#that was until i internally decided this to simply be for my own enjoyment and indulgence so if yall hate it fuck you lol

[s0lar-ch3ri]

character writing time (i made my son today its so traumatized already <3)

okay so i did come up with it through a self-made prompt: we always hear about how the villain has better reasons then the hero, or the villain's goal is more just then the hero's. well, the hero realized this after a confrontation with the villain. as such, they quit working for those in charge, the ones wanting to fight for these ideals, wanting to go join the villain. however, being enemies doesn't stop when you switch sides, and the villain pushes the hero away. the hero now is a traitor to both sides, evil in the eyes of all parties involved, and a hero to none no longer.

another thing before we begin, my son aka the character i made uses it/itself pronouns and is boyflux! its unnamed, but ill come up with one later, rn its writing time (yes i built my prompt now differently, this is like the backstory to the scenario, and tw of attempts at suicide and general shitty quality of life) (adding while writing, talking badly about using it/itself pronouns (which i do use, nothing wrong with them)

you can also not look if you wanna just have your own written ideas and dont think mine would follow ours or whatever lol

Was it 7 months, 8? It didn't know. It didn't feel a need to care. Not after all it had worked for came crashing down. For 7 years, it had worked to be great. It was great. It saved people, it fought away bad guys, it was helpful to their cause. Then it opened its eyes, with help from their enemy.

"Do they want a safe city, or are they fighting for the control over it?" Marion had boomed. It normally wasn't enough, but it didn't leave it's head and it had to ask. And oh boy did that go just GREAT. It quit then and there, and in the process became a target for them to destroy. It had planned to maybe work with Marion, maybe even stay with her. But she didn't believe a word. She didn't want to listen long, and those eyes declared the message before she spoke it.

"Leave before I make you."

For 7 years, it was a respected individual. In these 7 or so months, it was unable to be seen as an individual by any. Out of costume and out of any shelter or anything, it had sunk lower then the care for a shot rabid dog. Maybe if it had fucking planned, it wouldn't be freaked out over any look, worrying if any food they'd get was poisoned, if the world could care for a second.

The running tired it's legs. It was tired of running. So here it was, sitting on a crummy wooden bridge, in the bumfuck area of town, where if improvements happened it came from the people's efforts. The railing creaked and it was littered with nails and glue desperately trying to hold together the pieces. The bridge's best area was how built in it was to the road, it supported it well. That didn't stop the paint peeling and uneven planks from filling one with fear. Still, the small snail painting which seemed to have new additions to it each day (new flowers, a sun, friends, anything these kids could paint) was cute. It felt fragile and strong at heart.

The rails were warm. Its hands held the plank and closed its eyes, taking it in. The noises of conversation just too far away, maybe some cars, the wind, its breaths. In, comfort and warmth and love filled itself. Out, the knowledge it couldn't be for someone like it, one who itself knows it couldn't be referred to as human. In, the musky waters about one block away from the bridge filled its brain. Out its arms went. Out its legs went. Out of this world it wished for. Holding in this final breath, even when its lungs wanted nothing more. Just like in the uppers' trainings, it thought. No pain, no gain, it thought.

In, fallen off and finally finding an answer to where the world's kindness went, it had fallen into Marion's. Her dark blue eyes reminded it of the night sky. It wondered if this was death yet.

"Now what the fuck were you doing." She was holding it so nicely. As though she'd feel pity for the rabid dog, still holding on through its pain, no matter how much it didn't want to. "God, breathe, you're not dead yet!" Without warning, it felt a quick flat blow to the stomach, forcing it to let go of whatever air it tried to hold just a little longer.

"Maybe I should have used rope, heh." It's voice was shakey and louder then it wanted.

"Well, I'm grateful you didn't." There was a moment of silence between the two. It's head just looked up at the stars, barely visible.

"...You weren't lying. You weren't trying to deceive me or whatever shit."

"...I guess."

"Why did you go talk to me first?"

"...Don't know, felt right." It lied there.

"Hey," grabbing its cheek and tilting its head down. "I may not fully fucking trust you, but your staying with me for now. If this whole thing was a trick, then fuck you, but I sadly can't let somebody try that again. Not when it's y...someone with good information on those fuckasses." Morian chose her words carefully, as though one mess up and itd try again.

Grabbing her hand, it knew this was probably how itd be going. No way people change heart so easily. Yet, it couldn't lie on this, it was one of the most pleasant kidnappings it had been apart of.

#my non jrwi friend: you gave birth today? #small detail i had to share that happened while writing this #anyways #writing prompt #literally feeling so embarrassed writing this i probs got so much wrong AHHHHHHH #that was until i internally decided this to simply be for my own enjoyment and indulgence so if yall hate it fuck you lol #it never makes sense here lol #writing #my writing #the bright smoothie of words #the (genderneutral) sons of this solar sun

[v--143]

Hii, heard you're gonna open requests??

Can I ask for Lee!Han and Ler!Minho and Lix??

Maybe Han was annoying them on a fansign or smth and when they came back home they taught him a lesson (ik Han lives in the other dorm now but it doesn't matter)

YYYEEEESSSSS thank you so much this is my first ever request I am so excited to try this out 😁 please let me know how it is and be as honest as possible! 🙉

*For the sake of this story, they all live together ❤️‍🩹

< Consequences >

[Lee! Han]

[Ler! Lee Know + Felix]

———————————————————————————

The wide array of Stays that sat in front of the kids was astonishing, many couldn’t even believe they were really there for them. Fansigns have always been precious to the boys, as it’s a time to really get closer with fans and interact face to face… even though some members can sometimes get in over their head.

All the kids had been minding their own business, strolling around the area and getting closer to Stays. Han, however.. had different ways of showing his enthusiasm and enjoyment. And it was one that had Minho and Felix going internally insane.

“Yah, Stay! It’s been so long since we last saw you all. You’ve gotten old!” Lee Know jokingly yelled out to the crowd.

Stays laughed while Han looked over at him in disgust, pointing at him and mouthing “He’s the old one!” over and over.

Han walked behind him repeating this until Minho finally turned around, causing him to freeze in his tracks and throw his arms up in mock innocence while shrugging. The smug look on his face as he started giggling to himself had Minho literally about to wipe it off right then and there, but he decided to be a bit more patient.

Han continued to run around the area throwing pokes and confetti and anything he could really get his hands on at the members. Felix just happened to have his shoe untied, unluckily for him, and Han thought it be a funny idea to step on the lace right as he was making his way to the French fries snack station.

His held back step thanks to Han caused his face to shoot forward into the stand and a small plate of fries (with sauce, mind you) to fly basically everywhere.

“AH WHA- HAN JISUNG” Felix yelled as he looked at the mess around him of sauce and salt and fries. His jaw was dropped as Han, who fled the scene right as Felix fell, was on his hands and knees laughing to his heart’s content while in an attempt to hide behind Stay.

Stays, being the loyal fans we are, ratted him out immediately and Chan quickly made light of the situation with some quick squeezes to the side for Hanji implying for him to get his act together.

“YAH- don’t do that. Get ohof me it was an accident! I swe- swear come ON-” Han repeated while swatting Chan’s hands away from the iron grip he had around his waist carrying him to the van. Han just giggled and let himself fall limp in his hyungs arms as he was carried. Peak babygirlism. In the veins.

Lee Know so was busy helping Felix with his pack of napkins to dry off the mess caused by Han that neither of the two noticed the other 6 members had already entered the van to go back to their dorms. Upon realizing this, they both sprinted towards it and went to sit down, until they realized a long pair of legs were stretched across two entire seats.

“Han, move your legs.” Felix simply said.

“Um, no, no. Why.”

“I need to sit, WE need to sit” Felix stated matter a fact my while motioning to Lee Know, still holding soggy napkins. “We’re only on here last because you got me messy”

“We’Re OnLy On HeRe LaSt BeCaUsE-” Han began to tease until Minho sat on top his thighs roughly.

“AUGHF- WHAT the hehell” Han laughed out despite being crushed and sat on by (now 2) men. However, despite his situation, the stubborn quokka would not give in.

Lee Know, sat on his thighs, began to prod around Han’s stomach with all 5 fingers in a cat-claw like way. Not moving them just yet, but pushing down on his sides and midriff while skittering all over and making mocking noises.

“Yah stohop!” Han complained while swatting at his hand. He laughed while covering up his torso with as much of his arms as he could. That was.. until he spotted the napkins and decided to use Minho’s own fire against him. Grabbing a fistful of them from out his pocket, Han quickly shoved them inside Minho’s mouth.

The shock on his face was indescribable. Jaw dropped, glaring, and a bit amused, Minho stared in shock as Han threw his head back once again and screamed at Lee Know’s dumbfounded reaction to his brattiness, clapping the whole way home.

Felix just sat and watched, making a plan in his head for later that he knew Minho would play along with for the sake of getting him back.

-

Upon arriving at the dorms, everyone got off before the two dancers and Han. Han didn’t have much of a choice since he was still squashed beneath them, but he did want to get out.

“So.. when do we plan on packing it up guys come on let’s go!” Han clapped away at them.

*1 New Message: Dorm Group Chat*

PorangPorangLinos: “For everyone’s safety and sanity I highly recommend you all to close your doors, lock them, and not come out despite any noises you may hear throughout the next half hour. Thank you for your patience and understanding.”

“What is thihis?” Han thought out loud when his phone buzzed with the notification. He looked up at Minho to just see a devilish smirk across his face begin to form.

*2 New Messages: Dorm Group Chat*

Chan 🐺: “Oooh good luck Han. So sorry but you were kind of an ass today.”

Flour Boy: “LOL he won’t survive, bye.”

The gears began to turn in Han’s head as Felix began to lightly squeeze his knee and raise his eyebrows at him. Realization hit him like a brick.

“10 second head start. Not like it’ll help you at all.. but we’re being nice. Run.” Felix and Minho stood up off Han as he sprinted out the van but stopped right outside the doors.

“No- stop, there’s just no way. I wasn’t being THAT annoying. Please guys.” Han practically begged them while giggling in anticipation.

“Are you serious? This is how you treat the small mercy we give?” Minho questioned.

“PLEASE stop-“ Han held his hands out in front of him in a calming motion “do NOT get like this let’s just go in please please-“

“Time’s up.”

“WAIT-“ Han bolted into their dorm room and frantically searched for any spot that could serve to hide behind, but Lee Know and Felix were hot on his trail thanks to wasting time with his negotiation tactics.

“PLEASE!” He screamed as he dashed behind counters and threw pillows to the floor as distractions.

“You will be cleaning up this mess once we’re done!!” Felix yelled.

“I will NOT-“ were his last words as Han was slammed into and picked up roughly by his waist by Minho.

“WAA” Minho easily scooped Han up as he began slamming his hands on the older’s back to put him down.

“HYUHUNG” Han cackled. Minho quickly slammed him down onto the biggest couch in their dorm, having plenty of room for Felix to go and sit behind his head as he adjusted his seating on his waist.

Han had his hands up in a defense position as if to grab Lee Know’s hands if they were to try and strike. He took this opportunity to tease him and pretend that he was gonna get him at any moment, when Felix swiftly grabbed Han’s wrists and sat on them palm-up under his knees. He was now basically immobile save for his frantic kicking behind Minho’s back.

“Yah, okay, I’m SORRY I’m sorry I didn’t mean to be an ass..” Han began. They allowed him to go on, “and I just think maybe you actually don’t have to get like this and-“

Lee Know and Felix kept nodding to everything Han was saying while Lino’s hand snuck up under Han’s shirt and placed itself on his lower side near his hip, resting there. Han stopped talking instantly.

“No.. no.. hyung. Stop.” Han kept repeating nervously as his torso squirmed away from the hand.

“I haven’t done anything.” Lee Know stated matter-a-factly.

“Whyhy are you like thihihis” Han giggled as Lee Know’s fingers began to drum on his sensitive skin, “just DO IT asshole oh my God I hate you.”

“Okay!” Minho and Felix said in unison.

Han screamed loud enough for the entirety of South Korea to hear. Lee Know got busy drilling his thumbs right underneath his rib cage while Felix chose to lightly scrape his arms in an up and down motion.

“AHA HAH HAH- STOPAH AH HAH” Han continued to scream unable to form any actual words due to his condition. Lee Know switched from drilling under his ribs to fully grabbing both his sides near his hips and quickly wriggling his fingers into his back.

Han arched and yelled into the air as his back and sides were attacked relentlessly. Felix continuing to tease at his arms wasn’t any form of help either. He was kicking like a madman at Lee Know’s back and the couch as he kept switching from attacking his back to his stomach to his sides and so on.

“IM SORRY IM SO SO SORRY SO SO SO SORRY” Han kept repeating in hopes of being shown some form of rest, which the two dancers had no intention of giving him just yet. His high pitched laughs and head slams onto the couch caused Lino and Felix to go hysterical with him, both of them almost doubling over in laughter themselves.

After about 2 minutes they decided to give Han some form of mercy after all his pleas. Lee Know still took this moment to tease him though, threatening to poke him everywhere and having him scream every time he came near him.

“AH- STOP no quihit it NO NO! NO. PLEASE get away stay AWAY!” His screams gradually getting louder or lower depending on Lee Know’s hand location had Felix absolutely dying behind him. Lix chose to go for his neck and ears now, causing the cutest reaction out of Han, moving his head side to side and squealing while bringing his legs as close to his chest (Lee Know’s back, really) as possible. They cooned at him and Lino began to lightly scratch at his lower stomach, emitting louder laughs and kicks.

“You ASSHOLES please PLEHEHEASE I can’t tahake it STOP” he begged again.

Felix fake gasped. “What did you just call us..?”

“Assholes? US? US?!?!” Lino dramatically yelled as his face got deathly closer to Han’s neck. With him sitting on his waist, he was easily able to scribble his hands on Han’s sides and lean forward to bite at his neck and shake his hair into his collarbones as Felix leaned forward and targeted his chest.

“OHOH MY GOD AHAG HAHA HAHAAHAG AGHA HA HA HA” Han was a mixture of a million flustered emotions. All he could do was shake his head from side to side and laugh into the dorms living room as he was relentlessly attacked, mumbling all his words together with tears streaming down his face. The combo of rapid fingers up and down his sides, precise biting to his sensitive neck, fluffy hair teasing his collarbones, and prodding at his chest had him going ballistic.

While Felix and Minho were absolutely tranced and in adoration of the cute, joyful screaming boy in front of them.. it didn’t take long for his stamina to wear down and his laughter to go silent. With a few squeezes to his knee (and some cursing) Lino stood up, Felix following suit.

Right as Han’s hands were freed he curled in on himself almost immediately and hugged his legs to his chest. He was still laughing, silently, to himself in his curled position. His face was wet from the tears and he was still eerily aware of his surroundings.. as Lee Know poked his side and he rolled right off the couch with a loud yelp. Felix doubled over at this again.

“Soo cute. Don’t be such a brat if you can’t handle the consequences!” Felix said laughing.

“You guys… almost killed me..” Han said giggling through ragged breaths.

“You brought it upon yourself Hanji! Now clean up the mess of napkins on the floor and go to bed before we use your drenched hair as the mop.” Minho threatened.

Han quickly threw the napkins away as told, shielding his still-sensitive body with his arms while smiling to himself. Felix hugged him from behind and walked with him all the way to his bed before going off to his own.

Smiling to himself in bed, Han buried his face into his pillow as he remembered the feeling of the hands all over him that allowed him to laugh freely into the air, and the happiness that came with it. He rubbed at his sides and internally thanked Stays for ratting him out.

———————————————————————————

AAAAAAAAAHHHHHH you guys have no idea how LONG I’ve been wanting to do this for and how many times I’ve put it off. It’s a miracle this one made it 😭 thank you SO much for the request and please let me know how it is! I think I’d like to take more requests in the future depending on the feedback for this one. If I should change anything, please lmk!! 🩵🩵🩵

*Note: As you guys probably noticed, yes I avoided using the tword throughout this ENTIRE fic and writing process. Would I use it? Absolutely, I think it would make the fic much better. CAN I use it? NO🦭 I apologize but I genuinely can’t even type it out. Like im serious it takes a TOLL it is so flustering for some reason but but but maybe one day 🌝 I hope it’s still good anyways <333 mwuah besitos

#tword community #tword content #tword post #tword thoughts #tword blog #tickle #tickle fic #skz tickle #kpop tickle #kpop tickle fic #straykids tickle #straykids #skz tickle fic #tword skz #LeeKnow #Felix #Han Jisung

[dollsome-does-tumblr]

we watched netflix persuasion until it had like 30 minutes left and everyone decided they would rather go to bed instead (ahaha!) and i would say at this point, here is my assessment-- 

i am definitely of the demographic where i actually find the “talking to the camera in between sips of wine” thing pretty diverting, i’ll admit. i like her walking through the house explaining the characteristics of her awful fam to us, her offscreen friends. i totally get finding it annoying but i find that conceit pretty enjoyable. (i also enjoyed it a lot in enola holmes, fleabag, miranda, etc., and of course shows like the office.) i realized watching this movie that i think the character dakota johnson is playing is actually pretty fun as her own thing, and if this was a movie about a regency spinster who randomly decided EFF MY ANNOYING FAMILY, I DON’T CARE ABOUT BEHAVING MYSELF ANY LONGER, TIME TO BE WINE DRUNK 24/7 AND TELL THESE FOOLS WHAT’S WHAT and then started blurting out weird things at dinner parties and wearing jam moustaches and pouring gravy on her head and slipping in her own pee in the forest and always always having a drink in her hand and a jim halpert smirk on her face, it wouldn’t necessarily be bad. it is, at least, a very distinct character choice, lololol, and i think she’s funny and winsome at it.

however -- and this really goes without me even stating it, i simply add my voice to the despairing chorus -- it is NOT anne elliot and it is NOT persuasion and the idea of people thinking that it IS persuasion because they haven’t read the book is pretty upsetting, and there’s the rub. it definitely makes me regret that it’s so common right now for entertainment to have to be an adaptation or some part of a preexisting hyped fandom, because i think this would have been a fun tone for a movie if it was, you know, AN ORIGINAL STORY! and it would be neat if bridgerton’s popularity made a space for some new regency romance stories in film & tv. but alas!

also wentworth is SO underwhelming and devoid of personality that it’s a real “her??” arrested development situation. girl! WHAT? why are you screaming “LOVE ME OR KILL ME, IDIOT” into a throw pillow about HIM? run off with henry golding!! that’ll show ‘em all! (that, for the record, is how the not-persuasion original movie would go. YAS!)

my one unmitigated compliment is that i like the set design and, like, the look of this film. it’s been a rainy week and while i love a rainy week, i did enjoy seeing all the bright colors and stuff. (are bright colors very persuasion? probably not! but we’re beyond all that!)

oh also, before i forget! i think one way this movie’s approach COULD have worked is if anne was so sassy to the camera when talking to us, but still always very quiet and measured in her actual interactions with other characters. i still don’t think it’s quite anne to be so god damn sassy in her wry observations about the very selfish people around her, but that would be a way to highlight how very internal all her thoughts and feelings are and how little the people in her life care to see the real her beyond what she can do for them. so i think if they’d had restraint in how they portrayed interacting-with-others-in-the-world anne, it would’ve felt more attuned to the original story. but of course, they did not do that!

#dollsome's deep thoughts #netflix persuasion #p.s. sorry article from vogue or vanity fair or whatever it was that first set off the warning bells: #i do NOT think this is the funniest austen adaptation .......... at all

[introvert--weeb]

Hello! Hooe your having a nice day! So please hear me out! Can i request for Mikey, draken, mitsuya,nahoya, ran,rindou,hanma,and baji with a sweet s/o but have a brutal threat to someone with sweet smile and said " were enjoying our day... Can you please kindly fuck off before i lose my cool and chop your dick/rip your ovary? " when someone interrupt them in date by flirting with either of you

Gotta get some jealous vibes on this blog one way! I love this idea! I hope you don't mind that I edited the line a little for each scenario so I don't end up writing the exact same dialogue over and over again

Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy it!!

--

Mikey, Draken, Mitsuya, Nahoya, Ran, Rindo, Hanma, Baji on a date that gets interrupted

TW: mentions of threats, language, jealousy, cringe-y insults that authour has made up based around the prompt :)

--

Mikey

It had all started off as a normal date between the two of you. Mikey had insisted that you both visit this new dessert cafe that had opened up not that long ago in Shibuya. He had been saving it as a date idea and resisted the urge to demand Draken to take him. It was torture for the sweet-tooth but it would be worth it when you both could experience it together.

You were as equally as excited as your boyfriend. It had been months since you were both able to just go on a date alone. After all, every other time someone who always show up and it would quickly devolve into a hang out session. Today though, Mikey had made sure to express how this time was just between you and anyone who dared interrupt will be dealt with. Sounds threatening but it mainly meant they would have to make it up to the two of you by buying bag loads of desserts for a week. Childish but effective.

It wasn't long until you were both seated at a table, one that was directly by the window. You couldn't believe how perfect this place was! The tables held a menu that was shaped as a crepe and even the napkins that were available had desserts printed along the surface. It was just so cute!

Nothing could do anything to ruin this date for you. You both ordered your favourite desserts (Mikey had to order something other than dorayaki and so simply ordered ice cream) and were now just waiting for the order to be brought over. All was well in the cafe.

That was until a girl around your age had approached the table. At first, you thought she might know Mikey or was maybe one of Emma's friends who simply wanted to say hi. However, that was quickly thrown out when she began to flirt with your boyfriend, twirling a strand of light brown hair around her finger. You simply watched, anger bubbling dangerously in your chest and you had to keep yourself from beating her ass. She must know you were there, after all, you were right beside her.

"Can you please stop flirting with my boyfriend?" You forced a dangerously sweet smile on your face. "We are enjoying our date. So please kindly fuck off before I rip your ovaries from your body," your tone didn't match your words. Every word was dripping in honey yet your eyes screamed 'murder'.

Mikey couldn't hold back his grin from how you threatened the girl. He knew you could be intimidating but this threat was something that amused him immensely. Rip her ovaries out? Over simply trying to flirt with him? Well, he sure couldn't get any more smug. You loved him that much, huh?

"Wow Y/N, never knew you could be so intimidating," the blond joked, amusement glinting in his dark irises. You simply blushed, feeling a little embarrassed but mainly proud of yourself.

The two of you continued on with your date as the waiter brought your desserts to the table. You couldn't have asked for a better day with your Mikey.

Draken

Draken had suggested that you both go to the beach for the day since the weather was so warm. You had packed a picnic for the two of you, wearing cute swimwear underneath a f/c t-shirt and shorts. Slipping on a pair of sandals, Ken had arrived not too long after and you were both off on your way to your destination.

You had both found the perfect spot and set up the towels. Draken simply threw his shirt off as he was already wearing his swim shorts, while you began to strip yourself of the outerwear. Your boyfriend couldn't stop staring once he realised how good you looked in the swimwear.

However, he wasn't the only one to notice and in fact, a group of boys had taken notice and were ogling at your now exposed figure. Draken nor yourself noticed and continued to enjoy your time together. After all, this was quite rare nowadays since Mikey would take up a lot of the blond's time. You didn't mind, it just made days like this extra special and much more enjoyable.

Ken had offered to grab the two of you drinks from the beach stall not too far from where you were situated. You were appreciative for the offer and asked your boyfriend to grab you your favourite cold beverage. He agreed before placing a soft kiss to your forehead, standing up to complete the errand.

It hadn't even been two minutes since the tall blond had left your side before one of the boys had approached you. If it wasn't for the cocky attitude that practically oozed out of him, you would have waved him off with a smile and an apology. In fact, you had tried. He just seemed to be incapable of taking no as an answer or accepting that you were with Draken and that's who you were going to remain with.

Speaking of Draken, he was beginning his way back to where you were, cold beverages in his hands. Everything seemed fine until he noticed the boy trying his hardest to flirt with his partner. No. He wasn't going to have that. And so your boyfriend began his march over to the towel, ready to smash his fists into this idiot's face once he had handed you your drink. However, as he got close enough, his anger and jealousy dissolved into pure amusement.

"Right, this obviously isn't getting through your stupidly thick skull," a heavy sigh indicated how annoyed you had become. "I am enjoying my date with my boyfriend and I really don't need you ruining it. Now, kindly fuck off back to wherever you crawled out from before I chop your dick off and ram it down your throat!" The smile that accompanied your words was too sweet for the threat. It was as if two personalities were clashing together in this one moment.

The boy, now scared for his own safety, was quick to scurry back to his friends. Draken watched before taking his rightful place at your side once again. Cold beverage now handed to you, he opened his own before taking a large mouthful. It cooled him down instantly and a breath of relief was released.

"So... About you threatening that boy..." Draken couldn't stop the smirk that tugged at his lips as your face instantly burned a bright pink. He was going to enjoy teasing you about this.

Mitsuya

The two of you were hanging out at the park with Luna and Mana. Takashi had invited you with him since the girls were asking about playing with you again. Ever since you both started dating, you had grown close to the two small girls, almost acting like an older sibling in some ways.

Luna and Mana were playing on the play equipment while you and Takashi were relaxing on a nearby bench, keeping an eye on the two young children. An arm around your shoulder as the two of you conversed about your weeks. You had a simple week so far; school and homework, while Mitsuya spoke about his Home Ec Club and the basics of his Toman life.

The date couldn't have been going any better, in your opinion. You were spending much needed time to unwind and be around the sweetest boy you knew. There was very little that could ruin this date, right? Well, Takashi had left the bench to make sure his sisters were entertained and safe. You had told the boy that you would watch over his jacket and bag, a soft smile directed in his direction before he went onto the playground.

Moments later and Takashi looked over towards where he had left you with his belongings. He was expecting to see you maybe scrolling through your phone or even looking over to watch the siblings. However, the sight that greeted him caused his blood to boil slightly and his jaw to clench. Some random boy had decided to begin flirting with you and it looked like you were quickly getting fed up with the advances. Telling Luna and Mana that he was going to check on you, he began to make his way back to you.

"C'mon beautiful! Just give me a chance!" Even his voice was starting to grate on Mitsuya's nerves. If he carried on, Takashi would not hesitate to teach him a lesson, even if it went against his more peaceful ways.

"Listen. For one, I don't know you nor do I wish to get to know you. Another thing, I have a boyfriend and we are currently on a date so he should be back soon. Finally, please fuck off before I rip off your nuts and use them to feed the damn squirrels!" You smiled softly at the boy, your eyes glinting with actual intent on carrying through with the threat. That was enough to scare the boy and for Mitsuya to chuckle to himself.

He understood how vicious you could get when you used your words. It was what had first got him to notice you after all. Internally, he was still seething at how the boy had tried to take what was his, but outwardly, the lilac-haired male gave you a soft smile and sat back down next to you.

Nahoya

Of course the two of you would be hanging out at the arcade. After all, you were both competitive and would settle disagreements with games. The current disagreement had came to be settled with a game of House of the Dead, a zombie shooting game. You would both take a turn and then whoever had gotten the furthest into the game would win this argument. Sure it was costing you more than if you were playing casually but this was your pride on the line here.

Currently, you were winning and Nahoya was refusing to back down. It got to the point where Smiley had dragged you away from the House of the Dead machine and decided this disagreement would be decided through the basketball hoop games. After all, he was much better at this than the shooting games. You just agreed, now enjoying the time you both were spending together as well as how desperate your boyfriend was becoming.

This had quickly evolved into a date, no matter how much Nahoya was insisting it was to settle the disagreement. In fact, he was enjoying himself and kept dragging you from one game to another. At this point, neither of you could remember the initial disagreement that started your trip to the arcade.

Collecting armfuls of tickets, your boyfriend had suggested you both head over to the prize counter to cash them in for a prize that you both could enjoy. And so you made your way to the counter where a girl a little older than you was stationed, looking bored out of her mind. That was until she had caught sight of Smiley. In an instant, she had gone from bored to cheerful and more than happy to help.

Nahoya had allowed you to choose the prize since, although he hated to admit it, the majority of the tickets were yours. However, your answer on what prize you wanted had fallen on deaf ears. In fact, this girl seemed too busy ogling at your boyfriend and trying to appear as appealing as she could. Not that Nahoya noticed.

You tried one more time only to be met with the same result. Part of you wanted to beat this girl's face yet the other part found yourself proud that you had been the one to get someone as desirable as Smiley. However, this was quickly dissolving into jealous anger as she reached across and 'accidentally' brushed against Nahoya's hand as she took the tickets he held. "Oops, sorry~!" Her voice was getting on your nerves along with those flirtatious giggles and glances.

"If you wish to keep your arms and ovaries where they belong, I recommend you stop flirting with my boyfriend and get the damn prize I have asked for twice. Please and thank you!"

Smiley was surprised at your actions. You never usually get so jealous. He noticed how you smiled at the girl, almost gritting your teeth behind the barrier of your closed lips. Nahoya couldn't help but find it so cute and savoured the moment. He was definitely going to be bragging to the boys later on about how badass you seemed right then.

The girl clicked her tongue before going off to collect what you had asked for. She must have been salty over the fact she couldn't continue to flaunt off her assets to Nahoya. What she didn't know though was that she was simply saving herself from your wrath. After all, you were not past dragging her outside to defend what was rightfully yours if she kept testing her luck.

"Remind me to never get on your bad side, babe!" Smiley joked, his usual grin growing. You simply rolled your eyes while agreeing with the peach-haired Kawata.

It wasn't long until you had your prize choice in your possession and the two of you continued what had quickly become a date. That meant a bike ride around Shibuya, heading to the local ramen shop that Smiley loved, and then back to either his or your house to watch a movie.

Ran

You would follow your boyfriend anywhere when you could spare the time. Currently, you were clinging to the taller Haitani's arm while Rindo was talking to his elder brother about some gang business. Although you were always around, you never did get involved in their conversation. After all, Ran had told you were too innocent and sweet to get involved in such a violent life. He did everything he could to protect you from his lifestyle.

Due to how intimidating Ran could look and act, you really didn't have to worry about girls trying to flirt with him, and guys knew who he was so there was no way they would risk it. And so you had no reason to be jealous. Ran however, he was constantly on edge in case someone decided to try and steal you away from him. But then he would remember that no-one would dare mess with the Haitani brothers and everything would be fine again.

"Babe? I just need to nip into the convenience store real quick." You pointed over to where the closest one was situated, remembering how you needed some odd bits of things. Your boyfriend simply nodded in acknowledgement, placed a quick peck on the top of your head before continuing his conversation with Rindo. Smiling over the affection, you quickly made your way to your destination. The quicker you got there, the sooner you could be back with Ran after all.

It was a pretty normal trip for you. You had collected all the items you needed, paid for them and started your way back to where your boyfriend and his brother were probably still waiting. Maybe they had finished the gang discussions and you could join in with whatever the next topic was! You sure hoped so since it was starting to get you down not being able to contribute to the conversation. It was as you stepped back onto the street that a boy had stopped you, a nervous yet confident look in his eyes.

Ran would occasionally shift his gaze from his younger brother towards the store you had entered. It was his way of making sure you were safe. After all, there were a lot of people in Roppongi that disliked the Haitani brothers due to their position. Anyone could decide to take out their grudge against him on you and he would not be having that.

It was one of the times when he glanced up that he had noticed the boy talking to you. Your facial expression was telling him that you were quickly losing patience and that something must be happening. Ran interrupted Rindo mid-sentence before trying to casually make his way over. After all, it could be nothing and he wasn't the one to jump to conclusions about a situation. However, he had a hard time keeping his anger in check once he heard the boy's flirting. It was just too bad the rod was left at home.

"You're either deaf or really stupid. I have said that I need to get back to my boyfriend. Now please, fuck off before I chop your dick off and turn your balls into fuckin' earrings," your expression was really sweet when you had uttered the threat. Your lips were curled into a soft smile while your eyes had shut to hide the murderous aura that would surely be seen within them. Maybe Ran was rubbing off on you too much. After all, you used to be such a sweet person who was unable to say boo to a goose. Now you were making threats that even had your boyfriend nervous.

The boy was quick to follow your advice, walking as fast as he could away from the area. You let out a deep sigh before moving your gaze to where Ran and Rindo would be situated. Instead, you were surprised to find the taller Haitani frozen in place not far from you.

"Hey baby! I got my things!" The hand carrying the bag lifted to display the items. Ran snapped out of this daze before giving you a soft smile. He would have to tell Rindo to not piss you off.

Rindo

Nobody would believe you but Rindo loved taking you to cafes that he would come across when he and his brother wandered the streets of Roppongi. It was more to make you happy but he really enjoyed these outings. He could spoil you with your favourite drink and dessert while it was a quiet space for you both to talk about your days. It was one of the only places where Rindo could get away from all the gang business. Here he was just Rindo Haitani, your boyfriend.

You both arrived at one of your favourite cafes, ready to start the first half of your date. Rindo had planned the day so you were unsure on what would occur but that just made it more exciting! Taking your usual table at the back, Rindo couldn't help but chuckle as he watched you scan the menu. He knew you would pick the same thing every time you visited and yet it was almost a ritual you had developed. Sit at the table, scan the menu, decide to have the same thing. He found this adorable and enjoyed the predictability of the situation. Made him feel like a normal middle-schooler for once.

It wasn't long until the waitress had come over to take your orders. You noticed how she must have been new since you had never seen her working here before. At least she wouldn't judge that you ordered the same thing, you thought. The exchange was starting well, she had taken your order with very little hassle which you appreciated. However, it turned sour when she turned her attention to your boyfriend. It was as if a switch was flicked within the waitress as she began to get a little too comfortable around the blond.

Small arm touches when pointing at something on the menu, leaning over so her cleavage was more pronounced, the flirty heart eyes and giggles. All of it was beginning to irk you. Surely she could discern for herself that this was a date. You really couldn't believe the nerve the girl had in doing what she was doing while you sat across from the scene. Thankfully, she had finally taken the order and went to grab the drinks and desserts.

"You OK babe?" Rindo noticed how your usual smile was tense and more forced in its appearance. It was concerning him since you were fine a moment ago. This poor boy didn't realise how much the waitress was flirting, if he even registered that there was flirting. It's not his fault really. He just hardly gets attention when they could simply flirt with his brother.

You didn't answer, just relaxed a little bit. You couldn't get mad at the blond in front of you. After all, he was clueless when it came to girls liking him. Really, you should have kept that in mind considering how long it took for you both to get together due to his obliviousness to that. Slowly your usual smile was reappearing and Rindo felt like he could relax again himself. That was until the waitress came back over.

"Here's your order, handsome! And a little something extra~!" The girl winked as she placed your boyfriend's drink and dessert in front of him. You had caught sight of a slip of paper and what appeared to be a lipstick kiss staining the surface. Oh hell no. This was not on. It was hurting your face by trying to maintain the sweet expression.

"Excuse me but can you not flirt with my boyfriend while I am sat right here?" Keep up the smile Y/N. "After all, we are on a date and before you decided to act like a desperate hooker, we were actually enjoying ourselves. So now that we have our order, can you please fuck off before I decide to rearrange your face and make it so you can't have children?"

Rindo's eyes were as wide as the plates that held the desserts. He didn't really know what to think at that moment. What had happened to his sweet Y/N? Where did you learn to threaten someone? What he wasn't realising was that he was rubbing off on you after all this time you spent together.

The waitress simply glared at you before storming off back to the counter. She must have seen just how serious you were being even though your face had remained as sweet as sugar throughout it. You were proud of yourself and turned your attention from the girl towards your dessert and drink. In excitement, you grabbed at the spoon and scooped some of the sweet dessert into your mouth like a small child would with ice cream. A happy hum left your body as you enjoyed your treat.

"You're scary, you know that right babe?"

"I'm just protecting what's mine, Rin."

Hanma

Hanma enjoyed having you around him most of the time. He loved how you made his days more fun, especially when it came to how jealous you would get. In fact, he thought it was probably one of the most amusing sights he had been blessed with. You were so sweet usually that it was a huge surprise to others when you got jealous.

That day, the lanky male had decided to take you to the amusement park, thinking it was the best way to spend his time away from Kisaki. It was also a good way to get you to cling to him as you were always nervous when it came to certain rides like the Ferris Wheel. You could handle rollercoasters and other rides, but once you were sat on the rickety bench of the Ferris Wheel, you would have to cling onto your boyfriend's arm in fear of falling out.

Just like most of the others, it was rare for you to get some alone time with Shuji anymore. After all, if he wasn't busy with Kisaki, he was busy with something else. But you knew he would show up at your bedroom window most nights to just say hi and get a kiss before he left again. It wasn't an ideal relationship but it worked for you two.

So when Hanma had text you about the date, you were quick to get yourself ready. You made sure that your outfit was super cute and dolled yourself up a little. Hanma would no doubt tease you about how much effort you put in for him but you knew he secretly loved it. You were his girl after all and he was a lucky man to have you on his arm.

The journey from your house to the amusement park was a pretty uneventful one. Hanma had picked you up on his bike but had decided he would follow the rules of the road. As unpredictable as ever. He parked up his bike and you both went to buy your tickets to start the date properly.

The day was spent like any other amusement park date people went on. You rode the rollercoasters and ate your fair share of snacks that you knew weren't good for you. Everything was perfect. Well, if you excluded having to hold Hanma back from beating up a boy that had tried flirting with you. That took some doing since an angry Hanma is a strong Hanma.

It was as the sun was starting to set that the incident occurred. A girl with long blond hair had decided that she would try her luck in getting THE Shuji Hanma. All while you were standing there, cuddling into his arm. At first, you tried being polite by making your presence known. If she knew he was already taken then she should lose interest and move on with her day. What wishful thinking, eh? Instead, it seemed to spur her on more, even commenting on how Shuji deserved a 'real woman' not a 'child'. That was the last straw.

"I don't know whether you are blind, stupid or have a fuckin death wish at this point." You let go of Hanma's arm and stepped towards the annoyance. "But as you could clearly see, Hanma is taken. Now, unless you want me to put you six feet under, I suggest you fuck off and leave my boyfriend alone."

Maybe it was the sweet smile that accompanied the threat but the girl was scared. You were obviously crazy, she thought as she rushed back over to her group of friends. She was probably lucky to only get off with the verbal threat. If she hadn't have left, you would have caused a lot of injuries to her. After all, you had to be strong enough to do that when Hanma was your boyfriend.

Speaking of Hanma, he had watched the whole exchange with an amused smirk on his face. This threat was tame compared to the others he had heard leave your mouth before. However, he was disappointed that the other girl ran off. He was hoping to see you make that threat a reality until he would have to stop you. However, he still got to see that cute angry pout that would always show up when you had calmed down.

"If only she had stuck around. Could have had some fun."

"Shut up beanpole."

Baji

Baji was the one who would mainly get jealous. After all, you were gorgeous and he felt he didn't deserve you. So when anyone paid a little too much attention to you than what he felt comfortable with, he would get annoyed and have to stop himself from getting violent.

You both had decided to hang out just the two of you for once. Chifuyu was busy working at the pet store after all so you could count that day as a date. Baji had his arm wrapped around your shoulders as you wandered the streets of Shibuya, entering stores that caught your attention.

The date was going well. Considering you both would usually have Chifuyu, and more recently Takemichi, joining you, it was nice to just have some time to be a couple without worrying about making the younger blonds feel like third and fourth wheels. That meant you couldn't really enjoy innocent physical contact like this without feeling guilty. So this was rare and you were enjoying it a lot.

"Hey sweetie, you want to go get some Peyoung Yakisoba?" Baji asked, starting to direct you towards the usual spot you would get the delicious dish. You weren't sure why he asked considering he knew the answer would be yes. So with a giggle, you snuggled into the boy's side with a grin.

Baji felt his heart skip about 10 beats at the sight. You were honestly too cute for him and moments like this proved it.

The walk was only a few minutes but you remained glued to the boy's side the entire way. It was your favourite spot to be. Baji had offered to go and order the noodles while you wait outside, something that you reluctantly agreed to. You only agreed since the noodle shop was so small that you couldn't realistically stick by your boyfriend. And so you sat on the bench not too far from the door.

Baji wanted to be quick, not entirely comfortable with you sitting alone. Usually Chifuyu would keep you company and that kept the boy calm but since he wasn't here, you were forced to be alone. And that didn't sit right with the 1st Division Captain.

You kept yourself entertained by scrolling through your phone but that was short-lived as a boy a little older than you turned up. Placing a smile on your face, you decided to hear out what the boy might want. After all, it could be as innocent of a request as asking for directions. However, you were a bit too naive in that regard.

Your boyfriend exited the building, the noodles in hand, when he saw the boy flirting with you. Anger bubbled almost instantly within his chest and he was about to march over and pummel this idiot into the ground. It was only what you said next that had him stop in his war path.

"As I have said about 14 times now, I have a loving boyfriend and if you think I'm going to leaving him for a limp dick like you, you're delusional. Now, fuck off before I chop your shrimp dick off and offer it to the restaurant to use in one of their dishes. Although there wouldn't be enough to use in even a kiddie's portion." You delivered the threat with your usual smile yet Baji could see that your eyes were sending daggers the boy's way.

Baji couldn't be more proud of you for how you threatened that idiot. It amused him so much that he couldn't prevent the laughter that erupted from him. The boy who had previously seemed filled with confidence, was now running off in fear that you would follow through with the threat. You just glanced over at your amazing boyfriend with a grin on your features.

"C'mon babe, we're heading home. I'm so proud of how you handled that though." Baji calmed his laughter before placing a kiss to your forehead. Arm wrapped around you, the two of you headed towards the apartment building Baji lived in.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #draken #ken ryuguji #mikey sano #draken x reader #ken ryuguji x reader #manjiro sano #mikey x reader #mitsuya takashi x reader #mitsuya takashi #mitsuya x reader #tokyo revengers nahoya #nahoya x reader #nahoya kawata #smiley x reader #ran haitani x reader #ran haitani #rindo haitani x reader #rindo haitani #tokyo revengers hanma #hanma shuji x reader #hanma shuji #keisuke baji x reader #baji x reader #baji keisuke #anime drabble #requested

[slutfor-fictionalmen]

¥ Pretty boy ¥

Rich! Izuku midoriya x F! Plus size! reader

Hi everyone!!! this is part of @bakugohoex‘s Collab, you should check the rest of the collab and her works out!!! enjoy!!

Izuku comes from a rich family, owns lavish cars and houses upon houses but all he really wants is you. You come from a humble background, refusing wealth but dealing when izuku wants to spoil you. Izu can literally fuck you anywhere because he is that rich; Nsfw, Fluff, public sex(kinda), smut(kinda? dom izu), reader is kinda a cheapskate.

Sorry it’s so bad; I may continue/ revise based on how this is taken!

“Oh, come on, Y/n! It’ll be so fun, I promise! it’s just one trip; you won’t feel like you did last time!” Memories of the past trip flash through the shapely woman's mind: paparazzi, lavish hotels(yes hotels, he wanted a different view every night), thousand dollar meals, designer boutiques, everything that you had avoided in your life as a pro hero was ironical, as it was all tackled at once.

You loved your boyfriend, and you admire his willingness to give, but this was the main reason you gave a lot of your earnings to health organizations and hotlines, you didn’t feel you needed the money, you were doing just fine without it, eating at home, carpooling to save on gas, helping out at your apartment to get a bit taken off of your rent. But Izuku was born into a life of wealth. Heir to the Yagi fortune, but despite his wealth, you wouldn’t know he was wealthy by simply meeting him.

“Oh, don’t patronize me izuku, you know I would hate that trip, I always hate overly expensive trips, I could get the same trip through my booking sites for half the price, and you know that!” You huff leaning over to fold your laundry. Izuku walks behind you, placing his large hands on your hips and leaning his head on your shoulder. You could feel his pleading look without even looking at him.

“Indulge me, baby. I promise I won’t make it too expensive,” You felt him kiss at your neck, making you sigh until he let out the final part of his argument, a simple,” Please?” You took his hands off your hips and walked away. Izuku sat defeated until he heard you rustle around, cursing as you made a mess of your once clean closet, and came back into the room with a defeated look and a suitcase. “How long are we going for?” Izuku smiled widely and spun you around, his eyes full of love.

----------------time skip to the day of the plans----------------

You gave yourself one last look in the mirror before sighing, regretting agreeing to this trip as you fix your sundress, admiring how the fabric hugs your soft curves perfectly. You knew this vacation would be perfect, that you would love it, but your stubborn mind wanted to fight the potential enjoyment.

Your mouth turned bitter as you internally fought with yourself, going from a fight of stubbornness to a battle against your self-confidence. Your mind picked on everything that wasn’t on your mind before as a deflect of being questioned. Your unpleasant thoughts were interrupted by a certain green-haired man as he walked into the room, stunned at how beautiful you looked in that dress. Distracted by the unmistakable twinkle in his eyes, your thoughts soon disappeared and were replaced with wonder.

“What’re you looking at?” He shook himself out of his trance to approach you with a smile. “Just looking at my beautiful baby girl in that dress, she so horribly fought me on. You look gorgeous, by the way.” His rough hands were felt through the sheer material of the outfit as his thumbs rubbed gentle circles on your wide hips.

You smiled softly and kissed his cheek, looking into his eyes. “Are you ready to go? Cause one more minute, and I may just back out of this.” His eyes go wide as he pulls away and rushes to get everything in the car. Your chuckles are short-lived as he soon comes back and picks you up. “You’re the last thing I need so we can go” you squeak as you remember this man can lift nearly 300 pounds. Why shouldn’t he lift you? Still, every time he lifts you, it comes as a surprise.

He quickly sets you into the car, alarming you with the fact that the driver isn’t any driver at all, it’s one of his close friends, todoroki, and this isn’t even your car; it’s his. “I figured we didn’t need to use the driver and waste money on parking, todo’s gonna drop us off, and I’ll have the driver pick us up after!” Your eyes watered, you knew that the rest of the trip would be extravagant but it was these little things that made you fall in love with him, over and over again. You sat with your hand in his all the way to the airport. You were excited to see new places but dreading the paparazzi.

You stood out of the car, taking in the cool breeze and walking around the car to get to the bags in the back. You bring both of your bags out, along with your carry-ons, and wait for him to finish his conversation with his friend to come to collect his bags. You hear izuku bid him farewell and thank him for the ride before he slips a 20 for gas in his friend’s car and walks to you. “Now don’t be mad...” His eyes shift when he bows his head, preparing to be lectured,” I got first class, and I know you don’t-” You laughed, only calming to rub his shoulder with a smile. “It’s ok! I’ll let it pass.... for now. Now, let’s get our free drink on!”

You’re the first to board, ignoring the dirty looks from the other passengers; you made a vow to enjoy this time.... for izuku’s sake. Your smile didn’t falter, even when the check-in lady gave you a surprising look when you gave her the ticket. You walked onto the plane with confidence; izuku could only say that you looked as if you were born for this… that you belonged here.  Your Seats were opened to each other, making a two-bedroom cabin area.

You let izuku walk past you to put your bags to the side and look at the menu. One thing you could never understand is his appetite, he eats more than a group of teenage boys, and he still keeps fit, even if he doesn’t work out. You never found that fair. You shook your head out of the thoughts and sat next to him, searching the tv for a decent channel. You shut off the tv when you saw the news about a new villain, suddenly stressing about the city and what’ll happen if you leave. Your mind flooded with thoughts of the places you love on fire, the people you loved killed and showed as a warning to all the other heroes.

Luckily Deku, who had just finished ordering pretty much the whole menu, sensed your sudden situation and reached over you, pulling the leaver to set your seat back. The sudden movement knocked you out of your daze, causing you to look at the man perched above you with a frustrated look on his face. “You have just been a whirlwind of emotions today, haven’t you? You refuse to calm down; the city will be fine, it’s only a week, and we’re not even going that far!” “but-” “No buts! You don’t want to make me sad, do you?” You sigh, realizing that it was highly improbable for that to happen while you were gone, but that didn’t stop you from worrying. Despite that, you sucked it up, deciding that you might as well enjoy these trips before something happens, after all hero business is very dangerous.

“No Izuku, i don’t” He tilts your chin in order for your eyes to reach his. “Izuku? Really? You know that’s not what i want to hear princess.” You suddenly realize the shift of atmosphere, Izuku’s eyes darkened. “No daddy.” “Good girl.”

He lets his hand drag to the bottom of your dress, pushing up the tinted fabric as he moves his hand to rest on your thigh. Your thighs clench unintentionally when he reaches for the top of your underwear, flinching when he snaps the fabric back onto your skin.

You weren’t used to your soft lover taking the lead, you were the one who took control. You usually calmed your own nerves, with him of course. But you couldn’t think, you couldn't take control, you just had to let him help you, clear your mind and calm you.

You couldn’t help but shiver at the look in his eyes when he’s in control. His eyes darkening,a small glimmer in his eyes is still present but he looks….. Animalistic. You slide your underwear off of your plush form, confidently as he watches you with a ever-growing tent in his pants.

Izuku reached out to your body, holding your soft hip as he moves to slide his form between your thighs. “I don’t think i can be patient much longer beautiful, i may just fuck you like this.” He cups your cheek and uses his thumb to play with your lip, testing how far he can go before sticking his finger in your mouth. You obediently suck on it, watching him bite his lip and shift away to get undressed. “Who says i don’t want you to?”

He quickly takes off his shirt, his scars and freckles littering his tan skin. Izuku's pants are soon to follow allowing his cock to tap his stomach. You always loved how easy it was to get him to get hard, he was always ready for you to fuck him, ready to make love at the mere thought of your full, soft form.

You heard izuku whisper a quick ‘fuck it’ before he grabbed your thighs, wrapping them around his hips and grinding softly onto your soft cunt. Your soft moans fueled the burning fire of his. He grabbed his shaft, lining himself up with your weeping hole. He kissed you deeply before pushing into you, his lips muffling your sweet moans.

His cock throbs as he patiently waits for you to adjust to his girth. Your hips ache, already feeling the pressure of your current activities take it’s toll on your body. Your minds begins to flood with need, processing just how close izuku is, how his muscles feel under your finger tips, how he reacts when you experiment with tightening your smooth walls around him. He waits for you to move, slightly wiggling your hips, before he gives into the feeling, whimpering and keeping a steady pace.

You feel his tip brush against your sweet spot with every thrust, unraveling quicker then you would have liked. Izuku’s blush reaches onto his chest as you moan into his ear, teasing him. He speeds up, ramming into your sweet spot, causing that knot in your stomach to tighten before he shifts to rub at your clit sloppily, letting out lewd noises and tipping you over the edge. Your body freezes, a shaking gasp falling from your lips as you arch your back and your walls flutter and tighten around izuku’s dick. He’s soon to follow, spilling his load over your soft stomach before slowly pulling out and flopping onto his bed besides you.

“That’s one great way to start a shitty trip.” You laugh looking over into his forest eyes. Izuku grabs your hand, kissing your palm and giving you a small smile. “Or just a wonderful way to start a potentially amazing trip. You promised you’d let me spoil you this time, so let me use my money to give you comfort. Ok?” You nod, adjusting your seat to be upright again, and lean over to the champagne. The view out the window is something of beauty as the clouds fold into each other and the sky casts a pink, soft hue onto the white canvas.

Izuku grabs himself a glass, leaning his seat all the way back and putting a complementary eye mask on.

“And besides, the more money we pay, the less people will care where we fuck each other.” He was born into this life, born for it. He was used to this and could be for the rest of his full life.

But izuku would do anything just to be by your side. That’s one thing he can’t pay for.

#izuku midoriya x reader #plus size reader #izuku midoriya x plus size reader #plus size!reader #izuku midoriya #mha x reader #mha x chubby reader #bnha imagines #smut #fluff

[bubblegumbeech]

Homemade

Day 2 Dannymay: Home

Clockwork made cookies, they were a special blend he’d invented through countless trial and error to get just right. For a ghost, they'd have enough concentrated ectoplasm to provide energy and enough positive emotion to make them enjoyable, and for a human child, he focused on getting the right flavors and physical ingredients to make them actually edible.

 He set the plate down in front of Danny. The young half-ghost had been working really hard at his homework lately and Clockwork wanted to do something small to reward him for it.

 “Are- did you make cookies?” Danny asked, looking up at him in confusion.

 Clockwork smiled and gently ruffled his hair. “Will you tell me how they taste?”

 Most ghosts lost the ability to taste early on, along with their sense of smell. Clockwork never had either though, only had glimpses into different futures with different recipes and Danny’s own reactions to them.

 “Please tell me this isn’t the first time you’ve made cookies…” Danny made a face, uncertain.

 Clockwork rolled his eyes and grabbed the plate again, “you don’t have to eat them-“

 “I’ll eat them!” Danny grabbed the plate from Clockwork’s hands, a splash of green decorating his cheeks and forming a stark contrast against his starlit freckles.

 Braced as if for impact, Danny quickly shoved one of the still warm cookies into his mouth and began to chew. Slowly his features softened into enjoyment and Clockwork got to watch as he grabbed another and then another until the entire plate was clean.

 He was glowing slightly, the oven-baked ectoplasm doing wonders for his energy levels. Existing so long on ambient ectoplasm alone wouldn’t have been nearly enough for a young ghost like Danny, so it was nice to see him properly fed for once.

 “Clockwork, these are amazing! How did you make them?” Danny asked, his eyes shining slightly.

 “That’s a secret,” Clockwork lied. He didn’t want to admit it took him over a thousand tries to actually make something edible to a human pallet, and he had enough of a mysterious air about him that he’d get away with it.

 Danny didn’t seem to mind though, he just grabbed the plate and flew over to the kitchen so he could wash it. “Okay, what do I have to bribe you with to get those again?”

 Clockwork’s core hummed in satisfaction, it was almost a primal instinct to care for one’s child and it was always nice to be appreciated. “Finished homework would be a nice start.”

 Danny scoffed, a small smile on his face. “I think you need to lower your standards. I mean, I’m passing history now right?” The single dish was cleaned, dried, and put away in less than a moment.

 “Thank you Daniel,” Clockwork said. Danny didn’t get nearly enough appreciation from those around him, it never hurt to give him a little when he could.

 A light green blush built on Danny’s cheeks and he looked away in an attempt to hide his reaction. “Yeah well, you make cookies like that again and I’ll clean your whole clock tower.”

 Clockwork smirked, lifting an eyebrow. “The infinite spirals of my clock tower and the unending trails of time that exist ever moving inside of it would certainly appreciate a touch up.”

 Danny balked, “uh… maybe I can do a room at a time?”

 “You don’t have to clean anything for cookies Daniel. I’d rather you eat than not.”

 Relieved, Danny rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled. “Thanks Clockwork.” He sighed and dropped his hand, looking over at the window to the realms outside. “Ugh, I don’t wanna go to school tomorrow.”

 There wasn’t much to say, so Clockwork didn’t. He didn’t particularly care about Danny’s academics or whether or not he succeeded in school, but he knew intimately how much it mattered to Danny. It was tied to his two obsessions after all.

   He had to go to school so he could both make his family happy and be there to protect the other students, he had to succeed if he ever wanted to fulfill his dreams of working at NASA, the human space program. At the thought of absolute failure he would stress, shut down, and grow apart from those close to him. It would put strain on his obsessions and could lead to internal core damage. It was better for now, that Clockwork simply gave him time and the chance to try and keep up.

 “You’re always welcome to visit if you need more time,” he offered.

 “I know. I’ve uh, still got homework to finish…”

 “By all means.” Clockwork followed Danny out of the kitchen and watched as he sat back down to finish his homework, content with the healthy glow the cookies gave Danny.

 He turned back to his own work and watched for anything that didn’t fit or was causing trouble, but his mind was on the next recipe he wanted to try.

       The next recipe ended up being a casserole.

 Cliche to be sure, but decidedly more filling and sufficient than just a plate of cookies, and this time when Clockwork set it down in front of his young ward he was met with more enthusiasm than suspicion. Despite the bright pink color and the more… mobile parts of the dish. It was difficult to make something that met all the necessary requirements to properly nourish a halfa      and     have it look appealing so Clockwork had hardly tried.

 Danny dug in.

 “This is the most amazing casserole I’ve ever had in my life and that includes any and all ecto-contaminated food I’ve ever snuck out of the fridge without my parents noticing how did you do that?” Danny asked, shoveling another forkful into his mouth.

 Clockwork purred at the praise, and was glad to see Danny’s glow get even brighter. It was so pale before, barely even there in a way it never should have been with Danny’s obsession and power. “I suppose the difference would be that I was doing it intentionally.”

 Danny nodded. “Makes sense.” He took a moment to pause from devouring his food to look up over at Clockwork sitting across the table from him. “Are you going to eat anything?”

 How thoughtful. He should have probably prepared for that but, well. “I’m afraid trying to eat something with that much physical matter from the human world would go poorly for me. If you’re uncomfortable I can make some tea?”

 “Oh,” Danny looked at his half finished meal, realizing something and unable to react properly to it. “Yeah, tea sounds nice, can I have some too?”

 “Of course,” Clockwork agreed easily. He would be using a delicate mixture of herbs and spices from different parts of the infinite realms that Sojourn liked to gift him whenever he bothered to visit. None of them should have any adverse effects on the boy, and if he chose the right mixture, it might actually help him to calm down slightly.

 By the time the tea was finished and cooled enough to drink, Danny had finished his meal and cleaned up so that the two could sit and enjoy their tea together.

 Danny spent a moment too long staring into his cup, the swirling neon blue of the forgoent leaves—a small blue plant native to some of the darker forest realms, similar to the mortal realm’s forget-me-nots. Clockwork didn’t know what he was thinking, couldn’t see a timeline where he actually spoke his thoughts out loud. He sighed and took a drink of his own cup, the tea’s soothing blend serving to take off the slight edge of his anxiety. It was difficult caring for a child, even with his power.

 “Thanks for the tea Clockwork,” Danny said, “and uh, the casserole too.”

 His voice was quiet, but sincere and Clockwork accepted his thanks with a small nod of his head. The rest of the evening went on like that, mostly silent but not unpleasant in each other's company. When Danny left to go back to the mortal realm he paused at the clock tower’s door and quickly turned back to Clockwork, pulling him into a quick, tight hug that had him almost freezing time instinctually before Danny pulled away and quickly flew off.

 Clockwork stayed there, floating in the entryway to his lair and felt his core practically screaming at him in delight.

 He needed a way to distract himself, maybe he could start working on another recipe?

     Pie was unnecessarily difficult, Clockwork decided, despite its place as the most popular fairy-tale dish ever mentioned. He’d made no less than three thousand six hundred and four different variations of the damned recipe and not a single one had even stayed together, much less been even remotely edible.

 He sighed. At this rate, even freezing time wouldn’t help him accomplish this before Danny arrived. He was admittedly impatient for an immortal entity with all of time under his control, and he wanted to actually be able to spend time with his ward rather than an eternity trying, and failing, to bake something.

 Which is exactly how Danny had caught him taking a failed experiment out of the oven, having arrived while Clockwork was distracted.

 “Is that a pie?” he asked, excitedly reaching for it.

 Clockwork quickly held it out of the young halfa’s reach, unwilling to allow him near his utter failure.

 Danny blinked, his face drooping into an exaggerated pout, “I can’t have some?” Clockwork felt his core ache a little. Maybe he should have stopped time until he got it right?

 “It’s not fit for consumption at the moment,” he said, carefully floating it out of reach and towards the end of the counter. He didn’t have anything resembling a human trash can, it was uncomfortable to keep waste in one’s lair afterall, so he’d have to leave it on the counter for now. He could dispose of it properly later, maybe as fertilizer for his garden.

 “Oh don’t be like that,” Danny said, floating around Clockwork and completely ignoring his very valid warning. “I’m sure it’s fine, everything else you’ve made has been delicious.”

 Well yes, everything else he’d made had been very much intended to be delicious. This one was a failure. However, Clockwork wasn’t going to admit to the amount of effort that had gone into each and every piece of food he’d made for his young ward. It would be uncomfortable at best for Danny and horridly embarrassing for Clockwork.

 “I’ll make another one for next time, please-” Clockwork didn’t even finish his sentence before Danny was grabbing a piece of the crust and shoving it into his mouth. “Daniel!”

 Danny smiled. “Yeah okay not your best work, but it’s edible for sure.” He grabbed another piece and ate that as well and Clockwork didn’t really know what to do. On one hand, he was right: it was certainly edible, there would be no adverse effects caused by Danny eating the food, and it would be just as nourishing as the other meals Clockwork provided. But on the other hand, it could not have tasted pleasant. All of the futures where he tried serving this to Danny as normal were met with disappointment at best.

 So why was he content to eat it like this?

 “I knew you couldn’t be perfect,” Danny snickered. He grabbed a fork and a plate from their places in the kitchen and then floated over to the table, pie-adjacent pastry in hand. “Are you gonna make tea again?”

 “Yes,” Clockwork answered, glaring at the pie. The horrid pie that Danny was eating because not every single meal needed to be perfect and Clockwork, as always, had been over-complicating everything.

 The atmosphere at the table was soft and comfortable. It was certainly something Clockwork was unused to, enjoying company for company’s sake. And to think they wouldn’t be here as they were, had Clockwork succeeded fully with his task. It brings up a question, actually thousands of different, related, questions, about failure and success and the weight of either.

 Danny smiled at him from over the half eaten pie. Clockwork smiled back.

 An alarm went off and Danny shoved one last bite into his mouth before flying off towards the main room of the clocktower. “Shoot, I forgot I promised Jazz to let her help with my english homework.”

 There was a flurry of papers while Danny tried to gather all of his things. Pencils shoved precariously into his bag and folders of half finished homework assignments quickly followed. The half finished pie on the kitchen table was completely ignored, as it should have been to start with.

 “You seem to be in a rush,” Clockwork said, watching amusedly. Either Danny had forgotten Clockwork’s particular powerset in his haste, or he hadn’t thought to ask for a medallion. Either way Clockwork found it too amusing to offer his aide unless Danny thought to ask.

 “Yeah, yeah,” Danny tried to say over the strap of the backpack he held in his mouth in lieu of his busy hands. “I’ll be back home s-”

 Danny blushed and stuttered out something awkward and intended to drag attention away from the slip of his tongue. But Clockwork just smiled, watching the boy finally gather his things and quickly make his exit promising to come back tomorrow for dinner.

 Wasn’t there a human saying about home and food?

#dannymay2021 #Danny phantom #Clockwork #Lost time #danny fenton #Bee's writing

[slashbitch2]

The Very Nosy Neighbour

this fic was 100% inspired by this one here , but I mean it practically wrote itself I couldn't resist

NSFW

You can't remember much past waking up in an unfamiliar room- though 'room' is really a sugarcoated description, as in reality it qualifies more as some kind of cavern. You're sitting in a chair, ankles and wrists bound by an indistinguishable material. Whatever the binds are made of feels strong, so any attempts to struggle against it are futile. Yet, in spite of what really should be an extremely stressful situation, you find yourself completely relaxed. You briefly wonder whether you've been drugged, but with every sense feeling fully operational, that theory is soon dismissed.

Instead of choosing a more logical response to the circumstances you've found yourself in, you decided to focus more on your surroundings: not to form any resemblance of an escape plan, but simply out of curiosity. Although, the investigation is equally as ineffective. You're unable to name anything around you except for stone walls, strange (glowing?) vines and weird symbols carved above a few archways. Everything beyond that is either entirely lost to you, or shrouded in darkness.

With little else to do, you start to think back on the events that led you there, trying to glean any useful information from the blurry memories. The clearest image, therefore the most recent, is the smirking face of a woman, Agnes you realise. Though the malicious glint in her eyes doesn't quite match your perception of the nosy neighbour. But where is she now? Is she also in danger? You may not have known Agnes for very long, but are reluctant to let any harm come to her regardless.

With a clearer head, you consider calling for help, but a small voice at the back of your subconscious warns you against this. And the voice sounds smart, so you elect to listen to it. But what should you do instead? Where did this voice come from? And most importantly, should you trust it? Luckily, you aren't given much time to overthink the decision.

While trying to tune into this voice, footsteps echo in the distance, gradually drawing nearer. You hold your breath as the sound suddenly stops, leaving your eyes scanning the vicinity for any movement. The unpleasant reality dawns on you all too quickly: the footsteps were approaching from behind you.

“Well, well, well.” Someone says playfully, then snorts as they start walking closer. "Sorry to be a total cliché. I couldn't resist." It's Agnes. She narrows her eyes and smirks, folding her arms as she examines your constrained form. Subjected to her scrutiny, you find yourself swallowing, but your throat is too dry. Other small discomforts also become noticeable; your cramped limbs, aching back and the bruises on your hands. Well at least you put up a fight. The more rational part of you, however, realises that your hands are no longer bound. You stare down at them, flexing each finger as if checking they were all still fully functional.

Something suddenly knocks into your head and you grimace. Left reeling from the impact, you realise that you're slightly nauseated. Though not enough to stop you from reaching out to grasp the floating cup of water. The fact that the glass is suspended in mid-air doesn't go unnoticed, rather ignored, since there's too much happening simultaneously to comprehend any of it in sufficient detail. You swirl the liquid round, hesitant to drink, unwilling to trust your captor's apparent mercy.

"Drink up, dear." Agnes drags a chair forward, which seems to have just appeared out of thin air. She sits backwards on it, legs spread and arms resting on the back casually. "That's all you're getting until we're done here." The tone of her voice is both threatening and teasing. You're reluctant to admit it's quite a turn on.

One glance up at her prying expression and you relent, downing the chilled water way too quickly. Though you aren't given a chance to mourn your impatience, as with an effortless wave of her hand, Agnes refills the glass. While you sip at the water, she refuses to tear her eyes away from you for even a second. It's slightly disconcerting.

“Now," She claps her hands, startling you. "I assume you know why you’re here?”

“Not really.” You confess, unable to pinpoint why anyone would go to so much effort to kidnap you, especially Agnes, who up to this point had been an eccentric yet kind neighbour.

She sighs, more for show than anything else, and rubs at her temple. "Come on Y/N, let's not play dumb now."

Embarrassingly, a heat begins to pool deep in your gut, but you quickly dismiss the unwarranted lust. "I don't know what you mean."

"Oh really?" She quirks an eyebrow, sitting upright. "You really have no idea?" The inquiry is ridiculing, and you can see that your naivety is starting to annoy her.

All you can do is shake your head and pray the sincerity is reflected in your eyes.

"Okay." She slams her hands down on her thighs. "I guess we'll have to go about this the hard way then, toots." A sharp gesture and your hands are bound before you once again.

By the time you're looking up, she's striding toward you with purpose, which does nothing to ease the building heat between your legs. Her hands clasp on the armrests either side, essentially trapping you, not like escape would've been possible without the extra precaution. Up close you finally recognize this isn't Agnes- in fact it never has been. There's a feral yet wise appearance to her, the facade of nosy neighbour dissolved in an instance to be replaced by a deranged, frighteningly powerful woman (or witch, you're undecided).

Despite your better judgement, you're unable to stop yourself from asking. "Who are you?" Your voice barely breaches a whisper, but she's standing close enough that nothing less intimate is required.

She looks mildly impressed, the corner of her mouth twitching almost indiscernibly. "Agatha Harkness." She extends a hand, smirking upon realisation that you're a little too tied up at the minute to reciprocate. "Lovely to meet you."

You swallow again, finding your throat to be a little less dry. "Likewise." Then decide to take another risk. "So what do you want from me?"

“Wanda's true identity.” She replies so quickly that you almost miss it, looking at you with an eagerly expectant expression.

Agatha's question confuses you further. “I don’t know what you mean.” Although your answer is honest, something at the back of your mind hisses lies.

"There's no need to lie here." Her patient humour had disappeared. "Trust me, no one will hear you, so drop the act."

For some unbeknown reason, her accusation angers you. "I'm not putting on an act, I don't know why I'm here or what you want from me." The bravery dissipates all of a sudden as you remember that you're not exactly in the position to command such authority. "Please, stop this."

Agatha purses her lips, stands up and turns away from you. She calmly moves forwards a few paces, and in the short amount of time you manage to convince yourself that she's given up. Until in a completely unprovoked move, she swings her hands to the left, sending her chair crashing into the wall in frustration. Whether this is part of her interrogation performance or not, it works. Your heart starts racing, and confusingly, the awkward heat between your legs pulses.

She runs a hand through her hair, still facing away from you. "Don't make this any harder harder than it needs to be." You can practically hear her grinding her teeth, but don't doubt that she was getting some enjoyment out of the situation.

"I can tell you that Wanda is my sister and only real family, that I moved to Westview with her and that I couldn't live without her." You start listing off some basic facts, desperate to prove to Agatha that nothing is hidden. That you're normal.

"What about your brother?" She swivels round, clicking her fingers as she tries to recall something. "Pietro!" She exclaims.

"Pietro..." You falter. Why does the name sound so familiar? The nausea worsens. You shake off the feeling. "Never heard of him."

“Liar.” In one swift movement, Agatha is right by your ear. The feeling of her lips brushing against your skin causes you to close your eyes. The close proximity was becoming overwhelming, and your body had chosen to react in a rather unfortunate way. Admittedly, you'd always had a thing for Agnes, but Agatha was on a whole other level. You dreaded to open your eyes, worried that she'd noticed your current state. Instead, you internally begged for mercy.

“Don't go all shy on me now.” She pushes your shoulder into the chair, compelling you to open your eyes. "If you don't want to talk, I have other methods." Her hand raises, a purple flow emanating from the tips of her fingers. It crackles and sparks, as if the power was barely contained, yet as she shifts closer to brush the hair out of your face, you don't flinch. One finger remained touching your forehead, then traced down to your jaw, and finally along to grasp your chin.

While the vaguely sinister movement terrified you, it also forced you hold your breath and grip onto the armrests for dear life. Why you'd decided this was hot was beyond you considering the many connotations of her words, yet your thighs pressed tighter together as she drew closer. You attempted to turn your head to the side, longing for distraction, but her hold on you kept your head still.

"This won't be much fun for you, dear." She sighed in mock pity, her breath hot against your skin... Which just tipped you over the edge. As hard as you tried to stifle the noise, a broken moan escaped your lips. You'd definitely hit a low point here. Too ashamed to face your apparent arousal, you screwed your eyes shut. Although, at Agatha's silence, you relented and opened them barely a minute later.

To your relief, or perhaps dismay, the woman was grinning like a maniac. Her eyes flickered down to your parted lips as she chewed on her own. Then carefully, as if she were testing the waters, her fingers began to rub against your jaw, and upwards to your mouth. Your breath deceives you by hitching as her thumb slips between your lips, stroking your tongue. At the contact, you can't help but arch into the touch. Agatha chuckles.

"I take it back." She murmurs, removing her hand. "This will be fun." Although the intimidation factor prevails, there's a certain desire mirrored in Agatha's expression which cancels out any remaining common sense. Your entire body felt like it was on fire, and even if you wanted to, there was little you could do to stop her. So, you give into your yearning, sighing as she climbs to sit on your lap. Immediately, her hand switches to gripping the back of your neck as she slams her mouth onto yours. You willingly indulge by opening further, allowing her tongue to slide between your lips. Her other hand lowers to grab at your chest, like she were trying to tug herself impossibly closer.

Without removing her lips, the hand massaging your chest shifts to your thigh. She still keeps her lips firmly pressed to yours, and with the lack of oxygen, you can feel yourself growing lightheaded. It almost feels like a challenge, one which you're determined to succeed at. Though when she eventually does break away, her hand suddenly slips between your thighs, and your breath is stolen from you once more. Wasting no time, she massages you through your clothes, dragging out an inevitable whine. The touch is both too much, and not enough. But judging by her malevolent smirk, that was exactly her intention.

Even though you were currently incapable of producing any reasonable thought, you still noticed that Agatha wasn't entirely unaffected. Her breathing was laboured, hips occasionally jerking against your thigh and eyes struggling to stay open. The influence you were having on her only encouraged you to moan louder, craving to see her equally dishevelled. Your plan seemed to momentarily fail as her hand retreated. But you'd certainly earned her attention.

She licks her lips, then abruptly changes her expression to look disturbingly like that of Agnes. "You wouldn't leave me out of the fun now, would you dear?" Her voice is high pitched as she basically sings her words. Although the question must've been rhetorical as doesn't await a response, instead you find your hands unbound, flung behind your back and bound together all in a matter of seconds. Then, she shifted her position, yanking your bodies closer so that your crotches were pressed together. She grunts, heaving forward to rest against you for a moment and regain her composure. And finally, without warning, starts to grind your hips together.

It doesn't take long for her movement to become more frantic, accompanied by her hair spilling onto her face. She remains impressively quiet, however, or perhaps you were just comparably loud. With the little pride you have left, you decide to take matters into your own hands, and start meeting each thrust with equal vigour. Miraculously, it works. She throws her head back with a remarkably loud moan, proceeded by change in strategy as she starts almost bouncing on top of you, hips losing their rhythm, pleasure overwhelming her. Startled by her lack of self-control, the heat in your stomach begins building exponentially fast. Your eyes slam shut.

A hand grasps onto your face. “Look at me!” She growls, then emphasises her demand by rolling her hips torturously slowly. The movement ceases. She leans her forehead against yours, staring directly into your eyes. “Come with me.” To your surprise, there's an audible plea in her voice.

At a loss for words, you nod. The pleasure had been building for so long that you knew it'd only take a few more grinds to push you over the edge. With your confirmation, Agatha resumes her thrusting, though soon succumbs, throwing her head back and uttering an exceptionally loud, high-pitched moan. She arches her back, pressing herself so far into you that the pleasure peaks. You groan, lurching backwards in a moment of pure bliss. All you can feel is Agatha, all you can think about is Agatha. Coming down from the high, you sigh and collapse forward to bury your face in the crook of her neck.

She tenses slightly at the contact, but soon relaxes into the strange embrace. You gently press your lips against her skin and feel her shiver, confirming your suspicion that it'd been a while since Agatha had received such affection. Motivated by a new, more innocent desire, you continue to pepper light kisses across her throat and behind her ear, simply enjoying the unexpectedly intimate moment.

Agatha finally breaks the silence, leaning away from your touch to look down at you curiously. "Wanda really has you under her mind control too, huh?"

Although still stuck in a post-coital haze, you muster enough brainpower to consider her words. "Mind control?"

"Oh, right." She smirks, a slight sadness perceptible in her eyes. "Forgot to mention." Before you can say anything, she swings one leg to the side, stiffly sliding off your lap and clasping her hands together. "You might want to reconsider where your loyalties lie, dear." She glances at you, then ambles to the opposite side of the room. "That's one fucked up family situation right there." Her voice teasingly calls out.

You feel yourself flush, strangely offended by her comment, and annoyed by her vagueness. "Like you can talk." Your response is a total shot in the dark, but must've hit a nerve since she slowly turns back to you, a suspicious expression upon her face. "Just a guess." You add, unwilling to know the details of whatever sensitive topic you'd just touched upon. Agatha easily shrugs it off, leaving behind a stifling silence. Eventually, it's a mixture of your own boredom and concern that prompts you to end the lull in conversation. "Are you still planning on interrogating me about something I know nothing about?"

"Oh, no I read your mind." She waves a dismissive hand over her shoulder. "Got all I needed."

Again, you're left suffocating in the confusion her ambiguity provokes, with nothing else to ask except. "How...?"

The inquiry must've been exactly what Agatha wanted to hear as she immediately dropped what she was doing to turn around and lean on the wall, arms folded in a casually smug pose. "Sex leaves you vulnerable." She smirked. "All I did was take advantage of the opportunity- but I'll spare you the boring details." With a flourish of her hand and a flash of purple, the binds holding your ankles and wrists disappeared. "You can go now. First door on the left."

Without sparing you another glance, she busied herself with some witchy task, allowing you to see yourself out. Massaging your wrists, you stood slowly, watching her expectantly. Surely she wouldn't just let you leave? Yet as you sauntered over to the door she'd directed you to, she made no move to stop you. "Bye then?"

Agatha looked up at you and winked. "See you around, neighbour."

#agatha harkness x reader #agnes x reader #agatha harkness

[pascalpanic]

Mirdal’ika (Din Djarin x f!Reader)

Summary: Reader takes care of the Razor Crest and the child while Mando is out hunting. When Mando doesn’t return when he’s supposed to, the book-smart reader has to learn some street smarts and help her Mandalorian.

WC: 4.6k

Warnings: violence, cussing, mentions of blood

A/N: Okay, I’m a nerd, a certified nerd as if that wasn’t clear. This is my love letter to the nerds out there, to the ones who had their first kiss a little late, who stayed in and read books rather than partying. I love you, you’re cool. Italics are for emphasis and internal dialogue, but in some places also to show that another language is being spoken. Hopefully that’s clear! Oh, also: mirdal’ika is a word of my own creation. No Mando’a word exists for “nerd” that I could find, so this is my interpretation of the language using my best etymological skills!

mirdala= intelligent, clever -’ika = suffix meaning small or little mirdal’ika = intelligent little one; Mando’a slang meaning nerd.

Growing up, you were the kid who had her nose buried in a book at all times. You rarely interacted with the outside world. While the other children on Tatooine made sandcastles or played games, drawing in the sand, you read encyclopedias and fact books, learning about the other planets in your systems and other cultures. Your fixation at age 12 had been on Mandalorian culture, fascinated by the warriors that were like faraway, mythical knights to your young self. As a child enraptured by fairy tales and stories of intergalactic heroes like Luke Skywalker and Leia Organa, you’d somehow always been enchanted by the bad-boy type, the dark and mysterious man who reluctantly saves the day, more along the lines of Han Solo. Naturally, the fact that Mandalorians never showed their face was mysterious, and you’d admit that you dreamed of being swept away by the Mand’alor and having the privilege of being the sole person to see their face, of being a queen and finding true love. You later moved on to research other cultures, even teaching yourself various galactic languages should you ever get the chance to travel. That didn’t seem likely, growing up on a planet where the only claim to fame was Luke Skywalker’s brief residence a few towns over. Your knowledge of Mandalorian culture was part of what made you so special to Mando, your employer-friend-coworker-roommate-co-parent whose name you had yet to learn. You never asked questions of him. Never asked him to take off his helmet, never asked him what was under it, never asked anything too personal, understood that the helmet could only come off in front of members of his clan. You’d cut him off and finish a sentence when he’d explain something of his customs to you, stunning him with your knowledge. He liked it, and by association he liked you. You had bore much of your life story to him, and he gladly would’ve given you some of his. He had come to like you, to trust you even, but you never asked. For fear you wouldn’t want to hear it, he held back. You even spoke Mando’a, though he didn’t know that. It always brought a smirk to your face as he’d turn his back after calling you some sweet words in his native tongue, thinking you’d be oblivious. It shocked you at first; you didn’t expect such a stoic and silent man to be so openly flirtatious, but after a while it most certainly grew on you. You would tease him equally in another tongue, calling him handsome or dashing in Pak Pak or Bothese. It was fun, the way he’d try to guess what you were saying, usually assuming it meant something negative.

With your vast knowledge of languages, you’d both expected that you would be able to interpret the words of Mando’s adopted son, that his babbling would be easily deciphered into some species’ tongue. Eventually you realized that he wasn’t speaking a language yet, simply regurgitating syllables like any child would. He was a baby, after all. You set out to make it your mission to teach the child languages when Mando was away, and he had begun to identify the meaning of words, even if he couldn’t say them himself. He could identify body parts on himself, you by your name, and Mando by his; well, the name you called him, which you knew wasn’t his real name. Mando had taken you on as a crewmate for the Razor Crest a few months ago now, and you still knew next to nothing about the beskar-clad warrior. He was a forward man, so you assumed he would tell you things when he was ready. That’s about all you knew: he was a man, and he was a Mandalorian. He wanted to tell you everything, especially the fact that he had been enchanted by your intelligence and wit since the first time he met you, stopping on Tatooine for a bounty and encountering you when he asked a fellow villager who the most knowledgeable person around was. The tiny green thing he held was a menace, and you cared for him while the Mandalorian man went and hunted his bounty. The child was hesitant to leave you, getting attached after a quick few days of staying in your hut, and the man had decided you could be valuable. Just before he walked through the door, he turned and offered you a job. You were shy when you accepted, and had nursed a crush the whole time you two had traveled together. You couldn’t believe the situation, just like in those trashy novels you’d read when you were interested in his culture. Now that you lived with him and the tiny green thing, you stayed aboard his ship while he hunted and cared for the kid, cleaned, fixed up the piece of junk, and generally ran the almost-household. It was enjoyable; you liked the man, especially once you came to find his sense of humor similar to your own, and you absolutely adored the child in your care. Your little ragtag crew fell into a rhythm after the first month or so: Mando would leave on a hunt for a few days. While he was gone, you’d play with the baby, feed him and care for him. You washed the blood and dirt from the man’s clothing and the child’s bile from the clothing belonging to you and the baby, taught the child new words, and generally… well, raised him. The baby felt like your child when you two were alone, but when the Mandalorian came home, he was the only thing visible in that child’s round black eyes. It was all about him, sitting in his lap, babbling incoherent words to him, playing with him. Luckily for you, the Mandalorian is on a hunt. You and the child sit in the bed compartment; you lie on the mattress and the child rests in his mesh hammock above the entry. At the last port, you picked up as many books as possible to entertain both you and the child. He loved listening to your voice, and so you happily read aloud to him as you rest together. The Mandalorian should be home tonight, you figured, since he told you that this was a rather easy bounty and that it should take him no more than 3 days. It’s now a couple hours after the third day, but you’re sure it’s fine. The child’s eyes droop closed as you read to him, flawlessly translating the book from the Pak Pak it was written in. The Basic words pour from your mouth, and the little thing gives a gentle yawn before curling up with his favorite blanket and silver ball and passing out. Looking up, you laugh at the sight softly and transition to reading in your head. Not long after the kid falls asleep, you follow. It was unintentional, but reading soothes you, and the perfectly cozy bed that smells like Mando draws you in further and further until sleep washes over your body. You hug one pillow to your chest as you sleep, imagining it was the man’s body you cuddled up against. - Mando is 24 hours late. You’ve been pacing in the ship since you realized it’s officially a day later than he said he’d be back. Dammit, you’re going to find that man. You’re not unaccustomed to violence, having been in scuffles as a child and teen, fighting off Jawas or unsavory men in Tatooine cantinas. You need to track him down and find him. First, you go up to the cockpit and look at the comm watch he gave you. It has a two-way tracking device; one for him to find you, and one for you to find him. Mando has the technology to see where you are built into his vambrace. You, however, have nothing. After searching the cockpit, you find and crack open a tracking fob he used in the past. You open the back of the comm watch, finding the bit with the tracker and wire it to the fob. As you connect two wires, the fob suddenly blinks with light. Laughing at the fact that you made it work, you relax a little. Now you can track the Mandalorian man down. After slipping the fob into a pocket of your pants, you scoot back down the ladder and to the cargo hold’s back wall: Mando’s arsenal. You can do this, you tell yourself, and dare to open Mando’s personal armory built into the wall. You strap a holster to your thigh, adding a vibroblade there. A belt with two guns rests on your hips. An ammo belt drapes across your chest, settling between your breasts and pulling your black tank top tight, the back of the leather sash holding Mando’s backup pulse rifle. You take a look in the mirror of the refresher, and you have to admit that you look badass. Weapons and homemade tracker at the ready, you set out to find him. You leave the baby with a trustworthy woman at the hangar, one who has babysat him before for Mando, then enter the bustling city. - Following the blinking and beeping of the fob, you find your way to the opposite end of the city, to a building located near the outskirts. It’s run down and looks abandoned. It makes perfect sense that someone would hide here. As you approach, the beeping of the fob encourages you; the Mandalorian is definitely here. You disable the sound on the fob and slip it in your pocket, grabbing one of the blasters from your hip. As you approach, the building is silent. The roar of the city is quiet but present, and you slip through an open doorway quietly. You scan the rooms, blaster held in front of you and ready to shoot. You take inventory of the first floor and find nothing. The staircase looks terribly old, and you wince as you take your first step onto it and it makes a noise. Now or never, you tell yourself and quickly run up the steps, knowing the noise can’t be avoided, so you’d better make it quick. You reach the top of the steps, pulling out your other blaster, and find a male Twi’lek standing over  a pile of silver and black on the floor. Mando. He’s most definitely unconscious, maybe even- no, he can’t be dead, you can see his slow breathing and the way it makes his body rise and fall. “Fuck,” you say out loud, and the Twi’lek turns towards you. The man is large, much larger than you. He’s overweight and dressed in combat clothes, his face battered and bloody. Your heart sinks as you realize this man is the bounty Mando was going for. You need to start thinking on your feet, and quickly. The man starts to move toward you and you hold out both blasters. “Easy there, nerra,” you tell him in Twi’leki, calling him ‘brother’ to attempt to put him at ease. It doesn’t have the effect that you hoped. “Why are you here?” he asks back, also in Twi’leki, reaching for his weapon. “Don’t draw,” you threaten and inch closer. He was a bail jumper, Mando had informed you before he left, but not for a petty charge; he had escaped in order to avoid several charges of murder. He was a former bounty hunter, who Mando had encountered once. The idea strikes you. “I’m here for him,” you say and nod to the lump of beskar behind the man on the ground. “There’s a bounty on his head. I… heard whoever turns him in gets to keep the beskar too,” you say, raising an eyebrow as you look at him. “You going for him too?” The Twi’lek man shakes his head. “No. He was coming for me. Thought he could beat me.” You seize this opportunity. “From what you look like, I don’t think anyone could. This one is worth a lot of credits. Enough to run away to a pleasure planet… twice over,” you say, inching closer. Mando makes a soft groan and it breaks your heart as he gains consciousness. He must notice you; he starts to moan out words, but you know he can’t speak or he’ll expose you both. “Silence, Mandalorian,” you say again in Basic, words holding acid. “Twice over… let’s bring him in together. Find some wonderful planet to share that bounty on…” you offer, raising an eyebrow and slowly creeping closer to the man. “What’s your name?” You ask. He tells you his and you tell him yours, then give him a seductive smile. The man’s face falls into a smirk. You put both blasters in your belt once more and his posture relaxes fully. “Sounds wonderful to me, beautiful.” “Wow. For a jaded bounty hunter, you’re more foolish than one could ever believe.” Before the man can process your words, you’ve slung the pulse rifle over your shoulder and pull it into position. You shoot a pulse and it finds its target in his chest. He groans in agony and falls backwards, directly on top of Mando. Wincing for the man beneath the hulking Twi’lek, you grab a blaster, shooting the man in each leg. “Mando, hey, it’s me,” you tell him as you roll the behemoth from on top of him. “I’m here,” you murmur. He starts mumbling back, but it’s in Mando’a. That makes sense, you suppose, that he’s reverting in such a moment of crisis. “How hurt are you?” you ask, beginning to speak Mando’a to him in hopes he’ll understand you better. Mando’s brain works through the fog, hearing your words and recognizing that it’s you. “Real bad,” he groans out, speaking his native tongue. You touch his elbow, unprotected by beskar, and he whines. “No, no,” he whimpers, sounding almost like a child. You sigh. This was going to be harder than you expected. “Fuck, how am I going to get you out of here?” The brain function that the Mandalorian has left is your saving grace. “Speeder bike. Hidden down there. We can get on.” “Yes, but how are we going to get you downstairs?” He doesn’t respond, simply groans in pain. If this was going to work without immense pain on his part, some kind of miracle was going to need to happen. “I’m going to drag you down the stairs as carefully as I can, okay? We’ll let gravity do the work. Do you have a good arm?” “The left one… so clever, so smart, pretty girl,” he breathes out, words rasping. You blush at the words but chuckle. He’s in so much pain there’s no way he can think straight now. “I’ll go get the bike, then we’ll get you down there.” This is the hard part, you think to yourself. First, you run down the steps and search for the speeder bike Mando mentioned. You find it and sigh in relief. It’s a piece of junk, but it should do. You position it at the bottom of the stairs and then run up them again. “Okay, this is going to hurt. Can you roll yourself?” “No, shoulder’s all fucked up,” he mumbles and you groan. “Well, I’ll have to drag you on the good one. Get ready.” Taking his good arm, you begin dragging him towards the steps. He groans and you wince. “I’m so sorry, you’re doing so well,” you tell him as you move him. “Here we go.” Once he’s at the top of the steps, you hold him under his armpits, blushing at how close you are. He’s so strong, even injured, and you smile softly to yourself. You lower the two of you down the stairs with careful movements and manage to hold him long enough to get him seated on the speeder bike. He leans forward onto the handles. “One moment,” you tell him. Running up the stairs once more, you shoot another pulse into the bounty. He gives a dazed nod, clearly not understanding anything through the pain he’s in. You can’t let Mando leave this man behind. You’re sure he’s unconscious, so you repeat the same movements as before but with next to no gentleness. You toss him on the back of the speeder bike, where the gunner would sit, and tie him down with ropes before covering him with a blanket. “Alright, back to the ship as quick as we possibly can,” you inform Mando and get the speeder to a door wide enough to fit it through. Once it works, you hop on between Mando and the handlebar and start it up, moving as quickly as you possibly can. Soon enough, you’re back at the hangar that holds the Razor Crest. You enter the back way, using the speeder bike entrance. You hop off quickly and park it by the Crest. “Stay right there, I’m going to get this asshole into the carbonite,” you tell Mando. His consciousness hasn’t been clear for at least a day. He didn’t even process the fact that you had grabbed the bounty. “What? You got him?” “One of us had to,” you tease, enjoying the fact that the two of you are finally conversing in his native tongue. You’ve always loved Mando’a, the way the words sound rolling off your tongue. You untie the man, still unconscious, and haul him up the ramp of the Crest. You’ve seen Mando work the carbonite freezer once or twice, and you hope you press the right buttons as you force the man onto the slab. “Come on, baby,” you murmur to the machine, hoping it’ll work. With one final button, there’s a hiss and cold air blows from it, freezing him. You sigh in relief. You return to the main hold and pop out a cot for him to lie on. Running back down the ramp, you find the dazed Mandalorian in the exact spot you left him in. “I’m going to carry you into the ship,” you tell him, grunting with effort as you lift his practically deadweight body off of the side and into a standing position. You drag him up and immediately shove him onto the cot. “Fuck, I’m sorry,” you cringe as he moans in pain at the contact with the cot. “One more thing and we’ll get some bacta in you.” The owner of the hangar is waiting for you outside the ship, holding the kid, both confused by the commotion. You very quickly and hurriedly explain to her that everything is fine now, thank her and pay her a generous amount of credits, and rush back onto the ship with the baby. “Keep the speeder!” You shout behind you as you close the ramp. - A full day and a half later, the Mandalorian awakens from a deep slumber with a pounding headache. He sits with a jolt, which only makes the headache worse. He looks around to find that he’s in the Razor Crest, the familiar hum indicating that he’s in hyperspace. The events of the past few days begin to manifest in his memory and he groans, lying back down on the cot. You climb down from the cockpit as you hear him stirring and find him on his side. “Good morning,” you say softly as you sit on the edge of his cot, the kid in your arm. You set the child down and he toddles off elsewhere.  “You were out for a good day and a half,” you tell him and stroke his side softly. “How do you feel?” “Like shit,” he groans, rolling to his back again. He’s hyper aware of your touch, the way your fingers drag down his- oh shit, he’s shirtless, armorless- skin, avoiding the bruises. “You… thank you,” he says, gravelly voice soft. It sinks in that he’s wearing just a pair of shorts and his helmet. You must’ve undressed him, cleaned and bandaged his wounds. His breath catches in his throat. You nod and stroke his good arm. “Of course. That’s why you brought me on, isn’t it?” you tease. He chuckles, but it’s clear that takes effort. “Really, thank you. And you got the bounty too! Shit, mesh’la, I-” he says as he starts to sit, but you push him back down with a hand to his chest, caressing the side of his beskar helmet. “Nayc, stay down,” you tell him, chuckling softly. “Rest. I’ll bring you some water and go back up to the cockpit so you can take off the helmet,” you say with a soft smile, standing and going to where you keep the food and water bottles. As you move, he mulls over the events that led him here. He got knocked down and beat by the man that was supposed to be his bounty. That never happened. You came to rescue him and- wait. You just told him no, nayc, in Mando’a. In fact, you were speaking Mando’a to him the whole time you rescued him, reassuring him and directing him in his native tongue, which he had no idea you spoke until just now. You return with a nutrient bar and water bottle, setting them next to his side on the cot. “I’ll head back up-” you start to say, but he stops you by grabbing his wrist. “You speak Mando’a,” he says simply, looking up at you with wonder behind his mask. “Yeah,” you chuckle and admit, face flushing with warmth. His is equally heating beneath the beskar. He sits up slightly but instead you come to his level, sitting on the edge of the cot and pushing him down with a firm palm to his chest. He chuckles softly. “So you’ve understood me every time I’ve called you beautiful,” he says, a tinge of shyness in his modulated voice. Nodding, you tuck a stray hair back from your face. “I… yes, I have,” you nod, giving him an awkward smile. “I hear you talk in Mando'a in your sleep too, sometimes.” Even his chest is flushing with warmth now. You look away, at a corner of the ship “You talk about your life. People from your past.” The silence hangs between the two of you, your hand still resting in the center of his chest. You slowly drag it to his good shoulder, and down his arm. He clasps your hand in his when it reaches his fingertips. “Have you heard the name Din?” He asks in his native tongue, and you shake your head softly, truthfully. It never came out. “That’s… my name. Din, Din Djarin,” he admits to you, hand squeezing yours softly. You gasp softly, not expecting that information from him. A smile settles on your face after a moment. “Well then. Hello, Din.” You lean down and press your forehead to where his lies beneath the metal. A keldabe kiss, you know, the most intimate gesture a Mandalorian can do. It truly melts his heart, the organ pumping frantically in his chest. “Hello to you too, gorgeous. Wait,” he stops and pushes your face from his, gently. He returns to speaking Basic with a chuckle. “How many languages do you speak?” You look upwards, mentally counting. “Uh. 8 and a half. I’m still not finished with Ubese,” you say and turn back to face him, a shy smile gracing your face. “Wow. You’re a mirdal’ika,” he tells you, the smile evident in his voice even though you can’t see it through the mask. Separately, the syllables make sense. You understand the direct translation, but it’s odd, and you cock your head to the side as you look down at the Mandalorian- no, Din. “Little clever one?” You ask, unsure if you heard him correctly. “Yes, well, that’s the direct translation. It’s really more of a slang term.” “For?” “In Basic… I believe the equivalent would be… nerd.” “Din!” You squeal and laugh, smacking his good shoulder lightly with a backhand. “Excuse me, that’s rude,” you chuckle, the smile growing even wider on your face as you look down at him. He doesn’t respond for a moment and you give a soft sigh. “Well, you need to drink that water. I’ll head back up to the cockpit,” you tell him, really meaning to leave this time, the smile falling. Once again, as you stand and try to move, he grabs your arm. “I… I think I’m going to need help with that,” he admits, almost ashamed. “Please. Stay.” You nod, but then realize what it implicates. “No, Din,” you sigh, shaking your head. “I can’t do that to you, you and that helmet, it’s… it’s your everything, I couldn’t possibly-” “Please, cyare,” he asks in his native tongue again, and your heart melts. “I want you to see me. I need you to see me.” Heart pounding, you take a beat before you respond with a nod. You sit down once more, hands slowly tracing up his sides, then his chest and up to the base of his helmet. “You’re sure. Positive,” you ask. “Of course I am.” With a nod, you allow him to bring his hand to the side to unlatch the lock. Once it releases, he lifts his head just above the pillow and you slide off his helmet, catching the back of his head with one hand and easing it back down to the pillow. You make sure the helmet rests on the floor before you finally look at him. He’s gorgeous, truly. His tanned skin, which you saw when cleaning his wounds, is covered with dark stubble and a mustache on the lower half of his face, broken by two plush lips. Your fingertips trace his jawline as you take in his softly hooked nose, his dark eyebrows, his dark and messy hair, but most importantly, his eyes. His eyes are a beautiful chocolate brown, set gently into his face and looking at you like you’re a shimmering supernova, no, something even more beautiful. For a moment, you get caught up staring at him. “You’re absolutely beautiful, Din,” you mumble in Mando’a. He just gives a soft smile and murmurs his thanks. After you finish staring, you shake your head quickly. “Sorry, the water,” you chuckle nervously, turning to grab it from your other side. Din’s hand catches the side of your face. “The water is a secondary need,” he says softly in Mando’a, turning your face back to his. “I took this off for something else.” His eyes hold a question as he looks up at you. You bite your lip for a moment before breaking into a smile and nodding. The Mandalorian pulls your face down to his, and, ever so gently, your lips finally meet, real and warm and absolutely delicious. You sigh softly, putting a hand on the side of his face too. His lips are softer than you’d expected, while yours are just as beautiful as he dreamed about at night. You both continue for a moment, his hand drifting to your neck, completely lost in each other. A moment later, you pull back and giggle. “I have to admit something, Din,” you tell him and lovingly stroke the side of his face. “It better not be that you’re secretly engaged,” he asks teasingly, a soft smile on his face and raising an eyebrow at you. “No,” you laugh and run your hand through his curls, carding your fingers between the surprisingly soft locks. “That…” you gulp and look away before looking back at him. “Was my first kiss,” you admit and bite down on your bottom lip. He laughs softly but there’s love in his eyes. “A girl as beautiful as you never dated when you were younger? Never went out and flirted with her classmates?” You shake your head. “I was generally too busy at home, reading or teaching myself the language of the man who’d eventually be my first kiss.” You both laugh at that and you grin. His hand rests on the side of your face, gently sweeping his thumb across the skin beneath his fingers. “Of course you were. My little mirdal’ika,” he laughs, bringing your face to his to kiss you once more.

#din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin #the mandalorian #baby yoda #the mandalorian fanfiction #grogu #the mandalorian fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #din and grogu #mando x reader #mando

[hxseok-honee]

3005 || part 3

3005 [part 3] || “sound good, Princess?"

[no matter what you say and what you do // when i’m alone, i’d rather be with you]

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a/n : I AM SUFFERING I HAVE MADE M I S T A K E S

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When Y/n steps into the forest clearing the next day, she finds that Hoseok’s not alone. There, seated on the large tree trunk near the cauldron where he stands, is her new acquaintance. Yoongi’s eyes flick up from the book he’s reading when he notices movement, Hoseok still having not seen her since his back is turned. Yoongi clears his throat to alert his boyfriend, but there’s a few seconds before he does so. He first takes his time holding eye contact with her, and she can see, even with a book in the way, that there’s a smirk playing on the edges of his lips. And then he’s blinking, returning his gaze to the page before him as he clears his throat.

Hoseok glances up from where he’s carefully filling vials of wolfsbane potion, glancing over his shoulder when Yoongi tilts his chin up, gesturing in Y/n’s direction with his head without ever moving his eyes from the page. Hoseok spins on his heel smoothly, grinning easily at Y/n.

“Princess! So kind of you to join us.” Even though she’s looking at Hoseok -- not really looking him in the eye, but still looking at him -- she sees Yoongi lift his head, and she wonders what he’s thinking about the nickname his own boyfriend’s given her. As if reading her mind, his opens his mouth, breathing out a laugh before he speaks.

“‘Princess’, huh? I wasn’t aware you were Cinderella -- you know, since you like pumpkins so much.” Yoongi meets her eyes again, that little smirk returning when she instinctively squints, glaring at him.

“I told you I hadn’t thought about the fact that they use the pumpkins for the food--”

“I’m just saying, I was wondering why the pieces of pumpkin in the soup the other day were so soft--”

“That’s not how that works!” Yoongi’s smirk widens, her reaction pleasing him endlessly. Hoseok only looks between them, eyes wide.

“Uh… do you two need a minute? Because I have no idea what’s going on here.” Yoongi breaks eye contact then, returning to his book.

“Your little wolf’s fond of Hagrid’s pumpkin patch.” Y/n flushes angrily, thrown both by the fact that he’d just referred to her as Hoseok’s little wolf and that he hadn’t even come close to properly explaining the situation.

“Okay, well your little boyfriend interrupted me in the midst of an existential crisis, which, frankly, is just rude.” Hoseok had been looking at Yoongi, also surprised at the name he’d given her, but he whirls around then, eyebrows hidden under his hair as he stares at her in shock. Yoongi also looks up, decidedly shutting his book and setting it down beside him before crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh, so that’s what you were doing! I wasn’t sure if that was just part of your regular lunchtime routine, or…” Y/n huffs loudly, and she feels herself growing frustrated by the obvious enjoyment Yoongi’s getting out of teasing her. But Hoseok’s reaction to their conversation surprises her enough to halt any irritation she would have felt.

“Okay -- you two are acting really weird… I mean, I can’t say much about Y/n since, apparently, she hates me enough to never talk to me, but Yoongi…” He looks his boyfriend over with surprise, causing Yoongi to deflate slightly after a moment. He uncrosses his arms, setting his hands in his lap as he shrinks shyly under Hoseok’s gaze. But it’s the way Yoongi’s ears are turning pink that tips Hoseok off, and he hums knowingly.

“I see--” He turns to Y/n then, the arrogant smirk she’d come to know over the years filling his face. “You’ll have to forgive him, Princess -- my little Prince isn’t the best at making friends.” Yoongi’s blush deepens, and he digs the toe of his converse sneakers into the dirt below him stubbornly. This is not the same Yoongi that had just derived joy from teasing Y/n, and she’s very surprised to see how quickly he changed. Glancing at Hoseok, she finds that he’s got his eyes on Yoongi, fondness dancing in his gaze as he smirks at his boyfriend. She decides then that their dynamic confuses her, but then she remembers what Hoseok had said.

“I don’t hate you…” Hoseok turns, eyes genuinely surprised that she hadn’t let the comment pass. Y/n only makes brief eye contact before looking away, never having been able to properly meet Jung Hoseok’s intense gaze for very long. “I don’t hate you.” She’d wanted to explain why she’s so shy around him -- that he intimidates her, probably without meaning to -- but she’d only repeated herself, unable to find any other words. She hears Hoseok snicker, and when she looks up, he’s got his back to her again, having returned to his potion.

“Well, that’s certainly nice to know. Maybe I should only give you one vial at a time -- then you’ll have to keep finding me every day, and I can finally get to know you.” There’s a pause, one where Y/n isn’t sure how to respond, but it ends when Hoseok glances over his shoulder at her with a toothy grin.

“I’m just fucking with you. I wouldn’t hold out on you like that.” He turns, holding a small container, one that she’s very familiar with. She steps further into the clearing, approaching the pair, head bent as she pretends to watch where she’s walking on the uneven ground -- a habit formed over the years so she doesn’t have to look Hoseok in the eye.

She stops when the little wooden box comes into view, and he hands it to her. But when she moves to pull away, he doesn’t let go, holding her there with the grip of his hand on the box of her vials. She looks up in surprise then, finally meeting his eyes without even thinking about it. She finds that Hoseok’s smirking, as usual, but it widens when she looks at him.

“There she is.” It’s whispered, and he doesn’t take his eyes off of her for a second while he says it, causing her breath to catch in her throat from the sheer effect of his overwhelming presence. She feels trapped by him, prey being mocked by that smirk.

Her eyes flick over to Yoongi, expecting to see some kind of reaction at her proximity to his boyfriend -- annoyance or irritation maybe -- but she finds that he’s only regarding Hoseok with eyes filled with intrigue. A thought seems to have crossed his mind when Hoseok had acted, because Yoongi’s examining his boyfriend with a raised eyebrow, like he knows something she doesn’t. And when he finally glances at her, it seems the shy Yoongi that Hoseok had dragged out has disappeared again, leaving a new Yoongi who only looks her over with surprised interest.

She doesn’t even realize Hoseok’s released her vials, too stunned by the suddenness of the moment. When she looks down and sees that she’s the only one holding the box, she’s still not processing it, so she stays close to Hoseok -- much closer than she’d ever been before in the 4 years she’d known him. He’s warm, she notes -- his body heat is as overwhelming as his gaze, passing over her in waves as a reminder that he’s there while she stares down at the box, eyes wide.

She also notes that, while Jungkook is much the same, warmer than most due simply to an internal adjustment made to his body after becoming an animagus so young, this is not the same. Where she’d always found her brother obnoxiously warm and only tolerable on the coldest of nights, Hoseok’s warmth is surprisingly pleasant -- nothing more than a reminder that he’s there, living and breathing beside her. It’s oddly comforting to know that the cold, offputting boy she’d come to know is warm in some ways.

The moment comes crashing to an end with the sound of footsteps in the distance, realization hitting Y/n like a truck when she thinks of what this situation could seem like to someone else. Stumbling backwards until she’s about as far away from Hoseok as she’d been from the start, she barely even hears footsteps falling into line beside her, her heart still pounding in her ears.

“Oh, hey!” Glancing up at the sudden voice, her heart flies into her throat when she realizes it’s Remus that’s right beside her.

Am I just gonna have a heart attack here? This is how I die, is that it?

She can’t even manage to smile at Remus, too flustered by the entire situation. She only glances over at James and Sirius, who have come along to keep Remus company. They wave, smiling knowingly at the blush on her face -- on the tree trunk not far away, Yoongi smirks, knowing they aren’t aware of the whole truth of Y/n’s current state.

“Hey, Hoseok! Sorry again for having to cancel on you last night -- we, uh--” Remus hasn’t noticed Y/n’s frazzled existence, addressing Hoseok like nothing’s off about the situation. He points between himself and his friends, looking sheepish. “We got evening detention, so…”

Y/n chances a look at Hoseok then, seeing that he seems to have forgotten the entire moment with her, smiling politely at the Marauders while turning to grab Remus’ doses.

“Don’t worry about it, man. This one told me that his friend Jungkook had gotten into trouble, so I figured you might be in the same boat.” Hoseok nods over to Yoongi when he says ‘this one’, and the boys seem to only notice then that Yoongi’s there.

“Yoongi! It’s good to see you, man -- I feel like whenever we find Jungkook during lunch, you’re missing from the group.” James approaches the seated boy, clapping him on the back good-naturedly. Yoongi only nods, an easy smile coming to his features. He looks mildly uncomfortable, but it’s clear he and the Gryffindors are familiar with one another, and Y/n wonders briefly what Yoongi’s like as he gets to know someone.

She doesn’t even see that he’s meeting her eyes curiously until he responds, his voice bringing her back to reality. She watches as he doesn’t look away, eyes locked on hers as he speaks, that infuriating smirk making another appearance.

“Yeah, sorry about that -- I’m usually busy during lunch.” Y/n’s mind flashes to when she’d accused Yoongi of interrupting her existential crisis during lunch, not ten minutes prior. She flushes, that annoying pounding of her heart growing when she sees that the comment is lost on James, his words meant strictly for her. Remus shifts next to her, and when she glances up, she sees that he’d noticed the moment, looking between her and Yoongi with curiosity. He clears his throat, shooting her a quick grin as he addresses Hoseok again.

“Well, I’m glad I ran into this one at breakfast today and heard you guys were meeting now -- I’d hate to take more time out of your schedule.” Remus reaches out, brushing his fingers along the inside of her wrist when he calls her ‘this one’, referencing Hoseok’s previous comment about Yoongi jokingly. Y/n’s eyes widen as she glances down at her wrist, watching as Remus’ fingers slide off of her skin before returning to his side, where he lets his arm hang.

She glances away quickly, trying not to make a big deal of the gesture, and she ends up catching Hoseok’s expression as her eyes pass over him. Remus had meant the comment innocently, of course, but the look in Hoseok’s eyes -- cold, hardened eyes that gaze emotionlessly at the spot where she and Remus had just made contact before flicking up to meet Remus’ eyes -- tells her that maybe he doesn’t like that she’s being referred to in the same way Hoseok had referred to Yoongi.

She’s not sure why -- a personal association to the words, an inside joke between the boyfriends, perhaps -- but Hoseok’s teeth are clenched, his jaw locking and unlocking as he smiles in response, and it sets her skin on fire. He’s not even looking at her, gaze trained evenly on Remus, but she feels the heat of his glare, very different from the heat she’d felt radiating off of him earlier.

“It’s no problem -- I’d have been happy to reschedule.” The words are understanding, but there’s an edge to them, the tone in his voice razor sharp. Y/n glances up at Remus and finds that he’s already looking down at her, his eyebrows raised as he looks at her knowingly.

“I get the Look all the time… just me though…”

Y/n blinks, confused as she remembers what he’d said to her yesterday. She looks to Hoseok, but when he flicks his eyes over to her, his gaze softens, and he looks away and scratches at his neck awkwardly. Behind him, Yoongi is looking at the back of his boyfriend’s head, eyes curious as he glances between Hoseok and Remus. His expression is fairly even, but Y/n can see that he’s been making silent observations when he finally smiles to himself and lowers his gaze to his lap, twiddling his thumbs as he thinks.

Hoseok moves to hand the box of vials to Remus after a moment, still slightly awkward from his obvious display of annoyance as he approaches them. When he passes the doses to Remus, he takes a moment to glance at Y/n, eventually reaching over to tap a single finger on the top of her own container.

“Don’t let me find out you aren’t taking these with food like last year -- sound good, Princess?” Y/n inhales sharply, only having heard the name when they’re relatively alone. Remus’ jaw drops, accompanied by James choking on his own spit and Sirius making some kind of strangled noise behind his hand. She looks past Hoseok to see Yoongi smiling widely, eyes dancing with amusement.

Nodding quickly, Y/n lowers her gaze and turns, pushing past Remus as she heads for the path back to the castle. Remus follows, stunned, and James hops off of his seat, not even bothering to wave at Yoongi as he and Sirius take off after Y/n, their teasing voices ringing out through the forest as they go.

Hoseok watches them leave, Yoongi only watching Hoseok. Finally, the boy on the tree trunk hums, eyes trained on the side of his boyfriend’s face as he speaks.

“So… She’s interesting.” Hoseok doesn’t take his eyes off of Y/n’s back, shrinking in the distance as she and the Marauders walk back to the castle. He swallows hard, sighing softly before responding.

“She’s certainly something.”

#bts au #bts smau #bts social media au #bts hogwarts au #jung hoseok #min yoongi #hoseok x reader #yoongi x reader #bts poly au

[whentheynameyoujoy]

Yup, Sure Was a Finale

I had an epiphany. The reason why I never re-watched the final two parts of Sozin’s Comet even though I’ve popped in episodes at random many times over the years isn’t that I can’t bear the sadness of seeing one of the best, most engaging narratives out there come to an end.

It’s simply that the finale isn’t all that good.

Some honorable mentions of what was enjoyable.

(+) This

Just this.

(+) The Church of Zutara has another convert

“Are you sure they don’t get together?” Hubster, 2020

(+) The tragedy of Azula

And the fact that it’s acknowledged as such. I hope Zuko will do his best to get her help and have a relationship with her…

(+) Sokka being a big bro

And the whole airship sequence in general. It’s wonderfully paced and plotted, with moments of humor, real stakes, Toph being both badass and a scared crying kid, Sokka strategizing and protecting, Suki saving the day, and non-benders being instrumental in thwarting the bad guy firebender’s plans. Would be shame if Bryke never portrayed them this capable ever again…

And now for the main course.

(-) Blink and its over

The wrap-up feels too quick (hashtag Needs More ROtK-style False Endings). A part of this is due to how fast the story goes from the thick of the action to hastily tying up a bunch of loose ends, but the larger issue is how Book 3’s uneven pacing comes home to roost. After spending half a season on filler episodes that at best subtly flesh out established characters while dancing around a huge lionturtle-shaped hole, and at worst contradict the theme of “no one is born bad” with “you’re a hot mess because your great-grandfathers didn’t get along too well”, the frantic “go go go” rush of the second half screeches to a halt with “they won and everyone was happy because now the right people have power and it will be all good from now on yup nothing more to deal with baiiiii”.

Yes, I know, it’s a kids’ show. But goddamn, this particular kids’ show has proven so many times it can do better than the expected tropiness. Showing the characters in their roles as builders of a new world was the least that could have been done.

Oh well!

(-) Ursa

We’ll never know. There will never be a story that delves into this. Yup. Shall forever remain but an intriguing mystery. Is good, though. Mystery is better than a story where Ursa shares her son’s penchant for forgetfulness. Imagine how embarrassing that would be. Speaking of which…

(-) What does Mai see in this jerkbender?

Look, I like to harp a lot on the mess of inconsistent writing that’s Mai but let’s unpack this scene from her perspective, shall we?

Zuko forgot about her! It totally slipped his mind that the one person who prioritized the safety of his dumb ass was rotting in the worst prison in the Fire Nation—because of him! And she was rotting there long enough after the final Agni Kai for the news of Zuko’s upcoming coronation to spread and her uncle to feel sufficiently secure to release her. But then the coronation scene is attended by every single member of Gaang & Friends that was imprisoned?

So what this tells me is that either a) the invasion force had the ability to break themselves out the whole time and for some reason decided not to exercise it until after the war was over, b) Zuko forgot about them as well and no one thought to remind him there were prisons full of POWs until Mai arrived, or, and that’s even better, c) Zuko took care to free every single resistance fighter while making sure Mai would be the one to stay behind bars.

Never thought I’d say this but Mai? Honey? You deserve so much better.

(-) “What does Katara want?”

Asked no one in the writers’ room ever, apparently.

This is not so much anti Cataang as anti romance stories that pay attention to the needs, opinions, and wants of only one partner in general. Over the previous 60 episodes, Katara actively expressed romantic interest in Aang exactly, wait for it,

Once.

And it got retconned out of relevance by the following two interactions where the possibility of a romantic relationship came up, making the Headband dance pretty easy to reclassify as just one of those examples where Aang “teaches” Katara to have fun (as if one of the main obstacles to her having fun wasn’t him constantly fooling around and offloading his duties). And because the writers not only didn’t succeed in portraying Katara’s internal state of mind, but also failed to root her reluctance to pursue a relationship in outside circumstances that could change, her sudden state of unconfused once Aang steps into the spotlight has a single canonical explanation that as much as approaches coherency.

The fact is, though, that trying to interpret canon Cataang from a Watsonian perspective is an exercise in foolishness. Because there is no Watsonian justification for the ship and never has been. Bryke simply conceived of Katara as nothing but a tropey prize for Aang, never saw her as anything beyond that, and were perfectly happy to go on and immortalize her as a passive broodmare for the rest of her life.

And I fully intend to die mad about it.

(-) Iroh dips

OK, it’s been long apparent that the show doesn’t intend to do anything about Iroh’s complicity in AzulOzai’s regime in any meaningful way, and that his sole motivation for doing anything whatsoever is Zuko whom he views as a replacement son which is supposed to be good for some reason. But the finale has him abandon even that, and instead turns him full-on YOLO, idgaf anymore. It really throws Iroh’s supposed love for Zuko into doubt when his last act in the entire show is to take a half-educated 16-year old with no political savvy or an heir to secure a dynastic continuity and plomp him on the throne of a war-mongering imperialist regime where the entirety of the militarist and ruling class is guaranteed to fight him tooth and nail for power.

(I sure hope Mai’s ready to start popping out babies by tea-time otherwise the whole country is fukd in about a week)

Christ, how hard would it be to have Iroh keep the throne warm for a few years while Zuko is getting ready to succeed him? Not only would it make the whole FN reformation bit quite likelier to occur, it would require Iroh’s hedonistic ass to actually sacrifice something for once. And not having Zuko ascend to power, instead spending some time bettering and educating himself first, would be a wonderful message that no matter what you endured and overcame, you never stop growing. A kids’ show, remember?

(-) The conquering of Ba Sing Se

Gee, I feel so blessed to have my attention diverted from battlefields which actually matter to an old dude vanity project I would have been perfectly happy to assume resolved itself off-screen.

The White Lotus in general just bugs me. I was fine with the individual characters and their overall passivity when they were portrayed as lone dissenters living under circumstances where it wasn’t really possible for any single person to mount a meaningful resistance. But as members of a far-reaching shadowy organization that’s left the real fight to a bunch of kids for 59 episodes straight and didn’t turn up until a perfect opportunity presented itself to take control of the largest city in the world and bask in the spotlight?

Yeah, no.

Similarly to the lionturtle-ex-machina, the White Lotus represents a huge missed opportunity for a season-long storytelling. Here’s just a brief list of what they could have been doing throughout Book 3:

orchestrating a Fire Nation uprising;

gathering those directly persecuted by AzulOzai’s regime to help Zuko keep his hold on power once he’s crowned;

establishing themselves as a viable alternative to Ozai;

sabotaging Fire Nation’s war efforts from the inside;

countering Fire Nation propaganda (Asha Greyjoy’s pinecones, anyone?);

running a supply network to alleviate the suffering of Earth Kingdom citizens.

Instead, they sit on their asses until the time comes to claim personal glory.

You know what, good on Bryke for making me conclude that in comparison, the Freedom Fighters were perfectly unproblematic, actually.

(-) Fire Lord Dead-by-Dawn

Yes, a kids’ show, I know! But ffs, this is the same kids’ show that came up with Long Feng and portrayed courtly intrigue, kingly puppets, secret police, spy networks, and information wars. Was it really too much of me to expect something other than “enlightened despot solves everything”? Especially if said enlightened despot has persisting anger issues, no personal support system, no base of followers, and no political experience whatsoever?

If Zuko’s actually serious about regaining the Fire Nation’s honor (i.e. by dismantling the country’s military machine, decolonizing the Earth Kingdom, paying reparations to everyone and their lemur, and funding any and all cultural restoration projects Aang and the SWT come up with), then there is no way, no way in the universe that he doesn’t face a civil war, deposing, and execution within a month.

One reason why his future as a Fire Lord seems rather bleak is that little’s been shown about the actual subjects of AzulOzai’s regime. While we get a vague reassurance that “no Toph, they’re not born bad” (le shockings), they largely remain a voiceless uniform mass of brainwashed clapping seals. What is their view on the Fire Nation’s crimes? Do they associate their condition with their country’s war-mongering? How will they react when Zuko starts dismantling the country piece by piece to rebuild it, bringing it to economic ruin? What will they do when noble Ozai loyalists come out of the woodwork and begin rounding them up under the banner of “Make the Fire Nation Great Again?”

I have no idea, and Zuko doesn’t either because he’s unironically more qualified to rule the Earth Kingdom than his own people.

You know what would have been better? Fire Lord Iroh, White Lotus pulling the strings to maintain the regime, and Crown Prince/People’s Champion Zuko travelling the Fire Nation with Aang and an army of tutors to promote the new boss, only to realize that absolute monarchy is kinda crap for the people he’s one day supposed to rule and gaining their support by ceding some power to them.

I’d laser holes into my TV due to how much I’d enjoy watching that.

(-) All hail Avatar Rock

Literally and metaphorically. Aang doesn’t sacrifice anything, gets everything, and the clever solution of going about getting said everything is handed to him on a silver platter, requiring no active participation on his part whatsoever.

He doesn’t work to unblock his chakras, spiritually or physically.

He only speaks to his past lives to get a pat on the back and a bow-tied solution he could mindlessly follow.

Energy-bending doesn’t require any sacrifice from him, leaves no lasting marks, and only serves for the narrative to praise him as the rare individual that’s unbendable and thus so very very special.

The most infuriating thing is, however, that Aang is clearly shown as being able to beat Ozai without either the Avatar state, or energy-bending.

And he chooses not to. From this moment on, Aang no longer fights to save the world. He fights to preserve his beliefs, going directly against the instructions of his past lives and effectively reneging on his duties as the Avatar.

Again.

It’s not like you can’t portray Aang’s faithfulness to his spiritual beliefs as the key to beating Ozai and saving the world. But that’s not what the show did. There is no link between Aang sparing Ozai and securing a better future, quite to the contrary—Ozai’s survival ends up being a massive problem for the continuation of Zuko’s rule, and consequently a threat to the world at large. His survival benefits Aang and no one else.

Aang’s spiritual purity and his status as a savior of the world are allowed to coexist only due to a deliberate stroke of a writer’s pen.

And I hate it.

Welp, nothing to do about it now except to bury myself up to my tits in fix-it fics I guess.

#atla #atla rewatch #meta #zutara #anti bryke #anti-kataang #anti-aang #anti-maiko

[jacepens]

Hey, how u doing? I wanted to ask for you for indications on washette fanfics, what are the best that you have

p.s. and yes, I do want to hear as well about yours in that list as well, 'cause they're gold

Hey! I'm doing alright:) Thanks for asking! What about you? (is this the correct tumblr to anon etiquette?)

Oh goodness this is such a loaded question because the answer is many. I hope you're alright with a big list sorted by category <3

Fluff! Fluff!!

The French Mistake

One of the first washette fics I read, so it holds a special place in my heart. A little silly, a little lams, ultimately very cute and good time.

Under the Arches of Moonlight and Sky

Just very good, cute, soft weary bed sharing. (this is only wholesome, I swear)

Let's Dance

Short, sweet fic with dance instructor George and our beloved two left feet Laf:)

I Like You Better in Real Life

Did someone say Influencer/Youtuber!Laf and President!George?? No??! Well start and read this fic. Seriously, it's a longer one, and just really damn cute. A bit of slow burn in terms of internalized homophobia (done in a good way) and trans Laf?? Yes. It's really so good.

The Prince

Ok, ok, it's one of mine. The one chapter is deceiving, it's decently long and featuring Prince!Laf and Royal Knight!George!:) Also magic!! angst, fluff, denial of feelings but then of course love confessions;) after angst though, don't worry haha.

Fathoms and Foundlings

Ooooohh boy. This. This one. Mermaid Laf and regular ol George! So so so well written, I mean, the feelings, the war, the weather, literally everything you can name, it's spectacular in this fic. Be warned, it is incomplete, but I remember when the latest chapter was released when I lost all hope (plus the author is still active) so I definitely don't count this one out of being updated!:) But, I'll be honest, I'm unsure about it being finished BUT I still think you should 1000% read this because you really will not find something like it anywhere else and it's just so cute!! Did I mention fucking amazing?

Whom can we trust now?

Platonic washette!! Really well written and just altogether really well put together!:) comfort after Arnold's betrayal! Seriously, I highly recommend this fic it's just so perfect of their relationship and cuuute.

The Particulars of Language

Oh goodness. Oooh goodness. This is so so cute. A nice little blend of angst and fluff and did I mention internalized homophobia? (In a good way, if that makes sense) Also so well-written by an incredible author, I just- language confusion. Need I say more??

Marque

Ok, ok, it's been too long since I read this one, so I will say, it is very tentatively going in this category. I just love soulmate au washette! Angst! Kidnapping? ...no final chapter. So I'm not sure, it could've been planned on ending very happy and fluffy! I do believe overall, this leans on the darker side, but I know I really love this one and they love each other. I want more washette soulmate aus.

Breaks your heart, puts it back together

what's my name, what's my station

Oh God oh fuck it's this one. (said with love). Brutal? Hot? Expanding my vocabulary?? An incredibly beautiful use of metaphors??? Actually feel like crying when I read it. Yeah. This is amazing.

May the Melody Disarm Us

Oh Godd oh Fuck it's this one. (maybe I should change this section's title) this one isn't even angsty per se, it's just like...brutally beautiful. They love each so much but oh my god. The metaphors, the way the author sets the scene and environment and everything! Ugh. So so good.

Let Down My Guard

Oh dear lord in heaven above preserve me. I'm gonna be dramatic but there are simply not enough words in the universe I have that can describe how I feel about this fic and how damn incredible it is!! And boy do I mean it when I say this one breaks your heart and puts it back together. I have seriously never sobbed over any piece of fiction like I did this. Just ahhhh. The feelings they develop for each other, the confusion of cultures, the secrets revealed?? I didn't even tell you Laf is a mermaid yet. Just- please. Please read this. It will rip your heart out, but it will put it back together. But really, this is just a fucking masterpiece and so so beautiful.

Porn With Plot

that dress you like

Very nicely done smut + feels! (Did I mention how nicely it's all done?) Oh! Did I mention genderqueer Laf? Yes.

Mon General / My Marquis

Ok the only reason this is going in this category is because I find the others up there more heart-breaky than this one. I love this one!! The historical details! Their loving relationship!! Very very good and lovely. With some angst of course.

The Mistranslation

Oh God oh Fuck it's this one. (I'll be saying that a lot). Would you like all these categories put into one beautiful fic?? Here it is, here. It's incredible. Please read it. It's free serotonin. (Did I mention incredibly written??)

The Things I Would Do to You

Ahhh ok. So. Super duper sweet, lots of angst sprinkled throughout but Laf's visit to Mount Vernon + feels + (smut). Need I say more??! Seriously, this is wonderful.

Not So Easy to be the Teacher's Pet

Oh. Oh god it's this one. So this is borderline Oof (Laf is 17) but if that does not bother you, then you are in for a treat!(??) Ok but really, lots of feels, denial of feelings, way-too-sweet-for-his-own-good Lafayette and poor confused George. Just fantastic.

Devil to Pay

Hoooo boy. If you like pirates or sea adventures, (hot pirate captains. I'm just gonna say it) then I'm literally begging you to read this. Kidnapped noble Laf?? Slowly falling for the pirate captain Washington?? Not to mention so many maritime details and wonderful emotions, beautifully crafted just. Spectacular. Please, read it if you haven't. Even if pirates don't appeal to you, they will after this fic.

A secret weapon

Ahhhh!!! Thiiiiiis. Is everything. Ok, yes, it includes more than washette, but I mean come on, it's (sexy) demons. It's desperate Washington trying to win a war and fight his gay feelings (guess which fight he wins?) But also, super well written and detailed and feels!! I adore this fic, and the whole series is a treat. Go read it. It's wonderful, you won't regret it.

Oof (not in a good way)

The Sweet Enjoyment of Partaking

If the not-so-sweet side intrigues you more, this is one of the few washette fics that I do love and is...not so nice. It's really good as a not nice piece! Pretty straightforward and fucked up. Ya (I) love to see it.

Transmutation

Oooohhhhhh. This is a fic I didn't read for a while just because I didn't know what it was but boy let me tell you, it is soo good. I'll say it's not as oof as the fic above, but oooh maaaannnnn. I don't know how to describe it just, don't expect sweet things, but if darker takes are your thing please go read this. You will not regret it. It's so damn good.

OW

Day One Way, By Night Another

Ok ok here me out. This one might seem a bit random and it is. It's very short and for the longest time I didn't read it until I did and said ow because ow!!? I find this has the most impact going in unarmed so...watch out. (but like check it out. it's just so unique I really do love it)

Once More, With Feeling

Oh GOD. This one is quite brief and straightforward but if you are looking to rip your heart out with feels and angst then boy do I have the perfect fic for you. But seriously, it's so well-written and just expresses all the feelings so so perfectly. But at what cost? (Pls read it)

A Beautiful Tragedy

Hello darkness my old friend. Ok but seriously, this fic still remains so impactful in my own mind just as the writer. It's not a happy ending, but I try to leave you with hope. Pretty music that I highly recommend listening to, I don't know. I think it's really good, I don't say that often about my own stuff soo if you're ok with heavy amounts of angst and pretty aesthetics then check this ok!:) (but guard your heart, sorry not sorry<3)

Porn Without Plot

Betrayals and Allies

So, admittedly, this one very tentatively goes into this category because I find compared to the others, this one has less feels and less focus on it, but don't get me wrong this is very emotional!! It displays their relationship and love so cutely (and smutily..? new word) and as extra bonus it fills in the gaps of the deleted scene from Turn. You know the one;) It's very good!!

Cold Nights

Look at me adding another of my own. This is super duper short, but I kinda like how the emotions turned out. I think this was the beginning of my first dive into my current style of writing so that's cool I guess? But yeah no, it's porn without plot lol.

What Good is Honor When You're Starving?

Oh dear, another of mine in this category. I barely put this here, but the main focus is on the smut, but there are many many feels aplenty. Oh wait, did I mention vampire Laf? George definitely not falling in love... but really, I like how this one turned out!:) Good sexy vampire times (with feelings)

Ah wow! You stuck with me! Thank you! I...tried to keep it brief. This is not an exhaustive list by any means btw, there were a few (many) I decided to cut because I wanted this list to be all encompassing of many authors, styles, etc.

But anon, thank you for the ask and giving me the chance to rant about my favorite fics! My apologies on taking so long to finish, I hope you can understand my life has been a little hectic, but I always try to make time for washette;)

Thank you!!<3

#asks #anon #washette #tal's recommedations #fic recommendation

[hankwritten]

And She Dresses Like a Scoundrel

Engineer/Spy, 2k

Part of the DontNeedADiscord Pride Week, Day 4: Fashion

“Thank you, Engineer,” I said gratefully, accepting back the once again functional disguise kit.

“No problem, partner,” he replied, gracious as ever. “Must have been a hard three days without it.”

“Indeed.” I sighed, recalling how many sentries had gotten the better of me with a grimace. “To think, less than a year ago I was relying entirely on my own skills of camouflage to create my disguise. I would even do it for fun! But here I am, ten months working for BLU and I’ve become completely dependent on their technology.” Another sigh, this time more beleaguered. “Truly, I have let myself slip.”

“I wouldn’t go that far, Spy,” he said, consoling.

I raised my hand. “No need to be patronizing, my friend. I know the writing on the wall.” I waved, preparing to exit his workshop. “Thank you again for the repair, Engineer.”

But as I was halfway to the door, Engie blurted, “why don’t you?”

“Come again?” I asked, turning around.

“Why don’t you make your own disguises anymore?” he repeated, seemingly genuinely confused.

“As I said, I haven’t needed to,” I shrugged. “And thus, my skills have lapsed.”

“But if it was for fun, why’d you stop?”

At that I paused. It had been fun, one of my greatest prides was coming up with a new face and a new identity to fit any particular occasion. There was no greater joy than reintroducing yourself to someone under a new guise and seeing them have no idea.

“…I’m not sure,” I said honestly. “Probably because, despite my enjoyment, I associated the activity exclusively with work.”

That satisfied his curiosity, though it did make him rather dour. “Makes sense.” He thought for a moment. “But you could always pick it back up again?”

“I’d be horridly out of practice,” I waved off.

“So? We all gotta start somewhere.”

I tilted my head. “Why does this interest you so?”

He pushed up his goggles, chewing on some thought until it left a peculiar look about his face. “Just seems a shame,” he said eventually, “All that talent going to waste. You seem mighty busy all the time, never see you do anything just because you enjoy it.”

I pressed my lips together. There was a certain truth to that, and I wondered internally if I was being resistant for no reason. “...Hm. I... suppose you are right. Even if I do have access to a near flawless disguise kit, there’s no reason to set it aside entirely.”

“There you go! You sound gung-ho already.”

I didn’t, but he was familiar with my habit of faint praise to cover up genuine enthusiasm. “I appreciate the suggestion,” I told him honestly. “…Maybe when you see me next, you won’t even know it is I.”

Engie grinned, and it was charming how vicious he looked when he was trying to be encouraging. “Looking forward to it.”

Of my old wigs, only the black one with its loose curls had managed to survive its year in storage. Even still, there was frizz on a good portion of it, and after a half hour of teasing I gave up and began tearing apart the rest of my wardrobe for something to lesson its imperfections. What I found was a scarf, red and silken, and decided it would have to do.

A full-length buttoned coat, and pair of striped legs. Yes, these would be serviceable.

But first, makeup . I remembered that much at least, though I failed to recall the first rule of application: always begin with the eyes. The result was that I was left with a perfect pair of heart lips and a disgusting smudge across my sockets, the latter of which I had no interest in starting over on. Instead, I retrieved a pair of sunglasses from my trunk. I deserved to cut a few corners after so long, and anyone who said differently could try their makeup after a year without practice and see if they could do better.

When I was done, a perfectly lovely woman stared back at me. The stare turned into a frown. A perfectly lovely woman a year out of fashion. What was I wearing? Leggings? Good god, those were on the way out last fall.

I began to examine myself in the mirror, cursing myself for ever becoming so woefully outdated. I’d had my finger in the crease of Dapper Cadaver without pause for the past hundred issues, but I hadn’t even bothered to pick up a single magazine on women’s fashion? Disgraceful. Something would have to be done about this.

By the time I made it down to breakfast, someone had already made the first pot of the morning. I filled a mug and sat down.

Medic didn’t so much as blink. He lifted his eyes, greeting, “Guten Morgen, Herr Spy,” and returned to his medical notes. By the spots of blood, they were likely fresh.

Soldier was another story. “By God! You finally did it, Nurse,” he said, gripping the back of Medic’s chair and shaking him slightly. “You turned Spy into a woman!”

“I did not,” Medic said, peeling one of Soldier’s hands off his shoulder. He then considered for a moment, and addressed me, “unless this is your way of making a statement?”

“Non,” I shook my head. “Not entirely, at least. Soldier is right, but this is not permanent: I simply wished to get back into a more…flexible mode of presentation.” I paused for a second. “What did he mean by ‘finally’?”

“Are you implying I have been working secretly in my lab for the past two years on some sort of sex-change ray that would be sure to result in wacky hijinxs should it ever be completed?” Medic sipped his coffee. “Because I’m not and that is ridiculous.”

“…I see.”

If Soldier’s reaction was passionate, Engineer’s was somehow even more so. Before he even fully entered the kitchen, he stopped dead, his eyes locked on me. A few times he tried to speak, failed, and settled for scratching the back of his neck.

“Seems like you took my advice on the whole disguise work,” he said eventually. Now he had trouble looking at me altogether, a deep blush forming along his cheeks.

“I did,” I smirked, amused at his state. “Though unfortunately I’ve found my current wardrobe is not what I’d like it to be. I was hoping to use today’s ceasefire to do some shopping.”

“You want some company?” he asked, then immediately got flustered again. “Just uh…cause I know you don’t like taking your car though all the dust ‘less you absolutely have to, and nearest city with a shopping mall is pretty far…”

“Ah, so you are offering to drive,” I mused. “And here I thought you believed I suddenly needed assistance carrying my bags.”

Medic snorted, though when Engie shot him a glare he showed no indication he’d even been listening.

“…I can give you a lift, sure,” the Engineer affirmed slowly, still frowning offendedly in Medic’s direction.

“That is unacceptable!” Soldier chimed, brining his fist down on the table and making the silverware tinkle. “You two are not yet married! You think you can just go on a trip into town while unchaperoned? It is indecent!”

Engie sputtered, losing the bit of coffee he’d had the misfortune of drinking. “Soldier! What hell are you talking about?” he sputtered. “That ain’t- it’s still just Spy.”

“Exactly,” Soldier agreed. “That is why the two of you cannot be left alone together. Do not worry! I volunteer to accompany you on this shopping trip.”

Medic was laughing, having a much more difficult time hiding it now.

I grinned placidly. “You heard the man, Engineer,” I said. “It would go against decency to be about without a chaperone.”

“Fine,” he said, pulling his helmet further over his eyes. “Guess I’ll make the truck up for three.”

As much as I wanted to see if he would pop like a balloon if any more blood went to his face, I decided he’d had enough for the morning. I kept our conversation within acceptable subjects on the way up, and refrained from commenting on his new collection of odd mannerisms. It was quite adorable actually, especially when Soldier would lean out of the back seat every now and then to remind him ‘no funny business’.

When arriving at the glorious superplex that was the Santa Fe outdoor mall, the first thing on my agenda was a new jacket. The one extracted from the bowels of my old wardrobe was such a drab mauve, and with some help from the assistant at Loveman’s, I was able to find a few acceptable pantsuits. One could only expect “acceptable” when shopping chic in a department store—and a department store in America no less—but hopefully the rivers of fashion had trickled down enough that I wouldn’t embarrass myself too badly. The white plaid one was even quite fetching.

Next were hats.

“Engineer! Spy!” Soldier arrested our attention with. “I have located something I would like to purchase.”

He was wearing a newsboy hat over the top of his helmet.

“You needn’t ask us for permission,” I told him. “You have your own funds.”

He straightened like he honestly hadn’t thought of that. “Okay!” Then he was off again, sorting through the seemingly never-ending headwear.

“Some chaperone,” Engie remarked as he disappeared.

“I’m sure we can be trusted alone for but a few minutes,” I said, turning with a blue cloche hat in place. “What do you think of this one?”

“As pretty as the last. I mean-” He coughed. “Looks just fine.”

I smiled. “Here I thought you’d had enough teasing, but it seems you’re doing all the work for me.”

“Dang it Spy, I just meant-” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “You know what, let’s just head to the jewelry.”

I shook my head. “Unfortunately jewelry is too much of a hazard. Rings and bracelets make removing gloves difficult, and necklaces are extremely useful for strangling your target from behind.”

“Terrifying that you put it like that, but remember you ain’t doing this for the job,” he prompted. “This is you getting a chance to try something different. D’ya want to wear a necklace?”

As he said it, he moved closer to the jewelry counter. I followed him, peering through the glass at all the trinkets I usually dismissed when assembling a woman’s portfolio. They were lovely…

“Mademoiselle,” I called to the woman behind the counter. “Might I be able to try this on?”

Engie whistled. “Nice choice.”

“I happen to have exquisite taste in jewelry,” I told him, gazing at my reflection in the glass as it wore the blue teardrop pendant I had picked out. “Both when selecting for a lover, or for myself.”

The attendant gave me an odd look, but it was worth it to see Engineer chuckle in a way that no longer uncomfortable.

“I have located another!” Soldier informed us as we took our bag. This time he was wearing a Viking helmet. From where he had obtained it, I had no idea.

“Then finish up paying,” Engie said. “We’re heading out soon.”

“Not so fast, Engineer,” I stopped him as he’d taken a step toward the door. “We still have not gotten anything for you.”

“Me?” he balked, craning his neck around like he was suddenly intimidated by the voluptuous mannequins surrounding us. “I don’t need nothin’…”

“And why not?” I asked. “We have dedicated the whole morning to me, and Soldier is finding ways to entertain himself, why shouldn’t you acquire something nice?”

“I…”

“Please, my friend,” I said. “My treat.”

“…Alright,” he sighed. “Sorry Sol, looks like-”

Soldier had acquired a bowler hat, which he wore on top of his Viking helm.

“-Well okay then.”

The Engineer provided an interesting challenge. The first thing I noticed was that everything in his size was far too long for him, and it made me question how he’d even found fitting clothes in the first place when everything in the store simply wanted to fall off him in tubes. He explained that he usually had to hem up his pants after buying them. I thought that was adorable, to which he muttered a string of ‘aw shucks’.

In a montage where Engie grew more flustered by the minute, I managed to get him into a delightful pair of corduroy pants with a mustard button down, an orange sweater with matching slacks, and a simple floral print button down that might go under his overalls. However, my absolute favorite was-

“Well now you’re just being rude,” he said, holding up the jacket.

“Howdy partner,” I mimicked. “Why don’t we just give up?”

“I don’t sound like that,” he complained. “And I definitely don’t wear things like this.”

The cowboy leathers were the sort of pink you saw from a mile away, genuine cow hide wasted on the monstrosity in his hands. There were more tassels than a man could ever want, and they went wonderfully with the white chaps and matching white Stetson.

“This is an eyesore,” he said.

“So are your regular clothes,” I reflected. “Please, I only ask that you try them on.”

He grumbled, and stepped into the changing room. That was good. I’d hate to have to bring out the, ‘for me?’.

“It’s certainly…something,” I said six minutes later.

“A trainwreck,” Engie said.

“You’re smiling,” I pointed out.

He grinned a little wider. He turned in a circle, the hundreds of tassels swishing around him, and then for good measure did a little two-step. I couldn’t help but chuckle with a hand over my mouth.

A shopper with a mustache passed by and gave us a strange look, and for some reason I started laughing harder.

“What’s got you so tickled?” Engie inquired.

“Nothing,” I waved off with a smile. “I was just thinking: after the thirty-five times the two of use have appeared in public together, this the first that you’re the queer one.”

He paused for a moment, looking down at himself. “Heh, I guess so.” Then he started to laugh. “…So. You been counting the number of times we’ve gone out together?”

“Is it so odd that I enjoy your company?

“No but…” he studied me for a moment. “Would you like to do this again some time? Assuming we can ditch the chaperone.”

“Mr. Conagher, how scandalous!” I said with mock horror. “I thought you’d never ask.”

He gave me one of those charming smiles again, and my heart fluttered ever so slightly.

Soldier greeted us on the way out, hat boxes stacked so high we couldn’t see his face anymore. “Operation successful! Move out troops!”

“Soldier,” Engie asked as he began securing boxes in the back of his pickup so there wouldn’t be a colossal hat pileup on the highway, “how long until you stop following my ‘n Spy around?”

“I do not know. Spy! How long are you going to be a women?”

I adjusted my new hat in the side mirror. “Until I feel otherwise.”

“Well then there you go!” Soldier declared. “It is perfectly acceptable for two unmarried men to be alone together, so you may resume making moon eyes at each other then.”

That, for once, got us both to flush.

#dnadprideweek2021 #engiespy #tf2 fanfiction

[alittlewhump]

Unbidden - Act 1, chapter 3

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Content warnings: None

"Can't you keep up, ghoul boy?"

Morgan leaned heavily against the trunk of a tree, trying to catch his breath. Blaise was over a foot taller than him and much sturdier, clearly accustomed to regular physical activity. Her brisk walking pace was impossible for him to match. Traveling alone, he'd been able to set his own speed. It was considerably slower.

"No. Your legs... are longer," he panted. She grumbled something under her breath and turned away. Of course she wanted to move quickly. People generally wanted to spend as little time as possible around him. "If we slow down," he suggested, "I won't have to keep stopping." She didn't respond. "Or you could just... not go with me."

"Listen," she said sharply, turning to point a finger at his chest, "I earned my place in the Sisterhood, and I take it very seriously. I have to trust in Kashya's decisions, even if I don't agree with them. I'm going to see this through."

"Very well." He wasn't about to waste his breath arguing, not when it was still so elusive. Blaise peered around suspiciously now that she'd turned back the way they came.

"Hey, what happened to that... thing? Your monster."

He'd had to abandon it some time ago in favour of trying to keep up with the rogue. It made him feel uncomfortably vulnerable even though the enemies had been few so far, and she'd picked them off easily from a distance. She was a skilled archer. "Clay golem. It was too slow."

"I thought your kind raised the dead, anyway."

"Skeletons are faster," he said, watching for her reaction, "but most... don't like them."

She looked away, scanning the treeline. "Don't like you either, so does it matter?"

Morgan didn't know how to answer that. He decided to take it as permission. These fields were ripe with choice, layered thick with dead that had never been laid to rest. He selected two nearby specimens and filled their bones with magic, like pouring a little of himself out of a larger cup into a thimble. Blaise jumped back, nocking an arrow, but seemed to realize quickly what was going on. She scrutinized the skeletons, circling them to inspect all sides. They shuffled, restless - between the freshly renewed energy and whatever remained of their original spirits, they wanted to move. They flexed their bony fingers around the hilts of their swords, which were glowing faintly blue. It cost a little extra effort to manifest a weapon, but it was much more convenient than carrying or seeking out extra gear.

"Looks like these guys are battle ready." She gave Morgan a brief taste of the same assessing gaze. "More ready than you, anyway."

"That's the idea." He was not built for fighting. Or speed. Or much of anything physical, when it came down to it. His delicate frame and poor stamina put a damper on that sort of thing. His magical aptitude, such as it was, was his only strength.

"I mean, your sword is on the wrong side."

"What?" Morgan looked down at the scabbard on his hip, not seeing anything amiss. "I'm right-handed."

Blaise sighed, pointing. "Yeah, I figured that's why you've got your shield on the left. Your sword belongs on the left too. It's easier to draw from your opposite hip." She pantomimed drawing a blade from across her body. It did look easier than the way he'd been doing it, with less wasted movement.

"Ah. I see." He set about fixing his gear's arrangement as she watched, unimpressed.

"Do you even know how to use that thing?"

"Sharp end goes in the target," he answered. That approach had been working so far. Most creatures kept their internal organs in more or less the same arrangement, and damaging those was a quick way to win a skirmish. His constructs took care of most of the threats, anyway - he rarely had to engage in combat himself.

"Very funny." Morgan looked at Blaise questioningly. What was funny? "Wait, please tell me you're joking. Oh, for the love of-" Blaise clasped a hand to her forehead, turning away. "Perfect. I'm out here with a greenhorned... kid, and some dead guys. I hope finding this Deckard character is worth it."

"I'm probably older than you, I'm just small." Morgan always had trouble telling how old people were, but it seemed like a fair guess based on her voice and the way she carried herself. "And the skeletons... remember. How to fight. From when they were alive." Watching them was the way he'd learned to handle the sword, over the course of the month or so it had been in his possession.

"They what?"

He held in a sigh. People often didn't like this part either. "Some echo of the spirit remains in the bones after a person dies. It's stronger if they died suddenly, or weren't laid to rest. When I tell them to fight, they... fight. However they used to. Look." He commanded the skeletons to spar with each other and they sprang into action, blades clashing. Blaise watched them thoughtfully.

"Well," she decided after a few moments, "that's not as bad as I expected. Now let's get going, you've had a minute to catch your breath." She didn't wait for a response before setting off with a long, loping stride. Morgan trotted to keep up, maintaining a respectful distance. He felt cautiously optimistic. Grudging acceptance was among the best possible outcomes he'd dared to consider.

They'd had to stop for the night. Tristram was simply too far to reach in a single day, no matter how fast they walked. Few words had passed between them during that day, which suited Morgan quite well. Conversation so often felt like a maze to navigate, and he could rarely figure out the right solution. His golems responded quickly and easily to mental suggestions, not requiring any specific words to perform actions or be dismissed. It was so much simpler with them. The skeletons from earlier waited obediently for their next orders, standing guard at the edge of the camp.

Silence was easy. He'd nodded silently when Blaise declared she was stopping to hunt dinner, observed silently as she dressed and roasted the small rabbit she'd shot. Now he was eating silently from his own supply of dried meat, watching the archer oil and restring her bow. It was captivating, in a small way, watching people do things expertly. The fluidity of her actions, the balanced push and pull of her muscles as she conditioned the wood, the way the firelight cast shifting patches of brighter orange on the coppery tone of her skin.

"What the hell are you smiling at, ghoul boy?" Her eyes were narrowed suspiciously. He hadn't realized he'd been smiling. He stopped. The question felt like a trap.

"I was just... admiring you," Morgan ventured. If there had been a correct answer, that wasn't it. Blaise crossed the distance between them with a few long strides and grabbed the front of his shirt, hauling him onto his feet.

"Listen close, you disgusting little man, because I'm only going to say this once," she snarled. "I'm here with you right now because I respect my commander. I'm not here for your enjoyment. If you want your cock to stay attached, you'd better keep it in your fucking pants."

"What? No, that's not - I didn't mean-" Morgan stammered, horrified. Had there been a sexual connotation to his phrasing? He definitely hadn't intended one. He'd have to remember not to say that again.

She gave him a shake. "Tell me you understand what I'm saying to you."

"I understand," he croaked. She released him roughly, sending him sprawling in the dirt. He picked himself up gingerly. "I'm sorry, I-"

"Shut up. I don't want to hear it." Morgan closed his mouth and averted his eyes, shrinking back. An apology would have to wait until Blaise was... less furious.

She eventually turned away. "I'll take first watch," she announced with her back to him. "Can't sleep like this."

He wasn't going to sleep either, not after that outburst. It would be prudent to rest, though. He returned to his seat by the fire and settled in to meditate. The skeletons folded down into themselves, collapsing in an orderly manner so they would be easy to raise again later. Blaise whirled around at the noise.

"What are you doing?" She squinted suspiciously at the neat piles of bones.

"Putting them away. They don't stay together very long when I'm resting."

"Resting." Morgan wished immediately that he'd chosen a different way to phrase it. Maybe an explanation would help.

"Golems need magic to hold them together. Once they run out, if they don't get more, they just fall apart."

"Uh huh, sure. 'Resting' is a weird way to say 'sleeping' if that's what you mean, though. So what exactly do you plan to do behind my back all night if it isn't sleeping?"

"Just meditation."

"Why not sleep like a normal person?"

Morgan made the mistake of hesitating, unable to decide how to answer on the spot. Blaise jabbed her bow towards him.

"I said, why not?"

"It's nearly the same thing," he explained, "just with more awareness. I don't usually sleep in unfamiliar surroundings. None of my Order do."

"How do I know you're not lying?"

"I don't lie, but if you don't believe me, I can't make you." He did not look away from her gaze, though he wanted to. It was uncomfortable. But people seemed to equate eye contact with honesty, so he made the effort.

Blaise didn't look satisfied with his answer, but she lowered her bow and turned her back on him again, muttering under her breath. It would do, then. He sat in silence for a minute or so before starting to meditate. Being rested was always preferable to the alternative.

#my writing #story: unbidden

[rpbetter]

Sorry if this isn't the place to ask but I'm in need of advice. I have a canon character I truly adore, but I haven't gotten muse or any opportunity to write them at all. My blog is collecting dust and the fandom is kinda dead at this point. Not to mention, it's hard to find compatible writing partners, especially with how picky I can be. I'm honestly considering deactivating the blog (for the nth time), but I don't want to lose the writing I have. I know I could archive, but I hate having blogs just sitting around.

In short, I really want to write the muse/keep the blog but I'm not getting any incentive to do that.

Hello, Anon, it’s totally the place to ask!

I will say, though, that since finding and keeping muse can be flavored rather personally, I can’t promise that what works for me is going to work for you. I’ll even confess that in over two decades, I’ve never personally lost muse. I don’t know if it is due to underlying, neurodiverse style, fixating, or if it is due to keeping myself continually invested in both my muse and writing regardless of what else is going on. (Probably a combination of both, though, and the things I do to keep myself highly in touch with my muse I’ll be recommending.) I’m definitely happy to try to help, however.

That really is a very frustrating spot to be in, wanting to write the muse and keep your blog active, but logging in every day to be reminded of what little reason you have to do so. Since we’re drawn to the characters we are for reasons of personal appeal and writing in itself is a pretty personal form of art, it can also feel depressing on top of the frustration.

However, that’s also the good news, in my opinion, because your incentive here is, or can be, yourself.

You were drawn to this character because you connected with them. They mean something to you, you can relate to them, maybe they have qualities (good or bad) that you wish you could experience. Whatever it is, there’s a reason why you had this draw. Writing is like that as well, there’s a reason why this is a hobby that drew you, that you get enjoyment out of. Again, though all art (it doesn’t matter if it is a hobby) has personal bits of the artist in it, writing is uniquely personal. When you write, you’re exploring thoughts and feelings, giving them life in a character that matters to you. I know, all of that sounds really convoluted and hokey, but it’s true.

And it’s good! That means you always have a reason to write and that you have the tools necessary to find and keep muse without any outside push necessary.

I’d say, firstly, work on getting muse back.

Get back in touch with your muse the next time you feel a particularly strong urge to write. Instead of spending time trying to find people in a silent fandom or forcing yourself to write something you don’t want to, just do some exercises that will help you get back into your muse.

I don’t know what media type your character comes from, but especially if it is something like movie or show that you can have on in the background of what you’re doing, do that. If it’s a comic or a book, think about your favorite scene and read it over first. If you’ve ever made some playlists for writing/your muse, you can always do that instead or as well. The point is to do something passively inspiring while you actively create. Now, that creating...

You want to do something that requires you to think about your muse so you can get in touch with them, not something that is going to make you feel overwhelmed and shut down. So, maybe don’t pick writing prompts for this - you can work up to that. Try out headcanon and character development memes and other question lists instead for right now. Things you can scroll down a list of, find questions that jump out as interesting (or even simply answerable to you at this point, you’re jump-starting a dead battery, it’s alright) and answer them. You can also do something as simple as write down what you like best about the character or their story, or put down the basics of filling in missing information that has always bugged you.

The beauty of this is that it is all on your own terms, your only objective here is to answer what you want, as much as you want. You can stop any time, but you can also answer a single question for three hours, making it eight pages long if the inspiration strikes you. It’s only about recharging your inspiration and establishing a connection with your character again. (This is also going to help you with getting back into writing, or approaching it for the first time, with a more internalized focus of interest.)

When you feel like you’ve done that, you can branch out on these exercises more. Answer the memes more in-depth, answer more of them/the ones you don’t have immediate answers for. You can also try writing out scenes from the character’s canon from their perspective, if it wasn’t already so, adding in their thoughts and feelings, or changing the scene in some ways that would be interesting to write out. This is the point where it’s a good idea to try a writing prompt or two, as well! Take the prompt as a sort of starter sentence from a mutual, you’ve got the situation, fill in with your muse.

Write when you feel like writing. The RPC is great at saying this when it comes to muns not wanting to write, but kind of ignores the other side of the equation. The side where you want to write, have the inspiration and muse to do so, but it might not be the best time. As in, you’re not home/wherever you usually write, with whatever device you tend to write on accessible. No, you’re not going to be able to get as much done, but you can write without the usual situation and device regardless. You can write a scene or ideas down using your phone or tablet, or go old school and use a notebook. If you’re at work and your job isn’t applicable to being able to get down a single sentence, that still doesn’t mean you have to wait 8+ hours to get home; while you’re taking your break, write a little bit. It is a break, and writing is your hobby, it isn’t work. It’s good to do things you enjoy on breaks, and far more fulfilling to have also accomplished something you happen to enjoy.

Not writing when you have the drive to do, putting it off and holding it in until “the perfect moment,” is a great way to lose your inspiration and never actually have that moment. If you feel like doing it, that means it is the perfect moment. Life is restricting, don’t impose even more restrictions on yourself by having to be at home, in a specific spot, with a specific device, at a specific time, on a specific day. Was that annoying repetition? You’re right, it was. And that’s how your creative mind processes all the crap piled onto it that doesn’t allow for creativity.

Now, the other problem, the fandom situation.

There isn’t anything you can do about that, to be absolutely honest. I’m not going to blow smoke and tell you to be positive, wait it out, maybe the fandom will spring to life again. You know, maybe it will...but you could be waiting literal decades for that to happen. Not cool. Please, take my word for that, it’s personal experience that it blows even more than you imagine it will.

What you can do is take the matter into your own hands in other ways; putting yourself out there with more availability in multiple ways.

Are you a single-fandom blog, or are you crossover friendly? If you’re not crossover friendly, try to think of a single, relatively popular fandom that you enjoy. Don’t look at it like a hassle, but rather, just another creative exercise. A serious pitfall of creating alternate universe versions of muses is to take the simplest route, merely picking something you want from that other universe and applying it to your muse with no relevant changes that would naturally occur from it. It isn’t just reductive as hell, it’s not remotely creative, it’s like sticking a sticker on your muse’s forehead and saying that’s a whole different muse. It’s neither attractive to potential partners nor going to sustain your own interest for long. You want this to be a passionate investment on your own end, for yourself.

What not to do:

Let’s say the fandom you picked to do crossovers with is based around magic, the main characters are witches, and they are divided into factions based on how their magical talents display and develop. Not only do you decide to make your muse a witch, you pick the most badass faction. It’s the one full of assassins and action and (metaphorically or literally) sex appeal. Well, that’s also going to be the most popular faction in the fandom. That means there will not only be plenty of big name canons there but also that there’s going to be a plethora of OCs designed just for this universe...and other crossovers from other currently active fandoms.

While that might sound like it’s great for maximizing interaction chances, it’s really not when you’re just starting somewhere new with a character from another fandom that might not be known or liked. It can also take a minute in another fandom’s RPC to identify where the good partners are. Every now and then, it is the most popular and over-populous era/faction/etc., but most of the time, it isn’t. People who write with considerable dedication and talent fairly rarely are in the popular kids club even in their fandom choices. By inserting yourself into that area, you might be bypassing (and being bypassed) by better partners on the assumption that their characters are simply going to bore you to death since they’re not within the scope of your focal point.

It’s not a situation of not being allowed to be picky, you not only have that right regardless of your situation, you also should be. This is not a “beggars can’t be choosers” situation, you’re not beholden to anyone on the basis of being new and bored. However, some of my best, and longest lasting, writing partners over all 23 years I’ve been RPing didn’t/don’t fit with all the exact surface details that automatically draw my interest. It is as true within my own fandom as it is in dealing with crossovers. Opposites (with enough similarities) really do attract and work out well together!

Don’t judge and write people off for anything that isn’t an issue of compatibility with your muse, your writing, or yourself. Decline someone because they do one line only and you are novella, they write topics that are upsetting to you, you can see no way your muse and theirs can interact without instant murder, or because you cannot stand writing with someone who is pulling 90% aesthetics and purple prose. Not because their muse is a witch who uses life-based magic, loves nature, is a healer, and into their health...while your muse in this AU is all about the death, only appreciates an urban environment and is grossed out by animals, kills as an occupation, lives on cheeseburgers and caffeine. You see what I’m saying? Don’t limit yourself unnecessarily!

What to do:

Did you consider if, in that hypothetical idea of a fandom, your muse based on their purely canon self would even fit into that faction? Or is it just something you wanted to see? If you didn’t consider this, or it was the latter, fix that. That’s bad.

If you’re not absolutely dead set on that and only that, think about what really does fit the muse better. Maybe, they would be better as a healer, someone who messes with the very fabric of reality, or someone who manipulates natural elements at will. Then again, they might not even be a witch. They could be more mundane in terms of power, but more accurate and interesting as a normal, human (or whatever). They could even be greatly opposed to the use of magic and witches. Use your muse’s original canon as a base to decide these things.

If you are absolutely dead set on it, though, you have a lot of work to do making the character into what amounts to a markedly different one while still retaining some recognizable aspects of themselves. Consider what events, in this new universe of fandom, might have happened to alter the character thus. Keep in mind that even small changes can have great consequences in a character’s development, and you might need to think about the myriad ways in which that can display, how it changes still more things for this character.

While that job becomes so much more intense when you haven’t planned out a path that matches your muse’s canon characterization at all, it is still an important part of constructing an AU, of any kind, in general. Ask yourself what experiences led to the character you know as you already know them (including your own headcanons, yes). Then, find similar possible experiences within your new fandom verse that can have the same effect. Again, though, it’s important to understand that you are never going to have an identical set of experiences, so you need to explore relevant changes still.

When you do this, you’re allowing your muse to more seamlessly fit into this other universe in a fleshed out, interesting way. Interesting both new partners and yourself.

Okay, next obnoxious question from me! Do you have multiple verses, or are you single-verse?

Whether you are already exploring new fandoms or not, by creating a variety of verses for others to interact with, you’re increasing your chances for interest and activity. When you have a verse from a different fandom you can then, additionally, advertise your presence in both that fandom’s tags when you do a promo or applicable open starter and on active RPer lists for that fandom.

Every popular fandom has such lists. You can get on them by messaging/sending an ask to the blog or by reblogging their post to be added, following the directions. I haven’t seen one yet that doesn’t allow for crossovers. You simply have to tag it as stated in the post, such as “your canon’s name here - original fandom name - crossover.” By tagging your open starter or promo as “-insert fandom here- rp” and “-fandom here- open starter” you allow people in that fandom to find you to interact. Either way is excellent for getting started in totally new places with a character others might be unfamiliar with.

Please remember that if you tag a promo as “promo,” it’ll not show up in searches off of your blog. You know, where it actually needs to be searched. Thanks, tumblr, for being janky! Being more specific as to the fandom and character will help others actually find you. Don’t shoot yourself in the foot by tagging it as “promo.”

Make your verses accessible on your blog itself, in the nature of those verses, and how you set up your page or post that lists them.

Don’t put any page behind an impossible or complicated aesthetic. You really shouldn’t anyway, but when you’re needing interactions, it’s actively hurting your chances. Many people don’t want to have to play a game with your theme, it’s a turn off. Try a pinned post that lists all of your links to important pages like rules, verses, and bio instead. It means that, even from the dash, that information can quickly be found while other muns are first interested, and also that anyone who might be using the app can access it more expediently. (I’m genuinely not a fan or big supporter of doing google docs for rules, verses, bios, etc., as it forces people off site, so I can’t personally say, in good conscious and honesty, that I’d recommend it, but you do you!) You want to keep things quickly accessible is the idea here; when people are interested, you want to catch them right then and there before they have a chance to forget and lose your blog.

As to the nature of the verses themselves, give people real options. Don’t have 20 verses that all read same way. Same themes, plot possibilities, and backstories, or incredibly similar names. Have a diverse list of verses that can act as foundations for a variety of different muns. As many fandoms as you can reasonably have a good portrayal of, and different types of fandoms; not all the same genre (all fantasy, all horror, all scifi). Verses where your muse has substantially different goals, occupations, and other life situations that will involve another muse; don’t make your muse A Warrior™ in every verse, you can keep plenty of those aspects without being that literal. People love “modern” verses set in our own universe and, usually, in our own era. That doesn’t mean you have to go stereotypical or otherwise bore yourself by doing the standard “high school/college verse,” for instance. You don’t even have to designate that sort of thing, let alone make it the focus; simply create the verse by considering what your character really would be like if they existed within your reality.

As a final note on verses as pertains to this point, when you’re doing crossover verses, it’s alright to do some verses where your muse from their own canon existence somehow ends up teleported or whatever to another fandom’s reality, or even our own. Just don’t make every verse like this, it puts the onus of a great deal of creativity and effort onto the other mun by default; your muse has cluelessly dropped into the universe, and while it is high drama time for you, the other mun has to babysit, educate, deal with fallout, etc.

On making the list of your verses accessible, you want to focus on ease of browsing and not being overwhelming. People tend to look through a verse page and not read every verse listed, rather, they look at the titles and breakdowns to see if it is of interest, then read it. Don’t try to make everyone read them all, it isn’t going to happen, and shouldn’t change your effort any as the right people are going to find the verses that interest them...if you make it clear and easy enough.

Have a basic format you stick to, firstly. I do it this way: small verse banner, title of verse (linked to its overall tag so that muns can look through the tag at headcanons, aesthetics, pictures of the FC, and threads), muse age/age range, small blurb, possible triggers found uniquely or just heavily within this verse. In that order, one following the other in a simple, but pleasing way. Below that, is a more in depth breakdown of the “verse canon.” Sometimes, that is giving a brief rehashing of canon itself and anywhere my muse differs, be it in this verse only or overall, ending with where my muse is in this verse. Not literally where. I mean their present occupation, emotional and general state in life. At the very end, I provide any other relevant links and/or an expansion on the triggers mentioned at the top of the verse description if they’re that serious/recurrent so that muns can decide this isn’t the verse for them. I happen to have a potentially triggering muse, triggering verses, and writing triggering topics, though. That’s not something everyone needs to do.

Secondly, group your verses in a sensible way. I do my short list of default verses first. (And, I do mean short, you don’t want this be any more than four or five, it is overwhelming right out of the gate.) For me, that is two default verses of canon at different points on the timeline, one default AU that is a bit of a reversal of canon, and one default “modern” verse. Then, I list the verses that are in line with the altered canon one, just different possibilities, changes, points in history. After that, the different “modern” verse options. Then, verses for other fandoms, the crossover verses. And so on. This way, a potential partner can find the type of verse that might appeal to them and have an easier time picking from those possibilities and getting ideas.

Lastly, don’t be so succinct that you give too little information and underwhelm, but also don’t be so excessive that it takes all of the mystery of interaction away and overwhelms someone. It can be a difficult balance to strike, and some verses require more information than others, just experiment a bit. Additionally, it’s fine to link to pertinent information for the other mun to view aside from this, but don’t just link people to a fandom wiki as your “description/bio.” That isn’t giving information on how you write this muse, approach this fandom, or what another mun can otherwise expect. Keeping your descriptions interesting is important, you’re not giving a boring lecture, you’re trying to inform someone while making them hyped for their choices. It’s more interesting, and informative, to read if you do them with an ear to the “tone” of your muse in that verse. Is it a sad one? Sound that way. These can, indeed, function as snippets of your writing, so be sure you are writing them with the same care you should be giving your replies; spellcheck, good word flow and use, mind the grammar, and read over what you’ve written for common, easy mistakes.

Again, by giving a genuine variety of verses to choose from, you’re allowing for a greater reach in potential partners. Everyone from those still in your original fandom to those in new ones, all the way to fandomless muses will be able to interact with you this way.

Finally, in regards to what you can change or do when you’re in a dead fandom and seeking interactions; make sure you are increasing your reach by using proper tags, being honest about what and how you write, and don’t wait for others to stumble across you.

When you use tags properly, you’re increasing your chances of being seen at all. Every time you post something at all applicable on your blog, tag it with relevant things. Tag as described above with whatever fandom it is and “RP,” your character’s name, “open RP,” character name and RP, indie RP, open starter, and so on. Be sure you are optimizing your tags by placing the most relevant to finding you in the first four, those are what show up in site-wide searches only. Anything after that isn’t going to appear in a search across all tumblr.

By tagging your character’s name, as a canon, you should know that you are likely to get personal blog interaction. I’m pretty against being nasty to personal blogs for no reason, as I don’t appreciate personal and fandom blogs being shitty to me for the sole reason that I am an RPer. Please, use clear, short, attention getting directions for them. If you want no interactions with them, put right in the description of your blog “RP blog, does not interact with personal blogs.” When you say things like, “personals dni,” or “personals blocked,” you’re not doing anyone any favors. Personal blogs often don’t even know what the hell a personal blog even is! They do not denote themselves this way, to a personal blog, they’re just a blog. By designating first that you are an RP blog, you’re making it clearer that they’re the personal; they’re obviously not an RP blog, so that must make them a personal. Follow this up in a pinned post, right on top. Give a note to personal blogs that describes them as “any blog that isn’t an RP blog” first, then either tell them in brief what they can and can’t do or that you don’t interact and will block.

I don’t recommend taking your blog off of being findable, however. That’s alright once you have the RP activity you are looking for, but until then, it’s working against you. Other RP blogs cannot easily find you either, they will only find you if you’re on a list or appear in their recommended blogs, if you interact with a mutual, or are recommended by a mutual. You’re not just lessening your chances of personal blogs finding you, so if you have that turned off, turn it back on.

Don’t entirely rely on others finding you regardless, though. You can’t be 100% passive when you have no interactions, and by relying solely on serendipity you’re far less likely to get them. I know that everyone here is terminally shy, but seriously, you have to do more than put your silent will into the universe that someone perfect find you. You have to make this happen. Once you get a few people, you can afford to be more passive. Not only do you have some people to write with, you will be more visible to their mutuals, and more established as a presence. I’m not saying this is easy, or that it will become easy, not awkward or stressful, if you have a legitimate issue behind the shyness. Just that it is the only way to really proceed, and I believe you can do it!

So, go looking for interesting blogs. Be crossover and OC friendly (again, this doesn’t mean “accept everyone,” there are valid reasons for not accepting people you won’t work out with that have nothing to do with their fandom or being an OC), and search those fandom’s RPCs, following any blogs you think you might work out with upon reading their rules and other pages. Search for fandomless OCs and do the same thing. Fandomless OCs aren’t just floating around in the ether, they just weren’t created expressly for a particular fandom and within its confines. What is excellent about that is their ability to have a wide variety of verses and many possibilities to fit into any fandom or verse. So, don’t count them out solely on the basis of being an OC and fandomless. It doesn’t mean what people seem to think it does!

Do not stop at having followed 50 blogs. I mean, other than that you probably should stop following people for a bit. That you should do, as you need to be building writing relationships here, not following so many people that you cannot get to them. Don’t just stop at the follow, though. Since you’ve read their rules and information like a good RP partner, you should have some idea of what their interests are and where they align with yours, as well as how they prefer to be approached, if they accept memes right away to start, need plotting, have a rules password. When they’ve followed you back, proceed with interaction!

Ask if they’d like to plot when they have time, you’re really looking forward to writing with them. But...have some idea of a plot, please. It is a serious turn off to have someone message you wanting to plot, only to reply and get “lol I don’t have any ideas, anything works for me/whatever you want to do.” That isn’t plotting, it’s one party coming up with ideas and constructing a plot while they’re being told “I’m fine with anything.” That may be true, but it’s disheartening and a red flag for many people. If you genuinely can’t come up with anything, pick verses that match up well and suggest doing something within them.

“When you have the time, would you be interested in discussing writing? I was looking at your verses, and I think your verse -name- and mine, -verse name-, would mesh well.” Is a good way to start. Once you have a discussion flowing about the verses meshing and the muses, it’s typically easy to organically develop some plot ideas to go off of.

If both you and the other mun are alright with plot-free interaction and memes, you can send a meme any time. If you can’t find any memes on their blog, look for a wishlist or navigation page that shows you the tags for memes/wishlist. Still can’t find it? Ask them if they’ve got a wishlist or meme tag you can look through.

Additionally, if open starters are a thing you both do and are alright with, find some of theirs and respond. Post your own, tag it appropriately to be found in general and on your blog, and reblog it once or twice. Don’t excessively reblog it, and don’t get upset on the dash if no one interacts with it or any memes you reblog. Both are demanding to outright guilting, and not a good way to get partners. Just provide them with the ability to easily interact by making the posts available in the first place and by making them findable on your blog search and navigation.

Provide something for potential partners to see. Since you said you already do have writing, that’s great! That’s content on your blog that your partners can view. However, since you’re also having the issues you’ve stated, it’s likely that you haven’t many new posts. Show that you are active, interested in being here, and how you write your muse (and in general) by posting some newer content. For original content, do a headcanon or some meta, or post about new verses you are adding, the changes on your blog, a promo. For reblogs, things pertaining to your muse like canon imagery, fanart, quotes from canon or that generally express your muse, and aesthetics relevant to your muse are all excellent things to queue.

Use that queue. Not only do very few people appreciate having dash spam of similar content for the comparatively short time you might be around, but also, running these things on a queue means you spread that out for maximum view. While there are hours of heavier activity, you’ll have mutuals who are on at unusual hours due to their life and preferences or their timezone. This way, you’re not appearing inactive, if not outright invisible, to those mutuals. It’s not a bad idea to use a queue tag so that people know if they interact with a post that’s been queued, you might be here to quickly respond.

Ultimately, to fix your fandom and lacking partners problem, you just need to up your availability and reach beyond that fandom alone. Be proactive in following and approaching, decline blogs based on not working out only, utilize tags and fandom RPer lists, have everything on your blog easy to follow and not overwhelming, and have your verses meet as wide of a range of people as possible while also not being overwhelming.

Try updating your promo, as well, by the way. They’re not dead, they just really tanked when people kept making them based solely on aesthetic principle instead of being at all informative about the muse. They do seem to be coming back, so it’s a thing to consider.

Yes, make it visually appealing, it will draw people to reading it. No, do not just use a song lyric or quote with words highlighted linking your rules, verses, bio. Tell people basic info like the age of your muse and yourself, if you are multiverse and multiship, your muse’s canon verse and a couple of big interest verses of other major fandoms or themes that tend to be of interest to people, and what kind of RP you write - one line/para/multipara/novella. Absolutely give links to rules, verses, bio, and either memes, wishlist, or open starters, but give them just like that; make it very clear what this link is to. Put a very short statement of interest on there denoting that you’re expanding to new fandoms and looking for writing partners.

Do not sound desperate, demanding, or devaluing of yourself. Don’t say shit like “because my fandom is dead,” “trying this before I give up and delete my blog,” or “I suck at interaction/writing/ooc interaction/being a person but welp giving it a try, so follow and hit that heart.” (Conversely, calling yourself derogatory things and implying that your partners are too, such as the “we’re all just losers here” shit.) All of the above are not attractive, and they’re not even surprising enough to stand out anymore. It’s another reason to scroll right by that promo because nothing at all was different or of interest.

And as a wrap-up/rehash of the first topic, getting muse back: try starting over at the beginning by approaching the media involving your muse that has really stuck with you emotionally over the years, and exploring and developing your muse again.

Don’t tell yourself you can only write, for example, at home, on the laptop, after 7pm, and with a pop toy staring at you. The best thing about writing, as opposed to so many other hobbies, is that you can do it anywhere! So, do that. Do it any time you both feel the inspiration to do so and aren’t going to get fired or expelled for it. This isn’t work, it’s something enjoyable that does take effort (like literally all creative activities and skills do), but approaching it as though you need to follow novel writing advice from someone who has never published anything of note and isn’t you on the internet, with strict rules for success makes it feel that way. So does being frustrated with a dead fandom, no interaction. It’s disheartening, feels as annoying and fruitless as work often does. You probably need to break out of that mindset, and you can only do it by beginning to allow yourself to be creative on your own terms, entirely for yourself.

Do write simple things at first that you are inspired to do (you can’t get a scene out of your head, or a bit of dialogue), and/or headcanon/character development memes and question lists. Build from there as you get back in touch with your muse, writing things primarily or entirely for yourself still. Expanding on headcanons, doing some meta, or maybe writing out a missing piece of canon or what you’d be interested in seeing happen in canon if some event was altered.

Doing this sort of thing, you are getting in touch with your muse again and back into the real spirit of writing creatively, simultaneously.

Whatever you find most inspiring, do it. If it’s watching the movie or show again, do that, have it on while you write or simply think on the character’s actions, thoughts, and emotions during those scenes. If it’s reading the material again, do that, and read snippets of personal importance before you write. Maybe it’s some past playlists you can have on while writing, or even while you’re cleaning, walking the dog, driving or riding somewhere. It could even be your own previous writing! Go ahead and re-read that, it sounds like you still appreciate it, and that’s truly promising. If you find that you’re horrified by some of the things you’ve written in the more distant past, hey...that’s not just valid as hell, it’s natural. You know what else it is? An inspiration. You can clearly see that you could do better, that means you now know how to do better and are ready to do so. Validate yourself, prove it to yourself by rewriting or fixing something.

Don’t delete the blog or archive it. It is unpleasant to have a dead blog around, but don’t keep it dead. Use the same blog and simply transition it into wider things that will net you more partners and the interactions you deserve.

Look, even if you weren’t the most popular blog in your fandom before it went quiet, you really appreciated the blog, muse, and writing you were doing. You’ve defined that it wasn’t something you did to cause this situation, you just had the shit luck we all run into eventually of being in a fandom that ran out of material or interest. People are really fickle, so by taking a wider approach and fixing on the writing and muse instead of fandom now, you’re stopping this from repeating. Seriously, on a long enough timeline, every fandom dies or goes into hibernation. If you make a whole new blog with a different muse, it is going to happen again eventually.

So, don’t feel like you’re ridiculously clinging to the past and need to move on, you’re just sticking to something and can continue to stick to it through the next five fandom deaths. Just because it is the most popular thing to do to drop muses, constantly add new ones, and have this attitude that you can “blog refresh” your way out of recurrent, and inherent, problem doesn’t mean it is actually the right thing to do. It’s not even the most sensible, and certainly not the best thing to do with anything you’ve spent time and effort on.

That’s your incentive; yourself, the time and care you’ve put in, and your continued interest in writing and the muse. You’ll find good people, and bluntly, everyone else can fuck right off when you’re incentivized by yourself. It becomes a self-fulfilling activity at that point, I swear, and it feels really nice.

Just get back in touch with your muse and writing itself so that you can begin to expand and start interacting again!

#rp advice #rp problems #rp help #muse loss #dead fandoms #rp better #Anon E. Mous #answered

[lycorogue]

“What did you expect me to do?”: In Defense of the Car Scene and Alya

Okay, so I’ve been seeing a lot of salt lately (and I tend to follow blogs that stay positive and relatively salt-free with regards to the fandom) about the car scene towards the end of the Miraculous Ladybug NY special.

Mainly the “stupidity” of the writers having Alya demand that Marinette should have said something to Adrien when the car pulled up.

“Couldn’t you see he was just waiting for you to tell him to stay?”

I’ve seen fans counter “it’s not like it would have changed anything” or “what could she do against his father’s wishes” or “her asking him to stay wouldn’t have stopped Gabriel from demanding he come along” and other such arguments.

And, yes, as viewers and as adults (I believe most, if not all, of the blogs I follow are run by adults), WE know that those are all true. Gabriel, as Hawk Moth, has just set a dangerous supervillain lose on the city with a way to make NYC even MORE dangerous by turning the superheroes against the city as well. He wants his son the HELL out of there ASAP. Nothing anyone would say could change his mind.

We also know that the only reason Adrien was allowed to go in the first place was because Gabe-y was going to NYC himself and figured it was a convenient way to not have to hide that he’d be even MORE absent from Adrien’s life for a few days. Especially given that Nathalie is clearly bedridden after the events of the S3 finale and so Gabriel can’t even outsource his parenting onto her.

HOWEVER, as the CHARACTERS, none of them know that.

What they DO know is that Marinette is apparently a miracle worker. As far as they are concerned, Marinette is the Mr. Agreste Whisperer. There have been a couple of times that she was able to convince Gabriel to let Adrien do something. If she’s involved, he can go to birthday parties. He can host a Christmas dinner. He can return to school. He can sneak off to a movie. He can do impromptu photo shoots for his friend’s fashion line. He can go on international class trips. Heck, the fashion show that showcased Marinette’s winning derby hat MAGICALLY DREW GABRIEL AGRESTE HIMSELF OUT OF HIS HOME FOR THE FIRST TIME IN MONTHS! One of the FEW times he’s left his mansion in a year (at least). 

If Marinette could do all that, despite the odds, despite Gabriel Agreste seemingly being steadfast in his decision, then why can’t she do so again? Why couldn’t she ask Adrien to stay with them, and then try to talk Mr. Agreste into allowing it?

She refused to sit idly by when Adrien said he wouldn’t be able to go on the New York trip. She stormed over to the Agreste mansion and “convinced” Mr. Agreste to let his son come. 

“My father told me everything. The only reason I can enjoy this beautiful sunset is you. I thought it would be impossible, but you believed in it. You're always willing to take a chance on something or someone, even when no one else is.”

...even when no one else is.

Marinette doesn’t give up on anyone or anything!

Until that moment. That moment when Adrien desperately needed someone to fight for him, to prove to him he’s worth fighting for, to validate that people DO value him and want him to stay. The moment when Adrien needed Marinette’s determination and positivity the most, and she failed him. (Not to salt on Marinette. I totally get why she froze. I’m just putting this in the perspective of the characters)

He had told Marinette that “You're always willing to take a chance on something or someone, even when no one else is,” and yet, apparently this is the point where Marinette draws the line. This is when she’s no longer willing to take that chance. HE’S not worthy of that chance anymore, and with everything that just happened between him and Ladybug, he FEELS that to his core.

Alya sees this. Alya can SENSE how much Adrien needed his defender in that moment, and Marinette just threw in the towel on him. Yes, Nino begged Adrien to not go, but it’s been shown multiple times that Nino truly doesn’t have any power over what Adrien can and can’t do. Sure, it may be a small bit of comfort that Nino wanted him to stay, but it wasn’t what Adrien needed in that moment. 

THAT is why Alya was so pissed at Marinette. All those times that the girl did over-the-top stunts to try to get Adrien’s attention. All the times Marinette has gone to bat for Adrien over “silly” things in the past. All the energy Marinette puts into proving Lila is lying. Then the ONE TIME someone clearly needs her to go to bat for them, and she BAILS!? THAT is when Marinette suddenly doesn’t think Adrien’s worth the effort!? Worse comes to worst, if Gabriel shrugs Marinette off and still demands that Adrien comes with, at least then Adrien still knows someone is willing to fight on his behalf, and that’s something.

But this? Not a single word? It snaps Alya. Trying to get over Adrien is one thing, but now Marinette is overcompensating to the extreme where she’s not even being a good FRIEND to him. Nope. This shit is NOT going to fly with her.

So she storms up to her bestie. She yells at her. She has no clue what inner turmoil is going on with Marinette. She knows nothing of Chat Noir. Honestly, at that moment I don’t think she even realizes Ladybug and Chat Noir are in NYC.

True, it’s a dumb move to send Marinette racing after Adrien in the rain when the city is on lockdown and a dangerous supervillain is on the lose. I’m sure Alya beat herself up about that the moment Marinette was out of view and Alya had a moment to calm down.

BUT THE GIRL IS FOURTEEN! SHE’S ALLOWED TO BE LASER FOCUSED AND NOT SEE THE BIG PICTURE WHEN HER EMOTIONS TAKE HOLD. KIDS ARE ALLOWED TO MAKE MISTAKES.

Also, let’s just face the facts. The amount of times Alya puts HERSELF in danger for a scoop, she probably doesn’t even truly grasp the potential consequences. I mean, yeah, she’s cut back on the self-endangerment a lot after becoming Rena Rouge, but still. Besides, NYC is flooded with superheroes, and at this point none of them have been influenced by the supervillian yet. As far as Alya’s concerned, how much danger could Marinette truly get in, right?

Plus, Alya never expressly told Marinette to go full-romcom-trope and chase Adrien down; meet him at the airport to beg him to stay. She just yelled at her best friend to shake her out of whatever teenage BS was going on with her trying to get over Adrien and make a flippin’ decision already (not that Alya was making that easy, but that’s for another post). Marinette simply made that decision on her own and Alya didn’t stop her. Maybe she tried, but Marinette moved too quick. We don’t know. The camera was on Marinette.

That notwithstanding, once Alya sees the news and knows that Marinette is now MIA, she probably has a MAJOR breakdown. We didn’t see it because it wasn’t important to the plot, but I trust that Alya doted heavily on Marinette the second she returned. Apologizing for her outburst and not focusing on if Marinette was okay. This is probably also where that 180 about deciding how Marinette feels about Adrien came from. Alya demanding Marinette figure it out NOW potentially put her in danger, so instead Alya has decided that Marinette SHOULD go at her own pace; there’s always tomorrow. We’ll see if that continues in s4.

Now, would I have written this whole car scene differently to try to avoid all of those narrative pitfalls? Maybe, but I’m also not a professional scriptwriter, so I can’t really critique those who are for their judgement calls. They went for the emotional gut-punch, and they kept the characters in-character. That’s all I can really ask for from them. 

At the end of the day, while it is always nice when shows take on the responsibility to educate their viewers and show them healthier ways to accomplish things, it’s not expressly their job. Their job is to entertain, and that scene WAS entertainment. It’s only with emotional and mental maturity, as well as an analytical and critical eye, does this scene present itself as problematic and therefore no longer enjoyable, despite it being fairly accurate with regards to how teenagers might think. 

Now, I’m not saying we CAN’T criticize the show. By all means, go ahead. I am still reading the salt and internalizing why it’s there so that I can learn and be better with my own writing. However, we should also be aware of how our own views and personal demands on storytellers might jade us to the show. In doing so, we should then be cautious about HOW we criticize the show, because the last thing this fandom needs is more salt.

#ML #ML spoilers #Miraculous Ladybug #Miraculous Ladybug spoilers #ML NY special #ML NY special spoilers #analysis #fan analysis #LycoRogue analysis #LycoRogue original #long post #in defense of #Alya Cesaire #the car scene #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Adrien Agreste #Gabriel Agreste #(not in defense of him but he's part of this so I added him to the tags) #remember to be kind to the show's writers

[wine4thewin]

Do you have any advice re: writing long form work? How do you manage pacing and plot points?

Oh my, this might get long and convoluted! As you may have realized, I am long-winded and it is simply abhorrent. But here goes, hang on for the method to my madness, because I am NOT one for neat writing methods.

In fact, I am a chaotic scene writer, at heart. This style doesn’t work for everyone.

General Advice from a Madwoman:

Don’t force a story. Start writing, but know the character. What is their struggle and their flaw from the beginning…and where do you hope for them to end?

Don’t force writing in order. I can’t tell you how many people tell me they get stressed writing in order and get stuck. If the next logical part is eluding you, skip it! Move onto writing a scene you are passionate about. think in terms of connecting the dots, once you have a collection of scenes.

Consider that each chapter MUST have a goal. A purpose. Don’t write filler chapters. Do not. You do that and you can lose a reader and make them put down the story. Once someone puts it down, they might not return. -to this note, you can absolutely write filler scenes for your own enjoyment, to get closer to the characters. But don’t put those scenes in the story.

Number out the path of your story. Number out a plot point, in order, making each chapter a number. This is usually easier once you have written a bit already. I never do this seriously before I start writing, because it is stressful and it will always change!

Think in terms of a Story Plot Diagram. Or at least draw one out. These aren’t the holy grail, but it is good to be able to point to each section and understand what might happen there (the start, what the problem is, the rising action, climax, etc).

MasterClass app. There are tons upon tons of famous writers on there that share their own method to their madness. I’ve watched a few of them, learned a few things I never thought of doing. Pretty sure there is a free trial, too? Oh, and Gordon Ramsay is on there and I love listening and watching him cook in his very peaceful home kitchen 🤣 ✨

To tell the blunt truth, the first story I ever wrote of a huge length, I didn’t start it with a plan whatsoever. This happens to me often; an idea comes to me, torments me, puts its claws in me until I sit down and start writing. For that particular story, I wrote like 4 chapters without an idea of where I was going, only that I knew the characters, I knew who they were and what their trials were. I decided on their internal traumas and held fast to them, as if the trauma or flaw was a character itself. I took a break for like, 5 months, came back and suddenly, I started seeing a path.

So, I started numbering out plot points. Scenes. The truth is, I’m a big “scene” writer. I will 100% write out of order. Sometimes, I write the end of a story so soon, that it eventually changes completely by the time I actually get there, guided by the characters and the sudden choices they make that shift the course of the story.

I write scenes as they inspire me and eventually, I only think in terms of “this happens before this, but after this…” and what sort of things will draw the characters together after strife.

Often times, if I think I have a beginning, obscure middle ‘where sh$t unknown happens’, and an end, I think in terms of 3 chapters. I’ll write a beginning chapter, a middle and plan what the end looks like. Often times, once this starts, more things are revealed to me and the story skyrockets from 3 into something larger.

In watching Neil Gaiman’s MasterClass, the one big thing that stuck with me was ‘finding your own voice’. Everyone starts out lost, mimicking what they see, until eventually, they find their own style they find comfort in, their own tone.

It’s taken me over 15 years, but I think I’m only just starting to find my tone in the past few years or so. Writing takes heart and a lot of trial and error. I love it I love it I love it…

But, it also kinda makes me a tortured artist or something, Idk 😅

Anyway, good luck and happy writing ✍️

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