#i need a tag for talking about my writing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

toadtoru · 3 days

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HOW TO INTERACT WITH WRITERS AND ARTISTS: A GUIDE

Hello! We all know that there is a steady decline in interactions and reblogs in fandom and I think a lot of new readers are very nervous to interact with artists on here. So as a somewhat seasoned Tumblr user, I figured I’d make a little guide for those who might feel they need it. :D

Disclaimer: This is by no means a rulebook or a demand. I am not forcing you to do any of these things. This is simply meant to be helpful towards those who might be new to the app or are nervous about interacting with people. Also: Since I write fanfiction, most of these examples are gonna be rooted in fanfiction. However, this can be applied to any other form of art on here as well!

FIRST OF ALL:

Customize your blog. A lot of people think blank blogs are bots. It doesn’t have to be a big thing but go on Pinterest, and find a cute profile pic. Choose a cool colour. Give your blog some personality.

It is completely fine and normal to want to remain anonymous on here. If you want you can choose a cool pseudonym (Alba is not my real name and I know for a fact that most of my mutuals’ “names” are pseudonyms.) but your blog can also just remain nameless.

If you are going to interact with NSFW fics and art I highly recommend putting your age in your bio. A lot of NSFW artists are not comfortable interacting with minors and ageless blogs and will block you if you don’t have your age somewhere.

It’s important to remember that writers and artists love interactions! We are here because we love a certain media and want to talk about it.

Secondly, Tumblr is not Instagram or TikTok. There are no “tumblr influencers”. Most of us are just normal people who do this as a hobby.

While it’s completely okay and normal to look up to someone or admire someone’s work, try not to put people on pedestals.

Lastly, fan fiction and art do not have a time limit. It doesn’t matter if it was posted yesterday, a year ago or ten years ago. It cannot expire. The love you feel for it now is just as valid as the love someone felt for it ten years ago. So please do not hesitate to interact with art just because it was posted a while ago.

THE BIG NO-NO’S:

“Part two?” It’s fair that you’re excited about a fic and want to read more, but simply just asking for part two without saying anything else can make a writer feel bad. We are not robots or content machines.

“X is stupid” “Your characterization is bad” “X wouldn’t do this” It’s okay to not like someone’s fic or art but commenting that it is bad or that you don’t agree is not okay. If you don’t like a fic you click off. If you don’t like someone’s takes or posts, you block them. You are responsible for curating your own online experience. Block what annoys you and move on.

Hate anons. I feel like I shouldn’t have to say this, but people still do it so I’m gonna say it anyway. Don’t send hate anon to people’s inboxes.

Don’t demand things. “When is the next part coming out?” “You promised you’d post” etc. Life happens. Most of us have school or jobs or both.

Use Character AI, Chatbot, etc. Do not use AI. Do not put other people’s art into AI machines without their permission or knowledge. AI steals people’s writing and art. Do not use it to finish unfinished fics for you, do not use it to get a part two, do not use it.

Do not repost* art without permission. Do not repost art on other platforms. Do not post people’s fics on Wattpad or other platforms without permission. Do not post artists’ art on Pinterest or TikTok without permission. Do not translate writers’ fics without permission.

*Note: reposts and reblogs are not the same. A reblog is when you press the 🔁 button at the bottom of a post. This is encouraged. Reposts are when you make your own post with the stolen art.

SO WHAT CAN YOU DO?

Reblogs. Reblogs, reblogs, reblogs. Reblogs. I cannot stress this enough. Tumblr’ algorithm sucks and sometimes posts don’t show up in tags. When you reblog someone's art you help more people see it!

Also, reblogs do not only help the artist but it also helps you! You can create a tag system on your account so you easily can find works you liked again. It’s much easier to find reblogged works than it is to go through your 300 liked posts. (Also if an artist deactivates you will still have the post instead of it disappearing.)

Comment on people’s art! Tell them what you liked! I promise you it will make their day!

Ask questions! Did you notice a specific choice the artist made that you found interesting? Is there something that intrigued you or you want to know more about?

BUT I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO SAY?

It’s important to remember that your support does not have to be some profound intellectual conversation. This is Tumblr, we’re all just having fun.

“I loved this!” “Your writing is amazing!” “This art is so pretty!” “The way you draw/characterize X character is cool!”

What did the art make you feel? “This made me happy” “This made me sad” Your emotions about the piece do not have to be positive. If someone wrote a 6k fic about the SatoSugu breakup then their goal probably wasn’t to make you feel joyous. Tell them how you feel! It will make them happy to know that their art evoked emotions in you.

Predictions! Did you catch some foreshadowing? What do you think happens in the next chapter? It's super fun as a writer to read what people think is going to happen!

Okay, folks. I think that’s all I have for you. Remember that we’re all just here to have fun. We want to interact with you. Reblog and comment on the fics you like! Send your thoughts to people’s inboxes! Once you get over that initial fear, I promise you, it becomes so much more fun. Fandom is supposed to be fun.

#how do i tag this #uhhh #fanfiction #writers on tumblr #fandom #writing #writing community #???#idk man #i hope this helps someone #:D #i love you

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mermaidgirl30 · 2 days

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✨Saddle Me Up, Cowboy Part 1: Spin Me Around the Dance Floor✨

Cowboy! Joel Miller x fem! reader

Series Masterlist

A/N: Thank you to @alltheirdamn for encouraging me to write this! Beth Dutton and Rip Wheeler from Yellowstone heavily inspired this short little series. I hope you enjoy 🩷

Chapter Summary: You were only trying to enjoy your drink and watch the different couples spin around the dance floor at your favorite country club, but all that changed when you set your eyes on a certain handsome brown-eyed cowboy.

Rating: 18+ only

Word Count: 4.6k

Tags: Lots of fluff, flirting, pining, two stepping, meet cute at a country western bar, no use y/n, no outbreak au, switching POVs, soft! Joel, summer love, reader has hair

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The neon lights flash across the busy dance floor as bodies sway back and forth to the slow country tune. Smoke permeates through the air as couples hold each other close and the men spin their lovers around the wooden floor. You love two stepping, love the rustic feel of the bar, love the feel of your jean shorts and fitted cowboy boots. You just love being here on a Friday night in your favorite country bar called Cowboys.

You stir the straw slowly around in your mixed drink, your elbow leaning against the side of the dance floor, toes tapping on the bottom of the barstool. And as you watch the happy couples spin across the floor, you can’t help but wish that was you out there.

When was the last time you came here with a date? Maybe two years.

Sure, you’ve been asked to dance. Took a twirl around the room twice with some nice blonde guy that talked about his job and dogs. But it was just friendly and casual. Just a way to spin around the dance floor a couple of times. It wasn’t a perfect match with your cowboy lover. That’s someone you haven’t met yet.

Tonight, maybe you’d find someone. The one. A girl can dream, and that’s exactly what you do. Dream.

Another two songs fly by as you sip your fruity drink, watching couples come and go on and off the dance floor. A slow Morgan Wallen song floats through the packed room, your eyes roam around the bar, falling on the far right corner. Just when a couple spins out of the way, it clears your view to the opposite side of the dance floor. And oh my God, your heart drops out of your chest.

You nearly choke on the fruity liquid, your jaw dropping straight to the floor. There, right across the room, stands the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen in your entire life.

He’s tall, well over six foot. His green button-up flannel clings to strong biceps, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing thick veins that spider down into massive hands. His hair is dark and sandy, silver threaded through his tousled curls and burrowing into the thick beard against his sculpted jawline. He’s tan, dark from working out in the sun, you think. And his eyes look like the color of chocolate almonds from what you can tell under the dim lights. And his smile. Jesus, it could light up an entire room.

Soft. He looks so soft the way he holds the flute of his beer bottle, the way his eyes light up every time he laughs with his friends. And God, you’d kill to see him smile at you like that.

You keep your gaze on him, staring like a child in a candy store, eyeing the last Hershey’s bar on the shelf. And it’s like your first school crush all over. You need to get a hold of yourself, but you just can’t. He’s too tempting, too smoldering, too perfect.

And in the next moment, his eyes are on you.

—

Sweat beads Joel’s forehead as he takes another swig of his beer, a chuckle leaving his lips as Tommy teases Maria and pulls her to his chest. She just laughs and kisses him on the cheek as he wraps her in his leather jacket. Joel wishes he had someone like that. Someone to love as much as Tommy loves her. Maybe someday he would.

“You gonna ask anyone to dance?” Tommy asks, his brown eyes trained on Joel.

“Eventually,” Joel mutters, sighing as he takes another generous sip of the strong alcohol.

“Better before the end of the night,” Tommy laughs, pulling Maria by the hand to the dance floor. Before Tommy turns away, he gives a brotherly shove to Joel’s shoulder and winks. “Pretty girl at twelve o’clock, straight across the room. Go get her, Joel.”

Just as Tommy leaves him with a confused expression, he looks up and freezes the minute he spots you. He gulps and sets his beer on the table, his fingers curling into the wooden tabletop, eyes wide when your eyes meet his.

Big, glittering, beautiful eyes swallow him whole, the swirling lights making them glow even brighter. He catches his breath and has it knocked right back out of his chest again as a shy smile curls against your glossy red lips. He thinks he just fell in love.

Your pretty hair falls in long waves down your shoulders; your low-cut tank top sticking to your sun kissed skin shining under the bright spotlight. It’s like an angel sits before him, and he’s mesmerized. Your tight denim shorts hug your curves, and your tan boots with embroidered butterflies scuff against the barstool. Your pretty eyes flick down to your drink and back up to him repeatedly, sweetly beckoning to him to come ask you to dance.

Shy, sweet, adorable, beautiful. He picks all this out just by looking at your pretty face. And you’re just his type of girl; he already knows it. He thinks you were made just for him to find tonight.

It goes on like clockwork for the next few songs. Shy smiles, locked eyes, hesitation permeating through the thick, smoky air. But he won’t hesitate for long. No. He wants to know you, to dance with you, to take you out, maybe show you his ranch.

He just has to have you. And he will. You’ll be his by the end of the night.

After an encouraging slap on the back from Tommy, he takes one more glance your way and hands his tan cowboy hat to Tommy. Right now he only has one task at hand, and that is to ask the pretty girl to dance. So, he swallows all his nerves and walks across the room, right through the sea of endless bodies.

Right to you.

—

Your cheeks burn hot as you lock eyes again; a flirtatious game you’ve been playing for the past two songs. You practically feel on fire with the way your body reacts every time he looks at you.

Maybe he’ll ask you to dance. You hope he does because you have a feeling being in those big, strong arms would be like jumping into a freshly made bed after a long day at work. Warm and cozy and made just for you.

You bite your bottom lip and laugh as your head drops to the scuffed-up wood, a loose curl falling over your shoulder. How can you already like someone this much when you don’t even know them? Sounds pretty silly, but it gives you tingles in your feet just the same.

This is a good sign.

When you look back up, your heart drops to the floor when you don’t see the handsome man standing across the room anymore. You slide further down in your chair and sigh, letting all the hope fizzle out of your tired body.

He left. You just wanted one dance. That’s all you wanted. One fucking dance.

You sigh quietly and look back out at the spinning bodies on the dance floor, shaking off the growing tears in your eyes. Just when you think one might drop, your body freezes when you hear a husky, deep voice being cleared next to you. When you turn to look at who just interrupted your sulking session, you nearly fall off the barstool.

It’s him. The man with the pretty brown eyes.

“Hi.” His deep voice floats through your ears like a dream, and the music seems to disappear altogether.

“Uhh—hi,” you stammer out, your mouth agape as you watch a small smile curl against his inviting lips.

“‘M sorry if this comes off as rude. But what’s a girl like you doin’ sittin’ on the sidelines, darlin’?” His thick Southern accent drawls out, and your eyes immediately widen when you hear how deep and staccato it sounds. You think you could listen to it all night long.

Darlin’. He called you darlin’.

Your words fail you, so you just brush off his apology and smile. “Can’t a girl enjoy a drink?”

He chuckles and shakes his head, a tousled curl falling into his forehead. You want to brush it back for him. That soft looking sandy hair. “Well, sure ya can. Didn’t answer why you’re sittin’ over here by yourself, though.”

“My friends are dancing,” you shrug, spinning your straw nervously in your drink, letting the liquid slosh around the sides.

“Now how come a pretty thing like you ain’t out there with ‘em? Hmm?” His thick eyebrows raise in question, and another dreamy smile meets his face.

God, he’s so handsome.

“Oh, I dunno. Was just watching,” you answer nonchalantly, not pointing out the fact that they’re all taken and you’re not.

He hums to himself, his eyes flicking to the dance floor and back to you after a few seconds. “You wanna dance?” he asks softly, his chocolate eyes sparkling in the hope that you’ll say yes.

“Huh?” you say off guard, your eyes wide at the question.

He just asked you to dance.

“Do you wanna dance with me?” he asks again, nudging the side of your boot with his own worn leather boot.

“You’re asking me to dance?” you question.

“Ain’t that what I asked?” he chuckles, causing your stomach to somersault with the way his infectious laugh is making you feel. All warm and tingly.

“Oh. I umm—okay,” you smile shyly, looking up through your long eyelashes at him.

“Is that a yes, darlin’?” he asks with a big smile.

“Yes, I’d love to,” you confirm with a nod.

“Well, c’mon then.” He holds out his open palm, and you don’t hesitate to take it.

Warm. He’s so warm. Rough, calloused hands that hold yours perfectly. A match made in heaven.

He leads you to the middle of the dance floor, careful not to get in the way of any other couples. And then he slowly slips a hand around your waist, the other securely latched to your hand, his fingers laced through yours. And when he starts to lead the dance, you follow right after him.

The bright lights land over him, putting his beautiful eyes right on display for you. Your breath catches when you see how soft his eyes are. Dark brown like the color of honey and onyx flecks swirling in his irises that hypnotize you to him. He’s absolutely beautiful. You’ve never seen eyes as pretty as his; ones that draw you right in. And the way he’s looking at you, all soft and like he’s looking at the most beautiful girl in the world makes your knees a little wobbly.

The neon signs on the walls glow in the distance, the melodic tune of a Scotty McCreery song floats in the background while couples dance around you. Joel leads you around the dance floor, holding you tight and never once stepping on your feet.

You scuff your boot over his toes out of nervousness, but he doesn’t say anything about it. He just chuckles and pulls you closer to where you can feel his steady heartbeat against your chest, his brown eyes staring into yours like he’s enamored by you. But he’s got your full attention, and you’re so into him already.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” he asks, his Southern drawl completely melting you at the sweet sound. You tell him yours and when your name slips off his tongue, you nearly fall to your knees in awe.

“And yours? What’s yours, Cowboy?” you ask over the loud couple that whips around you.

“Cowboy, huh? Already got a nickname for me, sweetheart?” he chuckles, eyes lighting up at the nickname like he wants you to say it again. And maybe you will.

“Maybe so,” you giggle, relaxing into the dance as he spins you around in circles, the lights following your movements.

“The name’s Joel. Joel Miller.” He tips his head and gives you a big smile. You can’t help but giggle every time he smiles at you. It’s like you’re in first grade all over, and Joel’s the new, cute boy that’s caught your attention in class.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Joel.”

“Pleasure’s all mine, sweetheart,” he smiles, keeping you close to his warm body. You let out another nervous giggle, and it just makes him smile wider like he’s addicted to your laugh.

“I like your laugh, darlin’. Could listen to it all night,” he sighs dreamily, chocolate eyes melting as he looks intensely at you, honing in on just you while the rest of the room disappears. Your breath hitches for just a second, and then you melt right back into him.

“Well, I like your brown eyes,” you lull, your eyes locked on his pretty pools of honey. You giggle when he blushes, and then a dimple indents into his left cheek when he smiles. And God, you think you just fell in love.

“And your smile. I love your pretty smile. It lights up a room, darlin’. And you lit up the whole damn bar tonight,” he drawls, his warm breath fanning over your open mouth, gawking at this handsome gentleman.

He’s fucking perfect.

He lifts his arm and spins you around in a complete circle, his large hand finding your hip again and pulling you back into his broad chest. And there you are, completely breathless again.

“So, Cowboy. What made you want to come ask me to dance?” you ask, curiosity circling in your wide eyes.

“Saw you from across the room, and I couldn’t keep my eyes off you,” he answers honestly with the ghost of a smile on his lips.

“Me?” you ask, taken aback.

“Yes, you,” he chuckles as he guides you across the polished dance floor.

“There’s a hundred other girls in here who’ve had their eyes on you all night,” you scoff in a playful way.

“Oh? Is that so?” An eyebrow lifts in piqued interest, but his eyes still don’t leave yours. They stay glued to you.

“Mhm,” you hum in confirmation.

“That means you’ve been watchin’ me too, ain’t that right?” he smirks devilishly, his brown eyes darkening just slightly.

“No I—no. That’s not…” you stutter, at a loss for words. You were watching him. Ever since you saw him across the room; that damn smile that has your head spinning.

“S’alright, sweetheart. Wasn’t tryin’ to get you all flustered now,” he chuckles, obviously trying to get you flustered. He doesn’t have to try hard because you’re already overly flustered.

“I’m not flustered,” you scoff, your cheeks burning hotter with every second his chocolate eyes are on you.

“No? Well, you’re pretty cute when you’re blushin’, darlin’. Maybe I want you flustered,” he grins, a beautiful smile curling against his plush lips.

“Careful, Cowboy. You might be the one blushing next,” you tease, narrowing your eyes playfully in response.

“I’d like to see you try, sweetheart,” he challenges, his eyes growing into a soft syrupy color you want to drown in.

“Maybe I will, brown eyes,” you say with the flash of a smile.

“Brown eyes, huh? Kinda like the sound of that.” His pretty eyes are genuine when he says it, like it’s the best thing you’ve said this whole dance. And the pink that marinates around his dark scruff tells you enough. He does like it.

You smirk in knowing and wink playfully his way, creating a deeper blush on his tanned skin. It makes your heart skip a beat. “Good, now you’re the one blushing.”

He shakes his tousled curls and sighs, his eyes alight with an enamored glow. “Christ, you’re adorable.”

“If you say so, Cowboy,” you say, letting him continue the dance even though there’s a new song booming from the overhead speakers.

He wraps his large hand tighter against your waist, and you let his other gently glide up and down the back of your hand. A caress that’s laced with care.

“I do say so, sweetheart,” he chuckles warmly. “But you wanna know the real reason why I asked you to dance?”

You keep your eyes trained on the glow of his and squint carefully. “Tell me.”

He takes a deep breath and smiles shyly. “The reason I asked you is ‘cause I thought you were the prettiest girl in the room.”

Your mouth gawks open in shock. He thinks you’re the prettiest girl in the room? Wow. “Me? Are you sure you picked the right girl?”

“Yes, you,” he nods, his thumb stroking against your soft skin. An affirmation of what? Care, admiration, love?

“You think I’m… pretty?” you ask hesitantly, your voice quiet and meek. He can’t think you’re the prettiest girl. There’s no way.

“Mhm. Gorgeous. And your eyes. Absolutely beautiful, sweetheart. They make the lights in here look dim with how bright yours shine.”

You stare in amazement at him, eyes as wide as an owl’s gawking at the man with pretty brown eyes who swept you off your feet. You’re falling into places you’ve never been, and you’re quite scared of how many feelings are bubbling up inside you already. But at this moment, you don’t care. All you can do is stare at him affectionately as he spins you around the room.

He’s perfect.

“So, what does a pretty girl like you do for work, sweetheart?” he asks, molton brown eyes glazing into yours, making you audibly gasp how pretty they are.

“I’m a vet assistant.”

“Vet assistant, huh? You ever work on cattle, by chance?” His wide brown eyes are full of hope, and a smile tugs at his lips.

“Unfortunately no. Just dogs and cats mostly. Why? You got some cattle, Cowboy?” Your eyebrow arches, and a mischievous smirk curls over your mouth.

He chuckles and nods his head. “As a matter of fact, I do. I own a ranch,” he says proudly, standing a little taller, making your face hurt from smiling so damn much at him.

“So you are a Cowboy. I knew it,” you giggle. “What kind of animals do you have?”

“Tons,” he says, the neon lights glowing over his tousled curls. “Horses, cows, bulls, chickens, sheep, dogs, and the list goes on.”

“My, my. You got your hands full. Don’t you, Cowboy?” you blush, fluttering your eyelashes flirtatiously up at him. You like him even more now.

“Reckon I do,” he chuckles, his thumb tracing light circles against the back of your hand, eliciting goosebumps down your arms.

“Too full to handle one more thing?” you question, giving him your best puppy dog eyes that you can manage.

He shakes his head and smiles warmly. “If that one thing is you then ‘course not. Got all the room for you, darlin’.”

Your eyes soften into liquid and your head is spinning as you stare at this beautiful man. You’re already falling head over heels, and you think he is too.

“You ever ride a horse before?” he asks, tilting his head like he’s assessing you.

You shake your head in response. “I mean, when I was little I rode on a pony. But a horse? No. Can’t say that I have.”

“You wanna learn? Got a stallion back at home that has your name on the saddle.” His smile is breathtaking, just like his honey-colored eyes. Your heart gallops in your chest like hooves pounding on the ground. He wants to teach you how to ride?

“You really plan on teaching me?” Your eyebrows pinch together, hesitation stuck on your tongue.

He nods, a fleeting smile meeting his beautiful eyes. “Consider it our first date, darlin’. Gonna turn you into a little cowgirl.”

“Oh, a cowgirl, huh? Is that what I’m going to be?” you giggle flirtatiously, and he picks right back up on it as he winks at you.

“S’right. My cowgirl.”

My cowgirl.

Your heart gets stuck in your throat, words lodged deep inside. So you do what you can do. Smile and trace your fingertips across his broad shoulder, letting the soft flannel graze against your smooth skin.

As the song slows to a halt, you find the opportunity to wrap both of your arms tightly around his neck, nuzzling your face into the soft fabric of his flannel. His arms circle your hips, and one hand gently runs up and down your lower back, sending electricity zapping through your nerve endings.

You smell him now. His woodsy cologne, the hint of sweet beer on the tip of his tongue, faint scents of smoke on his collar, the scent of leather in the air. He smells like your favorite scent all mixed together, combined into the perfect formula to get you drunk off him. And you’d gladly get drunk off him.

“Lady May” by Tyler Childers plays through the speakers; the slow song sending the mood of the bar into a romantic, all consuming type of way. Love’s permeating through the air, and you can feel it everywhere. It tingles in your toes, brushes like a breeze through your hair, spirals down the back of your spine, floods your heart with warmth you’ve never felt before, makes your eyes sparkle like starlight through the bright lights, landing right in the palm of Joel.

Put your toes down in the water. And a smile across your face. And tell me that you love me. Lovely Lady May.

He pulls you closer, where your chin is tucked against the crook of his neck, his woodsy cologne making you feel a bit dizzy.

Now I ain’t the sharpest chisel that your hands have ever held. But, darling, I could love you well.

Lovely lady May.

His lips brush over the crown of your head, his fingertips lighting your nerve endings on complete fire, sparks igniting in his caramel eyes. The way he’s looking at you makes you think he’s already in love with you. And maybe you’ve already fallen in love with him, too.

As the music slows, he dips you low, not daring to let your back touch the scuffed-up wood. When he pulls you back up, he brings you flush to his broad chest, and his scent is everywhere.

His brown eyes sparkle like glitter, shooting stars that only you can make a wish on in the clear night sky. And his smile. My God, you’ve never seen anything as beautiful as him before.

He gently brushes a loose curl behind your ear, lingering his calloused fingertips down your jawline, ending right under your chin where he stills. The room melts away, the noisy crowd disappearing as the song completely takes a hold of you.

But I’m baptized in your name. Lovely Lady May.

His thumb slowly traces your bottom lip, leaving invisible marks that’ll stick like permanent ink, branding you as his own. The way he’s staring at you all soft and deeply makes you melt into him even more.

One more trace, one more shy smile, and he’s asking. “Darlin’?”

“Yes?” you ask breathlessly.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, his Southern drawl sounding lovestruck and angelic. “And thank you for allowin’ me to dance with the prettiest girl in the room. But there’s jus’ one more thing I’d like to do.” His mouth drops a little lower, and your breath hitches.

“And what’s that?” you ask, lilting at his soft smile.

“I’d really like to kiss you…” he breathes, his deep timbre shaky as his brown eyes melt into you.

You lean up on your tiptoes, blowing your breath over his open lips. “Then kiss me, Cowboy…” you whisper out.

He cups your face the next second and leans in, crashing his lips down on yours without any hesitation. And he draws you in like a moth to a flame.

His lips are soft like velvet, and he tastes like your new favorite flavor. Blue moon, sweet and savory with a hint of smoke and mint marinating on his tongue.

And then your lips become his as you fall like rain into his kiss.

Mint. Blue Moon. Smoke. Velvet. Cedar Wood. Leather.

He’s all you know now.

You stay like that for minutes, connected like webs to each other in the middle of the dance floor as couples swirl in a colorful blur around you. When the two of you finally disconnect from each other’s lips, a big smile curls against his mouth and his pretty brown eyes look like they’re laced with love the longer he looks at you.

He brushes his thumb against your lower lip and leans in close, his lips tracing the shell of your ear. “You taste like mine, darlin’.”

And that’s when you fall head over heels for the Cowboy that snatched your heart and made you his own.

He pulls you in for another dance, and you let him lead you through another song which turns into another and another and another. You lose count. All you know is that you’d dance all night with him if you could.

After over an hour of twirling around the dance floor with him, he buys you a drink and leads you over to two barstools. You end up with your legs sprawled over his lap, his fingertips tracing lines over your thighs, his lips brushing over your cheek while he places his cowboy hat on top of your head, claiming you as his own.

You end up meeting Joel’s brother, Tommy, and his wife, Maria. And you spend all night laughing and flirting with Joel while you bond over music and shared interests. Turns out you have a lot in common.

It’s the way his smile stops your heart and his brown eyes that send your head spinning. It’s the way he calls you his girl and the way he can’t keep his hands off you for even a second. You’ve never been this wrapped up in a guy before, but you’ve never met a handsome gentleman like Joel. A cowboy that won your heart over the second he looked at you.

He ends the night by driving you home, walking you up to your door, pulling you against his broad chest as his thumb traces lightly against your skin affectionately. You don’t want to say goodnight.

“So, pretty girl. How ’bout I pick you up at 4:00 o’clock tomorrow? Can give you your first ridin’ lesson, maybe watch the sunset from the back of my truck. Can tell you how beautiful you look under the stars,” he drawls, his brown eyes sparkling under the moonlight.

He has you reeled in, pulling you in like he just lassoed his way into your heart.

“Quite the romantic type. Aren’t you, Cowboy?” you blush, lacing your fingers through his tousled curls.

“That I am,” he chuckles, wrapping his arms around your waist as he pulls you tighter against him. “So, what do ya say, Cowgirl? You gonna let me take you on that date?”

“Pick me up at 4:00, and I’m all yours.”

“All mine?” he smiles, his warm breath fanning over your lips.

“All yours,” you confirm.

He pulls you in for a slow, romantic kiss, letting it linger as the stars twinkle above your porch. You’re never going to get tired of his kisses, his soft Southern drawl, his big brown eyes. You’re only going to grow more in love with him every day. And you’ll let it grow like a wildfire that consumes you whole.

This was only the beginning. The beginning of a perfect summer love that would never fade away.

Tags for those that were interested: @mountainsandmayhem @alltheirdamn @lotusbxtch @almostfoxglove @burntheedges

@jasminedragoon @inept-the-magnificent @magpiepills @almostempty @aurorawritestoescape

@milla-frenchy @pedrospatch @thundermartini @lanaispunk @sawymredfox @ace-turned-confused

@stylesispunk @there1snothingleft4u @littlevenicebitch69 @tuquoquebrute @ajw-23

#joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #Cowboy!Joel #joel miller fic #cowboy #no use of y/n #no outbreak au #joel miller fluff

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pleasantlycrazyworld · 2 days

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This is another music inspired fic! Logan is obsessed with the reader once more. Request are open! I kind of want to try to write for worst! Logan so please send ideas <3 If you enjoy my work please like, comment, and reblog it really helps me stay motivated

There was something about him you just couldn't explain. Something just drew you into him even though everyone tells you not to get too close. Some called him the devil in disguise, you just called him Logan after you finally learned his name. You are completely under his spell, but you don't regret it.

You tried to avoid him, to avoid the mysterious devil but the more you avoided the more you wanted to know him. Finally, you were cornered by him one night and that's when you noticed his eyes. Somethings about them just called to you, they held so much in them, and you needed to know what he was hiding, what he has experienced, you needed him to let you in.

Logan was obsessed with you from the moment he saw you, he made you a promise the night he cornered you; "If you let me inside, I won't hold back, I don't care how many times it takes to get through to you, you will be mine." A shiver ran down your spine as the words echoed through your ears, you could tell Logan was a man of his word.

Darkness always seemed to follow him, even when he was younger darkness had a way of just creeping in and surrounding him until it became his home, it became his comfort.

That was something you learned quickly after meeting him. There's a darkness within him, you could feel it in his touch. You knew you should get away but the more you talked to him and the more you felt his lips burn into your skin you had to admit defeat and accept that you wanted him too much.

He had a way of taking your breath, you never put up much of a fight but if he came to you and asked to rip open your chest you would let him take whatever was left in there that he hadn't already stolen. You were completely under his spell, but you didn't regret any of it.

The people around you were worried for you. Anyone could see how obsessive you were towards Logan, and they could see how possessive he was over you. They wanted to try and take you away from him, "When you're with him it's like you're possessed by something strong, something dark. I'm worried for you." Your friends tried to convince you to leave, to move but it was too late. Maybe you were possessed by something strong, maybe it was his angel eyes that had such a hold on you, maybe it was his darkness possessing you too but whatever it was, you couldn't just leave.

When Logan found out people were trying to take you away from him, the darkness from within escapes him faster than he could stop it. You came home and he could tell something was wrong "Darlin' what happened?" You knew better than to lie, knew he would figure it out, so you told him everything they asked of you. Logan never liked your friends; always thought they were nosey. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close to him "Darling what we have is a force that not even God can stop, they just need to know you're fucking mine." He kissed your head and as you started to calm down from your emotionally exhausting day, he started to plan what he should do about the people that now needed to be removed from your life.

You were his and he refused to let anyone take what was his.

Tagging:

@userchai

@mahi-tamashi

@100percentlazybonez

@lanassmarty

@western-pyro

@misscrissfemmefatale

@marit332

@navs-bhat

@fluffy-b33z

@with-ears-to-see-eyes-to-hear

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justwinginglife · 2 days

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The Strongest Weakness

Alright guys, it's started; I told yall I would be posting fics based off of Keshi's new album. Here is my fic based off of "Soft Spot," which imo is so Gen Narumi coded. Also since it is a Gen fic, go into this with LOW LOW LOW expectations, you know I could talk about Soshiro's character analysis all day but it takes me the same amount of time just to write a couple paragraphs for Narumi. Ignore me.

Gen was the strongest for a reason.

He was merciless, he was relentless, he was pure power, he was raw talent, he was an immovable and unstoppable force of nature, he was the foundation for any stable future that Japan could ever hope to have. It didn’t matter that he was reckless, it didn’t matter that he was abrasive- in the face of power, prudence and propriety were irrelevant.

And it quickly became common knowledge that Captain Gen Narumi of the 1st Division was the strongest.

So then why did he feel so weak whenever he was around you?

Why did he feel so frail? Like he’d crumble if you diverted your attention from him for a second. Like he’d wilt if you didn’t call his name. Like your smile was the only thing keeping him from the verge of collapse and ruin. He needed you to get through the day, and he never needed anything. It scared him to need you. To want you. To dream of you. To long for you. To obsess over you. To be robbed of his oxygen when you weren’t near him. To be robbed of his sleep, of his sanity. To have every cell in his body intoxicated by you, addicted to you, enamored with you. Why was he so weak, and yet he’d never felt stronger than when you were by his side? He’d always been so sure of himself; he didn’t need anyone to tell him who he was or who he could be. But the version of himself that he was around you, he almost didn’t recognize.

He never went out with his officers; he was always perfectly content to stay at home, with nothing more than NPCs to keep him company. But he suddenly found himself intently listening to chatter in the hallways, craning to hear gossip in the stairwells, trying to see if you were going to karaoke tonight. If you were going to the bar tomorrow. If you were going to the club next week. And then he found himself tagging along, just for the chance that you’d sit next to him in the booth, just for the chance to buy you a drink, just for the chance to dance with you. He hated dancing. But he didn’t hate the idea of being close to you, of feeling your hips under his hands, of feeling your sweat mingle with his, of feeling the beat of his heart match rhythm to the beat of yours. So he danced with you. Until his feet almost bled, until his legs almost collapsed, until he was properly drunk on your presence, and even when the club closed, he procured a stereo so he could continue to dance with you outside.

He wasn’t used to going out of his way for someone like this. He wasn’t used to feeling anything for someone like this. But there you were- living proof of his ability to love someone. He couldn’t deny it if he tried.

When you waited hours for him to finish training just to present him with rice balls and water, he knew he was in love with you.

When you secretly slipped a copy of the game he’d been eying for ages under his door and you thought he wouldn’t recognize the pitter patter of your footsteps as you scurried away, he knew he was in love with you.

When he lost another competition to Hoshina, and you sat with him through his sulking, when you told him you were always Team Narumi from day one, he knew he was in love with you.

When he was anxious, when he was afraid, when he was insecure, when he was overwhelmed, when he was everything that a Captain shouldn’t be, and you made every effort to make sure some part of you was always touching him, your knee against his knee, your shoulder up against his shoulder, to remind him you were there, to remind him you supported him, without alerting the rest of the squadron what only you had noticed, he knew he was in love and would always be in love with you and only you.

Gen always thought that he only deserved what he could produce. He was strong because he trained and he was the Captain because he was strong. But you loved him before he ever knew how to love you. You loved him before he was ever somebody, because he was only somebody when he was yours. You loved him despite him being everything you weren’t. Despite his rough exterior, despite his ill manners, his impatience, his ignorance, his arrogance, you still loved him. You, with your kind nature, with your sweet smile, with your endless patience, with your gentle touch, with your infinite optimism, you still loved him. And he didn’t deserve you but he’d never stop trying to.

When he finally asked you out, he half hoped you would say no. He hoped your standards weren’t so low that you’d settle for the mess of a man that he was. He hoped he could come back as a better man one day, as one that was worthy of you. But for now, he was still impatient, he was still selfish, and he couldn’t continue to dream about you, to wish for you, to hope for you, to desire you, without ever uttering a word about it. He wasn’t exactly sure what words to say -he was never good with words- and he was sure you could tell how he felt without him ever saying a thing, but you deserved more than longing glances and intentions whispered into the abyss. If anyone was going to make him confess to feelings he’d long thought were impossible, feelings he’d long deemed himself incapable of, it would be you.

And if anyone was going to accept him the way he was, if anyone was going to love him regardless of his faults, if anyone was going to give the orphan in him a home, it would be you.

And you did.

You said yes.

If he thought he loved you before, he loved you infinitely more now. He loved the way you’d massage his shoulders and kiss the top of his head while he was working. He loved the way you’d leave him little love notes in his lunchbox. He loved the way you’d lay your head in his lap while he gamed. He loved the way you’d bury yourself into his chest while you slept.

And he never stopped showing you all the ways he loved you too. Even if he didn’t say it all the time, his love was still there, vibrant and pure, in every kiss he pressed to your skin, in every gaze he bestowed upon you lovingly. In the way he always checked to make sure your suit was fully functioning before you headed off to battle. In the way he started to play farming games with you because you didn’t like fighting games. In the way he switched which side of the bed he slept on after an entire lifetime of sleeping on the same side, just because you didn’t like the side by the closet door. He didn’t need words when he had intentions.

Once, he took a two hour drive to pick up food from your favorite restaurant because he knew you were craving it, and when he dragged his exhausted, carsick, love drunk ass back onto base, your food in hand, his fellow officers teased him for being wrapped around your finger. He grumbled at them but he couldn’t deny it.

It was common knowledge that Captain Gen Narumi of the 1st Division was the strongest.

It was equally common knowledge that you were his weakness.

#kaiju no. 8 #anime #oneshot #anime fanfic #fluff #gen narumi x reader #narumi gen #gen narumi #narumi x reader

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chosos-lesbo · 2 days

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i was gonna peruse around the jjk smau tag, read a few, but i encountered a post talking about dark content and how prevalent it is. while it is not my duty to speak about this, i felt like i might have some insight on this??

anyways, this is an argument that’s been had by different fandoms over the years. i’ve honestly actively participated in some of them lol. and one thing i will remain firm on is that i don’t believe it is appropriate to age up minor characters.

but at the end of the day, what everyone is reading and writing about is fictional. if you don’t want to see certain things depicted, FILTER THOSE TAGS!! it is effective for more than just avoiding spoilers. (i know the filtering system isn’t foolproof. i.e. i block content relating to pregnancy bc it makes me uncomfortable, but sometimes i still encounter it)

however, when you ask people to use this method to avoid these kinds of fics, it is just as important that CREATORS TAG ACCORDINGLY AND MAKE PROPER WARNINGS!

!!disclaimer!!: while i am saying all of this, i do not agree with any forms of ped0ph!lia, and i am absolutely NOT condoning the works that have it

at the end of the day, even though i don’t read dark content, that doesn’t mean i get to stop anyone else from reading what they want. and if you’re like myself, block the tags you don’t want to see. WE ALL NEED TO WORK ON OUR TAG ETIQUETTE!!

also, if you feel the need to send hate, don’t think i will not troll you :))

#jjk smau #tag etiquette #discourse #(notice me tagging what applies)

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sixerstanley · 1 day

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i’ve been thinking about fujoshi bill being best friends with fujo mabel all day. it’s just so perfect, the embodiment of chaos being best friends with the coolest teenage girl and a hardcore fujo both gossiping. non-stop talking every night about how badly stan and ford want each other and it’s hilarious if bill changes his demeanor because of good doujinshis that mabel sends him.

ITS LITERALLT THE FUNNIEST THING EVER, AND CREDIT FOR @cravingpepsimax FOR TALKING ABOUT IT WITH ME

LMAO it started because he made a post saying "I hope you read my posts in bills voice" and I made a joke about damn Bill you really want your ex and his brother to fuck huh. And then he made art of Bill with fanart and fujoing out and I tagged it with "Mabel and him start a shipping club" and it went from there babyyyy

We were also talking that after a certain amount of letters and general good behavior they allow Bill to start calling Mabel occasionally and I can just see like, Mabel picking up on some Moments™ between Stan and Ford and writing shit down to tell Bill. And then way way later she accidentally sees them kissing and screeches and is like I NEED TO MAKE A CALL

it's just genuinely fucking hilarious that he's actually starting to have an attachment to her from this. King shit.

God he probably gets invested about it too (shout out to my thumbs for accidentally typing "incested" you guys know what's up) and gets genuinely interested about how it's going between them. King shit as well

Anyways I'm glad you like it I love chatting about it

ALSO TUE DOUJINSHIS THING YES YES BILL GETS SO INTO THEM

#Stancest #fujo bill au

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roguishcat · 20 hours

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WIP Thursday

💕 Thank you so much for tagging me @busy-baker! 💕

I wasn’t going to start anything new. My WIP folder is bursting at the seams. But I daydreamed about this so much that it started writing itself. So here we are! Modern AU (Astarion x Tav)

“Well hello there, darling,” he purred, knowing that this line alone would be enough to ignite most fires.

"Um... I don't usually do this. I mean- I've never-"

Astarion rolled his eyes. They all said that.

I would never do something like this.

This is my first time.

My finger slipped and my phone accidentally dialled this number.

Most of the time it was all an act, of course. In his experience, people wanted to have their cake and eat it to. To have him, or his voice rather, and to feel that they were not the type to engage with someone like him.

Except this one sounded like she was about to hang up and Astarion couldn’t have that. A job was a job, so he would perform as well for this one as for any other customer.

"Don't you worry, my sweet. I will take very, very good care of you.”

“I’m sure you would,” she laughed nervously, “but actually that’s not why I’m calling."

“Oh? Do enlighten me then. Why are you calling?”

“I just want to talk. As in, talk talk. Like, chat for a bit.”

Okay, she was nervous and needed to be eased into it. He could work with that.

“We can do anything and everything you like. Although are you sure that you want to waste precious moments on talking about inconsequential nothings? My mouth can be used for all sorts of other, wicked things.”

“Whilst this sounds lovely, I just want to chat.”

“Chat?” he said a little harsher than he meant to. This was ridiculous. He did not chat! But then again, did it really matter? He supposed it was her money down the drain.

No pressure tags 💖 (sorry if you've already been tagged!): @clazberryk, @preciouslittlebhaalbae, @lanafofana, @waterdeep-weavemoss, @silent-words,

@verbenaa, @xxnashiraxx,

@obsessedwhyyes, @inkymoonbunny,

@honeybee-bard, @marlowethebard

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 astarion #astarion fanfiction

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detectivebambam · 3 days

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For the writing prompt thing, can I request Andrew with a child and injury?

hi I love Andrew with kids and I hope you don't mind it's Hailee (if you don't know Hailee Josten-Minyard she is tagged on my page)

also reading over this I noticed I talked about Lola. this is Hailee's friend, NOT Nathan's accomplice

I hope you like it, it's super short and I wrote the whole thing in 3 minutes <3

Andrew turned his head at the sound of the door opening. He and Neil had practice at the same time as Hailee, so Lola's mother had taken her home.

She had come in the door with a smile but couldn't hide her limp from Andrew.

"What happened?" He asked in an accusing tone.

Hailee shook her head.

"Bullshit."

"Fell off the bars during warm ups. I'm fine."

Andrew excused himself so he didn't yell, and went to grab his main suspect.

He walked into the bedroom where Neil was sat doing work on his computer.

"You know, when you work yourself to death, your daughter's gonna do the same thing."

Neil looked up and cocked his head.

"She fell during warm ups and practiced the whole day with an injury."

"Shit."

They went to the kitchen together to find Hailee sitting on the counter with a bag of peas on her ankle.

Neil gently lifted it to examine the damage.

"What happened sweetheart?"

"Nothing!" She snapped. "I just fell at practice, I'm fine."

Andrew had to leave the room again.

"It looks swollen," Neil said, turning her ankle this way and that. "Did you practice all day on this?"

She rolled her eyes.

Neil put his finger under her chin and met her eyes.

"No attitude. Answer me."

She only nodded.

"You can ask your dad what he thinks, but I don't want you putting weight on this for a while."

"Until gym tomorrow?"

She really did take after Neil.

"At least a week."

"Dad!" She shouted. "That's not fair!"

Neither of them heard Andrew come in, but he was standing in the doorway with his arms crossed.

"Maybe it wouldn't have been as bad if you'd have stopped when it happened. Lesson learned."

The poor girl looked devastated. Puppy dog eyes didn't work on Neil, but Andrew always fell victim to them. It was how Kevin got things from him back in college.

"Do you need me to carry you to the couch so you can eat ice cream and watch Dance Moms?"

Hailee smiled and nodded. "Mint?"

Andrew faked a gag and picked her off the chair.

"You're just like your father."

Neil smiled to himself as they left and got to work making three bowls of ice cream.

#aftg #all for the game #hailee josten-minyard #andrew minyard #neil josten #andreil #aftg oc #bam bam's writing prompts #the foxhole court #the sunshine court #kevin day #ty for the ask <3

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gryficowa · 17 hours

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Boycott!

I'm trying to understand a case from 2022 related to a Ukrainian diver who had an explosive to blow up gas pipelines in Russia… I don't know if it's the time (it's 10 p.m.) or language barriers, but I can't figure it out…

So yes, I'm lost…

Now that I have your attention:

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

This is what happens when you have more information in your head than you can fit…

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jiminy-crickets · 5 months

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muahahahahah tagged by @nightshadehasblorbos

RULES: In a new post, show the last line of something you wrote or drew and tag however many people you like.

“I was so scared to tell you, because, I-I love you Leon, and I didn't want our relationship to end, and I-” tears begin welling up, as Matthew looks down at Leons face in his lap. “Oh baby” Leon heaves his head off of Matthew's lap and sits up, scooching close to Matthew to wrap his arms around him. “This is not the end of us love, there are thirty two teams in this league, and not one of them is far enough away to be rid of me” “You-you’re not breaking up with me” “No, matthew, no” “Oh thank god” Matthew's voice breaks as he stumbles the words out, drawing Leon as close to him as he can without passing through him completely.

i FIRMLY believe a third act 'you cant do anything to make me want to leave you' is better then a third act break up. and i will FIGHT to defend my position on that.

i am tagging.... anyone, I, i get scared when it comes to tagging people, and i feel like i havent been here long enough to know who is and isnt cool with getting tagged in tag games. but literaly, EVERYONE, who thinks "i wish someone tagged ME in this game" you are who i am @/ing, i pinky promise.

#i need a tag for talking about my writing #my writing #<- sure yeah that works #hrpf #hockey rpf #mattdrai #WIP: obsessed #great now i need to go back and find my other posts about this and tag them proper......#(<- girl who loves archive organization and is looking forward to slog work)

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sea-webs · 1 month

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"I don't know who I want to be, anymore."

Oc - Cirque | The Dragon Chosen by the Shadows |

| mary oliver / franz wright / chelsea dingman / mary oliver / sue zhao / can't find :( / can't find :( / i am a dog. i have blood all over my teeth. - sciencedfiction / little weirds - jenny slate / the unabridged journals of sylvia |

#RAHHH guys I'm so crazy about her you all should totally ask me about her lore #web weave #webweave #webweaving #web weaving #oc webweave #oc web weave #oc - Cirque #definitely NOT the only webweave ill be making for her #still getting the hang of making these... gonna try to make some more for specific times in her life rather than just jumping around #on love #on longing #on grief #guys i love her shes so fun to squish #making these oc webweaves is so fun because i get to talk about them. also it helps me flesh out their characters #i need a tag for this specific universe of ocs lol #writing a book about them so i guess when i draft up some titles for that book ill use that for them #my webs #alt text

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a-star-that-burns-brightly · 13 days

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Man. I really thought I'd be able to form the rest of my thoughts on this episode before yapping away to tumblr, but my fucking god this scene. THIS SCENE. This scene just perfectly exemplifies the key difference between Teruko and David so so well. They are both bitter, broken pessimists to their very core and being, but the difference between the two of them is that David is still trying to cling onto hope. He believes wholeheartedly that the world cannot change, but he wants to believe it can so badly. He wants to believe he can change so badly, that he is willing to dig his claws as deep as he can muster into into anything that can provide him with that hope. That is why he clings so fucking hard and obsesses over the idealized version of Xander in his head to an almost possessive degree. Xander, to him, is proof that he can become a good person, that he can change. Teruko gave up on being a good person the moment the killing game confirmed to her that she is fated to suffer. She gave up on having hope the moment the ones she considered her friends nearly sent her to the grave. And because of this, she cannot under any circumstances understand why David clings so hard to the idea that Xander was a good person. She will never understand him, just like he will never understand her.

#I have not looked at the tags yet so I apologize if everything I'm saying has been said before #but this was my favorite scene in the episode and I needed to talk about it #absolutely amazing character writing as I've come to expect from this series #danganronpa despair time #drdt #teruko tawaki #drdt teruko #david chiem #drdt david

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neo91502 · 1 month

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finally getting around to posting this even though i made it 3 months ago (like mid may i think) and i didn’t doodle anything even though it is my banner, it’s still art !! hooray!!

#smg3 #smg3 fanart #smg4 #smg4 fanart #art #my art #neofart #digital art #he’s a little eepy #okay he looks more like he’s about to pass out there at his desk but we’re not talking about that #his notebook is there too #he was writing #i need to stop yapping in the tags right now

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likeshipsonthesea · 4 months

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you make me

bucktommy ficlet. had a convo about love. had some feelings. gave them to buck. enjoy~

The entire loft is soaked in the hazy blue light of pre-morning. Buck can hear the mechanical thrum of garbage collectors, a handful of singing birds, quiet but steady breathing. His body is sore, from work and then from Tommy, a satisfying reminder of a yesterday well spent. Everything is warm and soft like Saturday morning, even though he's fairly sure it's Tuesday.

The clock on his bedside table tells him it's much too early to get up for a Tuesday, so he turns over to get comfortable and ends up face to face with Tommy's sleep-slacked expression.

Buck watches him in that way that's only creepy if you're not in love. Takes note of his eyelashes resting against the tops of his cheeks, his lips shadowed by the slant of his nose, how the dawning daylight catches on the angles of his face. He wants to touch, but not enough to disturb the serenity of sleep on his boyfriend's face.

Eddie tells him he says that a lot. My boyfriend. "We all know his name," Eddie says, tone harsh but a creeping smirk giving away the joke.

When Buck brought it up with Dr. Copeland, she asked him why he thinks he says it so much, but it was towards the end of their session so they didn't really get into it. Buck thinks it's probably something to do with his self-image problems, or maybe his abandonment issues? Dr. Copeland's better with the answers than he is.

Calling him Tommy is fine, but saying my boyfriend says my meatless lasagna needs more starch just reminds Buck that Tommy's his and, even more novel, Buck is Tommy's.

Buck likes being Tommy's boyfriend.

Tommy's boyfriend knows Tommy's coffee order, and drops it off along with a savory treat for him at the start of a long shift. Tommy's boyfriend always knows exactly where Tommy left his blue-light glasses and grabs them before they head to bed so Tommy can read another chapter of the cheesy historical fiction novel on his tablet. Tommy's boyfriend is the one Tommy goes to after a hard shift, to talk to or hug or just sit in the same room with until the rest of the world is less heavy.

As Tommy's boyfriend, Buck is still all the things he was before--firefighter, brother, friend--but knowing there's someone who trusts him enough to sleep beside him and let him stare at their face like a creeper in the early hours of the morning--there's this unfathomable freedom to it.

It's like--if Tommy loves him, he must be worthy of it. It's a truth and a prophecy, self-fulfilling. It's this ever-turning cycle that bolsters Buck to be the best version of himself, and none of it feels like work because it's all tangled up with joy.

"How long have you been staring at me?"

Buck startles out of his internal monologue to find Tommy's left eye open. The right is buried in his pillow along with the lifted corner of his mouth.

"Probably a little too long," Buck admits, staring fixedly at that corner of Tommy's mouth.

Tommy's lips part to release a sigh before settling into a smile. "Evan. Go back to sleep."

"In a minute."

Tommy shifts closer on the pillow, his nose nudging Buck's, his morning breath awful and his eyes so close Buck thinks their eyelashes might tangle. "You worked a 24-hour shift yesterday. You need to sleep. You can stare at me tomorrow."

"Promise?"

Tommy brushes their lips together. "Promise."

Buck finds Tommy's hand between them and laces their fingers together. "Alright," he says, settling back into the mattress and letting his eyes shut as he brings their hands to his sternum. "Tomorrow."

#bucktommy #kinkley #evan buckley #tommy kinard #buck #9-1-1 #my writing #sort of fic #ficlet #look i have a lot of feelings okay #also have no idea how to tag this for the ship names #do i now wanna write a 20k fic where buck contextualizes himself #using/in terms of tommy's love for him?#perhaps #u couldn't prove it tho #also yes it's 3am we don't need to talk about it

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sommerregenjuniluft · 7 months

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evan and regulus frolicking like they're frotting in bed making out sloppy style about to fuck to the sounds of their boyfriends fighting outside

jfkdkfkdkf STOOPPP (this escalated, NSFW)

Regulus comes back into the living room, mug of steaming tea in hand and he rolls his eyes as soon as he, too, hears James and Barty where they're still out on the balcony arguing, cigarettes long stubbed out in the ashtray.

Evan grins, lifting the blanket as Regulus lets himself plop down and snuggles into his side.

“What’s it about this time?”

Evan snorts, nuzzling the black curls behind Regulus’ ear, “You think I know?”

Regulus shakes his head, like a disappointed old grandpa and Evan’s grin widens.

Outside, Barty makes an incredulous noise, half rising from his chair before he sits back down, trying to talk over James’ continuous arguing.

Regulus makes a soft groan in irritation, tipping his head back against Evan's shoulder. There’s a triangle of moles right under the hinge of his sharp jaw, teasing Evan to put his mouth to good use.

“It’s never nothing with the two of them,” Evan murmurs, warm breath ricocheting off Regulus’ skin and back at him.

It makes Regulus tilt his head back down, eyes narrowing and searching for something in Evan’s expression. He hums a little, sinking lower into the cushions and Evan’s embrace.

“Think we should keep ourselves busy, don’t you?” Evan says, catching Regulus’ eyes skipping down to his lips, “Who knows how long they'll be at it this time.”

Regulus doesn’t say anything but he tips his chin up and he lets Evan hook one of his legs over his lap without fuss. Evan watches the line of his throat move when he swallows, “You smell like lemons.”

“And limes,” Evan corrects with a grin. “You're off your game, whiskers. Something distracting you?”

Regulus’ slack expression slips into a glower and Evan chuckles, bumping their noses together. “I spooned some of Barty’s protein yogurt after dinner when he wasn’t looking, too busy nagging at James while they were doing the dishes.”

Regulus snakes a hand under Evan’s t-shirt, caressing the skin, “’s it taste anything good?"

The tiny devil on Evan’s shoulder does a little happy spin, “Why doesn’t the chef try for himself?”

Evan happily swallows the little pant betraying Regulus’ indifference before their lips connect.

He doesn't even have to goad him, their tongues nudging immediately as Regulus eagerly parts his mouth.

It's a wet slide of lips and Regulus’ short nails digging a little desperately into the side of Evan’s ribs when he sucks Regulus’ lower lips between his teeth.

James lets out a loud string of spanish curses outside, slamming a fist into what must be the metal of their balcony railing and Regulus sucks in a breath against Evan’s cheek and oh, is Evan having fun on this beautiful Friday night.

More kissing, hands grabbing and shucking away clothes and when Evan tugs Regulus closer by the hip he makes an entirely too sweet needy noise that goes straight to Evan’s cock.

They keep licking into each others’ mouths, Barty’s and James’ aggravated voices a quiet muffle in the background, and Regulus keeps making these little noises, squirming in place and adjusting his hold on Evan again and again, fingers clenching and unclenching and Evan can’t help himself but grin into the kiss.

It disrupts their rhythm and Regulus makes a complaining grunt that tells Evan he’d roll his eyes right now if he wasn’t currently busy eating Evan’s face off.

He’s so cute Evan wants to take a fucking bite out of him.

Or maybe finger him until he squirts all over the couch.

Evan gives him a lingering kiss on the cheek and then works his way down his neck and Regulus is restless, shifting around and then his fucking knee slides over where Evan is rock hard and he stutters out a truely embarrassing groan for it being a fucking knee.

But Regulus is an angel because he moans in response and slides his fingers into Evan’s bleached curls like it’s second nature whenever he needs something to hold onto.

“Evan,” Regulus speaks up, voice husky and eyes a little glassy when Evan lifts his head to look.

“Reg?” Evan says sweetly, cocking his head, before he goes back to the mark he was about to suck into the pale expanse of his throat.

“I’m– mgh,” Regulus swallows, out of breath, “Can you—”

Evan’s lips twitch into another smile, “Huh? Pardon, I can’t hear you, bébé.”

Regulus huffs but he makes another obscene noise when Evan trails his fingers up the inside of his thigh, dangerously close to where Evan already knows he wants him.

Another of his complaining noises—Evan lets out a snicker against the soft skin and gets a shiver in response—and then, “Want your fingers.”

“Want my fingers, love?” A gentle bite into the tendons of his neck.

Regulus arches, nodding against the cushions, “Please.”

And who is Evan to deny a polite plea as sweet as that of his lover?

Regulus’ sweats, that are actually Barty’s, get discarded. He isn’t even wearing any boxers, nom de dieu, and then Evan is slipping the tip of his middle finger through where Regulus is sinfully slick.

He throws his head back with a moan that Evan feels reverberating down his spine and then Regulus is looking at him with big, silver eyes. Wide and needy and dark brows furrowed and, fuck, so fucking wet for him Evan simply slips in two fingers at once.

And maybe he shouldn’t have. Honestly, should have taken it easy—Usually he’s the last out of the four of them to lose his patience but with Regulus looking at him like that?

Evan presses their lips together, heated and rough, and Regulus welcomes him happily. Makes a high-pitched noise when Evan curls his fingers before starting a slow pace of pumping in and out, thumb drawing slow, teasing circles around his cock.

Suddenly there’s a sharp noise from outside, one of their garden chairs scraping against the tiles of the balcony and then the door flings open.

“—the fuck do you think you’re goin’?”

“If I’m gonna have to listen to your fucking bullshit only one more second I’ll start to get violent, B. Reg is still pissed we didn’t get the blood stains out of the—”

“Fuckin’ pussy. I told you to– oompf,” the sound of someone walking into another body, “James?”

“Shut up.”

“You- fuck you. I’ll—”

“B, look.”

“—fucking destroy you, P- oh.”

Evan peeks over the back of the sofa to see James and Barty standing dumbly in the middle of their living room, expressions slack and balcony door wide open behind them. He crooks his fingers again and Regulus whines brokenly, throwing his head back, mouth parting in a perfect little o and Evan watches James eyes bulge behind his glasses and Barty’s tongue lolling out.

Can’t help himself when he grins menacingly, tilting his head and thumbing over Regulus’ cock again, making the man beside him arch.

“I- you seeing this, Crouch?”

“You fucking bet I am, Jamie.”

“Since when have they- How long were we out there?”

“Dunno but I do know I’m not missing another second of this. Budge up, Rosier. You’re going to get your dick sucked so good.”

“Fine with me as long as you do it ass up,” James murmurs lowly, “Gonna fuck that wrong opinion right out of you.”

Barty scoffs a laugh, “You wish.”

“Then dibs on Regulus riding me.”

“You—”

Evan shakes his head and chases the delectable noise slipping out of Regulus when he slips in a third finger.

#ino my love i’ve starting this when you sent the ask this morning but i’ve been BUSY #babysitting my baby brothers and then my granny needed my help and it’s my fathers BDAY and #also i started writing this on Tumblr and was like psshh its not gonna close itself but tjen IT DID #and i Lost part of it and i went TSHJFKDKD #but i finally am in bed and finishef this and ._.#idk why i wrote a whole oneshot either but here it is ig #jfkdkf #lune writes #ino tag #rosestarkillerchaser #also: lune try not to make regulus a chef whenever ino talks to u about him FAILED

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