#you can only write “for yourself” so much before it's not worth the time and effort

[ctrl-alt-em]

Communication is Key

Robin

I am Morven Hellwain. You have carried my spirit in your body for the last two months. As I am sure you have not figured out, when you lose consciousness, I gain control of our shared vessel. I need you to sleep as frequently as possible. Additionally, avoid bodily harm. I do not appreciate having to cast Cure Wounds when I wake.

Dear Morven Hellwain

Are you the reason for all the strange happenings? Did you explode the wolves? Lug says you killed that monster in the bunk house.

I go to sleep every night. I guess it is every other night? I don’t think I can sleep more than that and still help.

Thank you for healing my leg. Happen says he did not aim for me. His sprites played a mean prank.

From Robin Oatcake

Robin

I cannot fathom how you think you, the village idiot, can be of any help. The only way you can help is by ensuring I am in control as much of the time as possible.

As for your initial questions, yes, I am. I cannot imagine anything of note occurring in your proximity without my influence. I am not directly responsible for the wolves’ destruction; the recent unpredictable outcomes of spells is to blame. You need not concern yourself with magic.

Dear Morven Hellwain

I was not the village idiot. That was Young Man Dan. I was the spit-turner before I lost my job seven weeks ago.

I can be a great help! I helped save Lug from those men. I even injured one! And I was the one that got help when that man turned into a monster. Happen said I did a good job. I even helped us meet our friends and join our adventuring party. You are just upset that I can help just as much as you. I understand that. I was jealous of Tilly the spitturn dog too at first.

From Robin Oatcake

Robin

From the other's accounts of the confrontation with the mob, it does not sound like you played a needed role. It is no show of strength or skill to hit a blinded, maimed man with stale bread. As for the combat at Folkmoot, others surely would have heard and come to our aid, supposing I did not defeat the abomination before their arrival. You did nothing a dog would not be capable of. A dog likely would have been of greater help and less of liability.

Robin

You will get us both killed if you disregard my advice. Your 'help' is not needed nor wanted, I assure you.

To Morven Hellwain

I was thinking about back home, all the weird things people kept telling me. Leslie, the head cook, was cross with me. She said I missed work twice and that I insulted her in the market. I had no idea what she was talking about. I assumed she mistook me for someone else and I tried to tell her so. She said I was lying and fired me! It occurred to me that she might not have been lying. Was it you she saw? Are you the reason I lost my job?

From Robin Oatcake

Robin

Of all the things you could waste my time with, you chose this? Your 'job' is hardly worth the ink we are wasting writing about it. I will acknowledge that I was in control of our body several times before our departure. I did lose my patience with several of the dimwitted residents of the village so I very well may have offended the head 'cook'. I would not consider the loss of any great consequence. If anything, it is beneficial. Your 'occupation' would have delayed your departure for Folkmoot. You may thank me for my help in your next note. Hopefully, the writing will tire you.

To Morven

And what about my house? Did you tell the apothecary she could give it to her goat? If you wanted to run me out of my village so bad, you could have written to me earlier.

From Robin

Robin

If I recall correctly, and I do, the old hag asked me, "How I am supposed to keep a roof over my goat's head if you don't pay?" To that, I said, "Give the fucking goat my roof. I don't care." And I continue to not care. Your hovel was little more than a goat's shelter anyway.

I have spoken with Happen and he is aware of a root that induces a harmless sleep state. I have procured some. It is in the outer pouch of our bag.

To Morven

It is not our bag. It is my bag. And I don't need anything to help me sleep. A long day of traveling with my friends does that enough. Seeing as I have no work or home to return to, I will be with them for the foreseeable future regardless of our mission.

If you want to be helpful, Morven, you will tell me how to use magic myself and how I get you out of me.

From Robin

Robin

You cannot use magic. It would require innate talent or years of study, neither of which you have. Unless such fantasies lull you into a slumber, do not concern yourself with such endeavors.

I am looking into potential methods to separate us. However, until magic has been returned to its original state and I gather more information on what caused my spirit to enter your body in the first place, no significant progress can be made. You need not be involved.

To Morven

How can I not get involved when I already am? You’re in my head! You walk around in my body half the time! I should be the only one in my body!

And how do you know I don’t have inate innate talent? Maybe I just haven’t had need to use it.

From Robin

Robin

Knock yourself out as soon as you see this. Lug, Cressida, and Willowfine have been captured by a group of zealots and I need to go save their skins.

To Morven

No need to worry. Me and Happen did it ourselves. You should have seen how far Lug hit this one guy with his hammer once we got him out.

From Robin

Robin

That is not what I told you to do. You will get us both killed.

Willowfine said she saw you use magic. I can only assume you located a scroll and stumbled your way into using it correctly.

To Morven

You were wrong, Morven. I do have a talent for magic, no scroll needed, whatever those are. Mine is not as pretty or orderly as yours but I can cast spells. Cressida thinks that might be why you didn’t have trouble casting in my body.

You may thank me for my help in your next note. I will not ask you to knock yourself out because I have manners.

From Robin

Robin

I have spoken with Cressida and Willowfine regarding your spelling casting. As must I detest to acknowledge it, I suppose it makes sense. Either my spirit brought my magic potential with it or my spirit was attracted to your magic potential. I do believe the first one is the more likely of the two. It still stands that between the two of us, I am the more proficient and thus should handle any and all confrontations.

To Morven

Willowfine says we should try to come to a compromise. She said our attempts to screw with each other and limit the other’s time awake is annoying.

How about a deal? If I find myself in situations that I cannot handle, I will find a way to allow you to take control if you agree to cease trying to stay awake for days on end. If the group stops to sleep, you sleep and let me take control.

From Robin

Robin

After much strong arming from the others, I agree to your terms.

Robin

Why am I not surprised you have Wild Magic? Of all sorcerous origins, you draw power from the most unruly and unpredictable.

With that said, I request that you cast something that will offer you improved defense or evasion when in a confrontation. You cannot rely on Acid Splash only.

- Morven

[physalian]

On Hyper Independent Characters (and how not to make them the bad guy)

So many characters with “trust issues” are painted out to be cynical little gremlins who just need to ~open their hearts~ and ~let the love in~ like doing so, repeatedly, has only proven them right every single time, but this one love interest will swoop in and save the day.

The people who write these characters tend to do so in bad faith, as if their fears and trust issues are unfounded nonsense, like they’re wrong and Negative Nellys for being wary.

So!

From experience (thus this is hella biased), here’s some thoughts on writing an independent character with trust issues that isn’t belittling.

1. It’s likely not that kind of trust they have issues with

I said this before a while ago, but “trust issues” paired with an extreme sense of self-reliance isn’t “I think everyone is a liar,” but rather “I think everyone is unreliable”. It might stem from a place of constantly being let down, of constantly having the people in their life drop the ball on major events, but also little things, even something as simple as “hey yeah I’ll totally do the dishes” and then they continue to sit there, forcing the person to be a nag about it, or just do it themselves.

These kinds of personalities tend to grow up surrounded by unkept and empty promises, where, while it might not be every single occasion, it happens one too many times for them to keep giving the benefit of the doubt. Even when people have the best of intentions and mean it when they say they’ll do XYZ in the moment, and they really just forgot, the person they made the promise to is impatiently waiting for them to remember 12-day-old dishes.

2. Why don’t they just remind people to keep their promises?

If you’re in my boat, many people with commitment issues are also narcissists or just mean, who, if you even gently remind them, make you out to be a nagging, impatient brat. And to avoid hearing that again, you just don’t speak up. Too many times where ‘forgetting’ has been from a source of a weird power fantasy, intentionally screwing you over, leaves people sitting in a state of unknowing whether it’s benign neglect or very much on purpose, and afraid to voice their concerns to be proven right.

If you’re not in my boat, chronic “forgetters” aren’t going to change without intervention. So if I ask you to do the dishes once, and you forget, that’s one thing. If I ask you twice, three times, four times, nagging over and over again, then the benefit of the doubt is shredded, and I can’t help but assume that the “forgetting” is on purpose. Either weaponized incompetence or something more benign, doesn’t matter. Even if you have some executive dysfunction, that's an explanation, not an excuse, and the people you live with aren't your maids.

Either way, these personalities might grow up with a whole slew of self-worth issues, and be reluctant to make plans with people, invite friends to important events, or get excited about big milestones, because they’re so used to people they care about “forgetting” or canceling last minute that the only one they can trust to reliably show up is themselves.

3. Why don’t they just communicate these fears?

See the “narcissists” in point 2

4. Isn’t it lonely never letting people in?

Fuck yeah, it is. The thing is, though, that if you spend your whole life learning how to do everything alone—pay your bills, do ‘couple’ or ‘friend’ activities, run errands, take yourself out to places—the idea of having to squeeze in the wants and needs of someone else might start to sound incredibly inconvenient.

If you’re so used to being on your own schedule and reaping the benefits of being a party of 1 in crowded spaces (I just took myself to dinner at a place with an hour long wait, able to be seated immediately at the last remaining barstool), of not having to wait for someone else to confirm plans, negotiate who’s driving, negotiate a time to meet up, food to order, a movie to see, a roller coaster to ride, a game or streaming service to buy—everything is entirely under your control, sacrificing convenience for the chance that the person you invite actually shows up on time and is invested as you are isn’t really worth the risk.

That's not to say I don't enjoy when I get to do things with friends, but I can equally enjoy doing things alone as opposed to whining about it.

Personally, while I can daydream about having a romantic partner, that thought is always immediately followed up by the understanding that they’ll be an inconvenience to my independence. But I’m someone who’s always had to do the emotional labor in a relationship, who’s always the most organized, the most mature, the most level-headed in tough situations. Always been the person in groupwork who does all the work. The idea of being “a team” is a fantasy meant for other people. “Team” to me is “me and this deadweight that I have to drag around”.

5. How I’d like to see this represented in characters

Dropping “the one” into their lives and having this person swept up, broken out of their little pessimistic shell, in some epic romance, as if they only needed to find the right person and nothing at all goes wrong… is bad faith.

It’s bad faith because it minimizes this kind of independence as just a little mood problem that can be fixed right quick, that it’s inherently wrong—what was all the fuss about?

What I’d like to see is examples that prove they’re not crazy. Big and little things. Dishes, and big events. Then, they can meet “the one,” but not without some trial and error. A lifetime of “people suck and are unreliable” isn’t going to be snapped away bibbidi bobbidi boo after one good date. This magical person will have to show up, and keep showing up, and keep showing up, and the one time they don’t, because they won’t, then A and B can hash it out like adults.

6. How this person might act

I’ve never actually met somebody like me and we’d either be best friends or loathe each other. But this person might be the most reliable friend you’ve ever had, because they’re so afraid of becoming like everyone in their life who let them down before. If you ask a favor of them, it gets done with supernatural haste.

This person might also have their own commitment issues, where instead of failing to keep their promises, they punish themselves by keeping promises they hate, showing up out of spite and resentment because they said they would, lest they be called a hypocrite.

They might under-share or not speak up about accomplishments in their life until the time for hype and anticipation has passed, lest they share expecting the same level of excitement only to be met with apathy. They might not show visible excitement about objectively exciting things, because they’re so used to plans falling through that they won’t believe something is happening until they are physically in the location and it’s staring them in the face.

Thus, they might look frequently bored or unhappy and unmoved by something important to you, or something you thought they’d like (especially if you’ve let them down before, trust is a privilege, not a right).

7. What I’d like people to understand most of all

First, that some of us tend to live by the “if you want something done right do it yourself” mantra, so actually asking somebody for help with something is admitting that X cannot be done alone, which makes failure to keep a promise even worse. As in, if A goes out of their way to admit they can’t do F alone and risk being let down to ask B to do this one little thing for them, and B still drops the ball, A is going to sit there and think “this is why I have trust issues”.

Can’t speak for everyone, but yes I do acknowledge that the suffering in silence isn’t helping anyone and am working on it. Counterpoint: Weaponized incompetence is very real and an adult should not have to remind another adult to keep their living space clean, at the bare minimum. Agreeing to do a thing is at least equal responsibility on the inviter and invitee and "you didn't remind me" isn't a valid excuse.

But most importantly, if you have a friend or relative who is fiercely independent, I’d implore you to learn one thing: Do not make promises that you can’t keep. And if shit happens and you have to cancel even when you had the best of intentions, have the decency to tell them and make the best effort you can to reschedule ASAP, instead of putting the impetus on them to do the rescheduling. Make it absolutely clear that you do, in fact, care, and weren’t going out of some apathetic sense of obligation.

I cannot count the amount of times I have asked a friend to do something for me, they eagerly agreed, and then my very real deadlines come and go and they say absolutely nothing, so I have to nag them, and nag them, and then they turn it back on me with a “obviously you can see that I’m busy and you’re not paying me for this” when all they had to do was say “no I can’t help you” (two whole humans; we are not friends anymore).

The ability to be approached with a request for a favor, step back and think about it, and go “No, I don’t think I can do that in that time frame/at this moment I’m going through a lot/with the skill the task requires” is apparently ridiculously rare. I’d infinitely prefer a no upfront than a yes, bank on that yes, and then wait around hoping someone follows through.

Not saying anything is really rude. If you agree to X, the person who asked you is fully expecting you to do X. They shouldn’t have to be lining up backup plans and last minute helpers scrambling to do the job you promised would get done.

—

Not exaggerating when I say it happens in so many areas. I’ve needed very important things like recommendation letters, or actual paid beta readers on a very hard deadline and still scrambled at the last minute to find replacements that sometimes cost real money for rush fees. I’ve been left waiting at an event for an hour minimum only to finally receive a ‘hey I can’t come’ text and then go home. I’ve told people multiple times, “hey, if you’re going to do X, please do it like this and have some consideration for my things that you’re borrowing” and just… be ignored.

As somebody who gets whatever’s asked of me done immediately, no matter how busy I am, man is it hard to keep accepting “sorry I forgot” as an excuse, from multiple people, multiple times.

The nice thing, though, the big benefit of hyper-independence is that I have learned so many skills out of a compulsion to just do it myself instead of gambling with the accountability of another flighty human. Handyman things for my home and my car, but artistic things, too. So there’s that.

[visceravalentines]

this is a post scribbled angrily in glitter pen in my diary pls ignore <3

[sttoru]

𝝑𝑒 SYNOPSIS. sukuna is shameless—not caring if anyone were to ever catch him righteously claiming ownership over his favorite concubine in the garden.

wc. 1.5k-ish

tags. true form!sukuna x concubine!female reader. smut, pwp. exhibitionism. size difference. dumbification \\ objectification. has two c.ocks. hair pulling. use of spit (yeah ik i wouldnt write for it but its sukuna). breeding themes. overstimulation. reader gets called ‘little girl, slut’. sukuna’s a menace and loves to create drama between his concubines

“shut up. i don’t care if they’re here or not,” sukuna grunts, tightening his grip on your fleshy thighs as his lower cock slams in and out your sloppy cunt without much thought. the sound of pruning shears cutting off branches is easily overwhelmed by the lewd noises of skin slapping against skin.

you feel sorry for those servants who’re just doing their job tending to the garden. none of them dare to look your way. they’re sweating, eyes solely focused on the branches they’re cutting, acting like they are not hearing the sinful moans and grunts in the distance. if they look, they’re dead. that much is known.

everything is blurry to you. all you can manage to do is let out a string of pleasure filled whines. your body is easily overpowered and held up against the harsh wood of the nearby wall. your thighs are spread in an awfully painful way, your knees up to your chest. quite literally folded in half.

“i said eyes on me, y’ fuckin’ slut,” sukuna barks. he does not have the patience today. you breaking the intense eye contact with him only worsens his mood. one of his veiny hands tug at your hair. the others hold you up—not allowing you to even think of getting back on your feet until your tight cunt is done milking him for what he’s worth.

you gasp and sukuna takes the chance to grab your jaw with yet another free hand. “open y’r mouth,” his hips do not still for even a second. they roll and ground against yours, the surrounding skin near his pelvis stained with your wet juices. he could smell it. just as nasty and dirty as he wants it to be.

you part your lips and keep them like that, not wanting to piss sukuna off even more. he grins at the sight of your red tongue instinctively rolling out like the obedient little girl you are. he spits right into your mouth, “swallow.”

you do so without second thought. the warm liquid trickles down your throat. sukuna watches in satisfaction, drilling into you until your insides are complete mush. you’re drooling over yourself already—clearly having lost control over your rationality.

you sniffle and try to hold onto sukuna’s biceps. your small fingers curl around the shape of them, nails digging into his flesh. every time you think sukuna’s finally letting up, he only increases his inhuman pace. “my l-lord, ‘s too much,” you cry out. your body could only handle so much pleasure before it’d break down. your pussy is convulsing around his girthy cock, feeling his other sliding back and forth over your sensitive clit.

the king of curses shuts you up with a hiss. his bottom set of eyes is focused on the impressive scene of your tiny pussy swallowing his cock so easily. he’s feeling proud of the fact that he’s molded you into the perfect concubine for him and his carnal pleasure.

sukuna has fucked you silly enough times to know how to get you under his spell. his fingers brush over your hard nipples, grabbing the squishy flesh of your tits as they bounce with each of his thrusts. he leans his head down towards yours. his rough, raspy voice makes your body heat up, “no, no. it’s never too much for my little girl, right? she can easily take ‘nother load f’me.”

your breath hitches and sukuna realises it worked. he knows just what to say to manipulate you into giving in. so he can fuck you senseless for how long he wants. you’re a sucker for the fact that he calls you his. that’s what you are—you’re his woman. only his and no one else’s. the claim of ownership makes your pussy clench.

“y-yes, my lord. i can take another, i can,” you breathe out, head swaying from side to side, not mentally able anymore to keep up with sukuna’s intense libido. yet, your body is still active, squeezing around sukuna’s dick as he promised you more of his precious cum.

the king of curses snickers, amused by just how fast you gave in. “that’s what i thought, hah,” he’s realised that his hold on you knows no bounds. you’re his little toy. the only one he wants to ravish these days. and the only one worth of carrying his seed.

you’re still thinking about the way he’s called you ‘his little girl’. it’s driving you closer to the edge. you start to get louder, completely ignoring your inner thoughts that begged you to have some decorum; to try and hide the fact that you’re getting slutted out in the courtyard.

there’s not much hiding it anyway since the servants have a clear understanding of what’s going on behind them. “mghh, please—please need more!” you mewl and sukuna listens. his red eyes darken with desire as you get into it. he loves to experience that lust driven side of yours. a complete opposite to your usual formal and shy self.

“louder, c’mon. let them know i’m fucking you good,” sukuna sneers, enjoying the mind games he is playing with you. you’re too cockdrunk to even notice. the them in his sentence refers to his other concubines. he knows that you’re secretly craving to get revenge on them and show them just how well you get dicked down by him every single day.

unlike them, who rarely get graced by his touch. that is, when you’re unavailable.

you do as told and increase the volume of your erotic moans, letting everyone around the estate know what you’re getting up to. not like anyone could interfere. sukuna wouldn’t dare let them live a second after.

“that’s it, yeah,” the sorcerer grunts and rams his length repeatedly into you, cursing at the way you’re gripping him so tightly. you’re so dripping wet that he slips out of you for a second. he moves his hips, angling them better to slam back inside of you.

however, you’re one step ahead. your shaky hand reaches down between your legs and you quickly guide his tip to your entrance, urging him to push between your moist folds again. “nasty fuckin’ girl,” sukuna scoffs at your desperation, though secretly thrives off it. he switches cocks and shoves the upper one into your cunt.

you gasp. you’re so used to him to the point that you could sense the difference between his dicks. the upper one has more veins and is a tad bit girthier. you hiccup and nearly choke on your own moans and spit from the change of pace and dicks. “ngh, ‘tis so deep, my lord—” you whine loudly and your hands move to hold your breasts, stopping them from painfully jiggling around in every direction.

sukuna hums in content as he continues his rough thrusts. he can feel his balls twitch and clench, ready to shoot his sperm all up in your womb like you deserve. though, he doesn’t want to end this moment too quickly. he wants to extend it.

“c’mere,” sukuna grumbles and stops pounding your poor, aching cunt. he stills his dick inside you and allows you to cling onto his tall stature, lifting you away from the wall. he silently urges you to wrap your legs around his waist so he could carry you.

the robes of your kimono get left behind on the patch of grass near the wall of the main house. there’s a few droplets of white liquid that’s stained the grass, right where sukuna and you were standing at seconds ago.

you don’t think about anything anymore as you babble about how full you felt with his cock all the way in you. the fat tip brushes against your cervix with each step sukuna takes towards his next destination.

“keep talkin’ to me, doll. tell me how good it feels to take my cock,” he grins smugly as he carries your little body like a trophy into the main building—not paying mind to any maids who he passes by. they’re shocked by the sight of their lady in such a state, though are only able to bow at the two of you.

sukuna finally stops in front of the dinner table. the same table you always have dinner at with him and his other women. he places your back against the surface, big hands holding you down by your hips. “there we go,” he coos mockingly, seeing how you’re completely fucked out, yet still needing more of him.

the king of curses has his own twisted reasons of bringing you here. looking outside of the window, you notice how the sun is starting to set. that’s also the moment you realise his hidden motive.

the other concubines will sooner or later gather at the dining hall to eat supper. they’d expect a peaceful meal, though instead, they’ll be greeted by the sight of their dear lord screwing his favorite. it’ll be a painful blow to them.

which is exactly what the ruthless man wants to achieve.

sukuna licks his lips and all of his eyes focus on you solely, “gonna enjoy my dinner a bit earlier t’day, yeah?”

CR. STTORU 2024

[felinecyan]

Untouchable

[Katsuki Bakugo x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: When a classmate breaks a well-known rule within the dorm, you decide to take it upon yourself to “fix” the issue.

WC: 2863

Category: Mega Fluff, Kindhearted!Reader, Todoroki being an icon (like always 💅)

I don’t know about you guys, but writing for Bakugo is the single hardest thing I have ever done. He is SUCH a difficult character to get right 😭

I believe I did him justice, though 🙏🙏

『••✎••』

Kaminari had a death wish. That was the only logical explanation for why the electric blonde was currently in the common room with a shit-eating grin plastered to his face, along with a bowl of ramen that just so happened to belong to one Katsuki Bakugo.

Food was the one thing the explosive hero didn't joke around with, and the rest of Class 1-A was painfully aware of that fact. It was like a rule that had been ingrained into everyone's minds after spending any amount of time around the temperamental blonde.

Do not, under any circumstances, mess with Bakugo's food. Ever.

So the moment you had walked out of the kitchen and saw the familiar spice-infused soup in Kaminari's hands, you knew there was about to be a disaster. And that disaster was going to happen at the cost of the boy's life.

You were about to warn Kaminari when a familiar voice stopped you, its monotone quality giving away that it belonged to the heterochromatic hero. "Don't."

Todoroki shook his head at your concerned expression, a sigh leaving his lips. "It's not worth the effort; he'll learn the hard way. I would suggest standing back unless you want to get hit."

As if on cue, the sound of a bowl shattering against the floor echoed through the common room, and you flinched as bits of ramen and broth splattered your pants and shoes. You could only imagine what kind of mess it would have made if you had been standing any closer.

At the same time, Jiro sighed, plugging her ears as she muttered, "So much for getting some peace and quiet today."

Kaminari stood a few feet away from the mess, his entire body trembling in fear. He was too scared to move, frozen to the spot. His golden eyes were glued to the blonde standing before him, a murderous aura surrounding the ash-blonde.

"Bakugo, look, I can explain—"

The blonde's crimson eyes flashed in anger, and his face contorted into a feral snarl as he cut the electric user off. You couldn't stop the flinch that shook your body at the tone. "You... you..."

"It's just one bowl of ramen, dude! I'm sure you could easily make another one!" Kaminari exclaimed, waving his hands in front of his chest frantically. "I mean, come on, I know you love spicy food, but surely you're not that much of a monster that you'd kill me over it! Especially with something so mild as that!"

The room went silent, and Kaminari's words echoed in everyone's ears, but it only took Todoroki’s comment for the tension to change from fearful to downright chaotic.

"That was his last packet."

It was almost comical how fast the blood drained from Kaminari's face and how fast it returned a second later. The electric blonde gulped, a nervous laugh escaping him.

"B-Bakugo, listen—"

He was cut off again, this time by an explosion, which had been aimed right at his face. Thankfully, Bakugo missed on purpose, but the sound had been enough to startle everyone.

"You're so dead, Spark Plug!"

And thus began the chase, with Kaminari being chased around the room by an enraged Bakugo. Kaminari's screams of terror and Bakugo's threats and explosions filled the air, and everyone watched on in amusement.

Well, everyone except for Iida. He was chasing Bakugo, trying to calm the blonde down and yelling at him for using his quirk indoors, but his efforts were fruitless.

"Stop running around the room! You're going to destroy the furniture and break something!"

"I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU, DUNCE FACE! GET BACK HERE SO I CAN KICK YOUR ASS!"

Typical afternoon in the U.A. dorms.

After what felt like forever, the chaos eventually died down, with Bakugo calming down enough to sit and stew in his anger and Kaminari passing out from his quirk short-circuiting. You helped Iida clean up the mess that had been left behind, and everyone else returned to their activities.

But you felt bad for Bakugo. Yes, the blonde was a little intense and downright mean sometimes, but you knew what it felt like to crave something you didn't have. Especially when you physically buy that ‘something.' So, you decided to go out and get the angry Pomeranian a replacement packet.

Of course, given the fact that being empathetic was a common occurrence for you, the explosive hero wasn't at all surprised to see you walking toward the doors of the dorms with nothing but your wallet and a smile.

And he was not pleased.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?"

You stopped in your tracks, turning around to face the blonde, who had an unreadable expression on his face. Honestly, you were still shocked that he was still in his uniform, given he usually changes the moment he walks through the dorms. Not to mention, he even started wearing it properly, which was a feat in itself.

"Umm..."

"If you're about to say the damn store, I'll blow your ass to the moon," he threatened, and you couldn't help the frown that tugged at your lips.

"I'm just going to get you some more packets, okay? It's not a big deal," you said, your eyes softening. "I don't like seeing people upset, especially not over things that can easily be solved."

"Like hell, I'm upset!" He snapped, but the lack of bite in his voice gave him away.

You raised an eyebrow but kept your mouth shut. After knowing Bakugo for as long as you have, you've learned that the best way to deal with him is to keep your thoughts and opinions to yourself—at least, all thoughts and opinions about him.

"I'll be back in an hour, okay?" You said, offering him a kind smile. "Is there anything else you need?"

Something about the look in your eyes and the kindness in your voice was enough to make the blonde falter, his resolve slipping. He clicked his tongue and crossed his arms over his chest, a scowl on his face.

But, since he didn't respond, you figured that was all you were going to get from him. So, you turned back around and headed for the doors, intent on leaving.

You hadn't gotten very far, however, when the sound of the couch squeaking alerted you. You turned your head just in time to see Bakugo jump over the back of the sofa, his slacks making a thud sound as he landed, snatching his phone off the coffee table before he headed in your direction.

He grumbled something incoherent under his breath, causing you to tilt your head, but before you could say anything, your wrist was being grabbed, and the front door was opening.

"If we're gonna get the damn ramen, then I'm coming with. It's annoying when people come back with the wrong shit, so it's better to go myself."

"Oh," you hummed, not expecting him to follow you. You smiled up at him, and the scowl on his face deepened. "Well, alright, then. The more, the merrier."

Bakugo grunted in response, dropping his grip on your wrist so he could shove his hands into his pockets. "Just keep up, alright? I don't want to wait for your slow ass."

With that, the blonde walked out of the dorms, and you were quick to follow.

For those twenty minutes, you couldn’t help but be amazed at how quiet the walk to the store was. Normally, Bakugo was yelling at someone for one reason or another. Whether it was because they were stupid, slow, or a bunch of other reasons that seemed to only make sense in his head, he was never silent.

But, currently, it was different. Bakugo wasn't talking, or yelling, or grumbling, or doing any of the things he normally does. He wasn't even walking fast, keeping his pace slow just enough so you could keep up.

He didn’t have a scowl on his face, either. He wasn’t smiling, of course, which would actually terrify you if he was, but there also wasn’t a sign of irritation or anger on his face.

In fact, he was the most relaxed you had ever seen him, his muscles not as tense as usual, and his posture was straight, yet not rigid. And his crimson eyes seemed to have a hint of softness in them, something that you had never noticed before.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you hadn’t even realized that the two of you had arrived at the store until the ash-blonde had started walking through the automatic doors, not waiting for you to catch up.

Shaking your head, you hurried inside, quickly scanning the store for a sign that pointed to the aisle where the ramen packets were. Bakugo was a couple of feet ahead of you, with a look of indifference on his face as he followed the sign. However, he stopped once he reached the right aisle and turned around to look at you.

"Hurry it up, nerd," he growled, his impatience getting the better of him.

You rolled your eyes, a playful smile on your face. "I'm going, I'm going."

Bakugo didn't say anything as he turned back around and started walking through the aisles, and you were hot on his heels. Believe it or not, you were on a side mission, determined to not just grab the ramen for him.

He got distracted, and the two of you weren't in a hurry, so you went around and grabbed a few things that you knew your classmates had mentioned wanting. If you were going to take the time to go to the store, you might as well make it count.

After a few minutes, you ran into Bakugo, who had his arms full of different flavors of the ramen brand he liked. He took one singular glance at the contents of your basket and rolled his eyes.

"The hell are you getting all that shit for? I ain’t helping you carry anything."

"Well," you huffed, a pout on your face. He seemed to realize you were about to give him an entire speech because he immediately let out the most dramatic groan you had ever heard from him and began walking away.

You didn't care, though, and continued speaking, following him around the store.

"Well, I was just going to get the ramen and be done with it, but then I ran into Mina, who told me she was craving some 'chocolatey goodness,' which are her words, not mine," you explained, pulling out the package of chocolate-covered strawberries.

"Anyway, so, then I ran into Kirishima, who was complaining that there were no manly snacks in the pantry, and the last of his protein bars were eaten the other day, ironically also by Kaminari," you added, showing him the small box of protein bars. "So, I figured I'd get him some more and make sure Kaminari has his own snacks."

Bakugo groaned once more, still refusing to look at you. And, again, you ignored him and kept speaking.

"Also, Sero wanted more chips, and Koda was asking for some extra treats for the animals," you continued, showing him the chips and animal treats. "I didn't run into Midoriya, but he’s been awfully kind with his notes, so I'm pretty sure he would appreciate some gummies and pocky."

"Alright, I get it," Bakugo grumbled, a grimace on his face.

"Mineta also asked if I could grab him a new bag of limes, but I figured, after that little stunt he pulled in the changing room, that he doesn't deserve to have his gross habits indulged." You scoffed, trying to make a dramatic gesture but failing, given the items in your arms.

Bakugo paused in the middle of the aisle, turning around to finally face you, his arms still full. "You done?"

"Hey, you asked." You shrugged, a smile on your face. "I wasn't finished, though. Jiro wants more popcorn, Ojiro needs some more protein powder, Hagakure needs—"

"Is any of that shit even for you?" He cut you off, narrowing his eyes at you.

You pursed your lips and tilted your head. "No. Why?"

"You came all this way, wasting money on everyone else's crap, and didn't even think about grabbing shit for yourself?" He asked, his eyes narrowing further. "Are you stupid or something?"

"Um, well, no?" You answered although it came out as more of a question. "It's not a big deal. I was already going here, anyway."

Bakugo clicked his tongue, shaking his head. He walked forward and, without a word, dropped his armful of ramen onto your own. "Hold these."

Before you could protest, the ash-blonde walked past you and disappeared from view. Confused, you spun around and tried to follow him, but the sudden weight in your arms made it hard to move.

"Bakugo, wait up! I can't move!"

"Then stop moving, idiot." His voice was muffled by the shelves, and you couldn't tell where exactly he was. But, as if he had a sixth sense for things like this, Bakugo returned to the aisle, his arms full of random snack foods and drinks.

"What are you—"

"Shut up and follow me," he said, not letting you finish your sentence. You opened your mouth to speak, but a sharp glare from the blonde made you close it.

Bakugo led you through the aisles and dropped the items onto the conveyor belt, much to the surprise of the cashier. The young girl didn't dare comment on the large pile of utter junk food, however, and merely rang it all up, her eyes never leaving the screen.

Once the total came up, you pulled out your wallet to hand the girl the money, not wanting Bakugo to waste any of his own money on you, but the blonde snatched the bills from your fingers before you could pay.

"Hey, what—"

"I said, shut up." He clicked his tongue and turned away, his back facing you. You could hear the rustle of his pockets as he fished out his own wallet, and you were quick to shake your head.

"Bakugo, the whole point of me coming here was so I could pay. You were the one who got his last packet stolen, so I was supposed to be paying for the new one, and—"

"Do you ever shut the hell up?" Bakugo interrupted, his voice gruff. He didn't turn around to face you, but his tone was enough for you to shut up. "I don't give a shit about the money. It's my own damn fault for letting that dunce face near my food, anyway."

"But—"

"And it's not like I need the money," he added, pulling a couple of bills from his wallet and handing them to the cashier. "My parents are loaded. It's not a big deal."

Way to show off, Blasty.

But you knew better than to say that. Instead, you closed your mouth, your eyes softening. It didn't make sense to you, though, because not only was he buying his own replacement ramen, but he was also buying an abundance of junk food, which, while tasty, wasn't for him or you.

It's always about repaying the favor with him, but this was just... unnecessary.

"Thank you," you said instead, knowing that he would only get irritated if you kept protesting. "That was... unexpectedly nice of you."

"Don't make a big deal out of it," he grumbled, picking up a few of the bags. He handed them to you, and you struggled to balance the weight, but you didn't complain. "It was your fault for being too damn nice."

You blinked, not sure if you were supposed to take that as a compliment or an insult. Either way, you didn't say anything and merely nodded. Bakugo didn't spare you a second glance as he grabbed the rest of the bags and began walking toward the exit.

"You coming, or what?" He called out, not looking back at you.

A smile grew on your face, and despite him not even looking at you, something told you he could sense the happiness radiating from you. You hurried forward, struggling a bit to balance the bags in your arms and keep up with Mr. Grumps, but the smile didn't leave your face.

"So... does this mean we're friends now?"

"The hell? No!"

"I think we are, Blasty."

"Don't call me that." He narrowed his eyes at you, but you merely giggled.

"Would you rather it be Kacchan? Kaminari's been using that one a lot lately."

"Call me that, and I'll blast you into the fucking sun."

"Blasty it shall be, then."

Needless to say, the walk back to the dorms was the complete opposite of the walk to the store. But, just as the silence between the two of you was comfortable then, the bickering and teasing and overall playful nature of the conversation was comfortable now.

Bakugo would never admit it, and you knew better than to ask, but he didn't have a problem with the nickname or the new friendship that blossomed between the two of you.

And you didn't have a problem, either.

[jjunieworld]

THE RULES ˒˒ 최연준

you would think that by now you would know the rules, right? apparently not, since yeonjun always has to keep reminding you—whores don't get to cum.

pairing ‎⸝⸝⸝ choi yeonjun x fem!reader 𓄷 iηcℓudᥱs 𓈓 none!

genre﹙📓﹚⸝⸝⸝ pure smut, established relationship

warnings ‎⸝⸝⸝ unprotected sex (don’t!), heavy overstimulation, MEANN mean dom!yeonjun, rough sex, mentions of a blowjob, orgasm denial, free use and somnophilia (consensually!!), edging, teasing, degradation kink, petnames (baby, my love, good girl), name calling (whore, slut, cumslut, fuck toy), hair pulling, spanking, dacryphilia, creampie, manhandling, dirty talk

kipo’s note ‎⸝⸝⸝ wrote this while ovulating and i never needed yeonjun more in my entire life… this literally took a ridiculously long time to write, i’m sorry to those waiting lol i hope you enjoy!! all feedback and reblogs are welcome! ♡

∿ [ 4.3k ] ⋆ [ continue on to . . . masterlist ]

today was the best day of yeonjun’s life. in fact, he couldn’t think of a better way to be woken up—even if he was going to have to punish you for it.

what shocked him—and especially you—the most was how much you were able to do before his eyes cracked open. you had pulled the blankets off of him, pulled down his shorts and boxers, and had stroked and sucked his cock until it hardened. then, you slid onto it and began bouncing, the movement then waking him.

you looked so cute coming undone on top of him, breathy moans coming from your parted lips that were followed by low whines. it was cute how you thought you wouldn’t wake him. yeonjun’s hands slid up your bare thighs and to your hips, shocking you out of your sweet bliss.

yeonjun watched blearily as his cock disappeared and reappeared from inside your pretty, glistening pussy. his eyes trailed up the curve of your body and watched the way your tits bounced up and down. his eyes then landed on your face—which was previously thrown back, but now you stared down at him through furrowed eyebrows of slight horror. “s-sorry!” you choked out between heavy breaths as you didn’t bother to slow or stop. “needed you!”

a wicked smirk formed on yeonjun’s lips as he laid back onto his pillow and stared up at you. you knew you were in trouble, but the thought only made you wetter and pushed you to move faster. you savored the way your skin slapped against his and the wet sounds that came from where the two of you met. you knew that when the two of you had agreed on using each other whenever you’d like that there would still be rules. mainly rules for you to follow—rules that you were currently breaking.

yeonjun’s thumbs rubbed circles onto your hips as his grip tightened. “whatever my baby wants, she can get,” he cooed and then tutted. you heard the double meaning in his words and a shiver ran up your spine from it. punishment. you were going to be punished.

the last time you hadn’t followed the rules, yeonjun went easy on you—or, at least, that’s what he claimed. you weren’t allowed to touch him, or yourself. only he was allowed to do that—which he didn’t. for a whole month. once that month was over and you were so needy for him that you debated on tearing off his clothes and breaking even more rules, he finally gave you what you wanted. the long hours of your face pushed into a pillow as you were rammed into from behind, or being taken in various different positions that made you extremely sore until you could barely walk after was treacherous, but you had felt so good during it all so it was well worth it. that was your thought process now.

“will you be able to take it, my love?” yeonjun asked sweetly. his hand moved from your hip to between your thighs where his thumb instead rubbed circles into your aching clit. you gasped, hips bucking towards his hand as you moved up and down. you bit down hard on your bottom lip, eyebrows still furrowed as you nodded desperately. you didn’t care what the punishment was this time, all you needed was for him to start fucking you.

that was all the confirmation yeonjun needed as he sat up and wrapped an arm around your waist. in one swift motion you were on your back and he was on top of you. with the new position, you felt just how much yeonjun’s big cock stretched you out. that feeling only grew when he moved your legs to rest on his shoulder and he started pounding into you at a rough and fast pace.

you cried out, fingers gripping the bed sheets and eyes squeezing shut, as the knot in your stomach tightened and tightened until it was about to snap. “please, please, please,” you whimpered as your walls fluttered around him, “p-please let me cum.”

yeonjun stifled out a harsh laugh, “you thought it was gonna be this easy? i thought you knew this…” he tilted his head at you in faux pity and gave it a slight shake, “whores don’t get to cum.” tears fell from your eyes, not only from the immense pleasure you felt but also from his words. you shook your head rapidly and swallowed thickly.

“please…” you trailed off, looking up at yeonjun through blurred eyes. he just laughed and kissed you deeply, his tongue pushing past your lips. he pulled away from you just as you moved to wrap your arms around his neck, making you chase his lips.

“should’ve thought about that earlier. you wanted me to fuck you so bad, huh, slut? well, i’m gonna fuck your pretty little pussy until you don’t even have the words to beg to cum,” yeonjun said in a low voice with a smile. you had started to clench around his cock and he swiftly pulled out, leaving you empty and unsatisfied. he pumped his wet cock slowly over top of you as he looked down at you. the morning light from the open window shadowed him, making him appear almost holy in a demented way.

“such a pretty little slut, just couldn’t wait her turn… how pathetic,” yeonjun sighed as he slid back into you. he pushed your knees to your chest and fucked you agonizingly slowly. you bucked your hips up, walls fluttering around his thick cock only for him to pull out again with a cruel laugh.

“so fucking pathetic…” he laughed, hand coming to grip your chin as he roughly placed his lips against yours in a wet, open mouthed kiss. you whined against his lips, needing some friction—any friction from his body against yours.

yeonjun thought you looked the most beautiful when you were like this; completely needy for him with blown out pupils full of lust and cheeks streaked with tears. squirming underneath him desperate for any type of movement on his part—even if it was the light trail of his fingertips. it made the blood rush directly to his already hard cock. “fuck! you drive me fuckin’ insane,” he groaned out, looking down at you through half-lidded eyes.

he pushed into you again with shallow strokes, laughing when he had to press down onto your legs to keep you from moving. yeonjun pulled out again and you whined. you were so close to cumming but everytime you were right near the edge he would yank you back.

yeonjun grabbed your arms, pulling you into a sitting position before roughly pushing you so you were now on your stomach with your ass up in the air. you felt his hard cock against your ass and you shaked your hips a little against it. you then felt his fingers in your hair and the sharp burning sensation as he dragged you back towards him with it. “you’ll be a good girl and do everything jjunie says, right?” yeonjun asked you, nodding slightly.

he stared down into your eyes, your back arched to the point where it was almost uncomfortable so he got a good view of your face. his eyes were dark and you could practically see the lust swirling in them. yeonjun pressed his hips harder into your ass and his grip in your hair tightened when you didn’t answer him. “right?” he repeated, harsher.

through your labored breathing and the burning pain at your scalp, you nodded. yeonjun smiled, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead before releasing his grip of your hair. you fell face forward into the bedsheets and used your wobbling arms to push yourself back up, looking back at him. your arousal was dripping all over his cock that was currently pressed into your bare pussy. without thinking, you rocked your hips backwards, moaning at the brief sensation of your clit dragging against his length.

smack!

it took a moment to register the sharp pain to the flesh of your ass, and another to hear yeonjun’s tsking. “such a fucking whore, can’t even wait for me to stick my cock inside you before you’re rubbing up against it. i should just use you like the fuck toy you are and be done with it.”

you immediately shook your head rapidly, pleas falling from your mouth. “no, please! i’ll be good, promise!”

yeonjun sighed, amusement leaking into it. his hand found it’s way into your hair again and he pulled until your ass was pressing against him. “cute. if you’re good for me i might even let you cum today. you want that, don’t you, baby?”

you nodded again.

“good,” yeonjun started. you desperately wished you could turn to look at him once you felt the absence of his body against yours. the anticipation was eating you alive as you waited to find out what he was going to do to you. a shocked gasp left your parted lips as the entirety of his length was abruptly pushed into you, your wetness making the process easier.

yeonjun slowly pulled out of you until you felt just his tip at the base of your entrance before he slowly pushed back into you as he spoke, “i’m going to give you a pace to go at—and you better keep up with it. you got that? you’ll keep going without stopping until i fill you up and tell you to stop, okay, my pretty cumslut?”

you opened your mouth to protest. you knew his pace was going to be rough, it always was, and you knew you wouldn’t be able to keep up with it without cumming around him. you were already so close.

smack!

yeonjun’s free hand rubbed over the soft, burning skin of your ass, soothing it slightly as he roughly pulled you back to him. his breath fanned against your ear as he said harshly, “you. got. that?”

his hand then snaked between your thighs to rub circles into your neglected clit, slow strokes still teasing you. more tears fell from your eyes as you nodded. “y-yes,” you replied shakily, breath hitching as a moan ripped through you.

yeonjun backed away, gripping lessening and the circles at your clit ceasing. you breathed a sigh of relief too soon as then his hips snapped against yours at a rapid and unforgiving pace. you cried out, body giving out but being forced into the same position by your hair, as your fingers tightened around the sheets. yeonjun groaned behind you, not even bothering to mask his pleasure from all of this.

his hips stilled, breathing heavy. he rubbed the flesh of your sore ass, hand then resting there as a constant reminder. “like that, now be a good little slut and make me cum, yeah?”

you inhaled short breaths to try and fill your lungs, legs already starting to wobble underneath you. “t-too fast, jjunie!”

yeonjun’s hand on your ass kneaded at the flesh a little before smacking it again, hard. you let out a small whimper, back arching. “i don’t care. you said you’d do what i say, right? so start moving your pretty ass on my cock and make me fucking cum. isn’t this what you wanted when you decided to wake me, dirty slut? move, or it will get a lot worse for you from here. don’t you see i’m trying to be nice?”

gulping, you began to do as you were told. your pace was a lot slower than the one yeonjun set for you, but it was the best you could do. there was another harsh slap to your ass and burning at your scalp. you were now face to face with yeonjun. anger etched his features and you knew better than to open your mouth again. “faster,” he spit out.

your tears dripped down your neck as you tried to go faster. you body didn’t know whether to whimper from all of the overstimulation or moan from all of the pleasure as you fucked yourself on yeonjun’s cock. he ran his fingers through his hair in his face before leaning down to press a rough kiss to your lips. the sheer wet sounds that filled your shared bedroom edged you on along with you wanting to make yeonjun cum. you pushed yourself to go even faster.

your brows knitted together as your mouth fell open against yeonjun’s, loud moans being slightly muffled by his lips. yeonjun’s lips moved from your mouth to your salty wet cheeks and you felt his smirk against your skin. “that’s it, baby. f-fuck…” yeonjun moaned, “keep fucking yourself on my cock, you nasty whore. don’t you dare stop.”

yeonjun’s mouth fell near your ear and you heard his shameless moans and whines even louder. they just turned you on further and your hips bucked forward as you felt your walls flutter around his cock again. you whimpered and went to move your hand between your thighs to rub at your sore, swollen clit.

yeonjun yanked you back by your hair before your fingers could reach it. he laughed wryly in your ear, “you should fucking know better than to touch yourself right now. are you trying to make me angry?”

you cried out again from the pain and shook your head. you didn’t entirely believe yourself. the only thought running through your mind was how you wanted him to fuck you so hard you came instead of you pathetically fucking yourself on him while he watched. you wanted to see his expressions when he fucked into you and felt how good you made him feel, not the plain sheets of your bed. maybe you were trying to anger him.

your walls tightened around him and yeonjun cursed under his breath as he pulled away from you. “keep going,” he ordered.

you sniffled, the tears blurring your vision. surely he didn’t want you to keep moving with how close to cumming you were, right? not wanting to lose the opportunity to cum at all, you kept at your pace. you pleaded with him to let you stop, that you were so close, but they all fell on deaf ears.

you couldn’t take it anymore. your movements stilled and you looked at his distorted figure with pleading eyes. heavy labored breaths ripped from your chest and your body shook to the point that you could almost hear your bones rattle. “it’s too m-much, jjunie… can’t go f-further…”

yeonjun tutted. another loud smack was heard throughout the room.

“i’m not going to set the pace for you again.” yeonjun slammed into you. you yelped loudly, throat already feeling hoarse as you tried to pull your body away from his. he just pulled you back by your hair. the pain at your scalp was starting to become intolerable, but you felt so good. loud sputtering moans ripped from your chest as your eyes squeezed shut. “go fucking faster.”

yeonjun’s speech was clipped and you could tell that he was close. swallowing thickly, you dragged yourself along him again, babbling out apologies. you got as close to his pace as you could, whimpering each time you felt the tip of his cock press against your sweet spot. his lips were on yours in a heated and sloppy kiss.

his hand fell from your hair, giving you brief relief, as they trailed up your stomach and towards your bouncing tits. his touch left the skin underneath it ignited. he kneaded them, thumb rubbing your sensitive nipples as he kissed you deeper from the awkward angle you were at. you moaned against his mouth and he took the opportunity to trail a hand down your stomach while you were distracted.

you gasped loudly as his fingers rubbed hard circles into your clit again. on instinct, you moved from against his chest—wet pussy pulling off his hard cock in the process—at the jolt of lightning that strikes through your body. “p-please… please,” you begged. you begged for him to let you cum. for him to end this torment. he snuffed out your plea with another rough kiss.

yeonjun pressed down on your chest, pulling you back towards him and in turn, staking you directly back onto his big cock. he groaned loudly against your lips and you felt his warm cum spill into you and paint your walls white. he broke away from you, a trail of spit connecting your lips to his, before he roughly pushed you down towards the sheets. his big hands gripped tightly at your hips.

“since you don’t know how to fucking listen, fucking useless slut—“ yeonjun landed another hard smack on your ass and you flew forwards, another moan escaping your mouth. “and you don’t know how to follow simple directions…”

his words were raspy as he pushed them out through low grunts, hips pressed firmly to your ass so none of his cum spilled out. “moaning like a goddamn whore and you’re not even truly sorry about it…” he reeled his hips back and slammed into you, a loud squelching sound from his cum bouncing off the walls of your bedroom. “but you will be.”

you couldn’t help yourself as another loud pathetic moan poured out of you. you could practically feel your boyfriend’s smirk burning into the back of your head. yeonjun pulled out of you and you whined at the sudden loss, walls clenching around nothing. “get up and turn around,” he demanded.

yeonjun laid down onto the bed, tapping his thigh twice, and you climbed over him. he lined his cock with your entrance with a smile at how his cum dripped out of you and down his length before grabbing your hips. you slid down the rest of it with a small broken gasp, yeonjun groaning beneath you. he then moved his arms behind his head, looking up at you expectantly with a tilted head. you realized too late that he just put you in the position you woke him up with.

“bounce on it.”

your eyes widened and slowly you started to shake your head, trembling legs squeezing around his thighs. you could barely sit up—let alone bounce on his cock. heat crept up your neck. “jjunie, please—“

“you want to cum, yes?” he mused and you nodded gingerly. “you wanted to cum so bad, pathetically getting yourself off with my cock, yet now you’re shy?”—his lips pushed into a pout, one full just as much mockery as his tone of voice—“put that pretty cunt to good use then and be lucky my cock isn’t down your fuckin’ throat right now, baby.”

“but—“

“bounce on it. i’m not touching you.” he made himself more comfortable, arms still behind his head as he watched you intently.

shakily, you lifted yourself up on wobbly knees and dropped back down onto yeonjun’s cock. you screwed your eyes shut as you whimpered. you lifted yourself up again and dropped back down, skin slapping harshly against his. you were breathing heavily and the shaking all throughout your body only seemed to worsen. you heard your boyfriend snicker. “surely you can do better than that,” yeonjun deadpanned.

gulping as more tears formed in your eyes, you lifted your hips again and dropped back down. yeonjun sighed, grabbing your hips roughly as he fucked up into you. you cried out, briefly falling over before one of yeonjun’s hands pushed you back and you had no choice but to catch yourself on your hands. your chest heaved at the sudden switch in angle and you cried out once more, tits bouncing from his thrusts.

yeonjun stilled, hard cock still buried inside your weeping cunt, as he returned his arms back behind his head. “bounce.”

pushing yourself flat onto your feet, your body shook tremendously. with great effort, you used the last of your fleeting strength to lift your hips up and down. slowly, you dragged yourself across the length of yeonjun’s cock, eyes downcast to avoid his—no doubt—annoyed stare. “look at me,” you heard him say and the heat spread across your cheeks, embarrassment flooding you.

you dragged your eyes upward from his toned abs. yeonjun annoyance was clear on his face, features twisted in a borderline glare as his brows furrowed together. god, you felt yourself get even wetter—if it was even possible. he is just so goddamn hot when he’s pissed off.

“how the fuck am i suppose to get off to this? go faster.”

you babbled more apologies while nodding your head, but he wasn’t having any of it. you weren’t that sorry anyways. you secretly hoped that he would show you more pity and instead fuck you himself. “don’t be sorry, go faster. you’re pissing me off.”

you struggled out a breath and moved your hips again, legs shaking and hips bucking slightly as you tried to increase the pace but couldn’t. you were so close, so-so close. you dropped back down onto his cock, falling down onto his chest.

“alright,” you heard yeonjun mumble lowly next to your ear. you winced in pain, sharp cry leaving your lips from the sudden pain at your sore scalp. yeonjun pulled you back by your hair and sat the two of you up.

in the blink of an eye, you were pushed on your back—knees pressed tightly to your chest in a mating press as yeonjun railed into you. you begged for him to slow down through broken sobs but all he did was hiss out a cruel “shut up and fucking take it, desperate slut. you wanted me to fuck you like this, so i am.”

shrill moans left your mouth and you clawed at yeonjun’s back as your eyes rolled back from the pleasure. he was fucking you so deep that you saw stars, and he was right—it was exactly what you wanted. words died in your throat and your brows knitted together as the rope tightened in your stomach. you clenched down hard onto yeonjun’s cock and he moaned, head falling into the crook of your neck briefly, warm breath tickling your collarbone. “f-fuck! squeezing me so damn tight…”

wet noises and loud moans bounced off the walls, filling your ears and making you more aroused. yeonjun’s thrusts staggered and he dragged out, “fuck, baby…”

he pressed deep into you as his warm, white ropes of cum filled you to the brim once again. you whimpered, desperate to cum yourself. yeonjun’s head was thrown back, eyes rolled back and mouth wide open as the last bit of cum dripped out of him and into your cunt. he moaned, eyes opening to look down at you before leaning down to kiss you sloppily. he started to fuck into you again, rough and hard. you could feel his cum dripping from out of you at the process with its lewd noises.

you whimpered again loudly, kissing him back with desperation as tears wet your cheeks. “shut the fuck up,” yeonjun said against your lips. he pulled away from you and took his still hard cock out. you resisted the urge to whine as he pushed himself off of you and moved to the edge of the bed.

you laid on the bed alone, mind completely blank besides the want to finally be able to cum yourself. your body shook with a passion and you were filled to the brim and sticky with yeonjun’s cum. your poor, aching and abused pussy throbbed from both pain and pleasure and your scalp was on fire. still, you wouldn’t have it any other way. you’d do it all again in a heartbeat.

yeonjun returned, clothes on properly as he sat on the end of the bed and looked back at you. “c’mere,” he spoke, words soft like cotton. you didn’t think you could move, but you willed yourself to get up on your wobbly knees to crawl the short distance towards him. he bent you across his lap and landed a hard slap against your ass. you almost forgot about the soreness with how overstimulated your body was.

you reeled forward, a half shocked gasp and loud whine parting from your lips. yeonjun’s hand smoothed over your ass and parted your legs slightly so he could rub at your swollen clit. you inhaled sharply as you squirmed around in his lap but had nowhere to go with his other hand pressed firmly against your waist. “you act like a fuckin’ whore again and i’ll not only ruin your pretty little pussy—“ he leaned in next to your ear “—i’ll ruin that pretty face of yours too.”

yeonjun slapped your ass hard again, hand still sliding across your clit from the slick of his cum, as he laughed at your squirming. you breathed a heavy sigh of relief when he finally stopped and released you. “go clean yourself up, i’m not done with you yet.”

again, you willed yourself to move as you climbed weakly out of his lap. pain shot up for legs as you stood and it only got worse with each step you struggled to take towards the bathroom. you were almost halfway there when yeonjun called your name and you looked back at him.

his eyes trailed up your pathetically shaking body with a smug smirk, still sat in his same spot as before but with his arms crossed against his chest. “get ready to wrap that dirty mouth around my cock, baby.” he made eye contact with you, “and if you’re a good girl, i’ll finally let you cum.”

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[rueclfer]

Fake Dating // Bakugou

a/n: hi all, i am back from the dead with this shit that took me DAYS to finish bc my brain is def not used to writing anymore. pls enjoy and maybe keep a look out for PART 2 if people want it !

You stare at your phone in disbelief. The audacity he had to tell you where to go, how to dress, and to essentially perform in front of everyone for him. Of course this was a mutually beneficial agreement, but at least you only dragged him along to your family functions sparingly.

You two had come to this agreement early last Winter when family members kept pestering you about potentially finding a love interest at your new University, and for him when he couldn't shake off all of the romantic confessions from the students in the other classes.

No one else knew about your arrangement. What made it so much more unbearable was the fact that you shared the same cohort and friend group, so it was a constant facade whenever you're in each other's presence with the others around.

You felt a bit awkward coming to the party alone, and a few hours late. You could hear the bass thumping through the door from the front yard, and from the looks of it, there were far more people than you expected, but on the bright side, it'll be easier to be invisible within the crowd than have to hold up this facade all night.

You approached the front to see Jirou catching a breath of fresh air. She had a drink in one hand and her other interlocked with Momo's

"Are you guys already tapping out?" You asked, taking the steps up the porch.

"Y/N!! For a second I thought you weren't going to make it!" Jirou says, releasing Momo from her grasp and giving you a big hug. "I'm so happy you're here."

"Can't blame me for always being fashionably late” You embrace her back.

"Better now than never." She drunkenly chuckles “Bakugo’s been a moody bitch all night please go contain him”

“Are we surprised?” You roll your eyes and laugh. “Where are you two off to?”

"I'm gonna take Momo out for some air and to maybe vomit, but go inside and I'll find you later!"

“I love you Y/N!! Take a shot for me!!” Momo slurs and blows you a kiss as Jirou drags her away.

"I love you too, Mo! I'll catch you guys inside."

Once you stepped foot inside, it felt like the air from your lungs were instantly replaced with the thick fog of weed and cigarette smoke. It was suffocating, but all too familiar at the same time. You recognized many of the faces around from campus, but none of which were your close friends.

Before anything else, you decided to stop by the kitchen to pour yourself something to drink. To be honest, you weren't picky with your liquor. As long as it did its job, you weren't going to complain. You grabbed a red solo cup off of the stack and poured in a shot and some change worth of cheap vodka.

Mina has to have some red bull somewhere around here…

You quickly down it and refill another cup to carry around while you look for your ball and chain, Katsuki. You wander around the crowd for a few moments, waiting for someone you knew to catch your attention, but no one did. You decide to take a break to lean against a wall and to send Katsuki a text to see where he was hiding. Before you could even get your phone unlocked, you received a notification from him.

After he sent the last message, you looked up and searched for his meeting eyes. He said he was looking right at you, but for some reason you couldn't find those fiery eyes.

“Looking for someone?” A low voice breaks you from your search.

You turn to see Katsuki leaning up against the wall right beside you, almost shoulder to shoulder.

“Hmmm yeah I am, actually. Have you seen my boyfriend?” You turn to him fully. “He’s tall, messy blonde hair, kind of has a stupid look to his face, really hot though, trust me, and also like a medium build?”

You catch a glimpse of the smallest smirk on his face.

“Yeah? Well I’ll be sure to keep a lookout for him. In the meantime though, can you keep an eye out for my girlfriend? Angel faced, toothy smile, obnoxious ass laugh though, like if you hear honking, it's probably them.” He retaliates.

You both stare at each other in silence before you break character and playfully punch him in the arm. “Shut up, idiot. I don't honk.”

“You do. Like a goose.”

"You're so good at this flirting thing, Katsuki. Keep it up." You say sarcastically.

"It is my job, after all."

He stealthily wraps his arms around your shoulder, bringing himself in closer to you. He damn near was caging you in against the wall, blocking out the rest of the party with his back.

“So what's the game plan for tonight?” You peered up at his towering figure.

“Hang out for a couple hours, do all that lovey bullshit and then I’ll take you home. Don't get too messy tonight either. I’m not trying to babysit.”

“Worry about yourself, lightweight.” You roll your eyes.

“And is this straight vodka?" He looks into your cup with disgust. "Are you mentally ill?"

“I couldn't find the red bull.” You shrug.

“So it's either that or straight vodka?”

“Yeah and? You have a problem with that?”

“Yeah I actually do. It's fucking insan-” He starts.

“Bakugou!” A voice interrupts behind him. “There you are!”

You two lock eyes for a brief second. Just when you were actually starting to enjoy yourself with annoying Katsuki, you remember that you were only here for one reason. Katsuki's jaw clenched as he turned over to lean back against the wall beside you.

“Oh. Y/N you’re here too.” They say in a deflated tone. “I was just wondering if you could give us a second to chat?” They bat their eyelashes.

“I'm not in the mood to chat.” He says, pulling you closer by the waist.

“We’re actually about to go meet up with the others. Catch him next time.” You smile sweetly, interlocking your fingers with his and dragging him towards the backyard.

To your surprise, your friends were actually all there surrounding the firepit.

Denki was the first to spot you. He gasps and jumps up from his seat.

"You're here!" He nearly trips over his own feet trying to get over to you. He pulls you in a big hug, sweeping you off your feet. "Oh my god Y/N I missed you so much I could cry right now."

He was clearly a drink or two over his limit. His cheeks were bright red and he was already starting to sweat through his shirt.

“I missed you too, Denks.” You let yourself get twirled around by him.

“Finally you're back, I’m tired of holding onto your nasty drink.” Kirishima says, passing a red solo cup to Katsuki once he sat down.

You tried to take the empty seat next to him, but he immediately grabbed your wrist to pull you to share his chair. Your eyes widen at his own, as if you could telepathically curse him out. You clench your jaw as you feel a hot flash across your face.

“It’s cold. Stay close.” He simply says.

You nervously chuckle. “There's a fire right there, babe.”

“Do it for me then.” He smirks.

You silently groan to yourself as you lean back into his chest in defeat. Luckily, the chair had enough width to allow you to not have to fully sit on his lap, moreso just a leg slung over his own.

“Try this.” He lifts the solo cup to your lips.

You peer down at the dark red liquid in his cup. The smell burnt your nose. You shot him a weary glance before you downed his concoction, having to pinch your nose right after to subdue the burn. The shock of spicy and tangy residue left your throat burning with every inhale.

"What the fuck is that?" You choke out, continuing to pinch your nose.

"Fireball, lemon juice, and OJ." He smiled mischievously. "Thoughts?"

"The nerve you have to comment on my drink after sipping on this bullshit all night? It tastes like piss.”

He shrugs, wearing a lazy smile as he grips the softness of your inner thigh, with his other arm wrapped around your shoulder, fiddling with a lock of your hair.

You were internally screaming. Usually, there would be a hand holding or an arm around the waist or shoulder, but he was never this touchy whenever you had to act like a couple in front of your friends or even in front of the people trying to get at him.

You look around the firepit to see that all of your friends were in loud conversation with one another- laughing, arguing, and definitely not paying you two any attention.

“What are you doing?” You say low enough that only he could hear. “You're like, all up in my shit."

“5 o’clock, babe.” He simply says.

You slightly turn your head to your right to see the person from earlier, trying to not-so-obviously stare at you both.

“Tryna give them a show or something? You roll your eyes.

“Only if you'd let me.” He whispers.

You felt a chill crawl up your spine. God he's being gross. But you liked it. When you first made your little arrangement, you swore to yourself to not to catch any type of feelings for him, but the more time you spent charading around as a couple, the deeper you fell into this infatuation despite how hard you fought against it or played it off as a part of the bit.

“Don’t kill me, okay?” You whisper, meeting his eyes and forcing a smile.

You turned your head to fullyface his own and leaned in. Both of you were caught by surprise- his eyes widening right before you made contact. You two had never crossed this line before, let alone talked about it. It was only ever the unspoken rule of “don't catch feelings” and “no couple shit when we’re alone.”

His lips were soft and swollen as if he spent the last hour biting down on them. Once your lips crashed into his, it felt like your stomach was turning inside out, and a fire lit within.

It's fine, it's for show. It’s fine, you agreed to this. It’s fine, it’s not real.

You were fucked. You hated him, but you liked him. Maybe it was more than like. Maybe like isn't even the right word at all, but all you knew was that you needed to stop and take a second to reevaluate what you were doing with Katsuki.

In reality, the kiss lasted no more than 10 seconds, but it felt like you had fallen into the fire pit and laid in it for hours. Your body was on fire.

Once you broke away, you two stared at each other blankly, blinking away the realization of what had just happened. You didn't know whether to laugh and slap him on the shoulder, or start crying.

“I-I'm gonna go get another drink!” You suddenly exclaim, getting up and leaving him in his chair.

I'm so FUCKED.

You quickly snake your way through the large crowd that had filtered their way to the backyard. You stop by the kitchen to pour yourself a heaping cup of whatever liquor bottle was closest to you, down a large gulp, and take the rest with you to the bathroom.

Your head was starting to feel a bit hazy from the mix of second hand smoke as well as your drinks from earlier starting to settle in your stomach. Did you even eat anything before drinking like this? You weren't really expecting to have anything more than one drink, but after your kiss with Katsuki, you suddenly feel the need to forget it all.

You were sitting up against the bathtub, wallowing in your complicated mass of feelings, and now fully intoxicated. You let your head rest on top of your knees while you replayed every single interaction you've had with him tonight.

Your phone started buzzing on the floor next to you. You opened the screen, eyes squinting to adjust to the brightness.

Of course it was Katsuki.

You sat and stared at your feet for a few minutes until you heard pounding on the door. Judging from the force of it, it was either a fucking SWAT team or Katsuki.

You grab a hold of the side of the bathtub to hoist yourself up, stumbling a bit while doing so and unlocked the door. Of course behind it was the latter.

He lets himself in and shuts the door behind him, leaning back on it.

You were wildly embarrassed for a multitude of things. You were on the verge of messy drunk, your face was stupidly hot and flushed, you kissed your fake boyfriend and ran away, you're swallowing down your feelings, and now here he is to reprimand you for all of it.

"Water as per requested." He pops open the cap of a fresh water bottle and hands it over to you.

"Thanks." You mutter and drink the water in silence.

"So are you upset at me?" He finally asks.

"Yes."

"And why is that?" He cocks his head to the side.

You were drunk, no doubt about it, but this unserious playful tone in his voice that pissed you off was clear as day. Why were you the only one freaking out? Did he not care? It surely confirmed that he does not and never have felt the same as you and truly did think of your "relationship" as nothing more but a transaction.

You purse your lips and remained silent.

"Because... you kissed me?"

You nodded.

"So you're upset at ME... because YOU kissed ME..." He states once more.

You were on the verge of tears. He loved making you look stupid but this was tenfold now. Not that he was wrong, but you weren't in the mood for it.

"So what if I am?" You choke out, tears now brimming over.

Katsuki's eyes widened, clearly not expecting you to break down so easily after a couple of harmless questions. You steps towards you and grabs your shoulders, not quite sure what to do or how to react.

"Hey hey hey, what the fuck? Why are you crying all of the sudden? Seriously, Y/N it's not a big deal."

"It is." You whine. "It is and you don't even care!"

He finally pulls you into him, letting you sob into his shoulder. His hand caressing your back in comfort.

"You idiot." He says after a moment of silence. "You're such an emotional drunk. This is why I told you not to get messy." He scolds. "I do care. But I won't if you don't want me to."

"I do want you to care. I want you to like me. Not just like me, but like-like me." You confess.

You feel him stiffen under you. Clearly your drunken state had forced you to say the wrong thing, but you didn't care.

"But do you like-like me?" He asked back, pulling you back to look at your tear stained face. "Drink some more water and sober up a bit before you answer okay?" He brings the water up to your face.

"I don't want anymore water!" You push his hand away. "I like-like you and I hate being your fake girlfriend and lying to everyone and myself about it!"

His smile grew, but he shook his head. "Okay angel face, let's talk about it then." He moves his thumb up to your cheek to wipe away stray tears.

"You're so wasted, you may not even remember this for tomorrow. But I think you're the coolest person on this fucking block, okay? And I like being around you even though you annoy the shit out of me sometimes. So stop crying and feeling bad. We're fine."

"But we're not! I don't want you to be my fake boyfriend anymore. I think you're cool too and you make me laugh and feel stupid in the heart and I fucking hate you for that, so that's why we shouldn't do any of this anymore."

He doesn't reply, but instead looks down at your sad face, lip still quivering, makeup smudged around your eyes. His hand continued to cup you cheek, forcing you to look back up at him.

Katsuki leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead, letting it linger for a second longer.

"That's okay. We can do something about that when you're sober. If you even remember any of this, anyways. Let's get you home."

He grabs your hand and swiftly leads you out of the bathroom. You wonder what you had just done, whether it was going to blow up in your face (if you even remember the next day) or work itself out? Would it even matter?

[writer-logbook]

How to improve your writing style : a 5-steps guide.

Intro : I love the 5-steps format, don’t mind me. Again, this essay is based on my personal experience.

Read in different genres. Ok, I know you’ve probably heard this advice more than you can count but did you ask yourself why it is so important ? You probably wonder ‘‘How reading some historical fiction will help me writing my sci-fi novel ?’’ For that simple reason my friend : they meet different purposes. You don’t know how to describe a castle ? It’s okay, historical fiction got your back. Because it aims at something more realistic and accurate, it would tend to be more specific and detailed when it comes to describing clothes, furniture, places and so on. Why ? Because, most of the time, THEY ACTUALLY EXISTED. Take a closer look at how it is done and draw your inspiration from it (but please avoid plagiarism it’s bad - and illegal)

Take notes and CLASSIFY them. To make reading somehow useful, you have to actually make it concious, which means you have to write things down to remember them. When I come across a description I like, I tend to takes notes of the figures of speech that are used and class them, so when I have to write a similar scene, I have an idea of what have been already used, and weither or not it achieved its goal. I am NOT talking about COPY another author’s style !!!! It’s about finding inspiration and new approaches. I also tend to take notes of the new words I wish to incoporate into my writing. The thesaurus is my new bestie.

Rewrite the same scene from different POVs. First of all, it’s fun. And it’s a really good way to spot quirky formulations. For instance, if you describe a ship, the captain’s POV should be different from that of a simple observer. The first one would be naming each part princisely whereas the other would only be admiring the surface without knowing anything. If the caption is the same for both POVs, maybe you should consider write your passage again (or have a good reason, like a strong amateurism for the mere observer). It’s go hand in hand with coherence - but it would be an essay for another time (maybe).

Read your text aloud. I put major emphasis on that one because it’s as underated as reading books for various genres. You have no idea how much we DON’T speak the way we write. Even dialogues are crafted in our stories - so make sure to give them proper attention. (i even read my email aloud but-). I KNOW how cringey it might be as I am doing it MYSELF but the benefits are worth the 35-minutes shame I endure from my own mess. Before you can shine, you have to polish (shout out to the one who said that first if it’s not me).

Take a step back. I strongly advice you to let some time pass before reading your text again and profreading it. It will cast a new light upon your work and with fresh eyes you’d be more likely able to spot what needs to be erased or rephrased.

That’s all for me today. Since I would be entering my proofreading phase for my writing contest, the next essay would probably about proofreading (with examples from my own novel ?). Unless someone wants me to write on a specific subject first.

Gentle reminder that I’m still French and not a native so please forgive my dubious grammar and outrageous mispellings.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Sanemi losing what is left of his patience when you get injured by a demon

Pairing: Sanemi x wife!reader

Word Count: 3k

Synopsis: Despite the fact that your husband is the opposite of your quiet and kind self, you love him dearly while Sanemi treasures you in a purely unique way. But even though you learned to love his rough side the way it is, you can't stop tears from falling when your husband loses it after you get injured by a demon

Warning: this is THE angst to fluff y'all, Sanemi is a rough but soft boi I'm so weak for him in this fic omgomgomg, been listeing to again by noah cyrus and lana del rey while writing this, injury + angst + near death experience

this might be my favorite sanemi fic coming from my own hands so PLEASE if you feel the same, I'm super thankful for a lil like, comment or even reblog. THANK YOU SO MUCH 🤍

Oh, it was never easy, being the wife to none other than the wind hashira. When you’re quiet he’s noisy, when you’re put together he’s all over the place, while you act loving and kind Sanemi shows his devilish side.

But there was not once a day that made you second-guess your decision, not a single moment that made you feel something apart from deep affection for that man. It doesn’t matter that you are the opposite of him in each and every sense. He’s yours. And you’ll forever be his.

“Sanemi!”

Your oh so sweet voice echoes like a well-composed melody through his ears, makes him forget the wave of anger that washed over him earlier. Just seeing you standing there in the yukata he gifted you years ago while holding a dish with ohagi in your hands allows him to forget all the shit that happened for a brief second.

“Didn’t I tell you that you aren’t allowed to overwork yourself?”, he grumbles before sitting down opposite of you.

You look as good as always with your hair well-brushed and kind eyes lit by the down-going sun. What would his life look like if it didn’t contain of coming home to you? You, his only ray of sunshine. You, the only one who’s able to calm his temper down. Just you, his beloved wife. Who would have thought that out of all hashira, he’d be the one who treasures his wife the most?

“It’s not me who is overworked, but you. Did you get bruised again?”, you question with your melodic voice.

“Nah, I’m fine.”

“Will you stay home tonight?”

“I definitely hope so. If that crow disturbs my sleep again…”

“You have an important roll to fulfil, as a hashira-“

“’It’s my honor to bring peace to those who aren’t able to look out for themselves.’ Yeah, I already know.”

In contrary to his harsh tone, his fingertips caress your cheek gently while his eyes soften in an instant. It was hard, learning how to read him. When you first met, it was not uncommon that you broke out in tears after he talked to you like that. But now, after 4 years of getting to know him, you never lose your kind smile.

“How was your day?”, he continues.

With a swift motion, he pulls you between his legs and presses your head against his bare chest while his strong arms keep you in place. This are the moments that make your life worth living. Just you and your husband, arm in arm, watching the sunset in nothing but peace and silence.

“I enjoyed the nice weather while taking care of the garden. The tulips look exceptionally beautiful this season.”

“They’ll never be as beautiful as you, though”, he replies with low voice.

If life could stay like that. Oh, what you’d give to never let go of him again…

-later that night-

“Wind pillar, wind pillar! An emergency occurred! Countless demons were spotted nearby! The demon slayer corps need your assistance-“

“Can you just shut the fuck up”, Sanemi mumbles while pulling you closer sleep-drunken.

Immediately, you are wide awake. Nearby demons?

“Sanemi, you need to get up. What if someone gets injured?”, you whisper into the dark night.

“So what?”

You stare at him through the veil of darkness, not daring to say another word. He will get up eventually. He always does.

“Urgh, fine…Time to kill some demons, then”, he finally grumbles and drags himself away from you in order to put on his uniform.

“You stay here until I get back. Even if our estate is build pretty safe and I’ll rip off the heads of the demons around first, I don’t want you to be out there on your own. Got it?”, he instructs you before placing a gentle kiss on your forehead like he always does.

“I will. Please be careful and watch out for yourself”, you whimper.

It’s a challenge to let go of him each and every night he is forced to leave. He might be a hashira, but what if he doesn’t return by sunrise some day? What if he meets an upper-ranked demon unexpectedly? Just when he’s about to leave, you grab his hand one last time.

“And don’t act reckless”, you add.

No matter how much it hurts to let go of his hand, you know you have no other choice. This is the life you chose, the price you have to pay in order to call that wonderful man your beloved husband.

“I can never promise you that”, he replies before leaving you alone in the now cold and awkwardly dark room.

Everything will turn out alright. It just has to…

You don’t know how long you’ve been awake already. Minutes? Hours? All you’re able to do is stare at the ceiling above, ears perking up with every minor movement of the trees outside. Surely, Sanemi will return soon. Being the skilled fighter he is, it normally takes him at most two hours until he returns with his sheets still a little warm. But aren’t those two hours over already?

Another noise outside catches your attention. Is it a tree again? You furrow your eyebrows, immediately sitting up straight while staring outside the window. No, this almost sounds like the whimpers of a child. A child outside at this hour?

You swallow hard. A child outside when there are demons reported around this area?

“P-please, someone help me! I-I’m so s-scared!”

Your heart drops to the floor. There is no doubt in the fact that this has to be a child. Your mind starts racing back and forth. It would be absolutely unacceptable to leave that poor soul out on its own, especially when you can’t know if the area is really free of demons. But on the other hand…You bite your lip when your husband’s words replay themselves in your head.

“No matter what happens when I’m gone. Don’t. Go. Out. On. Your. Own. At. Night. Need me to spell it, (y/n)? Never ever, not in a million years. Got it?”

Not under any circumstances. Your husband made that very clear countless times. But does that include a helpless child outside your estate in the middle of the night? You aren’t a fighter like Sanemi is, even refused to keep an emergency katana in the house just in case. There is no way you could harm a single soul, not even a demon. Leaving a child outside in the middle of the night…isn’t that just as unforgivable?

Sanemi said that he’ll take care of the demons around first. That means you’re safe, right? But even if that poor child doesn’t face danger in the form of a demon, it will certainly freeze with that cold breeze rushing over the land these days.

“P-please, is someone there? I’m s-so tired and s-so cold…I…I can’t walk anymore…”

Your heart aches with every word. No matter how much value the promise you made towards your husband holds in your heart, you simply can’t stand the thought of ignoring an innocent little child that needs your help.

“Why are you out there all on your own, where are your parents?”, you shout into the darkness of your home while making your way to the door.

Is it really okay, breaking the promise you’ve made like that? You grab the handle of the door tightly. This might be the only time you’re actually useful. Without any skills apart from cooking, you can only watch from the side-lines how the demon slayer corps save the world. Maybe this is your chance to do a little something as well, your chance to actually be helpful.

You swing your door open while holding your breath.

“Where are you? Let’s get you inside and grab a warm tea, okay? You must be freezing”, you speak out gently, eyes scanning the garden for the little figure.

“I’m right here!”, the innocent voice cries out to your right.

Instantly, you pick up your pace and sprint towards the tiny figure lying in the grass. Oh no, you can’t imagine what this little child has been through, how it even got here. Did it get lost in the woods and failed to return before the night came? You’ll have to prepare a guestroom right away, just after inviting this little one in-

“Foolish woman.”

Time stands still, your glossy orbs starts to tremble when the tiny figure in front of you starts to build itself up, grows taller and taller until it surpasses your own height by multiple inches. This…this isn’t a child.

Your eyes widen in sheer horror, blood rushing through your ears so violently that you feel like fainting any given minute after it strucks you like lighting.

You were tricked by a demon. After Sanemi warned you over and over, you fell for the lousy trick of a demon. Out of instinct you start stumbling backwards, glossy eyes darted towards the horrific creature with bright red eyes and fangs bigger than your own head.

“I waited patiently until that demon slayer was gone. A young and beautiful woman like you sure tastes nice. Now that I’m seeing you fully, you were definitely worth the wait. I’m sure your flesh tastes excellent.”

Your blood freezes in your veins. Is this really how your life will come to an end? Because you didn’t listen to your husband, because you wanted to be somehow useful? How will Sanemi react, finding out that you were killed? Suddenly your legs threaten to give in and force you to come to a stand. It’s not like you’d be able to defend yourself in any kind of way when all you ever did was taking care of Sanemi and your imaginary perfect life.

A perfect life, ruined by one night of carelessness.

His face flashes in front of your inner eyes, the kind smile he always wore when he didn’t know you were watching. Despite the flaws others see in him, his hot temper and the way he treats his little brother, you are head over heels for him. Your husband, your everything, your Sanemi. A perfect little marriage, ruined by you.

“Don’t”, you hush into the night like the fool you’re are.

“How much I love hearing you little women beg not to get killed. Music in my ears!”

He dashes towards, ready to slice your throat open single-handed. Out of instinct, you let yourself fall backwards into the wet grass, watching how his claws brush over your forehead with enough force to discolour your vision red.

“Nice moves. You seem really healthy. That’s actually even better”, the demon purrs.

This is it. Your final moment on this earth, killed through the hands of a demon in your own well-groomed garden. You never imagined it all to go down like this, not when you’re still so young and full of love.

You didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye, to tell Sanemi one final time how much you adore him and that you’ll love him through everything. Will he be okay? The man who lost almost everything, who has to live with a burden heavier than earth itself balanced on his strong shoulders. This…this will break him even more.

“Any last words?”, the demon jeers at you.

Your breath gets stuck in your throat. No, there is nothing this creature deserves to hear from you, not even a single scream will escape your lips. You rest your lids, picture his oh so gorgeous face in front of your inner eye. If you only had more time, if you only listened. Your beloved marriage, vanishing in thin air.

“I’m sorry Sanemi. I’m so so sorry…”

When will it be over?

“Touch her and you’ll die.”

What...No, this is impossible, you have to be dreaming-

“Or nah, you’ll die anyway.”

 The urge to open your eyes again becomes unbearable.

Your heart skips a beat. Instead of getting greeted by the claws of the demon, you’re able to read it very clearly.

“Destroy.”

This back, so familiar broad…

“Sanemi?”

“Didn’t I tell you to stay inside the house?”, he barks over his shoulder.

It happens faster than your eyes are able to follow. One high jump, one slash of his sword and the demon’s head falls onto the soft grass in front of you. Immediately, you are surrounded by dust rising towards the moon.

“What were you even thinking?”

Before you’re even able to feel relieved your husband storms towards you, not a single spark of affection gleaming in his furious eyes.

“You promised over and over”, he screams on top of his lungs.

“I’m-“

“And you fucking lied into my face!”

Roughly, he grabs your Yukata with both hands and yanks your throbbing figure towards him.

“I’m so-“

“Is all of this a joke to you? Don’t you trust your husband enough to do as you’re told!? You’ve had this one job, that one fucking job to stay inside the house!”

“Sanemi, I-“

“Are you out of your goddamn mind? Did you really want to die right here?”

“Sanemi…”

You breathe his name into the night with strangled voice, tears now streaming down your face like a waterfall. You made a reckless mistake, but none of this happened because you wanted to hurt him. His words, his furious gaze, his hardened eyes so venomous that you have to look away dig themselves like knives into your already fragile heart and simply take your breath away. Out of all feelings, your husband is livid at you.

“I…I’m sorry”, you finally press out.

“You could have died, (y/n). You know that?”

He pulls you towards himself even harder, his hands fisting the fabric of your yukata so tightly that you fear he might rip it.

“You could have died and I couldn’t have done a single fucking thing. Losing you…Fuck!”

He yanks your chin upwards with one hand, forces you to look at him through your wet lashes. But you aren’t greeted by his stone-cold glare. No, are those…tears shimmering in his orbs? What’s left of your heart breaks in an instant.

“I can’t lose you. Not you, not the love of my life. Not another loved one. I couldn’t fucking stand this shitty world without you by my side. How many times did I tell you to stay inside the house when I’m gone at night?”, he screams at you.

“I-I’m sorry”, you hush through shaky lips.

“You’re my everything. Fuck, I love you so much…Losing you like that…”

The next second you find yourself devoured in his strong arms, holding you pressed against his chest so tightly that you can feel his heart pounding.

“Don’t you ever do that to me again, (y/n). Never”, he mutters into your hair while caressing your bloody hair.

“I’m sorry”, you mumble again.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Are you hurt? You’re bleeding, goddamn. Let’s get you inside, this needs to get stitched up.”

You don’t dare to contradict, allowing him to carry you back into safety with your arms cramped around his neck.

You’re safe. Sanemi is absolutely furious with you, but the worry in his eyes, the gleam…You bury your head inside his uniform, desperately trying to escape your own foolishness. None of this would have happened if you just stayed inside like he told you. If you were smart enough…

“How did he get you outside?”, Sanemi finally breaks the silence while cleaning your wound.

“He played a scared and lost child”, you mumble.

“Huh, what I thought. You’d never break a promise over nothing”, Sanemi replies, his voice a little softer than before.

“I know you tried to help, but never to shit like that again. When I saw you lying there and your blood on the grass, I almost died. You’re my everything, my wife. I can’t lose you because of a demon, you hear me? I was so damn worried about you…”

“I just wanted to do something…useful…”

“Useful? Are you too dumb to see how useful you are?”, he bites back.

Sanemi stops barking at you immediately after seeing how glossy your eyes turn all over again. No matter how fucking mad he is right now, he can’t hurt you any further. It’s clear you acted out of the right motives, he shouldn’t scream at you like that. Especially since you almost died tonight. Not his wife, not when you’re everything he has.

“I treasure you more than everything else in this world. You’re the reason I’m still believing there’s something good left here. Don’t you dare to risk your important life like that again, got it?”, he gently continues before caressing your cheek the way you love so much.

“I never wanted to cause you this much trouble. I…I was acting dumb…”, you mutter, intertwining your fingers with his.

“We’re all a little dumb from time to time, yeah? Let’s go back to sleep, that was more than enough for one night.”

You don’t hesitate when he pulls you along into the oh so inviting sheets. With him by your side, they definitely feel way more inviting. With him by your side, you don’t have to fear a single nightmare haunting you down this frightful night.

“At least I’m having an excuse now for a day off tomorrow. I love you, (y/n). So so much”, Sanemi mumbles into your hair, holding you so comforting against his chest that sleep washes over you almost immediately.

“I love you too, Sanemi…”

There is no doubt in the fact that Sanemi held you even closer each and every night after almost losing you through the hands of a demon.

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake

@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345

@komelrebi-san @kentocalls (your fic will be next) @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp

@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine @skeleton-the-gangser (reader isn't pregnant in that one, but the vibe is the same as with the Yoriichi fic you enjoyed)

[vauxxy]

SECOND THAT

luke castellan x reader

★ “i’m restless, i’m wrestling with the song that you love, it’s been stuck in my head”

ABOUT - luke castellan is the only one at camp who sees right through your perfect and poised persona; and all he wants is the satisfaction of ruining it.

WARNINGS - smut, mentions of choking, both the reader and luke are TERRIBLE but luke is much worse lol, swearing, written from the perspective of a deranged luke, penetration, only loosely proofread.

A/N- i have NEVER written and posted smut before EVER. like i get close but i never go all out. so… no hate guys 😘 also i feel like this is a bit ooc for luke so just pretend he’s actually insane and terrible guys!!! if you ignore his incoherent ramblings, it’s PWOP sooo… anyways this might be the first and last time i ever write smut who knows

luke castellan is no amateur when it comes to pretending to be something else. growing up, the only thing that mattered to luke was receiving praise or recognition for being ‘great’ or ‘honourable’ or whatever.

when you live your whole life pretending to be a perfect person, you kinda start to believe you really are a perfect person.

and if everyone you meet also believes you are indeed a perfect person, what’s the harm in continuing to pretend?

at the end of the day, both parties gain something. you get the validation and acclaim that you truly deserve, and they get a role model they aspire to at least halfway resemble.

luke is the sweetest guy at camp- everyone loves him. and he deserves it, doesn’t he? he deserves their praise and love and respect. gods, he should be rewarded for pretending to be so admirable for so long. he’s entitled to it.

you, on the other hand? you don’t. you don’t deserve an ounce of the praise luke has worked so hard to receive.

to luke, you’re vermin. behind your polite smiles and sweet words, there’s darkness. there’s an evil lurking within you- he’s sure of it.

he sees it during early morning sparring sessions, watching from the wings while you tactfully dodge every attack that comes your way. and when you eventually falter, he sees how your eyes turn cold and your smile fades.

he sees how you take a shaky breath, brushing yourself off with your bony hands before flashing a toothy grin. he feels nauseous when you extend your arm out to shake the hand of your opponent- because how the fuck can they believe your little act?

your gentle kindness and bashful charisma is so obviously fake. of course, he’s not pissed that you’re acting; everyone at camp is acting to an extent. but you’re going all out, and he can still see through it. what pisses him off, is that nobody else seems to recognise how truly malicious you can be.

maybe it’s because you’re pretty. luke is no stranger to getting special treatment based on his appearance, and neither should you be. maybe that’s the whole basis of your appeal. it seems to be the only thing holding your pathetic little facade together, considering your sloppy acting skills.

if you were ugly everyone would be able to call out your bullshit straight away, and then he wouldn’t have to worry about sharing the spotlight. honestly, the only reason why everyone loves you so much is because half of them want to fuck you, and the other half want your attention or approval- not that it’d be worth anything.

it was the last week of spring, meaning only the year-rounders and a few of the older kids were at camp. you just graduated high school, and arrived at camp early.

of course, you just had to return to camp prettier, taller, more confident, and with a fancy college acceptance letter. maybe you were much smarter than you let on- but it became very apparent that your intelligence wasn’t the reason you got accepted into NYU once he learned what you were studying.

“oh, i’m getting a degree in art history,”

seriously? art history? that’s gotta be the funniest thing luke has ever heard in his entire life.

“really? why art history?” he asks politely, watching your every move as he awaits your dumbass explanation.

you shrug cheerfully, looking around at the few other campers scattered around in a tight-knit circle as they wait for you to tell them about your ‘lovely’ 18th birthday and ‘eventful’ senior year.

“i don’t know, my mum works with a lot of artists, so she said it’d be a good conversation starter,” you say cheerfully, as if it wasn’t the stupidest thing to ever exit your mouth.

luke can’t help but let out a little giggle, before instantly lowering his head to offer some non-verbal apology. but to his surprise, you laugh along. “yeah, i really wanna score a job at the MET or something. i don’t mind either way,”

luke nods politely, letting the conversation continue without interrupting with a snide comment or unsolicited laughter.

he plays along as the conversation continues, pretending he doesn’t want to grab you by the throat and push you against the wall, demanding you to confess. demanding you to tell the fucking truth; that you’re a manipulative sycophant who’s bound to end up in rehab for getting addicted to designer drugs.

why is he the only one that sees you for who you truly are? gods, if he knew any better he might be charmed. you were naturally picturesque- or at least you seemed to be. the way that you were sitting on the grass with your hair draping over your body; you looked gorgeous. but you always look gorgeous, that’s your best quality after all.

of course all of camp half-blood was fooled- you were to pretty and kind to be lying. maybe it was better to let them keep on believing that you were this perfect image of a girl.

but he’d still appreciate the satisfaction of seeing you for who you are- seeing you in your rawest form.

and then suddenly, he saw it. some athena girl asked you if you wanted to go on a run with her later, to which you politely declined. of course, you kept your composure, told her that you had to take a nap, offered her a sympathetic smile and a ‘maybe next time’. but she didn’t see the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head as soon as she looked away.

luke was astonished. you really were getting sloppy, huh?

and yet, nobody else saw it. nobody else saw the look of disgust on your face as soon as she finished talking. he was seething- how on earth could everyone be so blind?

luke looks around at the group of people surrounding him, his eyes darting back to you ever 5 or 10 seconds. they all look at you with awe- as if you’re the most precious thing on earth.

fuck that. he was going to put you in your place.

a few hours pass, and it was finally time for everyone to walk back to their cabins.

luke spots you walking alone to your cabin, your face dimly lit by the moon as it shines over the camp. he’s so overwhelmed with anger, he couldn’t fathom caring about the consequences of whatever situation he was about to put himself in.

he quickly catches up to you, meeting your walking pace as he shoots you a friendly smile.

“hey, y/n. you got a minute?” luke asks, still adorning that charming smile. you smile back at him, nodding your head ever so gently, as if it would fall off if you moved it too fast. like a rusty elvis bobble head bought 1976 that resides on the dash of your grandmother’s busted car.

“yeah, why?” you hold your hands behind your back as you walk beside him, slowly approaching your empty cabin. luke shrugs his shoulders. “oh, i just had a little question. mind if we talk in your cabin?” he asks.

you nod, opening the door for luke and letting him walk through. you close the door behind him, before leaning your back against the wall. luke stands in front of you, his cheery demeanour vanishing as he crosses his arms.

“why the fuck are you such a little bitch all the time?”

you furrow your brows, mirroring his posture as you cross your arms defensively. “excuse me?”

luke rolls his eyes, letting out dry laughter as he looks you up and down. “you heard me,” he adds, watching you anxiously begin to pick at your lips with your freshly manicured fingernails.

“do you have a problem with me or something?” your whole body feels tense as you continue picking at your lips, your eyes locked onto his.

“yeah, i do have a problem. i’m tired of your little ‘nice girl’ act. it’s getting fucking annoying,” luke scoffed, taking a step closer towards you. your eyes darken, before shaking away your hostile expression.

“are you sure you wanna do this right now, castellan?”

“is that a threat?”

you pull your fingertips away from your lips, shifting your weight to the other side of your body as you cross your arms once more. you let silence fill the room before finally speaking up.

“listen, luke. everyone pretends to be someone they’re not. you and i just tend to do it more than others-“

luke cuts your off, taking another step forwards. “fuck off, we are not the same.”

you roll your eyes, banging your head against the wall as you groan irritably. “so what? are you gonna go around spreading cheap lies about me now?” you ask tiredly. luke shakes his head, slightly shrugging his shoulders.

“nah.” he replies curtly, his voice blunt and expression vague. “mkay, then what the fuck is your problem?”

luke takes another quick step forward, tightly holding your chin in his hand as he lifts your head to face him. “you’re my fucking problem.”

you let out a dry laugh, staring into his eyes as you attempt to intimidate him. “you’re such a loser.” you whisper, refusing to fight back against the way he’s gripping your face.

he stays silent, biting his lip as he looks over your form. “and you’re a brat.” he retorts.

“are we just going to keep throwing insults back and forth all night, or are you gonna explain why you’re so obsessed with me?” you ask playfully, cupping his face in your hand as an attempt to patronise him.

luke is stumped. to be fair, he is entirely obsessed with you. and he has been for years now. and now he has you cornered, watching your weak attempts at asserting dominance over him.

luke was over it.

suddenly, luke leans in, harshly pressing his lips against yours. you retract your hand from his face, pressing it against the wall as you feel his body moving towards you.

he wraps his other hand around your neck, only gently gripping it as to not alarm you.

luke is surprised by how you sink into his grip, pulling away to see your closed eyes and swollen lips. when you wipe your mouth and look at him with those hauntingly innocent eyes, he’s almost fooled.

you scoff, smirking as you tear away from his grip and take a few steps back. “is that all you wanted?” you say confidently, watching him turn around to watch you carefully pace around the room.

he shakes his head, groaning quietly as he walks over to you once more.

luke purses his lips, trying to suppress any sense of genuine attraction to you. but when his eyes gaze over to your red lips and flushed cheeks, he can’t help but let his mind wander.

“if you’re done, you can leave, castellan.” you say irritably, leaning against your bed frame.

it goes straight to his dick when you call him that, especially when your voice sounds so hoarse and cocky. he feels as though he’s finally accomplished what he’s been yearning to do for years now. he’s seeing the real you.

he couldn’t dare squander this opportunity now.

he pushes you down onto your bed, watching how your hair flows over your newly made bedsheets as your head hits the pillow.

“but you don’t want me to leave, do you?” luke says lowly, hovering over your body as his hand hold your wrists together above your head.

“i don’t care what you do, castellan.”

luke groans, pressing another rough kiss against your lips. you kiss back for whatever reason, and your firsts relax within his grip. it was almost as if you got off on the idea of someone calling out your bullshit. or maybe you got off on the idea of somewhat hating your guts. either way, luke knew you were more than eager to continue.

he let go of your wrists, before biting your bottom lip. your mouth opens slightly, offering entry to his tongue, deepening the kiss.

you hand cups his face, while the other grips his shoulder. after a few moments, he pulls away and begins sucking at the skin of your neck, leaving purple marks on your delicate skin while you let out hoarse whimpers.

his hands begin to fiddle with the fabric of your shirt, causing you to push his body forwards as you position yourself to sit on his lap. you take off your shirt, throwing it away as you run your hands down his back.

luke looks down at your chest, growing more aroused at the sight of your lacy little bra. it’s as if you knew someone was going to see it.

you feel a hardness growing from under his jeans, poking against your upper thigh as you slowly grind against his lap. luke let’s put a low moan, continuing to bury his face in your neck.

“i fucking hate you,” he growls, gripping the sides of your waist with his hands as you move against him.

“don’t care, take off your shirt,” you demand hurriedly, running your fingers through his hair as you tilt his head up to look at you.

luke rolls his eyes, before taking off his shirt. he quickly presses another series of harsh kissses against your neck, fiddling with the clasp of your bra as you push your chest up against his. you giggle softly at his incompetence, before he finally unhooks it and ravenously pulls it from your chest.

luke pushes your body backwards onto the bed, trailing kisses down from your neck and onto your tits. you let out a quiet moan, before biting down onto your hand in order to stifle the sound. his large hands knead your left breast, while the other grips the area just under your right breast, resting on top of your ribcage.

luke’s hands slowly move downwards, hip thumb tracing circles against the side of your hip as you gently grasp onto his hair. his fingertips gently pull down your shorts, leaving you in only your underwear.

he rubs his thumb over the wet fabric, before tilting his head to look up at you. “pathetic,” he mutters, smirking at your flushed faced. you groan, burying the back of your head further into the pillow as your back arches involuntarily.

luke’s thumb massages your clit from over the soaking fabric, watching you squirm in response. he lets out a dry laugh, before pulling down your panties and tossing them onto the floor.

“luke…” you moan quietly, closing your eyes as your hips jerk into the mattress. his fingers trace your wet folds, before letting his thumb rub circles against your clit and forcing two fingers inside of you.

you whimper before pursing your lips, rolling your head around as he slowly pumps his fingers in and out. he quickens his pace, pressing down harshly against your clit while beginning to suck on the skin of your upper thigh.

luke holds down your hip with his free hand as you begin to squirm.

suddenly, he stops.

you look at him with a confused expression, your face red as he pulls his fingers out. he chuckles at your disappointed face, before taking off his pants and boxers. you stare at his length unashamedly, biting down on your bottom lip.

“so fucking needy.” he says lowly, his voice horse as he softly begins to continue massaging your clit. you moan, feeling your back arch as he positions himself in front of your legs. he forcefully spreads them open as he teases your folds with the tip of his erect member.

you let out a little whine, your voice trembling as you try to move your hips against his length.

luke rolls his eyes at your poor attempts at penetration, before slowly pushing his cock into your entrance. you let out a breathy, high pitched moan, your hands eagerly gripping your bedsheets.

he gradually pushes in the entirety his length, continuing to rub circles into your clit. luke tightly grips your waist as he begins to slowly pull out, before jamming himself back in. you let out a breathy yelp as you body moves with his thrusts.

like continues relentlessly pushing in and out of you, massaging your waist as his thumb gradually increases the speed of its attack on your clit.

you try to steady you breathing, your face flushed as lukewarm continues to deliberately overwhelm your body.

“mm… luke, i’m gonna…” you mutter, your hips jerking upwards. he smiles at you, amused by how blissed out you look taking his cock. “so soon?” he teases, rapidly moving against your body.

you let out a stammering series of whimpers as your back arches upwards, feeing yourself suddenly release. luke grins, continuing to rub circles into your clit as he rides out your orgasm.

luke slowly retracts his thumb, repositioning the hand to gently grip your hip. he begins to slow down his movements, before quickly thrusting into you repetitively. you squirm, the movements of your hips constrained by his grip.

suddenly, he pulls out, releasing onto your stomach. see? he was a gentleman.

luke gazes over at the girl he just reduced to a panting mess as he stands up and puts his clothes back on. he smiles at you as he zips up his jeans, before kneeling besides you as you turn your head to look at him.

“i wont tell anyone how fucking pathetic you are, don’t worry, princess.”

you nod, staring at him as he continues to look at your defenceless body. “such a pretty girl,” he hums, cupping your face in his hand before kissing your forehead.

he reaches over to your discarded underwear and gently pulls them up your legs, the gesture acting somewhat as a peace offering. he takes a step back, simply taking in how endearingly stupid you look.

you slowly sit yourself up, grabbing your camp t shirt and putting it on. “goodnight, luke,” you choke out, your voice hoarse and breathing shallow. he nods, smiling softly as he turns to walk away. “night, princess.”

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Ex-husband!Simon "Ghost" Riley Drabble

Hi lovelies! Lia here again, I've been quite busy with school so I hope you guys can be a little patient with content since I've been stuck on a slump and there's a lot of things I'm currently busy with at the moment because of school despite posting so much last week. Here's the weekly content and I hope you all enjoy :)

Also how do you all feel if I write works inspired by old gacha songs? And yes I used to be a gacha girly, it was some wild phase AHAHAHA

My CoD Masterlist

Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @shadofireshinobi @thesnowurzikdjinn @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @cutenote @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000

Brainrot, Ex-husband!Simon "Ghost" Riley who decided he wanted to get a divorce with you because things weren't working out between the both of you, so you had to share custody of your daughter.

You managed to get yourself together, having no time to grieve that part of you that he took with him because you had a little one depending on you. You loved that girl for all she was, however she brings you and Simon together.

Not that you resent her for it, god no, it wasn't her fault you and your husband couldn't see eye to eye.. that he refused to retire after everything, maybe it was just your paranoia getting to you. You couldn't stand the fear anymore, the fear of one day he's not the one you'll see when you open the front door but Price.

You forgot how difficult it was doing this on your own until now, you could barely get up, your head was actually killing you. You pushed through, making your daughter breakfast.

You felt like you were about to throw up, ears started to ring and everything else felt numb. The next thing you know was your eyes rolling back and everything going black, the last thing you heard was your toddler panicking, calling you over and over on the verge of crying.

All while you were unconscious, your little one runs to your room to look for your phone to call her dad.

"Listen I know we—" Simon said expecting you on the phone before getting cut off by his daughter..

"Dada! Momma's dead, dada. Momma's not breathing!" In a panic, she cried it out like a mantra. Simon was in a panic, he got up from where he was and was speeding towards what used to be your shared home.

The next thing you know, you were hearing the beeps of a heart monitor. All your senses were working, all except sight.. you didn't have enough energy to open them, in the coldness of your whole body from the well ventilated room, you felt warmth on your hand.

It was all too familiar, calloused but so gentle and warm. Simon.. it was Simon. All while processing this situation, all that's going through Simon's head are the what ifs.

"Fucking hell, help her.. My wife, she's been unconscious for thirty minutes. She's breathing but it's faint and she's burning" Simon almost yelled in a full panic, he was doing his best not to snap at the hospital staff but how couldn't he? Hadn't even realized that he called you something you weren't anymore, the title he took with him.

Your little one holding her dad's hand in the waiting room, she was observant, an emotionally intelligent little girl who holds her dad's hand. Simon keeps reminding himself to calm down, how much his bumblebee must be terrified, far more than he was so he takes her in his arms.

Sooner or later they were allowed to enter, doctor said you were stabilized and only collapsed from a horrid fever and so much fatigue. Thinking of losing you, just like that with no warning would be the second time Simon would lose you.

Now watching you unconscious, IV tube connected to you because of course you haven't been eating well either. It made him rethink everything, was it a mistake to give you those papers? Was it worth it losing the one person in his life who he would give his life for with no hesitation?

All he could do for now was sit next to you, no matter how long it takes for you to wake up because he doesn't have the strength to leave, maybe in a day or two but not now..

Part 2 anyone?

[joonieskinks]

best friend's sister

simon "ghost" riley x reader | john's your older brother, simon is your lover, will it work? | fluff, mentions of needles, some brief smut | 1.1k

inspired by: starstuckmiraclekitty - love her writing

“Listen boys,” Price started, addressing the group with his hands on his hips. “She’s coming here to stay, and I want you all on your best behaviour. Think of her as my second set of eyes, go’it?” 

A string of “yes sirs” echoed throughout the room, Simon’s included, not thinking twice about the Captain’s little sister coming to the base, just another rookie in his view. 

He thought as much until he laid eyes on you for the first time. Your kind eyes, your gorgeous body and soft smile. You care so much about helping others, patching them up and sending them off healthy. You were good, kind, pure- a direct contrast to what Simon considered himself: damaged, broken, evil.

However you thought otherwise. It didn’t take long to notice the tall, brooding Lieutenant that was so close to your brother. His tall, muscular body, his gorgeous eyes that stood out amongst the dark of his mask. His humour when he was relaxed, his impressive skills and his empathy. Specifically towards you when you first arrived. Checking up on you, helping keep your supplies restocked and assisting in your training.

It was on days like this that you needed to focus on your breathing, trying not to lose yourself in the close proximity to Simon. His legs over your waist, hands wrapped around your wrists, pinning you to the floor below him. It took every ounce of restraint in his body not to tip the mask up, lean down and kiss your lips.

And Simon was no basket case, he picked up on your subtle hints. Your lingering gaze, the excuses you would muster just to touch his uniform, your heightened breathing with his presence. But you seemed to be completely lost when it came to him and his feelings. Although he’s not exactly obvious, he thought you could read his willingness to be around you and his touches as a sign.

Apparently not.

“Si, can we talk?” You asked as you locked his door behind you, fiddling with your fingers nervously.

“‘Course. What’s on your mind?” Your eyes met briefly before you needed to look away, attempting to conceal the blush on your cheeks. Simon gave you a minute, waiting across the room for you to take the first step. The leap, when he couldn’t. Somehow that sat better with him knowing it was you who initiated if it ever came to confessing to your brother. 

“Simon, I can’t keep going on like this. I just need to know...” You started, gathering as much courage as you could and taking a few steps closer to his form. 

“I want you, and I don’t think I can keep it to myself anymore.” Simon could only chuckle. 

“You weren’ exactly subtle, love.” He closed the gap between the two of you, his hand at your chin, pushing it upwards to look into your eyes. 

You smiled slightly at the implication, biting your lips as you took in the man before you. 

“I don’t want you to regret this, or get in trouble because of me.” You confessed softly.

“Trus’me. S’not something I’m looking forward to,” Simon started, using his spare hand to take the mask off. You could only look in shock as he bared himself to you - the trust, the love. You knew then and there he wasn’t someone you could just walk away from. 

“But I think you’re worth it.” 

“Simon, you’re gorg-” You started but were quickly cut off by his lips on yours, his hands around your waist, directing you over to his bed. Stripping you of your clothes, your sticky underwear and touching his bare body with yours.

It wasn’t long before his head was between your thighs, his tongue pressed against your throbbing clit, making you cum once, twice, thrice over. 

Taking his hard length, over and over again until he could finish inside you, holding you close, kissing your lips and whispering sweet praises. Cleaning you up afterwards, bringing you in and keeping you beside him all night. Night after night, and neither of you could get enough. 

After three months of sneaking around, concealing your love for eachother behind closed doors, it was you who slipped up. 

In front of none other than John. 

Simon came by the infirmary to hand off the extra supply of syringes you needed for standard blood work procedures. He put the box into your arms, nodding his head to Price as he lay on the bed for his standard checkup from you. Taking the box, you leaned up to kiss Simon on the mask as a thank you, turning around to unpack it all. You only realized your mistake after the fact. Both boys were frozen and deadly silent as the mistake sunk in. You turned your head around slowly, kicking yourself for not thinking twice. 

John was the first one to break. 

“So,” He huffed, pointing aggressively at Simon. “You’re the one who's been sneaking around with my sister.” John’s gaze staring daggers into your lover, who could only watch back in shock.

Fuck. 

John moved quickly, trying to shove off the elastic arm tie, ripping the blankets back to charge at Simon.

“John!” You screamed, grabbing at his arms to hold him back. Simon quickly darted out of the room, leaving you to handle your brother for the time being. He certainly didn’t want his Captain to (try) and kick his ass in front of you. 

“John! Listen to me!” Heaving on your sibling, begging him to stop. 

“I’m gonna kick his ass for this (sure you are, buddy). Swear on it.” John was seething with anger. 

“I love him!” You screamed, giving one more big tug before John let up, facing you.

“You- What?” He looked utterly perplexed, but you nodded reassuringly.

“I do. I know you may not approve now, but you’ll have to come to terms with it eventually, John. It’s not going anywhere. You can’t bully him away.” You exhaled frustrated. “I know you only want to protect me, but I’m an adult now, you have got to start seeing me that way, alright? I love Simon, and he’s been so good to me. Please…” You squeezed your brother's arm, a silent beg. 

John closed his eyes, rubbing at his forehead. 

“‘Swear to God if he hurts you Y/N…” He warned. 

“Never.” You promised, nodding your head rapidly and John let out the breath he had been holding in. 

“Fuckers’ still got a lot to answer for.”

John eventually came around - after some punches that didn’t land on Simon and an outburst that left him feeling ridiculous. He inevitably came to accept you two, stomaching you around the barracks, even allowing him to come to family Christmases…

Just on the condition that you two aren't so loud at nightfall anymore.

Gives the old man a headache. 

And nausea.

//

[bleachification]

⸻ THE PRINCE(SS) & THE PROTECTOR

pairing: zoro x reader

word count: 3.5k

synopsis:  being in love with zoro is not for the weak, especially when such a love is unrequited. so it is all the more confusing when a certain pirate refuses to let you go when you decide to give your heart a break and leave the crew for good.

note: i really need to stop writing zoro fics with an arranged marriage and bodyguard/protector type premise. with that being said… enjoy xoxo

(also yes this is part ONE)

+ + + + + + + + + + + +

Thunderstorms are the perfect weather conditions for silent rumination. You isolate yourself in a corner of the ship, eyes closed as rainwater glides down your face in cool streams. With a smile, you breathe in the scent of salt and earth that mingles with the southern winds. 

The crew is below deck, sheltered from the downpour and crackling lightning that splits the skies every so often. They’re all asleep and have been for a while now. You are the outlier. The strange one that decided to sit between a storm and the sea during the devil’s hours. Funnels of black clouds swirl angrily above you as it continues to pour. Your clothes, hair, everything is drenched. Soaked down to the very bones—some particularly weary ones. 

You relish the feeling of the water against your skin for another moment, reviving yourself from the bleak reflections plaguing your mind. By the time you make it inside, a decision was made. 

The next morning, faint sunlight filtered by sparse clouds light up the horizon in hues of soft orange and calm yellow. The water is still. Steady. Almost as if it had forgotten its role as a tempest’s plaything mere hours ago. It’s early. Much too early for most of the crew to be awake, but you can hear a faint tinkering from Usopp’s room and the steady footsteps of another member coming up the stairs to the upper deck.

A familiar silhouette appears in your vision. 

“Morning, Robin,” you say. 

The archaeologist comes to stand next to you and nods. “Good morning. You’re up early.”

“Had a lot on my mind. Doesn’t leave much room for sleep,” you point out. 

“Did you get any?”

“Some.”

She raises a brow, unconvinced. 

“About an hour's worth,” you shrug. 

An arm sprouts up from the railing you’re leaning on. It holds out a mug of steaming coffee. You take the cup gratefully. The smooth liquid warms you up in the crisp autumn air. Robin takes a sip of her own drink before responding. 

“What’s the verdict?” She asks. 

“I’ve decided to go.”

She sighs. “That’s it then. I understand there’s no point in trying to change your mind?”

You shake your head sadly. The past few weeks of turmoil and trepidation cemented that certainty. You can’t stay. Not when the fate of a nation falls on your shoulders… and certainly not with feelings as forbidden as the ones you harbour. 

“Is it because of him?”

“No. No,” you emphasize at Robin's doubtful expression. 

“Don’t lie,” she chides. 

You grimace. “Well, not entirely because of him.”

Robin scans the calm horizon with watchful eyes, a storm of thoughts whirling into action behind that piercing gaze of hers. The archaeologist has always been the most logical out of the crew, favouring rationality over emotion. It is the trait you admire most about Robin and the reason why you sought her counsel specifically, choosing to confide in her—and only her—about the decision you faced. 

“He deserves to know,” she says softly. 

You stiffen, the mere thought making your throat tighten up with anxiety. You shake your head, effectively ending the conversation. At the perfect time too, as one by one the rest of the crew pad up the stairs, ready to start the day. 

Luffy first, bounding up the steps with a large grin. Nami follows, then everyone trickles through the doors. Zoro is last. 

The swordsman yawns and stretches his arms behind his head, taut muscles glistening under the morning sun. He opens one eye, peeking at you from under sleepy lids. Your heart clenches at the lazy smile he greets you with. 

This is going to be difficult. 

“Mornin’,” Zoro mumbles, stifling another yawn behind his fist. 

The rest of the crew bustles about, running around the deck in preparation for the day ahead. You hear Luffy’s excited laugh somewhere in the background followed by familiar shouts of concern and beratement from Nami, Sanji and Usopp, each taking turns to scold the captain’s latest—and no doubt foolish—idea. Whatever it may be. 

The noise and chaos fades away the moment Zoro walks up to you, his warmth surrounding you despite the cold morning temperature. It makes it near impossible for you to focus on much else. Anything else. 

“Hey,” you say. 

He frowns, eyes scanning your face. You resist the urge to touch it, anxious. Was there something on your face? A pimple? An eyelash? 

“What? What is it?” You ask, nerves alight. 

“Did you stay up late?”

You blink, caught off guard. Did you really look that tired?

“Yes,” you answer plainly. There’s no point in trying to hide it from him. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Zoro arches a brow. “Why not?” Concern laces the question. You almost crumble, seconds away from confessing the truth you’ve been hiding for weeks, when someone barrels into Zoro, knocking him over and effectively ending your conversation. 

Luffy, unfazed, pops up onto his feet and dusts himself off, his signature toothy smile never having left his face. Despite his right-hand man groaning on the ground next to him, Luffy seems as chipper as ever. 

“Sorry, Zoro!” He apologizes, not sounding very sorry at all. 

“I… hate… you…” Zoro grunts, still recovering from having the wind knocked out of him. 

Luffy only laughs it off and runs back to the rest of the crew, chattering about some new adventure that is bound to be more effort than it is worth. 

“You okay?” You press your lips together in an attempt to stifle a laugh. 

Zoro takes the hand you offer, warm palm wrapping around your own. You can feel rough calluses against your skin—a testament to his training. You pull him up and watch him steady himself. He doesn’t let go of your hand. Nervous, you break contact first. 

He shoots you a puzzled look, but decides against commenting on it. 

“I will be once I knock him upside the head.”

“Let’s not give the poor boy brain damage.”

Zoro snorts. “You mean more than he already has?”

You laugh, the sound almost entirely concealed by a burst of raucous shouts coming from the other side of the deck. Curious, you begin walking over to the crew. Zoro follows suit with his hands in his pockets. As the two of you make your way across the ship’s expanse, the sight of Nami and Luffy arguing comes into view. The others stand off to the side, exasperation and amusement colouring their expressions. 

“It’s too risky!”

“It’ll be fine, why are you being so boring?”

“I am trying to keep us from getting killed,” Nami seethes. Her face is set in a tight scowl that twists her features into something alarmingly frightening. You haven’t seen her this angry in quite some time. 

“Not if we’re careful,” Luffy defends. The captain looks bored and irritated at the same time. 

Nami’s right eye twitches.  

Oh dear. 

“And since when are you careful?” 

“I’m not. But [name] is.” Your captain jerks a thumb in your direction. 

All heads swivel to look at you. 

You raise your palms up, placating. “I… just got here.”

Nami runs up to you, eyes pleading. The ginger-haired woman grabs your shoulders and gently shakes you. 

“Please knock some sense into him!”

You tilt your head and lean to the left in order to peek at Luffy from behind Nami’s frame. The boy scratches the back of his head with a toothy grin. 

“Would you care to explain, Captain?” You ask bemusedly. 

Luffy’s eyes dance with mischief. “We’ve got a mission!”

It’s Zoro that steps in this time. “Just the two of you?”

“Well, yeah,” Luffy answers plainly. 

You gently pry Nami’s hands off. “Why?” 

“You’re the only one who knows the layout of the place,” he explains. 

You frown. “What place?”

“Aracorn Palace,” Robin interjects. There’s a small smile on her face as she watches the situation unfold. Always assessing. Always dissecting. 

Aracorn… such a familiar name. It takes a second before a sliver of memory tickles the edges of your mind. An image forms; one of a mighty castle built from silver and stone erected in the heart of a powerful city. 

You used to travel there for important delegations and social banquets. Luffy is right. You do know the area well. 

“We’re going there? What for?”

“And why only the two of you?” Zoro questions. 

“To be stealthy,” Luffy grins. 

“Right. Stealthy. You.” Zoro stares, unconvinced. 

Luffy ignores his second-in-command. “We’re going to go rescue someone. He’s being kept in the dungeons.”

So many questions. 

“Who is it?”

Robin, again, speaks up. “His name is not important. He may not even own such a thing. His role as an ex-member of an underground information guild named Kleios is what makes him useful to us. An execution date has been set for tomorrow evening, so if we are to save the man, we must do it soon.”

“Well? What do you say?” Luffy's enthusiasm is palpable. 

The rest of the crew watches you, assuming that you would wave it off. The danger is obvious, and you are—among most instances—level headed enough to pull the plug when needed. 

One last adventure. 

You surprise them. 

“I’m in.”

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . 　  

You should have known it wouldn’t be easy. In fact, you should have known that the entire plan would fall apart because of course it did. Nothing ever seems to go right for the crew. Right now you curse such rotten luck. Although… it isn’t even luck, not really. It’s the captain… Zoro… Nami… Sanji… the whole lot of them! No matter how organized—how meticulous—a plan was, it never actually fucking went to plan. You suppose you’ll miss it. That unmanned chaos. You suppose you’ll miss all of it. As for who you’ll miss most…

“Zoro!” You stare up at the swordsman in both relief and horror. He dangles from a rope ladder, cascaded off the side of a strange looking vehicle—one with wings and whirring motors that suspend its large metal body in the open air. Usopp sits in the pilot seat manning the impressive contraption. Sweat beads on his forehead from concentration. The others are likely protecting the ship from the nation’s naval cavalry. 

 You increase your pace despite the burning sensation in your lungs. Hot on your heels is a stretch of armed guards mixed with strange looking creatures that look to be a gruesome mismatch of different animals—both natural and mythological. 

Chimeras. 

Luffy, for once, listened and fled alongside you when shit hit the fan—albeit with extreme reluctance. The captain was able to deal with the first rush of soldiers and their Chimera, but the monster was vicious and even Luffy struggled. That was a mere one. The royal guard owned five. And all of them, snapping their fanged teeth and snarling in hunger, are quickly closing the distance between themselves and you—their prey. 

The prisoner was long dead. The whole thing was a trap designed to ensnare the Straw Hats, and Luffy and you had walked straight into it. By the time you both realized you had been played, the cavalry had already surrounded you. Thankfully, Luffy was the master of creative escapes. He was not, however, a master of subtle ones. What was originally one guard unit and its accompanying Chimera quickly turned into all of them chasing after you in a vicious frenzy. 

“Don’t engage! We’ll come to you!” You shout towards Zoro, urging him to stay aboard. You can see a sort of panic in his eyes, mottled by excitement. He’s itching to fight. But doing so would be his biggest mistake yet and likely his last as well if he does not heed your words. 

The murderous soldiers are practically breathing down your necks, and even with Luffy trying to fend off as many as possible, you will quickly be overwhelmed by the strength of the Chimeras. The monsters growl and roar as their heavy steps thunder behind you, bloodlust practically soaking them through. If Zoro abandoned the ladder and tried to fight them off… it would be sheer suicide. You won’t let that happen.

Luffy manages to stretch out and grab hold of Zoro in the near distance. With a yell, he swings himself up and grabs you along the way. You yelp, the sudden movement catching you off guard. You shut your eyes as the wind whips you in the face. With a soft thud you land against a warm mass.

Zoro catches you, arms encircling your waist. 

“Are you okay?” He murmurs into your ear. 

You sag into him from relief. “Yes. Is Luffy…?”

“He’s completely fine,” Zoro smirks. 

Luffy, who is sprawled across the floor, gives you two thumbs up in reassurance. You can’t help but laugh. 

“Usopp! Take us away.”

The pilot gives you a smile and a salute before he presses a button and pulls the wheel up. Slowly, you feel the contraption tilt upwards. Smooth and steady. 

CRASH!

Out of nowhere, you and the rest of the crew are violently thrown to the left as something punctures the metal wall of the vehicle and jerks the entire thing back. Before you go slamming into the wall, Zoro twists himself around and cushions the blow. 

“What the hell?” Zoro’s grip on you tightens protectively.

A strange red pincer curls into the crumpled sheet that—just a moment ago—was the side hull. It looks to be the same sort of armour that is found upon the back of a crab, except it bears a darker color. Not unlike a deep pool of blood. Its shape is almost identical to that of a scorpion's tail but riddled with sharp ridges that cover its surface. The thing is the size of your head—a grotesque limb extended from one of the Chimeras, no doubt. 

Zoro and Luffy both immediately jump into action, the former slicing at the pincer while Luffy tries brute force. Neither works. Solid and unbending, the pincer trembles then stills. The next second you are staring into the howling winds and open space. The army roars beneath you, fifty feet below. The ugly beast with the scorpion tail isn’t finished. It narrows its beady eyes and with astonishing speed, it whips its tail upwards, spearing the floor. 

Usopp does his best to recenter, managing to keep everyone upright and away from the gaping hole left by the ripped wall.

“Shit,” Zoro hisses. “The damn thing is too tough. I can’t cut through.”

“I can’t rip it out!” Luffy frowns, throwing punch after fruitless punch at the immovable pincer. 

Panic threatens to overwhelm you.

Shit, shit, shit. Shit!

Something glints in the corner of your vision. A solution strikes you and you scramble towards a device on the floor. 

“The laser cutter! I can–” but your voice is lost to the bellowing winds as the monster yanks its tail once more, causing the entire machine to shake. You fumble with the device and clumsily clasp it in your trembling hands. Vertigo strikes you as you look down for a split second. 

The ground is nearing at an alarming rate.

It’s too close. Too—

Zoro jumps. 

“NO!” You reach out in an attempt to pull him back but you're too late. The fabric of his shirt slips out of your grasp and Zoro goes tumbling down—straight into the unhinged maw of the monster below. 

You aren’t sure if the screams piercing the air are your own or if they belong to the dying men below. With fluid ease, Zoro manages to sidestep the beast. He dives into the mass, slashing through their ranks. It is beyond impressive. 

But it is not enough. 

The Chimeras have zoned in, their attention drawn to Zoro. Snarling and snapping, they circle their prey. 

Its suicide. 

“No…”

Luffy steps forward, ready to leap into the chaos, when familiar shouts sound from below. 

The rest of the crew are here. 

You collapse in relief, adrenaline draining from your body. 

He’s okay.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . 　  

“This is such a stupid fight,” you sigh. 

“This isn’t a fight,” Zoro frowns, unnerved by the very idea of arguing with you. 

Sanji pipes up. “It sounds like a fight.”

Nami pinches him by the ear and drags the chef out of the kitchen, scolding him as he protests and apologizes. 

“But Nami! They’re in my workspace!”

You and Zoro both ignore him, too preoccupied with the argument at hand. 

“I saved your life. His too. If anything, you should be thanking me.”

You scoff in disbelief. “I’m not going to thank you for your recklessness.”

“And I won’t apologize for it,” Zoro says firmly. 

“You’re going to get yourself killed one day! I refuse to stick around and watch it happen.”

He freezes as he catches onto the underlying meaning behind your words. “What do you mean by that?”

“I…” you hesitate, unprepared for this conversation. You didn’t mean to let news of your departure slip out. This isn’t how it was supposed to go. You’re both too agitated. Too riled up. 

“What do you mean by that?” He echoes. His voice is low and careful, tip toeing on the edge between urgency and trepidation. 

You want to turn around. Walk away. Lie. 

But this is Zoro. A man you entrust with your life and, occasionally, your heart as well. Secrets don’t belong in your relationship—as muddled as it is—and they will only consume what trust you have forged through the years. 

It is time to bear the truth in front of the most terrifying witness. 

With a rough swallow, you tell him everything. Your plan to leave the crew, to retain your birthright, and to finally settle your country’s score, once and for all, by bringing peace through union. A marriage between royal heirs. You and a foreign prince. 

You can’t look at him as the secret you’ve been harbouring finally spills over your lips like oil. If you look at him, you’ll cry. 

“…I leave in two weeks,” you finish. You’re still staring at the ground, heart racing a mile a minute. 

There’s no answer. Silence stretches on for a while, so quiet a person’s breath could be mistaken for thunder. So cloying, it stains your lungs. Finally, you can’t take it anymore. You snap your head up, ready to demand a reply from the swordsman, but the look on Zoro’s face wipes anything you have to say from memory. 

Shock, anger, disappointment, sadness. Those are all too shallow of description for the depth of what he is feeling. The best he settles on is desperation. An intensely unpleasant anxiety that borders on panic. That is what currently thrums in his veins. 

You’re leaving…?

“You won’t change my mind Zoro.”

He doesn’t answer. 

“Nothing will,” you add softly. 

Especially not him. 

This is your goal—your dream. He can’t take that away from you no matter how much he resents it. He simply can’t. But he can be angry, can’t he? He deserves that anger. Needs it to keep him sane. But before he can articulate it, you speak up again, turning the subject back to the argument before. 

“The point is you’re too rash.”

He’s barely listening. “It’s my job.”

“No,” you reply firmly. “No it’s not. You put that title on yourself—placed that burden on your own shoulders, never asking for a hand. Not even when so many would offer.”

“I don’t need help. I protect my friends. That’s what I do,” he grits out. 

“Even at your own expense?”

“Yes.”

You scoff in disbelief. “It's idiotic.”

“It’s my duty.”

“So you say!” You throw your hands up, exasperated and frustrated. “But that’s not all it is, is it? You fear losing that part of yourself—the protector, the bodyguard, the shield—because you would lose yourself in the process. Your entire life—your purpose—does not revolve around meaningless self-sacrifice and protecting us from a world we choose to exist in!”

He scoffs in sheer disbelief. “And you? What exactly is your role? Don’t you dare stand there and attempt to psychoanalyze me when you’re just a damn coward!”

You suck in a sharp breath, his words striking deep. “I am not a coward.”

“Then why the hell are you running away?!”

“Running? Running?!”

He nods, jaw clenched. He avoids looking straight at you—at the hurt in your eyes. “Yes. The only thing you know how to do.”

Anger replaces hurt. “You fucking hypocrite,” you spat out.

He shakes his head. “I’m just calling it like I see it.” 

“You are nothing without your so-called duty,” you hiss. “So you do not get to judge mine.”

“Is that why you abandoned it in the first place? I wonder where this valiant change of heart came from.”

“You could never understand.”

He drops his gaze to the floor and takes a heavy step back. Zoro can barely look at you. “You’re right. I could never understand turning my back on people who needed me.”

Those are the last words he says to you. The next morning, you are gone. All of your things and belongings cleared from your room—like you had never existed on the ship in the first place. 

[lcriedlastnight]

Y/n and Lando have a friendly competition to see who can get more numbers and y/n gets upset when Lando gets the number of someone who actually likes him

omg this is such a great idea, thanks for trusting me to write it anon! ily!

tw: fem! reader, swears, lmk if you want me to add anything else.

w/c: 1.2k

"truth or dare?" lando asks. neither of you are even that drunk so how you had resorted to playing high school party games in the middle of the club was beyond you, all you knew that is if lando wanted you to jump off the nearest bridge you would be pulling up the directions on google maps on your phone seconds later.

"dare" you grin, thinking your choice to be bold, especially when you were playing with lando. your fears are confirmed when he smiles like a cheshire cat at your answer, like it was exactly what he wanted.

"okay well this is kinda a dare for us both, a challenge if you will.." lando trails off as you stand there, drink in hand waiting for him to continue with what was probably going to be a god awful plan or 'challenge' as he called it. you hum out to show you were listening and interested.

"it's simple really, we go around the club and try and see who can get the most numbers, whoever gets the most in the next two hours wins." lando explains. you honestly do not think you have ever heard of a worse game in your life. you guess it does not help if you were in love with your competition. you knew how hard it was seeing lando flirt with random girls in the clubs you had joined him in every weekend or so. you sigh as you contemplate his offer.

"what do i get if i win?" you ask, wanting to make watching the man you were in love with flirt it up with other girls, worth it. it is lando's turn to think as you watch on, desperate for him to decide to call it off, the idea of him getting other girls numbers unsettling, but you knew you could never pull out without hearing the end of it from your opponent.

that smile returns and before you can focus too much on the swirly, fuzzy feeling it creates in your stomach he's speaking up. "the winner gets a whole week of favours from the loser." you probably do not think hard enough about how badly this could end for you before you agree and you are both on your separate ways, hunting for your first victim. you do not feel very comfortable flirting with these random guys, promising to call them and the likes, when you knew that your heart belonged to the stupid boy who had probably only suggested this so he could get girls numbers for when he was lonely.

after an hour you had near enough given up as it felt draining talking to so many men, when none of them even cared enough to ask your name. it was exhausting and this point you knew you just wanted to go home but you knew you still had an hour of this left so you soldier on, continuing your bland and boring conversations with the lamest guys you had seriously ever met.

an hour and a half in and you had only gotten ten phone numbers., you knew as soon as you and lando had counted them up to see who the winner was they would be getting thrown away so you did not really care much to keep them pretty or even safe as you were sure you lost a few navigating through the club crowds.

you had tried not to watch lando jump from girl to girl, most of the time not even having to lay on any charm or anything. you decided in that moment to hate him for the rest of your life. even though you love him it was literally killing you to see this happen right in front of your eyes, and you had no one to blame bar yourself as you had literally encouraged this to happen by agreeing to his stupid dare/ challenge. at this point you had stopped caring about losing and started thinking about how what lando would make you do for the next week straight could never be as bad as watching him throw himself at hundreds of different girls. your eyes are glued to lando as you watch him saunter over to a group of girls, one you could recognise from a million miles away. it was that stupid model that was always liking and commenting on lando's instagram posts. you knew for a fact that she genuinely already had a liking towards lando and the thought of him handing her his number had made you feel sick to your stomach. there was no way in hell you were sticking around to see this one, you were sure this one would be the one that broke you.

you sling the coat that is hanging over your arm around your shoulder and slide your arms into the arms of the jacket before weaving through the crowd to the club exit. you knew lando would probably be going home with blonde model for the night, you heading home by yourself like always. you tried not to be bitter but you were so tired of begging anyone and everything that it would one day be you that lando begs to take home, even for just one night, you would take that over never knowing his touch easily.

you wait for your uber outside in the cold, hearing the noise of the club come and go as the doors to the building open and close as people enter and exit as they please. one of the last times you hear the door open and close you hear footsteps approach you slowly, you cannot even find it in you to be scared because you can tell exactly who it is from the footfall alone, nevermind the overpowering scent that seems to follow you around even after you had left the boys presence.

"y'going home already? cause y'know 've won?" lando teases but you are not in the mood so you fimd it hard to muster up even a fake laugh. lando frowns at you, confused.

"wait what's wrong?" he asks, hand coming to rest on your shoulder, spinning you around to face him.

instead of answering his question you reply "i have an uber coming. it's on its way." lando nods but speaks up again anyway.

"did you not like the game? did someone say something to you?" he presses, his sudden protective nature doing nothing to help the heart eyes you feel forming as you stare at him.

"no one said anything. how many numbers did you get?" you ask. lando frowns at the way you change the conversation, worried for you.

"i didn't get any." he says, hands coming up to cup your cheeks. you furrow your brows in confusion.

"i seen you talk to loads of girls?" you tell him, eyes trailing over his face trying to catch him out in a lie. you could not.

"didn't get any of their numbers though? realised after the first girl i talked to that none of them even held a candle to you, sweetheart." lando smiles as his thumbs trace a path down your cheeks.

"not even that blonde model who liked all of your instagram posts?" you ask, feeling a little insecure because of lando's out of the blue, kinda confession.

"nah, just went around talking about you all night." lando confesses. "i would've came back to you sooner but you know me, can't give up on a challenge first." you roll your eyes at his words. you link your hand with his and pull him to stand beside you to wait for your uber and he does so without a complaint.

[eiightysixbaby]

princess leia, and other wishes

pairing: bestfriend!eddie munson x fem!reader

wishing on a star? i guess it can’t hurt… (1.7k)

cw: mutual pining, eddie calls r an asshole playfully, fluff fluff fluff

a/n: just something short and sweet with our favorite guy 🥹 this really started as something smaller to give me a break from writing my longer oneshots. enjoy!!

The grass is prickly beneath your fingers, your palm outstretched beyond the edges of the blanket beneath you, pulling absentmindedly at the lush green strands.

Night fell some time ago, the sky a deep inky blue above you with stars that twinkle spectacularly as far as the eye can see.

Eddie lays beside you, hands clasped on his chest as he looks up at the bright flickering dots. You’d come out to this field on a whim, a random suggestion from him to go stargazing. Tucked high on a hill, away from the lights of Hawkins, you feel as though you can see every galaxy.

Occasionally you find yourself stealing glances at him, watching the way his chest rises and falls easily with each breath. If you were braver, you’d roll onto your side and study every inch of his face, radiantly beautiful even in the dark.

You feel his pinky finger graze your side, and you turn your face to his.

“You need to come up with a wish, in case we see a shooting star,” he says, his voice conspiratorial, like he’s telling you about a top-secret operation.

The corner of your mouth twitches in a sort of smile. “D’you believe in that junk?”

He chuckles lightly, shrugging. “Not really, but it’s worth a shot, right?”

“Yeah. Worth a shot,” you reply, feeling your heart thrumming in your chest.

Both of you turn your faces back to the sky, listening to the crickets chirp in the grass around you. Occasionally you hear the faint, dreamlike sound of car horns honking on the roads beyond. Being here with Eddie, in your quiet secluded oasis all alone, only ramps up your suppressed longing for him. Your right hand and his left rest mere centimeters apart from each other on the worn blanket, and you swear your skin vibrates with the desire to touch his.

You allow yourself a moment to wonder if he's feeling the same urge, if it's as hard for him to hold back as it is for you. The weight of your yearning is heavy on your chest, as if you have an anvil sitting on top of you and stealing your breath. You curse yourself for letting it get this bad, this stupid crush on your best friend that never should've started to begin with.

You're broken from your thoughts as one of his hands reaches out to grab your arm, his other hand pointing up at the velvety blue above. Sure enough, a shooting star streaks across the sky; a blink-and-you'll-miss-it moment. As you watch it, you're unaware of the fact that Eddie is watching you.

One foolish wish crosses your mind.

"Okay, I honestly didn't think we'd actually see one," Eddie says beside you. His fingers release their grip on your arm, and you find yourself missing the soft squeeze of them. “So, what'd ya wish for?” He waggles his brows expectantly, waiting for your answer.

You swallow hard before forcing yourself into a lighthearted tone. “No way, if I tell you it won't come true.”

He scoffs, rolling onto his side so he's facing you. “What happened to not believing in 'that junk'?” he jokes. “Now you're getting all superstitious on me.”

You match his movement, rolling onto your side as well.

“My wishes are top secret, sorry,” you reply, miming zipping your lips shut.

“No fair! What if I tell you mine?”

“Let me guess, you wished Steve would finally let you steal that Slave Leia cardboard cutout from Family Video?”

He narrows his eyes. “Okay, am I that predictable?”

“Yes,” you say deadpan, trying not to crack a smile. He doesn't reply, just stares at you, like he's committing every inch of your face to his permanent memory. It's too much, and you avert your gaze abruptly from his deep brown eyes. You're suddenly far too close to him, and your heart feels like it might claw out of your chest and find a home in his instead.

You lie on your back once more, your breathing shallow as your heartbeat races.

A finger pokes you in the ribs.

“Will you pleeeeease tell me what you wished for?” Eddie asks, giving you his best pout and puppy eyes.

“What if I didn’t wish for anything?”

“Nice try.”

“Why is it so important to you what I wished for?” you ask, intending to stall as long as you can. You could come up with a lie, some dumb filler wish, but you know Eddie would see right through it.

“Honestly, the fact that you won’t tell me is driving me crazy. So now I need to know or I’ll literally die.”

You huff, reaching a hand out to cover his still-pouting face with an open palm. “You are SO dramatic.”

His tongue licks a flat stripe up your palm, making you recoil with a gasp. You go to swat at him, but he moves quicker than you, pinning your arms down on either side of your head. His knees press into the blanket on either side of you, his body hovering over yours but not quite touching anywhere.

He’s keeping his distance. Your heart aches. You want more than anything to pull him into you, press your lips to his.

“Tell me your wish, you little asshole!” he says, a devious smile playing on his lips.

When you don’t return his playfulness, his teasing, is when his brow furrows. You look too serious beneath him, lost in thought. He moves again to sit beside you, letting go of the hold he had on your wrists.

“Hey, what’s up? If it’s that big of a deal, you don’t have to tell me. Swear, I was just messing around.”

You shake your head, groaning softly as you rub your hands down your face, your skin stretching with the motion. “Eddie, you have no idea.”

“What do you mean?”

Your words barely come out audible the first time, and he can’t hear you over the singing crickets and the slight breeze rustling the leaves.

“I wished for you,” you say again, after he asks you to repeat yourself.

“Me? But I’m— I’m right here. I’m sorry, are you being funny, or?” he trails off, not putting the pieces together in his head.

“Eddie,” you say, sitting up now.

“Yeah?”

This is a bad idea, you think to yourself. Bad idea bad idea bad idea.

And yet you push yourself to keep talking. To not lose your nerve. To get an answer, finally. Because there’s a smaller voice in your head that’s telling you this is right.

“Can I kiss you?”

His eyes go wide, confusion crossing his features like he’s not sure he heard you right. “Wh- me? Now? You want to kiss me?”

He’s not into it. Retreat. Retreat. Retreat.

“I wished for you,” you say with a shaky inhale. “Because I want you, as more than a friend.” You’re speaking so quietly he has to lean in to hear you.

He doesn’t say anything for a minute, and for once you can’t gauge his expression. You’re ready to tell him to forget it, to get up and haul ass out of this field and back to the van, but then he clears his throat.

“Swear you’re not messing with me,” he says finally. His eyes search your face almost frantically, and your breath catches in your throat.

“I’m not messing with you, Eddie. I mean it.” You aren’t sure how you even manage to say the words. You feel like all of the oxygen has left your lungs.

“Well, shit. Then yeah,” he says, almost bashfully. “Yeah, you can kiss me.”

Your eyes blow wide, blinking at him while you make sure you heard him right.

“I can?”

“Did you think I’d say no? Shit, sweetheart, I would’ve let you kiss me ages ago. O-or I would’ve done it myself, but y’know, I didn’t want to cross a line or anything—”

“Eddie,” you say, a smile breaking out on your face.

“Damn, my wish was so fucking stupid. I mean you’re out here wishing for me, and I really couldn’t see the signs? I’m so sorry—”

“Eddie!” He stops his rambling, eyes wide as they meet yours.

You don’t give him the chance to say anything else, leaning forward into his personal space. You let one hand come up to hold his jaw gently, pressing your lips to his in your final act of bravery.

It’s such a fucking cliche, but you swear there’s fireworks going off the moment you kiss each other. You can see them behind your closed eyelids, vibrant colors bursting before you. His lips are so soft against yours, the way you’d imagined them to be on all of those restless nights spent tossing and turning and yearning in your bed.

When you pull away, you can hear your heartbeat loud in your ears. His eyes are huge and bright, like the galaxies up above shrunk down to fit inside his dark irises. Neither of you know what to say at first, and it’s silent until you both erupt into a fit of giggles. His hands are warm when they take yours, letting his thumbs run over your knuckles.

“Can we please do that again?” he asks, a sweet smirk tugging at one corner of his pretty mouth.

In lieu of a verbal response, you simply lean back into him, kissing him harder this time. Far more sure of yourself. His hands find your waist, holding you so softly. You'd be perfectly content staying in this moment forever, fireflies twinkling in the grass surrounding you as your mouth moves slowly against Eddie's.

There’s no awkwardness, not a single hint of doubt pooling in your gut. His hands feel like they were made to hold you and his lips slot with yours like they were molded to fit together. This time it's him who pulls away, a boyish grin spreading across his face.

“Would you look at that,” he says. “Wishes really do come true.”

“Should we go talk to Steve about yours?” you tease, letting your nose brush against his.

A puff of air leaves his nose, a quiet laugh. "Nah, I'm good with this."

“Me too.”

When he eases you down onto the blanket, his weight on top of yours as he kisses you breathless, you have no complaints. The stars twinkle down at you, and everything is perfect.

[bumblequinn]

hi @sourpatchsquids! thank you for your question.

as an artist with ADHD, i know this struggle very well. unfortunately offering advice on this kind of thing can be tricky, because what works for me may not work for you (and vice versa!). nonetheless, i can try; take whatever works for you, forget the rest, or reshape any part of it as you see fit. :)

but before i offer any actual tools, i have one caveat. i want you to take a moment to reflect and consider if you should be:

changing expectations

the timing of this question seems fated, because just the other day i had a therapy session wherein i expressed my grief and frustration over struggling to work lately due to my seasonal depression. it's not fair that i'm struggling just because it got a little darker outside! i just want the spark i had in the summer! i was so much more consistent!

my therapist's response: nothing about human beings is consistent. we get sick, we get tired, we get hungry and thirsty (and thirsty) and sad and lonely and restless and stressed and overwhelmed. this all gets amplified for folks who are atypical in some way or another.

when my therapist compared our seasonal cycles to those of plants and other animals, who wilt and slow down and hibernate, i protested aloud that i wanted to be a perennial instead. at this she said: even perennials change with the seasons. rose bushes have to be pruned, sometimes down to half their height! it was a dose of perspective i didn't particularly want, but really needed.

so when you're struggling to work through executive dysfunction, burnout, or brain fog, it can help to first check in with yourself about a few things. what do you have the capacity for right now? do you need any accommodation? and if so, what changes you might make to accommodate yourself?

with practice and self reflection, i've learned a handful of specific routines that help me when i'm struggling with creative work, which i'll detail next. note that while your question is specifically about music and i am specifically a musician, i believe that all of these suggestions can apply to most any form of digital creative work.

with that in mind:

#1: work slower

when i'm at the top of my game, i can get a LOT done in a day. but when i'm depressed, fatigued, or distracted, i just can't go full steam. sometimes i'll try to convince myself that i can if i just push harder, but what actually ends up happening is that i'm just fiddling with settings and going in circles rather than moving forward.

instead of that, when i want to work a lot but can't, i try to work slow. how slow? however slow i need to. take four hours to figure out the melody for a single verse. take all day to figure out that drum groove. yeah, i take a lot of breaks in between. who says i have to be my Absolute Most Productive Every Day Or Else? that's the puritan work ethic talking. kill it. be kind to yourself.

i'm reminded of advice i once read about some super successful and prolific author (gaiman? king? pratchett?) who said they wrote only four hundred words every weekday. that's already less than the word count of this post, and i'm only—[travels into the future to check my final word count]... 22.8% of the way through writing it!

now, i don't think i could function that way, because ADHD means some days i'm hyperfocused like crazy, and other days i just have no steam at all (more on that in #4-6). but it seems to me that if even someone highly respected in their profession can achieve what they have with only a little bit of work on a regular basis, maybe i don't have to punish myself for not pumping out a finished work every single week.

doing less work per day means you're much less likely to burn out, which does a lot for working more consistently. if that consistency still doesn't look like a five-day work week, that's okay! as long as it helps you work even a little more often when you want to, it's something worth doing.

however, if you're still feeling truly stuck, all hope isn't lost. you can still try:

#2: switch projects

sometimes the reason i'm moving slow is because of a bad brain day, but sometimes the reason is that i just cannot muster the motivation to do the specific task i'm trying to do right now. ADHD is fueled by novelty and interest, and if i'm not interested in what i'm doing, or it's feeling stale, that's a sign that i need to switch gears.

this is why first it's helpful for me to have more than one project going at a time. this might mean completely unrelated works, or it might just mean related tracks as with the music for a game like SLARPG or susan taxpayer.

the idea here is not to start a dozen different projects and bounce around them like i'm playing whac-a-mole—though i have done that. (i don't recommend it.) the idea here is to have a manageable number of different projects i can be working on so that if i get bored or stuck on something, i have fallback options.

what that number of projects is depends entirely on the week. maybe right now it's two, maybe another time it's three. i would probably be getting carried away if i tried more than that, but that's just my own limit. maybe yours is different. that's something for you to think about.

but it doesn't have to stop there.

#3: switch focus

maybe there is this one project that i just HAVE to work on, but the task i'm trying to do at this stage just isn't coming to me. okay, well, why don't i try working on a different task?

let's say i can't figure out what i want to do with the melody in one part of the song:

what if i try jumping ahead to a different part of the melody? ...no, i'm stumped on melodies today. okay, how about working on the drums instead? ...hmm no, i think i'm just completely tapped out on writing parts right now. alright, what if i organized my tracks, making sure they're all grouped and named in a way that i can work with easily? what if i did a rough volume balance for the mix?

and so on. if that's not enough to shake the off stuckness, i might consider: what can i do to make this project more interesting to me?

what happens if i try using an instrument or effect that i almost never reach for? what if i try sampling something obscure? what if i bang out the drums using my midi keyboard instead of drawing it in on the piano roll?

any approach that breaks me out of my usual habits is bound to get that feeling of novelty and fun back when i need it.

or maybe i can't do any of that right now, and so i take the time to answer a question from a fellow musician instead. i consider that part of my work, too, in a broader sense. check in with yourself and figure out what you can do right now. the rest will still be there later.

but okay, let's say you try switching gears, and switching again, and again, and nothing is moving. you try new approaches, but that wall of awful is insurmountable in this moment. it happens! the next thing you might try is:

#4: learn something new

when you aren't able to make progress on your projects, you can still make progress on your knowledge and craft. i often find this stokes a flame of inspiration in me where there wasn't one before. and even when it doesn't, it still gets my brain out of that feeling of stuckness and dread and into one of thought and action. learning also benefits in the long term because it adds to the well of knowledge from which you draw for all your future works.

for all the awfulness that exists on the internet, it remains an absolute treasure trove of teaching. there's an endless ocean of videos, blog posts, and articles from which you might learn something about your craft. (and if you sail the seven seas, plenty of book PDFs as well. 🦜🏴‍☠️)

it's true that the quality and depth of information out there can vary wildly, but in my experience most resources get at least some things right. and the more you research, practice, and figure out what works for you, the better you will learn to differentiate between the advice worth keeping, and the advice to forget. (that goes for all of what i'm saying here, too!)

that said, since our shared focus is music, a few resources i would highly recommend are:

music theory and composition music matters, 12tone, charles cornell, music with myles, 8-bit music theory, and this introduction by andrew huang

mixing and production dan worrall (especially this series for fabfilter), kush after hours, red means recording, andrew huang, alice yalcin efe, in the mix

general inspiration nahre sol, ben levin, david hilowitz, game score fanfare, posy, jerobeam fenderson, open reel ensemble, and ELECTRONICOS FANTASTICOS!

(if any readers have their own helpful resources for creating music or any other media, feel free to share in the replies & reblogs! 💓)

of course, on an especially bad day, it might be a challenge to seek out information, let alone retain it. that can feel pretty bad, but remember: be kind to yourself. the next thing you might consider trying is:

#5: consume art you love

not just music. books. shows. movies. games. illustration. animation. whatever moves and inspires you.

but do it intentionally. don't just pull up some random thing the algorithm suggested! check in with yourself about what you want (or are able) to engage with right now. choose accordingly. if you get a little way into it and realize it's not scratching that itch, hit the bricks. check in with yourself again. wash, rinse, repeat, until you find whatever it is that speaks to you right now.

and do it actively, if you can. don't just let it go in one eye and out the other! really pay attention to the work. what do you like about it? what are its themes and motifs? what makes it work so well? what are its flaws, and how much do they matter? what might you do differently? you can write notes as you do this if it helps, but even simply noticing and thinking goes a long way.

what you don't want to do is come at this with a lens of shame or envy. you're not here just to say to yourself, "ugh, if only i could do THAT." it's okay if it happens. use that thought as a springboard for curiosity: "well okay, how DID they do that? do i have the resources for it? if so, how could i apply that to my own work? if not, how can i adapt it, or what do i need to learn?" keep your mind open and approach the work with a sense of wonder.

as a creative person, it's very easy to think, "i should be making something right now, not watching a movie!" but that thought forgets something vital: your art is a response in a conversation. of course the "language" you use is your own, and maybe if you're lucky you'll invent a new word. but most of the words you use have been around long before you were born. you're just one voice in a dialogue that spans continents and generations, and that's okay. it's even the whole point.

none of us is an island. we are profoundly social animals. just as we can't live without eating, we can't make without learning. so half of making art is consuming it. consider this part of the process as well.

and finally,

#6: rest, and live your life

let's say you're in really dire straits. you've tried working slower. you tried changing focus, you tried changing projects. you want to take in new information or actively engage with your favorite art, but you're not in the headspace for it. what now?

take a nap. take a walk. take a shower. eat a nice meal, or an okay one. talk to a friend. maybe even do that chore you've been putting off (you know the one).

it's human to always crave making, but you're not a machine—and even if you were, machines need regular maintenance, too! you wouldn't drive a car that's completely out of gas, and you won't do yourself any favors treating your body that way either.

i know that when you take a break it feels as though you're not accomplishing anything, but you are: you're taking care of your animal self. and while you do that, your creative brain doesn't stop working! much like windows, it has countless background processes running at any given moment, with inscrutable names like "cbdhsvc_692da" or "Microsoft Edge Update Service." it's true, i checked.

when you're stuck on a project and you step away to rest, your brain is still chipping away at your ideas unconsciously. i like to tell people, "it's percolating." much like waiting for a pot of water to boil, that idea is still heating up, even when you take a step away. just be sure to check in on it once in a while. the time will pass, and it'll be boiling again before long. :)

before i go, i'll leave you with one last thing to keep in mind as you try all of these strategies:

be kind to yourself.

being human is just about one of the hardest things you can do. let alone being a human trying to survive capitalism while living with disabilities! the last thing you need on top of that is to overwork yourself, talk to yourself negatively, or treat yourself harshly. there are plenty of other people in the world who do that to you—don't be one of them.

i'm not saying that you shouldn't try to challenge yourself, to test your limits and go above and beyond your ambitions, if that's what you want to do. just remember that hard work and self compassion are not mutually exclusive. so be careful not to bully yourself. take pride in the progress you make, even when it seems small. encourage yourself like you would a friend who's going through a hard time. and when you challenge yourself, be your own cheerleader.

i hope you find this advice helpful! remember, this is just what helps me, so don't feel like you have to follow any of it exactly. maybe taking time to learn new information helps break you out of your rut more than working slowly, so you reach for that tool first. maybe having multiple projects going at once is too distracting for you, so you prefer to stick to one at a time. whatever your needs are, feel free to alter and adapt these ideas to fit you.

thank you for reading, and i wish you the best of luck in your creating.

with care, bee 🐦