#(i tried to write the post. i did. i get stuck after a sentence or two every time i do)

[varjopeura]

.

[stunie]

the bit you wrote about sakura and how he would stick out his hand and it being "a silent and nervous plea for you to come and hold his hand" had me AWWWWWWING.

THATS SO FREAKING CUTE I CANTTT, love how you write him :)))

original post here! sfw, 700 word count.

my beautiful nonnie you are so sweet and i love u for sending this ask so i wrote this lil blurb for you ! <3 thank you :>

"huh? sakura?"

he wishes he never chose to stick his hand out the second he turns around to meet your gaze, heart thumping wildly against his chest when he sees the way you’ve tilted your head a bit, innocent eyes staring into his as you wait for an explanation. “what are you doin-”

“f-forget it!” his words stumble out of his mouth before you finish your sentence, palms clammy as he shoves them deep inside his pockets, pace quickening as he turns and walks away.

it was unlike him to do something like that in the first place. you’ve always been the one to initiate things like this, never failing to bring a furious blush to his face with each act of affection you shower him with. he doesn’t know what came over him in that moment… or how you were even supposed to understand his silent plea in the first place, but he’s confident that he wouldn’t be able to handle the dizzying heat in his head getting any worse than it already was now.

“wait!” your voice cuts through the air, and he finds himself slowing down his pace for you before he even realizes it. with how close your footsteps sound, he knows he doesn’t have enough time to fight this persistent blush. he can feel the heat continue to spread from his cheeks to the tips of his ears at the thought of you holding him—

“…you okay? sakura?”

the sound of your voice pulls him out his thoughts, and it takes him a second, a couple more blinks to realize that you’re now directly in front of him, face inches away from his to inspect his expression with a curious hum.

there’s a strangled noise of surprise from him before he’s jerking back violently, sleeve coming to hide the bottom half of his face as he gasps. when did you get so close? he pushes his nose against his forearm, seeking some sort of comfort from his makeshift shield. a part of him hopes it’s enough to mask the embarrassment written all over his face, but deep down, he knows that it’s pointless with you.

“you did that because you wanted me to hold your hand, right? sorry, i didn’t get it at first…” you continue with a giggle, and he only manages a weak nod, words stuck in his throat as he forces himself to remember to breathe.

“i—” he tries to speak, but his voice catches in his throat again. it seems to be enough of a confirmation for you though, because you stick your hand out with a cheerful smile. “it’s okay. give me your hand, sakura. let’s go.”

his breath hitches in his throat when he hesitantly takes his hands out from the bottoms of his pockets, laying it lightly on yours. the feeling of your fingers interlacing with his right after has his stomach turning inside out, and he tears his gaze from you when he catches a quick glimpse of the soft smile you’re giving him.

the walk home by your side is painful, to say the least. his mind is stuck on how nice your hands feel against his, and he’s just trying to walk straight at this point. each step is more of a challenge than the last, stiff and forced— and he thinks it’s because his mind has been consumed by the thoughts of you and the overwhelming emotions swirling inside him.

he feels so warm.

“hey, sakura…?” your voice breaks the silence, and he stiffens at the subtle change in your tone, his mind beginning to race right away. was he too harsh earlier? did he push you away? his heart sinks at the thought. he just wants to be closer to you, to be someone who can reciprocate the affection you shower him with so easily, but he struggles to let his guard down.

“..what?” he blurts out, words tinged with hesitation. his heart pounds loudly against his chest as he waits for your next words, unsure of what to expect.

“did you want a kiss too while we’re at it?” the smile he’s so familiar with returns to your face, and the world seems to stop as he processes your question.

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒂 𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒇𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒓’𝒔 𝒄𝒂𝒃𝒊𝒏

hello, I want to thank @foxyprincessworld for inspiring me to write this.

connected to fairytale

summary - it has been a while since meeting ari in the woods, and while he goes out to gather food for you two, you manage to get yourself stuck.

warning - smut, inter-species, tiny fairy, stuck, slight fingering, creampie.

18+ only please, the gif and headers I use aren't mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

Ari had gone out to gather some berries and vegetables from your little garden outside the cabin, ensuring you’d be stocked up for the rapidly approaching winter. While he was out picking, you were fluttering around the house, ensuring things were clean and neat. Since you met Ari that fateful night, becoming his partner, the cabin also became your home. 

You had been cleaning all day in your human form, making sure you could cut the cleaning time in half with your size before finding a spot that no large thing could reach. You wave your hand, allowing your magic to dance over you and shrink you into your fairy form. You fly over to the area, noticing through the small hole that it has become dirty. You knew Ari didn’t care about these things, but you did. So, you began to clean, softly groaning as you kept missing a few spots, pulling yourself further into the tiny hole, your hips catching onto the sides. You wiggle, huffing when you realise that you are stuck. “Oh no… I do hope Ari gets back soon.” You let out a cute little sneeze as the dust tickles your nose. 

Ari grins at the basket in his hands, loving that it’s filled to the brim and that he can show you what he’s managed to gather. He heads into the cabin, setting down the basket on the table and then looks around confused, wondering where you are as you usually came to greet him. “Fairy? Bear here!” He grunts, scrunching his nose. “Little Fairy?!” Ari begins to walk deeper into the house, becoming worried that something may have happened to you.

“I’m here, Bear. I’m okay. I’m just stuck...” You sigh and allow magic to flow through you, appearing before your man.

Ari stares at the bright ball, following it as it slowly leads him to where you are stuck. The ball disappears when Ari stops where you are, and his eyes widen. “Oh, Fairy! How?” He can’t deny that his cock twitches when his eyes land on your exposed arse, your dress lifted from wiggling. “Stuck?” You still weren’t able to teach him how to speak proper sentences, but you found it endearing with his short answers. Knowing he tries so hard, his face always scrunches up, trying to find the right things to say, and the thing you love most about him is even though it becomes hard for him sometimes, he never gives up. 

“Yeah, Bear. I’m stuck, and my magic cannot get me out of this one.” You pout, not noticing that the more you wiggle, the more that becomes exposed, causing the giant bear behind you to become aroused. “Could you please help me?” 

Ari nods, too preoccupied with how your arse jiggles and your sweet honey pot glistens. He licks his lips at the thought of honey and how delicious you taste. “Help after,” Ari growls out, quickly ridding himself free from his pants and gripping his thick, monstrous cock. He begins to stroke it, grunting as pre-cum leaks from his angry tip.

“What? Ari, what do you mean after? Bear?” He ignores you, too lost in his mind now. You softly squeak as his finger connects with your dripping cunt. You now understand what is happening and allow your magic to wash over you. “You can enter, Bear.” You whimper when he pushes his thick finger inside, stretching you and curling it, ensuring you are wet enough to take him.

“Okay?”

“Okay.” Your head falls forward as he pulls his finger out and replaces it with his member. His tip stretches you wide as Ari pushes in. “Oh, god…” He rests his hands against the wood, fucking into you harder and faster, enjoying how your tight walls squeeze him. 

“Not god.” Ari growls, fucking into you harder. “I Bear!” Your tiny body rocks back and forth, and your eyes roll back as the pleasure intensifies. Your walls pulsate like crazy around Ari, causing a groan to slip out. “My Fairy!” Your arousal builds, leaking alongside his thick base, coating him and creating a white creamy ring. “So pretty and tiny.” He hums, staring down at your stretched-out cunt with a dazed look, entranced by how hot it looks. 

Your fingers curl, nails digging into your palm. “B–bear! I’m going to–” You cut yourself off with a strangled moan. Your vision becomes white as your walls squeeze around him, and your juices squirt out of you. You fall limp, exhaustion hitting you. Ari continues to thrust into you, throwing his head back as his balls tighten, cock twitching. He releases thick amounts of cum into you, coating your walls. 

Once Ari empties himself, his cock softens, and he slowly pulls out of you. “Bear, help now.” He grumbles, wiping off the sweat on his forehead before punching the wood, snapping it enough to rip it away and pull you out of the tiny hole. He lies you on the palm of his hand, looking down at you with a soft look, “Fairy, okay?” 

You snuggle into his palm, looking up at him with a sleepy smile. “I’m okay, Bear. Thank you.” You give him a soft tap and sigh as he moves you to the chair. Your hand waves, and you feel your body slowly grow, allowing you to become human-sized. You stretch, kissing Ari’s palm as he rests it on your cheek. “How did your picking go, Bear?” 

The smile on his face makes you think he’d be able to brighten up a room with how bright and gorgeous it is. Ari quickly moves over to the basket and brings it back to you, showing you the many things he picked. You smile, eyes dancing around the many different colours. “You did wonderful, Bear! I could maybe make some soup for dinner and a pie for dessert.” You slowly stand, legs feeling like jelly. 

Ari places the basket back down and pulls you into him by the hips. He looks down at you with such love and adoration, like he cannot believe he has you in his life. “Bear love Fairy… S–so much.” He wraps an arm around your waist while his hand cups your cheek, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss on your lips. “Pretty Fairy.”

You smile, eyes becoming clouded with love. “I love you too, Bear, so much. My big handsome bear.” Your hand rests flat on his chest, and the other cups his cheek, stroking the soft beard underneath before moving up to scratch between his cute bear ears. “Why don’t you get some rest? You’ve been working so hard lately.” Your lashes flutter as you continue to stare up at him. “I’ll prepare dinner, okay?” 

Ari shakes his head, huffing. He peppers kisses against your face, smiling at how beautiful you look. “I help.” 

That night you and Ari make dinner, and as that is cooking, he helps you prepare dessert. You couldn’t have wished for anything better. He’d wrap you in his arms as you made the food before pulling you over to the couch, holding you against him while you both waited for dinner. Your hand rested against your stomach, knowing that when you finally told the news to Ari, he would be so happy. You’d finally have everything you had ever wished for. 

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[tomomiisasleep]

notes on Harryanthe which I am crazy about, in HtN

this dumb little interaction just stuck with me. I mean they're almost always high-strung in the detailed plot, like in almost every one of the Ianthe-centered scenes one of them is in some kind of pain

but I know they have chill moments. mundane moments. petty arguments, like the one in the post scrips of the letter. And I so badly want to read those!!

anyways. I'm gonna start collecting scraps here.

you might have given Ianthe Tridentarius the pleasure of opening the note labelled Upon the death of Harrowhark Nonagesimus. Your only hope for that note was that it contained a single sentence along the lines of, Get what joy you can from my corpse, you devious bitch, but it was written by a previous self and you could not risk a guess.

Harrow: what if I didnt hate her and that makes me wanna have a lobotomy yeah that makes sense

Once, vilely, from Ianthe; she had ensconced you in fat and rolled you down the hallway out of danger, and still laughed whenever she thought about it.

ok this is just Ianthe being a little pest, but it also means that she talks about this and laughs in Harrow's face, which makes her a little bitch, but also like it means they often chat and Ianthe would be like: Yeah today I tried the theorem on apples again, but I tweaked it by directing the flow of thalergy from- hey Harry do u remember the time I saved your life hahahahahaha

The mockery you endured for needing her proximity was exquisitely painful, but humiliation was steadily becoming your existence whole and entire.

I want to know what exactly this mockery entails

It had been very nicely matched to the original until she had ceased using it altogether, and the difference was more pronounced each day. Unconscious of your critical eye, she scratched fretfully at the line until red hives appeared.

Ianthe squirming under Harrow's gaze for once

She was in a filthy mood, if she was wearing that thing, with her arm exposed.

Harrow has been keeping tabs on the state of her arm problem ever since she first woke up on the Erobos. Same as how Ianthe has been keeping tabs on the results of her lobotomy.

she said, blue eyed, those oily little freckles glittering almost pinkly above the dress. They reflected the red rims of her eyelids. You thought that she had been crying.

yeah stare at her eyelids Harrow, and sniff her discreetly all the time, sweat musk vetiver am I right (also have I expressed how crazy it drives me that she wears masculine perfume??????????? no well IT'S SO *faints*

You got better autopsies of her encounters with Beasts than you did from your own, as Augustine was wont to explain significantly more to her than either he or Mercy did to you.

Ugh why why why in this whole book I have not seen them talk shop with each other even once??? Except Harrow showing off after making the arm. Harrow has discussions with Pal all the time in GtN. clearly she trades notes on necromancy with Ianthe frequently. but no, gloss over Ianthe's intellect and just write her freak(fond) moments

You had once been fool enough to recommend that Ianthe take them down, at which point she had rustled up another from the bathroom and hung it in pride of place above an overpainted dresser.

love her

“Oh, heaps,” said Ianthe, who appeared not to have taken offence at your rejection. It was so impossible to tell, with Ianthe. “I made it. It’s vile.”

Maybe she really doesn't care about the rejection or even likes it, but "so impossible to tell" kinda hints that, well she might be hurt,maybe, there just isn't any proof

It was not a connection formed of any mutual admiration; if anything, the more you saw of Ianthe the less likely you were to mistake her for likeable. She made herself like an overdecorated cake: covered so thickly in icing and fondants and gums that it would take serious excavation to find any bread. As a necromancer she was a genius, though you thought she relied too much on shortcuts and circumventions. She had an exceptionally fine mind. She was not afraid of rigour.

If Harrow doesn't have the hots for her at least I do.

Honestly on my first read I took stuff like "not likeable" and "“Tell me to stop breathing,” she said. (“I have, on multiple occasions,” you said.)" at face value and actually thought Harrow genuinely hates her and is forced to interact with her because there's no one else. Which is true. But she's also very attracted to her and I kinda overlooked it at because I thought those feelings were mutually exclusive. And they're not. which I'm obsessed with.

Or she won't think Ianthe's beautiful and note details about how she dresses all the time.

Seriously Harrow's special fixation on "how Ianthe's clothes make her look" is hard to ignore.

for example:

The mother-of-pearl made Ianthe’s hair a lurid yellow and threw up all the mustard tints of her skin; her face was blotchy, and her eyes were sleepless pits. She looked like shit.

The skirts and waists were all beautifully cut for someone of a different height and body type than Ianthe possessed. They were tight where they should have been loose and loose where they should have been tight. They looked like her burial clothes, and she looked as though she had emerged fifty years after that burial.

she answered after a long, scuffling minute, with sleep in her eyes and her hair in dilute whey tangles over her neck and shoulders, wearing a bewildering short garment of violet chiffon.

The back was open, and you could see the fine dents of her spine—her bleached skin bluer and sweeter against the pallid gossamer—and the twin blades of her shoulder blades looked strangely nude and vulnerable to you.

Ianthe was training in her nightgown—a grisly floor-length concoction of pale golden lace that made her long, limber body look like a green-veined mummy

a lone wax figure in pale purple chiffon, tall and colourless—except in the greasy metal of her bone arm, which the lights rendered all the colours of the rainbow.

Ianthe rose soundlessly to her feet, and the long skirts of her nightgown—a brilliant ruffled canary-yellow silk that made her look like a formal lemon—rustled restively around her calves.

Note that Harrow focuses on Ianthe's clothes for how they shape Ianthe's appearance. in contrast:

she ignored your sister, whose pallid eyebrows had shot up so fast and so far that they were in danger of breaking the atmosphere. Mercymorn wore a long slip of peach-coloured silk, and her white Canaanite robe was tucked over her forearms and had slipped entirely off her slender, aggrieved shoulders. She had scraped her hair into a merciless and shining coil at the back of her head, and she had no eyes for either of you.

Obviously Mercy is SUPER HOT here, if Ianthe's reaction means anything. But Harrow only describes her clothing and not how she looks. Same with Augustine's party outfit.

With Ianthe, it's always: she's wearing ..., which makes her look gross. And I did not understand at first but now I know and feel stongly that Harrow is totally into her gross-hotness. well at least I am. the grosser she's described the hotter she is.

[x-press-it]

The Morning You Needed

If Only You’d Known How Much He Adores You 🎞️❤️‍🔥🌹✅

Worshiping!Logan Howlett x fem reader

Summary: Struggling with executive paralysis, you’re trapped in bed, unable to shake the weight of the morning fog. Logan, noticing your absence, comes looking for you—never expecting to find you lost in a moment of self-care.

Content Warnings: Smut 18+ (Fingering) - Worshiping!Logan - Pet Names (Darling, sweetheart, princess, and more...) - Reader Notes: No Y/N, no physical description of the reader, no mention of powers - Fluff and Emotional Vulnerability: Deep feelings, mutual pining - Worship Themes: Religious imagery and reverent language - Mental Health: Executive Dysfunction - Trope: Coworkers to lovers. I'm back after 10 years of iatus and fairly new to how things are done on tumblr now, so sorry if I missed any warnings. Also english isn't my first language so there might be typos/weird sentences...

Notes: Got that idea during an Executive Paralysis and I absolutely had to write it. I also got inspired by some of @gothgoblinbabe writings. Cover made with canva from an idea I got from this post. Click on the divider to find the creator. Also first text I got to finish quickly and I'm very happy about it.

Word Count: 3.8K

You lay in bed, the world outside your door humming along, oblivious. The clock ticked past noon, each minute gnawing at your sense of urgency. You knew you should get up, throw yourself into whatever needed doing today, but you felt…stuck. It was like this most days, as if your mind held your body hostage, whispering all the reasons to stay still, to ignore the day stretching beyond the safety of your blankets.

An edge of desperation crept in as you stared at the ceiling, urging your limbs to move, but they stayed as heavy as stone. You needed a shock, something to tear through the fog in your mind. And only one thought did that lately: Logan.

Your feelings for him were complicated—a growing crush that left you wishing he could be more than just a coworker or a friend. But that’s all he was. It was foolish, maybe, but the way he’d look at you sometimes made it hard to keep your imagination in check. Just thinking his name sent a warm shiver down your spine, a fire sparking low in your belly. It felt a little shameless—okay, maybe more than a little—but you needed something. So, you let yourself go there, let the memory of his gruff, knowing smile fill your mind, his voice, that low rumble, wrapping around you.

You slid a hand down your body, passing the hem of your panties; finding your clit, fingers grazing your skin, teasing yourself with little touches, hoping for that spark to grow into something strong enough to bring you to the edge and shot something powerful enough to let you get up. But as your fingers worked, moving with practiced rhythm, something was missing. You could feel yourself getting wet, your body reacting, but it wasn’t…enough. The sensation remained dull, just on the edge of pleasure, refusing to give you the relief you needed.

Frustration built, and you let out a soft, needy sigh, the sound of it almost foreign to your own ears. “Logan…” you whispered, his name spilling out on instinct, but even saying it out loud did nothing to stoke the fire. You tried again, a little more insistently, your hand moving faster, pressing harder, but the ache in your chest only grew as the release you needed slipped further away.

“Please…” you whimpered, barely aware of the soft plea in your voice. Your lips parted as you mumbled his name again, breath hitching as if the sound alone could bring him here, could make your fantasies real enough to touch. “Logan… I need you… please…”

The air in the hallway thickened as Logan reached your door, every inch of his body keenly aware of the quiet but unmistakable sounds drifting out from your room. He’d been looking for you, a little concerned when you hadn’t shown up in the dining room with the others, but he hadn’t expected to find you still in bed at this hour. And he sure as hell hadn’t expected…this.

Your voice, hushed and breathy, sent a shock through him, making his fists clench at his sides. The way you murmured his name, as if he were the only thing you needed, tugged at something deep inside him. His jaw tightened as he strained to listen, torn between stepping away and giving you the privacy he’d unintentionally invaded—or giving in to the primal pull to walk in and be exactly what you seemed to need.

A frustrated, desperate sigh escaped your lips, almost a plea, and the scent of your need grew stronger, filling the hallway and his senses until his restraint nearly shattered. Before he knew it, his hand was on the door, pushing it open in a single, decisive motion.

You didn’t hear the creak of your bedroom door until it was too late.

When you opened your eyes, there he was, Logan standing in your doorway, watching you. His expression was intense, raw, the guarded look he usually wore completely gone. You froze, heat flooding your cheeks, but your body betrayed you, heart pounding as you realized he’d heard every word. And he wasn’t moving back.

He took a step inside, closing the door softly behind him, his gaze holding you captive. “Sorry, darlin’,” he murmured, using a nickname you’d never earned from him before, his voice thick, rough around the edges. His eyes roamed over you in a way that made your breath catch—as if he’d been fighting this moment longer than he’d ever admit. “Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

But the way he looked at you, the way he stayed right there, told you he was anything but sorry.

Recovering from the shock, you jerked your hand away from your panties as if burned, heart pounding and face on fire. Caught didn’t even begin to cover it—you’d been caught fantasizing about him. And it wasn’t just any daydream. You’d let yourself fall into the idea of his hands, his mouth, his low growl against your skin, the thought of his face buried between your thighs driving you wild.

But now he was right there, larger than life, his piercing gaze fixed on you. A wave of panic flooded through you, and you searched for something to say, some way to explain yourself without making it worse, but all the clever words you usually had seemed to vanish. You were always quick with a retort, always strong and sure, but now? Now, you could barely meet his eyes, fumbling for words like a nervous kid.

A soft, “Shh… it’s okay, sweetheart,” rumbled from him, low and soothing as he crossed the room. He wasn’t upset—hell, he didn’t even look surprised. Instead, there was something else in his eyes, something gentler, maybe even…concerned? He settled onto the edge of the bed, the weight dipping beside you as his hand came to rest on your shoulder, thumb brushing in soft, reassuring circles.

You rolled to your side, burying your face in your pillow, wishing the mattress would just swallow you whole. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled, voice muffled by the fluffy cushion. You didn’t dare look at him, feeling his warmth beside you, his steady palm now traveling to your shoulder blade.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, voice so soft and kind it almost undid you right there. He started tracing comforting patterns and you could feel the warmth of his hand through your t-shirt. And then he paused, giving you a moment to breathe. “Talk to me, darlin’.”

Here it was again, that nickname you had so desperately wished for and your grip on the pillow tightened, the words slipping out despite yourself. “I… I’m stuck,” you admitted, barely a whisper. “I needed a…boost to… get out of bed.”

The silence settled between you, thick with a mixture of embarrassment and curiosity. You could feel the way he was watching you, his gaze so intense it made your skin prickle.

“Does that happen a lot?” he asked, his voice gentle, almost as if he were talking you through a storm. You nodded, still refusing to look up, knowing how vulnerable this felt. “Almost every morning,” you admitted, the words nearly catching in your throat.

“And… do you make yourself come every time?” His voice was low, but there was a raw, hungry edge to it now that made you ache even more. You felt heat flood your cheeks, the silence between his question and your answer practically crackling.

“Most days,” you said, so softly it was barely more than a breath.

He let that settle, and then, his last question fell, just a hint of roughness in it. “Thinkin’ of me?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. But the sudden warmth at the tips of your ears, the way your face burned, pressing even harder against the pillow, was all the answer he needed. He stayed there, hand still tracing those soft circles on your back, closer than ever, and you could feel every inch of his presence, his silent understanding.

Logan’s hand stilled for a heartbeat, and you could feel him leaning closer, his breath brushing along your temple. “Then let me help you, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice soft and reassuring, the offer lingering between you, unspoken but unmistakable.

The words barely registered. Your mind scrambled to process them as they settled over you like a blanket you hadn’t realized you needed. What? You pushed yourself up on your elbows, eyes wide, almost demanding him to say it again, to prove you hadn’t misheard.

“If that’s what gets you up, then… let me help,” he said, a gentle smile softening his usually hard features as he replaced a strand of your hair behind your ear. He was serious—honest, even. A flicker of something warm and sincere lingered in his eyes, a quiet honor in knowing you reached for thoughts of him in those intimate moments. And yet, you shook your head, feeling a pang of doubt.

“No, Logan,” you murmured, swallowing hard as you pushed away the thought of pity or obligation. “I don’t want you doing this because you feel like you… have to. I don’t want that.”

A moment of silence stretched between you, heavy but not tense, as Logan’s gaze softened even more. “I don’t feel like I have to,” he whispered, voice rough yet impossibly gentle. “I want to. I want to help you.” He let out a breath, barely audible, as his eyes held yours. “I want you.”

Those words, so earnest, so raw, carved straight through you, catching the breath in your chest. You searched his face for anything that might prove it was a lie, a flicker of doubt, anything to suggest he didn’t mean what he’d just confessed. But his gaze remained steady, almost reverent, as though he couldn’t believe his own luck. In that gaze, you saw nothing but honesty, and in that honesty, a hunger that mirrored your own.

“Just tell me what you need, princess,” he murmured, voice deep and devout, making your skin burn. “Tell me, and I’ll do it.”

A rush of heat washed over you as he leaned closer, his breath mingling with yours, and you couldn’t help the warmth that spread between your thighs, the ache for him burning hotter than before. A shiver ran through you, and with a nod, you swallowed, barely managing to whisper, “Touch me…” the desperation clear in your voice. “Kiss me…”

In a heartbeat, his hand was on your face, the roughness of his fingers a gentle caress that grounded you as he tilted your face up toward his. His lips brushed against yours, soft at first, tasting, savoring, and then he sank into the kiss with a low, guttural moan that sent a shock straight through you. The room blurred, everything fading until there was only him, his lips coaxing you, drawing every ounce of want to the surface, and you melted into it, letting the world fall away.

A soft groan escaped your lips as his free hand found your knee, inching up against your thigh, each touch of his fingers sparking under your skin until every nerve felt alert, humming. When he slipped his fingers under the hem of your panties, a shudder tore through you, and before you could even think to hold back, you gasped against his mouth, arching into his touch as his thumb found its way to your clit. The warmth of his fingers was nothing like your own touch—it was electric, hot, setting fire to your senses as he began those slow, teasing circles.

He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his own brimming with something almost tender as he murmured words against your lips. “You’re so beautiful… can hardly keep my eyes off you most days. You drive me crazy, y’know that?”

The confession, paired with his touch, made your skin burn even hotter. You spread your legs a little wider, instinctively inviting him closer, letting him take his time as he pressed warm kisses down your neck, each one sending a fresh wave of heat down your spine. His lips traveled lower, igniting every inch of skin he touched, until he brushed over the thin fabric covering your chest. He paused, and your breath caught as he pressed a slow, open-mouthed kiss over the peak of your breast through your t-shirt.

Your fingers clutched the sheets under them, gripping hard as his thumb continued its torturously slow circles, your body wriggling beneath him. But as another one of his finger slipped inside you, a moan escaped, deeper, rawer than before. He moved slowly at first, teasing, letting you feel every inch of him, every subtle twist and curl of his fingers. Your whole body tensed, feeling the tension coil tighter and tighter in your belly as a second finger joined in, reaching places you couldn’t on your own, working you in a rhythm that had you quivering under him.

Feeling the building heat, you couldn’t hold back anymore. With a desperate exhale, you reached for the hem of your shirt, tugging it up, exposing your breasts to his hungry gaze. “Lick…” The single word fell from your lips, soft but insistent—a perfect blend of a plea and an order, the only way you knew how to ask.

A lazy, pleased grin stretched across his face as he lowered himself, meeting your eyes with a flicker of mischief. “Yeah? Whatever you need, sweetheart…”

And then his mouth was on you, his tongue warm and firm as he began to taste the skin of your stomach, teasing, and the sound you made was something you’d never heard from yourself before. It was raw, unguarded, and he took it as permission, his mouth traveling up, his fingers never slowing as he found every spot that made you shudder, that made you melt around him, fully under his spell.

Words started spilling from his mouth as he murmured against your skin like a prayer, his voice thick with reverence as he whispered things you never imagined would pour from his lips. “You’re so damn perfect,” he breathed, the heat of his words sinking into you as his mouth moved over your nipple, his tongue tracing circles, slow and deliberate, leaving you aching, raw with need. His free hand cupped your other breast, thumb brushing over the sensitive peak in the same worshipful rhythm, his fingers kneading with a gentleness that only made you more breathless.

“Could do this every morning… if you ordered me to,” he murmured, his words laced with devotion, his voice unlike anything you’d ever heard before. The softness, the way he touched you, spoke to you as though you were something holy—it made you shiver.

He paused, lifting his head just enough to meet your gaze. The look in his eyes was nothing short of adoration, and the intensity made your chest tight. “I’d worship you, body and soul, if you wanted me to,” he went on, each word like a promise, thick and raw, like he was saying something forbidden, something sacred. “I’d be content just to be… the dog sleeping at your perfect feet.”

The sheer need in his tone—like he’d surrender everything just for a chance to touch you like this ever again—sent you spiraling. You clung to him, his words igniting something deep within you, a desire that felt endless, consuming. Each touch, each gentle pinch, only drove you closer, made your whole body taut with need.

“You’re a queen, divine,” he whispered, his hand pressing down, fingers pinching and rolling over the sensitive peak of your breast, but also curling and scissoring in your wet core, drawing a moan from you that he swallowed with his mouth, as though the air you breathed out was blessed. “And I’d be anything you wanted, just to have permission to look at you like this whenever you’d allow.”

The devotion in his voice, the reverence, held a depth you’d never felt before. Every nerve in your body was on fire, drawn tight and ready to unravel.

His fingers moved within you in perfect rhythm, coaxing and curling with an exquisite control that only made you melt deeper into him. He felt you tightening, your body responding to every movement, and he leaned closer, his voice like a gentle request and a plea all at once. “That’s it,” he coaxed, his tone devout and low, “Let yourself fall… I’ll catch you, my Goddess… my everything.”

And as his words wrapped around you, you let yourself go, falling into a release that tore a gasp from your lips, his name leaving you in a breathless, broken whisper before you dissolved into laughter, unable to contain the sheer, overwhelming rush that coursed through you. You shook with the pleasure of it, his steady hand guiding you through, his fingers keeping a perfect pace as you rode the waves, your body arching, your breath ragged.

He didn’t stop, his gaze locked on yours, watching you, almost spellbound. The look in his eyes, pride mixed with something almost… awestruck, as if he couldn’t believe he was the reason behind every sound, every tremble. A smirk tugged at his lips, but there was a tenderness there too, a softness that made your heart race all over again.

Finally, a sigh slipped from you, your body melting into the bed, limbs relaxed and loose, the intensity fading into a satisfied numbness. He stayed beside you, fingers brushing a soft caress along your side, his eyes warm as he leaned close. “Good?” he asked, the hint of a chuckle in his voice, though his expression was still reverent, soft.

The answer was written all over you, your body relaxed in a way that left no doubt. With a soft sigh, you nodded, letting yourself sink back into the moment.

“Better than I've been in a long time,” you admitted, the honesty coming out almost in a whisper. Before he could respond, you sat up, cupping his jaw in both hands, pressing a kiss to his lips, slow and filled with everything you couldn’t put into words.

“Thanks,” you murmured, brushing your nose against his in a quiet moment of affection.

He held your gaze steadily, his expression a mixture of softness and something fierce beneath it. “Anything for you, darlin’,” he replied, the sincerity in his voice resonating through you. “Anytime.”

A small, shy smile tugged at your lips under the weight of his gaze. The intensity there made your heart skip, and without thinking, you ducked your head, pressing yourself into his neck, wrapping your arms around him tightly. You could faintly feel his heartbeat under your cheek, steady and grounding.

“Is this real?” you found yourself mumbling, a part of you still wondering if you were about to wake up.

His hands rubbed slow, soothing circles over your shoulder blade. “Yeah, sweetheart, it’s real,” he murmured against your hair, chuckling softly.

You nodded, and the moment lingered a little longer as you noticed his hands trailing down your back, brushing lightly enough that a hint of heat rose between you again. You pressed closer, feeling the evidence of his own desire still lingering beneath the denim of his jeans, hard and unyielding against you.

“What about you?” you asked softly, feeling the slight twitch of his hands on your waist.

His gaze dropped, a faint, almost self-conscious smile playing on his lips. “I can wait,” he replied, voice low, a hint of gravel to it. He met your eyes, his expression warm, reassuring. But as he held your gaze, something in his eyes promised that, whenever you had time, he’d still be there, waiting for you.

His words reminded you of the day ahead, the responsibilities waiting, and with a deep breath, you reluctantly pulled yourself back, your body protesting the loss of his warmth as you moved to stand. You gave him a rueful smile, glancing at the stack of clean clothes that still sat on the chair by your desk, needing to be put away, from which you pulled some underwear, a shirt and pants. His eyes stayed on you, a steady, silent presence even as you dressed.

Tentatively, you extended your hand to him, silently inviting him to get up, but instead, he caught it, pulling you back to him with a gentle tug. His head pressed against your stomach, hands wrapping behind your thighs as he inhaled deeply, his nose brushing the fabric of your shirt, breathing you in like he was memorizing every part of you.

The moment felt like a quiet confession, unspoken but profound, and your fingers found their way to his hair, combing through the strands in slow, comforting motions.

“I could stay here forever,” he murmured, his voice a warm, rough whisper that seemed to settle in the depths of you.

The words felt like they carried a weight he hadn’t quite meant to say out loud, but he didn’t pull back. Instead, his arms found their way to your waist, wrapping around you, holding you like he wasn’t ready to let go. His warmth spread through you, and you couldn’t help but feel the tug of something deeper, something that made you want to sink into this moment for as long as it would last.

You brushed a gentle kiss to the top of his head, savoring the feeling of him so close. “I could, too,” you whispered, barely louder than a breath, feeling the vulnerability of it even as you spoke. And when his grip tightened just a bit, you knew he’d heard you.

But time pulled at you both, and eventually, you forced yourself to take a step back, feeling the coolness of the room where his warmth had been. He looked up at you with that same, steady devout gaze, as if you were the only thing that mattered.

“Guess we’ve both got things to do,” he murmured as he stood, his voice reluctant, fingers brushing over yours, hesitant before reaching out and wrapping his hand around yours, a bit tentative, as if unsure if you'd welcome the contact.

You nodded, giving his hand a soft, reassuring squeeze, your silent way of saying you felt it too, that you were in this together.

Slowly, you both made your way to the door, side by side, neither of you willing to rush this. You glanced at him as you reached the doorway, catching the way he watched you, his gaze carrying a warmth and intensity that made your pulse stutter.

The promise in his eyes lingered, and it held a quiet certainty. Despite the end of this perfect moment, you knew it was only the beginning.

Notes: If you enjoyed it, don't forget to comment and spread the love 😊 More on the way!

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[heavenlycloud]

arachnophobia~ spiderman au  kim minji x fem! reader

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚

authors note: i wrote this for @tzuyuscloud months ago for their birthday and never got around to posting it. i don't plan on writing for nwjns in the future tho, this was just a special request for a friend!

p.s. im sick rn and running on soda, pancakes, and cough syrup so i hope this makes sense cuz im a lil hopped up on stuff rn

tw// swearing, blood, violence

the clock tower across campus struck loudly across campus, indicating the top of the hour. you rolled your eyes at the sound and wished they’d only use it during daylight hours instead of when everyone was trying to sleep. diverting your attention back to your laptop, you added a few more sentences to the Literature paper you were writing before closing the top. it was deep into the night so you quickly washed up and changed into pajamas before heading off to bed since you had a morning class. an hour must have passed when you jumped upon hearing a loud thud followed by a crash of items clattering to the floor in the room nearest yours. quickly, you sprang up and tried to open your roommate’s door which was locked from the other side. for a moment it was silent which only made you frantically jiggle the doorknob harder in an attempt to help the girl on the other side. loudly, you called out, “minji?! are you good bro?” from the other side of the door you could hear her cussing rapidly in english and korean in a hushed whisper. after a moment she called out, voice slightly strained, “yeah uh i’m fine. i just knocked over some stuff on my nightstand. i’m fine though you can leave.” you furrowed your brows in confusion before awkwardly answering, “uh.. um okay yeah. goodnight, i’ll see you in class tomorrow morning.”  right when you settled into bed you thought aloud to yourself, “what nightstand? we don’t even have those in our rooms?” however, you didn’t let yourself think too much of it and shrugged off the thought so you could go back to sleep. 

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚ 

the next morning you woke up and got dressed for class as you normally did but this morning minji wasn’t getting ready with you. instead of thinking too much of it, you told yourself she was probably sleeping in a few minutes longer. nine o’ clock rolled around and minji was still nowhere to be found so you went to her door and banged on it, LOUDLY. when there was still no answer you called out, “minji- bro come on we have our literature exam today! lets go!” for nearly two minutes you were calling out to her before you had to leave. minji wasn’t one to skip class so you just stuck with thinking maybe she got an earlier start and was already in class. the walk to the lecture hall was quieter than normal without minji by your side. your roommate’s daily spiel of gossip that she’d overheard from classmates was dearly missed at this early hour. the second you walked into your lecture hall, one of your other classmates, haewon, waved you over. she groaned and put down the book she was skimming in her hand, “god i can’t wait for this lesson to be over.” she pushed the text away from her in disgust, and you laughed, “well we have the exam today, and the paper due next class so it’ll be over soon!” she looked past you a bit then asked, “wait where’s minji?” you craned your neck and squinted to try and see if she was in the large lecture hall but she still hadn’t shown. with a shrug you responded, “i don’t know. i thought she was already here but i guess not.” haewon pulled out her phone and frowned, “she hasn’t texted me either…” before the two of you could do anything else, your professor entered the classroom with a thick packet of exams. your stomach wound itself into knots at the realization that minji would be missing this exam. she had already missed class six times this semester, so this absence would be the one to make a failing grade for the semester. when your professor got to your row with the exams in hand, she looked at the empty seat next to you with a face of disapproval. you awkwardly gave a weak smile and passed the packets down your row before starting on your own test. 

half an hour passed leaving 45 minutes left in the class before you all had to leave. from the looks of your other classmates, this exam was a tough one. beside you, haewon was sound asleep with her exam under her arms. you looked up at the door when you heard rushed footsteps and labored breathing, followed by the door closing. minji rushed up to her seat and sat down, not sparing a second to catch her breath before starting her exam. her appearance was slightly more dishevled than she’d normally deem acceptable but you remained silent. for the rest of the exam period you worked on the test trying to match paces with haewon and minji so that the two of you could leave together at the end. despite arriving thirty minutes late for class, minji managed to complete her exam in fifteen minutes, before you and haewon. not even a minute after the three of you exited the classroom you demanded, “bro, where the hell were you this morning?” haewon agreed and added on, “yeah and why are you dressed like adam sandler?” the two of you onced over the oversized t shirt and baggy basketball shorts that she sported with a pair of sneakers you’d never seen before. you wrinkled your nose and added, “and why do you smell like a burnt gas station?” 

minji shrugged off your questions as nonchalantly as she could, “there was an emergency at HQ and they called me in to help-” you cut her off, “wouldn’t they just call someone else? you don’t even work there?” minji’s cheeks flushed at the realization that you had a point and she quickly explained, “it was one of those ‘all hands on deck’ things. i was available to help so i did. anyways, i was tired so i stayed with a friend who lived nearby, and i had to borrow some clothes. and i was fixing hanni’s car again, it stopped on the side of the road because she forgot to fill it with gas, it’s not a big deal.” you pretended to be unbothered by the remark but something about the slight limp she had and bruises on her legs made your stomach wind into knots. when you looked back up at her face she caught your eyes lingering on her shins with a slightly uneasy stare. nervously she laughed, “lets go to JavaBean before our next class, my treat.” haewon was already linking arms with you and tugging you along, happily murmuring, “i love that she has that new internship with Samsung. i don’t have to pay for stuff anymore because she keeps treating us.” 

haewon turned her phone around and showed you and minji the screen, “did you all see this? that spiderperson stopped a bunch of people from robbing a bank downtown last night! they released the footage this morning.” you watched as the masked assailents attempted to take on the local hero all at once. from the corner of your eye you could see minji shifting uncomfortably in her seat as she watched the video. you looked at her and asked, “isn’t this place right by the samsung building you were at last night? and the footage says it happened around the time you were out. did you see anything?” minji’s eyes widened and she looked down at her iced latte, “no i was inside the building working. we heard the sirens but i didn’t see anything besides police cars up from the windows on my floor.” haewon pouted and said, “damn i wish you’d seen something. i wanna know who this hero is- they’re kinda hot.” you and minji choked on your iced coffees and you laughed, “they wear a mask, you don’t even know if they’re actually hot.” haewon explained, “i mean the act of kicking ass in a spandex suit is hot. but i wouldn’t be surprised if they were good looking too. i’ve seen movies.” minji laughed and shook her head before you turned your attention back to the video. you noticed the way the hero crumpled to the ground when one of the robbers kicked their left knee, coincidentally the same one minji had been babying all day. 

at the end of the school day you found minji in the main room of your shared apartment with her laptop over her lap, and chemistry papers scattered around the coffee table. the second she noticed your presence she slammed her laptop closed and scrambled to gather her papers and tuck them away. you furrowed your brows and awkwardly laughed, “why are you acting like a 12 year old getting caught on a 18+ website?” minji’s face was flushed red with panic and she tried to play it off, “just some uh…classified work stuff that’s all?” you pointed to her laptop, “and you’re doing highly classified work on a school laptop connected to public wifi?” minji rolled her eyes and shoved her computer into her backpack without a response, clearly having gotten caught in her lie. your gaze shifted to her legs where she now wore a pair of sweatpants, your sweatpants to be specific. her long sleeved t shirt rode up on one of her arms and your stomach formed a pit when you noticed small scratches and bruises along her skin. 

“what happened?” you asked, motioning to her arms with a curious but stern glance. minji quickly tugged her sleeve down and murmured, “nothing, don’t worry about it.” for a moment you almost let it go but decided otherwise knowing whatever was happening would continue if you didn’t try to help. you insisted, “no. you need to tell me what the hell is going on.” minji gave you a confused look and you persisted, “this whole thing where you’re disappearing late at night and not coming home? you keep blowing me and haewon off, not to mention that girl hanni came here the other night in tears thinking something happened to you because you hadn’t answered her calls in a week. why the hell do you keep coming back beat up and bruised?!” minji felt her face heat up and she immediately responded much more defensively than before, “i said don’t worry about it.” she got up and pushed past you before slamming her door, shaking the entire apartment with the force. 

for hours you tried to rationalize why minji was suddenly keeping so many secrets from you. what the hell was so secretive about a technology company internship, and why was it that she was only working on projects at night? the more you thought about the whole thing the more stuff started to make less sense. two weeks passed and you noticed minji coming in and out of your dorm at late hours, or just not coming home at all even more. although it wasn’t unusual for her to disappear during the night but you brushed it off knowing that she had that high demand, super prestigious Samsung internship. your suspicions only started to rise further when her bruises and bumps were too noticeable to hide. minji was more closed off towards you and all of your friends and you just missed your roommate, the dork with a 9:30 bedtime, a hermit crab collection, and a love for harry potter. so naturally you decided that you were going to figure out where she was constantly disappearing to since she wouldn’t ever give you a direct answer. 

minji left your apartment around 9:00 pm with the excuse of going out to meet a friend for the night, and potentially spending the night. you opened the find my iphone app on your home screen and opened it to see where minji really was. sure enough she was not at a friends house and actually in some old warehouse downtown. you followed the gps to the location and mumbled quietly to haewon who was on facetime, “what would she even be doing over there?” haewon shrugged and answered, “maybe she knows someone in there, you know that place is full of squatters.” you rolled your eyes and said, “she only talks to four people including us and her uncle. i’m not close with that hanni girl she’s friends with but i don’t think she squats in an old metal factory. but i’m here so i’m gonna hang up.” haewon told you firmly, “okay but if anything happens you need to leave okay?” you nodded and hung up before tucking your phone into your pocket. 

there was nearly no light inside of the old factory, just a few yellowed bulbs illuminating a few feet ahead of you. broken windows offered rays of moonlight to pool where the bulbs couldn’t, making it only a bit brighter. you pulled your black hood over your head and tucked yourself into a dark corner of the factory just to see if minji was actually there. a group of burly men were huddled together around the center of the floor, taunting a smaller figure between all of them. when one of them moved you saw the familiar carnelian red and navy blue spider suit peeked from the middle. you gasped and felt your heart sink as the men tormented the hero who was already in bad shape. instead of staying you looked at your phone to see that minji’s location was now somewhere else in the city. despite wanting to stay and possibly help the young hero, you knew that it was safer for you to sneak out the way you came in. quickly, you hustled down a flight of stairs and slipped out one of the broken walls into a dark alleyway that would lead to a main street after a few blocks. as you walked down the street you turned back when you heard a blood curdling scream, it sounded all too familiar but you turned back and listened to haewon’s advice, hoping to the heavens above the person screaming wasn’t your best friend. 

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚ 

walking alone at night in this sketchy part of town wasn’t ideal but public transit wasn’t running at this hour and you weren’t paying for an uber because it wasn’t cheap. you could feel a pair of eyes on you despite nobody being around so you quickend your steps. just as you were about to break into a run a man jumped out from the darkness and blocked your path. there was a sinister smile on his face as he asked, “what’s a pretty thing like you doing out alone at this hour?” you swallowed your fear and stood your ground best you could, “going home. now, excuse me.” you tried to slip by him and the wall just for him to pin your body against it, causing your breath to hitch in your throat. 

the man’s face was inches from yours, his breath smelled of cigarettes and alcohol as it ghosted your lips when he smiled, “what’re you doin sweetpea?” you looked him dead in the eye and kept a stoic face before jamming your knee upwards, hitting him straight in the groin. he stumbled back and staggered onto the ground and you looked over him before kicking him in the same spot, adding one hard stomp after just for good measure. you then took off running, hearing him suddenly yelp you turned around to see the local hero in the spider suit shooting webs at him, sticking him to the alley wall. your eyes met the hero and you heard them yell, “run Y/N!” you didn’t even waste another second before you ran all the way back to your apartment, locking the doors behind you and barracading the door. it was after you took a shower and changed into your pajamas that you realized the masked hero said your name, and suddenly it all clicked. to test your theory, you needed solid, undeniable proof that your roommate was not who she said she was. 

you peeked into minji’s room through the cracked open door she had and you smiled seeing her window was in fact open. that’s definitely how she was getting in and out of your apartment every night without opening the front door. without wasting a second you pulled the window closed and locked it as tight as you could with a satisfied grin on your face. all you had to do now was wait for minji to get back home. 

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚ 

hours passed and after one long and surprisingly painful mission, minji was finally rushing back to your shared apartment. she sprinted across the grassy quad as quickly as she could, praying that nobody was going to be outside at this time of night. she frantically attempted to use her web shooters to swing up into the trees, her usual and most secretive way of getting around. however, after the fights she had last night and tonight, she knew it was a long shot. the teenage superhero smiled when she heard a familiar click, but it fell when her web shooters released a thin, miniscule amount of webs that wasn’t even the size of her arm. she cursed under her breath knowing she’d had to fix that before going to sleep, but all she wanted now was to get back into her room. finally she got to her dorm and looked up at her window which sat on the fourth floor of the dorm building you both were assigned to. she began climbing up, wincing as pain seared through her entire body but specifically on her abdomen where a nasty gash was still leaking blood. 

a feeling of dread washed over her when she realized her window was both closed and locked which she never did. she will admit she’d been out of it recently, forgetting to do some school assignments, showing up to club meetings, and she’d even screwed up on tonight’s mission resulting in the bloody wound on her side. the feeling of dread was replaced with panic when she heard a couple of students walking a short distance away. there were only a few seconds to spare before she was spotted so she scanned the floor to see if any windows were open. she saw yours, wide open just asking for her to enter. minji held her breath, hoping and praying that you would be asleep tonight. she quickly crawled through your window and up your walls onto the ceiling in an attempt to exit through your door to her room. the superhero made it to the middle of your ceiling when your light flicked on and you gasped, “ahh! what the fuck?! what the fuck? what the FUCK?!” you yanked the broom from your closet and started smacking the masked individual on your ceiling with it. just like a real spider, minji quickly dashed from one side of your ceiling to another, almost making it out of your room. that was until the broom jammed right into her abdomen, making her scream in pain and fall onto your floor with a loud thud. 

you immediately reached forward and snatched the mask off her head, ready to swing the broom on the stranger again and call the police. a small gasp left your lips when you realized it wasn’t a stranger but rather your own roommate of a year. she had her eyes closed in pain while tears pricked the side of her eyes, getting ready to roll down her cheeks. blood ran from her nose, purple and blue splotches peppered her brow bone, jaw, and cheek, while a cut over her lip had a thick patch of partially dried blood. you looked at her carnelian red suit that was darkening over her stomach area. her hand pressed over it and you urgently moved, “oh my god- minji!” she weakly smiled through a wince of pain, “hey, y/n.” you looked down at her and brought your hands to your head, “holy shit i was right- oh god- ok um…shit you’re bleeding on my rug.” you bent down to help her up, taking most of her body weight onto yourself while she hobbled with you to the bathroom. minji winced once more and you onced her over, “you need to take that off so i can clean your stomach.” immediately minji refused, “no i’m fine it’s just a little cut. you can go to sleep y/n, it’s fine. this is nothing new.” your heart clenched at hearing her last words but you were adamant, “no i’m helping you. minji, you can’t even stand up straight. so take it off so i can help you.” she sighed in defeat knowing that there was no point in trying to refuse because you wouldn’t let up, and honestly she did need help this time. minji pressed a button on her suit causing it to quickly retract up her arms and legs, leaving her in what was now a form fitting tank top and biker shorts version of her suit. 

minji placed her hand on her side, applying pressure to the cut before you gently lifted her onto the countertop of the bathroom. she shifted uncomfortably for a minute while you grabbed a handful of bandaging pads, gauze, and medical bandage tape. when you came back you carefully lifted her top to expose the wound. a small whine of pain left minji’s lips as you peeled the material from her bloodied skin. once that part was done you rinsed it with water, minji gripping onto your shoulder so she didn’t interfere with your help. while you cleaned it, you stated, “if it was any deeper i would’ve had to take you to the ER.” she remained silent at the remark, instead focusing on the way your hands tenderly took care of her wounded body. the teenager hissed as you began to dress the wound with layers of gauze and bandaging tape, throwing her head back to prevent tears from falling. afterwards, you placed small bandaids over the small cuts on her brow bone, temple, and jaw. minji could feel your eyes skimming her arms and legs, looking at the varying scars decorated with new bruises that she’d gotten in the past year. however, she was surprised when you didn’t mention a single word about any of it. instead, you finished up and said, “just avoid getting those wet when you shower, drink water and eat, and let your body rest. alright?” the superhero nodded and you said, “okay, i’m done. good night, i’ll see you in the morning.” minji mumbled a shy, “thank you” under her breath to which you smiled and assured her, “it’s no big deal.” 

you turned around to leave and minji grabbed your hand, “i’m spiderman or girl or woman or whatever. but it’s me.” slowly you turned to face and looked into her eyes, “minji, i know.” she sighed and pulled you closer to her as she still sat on the bathroom counter, her legs wrapped around your torso to keep you close, “no- i know that i just don’t want there to be any more secrets. i can’t keep lying to you.” she pulled your arms to rest on her shoulders as she held your waist and you prompted, “so what else should i know about my spiderwoman?” butterflies erupted in minji’s stomach and she cracked a smile through her split lip, wincing when it hurt slightly. she ran her knuckles along your side and she started, “i can shoot webs from my suit, i can crawl on walls, i’m pretty fast and i’m stronger than regular people, i heal faster so all of this will be fine tomorrow mostly, i have enhanced balance and reflexes, and i get this tingly feeling when i feel like there’s impending danger.” you looked at her asking for more and she continued, “i do really work for samsung though just not in the engineering program like you and haewon think. it’s this classified project so as much as i want to tell you more, i can’t because i don’t know much either right now."

you asked, "what about the day you came in late for the exam? why'd you smell like gas and ash, hanni has a tesla and that doesn't take gas. and what happened to you that day you were there in the alley? i saw you in the factory too." minji sighed and admitted, "i saved a man from a burning car on the side of the highway. they stabbed me in the factory which is why i screamed, and i had a feeling something was going wrong in the alley after i escaped the factory. but that’s all of my secrets i promise. no more secrets, okay?” 

brushed a stuck hair from minji’s forehead and nodded, “no more secrets, huh?” she hummed in agreement and you told her quietly, “i have one.” minji’s eyes found yours and you cupped her face with your hand, “i really like you, more than a friend.” minji broke out into a smile and responded, “i really like you too.” you asked almost as if you didn’t believe her, “yeah?” she nodded eagerly, “yeah.” minji leaned foreward and pressed her head against yours, you placed a gentle kiss on her forehead then you pulled away and looked at her, both of you sharing a similar glance, “don’t tell haewon.” the two of you bursted into laughter and minji leaned forward pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. 

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚

end.

[kedsandtubesocks]

all the trouble we’ve seen

Max Phillips x Witch!Reader

written for the PPCU x MCR WRITING CHALLENGE | prompt song: You Know What They Do to Guys Like Us in Prison

summary: Max is in trouble, real deep shit after what he did at the office. So what’s gonna happen when you’re stuck baby sitting the most annoying (and handsome) vampire you’ve ever met?

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI. Canon divergent AU (Max doesn’t die) enemies to lovers, forced proximity, magical realism, supernatural themes, Bi!Max, imprisonment, blood imagery, death mention & discussion, asshole but kinda sweet!Max, angst angst angst, scent kink, vampire moments with blood drinking, dry humping, smutty themes & heavy smutty implied, use of pet names

word count: 4.1k

a/n: thank you to @sp00kymulderr for hosting this challenge I’m so happy I could participate & I’m incredibly sorry this is getting posted later than expected!! This fic try wouldn’t be here without @perotovar @hauntedhowlett & @pedgito who let me cry/scream & gave me the guidance I need, i love each of you & I owe y’all my life lol and to you, if you decide to read this - know I’m thanking you a million times

The last time you saw Max Phillips was over five years ago, and you had threatened to hex his ass to hell.

You just never thought you’d see him again, especially in the mess he’s in. Though, the horrifying scene before you is almost fitting for Max.

The restaurant had been a mess when you arrived. You almost felt embarrassed. Bullets scattered all across the floor. Blood splattered against the floor. The gunfire had erupted when the cops tried to take Max in only for them to realize their bullets weren’t working.

Now Max sits among the shells with his arms raised up high in surrender. The chaos settles in debris all around. He smirks horrendously coyly when he sees you.

“Thought I smelled you, little witch.” He grins and the glimmer of his fangs shine out.

You simply say nothing, frowning hard and unamused.

Charged with high crimes after changing an entire business into vampires, the warrant had been put out on Max weeks ago. It wasn’t just the supernatural community looking for him, but actual law enforcement. This sleazy vampire just got sloppy at hiding.

Yet Max doesn’t even seem bothered one bit when your kind placed him in the magical chain spell. You always admired him for seemingly cool under pressure unbothered ease.

Until now in the council’s courtroom as the sentence is given and you see a new side of Max.

“Death.” The high magistrate declares cold and unflinching.

You almost choke on an inhale.

Max’s face falls, the first move vivid and true reaction he’s shown this entire time.

Max’s eyes immediately snap to you, and you see it - a flash of crystalized fear.

You don’t even know how to react.

Two guards come and drag him away from the council room.

“Wait! Wait! You can’t fucking do this to me!? Do you even know what they’re gonna do to a guy like me in prison?!” He screams.

It’s all he says before the doors close and he’s gone.

They would send him to die.

The council deemed him too dangerous. Carelessly exposing the supernatural and being so blatantly cocky about it upset them. You just never thought they would be this harsh.

Your body feels numb. You don’t even move out of your seat. A solid hand against your shoulder startles you out of your daze.

The high magistrate stands besides you grinning softly, almost expectant.

“You must be glad he’s finally in custody.” She says.

You couldn’t fully say you were.

“Didn’t expect that verdict.” You truthfully tell her.

She sighs, weary. “The cases made against him were too much, and this last instance of turning so many innocents into vampires is unacceptable.”

You understood that. But death?

“Besides, you out of all of us know how much of a bastard he is.” The magistrate says, and a bitterness bubbles in your mouth.

Now wearily nod.

“Look, I know it’s a lot to take in, but the law is the law and he needs to be punished.”

She squeezes your shoulder before drawing you into a solid hug.

“Call me when you get home.”

“Yeah mom, will do.” You sigh, hugging her back.

But you don’t get much sleep that night.

The walk to the dungeon the next day isn’t too far. The sleek business-like building simply melts away once you get past the attendant. Immediately you’re transported into the hollow prison. The cold stone, the stale air, the rumble of ancient dangerous magic, all form an eerie atmosphere.

The ruins on the wall illuminate a path that guides you.

The dungeon, an ever changing landscape, is specifically a holding space before the criminals are arranged for their sentences.

Max’s arm stretches out from the bars before you even see him.

“Was wondering what took you so long to come see me.”

You almost want to turn around and leave. You don’t even know why you came.

But you walk to the front of the jail cell. Even among the bars, Max is so damn handsome it makes you angry.

“So, you come to laugh at me?” He asks, rubbing at his jaw.

You stay silent.

“Can’t even say I look sexy in this jumpsuit. Putrid green and white stripes aren’t my colors.” He scoffs.

You still can’t say anything.

This vampire now begins pacing around his small cell.

His eyes flicker to you sharp.

“Did they tell you about my cellmate? He’s out for lunch right now. But he actually used magic to kill his ex’s wife’s lover. That’s who your fucked up system thinks I’m as bad ass. I didn’t even murder people! I brought them back to life better than before!”

You swallow hard, unable to find your voice still.

It pisses Max off that he rushes to the bars and slams his hands against them. The magic of the barrier against the metal sparks to life, refusing to let him leave.

“Say something, witch!” He snarls your name, and it jolts your heart.

You don’t say anything. You can’t even say why you came. So you turn on your heels and leave.

Max’s laugh, bitter and loud, bounces off the walls and haunts you the entire way home.

He would have a month in a prison hold before the actual sentence came. In that month he would be under the watch of another magic user…

And of course he picks you.

Your mother tried to change the arrangement, but the criminal had the right of choice.

Now you stand in the bleak apartment as Max glances around the place scrutinizing it.

“Couldn’t they have at least set us up in like a Hilton or something? This looks like some shit ass studio college dorm looking place.”

“The little prodigy witch couldn’t even get special treatment, huh?” He sneers at you.

You glare back.

“Why did you even pick me? To what? Just torture me too?” You finally snap.

“Oh of course.” He bows, annoyingly ridiculous and smirking bright. “If I’m going out, I’m taking you with me.”

You storm out of the living room and slam the bathroom to sulk alone.

The small studio apartment was highly protected, a jail cell in its own right. Protective barriers would keep anyone leaving or coming in.

Then the final piece arrives for your month-long confinement.

One of the secondary magistrates comes to place a sigil on Max’s neck. The skin sears with the magic pressing into him, and he even hisses.

“What the fuck, I forgot how awful it is being human.” He mutters almost slurred.

His powers would be completely suppressed now due to the spell. Max is practically human now.

Now it’s just you and him, for one damn month.

“I’m surprised they didn’t leave a coffin here.” You dryly comment.

“Oo, kinky. I knew you had it in you, witch.” Max smiles.

“We should at least fuck, that’s all we might be able to do here. Plus it’d be for old times sake.” Max immediately offers, and you make a disgusted face.

“You haven’t even slept with me!” He argues absolutely upset. “If you do, I’ll make you see why you should’ve back then.”

He smirks, winking at you.

Back then - Romania.

It had been your first big aboard mission, and it was where you first met Max. Still so cocky and smug, you hate how effortlessly he charmed you at that college bar. He constantly purred at how he hadn't seen a witch as cute as you, except how unfortunate it was that witches' blood like yours smelled so bad he couldn’t stay near you long. Then you spotted Max fucking a waitress behind a bar and didn’t want anything to do with him.

Still don’t. So you simply decide to ignore him.

Most days you stay focused on your laptop letting Max talk aimlessly like an annoying podcast host with no listeners.

“You know what’s really evil? Why hasn’t Philadelphia Cream Cheese brought those good strawberry cheesecake snacks from the 90’s? Like, why are they withholding the goods?” He says lounging on the couch.

Ignore.

“Oh you think ignoring me is gonna break me? You’re cute, sweetheart.” Max scoffs.

Ignore.

He even starts a full lecture about the importance to the seductive nature of sales, and you put your headphones in.

Eventually when you start preparing dinner, and he’s slumped on the couch, this annoying vampire blurts out -

“I miss my mom.”

You almost think you misheard him.

“Guess getting closer to death makes you think of things like that. She would’ve liked you.” He continues. “She always said I needed someone good to keep me in check.”

He never once mentioned his mom.

“Always thought you were the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen.” Max adds soft. “So damn smart and strong.”

Before grabbing the pasta you need to boil, his words freeze you.

“Should’ve run away with you. Wanted to.” He comments wistfully.

“No you didn’t.” You finally speak, and your voice creaks like a haunted house.

Max sits up immediately staring at you.

“I’m being serious.” His voice is unwavering just like his hard earthen eyes.

“Always wanted you. Always think I will.”

“You’re spewing bullshit now.” You flat out tell him. “I saw you that night with that waitress.”

Max sits up more. A hyper awareness rises in you, and you notice how thin the air feels now as the vampire moves to you in the kitchen.

“Besides, you always made it really fucking clear you couldn’t stand to be around me.” You add with a bitter bite.

“Little witches like you always smell so damn bad” - it’s like what he always said. You even repeat his words back to him.

Max stays surprisingly silent now, transformed into the deadly predator he is. Before you realize it you’re pressed against the kitchen wall at a dizzying speed. This handsome vampire stares down at you so close.

You aren’t afraid of what he can do. You know the spell is doing its job at suppressing him. But what is more dangerous is how badly your heart races.

His fingers run up against your chest delicately then to your neck where they stop.

“Only said all that because you drove me so damn crazy.” He mutters lower and hesitant than you’ve ever heard.

“Knew if I let myself even have one taste of you I’d never recover. I’d follow you forever.” He adds.

You swallow hard, barely able to breathe. Then you make the mistake of looking into his eyes.

You know his powers are suppressed. The magic radiating off him smells like a dusty room. Yet his eyes lock you in, almost hypnotizing you as if he was in his full form.

You can’t tell who moves first. You or him. It’s simply a collision of lips messily pressing against each other with Max instantly molds his body into yours.

He drags you to the couch in the living room. The boiling water sits on the stove overflowing. You can’t even seem to care. Not when he eats you out with a possessed consumption, a type of devouring that makes your eyes roll back into another dimension.

You’re surprised at how generous a lover he is, and how well endowed he is. It’s all delicious and good. You hate how much his kisses and heat melt into your bones.

You even hate how easily you fall asleep in his arms.

The next morning you’re still tangled in his hold.

“Haven’t slept like that in decades,” Max yawns groggily when he wakes up. “But that’s what a good fuck and pretty company to sleep with does to a man.”

You snort smacking his bare chest.

The mood shifts after that.

You and him watch shitty day time television together and really get into The Price is Right. You spend hours talking to him about everything and anything.

He also fucks you until your brain melts out of your skull and maybe even after that.

The days melt together and what’s worse, it feels natural falling into place beside Max.

“If we didn’t have all this…” he waves his hand around the room while you and him lie in bed together still not wanting to get up.

“I think we would’ve been good together.” Max muses.

You snort. “We would’ve killed each other.”

Max doesn’t say anything, instead lets his fingers just dance along your bare skin.

You’re about to ask him if he’s alright when he begins to cough. The cough started up last week. Now it sounds hoarse, getting worse over these past few days.

The binding spell is doing its job, keeping him suppressed, but it’s essentially draining him to the brink of no return.

That reality is now manifesting before you and terrifies you. So you’ve tried to sooth him, make him tea or even rub his back.

It’s a ominous awareness that seeps into the cracks of this facade you’ve been in.

“We should run away.” Max says suddenly the next morning after he fucked you senseless in the shower.

“What?!” You shriek.

“You heard me, witch.” He grins toothy. “We should run away, you and me.”

He nudges his chin at you, and your stomach flips.

Now you’re the one staying quiet as your mind scrambles like a frantic rat running from the light.

“Hello?!” He cries out your name, and his voice snaps your spine straight.

“So are you really just gonna let them kill me?!” The vampire snarls.

“You broke the law, like extremely. This is the punishment.” You fire back with a snap.

“You know what’s the real damn punishment? Being here with you. Knowing none of this will matter and...” he cuts himself off fast and glares hard.

You can taste what he’s going to say.

This make believe dream of living with him, of maybe having a life together is just a dream.

A contorted nightmare of what is to come.

You and Max avoid each other the rest of the day.

Until another coughing fit comes, and he collapses in the kitchen. It’s scary watching this suave powerful hunter wither away into almost a husk of who he is. You immediately rush over to help steady him.

Calling out his name, he’s barely in and out of consciousness.

You’re panicking. You know this is what would happen. He only has a week left before his execution.

But you can’t stand this. You don’t want to see him suffer. Not when you’ve felt the Max beneath his grimey jackass surface crust, felt his tender kisses, seen the bashful smiles he gives you, known the way he makes you feel-

So you lower your neck down to him.

“Max, do it.” You order.

“But what about…” he mutters through a wheeze.

“Don’t care. We’ll figure it out.” You firmly cut him off.

Max’s hands shake as he draws himself to you. He even places the softest butterfly of kisses against your skin.

Then he bites down.

His fangs aren’t sharpened so the piercing of his teeth into your skin makes you hiss, feels so much more animalistic than you would have thought.

Then the pleasure immediately washes over.

A honey syrupy warmth courses into your veins, and you moan feeling him suck at you, feeling his tongue lip out to your skin.

You don’t even realize Max has shifted, gained more strength, until your back hits the cold kitchen floor and your hands clutch onto him.

He slides his body between your legs and immediately grinds up against your core.

“Oh fuck, knew it. I knew you’d taste amazing.” He slurs watery as your blood fills his mouth.

You moan more clutching at him as your hips rise to grind against his more. It feels like you could burst out of your skin at any moment with this all consuming pleasure.

Max dry humps you more and you don’t care that you’re picking up a more frantic pace trying to reach your edge.

“Shit yeah, give it to me.” He commands, and your climax hits you dizzying that your vision goes out for a minute.

But you’re not the only one, Max groans loud, a punched out moan signaling his release.

“No one’s made me fucking come in my pants since I was a little bat. You naughty little thing.” He mumbles with a grin against your skin, kissing and licking away at the wound he gave you.

When Max lifts up from your neck, you swear his eyes flicker a shade of crimson.

Eventually he gathers you into his arms. A warmth has returned to his cheeks. You hate that this dumb vampire hasn’t wiped off your blood from his face and instead seems to wear it proud.

“Your blood is my honor badge, witch.” Max winks, and you roll your eyes.

Now the silence returns.

“I’ve wanted to ask…Why did you do it? Change all those people in the office?”

In his arms, you feel Max shrug.

“Why not? Humans are weak, easily broken. Why not give ‘em a shot to be better? If not, they're just food, like a walking grocery store for my kind.”

A dread sickness sinks into you hearing him talk this unbothered and slightly cruel.

“You were human. You couldn’t have always thought like that.” You say firm even as you your fingers trace against his.

Max sighs.

“Yeah that’s true. But love and life’s a bitch ain’t it.”

Curiously, you can’t help but ask what happened.

Max stays quiet. You’re worried this soft bonding bubble has popped.

“I fell in love right before I turned.” His voice takes that uncharacteristically soft somber tone.

Max tells you about the man he met and how the two of them vowed to be together. But then Max was changed, and his partner saw him as a monster. Then all the faith and love shattered right before Max’s eyes.

So, this existence has been a prison of its own for him.

“Then I met you, someone else stuck like me between the mundane and magical.” Max says and your heart jumps.

“You had laughed so damn loud at something the other witch with you at the bar said and it annoyed me. Didn’t think someone could be that happy.”

You’re about to snap at him until he continues.

“I wanted to annoy you as much as I could until I knew you inside and out.”

It’s a Max way of saying he wanted to be with you.

Something heavy and rusting settles in your chest and drags you down to a depth you don’t want to face.

“You still don’t know me.” You mutter.

“I know enough, know you aren’t the type that wants to be an apprentice magistrate, much less a high one. That sounds like what that mother of yours wanted.” Max comments, always seeming to just have the best ability at reading people and it makes you fidget in his arms.

And he’s right.

You never wanted to be a magistrate.

You have dreams of a beautiful occult shop, warm and inviting, getting to run it yourself with all the knowledge of magic you know. Binding and blending the supernatural with the everyday world - that’s what you dreamed of.

You even tell him this.

Max surprisingly listens to it all patiently.

“We could make it happen.” He suggests. “After all, I’m a damn wizard in business.”

That makes you laugh and he joins in.

But it’s a candy coated dream holding a truthful rot beneath all.

“There’s this saying I heard once,” Max says suddenly. “Life’s but a dream for the dead.”

“That’s…morbid.” You reply.

“But true.” Max shrugs simply. “Trust me, I’ve been dead long enough to know. Guess that dream might be ending soon.”

It’s that unspoken festering truth.

The end is approaching.

It now feels as if the prison chains around Max have possibly been around you as well.

What will you do?

Before you head to bed you notice the light from the streetlights casts a shadow from a window that crawls across the floor - it looks like jail bars.

That night you let Max drink from you again and go to absolute heaven. Because if this is your hell then why not taste the sublime even if for a little bit.

You feel more drained than normal, barely staying awake. Max softly reassures you it’s because he’s fed off you twice.

“Just get some rest honey, I’ll be here.” He kisses your shoulder and spoons you in his hold.

Wearily you slip into dreams of a hotel room down the street, where you and Max would escape to. You’d change your name and he’d change his. Max of course manages to negotiate a buy and you get your shop filling it to the brim with tarot cards and blessed candles. It’s your own little slice of heaven, and Max complains about it all the time. But you’re happy, and he stays right beside you.

And then you wake up.

Your mother, the high magistrate, actually is the one shaking you awake.

“What happened?!” She cries petrified and panicked.

Wearily you glance around and find more magic users and guards storm in and out of the apartment.

Max is gone.

Claw marks scratch against the door and the wood is broken open. He found a way out. Absolute horror crashes into you.

“Did you let him drink from you?! Answer me!” Your mom demands screaming your name.

You’re too terrified to answer. The silence is enough and your mom explodes.

“How did you forget?! A vampire drinking a witch's blood allows them to momentarily gain abilities to break seals and spells?!” She screams.

You had been so deep in this delusion… you hadn’t even thought of that.

Your blood runs cold.

That bastard had charmed you with all the suave of a slug. And here you are, left the buyer hoodwinked by the rotten lie he sold you.

All that’s left from Max is a single piece of paper written for you.

Life is but a dream baby…

Crunching the note in your hands, you set the paper on fire.

-

Your prison cell is more comfortable than others and you know that. Being the daughter of a high magistrate is like being the child of a president. You understand the privileged benefits that it brings.

But a cage is still a cage.

You’d be in this single waiting room cell of the dungeon for another day until it was decided where you would go for your crimes of assisting a fugitive.

Your mother is still trying to argue that you were under the influence of Max. In some way you were, but just not in the way she speaks of.

Just thinking about that monster makes your blood boil.

Down the hall of the dungeon, a faint clang echos like something hit the floor. Your guard curiously peeks down the dark shifting labyrinth

The guard’s eyes flicker to you for a brief moment, then he walks off to investigate the noise.

You don’t give it much thought and return to reading your book.

The new footsteps come clocking down the hall. They don’t sound like the familiar boots of the guards and you wonder if it’s someone from the magistrate’s court.

“You miss me baby?”

The air goes still.

Your reaction to hearing Max’s smooth acidic voice is visceral.

You throw your book at him.

“You fucker!” The emotions take over, volcanic and consuming.

He’s dressed in the nicest suit you’ve ever seen and covers his head from your book attack. But you also don’t miss the blood soaking his shirt, still lingering around his lips.

“Hey, hey, hey! Is that anyway you should treat your rescuer?” His face scrunched up in confusion is still as handsome as ever.

“You’re the reason why I’m here to begin with!” You snap.

He hushes you.

“You want us to get caught?!” Max seethes.

Before you can yell at him more, your vampire walks forward and kicks open the gate. The magic shimmers, a fluttering electric wave, then crumbles as the lock opens.

Max stubbornly walks over to snap off the binding spell on your wrists even though it faintly burns his hands as you notice the harsh sizzling sound.

He really is setting you free.

You’re almost too stunned to move now staring at him confused.

Max sighs annoyingly dramatic. “Baby, are you coming or what?”

He holds his hand out, eyes expectant, but there’s a glimmer of hesitation.

You don’t grab his hand, but instead rush forward to kiss him frenzied, not even caring there’s still traces of blood against his chin. It becomes a distorted but consecrated blood vow sealing. You’re thankful this dumb vampire is quick to react grabbing onto you with a fierce hold.

The guards would be coming soon. Max’s intrusion and your escape will be noticed if you don’t act fast.

But for right now, it’s just you and him.

And you think, it might be you and this vampire until the sun bleeds.

And as you place your hand in Max’s - you realize you’re more than okay with that.

[camellia-salazar]

April's drawings and doodles!! Get ready! 🎉🌟

At first, I was gonna draw ARG tangled in some rope, but then the rope looked like a ribbon, so I made Gangle into a monster instead. Also, I drew two of the most underated cats from Warriors ever, especially Lionheart.

(I started this first but finished it second). Drawings of certain characters cause their birthdays this month, except for Colin his birthday is at the end of March. I just forgot to draw him. I just love how Cody, Popee, and Waluigi share the same birthday, tho. 🎉

Edit: (No offense to those born on April 1st, btw).

I was writing a story with these six, inspired by The New Prophecy. But I haven't written it in some time. Idk if I'll ever continue it. I don't think I'll post it anywhere, either. Probably.

The next two drawings I started a month or so ago but didn't finish until this month.

Took quite a while to finish, but I'm glad I did. Idk where this takes place yet, but it is a scene from that crossover I keep thinking about but never really writing down.

Either takes place before or after the drawing above it, I don't really remember. What I do know, tho is that I drew these drawings because idk I just felt like Adam would have interesting interactions with some other characters.

I rushed this at the end. I did not want to leave it out. I want a clean slate next month. God damn it. I love crossovers, how bout you?

More about the Multifandom lore and other stuff below if you want:

Characters who die in canon that end up in the place (idk what to call it) keep being in the clothing that they died in. (Rip Ram and Kurt from Heathers: the Musical). (Spoilers warning if needed) So Adam is stuck with his robe he wore during the war with Charlie and the others from the hotel.

Also, about the 3rd drawing, like I said, it's an idea I had that, yes, takes place in the same crossover thing I think about. The colors in the background of each kiddo are involved in it, too.

The first two drawings are pretty much just some random doodles (idk what to do with the one with ARG and monster Gangle) while the other three kinda have stories to them that may or may not be written or animated on someday. (God, I hope that last sentence made sense).

Oh, and Bluey, Bingo and their cousins got to visit the Cul-De-Sac cause of a reason that's also in the multifandom/crossover I think about, I don't know if I should explain it or not. Meh.

BTW I've tried to match the original art styles of everything before, but this time, I've taken some steps forward. The hardest thing to figure out is the claynimated ones like Orel, Clay, and Claire. But I managed (for now, probably).

Edit: i went back and fixed it, I feel so much better about it now.

I even tried to have it seem like Bluey and others are slowly transitioning to the EEnE art style a bit.

But anyways, thanks for looking at my art and reading my rant! (If you did, if not, don't worry)

Have a good one! 🌟✨️✨️👋

(i keep forgetting to include my logo in my fanarts, but whatever, maybe next time, maybe next year ill start. Idk.)

[misc-obeyme]

Heyy! Congrats on 500 followers!!🎉

I'd like to request prompt #19. Whisper with Lucifer if it's still free💙

Please and thank youu

Hello!

I really should write for Lucifer more, as I enjoyed writing this! I like how he's normally so strict, but he gets soft with MC. Anyway, I hope you like it!

Thank you for participating!

GN!MC x Lucifer with prompt Whisper

Warnings: none!

It was a quiet night in the House of Lamentation. An unusual occurrence considering all of the brothers were in attendance. You sat among them in the common room where they were all blissfully occupied with their various activities. You were grateful that they were so relaxed for once. It was nice to have an evening of calm.

You weren't doing much of anything yourself, just scrolling through Devilgram, reading the latest posts. Someone sat down in the empty space beside you on the sofa, but you didn't look up to see who it was.

And then you found you didn't need to as he leaned into you and Lucifer's voice whispered in your ear, "I wish to spend some time with you. I am heading to the music room. Follow me later, so as not to attract my brothers' attention. I'll be waiting."

The way he said the last sentence gave you goosebumps. You tried not to react as Lucifer stood up again and left the room.

It was all you could do not to follow him immediately. But he was right, if you two left together, the others would certainly notice. And likely they'd have a lot to say about it.

So you waited, continuing to scroll through Devilgram, though you weren't actually looking at it anymore. Your attention was on the brothers, watching them in your peripheral vision.

After a little time had passed, you decided they were all distracted enough for you to slip out of the room without being noticed.

As soon as you were in the hall, you made your way directly to the music room. This was the place Lucifer asked you to come to when he wanted to play you some cursed record he had obtained. If it was something humans couldn't listen to, he would somehow create a copy that had no magic attached to it, allowing you to enjoy it with him. You didn't know how he did that and you didn't ask.

The door to the music room was ajar, but you knocked anyway as you stuck your head in.

"Come in, MC," Lucifer said.

You came into the room and saw that Lucifer already had a record in his hands. He put the record on the player, starting it up and placing the needle, filling the room with a beautiful song. It was soft and sweet, full of gentle instrumentals.

Lucifer turned to you and smiled, coming over to where you stood. His hands were spread open, an offer for you to step into his arms.

You didn't hesitate, moving into his embrace right away. He took one of your hands, letting the other settle on your waist, and began to move you slowly through the room.

Your heart swelled as you danced with Lucifer. He was a master at leading you through the steps, guiding you one way and the other. Twirling you slowly just to pull you back into his chest.

He held you there, letting his hands rest upon the small of your back. He leaned close, his lips by your ear.

"I wanted nothing more than to share this moment with you," he said quietly, just barely a whisper. "If there is anything you want from me, say it."

A thrill ran through you at these words. Was he really going to make you say it? It wasn't like he didn't know what you wanted already.

You looked at him and the slight smirk on his face told you that you were indeed going to have to say it.

But you wouldn't ask. If he wanted to hear it, you would issue a command.

"Kiss me," you said.

Lucifer did as you asked immediately. His touch was gentle, but his lips were almost desperate. The needy way he kissed you caused you to open your mouth for him, which only made him want more.

Eventually he pulled away just to press you into his body, his head resting on your shoulder.

"I love you," he whispered.

You shivered and whispered it back, lifting his head slightly so you could kiss him again.

The music swelled in the room, your heart full of the whispered confessions that had passed between you.

the original prompt list

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[natuhcake]

This is an excerpt from my Diapered Errands Novel that I’m writing. Currently 45 pages in. Let me know if you Sissies want me to post more of this on here. I normally post it on Deviant Art

Chapter Four: Fun on the Swings

“Wakey Wakey little one! We’ve made it to the park! Aren’t you excited!”

I looked outside and saw a park with a jungle gym and some swings. It was enclosed in a gate and had a large sign on it. Only ones under age 9 are allowed to play here.

Tiffany looked at the sign and opened the gate latch and walked me into the park. She then closed the gate and latched it shut.

“Here let’s get you on the swing” Tiffany exclaimed.

Tiffany brought me over to the swing set and I quickly hopped onto the swing.

“Silly girl! You act way too young to be on the big kids swings. Let’s get you on those” Tiffany pointed to the baby swings with baby seats on them. They looked too small for me but Tiffany insisted.

“I don’t think I’m going to fit…” before I could finish my sentence she picked me up and placed my two dangling feet into the baby swing. I could tell instantly that I was too big and that’s when she let go of me and with my body weight I fell into the baby seat. Both of my legs went through the leg holes and my diapered bottom squeezed inside.

“See! You fit! Let’s get you in the air”

I could tell that I was stuck in the chair, it was very tight but Tiffany didn’t care. She began swinging me up and down and cooing at me.

“Look at how high you’re going, girly! Why don’t you say “weee” for Mommy”

To not make matters worse I listened to Tiffany and began saying “weee” as she pushed me on the swing.

“Wee, weeee, weeee!!” I yelled! Forgetting where I was

I began to worry, what if someone saw me like this, riding on the baby swing in a Pink Satin Romper, buttoned up the back to the top. Pink Satin Bonnet tied around my next and matching pink Satin Booties and Mittens button on. In addition to my pink pacifier attached to my Romper. I tried to see if I could pull myself out of the seat but I couldn’t. My silky mittens weren’t giving me any grip to pull myself up. I’d pull and pull but they just weren’t gripping enough.

Tiffany stopped pushing after a while and was about to take some pictures.

“Oh shoot! I left my phone in the car, I’ll be right back honey, don’t go anywhere!” She said. Before I could attest she placed my pacifier in my mouth. I began suckling the pacifier while I waited for Tiffany to return. After a few minutes I began to worry and turned around in my seat to see if I could see her in the car. The car was not there, it was not in the spot that she parked in and I couldn’t see her MiniVan anywhere. Luckily the park was empty but I needed to get out of the seat. I quickly began to start pulling myself out of the seat but it was really really tough. I was making some progress and then my grip slipped and I fell deeper into the baby swing seat. I began sweating nervously and I ended up filling my diapers with my lunch along with some warm pee. I continued to clutch to the swing. Just when all hope is lost, I see a car pull back into the parking lot. I couldn’t tell what kind of car it was as the sun was setting and was blocking my view but they pulled into the same place Tiffany did. All of sudden the car door opens and an older man comes out. He has a green jumpsuit on and looks to be the groundskeeper for the park. He has brownish long hair and seems to be coming my way.

More Cumming soon!

[konako]

did you ever see any red snowing fics??

i’m back on my ouat bullshit after about 5 years and i remember a tumblr blog along the lines of traumatising emma

i’ve read most of your fics and thegirl20’s fics again and i just need ruby lucas content

You need Ruby Lucas content, you say?

YOU CAME TO THE RIGHT PLACE. LET ME SHOW YOU AROUND.

@traumatizing-emma Is the blog to go to, for Red Snowing content, as far as I know! Here are a few of my faves.

You might also find something in my Red Snowing tag. Not much, I'm afraid, I haven't explored this trio as a romantic possibility (a... poly-bility. hah!) in a while!

You can always try my Partner In Crime's blog: @lovecanbesostrange.

Kat is every bit as unhinged and as obsessed with Ruby Lucas as I am — make no mistake! —, the only difference is she has the decency to keep her spiraling off main. Plus her blog has considerably more variety, while I'm a one-track-mind gal. She's also the MAIN CULPRIT behind some of the MOST devastating Red Snow feelings one can have.

Check her Red Snow tag(s) for the complete experience. But for the more polished (published) pieces, let me interest you in her AO3 work:

Four times Snow is on top and one time she isn't

I held it in but now it seems you've set it running free

Keep you safe and warm

But if it's Red Snow pain that you're after, then Safe Cage is your destination. Look no further. This story might break your heart. (Red Queen is the romantic ship, btw!) I have had several meltdowns about Safe Cage. On main. Look the other way.

If Ruby Lucas Meta is more your speed, check out my maniacal rants tag. But also look out for Kat's tags under any Ruby post!! Some of the best commentary in the business!! The brain in that skull should be studied, but wait until I give back the single cell I borrowed.

Short Fics Inspired by a tumblr post? Or fics to dive into for longer? @foxofthedesert is your person! Their writing has a fantastic, rich flavour I can't get enough of. Seriously, this author has put together sentences that have made me gasp. You want to read something you can taste, smell, hear and picture? Read their work. We're blessed to have them!

Also, back when I was being unjustly blamed for getting people to watch OUAT again, I listed a few of the people in the fandom that were also responsible for the collective relapse. You can check them out. I'm sure they remain a gateway drug into the OUAT world, even in 2024.

I do have more recs for you, depending on your specific needs! But since you mentioned Red Snowing first, I tried to stay in that general area. Feel free to reach out again, if you need something else. I'm always here to help. I can't leave. I'm stuck.

[ocean--grey]

Here's my attempt at Smegtober 2024's Day 3 prompt, "Parents" :)

Word count: ~1300 words

Warnings: brief mention of Lister and Rimmer's canonically terrible childhoods, Lister leaving the twins behind in the Parallel Universe

Edit: now on AO3 :)

Ten months after one of the strangest mistakes of her life, Deb Lister was convinced she’d never get used to the responsibility of looking after her sons.

It was just under a month after Dave had dropped off the twins – Jim and Bexley – and she hadn’t got a full night’s sleep with all the time she spent fretting over them. They’d arrived almost fully grown, physically eighteen, but had seemingly reverted in every way over the past few weeks into children, an apparent compromise between their recent birth and accelerated ageing due to being born in another universe.

In all fairness, she felt like Dave got the short end of the stick, forced to give away his kids just three days after giving birth to them, never able to see them naturally progress into adulthood. She’d seen the regret in his eyes as he handed them over – it wasn’t as though he had a say in the matter though. The universe had decided his kids wouldn’t survive with him, so it wasn’t like he’d chosen to abandon them. If they’d been conceived in Dave’s universe, he’d have been able to raise them, but then Deb would have been the one to let them go.

Just unfortunate luck, really.

The kind of unfortunate luck that also left Deb herself in an awkward situation: trying to teach the kids. She’d be the first to admit academics weren’t her thing – in the few occasional weeks she’d properly tried to go to school regularly, maths and art were the only subjects she did decently in.

She’d ask Kryten, the newest member of the group, for help, but Deb was still busy replacing her wiring after that crash on the asteroid, and could confidently say that the mechanoid would be out of commission for a while longer.

Dog wouldn’t be great with teaching the kids phonics and the like - he communicated mainly through smells rather than words, and thought human books were for decorating the floor of the bunkroom like confetti.

Hilly was no help either. Still hung up on the doppelgänger crew’s computer, he’d changed appearances to mirror the object of his affection and skulked off to the furthest corners of Red Dwarf’s electrical system to read Anthony Christie novels in peace, occasionally turning up to snark and bemoan about his lost love.

This process of elimination left Rimmer. God, Deb didn’t even want to think about what her roommate would consider a good quality education. Probably teach the twins twice-daily mandatory Ionian etiquette lessons, threaten to toss them out an airlock if they didn’t pronounce stuff with that nasally stuck-up accent of hers, stuff like that. Actually, Lister bet the smeghead would probably turn her nose up at stooping so low from her post as to actually help her roommate out with Jim and Bexley.

Which was why, all things considered, when Arlene actually offered to teach the kids the month after they arrived, and was a damn great teacher at that, Lister was gobsmacked.

Somehow, the smeghead managed to command the attention of the twins enough to get them writing full sentences within a few weeks. She’d screech in horror, of course, whenever they got something even slightly wrong (which Lister had been worried about at first) but somehow it seemed a comical kind of screech rather than her usual demeaning one. Mock horror, almost.

Whatever it was that made Rimmer such an great teacher for the boys, it made the lessons entertaining enough that soon Jim kept coming up to Rimmer to show her short stories he’d shakily written, or Bexley would grab her attention with an “Auntie Arlene, look at this new word I can spell!”

Oh yeah, and the “Auntie Arlene” remarks kept coming. It seemed the boys considered their temporary teacher almost as much of a parental figure as Deb herself.

Which, of course, Lister was completely fine with, totally. Didn’t feel threatened at all, actually.

So when Jim asked her one night, when she tucked the twins into bed, “Mum, do you and Auntie Arlene not like each other?”, she swallowed down an immediate scathing retort and instead muttered “We have our differences, but don’t fret about it, ‘kay?”

The next day she’d cornered Rimmer on the main deck.

“Why the smeg do the kids like you so much? What can you offer them that I can’t?”

Rimmer’s lips had curled at this. “Instilling a good sense of hygiene, perhaps? Or maybe a comprehensive understanding of the importance of structure and law-abiding?”

“Rimmer, the only laws you actually follow to a T are the ones you’ve implemented yourself! Besides, stuff like that doesn’t really matter when there’s only us on the ship.” She scrambled to speak again as Rimmer’s nostrils twitched. “Also, it’s not like you can offer them any comfort. Emotionally you’re a wasp’s nest on the best of days, and you’re not even physically here!”

Rimmer’s mouth gaped open like a suffocating fish, before pursing tight. “Thanks for reminding me of my death, you goit! My, you lack so much tact its value’s practically negative. Great example for your kids, aren’t you?”

With that, the hologram stormed off through a wall.

Lister found her a few hours later, after tucking the twins into bed. Rimmer had been slinking around the fuel decks, apparently sulking silently except for a few half-hearted attempts to kick at the pipes along the walls – unsuccessfully, of course. By the time Lister found her, she had slid down a wall, staring down at her lap.

Deb crouched beside her before slouching against the wall too, curling her body in to face Rimmer. Letting out a sigh, she began.

“Listen Rimmer, I went too far back there. Honestly, I feel like I’m not handling this well – any of it actually. I’m so scared I’ll be an awful parent to the twins –”

“You’re not, though.”

Deb’s rant careened off its tracks and exploded, leaving only debris behind.

“… Eh?”

“You’re not. An awful parent, I mean. You’re still learning and, considering the general lack of support around here, you’re doing pretty fine.”

“Thanks. I think?”

Rimmer’s eyes rolled. “That was actually a compliment, directed towards you, from me. Yes I know, it’s impossible!” A grin flickered across her face for a split second, before returning to a careful neutral expression as she resumed studying her lap. “Besides, you’re doing better than I ever could by myself.”

Deb hesitated, then replied “Honestly, I’m not doing it all by myself. You’ve actually been a lot of help. Look,” here she uncurled her body, and Rimmer’s eyes connected with hers, “you’re not half bad either, considering what you’ve told me about your mum. I think all things considered we’re both doing a decent job, eh?”

Rimmer nodded, seemingly only half listening as she kept locking eyes with Lister.

“Listen, I’m sorry I said that smeg earlier. I just… don’t want to feel like I’m failing the boys in any way, and seeing them so excited to talk with you about your lessons and stuff made me think you were…”

Rimmer cut in harshly, “What, trying to steal them away from you?”

“A bit like that, yeah. But not only that? I was expecting you to make parenting into a kind of competition between us, y’know, who can help the kids grow and develop better than the other, the kind of smeg you used to pull all the time.”

“Key phrase there being used to.”

“Well, still do it sometimes, don’t you?” Lister chuckled.

The conversation faded as they listened to the pipes hum for a minute. After a while, Rimmer replied.

“Well, I’m not planning on making this a competition. Not this time. Too much at stake, the kids and all that. Wouldn’t want to mess them up over petty rivalry.”

“Nah, we wouldn’t.”

“So… truce?”

Deb felt the weight on her shoulders loosen, even if only by a tiny bit. “Sure.”

She spat on her hand, and reached out to shake. Rimmer rolled her eyes again and gestured down at her hologrammatic body. Lister paused for a second, then announced to the room “Hilly, can you seal the deal for us?”

She strolled away, chuckling once more, to the sound of her roommate trying to stifle her own guffaws even as she tried to shake the spit off her hand.

[alexx013]

Hey there, can I make a request for genshin impact?

So, a friend of mine slowly started to neglecting our friendship because they have someone who they're very close with and developed feelings for them. That's why we rarely talk anymore and every time I try to reach them, they say something like "oh sorry, I don't have time, I'm meeting (random name) soon". So it's pretty painful to watch this gap between us growing more and more and sadly, I can do nothing about it.

So my request would be, can you write this scenario but with the sumeru boys (tighnari, cyno, alhaitham, kaveh) noticing reader's situation and trying to comfort them? Something like "don't worry, I'm here for you and never going to leave you". I really need some comfort because this makes me so sad..

If you have a character limit, could you at least write for cyno and/or tighnari please? ;_;

Reader can be gender neutral but personally I prefer f!reader.

I hope this is okay for you and thank you ;_;

A/N: Hii there and thank you for the request. I'm so sorry that happened to you, it must have felt terrible. If you, or anyone else reading this post wanted to talk to someone, you can add me to friends on Genshin (it ain't much, but still is sth) . There will be a second part to this story.

My UID: 720520373

---------------------------------------------------

TW: panic attack, bitchy friend

Slight spoilers in Alhaitham story!

Second person, f!reader

Characters: Alhaitam, Cyno

---------------------------------------------------

Prequel

It was a sunny afternoon on a Thursday. Y/n just finished her lectures for the day and happily walked towards the main building of Akademiya, glad that school was over. The sun shone through the window illuminating the stony floor. Being a student of Rtawahist definetely wasn't easy, and even if Y/n didn't have any homework assigned for tommorow, she would still have to work a bit on some projects. But that could be done later, now was time for her tradition - a girls' afternoon with her best friend, Aisha. Y/n waited for her to finish her lectures, because she was from Haravatat and it always took her longer to get to the main hall. It's true that Aisha was busy a week ago, and two, but this time it'd be different... right?

Not so long after a tall girl with almond shade skin and black hair styled in a simple updo walked into the main hall, looking around as if she was searching for someone. It was Aisha, Y/n walked over to her with a bright smile appearing on her face but the closer she got, the more she saw that her best friend's smile started disappearing

- Hii Aisha

- Hi, do you know where F/n is? They also go to Rtawahist, and we're having a girls' night

- But.. those on Thursdays were our tradition

- Oh, um yea... Maybe we could do that next week.. or sometime

Aisha quickly walked away, but Y/n just stood there in shock. In this very moment her last bits of hope disappeared. Her mind was a mess, tons of different emotions and words she wanted to say this moment overlapping in a chaotic way. Her eyes burning like they were on fire even though tears started appearing in their corners, and her lips quivering unable to let out a proper sentence. All Y/n wanted to do was run away from this place, so she did. She sprinted out of the main hall before anyone noticed. Or so she thought

Alhaitham 📖

Y/N sat on a cold tile, under the bridge in the small library leading to the House of Daena. She tried to muffle any sounds coming out of her, so no one notices her, by covering her mouth with her hand. Tears falling out of her eyes were falling to the ground, and making a *plask* sound when they hit the tiles, but no student seemed to notice. They were hurrying to get back home, or to go to the library.

Y/n wanted to scream out of anger, but her voice got stuck, not allowing her to even say anything. Her throat hurt, like it was on fire but it looked like there wasn't any good solution to solving that. Focused on trying to make her voice work again, she didn't hear footsteps behind her.

- Y/n, why on earth are you sitting on the floor here

She looked up and saw a certain gray haired tall male, who also was your boyfriend. Y/n tried to reply, but only some rough shrieks came out of your mouth. He sighed and said:

- Get up, we're going to my office

Y/n silently followed the new Acting Grand Sage. When both of you got there he told you to sit on his old chair, back from when he was a Scribe, and went off somewhere. Not so long after he reappeared, putting a mug with a liquid inside along with a bowl of fruit. Y/n must have looked confused because he said:

- Zatyun Peach tea, will help with sore throat and a bowl of fruit. Eat, I'll continue with my work but you can talk if you want

Y/n took a sip, and then words started spilling out of her. And he listened, to every single one. When she finished, he looked her in the eyes and did something he rarely does, as he isn't really fond of making affectionate gestures - he put his hand on her cheek and stroked it with his thumb saying:

- You're enough

Y/n couldn't help it, out of shock and his sudden words tears started to reappear in her eyes. Alhaitham, considering the best option after a while moved closer gently trapping you in a light embrace.

Few hours later, as the sun started to fall behind the horizon, Y/n was comfortably sitting on her boyfriend's lap, reading a book while he filled out the papers laying on his bed. The room was filled in silence, except for her slight humming (which normally would annoy tf out of Haitham but it's you, he'll suffer through), yet no one wanted to change it.

It was perfect the way it was, just the two of you.

Cyno ⚖️

Usually Y/n took her sweet time walking the way to her home, talking with the vendors and adoring the newly planted Paradisah. But today was not like any other day, she sprinted towards the only place she considered a safe space right now. Tears were building in her eyes, slightly blurring her vision, but Y/n didn't wanna have a public meltdown so she focused on running.

Then Y/n's heaven on earth appeared: a small house with white walls, green roof, wooden framings and entrance door. She quickly searched for the keys, and found them in her back pocket. She inserted them into the key lock, as the heart locket keychain swished in the air from sudden movement.

When Y/n entered the four walls, closing the door behind her, she slided to the floor gripping her head. The tears stopped, along with the sadness but something else appeared. Her lungs felt like they were wrapped in barbed wire so taking even a tiny breath hurt like hell, her hands were shaking and could not be trusted with even the tiniest tasks as helping Y/n get up from the floor. Even if it was a space she knew well, it suddenly felt big. She felt like a mosquito: small, annoying and not important. Y/n crawled over to a grey couch and took off a blanket thrown over it, which then she covered yourself with. Y/n took another shaky breath and closed your eyes.

- Y/n... Y/n, wake up!

She slowly opened her eyelids, but upon the sudden attack on her vision by the sun shining right in her face, she closed them again scrunching her face in uncomfortability. Then Y/n felt a warm hand covering her eyes. She asked the owner of the hand over her eyes - her boyfriend Cyno:

- Did I forget to lock the doors? How did you get in?

He left out a chuckle and she could hear his soft voice saying:

- You gave me the keys a month ago, I let myself into your house after I saw you running out of the Akademiya in panic

When he saw her lips starting to quiver again he added:

- Take deep breaths Y/n, slowly

He rubbed Y/n's back as she complied to his request: a deep breath in, hold for 3 seconds, and then out. And it helped, a bit but still something. When he saw her slightly calm down he moved onto the couch, beckoning for her to do the same. When Y/n joined him, comfortably leaning into him, he asked:

- Who? Do I want me to serve them justice?

She shook her head, then nuzzling it into his neck. Y/n could feel his body getting hotter out of embarrassment, cute that even after half a year he still got affected by such small displays of affection.

- Just hold me - she answered

He pulled Y/n closer, his arm wrapped around her waist, his head on hers. Then, with a bright smile on his face (which she sadly couldn't see, bc her face was still in the crook of his neck) he asked

- Do you wanna hear some jokes?

Y/n simply hummed in approval, and she heard his breathing as gears in his brain worked trying to come up with some good ones

- Singing in the shower is fun until you get soap in your mouth... Then it's a soap opera

Y/n lightly chuckled as he told her more and more of his jokes. Some were funny, some were not, but it's the thought that counts.

Soon the sun was down, and you still were sitting entangled one into another.

Simply his presence was enough.

[good--merits-accumulated]

mini-oneshot; post Neil's death. the usual content warnings apply - depression + some pretty severely bad mental health + alcohol + injury + quite a bit of swearing.

For a long time afterwards he lay and did nothing. He lay until his bones fused with the sheets and Meeks started to look pale and then they came in and threatened him with suspension so he got up and went to class. But in his mind he was lying still, all the time. The others let him alone half out of pity and half out of fright, like a dog that should have been put down when it was a runt. He tried to care but could not care about caring. The new teacher set them an essay on iambic pentameter and instead of writing it he reproduced one of Rimbaud’s poems, the one that began Pitoyable frère! Que d'atroces veillées je lui dus… The essay came back unmarked with a hasty grade scribbled in the margin, and he thought, great. So I can’t even rebel right. Then what the hell did he do it for? At nights he would lie down and listen jealously to the sound of his own breathing, trying to breathe like someone else, and hating all the time the dark mound of blankets that was Cameron’s back in the corner of his vision. 

He lay down and he lay down and he lay down until one night he woke up and he was no longer lying down but climbing out of the window. It had stuck in the frame as he pulled it up but it was holding, and he shimmied his legs out over the narrow sill, avoiding the open bottle of schnapps on the desk, and thought perhaps there had been enough lying, perhaps he would try running. It must be nice to feel the ground beneath your feet, the steady jolt of your heart in your chest, no entrapment, no cage… his fingers spasmed on the sill and his legs kicked involuntarily, like the legs of men when they were sentenced to hang. He made himself stop thinking. And then after that all was an explosion; sound and noise and no light, no light still but the sharp clinical mortuary beam of the moon by the window. He could not touch it, he tried, and then it was gone again out of his sight and Cameron was kneeling over him on the floor of the room, looking furious. What the fuck did you do that for, he was saying, or maybe it was Why the fuck are you acting like this, or even, Why the fuck him and not you? He tried to say something pithy like I was hoping you’d tell me that, slick, but his mouth seemed to be missing somehow. The words came out of him but he kind of knew he had not said them. Cameron knelt there for a long time, his mouth twisting with a great and terrified fury. There was something shining on his face – tears, maybe… he looked closer and it was blood. He looked down at his hands and saw two deep gouges, running lengthways across his palms. Then the words came. Kind of like Jesus, huh? he said, holding his palms up in front of him. Behind Cameron the door opened and Pitts came in. Maybe he’ll come back.

Jesus Christ, said Cameron, you’re drunk. All around them the shards of the schnapps bottle lay like diamonds, glittering, like the water of the lake he could see from the window. He remembered now; he had been trying to get there. His arms ached to swim. Cameron got up and trembled and said, Could have killed yourself. The rest of it he forgot in the time that passed. 

It was some days later that Pitts slapped him round the face; he jolted, surprised, but with no pain. Pull yourself together, he said to him, do you think any of us like seeing you like this, you shit, don’t you dare go away like that. Pull yourself together. It was desperation and it was ugly desperation but even the ugly desperation was something and everything stopped blurring together if only for a second. The anger had drained away with the slap and Pitts said to him, Meeks is sleeping in your bed tonight. You can take his.

They had moved the stack of books on his desk to Meeks’ temporarily, only taking his favourites, and something very muffled inside him began to weep at the sight. Pitts sat him down on the bed which was newly made and shoved him not unkindly into a lying position and tucked the blanket under him on all sides so that he felt enfolded, and said, Sleep. I’m going to bed too.

Not even curfew, Todd said.

Who gives a shit about curfew, said Pitts, it’s some kind of social construct, it doesn’t mean anything. Sleep. You want me to read you a story?

When he woke up again the moon was stark bright and casting light in slabs through the window and the book in Pitts’ hands had slumped to the floor. He had gotten halfway through the Morte d’Arthur. There had been a lake in that, too… He got up and went soundlessly to the window, which did not squeak this time, and climbed out. 

His shoes he left neatly by the bank. When he came back to himself he was already in the water, and it was so lovingly cold he could have cried, and did. The reality of each of his senses came back to life. Cold and cold and cold. He stretched out an arm and the water held it, and a foot and the water held that too. Each spike of ice through his limbs felt sweet. He heard Neil’s voice and saw Neil’s face, saying, No, and he told him No too in return. He would have to take care of himself, now. But he twisted in the water and thought to himself that Pitts would be waiting for him, which was a beginning. 

He pulled himself out of the lake and gasped for long burning moments, heard by no-one, and understood with complete certainty that he was alone. He would always be alone now, in some sense, for the rest of his life. That space within him would be empty. He opened his mouth and said it loudly: “I do not think he is coming back.” There was a relief to the feel of the words in his mouth that made him retch and he started to cry as he retched, ungracefully, sprawled there by the cold and glittering water. 

He cried until the tears and the vomit stopped coming and then he put the heels of his palms on the ground and pushed himself up against them, ignoring the sting. There was a new great and hollow space inside him and a piercing cold clarity and he had left, it seemed, all of his confusion inside the water. He stood up feeling like he had just been born. Then he started walking.

[lurkinglurkerwholurks]

do you have any advice for writing long fics/series??? I have so many I've been wanting to write but the last times I've tried I always lost motivation, so now I'm scared to try 😭

Ohhh, been there. Okay, so I've done it two different ways, and odds are high that you've only tried one, so maybe whichever you haven't done before, do the other?

Method 1: Write it all, then post one chapter at a time only once complete. That's how I wrote my early multi-chapter series. I was so worried I'd get bored or stuck and bail before I did what I wanted to do, I made sure all of my chapters were written before I posted anything. If you're addicted to the serotonin of feedback, that's fine, find a writing buddy who will read your WIP so you're still getting some of that spark along the way, but don't put up anything public until you're all done and ready to rock and roll.

Side note: This is also a pretty good way to build a bit of a following on AO3. If you promise people up front that everything IS done and written and it WILL finish and you give them a regular posting schedule—a chapter every Tuesday or whatever—they'll subscribe and happily follow along because there's no risk. Short of you getting hit by a bus or something, I guess.

Method 2: If, however, you've tried the above and that's where you're getting stuck, do the opposite. Maybe sketch out some rough notes to yourself on where you want to end up with the fic, just so you know you're heading in the right direction, but then let go of the need for control a little and post as you go along. That's what I had to do for my two biggest fics because they took literal years. Actual literal years, plural. The fear of leaving things dangling might be more motivating than you realize.

Some things to remember:

It's okay to start small. Like, it's tempting to dive right into a mega-sprawling epic of a fic with 100 chapters or whatever, but it's also okay to... not... do that. Try a fic with a few chapters instead. Build that muscle. Get used to writing beyond oneshots. Pre-built structures like 5+1 might help you build that muscle as well.

Sometimes you just gotta... do it. Like, that sucks, I know, it would be nice if there were an easy trick, believe me. Like, the fic I am procrastinating on is not a long one, but it's kicking my butt and it's so frustrating. But I'm getting it done a literal line at a time—for every ask I answer, I make myself hop over into my doc and write another line. Some nights I'm literally messaging Audrey like "I just want to get one sentence done before bed." And I stack one sentence after another until it's done.

It's okay to procrastinate a little. Emphasis on little. It sounds like you get stuck, procrastinate some, then don't stop procrastinating, but it's okay to give yourself a little break. My two biggest fics spawned so many other fics because I would hop from the chapter I would be working on to my distraction fic... until I needed to be distracted from that fic and then my chapter was the distraction!

It's also okay to combine the above methods. For Nature and Nurture, my first big fic, I used Method 2 allllll the way up to, like, the last three chapters or so. I was so scared of fumbling it all at the end that I switched to Method 1 for the last chunk, made myself write it ALL, and didn't post anything else until it was all written.

You can do it!!

[twotangledsisters]

Do you have any writing tips?

Oh, a lot!

I actually used to have an entire blog for writing tips: @deardragonbook you'll want to scroll down a bit to reach the tips, I don't post there anymore but there's still good content... I think the most popular post I ever did was "Sad things you can do in a book other than killing of a character"

But here's some more up-to-date tips!

-Don't force it... but do force it a little bit. I find if you wait for inspiration to hit sometimes it never will, but if you sit down for just five minutes and write uninspired, often times you will enter into a more inspired state. Now if you sit down and after a while you're still not inspired, unless it's one specific chapter you've gotta push through, it's okay to wait! Forcing a story doesn't tend to end with a good story.

-Warmup! We know to warm-up with sport, most people know to warm-up before drawing, the same goes for writing! I have a very random little file where I just write scenes from no specific fic, in no specific order, for no reason other than to warm up.

It has Frederic and Arianna arguing over what their daughter's favorite dessert is.

Teenage Cassandra asking Arianna for help with makeup.

Captain doing push-ups in the garden.

Owl playing dead to get the attention of a six-year-old Cass.

All of these in 200-300 word sprints that I write BEFORE I start working on one of my propper stories! I've done this with numerous stories and projects, just little warm-ups to get a feel for the characters and flow!

-Remember there are writing styles! Some people opt for long sentences with lots of description! Others (like myself) opt for minimal description and spend more time on feelings and actions. Neither one is better or worse, it just depends on what you prefer and the story you're trying to tell!

-CHANGE POV!! This one may be controversial but whenever I'm really, really stuck in a story 9/10 times I can fix that by taking a quick detour to show a different character's pov... I don't know why this work but it just does!

-Find a program that works for you. I've used word/google docs/good-notes/scrivener and more! I write a lot more and a lot faster with scrivener, it's a million times easier for me to go back and check what I've written before when I need to. Having my notes and my outlines in the same document as the main story is great. This just depends on how your brain works but if you haven't tried alternative writing program, you definitely should! You might find one that makes your process a lot easier.

-Use references. Just like in art, you can check out how other writers described a bustling market or palace architecture to inspire your own writing!

I use Descriptionari a lot for this but there's many similar sites out there, reddit writing communities is another great one!

-Have fun! Cheesy, I know, but if you love a story it's going to be a million times easier to write. Don't worry too much if yet another cuddles scene between your fave pairing is getting in the way of the pacing, if it's bringing you joy I can assure you it's bringing plenty of your readers joy too!

Anyway... If there's something more specific you'd like tips on do say cause writing is such a broad subject matter, but those I think are some important ones I have to remind myself of often :D