#i still did wheeze ofc

[thekenobee]

I'm fulfilled. Now I can DIE

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

OMG SAW UR ASKS WERE OPEN AND I RAN SO FAST HFJDJSBS

Anyways ok so imagine *trips over my own feet* imagine uhm baking cookies *stumbling* baking cookies with Lilia:3

No pressure ofc! I hope u will enjoy writing this if u do! And make sure to drink after and take care of urself!

Flour Belongs In The Cookies; Lilia Vanrouge

Content; Gender-neutral reader, fluff, some pining

Word Count; 650+

Author's Note; Cloudy, you do know how bad his cooking is, right? Besides that, I hope you enjoy what I did with this little prompt!

As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. Link to Masterlist

You knew full well going into this that Lilia … wasn’t the best person to leave around food. Well, you didn’t know to the full extent how ‘bad’, ‘revolting’, and ‘utterly cursed’ he was according to his dormmates (and adoptive family? Still trying to wrap your head around that one, to be honest). 

Yet, as you were both adding ingredients to the batch of cookies you were making, he had done nothing to tamper with the recipe or mess up by accident. Perhaps Silver, Sebek and Malleus were just overexaggerating it? Lilia has been completely fine, a great helper even! 

“So,” you cleared your throat, breaking the quiet (which was both comfortable yet awkward). “Why did you want to bake cookies with me? Not that I mind, just curious is all.”

Lilia looked up from the wet and dry ingredients he was combining and offered you a cheeky smile with a wink. “Hmm, do I need a reason to do so,” he breathed with a silent chuckle, sneaking some of the raw dough into his mouth.

You tutted, taking the bowl away from him. “I don’t need you getting sick from eating that now–”

But your attempt at lecturing was silenced by a small puff of flour being slapped gently on your cheek; a white handprint now on it. “RUDE!”

Lilia was having a good old laugh, from either getting flour on you, the shocked expression on your face, or a combination of the two (knowing him, it was bound to be the last one). He was actually getting pink in the face because of it; was he even taking breaks from laughing to breathe???

“Ah, lighten up! Plus,” he paused and covered your hand in flour and gently slapped it on his cheek, “there, we match now.” 

His magenta eyes were twinkling with mischief and you found yourself gently shaking your head and chuckling. Sighing, you picked up some flour with your hands and made it look like you were just going to cover the countertop with it, but you swerved, and slapped it into Lilia’s hair.

Lilia coughed, and rubbed at his eyes, trying to get the flour out of his eyes, but once he opened them again, you were gone. So we’re playing games now? But he just wheezed in delight and gave chase, a cup full of flour on hand so he could repay the favour. After all, since you both had matching handprints on your cheeks, you deserved to be bestowed some flour on your head.

“And here you were saying it was rude of me for that first move,” he called out into the dorm. They couldn’t have gotten far now.

He heard the curtains ruffle, and he floated over, not making a sound.

Peaking oh so carefully behind the curtains, he spotted you, silently giggling to yourself. And that’s when he made his move.

“Found you!~” And he sprinkled the flour over your head; much more gently than you did to him.

You groaned, knowing it would take a bit to get the flour out from everything… but the way Lilia floated overhead made it look like he was sprinkling snow… was he always this pretty? Even with him covered in flour, you still felt your heart flutter.

You mentally slapped your cheeks though, and got yourself up. 

“Guess you did… but that was fun,” you chuckled, dusting yourself off to the best of your ability.

The moment though was ruined by your smoke alarm going off; it was a wonder that those even worked, but hey, at least they worked.

Rushing to the kitchen, you opened up the oven to have a mass of black smoke smelling of burnt food of some sort enveloping the both of you.

“What happened?!” You coughed out, trying to open up the windows and doors to let out the smoke.

Lilia grimaced, “Ah… perhaps I set the oven too high.”

And even though you had fun making the now coal-like cookies, perhaps store-bought would have been better…

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Tags; @afunkyfreshblog @eynnwwyjth @identity-theft-101 @ithseem @lucid-stories @ryker-writes @twistwonderlanddevotee @xxoomiii

[gelu-the-babosa-multiversal]

The idea of Heatwave being a Wavewave sparkling but mainly from Soundwave tears me up. So I'll submit you all to my PAIN!!!

The idea of Soundwave growing up in the pits, fighting for his life, becoming a top gladiator but still being seen as the lowest of the lowest, but then, this Sparkling appears in his life. A little red bot who seemingly was abandoned or was not picked when it emerged from the All Spark.

That being their first meeting, Soundwave was not yet the Soundwave we know so he didn't know what to do. His best hope was that the little bot would end just like him, surviving on its own... or just die with no pain. After all, there was no one else but him, just him, and Ravage too ofc but really no one else...

So, imagine how stupid must he have felt as he took the sparkling from the ground and was unable to put it down. Ravage in the background wheezing as she realizes what has happened ¨Oh yea, that's how I adopted you too HAHAHAHAH¨

And things well get hard. Why did he do it? Was it some left kindness on him? Did he lose his mind? or maybe, he just compasioned...?

Time passes, he keeps fighting, Ravage keeps being annoying but is still there for him, and the Sparkling now going by the name Heatwave, was there too looking from afar. Soundwave had decided that the little Bot would not participate in the arena, he would just watch and learn.

Heatwave was amazed at the way his ¨creator¨ fought other bots who were bigger than him and much more robust in comparison. Tho he didn't wish to become a gladiator just like his creator, but he still wanted to show how strong he was helping others.

Time passes, they're a small ¨family¨ for all they can say, but they are very strong and united. In every fight, Soundwave participates in the entertainment of the upper classes, he kept in reserve credits so that one day Heatwave can leave the pits and form a real life outside the misery. It would of course be a slow process, but Soundwave knew that he could do it.

A big surprise was when Heatwave shared with him that he wanted to become a Rescue Bot, a particular job that didn't really fit in any of the class rankings that Cybertron had been using... it was a job that came with intense training that if failed, all the blame would go to the bot who failed and not to the institution who trained them. A job that was more chosen to do for the pure of one spark than the want to win something. Such was that it was known that the High Council would prefer losing 5 Rescue Bot units than one Council member.

The job was clearly going to be a dead sentence, but after a long discussion, there were not many options like the Rescue recruit institutions offered to give a semi-normal life to low-class citizens... at least, for the time Heatwave would be trained he would have a home with basic needs, and once out of training and to the practice, the payment would be enough to even feed Ravage.

Soundwave still didn't want to say yes. to give Heatwave permission, but, Heatwave was just hotheaded, he was promising that with this he would be able to give Soundwave the life he could not grow up with... the life he gave to Heatwave...

Soundwave still saved credits as he kept participating in the arena, just in case.

Time seemed to fly through this change. Heatwave met his assigned team and close friends, Soundwave met new bots too, aspiring and strong allies for both of them. Yet, their ideals seemed to change as their lives grow appart.

They still saw each other, they kept communicating, and Ravage always reminded one or the other to call. But things just can't stay calm forever. The pits and many parts of Cybertron considered for the lower cast were being destroyed, homes and families being displeased so the upper class could take those areas. Slowly, a revolution was being armed with strong bots taking the lead. One in particular, Megatronus, wanted Soundwave as his second in command as he saw potential in him.

Soundwave wanted to decline at first. This could endanger Heatwave in many levels if it was known that they both were family. Megatronus seemed to understand, and it seemed that someone else would take Soundwave's place as SIC... is it wasn't for that one call...

The call that changed forever Soundwave's perspective on life and on his own decisions. It was from the Rescue recruitment system that chose Heatwave informing him of... the red bot dead, with the rest of his team...

Rescue Sigma-17 had been deployed to help another unit very far away, and as it seemed that the job was being completed, the communication began to cut. In short, all signals were lost and no vital was detected. Both units had been gone enough time to be declared deceased...

There was not going to be any effort on further location or send a 3 unit with more equipment to help or to at least know what happened. There was not going to be any effort on finding Heatwave's body for a proper funeral, his stuff as the stuff of his team would be tossed or given to their creators. That being said, Soundwave and Ravage received nothing but a big box full of credits, enough to live a luxurious life in the middle class...

It had a note from Heatwave. Just like Soundwave was saving for an emergency, Heatwave had been doing the same. Probably not eating or working extra to have this amount of credits...

... Soundwave tossed all that in their faces not accepting a damn. As fast as he could he went to Megatronus and began their plan to attack...

...

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At light years far away, after more tragedy had occurred. A small ship floating in the middle of nothing received a message that redirected t it to a planet called Earth.

Landing, four bots from stasis had awakened to see the beauty of an organic planet and to encounter a figure not many would be able to talk to, Optimus Prime.

[foundtherightwords]

Fallen Empires - Chapter 7

Pairing: Geta x OFC

Summary: Having done the unthinkable to secure his throne, Emperor Geta rules with ruthlessness and paranoia. Now, after escaping an assassination attempt, a badly injured Geta is saved by Daphne, a young widow, who takes him back to her remote village without knowing his true identity. As Daphne nurses the former emperor back to health, attraction blooms between them, and Geta discovers a soft side he didn't know he possessed. But can their love survive his thirst for revenge and his desire to reclaim power?

Chapter warnings: non-explicit smut, Geta being an oblivious jerk

Chapter word count: 2.7k

Prologue + Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Daphne didn't come back for a long time. Geta finished bathing and put on the clean tunic she had set aside for him, and still she hadn't returned to the hut. Feeling slightly worried and wondering if he had offended her somehow, he made his way outside to look for her.

A full moon was casting its light over the hills. Every stone, every leaf was painted in silver, and the lingering heat of the day felt less intense in such a cool, tranquil world. Even the insects were quiet. The only sound that broke the silence was Geta's own wheezing breath—the bath had tired him out more than he realized—and a splashing sound coming from the cistern. He turned toward it.

Daphne was sitting on a rock by the cistern, with her back to him. She was bathing, just as he had, by pouring water over herself using a dipper.

Looking at her, Geta suddenly understood why poor Actaeon had risked the wrath of Diana and death by his own hounds to spy on the goddess. He'd thought that Daphne looked like Aurora in the light of the rising sun, and now, under the moon, she had transformed yet again into Luna. In that silvery light, her body glowed with its own radiance, and drops of water on her skin sparkled like diamonds, so he couldn't tell where her flesh ended and moonlight began.

His arousal came back with a vengeance, a stiffening fire coursing through him, throbbing, aching, and he stood stock still on the hillside overlooking the garden, too mesmerized to even turn away. Had he been stronger, had it been any woman other than Daphne, he would not have hesitated to storm down to the cistern and take her right there and then, but a little voice in his mind told him that Daphne would not take kindly to that. He reminded himself that she was the only person standing between him and certain death, and it would make things rather awkward for him if he were to force himself on her. But it was more than that. Even now, sitting naked as she was, something about her struck him with awe, something stern and imposing, not physically but spiritually, something he dared not touch, lest he sullied it.

Just as he'd decided to return to the hut and take matters into his own hands, Daphne called to him, her voice ringing loud and clear in the stillness of the night. "Romulus? That you?"

Hades. How did she know? Had he made that much noise coming into the garden, or had she eyes on the back of her head? Now would be the time to apologize for spying on her, or even to sneak away as silently as he could, but he only mumbled, "Yes."

"Are you going to stay there?"

"Why?"

He couldn't see her face, but from the sudden turn of her neck, he could guess at the flush creeping up her face. "Because I like to get up, and I've forgotten my towel," she said quietly.

Her confession sent a lightning stroke through him. She was in his power now. He could do what he wanted with her.

But what did he want with her, exactly?

"I can fetch it for you," he said. His voice came out breathier than he'd expected, probably because the walk down to the garden had tired him. If not, why was his heart beating so heavily in his chest?

"Please."

But he didn't. Instead, he sidled down the garden path to the cistern. This close, the scent of soapwort was stronger than ever, making him lightheaded. He could just see the slope of her shoulders, the curves of her waist and hips, a hint of the soft swells of her breasts behind the washcloth she was clutching close to her chest. Her skin looked so smooth and white, but he imagined it would be cold and hard as marble upon touch.

"Are you still there?" she asked, after a moment.

"... Yes."

"My towel?" she prompted.

He balled his hands into fists. What was the matter with him? He had never been cowed by a woman before, and he'd be damned to the pits of Tartarus if he was to be cowed by this peasant woman now. A new but familiar fire—the fire of rage—rose within him and momentarily blotted out the fire of lust. Who did she think she was to order him about so? Did she think she could reduce him to a blushing, blubbering mess just because she was sitting before him naked? Or was this a clumsy attempt to seduce him? By Jupiter, he had seen thousands of naked women. In his bed at the palace and at the camps, in the baths, at orgies, even in the Colosseum, as female gladiators or criminals facing punishment. Only rarely did they move him. He would show her that just because he'd taught her to read and held her hand and comforted her, it didn't mean he was some village boy for her to toy with as she pleased.

The cistern was dug into the side of the hill, and with Daphne's position, right on its edge, facing the slope, the only way he could face her was running down the slope himself. He refused to go to the trouble.

"Turn around," he said.

She stiffened. "Why?"

"I want to look at you."

"...Why?" There was no anger or fear in her voice, only genuine curiosity.

"You've seen me naked, but you won't let me see you?"

It took a while for her to answer. "That's different," she said. "You were ill and I had to wash you. I took no pleasure from it."

"Who says I'm taking pleasure from this?" he said, unable to stop a smirk.

Daphne twisted her head around. Just as with her voice, there was no anger in her eyes, but the look in them wiped the smirk off his face. It was a searching, probing, penetrating look, seeking something only she knew.

"You didn't fetch the towel," she said.

"I told you, I want to look at you." Now he knew what he wanted with her. He wanted to see her squirm in front of him. He wanted to see those sharp eyes veiled by her dark lashes. He wanted to see those strong lips quivering in fear and more. He wanted to tame her. He wanted—Hades, he just wanted her.

"Turn around," he said again.

Without realizing it, he had used his imperial voice, the voice that once sent senators and soldiers scrambling to do his bidding, the tone that once sent concubines and prostitutes to their knees. Yet Daphne barely even blinked. Still keeping her eyes on him, she got to her feet and stood facing him. Before Geta could take a good look at her, or indeed even feel the thrill of having won, she raised her hand, removed the pins holding her hair, and, with one shake of her head, covered herself with its dark mass. Then she picked up her things and stalked away, her head held high, her hair streaming behind her like a cape.

Alone on the hillside, Geta watched her disappear into the hut. He didn't quite understand what had just happened. Somehow Daphne had bested him, though at what, he couldn't tell.

***

She shouldn't have talked about Galen, Daphne reflected, as she sat by the kitchen table in her chiton, combing out her damp hair. It had brought back so many memories, both sweet and painful, and they, in turn, had stirred up her feelings so much that her mind became muddled. Why else had she—had she—why, she'd practically exposed herself to a man, a stranger!

Her cheeks flushed when she remembered the moment by the cistern again. So he'd wanted to look at her, hadn't he? Well, she hoped he'd had his fill.

Once she'd gotten her clothes on, Romulus had slunk in after her and gone to bed without a word. At least he'd had the grace to look embarrassed. Daphne wanted to feel embarrassed as well, but the heat burning her up from the inside was quite different from shame.

She had been feeling that heat for a while now, ever since that morning they watered the garden together, perhaps even before that, ever since that disastrous day her father came looking for her and Romulus had pulled her into his arms. But it was definitely after the morning in the garden, when she started to notice how his eyes followed her with an unmistakable look, how his hands lingered on her, how he found every excuse to touch her or brush up against her. The fool probably didn't even know he was doing it.

Daphne knew she ought to feel offended, but somehow, she couldn't muster up the outrage. It certainly wasn't the first time she received such looks of lust from men, and certainly wasn't the first time she felt some stirrings within her either—after all, she was a healthy woman, past her prime perhaps, but not so old as to be completely devoid of want and urges. Only she'd had so few chances to pursue those urges. She wouldn't pretend that she had been celibate since Galen's death, but her love life in the past eight years had consisted mostly of quick, largely anonymous encounters with travelers who passed through the village or whom she met on her own travels, never with anyone so close to home. It was bad enough that her father was the village's drunk; she didn't need to gain a reputation as a trollop as well.

Sometimes, she wished she could remarry and not worry about her reputation, but she couldn't give up her independence, no matter how precarious it was, for such flimsy security. Most men looked at her and only saw a widow, an easy mark for their lust, nothing more. The Adala scribe was the only man whose intentions had been serious and honorable, but he had wanted her to move to town with him after they married, and she couldn't leave her hut and her work to become a housewife. And of course, there were the potential husbands that her father kept throwing at her, but most of them were his drinking and gambling cronies, and that would simply be trading one kind of prison for another.

But with Romulus, it was different. Since Galen, she had never spent so much time, close, intimate time, with a man who was not family. True, she didn't know anything about where he came from or who his people were, and he was exasperating and suspicious and possibly dangerous. Yet there was something in his eyes, something infinitely sad that sent stirrings to her heart, quite different from the stirrings that his touches and his looks sent to her loins. He tried to hide it beneath his usual scowl, but she could see it, perhaps because she often felt that sadness herself. It made her want to reach out to him, hold him, comfort him, and have him comfort her.

And then tonight... She had never talked about Galen with anyone, only her grandmother, who had been a widow herself and understood not just the grief but also the fear of finding oneself without a place, without a purpose, the disappointment of having to return to one's parents and going from being a wife to being a daughter again. Romulus probably didn't understand it, but he'd tried, by Hera, he'd tried. When he put his hand over hers, she'd almost burst into tears. It had been so long since anyone held her hand. Such a simple gesture, but it had endeared him to her forever. It didn't help that his back was there, so broad and sturdy, and the hollow between his shoulder blades was just the right shape for her to place her cheek. The moment their skins touched, a sudden wave of desire had crashed over her and settled everywhere—in her chest, her veins, and between her legs—burning with such a fire that it frightened her.

That was why she'd gone to the cistern. She'd thought that a cold bath would quench that fire.

It hadn't.

She'd heard him shuffling down the garden path, of course. She'd known he was standing there, watching her. And so she'd called out to him, just to see what he would do. Only when he hadn't done anything, she'd let her fear win and covered herself up again.

Daphne glanced at the closed door to the bedroom. What was he doing behind it? Asleep, or thinking of her as well? Back at the cistern, what would she have done if Romulus hadn't simply stood there and watched her with those dark, dark eyes? If he had pulled her into his arms, if he had kissed her, if he had done more than that, would she have welcomed it?

She asked herself all these questions, and the answer was "yes" to all of them. She liked him, for all his moods and mysteries. And—for Daphne was honest and pragmatic—there was the reason of convenience as well. Nobody knew Romulus was staying with her, and he would soon be gone, so a tryst with him would pose no threat to her way of life or her reputation as a respectable widow.

The fire continued to rise within her. She pushed the tip of her hairpin into her palm and pressed her knees together, trying to find some pressure for relief, but there was none. There was only the fire, pooling, pulsing in her lower belly.

Well, who would judge her? Not the dead. Not Galen, who had kissed her so tenderly before he left for Caledonia and told her not to wait for him. Not her grandmother, who Daphne believed had taken plenty of lovers herself after her own husband passed away from swamp fever, making her a widow at twenty-five with two young children. As for the living... they couldn't judge what they did not know.

She dropped the hairpin onto the table, letting her hair flow free. Then she got up, strode across the room in a few decisive steps, and opened the door to the bedroom.

The moon was dipping low now, leaving the lamp in the front room as the only source of illumination. Romulus was in bed but not asleep. She could tell he wasn't asleep, because even in the dim glow of the lamp, she saw his shoulders tense up the moment the door creaked open. But he didn't move, didn't turn around. He lay still as a statue, his face to the wall, breathing slowly, expectantly.

She took another step into the room. "Romulus?" she called. Her throat was dry. She swallowed, and swallowed again. "Could you help me unfasten my chiton, please?" she said. "The pin is stuck."

He turned around and sat up. He looked at her then, really looked at her, fixing his eyes on her instead of just stealing glances over his shoulder and behind tree branches. She doubted he could see much with the light of the lamp behind her, but she could see him, and the look in those dark, unfathomable eyes took her breath away and pinned her to the spot.

He got up and came over to her side. He didn't ask why she was taking her chiton off after she had just bathed. He didn't say a word. Silently, he fumbled with the pin on her shoulder. There was a tiny ping of the pin coming free, and the linen drape fell down, baring her breast. She heard him suck in a breath.

"The other side too," she told him. The other pin came off, and her chiton fell to the floor with a soft swish. They were standing close now, so close, close enough that she could feel the heat coming off him. She wondered if he could hear her heartbeats, which were so fast that she couldn't breathe.

His own breath felt hot against her neck. One of his hands closed about her waist, steering her to the bed, while with his other hand, he shut the door, plunging the room into darkness. She could no longer see anything, only feel his fingers stroking her, scorching on the cool skin of her belly and her thighs, feel the coarse linen sheets under her back and the softer linen of his tunic against her taut breasts, making her long for his hand, or better yet, his mouth there, and then feel the heat and weight of his body as he pulled the tunic up and pushed into her.

A small cry escaped her, more from surprise than pain. It didn't stop him, and she was glad, for she did not want him to stop.

Memories of her wedding night came to her mind then, unbidden—she a girl of seventeen, her poor Galen only a year older, the two of them giggling together, nervous and giddy. They'd planned to get married, but not for another year or two, until they had saved up enough money to properly start a life together. They'd thought they would have all the time in the world. What fools! That spring, Galen had been conscripted, and when they learned the ban on marriage for soldiers had been lifted, they had hastened to get married, not wanting to wait until Galen came back gods knew when. Even then, it hadn't occurred to either of them that he might not come back. They had been too young, too full of hope. It was a quick ceremony, witnessed by her grandmother and Master Kavos, who no doubt had been dragged there by the old woman on threats of death. Then Galen had carried Daphne over the threshold of his hut as traditions dictated, while her grandmother chastised them both for laughing.

Three days later he'd left, and six months later came the news he had been killed somewhere in the cold and faraway hills of Caledonia. Galen had been an orphan and left no will, and when some distant cousin turned up and kicked Daphne out of the hut, she'd had no choice but to go back to her parents. If it hadn't been for her grandmother, she would have been living with her parents still, with a heart full of grief and a barren belly, for they had not been together long enough for Galen to give her a child.

Three days. Only three days they'd had, just long enough for her to know what it was like to share her bed with someone else, but not long enough for her to memorize his shape or his touch.

None of her other lovers had reminded her of Galen. So why did Romulus? Why was her body rising to him as if it had always known him? Why did his touch, clumsy yet so confident, stir in her such a familiar fire? Why did her legs fit around his waist and her heels dig into the back of his thighs as if they were made to be there, why did her arms wrap around his back, pressing him to her as hard as he was pushing into her? And why, when he finished, leaving her with only a shimmering sweetness that hovered just beyond the edge of her skin, did she cling to him, wanting more?

But he was already retreating from her, body and mind. She held on to him, running her hand through his hair, damp with sweat, searching for his mouth, wanting to plant a kiss there, to seal this connection, this intimacy they'd just shared, but he turned away, and the kiss landed on the side of his neck instead. He pushed her off, as though her kiss was a bee's sting, and sat away from her, pulling his tunic down.

She lay there for a moment, sweat cooling on her skin, chilling her despite the warmth of a summer night, while he sat at the edge of the bed, a dark shape in the dark room, a stranger once more.

So he wasn't any different from her previous lovers then. Just another man.

When the silence became unbearable, she got up with a sigh, collected her chiton from the floor, and went into the front room.

The fire was reduced to embers, so she stoked it up and put the kettle on. While the water was heating, she cleaned herself up, put on a fresh tunic, and dug around the shelves until she found the jar of wild carrot seeds. It was running low—she must remember to gather more this autumn—but there should be enough, as long as none of her patients needed to get rid of an unwanted pregnancy. She ground up a handful of seeds in her mortar and added it to a cup of boiling water. Then, sipping the drink, she retreated to her cot, watching the garden outside the window under the murky half-light of the setting moon. A part of her hoped he would come and join her, but another part of her was relieved that he didn't. He was a stranger, she reminded herself. He would be gone soon. It would not do to get attached to him. What had just happened between them was an act of impulsion and empty passion, born out of loneliness, nothing more.

The Romans did use wild carrot seeds as a sort of "morning after" pill. I chose it instead of the more commonly known herbal remedy of pennyroyal because apparently wild carrot seeds are safer. Don't quote me on that though!

I'm taking a break from Christmas through to the New Year, but I will be back in a couple of weeks. Thank you for all your support so far, and see you guys soon!

Taglist: @sheneedsrocknroll92, @justnobodynothingmore, @barcelonaloverf1life, @myotakureprieve, @flawssy-227, @itsrainingbisexualfrogs (if you want to be tagged or removed, let me know!)

[cameronspecial]

hi hi hi i saw ur requests were open, no pressure ofc just wondering if u could do smth like rafe (established bf) giving reader the silent treatment for like weeks and shes so confused because she doesnt know what the hell she did to piss him off so she decides to confront him about it and just angst -> fluff yk??

also i literally love you and your fics so much u dont understandddd <3333

Miscommunicated Silence

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Sex in The Beginning.

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.9K

A/N: You are literally the sweetest. You made my day and I love you too, anonymous. I know Rafe isn't pissed at her, but I can't imagine Rafe being mad at Y/N for any reason because he gives me such she can do no wrong vibes like how he is with Ward.

Masterlist

Rafe’s head throws back in pleasure as his dick spews his hot seeds into the condom. His arms grip Y/N to him as they both come down from their high. She carefully lifts herself from him and goes to get some clean clothes from his drawers. “Where are you going?” Rafe questions, expecting her to stay the night. She comes over to give him a peck on the lips, “I want to stay, Rafey. But I have an early meeting tomorrow morning and my house is closer to work than yours. Plus, we both know that if I stay here, I’m going to run late because of that tongue of yours. Bye, I love you.” “I love you too. Drive safe, Baby,” he calls out, watching her leave with a soft look. 

———

Y/N has been trying to text Rafe all week but he hasn’t been answering her at all. Every time she sees him in public, he somehow doesn’t see or hear her and then disappears when she gets close enough to him. She tries meeting him at Tannyhill, yet he is never there according to his various family members. She would be more worried if she didn’t know that he is ignoring her. His text receipts, only on for her, shows that he is reading them. In all their years of dating, Rafe has never gone more than twenty-four hours without talking to her. So she isn’t sure what she could’ve done for him to give her the silent treatment for a week. It couldn’t be because she had to leave after sex last week because it wasn’t the first time one of them decided to sleep at home after sex because it was easier for them the next morning. 

Her anger towards the way he is icing her out finally over takes her and so she’s had enough. “Y/N, Rafe isn’t home,” Wheezie tries to argue, but Y/N knows it is not true. His truck and his bike are in the driveway and she knows Kelce and Topper are playing golf without him, so he couldn’t have been driven somewhere by them. Y/N gently nudges her way inside, “I know that isn’t true Wheez, I need to talk to him.” Wheezie doesn’t stop her as she runs up the stairs toward his room. She throws his door open with a slam to find him shirtless on his bed, scrolling through his phone. His annoyance flashes through him as he looks up to yell at the person. He freezes at the sight of his angry girlfriend. “I don’t know what I did, but we are never going to fix anything if you keep ignoring me,” she yells, placing her hands on her hips. She waits for a response and her anger grows to fury when he doesn’t answer. She violently shakes her head, “Are you really going to continue this childish game?” 

She stares at him and he can only return the stare with a hint of pleading she isn’t sure what to make out of it. “You know what? If this is how you deal with your problems, then maybe we shouldn’t be together,” she spins on her heels, storming toward the door. With her back to him, she doesn’t see the tears and panic cross his face. He rushes forward, wrapping his hand around her wrist. It is gentle enough that she can break from his hold, but as she turns to yell at him, she can see the pain in his eyes. This causes her to worry. If he is willing to show emotion to her at this moment and still not say something, then something must be wrong. His mouth opens, “P-Please don’t go.” The words that come out are so low and raspy that she wants to get him to a doctor immediately to check on him. “What’s wrong with your voice?” she worries, placing her hands on his cheeks. He holds his finger up and goes to get a notepad and pen from his desk. 

It takes him a second to write on the notepad before he hands the pad to her. I lost my voice this week. “Why didn’t you tell me? Or at least answer my texts. You don’t need to talk to do that,” she questions, giving him the pad back so he can respond. I was embarrassed about why I lost my voice. And texting always leads to phone calls with you. You know just talking to you isn’t enough, I love hearing your voice. “How did you lose your voice?” He gives her a sheepish look and then writes the answer down. I think I lost it when we had sex last week. I must have been too loud. She giggles at his words, looking up to see him looking away. “Aww, Rafey. Don’t be embarrassed. I think that’s hot. I love it when you are loud for me. It lets me know that I am making you feel good,” she explains, wrapping her arms around his neck. He brings his head to her neck and gives it a kiss. She plays with his hair to help stop his tears from spilling. He pulls away from her and writes something down. I’m sorry I ignored you, but please don’t break up with me. Y/N gives him a soft look and then a kiss on the lips. “It’s okay, Rafey. I forgive you.”

[dangerliesbeforeyou]

ok so ive been rewatching psychoville and saw on the wikipedia that there were a bunch of websites made for the series (they were all written by reece and steve btw) which i've been looking through cos they are genuinely SO fucking funny & also just amazingly creative lol!

anyway i know people in the fandom probs already know about this (since the show came out literally 15 years ago pfft) but i thought i'd share some of my fav bits (but honestly would just recommend just checking them out if you haven't i have been crying with laughter for literally hours lol)

i will say that a lot of the media (videos, games, etc) no longer work on the archived sites rip but i'm sure people have uploaded some of the stuff (vids especially) to yt or other places lol

so a) i love that we get some background stuff on jelly and 2) 'captain CRACKERS' bernie clifton's dressing room reference question mark ??????? (ofc bcdr was AFTER this but i know love the idea that mr jelly trained under len pfft)

what that red raw stump do though 👀 (sorry pfffft)

mr jolly's website wasn't that interesting soz tho i did like him comparing being a doctor to being a clown lol

the comment about fag bears did make me wheeze i'm afraid lol i also loved the blurry photos of lomax's commodities lol (kinda reminded me of the bit in tlog w/ that terrible old photographer guy lol)

when i tell you i DIED with laughter at the 'now known as hull' bit like u just know reece wrote that bit pfft

not really a funny thing but this poem written by david honestly kinda breaks my heart lol... i think it also a lot of additional context to david's guilt when he thought he'd killed his father(faver) because perhaps he felt guilty about NOT feeling guilty you get me? like, it felt to me that when maureen told david it was SHE who killed her husband, it didn't feel like he was mad at her for doing it, but more that she kept the fact from him. it's about... the mutual oedipus-coded obsession with one another that couldn't even be destroyed in death and in this essay i will....

ghoul_lass23 is just like me but about tumblr lol fr

nothing feels more cursed than the phrases 'the river minge has burst its banks', 'crying creamy tears' and 'fleshy rapunzel' (which i've just noticed they misspelt lol... don't think that was intentional lol?) so if i had to read this so do you <3

the way that i kinda wish this actually existed tho pfft... also, it does kinda remind me of that video where jenny nicholson talked about that insane reality show 'opposite worlds' lol

'cross between seven and glee' is honestly sending me pfft

also on this part there was a script from stinkfinger (which is a show mentioned on the show) which sounded suspiciously like a reference to tlc lol

the less said about swastknickers the better

(will say i did nearly piss myself laughing at the nazi section of the hoity toity website lol which wasn't a sentence i thought i'd type today lol)

i just love these kinds of jokes pfft

also the whole biography sections of each of the pantomime cast are fab lol tho i AM kinda pissed they made debbie from yeovil and yet didn't give her a west country accent lol!!! (i guess they thought it'd be a bit much w/ joy being bristolian but i'm still mad about it lol)

also i know people have probably already pointed this out but i do find it funny that brian in the in9 episode last night of the proms is a closeted gay guy who likes watching drag was probably a reference to brian in this show that was a drag queen like... is anything these guys do NOT a reference??? u know those gaylor fans who obsessively look for clues in her songs about her apparent secret sexuality? all i'm saying is that i think they'd really like the extended reece shearsmith & steve pemberton universe pfft

all three of these made me cry with laughter lol

ohh this is interesting lol so obviously they suspected that some people might be all 'um why didn't the sprinklers go off during the fire at ravenhill? plot hole much!' so they wrote this into one of the websites so they could be like SEE! WE'RE ONE STEP AHEAD OF YOU DUMBASSES lol

both the jeremy kyle reference (remember when that was a thing? yikes... my mum used to watch his show CONSTANTLY...) and nurse kenshington's thoughts on david and maureen are interesting lol.. also there's a reference to the serial killer top trumps in this bit lol! (do people still play top trumps?? man i LOVED top trumps lol...)

the entire sunnyvale care home section is so fucking funny (both the website AND in the show lol mrs wren/mrs ladybird face is unironically probably my favourite character on the entire show) these were just some of my fav gags lol...

ok but why is this the SECOND reference to a guy punching a child who was apparently looking at his dick lol!??!! did this happen to one of you ??!!?!? reece did you punch a child ??!???!?!??

&&&& that's it lol

there were a few websites i didn't spend long on or generally weren't that interesting (coughmidgetgemscough) but honestly? i was really captivated with just how funny and well put together all these sites were! you can tell they had a lot of fun making it and i'm sure fans at the time LOVED being able to have this semi-interactive element of the show lol

there was just something so wonderfully late 00's about these websites lol i genuinely don't think i've laughed this much at anything in literal months and all of this is just solidifies that psychoville is a criminally under-appreciated masterpiece lol

[ssahotchnerr]

imagine you and aaron dressing up as one another for halloween and how hilarious jack would find it :’) you finally come into the living room together after spending AGES getting all the details perfect, aaron is squeezed into one of your shirts (it’s a crop top on him) whilst you’re drowning in his work pants and jack is just WHEEZING seeing you two looking so silly. little does he know you only did it because you knew how much of a kick he would get out of it and neither of you have any idea how you’re going to be able to go trick or treating like this

LMAOOOOO stop i love that SO MUCH

hehe i feel like this is an idea you and aaron would come up with as the two of you are falling asleep 😭 you’re lying in bed together — you’re curled up against his chest — making small talk and are just slap-happy at the late hour. the topic goes to halloween and aaron jokingly says you two should go as each other, and you just sit up right and are like: we should!!!!!!!!! hehe aaron just looks up at you, quirks an eyebrow and was like, “honey i was kidding” 😭😭😭 but then you persuade him by saying how funny it would be and jack would absolutely lose his mind

hehe so comes halloween!!!!! you’re both digging through each other’s side of the closet finding something to wear and the two of you just cannot get over how funny it is 😭 you trip while putting aaron’s pants on and omg he swears he has never laughed so hard 😭<333 (after checking you were alright ofc 🥰)

but AHHH jack literally freezes when he sees the two of you — he runs into the room, sees you both and stops. first he’s all ????? confused but once you explain, just as you predicted, he’s absolutely besides himself 😭😭😭 and omg it’s one of the things he talks about forever — “remember when daddy dressed up as you for halloween :D” and erupts into laughter — it’s still just as funny as the very first time

hehe and i feel like the two of you would change a bit before going out for trick or treating (especially aaron since it’s cold out 😭) BUT you would keep his tie on, aaron would still wear one of your signature items, something like that <333

[bloomingflowersthings]

Okay so here's my request!

Natasha was on a mission, and the guy she was fighting has mind control powers. Before the villain dies, he searches through Nats mind to see what she loves most, and ofc its R. He mind controls Nat to be unkind and mean to R for one full day. Nat is still herself inside, and is hearing herself say mean things and do mean things to R, and R is so confused and sad, and Nat feels so horrible and guilty. Maybe to make it sadder R is sick with a cold or something 😭 The next morning R is prepared for mean words but Nat apologizes over and over and explains. Insert fluffy happy ending 🤭 thanks for your time!

Sick of your attitude- part one

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x sick! reader

Author’s note:This ask spent sooo many time in my askbox!! As soon as I read this idea, I had the whole story planned in my head but I couldn’t get the words out :’) hope you like it!!

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Dealing with Hydra facilities was never a easy task, but this mission had just been absurd. Natasha had to gather some intel from an abandoned laboratory, but she didn’t expect to encounter an enhanced scientist still working there. The man looked inoffensive, but he had mind controlling powers, so the widow had a really hard time fighting against him. She managed to defeat him, but before dying, he casted a mind controlling spell that would make the redhead be mean to the person who she loved the most for one full day. Unfortunately that person was you.

While piloting the quinjet, Natasha could only think about finally getting home, so she could see you.

ugh, she’s gonna be so needy…

Wait, what? no, she missed you and she wanted to cuddle you all day! where did this came from?

“I must be tired.” Nat mumbled to herself, trying to make sense of her thoughts.

Sighing to herself, she put the jet in autopilot, so she could maybe relax a little.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You could hear some persistent knocking on your door, however, your fever riddled body couldn’t move and your hazy state didn’t allow you to call for help.

Yesterday you woke up feeling weird, but you pushed through it, since Nat was the piles of paperwork wouldn’t get done by themselves.

That was a very poor decision, you ended up the day laying down on the couch with a raging fever. At least Wanda tried to help you the best that she could, given the fact that you had always been stubborn about showing weakness in front of people.

“Y/N? can I come in?” Wanda asked. She woke up with the news that Natasha was coming home today, so she went to your room to check on how you’re doing and to cheer you up with the good news.

“Hmm.” You whimpered, as much as you wanted to tell her to come in, your sore throat only allowed to weakly hum.

Hearing your quiet whimpers and loud thoughts, the witch entered the room.

It was dark, your curtains were drawn and the TV was the only source of light and background noise. You were right in the middle of the bed, buried under layers of blankets, but somehow still shivering. Your chest made a wheezing sound whenever you breathed and you just looked miserable.

“Poor thing, I came over to see if you were feeling any better but I already know the answer.” She cooed, sitting crisscrossed besides you on the bed.

“hheh'tsh! Hu’tshhiew!” You sneezed on the crook of your arm, coughing slightly afterwards. The action was enough for Wanda to notice how congested you sounded.

“I really don’t like the sound of that.” Wanda said, bringing her hand to your forehead, frowning at the heat emanating from you.

You just nodded, whimpering when chills came over you.

“Do you know who’s coming home today?” She asked, running her hands through your hair.

“Nat’s coming home?” You asked suddenly, the action sending you in a fit of coughs.

“Shh… breathe, yes she’s on her way back now. What about you take a shower so we can get some medicine on you? I can make you some breakfast.”

“Thank you so much Wands, but I really don’t want to be a bother, I’m fine, really” You said, trying to untangle yourself from the blankets.

“You could never be a bother silly, and you know how much I love to cook, now go ahead and I’ll wait for you in the kitchen.” Wanda said, making her way to the door.

You took your time getting out of bed and stretching your heavy limbs. It felt like you had been hit by Mjölnir

You took a warm shower, washing and untangling your hair. You wanted to look at least presentable for your girlfriend and were hoping that it would help you feel more refreshed.

Shivering as you got dressed, you cringed at yourself in the mirror. Sure, you were clean but the paleness was obvious on your skin and it made contrast with your flushed cheeks, there were bags under your eyes and you just looked sick.

You slipped one of Nat’s hoodies and made your way to the compound kitchen.

“Hey! are you feeling any better?” Wanda asked, fixing herself some coffee.

“Yep, breakfast is looking good! thank you Wands.” In reality you weren’t feeling better at all, but you didn’t wanted to make a big deal out of it, so you were trying to follow your routine normally.

“Don’t mention it!”

You both sat down in a comfortable silence and ate your breakfast. Until Wanda got up to train.

“Just take it easy, ok?”

“I will, thank you for everything.” You answered.

You decided to sit down on the couch and watch some netflix until Nat arrived.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Stepping out of the quinjet, Natasha was relieved to finally be home. However she didn’t failed to notice that you weren’t waiting for her.

As she entered the compound, Wanda greeted her.

“Welcome back Nat, are you ready for another mission?” She asked jokingly.

“Don’t even joke about it, I’m exhausted.” She chuckled.

“That’s fair, you deserve some rest.”

“Have you seen Y/N?”

“She’s in the living room, she’s not feeling well since yesterday.” Wanda said.

“Don’t pay any attention, it’s probably all just dramatics.” Natasha stated bluntly, mentally kicking herself. What was wrong with her?

Wanda looked shocked. He never saw the widow being cold towards you. Even when you two were fighting, she would still be kind to you. However she decided not to push it, she could feel Nat’s mind going loud and dense, however her thoughts were muffled, almost if they were blocked.

“Okay then… go to sleep Nat, you need it.” He said, giving her a side hug.

She was too perplexed to say anything, so she just made her way to the elevator.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Miss Y/N, Miss Romanoff just entered the compound, you asked me to alert you when she was back.” FRIDAY said, pulling you out of your light slumber.

You rushed to the door to greet her just as she entered the living room, and hugged her tightly.

“Hi love, I missed you” You said, not failing to notice that she wasn’t hugging you back. stepping out of her embrace, she looked coldly at you.

“You look like shit, Y/N.” Nat stated, walking towards the couch.

“Umm… yeah, that’s because I’m a little sick, but don’t worry, Wan-“

“Can you just shut up for a second? I just got home from a rough mission and you’re complaining about being sick.” She snapped, her heart aching with every insult she made towards you.

“Sorry, I know you’re tired Natty, I’m gonna be quiet.” You stammered, holding back tears.

Seeing how miserable you were made Natasha’s heart sink. You were sick and missing her and she was being a little bitch to you. But no matter how hard the widow tried, whenever she opened her mouth she’d say horrible things. So she decided to just sit with you in silence.

She tried to lay her head on your shoulder but you pulled away from her with a heartbroken look. “Don’t touch me.”

Nat went white at your request, realizing how much she was hurting you, she couldn’t understand what was going on. However, the anger that wasn’t her’s wanted to make itself known, and the redhead spoke up again:

“Do you really need to be a dramatic bitch? This is the last thing I want to be doing in my time and you know it.”

The look in your eyes turned from sadness to bitterness, prompting you to stand up for yourself.

“Look Nat, if I’m bothering you that much I guess I’ll just leave!” You managed to say before choking in a round of painful sounding coughs.

“Oh please, look at you! You can’t even take care of yourself! it’s ridiculous.”

You glared at her like you never did before while standing up:

“You know what, Romanoff? I don’t need you to nurse me, Im perfectly fine!! Actually, I was better when you weren’t home.”

You said as you exited the room, leaving Natasha heartbroken by her own attitudes.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You’d spent the rest of the afternoon in one of the compound’s guest bedrooms, mostly crying. You were all emotional and most definitely running a fever, you just wanted to run away from everything but the exhaustion in your body wouldn’t let you.

Suddenly, your thoughts were interrupted by FRIDAYS voice:

“Miss L/N, I must remind that you have a meeting in half an hour, however you seem to be in distress. Do you need any help?”

“No thanks, I’ll be alright.”

As much as you wanted to ditch the meeting, it had been scheduled a week ago, and you didn’t wanted Nat to think that you were being dramatic, so you dragged yourself out of bed to try and look presentable.

Of course crying gave you puffy eyes and aggravated the redness around your nose, and the flush on your fevered cheeks had darkened. Not having time (or energy) to put on makeup, you decided to just wash your face and quickly braiding your hair. You got changed in a T-shirt, a thick hoodie and some joggers, Hoping that it would end soon ao you could go back in your PJs.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You got to the meeting room right in time, but everyone was already there. The team noticed your lack of enthusiasm and decided not to push it, especially when you sat the farthest away from your girlfriend.

Natasha had a worried look on her face, you looked much worse than before and it was her fault. As much as she wanted to hold you and nurse you back to health, she knew that you were still hurt by her previous actions, so she gave you space.

As everybody settled down, Steve started the meeting. Everything was going fairly smoothly, just with some sneezes interrupting you, but your breath got caught in your throat, and it send you in an awful coughing fit. Wanda was sitting besides you and started rubbing your back, while the rest of the avengers glanced worryingly at you.

As much as Natasha tried to hold back her tongue, the words slipped out of her mouth:

“Would you stop it?  I know you’re faking it.”

The conference room went silent and everyone looked shocked, until Steve sternly:

“Natasha, respect is essential if we’re working as a team. Tell Y/N you’re sorry or just leave the meeting.”

You went tense with the glare the redhead sent to you, even though she looked annoyed by the situation (in reality, she was annoyed with herself), there was an apologetic look in her eyes.

She wanted to apologize. But the mental block was too strong, so instead of risking saying anything else, she got up and left.

“M’ sorry guys…” You said, feeling bad for causing all of this.

“You don’t need to apologize for feeling unwell, but perhaps you should go to bed and sleep off this bug.” Steve said.

So you got up and made your way to the guest room, shivering the whole way there.

You grabbed more blankets and buried yourself under them, wanting to sleep your problems away.

[gremlin-girly]

Flufftober Day 8

@flufftober

Prompt(s): Chopping/ piling wood

Pairing: pre-serum!Steve Rogers x Lumberjill!Reader

Warnings/Tags: FLUFF, kind of a meet-cute?, mentions of coughing/retching/nausea, pre-serum Steve, descriptions of asthma attack, muscled reader (ofc), nicknames (sweetheart, love, dame,)

Summary: When Steve has an asthma attack on a training drill and gets lost, he meets a friendly axe-wielding dame who takes his breath away. Word count: 1.6k

I hope you enjoy! Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated 💜 Dividers by: @/saradika-graphics

A/N: I though of lumberjill!reader as soon as I saw the prompt. I know we see a lot of lumberjack!Steve or Steve chopping wood (bc of that scene in AOU) but as someone who did a whole project on the Lumberjills of WW2 in school - I couldn't NOT make a fic about one. We will just ignore that Steve never went to the UK pre-serum though x

I've linked articles here and here on the history of lumberjills that I recommend reading if you have the chance - Love, Grem x

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The ship over to England had been awful. The ship's interior was mostly barren and icy cold, which had triggered Steve's asthma. He'd tried hacking quietly in a corner, left to his own devices trying to sketch, but it wasn't long before he was on the deck spewing over the side of the ship - much to the amusement of some of his brother's in arms.

Within the last two hours of the trip, the waves became rockier and more volatile. Despite the size of the ship, it was still knocked about mercilessly in the sea. Now, it wasn't just Steve whose stomach churned. However, the rain outside had everyone stuck to the confines of the ship; soldiers too close, too hot and too sick to complain.

And that was only the beginning.

The rain never seemed to stop, even after leaving the ship. Everything Bucky had said about Britain in his letters was right; it was just grey and muddy. Steve's boots sank far into the mud, slipping and squelching along trying to keep up with the thrum of tired soldiers. Still, despite the sickness, despite the rain, despite everything; he was right where he wanted to be.

The rain never let up.

It was cold and humid, running in the mud through a forest trail somewhere in England. Steve was soaked to the bone and the wet, damp humidity was playing havoc with his lungs. At first, he tried powering through it. Pretending it wasn't happening as his chest tightened and he wheezed for breath.

When he couldn't ignore the tightness around his throat anymore, he'd already fallen behind. He hated this. He hated being sick all the time, the suffering, the pain. The struggling to keep up with everyone else around him. His chest tightened again and it felt like his lungs were being twisted and wrung out like a damn dishcloth.

He was supposed to be training under a British Colonel this afternoon. At least that's what he'd told himself. One who had a reputation for churning out the best soldiers. This drill was one of the first tests all of the privates and officers were put through to see if they could make the cut. Steve had stupidly tried to convince himself he could have done it. Again.

He wasn't sure where he'd turned off to either. He'd stopped to retch and catch his breath and when he'd started to jog again he'd managed to somehow take a wrong turn. Which wasn't helped by the fact he felt another attack brewing in his lungs, and had to slump against a tree to take deep, ragged breaths and cough violently, until it passed. Thankfully, the rain had stopped. "You okay?"

Steve was too busy coughing to respond but his bleary eyes looked up to see someone towering over him with an axe over their shoulder. He sucked in a harsh breath, still desperately trying to breathe. The person leaned closer, voice low and cool:

"You a nazi?" The axe slipped from their shoulder, the blade glinting viciously in the light. Steve's eyes widened and he threw his hands out quickly blinded by panic.

"American!" He wheezed, coughing again. "American!"

His palms fell against the forest floor, damp moss and twigs biting into his skin. The figure leaned back, re-adjusting the axe onto their shoulder. "Oh, sorry sweetheart. Must'a given you quite a fright."

Steve looked up again, blinking away tears from the coughing fit. The voice, now that he was paying attention, was a little too high to belong to a man. In the gentle sunlight that cascaded through the trees, Steve's mouth fell open as the sun caressed your face. You were dressed in overalls and boots caked in mud, some even on your face, with your hair tied behind you. You're smiling down at him, taking in his expression, but seemingly not offended. You looked... beautiful.

"Never seen a Lumber Jill before, have ya love?" You chuckle, offering him your free calloused hand. Steve looks at it dumbly before taking it and you tug him to his feet. You don't expect him to be so light, and he doesn't expect you to be so damn strong; so Steve ends up colliding into you, mumbling flustered apologies.

"S'alright," You chuckle, patting his shoulder as he wheezes again. Steve's face is red from coughing and embarassment. He feels worse now that there's a beautiful dame in front of him and he can barely speak without coughing and sputtering, not to mention the fact that you're helping him. "Come on, let's get you some water."

You jerk your head behind you and lead him to a stump with a backpack leaned against it. There's some neat piles of freshly chopped wood, tied together tightly with black ropes. You place your axe against the stump and rummage in the bag for a moment before handing Steve a flask of water. He mutters his thanks again, his eyes drifting over you as you stand tall again, hands on your hips. You're about his height, maybe a little smaller, but where Steve is lean and thin, you're slender and muscular. Steve can't help but stare at the way your biceps strain at the plaid shirt sleeves you've rolled up.

What a dame.

"Thanks," Steve hands back the flask and you take a swig yourself. "You said you're a - lumber Jill?"

You nod, screwing the top back onto the flask. "One of many in the Women's Timber Corps."

"The -" Steve blinks at you. "Women's Timber Corps? I haven't heard of-"

You wave your hand, cutting him off. "I didn't expect you too. Just another thing we're doing while the boys are away." You give Steve a wry smile, picking up your axe and chopping logs in two with ease and he finds himself feeling a little tongue-tied all over again. "How come you're all the way out here?"

Steve begins to explain the events of the morning and you listen with rapt attention, nodding your head in between soft grunts as you raise your axe. Once he finishes, you look over at him, free hand on your side again and leaning into your axe hilt.

"It's quite a ways back to the barracks by foot." You comment and Steve shrugs.

"I'm a soldier. If I can't even walk back there, I'll be sent home for sure. It was hard enough to get in in the first place." He grumbles, rolling a stone under his foot miserably.

"Who said anything about walking?" You quip, smirking at him. Steve's eyebrows shoot up into his cap when he looks over at you. You nod your head to your right at a dense patch of woods. "I've got the car through there. Let me finish this last pile and I'll drop you back on the way home."

Steve can't quite believe his ears, or his luck, but his momma raised him to be a gentleman. "I couldn't ask you to do that."

You raise an eyebrow at him, smirking slightly. "You're not asking, love. I'm offering. I've got to drop off some piles to the barracks anyway."

Steve grins softly at you and his eyes sparkle. "Let me help get the piles onto the car - at least."

"Sure. Thank you." You continue to chop the last of your logs, watching Steve closely as he dragged two of the four piles of wood past the treeline; huffing and puffing as he went. You had to bite back a grin more than once. Watching him soldier on was incredibly endearing. Although, the look on his face when you joined him at the car towing two of the log piles behind you at once was priceless.

The drive to the barracks was filled with chatter as you and Steve discussed your lives before, and during, the war. When you found out he was an artist, you demanded he bring you sketches when he was next in the town, to which he'd excitedly agreed.

Pulling up outside the heavily trodden gates, you killed the engine and looked over to Steve with a smile. "You better head inside whilst the weather holds."

"Yeah and thanks," Steve gushes, carefully climbing out of the car. He picked up one of the piles in his arms, leaning back to take the weight. You could just about make out the tip of his cap behind the logs and stifled a giggle.

"Don't worry about it, love." You call back to him, seeing his legs wobble a little in the mud and his ears go pink. Your own heart flutters at the sight. "Go and take those straight to Colonel L/N."

"Why? Do you know him?" Steve calls back over the roar of the engine as you restart it. That was the name of the colonel he had been so convinced he could work under. The one who had the reputation oof being one heck of a scary guy but had his soldier's respect. Steve had been unsure how he'd be reprimanded for getting lost, let alone failing to finish the drill. Thoughts of training under the colonel had pretty much dissipated.

"Yeah, he's my father." You chuckle, watching Steve almost do the splits, somehow managing to keep a hold of the wood. "Trust me, you won't be in trouble. If you tell him I sent you."

You drive away once Steve is back inside the barracks, knowing that when your father returned home that night, you would probably get an earful about sending Steve to him. However, you knew that once your father met him and saw that endurance, that drive, that spark you saw; he would help Steve become the best soldier Steve could ever hope to be.

[lees-chaotic-brain]

Hello! I'd like to give Inumaki an ugly Christmas sweater (with high neck ofc) that was knitted by reader. It was her first time, but sweater still looks nice; and probably there is a bear pattern or written something cool and funny.

Good luck!

Ahhh this is so perfect for him, I love it! Also, credit for the text on the sweater goes to that one jjk x reader texts person who has Inumaki's name saved as toge bear. Lmk in the comments if you know who it is.

CW: Singular mention of puke (as a description of a color), crack, fluff

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For weeks you had toiled on your secret project, working well into the wee hours of the morning. Weeks of finger cramps, endless frustration, and eyes burning from a lack of sleep. But finally. Finally, it was done.

Holding out the monstrosity you had created, you couldn’t help but to cackle with glee at your horrific creation.

All your hard work and sleepless nights had finally come to fruition, and in your hands you now held the world’s ugliest Christmas sweater.

The base was a puke green shag, mottled with random patches of mud brown. Neon orange sequins had been sewn winding around the arms, the pattern imitating lights strung around a tree. And to top it all off there was a misshapen white bear with lopsided violet eyes on the front above the words ‘My Toge Bear.”

It was perfect. It was divine. It was your best work yet. Carefully wrapping it in navy tissue paper and placing it in a silver bag you throw open the door to your dorm and make your way to your boyfriends dorm.

“Togeeeeeeeeee!”

You call as you burst into his dorm.

“I have something for youuuu!”

“Really?!”

His eyes light up and he quickly pauses his game before swiveling in his chair to face you.

“Gimme.”

You had barely extended your arm and offered him the gift bag before he reached out and snatched it. Scurrying over to the corner of his room, he sat with his back to the wall and eyed you suspiciously as he opened it. And finally, the moment you had been waiting for arrived. Your boyfriend looked at your creation for a couple of seconds, silent.

You were practically wriggling with glee, dying in anticipation for his reaction to your gift. Slowly he looked at you, and an evil smile spread across his face. He stood, and retrieved a gift bag of his own from his closet and handed it to you.

Wait, where was his abject horror? His look of acute betrayal?? What was with that look on his face? You were beginning to feel a little uneasy.

He motioned for you to open it, before retrieving the hideous sweater and what-did he just put it on?

A sly little grin flashed across his face, quickly replaced by one of doe-eyed innocence.

I love it! He signed, gesturing for you to open your gift. Now open yours!

Filled with trepidation, you slowly pull whatever is lurking in the gift bag out into the light. Staggering back, you dramatically fling your hand against your forehead as you drop your gift. Your handsome, loving, loyal boyfriend had finally revealed his dark side. Laying crumpled in a pile on his hard wood floor was not a ugly Christmas sweater, but an ugly Christmas dress, made of itchy wool and covered with bells and flashing lights.

Do you like it?

His shoulders were shaking with the effort of suppressing his laughter, making his signing choppy. Giving him a half-hearted glare, you made eye contact and that was the end. 

The two of you burst into hysterical peals of laughter as you wheezed and leaned against each other. The second one of you was beginning to calm down, the other would hiccup and start giggling, starting a whole new round of cackles.

Once you had managed to get yourselves under control, the two of you each put on your respective gifts and had a photoshoot, dramatically posing with exaggerated facial expressions. As the two of you rolled on the ground, practically sobbing with laughter after Toge attempted to throw a sultry look of his shoulder for the camera, you fell in love with him all over again. This was what you wanted your future to look like; enjoying spending time with the man you love, while laughing over mundane things such as an ugly Christmas sweater.

[charcoalgrayswriting]

Drop

Read on AO3 HERE!

Words: 2968

Summary: After a honeypot mission with a dom, she is suffering from subdrop. After noticing this, Adler helps her out. (OFC is not described, and can be interpreted as Bell)

“Fuck,” she grumbled as she stumbled against the ugly patterned wallpaper as she tripped over her own two feet. Sighing she forced her tired aching back to straighten, despite the dizziness and black spots it caused. 

Adler had called her to his room to discuss something. However, she had already been in bed and half asleep, so he would have to just deal with her lack of professional attire. She had simply thrown a hotel-provided robe over her pajamas, not even bothering with a bra. 

Shoulders rolling back, she knocked on the wooden hotel door. The motion caused some nausea, and the knocking made her head pound, but nonetheless she pushed through. 

It was yanked open, revealing Adler standing in the doorway with a lit cigarette perched between his teeth. He almost looked… soft, or maybe domestic with his work polo unbuttoned and untucked, hair mussed, and signature shades swapped out for a pair of normal glasses. It made a part of her want to submit and sink to her knees, before she shoved her urges down and forced the fantastical thought away.

 “Good, you’re here,” he muttered, and she tried not to let it show how his unintentional praise affected her. It was like pouring warm honey into the cold empty pit inside her stomach she’d had since the last op. She didn’t think she was very successful, judging by his subvocal hum and the aborted upward twitch of his lips. 

Ushering her into the room, he sat her down at the small table, standing just behind her. Before she could turn her head around and ask just what he thought was doing, two large warm hands landed on her tired shoulders, forcing her to keep still with a simple squeeze before they traveled under her nightshirt. A non-verbal order that she hastened to obey with a shudder. 

Adler always exuded a certain amount of dominance that was nearly overwhelming on a good day. Whether or not he intended it to be was unclear, but with her state the way it was after her last mission, well, it was nearly unbearable. It made her lean back into the warmth of his body, ever so slightly tilting her neck to expose it to him. Submitting to him in a way she never allowed herself to before. 

The pleased noise he made nearly made her cry with relief. When he began to work at the tense muscles in her shoulders a low whine broke from her lips before she could even attempt to stop it. She didn’t know it was possible to become more tense, but somehow, she did despite all his hard work. 

The urge to run warred with her instinct to be good, to stay put like he had commanded. It wasn’t a feeling she was used to, and it nearly paralyzed her. 

“Well isn’t that interesting.” Adler all but purred, and she could practically feel the smile on his face, even if she couldn’t see it. 

Nausea and shame curled in her gut as she tried to turn around and face him, swaying as she did so. “Adler I can expl-” 

Clamping his hands down on her shoulders, Adler stilled her. “Oh?” Leisurely, he continued to work at the knots in her shoulders, and the easing of her muscles made her slump forwards so that her nose almost touched the hotel table. 

“Mhm,” eyelids drooping, she tried to force herself up, fight the impending subspace, but failed. A small huff of laughter could be heard behind her, though she could barely muster up enough strength to feel indignant on her own behalf. 

“You’ve been doing so well,” The praise hit her like a punch to the gut, and she let out another whine, this one closer to a wheeze. 

“Oh you liked that, didn’t you?” He paused as he dug his calloused fingers into a particularly tough knot, letting out a small grunt, before continuing. “You know, I’ve been watching you.” 

Though her mind recoiled at the statement, she found that her body was unwilling to move. Maybe she could trick herself into thinking it was just her biology, urging her to let him put her under. 

But she knew the truth. No other dom she had met had the effect on her that he did. Though she did kneel for them, she’d never felt the urge, simply doing it to take care of her biological needs. 

Ever since the last op, she had been dropping, hard. She felt dizzy, nauseous, pained, empty, and cold all at once. And now, Adler was helping her through it, her prior positive experiences with him seemed to be enough for her subconscious to want to obey him. He had proven himself to be a capable dom. Good at taking care of his people, willing to provide, and dole out fair punishment. And it didn’t hurt that he wasn’t all that bad to look at, either. 

“At first I thought your file was wrong.” Fingers holding her head in place by the jaw, Adler’s thumbs pressed into the base of her skull, where her head met her spine, kneading it slowly. The migraine that had been plaguing her, magically, mercifully, reduced. Breath stuttering, she felt such relief she could cry. She held back, for that would only make the pain worse, though her eyes still watered. 

“I mean, you acted so much like the rest of us, so much like a dom that I just couldn’t see you as a sub.” Adler tilted her head back, pulling her up and into his chest, leaning her into him. His body was warm, the scent of cologne and cigarettes wrapping around her like a comforting blanket. Inch by traitorous inch, her body began to relax into him. 

A firm hand wrapped gently around her throat. She should be panicking, these hands were responsible for the deaths of hundreds, maybe thousands. Not only that, she knew that he would not hesitate to end her with them if he thought she was a threat. Instead, she just felt safe with his calluses scraping along the delicate skin of her neck. 

“But then I began to notice things. Little things that most people overlook” His thumb began to rub up and down her pulse, his other hand twirling his lit cigarette around in her peripheral vision. 

“You lean into anyone who touches you,” much like she was just now. Hastily, she tried to pull away from Adler, only to have him stop her, pressing back her against his chest with his firm but gentle grip on her neck, squeezing it lightly in warning. 

“Careful now,” and she took the reprimand for what it was, a pained whine sneaking through her lips before she could stop it as the gaping pit in her stomach deepened. 

“Your eyes light up beautifully at praise,” her cheeks heated at Adler’s murmured proclamation, trying to shrink in on herself before remembering his reprimand. He didn’t verbally acknowledge this, but he did huff another laugh. She didn’t want to, but she treasured the rare sound. 

He sighed, continuing on when she settled, his thumb rhythmically stroking across her carotid artery. “You de-escalate well, don’t immediately start a fight unless there’s no other option.”

“You show a high degree of emotional intelligence, not normally seen in doms.” She tilted her head up to stare at him through heavy lidded eyes, halfway to subspace with no more than light praise and a gentle touch. It should have made her feel pathetic, had her brain not already shut off all higher thinking. Once all this was over, she would feel embarrassed for how little it took for Adler to get her to relax. 

Adler continued on, the hand holding his cigarette coming to rest on her shoulder, the lit end pointed away from her face. “You know exactly how far to push, and how to push to get the intel you need.” 

She was barely listening to him anymore, letting his honeyed words wash over her mind, slowly and carefully lowering her into subspace.

For an undetermined amount of time there was silence, “And I think you dropped after this last op.” 

Well she was certainly listening now, a cold dread set into her stomach at the reminder of her last op. She jerked away from him, a panicked noise dying in her throat as Adler held her close to him. The hand around her neck tightened, cutting off her air for a few seconds before he released her. She took the reprimand for what it was, tilting her neck to him in deference as she shook. 

He sighed above her. “Truthfully, I never considered that your lack of aftercare would be a problem. Had I remembered, I wouldn’t have pulled you out so quick.” the hand on her shoulder rubbed up and down her arm, like he was trying to soothe a skittish horse.

For some reason, it was working, and the icy-cold wrongness of subdrop began to thaw. 

Under his breath, Adler muttered, “Hudson really reamed me out for that one.” and she was unable to hide her rasping laugh. So that had been what all the yelling was about yesterday. Everyone had heard it, but no one could say for certain what had made Hudson so furious he started screaming. Especially at Adler. 

“You’ve been so good.” It was like he injected serotonin right into her brain, she was so close to subspace, teetering on the edge of floating off the cliff into a peaceful abyss. 

Now beyond words, she settled for a small hum. 

“Let's get you more comfortable,” before she could completely register what he was saying, Adler was tugging her up and out of her seat, leading her over to the leather cuck chair that all hotels, regardless of where they were in the world, had. On the floor was one of the pillows from the bed, and without thinking, she knelt on it, looking back up at Adler for direction. 

He graced her with another one of his rare smiles before sitting down in front of her, and the euphoria of pleasing her dominant nearly knocked her over. 

“Good girl,” the praise went right to her head, and she whined again, swaying as her arms fluttered in front of her, unsure of what to do. 

But she didn’t need to worry, Adler understood, and he placed a hand in her hair, gently tugging her head into his lap. His actions unbalanced her, and she wrapped her arms around his legs as she fell into them. 

“Just like that.” The hand stayed in her hair, petting her, while he continued to smoke leaning back into his chair, watching her with heavily lidded eyes. 

It was too much and not enough, and she could tell that she was so close to subspace, and she didn’t want to disappoint Adler, but she just couldn’t– 

As her thoughts began to spiral, Adler tugged her hair. Not enough to hurt her, just enough to get her to look back up at him. 

“What do you need?” she shuddered, mind blanking as she scrambled for something to tell him. 

“I don’t know sir,” she whispered, voice cracking, frustrated tears welling up in her eyes. If he was surprised by the title, he didn’t show it. Instead he examined her closely. 

“Alright,” his hand slowly stroked through her hair again, and she leaned into the touch like a cat. 

“I need you to relax for me, can you do that?” and she nodded against his legs, realizing that she hadn’t truly relaxed yet. She may have submitted, but she was still waiting to be jerked back out of her hazy state. 

Her muscles take a few seconds to respond as she tries to relax them, slowly going boneless. It makes all the difference, and when Adler resumes petting her hair with some more praise, she’s gone. 

Lips parting, her head lolled to the side as she closed her eyes, listening to Adler’s words. But she did not truly hear them, just allowing herself to be tugged deeper and deeper into the ocean of subspace. The scent of whatever brand of cologne and cigarettes Adler used became a warm blanket around her as she just breathed. 

The pain that had been plaguing her slowly receded, and tears pricked at the corners of her closed eyes. 

For an undetermined length of time, they just sat like this, his hand in her hair, her head in his lap, their breath and hearts synced with each other. She could stay like this forever. 

Unfortunately, her body had other plans, and her legs began to cramp. Adler noticed her shifting her weight to try and get comfortable again. 

“Look at me,” and she could feel the command in his voice, impossible for her to disobey with all of her defenses down. 

Staring up at him with wide, wet eyes, she waited for his next command. 

Adler merely hummed, studying her like she was something precious, carefully running his fingers across her cheek. He handled her like she was important, and perhaps that was the best thing of all. 

“You look so beautiful down there,” his thumb brushed along her cheekbone, and again, she leaned into his touch, feeling the way her cheeks heated as she did so. 

“Ready to come up yet?” considering for a second, she shook her head, squinting as she shifted uncomfortably again. 

“Alright then, gonna move this somewhere more comfortable for you then.” 

Before she could even make a sound, Adler was repositioning her. Slowly, he raised her head from his lap, making sure she could sit up on her own. 

He tugged her up and led her to the bed, supporting most of her weight as she struggled to walk. 

She must have made some sort of panicked noise, because Adler stopped, tilting his head down at her. Whatever he saw on her face made him displeased, and he continued to tug her reluctant body towards the bed. Once she was seated on the left side, he took her face in both of his hands, thumbs brushing over her cheeks. The action caused tears to leak out of her eyes, startling her. 

Unable to do anything but stare up at him from where he towered over her, she waited for his next direction, resigned, despite the disgust curdling in her stomach. 

“What’s wrong?” His hands laced into her hair, holding her in place. 

It takes her a few seconds to process his words, simply staring up at him before her mouth moves without her conscious input. “I’m sorry sir,” her voice cracking on the last word. She looked away from his burning eyes, unable to look at him as she whispered, “Don’t want sex.” unable to hide the repulsed shudder that worked its way through her body. 

“Don’t worry,” he slips his hands out of her hair, though he keeps one on her arm at all times as he pulls the covers back, and she follows him with her foggy eyes. “I won’t touch you like that,” and the last of the remaining tension recedes from her body. 

Adler sat next to her, shifting to the middle of the bed, and gestured for her to follow. Once she shuffled close enough, both of his arms gently maneuvered her so that she was chest to chest with him, laying the entirety of her body on top of him. A large hand pressed her face into the crook of his neck, sliding down and under her hair to gently scruff her neck. 

His other hand pulled the covers up and over them enveloping her in the bed’s comfortable weight and warmth. 

 Uncaring as she heard the sound of his lighter spark, and the fresh scent of a new cigarette filled the room. She allowed herself to float back into subspace, her aching arms tucked close to Adler, their legs intertwined. 

Slowly, the world around her sharpened at the edges. The birds chirped in the background, and there was a vague honking in the distance. Adler’s cigarette had long since burned out, though its smell still lingered. Blinking sleepily, she shifted, attempting to pull away from him. 

The hand on the back of her neck tightened, “What’re you doing?” he murmured, and she felt his lips on the back of her head. Miraculously, it no longer hurt, though her cheeks did heat at his actions. 

“Mmm, gotta– gotta go sleep.” she mumbled, not quite all there yet, though her senses had sharpened, her mind was still fuzzy. The hand he held his cigarette in tightened across her back, fingers digging into her waist. Not hard enough to bruise, but hard enough to make itself known. As if she could have forgotten it. 

“Stay.” it wasn’t a request, more of a demand, but she knew that if she truly wanted to leave, he would let her. Perhaps that was why she didn’t feel bothered by the idea of staying, of letting him keep her. Because she knew, if she stayed, it would be permanent. Russell Adler was not a man who liked to share. 

Despite the heavy hand across her neck, she lifted her head to stare imploringly at Adler. “S’okay?”

Scoffing, Adler rolled his eyes, decisively stating, “If I wanted you gone, you would be gone.” staring into his eyes for another second, she nodded, marveling at the lack of nausea it brought her. 

“Kay.” she settled back into him with a sigh. The hand on her neck moved to the back of her head, running through her hair. The gentle rhythm soothing her to sleep.

And if she joined for sleep every night they were both available? 

Well. That was no one else’s business but theirs. 

Banner by @cafekitsune

[midnight1nk]

So, this week's episode...

[spoilers below cut]

A KAREN EPISODE?! LET'S GOOOOOOOOO

(the following is my live reaction:)

oh, hey Luke, promoting the merch I see. [*gives thumbs-up to the SMG4/Glitch Team*] Good for you :)

Karen, hi! Hmm, not much going on, huh?

Dude, I feel bad for her. Like, can we get her an actual job and more than just minimum wage?

I'm gonna guess and say she took it only because she'll be in low profile from being a former assassin.

can she work in Three's Coffee & Bombs? please please please please please please

It makes total sense for her to take the night shift, her kids would be sleeping

Augh, and it's 6 am when she gets home. Girl, please get some rest! I know it's not gonna be a lot but it's something

also nice nod to the Alarmo clock, gotta be consistent

and i oop

damn, even Shroomy quit

... [*slow tap on the head*]

oh god, I legit thought Karen was gonna give an iPad to Katie, glad I was wrong (NOT THE IPAD KIDS)

[*wheeze*] sorry but I was rewatching the Sonic 3 trailers (bc they're fire) and just seeing Cory speed-dancing on the wall changed everything for me, I can't unsee it now

...FNAF?

Oh I wasn't the only one, ok

As a sibling, I can confirm that siblings share the same braincell

back by unpopular demand [*opens the door*] Me! /ref

never expected the SMG4 Theory episode to come back but here we are :)

[*breakdances epicly*] Mario's brain never stopped dancing since the Mario React episode from last week

"If you joiiiiin, you'll be able to behave your kids. You just gotta vow your life to our religion." Mario, that's a cult

YEAH KAREN, EXACTLY

wait... NONONO GO BACK!!! Do you guys remember the "We Must Kill Mario" episode?

a spaghetti cult...

is Marty still running it or Mario just missed it so much and thought it was a good idea to copy what they did? hmmmm

[*points at the screen*] there it is, I was waiting for it haha

Love that Mario is scared of reading but has no problem reciting anything related to spaghetti (honestly mood) but also it's way funnier if he was like "oh, I just made that shit up on the spot, I can't actually read"

...there isn't any poison, is there?

awwww, you're willing to do anything for your kids

loving family, my one weakness [*dies*]

NOOOOO NOT THE PHOTO

man, Karen, I know you have to discipline your kids and you're frustrated but that wasn't the right thing to say

AND YOU HAD TO SHOW ME THAT, STOP I'M FRAGILE

that's good, she's calmed down and willing to apologize

have you seen the spaghetti? well, now you have :D

HOLY SHIT did they make Minecraft models just for this? Hell yeah!!

A brawl is surely brewing, you're up!

oooh hold up, this animation though, that's fire

you activated a trap card!

ofc Karen's skills come in handy here, it all pays off boys

it's good that Karen acknowledges all of this and sees how awesome her kids are (no, I'm not crying, what are you talking about?)

i'm so normal ← SOBBING

how dare they show me sweet loving family moments? THEY CAN'T KEEP GETTING AWAY WITH THIS

just Karen spending time with her kids at the end is so sweet

... and Mario's still here too, ofc

THE SPAGHETTI GODS HAVE RISEN

everyone has to bow before the all-mighty (yes, even you c'mon)

Congrats to rPrP_99 for your art being featured at the end credits 🎉

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

This was a fantastic episode, bravo! I absolutely loved how in-depth Karen's character was. Being a parent is hard with the ever-lasting question of "how do you give them happiness but also be their guide?"

In a way, Mario did teach her how to parent in his own way, which is very on-brand for him let's be honest here. I find this episode curious because of how different Karen was, compared to Mr Puzzles' dad. (That's right, I'm bringing him into this.)

Mr Puzzles' dad is a complete hypocrite, telling his son not to follow his dream and yet critiquing him for not having creative vision. He neglected his son who ended up watching TV all day and eventually cutting off his own head. (No, we're not going to pass by that.) And this was merely the tip of the iceberg, who knows what else his dad did to his son. Now, I'm not excusing what Mr Puzzles did because (1) we don't have the whole story, and (2) how much accountability Mr Puzzles truly had. Don't get me wrong, I love Mr Puzzles because of his character but I am neutral about him potentially having a redemption arc.

Change is a big step and it takes a lot of bravery to take it. It's one thing for someone to offer help, but it's another to seek it yourself. If Mr Puzzles wants to change, then sure, let him redeem himself. If he doesn't, well then it's the choice he made. That's the reality of it all that some people don't want to change and we have to accept the fact that we can't do anything to change their minds. I truly believe his dad was one of them, he would be a narcissist.

In comparison, Karen is very complex, having to take multiple jobs to support her family. But no matter what, she loves her kids and tries every way to bond with them. Support them. Even if she doesn't fully understand it, she tries and that means a lot more than one could think. Of course, when it comes to kids, you have to earn their trust, and sharing interests is one of the ways to do it. Bonding is meant to be natural and it's what Karen learned. To observe. She admits that she was in the wrong and apologized to them. She said it herself, she was proud of her kids, how they could be so creative and resourceful. And that should be no surprise, they're her kids after all.

So yeah, all of this to say, "and the best mom of the year award goes to..."

ANYWAY, I loved this episode overall and so glad that Karen got to be in the spotlight again. We even got to see some of her assassin skills come into play! Also, that animation in the Minecraft world, that was awesome. Whoever animated it, props to you 👏👏👏 The only critique I have was that the kids in the chaotic parts were a little too much for me, but maybe that's just me idk.

That's all from me! Now, if you excuse me, I'm gonna go back to writing angst :)

[acourtofinkandpapyrus]

A Flower With Petals of Flame: Part fifteen (Eris x Reader)

Warnings: some suggestiveness, kissing, murder, and angst ofc :>

Part fourteen Part sixteen

Tag list: open

A plan is set in motion about how to proceed, but the third dead soul has other plans... :> Also note, I'm exhausted so this isn't up to my normal standards :'D

We all sit on the ground near the tree, not talking.

We had been arguing for over an hour about what to do.

Even though I love Eris, I couldn’t bring him to the afterlife, not yet.  The only reason I was going to bring Azriel was because I would have bound him by a bargain not to tell anyone.

I wouldn’t be comfortable doing the same to Eris.

Sam had suggested we leave without Eris, and that hadn’t gone down well with either of us.

Currently, it looked like the best option was to throw ourselves on Tamlin’s mercy.

I had helped him restore his court, so he actually could provide some protection if my brother decided to come after me.

Mother above, I hate that I have to wonder if my brother will snatch me up, try and kidnap me like others have before.

But do I really want to fuel the fire between my brother and Tamlin?

Normally, I would say no, that only a really shitty person would drive the wedge between them deeper.

But we don’t have a choice.

I sigh, and my friends both turn to look at me.

“I guess we’ll be paying Tamlin a visit.”  I grumble, getting to my feet.

Sam’s eye twitched in irritation.  “I still think we should head back to Afterlife and regroup.  We don’t have any resources here.”

I stop, thinking about it.

“How about you go back, and we stay here, scope things out on the ground?”  I suggest, letting him decide where he thinks he would be the most helpful.

I can see the decision grating on his nerves, not wanting to leave me alone here, even if this was the place I had lived for many years.

And died, to be fair.

“... Fine, I’ll go back and regroup, but if anything happens, you come back immediately.”  He said, his eyes fierce as they met mine.

I smirked.  “I’ll think about it.”

He groaned, rolling his eyes.  “Please?”

Giving in, I nod, and he relaxes a bit.

I walk over to Sam, and Eris stiffens up behind me as I take the Astral from sam.

After I have it, I make quick work of creating Wyrdmarks with my magic.

Nehemia had come up the idea of combining different faerie magics with the wyrdmarks.  We had discovered that we could use this combination to travel between worlds.

Of course, only those closest to us knew about this.

And now Eris did too.  I finished creating the wyrdmarks with darkness, and a dark abstract portal came into vision.

Sam gave me a little nod, and reluctantly gave Eris one too before stepping through.

I quickly closed the portal, turning back to Eris, whose eyes were a bit wide.

“I’m guessing you know that you can never tell anyone about that?”  I tease as I walk up next to him.

He nods, blinking away his surprise.  “Yeah, I guess I just wasn’t expecting… that.”

It takes a minute for me to realize what he means, and when I do I let out a snort.  “Mother above, did you think I was going to kill him?”  I ask, gaping at my friend.

He blushed lightly, hissing, “Well, how else do you get to the afterlife?”

We both stare at each other for a moment before we both burst into laughter.

I wheeze, saying, “Oh yes Sam, let me stab you real quick!  I’ll follow in a minute!”

We both laugh harder, and it takes a few minutes for us to regain our composure, stifling the little snorts that threatened to turn back into rambunctious laughter.

“Well, at least I know why you weren’t pushing harder for us to bring you there.”  I remark as we start walking off towards the spring court.

He blushed, and I wondered what he was thinking as he looked away.

We walked the rest of the way, talking about random things.  I told him about the rest of my close friends in the afterlife, and he told me about different things that had happened to him.

“So you have basically been trying to kill Beron while heckleing my brother?”  I ask, and he snorts.

“When you put it like that, it sounds much less impressive than it actually is.”  He pouts, and I smirk.

“You never fail to impress me dear.”  I say in a sultry tone, and he stills for a moment.

He shakes his head slightly. “I’m not playing Y/n.”

My face splits into a grin.  We always used to do this, this little game.

“Why, I don’t know what you’re talking about dear.”  I croon, swaying my hips a little bit as I walk.

In seconds he has me pinned against a tree, kissing me passionately as his hands gripped my hips firmly, making me moan into him.

He pulled away, and I whimpered at the lack of contact.  “Hey, I love you, okay?”  He says comfortingly as he pet my head.

I sighed, feeling worn out from everything that had happened today.  “I know- I just… I want to try again.  I want a fresh start.  I want it to be just you and me.”  I confess, hugging him tightly

He relaxes, holding me close and burying himself in my hair.  “We will.  We’ll have all the time in the world.  But first we have to get you somewhere safe, okay?”

I sigh.  “I know.  I hate it though.”

He laughed, and my heart warmed slightly.

We continued our way toward the spring court, and it wasn’t long until the scent of cold air and crisp leaves changed into roses and pollen.

It hits me that I scent something else on the air, a tangy, coppery smell.

My heart gutters, and I can tell Eris scents it too, because he suddenly holds me closer.

“We need to go.”  He whispers in my ear, his voice soft, but grip strong.

I shake my head, pulling away from him.

He obviously doesn’t like letting go, but he does, following closely behind me.

The dead are everywhere, torn limb from limb, barely recognisable as once being fae.

 I force myself to calm my screaming mind, keeping it blank as I assess.

The blood was fresh, the bodies warm.

And if I listen very closely, I swear I can hear screaming in the distance, coming from… From the direction of The Manor.

“They’re still here- we need to go help!”  I say, running through the field of the fallen.

I expect to hear Eris respond, but I don’t.

Stopping, I turn to check if he’s following me.

Instead I see a woman with long red hair holding a knife to his throat, Eris’s eyes blown wide with fear.

And that’s when what feels like a string attached my soul decides to pull taught. the mating bond snapping into place with Eris.

Fuck.

Fuckity fuck fuck.

[hyukassubi]

SUBI'S EXTRAVAGANT REVIEW ON GROSS!

A couple months ago, I have read, dare I say, the most dramatic fic I've ever laid my two eyes upon (in a good way!!).

It was (nearly) everything I thought I would NEVER enjoy: situationships, flawed main character, drama.

Yet here I am... Absolutely pleased with the drama-filled, humourous rollercoaster of a romance that supposedly had no chance of growing into something more.

Warning, this review is bound to contain spoilers so if you haven't read @moamidzyism 's 'Gross!' yet, read it here! Now that that's out of the way, ON WITH THE REVIEW!!!

Yes, you can like unlikable characters, actually!!

Never would I've thought in a million years I'd end up rooting for a 'bad' main character. I assume a good chunk of us have been shoved in the face countless of times by the media what 'good' main characters are supposed to look like. Like we were programmed by society to like the good heroes and pull out our stakes and pitchforks for the evil villains.

I was in a reading rut for the longest time (I still am tbh 😭😭) and I always thought perhaps the stuff I was reading didn't fit me anymore? Was it the genre? The writing style? No. None of that. I was simply bored of always reading 'perfect' stories with 'good' characters and expecting plot lines.

It is genuinely so very astounding how, in my lifetime, I stumbled upon a 'badly written' y/n and still ended up enjoying her journey and the overall plot of the fic. Moral of the story aside, 'Gross!' has absolutely helped shift my perspective on 'reading what I enjoy' and 'enjoying what I'm reading'.

Character dynamics

I love how everyone has their own little friend group and super top secret bestie groupchat convos, definitely adds to the drama and complexity of the story as a whole.

All the friend groups are so different and although the 'yeonjun-taehyun-yuck!yn' gc is my favorite of them all (a buncha sassy silver-tongued fellas (ESP YUCK!YN, what's not there to love?) I LOVE THE 'B🐶s WHO BRUNCH' SO MUCH TOOOOOO.

I'm not into itzy but Chaeryoeng and Yeji y'all, Chaeryoeng and Yeji UGHH THEY'RE SO SUPPORTIVE AND LOVING ESP TO GROSS!YN, TRULY RAISING THE STANDARDS FOR FEMALE FRIENDSHIPS AND BEING A GIRL'S GIRL

I can definitely learn a thing or two from them too, growing up as someone who's always taught to 'love someone for their gains' which can be partially true but that's not the trajectory of healthy friendships!! You can be besties with a complete Mary sue but if you're not they're biggest hypegirl then literally what's the point????

Notable scenes that devoured, left no crumbs and did the dishes!!

SOOBIN, CHAERYOENG AND YEJI HAVING A JOINT SLAY TOWARDS THE END OF THE SERIES 😭😭😭😭

Sungchan being right but we all still mutually despise his character in the fic purely because he's Gross!y/n's ex... Something I never knew I needed until now. Ex-boyfriends are typically portrayed as candy-stealing 🍑 holes (which he was!!) but to have them actually spit facts that are right and raw and brutal but he's right???? My new favorite trope ✍️the 'bad but right but we still hate him' Ex✍️

Every. Single. Kai and Yuck!yn cameo. Couple goals. *Throws hands in the air* COUPLE GOALS!! IM TRULY NOT EVEN TRYING TO BE BIASED, THEY CAN BE CHARACTERS IN A NOVEL AND I'D STILL FIND THEM SO SO CUTE!!

GROSS!YN HATE TRAIN RUN BY YUCK!YN GODDD THOSE WERE ALL SO SO FUNNY I'D EITHER MASSAGE MY FORHEAD OR LET OUT A WHEEZE

THE GC INTERVIEWS!! THE GC INTERVIEWS ‼️‼️‼️‼️ (ps, Fay you wrote yourself so we'll here 🫶🫶🫶 talented author AND interviewer wowowow your talent is BEYOND me 👏👏👏👏👏👏)

Gross!YN'S miscellaneous items: Spotify playlist, notes about YJ and THE BLOODY VOICE CALL GAAAAAAAAAH

...THE MOMENT YOU'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR!

This segment does not need any further explanation.

I loved making the 'video essay' on 'Yuck!' A couple months back and so ofc I'm back making yet another compilation (2 WHOLE MINUTES BTW) for this lovely work indeed 🫶🫶🫶 (Fay, if you're seeing this, take this as a late birthday present ^3^)

(if your guys' short attention spans lasted all the way to the very end, you'd see what I'd be on for the next couple of months moving forth nyehheheheEHEHEHEHEHE MUAHAHHAHA TYUNNING HERE I COMEEEEEEEE)

(PS TYSM FOR READING THIS REVIEW OKAY BYEE 😄🏃‍♀️💨)

[nerdieforpedro]

Beginners Guide to your Fanfic Tag game

I was tagged by @wannab-urs and @magpiepills

I didn't forget, I just had to write it down and save it in drafts because sometimes Tumblr will let me do stuff and other times not. 👀

Anyway, you pick however many of your fics you think readers should read first to get to know your work or what you would recommend to them. I think the two lovelies above picked five each so I'll do the same. 🫡 I put in bold themes that can be found in each fic, but do check the warnings. You picks as many as you like. 😄

Drops of Sugar - This ongoing series started with a two part fic that I wrote with Joel Miller (no outbreak - he deserves to be happy especially in my delusions) and Layla (OFC). It morphed into vignettes that I started writing about different points in their relationship. It's easy, breezy and beautiful. Domestic fluff and some smut.

Pleasure Principle - This was my first series (still ongoing) Dave York and Kiara were drawn to each other, have a lot of sex and are trying to figure out feelings. This series in particular had readers point out things that I didn't realize I included. 👀 Like not only a B&E but also that she was not mad at it. Which should indicate how twisted these two are. Also a domestic Dave, but manipulative with groceries and laundry? Smut, angst and feelings.

The Long Road to Together - My longest one shot (16k people like hydrate and have a bathroom break) to date. It features Tommy Miller (no outbreak) and Velora (OFC). My take on a friends to lovers trope that had a few twists because they're both messy. They need Joel and Sarah to be the voices of reason. Joel also has his own sub-plot, becuase Tess. Smut, fluff and angst.

Sard'ika Sessions - My neat six sexy sessions the reader has with Din Djarin, The Mandalorian. Is there smut in every session? Yes. Did I make it gradually increase? Sure and added some non-canon Mandalorian lore that I'm sure is true (in my delusions) which would be in chapter four. There are feelings because sometimes I stick feelings in between the sweaty bits. One thing in this series I did focus on was communication between Din and the reader given how their relationship starts and progresses. I was really happy when people commented and picked up on that aspect. Also a lot of beskar and hands. I in particular enjoyed writing the final session for the cameos I wove in, the blindfold, Din being a complete menace (Maker Yes!! 🙌) and a phrase I didn't realize I stuck in there, "not giving two wookies about what they said or did." 🤣 SMUT, feelings, dash of angst, fluff. (in that order)

Weddings 101 with Dieter - This is neck and neck with Sard'ika Sessions as my favorite. I enjoy all my work (why else would I write it?) But this holds a special place because it's ridiculous, the premise is flimsy and it's just fun. Maya (OFC) needs a lift, Dieter gives her one, there a villa. The goat is a supporting character and has Dieter's back no matter what. Oscar Isaac is slandered and injured (I'm sorry, but I was giggle wheezing while writing his parts it only gets worse) might be an enemy of Dieter's at this point. Oh and there's a wedding? Did we mention that? It's not that important. The weird cloud drum sexy dream I wrote for Dieter is what matters. Priorities people! I envisioned this as the rom-com that I've never seen Pedro in. That's why I wrote it. Not that all this would ever make it into one such movie. 🤓 My attempts at comedy, fluffy as a cloud or a goat, eventual smut, some drug use, future Oscar Isaac mishaps/slander, Dieter's MOUTH AND HANDS. Whatever else I think to put in this thing.

No pressure tags: @musings-of-a-rose @rhoorl @morallyinept @trulybetty @pedroshotwifey @megamindsecretlair @maggiemayhemnj @pamasaur @linzels-blog @avastrasposts @secretelephanttattoo @legendary-pink-dot @i-own-loki @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @gasolinerainbowpuddles @gwendibleywrites @undercoverpena @sin-djarin @soft-persephone @soft-girl-musings @theywhowriteandknowthings

My bad I tagged so many of you, I wanna know about all your stuff. I'm greedy! 😆

@angelofsmalldeath-codeine I know what you're gonna say, but I'm curious what you think of this list. 👀

[the-kittens-of-vol-tron]

The most recent post you reblogged about Keith knowing Spanish would be so cool to see in writing if you are willing 💛

Ofc <3

Post found here! All credits go to @vldsideblog

A/N

I didn't write Spanish since I don't feel confident in my own Spanish skills to translate things properly. If anyone who knows Spanish better is interested in helping me translate I will edit this work/add more to it!

-----

Keith froze, ignoring how fast his heart was beating. How badly his lungs demanded air. He must have misheard Lance. There was no way he just said what he thought he said.

Lance stopped walking, turning slightly to look at where Keith was glued to. They were leaving the training deck, all of them at the point of exhaustion. "You good, Mullet?"

Keith met his eyes, finally allowing himself to take a strained breath. "What did you say?" He wheezed out.

Lance blinked at himself before sending him a mischievous smile. Repeating the words with confidence. The words fell off his tongue with ease. He walked out of the room, that smile still on his face.

Keith ran his hands through his sweat-damped hair. He wouldn't call himself fluent in Spanish. He could hold something that resembled a conversation when needed. He knew enough. Enough to get by. Enough to have basic conversations. Enough to understand what Lance said to him.

---

"Shiro." Keith entered the older man's room. Not even bother to knock.

Shiro's upper torse was propped up on his pillows as he read a book Pidge managed to translate into English. "Oh, sure you can come in Keith." Shiro's voice was neutral as he flipped to the next page. His energy was relaxed, winding down for the night.

Keith ignored Shiro's response and locked the door as soon as it closed. "Lance called me pretty."

Shiro's face remained staring at the pages, but his eyes were no longer reading the words. "...okay." His head tilted up some. "Just randomly?"

Keith nodded, his eyes looking everywhere but Shiro. "I don't think he wanted me to hear it."

"What makes you say that?" Shiro had resumed reading. Keith felt a sense of comfort over the informal side of Shiro. When he lived with Shiro and Adam, Shiro would always read before bed. Even if you were talking with him, he would remain reading. Listening but reading, as long as the topic wasn't serious.

"He said it in Spanish."

Shiro paused, his face scrunched up a bit in thought. He remained like that for half a minute before he leaned over and grabbed a small piece of paper from his desk. Marking his place in the book before sitting up. The topic was silently deemed serious, and Shiro patted the spot next to him on the bed.

Keith took the invitation and sat down next to him, waiting for Shiro's response.

"You're sure he called you pretty?"

Keith nodded his eyes on the floor by his shoes. "I had him repeat it just to make sure."

"And he said it in Spanish?"

Keith nodded again.

Shiro chuckled slightly, "so he assuming you don't know Spanish?"

"I guess so."

Shiro asked him a couple more questions. How he said it, the smile he wore on his face, anything to help determine if this was just a one-time thing or if the Blue Paladin was actually flirting with him.

Keith exited Shiro's room an hour later. They had determined an off-handed comment isn't enough to try and guess Lance's intentions. But Keith was going to keep listening for more.

---

He didn't have to wait long. The next day, as he and Lance headed back from the pool he caught the other boy staring at him. "What are you looking at?" Keith's hands instantly went up to touch his own face. Assuming something was on his face.

Lance rolled his eyes, crossing his arms as he looked at something else. He mumbled something in Spanish under his breath. His voice held a snarky tone. But it was void of any true malice or mockery.

Keith rolled his eyes, trying to keep his breathing and composure under control. The words replayed in his mind the entire walk to his room. Your hair looks soft.

---

These comments became a daily occurrence. Always said as a "negative" thing or Lance trying to "poke the bear" as Hunk called it. Maybe if Keith had no understanding of Spanish he would be upset. His mind would be cycling over what Lance would be saying. He would be driving himself up a wall, unable to figure it out.

But Keith knew, growing up in Texas gave him the basics. Plus, Adam would use Spanish around the house, especially when he was talking to himself out loud through a problem or project. So Lance's "subtle" flirting wasn't having the effect he thought it was.

Keith had memorized every sentence. Every compliment, every word, he tattooed them onto his brain. Lance's voice was a constant echo in his mind.

You're so pretty.

Your hair looks soft.

What I wouldn't give to kiss you.

You have my heart.

You actually make a mullet look good.

I want you to be mine.

He never seemed to run out of compliments. It made sense why he stared at him more now. It wasn't because of the rivalry. It was never because of that.

Keith sighed, the only frustrating thing about this was neither of them seemed willing to make a move. Lance seemed content with keeping his advances and flirtatious remarks quiet. Reserved for himself. But if Keith ever responded or made an indication that he understood, how would Lance react? Would he be mad? Embarrassed?

Keith was already embarrassed. He missed his chance to clear the air the first couple of compliments. But that was weeks ago. If Keith said anything now- He shook his head. There was nothing he could do about it now.

Dinner went well, they were stopped on a planet for the alliance. Lance still made his comments, keeping up the façade of "rivalry" but Keith believed everyone could see through it.

"You all are welcome to join us and watch the sunset! It sets once every six months and it is truly spectacular." Their host said, their voice heightened with excitement. The paladins began to make their way to the viewing area, Keith and Lance sitting next to each other.

It was a spectacular sight, three suns began to set at once. These colors mix together. Sending a purplish haze over the planet. Keith was in awe over the sight, he nearly missed the words Lance mumbled next to him. Almost as pretty as you.

He took a deep breath, every fiber of his being begging him to react. Say something, do something. He was always content waiting but right now? He couldn't. He glanced at Lance who quickly pretended he was watching the sunset the entire time. Keith forced his voice out, Lance was never going to confess himself. Keith had to break the ice. "You're the pretty one." He was hardly above a whisper. Maybe he was scared. Maybe he didn't want to ruin the energy around them. Maybe he wanted the words to just be between them.

Lance looked at him, his eyes filled with anxiety and worry. He released an uncomfortable laugh as his brain slowly slid the pieces together. "You feeling okay there, Mullet?" He swallowed hard, sweat beading around his hairline.

Keith smiled, more to himself than the boy next to him having a crisis. "I thought you liked my mullet?"

Lance continued to stare at him, unmoving. Keith was concerned he stopped breathing for a moment before Lance laughed. His laughter echoed off the space around them, unaware of everyone's eyes on him. "You've been understanding me this entire time?!" He leaned forward some, placing his hands on Keith's shoulders.

"Yeah," Keith could feel his skin burn. Lance's hands felt cool against him, a perfect contrast to what he was feeling.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Lance cocked his head to the side in a puzzling manner.

Keith shrugged, "I didn't know what to say."

Lance groaned in frustration. "So you have just been letting me flirt with you for weeks? And didn't think to say anything?"

Keith nodded, his throat tightening a bit.

"Why?"

"I was...shy?"

Lance chuckled, a sound Keith was in love with. "You're kind of stupid, you know that?"

Keith scoffed, "I'm not stupid."

Lance smiled, "you're not. I apologize." His eyes fell to Keith's lips before shifting back up to his eyes. "I meant everything I said."

"I hoped you did. Since you were unaware I could understand you."

Lance chuckled again, "I shouldn't have assumed." The suns finally went down, casting night over them. Leaving the two of them in their own world, each of them leaning a bit closer.

-----

They def kissed lololol

I hope you liked it <33333