#A VERY WELL WRITTEN FANFIC

[randooffthestreet]

I don't know how to say this, but I'm busy obsessing over... Diary of a Wimpy Kid ships (Rodrick x Jerry)

[ryssbelle]

Poppy for N2 au, it took me so long to make her design cuz I didn't really know what I wanted to do only because I feel like her design is pretty perfect.

But then I just thought about fun outfits to give her or outfits that I would find comfortable if I was wearing them and it all came together.

Poppy here is pretty much the same as here movie counterpart, as nothing really changes on her end of things other than having more insight on Branch through his brothers, and through Lief. Shes also a bit more understanding a bit earlier on because of it but it doesnt do much to change her own character arc I would say.

Bonus

Part of Poppys design was based off a design I had made for previous rulers of Troll Village/Tree

Namely Queen Protea who I designed as Poppys grandmother

Named after the Protea flower which part of her design is based off :D

In the context of this Au Protea was the one who conceptualized the tunnels while her son, King Peppy, was the one to follow through after her death

[paradoxlemonade]

@mcyt-summer-of-yuri gift for @sooonah !!! It's Gempearl in a Secret Life mage AU <3

[euphor1a]

Best morning ever | cyj

↬ pairing: yeonjun x f!reader

↬ genre: established relationship, domestic au, fluff (if you squint), smut, pwp.

↬ summary: you wake up to your boyfriend between your legs; not that you’re complaining.

↬ rating: 18+ (minors dni)

↬ word count: ~1.9K

↬ warnings/tags: profanity, brief somnophilia(?), dom/sub undertones, cunnilingus, dirty talk, use of pet names, unprotected, penetrative sex, praising, cream pie.

↬ navigation

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🌺 a/n ꒱ hi, hello <3! this is actually the first ever txt fanfic i wrote, back when i started! today, i bring you an edited and ✨enhanced✨ version of the original piece; enjoy! 

Hazy sunlight creeps inside your shared bedroom, announcing the morning not so subtly. Yeonjun is already wide awake, admiring your sleeping form and feeling butterflies in his stomach. He lets his slender finger trail down your jaw, neck, stopping right before your poorly hid cleavage. The enticing sight makes him bite down his lower lip instinctively.

He can see everything through the sheer material of his white shirt on your body, and it’s most definitely making his blood rush to the south. With a shuddering breath, Yeonjun continues his journey, earning a soft whimper from your still asleep self. He stops once he reaches the waistband of your panties, his eyes shooting up to your face. Somehow, you’ve managed to sleep like a baby through the whole ordeal, unaware of the sinful thoughts swirling in Yeonjun’s head. 

You look so peaceful, angelic even, your breaths light and your lips parted ever so slightly. With a fond smile, he shakes his head a little, climbing up on you. Yeonjun takes a few moments to stroke away the tousled hairs from your face, his lips pressing a soft kiss on the tip of your nose. His gentle hands unbutton the shirt slowly to leave you only in your baby blue cotton panties. 

Your boyfriend keenly watches how goosebumps spread over your skin, your nipples erecting against the cold morning air. The urge to lean down and suck on those sensitive nubs is strong, but he holds himself back.

Feeling bare and unprotected in your sleep, you whine in protest, unwilling to open your eyes. The familiar warmth of Yeonjun floods your senses as he kisses you softly, the touch fleeting yet comforting.

You can feel his fingers tugging down your underwear through the haze of your sleep. But you don’t stop him — subconsciously knowing exactly where this is headed to. It only encourages him to go further, his mouth leaving soft nips on your inner thighs. You purr, and he looks up from between your legs, noticing how your breathing picks up from his touch. Yeonjun parts your legs, dragging his mouth along your inner thigh, so close yet not there. He keeps teasing you to his liking, effectively awakening your body from its slumber. 

The pink of his tongue peeks out of his mouth, his hot breath fanning over your core. Your desperate hands grip on the bed sheet, waiting for his touch. After what feels like an eternity, you feel his tongue sliding along your moist folds.

“Junnie!”

You gasp, your lips parting and your eyes flying open. Yeonjun takes the hint, taking your left leg and placing it over his shoulder for better access. He gets to work immediately, covering your pussy with kitten licks, his nose nudging at your clit. With great effort, you manage to support your body on your elbows, his eyes locking with yours. 

Yeonjun’s eyes twinkle with mischief, and before you can comprehend anything, his lips are wrapping around your clit, the sensation making you delirious.

“Don’t… ugh, don’t stop please–” you fall back on the mattress and cry out, his teeth lightly grazing over the sensitive nub.

“Shh, I’m not stopping, baby.”

He flattens his tongue against your slit, going up and down but not giving you what you need. It amuses him — the way you make cute sounds of frustration, writhing uncontrollably under him. You’re entirely under his mercy.

Growing impatient as the urgency rises, Yeonjun finally pushes his tongue inside the molten warmth of your cunt, his low groan sending vibrations throughout you. Your back arches off the mattress from the sensation. The feeling of him inside you intoxicates you, your body hypersensitive to each stroke of his tongue. You both moan simultaneously when he starts fucking you with his tongue, your head hitting the pillow.

Junnie grunts, pushing harder and deeper, your essence filling his mouth. Your toes curl as you crest higher, and he softly brushes his thumb on the sensitive bundle of nerves. You buck up your hips, trying to move with his ministrations as he delves his tongue in and out, his thumb rolling your clit in tight circles. Out of breath, you wound your fingers in his hair, trying to ground yourself.

He softly plucks his tongue out, groaning as he enjoys the way you pull on his hair strands. He dives back down to slurp at your juices eagerly, ravishing you like he’s been starved. Yeonjun wraps his lips around the swollen nub, sucking and grazing his teeth on it.

“Please…” You whimper, your legs shaking as you plead.

“Please what, baby?” He hums, suckling on your clit. “You know you can say it better for me, don’t you?”

“Please! God, I– I’m gonna come!”

You feel his lips curling against you before he pulls away, moving down to your sopping entrance. The warm, flexible muscle slides into you again, his index finger rolling your clitoris. Without prior warnings, your orgasm blazes through you like a tidal wave, body trembling as you gush around him. Junnie moans appreciatively, devouring every single drop that you offered to him. With slow, long licks, he lets you ride out your high, sensitizing you further.

“My princess loves it, yeah? The way I eat out your pretty pussy until you come?”

You open your eyes to find him hovering over your spent body, a devilish smirk on his lips. His mouth is covered with your slick, glistening under the golden rays of the early sun. The urge to have him buried deep inside you invades your mind at the sight, and you mewl, “Junnie.”

Yeonjun quirks one of his eyebrows, “Yeah, baby?” 

“I wan’– need your cock in me.”

“Fuck, you say it so prettily. How can I say no to that?” His hungry mouth finds yours, and you immediately taste yourself on his tongue, a moan escaping you. He pulls down his sweatpants with his boxers, resting his erection between your slippery folds. You feel yourself clenching around nothing, weak at the feeling of his rock-hard cock rubbing against your pussy. He knows you like it; he knows that it drives you crazy.

“Please, baby, I– can’t,” you whine with a pout.

“Please what, my angel?” Yeonjun smiles. Even though he’s running very low on patience, he teases you. His pre-cum is dribbling down onto your slit, making a mess, but he still wants to hear that final confirmation. 

“In me… I’m ready…” you whisper, eyes glazed up.  

“Fuck.” He positions himself along your needy, waiting hole. His bulbous, thick head protrudes in a bit, causing you to gasp. You intertwine your fingers together right before he pushes inside, your head lolling back in pleasure. Your moans get muffled as he kisses you hungrily, your inner walls stretching to give him space.

“Yeah baby, just like that, take it, it’s all yours.”

You manage a broken whisper in response, adjusting to his size. Yeonjun holds you close, starting with slow, languid thrusts, pulling and pushing, giving you time to get used to the stretch. Soon, you start to rock your hips, building up a rhythm with him. He growls, surging his hips forward again and again, hitting all those spots inside you that make you feel mushy. His mouth finds its refuge on your shoulder, cock plummeting into your warm, tight and slippery depths. 

Yeonjun rests his forehead against yours, rasping, “Can you hear that? Can you hear how fucking wet you are for me? Hm?” As if to prove his point, the squelching sound increases, the raw sound of skin slapping against skin magnifying the wet noise. You struggle to form a coherent sentence. But knowing very well that he’ll demand for an answer, you just nod your head vigorously. 

“Baby can’t even talk, huh? Am I fucking my baby dumb? That she can’t even use her words?” A few rough thrusts hit your cervix, tears gathering in your eyes. He’s fucking you good. Yeonjun is in a frenzy, his pace quickening with each of his strokes, deep moans of satisfaction rumbling in his throat.

“Pussy so good, fuck! You’re so good to me, baby, squeezing me so well. So wet and hot for me. Taking this dick like a good girl.” Your boyfriend murmurs all these praises like a mantra, his weight pushing you down and bending you further. Tears gather in your eyes from the intense stimulation. It feels so unbelievably good. Your whole body is buzzing with pleasure.

A string of incoherent words leaves your throat, your nails raking on his back, sure to leave visible marks the next day. His cock twitches inside you, wrapped up snug in your gummy walls, both of you moaning simultaneously. You bury your face in his shoulder as the knot in your lower tummy tightens further. 

“I know you’re close, baby. Come for me.” Yeonjun groans, moving harder against you, making sure to grind against your clit with his pelvis as he moves. Clearly over stimulated, you quiver beneath him, white spots appearing in your vision.

“Junnie!” You cry out, your walls clenching around his cock as you reach your high. He slows down with a low growl, your cunt pulsating around him sporadically. His pace turns sloppy, and he moans your name, getting closer to his own release.

“Fuck, fuck! I’m gonna come, baby. I’m— fuck!” Yeonjun collapses on you, his ecstasy crashing over him as he drains his balls inside you. You shudder, pussy clenching as he fills you up with his seed to the brim. His body gives up, crashing down on you — which you accept with open arms.

You stroke his hair, trying to catch your breath while he soothes the bites left by him in the fit of passion. He rolls over after a while, pulling you close and kissing your forehead.

“Wow… So that was something.” Yeonjun sighs, drawing random patterns on your back with his fingers.

You nuzzle his chest, cuddling up to him, “Why?”

“This is the best way to start my day. Why didn’t I think of this before?” He chuckles, squeezing you in his arms.

“Maybe because your galaxy brain isn’t really a galaxy brain?”

Junnie shoots you a glare, smacking your ass. “Don’t push my buttons, I’m in a good mood, ‘kay?” He continues after a brief pause and sigh, “Wanna take a shower together? To save water, obviously.”

You giggle, “Showers are supposed to clean you up, not to make you dirtier.”

Yeonjun pouts, burying his face in your chest and groaning, “It’s not like I’m coming all over you and making a mess, I just come in you.”

You tap your chin, pretending to ponder over his invitation. On the other hand, impatient and careless, he stands up all of a sudden, picking you up in his arms and carrying you towards the bathroom.

“Why don’t you– ah-mmh!”

The rest of your sentence turns into a whimper as he pushes three of his fingers into your mouth. You moan, looking at him through half-closed eyelids.

“Were you saying something?” Yeonjun sets you down on the bathroom counter, smirking. You shake your head no, sucking on his fingers obediently. “Such a good girl, that’s what I thought. You wanna suck my cock instead of my fingers, baby?”

You nod eagerly, and he pulls his fingers out of your mouth, kissing you passionately. Not to be biased, but this has been the best morning ever. 

Yeonjun prays that all the mornings would be like this from now on. 

˗ˏˋ꒰ 💌 end notes ꒱

thank you so much for reading <33!! i’m like, kinda proud of this 😗? hope this was a good read! apologies for any mistakes left in there!

consider leaving a reblog or a comment to let me know what you think of this!! feedback through asks will be appreciated too! support your local writers, it keeps us motivated to create and share 🌸!

[cluescorner]

I cannot imagine being a Damian stan right now. You've got both Zdarsky's bullshit (where he clearly doesn't give a shit about your boy) and The Boy Wonder (where Juni Ba clearly gives so many shits about your boy) coming out on the same day. The whiplash must be insane. I hope y'all get some nice warm soup for your efforts jfc

[yuseirra]

he's smiling..........

[thebestusernamepossible]

Literally going insane, might have to write fanfic for the first time in 2 years because the people™️ do not get my favorite female characters like I do and I feel the insurmountable urge to write her. I’m going to bite drywall why don’t ppl see her complexities. PLEASE STOP WRITING HER ETHIER AS DOMICILE MOM OR BITCH (or just for shipping) she is so so cool please guys please.

Also while I’m here, fandoms tendency to shove women in the ‘pure powerful goddess who can do no wrong’ box and then proceed to never give them an actual narrative role other than like ‘supportive’ or ‘took out a few background guys’. Like why DOES this incredibly badass and complex female character just get shunted into doinging some cool flips, getting praised about it (she’s the strongest fighter, so feminist wow) then never getting actnowleged as a 2 dimensional character.

I saw this a lot when I was in the Batman fandom, particularly with Cassandra Cain. She is a highly complex and interesting character, but in fandom she’s kind of shunted to ‘Badass therapy dog who takes care of the men’. Because even on the slight chance her backstory is brought up it’s always never delved into and mostly used to make her etheir more tragic and in need of support on a surface level or to let her be compassionate with the men characters who get their actual problems foucused on. It’s a unqiue kind of frustrating because it’s like almost letting the cool female character be cool, but it’s more like the idea of a badass women is shoved in your face, maybe joked about (or if we’re lucky she gets to beat up a few bad-guys), but ultimately treated like a cardboard cutout. Interestingly this actually isn’t entirely a female character thing, it’s also common with like old grandfather/grandmother characters and the elderly in general. But it’s usually badass women from what I see. :/ Why can’t fandom explore their stories (people do but why is it so much less), why can’t they be the prtags of cool AUs or time-travel fix-its, or crossover events

Idk I think I’m just frustrated, and I typed out more than I thought I would. Also Ive seen what happens to some other posts complaining about fandom misogyny, so please know if you’re a TERF, fuck off you have no place in this discussion. We will never agree, and frankly all of these points apply to canon Trans Women characters. Don’t say shit ill fucking end you.

[shiraishi--kanade]

Another thing I need pjsk fandom to realize:

1) there are literal 10 years old (and younger) children in this fandom;

2) the percentage of these children in the fandom is MUCH, MUCH higher than every single one of you here on tumbrl think it is.

"why do people write so much for popular characters?" "why do people write for kudos only?" aside from the fact that the "write for yourself" is a self-perpetuating issue in every fandom and the fact that every writer deserves engagement with their works, it's because there are kids here. Who want to fit in and get praised for their creativity. Which they can only achieve by writing for popular stuff. So maybe take that into account.

[blossoms-phan]

guys can someone reassure me that you want to read phan smut

[cuntylestat]

i do think it's funny that people always write this super flowery purple prose dialogue for lestat because he doesn't really talk like that most of the time

[stereknation]

Moon Chaser by pandabomb

Summary: "I need to find a wolf," said the sheriff's kid, voice full of gusto. Derek set his cigarette in his empty whiskey glass. He let the silence between them settle, though it was drowned already by the band tinkering away by the bar. He waited until the boy was blushing, unsure and tense, before responding, slow and languid: "You found one."

Rating: Teen

Main Character(s): Derek Hale

Additional Character(s): Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall, Sheriff Stilinski, Laura Hale, Peter Hale, Kate Argent, Allison Argent, Chris Argent, Victoria Argent, Isaac Lahey, Erica Reyes, Vernon Boyd, Original Characters

Pairing(s): Derek Hale / Stiles Stilinski, Allison Argent / Scott McCall, Erica Reyes / Vernon Boyd

Tags: Western AU, Alternate Universe - Western, Rated For Violence, Slow Build, Sharing a Bed, Possessiveness, Pack Dynamics, Cuddling, Loss of Innocence, References to Homophobia, Addiction, Minor Character Death, Stiles Blushes a Lot

Words: 24,246

Chapters: 1/1

[irlbop]

Imagine, though, that the first three Papas hadn’t been assassinated, and there really was a plan to have them reincorporated into the Ghost Project. Perhaps not as the frontmen audiences were more familiar with, but there was certainly use to be found. The Ministry could be resourceful when it wanted to be, after all.

Primo would probably feel confused at best, fatigues at worst as the memories of touring and strutting about began to reappear in the marrow of his bones. He was far from young when the Ghost Project had been revived under his visage, and he’d certainly not gotten any younger in the decade that had passed since he passed on the position.

Ever the diligent shepherd throughout his life, the eldest Emeritus son had found himself quite enjoying his retirement: It had allowed him more time to rest, more time to tend to his personal passions. Further to the point, though, what more did he have to offer? Ghost had prospered with each succession. As far as he was concerned, he had done his job: It was now up to the Next Guy to keep it going.

But, ever the good son and dedicated brother, he hears out the proposal. The stage may not call him back, but the Church does. And for that, he must listen.

Secondo would furrow his brow, almost reflexively creating a slight sneer. Though, it’s not out of disgust so much as uncertainty. And Secondo is very rarely a hesitant person.

He knew how the Church saw him: Angry, bitter, so on and so forth. The very things that contributed to the decision to end his tenure.

…Well, that, and perhaps his exorbitant spending on the Ministry’s dime. There was only so much he could get away with under the justification of gluttony, lust, and sloth, evidently.

Regardless, though, he found the prospect somewhat suspicious. After he retired the mitre, the Ministry appeared to want little to do with him. The Clergy kept interactions to a minimum, and most paperwork had been designated to other members often before. Most who look forward to his presence are Siblings with an appetite they claimed only he could satiate — and frankly, he was content with that.

He was far from a dullard, but Secondo couldn’t fathom what the Ministry realistically could pull from him at this point. Perhaps, then, “conflicted” is the better expression he wore: Eyes narrowing at the prospect as he pondered what this could mean, quiet anger that they would demand more of him after he had given them plenty, but also curiosity.

And a bit of temptation. Best to hear the details. Perhaps maybe even confirm the perks. He would keep his guard up of course, but maybe he could regain access to the Black Card if he played the right cards…

And then…There’s Terzo. Of the Papas present, he was the most emotionally expressive.

“Prone to fits of flamboyancy,” Primo would muse if he were in a gentler mood.

“A shameless twit with no damn self-control,” Secondo would insistently correct.

If that moment had been someone’s first exposure to Terzo, however, they probably would not have guessed it. He is the picture of calm. Almost ennui. Heterochromatic eyes sit beneath bushy brows, hooded as though the proposal were someone waxing poetry of the gilded lily that was doing taxes.

If someone who did know of Terzo and his antics were to see him, they might have concluded one of two options: That he was either zoning out, fantasizing about all the schlong and balls and pussy he could be investing time in; or he was hungover and/or high and thus not computing a single syllable that tumbled into his ears.

But Terzo was stone-cold sober. And he was hanging on to every word like claws sink into flesh.

The fact of the matter is that yes, Terzo could be loud. He could be showy. He was outspoken, enduring, a consummate performer. But that didn’t mean Terzo was dumb. It was so easy to simplify him down to a happy-go-lucky himbo of some sort that people — even his own brothers — would often forget the bottom line: He was still an Emeritus, born from a line coated in blood and shadow.

And in that moment, the blood and shadows within him were boiling, as though the essence of The Pit had found itself replaced into his mortal form.

In that moment, he was putting those years of breathing exercises to use by tempering his inhales and exhales to feel less heated, less sharp. Without the papal paints to give illusion to his features, his features seemed sharper, but not necessarily menacing. He was white-knuckling it in those gloves he was almost never without, ever thankful that their cloth texture didn’t give away his feelings like the squeak of leather would.

They want them back? They want him back? How about a proper send-off to his papacy first? How about an actual final show, one last thing to give to the followers he’d busted his ass off to give to the Church? An apology card signed by the Clergy, an Edible Arrangement, something!

He brought home a goddamn Grammy. And how did they repay him?

By dragging him off of the stage, mind-song. This was the way the most successful Antipope to date’s reign had ended: Not with a bang, not with a kazoo, but with a whimper.

He had given the Church everything he had: His youth to studies, his adulthood preparing for succession, his mind, body, and soul put to the form of song for them to exploit. He even gave them things he did not actually possess, but dressed up just enough to superficially please them. Yet now they come back, ready to take even more? What was even left in their eyes to snatch, he might’ve wondered beneath it all?

A dark bile flowed through his veins like the Serpent through Eden. And oh, how this domain did love its corruption. That is, except for when it conflicted with what they wanted. And what this church of expression and freedom wanted, as far as Terzo saw it, was control. Power. All that uncreative jazz. You were only as free as they saw fit.

Well. Fine. This church loved serpents so much, why not become what they loved? He could slither pitifully on his belly. He could sit in wait. He could speak honeyed words. He could remind them he was but a soft, simple creature.

He could bite.

What this proposal to reincorporate himself and his brothers foretold, he did not yet know. And it frankly didn’t matter to him: He would take it. He would take it and cradle it and slowly nurture it with his venom until the Ministry would recognize the necrosis developing far too late to stop it.

He was, after all, an Emeritus: The favored bloodline of the Dark One. He was insurrection, he was spite.

“I see…” he uttered, stifling a nonexistent yawn.

“And this…idea that you have: What’s in it for me?”

[atissi]

i’ll be real i did kinda forget how to draw him but im back in business now

[paradoxlemonade]

My @mcyt-summer-of-yuri gift for @garlicsbreadcrust!

Princesses Pearl and Lizzie share a sweet moment at a royal gala... Let's give them some privacy <3

[nezumeanie]

♡⃣ v a l k y r i e ’ s simple affection is shown by…𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ 𖥻 ִ ۫ ּ

….basking in your presence. mika is content anywhere as long as you’re the person beside him. running errands with you goes beyond being a favorite pastime of his, it’s a genuine honor of his to be allowed to spend the most mundane hours of life with you. holding your grocery bags while talking about the colors in the advertisements you’ve seen in store windows, making up names and stories for puppies seen tied to cafe tables outside, predicting the weather, discussing how intelligent humans are for inventing things for even the smallest of inconveniences—in the silence between topics mika thanks that god over and over again that someone could love a half broken product like him. he feels truly blessed by you, especially if you find the right time to rub his head or scratch under his chin. in the small times you spend together, he blushes so much around you that you begin to believe he really is just a cherry cheeked kind of boy

….pinching your cheek and clicking his teeth. only you can hear the care in shu’s nagging, the softness in his correction. only he can see the hair on your head that’s out of place, the tag sticking out of your shirt. brushing a hair out of your face while your hands are full, fastening your necklace for you after you’ve fumbled with the latch for a minutes or so, retying your shoes for you mumbling about how childish you truly are—shu can’t admit it but he really does enjoy just taking care of you. you’re a precious artifact to him, something that needs delicate hands and a proper home. taking note of the colors you wear often, the times of year you sneeze the most, the kind of drinks that you cringe at, whether or not you enjoy the guitar and if he should find ways to incorporate into his work..even in his own little world, there remains a spot for you. somehow you’re approval has also become vital to his projects, knowing you believe in his genius gives his a sense of pride like he’s never felt when he’s done this alone. after so many years of safe and cold porcelain skin, shu never realized how strong his craving was to feel something so warm and inviting until now

[peixedobar]

Butterflies always come back, and your garden is me.

FINALLY was able to finish this painting I've started around the middle of the year, or even earlier. Its a fanart of @paodocinh's little nightmares AU Can't You See Me? on AO3 and its just SO COOL seriously. You won't regret reading. Anyways, it constantly made me have ideas and I was finally able to put it on the canvas.