#365 days of writing

[lullaby-lilies365]

Introspective - Thranduil

Fandom: The Hobbit

Characters: Thranduil

Words: 391

・❥・ "So much lost already," he whispered into the night, "and yet still more I fear to lose."

Day 2 - Introspective

The shadows felt thicker tonight. They crept into the vast halls of the Woodland Realm, slipping through cracks in the stone like a whispered omen. Thranduil stood alone by the balcony, his silver robes shimmering softly in the moonlight, but the chill wind touched his skin like the ghost of old wounds never healed.

He clasped his hands tightly, steadying their trembling. Around him, Mirkwood lay quiet, its beauty marred only by memories of what had been lost. Each rustle of leaves seemed to carry echoes of a life that had once thrived before shadow darkened his kingdom, before fire burned away everything precious, everything good.

How long had he hidden this pain behind walls of ice? Thranduil had mastered the art of a carefully sculpted indifference; a shield forged of regal detachment, protecting both himself and those who looked to him for strength. But tonight, it cracked under the weight of sorrowful thoughts that whispered of endless loss.

The loneliness gripped him tighter, a tangible ache. Memories rose unbidden of a smile, a gentle touch, warmth that had once filled his halls. A warmth he would never again hold. His wife. Her laughter had once brought life and music to these cold halls. Her loss was an endless echo, one he had learned to silence but never erase.

He turned abruptly, pacing restlessly. The anxious shadows flickered around him, each step amplifying fears he had thought buried. His son's future, the safety of his people. These burdens had always rested heavily on his shoulders. Yet lately, anxiety had seeped deeper, winding through his heart like vines. Would Mirkwood stand strong in the face of the growing darkness? Would Legolas thrive under the weight of his heritage, or would fate claim him too?

Thranduil paused, closing his eyes as he leaned against cool stone, breathing slowly to calm the storm within. How fragile his mask felt in these solitary hours, how easy it would be for grief to overwhelm him entirely.

He lifted his gaze toward the sky, where stars glittered distantly, impassive and unchanging. "So much lost already," he whispered into the night, "and yet still more I fear to lose."

The night offered no answers. Only silence, only cold. And within it, Thranduil stood bearing his pain, knowing he must wear his mask again by morning.

[dandelionsfluff]

Jewelry

Ok so the idea is that there's a jewelry appraiser who can touch a thing and see info about it - like who made it, and who has owned it throughout the years, which means she can also see how old it is and this makes her a great jewelry appraiser. It also makes her an excellent consultant for the popo, one of whom is an old classmate and friend of hers.

Riiing.

Her hand shot out automatically and fumbled over her night stand. The side of hand connected with something, then she heard a thunk on the floor.

Riiing.

Well, now she knew where her phone was. She leaned over the edge and cracked open her eyes. Yep, there it was - right over the air vent, where it always landed.

Riiing.

She reached to grab it and brought it close to her face so she could see the caller I.D. Heroic Harold. His calling at this hour meant business and she had to answer.

"What?"

No one said she had to be nice about it.

"Good morning, Sunshine." He always used her full name, no matter how many times she told him she goes by "Sunny" now - because "Sunny" sometimes gets mistaken for a man, which is better for business.

"What do you want, Harold?"

[trappedinafantasy37]

Can you believe that I have spent this entire year completely obsessed over one fictional character? Minthara Baenre, what a woman you are!

[3vergr3en]

Hi again! I also have this idea of hate fucking Nicholas. He’s getting on my nerves these past few episodes and ofc I love him but I kinda have this fantasy of a wild night with nico where yeah you dislike each other but also have unexplainable desire to HAVE each other right then and there.

Of course, only if you like the idea and are comfortable writing it! Thanks love

🥂 Entangled Desires

(⛓) PAIRING . brother’s!bestfriend!idol!nicholas x fem!reader

(💿) CONTENT . contains mature writing, MDNI.

(📞) A/N . ugh anon, your brain is so yummy 😫😫 Ik what you mean babes, he gives me so— nonchalant but cocky type of vibe that although you know he’s the last person you should consider to let inside your pants, you have this burning desire to fuck him bc you know that he’d fuck you good.

Brother’s!best!friend!Nicholas was always deemed a cocky man. You will never understand how he is best friends with your brother. Euijoo is kind, considerate, and humble. Nicholas is the polar opposite of all of those things.

You thought that little egoism of his would burn out by the end of high school, but it had just gotten so much worse as all three of you grew into adults. It's almost tragic that no one else can see past that ‘I’m so nice and caring’ facade. Not even his fans, not his band members, and unfortunately not Euijoo. Your poor brother has been so oblivious to this, which isn't surprising because he always prioritize the good in people that he oversees the bad. But Nicholas being the little asshole he is, always keeps this crack open for you to peer in, getting a real close look to see his intentions. Wanting you make you seem crazy when you try to warn your brother about him.

He loves to push you over your limits. That little obsession of his started when you three were teens. He’d snatch your clean clothes when you went to shower in the locker rooms after the gym. And he’d only give it back if you..

“Beg nicely for them.” He hums behind you, lips narrowly touching your earlobe.

Startled, you let out a small yelp as you quickly whipped your body around, hands clutching the towel that wrapped around your naked figure that hid beneath. But that fear resided into annoyance remarkably quickly when you saw that stupid, smug grin on his face. “Give. Those. Back. Yixiang.” You muttered, irritation clearly audible in your tone.

He shakes his head disappointingly, “I’ll repeat myself again. Beg. Nicely.” Nicholas recites, giving you a brief, not-so-genuine smile. “C’mon, let me hear you.” His voice deepens when he insists, taking a step forward.

But as much as you hate him, your body tends to react otherwise. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel anything whenever he’d talk to you with such assertion. Especially when he would look at you in a certain way that would make your knees buckle. But being the stubborn person you are, you push past your hormones practically screaming at you and be a big girl. “I’m not begging for shit. Especially not for you.”

“Yeah? Well let’s see about that.”

.

And unfortunately, it continues as you guys are now adults. But instead of verbally taunting you, he’s taken a step further with being more.. physical.

You find yourself hanging out with the group during your free time. Whether it was at their practice rooms, their dorm, or out somewhere— you like being around them and its vise versa for them,, besides one person in particular. And he takes it upon himself to make sure that whenever he sees you, he’d try to have you reeling for the rest of the night.

Tonight, you and the guys were out getting dinner. And unfortunately, the man you oh, so despised had deliberately chosen to sit right next to you— so shocking. “Not tonight, Yixiang. Just let me eat in peace.” You speak, swirling the red liquid around in your glass before taking a long sip.

You fail to notice his eyes gazing down at you, at your figure specifically. The way that mini-dress rode up your thighs and how low-cut the top was, your breasts nearly spilling out if he just.. tug the fabric down. He’s practically eye-fucking you without any shame.

He inches his lips towards your ear, getting real close where you can feel his warm breath on your neck. “No funny business, Nicholas.” You warn once more, eyes darting between the others who were engrossed in their own conversations to notice the two of you who sat at the end.

His big, vainy hand found a place on your bare thigh. His cold rings making contact with your warm skin, making you lightly hiss through gritted teeth. “You look like a whore in that dress. Pretty hot I’d say.” His words rung in your ear, thumb caressing the soft skin of your inner thigh.

You go to wrap your hands around his wrist, contemplating if you should stop him.. or move his hand closer to there. “Wow, so kind coming from a guy like you.” You murmured, side-eyeing him with an unamused expression written all over your face.

“Hm, you say that.. but I can practically feel how hot you are.” He whispers, taking your earlobe in between his teeth to bite on. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough that it makes you squeeze your thighs together— trapping his hand in between your legs.

“Just admit it. You want me.” He adds on, prying your legs apart. “Tell me how badly you want my fingers inside of you.” His voice velvety smooth, just like his fingers as they trace up your thigh till it reaches your underwear.

“I don’t want you touching anywhere on me.” You breathe out, chest heaving as you feel yourself growing hotter.

“Is that so? So you would stop me if I did.. something like this?” He asked, his index and middle finger rubbing your clit through the cotton fabric.

You take in a sharp breath, eyelids threatening to close as you let yourself indulge in the feeling a little bit. “What would the others say if they saw you like this? What would your brother say, hm?” His voice taunts you, but its turning you on even more. And he can feel that as your wetness seeped through your underwear.

Your eyelids shoots open as reality hits you. You’re out at dinner right now. In front of people. In front of your brother who sat oblivious next to you.

He quickens the pace on his fingers, “N-Not here, Yixiang.” You reply, biting down your bottom lip to suppress a moan.

And just like that, he stops.

You gawk at him, eyes hooded with need that couldn’t compare to how his was. Nicholas stared at you with lips slightly parted, deep breaths and eyes filled with lust that sent shivers down your spine. “Meet me in the car in 5.” Is all he said before excusing himself.

.

You don’t know what happened, but you found yourself being pulled into the back seat of his car, and onto his lap with a pair of lips eagerly attaching onto yours. No words were shared, but you both can feel the yearning that was exchanged.

Your hands were found to be in his hair, gently tugging his black locks as he kissed you feverishly. Your heads swayed in a rhythm to match the desperation that was oozing out of you guys.

He momentarily pulls away to catch his breath, and he swears to himself when he allows himself to take in the sight before him. Your hair was disheveled, lips swollen and parted to let out staggering breaths but were glistening in his saliva, and the straps of your dress were hung past your shoulders— top threatening to fall down.

“You look so—“ He was cut short when you kiss him, taking him aback. And a groan emits from his throat when you grind your clothed cunt against his crotch. “Fucking slut.” He curses in between kisses, hands groaping at your ass.

“Shut the fuck up.” You retaliate, lips parting to let out a series of whimpers as his kisses made their way down to your neck. Your flesh was found to be in between his teeth, nibbling on the skin to form red bruises— him knowing that it’ll appear darker for the next occurring days.

You slip the straps off of your arms, allowing the top of your dress to fall freely— your breasts spilling out of its confines. “Fuck. Such gorgeous tits.” You hear him say, one of his hands traveling up your sides till he cups one of the soft flesh in his palms.

“Hurry up Yixiang, before I get dry.” You warn, hands desperately reaching under to undo the belt of his pants. But was stopped with a hand around your wrist, halting you.

“Beg for it then.”

“Fuck you.” You spat.

But his other hand was quick to wrap around your neck and the moan that followed from you was enough to feed his already high of an ego. He pulls you closer to him, lips ghosting over yours. “Beg for it or else I’m leaving you here.” You would’ve thought he was kidding, but knowing him, he’s a man of his word.

He pinches his fingers into the side of your throat, not enough to cut off your air, but enough to give you a warning.

“Please, give it to me, Nicholas.. I want it.” You plea, rolling your hips around in attempt to rub your clothed cunt on his prominent bulge. “Please, Yixiang?”

The way you said his name made something within him internally snap. Was it you calling out for him? Maybe you saying his name in such a seductive manner? Or maybe it’s the fact that you’re finally begging him, especially when it’s for him to fuck you.

He flips you two over with his hand pinning you down onto the seat cushion by your throat. “Such a good girl.” He hums with a cocky smile, halting his movements to dip down and give you a gentle kiss, “All you could’ve done was beg like a good slut and maybe then I could’ve fucked you earlier than now.”

You reacted to that statement with a moan that was not intended to come out, but hey, does it matter at this point? “God, I knew you were a slut— but I didn’t know how much. You’ve probably been waiting for me to fuck you for a while now, hm?” And you nod. You nod desperately. Finally succumbing into your desires all these years.

He leans down to take your lips with his once more, but this kiss was more passionate than lustful. It was as if he was confessing his similar desires, but with a more personal touch to it.

In that interim, his pants were pulled down and discarded, along with his underwear and shirt. Your dress was bunched up to your waist, revealing your lower half. “You’re so beautiful.” He whispered against your lips as he pumps himself in his hand.

“Please, Nicholas,, I—I need you.” You mewl, hands finding themselves on him. One cupping the side of his face, and one pressed flat against his bare chest.

Your underwear was pulled to the side by his fingers, and he allowed the head of his cock to slide between your slicked folds. He thought you may needed prep, but with how much of his cock was being smothered in your arousal, you didn’t need it. His mouth hung open in awe as he watches how easily he’s gliding between you. “You’re so wet, princess.” The pet name rolls off his tongue so smoothly that it makes you clench around nothing but air. You gasp when his head continuously nudges against your clit, giving you the stimulation you needed. He pulls his hips back, grabbing the shaft of his cock to align his tip to your entrance. “Gon’ let me rub this pretty clit, hm?” He coos, his hand reaching up to rub fast circles along the bundle of nerves. “Oh my god—!” You moan as you feel him start to push himself into you.

The sensation of his cock prying your walls apart so deliciously was enough to have your head lolling back with his name slipping off your tongue in a desperate manner. You were concerned with how long you were gonna last when you already felt this good when he wasn’t even fully in yet.

“Oh, fuck.” Nicholas groans as your heat engulfed him tightly. “You’re so tight, fuck. Don’t know why I didn’t fuck this pussy before.” With one push of his hips, he fully bottoms out inside of you— and in unison, you both moan out in pure bliss. Nicholas’s eyes momentarily flutters shut as your warm, gummy walls squeezing him tight was a sensation he didn’t know he needed so badly in his lifetime.

“J-Just.. give me a moment.” You breathe out, your fingers gently taps his chest to indicate that you need a little time to get used to his size. And he gladly onliges without hesitation. Probably the first time where he went along with your wishes. Once you felt more relaxed, you didn’t waste any more time to let him know. “M-Move, please.”

He started with a slow but steady pace, making sure not to overwhelm you although the thing he wants to do to you right now is to fuck you senseless. But he would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy seeing your face contort in pleasure, moans slipping freely past those plump lips. “Yixiang..!” You gasp when a particular thrust had your legs wrapping around his waist.

“Yeah, princess? Does this spot feel good?” He rolls his hips experimentally, wanting to get another reaction like that out of you. And just as he thought, another delicious cry emits from you. “Tell me, does it feel good?” He questions, beginning to pick up the pace. You want to reply, but you’re unable to voice it out at the moment when the tip of his cock keeps hitting at a certain spot that makes your vision blur. “Yixiang! Oh fuck!” You cry as he starts snapping his hips against yours. The force of his thrusts were powerful enough to have you hike up the seat if it weren’t for his hand pinning you down by your neck. “M-More! Oh my god!”

Nicholas had to ground himself from losing his control. But it doesn’t necessarily help when he has the girl of his dreams writhing underneath him, taking his cock like a fucking champ. He forces his eyes to stay open rather than closing them and letting himself get lost in his head and potentially lasting shorter than he anticipated to. Which is the last thing he wants when he finally has you to himself.

You looked so beautiful under right now. The way your glossy eyes gazes at him with such a distinct look of desperation, your furrowed brows of concentration to not finish that quickly, and those beautiful moans that made him want to listen to for hours on end.

You were feeling like you were nearing your end, and the pressure in your lower abdomen was a huge factor. “Y-Yixiang, I’m gonna cum!” You announce with a shaky voice, sharp breaths along with a mantra of his name follows afterwards. And he can definitely feel it too with the way your clamping down on him was dangerously pushing him to cumming inside of you. “Fuck, you feel so good, princess. Come with me, okay? Just hold on a little longer.” He urges you, dipping down to leave open-mouthed kisses on your flushed cheek.

You nod in response, wanting to come with him. But with each passing moment was harder for you. Your hands latched onto his sweaty back, nails digging into the smooth flesh, dragging along his skin as you desperately tried to suppress your growing need to come. “Please, Nicholas!”

He grabbed the back of your knees and pushed them up to your chest, essentially folding you in half. When he pushed himself up onto his knees, he began slamming his hips down onto yours, reaching a deeper angle in this position. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum, y/n.” Hot, fat tears starts rolling down your cheeks as the pressure became unbearable for you to hold. But with one last thrust, his hips were flushed against your ass, and just like that— the knot within your stomach comes undone. A lewd cry leaves your lips as waves of your orgasm washed over you, leaving you to ride it out. With your name spilling out, he spills his load into your sopping cunt. Filling you up so much to the point where his cum began seeping out of your hole.

You guys stayed like that for a few more seconds until he eventually has to pull out, resulting in you whining as even that sensation was overwhelming for you. Your hands reach out to hold his, “D-Don’t go,, stay here for a minute, please?” You breathe out heavily, eyelids threatening to close on you. Nicholas couldn’t help but chuckle as he goes to lay down beside you. He engulfs you into his arms, making sure your naked figure was covered by his. “Wasn’t planning on it, princess.” He whispers, kissing your temple. “Whatever.. I know you would.” You mumble, sighing in content when his hand would gently massage your thigh. “Hm, I’m a little hurt, princess. After all these years, you still don’t know me.”

“I think I know you a little too well.” You respond, looking over your shoulder to give him a small smile.

“Yeah? On a scale of 1-10, how much do you think I wanna go for round 2?”

[wolfjackle-creates]

Bring Me Home Arc 2 Part 20: FINAL

So guess what I realized this morning. Today, November 13, 2023 is the one year anniversary of me posting my first DPxDC fic to tumblr. It was the original fill for this very fic. (Which you can find here.)

So I decided I just had to finish this arc and get it posted. This year has been amazing and so much fun. I've become a much better writer and joined a community that has brought me so much joy. I'm glad to be here and I'm glad so many of you like to read what I'm sharing.

I noticed I got a few new readers over the past week or so, so welcome to all of you! Hope you enjoy this early update!

In personal news, my nephew was born and he's adorable and I'll be meeting him tomorrow! (As soon as I'm done posting this, I'm off to make food for his mom.)

Story Summary: Tim and Danny are both neglected by parents who care more about their work than their families. They deal with this by spending too much time online and find each other playing MMORPGs. They keep up their friendship as Tim becomes Robin and Danny becomes Phantom and don't bother keeping secrets from each other.

Arc 1

Arc 2: Part 1, Previous

Word Count: 1.2k

-----

In the end, it ended up taking several hours for Danny, Sam, and Tucker to escape their families and converge on the park. In that time, Tim had called Bruce to let him know he’d be back in Gotham by tomorrow and finished most of his homework.

While he worked, Wulf and Bart were having an animated conversation in Esperanto.

Tim was pretty sure Wulf would be bringing Bart to the Ghost Zone for a tour sometime and started making plans to learn Esperanto himself and bribe Bart to get in on them.

Cassie was helping Conner sort through some of the music Sam had given him. Tim was jealous as he solved more banal trig questions. Why did school have to be so boring? He tapped his pencil on the paper in time to the beat of whatever music Conner had playing.

Tucker was the first to arrive. “Danny and Sam not here yet?” he asked as he plopped down next to Bart and Wulf.

“Nope. Haven’t heard from them, either,” said Tim. He opened his phone notifications again just to be sure, but there was nothing new.

Tucker shrugged and pulled out a stick of jerkey to munch on. “Not surprising. The Fentons will be all overprotective after the mayor was kidnapped by a ghost on live TV. And Sam’s parents are just as bad. Only they smother rather than check the weaponry.” He turned to greet Wulf in Esperanto.

An email came through on Tim’s phone and he groaned. “Our evening interview was canceled. No one wants to hear us try to defend Phantom anymore.”

Cassie cursed. “Course not. Bet the paper won’t publish our editorials either.”

Conner looked over, confused. “Won’t they? Clark works for the Daily Planet. They publish stuff like that all the time.”

Tim didn’t look up from his math as he answered, “That’s the difference between a big, Pulitzer winning publication and a small-town op-ed.”

Tucker sighed. “Well maybe someone will remember your interviews from this morning in a positive light.”

Bart rolled his eyes. “Come on, we can’t change it. So let’s move forward. Next step, make friends with more ghosts! Wulf says there’s a bunch of cool people in the Realms.”

“Realms?” asked Tim.

“It’s what he says the Ghost Zone is actually called. The Infinite Realms.”

“Huh. I’ll have to check JL databases, see if they have any information on them.”

Tucker asked something in Esperanto and Bart burst out laughing as Wulf looked on in confusion.

With Bart’s help, though, he rephrased until Wulf was able to reply. And then the three kept to Esperanto. Tim really had to find time to learn it.

Sam was the next to arrive. She grinned and sat down next to Conner. “How you liking the music?”

Conner grinned and showed her the sheets where he ranked the bands so far based on which songs he’d listened to. She then took over the speakers and searched for specific tracks to try and change his mind about some of the bands he liked the least.

Tim let his eyes close as his friends’ voices washed over him.

After some indeterminate time where he dozed between sleeping and awareness, a foot nudged his hip. Tim grumbled out what was supposed to be a, “What?” but was too mumbled to really be understood.

“Come on, Secrets. You can do better than that.”

Tim cracked an eye open to see Danny grinning down at him. He pushed himself up slightly and blinked heavily in the sunlight.

“Finally got away from your parents?” asked Tim.

Danny collapsed on the ground next to him. “Ugh, don’t remind me. They’re freaking out over everything that’s happened the last few days. Jazz and I are basically going to be on lock down until they feel confident the ghosts are gone.”

“Did you have to sneak out to get here?” asked Cassie.

Danny shook his head. “No, I told them I was going to find you guys to make sure you were all safe. You’re welcome to come back to ours tonight, by the way. Mom and Dad basically insisted on it.”

“What do you guys think?” asked Tim. “Spend one more night here at Danny’s and head out in the morning?”

Cassie sighed. “My mom’s already freaking out that I’ve been gone longer than planned. I should get back tonight.”

“I’ll stay,” offered Conner. “I’m your ride home, anyway.”

“Why don’t you come to my place, Conner,” offered Sam. “Your nails need a fresh coat after fighting today. And I need teach you about the different brands of makeup and what to look for in terms of cost, quality, and ethicality. Plus I can get you more music.”

Tim laughed when Conner looked to him. “Go for it. Have fun.”

Conner grinned. “Then yeah, let’s do it!”

Bart shrugged. “Wulf is going to go back to the Realms soon. I’ll head out after. Wally and Linda want me over for a family dinner tonight.”

“Well, looks like that’s it, then,” sighed Danny. “Been fun having other heroes around.”

Tim nudged his shoulder. “Join the Young Justice. You could join us and we'd help out whenever you wanted. Get you around people who actually appreciate what you do for them.”

But Danny was already shaking his head. “I have to stay here. And now Amity trusts heroes even less. I want to improve that, not make it worse.”

“Even if you don’t join,” declared Conner. “You’re not getting rid of us now.”

Bart nodded his agreement. “Yep. We’re gonna be stopping by all the time. You’re in the group chat.”

“Exactly,” agreed Tim. “And we’ll figure out ways to help you. Starting with how to minimize property damage. That seems to be the big thing people focus on. You can make shields, right? How big can you make them and how much power do they take?”

Danny smiled wryly. “Can’t say I’ve really tested it.”

Tim laughed. “Well, I know one thing we’re doing tonight. We’re going to go back to Nasty Burger—” Tim looked around at the whole group “—all of us. Then Cassie and Bart are going to go home. Danny and I, at least, are going to take a nap. Then we’re gonna test the current limits to Danny’s powers.”

Danny bumped their shoulders together. “You know, this is just like gaming with you all those years.”

“Yeah, well, it’s best to be thorough.”

“We’ve measured, like, his top speed and stuff,” said Tucker, pulling out a PDA. “Want to see what we’ve got so far?”

“Absolutely.” Tim took the device and looked through it. “You’ve a decent amount of information here. Maybe instead of taking a nap, I’ll help you organize it and come up with a testing plan.”

Conner flew over to him and pulled the PDA out of his hand. “Not after pulling an all-nighter you won’t. We’re going to get some food, then the two of you are going to sleep for at least four hours.”

“I’ll set Jazz on you, too,” threatened Sam. “Don’t think I won’t.”

Tim pouted as the device was given back to Tucker. And grumbled more when Conner picked him up and threw him over his shoulder.

“Come on, food time.”

“I am going to put kryptonite in your phone,” threatened Tim.

“Bingo!” shouted Cassie.

Danny laughed as he stood. “Does this mean I can join the next round?”

Tim scowled. “Traitors, all of you.”

-----

Next

And that's the end of this Arc! Arc 3 will pick up where the original fill did. (Only this time, Tim won't be the only DC character there to help Danny.)

I'd say something like I can't believe it's only been a year, but so much has happened to me in the last twelve months that it feels like a lifetime ago, to be honest. But it's been a good year and I'm glad this community has been part of it.

Please follow the subscription post if you want updates for when I start transferring this arc to AO3 or begin posting Arc 3.

[stranger-things-yapper]

Byler nation, I'd like to present to you a fanfic scenario that I wish more people would write about:

Ok, there's this anime called 365 Days To The Wedding that is basically I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry but with the main couple actually falling in love in the process. The plot goes something like this:

They both work in the same travel agency, but they don't talk. One day, there's an announcement: the main office is looking amongst employees for candidates to move to Alaska, to open a new branch - they want to facilitate trips to see the Northern Lights. Since it is such a big move, the main office asked for the managers of each existing branch to submit candidates who are single and younger, to minimize the stress of the transition. The announcement comes a full year before the candidate is picked.

Everyone, including the main characters, is scared to be picked because it is a very big move. Main Character A doesn't want to move because they have adopted a cat and said cat is finally feeling comfortable in the new surroundings of their house, and they don't want to stress it with a big move to a whole different time zone and climate. Main Character B is autistic (they don't say it but it is so so so coded) and their special interest is the natural beauty of the country they live in - they go out whenever they can during their free time to explore trails, mountains, rivers, etc.

Main Character B bumps into Main Character A outside of work, after the announcement. They have a quick chat, and MC B hears about MC A's cat and how it would suck to move out. So, MC B proposes an insane plan - for both of them to pretend to be getting married, to dissuade their manager to pick them as the candidates for the move. And, more insanely still, MC A agrees. Now they just have to maintain the ruse for an entire year to keep their families and coworkers from finding out the truth.

And this to me would be a perfect scenario for a Strangers To Lovers Byler fanfic.

I can picture it now, based on some of the plotpoints of the anime: Will being the one who has the cat, Mike being the head of a local DnD club that simply cannot function without him, both being too shy to ever get to know each other.

Mike proposing the scheme to Will, writing a whole campaign's worth of strategies depending on several different scenarios. Will being in awe of how thorough Mike can be, and feeling inadequate next to him. Will vowing to give his all to compensate for his lack of planning for this ruse to work.

Mike and Will leaving work together, making each other lunches, meeting outside of work - all to avoid suspicion from their coworkers, spending more time together than ever before. Faking pictures of outings, dates, important memories, to seed around their homes in case someone springs by unannounced. Lines getting blurred when they spend so much time so close to each other. Inevitably having to get to know each other, so their stories can match if they are ever ambushed alone and made to talk about the other.

Mike's family inevitably finding out about the wedding and confronting Will behind Mike's back. Ted wanting to know who Mike has deemed worthy of joining the family, and inviting Will to their home, which is on the countryside (Mike would absolutely take the first opportunity to get out of his family's house and live alone in the city), where Karen is super accommodating and makes Will feel already like part of the family, and Holy and Nancy come home at the same time specifically to meet Will and tease Mike relentlessly about the wedding ceremony.

Will meeting El, Mike's childhood best friend and first crush, and being oh so jealous, then feeling guilty about being jealous when everything he has with Mike is pretend.

Mike using a bunch of DnD metaphors to explain their plan, then spending even more time explaining DnD to Will so he understands what the fuck Mike's talking about. Will paying attention to every word and being so in awe of how Mike is dedicated to this game and his club. Mike having to look away from Will from time to time because the look he's being given makes him blush - he's never had anyone who doesn't play DnD pay this much attention to him before.

Mike trying his damn best to not rile up Will's cat whenever he has to go to Will's apartment. Will being endeared by the care Mike demonstrates.

Someone leaving anonymous messages to the both of them, saying they know they are lying, and threatening to expose them. Mike and Will having to roleplay as a couple even harder to really avoid suspicion, and teaming up to try and find out who is this anonymous person jeopardizing their plan.

Meanwhile their manager puts them on the spot at work whenever possible, since the wedding announcement had the weirdest timing considering the Alaska transfer. They go on happy hours, they are assigned tasks together, coworkers are sent to drop things at their respective homes, anything that might make them slip and show that they are not actually in love. And if they do, they will be the only ones sent to Alaska just out of petty revenge for trying to fool their manager.

No, it is not lost on me that I wrote several paragraphs of this scenario and I should just write the fanfic already but if I fucking start ANOTHER WIP I might rip my hair out. I just needed to get it out of my head.

[fandom-monium]

I don't want kids but

He wants a daughter, I'll give him a daughter 🗣😈🤰🏽

[maximura]

[jade-of-mourning]

they both deserve to lose their shit just a little bit -- which may not be the most effectively conveyed here, but my sentiment is there (i swear)

[kifu]

On her way down the hallway, Rogue heard the front door to the mansion open. Remy’s voice, laced in surprise, greeted the guest. Curiosity getting the better of her, Rogue ambled down the hall to the balcony over the entryway. A young woman, around the same age as the high schoolers that all resided there, shivered before Remy. She wore long sleeves and pants, but no coat. Her blonde hair was done up in braids, but it somehow added to a fearsome air rather than young.

“Dis where you been hidin’ out an’ avoidin’ responsibility, eh?” the woman asked Remy. Her accent nearly matched Remy’s, but it was much thicker. Rogue had to strain her ears and concentrate to make out the words.

“Should’a known one’a yas was gonna find me sooner den later,” Remy replied with resign. Rogue blinked. Suddenly, his accent that she already had a difficult time understanding at times, was just as thick as the guest. He shrugged his coat off his back and wrapped it over the blonde’s shoulders, leaving the sleeves dangle at her sides. “Ya must be cold. Whatchoo t’inkin’, comin’ up nort’ wit’out no coat, ma chere?”

“Came ta get you, sot,” the blonde scoffed. She stepped forward, inches away from him, angling her face to his. “Dat gonna be a problem?”

Remy stared at her, refusing to relinquish his ground. “I ain’ doin’ it, Belle.”

Her expression immediately flashed to one of anger, though it whisked by in an instant. The next thing Rogue knew, her mouth was on Remy’s. She kissed him with furious passion, and Rogue was certain that he kissed back. Rogue threw herself to the floor, her back against the banister. She shoved her fist against her mouth to quiet herself, and then leaned over to continue watching through the balusters.

In the short time Rogue worked through her crisis, the woman had pushed Remy back, slamming his back into the nearby wall. She gripped his wrists and held them tightly against the surface. Remy’s coat remained perched precariously on her shoulders. “I t’ought you love me, Remy,” she mewled. She pressed herself against him, her lips brushing against his face as she spoke. Rogue could barely hear her words.

Either she had some unseen super strength, or Remy didn’t care to fight back against her. His chest rose in a deep breath, and then he let it out in a strong heave. “I can’ keep doin’ it no more. It all a ploy doomed t’ fail. I go back, da bot’a us only gonna have more targets on our backs. Our guilds, dey meant ta stay sep’rate.”

“I ain’ afraid, mon amour. T’gether, I know we make it work. You fight like an assassin an’ you’ll have me by your side.” Rogue’s brows knitted together. She wasn’t sure she’d ever actually seen Remy fight. What did she mean that he fought like an assassin? That sounded like a terrible thing.

“I not afraid, either,” Remy rumbled. “I tired.”

“Dat why you ran away?”

“I di’n’t - ” Remy pursed his lips and held a tight breath. “I left ‘cuz’a somet’in’ completely dif’rent.”

“Like what?” the woman demanded.

Remy’s eyes finally slid away from her and any fight he had left in his posture disappeared. “Needed help. Mah mutant powers, I coul’n’t control dem. Found someone dat could help. Turns out, dat came at a … steep cost.” Rogue leaned into the spindles hard enough to hurt. He had enough history with this woman to be more open with her than anyone else around the mansion. Than with Rogue. How could Remy say that he was serious about them when he seemed to keep everything from her?

“What dat gotta do wit’ N’awleans?”

“Da cost brought me a job – up ‘round here in Nawy’rk.”

“Den why d’in’t ya come back?” she asked with mounting frustration.

Remy didn’t answer, but his breathing became more ragged. Rogue realized in the entire time she knew him, she’d never seen Remy in distress. Even when situations could have called for panic, he managed to stay cool and level-headed.

“Remy?” the blond prompted tersely.

His name was enough to snap him back to regain control of himself. “I join up here,” Remy said noncommittally. While this entire exchange was making Rogue realize that she hardly knew Remy at all, she did understand him enough to know that this was … a lie. Rogue wasn’t sure why, especially since it ultimately did end up being truth, but joining the X-Men was not the reason Remy stayed in New York. She believed him that he didn’t want to go back to his home in New Orleans, but obviously things were a lot more complicated than he made it out to be when he first explained his disappearances.

“So ya jus’ drop everyt’in’ ya had goin’ for ya un’er Jean-Luc. Ya abandon him an’ me. Our marriage an’ da union ‘tween da t’ieves an’ da assassins. An’ you what? Decide ya ain’t t’ief no more? Dat ya better’n us?” Rogue pressed her fist back against her mouth, processioning the accent-garbled words she’d just heard. Marriage? That assassin word again – and thief? Rogue understood none of it. He was married? Tears tickled her chin before she realized she’d begun to cry.

“Nah, ya got it wrong,” Remy sighed. “I ain’t fit da be da prince’a t’ieves. I ain’t Jean-Luc’s protege. I jus’ le Diable Blanc from da streets. I gone back t’ help Jean-Luc here’n den, but I tellin’ ya da plans our guilds had t’ unite ain’t gonna work.” When the majority of the X-Men told Rogue that Remy was sketchy, she didn’t think they’d meant it so literally. Remy as a thief explained so much, but Rogue couldn’t comprehend the extent of it all.

The woman snorted and finally released Remy’s wrists, but she didn’t step back to unpin him from the wall by proxy. “He got plans t’ disown ya or somet’in’? What ain’t ya tellin’ me?”

“Ain’t important,” Remy said with dangerous conviction. “But no. Jean-Luc don’ know. He want me back. Him’n Henri jus’ short’a beggin’ me t’ stay e’ry time I down der, but … ma chere, ma amour, it ain’t home no more.” Rogue’s heart skipped a beat, jarring her entirely. She’d caught the pet name earlier, but he called most girls “chere”. He was adding possessives with this lady. She was his love? His wife? He really was playing Rogue like a fiddle and she was bending to his every move.

“Da hell it ain’t, Remy LeBeau!” the woman snarled. “We ruled da streets’a N’awleans as kids, an’ we’ll rule da un’erground as rightful guildmasters, cher.”

“Bella Donna, enough,” Remy said, his tone back to level reason. “Da t’ieves, I know dey all stan’ behind me an’ follow me if I ask, but dat ain’t da life I lookin’ for.”

“Why not?” Bella Donna demanded.

“Je t’aime toujours, ma amour,” Remy replied dismissively. “But I beggin’ ya t’ leave dis ‘lone. Me an’ da t’ieves, we been workin’ t’ings out - ”

“It ain’t workin’, Remy,” Bella Donna cut in firmly. “We know da stupid li’l plans you been concoctin’ wit’ Jean-Luc, but short’a you comin’ home, da assassins guild gonna kill your entire family.”

Remy’s posture broke, his head smacking against the wall behind him. Rogue wiped the tears from her eyes and stared at him intently. “Okay,” he said softly after a lengthy pause.

“Okay?” Bella Donna echoed crossly.

“I go home wit’ you. I don’ need der blood on my hands.”

“An’ me? I ain’t somet’in’ in dis?”

Remy peeled himself away from the wall and grabbed her hands in his own. “Ma amoure, don’ you go believin’ somet’in’ silly like dat, hmm? I love you since da day we met an’ stole candy from dat shop owner.” His face was so close to hers, that Rogue felt hot fury burn away the wetness of the tears off her cheeks. He wasn’t the one to initiate the next kiss, but he didn’t push Bella Donna away when she kissed him again.

Rogue had seen enough. She rolled off the banister spindles and crawled back to the hallway she’d come from. She stood once she was sure she was out of eyesight. The tears came freely again, angry sobs threatening to betray her eavesdropping.

“I gotta tell someone I leavin’ first,” she heard Remy say. This came more clearly and loudly to her ears than any of the other bayou words out of their mouths.

“What for?” Bella Donna asked.

“I promised,” Remy explained simply.

“Oh, so dis personal an’ not professional, hein?”

“Yeah. Dis one is.”

He was coming for Rogue, Rogue realized. He’d promised her specifically that he’d make sure to tell her that he was leaving for home when the occasion arose.

She tore down the hall, masking her footsteps as best as she could in her haste. Hiccups interrupted her muffled cries as fury swirled heavily in her chest. He’d been leading Rogue on all along, but he had the audacity to continue playing pretend for when he came back? He’d lied and charmed her the entire time he’d known her. She was a game to him. And for what? He couldn’t touch her. Rogue couldn’t fathom why her, of all people. There was nothing she could give him. Bella Donna was a much better fit.

[unsurebazookacore]

my mom very awkwardly coming into my room and handing me my freshly folded laundry telling me "you should be happy in life" 30 minutes after i finished a full mental breakdown in front of her because she said she's not paying for college unless I get into a top 30 university

[lullaby-lilies365]

Day 5 - Elegiac

Fandom: The Hobbit

Character: Thranduil, brief mention of Legolas

Words: 814

・❥・”Healing would mean forgetting her.”

Note: AU where he actually received The White Gems of Lesgalen but at a cost.

*ೃ༄ Elegiac .ೃ࿐

The halls of the palace were silent.

Moonlight poured through the high windows, illuminating the emptiness with a soft, indifferent glow. The shadows stretched long, lingering on the space beside him, where she had once sat, where her laughter had once filled the air like a melody too sweet to forget.

But now, only the silence remained. The echoes of her presence haunted the room as if her absence had become a living thing, wrapped around the walls like a shroud.

Thranduil stood alone. His form cast in the pale light as unmoving as the stone at his feet. His heart, though weary, still beat with the sharp ache of loss. He had not dared to move from this spot in what felt like an eternity. The room, once shared with her, had become a prison. A tomb of memories, every corner steeped in what could have been and never would be.

The casket was small, unassuming in its simplicity. Yet it was more precious to him than all the riches of Middle-earth. It sat upon the table untouched as though waiting for some sign, some acknowledgment. The White Gems of Lasgalen, glistening softly in the moon’s pale light, were a cruel reminder of what he would never hold again.

She had commissioned them for him. Beautiful, delicate gems crafted by the dwarves. A gift. A promise.

And yet, by the time they had been delivered, she was gone. The message had reached him the same day: she would never see the gems, never place them in his hands as she had once hoped. Never see the smile that would have bloomed on his face at the sight of them.

Thranduil’s fingers hovered over the lid, trembling ever so slightly. The wood was smooth beneath his touch, worn by the years, but the weight of it, the weight of her absence, was unbearable.

He closed his eyes and let the sorrow rush over him like a tide. It had been years now. Years of pretending to be strong, years of wearing the crown that demanded his focus, his duty, his resolve. But at night, when the stars took their place in the heavens, he could feel it - the deep, unyielding grief that had become his companion.

Sometimes we do not wish to heal.

Healing would mean forgetting her. Healing would mean accepting that she was gone, that she was just another chapter in his long life, her memory fading into the past like so many others. He could not let her go, not when everything about him still screamed her name in the darkness.

The pain was all that remained of her. The pain was the last link, the last vestige of everything she had been to him. It was the only thing he could hold onto, the only thing that kept her alive in his heart. To forget would be to lose her forever.

No. He could not lose her. Not when every breath he took still carried her scent, every corner of the kingdom still whispered her name.

And yet, there was another truth he could not ignore.

His son.

Legolas.

Thranduil’s gaze drifted toward the hallway where the soft murmur of his son’s dreams lingered. Legolas. His child, their child.

The boy had her eyes. The boy had her heart, the same warmth, the same kindness that she had shown him, and yet, even in his son’s bright smile, there was an empty space. An ache for the mother he would never know.

Thranduil turned back to the casket, his hand trembling as it hovered over the lid once more. The gems remained locked away, untouched, just as she had remained out of his reach, just as he had remained out of hers.

He could never open that casket. Not yet. Not now. Not when the grief was all he had left of her.

A sudden, painful longing tore through him. A longing to hold her once more, to hear her voice, to feel her hand in his, and to kiss her forehead as he had done so many times in the quiet of their shared nights.

But she was gone, and all he had now was the cruel memory of what could have been.

One day, perhaps, he would be able to let go. One day, perhaps, when the weight of his crown grew too heavy, and the years took their toll. But not today. Today, he would hold onto the pain, because in the pain, she was not lost. In the pain, she still existed, still remained a part of him, even if only in memory.

He exhaled sharply, the sharpness of the breath burning as it passed his lips. The casket, untouched, remained before him, its silent plea pressing into his soul.

But Thranduil only shook his head.

Not yet.

For now, the sorrow would stay. The sorrow would be his crown.

[dandelionsfluff]

Rewrite

For this one, I'm to take a poem or short story and rewrite it in my own words. Do you know this one?

I'll always have a light for you shining by my door

To welcome you into my home, whatever you're here for.

To rest your weary head a bit? To come and play a game?

You want to sit and talk a while? It's really all the same.

It doesn't matter who you are, how big of tales you spin.

I'll welcome you into my home, so please, do come on in!

[crehador]

trying very hard not to psych myself out about tomorrow being the last daily but the head is going oh god oh fuck what am i even going to write

[caluski]

today at the store i behaved like a child.... i bought a diary/journal and crayons.... lets attempt journaling again

[aki-natsuko]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Overwatch (Video Game) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Genji Shimada & Hanzo Shimada Characters: Genji Shimada, Hanzo Shimada Additional Tags: Family, Choices, Promises, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Memories, Ambiguous/Open Ending Summary:

That is not your choice to make. Genji is as a Shimada and must act as such, and if he will not…

Hanzo was the heir. He was supposed to hold the power of the Shimada name, ready to bear its full weight when he reached his next birthday, and it meant nothing. In their eyes, he was nothing but a titled piece on their chess board.

And Genji… …his baby brother, was even less.