#i actually hate this but i have no idea what else to write

[minhosimthings]

Elysian || 18+

Synopsis: you never wanted to fall for the only son of the family yours hated. And yet you did.

Pairings: Mafia boss!Hyunjin × fem!reader

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI 18+, mentions of dagger, kind of knife play?, P in v sex, fingering, angst, fluff, forbiddened love, mafia boss au, mention of poison, blood, food and alcohol, reader wears a dress, implied mental abuse, fluffy at the end but it's really angsty in the middle sorry yall

A/N: ahhh this took a lot of time to write because I wanted everything to be PERFECT. and in my opinion this is the best shit I've ever written Mona 2am brain go burr. Also this is dedicated to my beloved @astraystayyh and Hyunjin's photoshoots which have made me go feral approximately 143 times

Red.

You remembered it as a hibiscus, decorating the gardens of your family's estate as child. You remembered it as the ugly hue of your grandmother's rug, the only thing you'd fixate on whenever the stench of blood filled your nose. You remembered it as your family's emblem, in a kingdom of money and roses and whatnot. You remembered red as death.

But you never thought you would have remembered red as the colour which outlined the shadows of the painting in front you.

You never though red would remind you of one of your most favourite persons ever, of his plump pink lips and gorgeous waterfall of hair you would decorate with rose petals anyday.

You never thought red would remind you of Hwang Hyunjin.

Red, as the multifaceted colour it is, fascinated you. It was like an idea in your head, hard to drive out, impossible to kill. What was red truly? What shades did it hide?

Red as a ladybug or red as a lobster? Red as a tulip or red as red as a new bride's cheeks? Red as lipstick or red as a gown? Red as roses or red as blood?

Red as the dominating colour of Hyunjin's palette was the correct answer to you most of the time.

You could recall the first time you had ever met him. Five months ago or had it been a year? You didn't remember much, just the fact that Hwang Hyunjin saved you, the 'enemy' from a bullet wound when he could have let you rot and made his family proud. The Hwangs were nefarious for their merciless behaviour, and yet you found in Hyunjin, a different kind of warmer mercy.

A mercy which you preferred because no one else gave it to you.

And that was how you found comfort in Hyunjin, a sense of familiarity that made you believe that you could be your true self with him and not just another painted version of you. Granted, he did paint you, in various shades of golds, violets and reds.

Painstaking as they were, you loved your short lived secret sessions with him. He was like a thief, quietly sneaking in through a window, and stealing away your heart with his demeanor.

Both of you came from families who despised each other, there was a certain Romeo-Juliet element to it all that both amused and frightened you.

But no matter what thing troubled you, you always had your memories with him to come back to. Especially those soft tender moments when you realised how much you craved a normal life away from the money and the blood.

You remembered one moment better than most others. It was the first time you said the poisonous word. It was that time in Italy...or was it Belgium? All you seemed to actually recall was the time you first walked into the love which Hyunjin gave you.

Dark chocolate eyes flickered over your naked body as it sunk beneath warm water, a bottle of liquid soap shone a bit in the candlelight as Hyunjin poured it into your tub. His ethereal figure was like a God in the pale moonlight coming from the tiny window.

“Just a little something extra to provide you some… relief,” he smiled, dipping his elegant hand into the waters to stir it around.

Hyunjin knew you were an assassin, carefully molded into one by your family, nevertheless he saw more than what he was supposed to. He saw you as a human instead. A human who was tired of all the blood she had spilt.

Your body easing into the water, you barely noticed the ripples of Hyunjin slipping his carved body beside you. It barely registered, his arm wrapping around you, the warm water pouring down your neck to rinse off the blood, the trickles that run down your face as he wets your hair and washed it clean of sweat and more.

You couldn't remember the last time you had felt like this, so relaxed so taken care of. So you said it, you said the word without a moment's waste.

"I love you" you had blurted out without a second thought, "I love you, Hwang Hyunjin." The name mattered to you in ways you hadn't ever fathomed before.

And the worst thing was he said it back. With a kiss to imprint it.

And now here you were, eyes flickering between the ceiling and each other. The warm light of the massive ballroom shone its glory onto you as you clutched your champagne tight to your bosom, making sure to distract yourself with it, whenever your stolen glances at Hyunjin were caught by someone.

You hadn't been forced to attend the ball by any means by your family, in fact you volunteered for it. You had waited eagerly for your target's name, your mother stressed that it was an important one, and as the quietest daughter it would have been easy for you to kill in plain sight and prove once and for all to your father that you were ready to take over as the heir to his 'buisness'. Maybe you'd finally have the fame and the power you craved off as a child, like some starved deer eating its own kind.

But now, you clutched the tiny vile of hemlock close to your hip, carefully dropping it into your pocket, all the while staring at Hyunjin across the room, who was laughing with someone you recognised as a painter Hyunjin adored. His raucous yet polite laughter, gorgeous strands of hair framing his face, your heart sobbed at the thought of slipping poison into his veins.

If you had even a modicum of respect for your own head, maybe you would have sneaked the hemlock into his drink at the slightest moment. Unfortunately though, you didn't and so it came to be that you resorted to dissecting a serene painting until hopefully Hyunjin ultimately noticed you.

The painting fascinated you, it was one you hadn't ever seen before. Dark blue traced the outlines two people, with grey hair and wisened foreheads, holding hands through a rough brown canvas. You smiled at the painting before taking a sip of your champagne. Love, eternally, was one of Hyunjin's most beloved topics to waste all his blue paint on.

Words rushed through your mind as your eyes traced each brushstroke. Whips of harsh sentences and scenes of conversations, contrasting the soft daubs of paint, flashed in front of your eyes.

'The Parks? Mum I can't do that!'

'You want to be useful to this family? Marry him and you'll be more than useful'

'But Mum...!'

'You think you have a say in this? Shut up and do what's good for that useless head of yours'

"Admiring my work, my love?"

You flinched slightly at the different voice, which sounded like spring rain and lily pads. Spinning on your heel to face the source of the voice, you found yourself melting into a pair of beautiful eyes, the kind of eyes that made thieves wonder why they ever bothered to steal pieces of art. His eyes—the color of an intoxicating champagne—beckoned you over with nothing more than a warm smile.

"What?" Hyunjin chuckled, seeing you stare at him, "Did I get fondue on my lips again?"

"No, just..." You trailed off, not finding the correct words, "You look good."

"As you do, my sweet." Hyunjin's hand took yours and brought it up to his lips, "God, I wish I could paint you right here."

"Hyunjin," you gave him a playful look, unsure of whether or not it was hiding your fright, what if someone saw?

Hyunjin's arms went to your waist, pulling you closer to him, which felt like syrup wafting through the air, sweet with a touch of familiarity. He leaned in, you felt his hot breath on your neck as he whispered, "None of your family or their spies are here don't worry."

You took in a shaky breath, as you felt his long, dainty fingers reaching up your thigh, fiddling with something strapped tightly to it. Hyunjin smiled into your neck, as he continued to fiddle with the leather.

"That's how they plan to kill me?" He chuckled, "With a dagger strapped to the ravishing thigh of the love of my life?"

"That's just Plan B." You whispered, shoving his hand off gently, as your eye caught a waiter in the corner glancing at you and Hyunjin, "Just in case the hemlock doesn't work."

"Willing to test that theory?" Hyunjin stepped away from you, leaving your body colder than you wished. His cocky smile, his raised brow and relaxed demeanour, he was like a like a cat lounging in a garden, at peace with watching the world pass on.

"In front of everyone?" You questioned, "don't tell me the only son of the Hwangs is becoming soft for someone like me."

Hyunjin's mouth stretched lazily as he grinned at you, extending a hand for you to take.

"Let's go somewhere private?" He asked, not giving you time to answer as he basically dragged you across the hall, where magnificent stairs led to the upper floors of the luxurious mansion. Gossiping eyes followed your movements, well, more precisely, Hyunjin's movements, as he led you up the stairs, making sure not to step on your tartine dress, as you carried the fabric behind you with regal grace.

"Now," Hyunjin smirked as you climbed onto the last step, now well hidden from the party downstairs, "Shall we?" And he broke into a run, dragging you behind him, giggling maniacally like a child in the summer. You were sure you heard your dress rip, but you had not a care as you ran with Hyunjin down the corridor, to the last door, his bedroom. The walls of the corridors were lined with paintings, Hyunjin's evidently, fading edges of canvases standing out against the ruby of the wall paint and the carpeted floor. You recognised each and every painting. A painting of a woman amongst daffodils, another of the same woman in an abandoned mansion which Hyunjin had always told you would be that women's one day. The day he married that woman to be specific.

'The woman in my dreams', Hyunjin told his family when they asked him who she was. 'The woman in my dreams', Hyunjin told his patrons when they asked who she was. 'You', Hyunjin told you when you asked, though you knew, but you still questioned him, in between chaste kisses on the neck and giggles. Hyunjin came to a halt in front of the oak carved door, a tiny metal label on top spelling his name in cursive letters.

"How about we put that dagger to use then?" Hyunjin pressed your back against the door in no time, devouring your being as he tasted the honey of your elysian lips. His hands went again, to your thigh, fumbling to take the dagger out, but you were quicker in your actions. Your hand had been resting on the door's handle, and as you tugged on it, both of you fell back into the room, lips never wanting to leave each other's company.

"Jinnie," you made a sound of pleasure as you pulled away from him, suddenly aware of the audible music coming from downstairs, "Maybe not now."

"Come now love," Hyunjin laughed, striding into the room, where painting supplies lay cluttered next to a pristinely made bed, "Don't say that after we escaped from the prying eyes of everyone downstairs."

"Hyunjin," you looked at him with reprimanding eyes, how could you tell him the actual reason? "Don't you think it'd be suspicious to my family if I return today with messed up hair and a torn silken dress after merely slipping poison into someone's champagne?" How could you tell him to make you stop falling more for him? "This shit is expensive you know."

"Would it not be more dangerous if you were to return without killing the Hwang family's brightest hope?" Hyunjin's voice, though low, spoke it's volume, as he removed his coat, throwing it onto an empty chair.

Locked in a gaze that spoke volumes, you inched toward Hyunjin, a silent plea lingering in the air. As your fingers tightened around his hair, a palpable tension filled the space between you.

His ethereal eyes held yours, revealing a tumult of unspoken struggles and desires. Your gaze shifted to his lips—slightly chapped yet irresistibly inviting. 

Without even a moment of hesitation, you kissed him.

Hyunjin's initial surprise melted into a shared passion, and for a moment, the world around you faded. His arms encircled you, pulling you close as if trying to etch the moment into his memory. As the intensity deepened, you let go of his soft hair, your hands finding their way to his jaw, pulling him even closer.

He tasted your soft lips and felt your warm skin. He pulled away slightly, breath mingling with yours, lips lingering, an anguished pause in the silent night.

"so pretty..." he mutters, taking in the sight of your body.

Hyunjin's lips attach to your skin, leaving deep marks of love all over which wouldn't go away for days now. You stifled your moan, as his lips sucked on your collarbone, you could feel his erection pressing through his pants to your core, making you accidentally whimper.

Hyunjin's ringed hands made their way up your right thigh, the slit in your dress allowing him to caress the soft skin, the cold metal of the ruby created dagger hitting his skin like soft cotton to a wound.

He couldn't explain how attractive it was to him, the carved golden hilt, the blood red jewel in the centre, and the carefully shaped blade of the dagger, decorating his most favourite muse. You were a painting come to life for him.

You were his painting, his magnum opus, a canvas as precious as an angel's wing.

Your mind, on the other hand, was racing at a hundred miles per the hour. How could you tell him? How could you tell him the truth he'd always known? That your love was one the stars crossed each other to find?

You draw him into another uncertain kiss, this one your confused mind didn't think much about, and trailed a hand up the smooth skin of his exposed chest. Hyunjin signs into your mouth and runs both his hands down your sides, pausing to squeeze your thigh, and the cold blade pressed against your skin again.

“My love, that was by far one of the most sexy things I’ve ever seen.” Voice low and seductive, your lips barely pulling away from him. "I really can't believe you chose this one out of all. You know it's my gift don't you?"

"Hyunjin..." You trailed off, impatiently pulling away from his lips, "we shouldn't, we really shouldn't."

"Why not love?" Hyunjin's lips pressed against yours again morphing into a gentler kiss, he was evidently trying to calm you down.

"Hyunjin please don't." You begged with him, as if you were begging for your mind to stop itself before you went too far. You had to stop falling for him before it was too late. And yet how could you?

"Princess-" Hyunjin began before looking at you with worried eyes, "You're scaring me what's wrong? You can talk to me."

"What's wrong is we shouldn't be doing this." You tried to feign disgust, but all that came out was pathetic love for Hyunjin, 'Don't let me fall in love again' was what you had meant to say.

"Princess—"

"No!" You all as but screamed, forgetting that you were currently above a party filled with guns and roses, Hyunjin stood shocked in front of you at your sudden outburst, the air around you stilled, as words came out like vomit.

"listen, I am to get married to the Park family's eldest son, and if anyone, anyone, finds out about this," you stopped and took in a breath, "we're dead, Hyunjin, both of us! Or worse shit I can't even fathom to think about!" You took a breath at every word, stressing each note like a violin's vibrato, "And I'd really fucking take this poison myself rather than living in a world where everything tries to stop us from being together. So, please Hyunjin," your eyes held whispers of pained love, "Don't let me fall into this depth of love, because I just know I can never climb out."

The silence that overtook the room was heavy, heavier than you would have liked. You could have endured bullet heads, burn marks, fractures, but this was the greatest wound of all. The greatest pain you'd endured was the one you had always been deprived of.

Love, had it always been such a sin?

Your head felt dizzy as you say down on the bed, letting the soft material of the cover sink in. The dagger round your thigh and the air round your being felt tighter. You felt as if you could have drawn oceans of blood at that moment.

"Love," his voice echoed through your entire being, "look at me.

Your head turned to look up at him, as his hands quickly straddled you onto his lap, one of them squeezing your right thigh, eliciting a quiet moan out of you.

You saw it in his eyes. Felt it in his touch. The ethereal, devilish angel, Hwang Hyunjin had been loafing around on this earth long enough to know how to claim what was his. When his hips knocked yours to lay you flat on the bed, you already knew what was coming next.

"Hyunjin I-"

"I don't care what or who comes in our way. You, my dearest, are mine, and mine alone." Hyunjin growled into your ear, his anger would never seep through to you but on certain occasions it would certainly scare you, the way his anger was cold as an icicle, rather than fiery like a volcano.

A groan rumbles through Hyunjin's chest, and he dips down to give a playful bite to your bottom lip, earning a squeak you will deny if asked about later.

One of his hands moves down to delicately play with your breast, kneading softly before pinching your nipple between his finger and thumb. You break the kiss with a breathless gasp, tugging at Hyunjin’s roots, forcing a ragged groan from him. Hyunjin wastes no time to pepper kisses down the column of your neck. He pushed the hair out of his eyes before he grabbed you by the waist and rubbed his cock up against you. He could feel heat settle in his body as his cock throbbed for you. He wanted you, he needed you more than he needed air. And he was more than willing to let you know that.

Stripping off your clothes and throwing it to the side, Hyunjin climbed up the bed and grabbed your hand on the way, hauling you under him. He wasted no time in lining himself up with you, throwing his head back in a groan as your pussy enveloped him.

Hyunjin groaned through grit teeth as he pushed his cock into you. You tensed and he groaned louder, he held onto the bed under you and moved all the way inside of you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and held him tightly as he started to thrust. You moaned into his skin as he moved against you.

His mouth went to your neck, leaving dark scars there. His teeth hit the ruby of your necklace, as he took it in his mouth and tugged at it, making you gasp loudly.

Your body felt numb but in a pleasurable way. You could only lie there and accept all the pleasure that he was giving you. He kissed your soft face, he could feel your racing heartbeat under your skin. His face went back to your neck where he left more bruises on the flesh. He felt heat through his body as the pleasure coursed through his veins. It was arousing, he couldn’t deny what he was feeling.

"You're mine." Hyunjin growled through a symphony of soft sighs, "I will never let anything get in between us, alright?"

The only response he got was a pleasured moan escaping from your lips, but he took it. He took pride in the way he could make you feel like this.

Your head fills with pleasures, not a single thought could form in your head. “Fuck you feel so good doll” he groans holding your hips down and slamming deeper inside you. “G-god Hyunjin! Feels…s-so good!” You cry.

Your eyes begin to roll back feeling how good he felt. His tip hitting your G-spot making you ready to cum just as fast as before. “H-Hyune fuck I’m gonna c-“ you are interrupted by his hand gripping your throat, choking you.

“Fuck baby you got wetter just from that… god you're so good” his mixture of degradation and praise had your body a dripping, desperate mess. You couldn’t believe the hold he had over you.

His breathing is labored when he pulls his hips back and thrusts in, he goes slow at first, treating you like you were a fragile statue made from porcelain, but then you’re begging him to go faster, to go harder. His tongue swipes along the roof of his mouth before he speaks, “are you sure, doll? i don’t— fuck— want to hurt you.”

“h-hurt me, it’s okay,” you mumble out, and he truly does hesitate for a second, then his thrusts are suddenly faster, bumping you into the bed with the sheer snap of his hips. Your cries sound like noises formed from a blessed harp, passed down by the gods for him to listen to, each moan getting louder and louder until his ears are ringing, until the music sounds hushed compared to your screams.

He felt you trembling hard, pulsing around his cock as you got close to cumming. He works himself deeper inside you, stroking all the places you need to reach that high point. A few more thrusts and you burst. You gush around him with a long whine.

You squirm and buck as he holds you in place and keeps rutting into you until it becomes too much for him. He also lets loose and shoots his cum inside you. He fucks it into you a bit, before slowly pulling out.

Slightly panting and out of breath, Hyunjin's figure could be seen gracefully outlined by the moon's tears penetrating through the tall, stained windows. He gets up and fetches a towel, gently cleaning you up as your eyes flickered between sleep and consciousness.

"Are you alright, love?" He questioned you, his fingers tracing shapes on your hips as he layed down beside you again, clearly not in the mood for wearing his clothes. Neither were you, so you turned your body towards him, allowing him to wrap you into the cocoon of his warm muscles. Laying your head on his chest, you felt his hand, once again, reaching for your thigh.

"You really do like that dagger don't you?" You laughed, as he caressed the metal.

"You should wear it more often, maybe for a painting?" Hyunjin's suggested, a smile like the air after rain, fresh with the stench of earth and dew, imprinted on his face.

"Hyunjin I-", you began, taking a breath before continuing, "What about—about my family?"

You swore you could have heard Hyunjin gently scoff, but you ignored it as he brought you closer to him, the space in between you practically empty.

"Stay here for tonight." Hyunjin said, "and if they come in search of their 'beloved' daughter," he scoffed once again, muttering a curse underneath his breath, "I'll tell them I stole her away from her tower."

"More like stole her dagger away." You giggled, finding his obsession with the strap on your thigh amusing. Hyunjin merely smiled at that, and silence fell again.

"Y/N?"

"Hm?"

"I love you."

Red wasn't that bad of a colour after all. Not when it reminded you of Hyunjin, not when it reminded you of secret kisses and poisoned paintings, and certainly not when it reminded you of love.

"I love you too, Hyunjin."

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[hamliet]

Less of a question but I was never an avid manga reader till 2019 and mha was the first manga I kept track of weekly, and I read Tokyo ghoul after it ended, and seeing everyone be dissatisfied with how Tokyo ghoul ended after keeping up weekly is something I’m reminded of after seeing the latest chapter of mha. So this is what it feels like to witness 6 years of a character you hold in high regard be undermined(to put it lightly). I’m rather sad, but I can’t help but feel fondness for shigaraki even if the way he ended wasn’t satisfying, how do u feel about how mha has gone?

Yeah it does feel very reminiscent of Tokyo Ghoul in that they just went "ah yes, killing the right people is actually how we solve world issues." Which I find morally reprehensible, but also genuinely bad writing because the story as a whole doesn't support this message.

@linkspooky explained in her meta yesterday why Deku has completely failed as a character, and why the manga has failed thematically as a story. I'm just gonna say I completely agree with Link.

To be fair, I'm not sure Shigaraki is dead dead, but either way, it's bad writing and it doesn't conclude his arc with any sort of satisfactory element. Like, why would Shigaraki see Deku as different than anyone else who tried to punch him? That's nonsensical and written from the POV of an audience, not from Shigaraki's POV. It's like in Star Wars when Rey calls herself "Rey Skywalker" when she knew Luke for 3 days and none of the people she was actually close to (Leia, Han, Ben) were Skywalkers. That's writing for the audience, with their perspective, ignoring the logic of your story. It defies believability because the character does not have that perspective. It's "forced" because the audience can see the hand of the author.

If Shigaraki is dead dead... Not gonna Star Wars this one again, but since I also hated the ending of The Rise of Skywalker, I must make a comparison. The idea that Deku may have saved Shigaraki's heart but couldn't save his body (which to be honest, nothing in the actual chapter supports, but if he stays dead might be the argument) is still bad writing. Why? Because to Shigaraki didn't even make the decision himself. He didn't sacrifice anything. How can his heart be saved if he had nothing to do with it? Saving an object is easy as pie. Saving a person is different, and that's what the whole story has been about. Like, in TROS, Kylo Ren gave his life for Rey! Was it stupid? Yes! But at least his "saved heart" did something. Shigaraki's saved heart did what exactly?

So then, is the message that Deku failed? Then why isn't it framed as a failure? Why was BNHA never set up to be a grimdark tragedy? If he failed, then shouldn't he have a miserable ending? Unless it's "heroes always become bad guys and life is unfair," but then shouldn't Deku be framed critically?

Basically, Horikoshi can't come back writing-wise from this in BNHA, and it's sad to see.

Horikoshi's biggest flaw throughout the entire story was that he kept flip-flopping on what he wanted to say, and made the characters more about his trying to please every single fan than about being, well, characters to explore important questions he has that are worthwhile. And you can do this while still having a "cool" factor!

Instead the characters tell us one thing while cocooning Deku in the sweet bliss that no one ever has on this earth--being 100% right all the time. And it's sad, because BNHA had so much potential as a story to challenge its audience and entertain too.

I thought even if it flopped in some aspects it'd at least get this right. It's disappointing.

Anyways every day that goes by I want to send Isayama and his editors flowers for actually writing a thematically coherent ending, even if some aspects were dropped or messy along the way.

#ask hamliet #bnha #mha

[viixenvi]

𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 | 18+

Summary: You have been planning to steal some information from the Avengers compound. You successfully break in but what happens when the one person you never wanted to see again ends up catching you?

Characters: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader, Steve Rogers, Tony Stark

Warnings: Torture, fighting, reader gets caught and tied up, heavy make-outs, slight flirting, some oral (Nat receiving), reader leaves Nat high and dry, villain fem!reader (Reader and Nat hate fuck whenever they catch each other guys)

This was not my best work, actually kinda bad and not proofread so forgive mistakes and like forgive me if it's bad I just had this idea weeks ago and decided to actually write it at 3 AM

Minors DNI

It was only a matter of time before you could escape. Sneaking into the Avengers compound was hard, it took weeks of planning and landing a job as a maid.

Stark was always hiring and it was just perfect when you got a call back that you had been selected for the job. Of course, this job came with risks to your plan. If you were suspected at all by any of the avengers you'd be finished. Which is exactly why you had a disguise.

Shape shifting was your specialty. It had just happened oneday, you woke up with powers of some sorts. You had no idea how to control them or how you even got them.

You were hoping this hard drive you were planning to take had the answers to some of your problems. You could only change your appearance, make others see you differently.

The only person you had to avoid at all costs was Natasha. She knew things about you that you hadn't told anyone else. You and her had a long history, one that you prefer not to think about. You had fought her previously, working with Loki. That went down hill fast and you managed to stay low since then.

Now you were definitely going to set off their radars. You have a plan though, you always have a plan.

"Can you get the lab too while you are at it?" Tony asks me as I mop the floor. I look up and nod, giving him a shy smile. He walks away, his phone in his hand.

Perfect excuse to be in his lab. You walk towards the lab, your heart racing. It was time, finally. You felt relieved, it was finally going to be over and you'd never have to see the avengers ever again.

"You are not authorized to enter this area." The voice startles you slightly. J.A.R.V.I.S was a pain to deal with.

"Mr. Stark asked me to mop the lab," You tell him. You hear nothing or a minute before the card scanner beeps with a green light and the doors click. That was surprisingly..easy?

This was too easy, you hesitate for a moment. You glance around the lab before your eyes land on a hard drive. It's the hard drive. No way Tony would just leave this out conveniently, not when he knew there was a chance it would be stolen by anyone.

But it's right there, and you don't think you have another chance. So you slowly walk up to the table, pretending to mop and swiping the drive off the table.

It swiftly makes the journey to your pocket and you walk out of the lab, leaving the mop on the floor. You have no idea how you can get out without at least being detected.

Stark was far from stupid, but your powers deceived him enough. Now all you had to do was fake an emergency and leave. You pick up the phone, pretending to get a call and panicking.

You find Steve in the living room, cleaning his shield off. "Can you please tell Mr. Stark I have to leave? There's a family emergency!" You spit out before he can really react. You are in the elevator as he says he will.

Something about the way he looked at you was confusing. He didn't even ask if everything was alright like you thought he would. If Steve was one thing, he was compassionate.

You knew they knew about your plans, or at least that you were there to steal the drive. As if on cue, the elevator doors open and Natasha is staring right at your face.

"Hello милый," her voice is sweet, just like how it used to be. You stand there for a moment, drinking in her features. You had spent the past weeks avoiding her and you never got the chance to really see her.

"Natasha, any chance you can let me go?" You say, one hand on the back of your neck as you laugh awkwardly. She tilts her head and raises an eyebrow. So it's a no.

Her fist raises to your face and you block it, swiping your leg under hers. She falls back and manages to flip onto her feet. You land a punch to her face, which angers her.

She kicks your stomach, causing you to stumble back. Before you can even think, she punches your face. You can feel the blood gushing out of your nose. You wipe it away with your hand while Natasha stands in front of you. She's focused on your face and movements.

You could tell she was analyzing you. You both hadn't fought each other in a while and it was obvious you were holding back. You couldn't get yourself to hurt her.

Natasha runs past you, jumping up off the wall and wrapping her legs around your neck. You pin her arms back and lean down, flipping her over in front of you. She breaks free from your grasp and jumps, spinning and kicking you directly in the face.

You fall over and close your eyes, consciousness barely hanging on. Natasha is a damn good fighter and you could admit it. Natasha hovers over you, pulling the drive out of your pocket.

"Some things don't change," She says just before you black out.

When you finally wake up, pain surges through your body. The familiar metallic taste of blood in your mouth reminds you of what happened.

You move to pull your hands free but it seems they cuffed you with some heavy metal cuffs. They definitely seem to be stopping your powers from being used. You are in a bedroom, which seems to be weird for the team as they have their own interrogation room and cells.

A figure comes into view and you know it's Natasha. "It's funny, you always end up in front of me bound by something," She chuckles. I sigh and close my eyes, the headache pounding in my head is not helping the pain.

"If you are going to kill me, just do it."

Natasha pulls her knife out, pushing the tip under my chin and lifting my head. "Aw, you wound me, baby."

"Don't call me that," You spit, clenching your jaw. You and Natasha always had a love-hate relationship. You were a villain and her job was to kill them.

"Tell me why you need the drive and maybe we can have a little fun," She whispers in your ear. You decide to play along, long enough for her to get you out of these cuffs.

"If I tell you, will you take these cuffs off?" You ask, giving her a defeated look.

"Yes."

"They paid me to take it, said there are plans on it they need. I didn't get any other information. I just know that they can kill me easily." Natasha sits on the chair across from you, spinning her knife in her hand.

"Who?"

"I have no idea. Some alien guy, he's weird looking," You tell her. You try to steady your heartbeat and avoid actions that will tell her you are lying.

Natasha seems to like this answer because she gets up and walks behind you. A moment later, the cuffs are no longer clasped on your hands.

You feel Natasha's hands on your shoulders, gliding down your arms. You almost shiver at her touch. You don't want to play into this, but she has given you no choice.

There's a smile on her face when you spin around, your hands on her waist. Your lips meet hers and the kiss is almost electric. Her lips are soft and you taste the cherry lipgloss.

She pushes you onto the bed but you flip over and get on top of her, unzipping her suit. Her belt is thrown onto the floor, not before you take something out of it.

"Fuck, I need you so bad," You whisper against the skin of her neck. You kiss down it, your warm lips sending shivers down her spine.

Her hands roam your body, pulling up your shirt. You stop her before she can fully take it off. "No, let me take care of your first, baby."

She pulls you into a kiss before you descend down her body, leaving trails of kisses. You pull the rest of the suit down to her ankles, kissing up her thigh.

You reach her lips, kissing them before spreading her legs and pushing your face close. Your tongue glides over her clit, circling it. Natasha moans, lifting her hips up and throwing her head back.

You wanted so badly to finish what you started, but you needed the drive and Natasha wasn't going to distract you again.

So you pull away, crawling on top of her and grabbing her face to kiss her. You carefully place a tazer disk on her nack and get off her before activating it.

Natasha gasps and falls unconscious from the tazer and you cover her up with a blanket. This was payback for the last time she caught you. This was your thing, always leaving the other wanting more. It kept up the attraction.

This time you may have gone too far, but your life depended on getting this drive and you didn't care what you did to get it.

You won this time.

#natasha romanoff #steve rogers #tony stark #natasha x reader #angst #x reader #viixenvi #natasha romanoff smut #natasha x you #black widow x reader #smut #kinda angsty #nat and reader have a complicated past #some smut

[akazzzaa]

Unrequited love - The deception of desire

Log 0- Kibitsuji Muzan

This is a series of one shots I plan on writing, the link to the master list is here. Please let me know if there is a character you would like me to write and I will add it to my list!

Summary- Muzan Kibutsuji isnt a very lovely husband.

Genre- ANGST- These will all have angst in them.

Warnings- Manipulation/ dark themes/ mentions of physical abuse/ slight gore

The entertainment district. Busy streets, colourful lanterns, plenty of people, plenty of food. As he strolled through the vibrant city, Muzan's crimson eyes flickered with curiosity, observing the humans as they reviled in their pleasures. The scent of sake and the sound of laughter filled the air, but beneath it all, he could smell the fear and desperation. Despite the vibrant atmosphere around him, he remained detached.

As he moved through the crowds, his sharp senses heightened. He couldn't help but notice the fragile humans around him. Their fleeting lives seemed insignificant in comparison to his immortal existence. He relished in the fear that emanated from them.

As Muzan continued his stroll, his attention was unexpectedly drawn to a vibrant flower stand nestled in the crowds. Intrigued, he approached, his curiosity piqued by the array of blooms from all corners of the world, their intoxicating scents mingling with the scent of the humans around.

At the stand, he found himself face to face with a young woman whose beauty was as captivating as the flowers she tended. Her eyes sparkled with warmth and innocence, a stark contrast to him. Yet, beneath her cheerful demeanour, he sensed a hint of something else.

"Welcome, sir," she greeted him with a sweet smile "Is there something specific you're looking for today?"

He could sense the faint pulse of fear that quickened her heartbeat in his presence. It was a reaction he had grown accustomed to.

"Surprisingly, I find myself drawn to your flowers," he replied, his voice smooth and velvety. "I was not aware such beauty existed in this world."

The woman's smile widened, and she gestured toward the colourful blooms that surrounded them. "Each of these flowers has its own story, its own unique beauty," she explained. "They come from all around the world." Muzan's gaze lingered on the delicate petal. For a fleeting moment, he felt a sense of wonder and appreciation for the beauty that surrounded him. But the moment passed quickly. With a faint smirk, he reached out to pluck a single flower from its stem, his fingers brushing against the soft petals with a touch as gentle as a whisper

"Perhaps I shall take this as a reminder of the fleeting beauty of this world," he mused, "Thank you, my dear."

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

Several nights passed, and Muzan found himself inexplicably drawn back to the flower stand in the entertainment district. You had every flower there, except the one he needed.

"Welcome back," she greeted him warmly, her smile lighting up her face. "It's good to see you again."

Muzan inclined his head in acknowledgment, a rare gesture from someone so accustomed to command. "I could not resist the lure of your flowers," he admitted. The woman laughed softly, "I'm glad to hear that," she replied. "Is there something in particular you're looking for today?"

Muzan hesitated for a moment, "I... I wished to see you again," The woman's smile widened, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Well, here I am," she said, a hint of mischief in her voice. "What can I do for you?"

Muzan took a step closer, his gaze fixed on her with an intensity that made her heart flutter. "I find myself... intrigued by you," he confessed, his voice low and husky. "I wish to know more about the woman behind the flowers."

The woman's laughter faded, replaced by a look of curiosity and uncertainty. "I'm just a simple florist," she said softly. "There's not much to know."

But Muzan needed to get close. He reached out to gently brush a stray lock of hair from her face, his touch as tender.

"You are anything but simple," he murmured, his voice filled with a fake warmth. "And I would very much like to get to know you better."

For a moment, the woman seemed to hesitate, her gaze flickering between Muzan's intense stare and the darkness that surrounded them. But then, with a smile that lit up the night, she nodded her head in agreement.

"I would like that," she said softly. "I would like that very much."

-------

"Tell me, woman," Muzan snapped impatiently, his voice dripping with disdain. "Have you heard of the blue spider lily?" His hand, tangled inti her hair, pulling her up to meet his sharp gaze, red eyes burning into hers.

The woman's brow furrowed in confusion "I-I'm sorry, sir," she stammered, her voice trembling. "I'm not familiar with that flower."

Muzan's eyes narrowed dangerously as he pulled her hair tighter, his towering figure casting a shadow over the woman. "You ignorant fool!" he spat, his voice laced with venom. "How dare you not know of such a crucial flower? Its your fucking job to know these things! You are nothing but a useless, pathetic human!"

The woman recoiled at his words, her teary eyes wide with fear as she struggled to comprehend the sudden change in Muzan's demeanour. She had never seen him like this before—so full of rage.

"I-I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice barely above a whimper. "I didn't mean to—"

But before she could finish her sentence, Muzan lashed out with a cruel laugh, he let go of her hair and kicked her to the ground, breaking bones and rapturing organs, causing her to bleed out. "Pathetic," he sneered. "You are nothing but a worthless insect, unworthy of my attention."

With that, Muzan turned on his heel and stormed away, leaving the woman trembling in his wake. As she watched him disappear into the night.

#demon slayer #kny #kny x reader #muzan kibutsuji #muzan x reader #i actually hate this but i have no idea what else to write

[shootingsun]

AU where everything stays the same but Near comes to Wammy's House as a baby (like, 8/9 months old) and Roger hates kids so he decides the best thing to do is hand the baby off to A and B because "they're geniuses they'll know what to do with it"

Shenanigans ensue

#Roger basically makes them babysit Near for extra credit #A thought theyd have to write an essay or solve a murder or something and is instead handed a baby #B is both a great babysitter and a terrible babysitter at the same time #'B make it stop crying!!' 'dont call the baby an it thats rude' 'WHAT ELSE AM I SUPPOSED TO CALL IT??' 'uh... idk' #later on in life one of the only ways to comfort Near after a nightmare is listening to the Akazukin Chacha theme song #and Near has no idea why #(its because Beyond used to put on Azakuzin Chacha whenever baby Near cried and it somehow worked to soothe them) #death note #death note au #a death note #death note a #beyond birthday #b death note #death note b #near death note #death note near #nate river #wammys house #roger hates children #thats actually canon

[atissi]

this is a joke. i hated business school.

(conversation with @thesweetestclementine)

#CONTEXT: we were talking about the james somerton bullshit #anytime someone at a party asks me what i majored in i say 'marketing and finance but i hated it the entire time i promise im normal' #can confirm though that 80% of business majors suck ass at writing let alone coming up with original ideas #in first year we had a mandatory business writing class because it had gotten so bad among previous cohorts #and everyone i talked to hated it because we had to read actual books and the professors were lit. phds with actual standards #'they mark way too hard i got 60% on everything' have you considered that this is a. skill issue. #also 60% is just. expected for certain humanities courses lolll at least in business our grades get curved #so you're only hurting your GPA if you write worse than everyone else lol. but good luck with that #anyways that's just a fraction of why my classes were terrible. but the writing thing annoyed me the most when I was doing group essays. #beepbeep.txt

[bookshelf-in-progress]

Daughter of the House of Dreams: A Fragment

Author's Note: This is the opening to a long-abandoned "Sleeping Beauty" retelling that I no longer plan to write, but I still like it as a piece of prose, and it sparked my enduring interest in second-person narration, so it feels relevant, and why should long-dead authors be the only ones who get to have their unfinished fragments published?

If you ever travel to Monetta City, be sure to visit Faraway Lane. Walk past the glittering new shops, and the shoppers in their bright silk dresses and top hats, and you'll find a cozy stone shop at the end of the street. This shop isn't grand and mighty like the other shops. It won't sniff and turn you away if your clothes aren't the latest fashion. It's a grandmotherly old shop that shakes its head at the prancing and preening of the younger shops, and invites you in instead. It holds no wares in its windows; it hardly has windows at all. But it has a warm and wide wooden door, with a shingle hanging above—Alessia Day, maker of dreams.

Don't ponder the sign's message too long—it means exactly what it says. Just slip inside, shut the door behind you, and look. Don't breathe too deeply, unless you want a week of crazy dreams, but allow yourself one gasp of astonishment. You won't be able to stop yourself. No living person has failed to feel awe toward the rows and rows of shelves, longer than streets and taller than palaces, filled to bursting with glass bottles in such bright colors that the dresses in the other shops' windows would weep in envy. Some bottles are the size of thumbnails. Most fit comfortably in the palm. Some are as large as breadboxes or steamer trunks or carriage horses, but the shelves manage to fit them all. And each bottle is filled to the brim with dreams.

If you don't understand, ask Alessia Day. You'll find her at a counter half a mile from the door, polishing bottles and humming a song you've heard but can't remember. She's an old woman now, and proud of it, but squint your eyes and start to daydream, and you'll see her as I remember her—a willow-wand girl with shining brown hair and eyes that sparkle with half-formed jokes.

Tell this girl how pretty she is (she'll laugh and call you crazy) and ask about her dreams. She'll tell you of her stock and sell you any dream you ask for—daydreams and pipe dreams, dreams of love, dreams of adventure, dreams of loved ones lost and loved ones found and people you've never met but wish you had. She'll show you dreams of lush and perfect islands, dreams where fishes fly through the air, and dreams where people swim the seas with fishes' tails. She'll pull down dreams that last a second but linger a lifetime, dreams that fill a month of stormy nights, dreams that fade on waking and dreams that drown out memories. If you let her, she'll talk of dreams until you drift off, and she'll bottle up your dream while you doze.

But if you're smart (I know you are) you'll step to the counter with a clear glass bottle, empty of everything but air, and ask for her story instead. She'd distill it in a dream for you, and be glad to do it—I once saw her whip it up in half a minute, and I'll bet she's even faster now. Buy the dream, but don't drink it right away. You won't be ready for it. Linger in the shop a while. Hear the story first from Alessia Day's lips, in that voice of hers that's sweeter than singing.

You won't believe half of it, but when you stagger from the shop and wander the empty, starlit streets, you'll ponder over passages until you stumble into bed at sunrise. And when you wake, the world will be different—you'll see tiny footprints on the windowsills, know things about the shadows on the walls, tip your hat to creatures in the corner of your eye, and realize there is another color no one else can see. You'll laugh and call it your imagination, but every second Tuesday, you'll start to wonder if the old woman was right, if the things she told you were true.

If you drink the dream she made, you'll know. I'll understand if you don't—some things are easier not to know. But if you do, and dream through her story, come to my house and ring the bell. My man will let you in—he'll know you by the wonder on your face. He'll bring you to my study, set you in my oldest, softest chair, and get us both settled with a steaming pot of tea. Then, once you've finished babbling, I'll close my eyes and tell you my part in the tale.

#the bookshelf progresses #i had completely forgotten the story that this was supposed to be the prologue to #then over the weekend i found the plot summary again #it was actually pretty cool #it was about this girl whose family served as the most prestigious dream-makers in the nation #because they provide dreams to the famed cursed and sleeping princess #and then she discovers that the princess could have been woken a bunch of times over the century #but her family prevented it because they didn't want to lose their cash cow #and then of course she has to find a way to break the curse #i don't know why i thought having this random dude as narrator was the way to go #(unless the story morphed a lot between initial idea and whatever story i intended to write with this prologue) #he was probably in the prince role #and would marry the princess while remaining friends with alessia #beyond that i have no clue what i was going for #(also i don't think i would do the 'he teams up with this girl and marries someone else' plot if i did it today #because i hate marian halcombe situations where the hero develops a strong dynamic with his adventure partner #only to for some inexplicable reason marry someone pretty and boring) #anyway today's a day where i want to write and don't really have time to #so i'm just posting this instead

[raiiny-bay]

my favorite edits - 2023 edition 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9

#ts4 #simblr #once again i don't know how to tag this so... #i'm just gonna use the same tags i used last year ig #2023 was apparently the year of the monster boyz #only 3 of these are not mb posts & i'm ok with that actually #ik i've said it a million times already but #i had soooo much fun doing mb stuff this year! #i'm really excited about all the stuff i have planned for the AU tbh #like. i have a list #i'm hoping................... to get the origin stories done at some point. #probably gonna do some writing here soon ish. #i've gotta make all of the side characters still & finish the character page so idk. i'll figure it out. i have a lot of ideas #i really wanna start sharing more about the story & the boys' actual personalities so that's probably what i'll focus on this next year #edit-wise i mean. like doing lore edits & stuff. idk #making cricket's was really fun so i think i'll like making stuff for everyone else too #i just have to not try to do a whole story bc then i'll lose interest. it'll be like the degenerates all over again lmao #idk why i just hate making story posts #lore posts are fine but story posts? mm no. not for me. idk how but they are different in my brain ok #n e way #i rambled. sorry. bye lol

[petiolata]

Blegh, I hate writing things that I feel are just mediocre. Like they're not bad, not terrible, no one is going to cringe in disgust at them or anything.

But you know they're not going to be anyone's favorite. They lack a distinct flavor, a certain charm. They're not OOC, but they don't have that thrill that a really good characterization has, where you feel the characters personality strongly and their voice is just so completely them you can hear it.

It's not like it happens a whole lot; most of my fics and stories don't fall prey to this blandness. I think, once I have this fic edited, I'll go through it and look for places to strengthen character voice.

#writeblr #writer problems #writer struggles #fanfiction #any two guys #is kind of the specific term for it #I hate it when I make these fics #they're actually worse than badfics--when you make a badfic at least you tried to do something very flavorful #and fucked it up bad #I don't classify ATG fic as bad/ badfic because it's too successful on a technical level to be called bad #and also they don't actually fail at characterization they're not wildly OOC or contradicting canon #they're just...bland. and lacking that spark. #It's weird bc I've written both of these characters ages ago and was fine so I know I can capture a voice for them #I think I'm just afraid of leaning heavily into the characterization I favor bc of ppl possibly perceiving it as OOC #(it's not--but u know how ppl are. they get their idea of Blorbo and expect everyone else to follow it.) #I'm sure I'll be able to shake off the nerves and focus on character voice once im done with the first edit round. #afterall I don't usually care about whether my characters are seen as “OOC”. The important thing is *me* having fun and liking what I wrote #so I'll go through it on the 2nd pass with the aim of pleasing my number 1 fan--myself 😋 #op #personal #writing

[13eyond13]

one of the lesser talked about fun things about intentionally reading more books is finding new stuff to be a bit of a hater about tbh

#and i know sometimes im probably just not properly picking up whatever the writer is putting down but whatever it's still fun #to actually know what you think about stuff like the highly regarded classics and extremely popular hyped up things #here are a few writers im a bit of a hater about w my opinions now btw #neil gaiman: does not do it for me at alllll #have read the graveyard book and american gods and hated almost every minute of both #in american gods i just found the aesthetic ideas and characters completely unappealing and in the graveyard book #i thought it was dreary and not well described enough... kept feeling like it was too bare bones in some way to picture things properly #i was like 'hmm i wish this was one of his graphic novels instead bc i'd like to be able to see what's going on here a bit better...' #also his humour just never lands for me and i do not often get his references either #ray bradbury annoys me in a similar way to neil gaiman but also somewhat oppositely like where #the way they write characters and plots and ideas and the stuff they care about gets on my nerves in an almost identical way #that i don't know how to define except to say i had a bit of a 'same energy' experience reading Something Wicked This Way Comes #and some of neil gaiman's stuff #but unlike neil gaiman i think that ray bradbury attempts to describe things unusually so much and TOO much #to the point that it takes me out of the story in a different yet similar way #to how the lack of description in neil gaiman's stuff does #what else have i become a bit of a hater about or did not get the appeal of lately? hmmm #oh hp lovecraft hahahaha #least scary stories ever god everything he's scared of is so dumb #like even aside from his extremely racist takes and fear of the 'exotic other' his fears about being cosmically insignificant are just like #yeah and? whats so scary about that hahaha i literally just dont get it #also the amount he writes dialogue in heavy accents annoys the shit out of me #p

[gregoftom]

where do i even start

#tomgreg #stay tuned for a special thing at the end #FIRST OFF CAN I JUST SAY. thinking about my own various skills and abilities tom says as he MOVES CROTCH FIRST TOWARDS GREG. #and he's just told greg his skills. he's got a big dick and fucks fast and hard. so like. there's that. #i'm either to assume he's already showed said skills off to greg and referring to it or he's literally being suggestive #either unconsciously or consciously. #also he wiggles his crotch a little. like. we get it you wanna fuck greg so bad it makes you look stupid. #ok so we've got the tom not tiptoeing around this like he did with shiv and straight up saying i'm not fucking happy #with you going off with somebody else. i don't like it. why are you happy and i'm not that's not fair. #you're mine. i'm not jealous tho haha #we've got them going through what looks like a wedding arch. #we've got them full on acting like a married couple with greg making excuses for tom and holding him back a little. acting like his wife. #we've got tom switching chiding greg for saying something and the ''don't say that!!'' and then greg agreeing #and saying that actually no tom is a lovely man. oh don't mind my husband he's just grouchy! #and then the WAY tom says you've ruined it like he's about to throw up or cry. or both. #and then greg being like ?? how i have ruined it?? and tom ''idk you just HAVE'' all petulant like #and you know what i'm gonna say. a schoolboy. #he's like thanks i hate it #it really is so much this episode. so much. #i have an idea from it of what fic i could write so there's something at least. a

[musical-chick-13]

"This show is SO good, you should watch it!!"

I gotta be honest. If I look at a character list on Wikipedia and get five characters down without seeing a single woman, it's probably not for me.

#I have no patience for 'there is exactly one woman in the main/supporting cast' anymore #unless the writing is INCREDIBLE and the themes are explored with a type of depth and nuance I can't get anywhere else (like shiki) #(daily media plug for shiki) #then I just. probably will not vibe with it. if there are no women. (also shiki DOES have interesting female characters in it) #and this isn't to say that like. things involving men or talking about men or that have a male protagonist are Not Worth #My Time that is NOT what I'm saying at all. I just want like. several women. who show up and affect the story. like LITERALLY that is all I #am asking for. I feel like that's just. the bare minimum. but alas. #mel screams about fictional ladies again #there are plenty of things that are male-character-focused that I enjoy and even genuinely think are good! but I do want people to #ask themselves why they aren't willing to go to bat for media that DOES have more women in the cast than men. #(I mean. the answer is misogyny. but I want people to be. aware of that. and evaluate accordingly) #(evaluate meaning 'acknowledge I have some biases I need to continue deconstructing' not 'drop interest in everything tumblr #user musical-chick-13 personally doesn't like') #I feel like so many times we get trapped in this space between overcorrection via 'don't like ANYTHING that's pRoBLeMaTiC in ANY way' #and people taking the 'it's fiction it's not that deep' to the conclusion of 'because I cannot actually hurt fictional characters because #they're not real that means I am incapable of hurting irl people when they talk about those characters' #like there is. nuance here. there is a middle ground. and most people have NO interest in finding it lmao #and like...if you carry your biases from irl (which EVERYONE HAS. INCLUDING ME. COURTESY OF LIVING IN A PREJUDICED SOCIETY.) into a #direct and one-to-one evaluation of stories or characters that allow you to exercise those biased ideas. then that reinforces those biases #like. no hating...for example every anime lady isn't the same as structural misogyny like the pay gap or anti-women violence #but if you automatically associate the idea of 'female character' with 'lesser-than' it strengthens the already-present societal idea that #women are not as important or dynamic or worthy of support and attention as their male peers. if you are willing to see every (white) #fictional man as having interiority and depth but struggle to see that in any fictional woman then it adds to the things society is already #telling us about women. it creates an association of 'women' with 'inferiority' and uh. that's what misogyny is. #it is not the same as misogynistic crimes against irl women but it IS a reflection of the rhetoric and societal impulses that lead to them #and even if it's a reflection and not the actual thing. it's still important to break down and examine and reevaluate because #if we don't examine our OWN biases. then even if we tear down the greater oppressive structure we'll just end up building it back up again #no your thousands of words of m/m fanfiction or liking late 2000s shonen anime isn't responsible for misogyny nor are these things #inherently misogynistic. I just want like. some acknowledgement that something being 'for fun' doesn't automatically mean that bias/ #prejudice is nowhere to be found

[vivi-selfships]

Me knowing the only way to improve is practice

VERSUS

Me wanting to give up because I'm afraid that my writing sucks and nobody will like it

#me: i dont care if everyone else hates it because its for me!! #<- cares so much. desperately wants people to like it. #i actually have no idea what im doing btw 👍🏻 #writing #fic writing #writer problems #writer memes #fic writer meme #x reader fanfiction #amateur writer #writing anxiety #vi creates

[scorpiusmalfoylovesoscarwilde]

please someone teach me how to describe someone laughing without just saying "he laughed" every couple sentences, this is painful oh my god

#im terrible with like description tags #i overuse he laughed and softly/gently so bad #i just wanna get my point across plz #but its so awful to read back lmfao #but i dont know what else to SAY #im a strong believer in just using said a lot of the time #but how tf else am i meant to describe this plz #and i cannot stand the words giggle and chuckle either plz #no ones allowed to laugh in my writing bye #or speak gently #because i cannot stop using the word gently #i hate writing oh my god #writing #never writing again i quit bye #writing a bunch of novels sounds so appealing until i actually have to write #i have ideas galore i spend ages planning #and then fall on my face when one of my characters laughs ffs

[windfighter]

Breathe for me

Prompt: Painkillers

------

Takuya looked into the fridge, held the phone between his shoulder and cheek as he looked around for something easy for Kouji to eat. He could hear Kouichi look for breakfast on the other side as well.

”Kouji’s having a bad week”, Takuya said.

He wasn’t sure how much Kouji wanted him to say, but he couldn’t tell the others they didn’t want to meet them. He needed to explain why they couldn't. Kouichi hmmed.

”How bad?” he asked.

Takuya was pretty sure Kouichi had never seen Kouji during a bad episode. When the pain got so bad he couldn’t get out of bed. When he needed the strong painkillers that made him so out of it he could barely remember his name. Takuya grabbed a can of miso-soup from the back of the fridge.

”He’s still asleep, if that tells you anything”, he said.

Kouichi pulled a sharp breath on the other side of the line. Takuya shared the sentiment.

”At nine?” Kouichi asked. ”Yikes, that’s bad.”

”Told you”, Takuya put the can on the counter and closed the fridge. ”Panther’s been sleeping on top of him the whole night.”

Panther mraowed in the bedroom. Takuya frowned. Panther never made a sound.

”So I guess we’re cancelling lunch today?” Kouichi asked.

”Yeah”, Takuya started walking towards the bedroom. ”Unless you wanna come over.”

”MRAOW!”

Panther’s voice cut through the whole house. Takuya walked faster.

”Was that Panther?” Kouichi asked. ”Cat’s got some lungs.”

”He usually doesn’t”, Takuya said.

He put a hand against the door, swung it open. Kouji was still in the bed, pale as death, and Panther was standing on his chest. Yellow eyes locked onto Takuya.

”Maybe he’s hungry”, Kouichi suggested.

Takuya swallowed. His heart skipped a beat as he walked up to the bed. He put a hand on Kouji’s shoulder, shook it.

”Kouji?”

Kouji didn’t move. His chest was still. Takuya’s hand trembled as he pressed his fingers against Kouji’s throat. He could feel a pulse. Weak, but there. He held his hand over Kouji’s mouth. Nothing. Takuya’s heart skipped another beat.

”Kouichi?” he asked.

His voice trembled. He removed the pillow from under Kouji’s head, put a hand under Kouji’s neck to open his airways. Kouji’s chest still wasn’t moving.

”I need you to call an ambulance. Kouji’s not breathing.”

Kouichi let out a string of cursewords. Takuya agreed.

”I’ll meet you at the hospital”, Kouichi said.

The phonecall ended. Takuya dropped the phone to the floor, tilted Kouji’s head further back. His lungs still didn’t pull air in. Takuya leaned down, pinched Kouji’s nose shut and breathed air into his mouth. Again. Again. Again. Panther’s yellow eyes were watching him, Panther walked back and forth on the bed. Takuya worked for a couple minutes to keep Kouji alive, keep him getting oxygen into his system. Then, a shaky breath. Kouji took a weak breath, released it just as quickly. He took another. Takuya let go, stood up again. Kouji’s eyes opened.

”Stay still”, Takuya said. ”Ambulance is on the way.”

Kouji didn’t protest, just closed his eyes again. Panther laid down next to him, purred loudly. Takuya stood next to the bed, watched them. Watched Kouji’s chest rising and falling in quick successions. Then it stopped again. Takuya’s shoulders fell. He swallowed, leaned down and restarted the process. His stomach ached. He knew they were living on borrowed time, that Kouji should have been dead several times over, but it couldn’t end like this. At home, with Takuya right next to him. When they were supposed to have a nice lunch together with Kouichi.

Tears gathered in Takuya’s eyes. Breathing got harder. He took a deep breath to calm down, couldn’t let Kouji down. He filled Kouji’s lungs again. Kouji had survived worse, he could survive whatever was going on.

Kouji took a weak breath on his own. Takuya’s body relaxed a bit. He pulled a hand across his eyes, dried them off.

”Please keep breathing”, he whispered.

Kouji took another weak breath. The doorbell rang. Takuya squeezed Kouji’s shoulder and left to open. The ambulance. Takuya let them in, led them to the bedroom. Kouji had stopped breathing again and Takuya hoped it wasn’t too late.

#windy writes #whumpril2023 #digimon frontier #future fic #takuya kanbara #kouji minamoto #not gonna lie it was more inspired by my cat lying in my arms than by the prompt #but the prompt helped even if I kinda lost it in the translation from my brain to the document #it's a very future fic #they're not young at all any longer #not old old but I dunno maybe in their 50s? #it's years after Kouji lost his leg at least x3 #Panther is a black cat Junpei gave Kouji :3 #the cat hates everyone else :3 #anyway this fic is completely self-indulgent sorry for forcing it on the frontier-tag x3 #although I think you've all gotten used to seeing my trash here by now #anyway Kouji's gonna be alright probably and I have no idea what's actually wrong his body just decided to give up on him #Takuya's not gonna let him out of Italy for at least a year after this #Kouji's gonna hate it because he still doesn't know italian

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

#the thing about me is i hate making decisions #im literally worrying myself up and down over things i literally cant even make decisions abt now bc i dont know that ill actually be #accepted into the programs. like im just stressing bc for the program in the uk i have to try for scholarships #bc i dont wanna have to pay to go to school over there when i have equally enticing oppertunity here that will pay me for like 5yrs #so i have to get a full ride scholarship and to do that i have to collaborate with the guy and im gonna feel so bad it it flops #and im gonna feel even worse if i get the scholarship and then get sniped by another school #bc right now my heart kinda wants to go to this school in [redacted] bc i could get a 4-5yr phd in ecology and Evolution #the lab is set up with a bunch of other evolutionary genetics ppl. its near a rad national park. and the reasearch is sick as hell. #like it sounds so good. my heart wants to go there. if theyll have me which i wont kno for literally months. but the uk thing is like #if i get the scholarship i cant say no. like i mean i cant. it would look insanely good on a resume. id get to do directed evolution and #photosynthesis stuff with a guy who has controversial photosynthesis ideas lmao. but idk hes just starting out so it feel more like a leap #of faith. and ive done uk courses they r not as soul crushing as american courses and i want them to crush my soul #and its like a wanky good school. so like i cant say no to that. ugh but the [redacted] school also has nasa and astrobiology connections #and then theres the Canadian guy who's reasearch also sounds sick as hell. and again this is all stupid bc i havent even applied to any of #them yet and idk who will even take me but ugh i dread the decision making #ugh i just need to shut up and work on my applications. but i dont wanna think abt the present bc im not happy doing what i do now #id rather think abt the future where im somewhere else #but i guess ive got time to write this weekend bc our sampling plans were busted by the rain rip #so idk we have to go back at some point. sigh.. #i wish everything could just be easy haha #unrelated #also ive possibly been exposed to covid thru my boss who got an alert that she was in close contact with someone who test positive rip