#and then just admitting you expect everyone else to read your stuff but you don’t consider that you might be able to support or to learn

[bringmoreknives]

i feel like. being a fanfiction writer and then also admitting that you never read fanfiction. is a bad look

#this is not about anybody here i’m not vagueing #i’m just like. damn. it’s hard enough to get engagement as a fic writer like most of the time we have to ask our author friends to read #and then just admitting you expect everyone else to read your stuff but you don’t consider that you might be able to support or to learn #from others??? like?? #man idk #i don’t read NEARLY as much as i want to but at least i fucking do it!!!! #.txt

[luveline]

𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

Spencer calls you drunk and in need of rescue. You confess a few secrets to him while he won’t remember them (or so you think). 3k, fem

cw drunk!spencer, mentioned past drug use, confident/bombshell!reader, flirting, spencer getting some well deserved comfort, a handful of his drunken compliments, insecurity, intense mutual pining

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You’re blissfully sleeping in the arms of a REM cycle when your phone rings. It pulls you by the chest, a punch of shock and expectancy at once. It’ll be someone calling you into work, Hotch himself if you’re lucky. 

You search blindly for your phone. If you’re even luckier, it’ll be a wrong number. Your fingers curl around the little body of your phone and you bring it to your ear without checking the number, frazzled. “Hello?” you ask hoarsely. 

Total quiet. 

“Hello?” You pull the screen away. The caller reads: SPENCER. You pull it back rather than hang up. “Hey, Spencer. Are you there?” 

“Hello.” He laughs. “Hello, are you there?” 

“I’m here, Spencer, where are you?” 

“That’s an interesting question, actually, and I’m sure there’s a great answer, but…” 

“But what?” You sit up quickly, your throat aching with sleep. Your room is black as coal pitch. “Spencer, what time is it, my love?” 

“You shouldn’t call me stuff like that.” 

“Stop being weird and tell me where you are.” 

He laughs like a hyena. You can see it in your mind, his smile and all his pearly perfect teeth. You love it when he smiles like that and he rarely ever does. “I’m somewhere and I need your help getting home!” he says with another funny laugh. 

“Are you alright? You sound…” He sounds inebriated. 

Spencer struggled with his drug problem for so long before you found out. You just hadn’t been around enough, and when you were he’d gotten good at hiding it. You can still remember how furious you’d been with everyone, including him, because you could’ve helped, would’ve done anything to support him through it. If he’s hurting now and hasn’t told you, you love him, but you’ll be insanely angry. 

“Spencer?” you ask quietly. 

“I went for drinks with a girl but she didn’t like me and I may have drowned my sorrows too much,” he admits. “Um. Did you know gin is very strong?” 

“Aw, baby. You’re cheating on me?” 

“I’m afraid so,” he says, and hiccups. 

“Where are you?” 

After some hassle wherein you persuade Spencer to give the phone to someone else in the bar for a slightly less drunk interrogation, you dress and gather your bearings for the drive. You zip a hoodie up over your pyjamas, stuff your feet into some old converse, and set out into the dark to find him. 

He calls you again as you’re parking. “Hello,” he says as soon as you answered. “I need you to come and get me.” 

Spencer called you twice to save him. Even if he doesn’t remember, he’s called you to come and get him when he knows he needs help, and that realisation is hard to ignore. “Spencer, I’m two minutes away, I’m parking. You’re still where you were?” 

“Where was I?” 

“At the bar, sweetheart. Are you still there?” It’s scarily dark out and you didn’t grab any sort of defensive measure before you came, which you regret now, climbing out of your car to walk the dimly lit road. The bar glows like a beacon to be followed. 

“Still where?” 

“Did you hit your head?” 

“Not to my knowledge. Though I’m not sure I have much right now. I feel like I’m forgetting everything I’ve ever read, and I’ve read a lot. You know I can read about eighty average length novels in one hour on an e-reader? The buttons make it faster.” 

“You haven’t told me that before.” You shiver against the nighttime winds, footsteps heavy on the grey sidewalk. 

“I’m trying to be more conversational. Emily says it’s not working.” 

“You’re conversational. Isn’t the only condition of being conversational to prompt a conversation? We’re always talking.” 

“…What?” 

You laugh like crazy. “Spencer, you don’t need to change the way you talk.” 

“I annoy people.” 

“You don’t annoy me.” 

You approach the door of the bar, a ramshackle sheet of plywood over what looks to be a glass door. The bar building seems in similar dessaray, with modern features wrecked by scratches and smashed panes. It’s a real dive. Spencer couldn’t have meant to come here. 

You war with both hands to open the door and find yourself faced with a long and empty corridor leading to another door. Worried you’re going to get kidnapped, you bring the phone back to your ear, Spencer’s chatting an immediate greeting. “…telling me I’m doing something wrong without telling me what it is, it’s impossible.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, can you come to the door?” 

“I don’t think I have control of my legs,” he says without inflection. 

“It’s definitely the building with the smashed door?” 

“Yesssss. Are you here?” he asks excitedly. 

“I better not get murdered, Spencer Reid.” 

“Am I in trouble?” 

“How are you even keeping the phone to your ear right now?” 

“I’m on speaker phone. Milly showed me how to do it. Say hi, Milly.” 

“Hi Milly,” a new voice says. 

You rub your eyes with one hand and square your shoulders, prepared to defend yourself if the creepy door leads to a creepier room. 

Spencer is immediately visible from the get go. You open the door on to a rather cosy looking bar, which you’re thinking might be the whole point; wretched exterior, secret attraction. Warm orange light ebbs into the space from sconces and a faux fireplace, while a wrestling match playing from the small TV behind the bar casts brighter light down onto Spencer’s shoulders. He looks out of place, dressed in a white oxford shirt and a suit jacket, his tie loosened and hanging from either side of his neck, compared to the lingering patrons who sit dotted around the room in booths and on barstools. One such patron sits in a plaid shirt and a trucker hat, her hair to her back, thick and dark. 

You hang up the call and put your phone in your pocket. Spencer gasps like he’s been smacked and picks his own phone up from the bar, clicking at buttons with clumsy fingers. “No,” he hums sadly. 

“Spencer,” you say, not wanting to disturb the people spending their sorry-looking night here. “Spencer. Hey, Spence!” 

His phone tips between his fingers. The woman you assume to be Milly catches it and offers it back without looking too far from her beer. 

“Hey,” you say gently, crossing a wide empty space to meet him. The room itself is shaped like a horseshoe, the bar taking up a surprising amount in the centre, and booths and tables placed around it. Spencer’s off of his barstool as you approach, eyes like puppy dog’s, arms extended. “You okay?” you ask. 

You can feel eyes on you both from every angle, but it doesn’t matter, not when Spencer’s falling into your arms (or on to them —he’s surprisingly tall when you aren’t wearing heels). “You alright?” you ask again. 

“You don’t have to be worried, I’m fine.” 

He’s less coordinated in real life than he’d sounded over the phone, his slurring unmissable, his hands like jumping fish as he tries to hug you. It’s weird and straining to take his weight but you do it without complaint. He smells the same, at least, only his cedary cologne is sharpened by the tang of gin on his breath. 

“Thank god you’re here,” he whispers. 

“Why?” you ask, pulling away to check for danger. 

“I missed you.” 

“I missed you too, handsome,” you say, genuine but laying it on thick simultaneously as you ease his head back to cup his cheek. You can’t help yourself. He’s the prettiest man you’ve ever met, and it gets worse every year. 

He frowns at you deeply. “I don’t like first dates.” 

“Then don’t go on them,” you suggest, “you don’t need to until you’re ready.” 

“I’m ready for love,” he says. You pull your lips into a flattened line, unsure of what to say, how to explain that it’s waiting for him, but his chin dips towards his neck and his eyes lock onto your face. “You’re not wearing makeup. God, you’re so pretty.” 

You flinch away from him. “Fuck, Spencer.”

“I’m sorry! It’s not that you don’t look pretty with makeup, but I never see you without it!” 

You’d forgotten you weren’t wearing any. Makeup isn’t a shield, exactly, but you like putting your best foot forward, so to speak. You’ve no clue what you look like tonight, hadn’t managed to look in the mirror, you’d been focused on getting to Spencer before he got lost. You can imagine the puffiness.

Spencer touches your cheek. You let him turn you mostly because he’s surprised you, his eyes roving up and down your face with a fawning curiosity. 

“You’re beautiful. You know that already, but people don’t tell you enough,” he says, his hand falling from your cheek. 

“Spencer,” you say softly, “let’s get you home.” 

You thank Milly for her help and grab Spencer’s bag from the floor to hang on your shoulder. You’d make a joke about how heavy it was if you didn’t think he’d take it from you, and, considering how drunk he is, topple over from the imbalance it provides. His shirt is clammy where you push your hand through his arm to link them, his footsteps wobbly. 

“I didn’t want to go on a date,” he says. 

“Then why did you go?” you ask, helping him over the door jam into the long hallway. 

“I don’t want to be alone forever.” 

“Spencer, you won’t be.” It doesn’t feel like the best time to bring up how much you like him. You’re sure he thinks you’re kidding, doesn’t everybody? Don’t torture him, they say. Don’t toy with him. Every time you flirt with him the team acts like you can’t mean it, and for a while it worked for you; you weren’t in love with Spencer. You weren’t playing with his feelings, but you didn’t love him, and then you joined the team and got to know him, watched him fluster at every comment you made or under any soft looking and realised you could love him. It was easy to fall for him. You liked doing it. But now he’s determined to write your affection off as a joke and going on dates? 

In the morning, when he’s sober, you’ll have to tell him how you feel. Or you could let him find someone more like him… ugh. It’s such a mess. 

You grapple with the size of your feelings for him as he hums and laughs his way down the hall to the glass door. On the street, he squints and straightens his back, fighting to regain his arm from your hold to cover your shoulder instead. “It’s cold,” he says in surprise. “You okay?” 

“I’m fine, I got my jacket. It’s a short walk, come on.”

His arm stops acting as protection and starts to use you for support. “I didn’t mean to drink so much.” 

“Drowning your sorrows is always a terrible idea because it tends to work,” you lament, less scared of the dark with him at your hip, though what protection he might offer is negated by the alcohol. 

“She kind of looked like you.” 

You squeeze your eyes together quickly. “Oh.” 

“I didn’t know she was going to. But she didn’t– she didn’t– it’s hard to talk. She didn’t listen like you do,” he says, lightly slurring, “she just stared at me like everyone used to in high school. Like she could tell there’s something wrong with me.” 

“Spencer, there’s nothing wrong with you.”

“I know,” he says. 

“Do you?” 

“Yes.” He frowns. “No, I don’t know. I don’t feel like there’s something wrong with me,” —his voice turns to a nearly indistinguishable mumble— “but everyone else always does.” 

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you.” 

“Is that why you make all your jokes?” 

“What jokes, babe?” 

“Like that! Like babe. It’s funny ‘cos you’d never date me.” 

You’d slow if he weren’t already walking at a snail's pace. “That’s not true. Let’s talk about it in the morning, okay?” 

“I won’t remember to ask you in the morning.” 

“Spencer, you remember everything.” 

He drags his feet. “I wish I wasn’t so weird,” he whines. It’s playful at the forefront but desperate otherwise, and it gives you pause. “I wish I was normal, and you could like me normal.” 

You look down at your hands, panicking, a flash of Is this a good idea? like an alarm in your head as you turn on the sidewalk to face him. He’s looking at you like he’s begging you to disagree with him. 

You’re happy to. 

“Spencer, I like you like this,” you insist loudly. His eyes and all his sweet lashes track the movement of your hand as you touch your chest, and your neck. “You’re not normal, I’m not normal. Do you know how many times I’ve been rejected? Just for being me? I’m too bossy, too outspoken, too– too high maintenance. I've had friends with good intentions tell me I need to lower my standards, need to relax, because otherwise I’m going to end up alone for the rest of my life. I feel alone all the time.”

“But you’re perfect,” he says, puzzled. 

“To you. And you’re perfect to me.” Your hand crawls to the base of your throat. “So don’t say you’re weird like it’s ugly, honey. And don’t think I don’t like you, ‘cos I do. You think I’d come and get anybody else in the middle of the night dressed like this?” you ask him, gesturing to your ratty pyjamas and your dingy converse. 

“You look so cute,” he says mournfully. 

You roll your eyes. He’s too wasted for this conversation. “Come on, sweetheart. You can think about this too much in the morning. Let’s just get home in one piece.” Physically and emotionally. 

“Can I come home with you?” he asks. 

That had always been the plan. “Ask me nicely and I’ll consider it on the way.” 

— — 

Spencer shuts his eyes, hands itching to clap over his ears as you scratch the head of a spatula across your frying pan. “Is three eggs too many? People usually have two but that’s never enough for me.” 

“I think…” Oh my god the metal screeching is so loud. “You should have as many as you want. You know your body. There’s this study on intuitive eating…” I'm too hungover for this. “Three eggs is better than two.” 

“So you want three?” 

He cannot eat right now. “Yes. Please.” 

Spencer’s half sick with dehydration and half grief. He stayed at your house last night and he was too drunk to be nosy. He slept in your bed. He slept in your bed. He woke up to you at your vanity doing your hair, the nutty smell of hair oil mixed with the heat of the hair tool on high and realised with a start that he’d missed something he thought about all the time. 

You’d tipped your head back to smile at him. “There’s my boy. Sweet dreams?” 

He didn’t dream, but if he had, it would’ve been another agonising wish where you were his girlfriend, or his wife, or just there looking at him with love. He wakes up feeling sick because it isn’t true. And now you’re making him breakfast, humming a tune under your breath, sourdough sizzling under the grill and a shoddily blended avocado sitting in the bowl in front of him. 

You asked him for one thing. He picks up the fork and starts to mash the avocado again. He can’t fight the foreignness of sitting in your kitchen, a gap in his memory. 

He knows he told you about his date, how she looked like you, how she didn’t seem to like him much, but he’s struggling to collect the finer details. Why had you picked him up? He must’ve called you, but you could’ve said no. He remembers thinking you looked beautiful, but he always thinks that. 

The avocado is making him feel sick. 

“Here,” you say, sliding a plate of toast in front of him. “Do you want butter?” 

“I think I'm gonna throw up.” 

“You’re okay.”

“I can’t believe how I acted,” he says, pressing his palms to the hollows of his eyes. 

You turn off the hob. Fat bubbles and pops until it’s cooled. The clock on the wall by the refrigerator ticks incessantly. His slept-in shirt feels too tight despite the undone button. 

“Hey…” You round the island but don’t touch him, your voice gentle. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

He drags his hands down his face. “I can barely remember what I said.” 

“You were really nice to me… told me I looked pretty without my makeup, n’ that I was perfect. You were really nice.” 

Your tone is off. No flirtatiousness, no endless confidence, you sound wistful, like you’re glad he said it. You take the bowl of avocado he’s made a mess with and put it aside with the toast, resting your arm on the counter, and leaning into his space. “Spencer, last night? You didn’t do anything to be embarrassed of. You were nice, and kind. You tried to open the car door for me and you almost lost your eye, but you were fine. You don’t have anything to be worried about, really.”

“But it’s you.” 

“Gonna touch your hair,” you say, giving him enough time to move away as you reach out and rake back his fringe. His heart leaps into his mouth. “You said something last night like that, you know? Do you remember that? You said if you were normal.” You grace the skin beside his eye with the tip of your thumb, your perfume floating his way as you move. “And I said–”

“I’m not normal,” he says, remembering now. 

You’re not normal, I’m not normal, you’d said.

But you’re perfect, he’d said. 

To you. And you’re perfect to me.

“Right. We’re not normal, Spencer Reid, so forget that girl. She didn’t deserve you anyways,” you say. 

You draw a short, silken line down his cheek with the side of your pinky. To be touched so lightly has his stomach in knots —he’s not shocked by the swiftness with which your affection can make a bad situation good again. 

You turn away. “Now we should eat before everything goes cold.” 

He watches your shoulders move, and he remembers one last detail. So don’t say you’re weird like it’s ugly, honey. And don’t think I don’t like you, ‘cos I do. 

The way you’d said it… you couldn’t really mean…

“How’s your appetite? Still feeling sick?” you ask. 

Spencer smiles to himself, the ghost of your touch glowing warm on his cheek. “I’m feeling a lot better, actually.” 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading!!! please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed, i appreciate anything and it always inspires me to write more<3!! my requests are pretty much always open for bombshell!reader (even though this one strays a bit from their usual story haha) so if you wanna see more let me know❤️

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

[fandom-go-round]

Realizing They're in Love: Reader x BG3

Warnings: Implied Internal Trauma, Personal Relationship Issues, Gross Stuff like Falling in Love

Astarion:

            He argues with himself for a long time before love comes to mind. It’s bad enough that he’s starting to like you but love? That’s just going to make things even harder. Astarion feels like the more he tries to talk himself out of it, the worse it gets. You corner him after dinner one night and he smiles, turning up the charm. You ignore his nervousness, giving him a simple wooden box. He immediately fills with dread; you want something. Of course you do. He’s not expecting there to be a book inside, the next one in the series he’s reading. You assure him that you don’t want anything in return, giving him a gentle smile before heading to your own tent. His heart thunders in his chest, fingers trailing over the cover. He’s not in love, Astarion tells himself as he goes to start the book. He can’t be but… if he is, it’s not the worst feeling in the world. Not with you.

Gale:

            He’s not against falling in love per say, Gale just isn’t looking. Honestly he’s not. This is more social interaction than he’s had in years and he’s not trying to fuck it up, thank you very much. That doesn’t mean he can’t forget himself, especially when you start asking him questions about magic. Gale loves magic most of all and he only realizes he’s been ranting after twenty minutes. He winces, scolding himself mentally and turns to you. You’re both sitting on the floor of his tent, sipping tea in the early afternoon. He fully anticipates that you’re going to half awake, bored to tears and doing something else. Instead, you’re staring at him with rapt attention, eyes bright and small smile on your face. When he’s silent for too long you ask him to keep going, asking if he’ll keep explaining. Gale is more than happy to continue, something warm in his chest. He hopes that you’ll keep looking at him that way even after he stops talking. And you do.

Halsin:

            Loud barks and hoots draw Halsin’s attention, the druid looking up from his papers. You’re a bit away from camp, Scratch and the owlbear cub playing with you. The three of you are chasing each other and wrestling, the cub slamming into the back of your knees. Halsin watches you go flying before laughing and grabbing the cub as best you can. You half swing him around, Scratch barking as you send his friend flying. The owlbear cub gives a roar, rolling through the grass and you laugh, chasing after the dog now. Halsin can’t help but smile; you’re so kind of everyone around you and he enjoys that you can relax. He hasn’t been ignorant to the feelings developing in his chest, just focusing on different things. The warmth he feels only grows as he watches you and he vows to talk about it. Halsin is sure he recognizes the looks you send him; he just needs to find the right time.  

Karlach:

            She realizes she’s in love after a tough fight. Her blood is still pumping and she wants more enemies to show up so she can have an excuse to go wild. You’re joking around with Wyll on the other side of the battlefield, the warlock turning to say something to you. You offer a smile and begin to hike up the slope and trip. Karlach watches in slow motion as you land hard on your ass, sliding down mud straight into the river. Wyll is frozen on the edge of the bank and she quickly makes he way over, worried that you’re injured. By the time she gets over there, you’re laughing loudly, head thrown all the way back. Her heart skips a beat; you’re covered in blood and mud and all sorts of gunk but all she can see is the right smile on your face. She’s in love.

Lae’zel:

Lae’zel doesn’t call it love. It’s admiration, respect for your skills. There are very few people she would follow verses leading herself and she admits that you’re good at it. She also enjoys the sex and that’s always a bonus. The sun is just beginning to go down and you stop on the edge of a cliff to watch. Lae’zel turns to scold you (the group needs to get back to camp) but she’s struck by your figure. You look like a painting, noble and steadfast. Your face is determined but not tense, taking in the sunset. There’s something in your eyes, something softer than she expects and it takes her breath away. She swears to herself and turns away, missing the affectionate look you send her. She’s doesn’t call it love, even if deep, deep down she wishes she could.

Shadowheart:

            Night has finally fallen on a long, long day. Shadowheart is thankful that you’re the one with her on first watch tonight; your silence isn’t looming as she prays and the sound of sharpening blades is soothing. There isn’t the need to fill the silence with noise and it feels calm in a way that’s unfamiliar. Usually she finds the night comfortable but cold, like an winter breeze. You’re like the night but warm, a balm on an open wound. She smiles as she watches you, not looking away when you meet her eyes. You smile and she’s filled with affection, even as her hand throbs. The pain is worth it; you make her feel truly seen.

Wyll:

            You’re crouched by a small cave, voice low and arm outstretched. The group had just finished a fight, a camp overrun with bandits. Wyll scowled to himself, looking over the bodies strewed over the ground. The people had been innocent and he wished he had been faster. Movement catches the corner of his vision and he turns, watching as, slowly, a child comes out of the cave. They’re covered in dirt and blood but you smile and they take you hand. Wyll can’t the stop the soft look from coming onto his face as you begin the check for wounds. The world can be a dark place but you give him hope; it’s more than he deserves.

#baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 imagines #bg3 #bg3 imagine #gale x reader #astarion x reader #halsin x reader #karlach x reader #lae'zel x reader #shadowheart x reader #wyll x reader #gale imagine #gale of waterdeep #astarion imagine #astarion ancunin #halsin imagine #bg3 halsin #karlach imagine #lae'zel imagine #shadowheart imagine #wyll imagine #gale bg3 #astarion bg3 #karlach bg3 #wyll bg3 #wyll ravengard #lae'zel bg3 #gale x tav #astarion x tav #halsin x tav

[froggibus]

hiiiiiii i just wanna say i love ur work so much. i was wondering if i could request a jason todd hurt/comfort fic. i recently had a really scary experience outside of a bar, and it has been taking a toll on me. maybe something like reader and jason fight over something silly, and then something like that happens to reader and he comforts them after and feels bad about the fight before? with a lot of fluff and reassurance. maybe he gives them a bath or something:) THANK YOUUUU

Never Let Me Go - Jason Todd

Pairing: Jason Todd x gn! reader

Genre: hurt/comfort, angst -> fluff

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: after an argument with Jason, you're left to fend for yourself outside of a bar

CW: attempted assault, attempted SA, chasing, slight violence, dissociation/shock (reader), arguing, alcohol, hurt/comfort, pet names (Jason calls reader baby/hun), bathing together, jason is snarky at first

sorry this took so long! really hope you're feeling better, but if you (or anyone else reading this) ever need to talk, my inbox is always open <3 i talk about my own struggles with ptsd on this blog, and i want everyone to be able to feel safe enough to talk about theirs, too

i tried to keep the assault scene short and brief, but i've also added cuts before and after in case anyone would like to skip it.

(title slightly based on this song)

“You know that stuff is pure sugar and no alcohol, right?” 

You roll your eyes when Jason gestures to your drink with a look of distaste, hiding his snark behind the rim of his glass. You’re tempted to remind him that the foamy beer he’s pounding back has even less alcohol than your Cosmo, but think the better of it. He’s in a bitchy mood, and there’s no point making it worse.

He’d gotten into a fight with Bruce the night before, and had practically gone on a rampage through Gotham’s underground. The anger radiated off of him still when he’d showed up at your apartment an hour earlier, even after he’d flashed you a tense smile and planted a tentative kiss to your lips.

You’d told him at least three times since then that he didn’t have to come with you—given the bar was around the corner from your home, and you could stumble home from it drunk, backwards and in your sleep—but Jason had insisted. As if you ever thought Jason would be able to relax knowing you’re out at a bar in the heart of Gotham, despite your assertions that you would only be having a couple drinks and maybe some chili fries.

You swish your glass around, watching the raspberry coloured booze slosh on the sides. “We can go home if you’re not feeling up to this,” you say gently. “I don’t mind.”

He gives his broad shoulders an irritating shrug. “You wanted to get out of the house, we’re out of the house.” 

Though he doesn’t say it, you can hear the unspoken words crackling through the air. What more do you want from me?

“But do you want to leave?”

Jason’s eyes narrow, black pupils forcing out imperial blue. “I go where you go.”

It takes more effort than you’d like to admit to resist tugging at your hair. Though it’s been years since he lived in Wayne Manor, and even longer since he studied under Bruce, the lessons he learned have never left him. Including this form of aggravating, diplomatic speech where his answers gave no answers at all.

“Whatever,” you sigh under your breath, crossing your legs and tilting your body back to your drink.

Jason scoffs, “whatever? Really?”

“Yes, really!” You’re grateful that the mix of conversations and the drone of 90s rock are loud enough to cover up your rising voice. “I just wanted to get out of the house for once and you’re being mean.”

“I’m being mean?” There’s a cruel smirk on his lips. “The only reason I’m here is because of you, so that you wouldn’t have to be alone.”

“I never asked for that.”

Your heart races painfully in your chest. You’ve never liked arguing, especially not in public when the both of you have been drinking and especially not when Jason is already chafing under the expectations of others. It’s a nightmarish combination that leaves electricity sizzling in the air and everyone in the room on edge.

He chugs the rest of his beer, not even bothering to wipe away the tiny bit of white foam that catches on the shadow above his upper lip. “Fine then,” he grumbles, and tosses a fifty onto the counter. “I’ll see you.”

He leaves no room for protest, already barreling his way through the tables. By the time you’ve even processed what just happened, he’s already at the door, back muscles tensing beneath brown leather as he yanks it open hard enough to shake the hinges.

You wait until you hear the familiar rev of his motorcycle before ordering another round.

It’s late by the time you decide to pay your tab and head home. Your phone has long since been dead weight in your pocket, but even if it weren’t, you wouldn’t have bothered to check it. There was a part of you that hoped Jason would come back, that he would apologize, but that part is about as dead as your phone is.

It’s brisk outside now, and cold rain sprinkles from above. The dark rain clouds block out the moon, dim flickering street lights the only light you can see. You take a long, deep breath that clouds the air as you release it, rubbing your freezing forearms. Home is just around the corner, but that’s still an eight minute walk. Minimum.

A groan slips past your lips as you lean against the outside of the building, peering into the dark streets for any sign of a cab. A rock skids across the ground to your left and you snap your head in the direction it came from.

A man saunters towards you, his body encased in shadows. “Need a ride?”

A shiver rises up your spine. You shuffle further to your right, trying to put more distance between you and the stranger. 

He doesn’t take the hint. He moves closer, purposefully slamming his boots harder into the ground to get your attention. “I said,” he repeats, “do you need a ride?”

“No,” you swallow hard, adding a quick, “thank you.”

You don’t know this man, but you despise him. You despise his imposition, the southern twang of his voice, the fact you’re instinctually polite to him so that you don’t risk pissing him off.

Despite your plea, he keeps coming towards you. “I reckon you do.”

The alarm bells in your head start to shriek. You shove off of the wall, stumbling only slightly before you regain your balance and take off down the sidewalk. It’s dark and though you can no longer see him when you glance over your shoulder, you can hear the pounding of his boots on the pavement behind you.

And then his cold, clammy hands lock around your wrist and tug you hard. You strain against his grasp, using your entire body weight to get away, to go anywhere but here.

He’s so close you can smell the alcohol on his breath, feel the warmth of his body. Not warm the way Jason is, but warm the way a fire you shouldn’t go near is. You cry out desperately. The bar is still within sight, someone has to come out, someone has to see.

“Why not just let me show you a good time?” He says, “I’m a really nice guy if you give me a chance.”

You drive your elbow into his arm and his grip loosens enough for you to tug away. You rip your wrist from his grasp, but as you do, you lose your balance and crash onto the dirty, wet Gotham pavement. With how cold you are and the adrenaline your heart is furiously pumping through your body, you barely feel the impact.

You can’t see the expression on his face as you drag yourself across the pavement, but you hear a low chuckle. You imagine it’s similar to that of a wolf zeroing in on its prey.

And then, a booming voice cuts through the darkness. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Jason sounds pissed, but it's maybe the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard. The most beautiful string of words in the English language.

The man spins on his heels away from you just in time to catch a harsh uppercut to the face. A loud crack reverberates through the buildings, and he goes down like a sack of potatoes on the concrete next to you.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, looking up at Jason through your lashes. “You’re—how?”

“Oh, baby. Baby, baby,” he sighs, dropping to his knees on the pavement next to you. His new jeans are probably ruined from touching the ground—as are yours—but that seems to be the least of his concerns right now.

He cradles your head in his lap, his hands trailing up your damp, aching skin for any sign of injury. You shiver, closing your eyes and letting Jason hold you. The adrenaline flooding your veins has not yet diluted, and the calloused warmth from Jason’s hands is the only thing keeping you from floating away.

“I didn’t leave, baby, would never leave you. I was waiting around back when I heard you and,” he sighs, “I’m so sorry.”

His words are faint, so faint, and more gentle than you’ve ever heard him speak. Though he clutches you tightly to him, the feeling registers as barely a whisper. And then you’re on your feet, propped up against his side as he helps you back to where he propped his bike.

Your mind is somewhere else now. You’d have completely forgotten about your own body if it weren’t for the frantic, rhythmic shove of Jason’s heart against his ribcage with every step you take.

You’re not sure how you got back to your apartment, but you’re sure it was through no small effort on Jason’s part. Your waist is warm from where his hand rests—he’s refused to let you go for even a moment since he saw you on that pavement. 

You shiver violently even after you return to the warmth of your home. Jason had wrapped you in his jacket but even that did little to stop the shaking. 

He cups your face, a soft intensity in his eyes. “Let’s get you warmed up, hm?”

You barely react to his touch, or to his words. It doesn’t take a genius to know you’re in shock—Jason’s seen it more than enough times in his lifetime to recognize it at a glance. 

The shivering, that faraway and glassy look in your eyes, the way your lips move as if they’ll form words but no sound comes out. Your pupils themselves have almost doubled in size from the adrenaline coursing through your system. 

He’d take the crowbar a thousand damn times if it meant he would never have to see you like this. He would give away all that he has, and all that he is, to never subject you to this kind of pain.

“I’ll be right back,” he says, and starts towards the dark hallway leading to your bedroom and bathroom.

You let out a choked gasp—the most sound you’ve managed since earlier—and Jason whips around. Blue eyes snap to yours, looking more like broken glass through the tears catching on your own lashes. 

Don’t leave, you want to say. Not even for a minute, not even for a second. But your words fail you, and all you have to fall back on is a gasp of air and the tears in your eyes.

Jason understands, though. “Let’s go together, then.”

He grabs one of your hands in his, and holds your waist with the other. You walk like that down the hall, Jason holding you tight and guiding you to your bathroom. He helps you settle down on the toilet seat while he runs a hot bath.

Jason has you sit on the side of the bathtub, only your bare feet resting in the warm water. He sits with you, his legs on either side of your own and his arms around your waist. Already, the shaking has subsided and your eyes have started to clear. Relief floods his system, wiping away the guilt that’s been bubbling in his stomach.

He waits a few minutes, before saying, “let’s get you out of those clothes and into the bath.”

It’s posed more like a question, his fingers tracing inquisitive circles on your hip. He’s asking, you realize, if it would be okay for him to help you undress. If you’re comfortable being naked in front of him right now. The kindness of the gesture has your shoulders dropping from your ears.

“Y-yeah,” you manage.

Jason keeps his touch firm, steady, while he peels your dirty shirt over your head. He has you raise your feet above the water so he can help you with your pants and underwear, discarding your clothes in a pile on the tiled floor. 

He squeezes your shoulders reassuringly when he sees you hesitate at the side of the bathtub before finally stepping in and letting your aching body settle in the warm water. 

It’s an immediate relief. The chill your skin has taken on, the ice running through your blood, starts to defrost. 

Jason watches you relax into the warm porcelain, your impossibly tense muscles finally loosening. “Feeling any better?” He asks quietly.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble quietly.

He grabs a washcloth from the drawer beneath the counter. “Hey, none of that.”

“I just,” you take a deep, shaking breath, “if we had never gone out tonight, none of this would have happened and you wouldn’t have had to help me and—”

Jason splashes warm water over your head. “None of that,” he repeats. “I don’t want to hear any of that.”

“But—”

“Nothing that happened tonight was any fault of yours.” He brushes the wet washcloth across your face, wiping away stray tears. “You did nothing wrong. I should never have left you, plain and simple.”

“It’s not your fault either, Jay.”

He strokes the washcloth over your forehead. “I’m supposed to protect you, hun. I didn’t do a very good job of it tonight.”

“Get in here with me?” You clutch his forearm.

He chuckles. It’s been a very, very long time since Jason Todd could comfortably fit in a normal sized bathtub, but for you, he’d do anything. He’s  gentle climbing in the bath behind you, propping his legs around the outside of yours so you can comfortably lay back on him.

It’s a cramped fit, it couldn’t possibly be comfortable for anyone—but Jason sucks it up for your sake. Despite the ways his knees ache from the angle he keeps his legs, it all feels worth it when you lay your head on his chest.

“Thank you for being here,” you say quietly.

He plants a gentle kiss on the top of your head. “For you? Anything.”

And you know he means it.

(if you enjoy content like this, interactions go a long way! comments, likes & rbs are always greatly appreciated ^-^ !!)

Masterlist | DC Masterlist

#jason todd #red hood #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd angst #jason todd hurt/comfort #red hood x you #red hood x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff #batfam x reader

[seokjinsonlyone]

How do you think each of the members are like as a best friend? I'm curious as to your take. You always somehow get them spot on.

a/n: first of all,,, thank you!!! second idk if this is what you was looking for but it turned out to be a luh calm mini headcanon,,, lemme know what u think 🫢

namjoon:

wants to hang out 24/7; always tries to make you be friends with his other friends so he can have one huge super group of friends to hang out with all the time

lowkey your biggest opp; like you’ll be having a heart to heart ranting about your life and what’s going on and “why is it always me? 😩” and then he’ll read you for filth detailing exactly why whatever’s happening is happening and what you need to do to fix it; and you sitting there like 🤥 because you was just tryna complain

perpetually busy but will literally drop whatever he’s doing the second you say you need him

seokjin:

people wonder if y’all are even friends because all you do is bicker because neither of you can fight the urge to play devil’s advocate on every single subject

the type to be the brother you never wanted; always tryna scare your boo things away; loves either going to your family home or having you at his; randomly puts you in headlocks to assert dominance; posts awful 0.5 pics of you on his close friends story

he may play with you but he don’t play about you; he can be mean to you because he loves you but it’s a no for everyone else; 100% not afraid to check someone who say something slick about you

yoongi:

likes to buy you random gifts in lieu of actually expressing affection

takes pride in being your bestie; if anyone else claims to be your best friend he’s gonna look at them funny and give them some push back; goes to you later on to confirm that He is in fact your best friend as if you’re not allowed to have more than one

regardless of whether it’s his cup of tea or not when you want to do something with him he always goes along with it

hoseok:

sends or tags you in every single video he finds even slightly amusing and expects you to react to them all; (bonus) you’d definitely make one of those muni long made for me videos

the one you call when you’re bored at work and y’all stay on the phone yapping for the rest of your shift

your shopping buddy!; sometimes you’ll both order a stuff online or maybe you’ll go thrifting or to target or something and then go back to his place and do a lil fashion show with all the stuff you bought

jimin:

would have the type of relationship with you that makes prospective partners suspicious because y’all are too close; it’s not your fault that people don’t understand y’all soul ties!!

the devil on your shoulder at all times; he’s the one you go to when you want validation to do something you know you shouldn’t do

whatever someone tells jimin they sign up to telling you too; you’re a package deal <3; there’s an actual tea party that takes place once a month that’s dedicated to spilling tea

taehyung:

the type to stick beside you no matter what; doesn’t matter how wrong you are no one gon ever catch him on anyone else’s side

has an uncanny ability to talk you into his harebrained schemes so you’re always getting into escapades and shenanigans

follows you on spotify to monitor and critique what you’re listening to; you’ll get random screenshots of what you’re listening to and what he thinks you should be listening to; never admits when you put him on to an artist or song

jungkook:

a fellow dnd warrior; may not have your back immediately but he will always have it eventually

you speak in terms of tiktok audios and obscure references of things that happen in your day to day life that were unreal

y’all will agree to go on a diet together and then proceed to watch mukbang/cooking videos for 3 hours and end up breaking the diet within a day of starting it

#ask #ask of interest #bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfction #bts headcanons #namjoon fanfic #seokjin fluff #yoongi x reader #hoseok fic #jimin fanfiction #taehyung x you #jungkook fanfic

[cosmichorrorsarestillnicerthanme]

Parenthood-Maki, Mai, Nobara, and Miwa X Male Himbo Reader Pt.2

@exolocke : Hey I saw ur Jujutsu Kaisen women with Himbo reader, and I was curious if that could get a part two for when the relationship is more developed and more life long topics are brought up in it, stuff like the topic of kids, or other things that come up in a long term relationship, I didn’t see ur stance on NSFW topics so I totally understand if that’s not something included if it’s out of ur comfort zone.

Anyway thanks for taking time to read this and have a nice day 😊

(thank you for the request! I’m perfectly fine with NSFW though I will admit I’m not all that good at it. Originally this was going to be mostly NSFW but then the writing goblin in my head kind of just… took the request idea and ran with it in a different direction.)

But enough of that, YOUR WISH IS MY COMMAND!

Warnings: Light Angst, Suggestive Content, Mentions Of Violence

Words: 1,693

Maki

You and Maki have been together for years.

There were of course highs and lows as with any relationship.

But the both of you moved past them with a bit of hard headed determination and a lot of the two of you being the two of you.

And this of course led to the inevitable that everyone could see from a mile away except you two.

Marriage, the merging of the last of the Zenin clan and your own family.

It was something that neither of you ever expected to happen while everyone else had money on how long it would take before one of you popped the question.

Of course Gojo won that bet, even from beyond the grave, but he’s not important right now.

So now the two of you are married.

And the both of you were being very, very, very stiff around one another.

It was worse than when the both of you started dating.

All because the both of you had a question they wanted to ask the other.

A question that sat between the both of you like a loaded gun.

A question that you were the first to ask.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

“Maki…” You began to say before trailing off while the both of you lazed about on a slaw day while the rain was beating against the building.

“Yeah?” Maki tentatively asked, already knowing the question about to be asked and still not knowing how she would answer it.

“What’s your thoughts on having kids?”

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Maki’s world screeched to a halt as she turned the question over and over in her head.

“What did she think about having kids?”

It was never something she thought about.

Never something she ever considered to be possible.

And yet now that she had been asked the question she had to decide if she wanted to have one.

It was something she could answer easily.

Yes, she’d love to have kids with you, and raise them with you.

But there was more to it than that.

There was…

No, they weren’t here anymore, she was free of that place.

And if there was one thing she’s learned from you it's this.

Don’t just think, feel too.

So Maki did exactly that and answered your question in the only way she knew how.

With her whole being.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Inumaki was concerned about Maki.

Sure she could probably slap a curse and kill it but still… She was a friend.

A friend who hasn’t come to training in quite a while.

Which for anyone else would be perfectly fine.

But Maki wasn’t other people, she was Maki.

Training was what she did for fun.

And Inumaki wanted to know why she wasn’t coming to training and why she was always sleeping or eating weird foods.

Well, weirder foods than usual that is.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Inumaki slipped behind the corner as you and Maki talked.

“-you okay?” You asked the muscular woman.

“Yeah, just tired, and nauseous, why the fuck does growing a kid make you feel like you’ve just gotten off a damn roller coaster?” Maki asked with a groan while leaning on the wall.

Meanwhile, Inumaki was having his world flipped on its head at the sudden information he had been given.

Maki Zenin, the strongest woman he knows bar none, is pregnant with your kid.

And he just figured this out because he stuck his nose where it shouldn’t have been.

He needs to run, and fast.

Really, really, REALLY fucking fast.

So that's exactly what he did as soon as the two of you weren’t paying attention. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Inumaki’s current train of thought could be most accurately described as “Oh god, Oh fuck, Oh god, Oh fuck.”

And it was for good reason considering what he just learned.

He prayed to god Maki wouldn’t kill him if he accidentally let it slip.

Oh who was he kidding, she absolutely would.

Inumaki burst into the faculty room where his friends minus Maki sat.

“Whoa! What's wrong with you, Toge!?” the large ball of fluff known as Panda asked.

And without thinking, the white haired man exclaimed “SALMON ROE!”

He then slapped both his prosthetic and his real hand over his mouth as dread overtook him.

Meanwhile everyone in the room looked like Inumaki had just pulled the pin on a grenade and tossed it.

Mai

Mai Zenin sat on the couch, devouring her fifth bag of chips from a bowl that was placed on her swollen belly.

“You're a hungry little shit ain’t ya?” Mai affectionately asked the small human growing inside of her.

Mai was not expecting a response when she asked this but she got one in the form of the baby kicking.

For the very first time.

“…Oh.” Was all Mai was able to say as a flood of emotions overwhelmed her.

Mai was someone who never let out what she was feeling.

It was something she learned from when she was young.

A tool for survival.

But now she had no need to use it.

Her life was filled with friends, with family, true family.

She had a life filled with love, with everything she could want plus more.

She even had you, one of the most powerful living sorcerers as the one who loved her.

And now, even more was about to be added to this dreamlike life of hers.

A child, one she wouldn’t let go of even if she was dead.

A human that would receive as much love as Mai could offer.

A human that would receive as much love as you could offer as well.

A human that wouldn’t have to fear what she did, not only because the Zenin were gone, but because Mai would simply never allow that to happen.

That is the promise she made to the child growing inside of her in that exact moment.

That is the promise she made to her child, the one that she would raise and support, no matter what.

Nobara

Nobara held her daughter in her arms, looking into her sleeping face with her one good eye.

It was a surreal experience.

“Ya know you were a lotta trouble to bring out here right? How the heck are you so dang peaceful now?” Nobara whispered the question before turning her face to look at you a few feet away from her, sleeping in a chair, your arms crossed, but more than ready to turn any cursed spirit that tried to show its ugly mug into ground beef.

“Prolly cause of your dad, he always had a good poker face, though it was probably a good thing Yuji got to that Mahito guy before he did, If what I’ve heard bout’ that warpath he was on after I got taken out of commission and his domain expansion is to be believed he would’ve turned the entire area into one of those crazy things that M.C. Esher guy made.” Nobara muttered to herself before looking back at her child.

Her Child.

Nobara turned the phrase over and over in her head.

Didn’t quite make sense to her yet.

This small, tiny little thing in her arms came from you and her.

This little girl was the very manifestation of the love you and Nobara shared.

A physical manifestation of everything you and Nobara went through to reach this point.

It was something she needed to wrap her head around, though her heart was more than already there.

She could already tell that this little girl was going to be the greatest part of her life with you.

And she couldn’t wait to get that life truly started.

Miwa

You, Miwa, and a small, little boy dressed for school walked side by side on the street.

“I’m gonna make so many friends!” the small boy exclaimed, pumping his fist into the air, copying his fathers excitable nature.

“Oh I know you will, ain’t that right Kasumi?” You asked your wife and the love of your life.

Miwa turned her eyes down to her son and then raised her eyes to yours.

Eyes that were filled with sadness.

“Of course, our little boy will be the most popular boy in school.”

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

You and Miwa waved goodbye as the two of you walked away from the school.

“Heh, pretty sure that teacher thought we were Yakuza.” You said with a chuckle.

“If you started to wear your clothes right she might not get that impression.” Miwa said with a slightly teasing tone that held a sadness within.

“Sigh What’s up with you Kasumi? You’ve been acting weird since this morning.” You asked your wife in concern.

“It’s no-” Miwa began before being cut off by you saying “Don’t say “It’s nothing of concern” Kasumi, I can tell when something is wrong with you.”

Miwa was silent for a moment before trying to say something, but stumbling all over her words “It’s… I… schools and… and curses…”

“Don’t worry Kasumi, curses aren’t going to go after him, not with the both of us around.” You told your wife in an attempt to soothe her.

“B-but what if-” Miwa began before you wrapped your arm around her, pulling her close to you and saying.

“We can’t worry about what if’s, we won’t be able to protect him from everything, it's impossible to do that, but we can do everything we can while we are here for him to lean on. As long as we love him and as long as we do our utmost to protect him from everything we can while steering him right, that’s the best we can do. I know you want to keep him away from the things that took our friends but we can’t, all we can do is what we can do. I’m just as afraid as you are but being afraid won’t do anything, doing what we can will.”

“I-i know, you're right as usual, but can we just go over that place, one more time tonight?” Miwa asked, wanting to do everything she can to protect the little boy you and her made together.

“Of course, I was just about to suggest the same.”

#jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #miwa kasumi x reader #mai zenin x reader #maki zenin x reader #nobara kugisaki x reader #nobara kugisaki #mai zenin #maki zenin #miwa kasumi

[uhhidkkenny]

𝘈𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵？

𝔻𝕦𝕞𝕓 𝔾𝕠𝕛𝕠 𝕏 ℕ𝕖𝕣𝕕𝕪 𝕗 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

꧁𝚂𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜: 𝙶𝚘𝚓𝚘 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚜 𝚊 𝚝𝚞𝚝𝚘𝚛. 𝚆𝚑𝚘 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚢 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕 𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚜 𝚝𝚘?

꧁𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝟷𝟾+ 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝, 𝚖𝚞𝚕𝚝𝚒𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚊𝚜𝚖𝚜, 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 (𝚜𝚕𝚞𝚝,𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚍) , 𝙿 𝚒𝚗 𝚅, 𝙵𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚕, 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚝 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚝 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚔.

꧁𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 𝟸.𝟿𝚔

You had to basically pinch yourself to collect your thoughts. Escaping the tunnel vision you were having, you were met with the prettiest blue eyes you have ever seen. (not like you haven’t stared at them before) It was that gorgeous douchebag that everyone has a crush on. You had multiple classes with Gojo in highschool but you never expected to see him get into the same University as you. Turns out you guys share 2 classes this semester but you do your best to avoid him and his friends. He was only 2 feet away from you waiting for your answer but your forgot what he even asked. “I-I’m sorry what did you say?” with a shaky voice red cheeks you finally acknowledged the man in front of you.

“I’m behind on some stuff in chemistry and I was trying to see if you were free tonight?” He asks and you feel yourself practically drooling. “I see you studying all the time so I assume your smart.” He says with the biggest grin. If he wasn’t so attractive you would have not even acknowledged him. You are smart but he only thinks you’re smart because your reading in the library right now. He has never even noticed you before today so why should you even help.

“Uh sorry I’m a litt-“ “I’ll pay you.” He says before you can even finish your sentence. He sees your hesitation and proceeds to admit, “If I flunk chemistry I’ll be forced to drop out.” “I’m sorry, I’ve never really tutored before. I don’t know if-“ “I’ll give you $200 if you tutor me for the test coming up.” You hesitate again. “Please y/n.” You stand there in shock. Lips slightly parted. He actually knows your name? You’re absolutely in shock. You both stare at each other for a few moments before you finally give in. He smirks, “Great. Give me your phone.”

“I’m sorry?” You said with a look of confusion but already handing him your phone. He immediately gets to work, unlocking your phone “you should really get a password” he says thinking out loud as he continues. He then puts his info into your phone and stretches him arm super high up, strikes a pose and takes a picture. You are simply dumbfounded. This man is a fucking airhead. He hands your phone back. “I texted myself so I have your number! I’ll text you when to come over tonight.” He says walking off and out of the library. Your just left standing there flustered and speechless.

So here you are standing outside Gojos apartment at 8pm. He didn’t live on campus like everyone else cause he had money. It was only about a 5 minute walk. You texted him to let him know you’re here. To your surprise he’s waiting at the door for you. “Hello.” You say standing in front of the 6ft + man that towers over you. “Come on in! I got snacks.” He says practically shoving you inside. You can’t help but chuckle, he’s treating this like it a sleepover.

He leads you to his giant room of this bachelor pad that he calls an apartment and it’s actually really cozy. You set all your stuff down trying to avoid knocking over the snacks and sit in 1 of the 2 chairs that were already pulled out. You noticed how he went and put his phone by his nightstand and you were thankful that he was prepared to actually study. He takes a seat next to you, scoots a little too close, and you begin the study session.

About 30 minutes into the study session, you suggest he grabs his textbook so he can actually take notes. He’s been practically leaning on your shoulder while you read to him and explain everything about the test you guys will be taking next week. “I like it better this way though. Feels like your the teacher and I can actually pay attention. You know..” what started as his explanation turned into 2 hours and back and forth conversation of absolutely nothing. You’ve both been laughing and eating on the snacks he assorted. It feels more like a date then it did a tutoring session.

Your sitting in the desk chair, leaned back, with your sock covered feet propped up on his bed while he lays his long body across the end on the bed, propped up on his elbow. “Gojo this-“ “Satoru” he says sternly. “Satoru, we haven’t gotten anything done. I feel like a terrible tutor.” You admit, feeling guilty because he already sent you the money to tutor him before you showed up. He ignored what you said. “I like when you say my name.” You roll your eyes. He’s made stupid flirty comments through the night but from what you can tell it’s just his personality. You pull out your phone “I’m being serious. I’m gonna send back the mon-“ “No you’re not.” He says snatching your phone and putting it under his back.

You immediately shoot up to your feel standing at the end of his bed. “Give me my phone.” You whine. It’s like the past few hours you guys have become great friends. You would never act like this in front of someone you barely know, but it’s like you’ve known Satoru your whole life. He moves your phone to the back pocket of his jeans. He sits up to where his legs are hanging off the bed. One leg on each side of you so you’re standing between them. You cheeks automatically turn pink as he adjusts to where he’s leaned back. Supporting his upper body weight with his arms as he leans back.

“Beg for it.” He says with the biggest shit-eating grin you’ve ever seen. You scoff trying to pay off the sudden pulse you feel between your legs. “Can I please have my phone?” You ask half ass not wanting to embarrass yourself. “You can do better than that nerd.” He teases as he starts swing his legs back and forth at the end of the bed. You stay still for a moment before trying to quickly reach for phone that was sticking out his back pocket. He easily grabs your wrist and stand up laughing. You let out a chuckle too but it quickly fades as he towers over you and you begin to step back.

“Aw that wasn’t very nice of you.” He says hand still on your wrist and you continue backing up but he follows your every step until your ass is pressed against his desk. “It’s not nice to take people things.” You say with a dramatic angry pout looking to the side. He releases your wrist only to grab your face to look at him. Your eyes widen as you see him looking you up and down. “I’m sorry. Why don’t I make it up to you.” He asks as he gets closer. Pressing his body into yours. Hand still on your face as he wraps his free arm around your waist.

“W-we should get back to studying Gojo.” He pulls your face even closer to his before he moves his face to the crook of your neck. Leaving open mouthed misses “My name is Satoru. I need you to remember that y/n.” His cold tone sends a shiver down your spine. You breathing becomes shaky as he slowly moves his mouth further up your neck to your jaw. “Sat~oruu what if you fail your test.” “I’ll get some nerd to give me the answers.” He says bluntly before pressing his lips to yours softly.

You feel like a statue. You’ve had sex before, you’ve had casual hookups,but it’s been awhile and you never thought Gojo Satoru would make a move on you. He starts to pull away and that’s when you come to your senses and push your mouth against his desperately. The kiss is slow but passionate, as he bites at your bottom lip, you gasp giving him the opportunity to slip his tongue in. Your hands begin to roam his body as his find their way to your back and ass. He is savoring the taste of your tongue on his. Swirling his tongue with yours, flattening his tongue to rub it along yours, even so much as sucking your tongue.

He pulls away to catch his breath, he looks absolutely stunning. His eyes are hooded, lips plump, and face is slightly wet. He looks just as turned on as you. There’s a string of saliva connecting to both of you. He grabs right underneath your plump ass to sit you on his desk completely. “Open” is all he says before you open your mouth with your tongue lolled out. He takes his long slender fingers and slides them right in slowly but he pushes them as far as he can before you let out a light gag. He shifts his body to stand between your legs as he pumps his fingers in and out of your open mouth.

“I bet you’d look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.” You close your mouth around his fingers to let out a moan and begin to suck. He pulls his now shiny slick fingers out of your mouth and moves them to between your legs. Thank god you wore a skirt, now he has easy access.moving your panties to the side he runs his fingers against your slit as you wince from the sensitivity. “You’re already so wet for me. If I would have known you were a nerdy little slut I would have done this ages ago.” He says slipping a finger into your sopping wet hole and you let out a hushed moan. His free hand came up to your shirt, lifting it up over your tits, and begins to suck at your nipples.

Your can’t help the small moans escaping as he adds anything finger. “Look at you. You’re leaking all over my desk. Does it feel that good? No one’s ever touched you like this have they nerd?” Your cheeks are red. You can’t even muster up a response to the pure filth leaving his lips that are only adding to the pressure building in your core. Suddenly he’s pulling out his fingers and getting on his knees. He’s grabbing your ankles and placing the heels of your feet on the desk. Spreading your legs, leaving your pussy on full display.

“Such a pretty pussy, all spread open for me. You gonna cum all over my face for me?” He says teasingly while he rubs at your clit with his thumb. You nod your head as you look down to try and meet his gaze. His eyes are locked on your pussy like he’s looking at the Mona Lisa. “Please Satoru” you whine with impatience as he continues to rub slow circles on your clit. He stops his motion to place both of his hands on your inner thighs, spreading your legs even farther while leaning in to leave sloppy kisses on your pussy.

All the air in your lungs leave as soon as he looks up at you and he focuses his attention on your clit, flicking his tongue and sucking. “Ah~ Fuck Satoru just like that.” Your moans have gotten harder to hold back. You pull one of your hand to cover your mouth while using the other arm to support your weight. He slaps your thigh and you yelp. “Let me hear you. Wanna know how good I’m making this pussy feel. Tastes so good f’me baby” he says while going back to leaving the sloppiest open mouth knees on your clit. He’s basically making out with your pussy but his tongue is rubbing you in all the right places.

You’re so close to cumming. You’ve removed the hand that was covering your mouth to the back of his head to grind yourself on his tongue. You feel he let out a laugh against your clit. Your thighs begin to shake as you throw your head back and let out a guttural moan once the heat in your stomach finally over flows. Panting as you’re riding through your orgasm, he slows his pace and pulls away to look at you. “Good girl”

He stands up from between your thighs and you pull him in for another sloppy kiss as slips his cock out from his sweatpants and smacks it against your clit. You wince from the sensitivity but pull awash to look down and you notice his length. It’s got the prettiest bubblegum pink tip but your vid’s my nervous. “You afraid to take some dick nerd? I know it’ll fit.” He says teasing.

You take the opportunity to kick him in his chest lightly to back him up to the end of the bed. Once you get up you leave your tight shirt on, but pulled over your titties, and your skirt , but remove your panties. You push Satoru to fall on backwards in the bed. The teasing was too much. Plus you knew you had good pussy so why not show out a little bit. You slowly crawl on top of him until your wet push lips are grinding on his hard cock under you. His hands are on your waist guiding your hips until you slowly lift your hips off of his to line him up with your wet entrance and drop on his length all at once. The sting wasn’t unbearable but it made you take your time at first.

After you feel yourself adjusted somewhat to his length you start to grind yourself on him. His little whines of anticipation and his cute pout as he pants looking up at you. “Aww you look so pretty like this. Maybe if you ask nicely I’ll ride you.” He huffs. “P-please ride me. You’re so fuck-ing tight baby.” You lift your hips up slowly and drop them down just a little faster. Simultaneous moans fall from both of your lips as you set a pace. Satoru’s eyes were fixated on your titties bouncing so you decided to give him a better view. You take your hand off his chest and start to rub at your nipples. He lets out the sluttiest groan, clearly happy with the improved view, and moves his hands to your waist. He plants his feet on the bed and starts to thrust upward into you matching your pace. “S-Satoru feels so good.” “I know it Ah~ does nerd. Your creaming all around my Fuck~ my cock.” He says as he pounds into you. You eventually slump forward from the harsh thrusts. He takes this as his sign to flip you over, fold you in half, and fuck you like he hates you.

“Greedy little pussy s’just sucking me right in huh? You like it? You like seducing your students, nerd?” Your pussy was clenching around his cock and you knew you were close again. “Fuuuuck I’m gonna cum S’toru” “Go on and cum. You’re gonna clean me up after anyways you little slut.” And that was the final straw. “Fuckfuckfuck Satoru yes” You let out a loud moan as you convulsed on his cock. He kept pounding into you while you rode through your high once more.

Suddenly he’s got a handful of your hair pulling you to get on your hands and knees. Facing the end of the bed. Pulling you in front of his giant, glistening, angry pinked tip cock. “Clean your mess.” He says looking down at you with a giant smirk. You immediately get to work. Licking all over his pelvis area, the tops of his thighs, even some parts of his v line before getting to his cock.

Leaving open mouthed kisses all over his cock while he was so close was a dangerous game. He tightened the grip he had on the back of your hair. “Open your mouth.” He demanded again and you obliged again. Only for him to shove his cock all the way down your throat. He set a steady and rough pace as he fucked your throat. Throwing his head back while he let out the prettiest grunts. Your gagging and tears were only fueling him further as you look up at him. “Gonna cum down your throat ok? Gotta swallow it all like a good girl.” He said and you hum in agreement around his back as his pace turns brutal. He’s using your throat like a flesh light. A few more thrusts and he releases his hot cum into your mouth and thrusts it down your throat.

After swallowing it all you look up at Satoru who is leaning down to give you a kiss. It’s full of passion. Both letting out moans into the kiss he bring your body up to your knees so he can lay you down on the bed. Once you’re laid back on his pillows, he collapses directly on top of you with a dramatic groan. You laugh unsure of what to say. You take your hand and start running your fingers through his white locks. He wraps his arms around your waist as he keeps his head on your lower stomach.

“Hey are you free tomorrow? I got a math test coming up and I don’t wanna fail.”

You can feel his grin against your tummy as you roll your eyes, even though you probably won’t be leaving this bed until the morning.

A/N: hopefully y’all like this since y’all asked for it💕

Taglist: @ahseyy

#jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk satoru #jjk Satoru smut #gojo smut #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru #jujutsu satoru #jujutsu kaisen satoru #jjk season 2 #jjk gojo #jjk x you #satoru smut #gojou satoru x y/n #smut #jujutsu gojo #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo saturo #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk spoilers #jjk fanart #anime #one piece #gear 5 luffy #luffy

[youaintnothinbuta]

No one else is writing Newsies stories as good as yours! Please give yourself a pat on the back from me, your friendly neighborhood anon. :) I also have a request. Could you write a reverse hurt/comfort where Jack is injured or sick and the reader takes care of him?

A/N: thank you so much, this made my day the moment I read it :,)

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me?” — jack kelly x reader

Summary: Jack got into a fight with Oscar and Morris and didn’t tell you, despite having some pretty nasty bruises. You found out, of course, and help him.

Pairing: jack kelly x fem!reader

Word count: 520

Warnings: fluff, mention of fighting/injury.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The late morning light spilled into Jack's room, casting a soft glow on the worn wooden floor. Pretty much everyone had finished their paper hawking and most the newsies were gathered outside, hanging out, like every other day. You, however, were focused on Jack.

You approached him, eager to greet him with a hug. As your arms wrapped around him, you expected the usual reciprocation, but something was off. Jack winced, a sharp intake of breath escaping him.

“What's wrong?” you asked, pulling back slightly, concern etching your features.

“Nothin', just a bit sore is all,” he replied, attempting to brush off the discomfort.

Your gaze narrowed, detecting the faint wince in his eyes. “Jack, don't lie to me. What happened?”

He hesitated for a moment before sighing. “Just a little scuffle with Oscar and Morris. Nothing I couldn't handle.”

Your worry deepened, and you insisted, “Let me see.”

Jack, reluctant but compliant, peeled off his shirt to reveal a canvas of deep bruises scattered across his sides, back, and shoulders. Your eyes widened as a small gasp left your lips, a mix of concern and mild frustration coursing through you.

“Why the hell didn't you tell me?” you scolded gently, your fingers grazing over the contusions.

“It ain't that bad, really,” Jack muttered, clearly trying to downplay the situation.

“Jack, you can't keep this stuff from me,” you chided, “I would have seen eventually. Have you at least done anything to help your body recover?”

He sighed in response, not really knowing what to say.

Guiding him to sit on his bed, you hurried to fetch some ice and a tea towel from the communal area. Returning to Jack's room, you pressed the makeshift ice pack against his aching bruises. The tension in his muscles slowly eased as the cold numbed the pain.

“Better?” you asked, your gaze meeting his.

Jack managed a half-smile, a flicker of gratitude in his eyes. “Yeah, better. But, Y/N, you don't have to worry about every little fight.”

Your expression softened. “No, Jack, I do. I’m your girl. I’m supposed to be there for you.”

He nodded a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken bond that held you both.

“You’re my girl.” He repeated you, patting your hip gently as a ‘thank you’.

The minutes stretched into an unhurried cadence, your touch provided comfort as you gently traced the edges of the bruises. Jack, usually the protector, allowed himself to be vulnerable in your care.

After keeping the ice on his bruises for a little while longer, you took it off and let the rest of the ice melt in the sink, leaving the tea towel to dry.

“I’m sorry for not telling you when it happened,” he admitted, his voice laced with regret.

You smiled, sitting back down next to him on his bed. “I’ll never be angry with you, not for fighting the Delancey’s, you know that? I will get angry though, if you don’t let me look after you when you need it.”

“I promise I’ll tell you,” he whispered, his eyes locking onto yours with a sincerity that resonated deeply.

“Thank you.” You mumbled, placing a kiss on his cheek.

#newsies #newsies broadway #newsies jack kelly #jack kelly newsies #newsies imagine #racetrack newsies #race newsies #jack kelly #jeremy jordan newsies #jack kelly x reader #reader x jack kelly #jack kelly fluff #jack kelly x reader smut #jack kelly hcs #jack kelly headcanons #jack kelly smut #jeremy jordan jack kelly #newsies headcanons #newsies fanfic #newsies smut

[27dragons]

New Year Countdown: Dec 24

And we're back to Winteriron for a Rockstar AU!

Dec 24 - Winteriron - Rockstar AU - Eggnog

“The thing is,” Tony said, “it feels stupid to complain. Like I don’t appreciate all the amazing things in my life.”

“And yet, you’re going to complain anyway,” Natasha said, but she looked vaguely amused, so that was probably all right. It had taken Tony a while to understand that his lead guitarist and second vocalist hid her affection behind sarcasm, and her concern behind fierceness. He knew how to read her now, though.

“I’m going to complain anyway,” he agreed. “Not that I expect you to agree. Your snugglebunny is traveling with us.”

“Sam is part of the band, so it would be difficult to have a tour without him,” she agreed solemnly.

“Why did I agree to a tour over Christmas?” Tony wondered.

“Because it’s the time of year when everyone is digging a little deeper into their pockets?” Natasha guessed. She reached over the table to snare his glass. She rolled the liquor around, watching the way it clung to the glass, and then helped herself to a swallow. “You could’ve dated someone in the band, too, you know. Steve is right there.”

Tony made a face. “Dating in the band leads to band drama,” he said morosely. “And trust me, if I dated Steve, there would be nothing but drama.”

“That’s true,” Natasha conceded. “The world’s finest songwriting duo, but as soon as he steps away from the keyboard, you’re at each other’s throats.” She grinned. “It would be fantastic publicity.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “But here I am, on Christmas Eve, drinking alone in an empty hotel bar.”

“What am I, the Ghost of Christmas Past?”

Tony waved a hand dismissively. “You’re just waiting for Sam to get back from the roadies’ Christmas party and then you’ll go back to your room and have wild monkey sex while wearing nothing but a mistletoe headband and a pair of socks with jingle bells sews into them.”

“That is a disturbingly specific mental image,” Natasha said, stealing another sip of his whiskey. “You’re not usually this down after a show. Did something go wrong?”

The show itself had been great. The hall had been sold out, the fans had been beside themselves with excitement, and they’d rounded out the set lit and encores with some holiday tunes that they’d reworked into the Avengers’ signature style, which had been a huge hit. Tony would normally have still been riding the high, but— “Bucky didn’t text me before the show.”

“That’s odd,” Natasha admitted. “Is he okay?”

“Yeah, he sent one a bit later. I got it while we were breaking down.”

“So?”

“So it’s Christmas Eve and I’m stuck in a hotel twelve hundred miles from my boyfriend and I don’t even have any of his eggnog to keep me warm.”

“Bucky does make the best eggnog,” Natasha said. “I can never go back to the crappy stuff out of a carton.” She made a show of looking at her wrist, which didn’t have a watch on it. “And it’s Christmas Day, by now.”

“Thanks, that makes it all better,” Tony snarked. 

Natasha glanced past Tony, toward the bar door. “Sam’s back,” she said, standing up. “Time to go have wild monkey sex.”

“Don’t forget the socks,” Tony said, rallying enough to give her a quick smile. “Thanks for letting me complain.”

“You owe me,” Natasha said, giving him the small, secretive smile that was ten times more genuine than the wide, cheerful one she reserved for the stage and the fans.

“What else is new? Go on, have fun. I don’t want to see or hear either of you until we’re loading the bus on the 26th. Enjoy your day off.”

“I intend to. You too.”

Tony snorted and took a slow sip of his whiskey so he wouldn’t be tempted to turn around and watch her walk away.

“Merry Christmas, baby,” said Bucky, and Tony turned around so fast he got dizzy and nearly knocked over his chair.

“Bucky?” Tony’s boyfriend was standing there, a thickly-stuffed backpack over one shoulder. “What the— How the hell did you get here?”

“Airplane,” Bucky said with a grin, and offered Tony a thermos. “Couldn’t stand the thought of you having to drink crappy carton eggnog on Christmas.”

Tony took the thermos and immediately set it aside, then flung himself into Bucky’s arms, laughing. “Oh, god, I can’t believe you’re here.”

“I was supposed to be in time for the show,” Bucky said, “but the flight got delayed.” He buried his face against Tony’s neck, squeezing tight. His nose was cold, and Tony didn’t care at all. “Missed you, doll.”

“I missed you, too,” Tony sighed. “Merry Christmas.”

#my writing #countdown to 2024 #winteriron #with background natsam #rockstar au

[monsterfuckerconfessions]

For several years now I’ve been wanting to buy a knotted dildo (why do they never have smaller ones) but my dad often helps me with finances because I’m really bad at math and I would be super embarrassed if he found out. I doubt he would be mad at finding out I’m a monsterfucker, but it WOULD be super awkward, especially since a lot of knotted ones are labeled “dog” I don’t want my family to have an even worse impression before I can explain! Maybe it would be easier if I could drive and try to find in-person shops and pay in cash, but I have a health problem that makes me driving illegal sometimes, so that’s not a practical option. I know you aren’t supposed to use things that weren’t designed to go inside of your body, but I’ve been using an old detachable razor handle for years because of this. I don’t know what to do! I don’t think my dad pays much attention to what I buy but if something is flagged as unusual by the bank, they will sometimes call him about it. I’m not sure what I should do. I haven’t even bought a regular sex toy because I’m self conscious about this, let alone one like that!

I’m the “my dad helps me balance my checkbook and I’m terrible at math but I want a dildo” anon, and you don’t have to post this part if it’s too uncomfortable. That’s why i didn’t include it in my first ask. But the only time I had a friend offer to help me buy one that friend later died before it could happen so… I don’t really have anyone around to ask for assistance in… this. I know these aren’t your usual confessions, but i don’t really know where else to confess to this. The only other friend I think might possibly have helped me, moved a state away and i don’t want to bother her about it. I joke about being a freak sometimes but I really doubt my older family who might have heard me say that actually expects me to consider “freaky” something beyond oral. I’m not… I’m shy and wasn’t raised by people who were into much extreme stuff (my parents didn’t even swear around us until we were all over 16, and even now they don’t do it much! There are slurs I didn’t even know existed until senior high and my parents never used them! For obvious reasons. Which is good, but gives an idea of what I mean when I say not extreme. Even my grandparents are/were like this) so I’ve been told that it’s surprising when i tell a friend about these things for the first time. Coming out as demisexual wasn’t nearly as stressful to be honest, that might be weird but admitting my (admittedly not super exciting among this community) kinks feels shameful and humiliating for some reason. Telling a close friend is different I guess. My parents aren’t conservative people, not politically or in many other ways, but they definitely don’t know much about kinks. I can say that with confidence, I’ve read the romance novels my mom had lying around and I’ve seen them react genuinely shocked when something a little crazy happens in a show we’re watching. I just think I might have super vanilla family (in the 25 years I lived with them the most spicy things I encountered were those romance novels and what might have been lube) and I’m sure they would react, if not badly, just awkwardly. It would be super uncomfortable. They are the kinds of people to hear about that, look slightly horrified, say “okay” and just avoid talking about it after that, but every time a conversation gets too close to that everyone is awkward and avoids it. It’s like when someone is trying to talk about politics and everyone has to kind of bite their tongue or a shouting match will start while we’re trying to watch the mandalorian, just less aggressive, so not exactly the same, just similarly uncomfortable. This one also got longer than I meant it to. I don’t expect that my parents would disown me or anything, but it would change some things (although because my mom and I accidentally shared a kindle account when I was in highschool I’m pretty sure she knows I’m into monster romance novels) sex isn’t really a taboo topic, but it’s also not a comfortable one

#monsterfucker confessions

[imogenleewriter]

What are some of your favorite fics? i feel like i trust your opinion so much since what you write is so amazing u have to read something just as loll

I've given rec's to anons before, not sure if you've checked any of those out. Favourites / Famous/Non-Famous / A/B/O / WIPs (although most are complete now!) / Recent Read Recs Pt 1

But, let's do a new recently read and loved list!

I Don't Wanna Face The Music by hereforh / @hereforh Word count: 95,378 (but there is also a pt 2, still a WIP and up to 80k). Rating: E. Uni AU. Strangers to Lovers.

Louis likes to think he's a pretty normal, typical lad. He likes spending nights at the pub with his mates, he loves football and is very close to his family. So when he moves to London for uni, he doesn’t think much will be different.

Until he makes these new friends who are nothing like his mates back home and change his life for the better - and this one boy who messes with his head from the get go and makes him question everything he has ever thought about himself.

Wind beneath my wings by lunarheslwt / @lunarheslwt Word count: 93,131. Rating: E. A/B/O. Strangers to Lovers.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Harry gritted out, wild-eyed. “You should be scared of me.” Louis opened his mouth to speak, to cut him off, to disagree, but Harry was pushing. “I could hurt you.” “You won’t hurt me,” Louis said, simple and assuredly. Calm. “I’m capable of hurting you.” “But you won’t. That’s not who you are, Harry. I trust you,” Louis whispered.

As an omega carer that works at a rescue and rehabilitation centre for feral alphas and omegas, Louis has experienced all sides of ferality. So Harry- a cold, near-mute, non-receptive alpha- was a challenging case for everyone at Phoenix Rehab Centre. Louis wasn’t expecting to feel drawn towards an aloof Harry, or to form a slow bond with him. He certainly was not expecting for his entire life to change in unforeseen ways.

don't want no other shade of blue by padfootyoudog / @louisisworthit Word count: 43,230. Rating: E. A/B/O. Enemies to lovers.

“I know you’re putting on an act,” says Harry after a moment, and Louis scowls when he realises the prince is actually amused.

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

“All I’ve heard over the past couple of years are rumours of Prince Louis’ kindness, and generosity, and oh, he’s so handsome I can barely pour his tea without shaking!” says Harry, putting on a silly, high-pitched voice for the last bit. Louis’ scowl deepens. “I would already know if you were just another selfish, bratty omega prince. You can’t fool me, darling, but I admire your efforts.”

“As you said,” Louis grits out, “those are only rumours. I assure you, I’m a terrible person.”

Harmony by nouies / @nouies Word count: 6,175. Rating: E. A/B/O. Enemies to lovers.

Alpha Harry and Omega Louis don’t have the most amicable relationship at work. When they get stuck together in an elevator, Harry scents Louis after nothing else works to bring him out of his panicked state.

Their time trapped in the elevator together brings to light some misunderstandings, and maybe some feelings for each other, too.

We Both Got Nothing To Hide by lovelarry10 / @chloehl10 Word count: 43,811. Rating: E. A/B/O. Friends to lovers/mutual pining.

“Talk to me, Lou.”

“I can’t,” Louis mumbled, knowing he genuinely couldn’t say it. He couldn’t admit to what he was doing. “Don’t ask me to say it, because I can’t.”

“Then… I’ll try and guess. You’ve… got some stuff of Harry’s. Something of his to make it smell like him?”

Louis just nodded, eyes fixated on the floor. This was humiliating, but he knew Zayn wouldn’t stop until he found out what was going on.

“Okay. Like… a blanket, or a comforter or something?”

“Kind of…”

//

Omega Louis has a secret nest. Alpha Harry keeps losing his clothes.

through the jungle through the dark by YesIsAWorld / @louandhazaf Word count: 12,555. Rating: E. Road Trip, Ex-friends to lovers.

Louis and Harry were best friends, until they weren’t. Five years after they last spoke they’re forced to drive cross-country to visit an injured friend. If they can’t get over the past, it will be a very long week together.

Nailed By Louis by haztobegood / @haztobegood Word count: 6,311 (+part 2: 3,168). Rating: E. Enemies to lovers.

It had started as a joke, just two months earlier. Louis had tried to make recipe from HarrySizzles Instagram account. It looked doable: no strange ingredients, no scary kitchen machinery. Just a simple layered lettuce salad. The result had been catastrophic. His friends had laughed so hard at the disgusting appearance of his salad, and after a few drinks, Louis had been convinced to start his own Instagram to track his food failures.

these bad omens (I look right through them) by likelarry / @likelarryfics Word count: 82,322. Rating: E. Age Difference (all legal). Strangers to lovers.

How on earth does someone his parents' age look so damn hot? All of their other friends look... bland and boring.

But Louis, fucking hell. He's something out of Harry's wettest fucking dreams.

Where Louis is Harry's parents' friend and teaches at Harry's university. Harry can't resist getting a taste.

#my fic recs #recently read

[englishstrawbie]

Prompted by RobinPerry_U2Fan1969 on AO3 - “If you asked me to marry you tomorrow, I'd say yes.... what about today”

>>>>>

Maya rests her head on Carina’s shoulder, re-reading the same page of her book for the third time. She gets to the end of the paragraph and realises that she hasn’t paid attention to what she is reading yet again. She sighs heavily and lifts her eyes to the top of the page.

“Maybe we should go for a walk, bambina,” Carina suggests.

Even she can tell that Maya isn’t really reading her book and figures maybe some physical exercise might help. They have been trying to relax all afternoon, since Maya woke up from her post-shift nap. They haven’t had much time together in the last few weeks, between work and visiting Jack in hospital, not to mention being a shoulder to cry on for their friends who are all dealing with some kind of loss. Carina worries that Maya is so busy taking care of everyone else that she has forgotten to take care of herself.

“Hmm? It’s raining,” Maya says without looking up. They can both hear the rain hitting the windows.

Carina is still getting used to the new Maya, the one who doesn’t automatically put on her sneakers and work out to manage her feelings. The treadmill has resumed its place in the apartment and Carina has been expecting to wake up to the sound of Maya’s feet hitting the belt. It took her by surprise a couple of days ago when she found her meditating on the couch instead.

She knows it is Diane’s influence, and Carina feels a surge of pride at seeing Maya continually working to do better, just as she promised. But she also doesn’t want Maya to hide the hard stuff from her, for fear of scaring her.

Carina puts down the journal she is holding and takes Maya’s book from her hand, smiling gently when Maya looks up at her with a small frown crinkling her forehead.

“Are you okay?” Carina asks gently.

“Yeah,” Maya says, although not very convincingly. “It’s just been a long week.”

“I know,” Carina says. “I stopped by to see Jack on my way home yesterday. Amelia says the swelling on his brain is starting to come down.”

“Does she think he’ll wake up soon?”

There is a hopefulness in her voice that pulls on Carina’s heart as she shakes his head.

“It’s too soon to tell.”

Maya’s face drops. “Oh.”

Carina reaches out and takes Maya’s hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. Maya wraps her free hand around Carina’s, playing with the wedding band on her left hand. It had been missing for so long and there were too many times that Maya wondered if Carina would ever be willing to put it back on. She had done it without ceremony, but Maya had noticed it straight away, her heart leaping at the sight of it back in its rightful place.

Carina watches her. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking about you in your wedding outfit at the ball. It reminded me about how happy we were the day we got married,” Maya says wistfully. “But it’s also the day that everything started to change. The day I started to change.”

“It makes you sad?”

“A little,” Maya admits. “But I don’t want to feel that way about our wedding day. Because I love being married to you. It's the best thing I've ever done.”

She twists her lips thoughtfully.

“You know, when I was at the hospital the other day to see Jack, there was a guy in the room next door marrying his girlfriend. I guess he was about to have a big surgery and didn’t want to waste another moment.” She smiles. “It made me think.”

“Oh yeah? About what?” Carina asks curiously.

“About what it would look like if we got married again,” Maya says. “We’ve had our second chance at dating and we’ve had our second chance at moving in together.”

“You want a second chance at getting married too?” Carina says, amused by the idea.

“Yes,” Maya says.

“Well…” Carina says, leaning in and kissing Maya’s temple. “If you asked me to marry you tomorrow, I'd say yes.”

“What about today?” Maya says.

“What?”

Maya twists her body and lifts her knee, resting her leg on the cushions beneath them.

“Carina DeLuca, will you marry me - again?” Maya says.

Carina chuckles. “Maya, you’re crazy!”

“Crazy in love with you,” Maya says, making Carina laugh even harder. “I’m serious!”

“When? Where?”

“I… I don’t know,” Maya says. “I just know that life is hard and shitty things keep happening – but I also know that, after everything that’s happened, you came back home. I love you, Carina, and I don’t want to waste another moment with you.”

Romantic moment prompts

AO3 may be down but thank goodness for tumblr!

#station 19 #maya bishop #carina deluca #station 19 fanfiction #my fanfiction #romantic moment prompts

[heyyallitssatan]

I was reading study tips and came across one that made me mad.

It says “we all procrastinate our school work by saying we’re tired and not motivated. And look at how much time we waste when we could be productive and study. So erase those excuses and take out all your distractions and start studying!”

I’m gonna preface this rant with: this doesn’t apply to everyone, some people procrastinate their work because they just don’t want to do it, and I’m guilty of having done that, I’ll admit it, and some people need to push themselves harder about doing their work, for some people this may be helpful advice, but it’s not for me and it pisses me off, so with that out of the way I’m gonna rant (under the cut cause this got much longer than intended)

It pisses me off so bad because of all the years spent being told that I’m just lazy and I need to stop making excuses and try harder, when I’m reality I was trying so fucking hard but for some god damn reason I just fucking couldn’t. I couldn’t just white knuckle my way through it, no matter how hard I tried, it didn’t fucking work, and I was left more exhausted and stressed out then I was before. I’ve since learned that trying to force myself to work when it clearly isn’t working for whatever reason was doing way more harm than good, so was framing it as laziness and failure in my mind. The best way for me when I’m exhausted/burnout/depressed/dealing with executive dysfunction is sometimes to just stop. It doesn’t matter that I really need to get this done, or that I’m behind, or anything else, I need to take a break, and eat something/drink something/shower/sleep whatever has to happen for me to reset. Doesn’t matter what it is, but something besides “grit your teeth and deal with it” needs to happen. It has been instrumental in dealing with stuff, especially school. Doing this has helped to both stave off the burnout so that I’m dealing with a lighter version, and it takes longer to set in, it also makes it easier to deal with when the burnout hits, it’s also a good policy for depressive episodes. I’ve also noticed that letting myself take breaks and rests has allowed me to get more work done, knowing that I can rest if I need to is incredibly helpful

Now, the work has to get done eventually, so here’s my advice if you’ve made it this long, I applaud you you’re a wonderful being

So the original post was trying to give you tips on not procrastinating, so here’s some that actually kind of work for me.

1. Do work ahead of time, when you have the extra spoons and time to dedicate to school and studying, do it, even if you’re all caught up on homework and notes, work ahead, you’ll be thanking spoonful you when that bad episode hits and you aren’t falling as far behind

2. Because sometimes episodes last a long time and you are still required function in society, try making a time limit. I saw a great post once about it, but basically set a limit for 50 minutes of work (or however long you can reasonably expect yourself to work and focus) and then take a ten minute rest, then set a timer for forty minutes of work (or ten minutes less then your of time) and then ten minutes rest, then thirty minute timer, you get the just, just keep going til you run out of time, it works for me, helps me get work done, setting timers makes me feel like I’m racing the clock to finish Task is that time so I can start a new one when the next timer starts. Another way to do this if you don’t like this method is an adaptation of STPs, basically, work for twenty minutes, break for ten, work for twenty, break for ten, repeat ad infinitum, or as long as necessary. Shoot for five reps, ten if you’re really going for it. Honestly, there’s a lot of interesting workout reps that you can’t turn into study things, I suggest looking at some, especially if they’re already part of your workout routine and you know they work for your there, cause that’s a better chance of them working for you here

3. Make it fun. A lot like timers, if you’re trying to beat someone/something then it can add dopamine to the activity, so you’re more likely to do it. I recommend this video which detail a quest type system to keep you on track, it can’t be translated to studying with both the original how ever much you do gives you points to use against the monster, or the way I do with both the og and bonus points for getting good grades on homework/tests, whatever works for you

3a. You can also try making a friend/rival in class you’re trying beat, I am a big proponent for what friendly competition can do for you. (This can also set you up for a slow burn rivals to lovers college au, so you know, bonuses)

All I got for now, but I may add more later.

#studying #workouts #study tips #workout tips #college tips #school tips #angry rants #adhd #adhd brain #neurodiverse stuff #nuerodivergent #its the neurodivergency #neurodivergent #neurospicy #that’s right bitches I’m spicy #burnout #depresión #depression #realistic mental illness #mental illness tips #anxiety #neurodivergent tips #from a real life neurodivergent #I hope this helps #and don’t fucking come at me #I’m well aware this doesn’t apply to everyone #but it applies to me #maybe it applies to some other people who just want to hear from someone else that they’re not lazy and it’s okay that they need extra help #it’s fine #gods know I could’ve used some of this stuff

[babiebom]

Two songs I think would describe my relationship with each doctor (nuwho)

A/N: i clicked on a video expecting chaotic doctor who TikTok’s but instead got edits and now all I can think about is what song would play if someone made an edit of me and the doctor. These headcanons are very self indulgent lmao so maybe read at your own risk(nothing too scandalous lmao)

Tw: some cursing maybe, the genre is really sorta fluffy and angsty so idk what to put as a trigger warning idk.

Bc: at least 4 for each 1 for each song and 1 explanation for each of those songs

Doctor who Masterlist

Nine

Until I Found You-Stephen Sanchez and Em Beihold

Okay for this song it’s just if he had never met Rose and I was in her place. Because I do think that whoever he meets at this time(if he likes them) will change how he views everything like she did. Like he needed somebody in this point in time to show him how wonderful the universe could be again after he had lost everything. This song gives those vibes

Snowman- Sia

This is because he’s a sad sad angry man and like, I don’t want him to be sad. This entire song is just me and my sad bf I don’t want him to be sad but no matter what it’s him and me because who else is there?

Ten

Stay With Me- Miki Matsubara

If you read the English lyrics the song is Sadge and I think it fits what I think would be my vibe with him. He will never admit if he has feelings for me(prolly not lmao) and this is just him being like love and affection are different things and i have affection for you. And like just wanting to stay in the moment if not having to be upset because of feelings or anything, just want everything to be good so I can hold on to the good moments.

Heather- Conan Gray

Okay so I’m going with my own AU of me just being the companion of each doctor and like maybe stuff happening in between? I think at this point, the doctor wouldn’t really either admit if he does or doesn’t have feelings for me and ends up falling for someone else while we travel. Like maybe the Family of Blood happens or something in this universe and I get Martha-ed(she’s the loml and I’ll never forgive the show for doing her dirty) by him. This is just me being angsty.

Eleven

My Love Mine All Mine-Mitski

Literally just how i feel about him. I’m the only companion and the only one he ever sails off with, he’s mine all mine in a way. I love him, and even if the song is talking about requited love, mine is probably delulu and this is me being all head over heels prolly

Honey-Kehlani

Again a sappy song. Out of everyone else in the entire universe he somehow chose me to travel with him, because of him I finally found what I wanted to do with my life (be with him) cute cute cute but also delulu

Twelve

Shinuoga E-Wa -Fujii Kaze

If we’re going based off canon things, the doctor was kinda insecure about this new face(because it’s older? I’m going off of what lizard lady was talking about to Clara) and this is just me being like I really don’t care what you look like I’d rather die than be without you

A Thousand Years- Christina Perri

Like the last song this is literally me being like YOURE STILL ATTRACTIVE MY FEELINGS HAVENT CHANGED PLS :)

Thirteen

Take Me to Church- Hozier

I feel like out of these doctors that thirteen was more so of like…I’m keeping all of my personal information personal? Idk like the others knew more about the doctor than the fam knew? At least before their last season. So I feel like at this point she would be lying about a bunch of shit and I’d be like “okay :) I’ll believe everything you’re saying even though I know for a fact your bullshitting me rn”

Love Story- Indila

This is more so the second verse. Me being like “lmao I’m never leaving you” and her being like “I’m literally being an asshole and I forgot how to love” and me being like “idc I’ll literally fight for you. If you ignore me I’ll just offer you my life” kinda insane but also like an undying love sorta thing

Fourteen is the same as ten but less angsty :)

Fifteen

Best Friend-Doja Cat and Saweetie

Atp I think that our relationship probably would’ve evolved to a couple that has been together for a million years but instead of being tired of each other were more like best friends to the point where everyone thinks everything has always been platonic. Fifteen is a bad bitch I love him <3

I Will Always Love You- Whitney Houston

Because fifteen is still hella angsty. He’s acting like the therapy worked but it just helped him deal with everything probably. He needs to remember that no matter what I’ll always love him.

#doctor who headcanon #ninth doctor headcanons #doctor who au #eleventh doctor #doctor who #nuwho #dw #dw shitpost #dw headcanon #doctor who shitpost #ninth doctor #tenth doctor #tenth doctor headcanons #eleventh doctor headcanons #twelfth doctor headcanons #twelfth doctor #thirteenth doctor headcanons #thirteenth doctor #fifteenth doctor #fifteenth doctor headcanons

[eddiemunsonspantschain]

Hidden Away - Ch.1

Note: This was previously posted with an OC. I have since decided to go reader insert friendly as it seems people prefer them more (can’t blame you). So if you’ve read this before, it’s all pretty much the same just the name and specifics taken out. Enjoy!

Pairing: Eddie Munson x secretly alternative!reader

Warnings: Eventual smut in later chapters, absent parent, upside down related stuff later, minors DNI

You do not have permission to copy, translate or repost my works onto other platforms. 18+ only.

Hawkins was about as small a town as it got. All the times your parents took you into cities, it was like a whole other world. You preferred Hawkins. The cities were too big. Too many people. In Hawkins? You knew everyone. Maybe not personally, but you saw the same people every day. You knew what to expect. Like every day in math class, Robin Buckley would drop her pencil and she’d mutter a fast apology if it got anywhere close to me. Like Jason Carver taking every chance he had to send a wink, smile, or blow a kiss to Chrissy during games so long as it didn’t affect how he was playing. Everything was predictable. Boring. But it was nice knowing what was coming. 

“Do you guys have dates yet for the Spring dance?” Chrissy asked, not looking up from the braid she was making in Bianca’s hair.

A few of the girls answered. Some with hopeful prospects from the guys off the basketball team, others confirming they had indeed found their dates. You didn’t look up from your sketchbook. You had been trying to get this line down for what felt like forever, but every time you drew it; it was slightly slanted. So you had to erase it and start over.

“Y/N?... Y/N?!” 

You looked up. Chrissy was looking at you expectantly. “What?” You asked, and she laughed.

“Do you have a date for the Spring dance!?” she asked, reaching over to shove you.

You roll my eyes and look at Chrissy. “You know I hate dances.” You answered her.

“Yeah, but you love Halloween and didn’t go to the Halloween dance. And you never go to any of the dances! C’mon! Why not come to the Spring dance?” Chrissy pleaded, “It’s one of the only ones we’re gonna have before graduation besides prom.”

You weren’t girly, really. You didn’t dress like the other girls in the squad did when they weren’t at school. Darker colors over lighter ones and a couple pieces that others would deem as ‘freak clothes’, as Sally and the girls called it. You only joined cheerleading because you couldn’t do gymnastics anywhere else. With that, though, you fell into the popular crowd. You kept your interests to yourself, though. The music your dad got you into, the horror movies you loved. Why spend four years being teased when you hid perfectly fine among the populars? The only one you really liked was Chrissy. She was nice and never condescendingly. She’d been that way with you since middle school. The other girls sometimes were mean, even if they wouldn’t outright admit it. “Cause that requires having a date or looking like a loser.” You smiled and reached over to tap the tip of her nose.

“So? I’m sure any loser would go with you.” Bianca said, as she flipped the page in her magazine.

“Thanks.” You murmur and roll your eyes. 

“Seriously, you’d think any guy would agree to go with you because of being a cheerleader alone.” Sophia agreed with a shrug.

“I think any guy would be honored if you asked him.” Chrissy interrupted, reaching out to grab your elbow, “Or hey, one of them might ask you.”

“They’re too afraid of her to ask her!” Bianca laughed, shaking her head. “I don’t blame em. Ice queen over here.” 

“As always, your input is enlightening, B.” You shot Chrissy a look, and she looked back at you apologetically.

“Whatever. I’m sure a guy will have the courage to ask you out one day.” Bianca shrugged and shut her magazine, stuffing it back into her bag. 

The bell rang just after that. You shoved your sketchbook into your bag once you closed it and got up, helping Chrissy up off the floor. Bianca had a problem with you since you joined the squad. Why? You had no idea. It wasn’t like you didn’t fit in. Did you act out of place? Sure. Occasionally. But you kept all of your music interests and everything else to yourself so as ‌to not be labeled a freak, so you could survive the rest of high school. Once you graduated though? You were outta here.

Chrissy and you broke off from the others to go to science class. You had biology together. “You ever think Bianca will get off my case?” You asked Chrissy as you walked into Mr.Hawthorns class together.

“I’m not even entirely sure what her issue is with you.” Chrissy admitted, sliding her bag off of her shoulder before sliding into her desk.

You slid into your seat beside her and sighed. “One day I’m gonna snap at her. I swear.” You grumbled, and Chrissy giggled.

“I mean, she does say everyone is afraid of you. Maybe she will be too. You are marked as the ‘mean cheerleader’.” Chrissy answered as she used air quotes when she called me the mean cheerleader.

“I just don’t like people. Especially people like Michael Barrows, who thought it was ok shoving his hand up my top.” You shrugged. You didn’t like our classmates. Except Chrissy. Somehow, her sunny disposition never bothered you. How? You weren't so sure. There were others whom you interacted with that barely bothered you. Robin Buckley was one, for example. You both had English class together and worked on projects together. She rambled, but she was nice.

A second before the bell rang, another figure walked into the classroom. Mr.Hawthorn shot the young man a look. A mop of brown curls nodded to Mr.Hawthorn before walking to the back of the classroom towards Chrissy and you. On Chrissy’s right the figure sat down heavily. Eddie Munson. Hawkins Highs resident Freak and leader of the Hellfire Club. A group of nerds and freaks, frankly. At least that has been what they said about them.

“Alright, listen up. Turn to page 87. We’re going over genetics today.” Mr.Hawthorn started writing on the blackboard.

You flipped to page 87 and took out your notebook to start your notes. Chrissy started doodling as Mr.Hawthorn spoke. You and Chrissy lived down the street from one another. You had been friends since middle school. It was only natural that in high school you stuck together. She had spent a number of nights in your house. Especially when she had wanted to get away from her mother. Her mom had a thing about Chrissy’s looks. You thought Chrissy looked beautiful. Perfect. What every girl wanted to look like. What you wish you looked like as Chrissy was a natural beauty. Just perfect features without even trying. Her mom always had something different to say. Chrissy spent a lot of time at your house, crying after her mom made a comment about how her cheer uniform fit or told her she couldn’t have a birthday cake that year. You guessed no matter what, you all had your pains. Your parents weren’t perfect either. You barely saw your dad. You guess you could thank him for what genetics he gave you. Your mom and you had one another when your dad wasn’t in town.

“Now, we’re going to have a project on genetics. And we’re gonna make it fun. So in here,” Mr.Hawthorn picked up a fishbowl he had on his desk. He smiled and shook the bowl, making all the folded pieces of paper inside move around. “I have the names of the gentlemen in this class. Ladies, you will pick a name from here and they will be your partner. You both will figure out genetically what your kids would look like. Tell us a bit about them. Get creative.” He announced and approached a girl in the first row with the bowl.

“Why can’t we just pick our own partners?” Sally asked and Mr.Hawthorn chuckled.

“Well, that makes it less interesting. This is more random like life would be.” He answered and moved on to the next girl.

Mr.Hawthorn got to the back row and held the bowl out to you. There were only four other pieces of paper in the bowl. You reached in and picked the first piece that touched your fingers. Mr.Hawthorn moved to Chrissy and held the bowl out to her. You unfolded your piece of paper and your heart sank. 

‘Eddie Munson’

You folded the piece of paper back up. Chrissy leaned over. “Who did you get?” she whispered and showed you her piece of paper. She got Patrick. At least he was her boyfriend's friend.

You looked at her and licked your lips. Then you looked past her. Your ‘partner’. Eddie was carving into the top of the desk with his pen, too busy to notice anything. You nodded at Eddie. Chrissy turned her head and stared at Eddie before quickly looking away before he could notice. This couldn’t be worse. She mouthed a ‘really?’ to you and you nodded. “Alright! Everyone has their partners. Girls, if you could read your picks aloud.” Mr.Hawthorn grabbed his clipboard he always wrote down group partners on. Oh, it could get worse! Each girl began naming the guy they were paired with. As it got closer to you, you began nervously chewing on the inside of your cheek.

Then it was your turn. You took a breath. “Eddie Munson.” You called, not looking at him at all. Immediately, a few snickers sounded in the classroom.

“Patrick McKinney!” Chrissy immediately called, trying to stop the reaction in the room. She knew how much you hated people laughing at you. You avoided any teasing, but something about people laughing at you just got to you worse. Being paired with Eddie didn’t help you hide away from everyone else and their teasing. You just had to get through this project.

Once every girl claimed their guy, Mr.Hawthorn smiled. “Alright, kids. You all have until next week to figure out your future kids' genetic makeup.” He announced, and a moment later, the bell rang. “Class dismissed. See you all tomorrow!”

You shoved your textbook into your bag and got up, following Chrissy towards the door. “Have fun with the freak.” Sally giggled as you both passed her. You shot her a look, and her smile faltered a bit. You grabbed Chrissy’s hand and tugged her out of the classroom. 

“This is humiliating.” You hissed, and Chrissy sighed.

“It isn’t that bad, Y/N!” She argued as you stopped at your locker. “It could be worse. Besides, Eddie has always been nice to the cheerleaders. He just doesn’t like Jason. Or the rest of the basketball team.” She laughed, leaning on the lockers as you opened yours and shoved your biology textbook into it. 

“You know, I worked hard to avoid teasing. Stay out of the spotlight! Stay away from being gossiped about and bullied.” You explained to Chrissy, and she nodded.

“I know, I know. But you aren’t a freak. You’re one of us.” She reassured you. 

A person walked close to you and Chrissy but before you could even realize it, you jumped from a loud noise behind your head. You turned to look at the figure looming over you. Eddie Munson stood there with a big, goofy smile on his face. His arm was behind your head with his hand resting on the locker beside yours, where he had just slammed it down onto the metal. “Ladies,” Eddie began, dropping his arm and stepping back to give you space.

“Munson.” You murmur, looking up at him.

“Hey,” Chrissy waved awkwardly.

“So, partner,” Eddie began, shoving his hands into his pockets. “When do you wanna work on this thing? I’m sure you wanna get this over with as quickly as I do?” He asked, rocking back and forward on his feet.

You looked at Chrissy and she grinned. “I’ll see you at lunch!” She cheerfully said and started backing away.

“No, no! Chrissy!” You hissed at her as she turned on her heel, green and white skirt swaying as she turned away and started down the hallway. You sighed and looked up at Eddie. Again, that smile. “Library. After school.” You murmured your instruction, turning to shove your locker door closed. 

“See you there.” Eddie agreed with a wink as you turned away from him and quickly walked away. Already, people were whispering in the hallways.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things reader insert #eddie munson reader insert

[cellsshapedlikestars]

2022 end-of-year fic review ✨

thanks so much to @vivilove-jonsa for tagging me! I’m putting this under a cut because ya girl can get wordy

1. what’s your ao3 account?

ganymede_elegy

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2. how many words did you write in total in 2022?

434,360. oops

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3. how many fics did you publish in 2022 // multi-chapter vs. one-shots?

8 multi-chapter (I’m counting ephemera in this because I’m lazy), 6 one-shots, 2 follow up one-shots.

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4. what was your longest-fic // shortest fic?

longest: you on the run (73,410)

shortest: say anything (2,290) (possibly something from ephemera, but I’m too lazzzyyyy)

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5. what was your most popular // least popular?

my most popular are always the ones I dub my “rom-coms”, and the least popular are always my darker stuff, but I also think longer fics tend to be more popular too, so because I need things to be very organized, I’ll split them up.

multi-chapters:

-most: take me out

-least: the ghost inside

one-shots:

-most: i’ve got your number

-least: red lights mean you’re leaving

(see! this tracks with rom-coms vs dark lol)

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6. what fic didn't perform as well as you thought it would?

I don’t know. Because I have terrible anxiety, I always feel like the thing I’m currently writing is the least performing and then once it’s completed I go “oh! the response it got was so nice!!” no matter what it is. Like I was slightly disappointed the ghost inside didn’t do 'better' because I personally adored it and had it sitting around half written for years, but also I posted 4 chapters in 4 days for the event, and the tags are SUPER off-putting. So is the format. And the subject matter.

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7. what fic performed way better than you thought it would?

i’ve got your number. It was a one-shot that did a lot better than I was expecting. But I personally love it and I’m so glad everyone else did, too.

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8. what was your favorite fic you wrote in 2022?

very tough. I think help me out of the shape I’m in is the one I’m the most proud of, though half of it was written in 2021. But I’m also really proud of sketches of what was there before, if only because it’s the only thing I’ve written that wasn’t shippy (in this fandom). This question is hard because as I’ve said before, I write for me and so I have a deep fondness for everything I’ve written (with some exceptions lol)

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9. what was your favorite fic that somebody else wrote in 2022? 

OOF I’m so bad at this. I’ve already admitted I don’t read a ton of fic anymore, and I also get SO anxious about leaving people out or making anyone feel not included? I also just plain can’t remember because time is an illusion. So I'm choosing a bunch?? These are not the only great fics though!!

I always love me some good @thewolvescalledmehome fics, like Reach Out With Both Hands and currently enjoying On the Edge of a World so Cold

@vivilove-jonsa​‘s you give me goosebumps was such a fun ride to start off the new year

Late Night by @justadram​ because I always love reading fics where it feels like the writer is very interested in/knows a lot about the subject

Death and the Dancer by @sibyldisobedience​ because I LOVE ghost/spooky stories

The Man Called Snow by annie_loves_starwarsstories just updated and reminded me that I also love historical fic

I did consume a LOT of Edissy fic this summer, but I also fell pretty quickly out of it and can no longer remember what I read & liked

.

10. tag your friends so they can play as well

@hilarychuff​ @northernladywriter​ @sibyldisobedience​ @justhereforfandomandfriends​ @mkstrigidae and whoever else wants to play! I’d love to see them

#jonsa #ask game #should i be embarrassed by how much ive written? #no #its 2023 #embrace the cringe