#trying to get back into writing slowly

[tired-teacher-blog]

On the off chance that Aizawa manages to get you mad at him for whatever reason, your initial reaction would be to let him know, because as quick witted as he is, things like that can easily go over his head if not pointed out clearly.

Surely he hates upsetting you, so when it happens it's usually no more than a misunderstanding, but it's also not in his nature to flat out apologize or ask for forgiveness, that's why he'd do his utmost to lighten the mood and win you back in other ways, and it's a sight to behold.

First he would simply invade your personal space, taking a seat by your side while making sure to bump his knee or shoulder against yours and see if you're willing to have him near.

Obviously you do not react to his advances, but wouldn't push him away either– too intrigued by your own curiosity to dismiss him just yet, so you sit back and enjoy the view of him struggling internally.

He then carefully leans some of his weight on you, will probably even rest his head against yours or place a hand on your thigh, depending on the mood, to which you still say and do nothing.

That's when his patience starts running thin, or rather, when he realizes that he has truly messed up and needs to swallow his pride and apologize properly, and so he does.

_ "I'm sorry I was out of line, but it won't happen again I promise." his voice would be small and anxious as he cautiously takes your hand in his big calloused ones, fiddling with your fingers while gazing at you with a tinge of worry, and that's the only thing he seems capable of doing at the moment.

You immediately give in to a smile that's been threatening to creep across your face this whole time, because in reality, you were never actually upset with him, you were just relishing a side of your boyfriend that you rarely get to witness, but maybe you should cut him some slack already?

_ "It's okay Shouta, let's just forget about it." and you jump in his arms without a warning, giving him no time to react while moving to straddle his waist and watch as his stunned expression slowly switches to an amused one.

_ "Done," he nods in agreement, wrapping his arms around you before nuzzling your cheek to whisper seductively, "now kiss me."

And it doesn't stop there, not with a kiss, never with just a kiss, and his greed for you starts to show when he shamelessly slides his hands lower and lower until reaching your butt cheeks, squeezing your flesh teasingly as a sign of what awaits you, and if that's not enough to tell his intentions, then the smirk curving his lips as they mold perfectly with yours, sure is.

[zgvlt]

hi 😁

[bluerosefox]

A Little Robin

Has this been thought of before? (If so someone please, please send me it. I wanna read)

Either due to something his parents made to catch ghosts or some kind of new "I'm gonna end Jack but my soon to be step-son needs to be out of the way" plan by Vlad, Danny (as Phantom) gets trapped in a doll, a bird(robin) doll/plushy.

Somehow, someway the doll get sold or sent to Gotham and is picked up by Dick one day while shopping who decides to give the doll to one of his brothers (or Steph cause she was a Robin as well -slides on mutli-shipper shades- I'm not picky) cause it's Dick trying to be funny. (Or he keeps it cause it's a Robin plush)

Danny, whose slowly regaining his powers even in plush form (maybe whatever got him stuck in the plush is wearing off over time, not enough that he can get out though), is trying very hard to get back home (he tired mailing himself once but someone almost caught him moving about, let's go with like Toy Story rules). He doesn't want to get caught in Gotham cause of the bats, when he finds out his 'owner' is part of the batfam he REALLY doesn't want to get caught. Cue many moments of Danny trying to get his way home under the radar.

And... he tries very hard not to crush on his 'owner' too as well...

[mxxnlightwriting]

reminder that more often than not, it's important to take breaks from writing instead of forcing yourself through it. listen to your body and intuition.

i say this as someone who writes almost every day. sometimes, that isn't sustainable. sometimes, you need to take breaks from your projects because you're tired from working on them. i have to admit that understanding when to stop and take a break is a skill in itself, but with time, you will master it. you've got this. if not today, then tomorrow.

today, you rest. tomorrow, if you feel like writing, great! if not, rest a bit more. you know yourself better than anyone else. so trust yourself to know when to get back into writing. and don't punish yourself for not doing it.

[dakogutin]

for @wolfstarmicrofic prompt: angel au -262 words

A raging headache greeted Sirius first thing as he came back into consciousness.

“What do you remember?”

Blinking awake, Sirius let his mind go over the blur of memories from last night. As soon as he did, his head protested and he groaned. His hand rose to his temple.

“Not much,” Sirius gritted.

The voice hummed, prompting him to continue.

“I was at… a party, which explains this dreadful hangover.” Sirius scrubbed his eyes and squinted as he adjusted to the sunlight. Everything was horribly bright. “Oh, wait! I remember snogging someone. No, hold on… I think we didn’t because I was too drunk or something. I can’t remember the name, but he was really pretty. Big brown eyes and all.”

“Please focus.”

“Alright, jeez. Well, I think he was with me the whole night. Kept me company, but that’s it. His hair looked soft and his eyes were really pretty too, James, you should've seen him.” He then paused at an abrupt thought. “And I’m quite sure he had angel wings as well.” A smirk rose to his lips, suddenly picturing blasphemous things with it.

“Right. Nothing else?”

A quick scene of the river from the top of the bridge and a blinding light flashed to the forefront of his mind.

Sirius shook his head. “No.” He didn’t need to talk about that weird dream. “See? I’m fine. I didn’t do anything I wouldn’t normally do.”

“Only because I was there to make sure of it.”

This woke Sirius up. That couldn't be James.

“Take care, Sirius.”

Then the sunlight decided it was done blinding him, Sirius sat up and found himself all alone.

[of-pale]

Just an average day of Nero hanging out with the twins:

> Vergil refuses to go out in the public unless it's necessary like the introvert he is

> Dante wants to go out because that's where pizza and strawberry sundaes are

> Dante messes with no half melted strawberry sundaes from deliveries

> Only the fresh shit at Fredi’s will do or no dice

> How else will Vergil catch up on all the human wonders, if he doesn't go outside?

> Dante suggests going to the cinema, bowling, arcades etc.

> Vergil is only willing to go to calm places with no crowds like library, bookstore or a museum

> Nero tries to find a compromise and contain the situation

> It's going well, obviously

[boxboysandotherwhump]

I polished an old piece of mine, trying to get into creating stuff again :3

[unexpectedbrickattack]

heehee (pepstavo under the cut)

[nicogayngelo]

you're my golden hour

rated explict | 4/13 | 3.2k

SUMMARY:

jake + bradley’s relationship throughout the years.

CHAPTERS:

slow burn / lonely weekend / butterflies / oh, what a world / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13

[the-lightning-strikes-again]

I'm so sorry to hear you were in an accident im glad you are alive and feeling okay again <3<3

I'd love to send you a lotura prompt, hopefully it lifts your spirits to be back on that sweet ship.

How about Lotor and Allura talking about weapons? (i.e. Like how Allura prefers a staff and Lotors sword designs (like the one he was first shown with) )

Hey, good to hear from you and thanks for your super kind note!! I'm doing a little better each day and am excited to get back to regular routines! While I was on hold over the phone about paperwork today, I managed to exercise my brain with the prompt you gave me! <3

Staff vs. Sword

Emperor Lotor leans against a wall, crossing his arms and quirking a slim, white eyebrow at the princess before him. “Surely, you jest with me,” he murmurs. “A staff again?”

Princess Allura beams, and she grabs her favorite staff from the blunted practice weapons with a solid grip, fingers tight. With a quick flick of her wrist, she spins it and sets the end solidly on the ground. “My bayard for Blue Lion also turns into a whip,” she says nonchalantly, “but that seems entirely unfair to use against you, as it produces an electric shock.”

“Ah, yes.” His eyes crinkle, his slit pupils dilating with softness. He adds dryly, “Because we do not already create enough sparks on the courts.”

She brushes back her long, thick braid and waggles her eyebrows. “You said it, not me.” And then she pokes his chest plate with the end of her staff. “Do tell me you’re not afraid of a second round after I defeated you.”

“And nearly caused an intergalactic incident,” he says, voice halted. “The training grounds are intended for practicing the art of combat—not the art of catching one’s opponent off-guard with a kiss.”  

With a giggle, Allura pulls the staff back, her Altean markings glowing a bright pink. “Yes, well, we Alteans have a saying that all’s fair in love and war. Now, pick your weapon, dear emperor, so that I may defeat you once more. And do choose something other than a sword this time—at least mix it up for me?”

Lotor eyes her before grabbing a blunted sword from the wall, inspecting its balance. His long fingers grip the hilt tightly. “A sword is the best extension of a warrior’s will,” he declares, raising his chin with a petulant chin. “It is simple. It is efficient. It is my favorite weapon.”

Allura sighs dramatically at him. “It does not have quite the—” she waves her hand—“the impact of a staff, though.”

He raises the silver sword to her. “The staff is an impact weapon,” he says dryly. “You simply seek to showcase your Altean strength to the Galra who prowl these courts, and that is why you prefer it as of late."

“Tish tosh,” she says, planting her feet properly on the training mat and eyeing him with an increased wariness. She knows Lotor likes to strike unexpectedly. “I also happen to like the way training robots crumple to bits beneath a staff. It relieves the stress I feel after a large conference with intergalactic leaders.”

A tick of silence stretches between them.

And then in a blur, Lotor races toward her, slashing down.

She blocks with the staff and swings, and he ducks smoothly before stepping back, flipping the sword in his hand.

He paces the mat, the overhead lights capturing the glow of his eyes like a predator in the dark wilderness. “Poor Princess Allura,” he teases. “All the power in the universe, and yet you fear the peace we have wrought together, instead longing for means of violence. Are you certain you are not of Galran blood somewhere in that long ancestry of yours?”

Alura’s voice strains as she circles him as well, resetting her staff. “I can’t think of a single species that doesn’t enjoy a rough tumble now and again, in a safe, non-war environment. Why, the humans even have something called, um—” Her concentration breaks as she pauses, snapping her fingers. “Um, wrestling. And something called rugby. And then they have a very large, worldwide competition for their various violent sports, called the Olympics.”

Lotor pauses.

His slit pupils widen in curiosity of other cultures. “Olympics? Is that similar to a Kral Zera?”

“Somewhat,” she nods, “but instead of choosing a world leader by, um, killing everyone, these tournaments are for medals that they wear around their necks and then bite in front of cameras. And no one dies generally.”

He lunges again, and in a blur, wrenches the staff away from her hands and presses her up against a wall.

Allura squeaks, eyes wide.

His nose is inches from her own, his breath a hot puff against her face. “How very curious.”  

Her breath stalls as her cheeks heat hard enough to radiate to him. “Um, y-yes.”

Lotor’s wide mouth splits as he whispers against her mouth, “Fortunately for you, princess, I’ve no intent to fight you truly, or you would already be dead with your silly staff. And if it were these Olympics, you would have no medal to bite.”

Face flushed, her eyes narrow to slits, and before Lotor can avoid it, she hooks her ankle against his and unbalances him. Surprised claws protract from his hands, gripping into her practice armor and his eyes widen.

And the two royals fall in a pile of limbs upon the mat, with Allura sprawled on top of a stunned Lotor, his sword clattering to the mat beside them.  

“Oh, no,” she says with a triumphant giggle, hands planted over his chest plate. Her curly flyaways are an angelic halo around her face. “You lowered your weapon but did not fully secure me, so I still win.”

Lotor grumps beneath her, his lavender cheeks flushing as he grips her forearms.

And despite Galra leadership watching the courts and murmuring with gossip in the far distance, Lotor softens. His rough, calloused thumbs stroke a pink marking along her bare forearm. “Best two out of three, then? I promise to secure you fully next time and cause another scandal for it.”

Allura leans forward, eyes sparkling. “Very well, Emperor Lotor. You’re on.”

[seiwas]

just a lil bit of a share ! i’ve been feeling really down lately about not writing that much 🥲 and keeping up with posting more frequently/updating a few of my series more regularly 🥲 but i looked at my masterlists and noticed almost 60% of my fics are actually from this year and we’re only half-way in 🥺

anyway ! the point of this is, if you’re being too hard on yourself today, i hope you’re reminded that you’re doing much better than you think 🥺

[chaos-has-theories]

Hunith leaned on her rake and watched as the car swerved into the driveway. It had barely come to a halt when the passenger door opened and Gwen climbed out. She looked tense. She was also drenched from head to toe. The hem of her jeans sagged, the rest of it looked damp and clammy. Her shirt must have dried during the drive home, but it had bits of seaweed stuck to it. Her hair was eighty percent frizz. When she saw Hunith at the fence, Gwen smiled unconvincingly, and sped towards her house just slow enough that it couldn’t be called a run. The driver’s door slammed loudly and Arthur came stomping around the car. He looked no better than Gwen: If anything, he was wetter than she had been. He didn’t even grab anything from the trunk, much less wait until he could lock the car. He just marched into the house and slammed that door behind him, too. Just as Hunith thought that scene couldn’t get any stranger, the back door opened and her son climbed out. The greeting died on her lips before it could escape. Merlin looked like a storm warning. Hunched shoulders, pursed lips, flashing eyes - oh, and he was wearing a dress. Not even a good dress. It was an oversized grey monstrosity and looked like it came from the garbage bin of a secondhand store. It was definitely not one of Hunith’s. Merlin had bunched it up at the hips in at attempt not to stumble over the long skirts, and he stomped past her and into the house with no sign that he had seen his mother at all. She could hear him all the way up the stairs, and then the slam of his bedroom door. Alright then. All the noise must have roused Gaius from his afternoon nap. He stuck his head out the door, looking exactly as bewildered as Hunith felt. „Was that Merlin?“, he asked. Hunith nodded. “And... a wig?” Another nod. „Hm.“ With a final puzzled look up the stairs, Gaius retreated to his study. Hunith turned back just in time to see Mordred clambering out like the smallest clown in the clown car. He was dry and dressed normally, but he was wearing an expression of utter defeat. With his towel held in front of him like a terrycloth shield he walked towards Hunith as if he’d much rather write a difficult math test. He dithered at the gate for a moment, and then met Hunith’s gaze only to sigh the world-weariest sigh she had ever heard. (Which was saying something. Hunith had lived with Gaius for most of her life, and would have previously named him world champion of sighing. Somehow this was still the most normal thing that had happened in the past ten minutes.) „My dads will pick me up in a few minutes“, Mordred told her morosely. „Can I wait here?“ „Of course“ Hunith hurried to say. „Do you want something to drink? Bal made cookies, if you want any. They’re in the kitchen.“ Mordred gave the door Merlin had stormed through a long, dubious look. „I think I’d rather wait out here.“ „Alright.“ Hunith watched as he settled himself on the doorstep, towel in his lap. With a deliberately casual air she picked up the shovel and continued weeding. „I probably don’t even want to know“ she said conversationally, „but what exactly happened at the lake?“ The child behind her made a noise like an upset mouse. „I don’t know“, he whined. „Merlin doesn’t tell me anything.“ Hunith looked over her shoulder to see Mordred scuff at the earth with his shoes, a frustrated expression on his face. „But I had to help Merlin put on a costume and Gwen and Arthur fell into the water and they both cried and everyone shouted and I think they broke up.“ „I see“, Hunith said faintly. That would fit with what she’d seen, but - she’d thought Gwen had broken up with Arthur a week ago? And anyway, none of this explained the costume, or really anything, but she’d decided to ignore that for now. „I’m sorry that happened. It sounds uncomfortable.“ „I’m sorry it happened too.“

[retroautomaton]

✨ Metropolis Cocktail ✨

Here’s the first few pages of my first full-length comic with the crew, to close out the Halloween season! 🎃

pg. 1, 2, & 3

[bluerosefox]

Across My Memories

......

.....

-hums Once Upon a December-

Ghost Prince!Jason.

..... ghost prince!Jason where when Jason died instead of waking up in his own door room (headcanon doors are private rooms all ghosts gain once dead, its their safe spot, rooms can expand into lairs if the ghost gets strong enough) he wakes up in the Ghost King gardens.

He's found and taken to (older) King Danny who takes one look at the newborn baby ghost, (verbally) rips into his guards for manhandling a baby, and offers Jason a place to stay while they try to locate his room so he can recover and stable his core. (That's why ghosts stay in their rooms upon being made until they're strong enough to leave and venture out, Jason is advised not to run off since they have no idea where his room is and Danny being King of the Realm can basically substitute the ectoplasm needed to stable him just by being around Jason)

Over time and Jason slowly learning to trust Danny, Danny starts treating Jason unknowingly like a son and Jason slowly sees Danny as another dad (only less emotionally constipated (Bruce) or abusive (Willis))

Everyone in the Kingdom knows it too, but since Danny hasn't made it official they don't call Jason 'Prince' or 'Young Master' instead they call him 'Favored Star' and 'Starlight' since Danny adores space and stars and the Ghosts honor Jason with those title's.

They realize that they've been treating each other as family when Jazz comes to visit and points it out. Danny freaks out for a moment before going to talk to Jason, whose been hoarding himself in the royal library. They talk, Jason freaks a bit (maybe runs off trying to figure out his own emotions over it. Doesn't want to get hurt again by a 'father figure' again, maybe gets in trouble? Or runs into Jazz and talks about it to her)

Eventually Danny decides to make it official and Jason becomes Prince Jason of the Infinite Realms. Everyone is excited, and a huge ball is thrown in Jason’s honor. Its a night Jason keeps close to his core because once the ball is over, Danny and Jason go sneaking into the kitchens to get some hot coco and goes into Danny’s study where Jason reads his favorite book out loud next to the fireplace while Danny works on some paperwork but is listening to the story.

Anyways since time in the Realms is weird that despite being dead for a small few years in the living Realm, Jason feels like many more years have passed in the Infinite Realm and because he’s been around Danny (and is Prince of the Realms) he has grown older (its why when he’s brought back he looked like the way he did when he died but was comatose, his ghost/soul didn’t match the body anymore and it isn’t until he’s tossed in the Pits that it corrects his body to match who he was now, its also why the Pit Madness stays with him for so long) Jason has grown into his role as a Prince and he’s happy with his (after)life (and has come to terms with many things in his life, thanks Auntie Jazz)

So when one day the Prince goes completely missing, to the point he can no longer be felt in its Realms, the Infinite Realm ‘awakens’ to the rage and worry of their King.

Meanwhile, Jason awakens underground in his coffin, dazed, confused, scared and crawls out of the ground, his soul/ghost despite being in its body isn’t attached correctly and thus his mind is blank, he’s alive but not really there. It isn’t until later when he’s tossed in the Pits and rage overtakes him that his soul/ghost is connected again, wrongly put together but connected at least. It isn’t until later when his core slowly tries fixing the rage/Pit Madness when he starts getting fuzzy and hazy memories of someplace he can no longer remember but wants to go back to, wants to find.

A sky of shifting shades of green, a castle with knights, a ball and dancing figures, the sound of a fireplace crackling and a pen scrawling across paper as the taste of hot coco phantoms its way in his memories.      

[sidekick-hero]

I want you to want me

(Teen | wc: 922 | steddie | prompt: open mic night for @steddieholidaydrabbles | tags: exes, open but hopeful ending, inspired by my favorite movie of all times 10 things I hate about you)

"Come on, Eddie. You've been moping around for weeks. Let's have some fun like we used to, man." Gareth was practically whining at Eddie and it was getting on his nerves.

"No way, man. I'm not moping, I just don't feel like going to some dumb-ass party to watch preppy jerks get drunk and barf in the bushes."

Never mind that the one person he actually wants to see won't be there. He'll still spend every second looking for that familiar shock of hair he loved running his hands through. He dreams about it still, can still hear the way Steve sounded when he tugged at the strands at the back of his neck.

He wonders when it'll stop hurting so much to think about him. To miss him like a fucking limb or something and still be afraid to even call him. What could he even say? I'm sorry for breaking your heart and I understand you hate me. The problem is that while acting like I cared about you for money I actually went and fell in love with you, so will you please give me another chance.

Yeah, sure.

"You're not even listening, dude. Harrington has really gotten to you," Gareth huffs, sounding genuinely upset. Eddie has hurt enough people he cares about, so he gives Gareth a look that says ‘I’m listening’ and Gareth rolls his eyes at him, but continues. "I told you about the open mic night, Will's reading one of his short stories and asked me to come. Me. This could be my chance. And you owe me man for all the crazy shit I helped you with while courting a jock of all people. So you coming or what?"

Gareth’s right, is the thing. Eddie owes him for everything, helping him in so many ways to make Steve fall for him. Coming with him to this stupid thing is the least he can do. He doesn’t have to like it though, so Eddie throws his arms up in the universal gesture of ‘fine, whatever, but I'm not going to enjoy watching you make goo-goo eyes at Will Byers’.

Gareth's rubs his hands together like some sort of super-villain with extremely fluffy hair and Eddie regrets all his life choices.

Open mic night is just as awful as Eddie thought it would be. There's this girl, something silly Thompson, and Eddie feels like he's listening to a small animal giving birth as she sings the national anthem. It's deeply disturbing.

He lost Gareth as soon as they entered the bar and Will spotted them and waved Gareth over. And that's a good thing, he's really not in the mood to watch them fall over each other.

They've been in this hellhole for almost an hour when he spots something that makes his stomach do somersaults while his skin starts to tingle all over. A shock of mousy brown hair, messier than usual, probably from Steve running his hands through it nervously.

His breath stops as he sees Steve climbing onto the stage with a single sheet of paper in his hand, chewing on his full lower lip as he stares out at the crowd. Eddie wants his eyes to find his. He is afraid that they will.

"Hey, uh, everybody. My best friend thinks I need to find some closure? Or something. Maybe she just likes to see me suffer for being an asshole in school. Anyway, I, uh, I'm just starting, I guess."

Eddie's stomach plummets at Steve's words. Closure. He should leave before he has to listen to Steve tell him and everyone in this room how much he hates Eddie.

He's not sure if he'll survive the damage to his heart, but he deserves the pain, he knows it. So he stays.

To everyone else, Steve must look calm, maybe a little embarrassed to be up there. But Eddie sees the way the hand holding the paper trembles, the way his eyebrows knit together, and the self-soothing way the fingertips of his other hand keep tapping his thumb.

I hate the way you talk to me, and the way you cut your hair. I hate the way you drive my car, I hate it when you stare. I hate your big dumb combat boots, and the way you read my mind. I hate you so much it makes me sick, It even makes me rhyme. I hate the way you're always right, I hate it when you lie. I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry. I hate it when you're not around, and the fact that you didn't call. But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you, Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.

Halfway through, Steve's eyes find his, and even with the way Steve pinches his nose, there is no way to stop the tears from streaming down his face. Eddie's heart breaks again for the man in front of him. God, how could he have been so stupid and selfish to accept an offer from Carver, of all people, to woo Steve so he could make a move on his sister Chrissy?

When Steve’s finished, he almost runs off the stage and out the door while Eddie stands shocked, Steve's words ringing in his ears.

But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you, not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.

Maybe they still have a chance.

[icewindandboringhorror]

boy in silly sitting positions compilation