#but I am not comfortable only in absolutes

[graciedollie]

Humorous

pairs: ambessa medara x wife!reader

summary: It was a pretty hectic you had to endure and you didn’t have the best attitude—it especially didn’t help that you’re wife pestered on about asking what was your deal. She watched with amusement as you practically snapped at her—already knowing what she had in store with you.

warning(s): lots, LOTS OF DIRTY TALK, some praises, spanking 😛, hair pulling, fingering, use of the hexstrap, pussy slaps (OMLLLL), and just ambessa being mean tbh, she’s chill at first but…YOU’LL SEE, also brief mention of edging :p

A/N: i love women. that is all.

Today was a shitty day for you. It was utterly hectic and things were NOT going for you. Let’s just say, you’re weren’t a happy camper. First, you woke up with a headache that did not go away—even after you ate, then you were constantly being followed around by soldiers that your wife ordered to do so, and overall, you just had a bad, bad attitude.

But anywho, you were now in the bedroom and straightening a few things as you found that cleaning helped you relax a bit, but not even that was helping. Your ears picked up heavy footsteps of your wife, feeling her strong arms wrap around your waist.

“Hello, My Sweet..”

A small sigh fell from your lips as her lips trailed down your neck, slowly pulling away from her as you grumbled, “Hi honey..”

She raised a brow at your distant behavior, wondering what could be troubling her dear wife. She settled down on a nearby chair, manspreading comfortably as she leaned back with an amused expression while she continued to poke you—wanting to see what was really the matter.

And, boy did she.

Your body tensed as your head snapped at her, pointing a finger at her with a scowl written on your face; absolutely snapping at her with your irritated tone. Your face was scrunched up, brows furrowed, and voice strained with irritation and frustration—which Ambessa found humorous, especially with the fact you just snapped at her.

She sat there, patiently and leisurely, listening to you rant and fuss at her as you rambled on about your shit day that you’ve terribly endured. She was honestly so quiet that you wondered if she was even listening to you.

“Are you even listening to me, Ambessa?” You snarled at her as your eyes flashed with annoyance, placing your hands on your hips.

“Oh, of course I am, sweetheart, but you know how I am with the attitudes, My Dear….you know that. I suggest—“

“I don’t have an attitude.” You interrupted her with a stern voice as your face scrunched up with irritation at her words, only adding gasoline to the fire.

Her brows raised in slight amusement, leaning back in the chair with a calm expression as she nodded a swift nod, “Oh really?”

You knew that tone of voice. Yeah, you were in for one..

You definitely fucked up. Internally cursing yourself for snapping at her with your attitude—knowing how she felt strongly about attitudes. So here you were now. Completely naked. Completely sprawled out. Face messed with tears as her hand came down on your soaked cunt with a slap, causing you to jerk your thighs closed.

Your wife shot you a warning glare, quickly opening your legs back up before she said anything—letting her resume her torture. Her hooded eyes gaze down at the sticky mess between your thighs, chuckling at the downright pathetic sight, “This is quite the sight..”

A whine bubble in your throat at her words, looking up at her with pleading eyes as chest rise and fell quickly with each heavy pant—causing your tits to jiggle. Another slap after another, another, and another—causing you to be a complete sobbing mess.

“What’s with the tears now, little one? Where’s that fiery bite you had earlier?” When her question was answered, a particular firm slap landed on your clit, making you jolt.

“When I ask a question, I expect an answer. Do not. Make me repeat myself.”

“I’m sorry! Please, baby, ‘m sorry…so sorry…didn’t mean to, I swear..” Your voice was whiny and shaky with tears, sniffling and whimper as your hips bucked up to her touch.

She could only let out an unamused chuckle at your desperation, only finding it humorous to her. Her eyes gazed down at you before grasping your cheeks, making your lips pucker together in a pout. “Mm…you’re sorry? You’re sorry, My Love?”

Her voice was uncharacteristically soft and gentle—as if she wasn’t just slapping your cunt just while ago. Her eyes stared into your teary ones, taking notice of the slow nod of your head. “Yes…’m sorry, please..”

Her thumb grazed over you bottom lip, cooing softly at the sight of her previous wife in such a state before a slap came back down on your cunt—crying out in pain before she grasped your cheeks firmly.

“I’ll show you sorry.”

And boy, did she?

You were on all four. Arms struggling to hold you up. One of her warm, large hands on your hip to steady you as the other was preoccupied with fucking you with her fingers; filling you to the brim with just two. Tears were trailing down your cheeks as you sniffles and whined—occasionally yelling as her hand came down harsh on your ass.

She smirked with amusement at your pathetic state—though you couldn’t see the smirk, but you can practically hear it in her voice. “Mm, I do wonder on where that chatty mouth of yours went. Do you think you’ve proven to me that you’re sorry, Dear?”

You nodded your head frantically at her low words, feeling your body seize at the upcoming orgasm—though it was ruined when she slipped her fingers out and her hand came down hard on your ass.

“Words.”

“Yes! Y-yes—I’m so sorry, baby! Please…I swear!” You cries out as your thighs trembled as you were edged for the fourth time during this moment of torture. A pleased smile tugged at her dark lips, soothing the stinging pain on your ass with a gentle rub before slipping her finger back inside you with a lewd squelch—earning a choked moan from you.

“Good. Seems you’re getting better at listening instead of running your mouth with such a nasty attitude.”

Your brain was so clouded you could barely even comprehend of her words, only focusing on the way her thick fingers pumped in and out of you with quick, deep thrusts—though you could hear the lines of:

“Feel how deep I am? Filling you up so nicely, aren’t I?”

“Squeezing my fingers so tight…such a greedy girl..”

“Practically drenching my fingers at this point, Love. Such a mess..”

You’re so close, aren’t you? Maybe I should pull away and just leave you here—aching for my touch.”

“You’re lucky I’m giving you such pleasure with the little stunt you pulled—move your hand.”

The pleasure became utterly overwhelming—having that your other organs were denied and this one feel so intense—and you couldn’t help, but reach back to her wrist.

“Please—Bessa…too much! Please, baby…”

Your voice cracked with a whine as her fingers hit that same spot that made your toes curl and vision cloud with stars repeatedly. She didn’t respond, only pinning your arm down on the small of your back—leaning close to your ear as her breath was hot against your skin.

“You’ll take whatever I give you..”

Your mind was completely clouded. Your hand gripped at the sheets tightly as your knees threatened to give out. Mouth hung open with broken moans and weak whimpers leaving as tears trailed down your cheek. Squelching noises filled the room as she was brutally thrusting into your soaked cunt over and over with her ruby red strap—hitting that sweet spot dead on.

A yelp fell from your mouth as you felt your hair being rugged back, forcing your arch to deepened and the angle to become better for her thrusts. Your eyes fluttered with tears as your body jerked with the harsh slap of her hand against your ass.

“What was all that talk about ‘too much’? It doesn’t seem that way with how tight you’re gripping me in—almost as if you don’t want me to pull away..”

The way her hand repeatedly kept slapping your ass caused you to cry out in pain, but also pleasure as her thrusts became quick and deep gradually. You felt drool trickle down your cheek as your mouth hung open with punctured mewls—spewing her on more.

“Oh, my sweet girl….taking me so well, hm? That nasty attitudes all gone, just needed me to fix it, hm? Oh, I know, Honey…”

Your eyes rolled back as her words made your pussy throb, jerking your hips back as you practically fucked yourself back onto her—earning a low chuckle from your dear wife.

“Look at that…’ts funny how you declared it was too much not too long ago, My Dear…but I know you wanted this, baby.

Funny how things change so quickly, am I right?

you could probably tell the ending was rushed lowkey 🥲hoped you enjoyed it tho <3

[drunkportuguese]

This entire thread is a bit upsetting. Let's take a look at an excerpt from this article:

"Maintained his physical fitness by working out with exercise bands for an hour, five days a week."

And

"His sleep quality improved significantly, with 60 to 66% of his nights now spent in deep REM sleep."

He also got regular visits from scientists and from family. And he's a retired naval officer meaning he's more than likely to feel comfortable in/around the ocean.

I'm a person of science and I am excited to see what experiments like these can offer - but it's absolutely ridiculous to claim that water pressure was the only thing responsible for his improvement. He had regular exercise, a controlled diet (no impulse buy fast food, nor that one lazy meal we all make like pasta with sausages and ketchup), no lack of socialization, extreme peace and quiet (helps sleep AND awake time), and no stressors like bills or grocery shopping or house chores or whatever else. All he had to do all day was literally exist and read and shit.

Listen, LISTEN. I am all for scientific discoveries and development. I won't deny that hyperbaric chambers might have health benefits but to attribute all of this solely to that doesn't seem correct. This entire article smells like yet another bottle of snake oil directed at rich people.

Edit: some comments from this post

Ok

[lemonlover1110]

𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Sukuna

[Chapter 8] Bargain

← Previous Chapter - Story Masterlist

Pairing: Trueform!Sukuna x f!Reader

*happy new year🫶

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi - Bluesky

There’s been a mood shift in the room. You weren’t cheery before per say, but you definitely weren’t like this. It feels as if the place has shifted from a warm orange hue to cold blue. 

Perhaps it was always like this and he didn’t notice. He’s come to see you in a different light after you announced that you didn’t care for the babies. He shouldn’t care if you want the babies or not, as long as you nurture them when they’re born– Yet, he can’t help but dwell on the thought.

“Are they kicking?” Sukuna asks, watching as you slowly eat the food that’s in front of you. Maybe things look more drastically different since his perspective of you has changed, but some things are absolutely different. You’re barely talking.

Sukuna is trying to make conversation with a woman for fuck’s sake. A woman is only good for having sex in his eyes, he shouldn’t be trying to make conversation.

“No.” You answer as you continue to quietly eat your dinner. 

“You’re going to give birth soon, no?” He questions and you shrug. You’ve lost track of time. Winter has just begun… Or is it ending soon? Days all seem the same that you’ve lost track of time. You’re due sometime in the spring, that much you know. “Will you use your words?”

“How do you want me to respond? I don’t know, my dear king?” You respond and he furrows his brows. He doesn’t like the hint of attitude that comes with your words. But there’s something Sukuna knows: beggars can’t be choosers, therefore he won’t reprimand you for speaking to him like that.

“The servants are working on clothes for them.” Sukuna announces, and you don’t react in any way. It’s fine, he didn’t expect you to. Though he won’t lie and say that he isn’t looking at your face to see some sort of excitement at the mention of the babies. He doesn’t know why, but he wants you to get excited about them.

“I’m finished. May I go to sleep?” You question, as you try to get up from your seat– A true struggle lately considering your belly is huge.

“Since when do you care to ask for permission?” He replies, and he’s met with a cold glare.

“I’m your prisoner, am I not?” You respond, and Sukuna realizes that your recent behavior is all tied back to that.

You’ve been having nightmares lately, and it becomes hard for Sukuna to ignore. It’s every night, and he isn’t sure what to do. At first he would simply watch you as you helplessly tossed and turned, but lately they’ve gotten more intense. Sukuna can’t stand and watch.

He’s growing soft, he knows he is. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be holding you to his chest, hand caressing your back. He needs you to rest enough, and that’s not possible if your nightmares get the best of you. If you’re tossing and turning, calling out for help then you’re not resting. 

He wants to know the root of the bad dreams, but he doesn’t care enough to look into the issue. He doesn’t mind this position though, holding you is like holding a little warm ball. He’d never say it outloud, but he’s cold; he won’t shiver or tremble, but he’s still cold.

“Sukuna.” He’s falling asleep, but your soft voice wakes him up. “What are you doing?”

“You have nightmares.” He informs you, as if you were unaware of your own dreams. Is this why you haven’t been waking lately? Has he been comforting you?

“I’m sorry.” You feel the odd need to apologize, something that irritates Sukuna’s ears. It ends up with him scolding you,

“You don’t ever apologize.” Which is quickly followed by another apology from you. He can’t win with you, and it’s fine. He won’t scold you again. Sukuna can’t help but ask, “What have you been dreaming about anyway?”

“Nothing.” You answer, which makes Sukuna put you back down on the futon. Of course you won’t open up so easily, but it frustrates him. His behavior is what dug him into this hole, he shouldn’t care. 

“Do the babies cause you discomfort?” Sukuna questions, and you chuckle.

“When do they not?” You respond. “Falling asleep is a struggle, it’s no surprise I’m having nightmares.”

“Are you having nightmares related to them?” Sukuna questions, and you remain silent. While Sukuna would take that answer as a yes, he isn’t sure this time around. He isn’t great at picking up social cues, but he’s pretty damn sure that he’s on the receiving end of the silent treatment. 

Sukuna takes a long time to think about this weird situation. He asked Uraume about this, but they didn’t have a good answer– Then he asked Hina, an answer that he quickly dismissed. He tries to recall what that answer was.

Then it dawns on him, “A woman dropped off a baby.”

“Your next meal, huh? Enjoy.” You respond, and Sukuna rolls his eyes. You’ve gotten bold, he’ll give you that.

“I don’t eat babies.” He answers. “Babies that are dropped off are raised as servants.”

No answer.

“You can ask Uraume if you want to visit him tomorrow.” Sukuna adds, and your interest is piqued.

“Him? It’s a boy?” You question, and Sukuna hums in response. You furrow your eyebrows, realizing that Sukuna is doing this for a reason. He wants you to look at a baby and think of the children that you grow inside of you. It’s not going to work though, there’s no way in hell that you’ll end up caring for his kids.

“Do you want to meet him or not?” Sukuna presses for an answer, wondering if Hina’s advice is any good. He might just kill her tomorrow if you refuse. Though, you adore Hina and he has to get on your good side so he might just spare her.

“Sure.”

“Uraume, why are you here?” You question when Sukuna's dear servant comes into your room. You rarely see them unless Sukuna is around. Sukuna is tending other business which means that you’re alone– Alone in the sense that he isn’t breathing down your neck, you’re still being watched by everyone else.

“King Sukuna told me you were meeting the baby. He wants me to take you there.” Uraume answers, and you sigh. He’s set on you meeting that baby, he so desperately wants you to change your mind. You can’t help but find it odd, he wants you to love the babies that you grow inside of you.

“Let’s go.” You respond. Uraume gives you a subtle nod before they turn around and leave the room. You follow behind, mentally preparing yourself to not fall for Sukuna’s dumb trick. Perhaps you should’ve turned him down last night, you're not the strongest when it comes to children.

You get to see a side of the palace that you’ve never come across. As you walk past everyone, you’re reminded that you hold some sort of power; a power that you forgot you held since Sukuna is constantly next to you. They bow down to you as you simply walk past them, as if you would actually do something to them.

Uraume leads you to the kitchen, where two women try to calm down the crying baby. Uraume is about to speak, but you shush them before they can say anything. You can read their next move, you don’t want the woman to stop simply to bow down to you.

“Let me hold him.” You tell the women, who have yet to realize who you are. They hand him over to you, desperate for a solution. The sound of a crying baby is absolutely not pleasant.

“Oh, look at you.” You gush at the boy who wails. He’s hungry with no way of feeding. “He’s too young for anything solid, huh?”

“Yes–” One of them speaks, until she realizes who you are. She bows down, and her colleague quickly follows suit. You nearly roll your eyes at the action, as if this wasn’t what you wanted when you asked Sukuna to marry you.

“Stand up.” You order, and they’re hesitant, but they do as you tell them. “What were you saying?”

The women look at each other, afraid of how to proceed. Regardless, they have to answer. “Yes, he’s too young for solids. We’ve never had a baby this young in our quarters, and we’re not sure how to proceed. We need a wet nurse but none of our servants are currently–”

“I’ll do it.” You cut her off as you stare down at the hungry baby. Oh, he looks so much like your Haru, you’d never forgive yourself if the baby died of hunger.

“My queen, that’s not appropriate. King Sukuna would be livid.” Uraume chimes in, though their words fall on deaf ears. 

“Uraume, I’m going back to my room. I’ll tell Hina to give the baby back.” You tell them, bouncing the baby, hoping that the cries die down; you know it’s helpless, the baby won’t stop until he’s fed. 

“My queen–” Uraume begins, but you begin to walk away. You’re smiling at the baby as he cries. Even when he’s crying, he looks so darn cute.

“Oh, how could someone abandon you? You’re so cute.” You tell him, as if you didn’t feel the same way about your babies– And you try not to think about it, but maybe Sukuna’s plan is working. There’s a twinge of guilt as you think about your refusal of loving your babies. 

Maybe the stupid monster has a brain after all.

You lied, you were planning to hand back the baby boy as soon as you fed him, but he’s still in your arms. He looks at you with his beautiful brown wide eyes, and a smile on his face. You can’t let him go. You don’t doubt that he’ll be treated well, but he can have anything he needs right beside your side. Additionally, he makes great company. 

“Oh, that stupid monster’s plan is working.” You mention as the baby yawns in your arms. You can’t fathom the thought of someone leaving this precious baby behind. Except, Sukuna’s sons will be nothing like this calm baby.

“Hina!” You call out, and the woman is in your room within seconds. She bows down her head, and waits for your order. You smile down at the baby in your arms as you tell her, “Get him a warm blanket.”

“King Sukuna–” She begins, but you cut her off before she can finish her sentence. 

“Did I ask about Sukuna?” You question, and she shakes her head. “Then you’ll do as I say. Get him a blanket.”

“Of course.” She responds, nodding her head before walking away. It’s a risk she’s willing to take, even though there’s the possibility that Sukuna won’t be too happy. You were supposed to simply meet the baby, not get attached. There’s nothing she can do now, the matter is out of her hands.

“I hope his babies are as cute as you are.” You murmur as you bounce the baby in your arms. His little eyes are shutting on their own, and you stick out your bottom lip as your little pal begins to drift to sleep.

Hina comes back with a blanket, and you almost snatch it from her hands to cover him. 

“When is the monster coming back?” You ask, knowing that Sukuna is going to force you to give him back. Sure, he suggested the idea but he won’t want you to keep the baby by your side. “Who’s going to feed him if Sukuna takes him from me?”

“I’ve ordered some servants to find a wet nurse, he’ll be fine.” Hina answers but you don’t like that answer. You’re not sure why though, it’s for his own good.

“Can I keep him with me forever?” You’re perhaps a little drastic. You’ve grown attached rather fast– Well, it’s not necessarily hard to grow attached when you’re lonely. 

“My queen, you know that King Sukuna would never allow it.” Hina reminds you, and you can’t help but sigh. She’s not wrong. “Plus, you’re expecting two wonderful babies.”

“They’re not going to be like this…” You comment, and Hina can’t help but chuckle. Babies are babies, whether they’re Sukuna’s kids or not.

“My queen, you do realize that they’re going to be babies.” She responds as your eyes linger on the sleeping baby.

“They’ll pop out with four arms and a tummy mouth—“ You begin, wondering how his babies will end up looking. How much different will they look compared to the rest?

“My queen, you do realize that they’re half of you as well?” She reminds you, and you furrow your eyebrows. They’re also your babies… They will carry your blood whether you accept it or not. “They’re not just King Sukuna’s babies, but yours as well.”

“Of course.” You nod, staring down at the baby. She’s right, even if they come out with four arms and a tummy mouth, they’re still your own blood. Whether you love them or not, won’t change anything.

“He’s here.” Hina informs you as she hears the loud footsteps from far away. For some odd reason, you feel your breath get caught up in your chest, knowing that he’s approaching. 

Hina bows down the moment the door to your room opens, only to not be acknowledged in any way by him. Sukuna’s eyes directly land on you, quickly going to the boy that you hold in your arms. He’s wrapped in a blanket that was made for your sons.

“Get out.” Sukuna says, and Hina stands up to do as he says. Though it’s not quick enough for him, because he proceeds to yell, “Get out!”

“Oh, you’ve woken him up.” You’re annoyed as you hear the crying baby. Just when he’s finally resting, he’s woken up by a screaming monster.

“Why were you feeding that baby?” Sukuna tries not to yell, knowing that he’ll just make matters worse by raising his voice. You’re shushing and bouncing the baby, trying to calm him down. Sukuna won’t be so accepting unless you tell him what he wants to hear.

You’ll tell him whatever he wants to hear.

“Your plan worked.” You tell him, standing up from your seat. The anger from Sukuna fades away, as curiosity overtakes him. “I’ll love your babies.”

His eyes widen, and he feels… Joyous? He’s happy. He likes the fact that his plan worked. Though he doubts that it’s going to be easy. You’re holding a baby in your arms, you must want something more.

“As long as you treat him like your own, I’ll love them.” You respond as you hand the baby to Sukuna. He glares down at the screaming child, wondering how the hell you’ve become so attached to this little human in a matter of hours.

“What?” Sukuna questions, refusing to hold the baby in his arms. You have to repeat yourself,

“Treat him as your own son, and I’ll be the mother you want me to be.”

[dragon-ascent]

In a library tucked away in a secret corner of the world, the scent of musk, amber and cedar wood permeates the air. Against the chocolate-coloured walls, the dark bookshelves are chock-full of stories, like any other library. In this library, though, each one is about the same golden-eyed god.

Rex Lapis, Morax, the Geo Lord, the God of Contracts, the God of Gold, the Prime of Adepti, a warrior god, his titles are endless. These stories see him draped in the finest white, hurled into the heat of battle and coming out on top. With every reluctant victory, the deity seeks only to see the peace of his people - and of you, your smile unfaltering in times of turmoil.

Rex in his adeptal dragon form, soaring high up above the scenery below, all shimmering scales and billowing mane while he weaves his way through the clouds. His keen eyes scan the land--and he purrs when he catches sight of what he was looking for. There you are, chattering and skipping along with your friends in your garden, sharing both laughs and snacks. His purrs amplify as he continues his sky-borne sojourn, leaving you to your frolicking. Another day, he shall like to shrink down and frolic with you too.

There's also Chonkli, his paws clinging to you as he seeks out your attention. He chuffs as you thread your fingers through his fur, feeling the tender warmth radiating off his small body. Licking your hand as his tail thumps against your thigh affectionately, he gazes up at you and imagines no greater comfort than this. The pages of these such stories have tiny paw-prints inked in their corners.

Zhongli-jiejie, with her lustrous locks flowing elegantly around her as she pulls you into a dance, her smiling eyes twinkling under the moonlight. Her soft humming permeates the night air, and as she draws you close to her plush bosom, she whispers something into your ear. Whatever it may be, your eyes close, and there you rest against the goddess, suspended mid-dance like a still image as your position holds.

And finally there's Zhongli, humble salaryman with a penchant for correcting the most knowledgeable historians on their facts of the Lord of Geo. You can praise him for his past feats all you like, but what makes him most happy is when you sit down to share some of your strawberry cake with him on a pleasant eve while the falling leaves flutter round, ushering in a new season.

His story remains yet unfinished, the ink continuing to loop along the pages in neat and glossy lines of text. There doesn't seem to be an end to the pages in sight, the tale of Zhongli heading further onwards and upwards, perhaps beyond Celestia itself.

Where shall the next chapter lead you?

Happy birthday to the man I am absolutely NORMAL about. Trust me, I am normal!

[a-spes]

This is a list of the fic' I have read last year, and that, in my opinion, everyone should read at least one. it is not exhaustive, but it still has something like forty-five links so you've got plenty to read already.

Do not hesitate to share your favorites as well, and think about reblogging and leaving comments under the fic you are reading. it is important to appreciation to the writers, especially if you want to keep having fic' to read <3

You can also have a look at my masterlist while you are here 👉👈

Happy new year to everyone <3

| NATASHA ROMANOFF.

✧ UNDER HER SHADOW, by @engr4veq. — mafia au. kidnapping.

✧ BENCHED, by @silhouetteonpaper. — angst, fluff. it is also my absolute favorite.

✧ LITTLE SPIDEY, by @yelenasdiary. — angst with comfort.

✧ OPPORTUNITY, by @silhouetteonpaper. — slight angst, mainly fluff. protective natasha.

✧ IS THIS HATRED? OR LOVE? by @huggingkoalas. — fluff, one bed trope.

✧ ON THE RUN, by @silhouetteonpaper. — angst. fluff/comfort. they are truly adorable.

✧ DON'T HIDE, by @purifiedclitoris69. — slight angst with comfort.

✧ THE CYCLE OF GRIEF, by @silhouetteonpaper. — angst.

✧ SECRETS BEHIND OUR DREAMS, by @thewidowsledger. — series. mob boss!natasha x stripper!R. definitely do not believe the bad writing tag, it is a lie.

✧ GETTING CLOSER TO YOU, by @wanatasha. — short series. bounty hunter!natasha. the account is desactivated sadly, but their writing is very good :(

✧ BRAVE, by @traveler-at-heart. — angst. loss.

✧ PARAMEDIC, by @natsaffection. — motorcycle accident. paramedic!natasha. really cute. slight angst.

✧ BY ANY MEANS, by @may-fanfic.

✧ ONE STEP AT A TIME, by @natsaffection. — mental health issues. loss.

✧ IS IT THE END? by @katyaromanoffpetrova. — xOC. angst. I don't usually read fic' that are not xR, but damn, this one is definitely worth it.

✧ DERIVED FROM POWER, by @silhouetteonpaper. — series.

✧ ALONE AGAIN, by @goldenempyrean. — if you want your heart to be broken.

✧ FAMILY DINNER, by @marvelfilth. — mainly fluff.

✧ FORTY, LOVE, by @munariplans. — tennis player!R. heavy angst. very well written. It broke my heart, but I really was obsessed with it.

✧ WHERE DID YOU GO? by @imaginedanvrs. — angst. mentions of kidnapping and torture.

| WANDA MAXIMOFF.

✧ FRACTURED FUTURES, by @stayevildarling. — angst. hurt/comfort.

| WANDANAT.

✧ THE RED MEANS I LOVE YOU, by @saphiccarma. — mob bosses. serie.

✧ MOUNTAINS, by @stayevildarling. — angst. hurt/comfort. mention of trouble eating. this one is my absolute favorite.

✧ JUST COME HOME, by @katethewriter. — angst. secret relationship trope.

✧ SHEEP IN WOLF'S CLOTHING, by @cookiesimpt. — dark. adults only. werewolf!R.

✧ SHOW AND TELL, by @imaginedanvrs. — dark. smut.

✧ PENDULUM, by @wandaslittlebird. — sub drop. comfort.

✧ SHOWING EVERYTHING, by @natsaffection. — angst.

✧ YOU ARE IN LOVE, by @wandasaura. — angst/comfort. smut. it would be criminal to not add this one to the list.

✧ GOOD LUCK, BABE, by @stayevildarling. — angst. comfort. mentions of abusive partner (not wandanat). i love this plot so much, it is perfect for angst/comfort.

✧ VAMPIRE EMPIRE, by @ahhhwomen. — dark. vamp!WandaNat. I am obsessed with this series, it is so well written, and the angst is perfect.

✧ THE BEAST YOU'VE MADE OF ME, by @unholyhelbig. — series. so well written that i don't have the words.

✧ NOTICE ME, by @yelenasdiary.

✧ CAPTURED, by @infamous-light. — villain!R. mind manipulation. manhandling.

| WANDANAT X CORDELIA GOODE.

✧ TANGLED IN DOUBT, by @stayevildarling. — angst. self doubts. comfort.

| WANDA x NATASHA x MARIA.

✧ TO BE TAMED, by @greatpower-greaterresposibility. — dark. heavy pet play.

| WANDA x KATE.

✧ Na úpätí trónu, by @kitmoas. — dark. smut.

| BLACKHILL.

✧ LET ME CHECK, by @wandasaura. — smut. this one makes me feral if i am being honest.

✧ EVEN STATUES CRUMBLE, by @wandasaura. — hurt/comfort.

| AGATHARIO.

✧ DON'T THEY KNOW A RABBIT CAN'T CRY, by @a-simple-imagine.

✧ OURS TOGETHER, by @lowkeyerror. — angst. hurt/comfort. familiar!R.

| CAROL DANVERS.

✧ HOME, SWEET HOME, by @imaginedanvrs. — slightly dark. definitely one of my favorite carol's fic.

| BISHOVA.

✧ CLIPPED WINGS, by @imaginedanvrs. — dark. smut.

✧ LITTLE SPARROW, by @imaginedanvrs. — dark. smut. same universe as clipped wings, and I definitely obsessed with it.

| OLIVIA BENSON X READER.

✧ HEALING HANDS, by @stayevildarling. — angst. mentions of suicide. another character i do not know, but the writing is so good that i was forced to read it.

[flowersforbucky]

this was the sweetest follow up to part one 🥹 thoughts under the cut again

Over time, his attachment to you had grown increasingly intense, and he began experiencing waves of jealousy whenever your attention was directed elsewhere. You helped around the tower a lot, so you tended to be distracted with tasks or aiding in another’s need. The soldier didn’t like it, so he began leaving his mark on you. It started subtly at first, he would rub your clothes on himself, in his mind it was good enough that you smelled like him. He saw it in a documentary once, of animals, but he had been in such a dehumanized state for so long, it made sense to him. His body’s scent on you, others would back off. That would work.

!!!!! AND ALSO THIS NEXT PARAGRAPH OMG

The possessive displays sent warmth coursing through your body, and you willingly accepted his territorial behavior. After all, you had become his sole source of comfort and security in this world, making it perfectly natural for him to want to claim you in some way - whether through his distinctive scent (you knew about him rubbing your clothes on his body) or these carefully placed marks. His need to establish this connection, to make his claim visible, he was terrified you’d be taken from him.

like i said in sugar plums... maybe i am a tiny bit messed up in the head but the thought of him so possessive and jealous over me that he feels the need to mark his territory??? i am here for it, idc, he can mark me however he needs/wants to.

You stayed by Bucky all morning, carefully observing his reactions to the bustling holiday atmosphere. It was clear he was struggling to process the overwhelming sensory experience and you didn’t blame him. The twinkling lights and shimmering tinsel to the constant chatter and laughter of the group, on top of holiday music and the smells of breakfast and baked goods from the kitchen, were surely a lot to process. His discomfort grew and you recognized the telltale signs of sensory overload in his slightly widened eyes and shallow breathing. The social expectations was clearly taking its toll.

real as FUCK christmas and holidays are so overstimulating. i can barely handle situations like this myself for more than like half an hour and then i am ready for some peace and quiet by myself. i can only imagine how bucky would feel.

The soldier's gaze slowly drifted back to his lap, his fingers lingering momentarily on the thoughtful gifts before carefully pushing the journal and elephant to rest beside him. He then leaned forward quickly, closing the distance between you and wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. The display caught you off guard, given his usual hesitance to initiate any form of contact beyond nightly cuddling or his possessive love-bites.

oh my god the gifts and his reaction were both sooo so sweet 😭😭😭 i absolutely loved alllll of this

Подарок. | W.S

summary: You give the soldier a present for Christmas.

warnings: Fluff & Angst | Winter Soldier!Bucky | Post!CA:TWS | PTSD mentions | Mention of medical treatments | Recovery | Brief talk of nightmares

a/n: Sort of unofficial part two to Sugar Plums since I had a few people asking for a part two. Same universe I guess, with some time between. Uhh probably rushed idk. To be edited later. ;; wc: 3.3k

Recovery.

Fickle, fragile, exhausting.

He gradually accepted being called Bucky, though the name stirred something uncomfortable within him each time it reached his ears. Steve, ever persistent and hopeful, would use various versions of the name - Bucky, Buck, or sometimes James - in his unwavering attempts to resurrect the friend he once knew, unable to accept that the Bucky from his memories had faded away like footprints in snow.

Winter had completely erased the old Bucky.

While these names would trigger a subtle internal struggle, he maintained an almost perfect mask of indifference, with only the slightest furrowing of his brow betraying any sign of his inner turmoil.

You, however, carefully navigated between calling him Bucky and Soldat, aware that using his old code name might reinforce programming you wished to help him break free from. Yet there was a slight relaxation in his shoulders when you used the familiar designation, the way it seemed to ease the constant tension he carried made it impossible to completely abandon - his comfort, however small, had become your priority.

Even if that comfort stemmed from a dehumanizing name.

It required negotiation and persistent discussions to convince Tony to finally allow the soldier access to the medbay wing for his necessary medical treatments. Despite the soldier's extended stay in the tower passing without any concerning incidents, Tony maintained a strong hesitation about providing medical assistance. His deeply-rooted skepticism and apparent distrust were sources of frustration for you, though you consciously chose to avoid escalating the situation into a full-blown argument, knowing it would only make matters more complicated.

You had already gotten into intense scuffles with Tony over the soldier’s stay, how he needed to be looked over, physically and internally. The dislocated arm Steve caused never healed, and he had been carrying his arm awkwardly close to his body. Other physical injuries on top of the apparent dehydration and malnourishment, he was constantly under a veil of sickness.

The situation was particularly delicate because Soldat struggled with being in the presence of the other tower residents. He was acutely aware of how everyone seemed to cautiously moderate their behavior around him, treating each interaction as if they were navigating through a minefield of potential triggers. Like they were walking along eggshells every time they were near him.

It felt like he was walking on glass.

You were his only source of comfort, though traces of caution still lingered in his demeanor. He knew you posed no threat to his wellbeing. You had been patient and gentle the entire time, regardless of his panic or prone sense to lash out if he got stressed enough.

Long nights stretched endlessly in the sterile medbay rooms, where you faithfully maintained your vigil in the uncomfortable chair positioned beside the standard-issue medical bed. The soldier’s bed remained empty, as he consistently chose to rest on the cold floor instead. Sleep was an elusive companion for him, a nightly battle he rarely won. More often than not, his rest was violently interrupted by his own terrified screams or desperate shouts, his body jerking upright with defensive movements, arms swinging at invisible threats.

You would spend countless minutes trying everything in your power to bring him back to reality and calm his frantic state. Sometimes, despite your best efforts and gentle words, the situation would escalate beyond your ability to manage, forcing the medical staff on standby to intervene with sedatives to prevent him from unintentionally causing harm during these episodes.

Luckily his recovery progressed slowly but surely, transitioning from those intensive IV treatments in the clinical environment of the medbay to the more comfortable setting of your personal quarters. His sleeping arrangements evolved as gradually as his treatment; first from the hard floor, then to the modest couch tucked against the far wall, and finally to your bed.

These days, he found his rest beside you each night, his body instinctively seeking comfort by curling close to yours, desperately trying to make up for all those decades of disturbed sleep and haunted dreams.

Over time, his attachment to you had grown increasingly intense, and he began experiencing waves of jealousy whenever your attention was directed elsewhere. You helped around the tower a lot, so you tended to be distracted with tasks or aiding in another’s need. The soldier didn’t like it, so he began leaving his mark on you. It started subtly at first, he would rub your clothes on himself, in his mind it was good enough that you smelled like him. He saw it in a documentary once, of animals, but he had been in such a dehumanized state for so long, it made sense to him. His body’s scent on you, others would back off. That would work.

But, no, it wasn’t enough.

One day, crossing an unspoken boundary between you, he started placing love bites along your skin, positioning these tender marks from your neck down to your shoulders, eventually becoming bold enough to venture lower, marking your chest with these plum bruises.

The possessive displays sent warmth coursing through your body, and you willingly accepted his territorial behavior. After all, you had become his sole source of comfort and security in this world, making it perfectly natural for him to want to claim you in some way - whether through his distinctive scent (you knew about him rubbing your clothes on his body) or these carefully placed marks. His need to establish this connection, to make his claim visible, he was terrified you’d be taken from him.

Progress was being made in your relationship.

While he was still cautious with physical contact, he had begun to allow gentle touches and brief moments of closeness, though always within carefully maintained boundaries. He was like a cat, deciding when he wanted physical attention and when he wanted it to stop. The challenge of memory recovery remained a significant hurdle in his healing process. You had to help him remember specific things, he often mixed Russian and English, or plainly forgot the simplest of words.

He couldn’t for the life of him remember what a pillow was.

When Steve would speak to him, sharing stories and memories of their past, Bucky would often find himself lost in confusion, unable to connect with the vivid recollections that Steve so enthusiastically shared. The determination in Steve's eyes was evident as he tried desperately to help his lost friend remember the bond they once shared, but for Bucky, these memories remained frustratingly out of reach.

Steve's enthusiasm was well-intentioned, but sometimes, it manifested as an overwhelming flood of information and expectations. You could sense Bucky's growing distress during these interactions, the way his shoulders would tense, how his eyes would dart anxiously around the room. The stark reality was that Bucky's memories of Steve were minimal at best, yet Steve continued to share detailed accounts of their past experiences with increasing intensity.

Your became a careful mediator, providing emotional support to Bucky while gently helping Steve understand that his passionate approach was more hindering rather than helping the delicate process of memory recovery.

Bucky would get frustrated with himself during his journey of recovery. His collection of journals became a sanctuary for his fragmented memories, filled with carefully preserved photographs (provided by Steve), detailed notes written in an unsteady hand, and hastily scrawled thoughts or recollections that would suddenly surface from the depths of his consciousness throughout all hours of the day and night. These journals became both a source of comfort and torment, evidence of his struggle to piece himself back together like a puzzle without a photo.

Even with help from you or Steve, he maintained strict control over his recovery process. He deliberately chose not to document anything that Steve mentioned or tried to convince him of, instead focusing solely on recording memories that emerged organically from within his own mind.

Having experienced decades of mental manipulation, he didn’t want anyone influencing his thoughts or memories ever again. He couldn't bring himself to simply accept Steve's version of events without questioning them, needing to verify everything through his own recollections.

You knew it hurt Steve to see Bucky this way, how he refused to listen or believe him, but you couldn’t blame the man. Either of them, really. It was delicate, it took a lot of patience on everyone’s part.

Bucky’s dedication to recovering his past manifested in sleepless marathons that would stretch on for days at a time. The soldier within him approached the task with military precision, attempting to reconstruct his shattered memories in a specific manner. Yet despite his efforts, the majority of his recollections remained disjointed and fractured, with memories of his time with HYDRA dominating his consciousness more than anything else.

While Bucky was trying to recall his elusive past, you dedicated yourself to helping him build new neural pathways and retain more recent experiences, hoping to make his daily life more manageable and give him a sense of independence. The simplest tasks had become foreign territory for him - the muscle memory and basic understanding of everyday activities having slipped away like water through cupped hands. Modern appliances like microwaves, coffee makers, or the oven had become objects that he approached with confusion.

His relationship with food had become particularly concerning. Unable to prepare proper meals, you would find him furtively consuming makeshift sandwiches, but only when he believed he could finish them before being discovered. His posture during meals was hunched, protectively positioning himself over his plate or bowl, shoveling food into his mouth at an alarming pace, his entire body tense as though preparing to defend his meal from unseen threats.

Food aggression, apparently, wasn't restrictive to just animals.

Among the numerous concerns, his recurring nightmares stood out as the most troubling and pressing issue. The frequency and intensity of these night terrors had become increasingly worrisome, regardless of how well he had progressed otherwise.

Night after night, his anguished screams would pierce the darkness, and these episodes gradually evolved into extended periods where sleep became completely impossible for him to achieve. Bucky would remain awake for days and nights at a stretch, fighting against his own exhaustion, scribbling nonsense into his journals until his body would finally surrender and he would collapse into a brief, troubled slumber.

This cycle would repeat, each time more severe than the last.

Your began looking into different methods that might help ease his troubled sleep so that Bucky could experience the simple luxury of peaceful rest. Your research led you through a wide array of options; from various herbal teas and natural sleep remedies to more conventional medical interventions. However, given his strong aversion to pharmaceutical solutions, you deliberately steered clear of medication-based approaches, knowing they would likely be met with resistance.

Over time, you discovered that a soothing routine of warm herbal tea and gentle companionship proved to be an effective remedy for his nightmares. The nightly ritual of sharing your sleeping space had become second nature, and you observed how this consistent presence brought him the comfort and stability his life lacked for seven decades. His sleep patterns were delicately intertwined with his emotional state, thus during periods of anxiety or perceived threat, his rest would become noticeably disturbed and fitful.

However, your unwavering presence served as a constant source of reassurance, creating a safe haven where he could finally find peaceful rest. Plus, it helped him regain new memories to write down and you could see how proud he was every time he recounted something from his past.

Christmas morning.

Every corner and crevice of the tower sparkled with festive décor, tinsel draped from every available surface, and twinkling lights illuminated the halls in a dazzling display. It was an extravagant winter wonderland that bordered on excessive, but that was exactly Tony's style - he approached every holiday with unbridled enthusiasm, and Christmas was undoubtedly his crowning achievement.

With his seemingly limitless resources at his disposal, there was nothing holding him back from creating the most elaborate celebrations possible.

Aka…he was rich so he could.

In contrast to Tony's lavish approach, you took a more modest approach when it came to gift-giving. The act of receiving presents always made you somewhat uncomfortable, as you found far more joy in being the one doing the giving. You selected meaningful presents for each team member, carefully considering their individual interests and preferences. You couldn't match Tony's extravagant spending (something he never failed to remind everyone of that morning), but you firmly believed that the genuine thought and personal consideration behind a gift carried far more significance than its monetary value (Tony disagrees).

Bucky perched uncomfortably at the far end of the plush couch, his posture tense and rigid while the other team members enthusiastically tore through their wrapped presents with childlike excitement. Your general annoyance with Tony's characteristic swagger and showmanship failed you this morning, a warmth spread through your chest at the genuine joy radiating from Pepper's face when she discovered the exquisite diamond ring he had carefully selected for her and presented after she freed it from the tight wrapping paper.

You stayed by Bucky all morning, carefully observing his reactions to the bustling holiday atmosphere. It was clear he was struggling to process the overwhelming sensory experience and you didn’t blame him. The twinkling lights and shimmering tinsel to the constant chatter and laughter of the group, on top of holiday music and the smells of breakfast and baked goods from the kitchen, were surely a lot to process. His discomfort grew and you recognized the telltale signs of sensory overload in his slightly widened eyes and shallow breathing. The social expectations was clearly taking its toll.

He had wanted to try, he wanted to sit down with you that morning, but he had been struggling.

Your gift pile was modest, exactly as you had requested. You insisted that presents weren't necessary, you found yourself the recipient of a generously stuffed Christmas stocking and an assortment of small, meaningful items carefully chosen by your teammates in a way that made it impossible for you to object to their kindness.

When Steve presented Bucky with a collection of carefully preserved mementos from their past, but the soldier's response wasn’t what he wanted. His eyes fixed on the items that should have sparked recognition, should have ignited memories of happier times, but instead were met with blank confusion and growing distress. You sensed the uncomfortable scene and noticed the mounting anxiety in Bucky's expression, you decided to intervene with a present you got for him.

"Here, I got this for you." You handed him a carefully wrapped bag with delicate tissue paper peeking out from the top, rustling softly with each movement. "Nothing all that special but...I figured it might be nice to have something like this." You replied gently, your voice carrying a hint of nervousness as you watched him, waiting with anticipation for him to open the gift.

Bucky held the bag tentatively, his eyes fixed on the festive baby blue packaging adorned with an intricate pattern of darker blue ornaments. The glitter-coated decorations caught the light as they spiraled across the surface of the bag. He had to blink a few times to refocus his eyes, his hand slowly reached up and grasped the white tissue paper that had been carefully arranged at the top, concealing the gift. He pulled it free, soft crinkling sounded as he removed it.

He reached into the depths of the bag, his fingers brushing against something soft before grasping it. As he drew it out, his hand revealed a charming stuffed elephant, its plush grey body soft to the touch. The toy was perfectly proportioned, with endearing fat limbs that dangled naturally from its tear-shaped body. Its oversized ears flopped gently and its trunk curved in a friendly manner that seemed to welcome embrace. The stuffed animal sat comfortably in his hands, sized just right for holding close and cuddling.

"Elephants are known for their memories, you know." You gave him a gentle, encouraging nudge, your voice soft and hopeful. "Who knows? Maybe having this elephant around will help spark some of those lost memories of yours. They say elephants never forget, after all."

Bucky turned to face you, his expression one of confusion and curiosity. His eyes held that familiar, guarded look the soldier usually carried - a careful blend of wariness and interest that never quite revealed his inner thoughts. He examined the stuffed toy with an almost childlike fascination, as if encountering one for the first time.

His flesh hand explored every detail of the plush elephant with careful attention, fingers trailing along the soft fabric. He wrapped them around the trunk, testing its flexibility, then moved to rub the floppy ears between his thumb and forefinger, then squeezing the body gently as if checking its softness.

"There's something else too." You smiled warmly, gesturing toward the bag with enthusiasm. "Go ahead, take another look." He complied, reaching in until his hand emerged clutching a brand new journal. Following the theme, the journal was decorated in a soothing light blue shade, its cover stamped with a delicately printed elephant in the center. "I noticed your other journals were getting pretty full, so I thought you might need a fresh start. This one's got plenty of space, lots of room for all those thoughts and memories you want to keep safe."

His hands gently set the items down after examining each one carefully, his eyes lingering on every detail as if trying to memorize them. Then he turned to you, his expression unreadable. "You...got these...for me." Bucky spoke slowly, each word carefully chosen, as if he was having trouble processing the simple act of kindness. "To help me remember?"

"And, the elephant will be a nice cuddle buddy for those long nights you tend to have," you explained softly, watching his reaction. "It has special infusions of lavender and bergamot oils that I picked specifically to help you sleep better. The aromatherapy might even help soothe away those bad dreams you've been having. Well, at least according to the sales clerk." You reached out and lifted the soft plush elephant, bringing it to your nose and inhaling deeply. "See? It's really calming, isn't it?"

He took the toy back and smelled it deeply, letting out a contented sigh as the aroma filled his nose and sent waves of comfort through his body, making him feel warm and fuzzy inside. He carefully lowered the elephant into his lap, treating it as if it were made of delicate porcelain. His throat tightened with emotion as he swallowed hard and looked back at you, his eyes wide with disbelief and gratitude.

"All this for me?" he whispered, his voice barely audible as he struggled to process the reality that someone would think to get him anything at all (Steve didn’t count). The concept of receiving gifts was so foreign to him, so far removed from his perception of what he deserved, that he could barely wrap his mind around it.

You thought maybe it looked sill to some people, but it was more about why you got it, not what you got him.

You nodded, offering a warm smile, "Yes...I got this just for you."

The soldier's gaze slowly drifted back to his lap, his fingers lingering momentarily on the thoughtful gifts before carefully pushing the journal and elephant to rest beside him. He then leaned forward quickly, closing the distance between you and wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. The display caught you off guard, given his usual hesitance to initiate any form of contact beyond nightly cuddling or his possessive love-bites.

After you recovered from the sudden gesture, your arms encircled him in return. You drew him closer as he nestled himself against your body, seeking comfort in your warmth and smell. It was one of the only things he could consistently rely on.

A knowing smile played across your lips as you whispered against his ear, "I take it you like it?"

"...Да."

Thanks for reading. -em 🌿

Dividers by @/strangergraphics | Images found on Pinterest.

[giuseppe-yuki]

let him cook

franco colapinto x orange cat!shapeshifter reader

w.c.: 2.1k

warnings: one (?) curse word

part of my shapeshifter!reader spinoff series

summary: a day off? well, that just means a relaxing day at home. cuddles, homemade breakfast - how can things possibly get out of hand?

picture credits from pinterest :)

honestly, life was actually going pretty good. you could tell by the way the sunlight streamed in through the glass window, filling the room with a soft glow. the birds outside that usually were obnoxious as hell now sounded quite magical the way they tweeted a cheery little tune. not only that, it felt like just the right temperature underneath the blankets and the room had that nice fresh-morning-smell to it. to top it all off, your boyfriend was slotted up next to you peacefully with an arm wrapped around your waist- just the way you liked it. 

before, franco would always be the one up first, brushing his teeth, throwing on his williams kit, chugging down his maté, and racing out the door in record time. you were left waking hours later in an empty bed with the light smell of his shampoo on his pillow before you made your way to your first lecture. but now, with your boyfriend’s four-week formula 1 fall break starting the day before, at the same time as your college’s, it's no wonder you felt completely stress free. you now had more than enough time to spend with franco, and there would be absolutely no homework assignments to be finished, random pr work to be done, quizzes to study for, and sim sessions to be completed that would distract either of you. 

so, for once in a long time, you took in what it felt like to wake up next to your boyfriend. 

you’re halfway through memorizing the way his body is pressed up behind you and the way his legs are entwined with yours when you feel his hand slightly twitch from its spot around your waist. you know he’s trying really hard to be silent, but you hear his breathy little giggles underneath his breath.

rolling your eyes, you turn over to face franco.

his eyes are closed, but a stupid little grin is plastered on his face.

“i can hear your giggles, baby. i can tell you’re awake,” you remark.

from this close, you can see beauty marks littered across his face, his mussed wavy brown locks, and incredibly long eyelashes that any girl would be jealous of. 

still, he refuses to open his eyes.

you take this chance to launch an attack of kisses on his face, until he finally breaks into giggles and pushes you off of him. 

“that was not so nice, what you did, little lady,” he states with a fake pout. “i was sleeping so nicely, dreaming of winning all my races and getting a million dollars until you woke me up so rudely!”

letting out a melodramatic gasp, you clutch your metaphorical pearls the best you can, being tucked close to franco.

“how dare i!” you exclaim. “oh, handsome sir, how could i ever show you how sorry i am?”

you see a flicker of mischievousness in franco’s eyes and the way his eyebrow quirks up for a millisecond after you finish your sentence.

“well,” he states plainly. “you can give me hea-”

almost immediately, you slap your hand around his mouth, muffling the rest of his sentence. 

“franco, you freak,” you say, laughing in disbelief. “it’s, like, 8am! i am not doing that!”

he huffs dramatically. 

“fine, i guess i’ll settle for a cuddle session.”

you almost fall asleep again in your franco-mandated cuddle session. he has his muscled arm around your waist, pulling you close to him, lightly squashing you against his side. you can smell the familiar citrusy scent that he always seems to smell like, along with the light soapy smell of detergent on his sleep shirt. one of his hands is tucked half-way into your own sleep shirt, mindlessly drawing circles and stars lightly on your soft skin. every so often, he presses a light kiss to the top of your head. a comfortable silence stretches between you both. 

your eyes are on the edge of fluttering shut when franco tilts his head to whisper into your ear. 

“baby,” he says quietly. “i think i’m going to end this session short- i want to go make some maté.”

he doesn’t even wait for you to respond before he unwinds his hand from its spot and starts scooting off the bed.

you fight the urge to sigh. if there was one thing that your boyfriend was a fein for besides cuddles, it was definitely maté. if you were to be honest, if you were to make a pie chart of things franco cared about besides racing, it would probably be, like ⅗ maté and ⅖ everything else. 

“francooooo,” you groan, dragging out the ‘o’. “it’s cold- come back!”

however, franco just laughs at your antics. 

“if you like, just shift in your cat form and you can just chill on the counter,” he suggests. 

you don’t waste a second before shifting into your orange cat form and bounding into his arms.

from your place on the kitchen counter with a blanket wrapped around you turning you into a burrito, you watch as your boyfriend brews his maté. it’s kind of mesmerising, the way he pours the maté leaves, brushes off the extra powder, and dumps a stream of hot water into the pot in one smooth move. 

once he sips his concoction, he beams at you. 

“sit there and look pretty- i’m gonna go make breakfast!”

with how skilled he was making his maté, you assume franco must be good at making breakfast too…right? 

you squirm out of your blanket and pad your way on the cold marble counter close, but not too close, to the stove that franco was standing at. it looked like he had dumped an entire bottle of cooking oil in the pan, and you were pretty sure you saw at least 3 pieces of eggshell in there. 

hmm. he definitely wasn’t a gordon ramsay. 

franco doesn’t seem to notice though, and instead turns away from the rapidly bubbling pieces of ingredients in his pan, and gestures over to the tall spices cabinet to you.

“would you mind getting the aji molido, baby?”

you nod, and bound over to the towering brown cabinet. using your paw to bat it open, you search for the chili spice. it’s on the third tier, which is no problem, because you easily bound upwards, using your claws to propel you up. once you grasp the little bottle of aji molido in your jaws, you get ready to leap down from inside the cabinet. however, franco speaks up before you are able to jump down.

“look at this!” he exclaims, and you just know he is about to do something idiotic. 

he swishes the entire pan and tries to flip the frankly, burnt eggs in midair like one of those five star chefs. of course, he wasn’t a five star chef, so the eggs just go flying in the air, and land straight on the ground.

from your birds-eye view in the cabinet, you can see the eggs splat everywhere on the ground.

you don’t even bother to hide your soft sigh as you leap back down to the kitchen counter and drop the now useless aji molido from your jaws. if you were in your human form, you likely would have shook your head and told franco off. 

your boyfriend blinks once- twice- before letting out a frown. 

“well, um, that wasn’t supposed to happen.”

after your boyfriend cleans up the rather large amount of oil and burnt, exploded egg on the ground, you herd him over to the fridge. 

it was funny- he couldn’t fry an egg but he could drive a formula one car?

you opt for him to cut up some fruit instead- there’s no way you can mess that up. 

franco seems to misunderstand your intent as he opens up the fridge, reaching for the eggs again for the top shelf. you have to hop up into the fridge and snap at his hand in order to redirect it to the strawberries on a lower shelf. 

“jeez- okay,” he complains, rolling his eyes. “dramatic much?”

unfortunately, you were wrong again. 

you had supervised his every move closely, from washing the strawberries (he dropped three into the drain) to plucking the leaves off of the top (he managed to squish five strawberries while doing so ?? ), making sure to hiss at him whenever he was doing something wrong (it was a lot of times).

it didn’t compare to when he started chopping the strawberries, though.

you had padded to the knife drawer and carefully fetched the knife for him in your canines, setting it gently next to the chopping board. he thanked you, pressing a kiss to your soft head, and picked up the knife. you clearly expected him to chop the strawberries in halves like a normal person, but instead, he started aggressively slicing them vertically, like a weirdo.

“watch this, baby!” he proclaims, waving his knife around. he then proceeds to cut a blob-looking object in the strawberry and hold it out towards you. 

you tilt your head, trying to figure out what the hell he just cut out of the poor strawberry, when he gestures at it again.

“it’s you,” he supplies helpfully. 

when you give him a blank stare, he huffs and puts it gently on top of the pile of “cut” strawberries.

you continue watching, tail twitching, as he chops energetically, making a red-stained mess on the board that not even the williams engineering team could fix. 

franco is about to make a “squiggly” slice when you hear a sharp “crack” that fills the air. you exchange looks with him.

no fucking way.

underneath his knife, the board was split in half.

at this point, you were not going to sit around in your orange cat form as he broke another appliance in the apartment. you jump off the counter and shift back into your human form, immediately snatching the knife away from your boyfriend. 

“i’ve seen enough, franco- you are not touching another appliance in the kitchen! i swear, the next time you touch something, you’re going to blow the apartment up- and i don’t think james will appreciate having one of his drivers blow up during fall break.”

with a few “pleaseee,” you reluctantly let him toast a few slices of bread in your new toaster. It was literally two steps- put the bread in, and slide down the lever- so it was theoretically impossible to screw up. 

you watch him super-carefully as he gently slides each piece of white bread into the slot. once both are correctly in, he looks over to you, for approval. seeing you nod once, he then slowly presses down the lever until it clicks. 

perfect! now, all there was to do was wait. 

you glance over to franco, who was now poking at his mountain of wildly cut strawberries (you had transferred it to a bowl). it was oddly endearing in a way, seeing him experimentally taste the girlfriend-shaped-piece-of-strawberry that he had cut out, even if he had broke your cutting board and gotten egg all over your kitchen before doing so. honestly, you know you must look like a creep, just leaning on the counter and looking at him with big doe eyes, but you couldn’t help it. he was just so…i don’t know, biteable or something. the cuteness aggression really got to you in the mornings. 

“what?” he says, a smile spreading on his face when he sees you watching him. he sets down the girlfriend shaped-piece-of-strawberry back in the bowl with a bite taken out of what looked to be your legs. “why are you looking at me like that? are you checking me out?”

“no, no, no, i wasn’t looking,” you deny vehemently, turning your head, like you didn’t just become mesmerized at the way he ate a piece of fruit that was supposed to look like you. his grin spreads wider, and he jokingly strikes a bodybuilder pose in front of you, making sure to emphasize the way his arm muscles ripple- visible even under his soft faded sleeping shirt.

like a cat drawn to a fluttering bird, your eyes move from the bowl of strawberries with the girlfriend-shaped-piece-of-strawberry at the top, and instead trail down his body as he stretches.

“i wasn’t looking, i wasn’t looking,” he parrots in a teasing tone when he feels your gaze on him.

you roll your eyes, ‘hmph’-ing. 

whatever.

you’re about to shoot back a remark, when your eyes grow very wide. 

behind franco, your toaster was on fire. 

one fire extinguisher, two very burnt pieces of toast, and a completely wrecked toaster later, you collapse on the couch. you weren't even sure how franco had managed to do that.

he eyes you wearily from his place on the soft cushions where you sent him to sit at in order to prevent anything else from spontaneously combusting. 

“you’re indefinitely prohibited from the kitchen,” you rasp, rubbing your face exhaustedly. your entire front is covered in fire extinguisher foam. you 

he nods forlornly, sipping the other thing he didn’t mess up- his maté. 

“oh yes, one more thing,” you add. you shove a box of cereal in his lap. “breakfast.”

taglist: @ilivbullyingjeongin@ale-522@formula1-motogpfan@aceyalonso@my0hmary

@russellbby@madkohi@rakshatos@heartsforleclerc@papaya-twinks

@ellelabelle

[the-new-kiddo-on-the-block]

So...

Am I the only one who noticed that Luigi Mangione is absolutely, 100%, without a shadow of a doubt, not the same guy who shot up the United Healthcare CEO, Brian Thompson?

Like, was I the only one paying attention to the fact that the guy had cleaned up eyebrows that were either tweezed and or threaded? And as someone who used to regularly thread their eyebrows, that hair does not grow back within a week, let alone five days. It takes a full month or better before it gets back to hairy bushiness.

Not to mention, the original shooter did not have a green jacket on, no no, I'm pretty sure that jacket was either heather gray or black (idk, the lighting at that moment made it hard to tell). But it was definitely not green.

This kid they have got locked up, Luigi Mangione-- he's a Fall Guy. He's not the one they're looking for. Sorry peeps, as much as he's an Italian heartthrob... Well, he's not the one everyone she be looking for..

And if that's not enough, how about his spinal injury?

Spondylolisthesis, to be precise?

And how he got a botched spinal fusion surgery, in an attempt to fix it?

Do you genuinely think that man would be even remotely comfortable enough to attempt to ride to the place of the crime, or to get away after, on a city bike, without being in some incredibly excruciating pain??

I'm sorry.

That man is innocent until proven guilty, under the constitutional fifth amendment, under due process of law:

"No person shall be held to answer for a capital, or otherwise infamous crime, unless on a presentment or indictment of a Grand Jury, except in cases arising in the land or naval forces, or in the Militia, when in actual service in time of War or public danger; nor shall any person be subject for the same offence to be twice put in jeopardy of life or limb; nor shall be compelled in any criminal case to be a witness against himself, nor be deprived of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor shall private property be taken for public use, without just compensation." -5th Amendment, the United States Constitution.

[lucifermorningstxr]

Chloe's comfort was not only welcome, but it was well-received in the wake of all that they'd been through. Lucifer had long blamed himself for any and all the bad that had befallen them, because he'd only ever seen himself as evil incarnate, but his human was helping him to see the light, ironic as it was. "Right... you know, I'm starting to see it now indeed. It doesn't make it easier though, nor does it excuse my actions after the fact." Dr. Martin and her yammering about accountability were finally sinking in. "I never meant to hurt you, Detective. I brought Candy back with me so she could help keep track of my mother, as per our deal. I mean, yes, in part, I was trying to move on from you because I thought it'd keep you safe, but in doing so, all I did was hurt you more. And for that, I am deeply sorry, Detective."

The reaction Chloe had to Lucifer's heartfelt confessions was akin to the most divine warmth he'd ever felt in his eons. He was so happy to have it all out there and that his human agreed! Albeit, she had stipulations, but he agreed with her on those counts too. He kissed her back and nodded with a relieved, reassured smile. "Absolutely! I don't want anyone getting between us again, Detective. It's for the best. And besides, maybe it'll be spicy to sneak around." He smirked suggestively, holding her close to him. "Not that I wouldn't shout it from the rooftops the second the moment arose."

Chloe's mention of Pierce, while it wasn't ever a pleasant topic of conversation, was reassuring in itself, made all the sweeter since the bastard was in Hell where he belonged. Still, Lucifer replied with the sensitivity required to handle her heart on the matter. "Right. I should've stayed for the coffee. In retrospect, it was the worst bachelorette party ever. Totally not worth it. Anyway, I suppose we've both been trying to move on from one another for so long, getting ourselves into these situations... for what? I'd have to say Pierce was far more dangerous than Eve or dearly harmless Candy, but still. We're right where we're supposed to be now." He punctuates the line with a warm, deep kiss.

"But it's so bloody adorable! I can't help myself!" Lucifer relaxes his finger, jesting with Chloe as he settles his hand back on her. With a sly smirk and a wriggle of his brow, he guided her face back to his gently, his hand on her cheek. "I hear you! You want your silver-tongued Devil in a different way. Far be it from me to refuse such a deliciously appealing offer, Detective." He laughed softly before leaning in, planting his lips on her once more. Each kiss more electric than the last, this is truly where the pair belonged.

Hearing that Chloe hadn't hated Lucifer at all throughout the last nine months was maybe the most healing thing he'd heard in a long time, and that was saying a ton since this entire night had been incredibly cathartic for him. He'd known about his behaviour two years ago and had long made up for it, but as of late, he'd thought there was no real reconciliation, so it felt like Heaven on Earth to hear that from his human. "Right, well, you have no idea how that makes me feel. At the risk of being far too sappy once more, I'll simply say thank you, Detective. And in turn, I'd like you to know I could never hate you. I can be hurt, I can be upset, but I can never hate you. Far from it. I..." He cleared his throat and turned his attention to Chloe's inquiry about Candy. He hadn't told her about that yet? Well, here it goes. "Yes! Well, partially. I met her at a club where she'd picked my wallet and lifted my ring to pay debts on said club inherited from her father. I was impressed with her skills, although nobody steals from the Devil. So, I met with her privately to discuss our issues, and we agreed to help one another. I'd pay off her debts if she married me and agreed to keep tabs on my mother. It was a mutual agreement, but an agreement... a deal... nonetheless." Lucifer tucked Chloe's hair behind her ear before adding one last line. "Oh, and by the way, the only reason I ran off to Vegas is because you nearly died, and I blamed myself because it was my fault. So, I thought I was protecting you by leaving. Anyway, I couldn't stop talking about you with Candy the entire time. That's the foundation on which we built our deal. There you have it. The whole story."

"Yes, I want to be with you, Detective. Only you, with no sharing on either side. I'm not quite sure if you picked up on it, but I bloody hated Pierce besides the Cain thing, because he had you and I didn't. I hate any guy who has you instead of me. I'd tell you to ask Dr. Martin, but that'd probably be in violation of some confidentiality laws. So, ask anyway." He smirked. "Seriously, I want you, Detective, and I don't dare what we're doing. Watching Buffy here, playing the piano there, solving crimes anywhere... I just want to be with you, Detective. That is my truest desire."

"We can do whatever it is that you desire." Lucifer smirked once again, booking Chloe's nose playfully. "As long as we're together, I'd do literally anything. And that's the Dad-honest truth."

[bambisnc]

illuminate [or, new year's eve kisses w riize]

pairing : ot7 x reader genre : fluff/crack cw/tw : drinking mention + kissing wc : 0.8k

shotaro : "planning to kiss at midnight but not being able to because there's Too Much Happening so ending up kissing after everything's over in the early hours of the morning"

imagine the 2 of you being the hosts of the party and it being rather .. chaotic, to say the least. i'm talking someone screaming, someone tripping n falling down, someone just. drunk outta their mind the second midnight strikes 😀 ... leaving you to sort the Many, many conflicts occurring. you and taro would find yourself alone w each other only at like maybe 5 am the next day and he'd be the absolute sweetest ever; would kiss your forehead softly, n thank you for being "so, so perfect f'me" as the soft morning light streams in. even if the moment wouldn't be picture perfect you wouldn't really want it any other way <3

eunseok : "pretending to be a couple at a new year's eve party and kissing to drive home the point"

you can pry fake dating w eunseok out of my cold dead hands. anyway. the setting can vary; it could be childhood friend!seok dating you to avoid awkward and way too intrusive questions from relatives you haven't even seen for like 10 years, or academic rival!seok and you dating at some official/academic party to idk flex on haters? etc. but the ending would mostly be along the lines of someone trying to flirt w you/him bc they don't really think you two of all people could Actually be dating so you end up kissing on impulse (and lowkey bc of peer pressure) but the kiss kinda ends up .. lasting way too long for it to just be fake? :/

sungchan : "partner yapping and making a scene (for example if they're like drunk out of their mind) right before midnight and you having to kiss them to shut them up"

what do i even say man .. there's always gonna be this one guy who talks just a tad bit too much and lowkey causes a scene >.< the only difference is that this time it'll just so happen to be your cutie patootie bf. honestly he might just lowkey be playing it up for your attention which obviously you don't mind giving him <3 and when you inevitably end up cupping his face in your hands and softly pressing your lips against his, he'll only smile and be more than willing to shut up for you because well .. it's you!

wonbin : "them pulling off a whole entire gesture flawlessly and kissing you as their grand finale"

let us go back down for a minute to our (my) roots straight into one of the Most disney things i can think of. performing in public to confess feelings/love to the person you like <3 imagine wonbin performing a whole ahh song and dedicating it to you at a party he organized (which is also mainly only for you) because why would he be lowkey when he can be grand n dramatic about it? of course if you're not comfortable he wouldn't like Announce it to everyone and draw unwanted attention to you 😭😭 but still let you know via means of his subtle gestures <3 and obviously you kiss him when he, (slightly out of breath), w all the earnestness of the world asks if "you liked it my love?"

seunghan : "classic fireworks kiss"

he deserves the softest fluffiest trope for sure. i see him kinda dragging you away from the other people at whatever get together/gathering you're at to take you to a quieter spot, a balcony perhaps or just a nice window with a good view of earlier mentioned fireworks. would tell you how much he loves you (probably even give u a littol gift,, for example, matching rings ...) and kiss you right after. it'd happen right as the fireworks set off and if someone was to take a picture it would literally top charts on uh pinterest idk? you get what i mean - it'd be perfect.

sohee : "kissing as a soft launch"

bbg deserves the fluffiest trope x2 i feel like it wouldn't just be an impulsive thing; you both would have a rough, basic idea of wanting some way to show off each other <3 and what better time to do that than with the start of the new year? so right after the countdown, when midnight strikes, you'd kiss. and at first people wouldn't even really pay attention but then someone would be like "wait a minute......." and you guys would kinda just chill there holding hands, lowkey giggling. menaces, really; but at least you guys are cute ...

anton : "who're you kissing at midnight"

yk the whole wanting to kiss your partner who you're dating in secret but still not wanting your relationship to be out in the open so you end up pulling some strings and (nicely) manipulating your friends to kiss e/o platonically so you can pass off you and your partner's kiss as just part of that (courtesy to popular sitcom friends s5, ep11). i'm thinking a little kiss on the cheek, and looking at e/o lovingly (.. sappy much ...) and none of your friends/family/whoever being any wiser because it's just a platonic thing right? :D if anyone was to look Closely though, your jig would be over SO fast trust .. >.<

notes : happy 2025 to those who celebrate !!! was nawt planning on writing for riize ong. but. erm. idk its ab to be one year of this acc and they're the group i started out writing for so i couldn't not + also these're my FAVORITE ot7 pics ever btw + [m.list] song rec : illumination - andteam <3

𐙚 . regulars : @x0llaz @nicholasluvbot ⋆

[dollfacefantasy]

im shaking begging on my hands on knees pls if that’s okay and you’re comfortable with it could you cook some tongue sucking and spit play with Leon like absolutely sloppy messy nasty 🤲🤲🤲🤲🤲🤲

it was a mistake telling leon that you'd never been kissed.

you'd been going out with the d.s.o agent for a few weeks now, and last friday night on another one of your dates you let that little not-so-fun fact about you slip. in your defense, you were a bit tipsy, and the buzz of alcohol dulled the points on your decision making skills.

"wait really?" he'd asked after a small laugh. he leaned forward, forearms pressing down on the white table cloth. "never been kissed? not even once?"

"well... one time sorta in third grade. but i don't count that," you amended.

that only made his smile wider. "wow, i thought you were cute before, sweetheart, but this just takes it to another level," he chuckled.

you felt your cheeks starting to burn, realizing that you may have made a mistake in disclosing this part of your past. it wasn't like you were totally innocent or something. you'd just never found someone you felt deserved to experience your lips against theirs.

he didn't continue to mock though. he just shook his head and eyed you over the brim of his glass.

"i'll have to change that then," he said.

that night as he dropped you at your apartment he acted on his words. before letting you leave the proximity of his car, he guided you close and pecked your lips. something soft and sweet. intimate but simple. your first real kiss.

it would be far from the last if he had anything to say about it though.

tonight he came over to your place to spend some time with you before an upcoming mission. the two of you laid on the couch, bodies intertwined. he had you tucked to his chest as a movie played on the tv in the background. his eyes stayed on you though.

his fingers ran down your cheek along the curve of your jaw. you could feel him staring and finally gave in, turning your head to smile at him.

"what?" you said with a small laugh.

"nothing," he replied, "am i not allowed to admire you?"

he leaned in and pressed his lips to your cheekbone. one soft kiss landed on your skin and then another and another until his mouth reached your neck.

you giggled softly and squirmed beside him. he grinned against your throat, not letting up on his affection. his hand squeezed your waist. you felt his tongue slide out and glide across your pulse point before his lips latched on again.

"you know, baby... i've been thinking about kissing you again ever since last friday," he breathed.

"really?" you whispered in return.

"mhm. couldn't get you out of my head. even more than normal," he said, "those lips are just so soft and sweet. one kiss wasn't enough."

he began moving back up, cresting his lips over your chin to below your bottom lip.

"it wasn't enough for me either," you agreed, getting the words out while you still could.

in seconds, his lips landed on yours. this kiss was deeper than the last, more sensual and full of intention. he suckled on your bottom lip, scraping his teeth against the plush skin. his nose bumped yours. you could feel the soft puffs of his breaths on your face.

"of course it wasn't. that was just your first taste. it's only natural you'd want more," he murmured between smooches, "but i'm gonna give it to you. make up for all that time you went without."

his mouth connected with yours in full again, drawing a quiet moan from you. your fingers ran through his blonde tresses. he shuddered at the feeling of your fingers raking over his scalp.

it was weird. kissing him felt effortless and like something you needed to be conscious of at the same time. you melted into his movements and let him guide you, but you also thought about every detail from how much you were responding to the tender sighs slipping from your lips.

your breath hitched when you felt the tip of his tongue drag across the seam of your mouth. you didn't really know what to do, so you just went with your first instinct and parted your lips slightly.

"that's it, honey, let me in," he cooed before sliding the wet muscle into your mouth.

that got a louder sound out of you. he cupped your cheek and worked it in, swirling it with your own. the kisses got messier now. your head spun with the bliss of being so wrapped up in him.

he sucked at your tongue, and your legs squirmed in response. you didn't expect it to feel so nice. it was almost soothing in a way, to have him so intensely focused on you. the hand that wasn't on your cheek squeezed your hip, teasing at his want for more.

when he finally pulled away, a smile broke out on his face.

"look at you," he crooned, "you liked that, didn't you?"

all you could do was nod while staring up at him. your eyes were blown out with lust, your chest heaving with the same emotion.

his thumb came up to your wet bottom lip. the pad of it stroked back and forth, pressing down and opening your mouth a little. so cute.

"messy girl," he purred.

and then, without warning, he gathered some spit at the front of his mouth and parted his lips to let it fall into yours.

your body lit on fire at the sight and sensation. you felt the liquid hit your tongue and slide towards your throat. a soft moan made its way out of you before you lazily swatted at his arm.

"leon!" you whined, sticking out your lip into a pout, "ew."

he laughed at the simple reaction before ducking down to swap more spit with you. he kissed you deep and hard, twirling his tongue through your mouth languidly.

"that'll be the least 'ew' thing i do to you before tonight's over," he teased before sweeping you up in another passionate exchange.

[lostinthewronguniverse]

So, while I understand your reasoning, I do find it flawed. While many people in the US do not like their boss or the police, they do prefer to lick the boots of their bosses and police when told or when things get rough. I am not discounting myself in this

When a homeless person is making someone uncomfortable, by far the majority of people would be more comfortable with calling the cops on them than allow them to sleep by a bus stop or beg in a walkway. White right wing people who don’t trust the police are still happy to call them when black people are hanging around chatting for “too long”. If an autistic teen walks towards your fence to look at a flower, way too many people would call the cops on him. While in reality many people in the US hate cops for one reason or another, the sentiment is still there that we love cops as soon as things get hard, and it is a small portion of people who would actually call out cops like during George Floyd’s death. Most people would have walked by figuring that he probably deserved it because no matter how much we say acab at the end of the day we tend to trust them more than the person whose rights they’re violating

Now, bosses we practically never stand up to because we’re too scared to lose our jobs. We may acknowledge that they’re power hungry and deliberately target a single person and make 2x+ our income for half the work and whatnot, but when we are talking to them, we hardly say anything. If we see someone being targeted, then we might try to cheer them up after but you hardly ever see someone push back against the harassment. In private, we’re even more likely to agree with the boss that they do so much for the company or so-and-so performs poorly. We keep kissing ass in the hopes of a raise or promotion and we get nothing. Then, we go behind the boss’s back and complain about how horrible they are while not doing anything to change it. This is the reason why so often unions are unable to form or people can be singled out because no one wants to receive the boss’s ire and we’re told that we can’t move ahead with others but we can move up on our own. Once again, the sentiment is there that no matter how much we hate our bosses we treat them like we love them

Actions speak louder than words. While you’ve lived in more states than I have, you have only taken people’s words at face value and not looked at their actions. I have a friend who is constantly fighting for social justice that absolutely calls the police every time she sees a a tent in the local park and I had an old coworker who repeatedly talked about how toxic our boss was that also said he was her mentor and inspiration when he got team lunch for her promotion. The people you know who talk the talk and walk the walk are the minority. Regardless of if OP is from the US or not, they understand the people here better than you, a native.

P.S. I do find it funny all the people who pretend like they hold the will of the revolutionaries from 1776. 1) All those people were racists who wanted to steal Native American land and 2) They weren’t afraid to suffer for a bit without something like Starbucks or cheap factory farmed meat and fast fashion. Do you know how hard it would have been to boycott England? And, if you broke the boycott then you could have been killed by a mob as a loyalist instead of just needing to cross a picket line

[witch-and-her-witcher]

2024 Fic Writer End of Year Roundup

Answer and then tag three or more creators to keep the game going! Thank you to everyone who tagged me and have had me in their inspo sections, I adore each and every one of you!

1. How many words did you publish on AO3 in 2024?

518,691 (hoping to add another 3-4k to this before midnight hehe)

I CANNOT drop that number without thanking the fucking dream team who has read EVERY SINGLE PUBLISHED WORD of mine: @popjunkie42 and @climbthemountain2020. From cheerleading, to pumping the breaks when my run ons be running, I appreciate the ever-loving hell out of both of you. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

Honorable mention betas who hold up that number: @cauldronblssd, @wilde-knight, @thesistersarcheron, and @rosanna-writer. I truly appreciate every one of you babes and your critical, brilliant eyes on my self indulgent streams of thought.

2. How many fics did you complete this year?

21! 13 of those were one shots.

If I can be real, I have two multi-chapter WIPs sitting in my docs, but it felt too irresponsible to post those once I started getting buried in grad school.

3. How many in progress or ongoing fics did you start this year?

Heading into the new year, I have 2 in progress fics: Ruin Me for the Fourth Wing fandom and Who's Gonna Know You Like Me? for ACOTAR.

4. What was your favorite thing you wrote?

Any of my poly fics! I really have to thank @acourtofladydeath for her beautiful brain child @polyacotarweek for getting me into the poly mind set. Although I only wrote throuples for that week (and since aside from the background Nesta/Eris/Azriel/Cassian in Who's Gonna Know You Like Me?), I am interested in writing more complex poly pairings in 2025.

I also can't leave out @yanny-77, @copperfirebird and @hockeyspiral23 for supporting the violaiden obsession! I adore writing the three of them together so so much and it's so fun to have others to share the brain rot with!

5. What piece was your most experimental or different from your usual style?

I had never done a true canon rewrite before dripping in gold! It was so so fun taking an in text scene and making it queer as hell.

6. Did any fics surprise you - either while writing or their reception?

It's undeniable that A Court of Chaos and Darkness's reception took me by surprise. From the moment I couldn't shake the concept of the fic to the over one hundred kudos it received before I took it off of anon. But even more so, the absolute comfort blanket this fic was as I wrote it was shocking. Something in the healing occurring, in the recognition of the complexity of parenting and the messiness of the parent/child relationship really struck me.

The fic @revenge??? I love you filthy azris lovers. This was an outlet for some of my dating app blunders and shenanigans and you all really said "serve."

And then there's my first omegaverse fic and the first of it's kind in the Fourth Wing ao3 tag (when it was posted, I believe there's several more now!): so what now? The Fourth Wing fandom has been warm as hell and so inviting to me, but you have all really embraced me bringing weird into the tags and I just can't thank you enough as I gape at the stats.

7. Do you have a fic you wrote and loved that went under the radar? (This is your sign to reblog/repost it!)

Either of my sapphic fics: dripping in gold (genderbent feysand) and lunch. (morlain ft the mommy kink tag!)

8. Who is an artist that inspired you?

There are so, so many talented artists that inspire me! @thrumugnyr, @copypastus , @queercontrarian and @lucychanart have been my muses for all things Tamlin. @climbthemountain2020 and @wilde-knight are triple threats and their art brings me such joy! There's also @dustjacketdraws that always has primo Cassian and Nesta vibes!

9. Who is an author that inspired you?

There are SO many. First and foremost, my babe @popjunkie42. I love you, my muse. Something about reading your writing and just chatting with you inspires all of my ideas to flow. @asnowfern is another muse and writer I can always turn to for inspiration, we were just recalling her Turning Darkness Into Light elucien spooktober fic that tickles my imagination so much among her other works!

I'm inspired and impressed endlessly by @climbthemountain2020 ability to flawlessly produce well developed, gorgeously vivid stories.

@highlordofkrypton, @missfckingfortune and @beesays inspire me constantly with their raw talent and skill and for the first two, the hot and steamy smut they can turn out. @jules-writes-stories inspires me with her OC work and beautifully layered plots (Mithras, my toxic love.) @c-e-d-dreamer inspires me with her fun AU worlds, but also with her fearlessness to tackle toxic relationships - @secret-third-thing is in this same boat as well as @iftheshoef1tz, @foundress0fnothing, and of course the OGs @thesistersarcheron, @whisperingmidnights, @separatist-apologist and @the-lonelybarricade.

There are so many more of you. I love this community and the inspiration that flows all around your creative, galaxy brained minds.

10. Who is a new author you discovered?

SO many, but those I haven't mentioned yet who are so so talented (but not limited to this list): @dusk-muse, @chairofchaos, @shadowsandlint, @xxvalkyriesxx, @fourteentrout, and @littedidyouknow.

11. Did you do any collaborations? How did it start?

None this year, but the idea is fun!

12. What accomplishments are you proudest of?

Could You Love Me While I Hate Myself is my proudest accomplishment this year by far. I always told myself I couldn't: write OCs, write a longfic, or write a fic that would ever break the UNBELIEVABLE stats this fic has done. I proved myself wrong on every front.

Thank you so much to @asnowfern, @popjunkie42 and @wilde-knight for seeing me through this capstone fic and for believing in me and helping me see myself in a totally different light.

13. What did you learn about writing or creating this year?

Be as silly and self-indulgent as possible.

If you have a killer idea/dialogue line/etc - WRITE IT DOWN. YOU WILL NOT REMEMBER IT LATER.

14. What is your advice?

Surround yourself with people who make you feel like you can accomplish anything and you will never fail because there they will be, gassing you up flop or not.

I love you, harem. Writing is so fun BECAUSE of you. <3

15. What are your creative goals for 2025?

Continuing to eat, serve and let the haters drown in it.

[everyonewooeverywhere]

hiiii!! i know i've been a bit inactive the past couple of weeks, but since we're nearing the end of the year, i really just wanted to express how appreciative i am of how much love this blog has gotten in the passed year.

i posted my first fic here almost a year ago now in one of the loneliest points of my life. i've struggled at school to make friends, my roomate and i weren't really clicking at the time, and all of my closest friends had been away at schools in other states while i stayed home. i was struggling. a lot.

and when i started this blog i had only ever intended for it to be a place where i read fics and moved on. i never intended to write anything, and i wasn't even an atiny at the time. no part of me intended to start writing or sharing it with anybody. but then out of no where i did. and despite how nervous i was to post that first fic, i can't imagine how my life would look now if i hadn't (as crazy as it sounds to say).

all of you have truly been so wonderful to me. this blog has fully become such a safe space for me. i've learned so much about myself. and i've met so many truly wonderful people. and i just want you all to know how incredibly grateful i am for all of you. and i hope you'll stick around for what the new year has in store 💗

and i know i can't personally cover everybody, but i do have a couple people i wanna thank directly:

@shinyj3lly & @bigboymoozz : thank you for feeling comfortable enough with me to always drop your thought in my inbox 🙏 even though i lowkey suck at responding sometimes, i promise i read and love every single one

@strawbshrtcks @linearities @autieofthevalley @crimsonbubble @yuyusbabygirl @vampzity & @minkieater : i know that now matter what i post, at least four of you are gonna reblog it, and it'll always make me smile. you truly fill up my notifs and i'm so fucking grateful. and ty for the top tier reaction pics.

@desirehorizon : thank you for always matching my freak. but also just thank you for being here. i always appreciate your presence on my dash and in my notifs so so much (even if drunk dee happens to make their appearance)

@gxredxll : idk what to say other than thank you for being here. you've been with me here since the beginning and i hope you know how much i cherish you.

@hwaslayer : genuinely one of my favorite writers on this site. and probably half the reason i'm yunho-biased. love you nikki and i promise to catch up on the space between us three soon~

@vesvosmozhno : ik we haven't been moots for long, but i need you to know your reblogs always make me chuckle. and you're just generally a blessing to have on my dash.

@kitten4sannie @pirateprincessblog @wwooyology & @honeyhotteoks : i was a fan of yalls writing well before we became mutuals, so just thank you for always being a blessing on my dash. (and being the reason i gasp with joy whenever i see a post of yours).

@beenbaanbuun : bunnyyyy, thank you for honestly just existing. you are just a wonderful person, and it's been so wonderful to be your friend for these past several months. thank you for being my crochet buddy and sharing you projects with me, i absolutely love seeing your work. and thank you for protecting my secret identity~ love you so so much.

@coffee-addict-kitten : god kiki i know we're always so sappy towards each other, but i just always feel the need to remind you how much you mean to me. we crossed the line from tumblr mutuals to very close friends a while ago, and i truly love you so much. and i hope you know that.

and to anyone who's every left a sweet message or even just come by and said hi, thank you all so much. ik this is super sappy, but that's really just the kind of person i am. so thank you for sharing this space with me 💗

[andro-dino]

a very eloquent breakdown on my thoughts and feelings about various icebound dynamics I think about a lot bc I love them and I miss them and if I keep these in my head for too long I will blow up:

this one I think is pretty simple. the whole party genuinely means everything to me they r THE family every and make me sob and cry and throw up constantly with how much I love them.

when it comes to ships, I DO NOT FUCK AROUND ABOUT SKRAISY AND JORQUEEN they r seriously everything to me, and then for barnabos skrimm and taishen, I just think they’re silly. all of them have their own moments together at separate parts that I came to each of these conclusions separately.

For a more in depth breakdown of those bc I really like them actually:

Barnabos and skrimm are pretty self explanatory I think. Those two are incredibly endearing together, both in the sillier moments but also just work together really well as a serious relationship and their dynamic is just so so good

Barnabos and Taishen are like, tooth-rottingly cute and I think it’s a crime that they aren’t more popular as a ship. I think barnabos’ maturity and protectiveness combined with taishen’s naivety and sweetness just make for a really cute dynamic and their duo moments together make me smile every time without fail

Skrimm and Taishen are like, the least serious one I have of the three. there is obviously the whole “pumped up” bit that was actually like insane, but they’ve had a couple moments throughout pretty much the whole series that have just made me have my eye on them for a while. I do not know how functional they would actually be together but I like to think that they both at the very least acknowledge that they find the other attractive and refuse to think about it any harder for both of their own sakes

Do not ask me how many times the term “queenie and skrimm/taishen bestieism” has come up in my priv livetweets of icebound (the answer is a lot). seriously like queenie’s friendships with both of them r everything to me they are just so insanely endearing. I like how skrimm and queenie absolutely bring out the worst (best) in each other and are just absolute rapscallions together every time, and I just like queenie and Taishen!!! like I don’t have the full words to put to their dynamic but I love them and I love that they r best friends and love and support each other always I LOVE THEM!!!!

These guys also mean everything to me. Queenie and her boyfriend and her best friend!!! That timestamp is a clip that just shows off the absolute silliness of these three together. I am so obsessed with jornir’s obvious favoritism for queenie and just how much he loves and cares about her and trusts in her and her abilities but is so insanely concerned for her safety and prioritizes it above all else, meanwhile emphasizing how incredibly much he does NOT trust in skrimm or his abilities and how he is there only to help queenie and nothing else. it’s genuinely really hilarious and I love them sm. Jornir and skrimm in general are just really hilarious but when you juxtapose it with jorqueen it’s just that infinitely better. I think also queenie and skrimm’s aforementioned duo dynamic and how insanely silly they are with each other, combined with jornir’s jornirness is also just such a funny dynamic and I love it very much

I dont really know how to elaborate on how much I love them together like you either get it or you don’t. Queenie and her boyfriend and her best friend part 2!!! They r such a comfort trio for me just bc I really like the idea of them all bluetooth syncing to each other and just understanding each other and communicating really well. Also this came to me last night but yk that one tiktok that’s like “‘doesn’t matter what you think, a different gender best friend is a red flag’? I’m sorry Emily, we can’t be friends anymore. and tell your boyfriend I fuckin hate him too”. that’s them to me. (Side note I cannot find this tiktok fucking ANYWHERE now??? it existed at one point I swear)

yeag. that about sums it up I think. queenie’s protective instincts for everyone around her all the time in general make me sob but when it comes to her and Daisy I am genuinely gonna blow up a building about it I love them so much. the way she so instantly jumps to take care of her after honey’s passing and how insanely protective she is over her and is constantly looking out for her I’m just like ooughhhhhhhhh my god. they make me sob I love them dearly

these could’ve been separate images but i didn’t feel like making more separate images lmao

Jornir and barnabos as a duo are really great I love remembering that these guys are like actually awesome and really cool like genuinely. Both of them have different qualities to them that make them so good when they step up into leadership positions for the party and I just think they’re both absolute fucking badasses when they really wanna be and I love when they come together and maximize their joint slay it’s really great.

When it comes to both of them with Daisy, I have the same feeling about it which is oughhhhhhhh my god I love them. Again both of them being some of the coolest and most mature members of the party when they really wanna be really comes out with both of their individual dynamics with Daisy and I just really love how they both take up such a protective and supportive role with her. They r so. I dare say fatherly. I just oughhh I love them I love them lots.

[senualothbrok]

Happy new year, Tumblr family 💜🫂

Wishing you all joy and love this 2025. If 2024 was a rough one for you, I hope things only get better from here. And if they don't, I wish you the resilience and inner peace to weather the storms. Everything passes, and I hope they pass as quickly as possible.

Thank you so much for being here 🫶🏻 814 of you may be reading this and I am overwhelmingly grateful for your support and interest. Thank you for every time you have reached out and shared a part of yourself, encouraged me and my work. It means the world to me - and earlier this year, when things were at rock bottom, they saved me. I am so grateful for all the wonderful people that I have met through this fandom, it is one of the real blessings of my life, and I hope to continue to meet more of you. Thank you so much. 🫂

In terms of my work in 2025, I'll still be here, adoring (/obsessing about) Gale, reblogging and supporting other creators, and pouring out my unhinged and hyperfixated thoughts. I am, however, trying to work on a new novel so that's where I'll be putting most of my time and energy when it comes to writing. I just wanted to be honest, so you are aware if there is a drop in the frequency of fics. (But then again, I have tried to move away from Gale fics many times to work on original fiction, and here I am, a year later, with a considerable portfolio of Gale angst, romance and smut 😅🤣 just giving you full disclosure anyway).

On a more personal note, 2024 was an absolute shit show of a year for me, and it's only in the last couple of weeks that I've felt the skies have cleared a bit, and I've felt "more myself", and a bit of hope about the future. Obviously, this is a Gale blog, and though I sometimes share bits and pieces of my life, I don't know if anyone would be interested in more personal updates / essays. I don't struggle being vulnerable and open, and if this would be something that would be of interest or potentially give healing/hope/comfort to anyone out there, please let me know.

Here's to 2025, everyone. From the bottom of my heart, I wish you well. 🔮

By @inglorionamy-ammy

By @mahiiimahiiii

Picrew here