#i cannot plan in advance so bear with me

[werestorm]

When I can access the site I promise it'll be ALL OVER FOR YALL ARTFIGHT PARTICIPANTS.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I've been dreaming of the Rose-Red Ruler.

Happy birthday, our most beloved Queen of Hearts.

May your smile be like a never fading flower.

How does a moment last forever? How can a story never die?

A soft knock is at his door.

Riddle tears away from his current textbook--a volume of advanced potions, open to Recipe for Happiness. On the list of ingredients were faith, trust, a little pixie dust, and...

"Come in," he calls, letting the contents of the book fall from his memory.

His mother enters, bearing a tray with a tall pitcher and a glass. As usual, her hair is pulled back into a tight bun and she is dressed impeccably: a scarlet pantsuit, heels, black lace gloves, and a necklace drawn tight across her neck, creating the illusion of beading blood. Mrs. Rosehearts gives her son a stern yet warm smile.

"Happy birthday, Riddle. You're still studying, even on your big day?"

"Yes, mother. This will be the year I apply for internships, so I cannot afford to slack off in my studies. I want to ensure I am the strongest possible candidate for the law and medical internships I'm interested in."

She nods approvingly, setting the tray upon his desk. "It's good to be thinking about your future now--but be sure to take breaks when appropriate. I've brought you some Darjeeling, first flush. Its light and delicate flavor is perfectly refreshing for a sweltering day."

Mrs. Rosehearts starts to pour the chilled tea for him. Right as the aromatic, golden brown stream ceases, she lets out a small gasp. "Ah, yes--your schedule is open tonight, correct? Your father will be fetching a strawberry tart on his way home from work, and I've prepared all your favorite foods. You can eat as much as you like!"

Riddle's stomach flutters.

There are so many things wrong with what she has said, but he exclaims the first question to emerge in his mind.

"We're having a celebration? Together?"

"Of course we are. It's your birthday," his mom replies plainly. "Why wouldn't we celebrate our special little boy?"

"I... I don't know," Riddle confesses. For reasons he cannot explain, his head suddenly feels foggy. "I just can't recall the last time we did something like this as a family."

You've never seemed happy with one another.

He does not dare say it out loud.

Mrs. Rosehearts carefully regards her child.

"Certainly, your father and I have very busy schedules on account of our work at the hospital. You've immersed yourself in your schoolwork. It can be difficult making plans that align with all three of us--but we make time to spend with our loved ones."

Mrs. Rosehearts leans down and plants a feathery kiss on his head, a hand lovingly stroking his hair. So soft, so tender. She smells of roses on a bed of vanilla and amber, the same heady comfort as the exhilaration of collapsing, out of breath, after spinning in circles in the summertime.

The frantic thudding in Riddle's chest slows. He leans into her touch, her fragrance.

"Okay," he says quietly. A slight wetness prickles his vision. "I think... I'd really like that, mom."

He stays there, in her embrace, for longer than he thinks he should. The minutes are slipping away from him, but Riddle cannot bring himself to pull away. The cradle of roses is enchanting, spilling wool over his eyes.

He is completely, utterly, certifiably entranced.

Ding-dong!

Mrs. Rosehearts lifts her head. "Hm? That's strange. That can't be your father. He doesn't get out of work for at least another hour--and he wouldn't need to ring the doorbell, he has his keys."

"It is odd," Riddle agrees.

"Excuse me, it will take just a moment to check. Perhaps it's the mailman."

Mrs. Rosehearts gathers herself and departs. From the study, Riddle can hear the front door swinging open, followed by muffled chatter. Excited, boyish.

His mother's voice, raising.

Dread fills him.

He abruptly stands, his chair harshly skidding back with an unpleasant whine.

Riddle races into the hallway and to the foyer. He's not sure which is faster: his heart, or his feet? His mind struggles to catch up, to process everything--

The front door is ajar.

His mother, on one side. And on the other...

Two young men.

One with short hair in dark green and bright yellow eyes peering out from behind thick frames. He holds a hefty cake in his hands--a shortcake iced in whipped cream frosting. The strawberries piled on top shine like forbidden jewels.

Beside him is a boy with choppy bangs, a pair of feline ears bearing a plethora of earrings pokes out from his head. He has a lazy grin and disheveled clothes, reclining like a sunbathing cat against the first visitor.

His friends spot him before his mom does, and their faces light up.

"Uh-oh, guess the cat's out of the bag now," Che'nya giggles.

"Wh-What are you two doing here?!" Riddle demands. Not angry, but fearful. He nervously glances at Trey--Trey, whom his mother had angrily banished from their home until the end of time.

"We wanted to drop by and surprise you," Trey explains. He's too calm for this situation--especially when Mrs. Rosehearts is standing right there.

Any minute now, Riddle suspects she will explode. She will scream at Trey and Che'nya until she is a darker red than her hair. She will slam the door in their faces. She will threaten to call the police. She will--

"Riddle, you didn't tell me your friends would be joining us this evening!" Mrs. Rosehearts beams, stepping aside and waving for the boys to enter. "Please, come in! You can spend some time together before dinner.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“Myaaa-uch appreciated!”

Trey and Che’nya cross the threshold with ease.

Riddle blinks. “But what about my studies…?”

“Studies? At a time like this?” Trey gives a light laugh. “We’re not at school, Riddle. You can relax a little. Just let me put this cake away and then we can all hang out, okay?”

“My father is already going to be bringing a tart later…”

“Oooh, double the desserts? Don’t mind if I do! I’ll swipe two slices of both.”

“Don’t be greedy, Che’nya! You have to save some for the rest of us, especially the birthday boy.”

“Me?” Riddle’s brows crease. “I…”

“It’s fine,” his mother coaxes. “Go and be with your friends.”

“Is that okay? Is that… really, really okay?”

Mrs. Rosehearts steps toward him, taking his hands in hers. Her eyes are dewey, and her face looks more gentle than he has ever seen it.

“Yes. This is your youth, Riddle. You only live once—so live this life to its fullest. If you could promise me that, then nothing would make me happier.”

“Mother…!”

Riddle tugs her into a hug. It is fast, it is fleeting, it is a flicker of light peeking through a keyhole. He opens that locked door and emerges on the other end.

He chokes out his response.

Two simple words, carrying all his hopes and dreams.

“I promise.”

And for the first time in forever, he smiles with all of his heart.

But beyond the happy boy, cheeks streaked with tears, beyond the door that divided him from the world... a shadow hides in the shade of a rose tree.

It looks on, and smiles too.

"... It appears as though Rosehearts has have found his happily ever after at long last, fufu. How wonderful.”

[cibadiditoto]

This brings me to another question: after Chapter 7 is over, how will Idia introduce Silver? Like it or not, he's gonna have to tell them about the absolute parade of green flags (heh, get it?) he landed. Oh how will the joint family dinners go? Lilia and the Shrouds teaming up to embaress their sons while Malleus and Ortho hang out in the corner (I think they'd have a really cute friendship). Actually something tells me that both groups are already planning the Silidia wedding years in advance

well first he had to kidnap him

We still don't really know how Idia sees his parents truly, from what I see it's been in between of hesitation and comfort. Since book 7 is all about familial love, I'd say that Idia's relationship with his parents would be more visible later on.

I think Idia will first introduce Silver first as a fellow extreme blessing/curse holder. It seems that a gone-wrong type of blessings is quite rare to be found in twst wonderland (assumption, since there's no other character who bears it outside of Silver and the Shroud bloodline). Mama Shroud would be delighted to see Silver (and his 400 y.o curse). I'd say they wanted to 'check' on him for free since he's Idia's friend. Lilia will be concerned upon the last STYX incident with NRC overblotees, so him and Malleus will come for safety.

There will be joint family dinners, yes!! It's definitely a chance for Mama Papa Shroud to look at the subject- uh, Idia's beloved friend. They are definitely very happy to be met such a good mannered kid. I think they already knew Lilia beforehand since Lilia knew about Idia's grandma, which was supposed to be a secret? Since it's STYX (idk I'm still figuring out how tight they had to keep their personal identity) Malleus is unfortunately cannot mess around inside STYX or he might accidentally destroy some valuable devices, so they probably does the dinner outside the underground Bunker. And perhaps they will play at the park, Ortho will show Malleus his fav games and they will frolic happily lmao.

Both family then realize that what Idia and Silver had is something special... The Shrouds especially. They think that this is the first time they saw Idia just comfortable enough to talk with someone outside of Island of Woe, so they are slowly feel a bit hesitant with the whole 'experiment' shenanigans in their head hahaha

[mbgcreates]

Under the Mistletoe

Word count: 1481

A/N: You know what, sure, I'll put this one here. Also, THIS WON'T BE SITTING FOR ANOTHER YEAR!! This was started about two years ago, and I only just finished it 😅 enjoy! Remember, reblogs > likes! Thank you!

Dark is…nervous.

It's been a long time since he's felt this way; the closest he can recall is when Wilford gets overly trigger-happy at the worst of times and jeopardizes his plans, or when the man has one of his memory spells. But this…

Dark glances at the mistletoe hanging from the doorframe of his office, visible only from the inside. It’s been… Well, in another lifetime, he had attempted this tradition before and succeeded a few times, although he was much more nervous then than he is currently. Besides, times have changed. He’s a different man, now. One that he thought wasn’t so capable of something like “nervousness.” Do you even like him enough that this will work—

Nonetheless, he requested some time ago that you come to his office at your earliest convenience. He knows you won’t ignore it, because he hardly ever invites you there. If he does, it must be important. As this is. As you are.

He cannot focus on his paperwork in the interim. Instead of a refuge, it feels like an overwhelming mountain, stretching up almost indefinitely. He's not even sure why he has so much of it, a creature of the void as he is, but somehow, Wilford’s very existence comes with paperwork. The other egos cause headaches, but typically not paperwork. Not often, anyway.

And you. Somehow, you’ve managed to fit in with the craziness that is this revolving door of oddballs. It took time, but you’ve carved out your own niche, and the more aggressive of the bunch eventually stopped antagonizing you. Wilford, as was his wont, took you “under his wing,” which largely meant you’d run around doing increasingly inane errands until Dark had to step in. You weren’t built for that, after all. It was the first time he saw anything that wasn’t (fear) concern in your eyes when looking at him.

Dark sighs and shuffles some papers around. The dark wood of his desk pokes through, matched by the dreary wallpaper, black bookshelves with equally desaturated books, and dark wood flooring. It's like it's bearing down on him, suffocating him in his anxiousness instead of being a comfort. After the day he stepped in, you slowly began to spend a bit more time with him around the manor, and he found himself missing your presence on some days when you weren’t around.

Your footsteps announce your arrival far in advance, his supernatural hearing better than a human’s, and he actually has to take a deep breath to calm himself. In all honesty, the nerves wouldn't be that bad, but for him? Anything more than a little is too much.

He had discovered by way of accidentally overhearing that, despite appearances, you enjoyed the little things, especially the little romantic things. It was strange, to consider such concepts after so long, to let the idea germinate in his mind until an idea bloomed. An idea that he is still second-guessing until this very moment. He pretends to keep working until you rap on the door frame. "Dark? You asked to see me?"

"Ah, you're here." He shuffles the papers again, this time into a neat stack, acting as if everything is normal and you didn’t somehow borderline startle him. “I almost believed you wouldn’t show.”

You both know he said this on purpose; just another jab he can’t help but say. A deflection, now, habitual and not fully meant. You huff half-heartedly. “As if I wouldn’t. Can I come in?”

“Not quite yet.” He knows the anxiousness isn't evident (you’ve never seemed to notice before), but his reply is still rather quick. “We can have a discussion with you over there.”

You roll your eyes. Dark doesn't notice, too caught up in not looking at you. “Sure, real personal discussion. What even did you want to talk with me about?”

“You have been living here for quite some time now, and it looks like you will be here for quite some time longer.” His desk is tidied much too soon for his liking. “I take it everything is still satisfactory?”

“Well, yeah, I suppose so,” you reply, obviously confused. “Wilford is still…Wilford.”

“That he is. And that he will continue to be.” He’s forced to finally look up, and seeing you underneath the mistletoe is like something out of a dream: unreal. Too good to be true. Dark makes himself stand up, palms pressed firmly against the desk as if to steady himself. “If you have more trouble with him, or with anyone else, you know where to find me.”

“Oh, okay, thanks…?”

“I do think Wilford isn’t fully utilizing your talents, but he doesn’t always listen to me.” Dark finds his feet taking him forward, towards you.

“Really? You think so?” There’s a tinge of surprise in your voice, but it’s a good surprise. You didn’t think he would notice, he suspects.

“Yes. And with the days you spend in my office, we could figure out some way to harness and hone them. Maybe then, he’ll listen.”

“I mean, is it really a good idea to get in his way?”

The corner of Dark’s mouth twitches as he stops in front of you. You’re so…short, compared to him. “Well, of all people, I would be the best candidate.”

Amusement flickers into your eyes, and it makes you look that much lovelier. “I suppose you’re right. But still…”

“My dear, I think you should…aim higher. Look higher.” When you just blink at him, not picking up on his odd hint, he points upwards, towards the lintel. Your brows twitch in confusion, but you follow where he points. Your eyes catch the sprig of mistletoe, and he watches your expression as the gears turn in your mind, everything clicking into place. You look back at him in disbelief, and whether you’re aware of it or not, your cheeks are tinged with the beginnings of a blush. It makes him want to do this even more. Still, the words are not easy to say, tongue heavy in his mouth. “May I?”

You nod almost dumbly after a moment, and he brings his hand up to cup your face. It is of immense relief that you don’t recoil. If his heart still worked, it would be beating out of his chest. As it is, he can hear yours doing exactly that. It picks up as he closes the gap between you.

Dark brushes his lips against yours, the barest of touches, almost as if he's asking for permission again. When you don't pull away, he kisses you properly, surprisingly soft and chaste. (You didn't think he had it in him.) It’s over far too soon, and when he pulls back, your eyes flutter open to find him studying you. The moment is delicate, just the sound of your breathing as his eyes search yours and time seems to stretch into infinity. 

All you do is lean forward a little, and you seem to fall into each other, his lips meeting yours again, this time with a bit of urgency. You, instead of retreating, accept it, pressing towards him and tentatively lifting your own hand to his cheek. The reassurance flooding Dark is immediate, prompting him to bring your body closer to him. You inhale sharply in surprise, but again don’t move away, relaxing in his embrace. 

Despite the kissing lasting longer than expected, you removing your lips from his still happens much too quickly. Your face is fully flushed, now; he wonders if his cheeks convey the same.

Your voice is soft; one might call it breathless. “You had the discussion…just for that?”

“Well, I had to get you here somehow.” There’s a ghost of a toothy grin for a moment, before his face softens—actually softens, if but a little. “And I meant everything I said.”

Your eyes dart away, sheepish. “Oh…thanks…”

“How do you feel about dinner?”

Those were not words Dark expected out of his mouth, and nor did you, by the way your head whips back up toward him. “Dinner? We eat dinner at the manor all the time.”

“You know what I meant.” A genuine, small smile graces his face. “Just you and me.”

“Y-yeah.” You bite at your lip; he hears your heart rate jump up again. “That sounds…great. When?”

“Tonight, as long as everything goes according to plan.”

You give a small nod, then nod again, more definitively. “Yeah. Sounds good to me.”

“Splendid.” Dark kisses your forehead, then releases you. His arms already feel empty without you there. “I will come get you when everything is ready. I’ll see you later, darling.”

Darling. Something else that just slipped out. But it feels…right, to borrow that from the past. And, with the way you look at him after it, eyes shining with something he cannot yet fully place, perhaps he will keep calling you “darling.” And, maybe soon, his darling.

[sunflowersandsapphires]

See if it fits

Wake Up, Chapter 10 (THE FINALE)

Series Masterlist

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader 

summary: In an attempt to stop the advances of an unwanted suitor, Matt Murdock accidentally condemns you to being his fake girlfriend.

warnings: swearing, smut adjacent times, reader blames herself for SA (this is entirely an insecurity, survivors are NEVER at fault.), discussion of pressing charges (this piece is not meant to shame anyone who chooses not to seek legal reparations for harassment or assault, this is just setting up a future plot.)

a/n: WE MADE IT! Wow, I can’t believe it’s been 3 months since I first posted this fic, that’s crazy. I really hope this feels somewhat satisfying, I left it open ended because I may or may not be planning a follow up in this verse :)! I cannot thank y’all enough for bearing with me and following along. There will be more fun multi-chapter fics to come!!!

w/c: 4.5k

Your chin tilted up appreciatively as Matt pressed a kiss to your temple, the arm he had around you nestling you more firmly against his side. Your three mutual friends, situated around the large booth at Josie’s, exchanged knowing glances at the display of affection. 

“So…” Marci swished her drink around, looking between you and Matt with an arrogant smirk. “What changed?” 

“Nothing, we just…” Matt’s free hand gestured limply, giving no further explanation. 

“Stopped beating around the bush and admitted to having feelings for one another?” Karen asked with an air of fake politeness. 

“Realized that you were both miserable when you were avoiding each other?” Foggy snorted. 

“Finally looked at your relationship and had a ‘come to Jesus’ moment because you two have actually been dating for months now under an incorrect label?” Marci smiled, clearly amused by Matt’s blush and your avoidant eyes. 

“Yah, yah, all of that.” Matt groused, taking a swig of his beer as he rolled his eyes. 

“And after one night, some asshole was able to get you to confess your love. Truly doing what none of us could.” Foggy let out an incredulous laugh as Marci and Karen giggled at the joke but Matt had gone rigid beside you, not seeing the humor in such a traumatic event. 

“That’s not funny, Foggy.” He muttered, his rumbling tone heavily inked with a darker quality that you knew lurked beneath his surface. 

“What even happened to you two that night?” Cruising right past Matt’s angry comment, Marci gazed at you intently. Your friends had been given small details, but only Matt knew the identity of the man that had captured you, and, as far as you knew, all of them were oblivious to your previous issues with him. 

“Um, well, that’s kind of a long story?” You answered, lamely, stirring your drink and focusing intently on the way it twirled around the glass. 

“She doesn’t have to relive a near death experience to satisfy your curiosity.” Matt snapped, muscles flexing as he pushed in front of you protectively. 

Marci raised her hands in surrender as Foggy and Karen exchanged nervous glances. “Woah there, big shot, I wasn’t—“ 

“Did you not just ask her for the story of how she was attacked because she hadn’t told you yet? I’m pretty sure—“ 

“Matt,” Hooking an arm around the one he had securely thrown across your belly, your palm came up to grasp his shoulder and pull him back. “Hey, she was asking a valid question. They deserve to know.”

His face turned to yours, you could just make out the flurry of rage and concern in his stunning brown eyes behind their red lenses. “You don’t have to tell anyone anything. No one is owed an explanation.” There was an edge to his words that gave you the impression that he might know more than just the small amount you’d told him. 

“I know.” You smiled wanly. “But I haven’t been truly honest with any of you about that night. You all at least deserve that.” 

Clenching his jaw, Matt held you close as you took a deep breath. The rough pads of his fingers drew soft patterns under the hem of your blouse as you began recounting the worst days of your life. 

“The man that took me…was James Lannister.” Assuming it was better to rip the bandaid off, you started with the worst of the omitted details. Understandably, Marci, Foggy, and Karen all gaped at you from across the table until Karen broke the silence. 

“The attorney that was fired from PBA months ago? What on earth did he want with you?”

Biting your lip, you avoided their inquisitive eyes as you admitted your sin. “He wanted revenge. Because I got him fired.” 

The three of them took in the new development silently. You let your mind linger on the pleasant warmth of Matt’s palm around your waist before continuing. 

“James Lannister found me when I was working as a waitress in a shitty diner in Queens. After befriending me during my shifts, he offered me a position in his office. I was Lannister’s assistant for almost two years. No one knows this about me except a handful of people at PBA because I have since scrubbed it from my personal records and asked to keep my position and supervisor during that time confidential.” As your voice began to crack, you downed the rest of your drink. 

“You don’t have to—“ Foggy looked at you worriedly, but you waved him off. 

“It’s fine. I'm fine.” Matt gave a nearly silent growl beside you, clearly not convinced by the lie. “Like I said, I covered up that part of my life, but I worked for him for a significant period of time. During those two years, Lannister groomed me. He used me as a tool to end his relationship with his wife and then took his anger out on me when the settlement didn’t go his way. He abused and assaulted me and I was powerless to stop him for months. When the spot opened up in the midtown office, I jumped at the chance to escape. A coworker who had witnessed the abuse helped me report it and they transferred me.” 

Matt nudged his beer towards you as your vocal chords tightened around the words spilling out of your mouth. Somehow, he didn’t seem as surprised as the others by your tale of woe. “Thanks, love. After I was transferred, there was a very very lengthy investigation and, at the tail end of it, I was promoted. He was also up for the promotion, but when the investigation proved that he’d been a less than stellar employee, he was fired instead. Obviously, he holds me responsible for that.” 

Around the table, no one spoke. Foggy’s hand clenched tightly around his bottle, Marci looked furious, and Karen had gone white as a sheet. Clearing your throat, you pressed on. 

“I won’t traumatize you with any of the details but most people think that someone made up the allegations, even if they don’t know that it was me, personally, who spoke up about it. Moving on to the first night of the conference, you all know I was leaving the hotel after Matt and I had a…stupid conversation,” Matt winced beside you and you squeezed his thigh gently. “And I was planning on going home. But I was stopped by Lannister…and Beatrice Snyder.” 

A strangled noise sounded from your boyfriend at the inclusion of a familiar character. “Please tell me she didn’t…” 

You laughed, mirthlessly. “I wish I could, love. She was one of the people who thought I made everything up, except she knew it was me who reported him. I have no idea who told her, but all that time ago, when I freaked out at the Liberty Gala, that’s what she accused me of. She thought I was wrongfully punishing a man who had refused my advances and stealing his promotion. Handing me over to him was sort of a two birds, one stone thing, I guess. She wanted Lannister to be vindicated and she wanted Matt to think I was a cheating piece of shit. So she could finally have him.” 

Tears were pooling in your eyes now, but it wasn’t just from sadness or embarrassment. You were angry. Livid, in fact. Apparently, with all the “almost dying” and whatnot, you’d never processed how horrible you felt about Snyder trying to lie about you and swipe Matt from under your fake-girlfriend-soon-to-be-real-girlfriend nose. 

“That fucking bitch.” Karen snarled and Foggy nodded emphatically. 

Marci pointed a finger at Foggy. “The next time I see her, I swear—“ 

“Please don’t!” You squeaked, a few tears breaking the surface tension barrier and making their way down your cheeks. “I know that this is a lot of information and you are obviously going to draw new conclusions about the people involved, me included, but…I just want things to stay the way they were. Please.” 

“Sweetheart, I’m not sure we can do that.” Matt used a thumb to swipe the moisture from your face. “You matter so much to us, of course we care about what happened to you.” You fell against his solid chest with a sniffle and he kissed the crown of your head. 

“Matt’s right.” Foggy added gently. “What they did to you was not ok. We won’t do anything you don’t want us to do, but you should at least consider pressing charges.” 

“I‘ve tried that before.” You murmured tiredly, burying your face against Matt’s neck. “Lannister is still respected by most of the cops, attorneys, and judges in this city. I didn’t stand a chance then and I don’t now.” 

“You didn’t have us before.” Karen says, her gaze ferocious but kind. 

“Karen’s right. You have 4 attorneys backing you now.” Marci nodded, clearly already working through the details of the case in her head. 

“If we could get the coworker to testify—“ Foggy jumped in, making notes in his phone. 

“Guys, wait…” You pleaded, but your quiet tone was ignored. 

“Foggy is right, a coworker testimony would be crucial. And we’d just want to thoroughly vet the judge before filing, to be sure he wouldn’t have the upper hand. But we could file in both criminal and civil courts and give us a better chance of success.” Matt’s attention was fully on the other 3 attorneys, his arm no longer shielding you from the world or your bubbling panic. 

“No, I don’t want—“ They still weren’t listening. Your breathing turned shallow, why did the walls suddenly feel like they were closing in on you? The voices around you blurred as your skin turned clammy. You clenched and unclenched your fists repeatedly in an attempt to bring yourself out of an impending anxiety attack. 

Behind you, a glass shattered—scattering the few remnants of your calm demeanor across the bar with the shards. You jumped, whirling around to find the source of the noise. A hand clamped around your wrist and you flinched, turning to see Matt’s worried face flash with hurt. 

“I-I can’t—“ You panted, “I gotta go.” And with that final display of bravery, you fled the dive bar and retreated to your apartment.  

Inhaling deeply, you tried to ground yourself by focusing on the heat of the mug in your hands. Whisps of steam spiraled upwards toward your eager face, dancing across your cheeks in a tender caress. You got all of 5 minutes to wallow in self pity before he caught up to you. 

The window in your bedroom slid open, which would have alarmed you if you weren't confident that it was your concerned ninja boyfriend. His stern voice did catch you off guard, however.

“What were you thinking?” Arms crossed, you could almost smell his rage, the devil gnashing its teeth behind his glowering eyes. 

“I'm sorry, Matty,” His nostrils flared at the nickname, clearly rejecting your attempt to soothe his spurt of protective anger. “You were right, it was too much, I--”

Matt was practically alight with indignation. “You cannot just run off like that. Not after your track record.” 

“My track record?” That comment stung, plucking a string that ran straight to the core of your insecurities.

No doubt sensing the shift in your tone,  Matt changed tactics with a sigh.  “Lovely, you of all people know how dangerous it is out there—“

“You think it was my fault.” Your voice wavered, not daring to look at him and see resigned agreement. 

“Of course not.” Matt denied firmly, but you held onto your suspicion nontheless. Hands held out in a placating gesture, he moved towards you. “Never. I just…I worry about you.” 

“I’m fine.” Your boyfriend flinched at the lie. 

“Both of us know that’s not true.” His blank eyes darted around your face, searching for any path past the walls you were putting up. Clearly something he'd said had been misconstrued, he would never blame you for the actions of monsters, but it had forced your guard up anyway. Wetting his lips with his tongue, he sat beside you on the couch, trying not to let his face betray how devastated he was by your physical and emotional distance.  “Sweetheart, why don’t you want to press charges?” 

“What?” You looked to him in surprise, not expecting him to get right to the root of your distress.

“That’s what set your anxiety off, isn’t it?” It was less of a question and more of a statement.

“Matt I don’t—“ You started, but he held up a finger to stop you as a scream echoed in the distance. Holding your shoulders high as your heart clenched, you set your jaw and allowed your consciousness to sink back into emotional numbness. “Go.”

“Angel, I don't--” Conflict was etched into his features, softening your resolve.

”It's ok, Matt.“ You ran a hand over his arm as you reassured him honestly. ”Go, let the devil out. We can have a more productive conversation when you've given your alter ego the space he needs and I've sorted through my own emotional turmoil.”

“I don't want to leave you like this.” Matt's voice was soft with hesitation and strife. He reached a hand towards you in silent offering.

Squeezing his outstretched fingers, your stomach ached with sympathy. “And I'm asking you to. As much as I adore your company, I know myself pretty well. I need time to process my own thoughts and emotions. I love you, and we both know you need to attend to whatever is going on out there.“

Kissing your forehead, Matt nodded in understanding.”I love you too.“ 

”I know. I'll be here when you get back.“ You promised as he walked into your bedroom and leapt out the window.

Recentering your mug in your shaky palms,  you sighed as you realized the heat had dissipated in the time you'd neglected the drink. Standing on wobbling legs, you shuffled to the stove to boil it once more.

Ripping his mask off, Matt ran a hand through his sweat-damp hair as he debated his next move. The city hadn't asked much from him tonight, simply guiding him through a web of petty crimes before he landed in his apartment at a semi-decent hour. 

Each hit thrown had steadily chipped away at the swirling mass of anger that had been building in his chest for hours, leaving a trail of regret and guilt in its wake. His heart hammered at the thought of facing you again, after the way he'd acted. After scolding you for taking care of yourself and accusing you of putting yourself in danger, of course you assumed he blamed you for the violence you'd experienced. God, he was such an idiot. He didn't deserve you.

Swallowing the lump of insecurity that rose in his throat, he stripped off the suit and stalked into the shower, already brainstorming his much needed apology.

Across Hell's Kitchen, you turned fitfully on your mattress, failing to let sleep drag you under despite your exhaustion. Threads of apprehension knit together a string of self deprecating thoughts, weaving an intricate trap that you'd barely avoided since Matt left. Voices rang through your brain, making you wince with each word. Your fault. You’re so pathetic. Slut. Not with your track record. Whore. Shrew. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault.

You whined, curling into a ball and throwing your hands over your ears. But the voices didn't quiet down. 

You did this to yourself. You were asking for it. You think you’re a victim? You are so stupid. 

Shivers wracked your body as you wrapped a pillow around your head, the soft feathers unable to silence the imaginary accusations. Heaving quivery breaths, you tightened your fingers around the fabric in your fingers until your knuckles ached. With the subtle pain to hold your attention, you willed your lungs to hold the air for longer than a millisecond. 

Sniffling through stifled cries, your throat felt tighten as your heart pounded, stabbing a dull ache into your temples with each pulse. You were so engrossed in the storm of emotional instability that you didn't hear the window sliding open. Yelping as a hand touched your shoulder, you flew out of the bed, landing haphazardly on the wood floor in a pile of frantic limbs. 

“Woah, easy there, angel, it's me.” Keeping an admirable distance, Matt crouched in your line of sight, giving you time to adjust to his presence. Dressed in a worn shirt and sweatpants, his cheeks were tinged pink with exertion and his damp hair was ruffled—he must have hurried back to you. Although the thought of your boyfriend rushing to your side after tending to the city made your heart swell with adoration, your frayed nerves triggered a defensiveness within you.

“You couldn't have used the door?” You snapped, baring your hurt to him rather than letting your guard down and revealing the terror beneath. Grimacing at Matt's shocked expression, you recoiled at your own standoffishness. “I'm sorry, you just startled me.”

Frowning at the defeated tone you held, Matt scooted over to your collapsed form. “I thought you'd be asleep, angel. When I got close enough to hear your heart rate, I panicked. What happened?” Offering you a hand up that you timidly accepted, he sat you on the bed, kneeling before you and gazing up inquisitively. 

“Dunno. I was doing ok and then...I just wasn't.” Your breath hitched with the confession, pulling stale tears from your waterline. Traitors.

“You should've called me.” Matt's thumb ran lines over the back of your hand. 

Biting your lip, you closed your eyes. “I–I never want to make you choose between me and the city, that's not fair.” 

Nodding, Matt frowned. “I appreciate that, sweetness, but I will always always come help you.” Putting a mental pin in that conversation, he sat against your headboard and, risking rejection, lifted you tenderly into his lap. Breathing out a sigh of relief, you inadvertently leaned into the kisses he placed against your aching head. 

“I'm so sorry, beautiful girl. I didn't mean to snap at you earlier, that wasn't smart of me. It made you feel bad, huh?” Matt placed a gentle kiss on the bridge of your nose as you nodded miserably, glistening tears pouring down your cheeks. ”I apologize, but I need you to know I wasn't angry with you. It seemed like I was, I get that, but I promise I was just worried and I let my emotions get the better of me.“

”I'm sorry too.“ You murmured, gratefully falling into the hands that came to cradle your face. ”I should have been more careful.“

”Oh no, sweet thing, I didn't mean that. Nothing that those men did is your fault, ok? Nothing. I will tell you that a hundred times a day if I need to. I have never blamed you for their actions, ok? Hand to God.“

”Pinky promise?“ You sniffled quietly, pressing a lone pinky against the back of one of his. 

With an airy chuckle, Matt linked your fingers together. ”Pinky promise.“ 

”Thank you.“ 

”No need to thank me, sweetness. I just hope you'll forgive me.“

”You're already forgiven.“ You murmured, pressing your lips to Matt's. 

Tangled in each other’s arms, you happily let Matt trace patterns along your spine, beginning to nod off in his secure hold. Cupping your chin, Matt nudged his nose against yours. “I know you’re tired, lovely, but you should drink some water. Maybe take an Advil too, for that headache of yours.” 

Yawning, you nuzzled further into Matt’s neck. “How d’you know about that?” 

“I have special Devil senses. They help me tell when my darling girl isn’t feeling good.” He jested, pinching your cheek lightly. 

You smiled, accepting the glass he offered you and drinking greedily. Setting the now empty glass back on your nightstand, Matt settled into the mattress and pulled you with him. 

Sleep lapped at the brink of your consciousness, spurred on by the warmth of your personal space heater of a boyfriend. “I was thinking…” Matt’s rumbling whisper began, “We’ve never gone on a proper date, since we got together. Would you like to have dinner with me this week?” 

Humming contentedly, your lips broke into a small smile. “Yes please.” 

Kissing your forehead, Matt smiled back at you. “Ok, my sweet girl. I’ll plan something for us while you sleep.”

“I love you, Matty.” 

“I love you too, angel.” 

Waking up with you in his arms continued to be a small slice of heaven that Matt was sure neither he nor his Devil deserved. Pressing a kiss to your head, he inhaled deeply–centering himself with your delicate scent–before making his way to the kitchen to start coffee. Slipping out of your slumbering grasp, he padded blearily out of the bedroom, shuddering slightly at the abrupt lack of warmth around him. 

Once the coffee machine was whirring, Matt sank onto his worn couch, opening his laptop to listen to some emails he’d received the night before. After responding to one, a smile grew on his face when he heard an uptick in your pulse as you shifted on the bed. 

Patiently waiting for his coffee to brew, he refrained from returning to the covers to shush you and help you back to sleep. Unfortunately, this meant you had fully left the bed before he could encourage you to stay there.  

Soft footsteps rung throughout the loft as you walked towards him, yawning the whole time. 

“Good morning, sweet thing. You didn’t need to get out of bed yet,” Though he was still smiling (his grin was nearly constant in your presence), he almost pouted in sympathy as he heard your groggy voice respond. 

“Didn’t want to be in bed anymore,” You explained with a shrug, settling into his lap with a content little sigh. “Wanted to be with you.”

Fuck, that tugged on his heart strings. Gasping slightly at the outpouring of affection from you, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and hooked his chin over your head. “Then I guess we’ll both have to relax today, huh.” 

Nodding vigorously, one of your hands came up to cradle his face, gently rubbing over his stubble. “Mmm I like that plan. And any other plan that involves Matthew Murdock resting. He’s pretty averse to that, you know.” 

Huffing out a laugh, Matt poked your stomach. “I am not ‘averse’ to resting!” 

“Oh yah? So you wouldn’t be listening to emails on this bright, early Sunday morning? Rather than, I don’t know, staying in bed with your sleeping girlfriend?” 

Chuckling, Matt shrugged, “I wanted coffee!” 

“You’re deflecting, counselor.” You hummed, pressing an inviting kiss to his lips and pulling back all too quickly for Matt’s liking. His hands caught your neck, trying to tug your lips back to his as he whined involuntarily, but you just smiled. “I’m getting you that coffee you wanted so badly.” Matt hadn’t even realized the machine had sounded, far too focused on your body and the delicious sounds it was making as it teased him. 

You tried to get up from the couch, but Matt’s arms caught you in a vice grip. He growled lightly, burying his face in your neck and nipping at the junction where it collided with your shoulder. 

“Matty, darling,” You laughed brightly, leaning into his nuzzles and bites as you tried to reason with him. “As much as I do want you to rest today, I’m going to need coffee so that I don’t pass out immediately.”

“You can pass out,” Matt murmured against your sweet skin. “I don’t mind.” 

Tracing a hand up his back and into his hair, you smiled. “Well, I mind. I have something I want to do today that I need to be awake for.” 

“Wh-What’s that?” Matt rumbled, struggling to stay coherent as you massaged his scalp. 

“I, uh,” You suddenly hesitated, Matt tilted his head as your guard slid up ever so slightly. “I was thinking of going to the 10th precinct and, um, filing charges.” 

Your pulse stuttered, your body giving away your discomfort—with either the idea of filing or his reaction, he wasn’t sure. Maybe both. 

“That’s, that’s great, sweetness, but I don’t want you to do anything just because people you care about suggested it—“

“No, I want to. Well, want might not be the right word, but I…I think it’d be smart. To file at least a protective order and to get something on paper for the whole hostage situation.”

“I agree, love. Always a good idea to make a paper trail, right?” Matt asked lightly, as he rubbed a hand over your arm—trying to silently remind you that you were safe, that you could be vulnerable with him. 

Hiding your face in his shoulder, you bit your lip, weighing the consequences of the question you wanted to ask. Apprently reading your thoughts, Matt pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

“You can ask me anything, love.” 

Shoving his shoulder, you glared at him. “You know it’s really creepy when you do that.” Matt laughed in response. 

“You don’t think it’s creepy, you feel more comfortable when I read you like that. Your heart rate always slows down.” 

Rolling your eyes, you stifled a smile. “Fucking show off.” 

“For you my dear? Always.” Resting his brow against yours, Matt’s blank eyes formed an almost stern expression. “What did you want to ask me, lovely?”

“Will you, er, I mean—“ You sighed, drawing in a deep breath before spitting out the query. “Will you actually help me if I file? Like, legally?”

“Oh, angel, of course!” Pulling back from you, Matt’s words held so much affection and genuine care that you felt a lump growing in your throat. “I will do everything in my power to see that man locked away for good.” 

You giggled as his voice deepened to a snarl, the Devil showing his face for a moment as the memories of your kidnapping resurfaced. “As Matt Murdock or the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen?” 

“Both.” He growled, hands instinctively clenching around you. 

Cradling his face between your palms, you drew your protective boyfriend into a heated kiss.

Shifting from foot to foot, you glanced at the brick facade apprehensively. As you ran through the possible ways this could blow up in your face, Matt’s steady hand clasped around your trembling one. 

“We can go home right now, sweet girl.” He reminded you gently, squeezing your hand comfortingly. For a moment, another night flashed before your eyes, as if the precinct was the venue for the Liberty Gala you’d attended all those weeks ago. 

“No. He deserves to be put away. I’m going to make that happen.” You said defiantly. 

Matt dropped your hand and slid an arm around your waist. “I’ll be here every step of the way, sweetness.”

Nodding to yourself, you blew out a breath. “Right. Let’s do this.” Taking your boyfriend’s arm, you led him up the steps and into the bustling precinct. 

It wasn’t clear what the future would hold, but the pair of you would get through it together. That, you were sure of.

Taglist: @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @scoliobean @harperdoodle @mattkinsella @leikelle @sweetbee0108 @dark-night-sky-99 @fallen-angels2213 @will-delete-this-later-probably @cheshirecat484 @thornbushrose @vernon-dursley

[cutiecusp]

So... @xoxunhinged has totally inspired me to brain to fingertips and type up a lil' something.

A TINY drabble that I'll work on, but I can't get thos idea of out of my head.

Tw. Religious wording, smut so MDNI!, power play.. mentions of oral, worship, more to be added as it evolves i guess? NOT spellchecked, so apologies in advance!

You confess to Father John Price.

His fist clutches the rosary in his left hand, as Father John smells your sweet perfume. Even though you are hidden by the dark wood trellis of the confessional booth, he knew it was you.

" How long has it been since your last confession?" His gruff tone asks, and pauses.

"And what sins are you confessing to today?"

You squirm in your seat, trying to not make it obvious how much his voice makes you melt.

"Uh.. its been three weeks since my last confession Father... I've been having indecent thoughts about a man i cannot have."

You hear him sigh in the next booth over, and you just know he's about to ask.

"Tell me, why can you not have this man? Is he married?" He asks gently. Judgement was not John's duty, but he couldn't bear hearing you talk about another man, not when he was desperate for you.

"In a way, yes." Came your sweet reply, your voice soft and smooth like honey as you tried to keep pressing your thighs together on the wooden stool.

"Well, he's married to his work."

A gruff chuckle escapes from the next booth.

"Well, is there a way you could change his mind?" He asks, lightheartedly.

A silence fills the booths, as you ponder what to say next. You hadn't planned to getting this far, and you were nervous.

"I don't know." You pause. "Is there a way I can distract you from work?" You ask softly.

John adjusts himself on the stool, his trousers getting tighter as he answers quickly.

"Me? Surely that's inappropriate?" He admonishes. "I'm a man of God after all."

You pause. This was THE make or break moment that would seal your fate forever. You wet your bottom lip, and take a deep breath.

" Then allow me to get on my knees and worship you." You plead softly.

John's mind races, imagining you knelt in front of him, taking him into your mouth,your glossy lips taking pleasure in pleasing him, in his own kingdom. His hands running through your hair as he controls the pace of his sweet, little lamb as you gag around his cock.

You don't waste time as you slip into his booth, and drop to your knees.

TBC.

[aralisj]

So I'm in the process of maybe getting an autism diagnosis and I just rewatched The Bear and I feel like Carmy is VERY autistic coded:

Likes routines (consistency)

Creative and flourishing in his chosen field

VERY task focused (when he's cooking HE IS COOKING - esp. at the kids party and the flashback scene with Michael)

Detail oriented (toothbrush cleaning)

Stimming (fiddles with spoons)

Cannot stand specific sounds (~ballbreaker~)

Plans in advance

Gets overwhelmed when plans suddenly change (esp. ep 7)

Very few friends, no romantic relationships

Special interest (cooking & vintage denim)

Has trouble expressing and identifying his own emotions/takes a long time to process them

Has trouble reading other people's emotions, understanding jokes, and doing small talk

Someone back me up or tell me if I'm just projecting my shit on him, please and thank youuuu 💜

[lostcauses-noregrets]

I want to ask you a question that is considered stupid🌚Do you think that Erwin still loves Mary even when she is married to his friend nile? I see a lot of people saying that he still love her and I think that's really not true because Erwin is not that kind of person who love his best friend wife,and also in one of his official interviews he said that he wants to start a family if the Titans disappear and this is proof that he has moved on and his life is not dependent on Mary. I want to know your answer so that I can rest, because this woman i envy her so much 😭

Not a stupid question at all. This is one that comes up a LOT and I've answered it many times before.

Erwin only mentions Marie once in the manga, in chapter 53. In the English translation he tells Nile he was "quite taken" with Marie when he was a cadet. That always sounded a bit luke-warm to me, but @tsuki-no-ura has confirmed that in the original Japanese he does actually say that he was "in love" with Marie. However he also tells Nile that, as a Survey Corps soldier, he could not live the way he does, with a wife and family.

The thing that some people often overlook is that the whole point of this conversation is that Erwin is attempting to manipulate Nile in advance of the uprising by reminding him that although he chose the path that allowed him to marry Marie, he still cannot protect his family from the threat that faces them all.  Erwin is planting a little seed of doubt in Niles mind, and it bears fruit in chapter 61, when Erwin is in prison and he asks Nile again how Marie and the family are doing and where they now live.  Nile replies they they live in the eastern section of Wall Rose some distance from Stohess.  Later, when Anka makes her dramatic entrance to the throne room to report that the Titans have broken through the wall, it’s no surprise that the location of the alleged incursion is the eastern part of Wall Rose in Stohess District. It’s all part of Erwin’s plan to get Nile to support the uprising. 

There's no indication from the manga that Erwin remained in love with Marie, or that she reciprocated his feelings or even knew about his infatuation. However, there are two Smartpass stories that show that Erwin had no hard feelings against Nile for marrying Marie, and that he continued to hold them both in some affection. Erwin’s Letter tells how Erwin put his own feelings for Marie aside and helped Nile to write a love letter to her.  This story also tells us that Erwin never regretted his decision to join the Survey Corps.  In The Incident of the Scout’s Mysterious Advertisement Erwin and some of Nile's old comrades write letters congratulating Nile on the birth of his second child. However because they are leaving for an expedition, and do not have time to post the letters, Erwin leaves them in a store room and then places a coded advertisement in a newspaper that will lead Nile to the letters.

All this suggests to me that while Erwin may have loved Marie in his youthful cadet days, he no longer continued to hold a torch for her once he had made his decision to join the Survey Corps.

So there you have it. The good news is that there is no need to envy Marie. The bad news is that you definitely should envy Levi ;)

[gojobait]

i think the reason re8 wasn't as well executed as re7 is because they tried to convey too many things at once.

in re7 the main villain is a 10 year old girl abused by a secret corporation that wants to turn her into a bioweapon when all she wants is a normal family. however she has only ever known authority and hierarchy, not the love and affection that should exist within an actual family, therefore she is only able to create a toxic home with a strict hierarchy where every new member is at the bottom of the food chain. jack is the abusive father who delights in torturing his children, marguerite is reduced to her reproductive organs, as her role is solely that of the mother who bears new children, and is otherwise just a very disguting annoyance. lucas is the product of this toxic home, showing that it isn't genetics that play the biggest role in the child's education (he has been cured of the mold and is acting solely of his own free will) and that cycles of violence and abuse are not easily broken. however they can be broken, and we see that in zoe, who goes out of her way and risks her own life to help ethan. mia, while technically the "younger sibling", is probably just a step above lucas in the hierarchy because of her bond with eveline and her ability to adapt. when ethan "joins" the little family unit, he is nothing but the scared little kid who's just trying to run and hide from his father, a practically impossible task in the claustrophobic house.

this all works because this is all the game is about. it's not trying to be anything else or to make bigger statements or commentary. the first re game was about the collapse and moral corruption of modern society (with the cannibal zombies) as well as the obsession with modernizing warfare by developing bioweapons to be used arbitrarily on the civilian population, who become mere test subjects for the military industrial complex.

re7 focuses on the moral decay of the family unit as a sort of case study for the larger aforementioned collapse of modern society, as it is both a direct result of a human-made biochemical disaster and the sum of every toxic and abusive ideal of patriarchal society.

re8 at its core is about pollution, with moreau being the most self explainatory case. however, the problem with re8 is that every one of the four lords represents a different thing, and the player doesnt really get enough time with any of them to really unpack anything. re8 tries to recreate the family unit we had in re7 but at the same time it wants to talk about how the nobility is nothing but a very pretty looking blood sucking parasite, and also about how pollution is bad for the fish, and about how technological advancement requires the utter annihilation of the natural landscape to make way for factories that produce machine-human hybrids, but it's also about family.

mother miranda tries to make a family for herself, but she fails miserably as she isn't interested in any of her "children", instead focused on exploiting them to create the perfect child. alcina, the nobility, has some pretty evident issues with authority; she's used to being the ruling class, the one with all the power and who exploits those below her; she also has daughters of her own, so she clearly isn't interested in miranda's plans. moreau is the most pathetic and also most obvious Lord Of Pollution, as there is nothing else really going on with him. he is a poisonous creature the spreads disease at his every breath. heisenberg is the rebellious son who wants to break away from his overbearing mother's control, the mother who put him on earth without his permission, who changed him without his permission, but he is the worst kind of pollution that exists: war. he cannot break the cycle and is not interested in doing so.

donna is the one that stands out the most to me, as she doesnt really represent any kind of physical pollution, but rather something that is plaguing our modern society on a much larger scale than ever before: metal illness. she is also the one who, more than any other lord, personifies the theme of the sick and twisted family; she taunts ethan with his insecurities about being a parent, about his own body and his own "wrongs" that his child might have inherited from him (scary giant fetus). she also makes him to take apart a mannequin modeled after mia, his dead wife, forcing him to deal with his grief and and fear to lose the only family he has left: rose.

it's not a bad game at all, and every lord is a very compelling villain (except maybe moreau) but the game doesnt give any of them nearly enough time to be developed fully and to be truly, undeniably monstrous. not to mention mother miranda, who barely feels like a villain by the end of the game, she's just annoying.

tl;dr: it's a good game, i realy liked it, but it could have benefited from having less characters and from focusing more on the horror than on the action doom-like style of gameplay

[ofcourseiwillmydarling]

I’m 20 and a full - time student.

You can call me ‘Honey’ or whatever you like, i don’t mind nicknames :) My pronouns are she - her.

— I <3 metal and rock but I’m also a big Lana Del Rey fan! My work will probably be influenced by her aesthetic and songs :)

I love to write - or at least, attempt to - and make moodboards ! English is not my first language so I apologise in advance for any grammatical errors - inconsistencies in my work (and introduction lol). I am really big on bikers - motorcycle clubs (fictional and not) and most of my work will focus on them; I do, however, plan to write for the walking dead and supernatural in the future.

! DO NOT INTERACT IF YOU ARE A MINOR. I cannot control what you might read - stumble upon on tumblr but please do not interact with me or my posts if you are underage.

— Please keep messages kind and respectful! This is a judgment free zone, I’d like it to be a safe space for everyone! No judgement or being mean; feel free to share your smuttiest thoughts on our favourite men (and women ;P) , do not be shy to interact with me! I love to talk and hear about random thoughts <3

As in for my writing (and moodboards) - requests - prompts, I will mainly write for Jax Teller, Johnny Davis & Benny Cross. Again do not be shy to send in your requests about the characters not mentioned here! I will write for any character of your choice, the ones mentioned above are a very small fraction of a loong list. Please keep in mind this is my first time posting any of my work, be patient and do not be afraid to send back a feedback or criticism to help me improve !

Most of my work will be x fem! reader, but I will gladly write gender neutral or whatever you have in mind! I will try to keep it as neutral as possible, so if you’d like something more close to what meets your criteria (physical appearance, personality, style etc) feel free to send a VERY specific prompt — if you like, we can discuss it in DMs to get the best outcome :) — and even pictures, whatever you believe might help me create the best possible answer for you. <3

— About my moodboards…be as specific as possible! The majority (if not all) of the pictures I use come from Pinterest, I will try my best to credit the rightful owners but its nearly impossible to trace the original creators - owners. If they are yours PLEASE!!! notify me so I can give credit or remove!

Feel free to send me DMs, asks, prompts, rambles…whatever you like! I love to chat and meet new people, especially if we share the same interests!

Lastly, I am new to tumblr and how everything works so bear with me! I will try to update this introduction and, in the future, add a masterlist for my work :)

Love,

Honey <3

[llonelygoddess]

I'm almost finished with my oc's ref to share with you! ^^ in the meantime... How about the almighty quest of finding the perfect birthday gift for darling? What lengths will they go to figure it out/get it?

Expect me again VERY soon!

Thank you so much for the request! It's helped majorly with my writers block, and I love your OC! Very adorable!!

With Dawn, it’ll be as simple as showing you a cute TikTok that has something she thinks you might like or pointing out things in magazines ( she’s a magazine girly, loves ordering stuff from random ‘zines). Though, if she sees you’re stressed out she fully abandons her gift idea for the moment. She knows how crazy it can be living with the family and in this small town so she asks the family if she can take you away for a weekend to give you a break from the chaos that is your life. Once you’re relaxed and enjoying some rest time she gives you a self care kit stocked with bath supplies, dvds you love, smelly candles, fidgets, a new journal and something from your favorite hobby. 

For some reason, Ricky just KNOWS what you want. It would be weird if he didn’t get literally the PERFECT gift. His gift comes in three parts: a letter, the gift, and a commemorative bear. He gets you one every year from Build a Bear so you both can go through the whole process of picking it out, putting a heart in with scents or a voice box, and getting a certificate (He keeps the certificate as his own little memory keepsake). 

Maeve will spend hours reading all the books she can borrow from the bookstore to find the perfect one for you. She scours the genres from romance and adventure to the scary stuff like Splatter punk. ( Don’t look it up, trust me it gets fucked up lol) When it comes time to give you the gift she’ll set up a cute moonlit dinner at a nearby creek (she’s witchy so of course lol). And by dinner I mean tea time food cause this girl cannot cook for shit. She puts together a bunch of finger foods and drinks with the hopes you’ll spend a few hours just enjoying the atomosphere. 

I think we can guess what Eddie does to find you the perfect gift lol From scouring your Amazon history/wish lists to just stalking you whenever you go out, Eddie is basically in a competition with himself to get you the best gift ever. He’s so indecisive though so gift giving for him looks like receiving multiple amazon packages a day for a week.  

You’d think with all the weed Dakota’s brain would be too mush to think of giving a gift, but no. This man starts planning your gift a year in advance EVERY year. After dragging you around with him everywhere, he’d settle on buying you an experience. Something out of town that you all could go to as a family, like one of those immersive movies where you eat what they show on screen. Or a “potion” making class where you mix drinks together and use wands.  

Literally the only one who just asks you what you want lol I mean, Mateo intends to give you more than what you tell him but he’s too worried he’ll get you something you won’t like. So along with what you ask for, he’ll most likely get you something like a necklace with both of your initials engraved in it. A black diamond in the shape of a heart.

[wra1thguards]

Hello Mia, just wanna tell you I love Galis very much <3 and I love dad Galis, too. Is that mean Fehn is a demigod? Or she is adopted? Do they hang out a lot on Nirn? Or on the Isles?

hi!!! i’m so happy that you like galis, and thank you so much for the question! i love talking about my characters lol. i’m going to try to explain this to the best of my ability, but my personal canon and timeline is VERY messy so you might have to bear with me a bit. 😅

this also turned into a bit of a long explanation, so i put it under a cut. i apologize in advance haha

fehn appeared to and was adopted by galis and martin sometime near the end of the third era. since this is the case, galis and fehn’s canon is contingent upon some sort of martin lives au (but not for long lmao) OR an au where the oblivion crisis lasted for at least a couple decades, so fehn has time to grow up. i’m imagining that fehn was no older than a toddler when martin approached galis with her like “hey akatosh is giving us this baby” and galis was like “um………?”

anyway fehn grows up, they do a great job being dads all things considered. (though not without its flaws, fehn and galis generally had an excellent relationship. he taught her how to fight and how to survive out in the world) and when fehn’s around 25, martin mantles akatosh and (as is his fate) dies.

galis is devastated by this loss and cannot cope with it, and he begins spiraling hard. while losing martin is the catalyst to his descent into madness, the fear of losing fehn (who they believe to be dragonborn) to a similar fate is another thing that keeps him spiraling downwards.

naturally, he more or less falls into the influence of sheogorath. both out of fear of losing fehn, and, like, his rampant desire for control over the narrative, he freezes fehn in time by putting her in this magic amber in a tomb in morrowind somewhere. this keeps fehn in state where she doesn’t age and just sleeps until galis or someone breaks her free of it.

galis kills the elder council and takes other strides to violently destabilize the empire (what’s the point of any of this without martin, after all), then shivering isles events take place. galis mantles sheogorath and comes up with a plan to drag akatosh back to nirn and kill him and/or rip martin free of him. whatever that means. he believes that fehn is the key to this, and that he can use her to get akatosh to manifest back on nirn, but he needs to wait for the opportune time for it.

4e201 comes around and the dragon crisis begins. sheo!galis finds out about the ldb prophecy and finds this to be perfect time to unleash fehn upon the world to be the one to fulfill that prophecy. there’s that idea of soul-stacking in tes, right? if fehn absorbs enough dragon souls, she grows closer to akatosh, she can find a way to summon him, galis kills him and gets what he wants. after he kills akatosh, he wants to put fehn and martin in a fake universe that he has absolute control of where nothing bad ever happens ever but that’s neither here nor there.

the whole fehn being trapped in magic amber for 200 years thing feels kind of silly when i state it, but i also think it’s interesting how this lets her mirror serana and also, in a way, miraak. i also don’t think she’s _actually_ the one the prophecy spoke of (it was miraak’s “fate” to kill alduin in my canon but he fumbled so fucking badly), but by galis’s design and her being dragonborn, she was able to complete it.

i’m so sorry this got so long. thank you so much for being interested (and reading this!) and i hope you have a wonderful day!

[catofadifferentcolor]

Terrible Fic Idea #56: Game of Thrones, but with 50% more incest

As I've said before, I tend to go in for the Jon Snow is Rhaegar's son theory because it makes Ned Stark into an absolutely fascinating character - and seems to fit the evidence we have. That being said, unless there was extensive written documentation in The Tower of Joy, Ned has no proof that his sister's son is a Targaryen or that she ever had sexual relationship with a Targaryen. One can make reasonable assumptions based on location and circumstance, but that's all they are. Assumptions.

Or: What if the reason Jon Snow looks all Stark is because that's what he is: 100% Stark?

Aka: The Bastard of Winterfell Fic

Bear with me:

One of the very few things we know about Brandon Stark is that he was absolutely not shy about taking what he wanted, which included women. This could mean he was a great seducer of highborn ladies, but it could easily mean he was a HotD Aegon II-style rapist whose victims had no recourse because of Brandon's position as Heir of Winterfell.

If we go for the latter reading, it's not that far of a stretch to assume that one of Brandon's victims might have been his own sister, Lyanna. For all she was a Lord Paramount's daughter, ASOIAF has shown repeatedly position means nothing with regards to gendered violence - and, with Viserra Targaryen, suggests that Lyanna might even be named the instigator if she came forward.

Add to that very little about Lyanna's abduction narrative makes any sense. Even assuming she was complicit in her kidnapping, it doesn't make any sense for a man so apparently taken by a woman he'd shun his wife for her that he'd wait a year to abduct her. And considering it would be near impossible to carry out a correspondence without at least the Maesters on either end knowing about it... Rhaegar was either incredibly lucky, or they planned extensively well in advance, or something else was going on. Add to that Lyanna's main complaint about Robert was that he'd never be faithful to her after which she's said to run off with a married man and things just fail to add up.

Just imagine it:

Brandon Stark is born just a little too wild. The handsome, charming heir to the North, there is very little he wants that he cannot get one way or another - and if he has to resort to force to get some of it, well, who is his father going to believe?

Lyanna Stark is born with that same wildness, to her detriment. After all, what is acceptable in Westeros for men is inexcusable for women - though growing up in a household with very few high-ranking women, this may not have been immediately evident. The North doesn't treat their women as delicate Southron flowers, but there are still limits to what is considered acceptable. She is loved, but she not more loved than Brandon, and when the abuse starts there is no one Lyanna can turn to for help.

Ned, after all, is in the Eyrie by this point, and Benjen is too young.

Brandon has been abusing Lyanna sexually for 1-2 years by the time the Tourney at Harrenhal rolls around. Her betrothal to Robert should be an escape, except he appears to be another man who will use her just like her brother, and few would even consider his actions wrong because that's how highborn men are expected to treat their wives.

The only positive from this experience from this experience is getting to see Ned again, but given that he's the one pushing for her betrothal, Lyanna doesn't trust him enough to tell him the truth.

She also gets to meet Rhaegar, who to her eyes appears as everything a prince and husband should be. Lyanna doesn't fall in love with Rhaegar, but does imagine him to be her savior - if only she had the opportunity to tell him about Brandon.

Which Lyanna does, when they go to Riverrun for his wedding to Catelyn Tully. She runs into Rhaegar during one of the many rides she takes trying to convince herself that it's possible to escape Brandon and the long reach of her father.

After she spills all, Rhaegar takes Lyanna to the Tower of Joy to keep her safe while he takes action against her abuse... only for Westeros to assume the worst of him and war to break out. (After all, he can do nothing for his own mother, but for someone experiencing the exact same horror...?)

Canon proceeds apace.

Lyanna dies in childbirth, having realized too late she was pregnant with her abuser's child to be rid of it. Perhaps she even orchestrated her death, seeing Ned's banners and wrongly assuming that he was there to take her back to Brandon, never realizing a war had raged because of her disappearance.

Ned believes her son to be Rhaegar's and claims the child to avoid Robert putting him to death as dragonspawn. Never suspecting the abuse Brandon put Lyanna through, he can think of no other reason his sister might run off with the Crown Prince.

Absolutely nothing changes as far as canon goes. In all honestly, my plot bunny runs out when it comes what to do with this background once we reach the events of the books/show. Maybe certain parties claim he's Rhaegar's son regardless and the truth never comes out? Maybe Bran tells him part of the truth circa season 8 and he's placed as the new Lord Paramount/King of the North as Brandon's son, not Ned's? Maybe Lyanna leaves behind dairies that make their way somehow to Jon after he's grown? Who knows? I certainly don't.

Bonuses include: 1) Lyanna - bravely, tragically - going to her father after Brandon starts touching her sexually and being shot down - slapped even - for daring to make such a disgusting accusation and certainly she just misunderstood what was happening. Lyanna loses all faith in men and justice at that time and, no matter how hard she tries to fight Brandon off, her injuries are just written off as boisterousness and at least half of her wildness is acting out the only way she can; 2) Even as Lyanna's ghost haunt the narrative, she's denied voice - her story is always twisted by the men telling it, so her tragedy isn't even the tragedy that actually happened to her and instead reinforces the patriarchy she railed against; and 3) The truth, if it comes out, never being believed by any significant fraction of society - some say it's a poor Lannister attempt to lessen their own sin, some say it's a Dornish attempt to discredit Lyanna, other's say it's an attempt to deny Jon's "rightful" claim to the Iron Throne - just as Lyanna was never believed in life.

And that's all I have - more of a darker, alternative take on why Lyanna ran off than a true plot bunny; a hopping off point, if you will. As always, feel free to adopt this bun, just link back if you do anything with it.

Other Jon Snow Headcanons: Aelor the Accursed | Aegon the Adopted | Aegon the Undying | Aegon the Unyielding | Aemon the Adventurous | Baelor the Brave | Bastard of Winterfell | Daemon the Destroyer | Daena the Dreamer | Daeron the Desired | Dyanna the Defiant | Jon Whitefyre | King of the Ashes | Lady Arryn | Lady Baratheon | Lady Lannister | Lady Stark | Lord of the Dance | Prince Consort | Prince of Summerhall | Queen Mother | Rhaegar the Righteous | River Queen | Shiera Snowbird

More Terrible Fic Ideas

[hughungrybear]

15 people, 15 questions

I got tagged by @telomeke (the link to their post is here). Thanks for the tag! 😊

1. Are you named after anyone?

I came from a predominantly Catholic country so it is common to name babies after saints. Ironically, despite my saintly name, I was a real Tasmanian devil to my parents, teachers, and peers 😅

2. When was the last time you cried?

The last time that I sincerely cried was when my Dad passed away. I was eleven. After that, every event that made me "cry" barely wet my eyes 😅

3. Do you have kids?

No, and I don't plan to have any. I like kids - especially when I can hand them back to their respective mothers 😅 I don't have anything against motherhood, but I can barely support myself. Under the circumstances, it is not wise to bring another life into this world that I cannot support.

4. What sports do you play/have you played?

Oh boy. I used to do track and field, basketball, and soccer (football) when I was still in elementary (grade) school. However, my conservative home country deems these sports as too "manly" and therefore not appropriate for a growing 'lady'. So, they made me switch to cheer dance😤. Well, let's just say I have never danced again ever since lol.

5. Do you use sarcasm?

Let's just say that sometimes, using sarcasm is the only way to retain my sanity 😅

6. What’s the first thing you notice about people?

The tone and shift of voice when they talk. Not entirely sure why though 😅😅😅

7. What’s your eye color?

Hazel brown with hints of darkest grey.

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

Definitely happy endings. I will not subject myself to torture by watching horror films/series no matter how critically acclaimed it is. That's because I have a very vivid imagination and I really love a peaceful sleep 🥲

9. Any talents?

Does mixing chemicals and formulating new adhesive products count? 😅 I can play the keyboard, and write poems and short stories (although, it's been a long time since I wrote my last one). I also do embroidery during my spare time.

10. Where were you born?

Funny story. I was born on the eve of our town's patron saint's day. Before the feast day, the town's roads are closed in preparation for the upcoming festivities. Unfortunately, my mum's water broke during an intense cleaning session of our house on the eve of the feast. Since the roads were closed, my father and grandma (my mother's mum) were forced to call a midwife and perform a home birth. Curiously, I did not cry as my mum pushed my small baby form out of her womb. Fearing that I was a stillbirth, the midwife had put me near an electric stove to help warm me up. It was only then that poor baby me started to cry (to the relief of everyone around)😅

TLDR: I was born at home but only showed a definitive sign of life in our old family kitchen.

11. What are your hobbies?

Reading books, scrolling through various socmed (Nowadays, though, it's mostly Tumblr and Reddit), and listening to some brand new music.

12. Do you have any pets?

When I was still living in my home country, I used to have dogs. However, moving to Australia, I was forced to leave them behind with our trusted relatives. We still Facetime though, so there's that.

13. How tall are you?

Sadly, I'm five feet flat, I am still hoping for some (miracle) growth spurt even in my thirties lol

14. Favorite subject in school?

I love history. I love reading about the beginning of things. I also had high grades in literature simply because I am an advanced reader (that is, I have already read the books on my teacher's list even before they have released them to the class).

15. Dream job

Somewhere where deadlines are a mere suggestion lol

Onward tagging (I know some of you have already done this, but give this poor hungry bear a break, I'm running out of people to tag: @lost-my-sanity1, @sparklyeyedhimbo, @imlivingformyselfdontmindme, @waitmyturtles, @dimplesandfierceeyes, @plantsarepeopletoo, @actually-yikes, @dribs-and-drabbles, @ablazenqueen, @alan-apologist, @ellasaru12, @queersouthasian, @lamonnaie, @rei-the-head-shaker and anybody else who wants to play😊

[runwayrunway]

Hello, folks. This is your captain speaking.

Today is going to be slightly unusual. I know it's a little difficult to firmly define 'usual' for a blog with two posts, but I had plans and they were not this. I normally like to write posts well in advance, because last-minute post-writing is sometimes a very bad idea. (Especially when you are dyslexic and will absolutely miss typos.)

However, once in a while something happens which forces my hand. Let me put it this way: if you were a meteorologist and you saw a tornado forming, would you go sound the alarm right away or would you wait until an unspecified future date to inform the small town of Frangible Plains, Nebraska that they're imminently going to be torn apart by an EF4?

This is all to say, on the 14th of June, two days ago as of writing, a new airline livery was unveiled. And I can't just not talk about it, can I? Especially when the airline in question has already been requested. But writing this review sent me on a whirlwind of frantic typing that ended up spanning multiple posts.

My mission here is not to jumpscare people, confuse them, or string them along, so I just wanted to clarify upfront: there will be three main-series posts going up today, plus one post that isn't a review but which bears mentioning anyway. I'll be scheduling the main posts an hour apart from each other, beginning at 21:00 universal time, during which time I will be at work, so any questions or comments will be answered somewhat later.

Due to the sheer size of the rabbit hole which has now consumed me, I'll also be doing posts tomorrow and on Sunday. This isn't normal, and you shouldn't expect this, but I cannot leave this topic unfinished and I also can't clog up my blog with one specific airline for a week and a half. Some of you may already have an idea of what airline this is, based on context and timing. Others will know soon enough.

Thank you for your understanding. Let's blue this.

[peachymilkandcream]

More aphrodisiac with levi

Levi x Evelyn -> Burning For You

(A/N: This idea has been rotting in my mind for so long I cannot and now I have the perfect excuse to get it out and free it, just bear with me)

WARNINGS: noncon, dubcon, manipulation, domestic abuse, yandere themes, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, stockholm syndrome, violence, mind breaking, misogyny, etc.

==============================================

Now Petra was getting desperate, nothing she was doing stopped Levi's relentless attraction to Evelyn, at this rate she'd be pregnant in no time and even if they divorced after that he'd have to support the child and it would be over. She had to work fast, her advances had been bold but not bold enough. That was until she had overheard the gossip some of her friends were talking about.

"What do you think about it Petra?" One of them pulled her out of her thoughts.

"Huh? Sorry, I wasn't paying attention, what are we talking about?"

"The Captain, I overheard him talking to the Commander about an aphrodisiac." She giggles.

Another friend sighs. "Evelyn is so lucky, having a man do that to himself to make sure she had plenty of pleasure. And so handsome too... I'm so jealous."

Normally Petra would have burned with jealousy, but something in it intrigued her, maybe she had an idea after all. "Where would he get something like that?" She tried her best to keep her voice even.

"Oh yeah I remember where, why do you want to know?"

"You never know." The blush crept to her face, making the others laughs.

"Petra finally losing her innocence? About time."

Petra ignores the talk and laughing, her mind racing with ideas.

==============================================

The next day Petra clutches the paper bag to her chest, hoping no one would notice it and what she was about to do. It was late, she made sure that most of the staff had left so that no one would hear their passionate love making when she was through with him. He had already told her he planned on staying late to work on some other plans so she knew he'd be there.

She made his tea, looking both ways twice before downing the contents of the glass bottle into the cup. Her heart racing she brings it to him.

"Your tea Levi."

"Thank you Petra, you're dismissed."

She wanted to stay so badly, but she would spend a lot of time together in a short few moments. "Yes sir."

Levi took a sip of his tea, taking a moment to think about how it tasted a little strange, but he figured it was just his tastebuds acting up and continued to drink it. After a few minutes taking his jacket up as he started to feel himself getting warmer.

===============================================

Evelyn had wanted to spend the evening in bed without her husband present. Cuddled up reading a book had sounded like heaven, until he sent a message telling her to come spend the evening with him while he worked late. She had tried to refuse, but loyal as always her maids pushed and shoved her back into a little black dress and heels, refreshing her makeup and making sure she had her hat and gloves on.

She took a moment to calm her nerves before knocking on the door, it was just her husband, nothing to be scared of, right? The thought calmed her slightly, enough to knock on it. Oddly enough, Levi didn't answer, which never happened. Swallowing, she opened the door.

She could have never been prepared for the scene before her eyes. Levi had pulled off his shirt, sweat dripping down his chest while stroking himself. His eyes meet hers and his expression was nothing short of predatory. A fire burned those eyes, one she wasn't sure she wanted to get too near.

"Come here." It was an order, his hand never leaving his aching cock.

Evelyn softly closes the door, taking off her gloves and hat, coming closer and closer. "What happened? Are you okay-?"

As soon as she came within arms reach he grabbed her by the waist and bent her over the desk, banging her chin. When she tried to push herself up, he just pushed her back down even harder.

"Levi what's gotten into you?"

"Shut your damn mouth."

His erection pierced through her core in one movement, she wasn't wet, but the amount of his own cum and fluids eased the way. His groan sounded as if he was in heaven, just pushing in had made him paint her insides white. He had thought at first being able to cum would give him relief, but with the state his office as in, it had only made him want more.

His hand dug into her hair, grabbing it in his fist and pulling her head back to bite at her neck. Each thrust was reinforced with a slap to her rear, she hadn't done anything to warrant this rough behaviour, but he couldn't help himself, he needed to just fuck her hard. He was going to fill her until she couldn't take it anymore.

Her assets bounced, as surprise and initial discomfort gave way to her pleasure as moans spilled out of her. "Levi- Levi-"

Levi didn't care if she didn't mean it that way, but her moaning his name signified to him that she was his. "I love you- I love you-" She knew it, she had to know it, how much he cared for her. He loved her so much his chest hurt. "I'm going to breed you wife, give you the family you deserve."

===============================================

Petra hadn't meant to doze off, it had just happened, it was late after all and she had barely slept the night before. She didn't mean to, and now she rushed to Levi's office, her poor, sweet Levi, he was suffering and she wasn't there to offer up her body to ease his discomfort.

She heard moans as she rounded the corner, and knew now not to open the door when she heard it. However tears stung her eyes, she knew Evelyn had somehow outsmarted her once again. Frustration, sadness, and jealousy burned inside her until she could hardly stand it anymore. She ran home and never looked back.

==============================================

With one more grunt she felt Levi climax and finally soften inside her. She didn't know how many times they both came, she only knew how much of his cum she was leaking out steadily. She was beyond sore, but the one blurring thought besides weariness was satisfaction. Something about being worn out to the point of exhaustion was oddly enjoyable.

They had changed positions many times, but now he was just laying on her since they had switched to the floor out of comfort and access. Up close and without the haze of lust she could see the dark circles under his eyes, sympathetic to the core, she felt bad for her monster of a husband. Her fingers ran through his hair as he collapsed into sleep, and she could swear she saw the faintest of smiles on his lips. With a kiss to his forehead she muttered.

"Sleep well husband."