#but NOW finally gettin on my inbox

[a-s-levynn]

Answering to you all, while sobbing like there is no tomorrow and

"My mind is hidden from itself I can't remember anything My past in pieces, I'm afraid and I don't know what I am And I don't know where to turn But I'll learn I'll learn"

is in my ear at full volume is a surprisingly uplifting and frankly.. soulclensing experience.

[tomatoswup]

Hey yall!!!! just comin’ in to saaayyy that requests are going to temporarily CLOSE!

Of course I’ll be finishing up the requests I currently have in my inbox but I’ve really been wanting to put out unfinished content I’ve had in my drafts for a while now!

Kinda like a spring cleanup of my drafts that’s now hitting 40 drafts😭😭😭 I’m also gonna redesign my masterlist and add all the requests i’ve done on there to make it easier☝️

I’ll also be planning my 100 follower special🫶🥹 but im trying to map out how to work it and hopefully I could make it fun for everyone!!!

Thank yall for the support and thank you for reading my lil mess of writing 🥹 love yaallllll

[reds-writings]

sunday kind of love

(pairing: rust cohle x fem!reader)

a/n: finally a bit of pure fun and fluff! this kinda applies to the jealousy, jealousy universe but it can totally be read as a standalone! requests are open so hit my inbox if you so choose! enjoy!

word count: 1.3k ish (a lil treat)

warnings: light cursing but not much else! the ending felt kinda weak so i apologize for that lol (minors begone!)

“Y’know…today is supposed to be one of rest…given that it’s a Sunday n’ all. Just in case you might’ve forgotten.” You remarked in your half-drowsy state, your porch swing swaying idly as you lay draped across it like some lazy house cat. 

The day had you hotter than a sinner in church. The sun sat high and bright in the sky, certainly having no mercy on all the melting folk of Louisiana. Even the breeze that had the old wind chimes you’d hung up ages ago tinkling idly in its gusts was relentless in temperature, offering no aid to your sickeningly sticky skin. With the way you’d been running the AC and numerous plugged-in fans in your house over the past few days, you were sure to rack up one nasty-looking electric bill in due time. Even with all that operating nearly 24/7 it hadn’t made much of a difference in the old rickety house. You’d give just about anything right now if it meant not being so grossly miserable and sweaty in all the worst places. 

The only reason you weren’t inside the slightly cooler haven that was your home was because of a certain pigheaded man who decided today would be the day he busied himself with fixing up your lawn. How ridiculous. One offhand mention of the front yard being a little unruly and your flowers looking a bit lackluster had Rust up and working as if you were Pavlov and he the infamous dog. There was no fighting him when he set his mind on something so you assigned yourself the role of making sure he didn’t drop dead from heat exhaustion like a fool. 

“I’m serious, Rustin. We should head on inside. Ain’t no need to get all of this done today.” You called out again, tipping your head to the side and looking over your sunglasses to see that he had now moved on from getting all the lawn clippings into a trash bag to planting some new flowers he claimed would thrive during the season. The way the muscles under the tan skin of his arms moved and the look of utter focus painted on his handsome features had you smiling something horrendously lovesick. Despite his bullish nature, you knew this was just one of his many underlying ways of showing that he cared for you. Loved you even. You could say that now after certain admissions had been made some nights ago and you found yourself no less giddy after the fact as you thought on it what had to be a million times over at this point. 

Some Linda Rondstat tune played from the old radio that sat propped up on the porch’s railing, causing your bare feet to tap in tandem with the country star’s divine voice. Rust continued to work in silence as you started humming, sitting up to then swing your legs off the bench’s edge. 

You flipped your sunglasses to lay stationary at the top of your head, “I’m feelin’ awfully neglected right now, darlin’.”

That had him finally snorting, “I’m sure you’ll live.” 

“You don’t know that. If I were to keel over right this minute cause a certain cowboy won’t give me the time of day, I bet you there’d be some sorta scientific explanation behind it and it’d have you feelin’ just awful. Gutted even, I’m tellin’ you.” You wagged a finger at him as you went on your theatrical tangent. You saw him shaking his head, continuing to work as if that could hide his growing smile from you. 

“You find this funny but I’m bein’ dead serious. I’ve got one of the most handsomest men in Louisiana on my lawn and he’s too busy diggin’ holes in my garden. Those flowers are gettin’ more felt up than your poor girl over here and that don’t sit quite right with me-”

“Quit it, woman.” He cut in with feigned exasperation though you knew such outward declarations of flirting made by you had him more than a bit flustered. You could live out this whole scene forever if you could. It might’ve been hotter than hell but the landscape was lush and beautiful. The weeping willow taking up a good amount of space on the front of your property danced in the light afternoon wind. The sunlight was hitting everything just right and it had you grateful to call this all yours. The man opposing you only added to the fuzzy feeling dancing in your veins. Snapping out of your sappy thoughts of admiration you saw Rust finally get up from his position and make way towards the garden hose.

You huffed out a dramatic sigh as you forced yourself up and made your way down the weathered porch steps. He stood over the new thatch of colorful flora, thumb half over the hose’s nozzle to spray down his hard work of the day. 

“If I quit it then just how else am I supposed to bug you with my affections?”

“I couldn’t tell ya. Shame that is.” He drawled, seemingly amused with feeding into your impatient antics.

Eyes squinting at him, you tried to fight the quirking of your lips as you ambled on over closer to him. 

“You must got some hidden thing for the works of sadism, mister. Leavin’ me hangin’ for hours on end with no-” You nearly shrieked at the sudden cold of the hose’s stream being flicked at you. The offendant stood opposite of you, too smug for your liking as he took in your half-soaked form. The old tank top and denim cutoffs you had on already left little to the imagination prior to his attack, you could only imagine the form of indecency you found yourself in now. 

“Oh, that’s it. C’mere you little- HEY!” You screeched as the cold spray hit you again. The momentum with which you charged at him had water flying between you both when he got you again. You wrestled each other for the hose, causing more than enough of a mess in the process. The joy in your laughter had Rust’s chest squeezing almost painfully. The stretch of his grin felt foreign to him but he couldn’t manage to control himself. 

As you made numerous attempts to jump up and snatch the tubing from his grip you overestimated your step and slipped on the newly muddied grass, causing you both to topple over. Your belly ached from how hard you found yourself laughing. You almost felt like a child again, drenched beyond belief with streaks of mud and grass finding a new home on your body. A few deep rumbles sounded from the depths of Rust’s broad chest as he pushed some of the sopping-wet hair from your face, looking at you as if you were the only thing in the world that made sense to him. As if you were all the answers to his universe wrapped up into one person. The intensity had you knocking his chin with your knuckles softly and wiping some water from his face. 

“You’re an ass, y’know that?”

“And you’re one sore loser.” 

“Loser?! I’ll have you know I managed to take your lanky ass down in one fell swoop-” 

You were silenced by the sudden press of his kiss. It was hard to reciprocate as you felt yourself smiling harder but he persisted despite the clumsiness of it all. Moments like these were something you’d never take for granted. Any chance to see the man in front of you free of all of his persistent burdens, even if just for a moment, were times you could hold on to forever. You felt nothing short of lucky that he let you in. That you were able to cross paths and choose each other in this life. 

You had a feeling there were probably other lifetimes in which you danced this similar dance as different people or different beings. Destined to always find your way back to each other come hell or high water.  Damn. Rust's daily cosmic ramblings and otherworldy mumbo jumbo were starting to really get to you.

Though you couldn't help but wonder if he happened to feel it too.

a/n: late night post but we love silliness and laughter! as always feedback is greatly appreciated! hopefully, this wasn't too ooc!

[coldresolve]

okay life got tough and i finally had the time now to catch up on new updates but oh god- im ready for the scalpel fight with davin, especially after the newest chapters this is exactly what I've been waiting for; him in stressful situations, i want to see how much he actually insured everything what kind of backup does he have, how is he really when he has to come up with solutions on the spot and more of him fighting, the facade slipping as he has enough of renee, him having to be the one to ask for help from shaun again and... god conrad's inner dillema, not exactly feeling vengeance yet but enough for already have his guilt eating him up, immobilizing him and his mind (please make him suffer from hypotermia and i will willingly go to your basement im a sucker for this one please) the parallels between conrad and renee so similar yet so different and yet the same under the mercy of pain.

okay and my token caring woman imani, i love her yes please give me the guilt, i'm ascending, the fight for conrad but him unable to do anything just ahhh- i'm so exicted for next chapters

sorry for rumbling so much, i sometimes want to dissect moneymakers word by word. good luck on next chapters

asdlkj thank u!! dont apologize for rambling, gettin essays in my inbox always gives serotonin ngl. i love reading ppls thoughts

alas i gotta be honest, hypothermia isnt on the table this late in the game. but ive already hinted heavily at the pneumonia thing being back (cough, never really leaving) so i hope that'll suffice hehe. theres room in the basement regardless, no worries, im always in need of more kidneys to sell

hope u have more time to chill man :>

[estellaxstellastories]

**🌧️ Jin: Silent Tears 🌧️**

The terminal buzzed with the usual rush of people hurrying to catch their flights. Laughter, hurried conversations, and the rolling of suitcases filled the air, but all Jin could hear was the deafening silence between the two of you. His hand, once warm and comforting in yours, now felt cold, his grip loose as if he were already slipping away.

The announcement for his flight rang out, but neither of you moved. You could feel the tears burning behind your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Not here, not now. This was supposed to be a temporary goodbye—just a few months while he traveled for work. But deep down, you knew this felt different.

"Don’t look at me like that," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. Jin’s eyes were glassy, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he tried to be strong for you. But you saw right through him. The cracks were showing.

"How should I look at you then?" you managed to choke out, trying to match his attempt at levity. But the words tasted bitter, and the smile you forced didn’t reach your eyes.

He cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin tenderly. "Like you’ll see me soon."

The dam you had carefully constructed began to break, a single tear escaping before you could stop it. You blinked rapidly, trying to compose yourself, but it was too late. Silent tears began to trail down your face, each one falling harder than the last. Jin’s face softened, his own eyes betraying him as they shimmered with unshed tears.

"Jin, what if..." you couldn’t finish the thought. The fear of losing him for real, of this being the last time you’d ever see him, choked the words in your throat.

Jin pulled you into his arms, holding you close, as if he could shield you from the harsh reality of the world. His heartbeat was strong against your ear, but it did little to soothe the ache in your chest.

"You’ll see me soon," he repeated, more to himself than to you. "I promise."

But promises were just words, and the cold truth was that you couldn’t be sure. As the final boarding call echoed through the terminal, Jin reluctantly pulled away. His hand lingered on your cheek for just a moment longer before he stepped back.

With a final, fleeting glance, Jin turned and walked toward the gate. You stood frozen, watching as he disappeared into the crowd. The tears fell freely now, your silent sobs echoing in your chest as the reality of his absence began to sink in.

The loudspeaker announced the departure of his flight, and with it, the finality of the moment settled over you. Jin was gone, and all that was left were the silent tears and the hope that his promise wouldn’t be another broken one.

------------------------------------------------- Okayyy soo that was my first EVER story here on tumblr, im not hella good at it yet but yk im gettin the hang of it and only gonna get better and better. Enjoy reading it mh's!!!🫶🏾.

WARNINGS: Angst: Heavy emotional content dealing with themes of separation and heartbreak.

Mentions of Fear/Uncertainty: References to anxiety about the future and fear of loss.

Tear-jerker: May evoke strong emotions or sadness.

{[inbox me for requests either on here or instagram, @_Whoise is where i mainly be at ml's🤍!!]}/ And btw my pfp drawing is not mine, idk the @ name but it was son pontes so all credit goes to the artist😭

[elfstuck]

Gettin the Band Back Together

Finally watching the Homestuck Recap and trying to catch up. (It is 8pm on Apr 13 for me, as I write this. I want to post something for Homestuck Day that's not just 'hey I am aware it's Homestuck Day.') I have not given up on this blog, but as you can see, it is not at the top of my "do this now" priority lists.

(Since I last did serious blogging here, I have created two (tiny) solo TTRPGs, watched BNHA and Untamed and read ridiculous amounts of fic for both, and gotten a Real Job. With. Like. Union benefits. Also my father died in the early Covid era (not of Covid) and this made the whole lockdown thing much easier to handle because I had no interest in being social for at least six months after that.) (And every week, my Google calender says "Reminder: Homestuck liveblogging!" which has served as a weird touchstone for normality throughout the hellscape years.)

GENERAL NOTES: I want ZERO SPOILERS. NONE. I have a friend (@chibipaw) to help me by reading my inbox, but that just means "she will delete stuff that has spoilers" and I won't see it. I have a broad definition of spoilers. Like. I do not want to hear "oh you'll see that one again" or "wait'll you see what happens when they meet." I was not happy to be told that the people chatting with Our Protagonists were the trolls I'd heard so much about. Don't assume "everyone knows that"; I have managed to block out an incredible amount of knowledge about this fandom.

I am here for the tentabulges. Eventually. I will be reading all the depraved fic. Eventually. I ship them all. Eventually.

…I may ship them all before eventually.

Lemme see if I got this:

It's John's 13th birthday. It has been John's 13th birthday for longer than John has been alive.

His neighborhood got blown up. But he's safe (…for some values of "safe") in the Medium, where things are weird.

Kernelsprites. More than one of them.

Rose is playing with the server version of Sburb

Dave is arguing with trolls

Jade is doing something with a dreamscape something or other

Wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey

Wayward Vagabond yay

Midnight crew. Midnight crew song. (Not actually part of the story.) (I want Midnight Crew song fanfic.)

Prospit. Derse. Multiple peoples with the same initials in different settings.

Chess war something (I have kinda stopped paying attention to the recap.)

Multiple strange worlds: Land of Wind and Shade; Land of Light and Rain; Land of Heat & Clockwork, all of which I want custom dragons for. This is complexified by the fact that Flight Rising expanded its color scheme while I was reading Homestuck, and also there are now swarms of new dragon types so I will have to rethink my plans for LOWAS and LOHAC dragons. I don't think I've seen Jade's realm yet.

Trolls with initials that are all "lower case letter followed by capital letter," with meanings that maybe attach to zodiac signs. (PLZ NO SPOILERS I already know too much.)

Flash has died but I have the Unofficial Homestuck Collection and also there's something kinda-sorta like Flash support in Firefox now although I may not have all the features I used in the past.

I have lost both my place in the story and my awareness of context so WHO CARES HERE WE GO.

…Is this too long? Should I bump the actual liveblogging to next post? Should I put it under a read-more tag? I have lost all sense of how I normally pace these things.

gC gives John (eB) a map. An FL4 map. Because that was a thing when Homestuck was written. FL4 files are no longer viable ways to give information. However, given what I know of HS trolls, that would not prevent them from using it.

(Huh my HSLB folder already has a "Google LOWAS.png" file which means this is probably ground I have already covered. Oh well.)

GOOGLE LOWAS

John goes to gate on top of mountain, sees pretty swirly colors that are LOLAR, and crashes into Rose's room. Talks to Dave on Rose's computer.

…Yeah, this looks familiar. Huh.

Look this is the last pic from my regular liveblogging days:

if someone could give me a link for that page, I'd be grateful. In the meantime, I'll go through from where I am and try to catch up. I probably backed up some deliberately but I am now entirely lost.

John is chatting with two Daves. One in orange. One in red. There are timeline issues. I think.

John goes poking through Rose's room. (The wone with MEOWMEOWMEOW all over the walls. Rose: Not the sane one.) He grabs some books with his captchalogue. Or into his sylladex. Dammit, I have forgotten the terminology attached to my favorite feature of this game. Story. Webcomic. Whateverthefuck this is.

Gets the codes from the books.

…and then we're back to… Dave in Derse? Dave and Rose in Derse? Back to John, getting his birthday gift from Rose: some kind of purple-black stuffed rabbit. More bunnies in boxes for John. John is happy with all the bunnies in boxes.

(Huh I already had a 'Chaos Dunk' image too, but not the animated gif. Apparently years of ignoring this have not changed my ideas about which images are interesting & worth sharing.)

This section has NEW RELEVANCE since I am now into Untamed fandom and gifts of rabbits are emotionally meaningful in ways that they were not when I started reading Homestuck. If John loves receiving bunnies, does that make him a Hanguang-Jun analogue? I will have to explore this idea.

John leaves a salamander for Rose in thanks.

There are pesterlog conversations of which I understand almost nothing. Timey-wimey shenanigans. Gonna hope I can pick up the gist of it later because I am not rereading the whole damn thing up to now to get context for these, which I kind of had before but have long lost.

There is a jam session with Dave and Rose in Derse, with 5 musical options. These are selectable by having Dave press buttons. Or by clicking on them directly in the new app.

These open in separate tabs in the Homestuck Collection. Right. The other reason to work my way through Homestuck: The music is awesome.

Of these, I like Derse Dreamers best.

Huh. the Collection and the website have DIFFERENT CONTENT wtf. Website: Page 1720. Altered from the original - the sound button is at the top because Flash support is now all wonky. Fine. But the second picture here isn't in the collection. (I am fine with this. I don't like the second picture. But it means, sigh, I really will be needing to go back and forth between the Collection app & the website. Ghah.)

Plz throw thoughts at me so I will be inspired to keep doing this.

Only. Not spoilery thoughts. Please.

[lets-talk-spirituality]

“You’re always there so don’t overthink”

Sorry I’m struggling with this one,. I always thought grapejuice was a love song to wine haha

Could you do a deeper analysis

Grapejuice analysis

Yesterday, it finally came, a sunny afternoon

What came? A sunny afternoon… good weather, positive mood, warmth, joy

I was on my way to buy some flowers for you (ooh) Thought that we could hide away in a corner of the heath

Okay he’s in a good mood and wants to share it, do something sweet and thoughtful

There's never been someone who's so perfect for me But I got over it and I said "Give me somethin' old and red" I pay for it more than I did back then

So he’s never felt better but he wants to go back to something old, something that hurts him to go back to, something he pays for, he got over feeling like someone’s perfect for him, why? To go back to pain,

hmm two interpretations, one is this happy go lucky daydream world he lives in with the you he buys flowers for and now he’s going back to what he’s comfortable with… reality, “while he plays pretend” back to playing pretend,

that or he’s met someone new but he goes back to what he knows, old and red, something that has been established and he pays for it, what? Waiting on this person, sabotaging new connections because of this one he’s waiting for, the idealization and excitement about someone new and he just “got over it”

There's just no gettin' through Without you A bottle of rouge Just me and you

Getting through what? Playing pretend? He needs alcohol to deal with being away from them, does he feel them with him when he’s drinking wine?

Sittin' in the garden, I'm a couple glasses in, I was tryna count up all the places we've been, You're always there, so don't overthink, I'm so over whites and pinks

If they’re always there with him, then they’ve been all the places he has. He’s saying I’m over lighter and sweeter wines, I want something with more body, flavor, time. To me it’s him saying, I’m ready for the real thing, I want a deep relationship, not casual easy things, you’re always with me so don’t worry or think about the other stuff, what you see, I’m over that anyway, nothing to be worried about

The grape juice blues

He’s feeling sad and lonely and he’s drinking and thinking about love, he’s thinking about what he wants

Now sure maybe it is about wine, totally, from a 3D level, but from a higher perspective it’s basically him saying you’ve always been with me, I don’t want anyone else, I’m waiting, I’m ready.

Y’all behave in my inbox if you ever want me to interpret his lyrics again.

[kraptos]

Alright- the idea of AOS as one of Odin's disguises all along is down right horrifying for poor Kratos; imagine the violation he must've felt from every chapter with that angst 😰😰😰

Almost similar to Furies' illusions of Lysandra to get their way with Kratos in Ascension; except Odin succeeded and exploited Kratos' vulnerability as AOS.

He would have put a rift between Kratos and Atreus long ago if he not use Týr. Kratos would definitely give him the Zeus treatment after that revelation >:(

Now I imagined Odin had the real AOS imprisoned just like the real Týr in post Ragnarök. Seems logical that he was able to pull it off, but uhhh- I figured it would make things too complicated considering the full contexts I've gotten lol xD

At least Kratos can finally reunite with the real deal so yayyy- happy ending i guess?

Also, I wasn't able to read your reply from my previous ask. idk why but either I deleted my accidental comment or something. Still getting used with Tumblr ^^

Just wanted give out my lil thoughts in your inbox lol

YEAHHHHH… i wasn’t 100% committed to it before ragnarok came out, but i was DEF tempted to go with it. one of my reasons was that i just couldn’t picture how kratos and little atreus would even begin to react to that sort of reveal. another was that it felt cheap to have built up an entire novel about their relationship/developing AOS as a p complex character just to have him not even be real. the twist with tyr in GOWR just sealed the deal that i wouldn’t go that route because i couldn’t LOL

but maaan… idk. it would have been SO messed up if i had been able & decided to LMAO but like you said, it would have definitely complicated things, and now AOS gets to run around and get a little traumatized with everyone else ahahaha

sorry about the reply, that was my fault!!! i was on mobile and deleted it right after posting because i thought it hadn’t actually @’d you. i guess it did, oops 😅 i meant to reply again from my pc last night when i got back from work, but i fell asleep 😔

my reply was just me was just saying how relieved i was to see the tyr twist in the game because it made the decision about AOS’s fate for me! thanks for sending me your thoughts they are v good & always welcome in my inbox!!! i love gettin to read them :D

[ibis-gt]

a conclusion to the teeny cam storyline, but definitely not the last time i’ll draw teeny cam, he’s too cute i’m gonna come back to him eventually

[00gangfriend00]

hi girlie I have a nsfw prompt for YA: is that my shirt?

thx boo 😘

omg anon, i was just about to dive deep into my inbox for old prompts and you blessed me with a new & juicy one!!

I hope you like it!!

There's a lot about her new place that he likes. Closer to downtown. He got money, yah, but he ain't made of it. Gas prices weren't exactly going down these days. He doesn't have to catch Car-man cheesin' up at him from a frame in his peripheral while he's hittin' it. That's a surefire way to kill the mood, and he'd live happily ever after if he didn't have to see that ugly mug again.

There's something else too.. something not quite as easy to put his finger on. It's the way she showed up for a meeting with her forearms streaked in yellow paint, frantically explaining the must-haves of an 'accent wall'.

Or how he walked in on her once, piss drunk, scrubbing red hair dye into her scalp over the bathroom sink. (A small red stain still under lingers the faucet.)

The place smells different - like flowers and whiskey.

It's bigger too. More place for her shit, hers. Not just the kids. Suits her.

Maybe he's gettin' soft - fatherhood and old age will do that he's been told - But sometimes when high, or pleasantly drunk, his mind wanders back to those tear-stained cheeks paired with determined blue eyes, that mouthy suburban mama he tried to rob. How she’s changed. 

Her attitude still a problem, that's for damn sure, but hell if it hasn't grown on him.

It was still the same woman that dropped those pearls on his door. He knew then that she could burn this whole city to the ground if she wanted to –

He just had to make sure she was on his side when it happened.

She’d finally chosen him. Well, not him exactly –they weren’t together, just casual. Scratchin' an itch.

But she'd chosen him all the same. The power. The partnership. He hated to admit just how good It felt. Wouldn’t let himself consider that he’d been waiting on this, putting it all on the line for this.

Guess he just like bein’ right about her. 

Once a boss bitch, always a boss bitch. Now she just got the lifestyle to match.

--

It's a little past midnight when he pulls up. He punches the code in ( apartment- living making it a bit harder to just drop in. She didn't give him the code, nah. That's not their style. But she does enter it slowly and deliberately whenever they walk in together. It didn't take him long to piece it together.) and heads up to the fifteenth floor.

Her apartment's warm, the scent of banana bread wafting from a still-warm oven. The lights are off, and the formless shape of leggings are strewn across a yoga mat in the sitting room.

Elizabeth is in bed, but still awake. He can see her open eyes illuminated in the moonlight as her body stirs.

“Hey.” He breaks the silence. A little sheepish.

“Hi.” She's girlish in her response. They grin at each other as he pulls his shirt up over his head and climbs under the covers.

Her naked body is warm, her arms inviting him closer. His sigh of relief fills the quiet room.

Elizabeth giggles into his chest. "I thought our meeting was cancelled today?"

"Mmm. Plans changed."

"Oh yah?"

He mouths at her breasts. "Mhm. That ok with you councilwoman?"

Her fingers stroke circles at the base of his skull.

"I'll allow it."

He bites her playfully on the shoulder. "What else you allowin' tonigh-..This my shirt?"

A black tee is unearthed from the mix of sheets. Clearly not Beth's, or a woman’s for that matter.'

Beth starts laughing. "No, that's ...." She obstructs slightly her face in the pillow between them, bracing herself for what’s to come. "Phil's".

Phil's some sadsack she'd swiped right on a couple weeks ago. Happy with a 'friends with benefits' arrangement, they'd had a couple drinks and downloaded some dating apps. There was no shortage of middle-aged divorced dudes waiting to get their paws on local political royalty, and Rio wasn't easily threatened. Fuck it, let the lady have her soccer dads.

"Phil! My man! Made it all the way to the 15th floor, huh? "

She's groaning through laughter beneath him.

"Dont.."

"What'd ol' Phil get up to down here. Lil bit of this?" He moves his hands down her thighs, ghosting her center. She's wet. "Phil get you hot?"

She's squirming now, flushed.

He puts his lips against the shell of her ear.

"He make you cum?"

"Rio..." Her voice a weak warning.

He chuckles, a little cruel. "You think about me when he was sweatin' on top of you? bet you did, huh?"

'You're arrogant." But shes biting back a smile.

"Arrogant or... accurate. I know you." He guides her hands down to where his erection strains against his boxers.

She locks eyes with him, making his cock twitch.

"Phil... came over Tuesday. He didn't .. stay."

Tuesday. Tuesday. Tuesday, Beth had showed up at the bar near closing. Swaying from clearly having had a few, she'd motioned for him to come outside, where she proceeded to get down on her knees for him in the alley outback. It was fucking fantastic. It was.. shit. Tuesday.

He's rock hard now, yanking his cock free and pushing into her with a groan.

[bakusquad-assemble]

hiya lol could you write a bakugou x reader and (they're dating already) and he's just being soft for her and cuddling in his dorm and he starts tickling her and she's screaming n stuff so the class rush in and are totally not expecting to see bakugou practically sat on reader and tickling her, lol no pressure obvs lol

Ahhhh thank you so so much for the request,lovely!! I really enjoyed writing this one so I hope you like it! Soft boy Bakugou has my whole heart! I’m very slowly making my way through my request inbox, but feel free to send me more prompts to get the creative juices flowin!

Bakugou Katsuki was never one to show affection so openly like his other classmates would with their significant others. He was a reserved person, and the idea of PDA had always embarrassed him. So when the two of you had started dating, you were very aware of how he reacted to being touched, and respected him enough to never poke or prod in public. What took you by surprise though, was how different he was in your private company. The once prickly and standoffish boy couldn’t keep his hands off of you. At first it was jarring, his warm arms around you feeling so foreign and new, but you couldn’t help but relish in it. Sometimes you even found yourself teasing the poor touch deprived boy to see how much he needed your body against his. It was cruel, sure, but also incredibly validating to have Bakugou huff and puff until you paid attention to him. Today was one of those days.

Bakugou made his way to your dorm room after class as he did everyday, his textbooks from class slung over his shoulder in his book bag, fully intent to study and spend some quality time with you. Just being in your presence always had a calming effect on the explosive boy, so he found himself drawn to you every chance he got. He knocked once on your door before letting himself in, tossing his bag to the floor and locking his crimson eyes onto your form. You were already sitting at your desk, head buried in your book and head nestled in the palm of your hand. You made no movement in his direction, instead keeping your eyes glued to the pages before you.

“Hey, Suki.” You smiled softly at his presence, earning a grunt in return. He threw himself onto your bed, looking over at you longingly but still said nothing as he pulled out his own papers and got to work. The two of you sat in silence for a bit, a smirk ever present on your face. You could feel the boy's frustration radiating off his body and knew that it would only be a matter of time before he got sick of the lack of contact. Bakugou cleared his throat and you lifted your head ever so slightly.

“You okay? You need some water or something?” You teased, finally turning to look at him over your shoulder. He was looking at you with furrowed brows, a light flush spread across his cheeks.

“why the fuck are you still sitting over there?” He asked, trying his best not to sound desperate, but a little seeped through. You could’ve melted on the spot from his tone.

“I’m doing my work.” You stated plainly, turning your back to him once more to hide your smile. You could hear him growl at your response.

“Yeah no shit dumbass, but why are you doing it over there? You don’t want to spend time with me or somethin?” He tried his best to look anywhere but you, feeling the embarrassment overtake him. You could hear the distress in his voice and you couldn’t help but let out the laugh you’ve been stifling. He was so needy and you loved it. You put down your pen on the desk and turned completely in your chair, finally facing your red faced boyfriend.

“the fuck you laughing at?” He looked confused, trying to flesh out the meaning of your behavior.

“Aw what’s the matter, Katsuki? Does someone need attention?” You teased again, your head cocked to the side toyingly. You saw his demeanor change immediately. The once confused expression was replaced with a devious grin as realization hit him like a ton of bricks. You were fucking with him.

“Oh, you little shit!” Bakugou jumped off of his place on the bed and rushed at you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you from the chair roughly. You couldn’t stop the loud scream that escaped your mouth, echoing throughout the room and cascading down the hallway of the dorms.

“Tryin to mess with me, huh?” He snickered into your ear, holding you against his body tightly as you tried to fight against his hold. Laughter bubbled out of your throat as Bakugou picked you up with ease, slinging you over his shoulder and making his way back to his previous spot in the room. Despite your kicking and playful fighting, Bakugou’s grip on you barely wavered. He slammed your body down onto the bed and climbed on top of you, a shit eating grin plastered on his face.

“Well now I’m gonna make you pay for that.” His voice was sinister, dangerous, and you had no doubt that he meant business. Panic washed over you, and your fighting against the blondes grip got more frantic.

“No no no!” You laughed nervously, the sound mimicking that of a person in immediate danger, a scream of terror, but you were smiling and so was your boyfriend.

“Too late, you made me mad and now you’ve got to pay for it.” He let his hands live on your hips for a second, relishing in the feeling of your presence, before digging his calloused fingers into the sides of your body. Bakugou’s tickles were vicious, but there was still a certain softness to his hands. He let them roam your body, feeling every curve and smooth expanse of skin. His laugh cascaded around you like snow flurries, beautiful but bitting. To everyone but you, the sound was devious, Filled with malicious intent, but you knew better. So you laughed too. You laughed so hard that you could barely breathe.

“S-stop! Stop please, it hurts!” You felt your lungs burning, your chest tightening uncomfortably as Bakugou’s tickles only got more intense. You let out another scream, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you tried to fight off the strong blonde boy on top of you. It was no use though, he easily overpowered you in your current state. You thought about using your quirk to get him off of you, but honestly you didn’t really want him to stop. You loved feeling his hands wander your body, feeling his hot breath against the crook of your neck. It was intoxicating.

“In your dreams, y/n! You’re fucking dead!” You screamed once again, this time much louder, cowering from the anticipation of his punishment, but it never came. Instead you heard your door swing open, hitting the wall with some force. Both of you jumped at the sudden noise, and the sudden appearance of some familiar faces standing on high alert in your doorway. Bakugou made no motion to move from on top of you, instead shooting a dangerous glare towards the four idiots that had just made their appearance, their voices ringing in his ears like gunfire.

“Y/n?? Are you okay?” Mina’s voice echoed throughout the room immediately

“We heard screaming! Is everyone alright?” Kirishima spoke up next, his voice laced with obvious concern. The four figures froze in the doorway as they took in the actuality of the scene, a blush fighting its way fervently up Bakugou’s neck. Kaminari and Sero attempted to stifle their laughter, but to no avail.

“Oh ho ho, shit!” Looks like we had the wrong idea!” Kaminari snickered, bumping Sero in the side with his elbow.

“Damn, you two sure do have a weird way of gettin it on!” Sero chuckled, causing Kaminari to laugh even harder.

“Come on man, don’t kink shame them!” Kaminari’s stupid voice had Bakugou seething with rage.

“DON'T YOU FUCKERS KNOW HOW TO KNOCK?” Bakugou’s voice bellowed throughout the room, causing you to wince just from sheer proximity. Your face was a light shade of pink from being found in a compromising position, but Bakugou’s was fire engine red. Kirishima shifted awkwardly in his spot, bumping Kaminari hard in an attempt to get him to stop laughing.

“We’re sorry, Bro! It just...sounded like Y/n needed help! that’s all! We were all chilling in Mina’s room down the hall and heard her screaming!” Kirishima pleaded apologetically, clearly shaken that he had overstepped in such a personal way for the angry blonde. The last thing he ever wanted to do was make his best friend angry or uncomfortable.

“JUST GET OUT BEFORE I KILL EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU!” Bakugou yelled again, this time effectively stifling the laughter coming from Kaminari and Sero. Mina let out a soft giggle, ushering the terrified boys out of the room in one swift motion, feigning confidence to hide her own fear of being blown to bits.

“Alright guys, nothin’ to see here! I think we should give these two love birds their privacy.” You could feel Bakugou growl softly at her words, causing you to chuckle into your hand. Mina gave you a wink and a flirty little wave as she closed the door behind her, leaving you and Bakugou alone once more. Bakugou quickly took a pillow from your bed and chucked it at the door as it closed as hard as he could, making contact with a loud thud and earning a screech of terror from the other side of the door.

There was a moment of silence between the two of you before laughter cascaded from your lips. Bakugou looked back at you with wild eyes, clearly confused by the sudden noise of happiness.

“The fuck are you laughing about now?” You shook your head and wiped your eyes before looking back at him, a smile ever present on your face.

“It’s just...of course they had to barge in like that! They never cease to amaze me. ” You let your smile fade slightly as your hand reached out to caress his cheek. He hesitated for a second before allowing his form to melt into your touch.

“I’m sorry, Katsuki. Are you okay? I know you don’t like letting people see you like that. ” Your soft voice enveloped him, causing him to nod ever so slightly into your hand.

“M’fine. Those dumbasses just get under my fucking skin.” You let out a soft laugh, nodding with him.

“I mean, at least we know they’d come save me if I was ever being murdered.” Bakugou let an exhale of breath from his nose, the corners of his lips upturning ever so slightly.

“I’d get there first.” His confident tone was masked with warmth, a tone you recognized all too well. It was the same tone he talked in when he talked about your future together. It was filled with love. You rolled your eyes, but you still let the smile rest on your lips. You pulled Bakugou down next to you, keeping your eyes locked onto his crimson ones.

“ I know you would.” You whispered before bringing your lips to meet his in a loving kiss. It was short-lived contact, but still sent a shiver up Bakugou’s spine. He never expected to fall in love, never once imagined he’d let himself be so vulnerable in front of another human, but there was something about you that broke him down. Every single wall he had made that he believed to be impenetrable, you demolished with a single kind and understanding smile. And while Bakugou never imagined himself falling in love, he had unequivocally and irrevocably, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. He pulled you in close to his chest, letting you rest your head there as he let himself savour the gentle sounds of your breath. He ran his hands through your hair gently as he felt you speak up once more, the words escaping your mouth causing a surge of pride to rush through the blonde boy's body.

“you’re my hero, after all.”

[astralaffairs]

concept: first lady mc reads of fotp!tjeff’s speeches and edits them for all the things she thinks are stupid or unethical. and he’s like “sweetheart, my party isn’t ready for universal healthcare. i can’t be pissing people off within the first month of my presidency.” but she couldn’t give a fuck and continues marking up his speeches with a red pen all while insisting he gets a new speech writer.

y'all need 2 STOP hitting me w concepts i like this much i have 0 self control and WILL write every damn one of them. there are like 4 sitting in my inbox rn smh.

(by which i mean pls keep sending me concepts like this i love writing fotp drabbles)

---

"What're you still doin' up?"

Y/N's eyebrows shot up as she looked up; a small, tired smile graced her lips as Thomas entered their bedroom, shaking his blazer off as the door fell shut behind him. "Hey. I'm glad you're back," she said softly. "I've just been tying up a few final loose ends with what I've been working on before I go to sleep."

"Can it wait until the morning?" he asked. He laid his blazer on the back of a chair at the side of the room before immediately starting to loosen his tie. "It's gettin' late. And I miss spendin' time with you. You work too much."

She scoffed, but her smile was only growing at his words. "Did you, the President of the United States, just tell me that I work too much?" He rolled his eyes as she spoke, just discarding his tie on the floor beside their bed. "That really is rich coming from you."

"Yeah, yeah, make fun all you want," he said, crossing the room to join her on their couch, "but you always overwork yourself, and you know it. You've been doin' it for as long as I've known you."

"Alright, I'll come to bed in a few minutes." He took a seat behind her, and when he rested his hand on her inner thigh, it sent shivers rippling across her skin. She looked up. "You go get some sleep. I'll finish this quickly. I promise."

"What're you workin' on, anyway?" She didn't protest when he withdrew the paper from her lap, glancing over it, and the corners of his lips quirked up. "Is this the address I'm givin' on Friday?"

"The very same."

"You shouldn't be losin' sleep over this," he said matter-of-factly, turning his head back toward her as he squeezed the top of her thigh lightly. "Either lose sleep spendin' time with your dear, sweet husband who's fucking sick of thinkin' about legislation, or just come to bed, hm?"

He passed her back the paper, instead looping an arm around her waist as he kicked his legs up onto their coffee table, and when he pulled her in to rest against his shoulder, she put up no protest.

"Just five more minutes. I promise." The barely-concealed yawn in her voice made Thomas look down at her skeptically.

"Alright, but I'm holdin' you to that. If you're still working in five minutes, I'll carry you to bed myself."

"No complaints here." She turned her head to kiss the corner of his mouth gently before she turned back to her paper, fidgeting with her red pen as she reached the last page of the document. Thomas's eyes had fallen shut; he was more than content to just sit there with her until she finished, as he had no desire whatsoever to think anymore about pushing his healthcare bill through Congress.

He opened his eyes when Y/N scoffed. Her pen ran down the page in a long slash, and she was pursing her lips as she jotted notes in the margins, but it made Thomas furrow his brow.

"Hey, now, what was so wrong with that paragraph?"

"Seriously?" She raised a skeptical eyebrow, glancing back at him. "You keep treating healthcare like it's some privilege that poor people should have to grovel at the feet of the rich to have access to. It can't be conditional like this."

"I'm not actin' like that," he defended. "I'm just sayin', hiking up taxes threefold isn't a sustainable way to fund this. It'd be an overreach from Congress. We've gotta use money efficiently."

"You fucking libertarian," she muttered. "The part of the bill about work requirements is gonna get killed in Congress. There's no way the House Democrats will vote to pass it unless you get rid of that."

"What's that got to do with my speech?"

"You're misrepresenting the legislation if you keep that paragraph," she said, proceeding to scribble out a sentence in the paragraph after. "And get rid of this. If you're trying to implement a public option, focusing on the private sector will get you nowhere. You're just gonna make people angry."

"I'm not 'misrepresenting' anything." He scowled. "Both those things are important for the bill."

"But this isn't a bill, Thomas; it's a speech," she huffed. "Anyway, the legislation needs to be universalized, or you can't 'mitigate poverty' how you claim to. Do you have any idea how many of the people who can't meet the work requirements on healthcare are going to end up in poverty because they can't afford the care they need?"

"I hear you," he started, "but this is the best way to make it more affordable without tankin' the economy."

"Have you even considered capital gains taxes?"

"That's gonna kill entrepreneurship."

"You're so full of it sometimes," Y/N scoffed. "'Entrepreneurs' won't be affected. It only affects, like, Jeff Bezos and Mark Zuckerberg, and they have so many assets that it literally doesn't matter."

"I'm not gonna sit here and argue with you about this. I'm not sayin' you're wrong, but I am sayin' this bill needs to be somethin' I can convince the Senate to pass," he said, and Y/N rolled her eyes.

"Then write a new bill that doesn't mean the people who are the worst off don't get coverage," she said, jotting that down on the side of the paper, "because this doesn't resolve the issue."

"I'll bring it up when I get the chance," he assured her, and she glanced back at him with a grateful smile. "Can I ask why this is so important to you?"

"Because I'm an empathetic person, and I care about people?" she replied, tone scathing, and he raised an eyebrow.

"Woah, there. That wasn't an attack, sweetheart," he said. "What's got you worked up?"

"I'm not 'worked up,'” she bit back, but when he gave her an apologetic look, gaze soft, her annoyance began to subside. “This is just a sore subject for me." Y/N finally lowered the paper in her lap, turning her head toward Thomas. "I know I've told you about how long my parents spent in the hospital before they passed."

"Yeah. Yeah, you have," he said softly. He turned, orienting himself in Y/N's direction so he could pull her into his lap, and while she sighed, she laid back against his chest.

"When they died, I was left with most of their healthcare debt," she continued. "I was living far below the poverty line for almost a decade because of it."

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, and she laced her fingers into his with his arms around her waist.

"It was a long time ago," she replied. "I just don't want anyone else to end up in anything like the situation I was in. Nobody deserves that."

"No, they don't. I'll see what I can get past Congress." He kissed the side of her neck, and she hummed contentedly, squeezing his hands. "But I've still gotta discuss my plan for healthcare on Friday, so stop demolishing my speech."

"You asked me to look over it," she said frankly, and though her eyes had fallen shut when she laid against him, she cracked one open to glance at him skeptically. "These are my edits. Change the bill."

"That's an awful weighty edit, sweetheart."

"Hey, I also improved your phrasing," she went on, holding his paper up where they could both see it. "I'm making your speech better, don't complain about it."

"You cut my section about deductibles?"

"No one wants to talk about deductibles, babe." She tapped the paper with the back of her pen. "They want to know whether they'll be insured or not. They won't listen to the nuances of your bill in your public address. You're going to need a press release for that."

"And the part about family values?"

"It was useless." She shrugged. "I know you're just pandering to your party and all, but it sounded stupid in the context of the speech."

"Harsh," Thomas said, and the offense in his voice was mostly dramatized. Y/N pursed her lips. "But I can't be breachin' party lines in this speech. I'm not gonna get anything done if I turn the Senate Republicans against me."

"Listen, I'm not a political strategist, so that's your prerogative," she said matter-of-factly. "But if you don't like my feedback on your speeches, then hire a damn speechwriter, Thomas."

He hummed reluctantly. "But havin' you review my speeches gives me an excuse to spend more time with you. I don't have a whole lotta interest in having even longer meetings with White House staffers."

"Then take my edits to heart." She pursed her lips. "You know very well that I'm the only reason you have bipartisan support. If I didn't pick fights with you once a week about green energy, all the Democrats would still oppose all your stances on it."

"I'll look back over the speech in the mornin', then," he decided, and she shifted on the couch to face him, legs still draped over his lap. "I trust you."

"Good," she replied, and she looped her arms around his neck as she pulled herself up to kiss him. "But stop exploiting my degree in journalism."

"I'm not exploitin' it."

"Then what do you consider asking your wife to edit your speeches pro-bono to be?"

"A nice li'l side effect of managin' to convince someone so smart to marry me." She laughed as he pulled her back in to kiss him, but she gasped when he bit her lip teasingly, and his mouth drifted down her neck. "I love you," he murmured against her skin.

"I love you, too."

With that, Thomas hooked his arm up under her legs, and his smile widened against her neck when she yelped as he picked her up. "Now, I seem to remember sayin' something about carryin' you to bed if you were workin' for more than five minutes, so you don't get to negotiate anymore."

She squirmed in his grasp, but any of her efforts to get out of his arms weren't in earnest. She huffed. "So much for respecting personal liberty. Just wait until your voting bloc finds out all that rhetoric was just a lie."

"Oh, hush, let's not pretend you mind," he said as he tossed her down onto their bed, and she bounced when her back hit the mattress. He didn't hesitate to climb on after her. Though she tried to pull herself up to rest on the throw pillows, Thomas was on his hands and knees above her; she didn't have much of a range of movement when he dipped down to kiss her. "If you did, you wouldn't have married me."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, Jefferson," she grumbled, despite wrapping her arms around his neck. "Talk all you want, but I dunno how smug you're gonna be when I up and leave you one of these days."

He grinned. "You know I don't buy that for a second." She rolled her eyes, but the corners of her lips twitched upward when he kissed her forehead. "You love me too much."

Despite everything, Y/N could feel herself flush. "Just go put on some pajamas so we can go to sleep."

"Alright, if you insist," he huffed, rolling off of her. "Be right back."

"You'd better hurry, or I might run off with Dolley and elope," she called after him, and Thomas laughed.

"'S cute, but we both know you aren't goin' anywhere."

"And why not?"

He raised a confident brow. "I'll tie you down if that's what it takes to keep you here, sweetheart."

"Wouldn't be the first time," she mumbled, turning to discard the throw pillows from the bed onto the floor.

When she looked back at him, his grin was still wide, smug, but the look in his eyes was soft. She pursed her lips as her own smile broadened. "Now go change. I'm not going to sleep without you."

"Fine. You need some rest.”

“Yeah. So do you.”

[laheyyisaac]

Overdue

chapter 1 — american legion

SUMMARY: Guinevere Bailey just moved to McKinney, TX in order to figure out her life. She meets Captain Hank Syverson at the local library, and she finds out she might have bitten off more than she can chew. PAIRING: Syverson x OFC WORD COUNT: 1299 A/N: hii! first fic here! just now starting. i’m going to be making a graphic for it if i can when i get back to my computer back home. inspired and encouraged by @promptandpros, so this first chapter’s for you, babe. thanks so so much to @alyxkbrl for reading over this one! if you’d like to be added to my tags list, please IM or inbox me! TAGS:  @promptandpros @alyxkbrl​ @completelybonkersentirelymad @mylifefallingupthestairs @kissthatlifeaway @dangerouslovefanfic PART 2

“Where’s Carly-Jean? Gwen, have you seen her?”

Guinevere Bailey glanced up from her cart of books, eyes wide as she sat down the one she was shelving. She shook her head, and her coworker nodded, zipping off to the next person. It had been a long day today, mostly filled with library patrons who were less than excited about some new feature they had rolled out. 

She had worked at her little library in McKinney, Texas for two years now. Gwen had been a former resident of Dallas, TX, and the significantly smaller McKinney was well received. Moving there had been the best thing she’d done, and she was only a 30 minute drive from Dallas anyway.

Her family was more sad than upset, and she made a habit to visit the house she’d lived in for twenty some odd years every now and again. Just to get filled up on casserole and the like. She’d left, mostly, because of her family. She’d desired to actually get away from them a bit more, so she’d moved out to Dallas proper when she was 20. Five years of that, and she had moved to McKinney. She was approaching 30 now, and she still had no idea what she wanted. Not really.

She supposed she could keep working with the library, but she wanted more. She had always wanted more. Sometimes she wanted the picket fence life with a baby on her hip. Other days she wanted to be a woman in charge of a career. Something exciting. Something boring. She wasn't sure what exactly she wanted yet. She was supposed to know. Thirty wasn't so far away.

"Gwen, go set up for the Veteran's thing in the auditorium." Her supervisor, Jerry, with his monotone and furrowed white brows, looked over at her, watching her zone out and, essentially, panic.

She nodded to soothe his fears, putting her books away happily and trudging towards the keys to grab the one's for the auditorium. It was short work, setting up the microphone and laptop for the PowerPoint. They were having someone talk today. Or rather, the American Legion was. Gwen didn't know. She only knew that they probably wouldn't know how to work the computer.

"Am I in the right spot?" Someone asked, and Gwen whipped her head around with a squeak at the sound. 

He was handsome, well built, and very tall. His head was buzzed, but his beard was almost unkempt, long but...looking rather soft. Gwen struggled for words. Obviously, he was in the right spot. He was dressed in a rather nice uniform. He was an army man by the looks of him. She swallowed and finally spoke up when she noticed his brow quirked.

“Yeah. You’re in the right spot. Though, you’re about a half hour early.”

He laughed and shrugged his shoulders, putting hands on his hips. “Well, my mama always told me that being on time was being late. Guess I still listen to her from time to time.”

“Smart.”

He looked at her name tag briefly and extended his hand. “Hank Syverson,” he said, introducing himself. Or at least, Gwenn assumed he was introducing himself.

“Gwen Bailey. Nice to meet you, Mr. Syverson,” she replies, shaking his large hand.

He shakes his head and waves his other hand in a sign of distaste. “No. No. Just...just Sy. If you want. Don’t go by Hank much, and Mr. Syverson is my pa.”

She grins as he keeps a hold of her hand. It’s warm, and he’s fairly warm. If not a bit scraggly. She reluctantly releases his hand and looks around. “Well, Sy, it’s lovely to meet you. Hope to see you around sometime?”

The question was open ended. She didn’t know if he lived in McKinney or if he just… was here for this....talk.

“Yeah. You need help with anythin’? My mama’s outside gettin’ books for my nieces and nephews, and I don’t really wanna go look at kiddie books for the next half hour.”

“Sure! Sure. You can help me set up these chairs. You look strong enough.”

His laughter makes Gwen feel warm inside. “Yeah, that’s what I’m good for, anyhow.”

Fifteen minutes later, they were done, and all Gwen really had to do now was wait for the American Legion folk. While they worked, she and Sy had talked about a few things. He was a captain in the US Army. He’d been stationed in a great many places, namely Baghdad, and he was on leave for the foreseeable future. He didn’t say why, and she didn’t have the heart to ask, considering he looked rather forlorn about it.

“My mama’s happy about it. She was over the moon when I told her I was comin’ back. She expected me to move back to my place in Dallas, but I missed home. Missed my family. So I’m temporarily a man child, living with my parents.” He laughed at that, his laugh so easy and sweet.

“What about you?” He asked. “You a McKinney native, or…?”

“No,” Gwen said softly. “Not really. My mom and dad live outside Dallas. One of those big Texas lady mansion houses. I lived in Dallas for a bit, but I left. Not sure why. Just got tired of it.”

Sy nodded, as though he understood. Maybe he did. Maybe he knew exactly what she meant. “I get that. It gets monotonous sometimes. We need changes of scenery.”

“You’re weirdly prolific, you know it?”

“Yeah, I’m dumb enough to say smart shit sometimes.”

“I like it.” Gwen hadn’t intended to say it like that, but he smiled nonetheless. They sat down in the chairs they set up, sitting with two chairs between them. She looked over at him, sitting in companionable silence. After a few minutes, he decided to say something, opening his mouth. 

“I was wondering if —” He was interrupted by the American Legion president, smiling and calling out his name.

“Hank Jr.! How are ya, boy?” He asked, and Gwen had to stifle a laugh. Sy was anything but a boy.

Sy stands and extends his hand, shaking with the president. His name was Jackson if Gwen remembered right. She was a little peeved at him, having been curious about what he’d been about to ask. Or say. Or anything.

She was at least hopeful this wouldn’t be the last time they’d see one another. She waved goodbye to Sy and spoke with Jackson for a moment, giving him all he’d need for his presentation. She felt Sy’s eyes on her back as she left.

A few hours later, Gwen was in the back, processing books. She rather liked the process, covering the books in dust jackets or tape to protect them. It was nice. Kinda fun too. She got into a rhythm, mind absent and thinking on Sy for the rest of the evening. He was nice. Genuine. Funny. Cute. All of the above. She wondered if she’d ever hear from him again. She cursed herself for not getting his number.

“Gwen?”

Gwen looked up at one of the clerks she worked with. Lacey. She was relatively young, younger than Gwen at least by a few years. Gwen gave her a smile and looked up, pausing her work for just a moment.

“That uhhh… guy who was at the American Legion thing…”

“Jackson?”

“No, the speaker guy. The younger one.”

“Yeah?” Gwen asked, unable to hide the anticipation in her voice.

“He left his number for you. I can throw it away if you want. I get dudes hitting on me all the time.”

“No! No, I’ll take it.” And Gwen plucked the paper from her hands, looking at the messy print. Sy. And then, 10 numbers that made her grin. 

[spicyfoodboi]

Can i request a scenario with our favourite Pikachu and his s/o who is usually all stoic and aloof, gettin shaken up and starts cryin cause of a really hyper realistic dream of where he leaves her, and maybe some real cute fluff at the end where kami comforts them-? Sorry if this is really specific 😂

"it was just a dream."

Genre: angst then fluff

A denki kaminari x reader

A/n: hey guys! So i'm down to my last 5 requests so now is the best time to request something! I've been doing a lot of angst then fluff and i'm not complaining because i love it! Hopefully you enjoy this anon and to the rest of you guys reading this. Let's begin!

Your stoic demeanor didn't push denki away,

Hell, he got even closer to you because of it.

He knew there was something more than your aloof personality.

You hesitantly let him into your life and he lets you in his.

After being together for a while, you started to get comfortable with his softness and cheekiness.

Along with that comfort came in doubts and insecurities.

What if he didn't want you? Maybe he was lying? What if he he was just forcing himself to like you?

Well, your doubts came alive in a nightmare.

You fell asleep besides the boy while he played video games right besides you.

Your dream started when you acted coldly to him in public, then he started insulting you.

"you know, i just pretended that i love you? I didn't like you from the start."

That flinched at his tone, like he just slapped you in the face.

You wanted to say something but your mouth was glued shut.

"i just dated you for the say that i have a girlfriend. But now i found someone hotter, i don't need you anymore. Get out of my life and keep that attitude you have and shove it down the drain."

Those were the final words you heard before you woke up with a gasp.

You quickly sat up and looked around,

You were still in denki's room, he was just shutting off his console.

He looked at you and froze.

He took a second to collect himself before cleaning up everything then sitting down next to you.

"babe?... What's wrong?" he said, wiping your tears away.

You didn't even realize you were crying.

You told him everything, you small hics turned into sobs as you continued describing the nightmare.

By the end of it, you were a mess, sobbing into your hands.

Denki stayed quiet for a few seconds, which started to prove your doubts correct. Maybe he really was just pretending.

"i-it might be true. Y-you might just be pretending. I-i don't blame you-"

You were about to finish the sentence then get up and leave before he tackles you down on the bed, hugging you tightly.

"it was just a dream. Don't you say that stuff about yourself because i love you the way you are." he said, making you face him and kissing your forehead.

He kept whispering sweet nothings in your ear to lull you to sleep.

It worked.

THERE WE GO! thank you so much for requesting anon! I only have 5 requests left in my ask box so please leave your requests in my inbox! Thanks for anon for requesting this and thanks to everyone who reads my fics, love you guys 😘😘

My rules | masterlist

[neon-junkie]

Speaking of old man Micah would you be interested in writing a one shot where he reunites with his s/o from the gang? Either pre epilogue or during the epilogue, whatever prompt inspires more!

SORRY this ask also drowned in my inbox, but I managed to fish it out!!  Wouldn’t it be a shame if you escaped just before it all kicked off at Beaver Hollow? And had to rely on what the papers told you to piece together what happened? Do you think Micah would ever tell you the truth? I think not.  Gender-neutral reader!

This isn't the first time you've been robbed, or attempted to be robbed. Being a gun for hire isn't too bad of a job, especially with your gunslinging background. Sure, you've had many close encounters with bullets, but you're trigger happy and this job satisfies your urges.

You're riding through Big Valley, accompanying a stagecoach of fancy folk heading from Blackwater. They wanted to take a more scenic route to Valentine, so they were being driven through one of the prettiest plains that New Handover has ever seen.

It was no surprise when a bunch of no goods jumped out from the trees, demanding you stopped and handed them everything they had. You're outnumbered, yes, but these men looked weak - skinny and infested, their skin red and itchy, malnourished. That's probably why they were hoping their posse number would scare you, but it didn't.

"Come on now, just hand it over. No need for folk to get shot," one of them tells you.

"The only folk gettin' shot here is you. Put your guns down, little boy," you tell him, your pistols at the ready. The driver is also pointing his shotgun.

"Little boy?" he laughs. "You better watch that mouth else I'll put it to better use," he snickers.

"You ever seen someone get their tongue cut out before? It's real nasty, and I'd be happy to show ya," you tell him.

You overhear a few more gang members approaching from horseback behind you, though they seemed to have stopped a little further out from the group. The lockbox on the back of the coach seems safe, for now.

"I think this ones itchin’ for a fight, boys," you overhear one of the men behind you say. And his voice seems... familiar. He sounds like he has flem and tobacco stuck in his throat and has given up on trying to get it out.

You keep your head forward.

"I've got twelve bullets here, boys. More than enough for each of ya."

"And we've got a lot more than that, sweetheart," another man from behind you says. This time you have to look, that voice rings a very loud bell, and you can already feel your heart sinking and your stomach turning.

You slowly look over your shoulder, guns still at the ready, pointing forward, but you subconsciously lower them slightly as you figure out who that voice belongs to.

"Micah?" you question, eyes meeting his, or one of his. There's a very distinct scar over his left eye, starting at his nose and trailing above his brow. He still wears that same white hat, and a brown leather coat that you haven't seen since you were huddled up in Colter with him, all those years ago.

"Hello, sweetheart," Micah greets you, trotting his mount forward slowly and stopping beside you. He looks up at you before dismounting, standing below the carriage. "You gonna come down from there and greet me properly?" Micah asks you, offering his hand.

"You tell your men to put their guns away first. I'm on the job, Micah," you tell him.

"You heard ‘em. Guns away, we is lettin' this lot go," Micah orders them in a raised voice.

"Let them go?" Joe huffs, scowling forward at Micah. You knew it was him! Still as ugly as you remember.

"You heard me, didn't ya? Let them go."

"Fine," Joe spits, holstering his guns. The rest of Micahs men follow, along with yourself, though the driver keeps his shotgun on his lap.

"Well?" Micah asks as he looks up at you, flexing his hand as it's still raised, waiting for you. You take it, your gloved hands meeting his for the first time in years. He helps you down from the carriage, a soft smile on his lips. He still has the same mustache, though his hairs are almost fully grey. His length has gone, his hair short and swept back, and it surprisingly suits him.

 "Been a while, ain't it?" Micah asks you, his hand still in yours.

"It has," you tell him.

"I went looking for you, you know," Micah informs you. You had escaped before the disaster went down, helping Tilly and Mary-Beth escape in the back of Pearson's wagon. After that, you headed back West, trying to get far away from that mess. You saw in the newspaper that Arthur had been killed by Pinkertons, the gang was no more, and everybody had gone their separate ways.

"I heard the Pinkertons finally caught up to y'all," you tell him. "Did you ever find out who the rat was?" you ask.

Micah lets out a long sigh before telling you "I'm afraid we didn't, sweetheart. Guess we'll never know," he shakes his head.

"Real shame. I was lookin' forward to cuttin' their balls off."

You feel Micahs hand tighten slightly around yours. He takes your other hand in his, raising them up to his chest tenderly.

"Where is you holdin' up? I don't wanna keep you from doin' your job so I'll pop by. Gotta let these fine folk get to wherever they're headin'," Micah says, sending a fake smile over to the strangers in the back of the stagecoach.

"Here, actually. A little cabin just up in the trees over there," you tell him as you point down towards the valley.

"How strange. I been roaming these parts for a while now and I ain't ever seen no sign of you," Micah says.

"I spend most of my time on the road, workin' and all that," you shrug. "I'll be back in a few days. Why don't you pop by in a weeks time?" you ask.

"Course. I'll be there, sweetheart," Micah smiles. "Now, I ain't gonna keep you away from your job any longer," Micah tells you as his thumbs stroke over the back of your hands, still pressed against his chest.

"You better not," you joke. "You get goin' now, and take your men with you," you tell him, letting go of his hands so you can climb back up onto the coach.

"Of course. Anythin' for you, darlin'," Micah says as he climbs onto the back of his mount. "I'll be seeing you soon," he smiles.

Micah gives you one last look before riding off, his men in tow, the sound of hooves heavy as they echo through the valley. The stagecoach driver doesn't say anything, he just gives the reigns a whip and you're back on your way.

That warm feeling remains in your stomach for the rest of your journey, accompanying you as you ride back to your homestead, and it gets even warmer when you see Micahs horse already hitched up outside. It's no surprise that he probably picked the lock and snuck in, but you don't mind. That's Micah for you.

It's about time you enjoyed your reunion.

[littlespoonevan]

So like...if you’re feeling it I’d straight up kill for a drabble of your thoughts of what happens after the wedding before the end tag. Them getting to the hotel together? Going to sleep together as a married couple? Honestly peak and also don’t look at me I’m emo.

i got you, anon!!!! listen i still have those sentence prompts in my inbox so i’m sure i’ll probably write plenty more wedding related fics but for now, here’s a couple of hours after the wedding ends :’)))

*

Ian feels jittery behind the wheel, thankful theroads are quiet since he keeps looking away from the windscreen and grinning atMickey every five seconds.

Holy fuck, they’re married.

They did it. They made it.

And Ian’s never letting Mickey go ever again.

He can feel Mickey’s eyes on him, a mixture of affectionand something else that sets a fire burning in Ian’s stomach. And he wantsnothing more than to drive them straight to the hotel but he has to make a pitstop first.

“Weren’t you supposed to take the last right?” Mickeyasks when Ian keeps driving straight ahead.

Ian casts him a sidelong glance, mouth quirking atthe corners. “Just gotta make one quick stop first.”

Mickey raises an eyebrow but doesn’t question it,just drops his hand to cover Ian’s on the gearstick.

When they reach their destination Ian can’t hold backhis smile anymore, putting the car in park and turning his gaze to Mickey.Mickey’s stare goes from the sign above the door to Ian, a tiny wrinkle ofconfusion between his eyebrows. “The fuck we doing at a tattoo parlour?”

“S’your wedding present,” Ian tells him softly,squeezing Mickey’s hand before climbing out of the car.

“You’re gettin’ me a tattoo for a wedding present?”Mickey asks, quickly hopping out the car and following after him.

“Nope,” Ian says, throwing Mickey a wink over hisshoulder. “I’m getting a tattoo.”

Mickey scoffs. “And how exactly is that a present forme?”

“You’ll see,” Ian replies, grabbing Mickey’s hand anddragging him inside with him. He makes Mickey sit in the waiting area in thecorner while he talks to the girl behind the counter, making his way back overto him as she starts getting the station ready.

“Stay here,” Ian requests. “It’ll take like, fifteenminutes then you can see.”

Mickey shoots him a scrutinizing look like he’strying to figure out what the fuck Ian’s angle is but eventually, he nods. “Fine.But this better be worth it; you’re seriously cutting into our time in thehoneymoon suite.”

Ian ducks his head, biting back a grin. “It will be,”he promises.

True to his word, Ian is back in the waiting area fifteenminutes later, hands behind his back and staring down at Mickey with a mixtureof fear and anticipation.

“Well?” Mickey says, impatience finally getting thebetter of him.

Wordlessly, Ian holds out his left hand, palm sideup. He’s not wearing his rings and Mickey’s about to fucking kill him – again – when he notices the black ink atthe base of Ian’s ring finger. He grabs Ian’s hand and pulls it closer tohimself, touch gentling when he realises what he sees. Ian stares down at himwith wide eyes, watching Mickey’s tiny intake of breath as he turns Ian’s handover.

“I promise I’ll put the rings back on and I don’t planon taking them off again,” Ian tells him, voice only a breath above a whisper. “Butjust in case, I wanted to make sure I still always had it with me.”

Mickey’s eyes linger on the thin band of black ink onIan’s finger, his thumb hovering over the tiny m. m. interwoven in it just above where Ian’s finger meets hispalm, before he drags his eyes up to Ian’s face. Ian gazes back at him, heartin his mouth, as Mickey carefully turns his hand over once more and brushes akiss across Ian’s knuckles.

Ian lets out a trembling breath as soon as Mickey’slips make contact and Mickey’s eyes find his once again. He doesn’t know whichone of them moves first but he’s pulling Mickey up off the chair in the sameinstant that Mickey’s dragging him back out the door.

And if Ian presses a little harder on the acceleratoron the way to the hotel it has nothing to do with the way Mickey’s hand is gluedto his thigh under the steering wheel.

*

They burst through the door of the honeymoon suite ina rush, Ian stumbling backward as Mickey kisses every inch of his face he canreach. His fingers are clutching at Ian’s hair and Ian’s hands are fisted inhis tuxedo jacket and Mickey is too overwhelmed at the thought of knowing hegets to kiss Ian for the rest of his life to be able to handle any of this.

“’m so fucking in love with you,” Ian mutters againsthis lips, swallowing down Mickey’s groan and shoving at Mickey’s jacket to getit off his shoulders.

“You tryna fucking kill me today, Gallagher?” Mickeyhuffs, letting go of Ian for the least amount of time possible to kick the doorshut and throw his jacket behind him.

“No,” Ian murmurs, rolling his forehead againstMickey’s and smudging a kiss against the corner of Mickey’s mouth.

Mickey stifles a sigh, pushing forward to move Ianback towards the bed and trailing his lips along Ian’s jaw.

Ian falls onto the bed with a bounce, pulling Mickeydown with him and rolling them over. They pause, just for a moment, to catch theirbreath – though looking up at Ian, Mickey doesn’t think he’ll ever get hisbreath back.

They’re pressed together from their chests to theirtoes and there’s still far too many items of clothing between them but thismoment still feels more intense than anything they’ve shared before.

Because it ismore, he realises. They’re married. He’s inked on Ian’s skin and Ian’s inked onhis. This is it. Them. Now. Forever.

Swallowing down the lump of emotion in his throat,Mickey curls his hand around Ian’s jaw.

“Kiss me,” he whispers.

Ian’s eyes go impossibly soft and then he’s leaningdown – foreheads tipping together, noses bumping, and finally, lips. Catchinghim in a kiss that goes straight to Mickey’s toes.

It’s bliss.

*

Mickey is stretched out on the bed, half drapedacross Ian with the steady thrum of Ian’s heartbeat under his ear where Mickey’shead rests on his chest. “Turns out the afterglow’s better when you’re married,”he muses.

Ian huffs a laugh, chest vibrating under Mickey’scheek. “I think it’s just because there’s no fear of being interrupted foronce,” he says, sweeping a hand down Mickey’s back and resting it at the baseof Mickey’s spine.

“Mm, maybe,” Mickey allows drowsily, reaching out forIan’s left hand to inspect the tattoo again. His breath catches when he sees itup close, the same awe from earlier pouring through him as his eyes trace overthe band. Fucking hell, Ian Gallagher is gonna be the death of him. (He’s gonnabe his life first though.)

“I could probably put my rings back on now,” Ian saysafter a minute or two of Mickey playing with his hand. “Should be okay as longas I keep the tape on.”

Mickey nods, lifting up from Ian’s chest long enoughthat Ian can reach for his rings on the nightstand. A moment later they’re backin their original position and Ian gives his hand back to Mickey. The bottomsof the two m’s peek out beneath Ian’s ring and Mickey didn’t think it waspossible to feel more emotional rightnow.

“I fuckin’ love you,” he says quietly, words halfburied in Ian’s chest.

Ian wraps his arm around him, hand squeezing Mickey’sshoulder. “I love you too,” he whispers. And then, even more softly, “Thanksfor marrying me.”

Mickey smiles, letting his eyes fall shut. “Was alwaysgonna be you, Ian.”

It’s never even been a fucking question. He belongedwith Ian before he even knew what it meant to belong with someone.

“It was always you too, Mick.”

It’s them. Always.

*