#but they got their moment in the sun anyway

[sammyluvr]

✶ green couch — sam winchester

cw : gn!reader, younger sibling!reader, fluffy hurt/comfort, mentions of arguing, unedited, 898 words. requested ! for my 900 followers event [ closed ] .

prompt : a green, velvet couch + “i don’t say it enough, but i care about you. a lot.”

a green, velvet couch sounds like something fancy and desirable, maybe like it belongs in the home of some wealthy person’s well curated home. this one smells a bit musty, is falling into disrepair, and resides in bobby’s cluttered living room. regardless, you think it deserves some merit for the fact that it’s still so soft after many years of use and admittedly poor care. it’s not even lumpy, and is a surprisingly nice place to fall asleep when one is avoiding their overprotective older brothers.

you are trusted to be alright most of the time. you have all of the skills that you need to keep yourself safe, but it doesn’t stop sam or dean from worrying. it’s just that you didn’t expect to get any shit about it from sam today. dean is more likely to overreact about something like this, but sam must be extra on edge today.

honestly, you’re not even completely sure what it was that he got upset about, just that it was something about this last hunt. either way, it was all frustrating enough that you abandoned the cot in the room you usually share with sam here, and have migrated to your favorite couch of the house. the sun is long set, and you fall asleep there, knees bent to accommodate the size of the couch and neck tilted up as your head presses into the armrest. you’ll be sore in the morning, but you’re as stubborn as sam and already fast asleep anyway.

the clock on the wall ticks softly, marking 2:17 a.m. when sam finally comes back inside. you’d argued in the gravel driveway, and when you stormed back into the house, sam took to sitting alone on the hood of some dysfunctional car for hours.

he treads lightly as he lets himself back into the house, not wanting to wake anyone, but most especially you. he’s sure you’re tired after the hunt and subsequent argument, which he’s felt bad about since the moment he raised his voice at all. he doesn’t notice you when he passes by the living room, the shadows and wide back cushion of the couch keeping you hidden from his view. but he enters the bedroom where you should be sleeping and immediately notices your absence. he calls your name softly, then turns on his heel, mind already wheeling with worst case scenarios. he checks dean’s room and the bathroom before rushing back down the stairs. he’ll wake dean if he can’t find you in the house.

he keeps his voice quiet as he continually calls your name, not panicking just yet. he’s glad he kept quiet when he spots you on the couch, cheek squished against the armrest and day clothes mussed. a sigh of relief leaves his lips, and another rush of guilt floods his chest.

his feet carry him softly to you, silent to keep you sleeping. he crouches in front of you, the faint sound of muffled music meeting his ears. you’ve fallen asleep with one earbud in, the wires leading to your ipod all tangled. with quiet, slow hands, he slips the ipod from where it had begun to disappear in the crack between cushions. his big thumb almost presses skip instead of pause, but the music stops. your sleep is deep enough that the change doesn’t make you stir one bit. now, all sam can hear is your soft, even breathing and the ticking of the clock.

he gently pulls the earbuds away from your sleeping form and wraps the wires neatly around the ipod before setting it on the carpet and returning his gaze to your face.

“jesus, kid, i’m sorry,” he whispers, a light frown on his lips. your short sleeved shirt catches his attention and his frown deepens. it gets cold at night here, and the downstairs isn’t as good at retaining heat than the rooms above. he shrugs his brown jacket off and carefully settles it over you, its fabric warm with his body heat. his expression softens when the warmth pulls a soft sigh from your lips and you seem to settle a bit more than before.

he waits a little while to see if you’ll wake. he’d rather you sleep in a bed tonight; he’ll give up the bigger one for you if you want. but he’d also hate to disrupt your sleep. you’ve always had an affinity for this couch anyway. so when you stay fast asleep, he brings you down a blanket from his bed and promises to apologize when you’re awake in the morning.

his hand lingers over the top of your head after making sure you’ll be warm enough, and his voice is soft and sincere. “i don’t say it out loud enough, but i care about you. a lot. i’ll go into town and buy you a good breakfast in the morning.”

a few hours later, you get too hot. half asleep, you kick the poor blanket off and it falls to the floor in a heap. but you curl your fingers into the thick material of sam’s jacket, not needing to open your eyes to recognize the familiar texture. sturdy on the outside edge, but the lining a bit softer. for a work jacket, it’s quite comfortable to sleep with. more than anything, it’s comforting and a very appropriate beginning to an apology.

[thelov3lybookworm]

I'm yours.

Summary: Upsetting interviews, but a few kisses and words can fix everything.

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 2176

Warnings: none me thinks 😋

A/n: teehee i love this 🤭🥹

ANYWAYS, ENJOYYYY!!!🥳🥳🥳

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

rhysand-thegreat

liked by nestassworld-obvi, nesta_archeron26, feyre-archer-on and 551,026 others

rhysand-thegreat Didn't wanna leave the bed, but she is heartless 😔💔(jk she only saved me from a scolding from my manager 🥲) At least I could get some reps in with her 😏

view all comments

rhysandsworld-obvi Rhys that sounds so 18+ wtf 😭

rhysand-thegreat 😏😉

imjustagirl1995 i could only wish to have a man who looks that good in a shirt 🤤

getsunghoonedloser broooo i hate it when people ship him with anyone but Y/n like LOOK AT HOW IN LOVE HE IS HOW CAN ANYONE NOT SEE IT GOSH🙄 you keep ur head high Y/n and ignore those dumbasses 🥹

rhysandsworld-obvi ❣️❣️❣️

mor-theoneinred i actually just realised Y/n and Cassian have similar users. what is up with that? 🤨

nestassworld-obvi are you jealous she is my bestie and not yours? 😏

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Being married to the love of her life was the best thing in the world, sure, and there was nothing Y/n would change.

Except his profession, of course.

It was not that Y/n wanted Rhysand to stop acting. She was proud of his talent. But watching everyone say how good he looked with his fellow actresses got on Y/n’s nerves sometimes.

Not always, but on her bad days, she wished she could keep her husband away.

The day had started off pretty normal. She had woken up, walked downstairs to find her husband eating dinner by himself. It was unusual but nothing out of the ordinary. Rhysand usually refused to eat unless she was eating with him, but on days he had an early interview or a long day scheduled, he was forced to.

She had seen him off, then set to cleaning up and showering. She hadn’t wanted to get dressed up as she wanted to be comfortable, so she pulled on her husband’s loose t-shirt and some grey sweatpants. She had spent the day doing mostly nothing, reading and scrolling on apps.

It was during her scrolling session that she came across a short video edit of her husband and his newest co-worker and also the one most shipped with him, Clair Smith.

Their recent movie had skyrocketed in fame after the insane chemistry between the two, and while Y/n rarely ever got jealous of actresses her husband worked with, the tension between them made even her wonder if there was something going on.

She never doubted his love, of course, but the way Clair looked at him made her blood boil.

After watching the edit for a minute, she sighed and exited the app, deciding to watch some long videos to calm down. Settling more comfortably on the plush couch, Y/n looked to her side and reached out to grab the soft grey velvet throw lying on the back of the couch, draping it around herself before leaning back into the armrest.

She scrolled for a moment, trying to find a video to keep her entertained until her husband returned. It was mostly book reviews, food recipes, podcasts and interviews her husband did. That was all that filled her feed usually.

But then a video caught her eye.

It was an interview Rhysand had talked about weeks ago, the lie detector test with him and his love interest in the movie.

Y/n stared at it for a moment, knowing she should scroll away and watch something that would shift her mind away from everyone who thought Clair was better suited to be with her husband. She told herself she could always watch it tomorrow, when her mind was more at peace. When she wasn’t feeling down.

But she also wanted to watch it, and she wanted to watch it now.

Whatever.

She clicked on the video, pulling the throw tighter around herself. The sun was beginning to go down, casting long fingers of gold and orange clawing at the walls. Almost like her own conscious screaming at her to not watch the video.

Rhys wore the red shirt Y/n always insisted he looked the best in. She could remember the morning he had gone for this particular interview. He had snuggled closer to her in bed, groaning and whining like a baby about how he didn’t want to go, that he was too comfortable and wanted to sleep more.

She had poked his side, then kissed his nose and told him he needed to wake up, or his manager would kill him.

As the video began, only two chairs were in the frame. They were set too close together for Y/n’s comfort, but she watched on as Clair walked in and Rhys followed. Clair settled down, smiling at the interviewer, but Rhys grabbed the arms of the chair and moved it a bit away from Clair’s. She looked up at Rhys, lips parted midway through her sentence, then she turned away again, any and all confusion wiped from her face. Rhys only sat down once there was enough space between the two, then turned to the interviewer too.

Y/n felt her lips quirking at the corners at the gesture alone as the interview progressed. It all went well, with questions about working on set and the movie’s plot, the hardships and characters. But then the interviewer decided to question them on their personal lives.

"So, what are your plans for the future with Clair? Fans- and even me- are very interested to see how you two progress." The woman laughed, smirking lightly as Clair giggled and looked towards Rhysand.

Y/n paused the video, feeling her blood boil in her veins, and exited the video, pausing to read some comments, as one would do. Most of them were about Rhys and his co-star’s chemistry, how they went so well together and fans wishing they were together. But quite a few also added timestamps of the question Y/n had stopped at, writing in all caps and bold letters about how Rhys looked so in love when talking about ‘her’, that Y/n assumed it was Clair.

It irked her more than it should have. But maybe it was just a bad day.

She was used to these things, but no one went so far as to wish Rhys was together with his co-stars.

"Honey! I’m home."

Y/n jumped, realising the living room was completely dark, the sun having gone down. She cursed under her breath as she hurried to stand, pausing for a moment to let her legs get accustomed to the sudden movement before walking out to greet her husband.

"Hey." She mumbled, tugging the throw tighter around her as she watched him bend down to unlace his shoes.

He smiled at her, lifting his head. "How was your day, darling?"

Y/n shrugged. "Good, I guess. What about you?"

He sighed, groaning as he straightened. "It was good, but I am so tired. I had three interviews today."

Y/n tried to smile, her mind still stuck on the way Clair had stared at him. He didn’t seem to notice the grimace on her face as he went into the kitchen, turning on the lights as he went.

"Oh?" She mumbled.

He nodded. "They kept talking. Then there were technical difficulties at the second interview, so we were running late for the third one."

Y/n hummed along, hearing but not listening. But she had lost all capacity to hear anything except the same words repeated in her ear spoken by the interviewer.

What are your plans with Clair?

Y/n blinked when she felt a touch on her arm, watching as Rhys’s fingers cleared into her view.

"Darling? You okay?"

Y/n inhaled, lifting her chin and meeting his eyes. "Yeah, of course. What were you saying?"

He looked unconvinced, and Y/n cursed herself. Even she herself heard the uncertainty in her voice.

But for her benefit, he kept speaking. "Did you watch the interview that came out this morning?"

His voice had a note of excitement in it, like a child who couldn’t control his urge to show off his new favourite toy.

It annoyed Y/n.

"Yes." She snapped.

His smile faded, brows furrowing. "Okay, you need to tell me what’s wrong right now. Did something happen?"

Y/n huffed, feeling guilty for yelling at him.

"It- it’s nothing, just a bad mood. I’m sorry."

She felt him move in closer, his steps silent as he reached out to hold both her arms and tugged her closer. Y/n peered up at him, her cheeks turning red.

"Tell me, love. Did someone say something?"

She sighed. "I just- I’m tired of watching everyone act like you aren’t married." Confusion took over his eyes, but he said nothing. Instead, he effortlessly lifted her onto the kitchen counter before slotting himself between her legs, his full attention on her. "I was scrolling, and I kept seeing so many edits of you and… and her."

He cocked his head. "Clair?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yes. And then I watched the interview, and everyone kept insisting they wished you two were together. Even the interviewer seemed intent on it."

She played with the buttons on his shirt as she spoke. She could practically feel his slight smile as he opened his mouth to speak, making her pout.

"Love, you know I only love you."

She glared at him. "You better, or I will kill you."

He smirked. "Kinky, but I like it."

She shoved his shoulder. "I’m not joking. I will kill you."

He leaned in, his smirk unwavering. "Neither am I, sweetheart."

She gave him a look. "I’m concerned for you."

He shrugged. "I find anything you do attractive, sweetheart. You shouldn’t be surprised anymore, I think."

Y/n grabbed his collar, staring deep into his eyes even as blood rushed to her neck. "You’re mine."

Rhys tightened his grip on her waist, placing a soft kiss to her neck. "I am yours."

She hummed, snuggling into the junction between his shoulder and neck. "I love you."

"I love you too, my love." He paused. "Did you watch the full interview?"

Immediately, her mood soured again. "No. I saw someone talking about the question about your future plans with her, and I closed it."

He pulled away and took his phone out of his pocket, tapping away without a word before placing the device in her hand. "Watch."

Y/n did not want to, but she remained quiet, taking his hand in hers.

"So, what are your plans for the future with Clair? Fans- and even me- are very interested to see how you two progress."

Rhys’s smile vanished, replaced by a cold look. "What do you mean by that? Why would I have any plans with her?"

The interviewer looked like she knew she had messed up. "I was just asking what the fans were curious about…"

Rhys raised a brow, turning to stare directly into the camera. "It is very well known that I am married and in love with my wife," his eyes softened at the mention of Y/n, making her belly flutter. "I have no plans for the future with anyone except her. I’d be extremely happy if everyone stopped acting like she doesn’t exist and wishing I was dating someone else, no matter how much onscreen chemistry we share."

Y/n realised the comments talking about how in love he looked were not about Rhys talking about Clair, but her.

Oh.

Oh.

"Forgive me for asking-"

"That’s fine, but remember it the next time before implying I have anything but acquaintance relations with my co-stars."

The woman nodded, and Y/n watched as Clair looked away from Rhys.

It was clear to anyone that she probably had a slight crush on him, and Y/n couldn’t blame her. He was just that charming and loveable, it was hard not to like him. She glanced up at him, pausing the video. Guilt festered in her chest once more, and he smiled.

"I’m sorry Rhysie-"

He lifted his hand to her jaw, pulling her face down to place a kiss to her forehead. "None of that. I know it can get hard sometimes, considering how the fans insist I am in a relationship outside of you, but you know I would never do that to you."

He let silence settle in for a moment, then- "I was going to ask you to come with me to the red carpets next week. You will come with me, right? I wanna show everyone what they see on screen is nothing compared to what real love looks like."

She nodded, giggling. "I love you."

"I love you too, darling."

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

rhysandsworld-obvi

rhysandsworld-obvi was havin a bad day, then he came home and we got takeout to rot in bed 😋

rhysand-thegreat all my favourite things in one post😍

rhysandsworld-obvi ur so dramatic 🤭🥹

rhysand-thegreat only for you😏😉

getsunghoonedloser the only reason i still use this damn app is to see their posts and comments thirsting over each other lol

thebiggestpookiee loll same 🥹😂

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

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[demaparbat-hp]

⭐

For better or worse, I'm rather obsessive over wording. I love to include little details and clues that tend to go over everyone's heads. Most of them are only there for my own devilish enjoyment!

Now, I'd like to talk about three specific moments from my Zuko-centric fic For the Spirits (read here!). Two of them are from chapter V, while the last one is a bit more recent, from chapter VIII.

Both lines include ridiculously subtle and obscure subtext that I'm not sure I'll get the chance to explore fully in the fic. So I'm using this excuse to talk about them!

Spoilers ahead!

Chapter V: There Was Sun

Read here.

He was left in silence, the thousands of eyes that lived in his bedroom standing watch over him. He laid down right there, ear pressed to the floor, his back to the door, and clutched his mother's anklet to his chest until the morning came.

Zuko was awoken by the ghost of a caress on his left cheek and the echo of a voice that told stories of dragons and spirits and love.

No matter how things may seem to change, never forget who you are.

Ursa dies and becomes a ghost in this scene—it's not really ambiguous, is it? I always knew Ursa was going to die to protect Zuko in this AU. That scene of Zuko staying behind to spy on Azulon’s edict—instead of running away as he did in canon—was actually what got this whole AU started!

It's a matter of seemingly insignificant divergences that just pile up until the consequences are so massive they impact the rest of the story.

In For the Spirits, Zuko directly hears Azulon’s order to kill him, so he stays awake all night in fear. When Ursa comes to say goodbye, she's confronted with a fully awake child she tries to calm down. It slows her down. It gets her caught. It gets her killed. And Zuko listens as it happens.

The scene I quoted is Ursa's final goodbye, after her death... But there's something else. One tiny, absolutely inconsequential detail that doesn't impact the story itself but I can't help but obsess over anyway.

Did you notice?

Zuko was awoken by the ghost of a caress on his left cheek...

(Some spirits don't know.)

(Others know too much.)

.

Agni was a beautiful being forever in repentance of some forgotten sin. Forever submitted to the Fire.

Zuko insisted on being alone the first time his bandages were removed.

The mirror was old and cracked, but did its job well, much like everything else on the Wani. Zuko sighed, hands bracing the sink before him in something akin to despair. He breathed in once, twice, before opening his eyes and facing the monster in the mirror.

The first time Zuko saw his scar, he laughed.

It was fitting, he thought, to bear the mark of the flames burning the flesh of a God.

It's Lore Time!

It shouldn't come as a surprise that I'm a sucker for narrative foils. Having a character be Touched (blessed, cursed, all the same) by a godlike spirit is just about the best excuse possible to chuck in as many parallels as one can think of.

That being said, I'm curious. Did you catch it at first read?

The fact that, while Zuko bears a scar from fire, Agni's face is forever burning.

(The first pic isn't supposed to be Agni, but rather Nightmare Zuko from my Perfect Prince comic. You get the idea, though.)

There's something about the imagery of it all, as well as the metaphor expressed masterfully in Zuko himself. Fire is all about the dichotomy. It's about savagery and control. Energy and burn. Gentleness and all-consuming rage. Fire is life. Fire is destruction.

A beautiful face forever burning, forever scarred.

Two halves of the same whole. All things the same.

.

Chapter VIII: Make You Stay

Read here.

In chapter II, Ming confessed that she had been one of the Royal Guards assigned to the Agni Kai arena when Zuko was burned. She helped General Iroh get him out of that place and heal him, given that medical attention was prohibited by the Fire Lord. Ming has stayed by Zuko's side ever since, but the Agni Kai still haunts her.

“I was nineteen!” she yelled, slapping the table. “I was nineteen and all I could smell was burnt flesh! That fucking scent still comes back every time I see him. It broke me and it wasn't even me! I wasn't the one who—I wasn't—I was nineteen and I wasn't ready!

When Yoi tells her in chapter VIII that Zuko is planning to go on a suicide mission, she panics and the Agni Kai comes rushing back to her mind.

Something quite interesting happens, though. Not only here, but also later on, during her conversation with Zuko.

See if you can catch it.

Ming felt the cold like never before. It was pumping in her ears, freezing the sweat on her nape, masking the thunder of her chest, tearing at her flesh—at her soul.

Rise and fight, Prince Zuko.

She snapped back into focus and sprinted away from an oblivious Yoi.

(...)

She refused to cry in front of Zuko. Not for this. Not after…after…

You will learn respect, and suffering will be your teacher.

Then so be it.

Zuko stared through her. She looked away.

Then so be it.

Haven't you noticed something a little...odd, about this AU? I mean, besides the spirit shenanigans, obviously. I'm talking about something that's missing. Something pivotal about Zuko's journey that just isn't there. The only word not yet written.

Avatar.

A larger threat, Zuko couldn't be allowed any chance to return to the Fire Nation. Not even a disgraceful mockery of an impossible mission. There's no chasing after the Avatar here. There's no looking for the last airbender (Zuko's previous visits to the Air Temples had a different motivation).

Zuko's banishment was a one-way ticket. And Ming just told us the reason why.

You will learn respect, and suffering will be your teacher.

(With open eyes and the misdirection of Agni's burning touch over his shoulder, Zuko had no reason to cower. So he stood up. He faced his destiny with honor and resignation. This was a test, wasn't it? Agni's challenge for his child...)

Then so be it.

(That line wasn't Ozai's to deliver.)

[chichariann-pjoverse]

SOLANGELO MOMENT

From The Sun And The Star by Rick Riordan and Mark Oshiro

There are no words for how happy I was that Rick got Mark Oshiro to cowrite this book... because yall know Rick would need a queer writer to write about us queers

There is so much potential and many essays I could write about this book because of how much I felt like it captured aspects of being queer, and identities, and finding your space, and finding the people who accept you AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Anyway this was a DTIYS for Awww_nuts on Instagram

[twst-drabbles]

How about yandere with either cater or vil (maybe both if you dont mind) trying to fight for you anyway they can. Id love if there were tears, bruises and a lot of nsfw if thats alright ¤v¤

Cater 5

Summary: You really should've blocked Cater the moment he sent you those pictures, but there's a morbid part of you that's curious. And so, you end up wanting to give him a taste of his own medicine.

(Got struck with an idea that I thought was neat. Got pretty long so I couldn't stuff as much nsfw stuff as I could've wanted. The stuff that is there is... well it painful nsfw stuff, you'll see what I mean. Either way! Enjoy!)

You've come to know Cater as a liar. A fun liar, the drama queen type that likes to exaggerate things for the sake of either getting more views or just get more engagement out of people. He stretches out stories in such a weird way that it entertains you.

As such, when he texted you that he got his ass beat from trying to "clear your name," or whatever, you thought it was just another one of his stories. Perhaps he got slapped to kingdom come, or his clothes or hair got damaged. The students here in this college are prissy like that, preferring less the messiness of physical fighting and more the magical variety.

Then he sent you a selfie. Took a picture of himself in front of a mirror, shirt open as if to entice you, with belt loose and everything. "Like what you see?"

You never took him for a masochist, but the evidence was all on display.

Dark purple bruises littered his ribs, torso practically warped with those swelled up lumps of skin. The knuckles of Cater's hand were scrapped, a large blister over his forearm, and a long cut that traveling from his wrist all the way to his elbow.

He should be in the hospital, but he was smiling with bitten lips and red eyes, as if nothing is wrong with the world. It was painful to look at and you texted as such.

"Oh come on, it's not that bad! You should see what I did to the other guy. Lookie here!"

…there was exposed bone, glittering with it's drying viscera as the sun laid its gaze upon it. Two of Cater's clones grinned with missing teeth, giving peace signs to the camera as a body laid prone on the grass, face twisted away all the way around into the ground.

Sometimes, you forget how dangerous magic is, and how fatal it can be when combines with the brutal need to hurt and maim.

You did not ask Cater to do this. You're in a college as a magicless half-student, filled to the brim with people who's egos are constantly on the hunt for something to feast on. You happen to be a rather perfect target, a person that everyone can talk shit about because what are you gonna do? You have no magic, no family, no nothing in this world, so therefore, no standing or power to ever defend yourself with.

Naturally you had to complain, and who better to have listen than Cater? He's always hungry for drama and you certainly had a lot to give.

That and you were always under the impression that he wouldn't do anything drastic, at least, wouldn't kill someone.

"Now you don't have to worry about this little hater for a bit, okay? See you tomorrow, love ya!"

…so, what do you do? Simple. You go to sleep, and pretend that he doesn't exist. Because you know what happens when you try and tell the teachers anything? Crowley gets a whiff of it somehow, then silences the situation until things are back to normal. Normal, at the expense of you.

Again, what can you do? You just do what's in your power. Ignore, ignore and ignore.

This college was always strange. You never should've made the mistake of trying to find any sort of familiar comfort here.

Days passed and more photos were sent. You didn't reply, but you always saw because you couldn't keep your curiosity at bay. A cycle of Cater getting himself hurt on his hunts, then him showing off the injuries to you in the form of a collage of selfies in increasingly salacious poses.

In one picture, he was straight up grabbing himself. On that day, you didn't look at his texts at all. And so, he begged you to not block him, to at least mark his messages as read so he can cling onto the fantasy that you're looking at him, you got an idea.

"Send me a clone. One clone. And it better be a clone and not you."

It was the middle of the night, you should've waited until after class to send the text. But oh well, the clone--probably--is here, happy and waiting. Looks pretty bright-eyed and bushy tailed for someone that keeps getting beat up for the sake of your attention.

It was… annoying, irritating.

You didn't wait. You stabbed him with the skewer you forgot to put away, right on your front porch. He fell upon the rotting wood floor and curled over his stomach. His eyes were wide, tears leaking out from the pain. Now if only his mouth would stop those yearning moans.

"Quiet, Grim's sleeping." You tried stabbing his spine but bone is a lot harder to pierce through. Instead, it sank between a rib and through a lung. And Cater, listening to you, covered his mouth. "Hold still."

You didn't like him looking at you, so you grabbed his hair and forced his head to bow at your feet. His throat bobbed, and you stabbed that too. It… wasn't as messy as you thought it would be. There was blood, there was gurgling, but it wasn't a gash.

When you were done, when this clone became a still body, you brought out your phone and took a picture. You sent to Cater without any words.

Thirty minutes later, Cater sent you a voice message. You knew that if you clicked it, you would be subjected to a disgusting session of self pleasure.

"Thank you," he texted, as if you gave him something most delicious. How gross.

"Send me another clone tomorrow." Because, as messy as it initially was, it was fun. And, the clone was self cleaning.

[penguinmerchant]

Your list is full of INTRIGUING words!!!! Can I hear some more about matchbreaker and praise 👀 👀 👀

Okay so praise is just what it sounds like 😂 Damen with a praise kink. Didn't get too far on this one because after I started it I found The Tall Kingdom I Surround and basically that fic did everything I wanted to do, and it did it so well, with such great characterization that I totally lost interest in writing anything myself. Maybe someday I'll come back to it...I'm sure the fandom could always use more fics of Damen being down bad for Laurent.

Matchbreaker is my longest wip right now. Basically the premise is that it's a retelling of Emma except since it's Laurent he breaks couples up instead of getting them together. 😂 I thought it was funny. Here's a snippet of dialogue.

“First of all,” Laurent said, his voice tight, controlled in a way that made both Auguste and Damen wince, “true love doesn’t exist. The entire concept is just a psychological defense mechanism that people use to make themselves feel better about the bad choices they make, and to justify why they stay with people who make them miserable.” “Laurent—” Damen started. “And secondly,” Laurent said, turning a harsh glare on Damen, “if true love did exist, then breaking up these couples would hardly be anything except a funny anecdote to them, wouldn’t it? Because if it were true, nothing I could do or say would be enough to stop them from being together.” “No one can be expected to weather a force of nature like you,” Damen murmured. “And I know the two of you love to harp on the fact that a lot of my friends end up breaking up with their partners—” “They’re not friends, they’re targets,” Auguste muttered. “��but did you ever stop to think that maybe I’m actually encouraging true love? Do you honestly think that Pallas would still be with what's his face if I hadn’t interfered on Lazar’s behalf? And now those two have been together for, what. Two years?”

So yeah! That's that! Damen is, of course, the Mr. Knightley character, while Auguste has taken over the father role. And...everything else doesn't quite line up perfectly. But that's the jist of it!

[maroonmused]

me and the marvel’s midnight suns writers in a who loves peter parker more competition,, i might have to tap out

[skrunksthatwunk]

losing my shit at this shot

noooo eiji im sorry you have to leave you're in danger you'll slow me down ohhh ok ash sorry im such a burden noooo you're not a burden we just live in different worlds and i don't wanna drag you into that distance distance distance meanwhile they're closer than ever. look at that you gay fucks your shadows are overlapping no matter how much you're in separate frames. jesus

[rwbyrg]

Me everyday thinking about how Ruby would get Oscar to laugh really hard when the latter is too deep in his own emotions to express anything, and it'll mostly involve her trying to be silly or cracking a bad joke.

This boy would laugh so hard even if it's not particularly funny if only because it's an effort made by her specifically, I love these two so much I wanna I wanna scream into a pillow!!!!!!

Oscar has laughed so rarely since his first appearance and all of it has been really reserved...

I think about The Little Prince story and how one of the most important parts of his character, one of the things that lingers with the aviator the longest, is the prince's laugh. And I have to wonder if we'll ever see him actually smile so big or laugh so freely at some point. I have to wonder how Ruby would feel getting to see him so unburdened for once? I think if anyone could get him to laugh like that, she stands a pretty good chance.

[bitchfitch]

I've started playing Potion Permit, and so far it's one of my favorite games I've messed around with, but the most big brained move the devs made was giving you a dog on day 1, and then making that dog able to track NPCs and lead you directly to them no matter where they are in the town.

[merely-a-player]

i've been playing outer wilds and what a wild fucking game let me tell you

[mer-se]

cousin it in her element 🏰

[beepeircings]

" Welcome to my shop , if you want to buy ships that last you a lifetime or..... canonballs to destroy those ships , you came to the right place. All your needs will be met, sailor ~ "

[kallistersbullshit]

this is what happens to dca fic writers

[throwaway-settings]

biting. biting. biting.

[a-room-of-my-own]

I went to get some highlights and I’m not happy about them so I’m going to have to go to my regular hairdresser and tell her I cheated on the salon during my vacation 🥹