#I'm going to tag the fic by its title from now on so you can follow that tag if you want

[kissmetwicekissmedeadly]

MIDNIGHT CINDERELLA MEMORIAL POST

The Midnight Cinderella app will be closed on Monday August 26th, 2024 (5 PM JST). The English version was actively updated from 2014 to 2021 when Cybird announced the ceasing of operations for MidCin, but the app remained accessible until today. I'm sure I'm not the only one who mourns the loss of it even after all these years of discontinuation, so I wanted to put together a post to properly say goodbye to it. Trying my best not to make it all too sappy - I'd rather look at it as a show that reached its final episode. Some things might be left unresolved but in the end, you remember the cast and the emotions they made you feel more than the actual plot. Nowadays there arguably may be better titles by Cybird out there, but for me, the simplicity of MidCin was what made the details so memorable.

1. VIDEO - POV: You're playing Midnight Cinderella (for 10 minutes)

The 10-minute version (without sound) is accessible via the link above (opens in Google Docs) This one I was really excited about recording! It's just your normal day playing midcin, I'm sure many will find it nostalgic and comforting. You log in, claim your daily bonus (I used the chance to do a present box reveal, 90+ items, many of which you might recognize from route grace checks), play the garden gacha (in my case, I used up all the points I had accumulated, 7800 which equals 39 solos), do your princess lessons, change your avatar, greet your friends, read 1/5 of today's free story parts, check the ranking and your stats, look at your memories directory. The video has no sound, as the game wouldn't let me turn it on (you will see me try to do so throughout the video...) but later on I got it to work so I recorded a one-minute video (the one imported above) of me replenishing stamina just for those iconic sound effects that you either loved or absolutely couldn't stand the volume of, haha.

2. A Midnight Cinderella playlist (spotify link)

While I wasn't there for the early days of midcin, the songs I associated with the game almost always captured this very specifically nostalgic 90s-10s period, you'll see what I mean. Many of those are taken from 8track playlists dedicated to Midnight Cinderella, and if I'm not mistaken you can still look at what is left of them if you search them up. Others are just my very random interpretations of the route stories and the characters.

3. Fic recommendations

We have a lovely community of creatives and there are still so many works left behind which you can check out on the tags! But especially for fics I wanted to list some that truly touched me during the years (all links open in ao3) -

i'm on fire and its NSFW bonus scene bloodstream by a deleted user - words are not enough for this one. It's like it meant more than Nico's whole route for me at one point, and the songs are forever in my heart as Nico songs...

MidCin Works by DBMidCin (SoftSen) - ALL of these. This is my go-to collection of writings for midcin when I start to miss the game, it has a little bit of everything. The headcanon of Giles teaching his girls French for instance is one of the things I still remember reading like it was yesterday!

Bedroom Etiquette (NSFW) by RubyLeeRay - Because this is the dream. Doing something forbidden with your tutor Giles is the ultimate fantasy, I swear. I just love it.

And of course, many, many more. There are currently 166 works on the midcin tag in Ao3, and I'm sure there are a lot of hidden gems here on tumblr as well! Reminder that writers LOVE it when you interact with their old works, it's not weird, you shouldn't hesitate doing so if you find yourself enjoying any of them! <3

4. My own humble collection of MidCin writings on my writing blog @xxsycamore!

Maid, Butler, Chamberlain (NSFW) - Nico x MC with Giles joining them

Grabbles: 💋 Demand for a kiss, right here, right now (GILES); 👔 Stealing their clothes to cuddle when you miss them (BYRON); more coming soon as there are still some in my askbox and I plan on including midcin in future short writings request openings too.

Shared Moments (NSFW) - Nico x Reader - Secret relationship

Ice-cold heat (NSFW) - Byron x Reader - Temperature play

Double the Surprise - Alyn and Leo birthday fic

Leo Crawford having a misadventure with a cat (ao3 link) - crack fic featuring most of the suitors

5. Out of context Midnight Cinderella screenshots

This is a sideblog of mine dedicated to posting out-of-context funny screenshots that I took while playing the routes - @oocmidcin . If you have some of your own that are not on there, you're free to submit them and add to the archive!

6. The perfect MidCin song - The Moon Will Sing by The Crane Wives

When I first discovered this song back in 2020 I dreamed of making it into a midcin music video with simplistic art and animations... It ended up being just something you daydream in detail about while in the car, but that's alright. I could at least share my vision with you! Disclaimer, this is just an interpretation and obviously it can't fit all characters ideally - In the brackets, I explain how the lyric is related to them and usually it reveals their backstories. Some of the details I've already forgotten, sorry if it's inaccurate.)

Tell me once again

I could have been anyone, anyone else

Before you made the choice for me

(Giles - his family making the choice for him since birth and later disowning him once he failed to become a knight due to his illness)

My feet knew the path

We walked in the dark, in the dark

I never gave a single thought to where it might lead

(Nico - wandering the streets with his mother once they were thrown out of Stein castle because she was a commoner having an affair with Byron's father, the King)

All those empty rooms

We could have been anywhere, anywhere else

Instead I made a bed with apathy

(Robert - the empty rooms of the once flourishing palace of the country that Robert ruled and led to demise, nowadays becoming a mere court painter)

My heart knew the weight

Ten years' worth of dust and neglect

We made our peace with weariness and let it be

(Leo - the years in which Alyn didn't speak to him, after the death of their parents)

The moon will sing a song for me

I loved you like the sun

Bore the shadows that you made

With no light of my own

(Albert - loyally standing in king Byron's shadow)

Name your courage now

We could have had anything, anything else

Instead you hoarded all that's left of me

(Sid - his relationship with his fiance that he agreed upon just to find out more about his parents by getting close to her father)

Swallowing your doubt

Like swords to the pit of my belly

I want to feel the fire that you kept from me

(Alyn - searching for answers about the murder of his family and the fire that burnt down their home)

I shine only with the light you gave me

(I could have been anyone, anyone)

(Louis - being a nobody and MC being his sun)

7. It goes on

I went to read what I could of chapter 4 of Rayvis' route, using my last two chapter tickets as well, thinking it won't make me cry. And then I'm hit with those familiar things.

So let's close this with a word about the things that never change in the universe of Midnight Cinderella.

Stumbling down the grand staircase and right into the arms of somebody. Escaping the palace at midnight with Nico's help. Sitting at breakfast with Giles giving you your schedule for the day. Nico's teasing little smile as he accompanies you everywhere and listens to your relationship troubles. The way he's just a little suspicious at times. Finding Robert painting in the garden of Wysteria palace. Going to the room of your chosen suitor for the first time and meeting a pet there. Leo teaching you history and politics in his office. Dance lessons with Louis. Needing those dance lessons because King Byron is coming to Wysteria and a ball is going to take place. The bureaucrats being unhappy with you as a princess elect, no matter what. Galloping on a horse with Alyn who just protected you from an enemy attack. Getting information from a certain flirty merchant at a bar. Albert bickering with Nico, Sid teasing Louis. Being introduced to Archduke Herneit at Stein castle. King Byron appreciating the night sky. The sight of your yellow and orange princess elect room where on the large bed with its blue bedframe and tall see-through canopy you lie awake and think about the events of the day and how would a wise future Queen of Wysteria deal with the current situation. But ultimately you fall asleep, hearing the melancholically beautiful sounds of a violin coming from somewhere deep within your dream, and leave it all to the following day.

Thank you for everything, Midnight Cinderella!

08/26/2024

[vagabond-umlaut]

summer collapsed into fall

summary: gojo satoru has no favourite colour. he feels no need nor interest to have one, either. pairing: gojo satoru x reader [unspecified gender] tags: slight undertones of teacher-student relationship BUT there is NO ACTUAL romance between them; can this be called pining? idk; character study like fic of our sweetest satoru *cries* he deserves sm better; fluff but with a mild serving of angst; wc 0.8k notes: fic title inspired by a quote by oscar wilde; fic inspired by this lovely post i saw on pinterest; jjk isn't mine; loosely related to 'you make my heart flutter and fibrillate'; tumblr hates me using dividers hence the new fic format ^_^

satoru doesn't really have a favourite colour.

it's never quite crossed his mind. and even if it has, he has never seen it to be important enough to allow it be anything more than a passing thought, a meaningless thought---it is not like his life will be impeded should he not have a favourite colour, nor is anyone ever going to ask him what it is, so why bother?

but now, as you peer up at him expectantly, having already listed your top five favourite colours and why you love them so, satoru wishes he did bother back then.

he decides to feign confusion.

"what?"

"what what?" you shoot back, eager gaze not wavering one bit, "i just told you my favourite colours; aren't you gonna tell me yours? it's fine even if you have just one, sensei."

but is it fine if he has none?

throwing his watch a quick glance, he turns back to you. then exhales a quiet sigh, tired but the farthest from annoyed, when he sees you're still waiting for his reply... shutting the bus window beside, he turns to lean against it, shifting to face you properly.

and sighs, decidedly noisier this time, "this isn't the type of questions one asks their teacher, y'know? they are too casual, meant more for a friend than for a teacher."

"you got to be the last guy to lecture me about etiquette, sensei," you retort without missing a beat, huffing a quiet, amused laugh.

"and after the time i had to bring you to ieiri-san after you passed out from drinking a bit too much: i guess we're a bit more than a teacher and a student, aren't we, sensei?"

not really... no.

while satoru believes your first point to be a debatable topic, he does not think the two of you are anything but a teacher and a student, no matter how much help you extended to him or will in the future---it's not like he isn't grateful, though. he is; he really, really is---it's just his belief that few acts of kindness do not necessarily cause a friendship between people, and he intends to tell you this very clearly---

but finds he cannot. he simply cannot.

not when you say, still so eager but with an undercurrent so achingly soft that even the strongest wonders if he can handle its weight: "i'm not that bad a friend, y'know---you can ask others if you want; they'll tell you i'm a good friend, not the best but a decent one---"

"why don't you guess what's my favourite colour?"

rude, yes, horribly so. satoru knows, he knows this very, very well. but what can a man do but divert when he's being unsettled by words like the ones you addressed to him, by the tenor you employed for him---

although now that he observes you consider his suggestion, the man wonders if diversion was the right tactic or not.

he could have just lied and told you any random color. he could have chosen to be honest and told you he has no favourite colour like you and probably the rest of the world have.

but no, he doesn't.

satoru does not opt either of the above two painfully simple, painfully easy options. choosing instead to ask you to guess what his favourite colour is... satoru never really anticipates he'll end up being this much more unsettled, thanks to his decision of diversion:

if there was a subtext of a haunting softness in your manners before, the sorcerer reckons it is the text now, typed out in bold letters then underlined and highlighted in neon---you too shift to face him, even moving the bag kept in between to your lap and shifting a bit closer, but still a respectable distance away---only to punctuate your effort with a keen stare, much too gentle, at him.

it's scary, he thinks. yeah, undoubtedly scary. but somewhere in the back of his mind, something says it's also comforting.

many eyes look at satoru throughout the day. they gape, they gawk, they study the man and every small aspect of his person with many different kinds of reasons behind them. but before today, there has never been anyone who has regarded him with this much care, that too for a nonsensical cause like yours...

he wonders, just what are you seeing in him?

just who are you seeing in him?

"it's orange, isn't it?" you exclaim abruptly, leaning a touch forwards with a snap of your pointer and thumb. voice too loud. smile too big. eyes too bright, way too bright---

satoru takes not even one whole second to decide:

he now has one favourite colour.

[tbzhub]

Money Shot

Pairing: photographer!Lee Hyunjae x afab!reader

Summary: a night in with your boyfriend turns into a photoshoot

Warnings: MDNI, smut, marking, fingering, unprotected sex, lots of photos are taken, pet names like twice

Rating / Genre: M, established relationship au, some fluff, smut

WC: 3.6K

Artist Note: this is a little part 2 to this fic: just go fuck him ♥︎ thank you for the love on that story, i'm sorry the title is so misleading alvjbhvxzgfn. i figured i'd revisit these two!

Tagged: @deoboyznet @everykebbie @blizzardfluffykpop

psst i finished it @the-boy-meets-evil

m.list tag list

It’s a wonder how much a person can change in a year or two. 

These days your chest doesn't feel as tight. Your thoughts aren’t as intrusive and insecurity visits you infrequently. The smiles that grace your lips are genuine– often prompted by the joy that's found its way into the tight confines of your heart. 

With each passing day, came a further understanding of what it meant to live. To experience the world with an abundance of love intertwined with your being. 

Hyunjae wouldn’t agree, but he made all the difference. You are far more vibrant now; confident, social, witty. Being deeply in love brought out a version of yourself that was content and yet utterly fearless. 

There’s peace, both in knowing someone has seen the harshest parts of you and that they still love you just the same. 

Hyunjae gave you the space to be yourself– to show up however you were able to on any given day. With you, he was gentle and understanding in a way that’s reserved for people who care. 

Dating him meant never having doubt– not when he made every day feel like a gift. It was easy to smile with him around. He was funny without trying and hilarious in times when laughter was needed most. His spontaneity took some getting used to, but only because you were a homebody. Now, you look forward to the days you spend with him, enamored by Hyunjae’s innate ability to make every moment memorable. He saw the world in a way that left you inspired. Through his photography, he taught you that beauty was found in the most unlikely places.  Like at a run-down flea market during sunset, or while walking past a vacant flower stand on a late night– the florist long gone after an honest day’s work. Overexposed shots of your hair dancing in the wind as you slump in front of a fan, trying to survive in the summer heat. 

He was always taking pictures of you. Initially– you hated it. You’d go shy or tense up when you saw him bring out a camera, on high alert when he brought out his phone. But over time, you appreciated it. Being his muse– being able to see yourself the way he saw you– helped you in areas that you hadn't realized needed assistance. Through your days in front of the lens, you've learned that you have a brilliant smile. That your hair harbored a different tone in the wake of a setting sun. Sometimes you’d catch yourself anticipating the camera on days when you knew you looked your best, growing confident as more time passed with him by your side.

Now, more than anything else– you both are beyond comfortable and obsessed with one another. Your ears perk up when you hear the bedroom door creak open and the way you immediately step out of the bathroom to greet Hyunjae with a face covered in skin care products proves the aforementioned sentiment.

Coming over to kiss him sweetly, you briefly melt into his firm arms and as you lean back you swipe your thumb over the gray dot of mud mask that sticks to his nose with a chuckle.

“Aww…” Hyunjae coos, taking in your spa headband and the little strip across your nose. 

“No…” you groan, shielding your face away from him and his predictable nature.

“But you look so cute, right now.” He whines, peeking from behind the camera while his fingers hover over the button.

“No, I don’t. I look like the moon emoji” you mumble back.

“What do you mean? Hyunjae asks, looking at you with a clueless squint.

“You know, the one that’s like…”  you give a side glance to look more like the little gray icon.

There’s a small flash of light as the shutter clicks and Hyunjae chuckles as he looks at the tiny screen while you stand stunned that he tricked you so easily. You playfully push him in response, causing him to laugh harder and you can’t help but join him, finding his antics funny. 

You kiss him on the cheek before heading towards the bathroom. 

“I’ll be right back.” You announce with your back turned. “Don’t miss me too much,” Hyujnae calls out absentmindedly, eyes fixed on the camera in his hands and you smile at the remark as you walk onto the cool tile floor.

You come back to him with a washed face and a silly smile embossed into your pretty features. Bounding onto the bed, you allow Hyunjae to tug you into his arms. He peppers you with kisses, lips smacking against yours a couple of times until he’s pulled a wide smile and a few giggles out of you. 

“Wait– stay right there,” he says and you groan but your smile only grows wider.

“Don’t you get tired of taking pictures of me?” You ask, looking him over in amusement as you honor his instructions, holding your current angle. “Nope,” he replies, twisting in his spot to grab his polaroid camera. “Maybe when you have a hot girlfriend, you’ll understand.” He jokes, sending you a flirtatious look over the top of the camera while his finger turns the camera on with muscle memory.

Your laugh is accompanied by the roll of your eyes. Hyunjae presses the shutter and you ready yourself for the flash, relaxing thereafter as the camera goes to work.

The whirring of the film getting developed halts your joking, Hyunjae carefully plucks the film out and shakes it in his hand gently once it pops out of the top of the camera.

Falling further into the comfort of his pillows, you smile up at Hyunjae, observing the way he looks at the picture. His eyes were soft as he swept over the image, the arches of his cheeks raising slowly as a smile blossomed on his lips. For whatever reason the sight struck a chord within you.

“You really think I’m beautiful, don't you?” You voice the thought without realizing it, not until Hyunjae’s gaze shifts to you and you're taking in the sincerity in his eyes as he speaks. 

“Of course.”

He doesn’t say anything else and you didn't need him to. Not when he’s looking at you like you’re the only thing that exists in the world. The only thing worth gazing upon. His hand trails its way into your hair and you look into the lens again, relaxing under Hyunjae’s touch as the shutter clicks again. You shift slightly on the bed as Hyunjae inspects the second polaroid the same way as he did the first. He puts the two pictures on the nightstand for safekeeping before leaning down to kiss you on the lips. 

With your arms looped around Hyunjae’s neck, you steal more kisses off his lips until he drops the camera onto the bed and climbs on top of you. The kiss deepens as one of his hands roams down to grab at your waist and pulls your body closer to his while he props himself up to keep from crushing you with the other. He lingers on your lips, pressure changing from soft and teasing to hard and wanting once you wrap your leg around his hip.

You stay like that long enough for your heart to mimic the rapid thud of Hyunjae’s heart rate.

When Hyunjae pulls away from the kiss you’re left wanting more, grabbing at his shirt in an attempt to bring him back but you stop when you notice what he’s doing.

He hovers above you with a polaroid camera in hand. “Just one more. Your lips look perfect,’ he murmurs as he lines up the shot and you lick your kiss bruised lips before giving bedroom eyes to Hyunjae through the lens. You hear the sound of the camera going off and the flash follows before the whirring begins. You watch patiently as he studies the picture with a smirk on his lips. His hand moves smoothly up and down your bare thigh as his gaze flits across the film. 

It was hot seeing him like this, so obviously turned by what he’s doing– by you.

His hand comes up to caress your neck before falling lower, squeezing your chest over the thin fabric of your tank top and you pick up on how he bites his lip before finally tearing his eyes away and placing the picture to the side with the others.

“Wanna take more?” You ask, gingerly tiptoeing into uncharted territory. “I mean… I’d be down?” You suggest lightly while looking up at Hyunjae’s face. His expressions bounce between confusion and surprise before settling on mirth and something else indescribable.

“Yeah?” He asks for confirmation, his voice suddenly low and velvety.

As you nod your head yes, you wrap your fingers around Hyunjae’s wrist and guide his hand down to rest at the hem of your top. 

His hand scrunches up the fabric, exposing most of your stomach as he dips down low to meld his mouth with yours hotly. He kisses you slowly, taking his time with you in a way that you’ve never experienced with him before. His hand slides up further, delicately cupping your chest as he sighs against your lips. The sharp sting of Hyunjae’s fingers digging into your skin sends a shock to your center and your lips part in a soft moan in response. His tongue brushes against the tip of yours tenderly as your skin pebbles under his touch. 

The kiss remains slow as he savors every last second of having you like this, nibbling on your lower lip before sucking the tender spot and kissing you hungrily. You lay slack underneath him, body and mind being led by the pleasure he pours into you with his sinful lips. 

Your back arches as he lifts your tank top up further, pulling the garment over your shoulders. Hyunjae’s hands fall onto either side of your cheeks, holding your face in place as he presses his lips onto yours firmly and warmth floods your chest. His hands travel down your neck and sweep across your shoulders as he drags his lips along your jawline. He continues his descent until he reaches a particular spot on your neck that makes you bite back a loud whimper. He sucks the sensitive area while you squirm underneath him with your eyes half closed. You shake out a soft moan, bliss surging up your spine as he moves to another spot on your neck.

He sucks mark after mark into your skin until you're nearly trembling and soaking wet with need. Your shoulders and neck are covered in splotches of deep reddish and purple hues that you can’t fully see but the look on Hyunjae’s face as he leans back tells you that look to die for. He drinks you in with a lust-clouded gaze, looking you up and down a few times before reaching out for his camera.

“Fuck– you look perfect like this…” he praises, voice imbued in admiration and want. He lines up the shot, standing on his knees above you and you can see just how much he’s into this.

You reply with a moan and glance up, giving the camera a heated look before the camera flashes. His hand comes into the next shot as he wraps his fingers around your slender neck. You catch his dick twitching in his sweats as he takes a second picture with you posed like this. Hyunjae doesn't wait for the film to come out before casting the camera to the side. He yanks at your shorts and underwear, pulling them off of you quickly with your help. You spread your legs wide for him while he works his way out of his clothes. He’s back on you hot and heavy the minute his cock is free, settling between your legs as he devours you with an intense gaze, tracing your form lustfully. 

“Eyes on me, okay?” He orders softly, smoothing a hand over your bent knee lovingly as the other snakes its way up your thigh, leaving behind a sweltering tingle that lingers on your skin. 

His fingers sink into your wet heat and a sultry moan rings through his bedroom. Hyunjae rocks his palm back and forth, two fingers curled upwards against the soft walls of your pussy. You coat the digits, eliciting the sloppiest noises that you’ve ever heard from your wet cunt but you couldn’t be bothered to be ashamed about that in the wake of what he’d just put your neck and shoulders through. 

He picks up the pace and your legs fall open further as a long sigh leaves your chest. You obediently keep your eyes open, trained on Hyunjae while he works you over. The look you share is a charged one as he fucks you with his fingers, his determined gaze contrasting your unbridled blissed-out state. Your swollen lips part as you pant his name, pleading for him not to stop.

Hyunjae blindly grabs ahold of his camera, never stopping the steady rhythm of his deft fingers urging you dangerously close to an orgasm. Your toes curl and your legs tremble as he readies the camera. He lifts it until he’s got the right angle. His biceps strain and sweat trickles down his arms as he pumps his digits in and out of you while rubbing your bud rhythmically. His arm is getting tired but he waits… and waits, finger resting just above the shutter as he waits for the right moment. The one where your face scrunches up and your pussy tries to choke his fingers. He fingers you with just the right amount of pressure to grow the feeling inside you until it bursts–

The shutter goes off and a flash brightens the room.

You toss and turn as you cum all over Hyunjae’s fingers, moaning loudly as he fucks you through it. Gradually his pace slows just enough to gently bring you down from your peak. His fingers slip out of your sloppy folds and he licks them clean without a second thought before retrieving the polaroid from its slot. 

You shiver through the aftershocks of your high while you come down further. “How’d it turn out?” You ask, still breathless. Hyunjae looks over to you with dark eyes and you swallow under the passion in his gaze.

“Unreal,” he replies through a husky tone before setting that picture down beside the others. He climbs back on top of you, kissing you repeatedly as he lays his warm body flush with yours. Your legs tangle with his while you make out and your dainty hands mess up his hair as you roll on top of him in bed. You straddle his hips in haste, desperate to ride him but he clamps his strong hands around your waist freezing you in place.

“There's a shot that I want to get,” he hesitantly admits. 

You look down at him with an endeared smile. You knew him well enough to know what he wanted. He always say you look so pretty sucking him off. “Okay, baby,” you say, shuffling down the bed until your lips are inches away from his cock. 

Hyunjae groans, tilting his head back into the pillows as you take him past your lips. You don’t tease, dipping your head forward to ease more of his cock into your mouth while your tongue glides down his length. Your lips tighten around him, sucking in on your way up and swallowing around the head before gliding down again.

“Fuck–

You grind your nose into his pelvis when he reaches the back of your throat and you feel him squirm in bed. You let up again, going slow as you cover his entire cock in your spit. Hyunjae fists the bedsheets and hisses at the sight of you–  his cock, dripping with the attention that you’ve lavished it with, tucked between your plush dewy lips. You sink his cock into your mouth again, moaning as you sense him preparing to snap another picture of you. 

Your eyes begin to water as you take him to the back of your throat a few more times, looking up at Hyunjae just in time to hear the shutter go off again. You close your eyes and hum, sending another shiver of vibrations down his cock as he tries to check out the picture.

All you hear is shallow gasps for a while as Hyunjae holds the polaroid up to his face, coaxing you up and down his length with his other hand.

“This one is golden,” he rasps, voice ragged and thick with pleasure as he bobs you up and down his cock for a bit longer, entranced by how sexy your eyes look in the picture. You suck harder, swirling your tongue around before Hyunjae gently pulls you off of him by your hair.

“Let me see?” You ask, sitting up and straddling his lap as he places that picture to join the rest.

He just shakes his head. “We have to round out the set first,” Hyunjae teases, hands going to rest at your hips as he lines you up with his stiff cock. Placing your hands behind you on his toned thighs as you lift your hips, angling them to catch his cock between your wet folds before you lower yourself onto him. You sit on his cock in one fluid motion and sigh. He feels so good– the sweet slide against your walls as you’re filled making your head spin. You rock forward, leaning back against your arms for leverage while you rock back, savoring his thick cock pressed against you. You raise your hips and drop back down, moaning at the feel of his cock teasing your needy cunt. 

You circle your hips while you bounce in his lap, slamming your hips down harder with every motion. Your head tilts back as you ride him, so satisfied yet so greedy for more, hips beginning to roll faster. Hyunjae tightens his hold on you before matching your thrusts, sending his cock as deep as possible causing you to cry out in abandon. You bounce faster, breathing ragged as you start to work up a sweat, a sheen covering your stomach and thighs. Your skin slaps against Hyunjae’s as you move in sync, connected as one as your bodies heat up.

His fingertips press into your skin, as he takes control, lifting you up and down with only the strength in his arms. Hyunjae fucks you nice and slow, dropping you down on his cock and sliding you off so you feel every inch of him leave your insides.

“Fuck Jae,” you moan, core aching for release just when he’s decided to slow things down.

“Sorry, sweetheart. You look so good like this. I don’t wanna rush,” he whispers, licking his bottom lip as he looks up at you– still dragging you up and down his cock like you weighed practically nothing.

He doesn’t forget the camera, reaching for it with one hand while you take over once more. You slide down nice and slow before raising your hips, pausing at the top when he tells you to.

“You look fucking incredible, baby.” He says as he takes the last shot.

The shutter clicks and you carefully push the camera out of Hyunjae’s hands, feverishly crashing your lips into his a second later. He immediately falls in line, kissing you and giving you exactly what you’ve been waiting for. His arms circle your back as he holds you close and pounds into you. 

You gasp and writhe, taking all that Hyunjae gives you as your thighs give out. 

Pleasure and fatigue build, and build within you, threatening to overflow as he continues his onslaught on your pussy. He snaps his hips into you with unprecedented strength, and thrusts rough and careless, eliciting nothing but filthy sounds out of you.

His pace picks up, strokes falling out of rhythm as he chases his climax. 

The steady push and pull of his cock filling you up crowds your senses. Your mind goes hazy as you focus on how good Hyunjae makes you feel every time. Pushing your body to places that you didn’t think it could go. You clench around him as another huge orgasm shuts down your body.

When you finally come to your senses, you notice that you're sore and covered in sweat. You feel kind of gross, but there's nothing that could make you abandon your place on Hyunjae’s chest right now. 

You’re so tired that when you try to speak, your words come out as syllables abstractly strung together. The last thing you’re aware of is Hyunjae’s cool lips pressed against your forehead as you drift off to sleep.

-

In the morning, you wake up sore. The marks that litter your neck and shoulders are a little tender and you feel like you did 200 sit-ups and 300 squats right before bed. 

Hyunjae wasn't around, but you weren’t surprised by that– he never missed catching the sunrise at dawn.

As you sit up in bed, the stack of polaroids from last night catches your eye and you leap out of bed to sift through them all. The first photo is so innocent that you chuckle, knowing where the night led you. You glance through the rest, cheeks heating up at how bold you are in front of the camera. 

You flip to the last picture in the stack and can’t help but swoon. You set the stack down, covering the unfiltered pictures with the one of Hyunjae kissing you on your forehead while you were fast asleep.

[haveyoureadthismcytfic]

Have You Read This MCYT Fic?

Inspired by @haveyoureadthisfanfic! Banner art by @wassup-its-e

Submission Form | MCYT Fanfic List | Example Post

Any MCYT Fandom is allowed. This blog intends to be Non-RPF, so remember that the fics are about the characters not the creators. If you don't like something about the fics or polls, just keep scrolling. You are not required to interact with content that you don't wish to see.

This blog also doesn't care about what the content of the fic is, meaning fics can range from general audiences to explicit, and from fluff to graphic violence, and more. It is the creator's responsibility to tag correctly and it is your responsibility to heed the tags as warnings. Stay safe the best you can, and avoid/block/filter out topics and/or tags that you don't want to engage in.

Reblogs and the like will not be monitored closely, and this blog is not responsible for the actions of others. That being said, please do not put down (say negative things about) a fic, that fic's author, or fans of that fic. I do not care to see it, nor does anyone else, so only comment and/or interact if what you have to contribute is positive.

The posts will also include the author's Tumblr @ and a tag with their username if it is known. If the fic author's Tumblr is unknown, or if the fanfiction doesn't have a username attached, the post will be tagged with "author unknown". If you know the @ of an author, please share in the ask box or dm me, and I will update the fanfic list and the associated Tumblr post.

If you’re the author of a submitted fic, you have been pinged to 1) remind you that people like your fics 2) give you creator credit 3) promote your blog! If you don’t want to have your @ on a post, tell me which one you would like your @ removed from, and I’ll remove it. Remember that the majority of the votes are probably going to say they haven’t read the fic, but that’s okay! Focus on the facts that someone liked the fic enough to submit it and that there are people that have/plan to now.

Please try not to submit a fic someone else has already submitted! If there are repeats, I apologize, but there is no way I'm going to catch them all, or remember that the name is on the list people have so kindly made, so oh well; it's not the end of the world. I will try though. That being said, I have set this blog up with a queue, so there should be ~10 polls/recs posted a day, give or take.

If you have positive things to say about the fic, feel free to reblog the poll with its link as a recommendation, but I highly suggest leaving a comment on the author's work if you like it! Fanfic authors write these masterpieces for free, so the least we as readers can do is comment and/or kudos/like/etc!

\o/

resources stolen from the pinned post on @deityoftherain lol

tonetag masterlist

short guide on how to tag your own fics

short guide on how to title your fics/stories

writing lessons for beginners/basic writing review (the guide above briefly covers Formatting Quotes with Dialogue Tags, Commas and Conjunctions, Capitalization, Pronouns, and Person POV with examples of usage)

mcyt writing cheat sheet (+tangotekification)

mcyt ship/duo/etc name list

how to embed images on AO3

learn about the nuances of mcyt shipping

submission form link: https://forms.gle/5rHfvA6VzwjHiZ6j9

fanfic rec list link: https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1DcQwRRDPMuRFgruSbxA360YU6t7AkRHn6CeEVcZ4PFo/edit?gid=1577898752#gid=1577898752

[bamsara]

A03 Questions Tag Game

I got tagged by: @kagedbird I tag: @onethirdofimpossible, @coffincrows, (first two that come to mind) and anyone else who wants to do the game

1 – How many works do you have on AO3?

At the time of writing this post, currently 30 fics. (Not including any fics or written works that are not posted to AO3)

2 – What's your total AO3 word count?

1,066,633

3 – What fandoms do you write for?

Formerly: Don't Starve, FNAF, Dragons Dogma, Invader Zim

Currently: Cult of the Lamb

4 – What are your top five fics by kudos?

Solar Lunacy, Celestial Omens, Bytes of Lunacy, The Rehabilitation of Death, Saturday Insomnia

5 – Do you respond to comments?

I try to but I also get very nervous responding because I often don't know what to say back and I feel like it's almost rude or disrespectful to respond to a comment, esp the very nice ones that are long and in-deph with just a keysmash or a bunch of emojis, but I do read every single one since I have email notifications on for them

I'd like to sit down and respond to many but I really don't want to make it awkward so pls dear god readers forgive me

6 – What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I don't like unhappy endings. I enjoy angsty stories but I like when it's at least ending happy to me

7 – What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Not posted? Solar Lunacy

Ongoing? TROD

8 – Do you get hate on fics?

Not really? Most adults (in my experience) know the 'don't like don't read' rule and know basic online etiquette. I've gotten some for discontinuing a fic or switching fandoms though

9 – Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I don't write or draw NSFW! I like to make some suggestive themes sometimes, but I'm a very ace person, it's not something I do often. (I do have a current running goal that if my friend reaches their donation goal for their medical bills that I would give NSFW a shot, but again its not really my cup of tea)

10 – Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Nah I haven't written any cross overs, but I do draw them sometimes. Recently I've been spinning a Alice in Wonderland x COTL crossover in my head.

11 – Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yep. I've had people copy and paste my work, go in with a thesaurus to change a few words (like changing 'angry' to mad, 'upset' to 'sad', and so forth) to try and avoid detection and re-posted my written work under a different title name. AO3 staff took them down for violating their policy against plagiarism though

12 – Have you ever had a fic translated?

No. I wouldn't mind it so as long as I'm asked before hand, though not on anon so I can actually work with the person to prevent any mistranslations or mishandling, and that I don't want my work posted to other websites

13 – Have you ever co-written a fic?

I think I did when I was a teen but I cannot remember now

14 – What's your all-time favorite ship?

Eh I don't have any favorites, just ones I really focus on for a long while

15 – What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Pass.

16 – What are your writing strengths?

I can sit down for hours or several days and work on a writing wip completely in the zone. I cant do it on command but its at least something I can do

17 – What are your writing weaknesses?

Spelling and grammar, and sometimes long running sentences. I just kinda write, theres not really a goal for it to be perfect though so as long as the story gist and vibe is right, im fine with it

18 – Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I've done it before but only minor, had a friend help me with it (one or two lines of dialogue) Aside from that, I'm not comfortably fluent enough in anything to do it again without assistance

19 – First fandom you wrote for?

Soul Eater, when I was wayyy too young to be posting anything on the internet. My fanfics I wrote are still on fanfic.net to this day

20 – Favorite fic you've written?

It's inbetween TROD and EE&E right now

[simp-ly-writes]

hiiii im currently looking for spencer and Alex fics and i found your Page. Could you mabey write one with spencer? Mabey with the reader working in art Departement and reader and spencer are Engaged?? And they film a who memed it Episode with spencer cortney and Angela and reader is in the "crowd" and gave in a meme about spencer and he is the only one who knows that it was reader, because its like an inside joke and they are all cute and sweet when it happenes and after and all that :))))). (Sorry if its Hard to understand im writing this in a hurry)

Meet-Cute

─────── · · A Smosh FanFic

Pairing: Spencer Agnew x Fiancé!Reader

─ · · TAGS: gender-neutral pronouns, fluff, attempt at humour, meet-cute, pre-established relationship/engagement, feel-good.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 964

─ · · A/N: hope you all are having good weeks! 🫶 thank you for the ask, anon, this was was so cute and sweet! and I had way to much for doing that drawing XD

─────── · ·

You met your fiancé at work, most people would think that not to be the most romantic starting point for a relationship and they would be correct. On the first night you and Spencer met, an editor and sculptor both thinking to be the only one left in the office and needing a moment before continuing working. You decided to take a nap on the Games couch.

Bringing a blanket from your desk and a pillow from on of the offices, you set your alarm before practically throwing yourself onto what you thought to be just couch... but how wrong you would be.

(Charles) Spencer Agnew would find himself already on the couch, separate alarm set and forgotten about and fast asleep. That was until his now fiancé landed right into his arms with an abrupt thud before you both were jumping off the couch and screaming like little girls.

─────── · ·

You chuckle to yourself when a meme of that exact scenario flashes up on screen (of your own doing) and do your best to conceal your laughter at the memory while sitting behind camera. The fellow arts department staff also snicker to one another yet everyone else in the room had no clue why a couch and two poorly drawn, MS-paint stick figures with pink-tails were on screen. Everyone but Spencer.

Courtney and Angela, the other two contestants competing against Spencer for the title of winner today take to the crowd as you all neutralize your expressions and mask indifference when Angela's eyes catch your own and squint, trying to pry into your brain yet you only shrug and smile before knocking your shoulder against Shayne who appears equally confused as the rest of the cast members.

"Can we have our answers written on the boards, please," Tommy politely asks. Courtney taps her marker lid against the table, confusion if evident on her face as she looks to Spencer who looks all too content with his answer. "You know who it is, Spence?" She asks, raising a brow as this meme seemed obscenely obscure.

Spencer just shrugged, smiling towards the camera, his left hand tapping his board in a subtle hint that no one but you caught on to as you too started twiddling the fingers on your left hand before Tommy was calling time. "I DON'T KNOW, GIVE ME ONE MORE MINUTE," Angela begged, now standing up from the table before writing down her answer with a huff. Courtney looked positively stressed, "Spencer c'mon give me a hint, I've gotta feeling that I'm going to be made fun of for not knowing this one!" Courtney pleaded as Spencer's grin only grew and yours did too.

"I can't help ya," Spencer replied, now leaning onto the table, curious as to what the others answers would be. "Angela could you present first please," Tommy asked extending his hand out to point at her board.

Flipping it around, in small letters Angela wrote, Alex Tran. "I think its Alex... I guess? I mean Spencer wrote down his answer WAY too fast, so it has to be someone close to him-"

"See that's what I thought too," Courtney added, turning her board around now, and she had written down, SHAYNE, in big, bold capital letters. "I know they hang out a lot together outside of work and by the poorly drawn figures, I don't know on purpose or not, it could be him."

"And Spencer, reveal the answer please," Tommy asked, already knowing his would be the correct one. "I said, (name)."

"And do tell us and the viewers at home, why you choose them."

"Well, (name) and I recently got engaged, woohoo!" Spencer cheers as the office claps and whistles, you start slipping down your chair, embarrassed but flail your ring in the air like a white flag offering. "and this is a meme of our first time meeting each other. We both were staying overnight at the office and didn't think that someone else would also be staying and nevertheless using the couch so we ended up falling on one another and screamed like little girls in panic," Spencer continued yet barley, laughing so harshly in between and everyone seemed to as well as Tommy was knelt over, face red and gasping for air.

"Now that is a story, congratulations you two! And congratulations to Spencer for winning Who Meme'd It with that final point!" You stand up and cheer and Spencer points to you in the crowd, the cameras panning over before you shout. "Thats my man!" and everyone is in tears, clenching their stomaches of laughter.

─────── · ·

Once the cameras were all shut off and the office was going back to their offices and stations, you waited patiently by the door to greet Spencer before he had to direct a Games Video. "I'm surprised not many people knew how we met," he comments, wrapping an arm around your waist as you press a kiss to his cheek.

"I am too, but well, we are quite private about our relationship in the first place. So it would make sense," you say, walking over to the kitchen to grab water bottles for the two of you.

"Well, I'm sure thats going to change now," Spencer says, looking over your shoulder and you do the same. A wild group of cast members are all rushing over to you both as a thousand questions are being waterfall into your face and next thing you both knew, a thirty minute lunch had turned into a two-hour one. But when sharing a kickstarter and some snacks with Spencer's arm wrapped securely around you, his laughter in your ear as he whispered things only for you to hear, you wouldn't have it any other way.

─────── · ·

─ · · A/N: 🥹

─ · · SPENCER AGNEW TAGLIST: @lisiliely @missflufffanfics @little-stitious-studios @thejourneyneverendsx @sibsteria @lizzylynch1 @babble2 @delaneyburghardt

[limes-sagau]

Starting My Sagau Writing Journey

Ok Im wanting to dip my toes into the Sagau writing scene and I wanted to put out about 3 ideas I have and plan on writing. Each idea will be outlined below and people are welcome to take inspiration off of them just make sure to tag me in the writing. There will also be a poll at the end where you can vote for which one you want to see first. When I finish writing each chapter they will be put up on AO3. 

Shimeji AU: 

For those who don't know, Shimeji is a browser extension that spawns a chibi version of a character onto your browser. This character can then move around and climb on the borders of your web page and just be a cute little distraction (I know this might sound like malware but its not I've had a Venti and a Lumine Shimegi for a while now and haven't experienced anything that can imply they are malware) 

This would be more of a drabble and less of a full fic. 

Basically the characters in genshin become aware through their Shimeji and then begin acting up in your browser when you're out of the game (when you're in game you're fine).

If you leave your web browser opened when you leave your computer you will come back to it being on a weird page 

Like Venti looking at a wine website 

Diluc somehow ending up on a streaming service watching Batman 

Yae Miko finding your writing 

I'll likely start off with characters from Mondstadt and go down the list for each region.

Kidnapped by the Harbingers (not the final title): 

Exactly as it sounds, in the middle of the night you are taken from your college dorm (or room I likely won't specify) to Teyvat after the harbingers find a way into our world. 

Haven't decided which harbinger will be sent (leaning towards Childe because I feel like it would fit best and he'd be down for that type of experiment). 

Most of it will take place in a separate castle from Zapolyarny Palace. 

If you want to know my specific location I have in mind their is a visual novel called Dottore And The Spy where you become Dottores apprentice (highly suggest this visual novel) but its main story takes place in a castle in the middle of a frozen wasteland away from civilization where both Pantalon and Dottore live. This will be the main location for the story. 

I'll also be adding in Capitano as another permanent resident of this castle because I want to write about a big strong man who is the emotional intelligence of the three main harbingers present. 

The other harbingers and the Tsaritsa will appear but they will be much more understated in their role.

I want this fanfic to go into the mental load that being locked away from the world has on a person's psyche.

Readers' powers will slowly awaken, making it harder for the Harbingers to keep us a secret from Teyvat and specifically Celestia.

This won't be a full blown yandere fic with the harbingers, they will be slightly possessive but it is more about your safety since Celestia doesn't like you. 

Celestia will be the ultimate enemy over all but the story will not be focused on shooting down Celestia from the sky as readers powers will not ever reach the strength needed to face Celestia alone. 

Harbingers plan will not have changed; they are still working to take down Celestia.   

This will be taking place after Sumeru (so no Scara or La Signora and their will be less clones)

The story will also include 

Getting to know and bond with your castle staff like maids or ladies in waiting (I know these are typically only given to female presenting reader but I want to write about gossip and forming friendships so this is what I'm going with) 

Quality time with each harbinger

Impressing Dottore with your basic levels of knowledge on Astronomy (since Teyvats sky is fake)

Eventually a runaway arch

Lots of tears and mental breakdowns, but don’t worry there will be comfort as well

Shenanigans 

Possibly NSFW after reader finally convinces everyone to stop calling them “your grace”

To Make a Haven (Title might change):

Imposter (but reader is the real deal) AU

Reader gets killed once by a mob of NPCs 

I want it specifically to be NPCs so the reader still has emotional attachment to the playable characters

Reader seeks out a safe and secluded place  

Teyvat awakens to readers distress and opens up a hidden area of the map to the reader that can only be accessed through very specific means. 

Reader eventually starts bringing in Hilichurls to what for now im going to be calling “the Grove” 

Reader will begin messing around and experimenting with her powers and finds a way to somewhat heal the hilichurls 

This isn't a full fix it will be like layering a curse on top of a curse in order to negate some of the effects of the original curse

The hilicurls will not return to being human they will become something else (human like but not human) 

This fic will contain way more original characters 

Reader will be more spiteful in this fic but less in like a “make everyone suffer” way and more like “lets shake up the system and make everything more challenging for people because they tried to kill me” 

This fic will span over a larger span of time in world with the reader building a full city in the hidden area Teyvat made for them.

Well those are my three ideas! after this poll is done I'm hoping to get the first chapter out with that week, but I'm a college student and it been a while since I have written fanfiction so i make no promises.

[lokorum]

what would you say is your favorite jonmichael fic..... im very curious and love to reread anything in that tag

oh but how can i pick only one when they all are so good??? (,,•᷄‎ࡇ•᷅ ,,)?

aaaaaa can i make the several honorable mentions of the fics that made me scream and roll on the floor?????? pretty please???

scheherazade was one of the first jonmichael fics that i found while going through all of the cher's works because, evidently, they have no fics that are not worth reading!! (i'm sorry if and forty feet down only confirming it!!!)

sleep inertia has one of the best dialogues i ever read!!! the way cruelzy writes michael's lines??? aaaaaaaaa its so delicious and believable and never for a second i thought i'm reading something out of canon?? its just that good. 

carousel is the only one fic (from what i found) that i set in the last season and its adds a lot of layers to that big jonmichael onion that torments my eyes for a while now ldkfjgkdfjg also it's messy?? i mean the whole situation in the fic?? its so humanly complicated and it does not gives you the chance to experience any of the feelings clearly and i love it!! screechfox somehow captured all of the complicated stuff in one fic, blendered it together and for the whole time i just couldn't take my eyes away from it. 

five times michael saves jon's life and one time he doesn't have to - is here to sooth our pain and heal our wounds. i reread it so many times!! the dynamic between jon and michael in it is one to live for!!! sometimes you think 5+1 kind of fics can't surprise you anymore and then the coolest author like paisleycowboys enters the room and proves you wrong. 

to be like super honest, the 100 ways to say i love you series, when i first saw it, made me think im not gonna like it? i love my fanfics long and scary and bittersweet and with a bad-very-not-good-endings, so the title of this one made me go "hmmmmm HMMMMM hmmmmm hmmmm?" but ive started to read it anyway, theres not that many fics on the ao3 for jonmichael, we cant afford to be capricious and gosh GOSH i was so fucking wrong!!! its sweet AND sad AND scary AND awkward (in a best way!!!) AND it made me giggle so many times!!! NeedsCaffeineRightNow can make even the edgiest of us enjoy the soft kinds of fics (its not hard when they are written with so much care and love.)

POSSESSIVE!! MICHAEL!! COMBING!!! JON'S!! HAIR!!!!!! what else do we need from life?

transition, every time i reread it or think about it, makes me painfully aware of how many things should coincide for something to work. it's not one of those fics that completely encompass you; nor its the one that leaves you with new headcanons or in a good mood, no, i think it's the one that leaves you in dissoray, making you want to argue with author, to ask them what were they thinking about, pointing on your weak sides like this?, giving you something precious and then stealing it away? pushing your old bruises? that is to say, i have nothing but deep respect for indefensibleselfindulgence. to write fic that makes you want to engage in conversation? thats powerful 

Our 'Angel' of Static and Bone is written so inexplicably good, that more than once i wondered, how NeverwinterThistle was able to do it? and then i realised they are one of my fave bg3 and dishonored authors phpphp but really, the care, the effort that went into this fic? they are literally visible! you can feel the amount of time and brain juice that went into writing it. and the neighbor character? they appeared like two times?? and still their addition left me speechless with how clever it is, how different!! absolutely amazing work.

adjective noun has jonmichael chapter (11) that destroyed me as a person i swear i laughed so hard i dropped my phone and just kept giggling face-into-the-pillow style!!!!!! its rare for the fics to bring you this childish kind of pure joy; the little in-between moment of forgetting about everything, good and bad, and just have a good time. this chapter is definitely one of those rare things and it also made me wish there would be more jonmichael fics from cuttoth. somehow they nailed everything that should be nailed about this ship and did it in a couple of pages, what a magical work!! 

and well, now here's my fave fic, the one that took my head, shaked it like it's a soda can, and then left it open, fountaining at first and then dented and empty. 

I ask for nothing, but maybe I'm lying is the work that made me grateful for the fact that i know how to read in english. its....mmmm, you know that feeling when fic makes you go through literally everything? and then, as a bonus, through all stages of grief as well?

first you get hooked up by the beautiful writing style and so you know the fic is gonna be good and you get comfortable and you turn yourself off from the rest of the world and you read. 

you love pov, you love mood shifts, you love pacing, you love when scenes are short and you pause to think about what happened / you love when scenes are long and you get overloaded with the simple things that make you feel complicated emotions, you love it all. 

then you start to wish it would never finish; you look at the scrolling bar from time to time, a little bit too aware of how much there's left to read, a little bit too anxious about it. and at the same time, the fic starts to make you feel safe, confident, that at least it's gonna be alright, its gonna be that one work that will replace the canon events for you. it was the

“Oh. Oh, Archivist, no. That’s not right at all,” you say to yourself as you watch him march into artefact storage, both hands clamped around an axe. 

On a whim, you decide to save him."

line for me for sure uhhh it still hits as good as the first time too 

and then you get to the ending and you just stare at the screen. that hollowing feeling slowly spreading inside you. *sigh* its the best sort of inspiration im sure, but its the worse one too. i have no idea how possessedradios and authors like them are able to write something that kills you, then reanimates you and then makes you sit in front of the tablet drawing hours non stop. ''I ask for nothing, but maybe I'm lying" is so beautiful its scares and fascinates me, just like the podcast did. hell, better then the podcast did.  i know its silly but i even named my fisrt fanart of michael as the title of the fic 👉👈

ahhhh SO i rumbled again SORRY!!!!!!! every time someone asks something from me its either "i'll reply later" (replies 10 years after) or "tolstoy, hold my fucking beer". but i really hope that fic writers, not only those who are mentioned here but like in general? know how much they affect other people!! how their work creates safe spaces for others!! how they make readers smile or cry, even if those readers (im not pointing finger on myself idk what you talking about pgphpphph) are little gremlins that leaving comments once in a decade....................

have fun time reading!! <3

btw im working on a little fanart rn............. (expressing my deepest grattitude to ao3 johmichael writers 😳🔪)

[vanmarkus]

Fuck It Friday 💌

I keep wondering if people even know that I write... like, I know giffing has captivated me lately, but actually this is where I'm "based", so to speak. I just kinda fell off the map since the new season started airing (and since posting that 75k monstrosity that was the mudslide fic lmao).

Anyway, I am finally, finally getting closer to finishing the buck loves tommy fic (which pretty much does what it says on the tin, though it does have an actual title now), all it needs is some hefty editing and it's ready to be posted — hopefully within the next few days. Until then, here's some soft angst that somehow found its way into the middle of the smut.

“Good.” Tommy’s lips stretched into one of those wide but close lipped smiles and it was hard to hold back the urge to trace it with his thumb — so he didn’t. Tommy gave a small kiss to the tip of Buck’s thumb, before opening his lips and sucking it in between them, humming quietly. “God… did you get even hotter while you were away?” Buck mused with an incredulous huff. “Are you trying to talk your way into my pants?” Tommy’s grin was downright dangerous as he let go of Buck’s finger and leaned down to get a hold of the hem of his t-shirt, rolling it up as much as he could with the stupid sling in the way. “You’re not wearing any pants.” Buck pointed out with a teasing lilt of his voice. “Must be doing real good on all that talking then, huh?” “Funny.” Buck rolled his eyes jovially, but when Tommy didn’t answer or in fact moved at all, he zeroed in on his face with a frown. “H-hey, you okay?” “I don’t know. Are you?” Buck followed his line of sight, only to realize that Tommy was staring directly at the bruises on his ribs, where they were blooming like a collection of poisonous clematises; hugging his torso tight, probably for weeks to come. “Y-yeah, I told you, I’m fine. It’s- it’s just some bruising, no big deal, I swear.” “We can wait until you feel better.” Tommy suggested, his face darkening and his eyes never leaving the big blotches of purple and pink. “Baby, does it look like I wanna wait?” Buck scoffed, gesturing vaguely at his achingly hard cock, only inches away from Tommy’s own. “Evan, that’s not—” “You a-asked me what I need.” Buck cut him off with a serious set of his jaw. “This- this is what I need. You. That’s all I want, okay? So just… please, would you just touch me already?” Buck closed his eyes with a frustrated little sigh and only opened them when he felt a feather light touch on his skin, causing it to twitch with a tickle, as Tommy’s lips brushed over the bruises. “That okay?” He hummed quietly, his lips gently vibrating with it and bringing a small tingle into Buck's ribs, one that somehow felt like it was going much deeper than skin or bone. “Y-yeah… okay.”

✨I have been tagged by and am absolutely no pressure tagging the ever so talented @sunshinediaz @spagheddiediaz @jeeyuns @exhuastedpigeon @bidisasterevankinard @diazsdimples @likegoldintheair @honestlydarkprincess @watchyourbuck @actualalligator @wikiangela @bucksbignaturals @loveyouanyway and anyone else who feels like sharing mwuahhh 💛

[shinjisdone]

𝒯𝒾𝒸𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒮𝓅𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈

(A Yandere Pinocchio X fem!Reader fic from Lies of P)

Pɑɾt 1; Sluɱbeɾ

capitolo uno

capitolo due

capitolo tre

capitolo quattro

capitolo cinque

capitolo sei

capitolo sette

Capitolo otto

capitolo nove

capitolo dieci: is here

Pɑɾt 2; Awɑƙeƞiƞƍ

It was a privilege to share the same blood as Giuseppe Geppetto. To be his family, his niece and take part in the marvelous worlds of puppets. The privilege to learn from him as his apprentice. The privilege to care for the things he cares for and to have the things he cares for, care deeply for you.

Tag list:

@greeknerd007 , @mitsureigen , @kame11a , @thirdblogsacharm , @sarah22447 , @blueberryhitosh1, @written1nthest4rs , @huicitawrites , @wonderlace19

TW in general: Yandere behaviour, creepy and still puppet, dubious intentions and relationships

[TW for this one specifically include: puppets, puppet limbs, moving and talking doll, uneasy behavior, dubious intentions, burnout, exhaustion, slight depression, grief, crying, uncomfortable tension, creepy behaviour, slight disassociation from Geppetto's part, coercion (to force you to have something you do not want + face something emotionally and physically), mentions of liquids (oil and adhesives), reader is having something akin to a panic attack (panting, slipping, and swallowing down vomit)]

The rattling echoed in the hallway with one cable slipping out of the cage and falling on the floor. Its head dragged along with an hesitant motion as more was taken. Finally, the metal plate was given a gentle push and it closed before the chest was carefully forced back into the cabinet.

"I'm...sorry," You tried to smile but it hardly beared any kind of regret, "I'll return it once I'm done, I promise. I can fix you up in no time, after all. I've long achieved the title of expert in this regard. I think." Your smile was met with artificial ones as the puppet butlers remained motionless, hunched close together in the tight furniture. The previous clothes had to be removed for them to fit in. You gently closed the door without looking back.

Quickly going upstairs, you put the box on your worktable and let the tangled wires hang from the edges. Sorting everytging out will be tedious but what got your attention right now, was the small, golden cube. The core looked just as intact as it did months ago, reminding you of its longevity the Workshop Union promised when first introducing it and when Uncle first showed you the object. The mere thought of puppets being able to talk made your heart jump out of your chest and you could only believe it when hearing it for yourself. Many were put off by the prototype's rough voice but you were only mesmerized.

Aurorie sat next to the project, eagerly awaiting your hand as you took her small one and rose her up to her feet. With a slight hitch, the material bent briefly before the limps stayed fastened and she stood firm on her legs. You observed for a while, smiling with a big sigh as she stayed still and began connecting the cables. Even as you opened up her back and rummagered near her neck, the doll did not falter, which only made you smile more. Putting the box near and adjusting the microphone, you let Aurorie avidly waiting.

She stood tall as she stared into your eyes as you took a deep breath.

"Would you like to dance?"

Half a minute passes as you held your breath not have it fawn over the microphone. Staring at the box, the golden frames glowed lightly in the dim room. However Uncle managed to create such seemingly beyond this realm was still a mystery to you.

"...Would you like to dance?"

Your voice was mimicked much higher, resembling that of a bell, just like you wanted it. Though your hesitation was also carried over and so you gave it another shot.

"I'm awfully sorry...I didn't mean to frighten you."

"I'm awfully sorry...I didn't mean to frighten you."

"It's just that we've met once before. Once upon a dream."

"It's just that we've met once before. Once upon a dream."

Inhaling deeply, you lifted her arm and held onto her small palm. Gingerly you slowly pulled her towards the right. Her body would first lean to it, before, surely, one foot after another followed suit. Her steps were small but graceful, giving the illusion of her walking all on her own - or rather dancing as she followed your lead.

"...I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream..."

Even as she danced to the rythm you gave her, the voice echoed back fluently. High-pitched and fitting for a doll her size, high enough to not have it be recognizable as your voice.

"...That glint in your eyes is so familiar, a gleam..."

Cracking a wide grin you carefully got up from your stool and daringly dragged her across the entire table as she danced towards each direction you pulled her. Hooking another finger around her other palm, you'd lightly hold her up as her legs would cross like a ballerina.

"And I know it's true that visions are seldom, all they seem...but if I know you, I'll know what you do..."

You held out a hand near her waist to stop any fall but Aurorie twirled lovingly as you turned her, bringing up one leg just like you programmed. It was meticulously soft but each movement, no matter how slow, made your heart swell. You made this. You made your dearest friend dance and sing just you always did with her, for her and now can do so together.

She is a singing, dancing doll that you made with your own hands.

"You'll love me at once, the way you did once, upon a dream!"

For the finale, you slightly pressed your finger against the back of her head and she bowed.

The rain did everythig in its might to squash him down.

Alas, it was more like an annoying fly in his ear. Rain was nothing compared to that man and his company, alongside his loyal companions who believe themselves to be divine. Having reached the door, the prattling from the sky above seemed to become louder.

Ergo, was it?

'I know what you're thinking. Trust me when I say time is scarce and you should know better than anyone else. We are creating perfection and cannot afford to hold it back any longer for your little projects.'

It fell from the sky, did it?

'You were the one who came to me and I have done my part and more. Be a dear and fulfill your part of the contract, Guiseppe. Hurry up and get rid of anyone not trustworthy. The puppets will do the rest.'

Did it not need more? Love? A father?

The only one fullfilling him with anything was waiting like a good child. Everyone else seemed so disappointing.

'You don't need anyone else anyway, no?'

His voice echoed in the back of his head as he pushed the door open and it left him dazed; Not knowing if he was still calling out to him as a means to motivate him further, push him further into madness - fear and mockery are great motivaters - or if he is just going senile.

Geppetto cannot afford any more years to waste. He's not the youngest anymore but he needs to be to welcome him back.

Like a mantle the drenched clothes weighed him down and he could not help but let out a groan. He slid off his cloak and let the rest fall onto the floor, his long strides taking him to his office. It was routine by now.

Eyes darted around the hallway he passed but barely took in any information he he sees. The mess in the kitchen and remaining food, the disarray of chairs and the cabinet not entirely closed. The only thing that made him blink and sharpen his vision was the constant knocking at his office door. Your clothes, sloppily worn as well as untidy your untidy hair faced him and he inadvertantly had to stop in his tracks. For a moment he realized that you had turned around as well to face him.

"...(Name)?"

You said nothing and continued to stare at him with that surprised look. You looked as unruly as you did from behind. The only things kept in neat order the bandages around your hand, which seem to have become thinner - how long would you were it and did you even need them anymore - and your loyal doll.

His visage softened at the sight of it, though he delfated right after.

"Oh...you weren't home."

"What do you need, dear? I'm afraid I'm awfully busy."

"I thought so...I, uhm, just wanted to check up on you. We haven't talked in long."

"And I don't know if we can." Geppetto passed by you and opened his office's door. You quickly followed after him. "I'm still as busy as ever. Just tell me what you need." Closing the door, you watched Geppetto sit down with a heavy sigh. He wiped his face, then his eyes as they seemed as tired as yours. Wordlessly, he turned in his chair to you. The expression on his face could only be described as drooping. Awaiting for the night to draw closer so he can finally close his eyes.

Rushing over to the other side of the desk, you placed Aurorie on top of it, facing your uncle. He sat with an empty look, staring down at your doll. With an avoidant gaze you held onto both of her hands.

"...It's nothing much if you are so tired, Uncle." "No," he sighed, "show me while you are already here." Swallowing down the lump in your throat, you gingerly lifted her up by her palms. In an moment, she stood on her feet and Geppetto briefly raised a brow. Clearing your throat, you tapped her head.

"What's the meaning behind this-"

"Hello, Mr Geppetto!"

Geppetto halted and blinked. With a deep inhale, he sat up straighter.

It talked. It was a recording of your voice, he could tell, no matter how high-pitched it sounded. Nevertheless, you never had any puppet talk in script before and even if it wasn't its own consciousness, it left him surprised.

After all, it didn't have any Ergo.

"I'm awfully sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you."

It stretched a hand out.

"But I am just a doll. I like to sing and dance. Would you like to dance?"

Your finger found its outstretched palm and lead it back to you. She took long but careful steps. You glimpsed back at him, watching him raise a brow. Carefully, he slowly let out.

"...Yes. I'd like to see what you can do."

"Yes!" It answered much more solemnly than the man and began raising one foot. Gingerly, you began to guide her in a circle. Her legs would go up and down as her head never turned away from Geppetto. The voice box reacted a moment later.

"When you wish upon a star..."

It was this song. Quickly you let her dance in a slower pace and with much more vigor.

Geppetto's eyes widened at the familiar melody.

"Makes no difference who you are..."

HIs brown eyes trailed after the movements that replicated those of a waltz, he reckoned. One-sided and of an lone dancer though it tried its best to make up for an lacking partner by using his entire desk as its stage.

"Anything your heart desires..."

The shoes tapped on the wood in rythm. By the time the refrain was reached, he hunched lower, forward, staring with a keen eye as its moves became almost life-like, as if these giant human hands guiding it are just for show itself. The singing voice was as clear as a bell and its head would turn with the body. The two parts have seperate screws. The voice box hidden and placed somehow between the crinoline and the dress. The most eye-catching thing out of all for the man were the light limbs that must been taking apart, added joints - so tiny that he did not possess any so small so what did you built in there - and reconstructed it entirely to its original shape visually for it to move so naturally.

His hand went from his chin to the doll. Worldlessly he opened his palms and neared them to its hands - you halted for a moment, staring at him. Hesitating, you let Aurorie tap towards him and he took the lead.

"...Will come to you."

Geppetto fully let the doll have his attention as he mimicked your moves. Just like before it danced over the desk, twirled and bowed, left to right and back and forth, just as he wanted it to. A fine display of a doll obeying the puppeteer.

Then, he let one hand go. Like a dog on a leash, Aurorie is dragged by one finger to one direction to the next. His hold lingered only for a second, before he snapped his finger away and it was left with no puppetteer to guide it.

It stumbled but with a thud Aurorie landed on one foot, the other bend behind it. The upper body leaned forward.

If a puppet was pushed, you could make it regain its balance.

"If your heart is in your dream..."

His hand swept from the left and took it back on stage as he pushed and pushed and pushed it further back. It backed off with small but secure enough steps before it retained its posture, straight as a candle.

If a puppet was hit by a force, it could recover.

"...No request is too extreme..."

Hand in a claw, he dragged it forward before stopping it a second later with a flat palm. Aurorie did while swinging slightly in its spot. Once the limbs stayed still, the voice box finished the last verse before ceasing as well. Like a mountain, it stood tall on his desk, staring into nothing.

You glimpsed between it and Geppetto.

And you could make the limbs move, give an arm autonomy.

Folding his hands, he had his chin rest on them once again as he eyed Aurorie for a few, silent seconds before parting his lips ever so slightly.

"Sing, doll."

The silence continued on. Ever so quiet ticking could be heard within its body and only a moment later was a high "Yes!" let out. The ticks returned briefly before the voice box echoed from the dress.

"...Little wooden head go play your part, bring a little joy to every heart,"

The old man observed it without interruption. It stood still and away from the two of you, creepily even but the voice singing was smooth and assured. Its face might not be able to move, the rosy lips not parting to let out a melody, the eyes set firm like stone but nothing seemed awry to Geppetto as he heard the jolly song.

"Little do you know and yet it's true,"

Finally, he blinked his tired eyes and slowly rose them to you.

"That I'm mighty proud of you!"

"Uncle?" You spoke in between the mirthful verses with your own worried and shaking voice. You stared wide and pale into his narrowed, strait ones. He kept on staring.

Quickly, however, like a sudden draught, he took a deep breath and wiped his nose. "Sorry, my dear," Geppetto cleared his throat and had his wide eyes focus on you, "You caught me zoning out. Today was mighty exhausting, but..." Once again his gaze fell on the doll. It stayed there for a a good few seconds before he began speaking in a sober voice. "...this is a big change now. Something different."

"Oh..." You hesitate, eyes darting around the room briefly before lookng back at him with an hesitant smile. Your voice was quieter than his. "Do - do you like it?"

A finger flicked the doll's locks, gaze glued on it.

"I do."

Your chuckle was as dry as his answer.

"That's great, great. I...wanted to have something to cheer me up a bit," Looking down you fiddled with the bandages on your hand, "I thought maybe it'd make you smile, too."

"Why did you want to make this out of all things?"

Your eyes locked with his crinkled ones, brown seeming to be an endless spiral that you couldn't quite decipher. Again, you glimpsed about before answering. "...I don't know. I saw that at the festival about a month ago and I loved it - but the day turned horrible and," A soft sigh escaped you, "I just, didn't want that to be. I wanted to have fun that day but I ruined it for myself." Looking back, Geppetto could clearly make out your deep frown through his failing vision, an frown so big he had not seen it in years.

"...It's sweet that you dedicate so much of your time for something as droll as a dancing, singing doll."

At that you could not fight the cracking grin. Folding your hands behind your back, you shyly looked away.

"Well...of course. I love her."

Brown eyes, strait and narrowed, opened up like an old door, a secret so well hidden and unknown to the rest of humanity, to the rest of these arrogant bastards, as his eyes widened like that of an child - told of an tale that only he could understand.

The man's head rose as he took in on all that you were, your features so familiar and clear as the first time he held your crying form in his arms, watched as he realized that you, too, could partake in this secret and understand it as well.

"You love her?"

You smiled bashfully once more with an firm nod. "Of course."

"...And you made all this by just observing the perfomance of these other puppets?"

"Ah, yes, well...I suppose. I did some more research though, I didn't just etch that all in my mind."

A short sigh escaped Geppetto as he leaned back in his chair. He hesitated for a bit, a mere moment as he pondered, before slowly getting up. Standing in front of you, the man was unsure on how to approach yet one thing was clear. Folding his hands behind his back as well, he took a deep breath.

"Puppets need love to be created. And love is formed by an genuine wish, my dear."

A brow was raised at his sudden claim. Wit perked ears you listened as he stood there, seemingly staring through you.

"Something as beautiful and heartfelt like puppets can only be created by love. Anything else or below that just makes them tools."

Carefully, he rested his hand on your shoulder and slowly but surely gained the confidence to tighten his grasp. "But we puppet makers do not fall so low. We don't bury ourselves in work just to make some helpful tools, we create things because we desire to! We do the things we do because we love them." Staring back you noted the glint in his dark eyes that do not reach his smile. Another moment of silence filled the room, one where you could not find any words to reply to his sudden but mellow vigor but your uncle was quick to draw back and reach for his desk. "Can I show you something? No, I want to." He opened a drawer before cautiously taking out a piece of paper. Dusting it off, his lips tucked wider. Swiftly, he offered it to you.

With hesitant hands you took it.

A crayon painting of Aurorie.

Your eyes darted around the long, curly locks of hair that waved about in an ridiculous manner. The bright baby blue that was all over the place, as well as the giant tiara sitting on top of her head. Kind eyes and a red smile.

Bandaged fingers carressed the bottom of the paper.

'For my annoying cousin, (Name).'

Your heart dropped.

"This, too, was created out of love."

The ticking of the grandfather clock seemed as light as a bird's dying chrip. The room drowned out. The carpet under your feet nothing but a blotch of red and the smell of the mahogany table so sickening you held your breath. All you could focus on was the crude drawing of your beloved doll and how starkly similiar it looked to the real deal despite the childish doodling and exaggeratedness. The hair, dress, tiara, and smile were all meant for you. The signature had wild scribbles around the word 'annoying' as if he really wanted to hide it even as he failed to.

'For my annoying cousin, (Name).'

Did he really dislike you that much?

Did he really love you that much?

"...When did...he make this?" Discreetly you gasped for air, a mere moment to even find your voice even as your heart spoke before your brain could stop it. "...After your fight when you left back home in the holidays. I brought the doll to you the next time we visited your father."

Gepetto spoke so calmly but none of his words were any news to you. Of course, you thought, you recalled the joy clearly when you held her in your arms for the first time. You knew how old the two of you were but not once did he cross your mind when you got her - and played with her every day after that. The thought of him doing something like that for you, however, made your heart stop. Taking a deep breath you swallowed the lump in your throat. No miracle in the world could conjure a smile on your face - all you could offer was a crooked grin to your uncle.

"It's beautiful." Facial muscles ached and the crack in your voice made you look nothing but a sham but you meant it, you did, and you hoped desperately with an aching chest that Geppetto would see it too. Let the only other man who knew him understand you as well. He, in turn, arched a brow and glimpsed between your face and the drawing you held.

"Do you love it?"

"I do." Another crack followed by a sniffle and the man was quick to come closer and grab your shoulder. "I know. I know you do now. Don't cry, dear. Don't cry. It wouldn't suit you." Wiping your nose, you blinked like a maniac to surpress the tears. The lump in your throat got bigger as your chest was trying to suck you in whole again, a deep sinkhole caving in as if nothing could sate its selfish hunger. It felt more upsetting to have Uncle see through you so easily like glass. All your emotions out on display like a tray of food and out of all people, he was the one feasting on them. Looking over the variety that he could freely choose from.

Instead, he took a step back and watched you stiffle your sobs with a drab expression. "It's alright, dear. You can keep it if you like. It was meant as a reference sheet for me but I believe it was ulltimately made for you."

With a deep breath, you shakily let it out. Clearing your throat you looked at him, misty-eyed. Everything felt like it was crushing you down, including him. "Are you sure?" You sounded like a wounded bird and hated it. He offered a friendlier smile and nodded. "Of course."

Nodding yourself, you drew the paper closer to you. However should a precious treasure like this be kept, you wondered. Crushed as you were, you were unsure if you could fold it properly to keep it, or have it preserved somewhere safe - in an treasure chest itself and nothing less appropiate.

You were not sure if you even wanted to keep it.

Still, words needed to be forced out, "Thank you, Uncle Geppetto." You sniffled again and dared not to look at him - unaware of how he stared down at you for moments that felt like an eternity. The taste of your snot was awful and salty, the paper between your fingers so thin but sharp, either destined to fall to the ground or cut you and spill more blood. The ticking of the clock something you did not hesitate to despise. Everything seemed so wrong and disgusting. With enough bravery and integrity, you peeked from beneath your tears to his hollow gaze. You've never seen his eyes swirl in such darkness.

You prepared yourself to speak but Geppetto was faster as he hastily drew his breath. "I knew that you would understand. Only puppet makers can understand other puppet makers. Thank you for that, my dearest niece." He paused as he mulled over his next words, "...You don't have anything else to do, do you? Of course not, you've got to rest your hand."

Before you could interrupt, he gestured towards his office door with the one hand and fished out a key from his breast pocket with the other.

"There's something else I'd like to show you. Perhaps you could help me."

How one earth could footsteps sound so dismal?

A place lit by lamps so dark?

The hallway you raced over and over and over again lose all meaning and familiarity, like falling out of love and being presented with a stranger?

Your shoes thumped against the carpet one step after the next. You focused on keeping the rythm in tact, your good hand cradling Aurorie while your bandaged one grasped the crayon drawing. Uncle's gray coat always in front of you with great distance. This walk felt like an eternity as well as you wanted nothing more but for it to be over. To close your eyes and be back in your room as if nothing had happened.

"...That song you taught the doll..." Barely you could lift your head up to Geppetto musing. As long as you could hear him, you'd be fine continuing to stare at the floor. "...You two often sang it." Your eyes flickered up to his head slightly turned to your direction but not fully seeing you. Meekly you nodded. "Mhm. It was from that book..."

"A book?"

"...Yes. The adventures of that boy that lied...it had pages with just the song written all over it, it had a fairy that made wishes come true all in blue and, yeah," You nodded along even though he did not see it, "...It was sweet...and good."

The click of the key made you halt like a train. It took a good moment for the door to creak open with your uncle's figure blocking your view. It hit the wall with a thump, startling you and leaving you wondering if the door always was made out of such heavy material in the past. Lighting a lamp, the man gestured towards the darkness below before promptly going down. With a deep breath you pressed your doll closer to you, crinkling the drawing in your hand and gingerly followed.

The creaking your steps would leave was heavier than that of the door, old wood soon replaced by metal that thumped harrowlingly. The air felt stiffer and colder and the room seemed to broaden the deeper you marched down, though that was only a guess. A gut feeling as your uncle was still the only light you could count on.

"Carlo really loved you, you know?"

Geppetto's words left a shiver running down your spine.

"He'd always ask when you'd come back. When the next holidays might be and if you and your family would visit Krat so he could show you more and more. More of what I made."

A long and echoing chuckle escaped him. The thumping continued.

"'How many more sleeps until (Name) comes back?'"

Goosebumps over your arms as the cold sunk deep into your bones.

"He just had a hard time showing it. Carlo is an emotional boy and you know how they get when they grow."

The thumping stopped. You almost bumped into him if he had not swiftly went around the corner and turned on the light. Squinting your eyes at the blinding sight, you were met red and white. A fine, slim, green carpet starting from the staircase and rolled towards the end of the room. Working tables at each side of the walls shaped to a circle with all kinds of tools, parts, material, liquids, adhesives and puppet limbs on them. Lamps symmetrically facing each other on the walls with a few loveseats and wardrobes and small furniture scattered in the basement. Assembly instructions were pinned on a few tables. It smelled of oil and you jumped back when you stepped on documents soaked in some other liquid.

Shrinking, you pressed your belongings further into you. "Uncle...what do you want to show me here? What could I possibly help with?" You tried to laugh but it was squashed by the sound puppet limbs slipping off a table. The porcelain white material was oozing out adhesives.

Hastily you hurried after your uncle. Your shaking feet stumbled as they tried to catch up with his long, calm gait. A red grand drape from the left ot the right covered the end of the room with a bright light peeking from the ground. You eyed it skeptically as your uncle abruptly reached for a switch on the left and the drapes slowly opened. The lamp hanging from the ceiling was the brightest and shown down on the red loveseat like in a play, letting the world know of the star of its show - an otherworldliness that would change a mortal's life for the rest of time.

The lump in your throat turned into bile that rose to your mouth as your uncle stood to the side, the show's light casting a shadow that reached the basement's dark corners. You kept on swallowing it down, down, down, blinking away the tears as your hands reached for something, anything - coming into a contact to the edge of an table to the far right and grasping it with all your might. Wide, burning eyes darted between the dark silhouette and the star sitting oh so peacefully on the loveseat. Shining vibrantly under the light as if it were an angelic being, even with the simple and plain blouse and trousers it adorned. The room spinned and the quietness was the noose cutting your neck from your head, your mind.

"What is that?" You licked your lips as you gasped for air. The older man still took his time to speak. "This," He began nice and slow, almost in an trance when blinded by the star itself, "This is the most special thing I have created yet. Something that will change our world." He reached for the headrest, his fingers grazing the locks, and pushed it further down to have its peaceful face drink in the light, causing you to shoot up your hand to your mouth to swallow down your gall.

"He's not complete yet. There are so many things to consider, so many things to do to make him perfect. He needs to be." Finally, he turned to you, his face obscured by shadows. Your uncle offered you his hand. "Come, take a closer look at this miracle."

The weight you shifted onto the table made you slip curtly before you could quickly get on wobbly feet. With shaking arms you squeezed your doll and drawing to you and walked with a hunched back, agape mouth and slow steps that will be the death of you. Seeing this thing any more closer would be your death. The sight of these featherly light lids closed as if resting in a tranquil slumber made your eyes burn and heave for air that did not reek of oil and dust. The bushy, black eyebrows free from all worries and not arched down when lookng at you. Seeing the short, and unkempt locks of hair kept exactly as he did as a youngster, dark and thick as the midnight sky, that would often fall over his crinkled eyes, and ever so gently weave with every pant you took had you cover your mouth and eyes for moment. You needed a moment - please, please, - to not go mad and fall down on this thing's feet. Gingerly opening one eye, as if one look at it would curse you, your watery gaze travelled up and down its face. There was a clear bone structure to be seen around the jaw and cheek bones. You feared it might be felt too for how real it seemed, how the shadows were cast on the rest of its neck, that did not pulse, and the white, flawless blouse lovingly placed on its figure. The lips were full and pink with something that could not be paint - you swore it on your life - and neither could the perfect, glass skin be. A familiar teint that almost made you urge to reach out and touch it.

The nose was a perfect shape, littered with heavy and dark freckles that began from the chin and travelled up to the even forehead. They congegrated the most across the cheeks, like stars in the sky that created a constellation. A few small, lone stars were near and on its lips.

Carlo didn't have any freckles.

"Uncle, what is that?" Your voice cracked as you stifled a sob. The man in turn, only strode to the thing's side. One hand on the head rest and the other on the arm rest. He was careful not to touch it. "A miracle, I've told you. He is special and he needs to be completed." His voice was laced in something you wished to forget. The times where he chastised you, when he stared at you with such disappointment, when he completely looked down on your injured hand that his puppet caused. "He barely knows the outside world. The legion arm keeps falling out of his socket and the lad doesn't know how to talk and walk." Instinctively, you snapped your head to the metal arm to the right, fastened by belts on the upper arm to keep it from falling. It was thicker than the other limbs, littered with golden joints and much more advanced than any other puppet part you have ever seen.

With fear in your wide eyes, you looked back to Geppetto.

He looked back with an small and expectant gaze. In his hand, an opened box with a golden clump in it, the thick cables hanging from the edges. A clock was installed, ticking away.

"Something as special as him needs love to blossom into what he needs to become. He needs you, (Name)."

𝐸𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑓 𝑃𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝟷; 𝑆𝑙𝑢𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟

[the1975attheirverybest]

Real Life – Chapter 2: The First Date

I AM VERY VERY RUSTY AND THIS IS MESS BUT WE GOTTA START SOMEWHERE.

Read chapter 1 here

See character list here

more tidbits under the tag #real life fic or #matty x claire

Matty’s bloodshot eyes caught his own reflection in the glass display of the store in front of him. He turned around to face away from it, recoiling from the truth of his appearance. The silence in the air was deafening. It pained him to walk around his old haunts and see “for sale” signs where booming businesses once existed. Luckily, the pounding headache brought on by his hangover prevented him from dwelling too long on the grim reality. He flinched when he felt a drop of water against his neck, slapping it, annoyed. Moments later, he felt another drop, this time straight to his head. 

“Fucks sakes.” He glanced up, realizing that rainfall was imminent. The news of rain wasn’t as bad as its consequence: he now had to face the choice that he’d been putting off all afternoon. He needed to decide whether to go home, or to find a place to kill a few more hours in; a cafe perhaps, or someplace to at least buy an umbrella. 

Groaning, he lifted the collar of his jacket to shelter under it and rushed into the first open business that he could spot out of the corner of his eye.

“Good afternoon, hello!” A young person, with bright blue hair and a nose piercing greeted Matty from behind the register. Their name tag read “Shay.”  He was at a bookstore.

Matty nodded, awkwardly, giving Shay an obligatory wave as he stumbled his way in. 

“Can I help you find anything?” Shay asked. 

“Erm….this is quite….is it offensive to come into a bookstore and ask for non-book related items?” He shrugged "feels sort of...offensive."

“Pardon?”

“Looking for an umbrella.” Matty cleared his throat. “If….that’s alright.”

“Oh! Not a problem. Our merchandise is right over there.”

Shay had pointed him in the right direction, but Matty had already gotten distracted by a clever book title and wandered off. 

“No, sir! To your left." there was no use in calling after him, he’d already trailed off, gravitating towards a sign by the stairs, and, eventually, descending the stairs into the special events area.

Shay dreaded having to let him walk right into an author's reading.

***

A woman stood behind a lectern, looking down at the book in front of her, reading aloud. 

The next time he sees her is the last time. She’s standing across the room with a bunch of important men in suits, a lipstick-stained cigarette between her fingers. He can't help but notice how the men hang on her every word. He thinks about going up to her but chooses not to. Maybe if he'd chosen differently that night, his final memory of her could've been different. Maybe he would've remembered a different woman than the one who had flashed into his mind upon reading of her death, but for better or for worse, he blinks, and she's gone.

"Thank you," Claire smiled, graceful, at her captive audience.

Matty recognized her smile as the same one she gave her audience that night at the charity event, right after her speech, moments before she'd disappeared into the ether. Quietly, he found a seat in the back row of the packed room and shuffled into it.

"That was...wow." the host, a critic of some sort, whose name Matty had clocked on the sign upstairs but had already forgotten, motioned, breathlessly, for Claire to come back to her seat. "Thank you for sharing that with us....So, I'm glad you chose to read the ending because it has sparked quite the conversation among readers." The host glanced at her notes, "I wanted to ask you, did you always know you were going to end the book this way?"

****

Matty could see her more clearly now that attendees began to empty their seats and form a line for the signing. I remained in his chair, watching her, wondering if he should go up to her. What would he even say? 'hi, remember me? you invited me to your event and i as rude to you.'

He walked around the edges of the room, scanning the shelves, absorbing the conversations around him, and eying her book. He picked up, leafing through it, and eventually settling into a corner to read.

When he finally looked up from the book again, the crowd had mostly thinned out. It was still raining outside and he was still without an umbrella. across the room, he saw Claire leave the signing table.

“Claire!” Jazmyn squeezed her elbow to get her attention, pulling her towards a woman with a press badge. “This is Raven Burner.”  Jazmyn offered a preemptively apologetic smile. "Raven, this is Claire."

“Hi! I’m with People Magazine. I was wondering if you had time for just a few quick questions? Big fan of your-“

“People Magazine?!” Claire’s voice revealed a little too much of her feelings towards the publication. She hadn’t intended to be so rude, but she knew that they were after more than just her writing process, or details about her next project. Her eyes darted around the room in avoidance, looking for an escape plan. Among the sea of faces, stacks of books, her eyes locked on someone else’s. Big, brown eyes, that pierced through her. 

Matty stepped forward. “Erm, Claire? S-sorry to interrupt but…our reservations.”

“Reservations?” she echoed him faintly.

Jazmyn eyed them, suspiciously. 

“Yes!” Matty insisted. “For our date. That we’re going on. right now.” He made a show of checking the time. “We really should get going. If we don’t want to be late. I know how much you love their dessert.”

“Oh.” Claire sighed, “oh! Right! Yes, of- of course. Our- date.”

He offered her his arm and she accepted. “Excuse us. Thanks.”

***

"Thank you." Claire unhooked her arm from his once they were outside. "You didn't have to do that."

Matty smiled, "felt like I owed it to you." he unwrapped his brand new umbrella. "I'm-"

"Matt Healy, I know."

His brows scrunched.

"Or, as I like to call you, Robin Hood."

Matty rolled his eyes. "You remember me then?"

"Rich guy who hates rich people. I tend to remember people who talk shit about me at my own events." she giggled

"It's Matty, by the way, if we're being accurate." He opened the umbrella. "And, I'm sorry about the Robin Hood thing. I...had no idea who you were, and....I tried to find you after the- umm...anyway, I'm sorry."

"Relax, you look like you're gonna sweat through your coat. I'm just messing. It's all good. I have buckets of money what do I care, right?" The blank expression on his face made her laugh harder. "oh, unclench your ass, it's just a joke."

She inched closer to shelter under his umbrella as they stood on the sidewalk. He lit a cigarette and she asked to bum one off him. She was a firm believer that cigs tasted better in the rain somehow.

“It’s quite good.” Matty said as he squashed the end of his cigarette on the concrete. “Your book, I mean. I’m only a few pages in, but I like it so far. 

“You sound surprised.”

“Not surprised….just….” 

She made him nervous and he hated it.

She crossed her arms over her chest, the cold beginning to get to her. "Anyway, thanks for the cig. Oh, and, thanks for umm...." she nodded in the direction of the bookstore. "these vultures, they won't stop prying about my...." she seemed to get lost in her thoughts as she watched the journalists, inside, surround her publicist. She snapped out of it, turning her attention back to Matty. "Anyway, nice to see you again, Matty."

"Erm...no, wait!" he blurted out as she turned to walk away. "Our date! we have reservations"

she furrowed. "They're not real. I thought...."

"They can be. I know a place not too far from here. You like Italian?"

[noforkingclue]

So, if you fine with yandere and "The Boys", then what about the obsessed father and son, who really want Y/n to become part of "their family"? Homelander and Ryan saw you as their ideal wife and mom, and now, they are literally everywhere. They have completely filled your whole life. These two are not taking their eyes off you, they want you completely for themselves. Ryan wants you to be his mom, John wants you to be his. They both want you to adore them.

Note: requests are currently closed

Yep, I'm fine with writing dark fics! My very first full length fic was a dark one so I have no issue writing for it.

Hope you like the fic!

Title: Happy Family

Warnings: dark fic, implied future forced pregnancy, Homelander

The Boys tag list: @captainofmybigwetdream, @scraftsku35, @zannemes, @holy-minseok

Everything tag list: @greenrevolutionary, @byebyebreezywrites, @spngingerbread21, @layazul, @lov3vivian, @simonsbluee

“Mum!”

Ryan ran towards you and wrapped his arms tightly around you. It was like being squeezed by a vice and when you tried to pry him off all you did was cause him to tighten his grip. Ryan looked up at you with sad eyes and you quickly looked away. He used to be such a sweet child and then Homelander got his hands on him. A strong hand gripped your shoulder and you swore you felt your bone creek under its grip.

“That’s right Mum,” Homelander’s voice was like honey, “Run along now champ. Mum and I need to have a little chat.”

“Ok!”

Ryan gave you one last squeeze before running off into the garden. You rubbed your side but Homelander quickly ushered you back into the house. Well, more like practically dragged you. He let you go and you stumbled forward, grabbing hold of the kitchen counter to prevent you from falling to the floor. You would not allow yourself to cower at his feet.

“So,” Homelander said, eventually shattering the silence, “I thought this was settled.”

“What do you mean?”

Homelander waved his hand at the surroundings. Admittedly, they were very luxurious. There would be no way in hell that you’d ever be able to afford all of this. Unfortunately, the price that came with it was not one you wanted to pay. However, Vought seemed willing enough to pay that price for you whether you wanted them to or not.

“Don’t lie to me, dear.”

“I never would. Not to you.”

In a flash Homelander has his hand curled around your neck. He slammed you against the wall and pushed his fingers against your neck. You grasped his hand, desperate for him to let go. All you managed to do was to cause Homelander to grin and press his forehead against yours.

“I can hear your heartbeat,” he whispered, “You’re lying to me. I told you not to lie to me.”

“Let her go!”

Suddenly Homelander was pushed away from you. Ryan was glaring at him and had his arms tightly wrapped around you again.

“You promised,” he said, his voice cracking ever so slightly, “You promised you wouldn’t hurt Mum again.”

You put your on to of Ryan’s head and gently patted it. Ryan pressed his face against your stomach and you couldn’t help but feel vaguely relieved that he was there. Who knows what would’ve happened if he hadn’t saved you. Homelander’s expression faltered for a second before his smile returned.

“It’s ok,” he said, ruffling Ryan’s hair, “Mum and I were just having a little… chat that’s all.”

“You were?”

“Home-“

Homelander gave you a steely look and you said,

“John, listen. We need to talk about this. I’m not Ryan’s mother.”

Deadly silence followed. Homelander’s smile becoming stiff and didn’t quite reach his eyes and you heard Ryan sniff.

“Dad said-“

“It’s ok Ryan,” Homelander pulled Ryan towards him and put his hands on his shoulders, “It’s unfortunate but some people hold these views.”

“What views?” you asked desperately

Homelander pouted mockingly and said,

“That to be your mother you have to have given birth.”

“What? I don’t believe that!”

“Then why do you keep saying that you’re not my mum?” asked Ryan

“Because…. It’s just… you see…”

“I think what Mum means is that she needs time,” Homelander’s manic grin returned, “But it’s ok. Once you have a sibling this will be easily mended.”

[bellaxgiornata]

Falling For the Devil [Part seventy-nine: "The Hell Day"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: You stay home from work because you're having a terrible day on your period.

Or

Matt stops by for a surprise visit and offers you comfort in more ways than one.

[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock.]

Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut (like...a lot of it later in the series), language, some violence

Word Count: 2.9k

a/n: This is a little hurt/comfort fic while Reader is on her worst day of her period. And there's some Sweet Matty comforting Reader and some moving in discussions! Our next installment is titled "The Revisitation of Moving In" that I'll hopefully be sharing later this week! You can find the entire list of installments for this series on tumblr here.

Tag List: @stilldreaming666 @mattkinsella @ninacoette @murdocksclient @madscamp02 @1988-fiend @lina-mar @pinkratts @schneeflocky (I apologize if I missed someone or if any of these tags didn't work! Some of you might have search settings turned off on your account so I can't actually tag you!)

Curled up on your couch absently watching the food channel, your arms were wrapped around your abdomen as you groaned in misery. Your whole body ached, especially your lower back, and you'd been feeling nauseous since early this morning when you'd woken up. You'd had a headache for the past five hours that just wouldn't go away no matter how much water you drank or ibuprofen you took. 

You were on day two of your period–also known as Hell Day. Since it was Friday and you'd felt like death, having woken up long before your alarm had gone off and been unable to fall back asleep because your cramps were just that painful, you'd called off work. Last night had been one of those rare nights that Matt hadn't stopped by as Daredevil because he'd stayed home working on a case, so you'd thankfully not had to wake up to him witnessing how miserable you were. 

While you'd avoided Matt over that first period week you'd gotten months ago, right after the two of you had gotten together, you hadn't continued that trend for most of the periods that followed after. Though admittedly you had often managed to find a way to avoid him one way or another on Period Hell Day for months now, so he'd yet to encounter you on the absolute worst day of your period. Which you'd been grateful for, because generally you were more of an emotional mess than usual, and that's exactly how you'd felt today, as if you were one random, small thing away from crying. Again .

A knock at your apartment door drew your eye towards it, a deep frown settling onto your face. There could only be one person who would be here knocking on your door at almost seven on a Friday night. You closed your eyes, rolling over and burying your face in the pillow you'd been lying on. Another groan left you yet again. 

"I don’t feel good tonight, Matt," you grumbled into the pillow. “Leave me to my misery.”

"You and I both know that I'm not going to do that," Matt's distinctive voice came from the other side of the door. “Let me in, sweetheart.”

“I don’t want you to see me like this,” you protested, face still buried in the pillow.

“Then it’s a good thing I’m blind,” he quipped back, amusement clear in his tone.

“ Matt ,” you whined.

You heard the clear rumble of his chuckle outside of your door, the sound of it drawing your face from its hiding place. It had been yesterday afternoon since you last saw him for lunch and you certainly had missed him–despite how pathetic it was to admit because it had barely been over twenty-four hours.

"I brought mint ice cream?" Matt called hopefully through the door. “And it’s uh, probably going to melt on me if you leave me out here.”

“Why didn’t you lead with that?” you called back.

You pushed yourself upright on the couch with a grimace, your cramps somehow feeling worse now that you weren’t curled in the fetal position. 

“Because I sort of thought my girlfriend would be happy for some company and comfort tonight?” he responded. "Didn't expect that I'd need to bribe her to answer the door."

Eyes narrowing, you rose to your feet, shuffling your way to your apartment door. Your right hand was pressed to your bloated abdomen like it was going to keep your insides from somehow falling out of you while you walked. Quickly unlocking your door with your left hand, you swung it open to reveal Matt’s handsome and smiling face. He held up the container of mint ice cream he had in fact brought over in one of his hands. 

“What the hell does that mean?” you asked him suspiciously, eyes still narrowed as you ignored the ice cream. “Why would you think I want company and comfort tonight?”

Matt’s smile immediately fell, his dark brows drawing together, a crease forming between them. His head slowly shifted to the side as he pursed his lips. There was a long moment that he stood in your doorway looking confused as he remained silent.

“Because you’re…on your period?” he eventually answered carefully. “And I know you usually don’t feel well?”

“How do you know I’m on my period?” you questioned him.

Matt’s head tilted further to the side, his dark brows almost entirely disappearing behind the red lenses of his glasses now. “This…this feels like a trick question,” he said slowly. “I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to answer that.”

You shook your head quickly, hugging both arms over your stomach as if that would somehow block Matt’s heightened senses from picking up on anything from your body. “No, ew, definitely don’t answer that ,” you agreed. “I meant I haven’t seen you today, how would you know?”

“I saw you yesterday, sweetheart,” he pointed out. 

“But I hadn’t told you I was on it because I just had–” you stopped, eyes going wide when Matt’s expression turned sheepish. “Oh my God , you could still tell ?” When he opened his mouth you immediately shook your head again, throwing a hand up from your stomach to stop him. “No, please do not actually answer that.”

“It’s not a big deal, sweetheart,” he said gently.

“Says you !” you shot back.

“So you’re just going to leave me to let this mint ice cream melt all over my hands in your hall then?” he asked.

“Obviously not,” you said, stepping aside.

Matt took a slow, careful step into your apartment, almost as if he was wary that you really didn’t want him here. Your shoulders sagged at the sight, shutting the door after him.

“Sorry, I’m a hormonal mess,” you apologized. “I feel horrible and I wasn’t expecting you to stop by tonight and now I’m just overthinking your senses. Again .”

You accepted the ice cream from Matt, turning and bringing it to the kitchen to keep in your freezer for now. Behind you, you heard Matt slipping out of his shoes.

“You know you really don’t need to do that,” he told you. “Overthinking my senses about things.”

“Sort of hard not to do,” you mumbled. “Overthinking is sort of my thing.”

You made your way back towards the living room where Matt was pulling his dark glasses from his face. His eyes were tracking your movement as he leaned over to set the glasses onto your coffee table, the smile growing on his lips as you made your way towards him.

“If you’re ever actually going to move in with me,” he said, “you’re kind of going to have your period around me, sweetheart. And you know it doesn’t bother me. I’ve told you that a hundred times now.”

Sighing dramatically, you once again hugged your arms across your bloated stomach as you came to a stop in front of him. “Try getting my overthinking mind to believe you,” you replied.

He chuckled lightly, his hands reaching out and landing on your shoulders. He gave them an affectionate squeeze that drew a small smile onto your face.

“I have been trying that for awhile now,” he pointed out. “Clearly it’s not an easy feat to accomplish.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, “because all I can think about are the gross things you’re picking up on when I’m like this. And I’m…” you trailed off, lips clamping together before you could admit what was on your mind.

Matt’s face shifted to something serious instantly, clearly sensing your hesitation. His eyes were scanning around your face curiously. “You’re what?” he prompted.

Chewing your lip, you gazed down at your coffee table. Could you really verbalize something so gross and ridiculous to Matt? The last thing you felt like doing right now was discussing your period with the man you wanted to still find you attractive when you weren’t bleeding in a few more days.

“Hey,” he said, his tone softer as he gripped your shoulders a little tighter, “you can tell me anything. What’s bothering you?”

“It’s just…if I move in with you, you’re right,” you admitted quietly. “I’ll be having my period around you. Like all the time.”

“Yes,” Matt agreed. “I am aware that it's a monthly occurrence. And I don’t have a problem with that.”

“But like…” you continued, your eyes locked on your coffee table because you could not look at him, “that means I’ll, you know, be…disposing of period-related things. At your place. All the time."

Matt let out an amused snort that quickly drew your eyes to his face. He bit his bottom lip, shaking his head quickly.

“Sorry, sorry, I really don’t mean to laugh,” he said immediately. “I’m not–not trying to make light of your feelings, but sweetheart, it’s just blood. I bring enough blood home on a near nightly basis. I don’t care. It doesn't bother me. And for the record, it would be our place."

“But you have the nose of a bloodhound–”

“Better, actually,” he cut in.

“Matt!” you shrieked, to which he only chuckled again. “That’s not helping!”

"You're right, I'm sorry," he said, the grin still on his face. "Just trying to lighten the mood."

You shifted awkwardly on your feet before him, other anxious thoughts about living with Matt crossing your mind. As if sensing that, his hands slid down your shoulders, making their way down your arms until they wrapped around your own hands. 

"Hey, let's sit," he suggested gently. 

Matt led you back towards your couch, the pair of you settling down onto the cushions beside each other. He kept his hold on your hands, that serious expression back on his face as he gazed at you. 

"What's on your mind, sweetheart?" he asked. "Tell me."

"I just–just worry about all the things you're going to pick up on if I move in with you," you confessed. "Things I'm not aware of because of your heightened senses."

Matt murmured your name, the sound drawing your eyes up to his face. Nervously you chewed your lip, Matt's thumbs rubbing lightly over the backs of your hands. 

"You've spent so much time with me already, sweetheart," he pointed out. "Staying the night at my place or me staying here. And I'm still here not grossed out by you." One corner of his lips curled upwards as he added, "And I lived with Fog during college for years . Share an office with him almost every day of the week now. You're not going to gross me out or whatever you're afraid of."

"Well Foggy isn't hoping you're still attracted to him at the end of the day," you blurted. 

Matt's mouth twisted into a bigger grin in response. "Well that would mean I'd have to be attracted to Fog at the beginning of the day," he teased.

You sighed deeply, not wanting his jokes right now. Quickly picking up on that, Matt sent you an apologetic smile. 

"I'm serious, Matt," you admitted awkwardly. "If we live together, you'll be around me all the time. Every bad day I have and every morning of my gross morning breath. And every period where I'm super gross, like right now. And every time–"

"Hey," Matt cut you off firmly, squeezing your hands. "I want every moment with you, sweetheart. All of it. The good and the bad. I want you with me. And you are not super gross right now," he stated sharply. "You never are. Nothing is going to make me love you or want you any less."

You couldn't help the sting of tears that pricked at your eyes or the way your lips had begun to tremble as Matt's words hit you hard. His brows drew together on his forehead as he noticed your body’s reaction. 

"Sweetheart?" he asked, his eyes softening as they focused near your own. "Why're you crying?"

Tears had already quickly begun falling down your cheeks in hot, wet steaks. You sniffled loudly, fighting to keep your voice as even as you could when you spoke. 

"Because I'm hormonal as fuck, Matt," you sobbed. "And you're so fucking charming and sweet. And I love you." You slipped a hand out of his hold as you gestured behind you towards your kitchen. "And you brought me my favorite ice cream on my worst damn day of the month!"

His brows knitted further together, the crease between them deepening on his face. The corner of his mouth twitched downwards. "Those are all–all good things though," he pointed out carefully. 

"I know!" you agreed, your voice cracking. 

His head tilted to the side as he studied you for a moment. "So you're…happy?" he clarified.

"Yes!" you exclaimed. "I'm incredibly hormonal and you're being really great and it's making me cry! But I also cried watching House Hunters earlier, too." 

He laughed lightly, pulling you into his chest and wrapping his arms around you. One of his large hands began soothingly running up and down your back as you buried your face into his dress shirt. You quickly soaked the material with your tears as your arms wrapped around him in return, balling the material in your fists. That familiar scent of him surrounded you and you buried your nose further into his shirt. A moment later you felt him pressing a kiss into your hair.

"I love you, Matty," you said into his chest. 

"I love you, too, sweetheart,” he murmured. “How about I get changed and I come cuddle you on the couch?" he offered. "I can give you a back massage if you lay on me. I can hear how sore your back is."

"You've had a long week yourself," you replied, sniffling again. "Both in and out of the office. I'm not going to ask you to do that."

"Well you're not," he pointed out. "I'm offering. Here, let me up."

Reluctantly you released your hold of him, Matt rising up from the couch. He shot you a smile, murmuring he'd be right back back before you watched him disappear down your hall to your bedroom. 

With a sigh you settled back onto your couch, your eyes focusing back on the food channel. It was a few minutes before Matt returned no longer in his work attire. Instead he padded down your hallway barefoot in a pair of gray sweatpants with a tee-shirt in one hand. 

"Shirt or no shirt?" he asked, stopping before you on the other side of the coffee table. 

Your lips parted in surprise as your eyes raked over his bare torso, every defined inch of him on clear display in your living room. Matt grinned devilishly at you, tossing his shirt onto the coffee table before he made his way back to you. 

"That answered my question," he said, amused.

He sat down on the couch, drawing his feet up as he maneuvered behind you. And then he opened his arms to you, waving you over with a smile. 

"Come here, sweetie," he whispered. "Let me help you feel better."

You gradually climbed up on top of him, nestling your head just below his chin as your legs rested between his on your couch. While your right hand slid up to grasp his shoulder, your left hand landed along his chest beside your face, fingers absently running along his bare, warm skin that felt amazing against your bloated abdomen. Matt’s own hands settled onto your lower back, his palms beginning to press in the exact right spot against your aching muscles. It was only a matter of seconds before your eyes were closing and you were sighing in relief and contentment. 

“You’re really, really good at that,” you whispered, relaxing into him beneath you.

“Sort of easy when I can hear your body that well,” he replied gently.

“And that made it weird,” you pointed out.

Beneath you, Matt let out a rumbling laugh that had you bouncing along him with the movement, which in turn had you giggling. Burying your face into his chest as you laughed, you felt his hands pause their movement to hold you tight to him, his nose nuzzling into your hair as his warm chuckle filled your ears. When both your laughter subsided, Matt placed a kiss into your hair before his hands resumed their movement on your back. You gradually eased back into him beneath you, your eyelids dropping. 

“You know,” Matt began, his tone catching your attention instantly, “I hear orgasms help relieve cramps.”

Your eyes instantly grew wide, your jaw dropping in response to what he’d just suggested. There was a rumble of laughter beneath you again as you raised your head from his chest, staring down at him in shock.

“Matthew!” you shrieked.

His eyes crinkled at the corners, his smile growing wider. “Oh that one warranted my full name, did it?” he teased.

Heat crept its way up your cheeks as you buried your face back into his chest. “Oh my God ,” you groaned, voice muffled.

“I’m just letting you know that I am more than happy to help,” he told you, amusement in his voice. “Just so you know for the future.”

“I am officially embarrassed and uncomfortable,” you mumbled, still hiding your heated face against him.

“I strongly believe that one day you’ll take me up on that,” he mused, his hands still working the muscles of your aching lower back. 

“Doubt it,” you disagreed.

He chuckled yet again, his hands managing to relax you back down from the topic of conversation. Slowly you shifted until your cheek was once again resting along his chest.

“Mmm,” Matt hummed out. “Guess we’ll see who’s right eventually.”

[onthewaytosomewhere]

💚thanks ever so much for the tags my dears @sophie1973 @theprinceandagcd @henryspearl @myheartalivewrites @sheepywritesfics

@suseagull04 & @taste-thewaste 😘

so after posting that lil fic on Sunday I've moved right back to what I need to be working on ... my fic for the @ficwip dark & cozy event

so i played with a lil art for it and wrote some words last night so it's moving along (even if it has a fair bit to go yet lolz) (even if i really wanna work on the new liam/pez i started last night as well)

putting this all beneath the cut cuz a bit of art (still also WIP) and words shared today 💚

i'm really torn on these i really kinda like the coffee shop sign and not sure if need to work it into the title card or keep it so they just share similar elements and post both with the fic... or if i even really like the title card - i suppose that's why its a wip lolz

and now here's (wonderwall) words from the same fic 💚

“Thanks, Nora swears that I’ve become more of a klutz since the change, and I don’t need any more reasons for her to threaten to spend all my money on new cups for this place.” The smile Henry gives him as he hands the cup and saucer to Alex almost seems shy, and it should appear out of place on someone who’s lived as many lives as he has, but Alex can’t help but think how it makes him want to kiss him. It’s as if some force he can’t explain is pulling him toward Henry. He’s been able to resist the pull for the sake of not wanting to come on too strong, but really, it’s getting harder not to make a fool of himself over Henry. There’s a moment when time seems to freeze between them, and then Alex is brought out of it when Henry speaks, “Well, we can’t have that; you need that money to take me out once you finally work up the courage to ask.” Alex drops the cup in his hand, and once again, Henry catches it before it can hit the floor, this time setting it back on the table. “I’m sorry … what?! … how …” Alex takes a deep breath, begging his mind to stop acting like a computer that has blue-screened, and continues, “So, you’d be up for that?” Henry smiles at him, and Alex’s already fast-beating heart stutters, “Well, as good as your tea is, it’s not the only reason I frequent your shop.” “But, you’ve never said anything. Hell, you barely talk past your order most nights unless I talk to you first.” “To be fair, you never said anything either, but I’m not as brave as this moment would have you believe. I may have spent too much time around Pez lately, and well, if I have to hear him tell me one more time that I should ‘suck it up and say something so I could suck what I really wanted,’ well, it will be one more time too many, truly.” “Huh, so ‘ya vaaant to suck my bluuudd’ do ya?” Alex replies with his worst stereotypical vampire accent. He rakes his eyes over Henry’s body and waits until Henry takes a drink of his tea to continue, “There’s definitely a few things I wouldn’t mind getting my mouth on.” Henry nearly chokes on the tea, and Alex never actually realized that vampires could choke, but apparently, that’s a thing that can happen. Henry looks at him, blue eyes full of mirth, and smirks, “Noted.” Alex nearly falls over when the bell above the door chimes; so much for his Were instincts being strong when he’s lost in flirting with pretty men or … well, vamps. Before turning to the customer entering, he whispers, “We will be coming back to this later.” Henry gives him one of those damn enigmatic smiles of his, and Alex nearly tells the customer to leave so he can stay there flirting with him. However, once he turns and sees who it is, he knows that won’t be happening.

i'm just gonna slap some tags down here so if i miss ya and ya wanna do this consider this ur big ole open tag!!

no-pressure tag ur it! to @adreamareads @anincompletelist @blueeyedgrlwrites @caterpills @duchessdepolignaca03

@england-would-fall @firenati0n @firstsprinces @forever-fixating @getmehighonmagic

@heysweetheart-writes @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @inell @inexplicablymine @itsmaybitheway

@jmagnabo92 @littlemisskittentoes @mikibwrites @nocoastposts @priincebutt

@softboynick @sparklepocalypse @stellarmeadow @tailsbeth-writes @thesleepyskipper

@thinkof-england @tinyarmedtrex @typicalopposite @everwitch-magiks @cricketnationrise

@myheartalivewrites @porcelainmortal @eusuntgratie @bigassbowlingballhead @captainjunglegym

@cha-melodius @kiwiana-writes @judasofsuburbia @doublecheekedkinard @cricketnationrise

(i realize it's no longer wednesday for some of ya and some of ya may have already done this but - my fingers typed ur name so 'hi' if that's the case lolz)

[may--hawk]

Writer's Interview Meme

I was tagged by @possibility-left - thanks! This was a blast to noodle over.

How many works do you have on ao3?

34 works if you don't count each chapter of the mixtape series as its own oneshot - which I do. If you count it that way, it's 75 works.

What’s your total word count?

353,780.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. some of these days, AKA the South Downs one.

2. always crashing (in the same car), AKA the time loop one.

3. fall at the foot of thee, which was a huge surprise to me! Yet another "they're not talking" fic. (Mind the rating).

4. this must be the place, which was my first experiment in writing a multi-chapter plotty fic. AKA the Orpheus one.

5. you are wild (i'm in your possession) AKA my first "they're not talking" fic. (Another mind the rating).

Do you respond to comments? Why/why not?

Yes! I am overjoyed when people take the time to comment. Each and every comment I've received is wildly precious to me. Responding to comments has led to a few fantastic friendships. <3

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

always crashing (in the same car), AKA the time loop one. Or, in the mixtape series, love song from a dog.

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

some of these days, AKA the South Downs one. Or, in the mixtape series, here comes the knight (AKA the Lady Aziraphale one.)

Do you write crossovers?

I wrote my first crossover recently - a Good Omens/Jeeves and Wooster crossover, featuring Jeeves as an honest-to-goodness demon. All Hail Jeeves. Probably the one and only crossover I will write, but it begged to be written.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

I have not. Maybe way back in the day, but if so, it's blocked out of my memory by now.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I do, but tend to keep it pretty tame (in my opinion) as far as these things go. It's more about the opportunity for *pining*, y'know?

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

I have not; although I have had someone kind enough to ask, I'm tentative on the real-world applications.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I have not!

What's your all-time favourite ship?

I've shipped Aziraphale/Crowley for nearly two decades. It's got to go to them. (I cannot adequately explain how wild it is to me that they are canon in the TV show!)

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

@possibility-left I definitely want to read your WIP if you ever finish it! No pressure!

For my own WIP I will likely never finish, I've got a through-the-ages fic with Aziraphale and Crowley, working title the first love of the world. The reason I think I'll never finish it is that I keep robbing from it to write one-shots. I think it may end up dissected and spread across a hundred different possibilities.

What are your writing strengths?

I think I can pull a reader into a scene in all its details. (I hope). I enjoy world-building a broader history outside the immediate scope of the story, namely through footnotes and backstories (which I usually get inspired by to write other stories).

What are your writing weaknesses?

Ha. Emotionally satisfying happy endings in longer pieces. A complete and utter inability to use the right "awhile" (thanks @benjamental for your eternal corrections.)

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

All English for me so far*- if it were relevant for the characters and story I would do it as necessary.

*This being said, I've got two Greek words in an upcoming fic that I put in Greek, because it was relevant to the character and what I was trying to convey.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Stargate Atlantis, Sheppard/McKay. But that was in another country, and besides, that livejournal* is dead.

*WOW I went digging for that old livejournal and, although it is deleted, found caches of me apparently writing in a ton of fandoms I'd completely forgotten I'd written for. That was a trip.

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

Discworld, VetVimes. I've got half a rough draft started but haven't worked up my nerve yet. STP's voice is such a tough one to nail and I want to make sure I get those two right before I start.

What's your favourite fic you've written?

@possibility-left Your Michael fic sounds awesome and has been added to my TBR list immediately.

For my own fav fic, I love all my children equally.*

*earlier that day: I don't care for Gob.

Short answer? Usually whatever story I'm currently working on, unless it's giving me a hard time, in which case, it rapidly becomes my least favorite story ever.

Long answer? always crashing (in the same car). I'd been writing straightforward fiction for so long that I relished the opportunity to write something a little weird. In the mixtape series, where some of my favorite stuff is, expresso love or real real gone. In other stuff, Doves' Eyes, which is a collection of A&C pining through the ages organized around Aziraphale's eyes, or and into strange vagaries fall, which is a pre-Fall Beelzebub fic where Beelzebub and Crowley are besties up in the Heavenly Engineering & Development Department. I know, I know, I'm sorry I love all my children equally.

Tagging!! Please feel free to take this if you see it - this was an unexpectedly huge amount of fun. My tags are @chlorine-and-daisies, @hopelesslysleepy, @lvndrlondonfog, and @adverbian.

[lunarthecorvus]

Kaz Brekker/Inej Ghafa Major Character Death fanfiction recommendations

part of Lunar's soc fanficiton rec series

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Slipping away by @ven-brekker

Wordcount: 1,689 Chapters: 1/1

Characters: Inej Ghafa, Kaz Brekker

Tags: Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Blood and Injury, Kanej - Freeform, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Pre-Canon, Touch-Averse Kaz Brekker, Whump, Major Character Injury

Author's summary/notes: “Keep talking, Wraith. Don’t slip away from me.” “But it’s what I do best.” - Six of Crows, Ch. 12 Inej waits for her Saints to finally have her. My summary/notes: Now this fic is the of major character death whump. There is no ambiguous ending its a death fic to its end. It cuts deep and would definitely fulfill the death fic mood. It HURTS and will make you bawl.

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for once, my teeth bleed for you by @pbandjeremiah

Wordcount: 1,903 Chapters: 1/1

Characters: Kaz Brekker, Inej Ghafa

Tags: this is upsetting, Major character death - Freeform, Post-Book 2: Crooked Kingdom, Mix of Show and Book Canon, Hurt No Comfort, kaz and inej loving and respecting each other SO DAMN MUCH, i'm sorry this is sad but like, married kanej, shadow summoner kaz, kaz is a grisha

Author's summary/notes: For once, Kaz Brekker didn't have a plan. For once, it was going to cost him all that he had. Kaz and Inej are put on trial for murder and crimes against Ghezen. Neither of them are going to survive this. My summary/notes: This was one of the first kanej death fics I read and I still adore it now. It really shows the lengths kanej will go to protect and respect each others wishes.

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our youth will take the blame by @pinspec

Wordcount: 3,612 Chapters: 1/1

Characters: Inej Ghafa, Kaz Brekker, Jesper Fahey, Wylan Van Eck

Tags: Post-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Denial, Canon-Typical Violence, Angst, Sad Ending, Protective Kaz Brekker, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, kaz is so in love with inej it actually hurts, neither of them can say 'i love you', please don't sue me

Author's summary/notes: A mission goes badly wrong, and amidst the carnage Kaz fails to save his Wraith. My summary/notes: This shit hurts. Just everything about this hurts. However in my opinion the ending provides a sense of comfort at least...

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she was supposed to come back by maryadmitrievnalikesundays

Wordcount: 2,840 Chapters: 1/1

Characters: Kaz Brekker, Inej Ghafa, Wylan Van Eck, Jesper Fahey

Tags: Character Death, Death, Grief/Mourning, Madness, Descent into Madness, Insanity, Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Ambiguous/Open Ending

Author's summary/notes: She was always supposed to return. That was the deal—eight months at sea, four by his side. Eight months of letters and news clippings with her name saved in the locked drawer in his desk. Eight months of yearning, working, killing, waiting for her to come back and give it all meaning. And then The Wraith would roll into port, and the Ketterdam clouds would break, and the King and Queen of the Barrel would walk back home together, hand in hand. But ten months have come and gone since her last departure. And the sky is thick and dense with clouds, and the only thing in his hand is a knife. —— Or, the one thing that could push the Bastard of the Barrel past his breaking point. My summary/notes: I'm not kidding you, the title is enough to make my heart hurt. Be warned that this as depictions of very bad mental health, in case of any triggers <3

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Who lives, who dies, who tells your story by leehab23

Wordcount: 4,717 Chapters: 1/1

Characters: Kaz Brekker, Inej Ghafa, Jesper Fahey, Wylan Van Eck, Nina Zenik, Matthias Helvar

Tags: Sad with a Happy Ending, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Character Death, Some mourners some funerals, I just really think this whole city would go to pieces without him, Some rule of wolves spoilers related to Nina, Book 2: Rule of Wolves Spoilers, Minor violence in the beginning, Minor obstruction of correspondence at the end, somewhat happy I promise, or at least I think so

Author's summary/notes: He continued on, speaking of Kaz’s good deeds, of the great man that lay in hiding behind the terrible one. Of Kaz’s legendary brains, unbelievable grit, and overwhelming impact on the city he called home. As he spoke, he noticed movement in the back of the crowd. Fighting? Fleeing? Wylan couldn’t tell. The ripples grew wider, men and women tripping over themselves to move away from the center of the street. Suddenly a path cleared, as though the crowd had been cleanly torn in half by the point of a sharp knife. “Inej,” Jesper breathed. OR: All of Ketterdam is left reeling in the wake of Kaz Brekker’s death. Despite his frequent objections to the concept, there are mourners and a funeral. My summary/notes: When reading kanej death fics I have noticed that there is less Kaz death fics compared to Inej death fics. So if you're in the mood for a Kaz death fic (I have been many times, don't ask me why but I find it so interesting reading Inej's reaction to Kaz dying). You will feel Inej's pain and it hurts so much. And this fic has Nina helping Nina through the pain and them bonding over dead partners..