#haven't quite decided what the bear is yet

[eruden-writes]

Choosing the Bear - Preview

Just another attempt to kickstart my writing juice again. x_x

Used the (now) age-old question: Would you choose to be alone with a man or a bear in the middle of the woods?

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

If you found yourself at night in a forest – somewhere that made bumfuck nowhere look like New York City – would you choose to be alone with a man or a bear?

Bambi Rose Barker was stuck in the middle of both answers. Literally.

She stood stock still, eyes wide, chest heaving and aching for air while her stomach lurched. Moments earlier – or maybe half an hour ago, she couldn’t tell – she had managed to escape her kidnapper’s cabin with the man hot at her heels. It had been a mad dash through the night, dressed in only a tank top and a pair of daisy duke shorts and choking down pain as her bare feet slammed over rocks, branches, and uneven terrain.

Luckily, a full moon cast light over the world, so Bambi wasn’t exactly stumbling without sight. Fumbling through the forest without shoes was still a bitch on the soles, but she simply gritted her teeth and continued forth.

When she caught sight of the bear a few yards ahead, her racing feet and thoughts froze. She couldn’t really be seeing a bear, right? Under the moonlight and swirling starlight, she squinted. But it was hard to deny that the bright white creature was anything but a bear.

Her adrenaline shifted from fleeing her pursuer as she slowed to calculating whether ursine or man was a larger threat.

Behind her, the man howled as he tromped through the mountainside forest, “Bambi, get back here! I just wanna talk things out!”

It wasn’t the first time she’d had a man chasing her with a shotgun. Growing up in the country, with little to do except get in trouble, Bambi and a group of friends often found themselves running off into the dark, being threatened by an angry elder with a shot gun.

The man tailing at her heels wasn’t crochety Mrs. Jenkins, who was more bark than actual bullet.

No, she was well-acquainted with Duke Walker. They’d grown up in the same town and known each other forever.

There was one key difference between Duke and the other men of Hartwell: his family owned the little town. By and large, he was better off than most people in Barfield and he got away with a whole helluva lot more than the average folk.

Which included stalking, as Bambi had learned over the last two years of their separation. He was about to add kidnapping and possibly murder to the list, as well.

But Duke was a human. A five-foot-eleven-inch human that might have a chance to be reasoned with.

Whereas the bear…

The rest of this part is available right now on my Patreon.

[themultifanshipper]

Hello.

I have a question to ask. Are you up for a honeymoon fic Landoscar? With a lot of spicy things, hehe.

<3

When Oscar and Lando had woken up severely hungover that first morning after getting married at the Vegas GP, they knew they had made the right choice.

The only problem was how the hell they were going to go on their honeymoon without arousing suspicion.

Gonna go waterboard myself in holy water now brb

Warnings: Lando makes Oscar cry, but in a sexy way, sunburns, handjob, that’s it that's the plot, under negotiated everything, edging, Oscar being in denial, cum, facial, they're both fucking freaks

They got married on 20/11/2023 at 4:12 AM in the little Vegas Chapel after the Grand Prix. It was perfect (they barely remembered it) and the only people there were Alex and Logan (the best men) and the priest (who they had to track down later and make him sign an NDA).

All in all a brilliant night.

And the proof of consummation was… well, all over them and the sheets when they woke up.

How fucking romantic.

It was now a year on from that and they still hadn't been on their honeymoon.

They were determined though. But being in the public eye made any vacationing together quite hard.

So they decided to wait. Wait long enough that if they were seen, it would be reasonable to assume it was just a mates trip to a private Island.

They were currently on said private Island one morning, limbs tangled on a sunbed, sipping some pretty strong cocktails.

“What do you want to do today?”

“I don't care as long as I'm with you”

They giggled and a slap resounded on the empty beach.

“I hate you”

“That's not what you were saying last night when I had you-”

“Okay okay! I get it!”

Disgusting.

After another hour of lounging around, Lando untangled his limbs from Oscar's and got up to get more drinks.

“You want anoth- holy shit Osc!”

His eyes widened as he turned and took in his husband’s (he'd never get tired of saying that) appearance.

“What?” Oscar sat up, confused.

Oscar’s front was a similar shade of red as a lobster, the contrast in skin between his front and back making him look like a vanilla strawberry ice cream.

“Oscar you-” Lando couldn't contain his laughter “you forgot to put cream on again!”

Lando put his hand on Oscar's thigh and Oscar gasped in pain.

“Shit baby we need to go put something on that, let's go”

Oscar ended up laying on his back while Lando straddled his midsection and rubbed Aloe over his face and chest.

“Ah!” he hissed as a hand went over a patch of particularly red skin “careful where you put your bear paws!”

Lando laughed and squirted some more cream on his hands.

“Sorry baby, but it needs to be done. Besides you love my bear paws, especially when I put them on your-”

“Jesus, do you ever shut up!” Oscar laughed and Lando gasped at his meanness.

“Don't be mean to me when I'm helping you out!”

Oscar’s hands came up to cup Lando's ass over his shorts and squeeze lightly.

“You love it when I'm mean though, don't lie.”

“Oh yeah?” Lando smiled playfully “I can be mean too you know”

Oscar couldn't help the snort that escaped him. “Yeah right, I'll believe that when I see it, you’re just too sweet”

“I am not!” he tried to defend but Oscar just laughed at him “You just haven't seen my bad side, yet”

Oscar cackled and shot a look of disbelief at Lando.

Lando raised his eyebrows in challenge and shuffled backwards onto Oscar's thighs, making sure to rub against his crotch on the way.

“Shut up and let me finish putting the cream on” he scowled as he squirted a load straight onto Oscar's hot skin moodily.

“Aw… are you getting stroppy now because I laughed at you, baby?” Oscar cooed, hands reaching for Lando but he slapped them away.

“Touche me, or say another word, and I stop completely, understand?”

Oscar nodded, eyebrows almost fused with his hairline at Lando's harsh tone.

“And we'll see just how fucking mean I can be” the older man growled.

Well shit.

Lando quickly rubbed cream over Oscar's burns, before sitting back and ordering him to take his shorts off.

“Pardon?” Oscar wasn't used to being ordered around.

“If I have to repeat myself then I'll take them off, and I’m not going to be gentle”

That's a point, Oscar thought. He didn't want to take any chances with the burns so he peeled them off himself, making sure to give his skin a wide birth.

Once settled back into the sheets, Lando grabbed more cream and started rubbing it around Oscar's crotch, which was unnecessary given that the skin there was free of burns thanks to his shorts. But Lando apparently decided to turn this into a massage, because he was digging his thumbs into Oscar’s flesh, hard enough to make him groan at the feeling.

Then he dug his thumbs into Oscar's adductor muscles and the younger man yelped and stared daggers at him.

“What's the matter, baby?” Lando asked mockingly, “Am I going too hard for you?”

His eyes were inviting him to a challenge, one he knew Oscar wouldn't back down from.

Oscar shook his head, remembering Lando's warning from before, and quickly settled back down.

This was a new side to Lando. And it was getting Oscar a bit hot and bothered as his husband just carried on massaging/torturing him. The idea of being at his husband's mercy was turning him on enormously.

His dick twitched against his stomach and Lando chuckled.

“Careful Osc, one could think being submissive is turning you on” his voice was full of mirth but Oscar refused to acknowledge him, and stared at the ceiling while shaking his head.

“No? Must be mistaken then”

He continued along Oscar's groin, massaging the cream in and rubbing him in all the right places.

When Lando cupped his balls and pressed on his perineum at the same time, Oscar let out a strangled gasp.

He was dripping, he could feel it. But he refused to give Lando the satisfaction of asking him to touch him.

“You want me to stop Osc?” Lando had a teasing lilt to his voice. Oscar shook his head.

“If you want me to touch you all you have to do is be a good boy and say ‘please”

But Oscar, by some twisted sense of ego, refused to give in so he didn't answer.

Lando laughed softly and ran a finger up Oscar's cock, making the younger man shudder and his hips buck up of their own volition.

“That looks painful, Osc”

“Then fucking touch it”

Lando’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Not until you say please”

“Please” Oscar huffed out.

Lando tutted. “That wasn't very convincing, Osc.” His fingers ran along the tip and back down over his balls, but Oscar just about managed to stay impassive. He looked right into Lando's eyes.

“If you want me to say please you're going to have to do better than that”

Lando grinned like a Cheshire cat.

“Oh honey, I'm not going to stop until you're begging”

The look in his eyes was predatory and Oscar almost caved then and there.

But on principal, Oscar did not beg.

Cut to about 30 minutes later and Oscar was whimpering into his arm as Lando placed kitten licks on his dripping tip.

“Still not desperate enough to say please?”

Oscar just growled “nope” but it was so strained Lando barely heard it.

“Fine, maybe I need to try a different approach, then”

Oscar looked on as Lando grabbed the cream and squirted some straight onto Oscar’s cock.

Oscar hissed at the cold, but it was nothing compared to the feeling of Lando's large hand engulfing his cock and immediately starting a fast, tight, pace.

Oscar was writhing at the sudden intense pleasure after so long being teased, and he was having trouble getting air in his lungs as he hurdled towards an orgasm in record time.

His toes curled and his back arched as he felt the orgasm creep up his spine.

But just like that the feeling was replaced by a very tight hold around the base of his cock, the release his body craved ripped away from him.

“No! Lan-”

“Shhh, baby” Lando cooed “It's okay, I’ve got you”

While Oscar slowly came down from his almost-release, Lando reapplied some cream to make the slide as wet as possible, then proceeded to start stroking Oscar at the same pace as before, this time adding extra pressure.

Oscar was openly whining now, hands gripping the sheets so hard it’s shocking they weren't tearing.

“Now, I'm going to do that over and over again until you’re a good boy for me, okay”

Oscar couldn't contain the whine that came out of his mouth. He was getting close again and his eyes were filling up with tears at the white hot pleasure.

“Please” he let out a broken sob as his thighs started clenching with his impending orgasm.

“Oh you can do better than that, Osc” Lando’s pace didn't falter.

“Fuck- please Lan, I'll do anything. I need to come so bad, please, please. Please don't stop…” he was openly sobbing now, tears running down his cheeks as he took shuddering breaths.

He was so beautiful and pliant like this, Lando was unbelievably hard. He took pity on him and allowed him to come, other hand going to massage his balls for good measure.

“Good boy, Oscar. You can come now, go on.”

Oscar screamed as he came, hot spurts of his come landing over his abs and all the way up to his chin.

The sight of him, covered in his own cum, flush deepening the red of his burns, gasping for air, almost made Lando come on the spot.

He shuffled over to Oscar's head and pushed his shorts down to jerk himself off furiously.

“Open your mouth, tongue out” he ordered, grabbing Oscar’s jaw and aiming for his tongue.

It took him no time at all to come, and most of it landed on Oscar's cheeks and chin. It was absolutely sinful, the way his face was streaked with come, tongue hanging out, eyes unfocused, he looked like a sick man's dream.

Fortunately, Lando was a sick man.

“Shit Osc, I can't believe it took me this long to find out you’re a good little slut when you want to be”

Oscar took a long time to reply, trying to regulate his breathing.

When he finally did, a low growl came from his side of the bed.

“As soon as I get the feeling back in my legs, I'm going to fuck you until the sun sets, and I'm not giving you any breaks, no matter how many times you come”

Lando glanced at the clock.

It was only 1 pm…

Shit.

[knavesflames]

I come bearing an ask

Here me out: Arlecchino x pregnant!reader (who was already unsure if she wanted to go thru w the pregnancy + was scared of her body changing) where

Reader is in early pregnancy and she's starting to show a bit of a bump, BUT her and Arle haven't told anyone. So, one day while they're out, they encounter either 1 of Reader's family members or just someone she knows and they make a comment about her weight gain unknowingly which leads to reader uncontrollably crying

What does Arle do in that situation? Beat em up? Tend to her wife? A bit of both? Maybe threaten them?

Thank you for taking the time to read this!!! And thank you again if you consider write it!!

Hi! Sorry this has taken so long to get to, I have a major backlog of requests and I like to go in chronological order if I can. Anyway, here it is. I’ve never been pregnant or really around anyone who has been so I have NO idea how this works sorry 😭

Word count: 733

Contents: fluff, pregnant reader

UTC!

The day you realised your period was late was a day you’re sure you’ll remember forever. The dread you felt as you drove to the store as quickly as possible, practically slamming the box onto the counter as you paid. Then, of course, the wait. How stupid, you think. To have pissed on a stick and wait anxiously for some lines. Lines that could possibly change your life. You didn’t really want that. You’ve not wanted that, not since you were a teen, when you became conscious of your body. You swore you’d never get pregnant, you couldn’t deal with your body changing. You know you couldn’t.

Then, the wait was over, and the result was not what you wanted. You remember how your hands trembled as thousands of different thoughts ran through your head. You remember sitting on the toilet lid with your head in your hands for hours until you heard the soft click of the front door. The way you told her, your voice weak, your eyes filled with uncertainty, is something Arlecchino won’t forget.

She reassured you that whatever you chose was okay, that if you didn’t want to go through with it then she’d support you, and the same if you decided you wanted to go through with it. You spent a week deciding, but when you were in the city, your eyes caught a glimpse of the smallest little baby socks and your already growing maternal instincts kicked in instantly. The second you came home, you announced you wanted to keep it, though after conversation, you admitted you were scared. She promised that even when your body changed, she’d love you regardless. That anyone who commented would face her wrath. You knew she was serious, too.

So, of course, that brings you to the day when your bump starts showing. Arlecchino is in love with it, her hand resting on it whenever you’re sat together, her arm shielding you whenever you go outside if she senses danger. And she’s snapped at a person or two when they’ve bumped into you. Her sense of danger has been warped into whatever could possibly harm you and the child, though neither of you have told anyone yet. Your request, she’d tell the world if she could. She relaxes a bit when you meet an old friend, someone you haven’t met in years. You were quite close, she recalls. Even so, she stays by your side, listening to your conversation with a polite hum in response when she’s asked a question. Her ears perk up though, when the conversation takes a turn.

“Mm, you’ve gotten a little pudgy, haven’t you? Swollen in the face a bit, too. Cute.” A harmless comment usually, but for you, it’s a blow, and she knows it. She knows it the second the words are spoken, the way your face falls and your hands cover yourself. The way your eyes fall to the floor and your attempt at laughing. Your laugh is strained, though, your voice thick. Another ten seconds, and cue an outburst of tears. This is exactly what you didn’t want, for people to comment on your weight gain. For you, it’s been the worst symptom of them all. Arlecchino’s arm immediately wraps around you, her voice cold.

“Do not talk about someone’s body in such a manner. You should not be commenting on anyone’s body anyway, let alone her’s. You’ve known her for years, haven’t you? You should know how sensitive she is to comments like that,” between your tears, you can hear her speaking, almost snarling. She’s always been protective, but perhaps she’s gotten even more so since the news. “If I ever hear you speak about her in such a way again, if you ever make her shed another tear, I will break you. Understand?”

The old friend is quick to apologise and scurry off, leaving you, a tearful mess, and a sighing Arlecchino. Placing soft kisses into your hair, she strokes your arm, thinking of a way she can make you feel better. She opts to whisper all the good things about gaining weight while pregnant until she sees your tears stop.

“Now, do you want that craving we originally came out here for?” She asks, a smile tugging at her lips when you immediately nod and start complaining about how you really can’t live without peanut butter and pickles.

[shuenkio]

Camera Boy | Yjw ✯

Paring: Jungwon x Male!reader | Genre: Suggestive

Synopsis: Your best friend found out you're doing "that" for a living but why did he keep quiet, and wanted to be the one who made you crazy under his touch instead?

Cw: camboy, cursing, moaning, overstimulated, mentioned of cum, masturbate. 18+ no smut

Non proof read | Eng is not my first.

This is a work of fanfiction, do not throw unnecessary tantrums on this nsfw/sfw blog. ©Shuenkio

AN: Was bored and decided to do the request even tho I said next week lol. Again I haven't written anything for the past 2 weeks so mistakes can be seen and a lil awkward.

Life as a cam boy while in college was quite interesting, since the college fee was sky rocket you couldn't help but to help yourself, with anything. So that's when you found out there's something to do with your body, ofc the app where you can make money, to pay off your debt.

Talking about college, you have made a friend wherein you call him Jungwon, ever since the first year. He was there, hang out with you, eat with you, do anything with you not to mention he loves to give you a free cuddle session whenever he feels lonely. —

Everything was so perfect, your life was blooming, nothing is in your way not when, one day, your very bestie Jungwon, found out your darkest secrets. He caught your live stream on that app, while jerking off yourself in front of the camera as your face covers in a mask to hide your identity. Then how did he know it was you? Well, there's no other than your voice, also the room you were in, it was indeed your room. You don't like people touching your stuff unless it was him only Jungwon, which rings the bell.

However there is nothing really getting out of hand, Jungwon actually seems to enjoy it and not against it? It is a miracle. Yet he kept his mouth zipped, waiting for the perfect moment. Low-key wanted to be the one and only who makes your squirm and shaken under his touch.

One evening after you finish all of your classes, you head back to the dorm, exhausted and mentally wanted to lay down all day.

As you open the door, and get inside, you drag your feet to lay down on the couch a bit before doing anything, not until you see Jungwon place a glass of water on the table in front of you, to cold you down. Actually it caught you off guard that he was wearing nothing, nothing at all.

"wooah, Jungwon... What are you?" You said, cover your eyes with your small palm. Jungwon furrowed his eyebrows confused.

"what am I? I'm Jungwon duh, ohh you talk about this, yeah it's too hot, the AC broke" he explains innocently. Seeing you all red ears only to fuel him even more, as he is swinging his dick round and round. This kid is different for real.

Can't help but to flush and paint in red, you can't bear to see him all naughty like this, laterally not a teddy bear at all.

"ok- Jungwon that's enough, at least put on some pants"

"oh make me!! Lol but, if you really want me to pant on, you gotta owe me something"

"something? What something? You can't be serious Jungwon, t-that thing is too big in my face" you claim, feel a bit amused and also distracted at the same time, why is he so big, it was the size of your wrist already.

"I know what you did m/n" Jungwon spit out, at first you thought it was nothing, but once it click you feel goosebumps from the top to the bottom of your toes.

"What did I do ? Jungwon?" Nervously, try to be clueless in case you get the wrong idea, however guess what, Jungwon responds with giggles instead.

"you make money on live didn't you, Cam boy?" Smirking on the corner of his lip, the sweet and cute Jungwon was nowhere to be seen, he discovered your darkest secrets already? No damn way, now what should you do, begging for his mercy?

"uh- no you're wrong Jungwon, I did not"

"oh how can you explain this" in a swift move, Jungwon pulled out his phone and showed him the Livestream you did last week, you seen your legs are rest on the chair, spreading open, as you masturbate for the audience, moaning and quivering. Now the moment is real, the cat got your tongue, you are dead for real, panic and trembling is not the right word to represent, it was more than that.

"Jungwon listen, please don't tell anybody, I'm doing that because of my collage please I'll do anything!!" Stuck in the cage at this state, you drop down to your knee, begging for Jungwon to spare your whole life. Would he have some pity and give it to you?

///

The room was filled with wet sound and moaning in pleasure, just like you did in your previous Livestream, leg open wide rest on the chair arm, and facing the camera. It's just a bit different this time, today it's not you who is giving yourself some love, but Jungwon is giving you a helping hand, yes he's the one who is jerking you off this time.

"FUCK babe, you're so good a-at this" falling into the world of ecstasy, you cries out, your dick is being dominated by your bestie which you have to call him by nickname on Livestream to avoid being recognized. Jungwon wrapped around your dick, stroking it nonstop, as the lube did their job. On the other hand, Jungwon also jerks off himself too, groaning softly under his breath.

"yes babe, moaning all of that for me" with that, he increased the pace of both, stroking his huge cock and your dick in the same rhyme, chasing for the climax. It was intense and erotic as Jungwon's cock kept throbbing

And begging for the release, same goes to you. The wet sound continues louder and louder as time passes by, both balls keep slapping against each other's thighs, along with cursing, and trembling follow under these hot sessions.

"holy shit m/n, I feel it, I feel it's coming fuck fuck fuck Aghh"

"Nghh"

Soon enough, Jungwon who was standing, arching his hip forward before a load of heat cum shot straight in your face. His eyes rolling to the back of his brain, took all the pleasurable feelings. You also came undone, soaking on your gamer chair.

Overwhelmed for the first time in a while of masturbating, Jungwon couldn't stand straight on his feet, after an intense moment, before hitting on the floor suddenly. End with that, as you finally catch your breath steady, you quickly end the live, laughing at your friend who was passed out on the ground. It's really funny, even his cock is given up on him too.

"that was some nice shit isn't it? Again, thank you for all your support, special thanks to my love who joined us for today, that's all for now see you late!!"

Reblog and like is much appreciated ♥

Crd to all the owner dividers and pics.

Special thanks to my loyal reader for this request !

[miss-vanta-likes-to-write]

He Canceled Hot Girl Summer 🔥

18+ mdni series master list

13 months ago...

The night that the birth control decided to fail...|

You were laughing with Aaliyah over something stupid as the two of you waited at the bar to order your drinks. Well, actually, the topic of the moment was seeing Jay get hit on by a guy who clearly didn't know that she wears a strap. Maybe the poor drunken man thought Jay was just a tomboy or didn't know what a stud was, but she didn't complain as her drinks were being paid for.

“She's fucking awful! I hope that poor man knows what he's asking for.” You shouted with laughter, flipping your hair over your shoulder. There was a brief sound of someone going careful and a hand being placed on your waist. “Huh?” You turned and were met with the prettiest blue eyes you've ever seen.

“ ‘areful where ye swing tha hair lassie.” The man with which the blue eyes belonged to had given you a teasing grin, “ ‘lmost took ma eye out.” His accent was thick, and if you didn't have practice with understanding your brother-in-law's Baltimore accent, you would have been lost.

“Why are you close enough to get hit by her hair?” Aaliyah snarked. Her lip was turned up, and eyebrows raised.

“Nae need tae get tha claws out, just tryn’ ta get a pint!” He glanced at Aaliyah and then back at you.

“Well I'm sorry for almost taking out your eye handsome, it'd be a shame for you to lose it.” You make no move to hide that you find him attractive with the way you look him over. You turn to face him completely, ignoring how your friend huffs indignantly. “Let me make it up to you by buying you a shot.”

“Innit ‘posed ta be tha other way ‘round?” He asks as he leaned into you. He still hadn't taken his hand off of you and instead pulled you in closer to him.

You hummed and nodded your head and introduced yourself to him, and in turn, he told you to call him Johnny. The shots got ordered along with your insanely sweet drink and his beer.

“My friends and I are gonna be bar hopping tonight, we're just waiting on my brother and one more friend to get here.” You told him you're practically sitting in his lap at the bar. Standing between his legs closely and enjoying his warmth. You've already made your mind up that he was going home with you.

He cuts a nice figure, fine with well built muscles, and that fucking mohawk and the stubble that's not quite a beard yet. He's ruggedly good-looking but also has that boyish charm. It's in the way he speaks to you that lures you in, because he's funny too and that's your downfall. You've always loved a clown because truth be told if a guy couldn't make you laugh, he couldn't make you wet, and that's just a fact.

“Ye're gonnae be hopping in those heels?” He looks down at your platform pumps and laughs, “Ye're more likely to break an ankle in those.”

“Johnny!” You giggled and ran your fingers through his hair, “you're fucking stupid.”

“I could be fuckin’ ye stupid.” He fires back, his voice low. His eyes are half lidded, and you suspect they haven't left your lips or boobs for the better part of the conversation.

You're stunned for a moment and sip your drink, trying your best to get your bearings. Not one to be showed up and flustered so easily an idea pops into your head. At some point, he said that fruity drinks were mostly sugar, insulting your precious sex on the beach. You take another sip of your drink and then kiss him, shoving your tongue and the liquid into his mouth.

Johnny is shocked for a second before he kisses you back with just as much excitement. Both hands rest on your ass and he squeezes. A groan coming from deep within his chest. When you pulled away, you nipped at his bottom lip and smiled at him. The energy between you two was efficiently charged, a promise of what was to come.

“Come with me and my friends tonight, my friend Rosette needs some company, bring the pretty boy you're here with.” You say, “and then when I inevitably break my ankle in my heels, you can carry me home.”

Johnny only grins, “sure thing bonnie.”

Chapter 2: A year later, and he's finally in your DMs📨

The Hot Bitch Club🔥💖🔥GC

Aaliyah: Bitch! Check ur Insta😠 NEOW

Rosette: srry bby in advance, I couldn't stop her 😔

Jay: I sat back and watched. Ngl😁

You: 🤨 wth? Ain't yall out partying?

You had just put your sweet baby down for the night, and part of you was praying he'd stay asleep for a while. There were plans to catch up on your shows and finally do something to your hair. The last four months have definitely been an adjustment. For all the blessing Omari was, he certainly didn't take his little foot off your neck. He was already particular about everything in his little life. He has just discovered his own little feet and gets angry when he thinks you have taken away his toes with the introduction of socks and booties.

Omari really is just spoiled. He's the first baby in your family since your youngest brother and he's treated like a little king. Your father wasn't too happy that you had him, even more unhappy when you refused to come home back to the States. Your reasoning is that you weren't giving up your dream job that you managed to snag a year ago, and your employer did not want to let you go. So, thus, it became the reality of your family visiting as often as they could. And they made it a point to spoil this infant rotten. When the girls are around, you don't even think he sits on his own ass.

But that's besides the point because right now you are quickly scrolling through your Instagram notifications and seeing a barrage of likes and all of them are from either ‘KG_KG’ or ‘Tavishstation’ and all of them are on photos of you and Omari. Then a message pops up from the user Tavishstation.

Tavishstation: Bonnie lass, uh yea, is he mine?

You: I'm srry, what now? Who is this? Quickly.

Tavishstation: it's me Johnny MacTavish from a year ago…

You stare in pure shock and immediately click the profile. Immediately, your body goes cold as you stare and scroll through the feed of the hot, funny, and freak nasty guy that left you with Omari. They had the same blue eyes, and while Omari was on track for much more curly hair, the color was even the same. The feed was filled with the life of an army soldier, photos of gun ranges, army fatigues, and group pictures with what you assume to be colleagues. Dotted between those snapshots of work life were pictures of his family, large gatherings, sisters and brothers, cousins, and fuck he was Catholic? Not that that was a bad thing, but you could already hear the headache of your GiGi going “Omari is AME, he needs an old fashioned baptism, hell the white suit is already bought.”

You: Johnny! It's great to hear from you! 😅

Tavishstation: 🤨🤨🤨 why didnae ya tell me?

You: boy! You did what sneaky links are supposed to do! Sneak outta my house before I woke up! 🙄

You: 🤔🤔Also, explain to me how I was supposed to find you when all I knew was that your name was Johnny and you hunch like a dog in rut?

Tavishstation: really that's all you remembered about me? Can't say I'm not happy about that 😉

You: 🙄 sir…please be serious I beg.

The little typing bubble is reappearing and disappearing for several seconds. He's seemingly trying to get his thoughts together. To calm your nerves you get up and start flipping through Hulu, anything to ease the tension in your body. You didn't plan on reconnecting with Johnny, you didn't even think you'd hear from him again. Hell, you didn't even think about dating as your baby and career came first. Long nights working and early days running yourself ragged. Daycare drop offs and pick-ups, juggling meetings with your boss, and an endless stream of trying to find time for sleep. The thought of finding a husband or even a fuck buddy fell to the wayside.

Tavishstation: Look, I know that this is sudden. I really am just as surprised as when I found out from your friend Aaliyah. I had to practically beg her for a way to contact you. I don't want you to think I'm the type of man who shirks on his responsibilities, and Omari and you are my responsibility now. I'm on leave for a while, and I would like to meet him and see you and just kinda figure out where to go from here. Maybe we could get a paternity test?

You stared at the message and agitation slowly crept up your spine. A DNA test? They shared the same eyes, Omari even had his father's big head. You should know, you had to push him out of you!

You: a dna test? bsffr John. 😒😑

You: you and him have the same face and eyes. The nose may be mine but everything else is all you.

Tavishstation: nae bonnie, I want it so I can sign the birth certificate. Trust I see that he's my clone.

You: look, John I don't need you to sign anything, especially if you're doing this out of obligation and not cause you genuinely want to. The last thing I wanna do is go through the courts and shit should you decide you don't wanna play Daddy anymore. Let's just save us all the headache.

Tavishstation: Bonnie lass

Tavishstation: gimme a chance plz? We can co-parent and I'll follow ur rules and everything.

You take a screenshot of the conversation and send it to Rosette privately. She's the only one who has ever kept a level head, and after you sent one to your older brother Autumn. He would have a more invested cause in this new development seeing as how he was the Omari's godfather.

Rosette: he has a right to try girlie. Give him a chance.

You: idk, I don't wanna deal with a sometime parent.

Rosette: he didn't know and when he found out he got sick and vomited on Aaliyah's shoes. He really did beg. We broke down and gave him your insta.

With the chat with Autumn it was only one sentence.

Autumn: don't bring him to the crib. We will meet him together in public. Dad and Mom would not be happy about this if I let you meet him alone.

You flip back to Instagram and see that Johnny sent additional messages.

Tavishstation: I didnae upset ye?

Tavishstation: of course we'll do it all on your terms bonnie.

You: fine. Tomorrow is Sunday. We can meet in public for brunch with my brother Autumn.

Tavishstation: can I have your number? 🥺

You: 🙄 fine.

You send him your number and not even thirty seconds later your messages ding. It's him.

Johnny: Thanks my little bird

You: did you just call me a bird?

Johnny: yea tha a problem

You: these cultural differences between us will get you cut wide open. Don't let my friends hear you say that.🙄🙄🙄

Johnny: OH yeah! Thas an insult to you americans 😂

You: look, here's the address to where we are meeting in the morning. Let's try to keep it all low key?

Johnny: I'll try, but I'm meeting my son and seeing my girl. There will be tears and none of it will be low-key. 😊☺️

You: imma stop ✋🏾 you right there. We are not doing the whole me fucking my baby daddy thing. We are co-parenting should this work out.

Johnny: 🙂🫠 if you say soooo

You: 🙄😒 night John.

Johnny: night Bonnie, kiss our bairn for me. 😘

On Johnny's end, he's back on base. Part of him can't sleep and he's wishing for Sunday morning to hurry up and get here. He's got a bairn, a wean, a little him just out in the world. He missed all of the pregnancy, and he wondered if he would have been any good at that part.

When he got back to base that night, he was still in a state of shock. Kyle only patted him on the back and said that they were all with him no matter what. Simon just shook his head, mumbling something about “you gotta take one out of Captain's book and keep them very well hidden.”

It was John who had the most sensible advice, always like a father to him. He had taken him outside before he sent his initial message. Lit a cigar and offered him one too.

“You need to decide before you go barging too eagerly into their lives. That girl and her baby have been fine without you so far.” John took a drag of his cigar to let the words sink in.

“Am I not supposed to want to be a part of their lives?” Johnny finally asked. He didn't really smoke cigars, preferring other leaves when he was alone with Kyle. But the taste grounded him and took the edge off.

“I'm saying that you need to offer her and your son something that other people, her family, can't give her. You need to be consistent and honest about who you are and what you do. We've got enemies to high heaven and back kid. Won't do her any good if she can't make an informed decision.” John is speaking from experience, his own wife is a testament to how carefully he keeps that part of his life hidden.

Johnny lays in his bed, scrolling through your Instagram page. It's littered in photos of the past year. Ultrasound photos, candid pictures of you holding your baby bump, an elaborate and fun baby shower that he wished he and his family had been part of. Omari is perfect, all gummy smiles and blue eyes that match his own. It's like looking into a mirror. He scrolls to a picture a little farther back, careful not to double tap and like anything. He finds what he is looking for, a photo of him and you from when you first met.

It was the two of you mostly sober before the body shots started. He was sitting at the bar, and you were sitting in his lap. The two of you looked like a perfect couple, and he remembers that moment clearly. He thought about it during his year away and imagined that he had a girl waiting for him back home. You had kissed him and made him drink that fruity drink of yours, and it made his stomach flip. Such a pretty brown bonnie wanted his attention, and he really thought you were the prettiest bird in the bar that night. There was something there, hidden beneath the flirtatious touches and kisses, behind the teasing words and slurred praises, even after the heat of sex cooled into sweet kisses and cuddles.

He should have stayed a little longer and dealt with the chewing out from John and Simon.

He had a chance to get what he wanted this time around. He hopes you feel that spark again, and then everything will snap into place.

Tag list: @evergreenlake @royalty-cashinout @leahnicole1219

[patrice-bergerons]

Quick FAQ on Tumblr, "Value", and the Proposed Crab Day

Motivation: I see a lot of misinformation circulating on the dash re the proposed crab day and I wanted to offer a simplified and judgement free perspective using core principles of finance.

Q: We keep being told that tumblr's been making nothing but a loss for years, and yet, if it is so unprofitable, then why is no one is shutting the website down? Is it really in need of our money if it's already owned by a multi-billion dollar corporation?

This is in fact not as much of a paradox as it appears to be because "value" in corporate finance terms is a function of present and expected future profits (adjusting for the fact that profits you expect to be earn in the near future are worth a lot more than equivalent profits expected to be earned much later in time).

This means that you can have a company or a product that is currently making a loss (i.e. costing a lot more to run than the income it generates) and it might still be worth some (or a lot of) money as long as you expect it to generate enough profits going forward. Uber for example has been making a loss for years and is still valued at billions of dollars because people think it will eventually generate a lot of profit.

Q: What does all of that mean for tumblr, specifically?

Given how unprofitable tumblr has been historically it's actually a pretty good sign that management has a plan to try and make it profitable because it means they haven't thrown in the towel yet!

But if they fail or if they decide that no matter what they do tumblr will remain unprofitable, then they wouldn't have much business incentive to keep running it. This is why participating in crab day or spending some money on tumblr in general is a good idea, if you can afford it and if tumblr is a service you would like to keep enjoying into the future. And if the answer is no to either of those questions, that's ok too--don't let anyone guilt you on this.

Even more questions-and-answers under the cut! My inbox is also open for any (good faith) questions you might have.

Q: But we all use tumblr religiously--isn't that enough?

Not quite. Tumblr's current state means that the existing userbase is not enough to make the site profitable. For that to change, either the existing userbase needs to become more profitable, or tumblr needs to get a lot more new users--or have a combination of both.

Q: Can crab day really solve all this?

Once again, not quite. A one time cash-injection is not equal to sustainable income, which is what tumblr ultimately needs. This means tumblr will still need to court potential new users and that entails some change to the design and/or the perception of the site. (I love tumblr but guys, if we are real for a second, last time I told my coworkers that, they asked me if I also had a myspace account.)

Q: So why participate then?

Because it will still help. While some change is inevitable and necessary, if we the existing users put our money where our mouth is, it would send a strong signal to management that we value the service they offer and that they should take our preferences into account in designing the site's future also. Also some cash, even if it is a one time deal,

Q: I heard people who came up with the idea are transphobic Christian fundies--do you really want to associate with people like that?

I don't. But who the blogs behind this idea, as people, are has no bearing on the merits of the idea itself.

[whitedovebby]

— TLC

Spencer x fem!nurse!reader

TW - Brief mentions of a child vomiting and a blood test?

WC - 1,176 (proofread, but there may still be mistakes).

Genre - Fluff, fluff, fluff! Soft, nurturing Spencer, literally mostly plotless and just a self-indulgent idea that popped into my head, so I decided to write it. Please bear in mind that I haven't written/published anything in a loooong time, and it's my first actual published Spencer fic, so feedback is so so appreciated! If you read it, I hope you enjoy it. I really enjoyed doing this! ♡

(Disclaimer: I know nothing about being a nurse other than what my mother has told me in the past, and she mentioned that the 'easier' days can sometimes be hard, too).

Summary: After a challenging day at work, Spencer gives you a little much-needed care.

---

Fatigue seeps its way into your body, flowing through your muscles in the form of tight aches that linger incessantly between your shoulder blades, across your lower flanks, and all the way down to the soles of your feet. You feel stiff yet heavy, like a dead weight, and Spencer can tell as much as soon as you set foot into your shared apartment.

You’ve just arrived home after clocking off from a gruelling 12-hour ER shift - feeling mentally and physically drained from being rushed off your feet - and in desperate need of some TLC from your boyfriend.

“Welcome home, angel,” Spencer greets, watching you slip your feet out of your plimsolls and hang your jacket on the coat hook. You turn toward him and offer a half-smile, to which he immediately responds with a sympathetic one.

“Rough shift?” He asks.

“You don’t even know how rough,” you reply, dragging your heavy body across the living room to the couch, where Spencer sits, legs folded with a book resting on them. Flopping down beside him, you tip your head back against the backrest and let out a long sigh. “If it wasn’t a kid with a fever puking all over my scrubs, it was a stubborn old guy arguing with his wife over refusing ‘unnecessary’ blood tests.”

While you rant away, Spencer closes his book and sets it on the coffee table, twisting his body to face you fully, leaning his back against the arm of the couch. Your eyes are closed, but you can feel the way his gaze drifts over you, taking you in in all your exhausted glory. He always puts all his attention on you whenever you’ve clearly had a rough day, and every time, it’s as if he’s trying to calculate the best way to ease some of your burdens.

“It wasn’t even like there were any severe cases today, but sometimes the ‘easy’ days are just as hard.”

Your eyes crack open, and you watch as Spencer reaches out to squeeze your shoulder gently, eliciting a slight hum of something between pain and appreciation.

“You’re all tense,” he muses, repeating that same little squeeze, and it’s then that you see the evidence of a thought flashing in his soft, brown eyes. “Take your top off.”

You let out a puzzled laugh when he instructs this out of nowhere. The instruction came quite far out of the left field. For a moment, you wonder if this is his idea of trying to tempt you into something physical, and if that’s the case, his timing couldn’t be worse. You’re sore and tired and gross-feeling. Not to mention absolutely starving. And after a moment’s pause, you start to speak.

“Spence, I’m not really–”

“That’s not what I’m thinking,” he cuts you off before you can even finish what you’d started, almost like he had read your mind. He can read you as well as one of his damn books sometimes. “I want to give you a shoulder rub,” he continues, rubbing his hands together and blowing into his cupped palms, presumably to warm them up. “So, take your top off and turn around. Please.”

You’re silent momentarily, staring at him and studying his face before a soft smile crosses your own. You feel a little foolish for assuming he was trying to get frisky with you when you’ve already made your fatigue as evident as you have. He’s too sweet for that.

With a soft nod and a quiet ‘alright,’ you sit forward and peel your tank top off over your head, setting it down on the empty space on the other side of you. After turning around so that your back faces him, you let your shoulders sag, the black strap of your t-shirt bra sliding down to hang loosely off the side of your arm.

A few short seconds pass, and then you feel Spencer’s nimble fingers brush your skin as he carefully pulls open the clasps of your bra, allowing the two halves to fall open. “This too,” he prompts softly, and you can hear the grin in his voice, making you grin too.

“After a day of saving lives, I think that’s all the excitement you need right now,” he mumbles, dipping his face to kiss the nape of your neck once. A shiver passes through you when his breath fans across your skin, and you smirk at his words.

“Right,” you huff through a giggle, shrugging your bra off, too, leaving it with your tank top. Spencer’s hands curve over your shoulders, beginning a tender yet firm petrissage with his fingers and thumbs. You already feel like you’re melting, his touch adding just the right amount of pressure to your taut muscles, the knots slowly ebbing away.

“Does that feel good, angel?” He asks, feeling you sag under his ministrations, and you merely hum in response while your mind floats away, carried along by this moment of comforting bliss. “You can take that bun out of your hair when I'm done,” he says, “if I’m right in thinking you have a headache, that thing definitely isn’t helping… restricting all that blood flow with how tight you’ve got it. Your scalp must be crying.”

His thoughtful ramblings bring you back to the present with a light laugh. His constant combining of practicalities with his loving gestures warms your heart in an almost sickeningly sweet way. His way of loving you is just so uniquely Spencer, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Whatever you say, Doctor Reid,” you eventually respond, and there’s a playful edge to your voice, to which he responds with an extra little squeeze of your shoulders.

A comfortable silence falls, and you enjoy your boyfriend’s skilled hands as they soothe away some of your aches, but he soon speaks again, sharing with you the plan he’s organised in his head for how the rest of the night will go.

“After this, you can grab a shower… and I’ll cook you up something tasty and filling. Rossi recently gave me another one of his ‘famous Rossi family recipes’–”

A snort forces its way out of your nose at that, Spencer joining in with a chuckle before carrying on as if the concept of him cooking something recommended by Rossi isn’t wholly amusing.

“Then we can get into bed, and… you can get a decent night’s sleep.”

“Sounds exciting,” you remark, but there isn’t an ounce of genuine snark in your tone. In fact, you’re feeling somewhat spoiled in being so well looked after like this, even if you won’t admit it aloud.

“I’d hardly call it ‘saving lives’,” you argue, too stubborn to take his compliment as it is.

“Well, too bad you’re wrong,” Spencer retorts, smiling against your neck where his lips are still pressed. “You’re my little life-saving angel.”

All you can do is grin in response, biting back another whimsical retaliation and instead settling with, "I guess we'll just have to agree to disagree."

"Fine by me. I know I'm right, anyway."

[muddyorbsblr]

bigger than the whole sky [rtc what if…?]

'relinquish the crown' masterlist See my full list of works here!

BE WARNED SPOILERS FOR THE LOKI SEASON 2 FINALE AHEAD

Summary: What if…you'd broken Frigga's memory spell without Loki? | Your search for your husband leads you to a peculiar void beyond the Nine Realms, to a place that vaguely resembles the Tree of Life that you'd only read about in historical texts.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: angst with no happy ending in sight; this is in the RTC universe so…themes of incest if you squint; Loki S2 finale spoilers; slight violence in the beginning [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: gonna repeat it again…Loki S2 finale spoilers ahead; no prior reading of RTC is required to suffer enjoy reading this story

"I will ask you one final time, you sadistic hedonist," you panted, taking a moment to lean on Stormbreaker while the eccentric tyrannical leader of Sakaar laid bleeding on the ground. One hand clutched his abdomen where you'd struck him, the other gingerly held his broken nose.

This wasn't something that you enjoyed doing, putting others through pain. But knowing Loki's history with this Grandmaster long before you two had met was easing your worry somehow that you were doing something reprehensible. There were pains that your beloved, even after all the time you'd known each other prior to your betrothal and marriage, were not quite ready to share with you.

His time in Sakaar was among those pains.

That knowledge alone was enough to get you to stop catching your breath, marching over to the Grandmaster and pinning him to the ground with the end of your battle axe's handle.

"Where is Loki?"

"Lady, I already told you back in the viewing box, I haven't seen your u--Agh!" You pressed Stormbreaker's handle harder against a tender spot on his shoulder, his body visibly showing signs of surrender before he started tapping on the floor. "Alright I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he whined.

"Shall we try this again, then?" He did his best to nod his head, sighing heavily. "Where did you last see him?"

"I swear to you on my Champion's grave it's been millions of years for me here in Sakaar," he choked out, still audibly struggling to draw in his breath. "It was a time he didn't even know you yet. You probably hadn't even been born."

"So you truly bear no knowledge of my husband's whereabouts?"

"Your hus--I thought he was--"

"Mind your words, charlatan god." He let out another groan of pure agony as you pressed harder on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry! I--I really don't know where he is, Your Highness, I don't--"

"Then what use are you to me," you said darkly, another corner of your soul feeling ass if the lights had gone out. Another dead end.

You took a dagger out with your free hand, the Grandmaster's pleas of mercy sounding muffled as they fell on your dulled ears. Nothing he had to say could spare him now; to you, he was no longer a lead, a well lit path that could perhaps point you to where Loki had been all this time.

Now he was simply a shadow of your husband's past. Something so dark that he didn't even dare let you know about it.

Despair began to seep into your veins, a single question overtaking all other remotely coherent thought. Would you ever find him? Would you ever get to apologize? To tell him how you felt? How you'd always felt?

Before you could strike, a loud crack resounded throughout the Grandmaster's suite, coming from a glowing green portal that appeared in the center of the room.

"I would probably take that call, if I were you," the Grandmaster quipped, exhaling a large sigh of relief when you removed the weight of Stormbreaker off of him as you stepped toward the portal. Once the threshold had begun to close after you stepped through, he let out a final sentiment. "Please say hello to your husband for me when you find him."

That was more than enough for you to decide throwing your dagger into the small opening that remained, hitting the smug anachronistic bastard on his uninjured shoulder.

Then the portal finally closed, leaving you in a place you couldn't quite describe. All you knew was that it felt like a place you should never have been allowed access to. A place that should be beyond you. Beyond anyone.

Winding, glowing vines surrounded you, each of them looked and sounded as if they were teeming with a life of its own. If you listened carefully you could hear voices. Your voices. Infinite iterations of them. But one rang clearer than every other in the entire space.

"Did I do something that angered the Norns so fiercely that they condemned me to love a man I could never have?"

"I know what it feels like to kiss him. To touch him. To be desired by him. And it's ripping me apart to know that I will never know that again."

"The people will look at this union and see it for what it is. Sinful. Shameful!"

You tried to block the memories out of your mind, of you begging your grandmother Queen Frigga to lock your memories away. Of arguing with your grandfather Odin and with your father Thor because they were signing your life away to marry Loki. Of the harsh words you spat at them all behind closed doors.

Of the day the lock on your mind finally broke, after finding your journals prior to the spell being cast chronicling how you'd fallen for the god despite your better judgment. The head-splitting agony of your memories reconciling and finding their place back in your mind.

An agony suffered in your lonesome while Loki was away on assignment.

You scrambled desperately to think of anything else, to follow along the path of the vines and hear something other than your own mistakes being echoed back at you. These desperate attempts made you realize that the vines converged in a structure that eerily resembled an image that you'd only learned about in your youth.

"Yggdrasil?" you whispered in awe, your feet bringing you closer still until you found a parting just large enough for one to squeeze through.

Once you'd finally freed yourself from the winding vines, all air left your lungs at the sight that greeted you. A golden throne at the heart of the tree. All the vines anchored to the man -- or God, rather -- seated in it.

Loki.

"You've left quite a trail of bodies in your wake throughout this quest of yours, little Princess," he spoke, not moving even a fraction from where he sat.

He gave you a soft smile, tears beginning to form in his eyes as he stared at you. As if he couldn't believe you were here with him.

"It's been too long, my darling wife."

You'd rehearsed time and time again throughout your search for your husband what you would say to him once you'd been reunited. You would tell him how wrong you were for how you behaved throughout your betrothal, your marriage. And you would abandon every shred of your pride and beg for his forgiveness. You would tell him you loved him, that you'd always loved him.

And that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him.

Yet somehow you could form none of those words. Instead you finally felt your body succumb to the tiredness brought about by the centuries you'd spent searching and laying waste to every imaginable corner of the Nine Realms and beyond for even the slightest shred of a clue as to where he could have been.

Instead you sunk to your knees, the tears streaming down your face as you stumbled over your words. "I remember everything. I had to find you. Tell you that I'm--"

"I know you are, my love. I watched you on the day the spell broke, the day you finally remembered. I wanted so desperately to come home to you. To not let you have to endure that pain alone."

"Why didn't you?" you blurted out, staring at all the vines he held in his hands. "What are all these?"

"Timelines," he answered you simply, giving you a minuscule shrug of his shoulders. "In every single one, there is an iteration of you and me. Some circumstances may differ, minor details. But at the heart of each of them, we live a life together. We find each other, fall in love. In some we even start a family."

"A family," you repeated breathlessly. The knowledge that each vine -- each timeline -- that was anchored to him held a variation of you and him, of your story, began to eat away at you, flooding you with guilt.

How wretched did you have to be that in your timeline you'd rejected him? Foolishly pushed him away with every mistake you made until finally it took you centuries to find him again?

"What happened?" you finally spoke after what felt like hours. "How did you get--"

"That is quite the long and harrowing tale, darling. In truth, it was a cavalcade of miscalculations and bad judgment calls, failed attempts of trying to save all these lives until I realized that the result would always stay the same if the equation contained the same variables."

"And what was that result?"

"Annihiliation," he answered you simply, giving you a misty eyed look. "Every single strand of time that I hold safe now would have been obliterated on sight. I know it. I've seen it. I've seen you disintegrate before me too many times than I wish to count. The device that once held them stable could no longer scale for an infinite number of possibilities, and letting countless timelines die in the name of the survival of a few was…unacceptable. The only thing that could carry a burden that great was--"

"A god," you finished, the words fighting you their entire way out, nearly choking you on the weight of them. The question that you wished to raise crippled you with its answer's implications. For you and your timeline specifically. "What happens if you let go?"

"It dies. Slowly. Drifts away until it eventually turns to ash." He began to make a motion, as if to approach you, until ultimately he decided against it. "This was the only way. It remains the only way. I must stay, and keep them safe. Watch our lives play out in derivatives of what ifs."

The selfish question that danced at the tip of your tongue plagued you with even more guilt. But what about my timeline? What about our life together? "There has to be another way," you grumbled, stubbornly shaking your head as if you were once again a toddler, refusing to accept the world for being what it was rather than what you wished it would be. "I could stay with you. I could stay and we can find a way together."

Your heart splintered watching him shake his head at you. "My beautiful headstrong wife," he breathed out, his tone filled with both fondness and heartbreak. "I can't in my good conscience let you abandon your life just so you could stay here with me. That would be too selfish, even for me. What would you have here?"

"You! I would have you. All these centuries I've spent in a desperate scramble to find you and tell you that I lo--" You found yourself completely choking on the words now, never having to articulate them before. "That I love you. That I've always loved you and I want us to start our lives together. I refuse to accept that after all this time I have to let you go. You can't make me."

"Asgard needs you, its future Queen."

"And I need you!" Your voice finally broke, sobs that you'd fought inside starting to bubble up. "It isn't fair that you hold all these different tellings of our story in your hands, but your story, yours and mine, ends in us apart. That you spend your days here, watching our life play out somewhere and somewhen else, and you're alone. Please don't send me away, husband," you began to beg. "Don't make me leave you. Let me stay."

He let out a sharp exhale, a tear escaping his eye, rolling down his cheek. "I've longed for the day I would hear you call me that," he sighed, a rueful smile gracing the handsome features that you were bereft of for centuries. "Truly I didn't think I would ever see you again, Y/N. My Y/N. I never thought that I would have you before me, and I hear those words you would only say in dreams with my own ears. Thank you, my dear heart. You have given me a gift in this quest of yours, in having a final moment with the woman I love…" More tears rolled down his cheeks when his smile widened before finishing his sentiment. "And the woman that loves me."

Your sobs filled the endless space, your body collapsing onto the ground as your grief overtook you. The notion of grieving for the living never seemed sensical to you until now. Now that the man, the god, you loved was calling this the last time you would ever see each other.

And you knew in your heart that with the power he wielded now, he could make that your reality without even lifting a finger. He could push you out of this void and back into any timeline of his choosing just as easily as he pulled you out of Sakaar.

The feel of familiar large hands pulling you up to your feet startled you, only having the briefest moment to look at your husband before he pulled you into a crushing embrace. You didn't think twice before wrapping your arms around him, holding him as close as you could and sobbing into his shoulder before realizing…

If his hands were on you, then why were the vines still in place?

"Loki," you sobbed. "Husband, please. No illusions."

"I can't hold you," he said, choking back his own sobs now. "I couldn't watch you break like this and do nothing." The duplicate he cast to hold you disappeared from your hold in a flash of green. "I've done it before against all my better judgment, I refuse to do it again."

"Then don't." Against your own better judgment, you stomped your foot, like a bratty child being told you had to go home. Which was almost precisely what this was. "If this is where you are and where you will remain, then this is where I wish to stay. With the god that owns my heart. With my husband." You blinked rapidly to expel the tears that blurred your vision before uttering the words that splintered at your heart even more. "I was made to be yours. You said that."

"And I yours," he finished, averting his gaze, letting his own tears drop to the fabric of  his trousers. "In every timeline. We must take solace in knowing that among these infinite tales, one is ours. What could have been ours."

"What should be ours," you insisted. You made your way over to him, placing your hand on the side of his face. He closed his eyes, leaning into your touch, the sight breaking your heart further. "Our story deserves its bliss-laden epilogue, too."

"Not at the cost of everyone else's. Deep down you know this to be true."

"That does not mean I accept it," you grumbled. "Let me stay."

"You know that I can't. I will not subject you to live out the rest of your days here. Without friends nor family, and only a husband that cannot even hold you as company."

"But at least you would have someone to hold you," you argued, throwing your arms around him and letting your tears flow once more. "I can't just leave you here all on your own. You can't make me." You knew that he damn right could.

"My love," he sighed, turning his head to press a kiss to your temple. "I wish for you to live a long, and fulfilled life. You've lost so much time in your search for me only for it to end like this. I can give you those centuries back, as a final gift. Reverse the clock, undo the toll it took on you. Let this be the final token of my affection. My fealty. My undying vow."

"Let me keep my memories," you pleaded, already feeling that this would truly be your final moments with him. You did not need to turn your gaze to know that the portal leading back to Asgard was there, waiting for you. Perhaps he would simply nudge you through with his mind, knowing that you would refuse to leave. "Let me keep my remnants of you if that is all that I can leave this place with."

He nodded once. "Very well, little Princess. When you walk through the portal only the physical years will be stripped away. Live well, and remember always that I love you. My heart will only ever belong to you. Until the end of time."

"I love you," you choked out through your tears. "Husband." Your heart ached at the sight of his tears, not bothering to fight back the urge to kiss them away. "I will miss you desperately and always. In every step that I must take in this life without you."

"You will always have me by your side," he swore. "When you feel a presence you cannot see, in gentle breezes within a still room. I will always be there."

You continued to wipe his tears away, the god constantly kissing at your palms. Seemingly refusing to let you go, too.

"May I kiss you?" you asked, barely audibly, your voice unable to even completely form the words. "One last time?"

He gave you a small nod, and you leaned in to press your lips to his, trying to pour out your years of lost time and the future that you were doomed to lose in just a few short moments into that single kiss. You could feel that when he kissed you back, he did so with both all the love he'd never been able to give you before, and the love that he would never be able to bestow in the future.

It was a kiss of finality. A kiss of goodbye. A bittersweet final page in the story of you and Loki.

I love you more than words can ever say, his voice echoed in your mind. Goodbye, my love. My fated. My darling wife.

When you pulled away he was gone. And you'd been returned to your shared chambers back in Asgard. As he promised, the physical toll the centuries-long search had taken on your body were gone. No more scars from miscalculated skirmishes. No more bruises from Sakaar.

No more physical reminders of what you'd endured trying to reunite with the love your life.

All that remained were the memories of those years, and your time in his domain beyond the Realms.

"Goodbye, my darling husband. My love. My Loki," you whispered into the quiet of your marital chambers, sinking to your knees once more and letting out a shriek of pure agony, the sobs swiftly returning and wracking your entire body as you lay pathetically on the floor.

"Y/N??"

The sound of your mother Lady Sif's voice provided little comfort, but it felt like a familiar balm. "Mother," you said weakly, unmoving from your spot on the ground even as she rushed to you, cradling you in her lap.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" She stroked your hair while your tears soaked her sleep dress. You felt her wave someone over, and moments later you felt your grandmother Queen Frigga's presence in the room with you.

"I lost. I lost and I know not what to do now," you managed to say through your tears.

"What did you lose, Daughter?"

You'd briefly considered explaining your journey, from breaking the spell, to your journey through the centuries, to Loki's domain beyond the reach of space and time. To relay what had become of your husband.

Ultimately the words were beyond you due to your grief.

"Everything," you answered her, holding on to her tight as if you were a child again. This would be the only semblance of comfort you would have. "I lost everything."

A/N: I had to after that finale had me processing and feeling the big sad all day, I promise I'm working on 2 other stories based on the finale that have kinda better endings.

Also I sobbed throughout writing this entire thing, just for the record.

Now here's the song to add to the vibe:

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @superficialdomina @anukulee @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog

[iomoru]

ioo!!! hope you're having a good day and if you aren't, i hope it gets better! if you're in the mood, can you do kinich x reader angst where he breaks up with the reader because he thinks he may not come back from the night warden wars and is scared so he doesn't want reader to feel hurt? you can end it with angst or fluff (eg, reader comforts him enough to not do it or he ends up doing it) idk if you get what i mean HAHA but ty if you choose to do this request!!

A Farewell Beneath The Stars...

A/n: im actually really glad you gave me this req earth anon! I haven't really done angst again for a while and YOU just gave me an idea for it (≡^∇^≡)

Genre: Canon Verse, Angst w/ no happy ending, Gn! Reader, Kinich x Reader (not anymore), Second Person, Proofread

Summary: Kinich decides to break up with you as the Night Warden Wars intensify. Fearing he may not return, he doesn't want you to endure the pain of waiting for him, only to be left with memories and loss. Despite your pleas, Kinich is determined to protect you from future heartbreak, even if it means walking away from the love of his life. As he leaves, you're left beneath the cold stars, shattered and alone, realizing there's no going back.

The night sky stretched infinitely above, a canopy of stars that seemed distant, cold. The gentle rustle of leaves filled the air as you stood at the edge of the forest, your heart pounding in your chest. Kinich was late. He was never late.

A soft crunch of footsteps on the dry leaves snapped you out of your thoughts. You turned around to see him standing there, his silhouette barely visible in the moonlight. He looked tired, his usually warm, amber eyes clouded with something you couldn’t quite place—something darker.

"Kinich?" You called out softly, stepping toward him, the air between you heavy with unspoken tension. "Where have you been?"

He didn’t answer right away, his gaze fixed on the ground. When he finally looked up, his eyes met yours, and you saw it—fear. Real, raw fear. The kind you hadn’t seen in him before.

"I’ve been thinking," he began, his voice low, almost strained. "About us."

Your heart stuttered in your chest. The air felt colder suddenly, and you could feel the shift in the atmosphere. You swallowed hard, stepping closer. "What do you mean?"

He ran a hand through his dark hair, frustration and fear warring on his face. "The Night Warden Wars...they’re getting worse. You know that." His voice faltered for a moment, and you could tell he was struggling to find the right words. "I might not come back."

The weight of his words hit you like a punch to the stomach. "Don’t say that...you’ll come back. You always do."

He shook his head, his jaw clenched as if the pain of what he was about to say was too much. "No, this time it’s different. You don’t understand. This time...I don’t know if I can promise that."

You could feel the tears burning behind your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Not yet. "So, what? You’re just going to give up on us? Just like that?" Your voice cracked despite your best efforts to stay strong.

"It’s not giving up," he said, his voice growing quieter, more fragile. "I don’t want to hurt you more than I already have. If I don’t make it back...I can’t let you wait for me, hoping for something that might never come."

You shook your head in disbelief, stepping forward and grabbing his hand, the warmth of his skin grounding you. "Kinich, please. We’ve been through so much together, don’t push me away now."

His grip on your hand tightened for a brief moment before he slowly let go, stepping back as if creating more distance would make this easier for him. For both of you. "It’s because I love you that I have to do this," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I can’t bear the thought of you waiting for someone who might never return. You deserve better than that...better than me."

Your chest ached, each word cutting deeper than the last. "So that’s it? You’re breaking up with me because you’re scared?"

"I’m breaking up with you because I know what’s coming." His voice trembled as he spoke, and for the first time, you saw the cracks in his facade. He was terrified. "I don’t want you to be left with nothing but memories and pain."

You took a step back, the distance between you growing not just physically but emotionally. Your voice was barely a whisper when you spoke again. "And what about my choice? What if I’m willing to take that risk?"

Kinich looked away, his fists clenched at his sides. "I can’t let you make that choice," he said, his voice hoarse. "Because if something happens to me, it’ll destroy you. And I can’t live with that."

The silence that followed felt suffocating. The stars above seemed to watch, indifferent to your heartbreak. You wanted to scream, to shake him, to make him see that you didn’t care about the risk. But deep down, you knew that nothing you said would change his mind.

Tears finally spilled down your cheeks, and you wiped them away angrily, hating yourself for showing weakness. "Fine," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of your breaking heart. "If that’s what you want."

Kinich’s face crumpled for a moment, the pain of his own decision visible in the way his shoulders hunched, the way his jaw clenched. He took one last look at you, his eyes filled with regret and sorrow. "I’m sorry," he said, his voice cracking. "I’m so sorry."

And with that, he turned and walked away, his footsteps fading into the night, leaving you alone beneath the cold, uncaring stars. You stood there for what felt like an eternity, your heart shattered, the weight of his absence crushing you.

There was no going back now. He was gone, and you were left with nothing but the painful echoes of his goodbye.

A/n: ngl I genuinely love the ending

© ²⁰²⁴ ɪᴏᴍᴏʀᴜ ✰ do not repost, translate, plagiarize, use to train ai, or share my work on other social media platforms.

[broooooo]

Dronehood

____________________

In today's world , the world has been slowly taken over by drones, whether it was by force, choice or persuasion, men are being converted, covered in a shiny black latex, a second skin, a well built muscled body, constantly aroused and hard. The mind does seem to remain keeping the hosts personality, but there's a big focus of obeying the master and the pleasure of dronehood

At first the world was scared, but as the drone army expanded, it slowly became normal, as if it's a rite of passage for teenage, adult men. It's even become a kind of entertainment to watch a conversion happen, could inspire others , or worn them.

Then there's me

I am Aaron, 21, regular build, living in an apartment, IV never been opposed to the drone movement. It's interesting to watch.

Deep down I wouldn't mind becoming a drone myself, it genuinely sounds fun.

Iv watched my childhood friend, Jason, become one before my eyes, he had wanted it for a while, and decided to get a slow conversion, he wanted to experience all the feelings grow and build.

The conversion itself is simple, intercourse with a drone, you may or may not include leather articles of clothing such as gloves or boots for extra pleasure. When it's done, the new drone is given a serial number name, but can keep their human name for interactions with others, plus they can take off their head mask for easy identification.

I myself don't leave my room a lot, i just watch from my TV or the window, hearing it through my walls too at times. Jason's my roommate, but he's never home, he's busy converting others or just hanging out with other drones.

Somewhat makes me jealous, before his conversion , we were the same, locked in your rooms not doing much, it honestly is a better life for him, and I'm happy,

It's possible to request a drone conversion, many have done it, Idk why I haven't done it yet, I guess I want to keep my peace for a little while, but ik at some point it will get too much to bear and then I will know I'm ready.

_________________

It was a normal day for me, watching my conversions , and contemplating life. When suddenly I hear the front door open, I rush out to see him, Jason standing in the door way, his heavy leather boots stomping on the floor as he closes the door. He looks at me, I haven't seen his have a week's.

JASON!?* ITS been so long, how.. have you been?*

He smiles and embraces me in a hug

*Iv been well, I missed you*

My face goes flush red, as I hug him back.

His latex skin is soft and shiny , the feel of hard muscles, it makes my heart race.

We pull away and I ask*

What are you doing here Jason?* Don't you have missions ?*

Jason laughs and says * well I do live here, plus even drones need rest.*

I answer back"

Well that makes sense , yeah*

Jason goes sit on the couch to watch TV.

*mind getting me a sparkling lemon water Aaron?.

Oh? Ok sure , I'll make us both one *

I go the kitchen, fill two cups with soda and prepare to cut lemons, during all this my mind races with thoughts, the sudden appearance of Jason and the feeling of his skin, it felt great. I feel hot, almost dreaming of it

As I'm cutting lemons the knife slips and cuts my hand, breaking me out of my dream like state

GAH*

Jason turns and runs up to me concerned

Are you ok?*

I'm fine just cut my self.

I go to clean up the blood and find a bandage, but problem, we where out of bandages

*darn we're out of bandaids.

Well I have a suggestion*

I turn around to see Jason's bear hand outstretched holding a latex glove.

You took it off? Isn't that yours?

Don't worry, I get a new one, my body can create it naturally.

I look at the glove as I hold it, it's soft,

The glove has a healing effect to it, it protects us drones from major injuries.

Huh, convenient , as I smile* thanks

I put the glove over my disinfected hand, I move my fingers about feeling it, it was soft, silky and comfortable.

So this is how it feels?* I say

Yeah, it's quite the sensation isn't it?,

Very much so, no wonder many ppl become drones.

Jason helps me finish the drinks and we go sit on the couch together.

Have you thought about dronehood much Aaron?

I turn to him and choke a little ,

Have I thought about it? It's ALL I can think about xd* I say with laughter, I observe it happen from my room, since your never hear.

And before you ask, no, I don't think I'm ready yet.

Jason looks into this drink and back up to me, he leans a hand over to touch my shoulder,

He smiles and says, * when you're ready then, no force, I want you to enjoy it as much as possible.

I peek up, *I KNEW IT, you planned this, laughing.

You were always a trickster you, we both laugh

Well Aaron , I. Do hope you enjoy that glove, it will help you decide, I'm sure of it.

I turn to look out the window and smiles

*thanks, i-, will definitely have an answer soon I'm sure.

___________

Afterwards we hang out the rest of day, it was a fun reunion, full of talk and catching up untill sun down

We both go to bed , crashing instantly as I'd been so tired after today.

The next day Jason and I bid farewell as he leaves for a mission.

I'm left alone and go to my room , sitting on my bedroom couch

_____

Hm, planed or not, I'm happy I have this glove. I turn on the TV to watch some more conversions

I feel hot and steamy imagining it, before I know it I'm rubbing my bulge with the gloved hand , my dick getting erect from what pleasure I can muster,

And idea popped into my head, I head over to Jason's room, and my mind was validated when I saw them, an extra pair of leather boots,

*planned this too Jason? Well idc, thanks*

We happen to be the same size, even so is force my feet into them, the boots go up to my kne, tall and shiny, sliding my feet in, my heart and mind are racing , my dick is rock hard , the sensations are over powering, I lace them up tight, whist I remove my clothing.

I stand up to look to the mirror, naked with only a latex glove and leather boots on, the weight of the boots and the tightness, protecting me, I go to my bed,I start to edge off slowly, aroused to high heavens and enjoying it all. Whilst the sounds of conversions from the TV hum in the background.

I never realized it but the dream like state I was in of edging and leaking lasted 3 days, I was covered in pre, drooling and gooing out, the latex glove and boots has started to spread up my legs and arm, then came Jason, he stood in my bedroom doorway, smiling, he comes over and jumps on top of me, squeezing my nipples hard

I moan hard and leak over me

*ready Aaron?*

Laughing through the intense pleasure ,

*hehe yeah. Convert me friend* I'm ready*

Jason's glowing purple eyes look into mine,

___________

Jason's hard latex dick at the ready, and with a passionate kiss it commences, what felt like a. Eternity, lasted a week of slow intense sex and conversion. As I expected it all

By the end of it, we and the bed were wet in pre, drool and juices, through the days, the latex nanites from Jason's dick slowly transformed my body, spreading the latex all over whist giving my muscle to fit, the climax of the conversion was then.

Jason fucking my tight ass, we both prepared for it , cum

It was a screech of intense pleasure, black nantite filled cum sprayed in ropes out our dicks, lasting 69 minutes of constant cumming, fucking and kissing, and the cum pool around us and soak back up into our bodies, , strengthening the conversion.

When it was all over , we lay there together tired and in love

My eyes start to glow to an intense blue. My mind was reshaped and ready,

Looking to Jason's eyes I say.

* I am ready to obey , ready to spread , ready to cum alongside you *

Jason smiles and kisses me, *ik.. drone 6923..*

My eyes flash, * yes... My new name.. thank you..

Drone 8696..*

___________

In the end we two drones, continued to make out intensely, passionately, never running out of cum

Untill the next mission is handed to us, and. I join Jason on my first crusade, We will enjoy each other forever.

______

: D

I enjoyed this one , genuinely think it's one of my best works yet

Hope you enjoy it, fellow drones

[rxzennia]

echoes from afar

– tales of the voracity pathstrider

✎𓂃 your friends… they call for you. this was from a few version updates ago, but i've been mad busy and unmotivated these days… :( lore with a sprinkle of aventurine. a very, very tiny sprinkle. so i thought i could get this up last week. i am a clown. also, samsung's one ui 6 is so ugly (edit: i got used to the ugly ui. still doesn't quite like it, though. but i got used to it enough to tolerate it). 

→ part ii (wip? deciding. lmk if a sequel sounds cool.)

you didn't think you'd hear your own species ever again. oroboros is somewhere in the universe, qlipoth was probably keeping them out of where civilizations are, and the rest are all either dead or scattered. but here you are, hearing distant screeches from a star system lightyears away from yours, the sound slowly getting closer, closer, closer.

the war between aeons seems inevitable now that you've walked the land amongst mortals, seen their strife, and tasted the ever-so-familiar touch of entwining paths heralding the conflict. the longer you spend living, masquerading as someone who will someday die, you see the violent undercurrents under every calm ocean, as if everything is running on a countdown.

of course, you will never truly understand any of that; time has never been a limited resource for you.

you can almost hear the screeches of your own kin right by your ear

but you know, clear as day, that there's only you on the balcony right now

you're alone on the balcony of aventurine's bedroom, your boss snoring away comfortably cuddled up to his cats

you haven't been able to sleep for a while

not since you've heard the first cry of a leviathan in literally ages

leviathans seldom communicate with one another, so why would they suddenly reach out now?

and you were fairly certain that oroboros is the only other one left

well, the only one that's still actively doing who-knows-what somewhere, anyways

either what you're hearing is the lingering cries of those who are already gone

or you're delusional and you're hallucinating

aventurine doesn't seem to notice your absence, probably because of his abundance of things to cuddle with apart from your person. a good thing, you suppose, because your chronically stressed boss needs his beauty sleep.

you don't intend to drag anyone into your worries. it's nothing you can't handle alone – or, rather, it's not something mortals can handle, even with an organization as robust as the ipc. your existence, your true descent of a dusk leviathan, your connection to the aeon of voracity, none of which are burdens your companions should bear. 

it's these quiet moments when your kin raises their voices and sing in your ears

no, scrap that poetic shit, more like screech in your ears

they recognize prey, they recognize a hunting ground, a free-for-all

it's only natural, you suppose, lest predators start to devour each other in hunger

they're trying to locate you, the sound echoing, bouncing back, as they seek out food

"i'd strongly advise against doing that," you mumble, patting your scarf idly, as if you can't be bothered to care

they're not too far from where your true form slumbers, it seems, and it's easier than a cakewalk to force them into submission

and yet, you cannot locate them

you have their general location, but you can't pinpoint their exact coordinates

you try again, and again, until you come to a realization

they're dead a long time ago; there is nothing for you to find

their wails echo into nothingness, a void that is even more empty than oroboros's stomach

by the time you realize the purpose of these ancient cries, your true form is already stirring from its slumber. in all its majesty, its maw parting to split heaven and hell, until it swallows the carcasses of your kin, until it slithers through the stars, seeking out its next meal.

for the first time in the entire two thousand amber eras of your "existence", you feel hungry. famished, even, and it is a strange feeling.

have you gotten too accustomed to the mundane?

have you been domesticated?

quite some good questions, actually

how long has it been since you've actually allowed yourself the pleasure of devouring planets?

far too long

but it's wrong to eat civilizations

it's wrong to put an end to so many histories and futures because you were feeling peckish

it doesn't even actually "fill" you, so that's just triple the wrong

well, by the textbook definition of wrong, anyways

you don't really understand, but you know the general consensus of "eating people bad"

but your stomach yearns for the familiar feeling of life in its void

you turn around to take a peek at the peacefully sleeping man in the bed, safely tucked away in the blankets

a perfect prey right there, defenseless and unsuspecting

it would be so easy to just gobble him up without anyone noticing

and you could slip away just as easily

your entire profile is fabricated – you can always just make another "you" elsewhere 

but you find yourself extremely reluctant to even wake your extension coiled around the oddly-shaped cats

you find the trust that mortals impart upon you a gift of most intrigue

it is such a fragile, precious thing, and yet they offer it to you freely

especially this man who you serve as an assistant…

aventurine. 

it isn't even his real name, but you find yourself mouthing the syllables again and again. this man who is bestowed the title of a gemstone, wielding the power of the amber lord who strives to protect mortals from your kind like you're some sort of eldritch horror, yet also the one who has you wrapped around his finger.

and you're one of the select few he holds close to his heart. against all odds, he had let you into his heart, see his wounds and scars, and trusts you with all of them. he might act the way he does, but you know how delicate he is underneath all that bravado.

out of curiosity, you try to move the leviathan amongst the pile of limbs, sheets, and felines

as you expected, it doesn't want to answer

it seems that your body doesn't want to act on any malicious intents

you really did get domesticated… 

oh, aeons, it'll come back and bite you in the ass someday, won't it?

even if you have no qualms about eating anything that's not intelligent 

like monsters and stuff

but still

you shouldn't have developed aversion to devouring entire persons

…

it is what it is, you suppose

but holy fuck, those screeches from galaxies away just would not stop

"fucking oroboros, shut the hell up already," you groan, pulling up your scarf to muffle your complaints, "i'm not eating anyone here."

if there was someone behind all this pestering, you definitely would've gone and beaten them up. but. but. there's no one behind this. none that you can think of.

unless it really is oroboros themselves, which you'll have an even bigger problem on your hands. you really hope it isn't.

the noises clear up into words, whispering into your ears

consume. devour. feed. destroy. 

cast them into the void. let them be your sustenance. take their power as your own.

you are a predator. why are you among prey?

they are many but fragile. why do you still hesitate?

no.

no, they are not fragile.

they are not prey.

they are not sustenance.

do not speak of them as if they are nothing but food.

what do you know of the people inhabiting the countless planets in the cosmos?

what do you know of the storms they have weathered?

humanity is stronger than you would ever know.

tonight will be a long night, it seems. you can only hope that this doesn't manifest as some sort of personality disorder. come morning, these thoughts will go away as your mind becomes occupied with work.

there are four system hours until then. 

a leviathan like you, a monster of the cosmos… 

shut up. shut up. shut up. shut up. shut up.

be quiet already.

wish as you may, they will continue to torment you.

why? because they seek answers.

how long will you keep wearing the skin of sheep?

[whineandcheese24]

just watched Batman vs. Superman for the first time and was filled with an intense and visceral rage at the complete bastardization of Superman's character and story. the first actual meeting of Batman and Superman made me so mad I had to pause the movie and just breathe for a second, so to heal myself, I'm going to share how I think the two should meet.

(be warned, it get's long)

This isn't with any particular iteration of Clarke and Bruce in mind, but think mid-twenties for both of them. Bruce is a CEO by day, a playboy socialite by night, and The Batman by later night. He's rich, attractive, and nice enough for people to like him/want to be around him, and he's perfected his social persona, but he's honestly kind of a loser. Think Bruce from Gotham but older (personality-wise, not necessarily backstory-wise). He doesn't really have any friends or anyone important in his life except for Alfred and maybe Dick.

Clark is an up-and-coming reporter for the Daily Planet, with a friendly and sunny, if slightly shy, disposition, and most people like being around him because of that. He does his best to appear non-threatening, and this can cause him to shrink in on himself sometimes. Think Clark from My Adventures With Superman, but a bit older and wiser, and a bit more experienced as both a superhero and a reporter. He very much has people in his life who he loves and who love him.

Now for how Bruce and Clark meet. Batman and Superman have both been around for a bit now, maybe a couple years at this point, but between having to save their respective cities, and needing to get their bearings as superheroes, and most people still being skeptical about the existence of Batman at all, they haven't met yet. Bruce knows of Superman, and despite Superman's good actions and behavior, Bruce doesn't trust him. He thinks that Superman is dangerous, not to a malicious hatred point, but he's wary. And he knows that if Superman wanted to, or if someone else was able to manipulate him or harness his powers, Superman could destroy the world.

He wants to confront Superman, but he knows that if he does it as Batman, Superman will be able to see under his mask and figure out his identity. So instead of approaching Superman as Batman, he decides to approach Clark as Bruce. He invites Clark to a charity fundraiser, ostensibly so Clark can cover the fundraiser for The Daily Planet. In the time leading up to their first meeting, Bruce thinks that Clark is probably a fraud who's only pretending to be a hero and he's actually a conceited attention-whore who loves power.

But then Bruce meets him, and he's just... He's so damn nice. Bruce doesn't have any friends, and here's this guy who's the epitome of sunshine and everyone around him loves him, and Bruce doesn't quite believe it's real. He asks about Clark's thoughts on Superman in a loaded and slightly hostile way. Clark's initial response is very defensive but then shifts to earnest as Clark explains that he thinks Superman is just a man trying to do his best with what he was given. and Bruce just, doesn't know what to do with that.

The two of them exchange numbers and hang out whenever they're in each other's respective cities, all the while talking about Superman and superheroes and vigilantes, with Clark learning more about Batman every time he's in Gotham. Clark disagrees with Batman's methods, but Bruce argues that maybe he's just doing his best with what he has. Bruce gets to know Clark's friends and family, and he himself even becomes more outgoing and friendly just by being around Clark. Clark learns to be more strategic and skeptical by being around Bruce and seeing the tragedies in Gotham.

When Clark learns of Bruce's alter ego, it's not because of x-ray vision during/after a fight, or suspicious snooping. It's because Bruce chooses to tell him. In this version, Batman and Superman never start out as enemies. They often clash over methods and opinions. Sometimes, Batman can be too dark for Clark, and Superman can be too optimistic for Bruce. They argue and debate, but they don't fight. Because here, they've always been friends. Their relationship is built on mutual respect and admiration for each other's strength from the very beginning.

I just really want a world where despite their misgivings, they never start off as enemies, antagonists, or even rivals, but instead, from the moment they meet, they're friends.

[crusty-chronicles]

Hi,

Can I request kurama x human reader who share his love for plants and nature which makes him fall for them?

Thanks for considering this requst

An: My man's would be gushing 💯.

Kurama With An S/O Who Loves Plants

It's inevitable he becomes smitten

Someone else who shares his love of plants? You're his.

You start out as one of his classmates.

Just another face in the crowd.

It isn't until you have a project together that he gets to know you.

You'd chosen to do it at your house. It was more convenient that way. There'd be no interruptions and you'd get to finish faster.

There was just one catch though.

“My house is kinda humid. I like to keep the temperature high. If it's too much we could always work in the library,” you explained.

The heat was something he could handle. It wouldn't bother him in the slightest. And when he stepped foot inside, it was pleasantly bearable.

What he was not expecting were the ferns littered around your living room. Along with several other types of potted plants.

They all looked to be well taken care of, too. Seems you had quite the hobby.

He followed you to your room. Fingers skimming over the leaves of a pothos as he passed it. If you saw the action, you didn't mention it.

In your room were a few more plants placed towards the window sill. One in particular caught his attention. Through the foliage he could see glimpses of red.

“An anthurium,” he mumbled out.

“Huh?” You called from your spot on the floor.

He met your confused gaze and offered you a smile.

“You're a bit of a plant enthusiast, aren't you?”

You seemed to light up at his words. Excited to talk about your favorite hobby.

“Are you kidding me? These are my babies. I'm a single mother of about 24.”

Maybe it was a little endearing to see you talk so passionately.

“In all seriousness, I think I'm gonna become a botanist when I graduate. What about you?” You asked.

What would Kurama do? He'd probably be offered a job at his stepfather's company. If something else hadn't killed him first. But he felt like that wouldn't have been a favorable answer.

“I haven't decided yet.” Was his response.

He expected you to pry further. Instead you playfully nudged his shoulder.

“You could always join me.”

Surprisingly, he was left speechless by your offer. You'd wanted him to study plants with you?

“Don't think I didn't notice how you addressed Derek by his full government name.” You gestured to the anthurium behind you.

“You really know your stuff.”

Oh you had no idea.

“You name your plants?” He questioned. You were an intriguing individual.

“Hello? I told you they were my babies. And don't you try to change the subject.” You scolded.

“I'll consider it. How about we start on our project now?”

He figured that would've been the last time he interacted with you. That couldn't have been any further than the truth.

You showed up to his desk the next morning with a small potted plant.

He looked up at you quizzically before you spoke.

“What's this?”

You were trying to test him. A part of him found it cute. You had absolutely no clue how vast his knowledge was. Of both this world and the demon one.

He took you up on your challenge without hesitation.

“Bear’s Paw succulent. Also known as the Cotyledon tomentosa.”

“Aha!” You cheered triumphantly. As if you caught him red handed on something. Whatever connection you think you just made, he'd never know.

It became a daily habit of sorts.

Every morning you'd stop by his desk with something new.

The same question of ‘what’s this?’

And he'd always answer correctly.

You were persistent in whatever endeavor you were chasing. He thought you would've gotten bored by now, yet you kept at it.

Little by little, he starts to consider you a friend. He started anticipating your presence in the morning. Enjoying how you stuck around after quizzing him now. Getting to know each other more and more.

You didn't fawn over him like the girls in your class. And you weren't jealous of him like the boys. You were just you. And somehow you wormed your way into his life for the better.

You trusted him wholeheartedly with your plants. Even going as far as to ask him to take care of one for you.

“I have to go on a family trip. Watch Cornelius for me.” You'd looked up at him with pleading eyes. Ones he found himself unable to say no to. So he (not so) begrudgingly said yes.

A cactus. You gave him a cactus to look after.

He makes it bloom for you by the time you get back.

“Some green thumb you have.” You mused once you got it back. A small feeling of pride washing over him.

Eventually Kurama starts returning the favor and bringing you plants instead.

The first time he did it, he had left a special type of rose on your desk.

“What's this?” His words mirroring yours.

You gave a smirk at the challenge.

“Easy. It's a Falstaff rose.” you answered.

“Now what's this~” you pulled what looked like a white and pink flower from behind you.

“A trick. That's an orchid mantis.”

“Damn. I almost had you.”

Every now and then he'll throw you off by growing a plant from the demon world.

“Is that a hybrid of some sort?” You asked, prodding at the rather sentient looking plant.

Did it just blink at you?

“It's cool whatever it is. How'd you get your hands on it?”

By now your guessing games had started to take place out of school and in your homes. Right now, you were at Shuichi’s because he said he ‘wanted to show you something.’

He appeared amused by your curiosity.

“I have my ways.” He responded.

“This plant is carnivorous. It produces a saliva stronger than acid.” Though he'd never let it hurt you.

And instead of being frightened by it, you were ecstatic.

“Let's feed it a bunch of things!” You suggested.

Did you hear that? That was the sound of his heart beating in overdrive. You were a very brave human.

But you also found beauty and wonder in things most would cower at.

He makes sure to bring and grow you more plants from demon world. Most of them are relatively harmless.

As long as you don't get too close that is.

It becomes a new game for you to guess what they do. What makes the flowers bloom. The conditions they thrive in.

Most of the time you end up being correct. Using your prior knowledge to make logical guesses. It's surprising how accurate you are for a human. But then again, you weren't exactly normal.

He's still not over how you fed that plant your entire backpack.

He would be lying if he said he hadn't taken an interest in you.

Not just because of your shared hobby. He liked how you made it a point to check on him everyday. How you'd let him ramble on excitedly about some new fauna. The way you explored and investigated something new without fear. The exaggerated movements of your hands when you were talking passionately.

All of it had pulled him in little by little.

He makes it a point to confess to you in a way only you two would understand.

“What do all these mean?” He asked you, presenting you with a small bouquet.

“Oooh! Going the extra mile today? You're on.”

You took the flowers from him and began mentally listing them off.

You hadn't taken in the full context until you were already speaking.

“Red carnations mean my heart aches for you. Forget me nots mean true love. Baby's breath means everlasting love. And a rose means passion…Oh.”

It hit you like a truck then, the implications of why he might've gave you this. Was this still part of your usual game?

You looked to Shuichi who didn't hide the softness in his expression.

“You're being serious? I…”

‘Say yes you idiot!!!!’ You internally screamed at yourself.

Instead you plucked one of the flowers and offered it back to him.

“Here's my answer.”

You'd given him the rose in return.

------------------

An: yeet! Google came in clutch for this one.

[delta-pavonis]

Fic Teaser: Parasomnia

(The morning after Special Exhibition, so spoilers there if you haven't read it. This little bit is rated T.)

Dear Dream,

Many would start such a note with “I just couldn't bear to wake you…” but, to be quite honest, I fear it would be too disingenuous given that I did everything short of cracking the smelling salts to wake you before I left. I was worried enough that I checked all your vitals. Upon finding you not dead, nor bradycardic, nor hypotensive, nor hypoxic, nor hypoglycemic, I decided you needed the rest.

Make yourself at home. And I mean that truly. Hell, you know where the toys are kept if you somehow feel the urge. (I, for one, am giving my bollocks and backside a break for at least a few days. No regrets, though.) There is barely any food in the pantry because of my holiday schedule, but there is plenty of coffee and tea. Enjoy anything and everything I have in stock. Or just order takeaway.

I left my car here and took the tube in. Keys are by the front door. You are welcome to drive my car to the hospital or get on a block south and ride in to pick up your car. I told the hospital parking attendant to log it under my name, so no rush getting here, your car is safe.

Rest. Go back to sleep if you want. (Actually, drink a glass of water first. We exerted ourselves rather, ah, thoroughly last night.) Take all the time you need. 

I’ll be back about 6 tomorrow morning. If you're around, we can have breakfast. If not, I hope I’ll see you soon. 

Text me when you are up and moving?

Yours,

Hob

P.S. Last night was fantastic. You are absolutely stunning. xoxo

Dream reads the letter fully three times before putting it down.

“Yours.”

Something in his chest soars.

Mine.

He wants Hob to be his very, very badly. 

Probably in ways Hob very much does not intend. 

Probably. 

Dream drops the note to run his hands over his face and flops back onto the bed. The sheets smell of Hob and he turns to press his cheek into them before he can think better of it.

Oh, yeah, he’s proper fucked. 

One hand wanders down to his abdomen, to above his groin, and for a moment he feels Hob within him again and groans. His other hand lands on the bruising on his shoulder, presses softly, just enough to remind him of Hob's mouth. 

Dream closes his eyes and remembers the taste of Hob, his skin and mouth and sweat and cum. He suddenly misses him, desperately. 

Which is insane. 

They’ve known each other–actually known each other, not the weird parasocial relationship he had with Hob via his TikTok ASMR videos–less than a week. How can Dream possibly miss him?!?

This is just the rush of a new relationship. It will pass. It will pass.

But Dream doesn't want it to pass. 

God, it has been ages since he felt this good. Since he had someone respond to him, to his intensity, in kind, to meet him punch for punch. It is what he thought Corin would be, or Calliope, or, fuck, Nada way back when. He thought they could become this. He and Killala had it for one bright, shining moment, before they burned themselves out.

And yet here Hob is, matching his steps, following his lead in this dance, seemingly without much effort, on the first try. Dream is going to have a whole lot of trouble letting that go, now that he knows it possible. 

Fuck.

Dream grabs his phone from where it was placed on the nightstand next to the letter and looks at the time. 

Which makes him sit up in bed like a shot.

It is almost five in the evening. He has slept for over twelve hours.

[narfin-frood]

In your swap au, how does wander keep himself occupied? Does Syl bring him books and stuff? Or do the minds of the others attached to the mushroom keep him company?

i hope it's ok if i answer your questions in one post!!

that's the thing that really messes with him: he doesn't really keep himself occupied. he talks to the people around him, sometimes he messes with his banjo if he's feeling up to it, but he's kinda resigned himself to sheer boredom until lackadaisical shows up. he's got himself convinced that boredom is his burden to bear

he can get up and leave if he wants! he's keeping himself there, there's nothing about the mushroom that keeps it connected to him other than his own willingness to stay there. my thought is that reforming him ends up being as simple as luring him out of his seat, reminding him how good it feels to dance and sing and play without being rooted in one place

i haven't decided fully yet, but right now i'm envisioning it as sort of a hollow planet with an interior completely terraformed by the mushroom. maybe quite dead-looking from an outside perspective, but on the inside it's all oranges and greens and little glowy bits.

don't worry!! i love getting questions like this, it really helps me dive into my worldbuilding :))

and i think you're absolutely right, i'm trying to build a playlist for him that really nails the vibe i'm looking for right now and i would describe it as "tranquil but unnerving". the red weed is very cool, but it's a bit too far on the overtly-scary side. in our town is closer, but it's a march, and i think it fits starlight's cult much closer than the vibe i have in mind for wander's. the only song i've been able to put on the playlist so far (and it's still not really what i'm looking for) is gratitude by oingo boingo... i had another song in mind, but i forgot to add it to the playlist so now i've just gotta hunt it down again.

i do have a normal-wander playlist with a fair amount of music in it, though! i'm looking for music like what i've put in here, but like... slower and more evil.

by all means, please PLEASE send me more music for swap wander, i wanna pad out his playlist soooo bad. don't worry if you don't think it's exactly what i'm looking for, i still wanna hear it!

[cosmic-light-fics]

I honestly can't get over Carmen Anthony Berzatto getting relationship advice from Neil Fak of all people in "Bolognese".

Neil, the one almost everyone refers to as a child. Neil, the one almost everyone doesn't take seriously. That Neil.

So why have a deep conversation with an unserious person?

Well.... because the conversation isn't seriously about Claire.

It's about Sydney.

The Crane Wife 3 by The Decemberists plays in the background as Carmy suddenly asks Neil "Is Claire my girlfriend?" He could have asked Sydney that question. You know, the person who prompted him to think of Claire as a girlfriend instead of a friend that's a girl. But all he was concerned about in that moment was being a shitty person (to whom he doesn't specify. It's purposely left open-ended).

The song playing draws on the Japanese folk tale of the crane wife. A blogger who analyzes The Decemberists' album The Crane Wife had this to say about The Crane Wife 3.

We begin here with the end of the tale of the crane wife, told from the point of view of the now-estranged husband who deeply regrets driving her away. If you’re like me and you know nothing of the story going into the album, all that you’re likely to pick up on is the fact that a man drove his lover away due to some sort of mistrust or disagreement between them, and you’d probably take the lines referring to her shed feathers and her choice to take flight as metaphors for a scorned woman walking out on the man she once loved, not realizing it’s all actually quite literal, as she was a crane who had taken human form. The source of the betrayal won’t become clear until much later in the album.

Up until this point in the season, Carmy and Claire haven't really faced any dips in their relationship due to Carmy's inability to define their connection. The person who is affected the most is Sydney. Claire hasn't felt betrayal from Carmy. Sydney has: from him standing her up for their palate cleanser, to him not updating her on the structural changes to The Bear, and his most egregious betrayal being the construction of the chaos menu without her. Making the chaos menu without her and gaining input from Claire.

Carmy betrayed Sydney. And I think what compounds this fact is that he decides to confirm who Claire is to him to everyone else except Sydney. Sydney is the one who asks for confirmation, the one who confronts him to decide and yet!!! Carmy never confirms their status to the one person who was concerned enough to point it out.

Who suffers from Carmy's relationship the most? Sydney. She loses his time, his focus, his dedication to their creation. But the biggest thing she loses is their connection (up until Carmy finally decides to give her his full focus in ep. 9).

Nothing confirms all of this more than Sydney's Three of Swords tattoo. A song of betrayal playing in the background as Carmy decides if Claire is his girlfriend, a couple's montage between Claire and Carmy undercut with shots of Sydney, and the reveal of a tattoo that symbolizes betrayal and heartbreak.