#if they say something different happened you're not wrong. It's just that you have different ideas of how things happened

[strwberri-milk]

can i request the boys thinking mc is cheating bc she’s been acting off and hanging with other people, then they confront her but learn later that it’s something else that’s been going on (like her wanting to keep a problem hidden from them) angsty or fluffy ending it’s up to you im just craving angst 😓

Zayne doesn't want to directly confront you. He's terrified that somehow, he'll mess everything up and that right now, not knowing is better than confirming his fear. He'll just continue observing you for a bit, trying to figure out if there's something that can definitively point towards you actually having an affair. Your behaviour is strange but he won't feel too concerned until you start actively pulling affection away from him. That's when he's going to really start panicking. He doesn't know what he's done or said to make you take such a drastic step in your relationship and this is absolutely going to devastate him.

He'll talk to you one evening after you come home late. He tries to open it up by telling you that if it's something he's said or done to you then he's sorry and he promises he'll do whatever it takes to fix things between the two of you. It's you, and it's always been you. He can't even fathom being with anybody that isn't you. He'll ramble a little for once, not really able to accurately use his words as he tries to express how much he loves you.

You realise very quickly where he's going with all of this, immediately shutting him down as you tell him that you aren't seeing somebody else. He listens with bated breath to try and comprehend everything you're telling him, praying that you aren't lying to him because if you were, it'd definitely break him.

You'd probably have to ruin the surprise if you wanted him to feel fully secure after this conversation, especially since you also were hanging off of people when you normally don't seem to. He might feel a little insecure about your relationship for a while before settling into the routine again with you, but as long as you're wholly honest with him it'll pass fairly quickly.

Xavier wants to follow you around but he also knows it'd piss you off if he did. He'll just start paying more attention to events when the two of you are together and even more attention to things if it seems you're purposefully not inviting him to something. He's trying to understand why and what for, not wanting to directly accuse you but his jealousy definitely ramps up.

You'd have to talk to him as he slowly starts to escalate, becoming more pissy if you have plans with friends or when he responds poorly to you taking calls in his presence. He doesn't really say too much but he does make it very clear just how displeased he is with the look on his face or the way he practically grabs you whenever you're doing things with him.

He gets a little rougher with you overall - not in a painful way, in a distracted, irritated way. He doesn't want to hurt you on purpose and typically you don't really respond to this difference in pressure because it's nothing crazy but you can tell that he's starting to really internalise everything that's happening around him. When you do talk to him he listens with a furrow in his brow, trying to figure out if you're telling him the truth, or this is some elaborate lie for you to throw him off your scent.

He believes you pretty quickly but he is also going to be really skeevy about letting you do things without him for a bit. He just wants to spend time with you after all and after all this emotional turmoil you owe him a few stress-free dates.

Rafayel is not pleased. He makes it clear the second he thinks something is wrong by being colder and less affectionate with you. He isn't wholly above following you and figuring out who you're hanging out with, trying to figure out if there really is a chance that you are trying to have an affair.

You'd get some emotional whiplash from how differently he's acting, how he's making it clear that you've wronged him somehow but he isn't going to talk to you about it. He's avoidant, waiting for you to admit the truth. He's also patient, which means you could be iced out for weeks if you decide not to talk to him about what's happening.

He might spoil the surprise for himself if he goes fully into surveillance after which he'd just tell you that he figured out what you were hiding from him. You'd be a little disappointed but also more concerned as to how he managed to figure it out without tipping you off. He won't tell you at all about how he got the information - just that he did.

If he decides not to stalk you a little you'd have to ask him why he's so mad at you. He'd tell you that he's just treating you the same way you've been treating him, and that as far as he's concerned, this is deserved. You'd have to tell him the truth and why you've been hiding all this information from him - after which he will brighten up significantly. He'll say something about how he's never doubted you, yadda yadda yadda but he's definitely more clingy now than before from his nerves finally starting to settle.

Sylus doesn't want to monitor you either and decides to give you the benefit of the doubt. He's fairly secure in your relationship and knows that he hasn't done anything to make you want to cheat but he does feel himself faltering if you're becoming prone to laughing at your phone or trying to hide it from him. He won't ask for it but you can see that he's starting to get suspicious.

He would leave it alone until you reveal to him your surprise. By then he's still feeling fairly anxious but when you reveal that your behaviour was all just a result of you trying to plan something for him then he'll relax a little, thanking you for the effort you went through. You can tell that he's very glad that you've finally come clean when he holds your hand tightly, practically clinging to you as he thanks you.

He'll plan some more elaborate dates for you after the reveal, making it clear that he's missed your attention being solely on him. You don't really mind though since he's basically throwing money at you, spoiling you silly and reminding you just how much he's willing to do for you.

[shockercoco]

Better Late Than Never

Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings - fluff, some kissing, Valentine’s Day shenanigans, flirty!Bucky

Word count - 2167

a/n - Happy Valentine’s Day everyone, especially to all my fellow single readers! I’ve somehow ended up in my Sebastian Stan era again, so I thought why fight it. It’s been a while since I’ve written an imagine, and I’m feeling a little rusty, but I hope you all enjoy and thanks in advance for reading :)

“What’s got you smiling so much?” You ask Wanda as she sits down across from you.

It was Wanda’s idea to meet up for lunch after finding out about the rough morning you had, and she had also told you that she had some good news to share that might cheer you up. 

You had woken up late for work, couldn’t find your car keys, and when you reached the halfway point on your journey to work, you realized you didn’t have your phone. Today just wasn’t your day.

“Remember how I said I had some good news?” Wanda asks, her smile huge as she leans in and rests her elbows on the table. When you nod, she continues. “Well, Vision surprised me at work and finally asked me to be his girlfriend! He brought me flowers and everything.”

Yeah, today just really wasn’t your day.

“That’s really great, Wanda, but how exactly is that supposed to cheer me up?” you question, giving her a small smile to soften your words.

“Because you were the one who suggested that I should confess my feelings to him, and you’ve pretty much been with me every step of the way,” Wanda tells you. Her expression then turns into confusion. “Is something wrong?”

You honestly were really proud and happy for Wanda, and if this were any other time of the year, your reaction would’ve been different. But it’s not. Valentine's Day is at the end of the week and you just want the week to be over with.

While you were walking down the street on your way to the restaurant, you walked past a woman getting proposed to in the park. While you were waiting for the light to change in order for you to cross the street, you saw a couple making out. As you walked past a street vendor selling flowers, you overheard the vendor making conversation with a man who was apparently looking for the right flowers to buy his crush. Now, Wanda hits you with this.

“No, nothing’s wrong,” you quickly shake your head. “I’ve just had a weird day.”

She looks at you for a moment longer, not fully believing you. “Hmm, there’s something else. Tell me.”

You let out a laugh. “Wanda, I’m fine. It just…it’s nothing really. I’m good.”

“It’s just what?” Wanda asks. When you hesitate again, she adds, “We’re not ordering until you tell me what’s up,” she smirks at you. 

A small groan leaves you, before you speak up, “It’s just that Bucky hasn’t asked me to be his valentine yet, and this is our first Valentine’s Day as a couple. It stupid, I know. I shouldn’t even be upset.”

“No, it’s not stupid. Have you mentioned how you feel to him?”

“No, I didn’t think I had to since he’s always surprising me with gifts any other time of the year. I just figured this would just happen naturally, but nothing yet.”

“I’m sure you have nothing to worry about. After all, it’s still the beginning of the week. Who knows, he could just be waiting for the actual day to come,” Wanda says, and when you don’t say anything, she places a hand on top of yours and continues, “I’d honestly be surprised if Bucky does absolutely nothing for you. Everyone knows how obsessed he is with you.”

That makes you smile. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I am, and when Valentine’s Day comes and he still hasn’t asked you to be his valentine, call me, I’ll hunt him down,” Wanda tells you right as a waitress walks up to the table to take your guys’ order. She catches the end of Wanda’s sentence and has a confused, yet amused look on her face. “Sorry, just relationship problems.”

The waitress laughs as she says, “Don’t worry I understand.”

Later that night when you're at Bucky’s place for a movie night the two of you had planned the week before, you can feel Bucky looking at you repeatedly while your eyes are still on the screen. You’re cuddled up into his side with his arm wrapped around you, but you still notice the constant shifting of his head.

You finally give in and look up at him. “Is there something on my face?” you ask him, your tone teasing.

Bucky’s confused with your question. “No, why?”

“Because you keep looking at me.”

“What, I can’t admire my own girlfriend anymore?”

“It feels more like staring than anything,” you tell him, and Bucky just laughs.

“Well, then I’m sorry,” Bucky apologizes as he places a hand on your cheek to lift your head up. He leans down to place a gentle kiss on your lips, a smile still tugging on the corner of his lips. When he pulls away, he still keeps the distance between the two of you small as he looks into your eyes.

“Seriously, what is it?” you whine as you playfully shove him away from you, causing him to laugh. He knows how much you hate it when he does that. “Is there something bugging you?” you casually slide in the question, slightly hoping that he would use this time to ask you to be his valentine.

“No, there isn’t,” he laughs and pulls away, turning his attention back to the screen, but keeping his arm still wrapped around you. “I’m done, I promise.” 

He misses the slight drop in your expression, but you quickly fix your face before looking back at the tv as well.

As the week goes on, you try to focus on more important things, but as Friday continues to get closer, your hope continues to diminish. You and Bucky continue to text normally throughout the week, but when Thursday afternoon comes Bucky calls you to let you know that he’ll be going on a mission the next day. On Valentine’s Day.

“I’m sorry it’s such short notice, doll, but Steve needs me,” you hear Bucky softly tell you through the phone. You’re sitting on a chair in front of your window watching people pass by with Bucky on speaker.

“Oh, no it’s okay, I understand,” you say, trying to keep the disappointment out of your voice. “How long will you be gone?”

There’s a moment of silence on the other end, before Bucky speaks, “A couple of weeks.”

Weeks? 

Your heart drops at his answer and you feel your throat start to tighten. You quickly mute yourself to clear the tears from your throat, before unmuting.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” he asks, noticing your delayed response. 

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be? There’s people out there that need you,” you speak up.

You catch sight of your neighbor’s boyfriend walking up to her house with a bouquet of flowers in his hand. You momentarily forget you’re on the phone and unintentionally let out a frustrated sigh at the sight, catching Bucky’s attention.

“Listen, I can probably get out of it. I’m sure Steve doesn’t need me that bad, there’s a whole team of people that are available to help out.”

A sad laugh leaves you. “Bucky it’s fine, I promise. He’s your best friend and he specifically asked you because he wants you, so go.”

“If you insist,” you hear Bucky sigh “I know you’re upset, though, so I promise to make it up to you when I get back, okay?”

That makes you crack a smile. “Okay.”

When the next day rolls around, you take your time getting out of bed. Unfortunately, you had the day off today, which of course you would’ve been happy about under different circumstances. 

You decide to keep yourself busy and do some chores to pass time, but by the time you’re done cleaning every crevice and doing laundry, it’s only four in the afternoon.

At some point, Wanda calls to check up on you and asks if you wanted her and Vision to come over and have dinner with you. Vision was planning on cooking for just the two of them, but he told you he had no problem making more. Although the two of them both repeatedly insisted they didn’t mind making the drive to your place, you declined.

It felt wrong to intrude on a special night like tonight. 

After telling Wanda and Vision that you would just order in, the two of you finally end the call.

You weren’t currently that hungry so you decided to just order something later. You make yourself comfortable on the couch and decide to put on a tv show you’ve been wanting to watch. 

A couple episodes later, you finally start to get hungry, and right when you’re about to place an order, your doorbell rings. You shake your head thinking it was just Vision and Wanda coming to share their food, but as you look through the peephole to see Bucky standing outside holding a bouquet of flowers and a stuffed animal you had been wanting, your heart drops along with your jaw.

You look down at your outfit and contemplate quickly changing, but decide against it.

“Wh-what are you doing here? I thought you had to go on a mission?” you ask when you open the door.

“Surprise!” Bucky greets you with a bright smile. He leans in to give you a kiss, before whispering, “Happy Valentine's Day, sweetheart.”

Bucky can see that you’re still shocked and at a loss for words, so he just laughs as he pushes past you and makes his way inside. You close the door behind him and watch as he makes his way into the kitchen and lays the flowers on the counter along with the stuffed animal.

“As much as I’m happy that you’re here, why are you here?” your eyebrows are furrowed as you lean against the counter, your arms folded across your chest. 

Bucky sends you a smirk as he quickly puts the flowers in water before making his way over to you. He places his hands on your waist as closes the distance between you two.

“You didn’t really think that I’d miss our first Valentine’s Day together, did you?”

“I didn’t even think you remembered, I mean you haven’t said anything about it all week,” you tell him.

“Yeah, Wanda told me you were a little upset,” Bucky mentions and your eyes widen.

“What a traitor, she wasn’t supposed to say anything,” you say slightly embarrassed as you look off to the side. Then a thought hits you, and you look back at him. “Wait, did you just come here because of what Wanda told you?”

“No, I was already planning on coming here tonight.”

“But what about your mission?” you ask, still confused.

Bucky smiles. “There never was a mission, doll. I made it up because I wanted to surprise you. You really thought I would spend today with Steve instead of you?”

“...Well, he is your best friend.”

“That’s true,” Bucky nods, grabbing your hands in his and placing kisses on your knuckles, “but, you’re my best girl,” he whispers as he looks into your eyes, causing butterflies in your stomach and your face to heat up.

What were you upset about again?

A chuckle leaves Bucky as he watches you shyly smile as you look away.

“You could’ve at least said something this whole week,” you tell him.

“I know, I know,” he admits, “but I was trying to get everything together.”

“Get what together?” you ask.

Bucky stays silent for a moment as if trying to find the right words to say. Then he says, “I want you to move in with me.”

Your eyes widen and your breath hitches as you stare back at him. “What?”

Maybe you inhaled too many chemicals while cleaning.

“I want you to move in with me,” Bucky repeats. “I know we’ve been dating for less than a year and I completely understand if this is too fast for you, but there’s plenty of room for you at my place and I would be much happier if I was able to have you next to me when I wake up every morning.”

Oh. 

You blink.

“You’re serious?” you ask, even though there's no indication on his face to tell you he’s lying. 

Bucky lets go of your hands to place his on either side of your face. “Completely. Like I said, you’re my best girl.” He watches a smile slowly form on your lips. “So, what do you say?”

“Yes,” you say, and Bucky’s grin grows wider, but you hold your hand up. “Don’t start smiling yet, I wasn’t finished.”

Bucky quickly fixes his face and tries to suppress his excitement. “Of course, continue.”

“I say yes, only if you agree to never pull anything like this ever again.”

“Ever?” Bucky repeats, raising an eyebrow.

“Bucky!” you playfully hit his chest.

“I’m just kidding,” he laughs, leaning in to kiss you. Then he pulls away just enough to murmur against your lips, “I’ll just wait until you forget.”

Like what you see? check out my masterlist :)

[honeyhotteoks]

₊ ⊹ ⟡ together; alternate version (정윤호 ♡ j.yh)

yunho's been away for tour, only this time, when he comes home you have very different news to share.

style: bullet drabble (alternative sequel to losing time) pairing: non idol!yunho x fem!reader word count: 2.5k tags/warnings: fluff, light angst, all things pregnancy and babies, light smut with breeding kink/preg kink (yunho is v happy she's pregnant essentially lmao) notes: this was fully inspired by an anon in my inbox who asked what would have happened in my short fic together if the news reader had to share was a pregnancy and how would yunho react to that. i don't take fic requests, but i love babyfic and this just turned into a little bullet and drabble fic i thought i would share with everyone.

[masterlist]

at the end of losing time, yunho leaves for tour and it’s a long one. a full two, two and a half months abroad in europe while you’re left at home in a different time zone missing him terribly. 

you find out the truth while he’s away, only a few weeks into tour when you start getting sick. it’s not something you can just spring on him while he’s on tour, it would distract him, it would stress him out, and frankly you just don’t know what to do. what decision to make. 

you know how you feel about yunho, and you knows how he feels about you….  but this type of news always changes everything. 

so you keep it to yourself, and you do your best to make it through. 

only when yunho does return.... you’re showing. it's not a lot, just the beginning stages of a curve at three months, but it's starting to be apparent if you’re wearing fitted clothing and it's not something you would be able to keep from him if he touched you. 

so when he comes home, finally, and texts you, asking if he can send a car to bring you to the studio, you want to say yes so badly but you can’t. 

this isn't a conversation you can have in front of anyone else so you say no. and you’re honestly terrified, so you lie, just a little white lie. you tell him you can't come and that you’re not feeling well, you’ll see him another day soon.

anxiety is fully eating you up and you’re spiraling, and you don’t know it but your texts fully freaked yunho out. he's convinced that you’re going to break up with him and waited until after tour to do it, and he's sick about it.

after dance practice, he sneaks out and comes to your place.

all of a sudden hes there, he’s knocking on your door. 

you thought you had more time, you still don’t know how to tell him, what to say- but he’s there 

and -

You're a mess. Your hair is tangled from running your fingers through it again and again, and you're pretty sure this sweatshirt has a coffee stain on it, but he's here and no matter what you have to face this.

He knocks again, a soft rap on the door, "y/n, please let me in,"

"Just a second," You call back, knotting your hair back into a bun and kicking on your slippers. Your stomach rolls with nervousness, but at least, you think, it's not morning sickness.

When you finally pull open the door your hands are trembling, and Yunho's pained expression doesn't help.

"Hey," You manage.

"Hi," His eyes dart over you, a crease of concern between his brows, "can I come in?"

You move to let him in immediately, stepping back into the apartment, "Sorry, of course,"

When you shut the door tight and flip the lock, silence fills the space, but somewhere within you, you find the strength to turn around and look up at him.

He shifts from foot to foot, clearly off balance at the strange discomfort between you, and finally he sighs, "Whatever it is," he says, "I know we can work it out."

A strike of panic lances up your spine at the thought he might already know what words are sitting like lead on your tongue, but all you can manage is a soft, "What?"

"You're avoiding me," His hands flex and release, "we haven't seen each other in months, and now I'm here, and you haven't even smiled. I don't think you're sick, I think something's wrong."

"Yunho," Your voice cracks, and you can feel tears threatening your eyes already. You wanted to hold it together, but this is already too hard.

He swallows tightly and keeps talking, his own voice laced with nerves, "I know two months was a long time, and I know I haven't been the best boyfriend, I should have called more, made more time for us, but, y/n," he takes a tentative step towards you, "I love you, and I really don't want to give up on us, please, don't,"

Things slot into place at his words and you shake your head, "Who said anything about giving up on us?"

The words hang for a moment, and then he softly exhales, "You're not breaking up with me?"

"No!" Your voice squeaks as you rush to dispel that idea, "No, oh my god, not at all,"

He grins, covering his face with his broad hands and sighing, "Jesus Christ," he sighs, "I was going out of my mind,"

"No," You shake your head again, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry you like that."

He drops his hands and you can see the tension leave his tight shoulders, "Thank god," he smiles and steps towards you.

Panic bubbles back up inside you and you raise your hand to stop him, stepping back until your hips bump into the back of the couch, "Wait,"

His expression crumbles, "What's going on?"

You just have to say it.

"Um," Your stomach flips, "I do have some news."

"News," He repeats numbly.

"Yeah," You start to cross your arms over your chest but the realization that it would pull the fabric of the sweatshirt closer to you rockets through your brain and you drop your arms helplessly by your side. You have no idea how to tell him this.

"You can tell me anything," He says softly, reading your panic in a moment, "and you know, there's nothing we can't handle together."

"Yunho," Tears start to gather, making your eyes glassy, "I don't know how to tell you this,"

"I'm here,"

The panicked, terrified, anxious part of your brain scoffs, for now. You look away from him immediately, eyes glued to the floor. If this is how you lose him, then you guess it just wasn’t meant to be.

You take a steadying breath and jump, "I have something to tell you," you knot your fingers together, "and I didn't know how to tell you while you were away. I was afraid of distracting you or trying to figure this out while you weren't, you know, here,"

"Okay," He murmurs, taking a slow step in your direction, "I'm here,"

"A week after you left," You press your eyes closed tight, tears tracking down your cheeks, "I missed my period,"

He's silent. Your stomach churns again, but you keep going, "For a little bit I just thought it was stress, or something funny, I'm not always on schedule, but, then I started getting sick," With your eyes closed and with him so quiet, you can almost pretend you're practicing this speech, one of the many times you talked it through in the shower, lying in bed, pacing laps around your apartment. "I'm so sorry," Your voice cracks, "I'm pregnant," You can't bring yourself to open your eyes. "I know I should have told you," Tears rush forward a little faster now and you take a hitched breath, "and I know you don't want this, but you deserve to know, and I... I don't, Yunho, I don't know what to do, I don't know what I'm s-supposed to do, and," Yunho steps forwards all at once, his hands cupping your cheeks and drawing your face upwards, "Hey, hey," he soothes, voice tender, "look at me," Your eyes finally open, meeting his gaze. You expect to find him terrified, any twenty-something guy with a delicate career would be, but all you find in his eyes is soft comfort. There's no trace of the idol in him, just your lover, your best friend. "It's okay," He wipes away your tears gently, "sweetheart, breathe," "Why aren't you angry?" Tears rush faster, your breath tight. He smiles, "I'm upset you didn't think you could tell me," he dips forwards and presses a kiss to your forehead, "but y/n, I love you, this isn't... baby, this could never be bad news." "W-what?" "The timing's terrible," He admits, "and I also have no idea what we're supposed to do, but I don't care. I love you, we'll figure this out." Of all the reactions you expected from him, this hadn't even crossed your mind. When he leans back from you a little to study your tear stained face again, he smiles, and it feels like everything about your life is about to change. Slowly, you pull his hands away from your face and take a steadying breath, "Yunho," you manage, "you're an idol, and besides, we're twenty-six, we're not even married, we're not, what the hell are we going to do with a baby," He slides his hands over yours and brings them together, lifting them so he can press his lips to the back of your knuckles, "We'll do what people do, we'll make it work." You shake your head, feeling fully unmoored, but he keeps going. "I knew you were it for me on the second date," He says and the world slows to a stop, "the only thing in the world I'm terrified of is losing you, but this? y/n, I'm in love with you. Did you think I haven't imagined what our lives would be like?" "I," You can't find the right words, but you try, "I love you," His smile widens, and he moves quickly, tugging you forwards and wrapping his arms around you properly. He's much taller, and he has to lean over you, but he wraps one arm smoothly around your lower back and your hands settle on his shoulders. He pulls you up in one smooth motion, his free hand slipping under your thighs as you wrap them around his waist to hold you tight against him. He kisses your lips, tender relief in every press of his mouth on yours and he nuzzles your nose with his, "I missed you," he breathes. "I missed you too," You confess, your body finally relaxing and melting into him, weeks and weeks of tension bleeding out of your body, "so much," He hugs you close, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as you bury your face into his neck, and then he freezes, "Oh my god," his hand slides over your back, landing on your waist, "you really are pregnant," You know he can feel it, the change in your body when you're pressed flush against him like this, and you nod into his neck. "H-how," His hand pushes under your sweatshirt, searching your skin, "baby, how far?" "Fourteen weeks," He sucks in a breath, dropping you gingerly back to your feet, "I can't believe you didn't tell me," For a split second you think you're finally getting the anger you anticipated, but the giddy expression on his face says otherwise.

"I've missed so much," He snakes a hand under your hoodie, and lays his palm over your slightly distended belly, "I'm... god, I can't believe this," "You're not upset?" You check softly. "No," He shakes his head, and then he tugs gently at your sweatshirt, "No, but, can you take this off, can I see?" You're nervous again, but his easy energy wraps around you like a safety blanket and you nod, swallowing back any fears and pulling off the sweatshirt, leaving you in nothing but your sweat pants, and a tight tank top. His eyes zero in on the bump immediately, and the sliver of skin between your sweats and the hemline of your top. Your hands rest over your belly, a nervous, protective instinct, "I know," He blinks hard, tearing his eyes away from your changing body and up to your face. "What?" You ask, butterflies fluttering in your stomach. "You're really pregnant," He says, his voice a little rough, and then he reaches again until his hand slides over the smooth plane of your stomach, tracing the curve, "that's my baby," "Yeah," You breathe softly. 

Tears track down his face and he laughs, reaching for you again, up into his arms and nestled against him. 

From there?

He’s kissing you and he just can’t stop. 

You’re a mess from stress and tears, and hardly feel sexy, but he doesn’t care. He’s missed you, he loves you so much and this news is unexpected and terrifying but he’s so happy he doesn’t care

So holding you in his arms still, he takes you to bed

And you’re apologetic about the mess, your bed stand is covered with water bottles and anti-nausea medication and it hits him all at once how you’ve just been holding it together by a thread 

And he pulls you into the bed - “You’ve been sick, this hasn’t been easy, has it? I could have been there for you, I wish I had been there,” 

But you assure him that you’re mostly on the other side of it, you’re only sick like once in a while now not every second of every day 

And he’s like….. we are talking about that later, but right now how are you feeling? 

And you’re good…. but god, you missed him and now you’re just so relieved

So he begs you to let him take care of you now, he’s home, he can carry that weight if you’ll let him

And teary tender kissing in bed leaves his hands wandering, noticing how much is different, losing his mind over your bump and the new fullness of your breasts

And he’s hard and you’re touch starved 

And then he’s just losing it a little - kissing your body, telling you how much he loves every inch of you, how insane it makes him that he did this to you, how you made something together

And all the tenderness to dirty talk sends your brain into overdrive. 

It’s all just desperate needy, thank god we didn’t break up i can’t believe i got you pregnant sex

Worshipping oral, lots of body kissing and feral groaning from Yunho

His absolute insanity at being inside you like this - and you’re tighter, wetter, and needier than ever, and he’s just feral for it

“You’ll be the prettiest mommy, won’t you?” 

Just heaps of breeding and preg dirty talk

“God, I hope you want a lot of kids,” 

“You look so good like this, I’ll have to knock you up again,” 

“So pretty with my baby inside you,” 

And when you’re done, you fall asleep instantly. you’ve been sleeping so much more all of a sudden, and you suppose your body needs it, but it feels like you’re finally resting for the first time in weeks

When you wake, your apartment is clean, he got take out (but he’s googling best soups for morning sickness and texting Wooyoung cooking questions), and he’s making a list of everything you’ll need. He’s already making a plan of what you’re going to do. 

So even though the tour was terrifying, he’s home, he’s got you. You’re together on this, always.

[smallpwbbles]

ngl as someone with d.i.d. (dissociative identity disorder) the tiny jax au is really, comforting? honestly? even tho thats not at all whats happening and the situations are completely different its kinda nice seeing something similar being portrayed where the "second personality" isn't "evil".

the fact regular jax causes all the issues because hes a little bitch™ and tiny jax is just along for the ride (while being scared) is just a really refreshing take on this sorta idea. regular jax may be a victim to the circumstance hes under, but so is tiny jax. neither asked to be in this situation, and whether regular jax likes it or not he's stuck with a second person in his body. he's gonna have to adjust to it if he wants things to stop getting worse (even if adjusting to it is only temporary since in doing so might cause it to go away).

it is stressful to deal with sharing a body with even just one person. communication is key to make things work without causing a massive headache. it is scary to suddenly black out and not know what happens when you aren't in control. it is also terrifying to be threatened and yelled at for existing when you didn't ask to. the only way to get better is to communicate and accept the situation you're in instead of fighting it (more of a lesson regular jax needs to learn then tiny jax. especially since tiny jax is literally just a kid who did nothing wrong).

even tho its all unintentional, a lot of stuff just kinda hits. ofc this isn't me claiming this situation is d.i.d., im very aware its not. just wanted to share how despite it being a completely different thing, it's still relatable. really good au 10/10. my bad for the accidental mini essay. i'd be doing our english teachers proud right now with this shit.

skibidi toilet ohio rizz fortnite battle pass or whatever the kids say

- @carnivalcentipede

Yoo, I really appreciate this, like I defo don’t wanna dismiss the themes of DID I may have accidentally put in this AU especially if yall see it that way. So I’m glad I haven’t done anything disrespectful in how I portray Jaxs inner turmoil of having a part of himself be open and vulnerable with the others

I hate that I’m becoming so old that I only get half of the references kids be making nowadays

[stellamarielu]

Hear me out babes (may I call you babes?)

Declan x reader who is Taggie's friend and has a secret daddy kink..it almost slips out while teasing so Declan makes sure it fully comes out later ;) and maybe some more of that "be the sweet thing we both know you are and take it like a good girl" type shit if ya feel like it? Love you and your writing so much!

daddy

declan o’hara x female reader

summary: you're mocking the way declan's daughter is always calling him daddy, but the teasing only has the two of you discovering something new about your preferences in the bedroom

content: nsfw, 18+, literally just porn with a sprinkle of plot, cursing, daddy kink, risky quickie, teasing, penetration, praise kink, him calling the reader good girl [duh], him calling reader babygirl [idk i blacked out], hair pulling, slightly degrading, kinda rough sex, pull out game strong on this one!

author’s note: you can call me whatever you want when you’re dropping requests like this in my inbox, god damn! i’ve had tons of taggie’s best friend x declan requests lately so i hope this can feed you all– i’m looking directly at the anon who said “what if reader was taggie’s best friend and declan bent her over the closest platform and fucked her brains out.” [fucked her brains out had me on the floor]

—

You were having dinner at the O’hara’s for the second time this week. You'd like to say you helped taggie cook, but really you just watched her stride around the kitchen and handed her different ingredients as you talked her ear off. Now, after all her hard work and little boasts of encouragement from you, you were both sat at the kitchen table finishing dinner and laughing. Her father was sat across from you shaking his head at the cackling going on between you and Taggie. You were having a hard time keeping your composure with him only being a few feet away. It was hard to focus- hard to act normal when you knew you’d be sneaking into his room later.

It wasn’t your fault Taggie’s dad was so hot, and it also wasn’t your fault that you'd been hooking up with him.

You weren’t proud of it- in fact you felt guilty for doing something as blatantly wrong as having sex with your best friends dad. But it was Declan. You'd had a massive crush on him since the first time you walked through Taggie's front door. Not to mention his wife recently left and he was walking around all sad and lonely, practically begging you to fuck him out of his sorrowful daze. It wasn't like you were some home wrecker, Declan was the one who had initiated it weeks ago. Pulling you aside after taggie had fallen asleep one night and practically ambushing you with dirty whispers and not so innocent touches. In retrospect you had been doing everything within your power to break him down; so it didn't come as a surprise when he finally gave in to temptation and took you against his bedroom door.

Regardless of who tempted who first, you were now in some kind of relationship. You weren't really sure what it was exactly, all you knew was that you couldn't keep your hands off each other which made things complicated seeing as though his daughter- your best friend- was always right there next to you.

Like right now, she was sitting next to you and chatting with her dad about something that happened earlier and you couldn't be bothered to pay attention. Instead, you were fixated on the man in front of you. Declan was leaned back in his chair, the top two buttons of his shirt undone and all you could do was stare at the exposed skin beneath it.

"You done?" His voice was breaking you out of your trance.

He was leaning forward and reaching for the empty plate in front of you. The grin on his lips told you he knew exactly what had you so zoned-out. In fact, he had probably unbuttoned his shirt on purpose just to tease you.

“It’s alright daddy, i’ve got it” Taggie was chiming in as she stood to her feet, stacking your plates on top of one another and carrying them across the room to the sink.

Daddy, a term of endearment for her father. The word sounded so sweet and innocent coming from her mouth. It was a name she called him frequently and each time she did, you couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to say it yourself. To use it as so many people often did, in the bedroom.

Now that Taggie was away from the table, you and declan were left sitting across from each other, just staring. An amused smile had taken over your face at Taggie's recently spoken words.

He raised an eyebrow mouthing “what?” in curiosity to the look on your face.

“Nothing… daddy” You were sing-songing almost silently underneath your breath, careful not to let taggie hear.

Declan's brows furrowed and his mouth fell open slightly as if he were about to respond when you abruptly stood from your seat and grabbed the remaining dishes off the table, striding over to join your best friend across the room.

Then, Declan was sitting alone, his mind reeling from hearing you call him that. A name exclusively reserved for his children. He never even thought about what it would sound like to hear it from your lips. But now, it took on an entirely different meaning, the way you said it with your eyes all wide and challenging. It was as if you needed him to put you in your place. declan was accustomed to being in control in the bedroom but that word, “daddy” had him craving the authority that hid beneath its meaning and your submission that came along with it. He needed to hear you say it again. Wanted to hear it as he railed into you from behind with your hair wrapped around his fist.

You were standing with Taggie at the sink and stealing the sponge out of her hand, demanding to do the dishes since she cooked. Then Declan was behind you muttering something about “You’re our guest you’re not doing the dishes” and ushering you both out of the way. This was followed by you retorting, “Guest? I’m here practically every night.” determined to do the chore at hand.

After you and declan argued a bit more over who would do the washing up, taggie gave in, leaving you both to take care of the mess.

She was grabbing a tinfoil covered plate off the counter and waltzing out the front door before either of you could protest. She had promised Lizzie left over bread pudding and told the two of you she would be right back as she walked out the door to their neighbors house.

In taggie’s mind she just left her best friend and her dad to clean up the kitchen while she ran a quick errand– harmless. But the reality of it was much less innocent. In fact, the second taggie was down the driveway declan was pawing at your waist.

“You think it’s funny teasin’ me in front of Tag like that? you’re gonna get us both in trouble.”

You turned slightly so that you were facing each other.

“I’m not the one with my entire chest out.” you were accusing him, finding the third button from his collar and popping it open to match the two preceding it.

“Wish you were” He was chiding playfully as he molded to your touch.

You let your hands explore his exposed chest, gliding over the smooth curls hiding underneath the undone material of his shirt.

“Say it again.” His eyes were burning into you as you traced his collarbones.

His voice was deep and gruff, skipping over the playful tone you had introduced moments before.

“Say wha-“ Your brows were furrowed at his command, confused as to what he wanted you to repeat, and then it hit you.

“Daddy?”

You looked up at him with a devious sparkle in your eye. You were completely joking earlier, just mocking his daughter when you had said it the first time at the dinner table. Never in a million years did you think he would be into that sort of thing. You’d had a lot of sex over the past few weeks, all of it hot and dirty and at times a bit kinky, but the word daddy had never once come up.

“Oh you like that? You filthy old man.” You were giggling, every word fell from your lips in a joking tone, but the look in declan's eyes was far from playful.

You'd seen him wearing that expression before. In fact, the last time he had that unchecked feral look in his eyes, he had three fingers in you, telling you to "take it like a good girl." while your eyes were watering from pleasure.

"Bend over." His words were simply spoken and his eyes were blown wide as he peered down at you.

"Declan-" you were ready to tell him no, that you couldn't, that the risk of getting caught was far grater than the reward of a quick fuck against his kitchen sink.

"I wasn't askin'."

His rough hands slid to your hips, his strong hold on you forcing you to pivot until the front of your body was pushed against the kitchen counter.

"Declan, Taggie-" you were beginning to express your worry of getting caught when he interrupted you, his breath hot on your neck.

"She’ll be gone for at least twenty minutes." He was roaming the expanse of your torso with his big hands, not leaving a single inch of your body untouched.

"We've got plenty of time." His whispers were in your ear as he stood behind you and the invitation of his warm embrace had you falling back into his touch.

"You gonna take it while I bend you over the counter sweetheart?"

This time his voice was taunting as he spoke against your neck. One of his hands was coming down to the hem of your dress, hiking it up to your waist in one quick movement.

"Yes"

You were giving in. You had to. Everything about his hands on your body and his words swimming in your brain made you willing to do anything he wanted– a slave to his touch.

"Yes, what?" The teasing tone was back in his words as he coerced you into saying the one word he desperately needed to hear. His fingertips were pushing between your legs running over the embarrassingly damp material of your underwear.

"Yes daddy."

As soon as you said it, the gentle touch of his fingertips against your clothed core turned into a firm grip. His palm was flat on your cunt as he cupped your heat, and the friction of it had you biting back a squeal.

"There you go."

He was so satisfied by the feeling of having your body in his grasp- all bent over for him, that he let you have a little taste of your own satisfaction. He was hooking his fingers into the waistband of your panties and pulling them down, replacing the lace material with the pads of his fingertips as they played in the mess of arousal gathering there.

"This all for me sweet girl?"

He was cooing in your ear, with his fingers painstakingly gliding over your opening.

You were whispering out a hushed, "yes" in hopes that he would finally fill you with something. You were desperate for relief and knew Taggie would be back soon.

"What’s that? Couldn’t here ya."

He was enjoying himself, teasing as you were submitting to his every whim.

"Declan, we have to hurry." You were mumbling through a moan as your back arched, reminding the man behind you that you were meant to be racing against the clock of his daughter's inevitable return.

“What happened to my pretty little obedient girl huh? Not very nice to rush me.” As he spoke you felt his touch vanish from between your bodies.

A pitiful noise erupted from your mouth at the loss of his touch on you.

"Declan..." You meant for this name to come out as a stern warning but instead it was just another deplorable whine, and he still wasn't touching you. It was as if he were waiting for something. Waiting for you to be compliant with his need for dominance.

"Please daddy, I'll be good for you." You were mustering up the sweetest little voice you could manage and pushing your ass into his crotch.

"I promise." you were purring out a vow of compliance as you looked over your shoulder at Declan.

The second your eyes found his all filled with innocence, it was a wrap.

He was working at his pants in a frenzy, quick to get them off so he could line himself up with your center that was exposed and ready– all for him.

Your gaze was once again fixed forward but you could feel Declan's length at your backside threatening to finally push into you.

You were getting ready to say something– anything– when a surprised yelp escaped your lips.

He had plunged his cock all the way into you in one swift movement. The wetness already drowning your core was enough to let his member slip right in and slide deep inside, making you cry out in pleasure.

"Yeah? Gonna be good?" He was huffing out as his hands gripped onto your hips, hard.

"My good fuckin' girl." His voice was a groan as he pulled your hips back to meet his over and over again, his cock diving into you with each movement.

One of his hands was letting go of your hips and sliding up your body until you felt him intertwining his fingers in your hair and gently pulling at it as he buried himself deeper with each thrust. The slight yank of your hair causing a perverse moan to seep from your mouth.

Your lewd noise made Declan's pace quicken as he bottomed out with every thrust.

"You like it when daddy pulls your hair like that huh baby?"

He was relishing in the pleasure of your walls wrapped tightly around his cock and the power he had over you in this position. The surge of control was bringing out the most unholy parts of him, causing filthy words to fall from his tongue.

And with each word off his lips you could feel your walls clenching harder around him and your body tensing in anticipation.

"Fuck- are you gonna come already?" Declan could feel the way you were squeezing and squirming against him, he knew exactly how your body reacted to him when you were on the verge of release.

"That's pathetic baby."

His voice was jeering as he reached around your body and placed the smallest amount of pressure over your clit with the pad of his index finger. The careful touch was especially surprising to you given the way he was currently pounding into you from behind. Everything about the contrasting sensations had your abdomen burning with pleasure.

"Gonna give it to me sweetheart? Gonna be a good girl for me?" His voice was spilling out of him in the most sinful groan.

you were whining out a "yes daddy" as he continued driving into you, simultaneously pushing your hips back to meet each of his relentless thrusts.

it was all too much; his attentive strokes to your clit, his tight grip in your hair, his unyielding pace as he filled you with every inch of him. You could feel the tension building in your body ready to snap, and your legs threatened to give out underneath you.

Bracing yourself against the kitchen counter, you pressed your forearms against the cool surface.

"That's it babygirl." Declan's sinful chants were filling your ears as you allowed your release to wash over you. White hot pleasure shot through your entire body as you folded even further over the kitchen sink.

"There's my good girl."

His praise was a low murmur as he took in the way you were melting into him with relief. Your body gave into him completely as your grip around his cock tightened.

"Fuck look at you."

The astonishment in his voice made yet another pitiful whine slip past your lips. You were still trembling as he continued thrusting into you, his movements much slower than before.

"Came so fast. Ya needed me that bad babygirl?"

You couldn't bring yourself to speak, instead you just nodded your head pathetically as you remained slumped against the countertop.

"So fuckin' tight sweetheart." He was marveling at the feeling of your walls squeezing around him like a warm perverted hug.

He was picking the pace of his thrusts back up, unable to keep himself from giving in to how good it felt to have you bent over for him with your mind all dazed and your cunt pulsing.

With one hand pulling at your hair and the other grabbing at your waist, Declan was practically slamming himself into you, the breathy groans leaving his throat made your head spin.

"Feels so good daddy." You were mewling out a statement of flattery for the man currently ruining you, hoping your words held the same power of his.

Judging by the way his thrusts ceased and the fact that he was pulling out of you in mere seconds, your use of his new favorite nickname must've pushed him right over the edge.

He was using the hand at your waist to gather your dress higher on your body, ensuring that his eventual mess wouldn't ruin the material.

Thick, hot strands of come came pulsing out of him, covering his own fist and the exposed skin of your lower back. He fought to keep his eyes open as his orgasm pushed through him, watching the way his load spilled over your body.

You were both regulating your nervous systems and sharing a few smitten chuckles as Declan grabbed a nearby dishtowel to wipe away the evidence of your shared debauchery.

After a few minutes of normality and washing dishes, you watched through the kitchen window as Taggie made her way back up the driveway.

You and Declan shared one last brazen smile before going back to being nothing more than acquaintances.

"I'm back!" Taggie's voice filled the Priory like a song as she came bounding in the front door.

She entered the kitchen with a smile on her face as she took in the cleanliness of her surroundings, somehow you and Declan had managed to finish washing up after he fucked you over the kitchen counter.

"Look at that! My heroes." Taggie was exclaiming as she pulled you both into a loose embrace, you on her left and Declan on her right.

She proceeded to grab you by the forearm pulling you away from her father and toward the doorway of the kitchen; taking you back for herself so the two of you could go gossip and listen to music in her room.

"Oh daddy, Lizzie says hi by the way!" She was speaking to her father right as you were about to exit the room, and you couldn't help the smirk that found its way to your lips.

Declan's eyes found yours at the sound of the word and both of you were fighting back a laugh as Taggie hauled you to the stairs.

my masterlist

[mnnuni]

Valentine's day

James Potter x Reader

Summary: James discovers Saint Valentine's day and does the most James things about it

Genre: fluff

Words: 1530

Warnings: nothing, lots of smiles

Author's note: I know I'm late for saint Valentine's -sorry- and maybe this is ugly, but whatever at this point

*gif and pics from Pinterest

*dividers of @saradika-graphics

"Okay" he took a breath in "now explain it another time"

This time Remus actually rolled his eyes and almost scoffed now : it was the fourth time that day already that he spelled out the story behind the celebration of Saint Valentine's day.

"Don't do this to me Moony, I want to make her something special" James was practically whining now, he was almost desperate -all for nothing, obviously-

Remus smiled sympathetically and put a hand on his shoulder "don't worry about the history and the meaning mate, just know that we use this day to celebrate the lovers", his face of almost-terror didn't change so Sirius -finally- jumped in the conversation "Just do what you're good at : be a loverboy"; they managed to share a laugh but James's head was running all around.

(Y/n) didn't say anything about Valentine's day to James, she knew that as a half-blood she had different traditions than the pureblood magic families and besides they weren't officially together, they were "just seeing eachother".

For everyone around them they could already have a child for all they'd known, not that they were so public about their relationship but their sentiments were so pure and visible that it was obvious even to the ghosts of the castle.

Nevertheless (Y/n) dreaded to spend the day with him : on Fridays they both had half the day free, so they always tried to spent most of it together.

Today (Y/n) hoped it was nothing different.

She was wrong.

The strange things started at breakfast when James didn't come down from Gryffindor tower, "he had to ask something about his paper to Minnie" said Peter when she asked why he wasn't there. "I'll see him in history of magic then", Lily who had the class with them instantly lowered her head to her plate and didn't say anything.

But that didn't mean anything, right?

(Y/n)'s suspicious were proven right when James didn't show up in history of magic and Lily refused to even approach the subject. The situation only got worse when James wasn't even at lunch; had something happen to him? She got so up in her head that she ran to check the infirmary ten minutes into the lunch. Madame Pomfrey tough told her he wasn't there.

(Y/n) was rather disappointed that James was apparently ignoring her, almost angry with him when she reached her dorm room. She threw herself on her bed and screamed in her pillow all the bad words she'd tell James if she had him in front of her. It took her too much time to realise that on her bedside table there was a red tulip and a note.

19;30

Whomping Willow

It's a date.

She tried to resist it, but a smile instantly crept up her face. It was automatic when James Potter was involved.

(Y/n) got up and started to prepare for this unexpected date. She really really tried to not overdo herself, because James truly got on her nerves today but it was so natural for her to commit with the best version of herself for James; he was a too caring boy to not influence the people around him to want to be good for him.

During her walk to the Whomping Willow she repeated in her head that he wanted to see her and surely had an explanation for his absence.

The moment (Y/n) saw him tough, she forgot everything and got distracted by the sparkle of his eyes. Her brain disconnected from her mouth and she was only able to yell "where the hell were you today?"

Sure was that James was startled by her reaction, "everything will be cleared up, sweetheart" he extended his hand to her "now, would you please follow me?"

Of course she would.

They didn't walk for long, and while they did James tried to distract her by describing to her every kind of tree they passed. When they arrived at a signed-with-an-x oak James made her stop and close her eyes.

"Why do I have to?"

"Because I'm asking you"

She scoffed but did it anyway.

James guided her another three or four steps ahead when he made her stop again and open her eyes.

(Y/n) was speechless.

Between two large trees there was a big mattress and an exaggerated amount of colorful pillows and blankets. The trees curved in a way to form an arch, as to protect the little space James created. All around that gash of forest they were surrounded by fairies and glow bugs. Above the mattress James managed to enchant a series of flowing notes to have music.

Everything was so romantic.

When (Y/n) turned to look at him James produced a basket from behind a bush and whispered "happy valentine's day".

"How do you know?"

He shrugged his shoulders and half grinned "i have my ways"

Remus, of course.

He invited her to have a seat on their make shift bed and she obliged, still smiling and looking all around.

"I made you a dinner-breakfast" he declared when he opened the basket and a delicious smell came from it. James put out warm pancakes with cream and lots of chocolate chips biscuits, he also had a big flagon of their favourite tea. (Y/n) watched him carefully position everything out for them and couldn't help but smile; she spent all day worrying and getting angry by his absence while he was preparing all this, just for her.

"Thank you" she suddenly said, and James was surprised about it -not because (Y/n) wasn't a grateful person but because he didn't do it to be praised about it, just because he wanted to make her happy-

(Y/n) reached for his hand and squeezed it, "you really didn't have to do this, but I love it"

James smiled one of his purest and warmest smiles. The one he reserved for the people he truly loved and he loved (Y/n) so much.

They ate almost everything, (Y/n) recalled her day to James and he talked to her about how he did everything he did to organise this beautiful set up.

"Sirius helped with the music and Peter with the cooking, you already gathered that Remus is the one to thank for all the Saint Valentine's day knowledge I have now; Lily hated lying to you, because we all know how she is when she lies but-"

James didn't realise it while he rambled but (Y/n) got every second that passed closer to him, to the point that she was brushing his nose with hers.

"James" she whispered to warn him of her presence and then she moved and kissed him.

He was the one stunned now.

He didn't know why, but he really wasn't expecting this.

Her lips were warm and her movements tentative, until James's brain started to function again and he kissed her back. He took her face in his hands and moved her closer, (Y/n) was smiling. When she pulled back she remained her forehead against his, she wanted to feel him all. After a moment or so of the two of them breathing in each other James asked a mere perceivable "why?", (Y/n) opened her eyes and looked him straight in his while finally confessing "I liked this very much, and I like you even more James Potter"

James was grinning so wide he made his dimple pop.

"Good" he decided and proceeded to make (Y/n) lay on her back on the mattress and kiss her until any of them two was at loss of oxygen.

It took him lots of kisses and pulled lips to finally realise, "oh my god, that was our first kiss".

His face was priceless.

(Y/n) chuckled, "yes James", she was playing with some strands of his hair and was looking at him with a kind of sweetness in her eyes James wasn't aware he was ready to see.

He straightened himself a little and tried not to make a face too worried, while he searched for the courage to talk again he started fidgeting with (Y/n)'s fingers. He opened his mouth once or twice, then finally "so what does that mean?"

Oh, James

"Well..." (Y/n) used her fingers to move his face towards her by the chin and smiled, "what do you want it to mean?"

He said the next words with a needing in his tone so touching that even the fairies around them would have reacted, "I really want to be with you"

(Y/n) couldn't understand the fear in his eyes, of course she wanted to be with him too. She just repeated him, "Good." and smiled wider than before.

James exhaled a breath he then called unnecessary and leaned in to kiss her again.

They fell asleep in the forest, tangled in their hugs.

The next day when they missed breakfast and returned to the common room laughing and touching each other every two steps, everyone of their friends had the same thought: "Finally".

Lily jumped to her feet to slap James on the back of his head, "that's for making me lie to her", everyone chuckled, even James, "well... it was worth it in the end".

[tinylilemrys]

I'm busy writing about the Necropolis in my fic and it's just occurred to me how wild the ethical implications of it are. It really feels like there's a discrepancy in how different bodies are treated.

Some are laid quietly to rest in the lovely memorial garden or a separate burial chamber. Some, like the Nevarran king and the skeleton chefs who make your romantic memorial garden meal with Emmrich, are allowed to continue on as they were in life. Some, for whatever reason, are set up like museum displays. And then others are unceremoniously Frankensteined into wisp-powered servants and put to work. Right as you arrive you see that they use these skeletons for hard labour.

Everywhere else in Thedas burns their dead, so we can reasonably assume that all the bodies and skeletons we see in the Necropolis are Nevarran citizens. This being the case, how does it get determined what happens to your body after you die?

I imagine money might have something to do with it. Emmrich says he only laid his parents to rest in the memorial gardens long after they died, once his career was starting to take off. I doubt just anyone gets a spot in the memorial garden. This would imply that there are pauper graves too.

Or is the wisp worker factory what happens if you don't have money for a grave? Is this what happens to those who don't have family to make those arrangements? Is this what they do with prisoners? With their Johns and Janes Doe? I imagine that Emmrich would take issue with this if that was how it worked. He seems to be one of those people determined to do as little harm to those around him as possible. Or perhaps it's so deeply ingrained as just part of the culture that it doesn't seem all that wrong to him?

There's also a possibility that it works on a volunteer basis. Maybe you fill in a card like you do as an organ donor that explains exactly how you would like to be laid to rest, or that you're willing to donate your body to the betterment of the Necropolis in whichever way they see fit. Perhaps those who donate their bodies get wages sent to their loved ones in exchange for their labour?

I have SO MANY QUESTIONS about this that I'm never going to get answers for.

[damnfandomproblems]

Fandom Problem #7559:

Look, I understand the "you don't always need to use non-human characters for stories based on real-world historical bigotry. You can just write about said historical bigotry," kind of writing advice. Write the stories you want to write about.

I understand it on paper. In execution, most of my problems stem from the fans.

Nothing is more annoying than seeing the fans look at a fictional story full of different fictional beings and the fans believe they know exactly what kinds of real world instances of discrimination the writers drew from, over said writers.

For example, MAYBE the writers DID NOT draw on the US' history of racism towards other races for the story they wrote. Maybe they drew inspiration from literally ANY OTHER nation on the planet.

Or MAYBE, the writers DID NOT base the slavery depicted in this story on US slavery. That's not the only historical instance of slavery.

And MAYBE this fantasy race is based on a racist depiction from history, or MAYBE they're NOT, and you're just wrong, but too stubborn to admit it or realize.

MAYBE this fantasy world took inspiration from real world human historical events of discrimination, OR you just don't know history OR its purely original with NO real world basis.

It gets even more annoying when these same fans ignore all the evidence they're wrong and still think they're right.

The Writers: We drew inspiration from what the Soviet Union did to Russia, Russian culture and its people as a base for most of the lives the protagonists lived and the kind of villains they're trying to defeat. In fact! Most of our staff grew up under the cruel times of communism or heard stories from our parents.

The fanbase: CLEARLY! THIS IS ALL MEANT TO BE BASED ON THE US GOVERNMENT OPPRESSING BLACK PEOPLE! AND YOU ARE A RACIST IF YOU DISAGREE!

Or only use one example. I would take SOOO many more discussions around this discourse seriously if audiences did not cry, "Why do so many fantasy stories rewrite whites oppressing blacks!?" And if fans could show they knew more history, did not ignore any evidence that said otherwise and/or did not say this about two fictional races who aren't even human or based on said example.

It gets worse when they yell at other fans and believe those fans who dare to disagree or try to give their own take are bigots themselves. And all the exclusion is justified in their eyes.

"Can you all stop saying (insert fictional race here) is based on black people? There's entire discussions that show they're not with truth to them."

"THAT'S RACIST! YOU'RE RACIST!"

Also, gotta love when they presume certain fans that disagree all suffer from internalized bigotry or something along those lines.

Yes. There are black fans who don't see orcs as being based on black people and just have fun. What's your excuse?

TLDR: Stop substituting what you believe happened in canon for what actually happened and stop using it as a chance to other bully fans.

[undercover-stories]

Was trying to just write this in the tags but it got too long so ignore me or suffer me.

Cause you don't understand! OK you probably do but imma say it anyway cause this fluff needs to be fluffier.

Cause adults usually do the whole 'ask kids obvious questions' thing to help them open up to someone. Someone new that they want to show to the child. Someone they want the child to know they can trust and feel safe with. And the thought that is gripping me is that a-Yuan is probably still a few days into his new home, and it still looks strange to him because the ceiling is so high and the rooms are so large and the walls are so........ clean. That's not how it was like in the orphanages. You weren't supposed to scribble or write on the wall, but of course, it happens anyway because pens roll off of tall tables and crayons are a dime a dozen in the charity bin.

Maybe that's why the first thing Wei Ying did with a-Yuan after they settled him in was to introduce him to his gallery. Wei Ying doesn't even hesitate to give a-Yuan his own apron. Telling him to pick the colours he liked best and to start from there and they spend the whole day having fun splattering wet rainbows on plain canvases that in hindsight weren't very different from the white walls they were laid on. So A-Yuan doesn't realize he might have done something wrong when his paint splattered hands actually touch a surface that was not in fact within the frame of their contained art piece. Until he hears a gasp from behind him. Immediately he pulls back, eyes already watery, thinking he'd made a mistake when instead of a raised voice he's met by loud, joyful peal of laughter before he's hoisted off the floor by his new guardian.

"You're a natural talen a-Yuan! Why didn't I think of that! Let me help you!"

So Wei Ying holds him up so he could reach every surface his little hands could touch. Laughing as he stamps the imprint of his palms all over the room. High and low till his little heart was spent.

But then Lan Zhan comes in and that same little heart stutters and he hides and Wei Ying understands so when Lan Zhans asks, Wei Yings asks him to.

"He's safe. You can trust him. He's one of us!"

So a-Yuan shows him his little hands and that spent, stuttering heart sputters again when Lan Zhan smiles back. Holding out his own hands to be painted.

My words are not wording and I have rewritten this too many times. So please take this away before I add even more to it than I should.

Fluffy, Wangxian fic idea. (For Once)

So, this was inspired by the text post I made yesterday for the Wangxian family—one, I'm pretty sure someone already did, but unashamedly did anyway; you can never have too much Wangxian, after all, as the saying goes—and it was sitting in the well-worn (and sometimes, loved) backseat of my mind for a while and then I was watching Bluey before bed, and it set the ember aglow. 

I wanted to cocoon Wangxian in warmth, for once. Something soft and tender, this time around. And I was like, hey, can I turn this text post into something of a mini fic? Can this be something more? So I shot a text to @xiaokuer-schmetterlingand just like that, the idea took flight.  @xiaokuer-schmetterling, enabler of dreams (and unhinged ideas), king among mortals, fueled the fire with unwavering encouragement, and now, here it is—no longer a fleeting thought but something tangible, something that breathes.

Modern Wangxian AU which starts Lan Wangji being tackle-hugged by his family, laughing and golden in the sunlight. Feeling so impossibly grateful like the sappy man he is, where the gods feel close and love is as simple as reaching out a hand and finding one reaching back. Content. Loved. Happy. And he stumbles through the door and finds the walls - gleaming and shining - decorated with tiny little handprints all in different colors, a chaotic mural of sorts. 

“Why are there little handprints on the walls?” Lan Wangji asks, because, with Wei Wuxian, it could be anything. And it usually, is how trouble — though, a far more fonder, softer version of the word — begins.

His Wei Ying shrugs, before kneeling down to a-Yuan, who looks terribly shy and so unfathomably adorable in his little light-up sneakers and white, bunny jacket (with floppy bunny ears on the hood) and wringing his little hands together. He is so small, so precious, Lan Zhan wishes he could carry him around in his pocket always. There is a reason two pockets were invented for coat jackets, after all — one for his husband and one for his son. 

a-Yuan nervously wrings his hands tighter,  but Wei Ying’s voice is gentle and pretty, unbearably so, even as he whispers, “Why are there tiny handprints on the walls?”

It is a stage whisper. Lan Wangji hears it as clear as a crisp, summer day, but Lan Wangji is used to the (endearing) antics of his husband, and so he plays along, as he always does. Fondly. 

a-Yuan, who only months ago had been a trembling thing, skittish and afraid, peeks up at Wei Ying, solemn as the moon. “Because I have little hands.” And he lifts them, as if in proof. 

Wei Ying nods at them, equally grave. He rises, and a-Yuan immediately rushes to cling to his pant leg. Wei Ying ruffles his hair, soft from yesterday’s bath, still carrying the faint scent of calendula. Then, his voice still as grave as it was before, he turns to Lan Wangji. “Because he has little hands.”

a-Yuan raises them again, this time, to show Lan Wangji. 

Lan Wangji looks at them, serious, thoughtful. “Mn,” he says at last. A slow smile unfurls across his lips. He nods his head at the handprints. “Well. They look lonely.”

And so they add their own. Hands dipped in paint, pressed against the walls, an unspoken promise sealed in color. This is not just play—this is permanence, a claim, a declaration. A home built not of bricks and beams, but of belonging.

And later, when the night quiets, when A-Yuan sleeps safe and small beneath the covers, his hands no longer trembling, Wei Ying will turn to him, eyes too bright, too full, and Lan Wangji will understand, as he always does.

This is it. This is the moment.

For a-Yuan, who once flinched at raised voices and curled in on himself when the world seemed too big, who now paints walls with fearless little hands and tugs at Lan Wangji’s sleeve with the easy, thoughtless trust of a child who knows they will be caught. For a boy who had known only instability, who had been shuffled from house to house with no roots to anchor him—this is proof that he is wanted. That he can take up space without fear. That his existence does not come with conditions.

For Wei Wuxian, who had taken one look at a bright-eyed boy chasing a bunny plush across a too-crowded orphanage and felt something crack wide open in his chest, an instinct, something older than words—this is devastation of the best kind. This is undoing and remaking. This is ensuring that no other child suffers a hollowed-out boyhood the way he did. This is his heart, raw and aching, spilling over with love too vast to contain. With so many people to give it to. 

For Lan Wangji, who will be there, always. Who will feed the ducks because Wei Ying asks him to, who will wear hideous sweaters because Wei Ying knits them, who will stare down anyone who dares to scoff at Wei Ying’s art—and make sure they never do it again. To Lan Wangji, this is everything. He had known, from that fateful day in the park, when Wei Ying knelt and reached out a hand, that their guest room would never be a guest room again. That his uncle would be a great-uncle. That he would love this child as his own, with all that he is, with all that he will ever be.

If fate was a loom, perhaps a younger Lan Wangji would have woven himself a quieter life. A simple, unobtrusive thread, neat and pale. But this thread was spun golden, and it glittered in the sun, bright and unashamed. And Lan Wangji—

Lan Wangji has always reached for the light.

I feel like I get more incoherent with every post I make, for some reason. Lemme know what you think!

@xiaokuer-schmetterling, @undercover-stories, @sun-ashes, I am suffering. This is my 117th W.I.P. Grace me with some of your holy wisdom. Have mercy on the child. :((((

[kanerallels]

Hate when I start writing something that is, technically, cute, but then immediately starts to feel out of character/contradictory to what I already wrote

[the-physicality]

i do think, aside from mercury bias, if bg had been in all season she would have been all wnba, first or at least second. i think people undervalue her because of the rebounding but she is 1000% the worst officiated player in the league, on both sides of the court. so the fact that she's been able to have the performance that she had is incredible, and that she didn't get the acknowledgment really just underscores how much people take what she does for granted.

[sausage-rolll]

“You need to spend dozens of hours reading item descriptions and watching lore videos to understand the story of fromsoft games” factoid actually just statistical error. Lore hunter Georg, who spends upwards of hundreds of hours analysing the story and lore of these games and cross referencing interpretations of the plot is an outlier and should not have been counted.

[forehead451]

stream of consciousness type deal.

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

David Tennant interview at the British LGBT Awards, June 2024 (x)

Int: You being an ally to the community isn't something new. You've been doing it, but recently you've obviously really stepped up for trans and non-binary people in a time that's so, so needed. What made you do that?

David: I don't know that I feel like I've done anything that I wouldn't just sort of be normally doing. I mean, it's for me it's just common sense that there's there should be any suggestion that people aren't allowed to live the life they want to live and and to be who they want to be with and to express themselves wholeheartedly. I mean, as long as you aren't hurting anybody else, everybody else just needs to fucking butt out. I don't really understand why...

Int: ...it's controversial.

David: Yeah, there is and the thing... the thing, if there's something that's particularly sobering and depressing, it's that certain debates are being weaponized by certain elements of the political class, often for no... it seems it's not ideological so much as opportunistic. And I just think that's pretty disgusting, really.

Int: I couldn't agree more. What message would you like to send out to trans youth?

David: Please don't feel like you're not loved and that you're not accepted and that you're not... you know, most people in the world are good and kind and just want you to be able to be who you are. Most people in the world don't really care. I mean... you know what I mean?

Int: We're all narcissistic.

David: Exactly. Everyone's so self obsessed that really, the sort of noise that comes from a certain area of the press and of the political class is... it's a minority. It really is. And please don't let that make you feel diminished or dissuaded or discouraged, because, you know, you just... you have to be allowed to be yourself, and you are, and you are yourself and you must thrive and flourish, and we're all here for it.

Int: Amazing. I think, yeah, it's so important .I think sometimes it feels like there's so many people, but it is a minority. It's such a minority.

David: It's a tiny bunch of little whinging fuckers that are on the wrong side of history and they'll all go away soon.

Int: Like what happened with gay people 20 years ago.

David: When I was a kid, when I was a kid, exactly. You know, I was at school when Clause 28 came in and it all felt like being gay was something to be terrified of. And gay men in particular were demonised as paedophiles and now that just feels historic and ludicrous and, I mean, I don't see all those... all those battles aren't won, but we're in a very, very different place. And I feel like.I feel like history is on a progressive trajectory and it might get knocked sideways now and again by people for all sorts of reasons, which are often quite selfish and quite, as I say, not coming from a place of any sort of genuine belief system, but other than a place of opportunism. And that's something that we... I hope that in 20 years time, we're talking about, you know, these culture wars as something of the past.

Int: I believe we will. I'm a huge Doctor Who fan, so.

David: Oh, good, me too!

Int: You are my Doctor.

David: Oh, thank you very much.

Int: But recently, obviously, you came back for the 60th anniversary and you got to work with Yasmin Finney.

David: Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

Int: What was it like working with her?

David: Oh, she's brilliant. She's fantastic. Yeah. And she's in the show again now, she's back in it, so that's fantastic to see. She's lovely, talented, cool as a cucumber, articulate, brilliant. I learned a lot from her as an actor and also as someone who, you know, who's become a sort of de facto activist just because of who she is and where she is, and she becomes a sort of symbol of hope, and she's wonderful.

[bi-writes]

how would arguments go between simon and MOB? i imagine he would never dare raise his voice at her.

simon does not argue with his wife. if you are in danger or something is wrong, i could see him using a little bit of his lieutenant's voice just to get you to listen to him. to "get behind me" or "i'll take care of this, you go." otherwise, there's no resistance. none at all.

"you know, simon, i..." you stop at the door, swallowing. you rub a hand over your forehead, shaking your head. "i...i-i really don't want to go."

he shuffles in his boots, staring at you carefully. you're all dressed up; you've got a new dress on (that he bought you, eagerly), and you've done your makeup. you clutch your purse with clammy hands, and he narrows his eyes when he sees the tremble in your bottom lip. he clears his throat, taking his jacket off. he removes his boots quietly, scratching the back of his neck as he comes close to you to take your bag and hang it up by the door again.

"okay," simon murmurs. "then we won't go."

he doesn't tell you about the cancellation fee.

"'ello?"

"simon!"

he startles awake this time, holding the phone closer to his ear. the sheer anxiety in your voice cuts his gut sharp.

"wot? wot is it? wot happened?"

"i--i totally...i screwed up, simon--oh, god, i'm so sorry--"

"oi!" simon says firmly. "wot happened?"

"i...i'm at the shop, someone was going to back into me, so i swerved, and--"

"fuck," simon breathes. "are ya olright?"

"the car, it's--"

"not wot i asked," simon interrupts you. "are ya hurt?"

"w-what? i..." you sniffle. "no. i'm okay. just a little sore, i guess..."

simon lets out a deep breath, shaking his head.

"i'm coming," simon says lowly. "you stay there, baby. don't move."

"but, simon, the walk is--"

"i'll see ya in twenty."

"oh, no, no, no, no!" you gasp. the orange tabby's head perks up at the sound of your voice at the door. she's got one of simon's masks in her mouth, and even from this distance and without the lights turned on, you can tell the fabric is shredded to bits. it's all over the floor, scattered across the couch, flecks of lint in her fur.

"oh, god, how could you?!" you panic a little. she must have gotten into some kind of drawer or basket or the laundry, because as you start towards her, she darts away, leading you across the house where you can see shreds of more masks and simon's socks strewn about the house. "oh, no!"

the front door closes heavy. when you come into the living room, simon is there, dropping his gear onto the floor. he looks tired--his shoulders sag, and you can see his eyes half-lidded and barely opening.

"simon, i'm...i'm s-sorry, she--"

you're holding his tattered clothes, but before you can say anything more, he grabs you by the shoulders and hugs you so tight. you nearly lose your breath from how he crushes you to his chest, and you let out a quiet whimper when his knees buckle and he falls to the floor with you, cradling your head to his chest and kissing your forehead through the mask over and over.

you're here. you're real. you're alive.

you drop the shredded fabric and hug him back, closing your eyes as you breathe him in. he tips your head back finally, ripping his mask off and kissing you hard.

he doesn't care when he sees the orange cat take a bite of his thrown mask and run away with it.

he can buy a million masks. but his girls--he pulls back from your kiss to stare down at you, intense. he hasn't slept in days, and he hasn't had a decent meal in weeks, camping on different rooftops just to track a shipment, and when that bullet whizzed past his head, all he could think about was you. the cat-bitten plants. the warm food. the cherry dress. some things cannot be replaced.

some brides cannot be ordered again. they don't make them like you.

you are one of a kind.

[bettsfic]

one of the best decisions i've ever made was to stop arguing.

i'd always been an arguer. i was defensive about everything and mindlessly contrary. it wasn't all my fault; i was (and still am) talked down to and patronized a lot, and when you live your life that way, you become kind of a raw nerve and dedicate a lot of energy to trying to prove yourself. someone even told me once, "it's just fun messing with you. you get so upset."

at 23, i was working in an environment where about a half dozen middle aged conservative men were always telling me what to do and explaining things to me. i either argued with them when they said heinous things or stewed about it for hours or even days. and so my new year's resolution one year was simply: no arguing.

it felt a little like defeat at first, like i was no longer standing up for what i believed in, even though no matter how right i was or how much proof i had for my claims, no one had ever been swayed by anything i told them. part of that was because they had no respect for me and didn't take me seriously; the other part was the simple truth that arguments are almost never productive. when someone says something and you immediately reply with, "you're wrong and here's why," a wall goes up and nothing can go over it.

i couldn't just let these men talk at me though, so i started asking questions. not leading questions, not with an intention to prove a point or walk them into a corner. i genuinely wanted to understand how they came to shape the opinions they held. i realized that understanding and agreeing are two different things, and just because i seek to understand doesn't mean i condone.

a truly fascinating thing happened: these men walked into corners all by themselves. it turns out nobody had ever actually tasked them with speaking their opinions aloud to a neutral audience. no one had ever been sincerely curious about them and their views. sure, their loved ones probably asked, "how are you doing?" all the time as a show of affection, but that's much different than, "what do you think?"

knowing what i know now, i think that's true of everyone. how many people ask you for your opinion and listen to what you have to say without speaking their opinion back to you? without judging you? how many people actively and intentionally try to understand you?

it's been over ten years since my resolution and i think i can count the arguments i've gotten into on one hand. one finger, even. it's amazing what happens when someone tries to rile you up, pick a fight with you, and your only response is, "can you elaborate on that?"

you can work someone into a very open and vulnerable state when you ask questions. they eventually run out of their usual talking points and move into the personal. when i do this, it's not like therapy; i'm not trying to help anyone. and it's not like teaching; i'm not trying to educate anyone. i just want to understand how people reach the conclusions they've come to. even after all these years of asking questions and not arguing, it still amazes me how few people in this world feel understood, and how easy it is to get them to open up when you say, "i want to know what you think."