#Lynn writes

[laughtalelogs]

sick - sanji x reader

rating - mature, MDNI 18+

word count - 860ish, just a quick blurb

warnings: mentions of your chest and piv, no beta reader, slight sub!sanji if you squint, mutual pining, slight exhibitionism, dirty thoughts, idk how to tag this lol it’s not smut but it’s still kinky

crossposted to ao3 @laughtalelogs

-

As much as Sanji denied it, he knew he was a sick, twisted bastard.

Standing like a shadow in the doorway, despite every cell in his body screaming at him to move, his feet planted firmly in the floor. The filter of his unlit cigarette smashed between his gritting teeth as he watched silently.

The way you ate your parfait entranced him, a beautiful display of skill on his part, layers of fluffy greek yogurt he had prepared the day before with spoiled milk, leftover strawberries, and homemade granola loaded on your spoon. The metal slips between plush lips, and when you pull it back out, it sparkles in the midday sun. The demon that resides in him wonders if his skin would do the same in your mouth.

Your pink tongue darts out to lick the remnants on from the corner of your mouth. He clutches the serving tray closer to his chest and he feels his knees tremble with each carefree swipe.

He wonders if you could taste his desperation in the snack, the way he had thought over each layer, scared that it wouldn’t satisfy the hungers in both of you.

Had he subconsciously picked the snack? He asks to himself, the shame of his perversions pulled him deeper in the shadows of his mind.

No, he knew what he had done.

And he enjoyed it.

That sick part of him wanted to see the white drip down your throat, to watch the satisfaction that spread across your face. He watched your fingers trace the edges of the cup, and he had never been jealous of a meal in his life.

You moan, scrapping the remnants of the bowl, you set it down on the deck beside you, sighing in satisfaction. Sanji didn’t think he’d last, recording the sound in his catalog of fappable material for later, as he stepped forward into the light, plastering his usual plastic, dopey smile as he approached you.

You kick your feet as you turn your attention back to the magazine in your lap, a lazy finger skimming the pages. The darkness he casts over you makes you peer up from the page, watching him reach over and swipe the crystal glass you had only set down a moment before.

“Hey, Ji,” the way you sing his name makes his heart hammer in his chest.

“Hi,” He answered lamely, cringing at how how high his voice had risen. He clears his throat, dry from looking down at you, if he looked closely, he could peer down your shirt. “I was just gonna take this for you. Did you enjoy the treat, princess?”

“Like always,” You smile wickedly, ”you always know how to satisfy me.”

He swallowed nothing, his tongue was cotton.

“I always aim to please,” He admits and he feels floaty, the scent of vanilla and strawberries infiltrating his nose. He turns his head to the side. If you kept looking at him like that, he was going to pass out.

“But,” You voice was low, itching the far reaches of his mind where the beast resides, mauling at his rational thoughts. His tie dangles in front of your face, and you reach out, thumbing the silk as he avoids your gaze. You watch his adam’s apple bob nervously as he tugs at the perfect windsor knot. “I want more.”

“Of cours-“ Sanji stops himself though, cursing himself to the pits of hell.

He had given all the crewmates parfaits, and had let Luffy eat the remaining portion. He feels his brow twitch. That idiot didn’t even appreciate it in the way you had, calling it weird pudding, out of all things. Now he had you, begging for more, and he couldn’t even provide that.

“I’m sorry, mon trésor,” He says, voice full of pity, “we are all out. Would you like anything else? I’ll do- I’ll make anything for you”

With a puckered lips and creased eyebrows, you mull over the idea. He wondered if he could get the same look out of you if he was buried between your legs, fanning feathery kisses in the crux of your thighs, sliding ever closer to your center, inhaling deep breaths of your pu-

“I think I’ll just wait,” You sweet voice breaks through his dazed, glossed over eyes, watching his face contort in horror and guilt.

“If you insist.” He jerks up, stiff as board, gripping the glass in his hands so hard his knuckles were stark white, casting a careful gaze that darted over your body. “I’ll leave you to your afternoon then.”

It was cute on him, you think to yourself. The humiliation caused by his own volition.

You watch him march awkwardly to the kitchen, avoiding Usopp and Chopper’s calls from the other side of the deck. The tray he shielded his lower desires, cup tremoring between deft fingers. You sigh, slumping over as soon as the galley doors slam shut.

A sick, twisted part of yourself wondered- what face would he make caged between your thighs? Maybe it’d be that same pathetic look he gave you on more than one occasion. A look that always wound up a tight coil in your stomach, in desperate need of release.

If only he could just take a hint.

—

I hope you enjoyed! I wrote this on my phone at like 4 am while listening to sza lmao. i’m still avoiding the other shit I need to write, but this was a nice break from them. back to writing for zoro!

liked this? check out my other fics - (x)

[lynn-writes-things]

a god’s obsession

aizen x reader

TW: TOXIC!!!!!!!, nsfw, possessive behavior, sacrilegious/sacrilege, god kink, fingering, penetration, cheating, slapping, choking, biting, hair pulling, a little bit of blood is mentioned?, rough sex, bruises, degradation, dirty talk, brat behavior?, slight dacryphilia, Aizen might be obsessed with you, corruption, mating press, petnames used condescendingly

WC: 2.8k

notes: I haven’t written a full length fic in like several years, please be kind and excuse any mistakes in pacing 😭

He fucks his subordinates a lot.

It’s not like he tries very hard to safeguard that little secret - that he’s screwing most of the girls who follow him behind your back. In a way, you feel pity for them, because they don’t know that he still slinks back into the bed you share after each encounter with one of the little girls that he doesn’t even deem worthy of learning their names - but you’ve been the only “woman” in his life, as he puts it, since you first met him forever ago, back when you both were subordinates to Captain Hirako in squad five.

At first, you resented him for the fact that he was a serial cheater. But, to be fair, you had known fully well what you were getting into when you agreed to marry the man, back in the Soul Society. You knew him - the real him - even back then. Because once you had made the mistake of gaining his trust, there was no going back. He told you everything, never hiding a single detail of his master plan from you. By then, it was already too late for you to even consider leaving him - he’d kill you, you knew it - and nobody would believe you about your claims of his evil deeds anyways, because once he was promoted to Captain, nothing could touch him. He knew it, and so did you, so you let him corrupt you instead. It was an easier task than you’d like to admit.

So now, after growing too tired of his adultery, you decided that you’d even the playing field, but you took it further than he had. He’d sleep around with Arrancars that he considered nothing more than canon fodder, ones who weren’t impressive in the slightest, who could never really join his ranks - but who had a pretty face. But you? Well, you fucked Grimmjow. You fucked him a lot, actually. Any time Aizen pissed you off, or you caught him reeking of another girl’s perfume, you’d seek out the Espada and drag him off somewhere to take out your frustrations.

Needless to say, it infuriated your husband when you came to bed with bite marks on your shoulder and blooming bruises on your thighs and on your hips. He gripped your chin hard enough to hurt, the look in his eyes something you had seen countless times, though never directed at you before, cold and sinister. “Who?” He demanded through clenched teeth.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You had the nerve to snark back with a smirk. The hand on your chin had wrapped around your neck before you had a chance to register it, and he had you pinned to the bed, glaring at you with a fire in his beautiful golden eyes that would’ve surely put the fear of God in anybody else, but only stoked a very different kind of fire within you.

“Yes, my dear, I would in fact very much like to know who is sleeping with my wife.” He growled, low and menacing.

“Well, considering every other woman in Los Noches is sleeping with my husband, I’d consider us even. Wouldn’t you say that’s fair, my love?”

He smirks, a cruel and evil look that only serves to further excite you. “I’ve told you, darling, those aren’t women. They’re merely insects to me, little playthings. Nothing more. You, on the other hand, are quite the woman indeed..”

“If that’s the case then, sweetheart, I believe I’ll keep my little plaything as well.” Your coy smile enrages him, his grip on your neck tightens.

“Only one?”

“For now.”

“Tell me who it is.”

“One of your Espada.” The way you say it so proudly, the sweetness in your tone like a deceptively delicious venom. “I’ll let you guess which.” He doesn’t have to. He knows.

Setting his jaw, you catch the barely perceptible twitch of his right eye as he sneers. “Grimmjow..” His voice is a low growl, you know that you’re in danger, but you like it that way.

“Ohhh, look at that - we have a winner! You know, Sosuke my dear, it’s no fun if you guess right on the first—“ His hand collides with your cheek, leaving a stinging pain in its wake from the force of the slap. Turning to face him once more, you blink at him, your expression down right incredulous, as his is simmering with rage.

“You little whore..” His voice is a warning in itself, yet so very addictive. “Fucking someone like him? I had no idea my own wife was so pathetic.”

“How very rich of you to call me a whore. Do you forget your own sins so easily?” The venom in your voice is the sweetest of poisons, Aizen wishes he could drown in it. He’d give a reply about how he has every right to anything that he wants, as his God-like status demands of him, but at this point in his life, he cannot bring himself to place you below him in such a way. If he’s God, then you are the Goddess he defaults to; you rule beside him, but he would carry out your will with all of the power he possesses - he would destroy the entire world with himself in it if you wished him to. You don’t know that Aizen is truly capable of feeling love, but you once thought Sosuke was. You aren’t entirely sure if you are either at this point - but you do believe that you are as close as he could ever get. He hates it. So do you sometimes.

Instead of speaking, he crashes his lips against yours, hungry and possessive, like he’s trying to claim you all over again. He will remind you of your place - of who you belong to - the only way that he knows how, by absolutely ruining you. He’s more civilized than to rip your clothing off of you, instead he very slowly frees you from your confines, each touch as possessive as it is teasing, like he’s branding you with nothing but his bare hands. Unlike Grimmjow, Aizen knows your body like the back of his hand - knows exactly where to touch, and how to touch, to make you fall apart over, and over, and over again. First, on his fingers, the rough pads of such deft fingers curling into your core, he knows exactly where to hit to make you cry out, and he knows that he’s hit his mark when that telltale gasp leaves your lips - breathless and eager for more, like always, and he’ll give you exactly what you want. His thumb presses lightly to your clit, teasing the bundle of nerves with pinpointed circles, varying the pressure he applies so that you can’t quite get used to how he touches you, but the way that your body responds to each touch tells him that he’s doing a good job.

“Did he touch you like this? Tell me, darling, did his fingers feel better than mine?” The man above you asks, his voice low and daring. All you can do is shake your head, a soft “No, sir,” leaving your lips, and he rewards your answer with a sinister smirk and an increase in the ministrations that you’re sure will make you lose your mind before too much longer. But he won’t keep you waiting long, not tonight - no, in fact, he wants to set a new record for how many times he can make you come undone for him tonight, he will unravel you thread by thread until you’ve completely lost yourself in his silken sheets. Then, like an expert seamster, he will put you back together again, only to thoroughly destroy you once more. Once, twice, three times he sends you over the edge with his skilled hands, until the majority of his forearm is covered in the sweet nectar that he considers sacred. All the more reason he’s enraged that you would dare to give it to another, much less someone he considers to be so far below himself.

His stamina is parallel to none, and you can’t tell if that’s a blessing or a curse right now, as each girthy inch of his cock enters you so slowly that it nearly drives you mad, the smirk on his lips is sinister and smug, his eyes just a touch feral. “Tell me, my love, did he feel as good as me?”

You’d sass him if you didn’t fear for your safety if you pissed him off any further tonight. “No, sir - nobody could ever feel as good as y-you..” Your voice hitches as he bottoms out with a low growl at the way that your warm walls engulf him so nicely. He leans over you, with your legs wrapped snugly around his toned waist, his voice a low rumble in your ear. “You flatter me, dear.. Though, none of my playthings could ever hold a candle to you, either..” It makes you question why he has such an affinity for them, then. You don’t ask - can’t ask - as his hips begin to grind against yours, slowly at first, because he knows the way his trimmed hairs grinding against your already overly-sensitive clit, coupled with his cock buried deep inside of you, drives you absolutely insane. He relishes in the way you writhe beneath him, trapped under him so you cannot get away, not like you would try anyways. He doesn’t care, he won’t take the chance. He’ll keep that pace for only a little. His discipline is usually something that he takes great pride in, but right now he only cares about proving a point, and that becomes obvious as he pulls back until only the tip is left inside, and slams back in with a force that reminds you all too well that this man is, in fact, the most powerful being in this entire realm - perhaps even in all three realms. He sets a steady pace, fast and rough but easily sustainable for him, and his hand once again wraps around your throat, squeezing at the sides until your vision starts to blur, and all you can see is that evil, reverent look in his golden eyes as he sends you over the edge of bliss for a fourth time tonight. A dangerous growl reverberates in his chest from the way you try so very hard to cry out in ecstasy, but are only able to just barely squeak out his name instead.

“Such a good girl you are.. It’s easy to forget what a cheap whore you are as well,” He sneers, his pace becoming more ruthless, expression colder. “Running off and fucking one of my men? You dared to let that overgrown house cat leave such filthy marks on your perfect skin?” You’ve never heard him so angry before. It should not be this hot. His fingers find the bruises Grimmjow left behind, pressing into them harshly, glaring daggers at the bite mark left on your shoulder.

“I’m s-sorry..!” All you can do is gasp, his pace is too punishing to even consider taking a much needed deep breath of air, not with how he has your thighs pressed to your chest - he’s always had a preference for having you in a mating press.

An incredulous scoff leaves his lips, the look in his eyes growing progressively more feral as he speaks.

“You’re sorry?” He echos, laughing bitterly. “I’ll show you sorry - my precious, little, slut..” Each word is punctuated by a thrust, he slows his pace just enough for you to catch your breath, just for a minute, because he can’t have you passing out, not this time. No, you won’t learn if you pass out. Once you’ve had what he deems sufficient oxygen, he bends your thighs further back, your lower back lifting up with them, but he effortlessly holds you in place as if the weight is nothing to him (it’s not), his hips falling back into that brutal pace that’s sending you into orbit. Blunt nails dig into the flesh of your thighs, threatening to break the skin that the man above you had only just called perfect moments before - but if Grimmjow left marks on you, then it's only fitting that your husband leaves more, right?

“Sosuke, I—“ For a second time tonight, your voice is cut off by a slap across your face, this time slightly harder. He doesn’t want to actually hurt you, he’d never dare use any more strength than this on you - you’re still his most precious treasure, after all.

“You will speak only when spoken to.” He demands, one arm wrapped around your leg to keep it over his shoulder, meanwhile the hand that had just slapped you moves to grab a fistful of your hair, pulling a bit harder than he means to, glowering down at you. You’re close again, and he knows it, he knows every sign your body gives, no matter how subtle it may be. A cruel smirk once again graces his full lips. “As a matter of fact.. Apologize to me. And I expect you to do it properly this time.”

The brutal pace of his thrusts slows to allow you to speak, though these slower ones are no less intense.

“I-I’m sorry, my love, I—“ He yanks your hair once more, the smirk dropping from his face almost immediately, eyes narrowing with a warning that you dare not ignore. “Please forgive me, my lord.. I’ve sinned, I- I’ve done something terrible, and I’m so- so very sorry..!” The words tumble out of your lips, and for just a moment, you feel like a child apologizing to a priest in a confessional booth. This might be just as cramped as one of those small booths, just as suffocating - in both instances, you’re still hoping that your words might reach the contemplative ear of a God, only yours is the beautiful man above you, and he is far more vengeful. “I’m sorry, Lord Aizen, I’m sorry!” Your words rise in pitch as you approach yet another little death. The God-like man above you smirks once more, you can tell that he’s pleased.

“Pray for your forgiveness, and I may just look past your insolence.”

“Please grant me mercy, my lord.. I’m so very sorry, please— please forgive me for my sins..!” A rich groan leaves his lips as a tear runs down your cheek, his own release nearing from hearing your desperate prayers, from feeling the way that your walls threaten to squeeze the life out of him, because you love it just as much as he does. His hand leaves your hair, his touch is surprisingly gentle, almost tender, as he wipes away the tear from your cheek.

“You’re forgiven, my delightful little whore,” He practically purrs, his pace speeding up once more - although not nearly as punishing as it had been. “Now, cum for me. I want you to scream my name, make sure everyone hears you..” And you do. Oh God, you do - your hands finding purchase on his strong shoulders, nails digging in hard enough to worry the skin, but it only provokes Aizen to go even harder, only pushes him that much closer to his own release. Sounds of your desperate cries of his name echos off of the walls, and you’re certain others can hear, not that you can be bothered to care at this given moment. Aizen follows you over the edge soon after, a deep groan and a heated husk of your name leaving his lips as teeth find your neck, biting hard enough that he can taste a hint of your blood, but you don’t dare stop him, not when it feels this good.

Slowly, he stills on top of you, lets himself lean over you as he balances on his forearms, letting your legs carefully fall to your sides as his eyes take in your beautifully ruined expression. Once again, his hand comes to your cheek to brush away a few more tears that had fallen in your throes of pleasure. His eyes are softer now, his smile almost gentle, and for just the most fleeting of seconds, he looks like the man that you fell in love with again - he looks like your Sosuke. But you know that he’s not. He never really was. It doesn’t stop you from reaching up, your own trembling hand touching his cheek, thumb gingerly stroking over the peak of his cheekbone.

“You look especially beautiful like this, you know?” His voice is softer now, too. “Such a pretty little thing.. I didn’t hurt you too badly, did I?”

“No.. Not too badly..” You answer, still a good bit out of it. But that’s okay. He leans down, pressing his lips to your forehead.

“You did well, my love. Now, let me get you cleaned up.”

[lynn-reads-and-writes]

heavy in your arms

M | TimKon, JayRoy | 1/6

“Maybe it just wasn’t a good fit. I hear that happens sometimes. Maybe you and the new one will gel better,” Bruce offers.

“Sure, I’m sure I’ll gel with an art therapist.”

Bruce is scoffing before he knows it. “Art therapist? She wants you to fingerpaint?”

Tim snorts a laugh. “I guess. Maybe she’ll see something in the doodles.”

“Maybe.”

-or-

Tim's not the first of Bruce's kids to need a therapist. He certainly won't be the last.

Am I really me if I don't send a character to therapy? Anyway, new fic. New chapter coming soon. Welcome back everyone.

[bitchin-beskar]

Hiii! If requests are open,could I get a fic with our fave blue tin can man paz!! Maybe an alor! Paz and teacher! Reader au where theyre crushing on each other and the children try to get them both together?? Lots of teasing and just general cuteness?? There's not enough paz content on here 😔

Also hope you enjoy your tripp!!! Safe journey 😊

hi!!!! requests will always be open lol, I just cannot promise I'll get to them in any reasonable length of time.

CASE IN POINT

whew. it's been a long ass time. and I am super duper sorry about that. writer's block combined with a AO3 author's note cursed life has really put a damper on me getting anything productive done in terms of my writing.

NO MORE

so this is more of a drabble/ramble than an actual fic, but if you like it, (or anyone else), I will gladly make it into an actual full-length fic!

also tagging @catsnkooks cause I promised I would

without further ado,

Alor!Paz x Teacher!Reader au...

The snickering of small children sent a shiver down your back on the best of days. As much as you loved your students, they were not exactly the easiest to handle when they got in a mischievous mood.

But there was something different about this snickering. It was less stifled, like they weren’t trying to hide their scheming and plotting from you. It also sounded far too giddy, like your precious students had already gotten away with whatever they’d been plotting.

Turning around from where you’d been inscribing the lesson on the board, you eyed your students who were all huddled in a group, their little beskar helmets clinking against each other.

“Hibir’ike,” you called, watching with no small amount of amusement as they all startled and jumped to attention, the blank faces of around a dozen tiny helmets honing in on your unmasked face. “I haven’t even explained the lesson yet and already my students are eagerly discussing the topic.”

Your tone made it clear that you knew they were discussing no such things, but they didn’t seem to quite catch that nuance.

“O-Oh, of course, Baji!” A youngling by the name of Atii chimed up. “We’re super excited-OOF, Denaar, don’t hit me!”

The togrutan boy next to her looked unapologetic, the set of his shouders stubbornly still. “We’re ready to learn, Baji!”

Your eyebrow quirked, and you watched as your students squirmed, but none of them broke under your stare.

Unusual.

But, you weren’t going to look a gift fathier in the mouth, and you had a group of very attentive students in front of you, so you proceeded to turn back around to begin the lesson.

Not even five minutes later, you understood just what exactly your scheming students had been up to.

A knock sounded at the doorway, before a truly humongous Mandalorian stepped through, having to duck slightly to avoid hitting his horned helmet against the top of the door. Your eyes widened, and butterflies began to swirl in your stomach. Still, you managed to keep your voice mostly even as you addressed him.

“Su cuy’gar, Alor Vizsla.”

The classroom was entirely silent, your students practically vibrating in their seats. The poor alor didn’t even have a chance to react to your greeting before a bell rung loudly. You started violently, pressing a hand over your rapidly beating heart. Almost as a unit, your students stood, bowed to the Alor, before quickly filing out of the classroom as they headed to the gym for their recreation hour.

You waited, but after a few moments passed with Alor Vizsla saying nothing at all, you once more broke the silence.

“What brings you to my classroom, Alor?”

The hulking figure jolted slightly, as though he hadn’t been expecting you to speak.

“A-Ah yes, Baji’alor’adiik Beviin. I received your message-?”

Blinking, you felt your features twist in confusion. “Message? I’ve sent you no messages, Alor. And please, Baji is perfectly fine.”

His helmet tilted to the side. “You are the Baji’alor’adiik here, yes?” He waited for your nod before continuing. “I assure you, the message came from your comm code. Is it possible someone hacked you, Baji Beviin?”

You were already circling your desk, picking up your comm to investigate. You couldn’t remember the last time it was out of your sight, so the thought of being hacked was alarming. You clicked through your messages quickly, not seeing anything sent to Alor Vizsla. Then, you checked your deleted messages.

There, hidden amonst the various spam messages was a message that clearly had been sent to Alor Vizsla. You clicked on it with shaking fingers. Had you sent him a message when you were tired and forgotten it? Dear maker, what embarassing things could you have said?

But when the message loaded, it was clear to you just how that message had been sent to Alor Vizsla.

You dropped the comm on your desk, and buried your face in your hands. Your face grew unbearably hot in embarassment and you couldn’t bear to look at the Alor.

Warm hands covered in smooth leather cupped your shoulders, gently guiding you until you were leaning against the edge of your desk. You miserably let him move you, prepared for the lecture about letting your students get ahold of personal comm devices that was sure to come. What if he’d been in the middle of something important? It was absolutely mortifying, and you weren’t sure you’d ever have the courage to face the Alor again.

But then, gentle fingers tucked under your chin, lifting your face until all you could see was his helmet. He was far closer than you’d been expecting, and your face had to tilt up quite a ways to be able to look at him.

“Why do you hide from me, mesh’la?”

All the air in your lungs rushed out in a single breath.

His fingers stayed firm on your chin, not letting you look away as he leaned in close.

“A-Alor-”

“Paz.”

You blinked.

“Say my name, cyare.”

Shame bubbled up in you. “B-but I’m n-not worthy, no one of import-”

A low growl interrupted your stuttered speech. “I am the Alor. What I say, goes.” He paused. “Say. my. name.”

It came out in a whisper, barely more than a breath on the wind, but with his helmet so close, there was no way he hadn’t heard you.

“Paz.”

A shaky exhale sounded through his modulator, and his free hand slid down from your shoulder to wrap around your waist. Gently, oh-so-gently, he leaned his horned helm against your forehead.

[bittlebarnes]

when we were young

Stranger Things | E | Steddie | 4,184 | 1/3 |

“Harrington residence,” Steve says when he answers the phone. “Steve–” It's Dustin. Steve would know his voice anywhere, even when he's choked up and crying. “It’s my mom–” And that’s enough. Steve’s checking to book a plane ticket as soon as he hangs up. -or-

Following the defeat of Vecna, Eddie, Steve, and Robin became inseparable. That is, until an attack shakes the party and leaves Robin and Steve reeling. Afraid for the worst, especially when her parents seem to agree with the violence, Steve offers to marry Robin so they can leave Hawkins together without stigma and shame. Years later, Steve’s called back home from his new life in New York with Robin to support Dustin following Claudia’s stroke. He’s not the only one Dustin called.

It was a sprint at the end, but I'm proud to say I've finished my entry to the @steddiebang of 2023! Super excited to share with all of you. Special shout-outs to the amazing people who helped get this project done. My amazing betas  sarasmiling and house_of_chant for making this fic readable! All the love in the world to my artist artist adreannaness whose work is available on both twitter and her ao3.

[littlefirefox]

this is so dumb but what’s a good crack fic lmao

[zimmerdouche]

writing a fic i’m kind of proud of rn but i feel it may be too spicy for this fandom fhdhdh

[lynnlovesthestars]

Me while writing smut.. cause why did I write a 3 page long incipit for what was supposed to be "plotless smut"😭

My constant struggle when writing PWP

[purrassicjet]

After the events of Junior Year, Fig releases a single called "Complicated". It baffles Cig Figs fans because there was no announcement, just a quiet release. It's also very different from her usual stuff, with a more folksy vibe and only one instrument, an acoustic guitar. It's clear Fig is singing, but she's never been known to play an acoustic guitar.

The song sings of being a teenage adventurer in a world much bigger than yourself, of older men and broken dreams, of mothers and daughters, of betrayal and of new life. Another voice joins Fig's for the last chorus ("I don't want to be perfect, I just want to be complicated" (which is changed from the usual words "I wanna be perfect, but it's all so complicated")), but nobody can figure out who it is.

Fig isn't making it easier to figure out. She never plays the song live, and when asked about who the mysterious other people (the guitarist and the second vocalist) are, she just waves it off with a laugh and says that said person would rather remain anonymous.

It continues to confuse fans until one night, around the middle of Fig's set at a big concert, she tells the crowd that she's going to be doing something new, something she's never done live before.

The crowd waits in anticipation as Sandra Lynn shuffles on stage, holding a beat up old acoustic guitar, covered in paint and hand prints from her Aguefort adventuring party.

Fig introduces her mother, the inspiration for the song, and both the guitarist and the second vocalist.

And for the first time ever, "Complicated" is played live

[thoughtkick]

If you have to speculate if someone loves you and wants to be with you, chances are they don’t. It’s not that complicated. Don’t waste moments waiting and wondering. Don’t throw away your time dreaming of someone who doesn’t want you. No one is that amazing, and certainly not someone who would pass you up.

Donna Lynn

[laughtalelogs]

sanji needs your help! - sanji x reader

I am deathly afraid of bugs he’s so valid for that tbh

I’m imagining him standing on the counter with his phone in his hand shaking like a damn leaf while yapping to you

had this in my drafts for a second! enjoy :)

(more fics are coming soon i promise!)

liked this? check out my fics! (x)

[laughtalelogs]

I will be participating, I think! I can't promise all days, but I think this will help me work on my writing. I'll make a preview post when I have had time to think about it

Join us in the 2024 12 Days of Christmas Challenge as we hope to spread a little ✨holiday joy and cheer✨ through the magic of writing fanfiction & creating art!

About & Rules

The challenge will run from December 13-24, 2024.

The challenge is open to any and all fandoms.

Submissions must include at least one of the prompts for that day but can combine two, three, or all four.

Prompts for the day always include: a word/words, a scenario, a quote, a "famous" quote (taken from songs and movies)

Tag your submissions with #12daysofchristmas2024 and/or mention this blog so that we will be notified to reblog your submissions here. (Also, it would be super cool if you gave this blog a follow!)

Submissions for the day must be posted before midnight YOUR time. We're not super hard-and-fast about this rule, but posting within time is very much appreciated! 

If you’re posting your submission directly on Tumblr (as opposed to linking to an external site such as AO3), you MUST use a “keep reading” cut!

Edit: We're now also allowing ALL KINDS OF ART: drawings, edits, aesthetics, mood boards, videos, podfics, fiber arts... go wild!

!! Absolutely NO AI creations !!

Please format ALL submissions with the following heading:

Title Day/Prompt(s) Fandom/Character(s)/Ship Warnings (if applicable): Word Count/Medium (in case it's art):  Example: Santa, Baby Day 8 - “Prompt(s) for that day” AEW - Adam Page x OC Warnings: Alcohol, cursing, sexual situations (explicit) Word Count: 7,290 or: Medium: fan video

You can also include a summary, gif, edit, whatever you want! Just don’t forget the “keep reading” if you’re posting directly on Tumblr!

2024 Prompts

Day 1 ❄️ First snow ❄️ Getting soaked ❄️ “Your hands are so cold.” ❄️ “I suppose it all started with the snow.” —Frosty the Snowman

Day 2 ❄️ Little lie ❄️ Trapped together in a snowstorm ❄️ “I thought you knew where you were going?!” ❄️ “I don’t know what to say, but it’s Christmas, and we’re all in misery.” —National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation

Day 3 ❄️ Accelerated heartbeat ❄️ Kissing in the snow ❄️ “Here, take my coat.” ❄️ “Let's hope the snow will make this Christmas right.” —Queen

Day 4 ❄️ Mulled wine ❄️ Playing board games ❄️ “I have no regrets.” ❄️ “Cheer up, dude. It's Christmas.” —How the Grinch Stole Christmas, 2000

Day 5 ❄️ Cookies ❄️ Holiday-themed contest ❄️ “That definitely looks… interesting?” ❄️ “That is exactly why you want a high-quality fire extinguisher right in the kitchen.” —The Santa Clause

Day 6 ❄️ Present ❄️ Making a new Christmas tradition ❄️ “Not another Christmas movie!” ❄️ “You say you hate Washington’s birthday or Thanksgiving, and nobody cares, but you say you hate Christmas, and people treat you like you’re a leper.” —Gremlins

Day 7 ❄️ Decorations ❄️ A little accident ❄️ “I was just trying to help!” ❄️ “I want my house to be seen from space.” —Deck The Halls

Day 8 ❄️ Touch starved ❄️ Telling secrets around the fire ❄️ “Sometimes the hardest part is forgiving yourself.” ❄️ “Santa, can't you hear me?” —Ariana Grande & Kelly Clarkson

Day 9 ❄️ Christmas fair/market ❄️ Late shopping (together) ❄️ “Hmm, this is actually not bad.” ❄️ “When you're still waiting for the snow to fall, doesn't really feel like Christmas at all.” —Coldplay

Day 10 ❄️ Surprise visit ❄️ Lighting scented candles ❄️ “I didn’t know you were here.” ❄️ “You’re skipping Christmas! Isn’t that against the law?” —Christmas with the Kranks

Day 11 ❄️ Fairy lights ❄️ Christmas party/ball ❄️ “I never want this night to end.” ❄️ “I won’t even wish for snow. And I’m just gonna keep on waiting, underneath the mistletoe.” —Mariah Carey

Day 12 ❄️ Feast ❄️ Indoor picnic by the tree/fireplace ❄️ “I baked your favourite cookie/pie/cake.” ❄️ “You are all I need tonight underneath the Christmas lights.” —Sia

Extra Challenge

Angst or fluff, romance or platonic - you're unsure in what direction your fic should go? Spin our

Wheel

and let it decide for you! You can spin it once and write all fics with what comes up, you can spin it daily and change course accordingly, you can spin it as often as you need or not at all - it's all up to you.

Please don’t hesitate to contact us with any questions! Also, feel free to share this post and help spread the joy and cheer!

Happy writing, and good luck 🍀

[thehopefulquotes]

I learned not to trust people; I learned not to believe what they say but to watch what they do. I learned to suspect that everyone is capable of living a lie. I came to believe that other people - even when you think you know them well - are ultimately unknowable.

Lynn Barber

[lynn-reads-and-writes]

The collage from chapter 5 of heavy in your arms.

[bitchin-beskar]

CAR!Paz Prompts

My goal for Friday, February 21st, is to post Chapter 3 of The Roommate Agreement with CAR!Paz and Bunny. However, I want to spend some time working on the various CAR!Paz requests I have in my inbox this weekend.

So...

[perfectfeelings]

I learned not to trust people; I learned not to believe what they say but to watch what they do. I learned to suspect that everyone is capable of living a lie. I came to believe that other people - even when you think you know them well - are ultimately unknowable.

Lynn Barber