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burntoutdaydreamer · 6 months

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Things That May Be Causing Your Writer's Block- and How to Beat Them

I don't like the term 'Writer's Block' - not because it isn't real, but because the term is so vague that it's useless. Hundreds of issues all get lumped together under this one umbrella, making writer's block seem like this all-powerful boogeyman that's impossible to beat. Worse yet, it leaves people giving and receiving advice that is completely ineffective because people often don't realize they're talking about entirely different issues.

In my experience, the key to beating writer's block is figuring out what the block even is, so I put together a list of Actual Reasons why you may be struggling to write:

(note that any case of writer's block is usually a mix of two or more)

Perfectionism (most common)

What it looks like:

You write one sentence and spend the next hour googling "synonyms for ___"

Write. Erase. Write. Rewrite. Erase.

Should I even start writing this scene when I haven't figured out this one specific detail yet?

I hate everything I write

Cringing while writing

My first draft must be perfect, or else I'm a terrible writer

Things that can help:

Give yourself permission to suck

Keep in mind that nothing you write is going to be perfect, especially your first draft

Think of writing your first/early drafts not as writing, but sketching out a loose foundation to build upon later

People write multiple drafts for a reason: write now, edit later

Stop googling synonyms and save that for editing

Write with a pen to reduce temptation to erase

Embrace leaving blank spaces in your writing when you can't think of the right word, name, or detail

It's okay if your writing sucks. We all suck at some point. Embrace the growth mindset, and focus on getting words on a page

Lack of inspiration (easiest to fix)

What it looks like:

Head empty, no ideas

What do I even write about???

I don't have a plot, I just have an image

Want to write but no story to write

Things that can help:

Google writing prompts

If writing prompts aren't your thing, instead try thinking about what kind of tropes/genres/story elements you would like to try out

Instead of thinking about the story you would like to write, think about the story you would like to read, and write that

It's okay if you don't have a fully fleshed out story idea. Even if it's just an image or a line of dialogue, it's okay to write that. A story may or may not come out of it, but at least you got the creative juices flowing

Stop writing. Step away from your desk and let yourself naturally get inspired. Go for a walk, read a book, travel, play video games, research history, etc. Don't force ideas, but do open up your mind to them

If you're like me, world-building may come more naturally than plotting. Design the world first and let the story come later

Boredom/Understimulation (lost the flow)

What it looks like:

I know I should be writing but uugggghhhh I just can'tttttt

Writing words feels like pulling teeth

I started writing, but then I got bored/distracted

I enjoy the idea of writing, but the actual process makes me want to throw my laptop out the window

Things that can help:

Introduce stimulation: snacks, beverages, gum, music such as lo-fi, blankets, decorate your writing space, get a clickity-clackity keyboard, etc.

Add variety: write in a new location, try a new idea/different story for a day or so, switch up how you write (pen and paper vs. computer) or try voice recording or speech-to-text

Gamify writing: create an arbitrary challenge, such as trying to see how many words you can write in a set time and try to beat your high score

Find a writing buddy or join a writer's group

Give yourself a reward for every writing milestone, even if it's just writing a paragraph

Ask yourself whether this project you're working on is something you really want to be doing, and be honest with your answer

Intimidation/Procrastination (often related to perfectionism, but not always)

What it looks like:

I was feeling really motivated to write, but then I opened my laptop

I don't even know where to start

I love writing, but I can never seem to get started

I'll write tomorrow. I mean next week. Next month? Next month, I swear (doesn't write next month)

Can't find the time or energy

Unreasonable expectations (I should be able to write 10,000 words a day, right????)

Feeling discouraged and wondering why I'm even trying

Things that can help:

Follow the 2 min rule (or the 1 paragraph rule, which works better for me): whenever you sit down to write, tell yourself that you are only going to write for 2 minutes. If you feel like continuing once the 2 mins are up, go for it! Otherwise, stop. Force yourself to start but DO NOT force yourself to continue unless you feel like it. The more often you do this, the easier it will be to get started

Make getting started as easy as possible (i.e. minimize barriers: if getting up to get a notebook is stopping you from getting started, then write in the notes app of your phone)

Commit to a routine that will work for you. Baby steps are important here. Go with something that feels reasonable: every day, every other day, once a week, twice a week, and use cues to help you remember to start. If you chose a set time to write, just make sure that it's a time that feels natural to you- i.e. don't force yourself to writing at 9am every morning if you're not a morning person

Find a friend or a writing buddy you can trust and talk it out or share a piece of work you're proud of. Sometimes we just get a bit bogged down by criticism- either internal or external- and need a few words of encouragement

The Problem's Not You, It's Your Story (or Outline (or Process))

What it looks like:

I have no problems writing other scenes, it's just this scene

I started writing, but now I have no idea where I'm going

I don't think I'm doing this right

What's an outline?

Drowning in documents

This. Doesn't. Make. Sense. How do I get from this plot point to this one?!?!?! (this ColeyDoesThings quote lives in my head rent free cause BOY have I been there)

Things That Can Help:

Go back to the drawing board. Really try to get at the root of why a scene or story isn't working

A part of growing as a writer is learning when to kill your darlings. Sometimes you're trying to force an idea or scene that just doesn't work and you need to let it go

If you don't have an outline, write one

If you have an outline and it isn't working, rewrite it, or look up different ways to structure it

You may be trying to write as a pantser when you're really a plotter or vice versa. Experiment with different writing processes and see what feels most natural

Study story structures, starting with the three act structure. Even if you don't use them, you should know them

Check out Ellen Brock on YouTube. She's a professional novel editor who has a lot of advice on writing strategies for different types of writers

Also check out Savage Books on YouTube (another professional story editor) for advice on story structure and dialogue. Seriously, I cannot recommend this guy enough

Executive Dysfunction, Usually From ADHD/Autism

What it looks like:

Everything in boredom/understimulation

Everything in intimidation/procrastination

You have been diagnosed with and/or have symptoms of ADHD/Autism

Things that can help:

If you haven't already, seek a diagnosis or professional treatment

Hire an ADHD coach or other specialist that can help you work with your brain (I use Shimmer; feel free to DM me for a referral)

Seek out neurodiverse communities for advice and support

Try body doubling! There's lot's of free online body doubling websites out there for you to try. If social anxiety is a barrier, start out with writing streams such as katecavanaughwrites on Twitch

Be aware of any sensory barriers that may be getting in the way of you writing (such as an uncomfortable desk chair, harsh lighting, bad sounds)

And Lastly, Burnout, Depression, or Other Mental Illness

What it looks like:

You have symptoms of burnout or depression

Struggling with all things, not just writing

It's more than a lack of inspiration- the spark is just dead

Things that can help:

Forget writing for now. Focus on healing first.

Seek professional help

If you feel like it, use writing as a way to explore your feelings. It can take the form of journaling, poetry, an abstract reflection of your thoughts, narrative essays, or exploring what you're feeling through your fictional characters. The last two helped me rediscover my love of writing after I thought years of depression had killed it for good. Just don't force yourself to do so, and stop if it takes you to a darker place instead of feeling cathartic

#writing #creative writing #writer problems #writing advice #writing community #writing a book #writing problems #novel writing #on writing #writing tips #writing help #writers on tumblr #writers block #female writers #writers of tumblr #writers blog #adhd writer

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astraltrickster · 11 months

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What frustrates me about disability advocacy is that...of all the people I've seen talk about it, 99% of them - even ones who are disabled themselves - have eventually proven that their support has limits. Really stupid and arbitrary ones, at that.

You support disabled people...but if you see an adult with a DIAPER BULGE in their pants in public it's ON SIGHT, get your kink out of my face! Actually, even if it's not a kink, that's still gross and, like, it's not like the diaper exists to CONTAIN waste, you're a biohazard! Just stay home!

You support disabled people...but, ugh, you're so sick of masks, they feel so icky, the CDC isn't advising them anymore so really how bad can it be, if you don't want to be permanently disabled even worse than you already are then why don't you just stay home forever?

You support disabled people...but if you see anyone using a non-conventional straw that someone's billed as "anti-aging" on TikTok you proudly declare that you'll smack them, because what do you mean it might be a motor control or sensory thing?

You support disabled people...but no one is REALLY so disabled that they can't manage their lights conventionally, clean their homes by themselves, or hold a pen for extended periods of time or at all; that's just something people make up as an excuse for Bad Tech and exploitative luxury services.

You support disabled people...but, god, control your by-definition-uncontrollable tics, they're SOOOO annoying and rude!

You support disabled people...but when someone stops masking or runs out of spoons and starts speaking in a choppy, hard-to-understand way, it's a joke.

You support disabled people...but AAC is, like, sooooo annoying and hard to understand, learn to talk like a normal person instead of pointing like a baby or whatever, geez.

You support disabled people...but you hate image descriptions and video transcriptions because they're, like, sooooo ugly and transcriptions SPOIL things. (Not to be confused with "frequently not having the spoons to translate images and videos into text, which is a skill; one which everyone should try to develop, but a skill nonetheless" - I get that, it happens to me, but if you take issue with OTHER people adding them to your posts for Aesthetic Reasons, you're...kind of a dick! I'm not sorry for saying it!)

You support disabled people...but you think teehee funny joke annotations are a much more valuable use of caption tracks than, you know, actual captions are.

You support disabled people...but you still concern-troll people with armchair diagnoses of heavily stigmatized disorders for harmless weirdness, or try to paint them as icons of some kind of horrible social ill.

You support disabled people...but you're still convinced that every asshole is mentally ill, probably A Narcissist, and what do you mean that's a loaded thing to call someone when a heavily stigmatized disorder is rudely misnamed as such too, isn't it easier to, like, change the name of the disorder throughout the whole system than it is to just stop using that word as your go-to Bad Person Pathologizing Word, which you definitely need? (Or worse, you see no problem with this clash because you're convinced it IS Bad Person Disorder...)

You support disabled people...but you see someone mumbling to themself on the bus and you get as far away from them as possible because it's "scary".

You support disabled people...but you constantly try to pull "gotcha"s about people telling you not to touch people's assistive devices.

You support disabled people...but someone being okay with their delusional disorder and talking about that is BAD and PROMOTING SELF-HARM.

You support disabled people...but your body positivity still focuses exclusively on "people can be healthy and fat at the same time!" as if people who ARE fat because of health issues and/or have health issues BECAUSE of their weight don't exist or deserve support.

You support disabled people...but you declare that advocates who want us all to have more access to things that improve your quality of life are the REAL ableists for acknowledging that those things that you currently can't do tend to improve quality of life.

You support disabled people...but your advocacy for yourself involves distancing yourself from people with more support needs than you.

You support disabled people...but you treat addiction of any kind, or use of anything with known addictive tendencies, as a moral failing.

You support disabled people...until the accommodations they need clash with your own, then it's not just a benign incompatibility that sucks just as much for them as it does for you; no, you are an innocent victim and they are a horrible ableist.

You support disabled people...until it's too inconvenient. Too weird. Too scary. Once that line is crossed, it's not a disability issue anymore, they're, conveniently, just a Bad Person.

It's fucking exhausting and I'm sick to death of it.

#disability #serious tag #bitching #and even after i posted this i keep thinking of more shit people have said #not gonna edit them in because this post is long and has already been reblogged a couple of times #but might keep track of them in the tags or add more in a reblog #because. i can keep going.

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lowkeyremi · 6 months

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Late Nights aizawa x reader

it's my birthday so im writing about the man i share it with (-ε-)

content: post war au, fluff, established relationship

"This isn't good for your health, Sho." Today marks the 5th night he's stayed up past 11 pm grading papers or doing something else for his job.

"How do you think I managed before I met you?" His small sigh meets your ears, and you really want to help him. Seeing out of only one eye is most definitely slowing him down.

"You looked dead on the outside when we first met. Do you want me to help grade papers?"

"I'll finish before one, go back to bed, honey." His eyes meet yours once he hears you scoff. He's draining himself by staying up this late, every single night. His face is lit by the warm kitchen light, one of his hands tugging at his long black strands of hair in order to keep himself sane.

"Shota. I'm not taking no for an answer." You say firmly, crossing your arms to indicate that you mean business.

"I knew you'd say that, come sit down." He gives in every single time. He knows he needs the help, he just doesn't want to admit it.

"Can you read through these essays?" At first you're confident, there's only a few papers on the table.

"Can you?" You nod diligently. You confirm you're willing to help, and your husband gets up from the table and slowly walks toward your shared bedroom. When he does return there's a large stack of papers in his arms. They drop on the table with a thump. He chuckles at your horrified expression.

"Just get through as many as you can. Write feedback on them too, hon." No wonder he's always so tired, you forget that 1-A isn't his only class. If you can remember right he has six periods of classes.

"Is this pile all your class or.." He's sat back down by now and started going through papers with red pen.

"That's 3rd and 4th period. I'm finishing up with 1st and 2nd right now." You click your tongue. It's hard to get started, you don't have any motivation unlike Shota. His only motivation is probably the fact he has to do this.

"Why don't you have an online classroom? It would make grading so much easier." He's probably going to say something about not knowing how to use it..

"I prefer for my students to write manually, because it helps with remembrance." Sounds like something an old man would say. You'd voice your opinion but he'd have a comeback for sure.

-----

"Shotaaaaa, I don't wanna do anymore." Your head is resting on the table, the cool wood on your cheek. He doesn't even spare you any sympathy either, laughing at you quietly. His rich chuckles sound like comfort more than mockery in your opinion though.

"Sweetheart, you've only graded four essays." The huge stack of papers looks back at you from it's side of the table.

"Yeah and each essay had like four to five papers in it. I feel bad for your students." The two of you are going to cuddle. You're determined to make it happen, so before he could even reply, you bounce up from your seat, grab his hand, and tug him towards your bedroom.

"We're going to sleep. I'm not taking any other answers besides "okay" or "yes my love." He clicks his tongue at your statement, but finds no reason to oblige.

-----

"Do you want to know something?" He whispers into your ear cuddling you close enough to feel the warmth of his chest on your back.

"What?" At this point you're only half-conscious, struggling to register what your husband's just said.

"I'm actually ahead of schedule. I can grade those papers loosely throughout this week." He admits with no guilt or shame in his voice at all. What a workaholic.

"Are you serious? So I could have been cuddling you all this time?"

"Yeah, I just do work to get out of my head." You wonder how many times you'll have to remind him that you're his strength and that you'll help him through anything, before he actually believes it.

"If you were having trouble sleeping, you should have told me." His big hand rests in your hair playing with it slowly.

"Didn't wanna bother you." His hand is so comforting that you almost fall asleep.

"You're never a bother to me Sho." Your voice is so soft and sincere that he almost breaks out into tears of joy. He's so happy to have met you.

"Oh." It has finally clicked in his brain, even though you've been married to him for quite some time.

You are his light.

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five-rivers · 28 days

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Welcome Back Home

Phic Phight Fic for Avi!

Danny may have been a superhero. He may have been annoying. He may even have been ‘practically an adult.’ He was still Jazz’s little brother. The one who had once begged her for play time and increasingly baffling milkshake combinations. The one who helped her fight reanimated turkeys every Christmas. The one who painstakingly researched what books to give her for her birthday.

So, it wasn't so much a choice to throw herself between him and her parents’ newest and most worrying weapon as it was a reflex. If any thought crossed her mind while she dashed across the parking lot and into the path of the beam, it was either this is going to hurt or I hope I'm fast enough.

Well, it didn't hurt. It did drop her in the Ghost Zone. Immediately, She whirled, trying to find the portal.

Way back, when she and Danny had come clean about their respective secrets, Danny had sat her down for what he called his ‘Ghost Zone Survival Guide.’

“Okay,” he'd said, spinning in his spinny chair, “Ghost Zone survival, part one. Don't go there.”

Tucker had snorted. Jazz, who had taken out a fresh notebook and her special note-taking gel pens, glared at him.

“I'm serious,” Danny had defended himself. “The Zone isn't a good place for humans.”

“Why?”

“Do you want some reason other than it operating under different laws of physics and being full of super-powered people who don't care if they kill you by mistake? The radiation, maybe?”

“Never mind. Go ahead.”

“That's what I thought. Anyway, if you wind up going through an unstable or temporary portal, the first thing you need to do is go back through that portal. Like, forget about anything else that's going on. Fights, escapes, your car, other people, get yourself back through.”

“That seems a bit callous,” Jazz had said.

“Well, maybe. But the Ghost Zone is huge, and natural portals and temporary portals aren't just unstable in space, they're unstable in time.”

“They could spit you out in my first life, the middle ages, a thousand years in the future, you name it,” Tucker had helpfully added.

“First life?”

“Don't worry about it,” Danny had said.

“Pharaonic Egypt,” Tucker had answered.

“The point is,” Danny had continued loudly, “you don't want to take a chance with portals unless you know they're stable or have the Infi-Map.”

“Or time grandpa has your back.”

“Stop calling him that.”

“Who is–”

“It doesn't matter. He doesn't have your back. He doesn't have anyone's back.”

Tucker had made a noise of negation. “He has your back.”

Danny had responded by beaning his friend with a pillow.

Somehow, despite being genuinely informative, Jazz had come away from the ‘lesson’ With more questions than answers. None of which were pertinent to her present situation.

She turned on the spot again, surveying her surroundings in more detail. It didn't help. No matter which direction she turned in, there was no portal.

So. Step one: failed.

Onto step two.

“What if I can't get back through the portal though?” Jazz had asked.

“Well, if you aren't being actively attacked–”

“You should definitely take care of that first if you are.”

“If you aren't under attack, see if you can spot any landmarks. If you can see one, you'll at least have a general idea of where you are. Mostly.”

“We're making a map,” Tucker had said, “but it sucks.”

“That's not a comment on our self-confidence or whatever,” Danny had said before Jazz could interject. “Stuff moves in the Ghost Zone. It's kind of like trying to make a map of the solar system. If you're sitting on Jupiter, you know where the sun is, and you've got a pretty good idea about the inner planets, but unless you have a model you can put the time into, you're not going to have any idea where Pluto is.”

“And you wouldn't know the right time, either,” Jazz had said, contemplatively.

“Exactly. But landmarks are still good. They'll give you your general area, at least. And maybe what else is around, too.” He'd given her a photo album full of Ghost Zone landmarks, then, and they'd spent the next half hour going through them.

Jazz was on a floating island. It was medium-sized, perhaps a dozen or so acres square on this side, full of softly rolling hills covered with purple grass and pale green flowers. As far as Jazz could tell, there wasn't anything else on it, although that didn't mean there wasn't. It didn’t look like any place she'd seen or heard of.

Offshore, the Zone was a moderately-familiar green-on-green. Foggy ectoplasm and the lack of anything like a horizon made it difficult to judge distances.

There were a few other islands Jazz could see. Something like a mountain range, a floating sphere, and, just on the edge of her vision, a slightly more regular conglomeration of shapes that could have been a town.

Bingo.

“If you don't recognize anything, do your best to head towards civilization.”

Jazz had raised an eyebrow at that. “Despite the super-powered people who don't care if I die?”

“She’s got you there, Danny my man.”

“Ugh, why couldn't Sam have been here?”

“Gasp, don't tell me you forgot the mega-ultra-turbo grounding already? How could you?”

Danny had thrown another pillow at Tucker. “You're so unhelpful. Anyway, people are dangerous, but they're also the only place you're going to get directions.”

“And if I see something, how do I get there? Considering everything is a flying island.”

“That’s a bit tricky.”

Jazz bounced on her the balls of her feet, staring down the green void between herself and her destination. She’d never done this before, and despite Danny and Tucker’s attempts at an explanation, or even Sam’s later on… Well, she felt like she should’ve convinced them to bring her to the Ghost Zone to practice.

There was nothing she could do but try. She closed her eyes and jumped into the air, believing she could fly with all her might. Her feet hit the ground again. Damn.

One, two, three, she tried again, and again, and again, and then, finally, when she got mad, when she got frustrated, her feet left the ground and stayed off the ground. She was flying, like only a human in the Ghost Zone could fly.

She opened her eyes and looked over to the distant probably-town. It was just as distant as before. And now she was exhausted from jumping. Both the jumping right now, and the jumping into the line of fire she’d done earlier.

Well, no time like the present to get going. She took off.

The little details of Danny’s advice hadn’t stuck with her - he’d really waxed poetic - but she was still able to move forward. She also spent a lot of time moving down whenever her concentration slipped. Of course, she knew it wasn’t really down, thanks to those same conversations with Danny. It was just the direction she perceived as down, or something like that.

Danny liked flying like this. Danny liked every method of flying to ever exist. Jazz, personally, hated it. A lot. Every minute that passed, every time she slipped, she was terrified that she would go plunging into the murky depths of the Zone, never to be seen again.

Danny hadn’t been wrong about the Ghost Zone not being good for humans.

Thank goodness the town really was a town. She wasn’t sure what she would have done if it wasn’t.

“If I do get to civilization–”

“--or what passes for it–” Tucker had said.

“--what do I do then? Be polite, I assume, but what’s polite for ghosts? What are the cultural touchstones? The social norms?”

“Dunno,” Danny had said. “It’s not like ghosts are just one big group that’s all the same. But if you get to a group of ghosts, like, I don’t know a village or something, they’ll all probably be fairly tolerant. To live together without fighting, you know? Normal politeness will be fine. Probably. Assuming they can speak English.”

She managed a landing at the edge of the town. She hit too hard, and her knees buckled. A few ghosts stopped what they were doing - she didn’t know what, couldn’t spare the attention while flying - to stare at her. With an effort she smiled at them. Closed lips. Many cultures considered smiles with teeth to be aggressive or rude.

“Hi,” she said. “I was wondering if you could help me.”

“Kio? Kio ŝi diris?”

“Mi ne scias, mi ne parolas la francan.”

Ah. She should’ve taken up Tucker’s offer to teach her some basic Esperanto. Danny was never going to let her live this down.

“Okay, so, what do I do if they don’t speak English?” she’d asked.

“Get good at charades? You probably won’t be able to get good directions without speaking the language - I have no idea how you’d do the portal in charades - but you can trade stuff. Bargain, barter, whatever you want to call it.”

“For food? Supplies?”

“Eh, not food, actually. Ghost Zone food is mostly ectoplasm. Not good for humans.”

“Then what? Well, you’ll think it’s crazy, but…”

Somehow or another, she got the idea of marketplace and trade across to the ghosts. Apparently the Esperanto word was related to the English. Cousins. Brothers. Whatever, it didn’t matter.

What did matter was what she was going to trade to the ghosts. All she had was her purse, and for a teenage girl, she traveled light. She had her wallet, parking change, a small handful of coupons, number two pencils, a pencil sharpener, a pen, various hygiene products, lipstick, laser, lipstick laser, sunscreen, the universal pocket psychology guide, granola bars, a screwdriver, a couple of bolts from the Peeler - if only she kept that in her purse - spiked bracelet from Spike, phone, and, okay, she didn’t pack that light. There should be something in all this that the ghosts here would probably like.

The ghosts who had seen her less-than-stellar landing ushered her to a colorful, cloth-covered stall, the contents of which looked like the detritus of a million flea markets. The ghost… manning it? Ghosting it? Haunting it? What was the terminology in this case? Whatever. The ghost at the stall was pale green and nondescript except for the swathes of polka-dotted cloth wrapped around their body.

They stared at her with wide eyes. “Ĉu tio estas homo? Viva homo?”

She smiled, forcefully. That didn’t sound like a hello, but she’d take it. “Hello,” she said. “Do you have any boxes?” She made the shape of a box with her hands.

“The Box Ghost? You’re saying that if I can’t get directions, my next step is to try to summon the Box Ghost?”

“Hey, believe it or not I’ve got an agreement with a lot of the regulars. If they bring back lost humans, they get, um. A nonlethal free day. In Amity Park. I can get you a list. And even if you end up in a weird time, like, before I made the deal or something, the Box Ghost is pretty easy. Worst case scenario, you can even let Walker catch you. He always sends humans back.”

Jazz sat on the edge of the town, a cardboard box in hand, purse lighter by a novelty pencil sharpener and the spare screws and bolts. “Oh, great and powerful and completely terrifying Box Ghost,” she said, feeling ridiculous. “I have an offering for your awful, terribleness. It’s cubical and cardboard-ical. Cardboard. Whatever.” She sighed. “This isn’t going to work, is it?”

“DID SOMEONE CALL UPON THE FRIGHTENING AND FRIGHTFUL BOX GHOST, MASTER OF RECTANGULAR CARDBOARD PACKAGES?”

Jazz shrieked and almost fell off the island.

The Box Ghost blinked down at her. “Beware?” he said.

“Hi,” said Jazz. “A gift?” She held up the box.

“THE CARDBOARD IS MINE!” He leaped on the box and held it to his chest like a baby. “What do you want from the HORRIFYING BOX GHOST?”

“So, uh, I know you have a deal with my brother?”

“WHOMST?”

“My brother,” repeated Jazz. “Danny. Phantom?”

The Box Ghost stared at her blankly.

“To get humans back to Amity Park?”

“THE BOX GHOST DOES NOT KNOW THE REALM OF WHICH YOU SPEAK?”

That wasn’t good. The opposite, really. If the Box Ghost didn’t recognize Danny’s name…

“What if I am in the past?” Jazz had asked.

“Get back to Earth anyway, and survive. Find a way to get a message to the present. Between the Infi-Map and, um, other contacts I have–”

“Time grandpa,” Tucker interjected.

“I should be able to go get you if I know where and when you are. But I need to know when and where you are.”

Then, Jazz had asked why he couldn't just pick her up at the exact moment she'd arrived, if he was going to time travel anyway, and that had spurred a migrane-inducing argument about paradoxes. Jazz had gotten the impression that the real reason was more along the lines of ‘Danny isn’t allowed to have any more paradoxes’ than ‘the universe won't let paradoxes exist.’

Jazz smiled thinly. “Can you get me to Earth?” she asked. “Please? It’ll be worth your while.”

“Worth the while of the GREAT BOX GHOST?”

“Yep. It might take a while, but you’ll get more of those.” She nodded towards the box in the ghost’s arms. “Consider it an investment in future, um, fear.”

“FEAR?”

“Yes. As in, um, fear me?”

“No, you shall FEAR ME!”

“Exactly,” said Jazz. “Just like that. Can you do it? Or… is it beyond the powers of even the Box Ghost?”

“NOTHING IS BEYOND THE BOX GHOST! I AM EXTREME IN EVERY WAY! THE BOX GHOST WILL SHOW THE STRANGE GIRL WITH GIFTS THE WAY TO HIS SECRET PORTAL!”

At least something was going right. “Thanks,” Jazz said. “That sounds great. I really appreciate it. Where is it?”

“FOLLOW ME!” The Box Ghost paused. “AND FEAR ME!”

He flew off, and Jazz struggled to keep up. Luckily, the Box Ghost was courteous enough to stop for her every once in a while. The flight seemed to go on forever, but, eventually, they came to a stop in front of a twisting, spluttering portal.

“Does this really lead to the Earth?” Jazz asked.

“THE BOX GHOST DOES NOT LIE!”

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean to imply that. It’s just… is it always so sparky?”

“IT IS UNSTABLE! ONLY THE BOX GHOST IS BRAVE ENOUGH TO USE IT!”

Which meant that it could spit her out anywhere, at any time. But at least she’d be on Earth, AKA somewhere she could eat the food and drink the water.

“It doesn’t come out above an ocean, does it?”

“THERE ARE NO BOXES IN THE OCEAN. THE BOX GHOST HAS NO USE FOR IT.”

“What about crab pots?” asked Jazz.

“THE BOX GHOST DOES NOT INTERFERE WITH THE COUNCILS OF CRABS.”

Jazz… wasn’t going to examine that too closely. She braced herself and flew into the portal. The transition this time wasn’t the smooth, blink-and-you’re-in-another-dimension it had been with her parents’ weapon. It had turbulence, and lots of it. It was like being in a washing machine. Or a blender. A really fast blender. One that pulsed and shook and sang a song while it was at it.

It spit her out ten feet above ground. It wouldn’t have been a problem for a ghost, but for a human… Well, at least she didn’t break any bones. Instead, she laid, winded, on the ground. Tall grass framed her vision on all sides. The sun was hot overhead. Which was… less than ideal. It had been Autumn this morning. However long from now that was.

Jazz rubbed her temples. All she had to do was send a message, satisfy Danny’s no-paradox rule, and then she’d be home. Until then, she would survive. She refused to saddle Danny with the guilt associated with her disappearing.

She got up. Looked around. There was a dirt road. She staggered over to it and flipped a coin to decide whether to go left or right. Left it was.

She grew steadier as she walked, but the heat was punishing. She took off her sweater and was tempted to take her shirt off, too. She was wearing a sports bra underneath. It wasn’t like it’d be indecent.

Unless she’d been dropped into the eighteen hundreds. Best not to risk it.

The dirt road became gravel, became poorly-paved asphalt, merged onto another, bigger road… A road with a recognizable name. Jazz wasn’t that far away from Amity Park. She could probably even call… home…

“I’m stupid,” she said out loud. She pulled out her phone. No service. Typical. She kept walking. And walking. And walking.

And then she saw the smoke. Right where Amity Park should be. She ran, then.

She crested the hill, passed the Welcome to Amity Park sign - something was off about it, but she didn’t stop to try and see what it was. She hit the top of the next hill and stopped.

That– That wasn’t Amity Park. At least, it wasn’t her Amity Park. The buildings were bigger. Shinier. Whiter, even. The logo for the GIW sat proudly on one of the tallest ones.

And so many of them were smashed. Burning. Green blurs swirled and fought with white ones. She sat down.

“And what if I wind up in the future instead?”

“I don't know, hope the rest of us don't cause the apocalypse before you get back?”

There was one more explosion, and then a high-pitched wail, a ghostly wail, threw all of the shapes back and away. The white ones didn’t come back.

Jazz… wasn’t sure what to do. She watched. She waited.

And then a familiar shape appeared out of the air in front of her. It was Danny, but… not. He was thinner. Sharper. There was silver and ice in his hair, and blood and ectoplasm on his face. “Hi, Jazz,” he said, smiling sheepishly despite the dark gleam in his eyes. “Well… it isn’t the apocalypse, so…” He spread his hands to either side, and the GIW building behind him fell over. “Welcome home?”

#phic phight 2024 #phic phight #danny phantom #fic #jazz fenton

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ddejavvu · 1 year

Note

okay okay I'm so obsessed with this idea of grumpy gruff/hotch who's secretly the most romantic bf ever so what about hotch who's sick but powers through it at work until you show up to drop off lunch and suddenly he's the biggest baby ever??

Adore your writing, thank you for being an angel!

The team doesn't even know he's sick until you show up with a care kit. Derek's brow furrows as he spots cold medicine in your hand, flagging you down before you can rush to Aaron's office.

"Hey, Missus Hotchner!" He calls, still a tease even when confused.

"Hm?" You nod in greeting, frozen on the steps.

"What's the cough syrup for," He motions to the bottle, "You and Hotch gonna party?"

"There's sprite in the kitchen," Emily snorts.

"No," You laugh incredulously, "Aaron's sick, I'm here to bring him soup and his medicine."

With that, you're off. You take Derek's confused silence as your opportunity to leave, rushing up the stairs and shutting the door behind you. Even if they can't hear you, they watch as Hotch sets down his pen at the sight of you, and how his shoulders droop with exhaustion.

"Hi, honey." You croon, gripping his cheeks and leaning over his desk to kiss his heated forehead, "Oh, my poor baby. You ready for soup?"

"Yes please," He rasps, and if his voice is a little more pitiful than it was during the BAU's earlier meeting, you'll never know.

"Take some medicine," You hand over the bottle, "10 mL, Aaron. No skimping."

He rolls his eyes, "I only did that once."

"Yeah," You scoff, "Last night! You're not to be trusted anymore."

"There," He pours the recommended dose into the small plastic cup, showcasing his precision, "Is that good enough for you, doctor?"

"Yes," You grin, refusing to acknowledge his snark, "Drink it all, Aaron."

As an adult accustomed to a drink here and there, his face should not screw up the way it does at the taste of the cough syrup. The team sees it through the windows lining Hotch's office, and there's assorted chuckles and gasps when you guide his mouth open again, holding a bottle of water to his lips and tipping it between his lips.

"Look at that," Derek marvels, "She's babying him."

"And he's acting the part," JJ's eyebrows raise when he shuts his eyes, leaning into your palm so that you kiss his forehead once more, "Oh my god, look, she's feeding him!"

Sure enough, you crack open a container of soup and hold the spoon up to Aaron's lips for him. He doesn't even try to do it himself, keeping his eyes droopy as you spoon more and more down his throat.

They only stop looking because you nearly catch them, but it's hard to return to normal like their stoic boss isn't melting in his girlfriend's hands a few feet away.

It's later, after you've left, that they really notice the shift. Aaron's mobile again, putzing around the kitchen to make himself a third cup of coffee for the day. Reid needs a refill, too, and while he's busy stirring in his overzealous portion of sugar, he strikes up conversation with Hotch.

"You're not contagious, are you?"

Hotch side-eyes him from the counter, shaking his head slightly, "No, you'll be fine. It's just a small cold."

"You looked miserable," Reid muses, keeping his eyes on his spoon, "From the way Y/N reacted when she kissed your forehead, I assume you have, or had, a fever, and it'll only get worse if you don't rest. If I were you I'd take the day off, and make sure the fever went down before coming back."

"Thank you for the advice, Reid." Aaron's hand tightens around his coffee mug, and he doesn't seem all that grateful for it despite what he says, "I'll keep that in mind."

He strides back to his office, door shut a bit too harshly for anyone's liking.

"Sore subject," Emily snickers as Reid rejoins the group, "You should have seen the way he flushed red when you mentioned Y/N."

"He's probably texting her now," Derek elbows Reid, pointing to his office where Hotch is bent over his phone, "Whaddya think it says, pretty boy?"

"Oh! Oh, uh," Emily answers instead, steadying her voice for her famed Hotch Impression, "Honeybunches," And the team bursts into giggles, "Reid said I should rest, will you pwease come pick me up?"

"Pwease," JJ snorts, "And- and bring my blankie for the car ride home."

Thirty minutes later, you stride back into the bullpen, and when you usher Aaron out of his office and home for the day, there's a blanket draped over his shoulders.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner one-shot #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner headcanon #aaron hotchner hc #aaron hotchner headcanons #aaron hotchner hcs #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner dialogue #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction

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daenysx · 8 months

Note

could you do a drabble where reader is trying to study but aemond is distracting them? I long for needy attention seeking adorable aemond rn 😂

new crumbs from ewan made writing this really easy!! i just missed seeing aemond so much, thank you for this request!

send me your requests for drabbles

a kiss on your shoulder.

another kiss on the top of your head.

just when aemond leans in to kiss your other shoulder, you turn your face to him and his lips find your bottom lip with an instinctual movement.

"you really should let me study. what will happen if i fail my exam, hmm? do you think you can handle my tears?" you say, teasing him with a smile.

"i can handle your everything." he says, his lips press on your neck this time. "come on, take a break."

you exhale, pointing the papers in front of you. "aemond, i can't. i have to finish these by tomorrow morning to catch up with the schedule."

he looks defeated, hands in the air as if he surrenders. "fine. i'm just gonna stay on bed. you know, in case you'd like to give your poor boyfriend some attention."

you chuckle, he gives you smile. you know how he cares about your studies, he'd never do anything to interrupt them. aemond just misses you. for the past week he has only seen you in the mornings and in the middle of the night when you bury your tired body in his arms as you both fall asleep. this evening however, he came home from office earlier than usual only to find you at your table, studying.

he takes a few steps to go lay on the bed, grabs his book from his nightstand, and starts reading it. you turn to your papers but his presence makes you want to just give up and be with him. you look at his direction again. "okay, how about i just finish this one page when you're reading and then we can cuddle?"

he lifts his head, "sweetheart, you don't have to procrastinate your work for me. you know i was just teasing."

you nod, "yes, but i miss you. i can wake up earlier to finish the rest of it."

"i don't want you to lose sleep, you need to rest."

"i need you more." you smile. "just 5 minutes, wait for me."

he nods, knowing he can't convince you otherwise. he keeps reading with a smile on his face, lifts his head after finishing his page. you write something with quick fingers, your lip between your teeth, all determined to finish faster to be with him as soon as possible.

you drop the pen and leave your chair. you jump on bed, holding onto his waist as he keeps reading. "come on, take a break. your poor girlfriend needs some attention."

his smile reaches his ears and he leaves the book. you are on top of him, wrapped around his body like a koala instantly. he kisses you and it's as natural as breathing. his fingers wander on your body, settle down on your neck to hold you. he breaks the kiss when he feels you need a deep breath and he looks at your swollen lips with a proud expression.

"i missed you, aemond."

"i missed you more, sweet thing." he tucks your hair behind your ear. "missed you enough to beg for your attention."

you kiss his cheek. "you don't need to beg for my attention, you always have it. it was a busy week but it's nothing we can't handle."

"yes, sure, we're handling it. except that i've become a desperate man without seeing your face and turned aegon's life into hell. he can call you because of it, just ignore him."

your lips curl into a loving smile and you can't help it. you lean into him just to kiss him everywhere. his neck is first, his sharp jawline, his cheeks, the tip of his nose, the skin between his eyebrows, and his forehead. your fingers curl in his platinum blonde hair, angling his head by pulling it lightly just because you know how much he likes the feeling on his scalp. your face gets closer to his lips but you don't kiss him. not yet, not until he says something.

"you should know better than teasing me like this, pretty girl. what should i offer you to kiss me, hmm?"

you hum, happy with the words he chooses. "how about a massage? yeah, i think i can do with that."

"kiss me, and i'll give you a massage for as long as you want. my pretty baby, just kiss me."

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x you #aemond x reader #modern!aemond #house of the dragon #hotd #aemond one eye #aemond × reader

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dotster001 · 10 months

Text

Dark End

A/N: Another, For Tuna, custom content end is here! I've tagged everyone from the of tag list, and everyone who voted for this particular end. If you wanna add your vote for the next one, you can do so in the comments here.

CW: Kidnapping, Yandere, manipulation

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Choose Another Ending

You groaned, and lifted your head, your neck aching from resting in that position for so long.

Wait.

How long was it?

The last thing you remembered, you were sipping tea with Jade, and he had said something about 'going home'. You made to stretch, and realized your hands were restrained behind your back. You shook yourself in your chair, hoping the chains were loose, but alas, nothing.

But the rattling was also how you realized you were not on the surface.

The bubbles around you cleared, and you were met with two pairs of glowing, mismatched eyes. You couldn't help but roll your own as you released a released breath.

"Ha ha, very funny. You guys got me." You were used to the twins…. unconventional….pranks, at this point. You were pretty sure this one was to illustrate how easily you could be gently kidnapped. They'd been telling you to up your security system for months now.

"Heh heh," two voices echoed from the darkness.

"I get the point, I'll buff up security, and let you walk me to classes. Now are you going to untie me, or have I not learned my lesson yet?"

The glowing eyes turned to each other, before turning back to you. You shivered, your gut telling you you wouldn't like the expressions they were giving one another.

"Fu fu, while we appreciate you finally listening to us, that's not what we are here to discuss today," Jade said, his ever present smirk able to be heard in his tone.

The pair of eyes you knew to be Floyd's swum closer to you, bringing his eel form into view. No matter how many times you saw it, it took your breath away. So handsome, and yet so intimidating. But when you got over your initial awe, you noticed him holding a struggling, and gagged, Grim in his arms.

"What's happening here?" You laughed nervously.

"Hmm? Oh! Sealio," Floyd giggled, as though it wasn't obvious."See, he graciously volunteered to work for our family business!"

Jade swam up next to his brother, and gently scratched the top of Grim's head.

"So generous. But we need collateral, just in case something were to go wrong. Namely, you."

The twins looked at you expectantly, and you released another nervous laugh.

"Ha ha, very funny."

Floyd scowled, and Grim winced as his grip on him tightened.

"I don't know how we can be any clearer with you, Shrimpy. We. Want. You."

"Uh…"

You were starting to get the impression that you weren't the one being held for collateral here.

But with the look in their eyes, you should definitely play their game.

"Um, how long would I be collateral?"

"I dunno, Grimmy what do you think?" Floyd jiggled Grim a little, and you heard some jumbled words from behind Grim's gag.

"Interesting point, Grim," Jade said thoughtfully. "It sounds like he wants to work with us…forever?"

The twins both looked at each other in, clearly mock, surprise.

"That's so cool of you, baby seal!" Floyd hugged him tightly in excitement. "But obviously, Y/N's gotta make some agreements first."

The twins looked at you, sinister grins mimicking one another in perfect synch.

"What kind of agreements?"

"I'm so glad you asked!" Jade said, pulling out a golden contract that you assumed they had gotten off of Azul. He pulled out a pen, running the top lightly along your jaw.

"We're going to unlock one of your hands, and you'll sign this for us."

"What does it say?"

"Fu fu fu, we'll worry about that part. All you need to do is look into Grim's sad, pathetic eyes, and sign the contract. Think you can do that for me?" It felt like he was saying it to a toddler. But you guessed since you were the one who was so easily gently kidnapped, it was probably necessary for you to be talked down on.

"Okay," you said shakily.

"Wonderful!" Jade swam behind you, and you felt his fingers gently brush your dominant hand, before fumbling with the lock of that particular chain. He placed the pen in it, then firmly placed his hands on your shoulders. Just in case you were stupid enough to get any ideas.

You brought your hand forward, signed the contract, and then…

Huh.

How bout that?

What were you doing here?

Oh, there was Floyd!

And, you could tell from the distinctive cologne, Jade was behind you, massaging your shoulders, and softly kissing along your neck.

How sweet of him.

Sevens, you love them so much.

You just want to be with them forever, and ever, and ever, and ever, and ever, and ever.

And ever.

The End

....

Tag list- @stygianoir @leonia0 @lleoll @eccedentesiast-sapphic @supertmntgirl @cxsmicdustdreams @aethermostbeloved @krystalkiller25 @asmallbean3 @theneurodivergentdummy @candlewitch-cryptic @smilingfox22-blog @phantomgaming1920 @the-dumber-scaramouche @noidonothavetimeforthis @bontensbabygirl @xxoomiii @somany-fandoms-solittle-time @bre99 @stupidsimp @sus0daddy @a-small-tyrant @imlost-sendhelp @mizukiblogs @offpaperponies @names-are-dumb @krenenbaker @dragontamer222 @soapybubbles0 @homestuckotaku @jackalope08

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #floyd x reader #floyd leech x reader #floyd leech #yan! floyd leech x reader #yan! floyd leech #yandere floyd leech #yandere floyd x reader #jade leech x reader #jade x reader #twst jade #yan! jade leech #yan! jade leech x reader #yandere jade leech #yandere jade x reader #for tuna

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astrophileous · 7 months

Note

I feel like Derek would be SO aware of Bug when she gets further along in the pregnancy. Anytime she winces due to a harsh kick or Braxton hick, he’s right there beside her. He makes a huge deal of it too, especially if he can’t be by her side immediately 😭 even asks Penelope to send him updates when he’s away

This takes place during the first pregnancy, when Bug is pregnant with Little Bug 🥰 I kinda took inspiration from that scene when JJ went into labor the first time around, I hope you like it <3

Side note, I literally interrogated my mom abt her pregnancy/labor experience for this one cause I don't have any 😭 but then she proceeded to ask if I HAD SOMETHING I WANTED TO TELL HER AKJSJSJDJ LIKE MOM NO I'M NOT PREGNANT I'm just writing a story plsss

Love Bugs Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

With your due date just around the corner, it felt like Derek was also constantly in your corner.

The week marked your first one on maternity leave. You had many objections over having to take a longer leave--how were you ever going to survive four long weeks at home doing nothing?--but after constant pestering from both your doctor and Derek, you relented.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

Derek was next to you in a flash, as per usual, after he had heard your wince. You were sure that the man was just in another room mere moments prior, yet the second he caught the tiniest sign of distress coming from you, he proceeded to transport himself towards your side.

"Nothing." You chuckled, trying to ease his mind. "Your son is just eager to practice his kicking skills today."

The frown on his forehead deepened. "Does it hurt?"

"It's not that bad."

"Are you sure?" Derek's hand sneaked on top of your belly, as if trying to tell your son to calm down before he could send another painful kick against your abdomen. "Are you sure it's even a kick? Maybe we should go to the--"

"Derek, I'm fine. Promise." You patted his hand that was still on top of yours, entangling them together. "Have you heard from Hotch about where you guys are going tomorrow?"

"Louisville, Kentucky." Derek seemed to ponder something in silence before he continued, "Should I ask Hotch to sit this one out?"

"What? Why would you do that?"

"I don't like being so far away from you." His hand squeezed around yours as he said it, as if trying to emphasize his point. "What if something happens?"

"Nothing is gonna happen, honey. I'm probably just gonna be sleeping half the time you're gone. You'll be bored as hell and wish that you were in Kentucky instead."

"I don't know. I kinda like watching you sleep."

"Good one, Mister. But still no," you said. "Everything's gonna be just fine. Trust me."

Derek wasn't entirely happy about it, but you managed to push him out of the door bright and early the next morning. In his absence, you had the whole house to yourself, and you used that opportunity to do anything to keep yourself out of boredom. Nothing too strenuous, just as your doctor instructed. Not that you could do anything extreme with the weight of your 36-week bump.

You were in the middle of preparing dinner when the doorbell suddenly rang.

Confused, you turned off the stove before heading towards the front door, wondering all the way who could be visiting you on a random Tuesday night.

Your curiosity was answered the moment you opened the door, only to be met with a familiar pair of eyes behind red rimmed glasses and a head of blonde hair in perfect ringlets.

"Pen? What are you doing here?" Your eyes flitted down, noticing the polka dot duffle bag on the ground. "Why do you have a bag?"

"Surprise, Beets! We're having a sleepover!"

You were still in shock when Penelope rushed past you and entered the house. "What do you mean, sleepover?"

"Have you never had a sleepover before, Beets? It means I'm gonna stay here, of course!"

"What? I don't--" realization dawned upon you then, "--did Derek put you up to this?"

"No."

"Pen."

"Okay, fine! Maybe he did. But--" Penelope raised her finger when she saw you about to cut her off, "--I was more than happy and willing to do it anyway. I also don't like the thought of you being alone in this house all by yourself."

"Pen, I appreciate the gesture, really, I do. But just because I'm pregnant doesn't mean I'm not the same person I was before. I can still deliver a mean punch if I have to," you reminded her. "You don't have to do this."

"Beets," Penelope gripped your shoulders, "I know I don't have to, but I want to, okay? Unless you're not looking forward to a marathon of the greatest 90s romcoms every single night. Shall I make myself scarce?"

You mulled over Penelope's offer for a minute. A marathon of the greatest 90s romcoms every single night did sound tempting.

"Fine." When Penelope began to squeal, you quickly added, "But no smothering!"

Penelope ended up staying for nearly the entire week, during which time Derek was constantly terrorizing her with text and voice messages; either demanding an update on you and the baby or asking Penelope to monitor your condition throughout the day.

"He's being ridiculous," you had commented one night when another one of his text messages came in the middle of My Best Friend's Wedding.

"He's worried about you."

"He's too worried." You grabbed another handful of popcorns. "You have my permission to block him anytime you feel like he's being too much."

"Won't that just give him a reason to hop on a plane and go home early?"

Your munching stopped. "Damn, you're right. Fine, just... tell him off anytime he starts being too crazy."

On Saturday, you finally received word that the team was flying back home to Virginia.

"They'll arrive in a couple of hours," Penelope called out from her position in the kitchen. "I've packed my bag and will get out of your hair as soon as Derek gets here. You guys can--what are you doing?"

Penelope knitted her eyebrows together once she walked back into the living area, seeing you somewhat writhing on the couch.

"I don't know. I just can't seem to get comfortable," you said. "And there's this... squeezing pain, I think? I don't know. I think he's pressing on my bladder or kidney or something."

"Beets." Penelope's face had gone a little paler, but there was the ghost of a smile adorning her fuchsia-painted lips. "I think you just described a contraction."

Your heart stuttered. "What? What are you talking about?"

"Beets." Penelope was beside you in a second, just in time for another contraction to hit. "You're going into labor."

#derek morgan #derek morgan x reader #derek morgan x fem!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x fem!reader #derek morgan fic #derek morgan fanfiction #derek morgan imagine #derek morgan fluff #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fluff #dad derek morgan #shemar moore #love bugs

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m1ssunderstanding · 2 months

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Understanding Lennon McCartney Rewatch Part 1.2

George: We don't have to keep [an image] up, we just remain ourselves. Don't we, Ringo? Ringo: well, we do, I mean, it's the other two we're worried about. It's a joke about John and Paul being bigheads, but a crazy person – definitely not me – could also see it other ways if they wanted to.

Paul talking about their mutual friend when asked how they met and John telling him not to complicate it. They're so married it's ridiculous.

Always looking at each other with every single joke.

He looks like he's in a lovely enclosure at the petting zoo. I've always been so confused by this footage. Can anyone tell me what the hell is going on?

I LOVE that we now know Paul was cast as Thisbe and John as Pyramus and then they switched. I'm actually dying to know how and why that happened though. My first instinct was “of course. Paul was scared he'd look too convincing as a woman, so John did it for him.” But no. Paul dressed as a woman at the cavern, wore ladies lingerie in Hamburg, and wanted to do a full drag show on TV in the early seventies. So why not Thisbe?

Why do you as a man randomly bring up the color of your friend's dick while staring lovingly into his eyes?

It must be noted. They had a wonderful time playing star-crossed lovers.

The bickering pianos are so cute! And then John (prompting Paul): and John and I . . . Paul: oh I hate this. John: will probably carry on . . . Paul: we'll carry on songwriting . . . You just know Paul didn't hear the end of that one interview answer for a long long time. And it's because John just had to hear it over and over again.

Love the editing so that Paul smacks John's ass right as the symbols crash. 10/10 A+

This iconic moment. Poor George tally number 4.

Interviewer brings up marriage and John takes a shot like he wants to forget that the whole concept even exists. Literally poor Cynthia. And not even in an “lol her husband's gay” type of way. Just in a genuine “the way their relationship fell apart actually breaks my heart because she really did love him and in his way he loved her too but they were just so thoroughly incompatible” type of way.

Paul: makes a stupid dad joke. John: giggles gleefully and kicks his feet

I have never seen someone so disappointed that they didn't need to lend their friend a pen. Paul had his hand in his pocket before John even asked the interviewer for a pen and when the interviewer gives him one, Paul literally hangs his head like he's just been cut from the school play. I just. The obsession is frankly cartoonish. But also, he just needs to be needed, you know? How many songs does he have which conflate being needed and being loved?

The juxtaposition of Paul and John elaborately messing with the interviewer (“yes John Lenard, that's me” and “actually it's done by mirrors.”) vs George's “I don't know” and “yeah.” it's actually kind of mean editing but whatever. It is ULM not UH. Someone should make that though.

Again, John. Calm down. He's not that funny. Just look at Jimmy. That's the normal person's reaction to that joke. John is half the reason Paul has such a big head honestly.

Paul's answer to a question about the Beatles gaining a lot of adult fans is nice. Sometimes he shocks with a bit of wisdom. Sometimes his words don't get messed up at the point they hit his throat as he says.

What the fuck? Okay so the interviewer asks Paul what he likes in a girl, right? I've always been too distracted by Paul saying he likes a sense of humor and John doing an obnoxious fake laugh in the background because John. It's embarrassing how obvious you are. Stop.

But I never noticed Paul actually says “people”. The interviewer asks about girls and he says he likes “people - er - girls” to have a sense of humor. Huh. Okay.

So ULM was actually what made me a serious Beatles fan and this was the first moment where I had to pause it and verify to see if what I'd just read was actually true. It really is a doozy.

How to flirt. A guide by Paul McCartney. Step one: get your crush’s attention. This should be extremely easy. Just gesture vaguely at something you're holding. He'll be interested. Step two: do something suggestive to a phallic object. Step three: that's it. You've got him. He'll do whatever you want.

The editing in this thing truly is brutal. Just the jump cuts from a question about Cynthia to John and Paul making each other laugh to girls screaming to John and Paul unnecessarily touching to girls passed out on the ground to John and Paul desperate for each other's attention to girls waving signs to John and Paul sharing weird eye contact to girls physically mobbing them to John and Paul beaming at each other to a question about Jane. It really does drive home the immense pressure of compulsory heterosexuality back then.

Then a question that's obviously meant to poke a nerve and start some bad feelings. “Paul. Is John the leader of the Beatles?” Easily rebuffed with “no I'm not” and “there's no real leader”. I know I'm dramatic but really it's like every aspect of that society was against them you know? And they just kind of said "fuck you, we're crazy about each other."

Question: what do they think about when they're imprisoned in their hotel rooms? John: we don't think about one thing. *Whips head to look at Paul* well, some of us do. Oh and you know that how exactly? What, do you just have a printout of his every thought? Do you keep constant tabs on his dick?

Someone give me the heterosexual explanation of that moment when John very clearly and obviously checks out and appreciates Paul's ass as he and Ringo are pretending to be cowboys. Seriously. I'm at a loss here.

Poor George tally number six? Seven? They're asked what they'll do if England reinstates the draft. John brings up Southern Ireland. George brings up Germany. Paul and John plan their joint escape to Southern Ireland as if George hadn't even spoken.

The choice to play “Another Girl” over that quote of John's being like ‘Paul's actually much meaner than i am’ is great. Because that's seriously such a jerk song. I don't much like Jane, honestly, but fuck, she deserved so much better than Paul. He was such a douche.

Literally all the song choices in this are phenomenal. “Hide Your Love Away” over the montage of 60s homophobia moments? It's so genius. Saying everything without saying anything. Letting the Beatles do the talking.

The laugh track over the cartoon is honestly so sad. Nobody asked them if they were okay with being mocked like that and they never even made a dime off it. What would that have felt like to know that your being “too close” with your best friend was a running joke on TV?

“It's only love and that is all. Why should I feel the way I do?”

#paul mccartney #the beatles #john lennon #mclennon #ringo starr #george harrison

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luxsky · 3 months

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Acotar characters; "you're staring" "you're beautiful"

Summary: ACOTAR characters + Twitter trend "you're staring" "you're beautiful"

Warnings: Moderately inaccurate political economy information, I think that's it (let me know if I missed anything)

Author's Note: Okay, I had a lot of fun writing this, hope you enjoy!

Rhysand

Ruling a court comes with various responsibilities, including dealing with accounting. Deciding how much money goes into each aspect, where there will be investments or cuts, handling the demand for buying and selling prices, export profits, and import expenses – these are the matters a High Lord has to deal with.

And Rhysand hates it; he dislikes mathematics, numbers, and especially thinking about all the headaches that economics brings him. That's why, when we got married and he made me his High Lady to reign by his side, I volunteered to handle that part – the part he disliked but I enjoyed.

So, while Rhysand deals with the political aspects that don't interest me, I handle the ones that don't interest him. We often work together, despite having separate offices. We also have a shared one because, even though we sometimes prefer working alone, most of the time, we choose to work together, not only to spend time together but also to enjoy each other's company and deal with any situation requiring the other's opinion.

"I think we should invest more in the export of artistic materials," I say to him, standing on the plush rug in the office, papers scattered on the floor from where I was previously sitting. I've analyzed these two specific papers in my hands for several minutes, pacing back and forth until reaching this conclusion.

"Well, we could do that, but the demand would increase, and we'd have to invest in structures for mass production of materials," he murmurs in response, not lifting his head from his stack of papers, filled mostly with reports from spies and armies.

"Urgh, okay, let me look into that," I crouch down, sitting on my heels as I shuffle through the scattered papers on the floor, searching for specific ones.

I make a satisfied noise when I find what I need, also grabbing a pen and starting to scribble some calculations and values on a blank sheet. Information here, consequences there, trying to find the best way to expand the Night Court's export market.

Rhys's pen stops, and I glimpse a movement from the corner of my eye, but I'm too focused on what I'm writing. I search for another paper, Mother, I should start organizing myself better. I lean to reach it, using the values there to compare with the ones I noted down, another paper comes to my hand, and my head is filled with numbers, values, and variations.

At some point, my concentration begins to wane because I feel eyes piercing my side. Perhaps my partner is trying to hint that my murmurs are bothering him, or maybe he wants to say something and is waiting for the right moment.

I put the papers back on the floor and look at him. Contrary to what I imagined, he's leaning back in his chair, a smirk on his lips, and his arms crossed over his chest. He doesn't look away or say anything, so I make a face and go back to shuffling my papers, still feeling the burn of his gaze on me.

"Rhysand, love, you're staring," I murmur, starting to stack the papers I had spread all over the floor, attempting a fake organization. I hear the sound of his chair scraping on the floor, and I look up to see him in front of me, crouching to be at the same height as me.

The smile on his face grew. "You're beautiful, dear, especially when dealing with all this math," he murmurs, and his hands cup my cheeks, his thumb caressing my face.

"Well, someone has to do the hard work, don't they?" I reply playfully, mirroring his smile. Rhysand leans in, kissing my lips, then my nose, forehead, and finally my cheeks. He continues planting various kisses all over my face, and I'm laughing by the end when he pulls away, looking at me with a loving gaze.

My laughter slowly fades, but the smile remains on my face. "You're my clever and beautiful little thing, dear," he murmurs, planting a final, very slow kiss on my forehead.

Cassian

Waking up early is one of the things highlighted on my list of things I hate and prefer not to do. My routine has always been organized with the goal of waking up as late as possible without disrupting my responsibilities.

And this routine worked perfectly until Cassian and I started living together, and he decided that my routine was somewhat unhealthy, insisting that I should start the day with him. The problem is, my beloved partner has a bizarre predisposition to wake up very easily before the sun even thinks about rising. And he doesn't rest until he wakes me up too.

"Come on, babe, we still need to have breakfast before we start training," his voice muffled as my face is buried under two pillows and protected by a thick blanket. "If you don't get up soon, we'll be late."

"Cassian, how could we be late if the sun hasn't even woken up yet?" Irritation in my voice is palpable, but perhaps the pillows somehow contained that annoyance in their feathers because the Illyrian has the audacity to laugh, a loud laughter that comes from the depths of his chest.

Before I could curse him with every name I know, my blanket is abruptly pulled off my body. As I cling to the pillows, trying to prevent him from taking them away, I feel the mattress shifting and his weight being placed on me. Peeking under the pillow, his forearms are bracing on either side of my body, preventing his entire weight from resting on me. His wings are spread, and a few strands of his hair escape from the bun.

"Are you going to get up, or do I have to take these pillows away too?" His voice is pure amusement, and I'm sure he's wearing that typical smirk of his.

With a very dissatisfied sigh, I push the pillows up, removing them from my face. As I suspected, his smile is evident on his lips, Cassian's face hovering above mine, very close.

I make a face and poke his cheek with my finger. "You really have no fear of death, do you?" Despite my words, the irritation of being woken up so early is set aside for a moment. Cassian's face so close to mine erases any resentment I could have for him being a morning person.

"Not when it's this beautiful," his hand moves, pushing strands of hair away from my face, his features softening. His eyes travel across the expanse of my face, and he's so focused on tracing the contours of my cheeks with his finger that he doesn't realize he's been doing it for a few minutes.

"You're staring, General," I murmur, a playful smile forming on my lips as I see his eyes darken with the title used. His finger doesn't stop caressing my cheek, but his face descends a bit, his lips hovering a few inches from mine.

He whispers to me, his breath mixing with mine, "With a sight like this? You can't blame me." He doesn't wait a second after finishing the sentence to press our lips together, a warm and desire-filled kiss.

My hands grab his hair, and the bun easily unravels as I grip the strands, his mouth dancing over mine as our tongues connect and dance. When he breaks the kiss, it's only because we need to breathe, but he plants soft and quick kisses while stabilizing his breath, then descending and leaving a trail of wet kisses on my neck.

I bring his face up, looking into his eyes, the previous amusement replaced by lust. My arched eyebrow and mischievous smile draw his eyes back to my lips. Before he can kiss me again, I speak.

"I thought we were going to be late for training if I didn't get up soon." The amusement in my voice prompts an eye roll from him in response.

"Screw the training; my only commitment now is with your body." And his lips resume leaving trails of kisses, descending from my neck to my collarbone. Laughter escapes me as his wife reverberates throughout the room, Cassian focusing on kissing me everywhere.

Azriel

Azriel's lips passionately met mine, his hands gripping my waist, pulling me closer. I'm a complete mess; one of my hands supports me on his arm, while the other grabs his hair. My feet barely touch the ground, striving for height to reach his lips. His warm mouth against mine, our tongues entwining, he pulls back just enough to capture my lower lip between his teeth, causing delightful shivers.

His hand moves up to my neck; his thumb rests on my chin, tilting my face upward. His lips trail down, planting a kiss on my jaw and then on my neck. He lightly bites and kisses the spot that never fails to elicit sighs from me.

As he pulls away, I open my eyes, meeting his brown, sparkling eyes admiring my face. His hands cup my cheeks, a small smile playing on his lips. My lip throbs, feeling swollen, yet Azriel gazes at me with such devotion that all I can do is smile back, my heart racing as if it's the first time he's touched me this way. It isn't, but my body seems to forget that in the moment.

Azriel continues watching me, but my attention is momentarily diverted as a bright flash catches my peripheral vision. I turn my head, his hand moving from my cheek to hold mine as I observe stars falling from the sky. They start timidly, but as seconds pass, more appear, the sky glowing with the trails they leave behind.

I love this. I love the starfall, sharing the moment with my partner, and more than that, I love how he still hasn't taken his eyes off me, even though the brilliant sky is far more beautiful and interesting to watch.

"You're staring," I murmur, my eyes still fixed on the sky. Azriel wraps his arms around my shoulders from behind, his wings blocking the wind around us. He places a gentle kiss on the top of my head, then lowers his lips to my ear, whispering in response.

"You're so beautiful; it's hard not to look, my love." His voice in that tone is incredibly sensual, and the shadows dancing on my arms as I hold onto his bring a delightful sensation.

I don't respond with words; instead, I send all the love and warmth I can through the golden bond that connects us. My eyes remain fixed on the stars detaching from the sky above us, but I'm sure he's still trying to study any detail he hasn't memorized yet, even with our closeness.

Feyre

The sun warming my skin is a very welcome sensation, the fabric of the sheet that Feyre and I spread on the grass earlier is a bit disheveled, but I don't mind.

The comfortable silence we're in is filled with occasional sounds of pages turning in my book and the strokes Freyre makes on her canvas. I lie on my stomach, reading the new suspense novel my lovely partner gifted me a few days ago. The story is at a particularly tense point, a crucial revelation is imminent, and I can feel it.

This may have been one of the best ideas Feyre had in the last month. She was recently inspired to paint landscapes and planned an outdoor day. With all the shared love, she asked if I wanted to accompany her. We didn't go far, choosing a spot near the Sidra River. We arrived in the early afternoon and planned to stay until the sun gave way to the moon.

Despite wanting to continue reading, Feyre's gaze distracts me. Giving up on reading, I sit up, looking at her. From my angle, I can't see what she's painting very well, but the paints are still scattered around us, and she's still holding the brush, so I deduce she hasn't finished the painting.

"Baby, you're staring," I stretch, trying to see what she's painting, curious to see her progress, but she quickly pulls the canvas away from my view. The warmth that fills her cheeks as she looks away from me gives me a hint as to why she was staring at me.

A mischievous smile forms on my lips. I lean forward, innocently running the tip of my nail on her bare leg. "You know, when you said you wanted to paint the landscape, I didn't think you were referring to me."

She chuckles at the teasing, rolling her eyes as she mumbles something. She places the canvas in one of the paints, away from my sight, and turns to me, her hand reaching to grab mine. Her finger is smeared with paint, and as she runs it over me, I get stained with the hue she was using, but I don't complain.

"You're too beautiful; it's hard to capture you in a painting," she confesses to me. Her brown eyes meet mine, her freckles reflecting the sunlight and seeming to glow. It's ironic for Feyre to say this about me; the beauty she carries is otherworldly, yet I am the one challenging to be captured in paints.

"Pfft, you can turn anything into the most beautiful art, Fey," I roll my eyes at her, her hand drawing a pattern on mine gently. "But I can be your muse whenever you want. I don't mind how long it takes for you to finish your painting."

She smiles at my response. Her other hand, which previously held the brush, holds my face tenderly, and she stares at me for a few more seconds in silence, studying and analyzing my face, imprinting the details with her eyes and fingertips. When she finishes, she goes back to grab the canvas and the brush, speaking excitedly.

"Alright then, get into a comfortable position. This will probably take some time," she starts mixing colors and dipping them into the brush as I lean back, sitting in a more comfortable way.

When she resumes painting, I'm still laughing, and as the sun sets, giving way to the moon, she remains focused, alternating her gaze between me and the canvas, until she completes her masterpiece.

Nesta

In this, Nesta and I have developed a small tradition in our relationship. At least once a month, we go to any bookstore we choose at the moment, even if we don't plan to buy any books or have only bought a few days ago. We simply go, wander around the store, and talk – sometimes we browse through books on the shelves, other times we just observe. It doesn't matter much what we do in the bookstore; we just go.

That's why the day after I return from a political trip to the Day Court, Nesta wakes me up early. We have breakfast together, then leisurely stroll to a new bookstore that opened while I was away. The place is beautiful and cozy, the smell of books is relaxing, and Nesta's hand in mine brings a sense of comfort. We are almost at the back of the bookstore, in the erotic books section, when one of the covers catches my attention.

"Oh! Helion had this book in his library; I read it while I was there." I release Nesta's hand to pick up the book. The cover is as discreet as the title; at first glance, nothing would indicate the content inside this book, except for the category it belongs to.

I flip through the book, reading some random passages and recalling the story. A laugh escapes my throat as I turn to Nesta and show her one of the excerpts. "Look at this."

Nesta's eyebrow arches as she reads the passage I showed her. A quieter laugh, compared to mine, also escapes her, and her eyes meet mine as she says, "Well, it's a... uninteresting scene."

I nod, agreeing with her, and turn back to the shelf, running my finger over the covers. "I really didn't expect that while reading, although it makes sense when compared to the rest of the story." Then I briefly start recounting the story – how the main couple faced various challenges when together but always had a significant tension between them.

I pick up another book, turning the cover and reading its summary. It seems interesting. "Look, Nes, it's from that new author you were interested in. The story sounds good; it's about..."

When I turn to show her the book I found, she still has the previous book in her hands, open to the page I handed her. Her eyes stare at me with an affectionate gaze, causing my cheeks to flush with the attention she gives me, and I release a nervous giggle.

"Darling, you're staring at me," I murmur, shyness covering my voice. This seems to snap Nesta out of the trance she was in because she blinks, very slowly, and a mischievous smile forms on her lips – a smile that sends shivers down my spine.

She closes the book in her hands, takes the one in mine, and puts both back on the shelf, pulling me close to her. "You look too beautiful when you talk about the books you like," she murmurs, her lips nearing mine.

Her eyes burn with mischief, her hand moves up to my nape, pulling me closer, our lips inches apart. "Tell me more about the book, about all the books you read while you were away," her lips meet mine in the next moment.

Morrigan

Morrigan's dissatisfied murmurs filled my ears as I watched her argue with herself through the vanity mirror about the three dresses scattered on the bed. Smiling at her indecision, I resumed applying makeup, finishing the products on my eyes and cheeks, adding color and life to my face.

Digging into Mor's vanity drawer, I searched for a lipstick to complement the outfit I chose for the night. Once I found the perfect shade, I glanced back at the mirror.

Swiftly applying the lipstick, I examined my face—it was perfect and would be even more so when I put on the golden earring that matched Mor's. With that thought, I sought her reflection and found her staring at me through the mirror with a puzzled look, still undecided on her choice. Turning to face her, still seated on the stool, I raised my eyebrows at her pout, and she scrutinized me with puppy-dog eyes.

"You're staring, babe," I stood up, approaching the bed with the intention of helping her choose her outfit but was interrupted when she pulled me close, pressing her body against mine. Her eyes descended to the lips I had just painted, now adorned with a mischievous smile.

"You're beautiful; I can't help but look," I playfully rolled my eyes, accustomed to her flattery.

She brushed a strand of my hair back, clearing it from my face, and leaned forward, sealing our lips. I got lost in the kiss, engulfed in the passion she radiated. Our mouths moved in harmony; my hand held her face, preventing her from pulling away. We only broke the kiss because we needed air. As her lips moved far enough from mine for coherent thought, I noticed the color on hers.

She furrowed her brows, confused by my exasperated sigh. When I quickly distanced myself and walked back to the vanity, she became even more perplexed. Until I looked at myself in the mirror and realized the chaos my face had become—lipstick smeared everywhere, ruining the makeup I had done.

I groaned and turned to her, attempting to hide a laugh behind her fist, "Morrigan," I whined, "now I have to clean up and redo it."

She approached again, her hands running up my arms and stopping at the base of my neck, her fingertips playing with my hair. "Well, at least I'll have more time to decide what to wear," she chuckled loudly as I huffed indignantly.

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stickthisbig · 1 year

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I've started conducting job interviews at work now? It's terrifying but it turns out I'm really good at it? So if interviewing is daunting, here is my advice from the other side of the table. It turned out to be very long, so here's a cut.

When you apply:

Oh my god please spell check your resume, I beg of you.

Gimmicks absolutely will not help you. You will get so much farther with a resume that is neatly formatted and a cover letter that is straight to the point.

Make sure you count all your experience!! Internships and fellowships count as experience!! The computer system will reject you and I'll never see it in the first place!!

After you've gotten the interview:

If you're trying to get a job in a field you've never worked in (as most of the people I interview are), break down your former employment or experience into the skills you used and keep that information at hand. You used to work in food service? You have experience in delivering an experience at a high quality with basically no margin for error, and you work well under pressure. You were a telemarketer? You have experience at following a workflow and deescalating conflict.

We and every other job WILL be asking you about a. conflict management and deescalation (have examples for how you resolve conflict with coworkers, clients, and bosses) b. personal time management (how you stay organized and on schedule) c. what you do when you realize you can't handle a problem by yourself d. your strengths and weaknesses (see below) Just go on and have an answer ready. You will be asked. There will be questions you're not prepared for. Be prepared for these.

Do a little googling about the company/organization. What will become extremely clear to you immediately is whether they're going to care about you caring about the mission. Some businesses don't. Every non-profit and every government agency does. If they seem like they care, you should pretend to care.

Ask all your questions of the person who is scheduling the interview. I don't recommend trying to figure out who will be your boss and contacting them. Everybody's very busy all the time, none of us are hiring specialists, and we're using the HR staff to act as our buffer. You will look like a nuisance, not a go-getter.

Do look at a map and figure out where you're going. It's vastly preferable to call an hour ahead and say you're unsure where to go than call ten minutes late and say you're lost.

When you walk into the office:

I personally don't give a fast fuck if you come empty handed, but some interviewers HATE that, so definitely bring a notebook and a pen. It's no longer necessary to bring paper copies of your resume. If you're going to interview a lot, may I recommend dropping five or ten bucks on a sketchbook at Michaels or similar? It looks polished and also you can actually use it for things. If you need to write notes to help you remember anything from above, it's okay to write them down. Anybody who would ding you for that isn't someone you need to work for.

If you don't know what to wear: black or khaki pants, nice shirt. Preferably a blazer, but that's optional at entry level imho. Lately I'm finding that the men's sections in thrift stores have better selections? If you've got big hips, you can slit the sides of a men's dress shirt up to your waistline and tuck it in. If you have to come in jeans, wear a belt. If you only have a t-shirt, make sure it's clean and tuck it in. You don't have to prove to me you have money to get this job; you just have to prove to me that you are taking this opportunity seriously by presenting yourself neatly, because you will be expected to be dressed neatly at work.

My sibling in Christ beloved child of God, be polite to every fucking person you see. Oh my god I cannot stress to you how polite you need to be. I cannot believe that this is a thing I have to say, but I sure do! If it's close between you and another person, that snippy comment you made on the elevator WILL lose you that job. Ditto for if they walk you around to meet people. Just be THE politest motherfucker.

When you walk into the room:

When you sit down, what you are looking at is one person who is running the interview, twoish people who are related to your job, and sometimes also someone from HR, unless HR does all the interviewing. One of these people wants to be your hype man. If it's my office, it's me, I'm hype man. I want to have a dialogue with you to see how prepared you are and how good of a communicator you are. I want this interview to go fast and seamless. I'm in your corner. Don't play to the guy who's actively staring off into space. Focus on the interviewer who's most focused on you.

NEVER downplay your own experience. Getting a job you're underqualified for is a problem for future you. If you only have internships, or you only have retail, or you only have food service, or you only have work study, fuck it. You walk in there and act like you've been the goddamn president. The question of your qualifications and the question of your experience are separate. Never act like your experience doesn't count because it's in a "lesser" field.

EVERY. TIME. you are asked about your weaknesses, explain how you have used them for growth. Do not wait to be asked, just slap it in there. One of my biggest weaknesses is giving up control, so I've made a conscious effort to involve other people earlier in the process. If you're not fuckin working on your weaknesses, just try to imagine what would be a good idea. Or maybe work on them? I'm not your dad.

What I am looking for is your ability to answer my questions in a complete and concise way. If you can't give me a specific example, I want you to be able to reflect on your previous work and say "When it comes to X, my experience doing Y is relevant in this way." I am asking you for a synthesis. Most of what I need you to do in this position, I know you've never done. If there is something where I specifically need you to have done X as a professional qualification, there is nothing else you could say that would be right, so you have nothing to lose.

Keep some question in your back pocket for when they ask "do you have any questions for us." It is a hundred percent okay for this to be a softball question, but it's also okay to ask something more probing. You can ask how they handle training, town and gown relations, what the possibilities for employee development are, whether they've done any diversity initiatives, if there's a good work-life balance, what the previous person in the position is doing now, what their strategic planning is like, whatever, just something to prove you're engaged. Do not ask about leave, and do not ask a gimmicky question you saw on the internet. If you can't think of anything, just fuckin ask them how they like working there. That's perfectly fine.

This isn't the time to bring up ADA accommodations. The person who can approve that for you is almost certainly not in the room, and you put us in a super weird position. I am saying this as a person who receives ADA accommodations from my employer and did not disclose my disability when I was hired, as is my legal right. Don't bring it up until you think it would actively prevent you from fulfilling a job requirement or accessing the office. In the before times I had a dude once who called me asking if the building was accessible, because he just wasn't going to interview if it wasn't, and I was just like "...that's fair, my man, but you can come on down."

After the interview:

I fully don't care about a thank you note; I'm unlikely to see it anyway. Some people do. You may send one (1) and ONLY ONE thank you note; generally it should just go to the person who scheduled your interview. Do not, and this is so important, do not email again. I know it is the fucking worst how employers get away with ghosting people but my friend you and I cannot change that. (We do send notices to people who get interviews but don't get the job; people who don't get interviews are informed by the computer system.)

It's gonna be okay. I'm not trying to trick you; I want this to go smoothly, and I want you to demonstrate that you understand how you would use what you've already done to do what I need you to do. I don't want this to be awkward any more than you do. Actually, I want this not to be awkward more than you do, because I have to do this several more times.

#work advice #interviewing #I'm interviewing my new intern in like a week and a half aaaaaaa

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eldritch-spouse · 28 days

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Shags get obsessed with a girl that works at an art store where he gets his supplies. She's laid back and chit-chats with him about any projects he's working on.

[Okay but what if you had a really strange thing going on?]

You like this little freak.

Yeah, okay, that's a bit of a mean thing to say. But can you be blamed? There's no word that fits him more aptly than freak. Not even in the physical sense, there's a lot of variety in mushroom monsters, you know some of them can be tall and gangly like Shags. He's just bizarre.

The way he speaks, moves, conducts himself. You swear, not a single mannerism this monster makes feels natural or reflexive. Even the way he seems to intensely wait and make himself an obstacle until you initiate conversation with him... God, even the fucking topics of conversation, it's like he makes an effort to speak in riddles.

In this rather boring dead-end of a job, seeing this weirdo bend and squeeze through the doors like Samara about to crawl out of the TV is the highlight of your shift.

That's why he's your favorite client.

He's been standing still in the same supplies isle for too long, you already know what he wants.

" Having trouble finding something, Mr Shags? "

As if, he probably knows this store better than yourself.

In fact, he outright told you he used to be a client before you started working here.

He murmurs a response too quietly to interpret, forcing you to come closer. And, predictably, as soon as you are within grabbing distance (not hard to achieve when you're a lamppost of a monster featuring branch-like arms), a spider hand slithers onto your shoulder. It's cold, he's always a little cold.

You're urged in front of a shelf, his head looming over yours.

" Ahh, I need your honest opinion on something... If you don't mind? "

This is the paints section, a mural of hues that hurt the eyes.

" Sure. "

" What shade of orange do you think I should get? "

You love these questions. Because never once does he elaborate on what he's creating or why he wants you to choose. It's happened many times before. What size of canvas should I get? What pen should I get? What sketch books should I get?

You like the strange autonomy of getting to pick, offering him the same level of context he does to you.

Absolutely none.

" Alloy. " You point.

Shags reaches towards it with little effort, snagging several little containers with his root-like digits. The hand on your shoulders tightens.

" What a choice. Thank you very much, my dear. "

" No problem. "

It takes a bit of shifting before the hand on your skin is lifted.

You stroll back to the cash register with a small smile and occasionally observe the monster in the same way you'd study an animal at the zoo.

It's strange how little he moves sometimes. Initially, you thought it was just so he wouldn't drip ink everywhere, but it seems to be a part of him now. Blending in with all his other vaguely creepy mannerisms. Mr Shags gets all his items at a snail's torturous pace and finally, finally approaches you.

" How are the latest projects going, Mr Shags? " You start while scanning the paints first.

The shroom actually seems to frown for a second. Fingers busy on the balcony. " Not as smoothly as I wished... "

Tap tap tap.

" My latest muse and I, our chemistry, I'm afraid it has no substance. "

" Oh? " Your eyes deviate to his face for a moment.

" Yes... Something tells me it's time to move on. But I do want to honor our time together with one last, preserving piece. "

Tap tap tap.

" Mhm. Sounds good, I hope the next one works out. " Frankly, you're not sure what he's talking about, but you usually never are to begin with.

" Me too. " Then he smiles again, and you get the distinct feeling his stare has turned into a more scrutinizing one.

Far from the first time, it doesn't scare you like it did initially.

It's pretty funny, actually. You started out thinking this guy was some kind of loser looking to harass you, to intentionally make you uncomfortable. Nowadays he's more of an entertaining almost-friend.

Tap tap tap.

" Will that be all, Mr Shags? "

" Shags. "

He's told you to call him just by his name a couple of times. You always ignore it, but he keeps trying anyway.

There's a silent beat.

During your first years of work, the lack of action would have made you antsy enough to break the silence, which is what you know he wants you to do. But now, you have no trouble staring back placidly until he continues the conversation.

Apparently, the shroom enjoys that continuous challenge, because his grin widens slowly.

" You have a peculiar facial definition. " He eventually rasps.

A nothing statement, not quite a compliment, not quite an insult, definitely said to confuse and prompt a question. One you don't give him the satisfaction of hearing.

" Thanks. " The customer service smile has an edge of playful smarm this time.

Tap tap tap.

" ... I would enjoy sketching you sometime. Your facial expressions are intriguing. "

This is essentially his way of asking you out, you presume.

" You've drawn me before. "

He's even given you the pages, pencil depictions of you caught in a selection of moments. Mostly bored to tears and staring at the little universe between the cracks in aged walls.

Shags tuts. " It's quite different when the muse in question is part of the experience. I much prefer it that way. "

You can't help the hint of a snicker that tugs at the corners of your lips as you bag his items to hurry things along. Not that there's anyone else inside right now.

" Mm. And what if we don't have good chemistry? "

The shroom monster hands you his card, not even caring about hearing the total.

" I think we both know that wouldn't be the case. "

Tap tap tap.

It's only a few moments of intentionally creating suspense until you hand him all his new belongings and card.

" See you soon, Mr Shags. "

His grin only twitches for a delightful glimpse of a second before he carefully takes his possessions and leaves.

Playing with fire is fun.

One day, you'll get burned.

#Shags oc #tce rp ask

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hisui-dreamer · 5 months

Note

Eyy so can I request for fem!reader headcanons that she has a familiar that is actually the Stitch himself? With first years' reaction (Lol imagine Stitch literately gonna throw hands with Ace during their first meeting and still hold grudges-)

cute and fluffy!

Characters: First Years (Ace, Deuce, Jack, Epel, Ortho, Sebek, Grim)

Synopsis: how the first years get along with your cute and fluffy dog familiar

Tags: mostly platonic but can be romantic (except ortho), stitch!, fluff, crack

Word count: 1.4k+

Notes: definitely should have wrote this back in the summer, buuut now we all get to think of nostalgic summer vibes hehe

Masterlist

bond: 5/10

you can't tell me these two don't argue(?) every moment they have

usually it's ace trying to play a prank on him, get revenge on him

but stitch is way too clever, and always manages to shift all the blame onto ace

ace can try all his might to convince us, but his acting skills are way too flashy to be realistic

just look at those big innocent eyes! how could you accuse him like that, ace!

all the while stitch is just on your shoulder, smirking at ace

though there are times when these two team up, particularly when they're trying to prank other people

riddle and deuce get pranked... a lot

usually it's stitch either playing cute, or messing around to create a distraction for ace

they're a powerful team these two T_T

"Hey prefect! Have a little faith in me, okay?!" Ace says, his eyes wide in disbelief. "It really wasn't me, it was Stitch!" he points towards Stitch, sitting comfortably on your shoulder. You shift your gaze to Stitch, and he tilts his head innocently.

Raising an eyebrow, you look back at Ace.

"Argh! You're getting tricked by him again!"

"Haka taba, ika patootie!" your familiar exclaims.

(How embarrassing, stupid head!)

bond: 7/10

these two get along pretty well!

stitch really admires deuce for trying his best, even if his efforts aren't always visible

it reminds him of himself, so he's always enthusaistic about helping deuce when he struggles!

though... deuce is pretty much fooled by stitch's cuteness most of the time, so he still gets pranked by stitch

only deuce usually doesn't realise stitch was the culprit, and even if he does, he just ends up laughing good-heartedly

they're like the sweet elder brother and the genius little brother omg

"Hm? Oh, hi Stitch," Deuce acknowledges quietly, his gaze fixed on the textbook, unfazed by Stitch's arrival on the adjacent seat. Stitch makes a questioning sound, and only then does Deuce turn to face him.

"Oh, I'm trying to figure this question here," he points to the page. "I just can't get my head around it... How did they get that answer...."

Stitch peers at the page for a moment, then reaches for Deuce's pen, swiftly scribbling away at a scrap piece of paper. Once he's done, he holds it up for Deuce to see.

"Wha-? Wait.. you solved it??" Deuce mumbles. His eyes scan over the page as a sudden realization dawning in his eyes. "So that's how you do it...! Thanks Stitch!" he says as he pulls Stitch in for a hug.

bond: 6/10

omg best workout buddies!!

yeah, he isn't really affected by stitch's cuteness

but his strength??? absolutely

these two love having competitions to see who can lift more weight

im sorry jack, it's stitch, you can't beat my six-armed alien dog familiar

but if anything, this just motivates jack to work on his muscles even more

positive loop i guess??

and stitch joins him sometimes! but he gets frustrated at the equipment easily

so make sure you stop him before he starts throwing things around

his dream is to see stitch and leona having an arm wrestle but we all know that's not happening soon T_T

sibling rivalry vibes fr

"Alright, you want me to move that bookshelf over there right? Where exactly do you-"

Before Jack can even finish his sentence, the bookshelf quickly moves to the other side of the room in a blur of blue, exactly where you wanted it.

"Pitcha! Stitch! Strong! Ahahahaha!" Stitch cackles, rolling on the floor with laughter.

(Done!)

You feel Jack tense up beside you. "Grrrr... Are you tryin' to show off??" he growls. He turned to you, determination evident in his eyes, "Prefect! What else would you like to move? Leave it to me!"

bond: 8/10

epel has a lot to learn from stitch!

anyone with a keen eye can tell stitch is really good at fooling other people with his cute appearance

and many times, he can use it to his advantage! mostly from you, lilia, and floyd who cannot resist the cute and fluffy

the poison apple is always observing stitch to see how he can use his features as his weapon

and stitch very glady teaches epel in alien talk but we've got body language, because epel always brings delicious apple snacks for him!

so you always find epel listening attentively while stitch does some dramatic recreation of a scenario

Perched on a cushion, Stitch begins to act out a scene, the crumbs of apple pie still lingering on his face.

"Uhh... some bad guy caught you in his arms?"

Stitch vigorously nods, then switches to a puppy dog face and executes a jump-kick in the air.

"You acted cute... and then you managed to kick him?"

Stitch nods again, transitioning between a sweet, innocent expression and a fierce, growling one.

"Ahhh... So you shifted between being cute to catch them off guard..." Epel hums thoughtfully. "That's really smart Stitch!"

Proud, Stitch beams, "Stitch! El kiyotay!"

(Good idea!)

bond: 7/10

in the same vein that ortho is a sweet kid who has a mischevious side, he gets along really well with stitch!

he loves how affectionate stitch can be with hugs, and also finds it funny how he can lose his temper very easily

he's also fascinated with the alien stuff, after all, stitch's existence proves there are extraterrestrial beings! he loves expanding on his database

the two of them also love building tiny gadgets out of whatever scraps they find, it's like a competition to see who can come up with a more useful gadget

not to mention, his big bro is dying to meet stitch! a cute alien dog who loves climbing onto other people's shoulders? sign him up!

but his social energy can't... so it's up to ortho to get more interactions with stitch!

"You're so cool Stitch!" Ortho laughs as he takes in the sandcastel Stitch built in seconds. "Idia would be so impressed..."

Stitch makes a inquisitive sound, prompting Ortho to explain, "Oh, Idia is my big brother! He'd absolutely be amazed by you, but he's too shy to make new friends," Ortho pouts.

Stitch tilts his head and asks, "Ohana?"

"Ohana?" Ortho repeats. "You've said that before... it means family right? Yeah, Idia is my Ohana."

"Goobaja! Meet! Ohana!" he exclaims.

(Let's go!)

"You want to meet my big bro?" Ortho asks. Seeing Stitch's enthusiasm, Ortho laughs again, "Hmm... alright then, let's go see him now!"

bond: 2/10

oh boy... these two should not be in the same room together

it all started when sebek was looking for malleus during one of malleus' late night ramshackle visits

and though malleus was endeared by how unstartled stitch was to just casually climb onto his shoulder, sebek certainly was not

"HOW DARE THE CREATURE CLIMB ONTO MY LIEGE'S SHOULDER!!!"

of course, first impressions really do matter, so whenever the two of them see each other...

they hiss at each other. both of them.

though sebek will behave if lilia or malleus are present, but the silence vanquishes almost immediately when they're gone

he will be impressed by stitch's physical strength and speed, just in a more condescending way as compared to jack

"Sebek. isn't it amazing how strong Stitch is? He lifted so many logs at once!" Lilia exclaims admiringly, while Stitch grins smugly.

"Yes., Lilia... It certainly is impressive..." Sebek mumbles, shifting his gaze to a glare directed at Stitch. "...for a creature of such moderate stature,"

Stitch, in turn, growls ferociously back at Sebek. "Meega, nala kweesta!"

"Oh dear..." Lilia sighs. "Young people these days are always so eager to get into fights,"

bond: 4/10

what do you mean his henchman has a familiar?! you're his henchman!!

ahem ahem jealousy

will argue about everything with stitch, and he could be completely wrong but still argues confidently

honestly, stitch finds grim amusing

it's kinda like a 'i don't need to prove myself to you' smug grin

fights about food! always.

stitch your favourite food isn't even tuna, stop bullying grim T_T

but stitch is still a sweetheart sometimes, and will be nice/help grim whenever he can

"Hench-man!" Grim exclaims as he jumps up and down. "Why does that guy get to sit on your shoulder? It's not fair~"

"Grim, didn't you complain when I carried you last time?" you ask.

Grim freezes for a moment. "Well... uh... That's different! I wanna see from high up too!"

Stitch laughs at his response, "Wahaha! Toga meega patookie!"

(Kiss my butt)

"Henchman~" Grim whines.

Sighing, you pick Grim up and have him sit on the other shoulder. Oh, the woes of having two 'familiars'.

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

#twstnexus #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #ace trappola #twisted wonderland ace #deuce spade #twisted wonderland deuce #jack howl #twisted wonderland jack #epel felmier #twisted wonderland epel #ortho shroud #twisted wonderland ortho #sebek zigvolt #twisted wonderland sebek #twisted wonderland grim

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cuti3patooti8 · 4 months

Text

Yawll I was supposed to post this Christmas as a gift for a friend butttt erm I got to embarrassed writing the smut so like it came late.... Enjoy! (Also did not know how to end this to save my life y'all)

Word count: 2.6k

Tattoo artist Bully gojo! who picks on you every day. Bumping into you so you drop your books and have to embarrassingly pick them up while he snickers and giggles at you struggling.

Tattoo artist Bully Gojo! who's just too mean and knocks the books out of your hands the second time to look at ur cute pink and white panties while you bend down.

"Whoops my bad I should watch where I'm going"

Tattoo artist Bully gojo! Who makes fun of your big square glasses and the skirts you always wear to class. "You look like a nerd" Gojo chuckled. "You should stop wearing those nerd glasses to class" Gojo laughed as he took your glasses off your face and dangled them from a height you couldn't reach.

Tattoo artist Bully Gojo! watched your boobs as they bounced trying to jump up and get your glasses back.

｡⁠.ﾟ⁠♡｡⁠.ﾟ⁠♡｡⁠.ﾟ⁠♡⁠｡⁠.ﾟ⁠♡⁠｡⁠.ﾟ⁠♡｡⁠.ﾟ⁠♡｡⁠.ﾟ⁠♡⁠｡⁠.ﾟ⁠♡⁠

You've always wanted a tattoo. Always. You were always scared of getting one until now. You knew that gojo did tattoos in his free time so you gathered up the courage to ask him for one. You went to his apartment after classes were done wearing a white sweater with bows and a pink plaid skirt. Hesitantly you knock. You play with your fingers nervously as you see the white haired boy open the door. "Well look who we have here '' Gojo smirked. "Whatchu want nerd" "Uhm i was wondering if you could give me a t-tattoo" you muttered nervously. "What was that? Couldn't hear you '' Gojo said as he leaned down to hear you better. "Uhm I w-was wondering if you could give me a tattoo gojo" you spoke up looking down at the floor still nervously playing with your fingers. "Of course I can step right in, '' Gojo chuckled. "I mean you know that you're gonna have to pay me right" "yea I brought some money" you muttered again, too nervous to speak up. "Oh no I don't mean like that glasses" Gojo laughed in your face. "Do my homework for a week". "O-okay" you responded meekly just wanting to get it over with. "Who would've thought little miss goody two shoes would want a tattoo" Gojo teased. "So what do you want and where do you want it". You fidgeted in your skirt. Now you were seriously considering backing out, but you decided that you had come this far so you should just get it over with. "Uhm I want one right here" You said pointing to your right hip near your bikini line, "And I want it to say..uhm.. eat m-me" you whispered as you looked down at your feet ashamed. "You're kidding right" Gojo scoffed in disbelief. You sat down on his chair and shook your head. “Then let's get it done” Gojo smiled.

｡⁠.ﾟ⁠♡⁠ ｡⁠.ﾟ⁠♡｡⁠.ﾟ⁠♡｡⁠.ﾟ⁠♡⁠ ｡⁠.ﾟ⁠♡｡⁠.ﾟ⁠♡｡⁠.ﾟ⁠

“Stop fucking moving so much”

“It hurtssss”

“it’s okay baby I'll go slow”

“fuck I can't take ittt”

‘It's the middle of the fucking day and he's already screwing some whore?’

Geto thought as he got his key to open the apartment he shared with Gojo. He braced himself for the sight he was going to see but he didn't prepare himself enough to see you skirt slightly down with Gojo using his ink pen to write something.

“Gojo do you wanna have a smoke sesh with Choso and me later or are you too busy doing” he looks you up and down.

“This”

You perked up at hearing Choso’s name. You've had the biggest crush on him for the longest time and if you could somehow convince gojo to bring you with him you would die of happiness.

“Nah don't worry I can come with you now” Gojo said smirking

“But you're not done!” You exclaimed sitting up.

“Yeah but with the way you were crying like a bitch I thought you might need a break” gojo yawned.

“finish my tattoo pleaseee” you whined. Your begging sounded like music to his ears.

“Don't worry bro I just need to fill in one thing then we can go” Gojo said to Geto as he finished up filling the ‘e’.

“What are you getting” Geto asked as he walked over to see your new tattoo. He burst out laughing after he read it and you turned your head away embarrassed.

“All done princess” Gojo looked up with hooded eyes.

“Don't call me that” you rolled your eyes.

“Wanna come with us”

Score!

“What”

“Wanna come smoke with us”

“S-SURE” you said that too quickly and too loud. “Aw goody two shoes wants to smoke, they grow up so fast” Geto chuckles

You look away from the two of them feeling embarrassed.

｡⁠.ﾟ♡⁠ ｡⁠.ﾟ⁠+♡ ｡⁠.ﾟ♡⁠ ｡⁠.ﾟ⁠♡｡⁠.ﾟ⁠♡⁠ ｡⁠.ﾟ⁠♡｡⁠.

You guys get to Choso’s house and you start feeling nervous. Shit is this a good idea? Well it's too late now… You felt deep in regret but it all went away when you saw Choso open the door.

“Who's this?” He asks with a puzzled face.

“Wait, I know you, you're that nerd in my English class!” He laughs.

“Haha that's meee” you laughed nervously.

“You here to smoke with us or did Gojo bring you to finish his homework”

“Mhm yea where's the bathroom” you said brushing him off getting tired of his jokes.

“Uhh go down and it's on the right…” he trailed off as you pushed past him.

You were getting impatient and really wanted to see your tattoo. It hurts you thought as you pulled your skirt and panties down a little to see. You smiled as you saw that Gojo decided to be nice and add extra things like cute flowers and hearts around the words. You looked in the mirror with a puzzled face as you saw some extra letters. P.S.G you read as you finally made out what it said. “S.G that's Gojo’s initials” You said aloud. “What does the P stand for then?”. You stayed in the bathroom pondering it more. “Property of Gojo Satoru…” “THAT BITCH”. You came out of the bathroom fuming seeing that the boys already started smoking. “DID YOU FUCKING BRAND ME GOJO” “chilll baby everyone already knows you're mine it's not a big deal” he laughs passing choso the joint. “UGH!” you fumed sitting down next to geto. “Hey, maybe you just need to loosen up. I'm sure it's not even that noticeable,” Choso said as he passed the joint to you. You took a hit and coughed like there was no tomorrow. You took two more hits and passed it to geto. “It is noticeable!” You pouted getting up from the couch and pulling your skirt down just enough for him to see the tattoo without seeing anything else. “Oh shit gojo you just ruined her chances of getting a boyfriend!” Choso laughed as he took a closer look. “Not as if she wasn't already a loser, looks hot as fuck though it suits you”. You blushed sitting back down. After a while you all finished the joints and became giggling, loud, messes. You started cuddling into geto because you started feeling sleepy. “Bro I'm hella hungry” choso blurted. “Same” geto nodded in agreement. They both got up and said that they were going to Walmart and they'd be back. You and gojo sat in silence for a while. “I wanna try somethin c’mere” gojo slurred his words as he motioned for you to come to him. You got up and walked over standing up in front of him. “Sit on my lap baby” feeling too out of it to decline you sat in his lap. “I'm tired gojo” you complained. “It's okay baby I'll wake you up”. he reached in his pockets and got another joint. He lit it and took some hits. “Open your mouth princess”. You listened and opened your mouth. He took another hit and brought his lips to yours blowing the smoke in your mouth. You inhaled and laughed. He kept looking at you longingly with hooded tired eyes. “Take a picture, it'll last longer," you mumbled as you got up. He pushed you back down onto his lap. “Need you so bad” gojo whined. “Can you kiss me please baby”. “What?” You stared dazed and confused.

“I dunno how to kiss” you giggled shaking your head not fully comprehending what he was asking you. “Want me to teach you?” Gojo smiled. “Sure!”. Gojo started softly kissing you grabbing your hips. Rocking you back and forth on his clothed dick. He licked your lower lip and you parted your mouth slightly. Feeling hot you grinded on him trying to match his pace. Gojo’s pale skin now a shade of pink. “Mhm baby you feel so good” he moaned. You mewled into his mouth enjoying all the pleasure you were feeling. “Mm wait feel weird” you muttered. “Just let go princess” gojo whimpered. Soon you were cumming from all the friction. “fuckkk yeahh” gojo moaned. “Get up doll”. You slid off his lap standing up. “You ever done this before?”. You shook your head. “Obviously not”. “It's okay princess I'll make it unforgettable” He winked. “Ew don't be cringy”. “Just lay on the couch”. You pull down your skirt and layed back on the couch. Gojo got down on his knees. “Wanted this pretty pussy for such a long time”. He went down wasting no time licking, and kissing, basically making out with your pussy. “Taste so good” he groaned. He rubbed your clit and pushed his middle finger in. “S-shit gojo feels so good”. You rolled your eyes back moaning. “So fucking tight baby” gojo mumbled pushing in another finger. He curled and scissored his fingers finding your g-spot. “Right there gojo please please please please!”. “Fuck you look so pretty like this”. Gojo pulled out his fingers and you whined at the loss. “Gonna make you cum on my dick baby”. He unzipped his pants and pulled down his boxers. His dick sprung up hitting his stomach. Your eyes widened. “No way”. “Turn around I don't want you freaking out” Gojo giggled. You got up and turned around ass up face down. “I'm gonna go slow okay” Gojo said, sliding it in. His tip stretched you out. It hurt so good. He whined finally bottoming out. “I'm gonna start is that okay baby”. “Mhm” you whimpered. “I need a yes or a no baby”. “y-yes”. He started with long deep thrusts. “Fuck your so tight” he threw his head back squeezing his eyes shut. “I'm sorry m’ sorry m’ sorry, so sorry baby” he whined as he sped up to a brutal pace. You tried to speak but only moans came out. Your eyes rolled back and your pussy squeezed around gojo’s cock. You saw stars, you were so close. “Fuck princess why didn't I pound this sweet pussy before”. Gojo kisses up your back. “Gonna let me fill you up babe” he whispered, biting your ear. “Lemme cum inside baby”. “Mhm yes yes pleaseee” you moaned into the pillows. You felt to good too object and definitely way to fucked out to think about the consequences. Gojo pounded into you a couple more times and you were gone. Creaming all over his dick and squeezing him in tight. “Sh-shit shit I'm cumming baby fuckin-” gojo filled you up riding his orgasm out. He pulled out and you whined at the loss. “Let's clean up before they get back”. Gojo walked to the bathroom getting a wet cloth and wiped both of you down. Gojo put on his boxers and sweatpants, pocketing your panties before you could notice. You were about to argue with him when you guys heard the door open.

“Alright guys we were gonna go to Walmart but we realized Walmart doesn't have food… but like it has food but like food you have to cook, and then we realized they had snacks but snacks sounded like gross so we like went to Burger King but then we like realized burger king is ass so then we like went to McDonald's and we just got a shit ton of food so like yeah” Geto rambled on while Choso just modded his head. “Mhm fr”. You and Gojo busted out laughing at how ridiculous they sounded. “Yeah alright let's eat”.

@cinnatoru @hhhhhhcxx

#gojo smut #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #jjk

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