses for a white man liking tweets that you yourself called “questionable” which is actually just a word which softens the severity of liking harmful tweets like that. you are a bigot apologist, and i stand by that. i don’t have to censor my thoughts or my opinions to be more polite or kind when these political debates directly affect my life and my rights. 

[hugheshugs]

riri i just had this random thought for your daddy issues au. like you’ve been asking brendan to buy you something maybe a bag or a dress but he keeps telling you that you have enough but when hunter asks for something bren buys it immediately. so obviously you’re a little sad and you tell thom about it and he goes and buys it for you and places it on your desk so it’s anonymous and you go hug brendan who’s a little taken a back by your display of affection but he doesn’t mind it because you look the happiest you’ve been in a long time and it reminds him of a time before their mother left

i don’t know i’m just rambling rn

im in awe with this. the things thom does for his best friend.. and you, of course

i can so see her wanting a dress that really matches her vibe and bren being like "that dress looks the same as all your other ones." and you keep prying and trying to convince him but he doesnt break, saying something along the same lines every time.

one day after another unsuccessful attempt, thom sees you walking away, deflated with a pout on your lips.

"what's wrong?" he asks, stopping you in your tracks.

"it's nothing," you mumble, looking down at your feet.

"y/n, c'mon. what's got you so upset?" he insists and you sigh, glancing up at him.

"i wanted this dress," you reveal, opening your laptop to show him the exact one. he eyes it carefully as you continue speaking, lightly smiling to himself because it's so you.

"i've been asking my dad if he can buy it for me so long but he keeps saying no," a frown forms upon your face. "it would make me really happy. do you think you can convince him?"

he looks at you with a gleam in his eyes. "i'll see what i can do."

a couple days later, you wake up to a mysterious box sitting on your desk. upon opening it, you have to hold back a scream of joy, jumping in excitement as you see the dress you've been wanting for weeks.

you set it down and run downstairs to find your dad. he's with some of the guys in the kitchen, including thomas, but your head makes them blurry as you wrap him into a tight hug from behind.

he didn't see you coming so his eyes widen at the unexpected feeling, looking down to see your arms wrapped around his torso. "y/n, why are you hugging me?"

his question results in a snort from mackie, which results in a smack on the shoulder from thomas who had a hard time holding back the grin so desperately waiting to show.

"thank you," you say as you let go, causing your dad to turn to you.

"for what?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

"for being the best dad ever! i love you," you pull him into a hug once more and again, he looks down at you in shock. he side eyes his friends, his gaze meeting thomas' whose eyes spoke hug her you dumbass.

so he did. his arms wrapped around you tightly as a feeling of warmth settled in his heart. a hand came up to stroke your hair before he leant down to press a kiss to the topof your head.

"i love you," he whispered for your ears only.