#i have so many ideas for fics but i can't write them all at once! X'D

[antianakin]

Oh I LOVE the idea of memorial tattoos! That's so sweet (obviously in an incredibly sad way, but still). There was a fic I read once where Cody gave himself tattoos for people he loved who were still ALIVE, with the intention that he'd cut through them and create a scar over the tattoo if the person died as a visual representation of that memorial while also being a reminder of the people who are still with him, and that's stuck with me to this day. I have no idea which fic it was anymore off the top of my head, but it's such an interesting way to utilize tattoos because it lives somewhere in-between using tattoos to just represent people you care about who are either still alive or who have already died. But getting a tattoo for people who ARE alive but who are incredibly likely to die soon due to their circumstances and so he has a plan to sort-of... visually mar the tattoo with a different type of body modification adds so much nuance to it in a way I've never seen anywhere else.

And that's what I find most interesting about it, how the clones choose to utilize this art form to define who they are, not JUST as individuals, but as a CULTURE amongst all of them. And how is this culture different from anyone else's, how is it impacted by the experiences the clones have had and are currently having? How does this impact their approach to art, which could certainly be tattoos, especially in their early days, but might also make its way into things like songs and poetry and storytelling that are oral art forms, or things like cooking maybe that could be impacted by both the approach to their diets by the Kaminoans as well as the amount of traveling they do later and the interactions they might have with other cultures.

I just love looking at what makes the clones UNIQUE and how different aspects of their culture might be different from others specifically as a result of their incredibly unique upbringing. That's why I loved the fic with Cody's memorial tattoo because it's such a unique concept, having to build a tattoo design for people who are still alive but with the knowledge that it will very likely need to BECOME a memorial later. How many other cultures would even need something like that? The clones have such a low life expectancy because they've been built to die and they're also so often separated from each other and they probably have very few ways of keeping around things that remind them of their loved ones. So they come up with tattoos that can be a remembrance for someone still alive but separated that can be turned into a memorial for someone who has died and it doesn't actually take away from the tattoo design. What other culture would have a similar need for that kind of thing?

And of course they can have happier or sillier options, too, like putting a loved one's face on their body in tattoo form, or maybe a lot of text options later like poems or songs or recipes that mean something to them and that they want to make sure can't get lost (we don't know if they have access to PERSONAL padds of any kind where they could write things down that aren't related to work and even if they do, the possibility that it could be lost or broken is pretty high).

I feel like there's WAY more attention paid to armor than tattoos in clone culture within fandom and I think tattoos deserve more attention than they get (and armor less). Because yes, we do obviously see different armor designs and the like, but we also see a LOT of clones wearing pretty much the exact same armor design as a lot of other clones (the Doylist explanation for this is obviously that the animators weren't going to come up with separate armor designs for every single background clone, but I'm taking a Watsonian approach here), whereas any time a clone has a tattoo somewhere, it's never the same thing twice.

Armor designs are fun, they're nice, but armor breaks and gets lost while the tattoos are on their bodies FOREVER. We've also seen a few clones who have armor designs that match their tattoos, and I'm headcanoning that the tattoos came FIRST. So even some of the clones who we DON'T see have matching tattoos to their armor designs probably actually do somewhere. So like Waxer and Boil didn't just put Numa on their helmets, helmets get broken and destroyed, they got her face tattooed on their bodies somewhere, too. Rex has the shriek hawk eyes tattooed somewhere. Cody has the sunburst tattooed. If the design means something to them, it's been tattooed on their bodies, too.

I want more shared tattoos between clones who care about each other, too. Probably not the same as the one they have on their armor, but something else that's special to just the two of them. Fives and Echo could have a little domino tattoo somewhere to represent not just their bond, but their bonds to the rest of the squad they lost. Sometimes it's a memorial for someone they've lost, like maybe Jesse and Kix have a tattoo for Hardcase after Umbara, or Fox has one for Thorn after Scipio.

Tattoos are also a lot easier to hide and keep private from certain people if necessary, while armor designs are always able to be seen no matter what. So tattoos can be a LOT more personal than an armor design, too. They can represent terrible traumas or the deepest dream, something they don't dare even discuss with anyone else but don't want to forget. Clones with tattoos of coordinates to a planet they might one day want to call home, clones with tattoos of quotes that inspire them or maybe the last words spoken to them by a loved one or a promise made to someone else that they hope they can keep. Many clones have plant tattoos of some kind, the first flower or tree they ever saw, to remind them of the beauty that exists in the galaxy and what they're fighting to protect. Names are incredibly common tattoos once they've chosen it, either written out in letters or represented in an image somehow.

Over time, maybe in a happy fix-it AU where they have the ability to really let this develop, certain designs and patterns start meaning certain things to the clones and so they become shared across MANY clones as almost a shared unspoken language. A specific design might mean loss, or specific achievements in life.

Just... more about the tattoos in clone culture, they're SO underexplored.

[lavender-butterfly-cookie]

Can you do self-aware fic(no yandere please!) about how would they react to anything that you want to write such as background music(watch them get fired up from other game OST lol),human history, CRK lore, human/baker giving opinions to their friends about specific cookies you like/interested?

Oh boy, self-aware you say? I'll give it a shot. I have no idea what size to make them so I'm making them cookie sized

Self-Aware Cookie Run Kingdom

All the cookies were astonished to meet you. I mean, you were a baker, equivalent to the witches! You were capable of making cookies too! Of course, they didn't know that at first since you were oh so suddenly teleported here and were just as big as them, but when they realized you truly weren't a cookie they did some research.

Then came the questions, Oh so many questions. "If you're not a witch and you're not a cookie, then what are you, oh baker?" you told them to just call you Y/N and that they could just treat you as a normal person, no need to be so formal. Then yo explained that you were a human.

"What on earthbread is a human?" They'd ask

"Do you come from the heavens?"

"If you're the baker, do you know my name?" Asked Custard cookie. You laughed a bit and confirmed you did know his name, as well as everyone. So many cookies wanted to know if you knew their names until they finally gave in once you had proven you did again and again.

Then you started answering the other questions. What humans were, where you came from, what you like, human history (kinda depending what country you're from) and many other stuff. You introduced them to things they didn't know exist. Whilst showing them some things you had on your phone Gingerbrave pointed out a specific game that caught his eye and when you looked at it you immediately knew why.

"What's cookie run kingdom?" He asked, which got a few other cookies to come and look. You... how do you even explain this to them? Did they really want to know they were all just characters in a game?

...

probably not...

You decided to word it differently, saying that it was what you used at a portal to interact with them. You went into the cookie run kingdom lore and everything, but made sure to not give any spoilers of what's to come in the future. If any of them didn't like what they heard would happen in the future, they'd try to stop it, and you can't allow that. Canon events must not and can not be changed after all

[dragon-tamer-1]

Ok seriously, I promise to get to the requests I have soon, just gotta do a few things first but I promise to start drawing/writing them as soon as I get done with these.

[archaeren]

How I learned to write smarter, not harder

(aka, how to write when you're hella ADHD lol)

A reader commented on my current long fic asking how I write so well. I replied with an essay of my honestly pretty non-standard writing advice (that they probably didn't actually want lol) Now I'm gonna share it with you guys and hopefully there's a few of you out there who will benefit from my past mistakes and find some useful advice in here. XD Since I started doing this stuff, which are all pretty easy changes to absorb into your process if you want to try them, I now almost never get writer's block.

The text of the original reply is indented, and I've added some additional commentary to expand upon and clarify some of the concepts.

As for writing well, I usually attribute it to the fact that I spent roughly four years in my late teens/early 20s writing text roleplay with a friend for hours every single day. Aside from the constant practice that provided, having a live audience immediately reacting to everything I wrote made me think a lot about how to make as many sentences as possible have maximum impact so that I could get that kind of fun reaction. (Which is another reason why comments like yours are so valuable to fanfic writers! <3) The other factors that have improved my writing are thus: 1. Writing nonlinearly. I used to write a whole story in order, from the first sentence onward. If there was a part I was excited to write, I slogged through everything to get there, thinking that it would be my reward once I finished everything that led up to that. It never worked. XD It was miserable. By the time I got to the part I wanted to write, I had beaten the scene to death in my head imagining all the ways I could write it, and it a) no longer interested me and b) could not live up to my expectations because I couldn't remember all my ideas I'd had for writing it. The scene came out mediocre and so did everything leading up to it. Since then, I learned through working on VN writing (I co-own a game studio and we have some visual novels that I write for) that I don't have to write linearly. If I'm inspired to write a scene, I just write it immediately. It usually comes out pretty good even in a first draft! But then I also have it for if I get more ideas for that scene later, and I can just edit them in. The scenes come out MUCH stronger because of this. And you know what else I discovered? Those scenes I slogged through before weren't scenes I had no inspiration for, I just didn't have any inspiration for them in that moment! I can't tell you how many times there was a scene I had no interest in writing, and then a week later I'd get struck by the perfect inspiration for it! Those are scenes I would have done a very mediocre job on, and now they can be some of the most powerful scenes because I gave them time to marinate. Inspiration isn't always linear, so writing doesn't have to be either!

Some people are the type that joyfully write linearly. I have a friend like this--she picks up the characters and just continues playing out the next scene. Her story progresses through the entire day-by-day lives of the characters; it never timeskips more than a few hours. She started writing and posting just eight months ago, she's about an eighth of the way through her planned fic timeline, and the content she has so far posted to AO3 for it is already 450,000 words long. But most of us are normal humans. We're not, for the most part, wired to create linearly. We consume linearly, we experience linearly, so we assume we must also create linearly. But actually, a lot of us really suffer from trying to force ourselves to create this way, and we might not even realize it. If you're the kind of person who thinks you need to carrot-on-a-stick yourself into writing by saving the fun part for when you finally write everything that happens before it: Stop. You're probably not a linear writer. You're making yourself suffer for no reason and your writing is probably suffering for it. At least give nonlinear writing a try before you assume you can't write if you're not baiting or forcing yourself into it!! Remember: Writing is fun. You do this because it's fun, because it's your hobby. If you're miserable 80% of the time you're doing it, you're probably doing it wrong!

2. Rereading my own work. I used to hate reading my own work. I wouldn't even edit it usually. I would write it and slap it online and try not to look at it again. XD Writing nonlinearly forced me to start rereading because I needed to make sure scenes connected together naturally and it also made it easier to get into the headspace of the story to keep writing and fill in the blanks and get new inspiration. Doing this built the editing process into my writing process--I would read a scene to get back in the headspace, dislike what I had written, and just clean it up on the fly. I still never ever sit down to 'edit' my work. I just reread it to prep for writing and it ends up editing itself. Many many scenes in this fic I have read probably a dozen times or more! (And now, I can actually reread my own work for enjoyment!) Another thing I found from doing this that it became easy to see patterns and themes in my work and strengthen them. Foreshadowing became easy. Setting up for jokes or plot points became easy. I didn't have to plan out my story in advance or write an outline, because the scenes themselves because a sort of living outline on their own. (Yes, despite all the foreshadowing and recurring thematic elements and secret hidden meanings sprinkled throughout this story, it actually never had an outline or a plan for any of that. It's all a natural byproduct of writing nonlinearly and rereading.)

Unpopular writing opinion time: You don't need to make a detailed outline.

Some people thrive on having an outline and planning out every detail before they sit down to write. But I know for a lot of us, we don't know how to write an outline or how to use it once we've written it. The idea of making one is daunting, and the advice that it's the only way to write or beat writer's block is demoralizing. So let me explain how I approach "outlining" which isn't really outlining at all.

I write in a Notion table, where every scene is a separate table entry and the scene is written in the page inside that entry. I do this because it makes writing nonlinearly VASTLY more intuitive and straightforward than writing in a single document. (If you're familiar with Notion, this probably makes perfect sense to you. If you're not, imagine something a little like a more contained Google Sheets, but every row has a title cell that opens into a unique Google Doc when you click on it. And it's not as slow and clunky as the Google suite lol) (Edit from the future: I answered an ask with more explanation on how I use Notion for non-linear writing here.) When I sit down to begin a new fic idea, I make a quick entry in the table for every scene I already know I'll want or need, with the entries titled with a couple words or a sentence that describes what will be in that scene so I'll remember it later. Basically, it's the most absolute bare-bones skeleton of what I vaguely know will probably happen in the story.

Then I start writing, wherever I want in the list. As I write, ideas for new scenes and new connections and themes will emerge over time, and I'll just slot them in between the original entries wherever they naturally fit, rearranging as necessary, so that I won't forget about them later when I'm ready to write them. As an example, my current long fic started with a list of roughly 35 scenes that I knew I wanted or needed, for a fic that will probably be around 100k words (which I didn't know at the time haha). As of this writing, it has expanded to 129 scenes. And since I write them directly in the page entries for the table, the fic is actually its own outline, without any additional effort on my part. As I said in the comment reply--a living outline!

This also made it easier to let go of the notion that I had to write something exactly right the first time. (People always say you should do this, but how many of us do? It's harder than it sounds! I didn't want to commit to editing later! I didn't want to reread my work! XD) I know I'm going to edit it naturally anyway, so I can feel okay giving myself permission to just write it approximately right and I can fix it later. And what I found from that was that sometimes what I believed was kind of meh when I wrote it was actually totally fine when I read it later! Sometimes the internal critic is actually wrong. 3. Marinating in the headspace of the story. For the first two months I worked on [fic], I did not consume any media other than [fandom the fic is in]. I didn't watch, read, or play anything else. Not even mobile games. (And there wasn't really much fan content for [fandom] to consume either. Still isn't, really. XD) This basically forced me to treat writing my story as my only source of entertainment, and kept me from getting distracted or inspired to write other ideas and abandon this one.

As an aside, I don't think this is a necessary step for writing, but if you really want to be productive in a short burst, I do highly recommend going on a media consumption hiatus. Not forever, obviously! Consuming media is a valuable tool for new inspiration, and reading other's work (both good and bad, as long as you think critically to identify the differences!) is an invaluable resource for improving your writing.

When I write, I usually lay down, close my eyes, and play the scene I'm interested in writing in my head. I even take a ten-minute nap now and then during this process. (I find being in a state of partial drowsiness, but not outright sleepiness, makes writing easier and better. Sleep helps the brain process and make connections!) Then I roll over to the laptop next to me and type up whatever I felt like worked for the scene. This may mean I write half a sentence at a time between intervals of closed-eye-time XD

People always say if you're stuck, you need to outline.

What they actually mean by that (whether they realize it or not) is that if you're stuck, you need to brainstorm. You need to marinate. You don't need to plan what you're doing, you just need to give yourself time to think about it!

What's another framing for brainstorming for your fic? Fantasizing about it! Planning is work, but fantasizing isn't.

You're already fantasizing about it, right? That's why you're writing it. Just direct that effort toward the scenes you're trying to write next! Close your eyes, lay back, and fantasize what the characters do and how they react.

And then quickly note down your inspirations so you don't forget, haha.

And if a scene is so boring to you that even fantasizing about it sucks--it's probably a bad scene.

If it's boring to write, it's going to be boring to read. Ask yourself why you wanted that scene. Is it even necessary? Can you cut it? Can you replace it with a different scene that serves the same purpose but approaches the problem from a different angle? If you can't remove the troublesome scene, what can you change about it that would make it interesting or exciting for you to write?

And I can't write sitting up to save my damn life. It's like my brain just stops working if I have to sit in a chair and stare at a computer screen. I need to be able to lie down, even if I don't use it! Talking walks and swinging in a hammock are also fantastic places to get scene ideas worked out, because the rhythmic motion also helps our brain process. It's just a little harder to work on a laptop in those scenarios. XD

In conclusion: Writing nonlinearly is an amazing tool for kicking writer's block to the curb. There's almost always some scene you'll want to write. If there isn't, you need to re-read or marinate.

Or you need to use the bathroom, eat something, or sleep. XD Seriously, if you're that stuck, assess your current physical condition. You might just be unable to focus because you're uncomfortable and you haven't realized it yet.

Anyway! I hope that was helpful, or at least interesting! XD Sorry again for the text wall. (I think this is the longest comment reply I've ever written!)

And same to you guys on tumblr--I hope this was helpful or at least interesting. XD Reblogs appreciated if so! (Maybe it'll help someone else!)

[runabout-river]

Guys! I just had the most brilliant save-the-life-of-a-fanfic-author idea while despairing over information I wrote in my fic once and can't find anymore because the fic is 240k long with 60 chapters all with their own Word document.

I just went on Ao3, pushed the entire work button and downloaded a PDF version of my fic! Now I have a documment with 460 pages that I can search through easily without despairing over untitled word documents. 😭 You can do that 10 second task instead of painstakingly going through your documents and combining them together, too.

I'm sure not everyone writes that way to need that advice and many people probably had the same idea already but I never saw it on author spaces here on tumblr so I'm gonna tag @ao3commentoftheday for this.

Also, download one or a few versions of your fics anyway.

[sonicenvy]

there is a new scourge on AO3 that I discovered recently...

that scourge is "Placeholder fics". This is thing, where someone posts a "fic" on AO3 with a summary and tags (and sometimes even a complete tag), but when you click on the "fic" the content of the "fic" is something like:

"coming soon" or "in progress" or "an idea I'll write someday"

This is a scourge on AO3 tags that directly violates TOS Section IV, as it is spam (sect B) and inappropriate content (sect H) (not, strictly speaking a fanwork).

If you see these "placeholder fics" on AO3 REPORT THEM. It is easy to do.

Link the fic in report and in the description, you can write something like this:

The linked "fic" is a so-called "placeholder fic" where the author posts a work to a tag and the only content is the words "In progress". The "fic" appears in tags, yet contains no content, so I would consider it to be spam. Thank you!

(This, btw is the actual thing that I wrote to report one of these a few weeks ago)

If you want to get jazzy you can even mention that you believe the "fic" violates TOS IV.H (which is what the AO3 mod told me in the email response to my report) or TOS IV.B.

You can report anonymously if you want afaik. Once you submit a report the AO3 moderators will get back to you at some point to update you on that report and action taken.

This is a simple way that YOU can make AO3 better today. If you see a "fic" that violates TOS in any way, REPORT IT. There are literally millions of fics on AO3 and the moderators can't possibly go through all of them without YOUR help.

I suspect that the people who are posting these "placeholder fics" are probably very young people who are very new to fandom and fanfiction and do not know better. If you are reading this post, and you are one of these people, know that I don't hate you, I just want you to know that what you are doing is a violation of the AO3 TOS and that it fills AO3 tags with spam, preventing readers from finding actual fic to read. There can be (and certainly are) MANY fics on AO3 with the SAME names, if that's what is motivating this.

AO3 isn't a social media site, it's an ARCHIVE for fanfiction. If you want to communicate with your following that you are planning on writing a new fic, use your tumblr, your reddit, your dreamwidth, your substack, your pillowfort, your livejournal, your bird site or whatever the fuck you have to do this. Link your socials in your bio on AO3 if you must. Mention it in the author's notes on your latest work. IDK, just don't post empty "fics" on the ARCHIVE.

[yanmuffins]

waiter! waiter! more phineas and ferb reader pls!

I wonder how the batfam would react once they catch reader inventions on a random tuesday, like, "hm, what a nice day to look out on the window and HOLY SHIT WHY IS THERE A GIANT ROBOT SPITING FIRE WHILE RIDING A ROLLERCOASTER IN MY BACKYARD???"

the events that would follow this incident would be funny and exasperating, me thinks

also, wouldn't it be funnier if Perry the Platypus was part of the JL? and like, no one knows his identity but Superman, and neither of them are willing to talk about it-

I know it would be very unlikely, since everyone there would have enough neurons to recognize a platypus with and without a hat, but for the sake of shit and giggles, just think of how funny that would be

welp, I needed to get that outta ma chest, I hope I at least made you laugh a little, because seriously this is one of the best ideas I've seen in this tag and I can't stop thinking and giggling about it

Stay well!

context.

first: i was not expecting this concept to be so popular!! the responses i've gotten from everyone are so amazing!!  ( ⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝) thank you for the ask, anon!! it always makes my day.

i am formally announcing that i will be turning phineas and ferb reader into a fic now. it's too good a concept to pass up. something more light-hearted to work between the other fics i'm writing.

batfamily finding out about reader's whacky inventions would be an event. it so wholeheartedly shatters the image they had of reader to the point they just have to sit with what the hell just happened for a while before they even consider what to do about you next. still so many things that don't make sense. their newest case is how the fuck did we go this long without finding out (Y/N) has been building mechas in our backyard and why are those things always gone when it's convenient.

then the realizations just start dropping on them like an anvil on a looney tunes character. and they kinda feel like shit, cause how did they not notice? really puts into perspective how they've neglected you all this time. so many stunts you pulled right under their nose, on their backyard, their garage, throughout gotham and metropolis. ok, were out there being creative and amazing and you sure know how to spend the wayne family money, they'll give you that, but it was so irresponsible of you! who knows what could've gone wrong. you're not like them! you're a civilian with no training, the only regular teenager in the family, you're the last person who should be exposing themselves doing all that.

bruce goes off on you, screaming about how could you be so reckless, you did all of this behind his back– what? what do you mean he gave his permission? and he is floored, devastated, blood pressure up, when you remind him of every instance you dropped by his office with a document for him to sign or to ask for permission, with proof as you pull out every paper he put his signature without a second look.

and that, ladies and gentlemen, is when reader's dynamic with the batfam does a complete 180 and their little yandere antennae start going off. no more whacky cartoonish shenanigans. at least not without proper supervision. they know you're not a fan of this new arrangement, but you gotta understand they let you go unchecked for way too long! they'll drown you in family activities so you don't even have to worry about it. who wants to build a teleportation machine, anyway? just join them for family movie night.

as for perry, that is going to take them a while longer to figure out. bruce just can't stand another insane discovery, so when batman sees an intelligent platypus wearing a fedora and walking on two feet on justice league headquarters (if we're going by the idea that he's a part of JL), he's just going to think "my kid has a pet platypus. huh."

oh, consider:

dick: "damian, you knew all this time?! our sibling could've gotten into serious trouble! why didn't you tell us about this?"

damian: stares into the camera like he's in the office.

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Yandere Therapist Drabble

Male Yandere Therapist x Gender Neutral Patient CW: Dubcon, abuse of authority, underwear sniffing, stalking, gaslighting, manipulation, isolation, general yandere behavior (Just a list of ideas I had for a yandere therapist, but nothing I wanted to write a full fic about)

-Yandere therapist that quickly falls head over heels in love with you.

-Knows it's wrong and totally unethical, but can't fight it anymore.

-You're so broken but still so trusting and desperate for love. It's too cute.

-Waves the fee because he doesn't want you to go with a cheaper therapist but says he "just wants to help you" and "doesn't care about money."

-Slowly isolates you, cutting you off from friends and family under the guise of professional advice. 

"That's toxic behavior you need to get away from that person." 

"You're talking to them too much, be a little more independent."

"Your boyfriend seems clingy and codependent, I really think breaking it off is what's best for both of you."

-Once you have fewer people around he begins stalking you.

-If you spot him in too many stores or other places that you are at and get suspicious he gaslights you.

-Breaks in when he knows you'll be away to get some trinkets to remember you when you're not in sessions.

-Keeps a pair of your underwear to sniff while he jerks off between appointments.

-Slowly conditions you to believe he is the only person you can trust and confide in.

-Starts using hypnosis so he knows best how to manipulate you.

-Uses hypnosis to begin to plant attraction and submission to him into your subconscious.

-Also gets you acclimated to his touch while you're hypnotized by groping, fondling, and kissing you.

-Very hard for him not to go all the way, he is extremely tempted to do so, but wants you to be fully aware when he takes you, wants it to be romantic.

-You find yourself slowly falling for him, thinking about him more and more until it is almost overwhelming. But you remind yourself how inappropriate it is.

-He takes things slow and is very patient. Never doing anything to risk the progress he has made.

-When it gets to the point that you can't contain your feelings anymore that's when he knows he can progress further.

-Once he gets you to that point he is never letting go and the best part for him is that you think being romantically involved was all your idea.

[thehauntedetheral]

HELLO!! I really love your stories and i wanna request something, like a yandere gamer bf or husband that streams for a living, and whenever he is off camera he always wants your attention and love even though he gets attention from the streams he makes.

And when he gets invited to an event, he will be sad since you are not yet known to the internet world, he keeps you a secret since he only deserves you, but when he was streaming, you accidentally And almost let yourself know but a fan noticed it and asked about it

And that's it! Just a quick question, do you take any anons? And i really love your works and i was hoping for a part 2 for the dom Kidnapper yandere, but keep your time! Once again i really, reallyyyy love your works! Bye bye!

Thank you so much for your love. And yes I take anons. I hope you enjoy this fic.

YAN GAMER BOYFRIEND

Requests are open !

• Yan is a gamer famous for his skills and techniques.

• His streams have millions of view. Other gamers admire him for his skills. He is always bathed in attention and praises from his followers which are a lot that when you saw the number your mouth just fell open.

• This man has the attention of more than million people on his streaming but he wants your attention on him. His so precious y/n.

• As soon as the camera gets off he is a cuddling mess in your arms looking at you with heart eyes.

• He is invited to numerous gaming tournament but whenever he is there he misses you so dearly, wishing you were here. But you can't.

• Because you are his secret. No one knows about you. No one even knows that yan is in relationship.

• When asked by his followers that if he has someone in his life he would say "I am fully focused on my gaming career right now"

• He doesn't tell about you to others because he thinks you are too precious to get to know by anyone but him.

• Is a lot possesive about you.

• No one but he deserves you. You are too good for others to even look at you.

• He is just very much in love with you.

• He wants you all to himself. Just thinking about you with some else makes his blood boil.

• He thinks you are his lucky charm. Hence always carrying something of yours to his every tournament.

• You are everything. His lucky charm, his gf/bf, his future spouse, just everything.

• You are a gamer too but you are just a beginner recently started and still exploring everything.

• Yan would teach you so many skills, techniques, ideas about the game.

• When he is not streaming he would have you lying on his chest while playing and giving you little pecks of kisses in between.

• Plus he looks so fucking hot with his glasses, headset on, agressively punching the buttons by his fingers and intently focused on screen.

• One day accidentally you came in the camera filming region while he was streaming online making everyone question "Who you they?"

"Is it your gf/bf?"

"They are good looking"

• Well that's it as soon as yan saw some people saying you are good looking he has to claim you to make this people shut up. (This man is just too jealous)

" Yes that good looking person is my gf/bf and soon to be my wife/husband. So stop looking at them".

• Hearing yan say your going to get married soon made you gasp and blush both.

• Well this accidental reveal sure was good and beneficial you thought.

• After few days he officially proposed you with beautiful decorations.

• The best thing is that you are officially his now and yan don't have to miss you in his tournaments now as you would be there supporting him with a ring telling everybody that you are already taken.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN !

For more yandere reading :

[lidiasloca]

azriel and his hands

azriel x reader

fluff

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄☆

“No, no. Get down, y/n,” Azriel says, kneeling on your other side, and softly pulling your shoulders down, making you lay again since you’ve had very little sleep. 

But you don’t want to lay, so you take his hands, trying to put them away. But then he quickly jolts with your touch and hides them from where you can see. You know he’s misunderstood you. You know there is something in between him and his scarred hands that he doesn’t tell to anyone. 

Furthermore, you know very little about what happened to them, and it is still too early to ask him something like that. But what you do know is that he is insecure about them. Never had you touched them like this, direct touching.

“Azriel, no - I was just trying to sit up,” you try explaining, because you don’t want him to feel uncomfortable. 

But there is no answer, he is silent, like in a trance. He’s turned so pale, almost lifeless, you are fast to worry. “Azriel.” You start shaking him, trying to get him out of where his mind has him trapped.

“Sorry,” he finally mumbles, but he is incapable of looking into your eyes. 

But you want him to do so, you need to read him through his eyes, because you know he is no man for words.

“Azriel.” You take his face and pull it up gently with your hands. “Azriel,” you say again, but now it’s a weak whisper as you take in his teary eyes. 

“I - I don’t know… I’m sorry,” he tries.

“You don’t know what?” you ask softly, coking your head to the side with compassion. “Azriel, it’s okay,” you add reassuringly, caressing his cheek.

“I don’t know what happened. I just - many memories just came and hit me, in a way. I don’t know how to explain.”

“You don’t have to, Az. Not now. Maybe when you are calmer, alright?”

His eyes find yours again, and he nods.

“I know you probably have heard,” he starts, his voice weak. “Something about my… hands. And I’m sorry I haven’t told you anything. It is not - I don’t want you to think I don’t trust you or-”

“I know,” you smile sweetly. “I know, Azriel, and you don’t have to worry about that at all.”

He looks down momentarily in response, sighting. You are about to speak in worry, but to your relief, he moves to look up, now looking calmer.

“It’s just - I’ve always felt like I'm on my own on this, like it is my grudge to carry.”

“It is,” you say plainly, but quickly add, “only you have the strength to carry it. But that doesn’t mean you can't choose a good company to walk next to you as you do so.”

He smiles at your words, and it's genuine. 

“And you know what,” you continue. “My mother always told me there is a reason for everything. And the reason someone carries such grudges, it's no nonsense. You only carry such weight on a highway because you are meant to throw it once you are at the peak.” He is silent, so you grow red and explain yourself quickly, “its - it's just a stupid metaphor.”

“It - it is hopeful, and that's exactly what I need. I love it.” And there it is again his tender smile. It makes you blush even more, that smile and the way he watches you, as if you had all the answers to all his questions. 

“I’m glad it helped,” you blurt out as your heart races when he rises his hand to trace his fingers through your cheek to a misplaced strand of hair.

“And I’m glad you are here.”

-Charcters by Sarah J Maas

HEY! IF YOU LIKED THIS, YOU CAN CHECK OUT MY AZRIEL MASTERLIST HERE <3

and you can also request any fic idea you have through my inbox so i can write it down :)) i much appreciate requests for azriel and other acotar characters

[for-ests]

Blood Bound: Sukuna x Reader

Pairing: Heian era Sukuna x witch concubine reader Warnings: hella plot w/ eventual smut Word count: 6,800+ Summary: Gifted to the King of Curses by your coven to produce the strongest heir, Sukuna gets more than he bargained for when he realizes you come with conditions. But once he finally gets a taste, he can't get enough. I honestly don't know what compelled me to write this. But if others enjoy I was thinking about making an actual fic!! this isn't fully flushed out yet but I hope it makes sense. This will eventually connect to my Gojo fanfic too!

Sukuna had all the concubines he could ask for, but there was one who was a big headache. You. Disrespectful and conniving, you were the only one who stood up to him. And for some reason, he allowed it. But that was because you were different from the rest. You weren't like the other pathetic waifs he was expected to entertain; you were special—a witch, a curse user from one of the most powerful covens in his territory. And you loved to remind him of it, stalking around him and nosing your way into his business but never giving in to his desires. He could have disposed of you long ago, but that would've wasted your talents. And, of course, your beauty. 

When you first arrived at the palace, you didn't want to get closer to Sukuna, you didn't even want to talk to him. Especially when you realized he was unaware of the conditions he bound himself to. But with each day that passed, you found yourself seeking him out more, with whatever attention you could get—which was usually his lingering eyes as you paraded around with the other women. Like cats and dogs, you argued with Sukuna just so he would respond to your defiance. You didn't submit to just anyone because they asked. Even though Sukuna was the King of Curses, you were still a powerful witch—and you wouldn't be demoted to just an ordinary concubine. 

You weren't just something pretty to look at. Your purpose was to continue your bloodline, to pass that magic down as your ancestors did, with another man of equal or more power. The first night where you revealed the truth to him was a night you didn't want to repeat. 

Sitting under a cherry blossom tree, Sukuna let out a growl. You had forced him to attend another garden picnic with all the concubines. 

You often did things like this intentionally, smirking at him whenever he would complain and spreading the rumors to everyone before he agreed. Even Uraume was in on it, always preparing the best foods for him at your request to soften the blow. 

Why do you have so many concubines if you don't want to spend time with them? You would mock, your underlying intentions amiss in his brain. All you did was play mind games. If you wish for an heir, shouldn't they be happy, too? A happy and healthy concubine will bear the strongest children. 

Whether you were referring to yourself or not, Sukuna was open to the idea. You were right, after all. And that's why he put up with it, partially to spend time with you, too. You always ensured you were busy whenever he thought about calling you to his room. And the few times you had, you only played Go with him and won. 

What an insufferable woman. He thought, watching you fan yourself from across the garden, twirling a lock of your hair around your finger, only glancing at him when he looked away. 

"More wine Master?" One of the concubines approached Sukuna.

"Master, would you like to try what we cooked?" Another concubine animatedly served him a plate. 

But you would bask in the sun on one of the finest cushions conquest could provide, away from the rest of the group, only participating when he requested you. 

His eyes narrowed on you once you stood to get a cup of wine. "Let Y/N serve me, this was her idea so she must be the one to deal with me," he told the others, shooing them away with the raise of his hand. 

Sukuna wasn't in the mood to have any other concubine clinging to him but you. 

As you approached, you rolled your eyes. "Don't call him Master," you said to the women as they backed away. "He doesn't deserve it." 

Sukuna smirked as you poured him some wine, his fingers grazing yours softly. "You never learn, do you?" he asked in a quiet, mocking tone so the others couldn't hear.

You didn't have much to learn, though. You knew he liked power, and you had a lot more than all of his concubines combined. You were the only woman there who had almost mastered sorcery. 

Then, a little more loudly, making everyone stop and pay attention to you, he said, "How would you address me then? Surely, you're not the kind of woman who calls your master darling, are you?" he joked mockingly while licking his lips.

Once you finished pouring his wine, you smirked to yourself, knowing that in the end, you were his favorite concubine. And in his own way, he respected you in return. 

"I would call you by your name," you replied, loud enough for the other women to hear, satisfied to hear their giggles, knowing it would rile him up further. Even if you loathed the other concubines, entertainment was welcomed as the months passed. It's not like you could just leave the castle and return to your coven whenever you pleased. 

Bending down slightly, you whispered into Sukuna's ear with a lustful drawl. "Such a title must be earned." 

As you turned around, Sukuna raised an eyebrow, a smirk on his lips as he watched you return to your cushion, another glass of wine waiting for you to devour. You always acted unbothered, but ultimately, he suspected you were. Why else wouldn't you accept the offer of being his concubine? Your relationship with him was in limbo because you craved something more. 

He sipped the wine, letting the flavor spread across his tongue. He knew you liked to defy him, and he found it quite amusing. "You're quite the bold one," Sukuna said, his voice low yet teasing. "But I assure you, Y/N, soon enough you will beg to call me Master." 

Sukuna was transfixed by your defiant behavior, knowing full well you challenged him because you knew he wouldn't lay a finger on you. He knew your coven protected you with a spell, so he couldn't physically punish you. Despite the frustration, there were still beneficial reasons why he kept you around. It took bravery to even bother with him, and he admired you for it. Perhaps you were the only woman he was genuinely interested in. 

Sukuna listened to his concubines gossiping amongst themselves as he sipped his wine, wondering how he would break his little witch in. He had already tried using his power on you, but as expected, the protection spell had kept you safe. Not that he minded; it just made the chase more amusing.

Ever since you'd been offered to him as a bargaining chip to save your coven, a day hadn't passed where he didn't think of you. When he saw you for the first time, an unquenchable flame ignited inside him. How you looked that night, emerging past the elders in a revealing black dress decorated in gold and jewels, a tiara with rubies dipping between your brows, was a sight he couldn't seem to forget. The Onryo. They called you. 

At the time, Sukuna didn't want a bride, only a concubine. But each day you tempted him, his resistance faltered. Months came and went without you in his bed, and he grew restless and irritated. You opted to tease him instead, insulting him whenever he disappeared with one of his concubines. He knew you were a prized possession; he knew it was dangerous to overstep the protection spell your coven put on you, ensuring no rules would be broken. You already promised him the strongest heir possible, but he still hadn't agreed to every condition in the pact. He wasn't ready to give up his concubines, and you knew that. 

And you didn't budge, only wishing to fulfill your duty when the time was right, for your coven and Sukuna's dynasty.

Over time, Sukuna continued to tire of the other concubines, increasingly ignoring them to the degree that his chambers remained barren for the past few months. It was bothersome, as he didn't like this feeling of… dissatisfaction. None of them excited him the way you did. None of them challenged him like you. 

It all came to a head when he caught you flirting with the palace guards. His eyes burned with frustration, and he summoned his fire, stepping forward before Uraume's sudden presence distracted him. 

"Permission to speak freely, Sukuna-Sama?" they bowed their head slightly. 

"Yes." Sukuna's tone was sharp, eyes still daggering at you, cozying up with the guards and laughing with them as he supposed you did every night when he didn't request you. The only thing he allowed you to leave for was your rituals; sometimes, they lasted all night. It made him wonder if you were fucking his men behind his back. 

A long silence passed, with only the faint echo of your laugh heard. It graded against his eardrums, hearing that another man had captured your attention, let alone make you smile. 

"I wish to remind you that Y/N is a smart woman. I would not want you to do anything in haste." 

"As if I don't know that!" Sukuna snapped, "she belongs to me, after all." 

Shaking their head, Uraume sighed. "My Lord—"

"I am aware," Sukuna interrupted. If anyone knew the truth, it was Uraume. You treated them with extra care, feeding them bits and pieces of your predicament in hopes they would reveal them to Sukuna when necessary. You weren't just playing with Uraume, though. You considered them a friend. Probably your only friend in the palace. They knew that deep within their heart, which is why they bothered to defend you. Seeing your face every day made the palace more lively. Did Sukuna even realize all that you sacrificed for him? 

"That wench of a Supreme tricked me into a binding vow." 

Tricked was a strong word. Nobody could really trick the King of Curses. Uraume knew it was his way of admitting he was weak at that moment. Meeting you for the first time, which even Uraume could admit you looked divine, ravishing, unlike any woman they'd seen before—that spectacle was what led to this entire mess. Sukuna was the one who allowed your behavior to continue. He wasn't tricked. He just wanted the chase and the power. He wanted you from the moment he saw you and was too arrogant to admit it. 

There was no way Sukuna could ever love somebody, right? It all finally made sense to Uraume at that moment. Based on your own admission, based on the fact that he hadn't taken one of his concubines to bed in months, growing more frustrated with each day that passed, only craving a presence he couldn't obtain. 

"Are you…" Uraume chose their words carefully. Sukuna was clearly jealous, but it was your job to say that word, not them. "...Considering to follow through?" 

His crimson eyes narrowed. "It has crossed my mind," he finally admitted. "But I won't be tricked by that she-demon again." 

"I speculate that if Y/N wanted to deceive you, she would have done so already." 

Sukuna let Uraume’s advice pervade. He imagined every possibility for trickery on your part but came up with nothing. You were waiting for him, not the other way around. You were already bound to him, the contract only in limbo because you witches were just as power-hungry as him and incredibly selective. They would not allow a woman from their coven to bear children with a man who also produced bastards. The magic would cease to work for that purpose alone. And that was a sacrifice you wouldn't make, even for him. Even if he was a king, even if he was a curse, the coven always played the long game. As they've done for centuries and would do again. 

"Demand that she visit my chambers when she's done being a harlot," Sukuna spat, turning his back on them and deciding to leave. 

"Sukuna-Sama," Uraume warned, glancing back to the palace gates, where you still chummed with the guards. "Are you sure?" 

Sukuna waved his hand. "My mind is made." 

They stared at their lord as he walked away, acting as if he wasn't bothered by the revelation, acting as if he didn't just spare you and his men from certain death. That was when Uraume recognized Sukuna's true feelings for you. 

However twisted they might be. 

An hour later, the kitchen door swung open, presenting you in a seductive, revealing dress. Whether Sukuna noticed or not, you always wore your best garments on nights when the moon was absent. 

Hunger twisted in your stomach as you realized how late it was and how long you'd gone without a meal. All you wanted was to steal a few snacks without anyone noticing before retreating to your chambers. 

But, for once at this hour, Uraume was chopping away at a slab of meat, some already cooking in a stew on the firewood stove. It smelled delicious, and you sighed blissfully. They would be the last person to mind if you stole a few bites, as you often did, complimenting them with a smile on your face before disappearing again. 

"Sukuna requests you visit his chambers," Uraume said, their tone leaving no room for debate. They didn't even turn around to greet you. No excitement to see you, no friendliness in their tone. It made you pause. 

"Is it a request or is it a demand?" you asked, covering your worry with a displeased smirk, rounding the stone countertop to see precisely what Uraume was preparing. It looked delicious, and your stomach grumbled with comedic timing. 

Uraume finally glanced at you, knowing that you were beside them. "I would suggest going to see him now." They nodded to the elaborately prepared tray beside them. You watched as they spooned a bowl full of cooked meat, steam billowing into the air. "He's already waited an hour." 

"Before he gets angrier?" you asked, plucking some food into your mouth. Once you swallowed, you grabbed the tray in both your hands. "Does he ever feel another way?" 

Only a slight crack in the corner of Uraume's lips signaled they weren't sending you to your death. Their eyes were serious. Even if you were their friend, Sukuna was still their King. 

"He was boiling when he saw you fraternizing with the castle guard," Uraume said, refusing to reveal anything else. "Have you no shame, Y/N?" 

You quirked an eyebrow, unable to hide your surprise. "What else am I to do to pass the time?" 

"You are bound to him, Y/N, don't forget your place. Sukuna-Sama has been generous enough. He can still kill you if he pleased." 

"Generous is a bit theatrical," you huffed, parting from Uraume after one last smile. "But thank you," you added, nodding to the food. Whatever conversation you were about to have with Sukuna might be softened once he saw that you were fetching his meal. 

The castle halls were eerily empty and quiet. There were never many people around, but it had never felt this dreadful to you before. All you could hear was the sound of your own sandals scuffing against the rug as you approached his chamber. 

The sound of your pattering knuckles filled the silence, and you quickly slid the door open and entered before receiving a reply. 

Sukuna's back was to you, his fingers grasping the balcony's edge. He didn't turn around when he heard you enter the room, but he tensed slightly. "Did I give you permission to enter my chambers?" he said curtly, his voice laced with annoyance. 

"You had requested me," you replied just as harshly. "Where have you been all night?"

"None of your concern," he said, tone cold and final. 

There was an agonizing minute of silence that passed. He didn't turn around to look at you, still avoiding having to look you in the eyes. Once he did, he wondered if he could resist the temptation. From afar, he saw what you were wearing. If he had to see it up close… an almost identical dress on the day he first met you. 

"Are you going to stand there staring at my back?" he asked irritably, still not bothering to turn around.

"If you want to be alone, so be it," you snapped, turning around and heading for the door. "I'll leave your meal on the table and thank Uraume for you." 

He turned around quickly, a scowl on his face. "You defy the simplest of orders and instructions," Sukuna muttered under his breath, his annoyance vanishing once he glimpsed the very body he was trying to resist. That damn dress. It was far too revealing. All that was missing was a crown. What a seductress you were, almost bringing the King of Curses to his knees at the very sight of you. 

He was clearly upset. Provoked that even though you purposely annoyed him, hardly followed his orders, and kept yourself and your body off limits to his desires— he always sought you out. "Come here," he ordered savagely, his hungry eyes locking with yours.

You knew when he was angry, as he usually always was. But the look in his eyes was different tonight. Was it sadness? Was it jealousy? Obeying his request, you left the food inside and walked onto the balcony. You were grateful for Uraume's hint, leading you to approach him more cautiously. 

The two of you often played board games out there when the weather was nice. Go was your favorite, and Sukuna still had yet to beat you. Perhaps he relented because he couldn't have sex with you all night, and it was the only way you'd spend time with him alone. Go was maybe the one thing you'd mastered besides magic. 

A part of you wondered if that's what he wanted, too. It had been about a week since the last time you challenged him. You watched him sit down before asking, "Would you care to play a game to release some stress, my Lord?" You added the honorific with the raise of your brows, suspecting you might actually be walking on a thin, thin line with him already. 

"I don't want to play games, witch," he grumbled impatiently, his scowl deepening at your sudden prudence. He much preferred the attitude that kept him on his toes. "Sit down," he incited, hand pointing to the spot next to him on the sofa. 

The wind was blowing briskly, making the trees surrounding the palace sway and rustle softly. The atmosphere was tense, almost dangerous, the air seeming to crackle with electricity.

"It's a beautiful night," you said, watching the branches tangle around each other in the breeze. The stars were shining bright in the absence of the moon. As you finally sat beside Sukuna, you turned to look at him. "Will you tell me what's wrong?" 

"Would it not be easier to use your magic to root through my mind instead?" he scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. What a ludicrous answer. 

There was a momentary silence. It was tense and heavy. The only sound that could be heard was the rustling of the trees. 

"What fun is there in that?" you sighed, the tease in your tone fading away with the wind. For once, you didn't come there to defy or disrespect him. For the first time, you came for comfort, to know him better. Yes, you enjoyed your life at the palace. You knew your place, but it wasn't to just be his concubine. What you really wanted was to be his Queen. But Sukuna was cruel, heartless, and malevolent. Rarely, almost never, did fragments of his true self emerge. 

"A strong powerful man like you should be able to express what you're feeling." 

"I'm in no mood for fun," he said curtly, his expression remaining cold.

Another pause, the tension in the air so dense it felt like he was physically curling his hands around your throat. 

Until finally, he heaved a frustrated sigh. "I want you to be honest with me." There was no reason for him to struggle this much with the thoughts swirling in his mind, but being in your presence often did that to him. Sharing his power was something he never wanted to do. He never expected any woman to even stand remotely close to his level of wickedness and hunger for domination. "Did you reject my proposal because of the coven or because of your wishes?" 

"What proposal?" you tilted your head, confused. His red eyes burned with emotions you didn't expect him to be capable of. 

"My proposal to you as my concubine," he said, tone hardening. 

There was a pause; the wind rustled the trees gently and seemed to echo his words. Your reply was absent, which frustrated Sukuna further. He was growing impatient, watching as your lips parted and your eyebrows furrowed. "Why must you refuse to be just a concubine?" he asked. 

"I lust for power just as you do, Sukuna, it is what is required of me," you sighed. "I cannot just be a concubine. I will not descend to the level of those lowly, moronic, women you keep around for no other reason than your twisted pleasure. They cannot give you the heir you need. To them, the title of concubine is an honor, but to me, it is an insult," you said with a bitter tone before glancing away and looking back up at the sky. Sukuna only knew pieces of your bloodline, your coven, and what the spell cast on you entailed. "And I'm not fond of sharing," a displeased, tight smile cracked across your face, hoping he wouldn't pry further. 

Sukuna narrowed his eyes and reached out to grasp your chin, turning your head so that you were facing him again. His expression was cold, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes, almost a hint of tenderness. 

"Are you saying you no longer wish me to bed other women?" he asked in a low, menacing tone, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. 

Once he released your chin, you nodded but kept your gaze glued to his. "The thought of your hands on another woman, your body against anyone's but mine makes me..." you trailed off, not wanting to overstep. You loved teasing him. You loved that you had power over the other concubines. But your defiance came from the desperation of your situation. To be handed off to the King of curses like you were nothing but a prized cattle, forced to watch as he took his other concubines to bed, enraged you. The Supreme had tricked him, leaving it up to you to convince the most evil man in the country that you deserved respect. The most rigorous challenge of all. 

Sukuna paused for a moment, considering what you just said. He then leaned close to you, his forehead almost touching yours as his crimson eyes studied your expression intently.

"There's another reason, is there not?" he said in a low voice, his words almost like a whisper. Then Sukuna smirked wickedly, his eyes gleaming with amusement as if it finally made sense to him. "Do you envy them, Y/N?" he teased, his hand reaching your waist, grasping it, and pulling you onto his lap.

You let him encircle his arms around you. It didn't matter if Sukuna was enjoying your torment. This was precisely what you expected. "It's not envy, Sukuna." you rolled your eyes, eyes flickering down to his smirk. His arms slipped around your waist tighter, causing a breathy sigh to leave your lips. The temptation was unbearable. That's why you never sat on his lap until now. Possessiveness glistened in your eyes, nostrils flaring slightly. "It makes me sick to my stomach to see you with those whores." 

Sukuna's smirk grew wider as he heard your response, his eyes filled with amusement and desire. "Then prove your worthiness," he dared in a low, seductive growl that sent shivers down your spine. "Prove to me that you deserve to be my queen," he continued, his hand going further down, his fingers slipping under your dress, gripping your inner thigh.

Just from that intimate touch underneath your clothes, your body felt like it was on fire. You wanted more so desperately, which was the cruelest curse of all. You should have slapped his hand away, but something within you yearned for him vehemently. His fingers crept closer to your pulsing core, and you couldn't pull away. For months, all you had craved was his attention. 

"Sukuna-" you warned, willing to explain it all to him, but was caught off guard when he bit down on the delicate skin of your neck. He sucked the spot roughly, his other hand creeping under your dress and to your thigh. 

"Y/N..." he murmured, his mouth still lingering on the spot, the sound of his voice low and filled with passion. Sukuna's fingers moved higher, brushing against your heat, grinning against your skin as he felt your shiver. He could easily seduce you; he was sure of it, but that wasn't what he wanted. He wanted to see you beg for him to take you to bed, and that wouldn't be easy. He wanted you to be willing and eager. He wanted you to give yourself to him. 

"Sukuna...I am not..." you began to protest, your words caught in your throat as his hands pried between your thighs, forcing your legs open wider, teasing your entrance with his fingertips.

Fuck. That was what your mind screamed at his touch. You had been so determined to beat him with twisted power plays, only to care for him in a different way than just the empowerment of your coven through an heir. You thought it would take much more convincing for Sukuna to agree to your demands and understand the repercussions. But he was worshipping your body instead, enticing you to join him in hell. 

Your yearning for him panged so harshly that it came in a sudden wave from your stomach to your core—etching a gasp from your lips. 

"Are you always this exposed underneath such revealing dresses?" he chuckled once he found you weren't wearing undergarments, pressing a finger against your clit. Jolts of electricity shot through your body, and you let out a fervid whimper. Did he know what he was getting into? Was he really considering making you his Queen? It would happen soon enough, though, for the second he impregnated you, the spell would annul every other possible heir if he didn't accept you as his only. 

Once his finger started to swirl in circles, you knew it was over. Your body was begging for him, begging for release. The allure of it all made your explanation die in your throat, and all you could choke out was, "If you take me tonight, I want all the other concubines dead." 

Sukuna chuckled wickedly at your words, the sound resonating deep in his chest and vibrating against your skin.

"Is that so?" he replied, inserting a digit inside your eager, desperate pussy. "How bold of you to give me orders, Y/N." He grinned, red eyes glinting with lust and satisfaction. "Will you deal the finishing blow?" he murmured teasingly, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear, before he pushed another finger inside. 

"Y-yes," you nodded, stuttering, eyes flickering down to the position he finally had you in across his lap. Your ruffled dress almost pushed up to your waist; legs spread, flush against his growing length as his hands teased your cunt. 

Another gasp escaped you as he began to pump his fingers, his other hand gripping your waist and forcing you to stay still. "You want me...all to yourself?" he murmured in your ear.

"Need you to myself," you whimpered, finally giving in to the temptation. 

"Need me to yourself..." he mimicked seductively, his words filled with desire. He could sense your restraint waning, your body trembling in his grasp. "You need me." He continued pumping harder, his hot breath fanning across your neck. "To be all yours..." he whispered, his own voice filling with desperation and passion. 

But then, Sukuna suddenly paused. He withdrew his hands and leaned back into the sofa. He needed a second to process what was happening. How frustrating it was to be under your spell. It hardly took anything for you to seduce him; he was all over you, getting off on your pleasure and not his. It was strange how willing he was to submit to your desires. Was it some sort of trick? 

"What?" you whimpered at his withdrawal, opening your eyes to gaze at him. Without his touch, you felt cold. Shifting around in his lap, you faced him. 

"Prove your love for me, Y/N," he demanded, his eyes intense as he stared at you, the weight of his request hanging heavy between the two of you. "Tell me," he added, leaning forward to gently take your lips with his. Your eyes widened, but you kissed him back, gripping his shoulders to steady yourself, the need for all of him panging deeper. "How far are you willing to go to show me your devotion?" he pulled away to breathe, hot breath caressing your face.

Love…devotion… Have you not already proved it? 

"Anything," you whispered against his lips, grasping his wrists and moving them to the back of your gown. Once he loosened the knot, your dress fell around your shoulders. You tugged the lace down yourself, revealing your breasts to him for the first time. "My power will be yours to wield." 

Sukuna's eyes burned as they drank in your body. How perfect you were, the right amount of beauty and insanity. He admired you in silence, eyes studying the perk of your breasts before his expression turned more serious. One more question, and he would take you. Only if you answered right, though. 

"I will need you to give your blood and body to me, an offering that permanently binds your life to mine," he said, a chill settling over the air. You had already begged, and now he wanted you to prove your loyalty.

"Are you willing to pay that price?" he asked before his mouth pressed gently against your collarbone, then down to the middle of your breasts. Once he lifted his head, he searched your eyes for any hint of hesitation. Just a pause of uncertainty from him made you smile, revealing that he actually cared, that he was solemn and somewhat apprehensive.

But, you had none, already understanding this action would be forever, for eternity, transcending time and any powers you could comprehend. Powers that had yet to even manifest.

You were willing, you were eager.

"I thought it was given." You stared deeply into his eyes. "I am no stranger to binding vows, my King." 

Sukuna nodded, a small smile forming on his face. "Very well then, Y/N," he said, his voice low and firm. "It's settled. From this day forward, you'll be my Queen and I'll be your King. Nobody else will dare to defy your wishes except me," he concluded with finality, leaning forward to press his forehead against yours, all four of his hands coming to cup your cheeks. Your heart swelled with pride as he revealed his true form to you. 

In acceptance, you kissed him harshly before reaching up to pull out the hairpin he gifted you the first day you arrived at the palace. With your hair cascading down your bare shoulders, you revealed the hidden blade inside and swiped it across your finger. "My life is yours, Sukuna," you promised. 

Sukuna watched as a small cut appeared on your finger, blood welling up quickly at the shallow wound. He grasped your hand, bringing your finger to his lips and running his tongue along the edge of the cut. Then he placed your finger in his mouth, sucking on it lightly, his tongue teasing the sensitive skin, tasting the metallic tang of your blood.

When the cut had closed, Sukuna pulled your finger out of his mouth, his crimson eyes fixed on yours. "All mine," he whispered, his voice low and sultry.

Taking the hairpin from you, he swiped over his own thumb, deeper than you had. Your eyes were wide in astonishment as he pushed his bleeding thumb into your mouth, sealing the bond he requested. You sucked, eyelashes fluttering, waiting until the cut closed. 

The King of Curses was now yours, completely. 

"Now, you can have me any way you'd like," you whispered, eyes darkening with lust and excitement. "And afterward, we can go on a killing spree." 

A fervent need flared in his eyes as you spoke, your voice dripping with desire. "You are a dangerous woman, my future Queen," he murmured, his voice gravelly as he stared down at you, a smirk playing on his lips. But it was clear that he was just as aroused as you were, his body tense with need. "I cannot say no to you when you look at me like that."

In the next breath, Sukuna was all over you. His mouth latched onto your breast while the other pinched your nipple. All you could do was hold his face in your hands, moaning as you watched him prepare your body for his length. Desire pooled lower and lower in your abdomen, and all you could do was sway your hips for release, remembering what his fingers felt like inside of you. 

"Can't wait any longer," Sukuna grunted, swirling his tongue across your chest and up the side of your neck before taking your lips with his once again. The kiss was deep, and his tongue dominated your mouth, claiming it without protest. Breaking away for air, a strand of saliva connected your lips to his, the heat and desperation of your emotions were overwhelmingly noticeable. 

"Why don't you just ride me now," he ripped your dress off in a swift movement, etching a gasp from you. "Since you're so desperate for my cock." 

"Y-Yes, Sukuna." Your voice shook from the trepidation and pact you made with him. It was as if you sensed the change, felt your bond to him solidify. Wobbly, you stood up from his lap as he pulled his pants off, kicking them down to his ankles. He was bigger than you imagined, so long and thick that you wondered if you could even take him. But, you were determined, you needed him, craved him, and now you were forever his. 

Sukuna watched your eyes widen as his cock sprang free. All he could do was smirk, especially when he could smell your arousal. "You can take it, Y/N," he encouraged. "You have to take it now." 

You were engorged, dripping, swollen, all for him—from the thought of consummating your pact to him on the balcony, hopefully where everyone could hear you cry his name. He was unable to take his eyes off you as you sat back down on his lap, positioning his cock at your entrance. 

A whimper of elation escaped your lips as you sat upon him, slowly, letting yourself sink down on his throbbing cock, feeling the length stretch your walls until it was impossible to go further. Watching you struggle against him made him grunt with satisfaction. Your pussy felt too good, a prize he'd been pining over for months. The best he ever had and will only have from that night onward. 

Taking your time, your entire body erupted with pleasure as you began to bounce on his cock. It was vivifying; every whimper you let out only fueled his desire further. Your pussy was pulsing erratically, so wet and welcoming for him, but you weren't going fast enough. What Sukuna really wanted to do was fuck you senseless, claim each and every inch of your body. After all, you had made him wait long enough. 

A low, possessive growl rumbled from his chest as he stood up from the sofa, gathering you in his arms with his cock still sheathed inside you. He brought you inside but left the door open, laying you down on the futon. Sukuna let you adjust to the position, let you squeeze against his cock, humming as your legs wrapped around his waist. "Tell me who you belong to," he demanded, staring down at you with a feral gleam in his crimson eyes. 

Nodding obediently, you whimpered, "You, Master." Hardly able to reply before he pulled his cock all the way out and then slammed it back in, burying himself deep inside your pussy, a groan of ecstasy leaving his lips at the way your walls coddled him so tightly, so perfectly, like you were made just for him. 

Crying out, you were a stuttering mess as he pounded into you over and over again, to the point where you swore you could see stars. Sukuna was huge, fucking you until your moans were mixing with his, the sound of your pussy squelching, taking him fully until he was balls deep, causing a devilish grin to spread across his face. 

He was consuming you, feeling his cock twitch inside of you as he glimpsed your breasts bouncing wildly underneath him. You felt too good, heavenly, the best he'd ever had. 

"M-Master!" you cried, climbing higher and higher, your walls constricting, building. "I can't take it—ah—yes!" you choked out, unable to control yourself from the relentless pace, causing you to orgasm all over his unyielding cock.

He smirked, satisfied at how quickly he could make you unravel. "How am I making you feel?" He asked, not slowing his pace or relenting, helping you ride out your high before he was going to throw you into another body-shaking orgasm. 

"Euphoric," you sobbed, tears clouding your vision, the sound of his skin slapping against your now-drenched pussy causing blood to pound louder in your ears. You could barely breathe, completely cock drunk and fucked-out. 

"Since you have arrived, you wanted this, didn't you?" Sukuna grunted, glimpsing the look of intoxication on your face. "I wanted to fill you up until you cry, you wretched creature." 

His sensuality was music to your ears, and all you could do was moan, nodding with parted lips, body rocking back and forth against his relentless pace. 

Your beauty enraptured Sukuna. How well and eager you took his length. "M'gonna breed you until you can't speak with that wicked tongue, forcing me to wait all this time to claim you." 

"Please S-Kuna, please," you whimpered, grasping onto his arms that caged you underneath him for support. You were unraveling in his grip, and he couldn't be more satisfied. "It's too much!" 

"Take it," he groaned an order, ramming into you over and over again. Your back arched against the bed as Sukuna hoisted your legs up higher around his waist, your ass cupped in both of his hands, thrusting right into your already inflamed g-spot.  

All you could feel was him; all you could think about was him. Opening your eyes, you saw his eyes narrowed, determination in his expression. He looked so handsome above you, focused on ruining your body for his pleasure. He was finally all yours. And the memory of it caused the pressure in your abdomen to tighten once again. 

“Fuck-oh-Sukuna!” Another cry was loudly called into the night, as you came again. It was hard. Violent. Sukuna watched as your entire body shuddered, your legs trembling as you squirted against him. You couldn't stop it; you couldn't stop your moans. 

At your quick and vocal release, Sukuna found himself unable to breathe, unable to even mutter a word as he plunged into euphoria, releasing his load into your sanctified cunt just seconds after you finished for the second time. 

Panting heavily, your legs dropped from his waist. You gazed up at your forever lover with rapture in your eyes, satisfaction pulling at your lips. When he pulled out, his load started to leak from your core. 

He simpered, admiring how beautiful you were like this, a smile on your face, skin glistening with sweat, his cum painting your pussy alabaster. 

Some of it started to leak out, but Sukuna would not let it go to waste. He leaned down to your pussy, flicking his tongue out to force it back inside, holding it until you were shaking again.

Once he was satisfied, he lifted his head between your legs, chin resting against your abdomen. The part of you that panged for his attention every night for eternity, that yearned every second to be like this, to see him so submissive between your thighs.

What mattered was his promise, an utterance that had no bounds, not even blood. No amount of sorcery could stop either of you. "I'm gonna breed you like that every night until your belly is swollen with my heir." 

That promise you knew he intended to keep, until the bounds of death were unshackled, and you came face to face with infinity.

[adoredaqua]

A Simple Misunderstanding

NOTE: Ahhh, I finally finished it! Here is the olderbf!simon riley fic I was talking about. I changed some parts of it so it fits a little better. ALSO! This is my first time writing something like this, so go easy on me (lolol(no, but seriously, tho)). And no, it is not edited :) I hope you all enjoy it!

Inspo for this (all of these parts have just been made into one full fic btw): part 1, part 2, part 3

Synopsis: olderbf! simon has more experience than you...but why does that seem to be a bad thing?

CW: Reader is gender neutral. Reader gets called "pretty" (once). Implied age gap (not specified). Mentions of alcohol and heavy consumption are implied but not too detailed. A bit of angst towards the end. [Let me know if I need to put anything else]

word count: 2k+

ᡣ𐭩₊˚.⋆⁺₊

Simon Riley was one good drinker. That alone pissed you off. You've never seen him drunk or flustered, and yet he's already lost count of how many times he's found you sitting on the curbs slurring your words, patiently waiting for him.

Tonight was the night. You were going to get your boyfriend drunk. Not like that, of course. You just wanted to see a new side of him. He's always so stoic and so tough. What was he like when he had his guard down? Would he get shy? Is he secretly a flirt? What was he hiding from you? Well, this was it. Tonight was date night; better yet, it was your pick on what kind of date you were having. As you sit by your desk at work, you think over your plan and nod to yourself.

This is a good idea.

Before you know it, the hours go by, and it's time for your date with your man. You go home for a quick shower and a change of clothes. Next thing you know, you hear a loud knock at your door.

"One sec!" With one last look over at yourself, you make your way to the door. You swing open and look up. "Hi, honey!" You looked up and smiled widely. Simon stands by the door, holding a bouquet of your favourites. He smiles softly once he looks you over. "Hello, dear, you look good." He presses a kiss on your lips, and you can't help but melt in his touch. "Are you reading to go?" 

"Yes, sir, let's go." You grab your purse and cling onto Simon's arm as he walks you both to his truck.

The drive to the bar was a long one, not that you both minded. This was usually the time when you would ramble about your day to Simon. He enjoyed it because he didn't need to do anything but listen to your voice. His favourite thing to do. He liked that you told him every detail, no matter how small, because to him, it meant everything. Finally arriving at your destination, he turns off the engines, makes his way to your side, and opens your door. 

"Always the gentleman, huh?" You giggled to yourself as you teased him. He couldn't help but chuckle at you. Walking to the entrance, arm in arm, you become more determined about reaching your goal.

He leads you toward the back, a more secluded area, just as you both like it. Once you've settled yourself in, he orders for the both of you. That's what you loved about Simon. You don't need to think for yourself; he'll take care of you. Yes, you enjoy being independent, but sometimes you just want to be cared for. A perk of dating a much older man. When you told your friends about the age gap between you two, they weren't all too surprised. You always had a thing for older men, what shocked them was how intimidating he was and how different you both were. He was more on the rugged side as you were on the more dainty side. But when they noticed how much he cared for you, they knew you were in safe hands. 

"I must say, sweets, this is quite different from your other suggestions for date night. I'm surprised you even know a place like this." He throws you a curious look and you feign an innocent smile. "I know, I wanted to try something new!"

"Well, this is certainly different." He gives a reassuring smile and takes your hand. He envelopes his hand around yours and starts to rub circles on the back of your hand. "Is there a reason why you wanted different? You're not getting bored now, are you?" He leans in, quirking an eyebrow, almost like he knew of your plans. 

"Nooo, I genuinely wanted to try something new and I'm not getting bored, silly." You pout at him and he snickers at your reaction, placing a kiss on your hand. 

Simon and you have only officially started dating for six months but you've known him for over two years. The reason why it took so long for you to get together was his job. Being in the military had its ups and downs. One of the many downs was being away for god knows how long. Simon stated that he didn't want you getting involved with him when half of the time he was away. You deserve someone always around but that didn't stop you from pursuing him. Once he understood how determined you were, he took you out for the night. Let's just say you didn't return to your own home after a week. 

"Si?"

"Yes love?"

"What's your alcohol tolerance like?" You tilt your head to the side to catch a better look at him. He furrows his brows at you. "I'm not sure."

"You not sure?" 

"Well when I know I'm drunk I'll stop but I can drink around... maybe eight to ten bottles of beer. Maybe more?" He looks unsure of himself but he goes back to the drink already in front of him. He was on drink three while you were still on your first. 

"Now, why are you-" Before he could say anymore you cut him off. "What's your favourite colour?"

"Um, black?" He gives you a quizzical look. 

"Do you like cupcakes?"

"It's okay I guess."

As the night went on, you continued to throw questions at Simon. He didn't seem bothered by your sudden eagerness to learn all about him. Being too distracted by your interrogation, Simon without a second thought kept drinking. He's never answered this many questions in one sitting, who knew you could get so thirsty? You did. You drank as well but at a slower pace. You try to think of more questions but you start to feel fuzzy. As you take a few bites of the food in front of you, you think to yourself about how else you could distract him.

"What're your exes like?" Before you could think about what you were asking, the words have already left you. As you comprehended what you were asking, you stayed still and slowly looked at the man in front of you. Simon's face was neutral, his eyes didn't tell much of a story. You couldn't tell if you had crossed a line. You knew what he was like. If he wanted you to know something, he would tell you. There wasn't any reason for him to be secretive, it was simply a habit of his that he couldn't seem to break. For you, he tries. 

"I'm sorry, you do-"

"I won't tell you of the ones in high school, I didn't know better back then." He blankly states but there is a softness to his eyes. 

"Really?" A curiosity starts to bloom within you, you didn't realize you wanted to know about his dating history so badly. 

"Sure, well then my first serious girlfriend was a nurse. We met on the base. She quit, and she realized that military life was too much. She's married with kids now." He smiles to himself, remembering a past life of his. You wanted to know more about her but you were too late, Simon continues. "Then there was the baker, she was nice. Eventually, she started her bakery and we both got too busy with life to see each other. Oh, and then there was the artist. I'm not sure where she is now, last I heard of her she was a feature at some museum."

"Oh, well, thank you for-"

"Then there was..."

Simon continued to talk as if he was put under a spell. You would be relieved, happy even, if the topic wasn't his dating history. You never thought he was the dating type but not. He seems to have dated all sorts of women, women who have become successful in life and career. You couldn't help but start to feel annoyed. Once he is done, he meets your eyes and they wrinkle. "Hmm, something they all had in common was how they made me feel like a great person and now," he looks straight into your eyes, "I'm with an amazing woman." His eyes wrinkle as he grins. 

"Wow, you've dated a lot of successful people."

"I guess that's true." He shrugs, I guess he's never given it much of a thought. That was probably his type...then why is he dating you?

Compared to these women, you were practically nothing. You worked in an office, you didn't have an ambition or any talents. You weren't his type at all. You were a young pretty thing that can't take 'no' for an answer. Maybe that's the reason why he agreed to go out with you. 

You shake that thought out of your head. He was dating you for a reason, he's stayed with you for this long. He adores you. You shouldn't get angry or upset at anyone. This man who is now perfect thanks to those before you is yours now. You're the true winner.

"How about you?"

"What?"

"How many people have there been before me?" He asks with no hint of jealousy at all. I mean he's too old for that.  

"Uhh, none?" You cringe at your answer. Simon was the first man you dated. Even in college, no one caught your eye to go on a date with. Besides, when you did like someone, it was always one-sided.

"What?"

"I don't know, I just never really liked anyone in college. I graduated, got a job, worked and kept working. Then I met you." 

"Wait, that means... I'm...?" Simon had a mortified look on his face, something you've never seen before. Well, one time you introduced the concept of social media to him and he did not understand in the slightest. 

Simon couldn't seem to find the words, so you finished his thought for him. "Yes, you're my first boyfriend."

"...Oh my lord..." 

Wait, is it that bad? I thought men liked it when they were in someone's first relationship. Is that wrong?

He grabs his drink and starts to chug it without another thought. 

"Ah, please stop drinking!!" You try to grab the bottle away but it is a failed attempt, he finishes his drink and slams the glass on the table. 

What the hell? Why was that his reaction? 

"Well, it seems like I'm just not as charming as you are." You say.

"Don't say such things. When you become my age, you'll have dated more people than I have." 

You looked at Simon, thinking what he could mean. 

"What? Why would I date anyone else?" Being the overthinker you are, every thought comes to your head and the worst ones seem to become true. "Are you thinking of breaking up with me?"

"That's not what I meant. I just mean that maybe in the distant future-" Simon was caught off guard and his usual calm self was gone. Now he was trying to fix the mess he made. 

"Why are you assuming that the future is distant or not?" Before you can carry on, he puts a hand to stop you. "What I meant was," he takes both of your hands in his and looks deeply into your eyes. "You said that this is your first relationship, and most first relationships don't last long."

You felt your heart dropping.

"Anyways, you never know what could happen. You're young, smart and attractive with a life ahead of you." He squeezes your hands together, a way to reassure you that this conversation was just some misunderstanding and it was silly. But something inside of you just didn't feel right. 

Why would he say something like that? 

"So, you don't think we're going to stay together?" The question was heavy, it felt like everyone started to listen to the conversation but you didn't care enough. An answer is what you need, not the opinions of others. 

"That's-" Simon stops himself, refusing to say anymore. He shakes himself as if to wake himself up from a nightmare. "Listen, my love, I've had a lot to drink. Why don't we continue this tomorrow instead?" 

"Continue what exactly? The inevitable?" He was about to stop you but you didn't care for any of it. You grab your purse and start to walk out of the door. You didn't look back and just walked on. You didn't care if he was following you or that it was late at night. All you wanted was to not be near him anymore. 

[marc-spectorr]

𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒐𝒓 𝒔𝒘𝒊𝒎

pairing: duke leto atreides x fem!reader

summary: It's the night before your wedding to Duke Leto Atreides and he finds you struck by panic about your future in Caladan.

warnings: 3.1k wc. arranged marriage, panic attack, anxiety, mentions of conceiving. my limited dune-lore knowledge. soft!leto.

a/n: first leto fic ahhh!! i may or may not write more parts to this in the future. i had so many ideas but if i wrote them all in one fic, it would be a long one (not to mention it would take 1001 years to finish and post). anyway, feedback is very much appreciated! hope you enjoy :)

—

Caladan.

There is a beauty to it that you cannot deny. It's captivating from the very first glance. An indescribable sight, unparalleled to anywhere else in the universe.

Of all the worlds you could be in at this moment, a part of you is glad it's Caladan. In spite of the circumstances that brought you here, you try to be grateful for it. Surely, there are worse places to live on than this.

Here, the ocean is vast, stretching far beyond the starlit horizon. A fresh breeze carries the salty scent of the water towards you. It tickles your skin as if it were a feather, the light coolness sending goosebumps along your arms. You tug your shawl more closely around your shoulders.

It is far from the hot desert landscape you know and love. Despite its recent hardships, that planet was once home to you. It still is. You wonder how long it will be before you consider Caladan as such. It's been one week since your arrival, and you're in a period of adjustment, which in truth, has not been too easy.

The beach is empty, unsurprising as the moon has moved far past its highest point in the sky. You can't sleep. You haven't for so long. Similar to all the nights prior, you had tossed and turned endlessly under silken sheets before deciding to go for a walk. You found no comfort in your bed despite the mattress beneath you being the softest there ever was.

It could be the chambers themselves, surrounded by four dark walls that are still very much foreign to you. You must get used to it, you remind yourself. In fact, it's more than just a room that you must get used to.

Tomorrow, your life will change more than it already has when you moved to Caladan.

Tomorrow is the wedding—your wedding. Many esteemed members of the Great Houses will be in attendance, alongside your closest family and friends, who are now worlds away from you. They will all be present to witness you exchange vows with Duke Leto Atreides, a man you barely know.

You exhale a deep, long sigh and draw your knees under your chin. Gentle waves lap onto the shore, the white foam almost reaching your toes before ebbing away. You watch in comfortable silence, the hypnotic rhythm of the waves creating a sense of calm.

Unwittingly, your mind combs through recent events. You spent plenty of these last few days surrounded by those more interested in your upcoming nuptials than you are. You've grown weary of feigning smiles every second in their company, of pretending to be okay when you are far from it.

You feel alone. You are alone.

It’s a sacrifice—leaving behind the life you had to help your struggling home world. Things are changing faster than the time you have to process them. But you can't afford to wait—the sooner you marry Leto, the sooner your father and your people's burdens will go away.

You are doing the right thing. The noble thing. It's what you were raised to do. The last thing you wish is to be seen as a disappointment.

Still, it doesn't mean you have your worries and doubts. You lack experience, having never courted someone before. You question whether or not you would be fit to be a wife to the stranger who is the Duke of Caladan. You're well aware of the responsibilities you would have to uphold, the expectation that one day you will need to bear him an heir…

You shut your eyes, trying to push past the feeling of your heart starting to pick up and thud heavily against your ribs. But the pit of anxiety gnawing at your stomach grows and grows, and it's a losing battle. Not even the ocean waves that mesmerized you moments ago could distract you from the mounting panic inside.

Your thoughts batter you from within like a storm raging out of control. The pressure and expectations others have on you— that you have on yourself— can't be stopped. 

They're too loud; they refuse to be ignored this time around.

Your body trembles, your breaths are short and shallow, and it feels like you are drowning; you're helplessly caught in a dangerous current that pulls you under the water. The weight in your chest drags you down and deeper, sinking and sinking until you hit the very bottom of the depths of your own mind, deprived of any air, any light.

It's only until a voice calls out your name over and over again that you resurface. Warm, gentle hands urge you to sit right back up, and you don't have it in you to fight against them. You don't remember curling up on your side, wound in a tight little ball, nearly burrowing yourself into the sand bed as if wanting to be swallowed whole.

"Breathe, darling... Listen to my voice and just breathe, alright? One... two... three..."

You can't see him, not through the hot, stinging tears obscuring your eyes. But you can hear him. His voice's hazy, soft lull is strangely familiar, yet you cannot place whose it is.

He coaxes you repeatedly, and you focus on his words as if they are your one and only lifeline—as if they are the calming waves reaching the shoreline. 

You do as he says. You breathe.

"One... two... three... That's it, my lady. Deep breaths for me, and again— one... two... three... Good girl, and again. Breathe..."

You're unsure how long has passed by the time your heart slows, and your breathing evens out. Your blurred vision clears once your tears have settled, and your eyes widen when you recognize the face before you.

Duke Leto Atreides kneels beside you, dressed in a manner you have never seen him in. He has on a loose white shirt and dark lounge bottoms, his graying head of curls mussed by the wind blowing past.

You're uncertain why he's at the beach alone at this late hour despite being seemingly ready for bed. Perhaps concerned guards informed him of your wandering about the castle in the dead of night. Did he come all this way in search of you?

Leto’s dark eyes search your face for the reason of your distress. Embarrassment sweeps over your cheeks— you cannot imagine how much of a pitiful mess you look. God, what if you've ruined it? What if seeing you this way, so weak, and frightened, and pathetic, has Leto wishing to rescind his agreement to marry you? What if, what if—

"Hey, shh… Relax. There is no need to fret," Leto soothes. He must have seen the worry in your eyes, but instead of ridicule as you anticipated, he looks at you with concern.

You cast your gaze down, catching sight of your hand in his. He hasn't let go of it since finding you, and when he notices your muscles tense up from the anxiety that seizes your body once more, he squeezes.

Leto squeezes your hand firmly but nowhere near the point of pain. His words are a quiet murmur in your ears. "Don't go back there, darling. Stay here, on this beach. Squeeze my hand back so I know you're here with me. Can you do that for me, please?"

With his other hand, Leto places a finger under your chin to tip it upwards, meeting your eyes. Again, he holds your hand tightly and brushes his thumb over your knuckles. You concentrate on him, matching your breaths to his. The tension starts to slip away bit by bit, and when it does, you finally squeeze his hand back.

"There you go. Just breathe, you're alright," Leto murmurs with a small smile. It dawns on you how close he is when the sound of the ocean becomes second to his voice. "Better?"

You swallow, then nod following a brief pause, not trusting yourself to speak.

Moving slowly so as not to startle you, Leto picks up your shawl from the ground, dusting it clean of grains of sand before draping it over your shoulders.

You expect him to leave, seeing you have regained some semblance of composure. You much prefer that he would. You can't handle explaining to Leto what was wrong. Is wrong.

The air turns silent as you face the water, wiping the dried-up tears from your cheeks with your fingers. You don't see Leto in your peripheral vision, but he's there, watching you. You can feel it.

"Here," you hear Leto say. Glancing to the side, you find him still sitting next to you. He offers his handkerchief, gently motioning it toward you when he senses your hesitation.

With the slightest smile, you accept the piece of cloth, whispering a "thanks" and looking away. 

It occurs to you then that this is your first true moment with Leto. Before today, you had only seen glimpses of him. The most time you have spent with him was during your first encounter, and even then, it wasn't for long.

You chalked it up to Leto having no genuine interest in you. Why would he? He has duties that are much more pressing than entertaining you.

It's not much of a surprise. It would be wrong of you to expect for more. Ultimately, this marriage is not one for love but born out of necessity. A political alliance. A guarantee that your people will be well taken care of. That's the agreement.

Not to mention, you've heard them— those hushed talks amongst the servants and guards about how Caladan does not stand to gain anything from the union.

They are not wrong; many have supposedly expressed concern, including members of the Duke's inner circle. You wonder if he will come to regret his decision one day.

"You've had quite a fright there."

Leto's voice cuts through the silence between you. He shuffles from behind, sitting where he can better see you. You stop yourself from glancing down; it would be rude, and you don't want to tarnish both your image and your family's name even more than you already have.

"I-I am deeply sorry, my lord. You shouldn't have to see that," you manage to get out, catching the way Leto's brows knit together in response.

"There's no shame in such. Why apologize?" he asks you in a soft tone. "And please, there's no need for formalities. Call me Leto. After all, we are betrothed to one another."

Your throat suddenly dries at the reminder that the man before you is your soon-to-be husband. You wring your hands in your lap and give him a nod, skirting from answering his earlier question.

Leto is quick to pick up your nervousness. You can almost see his brain working to piece it all together and grasp what was happening when he stumbled upon you.

You dread what words Leto might say, fearing they will be judgments made against you. You hide from his piercing stare, picking at your nails until a pair of rough yet gentle hands gathers yours, halting you.

Leto squeezes your hands softly, very much like he did before, and it soothes the part of you that has always ached but you could never get rid of.

"You do not have to carry your burdens alone, my lady," Leto murmurs, leaning to catch your eyes once more, and he does. "Whatever it is, unload it on me. Now, tell me what's wrong."

It's almost cruel that your instinct is to doubt him. But if the sincerity bleeding into his voice wasn't enough for you to give him a chance, then it's the tenderness in his gaze. You see the understanding in them, the concern and genuine desire to ease your troubles away.

Your initial perception of Leto has been wrong. You've been wary of him. Intimidated. But this is no man holding no care for you. He could have easily walked away after finding you amidst a fit. Instead, he stayed. He's here when you were convinced he would never find the time to be.

You open up to Leto like a floodgate, admitting to him the thoughts that plagued your mind from the day you learned about this marital arrangement, your nervousness for tomorrow's wedding and your fear of solitude in Caladan in the days that would follow.

You feel selfish, guilty even, for saying all of this out loud. You have no right to complain when the locals here have treated you with only kindness. Others would dream of being in your shoes—of living in a beautiful land, gaining an honorable title, and having a husband who would make you the envy of many.

Why must a blessing cause you great grief?

Leto listens to every word with undivided attention. He lets you speak freely and honestly, never once interfering between your sobs and sentences. He clears his throat only when the whispering waves of the ocean have lingered in the space between the two for some time.

"You are right when you said some of my advisors opposed me marrying you," Leto begins softly, gauging every bit of your reaction as he speaks. "They told me it would bring no benefit to House Atreides—that all we'll do is use up precious time and resources for a dying planet already beyond saving. Their words, not mine."

There is a quiet beat. Leto glances towards the horizon, where the first faint inklings of dawn break through the skies. He continues: "I realized then that those men do not uphold the same values I believe in. Caladan has more than enough riches to go around. There is no humanity in turning a blind eye to people's suffering—especially when we have it in our power to provide aid.

"I've had plenty of disagreements with my advisors, but I couldn't allow those without hearts to remain on my council. My lack of presence is not because I had no interest in getting to know you. Rather, I was ensuring those who showed little care for my bride and her ancestral land no longer served as advisors of mine—a task that regrettably stole time I would have spent with you."

You fall silent. The breath that leaves you seemingly takes more of the load on your being. Your respect for Leto grows. You see now the kind, thoughtful, benevolent man he is. 

How could you have been so wrong about him? You'd been irrational, too assuming. So afraid he would turn out to be the complete opposite when he gave you no valid reason that he's such. You should not have been quick to judge his character when you had known nothing about him in the first place.

"I... thank you, my lor—Leto," you eventually say, turning to him. Shame and remorse cling to your tongue. "I am terribly sorry again. Had my mind been sound, I would've realized my distress is unwarranted."

"Nonsense. You're overwhelmed; your worries were reasonable. All I want is the two of us to be on the same page," Leto replies. The warm smile that adorns his lips when you correct yourself and address him by name lingers. “Let's start over, shall we then?"

You watch as he stands on his feet, reaching out his hand towards you. With Leto's help, you pull yourself up from the sandy floor, shaking off the pins and needles stinging your limbs. He holds his hand out once more, this time for a handshake.

"Hello, I am Leto and welcome to Caladan. It is a pleasure to meet you and an honor to have your presence here."

A smile blooms across your face as you shake his hand, formally introducing yourself to Leto the way he had. "I cannot thank you enough for agreeing to this. I, my father, and our people are eternally grateful for your generosity."

Leto makes a small bow of his head, capturing your hand between his own. Something inside you feels lighter now. The air around you, once thick like water, isn't anymore.

"You will no longer have to worry about your home world. I will make certain they receive all that they need—as for you, as well. I am here for you, even if it's simply as an ear to listen."

A pause. Leto's voice melts a touch softer. He looks at you with eyes deep and brown as the bark of a pine. "In a matter of hours, you and I will wed. It's merely for formality's sake. What goes on between us as husband and wife is nobody's business but ours. Please know that I ask for and expect nothing in return for agreeing to this arrangement. You will never be forced to do anything you do not wish to. Ever. Is that understood?"

You take in Leto's words, becoming aware of the unspoken ones, those hidden between the lines. Their implications settle on you, and you let out a quiet breath of relief into the air.

"I do," you assure before adding, for what could be the hundredth time since Leto has joined you, "Thank you."

“You’re welcome, my lady.”

The sun peaks over the skyline, casting bright golden rays over Caladan. Leto briefly glances in the distance, the silver strands of his mane and beard catching the light, and they glimmer before your eyes. He smiles wide, the lines on his face crinkling as he watches the sunrise.

You also find yourself smiling, spending a moment more studying Leto's profile before turning to what's ahead of you.

Caladan takes your breath away, even more so in the daylight. You can fully appreciate it now that the storms in your mind have passed, and it's as clear as the skies.

"It's a beautiful day to get married." Leto remarks as the two of you gaze out to the water. After basking in the peaceful silence, he meets your eyes again, offering you his arm like a gentleman would. "Come, let me escort you back to your room. We both should rest up a bit before the festivities start."

Nodding in agreement, you quietly say goodbye to the ocean and allow Leto to guide you away from the beach. The sand beneath your shoes eventually turns to a rocky pathway at the foot of Castle Caladan, its grandeur towering over you.

A warm hand slips into yours.

"From now on, you will never feel alone," Leto says, pressing a soft squeeze to your hand. His hold is comforting, and reassuring. “You will always have me at your side, darling. I promise you that."

You smile at Leto, feeling something tender unfold in your chest when he returns a smile of his own.

You believe him, and for once, you think you will be okay.

—

taglist: @pigeonmama

please note that i’m starting a new taglist for my fics. if you would like to be included, let me know :)

[breannasfluff]

Fanfiction Comments: Why Bother?

Genuine question: If ya’ll like a story, why not comment?

This question, born out of previous discussions and Discord chats, is one writers have been dealing with for a long time. Feedback/reblogs on art tends to be more common than on fics. Yet writers continue to beg for comments on stories. So what's stopping people?

Don't know what to say/an emoji/script feels too impersonal

Forgot to comment

Read everything and how do you pick out one part?

Rather give feedback personally

Feels like an expectation/I owe them

Send me a string of emojis? I love it. Send a single heart? I love it. Keyboard smash? I love it. Copy/paste a "thank you for writing"? I still love it. "I don't know what to comment or how to put my feelings into words." Then put that! That's a compliment! Can't think of anything to say, then "I don't know what to write but asgfdhgf I liked it." is fine!

Seriously, I don't care WHAT you put, because it shows me you cared enough to take a few second to show that love. I recognize and look for my regular commenters, even the ones who leave just a heart or "extra kudos".

Forgot to comment? Leave the fic open on your phone or get in the habit of dropping SOMETHING right as you finish. If you had time to make it through the last 100 words, you can probably tap an emoji. It's likely more of a habit to build up than anything.

Read it in one go and it's all a blur? "I read this all in one go and it's a blur, but I loved it!" We don't need specifics; just tell us you loved it on the chapter you stopped on. That in itself is a compliment because Hey! You loved it so much you had to keep reading!

Personal feedback? Well, I'll never say no to friends gushing about stories to me! And it might not be the same for everyone, but if you stop commenting on AO3 and only tell me personally...my assumption is you don't like it enough to say it publicly. I've spent many a time wondering why people stopped giving that support and what I should do better. If it's a friend, try asking them which they prefer! We can go back and reread (and do!) AO3 comments. Much harder on discord/dms/etc.

Owing authors? Look, we put a lot of time and work into writing and providing content for free. Hours of idea planning, actual writing, editing, catering to requests, etc. My partner once said I have a second job, writing, but I don't get paid. If you read and enjoyed something that someone put a lot of work into, it's nice to take a few seconds and tell them that.

You don't owe authors comments. They also don't owe you free writing. Sometimes, you forget there is an author at all when you're reading. But there is. A real person put out a story hoping you'd love it, or connect to it. You'd see yourself in the writing and feel less alone, or cheered up when you have a bad day.

Writing is art, and all we want to do is connect with you. Comments help bridge that gap.

[m0nsterqzzz]

Capture the Flag

pairing: clarisse la rue x child of apollo!reader

summary: you hate capture the flag, and clarisse hates people hurting you. that's that.

warnings: kidnapping? *done by a bunch of demigod teenagers for the simple outcome of winning a game* mentions of murder because what is a clarisse fic without it? swearing? kinda oc clarisse just because I can't write anything else without turning it into enemies to lovers

a/n: she is my love. clarisse defender for life.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Clarisse La Rue.

The name sparks fear in many people at Camp Half Blood. Kids cower when she’s near, or run away when she walks towards them. It makes her happy, having people fear her. She thrives off of it, being a daughter of Ares; the god of war.

But too you? The name brings warmth, comfort, and love. It’s very rare her wrath has ever been directed towards you, and the few times it has been was when she didn’t know you. When you were just another camper to her.

It only took a few days at camp for you to be claimed by your father, Apollo. 

It made sense really, your bubbly and energetic personality was so similar to your fathers and his demi god childrens. You moved into cabin seven with your small backpack of beloved items from your past, picking the bed in the corner farthest away from the few other children of Apollo and spending most of your time in that spot if you weren't at arts and crafts or archery. Not many people cared about you at first, not that you mind while you were trying to process all that happened for you to finally get to this wilderness home. Then you tried to make some friends, which ended with you mostly spending your days with your siblings or the children of Hermes and the campers who lived in that cabin without being claimed.

Then, you met your girlfriend. The love of your life. You're everything. Clarisse.

She had protected you during a game of capture the flag, not realizing that your “attacker” was one of your best friends who simply held his sword up to you in a playful way. You teased her for weeks after that, giving her the title, “my protector”. Although the teasing eventually stopped, the nickname never did.

You’re her sunshine. That’s clear to everyone in camp, but nobody really talks about it for fear of being hurt by her spear.

Capture the flag is one of her favorite days out of the week. Other than every Tuesday when Chiron lets you eat dinner at her table- an agreement that came after a very long week of begging of course. That was his compromise to your ask of being able to spend every night at that table, and Clarisse wasn’t going to push it despite liking the first idea more. 

It became a lot harder to win said game when she started dating you, team red losing one of their best fighters when she would leave her post by the flag to roam the forest and make sure you are okay. It just makes you laugh when she stops kissing you up against a tree to suddenly run back to her post when she remembers the main task at hand, but her siblings and team would definitely disagree that it's funny.

Today's no different, and after threatening her teammate with her spear, she leaves her post to find you with the peace of mind that they’ll protect the flag and won’t tell on her to the other players on team red.

You on the other hand, you have your headphones in, music blasting in them as you dance through the forest and around the trees. Capture the flag has never really been as important to you as your teammates on the blue team, and both Annabeth and Luke eventually learned to give you a simple task and let you do your own thing. 

The nymph's join along in your activities every once in a while, but for the most part they just stay in their tree form as you dance past them.

You’re in your own world with your favorite song playing on your wired headphones that stay connected to the ipod in your hand that your girlfriend gifted to you after she came home from a quest a few months ago. It’s only when someone hits your helmet-covered head with the butt of their sword so hard you pass out that you realize you wandered into the red team's territory.

Waking up, the first thing you notice is the harsh light of the sun glaring down at you. Then it’s the rough feeling of wood on your back and the tight pull of rope on your stomach when you try and fail to stand up from your sitting poston. Your stomach churns as you realize what kind of situation you're in; no help, in a vulnerable position, and no weapon. Lastly, you groan when you realize that your headphones have been taken out of your ears and are laying in a tangled pile a few feet away along with your ipod.

After a few seconds, your vision clears up and the two blobs of color that you saw in front of you turn out to be two people. They’re clearing down at you from their standing positions, one with a sword out and the other holding a dagger.

“Good morning sunshine.” You cringe at the nickname that comes from one of the boys you now recognize from the Aphrodite cabin. It’s the one that your girlfriend uses for you. 

Children of Aphrodite may be well known for her being the goddess of love, and all things pink and pretty, but sometimes people forget she is also a goddess of war. Her demigod children are sweet and nice, but it’s no big surprise why Clarisse likes having them on her team when you see their fighting abilities when they actually try.

“What do you want with me?” You question harshly, trying but eventually giving up on trying to force the ropes to untie by moving your body around. You’re tied to a thin tree, thin enough for your arms to reach behind you and wrap around it- it's kind of like your giving the tree a backwards hug with your hands tied together around it- but not thin enough to break when you push you back up against it to test the theory on if you can snap it. 

They look at eachother and chuckle, putting their weapons away when they realize you can’t get out of your ties. One you recognize as Oliver steps closer to you as he says, “Annabeth and Luke care about you so much, the moment they realize that you’re missing, they’ll forget all about the flag and Clarisse can go get it.”

You stare at them blankly for a few seconds before you burst out laughing. They glance at each other before narrowing their eyes at you.

“What are you laughing at sunshine?” You finish laughing when the ropes pull on your stomach way too tightly with the way your body shakes with the laughter. “You ummm…” You start, taking a deep breath when you find yourself beginning to giggle again. “You thought the most amazing plan…was to lead my overprotective friends and girlfriend…the girl who carries a spear with her everywhere she goes and hurts anyone who looks at her wrong mind you…to the spot where she’ll find her partner tied up to a tree in a clearing where no one is around to stop her from killing you guys?”

They stare at you with a sudden look of fear in their eyes before they walk a few yards away to begin whispering to each other, the confidence from earlier gone and rethinking their plan after you brought the obvious ending to your attention.

“Hey guys?!” You shout out, smiling when they turn around for a second to face you. “Don’t worry. I’ll tell Clarisse not to kill you! She usually listens to me because the last time she killed someone, I didn’t cuddle her for a week!” Their eyes widen at your casualness, as if her killing someone is completely normal in your world before turning back around so you can’t see them panicking. It doesn’t matter though, the way they move their hands erratically and have to take deep breaths from raising their voices in fear is enough knowledge.

They come back a few minutes later, the fear still there as they stand in front of you. You don’t ask what plan they’ve come up with now, and they don’t tell you.

You guys sit in silence for a second before you glance at your earbuds and ask, “Do you guys like jazz tunes?” The boys stare at you with a confused expression.

“Um..…no. Why? Is that what you were listening to?”

“No. It’s just a conversation starter. The quiet was getting kinda awkward.”

The silence is back again, before you begin to quietly hum the tune of the song you were listening to before they interrupted your state of happiness. “So…..did you guys see my amazing dancing?”

Liam chuckles, eyes not meeting yours as he scans the forest around you guys and mumbles, “It wasn’t that good.” Oliver lets out a small hum of agreement. 

You scoff, eyes falling to your legs as you whisper under your breath, “Well damn. I’m definitely letting my girl kill you now.”

Suddenly, a few yards away, there is a loud scream that could make someone's ear eardrums bleed. It isn’t one of fear or sadness, but of anger. The boy’s eyes widen and they begin to spin in circles to try and keep track of the attacker as they pull out their weapons. You just smile.

The sound of someone running is what finally snaps them out of their panic enough to try running away, but she’s already there using the end of her spear to hit one's back so hard he falls forward and pulls the other one of one backwards and throws him on the ground by his armor. 

The first boy she pushes tries to get up and scurry away, but she simply places her foot on his back and presses so down with her boot with enough pressure he looks ready to cry. He really should be wearing armor. 

“Clar! Clar, it’s fine! I’m fine!” You shout when the fear starts to set in that she might actually hurt them, and she doesn’t even seem like she’s listening as she twists her spear in a circle and looks towards the other boy with a grin on her face that you know all too well. She’s going to kill them.

You begin to try and pry your hands out of the rope so hard it begins to shred your skin like paper in hopes of stopping her from doing something she’ll get in so much trouble for, and it’s only when you let out a small whimper of pain does Clarisse stop her actions. The grin falls from her face, and her foot releases the boy as she hurries over to you.

Both boys get up off the dirt, stumbling over their own feet as they begin to run back into the forest to hide from Clarisse. “You touch them again and I’ll kill you in ways even my father couldn’t imagine!” She screams over her shoulder in a terrifying voice, and the way she then turns to you with a sweet smile would be weird to anyone else. It only comforts you.

“I’m so sorry sunshine. I’m so sorry I let them hurt you.” She whispers as she uses the sharpest part of her spear to cut the ropes off. You sigh in relief, bringing them to your lap so you can gently caress them. There are red marks surrounding them, some of which you can already tell are going to bruise and one with a small cut on it from the rope and bark on the tree rubbing on your skin.

Your girlfriend looks guilty, so when she begins to spill even more apologizes you shut her up with a gentle kiss. “It’s okay Clar. I’m okay. It’s my fault. I wasn’t paying attention.” She shakes her head no and you watch with a small smile as she uses the most gentle touch you’ve ever felt to pick up your wrists and assess the injury.

“Really. I’m fine. It’s just some rope burn.” She hums in understanding, bringing them up to her lips one by one to place a feather light kiss on the red spots. “Better?” The curly haired girl asks with a small smile. 

“Much.” She nods, letting out one more apology before she picks you up bridal style and begins to walk back in the direction of camp. It’s only when you make it to the edge of the clearing and the cabins, mess hall, and big house come into view do you realize she’s not taking you back to your team's territory. 

When you go to ask where she’s taking you, but she just shh’s you and takes the trail to the infirmary. In the distance, the conch shell sounds, signaling the end of the game. It’s followed by the familiar cheers of your team, making you feel bad.

“I’m really sorry Clar. I could have walked myself. I’m so sorry” She just shakes her head, walking into the small building that only has about three Apollo children in it, the kids who don’t like to play capture the flag and volunteer to stay in the infirmary in case someone needs medical help. You know them, sending them all bright smiles and they do the same.

She sets you down on a gurney, a quick glare to the boy standing awkwardly a few feet away with a clipboard is all he needs to run over and begin gently cradling your arms to wrap your wrist’s. His name is Jamie, and he’s the quietest out of all of your siblings. Even with his silence, you know he’s an absolute sweetheart after nights spent painting with him or enjoy a walk in the sun together.

“Just take off the bandages to ice them every once and a while, and you should feel fine in a few days.” He mumbles before scurrying off to do something else, but in reality you know he’s just trying to get away from the girl who now stands at the edge of your bed like a guard. My protector.

You stand up, slowly walking towards her and wrapping your arms around the back of her neck. “You know, your siblings are beginning to despise me for being the reason you guys are losing.”

She shrugs, a small smile making its way onto her face. “Let them. They ever talk shit, you come to me. I’ll deal with it. Until then, they can despise you in silence. I’m just happy you’re okay sunshine.”

“Thanks to you. My protector.” With that she chuckles, leaning down to kiss you as your arms tighten around her.

“But I’m definitely getting Chiron to change the Apollo cabin to our team.”

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

[in-act-ive]

Yo can I request the Gallagher boys (not Liam) and Mickey headcanons if U do them (all separately) with a male reader who's more domimant and taller (sorry I can't spell) in the relationship like they also have to be the big spoon or whatever reader always pulls them in to his lap or something nothing sexual

Thank you if U can't do multiple characters can U do lip or Mickey

I'm real sick of the fics where the male reader it still feminine y'know

Have a nice day sorry for the long request

I had so many ides for this the moment you asked!

Request : yes

Type : headcanon

A / N : hope this is what you wanted!! Sorry it took so long btw, I got sick really fast and couldn't write!

Carl Gallagher

At first he's very confused by whats going on

After a few times he gets used to sitting in your lap and does it instinctively

Carl hates that you're taller in every way

He's probably a brat to you

He insists on getting stuff he can't reach even if you've offered to help

Carl is very independent and says he doesn't need your help

When he does need your help he's such a bitch about it

He does like having his scary dog privileges though to be honest

If he's about to go do shady shit he drags you along to scare anyone off who may try and fuck with him

When he's a police officer he insists on protecting you

Oh how the tables have turned

When you spoon him he definitely pulls your hands up to his chest so he can hold your hands

After a while he just lets you lay your hands wherever you'd like

He's comfy with whatever

Lip Gallagher

He won't admit it but he kinda likes that you're taller than he is

The first time he sits in your lap he's flustered as hell but continues to flirt with you

After a few times its still a little awkward but he won't admit it

He just insists on not doing it

He uses your height to his advantage

The moment he doesn't feel like reaching something he bothers you to grab it for him

He finds it hilarious that you are too tall for the Gallagher house

He likes to tease you when you hit your head on stuff or trip on something

His love language is most definitely teasing

When you both go out he kinda acts like you're not there

When he gets into fights you have to save him half the time

When he confronts bitches of men he almost always has you standing around incase it doesn't go his way

The moment you two cuddle and you spoon him he gets kinda pissed off

He'd much rather face you

He does feel protected in your arms but won't say that

Ian Gallagher

Ian is already the tallest Gallagher and is too tall for their house but having you around makes him jealous

He is confused when you pulled him into your lap

He's not opposed to the idea of sitting with you but he also really doesn't seem to know what to do with himself

Once he's used to it and knows a comfortable way to sit its one of his favorites

He won't admit it

He insists on getting everything himself no matter if you can reach it or not

He probably warns you before you run into a doorway cause he knows what its like

He hates PDA

Especially holding hands

Mainly because he hates feeling like the shorter guy in any relationship

Even if he is

The moment you spoon him he says something dumb

"No. No we're not doing this."

He wants to be the big spoon but you object to that idea

Finally you compromise on you both facing each other

Mickey Milkovich

He doesn't mind your height at all

Everyone is always taller than him anyways ao your height is just something about you

He thinks its attractive but obviously wont say his feelings

The moment you pulled him into your lap he immediately was fine with it

When he sat in your lap he sat like a king on his throne

Mickey gets so used to it and does it absentmindedly

He will push you into a chair just to sit in your lap no matter how busy you may be

When you guys go out of the house he loves having his "scary dog privileges"

He knows when it comes down to a fight he'd probably kick someones ass for you though

He loves when you hold him or touch him in public

Then he knows that your his and he's yours no matter what

Plus he finds it fucking hilarious when you have to tell people to go away cause you're together

When it comes to cuddling he loves when you spoon him

Its his favorite thing ever

When you don't he makes you no questions ask

Note: This was not spell checked nor grammer checked! I apologize in advance for the mistakes