#it was very stressful. anyways this is why I need someone to just do the squishing. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

apomaro-mellow · 2 days

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This was such a cute mermay idea I had to do it

Nancy watched as they took the first mer out of the tank, nicknamed 'Billy'. His tail was a deep blue but she knew better than to attach too much connection between the coloration of the tail and their personality. He was anything but calm and soothing. If anything, she would call him a brute, but it was hard to even say that regarding an animal.

Sometimes fish could be aggressive. And clearly putting two males in one tank had amped up that aggression. Poor Steve had yet to leave his cave after Billy's last attack. They'd need a diver to help coax him out and tend to his wounds.

It takes a couple of weeks for him to recover and in that time, the team brings in a new mer, another male. Robin was vehemently against putting him in the same tank as Steve.

"He just got over what happened with Billy. What're you gonna do if this one tries to fight him again?"

"Steve isn't totally helpless", Nancy said, remembering the wounds inflicted on Billy as well. "Besides, we need to figure out if it really is just instinctual, territorial stuff or if there's something else going on."

And so the second male was put into the same tank as Steve's. At first, he was appropriately cautious, as was the other mer. They both kept to opposite sides of the tank. Then Robin began to notice some odd behaviors in them.

The new one, dubbed 'Eddie' by his wrangler Wayne, would sometimes poke and prod at Steve. He would do so and then immediately swim away, like he was bold but shy at the same time. Steve didn't lash out the way he had with Billy, so perhaps it was some form of play? It was times like these that she wished they knew more about these creatures.

Then Steve did more than just not lash out. He appeared to be playing along. Steve had never engaged in play. Honestly, to Robin he seemed a little haughty, like a prima donna of a fish. The gossamer frills of his tail, almost like a betta fish, gave him that look of someone above it all. But when he played with Eddie, he looked, well, goofy.

But he seemed happy. Healthy even.

Then, one day, while passing by on her lunch break, Robin noticed something she had never seen Steve do before. Eddie floated nearby while Steve swam in an alluring display, his tail undulating in a way that made Robin feel like she shouldn't be watching. So she didn't stay for long. There were always cameras on the tanks just in case something happened while no one was around anyway.

But she brought it up to Nancy immediately. Because if her suspicions were correct...

"It looked like a mating dance to me, Nance."

"Don't be silly, they're both males. And if that was possible, then why didn't Steve perform for Billy?"

"Uhh, he kept biting and clawing at him? Not very romantic. And let's not pretend homosexuality is a purely human invention", Robin pointed out.

Nancy was still skeptical. "Well, even if they are engaging in courtship, the fact remains that they can't reproduce together."

Unexpected babies could complicate things in the tank when they knew so little about mers to begin with. How did they even raise their young? It was the kind of question they'd learn the answer to sooner rather than later.

A few days after Robin took notice of the supposed mating rituals, a diver noticed that Steve's belly appeared to be a bit more full. They tried to get closer to inspect but in his first act of aggression, Eddie pounced with the intention to bite their head off. Thankfully, they were fully covered and got away with just a chunk taken from their goggles. Unable to inspect up close, the research team chalked it up gaining weight. It could either be from preparing for winter or having less stress to effect his appetite.

About a week after that, during a routine clean up, Nancy saw that the moment a diver went into the water, Eddie stood sentry at the cave and Steve was nowhere to be seen, presumably inside. Not wanting to agitate him, they waited until he was asleep to send a camera down. Through its night vision lens, they saw the two adult mer and what appeared to be a clutch of about five eggs, the size of grapefuit settled between them.

When the evidence came back, Nancy pointedly kept her gaze from Robin's 'I told you so' face.

"Don't look so smug unless you can tell me how this happened", Nancy said.

Robin shrugged. "I have theories."

It took about three weeks for the eggs to hatch, after doubling in size. The team kept their distance as Eddie's territorial streak rivaled Billy's when his mate was in a vulnerable state. But they checked in whenever they could. Only two of the eggs grew to full term and hatched, the other three deflating not long after being laid.

Nancy chalked it up to it likely being Steve's first mating and having come from a stressful situation. She was proven correct when a year later, he laid again, six this time, and they all made it to full term. She and Robin watched as Eddie and Steve floated together, tails in a twist and holding hands, letting the current carry them as their eight children chased each other around.

Robin nudged her partner. "We're gonna need a bigger tank."

#kinda wanna write steve/eddie pov too #apo writes #stranger things #steddie #mermay #mpreg #robin buckley #nancy wheeler

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i-yap · 2 days

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Hello here another request from Dick Grayson. I hope you are well and that you are not putting pressure on yourself with these requests, sleep well.

Could you write something about Dick's Girlfriend who is an artist 🎨 she went to university and graduated with a degree in Literature or something like that she is like an artistic soul she writes, plays the piano, paints maybe she knows a little about ballet [she is just as flexible than Dick] and speaks several languages. Maybe Dick convinced her not to "work" [on a schedule for someone else] so they could spend more time together and so she wouldn't fill her little head with things like forced labor or bills. He covers all expenses and more. He spoils us too much. ...it also makes it so that you focus only on your art out of passion, writing, painting, playing music, learning to play the guitar 🎸 just because you want to and have the time.

and on the nights when he has patrol you go out with your friends "Sex And The City" style.

You also learn to cook in the huge kitchen of their shared apartment and he tries everything you make, he also cooks for you (sometimes) you also do a Skincare routine for him and he loves to smell just like us.

Dick Grayson x artist!y/n

man has money, I can see bruce paying all his vigilante children and he got alfred's billion plus man is the best detective at the pd .

So how could you expect him to not feel sorry for his -pretty but stressed overworked surrounded by idiots who don't know art having to commercialize herself and loosing her sense of style and art because of the nonsense requests of her bosses -gf. Your pain is his pain after all.

You know you are very creative I mean- your ballet could give grayson a run for his money. You have always been talented, drawn to the creative arts. But here you are stuck being a designer for a corporate job. AND IT SUCKS BALLS.

The boss keeps asking you to design templates and after designing 3 boring asf template she's like yea that fine now just do content. But even the content cant be fun or innovative. It has to be corporate and easily consumable and its just so dumb like let ai do it and why even hire you if she wants you to do the labor that is just ctrl c ctrl v LIKE FUCKK

And your creativity is dyinggg. you cant remember the last time you picked up a paintbrush and you loved art. Now you're loosing a sense of self and you don't even know if any of this is worth it. WHY NOT BE A BARISTA?? AND DO ART ON THE SIDE...CUZ OF THIS FUCKING ECONOMY. ONLY THE RICH CAN BE ARTISTS ONLY THE RICH AHHHH

(sorry this turned into a little self vent ahem ahem)

anyways dick sees your talent and he sees your pain and...he wont take no for an answer.

So here you are, live in girlfriend , but he calls you an investment whenever you feel down because dick is paying for both of you.

So other than art, you make him food. And he makes you food too dw girlie but you do it out of passion of trying out new recipes .

You go out and teach students dance at underfunded public schools and perform without contracts...just for the love of performing or focus on writing a book.

You spend the day focusing on your passions and build up your skill, having a loving supportive boyfriend.

Dick is really busy with detective work then as Nightwing so you spend the alone time focusing on your work rather than being distracted by your pretty boyfriend...that too actually.

And with this amazing man by your side, you have plenty motivation.

SO when you do become a hit, No one is prouder than Mr grayson here who believed in his girl all along.

and If you don't? you can always start a small art school, language school or ballet school. There is no lack of talents

And with such a talented gf , dick has the perfect trophy wife who he loves very very much. You are the talk of every gala, you accompany him on business meets (language skills and art is universally needed) and honestly dick couldn't ask for more!

In modern society its now believed that the only way to get self respect is to be a working woman. Why cant we stop telling woman to be something? Staying at home, raising or not raising kids, focusing on your passion and loving your husband ( future husband too) is just as acceptable as going to work( if you can find a man like dick ofc). you do work hard, you did have a degree or not depending on your circumstances and you are genuinely working towards your goals. And dick comforts you in it. He sees your passion he sees your talent and more than that he loves you so no matter what, he's supporting you through this journey.

I am actually writing a batboys skincare thing which ill post over the weekend. Im sorry this turned into a personal rant. Im working two jobs and studying 3 courses while preparing to start university..so this hit a little close to home . What I would do to have a dick grayson just marry me and let me focus on my passion rather than juggling various stuff. This blog is maybe the only thing I do for myself..which is sad cuz I had a lot of hobbies. Anyways ...hope this didn't suck too much.

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lotusarchon · 23 hours

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hey hey, i would like to ask a question out of curiosity (and im sorry if i sound offensive; im not skilled in the department of wording and communication) the 'mischaracterization' thing; would u tell me more of why u dislike it very much, and give examples of it for better understanding?

Nah dude it's fine, I don't find you offensive one bit. I am surprised with the question but I'll try to word myself as much as I possibly can.

Also, full disclaimer; I am a fanfic writer, and I understand wanting to give a character more/a better personality and backstory, to give more room what the show writers didn't do. I do the same as well; my famous example is Sakura Haruno and giving her more personality than just a girl obsessed with boys. So, I'm aware people may try to give a character better personalities for whatever reason.

BUT.

There's a limit to how much I can take with it, and the LMK fandom really do take it too far. I'm in a bunch of fandoms, and I'm using Jujutsu Kaisen as an example with how writers tend to write Sukuna especially for shipping with OCs/Readers. Do you wanna know why I'm okay with it though, in JJK?

Because they at least know their fave is horrible. I'm not saying the fandom is good, but at least the few I've read from do in fact get the characters right and don't stereotype them, and if they do, they KNOW their faves are pieces of shits. They just don't care and anyways, it's a fanfic. They aren't gonna go bash people for disagreeing with them (from my experience. And if the JJK fandom has it, idc still, they're better than most of y'all here)

In LMK, it's so, so bad. The mischaracterization doesn't just stay as that. It's become the literal fanon vs canon thing because that's what the fans do. In every fanfic, fanart, ANYTHING related to the characters in the fandom, they stereotype and dumb down every single fucking one. I used to read fics and I've had to stop because of how disgusted I am. It's literally just "they would NOT be like that", but ah, god forbid you try to tell that to this fandom, because if you try you're a proshipper, homophobe/transphobe or racist.

I have a good few examples too, but my most popular ones are;

Fanon Wukong: A bad guy that abandoned MK, abused his 'best friend', just a sexy, hot monkey with grr possessive alpha traits. And, oh yeah! He's so stupid, he can't even read because he's just a big guy with ex issues and nothing else.

Fanon Macaque: A victim who was only trying to get his best/boy friend back. He definitely loves MK as a kid and is a better parent than Wukong. Ignore the fact he never once took blame for the trauma he put MK through as well, he's a victim and a little baby/daddy who just wants love. He's completely misunderstood guys.

Fanon MK: Personality? What personality? He's Red Son's and/or Mei little boyfriend who is just a baby obsessed with fucking and can't think of anything else. He's traumatized so, so badly and is just a poor little baby who's only source of comfort is Macaque because Macaque understands him more, definitely. He's dumb or maybe too smart for his own good but that's okay, there's always someone else to help him.

Fanon Tripitaka: An abusive cunt. Need I say more?

Fanon Nezha: Oh dear, guys he's just a grumpy baby guys, he's a grumpy lil baby, definitely not an adult stressed and exhausted, nah. He's a baby.

See where I'm getting at? Nine times out of ten you check a fanfic in this fandom regardless of the pairing or the plot, these are the kind of traits you see in these characters. There's nothing else but them dumbed down to being morons.

Nevermind that Sun Wukong is actually smart and most definitely has trouble reading modern writing, nevermind that Macaque has never owned up to his actions even when he played a part in hurting MK, nevermind that MK isn't just some sex obsessed baby and has problems and is a grown ass adult who needs therapy, nevermind that Tripitaka of all people only dared used the circlet because Wukong was hard to handle, NEVERMIND that Nezha, a centuries old god with different tales around him isn't someone who's just grumpy much less a child and has problems of his own.

Fans just simply won't look past anything but the fanon version of them. You try to explain that Macaque was a bad guy and redemption arc feels rushed and you're a bad person, or who cares he's hot right? You try to explain that Wukong isn't some illiterate asshole and is trying his best to adapt and be there for MK, because you're just a Macaque hater and also who cares, right? He's sexy and he can fuck Macaque, so who cares for personality, right?

Don't get me wrong. I'm used to this shit because again, look at Jujutsu Kaisen. But my god the LMK fans are so fucking annoyed and obsessed, they refuse to even see that these characters are more than just a single personality trait.

And that's just dealing with canon characters alone, don't get me started on how they react to ocs smh.

The LMK fandom is bad, bad. Nuclear level bad, even. It's a toxic wasteland of morons who have never really understood media literacy and instead simply cares for the appearances of how characters look rather than focusing on what makes them who they are.

But again, what good does it even do to complain right? I'm just some guy on the internet completely irked by the lack of braincells this fandom has. The most I can actively do is block the tags related to this fandom and focus on me. If I need fanfics, I'll write my own, that's all.

But, i will say, if there's a day this fandom actually sees characters as more than sex appeal, it's the day I suck a dick. Pardon my language but that's legit the only way I can phrase it as an aroace person. Y'all are so hazardous you make the 2020 MHA fandom look sooooo much better.

It's not a compliment. Be better. You're fans of a children based show, and coming from an author who writes mainly NSFW stuff for LMK on AO3, it's disappointing.

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moregraceful · 25 days

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Whenever I feel my age in hockey fandom, I remind myself firmly: no matter what, Marc-Édouard Vlasic will always be older than you. Pictures - 1) Kitty Cat Max on patrol; 2) Magnus Chrona (6'5) standing next to a U6 goalie at the anthem; 3) full moon at night.

#having a vaguely discomfiting week #uhhh i don't know. too much and not enough to do. mostly not enough #i've been applying to some deeply hilarious silicon valley jobs #one i was editing my cover letter for and thought man. i could do this with the irc for way less money with way more stress #(international rescue committee i mean)#and then i went for it anyway. i would be good at it! i've just seen the exact same job description for charities working with refugees #the bay area is so interesting. i'm always like i love it! it's home! but how much of that is only having left it for college #but then i think about starting a new life somewhere else alone and i'm like god that sounds exhausting #lost control of my schedule again btw. forgot i had about 800 things on the calendar #i actually forgot i had therapy for four weeks straight in the last two months it's been such a mess #which i think is what happens when i have no external schedule #again i do not dream of capitalism. but i do dream of someone else giving me tasks with a set number of hours attached #if an anarachist commune told me my job was to snap the ends of string beans off for four hours i'd be like hell yeah. 4 hour task #why snapping the ends off of string beans SUCH a social activity btw #that was like THE kitchen task my mother would trust me and my sister to do on major holidays and so i have such weird fond memories of #sitting at the table snapping the ends off of string beans and talking with my sister while our family buzzed around us #i mean a lot of my core child and teenage memories are my sister and i hanging out while our parents marriage fell apart around lmfao #where was i going with this. oh right. need a job mostly bc i am going stir crazy but also bc i started private ice skating lesson which are #expensive. definitely going to help!! but expensive #but idk i am haunted and beset by living with my parents in my 30s so more reasons (practice) to get out of rhe houae #*out of the house while mostly unemployed...the better #the story of this post can be boiled down to a couple of things i think: 1. no hoes. 2. no job. 3. if i keep making these posts i have to #take more pictures of things #(<- very live in the moment kind of guy who forgets things later bc they didn't take pictures)#fresno oilers.txt

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calamitydaze · 2 months

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long tag ramble below u have been warned

#ok i feel like i should say Something before i start being active again #but i dont want it to be a Statement which is why i’m putting it in the tags #(also bc i procrastinated doing this for weeks so i know this is a very stale topic by now #but i also haven’t been on tumblr literally at all so this is 100% my organic authentic opinion lmao)#so read if you gaf and ignore if you don’t #anyway: george def could’ve done more to ensure she was comfortable #and as someone who has also gotten in over my head with older men and regretted it #her hurt is valid and i’m deeply sorry she feels the way she does about that night #but with that said i see no reason to believe george Should have known how she really felt #or that he deliberately took advantage of either her youth/inexperience or her discomfort #and that’s the most important thing for me— he fucked up and misread a situation but that doesn’t make him an evil person #and i hope they can both move on and grow and heal #as for my future in the fandom: i honestly dunno how active i’ll be going forward #i was already becoming pretty disconnected so this might’ve just sped up the process? i’m tired of being put through the wringer #but i also don’t really have a fandom to replace this so i might just continue casually participating in the way i have been #either way rest assured i will never become a rabid anti. that shits embarrassing #i got HORRIBLE drolo rsd the other day when tommy’s mom needed clout and vagued him so like if nothing else. droloisms are forever #also as a last thing— this feels kinda silly and self centered to say but i will anyway #sorry for not opening up my blog as a forum for discussion again the way i did with the drituation #i know i helped a lot of people sort out their feelings and that was (and is) really really important to me #but it also tanked my mental health (mostly as a result of the fallout and not the act itself but still)#plus my life irl was pretty stressful at the time when everything was first going down #so i just didn’t feel up to putting myself through that again #but i’m sorry if anyone wanted to discuss w me but wasn’t able to #anyway. i think that’s all i have to say!#i don’t want to turn this into a capital D discussion but as always my askbox and dms are open #love you all tons! i hope you’re having a good day 🫂🫶#bella talks

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colorstormx · 6 months

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I know I haven't really talked about my sticky note project that much here, but. by god. at the end of the year, when it's finally finished... I'm gonna be fucking insufferable for a bit most likely

(for the uninitiated: I've got a project going where the premise is pretty much just "I draw my fursona on a sticky note, once a day every day for a year." 3"x3" square, any tools and mediums are fair game as long as the note remains flat enough to go in the storage book.

which, for that matter, I need to finish getting the supplies together to make my storage book instead of just leaving them stuck inside a sketchbook for eternity... I've already got the cardstock and a design down, I just need to order acetate sheets, chipboard for the covers, and more double sided tape. as it goes, I guess.)

anyway my main point here is that there is A Lot of Storm content waiting in the wings and I'm gonna be ready to yell about it. still trying to decide how I'm gonna release that many images though - I've got half a mind to do them day by day and just let them run through next year, and just have the option to see them all at once be some sort of kofi support bonus or something. (which would require me to get my kofi off the ground. I really should figure out how to set it up already.) I'm open to other suggestions on how to present them though, depending on what people want to see

#this was supposed to be a more low effort project to keep in the background and make sure I drew at least once a day...#but uh. some of these definitely received more effort than others #I'm excited to put together a compilation of my personal favorites from it #I'm also very much open to doing sticky note commissions on a pwyw basis. I need to update my pinned post about that #I really just need to update everything goddamn. why is that so hard #why can't I just draw things and leave the posting and pricing business to someone else. most stressful part of the process by far #bluh. anyway yeaaaaaa #less than 30 notes to go now...#the snowjag speaks

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ronanlynchbf · 10 months

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hell day today and i'm only two hours into my EIGHT HOUR SHIFT

#9 to 5 by dolly parton starts playing in the background..#literally had to open up shop alone 2day and also was entirely alone for the first 45 min. of my shift so that was already a negative start #to the day + i heard that i can't have my break later than two thirty which is very bad for me bc 1) there'll be a lot of ppl all around me #when i'm eating which i already dislike and 2) like 85% of ppl taking their break around that time are VERY noisy eaters so even worse and #then 3) it'll be really loud in the room as well bc everyone's talking loudly and eating and the cutlery's clanging against plates and such #and also some ppl have actual full-blown arguments with each other in the break room bc half the ppl here hate each other's guts so more #negatives to the day and then on top of that we've had sooooo many annoying customers already today who r just. intent on making u stressed #out and upset and literally will tell u to your face to 'do your job better' like bro...i can easily tell you haven't worked in retail....#also someone hung their clothes on the rack outside the fitting rooms which is where u hang ur clothes when you're DONE fitting them & don'#want them bc they don't fit or don't sit right or u just don't rlly like them after all so if clothes are hanging there we the ppl working #there WILL take them and hang them back in their original places what did u expect to happen?? anyway someone hung the clothes they had #tried on already and did want there and i reached out to take them bc like. that's what we do here..we hang the clothes on the 'discard #rack' back in the store bc else the rack gets stuffed and the woman literally grabbed my arm and said 'those are mine what do u think you'r #doing' LIKE?????? GIRL THE RACK'S THERE FOR A REASONNNN ofc i'm going to assume u don't want them anymore if they're hanging there that's #why it's called the DISCARD rack....also how am i to know those specific clothes are yours HONESTLYYYYYY STFU AND GET OFF ME #ALSO some dude was like (to his child but like. looking at me while he said it.) 'this guy needs a haircut doesn't he' bc my hair is kinda #long and apparently i passed today. LIKE 1st of all kind of a rude thing to say to a stranger innit 2nd of all setting a great example to #your child there just casually commenting on other ppl's looks like that👍 3rd of all jokes on you you wouldn't consider me a guy if #you Knew most likely. thanks for that little zing of glee much obliged <3 but also man just piss off will you. 4th of all my hair isn't eve #that long....like the ends of it are just shy of my shoulders wdym LONG if u knew the long-haired guys i know you'd faint.#anyway. great start of the day. i still have six more hours to go 🥴#ALSO no surprise this always happens but my legs already hurt SOOOOOOOO BADDDDDD :(((((((((((#r.txt

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megroha · 4 days

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tired tired

#ok venting for a moment #everything is so much all the time and i'm always saying this #right now everything is far far too much i think #and it always has been but i've gotten good at ignoring it #it only takes One negative external force to break the facade and make me remember how bad it all is #i really do try #but its always someone or something else that brings me back down here #i really try #anyways i won't be able to get my meds for a while due to stock problems and i do not feel good about this #really not at all #just waiting for the situation in my household to snap also because there's only so long i can effectively ignore the people i live with #even if i was able to form the words to talk about things. they are not typically able to listen or understand in any way #i do not know what is going to happen #but its like i've been stuck in a very slow and subtle state of panic for around 2 days now and my chest hurts and my bones hurt #i dont feel good hehe #if a particularly intense and productive hyperfixation could hit rn that would be great. please #but i am going to be braindead for a while without my meds so thats a big hope!#i just need some time and some peace and to be left alone in my space #i probably need the events and issues causing me stress to resolve but i don't see how they will!#and i just feel its not my job since i'm not the one causing them!#now i think i just need to remember and hold onto how this has hurt me and why i'm allowed to feel hurt #i'm allowed to be bitter about it because i was deceived and betrayed and lied to #i am really trying

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confinesofmy · 8 months

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i should literally be in the club. wtf.

#adam talks too much #bad things will happen and then i'll vent to someone and they'll be like damn. anyway earlier i was wanting to tell you about how he #and that's all they have to say and i don't understand why #but i do understand why. they don't care much for me outside of the support that i give them. 😶#that's very obvious. that's what that means #and i can keep repackaging it as oh well it means i'm not properly communicating what i need #or oh it means they're having difficulty connecting with me bc i'm aut*stic #or maybe oh they're too stressed to take on anymore #girl!! they just fucking suck lmao!!#stupid ass #quit gaslighting yourself

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honeyednights · 9 months

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:))

#my bil just texted me and asked if i could make some teddy bears that i made last christmas #like if he could order them from me and i was like sure!#but then he also was like how much should i pay you for them and i'm just like????????? i have no clue how to equate monetary value to #the time i spend on making it (or i do but like ..... that feels like way too much money to ask for for me making something y'know?)#and so i just said a really low number like enough for 3-4 coffees #and like it's sooooo weird like the whole thing bc he's been talking about how i should monetise on making them since he saw the first one #made but it also just kinda makes me a bit uncomfy which it doesn't really make sense why i'm like this!!!#but it also kinda freaks me out that he wants to buy them from me bc now i feel like i need to make them absolutely perfect and just aaaaah #this is very stressful idk how people who sell the stuff they make do it #tho obvi it's different from like a stranger wanting to buy it this is like someone who's family #but yeah i'm all 🥴🥴🥴 abt it but it's too late to take anything back now! i do enjoy making them tho but yeah.. my perfectionistic side is #just like.... are u sure ur skills are good enough to get paid for this? :///#anyways i'll stop panicking abt all this once i give them to him and he says they're good or cute or something like that

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louisa-gc · 27 days

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how to start reading again

from someone who was a voracious reader until high school and is now getting back into it in her twenties.

start with an old favourite. even though it felt a little silly, i re-read the harry potter series one christmas and it wiped away my worry that i wasn't capable of reading anymore. they are long books, but i was still able to get completely immersed and to read just as fast as i had years and years ago.

don't be afraid of "easier" books. before high school i was reading the french existentialists, but when getting back into reading, i picked up lucinda riley and sally rooney. not my favourite authors by far, but easier to read while not being totally terrible. i needed to remind myself that only choosing classics would not make me a better or smarter person. if a book requires a slower pace of reading to be understood, it's easier to just drop it, which is exactly what i wanted to avoid at first.

go for essays and short stories. no need to explain this one: the shorter the whole, the less daunting it is. i definitely avoided all books over 350 pages at first and stuck to essay collections until i suddenly devoured donna tartt's goldfinch.

remember it's okay not to finish. i was one of those people who finished every book they started, but not anymore! if i pick up a book at the library and after a few chapters realise i'd rather not read it, i just return it. (another good reason to use your local library! no money spent on books you might end up disliking.)

analyse — or don't. some people enjoy reading more when they take notes or really stop to think about the contents. for me, at first, it was more important to build the habit of reading, and the thought of analysing what i read felt daunting. once i let go of that expectation, i realised i naturally analyse and process what i read anyway.

read when you would usually use your phone. just as i did when i was a child, i try to read when eating, in the bathroom, on public transport, right before sleeping. i even read when i walk, because that's normally a time i stare at my screen anyway. those few pages you read when you brush your teeth and wait for a friend very quickly stack up.

finish the chapter. if you have time, try to finish the part you're reading before closing the book. usually i find i actually don't want to stop reading once i get to the end of a chapter — and if i do, it feels like a good place to pick up again later.

try different languages. i was quickly approaching a reading slump towards the end of my exchange year, until i realised i had only had access to books in english and that, despite my fluency, i was tired of the language. so as soon as i got back home i started picking up books in my native tongue, which made reading feel much easier and more fun again! after some nine months, i'm starting to read in english again without it feeling like a huge task.

forget what's popular. i thought social media would be a fun way to find interesting books to read, but i quickly grew frustrated after hating every single book i picked up on some influencer's recommendation. it's certainly more time-consuming to find new books on your own, but this way i don't despise every novel i pick up.

remember it isn't about quantity. the online book community's endless posts about reading 150 books each year or 6 books in a single day easily make us feel like we're slow, bad readers, but here's the thing: it does not matter at all how many books you read or what your reading pace is. we all lead different lives, just be proud of yourself for reading at all!

stop stressing about it. we all know why reading is important, and since the pandemic reading has become an even more popular hobby than it was before (which is wonderful!). however, there's no need to force yourself to be "a reader". pick up a book every now and then and keep reading if you enjoy it, but not reading regularly doesn't make you any less of a good person. i find the pressure to become "a person who reads" or to rediscover my inner bookworm only distances me from the very act of reading.

#louisa-gc #academia #studyblr #aesthetic #book #books #reading #read #advice #help #university #study #uni #library #bibliophile #it girl #that girl #habits #booktok #booktube #bookstagram

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glow-in-the-dark-death · 4 months

Text

A Week (He Will Take You)

Danny moved to Gotham for school, while there he noticed that Gotham's ambient ecto was really murky for lack of a better word.

This didn't really affect him too much besides a mild headache every once in a while but that also just might be stress from all his school work so maybe not.

Anyway

This murky ecto seemed to effect the people who lived there or more importantly the ghosts,

They were visible to the human eye like most ghosts back in Amity but instead of looking very much like a ghost they still looked like humans if a bit off putting.

They all seemed to be continuing their normal lives as if still fully alive, with the people around them none the wiser.

Danny noticed this and began approaching them to figure out what was going on.

Apparently the murky ecto in the city had made it so that they were strong enough to still continue a somewhat normal life but not be able to cross over to the GZ.

In other words they were stuck in Gotham

Danny was the Ghost King so he could easily fix this problem, all he needed to do was give them a bit of pure ecto for around a week to fully stabilize them them then he would just open a portal into the GZ and they could cross over with all their things also transferring into the GZ for their new haunt.

Unfortunately this looked rather worrying to an outsider,

Imagine you're used to your neighbor being very outgoing so you and others see them a lot suddenly this man seems to appear in their life out of nowhere an at exactly one week, your neighbor and all their belongings in their home disappear no trace to be found.

You tell people and they begin saying the same story they knew someone and them a man with black hair and blue eyes appeared in their life, then they and all their things disappear in exactly one week.

Of course the police in Gotham do the bare minimum so they're no help.

But it starts to begin a trend, especially online.

"Oh careful or the blue eyed man will make you disappear in a week"

This of course after time catches the bats attention, Gordon had already given them all the information he had.

"Young adult early twenties, dark hair, blue eyes"

That was it.

The bats look into it and from their point of view Danny is a serial killer.

But they can't find the connection between all of his victims, they range from young children and the elderly from different backgrounds absolutely no connection,

Worrying enough he doesn't just make one person disappear he has taken entire families up to over a dozen, without anyone figuring out how he's doing it or why at all.

The disturbing thing also being that he seems to take everything in their home, leaving it like it has always been empty

Like no one had been living in it.

People have tried to take photos of Danny get some kind of evidence of his existence, but when they try to do it, it either comes out completely corrupted or their devise simply shuts down fully.

Danny of course has no clue what is happening he's just happy that he's able to help so many ghosts, and is trying not to fail his exams.

Danny leaving the house he just helped: "That went easier than I expected!"

Neighbor peeking from the window: "Shit it's that guy! "

Red Hood marching down into the cave: " The fucker took many from my territory without me even realizing it!"

Tim: "I'm pretty sure his kill count is nearing the hundreds and he just started like maybe 4 months ago, this is bad."

Barbara: " I think I got a theory, this matches up with the new school year beginning so maybe their not a Gotham native which narrows down my suspect list."

Bruce: "Hn."

Tim: "Yes thank you B for the insightful commentary"

Danny trying not to fall asleep while on his way to class: "Strange I keep seeing shadows following me, oh well must be the stress!"

Bats who are pretty sure Danny is the killer: "Has he done anything suspicious yet?"

Just an Idea

#dp x dc #danny phantom #dc x dp #dpxdc #batman #danny fenton #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp crossover #prompt fill #story prompt #prompts #writing prompt #dp #ghost #ghosts

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jongseongsnudes · 1 month

Text

kiss me

bff!jake. 1.6k words. suggestive with a bratty you and a horny jake sim. (part two) (part three)

“hey.”

silence.

“jake.”

more silence.

“jake sim!”

“what?” he says nonchalantly back at you, his eyes still plastered on the screen ahead as his fingers continued tapping away at the keyboard, “what is it? i’m playing-”

“can we go to bed... it’s almost 3 in the morning...”

and the silence continues.

you could only sigh at yourself, knowing just how much he loved gaming but you had hoped he would at least spend a bit of time with you tonight. especially after not seeing each other for the past week.

after an entire week of losing sleep and stressing over assignments, you wanted nothing more than to watch your favourite show while eating take out with your bestie. being with him put you weirdly at ease, his random dad jokes comforted you and his embrace put you to sleep faster than anything.

and he knew this!

yet here you were, having sat on his bed for the past 3 hours while he gamed away with the boys. how someone could stay so focused on the screen for 3 hours, you have no idea but you were now too tired to wait anymore.

“yeah- yeah you go sleep first, i still need to back the 02z boys up in this bitch-” he doesn’t bother looking at you as he says so before muttering off, “turn off the lights if you want.”

sigh.

you came here for a good night sleep and you were going to get it. one way or another.

so you come up with a plan, a rather evil plan you know would have a 98% chance of working in your favour.

a punishment more like it but he doesn’t need to know that.

“alright i’m gonna sleep first then,” you get off the bed and slip out of your over sized shirt, leaving on just your booty shorts and a crop top that barely did its job at covering your hardened nipples.

walking over to your best friend’s desk, you slightly lean over his shoulder to grab his can of soda, making sure to rub your chest on him. just a little. and luckily for you, the man was already in a thin singlet himself so the skin to skin contact immediately caught his attention.

if there’s one thing you know about your best friend is that although he’s no longer a 16 year old boy going through puberty, the man was just always horny. a perv.

on so many occasions, you had caught him staring at you a little too inappropriately. sometimes the man was even daring enough to place a hand on your ass whenever you’d cuddle with him in bed.

but never did you complain because it wasn’t like you didn’t secretly enjoy the attention anyway.

jake is hot, everyone knows that but you weren’t going to admit that to him. not with that big head of his.

“sorry. thirsty,” you take a sip from his almost empty can and release a very unnecessary moan, knowing that the man’s attention was now entirely on you, “damn. i’m gonna grab another.”

you don’t miss the sudden tent in his boxers or rather, it was hard to miss the big bulge that was caused by you. you want to laugh so badly, knowing that your plan was already working.

gently squeezing the back of his neck, you then walk out of the room, a smug grin now on your own face. you’re almost 100% sure that he’s watching you walk away, probably confused to why you’re practically naked in his apartment. yeah you’re comfortable with each other but you’ve always had a top on at the very least.

grabbing a can of beer instead, you hop up on the countertop to wait for the ending of your plan to play out. and as expected, the little puppy really does follow you into the kitchen. he doesn’t say anything but his gaze on your exposed skin was enough to tell you what he was thinking.

he likes what he’s seeing and so do you.

you’ve always found him attractive. from the moment you met him in your first year of college until now, jake sim just had to be the literal definition of your perfect type.

but you’ve never dared to cross that line, the thin line between friendship and there after. because not only was he your bestest friend but the man didn’t seem all that interested in you anyway.

“what’s up? i thought you were gaming?” you say so nonchalantly, even tilting your head like you weren’t already expecting this.

“i uh- um-” he seems distracted to say the very least, his eyes unable to detach themselves from your chest, “nothing. i’m done playing.”

mission success.

the familiar smell of his shampoo immediately fills the air as the man invades your space, a scent you’ve come to love. a scent that drove your mind totally insane.

“are you okay though? you seem... out of it?”

“probably just tired,” he inches even closer to you, his body now practically standing in between your spread thighs. his hands reaches out to rest on either sides of you, his face just inches away as he looks into your eyes.

there’s something different in his eyes tonight, compared to how he usually looks at you. they’re dark and dare you say... seemingly hungry for something.

“yeah? you’re not sick are you?” you pretend to be concerned, feeling his forehead but to your surprise, the man was actually burning under your touch, “wait oh my god, you’re burning. are you okay?”

“i’m fine.”

jake’s voice was already usually low but this tone was something else. one that’s causing an immediate damp spot in your panties.

“okay... then should we go to bed? maybe you just need some sleep, jake sim.”

the visible gulp he makes from the way you say his full name further tells you that you’re close. close to your end goal.

“yeah maybe,” his eyes remain on you as his hand inches closer to your thigh, only slightly grazing the side. he looks slightly hesitant, as if testing the waters and you don’t blame him because you’re doing the same.

“want some? i can’t finish it,” you hand him the beer can, in which he takes and in one single gulp, finishes it. you’ve seen him do that so many times before but just something about this time is making you feel so hot.

you wait for him to move away but the man wraps his arms around your waist instead, pulling you flat against him. you gasp at the sudden move and wrap your own arms around his neck to stable yourself, a move you definitely know he appreciated with the way he’s smirking.

“lets get you to bed, beautiful,” his choice of petname gets you more worked up than you already were, your little act on the very brink of collasping. but you’re unsure if this was even acting anymore... because this was definitely not in your plan.

your legs naturally wrap around him as he carries you off the countertop with such ease. it feels so comfortable to be in his arms, like your body was meant for him to hold.

no one says a thing the entire way to the bedroom but it wasn’t needed. the way he’s watching you and the obvious tension that filled the air told you that perhaps your attraction wasn’t exactly one sided.

jake places you down amongst his sheets not long after and hovers over, freely pressing himself onto you. his hands quickly find their spot on your waist, his fingers gripping into your skin as if scared you were going to run away.

“you’re beautiful,” his head dips into the crook of your neck as he says so, his lips so dangerously close to your skin but he doesn’t go any further. as if teasing you, “so, so fucking beautiful.”

“jake...”

“god when you say my name like that- fuck you’re killing me,” he finally looks up at you again, this time going straight in to kiss you. no pause, no hesitation.

it takes a moment for you to realise that jake was actually kissing you, that this was real and not one of the fantasises you always had about him.

it feels like an explosion inside your body, a feeling you have never gotten from kissing anyone else. not even your ex boyfriends.

it feels so right to kiss him though and that fact scared you.

the man moves away only slightly, just enough for you to catch your breath as he places his forehead against yours.

“tell me to stop and i will,” his tone is stern, a tone you don’t hear much from someone like jake, “or i won’t be able to stop myself.”

the grey area was something you’ve always been afraid of, the thought of a ruined friendship always plaguing your brain. yet in this very moment, you know damn well yourself that this was no longer acting, that this wasn’t apart of your stupid game anymore.

but this was real and your next response was the decider of the relationship between you and jake sim.

“kiss me.”

to be continued.

2024 © jongseongsnudes on TUMBLR. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE OR REPOST.

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periprose · 1 year

Text

Arachnid Anxiety

You're Spider-Woman, and you've been tasked with babysitting Mayday. Maybe you have a bit of stress that you need to vent about, and Hobie comes along quite conveniently for that purpose.

Genre: Fluff, reader having anxiety, Hobie giving her advice, very cute, reader is a Jessica Drew variant, perhaps mutual pining if you squint, takes place during the movie but before Miles arrives to the Society, terrible british slang attempts (sorry Hobie :'))

Word Count: 2.4k

Babies are hard to wrangle when they’re crawling up walls.

Of course, Peter B. Parker said that he needs a nap, just this once, and he needs someone to watch over Mayday while he sneaks away into the sleeping pods in the Spider-Society-System. Sometimes he and MJ don’t get sleep for days at a time, so you get it.

But Mayday is so curious, and you find yourself having to pull her prying hands away before she inadvertently tampers with things around Miguel’s labs and causes either a mass outage or a explosion or Miguel’s wrath. You understand why Peter is a little exhausted.

She’s a very cute baby, though, and you can’t help but coo at her as she clambers off the wall into your arms.

“Who’s a good Spidey? Who’s gonna be the best of us?” You shake her up and down and she giggles, wrapping her arms around you.

You instinctively flinch, feeling your Spider-Sense go off.

“Large statement to make. But I see where you’re coming from.” Spider-Punk comes up from behind you, and you turn to him. “She’s definitely punk.”

“Hey, don’t go claiming someone else’s kid as one of your own.” You joke, and Hobie scowls as he pulls off his mask.

“Don’t believe in claims. Or labels, for that matter.” He scratches his hair, looking effortless as he ever does, and you roll your eyes. “She is… who she is. Forgive me for using a descriptive word, Spider-Woman.”

“I get it.” You hold Mayday as she squeals at the sight of Hobie, and she motions in an uppy-uppy motion. She wants to be held by him, but he ignores her.

You never quite know how to feel about Hobie Brown. The Amazing Spider-Punk is revolutionary, known for being better than just his words– he holds himself to the very essence of anarchy. He practices what he preaches.

But you can’t quite get a read on the guy. You don’t know if he’s pulling your leg– or taking the piss as he would say– when he gives his bouts of advice while somehow simply being amazing through it all. He somehow knows what to say but he also isn’t the most comforting, and that in itself makes you drawn to him. He just happens to be kind of rough around the edges, and it’s because of that you know he truly means what he says.

No sugar-coating, ever.

But you hate yourself, because you’ve somehow managed to fall for him.

It’s not uncommon for Spideys to fall for each other. Peter Parker and Cindy Moon, Miles Morales and Gwen Stacy. But you know this is the one time it just wouldn’t end well for you.

You can already hear Hobie’s comments if he ever found out. He’d probably rebuke you even though you’d never try anything. Tell you he doesn’t feel that way and you’re delusional for potentially thinking that he would ever tie himself down. Spiders are meant to be swinging free and all that.

Even worse, he just happens to be beautiful. You’re positive that if Hobie wasn’t so anti-everything he would have stuck with being a runway model. His face is molded in a distinctive way that has you trying to catch his glance, even if he only looks at you with nonchalance, completely unbothered, not a hint of chemistry in his eyes.

It is with great displeasure that you find yourself wanting his bored attention anyways.

And so you’ve been swallowing your crush for the greater part of a year now. You’re sure it will pass like all things do.

Pavitr, as much as you love him, has told you many times about the “chemistry” between you and Hobie– and you have told him every time to fuck off. Not in an actual harsh way, because again you can’t help but love the guy, but because you don’t need false hope.

You’re just Spider-Woman. Another red-and-yellow suited variant of Jessica Drew, you might as well just be another Peter Parker. You know that’s not how you’re supposed to think of yourself, but it’s just how it is. Canon events brought you here, and according to Miguel, it’s not something you chose– you just happened to be there at the right time and place. You’re no Jess, who comes in on her motorcycle, raging heat and excitement on her toes– you are one of the many, instead of being exceptional like the few.

You’re not like Hobie, who is as far as you know, one of a kind.

“What’s on your mind, Spider-Woman?” Hobie asks as he picks through random tech on the desk in Miguel’s lab, taking what he feels is useful for whatever it is he does with the stuff. He’s never used your name, because he doesn’t know it.

You and a few other Spider-People have chosen to stay anonymous, for different reasons, and only Miguel and Margo know who you really are. Hobie has told you before that that’s pretty cool– he only chose to give up his name because it was easier to get along with people that way. Hobie knows there’s power in people.

“Just babysitting. Obviously.” You motion to Mayday, who takes this moment to thwip out a web and swing away from you– but you’re faster and you grab her back into your arms, and she pouts.

“Nah, nah. I mean that sour expression upon your lovely little visage, imbecile.” He pokes your masked cheek, and you find yourself blushing but pulling away from him. Hobie is like that– overly familiar and no real sense of space because he doesn’t care.

“It’s not lovely.” You retort, fully convinced of it because he has never seen your face, only your incredulous expression through the eyes of your mask.

You think that Hobie is again being sarcastic about your unknown appearance, and because his back is facing yours as he searches through random shelves now, you don’t catch how his face frowns at your response.

“Disagreements about your anonymous-but-surely beautiful face aside– not that looks matter, mind you– you’re clearly miffed about something.” Hobie turns and crosses his arms, and it’s with a little embarrassment and comfort that you want his advice. Even if it’s kind of to do with him.

“Well, I guess, uh… lately I’ve just been feeling kind of down. Like what’s the point of all this?” You bite your lip, knowing Hobie’s feelings on nihilism. “I don’t mean like nothing in life matters, Hobie. I mean more that I don’t matt– I don’t… anyways, I feel useless. I don’t have anything special about me, I don’t really bring anything to the Spider-Society that wasn’t already brought.”

"Whoa whoa whoa. Nah, lady, you've got your priorities all twisted." Hobie pulls your arms, bringing you kind of closer to him, and rests his hands on your shoulders, making you listen. "This inner hatred stuff– that sick urge to feel shame and then blast it inside of yourself, all that repression, yeah? It's a crock of shit."

"Huh?" You and Mayday both peer up at him. You behind your mask, and she with her crocheted one.

Hobie picks up Mayday, finally giving into her wishes to be held by him, and she immediately giggles. There’s a subtle smile on his face that warms him to you a little.

"It might feel good in the moment. It might even feel revolutionary." Hobie scowls, and scratches his jaw. "It's worthless. Notice, Spider, I didn't call you worthless. The very action is garbage, a visceral thing that brings no productive value– that's what they want you to feel."

"Ah, because then I'll never fight against the establishment, right, Hobie? I'll be too busy fighting myself." You say mockingly, taking on a fake-pretentious-Cockney accent, mimicking him, but Hobie gives you a chill look and nods.

"Now you're getting it."

"Aw." You slump and slouch and sit on the counter full of gadgets and gizmos next to him. "I know you're right, but… don't you ever get people getting mad at you?"

"You've lost me."

"Like… being so responsible." You roll your eyes as Hobie snickers and whispers the spider-mantra you all know so well. "Or just living by your own ideology so… efficiently. It's almost like a slap in the face to the rest of us Spiders. We don’t know how to cope, and here comes along Spider-Punk with all his personal assurance that even if things aren't alright, he'll make it alright for himself."

"Oi, trust me, it wasn't all that easy." Hobie sniffs and sits down next to you, holding Mayday close and then letting her go as she crawls onto the wall in front of you. "You really think I haven't had a bad day? I haven’t had my moments of self doubt, huh?”

“Uh… well. When you put it like that, it does sound kind of crazy.” You admit, and nudge him with your shoulder. “I didn’t mean any harm, Hobie. I just feel so… inadequate.”

“Just stop.” He crosses his arms and closes his eyes, and you feel that yet again, he’s somewhat unreadable. “Don’t think those things. You’re not inadequate.”

“But I–”

“Stop.” He grasps your hands, and squeezes them tightly in his own, and you wonder if Hobie has ever looked this seriously at you, his eyes soft yet firm with affection.

You’re in trouble, you think. Your heart is pounding and you’re really glad he can’t see your face.

“I don’t think you know how important you are.” He utters so quietly, in that very deep voice that has you leaning in to hear him better. “You’re not nothing, Spider-Woman. You’ve done a lot of good for your Earth-257, I’m sure, and that makes you something special. Like the rest of us– you’re kind of irreplaceable, right?”

“I guess.”

“Not ‘I guess.’” Hobie punches the side of your arm and you pretend to say ow, laughing a little. “If you didn’t exist, we’d all be poorer for it. Peter couldn’t ask you to chill with his baby, and I couldn’t be here talking your ear off.”

“But I’m not– I don’t really compare to her, you know?” You say without thinking, and then immediately squint at your own stupidity.

“Who’s her?” Hobie is wary of how your expression is shifting. “Stacy?”

“Uh, no.” You inhale, exhale, and then decide it’s time to get it over with. “Jess.”

“Jess? Jessica Drew, huh?” Hobie smirks a little. “You don’t want to be adopted by her, do you?”

“More complicated than Gwen’s weird fantasy.” You shift on your spot on the counter, and pull off your mask after a minute of tribulations. “I’m… also Jessica Drew.”

You feel incredibly shy as Hobie takes in your face, wary of his every move as you feel yourself sweating, and he grasps your face gently, peering into your eyes and taking a look at your features, as if he’s really trying to remember them.

“Huh.”

“What is it?” You say a little too defensively, and he shrugs.

“You do have a lovely visage, you silly little sod. Even if it’s completely different from Jess’ face.” He laughs as you shove him away, covering your face in your hands. “No, don’t do that.”

He’s tracing your jaw, and he murmurs. “Maybe you could use a few piercings… a tat or two… ever thought about it?”

“No.” You shut your eyes. “I’m not cool like you.”

“Oh, shut it.” He leans in imperceptibly closer, and you blink, eyes open. Maybe Pavitr had a point that Hobie and you have something, because there’s not really another explanation for that look in his eyes. “You’re plenty cool, Jessica Drew. It was just a shit suggestion of mine.”

You think Hobart “Hobie” Brown is sweeter than you previously thought. You have half a mind to tell him about your feelings.

You and Hobie both look up, Spider-Senses tingling, and sure enough, Mayday is cooing from the ceiling– she leaps into your already waiting arms. She giggles at your expression.

Oh well, you think. There’ll be some other time to work up the courage to tell him.

Hobie half-smirks at her. “Way to interrupt us, Mayday.”

She looks at him all confused, tilting her head in a “huh?” motion, and you feel the same way, not entirely sure what Hobie meant by that and not willing to assume either.

He answers you by pulling your face in a sudden, swift motion, connecting his lips to yours, and in between the two of you, Mayday shrieks and laughs. She crawls off to the side of you, no longer smothered between your torsos.

Hobie is weirdly insistent– you feel like he’s been wanting to do this for a while, maybe longer than the length of your conversation (you don’t know if this is just a funny little fling for him, but you’re fairly sure it isn’t) and he’s a lot taller and lankier than you, so he really has to tower over you to reach your mouth better. He’s grasping your jaw and neck and the back of your head with a lot of intensity– you feel wildly dizzy when he pulls away.

“Uh.” Peter B. Parker is standing in front of you both, mouth wide open, and you look back at Hobie and he grins rather coolly, not really giving a damn. It’s enough to make you snort. “Wait, who are you?”

“Oh. Spider-Woman from Earth 257.” You remember Peter has never seen your face, either. “Jessica Drew?”

“Right, right.” Peter raises his hands in a whoop-de-doo motion, like he should’ve known that. “Nice to know what you look like behind the mask. Not nice to know that you’ve been avoiding your babysitting duties. Why are you two fooling around like prepubescent children? What happened to responsibility?”

“Ahhhhh, please, Peter. Live a little.” Hobie stands up, his full length of height drawing him to about the same height as Peter if not an inch taller. He picks up Mayday and hands her off to him. “Let’s not act as if you and MJ weren’t shacking up in the sleeping pods last week, yeah? Does Miguel need to know about how irresponsible you were?”

You think he’s kidding, but Peter pales and you clap your hands over your mouth, trying not to laugh. Miguel would absolutely throw a fit if he found that out.

“Uh…” Peter swallows. “At least that’s not an interdimensional tragedy-in-the-making like you two.”

“There’s no rules against that, I don’t think.” Hobie shrugs. “And if there are, fuck them. Miguel doesn’t know it all.”

“He really is punk to the very end.” Peter groans and leaves out to the hallway with Mayday.

Hobie flashes a smile at you as he sits back down, ruffling your hair.

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theminecraftbee · 1 month

Text

The moon has fully set over the horizon. The howling over the server has stopped. Four Hermits sit in a circle, staring just slightly away from each other, as to not be caught staring. Joe is miserably trying to wring mud out of his puppet. Stress isn't bothering about the mud at all but is despairing at how shredded her jumper is. Somehow, Zedaph has only lost a shoe, which is more concerning than any of the prior people. Xisuma is deliberately not checking himself. The damning lack of helmet on his head, though, means he can't avoid feeling how he underwent the same terrible transformation as everyone else.

"So," he says, finally.

"I could use pants," Joe says, finally giving up on washing out his puppet, and, ah. Yes. Those are pretty well destroyed, aren't they? Xisuma looks away politely, feeling his face heat up. It heats up more when he realizes everyone can see it, gosh, he's–he's not so sure how he feels about that–

"I think we all need pants. Look at us," Stress says, and if Xisuma can be looking away any harder, he sure is now. Wait, she said 'all', does that include... Oh, oh dear.

"Well I don't know about you, but I still have perfectly serviceable pants," Zedaph says imperiously.

"You know, if anything, that's weirder, given the way we were all giant wolves traipsing around in the night just now. Which is strange itself! However, wolves don't normally wear pants, so really, the fact the only article of clothing you've lost is your shoes is less miraculous and more actively impossible!" Joe responds.

"Well you're actively impossible," mutters Zedaph.

"My god, it was real," Xisuma says.

"Well, I mean, I sort of figured it had to be, what with the four of us being all covered in mud and tired and your helmet being gone and all that," Stress says.

"It was real," Xisuma says.

The four of them sit in silence a little longer. The sun continues its steady march upwards into the sky. It's April; the day is longer than the night, by now, so they aren't wasting but so much time compared to the time the moon was up. The time the moon was up feels a bit more like a dream than anything else, too; distantly, Xisuma wonders if this is what spiders feel like when they become angry during the night, or what drives the undead from the ground. It's a disquieting thought, and he'd literally lived in a skeleton!

"So," Joe says. "So. Which one of us is going to yell at Zedaph for biting us?"

"Rude!" Zedaph says. "Very rude, I'm not the one that bit you! You bit me! Xisuma bit me, actually, you all saw him!"

"What? No, I didn't!" Xisuma says. "Gosh, if I were a werewolf, don't you think you'd know by now?"

"Hm. Suspicious," Zedaph says.

"No?" Xisuma says.

"I mean, I'd try to claim it was my fault, what with being a monster and all, but I'm actually a different sort of beastie normally," Stress says. "Being all doggy is new for me. I should show Iskall. Hey, do you think I should bite Iskall?"

"Yes," Zedaph says.

"No," Xisuma says.

"I'll split the difference and say maybe," Joe says. "Also, since we're arguing about it anyway, I'll say that I think I'd remember if I bit someone, although maybe I wouldn't. It's been a weird night. Maybe I should just go ahead and get everyone apology gifts instead?"

"Please don't," Zedaph says.

"Aww, but I like his gifts," Stress says.

"Honestly, yeah, I was–no, Zedaph is right, it'd be too distracting," Xisuma says, thinking of many of the, er, gifts he's gotten from Joe in the past. "Besides, it's not your fault. But if none of us bit anyone, then why on earth are we all werewolves no–oh no."

"That was ominous?" Joe says.

"Oh. Ohhhhhh," Zedaph says. "Whoops."

"It was supposed to be a joke about investment bankers," Xisuma says.

"Wait, what, do you really think the silly name turned us into werewolves?" Stress says.

"I had other season plans, Xisuma!" Joe says.

"Hey, does that make me a sheep in wolf's clothing that's also a wolf that turns into a sheep that turns into a wolf? If so, neat," Zedaph says.

"Do you know how annoying it will be to get a werewolf puppet?" Joe says.

"Gosh, I absolutely have to bite Iskall now," Stress says.

Xisuma, for a moment, considers putting a stop to it. If it really is the silly name, the collective, the hats and the howls–if it really is the collective weight of story bearing down on all of them–then really, it's still so early that it would be very easy to stop.

Xisuma considers the competition the rest of the shopping district poses, and how easy it will be to move as a collective when they're also a pack.

Also, he hasn't actually been a wolf before. That's one mob he hasn't done!

"You should bite Iskall. I want to know what it does," Xisuma says, deciding that he's quite bored with being responsible and that if someone wants to stop it, it will have to be not him. "But, er, first, in the meantime, do you think he or Doc is better to ask for a helmet that'll grow to fit my muzzle instead of nearly trapping my skull?"

"Hm," Stress says. "Well, Iskall is pretty good at head electronics."

"Yeah, but Doc is a better choice for abominations against nature!" Joe says.

"What about me? I like abominations," Zedaph says.

"It's okay, Zedaph, it's just you don't make many helmets, is all," Xisuma says. "We'll run around being abominations of nature, gosh, most full moons together. Is that good enough?"

"Fine," Zedaph says. "I'm bringing the snacks. I have sheep, and I've always wanted to try cannibalism."

"I guess werewolves wouldn't have to worry about prions," Joe says, nodding.

"Well, if you're going to get Doc, I'm going to go bite Iskall. I know I don't got fangs right now but it'll be very funny either way," Stress says.

"Have fun!" Xisuma says, and even though he's still red, and no one has pants but Zedaph, and he feels vaguely sick without his helmet, he also feels something close to pure delight. Gosh. Werewolves, huh? What a concept, having a little pack. He'll have to make the most of it; they've already seen his face anyway, and not one of them have commented or looked him in the eyes. Clearly, it won't matter so much if Doc takes a while with the helmet.

#hermitcraft #hermitfic #xisuma #joe hills #zedaph #stressmonster101 #a bee fic #me vibrating at high speeds: WOLVES WOLVES WOLVES WOLVES WOLVES #the fact today is hermit-a-day-may xisuma day is coincidence i'm not doing it (although everyone should!)#but i figure it decent timing anyway

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yuwuta · 2 months

Text

JUST KEEP LOVING ME THE WAY I LOVE YOU LOVING ME — SATORU GOJO

pairings. satoru gojo/reader

content, warnings. non-curse au, doctor au (reader), ceo au (satoru), no real content warnings, fluff, satoru is nothing but a romantic at heart

word count. 3k

notes. this exists in the post-completion au of a larger universe/incomplete fic of mine, that i will hopefully finish someday lololol but this is way easier to write than that so here you go 🥳

“There are four chairs worth a collective seventy-five hundred dollars in this office, so, pray, tell, why is your ass on my desk?”

Satoru grins at your words, too distracted by taking in the sight of you to take into consideration the underlying threat. It’s been far too long, almost three whole days since he’s last seen you and, god, you look good. He knows if he said that you’d roll your eyes and insist that there’s nothing good-looking about your worn-in business attire and lab coat that was in desperate need of laundering, but it wouldn’t change his opinion: you always look good, and Satoru really fucking missed you.

Which is why he doesn’t say the words, but makes sure to throw a deceivingly charming wink your way so that you get the message anyway. As expected, you still roll your eyes, but he doesn’t mind; you look good doing that, too.

“Seriously, Satoru, what are you doing here?” you question, closing the door behind you when you fully step into the room. You make pace towards your desk, attempting to get to the other side, but this is exactly why Satoru chose to lean against it instead of sitting on any one of your very expensive and comfortable chairs—because this way, he’s in the perfect position to intercept your path and pull you to fit neatly between his legs before you can even think about reaching your office chair and ignoring him.

He pulls you by the loop of your lab coat, but his hands quickly find their way to your shoulders, unpeeling the white layer just enough so that your blouse is exposed to him, and he can slowly rub his palms against your arms and shoulders with just enough pressure to hopefully release some tension. You won’t let go of all of it, but that’s alright, because Satoru’s got other methods for taking care of you.

“Hi,” he calls, smiling gently down at you, “I missed you.”

This close, Satoru can see the exhaustion clearly in your eyes. There’s more, too: frustration, guilt, worry—and it takes everything in him not to coo and pull you into his chest and do his best to shield you from the world forever.

There’s a beat before you speak, a small sigh, that’s quickly painted over with a tired smile and a remorseful, “I missed you, too. I’m sorry for being so short, the interim chief has been getting on my last nerves, and—”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Satoru cuts in, leaning forward to press a reassuring kiss to your forehead. He likes that he can feel you relax under his touch. “I know you’re busy. I just missed you.”

It’s not easy to share you with anything or anyone, but Satoru knows that even on the hardest days, you love your job, and that so many people need your brilliant mind. What he does mind is when people make your job harder than it needs to be, and he’s been getting an earful about this new interim chief from just about everybody—you, Kento, Yuuji, Ieiri, even some of your favorite scrub nurses have indulged him in the gossip about the newest common enemy—and he doesn’t appreciate that someone is putting extra stress on his baby. So, even if it is a makeshift massage in your office and distracting you from your paperwork, Satoru will do what he can to help you relieve tension.

You reach your arms to wrap them around his shoulders, taking a half step closer to him, peering up at him. Satoru loves when your arms are around his neck like this; he can’t quite pinpoint why—maybe it’s the way you have to crane your neck to look up at him, the way you’re perfectly nestled under his view, the feeling of being wrapped in you. He does his best to close the loop of your intimacy, resting his hands on the small of your back and pulling you impossibly closer and pressing a kiss to your forehead. He likes that he can feel you relax into his touch.

“You’re sweet,” you smile, rubbing your thumb against the shorter hairs at the back of his head. Satoru feels himself melt into you, too. It’s been too long since you’ve been this close, three whole days too long. “Thank you.”

“Nothing to thank me for, baby,” he smiles, stealing a gentle kiss. Satoru loves this the most, loves the feeling of your lips on his—and it’s definitely been too long since he’s kissed you, so he makes sure to do it again, and once more after that for good measure.

But it’s not enough. He’ll have to take you home, sit you on the couch so he can kiss you all night and make up for the lack of kisses and touches and youness he’s been deprived of these past few days. But first, he’ll have to pull you away from your work, and that’s not easy work.

“Come home,” he muses, leaning his forehead against yours, “We can order in, and share your favorite bottle of wine, and watch a movie.”

You lean up to kiss him briefly. “Every time we share a bottle of wine, we end up making out and not watching anything.”

“Do we?” Satoru feigns innocence, “I never noticed. Doesn’t sound like a bad idea, though.”

“Satoru,” you whisper, quiet but firm, with a smile that lets him know you want to, but you can’t. It’s a tone that Satoru knows all too well, and isn’t particularly fond of. “I have charts to finish.”

“Finish them tomorrow,” he steals another kiss, “Or pawn them off on Kento,” another kiss, “Or Yuuji. Residents always need more experience—isn’t that what you and Ieiri always say?”

You let him kiss you again, and again, and again. Each time a little longer, a little warmer, a little less innocent than the last, growing from a little, to a lot, to all-consuming. Satoru hums when he feels your nails raking through his hair; an unfortunate move, as the sound pulls you back to reality and away from him in a decrescendo of kisses.

“You’re really good at that,” you laugh, voice soft.

“At kissing?” Satoru dips his head down to taste your laughter against his lips, “Thanks, I’ve had a lot of practice with a very pretty girl.”

“No,” and you’re laughing again, louder this time, and Satoru counts every little giggle as a victory, “You’re good at... seducing me without saying you’re seducing me.”

“Oh, that?” he grins, tucking his pointer and index finger under your chin to meet you in a knowing kiss, “Yeah, that’s a talent of mine, too.”

You let him steal one more, and Satoru doesn’t take it for granted. “Come home,” he whispers against your lips before slotting them in yet another kiss, “I miss you.”

And he can feel it when you finally break, sighing into the kiss, and melting into his touch completely. One more, he just needs one more kiss to seal the deal, and then—“Fine,” you concede, “But I get to choose where to get dinner from.”

“Of course, sweets, whatever you want,” Satoru grins, pulling back to kiss your forehead again, “Now—shall we? If we order in the car, we can probably pick it up on our way home.”

He’s in the home stretch now, but he’s not completely free: if you catch a glimpse of your work, or someone comes in to find you, or your godforsaken pager beeps then all of his plans could come crumbling down before him. The key to transitioning from the “you’ve agreed to come home with him early stage”—if you can count 9:45pm, coming off of a 17-hour work day as early—to the “we are actually leaving this hospital and nobody can stop us phase” is swiftness. This time period is critical, and Satoru is ready for the sprint.

He shimmies your lab coat all the way off of your body for you, checking for the weight of your pager in your right pocket, before hanging it on the back of your chair. He shoos you to grab your coat, and makes sure you don’t get within three feet of this side of your desk—taking your purse out of your locked drawer and closing an open file folder in the time it takes you to slip out of your heels and into your sneakers, and by the time you’re turning back around, Satoru is already there next to you, with your purse in one hand, and his other hovering on the light switch.

He makes sure you’re out the door first, and flickers off the light with a satisfied grin. His baby was coming home early with him, and there is nothing else he’d rather do than spend time pampering you.

You must truly be more tired than you know, because you make no protest when he slings an arm over your shoulder on your way out of the elevator. Usually, you chastise him for any PDA within hospital walls, but tonight you let it be, even leaning some of your body weight against his as you walk. Satoru’s not complaining at all, maybe he’ll try his luck and sneak a kiss on your cheek.

He decides to go for it, leaning over for a kiss, when you suddenly pull away, turning and patting against your side. Confused, and disappointed, Satoru pouts, “We’ve really got to work on this fear of affection you’ve got going on, sweets. It’s the leading cause of makesatorupout-itis.”

“We’ve been over this—you can’t just add “itis” to the end of your words to make them diagnostic,” you giggle, “I was looking for my keys.”

Satoru’s frown deepens. “You have the fancy reserved doctor parking space, they can’t tow you. So, we can take my car home.”

“No, we cannot, because I do not trust you to wake up and drive me back tomorrow morning.”

“Then I’ll get you a cab in the morning, or—even better, I’ll call Ichiji to pick you up.”

“Ichiji is still in Paris,” you remind him. Satoru purses his lips. He did ask Ichiji to stay with Megumi. Damn it.

“I have other cars, you can drive one of them in the morning.”

“And park it where?”

“In your fancy reserved doctor parking—oh, okay I see the flaw there,” Satoru pulls back. You find amusement in his disappointment, but he doesn’t think there’s anything funny here.

He shakes his head. He should have taken a cab from his office, but this is okay, a minor setback, nothing he can’t think around. “New plan: we take your car, and I’ll come by to get mine tomorrow. Easy peasy.”

“Yours will be towed by then.”

“That’s fine,” Satoru shrugs, “I can afford a tow fee.”

“Satoru,” you call, reaching your free hand up to place your palm against his cheek, “We both drive home. It’ll be thirty minutes, tops. Forty if there’s traffic, but if you stop pouting and we leave now, we should be fine.”

Satoru sighs. He knows that’s the most reasonable plan of action, but the simple truth is that he doesn’t want to be away from you right now, even to go the short distance home. He’s already spent the last few days without you, and even though this is calling it in early for you, he only gets maybe four hours awake with you before you’re off again. Thinking about that makes him miss you again already. Pathetic, maybe, but he doesn’t care.

“Oh, Dr. (_____), hey!” Yuuji’s voice is an easily distinguishable interruption to your petty argument, and Satoru’s sulking, “Perfect timing—I’m glad I caught you before you left. Is it okay if I ask you to sign something before you go?”

You easily warm up to the younger boy and agree, fondly making conversation with Yuuji as he scrolls through some documents on his tablet. And just as you’ve finished scribbling your signature along the screen, Satoru has a bright idea.

“Hey, Yuuji, you can drive right?” Satoru questions rhetorically, already reaching for his wallet and car keys, “Great! Here’s two grand, it’s all yours if you drive this car home tonight.” Satoru smiles widely, shoving his keys and some cash into the pocket of Yuuji’s white coat.

“What—really? Awesome! But, why—”

Satoru dismisses his disbelief with a wave of his hand. He steps a bit closer to Yuuji, just enough to lean into his ear and tuck a couple more bills into his pocket, “And between you and me, that’s an extra three grand if you finish up a couple of charts for my lady so she can sleep in tomorrow. Not a bad deal, right?”

“Sure, no problem!” Yuuji salutes, “I’d do anything for Dr. Almost-Gojo. Plus, if I’m busy working for her, then I don’t have to babysit cells in a dish for Dr. Gakuganji.”

“Atta boy,” Satoru ruffles his hair, “Catch you later, Yuuji, I’ve got a hot date to get to. And tell Nanamin I say hello!”

You elbow Satoru shallowly, a silent warning to keep his voice down, and a verbal chastising of, “It’s Dr. Itadori and Dr. Nanamin to you.”

“More like Dr. Nanameanie,” Satoru laments, resuming the position of his arm around your shoulder, “I’ve left him six calls this week! He’s so cruel—he knows I have to leave next week and he’s depriving me of one on one time. I think I’m gonna have to sneak into his office at lunch tomorrow and confront him.”

Despite his crass words and dramatics, you laugh, and so, Satoru smiles. He finally gets that cheek kiss right as you two reach your car, bending down to plant one for you at the same time he steals your keys from your hand and banishes you to the passenger seat. He’s not much of a driver himself, despite his excess amount of cars, but you’re his baby and you deserve to be driven around no matter the case, but especially when you’ve spent all day taking care of other people.

Plus, on days like this, if he’s real careful and smooth, you fall asleep in the car and he gets to carry you inside. He makes that his goal for the next thirty minutes, and he succeeds in twenty, confirmed by your soft snores just as he pulls into the curbside pick-up spot of your favorite restaurant. He retrieves the take-out as quietly as possible, before making the rest of the journey home, taking the time to glance over at you during red lights.

Satoru loves the way you look when you’re asleep, loves to see you well-rested, but something even more dear to him than that is a fact that Nanami let slip in the aftermath of a dinner party he’d hosted about a year after you two had started dating: “She never sleeps outside of her bed, for as long as I’ve known her,” he muses, nodding to your sleeping figure on Satoru’s couch, “Not even in the on-call rooms during our 72 hour shifts. She must... she must really trust you, Satoru.”

(He also recalls the awfully strong grip on his shoulder and subsequent shovel talk Kento gave him a moment later. Not that Satoru ever had anything but pure intentions with you, but the threat of breaking Kento’s best friend’s heart was more than enough to keep his commitments in check).

Satoru peers at you fondly in his arms, held bridal style with the takeout in the grip of a pinky finger, glancing up only to nod and thank his doorman for pushing the penthouse button for him. Satoru prides himself on many things, but the one thing he always holds in his highest regards is you: call him cocky, but he thinks he’s quite good at caring for you, that there’s nobody else fit to look after you the way that he can; and knowing that you feel safe in his arms is the highest honor he could achieve in this life.

He sets you carefully on the couch once he steps inside the apartment, and places the food on the coffee table. He debates whether or not he should wake you up now; he hates to, but he knows you need to eat, and, selfishly, he wants to cash in on those few hours he has with you to hear your voice.

He’ll dish out the food first, and then wake you up to eat, he decides. He leans down to kiss the crown of your head, eyes flicking to your face, and pausing at your neck, where your engagement ring rests crookedly against your skin. You must have had an emergency surgery today, he thinks; your schedule for today was originally just to round on post-op patients and attend some meetings, but you knot the ring into your chain when you have to scrub into the operating room.

Carefully, Satoru reaches to undo it from the chain, and slips it back onto your ring finger. It looks pretty against your skin when it’s around your neck, but personally, he thinks it looks best this way, the sparkle of the aquamarine against the halo of diamonds fits perfectly across the width of your finger, just the way he had it made to be.

Satoru bends down even further to kiss the back of your hand, before laying it to rest on your stomach. He might need to bribe Yuuji to take care of some more work for you, you two really should get a move on that wedding planning, and you’re going to need at least a week off to fly and visit his grandma’s pastry shop in Osaka for cake tasting.

He smiles at the thought. He doesn’t feel so bad about waking you up now—wedding talk seems like the perfect way to end the evening if you ask him; there would be no sweeter sound than hearing how you imagine the start of the rest of your lives to be.

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