#There's so much about this one I've always liked

[pluckyredhead]

Do you think Dick has a favourite brother?

I LOVE THIS QUESTION. I'M GOING TO ANSWER IT AT UNNECESSARY LENGTH.

But for the tl;dr crowd: yes, 1000000%. It's Damian. Dick would not admit this under pain of death, even to himself, but it's Damian.

THE LONG VERSION:

So Dick and Jason are not close and never have been. I always sort of blink in bewilderment when people say they are, or were when Jason was Robin, because they are demonstrably not, and that's what's interesting and tragic about them.

The fact of the matter is that Dick simply wasn't around very much when Jason was Robin. The Doyleist reason for this is that he wasn't really being treated like a Bat character: he was a Titans character, appearing in Titans books, with only the occasional cameo in Batbooks. He and Jason get along very well in Jason's first origin story (when Jason was a circus acrobat and his parents were eaten by crocodiles); in fact, Dick tells Bruce he wants to adopt Jason and Bruce is like "Not if I adopt him first!" But after that, Dick simply...wasn't there very often.

If you need a Watsonian reason for this, it's pretty easy to extrapolate one. Dick and Bruce were not getting along well during this period, so of course Dick would avoid Bruce and Gotham. And yeah, I think it's fair to assume Dick felt some kind of complicated feelings about Bruce having a new Robin, especially post-Crisis when Bruce made Jason Robin without Dick having any say or even a warning that it was going to happen. I tend to headcanon that he resented Jason a little, but was mature enough to know that it wasn't actually Jason's fault, and partially decided to stay away so that he didn't take that out on Jason. But Jason, a smart and sensitive kid, interpreted this as Dick avoiding him because he didn't like him.

And then Jason died.

Dick took that hard, and I think it was less "my brother who I had a close relationship with died" and more "this child followed in my footsteps and it killed him and I wasn't even there for him when I had the chance." To me, that absolutely forms the subtext of the relationship he develops with Tim.

Not at the start. At the start, once "A Lonely Place of Dying" is over, he's as checked out with Tim as he was with Jason. The Doyleist reason is the same - Dick literally just wasn't supposed to be in Batbooks too much - but the way it plays out is sometimes really funny in an awful way. Like in and just after Knightfall, when Bruce gets his back broken by Bane and is like "I've known Jean-Paul Valley for two weeks and he barely has any training, most of it done by my extremely new 13-year-old Robin...I think I'll make him Batman." And then Tim's dad and Tim's dad's doctor, Shondra Kinsolving, get kidnapped, and since Bruce has been aggressively romantically pursuing Shondra to the point of it being uncomfortable and inappropriate, he's like "Okay going to rescue Shondra! I mean, your dad! I'm taking Alfred with me! Tim, you're in charge of Gotham and Jean-Paul byeeeeee!" And then JPV immediately gets unhinged and violent and tries to kill Tim and Tim keeps calling Alfred like "Um can you please come back and help" and Alfred's like "No" and Tim's like "Okay well did you at least rescue my dad?" and Alfred's like "Also no." Anyway Dick finally comes to Gotham and Tim is like "THANK GOD, HELP, BRUCE MADE AZRAEL BATMAN AND HE'S TRYING TO KILL EVERYONE, I NEED AN ADULT" and Dick is like "He made someone who isn't me Batman??? 😡😡😡" and then just...fucks off back to New York and leaves Tim to deal with it. Very out of character, VERY funny.

BUT ANYWAY. Then we get to around 1996 and 1. Dick is no longer on the Titans which has a whole new lineup and 2. there's an editorial shift emphasizing the Batfamily. This is where the line really expands: Robin (started in 1993, but still pretty new), Nightwing, Birds of Prey, Azrael, eventually Gotham Knights in 1999 and Batgirl in 2000. Dick moves to Bludhaven and spends way more time in Gotham.

This is when Dick looks at Tim, says "Is anyone gonna big brother that?" and doesn't wait for an answer. All of a sudden he's behaving in a way that suddenly feels in character for him (although the idea of Dick as a big brother/mentor...really wasn't a thing for him prior to this era, so it's more of a new development that feels correct in retrospect). He's training Tim, he's giving him advice, he's teasing him about girls, he's coming up with inside jokes, he's giving him noogies. It's like he watched a bunch of 80s sitcoms to learn how to be a big brother and applied his research accordingly.

And Tim? Tim absolutely blossoms under the attention. Tim, who has been adultified by every other adult in his life since he was, like, eight, is getting treated like a kid. Tim, whose parents are never around, and don't pay attention when they are around, has an adult he looks up to who wants to spend time with him, for fun. Tim, who has hero worshipped Dick Grayson since he was...well, according to the math, he was one (1) year old so let's ignore the math, but he was small, is now basking in the full force of Dick Grayson's off-the-charts charisma. This is the best thing that has ever happened to Tim. This is the dream.

I want to be clear here: I think Dick's extreme reversal here is a delayed reaction to Jason's death, but I don't want to imply that he doesn't care about Tim as an individual. He loves Tim as much as Tim loves him. Tim's good opinion is incredibly important to him. This relationship goes both ways.

Annnnd then both of their lives fall apart extremely rapidly, and Damian shows up, and Bruce dies. And Dick tries to get out of it, but ultimately it ends how it has to: with him accepting the mantle of Batman, and responsibility for Damian.

The relationship Dick has with Damian is nothing like the relationship Dick has with Tim. Tim is his little bro. Damian is his baby. He's fourteen years older than Damian and as much of a parent figure as a sibling figure. And Damian is difficult and exhausting but Dick slowly, slowly coaxes a degree of trust and affection out of him that even Bruce will never achieve. And he can only do that by making Damian Robin, which means Tim has to stop being Robin.

This is where Dick and Tim fall apart, because what they need in this very vulnerable moment is so diametrically opposed, and neither of them are wrong. To Dick, asking Tim to step down - or up, from Dick's perspective - from being Robin is a compliment. Dick fought to free himself from Bruce, to become his own man with his own name, and so asking Tim to do the same thing is a show of faith in Tim, in his skills and experience.

Whereas Tim's hero-worship has always been for Robin, not Batman, and every glimpse he has had of a future beyond Robin has always been a dystopia. But more importantly, Tim has just lost his father, his stepmother, his mentor, his girlfriend, and his two best friends. He desperately needs to be able to lean on Dick, the grown-up he admires the most, and instead, Dick is kicking him out of the nest.

In other words: Dick is saying, with all the love and trust in his heart, "I need you to help me by being a fellow adult." And Tim is saying, with all the love and trust in his heart, "But I need you to be my adult." And they both get a no.

This is water under the bridge now, and they've healed even though they've never really talked it through because Bats don't do that (although what I wouldn't give for a Nightwing/Red Robin miniseries where they do everything but talk about it). But I do think Tim looks at the closeness and affection between Dick and Damian and feels some kind of way about it to this day, because it's so clear to everyone that Damian is Dick's favorite...but Tim remembers when he was Dick's favorite. And what Tim doesn't see is that Dick values him as a genuine partner in a way he will never quite achieve with Damian, because to him, Damian will always be his baby, even more so than he is Bruce's. (Dick is Bruce's baby, actually, not Damian. In this essay I will...)

(I could see a really interesting dynamic developing between Jason and Tim here, as the ones on the outside of that mutual appreciation society, but sadly the comics have never gone there. Alas.)

Finally, I think the relationship between Dick and Duke is very much "I just work here." Like, Dick is grown, he's out of the house, he's largely matured past the Bat-drama. He likes Duke but he doesn't feel the compulsion to brother him the way he did with Tim, and Duke doesn't need the mother henning Damian did.

IN CONCLUSION, and hooboy, sorry anon, most of this wasn't at all the question you asked:

Duke and Dick get along fine but aren't particularly close.

Damian is Dick's precious baby and always will be, even when Damian is an adult and annoyed by this treatment (but privately kind of loves it because he is a princess at heart).

Tim is Dick's buddy, his pal, his equal. If Dick were ever going to talk something through with a sibling, it would be Tim. (But that would require Dick admitting that everything isn't perfect or asking for help, so it'll never happen.)

Jason and Dick can't be in a room together for five minutes without fighting and Dick finds him wildly frustrating, but they will throw down for each other. When they aren't punching each other.

(And to answer the corollary: Damian's favorite brother is Dick. Tim's favorite brother is also Dick. Duke's favorite brother is Tim by default, since he doesn't know Dick very well and Jason and Damian are both too annoying, but really he's closest with Cass. Jason's favorite brother is Ace and he has communicated that often and loudly (but really it's probably also Dick).)

[fayes-fics]

Notte D'Amore

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: Sequel to Bella Notte. Exactly one year later, you find yourself at Aubrey Hall lake again...

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI. Slight exhibitionism, oral sex (m to f), cunnilingus, vaginal sex, sex underwater, orgasms. Benedict speaking foreign languages, yep, that needs a warning.

Word Count: 3.4k

Authors note: I've finally finished this sequel that I started almost two years ago. You don't need to have read Bella Notte to read this, but it helps with the grounding of the story and shows the growth of their relationship. Thanks as always to the amazing @colettebronte for beta reading. Enjoy! <3

An elegant grandfather clock softly chimes midnight as you pad through the hallway of Aubrey Hall. Struggling to sleep after a rousing midsummer day of Pall Mall, you decide to go for a walk to make yourself drowsy, leaving your husband and beautiful three-month-old baby daughter sleeping soundly. 

Before you know it, you are outside on the rear terrace enjoying the night air. There, you realise that it has been exactly one year since you went for a memorable night swim, just a few short days before your wedding.

Unable to resist, you drift towards that very lake, surveying its serene, moonlit beauty again. You recall with perfect clarity how Benedict stood naked with the water hugging his hips, beckoning you in. And, like so many times since, you joined him in a new adventure. 

Wandering along its edges, you eventually pause to lean against the reddish trunk of a sturdy, towering evergreen. Inhaling deeply, you savour the refreshing fragrance of the pine needles above. Staring out at the glassy surface, vividly remembering how it felt when your husband first kissed you—how your world spun. And you giggle to yourself as you reflect that; even now, all it takes is one brush of his lips, and you are just as swept away, perhaps even more so now, knowing exactly where such journeys can end, a stirring between your legs.

“It was precisely a year ago.” 

His sonorous voice from nearby startles you; you jump and grab your chest, your heart erratic from the shock. You didn’t even hear his approach, so lost in wistful reverie for untold minutes. 

“You half scared me to death!” you scold affectionately, shaking your head as he rounds closer and slides his arms around your waist. He wears a somewhat crumpled white shirt and britches, obviously haphazardly thrown on before leaving your rooms as he always sleeps naked, not something you ever complain about.

“I am so cruel, am I not, my darling?” he chuckles.

“The very worst,” you concur dryly, settling into his embrace, always your very favourite place to be. 

“I do not know how you tolerate me…” he jests mildly, his hands running soothing patterns along your spine.

“Wait! Bella!” you exclaim, pulling back a fraction, concerned about your little bundle of joy.

“She is fine,” he soothes. “Meredith is watching her sleep.”

Your nursery maid is so often a veritable lifesaver.

“Thank you,” you smile as he draws you flush against him once more, rocking you gently in his arms for a few minutes of companionable silence.

“So is this a little trip down memory lane, Mrs Bridgerton?” He asks sotto voce, his warm lips lingering on your temple.

“Perhaps...” you coquette, that kindling flame always smouldering between you.

“Mmm, it was so very memorable,” he hums, his lips tracing over your cheek until he reaches your mouth and seizes it with a brief but fiery kiss. “Do you have any idea how much willpower it took to stop when we did? I had to go back to my room and take myself in hand,” he pouts over your lips.

“Poor, poor lamb,” you tease playfully, your hand lowering instinctively to palm his stirring cock. “I would happily have helped.”

“You were so innocent then; what a change a year makes,” his breath more laboured as your hand drags insistently over his clothing.

“I know you liked me innocent, but I think you like me even more so now,” you contend, your intent unmistakable as you make fast work of the buttons on his trousers.

“You are not wrong…” he breathes as you shove the fabric down his muscular thighs, a searing need to have him inside you right away.

“Fuck me,” you demand crudely, your hand wrapping around his bare cock. “Against this tree, right now, right here.”

He groans, surging into your grip, his hands flexing on your back. You glance at the house around his shoulder, realising you are not remotely concealed from most of the East Wing. If anyone were to drift to their window, they would get an eyeful of your husband’s naked bottom at this very moment.

“I hope no one can see us….”

“Let them watch,” he snarls, tugging off his shirt and removing your hand so he can shuck his trousers, fully naked now.

It’s a sight that always has you flustered, so much lithe musculature, his skin glowing like sculpted marble in the moonlight. But you get little chance to admire or to run your hands along his contours, for he hauls you off your feet into his arms. Your robe and nightgown are pushed high around your hips as he presses you into the tree trunk; the fabric snags the rough bark. 

Then he guides his cock where you want, with no preamble, both groaning as he thrusts into you in one swift, decisive move. 

“Yesssss, that's it…” you hiss, your toes scraping the meat of his calf, your arms banding his neck tightly as he withdraws and then surges back in, your whole body rolling with the sheer force.

It’s only been three months since you had your baby, and he has been so tender with you since you started having sex again mere weeks ago. But tonight, you don’t want gentle; you want raw, rough passion, a reminder of just how much you cannot resist each other.  

‘“Harder husband,” you implore, finger digging into his toned flesh.

And he delivers, setting a fierce rhythm, snapping his hips in a way that ensures neither of you will last long. You moan a litany of encouragement, your eyes drifting to the lake, remembering how thrilling it felt to touch him for the first time. He grabs one of your legs and loops it over his forearm, opening you wide, your thighs burning slightly with the stretch, your mouth slackening as his pelvis glances at your clit.

“Oh yes, right there, do not dare stop,” you moan through gritted teeth, fighting off your thin silk robe.

“So very demanding tonight,” he huffs, bemused, but his pace never wavering as he assists you in tugging your nightgown off, now as naked as him. 

“Make me come,” you order, breathing heavily, bearing down into his upward thrusts, plunging yourself deeper onto his cock, greedily chasing your orgasm.

“Happily…” he retorts with a victorious smile.

But you mewl bereft as, instead of moving faster, he abruptly withdraws from you, leaving you pulsing and wanting. 

With you still in his arms, he takes a few paces and lays you down delicately by the water's edge. The verdant grass cushions your back as he quickly snakes down your torso, landing between your legs. You cant upwards and howl at his sudden acute suction on your throbbing clit. 

This is why you thank your lucky stars every damn day for your husband. You ask him to fuck you, and he changes it into something else, entirely other, taking you beyond. He tilts his head up, bringing your attention back to his handsome face framed by your thighs, his eyes glittering like the lake.

“I want to be out here all night, bringing you pleasure over and over. I don’t care if anyone sees. One of my family, even. I want everyone to know how good we are together. How lucky I am.” He turns and sucks hard on your inner thigh. “So give them a good show, my darling wife, scream for me.”

Your responding groan is loud and appreciative, your hands grabbing his head to direct his questing tongue.

This.

This is the Benedict you can never get enough of. When he’s all riled up, he is a force to behold: filthy poetry dripping from his sinful, talented mouth. Enchanted by his decadent words, your knees fall open wider, pushing yourself into his face.

“Yes, my love,” he encourages silkily as you lightly scratch your fingernails across his scalp; his reply muffled into your folds as he languidly swirls his tongue.

So you do as bidden. Begin to ride his face shamelessly, his nose nudging your clit as he slips lower to swirl his tongue into your pussy, murmuring words into your soaked, quivering flesh.

“Mia bellissima, mia dia…”

All you can do is shudder and hold tight, the ground dewy under your shoulder blades as you writhe upon him, toes curling into the muscle of his back as he feasts upon you, drinking your honeyed nectar. Notching you gently up that invisible ladder towards ecstasy as he returns to your throbbing clit.

“Mon vie, ma femme, tu es mon monde.”

Each word is like a precious jewel he drops onto your pearl, his tongue a glancing tease that has you begging for more. 

“Please husband…” you rasp, licking your lips, that telltale twinge deep in your belly.

His stubbled cheeks rasp your folds as he takes pity and sucks your clit hard between his lips and doesn't let up. Your pussy clenching in pulses, his strong hands grasp your thighs to hold you down as you buck up reflexively, all your muscles tensing as he takes you higher. Your engorged nub in his hot mouth, him driving you towards the edge with each roll of his muscular tongue. When he reaches up a hand to pinch one of your nipples, you are gone. Hurtling into the stars above, calling his name—uncaring if your lusty cries awake anyone sleeping in the house.

He growls encouragements as you begin to break under him, but his hold is still firm, not letting up, elongating your rapture. Making you thrash your head into the mossy verge, your pussy convulsing, leaking onto his chin as he chuckles richly, the echo seeming to travel through your pelvis. Knowing your body so well, he keeps suckling on your sodden flesh, running the edge of his teeth over your nub, holding you right in that state of mindless ecstasy for what feels like forever, a dizzying high that wracks your whole being, buzzing down to your fingertips and toes.

Just as it seems too much, and you want to beg him to stop, he relents, switching to delicate kisses on your inner thighs as you fight for breaths, your entire being tingling. 

“You were right,” you stutter, idly raking your fingers through his thick chestnut hair as you come back down to earth.

“About what?” he queries, resting his chin on your pubic hair.

“W-what you said to me in this very lake,” you sigh, head lolling to the side to observe the moonlit waters. “That I would receive pleasure from you at length.”

He smiles jubilantly and crawls up on all fours, landing a kiss on your lips. The tangy flavour of your release is strong on his face. And yet, even quaking and dazed, you are still greedy for more—for him, for this night not to end.

“I need you inside me again,” you appeal breathily. “In the water. Take me the way you wanted to that night, husband.” 

He looks out to the adjacent lake briefly, then back to you, that devastating lopsided smile claiming his features.

“You are full of wonderful ideas, my love. What a fitting tribute to that night.”

He swoops you into his arms bridal style, athletically springing to his feet and strides decisively into the lake. Your whoop of delight morphs into a shriek as the cold water engulfs your nethers. 

“Colder than I was expecting, too,” he acknowledges perkily but wades on regardless. 

You giggle to distract from the mild shiver at the sudden change in temperature. Impressed that his cock is still rigid at your hip as the ground under his feet falls away rapidly, the water quickly up at your ribs.

His hold changes as you both begin to float in the water, spinning so you are face to face. The juxtaposition of his warm skin and cool water is just as beguiling as it was that night. Your lips find each other in a languid kiss, wrapping your limbs around him as it deepens, that fire stoking within you that he always seems to ignite.

“Roleplay with me,” you beseech impromptu as your lips part. 

“What do you mean, my darling?” He queries, his face the picture of intrigue as his sizable hands slide over your buttocks, grabbing your cheeks.

“Pretend I am the innocent I was that night,” you whisper into his ear, pressing your pebbled nipples into his chest as you lightly bite his earlobe. “But do not be a gentleman this time.”

He groans, fingers kneading your bottom as his cock tip ruts into your belly button, telegraphing how much he loves that idea. You grab one of his hands and guide it between your legs.

“I ache there…. when you kiss me.” 

You employ the exact words you uttered to him one year ago, the moment, indeed the whole night, etched so clearly in your memory.

You watch his face cloud with a beguiling mix of tender nostalgia and pure seductive menace—his cheekbones and jaw in stark relief in the moonlight as his cadence slips lower.

“That is wonderful news, my love. That is how it should be; it means you desire me as much as I desire you.”

Your heart leaps as he recites, verbatim, his reply to you that night. A meaningful beat passes between you, silently conveying the poignancy. 

But then, just as you want, as you need, he flips the script. A sharp tang of desire floods through you as he curls his fingers into your folds.

“And fear not, I shall make that ache go away,” he rumbles. “I will take you right here. Make you mine. Ruin you for every other man. You will not want another for as long as you breathe.”

You pull him in for a kiss, burning from his possessive words, hitching your legs, encircling his waist—a blatant invitation. His other hand slides up your spine, dampening the strands at the nape of your neck, grasping there lightly as he continues in that resonant tone.

“I fear I cannot be gentle, for you have bewitched me.” It sounds like the very best kind of warning, his fingers teasing over your clit.

“I do not wish you to be,” you affirm truthfully, your lips ghosting his as you breathe other's air.

There is a rich groan from him, and his fingers are gone, replaced by the blunt head of his cock demanding entry. You gasp as he slips a fraction inside you, your eyes going wide as if this were unknown, even though all you feel is bliss from that now familiar stretch.

“Relax, my sweet, let me in,” he tutors, stilling, playing the part so perfectly.

As he inches in so slowly, you attempt a noise of astonishment, but it just sounds wanton, the hot steely plunge of his cock such a contrast to the cold water enveloping you. Part of you rues asking him to treat you as the innocent, for the slow pace is almost agnosing, like sandpaper rasping gradually over the needy edges of your desire. It makes you impatient for him to take you roughly, perhaps more than he ever has before, greedy for another spine-tingling orgasm. Even as you enjoy the cling of your pussy to his every contour.

“Well done, my love. You've taken all of me so well,” he praises as he reaches your hilt.

You can't help but peal a laugh; although his swagger is not unfounded, something about the moment feels both humorous and oddly sweet.

He breaks character too, chuckles warmly into your ear: “You are terrible at acting innocent, darling wife.”

“Maybe,” you concede as you swat his shoulder affectionately, clenching your pussy so he moans loudly. “But I am enjoying you corrupting me, you utter rake, so please continue,” you giggle.

There is a twinkle in his eye as he withdraws and then charges back into you, not at all how he treated you on your wedding night. 

“Be gentle; I am so innocent,” you entreat with theatrical irony as your eyes beg for him to be anything but. A ripe, pulpy sensation in your core needs relief.

“I warned you that I cannot…” he volleys back in a low timbre, quirking a brow and deploying that devastating, crooked smile, goosebumps breaking over your arms, and not just from the coolness of the lake.

This playfulness, slipping into and out of roles for each other's amusement, is why you feel so lucky to be married to him, indeed, why you love him so much. The deep, trusting bond you have built together since the last time you were in this very lake. And passion, so much passion. A mutual wish to always be joined as you are now, him buried inside you as you float together. 

“I love you, Benedict,” It falls from your lips unbidden. Honest. Truthful,

“I love you too, y/n.” His response is instant; his mien softens in understanding as if he intuits where your thoughts have slid. 

Profound emotion mutates to tart, metallic want, causing you to undulate upon him. The buoyancy of the water aids your movement, rising, then sinking back onto his cock, staring into his hazy eyes, blown wide by inky pupils. 

“Amore mio,” he murmurs, his gaze never straying from yours. 

Even if you do not understand every word when he speaks in another language, you can feel the meaning emanating from his very soul. 

The water ripples out in concentric waves, distorting the glassy reflection of the moon as you move together with increasing urgency, naked bodies entwined under the surface. He ploughs so deep into you, hitting that spot only he can reach—the one that makes you feel altered, renewed, powerless to do anything but chase that addictive, dizzying high again. Eyes rolling, caged in his arms, you hit a new joined rhythm that feels sublime, stealing kisses between breaths.

You moan his name as he plants his feet firmly on the bottom of the lake to give him more capacity—a dangerous smile as he grasps your bottom vice-like, slamming you onto him, redoubling his efforts. You throw your head back, your hair trailing in the water, moaning to the dark domed sky above, his mouth hot on your throat as you move together with increasing speed, the cool water a balm to your now fevered skin. Spurred on by the illicitly arousing thought that anyone in the house could see you out in the middle of the lake, fucking under the stars.

“Mon amour,” Benedict stutters, his voice tinged with the desperation of nudging ecstasy. 

“So close,” you pant, grabbing his jaw and kissing him deeply, lathing your tongue over his as one of his hands dives between your legs. You cry out into his mouth as he strums roughly against your swollen clit, flinging you towards bliss.

You feel that dam breaking, your whole being wound tight like a spring that abruptly snaps in a kaleidoscopic release. Your pussy clenching around his cock, an imprint you want to carry always. Fireworks behind your eyelids as a thrill races down your spine to all your nerve endings. Your fluttering pulls him over the edge, too, his body spasming then stilling as he releases into you, a bloom you feel inside as his teeth sink into your neck and he emits a wracking groan of sheer relief. 

For a few moments, you hover in the water, him still inside you, catching your breath. Chaste, pecking kisses and little words of reassurance as he slips from your body, both of you belatedly realise just how cold the water is now that your passions have been sated, giggling as you swim back towards the edge. Certainly not as warm as it was during last year’s heatwave.

After he has helped you out of the lake, you return hand-in-hand to your pile of discarded clothes under the trees, jostling into each other for warmth, staving off your shivers in the night air.

“I need you to promise me something…” you murmur, pulling on your nightgown, it turning translucent as it adheres to your damp skin.

“What is that, my darling wife?” he drawls, intrigued, pausing in the haphazard refastening of his trousers.

You wait until his gaze meets yours. “I know it is close to our wedding anniversary, but I need you to bring me here every year, Benedict. On this exact date… And take me right here, in this very lake…” 

His eyes flash, and he tugs you into his arms. 

“That can certainly be arranged, my love,” his words laden with dusky promise. “This shall forevermore be our notte d’amore.”

masterlist • wips • taglist (must follow this blog to be tagged)

Benedict taglist pt1: @makaylan @longingintheuniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaani @musicismyoxygen84 @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @fern-reads @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @hanji-emo-blog @sya-skies @urfavnoirette

[harrysfolklore]

So since the Oscars are happening next week I wanted to ask if you could please write something about charles leclerc and actress!reader where she's been nominated many many times before but never won (kind of like saoirse ronan) but this time she finally breaks the curse and win her first Oscar and Charles being just proud husband

u know you can always count on me for a charles x famous!reader fic and honestly i loved this one 🥺 i hope you like ittt

The Dolby Theatre buzzes with anticipation as you sit between Charles and your co-star. This scene is familiar - the sixth time you've been nominated, the same butterfly-inducing wait during the Best Actress category. Your first nomination came when you were just twenty-three, and now at thirty, you've earned the title of 'most nominated actress without a win.'

Charles has been there for four of those nominations, watching you smile gracefully through each loss. You remember how devastated he was last year - more than you, even - when you lost for what critics had called 'the performance of the decade.' He'd held you all night, whispering about how the Academy didn't deserve you anyway.

Tonight, though, feels different. Maybe it's the way Charles keeps pressing soft kisses to your temple, or how he hasn't stopped playing with your wedding ring - a nervous habit he picked up during particularly tense races.

"Mon coeur," he whispers as the Best Actor category wraps up, "no matter what happens, you're already the winner in my eyes. But tonight... tonight feels like magic, no?"

You're gripping Charles's hand so tightly you might be cutting off his circulation, but he doesn't seem to mind. Your heart is pounding as Emma Stone opens the envelope on stage, the same way it has during the previous ceremonies where you'd left empty-handed despite the nominations.

Charles leans closer, his lips brushing your ear. "I'm proud of you, no matter what happens," he whispers, his thumb stroking soothing circles on your hand.

"And the Academy Award for Best Actress in a Leading Role goes to..."

Charles's grip tightens imperceptibly. You feel him holding his breath alongside you.

"YN!"

For a moment, you're frozen. The applause sounds distant, like you're underwater. Then you feel Charles's hands on your face, see his beaming smile through your blur of tears.

"You did it, mon coeur!" he exclaims, his own eyes glistening as he pulls you into a kiss. "You finally did it!"

You're trembling as you stand, Charles helping you up. He's looking at you the way he does after winning a race - no, even more intensely than that. Like you've just won every championship in existence.

The walk to the stage feels surreal. You can hear the announcement echoing: "This is YN's sixth nomination and first win..." Through your tears, you see the standing ovation, catch glimpses of familiar faces who've been on this journey with you.

Your hands shake as you accept the Oscar, its weight both foreign and familiar after years of dreaming about this moment. You take a deep breath, looking out at the sea of faces until you find those green eyes that have been your anchor through every high and low.

"Wow," you begin, your voice trembling. "They say sixth time's the charm, right?" The audience laughs warmly. "I've had this speech written in my head since I was a little girl playing pretend with my mom's hairbrush, but now that I'm here, those words don't seem enough."

You pause, gathering yourself. "To the Academy - thank you for not giving up on me. To my incredible director who trusted me with this role that scared me as much as it thrilled me. To my amazing co-stars who pushed me to dig deeper, be braver."

Your eyes find Charles again, who's watching you with such pure adoration it makes your heart swell. "To my husband, who has sat through more award shows than F1 races this year so far, who runs lines with me even though he says my accent is better than his, who believes in me more than I believe in myself - ti amu. You've watched me practice acceptance speeches in our kitchen, held me through the disappointments, and somehow made me feel like a winner every single time. You told me once that in racing, it's not about how many times you don't make the podium, it's about never stopping until you do. Well, my love, we finally made it to the top step."

You can see Charles openly crying now, nodding proudly through his tears. "To my parents who let their little girl dream big, to my team who've been with me through every 'maybe next year,' to every young actor who's been told 'not yet' - keep going. Your time will come."

Looking down at the golden statue in your hands, you smile through your tears. "And finally, to every person who's ever felt like they're always the runner-up, who's heard 'better luck next time' so many times they've lost count - this is for you. Because sometimes the longest waitings lead to the sweetest victories. Thank you, thank you so much."

Later, at the Vanity Fair after-party, Charles hasn't let go of your Oscar once. He's been carrying it around, showing it off more proudly than any of his race trophies.

"My wife," he keeps saying to everyone who'll listen, his accent thick with emotion, "she's brilliant, no? I told everyone she would win. I knew it."

"Charles," you laugh, watching him polish the statue with his pocket square for the third time. "You're going to wear it out."

"Non, I'm protecting it. It's very precious." He looks at you with those soft green eyes. "Like you."

You lean into his side, feeling the familiar warmth of his arm around your waist. "You know what this means, right? Now we both have something gold to polish obsessively."

He chuckles, finally setting the Oscar down to pull you closer. "Oui, but unlike my trophies, this one was a long time coming." His expression softens. "You deserved this years ago, mon coeur."

"Well," you say, straightening his bowtie, "someone once told me that the sweetest victories are the ones you have to fight for."

"Sounds like a wise man," he grins.

"He's alright," you tease. "Bit of a show-off though. Keeps trying to steal my Oscar's spotlight."

Charles laughs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Never. Tonight is all yours, my love. Though..." he adds with a mischievous glint in his eye, "I might need to win another race soon. Can't have you being the only champion in the household."

You reach up to wipe a smudge of your lipstick from his cheek. "Race you to the next gold trophy?"

"Deal," he says softly, pulling you into a proper kiss. "But you've already won the most important race."

"Oh? Which one is that?"

His smile is tender as he touches his forehead to yours. "The race to my heart."

"That was terrible," you laugh, but you're already pulling him closer.

"Terrible but true," he murmurs against your lips. "Now, shall we go home? I need to practice my 'proud husband watching his wife's Oscar-winning performance' face for when we rewatch your movie for the hundredth time."

"You love that movie."

"I love you," he corrects.

And as you watch him carefully wrap your award in his suit jacket for the journey home, you think that maybe this victory is sweeter than you imagined - not because of the golden statue, but because of the golden heart beside you who never stopped believing it would happen.

[koenigami]

Watching caleb doing work out just had me thinking he probably let you lay on his back while doing push up he probably the one offering it too just so he can show off his strength

But instead I think laying under him would be better. You can watch him grunting and sweating in his glory maybe stealing a kiss while you at it. Plus it can be a challenge for him. Can he focus on his work out with his cute baby laying under him

so so sowwy for answering this only now nonnie><

ha! he'd be the one to come up with it. "i've been lacking some motivation lately, but surely having my pretty girl lie underneath me will be lots of help" and he says it with that flirty smirk, and there’s that cute dimple on his cheek, and his big shiny eyes to which you could never say no.

the irony is: he's the one to propose it bc he wants to fluster and tease you, but in the end he’s the one who ends up being a complete mess. how could he not? when you look at him as if he had hung up the moon and stars in the sky for you. when your hands subconsciously reach out towards him. when you wrap your arms around his neck, when your hands slide down his upper arms, and travel lower along his abs, making them tense up after each feather light touch.

how is he supposed to keep his composure when each kiss that you grace him with for each proper push up that he does, ends up tasting sweeter and sweeter. and sweeter.

"caleb?"

"mmh- yeah?" he grunts with another push, lifting and lowering his body effortlessly in a constant tempo. there’s a light sheen of sweat that’s coating his temples, his hair a little damp and messy. yet he still looks impeccably handsome.

slowly, as if scared that you might startle him, you let the pads of your fingers glide over his compression shirt until your palm is flat against his chest. right above his heart.

"it’s beating really fast." you worry your lower lip between your teeth as you tilt your head slightly to the side, looking at him with big doe eyes. "maybe you should take a break?"

goosebumps rise along your skin when his dog tag grazes your naked collarbone after he's lowered his body enough for the tip of his nose to touch yours. with a sardonic smile, caleb closes his eyes as he kisses the corner of your mouth. his lips are warm against your skin. everything about him is. he's always felt like a warm blanket enveloping you, offering you comfort, as much as a refuge from the overwhelming outside world.

you nearly whine in protest when, instead of giving you a proper kiss, he pulls away enough to look at your face.

"that's not because of the workout, pips."

[mittenkisses]

hi! could i request a jade x reader where the reader is sort of insecure about their weight? like, theyve been gaining weight recently and arent sure how to deal with it. thank u !!

you gain weight

ft : jade

a/n : funny enough anon i've imagined this scenario a few times so i've got u

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ 🐚

though he doesn't judge looks, jade knows that you're beautiful. he's appalled that you'd even suggest you're anything less. it starts when he makes you a meal, he's always eager to feed you and show off his cooking, and you don't eat as much as you usually do. at first he thinks you're feeling sick, or the taste is off. he's quick to ask what's wrong. he's not expecting you to say that it's about your weight.

he doesn't see the issue with it. so you've gained a little weight, that doesn't change anything. if anything it means you're being fed properly! as long as you're still healthy, he doesn't think it's a problem at all; but it's upsetting you, and he'll be damned if he doesn't make you feel better. no one is allowed to talk down about his partner, not even the partner in question. ever the smooth-talker, he knows exactly what to say—you haven't changed at all, so why should it matter? gaining some weight doesn't make you any less beautiful. if he has to, he'll hold your waist and kiss you, reassuring you and telling you just how lovely you are.

of course, none of this will stop him from making you filling and nutritious meals all the time. if anything, it only encourages him. if it really, really bothers you that much, he could start making them a bit healthier, although he reminds you every time that it's really not necessary. he truly doesn't mind, though, as long as you're happy and healthy.

[aroceu]

yes!!

i've been putting a lot of free time lately just finding more stuff (and also because it's fun for me) so here's another list of some tools.

here are some guides! they do go through a lot so i recommend reading at your own pace, and you can even start projects on the side based on what you know rather than trying to read and absorb them all at once. i usually like using guides as references more than a how-to manual before starting anything, but for the very basics it's usually a good place to start.

Interneting Is Hard (but it doesn't have to be), a guide on the raw basics of what a website is and how to make one, written casually and friendly for beginners

Marksheet, a thorough and introductory website on how to make a website, from starting with the basic stuff to introducing more complex techniques

The Quick ‘n’ Dirty Guide to Making a Website, a guide for how and why you should make a website, geared primarily towards artists/creatives

sadgrl online's webmastery resources, particularly: the what you see is what you get layout maker (no coding required), and html & css snippets, which i have heard great things about

petrapixel's layout generator, which also allows you to customize and generate your own layout with no coding required

web design in 4 minutes by jeremy thomas, an introductory tutorial on thinking about webdesign/website structure

tutorials at htmldog, which was my primary place in learning how to make a website in like... 2008. and yet they're still so relevant today

make your own website, a beginner's guide to making one's own website. it was written for the writer's 12 year old child if that may be less intimidating than the rest of these guides

other sitely resources!

easily download your ao3 fics for archival purposes and if you want to reupload them

owls' guide to webshrines, if you're ever interested in or have considered making in the shrine in the form of a website for something you really like and are a fan of! from a fannish perspective this has always been common among fan-inclined indie website makers - people just want to make websites dedicated to things they love, because hey, that's what the rest of us are doing in fandom anyway. this guide goes into detail how, why, and some suggestions for how to make a fan shrine!

how to make your first randomizer at lions-garb.net. you can make a randomizer through just inputting the stuff, sure, but this is a small guide on how to do it on the backend so you can also make your own randomizers while also making them look pretty on the internet.

resources list for the personal web, a very extensive list of a variety of webweaving resources, from tutorials to code snippets to tips to ideas! it may seem very daunting so i recommend just skimming it and seeing what catches your eye first, there's no chronological way to learn things once you have the very basics down

kalechips's layout thrift store, which has a bunch of free codes already created as basic web templates that anyone can feel free to take and adjust and edit and learn from to their liking! there's a lot of different already preset layouts so you don't have to worry about that part, and learn and modify them (if you want) instead

petrapixel's coding self-study checklist, a thorough list of some webdev coding necessities that hobbyists may have i missed (i know have!)

and if you get to the point where you want your website to feel like part of a community as much as you are, you can join a web ring!

the fic ring for self-hosted fanfic sites

the fandom webring, a webring for any webmasters in fandom

here's a consistently updated list of current indie web-rings!

In the wake of the TikTok ban and revival as a mouthpiece for fascist propaganda, as well as the downfall of Twitter and Facebook/Facebook-owned platforms to the same evils, I think now is a better time than ever to say LEARN HTML!!! FREE YOURSELVES FROM THE SHACKLES OF MAJOR SOCIAL MEDIA PLATFORMS AND EMBRACE THE INDIE WEB!!!

You can host a website on Neocities for free as long as it's under 1GB (which is a LOT more than it sounds like let me tell you) but if that's not enough you can get 50GB of space (and a variety of other perks) for only $5 a month.

And if you can't/don't want to pay for the extra space, sites like File Garden and Catbox let you host files for free that you can easily link into NeoCities pages (I do this to host videos on mine!) (It also lets you share files NeoCities wouldn't let you upload for free anyways, this is how I upload the .zip files for my 3DS themes on my site.)

Don't know how to write HTML/CSS? No problem. W3schools is an invaluable resource with free lessons on HTML, CSS, JavaScript, PHP, and a whole slew of other programming languages, both for web development and otherwise.

Want a more traditional social media experience? SpaceHey is a platform that mimics the experience of 2000s MySpace

Struggling to find independent web pages that cater to your interests via major search engines? I've got you covered. Marginalia and Wiby are search engines that specifically prioritize non-commercial content. Marginalia also has filters that let you search for more specific categories of website, like wikis, blogs, academia, forums, and vintage sites.

Maybe you wanna log off the modern internet landscape altogether and step back into the pre-social media web altogether, well, Protoweb lets you do just that. It's a proxy service for older browsers (or really just any browser that supports HTTP, but that's mostly old browsers now anyways) that lets you visit restored snapshots of vintage websites.

Protoweb has a lot of Geocities content archived, but if you're interested in that you can find even more old Geocities sites over on the Geocities Gallery

And really this is just general tip-of-the-iceberg stuff. If you dig a little deeper you can find loads more interesting stuff out there. The internet doesn't have to be a miserable place full of nothing but doomposting and targeted ads. The first step to making it less miserable is for YOU, yes YOU, to quit spending all your time on it looking at the handful of miserable websites big tech wants you to spend all your time on.

[thealexchen]

Why Dontnod's games feel original and inspired (and why Deck Nine's games don't)

So, I've talked at length about how Double Exposure feels much more like a corporate product than a playable piece of art entertainment [My initial thoughts on the DE trailer] [My thoughts on the early access paywall] [My thoughts on the weird marketing].

But now with the release of Lost Records, I feel like I have no choice but to confront the question: were any of Deck Nine's games truly original or inspired in any way? And honestly, I have to say no.

Objectively, I could say it's because Deck Nine literally has not produced any original IP's since their rebrand from Idol Minds in 2017. Their only narrative adventure games are all part of the LiS franchise. But even their most original game, True Colors, pretty obviously follows the first game's narrative formula (young woman with a superpower investigates a sudden disappearance/death in a small town with a dark secret, has two opposite sex love interests, learns about a twist villain, is nearly murdered, and goes through a psychological nightmare in the last episode) to a tee. But oh look, there's also a LARP!

But I believe there's more to it than that, because when I look at Dontnod's games, they are always inspired by other works. Life is Strange 1 plays very clear homage to Twin Peaks with the Pacific Northwest setting and Rachel Amber resembling Laura Palmer. Max Caulfield is named after the protagonist of The Catcher in the Rye, another novel about the fleeting innocence of childhood and superficiality of society. Life is Strange borrows tropes from Donnie Darko, Groundhog Day, The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, Stand By Me, and even Blue is The Warmest Color for its themes and plot points. Just take a look at its "Shout-out" page on TV Tropes. And the result is... something completely original, with riveting plot twists, memorable characters, and an ending that will make you cry.

This shouldn't make sense, right? You'd think this big soup of references would turn into an indistinguishable mess of cliches, but Life is Strange managed to be a synthesis of everything the writers loved and were inspired by, to become something completely new. Why? Because nobody had tried to take Twin Peaks, Donnie Darko, and The Catcher in the Rye and turn it into a video game before! And make it gay!

The point being, Dontnod consistently makes original material because they take creative risks. This is definitely not done lightly, since they still need to be a company that generates profit, but they still prioritize making art over selling out. Their stories feel inspired because they are inspired; when writers love what they're writing about, the result is a passion project that has loving, clever nods to all the works that are woven into it.

So perhaps a way to reword that first question is to then ask, "Have Deck Nine's games ever been inspired by anything?" And unfortunately, the answer is still no. Instead, they just copy what they hope will sell well. And a bland imitation for the sake of generating profit is never going to produce anything that feels original.

This takes me back to Lost Records, which is also clearly inspired by the same works: Twin Peaks, It: Chapter One, The Craft, The Blair Witch Project, The Goonies, Stand By Me. But again, no other game studio besides Dontnod has ever looked at these works and thought, "But what if it starred teenage lesbians instead?" Or, more specifically: "How do we capture the spirit of what made these media great and incorporate that into a new story for a new audience?" And those characters have so much thought and care poured into them too: while I've been disappointed that Double Exposure Max looks airbrushed to hell and back, I love that the Bloom & Rage girls have asymmetrical faces, acne, freckles, body hair, skin discoloration, and diverse body types. Double Exposure is marketed as nostalgia bait for fans, where Max is reduced to a prettied-up, polished-up, representation of nostalgia, not even her own character anymore, in a game that otherwise has no connection to the original. Her quips are reduced to "Hey! Remember our good ol', dad-joke cracking, dorky Max Caulfield??" and her grief is shoved aside for "Hey, look at that appealing new love interest! Because we knoooow y'all love your sapphic romance, right?"

By contrast, Lost Records has only been out for 10 days, but I already feel like the girls are some of the most memorable characters I've come across in gaming for the niche they fill. Swann seems like your typical Max-like dork, except she's also a movie buff and giddy about bugs, horror, and the paranormal; and has clearly been affected by her mother's fatphobic beliefs. Autumn is a level-headed leader who always stuck to her desire to help others, and her Blackness naturally informs her desire to feel valued and not cause trouble in a small, very white, conservative town. Nora intrigues me so much for going from a fun-loving rebel punk teen to a more gender-conforming, capitalist-leaning, influencer businesswoman. And Kat feels like an evolution of Chloe's cynicism, where her scrappy charm belies an almost unsettling obsession with the occult and a deep, tragic chasm of rage at having to confront her mortality far too young. They make sense. They feel carefully written, genuine, and like real people.

But most of all, Dontnod's games have never felt like products. In fact, most of their characters have historically gone against the grain of what traditionally "marketable" characters are. The first LiS took all these aforementioned stories about straight white men and chose to remix and retell it through the eyes of a young, queer, time-traveling girl instead. Tell Me Why is the first AAA game with a trans protagonist, and Tyler is voiced by a trans actor in all the language dubs. Lost Records decided that it would tell its story through four queer teenage girls, with women writers onboard, and fucking own it. As long as Dontnod keeps making games that stick to their creative integrity, I'll keep respecting their vision in whatever they decide to create next. Also, maybe I should finally watch Twin Peaks.

Thank you for reading!

[taeyongdoyoung]

beg for you

summary: missing your ex, you stumble upon an interesting song that brings back memories you thought you could bottle up... pairing: vernon x reader genre: angst, smut, exes to online friends to lovers warnings: mentions of past break-up, reader felt neglected and lonely, insecurities, lowkey catfishing+lie by omission, swearing, song-writing themes, some serious talks, hand-holding, kissing, spitting, eating out, fingering, dom!vernon, orgasm denial, public unprotected sex (in a café bathroom), mainly lots of emotions, idk author's note: the fic was inspired by this iconic song, in particular vernon's verse and it has some occasional references to the lyrics in bold word count: 2.6k

It's been three months since you ended things with Vernon, blocked his number and all his socials and tried your best to forget about him. The reason for your break-up was mainly because you felt like he never had time for you, his music always came first and while that was appealing at the start of your relationship, it began to infuriate you and make you feel invisible towards its end. He would stand you up and forget about your dates more than once. He would make you feel like you were always his second choice. Not being around him hurts like hell, because you'd become so used to his presence that the lack of it brings so much emptiness. And also because a part of you still loves him.

One evening, you can't fall asleep so you're scrolling through some music apps. Suddenly you discover a new song. The artist hides their face behind a mask but their voice sounds somewhat familiar. Strangely enough, the lyrics just speak to you:

I don't think I'll ever feel this type of way again (This way again; Yеah, uh, yeah) I beg for you, please (Don't let go), don't let go of me, don't let go of me All the endless conversations about us been going on in our head In the night, we dream a future together and I feel bad in your bed I beg for you, please stay, I can't go a day without No, I can't go a day without you, hoo

So weird. It's like the artist knows exactly what's been on your mind for the past three months. You shut your phone off with a sigh and attempt to get some sleep. The next day, that same melody and those words haunt you. And the following day…It goes on for a while and you've become so obsessed with it that you try to do some research on the artist. Unfortunately, it's not of much help. Nobody knows the identity of the artist, how they look or their real name. It's frustrating but it is what it is. Maybe you should drop it. But then again…you really can't stop thinking about these fucking lyrics and how well they described how you've been feeling.

You decide to do something stupid and slide into the DMs of the anonymous artist. They'll probably never see this message as they have thousands of followers, but still, you need to get this off your chest somehow.

You: Hi, you probably get this a lot but your lyrics are really relatable, like they truly spoke to me and totally represent the way I've been feeling for the past three months. You're incredibly talented and I'd be happy to hear more of your music in the future.

It's a short message, nothing too crazy. You feel a sense of relief once you've sent it. You realize it doesn't matter if the artist ever sees it. You're just happy you were able to express your feelings.

To your immense shock, about 30 minutes later, you receive a notification. This is actually so insane you can't believe your eyes. The anonymous artist…texted you back?!

RevN98: Hi, this really means a lot to me. Actually, I don't get a lot of feedback, as I'm just starting out. I'll try my best to write more music. In what ways did you relate to the lyrics?

Is he seriously…initiating a discussion? It is wild enough he texted you back but the fact he wants to continue texting baffles you. But you are not one to look at a gift horse in the mouth. So, you respond rightaway.

You: I got out of a long-term relationship a couple of months ago and even though I should probably move on already, some part of me wishes my ex begged for me to stay. I know it's probably a selfish thought, considering I'm the one who broke up with the guy, but…I miss him sometimes and I keep thinking of a universe in which he'd fought for me.

After sending that message, you look at it in horror as you realize how personal it was. Why is it so easy to open up to a complete stranger? And not to people who actually know you…

You: Sorry, that was probably a whole bunch of TMI. Anyways, I really thought your lyrics were connected to how I was feeling if that makes sense.

You double text just in case. The response from the mysterious artist comes soon after.

RevN98: It makes sense, yeah. When I was writing them, I was also thinking about my past relationship. Honestly, I kind of wish I'd begged my ex to stay. I thought that by not doing so, I was respecting her wishes and giving her space. But now that it's been a while, I can't help but think I should have expressed myself better. I really miss her, though, so I guess that got reflected in the lyrics somehow.

You take a moment to gather your thoughts and figure out what to text.

You: Aw, man. Whoever your ex is, she's lucky to have such lyrics written about her. Even if it's over, maybe there's a way she finds your music and…I don't know, reconsiders things?

RevN98: Hah, that'd be a dream come true. I don't think she likes the kind of music I make.

You: Why not? Your music is great!

RevN98: Well, the truth is I was spending more time on my music than time with her. So, I guess that's one of the reasons for our break-up.

My God. This feels…too similar to your situation it gives you goosebumps. Despite that, it's like your fingers are possessed as they keep itching to text the anonymous artist back.

You: Time changes the way people feel. Maybe if you're honest with her and how you're feeling, there's a chance for a reconciliation. Or at least some closer. You should call her!

RevN98: I'd love that but she's blocked my number.

You: Use a friend's phone, duh!

RevN98: That'd be suspicious, considering I haven't told any of my friends about our break-up.

You: Dang…you're really not over this girl, huh?

RevN98: Not a chance.

You: So…what are you going to do?

RevN98: I don't know, for the time being texting you helps to ease the pain.

You: Likewise. But just to give you a heads-up, I'm not interested in any rebound relationship.

RevN98: Great. I'm not interested in that, either.

You: So…online buddies, then?

RevN98: Sounds good to me.

It is so strange how quickly the mysterious artist becomes part of your everyday life. You text each other quite often about anything. From what you've had for breakfast to what other music you've been listening to. From where you're planning to go with your friends to…how much you miss your exes. It is truly extraordinarily easy to talk to them. You still don't know much. How they look, what their real name is, where they live…But somehow it's enough knowing they're out there making awesome and relatable music.

Until one day it isn't.

You: We should meet up!

RevN98: I don't think that is a good idea…My schedule's crazy lately.

You: What do you mean? It's not like you have live performances.

You point out the obvious because from what you've gathered, maintaining this anonymity is key to RevN98.

RevN98: I just don't feel comfortable meeting in person…

You: Are you worried I'd expose your identity? You know I'm not that kind of person, right?

RevN98: I'm not worried about that. It's hard to explain. It would make sense if we met up, which is exactly why we can't meet up.

You: I'm super confused right now. But you know how important honesty is to me. So, it's now or never, I guess. If you don't want to meet up in the near future, I don't think I want to continue being friends…

You wait a couple of minutes, to give them a chance to make a decision. Finally, the response comes.

RevN98: Okay, let's meet up.

They text you a time and place. And then you ask the crucial question.

You: How will I know it's you?

RevN98: Trust me, you'll know.

This is…so cryptic. You guess you'll just have to rely on the fact that there are a bunch of photos of you on your profile, so the musician would be able to recognize you first.

When you arrive at the small café, you look around nervously, waiting. Negative thoughts keep haunting your mind. What if they change their mind in the last minute and stand you up? What if they are disappointed upon meeting you and never want to text you again? What if you were too harsh by giving an ultimatum? What if-

So many scenarios and you failed to consider the one that truly matters.

What if…you run into your ex at said café? What are the fucking odds?!

"What are you doing here?" you ask Vernon, sounding a bit too rude. Better to be rude than to burst into tears or something more embarrassing.

"Waiting for you," Vernon replies simply.

"What are you talking about?" you blink in confusion. Until it clicks…No. Freaking. Way.

Vernon sighs and takes his phone out, showing you the texts between you and RevN98. And the only explanation is…fucking hell. He is RevN98.

"Please, tell me you're joking right now."

"I wish I was," Vernon looks down, feeling guilty.

"How could you do this to me?" you inquire, eyes welling up already. You feel so weak upon seeing him.

"What was I supposed to do? You had me blocked on everything."

"What, and writing me a song under a false name sounded like the greatest idea?" you snap at him.

"I just needed to talk to you again. Somehow."

"Why? What is there to say?"

"I miss you," Vernon murmurs.

"You lied to me," you insist stubbornly.

"Please come back to me," he keeps trying.

"It's too late…" you try to reject him gently.

"I'm begging you," Vernon really wants a second chance.

You shake your head, but your hands are already reaching for his. Desperate to hold them one more time, you lean closer.

"I'm not taking you back," you keep fighting it.

"Okay," he nods.

"We're just…gonna talk, yeah? Seems a waste of my great outfit to go back home."

"Okay," Vernon repeatss.

As the two of you sit down to have a chat, suddenly all of the unsaid words and undelivered messages bubble up to the surface.

"I should have fought for you. I mean it. Music is important to me but not as much as you. You are my muse, how could I go another day without you?"

"It seems you've been doing a great job writing music without me," you say bitterly.

"Oh, yeah?" Vernon raises his eyebrows cockily. "Well, I bet I can write even better if you're back in my life."

"I was too harsh," you admit. "I let my overthinking and insecurities get the worst of me. When I broke up with you, it seems I had forgotten how much I love music, too. I was so caught up in my own dark thoughts that I didn't matter to you that things escalated."

"You had a point," Vernon chuckles sadly. "I wasn't giving you the attention you needed. The attention you deserve. I was being selfish."

"I was selfish, too," you confess. "I shouldn't have made you feel like you needed to make a choice between me and music."

"I would pick you. For the record."

"Record is exactly what you'll be making," you tease him. "I'm serious. I need to hear more of what you've been working on."

"I'd love to show you. But there's something else I'd like to do first," Vernon smirks mischievously.

He grabs your hand and takes you to the café's bathroom. He pushes you inside a free booth and locks the door behind him. He kisses you under the bathroom lights eagerly, not wanting to let go ever again.

"Hey!" you chide him playfully. "I said I wasn't taking you back."

"Too bad. 'Cause I'm taking you," Vernon says assertively.

"You…you've changed," you blink in surprise.

"I'll take that as a compliment," Vernon smiles and his palms dig into your lower back deliciously, as he kisses you again. "God, I missed this taste."

"You're insane," you laugh but you can't find it in you to deny it any longer. You want him so bad.

"Don't let go of me," he repeats the song's lyrics in your ear.

"I won't. As long as you promise the same," you ask.

Vernon doesn't say a word as he kneels in front of you. He picks up one of your legs and swings it over his shoulder as pulls your panties to the side. Suddenly, you're so grateful for your genius decision to wear a dress. He spits on your pussy and attacks your folds with his skilled tongue. You're already losing your mind over how good it feels, when suddenly, he pulls back.

You gasp in disappointment as your pleasure was so abruptly interrupted.

"Beg me," Vernon commands you easily. "Beg me to make you come."

"You're fucking insane," you refuse. You've always had a little bit of a brat in you.

Vernon, however, doesn't seem perturbed by your refusal to cooperate and sticks one finger inside you, teasing you slow enough to frustrate you but not fast enough to get you there. It hurts so sweetly you both hate and love it.

"Beg me," he repeats.

It would be so easy to do that. Just to get that sweet release…But the stubborn part of you is still stronger than the part of you that wants to come.

''Try harder," you grin cruelly.

Vernon is not one to back down from a challenge and unleashes his final weapon. He takes off his jeans and slides his hard cock inside you. Fuck. You'd forgotten how girthy he is.

"I missed you so much," he whispers in your ear. And his genuine words affect you more than his actions. And oh, how terribly you've missed him, too.

You hold on to the back of his neck, needing him for support. He keeps tormenting you, not moving a lot, just making you feel so full but so dissatisfied at the same time. You truly can't take it anymore.

"P-please, let me c-come," you beg for him hopelessly.

"There's my good girl," Vernon smiles proudly and adjusts his movements, adding pressure with his fingers so that you come in mere seconds.

"T-thank you, thank you," you chant, not knowing what demon possessed you to act this way.

"So polite," he laughs adorably and holds you close as he reaches his own high.

You don't want to let go of him ever again. But you're gonna have to, because you hear angry people who want to use the bathroom. Uh-oh.

You quickly try to clean each other up and rush outside, cheeks red with embarrassment.

You get a few weird looks from random people, but honestly, it doesn't matter. This felt too good.

"Sooo…" Vernon says once you've arrived at his chill but cozy apartment. "Does this mean you'll take me back?"

"Hmm, I don't know. Beg me nicely?" you suggest teasingly.

"Oh, you know I will," Vernon promises.

Bonus:

"Veeern, it's been hours, didn't you finish the song already?" you complain, desperate for his attention.

"Just five-"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence," you warn him, though you don't really mean it. You're just playing around. You know he cares about you deeply. Perhaps more deeply that he lets on.

"Won't you wait another hour or two?" Vernon teases you back.

"You know what? I'd wait as long as it takes," you smile and put your lips on his lips.

The End

[odileeclipse]

Helloo could you do a shadow milk cookie x reader and pure vanilla x reader (separate) with an emotionless reader like literally you cannot get any emotions from them at all even if you try to surprise them whatsoever, but could you do a moment where character does something so embarrassing and reader’s has a slight smile and a flicker of light in their always dull eyes and ofc character noticed and character asked them about it but reader would just revert back to a neutral expression and calmly just deny it happened

And do you think they’ll feel smth bcs they are the only one who saw reader show a bit of emotion to them lol

A/N They both fall, I think it's one of the most embarrassing experiences I've had.

SHADOW MILK 

Shadow Milk Cookie had tried, oh how he had tried. He had whispered deceptions spun from silver, conjured illusions that bent the very fabric of reality, set the stage for the most brilliant performances yet you never so much as blinked. No gasp, no frown, no smile. Like a porcelain doll, your gaze remained distant, untouched by his tricks, his taunts, his games. And it was infuriating. But tonight, in a cruel twist of fate, it was not some grand illusion nor an elaborate jest that cracked your mask, it was his own misstep. One moment, he stood poised, a master of the stage, twirling his staff in an elegant arc; the next, the hem of his own coat betrayed him. A miscalculated step, a sudden loss of balance his world tilted, the ground rushed up to meet him, and THUD. Silence. Then, like the faintest flicker of candlelight in an abyss, it appeared. A smile. Barely there, delicate as the final breath of a dying dream. A glimmer in your eternally dull eyes, brief but unmistakable. A moment so fleeting it could have been an illusion had he not seen it with his own two eyes.

Shadow Milk’s breath caught in his throat. His pride be damned, his aching dignity forgotten…he had seen you smile. His head snapped up, his cerulean and cyan eyes narrowing in sheer exhilaration. “Ohhh?” A slow, delighted grin curled upon his lips as he pulled himself up, dusting off his sleeves. His usual smugness sharpened into something ravenous. “Now what was that?” You tilted your head, expression utterly blank, betraying nothing. “I don’t know what you mean.” He stepped closer, a hunter toying with prey, his mismatched eyes devouring every detail of your face, searching for the crack he knew existed. “Don’t play coy with me.” His voice dripped with intrigue. “You smiled.” “I didn’t.” “Oh, but you did.” His hands twitched at his sides, itching to unravel this new puzzle, this delicious little secret. “I wonder… was it my suffering that amused you? Or simply the absurdity of it all?” You merely stared at him, empty as ever. He exhaled a low chuckle, dragging his tongue over his teeth. “Fine. Keep your secrets.” His voice dipped into something almost intimate, almost tender. “But now that I know you can smile… I’ll make sure I see it again.” His game had changed. No longer was he simply a performer trying to crack an unfeeling audience no, now he was a man obsessed, determined to drag that flicker of light from you again and again until it was no longer fleeting, until it belonged to him. Because for one brief, precious second, you had given him something no one else had. And he would have it again.

PURE VANILLA

Pure Vanilla Cookie had long accepted that you were unlike others. You did not react to warm laughter, nor startle at surprises. Your face remained ever unreadable, a placid sea unbroken by the winds of emotion. And he never minded. He never sought to change you, never wished to force light into your eyes when you did not offer it yourself. Instead, he simply remained beside you, unwavering, gentle, content in the quiet companionship you shared. But even the kindest souls are not immune to clumsiness. It happened so fast. One moment, he was walking alongside you, staff in hand, his robes flowing with their usual grace. The next, his foot caught the hem of his own garment, and…Oh no. His world tilted. His arms flailed. His heart lurched as he let out a startled, undignified yelp. THUMP. A soft groan left him as he lay sprawled upon the ground, his staff having rolled just out of reach. His glasses slid dangerously down his nose, barely clinging to his face. And then…A quiet breath. A whisper of something almost imperceptible. Pure Vanilla looked up and his heart stopped. For the first time, in all the days he had known you, there was the faintest curve of your lips. A delicate, ghostly thing, barely there, but there nonetheless. And in your ever-dull eyes… the tiniest flicker of light.

It lasted no longer than a heartbeat. But he saw it. His lips parted, his heart stumbling over itself in something warm, something profound. “Wait…” He pushed himself up, adjusting his glasses, eyes impossibly soft. “Did you just” You blinked. Your face was smooth once more, unreadable, empty. “I don’t know what you mean.” Pure Vanilla’s breath hitched, a quiet, knowing smile creeping onto his face. He knew. He knew. And though you would deny it, though you would bury it beneath a mask of neutrality, he did not need you to confirm it. Because for a single, fleeting second, he was the one who made you smile. And for him, that was more precious than anything in the world. A soft laugh escaped him, not teasing but full of warmth. “You don’t have to admit it,” he said gently. “But… I feel honored.” He didn’t push further. He didn’t need to.

[bnyf]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ#1 crush ♡

╭﹕୨୧﹒yandere male elf x female human reader ♡

┊ warnings : yandere content and themes, unhealthy behaviors, relationship and relationship dynamic, sexual content, noncon, kidnapping, size difference, strange dynamic.

╰﹕୨୧﹒authoress note : after receiving some unwanted but much needed criticism i've tried my hand at writing a little better and fixing errors. i apologize in advance if there's any errors or gaps in my writing, i also apologize for the messed up story that this is. ik some people don't like the way i write the reader but like??? idgaf sorry anyways other than that, i hope you guys enjoy, please read the warnings and proceed with caution <3 i would also like to say that this post is kinda inspired by a very popular yandere artist on here with a male elf oc

what a treacherous fate had befallen on a vitreous soul such as yourself.

it truly is unfortunate, you're so unlucky. how could your luck have run so low? to think, this everyday mundane routine would now be your nightmarish reality was stomach wrenching. you never did anything to deserve this, this was simply some sort of faulty by the gods, right? there's no way this is your horrible ending. no way.

you sobbed and yet... he hummed and chastised you by smacking your puffy clitorous.

it's always like this, it's been like this for...? a while now apparently. you've completely lost track of time. maybe a month or so if you're playing the guessing game.

well, if it wasn't obvious already, you've been taken hostage by an insane elven prince. probably the most insanely angelic, good-looking, prettiest and sick minded male you've ever met.

he really needs professional help. something that he can more than afford considering his house is almost made of gold, his herculean physique adored and draped only with the most expensive clothes, jewels, silks, soaps and scented creams and perfumes. his perfume, so extravagant, worth more than your vital organs all put together. that was the part you admired about elven people, they are so intelligent, so ahead of humans.

but to him? therapy is cheap and free! you're the first ever human he's laid eyes on and that's all he really needs. and really, you're the one to blame for his actions. it's all you. so you should take responsibility, right?

he's sought out humans before, trying to break the barrier between the two worlds and connect with them. he was damn near obsessed with coming into contact with the human realm and ruling over them like a god despite the fact that any sort of magic that threatens to break the barrier and connect the realms or offer passage through the two realms is absolutely forbidden. this is such a serious offense that if caught violating, can lead to public execution.

but your little caregiver did not! give one flying hoot at all, nor did the rules really even apply to royals as the royals participated in a lot of magical corruption and kept it all on the low.

so what a surprise! not really that he'd succeed in his conquest. not entirely since he'd only manage to bring one human to the elven realm, but now he knows for sure he's making great progress. and not only succeed in getting a nitty gritty palms on any human, but such a cute little human female like yourself.

humans are a lot more fragile, smaller, weaker, lesser intelligent beings, almost like a sub species from elves. so that's why you must be taken care of with so much extra love and attentiveness. all this was his reasoning for treating you like a minor being, enabling you and excuses for his weird kinks.

there was no way you'd ever dream of over powering him, not when a large veiny arm wrapped so tightly around your wrists, holding it behind your back, and the other with it's slender long digits effortlessly reaching your g spot.

it was 'bath time' or whatever, which called for a thorough inspection and cleanse. or just another excuse to use your body to his likings.

his tongue lap at your folds and clit, moaning in delight and relishing in all your juices spraying him. his voice muffled by your pussy, making wet sounds as he attempts to praise your gorgeous body: all of which sounds like incohesive unhinged, obsessive rambling of course.

if you ignore this scene and focus on other small things around you maybe you can, somewhat imagine yourself having a luxurious warm bath in the tub, with flowers and scented stuff in the water, scented candles creating a relaxing atmosphere, marvelous one-sided glass view... maybe not the one-sided glass view that's actually a little too scary to think about but yeah, you're having a nice little bath.

the most relaxing bath in the most prettiest and pearliest tiled bathroom you've ever been in.

your insides contorts though and you find yourself coming again undone on those perfectly manicured fingers of his, messing up his perfect face with your essence. your voice is loud and echoes throughout the bathroom, all the way into the bedroom and closet but never enough to each anyone's ears as he's casted multiple protective barrier spells to keep your presence unknown from other elven people. you've came like 5 times already and he won't let you rest, getting high off your pussy juices.

"poor baby, you look so tired, shhh don't worry~ mama will take care of everything, just relax and be good for me, okay? it'll all be over soon, my darling ^ mama will get you all cleaned up and dressed, right after this..." you wish you had the energy to welp out an 'ewwwwww da fuck?!' right about now but you were so weak and constantly sedated. you felt helpless as his bulbous tip hits your pussy, rubbing it back and forth to coat and lubricate himself with your juices. he leisurely teases, making your hole spasm and grasp around nothing, your body reacting in a lovely manner to his advances.

he licks his lips, only putting the tip in before quickly pulling back out. taking his time cause he wants to drive you insane like him. and luckily for him, his mind games always work so well.

his precum leaking and smearing you in the process as he rubs his whole length, measuring your pelvic area with his cock length and soon putting it in to see how far it'll actually go.

you almost blacked out. even though he prepped you well for this it still stings, he's just too big. and you? way too tight, squeezing him like you want every last drop of his seed, has him shivering and grunting in the process.

"fck- you're so tight, baby ngh~"

has him seeing stars and by the time he's balls deep in you and hitting the tip of your womb, you're a drooling and moaning mess. can't even control his obsessive thoughts from spilling out his mouth, he immediately gets to work on those hips too like a wild animal, only sparing a few seconds to sloppily kiss you and slap your thick behind.

it only takes a few minutes before he breaks his load inside you and shifts you into another position, manhandling you and roughing you up like a meat toilet, all for his own enjoyment and pleasure.

his long silky hair tickling your skin. when you think about it, he's so masculine with many feminine traits too, like the perfect balance actually and it is to be expected from an elf. he always wants to be in control, always wants to take care of you like a god watching over his creation. it sorta overlaps with him calling himself your mama but it makes sense in a way. he doesn't see himself as a woman in any sort of way, he just wants unrestricted authority over you.

your tears stream down your cheeks which he licks away and kisses, it only hurts your head trying to rationalize this or even understand it, your vision goes all blurry and for the next few rounds, your in and out of consciousness while being filled.

when you're awake again, you're draped in silk half naked and powdered up, you feel your caretakers strong arms wrapped around you, spooning you as rubs circles into your skin. he's also half naked with nothing but a cloth draped around himself. you both lay on a soft layered bed with many squishy pillows and blankies. fruits, steam veggies and grilled meat laid out on a silver tray for you to enjoy, though your stomach was filled with his cum.

[meanbossart]

have you ever gone into how Shadowheart and Jaheira's relationships with Drow changed him? I've seen you mention it a few times but I can't recall you actually elaborating on it, though I obviously could be missing something

Here and there, I think, but if not then I will be happy to go into it now!

Shadowheart was DU drow's first confidant, friend, and someone he found himself often relating to in general. They both got to form a bound through their amnesia and snarky-yet-pragmatic attitudes. He appreciated how practical Shadowheart was about their survival and how clearly she voiced her wishes, even if that meant telling him to fuck off - she also wasn't particularly bothered by his casual mean-ness and let all of his jokes and disrespectful comments roll off her back with ease. Shadowheart was the first in the group to gain his respect, as well as being the one whom he enjoyed spending time with the most.

Because DU drow saw so much of himself in Shadowheart, her decision to spare the Nightsong and essentially betray her "mother" had a subtle, but still important impact on the choices he made during Act 3. He saw her grow and break out of the binds of Shar even when it objectively didn't benefit her, even when it was hard or painful - and still find the time and energy to be there for him, too.

Jaheira's impact wasn't as significant, but she was still offered him some comforting insight into the lives and fates of past bhaalspawn, without sparing him of the painful truths. Similarly to Shadowheart, she welcomed his bickering and his crass jokes and always returned him in kind - Jaheira is yet another person who managed to gain DU drow's respect, and therefore her insight weighted more heavily on him.

He also really enjoyed their short exchange during the night she tries to kill you if you are a Bhaalspawn - again, he is easily charmed by people who can do something so drastic and then easily go on as if nothing happened, bonus point if they have a good humor about it too.

It really boils down to DU drow just liking them a lot. If it were just him and Astarion from the start, they would have probably run each other into the ground. Shadowheart, Jaheira, and a handful of other characters were the ones to actually set them on a slightly better path.

[rosenclaws]

Heey! I think your requests are closed, but when you open them, do you think you could write about Logan (any variant) with a reader who has a bad relationship with food? I kinda need the comfort right now, I have to eat to survive, but I hardly ever want to eat, and when I do I feel guilty about it, specially if it's not something super healthy or low cal.

I think Logan would be a really good partner and show support, make sure his partner eats well or doesn't slip meals and even cooks for them :')

Hi! Absolutely I can, I understand what you're going through and I want to know that you're loved and you have my full support <3 I picked origins Logan for this, he just gives off the softest vibes and would be a completely supportive and sweet partner. It's a little short and I apologize but I hope it helps <33

warnings: eating disorder/bad relationship with food, please don't read if this would possibly trigger you

Logan could tell something was off from the moment he walked through the door. His stomach rumbled as he smelled whatever delicious meal you were making for dinner. As he entered the kitchen he saw you pulling a pan out of dinner. Lasagna, his favorite.

"Smells fucking amazing," He purrs as he wraps his hands around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.

He still smells like pine needle and dirt from work. Normally he doesn't get back till way past dinner time but today was an easy day. How lucky he gets to eat dinner with the love of his life huh?

"Logan! You scared me." You huff as you gently push his arms off your body.

"Go clean up dinners almost ready." He frowns as you shoo him away.

Lately things have just felt off. You smiled and laughed like you always do but there were little things that just didn't feel right. Especially around meal times.

"Okay sweetheart, I'll be right back." Logan can't help but wonder what could possibly be wrong.

Are you sick? Is something bothering you? If so why wouldn't you tell him? Worries start to invade his thoughts. What could be going on that you can't even go to him about it? After a quick shower and a change of clothes he heads back to the kitchen. Only to see one plate of food sitting on the counter.

"I made it with the sauce you like, not the off brand one." You say with a smile but Logan's worry remains. He sits at the counter and takes the plate.

"Where's yours?" He asks. Your face falls for just a second. Anyone else would have missed it but not Logan. Not when it comes to you.

"Not hungry." You try and play it off, pushing the plate closer but Logan grabs your wrist.

"Logan, I had a big lunch. I'll eat later." You try and tug out of Logan's grip but he remains firm. Never enough to hurt you but enough to keep you there. To keep you from running away.

"I don't believe you. In fact, I've barely seen you eat anything in the last couple months."

The memories come flooding back. He's seen you eat, but its never much and it's always healthy. Shame starts to creep into his bones as he realizes he's failed to put the pieces together. All this time.

"Please sweetheart, whatever is going on you can tell me." Tears start to well up in your eyes as Logan speaks.

You never meant for him to find out. You thought you could handle this on your own. You had been so careful and eat just enough so that he never caught on. But the truth is you're exhausted. Food is nothing more that a means to survive. Everyday you force yourself to eat just enough and no more. Its been exhausting. Especially if the food you eat is too many calories or just plain unhealthy.

Logan almost jumps across the counter the moment he sees the tears, fearing the worst. He abandons his dinner in favor of wrapping you in his arms on the couch. Cooing softly as you cry and explain everything to him. He doesn't say a word, he just listens. Rubbing your back and letting you soak his shirt with tears.

When you're done you prepare for the worst. What if Logan leaves? I mean it would certainly be easier for him to not have to deal with. All of this. But he doesn't. With gentle hands he cups your face and dries your tears.

"I'm so sorry." He mumbles. Sorry that he didn't notice sooner and sorry you've been carrying this for so long.

"Are you mad?" You ask quietly.

"No, of course not." Logan presses a kiss to your forehead.

"Listen honey, this isn't healthy." He knows that you know that but its not as easy as just a flip of a switch to change habits that had been built for years.

"I'm going to be with you every step of the way alright?" He says, tilting your head up so you can look him in the eyes. He wants you to know that he truly means every word.

"Okay," Logan pulls you into a tight hug, whispering sweet words over and over. He wishes he could take all your pain away in an instant. He'd bear it for you without even asking, but he can't.

But he stays true to his promise. Logan is there when you need him, to remind you to eat and taking it upon himself to make meals for you and with you. Some days were harder than others but Logan carried the weight you couldn't.

Things still aren't easy, but with Logan by your side you think you might be able to do anything.

[cinematicnomad]

math seems like the worst way to go about finding a fic to read. this isn't tiktok or twitter or instagram—there's no algorithm! ao3 is an archive. the stats of a fic are, in my opinion, only useful or interesting to the author. as a reader you can pretty much ignore them.

like alli pointed out—the hits to kudos ratio doesn't tell you much if a fic has a lot of re-reads or if a fic has a lot of chapters! every new chapter counts as a new hit. 1 person reading a 15 chapter fic will generate a minimum of 15 hits, but they can only give 1 kudo. and that doesn't include if they close the page by accident, open it up on another device or browser, etc. searching by hits or kudos is almost always going to have a bias towards older and already popular fics—they've just been around longer, so of course they're going to have more hits. that doesn't mean these fics aren't worth reading—they definitely are. but it means you're missing out on a lot of great options out there.

the way to find a good fic is just a combination of filtering the tags you're looking for and then...scrolling. read the summary. look at the tags. open what you think looks interesting. give it a few paragraphs or at least one chapter. you'll find the best fics wroth reading...by reading. the search might be tedious, but it's how i've found almost every fic i've ever loved. and a lot of those have been fics that i decided to give a chance for one reason or another—bc the tags included some random combo that was compelling enough for me or bc the summary was just that little bit extra.

my go to tip if you have a fandom you read a lot for: bookmark your search with your tags already filtered. if you KNOW you're never going to want to read a major character death fic, just have that already filtered and bookmarked. it makes your life way easier.

the other way is by keeping an eye out for recs from people who's tastes and opinions you trust. don't be afraid to send someone an ask on tumblr and ask if they have any favorite fics they'd want to recommend. or if you like one fic, check out if the author has other works. look to see if they have public bookmarks. you can rely on the built in community of the fandom.

i for one am always happy to share my favorite fics with people! and i try to tag any of my recommendations with #fic rec if you ever want to go through my blog to find some.

Another AO3 thing I’m curious about, how do yall decide if something is good enough to read? Usually I follow a rule of 1 kudos for every 10 hits. One because it’s easy math and two it’s yet to fail me. Thoughts? Do you just go for it and pray it’s good?

[archangeldyke-all]

Hi Angel!! I first wanted to say that I love all your Sevika stories, they never fail to make my days better!

So, I've recently been thinking about little fucker and the twins a lot ((bc I found out I'm gonna be an aunt for twins :DD and it made me wonder how did Sev and Reader react to the news, like.. "what. WERE HAVING TWINS??? HOW." something like this lmao.

Not sure if you've already written something like this, but I've practically read all of your masterlists lmao. If you did feel free to skip cuz I have really bad short term memory ;))

oh my god that's so exciting!!! congrats auntie!!! i think i wrote a few little sentences about this in one of the first twins posts, but lets make it a full fledged story heheeh <3

(also as always with these stories, don't think too much about how the pregnancy happened. reader is trans, or has a magical strap, or it's just yuri magic. you choose hehe)

men and minors dni

for the first few days after sevika's pregnancy test coming back positive, you're both living in denial.

"how am i pregnant? i thought this was menopause! i thought i was done with all this shit!" sevika whines.

you giggle a little hysterically, then pull her into your arms. "i have no fuckin' idea." you say, blinking in shock. "holy shit. i actually knocked you up."

sevika giggles just as crazily in your hold. "congrats."

"i've been trying to get revenge on you for little fucker since you first knocked me up with her!" you laugh. sevika snorts and smacks your shoulder.

"don't say revenge. oh fuck, this is gonna miserable, isn't it?" sevika whines. you kiss her sweetly.

"it's the most amazing thing that's ever happened!"

"you're such a shit. you're just happy it isn't you this time around."

"damn right i am!" you laugh. sevika smiles at you, and then her face falls. you coo and wrap her up in another hug. "it's gonna be alright sevi-bear. i'm gonna be with you every step of the way."

"no, it's not that." sevika whimpers as she nuzzles against your shoulder. "i'm just-- i'm so happy. we're gonna have another one, baby, holy shit."

you grin and pull sevika in for a kiss.

her reaction isn't quite as happy when you get to your doctor's office, though.

"o-oh!" the ultrasound tech gasps.

"good 'oh?'" sevika worries, sitting up a bit from her spot on the paper covered exam table.

"you're having twins, mommies! congratulations!" the tech gasps, grinning up at you and sevika.

you blink.

the tech giggles with glee and turns back to her monitor, clearly handling the news better than you are. you blink again, then look down at sevika.

she's glaring at you like she's going to murder you.

it's only now that the tech's words hit you. and for some reason, you burst into laughter.

"t-twins?!" you cackle. "like, two of 'em?! how-- how the hell did we do that!?" you ask.

the tech blinks up at you in surprise, opens her mouth to speak, but you don't hear her answer. you're too busy grinning down at your wife.

"i'm gonna kill you." sevika finally whispers. you burst into another round of laughs.

"alright. just wait 'til after the pregnancy, think you might want me around these next few months, mama." you tease.

sevika's glare is deadly, but you can't find it in you to stop laughing. holy shit. two more little babies running around your house. if they're anything like their sister, they'll look exactly like sevika. tears well up in your eyes as you gaze lovingly down at your angry wife, imagining two pairs of grumpy baby eyes glaring up at you while you try to change their diapers.

"are you crying?!" sevika squawks. "why the hell are you crying, i should be the one crying!"

"you can cry too, baby!" you giggle, a surge of love taking over your body. before you know what's happening, you're smacking the tech's hand away from your wife's belly and straddling her waist, peppering her face with an endless barrage of kisses. "oh, holy shit, baby, we're gettin' two more of 'em!"

sevika's glare lessens a bit, a small smile ticking up at the corner of her mouth. you can see her softening to the idea; two more babies for you to love; but before a full smile can take over her face she forces herself back into a frown. "we can barely afford the kid we've got." she huffs.

you snort. "that's the beauty of hand-me-downs, sev. plus, silco gave you a big raise when we had the little fucker, what makes you think he'll hold back now that it's your turn?"

"we live in a two bedroom home!"

"we can move!"

"while i'm pregnant with twins?!"

"i'll start looking for a new place the second we get home."

sevika finally smiles, rolling her eyes and giggles a bit. "i can't believe you." she whispers. you grin.

"you're the love of my fucking life. i can't believe you."

the door clicks shut, and you both look up from your embrace to find that the tech has snuck out to give you some privacy.

and, finally, sevika bursts into laughter along with you.

taglist!!

@sevikas-baby @ghostscandys @sevikasllver @runawaybaby3 @lesbones

@chezze-its @lez-zuha @vikashoneybee @shanesevikasfuckdoll @imheadintothemountains

@nanajustnana-a @helaenabugmom

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@strawberrykidneystone @vkumi @fict1onallyobsessed @dvrkhcld @sweetybuzz25

@sluttysierraaa @snake-in-a-flower-crown @ruiwonderz @littlemisszaunite @biblicalcrybaby

@blackgaladriel @nightlyconfusion @dancingqu33n17 @losernb @p1nkearth

[mask-duo]

I'm doing research on women and fandom for one of my journalism portfolio assignments and a lot of the readings I've been doing talk about the way celebrities who have a majority female audience, specifically a teen girl audience, and who profit off these girls are always so quick to distance themselves from it. They don't want anything to do with teenage girls their main goal is to surpass this threshold and appeal to a general audience - a male audience. Even when they talk about their audience they'll always mention that there are male fans and generally tend to deride their female fans and it's just like the only celebrity I've ever seen not do that is dream. The only fucking one. Sure he didn't expect to have a majority female/queer audience but he welcomed that shit with Open Arms. He's not blameless bc ofc he's defended himself saying he also has male fans but I've never ever seen another celebrity sit and take the sides of the female fangirl ever. And if they have a larger audience (like dream does) the fangirls are not the people to be catered to, not the people to be appreciated, but regardless I've seen dream embrace us and our fandom ways with so much love and affection it's making me a bit emotional

[calicocreatures]

[ID 1:

In @/hot2go's addition, a passage of a book reads as follows.

When I am feeling dreary, annoyed, and generally unimpressed by life, I imagine what it would be like to come back to this world for just a day after having been dead. I imagine how sentimental I would feel about the very things I once found stupid, hateful or mundane. [italics] Oh, there's a light switch! I haven't seen a light switch in so long! I didn't realize how much I missed light switches! Oh! Oh! And look—the stairs up to our front porch are still completely cracked! Hello, cracks! Let me get a good look at you. And there's my neighbor, standing there, fantastically alive, just the same, still punctuating her sentences with [end italics] you know what I'm saying? [italics] Why did that used to bother me? It's so ... endearing. [end italics]

End ID 1.]

[ID 2: A four-panel comic by @/ChrisHallbeck.

Panel 1: A stick figure sitting at a desk with their laptop throws their hands up and looks dismayed. "I'm an idiot! I've been putting off this project forever but now that I've started it, I can see this is what I was meant to do! I can't believe I wasted five years avoiding it."

Another stick figure standing next to the first says, "Pretend it was fifteen years."

Panel 2: The stick figure at the desk looks confused. "What?"

The stick figure by the desk explains, "You actually put this off for fifteen years and traveled back in time to right now. You get to redo the next decade the way you've always wanted."

Panel 3: A close-up of the stick figure at the desk looking stunned.

Panel 4: Both stick figures smile. The one at the laptop bends over the keys. Sound effect text says, "click clack clickity click click clack."

End ID.]

i like to pretend i already died and asked god to send me back to earth so i can swim in lakes again and see mountains and get my heart broken and love my friends and cry so hard in the bathroom and go grocery shopping 1,000 more times. and that i promised i would never forget the miracle of being here