#I'm going to cry at the end of this I can feel it already

[pricetagged]

Idk how to label this. Wifehunter John?

The idea of possessive/obsessive John manipulating a situation and stealing a wife for himself struck me, so just coughing the idea up while I sneak away for a coffee before I actually have to start work in 20 mins 💖 entirely unedited, abrupt ending

________

For someone married to his job, he has put quite a bit of thought into what he is looking for in a wife. Namely, that she's already married.

His reasoning is threefold. He can admit to himself, firstly, that it satisfies his need for control. Competency. He's a busy man with a demanding job. Not quite retired yet, no time to build his own from scratch. With this, he gets a wife boxed up and ready-trained. Broken in.

Secondly, the need for control bleeds into his saviour complex. She'll need a shoulder to cry on, someone strong and capable to get her back on her feet. She'll be feeling a little fragile. Needy. Perfect.

And thirdly, it does something wild to his jealous, possessive streak. The idea of taking something precious, of breaking her bond to another man and tying it to him? Delicious. The idea that she used to be someone else's, that he has to imprint himself onto her knowing that in doing so he is erasing the imprint of another man? It has his teeth aching, grinding even as heat rises in his belly. Stirs at him.

The idea swirls lazily in the back of his mind, never quite finding the right time or right partner. He bats at it a few times, lazy cat playing with the notion, seeing how far it can stretch before it snaps. Eyes up pretty things everywhere he goes, glancing down at their left hands just to check, but nothing quite tugs on that string. Until one day it does when he's outfitting the security system at your house.

It's side work. Cash in hand, word of mouth. Something to keep him busy when on mandated leave. Something to keep in mind as his retirement from active duty creeps closer. And your husband is a real piece of work, all blustering braggadocio energy. Young buck, not knowing his place in the herd. Not knowing that he'd be better scratching his antlers off on a tree than going head-to-head with a gristled thing like John.

It's like John's energy, his presence in the house, sends alarm bells ringing in your husband's mind (Be the man. Don't back down. Puff up your chest and strut). And it plays so perfectly into John's hands because your young buck doesn't realise that what he's really doing is fawning. To John. (Look at me, be impressed by me!) He makes his biggest mistake in putting you down in front of him, trying to sidle up to John and create some kind of desperate camaraderie. Ordering you to bring tea to the men at work. Rolling his eyes at your attempts to talk, to ask questions about the work being done. Waving you off so he can stand and watch the proceedings. Like he could supervise. Like he has any clue what he's doing.

Only the promise of the long game keeps John from levelling him with a hard look, from calling him outblike he'd love to.

He hears you both in the in the other room, having swatted the young buck off like a particularly virulent pest. Noisy and bothersome. Not needed - or wanted- in this home. And entirely too stupid to realise that John wasn't being jocular in his dismissal.

You've been scribbling away for the past few days, something occupying your time, keeping you happy and hidden away in the kitchen.

"You're not serious, are you?"

"Well, yes," he hears the slight quaver in your voice before you find your footing. You've got at least a bit of spine. Good. "You said that I should find an occupation. Not just 'laze around the house playing housewife'. This is what I-"

"Oh come on, I didn't mean- You don't think that this is viable, do you?"

"Well... I love gardening. And I'm good at it. And there's no reason that it can't be more accessible for people, especially with the current economic-"

He cuts you off with a scoff. "Dear, just- I don't want you to be disappointed. I think you don't quite understand the time and effort this will take. And you know nothing of marketing, publishing. Why don't you put that away and start on dinner?"

And oh, isn't that delicious. He can taste it now, that idea that has been swirling. It's thick, almost tangible on his tongue. The tension in the house, the bitter lacryma of stifled tears. The slight acidity of words you left unsaid. It has his mouth watering, pupils dilating.

And when he's packing up that evening, tools and materials tucked in to the heavy workman's case, he swings by the kitchen on his way out. Catches the way something is jutting out slightly from the bin, lid slightly askew. When he pulls it out he realises it's some kind of notebook, carefully (lovingly) bound. Pictures pasted, mindmaps and notes and plans scribbled in the margins. Your gardening tips. Kitchen scraps, window boxes, rooftop plots. Urban gardening. It's deeply thoughtful, well researched.

A labour of love, lying in the rubbish.

Sweet, clever little thing. That just won't do.

He leaves your house with a little piece of you tucked away in his toolkit and a nice plan forming. He'll be back, of course, not quite finished with his work. He'd planted a few little links into the system he'd almost installed, projecting not just to the monitor in your home but also in his. Got to keep his eyes on you, keep you safe and cared for in ways that your useless husband can't.

Finding that book was a boon. He'd say it was divinely ordained if he believed in all that. It weighs heavy in his toolbox as he whistles out the door.

Now, how to get you alone and return it to you..

________________

This idea may have been done before? I'm not sure, sorry! I've seen a lot of possessive John floating around. Tagging @stellewriites because I said I would last time, and you've been so encouraging of my nonsense.

Anyway I've got like 4 long-form WIPs that I'm working on, so I may never actually write this one but thought I'd share since that image set I just reblogged made me feral 💖

[ladylokianna]

The nearness of you

The main blame for this one-shot lies entirely to Queen Gorgo and her line "your lips can finish what your fingers have started".

Pairing: Aemond x fem!reader (i'm not used to use the first person p.o.v. mainly because in English i usually mess everything up by trying to fit verb tenses together so i hope everything is comprehensible). 

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Fluff but a little smut towards the end, nothing too explicit 'cause i'm not good at writing it. Fairly ooc Aemond, obviously. But, as I've already said, I really like a softer Aemond, and I like the idea that, with the right person, he would totally show his feelings (after a lot of convincing, of course, as we all know how lacking in affection and love our guy is, and it would take him quite a while before he would let himself go).   

Beta reader: my sister, but like me, she's too obsessed with Aemond and i'm afraid she is not entirely objective. Whatever. Enjoy.

***

Wrapping yourself in your heavy velvet dressing gown, you quickly went back to bed after adding a couple of wooden logs to brighten the fire in the huge fireplace, watching Aemond sleeping peacefully in the dim glow provided by the candles and the burning fire.

He lies prone, his arms folded under the pillow and one leg slightly bent towards the middle of the mattress. His slender body, chiselled by years of training, is relaxed, his features softened.

Despite the fact that the two of you have been married for a long time and that you know every single millimetre of his body, shyness sometimes leads you to blush in front of him, as if you still were the inexperienced young maiden of your wedding night.

You stretch out a hand, at first caressing gently his scarred cheek with the knuckles, paying attention to not hurt his wounded eye, then stroking his head with caring touches, enjoying the sensation of the silky strands between your fingers. He is so distant from the unflattering portrait that your aunt made of him as soon as the news of your betrothal was spreaded through the realm, who depicted Aemond as a "monster ready to feed you to his dragon at his first bad day".

A bit introvert, with a closed-off and apparently unfriendly character, maybe sometimes grumpy but definitely not a monster, Aemond is always caring and gentle with you and the few people he trust and love. Otherwise, you had learnt that his usual demeanour is just a façade, that the real Aemond is the one hanging with you in the library, flying with Vhagar or laying in your marital bed. But all is fine as it is, you surely don't want to change or fix him in any way: after all, what's wrong with him to fix? You love him as he is, and people needs to be loved as they are, not as the world would like them to be.

You move your hand down slowly along his shoulders, feeling under your fingertips the scratches you remember leaving him with the nails during the night, marks that you could find again on his shoulder blades and down his muscular back, on his narrow, jerky hips, marks that goes alongside with older ones earned during his strict sword training. If you close your eyes, you can easily recall the sensation of his muscles moving beneath your touch and the heat of his skin against yours, his hands ceaselessly travelling on your body and his weight as he hold you firmly still against the mattress with the absolute need to feel you trembling beneath him, to hear you screaming his name on each deep and precise thrust of his hips.

Your gaze follows the trail of your nails even further, on the roundness of Aemond's buttocks, on which you suddenly no longer have the courage to stretch your hand, despite the fact that only few hours earlier you had grasped them with all your strength to pull him as closer as possible to your core so he could sink deeper into your walls.

"We'll end up keeping the whole fortress awake... i can stop if it's too much, mh?" he'd chuckled out of the blue, teasing you a little after a loud cry escaped your mouth.

"Don't you dare." was your response, hissed in his ear and making him laugh heartily. "My word, Aemond, if you stop now, i'll make you pay for it."

"Oh, would you? I'm almost tempted to stop right now just to see how you will make me pay for my disobedience."

Shooking your head, with your hand still steady right above the dimples at the bottom of his back, you furtively check if Aemond is still asleep, surrendering to the urge to repeat the same gestures of that night: taking a deep breath, your hand lingered on the smooth skin of his bare ass, savouring that feeling for a while before squeezing it gently.

"Your lips can finish what your fingers have started."

You gasp surprised, blushing like you're again that little girl caught stealing the pastries set to cool in the kitchens of your father's castle, noticing the smirk painted on Aemond's lips and his wonderful eye pointed at you, clearly amused and flattered by your attentions.

"I thought... Gods... i thought you were asleep... how long have you been awake?"

"Hm...a while. Let's say since i felt your fingers on my face." he hummed, noticing your reddened cheeks. "How come that we're married for a long time yet you still blush over me? Oh, look at you... don't be shy, darling. You know you can touch whatever you want, whenever you want."

Blushing was the least of it, since a glance from him was often enough to set you on fire.

"Keep going though, i was enjoying it."

Yeah, of course he was. "What a little rascal you are."

With a wide smile Aemond turns on his back, offering his whole being to your gaze, to your will.

"Come darling, come to me." whispers, stretching his arms towards you and guidind you on top.

His skin felt so familiar and warm it hurt your heart. Moving a little, you adjust yourself on his pelvis before running your hands over him again, and again, and again, until suddenly you can feel his yearning running through his veins like a fire, bringing his blood to the boiling point, flushing his skin: you can sense it by the way his manhood is already leaking against you. With his breathing more strained, Aemond pulls himself up to sit, his muscles tensed at every single touch on his body, letting you taking him again as his hands flattened against your spine, drawing you as closer as possible.

"Don't be shy, you can do what you want to me. I'm yours."

[peppermintquartz]

Buck/Tommy prompt: Tommy finally realizing he *does* have a family with the 118

It's a Thursday afternoon when he dies.

He's not even on shift, that's the thing; he was in the gym training with a friend, and the next thing he knows five masked figures burst in, shouting at everyone to get down to the ground, and he's shielding Jacob when one of them fires a spray in their direction.

The bullets don't land anywhere fatal so he doesn't die immediately, but that means it hurts like a bitch, and he can feel his extremities growing cold. He sees the five gunmen race out the other door. Jacob is panicking, pressing his gym towel on the stomach wound but not exerting enough strength to hold back the blood loss; Lizzie is screaming at someone to hurry; Tommy thinks, Fuck, on the day I beat my personal best too.

His vision is darkening around the edges. Breathing is difficult. Maybe a punctured lung from shrapnel, who knows?

The coroner will, his brain supplies, a joker to the very end.

He hears sirens. Vaguely, he wonders if who's going to tell Evan.

Sorry, baby. Didn't mean to make you cry. Tommy lets go of the vestiges of the breath he's been struggling to hold onto.

"Tommy?" He knows the voice. Wow, God really has a shitty sense of humor. "Tommy!"

At least that's the last thing he'll hear before he dies. Tommy tastes blood in his mouth, and everything stops.

Death, it turns out, is a welcoming silence.

--

He wakes up in fits and starts.

When he is finally, mostly conscious, he feels someone holding his right hand. And there are two people talking.

"...I think he's back with us again," one of the voices say. "Mr Kinard?"

Call me Tommy. Mr Kinard is my asshole dad.

"Tommy?"

Now Tommy smiles. That's the right name. He blinks, each eyelid approximately seven thousand tons. Dimmed lights, two shadowy figures, one in a white coat and the other in navy.

"Guess... G'd dint like... my crack 'bout. Sense of humor."

"What the fuck," says Navy. He scoots closer and Tommy can see his face clearly. Boyishly handsome, with light brown curly hair, a birthmark. Red-rimmed eyes. "Tommy. Tommy, god."

"Hey." He can't remember Navy's name. "Dry."

White Coat hands over a small cup. Navy puts an ice chip on Tommy's lips, and Tommy draws it into his mouth for the relief.

Evan. Not Navy. Evan.

White Coat comes close, and Tommy wants to protest. He wants to hold Evan's hand and kiss his sad little pout away.

"You can do that later when you're better," said White Coat. He shines a light into Tommy's eyes - ow - and taps him in various places, and then it's just Tommy and Evan again.

Evan stands and leans down to kiss Tommy's brow. "Go to sleep. I'll let everyone know you pulled through."

Tommy wants to ask, but sleep pulls him under.

--

They come to visit, singly or in pairs.

"Glad you're still breathing," Eddie says. He sits on the side of the bed. "Chris says that if you die, he'll hit you with his crutches. And they hurt, let me tell you that."

Hen and Karen visit with their kids that same day. Denny asks if Tommy can teach him and Mara to draw. "I liked yours the most of all the art on my cast."

Bobby comes by, scowls at the bland food, and says, "I'm glad you're still with us, kid." Tommy tears up, and allows himself to cry silently. Bobby only holds his hand and pats the back of it.

Donato and Melton come by with a bunch of balloons, all chosen for maximum obnoxiousness. The bright pink and yellow one that proclaims "It's a GIRL!" is Tommy's favorite.

He gives that balloon to Chimney when he comes by, telling him to give it to Jee. Chimney punches the side of Tommy's leg. "Count your lucky stars it isn't Maddie here. They'd never even find your body."

--

Maddie shows up with Evan the day after to take Tommy home to recover from his three bullet wounds.

"Three shots and you only get three days?" Evan is outraged.

"Flesh wounds except for the one through my lower left abdomen," Tommy reminds him, already tired. "Plus, I signed myself out." Then, taking a nervous breath, he says, "Hi Maddie."

Maddie glares at him. "You're lucky I wasn't the one holding the gun."

Tommy winces, ducks his head. "I'm sorry."

Evan rolls his eyes. "Standing right here, Maddie."

"I warned him about breaking your heart," she says grumpily, but she takes the duffel bag of Tommy's stuff.

Tommy leans back in his wheelchair as Evan rolls him out towards freedom. "How much groveling to make to earn your sister's forgiveness?"

"See how long you'll grovel for mine, and multiply that by ten."

"Oh shit."

"...that'd be about half a hour, I guess."

"For you or for her?"

Evan wrinkles his nose at him, but his smile is still sunshine. His hand lands on Tommy's shoulder and squeezes. "You and I need a good talk. And this time, you can't run."

Tommy dares to touch Evan's hand. "Okay."

[zarnzarn]

"Penelope," Odysseus whispers, heartbroken. She cannot stop crying enough to see him, and it makes her cry harder, even as the familiar scent of him moves closer and is followed by his arms around her, holding her up as she falls to pieces.

"I couldn't- I couldn't find-" She gasps for air, desperately hoping no one is around. Grief comes slamming into her like a tidal wave, laying her low with unrelenting memories of the injustice of wanting her husband home the most of anyone in the war and being the only to not get her wish and fear for how her reign would end and all the other feelings she should have gotten over already. "I couldn't find you," she sobs out finally, the words shaking out of her as her shoulders heave.

"Easy, my love, breathe," Odysseus coaxes, picking her up like it was nothing, tilting her at an angle that must be straining his shoulders to let her cling to him tighter. Cry, like it's the first time she realised how her wait had outlasted their marriage, where cannot breathe in for how hard she weeps, lungs burning. "Peace. I'm here, my darling, see, would a shade be able to do this?"

A choked, teary laugh is forced out of her as he spins on his heel suddenly, stopping her sobs with the momentum, leaving her gasping for breath and sniffing, shaking like a beaten dog, out in the rain. Alone and pawing at the memories of a warm hearth, with a pack's responsibilities on her shoulders and nowhere to set it down.

"See, now, there you go, drifting away again," Odysseus chides, twirling them both around once more, fast enough to make her half-squeal. "Am I so boring to you, compared to the mamba's nest of statespeople you have toyed with these long years? Must I put on a silly costume and dance around as entertainment, my dearest, tell you jokes and riddles to keep your attention? You wound me if you say yes, for I will lose the little respect our son still has for me."

She laughs wetly again at his chatter, the tempest in her head fading enough for the sobs to go from wailing to crying.

"Penelope," Odysseus sings her name in that strange way that sounds oddly like an owl's call, that no one can replicate. The chains around his feet jangle, a familiar sound she has trained herself into associating with her husband. She blinks the tears from her eyes, calming a little at the sound so she can see him. He clicks his tongue and wipes her tears away by rubbing their cheeks together, making her burst into choked giggles.

They don't last long, and she returns back to gasping for air as she runs out of energy, trembling.

Odysseus sighs, bittersweet, as he gives up on trying to make her laugh. Penelope sniffs, clinging on tight when she's suddenly lowered into soft sheets. "I'm here," He whispers, stroking her hair, letting her dig her nails in. "Oh, my poor beautiful wife. I'm back now. I would not leave for anything."

"I couldn't find you," Penelope whispers, small and scared. "I was calling for you from the door and there was no answer. I couldn't hear the chains. And no one knew where you were."

"All those who knew were with me, which won't happen again. I was only out at the merchants to see the new cloth with Tele," Odysseus murmurs. "Darling-"

"I cannot let go of the fear," She confesses in a rush. Closes her eyes and rocks them back and forth, trying to bury her face into Odysseus' shoulder and disappear into him. "Don't know how to convince myself that you are not an illusion. How to stop missing you, even when you are right in front of me. That I will wake up and still have to do it all alone."

Odysseus pulls back and stares at her, devastated, tears in his eyes. He opens his mouth and shuts it, helplessly. "Sweetest of my heart," he says finally, and lowers himself down on top of her so she can feel the full weight of him, smell his sweat and the ointment he applies on his scars and the juices of the fruit he fed her that morning by hand.

(Telemachus had sighed the sigh of the long-suffering when he took his seat next to them that morning for breakfast. "Must you?"

"Must we what?" Penelope had teased, and then opened her mouth for another fruit from her husband's hand, who was hiding a laugh in her hair, perched on her lap, his chair knocked to the side and lying sadly on the floor.

Telemachus shook his head, mock-disappointed and sighed louder.

"Come," Odysseus had said, patting his own lap. "Here, Tele, I will feed you too. Come."

"I'm not a dog," Telemachus had complained, over Penelope's sudden protests about not agreeing to this- and then came over and jumped up into Odysseus' grasp anyway, making Penelope yell at the sudden weight and her two rascals cackle at her.)

"Odysseus," She whispers as she exhausts of her crying and interspersing sobs an hour later, letting it curl on her tongue. She had stopped saying it, when the looks around her transformed from sympathy to concern over her sanity, and it became a political decision to not say her husband's name until he returned.

"Penelope," He returns, tightening his arms around her until her ribs creak. She sometimes wishes he were a violent man, that war had changed him enough to be rough with her, so she would have bruises to carry around to remind her he was there with her. But if he was, would she love him still?

"Give me something," She begs. She feels incredibly small and stupid, shaking like a child, and it is the only the fact that her real husband wouldn't falter or recoil in the face of her weaknesses and breakdowns that keeps her talking. "Something to prove you're here, please, please, husband-"

"Peace, Penelope," Odysseus says, in a voice sterner than he's ever used with her; the one he uses in court, making her stomach swoop. He moves back when he feels her tense under her, and studies her expression with a sharp eye. She loves him more than anything, would gladly slit open her torso to give him her innards if he so much as implied a passing fancy to having them, but even that isn't enough to fend off the slight bloom of mortification when realisation flashes across his eyes.

He kisses her, harder than usual, and she tries to focus on it rather than her still-racing thoughts.

"You are no longer Queen of Ithaka," Odysseus says, low and final, and the horrifying shock of the sentence nearly makes her moan. "Not in this room. You have held the burden of the kingdom for fifteen long years, and now you will let me make you put it down."

"No," Penelope protests, between kisses. She is still coming down from the fear planted in her by all the strong women that buoyed her these years, who grimly predicted that her husband would snatch the throne back as soon as he returned, coupled with the guilty relief that she no longer had to be in charge, no matter that it was by force. "I love her. My Ithaka. Rough and beautiful."

Odysseus huffs, smiling against her skin. "She loves you too. Which is why you must listen to her beckoning for you to rest." He punctuates his sentence by pressing down on her stomach, entire body weight on his hands as he drags his palms up her abdomen, between her breasts, up to her shoulders. "Relax, Penny. The kingdom wants for nothing, food is overabundant, no one fights, no ruler gives us trouble. You do not have to hold everything together on your own anymore."

Penelope snorts. "Ithaka says so, does she?"

"Am I not Ithaka?" Odysseus says, voice twisting and changing until it sounds like a woman speaking. Penelope is hit sideways by lust, stomach flipping at the smirk sent her way. It gets wider at her expression, as he leans down and croons, "Penelope."

"Oh, gods," Penelope says, strangled, bracing herself on his shoulders.

"Give you something," Odysseus muses, in that same voice, that lights on fire the part of her that used to be obsessed with the stable master's daughter. "How about..."

He picks up her hand and kisses her wrist gently, tenderly, like it is the most delicate of pottery, the most precious of gems. He rubs a hand over her veins once lovingly, then fits his teeth around them, eyes flashing with heat as he glances over her.

Her heart skips a beat. She nods. He bites down with canines sharper than he'd left with and she screams.

"Oh," She gasps when it's done, looking at the bleeding wound lovingly marked around her pulsepoint. Her husband tips her chin up and she smiles finally, stretching up to meet his bloody kiss. "Oh, more. More, Ody."

"As my wife desires," He murmurs, possessiveness catching fire in his eyes as he turns to set his teeth to his neck- still not violent, but perhaps the slightest bit loosened from the leash.

Penelope moans, vision hazy as her head rolls, staring up at the ceiling. She takes a deep breath, then another, letting the panic recede in the face of a daydream of wandering around with a necklace of bruises every day, until they grow old.

He always knows how to handle her so well. She had begun to think she'd imagined it, how well the man she married had met her at every turn, every trick. Yet only a few months in his return and still he guides her expertly from all the bad things in life like a sheepdog, like an overanxious newlywed; some days making her so happy that the fifteen years past had never happened.

"You will look at these and remember no one else could leave them but me," Odysseus orders, the sneer of the rabid slaughterer in his gaze. It makes all the tension seep out of her, tears escaping in relief as she nods. "And I won't go out of earshot ever again, so you always can hear how you've chained your poor husband down like a mule, forever to trip over his own feet and smash into the floor."

"Chained you like a bird," Penelope corrects, her smug, thrilled smile returning at the reminder, reaching down to shorten the chain. "No more flying for you."

"None," He agrees.

Her smile wavers as the tail end of her grief comes sliding back. "Hold me?"

"Forever and ever and ever," He promises, wrapping his hands around her. She shakes in his hold. He kisses the side of her head, holding his wrist still scarred with her own teethmarks up to her lips in offering. Her eyes roll back as the familiar blood rolls over her tongue, calming the storm in her chest at last. He pulls his hand back and cards it through her hair, pulling out all the ornaments that mark her as Queen, staining them with blood. "I promise. Calm, Penelope."

"I'm calm," She sniffs wetly. "I wouldn't do it for anyone but you."

"Neither would I," Odysseus replies. "Would you like to have sex? I can please you with my mouth if you want."

Penelope snorts ungracefully at the formal way he still says it, like it's an offer to go fetch something from the kitchens. "No. Just hold me."

Odysseus murmurs something in response and starts humming, rocking then back and forth. Blood on both their mouths still.

"Actually-" Penelope says abruptly, and Odysseus bursts into laughter like she knew he would. She smiles at the sound, and closes her eyes to bathe in it, and carefully brings herself to take the first step to trusting that he will still be there when she opens them.

[taojjang]

riize when you're on your period ✮⋆˙

pairing: bf!riize x fem!reader, genre: fluff (tiny bit of crack idk), warnings: menstrual cycle, blood, medication

♡⸝⸝ how he'd spoil you rotten during that time of the month

shotaro . . .

◦ oh how sweet he'd be :(

◦ taro is always the sweetest to you, treating you like a princess every waking moment of your life.

◦ but when you're on your period, he does everything in his power to lift your spirits and make you feel better.

◦ he wouldn't shy away from buying your feminine hygiene products! a real man, we love to see it!

◦ he'd be at your house every day, calling you beforehand to ask if you need him to get something for you.

◦ even if you say no, he'll never arrive empty-handed. he'll bring your favorite ice cream and maybe even a new teddy bear!

★ - "i'm sorry you're having a tough time, honey... is there anything i can do for you?"

eunseok . . .

◦ not a single day goes by where eunseok isn't spoiling you, waiting for your every request

◦ nothing changes during this time of the month; your caring boyfriend still stopping at nothing to make your life as easy as it can be.

◦ the only difference is that he'd never leave your side for even a second.

◦ he'd be sat beside you stroking your hair, occasionally checking to see if you're in pain or need anything from him.

◦ in the morning he'd ask you what you feel like eating so he can plan out today's meals, always ensuring his baby is happy and well-fed </3

◦ once he notices even a small wince from you, he wastes no time, rushing to grab a hot pack and leaving soothing kisses on your forehead.

★ - "i know it hurts, darling, i'm sorry. i'll take care of it, i promise."

sungchan . . .

◦ your cuddle buddy!

◦ whenever it's that time of the month, really all he wants to do is scoop you up in his arms and hug all of the pain away :( ... which conveniently works!

◦ when you're experiencing cramps, sungchan is always beside you, gently rubbing your tummy. he holds you delicately in his arms as if you'd shatter with too rough of a touch.

◦ his large, warm hands work wonders for your minor cramps and he knows that, so he never stays far from you in case you need him.

◦ but when your cramps are intense, sungchan always feels so sad and helpless :( he frantically researches remedies while you curl up in his lap, crying against his chest.

◦ he wipes your tears and kisses their trails, trying his best to soothe you in any way possible.

★ - "i'm so sorry, princess... the medicine should be kicking in any second now. should we try to take a nap?"

wonbin . . .

◦ a clueless cutie (・・ ) ?

◦ he'd be helplessly sitting beside you, too scared to touch you in fears of hurting you even more.

◦ nevertheless, he'd still be layering you with blankets and googling how to help his suffering gf (he's a loser and you love him!)

◦ in the end, he asks you to tell him whatever it is that you need, but all you want is cuddles and snacks :( so ofc he delivers!

◦ he'd order a bunch of your favorite snacks and find a good movie to watch

◦ would put on a comedy but laughing hurts your stomach so you watch a sappy romance instead, aaaand now he's stuck wiping your tears while you ugly cry over some cliche movie...!

★ - "you're such a crybaby. come here, let me kiss you."

seunghan . . .

◦ the way he treats you when you're on your period alone is already grounds for marriage

◦ seunghan would cater to your every need— buying your hygiene products, running errands, completing house chores, shit maybe even doing homework for you

◦ he just can't see his baby in pain :(

◦ the second you're leaning over in pain, he's running over to hug you probably with tears in his eyes

◦ every little flinch and he's asking if you need to go to the hospital

◦ he's the most caring boy in the world and he'd do anything for you <3

★ - "i'm sorry it hurts so much, angel... but i'm so proud of you, you know that?"

sohee . . .

◦ sohee would wear a stoic and confident act, but the poor boy is just a confused, scared, anxious little dude...

◦ he would be less clingy than the other members but would still travel lengths to make you feel better.

◦ sohee would work on lifting your spirits! he'd love to pick up food from your favorite restaurant and eat with you :3

◦ he'd do anything to make you smile— often ordering frozen yogurt at 2am and watching naruto until sunrise

◦ he knows how excruciating your menstrual cycle is, so he does everything in his power to make you happy even if its just for a split second.

◦ he's just your little ball of sunshine <3

★ - "i know it hurts, pretty girl... how about i order froyo? would that take your mind off of it..?"

anton . . .

◦ GOD SAVE THIS POOR BOY

◦ he is just about as emotionally drained as you are...

◦ every time you'd whine in pain, he'd hold you close to him and cry with you, constantly whispering apologies and comforting words.

◦ he goes out to buy your hygiene products but probably ends up calling you to tell him which one to buy... poor boy is super shy but he reminds himself it's for your girlfriend!

◦ he probably asks you questions about your period so he can become more prepared and knowledgeable, but you're not in the mood to talk so you end up cuddling instead (◡﹏◡)

◦ you lie cuddled up against his chest as he strokes your hair with one hand and rests the other on your lower back, soaking in each others' presence.

★ - "you're so admirable, my love. you're doing so well."

[romana-after-dark]

heyaa!! for your follower fundraiser game i have found 4 titles!! (i hope im doing this right)

ghost of you (5sos), yellow (coldplay), apple (charlie xcx), and burn (ellie goulding)

if i got all those correctly, can i request for Logan howlett please? i would love anything dark about him. thank you!!

Hi Hi Hi!!!!!

Roman's 1000 follower fundraiser game

Thanks so much for playing! ghost of you is actually from MCR, and Apple came out (i think?) after Apple did, but yes to the other two!

thats 200 words for you, and $2 to smile train! After writing, this still ended up 550 words lol

Here is some dark Logan for you! I expanded on dacryphelia logan I did months ago

Let it Out

Logan Howlett x gn!reader

Main Masterlist : Logan Masterlist

Follow @romana-updates and click follow, join my tumblr community or ask to join the tag list to keep up!

Buy Me A Coffee : Kofi : Go Fund Me

Summary: You're crying to Logan about your family rejecting you as a mutant. Logan isn't helping.

Warning: Dacryphelia, maybe some trauma kink? But shes not talking about sa or anything. jerking off subtly. Nothing sexual really happens to reader. mentions of family not accepting reader as a mutant, (lgbt allegory?) Logan doesn't non con or anything but she's not consenting to what he's doing, even if they are mostly unaware. He's kinda goofy and silly in this one I won't lie.

******

"I just don't understand, I'm their child!" You sob onto Logan's plain white T-shirt as the two of you sit on the couch. Love is Blind is forgotten in the background, your attempts to reach out to your parents after years of rejection leaving you a sobbing mess.

Unfortunately, the sight of you had him rock hard in his pants. It wasn't his fault, really! He can't control when he gets a raging erection. He can't control that he gets it while you cry against his shoulder, so vulnerable and trusting...

Your parents had rebuffed your latest attempt to reach out, rejecting you for being a mutant and you were distraught, no reason for him to get bricked up on a Tuesday afternoon. And yet. here he was.

He needed to take care of business before you noticed he was hard. Logan reached down, rubbing his aching cock as his other hand cradled your head, trying to be comforting but also kinda holding you there.

"I know baby, I know... I sorry..." His voice hitched a little bit when his palm ram down the length of him, full pressure, trying to make himself cum in his pants as quick as possible. He glided over himself, feeling cock desperately twitching in his jeans, begging for your mouth as salty tears ran down...

"He was never there for me, I think he kn-knew something was wrong with me even before my mutation showed..."

Faster, harder. Logan's breathing grew a little ragged as his release neared, getting harder by the second when he could feel your tears on his peck. "It's not fair. He was always gonna b-be mad at you, no matter what you were... hmm..."

"Lo, are you okay?" You tried to lift your head up to look at you, but he holds you down shushing your worries in a strained voice.

"Don't worry bought me baby, just m'old bones creaking. Just let it out." I'm so close... he thought to himself. Part of him wanted to drag it out, relish in the pleasure of how good your voice felt crying to him, his own hand making himself feel good... but you were already calming down. He needed to make this quick. He needed to egg you on a bit. "I mean, he tried to kick you out even before they knew you were a mutant."

Bringing up this trauma caused a fresh bought of tears from you, leaving you wracked in sobs in his arms.

Rubbing himself quickly, Logan bit his lip HARD as he came, stifling the moan but not his abs flexing in the process. Warm filled his leg and he felt embarrassed, wondering how he was going to get out of this was a wet spot now. Oh well, a problem for Logan a few hours from now, not for Logan now. Now, he revealed in his release, the ache releaving as he stroked out every last drop he had in an attempt to prevent his short refractory period from causing issues again.

Now Logan had his baby in his arms and could relax and try to make her feel better.

"It's okay sweetheart... I'm here for you now."

***********************

@tomhockstetter7-111 @hornystan @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @del-ightfulling @madamerubrum @journal3sposts @and-claudia @yeaiamme2 @xoxabs88xox

[anomaly-076]

Tkdb characters comforting you after finding you having a mental breakdown

‎‧₊˚���Masterlist✿˚₊‧

♦ I've been writing a bullet-point HC style a lot recently so I decided to switch it up ^^ Reader and the character are written as friends, but can be read as dating (or more ;))... [Apologies for the differences in length, but some scenarios just came out that way U.U]♦

Characters: Alan, Sho, Haru, Haku, Jiro, Professor Dante, + a bonus secret character :D

    ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

Alan quietly enters your room to see you angrily pacing back and forth, dodging some flying object by mere inches you angrily threw without a care for where it would hit and land.

"Hey, everything okay?"

You head snaps in his direction. Angry stare ready to scorch your intruder not softening even after realizing it was just Alan. Normally you might be able to snap out of your on edge state, but not right now.

"Everything okay? You wanna know what's not okay? I'll tell you... Every. Fucking. Thing!" you spit into his face, getting so up close you can smell the sweat mixed with motor oil that seems to follow Alan everywhere.

If it were any other Vagastrom student, they'd be already thrown across the room, but in your case, Alan is even too stunned to consider that an option. This is the first time Alan sees you ready to set stuff ablaze with your sight alone. He's sure that if your stigma were related to fire, the whole dorm would be on fire.

"Hey now..." Alan finally says something after a few seconds of returning your intense eye-contact.

You don't answer and instead turn on your heel and kick something out of your way as you stomp to sit on your bed.

Only now does Alan have the chance to look around. The walls are dented more than they were before, there's pages torn from a notebook scattered all over the floor and all your stuff is a complete mess, indicating that your rampage has been going on for a quite long time.

A shaky breath coming from your slumped form draws his attention back to you. Are... Are you crying?

Alan is still unmoved from his position at the door. A weird feeling washes over him as he sees you bury your head in your hands and slide them up into your hair to pull on it. Your torso folds forward to dangle between your spread legs as you start to let out breathy sobs.

He's unsure of what to do. He's never been one to deal with emotions, let alone help someone else deal with them. A slight panic starts to take over him.

Then, as if his body moved on its own, Alan finds himself crossing the mess of a floor, stepping over anything scattered there, to sit next to you on your bed.

"Hey..." he tries to say as softly and compassionate as he's able to, but you either don't hear him or pay any attention to him.

"Hey." Alan says again, this time louder and tries to bring you back to reality by running his palm down your back.

You finally seem to snap out of the worst and your torso slightly rises for you to look at Alan from the side of your tear-filled eye.

"Hey, c'mon..." it comes out as another attempt from Alan to comfort you, but in reality he's begging for you to stop. Your crying makes something inside him feel bad, almost painful and he's begging you to stop crying so the unpleasant feeling goes away.

And you wish you could stop, but the tears just keep on coming and there's no stopping. You just shake your head and look back down on the floor, but you do try to control your sobs and reduce them to mere hiccups.

"I... S-something bothering you?" Alan is unsure how to talk to you without making your situation worse again. To him, it feels like most things he'd try to say will end up being the wrong choice.

Thankfully, you fully rise back up with a sigh and look at Alan with now fully red and puffy eyes, heavy with exhaustion.

"I'm just so fed up and tired with everything..." your voice is shaky and coarse like you've spent the better part of the past our angrily half screaming to yourself (which you did and Leo, being Leo, overheard it and sent Alan to investigate).

"Hey, I'm here... You can talk... or... not..." Alan trails off. In talking about feelings he's even more helpless than at consoling someone. So he just awkwardly puts his hand around you and pulls his closer to him so your sides are touching.

  ⋆˚✿˖°

"Hey Y/N, I got my R&R approved. You wanna go for a dri- huh?" Sho walks into your room without knocking, like he usually does, but immediately stops in his tracks once he doesn't see you any of your usual activities you'd normally do at this time. His eyes scan the room until they land on your curled up form in a corner of your room, whimpering.

"Woah... Y/N, you with me here?" he quickly makes his way towards you and falls to his knees right in front of you. From the state you're in, he's unable to tell what is actually wrong and the only way he can find out what, is by you telling him.

Your head pick up to reveal an empty stare, void of any spark of emotion, and Sho immediately understands.

"Hey now..." he pries your hands off your legs from clutching them close to your chest. His strong hands spread your legs apart to pull you into his lap and hold you against his chest, cradling you.

Reluctantly, you hands wrap around Sho's back, returning his close embrace as you hide your face in his neck. The smell of cologne and the food from his truck hits your nose and comforts you to some degree.

As his own hands roam over your back, Sho hums softly and nuzzles his head against yours. Originally, he wanted to go visit some new bike parts place since he finally managed to get approval to leave Darkwick, but now he's more than anything interested in making sure you're okay.

In his head he's already coming up with a list of stuff that you might wanna do to make you feel better from what he remembers you told him you liked. Thankfully Leo's R&R was approved too, so he won't barge in on the two of you. Sho or you wouldn't hear the end of it.

  ⋆˚✿˖°

Everything is loud. So loud. Too loud!

The sound of animals in their pens. Ren watching some movie or playing one of his games and complaining about Haru. Someone's footsteps outside your door in the common room. The banging of pots and pans in the kitchen. And the there's that damn scratching of something against a piece of wood!

That sound is about to drive you crazy in your frantic, borderline panic attack state. There's a slight pounding in your head and your breath is quick as you pace around your room like and animal in a tiny cage.

Oh great... Now the footsteps are getting louder. Just what you need...

"What is it Peekaboo? Hm?... Oh!" you can hear Haru's voice from the other side of your door shortly followed by brisk knocks on your door.

"Kinda busy..." your response comes out as a low growl, similar to some of the anomalies in Jabberwock's care.

"Ah... But Y/N, Peekaboo is worried. He says you've been walking around like that for a while now. Don't your feet hurt?" with your eyes trained on the door now, you can see the handle move as Haru tries to open the door. Luckily you locked it while your hands were still able to not shake as much as they do right now.

You ignore Haru's worried question and growl to yourself instead. He's always so cheery, it annoys you to no end right now.

Your door flies open and stops you dead in your tracks. Of course, you should've known that locks won't stop Haru.

A flock of anomalous animals flood into your room through the now open door with Haru standing in them.

"Y/N!"he exclaims in dismay upon seeing the state you're in. All the animals are around you. Some are jumping up at you and some are biting your ankles as a sign of affection, all trying to cheer you up, able to feel the mood you're in.

"Boo..." Peekaboo silently chirps in, echoing Haru's tone of voice. If you were able to look closer, you'd be able to notice he's got tears in his eyes.

"Y/N! Are you okay?" as Haru approaches you, the animals around you scatter away from you, giving him more space to assess your state.

"I- I'on... S'-s'just... Guess... I j-just..." you struggle to formulate your thoughts. They're racing too fast to be able to catch just one of them.

"Hey, hey, hey, slow down Y/N. Just breathe..." Haru guides you to sit down of the ground and takes a deep breath with you.

"Focus on me and breathe, okay?" his voice is gentle, very different from his usual demeanor while trying to advertise capybus tours.

As Haru talks you down from your frantic state and helps you breathe your way through, the animals come and join you, some trying to calm you in their own way and some resorting to just taking a nap around you.

  ⋆˚✿˖°

You've been working on your project for so long and now you're just going to ruin it with your tears. Great. Just another thing to make your mood worse. This project has been taking so much out of you, you don't even want to finish it.

"Mental health check!" Haku hums, peaking into your room. You've told him about your project and how much it's driving you insane, so he's been checking in on you the whole time.

After seeing you openly sobbing above your project you'd worked so hard on already, he's quick to slip into your room and move it away from you so you don't ruin it any further.

Before you're even aware of his presence over your tears, Haku is already picking you up and carrying you to your bed. After getting on it himself, he positions you in his lap, facing away from your desk, which would remind you of that mess that's been ruining your life for the past month or so.

"Aw, come on now... You're doing a great job. I'm really excited for it to be done and I know it'll be amazing just like everything else you've done." Haku tries to calm you down as one of his hands strokes your cheek.

"B-but i-it's not w-working... I-it sh-should, but isn't..." you sob and your upper body threatens to collapse onto Haku from the strength of them.

"Hey... Hey..." Haku brings his other hand to pick up your face and look at him, "It will work, you just need to take a break."

"N-no, it w-won't... I-i've bee working on it fo-for so long and it just won't... I'll just ha-have to cancel the-"

"No, please don't do that... I'll help you. We're all so looking for you to get it out there..." Haku tries to wipe the tears off your cheeks, but another ones are soon flowing down again.

You shake your head and start trying to turn around to look at you project again. Haku stops you and meekly smiles at you.

"Let me tell tell you what... We go out, have some ice-cream, hang out and maybe watch something in my room and then tomorrow I'll have a look at it and see what we can do... Okay?"

  ⋆˚✿˖°

"Y/N, hello?" a tired voice calls out to you.

You don't have to turn around to be able to tell it's Jiro.

"Y/N, you were supposed to come in today for a checkup so Yuri sent me for you."

You're still unmoving, just laying on your bed, on your cover and staring at the blank wall in front of you.

"Y/N?" Jiro approaches your bed and touches your arm.

You're still dressed in your dorm uniform despite it being a good few hours since your classes ended and you were allowed to change.

Jiro's gloved hand sneaks up to your neck, his two fingers searching around for a pulse point.

"What are you doing?" you say with a flat voice, almost like you're not fully present, but you sadly are.

"Making sure you're alive. Your catatonia and lack of response worried me."

You don't even answer and only hum in acknowledgement.

Jiro sighs and sits on your bed, inspecting your state.

Despite being a medical student, his studies sometimes included a psychological aspects. Based on them, Jiro was able to determine that your state must've been caused by some severe distress, forcing your brain to shut down and fully detach from reality in order to cope.

Sadly, no treatment came to his mind, so Jiro just kicks off his shoes and lies down behind you and throws his arm around your waist.

Hopefully his closeness can make you feel better. If not, he'll have to call Yuri, but now he wants to try and be there for you alone.

  ⋆˚✿˖°

Dante could swear he turned all the lights off in his private library, but apparently one of them was still on. It was always such a pain when he had to go back somewhere because of his disability.

With a sigh he opens the heavy door to find you surrounded by some of his books. You're frantically reading the contents of one of them and scribbling something on a paper next to it.

"Ah, Y/N. Isn't it rather late to be researching?"

Dante's sudden presence startles you and as you quickly move to face him, you accidentally knock over the book you were reading.

"Dante, sorry, you've startled me." you sheepishly admit, trying to hide how anxious you are.

"Tell me, what could possibly be so important at this hour, dear?" Dante is faster than you and pushes himself forward to pick up the fallen book.

You take a deep breath to seem like you have it all together, but you can't, "I couldn't sleep. My mind's just filled with all these horrible what-ifs and I couldn't stop them so I thought that maybe if I knew what to do, it would help."

"And what are these what-ifs about, Y/N?" Dante's expression softens.

"I don't know... Everything."

Dante sighs and starts pushing his wheelchair towards the sofa in the middle of the room, "Although I do believe that problems should be faced head on, perhaps you'd prefer if I read your favorite book to you as a distraction?"

  ⋆˚✿˖°

⋆˚࿔ Secret character 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

"Tough day?" a smooth voice interrupts your thoughts as you absentmindedly pet one of the mail cats, staring off into a space.

"Yeah..."

"Now what could worry a pretty little head like yours?" the owner of the voice comes closer and sits down next to you on the bench.

Your eyes are glossed over with tears so the stranger next to you only looks like a dark-grey smudge.

"Do you know what helps me, while I'm feeling down?... There's this kid, Rui, and he has all of these amazing drinks that taste like alcohol but aren't..."

"I-i know..."

"Hey, maybe if you're down, we could go together right now since my shift's ended."

"Nah thanks..."

"Oh, it's Elias, sweetheart."

[rhinocio]

That long reply post you made to the post about commenting on art you love really explained a lot and I was wondering if you had any ideas of maybe a line or two I could put after my fics to tell people that I want them to be weird on main and encourage them to keysmash in my comments. You’re right, some of the best comments I’ve ever gotten were keysmashes, screams, and curse words.

Thank you for writing all of that.

Heck yeah, dude! I get the sense that folks who are used to transactional internet culture are extremely nervous about putting themselves out there, even when prompted, so the key to encouraging interaction is to encourage it repeatedly, and everywhere you can.

Personally, I headline all my AO3 fics with, "Comments, critiques, and keysmashes are always welcome and encouraged!" If you're in a smaller fandom, writing about a more commonly-beloathed ship/concept, or just get the sense your readerbase might be especially young or shy (or both), then adding reassurances like, "I'm a super chill person, I love when people go feral in the comments, long strings of AAAAAAAA are fantastic, I promise I'll be thanking you if you point out spelling mistakes, etc" will go a long way.

(Honestly, the text you've sent me is already great! "I love when my readers are weird on main; some of my best fic comments ever have been keysmashes and screaming. Please come at me with your most unhinged commentary! And chill commentary too lol. Both are good."

Tangential thought: you could probably do like the social media scrubs do and give your readers a prompt. "If you made it to the end of the chapter without crying drop a comfort food emoji in the comments for all the rest of the readers who did!🍪" Feels a little less personal to me, but also we gotta adapt-overcome-innovate, and this kind of familiar language / scripting might make it easier for younger readers to involve themselves.)

Also! Reply to comments! When I first started writing on AO3 I was leery of messing with the stats on my fic listings, but frankly, making your comment section a fun place to be is so much more important than the numbers. If you make an effort to reply even to the comments that are just single emoji, you earn reader trust. Folks can get a sense of your personality and vibe by reading through the comment section, and start to believe you want them there, when even their "<3" gets a "Hey [name], good to see you again! Thanks for showing your love!"

tldr capitalism is a fuck and made the internet scary so you gotta treat your fandom brethren like the skittish creechurs they've been bullied into being

[sabine-smitten-obviously]

And YOU will feel healed of the last 15

... when you read this fic. That is, as long as you suffered from an abandonement wound like i did.

Ello lovelies, i have another wonderful fanfic-rec for you! 🤓

But you are an ocean by @ineffably-good

Coverart by @ineffableclassics

What it is about:

After Aziraphale's defection, Crowley tries to figure out how to live life for himself.

Notes:

Ok so, the end of season two broke me. Figured I was maybe done writing stories about these two after that. And yet, several hours later, a sentence appeared in my head, and then this happened. Guessing at chapter totals… I'm finding I like the idea of Crowley going off in a different direction than what I'd initially expect. Not just raging, not sleeping for a century, but actually trying to move on. And why the hell shouldn't he just move to the South Downs by himself? So here we are.

What i like about it:

🩷This fic doesn´t jump in on pushing the story - their story - forward. Instead it goes a totally different path. A quite big part of it is dedicated to Crowley mending the pieces of his broken heart. It´s endearing, it´s breathtaking and it will have you cry. Not only for Crowley but for every single person who ever had to endure heartbreak.

🩷Fun fact no.1: in real life I am a relationship-coach specialised in toxic relationships and heartbreak. And the way Crowley´s heartbreak is described couldn´t be any more accurate. Every thought, every pain, every action he takes, the strength it costs him, the weight of it all - its written absolutely to the point. I could have copied several pages for the "most beloved quote".

🩷So Crowley tries to build a life for himself. Not just living without the angel and rotting in a pit, but really trying to carve out a nice little existence for himself. He is doing his work, he is healing and you can follow along with him, as he learns to build at least new "friendships" - though he would never call it that himself, thanks a lot.

🩷This healing-journey takes quite some time and somewhere in the middle of it i started to think - he could do it. He COULD heal his hurt, mourn the loss and still somehow at least live a life on his own. Maybe feeling the missing part of himself for the rest of his existence, but not being miserable about it the whole time. And that is a thought - a wish - i would have for my dark angel.

I could see him living that life and at one point i almost thought - i would love to see how that would´ve played out for him. A life without Aziraphale. What connections would Crowley have made? How would he have coped with the loss of those humanly connections lifespan after lifespan? Would he have relocated each century? Would he have moved to Australia and learned surfing at one time? Would he have become a timelord and travelled - i mean seriously, Crowley could do that probably?

But you, my dear, are an ocean.

And oceans are ancient

And can survive everything,

Even the wrath of weather and planets.

-- Nikita Gill

SPOILERS AHEAD - if you don´t want to know the plot, stop reading here.

Stop reading if you dont want spoilers!

Ok - you´ve been warned! Here we go: 🤗

🩷Fun fact no.2: I actually downloaded this fic some time ago but had another fic in mind i wanted to start next. So after i finished the last one (also really brilliant, i wrote a rec on it too), i started my e-reader the next day, THIS fic was already open instead on page 1. Huh?

I have absolutely no idea how this is possible, but i DO believe in hints-of-the-universe. Or little demonic miracles on their own. Because i needed this fic.

🩷Because of course - this is a Good Omens fanfic and eventually the other angel arrives. And without giving away to much: Aziraphale has to fight for Crowley. A long long time. He has to be steadfast and consistent and earn the trust of his has-been-companion-for-millenia. Nothing is a given any more.

And i am NOT saying that this is what Aziraphale needs to do or that he was wrong in any way. (The fic doesnt say that either by the way.) But what cracked ME personally about the last 15 was my own abandonement-wound which got triggered massively. I felt retraumatised even.

So reading and feeling that Crowley does not jump on the next best possibility to be back with the angel was a big thing. Having the Angel slowly earning his trust and simply showing up again and again - I needed that. I needed Crowley to take his time, not be the sick lovefool he is often proclaimed to be. For him to have doubts, to feel conflicted, to feel love and the need to self-preserve at the same time.

All these ambiguities we all have. And to take the steps with him. Watch the turning point, when the fear of losing Aziraphale again becomes less and less and the fear of wasting time gets stronger. Taking one step at a time, sometimes even backwards. All those things, typical for a healing process, which is never straight forward but most of the time a rollercoaster instead. I loved this. I needed this. I could sit back, breathe and watch my own heart grow. Just. Wow.

Most beloved quote:

So if you feel like maybe you need a fic in which Aziraphale really shows up and cares while Crowley really takes his time to learn to trust again... And not because one of them has been an idiot, but to experience them both learning and growing together ... and that might be something for your own healing journey, this might be just THE fic for you. I absolutely loved it and so will you.

Reading is therapy! 🤗

[lovelaetter]

hii ! it's my first time writing & sending an ask so I'm kinda unsure what to say "( – ⌓ – ) but please hear me out on rosie posie ♡♡ quick psa, has a lot of context sorryyy

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ stepcest & kinda dubcon

⠀⸝⸝⸝⠀⠀( stepdaughter!reader × guilty!stepmom!rosé ) rosie feels so bad for seeing her daughter like that—she's supposed to be her mom, she married her father—but she just can't help herself. guilt building up 'n she gets all flustered whenever she sees you because her mind starts swirling and she just can't. you obviously notice because who wouldn't notice someone who's recently moved in ogling at them. oh my. rosie thinks she's being discreet because, once again, she married your dad, she's supposed to be attracted to him. but she swears she can see you staring back at her, stealing glances, but she refuses to give it thought. there's no way her now-daughter is going to reciprocate—that would be immoral.

but she can't help herself anyway, not when she's doing laundry and hopes you don't notice the fact some of your underwear is missing. when they appear again, this time with her own «ysl libré» scent, that's all the confirmation you need.

confronting stepmom!rosé is all a haze, rosie's not sure how she ended up eating you out as an 'apology', all she knows is that it feels so good to finally let go to her wants. you aren't very nice though, pulling on rosé's hair as to guide her and also what could be called a makeshift leash. rosie is sloppy, unsure, too pussy-drunk to actually do anything but loll her tongue out and deliver kitten licks. but that's okay, you have plenty of time to teach her mommy how to please her.

and then rosie can't believe she actually did that—but you can. ever so often teasing rosé by spreading their legs a bit wider than normal whilst they sit across from rosie during dinner. maybe also a bit of increased touchiness, discreet groping that makes rosé squeak and then cover it up with a cough. what else is she supposed to do? she'll have to admit she ate out her stepdaughter to get anything to stop. but she also doesn't mind your teasing, honestly, she loves it. she does get a good reward at the end of the day for being so good and quiet tho. she's so filthy for wanting her stepdaughter, the least she could do is behave for a small prize.

you're constantly reassuring rosie because who wouldn't want a pretty, older girl wrapped around their finger? rosé has never been one to go behind her lover's back, but now she can't help but picture you when she's giving her hubby a blow or when she's getting pounded dumb by your dad. but it's okay, you're still there to dumb her down even more.

⠀⸝⸝⸝⠀⠀she doesn't need to use her pretty head when all she has to do is just take it. maybe bent over the kitchen counter while your dad's at work. she's whining and tearing up because she's just so sensitive and one more finger would break her in half. something against that one spot is so different—so much better—than her husband mindlessly pounding into her. your fingers curl up and it just feels so good for her because it's not just her cervix, it's her spongy insides and swollen clit that are making her cry out in need.

taking her on the living room couch as well, some cheesy series you wanted to watch with her turning into her eating you out. she was a bit dumb to believe you actually wanted to just watch a movie—you're wearing loose clothes and your panties are peaking, you obviously have other intentions. there's even a bottle of lube shamelessly staring from the coffee table. all she can hear is the sounds from the TV turning into white noise as your moans drown out everything out. you're pulling and tugging on her hair, keeping her in place with your thighs, making sure she does well.

(I also have a few thoughts for roles reversed as in stepmom!reader corrupting stepdaughter!rosie (⸝⸝ ˊᗜˋ⸝⸝ ) but I think this is already long enough hahahah)

signed by ☃️

STEPCEST

yes, god, my head HURTS, i have nothing to add to this just yes… yes! if you don’t have a blog, i need you to create one asap and let me know bc !! i kinda want to live inside your mind ngl

and i might be suspicious about stepdaughter!rosie because i love the concept of her x older!reader so much, in my humble opinion she would only be allowed to date older women, so please share your thoughts on that too, i really want to hear them :(

[pulsarsatellite]

Clear Skies

The FINAL CHAPTER of Days of Laughs and Nights of Screams is now up to read on AO3!

You can read the last chapter here!

Chapter Snippet:

Keep reading

[seaofreverie]

First day back at the university and I still suck at this exactly as much as I did 4 years ago

[phantastragoria]

do you have a favourite portrayal of a character in the gotg game!! who is it and why <3

Oh I think they're all great honestly!!! Part of why I love the game so much is that genuinely, the whole team + supporting characters are written with such obvious love of the source material and equal attention between them all. When I see comments of people saying who their favorite character was from the game and the answer always being different from each person I'm like!! That's how it SHOULD be!!! They're the Guardians of the Galaxy (plural) the focus shouldn't all fall on a singular character like most other GotG media usually ends up as 😭

The two (sorry I can't pick just one) whom I think benefit the most from the game though are Drax and Gamora because they're almost always sidelined both in-and-out of universe by most of the various writers (especially as of late) and in turn the viewers/readers. I've been told plenty of times that they're the most boring members of the "main" team, BUT IT DOESN'T HAVE TO BE THAT WAY! The amount of love the game versions get (by the few who've played it at least) proves that 🥺

I've never really liked 616 Drax shifting to being a complete clown during the 90s and such (and even less so when the MCU followed along 💀) So I appreciate the game taking a bit of his seriousness from the DnA run and just making him struggle with nuance and context clues in a less exaggerated way (autistic Drax I still believe in u) and I feel the focus put on him and how losing his original family + the aftermath deeply affected him hits pretty hard here because it's treated very seriously and shown in depth, especially with how his family (wife) gets actual focus. I cannot tell you anything about Yvette in comparison to Hovat, who actually seemed to have had a personality lol (AND she was on their village's council like omg imagine having more to you than just being The Housewife) Though I will say I flip and flop on my thoughts about Heather being disconnected from Drax's life in this universe... The TLDR is that I think his arc here specifically works stronger when he has to come to terms with losing his entire family and accepting the life he currently has with the Guardians. BUT!!! I very much appreciate that Heather is still confirmed to exist within this universe, even if that means her dad issues would have to be dealt with in a different context if we ever get to see her.

Also? Shoutout to the writers actually bringing up the intense paranoia that always kneecapped 616 Drax but having that be a turning point in his backstory here, with that conversation he has with Peter where he talks about how he was becoming so paranoid of everyone being a chitauri/Thanos conspirator to the point of literally turning into an obsessed maniac like Thanos, and realizing that he desperately needed to turn his life around, it's so ough.

Out of the already many great conversations throughout the game, I think the ones with him are the most poignant. My favorite scene in the whole game is Drax and Pete's little moment on Knowhere... makes me go wahhh

(l also love that out of everyone on the team, it's his headspace that we quite literally get to go into. You KNOW that if this was any other media it'd be going into Rocket or Groot's head and likely treated as a joke.)

And oh my god, Gamora...

I find it so extremely refreshing that her role in the plot doesn't revolve purely around the men in her life, and instead, it's nearly exclusively her connection with other women. Or in the most direct obstacle she has to deal with, being how she starts projecting to the millionth degree on Nikki's situation for reminding her of what happened to her and Nebula. I find that infinitely more fascinating as a reading of her character rather than just dating drama or her arc getting completely overtaken by a man's instead.

And especially in her friendship with Mantis, who, despite having all these futures she's constantly seeing and having to navigate, still makes time to do her best to help her 🥺 From saving her life and being the one who put her on the path to healing on Lamentis, to getting her to join the Guardians and still checking in on her when she's able 😭 Friendship between women can be so powerful... u love to see it (🏳️‍🌈)

I also find it nice that there's this emphasis on her recovering mentally, and the comparison between Thanos essentially teaching her to just Deal with the shit in her life through very simplistic meditation versus the priests of Pama actually teaching her something to help soothe the mind :^( and that she still has moments of relapsing essentially. I find that to be a realistic take on recovery because that's just part of the journey since healing is not linear... and I think it's very sweet that she finds comfort in collecting something ---girly--- like dolls. Love to see a person reclaim a part of their childhood that they weren't allowed to experience. And how she's allowed to make BAD JOKES?? Imagine a woman being written to have multiple dimensions, crazy and absolutely unthinkable, I know.

There's this extremely specific theme in relation to Gamora across media that's been rattling around in my brain since first playing the game. When near the end during the revisit to Knowhere, she's about to completely lose it when Peter tries talking -for- her on what she's so upset about before immediately shooting him down, and she explains what happened between her and Nebula and she starts crying. It really struck me right then that she's never given a moment to cry elsewhere (or in the 616's case, the quite literal inability to.) aside from her shedding a Single Manly Tear (Original Sin) or a single moment out of legit fear (MCU 💀) because she's a hashtag Strong Independant Woman who can't be vulnerable etc etc. But for her to cry in front of the people she's come to care about, It gives her a moment of true vulnerability that I don't think she's allowed ever in most other media.

That and all of the above hits hard and is what makes me genuinely believe that the writers cared about her in the narrative and tried to do right by her when every other bit of media really hasn't nor cared to the majority of the time since the 90s :'^/ Brings a tear to my eye that she's allowed to just... exist in the narrative on her own merits and not on what she can provide to someone else's story.

[jabeur]

idk i keep feeling like i'll never be happy i'll just always feel this endless loneliness ans wrongness inside of me like i'm not meant for this world

[thedreadvampy]

idk I had a very interesting therap today but I just

like it's all very well to recognise that I gotta have a fucking open-ended breakdown and jump face first into the Sadness Bog sometimes instead of sitting on all my feelings

but like

I still have to go to work, you know? it's like. ok yeah have a breakdown which like until you jump into it you don't know if it's going to last an hour or a year. yeah go ahead that's all grand. you do have to get up in the morning and go to work though. you're not allowed to not do that. or to not pay the rent or not shower or not eat.

like all my friends and loved ones are constantly like 'you know you're allowed to be sad right' and it's like. AM I??? because I STILL HAVE TO PAY RENT.

[aberooski]

I'm seriously hanging on by a thread right now I might just go drop dead 😭