#the goal for tonight is to complete the full outline and then i can start putting it together

[xshinigamikittenx]

The Quiet Game

NSFW Katsuki Bakugou x Fem!Reader

MINORS DNI

You swear this class is going to kill you. With this much of a class load, there’s no time for friendships or romantic relationships, and that’s fine with you. They were just distractions anyway. It’s usually just the attendants and other students completing work studies at the library this late. This is usually perfect on most nights, but today is Friday, and you forgot he would be here...

Thank you SO MUCH to TrashyBee on Twitter for bringing Katsuki to life here. Good lawd 😩

A/N: Whew. Yet another one shot that ran away with me. lmaoooo. Couldn't really help it though, I mean...sheeeeesh. But child, anywaaays...this was fun. :) I'm also hoping you've been to a library and seen what the private study rooms look like, because it's kindof important here 😅 but if not here's an idea. Hope your future library thoughts are full of smut productivity!

9.5k words

CW/TW: semi-public sex, oral sex, clothed sex, vaginal sex, biting, swallowing, light degradation, gagging, fingering, hair pulling, deep thrusts, praise

You swear this class is going to kill you. Why the fuck did you choose to take on so many credits this year? Take more classes at once so you can finish early. The goal from the beginning was to get through university as quickly as possible so you could start making the money you knew would help keep you far away from home. Wealth is not something that runs in your family. Everything you get, you work for, and your degree will be no different. You keep your head down, focusing on one goal, to make enough money to support yourself and live the way you want. With this much of a class load, there’s no time for friendships or romantic relationships, and that’s fine with you. They were just distractions anyway.

Your roommates, however, don’t have that same logic. Some nights when you’re up studying, you can hear them, and whoever they brought back to the dorm moaning, the bed sometimes rhythmically bumping into the paper-thin walls. “Just like that...yes-yes-mmmmore. Ffuck! ” It’s...distracting, to say the least, and frustrating because your body’s reaction constantly betrays your mind's focus. Your thighs clenching together, your pulse quickening; no way in hell you can study in your room, especially not at night.

You shake the thoughts out of your head, looking up at the massive main library, your feet unconsciously moving forward. This is your sanctuary, the place you feel you can be most at peace, and finally give way to the maintained focus you knew you needed. The warm glow of the lights through the windows always makes you feel calm. The cold air whips into you as you push open the door and take in the endless rows and layers of books keeping you company. There’s hardly ever anyone here at this time, a discovery you made one night when you found yourself packing your books in frustration to escape the sounds coming from the next room in the middle of the night.

It’s usually just the attendants and other students completing work studies at the library this semester. This is usually perfect on most nights, but today is Friday, and you forgot he would be here. Your eyes land on his back, surveying him at a distance. The fact that he works here doesn’t quite compute with you. He’s built like he should be throwing a ball somewhere, all broad shoulders and toned arms. The sleeves of his olive green sweater are rolled up, emphasizing the lines and ridges of his toned muscles. It’s borderline irritating how good he looks, entirely focused on a mundane task. His blonde hair is somehow perfectly dishevelled, the lean form of his body bent over the desk, filling out some kind of paperwork while you walk in his direction. Usually, you would try to avoid him; talking to people, in general, is not a specialty of yours, let alone talking to someone who seems to have a short fuse.

You wait for a few seconds, thinking he’s got to know you’re there. He had to have heard the door open, right? But he hasn’t turned around yet, and thinking about actually opening your mouth to speak to him felt like the air was getting sucked out of the building. You were already introverted with high anxiety, and you did not need to feel uncomfortable right now, especially under the looming stress of this project which was due in two days. So you waited, hoping the subtle noises you were making, readjusting your bag, and taking a deep breath, would possibly get his attention. Fuck, this is taking too long; I’ve got to say something. “Um...hey.” Jesus Christ, really couldn’t think of anything better to say? You practically sneer at yourself at how lame you sound, but this certainly got his attention. He turned half of his body towards you, one of his scarlet eyes glaring at you over his shoulder. His face was rather expressionless, betraying the scorching feeling his eyes deliver, making you suddenly self-conscious of what you looked like standing in front of him. You didn’t think about what you were wearing when you left your dorm, throwing on a go-to pair of leggings and the first hoodie you saw before storming out of the overly cramped room, leaving the heavy breaths and moans of your neighbour behind you.

“Oi, you need something? Speak up.” Your face immediately flushed. The heat rising up your neck and blooming across your face, triggering your palms to start sweating. You didn’t think you were unnecessarily quiet; it’s a fucking library. You knew he was an asshole, but what the fuck did you do to him? Before you think about it anymore, you shift your thoughts towards how to respond to him, coming up blank. You grip your bag tighter, your mind racking itself, but the anxiety has already caught hold of you, and it’s as if you're stranded on an island with no help in sight. So you resort to your usual defensive mechanism; you bite back.

“So, what...? You want me to scream to get your attention?” He turns his body toward you, putting the full picture of himself on display. You’ve never been this close to him, actively avoiding him after hearing him ream other students out for being too loud or misplacing books. You didn’t realize how intimidating his stature was until now, being less than six feet away from him.

He wasn’t excessively tall, but his posture would convince you otherwise. Even as he leaned back against the length of the desk behind him, he was still probably a handful of inches taller than you. He lifts his glasses to rest on the top of his almost unruly blonde hair as he speaks, “Can’t say why I would find screaming necessary in a library, but if you need something, you should say it clearly so I can help you and not have to spend five minutes of my time explaining common courtesy to someone who knows better.”

Your annoyance is suddenly replaced with rage at his words. What the fuck? Is he trying to put this on me? Doesn’t he fucking work here? Isn’t it his job to pay attention if someone needs help? You’re even more pissed because you wouldn’t have to deal with this shit if you could study in your room. The constant reminder of your roommate getting railed while you were trying to work made that impossible, so here you are. It’s not like you wanted to ask him for help, but you need access to a private study room, and you have to request it from the attendant. Except for tonight, when you’re pent up and stressed, you have to deal with him. “I wouldn’t have to speak up if you were doing your job, asshole.” Fuck. He’s distracting me. I don’t have time for this. You watch his face as one of his eyebrows lift while he places his large hands on the ledge of the desk behind him, baring the outline of his toned chest stretching the fabric of his sweater. “Now, I know you’re not that much of a dumbass. What do you think I was doing before you walked in here and started wasting my time?” Your eyes widen, inadvertently travelling the length of his body, from the smug ass expression resting on his face to his rippling arms, tense as his hands grip the dark wooden desk. For some reason, this annoyed you even more; why did he have to be insulting and infuriatingly attractive?

His lips curl into a smirk, revelling in the glare you’re aiming at him. Dumbass? Is this asshole for real? At this point, he’s pissed you off past the point of giving a fuck. You would’ve walked away by now if you didn’t actually need his help. But if he wants to play this game, fine. A smug smile spreads across your face as you speak, “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was speaking to someone who was unable to multitask. Your life must be so hard, huh?” He drops his head, laughing as he pushes himself off the desk, taking a step toward you. Your hands grip your bag tighter as he comes closer, lifting his head so his ruby-coloured eyes meet yours. “That’s pretty fucking hilarious coming from someone who’s at the library in the middle of the night on a fuckin’ Friday.” He straightens up, shoving his hands in his pockets as he continues, “Seems more like your life is hard, and you’re just pissed off about it.” His gaze is piercing, attempting to slice through your facade of confidence, but you’re currently too livid to give a shit. You’re done talking to him, you just need to get into the study room and away from this asshole.

“No,” you seethe, “I’m pissed off because I can’t work in my room, I have shit to do, and this conversation is a waste of time.” You lift your head higher, meeting his gaze as he smirks down at you. “Oh, seems like I’m not the only one who can’t multitask then, huh?” He chuckles, watching you as you fold your arms and turn your head, breaking eye contact with him. “I just need one of the study rooms opened.”

“Oh, so you do need something,” he says, his voice dropping as he leans forward, bringing his face into your line of sight, his sharp features coming into focus. “You said it yourself, you wasted my time, so I think you can ask a little nicer than that.” You don’t think you’ve ever wanted to punch someone more than how much you want to punch his perfectly fucking chiselled jaw in that moment. Regardless of how much his face appeals to your more violent tendencies, you realize you don’t have an option. All of this bullshit will have been for nothing if you���re unable to get into that fucking room. Your jaw clenches, your teeth sinking into the inside of your cheek as your eyes bore into him. You make a point not to break eye contact when you speak through the smile you’ve painted on, “Oh, where are my manners...would you...please...open a study room so that I can get away from you?” You smile wider, contrasting the cold glare you shoot at him as he grins, watching your edges fray. He slides one of his hands out of his pocket, assessing you while he tosses the keys up in his hand, the dull metallic sound of their impact in the palm of his hand, peaking your annoyance further. “Well hell,” he says, “it’s about damn time.”

You roll your eyes as he catches the keys a final time, smirking at you before he turns to exit the enclosed space of the front desk. You readjust your bag and look up to follow him, balking at seeing him walk in front of you. He takes a few steps ahead of you, his coffee colored pants clinging to the muscles of his legs as he heads towards the back of the library where the study rooms are located. Fuck, his ass looks good. You’re grateful when you take a glance around you, suddenly conscious of what your borderline heated exchange probably looked like to anyone who could’ve seen it. Not to mention the fact that it probably definitely looked like you were staring at his ass just now. You refocus, remembering that you’re supposed to be following him. You train your eyes on the back of his neck, trying to keep yourself from fixating on his perfectly sculpted form; when you see him turn his head, eyeing you. His gaze travels up and down, then up to meet your eyes before he speaks, “For someone who claims to dislike wasted time, you sure are slow.”

Fuck. Did he catch me looking at him? Your chest tightens at the thought. Just hurry the fuck up and get to the room so you can do what you came here for. You signal your legs to pick up the pace until you’re almost in stride with him and looking straight ahead. You know where the study rooms are; you just need him to open it for you, but why does it feel like it’s taking forever to get there? Your body grows warmer, anxiety still pumping through you from your previous conversation. Now being alone in this giant space in silence is adding emphasis to the fact that you’re practically alone. You try to distract yourself, feigning interest in the books that line the shelves as you walk past them. We’ve got to be close now; just focus on the room. You look ahead, expecting to see the study rooms’ glass windows but instead are met with more shelves of books. What the fuck? Did they move them? How long have we been walking? You glance over at him, accidentally making eye contact because he was already looking at you.

Without thinking, you look away, and then you hear him speak, “Ya know, no ones usually here at this time on a Friday. Don’t you have better shit to do?” Seriously? If he’s going to be a dick, why is he even wasting his breath talking to me?

“Yeah, well, maybe I don’t,” you bite back, too tangled up in your own thoughts to decipher anything less aggressive, “and I don’t want to be here just as much as you don’t want me to be here.”

He continues walking, and you push ahead of him, attempting to put some distance between you. You don’t need him to lead you to the room; the library is only so big. Getting there on your own and waiting for him to open it would be better than dealing with this bullshit. You see him looking over at you in your peripheral vision as you pass him, and he laughs. “You don’t wanna be here, but all of a sudden, you’re in a hurry. A little conflicting, don’t you think?”

You roll your eyes. Fuck off. Is what you would’ve said if you wanted to continue this conversation. He would definitely have something to say to that. “Are you forgetting that I’ve got what you want?” You stop dead in your tracks and spin on your heels to face him, “Excuse me?” He doesn’t even flinch at your raised tone, you could practically hear your own voice echoing around you as he walks up to you, stopping inches away. He’s so close you can smell him, a warm scent of amber and oak catching you off guard as you hold your ground. His lips lilt into a mocking half-smile as he moves his hand towards you to dangle the keys directly in front of your face. “What? You want to get into the room, don’t you?” Your focus shifts from the keys to his crimson eyes, blurring everything else around you as your body reacts to the heat radiating off of his skin. He feels...warm. I wonder - Your gaze drops to his lips, maddeningly curled into a taunting smirk. “Well, now I’m wondering what you thought I was talking about.”

He pulls the keys into the palm of his hand with a metallic snap, the sound almost making you jump as your eyes widen. You find yourself holding your breath as the tightening in your chest climbs up to your throat. Say something. Fucking anything. Your face must tell him everything he needs to know, because he doesn’t wait for a response. “How’s this, I’ll let you off the hook if you tell me why you’re here, dealing with my bullshit, when you could be studying in your dorm.”

This is none of his fucking business, but it’s easier to answer than the previous question, so fuck it. “I can’t focus there.” He raises an eyebrow at you, clearly not satisfied with your answer. You roll your eyes and sigh, “It’s just...noisy. I can’t think straight.”

He laughs at your response, “Yeah I can see that you're easily distracted.” You feel his eyes hovering over your body before meeting your gaze and shifting his weight to start walking again. You take a deep breath, silently relieved that whatever the fuck that was is over. “There’s this invention,” he says as he walks ahead of you “called headphones, ever thought of using those?” You shoot daggers into the back of his head as he turns the corner and you see the study rooms up ahead. Thank fucking god. He sifts through the keys as he walks, locating the one he needed to open the door. His hands move to slide the key into the lock, “Tch. Unless you’ve got roommates that are loud when they fuck. Headphones might not help much.” You know this is a joke but the heat spreading through your face, and the way your body tenses up catches his attention. “Did I strike a nerve,” he asks, smirking at you as his hand grips the door handle.

“Just open the door.” He raises an eyebrow and you release an exasperated sigh, “Please.”

He swings the door open, holding it open as he waits for you to walk through. Finally. I can get this asshole out of my face and work. You walk towards the door, and you notice he isn’t moving. I can hold the door on my own. Why is he still standing there? As you move you eye the entrance to the room, realizing you’re going to need to get insanely close to him to get through the doorway. Fuck it. Just slip by him and move on. “Listen, I don’t bite,” he says, noticing your moment of hesitation with a sly smile. You roll your eyes, making a point to look him in the eyes as you attempt to get by him. His piercing gaze slices through you, stoking the flames within your core you’ve been harnessing all night; fuck, maybe all semester. You fail to keep the flush from blooming across your face, turning your head away from him as you attempt to brush past him. You can feel him watching you, it feels like heat is emanating from his skin, pulling you closer as you hear a low voice directly in your ear, “Unless you want me to.”

What? It was a split second that you were close enough to hear him. Your breath catches as you finally make it past him, his words echoing in your head. Did he just-? You turn around to face him, “What did you just s-“ but he was already leaving, walking back towards the front of the library, probably to finish working on whatever the hell had him so focused when you arrived earlier.

You turn away, your back towards the floor to ceiling window of the small room as your mind reels from the last thing he said to you. I swear I heard him correctly. But why would he say that? Am I fucking crazy? You mindlessly unpack what you need out of your bag and sit at the desk, trying and failing miserably for almost an hour to focus on your work. You find yourself repeatedly scanning the same page because you can’t stop yourself from looking over your shoulder to see if he’s nearby. You nibble at the tip of your pen, looking at the book in front of you and unable to comprehend a single thing. Your oral fixation is running rampant and your thoughts are nowhere near where they should be when the image of his lips slip into your head. What do they taste like? Your body reacts to the thought, squeezing your thighs together as your core tightens imagining his hands gripping your skin, his teeth sinking into you. Fuck. Fuck!

You turn your head again, wondering if there was any way he would be looking in your direction; his thoughts riddled with the same infuriatingly erotic images on a loop in your head. Then, you see him. His back towards you as he holds a stack of books in one arm to place on the shelves. Your eyes travel down the length of his body, the lines of muscle subtly evident through his clothes. You watch him as he reaches up to a particularly high shelf, and his sweater lifts just enough to see the definition of his lower back. Heat is building inside you, the stirring in your core causing your walls to clench, thinking about raking your nails across his back. Ffuuck...NO. Get your fucking shit together. Why would he want to fuck someone who has nothing better to do than study on a Friday night? Fucking focus. You try to gather your thoughts, but must’ve mistakenly zoned out while you were looking at him, because as soon as your eyes refocus you see his head turned in your direction, one cinder red eye smoldering into you.

Fuck! Your body stiffens, unsure what else to do besides just go back to pretending you were working on this project. That’s basically what you’ve been doing since you sat down anyways. And for what? Just for you to embarrass and distract yourself just enough for this entire ordeal to be a colossal waste of time.You start to gather your things, applying more force than necessary to shove everything back into your bag. Fuck this. I haven’t gotten anything done and it’s been two fucking hours. I should’ve just stayed in my room, used my vibrator and moved on. At least I would’ve been able to think straight.

“You must do that often, huh?”

Your eyes widen and you immediately turn your body towards the source of the voice coming from the doorway. Your eyes land on his waist, then to the large hands in his pockets as he seems to take up all the remaining space in the room. You catch a glimpse of the student ID on the lanyard threaded through his belt loop. Katsuki Bakugo. You didn’t even bother to check the picture before you looked up, eyes connecting with the same asshole smirk you’ve been replaying in your head since you sat down. I didn’t say all of that shit out loud did I?

“What are you talking about,” you snap. You really don’t feel like playing this game with him. You already made up your mind that you were leaving, there was no way in hell you were going to stick around to get made fun of. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Ha. That’s a good question,” he takes a step, crossing the length of the room to lean against the desk inches away from you. “I have a better question though. How long have you been watching me instead of working?”

It feels like your brain short circuits. Did he catch me looking for him earlier? Fuck!

“I-” it suddenly dawns on you that the only way he would’ve seen that is if he was looking at you. You just didn’t see him.

You smile up at him, crossing your arms as you lean back in your chair. “The only way you could even think that, is if you were watching me. So you tell me, Katsuki, how long was it?”

He grins as he places his hands on the edge of the desk on either side of him and leans down towards you, his face inches away from yours. His eyes hold your gaze, his crimson eyes blazing like an unhinged wildfire as he speaks, “See, it’s my job to watch you. I work here, dumbass,” he says, his eyes dropping down to your chest as you cross your arms even tighter. God, I’m such an idiot. Of course he’s watching me because he has to. What the fuck was I thinking? Further embarrassment creeps across your face at the thought of even considering that he wanted you. Then, he leans in closer, the sound of his voice a warm whisper against your ear as he speaks, “What’s your excuse?”

You almost stop breathing. Your thoughts frantically trying to come up with something; anything that wasn’t the truth. You come up blank, your expression must’ve given him the answer he was looking for, because he laughs. He laughs in your face, and as much as you want to be completely pissed off, you’re distracted by the glint of the piercing poised in the center of his tongue. Fuck.

Subduing his laughter he sits up just enough to look down at you, raising an eyebrow as he smirks, “You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you? That I was watching you because I wanted to?” You glare at him, the all consuming mixture of rage and embarrassment spreading through you as your face flushes. Your nails are digging into your arms so hard that you can feel it through your sweatshirt. You can’t think of a single thing to say, but your mouth moves without thinking.

Your eyes connect, and you spit out exactly what your mind is silently screaming, “Fuck off.” You make sure you don’t look away, pointedly challenging him to say anything remotely clever in response. The grin spreading across his face is the first sign that you’ve lost that challenge.

“Pretty nasty mouth for someone who’s in the library more often than her own room.”

You flare up, everything you’ve been holding in boiling over as you bite back at him, “You don’t know shit about me,” your voice is tight, and growing louder as you let the words spill out of your mouth, “I’m here all the fucking time because I can’t deal with the fact that I have to watch everyone around me have a life while I bury myself in school. I don’t have friends or shit else to do because I don’t have fucking time. I just want to get through this hell so I can finally just do what I want! So could you, please, get the fuck out of my face so I can go.”

“The door’s right there, you could’ve left a long time ago, but here we are,” he says, his smirk dripping with sarcasm.

I’m so fucking done with this shit. You move to get up, grabbing your bag off of the desk as you turn towards the door. Your hand is reaching for the doorknob when you hear his voice again.

“Did you not hear me?”

“Loud and fucking clear. I’m leaving aren’t I?”

“For someone who’s so fucking smart you really are a dumbass,” he says, standing as he takes a step towards you.

Why haven’t you left yet? Why haven’t you opened the door and - It hits you. You replay his words in your mind, picking up on something you were too pissed off to realize until this moment.

You turn around to face him, and you’re eye level with his shoulders, inches away from you. The warm amber scent of him enveloping you as your gaze travels up his neck to the angle of his jaw, finally making eye contact as you speak, “How would you know I’m here more often than my own room?”

“Tch. Like I said before, I work here,” he says, before moving closer, the heat of his breath brushing against your face as he continues, “but I’ll admit getting to see you makes my job less shitty.”

Your chest tightens, the fluttering in your core enough to make your pulse quicken as your lips part slightly.

He’s watching your face, smirking as your body tenses up when he closes the space between you. “But if you really want to leave...” he whispers against your skin, careful not to touch you as you look up at him with pleading eyes. He brings his lips a breadth away from yours, dropping his gaze to your mouth. “I’m going to fuck you on the desk.” he says, his hands still in his pockets as his words melt into you, “If you don’t want me to, tell me right fucking now.”

He’s so close to you, all you had to do was tilt your head up just a little more and your lips would touch. The thought invaded your mind, your breath catching in your throat as your body reacted to his words, tightening your core to the point of aching. You lift your eyes to meet the heat of gaze as you speak, “Do it, then-“

“Fucking finally,” he growls, his voice raspy and low as he makes contact, his lips moving against yours as the palms of his hands travel up to your face. They slide into your hair at the nape of your neck, collecting it in his fist, while the other hand grips your hips. He pulls you into him, moving you against the wall adjacent to the door. Your back meets the wall, the impact strong enough to make sound and your mind is blank. The feeling of his hands, his lips, his body pressed against yours, overwhelming your senses as you grasp onto the fabric of his sweater. His kiss is hungry and breathless, low groans vibrating against your lips as his pierced tongue slips between them, tasting the heat of your wet mouth.

You whimper into him, your body on fire from the inside out as the thin thread of self control you have left is priming to snap. His lips curl up into a smirk at the sounds lilting out of you and a growl ripples through him as he bites your bottom lip hard enough for you to open your eyes. He releases you, his breaths heavy as he presses his forehead against yours. His scarlet irises bore into you as he speaks, “We’re going to have to do something about all that fucking noise you’re making,” he smirks, his eyes traveling from your swollen lips to your legs, taking note of how tightly you’re clenching your thighs together. “You’re a mess already aren’t you?” His breathy laugh brushes against your face as he pulls away hooking his index fingers into the waistband of your leggings and tugging just enough for them to snap back once he releases.

A soft gasp escapes your lips at the impact against your sensitive skin, the heat pooling between your thighs as your insides clench. Your body is screaming, begging for him to touch you and your mouth moves on its own. “Please,” you whisper up at him, your hands finding the hem of his sweater as you spread your fingers against his skin, feeling every ridge of hardened muscle beneath it.

He drops his gaze down to your hands as your fingertips explore the surface of his skin. A low rumble vibrates through his chest, as his eyes sear into you, “Don’t forget, you fucking asked for this.” His hands move, pulling your sweatshirt over your head and dropping it onto the floor before he leans into you, pushing his leg between your thighs while he holds both your wrists in one hand above your head against the wall. His other hand grips your hip, his fingertips digging into your skin as his lips meets your neck.

You start to move against him, trying to get a taste of the friction your body is aching for while he teases your neck with open mouth kisses. His breath is hot against your skin, teeth sinking into you, as low groans escape his lips. He feels so fucking good and you haven’t been fucked in so long you might cum before he even gets to feel how wet you are. His lips move up to your ear, his voice low as his breath caresses your skin, “You’re riding my thigh like it’s something else, baby girl.” The hand gripping your hip slides under your shirt as he speaks, palming your breast while he kisses the space behind your ear. His teeth graze against your skin as a rippling growl erupts from him, pulling a whimper from your lips while your pussy grinds against his thigh.

You can feel the length of his hardening cock against your leg as you press yourself against him. He pinches your nipple, igniting every nerve in your body as he grins against your skin, feeling your body bend for him. A gasping moan escapes your lips, the sound filling the space around you as your head drops back against the wall. He pulls his head back just enough to watch your reaction; your eyes squeezed shut as your whines spill from your open mouth. “I can feel your pussy clenching for me, y/n,” he says, his lips trailing down your exposed neck as his hand moves to your other hardened nipple. The pressure he applies is sharp and delicious causing every muscle in your body to tighten, your panting breaths mingling with his hums of satisfaction as he feels you on the edge of unraveling at his touch.

“Fuck...ha...hahh...Katsuki...” You’re on your tiptoes relishing in the feeling of his teasing fingers as your insides coil imagining the feeling of him stretching you out. He grinds against you, his arousal pressing against your leg as your nails dig into the palms of your hands. “Mmm, You’re so fucking sexy, so desperate for this fucking cock aren’t you?”

Your lips are moving before you think, your mind consumed with the heat swelling inside you, “Yes...yes...please.” You lean forward in an attempt to meet his lips but he pulls away, releasing your hands as he moves to grip your hips. You let out a small yelp when he picks you up under your ass, and turns to put you on top of the desk. His hands slide down to the crook of your legs as he stands between them, eyeing you beneath his lashes when he speaks, “Pull them down.” You lean back, searching his face as you try to collect your thoughts. You must’ve taken longer than he wanted because he leans in, placing his hand on the wall behind you as his crimson eyes burn into yours, “You’re taking your sweet fucking time, and you’re already soaked down here?”

His fingers move to your warm center, feeling your arousal soaking through your leggings as he presses circles against your aching clit. Your legs involuntarily squeeze around his hips as his hand drops from the wall to grip a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back to make you look at his face as his voice drops, “Spread...your fucking...legs.” Your pulse quickens, your blood heating up as he slows the pace of the pressure he’s circling around your clit and you whimper up at him, giving into the ripples of pleasure coursing through your body.

You want more, you lean back on your hands, hips moving to the rhythm his fingers play against your drenched core as your pleading eyes meet his gaze. You’re in a fucking library, in a room with a huge ass window. But the thought of someone seeing you makes your pulse speed up, sending a heightened thrum of pleasure streaming through you, “Hnnngh...ffuckk…” your hips move faster, cloying for more pressure, more friction, more feeling. Katsuki notices your body’s reaction, tightening his hold on your hair, causing your eyes to squeeze shut from the slight prickle of pain. “You wanna cum so fucking bad don’t you? That pussy of yours is begging for this fucking cock.” All you can do is pant in response, your eyes opening to see his face, smirking down at you as his fingers push harder, “Show me, show me how much you want it so I can see that dripping pussy.”

A breathy moan slips out of your throat as you sit up to push the fabric of your leggings down to your ankles. Katsuki releases his hold on your hair, watching your every movement as his gaze drops down to the essence glistening against your swollen lips. You hear his sharp intake of breath, the air hissing between his teeth as his eyes hungrily take you in before he meets your gaze again. His hooded eyes are a shadowed crimson, the heat rising up to your cheeks as you squirm beneath him.

One of his hands moves to grip the top of your thigh, the pads of his fingers digging into your skin as he slips two fingers from his other hand into his mouth. Your pussy tightens, watching him give his fingers a gentle suck as his gaze locks onto yours. The image is lethal, your breath catching at the sight of his wet fingers sliding past his lips and dropping to your aching pussy to tease your entrance. “Fuck, you’re so fucking wet baby,” he hisses between his teeth, as he pinches your clit, the pressure enough to pull a gasping moan from your throat.

Your eyes flutter closed as you stifle a moan and lean your head back against the wall. His fingers maddeningly toy with you as you hear him unbuckle his belt. Sheer curiosity makes your eyelids hover open as you look down, taking in the size of him, his hand wrapping around his thick shaft and gliding over the prominent veins to his cherried swollen tip, dripping pre. You want to taste him so badly, your mouth begins to water and all you can think about is feeling his throbbing cock inside you. You don’t give a fuck if it barely fits. Your pussy clenches at the thought, wordlessly begging to be stuffed to the brim.

A low growl ripples through his chest, “I don’t even have to look at your face to know your pussy’s begging for this cock.” He thumbs the throbbing head of his dick, swirling the pre around his tip while his eyes bore into you. You couldn’t look away from his gaze if you wanted to, even as his fingers leave your aching core to pull you down with a rough tug at the crook of your legs, forcing your ass to the edge of the desk. He leans over your body, bringing his face inches away from yours, sliding a pre soaked thumb into your awaiting mouth flattening your tongue against his calloused finger. You wrap your lips around it, gently sucking and swirling your tongue, tasting his arousal for the first time.

A low moan rises from your throat, vibrating around him as you watch his eyes darken. He presses down against your tongue, forcing your mouth open as he growls, “Mmm you’re a naughty little slut aren't you...” His words send your insides fluttering, your hands balling into fists as your muscles tighten, your walls clamping around nothing but air as you pout. You don’t give a fuck anymore. Someone could stand directly in front of that massive fucking window and record the whole fucking thing. It doesn’t matter. You want him, right fucking now. You roll your hips, grinding your wet pussy against his hard cock. His dick twitches in response grinding through your slit and hitting your clit sending a simpering moan spilling from your open mouth.

You feel him press harder against your tongue and his voice drops, “Such a fucking tease,” he slides his length through your swollen lips, his heat seeping into you as he whispers, “You want this fucking cock? Let’s see how quiet you can be and maybe, I’ll let you cum.” He releases your tongue, slipping his hand under your shirt to swirl his slick fingers around your nipple. You bite your lip, attempting to silence the whimpers rising from your throat as your back arches at his touch, your hands craving to touch him. You reach up, sliding your hands under the fabric of his sweater as you drag your nails down his back. A guttural growl emanates from his chest as he ruts against you, every ridge of his thick cock sliding into your clit.

You can feel yourself melting beneath his hands, his fingers tugging at your nipples as his body moves down leaving soft bites and licks in his wake. The heat of his breath and the cool kiss of the metal stud in his tongue meets your dripping center and it’s enough to send goosebumps flooding across your skin. In one swift motion he’s on his knees between your legs, the back of your thighs resting on his shoulders and his hands gripping you to pull your plush wet lips closer to his smirking mouth. Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m not going to be able to- “Shhhh,” you watch his lips as he smiles, looking directly at you. You swallow the moan threatening to escape your lips but your shallow breaths are giving you away, he fucking knows I won’t be able to take this...

Then, he’s inhaling you, his tongue slipping into your clenching pussy, licking from your entrance to your clit while he looks directly into your eyes as he pulls away, “Fuck. You taste so fucking good.” His voice is heated and low, the evidence of your arousal glistening on his lips as he speaks. The image sends your insides fluttering, your muscles tensing down to your toes as your legs attempt to constrict around him. You’re squirming already but he’s got you pinned, wide open and spread out, at the mercy of his vicious fucking mouth.

He doesn’t give you a chance to catch your breath before he’s latching onto you, his hot wet tongue delving into your silky walls as his piercing vibrates against you with even the slightest groan. You gasp for air, eyes squeezed shut, fingers intertwined in his hair you grind into him, completely blissed out and swimming in the waves of pleasure ebbing through you with every flick and suck. You’re a fucking mess, trying to maintain some modicum of control as he mercilessly swirls his tongue around your pulsing clit. His teeth nestle around it, gently rolling your bundle of nerves between them as he flicks his piercing against you, pulling a low groan from the depths of your core.

He growls, licking your pussy from your clenching entrance to your base of your clit before he looks up at you, “How am I gonna fuck you if you can’t keep quiet with just my fucking tongue, hmm?” The loss of pressure makes you whine, you’re so fucking close. He smirks at you, one of his hands releases your thigh, dropping down to push two of his thick fingers into your warm weeping center. His eyes follow his movements, watching as you take him in, curling his fingers to brush against your most sensitive spot as he slides in and out of you. It’s too much, but you choke down the sobbing whimper cloying in your throat. Your legs shake, breasts heaving as your panting breaths quicken with every thrust of his fingers. You’re biting your lip so hard to keep quiet you might draw blood, but you lean back, putting your weight on your hands to lift your hips and roll into him, letting his long fingers push deeper inside you.

You clamp down around him, your body begging for more; more feeling, more friction, more pressure, you want every little piece of it. You’re at the edge of your control, your mouth falling open in a silent moan as your eyes flutter closed and your head falls back. You can feel him watching you, humming his approval as his other hand releases your leg, “Mmmm, such a good fucking girl with this greedy fucking pussy. You wanna cum for me don’t you...?”

“Yes-yess, pleeease...haah-fuck, FUCK.”

He breathes a soft laugh over your sopping pussy before he devours your soft lips hungrily, lapping up your slit as the rhythm of his fingers speed up.

“Hnnngh...hah-haah, please-fuck, fuck, fuck!”

He’s drowning you, your senses overflowing with the feeling of heat through your body, pushing you to the brink of release. Your pussy clenches around him, his tongue sending sparks through every nerve, punishing you with his thrumming piercing as he moves to sit up on his knees, pushing further into you. He knows you’re close; his hand slides up your body, his nails dragging across your skin until he reaches your lips, sliding two of his fingers into your panting mouth.

He moans into you, making his piercing vibrate faster. Your mouth waters as you wrap your tongue around his fingers, nibbling and sucking on them. You’re a mess, unable to conjure anything except slurred muffled groans around his thick fingers. His lips pull away just enough for you to feel him growl at you.

“Cum for me, right fucking now.”

Fuck...fuckfuckfuck! Your body reacts to his words, wrapping both hands around his arm, digging your nails into his skin as your climax crashes into you. You’re struggling for air but you don’t need it, the blinding light behind your eyelids rippling with the waves of pleasure imploding from your core. He doesn’t stop, his fingers milking your insides, extending your orgasm for everything you’ve got until he slips them out of you, only to delve into your tightening entrance with his tongue, lapping up every drop of your cum.

“So fucking sweet,” he breathes, slipping his fingers out of your mouth, using both of his hands to push the back of your thighs up, inhaling everything you have left as the last tremors spiral out of your body. Eyes closed, floating in the afterglow of your release, you feel him pull your legs back down as he stands in one swift motion. He grips the top of your thighs, roughly tugging you down until your throbbing core kisses the ridges of his dick. Your eyes snap open. Fuck, he’s fucking huge.

Your expression must’ve voiced your thoughts because he expels are a breathy laugh, “You feel that don’t you, how fucking hard I am from tasting your perfect fucking pussy.” His cock twitches against you and your hips roll into him as you moan, gripping the edge of the desk with both hands as you look up at him. Your legs wrap around his waist, tightening from the flush of heat emanating from your core. You want him inside you, to feel the mind numbing combination of pleasure and pain as he stretches you out.

Your voice is a whimper, “Katsuki….please.” You continue to grind against him, your arousal and his dripping pre making you slick and hot. A guttural growl rips through his chest as he leans over you, the palm of his hand slamming on the wall as he brings his lips to your ear. Your body stills, your breaths coming in shallow pants as his muscle toned body presses against you, “Please, what? Tell me what you want, y/n.”

His tongue flicks at your neck, making your words come out in gasps, “Fuck...fuck me...please, please…” Your hands glide beneath the fabric of his sweater, splaying out to pull him closer into you while your nails dig into him. Your back bows off the surface of the desk, tightening your legs around him trying to gain more friction to appease your swollen clit.

“Be a good girl,” he breathes into your ear, “ and control that pretty mouth of yours or I’ll have to do it for you.”

You bite your lip, your need for him coiling inside you as you feel him push himself up far enough for you to feel him hovering over you. Your eyes meet and his hand moves to position himself into you. The head of his cock presses against your soaking entrance, slowly slipping into you as you fight the low moan rising from your throat. He hisses between his teeth as he watches you, “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight.” Both of his hands press into the desk, his arms caging you in, as he looks between your bodies, watching himself ease into you inch by inch. He’s already stretching you out, your velvet walls clenching around him as his wet cock slides inside of your clenching pussy. The muscles in his arms tighten, his body tensing as he begins to move his hips, pushing further into you.

“You’re clamping down on me and I’m not even all the way in yet,” he smirks at you, watching your face flush as your pulse quickens. Fuck...he’s going to fucking break me. But you’re too far gone, you want him, and your body speaks for you, lifting your hips as your nails claw into his back. A growl rips through his chest as his head dips, bringing his forehead to yours, “You want it? Okay then…”

Before you’re able to take another breath, he snaps his hips, pulling a yelp from your mouth when he bottoms out inside you. “Fffuck, you feel so fucking good.” You’re whining, struggling to accommodate his size but relishing in the mind numbing feeling of fullness your pussy was already becoming addicted to. “Not so cocky once that pretty little cunt is fucking full, huh?”

The only response you can offer is a whimper as he starts to move. He rotates his hips, grinding deeper into you, the tip of his cock brushing against your cervix. You turn your head, your eyes squeezing shut as you try to stifle the sounds rising from your throat. Your open mouth meets his arm and your teeth sink into him as he pulls out just enough to slam back into you hitting your limit. It takes everything in you not to cry out, but the pain is dulled by the overwhelming feeling of pleasure each deep powerful thrust rains down on you.

“Haah-hah, fuck baby, you’re taking me so well.” His movements find a rhythm, rolling his hips again and again filling you to the brim with every snap. The curve of his cock pushes his tip against your most sensitive spot, stirring your insides, making your body temperature rise with every panting breath. The feeling is intoxicating, drunk on the way your bodies move together, every nerve firing, desperate to drink him in more. You roll your hips, taking the full impact of every merciless thrust, your breath hitching as you choke back a sob. Your nails drag across the span of his back as you hear him hiss through his teeth. His muscles tense, back arching as a growl vibrates through his body. “Ah- FUCK. Ooooh, you want it don’t you. Yeah? You want it?”

“Katsuki, please, I want- I want more.” You’re a sputtering mess, your walls fluttering around his hard cock as he pushes off the desk, gripping your thighs in both of his massive hands. He pulls you further down bringing your ass off the edge of the desk. Your body is completely at his mercy as he pushes deeper into you, his fingertips digging into your skin as his pace speeds up. You don’t have time to adjust to his movements, he drives into you, snapping his hips, impaling you over and over.

“Ahh-ah-fffucckk,” you moan, failing miserably at staying quiet, it’s fucking impossible. It feels too good, you’re too full, overflowing with the sensations pulsing through your body. You grab onto the edge of the desk, fingers gripping the wood as his heavy sack smacks against your ass. “Mmmm,” he growls, What? Can't fucking take it? Fuck- cant control that slutty fucking mouth can you? Pussy drooling all over my fucking cock.” He lifts your shirt with one hand pulling it up to your open mouth and you immediately bite down, the fabric doing everything it can to muffle your stuttering moans.

“That’s right. Such a good fucking girl,” his fingers trail down your body, groping your breasts, pinching your nipples as every ridge of his cock fills all the space you have inside you. “Fuck- your so fucking sexy baby- you wanna cum don’t you...keep biting down on that fucking shirt.” You’re so close, so fucking close, the coil in your core threatening to snap. He feels you clamp down on him, moving one hand to press down on your stomach and the other to your throbbing clit.

The pressure pushes your spot against his dick, his punishing thrusts slamming into it every time as he rubs maddening circles around your clit. “Hnnnnf-hnnnngh!” Your shirt muffles your sobs as you squeeze your eyes closed, the tears prickling at the corners as your back arches, your head thrown back as far as it can go. “Fuck yes- cum on this cock baby...cum for me.”

His words are your undoing, any ounce of control you have left exploding into the myriad of colors flashing behind your eyes. The thin thread at the base of your spine snaps, catapulting you into the stratosphere, overheating and gasping for air. The feeling saturates you, expelling any and every thought your mind could attempt to conjure. You squeeze your legs around him, every muscle in your body tightening as your pussy clamps down on his throbbing dick.

“Fuck- FUCK-mmmm, get ready to swallow every drop of this fucking cum baby.” His voice washes over you, the waves of your orgasm still rippling through your body as you feel him slide out of you. He hooks a finger in the neckline of your shirt, pulling you to sit up as he steps back between your legs. Your eyes land on his straining cock, slick from your arousal and the dripping pre his hand is fisting up and down his shaft. “Open...your fucking…mouth.”

You want to taste him, your mouth waters watching his cock twitch in his hands. Your body is so fucking spent, your legs would give out if you tried getting on your knees. You push your ass back, hinging at the hips and leaning forward, looking up at him through your lashes as you hold your tongue out of your open mouth for him. “Ughggh, fuck,” he groans, watching you as the heat from your breath caresses his dick.

His hand moves faster, his breath catching as his muscles tense. “Fuck-FUCK- you’re so fucking sexy baby, you’re gonna take all this fucking cum aren’t you...yeah? Show me...wrap those lips around my dick baby.” Your insides flutter as you swirl your tongue around the swollen pink head of his cock, tasting the mixture of his pre and your arousal. You inhale the intoxicating scent of him before hollowing your cheeks and taking in as much of him as you can. “Hah-haah, just like that baby-FUCK.” He moves his hand from the base of his dick to the back of your head, your eyes widening as he starts to thrust into your mouth.

His other hand rests under your throat, holding you still while he face fucks you. A low moan rises in your throat, vibrating around his cock as his uneven breaths melt into groans and hisses. “So fucking perfect,” he’s panting, his voice raspy and rumbling, “Taste your slutty fucking pussy on my cock baby?- haah-hah- all this cum I’m gonna shoot down your throat’s cus’ve you.” He’s thrusting harder, his pace speeding up as he stretches you out, hitting the back of your throat. You gag around him, your saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth as tears begin to fall, “Choke on that cock baby, that’s right- take - all of it- fuck, Fuck-FUCK!”

The hand on the back of your head fists your hair as he throws his head back, all of his muscles tensing up as he bucks into your mouth spraying hot thick ropes of cum down your throat. You swallow every drop of him, his chest heaving with his heavy breaths as he slides his dick out of your mouth and pulls your hair, making you sit up. His lips crash into yours, his tongue lapping into your mouth, tasting the remains of your combined arousal. He releases the grip on your hair, bringing his hand down to your cheek. His touch is surprisingly gentle as he pulls you in further, sighing into you before he pulls away.

You look up, your gaze meeting the smirk on his face before noticing the smug fucking look in his eyes. You roll your eyes, curling your lips into a grin, “What’s that look for?”

“You had a hard time staying quiet in public,” he says, smiling mischievously at you. “I’m wondering what you’d sound like if I fucked you somewhere else.”

Your eyes narrow. How is he still such a sexy fucking asshole. “I wouldn’t mind testing that theory,” you say, smirking as you lean in, looking up at him, legs dangling off the desk.

"Tch," Katsuki eyes you, his scarlet eyes scanning your body as he steps out from between your legs, pulling his pants up and buckling his belt. He looks over at you, "Then, I don’t know what you’re still sitting there for. I’ve gotta clean up the mess you made.”

You grin at him, the irony of him fucking you until your neighbors can hear you screaming almost makes you laugh, pushing the thought of your class project completely out of your mind.

Tags: @sweet-darling91 @aztecbrujeria @tarot-milktea I love you guys 💜 If anyone else wants to be tagged lmk :)

#bakugou katsuki #bnha smut #university au #college au #bakugou smut #bakugou x reader #bakugo x female reader #bnha fanfic art #mha fanfiction #mha smut #aged up characters

[twistedmusings]

Congrats on 600+ followers! May I request fluff no. 18 with Azul with a g/n reader who works on campus catching him off guard because they're naturally suave? Love your works btw >w>

A/N: Ah thank you for the compliment! And the writer is going to be perfectly honest...I kinda went rouge with this prompt request. I didn’t expect to be so into it but I’m an Azul simp so maybe its just in my blood q wq. 

Warnings: None! Unless you count Azul embarassing himself as one. 

Azul Ashengrotto 

Azul hated everything about this.

It was just a simple question. Were you free tonight? Azul had planned out a perfect excuse to get you to drop by the Monstro Lounge as well as a brand new appetizer set that he had put on the menu that would hopefully keep you in the Monstro Lounge and in the company of Azul.

And then maybe, just maybe, Azul could believe that he had a date with you. 

The plan was flawless in his eyes

He knew you weren't doing anything tonight, had planned each appetizer based on what you usually ordered when you went over and  handpicked an array of conversational topics which were all ordered based on how interesting you would find them. 

All he had to do now was just...set it into motion. Which is good! No plan this good should be kept in the dark. 

So why did he hate every single aspect of this? 

Ever since your little 'hardworking' comment back in the Atlantica museum, Azul started drafting what ended up being a five page outline on how to get you to be his friend. After spending more time with you he extended the outline to ten pages in order to include how he would get you to visit Atlantica and his parent's restaurant. Followed that came several more hangouts as well as you offering to work for Monstro Lounge for some extra madol and Azul didn't necessarily know how a five page outline turned into a fifteen page outline complete with color coordination on events he deemed important in your relationship as well as future events he had already planned out that would get your feelings for him to change into something with a more...romantic overture. 

"Oh. Hey Azul!" 

This was it. No turning back. Every single muscle in his body was tensed despite how relaxed and poised he looked on the outside

"[Y/N]-san. Lovely seeing you here." 

"Feeling is mutual." you smile, "Need help finding a book?" 

First hurdle. Reply with a flirtatious comment or state his intentions clearly. 

"No,I am just here...to check out books..." 

Oh Great Witch, he wouldn't be able to pull this off would he? 

Azul needed to call the whole thing off, needed to go back and draft any other scenario that didn't start with him stating the blatantly obvious--! 

"Oh well good! Do you need my help?" 

Or maybe not? An excuse to stick by your side had presented itself and Azul would be damned  if he didn't take it. 

"I need a book on human's thoughts on Atlantica before the start of the 21st century. I thought it would be an interesting read for both me and Jade." 

Azul can't help the softness he feels in his heart as he watches you think to yourself before placing a finger on your lips. 

“Twisted Wonderland history...that should be over in the next couple of shelves. Wanna follow me?” 

Yes. YES! 

“If that would be alright with you.” 

Sky blue eyes take in your form, letting his mind wander as you talked about...well he wasn’t necessarily listening. With you being this distracted Azul could take all the time he wanted staring at way your lips moved and how your eyes looked when staring at him--

“Azul? Did you hear what I said?” 

He blinks when your words reach his ears, blushing when realizing that he had been staring so much he truly had no idea what you were talking about. No need to panic or get carried away, however, this was perfectly normal in conversations. 

“I apologize. I have been a little out of it.” 

You stop walking beside him, halting Azul’s step as you looked at him. 

“Are you alright?” 

Damn you. That was the sort of thing that Azul loved and hated about you. You were in a world that wasn’t your own and were almost pushed to take up odd jobs here and there to make ends meet and you were asking about his well-being? Friendship or possible romantic relationship be damned, Azul just wanted you by his side constantly. 

If he could rope you into a contract that would assure that it would be so much easier than having to plan out an entire situation to get what he wants, but you at least were worth the trouble. 

“More than alright. Even I tend to get distracted.” 

Your cheery smile comes back as you both keep walking, you speaking up after a few seconds. 

“I asked what had brought you here.” 

You. 

“Just the book I suppose...and the company that came along with it.” 

First flirtatious comment made and the small look of surprise was his prize. Catching you off guard was one of the goals he had set for himself in this conversation so he could promptly check that off. 

“And you?” he adjusted his glasses before smiling his practiced charming smile, “Do you come here often?” 

“Well considering I work here...yes.” 

Azul can almost hear a pin drop when you say that, his eyes somehow abandoning his tunnel vision and realizing what you looked like. 

A small name badge on your uniform, a lanyard with several keys that he guessed would help you open several library doors and a trolley (how did he miss a trolley!?) full of books that you were currently pushing. 

“Right...of course...I knew that…” 

A small chip cracks off from his pride, the whole thing coming tumbling down as you laugh. How did he miss such a BIG detail? 

“Did you really not notice? I was even putting books away!” 

All he can do is open and close his mouth like a fish out of water, face turning an embarrassing shade of red as he tries to excuse himself from your presence. He just wanted to hide in a pot and never come out! The moment he got to the dorm he would tear that outline in half because what was the point if he missed something so little! Why would you even want to be friends with someone like him when he didn’t even know the more basic things about you! 

Stars, he just wanted to die. 

You wipe a tear from your eye before putting a hand on a shelf, “Oh my goodness...that was really funny. You should find the book you want here, ‘zul.” 

“...thank you…” 

Azul sighs and goes to look for whatever title he had told you he wanted but stops when a hand tugs on his wrist. 

“Well don’t leave me alone just yet. I have a question for you.” 

You pull out your phone, “I get off at six today. Do you mind if I drop by the Monstro Lounge to hang out?” 

His heart does a little flip as his entire posture straightens out. 

“I--” 

“Yeah I know you guys close at five and don’t open until eight for weekends but I thought we could just hang out in your office. We clearly need to catch up if you didn’t know I work here now.” 

You move closer, the little flips in Azul’s heart turning into major acrobatic leaps as you smile at him. 

“Sounds like a date?” 

Azul doesn’t necessarily remember what happened after that, all he remembers is nodding far too quickly that his glasses almost flew off and then tripping on air when you finished helping him check his book out. 

#twisted wonderland #twst #azul ashengrotto #azul x reader #twst mc #short prose #//also I am living for a more than ready to flirt their heart out MC!

[inuyashasforest]

Someday (I love you in present tense)

I miss you folks! Here’s a little drabble I wanted to share while I work on other things, something short and bittersweet. Hope you enjoy  ♥ 

It’s the last good night before everything goes to hell. Not that they know it at the time. They don’t know sitting around the fire that evening as the sun’s colour drains from the sky, that this is the last night they’ll have with none of the injured, ill, stressed or scared. They’re closing in on Naraku, the threads are all pulling together, but they don’t know that.

Tonight is just a good night.

They’ve set up camp on the banks of a slow river, the water passing in a calm stream, the surface glassy, reflecting starlight and the glow of the fire. They caught fish, and even managed to get some rice and vegetables from the last village they helped – practically a feast. The five of them sit around the fire, bellies full and bodies relaxed from the day’s travelling. Shippo is curled up, asleep on Kirara’s larger form, burrowed into her long fur. Kirara purrs, a soft rumbling, as she snoozes by the fire, every bit as lazy and content as a housecat.

Sango is telling them a story about the first time she rode on Kirara as a young girl, how excited she’d been to finally fly with her family’s guardian. Kirara had been a constant companion and protector since she was a baby, and so young Sango had been entirely comfortable with her – and maybe a little too confident. She hadn’t been more than 8 years old at the time, and had practically jumped onto Kirara’s back, boasting to her father how she would master this on her first try, that of course Kirara would obey her. Kirara had taken it upon herself to put some humility in the overzealous young girl and had proceeded to fly so wildly that Sango was just barely holding on by a fistful of fur. On a harsh flip, Sango’s grip had failed and she’d started falling. Kirara had caught with ease, and gently returned her to the ground, before turning and flicking her tails in the girl’s face just for good measure. It’d been a lesson Sango never forgot.

And as she tells the story to her friends around the fire that night, all of them laughing along and jeering at her, Sango is bright and at ease. She rarely indulges the others in stories from her childhood, memories of her family often still too fresh and painful to recount. But tonight is a good night. So, she does. Kirara cracks an eye open and chuffs, gently flicking one of her tails in Sango’s face just to tease, before letting out a roaring yawn and napping again.

Miroku is staring at her all the while like her laughter alone could put a hault to the rampant wars. He has his arm around her, behaving himself, and she’d leaning comfortably against his side. Across the fire, Inuyasha as leaning back against a tree trunk in his usual cross-legged-arms-folded position, but even he has a relaxed posture. Kagome is sprawled out on her sleeping back, laying on her stomach with her pillow under her chest as she laughs along with Sango.

“I miss that,” Sango says with a content sigh as she snuggles in further against Miroku, who is all too happy to oblige. “Not the falling part, but just… flying with her. Just for the sake of it. On nights like these, we used to fly up to the mountains just to sit on the top and look at the stars. It was always so clear up there.”

“It’s not like there’s anything stopping you,” Inuyasha grunts from across the fire, though there is no noticeable malice in his tone. Even his voice is gentle in the quiet of the night. “Why don’t you just go back? Even just for a night.”

But Sango shakes her head. “No, there’s just been no chance to lately. And with how active the demon presence has been across the land… it’d be more trouble than it’s worth for such a silly little thing.”

“It’s not silly,” Kagome says earnestly. “It obviously means a lot to you.”

Sango offers her a smile. “Someday,” she says. “Someday I’ll go back, but not until our task is completed. Then, I’ll go up to the mountains near the Taijiya Village as often as Kirara and I want, and watch the stars. It’s like no other view in the world up there. On clear nights, you can see all the way to the ocean, and every single star moving across the sky.” Tilting her head back, she beams up at Miroku. “I’d love to take you up there.”

“I’d love nothing more to go with you,” Miroku smiles back, rubbing his hand up and down her forearm. The sky is clear tonight, but there were wisps of clouds floating across the stars, and the trees are tall and full. Beautiful, nonetheless. Miroku’s expression turns pensive. “It won’t be too long now,” he says, speaking aloud what everyone is thinking. One way or another, this will all be over soon, and none of them can predict what will happen, how and if they will all come out. They all know this – but Miroku doesn’t say that. Instead, he holds Sango a little closer. “When it is,” he says, “I would like to return to Mushin’s temple for a while. I will have much to be thankful for, and even more to pray for,” Miroku adds with a light, mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Monk,” Sango nudges him with her elbow.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Miroku surrenders with a laugh. “I wouldn’t want to stay for too long, though. Somehow, I cannot imagine living anywhere but in Kaede’s village.”

Sango’s smile only brightens at that idea, and the implications of it. “Neither can I.”

“That does sound nice,” Kagome sighs happily. She rolls onto her back, stretching her arms over her head and closing her eyes. The soft heat of the fire warms her skin, but the midnight breeze is cool and refreshing. “Once this is all over, I’ll finally have a chance to catch up on my school work. Maybe I’ll still be able to get into a good high school. But I’ll be honest,” she trails off for a moment, opening her eyes to stare up at the sky, “I think I’d just be… bored. After everything I’ve seen and done here, the thought of going back to a normal life just seems dull.”

“It sounds safe,” Inuyasha corrected, casting a glare down at her.

Kagome cracks an upside-down smile at him, reaching up to poke him in the thigh. “Same thing.”

Inuyasha scoffs but doesn’t say another word.

“Well,” Kagome shrugs, folding her arms under her head, long black hair spilling over her pillow, “hopefully, the Bone Eater’s Well will still let me through… I would miss you all too much. I’m not ready to say goodbye just yet.” Ever the optimist, Kagome smiled to herself and watched a cloud drift lazily across the full, bright moon. “But… at least it’ll all be over. The jewel will be whole, and Naraku won’t be able to hurt anyone else. A lot of people will be safe. If nothing else, that’s enough for me.”

“You’ve grown so much since we first started travelling, Lady Kagome,” Miroku says.

Kagome turns her head towards him and flashes a cheeky smile from across the fire. “Why, thank you for noticing,” she nods her head.

Sango lifts her hand to her mouth as she laughs, before looking to their only companion who hadn’t yet shared. “What about you, Inuyasha?” she asks. “What do you look forward to, when this is all over?”

But Inuyasha doesn’t reply. His arms seem to be held a little tighter across his chest, and his gaze into the fire is unwavering. The firelight makes the gold of his eyes glow brighter.

Sango frowns, thinking that he hadn’t heard her. “Inuyasha?”

“It’s late,” Inuyasha cuts her off abruptly. Feigning nonchalance, he stretches his arms behind his back and rises to his feet. His movements are sharp, his voice forced. “We have a long way to go tomorrow. Get some sleep. I’ll take the first watch.” With that, he turns and walks off toward the river bank.

The other three exchange looks – there is no mistaking it, they all know that Inuyasha had avoided the question. Still, he’s already stalked away, and it isn’t worth prodding. So, they gradually turn in for the night, letting the fire burn down as they settle down to rest. Inuyasha is right, they do have a long journey ahead of them, and it is already well into the night. Miroku and Sango end up asleep together, wrapped up loosely in each other’s arms as they recline against Kirara. Kagome, for her part, does drift off after snuggling down into her sleeping bag, perfectly comfortable and sleepy.

But she isn’t asleep for long. Or, at least, it doesn’t feel like long. It seems like she’d only closed her eyes for a second when she opens them to find the fire nothing but a pile of slowing embers. She yawns, turning over and sitting upright. It takes a moment for her eyes to adjust in the dark. Miroku and Sango are still sleeping, Kirara and Shippo as well. But Inuyasha is nowhere to be seen.

Not at first, anyway. As Kagome turns toward the river, she sees the outline of him, sitting at the edge of the water, illuminated by the bright moonlight shining off the river like a mirror. Slowly crawling out of her sleeping back, she stands and walks toward him.

He knows she’s approaching, though he makes no acknowledgement. Kagome can see his ears twitching in her direction. Kneeling down beside him, she lays her hand on his back and leans forward to see his face.

“Inuyasha?” she whispers. “Are you…”

She doesn’t finish. Doesn’t need to, she already knows the answer. Inuyasha looks back at her, and for the first time she’s ever seen, he looks… unsure of himself. Scared, almost, but that isn’t quite the right word. He looks lost.

That’s all it takes. Kagome understands. This is the look of a boy who never expected to get this far. Who never thought about a future beyond his short term goals, because he’d never figured there was a point. What had once been so clear to him was now… well, nothing close to what he’d thought it’d be. Inuyasha once believed that possessing the Sacred Jewel would solve all of his problems, that all he needed was to be a full blooded demon, and then everything would be okay – but at that time, he’d never actually thought through how that would work. He never thought about what he would do after.

And now that Inuyasha knows that becoming a full demon isn’t what he wants, his singular focus has been destroying Naraku. Everything will be fine after that, surely. But the part that comes after is somehow more unclear now that it’s ever been. Inuyasha doesn’t know how to deal with even the hope of a future he never thought he would have.

He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t move away when Kagome stares back at him, slipping her hand up to cradle his cheek. Maybe it’s just her imagination, but she can almost feel him lean into her palm.

Kagome does not say a word. She crawls into his lap, sitting between his legs and leaning back against his shoulder. Gently taking his arms, she guides them around her waist, and holds them there, holding her hands on top of his.

They really are an odd pair, Kagome things as her eyes shut. A girl who didn’t belong in the past, and a boy who didn’t have a future. Maybe that was why the present meant so much to her. Whatever happened next, they had right now. They had this moment, this night. If they held onto that, maybe the future wouldn’t have to be so daunting.

Eventually, Kagome feels her body grow heavy, falling asleep safe and content in Inuyasha’s arms. And, it may just be her imagination, but she can swear she feels Inuyasha press his lips against her head just moments before she drifts off.

#inuyasha #inukag #mirsan #inuyasha fanfic #Kagome Higurashi #sango #miroku

[oldmanatom]

wrote a whole long post about how i “did” “NaNo,” thought i saved it to my drafts, came to post it tonight and it’s not there. that’s genuinely a bummer since i had other Thoughts™ baked into it, but i’ll take it as an opportunity to write a second draft version instead, now that i have my thoughts more together:

my version of NaNo, much like my version last year, was just to hit a word count goal with whatever writing i could scrape together. this year i set the goal lower than last year, and actually more or less hit it, which was cool and tbh surprising.

i’ve been resistant to writing to hit a word count in the past—seemed like an easy way to psych myself out, plus how i write (jumping all around the story/page/doc) makes keeping track of word counts annoying at best, challenging at worst—but succeeding last month made it far more appealing. i’m going to try and hit it again this month, to see if it might be a good way to keep myself on the writing...treadmill? hike? grind? [insert relevant metaphor here].

for the first time in literally (literally!) years, i’ve completed a first draft of something. it’s objectively not very good, and will need a lot of work—i didn’t know what the hell i was doing for 50% of it, and once i figured out what i was trying to do i didn’t know how to do it for the other 50%, and it took me basically the entire month to put it together brick by brick, so what i have now is about as scattered as you’d expect from that process—but it’s done, which means i can actually do that work and make those edits with a holistic view on what i’m working with, instead of, like, trying to fix the foundation as i’m also trying to build the frame and hang the drywall, so to speak.

thinking also about this post, and about that Terry Pratchett quote about how the first draft is just you telling yourself the story, and about how impossible it is to know and see everything there is to know and see about my story on the very first pass. this idea—that something being done is better than it being good when it comes to first drafts—is something that’s both obvious and easy to understand, and yet has taken me years to realize and more years to actually implement.

why? lots of reasons. one of them: i get stuck in write-edit cycles—write something, go back and edit it, write more, edit that and edit the other part to fit in with the new part, write more, etc etc. it’s a momentum killer. if i do that, i finish nothing, as i’ve proven over and over again over the years as i’ve started a million things and followed through on exactly none of them. trying to break myself of this habit has been a struggle, and mostly i lose, but i’m losing less often and less extensively than i was at the beginning, which i’ll take.

why care about this? lots of reasons. one of them: i am extraordinarily tired of looking at my folders full of bits and pieces stuck in Google docs that get forgotten about and left to collect virtual dust. they might be “good,” but i’m not satisfied with just writing them and letting them sit and do nothing, like some sort of dragon’s hoard of words. i am, regardless of how i feel moment to moment, a decent writer; if nothing else, i’m writing things that i like to read, and that i’d like others to read; i should find a way to bridge the gap and finish these off into something i can share.

(feeling like nothing’s ever done enough to share is its own point which i’m still trying to figure out, and which might be the next meta “thing” i tackle on the first edit/second draft of this piece. how much can one oneshot teach me? is it wise to make this into The Little Story That Could? i guess we’ll find out.)

one thing i’ve been learning as i’ve been trying to put this idea into practice, which will absolutely sound sappy but keeps proving itself true: my story’s going to teach me as i go. it’s going to tell me what needs to happen with the plot and characters and everything else, and it’s going to do that regardless of whether or not i have a 19 page scene-by-scene outline or a conversation i like, an image in my head of the scene, and a vague idea of what i want to happen next. and, whatever i miss on the first round i can pick up and work on in the next rounds. but it only teaches me if i keep writing it, unfortunately.

basically: it doesn’t have to be good, it just has to be done. that’s it. that’s the only requirement of a first draft: that it be complete. just keep writing until the damn thing’s finished. polish comes second. i keep repeating this like a fucking mantra, like something you’d chant to yourself to get through a root canal or the last hour of a truly terrible shift, and honestly that’s what it feels like half the time, but it worked once, so who’s to say it won’t work again.

i think there was a third point in my original post, but i can’t remember it so i guess it can’t be that important. i’ll end with a few quotes from this past month of NaNo, entirely from that draft, which is partly because that was 80-90% of my writing this past month and partly because the other 10-20% is stuff that i’m likely going to be posting soon (yes, i do have plans to post something soon, sorry @ my poor neglected writing sideblog). without context, because i think that’s funnier—

1.

To your eternal shame, you can't actually manage to look up at the woman you know is standing in the doorway, one sandaled foot through the threshold and leaning heavily on the Death First to Solicitors and Thieves doormat. Instead, you glance partway over and see weak, yellowish light spill out from inside, cascade over the porch steps, and reach with dim and blunted fingers out towards her soaked half yard. You trace the watery edges of it with your eyes instead of looking at her, and it's a coward's move but that relief is back again, so.

"Harrow?" she says, barely audible over the pounding water around you.

You remember, then, when you told her ages ago that her vintage standing lamp needed its bulb replaced and the two of you had gotten into a nice little row over well, it's not dead yet, now is it, and where the hell am I supposed to find another weird filament bulb like that, and who exactly decided to get the damn antique showpiece thing anyways. It's entirely unsurprising that after all these years it's still the same almost-flickering bulb stuck in it, that it's somehow still alive and managing to bleed light out onto this miserable scene.

2.

Being shorn down to your shirts and jeans and socks makes you wrap your arms around yourself again. No longer having five pounds of wet denim on your shoulders lets your body remember what warmth is, and more importantly reminds you that you have none, and so what had been a vague shaking for the last hour turns into full-on shivering, teeth clacking and everything. You ask, not for the first time, for some reasonable God to show you mercy and cut you down.

Instead, Ianthe covers her smile half with her hand and says, "Oh, look at you, Harry, you poor thing. Soaking wet and I didn't even have a hand in it."

"Shut up," you try to say, but your chattering teeth and jaw make it come out more like "s-s-s-hhhht 'p," and Ianthe doesn't react regardless, just shakes her head and throws you another towel.

3.

"Harrow, please. It's late and I've never been fond of your insistence on bullshitting when I have your back against a wall. Besides, ending up huddled on my porch in the worst storm of the year is a little much, even for—"

"Even for me," you interrupt, "as though I was the one who slept in front of our front door for three nights so that I wouldn't 'run out on you with the rent' after you lost an argument."

The corner of Ianthe's mouth twitches, but it's the only slip of her otherwise curious, focused expression. "To be fair, it was an argument about the rent."

#posts from beyond the wifi #how do you fic #i was tbh on the fence about both writing all these Thoughts™ and about posting even these quotes #but the damn idea won't leave me alone so...*gestures vaguely* y'know? #also just want to thank whoever on the tumblr team finally made multi-nested lists functional. i DO love my tiered bulletpoints

[aubrey-plaza]

I've seen a lot of fic rec lists lately given everything happening. Do you have any recommendations to get us through the lock down? p.s. I love everything you write.

omg thanks anon!!

I know these are scary times so have here a quick and dirty list of my fave fics starting with Staubrey and then just... veering offcourse. They’re all femslash except the one I marked with an asterisk but yeah. 

as always, I’m not gonna rec my own fics on my this list bc that’s cheating but if you wanna read them pls click this link and that ends the self promo for today lmao

 recs under the cut!

Stacie x Aubrey

Snowbound  

by ACamp_toner / @stepintotherevolve​ (22.171, complete, rated E)

summary: The Bellas go on a ski trip and Staubrey happens

notes: this has amazing smut and features just enough jealousy to spark these two idiots into a meaningful talk. there’s also side bechloe and a healthy dose of humour.  

The Howl

by @tiny-maus-boots​ (30.739, wip/currently being written, AU)

summary: Stacie's pack is forcing her into a corner but Fate has other plans for her - if she doesn't die first.

notes: werewolf!Stacie and vampire!Aubrey who meet on a full moon and fuck. there’s more to it and a great backstory that’s being wonderfully developed (trust me, I’ve been told of the plans and I’m ri-ve-ted). also has some amazing soft moments and a fab spark of heat.  

Prelude in Lydian Mode

by knappster / @ss-staubrey​ (5972, complete)

summary: Remember tonight... for it is the beginning of always.

notes: I will rec this fic til the day I die. It’s such a lovely brand of staubrey and a perfect example of the idiots to lovers trope.  

and the songbirds are singing (like they know the score)

by angelranger (2326, complete)

summary: It came as a slight surprise to Stacie that Aubrey, the same Aubrey who had grown up in a strict and dysfunctional household, was just so good with her daughter.

Bella seemed to unearth a side of Aubrey that was just so unbelievably soft, a side Stacie is almost positive even Aubrey didn’t know existed. But there she is, sat on the carpeted floor in front of the coffee table, sat right next to Bella, drawing outlines for the four year old to colour in.

notes: oh god i love a good, soft bella fic and this one hits all the right notes. it’s sweet and lovely and features singing Bella to sleep which is like. my weakness. go leave some more love on this deserved fic!

Sansa x Margaery

The Crackpots and These Women

by Netgirl_y2k (8089, complete, WEST WING AU)

summary: "You're in charge of press relations," Yara told Margaery, gesturing to Sansa. "Relate.”

summary: yeah you read that fuckin right that’s a West Wing AU. My love for this mashup has no bounds. It’s so perfectly coy, the way I imagine adult Sansa and Margaery would be, combined with the hopeful tinge of WW, and the pining of a somewhat open ended yet hopeful finish. If you like either of these universes, read this.  

Kind Regards

by MsCFH / @hell-much (9835, complete, explicit, part of a series!)

summary: Margaery Tyrell is determined on setting foot in the Northern market of Westeros by establishing a collaboration between the Tyrell Corporation and Stark Incorporated.

The only problem? The likewise gorgeous and stubborn Deputy Managing Director Sansa Stark.

summary: holy hell this fic is amazing. they hate each other SO MUCH. the author has a vibe setting skill that makes me want to weep. the smut is off the charts hot like there are literally no words. go read it and then read the series bc it’s *that good*. please go get your church lady fan before reading because you WILL need it.  

EXTRA NOTE: same author is writing a post-s6 canon compliant fic where Marg is actually still alive and if you’re looking for a full weekend activity, go ahead and binge this one (it’s a wip but is still being updated)

lay all your love on me

by 1once (9498, complete, show-compliant)

summary: It has been eight years since her demise.

But for the world of her, she cannot figure out why. For what? Why was she alive?

notes: i will say just one thing: flower. magic. okay, i’ll say more things. this fic is the redemption show!marg deserved combined with the fun supernatural magicky aspect of flower magic that’s just so in character. reading this fic feels the way a warm cup of tea in your hands on a cold winter’s day does.  

til you come back home

by heart_nouveau (7978, complete, AU - modern setting)

summary: “Using one-night stands to distract myself from my crush on my roommate counts, right?”

-

Margaery Tyrell is an ambitious law student who needs a perfect grade point average if she wants to stay at the top of her class - and she is not going to throw that away by falling for her very attractive, very sweet roommate, one Sansa Stark.

notes: margaery is a moron with feelings aka my favourite type of character.  

Birds of Prey’s Dinah x Helena

Siren Call

by ThanksForListening (3300, complete, part 2 of a series) 

summary: "It always happened in the quiet moments. The early hours of the morning, when the leftover energy from a mission hadn’t quite disappeared yet. The sleepless nights, when memories clawed their way into her mind and wouldn’t let go until her screams released them. The lazy afternoons, when the radio played softly and melodies she’d almost forgotten danced around her lips. It was only when the world went still that Dinah felt her watching.

She didn’t remember the first time she noticed it. The staring. Maybe it was because Helena was always watching everything and everyone around them that Dinah didn’t realize how frequently that attention fell on her. How it felt different. Helena looked at the world with suspicion and anger and indifference, but not her. She looked at her with something much softer, something she hadn’t found a name for just yet. No word in her arsenal was deep enough or strong enough to describe it.

Whatever it was, she could feel it now.”

notes: gahhhhh this fic. “What do you see,” she finally asked, “when you look at me?” is a line that I’m gonna think about until the day I die. this is the second fic in a series and you can read it as a standalone but the first fic is also fuckin amazing

after the afterparty

by novoaa1 (1181, complete, set right after the movie ends)

summary: The Canary had let loose a delighted snort at that, as if she found the whole thing somehow laughable.

(Which it wasn’t, to be clear—laughable, that is.)

“Are y'all seeing this shit?” she’d turned to ask the rest of them, earning a giddy squeal from Harley and a bemused scoff from Montoya even whilst Helena remained stock still in place, dutifully blinding herself with one hand. “Absolutely adorable.”

“Shut up,” Helena had hissed back more out of instinct than anything else, though her tone was markedly devoid of any real anger.

(And if Helena had felt her cheeks flush ever so slightly beneath her palm at the Canary’s glib assertion, she certainly didn’t let on.)

Or: Sionis falls. The rest of them remain.

notes: just. read it.  

knew your love (before i kissed you)

by z0ejake / @zxyjxy (58.263, wip / currently being written, rated E for the last chapter)

summary: Surviving the massacre of your entire family at the age of eight is a pretty impressive feat. Training for fifteen years in Sicily until you can kill a man with one hand and a hairpin is also a pretty impressive feat. Returning to the city where your family was cut down and killing every single person involved in their deaths is maybe the most impressive feat. Somehow, it's never been enough for Helena.

notes: bro this fic is a masterpiece and zoe is a genius. features absolute moron feral dumb jock helena and my favourite version of dinah: patient and endeared and a little teasing.  

the war is over (and we are beginning)

by ace_verity (12.573, 5/5, complete)

summary: The thing is, Helena has no idea what comes after.

The past fifteen years, she’s had a singular goal. She's never given any thought to what she’d do once she killed the men who murdered her family in front of her.

Maybe, Helena realizes, she never actually thought she’d make it this far.

—

In which Helena Bertinelli joins a team, buys a cactus, beats up criminals, goes to church, bakes bread, and falls in love.

(Not necessarily in that order.)

notes: this fic is beautiful and perfectly explores a lost Helena. I also love the way Renee is written in this and the whole vibe of the story is just *chefs kiss*

cheap shampoo

by OfElvesAndAliens (1609, complete)

summary: The thing is, Helena is a rigidly focused kind of gal, iron rage forged into skilled precision. Dinah has also noticed it in the little things, like the way she frowns a bit when she's doing something as trivial as writing, her penmanship always neat and firm. That same tiny furrow of her brow is showing up again while she's methodically whisking some eggs in a bowl.

Dinah finds it cute. Fucking sue her.

notes: oh god but i love a bedsharing fic and this one? feeding and post-mission and just winding down together??? ohhhh my god

two extra random goodies just for fun:

Lamplighter

by the_years_between_us (116.915, wip, rated E)

show/ship: The Fall, Stella Gibson/Reed Smith

summary: Stella gets a call from Reed directly following the final episode of The Fall S3.

notes: this is one of only a handful of wips that I’m keeping up with and reading constantly. It’s written like goddamn poetry and I love an older ship with more baggage, because the emotions here run so much higher with their shared history and the tentative steps they’re trying to take. Also, given the source material, this is almost cathartic to read.  

Nothing to Lose*

by tielan (8013, complete, rated E)

fandom/ship: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Maria Hill/Steve Rogers

summary: “It’s one of the traditional rituals of manhood,” Natasha observes as they’re sparring. “Kill a man, fuck a woman.”

notes: listen. i know. okay? i know this seems like a crackship. but I love it SO MUCH and this author writes so well that I’ve been fully converted. ~something some of you have told me I do for you~ so go read this fic, and then read the others, and then fall in love and join me in this lonely ship. You won’t regret it.  

I’ll be writing while in isolation so if you have any Dinah/Helena or Stacie/Aubrey prompts, shoot ‘em my way!

and also hit me up for anything, as always. 

peace and love, and stay safe everybody!

#fic rec #shoutout to anybody I may have missed bc I wrote this in a hurry <3 #anonymous #anon #ask

[cdelphiki]

hi, i was just wondering if you had ever considered publishing some of your outlines of your finished stories so that we could see your progress. As someone who is trying to get into writing and gets lost in their own head I think it could really help us starting writers see how we could potentially focus our ideas.

Uhhh, I haven’t really, but that’s mostly because my outlines don’t often make it until the final product.  But, I’ll be happy to show some examples for my current WIPs!  

I highly recommend using the program Scrivener to write. I need organization tools, and Microsoft Word does not provide them.  Scrivener does, though!  It lets you have folders in folders with scene cards, and move everything around however you like.  It’s how I outline, and I usually write my actual chapters on a blank scene card while having the outline card on the left, then I ‘throw away’ the outline card.  (Scrivener NEVER deletes scene cards, just moves it to trash if you don’t want it).  It’s also only $45, and last year they gave out half off coupons for doing NaNoWriMo. It’s completely worth it to save up if you can’t afford the 23 or 45 right away.  They let you have a 30 day free trial, too, so try it for free first.  That’s what I did (and over used the free trial because I have a Mac that I never turn off and I just never closed the program so I used the free trial for like 4 months....) 

So, right now I’m actually working on a one-shot I hope to finish tonight and get out, but at this point it’l probably be tomorrow.  I do have an outline for it, but it’s really just a short summary and brainstorm document.  

As you can see, I actually had two ideas and switched ideas mid-summary.  I kept the original idea just in case I wanted to go with it after all.  I also throw in pieces of dialogue and any other important bits.  Off on the left, you can see all my one-shots.  This project file is basically just my ‘random one-shots’ file, which makes it way easier on me rather than having 30 different project files for each one-shot.  All of my major stories have their own file.  

Now, my long stories get about the same level of outline, just by chapter, rather than the entire story.  I’m going to put that below the cut, since this got a little long with picture examples. Also, I’m going to show full on pictures for Jason and the Three Terrors, so it’s kind of spoilers? If anyone cares about that.  

Here is my project file for Jason and the Three Terrors.  I have been working in it today, as you can see.  I wrote about half of chapter two and today I was going in and commenting the crap out of everything I hated and wanted to change.  The outline file for chapter two is on the left so you can see how I bounce off my brainstormed ideas.  

Basically, the way I outline is I figure out what the story is.  In this instance, I got a prompt.  The prompt basically said “Jason escapes with Mara, Damian, and Athanasia after Talia is murdered and the four of them live in Metropolis.” So I took that, decided I wanted it to be a “Jason comes home instead of being Red Hood” story and made that my ultimate goal.  I then started brainstorming what all needed to happen to get from point A, being Jason is with the League and Talia is alive, to point B, being Jason and the kids living with Bruce and being happy, and wrote everything down.  It’s super rough, it’s not at all pretty, and it only makes sense to me.  But that’s what an outline is.  

All those scenes I then started to organize and separate out by chapter, which led to me numbering all the chapters and naming them as you can see in the folder names. 

An example of an outlined chapter is here.  Basically, I write down what has to happen. In this case, the summary is “Travel across Europe.’  As I think through the story and get stuck in different stages, I pull up the chapter file and add in more things.  I’ve given more thought to how they get to Europe, and why, so I’ve jotted that down. I’ve also had random little conversations pop up, so I've written them down as well. Whether any of this gets used just depends on how the story goes, but this is how I have it going right now.  You can ALSO see in here how the story has changed even as I’ve done the outline.  That bit at the bottom, about camping in the woods, is now outdated and will not be happening, because there are no ‘woods’ around where they are hiking.  However, the conversation between him and Athanasia probably will still happen, so I’ve left it alone.  Really any random piece of information you think of can be helpful, so don’t be afraid to save everything. Again, these don’t have to be pretty. 

Precedent’s outline is pretty much the same.  I haven’t cleaned up the last two published chapters, so they actually still have their outlines attached.  As you can see, I name the future chapters with the POV character, then have the scene card in there with the actual outline.  I go back and delete all the random notecards I don’t need anymore and rename the chapter once it is complete. 

And here’s last week’s chapter next to the outline I used.  The red text shows a rewrite.  You can go into revision mode and have each revision’s texts be a different color, so that’s what I did there.  Red is the first revision.  Sometimes I do a second, but I don’t normally go beyond one revision.

And yeah, that’s basically how I do it.  I know I have the Life Happens original outline still saved, because I used Microsoft Word to write most of that story so I had the outline in a separate document, but it got redone so many times in my actual working document that it is hilariously outdated.  I guess that in itself is an excellent piece of advice to give though: Don’t be afraid to stray from the outline.  

Your outline is just a guide.  If it becomes outdated, that’s fine.  Fix it.  Update it.  Your story will naturally shift and change as you’re going because you’ll realize your character would never do that, or maybe something unexpected happens, or the story just randomly took a different path.  It doesn’t matter.  Your outline is there to help you keep your notes straight and push you in the right direction, and if you have to change that direction and rewrite your notes, so be it! Don’t stress too much over it and just have fun.  

#writing #writing advice #outlines #how I write my longfics

[thelanguagecommunity]

I’ve developed this “language maintenance” challenge for languages I’ve neglected in my own studies but still wish to practice. It consists of a variety of activities, designed to not be intrusive in daily life but keep you thinking about your TL. It’s also designed to broad and fit a wide variety of situations including heritage languages, intermediate-level languages, languages that you’ve finished a course and don’t know what’s next, or languages that you’ve otherwise put on the back-burner. Hopefully, someone out there will find it useful! If you need help finding a resource to complete one of these activities, let me know! If you make any posts relating to this, please use #upkeepchallenge so I can see it :D 

Write down all of the reasons why you want to learn your target language, or why you want to make sure you maintain it. Think about them, then stick this list into your notebook.

Write out an introduction. If you met a native speaker right now, what would you say? Your name, your interests, where you’re from?

Listen to a video. Try to follow what’s going on, but mostly let it wash over you, listen to the sounds. You can go through my sample playlists for a starting point.

Go into wherever you keep your resources, whether a folder on your computer, a tag on Tumblr or a physical textbook. Open to a random page and try to translate the first sentence you see in your target language. Try to do it on your own without resources, before checking with a dictionary or grammar book. How did you do?

Pick a random verb and write out by hand all of the conjugations you know of for that verb. In other words, write the same sentence over and over again but with different conjugations. Ex: eu sou Americana, tu és Americano, ele é americano, nós somos Americanos… etc. I have some mini-printables for this!

Watch a show/youtube video meant for children in your target language.

Make a vocabulary list for your major/favorite subject/job.

Create a set of flashcards that you can carry around with you. This can be done either digitally (tinycards or quizlet apps on your phone) or physically (cut down index cards to size.) Include vocab from a variety of sources if you can.

Put together a playlist of ONLY 20 songs. Evaluate them and rank them. It might take several listens (that’s the point!)

Look for magazines in your target language. Read (or skim) at least one.

Learn some filler words or sounds and practice speaking with them in a natural cadence/rhythm.

Go back to your playlist (Day 9) and learn the entire lyrics to one of your favorite songs. Practice until you can sing it acapella. 

Whip out your set of flashcards (Day 8) and set a goal for the number of cards memorized by the end of the day. For example, “I’m going to have at least 3/4ths of my cards in the ‘know’ pile by 10pm tonight.”

Have a full conversation with yourself in the mirror today. Imagine you just met yourself in a cafe or a class and just make small talk. Use your introduction from earlier (Day 2)!  

Listen to radio in your target language as you do some chores.

Look for a discord group, forum, or other community of people who are learning/speaking your target language. Post at least one thing. Even if you’re shy, ask a question or just introduce yourself then bounce!

Watch a movie in your target language. 

Do a little research about into the folklore of the culture of your language. Pick one creature/location/story and try to see if you can find any info about it in your target language. An easy way to do this is to find the wikipedia page in your native language and then click on the equivalent article in your target language (it’s on the left side).

Find a passage in your target language that interests you, then record yourself saying it. Evaluate it yourself or post it on langblr or /r/JudgeMyAccent for feedback. What are the elements you got down? What can you improve on?

Use IPA to sharpen your pronunciation. If necessary, record yourself speaking first to pinpoint what sounds off. Focus on sounds that aren’t found in your native language. Practice in front of a mirror and exaggerate them. 

What is your favorite aspect of the culture of your target language (ex: food, dance, traditions, festivals)? Find a youtube video or mini-documentary about it. And try to find it in your target language!

Pick something in your room and talk about it. Be as specific as possible in describing it and how you feel about it. Use a dictionary without shame.

Find a poem you like and copy it into your notebook.

Write up a quiz complete with answer key. Think carefully about the things you think are important for you to know from your target language. Use your textbook or online resources as a guide, but try to make up your own questions too. These can range from conjugating verbs to translating sentences to matching vocab to short answer questions.

Translate the poem (Day 23) and try to keep as much of the poetic language as possible. 

What do you have strong opinions about? Politics? Media? Relationship drama? Outline an essay about this topic, complete with thesis and supporting points. Use a dictionary without shame. The goal here is to think deeply in your target language, not criticize your grammar!

Watch one Oscar-nominated or otherwise critically acclaimed movie in your target language. You can go through my letterboxd lists for a place to start.

Take the quiz that you wrote (Day 24). Grade yourself with brutal honesty to identify the areas you are weak in.

What did you find is your biggest difficulty so far? Today is the day to work on that! Pull up your textbook, look back on your notes, or ask some native speakers online. There’s no shame in asking questions! Act as if you are studying for a test and you just have to understand this one particular point. No more putting it off!

Make a post with everything you’ve learn this month (include all your new vocabulary and grammar points). Reflect on and celebrate your progress! What media did you consume? What resources did you use? What was the most helpful? What were your challenges?

Take a break!

#o #i'll be doing this for portuguese and french #then in november i think i'll be doing nheengatu #language learning #langblr #challenges

[theladyofdeath]

First Comes Love. {Rowaelin}

Warning: slightly smutty. AU.

In celebration of reaching 1.5k, I asked who you all would want to read (smut) about. I received Lysaedion (which has been done!), Rowaelin (which you are about to enjoy - hopefully), and Feysand (coming soon). Thank you for reading my junk, and I hope this gives you nice, happy vibes! Let me know what you think. :)

“I’m exhausted.” 

Rowan glanced at Aelin, who was leaning back in the passenger seat, her eyelids had fluttered shut, and her feet were resting bare on the dash. 

He admired her long, black dress, the way it was hitched up to her midthigh as she was finally able to relax after a long night of dancing. They would be getting married the next week, with only their closest friends and immediate family attending the ceremony on the hills of the countryside of Terrasen, overlooking the mountains.

 Lysandra and Aedion had put together a surprise party to celebrate the couple, a formal occasion full of everything informal. Half way through the night, Aelin and Aedion had gotten into a brawl that made Aelin rip the side of her dress.

However, she still wore it confidently. It gave her a reason to show off her long, tanned legs.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered, gathering her hand in his as his eyes drifted back to the dark, starlit night.

“You’ve mentioned that multiple times tonight,” she laughed, softly.

“That’s how you know I mean it.”

Aelin loved Rowan for many reasons, but one that had captured her heart immediately was how he told her, every day, how beautiful she was, repeatedly, with the same love and affection as if it were the first time coming from his lips.

 “You just like to build my confidence,” Aelin crooned, peeking through her side-eye.

Rowan chuckled. “You don’t need your confidence built, Fireheart.” 

It was true, and one of the things that drew Rowan to Aelin. He saw her for the first time on his first day at University. She was in his College Introduction class, and when she first stood up to introduce herself, she flipped her hair over her shoulder, held her chin up high, and grinned. My name is Aelin Galathynius, she had said, her smooth, silky voice making Rowan weak in the knees. My major is Criminal Justice, and I enjoy rock climbing and fencing. Oh, and I’m a blackbelt in karate.

“What are you thinking about?”

Rowan jumped, unaware he was lost in his thoughts. Aelin was watching him, now, affectionately. 

With a grin, he answered, “The day we met.”

“I could see you drooling from across the room.”

Rowan laughed, shaking his head. “I was not drooling. Not physically, anyway.”

“We can agree to disagree,” she stated, running her fingers up his thigh.

The two had taken backroads home, just as they preferred it. They hadn’t passed anyone in thirty minutes, giving the couple some much needed peace and quiet away from the lights and traffic of the city.

“Do you think anything will change once we’re married?” Aelin asked, causing Rowan to watch her, concerned. “Lysandra told me we’re like an old married couple already, and we haven’t even had the ceremony yet.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” Rowan raised his eyebrows. “Isn’t that the goal? To be an old married couple?”

“Well, yeah, but I feel like that’s what people say when you’ve become boring. I don’t want to be boring. I don’t want to lose that spark, that…..spontaneous love.”

Rowan stayed quiet for a long time, reflecting before he said something that she would take the wrong way. “Do you feel like we have? Lost our spark?”

Aelin shook her head. “I remember when we first started dating, and we made out in the men’s restroom because we randomly ran into each other on our way to class.”

Rowan barked a laugh. “And that was romantic to you? It smelled like piss in there, and we were crammed -”

Scrunching up her nose, Aelin cut him off, “Romantic? No. Spontaneous? Passionate? Hell yeah. I love our life, Ro, but everything is so planned out now. Which I understand, that’s life, but it would be nice if every now and the – wait, whoa, what are you doing?”

Without saying a word, Rowan pulled off onto the shoulder, put the car in park, and turned off the lights. “Being spontaneous.”

Turquoise eyes narrowed as he unbuckled his seatbelt, then leaned over to unbuckle hers. “We’re too old for this.”

Rowan laughed, sliding his hand up to cradle her cheek. “I agree.”

“I love it,” she whispered, as his lips drew closer. “I love you.”

Rowan pushed his seat back, and tugged on Aelin’s hand until she was straddling his lap. Aelin’s knee hit the horn in the process, causing Rowan to erupt into a fit of laughter before Aelin was sitting snugly on his lap, in his arms. 

“If I have to be the one on top, you can’t laugh,” she said, but to her dismay, she was unable to keep from laughing herself.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, amusement still coating his tone. “Forgive me?”

“I guess,” she sighed, as her lips pressed firmly against his. She tasted of raspberry wine, a flavor that tasted much better, in Rowan’s opinion, coming from her tongue. 

Her favorite. 

Strong, calloused hands wandered up her dress, lifting the sleek, lightweight fabric over her head. Her hair, which was earlier in a braided, twisted up-do, now had strands falling gently down her shoulders and back. 

Rowan admired her body, as he had a hundred times before. He was still amazed, utterly speechless, at her beauty, after the four years they had spent together.          

Aelin reached behind her back to unclasp her bra, and watched Rowan’s expression, as she always did, as her breasts fell free. Rowan’s fingers drifted up her sides, lightly brushing her skin, until strong hands were cupping her breasts. 

Aelin’s head tilted back as the moon outlined her body, and Rowan found himself in a state of awe and adoration.

Her lips found his, once more, as her slender fingers found the buttons of his shirt, one by one, until she was pushing it down his forearms and flinging it in the back of the Jeep.

Rowan remembered when Aelin thought he was a brute when they first met. He had introduced himself to her after class, leaning against the wall with his palm against the paint, and one foot crossed behind the other. Then, he had his hair down to his shoulders, but it was tied high in a bun at the back of his head. He was trying to puff out his chest muscles, without her noticing, but she had recently admitted that she knew what he was doing. He was trying to impress her, and apparently, through some miracle, it had worked.

He didn’t say much, other than his name. He was quiet, reserved, but Aelin kind of liked that. She enjoyed the mystery of Rowan Whitethorn.

By this time, as the two were pressed against each other in the front seat of their Jeep, there was no more mystery. The two knew each other as if they were one in the same, an extension of one another’s bodies, of their souls. 

Aelin slid out of her panties, one leg at a time. 

“Do with me what you wish,” Rowan whispered, as his fingers reached in between her thighs in a tease, “Aelin Galathynius.”

“Aelin Galathynius Whitethorn,” she corrected, then added an, “almost.”

She tugged down his pants, then his briefs, until he sprang free, his cock grazing the inside of her thigh.

With roaming hands drifting up her bare back, Aelin set herself gingerly on top of him, and a soft breath escaped Rowan as she brought herself down. 

Making love to Aelin was like being in a land of snow and pine, stunned in the glory of a goddess. Rowan never understood it before her, how someone could completely capture your mind and soul during sex. How sex could be more than just a meaningless, minuscule, momentary sensation.

Sex with Aelin was different. It brought them closer, both mentally and physically. It made Rowan feel like he wasn’t alone, like he was worth loving, worth the amount of love she had, and wanted, to give to him. It made him feel invincible, on top of the world. No one could diminish the high he received from being nothing but a blur of skin and sweat with his future wife. 

Aelin’s hips softly ground against Rowan’s, as her arms wrapped around his neck and their breathing became one in the same, the two of them wrapped up in their own little circle of the world, on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere.

 “Aelin,” he moaned, as her body moved faster against his. 

Soft cries came from her lips as they brushed Rowan’s ear, his jaw, his neck. Her nails clawed at his chest, at his perfectly sculpted abdomen, as he grabbed her hips and pulled her down, continuously, until a sweet sweat began to drip down his forehead.

He cursed, out of habit, as utter euphoria consumed him. 

She screamed his name as he pulled her down, one final time, as tears filled her eyes, and a small, sweet, breathy laugh escaped her.

They stared at one another, dwelling in the silence, turquoise meeting dark, haunting green, gasping for air under the moonlight.

Aelin fell into Rowan’s chest, resting her face in his shoulder nook. 

“We can be spontaneous,” he whispered, voice raspy and growing weary.

“If this is what married life is going to be like,” Aelin giggled, “then I can’t wait to marry you.”

“I knew you only loved me for my body.”

She raked her fingers through his cropped, silver hair, and smiled, “The rest of you is okay, too, Buzzard.” 

#maybe ill stop writing smut #i suck at it #oh well #rowaelin #oneshot