#boop writes

[witchcraftingboop]

Ad Infinitum

In the East, the hero was born. It was said that he burns like the sun, blessed by the Gods, and apart from mortality and the ways of man. I was never really one for worship or idolatry, so I admit the words meant little to me then and even less now.

The boy breaking into my domain is said to be that hero, the golden child of the eastern territories, a herald of good triumphing over evil. Kneeling beside the corpse of my knight, it is difficult for me to see him as anything but that which he currently is: an intruder. The order comes easily to my lips, as cold on my tongue as my pledged one’s eyelids beneath my fingertips.

“Kill the hero."

My lips twist sardonically on the last word.

The whelp before me is no hero, and if I must end him to demonstrate as much, then so be it. He will learn his place by my hands, and then we will see whether his Gods’ blessings extend to death’s door.

Their hero is yet underdeveloped from what I can tell, his limbs gangly and ill-fitted to the title thrust upon him. His armor fits well enough, the polished gold burning bright under the sun’s relentless rays. The shine on a more impressive figure would likely inspire admiration, fear, but on this thin child, it makes him look small, insignificant. He is like a babe trying on an adult’s suit, unwilling or unable to admit that the fit isn’t quite right, that it will take yet more time before they are evenly matched.

My gaze falls to the comrade he stole from me.

The woman beside me looks to be around my age, well passed her second naming, and without so much as a braid upon her helmet. She was untried in battle, her sword not yet bled. A low hum crawls up my throat, my mind drifting to others like her, like myself. I had lain on this desert floor before, felt the sand grit against the back of my skull, my ears ringing with the reverberations of the sword hilt that’d hit my temple and my brothers’ noxious laughter.

They had thought themselves heroes too, and back then, I was fool enough to believe them. My elder brothers were invincible in my eyes, true shards of divinity given flesh. Even with a mouth full of blood and a headache ripe to split my skull, I was so fond of them, so full of yearning to be older, closer to them and their level of command over the world.

The hero, sword glaring in the sun’s rays, draws my attention once more.

It is said that this boy killed them.

A cold, wisp of fury rises in my chest. At one point, it had been hot like the flames of Oblivion, raging and untamable, and I had raised my armies and scorched the soil with it, turned villages to scarred lands and rivers to blood banks. Now it is cold, hollow, a figment of a memory that I cannot fully manifest.

My shoulders sag imperceptibly beneath my caped armored shoulders.

People say a lot of things. They say he killed my father, my brothers, and that the grief of their loss drove my mother and I to madness. They say my seer is a crazed man given to promiscuity and blasphemy. They say I am a devil chained within a temptress’ form festering with a heart of Vengence’s own ice.

I look upon their hero, and I feel nothing. It is the same lukewarm nothingness that I have felt for countless turnings. Only now I am older, wiser, and so I know that killing him will not throw my body back into feeling. I will not relish killing their sun, but I doubt the ones who sent him here will see it that way.

The boy is unfaltering in the face of my knights. He meets their swords, and he loses none of his shine. His sweat slicked black hair would look bleak on anyone else, but his bronzed skin warms yet further, his body seeming to illuminate itself with a blinding inner light that would give other men pause. Here, in my private residence, such untested persons cannot exist. He is not the first hero to come to my doorstep, and he will not be the last to be cut down where he stands, his holy blood rendered mere fertilizer for my private garden.

If I were capable of it, I'm sure my heart would bleed with pity for the youth. Perhaps if I were more like my father I would be capable of such emotion, such soul rendering burdensome feelings. As it is, I can only stand and avenge my fallen.

My mind alights upon ghosts.

Beside where this hero stands, my younger brother had choked around a mouthful of arrows, his tongue flayed around the feathered ends. He had not yet been named. He was the last of my father's sons, born after my eldest brothers' final breaths, and the final loss that tore my father from his throne. There, by this intruder's feet, I had felt his heart like a hummingbird flutter, flutter, stutter, and give out. Under my fingertips, clutched in my arms, I felt him return to the meadows and had stared at this hero's exact likeness, born again and again, his eyes like honeyed sunshine, jubilant at killing a toddler.

My vision wavers and clears, reality replacing my memories once more.

This time, the hero is not so joyful. He has tinted, drooping skin under his golden eyes, his hands are easily jolted against the hilt of his sword, his stance not quite as unshakable as it once was. And yet they call him their hero.

Seeing my approach, the knights that had circled around him, toying with his defenses retreat three paces, their swords brandished, patience carved into their half-covered faces like the tracks of water through stone. My hand drifts to my blades' hilt, the enchanted metal pulsing with cool joy at my touch.

"Are you not tired?"

The words leave me before I know I mean to speak them.

I have not talked to a hero in several reincarnations. I have watched him patiently approach time and time again, have looked on as he shattered his bones breaking against the walls of my keep over and over. What rage I once had has been extinguished, what love or laughter or peace wilted and decayed leaving nothing within me. If he does not feel as I do, then it must be because he is made anew each and every time while I am left on this mortal plane, neck deep in sand and death and plagues that his kings hurl at my people without ceasing.

He is not of the Gods. He is simply allowed rest where others are not-- where I am not. Once, that was enough to make me despise him.

"How many more times will you let them resurrect you, Atreus? Must I put you down like a kept dog every lifetime? Are you not tired of being sent to your death time and time again?"

When I speak his name, those eyes, which had been narrowed and guarded, zero in on my face, the pupils contracting until twin pools of molten gold blaze within his haggard face.

"Atreus?" There is a cruelty lingering in the feral edges of the smile he gives me.

I know that his next words will be another attempt to hurt me, to rip a reaction from my hollow chest, but he does not know yet how deeply our lives are entrenched in one another. I let my hand fall away from my weapon, something inside me holding its breath in anticipation, as if his next words hold my very fate, as if they alone will release me from this place.

Come, I want to say, I wait with open arms for Oblivion's embrace. Come and give it to me.

"Do you think you can call me so familiarly? You are a devil, and the luminance of God's will won't touch you even if you were to pray in my name before your idols. You-"

I grant him death with a single pull of my sword.

His eyes and armor and sword blaze in the dust. I lower myself beside his gaping throat, my knees planted in sand that will soon be stained with his loss. I lift him into my hands. His spine is rent apart with a single tug, and I rock back on my heels, my thumbs stroking down his dirt-stained cheeks.

I know what this must be doing to him, can see his wide, wild gaze mutely glaring back at me. I do not care. I wait until that gaze softens, until tears fall like the moon's pearls from his long lashes.

"Atreus," I catch his tears on armored fingers and leave streaks across his skin when I try to wipe them away, "stop coming back. It will not matter how much you struggle or try to break free. They will resurrect you, and they will pollute your mind from birth unto death. Be at peace; I will always be here to put you back to sleep."

My lost, mad love gazes up at me with the world alight in his pupils. I do not recognize the face that stares back at me from within it. She is youthful and radiant, her silver hair like a quicksilver flame, her violet eyes glinting gems upon her face. She does not look like how I know myself to be.

I remember how he used to shake from nightmares when we were children together, and I know that if he could, Atreus would be but a leaf before wind in my arms. His mute lips part and tremble, his wet lashes sticking together in clumps. Below him, his body twitches as if he can compel it to move. I hum a melody now forgotten by time, one I know he's the only one at my side who can recognize now. I shut my eyes against the fear and pain bleeding through his.

"Sh," I place a kiss between his scrunched brows, my stomach twisting around a feeling my senses can no longer recognize. "It is okay. Get some rest now. I will be here."

"Lania."

A hoarse, haunted voice travels up my palms and stabs viciously into my chest. My breath falters, my eyes heating at the sound of my past before me. I have not been called by another in lifetimes. I have been King, Undying Lady, villain, temptress, guest, but never Lania. I had realized a long time ago that no one around me remembered my name and that I had forgotten it some time ago. Here, on his lips and in that unchanging voice, I can only recognize it as another mocking twist of fate that he carries its burden still.

"I am... tired, my love."

It is like my eyes have been sealed shut. As much as I know I must look at him, must see this moment for myself, it is as if my body recognizes instinctively that it is too much. I have seen too much. I have seen too many replicas of him tortured and burned and flayed alive. I cannot gaze upon him with the softness he expects. I cannot weep with compassion for the man who has pushed my territories to ruin time and time again.

"Rest," I tell him instead, my tone chilled, indifferent. "Do not come back. It is unnecessary."

The love of my life, my harbinger of doom. How long has it been since I could think of him with anything but vague familiarity, muted hatred, forgotten yearning. The ties between us have been manipulated and burned and remade over and over and over again, but in his eyes, they have not changed. He is the same on the other side of the meadow, his soul pure and without burden every time it is released.

I do not know how to convey to him that I do not want him any more.

"Rest," I repeat, because there is nothing else I can say.

#boop writes #twas bored on my morning break and made a lil heroxvillain fic #I think it's cute 🥰 #look at them struggle #rough draft #writeblr

[uniquevocashark]

I feel like I overuse overripe fruit as a metaphor but "peeled like a well cooked prawn" just isn't as sexy

#personal #boop writes

[pixellangel]

"boop war" this and "tumblr pvp" that. are we not all bonding? have you not met people you would have never heard of? do you not look at the url of the stranger who booped you and think wow, i just met someone who thought of me, even if its just for a boop, before hitting the boop button on them as well? do you not gain joy from this? even in the heat of battle, our humanity shows itself. we glance into the eyes of an opponent who holds our gaze ever so slightly too long for someone who's supposed to be an unfeeling soldier and we think to ourselves i'll miss you, stranger before we inflict a killing blow. the boops show us we're human

#pixell.txt #boop #boop o meter #boop war #textposts #idk what this post is honestly. i blacked out while writing it and suddenly there's words on my screen /j

[manincaffeine]

Breakup hurts the most?

But Have you ever sat with a group of friends knowing that you're the least favourite & it wouldn't matter of you're there or not.

#desiblr #desi tumblr #txt post #desi academia #txt #dark romanticism #dark academia #intimacy #writers on tumblr #life quotes #litrature #spilled ink #spilled writing #adhd #writeblr #writers #light academia #boop #artists on tumblr

[d3arapril]

https://www.tumblr.com/svccubuss/738669179535835136/having-your-head-pushed-down-further-into-the Ok but this with Abby?!?!

[link to post] oh anon...... i want her to break me in half like a glowstick

18+ minors dni

abby is strong, she knows she is. having all that strength is great for her day to day life, of course. it's also great for when she needs to keep you in place and fuck you like you deserve.

"keep your fucking hips up," she huffs, shuffling forward on the bed so that your ass is squished up against her pelvis, no where to run. she's grinding against you, strap reaching the spot that always ends in the bed being soaked when you're both finished and utterly spent.

you're practically rendered speechless, mouth wide and eyes rolled to the back of your head as you take and take, take whatever she gives you.

you feel abby's hand leave your hip and press against the side of your head, smooshing your face against the duvet, wet from your spit, her spit and the tears you didn't even realise were leaking from the corners of your eyes. her other hand smooths its way from your right hip, travelling up your back and pressing down between your shoulder blades, trapping you in place.

she's relentless- pressing all of her weight down onto you as she fucks you, the slapping of your ass against her pelvis spurring her on as she watches you with heavy eyes- watches for any sign that you can't breathe or are uncomfortable but when you catch her gaze and smile lazily, bottom lip caught between your teeth, she knows you like it. like how much she could easily just break you if she wanted to.

no matter how much bigger or smaller you are she'll always be strong enough to fuck you just right, she'll always be your strong girl <3

#i want her to put me in a headlock so bad #like please PLEASEEEEEE #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x f!reader #the last of us smut #abby tlou smut #tlou smut #ermm #beep boop #my writing

[dumbificat]

Ꮺ hey — you’re booptiful !! ‎

☆ various x gn!reader — fluff ✿ no warnings — wc : 888 ♪ note — happy boop day :P ♡ please reblog if you enjoyed !! ★ taglist — @thexianzhoujade @ryuryuryuyurboat @dailypenpen @thestarswhisper @lemonarcade @nostalgic-muffins + @xianyoon @nervocat i think you’ll like this :9

— neuvillette was both unprepared and unfamiliar with nose boops. he loved you and the ways you showed affection, but sometimes struggled to see how it was affectionate. he’d never complain, though. instead, he usually went along with it and reciprocated the action. in this case, the fabric of his glove was soft against your skin as he booped… your forehead. well, it was the thought that counted, right?

— wriothesley be initially caught off guard, but would simply respond with that deep chuckle of his, before booping your own nose. his heart swells at your bright smile, mentally cooing at how cute you are, and would welcome any future boops with open arms. well, nose.

— lyney would be used to your noncon-formative displays of affection. he can’t say he prepared for the boop on his nose, a small gasp leaving his lips before he can stop it. it’s quick to spread into a smile, his own finger reaching across to boop your own nose. he then pulls out a rainbow rose right before your eyes, seemingly from thin air, placing it behind your ear with a kiss to your temple.

— gallagher raises a brow at your antics. he’s used to them by now, knows they’re just little displays of affection. when you think he’s about to boop you back, his big hand cups your jaw, dragging you closer so he can press a kiss to your forehead. he chuckles when you pout, finally booping your nose as well. you did a small cheer at that, and he felt his heart melt.

— jing yuan was resting in your arms like the sleepy cat he was when you booped his nose. you could tell he was half asleep but he was too cute to resist. his eyes drooped in a slow blink, before his head moved towards yours. your noses booped together in an unconventional kiss, then he returned to snuggling into your neck. you could only hope he’d remember this when he woke up.

— blade almost a pulls his blade out until he sees it was you. then he just… stares at you. did you really just boop his nose?! upon seeing how elated you are to have ambushed him with affection, he huffs and relaxes his shoulders. after many daring attempts at showing your love to him in the past, you knew that meant you had free reign to boop him as many times as you wanted. of course, don’t abuse this privilege - he does still have his blade after all.

— mammon pauses for a moment, debating what to do. he loves when you do things like this, little signs of love just for him. a huge blush spread across his face. how could a simple tap leave him this flustered? he was determined now to make you the same blushing mess he was, so he reached out and booped your nose. many times. in fact, it became an outright booping war.

— lucifer would wonder how you could feel joy from such a small act, yet he won’t stop you. the most you’ll get out of him is a sigh and a question about whether or not you’re okay. when he confirms you’re fine, just feeling silly, he’ll resume with his paperwork while you boop away. just be prepared for boops of your own when you least expect it.

— simeon would initially be confused, chalking it up to humans and their playful signs of affection. this confusion would melt into adoration as he sees how happy you are, moving in turn to boop your nose. you both keep booping each other, and even switched to kissing each other’s noses instead. at least you returned to a familiar act of endearment that your loving angel could recognise.

— luke would be quick to shout “i’m not a kid!!” until he sees it was you that booped his nose. his anger would disappear as quickly as it came, but he might still pour at your antics. it’s only when you bring his hand up to your own nose that he brightens up, realising you weren’t making fun of his kid-like appearance. cue many boops and giggles, as well as a confused solomon when he sees you both.

— yoo joonghyuk didn’t know what to think, so he chose to ignore it. not you, just the small boop you left on his nose. you’d just finished a scenario, the next not starting for a week so you took some time to rest. the crackling of the fire in front of you was welcomed, but you could feel your eyes drooping. for so long you’d been pumped with adrenaline, only now did boredom seem like hell. that’s when you booped him. in all honesty, you didn’t expect much, just a quick distraction if anything. though, your shock was apparent when his own finger reached across, tantalisingly slow in its movements, to boop you back.

— kim dokja would pause what he was doing, looking up from his phone to see your smiling face. he knew he wasn’t imagining things - you really did just boop his nose. at the lack of a response, you made an awkward little sound, almost regretting the small action. so, when dokja booped your own nose with a chuckle, you couldn’t stop the huge grin from spreading across your face.

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@dumbificat 2024. please do not steal, copy or use my work with ai in any way.

#p.s. first time writing orv + gallagher so >< hope they’re okay !! #astronetwrk #・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗ #genshin #hsr #obey me #orv #genshin x reader #hsr x reader #obey me x reader #orv x reader #neuvillette x reader #wriothesley x reader #lyney x reader #gallagher x reader #jing yuan x reader #blade x reader #mammon x reader #lucifer x reader #simeon x reader #platonic luke x reader #yjh x reader #kdj x reader #fluff #boop

[theysangastheyslew]

No thoughts, just boop

Pre-war silliness inspired by this merch drop:

#levihan #boop #levi ackerman #hanji zoe #hange zoe #levi x hange #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot #snk #snk fanart #no but like i was drawing this before the great Boopening but had to work all day april 1 so i couldnt even post at the most perfect time 🥲 #also to the anons asking about hcs i see u im trying to write what few i have them down as i remember them #but most are post canon and idk if thats what youre looking for :[ #i maed dis

[did-i-do-this-write]

New experiment: I have to write 5 words per boop I get today.

I'm already up to 490 words.

Reblog to join me.

Do your worst.

#writing #writeblr #boop #writing community #writing motivation #writers on tumblr #zac speaks #the great motivation experiment

[mellowwillowy]

Speaking of booping,

Nerd reader yandere who boops your blog all day all night until this whole event ends. Maybe they are smart enough to devise a tool to automatically boop you or maybe they take booping as something of a sacred ceremonial event that must be performed with utmost diligence and perseverance.

They are just a cultist nerd <3

#yandere x reader #im trying to cope over the fact that i still cant write anything #happy booping night for me

[teencopandthesourwolf]

Stiles to Derek: Boop!

Derek, jumping backwards into a fighting stance: What the hell?!

Stiles: It's a boop, babe!

Derek: It's a what now?

Stiles: Oh my God, Der. A boop! Please don't tell me you've never been booped before! Are you——wow, Derek Hale, are you, like, a boop virgin?

Derek:

Stiles: *slowly going in for another boop*

Derek: *tackling Stiles to the ground and landing on top of him*

Stiles: *gasps*

Derek: Wow, Stiles Stilinski, are you, like, a virgin-virgin?

Stiles: What? Pfft, Der, you absolutely know I'm not. *flicks eyebrows lewdly*

Stiles: I, just, uh...

Stiles: Meow!

Derek: *instantly confused, loses his advantage*

Stiles: *speed boops Derek approximately 2,437 times*

Stiles: Ha!

Derek: *recovers like a ninja and retaliates by pinning Stiles and kissing him senseless*

Stiles and Derek: *kissing*

Stiles and Derek: *more kissing*

Stiles and Derek: *still kissing*

Scott, walking in on them: *gasps*

Scott: Oh, okay, very funny, I get it; April Fools, right? Jokes on me.

Stiles and Derek: *breaking off from the kiss*

Stiles: Um, no, bro we're, uh...

Derek: In love.

Stiles: *tears up*

Scott: *also tears up, but for very different reasons*

Derek: *gets up and pulls Stiles up with him, grabbing him by the hand*

Derek: *walks up to scott, dragging Stiles beside him*

Derek: *boops Scott*

Derek: *in a completely monotone voice* Boop.

Derek: *throws Stiles over his shoulder firefighter-style and walks off*

Stiles: *shouting from around the corner* HE'S THE ANAKIN TO MY PALPATINE, SCOTTY! I BROUGHT HIM OVER TO THE BOOPSIDE!!

Scott: *has a nervous breakdown*

.

for @greyhavenisback, to hopefully make you smile...

and A VERY APRIL BOOP DAY TO ALL YOU STEREK LOVE-FOOLS OUT THERE! <333 (may the boop be with you! lol)

#boop! #completely correct teen wolf quotes #sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #teen wolf #sterek chats #teen wolf chats #scoott mccall #scott finds out #april fool's day #april fools 2024 #tcats chats #tcats writes #teencopandthesourwolf

[witchcraftingboop]

When you meet her, death will be a shroud atop her head, a caul only to be lifted by skeletal hands in perfect silence. When time stops and there is nothing but air and dirt to embrace you, the image your mind will conjure will be her eyes, deep and dark and unfathomable. And when the winds turn to webs in your ears, the sky a gaping maw at your chest, the horizon like stones upon your back, there will be a howling in your chest, a glimpse of the suffering branded upon her irises. In the stillness that follows, in the blanketing of numbness over restless grief, there will come a scent like smoke, distant brush fires, molten rock, and finally, finally you will know what it means to see the death of another.

#boop writes #necromancy

[ryukatters]

from the start — s. gojo ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊

⟡ a/n: no thoughts head empty just satoru. annoyed!reader x lovesick!gojo will always hit idcidc!! Also I was listening to "from the start" by laufey while writing this

⟡ pairing: satoru gojo x fem! reader

⟡ content: fluff, mutual pining, idiots to lovers, awkward first kisses, ooc! gojo for a little bit, reader gets called a good girl, gojo's a little more emotionally intelligent than reader, takes place during your guys’ third year at jujutsu high (we ignore premature death and hidden inventory)

⟡ word count: ~1k

⟡ credits to this prompt list

Your first kiss with Gojo doesn’t go as planned.

Not that you were ever planning on kissing him in the first place— you might even argue that it was completely impulsive and spur of the moment. 

It’s just you and Satoru today, with Suguru being away on a mission and Shoko at the morgue, as usual. It's been a while since your schedules have matched up, so both of you decide to hit up your usual spot off campus. Satoru’s treat, he insists.

"You deserve it, after all," he says, slinging an arm around your shoulder, "you've been working so hard lately."

"Are you sure you're not just using me as an excuse to stuff your face full of food?" you huff, trying your best to wrestle his arm off you, but to no avail. If anything, it prompts Gojo to wrap both of his arms around you, with the two of you waddling together in a sort of quasi-conga line.

"Nah," he laughs, and a whispered "just wanna spend time with you, 's all," follows after.

The two of you are nestled in the comfort of the small cafe, tucked away from the harsh bite of frigid autumn air. You have a plate of fresh yakitori on the table in front of both of you— why he insists on sharing when he has the appetite of an elephant, you don’t know. 

“Say ahhhh,” he says, lifting a skewer to your mouth, to which you scowl.

“You are not feeding me.” 

He pouts, head tipped forward to reveal those annoying, blue puppy eyes underneath his glasses. “Pretty please?”

“No, Satoru. I can feed mysel—“ your reprimand is cut short by Gojo shoving the piece of chicken in your mouth. He even takes the liberty to grip your chin so you can close your mouth and chew. 

“There you go, good girl,” he smiles easily. You want to dump your bubble tea on top of his head. Instead, you decide to show a bit of decorum and ignore the overgrown furby next to you. 

He’s always like this. Flirting and teasing and being an overall menace to you. Sometimes, you think you can see some truth behind his act, but Satoru is Satoru and that means being an overall headache is engraved into his very soul. You choose to ignore your fluttering heartbeat whenever he's around.

It’s quiet for a moment, and quiet plus Satoru is never a good combination. You dare to look at him, gaze flitting over his annoyingly soft hair, annoyingly pretty eyes, sharp nose, plush, pink lips—

“You so want to kiss me right now,” he declares matter-of-factly. Those same lips are now upturned in an annoyingly handsome smirk.

“Now how did you come up with that ridiculous idea?” You sigh, slight exasperation lacing your features.

He leans in, close enough to be in your bubble, and pauses for a moment, as if he’s thinking long and hard studying your expression before cracking an obnoxiously wide grin and tapping your nose— “It’s written all over your face!” 

You scoff before giving his shoulder a rough shove, to which he laughs. Satoru thinks it's cute when you're a little worked up, and now he wants to kiss you.

Gojo doesn’t understand why you refuse to acknowledge the painfully obvious tension between you two. He likes you, a lot. In fact, he thinks it wouldn’t be a stretch to admit he’s just the tiniest bit in love with you after all these years. If he's being honest, he's getting a little desperate. He's not sure how much longer he can ignore the crushing feeling in his chest that seems to wound tighter with each passing day he's not yours. And he's confident that you at least somewhat reciprocate those feelings. So why fight it?

“Oh, what? Don't tell me I made you all shy no—mmfh!!” It’s your turn to cut him off, pressing your lips to his softly.

You're not entirely sure why you kissed Satoru in the first place. Maybe you just wanted him to shut up for once, to be the one that flusters him, or maybe, just maybe, you were tired of this push-and-pull dynamic that's been plaguing your entire friendship from the moment you two met. You think you're tired of swimming against a current so strong, that maybe you should just stop fighting it and see where it takes you.

It takes every single ounce of restraint in Gojo’s body to not flail around like a complete idiot when your lips meet his. 

You swear you can feel a slight residue stain your lips. Was he wearing lip balm? 

When you pull back, Gojo stays there, frozen in place. 

It’s almost comical, the way his blue eyes flutter open before they widen like saucers, a pink flush steadily creeping up his chest to the tips of his ears. You think you might have broken him. 

For the first time in the entirety you’ve known Satoru, he seems to be at a loss for words. 

For how suave the Gojo heir seems to be most of the time, you think it's a little funny how you can shut him up with a simple kiss. It's almost cute, and strangely comforting, in a way, how you can reduce the strongest sorcerer to a blushing mess. You’re left wondering where his big ego and all that confidence went.

You make the move to clean up after the both of you, but Satoru stops you with a hand wrapped around your arm, tugging you back down to sit, your thigh brushing his.

“Can we do that again?” Ah, there it was.

It’s your turn to be shocked. Satoru takes the silence as a chance to explain himself, “They say the second time’s the charm."

“Was the first time not charming enough for you?” You tease. 

“It was,” he smiles, leaning in as one hand cups your cheek, “but the second time’s going to be even better, I promise.” 

Work belongs to @ryukatters. Please do not repost or translate my writing anywhere.

#yeah he booped your nose :p #i want him so bad y'all #i'm also craving yakitori atm #kat's writing #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo fluff #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x y/n

[afewproblems]

Prompt 53. "I'm flirting with you!" Part Two

A follow up to This Post

@happymediummm I promise the answer to your ask will be up soon in part three!!

Eddie stews in his room for three days following the incident at Steve's house. 

Wayne attempts to coax him out with food and coffee, even opening up the pack of bacon they'd been saving in the freezer, anything to try and get Eddie to talk to him. 

"I'm just worried s'all," he says softly from Eddie's doorway on the third day, his expression pinched in that way Eddie hates, "you should go out, do something, come on".

Wayne claps his hands together and disappears for a moment only to return with a tape case from the living room.

"Wayne, no--"

"It's overdue Eds, just bring it back for me would ya?"

Eddie groans into his hands at the triumphant expression on his uncle's face as he gets up from his bed and tugs on his leather jacket. 

"Since your friends work there," Wayne says brightly, gesturing with the tape as he hands it over to Eddie, "you should see if they waive the late fee for us". 

"I agreed to take it back, not talk to people," Eddie grumbles under his breath as Wayne shakes his head and gives his shoulder a squeeze.

"At least you won't be growing mold anymore, sitting there in the dark," Wayne says with a wink, ignoring the indignant scoff Eddie makes.

"Store closes in a half hour kid, you better hurry!"

Shit.

Eddie grumbless petulantly as he hurries out the door, ignoring the way Wayne compares his groans to a haunted house door.

He doesn't smile at the jib, and it doesn't make him laugh for the first time in days as he gets into the van, it doesn't!

The parking lot of Family Video is empty, but what did he really expect on a Wednesday at half past eight in the evening. 

The Open sign is still on at least but the low lights in the building and the bright copper glare of the sunset make it so much more difficult to see who is working tonight. 

He could just toss the tape into the return slot and wait out the late fees, he's sure another video store will eventually open up in Hawkins, they can take their business there.

Eddie sighs heavily as he shuts off the van and yanks out the key, "dammit Wayne," he mutters under his breath as he gets out and makes his way to the door. 

Eddie winces at the sharp jingle of the bell above the door and looks around, his head on a swivel, looking for any sign of Steve and his big, stupid, hair.

Robin waves from the counter as Eddie spots her, she's grinning at him with a sly look on her face as she leans against the counter, the multiple buttons and pins on her vest clink against the glass surface.

"There he is," Robin crows, drumming the counter, "I was beginning to think Steve had kidnapped you or something, were you allowed out for good behavior?"

She seems to realize what she had just implied and winces, shaking her head as Eddie snorts mirthlessly. 

"Uh, no, I just came to return this for my uncle," Eddie mumbles, keeping his eyes level with the counter rather than Robin's eyes. 

She frowns at him, taking the tape he slides across the counter and scanning it without dropping her gaze. 

"What's with you?" She says suspiciously. 

Robin drums her fingers lightly against the counter, as the large computer beeps acknowledging the return.

"Nothing, tired," Eddie shrugs, he's not about to tell Robin about what happened, though it is weird that she doesn't already know? 

Maybe she wasn't in on it, he can't imagine that Buckley would approve of a prank like that on another 'friend of Dorothy' but she was Steve's best friend first and foremost.

A song comes on over the small Family Video speakers, humming in the background. 

'All I wanna do when I wake up in the morning is see your eyes

Rosanna, Rosanna…'

Robin wrinkles her nose, her eyes traveling towards one of the large speakers in the corner before looking back to Eddie, a large grin in place.

"God this sappy shit, I told Steve not to put this one on the tape, you must hate Toto".

Eddie shrugs again, glaring at the floor, wishing he could burn a hole into it that he could escape through. 

"He did play it…didn't he?" Robin asks quietly, a small trace of anxiety in her voice as she leans away from the counter.

Eddie stops himself from rolling his eyes; if he was being honest, the tape was a nice touch --really sold the whole prank, honestly.

He looks back up to find Robin staring at him, and sighs heavily, thrusting his hands in his pockets.

"Yeah," he huffs, taking a step back towards the front door, Robin's eyes follow his path in confusion, "I wasn't much of a fan of the choices".

"But it's fine right," Eddie scoffs, "he can use his little tape on someone his shit will actually work on next time".

"What?" Robin says incredulously, her face scrunches into a frown as Eddie laughs.

"You know Buckley, I'm surprised you were on board with this?" 

"Eddie, what the fuck are you talking about?" Robin hisses, shrill and loud, as she finally walks around the counter towards him.

"Oh don't give me that, he's your best friend, you're going to tell me he didn't tell you about his plan?" Eddie shakes his head as a high pitched laugh bubbles up out of his chest.

"I don't know what plan you're talking about Eddie," she says in a low voice, her eyes wide and angry, "the only thing Steve was going to do that night was tell you how he felt about you". 

"Yeah right, Steve Harrington, wants me? And that's not a fucking joke?"

She sucks her teeth, letting her eyes roam over his face, "this was such a mistake, okay, get out". 

Eddie sneers sharply, "a mistake?"

"Yeah, I never should have gotten his hopes up". 

Robin crosses to the window behind the counter and shuts off the second neon open sign before breezing past Eddie to pull the cord on the other sign, nearly hard enough to yank it down. 

No, no, no, no, it's not true, she's just saving face, she has to be…

Robin stands beside the door, a furious glare aimed at Eddie, "we're closed, get out, I need to go check on Steve". 

Unbelievable, Eddie does roll his eyes at this and heads towards her for the door, he takes the push bar in his hands and leans on it to swing the exit open before turning to Robin one last time, he wants so badly to have the last word it hurts.

"Better go check on King-Steve, I'm sure he's devastated," Eddie snarls, the furious fire from before burns bright in his chest as he watches Robin stiffen in the doorway.

"I haven't talked to him since Sunday Munson, until just now, I thought he was with you!"

Robin reaches out to grab both doors in her hands.

"Asshole," she scoffs, her eyes never leaving his as she locks the doors in his face. 

***

1980, Hawkins, Indiana

Eddie sniffles as he walks home, he can feel blood trickle down his chin from the split lip Paul gave him while his knee aches from where he hit the ground. 

He's not even sure what he did.

Paul had been so nice recently, talking with Eddie almost every day, eventually taking him under his wing. Paul was a year above Eddie at their Middle school, and when he had told Eddie to meet him under the bleachers after school, how could Eddie say no? 

It didn't help that Paul had soft blond hair, big hazel eyes that crinkled when he smiled, and the nicest laugh Eddie had ever heard.

What Eddie hadn't been expecting was Randy and David, also in Paul's grade, to be waiting for him. 

He breathes out a wet sob and keeps walking, scrubbing his face harshly as their trailer in Forest Hills comes into view, almost home.

Eddie reaches into his pocket and winces when he realizes his keys are gone, alongside his backpack.

They must have fallen out of his pocket in the scuffle.

The backpack was a different story.

He limps up the steps of their porch, wincing as the fabric of his jeans pulls at the drying blood on his knee, and knocks on the front door.

"Comin," Wayne calls from inside, "coming, wasn't expectin' anyone-- Ed?" 

Wayne's face goes through a series of expressions, from surprise, to anger, before settling on concern. 

He leans down and brings his hands up to Eddie's face, turning it gently to see the damage.

"Who did this," Wayne says quietly, he stands up to his full height, looking around the trailer park behind Eddie while tucking him closer.

"It was at school," Eddie sniffles again, his voice growing tight, "I'm okay". 

Wayne looks down at him for a moment before shaking his head and moving out of the door to pull Eddie inside.

"Hurt anywhere else?" Wayne asks as he walks Eddie to the kitchen, one arm around his shoulder as though afraid the fourteen year old will collapse at any moment.

"I fell, my knee hurts," Eddie mumbles as he sits at the kitchen table in the corner while Wayne crosses to the cabinets and busies himself with grabbing two clean wash clothes and peroxide from the cupboard above their stove.

It's quiet for a moment while Wayne wets one of the clothes at the sink and makes his way back to Eddie.

He kneels on the floor, balancing his weight on his good knee while the other remains bent at a more comfortable ninety degree angle. His joints creak slightly as he gets comfortable but he still smiles at Eddie all the same.

"Won't you be sore after this?" Eddie sighs, wishing Wayne would just let him go to the washroom now to clean himself up. 

"You let me worry about that," Wayne grumbles as he reaches up to wipe the blood and dirt from Eddie's face with the wet cloth. It's warm from the water and Wayne's gentle hand.

"So, you gonna tell me what happened?" Wayne asks softly, as he reaches for the bottle of peroxide and tips it into the second cloth. He tilts Eddie's face to dab gently at the now dirt free cuts.

Eddie sucks his teeth at the sting and closes his eyes.

He doesn't even know where to really start. 

Paul hadn't been the one to push him off his feet, that had been Randy, but that hadn't stopped Paul from laughing and calling Eddie a fairy. 

David had been the one to take his bag, dumping everything out into the dirt and ripping it until the zipper broke. 

Luckily all of his school books were still in his locker, but all of the campaign notes from his most recent D&D game had been in there, along with the worn copy of the Hobbit his mother had given him. 

All of it was still sitting in the mud and grass by the bleachers, stomped into the ground by David's white sneakers.

Eddie shrugs as Wayne leans back slightly. He takes Eddie's leg and slowly bends the knee at the joint, his eyes search Eddies for any sign of strain. The only sting comes from the way the jean material pulls at the drying blood from his scrapes.

Wayne breathes out and scrubs a hand over his tired face, his fingers catch on the grey stubble as they slide down and drop into Wayne's lap.

"I'll make an appointment on Monday with the principal," Wayne says as he stands up with a stifled groan, turning away from Eddie who shakes his head like a wet dog. 

"Wayne you can't--"

"Edward, what do you expect me to do? You come home lookin' like hell and you won't tell me what happened?" 

Eddie bites his split lip hard enough for the faint taste of copper to stain his tongue once more, how could he tell Wayne just what those boys had yelled at him as he sat in the dirt cradling his head, wishing he'd just gone home.

Wayne sighs loudly as he raises his face towards the ceiling, his lips move slightly but Eddie can't make out what he's saying before he looks back at Eddie, his expression worn.

"Okay, okay," Wayne murmurs, walking back towards Eddie, he pulls one of the other mismatched chairs towards himself and sits down, "I won't call, but you have to meet me halfway, alright?" 

Eddie hesitates, swallowing roughly, maybe there was a way to tell Wayne without telling him everything.

"There were some boys at school, um," Eddie picks at one of the holes in his blue jeans, pulling at the frayed thread absently, "I guess just, one at first but…".

His eyes burn suddenly as the words rip through him once again.

"He told me to come to the bleachers and then," Eddie's voice wobbles this time as his throat tightens, "there were more of them and they…called me--" 

Eddie shakes his head, ducking it down to hide his shining eyes, he doesn't notice Wayne coming closer until he feels a hand in his hair and the dam finally breaks.

Six years later, Eddie can still remember what his uncle told him that day as he cried in his arms.

"People can be cruel, especially when they don't understand, and sometimes that means being careful of who you open yourself up to. But you can tell me anything Ed, and I'll love ya no matter what. You always have home to come back to". 

Eddie knew people like Steve Harrington. He'd been around them his whole life. 

Sometimes they went by Paul, sometimes by Jason, or Billy.

But that didn't make them any less dangerous, any less capable of inflicting hurt on people that were different. 

So, Robin could say that Steve wasn't like that until she was blue in the face, because she was…wrong…

Wasn't she?

Taglist: @ihavekidneys @superchellerific @zerokrox-blog @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @croatoan-like-its-hot @messrs-weasley @samcoxramblings @warlordess @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @lostonceandneverfound @shunna @fairytalesreality

Part Three now up!

#beep boop misunderstandings again #steddie #unrequited love or is it #mutual pining #steve harrington #eddie munson #afewproblems writes #stranger things #now we are getting into some plot #I can't write anything short im my own worst enemy #sigh #we love a supportive wayne in this house #we love a protective robin in this house #we might need a playlist for this guy #part three will be up soon answering the second prompt: I need you to forgive me #angst with a happy ending I promise

[sourrcandy]

to all my writeblr boopers out there, YOU! yes, you! write 10 words per boop you receive and pass the boop on <3

#writeblr #boop #april fools day #writing game #intrusive thought check

[d3arapril]

abby loves when you tug on her braid… 18+!

she loves it when you give it a little pull when you're kissing, moans into your mouth and tightens her grip on your t-shirt and when you wrap the long strands around your fist and really tug she has to pull away and whine a little, eyes screwed shut and lips parted slightly.

she loves it even more if you pull her braid when she's going down on you, grab her hair by the roots and force her face away from your pussy so you can get a good look at her- eyes heavy, lips swollen and wet from you. if she's lucky you'll let her carry on without having to say please.

she loves it the most if you pull on it when you finally decide to fuck her. slot yourself between her legs, thighs tangled between her own and start slow, slow until she's trying to hide her face in the pillow but you reach forward and knit your fingers in the base of her braid, forcing her to look down at where you're both making a mess. "i want you to watch." and she's speechless, wide eyed and nodding eagerly with her hands neatly tied above her head where you left them.

yeah it’s safe to say she loves it a lot.

#feeling so normal about her rn 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 #abby anderson #abby anderson smut #abby tlou smut #abby tlou #abby anderson x reader #the last of us #the last of us smut #tlou smut #Beep boop #🦭 #my writing

[isnt-it-pretty]

Booping people instead of writing

#boop #booping #writing #writblr