#clean writing

[clean-prompts]

Dialogue Prompt

"You're serious this time?"

"Yes--I'm serious. Today is the day!"

"That's what you said yesterday... and the day before."

#Dialogue Prompt #Writing #clean writing #clean writing prompts #dialogue #prompt #prompts

[flamingpudding]

Guys it's just merch

Danny watched with a smile hidden behind his mug of hot cocoa his new family. Originally he was only going to mess with them a little, since he wanted to keep his civilian live he gained with them but at the same time wanted to kind of provoke them to tell him about their night time jobs on their own.

Not like he could just flat out tell them he knew about their vigilantes lifes and that would be embarrassing to explain.

It's not every day that Danny's powers fluked on him, but with the stress of the past months, it happened. Right at a moment, he had to be clumsy and trip over his own feet and accidentally phased through a grandfather's clock, finding a hidden passage. Well at least he learned that way that Batman hadn't placed him with some other rich fruitloop that wasn't his godfather but well... with Batman himself and his family out of mask.

Yeah no, he did not want to explain that and hoped they would do that themselves. But apparently, they took Danny's statement of wanting a normal life a bit too serious.

Which brought him back to his current entertainment in the form of messing with his siblings.

"I don't get what the problem is guys. It's just merch." He chuckled slightly at the face Damian was making. While Jason chose to kick Tim under the table.

"Soooo how much merch on Red Robin do you have with this shirt now?" Dick asked instead with a bright smile, Danny still hadn't figured out how to tell what emotion he hid behind them sometimes.

"I think this is my third shirt of him." Danny mused, placing his cup back on the table and tapping his lip in a thinking motion. "Though I was going to pick up a couple of custom-made jackets of Red Hood and a Nightwing plush later today."

He acted like he did not hear the triumph like hiss of 'yes' from Jason as well as the very upset huff of Damian.

He just grinned at the amusement about how they apparently were competing over how much merch he owned of each of them.

When he found a Robin figure and several Robin pins mysteriously placed on his desk the next morning, he broke out laughing. Yet still just to mess with them gushed about his newly gotten merch to his family while sharing a knowing look with Alfred who knew he was just messing with them.

If there was a surprising amount of Batman merch, suddenly mixed into what he already owned the following week without his knowledge. Well, he wasn't going to complain about free stuff.

But he still would get a good laugh out of their reactions on the day he decided to full on dawn every piece of Batman merge instead of theirs.

#danny fenton #danny phantom #dp x dc #dpxdc #crossover #dcxdp #tim drake #damian wayne #jason todd #dick grayson #bruce wayne #the batfam think danny doesn't know about their vigilante lifestyle #and they are determind that it stays that way so Danng can have his normal life #but Danny alrwady found out ia clumsy accident #now he is just messing with them with the use of merch #he is also wondering how long it will take them to crack and come clean #he didnt think they would make it a competition of whos merch he owns the most of #random late night thoughts #late night stress writing

[megofwands]

There’s a mixture of pain and adoration.

Journal Entries

#mm #prose #my writing #my edit #vent edit #handwriting #trying to stay clean!!!!! #oddcore #weirdcore #ventcore #angercore #ragecore #horrorcore #strangecore #creepycore #digital edit #mixed media #typography #fake gore

[seasonsshadow]

Make a "Top 5 Tracks" List

Jobs that pay by the word are common. In those cases, bust out your inner Victor Hugo or Kronk from the Emporer’s New Grove. “And here you have a moment of confirmation – the poison. The poison for Kuzco. The poison chosen especially to kill Kuzco. Kuzco’s poison. That poison?” Some companies pay 3 CENTS a word. THREE cents. If they’re going to be like that, pull out all the stops. Craft…

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#adverbs #clean writing #Editing #Tips #Tricks #weak words #Writer #Writing

[starrystevie]

“i must have been real sweet on you,” eddie murmurs as he runs his fingers over his husband’s cheek, sleepy and sated, warm in their bed. 

steve chuckles, twisting his head to catch the tips of eddie’s fingers with a kiss. “why are you talking past tense? you’re not sweet on me now?”

the room is peacefully still. years of baby monitors are long gone only to inevitably give way to their daughter’s teenage years of slamming doors and too loud stereo speakers. but in this moment, with the pale moonlight streaming in through the windows and crickets chirping in the distance, the room is peaceful, thick with love. 

“quit your pouting, ‘course i’m sweet on you now.” eddie wipes away steve’s fake frown with a kiss, turning it into a sticky sweet grin. “it’s just something my mom used to tell me. that freckles are all the places your soulmate in a past life kissed you.”

eddie pushes steve back so he’s laying flat on the mattress and dips his head to press featherlight kisses on the side of his neck. across his shoulders. over his cheeks. his fingertips flutter over the spots afterwards, leaving goosebumps in their wake despite the heat radiating between them. 

“must have loved you a whole lot in our last lives to leave so many on you now,” eddie whispers, pulling back to stroke the back of his hand over steve’s face once more, letting his lips curl up in a dopey half smile that only steve ever gets to see. 

it doesn’t take long for steve to tilt his head up and press kisses of his own where he can; under eddie’s eye, the bottom of his chin, right over his heart. it doesn’t take long for eddie to giggle as his sensitive spots are found and attacked with ticklish kisses and fluttering eyelashes. it doesn’t take long for their legs to tangle together underneath the sheets and their breaths to get caught in their chests and their hearts to start beating a beautiful melody of their own making. 

steve lays a firm kiss to the side of eddie’s chest, over jagged white scarring and half bitten away tattoos. over memories that somehow don’t haunt them as much anymore. 

“what was that one for?” eddie asks, eyes half lidded, the adoration in his voice loud across the quiet room. 

another kiss on another scar. “wanna give you some freckles. for your next life and for this one, too. so you know just how sweet on you I am-” kiss, “ -and was-” kiss, “- and forever will be.”

they won’t know for however many more years if it worked or not. but here in this lifetime, they have all the time in the world to try their damndest to make sure it does. in this lifetime, they don’t have to worry, because they know they’ll  find each other in the next one. 

#i was cleaning up my google docs and found this fully written piece that i never did anything with so #here ya go i suppose #this was not really read over a bunch so sorry for any typos #my writing #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fluff #steddie drabble #steddie fic #future happily married steddie with a daughter my most beloved #crossposted on twt! find me there @starry_stevie

[bratfiction]

warnings -> 18+ CONTENT, MDNI. f!reader, lots of rich people talk, baby fever, petnames, baby trapping.

felix who genuinely thinks it’s okay if you two have a baby so young… because—no, no. hear me out, darling— you’re both loaded anyway. both from wealthy families with marble floors and enough maids to make up a small country in europe. you two can practically do whatever you want. you’re damn near invincible, as far as he’s concerned.

you’re pained to admit that when you think about it— about having a round belly courtesy of the one ‘n only felix catton to show off, about decorating the nursery in whatever million pound home his parents set you two up in, about the beautiful baby shower you’ll have in the garden. floral pots of fruity tea and pastries on tiers, pastel balloons and bouquets everywhere… it sounds so dreamy, doesn’t it?

finally, you crack one day. your breaking point being the love in felix’s cocoa irises as his larger hand engulfs yours, long fingers gently lacing with your own like the most delicate ribbons on a designer corset. your knees press into the bed on either side of his waist as you sit on him. your pretty skirt fans over the crotch of his jeans, his lower abdomen— all while your chest nearly heaves under the weight of what you’re about to say— “let’s have a baby.”

felix beams. smiles wider than you’ve ever seen before he kisses the back of your hand with exaggerated kissy sounds. and before you know it, you can barely hold yourself together. he has you pinned beneath him— smaller hands pinned to his sweaty chest while his eyes are fixed on your breasts that bounce with every meaningful thrust. each push and pull of his hips is driven by the pure need to knock you up, to be crass. sweet kisses are placed on your drooly lips.

“oh, bambi,” he’ll whisper, as if you’re even coherent enough to pay attention to any syllable that leaves his heated, dangerous mouth; “you’ve made me s’happy.”

you swear he’s never been this deep before, with the head of his cock brushing up on that little spot and surpassing it to nudge up on your cervix. it knocks the breath out of you, makes you babble nonsense and forget about the shotgun wedding you two will be forced to have on the vast but luxurious grounds of saltburn.

#⌨️.kit's writing #🤍.saltburn #felix catton smut #felix catton x reader #saltburn smut #okay. now it’s time to clean up my mlist

[murdrdocs]

okay but sex w hobie + eye contact = heaven. like he definitely forces you to hold eye contact with him as he's absolutely pounding into you. he will hold onto your cheeks and make you look at him and probably tease you relentlessly too .

stopped cleaning my room for this but listen

eye contact is everything to hobie, just like in general. it always makes the sex 10 times better when your eyes are locked onto each others, both of you needing to really see the other to get off.

and basically in any position there's heavy eye contact. but especially when you're riding him, your hands on his chest, you bouncing on his dick like your life depended on it. if your eyes close for even a few seconds, if your head lolls away from his viewpoint, his hand is wrapped around your chin to turn you to face him.

"eyes on me," he tells you, but you're fucked out, and close, and switching between watching hobie's cock disappear and reappear at your cunt, to closing your eyes in ecstasy. he notices where your gaze is focused, and his voice quickly takes a teasing tone. "fuckin' mesmerizing, innit? 's like she's been made for me."

and you wanna stare for a little longer but then hobie has one of his hands squishing your cheeks together while the other holds onto your hips, giving him leverage to start to fuck up into you.

"but i said eyes on me. yeah?"

#okay back to cleaning #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie brown smut #hobie brown #hobiesworld! #celeste writes mcu

[omtai]

got too crazy last night & made a fake Gerard Fangoria cover... 🧛‍♀️

📸: Jess Gleeson

#omtai art #mcr #mcrsydney #i had a dream i got a cease and desist from tumblr if i posted this... #But its literally fine and nobody cares and jimmy from fangoria said its fine #my brain so wack #anyways. making this was so so fun #the bordering on the logo is really fucky btw so dont look too hard at it #cuz i couldnt find a highres vector anywhere so i had to screenshot the svg off the site 😭 & then magicwand it #but the site didnt have the border so i had 2 add it myself #and its too thick and wraps weirdly but Deal with it i dont have photoshop i made this in csp #also god bless the people at mcrchive for making clean drumhead writings. i was fully prepared to just do it myself #i did for the 'in the swarm' tho its really hard trying to digitally mimic drip markers... #i wanted to put the guys in the boxes on the side but the photographer didnt post any photos of frank #if they took any #and it was like 4am at that point i dndt wanna go hunt for a frank photo from that night #So this is the gerard solo cover. enjoy #blood

[bluerosefox]

Over Tea

A sudden chill sweeps through Gotham, almost like Mr. Freeze had just attacked only thing was the man was currently locked away in Arkham, and was felt by all. And talked by all via word of mouth and on social media as well.

The clouds and smog that covered their dark city shifted and swirled, a rumble beginning deep inside them as the weather turned from smoggy to rain and thunder with no real warning. The strangest thing was the green glow that could be seen when thunder rumbled inside the gray clouds.

Then like a candle being blown out, the rumbling stopped, the rain ended, and the clouds parted all over Gotham.

For the first time in a while Gotham had a clear sky and it felt... it felt like something heavy had been lifted off the city.

It was this sudden shift and the all felt chill that had set off alerts for Batman and his family. Since early morning since the first change and shift happened he was in front of the Batcomputer trying to narrow down where it started.

After hours of searching with the help of Red Robin, Oracle and strangely enough Red Hood, they managed to narrow down where the odd power had been coming from.

Was still coming from, only very low.

The old and abandoned observatory tower.

-x-x-

"More ecto-tea Lady Gotham?" Danny asked, his hand waving towards the steaming pot nearby.

The woman smiled lightly, her dark painted lips curling up to show her sharp fangs for a moment before saying "No but thank you Young Kingling though I would like more cookies if you don't mind. Now where were we?"

Danny nodded towards her and signaled towards a maid skeleton ghost who walked forward with a tray of cookies. The maid swiftly placed a few more cookies on the spirit embodiment of Gotham plate before bowing and stepping away.

"We were just about to discuss the sentience of the Court of Owls." Danny said as he lightly tapped the large almost mountain of paperwork on the table they were sitting at, floating high above the floor as shooting stars and planets drifted around them. Many ghosts floated around as well, servants that had sworn their loyalty to the Young King, and were preparing things like snacks and drinks for two powerful beings in the room as they discussed business. Nearby doors and windows though were ghostly knights that stood tall and alert, making sure no interlopers interrupted the meeting taking place and ready to defend not only Lady Gotham but their King.

"Ah yes them." Lady Gotham grimaced as she took a drink of her ecto-tea. "That will take some time for us to discuss, they've been running around unchecked for to long and even with my limited abilities to hinder them has been less than ideal."

"You, Lady G, were deeply cursed for many, many years and I just broke most of it." Danny cut in quickly, he was not about to let this wonderful and powerful city spirit blame herself for something out of her hands "Due to said curse you couldn't do much so please don't go blaming yourself. Its mostly broken now, so you can freely start healing yourself and your city self now that jerk demon that cursed you is in Walker's prison for his crimes."

Lady Gotham grew silent for a moment, her dark eyes staring deeply at the young King but then warmly smiled, well as warm as she could seeing how she was Gotham itself. "You reminded me of my Knight, Young King, treating me like this. Not afraid to point out the truth and facts."

Danny gave a light laugh as he took a hold of one of the cookies on his plate and gave a bite "I'll take that as a compliment Lady Gotham. Now about those Court of Owls...."

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dp x dc #blue rambles #crossover #writing ideas #random idea #danny phantom dc #dpxdc #dcxdp #ghost king danny #Danny visited Gotham as part of his new kingly duties to discuss things #only to find the city spirit chained and cursed by a demon #he fought the demon and kicked its butt now that he's cleaning up Pariah Dark bad management #Lady Gotham been trying to save her city self for years but couldn't do much #Her Dark Knight and his bats and birds helped ease the pain #but the demon encouraged and influenced a lot of Batman's rogue's #The Joker is the one he's most proud of #Lady Gotham did her best to save her people from his influence #some listened others didn't #anyways Danny came to Gotham because he noticed a lot of papers for the city and well #again found the demon and fought him #it caused a huge shift in Gotham that couldn't be ignored #and we all know Batman wouldn't ignore it. #Honestly I just wanted Ghost King Danny and Lady Gotham discussing business and drinking tea as they float. #I like to think the Batfam do get to the Observatory and somehow sneak in even with all the guards. #what happens next I leave open for others to play with. #11 pm ideas and thoughts

[l3viat8an]

Lucifer: You seem happy. What are you writing?

Satan: A will.

Lucifer: Well it is smart to prepare for the future and-

Satan: It's yours.

Lucifer: Of course, it is.

#I’m cleaning out dumb drafts- so let’s pretend that demons write wills too #surprise it’s queue! #ro’s dumb stuff tag! #obey me! #obey me shitpost #obey me crack #obey me incorrect quotes #obey me #obey me satan #obey me lucifer #om! satan #om! lucifer #om! shall we date #om! shit post #om! crack #om!

[clean-prompts]

Dialogue Prompt

"Hey, can we talk?"

"That depends. Am I actually going to be able to say anything or is this just an excuse for you to express your emotions and then invalidate everything I have to say?"

"Well... I mean, if what you're saying is invalid--"

#Source: You know those daydreams you end up hurting yourself with? oof yeah this the tea #dialogue prompt #writing #clean writing #clean prompts #clean writing prompt #clean writing prompts #prompt #prompts #writing motivation

[becca-e-barnes]

Cannot stop thinking about making a really submissive Bucky cum until he can't anymore 😵‍💫

I love the thought of working load after load from him and the way that he'd go from being pretty quiet and composed to whimpering and writhing, unsure if he needs more or less of your touch.

Getting him to a stage where he feels empty. He feels like he has nothing left to give you. You've made him watch as you jerk him off with a delightfully lubed hand, squeezing and tugging until his cock is twitching and throbbing and shooting thick, messy stripes of cum against your palm. You don't stop after he's finished though. His release only makes the glide of your hand smoother and the sight of his own pearly cum being worked back over his cock makes him hard again in no time.

"Please." He groans, throwing his head back, exposing his beautiful throat. Your hand tightens around his cock involuntarily and you find yourself almost wishing you had your other hand around his neck. "Please don't make me cum again. I-I can't."

Bless him, his strong thighs are twitching, his muscles tense, trying to force his body to listen to his brain for just a second.

"Sweetheart, I don't think you're empty yet. You gave me so much cum just a few minutes ago." You let yourself give in just a little, leaning over and kissing along the column of his throat, enjoying the light salty perspiration against your lips.

Bucky rolls his hips but it's hard for him to tell if he's trying to lean into your touch or away from it. In truth, he loves feeling like this. He loves having his cum milked from him and having no choice but to enjoy the mind numbing pleasure of your body.

His thighs are streaked with evidence of his own lust and he's almost ashamed that he's still hard. Not just as hard as he was when you started though.

"F-Fuck." The slick sound of your hand pumping him quickly is overwhelming. Your grip is tight on his shaft while you cup his balls, squeezing and teasing them gently, encouraging them to work overtime for you.

"I can't cum again. I can't." Bucky pants, whimpering when he forces his eyes to meet yours again.

"You told me that last time. I'm not sure when you decided it would be a good idea to lie to me but I promise you, it isn't." Your tone would make him tense but he's tense already, trying to hold back an orgasm he truly doesn't need.

"This is the last orgasm I want from you. You can manage it for me, can't you?" You sound so sincere this time, he can't help but agree.

"Good boy. Now cum nice and hard for me. I want to hear how pathetic you sound."

For the next few minutes, there are no sounds except the delightfully wet sound of your hand working lube and cum against his dick and the frantic moans of a man reaching a level of pleasure that verges just nicely on painful.

When he does cum, you let it splash against your palm once more and you notice how little he's able to provide you with. He's entirely empty, legs shaking but babbling how grateful he is for the way you touch him.

Now that he's spent, it feels like your turn to enjoy yourself while he watches and nothing sounds better than touching yourself with the hand that's covered in his cum.

#becca's thots #becca writes spice #subby!bucky #sub!bucky #it's official #I have the keys to my new house!! #I went over really early this morning and got started on my unholy deep clean #If it can be bleached I will bleach it #if it can't be bleached I will scrub it until it wishes it could've been bleached #and it's silly because it's really clean already #it's nice to get in and start planning my projects though #I'm thinking a little log burner in my main living room #my bedroom only really needs to be repainted so I'll do that by the end of the week #and then I'll move on to the kitchen but that'll be a bigger project

[ghost-proofbaby]

a simple life (e.m.)

summary: you try to clean your depression room while eddie's over, but he keeps distracting you.

warnings: none except mentions of a dirty room and panties. also... a lot of nicknames. womp womp. not edited.

pairing: eddie munson x gn!reader

wc: 1.4k+

a/n: just a little sweet something i wrote thinkin' about eddie while i took on the task of finally cleaning my depression room after a few months of putting it off. idk. this is boring. i'm sorry.

“Where did you even get this postcard?”

“Eddie.”

“Or what about this choker? Is that a bat? It’s a- oh my God, babe. Why don’t you ever wear this? This is hot.”

Originally, you had thought it was a good idea. Invite Eddie over, allow the body-doubling tactic to work its magic, and voila – you’d finally have the clean room you’d been talking about achieving for weeks now, within a few hours. 

“Baby,” you scold, trying to reach across the bed to snatch the necklace he’d found out of his hands. It proves to be difficult, a small pile of laundry you’d been folding hindering you. 

“Sweetheart,” he mimics right back, quick to hold the necklace out of your reach, as if you were anyone near from stealing it back from him. 

“I asked you to come over to help me, not distract me,” you sigh, crossing your arms and trying to look as pitiful as possible. When you’d first invited him over, you’d assured him that he needn’t lift a single finger. You didn’t want him here to help by aiding in throwing away any of the trash that had begun to litter your desk or taking any dirty plates to the kitchen. No, the intention had been him helping with his mere presence – quiet presence. He was supposed to be working on a new campaign for Hellfire, not being so damn nosey and going through the few items you’d tossed onto the bed from the floor, “I just recently bought that necklace, I haven’t had a chance to wear it.”

His eyes light up mischievously, a small grin tugging at his lips, “Why not wear it now, then? Perfect opportunity, yeah?” 

“I’m not fulfilling any slutty maid fantasies you have, Eddie.” 

“What if I say please?” 

You huff and decide to give up the fight about the necklace, returning back to the laundry before you. You were almost done. You were almost done after a full day of cleaning. If your adorably curious boyfriend would just stop picking at your belongings, you’d probably be able to finish within the hour. 

He stands from the small space on your bed he had made for himself, a nest of sorts that he had taken from simply curling up into for a ‘nap’ (which never happened’ to sitting up as he had just been as he clearly grew more bored with each passing moment. “Want some help with folding?” 

“You just want an excuse to get your grubby hands on my underwear,” you grumble, folding a shirt with slightly more vigor to emphasize your point.

You’re right, of course. The first article of clothing he grabs is a pair of lacy black panties. 

“Guilty,” he coos jokingly, but to your surprise, he actually folds the lingerie. Neatly, at that. With careful hands, he folds it even nicer than you would have in your haste, going as far as walking to your dresser and putting it away into the correct drawer. And then, he takes it a step further, and begins to put away the other clothing you’d already neatly wrapped up, suddenly depleting the mountain of laundry by half, “You know, I don’t mind helping you clean.”

“I already told you, you’re helping by bein-” you start to protest, hands grabbing at a random jean leg but not quite yanking it from the pile. 

He’s quick to interrupt you, taking that pair of jeans right from you, “I don’t want to just lay there while you do all the work, contrary to all the sources that say men enjoy that.”

His face isn’t quite as taunting as it had been moments before. Some of the joking has vanished, replaced by something more serious yet somehow softer. The jeans are slung over his arms, neatly halved twice before he sets them to the side and looks at you. 

Your shame is palpable, though. You’d just gotten over the embarrassment of having him over when your room would get this filthy. Disastrous in the worst of ways. Dirty clothes strewn everywhere, plates left for days on any surface you could find in your laziness, coke cans and random trash littering the floor. It was embarrassing. You know he had promised to love you through the good and the ugly, but this was far uglier than he could have ever imagined signing up for. 

It was bad enough to have him see it, let alone clean it. 

“It’s embarrassing,” you finally say quietly. His head tilts, so adorable it tugs at all your heart strings, and you take it as your queue to continue in a near whisper, “It’s gross - I’m gross.” 

“Sweetheart, have you even seen my room?” he scoffs. He’s quick to shove some of the clean clothes up into a pile just enough that he can take a seat at the corner of your bed, quickly reaching out to grab your hands and guide you between his spread legs, “Shit happens. Life gets stressful, work gets busy, sometimes we just don’t feel like cleaning up. Shit happens,” his thumb is sweeping soothingly over your knuckles, clearing the impending storm you hadn’t even been aware of. Maybe he hadn’t either – a naturally caring and comforting aura has always been his thing rather than yours, “Out of everyone in this world, I am the least qualified to judge you.” 

You don’t really understand it. How he can sit there, looking up at you so dreamily when the two of you are situated in the middle of your still unkempt room, your neck still chilled with a layer of sweat and your hair tumbling out of the bun you hadn’t properly secured. But he is. He’s looking at you not as if he doesn’t see the mess, both of the room and of yourself, but as if he does and simply doesn’t care. 

“Besides,” his lips are splitting with another grin, his hands squeezing your hands three times, “It’s kind of domestic. ‘M kind of into it.” 

“Me? Doing laundry?” you snort, blinking away any fears that had crept up. It’s hard to feel inadequate with his eyes on you, spilling so many sweet nothings like it’s just another casual Tuesday conversation and not the fuel to your beating heart, “Didn’t you just say you don’t want to just sit and-”

“Us,” he cuts you off in correction, “Us doing laundry.”

“You… like the thought of doing laundry with me?” you say slowly, carefully, unsure of the words as they fall from your lips. 

Doing laundry sounded like the least romantic thing the two of you could ever partake in. 

“I like the thought of doing laundry with you,” he repeats with a nod, “I like the thought of doing laundry with you, of doing dishes together after we just made the world's most mediocre dinner ever, of you complaining when I won’t get up so you can make the bed on the weekend,” he tugs you even closer. You have no choice but to let a knee fall to each side of his hips, straddling his lap as he wraps his arms around you and he leans forward to press a chaste kiss to one of your collar bones, “Call me cheesy. I like the thought of a simple life, but only if it’s with you.” 

Something warms inside of you. The thought of a life of simplicity, of lazy mornings and boring afternoons, all brightened up by the boy in front of you. A boy who creates magical worlds with his words on a weekly basis, a boy obsessed with fantasy novels and all things adventurous, who wants his greatest life adventure to just be a mundane lifetime with you. 

You can imagine it would be anything but mundane with Eddie, but the tranquility still exists and blankets the two of you. 

You lift a hand, carding it through his scalp, careful not to let your fingers snag on his messy curls, “Does this mean you’ll do your taxes with me next week?” 

With a quick snort, he buries his face into your chest, shaking his head furiously, “Don’t push it, sweetheart.” 

You know he will, though. He’ll help you fold the laundry, he’ll help you wash the dishes, and he’ll certainly sit through the dreadful hours of doing taxes if they’re spent with you. 

A few beats of silence. His arms have wrapped just right so that his warm palm presses into your lower back, the other hand tracing a mindless circle over your shirt a few inches higher. Your breathing matches his, fingers rubbing a matching pattern into his scalp that has him humming periodically.

The laundry will get done eventually, but it can wait. For now, you just want to hold your boy, and let him hold you. 

“It’s a date,” he finally gives in, voice muffled, making you smile widely, “I’ll light candles and everything, sweetheart.”

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea @kellsck @cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking @witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore @mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog @vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria @loveryanax @stylexrepp @princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles

#my writing #ghost's stories #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #this is so boring lmao my bad #i do believe he'd be such a lil nuisance if i was trying to clean with him in the room #this was written in under an hour and definitely not edited my bad #just wanted to stretch my legs with our favorite metalhead idk #look at me #finally writing and posting again #ooooooooo #i want a simple life with him please

[sacredfire44]

Kinda wanna read/write a post-canon Bingqiu fic set years later, where during some routine, silly wife plot, Binghe somehow finds out that the soul attached to his husband’s body is not, in fact, the original soul.

Like any person, his first assumption isn’t that his husband had replaced the original SQQ. It’s that an imposter has replaced his husband.

A skilled imposter. One who knows all of his husband’s little quirks, who slipped under even Binghe’s watchful eye.

Binghe takes care to not indicate that he’s noticed. His blood parasites confirm this is still his husband’s body, and he refuses to scare them into running before he can get the imposter out.

Binghe spends weeks researching and practicing, until he’s finally certain he can tear the imposter’s soul apart without hurting his husband. Praying, desperately, that it’s a powerful possession instead of a replacement. Praying his husband is still alive in there.

Finally, he slips into the imposter’s dreamscape, clinging to threads and forcing his way as close to the soul as possible, for the surface-level dreams show him in SQQ’s body. Inside, he finds a small man, with big eyes and stick-thin arms, features far too similar to his Shizun. A cheap, pathetic mockery of Shen Qingqiu, he makes sure to tell them.

They are weak outside of Shen qingqiu’s powerful body. It is all too easy to restrain them, to rage and revile them for their crimes, to question what they’ve done, to tear them apart, limb from limb-

“How long?,”He’d snarled, furious, claws digging into the pathetic parasite’s left arm, yanking it just far enough for the strain to burn.

“Years,”The imposter says, eyes wide and wet. Crying.

Years. Years with his husband that this imposter has taken, has stolen from them. Nights spent entangled, lazy mornings spent curled into each other’s embrace, soft evenings spent watching the sunset.

Binghe yanks the arm the rest of the way out, relishing in the way the parasite screams. It will know pain for what it’s taken from him, for what it’s taken from his Shizun.

XXXX

At first, Shen Qingqiu, formerly Shen Yuan, didn’t know what was happening. He’d thought of himself as Shen Qingqiu for years now, so waking up in his original body had been confusing and disorienting.

When Binghe appeared as well, he knew immediately it was a nightmare. It couldn’t be anything but that. Binghe, his Binghe as he was now, would never look at him like this, like he was the dirt on the bottom of his shoe, the scum of the earth.

It was rare to have nightmares nowadays. Binghe was always watching his dreams too closely to let something like that slip by. But the last few weeks, he’d been absorbed in his newest little pet project, exhausted and stressed by whatever it was he refused to talk about. Shen Qingqiu didn’t blame him for having one night of sleep without constant vigilance.

“So the imposter shows himself,”Dream-Binghe said, and ah, what an odd thing to dream up! Shen Qingqiu was just as good as the original goods, and he knew it! There was no way at all he had such insecurities, and certainly not any strong enough to appear as dreams! If he’d had such dreams before, that was simply a coincidence, a trick of the mind repeating the scenario it’d already created to avoid making a new one.

But Binghe doesn’t rant and rave at him for lying, doesn’t call out his betrayal. Instead, his eyes hard and cold, his claws tight where they dig into his wrists, he questions him.

Why?

I don’t know, Shen Qingqiu has to answer. I woke up in this body.

Where is he?

I don’t know, he answers again.

How long?

Here, Shen Qingqiu bites down a cry of pain as his left arm his yanked painfully out, a loud pop as it tugs out of his socket. The pain is real, he realizes deliriously. It’s real the way the Punishment Protocol had been. The thought makes ice pool in his chest.

What had he done to deserve a punishment from the System?

The hand tightens, the bones in his wrist creaking ominously at the strength of the hold.

The look in Binghe’s eyes hurts far more, though. Shen Qingqiu doesn’t even notice the tears in his eyes until they’re spilling over, until his voice comes out as a broken warble.

“Years,”He whispers at last, aware he’s hammering the final nail into his coffin.

It’s only as his arm is yanked away, as muscle and sinew tears with a sickening squelch, that it occurs to him. The punishment protocol had worked by sharing his dreamscape with the original Bingge. It hadn’t summoned nightmares out of no where.

This wasn’t Bingge. He’d known it on sight. Had recognized it in the curlier hair, the taller build.

This wasn’t Bingge. This was his husband.

And this wasn’t a dream.

XXX

Binghe watches as the pathetic worm scrambles away from him, gasping and hiccuping through his tears. His remaining arm shakes against the jagged edge of his stump, trying to stem the flow of blood. It won’t do a damn thing. This is a dream world, and that form is just a representation of his soul.

“I’m sorry,”It begs, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Binghe forgive me- “

“Do not call me that,” He hisses. This parasite had squirmed its way in, had settled in and gotten comfortable in its place as his husband, but that spot would only ever belong to his Shizun, his rightful Shizun. Everything else… everything else had been a lie!

“No!,”The imposter gasped. Had Binghe spoken out loud? “No, it wasn’t! I really- I really tried to be honest, I- I-“

It gulped, face pale and wan, tears spilling over its cheeks. Its voice dropped to a whimper.

“I loved you. I thought you loved me too.”

Luo Binghe let out a harsh laugh. So that was the plan? Replace his husband and try and make him grow attached? Try to squirm into his heart, when it was already spoken for?

“I could never love a pathetic fake!,”He snarled. “I’ve been planning your death from the moment I learned!”

The imposter sucked in a sharp breath. They stopped scrambling away, simply sitting before him, shaking and curled into themselves.

It didn’t try to run again as he stepped forward. Not even as he grabbed its leg and tore it from its body. It screamed, and thrashed, but made no effort to pull itself away again.

Instead, the insolent wretch began muttering under his breath, a plea and a prayer in one. Begging for forgiveness, for the dream to end, for Binghe to wake him up. Pathetic. Had the imposter really fallen in love with him over the course of its tenure?

He dug his claws into the stump at its shoulder to stop it. The muttering broke into muffled cries, biting their lip as they struggled to hold them back. A habit he recognized from his husband. Disgusting, he thought, holding to the illusion for pity until the very last second.

“You’re just a cowardly weakling, leeching off of Shen Qingqiu. You fell in love with me? Then know this in your heart.”

Binghe dug his fingers in harder, harder, until his claws scrapped against the shattered bone of the socket and dug in. The parasite’s eyes nearly rolled back into its head as it jerked. Binghe lifted it off the ground by the bone, then held still until the worm caught its breath.

“I could never love the man before me. I would never have even looked at you twice had I known.”

Binghe expands his awareness to the dream world around him. From a greater distance, the soul of the imposter is more like a small flickering flame, a little glow between his hands, than a man.

It takes almost no effort at all, to close his fist around it and smother the flame.

XXX

Binghe wakes up in the morning, ecstatic to finally be done with this journey and desperate for love from his husband who he’s apparently not seen in years.

Shen Qingqiu doesn’t wake up with him.

Shen Qingqiu doesn’t wake up at all.

XXX

Anyway now that I’ve officially written a short version of it I want y’all to know that Shang Qinghua would be the one to tell him, after rushing over when he gets an alert that the account of User 002 was deactivated.

Binghe gets to metaphorically self-destruct, realizing everything he said and did was to his own husband and not an assumed imposter. The world shapes itself to Binghe’s wishes, and he still has access to the holy mausoleum, so he manages to bring back Shen Qingqiu. I debated having him bring back Shen Jiu instead but I love the protagonist of any book I read, and that includes Shen Yuan, so instead he brings back his husband whose heartbroken and runs off, with a new level of instinctive terror to go along with it. Binghe really does try to give him room, but that does neither of them good because Binghe drowns in his guilt and the confirmation of his husband’s fear, and Shen Yuan drowns in his heartbreak and confirmation of his husband’s rejection.

The happy ending comes after a slowburn of binghe groveling and breaking himself down(a la Lost and Found in Limitless Clarity) with a side of both being left with new insecurities to add to the existing ones post-canon.

(And if Binghe now dreams of the delicate flicker of a soul between his hands, now jolts awake to the reminder of how small it was, how easy to smother, well-

-it’s the least he deserves, isn’t it?)

#I really did mean to only type a synopsis #but it got away from me lol #at least it’s out now #considering cleaning it up and posting to AO3 #svsss #scum villain self saving system #scum villain #bingyuan #Bingqiu #luo binghe #Shen yuan #Shen Qingqiu #mxtx #writing #edit: #Tw torture #can’t believe I forgot that lol

[sk-lumen]

The secret to becoming magnetic is showing the universe what the focus should be about: you. When you love spending time with yourself and investing in yourself, others will be magnetized to treat you the same way.

#personal development #glow up #level up #growth mindset #pink pilates princess #it girl #that girl #becoming that girl #self confidence #self improvement #clean girl #green juice girl #magnetism #writings

[ladyofthenoodle]

marinette finally works up the courage to tell adrien the truth about his father and he’s just like “i know” and rips off his jacket to reveal the peacock miraculous

#marinette coming clean about gabe is the new marinette confessing her love #i hope she writes him a letter about it and mixes it up again and some rando gets akumatized because they think their dad was hawkmoth #meanwhile adrien thinks marinette really wants him to make her this recipe for clam chowder and spends the day searching for fresh clams #why did i put this in the tags it’s funnier than my actual post #ah well too late now #miraculous ladybug #ml recreation #noodling