#I was waiting for someone to write this post

[p0orbaby]

All I Want for Christmas

summary: your daughter didn’t get the one present she really wanted

warnings: none !

a/n: thank you for the request, i hope you like it !

word count: 2.9k

-

You notice something’s off with Eliana two days after Christmas. At first, it’s subtle—an anomaly so slight it could almost be chalked up to post-holiday fatigue. Normally, mornings with Eliana are chaotic in a way that feels both exhausting and oddly necessary, as though the house depends on her noise to keep it from crumbling into silence. She bursts into the day like a firework: her small feet slapping against the wood floors, her hair a wild halo of dark curls, her voice ricocheting between pitches as she narrates her life in real time or belts out whatever song has recently embedded itself in her psyche.

Today, there’s none of that. She lingers in her pyjamas—a pair with faded unicorns that she refuses to let you throw away despite the fraying cuffs—long after breakfast. When you remind her to brush her teeth, she drags her feet, her movements lethargic in a way that feels rehearsed, like she’s trying to stretch each step into eternity. It’s the absence of urgency that unsettles you. Eliana thrives on urgency. She once cried because Alexia beat her to the front door when the postman rang.

But this morning, there’s no competition. No noise. No off-key rendition of Vampire by Olivia Rodrigo echoing from the bathroom as she “forgets” to spit out her toothpaste. You’re struck by how quiet the house feels. Not peaceful—just wrong.

By lunch, the feeling hardens into certainty. Eliana picks at her sandwich with the detached precision of someone performing a task they’ve been paid to complete. She peels the crust away slowly, meticulously, her small fingers working like a jeweller inspecting a flawed diamond. The crust sits in a neat pile beside her plate, untouched. So do the carrot sticks you’ve artfully arranged into a star shape—an attempt to disguise healthy food as something fun. Usually, she’d at least nibble on the points before declaring them “too crunchy.” Today, she doesn’t even bother with the charade.

And then there’s the Coke. You could write a thesis on Eliana’s Coke-stealing habits. How she waits, biding her time like a cat stalking prey, until you’re sufficiently distracted—mid-sentence, mid-bite, mid-thought. The moment your guard drops, she strikes: clutching the can with both hands, her face breaking into a grin so triumphant it’s impossible to be mad. You always let her have one sip, though you draw the line at more. She doesn’t push her luck; she knows where the boundary is and takes satisfaction in skirting it.

But today, the Coke sits untouched. You leave it on the table deliberately, watching her from the corner of your eye, waiting for the familiar rustle of movement. It doesn’t come. She doesn’t even glance at it.

Alexia notices it too. She’s standing at the kitchen sink, rinsing the cutting board she insists on hand-washing because the dishwasher “ruins the wood” (a claim you’ve never verified but don’t argue against). “She’s been quiet today,” Alexia murmurs, glancing towards the living room. Her tone is casual, but there’s an edge of concern beneath it.

You follow her gaze. Eliana is curled up on the sofa, her knees drawn to her chest, her chin resting on top of them. The TV plays some saccharine animated film about magical snowmen and plucky penguins—one of those films where everything sparkles unnaturally, and the characters blink too often. Normally, Eliana would be transfixed, laughing at all the wrong parts and narrating the plot aloud despite everyone already watching. But today, she’s motionless. Her eyes are glassy, unfocused, as though the screen is a window to a world she can’t quite enter.

“Maybe she’s tired,” you say, though you don’t believe it. Eliana doesn’t do tired. Even as a baby, she fought sleep like it was a personal enemy, crying herself hoarse rather than admit defeat. Sleep was a battle you rarely won outright; most nights, you settled for a stalemate.

Alexia doesn’t look convinced either. She dries her hands on a dishtowel, her brow furrowed. “I don’t know,” she says. “This isn’t like her”

It isn’t. And that terrifies you in a way you can’t fully articulate. You watch her from the kitchen doorway, your hand resting lightly on the frame, as though bracing yourself against an invisible weight. She looks small. Fragile. The kind of fragile that makes you want to wrap her in bubble wrap and keep her from the world.

But it’s not her size that unnerves you—it’s the silence. Eliana’s silence feels like an absence, like something crucial has been taken away without your permission. You can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong, though you don’t know what.

And that, more than anything, is what scares you.

-

You get your answer that evening, during bedtime. Eliana’s room is a testament to her devotion to pink—a monochromatic sanctuary where even the air seems tinged with a rosy hue. The walls are painted a soft blush, a decision you regretted halfway through applying the third coat but one you could never take back once she saw the finished product and declared it “princess perfect.” Her duvet cover is a riot of pastel stars, most faded from repeated wash cycles and the occasional chocolate milk spill. On her bedside table sits a lamp with a shade adorned with tiny ballerinas, their poses forever frozen mid-pirouette.

The bookshelves, crammed to the edges, are an organised chaos of her literary life. Picture books dominate the lower shelves—familiar titles with tattered spines that you could recite in your sleep (Guess How Much I Love You has practically become your mantra). Higher up, a collection of chapter books gathers dust, ambitious purchases she insisted on during a trip to the bookstore, her eyes wide with determination. She struggles with the longer words but refuses to ask for help, insisting on piecing together syllables with the kind of stubborn grit that feels both infuriating and endearing. She gets that from you.

You tuck her in with the practised efficiency of someone who has made a ritual out of bedtime. She clutches Mr Snuggles, a stuffed rabbit so battered it looks like it’s survived a war zone. He’s missing an eye, his fur matted beyond recognition, but to Eliana, he’s irreplaceable. You know this because you’ve tried to replace him—multiple times, in fact. You’ve scoured boutique toy stores, online shops, and even eBay, searching for a plush rabbit with vaguely similar dimensions. Each attempt has been met with disdain. “It’s not him,” she always says, clutching Mr Snuggles tighter as though you’d threatened to take him away permanently.

“You’ve been quiet today,” you say, brushing a strand of dark hair away from her face. Her hair has reached that awkward in-between length where it’s too long to leave unchecked but too short to do anything meaningful with. She hates the hairdressers, the stiff capes they drape over her, and the stylist’s endless chatter about her favourite Disney princess. You’ll have to bribe her with ice cream to get her there.

She doesn’t respond immediately. Her gaze drifts upwards, her eyes fixed on the ceiling as though it holds the answer to some unspoken question. Her fingers tighten around Mr Snuggles, her thumb absently stroking the spot where his eye used to be. Finally, she speaks.

“Santa didn’t bring me what I wanted”

Your stomach twists in the way it does when you know something is wrong, but you can’t yet identify what. “What do you mean?” you ask, keeping your tone light. “He brought you loads of things. That dollhouse you’ve been asking for since May, the colouring set with the glitter pens—”

“No,” she interrupts, her voice soft but resolute. “I wanted a sister”

You blink. “You wanted what?”

“A sister,” she repeats, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “And he didn’t bring me one”

For a moment, you’re too stunned to respond. Your brain cycles through a series of fragmented thoughts: What? When? How? You glance over your shoulder, half-expecting Alexia to materialise in the doorway, her presence offering a lifeline. But the hallway is empty, save for the faint hum of the washing machine on its spin cycle. You’re on your own.

“When… when did you ask Santa for a sister?” you manage, your voice strained with the effort of keeping a straight face.

“At school,” she says matter-of-factly. “We wrote letters. Miss García said we could ask for anything we wanted”

“And you asked for a sister?”

She nods, her expression solemn in the way only a six-year-old can manage when they think they’ve been wronged.

“And you didn’t think to mention this to me? Or Mamá?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise”

You press your fingers to your temples, as if physically holding your head together will help you process what you’re hearing. A surprise. Of course. Eliana watches you with wide eyes, her expression expectant. It dawns on you that she’s waiting for an explanation.

“Well,” you begin, your words slow and deliberate, as though carefully navigating a minefield, “Santa doesn’t… bring people as presents”

“Why not?”

Because it’s illegal. Because Santa isn’t real. Because your wife and I can barely handle the one child we already have.

“Because,” you say instead, stalling, “that’s not how it works. Sisters are… different. You don’t get them from Santa”

Her brow furrows, and for a moment, she looks startlingly like Alexia—her small face drawn into a frown of concentration, as though dissecting your words for hidden meaning. “Then where do they come from?”

You pause, the weight of the question settling over you like a heavy blanket. There are a dozen ways you could answer this, most of them wildly inappropriate for a six-year-old. You settle on, “From Parents, sweetheart”

She considers this for a moment, her head tilting slightly to the side. “So can you and Mamá make me one?”

The question hangs in the air, absurd and sincere in equal measure. You feel a sudden, overwhelming urge to laugh. Or cry. Or both. “It’s not that simple, Eliana”

“Why not?”

Before you can answer, Alexia appears in the doorway, her hair pulled into a loose bun, her face flushed from the effort of folding laundry. She takes one look at your face, at the strained expression and the faint sheen of panic in your eyes, and bursts out laughing.

-

Later that night, after Eliana is finally asleep, you and Alexia sit in the living room, letting the weight of the day settle over you. The room is dim except for the soft glow of the Christmas tree lights, blinking lazily in alternating patterns. The air smells faintly of pine needles and the remnants of the vanilla candle Alexia lit hours ago but forgot to blow out. There’s an almost sacred stillness in the house, the kind that feels rare and precious when you have a six-year-old.

Alexia hands you a glass of wine, her fingers brushing yours for a moment longer than necessary. She sits beside you on the sofa, curling her legs beneath her and pulling a blanket over both of your laps. She’s wearing an oversized hoodie—yours, you think, judging by the way the sleeves swallow her hands—and a pair of faded joggers. Her hair is loose, falling in soft waves around her face, and there’s a faint smudge of mascara beneath one eye that she hasn’t bothered to wipe off.

She looks tired but beautiful, the kind of beauty that feels effortless and intimate, like a secret only you’re privy to. It makes your chest ache in a way you don’t entirely understand.

“So,” she says, breaking the silence, “our daughter asked Santa for a sister”

You exhale, shaking your head as you take a sip of wine. It’s red, something bold and expensive that Alexia brought home last week. She has a knack for choosing good wine, even though she always claims it’s pure luck. “She did”

“And she’s heartbroken Santa didn’t deliver,” Alexia adds, her tone half-amused, half-disbelieving.

“She is,” you say, setting your glass on the coffee table. The table itself is covered in the detritus of Christmas: an abandoned roll of wrapping paper, a pair of scissors, and the instructions for the dollhouse you spent three hours assembling on Christmas Eve while Alexia supervised with a glass of champagne in hand.

Alexia leans back, stretching her legs across your lap. Her socked feet are warm against your thigh, and she wiggles her toes absently as she looks at you. “What do you think?” she asks, her voice light, as if she’s testing the waters.

“About Eliana asking for a sister?”

“No,” she says, her lips twitching into a small smile. “About giving her one”

You laugh, a short, sharp sound that feels more defensive than amused. “You can’t be serious”

“Why not?”

“Why not?” you repeat, incredulous. “Because we barely survived the first time around. Do you not remember the colic? The sleepless nights? The time she screamed for three hours straight because she didn’t like the colour of her bib?”

Alexia tilts her head, as if genuinely considering your words. “She was a baby. That’s what babies do”

“Exactly. And you want to do it all over again?”

Her smile widens, and there’s a mischievous glint in her eyes now. “Maybe”

You groan, leaning your head back against the sofa. “You’re insane”

“I’m not,” she insists, nudging your thigh with her foot. “Think about it. Eliana’s older now. She’s more independent. She’s in school most of the day. We’re not in the trenches anymore”

“The trenches,” you mutter, reaching for your wine again.

Alexia shifts closer, her foot still resting against your thigh. “I loved it, you know. All of it. Even the hard parts”

“You loved it?”

“Yes,” she says firmly. “I loved being a mum to a newborn. Watching her grow, seeing all the little things she learned every day. It was… magical”

You glance at her, and the soft, wistful expression on her face makes something inside you twist.

“And you,” she continues, her voice lowering slightly, “you were amazing”

“Alexia,” you say, a hint of warning in your tone.

“I’m serious,” she says, her hand finding yours beneath the blanket. Her fingers are warm, her grip gentle but insistent. “You were. You still are. And when you were pregnant…”

You raise an eyebrow. “What?”

She grins, her teeth catching the light. “You were insatiable”

“Oh, for God’s sake”

“It’s true,” she says, laughing now. “I could barely keep up with you”

“You managed,” you mutter, taking another sip of wine.

Her laughter fades into a softer, more thoughtful smile. “I’m just saying,” she says, her thumb brushing over the back of your hand, “I wouldn’t mind doing it all over again”

You study her, trying to discern if she’s really serious or just testing the waters. But there’s something in her eyes, a quiet certainty that unnerves you.

“You really want another baby,” you say, not quite a question.

She nods. “I do”

“And when were you planning on telling me this?”

She shrugs, looking faintly sheepish. “I don’t know. I guess I was waiting for the right moment”

“Like now? After our daughter guilt-tripped us with her Santa request?”

Alexia laughs, and the sound is warm and infectious. “Exactly”

You shake your head, but a small smile tugs at your lips despite yourself. “You’re unbelievable”

“I’m practical,” she counters. “Think about it. We can afford it. We have the space. The time. A great support system. Mami would love to help us out again”

You raise an eyebrow. “You want to tell her we’re thinking about having another baby? You know she’ll start knitting booties the second the words leave your mouth”

Alexia shrugs, unbothered. “Let her. Eliana would love matching booties for her and her sibling”

The image of Eliana holding a tiny, wriggling baby flashes in your mind, unbidden. It’s too cute, too perfect, and you push it away before it can take root.

“It’s not just about logistics,” you say quietly.

“I know,” Alexia says, her voice softening. “But we’ve done this before. We know what to expect now. And we’re not the same people we were back then. We’re stronger. Better”

You glance at her, at the quiet confidence in her expression, and feel a pang of guilt for doubting her. She’s right, of course. You’ve come so far since those early days with Eliana. But still, the thought of starting over feels overwhelming.

“I don’t know,” you say finally. “It’s a lot to think about”

Alexia nods, her thumb still tracing slow circles on the back of your hand. “I’m not asking for a decision tonight. Just… think about it”

You nod, letting your head rest against her shoulder. The wineglass dangles from your fingers, forgotten. The weight of her hand on yours, the steady rise and fall of her breath, grounds you.

For a moment, the two of you sit in silence, the only sound the faint hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. Then Alexia speaks again, her voice so soft you almost don’t hear her.

“She’d be a great big sister,” she says. “Don’t you think?”

You close your eyes, letting the words settle over you. In your mind’s eye, you see Eliana again, her wide, hopeful eyes as she clutched Mr Snuggles to her chest. You see her laughing, running through the park with a smaller version of herself trailing behind her.

“Yeah,” you say quietly. “She would”

[tangents-within-tangents]

I myself am a refresh gremlin (and don't forget, stalking the bookmarks just in case someone hid some bonus comments in there lol). Something I started doing that kinda helps:

After I finish/post, I scroll to the bottom of the doc and write about the things that I am proud of. It's kinda like a post-writing reflection I guess. I list out my favorite parts and what I like about them; this idea I think I explored well, this creatively worded imagery, the emotions I pulled off in this scene, cool headcanons and characterization details, etc. Basically trying to give myself that validation so I'm not waiting for it to hopefully come from someone else, because I can still be proud of my writing even if no one else notices it. (It can also help me to accept what I do get. Bc even if you get a decent amount of comments, they likely won't mention everything you are proud of. But that shouldn't take away from the value of those things)

Doesn't totally solve the problem, but I like doing it. At the least it has helped me get a sense of closure with the piece.

I also try to remind myself that it's okay to want comments and stuff. It is genuinely rewarding and motivating as a writer, it's not selfish or insecure to want that or to be disappointed when you don't get it. There are multiple reasons for creating something that exist simultaneously, and sharing is a valid part of the process. You spent time on something and put work and heart into it, of course you want someone to read and appreciate it.

Posting on AO3 is like, I'm doing this for myself, but also immediately refreshing the page every 5 seconds to see if you get any hits comments or kudos. But totally only writing for me.

[essiemclaren]

watch me win

in which lando was paid to fake date y/n!

pairing: mean!lando x reader

tw: super mean/rude lando and ofc angst

day 2

lando's text with the bros

lando's text with the reader

Life is unpredictable, but for Lando Norris, there was always a backup plan. He didn’t need to waste time stressing over what could go wrong; his mind was always three steps ahead. Quick moves, sharp thinking—that’s how he kept control. So, when he asked her out for Saturday, it wasn’t because he liked her. Far from it. He didn’t even find her interesting enough to care. She wasn’t some elusive beauty that had him tongue-tied. No, Lando asked her out because he was helping a buddy out, someone too spineless to handle their own situation. She was a tool, a temporary convenience to get what he needed.

Right after their day 1 of meeting, Lando... Oh, Lando instantly knew the way she clung to every word he said, the desperate way she hung on to each fleeting moment of attention—Lando could practically see it. She was that type, the one who’d find validation in any scrap of it, always eager to be the center of someone’s universe. It wasn’t even a challenge; she was a walking cliché, all wide eyes and innocent smiles, pretending she was so much more than the attention-seeker she really was. And Lando? He was just playing along, a momentary distraction, a little fun to help out his friend.

Nothing personal.

She wasn’t anything special—just someone who’d fall for the smallest gestures, starved for a taste of something that made her feel wanted. Lando didn’t mind giving her that. He knew she'd eat it up, desperate for it, clinging to the idea that this meaningless gesture somehow meant something more.

And for day 2? Since he asked her out for Saturday, he’d get a brand new motorbike—a sleek, custom bike, the kind that screamed luxury and power. Because why not take advantage of the situation, turning a simple play into something even more valuable than her fleeting attention?

Saturday

lando's text with the reader

lando's text with the bros

lando's post on x/twitter

After the whole thing was over, Lando leaned back, a smirk tugging at his lips as he replayed the night in his head. Did he regret it? Not for a second. She missed her precious dinner party, but that wasn’t his problem. He couldn’t care less. Her disappointment was just a footnote in his evening, barely worth a second thought. What mattered was the new ride waiting for him—shiny, powerful, and all his. He’d played the game, entertained her for a bit, and now he had what he wanted.

He didn’t regret a thing. Not for a second.

--

a/n: Hey everyone! I’m sorry this chapter is shorter than usual – I’ve been super busy, but I hope you understand! I really enjoyed writing this part and I hope you did too. I hope you’re all having a wonderful holiday break! Please let me know what you think about this chapter – your feedback means a lot. Again, happy holidays, take care, and I’ll be back soon! xx

-essie the elf 🎄

taglist: @5sospenguinqueen @bluethperson @mayusaatma @mountvesuvu @styl1shl1v @hotgirlslikemax @creamsteam3 @kravitswhore @issi-loves-dynamic @llando4norris @sunlithearts @osclerc @hurtblossom @miiaex @somerandomf1fan @nataliambc @saachiep81 @ironmaiden1313 @s-awturn @c4tc0re @dannyleclerc @lexiecampos @loloekie @idontknowanythingsblog @grovelingmen @cchewhaz @linneaguriii

[ellecdc]

Love that you’ve opened requests for Finnick!

Would you write for finnick x reader established relationship? but Peeta and Katniss think it’s all for show (kind of how Finnick saw them originally)

during the 75th games overnight as the poison fog comes through reader gets swallowed up and they loose sight of her, but have to keep moving. Of course they loose Mags, and maybe the canon goes off (for another tribute) and finnick is tangibly heartbroken thinking it’s her.

The next day she wanders onto the beach with Johanna and the rest, having survived by hiding in the waterways.

Lovely happy ending lovers reunion moment💘

thanks for your request! I've had this more or less done for a few days but I'm not sure how I feel about it...hopefully I did an okay job, but I figured I might as well post it. thanks to @unstablereader for parsing this out with me <3

Finnick Odair x victor!reader during the 75th Hunger Games [1.4k words]

CW: fem!reader, blood rain, mention of death, reader goes into a bit of shock, Finnick handles it expertly, Johanna being the problematic queen that she is

Finnick tried really hard not to act as petulant as he felt, but between his stress, his grief, and the fucking heat, he was sure he was failing in his feat. 

“She’s probably fine, yeah?” Peeta (stupidly) tried, shooting a nervous glance between Finnick who was brooding near the water's edge and Katniss who was pouting near the tree line. “She won her own games; she can hold her own.” 

“I just don’t understand what the point of having a look-out was if you were going to lose an entire woman.” Finnick finally shouts then, holding his hands out in front of him helplessly. 

“The point of a look-out was to look out for threats, not babysit your girlfriend.” Katniss all but sneered in return.

“Oh? And what exactly do you call what I’ve been doing for you and your husband these past few days then, hm?” 

“I don’t need nor did I ask to be babysat!” 

“Well, someone smarter than you begged to differ, yeah? I’m inclined to agree.” Finnick spat before making to stand. 

“...nanny of the year award after this…”  Finnick muttered to himself as he stalked back up to the tree line to get another drink of water. He’d been sick with worry after hearing a second canon after they lost Mags in the fog, and there’d been no signs of you since. He thought he might actually call the whole plan off if your face lit up the sky tonight.

The sound of trees rustling and a grunt had all three tributes standing at the ready with their weapons drawn, watching the tree line and waiting for the cause of the noise to show itself. 

“Oh Johanna…” the unmistakable sound of your (rather disappointed) voice rang out. “Be nice to her.” 

Johanna let out a frustrated shriek as they watched her appear from the trees and all but shove what looked to be Wiress towards the water. 

“Yes! Yes! We all know, Nuts! Tick tock, tick tock. Get to the water!” 

“Johanna!” You barked.

Finnick’s lips formed your name before he was rushing across the beach to you; barely sparing a moment to look you over before his trident was dropped into the sand, freeing his arms to loop around your middle and lift you into the air. 

“Fucking finally,” Johanna sighed in obvious relief as she finally pushed Wiress into the saltwater, “someone with a vocabulary of more than four words.”

“Beetee and I have a vocabulary of more than five words…” You replied, though your argument was someone lost in Finnick’s chest where he had your face shielded. 

“Unless you plan on offing her, Odair, you might want to let your girlfriend breathe.” Johanna called.

“Babe what the fuck?” He hissed as he pulled you away from him, only then registering the fact that you were covered head to toe in…blood? “What the fuck!?”

“Before you get mad; it’s not my blood, and look who I found!” You placated quickly, gesturing to the three tributes you’d shown up with.

“What were you thinking, Y/N!?” He asked you then, shaking you gently by the shoulders. “What happened!?”

“I’m sorry!” You nearly keened, looking very contrite. “I was just so thirsty and so I figured while everyone slept I’d go look for water. I heard what sounded like rain so I went running, and the next thing I knew I couldn’t see a damn thing!”

“She didn’t so much as find us as she actually slammed directly into Nuts over here.” Johanna translated for Finnick. 

“Sorry Wiress.” You offered the woman sheepishly who simply waved as she continued her little clock song in turn.

“What happened to all of you?” Peeta asked then, suddenly directly behind Finnick and alerting him to the fact that all of you were covered in the crimson mess.

“What happened, Mellark,” Johanna hissed as she made to stalk over, completely ignoring the way Katniss’ bow was locked and loaded and pointing at her in the very next second, “was that your darling wife wanted Nuts and Bolts over here, so what did I do? I got her Nuts and Bolts! Then this one had the brilliant idea of wandering off when she was supposed to be with you idiots, and the three of you - fearsome victors that you are - let her! And where’s my thanks, huh? Who’s running through the sand to come find me?”

Finnick had the decency to offer her a guilty look, but she offered him an unimpressed smirk and fluttered her eyes in a half eye roll before she turned her glare back towards District Twelve’s lovebirds. 

“Couldn’t even celebrate the rain and finally having access to water because it was fucking blood!” She continued, now directing her ire to the sky.

“It rained blood?” Peeta murmured quietly then.

“So much blood...” You answered solemnly; hair cracking when you nodded due to the semi-dried substance coating it as you stared unseeingly at the trees with a haunted expression on your face. 

“Let’s get you washed off then, hm?” Finnick asked as he directed you towards the waters edge, though he kept Johanna’s eye contact as he said it. 

“Oh, I’m sure you’re just dying to see what I look like underneath all of this, Odair.” 

“Nothing we haven’t already seen, right Peeta?” Finnick tried for levity as he shot the kid a wink, only for Katniss to scowl and elbow him in the ribs. 

Finnick didn’t miss the way you shivered as you got into the water which concerned him seeing as the water was hardly cool enough to be of any relief in this scorching heat. 

“Peeta! Can you bring us water, please?”

“You guys have water!?” Johanna screeched.

“Katniss, can you bring some water to Johanna?” Finnick heard Peeta ask, earning him a petulant “do I have to?” in return.

“She brought you Wiress and Beetee.” Peeta countered, causing his girlfriend - wife? - to glower before doing what she was asked. 

“You doing okay, lovely girl?” Finnick asked as he massaged some of the dried blood from your body, keeping his voice calm even though your sluggish movements and the lack of colour in your lips was causing him great concern. 

“I’m kind of cold, Finn.” You slurred. 

“Cold?” Peeta asked incredulously as he showed up with one of Mags’ woven baskets filled with water.

Finnick hummed in response as he accepted the water from him, holding it up to your lips as he helped you take a drink. “I think she might be in shock.” He explained evenly. 

“She’s in shock? What do we do?” He started, words speeding up as he directed his concern at you.

“Well, we’re going to start with not doing that.” Finnick muttered in reference to his quickly mounting panic. “She’s alright, right honey?”

You hummed in agreement, though you were looking at Finnick with a furrow in your brows. 

“You’re alright.” He repeated, both for your benefit and his own. “I’ve got you now, yeah? We’re okay when we’re together.”

Tears quickly pooled in your eyes before they escaped the corners of your eyes, painting a rather macabre picture through the blood still stuck to your face. 

“M’sorry, Finn.” 

“Don’t be sorry, Y/N.” Finnick murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Just stay with me, okay? No more wandering off; I need you here with me.”

“I’m here.” You murmured, arm rising slowly to trail a finger over the bridge of his nose. “I’m here.” 

“Told you it was real.” Peeta muttered to Katniss then, an inelegant snort from Johanna startling both of them when they realized she was out of the water and standing at their side. 

“The two of you really are dumber than you look.” She taunted.

“I’ll take the first watch.” Finnick shouted before any infighting could start, shooting Katniss a halfhearted glare. “Everybody else rest up.” 

“Can I stay up with you, Finnick?” You murmured, still looking rather dazed as you half floated in the salty water in Finnick’s arms. 

You’d probably be the first to fall asleep, but Finnick didn’t bother telling you that. He simply agreed, pressing another kiss to your head before he continued washing you off.

[matheoxs]

[THIS IS GONNA BE HARSH

No way you're not assuming things in your favor and expecting your desires please, make it make sense.

I'm going to speak for all bloggers because I know some of them are tired and scared to say it. But don't come to me asking how to manifest, for the love of fucking God, READ READ FUCKING READ.

No way we are going to 2025 and your ass still asking how to manifest this and that.

Assume and let it BE, that's it. What do you want me to tell you? Jump five times and roll or something? There's literally nothing else to do.

Not only that, but those anonymous asking if the Law of assumption is real? Like, until this day, bro, get a fucking grip. Jesus Christ.

You're going post by post trying to find something that will click for you and not even applying it. You're wasting your time. I'm not saying you can't read posts or whatever, but if you're not applying it, then you're wasting your time.

It's annoying, yes it is. When are you going to decide enough is enough? Because me and other bloggers can make posts every single day, but at the end of the day, it's you. It's literally you. It's your choice.

Enough is enough.

we are literally going to 2025, enough is enough. Stop with the bullshit. You know why you don't have your desires right now, you know it, and I don't have to tell you.

Someone can spread a rumor about somebody without proof, and you will believe it.

There have been many times in your life where you assume things without proof. Yes, there have, and you probably don't even remember, and it manifested itself in the 3D.

Why are you waiting for the blogger to come back? Are they your God? Stop the glaze, please. It's getting too far to the point where you see those bloggers bigger than you.

They manifested a big house, so can you?? They're not special, I promise you.

They manifested appearance change, so can you. They manifested being able to shift every time they want, so can you.

You can talk to those bloggers in real life, and you will realize they're just regular people. They're not that special, I'm not that special.

It's really not that serious.

Because of the likes they get on their posts, it makes you think that they're bigger. They're just numbers. Knock it out.

Now, let me get real with y'all. There's no such thing as unrealistic or big desires. You're the one labeling it as unrealistic or big desires.

Do you really think that the 3D says something like, "oh no, I can't reflect that, it's too unrealistic and big"?

Do you really think that the 3D looks at your desires and says that? Think about it for a sec. Now, YOU tell me, do you really think that the 3D thinks that?

Or is it just you labeling them as big and unrealistic? You see how you're always the one who assumes things???

I KNOW, SURPRISINGLY RIGHT? Well, it shouldn't be a surprise to you. You should already know that.

I don’t want ANY ANON coming in my asks asking me dumb ass fucking questions when you can just get your ass to read and try to actually understand

It’s actually really easy to understand if I’m being fr

There’s many bloggers who literally breaks it down in the most EASIEST WAY to understand

So stop with the excuses.

Stop trying to look for motivation especially shifters Omds

Im gonna write another post on this im not done yet call me mean wtv idc it had to be said loa bloggers ARE TIREDD

And I also think that’s why the loa community is kinda dying.

[sugary-daydreams3]

Quiet inbetween [Sukuna x Reader]

Summary: Collections of quiet, cozy, intimate moments you share with Sukuna, who thinks you two won't last a year. Someone who used to live a wild, fast-paced, loud lifestyle couldn't possibly be fit for a long-term relationship. But he doesn't know that you're the one he needed this whole time.

Word Count: 3.7K words

Rating: Mostly fluff with a little spice (sexual content) at the end, but no full explicit content. Mostly T with a little M.

A/N: Happy holidays y'all. This might be my last fic posted in the year so I hope you guys transition into the new year safely. Goodness, do I love writing my A.U. version of Sukuna. So fun and flirty that he makes me blush sometimes and I control what he says. But I guess that's a good thing, right. Sadly my next fic is dealing with a not so fun topic, haha. (It's Gojo-centric, so you might know where I'm going with this) Anyways, stay safe out there and I'll see you again in 2025. Enough yapping from me, enjoy!

Normal, quiet moments tend to bring discomfort within Sukuna. Dating trouble as a teen limited his time to sit and enjoy the small pleasures of life. He was all about the grand, overwhelming, taboo pleasures that one wouldn’t dare chase but rather daydream about. Or worse, make simulation games about and live out their guilty pleasures vicariously through fictional characters. But with taboo pleasures come consequences which landed him in jail for some time.  

Within the year after his release, he met you which slowly inspired him to alter his fast, vicious lifestyle. You introduced him to things he never would have found himself participating in. Things he used to tease his twin brother for being a sheep for society for. A mom-and-pop coffee shop was one of them.  

“How do you drink this shit?” Sukuna sticks out his tongue. Tanned liquid trapped in your mouth almost spills. Air blows from your nose, signifying your amusement at Sukuna’s first experience with coffee.  

Swallowing down the first sip of your coffee, your eyes admire Sukuna’s childlike distaste for your go-to morning beverage. “Because I order mine with cream, sugar, and caramel. You’re pretty much drinking burnt black water.”  

“Why didn’t you tell me that before?”   

You give him a “really?” look. “I said you should start out with the caramel Frappuccino but you said, and I quote.” You notch your voice down several pitches lower. “The hell I look like drinking that sissy shit.”  

“You could have recommended me any other drink but this. This was a terrible first impression.”  

“I can order you another one to make up for it.”  

Sukuna pouts. “I’ll pass. I fear I’ll be disappointed again.”  

“Sukuna, you just drink straight black coffee, you can’t write the whole thing off just because you had one variation of it. That’s like saying “I hate potatoes” because you ate unsalted, lukewarm fries.” Sukuna scrunches his face.  

“That’s not the same.”  

“Yes, it is. It’s a perfect comparison.”  

“It’s two completely different scenarios. You really thought you schooled me with that, huh.”  

“Shut up. I’m ordering you a new drink.”  

Waiting for his redemption cup, Sukuna stares at you typing away on your laptop computer. Your hair curtains over part of your face, tempting Sukuna to reach over and fix it. Yet the messy hair curtain highlights your beauty so effortlessly, he couldn’t stop adoring your natural radiance.  

The strong smell of roast occasionally makes its mark. Ranges of chatter mingle with the loud cycle of brewing and baking. Quirky, cheesy posters hang all over, providing a drowning sense of positivity and relatability. Generic chill music slithers through the atmosphere, failing to chill Sukuna’s social anxiety. Thankfully, his new drink just came to save the moment.  

Taking a drink from the flat white laced with sugar and cream, he sits back to allow his brain to register. His eyebrows raise with a small smack of his mouth, giving you some hope that coffee redeemed itself on the oh so great Sukuna’s tastebuds.   

“Well?” You ask impatiently.  

“Not bad. Could use more sugar but it’s drinkable.” Sukuna reviews. A pleased smile killed your worry. “I’m glad you gave it a second chance. I hope we can have more coffee dates like this.”  

Sukuna narrows his eyes. “This is a date?”   

Your eyes roll. “No this is a job interview.”  

“I’m not one for customer service but if I get to look at you all day long and the pay is good then sign me up.” You hate that something as corny as that made you blush.  

“Hush Sukuna, of course this is a date. This is like our twelfth time seeing each other, I like to think all of the time we spent together so far wasn't a waste of time.”  

“Ooh someone’s no-nonsense.” Sukuna smirks, large arms crossed.  

You sigh, “I’m just over the hookups and the flings. Honestly, I’m surprised you didn’t just one-and-done me.”  

“Eh, all of the one-night conquests and strictly sex ordeals were starting to get stale. You got a nice face with a body to match. You’re on no bullshit and are fun for the most part. You haven't bored me yet so I don’t mind continuing this.”  

“Yet?”  

“I tend to get bored with my women so I wouldn't hold hope of this lasting past a year. Just letting you know so the heartbreak will hurt a little less.”  

You smirk, amused by his lack of filter. “Well, a year will be record breaking compared to my recent relationships these last few years. So bring it.”  

Your polished nails navigate the grassy fields of dusty pink, natural hair oil inked on your fingertips. Your poor thighs are weighed down under his dumbbells for arms. Your other hand caress Sukuna’s right bicep, fixating on the jet black tattoos contrasting with his pale skin. He rubs your left knee as he rests against your stomach.  

Sukuna releases a deep sigh, letting go of the temporary stresses of life. He’ll rather die than admit it but this is what he mostly looks forward to when he goes about his day. It took him a while to get used to you being positioned behind him, often side eyeing the first few times you two were like this.   

Call it trust issues. Slam the non-medical diagnosis of PTSD resulted from a rough upbringing and life as a criminal. Or if we’re really getting psychological, throw out the fancy “internalized misanthropy” word. Re-fucking-gardless, he’s always been highly aware and on guard whenever people are in close proximity to him, ever since he was a kid.  

Now, the more he allows himself to turn his brain off in your lap the easier you hear him lightly snoring within several minutes. You giggle as his resting figure emits loud snores thirty minutes in of scalp scratching and head caressing.   

“Sweet dreams.” You reach down to peck warmth on his forehead.  

Your wishes go unnoticed as child-like ease warps itself across face tattoos and a sharp jawline. A surprisingly dynamic clash.  

Your laughter saturates the kitchen space accompanied by music from the vintage radio. Flour dressed your behemoth all over, making it the sight of the century. Sukuna frowns as he attempts to smooth the pizza dough with the rolling pin. Tears edge your eyes; the catastrophe he was causing was funnier than any standup comedy.  

“Hush. You're breaking my focus.” Sukuna was struggling to knead the dough enough to be a thin foundation. It usually ends up shaping to be a deep dish or just a regular sized pizza. This was his third effort to mold the pizza, with two “epic failures” baking in the oven.  

When your laughter demoted to light chuckles, you rub his arm for support. “You know I can help you shape the dough. It took me fifteen tries before making an objectively decent pizza.” Sukuna shakes his head.  

“That’s because you were the one making it. It’s gonna be perfect this time.” Sukuna smooths out the dough and smirks at his “perfectly” thin pizza. You roll your eyes and walk over to gather the cheese and other toppings.  

The pizza rises within the oven, gluing the toppings within the cheese. Sukuna watches it carefully from the kitchen island, like his life depended on whether this Thursday night dinner was great or not.   

A marathon of T.V. commercial ramblings was bugging background noise as you tidied up. The other two pizzas sat on the cooling rack, being forgotten tasty mistakes. Flour ages his hair many decades, snowing down his chest with every tiny movement. He turns to see an unlikely troublemaker look down at him, a small hill of flour ready to be thrown from your palm. Sukuna narrows his eyes with a challenging look.  

“You’re playing a dangerous game, darling.”  

“Game on.” You threw it, igniting a two-man war.  

The remaining time for the perfect pizza to cook filled with flour fights, spotting majority of the kitchen with white powder. The cooking timer goes off as you two lay across the table exchanging flour and zeal between prolonged smooches.

This epic fantasy was seducing your imagination during the mundane hours of the late evening. You sense Sukuna spying on you and your book from the corner of your eye. However, the clever arrangement of words trailing above your bookmark helps you ignore him.  

“How do you read these things? That shit looks bigger than The Bible.” Sukuna pokes at the spine of your novel, trailing over the gold-engrained lettering.  

“I don’t judge stories based on length. If it’s engaging enough then I wouldn’t mind reading three hundred-plus pages of something.”  

“Where do you find the time to invest in a story that long?” Sukuna wasn’t even teasing at this point; he was genuinely curious.  

“People watch 10 seasons worth of television or animes with more than 100 episodes.”  

“Watching TV and reading are different no matter how much you try to make them feel the same. I can simply turn on the T.V. and watch 100 episodes of something without exerting much energy. You have to sit up, read so many words, and decipher hundreds of pages worth of story. It’s not the same.”  

“True, I’ll give you that. I just find it funny that people draw the line at consuming a story through reading only because you have to put a little more effort in it.” You bounced back.  

Sukuna rubbed his chin. “I remember being into poetry and haikus a lot as a teenager. But I started getting involved in other shit so I lost interest along the way.”   

You snap to him, no longer being a silent witness to a passionate kissing scene. “You like poetry?”  

“I suppose. I always liked how poets managed to craft thoughts so elegantly. Perfectly describing the complicated or unsaid.”  

“You know the local bookstore down the street has a whole section of poetry books. What’s your favorite poets? I could buy you some of their latest work.” Your comforter became a temporary bookmark with your book lying face down.  

“Hmm, I don’t really have a favorite poet. I used to buy a bunch of random poetry or haiku books and kept the ones that stuck with me. There is one writer that I really like though...”  

You wait in anticipation as you witness him in thought. Simple things like racking his brain makes him a cutie. Sukuna snaps his fingers.  

“Ahh, Yosa Takahama is his name. His work is usually written in Japanese but some translators re-publish them in their mother’s tongue. His work is hard to find around here though. I don’t even know how I managed to snag one of his books in the first place.”  

Despite the challenge, you were determined to get it for him. “I’ll figure out a way to get you one. That way we could be reading buddies.”  

“You don’t have to do all of that, doll. You’ll rip your hair out trying to find those books. I’m fine watching you ignore me in favor of a book that can knock your teeth out.” You chuckle.  

During the rest of the night, you noticed the boredom on Sukuna’s face as he mindlessly consumes television. The least you can do is try to hunt down this haiku book for him. Dating him for some time, he confessed to losing touch with so many hobbies he grew up with over the last few years. You wanted to bring that inner child back to life, killed by proving to the world how tough he was.  

Getting him to read something that actually interests him can be another way to embrace the innocent pleasures in life. You can tell he misses that wild delinquency some days, but you hope he doesn’t miss it enough to end this relationship over. If you can find it, hopefully it can be a building block that rebuilds his new path after leaving the old behind. Anything to help you be closer to him.  

6 weeks later 

Sukuna emerges from the bathroom. The odors of the food he cooked from his restaurant today were replaced with standard soap and his natural scent. Like every other night, you sat with your book, seemingly ignoring Sukuna’s lingering stare.  

After dressing himself, he sinks on the mattress and attempts to lay against his pillow. His thick neck isn't met with the soft cushion but instead a hard surface in the middle area. He stares at his pillow, offended for it not providing comfort, so he lifts it up. A white hardcover book reveals.  

“What’s this?” He asked, not turning to you yet. You shift from the words to your boyfriend’s confusion. “I don’t know where that came from. Maybe the book fairy paid you a visit.” You played dumb.  

“You’re so corny.” He holds up the book.  

“A corny girl you’ve been dating for almost a year now.”  

“Quiet. I’m trying to see what this is.” Sukuna didn’t even examine the title, the pages of the book flutter until he lands on a random page. He reads aloud.  

“Vindictive winter / A white, mighty rabbit looks / betrayed by the king / ...wait.” Sukuna looks at you and you copy his shocked expression.  

“This is Yosa Takahama’s stuff. How did you even get this? This must have cost you a fortune.”  

“It was costly and took me weeks to find a readable copy but the look on your face right now makes it worth it. I wanted you to read with me instead of being a T.V. zombie. Even if that means reading mind fuckery haikus.” You chuckle.  

Sukuna grabs your waist from the side and unleashes many wet pecks around your cheek, neck, and upper chest. You giggle as you brush his hair and hug him back.  

“I appreciate it.”  

“No big deal.” You replicate his cool cat version of “You’re welcome.” that he usually throws at you. Sukuna smirks at the playful imitation.  

The rest of the evening is spent with you two lost in your own worlds of literature. Your brains mixed imagination, broadened perspectives, and emotional intelligence from honeyed words inked against the white.

“I’m too big for this tub. You barely have any room to stretch your legs.” Sukuna commented.  

He adjusted his position behind you, the bubbles shifting from his large body. Your feet rested on the tip of the tub to keep from smushing against the porcelain. You turn to him, offering a reassuring smile. He snickers at your ridiculous face mask, particularly the cucumbers concealing your eyes.  

“No, you’re not. You say that every time you get in with me. You’re fine Kuna, really.”  

Sukuna rests his arms around the top edges of the tub, leaning back to make himself comfortable in his slightly cramped soak. The warm water, Epsom salt, and meditation music playing from your phone kneads away the hidden tension that plagues his body from the everyday.  

“Before I met you, I haven't taken a bath in almost fifteen years.” He confesses.  

“That sounds so disgusting out of context.” You cringe. Sukuna chuckles.   

“You know what I mean.”  

“I can’t imagine going that long without a bath. Baths are way better than showers.” You admitted.  

“Showers are for a quick wash. Baths are more for relaxation.”  

“I shower for fifteen minutes minimum, thirty-five minutes max. I spend about three minutes just letting the hot water hit my body and think about whatever. There’s no way I can just shower for ten minutes or less.”  

“Is that why you’re so smoking.” Sukuna flirted. You shake your head, “That was so corny, Kuna. C’mon you can flirt better than that.”  

“You’re right. I just wanted to see your reaction.”   

You two enjoy each other’s company. The heat protects you from winter and the sheet of bubbles float around and pop within. Sukuna arms lay over yours, rubbing over your wrist. Sukuna focuses on your face and develops a sense of mischief.  

“Babydoll.”  

“Yeah?”  

“Turn around for me.”  

You quirk a brow but obeyed by slowly turning his way. In a swift motion, Sukuna moves forward and bites off the cucumber sitting on your right eye. Your right vision sees Sukuna munching on your edible eye mask.  

“Really, Kuna? You couldn’t resist temptation to eat that?” You scolded. You take off the other cucumber, abandoning your hopes to keep your eyelids nice and fresh. Sukuna steals the other cucumber from your hand and flings it in his mouth.  

“You’re impossible to relax with sometimes.”  

“Thanks for the snack.” Sukuna mumbles through chewing.  

You sigh then lay against his chest and close your eyes. If he was going to interrupt your beauty routine the least he can do is be your pillow.

Sukuna big toe hugs your own after caressing your right foot. Both of your feet poke out from the thick blanket, suffering from the gentle lashes of the nippy air condition. You rest your head on his squishy but firm chest, goosebumps forming from his rough hands brushing your skin.   

“We should light the fireplace.” You suggested.  

Sukuna let out a lazy sigh, “What you really mean is that I should light it.”  

“Yeah, you should.”  

“I could but I fear I’ll turn into a popsicle.”  

You giggle. “Hey, at least you’ll taste good.”  

Sukuna smirks, “I already taste good. You should know out of anyone.”  

You playfully shrug. “Eh, you’re alright. No fine dining though.”  

“Oh really?”  

“Yep.”  

“How about you taste this then.”  

Sukuna leans down and traps your lips in the moment. His lips were smaller than yours yet they managed to govern the heat stirring between each lingering kiss. The frigid air in the room is forgotten in your minds as you and Sukuna make out under the grey blanket. After a couple minutes of sensual touching and lip pulls, Sukuna goes for your neck.  

“Well?” Sukuna lands soft bites inches under your chin.  

“I was just kidding earlier but that was...”  

“Better than fine dining?”  

“I don’t know what’s better than fine dining but, yeah, better than that.”  

Sukuna chuckles, “Glad to remind you.”  

Sukuna “accidentally” lands a hard bite just above your collarbone, caging a pleasured groan within closed lips. Sukuna kisses the forming red patch, “Sorry baby, got a little greedy there.”  

“I hope I give you a brain freeze.” You joked, trying to take your mind off the aching spot.  

Sukuna hooks his finger around the side of your silk underwear, his other hand slowly appreciates your ass. “I’m sure it’ll be worth it.”

Your body slowly rocks on top of him, the yellow and orange from the fireplace illuminate your dips and curves. The aftershocks of your second orgasm calm down, giving you the signal to stop riding him. One hand caresses the trimmed hairs sprinkled across Sukuna’s chest. The other traces the small gold chain decorating his pecs. Sukuna squeezes the body fat from your hips then pats your left butt cheek.  

You hop off and lay down on the blanket you set down for your second round. Sukuna pulls off the condom and gets up to throw it away. The contained fire warms your naked body from a distance, defending you from the army of white cold. You hum while the fire entertains you until Sukuna comes back. He’s wearing the boxers he had on earlier with the embroidered knife patterns. Where he got those kinds of boxers you may never know.  

Sukuna drops the pillow he stole from the couch then sits down on the blanket. He pulls you towards him and you two lie down together. You perform his signature trait, pushing his hair back, enabling his wild look. Sukuna traces your spine, quietly admiring both how strong and weak one’s bone structure could be.  

“I never thought I would enjoy silly things like sitting in front of a fireplace during winter.”  

“It’s silly?”  

“Not really. I guess I just associated this with Christmas activities. Christmas always seemed too cheesy to me so I associated things like this as silly holiday stuff.”  

“Yeah, I get it. Sex in front of the fireplace, just silly wholesome Christmas activities.” You joked. You instantly felt Sukuna’s laughter rumble throughout his chest. After calming down he gives your arm a light pinch.  

“You know what I mean.”  

“I’m just happy you allowed me to bring some mellow in your life. I remember when I met you, you were always in some crazy illegal trouble. It seemed like I could barely keep up with you and your fast-paced lifestyle.”  

“Yeah, it was fun for a while, I’ll admit. Even getting caught had some sort of thrill. Now that I’m pushing thirty, I just feel over it.”  

You chuckle, “Not a spring chicken as you used to be.”  

“Yeah. I suppose every hot shot has their limit.”  

“Well, I’m proud that you’re beginning to settle down. I know your brother is too.” You rub his cheek.  

“I was surprised when he offered to help me set up my fight clubhouse. He’s usually against violence and shit.”  

“Maybe he thought that it would be a nice distraction from your life with crime. Even if it meant supporting you doing something he also doesn’t like. Like a lesser of two evils kind of thing.”  

“I never knew someone so predictable yet unpredictable at the same time more than him.” Sukuna said. You giggle then sprawl your hands across Sukuna’s abdomen, trailing over the ridges in a playful matter. Sukuna tender gaze studies your features as he softly pulls little cushions of your skin.  

“Thank you for sticking with me.”  

You look up to see the wild orange shadowing his strong features. His usual too cool-for-school attitude was replaced with a loving nature only reserved for you. A nature molded by small, seemingly insignificant moments sparked by a mutual agreement of casual dating. You plant a few kisses against his jawline then lay back on his chest.  

Before your eyes close for the night, you slur a few words that gets a smile out of Sukuna. “Guess you’re stuck with me now.”  

[jiinxswife]

Jinx x fem!reader relationship headcanons

Ahhh, today’s post came out late because tumblr sucks and it didn’t post the writing, making me loose it all and have to write it all over again >:(

Complain to it

Warnings: SFW headcanons, spoilers season 2

•you don’t catch her eyes, she’s too busy dealing with life to even think about a relationship, she catch yours

•it’s hard to approach her, really hard, principally after she becomes q Zaun hero. Everyone wants to hurt her, everyone wants to manipulate her, no one knows how she truly is, at least, that’s what she thinks

•has a hard time trusting you on the start, what would a stranger that she had never seen before want with her other then maybe status, money or the reward for her head?

•when you finally manages to approach her, just enough for her to let you spend some time with her, you two grow close rather fast. She’s touch starved, has no one to talk with, no one to share her ideas other then the voices of her old family, so she tells you about everything

•you probably are the one to ask for a relationship, she would never allow herself to get that vulnerable, and she says yes, even if she’s a bit confused about what she feels about you (don’t worry, soon she realizes that you’re the woman of her life and that she loves you)

•loves public display of affection, is there any better manner then to show to the whole Zaun that you genuinely love her? That she found someone that can love her as she is? Without trying to change her, without seeing her as Powder, but Jinx. If you start it by yourself or immediately contributes with her affection, she will get even happier

•as Said before, she loves public displays of affection, and as much as she loves your physical touch, she struggles to take it well sometimes, she will tense up and yelp when you start the affection stuff, blame that on her whole life, she would only get affection from dying people (silco COUGH COUGH) and when being manipulated (ALSO SILCO COUGH COUGH)

•will zone out sometimes, you will be cuddling her, dancing with her, whatever, and she will just stare at you, a frown forming on her face, her eyes expressionless, muscles tense, just waiting for you to hurt her. With time, these episodes become less

•isn’t vocal about her affection, she will never say “I love you”, not when you ask her out or even on your first time sleeping together, the closets you get of these three words are small, almost hidden “ily” ‘s written on gifts that she makes you

•talking about gifts, she shows how much she loves you by giving you gifts, so expect to have a room full of grenades and pistols that she made herself!

•will definitely ask you do to her nails, even if you suck at it, she just wants to feel your warmth

•follows you around when you leave, principally when the voices are louder, telling her that someone can hurt you, that someone can steal you, kill you. She makes sure you never know it though, she follows you from shadows

•please, wash her hair for her, it makes her feel so loved and cared for like she never was as a child

•if you like to whisper sweet things for her when she’s asleep and she finds out, she will definitely pretend to be asleep just to listen to you

Now, since im evil, let’s finish this with something sad. >:3

•expect her to either become sightly paranoid, defensive and somewhat even possessive once Isha dies or try to leave you completely, not wanting you to have the same destiny as everyone she ever loved.

•silco died, isha died, everyone she ever loved did, she will try her best to leave you, to protect you from her

[zevrra]

could u write a jayce x female or gn reader fic or blurb where the reader has major baby fever or just wants a child in general? I feel like Jayce would make such a good girl dad. idk..this request is pretty stupid but i’ve just been craving Jayce as a dad.

I LUV UR WRITING BTW!! PLS NEVER STOP POSTING! 🤍

a/n: AAAAH this was such a cute idea i couldn’t resist KSHDKH. jayce 100% is a girl dad, you can’t change my mind and i also like to think he’d want a HUGE family too. 😭 thank you so much for the request and im sorry it’s a lil shorter but i hope it makes you giggle and kick your feet at the thought of dad!jayce bc i did KSHSKH i love jayce so much omg

jayce is definitely someone who wants to have a giant family one day. wants to have as many kids, in anyway possible, as his partner will let him. he’d be so sweet talking about how one day he hopes he can show off his kids and give them everything they could ever dream about. his heart is so big and it’s just so cute.

the two of you had been together for a very long time and seeing every child recently made you yearn for your own. so when you mention over dinner one day, wanting to start a family; he’s ecstatic. he’s so happy, staring at you with wide eyes as his face lights up with that stupidly charming smile of his.

“are you serious?” he asks; as if this might be a dream and that you’re lying to him.

“no jayce, i said it just to tease you.” you respond sarcastically. laughing with a shake of your head. you manage a shy glance in his direction as your fingers play with the utensils on the table. “i’ve just been thinking about it recently. seeing all the cute babies around the city during the holidays is just making me…want to start a family.” you add with a smile towards your lover.

who still sits and stares at you with wide eyes. his mouth slightly agape, fangs flashing as his lips curl up in a warm smile. he reaches across the table to grab your hand, his pretty hazel eyes full of love as he brings your hand up to his lips; placing a gentle kiss against your knuckles.

“it’s your call, my love but i would be honored to start a family with you.” jayce hums sweetly. he plants another kiss against your knuckles before his thumb rubs across the top of your hand, soothingly touching you as he practically looks like he’s on the verge of tears. as if he’s waited for this moment for forever.

always so dramatic and you loved him for it.

“i think you’d make a great dad.” you state in a matter of fact tone, giving his hand a gentle squeeze back.

and truly, jayce would in fact make the best dad. you didn’t have to say it out loud to know it was true either; since he was already the perfect partner. you could easily imagine him with a little girl, protecting her from any harm, playing dress up, pretending to drink tea when he’s offered a plastic cup. he’s so sweet and deserves everything good in the world and you wanted nothing more than to start that next chapter in his and your own life.

[justgiulia]

HIII I HAD A THOIGHT THAT HAS BEEN KILLING MY MIND AND I NEED TO TELL IT TO SOMEONE OTHERWISE IM GNA EXPLODE

get this . everyone chilling at ramshackle dorm doing their own thing, yuu (and grimm by extension), ace and deuce sitting by the table talking about whatever crosses their mind

Eventually the conversation escalates to birthdays and holidays and ace asks how old Yuu is. Azul interjects with saying Yuu's age from the contract they signed a few months ago, but then Yuu pipes up and tells them that they're one year older than that.

Theres a small moment of confusion until it dawns onto Deuce that Yuy's birthday was a month or two ago and they never spoke a peep about it. Not even to grimm!! And when asked, Yuy makes an excuse like "that was when __ was kind of close to overblotting and I didn't want to make it about me because that'd be so nitpicky—"

It was based off an audio i heard and idk if i want to write it into a short drabble for myself i probably cant since im only on book 2 ueue). But like. its a fun prompt methinks. what would all of them do when they find out Yuu deliberately didn't say a thing about their birthday

🎊

You didn't tell them about your birthday?!

characters: Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, Azul Ashengrotto, Grimm.

author's note: let's just pretend I didn't just post a request from almost 2 years ago 😭 I'm deeply sorry. also, I apologize for not uploading anything this month but I'm working on something big 🙏

warnings: none

Ace Trappola

For his Immediate Reaction, he is offended in the most dramatic way possible. He gasps like you’ve committed the ultimate betrayal.

Once he processes that you skipped celebrating because of an overblot situation, Ace feels a bit guilty. He won’t outright admit it, but his teasing becomes a little softer as a result.

He insists on throwing you an over-the-top, borderline ridiculous party.

“I’m talking about party hats for everyone and cake so big Grimm can’t finish it—well, maybe.”

His idea of a celebration is half a joke, but you know he’s secretly serious about making it memorable and deep down, he’s touched by how considerate you were and wants to make sure you never feel overlooked again.

Deuce Spade

Deuce is visibly upset, almost like he’s the one who forgot your birthday, feeling terrible for not realizing sooner.

“But Prefect, birthdays are important! You deserve to be celebrated!”

He gets way too worked up about making it up to you, like it’s a mission, he might also wonder if he’s a bad friend for not noticing your birthday had passed. He’ll pay more attention to your subtle hints in the future (even if you weren’t giving any).

"I won’t let this happen again. Next time, we’ll do something amazing. I swear.”

You swear his sincerity makes you feel just as guilty for not telling him.

Azul Ashengrotto

Acts unbothered on the surface but lowkey blames himself for not catching on sooner, especially since he prides himself on knowing useful details about everyone (and blackmailing them).

Azul will subtly try to make it up to you in his own way. Maybe he gives you a small but meaningful gift with a nonchalant...

“Consider this a late birthday present.”

He might tease you about this later saying something like...

“Oh, Prefect, you wouldn’t hide something as important as a birthday from us again, would you? It’s not wise to keep secrets from your allies.”

But the teasing is his way of showing he cares.

Grimm

“You didn’t even tell me, your best pal?! Unbelievable!”

He paces around the room dramatically, occasionally glaring at you with exaggerated betrayal.

As much as he tries to play it off as annoyance, it’s clear he’s genuinely hurt that you didn’t trust him with such important information.

“I live here! I’m supposed to know these things!”

His solution to everything is cake.

“Alright, let’s bake a cake right now. Wait, no—you bake the cake, and I’ll taste-test it!”

Grimm will insist on celebrating your birthday retroactively, even if it’s something small. He’ll demand a party and act like it’s all for you, but deep down, he just wants to feel like he’s making things right.

Overall, they argue over how to properly celebrate your next birthday. Ace wants chaos, Deuce wants heartfelt, Grimm just wants food, and Azul suggests something elegant but practical.

Despite their differences, they all agree on one thing: they’re not letting you keep secrets like this again. You can expect everyone to be hyperaware of your birthday next year—and they’ll make sure it’s unforgettable.

[goingsunnythousandmerry]

Helloo! Can I request some sub!monster trio smut pls? (Also, congrats on 100 followers!! <3)

Sub! Monster Trio x Reader - Zoro, Sanji, Luffy

Hey! Sorry it took me so long to get this written, but here you are. Enjoy! Request, comment, critique below! Let me know your thoughts if you wish. If you request I am unsure how long it will take me, but I am willing to try. I am also willing to expand to writing about JJK and AOT. Thank you for reading! Thank you for following!

I hope everyone has a great 2025!

Summary: Sub Monster trio smut- trying new things with Zoro, a typical tuesday with Sanji and he loves to serve, Luffy is needy and needs taught how to slow down.

Monster trio in this is post-time skip.

Warnings: MDNI, choking, face sitting, tying up, teasing, brat behavior, riding, pet names, fingering, praise, sub and dom behavior (using for pleasure), begging, i don't own these characters

Zoro:

Zoro was always in charge, and you loved it. Your boyfriend was never one to hesitate—blunt about his needs and wants, taking what he desired without question. But deep down, you longed to see him melt, to watch him lose control for once. You tried to make him beg, to push him to the edge and force him to wait. That thought lingered in your mind as the ship docked at a bustling port with an expansive marketplace. So you decide to find some rope…

That evening, the crew gathered for dinner. The table, as always, was a riot of chaos and laughter. You sat next to Zoro, his hand resting firmly on your thigh beneath the table, possessive but subtle enough that no one noticed. Luffy and Usopp were cracking jokes, their antics drawing loud, tearful laughter from Chopper. Brook sipped his tea, chuckling in his usual elegant manner, while Robin watched the chaos with her serene, knowing smile. Sanji flitted about, serving dessert plates to Nami, Robin, and you with his usual flair.

“Thanks, Sanji!” Nami said with a flutter of her lashes, her tone sweet enough to send the cook spinning into heart-eyed bliss.

Luffy lunged across the table to swipe someone’s dessert, only to be dragged back by Sanji and Franky, the latter shaking his head with a bemused grin. Jimbei sat quietly, sake cup in hand, his deep chuckle rumbling like distant thunder as he observed the scene.

Amid the familiar chaos, you leaned closer to Zoro, your lips just brushing the shell of his ear.

Zoro stilled momentarily, his grip on your thigh tightening just slightly. Then he exhaled slowly, lifting his sake cup to his lips to down the remainder in a single swig. He turned slightly, just enough for his dark eyes to meet yours. His expression was unreadable, but the faint smirk tugging at his lips and the sharp glint in his eye spoke volumes.

“What is it?” he asked, his voice quiet, almost casual, but heavy with intrigue.

You pulled back just enough to hold his gaze, a playful smile curving your lips.

“Patience,” you said, voice soft but full of promise.

Zoro stood up and excused himself, taking his dishes to the sink. Before exiting the room, he glanced over his shoulder, his dark eyes locking on yours for a brief moment. A small tilt of his head was all it took—a silent invitation meant just for you. The lively chaos of the crew around you served as the perfect distraction, ensuring no one noticed the exchange.

The crew had their suspicions about you and Zoro, but neither of you had ever confirmed anything outright. There were the occasional… sounds—questionable noises that went unexplained, or poorly explained when someone asked. But no one pried, respecting the unspoken boundaries. Even so, you and Zoro preferred to keep things discreet.

You let a few minutes pass, discussing hopes for future adventures with your crewmates and laughing at Luffy’s usual antics. The camaraderie felt light and warm, but your attention was elsewhere, anticipation simmering across your skin. Eventually, you stood and stretched, stifling a yawn.

“I’m exhausted,” you said, offering a sheepish smile. “Think I’ll turn in early.”

As always, Sanji was quick to intervene when you reached for your plate.

“Absolutely not! A lady never clears her own dishes,” he declared, whisking it away before you could protest.

You laughed lightly, shaking your head. “Thanks, Sanji. Goodnight, everyone!” You say with a wave.

With that, you left the others to their meal and slipped away, the faint hum of laughter and clinking dishes fading as you headed down the hallway. You didn’t rush, your steps unhurried but deliberate, the promise of what awaited you adding a sway to your stride. By the time you reached your quarters, your heart was beating just a little faster.

Zoro was waiting.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself, before opening the door. Zoro stood by your bed, casually caressing the rope you'd bought that day in his hand.

“Well, Princess,” he said, a teasing edge to his voice, “care to explain what this is for?”

You swallowed hard, your cheeks warming. “That’s... what I wanted to talk to you about,” you began, hesitating. You took a shaky breath then spoke, “Zoro, can I tie you up? I want to be in charge for once.”

A smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he looked from the rope to you, his sharp eyes glinting with curiosity. He exhaled slowly, considering your words. Zoro wasn’t the kind of man who easily surrendered control. He knew what he wanted, and he took it without hesitation.

But for you? Just this once, he was willing to try.

“Fine,” he said, at last, raising an eyebrow. “Just this once. But…” His smirk widened as he tossed the rope onto the bed beside him. “You’re going to have to make me.”

The challenge in his tone sent a spark of determination through you. Standing tall, you square your shoulders and step toward him. With a firm push, you guided him backward onto the bed.

He laughed, the sound low and warm, and nodded in mock surrender. “Alright, alright,” he murmured, his hands coming to rest on your waist as he pulled you on top of him.

You reached for his wrists, trying to pin them to his sides, but he resisted.

“I never said I’d make it easy,” he teased, his voice laced with amusement.

“Zoro,” you said with a shake of your head, meeting his gaze.

His grin only widened as his hands tightened slightly on your waist, his eyes never leaving yours. Slowly, you leaned in, brushing your lips against his. The kiss started soft and teasing, your fingers threading into his hair. As you shifted your legs, straddling him, his lips pressed harder against yours, his hunger evident.

He was trying to take control again, his hands already sliding up your waist.

Not this time.

Your hand reached out, grabbing the rope from where he’d dropped it. You broke the kiss, pushing him firmly back against the bed.

“No, Zoro,” you said, your voice steady and commanding. “I’m in charge today. I’m tying you up for good measure. Now be a good swordsman and let me.”

His eyes flicked to yours, narrowing slightly in defiance, but there was a flicker of intrigue behind them.

“You’re going to learn patience for once,” you added, holding his gaze. “And if you’re good, you’ll be rewarded.”

You reached for the hem of his shirt, your fingers brushing against his skin as you pulled it up over his head. He chuckled softly, his amusement evident, as if entertained by your bold attempts at authority.

Next, your hands moved to the waistband of his pants, but before you could act, his hand shot out, gripping your wrist firmly. In one swift motion, he pulled you closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke.

“Princess, princess, princess…” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. “You’re driving me crazy.”

A shiver ran down your spine, but you refused to back down. Turning your head to meet his gaze, your lips hovered close to his, and your eyes locked.

“Good,” you whispered.

His lips curved into a smirk. “Let’s just cut to the chase,” he said, his tone dripping with impatience as he pulled you into his lap, his arms wrapping around your waist. “Let me take care of you.”

You rolled your eyes, refusing to fall into his rhythm. With a firm push, you shoved him back against the bed, your hands pinning his arms at his sides.

“No,” you said, your voice steady and filled with determination.

He raised an eyebrow at you, but a flicker of approval glimmered in his dark eyes.

Before he could resist, you grabbed his wrists and secured them to the bedframe with the rope. He fought back slightly, his muscles tensing as you worked, his jaw tightening when the ropes cinched snugly around his wrists.

His gaze never left you. Those intense, lust-filled eyes burned into yours, his breathing growing shakier with each passing second.

You smiled, a mixture of triumph and anticipation, before shifting to the foot of the bed. His eyes followed your every move as you bent down and undid the zipper of his pants, slowly pulling them and his boxers down his legs. You tossed them to the side of the bed. Gripping his ankle one at a time tied his legs to the bed, securing him completely. His arousal grows from watching you. 

Zoro sat up as much as the restraints allowed, straining for a better view of you.

“Still fighting me, huh?” you teased, crawling up the bed to straddle him as you ran your fingers lightly down his chest.

His lips curled into a smirk, but he said nothing, the tension between you thick enough to cut with a knife.

He jerked forward against the restraints, the ropes straining as his muscles flexed. The urge to pull you close burned in his chest, frustration etched in every line of his face. His teeth ground together, and his ragged breaths only added to his irritation, the lack of control gnawing at him.

You tilted your head, studying him with a playful glint in your eye. “What’s wrong, baby? Do you need something?” you teased, your voice dripping with mock sympathy as you bit down on your lip, savoring the sight of him.

“What’s wrong baby..? Do you need something?” You say teasing, biting down on your lip as you take in the sight of him. 

His dark eyes narrowed, the heat in them growing as he leaned back against the headboard, forcing himself to breathe deeply. Slowly, a small grin spread across his lips, defiance and desire mingling in his expression.

“What now, Princess?” he asked, his voice rough but taunting, the nickname laced with challenge.

You smirked in response, crawling up the bed with deliberate slowness, closing the distance between you. Leaning in, you brought your lips to his ear.

The warm sensation of your breath sent shivers rippling through his body, his chest rising sharply as he instinctively leaned into you, only to be reminded by the ropes that he couldn’t move.

“Patience,” you whispered, your tone soft but commanding, the word lingering in the air like a promise.

“Now, I play,” you whispered, your lips brushing against his jaw as they trailed softly down his neck.

A shiver ran through his body, his squirming beneath you igniting a spark that spread like fire to your core. You let out a low, pleased moan as a deep growl rumbled from between his clenched teeth. Your tongue flicked over his neck, stopping at his collarbone, where your teeth sank into his skin just enough to make him gasp. A shaky groan slipped from Zoro’s lips. You then soothed the bite with gentle kisses, your eyes flicking up to meet his.

His body was tense, desire burning in the dark depths of his gaze. Slowly, you tilted your chin up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, lingering just long enough to leave him wanting. When you pulled back, your eyes danced between his lips and his lust-filled eyes.

“Zoro…” you murmur, your voice low and teasing. “What do you want? What do you need?”

He swallowed hard, his breath shaky as it escaped his chest. “You… I need you,” he whispered, the words raw and unsteady.

“And how do you want me..? You’ve been patient so far… I may be willing to reward you if you continue.” I say, raising my eyebrows at him. 

Your eyes stay locked on his, even as your lips begin their descent, trailing soft, deliberate kisses down his chest to his abdomen. The closer you move to his length the more his groans fill the air, rough and unrestrained. His hips buck with need. His arms strain against the ropes binding him, muscles flexing in frustration, forcing you to pause.

“Zoro, patience,” you purr.

His body stiffened, and a shudder ran through him as he exhaled shakily. You can feel the tension radiating from him. His length aching to be touched.

Your eyes trace the expanse of his long, toned torso, down to his hardened length, before meeting his gaze again. Slowly, you licked your lips and shifted your body to settle between his legs.

Zoro’s breath catches in his chest, his eyes fixed on you. No matter how many times he’d seen you like this, it never failed to ignite something primal within him. His legs tense, and his bound arms tug at the restraints, his body struggling to remain still, to remain unable to take you the way he wanted to. The raw hunger in his expression sends a thrill through you, and a knowing smile curls at your lips.

You firmly place a hand on his base causing Zoro to growl. He swallowed hard, his body quivering beneath your touch.  You lowered a second hand on his length, your hands barely wrapping around him completely. Licking your lips again, you inched your mouth towards letting your breath hit his tip. His toes curled, sending an electric sensation up his body. He pulled against his restraints more desperate for your touch.

“Y/N, please.” He begged.

You smile, “Beg more Zo.” You requested.

He swallowed hard, his voice soft and needy, “Please, Y/N. Need to feel your… mouth on me.”

With that, you lick his tip, one stroke. His breathing became rapid, weak groans escaping him. You breathe out on him again, lowering your head to his base. You stick out your tongue and trace up and down his length. After several swipes, you stop once more at his tip where you slide him between your soft pink lips. A weak ragged breath escapes him as you take him further in his mouth.

“Y/N.” He moans, his hands fighting his restraints wanting to put a hand on the back of your head to control your depth and speed.

You smirk against him, taking him into the back of your mouth. In response, he lets out a loud uncontrolled growl. Your hands settle on his legs and you start moving your lips up and down against him, shifting between deep and shallow strokes. The noises from your lips cause him to fight his restraints more. His hips buck up into your face.

You let out a soft chuckle and remove your lips from him. He gasps at the cool air hitting him. You wipe your mouth and shift your hands to his hips, pushing him down against the bed. He growls in response.

You lower your mouth back to him, swirling your tongue on his tip. You gently slide him across your tongue taking him into your mouth once again. After adjusting, your head bounces up and down between his legs, holding his length between your lips. His feet kicked at the bed frame, his head digging into the headboard. 

“Y/N. I’m going to…” he starts to speak but a groan cuts him off. 

You smiled against him, taking him as deep in your throat as you could. The tight sensation drove him wild. With a growl, he moaned and finished shooting down your throat. His body trembled under your touch and you slowly pulled him out from your lips.

“Great job, Zo.” You said before licking the mess that dripped down his length. When you were done you showed him your tongue to show you’d taken all of him. His chest heaves, his breath slowing. 

“Y/N. That was…” he started, a smirk growing on his face, but you cut him off. 

“Oh Zoro, we’re not done yet.” You said with a mischievous grin.

Sanji

Sanji was in the kitchen, preparing ingredients for tomorrow's meals. The thing about Sanji was that you could always count on him to take care of your needs. He was like your personal toy or a loyal puppy: obedient, eager, and willing to do whatever you asked, whether it be sit, stay, or lie down.

When you entered the kitchen, the soft sound of the door caught his attention. He was chopping vegetables, a lit cigarette perched between his lips as he worked. A bead of sweat rolled down his temple, which he wiped away with a cloth draped over his shoulder. At the sound of your arrival, he glanced up, raising one of his signature curly eyebrows.

“Oh, Y/N,” he greeted, a warm smile gracing his lips. “You hungry? Need anything?” His eyes roamed down your figure briefly before returning to the task at hand.

It wasn’t the first time you’d wandered into the kitchen late at night while he worked. You both knew the routine and he loved it.

“You almost done?” you asked casually, leaning against the wooden counter beside him, your eyes waiting patiently for him to meet yours.

Sanji paused, the rhythmic chop of the knife halting as he turned to you. A smile crept across his face.  “I’ll take it, you need something?” His voice was soft, teasing, as his gaze drifted lower down your body.

“Yeah, I do…” you said, letting your voice lower with a hint of need. “Think you can help me?”

He didn’t hesitate. Sanji set the knife down and dropped the towel onto the counter. “I’d do anything for you, Y/N,” he said, stepping closer, his hand resting lightly on your waist.

“Yeah?” you murmured, tilting your head to meet his gaze. “Then prove it.” You said, grabbing the lit cigarette from his lips and patting it out in the ashtray beside you.

Your hand lifted again and grabbed the black tie he wore, pulling him close, so close that your lips were just a breath apart. His eyes widened slightly, filled with intrigue and want, as he held your lust-filled gaze.

You brought your lips less than an inch to his, breathing against his face. Your needy eyes staring into his eyes then glancing down at his aching lips.

But before your lips could touch, you smiled mischievously and let go of his tie, stepping back and slipping from his grasp.

“Follow me,” you said with a smirk, your voice dripping with challenge as you turned and walked away, leaving him standing there, stunned but more than willing to follow.

Sanji’s heart raced. He trailed closely behind you, admiring the sway of your hips as you walked. He sped up, matching your pace, and brushed a hand against the small of your back. The ship was silent, the rest of the crew deep in slumber, while the two of you ascended to the crow’s nest. You climbed ahead of him, your skirt swaying with each ladder rung you climbed, the breeze catching it and raising it slightly. Sanji’s eyes couldn’t help but linger, catching a tantalizing glimpse beneath at the lack of panties you were wearing. The sight made his breath hitch and his nose bleed. He knew exactly where this night was headed.

Once inside the crow’s nest, Sanji wasted no time. His hands found your waist as he leaned in, his lips seeking yours. But you stopped him, eyes meeting his. You pressed your palm lightly against his chest.

“Lie down,” you commanded.

Sanji’s lips curled into a soft, mischievous smile. “As you wish, my love,” he murmured, moving to the couch and reclining with ease, his gaze never leaving you.

His chest rose and fell with anticipation as you approached, every step deliberate, your movements laced with intent. When you reached him, you climbed onto the couch,spreading your legs to straddle him. With the release of an exhale you pressed your hands against his chest and pinned him down. 

 “Use me however you need, Y/N.” He said, his voice a bit raspy at the desperation building within him. His eyes traced your shape sitting against him, his breath hitching in his chest.

You lifted a hand to his cheek, caressing it gently. “Oh Sanji dear, I will.” You said with a wink.

A shiver ran down Sanji’s spine. The silence around him was deafening, broken only by the thunderous rhythm of his heartbeat echoing in his ears. You shifted, lifting yourself from where you had been straddling his abdomen, your movements slow and deliberate, leaving him breathless beneath you. You move to hover your hips over his face. His eyes admire your naked folds beneath your skirt, his tongue flicking across his lips, as desire ached throughout him. 

With an inhale, he breathed your scent in deeply. His breathing turned rapid. His arms lifted to your legs, his hands squeezing your hips. The fabric of your skirt scrunched beneath his grasp. Your body trembled under his touch, a wave of need coursing through you. Without hesitation, you lowered yourself onto his face.

The feeling of his warm breath between your fold causes you to moan and spread your legs wider. His lips pepper your folds with kisses, his hips bucking at your moan. The grasp on your hips and legs grew tighter. Electricity danced across your skin when his tongue began to trace shapes on your sensitivity. The loud needy moan escaping your damn lips led Sanji to pull you closer.

  “Good boy, Sanji. You’re treating me so good, Baby.” You said before moaning again. 

  Your hips roll back and forth against his tongue. Shaky breaths escape you. Your hands wander from the arm of the couch to his hair. Your fingers curled deep within his blonde waves while his tongue dipped to dance within you. 

Your skirt shifts, his hand letting go of your hip to slip under its fabric. His fingers slid up your folds until they met your sensitive bud, his thumb circling it with fervor.

“Sanji.” You moaned, your hips thrusting while you rode his face. The tickling of his goatee drove you wild. 

 Every moan that came from your lips sent Sanji deeper into a frenzy. The strong grip of his hand encouraged you to lean back. His tongue worked deeper within your walls, seeking out your sensitivity. Once he found it, he lapped with delight, his thumb and tongue moving faster with varying pressures.

 “Sanji!” You said. “I’m going to..!”

  Sanji gripped your body tighter against his face. His tongue moved up and down within you, hitting your special spot repeatedly while his thumb spiraled harder on your sensitivity. The warmth in your abdomen grew. Your hips bucked and your body trembled.

 “SANJIII.” You moaned, your ecstasy overwhelming you. 

Like a firework, you burst, your juices dripping down onto Sanji’s face.

    He lapped up every drop, planting gentle kisses between your legs when he was done. You softly moaned and quivered against him, still feeling sensitive.

    “Need more baby, please! I could eat you all night. Please may I?” He begged

 You laugh, your body shivered as he kissed between your folds on your now overly sensitive spot. 

“Sanjiii.” You weakly moaned.  A breath escapes your lip and you release your hands from his hair. Scooting back off his face onto his abdomen you look down into his eyes. A soft smile grazes your cheeks.

“You’re so good to me Sanji… Letting me use you like that.”

“Use me anytime. Please. I’d do anything for you. Whatever you need, I’m yours.”

You smirk a warm feeling growing within you, but a dark need began to build in your core.

“If you insist. You’re like a loyal puppy—always coming back for more, always doing as you’re told,” you teased, your fingers lightly tracing the sharp line of his jaw. A mischievous smile played on your lips. “Bark for me, Sanji.”

His eyes gleamed with a mix of humor and desire, and without hesitation, he let out a loud, “Woof.”

You chuckled softly, leaning forward to press your lips against his. Your tongue slipped between his parted lips, tasting the faint bitterness of cigarettes mixed with red wine and the essence of yourself lingering on him. The blend made you smile wider as he pulled you closer, his hands gripping you firmly.

When he finally broke the kiss, his voice was low, almost pleading. “Please, let me taste you more,” he whispers, his gaze burning with need.

You nod, brushing your lips against his in a softer kiss before shifting to settle yourself above his face once more, surrendering to his request.

Luffy

Luffy needed three things, meat, adventure, and you. That day he’d been messing around with Chopper and Usop like normal until you decided to sunbathe on deck. You exited the cabin interior, wearing only a red string biking. His eyes fell on you, his heart beginning to thud in his chest. His whole body grew warm and in an instant, his arm stretched across the deck finding your waist. He flung himself next to you and pulled you close. 

“Y/N.” Luffy said.

           “Yes Luffy..?” You ask with an innocent hum. 

         His fingers gently traced up your waist to your sides, rubbing across your abdomen. Your hair shifted and you felt his breath hit your neck sending a cold shiver down your spine. He moved closer behind you, his pelvis shifting to dig into your back. A pink hue grew on your cheeks as you felt his need.

        “I need you.” He muttered.

       “Luffy I just got changed…” You replied, looking over your shoulder for your eyes to meet his.

        “I need you, Y/N,” he said. He pulled you deeper into his embrace, his hips grinding into your back.

      “Luffy… the crew.” You stutter out.

      Luffy nips at your neck catching your skin between his teeth. His hands trail with more fervor across your body. His breathing grew rapid, his eyes growing darker with desire.

     “Please, Y/N.”He begged.

     You hesitate, scanning the deck amazed your crewmates were not watching the scene their captain was putting on. “Fine. My quarters. Now.” You said.

He gripped your waist tightly, his hold possessive yet careful, and dashed toward your living quarters, keeping you pressed firmly against his side. In one fluid motion, he threw open the door and pulled you inside, the wood slamming shut behind you with a resounding thud.

The small room was simple, its wooden walls bathed in the soft glow of evening light. The only furnishings were a bed draped with a deep purple bedspread and a plain white nightstand beside it. But neither of you spared a glance at the surroundings.

His lips crashed against yours, urgent and fervent, his hands tracing the bare skin of your back with a rough tenderness. The lingering warmth of the sun seemed to cling to his lips, blending with the faint taste of meat from dinner, an unexpected detail that only heightened the rawness of the moment.

His hold on you collapsed harder as he pulled you closer, his body pressing into yours with an intensity that sent heat coursing through you. His hips moved instinctively, a needy rhythm that made your breath catch.

  Your heart raced, a fire igniting within you, both thrilling and commanding. You loved Luffy, but his impulsiveness always came first, often overshadowing your own needs. He needed to remember who was in control.

You pulled back from his strong embrace, placing your hands firmly on his chest to push him away. But his arms only tightened around you, a desperate strength in his hold.

“Luffy!” you said sharply, your tone laced with authority as you huffed in frustration.

He stopped, his rapid breathing mingling with yours as his wide, earnest eyes locked onto yours, searching for permission that wasn’t coming.

“Y/N… please,” he murmured, his voice raw and pleading. He leaned in, his lips aiming for the sensitive curve of your neck, but you pressed your hands against him again, stopping him short.

“Luffy, sit down,” you ordered, your voice firm and unwavering. “We’ve been through this. You’re rushing again.”

His lips parted in a groan, frustration flashing across his face. His hands lingered on your sides, gripping tightly for a moment before finally letting go. With a heavy sigh, he stomped to the bed and dropped onto its edge, sulking but compliant.

“Good,” you said firmly, your voice low and commanding. “Now, breathe.”

He drew in a deep, shaky breath, his chest rising as his gaze fixed on you. His eyes, dark and filled with unrelenting desire, refused to soften even as he exhaled. The hunger in his stare was magnetic, pulling you in, his need almost tangible in the charged air between you.

“Please…” he whispered, the word breaking from his lips like a prayer.

You stepped closer, letting the moment stretch before slowly lowering yourself onto his lap. The instant your hips pressed against him, his body reacted instinctively, his hips jerking upward, desperate for more.

A frustrated hiss escaped through your clenched teeth, and your hand shot up to his throat, your fingers pressing firmly into his skin. His breath hitched, his body stilling under your touch.

“Slow down,” you commanded, your tone sharp, allowing for no argument.

Luffy’s eyes widened, his hand instinctively reaching up to yours on his throat. The tension between you simmered, his shallow breaths mingling with yours. The sensation of your grip, firm and unyielding, left him trembling. The lack of air, coupled with your dominance, had a calming yet electrifying effect on him. A gasp slipped from his lips as you tightened your hold, and when you finally released him, he panted hard.

A smirk crept across his face.

You smiled back, watching him catch his breath. His hand returned to your waist, squeezing gently. The softness of his touch sent a wave of warmth through you, and you leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to his lips.

His shoulders relaxed beneath your touch, his body unwinding as your arms wrapped around his neck. You paused, inhaling deeply, savoring the moment before pulling him closer for a deeper kiss. His body quivered slightly beneath you, a telltale sign of the effect you had on him.

Your grip on him tightened as his tongue brushed against yours, the kiss deepening with each passing second. But just as he began to lose himself, you broke the kiss, letting your lips trail softly down to his neck.

“Please, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice tinged with need.

While your lips lingered at the base of his neck, your hand moved to your side, deftly untying the strings of your bikini bottoms. With one last lingering kiss on his clavicle, you pulled back, locking eyes with him.

His jaw clenched as he took in your gaze—loving yet commanding—and the rise and fall of his chest grew uneven. Your fingertips trailed down his arm, delicate yet deliberate, until they reached his wrist. As you curled your fingers around it, his muscles tensed beneath your touch.

You gave him a small, knowing nod and guided his hand between your legs, the anticipation hanging thick in the air.

“You have to warm me up first.. remember?”

Luffy nodded.”Right.”

  His fingers traced between your slick wet folds. A hard swallow bobbed down his throat. He let out another weak breath. His eyes remained locked on yours, his hips bucking every once in a while, his need still trying to overwhelm him. Every time his hips bucked you tightly squeezed his shoulders, your hand drifting closer to his neck, reminding him to slow down. 

His fingers circled on your sensitivity. He gripped your hips pulling you closer to him. You moaned as he rubbed you, your head dropping to rest on his shoulder. Your breathing then began to match his. A smile spread on your face, your hips squirming at the sensation between your legs. 

After a few more minutes of playing with you, Luffy’s eyes darkened. He lifted his other hand to untie your bikini top. His lips met your bare skin peppering your neck and chest with kisses. You moaned at the sensation of his lips on your skin, your teething digging deep into your body lip while his left hand continued to work between your legs. 

His head tilted, finding your sensitive nipples. He lapped them up between his lips and bit down. 

“Luffy….” You moaned.

“Please Y/N.” He begged, His grip tightening on your hip.

He swallowed, his body tensing, but he couldn’t help his hips bucking upward again.

“Okay, Luffy.” You replied, your hands dropping from his neck and shoulders to his chest.

His eyes lit up a wide green spreading across his face. He eagerly lifted you from his hips and pulled down his shorts and boxers. His length was long and hard. With one hand he pulled you towards him, using his other to stroke your wet folds with his length. His breath caught in his chest when you reached for him. He let go, allowing you to take over.  His hands settled back on your waist and pulled you close.

You slowly guided him to your entrance and eased him into you. Your moan bounced across the walls of the room as he stretched you, pushing himself deeper. You clawed at his back. Your walls clenched around him.

Luffy began to pull back, but you dug your nails into his back and chest.

“Let me adjust.” You replied breathily.

He nodded. His eyes locked on your form in front of him. His hands gripped your hips for dear life waiting for you to tell him he could move.

You let out a slow deep breath.

“Okay, but start slow, okay?” You said.

Luffy eagerly nodded, pulling out of you. He pressed his lips to yours and thrusts back in, his pace slow. With each push he moved deeper, using his devil fruit to help him stretch himself to feel more of you.

“Luffy.” You moaned.

“You feel so good.” He groaned. “Need…”

His hips rutted faster and your hand jerked to his throat squeezing him tight. He gasped and stopped thrusting. 

While your hand remained on his throat, you rode him. You set the pace, rolling your hips to feel more of him. You let out another moan before releasing your tight grasp on his throat. 

The rise and fall of his chest was shallow as he caught his breath. The action relaxed him but also drove him more wild with need. He pulled you closer, moving his hips into deep but controlled thrusts. His wide needy eyes begged for you to allow him to move faster.

“Good, Luffy. Now faster.”

With that, he stood up from the bed. He brought both arms around your waist and backed you into one of the walls. Once against it, he pushed on your abdomen encouraging you to lie back into the wall at an angle. When he was happy with your position, he wrapped your legs tighter around his thighs and waist. His hands traced up your legs to your hips, where his fingers dug into your exposed skin. 

He nodded at you and you nodded back. With the release of a deep breath, he began thrusting faster into you, his form becoming sloppy, but the new position allowed him to hit deeper inside you. 

Your hands rested on his shoulders, your hips bucking against him. The position allowed him to hit your sensitive spot within your folds.

“Perfect, Luffy right there… Yes.” you cooed. 

His eyes lit up with desire, and he pounded harder loving the sweat sounds escaping your lips.

“Luffy, I’m…”

His thumb moved from your waist to your sensitivity where he rubbed circles on it. You bit your lip at the sensation, feeling the warmth within your abdomen burst.

“Lufffyy.” You moaned, your juices releasing on him. He continued to thrust into you through your release, the clenches of your walls driving him into his own. Your body trembled on him, and he leaned forward. You felt the pulsing of him within you and he released a moaning finishing deep within your walls.

“Y/N.” he huffed softly, and you could feel a smile grow on his lips against your shoulder.

“Luffy, that was so good.” Your voice was still shaky from your pleasure but delighted from the experience. 

He gently lowered your legs to the floor and pulled out of you. His breathing ragged, he stepped closer to you and kissed your cheek.

“I hope Sanji’s made lunch, I’m hungry.”

“You’re always hungry,” I replied.

“Good thing you always have a snack for me.” He said with a grin as he licked his lips.

[skittles-secrets]

I just wanna say I love your writing sm! 🥰 and I’d like to request hcs on how the batboys act when they have a crush on the reader, and how they work themselves up to asking them out? Tysm!

how they act when they have a crush 😯

bruce wayne

had known the feeling all too well. he'd had lots of crushes before. bruce is worried, though, because most of his other relationships ended in some sort of crazy plot twist and he couldn't handle that again. plus, he was driving himself crazy worrying.

will they not like me after they spend more than a day with me at a time? will they break up with me when they see all the kids? how can i tell them i'm batman?

he got over it though when his eldest son, dick, hit him on the back and encouraged him. "bruce, you can't keep waiting around. if you want something, you have to get it before it's gone, okay?"

so, then he wasn't so afraid of having his little crush anymore.

dick grayson

could've asked you out a loooong time ago. he has the confidence. he has the looks. he was a fan favorite in all of gotham. so why hadn't you? well, he wasn't sure if you'd go for someone like him. he didn't know of your past relationships, let alone if you'd had any. so that's how he talked himself out of it.

it was only when he caught himself giggling at your texts to him at 3 a.m. when he realized that he was down bad. he needed to confess to you. if he didn't, he'd be stuck pining after you and laughing at your texts like a hormonal teenager for the rest of his sad, sad life.

jason todd

didn't really understand the feeling at first. he didn't get exposed to crushes and those sorts of things as a child because he didn't have the luxury of elementary school. then, he spent most of his teenage to young adult years.. well.. dead, so... it's not like he could have been dating anyone then.

that's why he was so confused and nervous. why doesn't talking to you feel like anyone else? why does he mentally scold himself after every conversation for every stupid thing he said.

he realized he had to confess to you on one of the occasions he made you smile. he realized that he wanted to do it over again a million more times, because he wanted to be the one to make you smile and laugh. he wanted to be there for you while you slept, or were sad, or scared. damn.. he really likes you.

tim drake

was no stranger to crushes. he'd always been the type to look at someone and crush on them for years, never say anything, and then it goes away when he realizes that it's never gonna work out. that's what his crush was like, pining after you.

he just automatically assumed that every person he'd like would never even consider dating him. it was weird, because he's a good looking guy and there's no reason for him to think like that.

he realized that he needed to confess to you when he found himself accidentally stalking your instagram so hard he hit the first post you ever made. also, jason called him out for it in front of damian and damian is mean so he got embarrassed and flustered and decided that it wouldn't be so bad if he actually did say something to you.

thank you so much for the request and the follow! i loved this idea, and it was so fun to write. thank you for liking my writing!

[seokmn]

FAILURE

pairing: dokyeom x gn!reader

wc: 0.6k words

lua’s note: maybe this fic is a bit specific because its kinda a vent. i wanted to get this out of my chest somehow and decided to post it because maybe there’s someone who’s going through the same thing as me and need to read these words. essa vai pros que so fizeram o enem e vestibulares de faculdades publicas e nao passaram pra segunda fase deles e agora precisam esperar a nota do enem pra meter no sisu ou prouni 😛

another instagram story you viewed, another text with those three cursed words you read and another ‘congratulations, lets celebrate it!’ you had to write as a reply for that text. you sighed, placed your phone on your lap and hid your face with your hands.

the only thing that comes to your mind right now is the word failure. you failed and now you have to watch other people celebrate their accomplishments.

seokmin heard your sigh and turned around to look at you, taking sight of your disappointed figure. he stopped cooking, dropping the knife and washing his hands before sitting down next to you on the couch. his hand rested on your thigh, a way to try to comfort you without words being said. he already had an idea about why were you like that. “another one?”

you hummed and stopped hiding your face. you looked at him with a small smile and nodded. “another one,” you looked down and took his hand before looking back at him, trying to sound and look okay. “another friend of mine was accepted at the university she wanted.”

seokmin let out a quiet sigh and rubbed his thumb against the back of your hand. he didnt say anything, already knowing you’d keep venting about it to him. “im happy for her, i really am. but i cant help but ask myself: is this it? am i going to stay behind while all my friends will go to college and live their lives? am i too dumb to go to college?” your lips began to tremble and your voice was cracking, “and i hate myself for feeling this way, i hate to compare my life to theirs and not being able to be happy for them without feeling miserable about my situation. they studied a lot for this and they deserve it, but i studied as well. is it something wrong with me?”

seokmin frowned and placed your head against his chest. “theres nothing wrong with you,” he began to caress your head, trying to soothe you. “you said yourself that this year took a toll on you because of studies, trying to be sure about your future and trying to find an university that youd like the thought of studying there. do your things in your own pace. you not being accepted in any university until now doesnt mean youre a failure, you cant be accepted in any university yet because you gotta wait your results of the national exam come out.”

he cupped your cheeks and pulled you away from his chest so you could look at each others eyes. “listen to me, you are not a failure, okay? you just graduated from high school, youre so young and you have so much things to do. take your own time, that doesnt mean youre staying behind. that means you’re building your own path.”

you nodded as he brushed your tears away with his thumb. listening to his words was like being hugged by your mother after spending a whole day away from her when you were a little kid, was like being kissed by the wind while watching the sunset at the beach with a loved one.

seokmin always knew how to comfort you, how to make you realize youre not being fair with yourself and that you should be way kinder with yourself because you are loved and are capable of doing anything.

“dont forget about that,” he kissed your forehead and stood up, looking at you with love in his eyes and that comfy smile that no one else but him could smile like that. “now help me to cook. we’re going to eat a delicious meal and then spend the rest of the day watching your favorite sitcom”

[bcacstuff]

People do realise he only got back from Nepal & a very big strain on his body and organs like a week ago??? Questioning him reposting at 1.30am or 3am means nothing. His sleeping is going to be messed up for weeks. Also reposting stuff twice is an easy mistake, he’s probably exhausted and forgets which he’s reposted as confusion can happen when re-acclimatising to normal altitude and reality after that. Goodness me the man can’t just do normal things without everything getting picked apart

Oh Anons, especially Anon 2.... I think you'd gonna explode if you saw my inbox. You only see the bit on other blogs and ignorant people making assumptions and acting surprised about something, getting outrageous about something that they could have known already for a while..... if you pay attention to the right things that is, not to the things that do not matter at all. 🙄

Yes, I agree very much, that trek he did, the affects it has on your body, it doesn't matter how well you are trained or how much you always live in a jetlag style off life, it has a strain not only on your body also on your mind as well. Just go figure it's not for nothing he waited to take that opportunity after he had no more responsibilities and ties for a series he has been working on for all these years. And we all know this is something he always wanted to do.

Also agree on how he shared his wonderful experience together with the posts of Jake N. I loved to explore the maps to see where and how they went, look up pictures and places, read about the challenges. And then read it first hand from the ones who really did it. What a nice change from all the booze advertising, but even more what a welcoming change in my inbox. I pretty much enjoyed the calm, apart from that one persistent Anon that kept on going on and on about........ Ash.

Yes really even then, no need for me to check her IG as I would have a daily reports about what she posted together with the most biased opinion about it, of course all in the most extreme negative way. Get a life, get a hobby... that's what I would shout at this Anon's face in real life. What poor life do you have if this is your daily business and you keep on writing to me to get it out of your system even if I do not post any of it. Yes, I chose not to post or give it any attention in here... because I just know how giving this air is only gonna make it worse!

You know it's always the sort of people that are determined to judge about someone else's life, they always know what is best for you, they even think they know better what is best for you than yourself. Even though they do not walk in your shoes or see the sun and the moon like you do. And when you do not choose the path they think is best for you.... well.... yeah, that! Talking about getting picked apart Anon 1, and agree Anon 2, this whole agenda people have with him is so unhealthy

Anyway I could have predicted, I did in fact predict exactly two weeks ago what my inbox would look like today. How it would flood with messages about 'Ash this', and 'Ash that', and the 'no doubt he must be' and the 'are you still sure about...' exactly the way it did beginning this year with Sarah H. And here we are again, nothing changed.

Boom Ash is in London! - Sorry, no not Boom as if lightning struck, she announced it already 2 weeks ago people! And not only that, a week later she also announced she was gonna be in Glasgow. These are the stories of 13 and 20 December!

So how is it any surprise to people now? Oh wait, yeah you didn't see those stories, you just see what is now. Oh she's in London, oh he posts late a story and twice the same one.... must be... right, no doubt... Can't be anything else now can it???

Yes Christmas Day she posts from London (and before you ask no that is not Sam's hand)

as well as Boxing Day

And let me help you here a bit, location Dear Jackie at Broadwick Soho. for the ones unfamiliar, yes that is the same location the Flute is in, remember that weird 'launch' party organised by Flaunt magazine and MGMplus UK?

And then OMG she turns up in Glasgow posting from EDA... oh wow. Let's just throw out all common sense and make things fit a certain narrative. Let's just simply ignore how Sam has been posting all Christmas Day constantly from 7am until after 11pm. Because that's what you do when you try to hide you're in London secretly meeting up with somebody who announced her presence there weeks ago. Right? Let's just pay attention to the fact he posted at 1.30am and 3am the night after Boxing Day (where he also posted almost all afternoon). Let's just conveniently forget that there are a ton of other options, like going out with other friends in Glasgow, or having some good times with family like his brother and newly wed wife f.i. or falling asleep on the couch while watching Netflix (his latest follow on Christmas Day) and I can think of lots of other options.

Nope, we just go by the one option that fits our narrative, right? Cause we all want some entertainment, and so we just claim he was with her in London without a shred of evidence, not even a voice or hand to be recognized not even a matching cloud on the horizon. And my persistent Ash-Anon (how I call her) is all satisfied as she get's her way with all the attention she so hard tried to stir in this fandom and now she can accuse him again of all kind of mischief.

Yes, my inbox keeps flooding, even while I write this post. I already lost count. The weirdest things, because... you all take this one narrative as a basis and lose all sense of reality focussing on minor things that do not matter and by ignoring things that do not fit the narrative and other simple options and things like:

You really think Sam would fly one day to London while knowing she would be in Glasgow the very next day? Especially after a trip that wasn't peanuts and had its strain on his body and mind? That he wouldn't spend time with family and friends in these holidays after that trip but run to London cause his employee is there all alone? And gosh why would they not meet up at some point, have a drink or dinner or whatever together while she's in town, why would he say no? Is that in any way proof he started to date his employee, or have some hidden relationship with her?

Even though it is a bit awkward how Ash pushed herself into his circle of friends, is it that strange she'd go to EDA to work out? Is it strange that when she follows 3.231 (and we thought Sam follows a lot!^^) that it she follows a lot accounts mutually as Sam does? And by following them, are they suddenly all her friends as well? Do you really think Ash never traveled before in her job representing the Jagermeister brand? Like she doesn't know anybody else in London but the people and places connected to Sam? Like she doesn't know anybody else in Scotland but Sam? (what about Shiobhan who became her bestie?) But nooooo... she traveled to the UK during the holidays, she can't have anything to do in the UK. She can't have any other friends there who told her about hogmanay in Scotland perhaps? Oh wait, that doesn't fit the narrative, let's just skip that, okay? Because then we have entertainment and we all can go on telling how somebody else must live his or her life, because we all know better than themselves.

Why do you all care?

You know what? I'm just gonna leave it at this and post this song with the lyrics. As they apply to all of us

Because, you know we're all just passengers in this world, much unlike those high mountains that are here forever to stay. Tomorrow or next year, it will be all the same, Just another drama and another name, Another fight who's right or wrong, And they all forgot about yesterday... when we were young!

[scoops404]

Scoops' Fics of 2024

It's that time of year again! The time for me to rank my own fics for the last year in order from my least favorite to most favorite. I only considered fics I wrote entirely myself, so you won't see an honest living in here because that was almost 50/50 written with Dizzy! (but you should definitely go check it out!)

This year I only had two novel length fics because I was supposed to be focusing on original work (oops). I had a heck of a summer with my bingo fills. There's definitely recency bias at play here, but that's just how it goes sometimes. Let me know if you agree/disagree :D

See the Elephant - T - this one was written for a fic fest that ended up getting canceled because of the grituation. I had already written the entire thing and it had to be T because the artists were going to post their work. If I had known it would be canceled, I would have had them doing the freaknasty. This was after I had already planned out and written a fic before new boundaries dropped in November (see Circling Back). Basically, this fic fest was never meant to be, I suppose. I was starting to think I was a curse. Oh, but the fic itself is a soulmate AU and kinda angsty and has a hospital scene. 0 horse mentions.

Merry Men Making Merry - T - This was written for Fairy Tales from the SMP - the first and only successful fanfiction event I've completed all the way through (it's never me dropping out btw, it's always the event getting canceled). Anyway I got my first choice of fairy tale, which was Robin Hood, and I put a fun spin on it. The art with this fic was gorgeous!! A very different type of fic for me and it stretched some writing muscles I didn't know I had. Secret identity and identity reveal, some of my favorite tropes. 4 horse mentions.

Move to Florida, buy the car you want - E - the first of my bingo fics. It turns out I am bad at being brief. Anyway, DNF get together and semi-roadhead and I dunno, it's cute. I wrote most of this fic free hand in my note book at my work desk because fuck capitalism. I just checked, the prompt was "late night care rides" which checks out. 0 horse mentions

Someone told me there's no such thing as bad thoughts (croptop) - E - this is the one from the middle of June about crop tops that was also written for bingo. I dunno. It's cute enough. 0 horse mentions.

Everyone understands why it’s mean to be (a/b/o phone call) - T - this one is funny because I didn't even bother saying what the prompt was in the author's notes, but I think it was a/b/o. This one was fun to write because it was basically a nod to the 2021 fandom and where we were, and where DNF were -- waiting on that damn visa. Like going back in time and writing a fic. 1 horse mention.

Can I Use You Up - E - I really had fun writing this one. It has fun Dreateam dynamics and then a really intense sex scene and the dichotomy of both of those things in one fic -- and short (for me), at that! impressive. 0 horse mentions.

Circling Back - E - this fic is fun and wild. I got to write co-workers to lovers that is also hidden/secret identity -- and it works! WILD! I re-read this one recently and it stands up. This was originally written for that first fic fest i was talking about and when they changed it for the new boundaries for art, I couldn't have any smut and the whole plot kind of hinged around the smut, so... I decided to just write it as it is. ALSO this is the first fic that Chelsey beta'd, I think. So that's fun! And it was the first fic of the year (not counting Hits Different which wrapped up in January). 0 horse mentions.

Just to do experiments on - E - Yall, if you had told me that I would write tentacle porn, I would have laughed at you. Extra has been trying to get me to write tentacles for YEARS and then it came up on my bingo card and I felt like I finally had to bite the bullet and do it. Except, I actually really love how it turned out? This bingo prompt was tentacles, obviously, but also cursed by a witch. A twofer, if you will. 0 horse mentions.

Let Me Familiarize You - E - here's some Scoops lore. I wrote this fic in two sitting and it is 13K, so that's wild!!! It took me two days in the time after my surgery but before I could go back to work to write this (in between writing the beginnings of Two Fools and another story that I haven't and won't publish lol). Anyway, it's about witch!George accidentally making Patches his familiar and then coming clean to Dream and also his mom is there. And then literally that same day, George dropped a video with his mom. Crazy pants. (or maybe it was the day before when this was all written? Can't remember. Also I was on pain pills). I really like how it turned out. It's a fun premise! 0 horse mentions.

Puzzle pieces in the dead of night - T - another bingo fic, the prompt was pirates. Anyway, I had a BLAST writing this one. Secret identity, kidnapping, munchy mc dynamics, I really like writing action adventurey fics and this one feel right into that category. A fun read, in my opinion. 0 horse mentions.

I’m Having His Baby (No, I’m Not) - E - a bingo fic, the prompt was "mpreg, but abortion" because the person who made the boards *ahem* doesn't like pregnancy stuff and wanted to punish me (lightheartedly lol). Anyway, joke is on her, because I made this into an epic story and I had so much fun writing it. Like, laughing out loud to myself while writing it, which is kinda sad, but is also the point of fanfiction. You have to entertain yourself first and foremost. And also I snuck eventual mpreg in there anyway so haha! for real, though, if you think the premise of this one is weird -- Dream and George accompany Sapnap on a roadtrip to Colorado to get his abortion -- you should try it out anyway. 1 horse mention, and arguably the one that brought it to our good anon's attention.

Anagnorisis - E - speaking of mpreg, LMAOOOOOO. My "I didn't know I was pregnant" AU with Angst and miscommunication and domesticity and last minute flights to London and a baby named after the lead singer of Glass Animals. This fic has a lot! I wrote a lot about the beginning of this fic on Tumblr and kind of how I begin writing fics. Here Anyway, pretty proud of this fic. I had to ask my mom a lot of questions about NICU. 3 horse mentions.

I Am Two Fools - E - every year the last novel length fic of the year seems to be in the top spot. No Exception this year. This fic was very tough to write, but very rewarding. I think it taught me a lot about making sure character motivations are fleshed out and make sense. It, and Anagnorisis, taught me about trusting the reader and dropping hints at things. Yall got So Good at catching hints and making molehills out of anthills, as intended. I took a chance and switched up POV halfway through, which is almost never do. And I think that really helped me stretch my writing muscles as well as all the bingo fics. Very proud of the work I did on this fic. 0 horse mentions.

[memento-morri-writes]

Dream goal is make some progress (any progress, honestly) on a real, true wip that I'm writing completely from scratch. Ideally it would be Divinity WIP, or maybe High Fantasy WIP (they take place in the same world, I'm pretty sure), but at this point I'll take literally anything. As much as I adore my dnd writing, I miss writing a story that is completely 100% my own.

But I really am going to have my work cut out for me. Divinity WIP is currently just a big pile of concepts and themes with no plot or developed characters, and High Fantasy WIP is literally just vibes. I don't even have the faintest idea what kind of characters I want, not to mention the complete and utter lack of any kind of plot whatsoever. So even just doing character work and worldbuilding would be good enough for me, but I'd love to also get the ball rolling on some plot ideas for one or both of these stories...

If I can't manage that, then I'd like to write more of my dnd character snippets, especially ones that aren't just session scene rewrites, be they backstory vignettes, AU / what if things, or just fun little character exploration.

✨ What are your writing goals for 2025? ✨

This can be anything from “write one sentence” to “publish a book!” It’s all valid!

[canirove]

Canary boy | Chapter 1

Summary: Most stories tell you about a normal girl who falls in love with a famous football player. But what if things were the other way around? What if she was the famous football player, and he was just a normal guy? 

Author’s note: I'm back with another Pedri story! 💃🏼 This one has been sitting on my drafts for a while because I wasn't too sure about part of the plot, but after giving it another read, it is finally ready to see the light 😁 I was in the mood to write something simple and just nice to read that, for example, had the same vibes as "Red and blue". A happy story with just some ups and downs and not big dramas. But I don't know if I managed to do it, you can let me know as you read it😅 Unless I'm forgetting someone, except for Fer (Pedri's brother) and Aitana, all the characters are made up and named after people I know in real life or that I follow on social media, so if there happens to be someone somehow related to Pedri in real life with that name, it is just a coincidence. Also the title is like a play on words because in Spanish you use the same word (canario) to talk about a man from the Canary Islands and the animal. I hope you like it, and as always, thank you for reading! 💜

Next chapter (coming out next Tuesday)

Masterlist

“Inés, can I use your phone to call my mum? Mine has run out of battery.”

“Again?” I chuckle, passing it to Carla.

“Yeah… I think I need a new one” she says while typing. “Wait, who is this Pedri you are getting notifications from?”

“What?”

“I just saw an Instagram notification saying that someone called Pedri has posted on his stories.”

“He's no one” I quickly say. “Aren't you going to call your mum? You know she starts getting worried if you don't do it right after a game.”

“She can wait. I, on the other hand, can’t. Who is this guy?” she smirks.

“Carla, stop it” I say, trying to retrieve my phone.

“You are blushing, Inés.”

“I'm not.”

“Yes, you are” she says, still smirking. “Let's see what he has posted, shall we?”

“Carla…”

“He is wishing happy birthday to one of his friends. Or his brother, you don’t know these days since they all call that to each other. But which one is he, the blonde or the brunette one?”

“Brunette. Now give me that” I say, trying to get my phone from her once again and only managing to hit myself with my bus seat. 

“He's cute. Is he someone random you liked or do you know each other?”

“He's a classmate.”

“Uuuh!”

“Carla, lower down your voice!” one of our teammates says from the other side of the bus.

“Sorry!” she replies. “I may have to join you in some of your classes if the guys are this cute.”

“They aren't. Now give me my phone.”

“Does he follow you back?”

“Yes.”

“Does he also like all your photos like you do? Like, wow, Inés” she chuckles. “You do fancy him.”

“I don't, Carla. Now either call your mum, or give me my phone back. I want to take a nap before we make it home.”

“And dream about Pedri?” she teases me while still scrolling on my phone. 

“Carla!” 

“Silence!” another of our teammates says.

“Carla… please” I repeat, this time lower.

“Ok, ok. I'll call my… No!” she gasps. Loudly.

“Girls, I don't know what you are doing over there, but please lower down your voice” Aitana says from the seat behind us. “It's been a tough game and some of us want to sleep.”

“It won't happen again, I promise” Carla says, turning to look at her with her best smile. “But you need to explain to me why the fuck do you fancy a guy who has a girlfriend” she whispers.

“I don't fancy him” I insist.

“Then why do you have his notifications turned on and have liked all his photos, this one wishing his girlfriend a happy anniversary included?”

“Because…” I say, biting my lip.

“Because you fancy him, you idiot” she says, hitting my arm. “Inés, why would you do something like this to yourself?”

“It's just a crush, Carla. Nothing else.”

“It better, because if you are wasting your time with a guy who is taken…”

“I'm not. Now call your mum or give me my phone back.”

“Fine. I'll call her” she says, giving me one last look before closing Instagram and finally calling her mum, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Thoughts about how she is right. About how I do fancy a guy who is taken, and about how I've done it for the past three years. 

When I finished high school my career as a football player hadn't taken off yet, I was still playing for Barça B. And since I didn't know if I would ever make it to the first team or for how long I could live off football, I decided to start studying journalism and have other options for my future. 

It had been during my first day at uni, that I had met Pedri. Not Pedro, no. Pedri (though legally he is called Pedro).

He was sitting a few seats to my right, his Canarian accent making him be the centre of attention while he talked with some of our classmates about the differences between Barcelona and Tenerife, his hometown. And even though back then he looked like a baby since he still hadn't grown a beard, you couldn't deny that he was handsome. If you ask me, he had and still has one of the most perfect side profiles I have ever seen. And his lips… Dear lord. If you Google kissable lips, you will definitely find his photo.

During those first weeks one of our teachers decided to make different work groups so we could get to know each other a bit more, and yes, you've guessed it. Pedri and I were part of the same one. That was how we ended up following each other on Instagram, because we had made a group chat so we all could talk and work on the different assignments. 

At first we didn't say much to each other, I was too shy. I just basically stared at him and giggled like an idiot when he said something funny. But then I made my debut with Barça's first team, and he talked to me. Like, alone, not with our other classmates present.

I still remember the way my heart started beating when he called my name after class and congratulated me, the big smile on his face, and how honestly happy he seemed to be for me. I'm pretty sure that was the moment when I realized that I actually liked him. That I fancied him. And then when we kept talking just the two of us between classes… Well, you can imagine. I was on cloud nine. A cloud that hit the floor and broke into a million pieces when a couple of months later at one of our classmates’ birthday party, I saw him making out with his now girlfriend, making me feel like the biggest idiot ever. 

He had been friendly with me because that was who he was, because he liked meeting new people and getting to know them. But since I am simply stupid, I had thought that he was doing it because he also liked me, because he fancied me. 

After that I started to attend my classes less often and to do most things online because I became part of the first team and didn't have much free time, which led us to stop talking the way we had been. But because like I said, I am simply stupid, I kept liking his posts on Instagram as if nothing had happened. The crush was still there and it wasn't going anywhere. It probably only grew as time passed and he started to look more and more handsome. Which is how I ended up turning on the notifications for his posts. Because I don't want to miss seeing his pretty face since now we only cross paths if I am lucky and can attend some of the most important classes, if we are meeting with the friends we have in common, or during exams season. 

“Inés… Inés!” Carla says, snapping her fingers in front of my face. “Did you fall asleep with your eyes open?”

“What?”

“I was telling you that I was done with my call” she says, giving me my phone back.

“Oh, yes, sorry. I guess I do need that nap” I chuckle.

“Yeah… Now you nap, and tomorrow we go out.”

“Out? Where?”

“Partying, of course” Carla smiles. “We have a couple of days off, which means that we can go out at night and find you a man who isn't taken.”

“Carla…” I sigh.

“No, I'm sorry. It's been decided. We are going out tomorrow, and you aren't going home until you've made out with someone. And hopefully someone blonde and with blue eyes so you won't think you are kissing your classmate. This is operation forget about Pedri.”

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“So you play football for a living?”

“Yep.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Nah, you are messing with me” the guy I'm talking to laughs. “Like, girls who like or play football are either tomboys or lesbians. Or both. Are you a lesbian?”

“What?” I say, almost choking with my drink.

“You definitely don't look like a tomboy, you are hot. So are you a lesbian?”

“I'm straight.”

“Then you definitely are messing with me” he laughs. 

“I… I'm going to the bathroom. Can you hold this for me?” I say, giving him what is left of my drink. 

“Yes, sure. I'll wait for you here” he smiles.

“Umm… yes” I say, turning my back to him and starting to look for Carla among the crowd. Why did I let her take me out tonight? All the guys she's introduced me to and that I've talked with have been so… so… Brainless. I'm pretty sure that if we put them all together, they wouldn't make a brain cell. 

“Carla!” I call when I see her chatting and laughing with a random guy. How does she do it? How is she able to act so natural around men? “Carla, hey!” I wave. But I do it without looking around me, and I end up hitting someone in the head. “Oh my God, I'm so sorry!”

“Don't worry, it's… Inés!”

“Pedri?” I say when the owner of the head I just hit turns around. 

“I didn't expect to see you here!” he smiles.

“Me neither” I reply with a nervous laugh, trying not to stare at him like an idiot. He looks so good tonight.

“Inés, what happened with… you!” Carla says, joining us and pointing at Pedri.

“Me?” he chuckles.

“I know you!”

“Carla, I'm going home” I quickly say before he starts asking uncomfortable questions.

“Already?” she and Pedri say at the same time.

“I'm not used to going out until this late, I'm tired.”

“Oh, c'mon, Inés” Carla pouts. “We just arrived!”

Which is a lie. We've been at this club for the two longest hours of my life.

“I'm sorry.”

“But…”

“Pedri, your… you!” a guy that looks pretty familiar says, now pointing at me. “I know you! You are Inés, Barça's centre-back!”

“I… yes?”

“It's her!” he says, looking at Pedri and giving him one of the drinks he was carrying. 

“It's her, yes. Inés, this is my friend and roommate Mario. Mario, this is Inés.” Oh, so that's why he looked so familiar. He is the guy he is constantly posting things with on Instagram. 

“Can't believe I'm finally meeting you in person!”

“Finally?” I ask with a confused look.

“Pedrito has made me watch all your games for the past couple of years” he laughs, squeezing his friend's shoulder. “But I don't regret it, you girls are amazing. Such a shame you didn't win the last game… It was a tough one.”

“Yeah” I say, my brain stuck on the fact that Pedri has forced his best friend to watch my games. I mean, Barcelona’s. That's what he probably meant, not just mine. 

“At least we didn't lose. I'm Carla, by the way” she says, extending her hand towards Mario.

“Carla López, Barcelona and Spain national team's goalkeeper. A pleasure” he says, kissing her hand and making her giggle. And I know that sound. It is the one she makes when she really likes someone. Great, just great. 

“You know your football” she smiles.

“I do” he smiles back, the way they are looking at each other making this encounter even more uncomfortable and awkward than it already was.

“Anyway, like I was saying, I'm going home” I interrupt them. “So if you'll excuse me…”

“Inés, you can't go home alone and at night. It can be dangerous!” Carla says.

“I'll call an Uber, I'll be fine.”

“That doesn't make it any better.”

“I'll go with her.”

“What?” Carla, Mario and I say at the same time.

“I'll go with her” Pedri repeats. “She's right, going on your own can be dangerous.”

“I… I… I mean, I…”

“But bro, we just arrived. What about your drink?” Mario asks him while I keep mumbling.

“I'll drink it” he shrugs before starting to chug it as if it was water and not alcohol. “Done” he says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and giving the glass back to Mario. “Are you ready, Inés?”

“Uh?” I say, my eyes fixed on his lips and on how they still are a bit wet, making them look even more kissable than they usually are. 

“You wanted to go home, didn't you?” Pedri asks me.

“Yes, I did. Yes.”

“Then let's go. Enjoy the rest of your night, guys. And behave yourself” he says, winking at Mario and making me gasp. 

“Inés… Inés, are you sure about this?” Carla asks me while Pedri and Mario keep teasing each other. “We came here to forget about him, and now you are leaving with him.”

“But as friends. Offering to accompany me home confirms that that's all he wants from me. To be friends.”

“That's him, yes. But what about you?”

“I want the same. Just friends.”

“Inés…”

“Ready?” Pedri asks me, ending our conversation.

“Ready” I smile. 

“Text me once you are home, ok?” Carla tells me, the look on her face letting me know that she doesn't agree with this. 

“I will, I promise. Good night” I say before following Pedri and leaving the club.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Pedri… Pedri, wake up.”

“Uh?”

“You have to wake up, c'mon” I say, running my hand through his hair. 

“No.”

“You have to.”

“Why?”

“Because we just arrived.”

“Urgh” he groans.

“C'mon” I say, touching his hair one last time before unlocking our seatbelts. Because we both still are on the Uber that is taking me home, not waking up together in the same bed, you little dirty minds (I wish that was the case, tho. Wait, who said that?). 

Just five minutes after we had left the club, the alcohol he had drunk in one go had started to affect him, and by the time we were in the car, he was properly drunk. It looked more like I was accompanying him home and not the other way around.

“Where are we?” he says, slowly getting up from my lap. Oh, yes. Because Pedri had decided that the best thing to do, was to take a nap while resting his head on my legs. The most comfortable and soft ones according to what he said a few times before falling asleep.

“My house” I say, opening the car's door. “You were accompanying me, remember?”

“Oh, yes. Yes, yes, yes. I'm a gentleman” he says with a drunken smile.

“You are, yes. Now c'mon” I reply, leaving the car. 

“Fuck!” 

“What happened? Are you ok?” I say, turning around.

“I don't know. I think… shit” he says, looking down at his hand. He's bleeding. “Inés…”

“Is he ok?” the driver says.

“He's… Pedri!” I say, catching him when he starts falling against the car.

“I'm fine, I'm fine” he says, managing to sit down again. “Just not the biggest fan of blood.”

“Should we take him to the hospital? He's gone so pale…” the driver says.

“No, no hospitals. This is nothing” Pedri says. 

“Miss?” the driver asks me.

“I…”

“Please, Inés. It's just a scratch.”

“Ok, fine. But let's get you upstairs before you hurt yourself again.”

“Do you want a hand, miss?” the driver offers. 

“I can do it myself, thank you” I smile. Pedri isn't the biggest guy out there, and after hitting his head he seems to have sobered up a bit, so I think we can make it inside and to the lift. “But you've earned five starts and a big tip.”

“Oh, there is no need, miss. Just doing what anyone else would.”

“I'm not so sure of that. Thank you very much.”

“You're welcome” he says.

“Can you walk?” I ask Pedri once he is standing up again. 

“I can, Inés. Though your arm around my waist will be very welcomed just in case” he smiles.

“Yeah… umm… Ok” I say, doing as he has asked and starting to walk towards my building, his arm around my shoulders. “Comfortable there?” I ask him once we are inside the lift and after a bit of struggle to go up the few stairs in the lobby.

“Yeah” he replies, resting his head against the wall, his eyes closing again. Looks like the sobering up is gone.

“Pedri, don't fall asleep.”

“I'm not. I'm just resting my eyes.”

“Pedri…”

“Is that the tone you use on the pitch to order around?” he smirks, his eyes still closed.

“What?”

“I've seen you. You will be captain one day, Inés. You have what it takes.”

“Yeah, well… Pedri!” I say when the lift stops and he almost falls again. 

“I'm fine, I'm fine” he replies, opening his eyes. With the light inside the lift they look as if the brown had some bits of gold, and they are simply beautiful. 

“Ok, c'mon” I say, putting his arm around my shoulders once again and leaving the lift.

“You have a nice apartment, Inés” he says when we walk in. “Very cosy.”

“Thank you” I reply, trying to close the door and keep him from falling again. He is getting heavier by the second. “Why don't you lay down there while I go get something to clean your wound?”

“My wound?” he asks as he lets himself fall on the sofa.

“You hit your head when you were getting out of the car, remember?”

“Did I?” he says, his eyes already closed. “Oh, yes. I did…”

“Pedri, don't… fall asleep” I say. But he's gone. In just a few seconds, he's completely gone, one arm and one leg hanging from the sofa. “Great” I sigh while putting him in a more comfortable position and covering him with a blanket. Sleeping like that, he looks like a kid, like someone who has never done anything wrong in his life. And I can't help but run my hand through his hair again.

I think he has the softest hair I've ever touched even if now it is a bit sticky around his face because of the sweat and the blood from his wound. A wound that thankfully doesn't look too bad and has stopped bleeding, and that I guess we'll have to take care of tomorrow. “Sweet dreams, Pedri” I whisper, stopping myself when I am about to kiss his forehead. Like, what the fuck, Inés? That's… No. Go to bed. That's what you should do, go to bed too. 

Though falling asleep knowing that I have Pedri, the boy I've had the biggest crush on for the past three years, drunkenly sleeping on my sofa, is gonna be interesting to say the least. And when he wakes up…