#ANYWAY guess who's been writing ;) like at least one reply a day ;)))) which is a lot for me at this point fkdhfhdsajfls

[ladyseidr]

legally requiring one of you to write a jc.s muse (or a related muse) with my jud.as because otherwise i’m going to start writing and posting short fics and do you really want me to become a person who writes jud.as fanfiction? 

#.tbd. #J C S / #this is a joke obviously #...especially because you can't stop me from posting at least one short fic because i've already been writing RIP #100% posting it on my old ao.3 so that only that account gets shamed KFHDSKFHFDS #anyway i want to write with jc.s or related muses #but also i unironically think 'mythological figures shit-talk together abt their respective myths' #would be fucking hilarious #just because ju.das would have big 'that's rough buddy' energy #like does it make any logical sense? no. is it practically a crack idea? yes. do i still think it'd be way too fun? hell yes. #ANYWAY guess who's been writing ;) like at least one reply a day ;)))) which is a lot for me at this point fkdhfhdsajfls #i'm v happy to be back to rping!!! and i'm slowly getting back into the swing of things #☽—— ⸢ ooc ⸥

[9w1ft]

I'm a gaylor myself so this isn't coming from a place of hate but I really don't think karlie and taylor are still together, I think taylor still references her in her art and probably will for quite some time because that relationship -- whatever the nature of it was -- left such a deep impact on her. but I really can't see them still being together, I think she's forced herself to move on from karlie and has since dated a lot of other women. that doesn't mean her feelings for karlie have faded, just that they will probably always be there but they broke up for sure before 2019, I think. folklore and evermore, midnights even, are all breakup albums, I just can't see how they could still be together. especially all her anger and sadness in those songs that are thought of to be for karlie (like my tears ricochet or exile or mad woman) also the cover art being shoot in bedfords, new york, the exact same place where karlie got married feels more like taylor revisiting this place to really say goodbye and mourn her for one last final time so she can move on

sorry, this got a bit long, I just don't understand the appeal or the reasoning for lsk's because taylor has indicated so many times that they are over, she's been mourning her relationship with karlie quite publicly since 2019 (wearing all black during the lover era) so yeah

hi! i don’t usually respond to these but i’m not sensing any ill will so i’ve decided to give a reply a go.

first off, for me, i kinda just interpret her wearing black in the back end of lover era because her masters had gotten bought by scooter. and maybe the fact that she decided to not come out. there can be other reasons, but i really do not think that her breaking up with karlie has to be one of them.

another thing i can’t shake is the fact that it was a very notorious troll/manipulative person on tumblr who spread the first rumor that they broke up in 2019, a fact that is well understood by a lot of OG’s, and this troll got in the head of a few popular kaylor and gaylor swift accounts at the time and in doing so she got a lot of people to fold. she then went on to write all this progressively unhinged fanfiction about taylor and karlie trying to make one another jealous and sleeping with all these women, presented with the same level of seriousness with which she pushed the breakup agenda. even to this day, i see present day gaylors talk about stuff that stems from narratives this account and a few other power hungry accounts spread around many years ago and it honestly just goes to show how a lot of well known gaylors may be platformmed up but that don’t really know what they’re talking about.. i only write this because the troll deactivated about a year ago (maybe they’re lurking on platforms with more malleable minds—once a troll always a troll—but at least they’ve left here), they were a really dangerous person.. and several have wild receipts to prove it.

anyways sorry i recognize that’s a tangent, i guess what i mean to say by it is, a lot of the sentiment surrounding the idea of a 2019 breakup and the reinforcement of the narrative by a gaylor community none the wiser stems from the work of someone with disingenuous intentions. a lot of “masterposts” or “realistic timelines” draw from what this person made up and it’s gone through enough filters for it to seem like credible sentiment but like, if you were there and you read all of what she wrote you know how silly it all sounded and how incoherently it was all written.

okay so to circle back to more of a content-centric angle, in my interpretation of the events that gave us folklore, evermore, and midnights, taylor had so much to be sad about. her mom had been very sick, the pandemic arrived and she had to cancel lover fest, she had to come to terms with scott b having sold her work to her sworn enemy… songs on midnights and folklore, and on her lover era apple music playlist allude to certain other things that may have had her in a mournful mood. things were bad! and i don’t doubt that her and karlie have been through a lot. but for me, when you’ve got a ride or die love, you don’t just break up. this has been something frustrating for me and others, i think, to see so many people treat a relationship as either being all systems go or broken up, as if long term partners can’t experience sadness together, difficulty together, even heartbreak together.

i don’t like getting in to touchy subjects so much but there’s just been too much pointing towards what i consider to be a rather simple narrative that is a natural progression for people committed and in love. how did the lover music video begin and end? whats a randomly specific word in a song she performed at the grammys minutes after someone was announced to the world? what about taylor’s envisioned future stands out about the anti hero music video? i think i’ll stop here but idk man 😆 poke around my archive if you feel like wasting a few days of your life… there’s just been a consistent flow of the same kind of hijinks that we’ve seen from them for years, and i’d say that there are many songs that back up everything i’d want in order to stay invested in seeing if what i believe is true.

now, i know i just wrote what reads like a bunch of mumbo jumbo to people not following kaylor. but im okay with that. i’ve accepted that. and i know that the whole patterns and koincidences and twinning and symbolism beat isn’t for everyone and so i respect people’s decisions to believe they aren’t together, but in closing i’ll just say im sometimes at a loss to see time and time again people suggest that kaylors believe in kaylor because they find it appealing or because they want to ship it. when it’s literally not that— it just makes the most sense to a lot of us!

also, does this look like the face of someone mourning?

[the-dixon-effect]

When you know, you know Part 1

A/N: my first ever fic! i was excited to write this as i have only ever written poetry and short stories and i wanted to do something TWD-related and also write about bae daryl dixon.

pairing: Daryl Dixon x reader

words: 1.2k

warnings: very angsty!

update: you can now find part 2 here!

The two of you sat with your backs up against the wall, simply enjoying each other's presence. Despite Daryl's familiar company, you couldn't shake the same feeling you'd had since you'd known about Leah - the same pang of jealousy, the same slight disappointment. You and Daryl were best friends, it had never gone beyond that. However, you couldn't help but imagine yourself in his arms, waking up next to him every day, hands draped around his neck, perfectly intertwined. You supposed that you two would sort of just end up together one day, and life would go on as normal, whatever that 'normal' might be.

That was all until Daryl went away, looking for Rick after he disappeared. Time seemed to go by slower without him by your side, as he always used to be. This emptiness didn't go unnoticed by you, who secretly yearned for his presence in your life again. Evenings spent together with a bottle of whiskey and warm company turned into monthly conversations over the bank of a river, and daily interactions turned into occasional letters, begging him to come home. What you hadn't thought of, however, was the possibility that he had found someone else out there, someone who took care of him in ways you couldn't, in ways you wished you could.

You sat, observing the cabin in which Daryl and Leah had shared.

"What colour was her hair?" you said, breaking the silence, with the slightest smile shaping the curve of your lips.

"... it was red. Why'd ya ask?" he said in his low tone.

"Don't know. Just tryna picture the bitch who stole my best friend," you said with a slight giggle. He smiled at this. Daryl sorely regretted leaving you and he wished that he could tell you, or make it up to you somehow.

There was silence for a moment. "What if you came back home and I was with someone else?" you began with bravery.

"What- what are ya asking me?" Daryl replied.

"What if- what if you came back and I was gone? Or dead?" He turned to look at you, hair falling over his eyes and his brows furrowed. His heart sank at the thought of losing you, but he had to say something now or else he might just lose you by ruining your relationship. Perhaps he had underestimated how much you missed him while he was gone, he didn't believe anyone was capable of missing him as much as you seemed to.

"I- I dunno. I guess I woulda blamed myself." It was his fault. Shit. It could've been his fault. The realisation that you could've died and he wasn't there to protect you suddenly clouded his thoughts, and the guilt of leaving you behind consumed him.

"But it wasn't your fault. I know how you always blame yourself, for everything, but this time, it wouldn't have been your fault, Daryl. Because you weren't there." Your eyes had glassed over, and the pit in your stomach rose again, like it had done every time over those six long years that you were reminded of Daryl's absence. You were resentful, and angry at him for leaving, you had every right to be. Maybe it wasn't that he'd left. Maybe you were simply jealous that he'd found someone better.

He'd gone quiet, and the warm atmosphere had faded. He wanted to defend himself, he wanted to defend Leah and the times they'd had together, but a part of Daryl knew he couldn't speak it out loud, not to you, anyway. Despite his fond memories of her, Leah had left him, leaving no good reason why, either. For now, he wanted to be right here with you, but he didn't want to have to explain himself, not like this. But how could you forgive him. How could you two just pick up where you left off, and expect to build your relationship from there without at least addressing the six-year-gap that was filled with only heartache and discomfort? "I missed you. I really, really missed you, Daryl. Like, I had to shape my life around this empty space that you left, for six years!" Daryl was in disbelief at your words. His heart was sinking in real time and there was nothing he could do to go and change the past. How could he have done this to you?

You couldn't meet his eyes. All the emotion that you had felt since he left was coming out and there were now tears staining your cheeks. It almost felt like he didn't care, yet you could sense he did. Daryl was never all that brilliant with words, but in this moment, they failed him completely.

"Ya mean that?" he spoke, quietly.

"What, you think I'm just saying what you wanna hear? 'Cause I don't know what you wanna hear, Daryl!" In this moment, it was like every thought you'd ever had about Daryl was going to come out, and it was getting harder and harder to stop yourself. "I never know what you wanna hear! Hell, I thought you forgot about me. So tell me, what do you wanna hear?" You looked at him, for the first time in a while. He stared back, blankly.

What you didn't know is that he felt the exact same, that he'd made the biggest mistake of his life. And for the best part of six years, he wished he was at home, with you, where he should have been.

"I'm in love with you, Daryl, come home and start a family with me." You said, sarcastically, as though you were mocking the very part of you that wanted to say those things. You swiftly wiped away your tears and collected yourself.

A thought popped into his head. His eyes lingered on your face as you broke the eye-contact and looked down at your fingers, which you fiddled with for a moment before he broke the silence,

“An’ what about those times where I had to sit and watch?” he began defensively, yet still as soft as before.

“What do you mean?”

“Ya know what I mean. Shane, Aidan. When you and your little boyfriends went frolickin’ ‘bout the place like nothin’ mattered,” Daryl had remembered the times he almost felt sick to his stomach having to watch you parade about alongside your latest romantic interest.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Daryl.”

“Ya know what I’m talking about jus’ fine.” Oh.

Oh.

Daryl had been just as jealous as you were.

He could almost see the cogs turning in your head. He had mentioned Shane, who you had been involved with a long, long time ago. How long had Daryl felt this way?

You looked up him, at a loss for words. Such a strange feeling choked the air, and you suddenly felt a little sick. “Daryl, I’m sorry. I have to go to bed.” You got up off floor and the left the dusty living room to find yourself any space where you couldn’t feel his eyes on you from across the room. This was certainly not the way your love confession was supposed to go, you thought to yourself.

#brandy writes #daryl dixon #the walking dead #twd #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon smut #daryl x you #daryl x y/n #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl x reader

[tenpintsof-sundrop]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💗

Thank you so much for sending me this!

I am proud of so many of my fics and I'm not even fully sure how to go about this, so... I guess I will just make one rec from each of the fandoms I have written for?

(Warning for some blood in gifs below - but generally there is blood and violence in this fics anyway, so...)

From DC Titans:

No Place Like Home on AO3 - Gar Logan x Fem!Powered!Disabled!Reader x Jason Todd. Friends to Lovers. (Poly Soulmates). Smut, Angst, Hurt and Comfort with a Happy Ending. 90k across 7 chapters. When Jason leaves the Titans broken and battered, he gets set on a dangerous path. It's up to you and Gar, the two people who care about him the most, to bring him home.

Oh, another day on the assembly line, everybody better march in time,

Cause the factory don't care why, you been sayin' coulda, shoulda, woulda.

(There's no place like home. There's no place like home.)

If I could recommend one singular fic and say 'this fic encapsulates my style and summarises everything I am proud of when it comes to writing fanfiction' - this would be it.

I have so much to say about this fic and a lot of it I probably have already said it - but basically, this fic is the reason I started writing. I started writing long before I actually wrote this fic, but everything I have ever sought in terms of creative satisfaction came from this fic. This feels like my orgasmic climax in terms of creating things.

And if this fic is something I could be buried with, I would be proud. If this fic is something that people remember me for, I would be so fucking proud. (Which is not likely, because it's from a very small fandom and I know people are gonna remember me for fics from bigger fandoms that are way more popular, and I wish I could shove this fic in the faces of people who read my other popular fics and make them read it lmao.)

If for some reason I had to quit writing right now - I would be most proud of this singular piece. Especially because so much of this fic, the characters, and the dynamics has been inspired by my real life relationship with my lovers, and the reader character was inspired by my struggle with disability and coping with the loss of control as I became more disabled over time - but having my lovers there for me made that loss of control easier to swallow. It's about how trauma can ruin you and letting someone love you when you are broken is one of the hardest things you can do, but one of the most radical and most rewarding. If you ever liked my writing and my style, even if you don't like Titans - please go and read this.

From The Walking Dead:

(I know this gif is sad but it fits the fic so well.)

Hold Me Tight Or Don't on AO3 - Glenn Rhee x Fem!Reader x Maggie Greene. Established Poly Relationship. Smut and Heavy Angst (No Happy Ending). Set during Season 3, Episode 4. 7k (Oneshot). You are bitten by a Walker while trying to help get Glenn and Maggie to safety, and you are facing your last hours of life. And in those last hours, you only have one wish - to have sex with your partners one last time. Luckily for you, they would do anything for you, and they can’t help but to oblige.

Oh no this isn't how our story ends,

So hold me tight, hold me tight. (Or don't.)

This fic has had some more attention lately, since I have been wanting to write for The Walking Dead again, and I just really want to re-state - I fucking love this fic. This idea came to me so randomly and struck me like lighting and I am so happy that this fic came to fruition. This fic represents so many things that I am excited about writing - poly relationships, relating the themes of sex and death, sad endings (I weirdly prefer writing sad or melancholic endings instead of traditional happy ones).

I am really proud of this fic. If you can handle angst, you should go read it.

From Criminal Minds:

From Your Lips on Tumblr - Jennifer Jareau x GN!Reader. Established Relationship. Smut, Hurt and Comfort. Set during Season 2, Episode 15. 3k (Oneshot). After JJ is attacked by dogs on the Hankel farm, you take the time to check on her and distract her flustered mind with a loving touch.

So, most of my Criminal Minds fics have done really well and don't need to be recommended just because it's a really popular fandom, but JJ fics don't really do well? Idk why she's not a popular character?

But I love this fic. I had so much fun working on this fic, and working in the religious references and imagery from the show - this fic was just so much fun for me. And I think it needs more love.

From The Last of Us:

IFHY (I Fucking Hate You) on AO3 - Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader. Enemies with Benefits. Smut and Angst. Set during the main events of Part II. 8k (Oneshot). You and Abby truly hate each other. So when you find Abby handcuffed inside an elevator, instead of being kind and just letting her out, you make her pay a certain price for the key.

I fucking hate you - but I love you.

I'm bad at keeping my emotions bubbled.

You're good at being perfect, we're good at being troubled.

There are so many fics from TLOU that I loved writing and that I'm really proud of, but this one really caught my eye on the list. I love writing about conflict, and I really love writing reader characters who are so bitchy and just cause conflict. (Maybe it's because I'm so nice irl and I never cause conflict, I get out all my internal chaos in writing characters who shit disturb and cause chaos all the time.)

I loved writing this because it's so non-traditional. It's not sappy, it's not romantic - again, it has a really melancholic ending. The characters are so toxic for each other (which is also something I love writing - because it's horrible for relationships irl, but for fiction it's so interesting to explore and observe).

I think this is one of my best, most interesting fics and I really loved doing it.

From Harry Potter:

King For A Day on Tumblr - Poly!Golden Trio x Fem!Reader. (Fem!Reader x Ron Weasley, Harry Potter, and Hermione Granger). FWB to Poly Lovers. Smut (with slight Angst). Set during Deathly Hallows. 22k (Oneshot). While Horcrux Hunting with your closest friends, the dangerous influence of Slytherin’s Locket causes Ron to snap. And it turns out - he brings on something that everyone in the tent really needed.

You told me think about it - well I did.

Now I don't wanna feel a thing anymore.

I'm tired of beggin' for the things that I want.

I'm over sleepin' like a dog on the floor.

Imagine living like a King someday - a single night without a ghost in the walls.

I have spoken about this fic at length, and how this was a spirtual awaken for me - if No Place Like Home was a culmination of everything I am as an artist, then this fic is an echo of those things. Again, I fucking love writing about poly relationships - and I think this fic has one thing that was missing from No Place Like Home. And that is exploring each individual thread of a poly relationship and how someone interacts with each person in the relationship outside of the poly group functioning as a whole. That is definitely a strong suit of this fic.

Also it's amazing filthy nasty smut, which is something I love writing, and something I am really talented at.

From Stranger Things:

I'm Still Standing on AO3 - Nancy Wheeler x Fem Disabled/Chronically Ill Reader. Best Friends to Lovers. Angst, Smut, (slight Fluff). Hurt and Comfort. Happy Ending. Set during Season 4. 37k across 3 chapters. You start having horrible waking nightmares, but you don’t want to worry your best friend Nancy by telling her. She’s already occupied trying to chase down a trans-dimensional killer wizard, and you are convinced that the two problems aren’t possibly related.

There's a cold and lonely light that shines from you,

And you wind up like the wreck you hide, behind that mask you use.

This fic is so interesting.

I wrote this fic shortly after Season 4 came out - and even though I had a few fics for Stranger Things that were pretty popular, everyone just collectively ignored this one? And I know for a fact that it is because Nancy is the love interest. I know that if I had picked Steve or Eddie as the love interest for this fic, then this fic would be just as popular as my other ST fics - but because the subject matter is so deeply personal, I connected with the scenes of Nancy kicking ass at the hospital and worked from there.

(And tbh, if I had to choose a male love interest for this concept, I probably would have chosen Billy, because I relate to him on so many deep personal levels.)

Literally everything in this fic is very personal to me - this is all about my own raw traumas. From the abusive father to the extreme medical trauma to the strained caretaker mother, to the older sister who distances herself from it all - even though this is set in the universe of Stranger Things - this is the story of my life. And idk if I would have wanted it to be a more popular fic, because it is so personal? But I am upset that I worked so hard on it and so many parts of it are so raw, and nobody really saw it. I am upset that I had the bravery to post something so personal and it was just - crickets.

There are so many parts of this fic that I am so insanely proud of. The horror sequences are something that I worked so hard on - not just with the emotion of translating my own trauma, but I wanted to make something honestly scary and I wanted to pay tribute to the tension and emotion and visuals of all my favourite horror media - including Stranger Things and the beautifully tense horror aspects of Season 4. And this is another fic that I feel truly, absolutely represents me as a person to my core. And I feel like it's worth reading if you wanna know more about me and who I am.

(And lastly)

From misc. horror fandoms:

No Brainer on AO3 - Derek Cho (Steven Yeun) x Fem!Reader x Melanie Cross (Samara Weaving). Co-Workers to Lovers. Smut. Based on the film Mayhem from 2017. 7k (Oneshot). When you are the last person alive with an elevator key that Derek and Melanie desperately need, you agree to make a trade. Turns out, when what you're asking for is a threesome - you don't drive too hard of a bargain.

This is one of my favourite fics of all time. This is proof that I do not write for popularity - this fic is written for a fandom on AO3 with a total of five fics FIVE (including mine) and 2 of them are about characters from other media experiencing the plot of this movie as an AU, and mine is the only fic that is x reader. So I didn't just fill a niche - I looked where there was no niche and I dug a hole.

But like - Steven Yeun. Yes, I fell in love with Glenn from TWD, but this is a movie where he is also covered in blood, and rather than being Glenn's meek, reserved self (which I love) - he is outraged and swearing and killing and it makes me foam at the mouth. And I am already in love with Samara Weaving from The Babysitter - so this is literally a killer combination.

My bisexual ass did not even finish the film before I was typing out this fic on my phone.

And I am so happy that I wrote it - because sometimes you just need a self indulgent, blood covered smut.

And you guys can read it too if you want <3

#sundrop answers #fanfiction #mickisnotclever #my lovely moots #jason todd x reader #gar logan x reader #glenn rhee x reader #maggie greene x reader #jennifer jareau x reader #abby anderson x reader #ron weasley x reader #harry potter x reader #hermione granger x reader #nancy wheeler x reader #mayhem 2017

[artzee-bee]

Practice on me

Fandom: My babysitter's a vampire; Ethan Morgan x reader (platonic)

Summary: "Reader likes Benny the same way that Ethan likes Sarah, so naturally a bond forms between the two, where they vent their frustrations together! But everything changes when one day the reader and Ethan realize that Benny and Sarah both have kissing experience and they don't so they decide to practice with each other first" requesed by @tomesandrosebud

Genre: pure fluff

Warnings: none

A/N: really happy with this one actually. I just hope it doesn't sound too foolish cause I haven't kissed anyone either so I don't really know how to write about it in detail like that

~~~

Getting another can of coke was definitely not your smartest idea. The electric buzz of a sugar rush was now impossible to ignore, but Ethan had been so kind to lay all these snacks out for you which you really appreciated! “It’s just sorta frustrating, you know?” popping another m&m in your mouth “I mean honestly, it’s like none of the stuff I do for him even matters!” “Benny has never been the most…observant person” comes Ethan’s reply. He’s sprawled out across his bed, playing with old chocolate wrappers. “He thinks he can read people, but really he just comes up with his own idea of what’s happening and believes it fully!” You scoff almost instinctively. Yeah, you’ve heard this before! Almost anytime this conversation was to be had, this was one of the conclusions! God you were so tired of hearing it, but you knew it was true! “Honestly Ethan! I could not be more obvious if I wrote him a love poem and serenaded him before school! It’s not like I’m good at hiding my feelings!” “Yeah, you really suck….Ow, damnit Y/N! No need for violence!” “You earned that slap! Honestly I was being very kind to only do so much!” you crawl in the bed, laying an arm’s length away from him. “You are just as obvious about Sarah, by the way! You hypocrite!” Ethan did nothing but smile in response. He knew that all too well! It was something he’d grown so accustomed to, the feeling of being so exposed and yet so ignored when it came to his crush. He tried hiding it, he even tried dropping some hits as per your advice (‘If you’re gonna be obvious at least let it be intentional’) but somehow he remained just as invisible in front of Sarah. He knew you felt the same about Benny too! After so many late night phone calls and the occasional hangout in his room, he felt confident in saying you were both fools in love. All in all he appreciated this extra time he got to spend with you and the chance to vent his feelings away freely, but that doesn’t really lift the weight of unreciprocated love.

“You know she was on a date yesterday?” he hears himself before he processes what he’s saying. No need to specify who ‘she’ is anyways

“Yeah…she texted me and Erica on the groupchat. What, she told you too?” “Rory!” “Ah…that explains it…” A beat passes. You’ve grown accustomed to little silences like this. Sometimes it was best to just feel it out! “Did she say anything about him?” “Very messy eater, but apparently a good kisser. Said there probably won’t be a second date though!” You could practically feel the relief emanating off your friend, despite the somewhat cold tone of voice. “How can you even kiss someone after you see them with food all over their face like that?”

“I don’t know Ethan! This isn’t really my area of expertise! I guess when you’re Sarah, it doesn’t matter! When guys want to kiss you, it doesn’t matter!” your voice cracks ever so slightly with frustration, which peaks Ethan’s interest. What’s got you so worked up suddenly? “Maybe he wasn’t so bad afterall…” “Maybe!” Another silent moment “I’m not a messy eater, am I?” You laugh. After so many years of knowing him, sometimes it was still a mystery the way in which his wheels turned. “I wouldn’t say so.” Your simple answer prompted another comfortable silence. You reach for more candy, as Ethan plays with the strings of his hoodie, looking up at the ceiling.

“What are you thinking about?” “You girls…you talk about guys, right? Like you know when one of you has a crush and…that sort of thing”

“...yeah?” “So, hypothetically, if I were to ask you if you knew how many guys she’s kissed-” “Nah-uh! I’ll stop you right there sir!” “It’s a hypothetical!” “You’re overthinking!” an accusatory finger sits merely inches from his face now but he doesn’t seem bothered, pushing it away lightly. “It’s not that crazy of a question!” “You’re asking me to break the girl-code? You would never tell me how many girls Benny has kissed!” “I would!” he replies in a heartbeat. Now you’re both stuck in this unintentional staring contest, waiting to see who will crack first. It’s not like you believe a word out his mouth, but you still speak “It’s unhealthy! We shouldn’t talk about these kinds of things. It’s none of our business. Why would you even care about it?” “You’re saying you wouldn’t want to know Benny’s number?” he got you there. You just pop another candy in your mouth and he silently watches, deciding he needs to tell the truth “She just…probably has a lot of experience, doesn’t she?” This, for the first time in a long while, catches you off guard. You and Ethan have gone over the topic of your crushes more than you could count but this was a first. You weren’t sure what you could say.

“So does Benny, probably.” well that wasn’t the best thing, but Ethan doesn’t seem to notice

“Well so do you probably so it’s no big deal but I’ve never kissed a girl, Y/N! Never even came close! If I ever tried something with Sarah and it got to that point, I’d be a sure disappointment!” Now this has you turning around in bed to face him. The frustration and hurt in his voice is palpable but the roughness of his tone awakes your own feelings of dread and insecurity “Where did you even get the idea that I have kissing experience?” and E turns to look at you, genuinely confused

“You don’t?” “No! What? E, when have I ever told you about me kissing a guy?!” “I don’t know! I assumed you wouldn’t want to tell me that!” “Why?” “I don’t know Y/n! I was wrong, ok? Gee!” the irritation turns into a bit of an awkward laugh, as he processes where the conversation actually landed, and you laugh too! That’s the best that you’ve got, but it helps! Neither of you are so tense when Ethan speaks again. “So you’ve never kissed anyone either?” and you shake your head in solidarity “Oh…I see. Why not?” “I guess…I just never got the opportunity?” you reply honestly “And then I got a little insecure about it and then I got the hots for Bens and that’s that! Now we’re here!” Ethan chuckles softly at your explanation. “I understand. I’m in the same boat here!” “We’re always on the same boat E! Really, this whole thing is sounding more and more like a joke!” you both share a laugh The idea came to you pretty naturally. At first it made you laugh but after thinking about it a moment longer, you began to consider maybe it wasn’t so bad? Maybe this was actually what you both needed! You feel so comfortable with E, you don’t spare another moment before sharing

“What if we kissed?”

You didn’t think ahead on how to properly phrase it, or how Ethan would react, but you assumed the shell shocked look and the oblivious ‘huh?!’ he gave you were probably appropriate. Ethan sits up in bed, looking down at you as if you had gone mental. You’ve said many out of pocket things across the years but this one got the biggest reaction. It almost makes you laugh. “I mean, to practice!” “Come again?”

Now you sit up as well, trying to drive your point home! “Neither of us have had our first kiss! Most people our age have! So if we try to do it with anyone else, it might be awkward! We can just kiss each other and get it over with!”

“Get it over with?” he seemed to consider, which really just made you push a little harder

“Yeah! I mean we’re friends! We trust each other! It doesn’t have to mean anything and if it turns out awful then at least we know that doesn’t change anything between us!”

Ethan seems to be deep in thought. You understand, of course, how unconventional your proposal is but it was too late now. The offer was on the table! You didn’t exactly regret it but you could feel your nerves twisting and turning in your gut. All the sugar you ingested definitely didn’t help…

“Okay!” You thought you must have misheard him! “I’m sorry?”

“Okay!”

“Okay?”

“...yeah…”

“O-Okay…”

Now this was really awkward! You hadn’t exactly thought he would agree so quickly but then again, Ethan was a calculated person. He must have seen and understood all the benefits, just like you did. Shyly, he turns a little more to the right, facing you completely. He’s looking at his hands for a moment, before shifting forward. You follow his lead, moving the tiniest bit closer to him. Now, with your knees touching, you were starting to be really nervous. “Um…should I…go for it? It’s kinda the man’s job to take the lead, no?” you can tell from his voice that he’s just as nervous as you

“That’s kinda old fashioned!” you try to laugh, hoping to release the tension, which helps the smallest bit, as he chuckles “You can if you want!” “Where do I put my hands?” he’s looking down at his palms as if he’s just stepped in a human body for the first time. You’re not really sure of the answer but you’ve watched a good amount of romance movies! Your hands grab his tenderly, bringing them to your waist. He doesn’t hesitate, or pull away, just latches on with an iron grip, but you don’t comment on it. You try to hook your arms around his neck, but the position feels awkward when you’re both sat on the bed, so you pull away and rest them on your knees. His knees. Nope, yours were better!

Ethan waits patiently for you as you figure out the logistics of all this! He looks transfixed and you knew he was internally freaking out, just like you. Finally, you move a tad bit closer, which gives Ethan the opportunity to lean in, stopping barely centimeters away from your face. You could feel his breathing on your lips. “You’re okay with this?” you ask once again

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Let’s just do a small peck at first!” “Okay!”

It happens in a flash. It takes one second for his consent to register and then his lips are on yours for the briefest moment. It felt nice. Well it wasn’t anything scary or intimidating, just a little peck! It was nice and warm and soft. It makes you feel a lot better about what’s going on. You move away just a little bit to examine Ethan’s response and he seems to have relaxed as well. You don’t know what to say, so you just ask

“One more time?”

“Okay.” the tremor in his voice is gone and you lean in to place a quick kiss on his lips again. It’s only a second, but it helps knowing that you did it! That you committed!

“A little longer?” you ask now, and Ethan just nods, taking a quick breath.

He leans in, pressing his lips to yours. Your right hand almost instinctively reaches up, barely grazing his jaw and his fingers dig even more into your sides. Right off the bet, this is a lot worse. Neither of you really know how to move, much less how to read each other's moves, so the kiss is sloppy and messy and all kinds of wrong and ridiculous. You are basically just pushing your faces together! You open your mouth ever so slightly, thinking that might help, and Ethan tries to follow your lead but once again, there’s no coordination. Now you’re even more acutely aware of the awkward position you’re both sitting in and you can’t help but imagine what a ridiculous scene you two make! Ethan smiles against your lips, and you know he’s thinking the same thing. Now you really can’t hold back your laughter, giggling against his lips!

“Stop!” he laughs as well, grabbing the sides of your face, but it definitely doesn’t help, as you burst out with laughter! He laughs too, leaning away and trying to cover his face with his arm

“We’re so awful!”

“That’s why I said we do it now!” Cue more laughter, your tummy honestly hurts at this point and you let yourself fall to the floor, clutching your abdomen.

“Come back here! We can’t just leave it at that!” Ethan reaches to grab the back of your shirt through tears of laughter, trying to yank you back on the bed but it doesn’t work. You won’t move! You can barely breathe! Instead he also crawls to his knees next to you.

“Come on Y/n! Let’s try one more time!” he’s still giggling as he says this, but you run your hands over your face, moving closer to him again. Compared to last time, now you know both of your nerves are completely gone. Looking at Ethan, he seems just as at ease as ever! You guys are best friends after all! And you’re having fun! As you’re kneeling on the floor, you cup his face with your palms, his own hands returning to your waist, now with a much kinder hold. He leans into you and you do as well. The kiss, this time, is a little more promising. You’re still struggling to synchronize, but at least it feels like you’re getting somewhere. It’s kinda nice, you think? It’s nice feeling so close to someone and it’s nice sharing a breath, but then you remember this is Ethan! This is your friend from middle school and the biggest nerd you’ve ever met and God knows you never thought you’d ever kiss him. The reality of it all has you giggling again and Ethan immediately shoves you back.

“Y/nnnnn!! This was your idea!!” but he’s laughing too, red in the face from the lack of oxygen and now you’ve both reached the point where everything is simply too funny! 

“What the hell are we doing?” you manage to say

“It was your idea!”

“It takes two to tango!”

“Y/n, no! Don’t say it like that!” and he’s laughing more, shoving you to the floor again, attempting to tackle you for your filthy mouth and you let him, not finding the strength to fight him off, try as you might! It takes a couple of minutes for both of you to completely calm down, which just leaves you both laying on the floor, catching your breath!

“But all in all” Ethan says “it wasn’t a very bad idea!”

“Wanna do it again?”

“I think I’m good!”

#mbav #mbav x reader #ethan morgan x reader #ethan morgan #ethan morgan imagine #ethan morgan fanfiction #ethan morgan fluff #my babysitters a vampire

[mirzamsaiph]

IT’S ME, I’M ALIVE, UR GIRL IS BACK FR FR. 

Okay, calming down now. Hi, how are you doing? I hope you’ve been good. I AM SO SORRY I haven’t commented on your new chapter releases, I’ve been having a rough time, year 12 is hard man, and I still have like two more terms of school after this one, and then university. I promise you I have read every chapter you’ve dropped, even if I haven’t commented. I’ve been lamenting for days on whether or not to send you an ask bcs like, ur my fav and ya know, it’s only fair I do bcs I follow you anyway lol but I also have no idea what to say, ur making me shy, damn. I’ve just been lurking in your Tumblr feed, liking all ur posts like a gremlin bcs sending an ask is too scary, (forgive me, for I am a coward). How long has it been since I last commented, I don’t even know 🙁.

I’m writing this as a draft in Google Docs in the middle of my maths double, who writes a draft for an ask? Me, I write drafts for asks apparently, yikes man. The maths part doesn't matter, I do not care for it.

I still love every single one of your chapters, ESPECIALLY THE READING THE BOOK ONES!! LIKE HELLO?!?!? POSEIDON FOR BEST FATHER!?!?! Sobbing, screaming, crying after reading that, I love the sea fam. Percy is so bbg too, like hold him in my hands and give him lil forehead kisses kinda bbg, so precious. AND just the campers, they're so cute, I love when Camp Half-Blood actually comes across as a family, or like an actual camp, the singing around the camp-fire is so wholesome, and Will being Percy's hype-man, like c'mon man, they're just best buddies, I love that for them.

It is deeply important to me that you understand just how much I love your fics, and just like ur content in general. When I get bored I always check my emails for updates or I go on ur Tumblr and just scroll, like I love u pookie, fr.

I’m just gonna send this as is, I’m psyching myself out over this hahah. I’ll try and get around to commenting on chapters again, especially one’s I’ve missed, and if I have time I might just start sending them via Tumblr. I need like somewhere to list everything I wanna talk abt in the comments.

Anyway, bye bye, see u soon.

Fun fact, in however long I’ve had Tumblr, this is my first ask :3

PS: I just realised I never put my name lol, it’s Smoll_Satan. This is my Tumblr account 👍.

OH MY GOD HELLO??? WELCOME BACK GIRL??? YOU HAVE BEEN MISSED TRUST 🤞🏻

I’m doing great, school is kicking my butt :( trying not fail this semester as the moment. Year 12 (which I’m taking a wild guess and saying that is junior year, in American terms) is known as the hardest and most stressful year, so no judgement here girlie!

Don’t fear girl! I’m not scary at all, I’m like the literal least intimidating person on the planet. I’m just a girl I promise. I saw you go through and like my posts and I was giggling everytime I got a notification bc that was really nice 😭

Writing in your docs is so real because I have done the EXACT same thing so many times, mostly bc I fear tumblr is gonna bug out on me ;( Also I hate math too, it irks my soul.

THANK YOU. POSEIDON IS GETTING HIS REDEMPTION ARK. TRUST ME. I was screaming writing that, i was just so surprised that I wrote that because I lovedddd it.

Will and Percy are best bro’s but Percy is ready to threaten him when he and Nico get together. Trust Percy is a protective older brother… (the singing was so sweet :(()

GIRL I LOVE YOU OH M GEE YOU’RE SO SWEET. I love seeing your comments, whilst you look for my chapters I go looking in my comments for your comment.

Don’t psych yourself out when it comes to Tumblr asks! I love them, like I find it so amazing. If you do comment trust I’ll be replying to each one, they are the source of my amusement for each chapter. (literally have cackled reading your commentary)

BYE! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

#girl your amazing #it’s the best part of posting my chapters is seeing long commenters like you #percy jackson #fanfiction #mir answers

[scarletsaphire]

Our Death Was The Start (Til Death Do Us Part) Chapter 2

I haven't slept yet so its still Wednesday which means this is on time. No one can tell me otherwise. Also almost none of this was planned but I really like writing the trio hanging out its just so much fun.

Chapter 1

The way the boy sat up was abrupt and immediate, on his feet before Danny could even blink. Danny did not react so quickly, or so gracefully, and instead tumbled to whatever constituted a floor in the voidscape of the dream. The boy’s gaze, which had been taking in the surrounding darkness, snapped to him quickly. Danny offered a sheepish smile from his place on the floor.

“You uh-” he floated back to his feet, his powers so much more responsive here. “You startled me.”

The boy made a noise that definitely wasn’t an apology, but Danny decided to take it as one anyway. “Where is this?”

Danny offered a shrug in response. “I’m not sure about the where. I don’t even really think it’s real. I’m asleep right now, I know that for certain, which makes this a dream.”

The boy narrowed his eyes at Danny, the mask following suit. “Well, its not a dream. Last I checked, I’m very much real.”

Danny returned the look back. “That sounds like something someone from a dream would say.”

“Yea? And what would someone who's not from a dream would say?” The boy switched from his east coast accent to mimicking Danny’s. “Oh yes this is all your dream Mr. Main Character! The whole world revolves around you!”

Danny rolled his eyes. “Yea, all of my friends say that every time I see them. Exactly that voice.”

The boy barked a quick laugh. “Well, that tells me I guess. Shows what I get for assuming.”

“Yea, it really does.” Danny extended a hand. “My name’s Danny. If you’re gonna keep showing up in my dreams, we might as well get to know each other.” The boy blinked, his mask moving with the motion, and wasn’t that an odd thing to look at? Danny stared back at the whites of the mask as the second extended into two, then three. “Are you gonna shake my hand or…?”

He shook his head quickly, and took Danny’s hand. “My name’s Jason. I just…” he trailed off, not breaking eye contact with Danny. “Your name sounded familiar.”

“Well, I have been talking to you for the better part of three weeks now. I’d hope that you remembered at least some of that. I’d hate to be talking to the void the entire time.”

Jason’s face contorted in a way that Danny was fairly certain meant he was raising his eyebrows. “Huh.”

“Huh what?” Danny asked.

“Now that you mention it, I do remember someone talking,” Jason said. “You say you’ve been talking to me for almost three weeks now? That means I’ve been unconscious for three weeks?”

“Well, you’ve been unconscious here for a little more than that. I just wasn’t talking to you before then,” Danny replied.

Jason’s brow furrowed in a look of concentration. “And why are you so sure its a dream, and not some room or something? Is there anything beyond all this?” He gestured around the abyss with his free hand.

“I wake up from it every day, so if its not a dream I have no idea what it is,” Danny replied. “And as for the other question…” He lifted his own free hand up to the back of his neck, scratching it anxiously. “Well, I never really looked.”

“You’re telling me you’ve been showing up in a mysterious black void, with someone you’ve never met before, and you just sat there?”

“What was I supposed to do?” Danny raised both of his hands in protest. Both his and Jason’s eyes went to their hands, still joined together, before they both hurriedly let go. Danny felt a cold blush travel across his cheeks, and pointedly tried to ignore it. “I wasn’t going to just leave you alone here. What if something happened? Or what if you woke up by yourself?” His words did not help his blush.

“Well,” Jason said. He cleared his throat into his hand before continuing. “I’m awake now, so do you want to take a look around?” Danny nodded.

It was odd, walking through the void. Danny figured it worked a bit like his intangibility and flight worked in his ghost form; if he thought he could walk on the floor, he could. If he thought the floor didn’t exist, or existed lower, it did. He was happy that he didn’t have to deal with that before he’d had a bit of practice with his powers. He didn’t want to make a fool of himself in front of Jason, especially since the other boy didn’t seem to have any issues with walking around.

They walked in comfortable silence for the first couple of minutes, until Danny eventually broke it. “So, what’s with the get up?”

Jason looked at him confused for a moment, before glancing down at himself and swearing. “Um. I’m a. Cosplayer?”

Even if the excuse hadn’t been a stuttered through, half baked answer, Danny knew he was lying. Something inside of him (That same something settled under his chest.) seemed to vibrate. He couldn’t explain how he knew that it meant that Jason was lying, but he did. “Uhuh. Do you want to try again with a little more honesty this time?”

Jason pointedly did not meet his eyes. “I’m not lying.”

Danny rolled his eyes. “Fine, fine, keep your secrets. I get it. At least tell me something else about yourself.”

“I like to read,” Jason said after a moment.

“Yea? Why’s that?”

“That’s an odd follow up question to that,” Jason ran a hand through his hair as he thought. “I guess it just wasn’t something I got to do a lot when I was younger. When I had to chance to, it was always peaceful, which is something I didn’t get a lot of.”

Danny nodded. “I can relate to that. It’s part of the reason I like the stars so much. It was one of the few times my parents would shut up about ghosts, was when we were out camping. The rest of the trip would be ghost hunting, of course, but the few hours before we actually went to sleep we’d just watch the stars as a family.”

“Ghosts, huh? Ever find any?”

“Unfortunately.” Danny sighed. “We never used to, of course, but then they finished their magnum opus, a portal to the Ghost Zone, and suddenly there’s ghosts everywhere. And you’ll never guess who gets to clean up all the messes.”

Jason tapped his chin in thought. “I’m going to take a wild guess and say that the vague memories I have of a lady throwing glowing green meat at you is not some fucked up game you played earlier?”

Danny laughed. “Bingo! Got it in one.”

The two continued to chat amicably as they walked through the void, conversation flowing easily between them even as their surroundings remained completely static. The conversation was cut off abruptly by the blaring sound of Danny’s alarm clock, and Jason’s face faded from his view as he opened bleary eyes to glare at it. He thought he heard the faint echoes of Jason’s voice in his ears, words indistinct under the beeping, and by the time he’d shut off the alarm, the voice had disappeared.

Danny yawned and ran a hand through his hair, before moving on with his day.

— Jason was floating cross legged, as Danny had done so many times before, when Danny fell asleep that night. Their eyes met, and Danny didn’t bother to suppress the smile that split his face.

“Given new information, I’m gonna have to double down on this not being a dream,” Jason said, straightening his legs so he was standing on the same plane as Danny was.

“Well hello Jason, it’s nice to see you again, how was your day?” Danny said, lacing his voice with as much sarcasm as he could muster. Given how shit his day had been, it was a lot.

“Considering I spent my whole day watching what I presume was yours? Not great.”

Danny pulled a face. “Can’t say it was one of my best days, but I’ve had worse.”

Jason snorted. “Well, I feel confident in saying that the wall you flew into probably hasn’t.”

“I’d be concerned if it had,” Danny sat down next to Jason. “So, what, because you saw my day you don’t think this is a dream? Is that what you’re getting at?”

Jason nodded. “Pretty much. If it was a dream, all of this would disappear as soon as you wake up, right? Well, I didn’t. So it's not a dream.”

“Well, maybe that’s what happens to dream people, did you ever think about that?” Danny retorted. “Maybe all the people from every dream just watch your life. Forever.”

“Cause that’s not ominous at all.”

“Yea, well, there’s been a lot of ominous information lately, who's to say this isn’t something else that can be added to the pile?” Danny asked.

Jason hummed, eyes narrowing in thought. “We could test it,” he said eventually.

Danny looked over at him. “And how would we do that? Because I already did the pinch test. Couldn’t feel a thing.”

“Kinda like how you didn’t break every bone in your body when you nearly broke through a solid brick wall?” Jason asked with a smirk.

Danny went to shove Jason’s shoulder, but paused with his hand raised. “You know what, that’s a good point.”

“I tend to have a lot of those,” Jason said. He batted away Danny’s hand. “No, I was thinking, if I told you something that you can check, something that you would have absolutely no way of knowing, than you couldn’t claim that this was all just a dream. You’d have to admit that this is real.”

“That’s as good an idea as any,” Danny replied after a moment. “So what fun and exciting fact do you have for me?”

“Know anything about Gotham?”

Danny shook his head. “Not outside of the fact it's where that one guy is supposed to be, right? Ratman, or something.”

Jason laughed, a full laugh that had him doubling over. It was a good laugh, Danny decided. “I mean, you aren’t that far off.” Jason said after he caught his breath. “Bats, rats, they’re both vermin, and they’re both all over Gotham.”

“I’ve never been huge into the superhero stuff,” Danny said with a laugh of his own. “Tucker likes them though. Blame him for my lack of knowledge.”

Jason shook his head. “That made my day, no blaming necessary.”

“So, was the fact something to do with the Pest Patrol Gotham has, or…?” Danny asked with a smirk. Jason started laughing again, which was good. It was Danny’s goal after all.

“No, the fact is that there’s a neighborhood called Crime Alley. Doesn’t take a genius to figure out why. Almost all official records call it Park Row, since that's what tourists, government officials, and rich snobs call it. If you’ve never been to Gotham, you wouldn’t have much reason to know it as Crime Alley.”

“That’ll work,” Danny replied.

“You shouldn’t have to dig too far to find anyone calling it that, but don’t be surprised if the first couple sources just say Park Row,” Jason added. “Like I said, rich assholes. Their voices always push the farthest.”

“I’ll get Tucker to dig into it,” Danny said. “I’m pretty sure he can find anything if it exists online.”

“Sounds good to me.” Jason stood, and held his hand out to Danny. “Now, since we have so much time to kill, why don’t we try and help you not face plant into any more walls?”

Danny took his hand and floated to his feet. “Like you could do any better.”

Jason smiled deviously. “That sounds like a challenge.”

Danny returned the smile. “I think it does.

— The flying practice did not work for a number of reasons. The first was that, for all intents and purposes, it was a dream; the floor didn’t exist if they didn’t want it to, and the same seemed to go for gravity, on both of their parts. Danny also was just better at his abilities in the dream; they came naturally to him, like breathing did. (He didn’t think about how breathing had become less and less instinctual recently. He had been avoiding thinking about that since the “accident”.) There also weren't any walls for him to avoid hitting.

That hadn’t stopped it from being fun. Jason and he had spent most of the night flying after each other in a scuffed game of tag that involved far more tackling than any game Danny had ever played. Jason had been absolutely viscous, moving in ways that Danny hadn’t even realized were possible, and with a reaction speed to match.

To put it lightly, Danny lossed. Horribly and spectacularly.

That didn’t stop him from waking up well rested and practically floating with how light his heart. Actually, he was floating, his blanket hanging off of his legs and the bed a good foot and a half below him.

His first reaction was to panic, as he had almost every time he’d woken up to this type of thing happening. But it hadn’t helped any of the other times, so Danny locked his joints against his instinct to flail. He took a deep breath, and focused.

Flying in his dreams was instinctual. He was able to turn and twist in the air with barely a thought. He had never been able to do that when he was awake, could barely get himself to go forward when he wasn’t under extreme duress. (He heard a voice in his head, not quite his own thoughts, not quite Jason’s voice. Wasn’t it interesting that the only time he could do this was when he wasn’t thinking about it?

Danny let out a shaky breath, and let his mind wander. He let his joints unlock, let his muscles untense. Slowly, he floated to the floor, the blanket falling to the ground as his feet touched down lightly. He was only able to get one fist pump of celebration off before Jazz was hammering at his door, calling that he had ten minutes unless he wanted to walk to school. He hurried over to his dresser. He didn’t need to look out his window to hear the rain falling, and didn’t quite feel like walking much of anywhere in it.

— “Hey, Tucker?” Danny asked around the ham sandwich he’d grabbed for lunch. Tucker, whose mouth was currently full, made some kind of noise. Danny took it as acknowledgement. “Would you be able to get me some information on something?”

Tucker swallowed and rolled his eyes. “Would I be able to.” He scoffed. “What do you take me for? Of course I can find you information. So, what do you need?”

“Just need to know a bit about this place in Gotham, called Park Row.”

Tucker narrowed his eyes at Danny, before a mischievous knowing smile spread across his face. He leaned closer to Danny over the table. “Oh? And why would you need to know about that?”

Danny shrugged. “No real reason, just need to check something.”

“And this no reason wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with a particular goth’s upcoming birthday, would it?” Tucker looked pointedly at Sam’s currently empty seat. Danny opened and closed his mouth looking for an answer, but Tucker started talking again before he could. “As long as you let me ride the gift with you, I’ll get you your information. Are we getting parent’s permission? Who am I kidding, of course we’re not, they would never agree to let us go by ourselves.”

“What are you talking about?” Danny said as Tucker took another huge bite of his sandwich and fished out his PDA.

At least Tucker swallowed this time. “Sam’s birthday is coming up soon, and you know she’d love to see Gotham. Gargoyles everywhere, and an ecoterrorist supervillain? You want to take her there, and I’m going to help you because I am the best friend in the world and can figure out any information for you ever. As long as its online.” Tucker paused to type something in, before continuing. “And because I can’t figure out what to get Sam. She’d chew me out if I tried to buy her anything, so I’ve been lost for weeks.”

“Yea, that’s true,” Danny said with a laugh. He vaguely remembered Sam saying something about liking Gotham’s architecture, but couldn’t remember anything else from the conversation. “So, did you find anything?”

“How long do you think it takes to find information like this?” Tucker leveled a look at him. Danny held his hands up in mock defeat, before Tucker grinned at him. “Because it takes about that long. I don’t think Park Row’s the place for us dude. It’ll definitely be cheap, but its not for a reason we want to deal with, y’know? I’m seeing a lot of native Gothamites calling it Crime Alley, and it seems like it got that name for a reason.”

Tucker spun the PDA to face Danny, where a series of news articles, detailing various crimes that had occurred in Park Row. Danny inhaled sharply through his teeth. Just like Jason had said, the places were one and the same. Which meant that Jason was right. That wasn’t a dream. Or it wasn’t all a dream, at least. Part of Danny was relieved; he didn’t want to hear what Jazz would have to say if he had actually been dreaming of the same boy every single night. Most of him was just worried. If Jason was an actual real person, what happened? Why was he essentially stuck in his head? As far as Danny could tell, Jason never woke up; he spent all of his time just spectating Danny’s life or in the voidscape with Danny. What had happened that caused this? And how could they undo it?

Danny snapped back into focus to Tucker saying his name. “Danny? You ok man?”

Danny offered a smile he hoped came off as relaxed. “Sorry, just lost in thought. What was that?”

“I was just asking if you want to look at plane tickets, if we’re talking your dad into a ghost hunting adventure, or if you’re flying us all there with your own two arms,” Tucker asked. “Because flights are not cheap, and no offense, but I saw that brick wall you ran into yesterday, and I don’t particularly want to experience it.��

“What, and you think you’ll hit less brick walls if we hitch a ride with my dad?” Danny asked.

“Touche.”

“Hey boys,” Sam said, sliding into her seat and grabbing her half eaten veggie wrap from where it sat. “What are we talking about?”

“Whose worse, Danny flying, or Jack Fenton behind the wheel?” Tucker said before Danny could stop him.

Sam didn’t hesitate before answering. “Jack, for sure.” She took a bite and finished chewing before continuing. “But I think that’s more the fact that Jack has more things he can hit. There are less obstacles in the air for Danny to hit.”

“Guys!” Danny whined. “Why do you have to do this here?”

“Please, do you think any of these meatheads are paying attention to us?” Sam scoffed, waving her hand dismissively. “The only time they care about us is when they want to shove you into a locker.”

“Like now!” Tucker said, pointing behind Danny’s shoulder. Danny didn’t even get the chance to turn around before he heard Dash’s footsteps, quickly followed by Dash’s voice.

“Hey Fenturd! You got my lunch money?” Dash rested his hand on Danny’s shoulder, gripping tight enough that it should have hurt. It didn’t.

“I brought lunch today Dash, I don’t have any money on me,” Danny said, turning around to look Dash in the eyes.

Dash sneered. “Yeah, should’ve expected that. It’s not like your lame ass parents have real jobs. You know what happens when you don’t have any money though, don’t you Fentina?”

“Let me guess. You’re going to do the same tired routine you’ve done every day since 7th grade?” Danny asked. “You should really get more creative with it, but I get that that’s hard for you.”

Dash’s face went red. “Why I oughta-”

Danny cut him off. “C’mon, shove me in a locker already. You’re running out of time, lunch’ll be over in like, 10 minutes.” Just like Danny expected, Dash dragged him out the cafeteria doors. He flashed a signal at Sam and Tucker, one they had come up with that meant for them to meet outside. A few seconds later, and he was shoved in a locker, Dash’s laughter retreating back towards the cafeteria. It took Danny longer to get his body to cooperate, but within another minute he’d phased invisibly through the lockers and into the hall.

He was sitting on the steps to Casper High when Sam and Tucker made their way out. “One of these days,” he said, kicking at a loose piece of concrete from the stairs. “I’m going to give him a taste of his own medicine.”

“You could totally do that now,” Tucker said, flopping down next to Danny.

“I’m all for direct action,” Sam said. She remained standing as she took another bite of her veggie wrap. “I just think that your direct action shouldn’t involve these powers that you still can’t use right.”

“I’ve gotten better!” Danny protested.

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Float to the top of the flagpole and back down without flipping upside down, rocketing into the sky, or plummeting to the ground then.”

“I’m not going to do that. Someone might see!”

Sam gestured with her free hand at the empty courtyard. “No one’s out here cause it's been absolutely soaked from the rain this morning. You’ll be fine, now c'mon. Or can you just not do it?”

Danny set his face. He could never walk away from a dare. (It was how he ended up in the portal. It was how he ended up in this mess.) Sam knew that. With a sigh, he started to follow the same steps he had this morning. He let his mind wander, eyes open but largely unfocused on the world around him, muscles loose and joints unlocked. He didn’t think about going to the top of the flagpole, just like he hadn’t focused on walking out of the building. He floated steadily up to the sopping wet flag, touched it, and floated back down to where he had been sitting prior.

He grinned victoriously at Sam, before wiping his gross wet hand on her skirt. “What was that for!” She protested.

“For daring me to go up there in the first place. You just wanted to see me fail,” Danny said. He wiped his hand on Tucker’s beret too.

“I didn’t say anything!” Tucker yelled, yanking his hat away from Danny as quickly as he could and checking it over for marks.

“But you were thinking it,” Danny said.

“What, can we add mind reading to your new list of abilities?” Sam said.

“No, I just know you two.”

“Sap.” Sam took the final bite of her wrap. “When’d you get a chance to get so good at that, anyway? When you tried yesterday, you were stuck floating upside down by your sneaker until you rammed into that wall.”

“Can we stop bringing up the wall! Please!” Danny complained. “If I have to hear one more person bring up that wall I’m going to lose it!”

“Hmm,” Sam said. She looked at Tucker. “Do you think we should stop bringing up the wall?”

Tucker stroked his four facial hairs thoughtfully. “We could. We could talk about that time last week that he dropped five glass vials in fifteen minutes.”

“Or about that time that he tripped over his own shoelaces and face planted into an ant hole,” Sam added.

“Or what about that time that he tried to prove he was the coolest by eating more hot dogs than me and he could barely get three down before he vomited?”

“Or what about when he tried to dye his hair blonde to win over Paulina in 8th grade”

“Or when-”

“I get it!” Danny interrupted. “You can keep talking about the wall, you don’t have to bring up all of that!”

“That’s what I thought.” Sam crossed her arms smugly. “So, flying. Did you practice?”

“Something like that,” Danny mumbled.

“What do you mean something like that?” Her eyes narrowed at him suspiciously.

The muffled sound of the lunch bell came from Casper High. “I’ll have to tell you after school!” Danny said far too quickly. “I’ll talk to you then!” He bolted up the stairs, not waiting to hear their answer.

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dp x dc fanfic #dead on main #dead on main ship #jason todd/danny phantom #jason todd/danny fenton #ODWTS #dcxdp #dc x dp #dcxdp fic

[sun-lit-roses]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thank you for the tags @curator-on-ao3 and @emonydeborah! I apologize for how long it's taken me to respond 💛

I'm so late to this, I have no idea who's already done it. If you haven't yet, please, please consider yourself tagged - and tag me in your response so that I can read your answers! (Actually if you have done it already, also link me so I can read your answers. These are fun questions with bonus fic recs so I'd like to see them all!)

Anyway, I got a little rambly, so I'll put in a cut to not murder anyone's dash 😁

1. How many works do you have on Ao3? 82.

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? 397,560.

3. What fandoms do you write for? I've been primarily writing Star Trek (Strange New Worlds and Voyager) lately, with a dash of The Librarians and Leverage.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Fringe Benefits (SNW) - My beloved monument to ridiculousness where I approach the totally canon subject of Chris Pike's horse skills via Number One's hair.

October 2373 (Voyager)- My magnum opus! The one time I've managed to achieve completion of an October prompt list - five of them. In one coherent (ish) fic. Granted, it did take me until December... but the point is that I finished it! It follows a very eventful and occasionally random month aboard the Starship Voyager, where they have to deal with imprisonment, alien attacks, diplomatic meetings, and Kathryn's inability to talk about her feelings.

For the Captain Who Has Everything: A Prixin Story (Voyager) - Look. You can't just give me three delightful misfits for ONLY ONE EPISODE and not expect me to adopt them as my own. SO this is what happened next for the little Good Shepherd flock, where 'what happened next' is shenanigans to set up their Captain with her First Officer as a gesture of gratitude.

Growing Pains (SNW) - Aw, one of my early Chris and Una fics! This is one of the set I wrote while the first season was just airing weekly - hard to believe that was almost two years ago 😲 This one was the aftermath of Una 'I'm just fine-ing' her way into emergency surgery and Chris letting her know that there were things up with which he would not put - top of the list being losing his Number One.

Command Advice (SNW) - Another of the early SNW set! This was my 'spicier' take on the resulting conversation between Chris and Una after she learns about her Where Fun Goes to Die nickname. In one version, they have a very serious conversation about Starfleet principles. In *this* version, they're less serious. Also naked.

5. Do you respond to comments? Yes! Or at least I try. I love and cherish every comment, but I tend to run (very) behind on responding and have to play the game of 'is it weird to reply to a comment this late?'

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? My very first fic ever! Actually I think it might be my only fic with an angsty ending. I guess I got it all out of my system early. That one is Wednesday, a Sanctuary fic where Helen has a very sad day.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Literally everything else. I can't even pick out of my collection of sappiness.

8. Do you get hate on fics? Not really.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Yes, there's very little I would not be willing to at least try writing! Up to now I think I've written at least mildly smutty M/F, F/F, and F/M/M sexcapades and/or BDSM. I'm working my way around to some F/F/M for SNW if I could get the three of them to cooperate.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? I think I've only written one crossover and it was for SNW/The Librarians, bringing about a meeting between Eve Baird and Una Chin-Riley, which we would have in a fair and just universe.

Wait, I take that back! I also had a little snippet on Tumblr where Hawkeye, BJ, Jonathan, and Ardeth meet up, because The Mummy/MASH is... certainly a combo. Actually, I think I also had a snippet of Gomez Addams meeting Hawkeye and BJ? What is it about MASH?

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I know of!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Also not that I know of.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Kind of? The Discord crowdsourced the plot to a ridiculously hilarious fic and I wrote a bit of it for fun, but I'm not sure if that counts? Co-writing does sound like a good time, though!

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? Voyager! The happiest little ship in the Delta Quadrant 🚀

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I have a lot of bits and pieces on my hard drive that will never be finished and released into the Ao3 wilds - the plot didn't work out/was barely a plot, I've moved on from the fandom, I was trapped in a fever dream of my nieces playing Frozen on repeat, blacked out, and woke up to 3 chapters dealing with the socio-political ramifications of Elsa decamping and Anna appointing the prince of another land in charge rather than Arendelle's Privy Council. Anyway.

The WIPs I have posted, though, I fully intend to finish at some point! It may take a while and it might not be my original planned ending, but they haunt me. So one day I will have to put them to rest. Possibly with a 2x4, tarp, and shovel.

16. What are your writing strengths? I like to think I'm pretty good at getting into the character's voice. I hope so, at least; I spend a lot of time on it! Also, humor, although that one is objective, of course.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Commas. Clearly.

Structurally, it varies per fic, but I have a habit of running thin on plot. I start strong at A, want to get to B, but the middle gets kind of wander-y. This also leads to me sometimes stalling mid-project if I get distracted or pulled away - hence my current three WIPs. Though it doesn't help that the past six months have sucked on letting me have much free time.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? If it was short, easy dialogue in Spanish or French I might be able to swing it. Otherwise, I would need to phone a friend.

19. First fandom you wrote for? Sanctuary!

20. Favorite fic you’ve written? This is a hard one. I love them all for different reasons, some of which have more to do with the time I was writing them than with the actual contents. Reluctance was my first multi-chapter fic ever back in the FFN days, so that seems like a pretty good candidate. I learned so much while writing that fic!

#this was a fun trip down memory lane! #or my works list on ao3 at least #apologies for talking a lot #now i need to hunt up everyone else's so i can see their answers! #writing

[kynmoonlight]

Bard's Broken Heart

I present: 1 motif of what I’m calling “Bard’s Broken Heart Lace”

OK, not quite, but still a cool design. Inspired by this post from Tumblr user @loki-is-my-kink-awakening https://www.tumblr.com/loki-is-my-kink-awakening/723753602720661504/oh-my-gods-are-these-the-hearts-hidden-on?source=share Who noticed that the trim on Jaskier’s shirt in Season 3 Netflix Witcher is little hearts! And a reply (sorry OP, I can’t find it now) noted that they’re very symbolically, hearts that are divided!

So anyway, I got crafting-obsessed and had to try to figure out how it was made and attempt to recreate it.

Which lead to research on historical lace-making and needlework.

[Disclaimers: this is all my best guesses as an amateur crafter, not a historical expert. I know my stitching is uneven, especially the pin-picots, which I just learned last week]

by the way, crafters or fic writers looking for historical fibercraft reference, check out Project Gutenberg’s (free!) The Encyclopedia of Needlework by Thérèse de Dillmont https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/20776/pg20776-images.html SO much fascinating stuff!

First, based on the clearest photos I can find (ie not very) I’m guessing the actual trim was machine-made, because a) the stitching is really even and smooth and tiny, b) handmade lace would be extremely expensive, and c) TV/Movie costuming needs multiples of every garment, especially for something like a delicate chemise Jaskier wears running all around the continent for a whole season. 

My first guess and attempt was crochet, which wasn’t it, then thought it might be tatting or bobbin lace, which also weren’t right once I looked up images. 

I finally settled on whitework cut-work embroidery with some needle lace techniques for the edging. Which I think gave me a kind of close facsimile. This one is about 1-½ x the size of what he wears (because that’s the limit of my aging hand steadiness, crafting magnifiers, and the materials I had.)

This one motif took me probably two hours, including many screwups and tangles. Not including drafting, blocking and snapshots. With the right materials and one done for practice (as it was only my second project in whitework and first try at needle lace!) one heart would take around an hour. For someone whose lifelong job, all day every day, was embroidering lace trim, they’d probably manage a meter/yard or two of the actual size trim, which I’m guessing is how much is on that shirt.

So in-universe, this still wouldn’t be a cheap piece of clothing, with at least a full day of skilled craftswomen wages for just the lace, plus finely woven, printed fabric that (I think, historically, that would have been block printed by hand), and additional seamster time to make it up. Modern-day equivalent would probably be easily USD $1000 if not 2x that. Our boy is making good money as a now-famous bard! (I suppose in a universe with magic, it could have been magiked, or magically duplicated after an expert created a template, but I suspect that would cost as much as handcrafting anyhow)

If I get bored and the crafting bug hits me again, I might try to make a whole edging this, maybe on a handkerchief. 

Now, what do I do with one lace heart? I settled on starching it and attaching a safety pin back, so I guess if I ever go to a convention I can wear it as a pin so fellow Witchercrafters and Jaskier fans know how much of a nerd I really am.

I could write up direx with step by step pictures if anyone else really wants to try it.

#the witcher #fanart #fan crafts #netflix the witcher #witcher season 3 #needle crafts #costume details #lacemaking #witchercraft #jaskier

[kallie-den]

Marital Aid Ch. 5

Clea puts the very last touches on Isabella new sexuality, as the two of them settle in to enjoy married bliss

This story was a commission from one of my patrons! Thank you very much to Myles_EXVS for their kind support

If you enjoy my work and are looking for more, or you want to support me, I strongly encourage you to check out my Patreon! I write erotica full-time, which means I need your patronage to keep creating, and my Patrons also get benefits like early access to my stories, extra stories, and the ability to vote on what I write next! So, if that sounds good to you, head over and join the couple hundred patrons I already have :)

---

“Mistress?” The sound of Isabella’s voice brought Clea back to herself. “Are you alright?”

Clea noted with pride the way Isabella’s voice didn’t falter as she called her ‘mistress’. The older woman barely even blushed. All of this, including their kink dynamic, had become completely normal to her now. Just as it should have.

“Yes, of course,” Clea assured her. “Just a little distracted, that’s all.”

It was true. As Clea had been standing at the door to their kitchen, looking in, watching Isabella cook for her, she’d become distracted by just how perfect her life had become. It was strange; after such a long time spent yearning and hoping, Clea didn’t know what to do with herself. She had it all. All her dreams had come true. What came next?

Clea decided there was nothing left to do but bask in the afterglow and enjoy her newfound domestic bliss with the older woman she’d hypnotized into a loving, devoted, submissive lesbian.

“Anyway,” Clea said, as she walked over and pressed herself against Isabella’s back, “are you sure you won’t let me take care of that? You should really take the weight off your feet.”

She reached around and rested a hand on Isabella’s full, round, pregnant belly.

“No thank you, mistress,” Isabella replied, pausing for a moment to rest one of her hands atop Clea’s. “I love making food for you.”

Clea just smiled. She’d known Isabella would say that, of course. Even six months pregnant, she insisted on doing her fair share of the housework, despite the long hours she was still spending at the office. The two of them had an unusual dynamic - at work, Isabella was still Clea’s boss, but in private, their dynamic flipped and Isabella was the submissive one. She liked to joke that cooking and cleaning was the least she could do to make up for spending all day bossing her mistress around.

The main reason Clea let her was that Isabella was so clearly flourishing in their new life together. She was dramatically, visibly happier than she had ever been with her husband. Having a partner who truly appreciated her made all the domestic work Isabella did incredibly rewarding, and she was able to put all that energy back into her professional life as well. Everywhere, Isabella was excelling. She’d received more than a few comments from coworkers about how much happier and more fulfilled she seemed ever since the divorce from her ex-husband had been finalized. Clea had never been more proud of her.

Except for the day they had received the happy news that Isabella was pregnant.

“You know, I can’t wait to have kids with you,” Clea said softly to Isabella. “We’re gonna be great moms.”

Isabella blushed. Clea knew hearing that meant a lot to her. “’Kids’ plural, huh?” she replied playfully. “Are you sure you’re not getting a little bit ahead of yourself? I’m still working on number one here.”

“Nope,” Clea told her confidently. “You’ve always wanted a big family, right? Well, me too. Two boys and a girl.”

“Two boys and a girl?” Isabella echoed. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” Clea admitted. She stretched forward and kissed Isabella’s cheek. “It just sounds good to me.”

“It doesn’t sound bad,” Isabella admitted. Then, with a touch of theatricality, she sighed. “I guess I’m just gonna have to get used to carrying all this extra weight around, aren’t I?”

“You sure are.” Clea giggled. “Now we know how well IVF works for you, I intend to exploit it to the fullest.”

After just a few months, the fertility treatments Isabella had started to undergo had paid off. Finally, Clea was giving Isabella what she’d always wanted: a family of her own. Working together to deal with the pregnancy and prepare for the baby had brought the two of them closer than ever before. Clea had never felt happier.

And it helped that pregnancy looked really, really good on Isabella.

“You know, in my book, the extra weight isn’t a bad thing at all,” Clea murmured into her lover’s ear. “I love how this maternity dress makes you look,” 

She started rubbing her palm back and forth across her belly. The way the fabric of the long, blue dress was stretched taut over Isabella’s growing baby bulge was utterly enchanting. Clea couldn’t keep her hands away. Dressed like that, standing in the kitchen with a wooden spoon in her hand, she was the very embodiment of classic, mature femininity. Anyone would have thought so.

The only detail that might have raised their eyebrows was the conspicuous leather collar kept permanently fastened around Isabella’s neck.

Isabella responded with a low purr of appreciation. “Thank you, mistress.” She hesitated. “I feel huge. I think this one’s getting a little small on me.”

“Yeah?” Clea replied, voice breathy. “Well, I like it that way. Really shows off how much of a MILF you’re turning into.”

“Goodness!” Isabella giggled. She was leaning back against Clea eagerly. “Stop!”

“Nope,” Clea shot back playfully. “How could I? I know you’re cooking, but you look good enough to eat.”

Her hands were roaming up and down Isabella’s body now, exploring her hips, her thighs, her chest… she was getting bigger in all the right places. Clearly, motherhood suited her.

“M-mistress! Isabella’s voice started to take on a needy, whiny, high-pitched quality as Clea felt her up. “That’s not fair!”

“Oh yeah?” Clea couldn’t stop grinning. She knew Isabella was enjoying this just as much as she was. “Why’s that?”

Isabella moaned sharply as Clea rested a hand on one of her swollen, sensitive breasts, then giggled as euphoric pleasure washed over her. “A-ah! You k-know how crazy my hormones are these days! T-this is… unff… really d-distracting.”

“Sorry.” Clea giggled too - but she didn’t stop. Not yet. “I guess I should let you get back to cooking, huh? Maybe after dinner, I can help you blow off a little steam.”

Isabella paused for a long moment. Clea kept groping her. She knew the decision her lover was struggling to make, and was more than happy to keep putting her thumb on the scales.

“Actually,” Isabella said slowly, eventually, “this could really do with simmering for a little while. So… maybe right now, we c-could…”

Clea let out a smug laugh and then kissed the back of Isabella’s neck. “Bedroom’s just upstairs, darling.”

After Isabella turned down the heat to keep the pot at a bare simmer, the two of them walked hand in hand up to their bedroom. Happily, Isabella had been awarded the house in the divorce. It meant lots of space for both her and Clea, and plenty more to spare for when the baby arrived. Unhappily, now that she was on the threshold of her third trimester, Isabella had some amount of trouble navigating the stairs. Clea, though, was always there to help her, step by step, until the two of them made it all the way to the top.

“Goodness,” Isabella sighed, as she slumped down onto their king-sized bed. “I swear that gets harder every day. I might need a minute to catch my breath. Sorry, mistress.”

“There’s no need to apologize,” Clea told her firmly. “Understand?”

“Understood,” Isabella immediately replied, and nodded submissively.

“Good.” Clea perched next to her on the bed. “Besides, I have something for you to do while you rest up.”

Isabella looked at her quizzically.

Clea reached into her pocket and retrieved her phone - and a pair of earbuds. “I have one last meditation music video I’d like you to check out.”

“One last…” Isabella lit up at once, although she looked surprised. “Wow! I thought you were done with these a long time ago.”

“I know it’s been a little while,” Clea acknowledged. “But, what can I say? Recently, I got the itch to make just one more. For the road, I guess.”

“You won’t hear me complaining.” Isabella was already untangling the earbuds. “Why only one more, though? I’m curious.”

“I just…” Clea paused for a long moment to consider her answer. “I just don’t think we’ll be needing any more.”

Isabella was visibly puzzled, but seemed to accept Clea’s answer for what it was. “I see. Well, like I said, no complaints here. I’m just glad to have one more I can add to my regular playlist!” She looked at Clea and smiled. “Thank you, mistress. I’ve really loved having these to listen to.”

Clea giggled. “You’re welcome. Although, you know, it’s actually my friend Bruna you should be thanking.”

“Aren’t you enigmatic today?” Isabella teased. “Fine, I’ll thank her - but later. I’m eager to listen. My life is a whole lot less stressful without my ass of an ex-husband, but I could still do with a little relaxation.”

Clea gestured for her to lie back and get started. She helped Isabella get into position: lying flat on her back, head on the pillows, blanket folded under her pelvis to help with her aching muscles. While Isabella got the music video loaded up, Clea pressed close to her side and then, once it was ready to play, took the phone out of the older woman’s hands and held it up for her to see.

“Ready?” Clea asked.

Isabella nodded.

Clea hit ‘play’.

This was far from the first time Clea had watched Isabella enjoy one of her specially tailored, hypnotic videos, but no matter how often it happened, it was always a joy to watch the older woman’s face as she succumbed to trance. Clea could practically count the muscles beneath her skin as, one by one, they completely relaxed, leaving Isabella with a slack, mindless, blissfully calm expression. There was something captivating and unspeakably beautiful about it. This was exactly how tranquil and peaceful Isabella always deserved to look.

But it was far from instant; the trance took hold slowly, and there was an entire, wonderful performance to the way it happened. Every few moments, as the video playing in front of her drained all the will and awareness out of Isabella, she tried to gather herself - not to fight or resist, just to stay focused on Clea’s gift. Her eyelids would force themselves wide open, only to sag again after a couple of seconds. The light would return to her eyes, only for the spark to quickly fade into an absent, glassy sheen. Each time, each cycle, Isabella slipped a little deeper, unable to renew herself fully, until eventually, she stopped trying. Stopped struggling.

Stopped thinking.

Clea kept her gaze fixed carefully on Isabella’s face. She couldn’t risk looking at the music video herself. The risk of catching splash damage was too great. But she could certainly see the way Isabella’s face was being bathed in spinning, kaleidoscopic patterns; more and more with each passing moment, as the complex patterns playing on the video unfolded and unfurled in entrancing, ever-shifting formations. At the same time, in sync with them, Clea could hear deep, pulsing, binaural beats leaking out from the earbuds; as much as that, she could feel them, the vibrations passing through Isabella’s body and into hers.

Isabella was hopelessly weak to all of it now. She’d embraced that weakness, succumbing willingly to Clea’s gifts. She loved going into trance for Clea. She loved the relaxation it brought her. She loved feeling Clea’s voice wrapping around her like a warm hug. Clea liked to think that, even if some part of Isabella’s subconscious mind had figured out that she was being hypnotically altered by the music videos, she had decided to accept it.

After all, she was so much happier now.

And to make sure she stayed perfectly happy forever, Clea needed to alter her just a little more.

You are a lesbian, Isabella

Though muted, Clea could still hear her prerecorded voice clearly as the video pumped it into Isabella’s ears. More alteration would come later. First, Clea wanted to be sure to reinforce some other key suggestions.

You are attracted to Clea

You cannot resist Clea

Obeying Clea makes you feel good

Clea knows what’s best for you

Isabella’s face registered not even the slightest hint of resistance or rejection. After many months of constant repetition, she had long since accepted each and every one of them. They had become part of her. In all likelihood, they’d remain true even if Isabella was never hypnotized again. Once you accepted something deeply enough, it became self-reinforcing.

You are a submissive lesbian

You crave sexual contact with Clea

You are in love with Clea

Clea can give you a family

Clea loved the way a faint blush was visible in Isabella’s cheeks as she contemplated submission to Isabella.

You don’t like men

You cannot orgasm with men

You don’t need your ex-husband

Those ones were even less likely to need further reinforcement. They were barely relevant to Isabella’s new life. But Clea liked feeding them to Isabella anyway. A harmless little pleasure.

You are confident

You are proud of being a lesbian

You are comfortable with people knowing you’re a lesbian

You need to marry Clea and have her children

Watching that last particular set of suggestions become true for Isabella had been indescribably wonderful. Despite all opposition and prejudice, inside and out, Isabella had come to completely accept her new life and her new identity. She was out as a lesbian to everyone now. In her day-to-day life, she was rarely seen without a little lesbian pride flag pin somewhere on her clothes. At work, she had taken charge of organizing the company’s pride events.

Isabella was such a lesbian. Clea loved it.

Finally, after all the rest, Clea had planted a few new suggestions she thought would help to ensure Isabella’s happiness.

You love belonging to Clea

Clea is your lesbian mistress

You love being Clea’s submissive lesbian slave

You are proud of being Clea’s lesbian wife

No resistance to those either. Not even a flicker. Isabella remained completely and totally focused on the phone screen. After everything else, why would she fight? Why would she even question? Isabella already liked the idea of all of those things - especially the kinky stuff.

Clea could see the acceptance in her blank, hypnotized eyes as the mantras washed over her.

You crave being bred by Clea

Being pregnant with Clea’s children turns you on

You never take off your collar without permission

Clea’s pussy is the most delicious thing in the world

Clea giggled quietly to herself. Those final few hypnotic suggestions were, admittedly, completely self-indulgent. Were they essential for Isabella’s happiness? Perhaps not. But they wouldn’t hurt. Clea knew that she was going to enjoy them.

And moreover, she knew Isabella would too.

In fact, by the looks of it, she’d already started. As each of those suggestions was fed into Isabella’s ears, her cheeks started to develop a telltale, rosy glow, and her deep breaths took on a faint, panting, needy tone. Without waking, she shifted just a little, rubbing her thighs together. Clea grinned. She knew those signs very, very well by now.

Isabella was turned on.

How could she not be? Every new desire Clea was giving her was already being inflamed and catered to. She belonged to Clea, she was wearing her collar - and, above all, she was pregnant with Clea’s child. 

Now that she had such an intense kink for that, Isabella was going crazy.

Clea was very, very tempted to start playing with her right away. But she managed to restrain her eagerness and simply watched patiently as the music video started to loop the new suggestions over, and over, and over.

Eventually, though, it came to an end. After many long minutes, the music video had run its course. Once the suggestions were firmly planted in Isabella’s mind, the shifting patterns and colors on the phone’s screen came to a halt, and the binaural beats playing in Isabella’s ears faded away to silence.

With nothing keeping her in a trance, Isabella slowly began to stir. Her eyes, no longer held transfixed, started to blink and flutter as awareness returned to them. She started shifting around a little, and let out a few heavy, sleepy noises. Isabella arched her back and stretched as she situated herself, and when she noticed Clea lying next to her, she smiled warmly at her beloved.

“Hey,” the older woman said in a distant, dreamy voice.

“Hey yourself,” Clea threw back.

“I’m sorry.” Isabella rubbed at her eyes. Her brow furrowed for a moment as she tried to remember what had just happened. “What was I… oh, your meditation video! I guess it worked a little too well on me, I must have drifted off. That’s so embarrassing, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Clea told her. “You deserve all the rest you need. You’re resting for two at the moment, right?”

Both of them giggled. Then, Clea reached across the bed and rested a hand, affectionately and possessively, on Isabella’s pregnant belly.

Isabella’s reaction was instant. She squeaked, and a sudden, hot flush hit her cheeks. Clea could tell exactly what was going on in her head. That gentle little touch had reminded Isabella of her situation. Her pregnancy.

And how intensely hot she suddenly found it.

“P… please,” Isabella whimpered.

Clea licked her lips. She couldn’t resist having just a little fun.

“Please?” Clea tilted her head, playing dumb. “Oh, you need more rest? Of course, my love. We can play around later. For now, you just stay right here and rest.”

“Nooooo,” Isabella whined, reaching for Clea. She was hopelessly weak to her lover’s teasing.

“No?” Clea could barely keep herself from giggling at Isabella’s plight. “Well, no, I guess we don’t have to have sex later either, if you really don’t want to.”

“I… need…” Between the blistering arousal and residual fogginess, Isabella was struggling to form words. But her intent, as she blushed and panted and reached desperately for Clea, was extremely clear. “Need… you… to fuck me.”

Clea smirked at her. In her mind, the older woman never looked prettier than she did like this. “Ask properly, darling.”

Isabella’s blush renewed itself, and she nodded submissively. “Yes, mistress. P-please fuck me, mistress.”

Clea licked her lips again. “Gladly.”

She propped herself up on one arm, and the hand Clea had rested on Isabella’s belly started rubbing and stroking, movingly slowly down the pregnant woman’s body as it did, reaching closer and closer to her sensitive places. Isabella whined. She was torn between gratitude that she was getting what she wanted, and impatience that Clea was still teasing her with gradual foreplay.

“You’re so hot,” Clea breathed. “Always - but especially like this.”

A loud moan forced its way out of Isabella’s throat. She looked embarrassed, and surprised at herself - surprised at just how hot she was finding Clea commenting on her pregnancy.

“You know why?” Clea told her, still fondling her belly. “Because this is mine. You’re having my child. For me. Because of me. And that means, even more than all the rest of you, this belongs to me.”

“Oh my god,” Isabella moaned. She looked overwhelmed by her own arousal as that thought wormed its way into her head, stoking the fire of her new breeding kink. “Yes! Yyyesss!”

Clea giggled again. “And I love that you love being owned and bred by a younger woman. You’re such a submissive dyke.”

Isabella just nodded enthusiastically. She was practically feverish with need. Desperate for some kind of relief, she reached down with her own hand, straining to touch herself.

But Clea swatted her hand away.

“No,” she told Isabella, gently but firmly. “That’s my job. Understand?”

Isabella let out another little whine of protest, but obediently let her hand fall against the bed. She wouldn’t touch herself without Clea’s permission. Clea loved that. She loved the bond of trust and care it represented. Clea took it very seriously, which was why she wasn’t going to be too mean.

But she knew Isabella loved it when she dragged things out just a little.

“But, you know what?” Clea said teasingly. “I seem to remember you telling me earlier all about how much you love servicing me and doing things for me. So, how about this? You make me cum first. Then I’ll fuck you.”

Isabella’s only response was yet another throaty, needy whine at the unfairness of Clea’s command. She didn’t complain, though. The older woman was rapidly sinking into subspace; the deep, all-encompassing mindset of complete, unquestioning obedience to her mistress. That clouded-over but adoring look in her eyes filled Clea’s heart with delight.

She decided to give Isabella a little extra incentive and test out another of her new post-hypnotic suggestions in the process.

“Don’t worry,” Clea told her. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.”

Clea reached down and slipped a hand into her pants. She was already wet, of course; seeing Isabella this turned on and submissive always did that to her. Clea took a brief moment to gratify herself, dipping two fingertips into her pussy until they were coated and dripping with her own juices. Then she stopped - and presented the hand to Isabella’s lips.

She didn’t need to say anything. Isabella knew exactly what to do. She stretched up, opened her mouth, and started to suckle.

An instant later, her eyes flew wide in amazement.

“Oh my god,” Isabella panted around Clea’s fingers. “That tastes - you taste - amazing!”

“Thank you.” Clea giggled wickedly to herself. “Just noticed?”

“No, it’s…” Isabella was still lapping frantically at Clea’s hand, eager to enjoy every last drop. “Um, did you change your diet without telling me or something? T-this is…”

Clea raised an eyebrow. This was proving even more effective than she’d expected - not that that was a bad thing. Isabella’s own arousal was all but forgotten amidst her newfound thirst for Clea’s taste. She kept licking Clea’s fingertips until she was absolutely sure that no trace of her new favorite flavor remained - then a fresh hunger seemed to wash over her as it occurred to Isabella that plenty more of that delicious ambrosia was dripping from between Clea’s thighs.

“Mistress,” Isabella breathed. Her gaze was fixed on the spot. “May I eat you out? Right now?”

“My, my,” Clea commented, amused. “You’ve really changed your tune, my love.”

“I just… it’s…” Isabella couldn’t seem to fit it into words. She was frantic. Like a cat for catnip. “You wanted me to make you cum, right? S-so…”

There was something so very intoxicating about watching Isabella, a woman older and more senior than Clea, the woman she’d been pining after for so long, thinking of nothing but how much she desperately wanted to lick Clea’s pussy. It was the greatest possible turn-on.

“I did,” Clea allowed. She reached across the bed and stroked Isabella’s face affectionately. “But given how demanding you’re being, I think you’re going to have to convince me.” Her smile twisted into a smirk. “Beg. Like I taught you.”

Isabella shivered pleasurably for a moment. She loved Clea being confident and dominant just as much as Clea loved her being submissive and obedient. “Yes, mistress.”

With some effort, Isabella got upright and clambered up to her feet. In an efficient, unhurried way, she started removing her clothes - her dress, then her leggings, then her underwear - carefully folding each garment and setting it down beside herself in a neat pile as she did.

Once Isabella was completely naked, she started to kneel next to the bed. Clea soon noticed, though, that thanks to the increasingly large bump on her belly, she was having trouble. Clea immediately got up to assist her.

“Here,” she offered. “Let me help.”

Isabella nodded gratefully and took Clea’s arm, letting her mistress take some of her weight as she helped lower to the ground. Once there, Isabella folded her legs beneath her, straightened her back, and then bent forward at a stiff angle.

“Please, mistress,” she said simply. “Let me eat your pussy.”

Looking down at her like that, Clea had the best possible view of Isabella’s naked body. She saw it every day now, but that didn’t make it any less special or any less beautiful. Somehow, motherhood had only made Isabella’s gorgeous, mature curves even more appealing. Her fantastic figure was even more stunning; her hips were wider than ever before, and her boobs had grown at least a full cup size. Her rich, brown skin had a fresh glow to it - and, of course, her belly was full and heavy with her pregnancy.

In Clea’s eyes, she was an avatar of fertility and motherhood. She was so beautiful. And Clea couldn’t wait to have her between her legs.

“You may,” Clea told her.

“Thank you, mistress!” Isabella replied gratefully.

Isabella raised her head and eagerly shuffled forward, towards Clea. Clea, every bit as impatient as her, quickly unbuckled her pants, shucked them down to her knees, and then perched on the edge of the bed with her legs spread wide apart.

The older woman grinned proudly as she noted that Clea was just as wet as she was.

Clea’s panties were completely soaked, and Isabella wasted no time pulling them to one side and bringing her lips to Clea’s cunt. The very first touch reminded her just how wonderfully addictive she now found her girlfriend’s taste. With renewed eagerness, Isabella started kissing, licking, and worshiping with all her energy.

Clea threw back her head and moaned. Fuck, it felt incredible.

Over the brief but passionate course of their relationship, Isabella had gone from a virgin pussylicker to a practiced expert. Thanks to Clea’s firm teachings, she knew exactly how to best pleasure her mistress’s body. The right touches, the right rhythms - all of it was muscle memory, but for Clea, the experience was heightened even further by the sheer, unnatural desperation with which Isabella was eating her out.

It was like she was dying of thirst, and Clea’s wetness was all she had to drink. Isabella was barely pausing to breathe as she kissed Clea’s pussy and pressed her tongue as deeply as she could inside her. All of Clea’s breaths were coming out as moans, and a wild grin was spread across her face. She couldn’t believe how well this particular hypnotic suggestion was working out.

Once Isabella’s initial thirst was sated, she settled in a slightly steadier rhythm, pausing occasionally to adore Clea’s inner thighs with deep, loving kisses or to tease and suckle on her clit. Soon, as the pleasure rose in Clea’s body, her entire body started heaving and shuddering and each one of her moans forced all the air out of her lungs. Clea’s climax was coming.

“F-fuck!” she panted. “I l-love that I made you so good at this!”

Isabella’s only response was a delighted purr that Clea could feel echoing through her own body.

“Yeah,” Clea moaned, as Isabella’s tongue touched a particularly sensitive spot just inside her. “Right there. Right there.”

She was usually content to simply sit back and relax as Isabella ate her out, but with her orgasm approaching, Clea reached down and rested her hand on the back of Isabella’s head, using it to guide the older woman and control her pace. Sensing Clea’s intent, Isabella redoubled her efforts, and with her tongue moving so quickly and eagerly, Clea soon felt herself cresting the wave of her orgasm.

“Yeah! Right there!” Clea repeated breathlessly. She clamped down with her hand and her thighs at once, forcing Isabella against her body, denying her air. “Good girl. Good girl! I’m - fuck!”

Clea came. The pleasure hit her with such a fierce intensity, she needed to grip the sides of the bed with both hands just to keep herself upright. Instead, as she rode out the orgasm, Clea crossed both of her legs behind Isabella’s head, squeezing her like a vice, forcing the older woman to keep eating her out until her pleasure slowly, finally ebbed away - not that Isabella needed much forcing. She was just as eager as Clea to prolong her pleasure and heighten her orgasm.

Anything for her beloved mistress.

Eventually, the strength drained from Clea’s body and she let her legs fall apart, finally allowing Isabella to come up for air. The older woman gratefully slumped back a little. She looked like a total mess. Her face was covered with Clea’s slick, sticky wetness, and her eyes were as glassy and blank as Clea had ever seen them. Isabella had been so caught up in worshiping Clea, she was all but hypnotized.

It was just about the hottest thing Clea had ever seen.

“Good girl,” Clea sighed once more, her breath coming back to her in fits and starts. “OK, my love. Your turn.”

She reached down and helped Isabella back up to her feet. Isabella obeyed effortlessly. She was like a doll, just waiting to be posed. Once Clea laid her down on the bed and clambered up between her knees, though, she realized what was going to happen. A deep blush hit Isabella’s cheeks. She’d had her fill of Clea’s taste; now the near-forgotten need in her own body was coming roaring back.

“Please, mistress,” Isabella whined. “Don’t make me wait any longer.”

“Don’t worry,” Clea replied lovingly. “You’ve been very, very good for me, Bella. You deserve every reward in the world.”

With that, she pushed her face up between Isabella’s perfectly soft, appealing thighs and started to kiss her.

Just like Isabella, Clea knew her lover’s body intimately and expertly. She knew exactly how best to make Isabella feel good. After all, she’d already gone down on her dozens and dozens of times. However, the approach she took was very, very different.

Clea had promised to make Isabella cum. She hadn’t promised to do it right away.

“P-please,” Isabella begged incoherently as Clea started kissing her way up her inner thighs, tortuously slow. “Please. Please, please, please!”

Clea wasn’t to be rushed. She kept a steady, gradual pace, kissing and nipping, inching ever closer to Isabella’s pussy. Isabella squirmed and writhed madly from the teasing pleasure, bucking her hips in an effort to shift herself down the bed, closer to Clea’s lips - but Clea wouldn’t allow it. Instead, she just giggled at how much Isabella was dripping down her own thighs.

“Wow,” she commented, “you really need this, don’t you?”

“Yes!” Isabella barked out. “G-god, yes!”

“Cute,” Clea purred. “Tell me, Bella, did you ever think you’d be like this? Knocked up and owned by a younger woman? Lying on your back, begging her to lick your cunt?”

Isabella’s needy thrashing intensified as she tried to cover her face and hide from the burning-hot shame that assailed her. After a moment, though, Clea stroked a single fingertip across her pussy, and Isabella was forced to grip the bed sheets, exposing the submissive, embarrassed, lust-drunk look on her face.

“I… I… nooooo,” Isabella protested. “I… I’m… you’re… n-not fair!”

Clea giggled. She was right, of course - but only Clea knew why.

“Yeah?” Clea teased. “I’m not fair? How does that explain how much of a mess you’re making? You’re dripping all over the bed, babe.”

“Nooo,” Isabella howled again in futile denial. “You… y-you… did something… to me!”

“Oh, I did?” Clea put her lips very, very close to Isabella’s skin, letting her warm breath tease her. “What did I do?”

"I… don’t…” Isabella gave up and simply moaned. She couldn’t think, and both of them knew it.

“No, c’mon,” Clea told her. “Tell me. What did I do?”

“You… you… I…” Isabella was trying her hardest to muster an answer, but Clea wasn’t making it easy for her. Whenever Isabella looked like she was close to spitting out a word longer than a syllable, Clea dragged her tongue across her cunt in a slow, languid stroke that turned the older woman’s mind to mush.

“You can do it,” Clea teased. “Answer me. What did I do?”

Eager to obey, Isabella eventually managed to summon a response. “You… m-made me… a… lesbian!”

Clea blinked, surprised. She paused for a moment. “Excuse me?”

“That’s what it f-felt like.” Without Clea distracting her at every moment, Isabella could speak a little easier. “Before you, I never… but, god, you’re just so amazing and supportive and b-beautiful. Without you, I might never have realized.”

Clea relaxed. Smiled. “I see. So it’s my fault you’re such a total bottom.”

“You- ah!”

Isabella tried to answer, but her words broke apart hopelessly as Clea started eating her out again. This time, there was no teasing. No foreplay. Isabella was beyond the need for that. She was already at a rolling boil, desperate for any kind of release.

Which meant her pleasure was all the greater when Clea finally turned her attention to her clit. She wrapped her lips around it, sucking and lapping, bringing one hand up to rub against the lips of Isabella’s pussy.

Her efforts had Isabella moaning like never before.

The older woman would have been thrashing and squirming like crazy, except that all the strength had completely drained from her limbs. Instead, all Isabella could do was reach to either side of herself and gather up the bedsheets into her fists whilst all the air was forced out of her lungs.

“P… p-please!” Isabella moaned, in a voice higher and needier than ever before. “P-please! I n-n-need… need…”

Clea knew she was begging for something different this time: for mercy. For just a moment to catch her breath. But Clea wasn’t going to give it to her. Instead, she redoubled her efforts, working Isabella’s clit as quickly and furiously as she could, keen to bring her lover to the point of orgasm as quickly as possible.

It didn’t take long.

Isabella’s orgasm came screaming. After so much teasing, for so long, it hit her like a thunderbolt. Her moans filled the entire house, and all around Clea, she twitched and shuddered violently as the sheer force of the pleasure short-circuited her brain. Clea guided her through it expertly, switching up her rhythm to ensure the pleasure hit Isabella in waves, one climax after the next, folding atop each other, guiding her to the very peak of bliss.

And all the while, Clea was grinning. The moment was perfect. Both of them were in heaven.

Once Isabella’s pleasure finally ebbed away, she relaxed into a happy, addled daze. Clea gave her a moment to herself, to recover from the sheer over-stimulation. But once she felt Isabella was ready, Clea reached over to her bedside table and retrieved a set of papers from the drawer.

“What’s that?” Isabella asked, turning to look at her. She was still flushed, and her face was drenched with sweat. She looked so happy.

“Another reward,” Clea replied. “I was thinking it might be time.”

“What does that-“ Isabella started to ask, but froze when Clea handed her the papers and saw what was written at the top of the first page.

They were marriage papers.

“We should make it official, right?” Clea asked. “Before the due date, I mean. Assuming you’ll say ‘yes’, that is.”

“Yes.” Isabella’s grin split her face from ear to ear. “I’m saying ‘yes’.”

Immediately, Clea’s face hurt from smiling too. She threw herself on the bed next to Isabella and wrapped the older woman up into a tight, loving embrace.

“I love you,” Clea told her.

“I love you too,” came Isabella’s confident reply. After the two of them pulled away from each other, Isabella turned her attention to the papers and giggled. “I was kind of expecting a ring.”

“I’ll get one,” Clea promised. “But for now, you already have the only ring you truly need.”

She reached out and touched her fingertips to Isabella’s collar. Isabella blushed.

“Do you have a pen?” she asked.

Clea did. She handed it to Isabella - but before she could sign the marriage papers, Clea stopped her with a hand over the page.

“Actually, there’s one more thing we should agree on first,” Clea said.

“What’s that?” Isabella asked.

Clea winked at her. “Two boys and a girl. Right?”

---

I would like to express my gratitude for the generosity of all those who support me on Patreon, and to give a special thanks to the following patrons in particular for their exceptional support:

Artemis, Chloe, Grillfan65, The Secret Subject, Morriel, Dex, orangesya, Red, dmtph, Queenfisher, MegatronTarantulas, Vanessa, Madeline, BTYOR, Sarah, Mattilda, Emily Queen of sloths, ntad, Shadows exile, Abigail, Hypnogirl_Stephanie_, Jade, mintyasleep, ZephanyZephZeph, Michael, Be_Be, Tasteful Ardour, Chris, Dennis, Full Blown Marxism, Morder, S, Brendon, Drone 8315, Jack the Monkey, Jim, Erin, HannahSolaria, Christopher, hellenberg, Kay, Miss_Praxis, Violet, Noct, Charlotte, Faun, BrinnShea, B, Foridin, Jennifer, EepyTimeTea, Slifer274, Roxxie, Phoenix, Ivy, Jim, Sebastian, Joseph, Yaoups, Thomas, Liz, naivetynkohan, Basic dev, SuperJellyFrogEx, night, Katie, Lily, spyrocyndersam13, zzzz, Mal, Jose, Bouncyrou, Anonymous, Bacon Man, Nimapode, Melody, NuclearBoarhead, Kunoichiru, FemKUltra, Z!, Flluffie, Ash, Artemis, Geckonator, TheRealG, Anonymous, Bob, J, nathan, GladiusLumin, Ada, Kyle, Marina, Space Prius

#story #Marital Aid

[ask-emo-raiden]

lightning journal entry 1

it's not even been a week but i have so many messages in my inbox already (x_x) you tumblr people work fast huh

um so obv i can't respond to everyone super fast cuz i wanna give every reply the same amount of attention n stuffs so pls be patient haha

but yah i'll be getting to everyone eventually so don't worry if u don't get an answer for a bit

besides that things have been going decently i guess, pretty boring cuz nothing much is happening atm... which means i'm on high alert since something bad is bound to happen soon (o_e)

hopefully it'll be something interesting at least so i'll have more stuff to talk about on this blog and not just say over and over how stupid and lame my life is ugh

actually come to think of it april fool's day is soon, so maybe one of the wannabe gang kids at school will pull something big and get in a lot of trouble, there's this one boy who got held back from being a senior so he's in my grade and he's a huge punk who starts fights like EVERY DAY and it's sooo annoying (-_-)

last year he lit firecrackers in one of the toilets in the boy's room on the 3rd floor and the toilet totally BROKE and it flooded and caused water damage to the floor under it and he got suspended for 3 days afterwards, and those were the quietest 3 school days i can ever remember...

anyway maybe he'll try something again this year and get suspended even longer so we can have more peaceful days LOL

ummm i'm running out of things to write about so i'm just gonna end it here (o_<)/ cya

#AER journal

[sorin-in-the-stars]

After School Assignment...

After School Assignment...

Scaramouche x GN! Reader

Contents : Highschool/College AU. Fluff, a single kiss at the end, not much actual Scara content, but its there,

Summary : You get paired up with Scaramouche for an assignment and have to go to his house to work on it.

Requested? No.

Wc : 1.3k

Not posting to ao3

Requests? Open!

this has been in the writing process for a few days so, sorry if it doesnt make much sense, i didnt want to proof read it lmao I also may write a part two to this, as the ending didnt sit right with me, but it depends i guess.

“You two are paired…You two are paired…and you two..” Your teacher went around the class, handing out a page for each pair of students. Everyone had a deskmate, so it was no surprise that your teacher just decided to do the pairs like that. It was the easiest way.

Right?

You sighed inwardly, sinking into your seat, and pulling up your mask as the sudden realization of who your partner was dawned on you. You questioned why you had picked this spot in the first place at the beginning of the year.

Your teacher didn’t say anything as she put the paper onto the shared table. You didn’t dare grab the page and expose your pitiful excuse of a hiding spot. You were right next to him anyways! Why even attempt at hiding?

Now, you knew there was nothing wrong with your partner. He worked swiftly and precisely. But…his communication skills were… something to say the least.

Scaramouche sighed and leaned forward to grab the loose page, skimming over the contents quickly as he was not listening to the entire lecture, to begin with. He had no real need to as the student with the highest marks.

“Got any ideas?” He asked, still staring at the page.

You shook your head in reply, not truly caring if he saw or not. You could care less for this assignment, you didn’t even know what it was about. You sure weren’t listening. You needed to though, as the student with the lowest marks that is.

Maybe that is why your teacher had pointed Scaramouche to your table when he arrived a few weeks ago.

He turned to face you, expression nothing short of foul. “Are you deaf or just stupid?” He asked, clearly having not seen you shake your head a few seconds prior. 

Once more, you shook your head. Giving him a small glare. 

He huffed and shook his head, eyebrows furrowed in irritation. “Fine. We can do it in Inazuma history then.” He tossed the paper to you, letting you read over it before the bell rang for the next class.

The teacher started to speak, going on about how the assignment was due in a week, and that it was best to do planning over the weekend with your partner.

Like hell, he would even agree to that.

With that, you took a picture of the paper and stuffed your bag with the rest. The bell was surely soon to ring anyways. 

Your desk partner didn’t say anything as he packed his own bag up for the day.

The bell rang, and the halls filled with a plethora of other students fleeing to their next class. You stood up from your seat and shuffled, pulling up your mask quietly before grabbing your bag and tossing the strap over your shoulder, and making your way to your next class.

You may share the same general class schedule with the foul male, but you surely did not care to share each seat with him.

One class was enough. Thank god this one had single seats rather than double tables.

--

You sat in your seat, looking between the board and your paper, you felt your phone vibrate. You quickly finished up your rather messy notes and picked it up, not caring if the teacher saw you on your phone.

You were ahead in the note-taking anyways.

You quickly skimmed over the message. And typed in your half-hearted reply.

You sighed and set your phone back down, wanting to get these notes for your upcoming test. 

He wasn't too bad of a partner. You knew that much. He took on more of a lead role and liked to make most of the decisions when it came to a project. Which…worked out with you per say.

Humming softly, you decided to keep up with the notes, not caring for the other notifications from your phone.

__ Once your class had finally finished, you packed up your items and slung your bag over your shoulder, giving a quick look over your phone to see Scaramouche had left a message for you. His address it appeared.

“This guy is… something.” You mumbled to yourself, shaking your head as you walked down the hall and to the nearest door to leave school. 

You walked swiftly to the nearest bus stop and waited. Soon you would be at his house and start on this stupid assignment. You just hoped you two would get a high grade- though with him you were sure you would.

While on the bus to his place, you thought about all the other times you’ve worked with him. Which would be none. No one ever seemed to like pairing up with him, though you never really understood why.

He worked diligently and supposedly got high grades. Why wouldn’t they want to work with him? 

Sighing as you got off the bus, you thanked the driver and walked down the street and to his house. You had to do a double take at the address he sent you and the address you were at. Was this really his house?

You had to remind yourself who his parents were and the type of family he had. Rich people things you’d guess.

You ran your hands across the hedges as you approached the front door, marveling at the look of the front garden. They looked foreign yet so well-grown.

You shook your head from the clouds and made it up the steps and to the door, working up the little courage you had to knock. You flattened your shirt and pushed some of your hair out of your face. 

Why were you trying to fix your appearance? He was just a classmate- an attractive one yes. But why did that matter? Maybe it was because of his family's high status. Yeah, it was that.

It took a few moments for someone to answer the door, you heard quick and angry footsteps approaching the door. It opened to show an irritated Scaramouche, his school clothes now discarded and replaced by a different outfit.

“Who is it?” He asked, brows furrowed before he noticed it was you. “Oh, it’s you. Come in.” He stepped to the side, letting you in.

You stepped inside the rather spacious home, quickly taking off your shoes to follow the quick male.

“My moms are out. This would have been a lot easier with them, since our family… yknow.” He sighed, knowing full well most of the world knew of his family's lineage. He opened the door to his room and once more stepped to the side to let you in.

You nodded at him, walked into the room, and stood near his bed. You looked around quickly before your eyes landed on Scaramouche once more. 

“Do you ever talk? Or are you mute?” He suddenly asked, having picked on the fact you don’t talk often. His facial expression was rather, unreadable. Why did he even bring this up? 

“I- uhm…” You tried to answer, and he gave you next to no chance. He walked closer to you and put a hand on your shoulder, pushing you down so you could sit on the bed. 

“Now that I think about it, you’re always wearing this mask.” He whispered, the proximity of you two close enough to hear him.

“Well I-” He cut you off once more by grabbing your mask, pulling it down quickly and smoothly.

“I never said you could speak. I simply asked if you could. And you’ve since answered my question.” He said, shaking his head slightly while eyeing you.

“Be quiet.” He whispered and leaned in, pressing a kiss to your lips.

To that, you sat there stunned, and flustered. 

Maybe he didn’t want to work with anyone but you.

#scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #scara x reader #scaramouche fluff #genshin #genshin impact #genshin fanfic #genshin impact fanfic #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin fluff #genshin impact fluff #sorin whispers #-sorin whispers writing

[unsaidcurses]

hi i saw you write for robert shwartzman and i think he is so under appreciated especially when it comes to fanfic!! could you please write something friends to lovers with him maybe with the whole “oh no there’s only one bed i guess we have to share” trope 🥺 i would owe you my life i love your writing

summary: robert hosts a party. it doesn’t continue as it was supposed to, but it’s alright anyway.

pairing: robert shwartzman x driver!reader

warning: alcohol

wordcount: 2,3 k

a/n: this is set back in the golden prema/fda days (i miss them so much) after months i finally finished this??? it’s been an eternity, thanks uni,  love u too </3

you could hear light music mixed with laughter coming out of the slightly opened main window of the house. you just arrived at robert’s place, where he decided to host what was supposed to be something between a small gathering and a party with members of the ferrari academy, who also happened to be his closest friends.

you, marcus and callum lived pretty close, so you had agreed long ago to always share one car whenever you planned to go to a party, so that at least two people could drink, while the other remained sober to drive them safely home, and tonight the chosen driver was marcus.

when you knocked on the door, you didn't have to wait long to be met with a smiley gianluca. he didn’t hesitate to pull you in a hug, soon after passing over to the boys, giving them their usual handshake.

“hey guys, how are you? welcome in!" the brazilian exclaimed eagerly when he greeted you. as you followed the orders, you entered the house, which, to your surprise, was adorned with fanciful lights, even on the sofa where mick, jehan, and robert sat.

“i didn’t expect christmas to arrive a month earlier this year!” you exclaimed walking towards the boys with the intention of hugging them. while the first two laughed at your joke standing up to greet you, the house's owner crossed his arms and wore a pout on his face, causing an even louder laugh from everybody.

"come on rob, i was kidding. you know i love christmas." you seriously replied engulfing him. and just when he finally gave in and placed his arms around your body as a sign to both forgive you and greet you, callum talked.

"of course he knows. that's exactly why they are there."

robert actually considered for three seconds to leave his spot and kick him, but it would have been suspicious, so he opted for staying where he was, thinking of something that could save him from a possible embarrassing moment.

"i also bought your favourite gin and marcus' tequila." he shrugged his shoulder dismissively. "i want my friends to enjoy their night, so there are things around you like."

although callum almost blurted out your name, as you were the thing around he liked, on the other hand his brain stopped his mouth in time, deciding that waiting for everybody to be tipsy before putting him through that carnage would be funnier.

suddenly the main lights turned down leaving a confused expression on everyone's face, until marcus, from the side of the room where the switches were, started talking.

"now that we are all here, can we start the party?"

"yes kid, we can"

-

some hours elapsed by and the majority of the boys were tiredly sitting on the sofa, while you and mick were drunkenly putting together some moves, which i'm not sure it can be called dancing, on the light jazz that was playing in the background. you didn't know the process that brought etta james to be played, considering not even half an hour prior all you could listen to was some edm music, but since the phone attached to the speakers was roberts's, you imagined it happened by his hand. and indeed it was him, after he heard the knocking on the wall from his neighbour when he walked in the kitchen to get a drink, realizing just then how late it was and they were being way too loud.

when the song ended, you collapsed on the armrest of the sofa where marcus was sitting. noticing his eyes were halfway closed from tiredness, you announced it was your time to leave.

"cal, let's go home maybe? marc is half asleep." you asked turning in his direction. he still hadn't answered, but you immediately noticed something in his look was off.

"marcus? are you sleepy or drunk?" callum examined his flatmate noticing his slouching on the couch and, for he doesn't understand what reason, the red ears, which was the common pattern he witnesses only when he was out drinking.

"mh, sleepy and drunk. allegedly sleepy because drunk." he replied cuddling to your side seeking a soft spot to rest his head, unsuccessfully since you stood up straight away.

"marcus! you were supposed to stay sober, it was your turn to drive us home!" you shouted at the boy, fully aware that telling him this now wouldn't change a thing. not surprised, callum let his head hanging down, reflecting on the possibility of driving them home, immediately dismissing it as he drank as well.

years of training reflexes to recognize when they are not on spot to drive, useful.

you stood there looking at your friend, pondering what was the best choice to bring you home safe and sound. since all of you had too much alcohol in your body, driving was not an option, and neither was walking because your house was too far away and marcus was clearly not in the condition to do so, nor ride a bicycle.

so basically you were screwed, except for the fact that you were at robert's house and, as the good party host he claims to be, he had the right solution for you.

"i think i have enough space for everybody to sleep here," he glanced around the living room thinking about how many people could fit on his couch. "three people can stay in the guest room, two on the sofa and two in my room."

"oh my- you are a godsend rob!" you excitedly jumped on him, after he saved you from a walk of kilometres holding your drunk friend.

you weren't the only one in the room having a realization though. in fact, while you were busy hugging robert, gianluca called shotgun for the guest room, fancying some due rest on a proper mattress, and mick and jehan reflexively run up the stairs, going for the room wishing the same as the younger driver. at the end of the day, they were already supposed to stay over, without expecting anybody to mess up their plan by getting drunk when not supposed to.

"it doesn't look like marc is gonna move anytime soon," callum said with half-closed eyelids looking at his full asleep friend, "and i don't think i have the energy to do any different, so i guess we'll take the couch."

the blond boy reached for the cupboard, taking out a blanket and kindly laying it out on his academy's teammates. the older of the two thanked him with a little smile and a yawn, while the new zealander was way to gone to be minimally conscious.

then robert nodded towards the staircase, to let you know his intention to go to his room, and you followed him

"did i seriously win the spot on the comfiest bed of the house without an effort? it must be my lucky day!" you ratiocinated walking up the stairs alongside rob, who was some steps behind you since he stopped to switch off the lights of the living room to let the boys sleep more comfortably.

"are you sure you don't mind sharing the bed? i can always stay with marcus and callum" he halted temporarily in case you didn't like the idea of sleeping together in a so small space.

"of course, rob. besides, it's your bed, if anything i would be the one on the couch." you insisted turning to him, beckoning him to stick to you.

once in his room, the atmosphere change pretty drastically for the russian. having his long time crush in his personal space was a new thing for him, which got him pretty flustered, not knowing how to act. not that you noticed it, while changing into your pajamas. if you only knew how that made robert freeze on the spot. notify him next time, please.

some giggles from the adjacent room distracted both of you and saved the blonde's brain from buffering over and over again.

"did we really think it was a smart idea to leave gianluca in the same room as jehan?" you questioned ironically, "they will keep us awake all night."

"definitely"

still laughing, you and your fluffy pyjamas got under the blanket on the bed on the opposite side of where a bedside table with some of rob's stuff laying around was set, inducing it was the part where he usually slept. you moved around a bit, trying to find some comfort in the unknown environment, meanwhile the blonde changed his clothes as well, getting in an old unused t shirt and some short, which looked a bit too light for your liking, but he was surely better used to cold temperatures than you were thanks to his childhood spent in russia. after taking the spare pillow on the chair, he walked to his side of the bed pushing the one already on the mattress in your direction to offer the most comfortable one between the two. lucky me callum is not here to tease me right now, rob reflected.

sleeply, you accepted it, not wanting to start the "you take it" “no, you take it" conversation in the middle of the night, watching the other finally getting under the duvet with a satisfied look on his face.

once both of you settle in the small bed, you relaxed finding some peace to sleep, but a fresh breeze hitting you feet cause that moment to be really brief. at first, you decided it wasn't particularly bothersome, so you let it pass, but when all the warm the blanket was radiating was disappearing because of it and it became distracting for your sleep, you decided to investigate the cause.

"rob, you're too tall." watching under the duvet, you noticed he was laying with his legs straight and his feet didn't fit in the bed, leaving a gap at the end of it where the cold air could come in.

the small bed was not only narrow, but also too short.

"i know, i'm sorry. in theory the mattress is a full size, but in actuality it is a small-european size." he apologized for moving slightly to fit better, but without really knowing how.

"isn't it easier if you just bend your legs?" you suggested seeing his discomfort. in response, the blonde did what you said but towards the wall, the opposite direction of what you had in mind, putting himself in another uncomfortable position as well. "i meant in this way, dumbass."

when you brutally put a hand on his knee to pull his legs on your side he was a little taken aback. he didn't want to intrude your space, and doing so your legs were all intertwined, and he couldn't stop thinking about whose legs his were crossing. it wasn't exactly like the time he slept with marcus during a grand prix because the radiator in his room was broken.

"am i-... do you, i mean..." he started stuttering, trying to form a proper sentence while you were looking at him, which was pretty distracting if you couldn't tell. "are my legs bothering you? i can move them if you-"

"it was a pretext to get you to do something about this." the boy was interrupted by your sentence, which wasn't entirely clear to him.

"about what?" he questioned back with a confused expression on his face. what he said made you laugh a bit, you honestly couldn't tell if he was doing it on purpose or was actually obnoxious.

"we can avoid the elephant in the room any longer or you can just cuddle me like normal people that like each other usually do."

you dropped the bomb, hoping you didn't misunderstand all the signals, otherwise that would be really embarrassing, but considering all the glances, the sweet actions only aimed at you, callum's jokes and the general tension sometimes was there between you two for absolutely no reason, you assumed this was not the case.

the boy looked at you with a blank expression, processing the words. has he been so obvious, too obvious, about his feelings? or was it his friends' fault with all the remarks? but mainly:

"each other? so you-"

"yes rob, i like you."

those icy eyes were looking at you like you told him a f1 seat was his. he didn't know how to form the concept he wanted to pronounce, letting him gasping. his reaction made some insecurities crawl into you, interrupting the eye contact you were previously holding, which didn't go unnoticed by the boy, causing an immediate reaction from him.

"that's good," out of all the words existing in the english vocabulary, these were the ones that came out. seriously? so he tried to fix his mistake by adding a "i mean- it's good because i like you too."

a nervous laugh escaped your lips, followed by a push on his shoulder. that was really horribly phrased, lucky him you liked him.

"good to know. now, i've been awake for like... nineteen hours? so if you don't mind, i would postpone this conversation to next morning when both of us will have more faculties to properly talk about it. the worst part of admiting it is done, anyhow." you yawned stretching around. with your legs still intertwined, the boy started fidgeting before opening his mouth and unsurely give voice to his thoughts.

"can i still hug you?"

you felt an overload of tenderness hearing the request, accompanied by the cute expression on robert's face, typical of someone in the beginning stages of a new relationship, with a lot of adoration, but plenty of insecurities. your natural answer was to scoot over and lay your head on his shoulder, which in response received a weird entanglement of arms around your body and a bright smile.

"goodnight rob" you murmured to the boy on your side, who answered you in the same way before settling down, with silence and calmness filling the room, knowing that at least callum now will stop messing with you on your unrevealed crushes.

#robert shwartzman #robert shwartzman imagine #robert shwartzman x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f2 imagine #f2 x reader

[archerlullaby]

For writing, how bout the moment the chain meets Twilight’s childhood friend Ilia. Like how’d they respond to how they are together (friend or relationship it’s up to you) how Twilight is around ilia…..enjoy

ANON THIS IS SUCH A CUTE IDEA! Ilia is such a girlboss and I’m surprised that there aren’t more works out there that have her in it. AND TWI??? Even though he’s a big scary fella on the outside I’m sure he’s the biggest cinnamon roll on the inside. IM SURE HE GETS SO FLUSTERED—

As a side note, I had to keep myself from making Twilight say “Yer darn tootin”, and I can’t tell if I’m pleased or disappointed in myself. Anyways, here’s the food:

Home to You

Twilight groans as he picks his face up from the dirt. He was absolutely certain that the Goddess had it out for him, as his experiences of going through a portal often leave him with a mouthful of mud and grass. To add insult to injury, Time thinks it’s hilarious, and often gives little quips about it whenever can. In fact, it’s Time who hoists him up by his baldric, grinning like a child.

“Didn’t know you went vegan, Rancher!” He says, voice barely hiding a laugh. Twilight growls, spits out the leaves in his mouth, and slaps Time’s hand off his shoulder. Standing, he adjusts his wolf pelt with as much dignity as he could muster. His irritation is short-lived, however, when the familiar scent of his Hyrule makes itself apparent. His heart speeds up, excitement fluttering in his stomach as a wide grin grows on his face. It’s been months since he’s been home. Months! It’s been longer still since he’s been in Ordon Village, as most of the Chain’s adventures lead them primarily to Hyrule Castle.

Twilight turns towards Hyrule, who currently has his hands on his knees and looks like he is about to hurl into the bushes.

“Chin up, Roolie!” He grins, “You can’t be feeling sick when you’re in Ordon! You still have yet to try the famous pumpkin soup!” Hyrule groans, doing his best to settle his stomach. “It’s made with the heartiest pumpkins,” —Hyrule lurches— “The creamiest goat cheese,”—Hyrule turns greener— “And to top it off, the nutrient-filled head of a Rockfish! Eyes and all!” Hyrule finally slaps a hand to his mouth.

“Please stop, I’m begging you,” he groans weakly. Twilight relents and wraps an arm around the smaller man’s shoulders.

“Sorry, I’m just happy to be home!”

Wild picks his way over to his mentor, eyes bright and curious.

“So, where do we go from here? Your village, I’m guessing?” He asks, pulling a twig from his hair and looking at it thoughtfully.

“That’s right, Cub,” Twilight replies, snatching the twig away before Wild can put it in his mouth.

“Then let’s get going! It’s about time I sleep in an actual bed without you know who drooling on me,” Legend butts in and give a pointed stare at Sky, who merely shrugs and smiles. “And,” Legend continues, “I would like at least one night of my life not having to worry about getting mauled by one of Wild’s stupid bears! My hat still hasn’t recovered.” He looks forlornly at his cap, which has six very conspicuous-looking holes in it. Twilight claps him on the shoulder.

“Not to worry, Leg. We’ve got the best bear-free accommodations in the region, and it’s only a half day journey. We’ll make it by nightfall if we start now!” Twilight starts walking through the trees as the others eagerly fall in behind him, spurred on by the promise of beds to sleep on and a warm evening meal.

It takes the group less than half a day’s journey, Twilight’s excitement quickening their pace. The sun, although low in the sky, has yet to touch the horizon as the enter through the village gates. Twilight pauses and takes a big breath in, the familiar scent of sun warmed gardens and grazing animals chasing away any remnants of homesickness. His eyes are drawn towards two small figures rushing towards him

“Liiiiiiiiinnnkkk!” Their voices bounce with each step as the two boys run down the dirt path.

“Malo! Talo!” He laughs, spreading his arms as the boys all but tackle him. When they finally let go, they bounce around him, pulling at his trousers and hands. “How you both have grown!”

The others watch on in mild amusement as their resident tough-guy is harassed by children. The brothers’ loud voices alert the other children in the village, and it’s not long before Twilight has a kid perched on his shoulders, another hooked to his hip, and two others wrapped around each of his legs, weighing down his steps. It’s like this that he makes his way towards his house, running in to other residents of the town along the way. Pergie and Jaggle both wave from their doorstep, and call in Malo and Talo for dinner. The two leave reluctantly, but not before forcing Twilight to promise to show them more bow skills. Rusl greets him with a firm handshake and a pat on the back and Uli pulls him into a crushing hug, planting a kiss on his cheek.

“We know you’re tired dear. We’ve kept your home clean and tidy while you were away, but if you need anything at all, you know where to find us!” Uli winks. She turns to the remaining kids clinging onto Twilight. “And the rest of you, shoo! Link and his friends need rest. You can see him tomorrow!” Twilight nods his thanks, and gestures to the others to follow, trudging the rest of the way to his home.

Opening the door, he smile and beckons everyone in. Wind and Warriors make a beeline for the pile of pillows in the corner, shoving each other out of the way, as Sky gently rests the Master Sword against a cabinet and promptly collapses on the rug.

“Make yourselves comfortable. Wild, can you whip up something—”

“Already on it,” Wild says as he heads back outside.

“Thanks. And please, my home is your home, so don’t feel like—”

“Link?” A soft voice floats down from the loft. A sudden quiet descends upon the group, seven pairs of eyes staring up at the figure of a young woman with gentle eyes and short, lopsided hair. Twilight, the only one not immediately facing the loft, slowly turns around, eyes wide and breath short. When he sees her, his brain promptly short-circuits.

“Ah…I…uh,” he struggles. Finally, he just lifts his hands and simply signs hi. She laughs (like bells, he thinks) and slides down the ladder before approaching him and putting her hands on her hips.

“Hi, farmboy,” she smiles, and Twilight can’t do anything but sheepishly rub the back of his neck. This was his downfall, as this gesture was another attribute that every Link shared, and by Hylia they know what it means.

“You have a girlfriend?” Warriors all but yells.

“Uh—” Twilight is cut off by Time, who comes up behind him and rests his hands on Twilights shoulders.

“Hi. I’m Time. Welcome to the family. I’m happy to see my son is not a lost cause.” Twilight is mortified and buried his face in his hands as Ilia merely laughs and raises an eyebrow. Legend leans on the wall next to her.

“I’m not going to say I’m surprised. I’m not a surprised type of guy. But how in Hylia’s name did you get past the wet dog smell?”

“Wet dog? I think it smells more like goats,” Four chimes in. Wind nods, a shit-eating grin appearing on his face.

“Not to mention he eats like a wild animal!” The Sailor chortles.

“And snores like one too,” Hyrule mumbles.

“ENOUGH!” Twilight wails and shoos everyone back with his hands. His face and neck were red, redder than anyone in the group had ever seen, and the group took far too much delight in seeing their usually broody brother squirm in embarrassment. Twilight turns back to Ilia, unable to meet her eyes.

“This, um, this is the group I’ve been traveling with. You haven’t met them yet ‘cause the last time we were here you and your Pa were in the next village over,” he explains.

“I see,” she replies, holding in a laugh. Twilight all but sighs and goes to turn away to wallow in his humiliation, but before he can, Ilia grabs his shoulders. “Come back here, you!” Her laugh bubbles out of her lips and she pulls him into a bear hug. He melts into it, almost draping himself over her smaller frame. A collective awww from the group and a whistle from Wars makes Ilia stand on her tiptoes and peek over Twilight’s shoulder.

“Now hush!” She says sternly. Everyone’s mouths immediately snap shut. “This poor boy has had enough embarrassment for one evenin.” Twilight nods into her shoulder.

The others finally began to go about their own business, stealing amused glances at the couple. It was Sky who timidly approaches the two when Twilight finally broke the hug.

“Hi, I’m Sky. You seem like a very nice person!” Sky’s smile was nothing if not genuine. Ilia returns it

“Ilia. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I notice you didn’t chime in on embarrassing my farmboy here,” she pats Twilight’s shoulder. Sky laughs.

“I get the same treatment when we visit my home, trust me when I tell you. I figured I’d let him catch a break this time,” he replies, throwing a wink towards Twi. He nods his thanks, but not before he looses a large yawn, one which Sky can’t help but return. The Skyloftian stretches and heads towards the lounge.

“You all must be exhausted!” She turns back towards Twilight, “I’ve been the one keeping your home ready for you. Why don’t you go settle down and I’ll make you all some warm milk?”

“Could you, maybe, stay with me for a little while longer? Then you can warm the milk?”

She smiles softly.

“How can I refuse those puppy-dog eyes? Fine. Come on, then.” She grabs his hand and pulls him towards the lounge where everyone else had made themselves comfortable. He makes his way to a vacant space and gently pushes an already sleepy Sky to lean the other way. Settling in on one of the cushioned seats, Twilight pulls Ilia down next to him and hooks an arm around her to pull her close as she snuggles in to his side. He allows himself a small smile and rests his head on top of hers. It was then he caught Time’s gaze. It was soft and warm, his eyes crinkling slightly at the edges. It was a look only reserved for moments when he spoke of home and family, or when Wind would best one of the older boys in a spar. A rare look to be certain. Twilights smile grew. He’s proud of me. He closes his eyes and lets himself take in the comfort of his home, the woman at his side, Sky’s soft snores, and even the muted bickering between Wars, Wind, and Legend about something or the other. He feels safe. Warm. Loved. It was the most peaceful he’s felt for so long, and he basks in the feeling. That is, until Wild kicks the door open with a loud BANG that has everyone scrambling.

“Dinners done. Wait, what the hell?” He drops the food. “YOU’VE GOT A WIFE?”

Twilight groans and hides his face in Ilia’s hair. This was going to be a long evening.

#twilight linked universe #linked universe #link x ilia #twilight princess #fanfic #wait twilight has a girlfriend????? #no he says as he holds Ilias hand #twilight just wants some pumpkin soup #and a hug #Time is a dad #the chain are the annoying brothers #twilight can’t catch a break #w #no beta we die like men

[yarameijer]

SO I HAVE A BRAINROT - I'm just gonna share my thoughts here with you because, well, why not? Yara, you've become a safe place of mine and generally, make me feel so entertained and content with your writing especially since the pandemic🥹 I hope you're doing well there, and I hope you'll feel better soon!

But anyway, onto the brainrot: What if Tenma has ADHD? How would the story go? How would Raimon and his friends react to this? How will they deal with it? Or how will Tenma deal with it?

I imagine that could be the reason why he can be impulsive (I've searched that impulsiveness can be a main sign or symptom of ADHD, but to those who has ADHD, please feel free to correct me, I don't mean to offend anyone.).

I also imagine that Tenma can be forgetful at times and thus would forget to drink his medication and his friends would be the ones to remind him just in case. Speaking of, I feel like he'd either have a hard time focusing in class or unable to sit still during class. Either of them works in this AU, I guess?

That's all, I'd love to hear your thoughts and your personal headcanons about this AU! Have a great day and once again, praying for your recovery!

Hey!! Sorry for the incredibly late reply, I just sort of dropped tumblr without meaning to. And every time I opened it I ended up procrastinating even more… whoops.

But! I’m here now! So let’s get to it!

(Tenma with ADHD is honestly not something I have considered before. Please understand that all my experience with it is from having classmates in elementary school with ADHD and research I did online to answer this, so it might not all be accurate, but I’ll try my best!)

Tenma is already a very active and excitable kid, which means that when it comes to soccer, not overly much changes? It’s a great way to burn off energy and move around a lot, which is really helpful for him! The way his ADHD shows mostly is through the way he moves; he’s constantly fidgeting, or playing with things he’s holding, or bouncing his knee up and down. He just can’t seem to sit still for longer than a few minutes, which, again, when it comes to soccer, doesn’t matter overly much. Outside of training and matches, however, especially during team discussions or strategy meetings, it can get distracting and even cause tension especially in the early weeks of the schoolyear.

One noteworthy thing is that Tenma rambles, without really meaning to. He’s already got some insecurity issues, and that coupled with a hyperactivity disorder means he’s likely to just ramble on especially when he feels unsure or excited (AKA whenever he talks about soccer). It doesn’t do much to endear him to the more reserved members on the team, and it’s a habit he’s very bothered by.

Unfortunately Japan is not as supportive towards people with mental disorders as other countries, which in this case means that although Tenma has an official diagnosis, he prefers to keep it quiet. On the team, Aoi is the only one who is aware of this, and has been a genuine blessing to Tenma ever since elementary school. While Tenma mostly suffers from the hyperactivity part of ADHD, he can have trouble focusing, or rather be too active to really sit down and focus on for example studying. Aoi and Tenma were not in the same class before, but they were in the same year and she would offer her notes and extra tutoring whenever Tenma needed, and by the time they join Raimon Jr. High, it’s become an unspoken routine. Tenma and Aoi hang out more often than they do in the original story; they’ve got a few set homework sessions every week at one of their houses, and usually spend at least some time every week studying in the library.

Their little study sessions are quickly joined by Shinsuke, and later on the rest of the first-years, although neither Tenma nor Aoi ever mention the reasons they started them. Aoi is very defensive of anyone making a comment about Tenma’s attitude towards schoolwork (which is thankfully not often necessary amongst the team, beyond a few mishaps at the start) but also very strict towards Tenma if need be.

I imagine the older students sometimes help out with schoolwork as well, although not always towards Tenma specifically but rather just the first-years. Shindou and Kirino at some point figure out Tenma’s got ADHD, and Shindou at some point mentions it privately. Tenma freaks out a bit, but Shindou reassures him he doesn’t mind, and is especially helpful when Tenma becomes captain later on, taking on a supportive role.

Despite the tension at the start of the year, eventually that fades as the team gets to know each other better. Shindou tends to be a bit of a crybaby (but don’t mention that on pain of death). Hayami stutters his way through most of his conversations and once literally screeched in the middle of match because Kariya (no further explanation necessary). Tenma is known to start rambling when he’s excited and once climbed every tree next to Raimon’s soccer field because Aoi said he should (she meant well, but it did get them some weird looks). Hikaru’s way of dealing with intense frustration is to go to a secluded spot and scream until he calms down (boy, was that a fun training camp).

Tenma eventually tells Shinsuke on accident, but Shinsuke doesn’t really care either way and is just happy to hang out with someone who can be just as, or even more, excitable as himself. Tenma doesn’t really tell the rest of the team for a while, though; at some point he does, after they’ve been friends for longer, but to be honest, Raimon being so (unconsciously) supportive has gone a long way with making him feel more confident about himself. Whereas before he wouldn’t mention it because of the stigma, now he doesn’t mention it because it doesn’t seem like anyone on the team really cares? They’re all weird. They’ve all got their little quirks. Tenma having an unexpected obsession with fidget spinners really doesn’t even reach the top 10 of ‘weird’ in their lives.

I hope you enjoyed, and again, apologies for the late response!

#inazuma eleven go #inazuma eleven #ina11 #ie11 #ie go #raimon #matsukaze tenma

[feyre-darling92]

What am I to you

Cassian Andor x F!Reader

T/W: Nothing too serious, some typical violence, angst, that’s all I can think about, let me know if I missed anything.

Word Count: 1,231

A/N: Guess who decided not to be useful to society and write fics again? Yep, that’s me! Anyways, hope you like it.

Synopsis: When you first met Andor you were just a rebel to him, as he was to you. While on a mission you get to know each other better. Will the way you see each other change? Or not?

“What am I to you?” you asked not taking your eyes off the campfire.

“Excuse me?”

You knew he had heard perfectly well.

“You heard me, Andor”

“Why do you ask?” his eyes lifted to meet yours but instead he found them focused elsewhere, you were clearly avoiding his stare.

“Because we are going towards our possible death. You chose me for this mission because I know that you were actually the one in charge. One does not choose the person who will go on this suicide mission alone at random yet now, you act like I am a big burden to you” your stare finally met his.

You and Cassian had been assigned on missions together in the past but nothing too serious or too dangerous as this. So this changed the whole situation.

Regardless, you always acted cold around each other, for no particular reason though.

“Has anyone told you that you overanalyze things?”

“This neither changes nor answers my question”

And he answered with the exact same words you expected to hear, “A rebel. A soldier who has great abilities hence the fact that I chose you. Is this enough?”

You just nodded and no one talked for the rest of the night, even though both of you had much to say.

--------

The next day you dressed like villagers and went out to search for any additional information that would help you.

“It’s best if we don’t separate. We’re already causing suspicions, let’s not challenge our luck” He said with a low voice so only you could hear him.

“If they ask, what are our identities?”

“Are you sure you wanna know?”

“I’ve survived much worse. Just say it” you rolled your eyes and kept walking.

“You’re my fiancee”

“You were right. But where are the rings?”

“The what?”

“The rings, Andor. Do you not know that when a man proposes to a woman, he proposes with a ring? At least the majority of times”

“I am not that idiot” he frowned

“Then act like it” you couldn’t help but reply as such.

You spent the rest of the day collecting information while trying to keep a low profile, which was not easy at all. Everywhere you went everyone looked at you suspiciously though you didn’t stand out that much.

“We’d better return” you muttered as you walked through a dark alley. It was already night and you had a bad feeling.

“I don’t think it’s a-”

“You two, hands up” you heard a voice behind you. You slowly turned around, hands above your head, and faced three imperials. You knew that there was some imperial activity in this village but you were always careful not to get caught.

Well, at least you tried.

You and Cassian exchanged a worried look but did not speak.

“Who are you?” one of them asked, but none of you replied.

“Are you deaf? Who are you?” They aimed their weapons at you.

“We’re just villagers” Cassian replied but no one seemed to believe him. Luckily you had your blaster with you so you waited for his signal.

“C’mon darling” he turned to you, “Tell them that I say the truth”

“He is” you confirmed.

“Show us identifications” they didn’t lower their weapons.

“Yeah, of course just let me find them” Cassian searched in his coat and you understood that this was the signal because he reached for his blaster.

You took hold of yours and fired, hitting one of them. Cassian took out the rest and you ran.

Only when you reached your hiding place did you stop, “That was close” you tried to catch your breath sitting on the ground.

“We need to strike tonight”

“Are you serious?” you raised your eyebrows, “We almost got caught, wasn’t this enough for you?”

“I hoped you understood at least the simplest thing. Tomorrow we will have a bounty on our heads”

“I know. But do you think it is easier to go blind, without a plan or a possible exit?” you raised your voice annoyed that he didn’t listen.

“If you doubt my crisis then your free to leave. But now, I am in charge of this mission so you either listen or you walk away!” He yelled and you stood up.

“I am not a coward!”

“I can see that” he whispered but you heard it. That was your breaking point.

“Excuse me? I am the coward? You are literally ready to risk your lives because you’re too afraid that they might catch you tomorrow. You don’t even know what will happen!”

“I am the captain on this mission. Not you, me!” he shouted obviously fed up with this argument.

“Alright, Captain” you walked past him not wanting to face him for the next few seconds.

“Y/N, I didn’t mean-”

“I know exactly what you meant Andor. Just give me a few minutes” you replied stiffly. And surprisingly he did.

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

“Don’t move, Captain” you greeted with your teeth as you tried to stitch his arm.

“Sorry” he muttered and tried not to move.

You were lucky and you had made it out alive slightly injured but too shaken. You almost died back here.

“Sorry. About earlier” it came out more forced than he’d like but he wanted you to know it.

“You have nothing to apologize for. You were right. You’re the captain for a reason. I am just a rebel who accepts orders”

“No, that’s not-”

“That’s what you said the other day. And you know it’s true” you cut him off.

“C’mon. You know I didn’t mean it”

“You know, we’re very much alike”

“What do you mean?”

“We’re both soldiers. Rebels who know nothing else than war. We were raised this way and grew up too soon. Am I wrong?” you had finished stitching him and you had turned, facing the campfire in front of you.

“You’re not just a soldier. Not to me at least” he admitted after a few minutes of silence.

“Then what am I?” you said without looking at him.

He didn’t reply. Instead, he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and you placed your head on his shoulder.

“I am sorry too”

“It’s ok”

You didn’t want to talk, you just wanted comfort. So you stayed like that for the rest of the night.

And even though you hadn’t been clear about what you were to each other you knew that something had changed.

----------

On your way back you didn’t talk, you didn’t know what to say. And when you landed, that’s when you parted ways.

Two days had passed and you hadn’t heard from him even though you wanted to. Until the third day, you heard a knock on your door.

“Who is it?” you asked from behind the door.

“Y/N, it’s me” you heard a familiar voice from the other side.

You opened it and met a different Cassian, a Cassian you’d never seen before. His face was unreadable, he was obviously tired and his posture gave away that he was uncertain of what to do.

“What do you want?” you asked a little confused.

“I wanted you to know what you are to me”

“What?”

“You’re not a soldier. Not a rebel and certainly not a random person” he took a breath and looked at you with his brown eyes that glowed in the dark.

“Then what am I, Cassian?”

“My everything”

#cassian x reader #cassian andor x reader #cassian andor x you #feyre-darling92 #feyre darling92 #star wars x reader #star wars fanfiction