#and! it’s been going good… but also I do not have as much free time…

[codtrashsammy]

oh no i'm having more soft Ghoap thoughts

okokko this is more of a little ficlet thing but it makes my lil heart happy so enjoy <3

also y'all i do not be editing these. at all. I just be throwin shit down on paper and making my brain produce dopamine.

if you all have any requests though pls feel free to drop into my ask box <3 I will gladly write whatever. I'm sure i'll come up with rules eventually, but rn I'm pretty open-minded and can't think of much I would refuse <3

You're waltzing around your apartment, half asleep but with a tired smile on your face. Johnny comes back today, after all, and of course that means Simon will be coming too! You've been dating Johnny exclusively for a few months now. Sure, sometimes Simon will hold your hand, or pull you in for a hug. And sure, sometimes Simon sits with you in the early mornings on the balcony while you drink a warm drink, and he smokes a cigarette- looking at you with rapt attention and soft eyes, hanging onto every word you say. Okay, and maybe he calls you 'love' and 'darling' but he's British, so it's probably normal. But it's entirely platonic- you're at least 78% sure, and plus only Johnny had asked you out- so you have to stay loyal to him even if you do feel something for the bigger brute.

But! You need to get your ass into gear and make your boys- boy something to eat- knowing damn well they- he will be hungry when they- ah fuck it. You're going to cook them a good ass meal to enjoy- knowing they will enjoy it after a month of MRE's and shitty mess hall food (Johnny's words). So you do. You work away in the kitchen- though the clock reads barely past 2AM, knowing they should arrive around 3AM at this point. You've timed it perfectly, so by the time you set everything out on the kitchen island, still steaming and hot, you hear the familiar playful rapt at your door.

ba ba baba ba

With a grin you glance over the selection of food first- mashed potatoes, green beans, fried pork chops, and freshly made black tea- you make your way over to the door and open it with a grin. "'m glad you're back!" You bout out happily, sending both men a bright grin despite your slightly tired eyes along with theirs. "Missed ye, bonnie," Johnny is quick to just waltz right on in, arms wrapping around you and lifting you up slightly with one hand, his other hand occupied carrying his duffel bag.

A snort of amusement leaves your lips as you hug him back, pressing a kiss to his lips before batting at him to put you down- though he doesn't hesitate once he notices the smell in the house. "Oooh, what's this, bonnie?" Johnny hums out, dropping his bag somewhere in the living room as he makes his way to the kitchen.

A soft laugh leaves your lips at his reaction, but you don't bother to answer him as you turn your attention to Simon, whose closing the door behind him. He's wearing his usual little black medical mask- the one he wears in place of the balaclava when he's off duty.

So imagine your utter shock and dumb fuck surprise when he pulls the thing down, steps forward, places a gentle hand on your cheek and kisses you. "Missed ya, too, love," Simon quips easily, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear before simply dropping his bag and just walking right into the kitchen.

Sir, I'm sorry, what the fuck was that?! It's a thought, no words leave your lips as your cheeks heat up.

Oh no, you just cheated on your boyfriend- in the same house with him- with his best friend.

WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU DO NOW?!

Apparently, nothing but walk into the kitchen with your boys, watching as the two of them are already seated with stacked plates in front of them. You blink blankly at the scene.

You hesitate before taking a seat, sitting across from Johnny and resting your hands on the table, looking between the two of them as they converse casually.

"Take such good care o' us, bonnie, dunnae ken what I did to deserve ya," Johnny quips, looking at you with bright blue eyes and a genuinely content smile on his face between shoveling bites of food.

"Stopped bein' a bloody prick fer more than two seconds," Simon says, voice low and monotone yet somehow tinged with amusement.

You blink again. Huh "You kissed me?" You say it as a statement, but it comes out as a question as you look at Simon, ignoring their banter even though it makes you want to snort in amusement. You're too dumbfounded and bewildered right now to handle this situation. "Uh huh." Simon responds, flatly, like it's the most obvious thing in the world as he takes a bite of mashed potatoes. Johnny looks between the two of you, a slow smirk pulling at his lips, "LT, you sly dog," Johnny murmurs with clear amusement, elbowing the bigger man in the side playfully. You sputter for a moment, looking back over at Johnny, "A-and you're just- okay with that?!" You ask in utter confusion, bewildered but not exactly disappointed at the scene.

So you didn't cheat on your boyfriend with his best friend? Johnny looks at you and this time he blinks in confusion before turning his head and grabbing Simon's jaw, pulling him close and planting a kiss on Simon's lips, causing Simon to grunt in annoyance- only because he was still eating.

Johnny turns back to you with a shrug, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. "Even?" You stare at the scene with heated cheeks before throwing your hands up in defeat, "...Even." You relent with a huff. ....can't cheat on your boyfriend with your other boyfriend who is also your boyfriends boyfriend you suppose.

#simon riley x you #cod x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #141 x reader #sammys soft times #simon ghost riley x reader #ghoap x reader #simon ghost riley x reader x john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #soap x ghost x reader #ghost x reader x soap #johnny mactavish x reader

[eufezco]

civil war!bucky x fem!reader ( angst , fluff ) no use of y/n

based on the captain america: civil war post credits scene

a / n : english is not my first language so yeah 😭 also my request are open for mavel characters (especially bucky and steve)

You had doubted whether to go or not.

You had been up almost all night, the dark circles under your eyes spoke for themselves. You tried to get some sleep but it was impossible. You moved nervously in bed from side to side. After not finding a comfortable position, you got up and started walking around your room in an attempt to calm your nerves but the four walls were suffocating you.

Steve found you throwing up in the bathroom, on your knees, and with tears in your eyes. He held your forehead so you could let it all out and then wiped your mouth. Steve gave you enough time to recompose and when you were done, he sat on the bathroom floor with his back against the wall and let you lean against his chest while you sobbed. You should let him sleep, it had been a long day for everyone, your bodies were still aching from the fight and Steve had enough to worry about. But despite all that, Steve's strong arms held you tightly close to his body, as if he was trying to hold back the part of you that he knew would leave with Bucky.

Steve took you in his arms and carried you to the couch where he placed your head on his lap, wrapped you in a blanket, and caressed your hair until you fell asleep. When you woke up, Steve wasn't home.

You had doubted whether to go or not but in the end, you went because if you didn't, you would never forgive yourself.

—Hi.

—Hey —. Bucky let out all the air he'd been holding in, relieved to see you.

When Steve arrived and you weren't coming with him, Bucky couldn't help but feel bad. He knew it could happen and he didn't blame you for it. You had already lost him twice, you weren't going to take one more, you didn't deserve to go through that again. The idea of being away from you again did not appeal to him either.

Steve, on the other hand, wasn't surprised to see you. Last night you let it all out in the toilet and on his shirt, and you got some sleep, so he figured you would have regained your strength. Or at least you would pretend that you had, the thing was, that he knew you were coming. —I'll go and talk to King T'Challa —. He said and walked out, leaving you and Bucky alone.

You slowly approached the gurney where Bucky was sitting. The metal arm was gone and only the part attached to his shoulder remained. His wounds were treated and on his face, you could finally see a peaceful expression. His brows were not furrowed, his jaw was not clenched, instead he was showing you a sad little smile.

—How are you—? How are you doing?

—I'm good. I'm ready. How are you? —He asked back.

—I'm fine I guess.

After your answer there was silence.

Bucky knew you were lying because of your tone of voice. He was aware of your disagreement with his decision. Steve also had asked him many times if that was what he wanted but this was not about what he wanted or not. Now that he had reclaimed his ability to choose, he had to use it to do what was right, and what was right was to go back to sleep until there existed a way to free him completely from the Winter Soldier program.

—Buck, you know you don't have to do this.

He shook his head at your words. Of course you wouldn't stop trying.

—I can't trust my own mind. —You were going to complain again but he talked before you could. —And as much as I would like to make up for all the time we've lost, I have to do this. Until they figure out how to get this stuff out of my head I think going back under is the best thing. For everybody.

Now it was you shaking your head. For everybody but you. After all these years you had finally gotten him back, after thinking he was dead, after fighting your friends defending his innocence, you were going to lose him again.

Without saying a word you placed your hand on top of the one he had resting on his leg. The sad smile appeared on his lips again and he looked down at your hands. The touch of your fingers on his skin felt nothing like the human contact he had been experiencing these past few years. Your touch was gentle, your fingers rested on his hand delicately, as if you were afraid of breaking him. It was the first time in a while that anyone had cared about that. Bucky flipped his hand over to link your fingers together.

Using your free hand you lifted his chin and you not only made him look at you but also made his lips at the perfect height for you to kiss them. You pressed your lips against his, he squeezed your hand. Yours moved from his chin to rest on the side of his jaw, your thumb caressing his cheek. You didn't know how or when you started crying but you felt the hot tears slide down your cheeks until they mixed with the kiss. Bucky felt the salty taste and after a few seconds, he broke away from your lips. He rested his forehead against yours and let your hand go to cup your cheek and wipe your tears.

—You are making this very hard —. He mumbled against your mouth.

You kissed him again because it was either that or trying to convince him one last time not to do it. Bucky's hand cupped your cheek, god, if only he had his two arms and could touch you and feel you the way he wanted. Bucky's lips gladly kissed you back one more time, until you both heard Steve fake coughing behind you.

You parted ways, already missing the feeling of his lips and hand on you. Steve came with two nurses and you knew that it was time. You felt your legs weakening but you could not break down in front of Bucky so you hugged yourself and hid yourself in Steve's chest. Your friend wrapped one of his arms around your body.

—She'll be fine. I'll take care of that.

Bucky pressed his lips together and nodded, thanking Steve.

—I'll wait for you —. You said and Bucky flashed you one last smile. He hadn't asked you to because he didn't want to be selfish but he was waiting for you to tell him so. Hearing you say that you’ll wait for him gave him the peace of mind he needed to breathe in the cold gas filling the cryostasis chamber.

#marvel #bucky barnes #winter soldier #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fluff #bucky angst #bucky smut #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #winter soldier fluff #winter soldier angst #winter soldier x you #winter solider x reader #sebastian stan #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #the avengers #avengers fluff #avengers fanfiction #marvel fluff #marvel angst #avengers x reader #marvel fanfiction #sebastian stan fluff #the falcon and the winter soldier

[bunnysbrainrot]

A Lesson in Manners

Relationship: Dean Winchester x f!Reader

Content: Romantic tension, protective Dean, alcohol consumption, a weird guy ft. the way Dean handles it.

Summary: After a long, exhausting day of hunting, Team Free Will unwinds with drinks at a nearby bar. You're enjoying your time until a stranger decides to pester you, but that won't go unnoticed by Dean.

The signature purr of the Impala faded as Dean turned off the ignition, releasing a heavy sigh, a defeated and tired noise. Whatever nasties they have down here in Georgia have been difficult. All signs in this case were pointing to a djinn, but without getting in closer, there was no way to be completely sure.

That risk was left to Sam and Dean, as they had told you yesterday, when the research finally fell into place.

Sam's lips pressed into a thin line as he stared at his laptop screen, his brows twitching. He deadpanned and looked to his brother, "Djinn. How the hell didn't we think of that yet?"

Dean matched Sam's frustration with a scoff. He simply shook his head.

Djinn were unfamiliar to you still. Though you had done a fair bit of research, helpfully guided by Sam, and learned quite a lot. But, you also knew that research and experience were very, very different for a hunter.

"Awesome, so... what?" Dean inquired, raising a brow at Sam. You sat in the small armchair in the boys' motel room, looking between them. "We gonna go into blood-sucking paradise-dream-world again?"

Sam flashed a quick smile, "Let's just hope it doesn't come to that. Do we have any more lamb's blood?"

Dean's expression changed to annoyance, "Not after that dickbag Balthazar used it for that stupid parallel-universe crap." He crossed his arms over his chest and threw his head back in thought. "And where are we supposed to get it, anyway? We're in the middle of friggin' nowhere."

"Cas?"

"If we could even get a hold of him."

"I'm sure he's still listening, Dean. I know he's been here and there for a while, but-" Sam explained.

Whirling to face his brother, Dean countered, "'Here and there'? Sam, we basically wait three to five business days for him to give us anything. If he's so focused on Heaven right now, let him stay up there."

You had seen Dean's rising upset with his friend for a few weeks now, seeing the angel's presence less and less. Castiel didn't indulge any details, and kept recollections vague - but, the lack of transparency had been taking a toll on the group.

He’d been absent for two weeks now. Nothing.

Dean's lengthy sigh showed his stress. He brought a hand up to his brow; Sam rolled his head to stretch his neck in the passenger seat.

"I need a fuckin' beer," Dean breathed.

You laid a hand on his shoulder from the seat directly behind his - Sam was more conversational on long drives, so sitting on the left side gave good distraction in the long hours on the road. Dean craned his neck to you, looking to you expectantly.

Because as much as he didn't like to admit it, Dean craved the moments when you touched him.

You couldn’t tell if you spooked him, judging by the way Dean froze in his seat, eyes boring directly into yours. A grin spread across your face, "Let's get shitfaced."

Dean shook his head and pointed to you, "You don't wanna get to shitfaced level with me, sweetheart. Just a few beers. Plus, I’ve seen you get tipsy even after one."

Each of you started stepped out of the Impala, respectively stretching your achy legs, or arms, or backs or neck and everything else. No matter the hunt, the soreness remained the same. You released a groan as you lean backward, flexing your stiffened spine. Dean neared and landed a gentle pat between your shoulders to get you moving along.

You noticed how quickly Dean pushed ahead to open the front door, before you had the chance to lift a finger. He looked into the cracked door - an assessing glaze cast over his eyes. Always on the lookout for danger.

Who could keep you safer than Dean Winchester?

After all of his impressive feats so far, it’d be hard for someone not to admire Dean. Saving the world was easier on the drawing board, and with having been to hell and back, you couldn’t fathom the willpower he gained to push past it. Not a semblance of that traumatic experience showed in that handsome, stoic face.

Dean pressed the door ajar to make way for you and Sam. You scanned the tables and stools at the bar; patrons scattered around in clusters, each chattering and laughing amongst themselves.

The thick smell of liquor filled the air. You noticed the hints of whiskey, oddly reminding you of Dean, and the way that scent mixed with his cologne. You memorized that smell from his occasional hugs, or times where you’d sit together, and you’d wondered if he could hear your heart hammering in your chest.

Sam led the way toward a taller table in the corner of the joint, settling in a stool closest to the back emergency exit. You eyed the stool at the outer side, but a creeping feeling dawns on you - someone is staring. Settling into your stool, you took the chance to swivel around, looking for the source of that persistent feeling.

At the bar, a man with a scruffy beard had his eyes trained on yours, roving over your form in the chair. You exhaled, fighting back the feeling of disgust, and turned back to Sam, plastering on a terse smile.

“What is it?” Sam asked, his brows furrowing in concern.

You paled slightly, the man’s stare still honed in on your back, “Dude at the bar has a staring problem.”

Sam leaned casually to reach for his pocket, craning his head for a swift second. A glint in his eye told you he’d found the perpetrator. Footsteps approached from behind - a familiar pattern, one you’d heard every day, and without turning you’d known it was Dean. A careful brush of his hand between your shoulder blades eased you, a gentle reminder he was here.

“Bottoms up, buttercup,” Dean teased, placing a shot of amber liquor in front of you, himself, and then his brother.

Three lime wedges rested on a plate, along with a salt shaker. You glance at Dean with a ‘seriously?’ look, and he gave a signature Winchester grin. You did say you wanted to get shitfaced. And hell, it could help with that looming creep. You licked the back of your hand and sprinkled some salt.

“To figuring something out,” you proclaimed, raising the shot glass. The boys follow your lead before clinking them on the table, and tossing their heads back.

The tequila burns the back of your throat, but the lime helps you ignore it. Sam held a steady face while Dean grimaced at the burn.

You giggled softly, “Can’t handle tequila, Dean?”

He flashed a toothy grin, and a quick middle finger. Your giggle evolved into a bright laugh that drew one from Sam, too.

“Bet you couldn’t handle pool, though,” countered Dean.

Sam eyed you from the side and threw a knowing smirk. You’d never back down from a challenge, especially when it was Dean testing you. There was a desire to beat him at his own games, to show him you could match his skill and then some.

Then there was the chase of it - cycles of teasing comments and passing glances, but never a break in the tension.

Your voice lowers, “I’ll take you on any day, Winchester.”

The jest made Dean grin. The chase was on again.

Sam stayed behind when you and Dean claimed a vacant pool table, letting you set yourselves up for the perfect one-on-one.

Dean nodded to you and eyed the cue ball. You bend at the waist over the table, and felt the creeping feeling again. It radiated along your spine to the nape of your neck, as if your body was set ablaze under the stranger’s stare.

Until suddenly, you had company.

“Say, think you could spare me a game when you’re done, beautiful?”

The voice matched the face. It was nasally with a copious amount of douchery; another entitled asshole who got involved when he wasn’t wanted.

Across the table, Dean’s brow twitched.

“Listen bud, we’re just getting started here. Plenty of other folks in here who can play you,” the edge in Dean’s tone was a warning in and of itself.

You hitched a breath awaiting the man’s reaction.

Out of the corner of your eye you spotted Sam sliding off his barstool, slowly making his way closer to your pool table. He idly looked at his phone, but kept a watchful glance.

“I’m sure you’ll have the time for another one, right, baby?” The stranger’s words slurred stupidly. He didn’t address Dean with meeting his stare, and instead fought to have yours. He closed the gap between you two further - the smell of alcohol lingered on him, thick and nauseating.

You bark, “You’ve got ten seconds.”

“Oh…. hic… ten seconds ain’t enough for me, sweetheart..”

Dean’s voice was taunting, probably trying to pull the dickbag away from you, “It’s plenty for us.”

Finally, the man looked to Dean, straightening his posture at the height difference. He was lean, but couldn’t hold a firm stance, by the looks of it. The man scanned Dean top to bottom before turning back to you.

Before crossing a crucial line.

A foreign hand stroked your spine, making you recoil. Anger contorted your features as you warned him yourself.

“Try that again, fucker,” you spat with disgust. You could still feel the touch on your back. Gross.

The man’s lips tug into a smile, and the anger continued to brew. Of course, you were not the only one with that bubbling rage. Dean has closed the distance before you could register he’d moved at all.

Dean loomed over the man with a haunting glare. To add fuel to the fire, the man had the gall to grin at the threat, raising his hands to Dean’s chest.

“Come on, jus’ gavin’ a lil’ fun,” said the stranger.

In one swift motion, Dean collected the man’s wrists with one hand, and delivered a hook with the other.

The blow knocked his head to the side. Other patrons turned to the scene unfolding - some turned back to their drinks, some kept staring. You gasped when Dean landed another strike, sending the man tumbling to the floor with a resounding thud.

“Dean, that’s enough, he’s-“

He didn’t react to your objection.

Behind the commotion, Sam’s eyes widen with shock, though he smiles with satisfaction at the takedown.

A final shove put enough distance between you and the pathetic drunk. You turned to see the bartender giving Dean a stern look, but they return to filling a pint glass.

You panted softly while the stranger walked away, bracing his bloodied chin with his hand. You looked to Dean and found his attention back at the pool table, letting out a frustrated grunt. There wasn’t a way to thank him. No need. The man had made great strides in protecting you, enough to reassure that you didn’t have to offer thanks. It came naturally, protecting one another.

Sam made his way back to the table and returned to his stool, shaking his head in disbelief, a smile on his face.

What a night, right?

It was Dean’s voice that brought you back to your senses. That same voice that calmed you, that ignited your body to its core.

“Alright, sweetheart, you go first.”

——

“Dammit, whathefuck- that isn’t fair-“ you protested. You’d lost, but kept trying to knock the striped pool balls into the pockets, insisting that there was some sort of rule to let you go until you were fully done, including the cue ball.

Sam handed you a glass of water, which you sipped on immediately. Your fingertips slowly grew numb against the cold glass.

Dean chortled as he collected the pool balls, “Shitfaced and pool don’t mix well, do they?”

You let out a tipsy laugh and shake your head at him. The moment stilled, where the rest of the scene faded away. Dean scanned you over, and held a too-long look. A small spark lit behind his eyes.

“Let’s getcha home.”

Thank you for reading! I liked this idea, and I think it could easily have a second part. Vote in the poll or me know in the comments if you’d like to see where this goes!

#fanfiction #supernatural #spnfandom #spn #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural smut #bunny writes #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader

[mintmatcha]

Inevitable Things: chapter five

Aizawa x reader fic

cw: cisfem reader, no quirks, office au, miscommunications, slow burn. full tags available on AO3 (linked in masterlist)

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter

Fridays are the only day you carve out time for lunch. Less than coincidentally, Fridays are also the only day lunch is catered.

“Here-” Izuku jams his bowl of take out into Katsuki’s face. “Does it smell like there’s peanuts in here?”

Bakugo Katsuki, Izuku’s fiance, is only half as ornery as he looks. A premature wrinkle has formed in between his brows, a sign of his almost constant annoyance. His straw colored hair is a sharp contrast to his deep red eyes, currently narrowed in disgust.

“Get this shit out of my fucking face,” he groans. “I’m not a fucking allergy alert dog-- I can’t smell peanuts.”

“To be fair-” Ochako interjects through a mouthful. She’s the opposite of Katsuki: dark hair, round eyes, a smile so sweet that it makes your teeth hurt. Her cheeks are always flushed, spots of broken blood vessels spattered like freckles. “Peanuts do have a smell.”

“Did you ask him to smell for penis?” Denki says, too loud to be genuine. “Kind of homophobic to ask a gay guy that.”

Both men give him identical deadpan stares.

“That’s just his fucking country-ass accent.” Katsuki brushes Denki off and turns back to the curly haired man. “Why would chicken have peanuts in it anyway?”

“The o’l.” Izuku stresses.

“The what?”

“Some places use peanut o’l.”

“Say oil.”

Izuku sneers a bit in return, smoothing out the curves of his accent. “Oy-I’ll.”

“Jesus christ, I’m marrying a hick.” Katsuki leans back in his chair and meets your eye with a jerk of his chin. “Can you believe this?”

You snap back into focus. Your own lunch is untouched, fork still in its little plastic wrapper. Hunger nips at your stomach, but nausea wins over today. The cafeteria isn’t very busy, but in the next couple minutes everyone will start pouring in. The lot of you arrived early to get the best seating-- a little couch and coffee table in the corner, a perfect place to eat and people watch.

“Oh, yeah, uh- Izuku, they have an allergen free option.”

“Well, yeah, but-” He tilts his head as he talks, watching you with those wide, green eyes, like he sees something just below the surface. “It doesn't have chicken-- are you good?”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you.” Katsuki fingers a piece of Izuku’s food and pops it into his mouth, much to the man’s dismay. “You’ve been making that sad little face all day.”

You pout a bit harder at that. Shit-- you thought you were being subtle. You haven’t been able to walk this whole Aizawa thing off yet, despite all of your attempts. No amount of emails, meetings, and other petty office bullshit managed to distract you from the absolute shock and humiliation of… whatever that was.

Embarrassment.

Embarrassment? You’re certainly not the prettiest girl in the office, but embarrassing? That makes your gums ache, like a punch to the nose, and it makes you feel dirty, like the fall to the ground afterwards.

“You’re doing it again.” Ochako points to your face and it’s apparently sadness. “What’s going on?”

You hem a bit, before condensing it the best you can.

“I’m having issues with a guy.” What an understatement.

A collective glance is shared between the group.

“Touya again?”

Again, Touya haunts a room he’s never been in. You debate what to say. If you admit to it being someone new, they might start sniffing around and jump to conclusions-- though Aizawa would certainly be the last assumption they would make, you still can’t risk it. Besides, you don’t need a gaggle of 23 year olds dissecting your every move. They’re going to jump to some stupid conclusion, like you’re dating Toshinori, if you aren’t careful.

“Yeah, it’s Touya,” you lie, as sheepishly as you can. “Oops.”

“Jesus Fucking Christ.” Katsuki rolls his eyes so hard that you imagine his brain must hurt. “Again?”

“Shh, just tell us what happened,” Izuku urges, elbowing his partner rather sharply.

“I don't know where I stand with him. It's so-- Ugh, I thought things were going to start going well and then it was just ice cold.” You press your palms into your eyes and sigh. The pressure feels good and helps with the remnants of your hangover. You need an electrolyte drink, stat. Maybe another fucking drink too. “And I’m not even sure why I’m surprised because it’s ice cold a lot.”

When you look up, Ochako is offering a hand, palm up and open. When you take it, she giggles a bit, squeezing gently.

“I think you need to prioritize yourself.”

Denki nods in agreement, cheeks stuffed with food. He’s finished his meal and started stabbing bits of yours. You just push the whole bowl towards him in defeat and slump down into the couch.

“Stop giving men who treat you poorly the time of day.” Ochako says. “When you let them in again and again, you’re basically, like, giving them permission to do this stuff.”

“Yeah!” Denki says through a mouthful. “Cut that fucker off! Don’t even talk to him!”

“Oh, I dunno--” You glance between them. “I think that’d be mean.”

Conflict makes your head spin. It’s so much easier to roll over and take whatever people give you, negative or otherwise. It’s what made your relationship with Touya work-- and it’s what’s allowed you to stay in this job for so long.

“Good!” Denki says. “He deserves it.”

“You deserve to be a little mean and a little angry when people treat you poorly.” She smiles again, wider this time. “Grow some balls. Stand up for yourself.”

“Yeah! Balls!” Denki agrees.

You suck on your bottom lip and turn the idea over in your head. Are you even angry at Aizawa? Or just hurt and confused? Right now, those things may as well be the same thing-- they certainly burn the same in your chest. Cruelty isn’t your usual indulgence…

But it’s someone else’s.

“What do you think?” You turn to Katsuki, who’s been scrolling through twitter for a bit now. His face doesn’t change when he speaks, locked into a general annoyance.

“I think you should kill that fucker.”

You turn to Izuku, the rational one of the couple. He shrugs, straw in mouth and completely unamused.

“Oh, I also think you should kill him,” he says, tone matching Katsuki’s.

Not helpful.

“Listen--” Katsuki leans forward, elbows on his spread knees. He uses a fork to articulate as he speaks. “I’m the expert on being a cunt-”

“-we don’t use that word!” Ochako grimaces.

“And it’s the most freeing and addictive thing you can be.” The tongs of the fork point directly towards you, as sharp as his gaze. “More people should be cunts more often. The world would be a happier place.”

Ochako gasps. “I don’t agree with that at all!”

“Oh please, miss goody-goody,” Katsuki sneers. “You wouldn't need to go to kickboxing five times a week if you let your anger out day to day like a normal motherfucker.”

The girl of the group puffs out her cheeks, but does not argue back. Izuku pats her shoulder affectionately. His food is still untouched, but his free hand guards it from Denki.

“I'm telling you. Try it out. You’ll like it.” Katsuki leans back into his seat. “Or don't. Your life.”

“Question-” The other blonde pipes up. “Did you, like, do something?”

“Kaminari!”

“I mean, like, was there a catalyst?” “A fight or a date or-?”

You know exactly what drives Touya away everytime, but Aizawa is a new beast. Did you breathe wrong or--

“Oh, I uh,” A realization hits you. “I ignored a couple texts, I guess.”

Suddenly, you’re very aware of the outline of your phone and how it presses into your pocket. If there wasn’t a chance of you flashing the group pictures of their boss, you’d check it immediately, but you can’t mentally handle the risk.

“What an overreaction,” Ochako sighs. “Dump him forever and move on-- Mr. Hizashi and his wife-”

“We aren’t like that.” Ugh. You love Hizashi, but the trio relationship isn’t your speed. “Besides, I don’t like blondes.”

The two toe-heads of the group roll their eyes in a practiced synchrony. Ochako’s smile changes a little bit, something tighter and brighter; is she excited that you aren’t interested? Interesting and a bit gross: she’s too young for that. They’re more than ten years older than her-

(How old is Aizawa? He went to school with Hizashi, so he’s at least 38-- but you could have sworn there were whispers of his fortieth last year. You’ll have to snoop.)

“We’re in agreement. Be a cunt, move on. The end.” Katsuki turns away from you, done with this topic. “Izuku, just fucking eat it already.”

The boy takes a deep breath and runs his fingers through his curly hair. “Well, alright, but if I get hives, you’re the one who has to deal with me.”

…

Be mean.

You’re written it on a sticky note and placed it under your computer monitor, like some sort of fucked up mantra. The mere idea of it feels antithetical to who you are at your core; you enjoy helping people, you love making the world better. That’s why you work like a dog for the company-- you know it’s improving the lives of its customers. If Toshinori wasn’t sick, you know he’d be doing even more too.

On the other hand, being nice has led to your own detriment many times. Touya has hurt you, your parents, and now even Aizawa. And you can’t even blame Aizawa, can you? Texting him was your mistake--

You rest your forehead against your desk. There’s still a sticky spot from when you spilled your coffee yesterday. God, yesterday feels so close and yet so far away. How does a man yoyo between yelling at you, sending you his weiner, then telling you that you’re embarrassing? The idea of ‘always wanted you’ goes flying out the window.

Just as you try and put yourself to work, you hear it. The familiar lopsided stomp. Fuck, it’s him, probably looking for his afternoon coffee. He’s been by much less than usual, a fact you’re very grateful for, so you haven’t even thought about the pot since before lunch. You glance over and see it’s empty. Crap.

As you start to get up, the sticky note catches your eye again. Be mean. That’s right. Why are you popping out of your chair for this, this, this--- total fucking cunt? Your chair squeaks with the force you sit down with. You try to embody Katsuki with your face - furrowing your brow and yet keeping your mouth unaffected-- and your worst nightmare turns the corner.

You keep typing and hope Aizawa doesn't notice that it's the same words over and over again, hit in the same rhythm. P-e-a-n-u-t-O-i-l P-e-a-n-u-t-O-i-l P-e-a-n-u-t-O-i-l P-e-a-n-u-t-O-i-l. He waits a long moment, then clears his throat louder. You don't gift him your attention until he grumbles something under his breath, shifting his weight on to his other leg. Just as he begins to say something, you interject.

“I had more important things to focus on,” you lie. “You can figure out how to brew coffee, Mr.// Engineer.”

You throw in that last bit without thinking, but the bite rolls so easily off of your tongue. It’s nothing like your usual tone, but it feels so, so right. From the corner of your vision you can see his literally reel back, blinking hard,

“That’s how it’s going to be?”

You don’t respond. P-e-a-n-u-t-O-i-l P-e-a-n-u-t-O-i-l P-e-a-n-u-t-O-i-l P-e-a-n-u-t-O-i-l. Your fingers shake from the adrenaline boost. Ochako was right; don't even give this man the time of day.

“It's going to be like that?” He yanks the pot from its stand. “Fine.”

You have to muster all of willpower not to grin as he starts slamming open the drawers and scrounging around for supplies. It takes a whole ten minutes before he presses brew, then another five before the pot is almost half full. The whole time he grumbles to himself, leaning his whole weight against the flimsy table.

This is good. Too good. The vindictive rush of power feels almost sexual in the way it satisfies. Teeth dig into your lip as you hold back a smile even harder.

Embarrassment? You'll show him what embarrassment really means.

Finally, he pours himself a cup. He doesn't fill his thermos nearly as much as he normally does, most likely trying to leave as quickly as possible. Just as he starts to turn, you get up out of your chair and walk over. You take one of the little disposable cups from the stack and take your time adding three sugars and two cream, each one at a time, as he lurks there. Then, you pour the coffee, thick and oddly gritty into your cup. You finally meet his eye when you take a swig.

Aizawa’s face is set hard, small eyes narrowed even tighter. His lips are screwed up with annoyance, wrinkling his low bridged nose. Pissed would be an understatement. Just as you brace for another yelling match, he turns away, marching down the hall.

“Enjoy the fucking coffee.”

Oh, Katsuki was right. Being mean tastes good.

….This coffee, however, does not.

[dduane]

What are your thoughts on companies like this that offer 'coaching services' for hopeful unpublished novelists?

This smells of scam to me but maybe I'm just a cynic:

Publishing Your Book

Query Letter Coaching/Editing – $550 per book (this includes two passes)

Synopsis Coaching & Editing – $750 per book (this includes two passes)

Proposal Coaching & Editing – $1,500 per book

Traditional Publishing Coaching – $200/hour (finding an agent, crafting your proposal, etc.)

Indie Publishing – $1000 (distribution to all platforms for optimal international exposure, guidance on pricing, blurb-writing, logistics, and keywords)

ISBNs for Indie Publishing – $150 per book format. Free if publishing through [the company selling these coaching services]

Briefly: before I got involved with any such operation, I'd want to talk to (multiple) people they'd worked with previously and find out what kinds of experiences they'd had. And in line with this, I'd be extremely cautious about any operation that wasn't run by professionals with a verifiable track record, and which wouldn't offer verifiable examples of feedback from people whose reality as non-sockpuppets could also be confirmed. And whom you could contact without having to go through the company in question.

On other issues: I'm looking kind of askance at some of those prices. (Here adding the disclaimer: I know people who do this kind of work out of a grounding of significant expertise and in good faith, and I'm not clear on what they're charging because I haven't really looked into it... not particularly needing it myself at this late stage in the game.)

At least part of the problem I'm having with the prices being charged in your example is based on the knowledge of how very much information of this kind is available free online. And yeah, there's the old chestnut about "The advice is worth what you've paid for it"... but that has sort of an unspoken negative corollary: "Except when you've paid for it and it nonetheless turns out not to have been worth much."

The trouble with the non-independent-publishing suggestions is that all of them deal with imponderables. Even if all the advice you purchase from those people at all those varied prices is absolutely right on the money, there's still no way to guarantee that any of it is going to lead to success in getting query letters, synopses or proposals actually looked at. Which puts this whole concept squarely in the nature of a gamble.

Not that luck doesn't have a role to play in a professional writing career. Sometimes you're just standing in the right place at the right time with a manuscript in your hands. But getting the idea that you can depend on that luck for any reason is unwise... as divine Fortuna is anciently famous for wandering all over the room, blowing on other folks' dice. (And if this makes me sound like I fall well down on the "Fortune Favors The Prepared" end of the spectrum: yeah, that.)

My advice would be to spend a good long while online, thoroughly researching all the free sites that have info to offer on all the traditional-publishing-facing topics. Then, after exhausting the available possibilities, if you still think you need to engage paid professional assistance... make inquiries among as many verifiable professionals as you can non-invasively query, before parting with any money at all.

As regards the indie-oriented fees: I'm finding those pretty steep. The prices for ISBNs in particular bother me. (Especially since in many places you can routinely buy packages of ten for about what these folks would charge you for two.) Yes, they're free if you publish with them: that sounds lovely. But publishers would normally buy many of those packages of ten. Or packages of a hundred: the more ISBNs you buy at once, the cheaper they get. And if you're paying the company for other services, who cares about the ISBNs? They're making money off you in different ways. Possibly equally overpriced ones.

So to finish: this is very much caveat emptor territory. There will inevitably be scammers out there, claiming their rates to be less than "bigger companies" are charging, but still too much. Therefore... advance only with utmost care.

...And adding this: @petermorwood glanced at the price list over my shoulder and said, "I wouldn't touch any of those with a barge pole."

At any rate: HTH!

...And now a word regarding our regrettably fickle non-sponsor, via Ol' Blue Eyes. :)

#writing #writing advice #paying for breaking-in coaching #writing meta

[theminecraftbee]

just revisited scs, and was wondering if pearl still joins hermitcraft in season 8 as she does? and if so, what are three's thoughts and feelings on this? if we go by hermitcraft rules, it'd have to had voted her in, and it does care about pearl in some capacity due to her link with martyn and jimmy so it'd want her somewhere safe, but is their relationship still rocky at that point? has it gotten better? and how does it evolve through their time on hermitcraft? is boatem still a thing, or do three and pearl give each other more space?

sorry if you've answered something like this before, but i'm curious

so here's how it goes in my head, although as always, anyone is free to have their own headcanons for it:

so by season eight, given the messy timeline i've created, three has had some time and distance. additionally, i like to think that it and everyone else DID keep up their promises to stay in contact. pearl and three's relationship will probably never be as close as pearl and grian's, but pearl is TRYING and three is willing to give her a shot when they're not standing right next to each other and she isn't in the middle of grief as much, so they form a tentative bond.

pearl doesn't join season eight because of three; three doesn't invite her. however, i'd like to think that pearl, maybe on the prodding of "her friends are actually talking to her again", has tentatively started doing her own builds again and showing them off and something like that dragon build of her blows up. so when names are being floated for season eight, and someone's already floated gem as a possibility, someone says pearl's name. and three doesn't know. three doesn't know if they'll be able to handle each other living on the same server. but it's now been at least a year and a half since scs and with scs's messy timeline probably longer, right. three is much more self-assured and has a better idea of who it is. and like, it thinks about it, but maybe pearl gives away she's still living on evo in a call, and three thinks about it, and...

the thing is: three had needed someone to say "you can come here when you run away" two years ago about the same thing. it can at least try.

this is to say: pearl joining hermitcraft is not three's idea or three's invitation. but three gives her its endorsement, and eventually its vote. pearl joins in season eight. three and pearl then proceed to try to completely avoid each other for like, at least a month. i don't want to take pearl and impulse bonding away from the world, so i think maybe pearl still bases near there, but the friendship groups in three's timeline are a little shifted ANYWAY, even if they're similar, so we can shift people around a little. maybe three drags mumbo off to go follow iskall and etho into the shattered savannah. god, can you imagine, actually, that would be hysterical.

but the thing is, even though the hermits spend a lot of time alone, they also spend a lot of time together, and like... three IS friends with impulse. and it is Conspicuous that they're avoiding each other, and they can't do it forever. it's pearl who screws her courage to the sticking place first and invites three to help her with an interior room of her build. three, not actually quite good enough at emotions to recognize "here come do an interior, thing i know grian hated but you like" as the very deliberate olive branch it is but good enough at emotions to know it probably shouldn't avoid, accepts.

and it goes... well. it surprises both of them how well it goes, actually. maybe it shouldn't; they've been in contact after all, and they've had time to soothe and process their relationship. they part back to their own bases again with the promise to do it again, and they do not avoid each other for the rest of the season. they don't seek each other out, often--they're not quite ready for that--but they don't avoid each other, either.

it's not perfect. pearl still sometimes looks at three like she's looking at a dead man. three still sometimes wants to scream when she does.

but there are many times, now, when they can forget how they met in the first place, and just chat about build pallets and pranks and shapes and llamas and everything else together.

that's close enough to healing.

#answered #solving counting sheep talk #THANK YOU FOR THIS. I HAVE THOUGHTS.

[autistichalsin]

I tried to have this conversation a few weeks ago and it didn't go well, so after giving it time to calm down I am bringing it up now on my own page, about the importance of allowing fans who can't afford the game, or who otherwise can't play for themself due to disabilities, etc, a space in the fandom. And in particular, this involves deconstructing the idea that Let's Plays aren't a valid way to experience this media, and that people who didn't purchase the game don't belong here, both of which are harmful, classist, ableist ideas.

(Tone: genuine. Not angry or aggressive, but passionate.)

I want to say that as much as I enjoy playing BG3 and am glad I bought it, there really isn't anything that I have gained, in terms of understanding of the plot, lore, characters, relationships, etc, that I didn't already have when I was watching Let's Plays and using the datamined dialogues exclusively. Nor has my emotional experience been significantly different in any measurable way. I mean, I WAS very happy to recruit and romance Halsin in a way that I didn't feel when I watched a Let's Play, but that's it. It didn't change my understanding of, or feelings towards, him at all. I knew Halsin's entire story before, and I knew his entire story after, too. My feelings on each and every one of Halsin's scenes has remained exactly the same.

There wasn't any character I thought was a bad guy who I saw something new in when I played for myself, or vice-versa. I didn't have any paradigm shifts in my understanding of the plot. The bad guy was still a Nether Brain controlled by the Chosen of the Dead Three in each playthrough. The good guys were still a group of traumatized weirdos (/affectionate). Astarion was still a victim of rape and slavery, Shadowheart was still a cult escapee, and Halsin still struggled with the burdens of leadership. There were still choices that could make the companions bar Jaheira and Minsc fall in love with you, and choices that could make them despise you. There were still choices that could push some of the characters to be better or worse versions of themselves. There were still a lot of notes and books to pick up, some of which were important to the lore, some of which provided random factoids about bit characters you may find interesting or may find useless, and many of which were completely useless and a waste of inventory space. I didn't learn anything new in the informational sense, about the plot, the characters, the flow of the game, nothing.

(Well, there was ONE different thing, which was that I ended up being an edge case where I accidentally shot Lae'zel with my arrow when trying to free her and got yelled at by her for it. Does that actually count as a unique-to-playing revelation though? Everyone who watched me stream that day would have learned about it too.)

I didn't experience some overwhelming emotional shift in response to the events onscreen that wasn't there when I watched Let's Play, either, which is also an argument that has been made. There's been a case presented that it's not so much that the events themselves change but that playing somehow alters your emotional response which affects how you view the plot and characters. But that didn't happen for me, either. I didn't go from "I do not care one single solitary fuck about Barcus Wroot" to "oh my god I will give this poor liddol guy the world." I still do not care about him. I didn't go from "yay, the moon lesbians are free!" to some sort of more intense emotion like "omg I'm going to cry now!" I still love them and am happy they're free, but hardly moved to tears. I didn't go from "fuck Orin" to "MEGA fuck Orin." Making the choices and fighting the battles myself didn't change anything for me in that sense. There was no emotion I hadn't already felt before that came to me in my own playthrough. Every emotion I had when watching a Let's Play was almost exactly the same when I played the game for myself.

If anything, the only real change was that I started to have annoyance as a sort of background radiation for about 90% of the companions because I kept accidentally talking to them when trying to click on items and things, and I got really fucking tired of hearing their greetings? "Shut up, Astarion, I wanted to loot the corpse, not talk to you, please back the fuck up. Why is my party always halfway up my ass? Personal space, guys?" Otherwise nope.

My understanding of canon, my understanding of the characters, my emotional resonance to the events that happened, those were all exactly the same. I literally don't know what people are referring to when they say that there was some magical new dimension of feeling that can only be unlocked when you are the one playing. Whatever that magic was certainly wasn't there for me, and that disproves the idea it's "impossible" to fully experience the game through LPs, because having played the game, I can say that I DID get the full experience through LPs. Maybe some people can't get the full feel of things by watching, which is 100% valid, but some people very much can. I did both, and I can tell you that they conferred 98% similar intellectual and emotional experiences.

In fact, I'd argue that there's more of a difference between playing as a Tav or an Origin vs playing as a Dark Urge than there is between playing yourself vs watching an LP, but I don't often see the case made that people who haven't completed a Durge playthrough don't understand the game properly and therefore can't/shouldn't contribute their analyses/interpretations of canon to the fandom. And I mean, there is some HEAVY lore you only get in a Durge playthrough. You would have a FAR better case that completing/watching a Durge playthrough is the event that marks you as understanding/having a complete knowledge of canon than you would that playing the game yourself instead of watching someone else do it is, though I still wouldn't ultimately agree that it's a prequisite.

People who watch LPs are valid, your way of experiencing the game is valid, and don't let anyone else tell you otherwise because honestly, people who gatekeep are never worth listening to in the first place. The idea that your understanding becomes more complete when playing yourself isn't true for everyone. You can say they weren't the same experience for you, and that is PERFECTLY valid and understandable, but that's only you. You can't say what others are and aren't able to feel when playing vs watching Let's Plays. The only correct statement here is "some people are able to fully comprehend the plot through Let's Plays, and some aren't, and the mode of consuming the game ultimately doesn't determine whether a person belongs here. Both groups still belong in the fandom and have just as valid opinions to contribute as the others."

Further, I have seen absolutely brilliant, on-point analyses from people who only watched Let's Plays, and absolutely horrible, nuclear hot takes from people who spend all day playing the game. Just the other day, for example, I legitimately witnessed a Redditor VEHEMENTLY argue that 1. There was a scene in the game where Halsin called Thaniel "beautiful", 2. This nonexistent scene was ABSOLUTE proof that Halsin was a pedophile, and 3. Halsin's time as a sex slave had clearly caused him to become a pedophile. People who had seen only the intro of the game on an LP would STILL have a better understanding of canon than this person who claimed to have played dozens of times. If we're going to judge people's understanding of the game, it should be based on the understanding their posts convey directly, not based on assumptions about who can absorb what amount of information through what mode of consuming the game.

So I repeat: LP watchers, you're fine. Enjoy fandom in a way you can experience. You shouldn't be locked out of discussion of the game just because you can't afford hundreds of dollars for a game system. To suggest otherwise would be appallingly cruel and exclusionary behavior, on the level of saying bootleg watchers can't be part of discussions about Broadway shows. You all belong. You don't have to buy your way into a fandom space.

And bringing it to that issue: yes, Let's Plays ARE an absolute necessity for both poor people and for people with certain disabilities (blindness, since the game doesn't have a narrative-only mode, and severe disabilities affecting the hands being the two that jump to mind right away). Gatekeeping fandom from poor people based on whether they've bought an expensive game and gaming setup, much like being an anti-bootleg Broadway fan, serves the sole purpose of shaming and punishing poor fans for not properly engaging in the capitalist system. I know the intention isn't to gatekeep the poor and people with certain disabilities from the fandom, but that ends up being the effect when this particular argument gets made.

[atopvisenyashill]

seeing how some greens act like rhaenyra being groomed by her uncle, and subsequently being unable to let go of him, is HER personal failure turned me into a rhaenyra extremist when i simply enjoyed her character beforehand.

im really glad you're speaking about it because even though it's fiction, it still perpetuates a very dangerous rhetoric

wait this gives me an excuse to ramble, pls excuse me if i phrase things maybe a little crassly here, it’s a delicate topic i’m speaking indelicately about but also, i think i should be allowed bc [redacted] BUT-

obviously i don’t like, love, some of the changes to the show but i think the first half does a great job of setting it up to where you can see both alicent and rhaenyra are surrounded exclusively by much older men who want to fuck them, and have just no way of knowing who is being genuine with them. because no one is really! so you have episode 4, where alicent is sleeping in a room with pornographic art on the wall and being called to her husband’s bed and she can’t say no, and he’s not going to do anything to make the whole thing even marginally easier for her. and then you have rhaenyra, pulled from her bed by her uncle to a brothel, and she’s completely exposed, and she’s experiencing new things, and he’s purposefully trying to make this feel good but also overwhelming for her, then abandons her drunk & confused & half naked. this is The Same Thing - they’re both being used and manipulated by a much older man, but because that manipulation looks different, they react different. but it’s still manipulation.

yes, the type of abuse is different when it’s like, your ugly ancient grandpa grooming you vs a handsome 30 year old stranger you met online that you tell all your high school friends is your boyfriend, but ultimately, both the grandpa and the 30 year old boyfriend are abusers but more importantly, the granddaughter and the high schooler are both victims!!! i think a lot of people when analyzing this whole thing, will pin daemon as a groomer but then completely forget that this also makes rhaenyra a victim. some people will even hee hee haw haw over it because “oh your feminist icon would rather marry her groomer uncle than her gay cousin in the book” DO YOU HEAR YOURSELF. could it possibly be that rhaenyra prefers daemon to laenor because daemon has manipulated her into thinking she is only free with him? she is only safe with him?? could it possibly be that he has been giving her gifts and taking physical liberties with her for her whole life, and being the Good Cop, Sweet Confidant to her parents Bad Cop her whole life, that she feels taken in by him because he is all she knows???? in the same vein that alicent just swallows all the poison and bullshit from otto because that’s her father, and his protection is all she knows????

honestly part of like ~the discourse~ that’s most frustrating is that most greens just refuse to see rhaenyra’s pov or see that she’s also a grooming victim grasping for power to protect her own children, again just like alicent, but on the flip side, most of the analysis from the blacks side is like “if you think nyra is a victim of grooming you are just as bad as the people calling her a whore for having children out of wedlock” and like, how do you even engage with that. with either of those opinions. you can’t wksjd so if youre, ya know, like a normal fucking person who can see how both girls are being manipulated, but you have like a fondness for nyra specifically, it’s just constant bad takes. there’s nowhere to go to escape the bad takes.

i thought we had already hashed out this idea that being aware or unaware of your victimhood doesn’t suddenly mean you’re not being oppressed during the main show with arya and sansa but no, we’ve actually just taken this exact same annoying fandom discourse about which teenage girl is dealing with being abused in the most acceptable way and made it a thousand times worse.

#and like the ~analysis~ side will be like ‘nyra is a dumb bitch for trusting daemon’ but if you said that about ali and larys you’d get shot #and i’m not even exaggerating the way people talk about her it’s always this ‘she should have known better’ HOW #if u get that ali couldn’t have ever known better when it comes to her own kids. why does this not apply to nyra. #perhaps………….it is bc you cannot concieve of her as anything but the aggressor. #asks #anons

[arliedraws]

I feel like so much of what I try to explore in my fics about Sirius whether it’s Slytherin Sirius or whump is how bullshit “sacrifice” is when it comes to love. Dying and suffering for someone only takes you away from the people who need you. Diminishing yourself for someone does nothing. It proves nothing. I have a HUGE problem with this in the books.

This comes up a lot in my job as a teacher. I am NOT going to sacrifice my free time and devote my life to my job. I am a good teacher, and my students need me to keep coming to school. If I burn out and sacrifice my life to teaching, I will not be able to come back and be there for them.

Yes, sometimes you DO need to sacrifice personal time/freedom for someone else, but if you do this consistently, you are modeling unhealthy behavior and demonstrating that your time/health doesn’t matter. We have a duty to each other, but you’ve got to have boundaries too.

With Sirius, I am trying to push back on this narrative. His death in OotP does not serve Harry—in fact, if Sirius had lived, many of the events of HBP and DH would have been VERY different. Anyway, my point is, I get so irritated by the idea that dying saves anyone. Obviously there are exceptions to everything in story, but damn, sacrifice is often just so pointless. Sirius is SO DEVOTED to Harry, but this one-track mind does not serve either of them in the end. I live for Sirius and Harry, and you can put your child first, but you are also a person and you matter too. This is an example of how our greatest strengths can be our weakness too.

#just reflecting on why i always make sirius so sad in fics #he’s just so lost #he doesn’t know what he wants for himself

[sethshead]

To free Palestine from Israel, first we must free Palestine from Hamas. Hamas is a force that abuses and oppresses Palestinians. It murders, tortures, and disappears dissenters, opponents, LGBTQ, civil rights and peace activists, and anyone who resists its power, including respected Islamic clerics. It allows women few rights save to be the brood mares for more shuhud. It steals food donations and resells them at inflated prices to the rich, provokes Israel only to then hide behind civilians, and denies civilians anyplace to hide. Hamas is a death cult. A Palestine under its rule, whether within the pre-‘67 borders or from the river to the sea, would be a violent, criminal, gangster failed state.

Yes, Israeli leadership must also change. Likud has never been willing to part with “Judea and Samaria”, no matter how much grief that causes Israelis within the pre-‘67 borders. Netanyahu has been a consummate bad-faith actor, and even the country’s more dovish leaders have still wanted to manipulate the “facts on the ground” to make final negotiations more advantageous to Israel. It is certainly past time for Israel to stop playing games with the futures of two peoples. But Likud can be and has been voted out. The same is not true of Hamas.

I accept that Hamza Howidy is not necessarily representative of the Palestinian electorate. I do not tokenize him; I simply agree with is observations and conclusions. Though most Palestinians do still demand a river-to-sea state or “right of return” (which in practical terms amount to the same thing), Howidy recognizes the obvious. Israel is going nowhere, nor are the Palestinians. Jews and Palestinian Arabs have connections to the land. Each possesses a kind of indigeneity and a right to self-determination in the land of their national origin, whenever that was. Neither wishes to live under the rule of the other.

Any one-state solution is foolhardy, an invitation to further conflict and bloodshed. None who desire that can legitimately be called a friend to Palestinians or Israelis. Recognizing the legitimacy of both of our national aspirations and finding a way to bring us together as neighboring states in respectful peace is the only thing that could remotely be called a victory for either side. If you and all your chants, slogans, rhetoric, and demands do not amount to that, you are doing more harm than good to both peoples.

[grandlinedreams]

|| hey remember that thing I said abt boot riding and condescending, mean Coop :)

|| notes: unestablished timeline, could be seen as pre or post s1, reader can be whatever they want, waves hand something something idk man I've got it so bad for this guy also HEY. MDNI. BIG TIME. YOU'VE BEEN WARNED.

|| warnings: pretty much pwp, oral (m receiving), cum eating/swallowing, cursing, boot riding, Cooper is mean, hair pulling, afab reader i guess

Cooper isn't sure if it's the oppressive heat, the lack of decent drinking water or food that isn't roasted radroach to blame for your attitude, or if it's something else entirely ㅡ but you've found his last nerve over the last couple hours and are determined to rip it to shreds.

Part of him says he could save himself some long term trouble and put a bullet in your head, but he won't for two reasons. One, that's a waste of ammo. And two, he likes having you around.

You're a good companion, when you aren't in such a piss-poor mood. But it's that mood that's the current issue ㅡ and so, Cooper comes up with his own solution when you get just a little too mouthy for his liking.

"Come on now sweetheart," he grunts, voice low as he watches you, "you can take it, can't you?"

Your answer is garbled for the length currently occupying your mouth, tip of him pushed far enough that it threatens to gag you. Cooper doesn't think he's seen anything prettier than the tears in your eyes over his cock in your mouth.

He groans when you swallow around him, fists a hand tight into your hair to guide you ㅡ and the way you squirm also catches his attention. But one thing at a time, and he isn't about to give you whatever it is you think you deserve until after he's done.

He tells you so, eyes glinting as you whine around him, sound silenced by the rough jerk of his hips. "Come on, sweet thing," he coos, mocking as he cups your chin, thumbs at the bead of drool that slides from the corner of your mouth, "not gettin' shit if you can't behave."

This isn't the first time he's been in your mouth, nor will it be the last ㅡ but the pitiful look on your face only furthers his pleasure as he bucks, listens as you choke and gag around him.

His head tips back as you suck, fist tightening in your hair as you slide your tongue over the underside of him, the steady pulse as his breath hitches a little. "Fuck," he huffs, "see? Told you I'd find somethin' for you to do with that mouth of yours other than bitch."

You squirm again, thighs rubbing together to try and give yourself a little friction as his already rough rhythm turns choppier ㅡ and then he's spilling down your throat with a low groan that only adds to your own arousal.

Cooper pulls free of your mouth and watches as you swallow before he tucks himself away and snorts when you give him an expectant look. "What's that for, sugar? Never promised I was gonna help you out."

Your lips part like you want to protest, but he's right ㅡ he'd never said he was going to do anything afterwards. He smirks, makes a show of debating before he crouches in front of you, tips your chin up so he can meet your eyes.

"Poor thing, did suckin' me off get you that hot and bothered?" Your cheeks flush, and his amusement grows. "I guess I can help you out. But we're doing this my way, hm?" You blink, watching as he moves to settle a little ways away, then gestures. "Well? C'mere, babydoll."

Cooper watches you, tracking you as you settle over him in his lap. He reaches for you, pulls you flush to him before he cups your face with gloved hands. "You wanna get off so bad, you'll take whatever I give you, hm?"

Your cheeks burn, betraying you as you nod and listen to him click his tongue, sizing you up before he leans to kiss you. It'd almost be sweet were it not for the way he anchors you to keep you from withdrawing, muffling your soft noises before pulling away.

"Alright, sweetheart," he breathes, "I'll give you somethin'."

ㅡ

"Come on sweetheart, I thought you wanted this."

Your cheeks blaze, a mix of embarrassment and arousal as your hips rock, bitten off whine that makes Cooper snicker as he watches you rut against his boot. The dusty leather is far from what you'd been expecting, but Cooper had been adamant ㅡ either you got off on his boot or you didn't get off at all.

He at least pushes it against you, offers that modicum of reciprocation beyond the dark, hungry way he watches you grind against the only thing he's willing to offer.

The edge of it digs against the ache of your core, makes you groan and grind down harder.

"Look at you, honeybunch," Cooper drawls, determined to keep up a steady stream of commentary and make this all the worse for you, "that needy for me you're willing to hump my boot like a bitch in heat. Pathetic."

It should annoy you, but all the insult does is send heat curling in your veins to join the needy, sticky slick between your legs as you whimper and continue moving. Your thighs ache, your head spins with the way you're panting ㅡ but you're so close.

Cooper knows it to, doesn't miss a beat as he listens to you whimper, noises arching to something more pitched before you're shuddering, rocking your hips in rough, tiny little movements before you're panting, body trembling with the force of your orgasm.

"See, sugar? Wasn't so hard, was it?" His tone and words are a playful taunt, one that has you glaring at him.

"Fuck you."

Cooper grins, eyes dark. "That's the plan, babydoll."

#ㅡmine. #fallout x reader #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard x reader

[briefpeachdinosaur]

dazai and flirting

NSFW Minors do not interact. Mention of suicide ( It's dazai ) And this is just an Observation of how dazai flirts with women, why and when.

•I know it seems silly But when dazai flirts most of the time and what we have seen so far, is that he always wants something from the women he flirts with.

• It is either related to go and Do a double suicide with him or that he Plans something ahead already.

•for example when higuchi was there for the first time, he flirted because he noticed there was something wrong and decided to spy on her. And he was right.

• or with the nurse, I know there is a big discussion how he and the nurse must have had Sex but I think he was A to injured to do it ( without him being hurted ) and B it didn't (at least for me) came across like they did it lol.

•LMAO he always becomes a Poet when he flirts LOL.

• He ALWAYS makes poems.

• dazai knows how to Deal with women.

• he is skilled in flirting lets not forget that he does has one night stands (comformed by chuuya)

• but I do believe that he respects women.

• he never flirts or ask for a double suicide with yosano or any of the women in his work place, I think it Shows how much he respects them.

• (I'm also not saying he dosen't respect women whom he ask to take there lifes with him btw)

•( if he would offer ME a double suicide bye guys i would have said yes)

• but we are all like this that we have extra respect for some and not for some others.

• if however he ask a women to make a double suicide with him and they turn him down he dosen't pressure him. He might be like " but a double suicide dosen't work alone Belladonna " but let go after that. ( as we saw with him and the waitress lol)

• I also think he notice If a women is not into him in that way he'll not pressure her or try to Manipulate her into doing smt she Dosen't want to.

•I think he notice right away if she is into him or not.

• so like he walkes into a Bar and sees how a women looks at him he knows.

•when he Talks to her he knows if she really wants to or not.

• i think he is the typ of guy who likes someone who really wants to sleep with him just like how he wants to sleep with them.

•I think if he sees a women being harrased he probaly do something. He is not an ass just a big tease who likes to annoy people.

•i also don't think he would try his shoot to them after helping them ( he isn't an idiot as we all know he is super smart)

• i think he has a normal Sex drive.

•now lets go to the suicidal part.

• I think we all overlook how it is very selfish and greedy from him to want a women to take her life with him.

•he is basiclly asking to throw her life away for him and her future with that. I think if she changed her mind he be like : what serious ?

• I think he would let a big shign pass his mouth and be like : well It's your choice after all...

•tbh I think he, deep down, he know he can't die bc he promised oda that he will do something that will help people around him.

•I think dazai has a big disconnetion to himself, aka his feelings and the World and humans in generell.

•I think thats why he dosen't see a good point in living cuz he is so disconnected from the World and he Dosen't understand why or perhaps Dosen't even know.

• not to mention the mafia really messed with him and his moralitys. I know he himself is already messed up but imagine he grew up in the ADA like ranpo.

•I'm quit sure he would have been a bit different then.

• Perhaps deep down he dosen't wants to Die but he sees this as the only chance to something better. To be free from all this pain he dosen't even get.

• Dazai dosen't realize that the people he cares for also care for him equally.

• but have you noticed whenever he tried to end his life it was bc he Planed smt ahead ALL THE TIME ( ok maybe almost all the time)

• idk if it was intentional but when he jumped into that Lake he met Tiger boy remembere ?

• Or how he was there durning the investigation of the death of that women where he told Tiger boy that ranpo dosen't has an ability acually.

• now this was intensional, when he, like I said, ask higuchi to kill hersef with him.

• or why he was so overly friendly with Nobuko Sasaki.

(I read that sasaki was more dangerous in the manga )

• He KNEW there was smt wrong

• Poor kunikida tho...

#dazai osamu #bsd dazai #dazai x reader #bungou stray dogs dazai #dazai headcanons #bungou stray dogs #kunikida doppo #bsd kunikida #sasaki nobuko #bsd #bungo stray dogs #ranpo edogawa #bsd ranpo #yosano akiko #bsd yosano #Yosano #akiko yosano #Bungou stray dogs headcanons

[fallingintoyourlilaceyes]

Mi estrella (Valentino x reader)

synopsis: Valentino and you have a fight. Nothing unusual about that. Only this time the resolution is a bit different and definitely more up his alley.

warnings: my 9 year unpracticed spanish lol, Valentino being a teasing son of a b should be a warning on his own, smut, p in v sex, orgasm denial, forced orgasms, dumbification (if you squint), afab reader

word count: 2.2k

taglist:@velvette-creations

(If you want to be tagged for a specific character/fandom or in general let me know in my asks, comments or DMs)

A/N: Thank you to my beautiful tumblr friends for encouraging me to write this! This is for y´all. And also thank you @zaldritzosrose for helping me by bouncing ideas. Love you guys!💜

Dividers by @saradika

Mi estrella = my star

Mi amor = my love

Tesoro = (my) treasure

“Oh, go fuck yourself, Val!” You scream, flipping him off as you storm out of the studio.

The large doors fall closed behind you and you are immediately met with a wall of rain. Cursing under your breath, you press yourself against the wall to stay under the little awning and light a cigarette. Your hands are shaking still from the boiling emotions that had been unloading between Valentino and you seconds ago. Of course, the moth demon couldn´t even give you the moment of rest it took to smoke that much needed cigarette.

A few deep drags in, you feel his breath billow over the side of your neck and a hand sneak under your chin to lay on the opposite cheek. Meanwhile, two others lay on your lower back, to pull you closer to him. You can´t help but to stumble closer, but instead of giving in to him like usually, you turn your head away from Valentino even more. He should be the one struggling with having to apologize for once.

“You can hug me as close as you want. I´m still mad at you, Val.” I say in a sharp tone.

There is a small break, the silence filled with a low, confident chuckle from Valentino and the sight of pink smoke wafting around you.

“That´s fine, mi estrella. I know you still love me.” He purrs in that teasing tone, leaning in even closer. “I know you can´t resist my touch.”

You suck on your teeth and bite your tongue in response. He wasn´t wrong. No one´s touch had ever made you feel as good as his did and even though he knew that, giving in now would be equal to letting him win just another fight.

“Come on… You can't possibly pretend to be mad for much longer.” Valentino´s voice is sweet and thick as honey, which makes it hard to not at least turn around any longer. “There we go. I know you can't resist me for long.”

“Oh yeah? Are you sure about that?” You tease back with an equally provoking smile and arched eyebrows.

“Oh yes. In fact, I bet you can't hold out for five minutes after I start kissing you.” Valentino smirks and gently taps your chin to make you look up just a bit more, thus bringing your lips only inches apart.

The challenge certainly catches your interest.

“Hm, let's make this more interesting. I bet I can make it without a single touch from you until we leave the studio.” You raise the stakes.

“Oh oh, you are so confident, lovebug. Alright. I'm up for the challenge.” Valentino lets go of your face, takes a deep breath and smirks. “But if you fail… my hands have free reign to roam wherever they please.”

“You say that as if they don´t already do that day and night.” You shoot back. “Alright, I accept the stakes.” You throw the filter between your fingers onto the streets and with a perhaps too confident sway of the hips the two of you head back inside.

It was easy enough to stay away from him in the beginning, as you were both focused on work, but the hours dragged by more than anything. Hours in which you watched Val´s lips wrapped around the cigarette holder in his hands, giving directions in that deep voice that could melt ice cubes in seconds. And after only that short time your confidence begins to waver, wondering if you could really hold out without his touch under these conditions.

Watching the actors perform, ignited a burn in your body. A longing for Val to treat you like the actors were treating each other in the scene. The way they go at each other in such a primal way, with such intensity, made you yearn to receive the same treatment and hearing Valentino´s voice direct them to act in such a way made it only harder to resist.

However, you are able to take a deep breath and pull through until Valentino begins to play unfair.

He began to accentuate every little thing that made you go wild. And after an especially intense scene, when he blows a heart shaped cloud your way…

You are overcome by your shallow breath and a wildly beating heart.

“Well well well, that didn't take very long now, did it love?” His cerise eyes shine with the knowledge of how easily he had won.

“Only because you were playing unfair…” You grumble under your breath as your nails rake over his chest.

He turns his head and leans close as if to kiss you at that but stops at the last moment. “How needy are you for my touch?”

“So much… Need you more than anything right now.” From behind him you nuzzle your face in his neck to show him your need in the most desperate kisses. “Can we go somewhere else now?”

Valentino laughs at your desperation, purring at the attention you lay on him. One of his hands takes yours to lead you onto his lap. You looked stunning as your lips quivered and chest heaved.

“Only if you ask nicely. Tell me what I want to hear, tesoro.”

You sigh, but can't resist the seductive, low rumble of Valentino’s voice. “You were right. I can't go without your touch. Please, Big V. Please take me upstairs and fucking help me put out the fire you ignited in my veins.”

“Such a good girl.” He leaned forward and put the tips of two fingers to your lips and immediately you know what to do.

With an accelerating heartbeat and burning cheeks, your tongue begins to swirl around the long digits. A muffled whimper escapes your lips, when you feel Val rub the fingers along the wet muscle, pressing down on it ever so slightly.

All too soon he pulls his fingers back out with a wet pop, gently taking your chin between them. “I think you earned yourself a reward.”

A tingling feeling of giddiness runs through your body from the top of your head to the soles of your feet.

Pushing you along behind Valentino, who leads the way to the lounge area above the studio, with fast steps. You don't even realize the way the actors and crew are looking at you. All your focus is on him.

The heavy door hasn't even fallen close when Valentino sweeps you up in his arms and sits the two of you down on one of the large sofas, with you comfortably straddling his lap.

The upper pair of his arms each hold either your chin in a controlling grip or a cigarette between his fingers, while the lower ones rest on your hips, to guide them into a steady rhythm when you start to grind against him. The motions your own body produces are far to desperate and have you whining like a puppy, yet you haven´t got enough restraint left to control it yourself. Seeing it brought a dark chuckle from Valentinos lungs. Your hands wander restlessly up and down his slender body, pawing at his belt.

“My my, you really must have missed me. How long has it been, huh? One hour? Two?” The demon playfully taunts, pulling your face closer by the chin and letting his long tongue caress the shell of your ear.

The question only earns him an impatient whimper from you. “Please, mi amor. No more teasing. I already admitted you were right.”

“And yet it sounds better and better every time you say it. Let me hear it again…” The demand rumbles in your ear in a velvety voice, at the same time he stops your hips from moving even the slightest bit.

“You were right. I need your touch. It feels like I´m literally burning up with need right now.” Your eyebrows furrow and the words get broken up by a sob. That look he gave you already told you that you wouldn´t come for another while, but my, was hope a nice thing.

“See? Doesn´t that sound good? And doesn´t it feel even better to be able to admit to your deepest need?” Val closes some of the distance between your faces. With the widest grin on his lips. “Why don´t you say it one more time, hm?”

“You were right, Val. You were right. You were right, I love your touch and I need it more than anything.” Tears begin to prick in your eyes, however before they can slip down your burning cheeks, they get swept away by a wet tongue.

Without a warning Valentino pulls your face down to bridge the last few inches, to connect your lips for the first time after what feels like forever. With a sigh of relief your hands move up, to run through the soft fur around his neck, which in turn made Val slip his tongue into your mouth.

The long muscle traces over your own tongue and teeth, before you entangle them in a dance that very much perfectly mirrors the passion and neediness between the two of you. And with your colliding lips keeping you just calm enough, you finally manage to open the heart shaped belt buckle, pulling your lovers white dress pants down just far enough to free his cock. Equally hasty your panties get pulled to the side and you sink down on his hardness. Val revels in the moan that leaves your lungs upon it, growling as the sweet, hot, tightness that is your cunt wraps around his length.

“P-please, mi amor. Please, let me come… Can´t take anymore.” There is a thick cloud of pink smoke not only filling the room, but also your brain. Since he had bottomed out in you, Valentino had brought you to the edge countless times and filled you with the thick ropes of his seed half as often. Your begging has become more of a mindless babble at this point and your needy hole aches for relief. Relief that you have spent the past, you don´t even know how long, begging for.

“Awww, baby.” The taunting coo reaches your ear, though you barely understand the words meaning anymore. “Where has your mind gone, huh? Have I fucked you stupid already? And you haven´t even come once yet…”

“Please… Need it. Need to come.” You sputter, weakly fucking yourself on your lover’s cock.

In truth your legs had wanted to give out about the same time that your brain did, but Val had refused to help you and so there was nothing left to do but to follow the one coherent thought left and continue to slide up and down the hard, twitching length.

“Not yet, baby. I know you can keep going longer. I know I can fuck your brain out just a bit more.” The smug smile on his face practically backs to be wiped off, but you have no mind for it. You have to concentrate on getting yourself close to another orgasm that would never come.

Despite the way your legs give out underneath you and your wet eyes are barely staying open on their own, you get yourself up to that cliff again. Even daring to look over the edge as Valentino warns you not to come, but when he pinches your clit, it is over.

Your legs give out and you plop down in Valentino´s lap, mouth open in a weak, high pitched squeak, as the painful release washes over you, shaking your entire body along with it. Once you feel a bit more stable again, you place little kisses to Valentino´s neck again. This time to apologize for having disobeyed his orders.

“´m sorry, Val. I´m so so sorry. Just couldn´t take it anymore. Was too much.” You mumble against his lavender skin.

But all the frantically murmured apologies in the world couldn´t save you from your punishment.

“That´s okay, mi estrella.” The moth demon reassures you eerily calmly, one of his hands tracing soothing circles into your back. “You really needed that orgasm really bad, huh? And you couldn´t think right anymore…”

You nod along with what he is saying, having been so far gone before that the release couldn´t entirely bring back your mind.

“Hm, sadly you still disobeyed me and you know what that means. I´ll have to punish you.” Before you can even think about protesting or begging for mercy, Valentinos four arms hold you close to his lean body as he shifts the two of you until your back is on the red cushions and he leans over you. “Since you wanted to come so badly that you even disregard my words, now you won´t stop coming until I say so.” He grins, wiping away some of the tears and the sweat that were sticking to your skin.

Your back arches and you cry out when Val first starts to slowly thrust into you all over again, but you are also smarter than to try to protest. So all that´s left to do now is to mentally ready yourself as much as possible for however extensively he thought you needed to be punished.

#valentino #hazbin hotel valentino #valentino x reader #valentino x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel fic

[lordoftime01]

(A rewrite of sorts)

Yang: Lying in bed with her head handing off the side

Yang: "Ugh! It's been soooo boring since team JNPR got sent on that mission several months ago."

Ruby: "Hey, at least there was a bright side. Since it was Miss Goodwitch that went with then, Combat Class has become a free time."

Weiss: "I still can't believe that Professor Ozpin had Miss Goodwitch go with them. Especially considering her condition."

Yang: "Oh don't worry I'm su-" Interrupted and startled by a loud yelling.

???: "OH MY BROTHERS!!! IT FEELS SO GOOD TO BE BACK!"

???: "It is nice to be back, yeah. Those Grimm just never seemed to end"

???: "Oh yeah, and if it hadn't been for fearless leader unlocking his semblance, we could have been goners"

______

Yang/Ruby/Weiss: In their heads 'Wait, Vomit Boy/Jaune/That dunce finally unlocked his semblance"

______

???: "And even better that he saved his and Miss Goodwitch's baby"

______

Yang: "Wait, not only did Jaune unlock his semblance, but he also knocked up the goodbitch our teacher?!"

______

???: "Thank you... Nora for reminding me of that... really appreciate it"

Yang/Ruby/Weiss: Huddle around their dorm room door to be able to hear much better. They heard Nora, Ren, and Pyrrha but haven't heard Juane yet.

Nora: "You know Pyrrha, you have no one to blame but yourself"

Ren: "Yeah. Nora and I told you that if you didn't tell him soon-"

Nora: "Then someone else was going to be his"

Pyrrha: "You're right. I took too long to confess my feelings. And I lost him to our teacher of all people. There has to be some sort of law against that." The pain and hurt in her voice was evident

Pyrrha: Punches the wall hard enough for it, and the surrounding area to rattle a bit.

Blake: Burst out of the bathroom wearing only a towel, pen and notebook in hand. Bowling over her teammates and slamming the door open, startling _NPR

Blake: "What's this I hear about Jaune knocking up Miss Goodwitch!? Give me the details, leave nothing out"

Nora: "Ok so apparently Jaune Jaune and Miss Goodwitch banged each other on Velentine's day." She had a shit-eating grin on her face as the sound of Pyrrha crunching JNPR's door handle was heard.

Nora: "And from what I know, the two of them had been together together for a few months before that." She proceeded to go into great detail of all that she knew.

Glynda: Carefully sits down while groaning. One hand on the chair to help stabilize, the other hand on her extended belly.

Jaune: Comes in with some tea and quickly rushes over to help her

Glynda: "Don't worry Jaune, I had it." Gives Jaune a peck on the lips

Glynda: "Thank you though. I really appreciate it"

Jaune: "You really shouldn't be moving yourself so much. We already had that close call with the Beringel." Pours Glynda some tea before giving it to her.

Jaune: "Ozpin has even told you are to take it easy." He sits beside Glynda and wraps one arm around her shoulder, pulling her close while he places his free hand over Glynda's hand and belly, intertwining his fingers with hers.

Glynda: "Oh, but I'm sure there's so much paperwork that is backed up. Paperwork that I'm 100% sure that Ozpin didn't do and so will just push the work load onto me." Her voice had a slight whine to it as she sipped her tea.

Jaune and Glynda just sat there in silence, enjoying each other's company. Their eyes widened in surprise when they felt their child moving inside Glynda's womb, a smile on their faces as they just basked in the moment.

The two of them hadn't been able to get much alone time during the mission. Now was the perfect chance for them to make up for lost time. Glynda turned her head and gently pressed her lips against Jaune when there was a loud knock on the door.

Glynda: Let's out a groan as their alone time was interrupted. She struggles a bit to get up from her position

Jaune: Gently, yet firmly, keeps her seated as he gets up to see who it was. At the door was Ozpin with a large stack of papers.

Ozpin: "Ah hello, Mr Arc. If you would be so kind as to hand Glynda these papers. I'd be ever so grateful."

#rwby #ruby #ruby rose #weiss #weiss schnee #blake #blake belladonna #yang #yang xiao long #jaune #jaune arc #nora #nora valkyrie #pyrrha #pyrrha nikos #ren #lie ren #glynda #glynda goodwitch #ozpin #jaune x glynda #arcwitch

[hazbinfallinginaspiral]

I could see one of the hobbies Retro picks up in their free time being embroidery. They start small and then the Vs start finding things added to clothes they asked Retro to repair or smaller items.

Velvette finds her handkerchief has her Vs logo sewn into it. With hearts added to the sleeve of her favourite nightwear she asked Retro to fix.

Vox finds little sharks and sea bunnies sewn into the cushion case Retro made for his screen office. His formerly torn jacket now repaired getting lightening patterns sewn around his cuffs.

Valentino would need someone to point our Retro stitched his Vs logo into his directors chair, though he did notice Retro added a pink smoke pattern around the hem of his skirt when they fixed it.

Plus I could see Retro's frilly house work apron gaining stitched references to the Vs on the pocket, which when they notice would make the three delighted as Retro wears the apron almost everywhere.

Yes!! They would definitely do this!

On another note, I’ve personally been getting into knitting and crochet and I can say that Retro would DEFINITELY be making a bunch of things for the Vs.

They’d make a lot of small sea bunnies and hide them around the tower, just to be found by anyone. Vox and Vel are competing to see who can find the most (Val is uninterested, seeing as he’s still searching for the guns he knows Retro is still hiding for him).

Angel Dust actually has quite a few that he keeps in his room. He brings one to the Hotel, and is showing it to Husk when the others see it. Alastor thinks it’s cute and an endearing little game, and like the others, he doesn’t think much of it. The general consensus is that it’s cute. Lucifer goes absolute batshit when he finds out, though. Like, goddamn this man fucking loves those little sea bunnies.

Next time he visits Retro, he requests little sea bunnies wearing different outfits and Reto LOVES the idea. They start working on rubber ducks and mini sea bunny plushies together.

Retro definitely crochets a few amigurumi sharks for Vox, too! From his favorites to just sharks in general. He has a collection, now, of all the shark themed gifts he’s received since that date at the aquarium with Retro. They’ve even gone a bit further, in making him a few hanging jellyfish lamps and even a seashell windchime. They were nervous about the windchime, so they asked Valentino about it and he thought it was amazing so he helped design and make it with them. I imagine Retro and Val end up doing crafts together often.

Speaking of Val! He keeps running out of good sheets and props for his sets (the sheets specifically keep getting torn, and there’s not much you can do to fix it after the fifth time). Then, he starts finding little repairs to it all. Somethings are just straight up replaced without him even needing to ask! Next to the object in question, there will be a little crocheted moth for him. He adores it.

He also ends up getting ceiling decorations, some knitted, some not. They’re little handmade flowers of all sorts, with matching vines and leaves. (I noticed his areas of the tower seemed to have more greenery, but I’m not sure if that’s for the sets or just his preference). Now, what he’s most surprised is the fact that there aren’t many roses. Roses are the go-to for people giving Val flowers, and he’s grown used to it. When he sees forget me nots, marigolds, tulips, carnations, he’s just. Awestruck. He loves it. He was never a fan of peonies, lilies, orchids, or daisies before, but sometimes Retro would come in with his clothes repaired and the little flowers embroidered on. Occasionally, he receives a flower crown (usually when Retro has time to go out, and they probably get Rosie’s opinion on it first). Val even comes to realize that he didn’t pay Sunflowers much mind before, but they’ve quickly become one of his favorites.

Velvette is a bit different. She doesn’t notice at first, but the fabric or clothes she dumps or deems as ‘trash’ keeps being added back into her collections, repurposed in some way. Sometimes the fabric is combined with some others, which sparks an idea for a new outfit. Sometimes she finds an outfit she previously hated just hanging neatly alongside all the others, a few small changes and some little embroidery. She realizes that those changes are what makes or breaks the outfit, and that she only really hated it because it had the potential to be so good, she was only frustrated she couldn’t seem to accomplish that. With the small changes Retro makes, it’s enough to push Vel in the direction she wants to go to make her outfits as amazing as she wants.

I’m also 90% sure that Vel receives arigurumi plushies of the Vees and Retro that can be dressed up like little dolls. She’s absolutely touched by this and keeps them around, mostly in her office. She can be seen designing little outfits for the dolls, sometimes.

#hazbin hotel #vox #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #writing #vox x reader #my writing #x reader #thanks anon! #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin velvette #velvette x reader #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin valentino #valentino x reader #hazbin hotel vees #hazbin vees #the vees #vees x reader #the vees x reader

[serickswrites]

Im a sucker for Hero and Villain, normally i enjoy Villain whumpees but im also a sucker for Hero whumpee, so i was thinking

Villain as a passionate whumper who takes Hero as a hostage, Hero still keeps being compassionate with Villain, saying how they believe they can change, even with bruises, Hero always greets them with a smile, always tries to ask villain what has happened to them to make them so angry, and everytime Hero cares for Villain, Villain tortures them harder, they just cant take how much Hero cares for them, even with the torture, they cant handle how it makes their heart clench. Soo, villain keeps torturing hero and hero keeps caring for him, and as time passes, Villain's heart gets softer and they finally understand how much they care about villain, but when they finally realize, that's when Hero finally breaks from torture, they dont respond, they dont do anything, a shell from the person who cared about villain till the last second.

sorry if this is a weird prompt or too specific, feel free to delete, i love your works so so much!!

Hello, Anon! I'm so sorry this took so long for me to answer. But I can definitely write this for you! I hope you like it.

Warnings: captivity, restraints, torture, bruises, broken bones, blood, catatonia

Villain slowly walked to the dungeon in Lair. They had kept to their routine these last several weeks. Torture Hero for a couple hours in the morning, have lunch, resume torturing Hero until Hero passed out, and then go out and wreck havoc on City.

But they had grown tired of the routine. Had grown tired of beating Hero and still had Hero smile at them. Had grown tired of breaking Hero's bones and still hear Hero say that they were still a good person, and that Hero knew they could change. Had grown tired of their hands stained with Hero's blood and still Hero asked about them, their history, and well being.

Villain had grown tired of hurting Hero because Hero wouldn't break. Villain had grown tired of torturing Hero because Hero still cared for them. And perhaps, Villain had realized over their lunch, they cared about Hero.

"Look, Hero," Villain said as they opened the door to the dungeon cell they had thrown Hero in before going to lunch, "we need to talk."

Hero lay in a bloody heap in the center of the cell. They didn't move as Villain spoke. Didn't roll over and look up at Villain through their swollen black eyes. Didn't flash their sweet smile with now broken and missing teeth. Didn't do anything, but lay in the heap, their wrists still cuffed in the power suppressing cuffs Villain had slapped on them all those weeks ago.

"Hero?" Perhaps Villain had kicked Hero too hard after they had thrown Hero in there. Perhaps Hero was still unconscious. "Hero?" Villain touched Hero's shoulder delicately. They shook Hero. "Hero, wake up."

Villain shook Hero harder as Hero remained unresponsive. Villain rolled Hero onto their back. Hero blinked up at Villain. But they didn't speak. Didn't smile. Didn't do anything but stare blankly.

"Say something, Hero," Villain ordered.

But Hero didn't say anything. They continued to stare out at nothing. Villain said a silent apology as they pinched Hero's arm. Hero didn't respond. Didn't flinch away in pain. They lay there, silently, staring out at nothing.

Villain's heart dropped as they realized they had finally accomplished their goal. They had finally broken Hero beyond repair. They had finally accomplished everything they had been dreaming of for weeks. But they didn't want it. They sat down next to Hero silently and began to sob. "I'm sorry," they said through their tears. "I'm sorry I went this far. I'm so sorry, Hero. Come back. Please. I'm sorry."

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