#if you remember any specific words I'd be happy to look for it

[the-sun-and-the-sea]

Hello, it’s the same Anon that asked for the Finnick and Annie story swap and I don’t think that’s the right fic. I think it might have been on fanfiction.net.

Hey, sorry that wasn't it! Unfortunately I really don't read anything on ff.net and I don't know which particular story you're looking for.

If you remember any specific words from the title or description, I would recommend searching for those along with Finnick and Annie's names. Fanfiction.net usually pulls up results with those words present somewhere in the title or description (as opposed to ao3 where you can filter by tags). And since I don't know any words in the title or summary, it's pretty difficult for me to find it.

Here is the original ask in case anyone else knows of this fic!

Hopefully this helps, and good luck!

[irrevocablecondition]

the thing is, it's not an act of spite for me.

it's not an act of revolution or protest. and maybe for other it is out of spite and that's okay, we all have different mindsets, but i am not alive out of spite.

it's not an act of protest for me to keep living. it isn't an act of revolution for me. it isn't something i do out of spite, hell, i don't have enough spite in me for that. it's not spite that stops me from Doing It.

it's remembering. just,,, just remembering.

it's remembering the first time i introduced myself with "robyn", it's remembering sitting with my friends and changing my pronouns online as we ate lunch - pasta, beans, and vegan cheese from my bag. an absolute staple at my sixth form. just a few clicks of some buttons but it felt massive. big. important.

it's remembering how my school found out my name. i hadn't told them, only my friends knew, and we were sat in english class grouping up for a project and my friend said "robyn's with us". there was a few seconds of confused silence until i raised my hand and then our teacher just nodded and carried on. we got some essays back that same day, she'd crossed out my deadname and corrected it. we never spoke about it in any depth, but i hope she knows how much that meant to me. i hope she knows that my very quiet "thank you" doesn't even begin to cover it.

it's remembering my first gender appointment and the trans woman in the waiting room who sat with me and told me everything to expect. she walked me through absolutely everything as i sat there biting my nails, and she stayed there until my appointment ended to ask me how it went. we haven't seen each other since but we text sometimes. she's coming to see me when i go in for top surgery next month.

it's remembering the way i set my phone up when i applied my first dose of T, how i lent it against a bottle of antibac spray on a shitty bookshelf in my crappy homeless shelter. how i had to cut the first four minutes because i was just standing there holding the box, and how i sent that video to the family i had no contact with and they had nothing but love for Me.

it's remembering my first haircut at a barbers, my first list of names, the first deed poll in my hands and the first empty bottle of T, and every one that followed, my first binder, my first roll of tape.

it's the first time i got introduced as a boyfriend, as a brother, as a son. it's remembering the first time i saw my sister after everything went down and she yelled "ROBYN!!!" from across the street and jumped into her big brother's arms even though she was 12 and farrrr too cool for all that mhm.

it's remembering every nod on the street as i pass another trans person and for those couple of seconds, we See each other and we Get It and we aren't so alone. it's the soft smiles in the women's restroom on a night out and the compliments of my hair or my makeup, how we wash our hands together and get drinks together after. it's every customer that says "cheers lad", every time they throw out a simple "he" like it's something so casual. like it was never even a question. it's the optician leading me to the men's stands and pointing out ones that would look good on me. it's the bouncers at clubs who look at my ID and it's that one specific bouncer who looked between me and the photo and said "well done" before letting me and it's just two words but it's remembering that. well done.

it's hope, really.

because i remember every single first, and second, and third. and i remember how easy it all felt - breathing, after i figured it out and everything fell into place. like i'd been walking through life with one side of my nose blocked and i didn't even know until i signed that deed poll.

and i know it will come back. i know it will. that happiness and that joy and that easeee i first felt. i know that's going to come back. at some point, it will come back.

and if, until then, the nods i share with trans people on the street feel more like matching grimaces? then i'm just glad to have been someone to share it with for a few seconds. a few seconds of recognition as we pass on opposite sides, and maybe a glance back to remind myself that we're never really alone.

i'm not staying alive out of spite. it's gonna come back. i know it will, i'm staying alive to see that. i'm staying alive to see it.

[x-reader-things]

Hello!I just stumbled upon your recent post about opening up commissions again. And it makes me happy you do Arcane!😅. Anyway I was maybe hoping for my request/suggestion.

Vi x female reader(She/her). It's just romantic of course!idk of you're comfortable with a single mother fem y/n?like reader already has the child it's ok to not do this!!

I just more so want some Vi x female reader where Vi gets out of Still water and going to find her onve teen girlfriend again baisvally a chess reunion between them

It's been a while since I've written a request, and anything for Arcane in that matter so I hope this isn't too ooc-

Anyways I love Vi <33333

"I trust her."

Vi x f!reader [could be easily read as gn!reader though too, no phsyical specifics about reader were described]

Summary ; In which Vi discovers you're looking after a kid.

Requested? ; Yes.

Warnings ; None, outside of a small description of an injury and some mentions of enforcers being awful.

Word count ; 1.3 k words.

——————————————————————

"You... have a kid?"

The small hellion behind you hid by your legs. He barely reached past your knees. A bit small for a five year old, but given the circumstances of Zaun... it was the norm.

You turned towards the kid, and placed a comforting hand on the top of his head. He visibly relaxed at the gesture, and tentatively peaked out to look at the strong woman in front of you both.

"Not my kid by blood, Vi", you told her with a forced chuckle. "You know me, I don't think I'd get with any of the guys down here in Zaun. Even here in the Firelights."

Vi took her gaze off of the kid, and settled her eyes on you.

"Well...", she started, her tone a bit tense. "It has been, what, seven years? Things change."

Except you, she hoped. Kind hearted, beautiful you. A light in the dark of Zaun and Piltover alike. At least, that's how she described you as when it was just her and Vander, talking about everything and nothing during one of the calmer nights before shit hit the fan.

"Not always", you replied. You kept your voice calm, and careful. A habit you've made for yourself whenever the Firelights let in someone new. It kept the children the group took care of calm, and kept the adults from lashing out. You did that because you had no idea what the newcomers had been through. Be it their addiction to Shimmer, loss of a loved one, or the brutality of an enforcer.

You had to make sure there was a level of trust. And stars know how you needed to keep that up with Vi, with everything she's been through at Stillwater. Keep a level head. Don't let all your old emotions and memories resurface to the cracks you painstakingly had to fill.

Especially with the little guy near your legs, who had begun to stare tiny daggers at Vi.

"This little guy--", you began, voice straining with a bit of effort while you hauled him up to your hip. "--is still new here. Kind of. Won't leave my side, not that I mind. Scar said it was like I was... reverse adopted or something like that."

You smiled wryly at the thought. "I figured why not take him under my wing? Help him acclimate and get used to it here. I had extra space in my room too, so it all worked out."

A small smile pulled at the corners of Vi's mouth. You were still just as kindhearted as when you both were teenagers. Still lovely.

Good, she thinks. That's good.

"So... not your kid then, bird?"

The nickname fell so seamlessly off her tongue. A nickname she gave you because during your little exploits up to Piltover, whenever it was just you and her, you practically flew around the buildings. You had told her it was because you had a good teacher to help you. If Vi remembered correctly, that was around the time of her first kiss with you.

She said you were amazing, you said you had a good teacher and gave her the softest eyes she could ever imagine and then...

Well, your glance away from her said it all. You remembered it too.

She missed you so much.

Clearing your throat, you continued. "No, no, he's still my kid. Best kid all around - and I will be biased, 'cause he's a great helper, isn't that right, Clay?"

Clay, the boy in your arms, nodded. He still glowered at the woman in front of you.

"Doesn't seem like he likes me all that much", Vi said. She shoved her hands back into the pockets of her jacket, and took a small step forward. Clay leaned back into you defensively, and a small arm wrapped around the front of your shoulders. Vi raised a brow at that. A curious one, rather than the usual judgemental one.

You adjusted your hold on the five year old, one hand raised to his back to keep him stable on your hip. Your other hand moved to his arm, and gently pried his hand off of your shoulder. You let him keep a hold on your hand to mess with it, an action you were used to doing by then. Over time you had found out the kid was tactile, and hated being left alone for too long.

"He doesn't trust people he doesn't know too well. Gets quiet, too. Plus you were hauled in here with a bag over your head and got tied up before Ekko found out it was you, and not some other piltie, so...", you shrugged. Vi huffed out a wry laugh.

"Figures. I wouldn't trust me either, kid", she said to Clay. Clay blinked at her, the sharpness in his eyes reducing the slightest bit.

"Vi, here, isn't like those pilties though", you said to him. "She's not like those enforcers from what happened, kiddo. Can't say much for that friend of hers, but Vi's trustworthy. You alright if I show you?"

You held out the hand he was playing with, and opened it with your palm facing up, as if you were offering your hand over to Vi. Clay glanced in between you both, and regarded Vi with a careful scrutiny. When he saw the care in your eyes, and the calmness in both of you, he quietly spoke.

" 'Think so."

"You sure?", you asked. Vi swears your voice got ten times more gentle, ten times more sweet. Although, that could be the nostalgia talking. Nonetheless, it was still there. "I don't wanna do something you're uncomfortable with, bud."

" 'M sure."

"Alright." You nodded at him, and your eyes went back to Vi. Your hand still remained outstretched towards her, a quiet beckon for her to take it into her own. Just like you've done dozens of times before this, when you were just teenagers. Just kids.

Your eyes traced over her. Took in every new scar, every new tattoo and muscle. Her hands were infinitely roughed up, even with the bandages over them. However, it was still her. Still Vi.

Your Vi.

Changes or no changes, she was still the person you grew to love years ago. And hopefully, she still understood that silent plea in your eyes to hold her hand.

Vi's eyes, the softest of powder blue, went gentle. The bags under them still sagged, but the weight of them lightened. Almost tentatively, she raised her hand to yours.

The briefest of touches, her fingertips to yours, sparked with static. Vi flinched her hand away at first, and shared a laugh with you at how sudden it was. But after that, her hand slipped right onto yours.

You squeezed her wrist, and she did the same. You turned her hand over, so that her own hand was laid out, palm up, and raised it just a bit so that Clay could see it better.

"See? She's not so bad", you mumbled. "Rough around the edges, sure, but everyone is. Vi won't hurt you, and she won't hurt me."

Clay stared at Vi's hand, and listened carefully to your words. He reached down, and placed his small hand onto the bandages covering Vi's palm.

The sleeve on his jacket rose up, showing the bandages wrapped around his own wrist. An injury from a harsh scrape he got from running away from an enforcer. By the time you and a few firelights found him, it was already infected. Luckily, back there at the Firelight's tree, there were enough antibiotics there to help. And luckily, he was healing.

Vi and Clay looked up at each other. The tension pulling at Clay's shoulders dropped some, and Vi just gave him a small nod.

"See what I mean, Clay?" Your thumb brushed against her wrist, moving slowly in a crescent shape against her skin. A habit you used to have, years ago. "She won't hurt us."

You gazed back into her eyes. Longing and love and hurt swirled behind them. Tapered down, but still there.

"I trust her."

I missed you.

[reginaphalangelobster]

Sweetheart

Steve Rogers x Reader feat. Avengers

Summary: A simple game slowly leads to a lifetime.

Warnings: a few swear words, some very hot scenes, fluffity fluff, mutual pining, mentions of nomad Steve specifically his hair and beard (yes! that's a warning), reader wearing Steve's hoodie (also a warning, gets me every time, and yes I did write a whole fic about it Hoodie)

Word Count: 3.5k

Notes: I wrote this with a female reader in mind but I think it works for any gender, there are no pronouns used and no use of Y/n, Steve calls reader sweetheart.

Everyone was drinking and having a good time. Tony remembered something he had seen earlier in the day and decided now was the best time to bring it up.

"Y-You know it's weird how fasc-cinated the public is with us" He slurred, waving his scotch around and spilling it slightly.

"How's that, Tones?" You questioned while blinking abnormally fast.

"I saw a-a thhhing on my phone, said vote on each 'venger's best look"

"Like Nat's 'I'm gonna kill you so bad' look?"

"No, ap-pearanceses"

"Ooooh, that's kinda strange, isn't it?"

"What?" Stephen asked as he flung his head up, only hearing the word 'strange'.

"Not you, Dr Otter" You and Tony replied at the same time followed by a small exclamation of acknowledgement.

"It's like a quiz" Tony continued.

"What?" Clint asked.

"The thing I was just talking about"

"Oh, right. A quiz?"

"Yeah, wanna do it?"

"I don't know, I'm not good on tests"

"It's not- It's opinions, not right or wrong"

"Okay, shoot"

Tony cast his phone to the large TV in front of everyone and started the quiz.

"What is the le-legendary genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, Tony Stark himself, 's best look?" He read off the screen.

"You always look pretty much the same" Nat stated.

"First one, little scruffy" Steve said simply.

"Yeah, his hair's cute when it's floppy, like you could run a hand through it and it'd still look adorable" You agreed.

"Adorable? Drunk you is pretty honest, this is gonna be fun" Tony smirked "Natasha Romanoff, the fierce woman of the avengers"

"Oh God" She sighed.

"The half red half blonde, super cute, especially in a braid" You smiled at her.

"I'd have to agree" Bruce added.

"Next, The God of Thunder and long hair, what's Thor's best look?"

"Ooh, the short one!" You exclaimed.

"How dare you?! That was not consensual!" Thor boomed.

"Sorry sweetie, but you've got to admit, it was hot"

"Pfft!" Loki laughed out.

"Did you just go pfft? You don't pfft" Bruce turned to him.

"My brother is not that hot"

"I think Happy's shirt would beg to differ" You counter.

"What about your mug?"

"I don't know what you are referring to"

"The mug that has 'This meeting would be a lot better if one of you were Loki' written across it"

"Oh, that mug. That and Happy's shirt were gag gifts from Tony, like Cap's Cap cap"

"Pardon?"

"Tony got Steve a cap with his Captain America logo on it, so it's Cap's Cap cap"

"You mortals are pointlessly confusing"

"Alright next question, speaking of Gods, Loki the God of Mischief and sexiness has great hair as everyone knows but what look suits him best?"

"I am beginning to like this quiz after all"

"Christmas tree" Nat states blankly.

"I am not beginning to like this. What do you mean Christmas tree?!"

"In New York, your hair had the outline of a Christmas tree. Don't look at me like that, they put tinsel in it" She points to you and Sam.

"ThAt WaS yOu?!"

"He dared me!"

"You said dare me to put tinsel in Loki's hair, I didn't do shit"

"Until I had the tinsel"

"Well it was already there"

"By the great heavenly kingdom of Valhalla I swear I will-"

"Tony, why don't we just move onto the next question?" Steve tried to diffuse the situation before Loki turned everyone into frogs, again.

"The question we've all been waiting for, the most gorgeous avenger, Bucky Barnes!"

"He's the most gorgeous?" Nat asked, a twinge of jealously in her tone.

"You're way prettier than Bucky" You reassured her.

"Hey?" Bucky lightly hit your arm.

"She is" You shrugged.

"Stevie, who's prettier?" Bucky looked to his friend.

"I don't want to choose between my friends"

"Come on, Captain"

"Uh, um.....neither"

"What?" They both blurted out in shock.

"You are" He said softly as he looked into your eyes.

"Th-thank you" You blushed.

"Of course he picked you" Bucky grumbled.

"And last but certainly not least, the very handsome face of the Avengers, Steve Rogers"

"Nomad Steve" You spoke a little too quickly.

"Really?" He asked you.

"Uh-yeah"

"Oh I toootally agree" Sam responded "That slightly long hair, a little unkept"

"And that beard" Bucky agreed.

"And the way he looks like he could just pin you up against a wall and-" You saw everyone looking at you and Steve's face covered in a bright red blush "I'm oversharring again, aren't I?"

"Yes" Bruce said, sitting in the corner, just a little mortified.

"I think that's enough for the night, I'm going to bed" You almost beckon from halfway down the hall already.

You thought that would be the end of the topic, after a while you didn't really think of it at all. Not long after, Steve had to go on a mission and boy did he have a surprise for you when he got back. The mission lasted about a month and you were really beginning to miss him. One evening you opened the door to your room and felt something behind you, someone. They pushed you into your room and slammed the door shut, they spun you around and you saw that it was Steve. You lit up instantly by just seeing his face, he had grown his beard back and his hair was a little messy and longer. Just as you were about to open your mouth to compliment him on the new-old look he pushed you against the wall, no, he pinned you against the wall. He held your wrists tight by your sides, you saw the look of desire in his dark clouded eyes. Before you knew it his lips were on yours, moving fiercely and hastily, full of passion and lust. As he pulled away he bit your bottom lip lightly, causing you to let out a soft whimper. The sound almost making him drop his tough exterior.

"This what you wanted?" His voice was deep and rough, making your body quiver.

"God yes" You breathed out shakily.

He transferred his grip on your wrists to your waist. He lifted you like you were nothing, like you weighed less than a feather. You wrapped your legs around his hips and grasped his neck in your hands, clinging on and keeping him close. He held you up against the wall as he continued kissing you roughly, deeply. You could feel your stomach aching, your whole body was aching, for him. He could feel the heat radiating off you as he trail open mouthed kisses down your jaw and it was addictive. You tilted your head back and to the side, giving him better access to your neck. He found that soft spot under your ear that made you moan so sweetly and his lips latched on. He sucked and bit marks that were sure to turn bright purple and he ran his tongue back over the spot gently, soothing your inflamed skin.

He kept up this pace, kissing and sucking and biting and licking all over your neck and upper chest. You tugged on his hair, rough enough that it made him bite your shoulder, hard. The sensation of his teeth sinking that far into you made you throw your head back even further and let out an almost primal, animalistic moan that just spurred him on all the more.

His fingers dug into your hips, certain to leave bruises you would admire for days. He pulled you off the wall and sat you on your dresser.

"Y-you know" You began, your words near breathy moans at this point "The bed's over there"

"Soon. First I want you on every surface possible"

His tone mixed with his words made your breath hitch, you could've sworn your heart stopped for just a moment. One of his hands came up and ripped your shirt off. He tossed it to the side and you toyed with the hem of his. You pulled it up slowly, running your fingers over the taught muscles of his body. You pulled the shirt over his head and when his hands returned to you they were on your thighs. His lips flew down your neck and to your chest. He kissed every inch of you within his reach, the feel of him all over you, hot and wet. He undid the top button of your pants and lifted you again. Your hands moved from his neck and discarded your pants on the floor. He carried you to the couch and laid you down. He hovered over you and you scrambled for his belt.

"Uh uh, not yet" The teasing in his tone made you squirm under him.

"Well that's not very fair is it?"

"Life's not fair sweetheart"

He continued his mission, his mouth was all over you. He moved down the couch, sitting between your legs. It was quite a sight, Steve Rogers, Captain America, America's golden boy, situated between your legs, looking up at you with the gaze of a starved animal. He took one of your legs, started at your ankle and kissed his way down. The contrast between your silky smooth skin and his rough scratchy beard made you grateful to be alive. He moved tantalisingly slow, never breaking eye contact for a second. It was like your eyes were tethered to stare at each other forever and you wouldn't have it any other way. You looked down past your heaving chest to see your knee slung over his shoulder. His chest was pressed up into the back of your thigh, pushing your muscles just right. His lips went so low, so close, so far down your inner thigh and he pulled away. The bastard pulled away. You never would have thought he'd be a tease. He did the same to your other leg, starting at the ankle and working his way almost all the way down. He laid down, his shoulders under both of your legs and he got so close. He kissed your lower stomach and he moved down. Finally, you thought. He kissed over the top of your underwear, taking the waist band in his teeth, pulling just a few inches away and releasing it, flicking against your body. He pulled even further away, devastating you.

"Steve" You whined "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Watch out or I'll have to put that dirty mouth of yours to good use"

"Please do"

He chuckled low, the sound reverberating through you and sending shivers down your spine. You kissed him again, this time soft and sweet, full of the love you had been hiding for so long.

He pulled away and stared down at you, at your beautiful face. He meant what he said that day, he thought you were beautiful, so beautiful it hurt. It hurt when he saw you get all dressed up for galas and charity events in those fancy clothes that fit your body so well. Or when you'd go out to clubs with Nat and Sam, those two always dragged you out, trying to get you to meet someone but you were never interested. For so long it had only been Steve. Wearing something outrageously short for the '40s like Steve was used to, but you looked amazing, you looked amazing in anything. He remembered the first time you trained together and you wore skin tight workout gear, he barely made it through the hour. But his favourite, his absolute favourite, was when you had just woken up. When your hair was all messy and your eyes were only half open. You'd say good morning in a raspy voice full of sleep and you'd smile at him so softly he thought he'd melt. All he wanted was to see that smile and hear that voice every morning for the rest of his life. One day was just, he didn't know quite what. It was an oddly chilly morning for that time of year and all of your winter clothes were packed away. You looked through the freshly washed laundry you had done the day before and you found a blue hoodie, it looked so comfortable and soft and most importantly warm. You pulled it on over your head and it fell halfway down your thighs, just covering the pyjama shorts you were wearing. You walked down the hall and into the kitchen like you did every morning. You greeted Steve and he greeted you back before noticing what you were wearing. It looked like you were wearing his hoodie, only his hoodie, nothing else. He blinked for a moment, opening and closing his mouth, trying to speak but not knowing what to say. You reached up to grab a mug off the top shelf and the hoodie rose up. He didn't want to look, no that was a lie, he thought he shouldn't look but he couldn't help himself. When he was met with the sight of your shorts you could say he was more than a little disappointed. You turned around and saw him staring at you.

"What?" You laughed "I can't have something in my teeth, I haven't eaten yet"

"I-is that my hoodie?"

"Oh, that's who. I'm sorry, it was in my laundry and I was cold. I can give it back"

"No you look nice. Nice and warm" He only just caught and corrected himself.

"Thanks"

He didn't know it yet but ever since that day, whenever you were feeling sad you wore his hoodie and it comforted you more than anything else.

He brought himself out of his memory haze and back to now, to you. He saw you looking up at him, wondering what he was thinking. He leaned down and whispered into your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

"Sweetheart, you've been so good, it's time for your reward"

He picked you up and you latched onto him once again. This time he finally took you to the bed. He laid you down so soft and gentle like he was handling something so precious, he was. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and his finger trailed down your cheekbone. His hand moved back to cradle your head and his thumb caressed your cheek so lovingly. His usually innocent blue eyes stared into yours, boring into your soul. The two of you truly connected, in a way neither of you had with anyone else, only each other.

You woke up the next morning, in his arms. You couldn't believe you were finally where you had dreamed of being for so long. In fact you actually pinched yourself, just to be sure. You couldn't help but smile even brighter when you looked back up to see him looking down at you. This was one of those moments you'd experienced so many times before. It took you completely out of the moment and you noticed just how pretty he really was. His eyes, full of so much hope and joy matched with pain and sadness. His eyes, full of time, years of time and he wanted to spent the rest of it with you. He laid on his back, his chest rising and falling with his steady breaths. His right hand was snaked around your waist, even in his sleep his grip never faltered. You laid on your left side, your cheek on his chest, snuggled up to him. Your right hand was laying across his body, tracing random patterns slowly.

"Morning" There it was, there was that sweet, soft, raspy voice he had longed for.

"Morning sweetheart"

You giggled slightly at the pet name, your pet name. He called you that because to him, that's what you were. You were so sweet he thought he'd get a cavity. You always did whatever you could for others, sometimes they knew and sometimes they didn't. Like the way you helped Bucky. When he first came to the tower he only had Steve, Tony was still upset with him and after hearing what had just transpired the rest of the team weren't very welcoming. But you were different. You trusted Steve's judgement and you welcomed Bucky. He stayed in Steve's room for a while, still too scared to be alone in a tower full of people who didn't much care for him. You decided the best way to get to know Bucky and hopefully help him was to get to know him in a setting he felt comfortable in. You brought a sleeping bag to Steve's room and explained your thinking. Bucky was offered the bed and the couch but he still chose the floor, so you joined him. Steve was in his room with the door open and you and Bucky were in the small living room attached. He was by Steve's door and you kept you distance, trying not to crowd him by sleeping on the other side of the room. He curled up and faced away from you. You heard him gasp for air as he came out of a nightmare. You slowly approached him and took his flesh hand in both of yours. You were gentle but your grasp was firm, reassuring him that he wasn't in his nightmare. Steve got up and came to the door but you shook your head and he stepped back. He trusted you too and he knew that you had a lot of experience with nightmares, you helped him after all. You slept with Bucky on Steve's floor for a month, until Bucky was ready to go to his own room. You slept on his floor for the first night, then you returned to your own room, next door. Sharing a wall, you were able to hear when he had a nightmare and you always came and sat with him like you did that first night. Thankfully, after some time, the nightmares were a rare occasion for him.

Steve loved how you cared for his friend, for everyone. He was the only one who noticed the small things you did. One of the simplest but kindest being whenever you would go to the grocery store you would buy a box of pop-tarts, a dozen plums, a bag of decaf coffee and a punnet of blueberries. Pop-tarts for Thor because he ate them at an alarming rate, plums for Bucky of course, decaf coffee because it always worried you how much coffee Tony drank, so you would replace it with decaf whenever you had the chance, and blueberries also for Tony, he liked having a snack while he worked and they distracted from the coffee.

There were other little things you'd do that just made Steve fall for you even more. If someone had a tough mission you'd cook their favourite meal for dinner, perfectly, and if their suit was torn you'd sew it up. They didn't ask you to or expect you to but you'd just take it and return it to them, fully mended and cleaned. Whenever you noticed his pencils were getting short or his sketchbook was getting full you'd go to the little store that had the supplies he liked. You wouldn't make a fuss about it, you usually just left a book and a box of pencils on his bedside table. And God, did he love to draw you. The first time he tried he obsessed over it, wanting the sketch to be as perfect as you. After a while it became almost mindless, if he didn't know what to draw he'd find himself drawing you.

He looked down at you now, lying in his arms with a huge smile on your face.

"I love you" It just slipped out, he meant it, he did love you but he didn't want to scare you off. He panicked for a moment when you didn't respond.

"I love you too"

He sighed a huge breath of relief "You know you're everything to me, right?"

"I do now"

You brought your hand up to his cheek, you thumb ghosted over his lips.

"You call me sweetheart"

"I do"

"Why?"

"Because you're so kind and giving, you always put the team first and you're well, sweet. Like with the pop-tarts and plums"

"You're the reason"

"What do you mean?"

"I saw your face when I got you a sketchbook or when I got Bucky plums, you know, small things. I saw the way you looked at me or at least the way I hoped you looked at me and I wanted to see that look again"

"Really?"

"Why else do you think we have plum pies every other week? Or enough Pop-tarts to feed an army, or I guess Thor for a couple weeks"

"You did that just to see me happy when I was watching you?"

"Yeah" You said nervously, hoping he wouldn't think you were quite as pathetic as you felt.

"God, I love you"

He pulled you into a kiss and you could feel his smile against your lips.

Tags:

@impetusofadream @goldfishthegr8 @avengers-official-recruit-agent @goreygirl03 @xenasolos @sparklyturtlefox @rios-sythe @nekoannie-chan @ilovemarvel12 @hayneyney @n3ponen @8812-342 @everyonesfriend @pinkthick @craftytacopiecash @meryuniverse @aliljaybird @yelldontwhisper @justhereforthememesnangst @lonely-core

[incidentallysunny]

Through The Skin

Real Uncle!Leon

Dead dove warning.

7k word count. Proof read lightly. Critique is welcomed and my skin is thick for it.

I'd like to appear in the tagz pls so here's a warning. My writing is not ever meant to be taken literally and is just for the sake of writing fxcked up content that I enjoy writing. If you do not wish to read this, please do not as my intentions are not to offend or make you intentionally uncomfortable but if you choose to read- don't be hateful. With that out of the way, extremely sensitive content and dead dove material ahead.

Specifically blood-related incest, smut, suicidal ideation, mentions of grotesque imagery, light mentions of gore in a hypothetical scenario, age-gap, overall just some disturbing topics.

As far as smut specifically: this includes talking of public sex, public female oral-recieving, Leon has dick piercings surprise, make and female oral, fingering, unprotected sex, cream-pie (wrap your willy irl pls) praise, dirty talk, spitting, any probably some other irrelevant shit I'm forgetting my bad.

PROCEED if you read the above, are okay with it, and are mentally unwell like I am. Happy reading, it's a long one.

To be quite frank, you didn’t give a shit about a single holiday party that your parents threw. Having to hug and touch on people you didn’t even know, putting on a fake smile and pretending as if you remembered them at all. Exhausting for a young woman to keep up this charade for so long. You’re sure your relatives noticed the dying spark in your eyes over time. Living Growing does that to a person. You spent all night fetching beers and other pre-packaged, alcoholic drinks- hoping he would show up every time you had to hand one out. Still one less face you’re can be enthralled to see.

You sat at the dining table, leaned onto an elbow with your face in your palm. Clearly a dejected and annoyed pose but everyone here was too cheery or already deep in the ‘special occasion’ wine bottle to even piece that together. Your other hand traced the ringed patterns in the wood surface, wondering how old it had been before it was chopped down ruthlessly by some hot guy with a chainsaw who was getting paid way too much to be fucking up nature left and right. All so that some college-aged girl could sit at the furniture it had been made into and sulk. God, an almost 40 year old tree. That’s pretty fucking old. You’re glad it lived a somewhat long life (in human years, not tree years.) ‘Cause some trees live a few hundred or even thousand years. So maybe it was taken too soon before it became the placeholder for your familial drunken talks. While you were distracted, annoyed, and pitying yourself, the table all erupted into ‘Hey, long time no see!’s , laughter, and other delightful sentiments that were jolly and deafening enough to make you jump. Loud noises weren’t your thing.

Before you could regain your composure and turn your torso in the hand-carved, deep-brown varnished chair- a hand graced the presence of your slumped shoulder.

“Hey, babydoll. Long time no see.” The voice greeted, husky and rough like a patch of concrete you’ve definitely scraped your knee on a time or two. Basically, it was familiar, which is what you’re getting at.

Uncle Leon.

You turned your full body now, swinging your legs to the side of the seat- a few laughs slopped from the table.

Everyone knew how much you loved and fawned over your Uncle- your dad rivaling how much you seemed to prefer his brother over him. Well duh, dad. It’s because he’s fun and you’re a hard-ass. And ugly to look at. Your poor, poor mom.

It had been years since you saw your uncle. Since you were freshly 18, to be exact. Your dad wasn’t too keen on having him around his barely-legal daughter- probably because he could practically smell it on you that you want your uncle to pop your cherry. You still remembered his few quirks, too. He was always sloppy yet casually drunk wherever he was, he hated fireworks (due to PTSD as your dad explained), and he had always been known to be grabby with people- probably because of the alcohol. He was a weird guy, but you loved him all the same. It broke the normalcy of your home and made things interesting to be around him. However- none of this was the focus. His stubble, dark-liquored bags under his eyes that almost resemble eyeliner, and dark-tinted hair were. And god, his chin. Could be a replacement for a Sybian, if you had one. All of that aside, he looks sexy. That’s so fucking weird to say about your dad’s brother, but calling it weird is also so outdated. Fucking your hot, middle-aged uncle is in; getting a boyfriend your age is out.

You stood up swiftly, hugging him tightly around the waist and almost toppling him. He chuckled, steadying himself with one arm around your back and the other on the table to catch himself. Once he felt he was steady enough, the other arm joined around you- the embrace squeezing you like a stress ball. You worried that your eyes might be a little more loose in your skull than before.

“Gotta be careful, kiddo. You’re gonna take down your uncle one of these days.” He teases, moving out of the hug and letting his hands explore their way down your back- resting on the small of it. Digits perched like a bird where your back starts to curve into your ass- not sweetly or gentle- but like one of those huge-taloned hawks that would rip your flesh off. You only say that because his hands are big and rough- and you’ve heard stories of what your uncle does for work (plus the alcohol is making him need to stabilize himself so he doesn’t crash you both into the nearby counter and cause any serious brain injury. At least then you could excuse the bubbling of strange feelings as TBI). Oh, and with how handsy he was known to be (Just ask your Aunt Claire on your mom’s side). But he had never been that way with you- not until now.

You see your dad eyeing him like the same kind of big-taloned hawk from across the table. They’re cut from the same feathers- except your dad must have been the one that never learned to fly. Pushed out of the nest by a sharp shove of a beak and bit every branch of the ugly tree on the way down. Cause he’s a lot weaker and uglier than your uncle. How he pulled your mom is a miracle and a mystery.

“Hey, uh. Honey. Come sit back down. No need in playing into your uncle’s fashionably late, drunken stupor.” He quips towards you while grilling Leon about being late, nursing his own drink with that ugly grin. You roll your eyes. Leon removes his hands from you- putting them up in defense of himself and leaving your back with an empty feeling.

“Hey, hey. Just hugging my beautiful niece.” He turned to address you again. “Been years since I’ve seen you, sweetheart. Look even better than your momma.” You feel a blush creep up at Leon’s words, but your dad clears his throat and your mom pays him no mind. Just an eye roll and sip of a wine cooler. To be honest, even she probably fucked your uncle. You couldn’t blame her if she did.

You huff and sit back down, crossing your arms. Your dad always had to ruin everything. If you fuck your uncle or kiss him or whatever and don’t like it, you can just go to therapy. Leon snickered behind you, patting your shoulder before leaning in next to your ear.

“Come join me out on the deck in a bit. I’m sure you’re tired of being smothered in here with the fun police.”

You feel muggy from his words. Like a Louisiana swamp type muggy. Is your hair sticking to you? Are there zika-virus bearing mosquitos pricking you or is that just undiagnosed anxiety?

You bounce your leg under the table while you hear the sliding door open and close in the distance. Minutes pass of you twiddling your thumbs- and you excuse yourself to sneak off- exiting out the same heavy sliding door that Leon used.

When you sealed it behind you- the smell of whiskey filled your nostrils- sizzling off any hairs that your nose so proudly grew for much needed germ-protection. A hand slapped itself gracelessly onto the glass above you in the dark, trapping you in place. Predictable uncle.

“Shit, sorry sweetheart. Lost my footing. Y’know how it is. I’m always taking spills here and there.” You felt giddy and blistered all over, speaking back to him.

“S’okay. Sorry about dad.” You excused, breathing in. Leon’s other hand patted you low on your hip as he chuckled into your ear- sending off more whiskey breath.

“It’s okay, sweet thing. Your dad can be that way. I’m not exactly safe to be around in his eyes. Besides, he’s just doing his job- looking out for his little girl.” He explains, not making any efforts to move. You predicted this- but it wasn’t unwelcome.

“Why’s that?” You dare to ask, sounding purposefully puzzled- but Leon knows better. And you know the answer.

“It’s ‘cause your Uncle likes ‘em young and pretty.” He mulls the information over you, the words sliding down you like a vibration that sets off a perfect sensation to your already throbbing clit. Because you’re always horny. The hand on your hip now kneads your ass under your skirt- somehow getting there without notice.

“O-oh.” You choke on the word like it’s quicksand in your throat- but only the quicksand is the prospect of having your uncle plow you until you develop early onset dementiaSo really, the quicksand isn’t bad in this instance. You jump into it face first for a good mouthful.

“Shouldn’t be wearing something so short when you know your dirty old uncle is coming over. Can’t keep my eyes where they’re supposed t’be.” He mutters low, leaning down to tickle the shell of your ear with his voice.

“Knew you were coming over. I wanted to look pretty for you.” Saying it makes your head spin, but like in the good way. The sound Leon makes is between a groan that says ‘good god, I’m going to bury my cock inside you right the fuck now’ and ‘I figured as much’. A simple cocktail of horniness and knowing.

“Mm, just want to kiss you everywhere, you know? Love it how sweet you are.” He murmurs into your scented hair, using the hand from the wall to push aside any strands that are in his way. He kisses the back of your neck and his breath scorches your skin. The affection is sloppy and leaves small bits of saliva behind, his barely-darting-out tongue making you ache even more.

“U-uncle.” You shuddered, a slight protest to your voice. Not ‘cause you don’t like it but because you’re worried someone will see. Or that you’ll never want off of his dick. He can be your personal IUD, all buried in your cervix.

Leon ignored the shared thought that someone could see because the way you referred to him made his dick jump in his jeans. Plus, the whole family knows he’s a sleeze. They’d see him balls deep in you and say ‘Ah, that’s Leon for you’ And look the other way until his next sexual prospect. One of the many reasons that Aunt Claire doesn't visit and Aunt Ada divorced his ass. Her loss. You’d happily share him if it were you. It’s only right to share a man that looks like a washed-up pornstar. His dick is great too. Not ‘cause you’re guessing- but because you saw it one time. Last time you saw him actually- the whole incident that left you wanting to see him again oh-so-badly. He had stumbled in the bathroom to piss- ignoring you at the sink. It’s whatever, he was totally wasted and probably didn’t see you. Nor did he probably see the fact you were gawking at his big dick. Or his nice ass, cause he had let his pants drop completely in his hazy state.

“Mm, what is it, babydoll? Hey- Think anyone’d notice if I fingered this sweet little pussy right now?” His voice cut through your memory and thick, long fingers teased the swell of your pussy lips through your underwear, making your hips contract with excitement. Your breath fans over the glass and smogs it.

“I don’t know- maybe.” You huff, trying to keep your composure. It sure is fucking hard when God’s gift to women is about to finger-fuck you at your parent’s house with 20 or so family members inside the property. You second guess yourself now. Maybe God's gift to women doesn’t go around playing with a pussy that belongs to their niece. Or maybe God was fed up with some girls missing out so he created sexually-attractive uncle’s to even any scores. You’ll be attending church this upcoming Sunday. Not because you’re going to follow through with blood-related fornication but because you want to thank the higher-ups properly for this fine piece of ass you’re about to receive from. Or maybe you shouldn’t step foot there, the whole ‘bursting into flames for egregious sinning’ type thing. Wait a minute- there’s literally daddy-daughter incest in the Book of Genesis, so you’ll happily sin away and tell god to fuck off while doing it. Okay maybe that’s a little uncalled for.

Leon tugged your panties to the side, breathing shakily.

“Fuck. I gotta see it, baby.” He mumbles, dropping to one knee with the other bent and still supporting the front of him. Underwear aside, he uses his hands to spread you out- taking in the sight of your damp folds. Damp is putting it lightly. His thumb collects some of your slick and he nearly cums right there.

“You save your first time for me?” He questions. In his mind, you’ve already had a dick or two. He can work with that. Those little guys your age don’t match up to him, but he’s blindsided when you whine about being a virgin, begging him to stick it in or something. Now, Leon’s not the greatest guy morally. At all. But if he’s going to pop your pussy like a soda cap for the first time, he’s going to do it in private cause he’s not stopping for anything. And privacy allows just that. Again- it’s not about it being special, just private. He’ll turn you out good and well.

“Sorry sweetheart. I wanna fuck this needy hole when it’s just us. Think you can wait?” He asks, before darting his tongue out to taste you and lapping up any of you that’s continuously dripping out from pent-up arousal. Your knees almost buckle and he puts his hands under the curve of your ass to hold you still. Your brain goes so mushy you almost forgot to respond.

“Y-yes, uncle Leon.” You whine like a pathetic puppy- begging for something that it didn’t need. But actually, you did need your uncle’s dick so badly. He laughs against your cunt, seemingly happy with that answer. Before you can properly nut like you want, you see your dad pass by in the distance of the sliding door. You tap the glass gently to alert Leon with a small series of clicks. He shoots his head up, yanking your panties back into place and using the sleeve of his leather jacket to wipe his mouth.

“Fuck- always such a blue-balling asshole for anyone, I swear. Sorry, pretty girl.” He smooths down your hair, making sure you look presentable. Well- besides your face that’s red enough to be used as a lit flare.

“Go inside. I’m sure he’s looking for you, babydoll.” He grabs you drunkenly by the upper arm, pulling you in to kiss you on the cheek.

“Come by mine sometime. I’ll be home, for once.” He mutters the last part, loosening his hold on you and starting down the steps of the deck.

“Okay. I’ll see you later, Uncle Leon.” You sound so disappointed and miserable. Pouty. Leon gets it.

“Later, babydoll.”

He heads down the path of the backyard and through the connecting gate that leads to the driveway, the sound of his motorcycle’s engine revving is the cue that he’s definitely headed off.

You let yourself back in, acting inconspicuous. But your dad is already waiting with crossed arms. Yuck.

“Did I not tell you several times about hanging around your uncle. He’s a weird guy. I don’t mind him coming over but, god.” He lays into you, mostly just insulting his brother. You roll your eyes as you normally do. You’ve never not had an attitude with your father. He was born to be shit on in your eyes- barely deserved your mom, as is. Besides, He had no backbone whatsoever.

“Just go upstairs.” He asked, cause he never told you to do anything. Just asked and hoped you’d listen. You were pleased enough to have gotten as much as your uncle tonguing your cunt, so you can comply a bit longer. You go upstairs to your room, shutting the door and lying down.

—

It’s a week later when you finally get to see your uncle. You managed to convince your dad to let you borrow his car, ‘cause you’re a broke college student and can’t afford that right now. Plus you’re spoiled but not enough for a car, apparently. Whoops. Probably because your dad knows as soon as he signs the papers, you’re going to drive to his brother’s house and impale yourself on his dick for life. He’d rather you go to college and get a train ran on you or something, at least.

You hoped you had remembered the right place at first, until Leon’s motorcycle was spotted in the lot. Good, he’s home. You still questioned your memory as you were walking up the flights of stairs in the apartment building, tugging down the back of your skirt when you felt it was airing out your ass too much (for any passerbys, not Leon). After reaching the 12th floor and navigating the scarily clean hallway (the few decorations in the area made it less horror-esque), you found the right (?) door. Your knock was soft because again, you weren’t entirely sure. Just going off of childhood memories.

After hearing a shuffle inside, it didn’t take long for it to swing open, Leon standing in the doorway shirtless with a pair of grey, thin sweatpants loose on his hipbones. His v-line was saying hello to you. Hello to you, too.

“Pretty girl! Hey! Thought you’d never come by. Sorry about the attire- been having a lazy day since I’m off work.” He moved aside for you to come in, the door shutting behind you when you accepted the unspoken invitation. His place was nice. A little cluttered with a half-packed suitcase; clothes messily thrown on top and some paperwork and a passport in a heap on the desk nearby, but still nice. Not to mention spacious. Thank god.

“It’s okay, really. You deserve some relaxation time, you know?” You try to be cool and collected- not getting to the main point of your visit. Even if you did have genuine interest in your uncle as a person.

“Isn’t that the truth? Want a drink?” He asked, already walking towards his kitchen. You don’t immediately reply because the sway of his ass is… something else, but you manage to snap yourself from the hypnotizing gaze of it. He’s got a whiskey glass and bottle already on the counter, waiting for a reply.

“Sure.” You tell him, knowing damn well you can’t handle your alcohol. You get all fucking lovey and touchy, and you’ve only drank like 3 times. And sure. You did come here to fuck him, but you were nervous. Okay, never mind. That gives a complete need for liquid courage.

He makes his way to the hallway- switching something on the AC control before sitting on the couch, adjacent from the chair you’re nestled in. You’re taking small sips of the whiskey, burning your throat, sinuses, and any nervousness down like a forest fire. Leon just sits, legs splayed apart like how men always sit. Except you can see his fat-ass dick print. God, kill me now. Or after I’ve sucked it, at least. You see, too, what looks like indents in the fabric- piercings maybe? Or the folds of the pants are sitting weird.

“Did you find the place okay?” He asks, coming off like he cares- which he does- but he’s mostly waiting to get you and himself sloppy for fucking so he’s just stalling now.

You nod, bottom lip tucked into your mouth- if you talk it’s going to be about his dick being huge or his dick being inside you. Leon allows you another deep sip, finishing off the liquid completely.

“I actually remembered how to get here just about perfectly.” You spoke, laughing a little. Yeah, you’d be gone completely in a few minutes. You already felt yourself slipping into a hazy, bubbly state. Leon could tell, too. Good for him. He loved when the girl was sloppier than the pussy attached to her.

“Smart girl. Always have been.” He took a long, heavy drink- finishing off his glass. You watched how his stomach twitched or moved even the slightest when he adjusted himself, the same with his arms. He was muscular yet lean- like he didn’t eat enough some days. Figures. Beauty isn’t easy and he looked good, and maybe that’s why he got plastered all the time so easily. No appetite=no tolerance. However, you were most certainly not afraid to look at the hard work. Even more so with alcohol brewing in your stomach acid and then liver.

Leon patted his leg, fingers drumming on the material of his sweatpants.

“Come sit. You can tell me more about it on your uncle’s lap.” Gross. Gross in the hot way. The gross-hot way you want him to fold and twist you like a pretzel. So no, you don’t abhor the idea of sitting in his lap.

You don’t even hesitate, standing and nearly falling over- realizing you forgot how wobbly your legs could get while inebriated. Leon reached forward to grab your hand and waist, letting you fall directly onto his lap, ass to crotch. Like a puzzle piece. An incestual puzzle piece- which ideally shouldn’t fit together but it just does.

You feel his cock twitch under you; he’s anticipated this, obviously. His hands slid up your thighs, and down again, then back up- like he’s appreciating them.

“Got the prettiest legs, baby. Want them on your uncle’s shoulders, don’t you?” He cooed, scooting you to the edge of his lap just enough to get his cock out of his bottoms. You turn to look behind you, twisting yourself a bit to get a look at it. Christ. One, he was big. The kind of dick that couldn’t stand ‘cause it was heavy and long. Two. It had a few piercings down the front of his shaft, gleaming in the light. So not only were you about to take your first dick, but a pierced one (like you had suspected). Okay…you didn’t remember seeing those the only other time you ever saw his dick by accident. New additions.

Leon stroked your hair with the hand that wasn’t holding his dick.

“Trust me, feels a lot better than it looks. I promise it doesn’t hurt. Even for virgins.” He adds, like he knows that for a fact. “Nothing you can’t handle for me.”

Okay, he’s right. You’d take his fist if it meant his approval, honestly. How bad could it be?

You move to spin yourself around on his lap, Leon’s amused at your eagerness. He holds his cock, spitting down onto it so he can stroke himself while he puts a hand onto your neck. You’re pulled by the hold into a slow, messy, spitty kiss. He’s definitely experienced, as you are not. His tongue makes its way against yours like he’s silently teaching you how to kiss him open mouthed. Not so hard, you think. He groans into your mouth as he handles himself, maneuvering his cock to brush against your underwear; prodding your clothed clit under your skirt.

You mewl against his lips which only spurs him to kiss you a little more rough now, assuming you’re ready for it. Which you definitely don’t mind. His hand squeezes the side of your neck affectionately, a thumb tracing the skin. You’re thankful you’re in his lap because your knees are weak and your head feels dizzy. It was an exchange of sighs and heavy breathing- no distance. Your hands tangled into his dark locks which is something that Leon loved; having his hair pulled (you could tell by his lusty growl and the shift of his hips). He truly was the epitome of a kinky, dirty old man. If pushing 40 was old. Well, to be fair, you did call the dead tree of a table at your parent’s house old, ‘cause it was 40.

He pulled off of you, your now un-joined mouths drippy with saliva.

“Get in between your Uncle’s legs. Wanna see that pretty mouth on this cock.” He urged, and you found yourself with your calves folded under you in between his parted thighs. He held his cock proudly, and to be honest, the piercings look daunting. How did you even expect yourself to suck on it like you’ve seen in porn? Maybe you should have spent more time watching guys with pierced dicks instead of the step category. You had a preference, clearly.

You snaked your hands up to him, holding his cock with a puzzled look clear on your face. Leon laughed, not like he was laughing at you but the way you laugh at someone when you think what they’re doing is cute.

“Don’t worry about them too much, gorgeous. Just do it how you think you would normally. But pay careful attention with your tongue. Won’t hurt me any, promise.” He reassures you thoroughly, chuckling through a sexually intense gaze. Okay, it seems…. easy enough. Didn’t know dirty old uncles could be so sweet about having their dick sucked.

You lean forward, Leon guiding the head to your mouth.

“Just go slow and focus on the tip. Don’t want my girl to be uncomfortable, now do I?” His girl? You liked the sound of that. Enjoyed it very much. You’d be his girl wherever and whenever. You took him past your lips- suckling on the tip softly and swirling your tongue around it.

“Just like that- fuck- you’re doing great, babydoll.”

The praise edged you on, and you managed enough confidence to glide your tongue down his shaft and over the piercings- flicking over them pornographically. You felt like it was just right. If fucking your uncle could be right in any way of the sense. Leon groaned and his head fell back onto the couch. A large hand found its way to your hair, holding it into a makeshift ponytail. You discovered that it wasn’t too daunting- it was possible to bob your head a little while keeping your tongue exploring the piercings in small swirls and flicks. Just makes your jaw a little tired faster. Besides, seems less scary than taking it inside you.

It’s an alternation of the previous movements and kitten licking up the front of him, and the adornments on his skin only seem to make everything feel much more stimulating. His breath deepens and he guides you now with your hair in hand- looking down at you through deep-brown bangs.

“Fuck- that’s it. Just look at you, dirty little niece I’ve got here, sucking her uncle’s cock like she was made for it. God- so damned pretty with your tongue on me.” His head falls back again for a moment, before he sits up- his labored panting evident.

“Christ. Okay- can’t take it anymore. C’mon, baby. Up.” He says, smacking your bottom when you stand in front of him. You’re feeling a bit ‘five seconds away from crashing into the coffee table and impaling yourself on the broken wood’ type of drunk now.

“Uncle Leon’s gonna pop that cherry, got it? Now sit down and let me lick that sweet pussy. Can still taste it after last time.” He’s speaking filthy things you should hear and run in the opposite direction from- but you don’t.

“My room. Remember where that is?” He mumbles, standing behind you now while he runs his hands down your sides- possessively grabbing at any fabric on you.

You shake your head no.

“Can’t remember. Need you to show me.” You whisper to him, putting your hands over his on your sides. He just muffles a laugh into the crook of your neck and shuffles you along in front of him, the two of you almost falling over multiple times on the way to his bedroom. You’re sure that something did get knocked off the wall at one point, but you literally do not care in any way.

Leon staggers you into the room and pushes you back onto the bed, shedding off his sweatpants. Naked, no boxers. Just full, thick cock and a trail of hair leading up to his belly-button that you haven’t let your eyes leave for however long you’ve been here. Oh, and muscled thighs. One of the greater parts of a man. His hands find their way to your thighs, tugging you to the edge of the bed before invading his thumbs into the waistband of your panties.

“Let’s get these off.” He grunts, pulling them down your legs and tossing them only for the undergarment to land in an unseen place. You go to tug off your skirt, until his hands pin yours to the bed.

“Want you to keep that on. Looks cute.” He says, retracting from you and sinking down at the edge of the bed. In no wasted time, his mouth is lazily lapping at your cunt- making your back bend in the reaction of immediate, overwhelming pleasure. You grabbed at the sheets until you remembered how his body responded when you pulled at his hair- so you found your hold there instead. Tugging his darkened strands with the pace he was eating you out at- stubble against your pussy and nose in your mound. His cheeks tickled your thighs, punching out a soft giggle and squirm from your body between the moaning. It makes him smile into you- reaching a hand up to knead your breast. Honestly, you hoped that the roof caved in right now and took you to your death because no moment would be better than this and that in itself made you suicidal.

You feel a finger slip past your hole, curling itself into that soft wall of fleshy, orgasmic sponge. The noise that left you was new, for sure and the muscle in his mouth jerked against your clit in tandem. It seemed Leon had the same deep feeling and worry you did about his dick even fitting, cause he added a second finger. Then tried to add a third but gave up because he actually wanted his dick to do that labor. He can be selfish, okay? It didn’t take long for you to cum either, duh. He was a skilled whore of a man and you’re a virgin. Or will be for only a few more minutes- probably less.

Your legs shake and tense, your heart thumps viciously, and your fingers threaten to tangle his hair into knots and make him start balding. Not happening no matter how hard you yank, though. His genes are too good for that. He was made for rough pulls to his mane. Made to take damage both mentally and physically. Made for splitting open cute, slutty nieces like you.

While you recovered, he licked his lips and fingers as clean as he could- missing the further parts of his stubbled cheeks. He stood up, hand on his lower back (‘cause duh, he’s old as dirt), and reached into the nightstand for a condom- which you gave him a look before he could open it. A look that told him ‘please, please, please don’t put it on! sure, fuck your blood-relative niece raw and possibly knock her up! Might not have to worry because you’re an alcoholic and your sperm quality is low, though.’ So fuck away.

He was a sucker for your big, glossy eyes and the slutty pout of your bottom lip. Not mentioning- he wouldn’t have worn a condom anyway. Would have just slipped it off before he stuck his dick in you. A virgin couldn’t tell the difference. What? You expected a man that fucks his own family to have morals for things lesser than that? No chance.

“Please, Uncle.” You begged softly, Leon knowing what you want without actually saying it. He’s great at reading people.

“Fucking hell. You’re something else. You want it that bad, huh?” He laughed, pleased by you beseeching him with so little words. You nodded, no objections about it. He tossed the unopened condom back in the drawer and shut it impatiently, making the lamp wobble.

“Changed my mind. Everything off. Gotta see that pretty set of tits.” The words were matter of fact and laced with a bit of erection-fueled urgency.

You reach your hands up to remove your shirt, then discard your bra and skirt. Left in the nude as naked as the day you were cut from your moms stomach. C-section baby and all that. Only this time there was no blood. Yet, anyways.

When you were stark naked, Leon pushed you firmly onto his bed again- folding you by the backs of your thighs, legs pressed to your chest and gifting your stomach with that cute roll thing it did. Leon liked that on a woman.

He grabbed his cock, positioning it against your slick that dribbled from your yet-to-be-abused hole. He was gonna change that. You could feel his one of the piercings resting against your skin down below- a tsunami of anxiety settling over your delicate village of a body.

“Might hurt a little, babydoll. Can’t promise I’m gonna be gentle with her.” He referred to your pussy, your hole fluttering when he talked. You gave a look of understanding and acknowledgement.

“God, want it so bad.” You whined under him, the position he had your legs in made you even crazier about having him in you, like, yesterday.

He didn’t savor the moment so that he could push into you, he just did it. The feeling of each piercing bumping your hole on the way in. It felt fucking good, but also his dick stretching you out was intense and stung like a papercut.

His hands held your thighs down into your stomach- giving you a novice contortionist experience, and you could see the veins in his forearm pop a little. Your mind raced with the following anxieties; ‘What if a piercing cuts my insides and I die from sepsis or something? What if a piercing ball comes off and is lost inside me forever? Maybe I should stretch more.’ The first two were irrational but maybe not so much so, or else you wouldn’t be thinking of them. You’re not the first woman to think any of it.

“Fuck- there we go. Shit. You feel incredible, baby.” He dropped the doll in favor of calling you baby this time, making you squeeze around him as he bottoms out, balls against your ass. Yep. A bruised cervix was in your future. Going to have to come up with an excuse for why you won’t be able to get out of bed for the next few days. You thought other girls were just exaggerating this whole time about feeling yourself be split open, what the hell was he trying to do? Dig out your uterus with his dick? Does he really have to be so deep? It’s, like, really hot and feels really fucking good, but also, slightly uncomfortable. Maybe it’s the position.

Either way, he’s feeding your ego.

You let your head relax onto the bed instead of continuing to hold it up, ‘cause doing that was much more painful.

“God.” You muttered, relieved to be full and get the virginity loss out of the way. You should be getting a cake and celebration for this, if it wasn’t your uncle. But still. Taking big, pierced dick deemed trophy worthy. Or maybe a plaque.

Leon gazed down at you through straight locks, shaking them out of his face a little. He pulled himself out, minus the tip, before pushing back in with a groan- his Adam’s Apple bobbing hypnotically. Your spine arched, lifting your back off the mattress and your hands dug into your own thighs, helping hold them in place.

“You like that, huh?” He asked, the difference between it being pure hormones and condescension was blurred. Could have been both. He doesn’t give that much of a timeframe to start dragging his cock in and out of you, slowly picking up speed and bottoming out each time- balls slapping against your bottom.

You babble nonsensically, the ribbed sensation of his piercings almost sending you into hysterics. Something about yes, yes. I love it. Need you to fuck me so hard that my dad disowns me because I’m wheelchair bound and he knows why.

“Feels good, baby. I know it. Bet it’s hitting places you didn’t even know you had.” If he wasn’t so fucking hot, you’d probably have the ick from how cocky he is. Or not, you’re fucked up.

He leaned forward over you more to tangle into your hair, guiding your head to more of an angle and exposing your neck. You were so overwhelmed from how hard and deep he’s fucking you, not to mention his dick feels like how you imagine a beginner level bad dragon dildo to feel. Or maybe a less monster-y version anyways. It just feels fucking good and that’s all you needed to care about. Soft, airy cries crawl their way from your throat and leave you between that and moaning. Uncle, please. Please, please, please, harder.

“Let it all out, that’s it. Uncle Leon’s gonna take good care of this pussy.”

You nod as much as you can with his hold on your hair, and he pants into your collarbone, sweaty and nasty on top of you. You feel like you’re almost being crushed under his weight but it’s only hotter, and gets even more when you feel his free hand slip between your damp bodies to thumb your aching and still-sensitive clit. You tighten around his cock in reaction- gasping.

“Take it, babydoll. Fuck. Show me how much you want your uncle to make you cum. Belong on my cock, you know it?”

Your brain is off somewhere in a hot air balloon, far from its preferred skull. Which is yours. He speaks in ways you didn’t imagine you’d ever get to be spoken to or even enjoy. But it’ll be the only thing that gets you off from now on, no doubt about it.

“Uh huh, belong on your dick forever. Never wanna take it out.” Yeah. You’re stupid for him.

“Fuck. That’s my girl. Keep talking like that and I’m not ever letting you go.”

You nod your head.

“Want that, want that so bad. ‘D let you fuck me whenever you want, uncle.”

His lips curl into a half-pressed grin before he’s panting again- a bead of sweat dripping onto him. You remember he did something with the AC. Yeah-to the heat in the apartment is frying you good and well. Guess he wanted the sex to be extra clammy and gross. You know, besides the incest.

“Christ. Fuck, yes.” He groans deep, throaty and carnal.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you. You’d be the prettiest little girlfriend. Sitting around waiting to get fucked all the time. I know how needy my baby is.” Christ. You’re going to the deepest abyss in hell. You’re sure whatever torment awaits is worth it though, so it’s not a big deal right now.

“Wanna be yours.” You choke, throat dry. Ah, you remember you’re intoxicated. That must be why you’re so loose at saying this stuff.

“Open up.” He huffs, almost face to face with you but still enough that his breath is hot on your features. You’re hasty to open your mouth like a whore, Leon dribbling his gathered spit down onto your tongue.

“Gotta keep you hydrated, baby. Can’t have that throat getting raw, can we?” You nod, there’s so many nasty things happening you can’t process it properly- unaware of everything as you cum a second time on his hand, squeezing his dick like a much softer and less dangerous guillotine.

His thrusts were a little more sloppy and erratic- alcohol fully set in for the both of you. Normally, he’d be able to hold off his orgasm a little longer- but combatting it wasn’t an option in this drunken state.

“Christ- so fucking pretty and tight when you cum on my dick. Gonna cum too, baby. Don’t think I can pull out right now.”

You shake your head no.

“Don’t pull out, please. Please uncle, ‘ll do whatever you want.”

He laughs brokenly, choked up from the moans that need to come out first.

“God, yes. Okay. Gonna fill this sweet pussy up, baby.”

He focuses a few more thrusts, hard enough to make it hurt a little and sloppy enough to still be just the right amount of perfect.

“Here it comes, baby. Need you to take i- shit.” He buried deep inside you as he came hard, rasped voice and all while he held his place firm. His hair is stuck to his face in some areas, his natural scent emanating off of the sweat droplets.

His dick spasms inside you, filling you with every bit of semen he’s got pent up in him. You could almost feel the way your cunt was full of his cum, having no room around his dick to go anywhere, really.

He relaxed a little, letting out a long, pleasurable groan. You yourself joined him in letting your body go limp as it could in this position. He grabbed your legs to straighten them out and let them wrap around his waist, making you realize they were folded too long and that they ache a bit.

He kissed your collarbone, picking up his head and kissing your cheek next.

“Mm. Did so great for me, babydoll. Not gonna be able to let you go now.” He teased, another peck to your mouth that you managed to reciprocate just in time.

“Then don’t.” You tell him, mumbling.

“I can manage that. Could easily be my girl. Would have to be our little secret, though.” He adds at the end, threading his fingers in your hair.

Yeah, you’re not turning down that offer.

[polarisjisung]

LOVE ON THE COURT | 44 KISS ON THE COURT

SYNOPSIS | every college student has their struggles, but raising her younger brother has Y/N top of the list, struggling her way through college whilst balancing her academics and basketball captaincy is difficult no doubt and with Jaemin, her ex best friend and captain of the guys basketball team, and his growing one sided hatred towards her, it doesn't seem to be getting any easier

WARNINGS | swearing, sexual innuendos, kys/kms jokes

NOTES | and that's a wrap on LOTC ! thank you guys for reading ily all so much! I had a lot of fun writing this smau and I loved all your comments/reblogs/asks about it 🫶 I love LOTC and she's lwk my baby, being the 1st smau i wrote (and finished because im still distraught over cherry flavoured...) but I also think I've learnt a lot in the writing process and I'm pretty sure I can do better (or I hope so at least 😅) so stay tuned for a jeno smau otw !

more cute jaemy/n moments should follow in bonus chapters (if i write them...)! but this is the official end to lotc because I'm impatient and want it to be over 😭 thanks for reading ❤️

"You think we can win?"

Up until now, the room had been quiet, and a lingering sense of uncertainty that no one had spoken of was present.

But Heeseung had never been scared to speak his mind, not directing the question at anyone in specific.

Still all eyes undoubtedly fell to the two captains. Jaemin and Y/n, who sat beside each other, hands clasped together, fingers interlaced. It was only natural that at a time like this, the team would turn to the two of them, and they had no intention to disappoint.

As she looked up, Y/n lifted her head off Jaemin's shoulder, sucking in a breath before rising to her feet.

She refused to back down, standing tall despite the heat on her face, even though every part of her wanted nothing more than to be alone, curled away and to have kept to herself.

She had a team, and she owed it to them to stay strong. They had come so far, there was no way she would let this stop them from making it to the finals.

"I know we can win."

She reached behind herself, for the clipboard she had been messily scribbling notes on for the better half of the morning, until Jaemin had forced her away from strategising. "We have higher points than team B who we played last time, and we're tied for points with team C, so all we have to do is play our best," She smiles, looking at everyone in the room, and though no one mirrors her expression, the feeling of hope begins to rise from the dejected players, slowly, "There's no way we're losing our last game, and we're especially not going to let it be our first loss of the season."

Jaemin smiled, noticing the slightly concerned glint in her eyes, but not speaking much of it, only standing to his feet beside her with another even brighter smile. He wouldn't say it, but for a moment, the thought crossed his mind, maybe she was the better captain after all. That being said, he didn't care all that much about being better than her anymore, as long as he was with her, it would be enough.

"You haven't lost until you think you have," he speaks, remembering what he was intedning to do, "We're in a bad situation but we can always make the most of it. Let's play our best, and we'll walk out exactly how we planned." Jaemin nods, voice full of strength.

Still, the room feels cold, like the wind rushes past them, and happiness with it, low spirits and sighs of disbelief filling the room

Y/n let's her eyes meet Jaemin's beside her.

"We don't say it much" she starts off, "have to keep ourselves humble somehow don't we, but" she scans her eyes across the room, "you guys are some of the best players in the country, that has to count for something."

Jaemin chuckles, "I'd say it counts for a lot"

He hears the way Y/n gulps beside him, her eyes watering as she realises their words aren't being received as well as they'd hoped, his hand finding hers beside him. Though it's loose, his grip is comforting, motivating in the best of ways.

There's a moment of silence.

"Winning is a mindset." Y/n finally states, with perhaps the most rigidity she's ever presented in her voice, confident, and somewhat assertive, "You walk onto the court like you've already won and you will. That's what we’re going to do" she speaks with such certainty. It's almost hard not to believe, "We will win, it's just what we do."

"You're right" Isa stands up, triumphant "Losing is for losers."

"No shit" Chenle hums, sitting up from his previously slumped position, a couple others following as the quiet room begins to grow warmer, laughter echoing off the walls. Conversations follow, like usual pre game protocol, some tactics, some motivation. It doesn't take the room much longer to return to normal. Whatever normal was.

Things would be okay, whether they won or whether they didn't. But losing wasn't exactly one of their options tonight.

Y/n turns to Jaemin again, smiling with more conviction than earlier.

"You know, we make a good team" she looks down for a moment, "even after all that mess"

Jaemin let's his hand rests over her cheek, not specifically worried about who was watching, "Especially after all that mess"

Y/N and Jaemin stood at the centre of the court, the sound of the final buzzer still echoing in their ears. It was over.

The team had fought hard, each possession, each pass, each moment fraught with tension and determination.

The last few minutes of the game had felt like an eternity, with their opponents pressing them to the limit, but it was all over now. Just above, the scoreboard flashing the final score confirmed what they’d worked so tirelessly for—victory.

Jaemin, his chest heaving with each breath, looked over at Y/N. Clear in his eyes, triumph, and an unmasked sense of adoration. Everything he had once been so bitter for, so hurt over, it seemed like a small hurdle to pass, to finally be here today, watching Y/n smile his way with pride. The warmth in her smile, the passion, it was all he wanted to see, now, and for the days to come. This wasn't just winning a game. It was more than just state championships. It was knowing this was exactly where he wanted to be, going through the ups and the downs in life with her. The past seemed so small, so distant now, like all the struggles had never really been. But Jaemin wouldn't forget it, the pain, the heartache, and perhaps he preferred it that way, knowing just how much it took to get to being here, how much it meant. Because to Jaemin, Y/n was worth every struggle in the world.

The sweat on his forehead mixed with the tears that were starting to blur his vision. His eyes, usually full of confidence, were now wide with a slight disbelief and brimmed with joy.

Y/N, equally breathless, met Jaemin’s gaze. Their eyes locked, and for a moment, everything else faded into the background. The court was alive with celebration, the crowd shouting in exhilaration, but in that instant, it was just the two of them. Alone, like nothing else mattered.

Y/N's heart raced, not just from the adrenaline of the game, but from the raw emotion they had fought through together—every late-night practice, every setback, every moment where doubt had tried to creep in.

As they approached each other, Jaemin couldn’t help but pull Y/N into his arms, his hands pressing against her back as he held her close. “We did it,” he whispered, the words soft but full of meaning. Y/N laughed, the sound light but genuine. “You didn’t doubt us for a second, did you?” Y/N teased, lifting her face to look up at him, her hand gently brushing his cheek.

Jaemin smiled, brushing his lips against Y/N’s forehead, a kiss that was tender, full of everything they had been through and more. “Not when you’re by my side.” The words came out low and steady, carrying a depth that couldn't quite be fully explained. It didn't need to be.

Truly, they were in their own world, up until Jaemin heard his name being called from somewhere behind him, reluctantly pulling his eyes away from her.

"Jaemin, don't be a wuss give her a real kiss."

It was jeno shouting from the courtside bench, laughing at the way both of their cheeks flushed bright at his words along with Renjun.

That didn't sound so bad, Jaemin thought.

For a moment, he let his gaze meet Y/n's once again, "That alright with you peach?"

"More than alright."

When Jaemin pressed his lips to hers, soft, tender, and promising, Y/n couldn't help but smile. She hadn't expected to be doing this here, for everyone to see, her lips locked against his,but she didn't mind all that much, not when she was right where she wanted to be.

The arena around them was electric—teammates running to congratulate them, the crowd still roaring with excitement—but in the middle of it all, they found their moment of peace, a quiet connection amid the chaos. They had fought for this victory together, and it was theirs. Their love, their effort, had carried them here—through every tough game, every tough moment, and now, they had this championship to prove it, more importantly they had each other.

“Let’s go celebrate,” Y/N said, her voice soft but dripping with excitement, grabbing Jaemin's wrist.

He shot her a teasing smile, in true Jaemin fashion. “After we have a few more moments to ourselves?”

Y/N felt her heart swell, her cheeks darkening.

"I love you, you know" she chuckles, "I think i could tell you i love you as many times as there are stars in the sky, and it still wouldn't be enough."

"I love you too peach, more than all the stars in the universe combined."

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[hexesandroses]

A semi-long rant about Dottore's implied self-hatred, loneliness and inner struggles

I am, like many others, endlessly fascinated by Dottore, which means that I've been sucking the game dry for any Dottore content I can find; I've watched the dialogue between him and Nahida numerous times, read the "Zandik's Legacy" notes over and over and even the description of the "Wise Doctor's Pinion" from the Pale Flame artifact set. So much has already been said about him, but I'd like to offer my own two cents about an aspect of his character that is often ignored in favor of his villainy: Dottore's inner struggles.

I'll recount everything that I've gathered and tell you of my interpretation of Dottore's character.

To start, one thing that I never see people mention is a line from Nahida's retelling of the Tatarasuna incident. In the very beginning of the cutscene, we see a monster covered in light blue fur (obviously Dottore) who Nahida describes in a very interesting way. She says:

"Once in a while, the monster would take off its fox fur at night, and lament to itself as it gazed at its reflection in the water: "I am a monstrosity, yet they are too foolish to see it. I pity them."

Of course, it's easy to say that this is just a fairy tale Nahida created to preserve Scaramouche's memories and that this could've been made up - which is only half true! We must remember that Nahida has seen Dottore's consciousness. She already knew of the arguments between his Segments when Dottore confronted her to take the Electro and Dendro gnoses. Why do I bring this specific line up, though?

Because this line outright tells us that: 1) Dottore spent sleepless nights in Tatarasuna reflecting on himself; 2) That he, perhaps sincerely, pitied the people of Tatarasuna for not seeing past his facade.

I also think that the use of the word 'lament' is very interesting. To lament means to express sorrow and regret for something. I would think that this implies Dottore feeling remorseful for not just who he was, but what he would do to Tatarasuna. To provide further proof, I think it is important to look at the expression on the furry monster's face (as Nahida portrays it) when it laments to itself:

(What a cute little thing.)

It looks a bit... upset, doesn't it? Like it is mad at itself as it gazes into the water. This expression, combined with his thoughts and the use of the word 'lament' gives us a clear sign that many ignored: Dottore isn't as shallow of a villain as we thought.

Later in the cutscene, Nahida says:

"But the monster soon found solace when another came to live among the foxes who was not their kin: a kitten, carved from the wood of a white tree, who had been abandoned by the humans."

And in that moment, we see a wide-eyed little monster gazing at the kitten:

(Feels really silly to use this as an example but you've gotta trust the process)

Here, Dottore found someone like himself. An outcast, a creature that did not quite fit in with the ordinary humans - someone who could understand Dottore's loneliness and ostracization. After getting chased out of his hometown for his blasphemous ideas, after getting expelled from the Akademiya and possibly exiled to Aaru Village for his heretical views - Dottore had finally found someone to whom he could say: "See? They will never accept us. It is you and I against them, for they will never understand us."

What person wouldn't seek companionship, after all?

But things didn't turn out the way Dottore expected them to. Unlike Dottore, Scaramouche didn't need to hide his true identity in order to be accepted by the people of Tatarasuna. Thus, the following happened:

"Furious at this happy resolution, the monster lit a fire on the mountain. The terrified animals panicked as the fire spread..."

... and we know the rest. What matters is this: Dottore was angry and jealous of Scaramouche. Exiled from his hometown, rejected by his peers, insulted and looked down upon just for wanting to destroy the imbalance between Man and God - and along comes a puppet, a creation of the Raiden Shogun, who receives acceptance and guidance from the people of Tatarasuna. Not just that, but the only creature who could share Dottore's loneliness is whisked away from him, proving once again that Dottore will never know what it means to have a true companion.

Thus he tricked Scaramouche into believing that Niwa had betrayed them, had him join the Fatui and later used him as the blueprint for the creation of his Segments. Dottore basically ruined Scaramouche's life out of bitter jealousy.

That should be it about Tatarasuna for now. What I'd like to focus on next is the conversation between Dottore and Nahida in the 3.2 Archon Quest.

There are a few lines that interest me, so I'll go over them one by one.

Dottore uses a lot of big words to sound like he's saying something profound when in reality he's saying nothing at all (a nice callback to his Commedia Dell'arte counterpart), but there is one thing that both he and Nahida place great emphasis on: the fact that Dottore, smart as he is, cannot make peace with himself.

First to say it is Dottore. After asking Nahida for her opinion on his Segments, he says:

"Indeed. It's difficult for humans... to make peace with themselves, not to mention oneself from a different period."

The line still feels out of place. It sounds as if he is musing to himself.

Again, we get a line about his Segments, after Nahida asked him to erase them:

"You were observing me, and that's how you know I've long grown tired of their doubts and endless arguments."

I think it's safe to assume that the arguing is a metaphor for his struggle of self-acceptance. It seems every Segment has something to say to the others, but more on that later.

Nahida uses Dottore's own words against him:

"Like you said, it's difficult to make peace with yourself. Being as smart as you are, have you managed to do that?"

It's important to note that Dottore doesn't answer that question, but even without that, it's obvious to us, the players - of course Dottore hasn't managed to do that.

Whenever Nahida questions the relationship between his Segments, Dottore easily changes the subject. For example:

"Is the relationship between all the versions of you really that bad?"

"I don't think there's any need to dwell on that. The surplus versions of me can be exchanged for a Gnosis. Do you think anyone can offer themselves at a higher price?"

His Segments all argue constantly. When considered that they are replicas of Dottore at different stages of his life, this takes on an entirely new meaning - beyond his facade, Dottore is a man who can barely make out who he is.

Consider this also: in "A Winter Night's Lazzo", Columbina tells him, "You're looking very young today, Doctor."

To which Dottore replies, "You know very well that I do not take that as a compliment."

A piece of dialogue that had been brushed off by many, myself included - until I realized what this might imply. Dottore finds Columbina's comment insulting because he hates who he is. He hates the younger versions of himself because they represent a Dottore who didn't have the knowledge he has at this current stage of his life. They weren't as smart, as knowledgeable. But that's not really the full extent of it, of course.

Dottore was never fully accepted by anyone, this we have established. In the Akademiya, the students called him a 'madman', a 'monster' (as said in the Wise Doctor's Pinion). When we meet him in the 3.1 Archon Quest, he is referred to as 'The Outcast'. He is always being alienated, but could we assume that he just accepted this rejection and decided to embrace the titles people had thrown at him? This is just... very bold speculation, of course. It is impossible to deny that Dottore didn't always naturally stand out due to his heretical views, but I think it's worth considering that he could have just chosen to be the monster people thought of him as. After all, in the confrontation between him and Niwa, Dottore tells Niwa to think of him as a monster and a demon (for a reason that was... meant to be comforting? Not very important right now).

Consider also how different all the Segments sounded when they found out that they were being erased. All of the voices, along with their manner of speech, varied greatly; I interpreted this as proof of the many masks Dottore has worn over the course of his life. Dottore abandoned whatever humanity he had and decided to embrace the mask of a monster, constantly reinventing himself because he isn't secure in his identity - perhaps he doesn't have one at all. He is a scholar, a Harbinger, a researcher - but without those titles, what is left? What is he left with when he sheds those facades? The constant dodging of Nahida's questions about his Segments, the arguments and the worries of said Segments, the introspection in the cutscene about the Tatarasuna incident - indeed, Dottore is a man filled with self-hatred. A lonely outcast who has never known the comfort of kinship. A monster who swallowed his loneliness and dedicated his life to research.

That should be it, I suppose. My brain is fried and if I remember anything that I might have missed, I'll add that info later.

I want to mention one thing: this doesn't mean Dottore is a misunderstood good guy - doesn't take a genius to know that that is not true. Dottore has no regard for human life (which is ironic, considering how he believes humans have great potential and he wants them to be equal with the Gods). He has hurt so many and I'm sure he will continue to do so. He is evil, but it should be noted that he was once just an ordinary human, too. There must be an explanation for why he is the way he is. It's easy to paint him as just a monster because damn he's good at what he does; but I like to think that there is a layer to him that we just haven't fully seen yet. I'm excited to find out more about him when Snezhnaya gets released in like 2 years... ha. If you've read this far, thank you a lot! Curious to know what you guys think. I love Dottore

[hetacon]

Zora May 2025 prompts: Music, Festival

Would y’all believe me if I said this isn’t even my main Zora May piece? Ok, for those of you that have been with me for a bit, you probably do lol

It seems I’ve made a zora band! I had this idea because it's a part of my Sidlink animatic that I’ve mentioned a few times. There's going to be a scene in it of some sort of festival being held in the domain and I knew I wanted a group of zoras playing music for it, so I started doing some research and here we are!! The group consists of Marot on tambourine, Mei on harp, Tona on flute, Cleff on violin, and Laflat on conch! (Also if you guys remember my Sidlink drawing from Linktober this past year, that piece and this piece are from the same scene! Makes sense considering the prompt for that one was also music :D)

This really was supposed to be simple but simple is clearly not in my vocabulary! Originally I’d been saying that I didn’t need to go so hard on this but when I was talking about it in therapy a couple weeks ago and said that, my therapist legitimately told me, as soon as that had left my mouth: “Yes you did” 😂 She didn’t even hesitate for a second and she said it in the most dead-set tone I have ever heard, it low-key cracked me up! Though to be fair, her reasoning for that was genuinely really solid because she pointed out that this is a concept I've been working on for nearly a year and a half, so of course I was going to dedicate a lot of effort to making this, even though it's just a concept piece

Anyways, as usual I have a lot of thoughts so I'll put some more of my explanation under the cut as well as some more design concepts! I’ve actually figured out the designs for 3 of the instruments already so I recommend you take a look! (And there may be something related to the previously mentioned Sidlink piece in there as well 👀)

Something I find interesting is I had come up with the instruments I wanted back in February of 2024 and had actually figured out who I wanted to play each of them in November, meaning I'd decided on this months before I started designing my zora oc and thinking a lot about the Marot Mart dynamics, so it's kind of funny that all of them except for Laflat are part of the Coral Reef Crew or are Coral Reef Crew-adjacent (with Tona being Cleff's sister)! It was completely unintentional, but it coincidentally makes a lot of sense that they would form a group considering they spend a decent amount of time together!

I’ll get into it more when I eventually make a post with the finished designs for all the instruments but one of the main things I tried to think about was what sorts of instruments the zoras would make based on what specific resources are native to them and what materials they commonly work with! You guys know me, there was a lot of research put into this idea, and I’m so happy seeing it start to take shape beyond just a handful of words written on a page in my sketchbook!

I don't have all of the designs for the instruments finalized yet but I did manage to work out approximately what the tambourine, conch, and violin will look like. The latter two are pretty much done aside from maybe a couple tweaks on the violin, but I still need to figure out the pattern I want on the tambourine head cause it looks really empty compared to the rest of the design

But anyways yeah, here’s a version of the band without the background and the designs for some of the instruments, as well as some basic concept sketches for Link/Wild’s festival outfit as a bonus! :)

Also I just wanted to mention that I was originally going to tell y’all that I wasn't sure what I wanted to call the band and ask if you guys had any ideas or suggestions but as I was looking through a glossary of music terminology, "The Luminous Tones" (as a play on words of luminous stones since, you know, they're something the zoras use in a lot of their architecture) suddenly popped into my head and at first I thought that was kind of silly but then the idea got stuck in my head and no other name will feel right now, so I guess the Luminous Tones it is!

[wqlfstqr]

hi! if your requests are open, can I please request something with ethan nakamura x daughter of persephone reader? I don’t have a specific scenario in mind, so you can do what you want with it. please and thank you! 💘

◟𖥻 the great war : ethan nakamura

▰▰ pairing: ethan nakamura x fem!reader

My hand was the one you reached for All throughout the Great War

mari talks! i'm so excited, this is my first time writing for ethan and I really love this, hope you like it!

warnings: daughter of persephone reader, no use of y/n, canon divergent, mentions of war, possible mentions of injuries, hurt/comfort.

Ethan wakes up disoriented, he doesn’t remember anything past his fight with Kronos. And he's fully expecting to look around and find that he woke up in the underworld— because after what he did, that's surely where he would end up.

But instead, when he looks around, he finds her. She's sitting on a chair placed beside him, her head resting on the edge of his bed, looking extremely exhausted while holding onto his arm. It takes her a moment to realize he's awake, and she immediately sits straighter on the chair.

And gods, she's a sight for sore eyes.

Ethan is almost at a loss of words, this is the first time he has seen her upclose since— yes, that thought brings him back to the present and he knows, "You shouldn't be here."

In return, she just squeezes his arm. "There's nowhere else i'd rather be."

As patient as ever, how could he forget? she was the only one that always had some sort of faith in him, even back then when he was nothing but a guy feeling rejected at cabin eleven.

He still remembers those days, of course, he could never forget about her, about the way she managed to make him happy even at his worst moments.

He remembers.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

The hermes cabin was always too loud. Too many voices, too many people coming in an out, too many kids who just didn’t belong anywhere else. He was one of those. She was too. Two claimed demigods doomed to live in cabin twelve because there was no cabin or space for them anywhere else.

He was good at blending in, at sitting quietly in the corner, keeping to himself. She was the complete opposite. Couldn't stay quiet even if she tried, that one.

He could hear her soft humming as she sat beside him, and it would've irritated him— It should've. But irritation never came. Instead, he felt curious as he glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes.

Her fingers were carefully weaving flowers together, her brows slightly furrowed in concentration, her lips humming the beat of a song Ethan couldn't recognize even if he tried. A pile of colorful petals surrounded her sleeping bag, almost as if she had plucked an entire meadow just for this.

Ethan watched her finish the crown and then she placed it on her head, then immediately started on another one, her hands quick, like it was second nature for her.

He can't help himself, finally he asked. "Don't you have something better to do?" He muttered, not unkindly, just out of genuine confusion.

And she smiled, as if she had been waiting for him to say something. "Nope."

Ethan rolled his eyes, going back to polishing his blade. He thought that was the end of their conversation, until a few more minutes passed and—

"Hold still" She said, and before he could say anything, he saw her leaning closer to place the second crown on his head.

He scowled, lifting his hand, fingers brushing against the woven flowers. "I'm not wearing this"

"Yes, you are." She decided, not giving any room for arguments. "Even Nemesis children deserve flowers sometimes, you know?"

He blinked at her, finally at a loss for words. No one had ever said something like that to him before. No one had treated him like that before, like he was more than just his mother's legacy, more than a mistake shoved into a cabin that he didn’t even belong to, more than a boy with a chip on his shoulder.

He swallowed, looked away, but kept the flower crown on.

And from that moment on, Ethan Nakamura knew.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

"I got you some flowers" She tells him, nodding towards the vase of wildflowers sitting on the bedside table.

"You shouldn't be here." He repeats again, he can't stand the churning feeling of guilt in his chest.

Her small smile drops, and she turns more serious as she answers, as stubborn as ever. "Yes I should, Ethan, you almost died in war."

But two can play the stubborn game, "And that's my own fault, isn't it?"

it seems as if that's enough to get her to drop the act, and he can feel the guilt the moment he sees the tears in her eyes. "That's not- you-" she tries to explain herself to no avail.

And then, after taking a deep breath, she manages to surprise him once again. "Sure, you made some wrong decisions out there, but you almost died. And you would've died a hero. You helped Percy defeat Kronos."

Because of course, out of all people, she would be the one to see the good in him even after he broke her heart when he left to join Luke's army.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

They got used to sneaking around, to looking for places where they could be together without the bunch of people that slept in the same cabin as them. It wasn't like somebody was going to look for them anyways, Ethan even doubted people realized they were gone.

The moment she got claimed by Persephone and him by Nemesis, they were made to be outcasts, living in a cabin full of people that didn’t even made an effort to get to know them because they were not part of it.

But at least they had each other, and that had to be enough, right?

"Everyone's pretty shaken up by Luke leaving." she commented, her head resting on his chest while she weaved flowers together.

That was his clue. Ethan's clue to bring it up. He was so sure he could convince her of leaving with him. He had always been logical— he knew that the gods didn’t care about any of them, that Luke was making sense, and if anyone else could understand, it would be her.

So he gathered enough courage to ask, "Don't you think he did the right think? wouldn't you leave if you had the chance?" And he knew, his question came with a lot more than he let on, because it wasn't just about leaving. It was about joining Luke.

And she knew, without him even explaining completely, she knew exactly what he was asking. "It's tempting." she exhaled slowly, as if choosing her words carefully. "The gods aren’t fair. They ignore their kids. They let things get bad before they ever step in. But fighting a war against them? Hurting people like us in the process? That’s not the answer."

Ethan was confused, that wasn't what he was expecting. "So what, we just sit here and take it?"

"No. But we don’t turn into the thing we hate, either." She replied, simply, as if it was that easy. "In order to change, you don't run away from things, you grow in the place you planted."

And that completely stunned Ethan into silence because he thought her, out of all people, would understand. He thought she wouldn't want to change his mind. And yet, there she was, saying exactly what he had been dreading to hear.

That was the moment he realized, she wouldn't leave with him. And as much as he thought he could love her if given the chance, he couldn't stay with her. Not when Luke was giving him the opportunity to leave the place that had only made him feel like an outcast in his own world.

So he held her for one last time and didn’t share his plans with her. He couldn't.

The next morning, Ethan Nakamura was gone, and she was probably the only person to notice right away, or at all.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

And now, as he looks at her sitting beside him after everything, he wishes he had listened to her. Not because of the injuries he got from not listening, but because of the guilt. Because of the love he still has for her.

He looks away from her, not able to cope with the overwhelming feeling of guilt whithin him. And not only that. But he can also feel a small bloom of hope. Which he hates. He shouldn't be feeling hopeful at all, not after what he did.

But how can he refuse? when she's the one offering that hope.

Ethan swallows. "I don't deserve—" your forgiveness.

He doesn’t finish the sentence, but as always, she knows what he's thinking. "You don't have to do this." she shakes her head, her voice softening. "You don't have to push me away, not anymore."

"I left you." He replies, as if that reminder should be enough for her to hate him.

"And you came back." she counters, gentle but unwavering. "You helped Percy. Because of you, we're okay. You made things right in the end."

When she reaches for his hand, he doesn’t have enough will to push her away, instead he only looks down at the way her soft fingers thread through his. "You're here, Ethan. We're here. And we can finally just... live."

Live.

Just. Live.

The concept feels foreign to him. He has never been able to just live. He's not even sure he has ever supposed to have that. But she says it with so much certainty, like she's already decided they'll have it together.

He can't say much after that, can he? he doesn't have any way of refuting that, not when he wants it too. So he simply nods his head. He doesn’t argue. She doesn’t either. They both stay there, in silence, until she just moves, slow and careful, climbing into the narrow bed to settle beside him.

And it's instinct, the way his arms wrap around her body, the way she fits against him. Like she belongs there. Like she's always belonged there, even before he realized it.

For the first time in what feels like forever, Ethan Nakamura isn't haunted by nightmares once he closes his eyes, allowing the weight of his past to slip away just for tonight. Because he has her.

And if she believes they can just live now, then he will believe it too.

[cheesycatz]

THE ENTIRETY OF THE WORMTON FIC IS DRAFTED! THIS IS NOT A DRILL! Sooooo, what does that mean? I'm currently revising every chapter, leaving notes for things I want to change, move, or add, and deleting what I'm no longer happy with. I'm hoping to finish by the end of the month. After that, I have to, y'know, actually write the thing. I plan to release chapter 1 and the prologue together. I have no idea how long each chapter will take, but considering the length of each chapter and how long these updates take me, a month between chapters is likely realistic. We'll just have to wait and see.

In fact, June 5th could be a reasonable release date for the first chapter! I’m sure you don’t have any other plans that day… /j I guess

As far as actual content goes, I was having fun with the last two chapters. Most of the fic is from Spamton’s and Blue’s perspectives, but I thought it would be sweet to have one chapter from each of the addisons for the finale, each telling him that they love him in different ways, and for Spamton to take the last chapter and finally say “I love you” back. The word “love” and the weight associated with it is brought up many times throughout the story, and I’d thought it would be a good way to end it. Spamton’s life and mental health isn’t perfect by the last chapter, but the realization that he is unconditionally loved promises a bright future for him. YIPPEE found-family!!! There’s still some angst, but it’s mostly fluff now.

Because of Spamton's love of nature in this fic, I thought it would be nice if he learned to care for his own plant. As one does, I looked up flower language to find a suitable plant for him, focusing specifically on resilience, as I'd argue that's Spamton's most defining strength (this guy has been homeless for 20 years, somehow horrifically transformed into a puppet, lost everything he had, everyone hates or doesn't remember him, and was promised by the universe that he would never amount to anything but a broken toy to be discarded, and still gets out of bed everyday to pursue his goal. This man is DETERMINED). Anyways, I saw dandelions on the list as a sign of resilience, renewal, and new life, and it's the perfect flower for him. A flower that can spread at such a fast rate it's seen as a useless weed more than anything else. Yet, year after year, they persist. A field completely filled with dandelions is still a flower field, and just as beautiful if you'd give it the chance. Why the hell would someone be selling dandelions in a flower shop? Uh…they don't grow naturally in Cyber World, so maybe they'd be sold there, and the store owner didn't want to throw them away after moving to Castle Town or something… JUST LET ME HAVE THIS

Revisions are fun! Most of the changes involve Spamton's character, as I've gotten a better grasp on him over the years. Despite his drastically different biology and backstory, Wormton is meant to be as close to homeless-era Spamton as possible personality wise, and I hope I can do him justice. Overall, I've revised him to be a lot more mysterious and antagonistic. He hates addisons, and only stuck with Blue because they were easy to use. He's never been treated like a person before, and it takes him a while to come to terms with the fact that the addisons like him and he likes them back. He tries to express it too late, and it's no wonder they ran the moment they discovered the Worm In The Apple™.

One thing I’ve pondered for a while is whether Spamton will remain the only BIGSHOT malworm in existence. I’ve left it ambiguous in the fic, but I’d love for him to raise some hatchlings. His life with the addisons is infinitely better than his old life, but they’re not malworms. They can’t speak his native language, can’t hunt and eat prey together, can’t accommodate for a malworm’s near constant need for the presence of others. I think it would be the happiest ending, but that could be an entire fic on its own, especially since Queen was barely convinced to let even one malworm stay alive. I'd like to at least get something out before the heat death of the universe, so you'll just have to picture Wormton with a dozen identical clones of himself crawling after him.

I WANNA RELEASE SOMETHING SO BAAAAAAD

You know who’s excited for the fic to release? Me! I wanna read comments! I want to inspire people! I want you to cry over a bunch of advertisements and a piece of 90’s spyware! I want the thing I’ve spent 2.5 years on to finally see the light of day! I want the Spamton-shaped worms eating my brain to shut up!

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

Nov 16th

~*~

1. Hi there! I'm looking for this fic that I thought I'd bookmarked, but I tragically had not. The premise is Wei Wuxian is asked to watch a class of baby Lan junior disciples when the teacher is pulled away, much to Lan Qiren's dismay. He's left watching them for much longer than Lan Qiren intended and ends up really helping the students, particularly one little kid who hadn't been able to develop his core very well yet. They go outside to test throwing snowballs with wind talismans and the kids all leave with more confidence in themselves. Lan Qiren is able to be convinced to let Wei Wuxian keep helping out with the baby juniors. @lucky-cat-13

FOUND? 🔒 Something Yet to Learn by Glitterbombshell (T, 16k, WangXian, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, [Podfic] Joy In the Midst of These Things Series by GoLBPodfics (GodOfLaundryBaskets))

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2. Hey, I am searching for two fanfics.

(A) One in which I think wangxian are broken up or could be that LWJ died cause all I remember is that WWX obsessively draws LWJ's ears cause he couldn't remember how they looked and that it ended on a happy note also I think it was a modern verse but not quite sure .

(B) And in the second one all I know is that wangxian are strangers who bury a body together and that one of them probably LWJ was the one who helped WWX do so and that they were in a forest and it was night time and was a oneshot I think under 20k words.

Thankyou!

2A)

FOUND! you'll always know me (ana_cp) by anaphoricae (E, 127k, wangxian, modern, Actor WWX, Teacher LWJ, Getting Back Together, Exes to Lovers, is it exes to lovers if you never quite defined your relationship?, Angst with a Happy Ending, LWJ being cute with children alert, WWX rides a motorcycle, LWJ writes as a hobby, Back hugs as a love language, Sharing Food as a Love Language) Another one where WWX isn't exactly an idol (he's a famous actor) and LWJ knows him from before he was famous, so maybe not exactly what they're looking for, but a great story nonetheless.

2B)

FOUND!🔒The inherent romanticism of hiding a body together by Aki_no_hikari (T, 4k, WangXian, First Meetings, Love at First Sight, Modern, Corpse Desecration, Corpse Disposal, Pigs, dark Wangxian)

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3. Hi! Thank you for the work you do. Could you please help me find this fic? It's set during the 14 years wwx is dead, focusing on lwj and his sect-- it has some great OCs with lwjs younger cousins who adore him, and specifically question the rules because of his punishment. Lwj also gets migranes? I think it's in progress, but not sure. Thank you!

FOUND? Run Off The World by Sapphire_Roses (M, 316k, wangxian, XuanLi, SongXiao, WIP, Not Everyone Dies AU, Canon Divergence, Wen Remnants Live, Flashbacks, YLLZ WWX, WWX Creates a Sect | Yiling Wei Sect, Sect Leader WWX, Married WangXian, OCs, POV Outsider, Morally Grey Characters, (Do Take That Tag Seriously), Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Developing Friendships, Fluff, Attempt at Humor, Yunmeng Siblings Feels, Gusu Siblings Feels, Sibling Bonding, Pining, Character Study, Tenderness, Mild Smut, POV Alternating, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Minor Character Death) remind me of Run Off The World by Sapphire_Roses, specifically chapter 38 but in this, Wei Wuxian is alive

~*~

4. Looking for fanfic where Lan Zhan is grieving and the rest of the Lan Clan regret whipping him and are trying to help him survive. I read it a few weeks ago go but forgot to bookmark it.

LAN xichen also bring in Yuan to visit lan zhan as he is healing to motivate him to heal quicker.

But any recommendations about angsty lan zhan * Wei ying in general is appreciated. @wildcat12

All that is solid melts into air by huxiyi (T, 18k, WangXian, Angst with a Happy Ending, Growing Old Together, Breaking Up & Making Up, Post-Canon, Character Study, Getting Back Together)

🔒 Traditions of Grief by ReleasedFromHisCage (Not Rated, 574, WangXian, Angst, Grief/Mourning, Hurt No Comfort, Canon Compliant)

to remember names of plants series by detention_notes (T, 8k, Diary/Journal, Character Study, WWX’s canonical humor as deflection, WQ is a lesbian, Friendship, Parenthood, Pining, thinly-veiled anger and fear, small moments of hope, planning for uncertain futures, is this angst?, gentle angst, Reminiscing, Found Family, Parenthood, Reminiscing, Pining, Grief/Mourning, Epistolary, Healing, Childhood, Love, LWJ’s single parenthood, how to love a memory, how to raise the next generation, Canonical Character Death, Yearning, LWJ’s concentrated stream-of-consciousness emotions, Bittersweet, Hopeful Ending)

~*~

5. Hello, I have a request.

Wei Ying survived the first siege of burial mounds but his soul was shattered and he was the kind of child who needs to be watched and lan wangji takes him to the cloud recesses to care for him and at some point wei ying keeps trying to hurt himself or die and as for lan wangji he keeps on taking care for him for 13 years until wei ying successfully killed himself and got summon in mo xuanyu body. @lanwuxian0725

~*~

6. I am back again, please, you are wonderful, i need help finding another fic. (One day i will start logging the titles of fics I love.) I know the plot, but all my keyword/tag searches have been unsuccessful. So, For a Fic Finder: It's a modern (no magic) fic set just as we went into full pandemic lock down. (It may have been set in Canada - but I'm not positive on that detail.) Wei Ying is an artist--a painter, and he lives with Lan Zhan, who (i think) teaches music. They are friends but not yet a couple at the fic's start. A big plot point is Wei Ying has a setious unspecified auto-immune disease (i recall one symptom was painfully swollen joints) that is debilitating when it flares up. It also means he has to stay strictly home due to his immune system being compromised. Let's see...Lan Zhan has bunnies and as he gets really depressed during lock down, he uses his hefty trust fund to shop online for increasingly ridiculous/expensive stuff (think stuff like jeweled bunny water bowls from Tiffany and Cartier). Eventually, Wei Ying and Lan Zhan confess & get together. The only thing after that, that is sad, is how much they both miss LZ's son, A-Yuan. A-Yuan & Jingyi are at university and initially stay with Jiang Yanli when campus shuts down. Wei Ying thinks that they won't be able to come home for break as planned, because they don't want to risk Wri Ying getting covid. But the ending of the fic is both boys secretly super quarantine themselves and then borrow a car and drive the long road home. A-Yuan was adopted by Lan Zhan and at the very end he calls Wei Ying "Dad," which is a huge deal to Wei Ying.

If someone can find this. I will be so grateful! @emrinalex

FOUND! A Bad of Nibs (Nibs are Bad) by Enk (M, 17k, WangXian, Quarantine, Slice of Life, Friends to Lovers, Chronic Illness, Chronic Pain, Fluff and Angst, Mild Sexual Content, Found Family, Vague Canadian Location, JYL Lives)

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7. Fic finder please! I mostly remember WWX as the final girl trope and it was listed in the tags. It was kind of a horror and mystery story where his mother was killed by serial killer? And JGY was helping them? There were shoes involved. And nhs and WWX get caught and have to fight xy and escape. then LWJ has some kind of ghost gift and comes to find them. It was so good and I can’t remember the title to find it to read again! 😭😭😭

FOUND! Post Mortem by Cataclysmic_Calamity (E, 178k, WangXian, Psychological Horror, Modern, friends with benefits, they’re both fucked up but they love each other so much, Slow Burn Mystery, Unnegotiated Kink, Dom/sub, Anal Sex, Consensual Non-Consent, Stalking, Drug Addiction, Serial Killers, in WWX’s desire to critique the ‘final girl’ trope he accidentally becomes one, Angst with a Happy Ending, meta commentary on the horror and true crime genres)

~*~

8. Hi I was wondering if you all could help me find a fic? It was a modern au where WWX was a spy and had to break up with LWJ but he ends up getting injured and breaks into LWJ’s place to bleed out on his couch after not seeing him for years. I know LWJ was a surgeon or at least a doctor in the fic and that Lan Yuan shows up as a kid LWJ meets at the hospital. Wen Qing and Lan Xichen are also in it from what I recall. Thank you for all that you guys do! @peerlessplantma

FOUND? 8 sounds like a deleted fic by scarletmoontears called empty space beside me? Currently unfinished at about 26K words

I could've sworn i was subscribed to updates but it's not in my subscriptions, I think this is a WIP?

~*~

9. Hi! I have yet another fic that I can't remember the name of. It was on AO3

What I remember: Wangxian were immortals who are living in the modern age (Modern AU). Wei Ying lives as a famous actor, Jiang Ying, where his fans regularly know that he is a troll --- Wei Ying tends to tweet. There was this whole thing where a fan brought up how Wei Ying looks like this old legend story Wei WuXian and Wei Ying actually responds to the comment online and confirms it to be true. No one takes it seriously bc well they know Wei Ying is a prankster. (This ofc, is the time that Wei Ying is NOT lying)

TLDR: wangxian immortals, modern AU, on AO3, Wei Ying is a famous actor under name Jiang Ying

THANKS! Much love! @chenqingmagic

NOT FOUND! ridiculous future bullshit Series by sami (T, 93k, WangXian, XiChengQing, Future Fic, in theory it follows on from an au, specifically The Same Moon Shines Series, in actuality I’m not committing to this that hard, Humour, immortals through history, Modern AU, Sort Of, University, outsider pov, Pride, Chaos Gremlin WWX)

~*~

10. hey!

first up, thank you so much for doing— personally, it bugs so much when i can't find the fics i love! there's a modern-setting fic, where wwx is a cultivation shop owner hiding from the jins, on the low— and a birthday night gets stuck in a time loop, and same happens to lwj. could you plsss help me find this??? i've been trying since a couple of days now, but.. 😅

FOUND? see you yesterday by glyphic (M, 138k, WIP, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Ghost Hunters, Time Loop, Case Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Memory Loss, Angst with a Happy Ending, Slow Burn)

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11. Hello! Love this blog for all the fics its given me <3! I'm looking for a fic where Wei Wuxian is left behind during the fall of Lotus Pier,, Jiang Cheng still escapes with his mom, but that's all I can remember. Any help I can get will be appreciated!!

11 seems familiar to me although I can't remember whether madam yu also escaped with jc or not. It was probably a wwx birthday project WIP which I'm sure was in my bookmarks. But I can't find it now, I can see a mystery work when searching with specific tags which could be it but again I'm not sure

FOUND? Every time you fall by Nillegible (T, 9k, JFM/YZY, WangXian, JC & WWX, WIP, Fix-It, Canon Divergence, Fall of Lotus PIer)

FOUND? Exchange by Kushiro (M, 6k, WangXian, JC & WWX & JYL, Hurt No Comfort, Major Character Injury, Blood and Injury, Self-Sacrifice, Canon Divergence, POV WWX, WWX is a Mess, Fall of Lotus Pier)

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12. Hi!! I'm looking for a college au fic where lan wangji is selectively mute and comunicates though sign language and meets wwx ( jc and jyl) who know sign language because madame yu is deaf. Wangxian meet at a coffee shop whe wwx works! Thank for all the great work you do! @kavlobebeki

FOUND? hi!! number 12 for the fic finder is this selective mute lwj threadfic by zizzani!

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13. Hi! There was this fic that I was reading a while ago but lost… do you think you could find it? I believe it was a teen wangxian fic, cloud recesses arc. Wwx is teasing Lwj in the library pavilion like usual, but pretty much freezes because it’s storming outside. It was then revealed that wwx’s fear of storms came from his fear of lightning, which of course stems from his trauma related to madam Yu.

FOUND? Thunderstorm in the Library Pavilion by ZamaShines (M, 22k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Hurt/Comfort, Bad Parent YZY, Abusive YZY, Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Whipping, Astraphobia, phobia - thunder, Thunderstorms, Panic Attacks, WWX Has Self-Esteem Issues, WWX Needs a Hug, and gets the hug, Good Sibling JC, Good Uncle LQR, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fix-It of Sorts)

~*~

14. Hello! There was a fic a while back. Wei Ying and the wen Remnants were in Gusu. But while Lan Zhan was away the elders put Wei Ying on trial, silenced him and whipped him? His siblings show up right at the end and he's barely hanging on. I don't think it was ever finished, but it was good and I have a craving to read it again.Thank you! @loremipsumflotsamandjetsam

i think i have seen it, possibly a thread fic on twt? Maybe with WY being a prisoner in the Lan sect and A-Yuan stays with him, LZ does not know him and hates him but then gets to know and understand him better? And then he leaves CR for some time and JGY of SS possibly do something to make WY seem guilth and whipped so when LZ returns he is livid and proclaims marriage? But sadly i don't remember who's fic that was :( Though i don't remember WY's sibs being there, so maybe that's another one. Also in the one i read WY wakes up after the whipping and finds out LQR and LZ cared for A-Yuan during blackout… It was an interesting one anyway

~*~

15. Hi, for the next ficfinder: there was this fic that said in what I think were the author notes that wwx thought he was lazy but turns out he's just depressed and I can't find it ☹️

FOUND? Polishing Jade by Starra (M, 252k, WangXian, Arranged Marriage, Modern AU, Awkward Dates, Slice of Life, Most likely OOCness, Falling In Love, Everyone Needs A Hug, Loneliness, Feelings Realization, Drinking to Cope, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Suicide, slow-ish build, Might not be slow enough for some people my bad, The real Slow Build is how long it takes for them to actually get married, Eventual Cohabitation)

~*~

16. Hello 🐇💙 Looking for one of the many canon divergence fics where the Wens and WWX end up at Lotus Pier instead of, you know, dead. The one specific identifying detail I can provide is WWX being in chronic pain from the core removal and WQ trying to figure out a way to help him. At least one instance of WWX trying to hide/downplay the pain and basically collapsing before he accepts the help. @linderel

Alas, this is a good fic but not the one I'm looking for! Pretty sure the one I want has WQ sticking WWX with acupuncture needles for pain management, and WWX actually experiences flare-ups of acute pain (and no it's not RoseThorne's fic either, they are definitely at LP not BM)

NOT FOUND 🔒 if you’re leaving baby let me down slowly by ravenditefairylights (M, 36k, WangXian, XuanLi, Past MingXian, Canon Divergence, Golden Core Reveal, Implied/Referenced Sex, Miscommunication, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Twin Prides of Yúnmèng Dynamics, Hurt WWX, Mutual Pining, Unreliable Narrator, Self-Esteem Issues, Twin Prides of Yúnmèng Feels, Protective Siblings, Trauma, Slightly dubious consent, courtesy of drunk sex, Inventor WWX, Genius WWX, Phoenix Mountain, Chronic Pain, Getting Together, Fix-It of Sorts, One Braincell Trio, PTSD) WQ gets really upset before WWX will accept her help, but I think the only time WWX collapses in the fic is because of a panic attack, so it doesn't match exactly

~*~

17. Hi! I’m looking for a fic where Wei wuxian comes back as mo xuanyu and goes to pier. He pretends to be a woman and goes to gusu with Jiang Cheng, Lan wangji meets Wei wuxian pretending to be a woman and starts to fall in love. Lan xichen notices and talks to him because everyone thinks Wei wuxian and jiang cheng are dating and he doesn’t want his brother’s heart to break again. There was also a big meeting between sects where someone asks how many kids Wei wuxian and jiang cheng want to have, Wei wuxian answers but Jiang cheng says he wants none and everyone’s shocked before Jiang cheng reveals that Wei wuxian is his heir and not his lover.when everyone goes to yiling city Wei wuxian is forced to use some demonic cultivation but isn’t caught and all the juniors love him for being his cool and mischievous self. I’d be so grateful for any help in finding this fic! @sentient-halloween-candy

FOUND! By Any Other Name by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 31k, Wangxian, Canon Divergence, Crossdressing, Misunderstandings, Identity Porn, Identity reveal)

~*~

18. Re-submitting this in the hopes that someone might know this since it wasn't found last time 😞

About the fic:

It's been a long time since I read this one, so it's an older fic (at least more than 3-4 years ago). It was centred around MDZS as a story with Jiang Wanyin as the MC and YLZ as the villain. Our main characters had a whole fandom around it, where LWJ is a famous author and WWX a not-very-popular artist who drew fanart of the most hated character in the book "Yiling Laozu" (I think he was an artist, could also be a fellow writer).

I remember there was lot of fandom discourse about WWX and his choice of character to support and how YLZ was always jealous of JWY and did actually maliciously cause everything he was accused of in this alternate MDZS canon. Then, suddenly, LWJ + WWX end up pairing up for a fandom event (a big bang or smth similar), and WWX has the idea of a story where canon divergence occurs and YLZ is a good person instead (like actual canon) and LWJ agrees to write for it.

This was as far as I had read for it. From I remember it was a WIP. Thanks <3 @indelibleme

~*~

19. hi I wanted to ask for this fic

i most prob found this fic under jealous lan wangji fics on ao3 but I can't seem to find it any longer

basically wwx was goading lwj tht he might mess w someone else and lwj said there's gonna be no one else for the rest of ur life

and also lwj got kinda horny mad and fucked wwx in an alley and i think all of this took place in an alley

if u find it or not ,still tysm

~*~

20. Hi! Im looking for a fic, and i Think its a one-shot. Its starts (I think) that they are at a banquet, and Wei Ying is looking at a forhead ribbion, he has in is wrist, and then he hear, I tink it Lan Xichen, asking him where he got it from, and he tells them its from a childhood friend. And when they tell them is Lan Zhans ribbon, he goes in denail. They havent met in the cloud resses study arce at that time. Hope you acn find it! And sorry english is not my first language! @misswinchester1967

~*~

[idyllwave]

Infinity

Yandere ! Gojo Satoru x Female ! Reader

Part 27 | Your Happy Ending Too

Summary | And I'd choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I'd find you and I'd choose you.

Infinity Masterlist

It happened again. Yet another slew of dreams of past lives would enter her thoughts and fester there. She would see Satoru’s face, his smile, his eyes… and she would see her own death. Like a movie playing in slow-mo. And lately, these deaths have become clearer in her mind.

Some deaths were caused by people she couldn’t even remember the names of, but most of the time… almost every single time… her death would come at the hands of Satoru. Sukuna sometimes follows the same pattern.

She ached to talk to Satoru about this, but she always got this weird feeling in her gut anytime she wanted to mention it. Like something or someone was going to snap at her. Should she ask-?

“Your face is all scrunchy again,” Gojo chuckled as he squished her cheeks. Tonight was movie night at his place. her back was to his chest as she sat in his lap on his couch. A warm blanket covering them both as a movie played in the background.

“Sorry… just thinking.”

“About what?”

That was another thing she noticed. Much like the other lives, this Gojo was just as pushy and inquisitive. It was as if he needed to know everything about her at all times. Or, at least, that was the feeling that he gave off.

“It’s about my, well, our past lives…”

She felt his hands fall from her face and fall to her waist. She could already feel how his arms slowly started to tighten like a vice to keep her where she sat in his lap.

“What about them?”

She looked at him from the corner of her eye, she could feel how her heart hammered in her chest, but she steadied herself as much as possible.

“My deaths.”

“Your deaths?”

She nodded, “more specifically… how you were the one who would kill me most of the time.”

She waited for him to say something, anything really, but what surprised her the most was when he started to laugh. His chest rumbled against her back before he leant forward. His chin resting on her shoulder as his eyes would peek up at her.

“So you remembered after all.”

“And you remembered all this time.”

He hummed in response as he nuzzled his face into her neck, “you know, I don’t know why it was only ever me who remembered our lives together. I always thought it was a curse because it meant that I was the only one looking for you in each life.”

He kissed her cheek before easily lifting her and maneuvering her so that she was facing him in his lap, her legs straddling his waist.

“And imagine my surprise when you finally started to remember. I was ecstatic at first. Until I realized the potential of you remembering your deaths…”

“Why did you do it…”

“Do what?”

“Kill me like that… kill me so often?”

“Cause it was never the right life. It wasn’t our happy ending.”

She frowned at his words as she placed her hands against his chest to push herself away a little. She needed space. Space away from him.

“Our happy ending?”

“We were always meant to be. You and me. But things kept getting in the way. Not like it mattered though. I was determined to get my happy ending with you. No matter how many lives we lived, I would always find you.”

“And how about now?”

“What about it?”

He gripped her wrists and pulled her close, her lips barely brushing against his.

“Now that I remember, you won’t get that happy ending.”

“And what makes you so sure about that?”

“Because I know and remember all that you did.”

He hummed again before smiling that same grin that she always seemed to love. A part of herself couldn’t believe what was happening. The sister school exchange event was right around the corner, Itadori was almost finished with his training, and she … she just had to open her mouth about the memories that have been filtering into her dreams.

She almost wanted to kiss him and make this night end.

“That… is not going to stop me from having a happy ending with you. Starting over would be a waste, especially since we’re in a perfect part of our lives right now, and the fact that I have you right where I want you. And honestly, if you truly hated me, you would be trying to get away right about now, wouldn’t you?”

He let his hand trail to the back of her neck, “and even if somehow, someway either of us die in this new life… I’ll just look for you in the next. My happy ending begins with you, and these lives will continue until you see that I’m your happy ending too.”

[savemeafruitjuice]

Ducktales Tickle Headcanons!!

Oh my days, these little guys have been eating away at my thoughts for the last month, so I'm finally forcing myself to write!! 💞💞✍️✍️✍️

TW!: SOME SWEARING! Also, this does have spoilers for season 2!!!

Tags for moots!: @sunsetsandsunshine, @hypermoonlover, @rice-cake-teen10

Plus some other people that may enjoy!: @randommusicalfluff, @anxious-lee

Strap in, because I have a LOT to say about the triplets!!! (No seriously, I wrote a shit ton.. I need to be monitored or smth) Okay, here we go!

(Rahhh he's so stimmy I LOVE HIM!!!)

❤️ Huey! ❤️

Lee-Leaning Switch!! 65/35

Lee:

Okay, I think this gif says it all, but Huey can. NOT. stop. moving!!

One poke to the sides, and he is jumping away his with highest-pitched squeal you've ever heard

It's lowkey embarrassing sometimes because of how out of control he gets

Like, he's the oldest! He's supposed to be calm and collected!

That goes out the window when he's being tickled.

It's not that he doesn't like it, he thinks it's super fun and silly!

He just has no way to manage his body 🤷

I'd say his worst spots are his ribs, feet, back, and armpits

Usually, his laugh is very bright and airy, mostly consisting of surprised giggles

Get any of these spots though?

Instead, Huey is cackling like a lunatic, out of breath and looking like he's going crazy

His knees are a melt spot! Gentle tracing there, and he won't squirm as much, opting to curl up and giggle

Most definitely squeaks. Like- a lot.

Also cannot hold in his laugh for shit

Poor kiddo just bursts out laughing immediately

Has a habit of trying to talk through his laughter, but he can never really make coherent sentences. Can get out single words though

His brothers loove to tickle him as a means of convincing him to do things (Going on an adventure, donating to Louie's kids, etc..)

He and Dewey also regularly partake in tickle fights

It's pretty much a matter of who can reach the other's spots first to determine the winner

Doesn't get lee moods often, but they definitely still happen

The Duck family is actually extremely chill when it comes to tickling, so it's pretty normal for one of the triplets to just ask for tickles

Because of this, Huey can usually just ask one of his brothers or uncles for help :)

Whenever Huey does ask for tickles, he'll usually tell his ler to just pin his arms up or smth so he doesn't accidentally squirm away

Or hit someone. That has happened far more than he'd like to admit.

Still, his brothers always get over it, and love tickling him too much to ever stop

And when Della made it back from space???

OH YOU BEST BELIEVE HE IS GOING TO HIS MOM FOR TICKLES

Atp she tickles him the most

The first time, he probably just came up to her and asked, and Della was so surprised because like-

Her baby is ticklish?? He wants to be tickled?? 😃 He wants to be tickled by her??? 😭😭😭

There were some tears of joy that day, and she definitely indulged

I am sososo grateful we got lee!Huey in canon btw- because OH MY GOD 😭😭😭

Ler:

Loves tickling his brothers!!!

A more gentle ler, and is always very careful of boundaries

His style mostly consists of scribbling, and very rarely does anything rougher than a light squeeze

Huey tickles Louie the most, but it's usually because he asks the most. (more on that later)

Is willing to tickle anyone if they ask, and is always so happy to do so

Does tease, but only when it's someone he's familiar with, and the mood is chill

"Ahhtickletickletickle!! Is this a good spot?" "I've got you now~"

Things like that

Now, remember how I said he rarely tickles roughly??

Well, there are two exceptions.

One of those exceptions being if it is specifically requested by his lee

It's typically Dewey who does this, but Huey is still very cautious

Checks in more often when he's tickling harder, just to make sure everythings hunky dory

There hasn't really been a time when things went too far, and Huey is genuinely proud of that

Again, very respectful. Never wants to make anyone uncomfortable.

Now for the second exception.

It is a pretty well known fact that Huey can get out of control when he's really mad or worked up

Someone has to do something really wrong to awaken an angry Huey.

When that person happens to be one of his little brothers??

Well.. let's just say he didn't earn the title Tickle Monster for nothing.

Emphasis on the monster part

Even when he's seething, Huey still has the common sense not to hurt his siblings

But that doesn't mean he isn't willing to tickle them until they're crying and high-key about to piss themself

This has only happened like, 3 times?

Even so, the lee certainly knows what they did wrong, so there is no doubt that any of it is unprovoked

When he's in this zone, he does not say a word

Just stares menacingly at his lee, and keeps it up until they either apologize, or (more likely) he feels like he's evened out the score

And again, it does take a substantial amount of annoyance to unleash the Tickle Monster

And Huey always lets people know when he's getting annoyed waaay before he resorts to drastic measures

Will always ask if the lee is okay after he tickles them, and will probably get them some water

Bro, we managed to get lee AND ler content (technically) of Huey- I CANNOT BELIEVE IT!!!

💙 Dewey! 💙

Switch!! 50/50

Lee:

Absolutely loves tickling!

This boy yearns for attention every day of his waking life- tickling is no different!

Dewey's a fighter though, so his ler better expect to be able to hold their ground

Will tickle anyone back without hesitation

Well.. except for the Huey Tickle Monster..

That's the one time when he just accepts his fate.

Other than that, Dewey will totally slap away hands, buck, arch and kick- it's just his nature.

Worst spots are his sides, feet, belly, knees, and surprisingly enough, his cheeks!

He's pretty ticklish in other places too, but these spots can be really killer

Okay, let me tell you!!

THIS. BOY. HAS. NO. SHAME!!

Absolutely zero

If he wants to be tickled, he's walking up to whoever is closest and practically demanding that they do so.

He gets lee moods somewhat often, but he'll ask even if he's not in a mood

He could just be a little bored, and just go up to a brother for tickles

Donald thinks it is so cute, so of course he never says no

His brothers pretend it's annoying sometimes, but they've never said no either soo..

Even though he does move around a bit, Dewey can actually manage to keep his arms up pretty well if he wants to

You know the 'Arms Up' game??

He's deemed himself the all-time winner!

Only lost once, and that was to Webby

Dewey's laugh is super sporadic- it ranges from frantic giggles, to squealing, to cackles, and everything in between! Sometimes within a few seconds!

I said his cheeks are one of his worst spots, but they're also a melt spot for him!

Gentle fluttering there makes him squeak and grab onto his ler's wrists

Will straight up throw in the towel if he's being tickled that way, the light sensations are unbearable to him

During lee moods though, sometimes he'll ask specifically for cheek-tickles

Gets tickled by pretty much everyone, whether he asks or not

Donald specifically has to tickle him to calm some of the energy down sometimes

With three kids, he tries and tries to find ways to make life more manageable

He's found that 5 minutes set aside to tickle Dewey consistently works to keep him under control

By the way, we can all agree that he is the biggest mama's boy known to man, correct? Good. I thought so.

Dewey is always asking her to tickle him, and has even gotten her back a few times!!

For a while, he went into detective mode to try and figure out if she was ticklish

Asking Uncle Donald, his brothers, everyone.

At some point, he crept up behind her and just squeezed her sides

Della legit screamed, whipped around, and tickled the daylights out of him.

Dewey had no regrets, and now will always start tickle fights with her.

NOT ONLY DID WE GET CANON TICKLES FOR HUEY, BUT DEWEY IS TICKLISH TOO!! 🥳💞💞

Ler:

He is a crazy ler!!

Tickles anyone and everyone ALWAYS.

If you let your guard down for a minute, there is a 90% chance that you're gonna get got.

His style is super chaotic, with wiggling fingers, tazes, squeezes, pokes..

Dewey will dew it all.

Depending on who he's tickling, he adjusts to tickle lighter or harder

His only goal is to make his lee laugh as much as possible

If light tickles can achieve that? He's going in gentle!

Harder tickles get a better reaction? He's doing that instead!

He tickles everybody about the same amount, but he does get Webby pretty frequently

Keeps track of how many times he's gotten each of his friends/family throughout the week

Does respect boundaries of course, but Dewey can get carried away sometimes

The triplets have a codeword, so he usually stops as soon as they say it

Besides that, he can forget that people need to breathe

He does do his best to check in sometimes, it just might take a second for him to remember

Gets ler moods too, and typically goes to Louie for those

His little brother whines about it, but will usually accept.

If the script is flipped, however, and someone goes to Dewey with a lee mood??

Oh ho ho, he is ecstatic!!!

As soon as boundaries and limits are communicated, he is practically jumping on his lee and going crazy.

Seems like the type to pin people down to get their worst spots

Sits on legs, holds an arm up, all of that.

Teases like nobody's business!

Wiggles his fingers, slooowly inches closer to a tickle spot, and that's just the physical stuff!

With verbal teasing, he'll make little sound effects as he works, gives compliments, whatever he can think of.

Will also pretend that he's not the one tickling his lee, asking them again and again why they're laughing

"What could possibly be so funny! Unless.. you've finally realized how hilarious I am!"

LOVES to use raspberries

They always get such frantic reactions from his brothers, how could he not use them??

Will end it all with a hug and some more compliments to keep the mood light

💚 Louie 💚

Lee!! 95/5

Lee:

Okay, look at his silly little face and tell me that this kid is anything but a lee.

I only put 5% because I feel bad for him 😭/hj

No but seriously, Louie is the biggest lee of the family! No doubt about it.

He actually really likes tickling, but refuses to admit it.

His brothers know already, they see right through his facade

Gives bratty lee energy, but it is super easy to take him down a peg.

Very big squirmer, but (suspiciously enough) never tries to actually get away.

He'll arch, twist, and kick halfheartedly, and will also wrap his arms around himself though

His laugh is loud and abrupt, and always sounds hysterical and loopy

Even if less ticklish spots are being targeted, he immediately bursts out into giggles with no chance at speaking

His words just jumble together, and it sounds like he's drunk or something

Because of this, if Louie can't manage to get the duck's safe-word out, a tap on the shoulder or the leg works just the same.

Also hides his face A. LOT!!

Hides in his hoodie, or puts his hands over his face

Worst spots are probably his sides, feet, armpits, belly, and neck

Can't take being tickled for very long, he's super sensitive

Cries extremely easily too

Like, a couple scribbles to his stomach and poor Louie is shaking his head frantically, hitting at the floor with a red face and tears in his eyes

It always scares the crap out of Huey, but they've talked about it. It's just how he reacts.

Dewey is more used to it, and rarely pays any mind when his little brother turns into a living water fountain

Teasing makes this boy's face so red- He's cooked the moment a word leaves his ler's mouth.

I said before that Dewey is great at the 'Arms Up' game..

Louie is not.

He doesn't even have a proper score because he never even managed to get his arms above his head in the first place

His brothers have tried to get him to play countless times, but the very mention of tickling has his nervous system going crazy

The most he's accomplished on his own was getting them half up, with his elbows pressed to his sides

The other triplets just yank his arms up and tickle him anyways, the game long forgotten at the sound of his surprised shrieks

If you catch him by surprise, Louie will quite literally collapse

Dewey loves to clamp onto his sides when he least expects it, because his reaction is hilarious.

His knees will buckle, and he'll go falling to the floor with a screech

It always cracks his brothers up.

Gets lee moods on a weekly basis at least

It's very common for Huey to find his littlest brother acting quieter than usual, with a slightly pink face and his hands fidgeting in his pockets.

Louie is pretty much the only one embarrassed to ask for tickles, so he'll try to hide how he feels

Luckily for him, his siblings are too emotionally attentive to not realize when he's in a mood

Again, he doesn't directly ask for tickles, but Huey ends up noticing the most, while Dewey will tickle him more at random.

Can't say "tickle". It's just not in his vocabulary.

Instead, will make a face, and say:

"Uh... You know, the t-word."

When Della returned and was introduced to the family, it took a while for Louie to decide that he did want her to tickle him too

Dewey immediately took it as his mission to help, and spilled the info to their very surprised (and very touched) mom.

After that, Della made it a point to tickle her youngest whenever he wanted, and quickly picked up on some of the signs he would drop

BRO I NEED SOME LER DELLA CONTENT I SWEAR

Ler:

Not gonna lie, I can hardly see Louie as the type to tickle other people a whole lot, so apologies for this section being shorter than the rest 😅

Okay, it's not that he doesn't want to tickle people (although that usually isn't on his agenda)

Louie Duck is hopeless when it comes to being a ler

He gets so embarrassed just thinking about it that he gives up.

Cannot tease, or say tickle, or any of that

He's attempted to tickle his brothers a total of maybe 2 times, but it didn't work out

There was a time when he tried to scribble at Dewey's knee when they were watching tv

Dewey was legit so confused, because his brother had never ever done something like that, and lowkey asked if he needed something 😭

Louie played it off like he wanted the remote, but his face was so red- Dewey knew something was up

After some pointless questioning, Dewey just wrecked his shit right then and there.

----------

Okay, that's all I've got for now!! Apologies for my insane word vomit, I've been needing some content bro 🥲

Anyways, Ducktales is becoming a bigger fandom for me, so if you guys have requests, I'd be happy to write for them!

[if-you-give-a-dilf-a-danish]

Kidnapped P3: Everglades

A/N: Happy (late) Day of the Dilfs hehe also let me know if y'all want tagged for new chaps. i'd love that. Contains: snakes, storms, another helping of angst. changes to the 141's POV halfway through. Still no spoken words (yet) Part 1 Part 2 W/C: ~1230 @rafaelacallinybbay ═════════════════════════ The Everglades are a region of flooded grasslands and swamps in the southern portion of Florida. With a total area of ~20,000 km^2, this blend of pineland, wetlands and coastal prairies as well as sawgrass marshes are home to a massive blend of wildlife including mangroves, manatees, and a plethora of fish, reptiles, and birds. The climate divides its year into a boiling hot, rainy summer season and a milder, drier winter season. Tropical systems including hurricanes alter the ecosystems, causing destruction with their winds, rain and storm surge. But there's benefit to Everglades as well, using the winds to disperse plant seeds and the storm surge to bring rich sediment deposits.

Thunderstorms have been battering the dingy shelter for some time now. Sandy mud clings to your soaked clothes, another sleeve torn off Johnny’s hoodie to keep it out of the wound. The bleeding stopped, but you get anxious at the increasing soreness as the day passes on. You shiver in the downpour, no roof means you are pummeled with fat droplets. The sunburns on your exposed skin both burn and freeze with hypersensitivity. Looking up at the sky, the dark gray scares you with random lightning and thunder, you swore you could've also seen a palm tree sway when the winds get heavier.

Your captors took their sweet time with you. At first, they demanded information about your team; information you didn’t have. Your boyfriends didn’t tell you any details about their jobs, only that they killed people for the military, and that you would always willingly clean the blood off their hands and bodies when they came home. You tried to give what little crumbs they had: Your boyfriends’ names, the base they worked at, their dates of birth and their history. None of it was useful to them. They demanded more, about this specific case or that particular mission, you knew less information than what they already have.

Then, they carried out one of their methods. In the middle of the shelter was a pit, like a small pool but what was once filled with water now had sand and soil at the bottom. You were pushed in without warning, and another masked person kicked in a bucket. What spilled out was a Burmese python, 6 ft. long and already agitated from the handling. You had screamed and begged to be let out, unable to reach the edge to climb back up after you scrambled into the furthest corner of the pit. The python gets angrier as someone throws a rock at it, curling up and releasing a foul odor that the others jeer at.

You struggle to remember what happens after that. The snake struck at you, latching on to a sunburnt arm and coiling itself hard around it. The captors seemed to protect you from it, someone pried it off of you, letting the wound bleed down your arm before another captor half-assedly tied it up with some dirty fabric from wherever. You gathered that they want you alive for some reason, probably to bargain with for more information, someone that has more to give. They feed you something suspicious and grainy once a day, and the water tasted worse than the rain falling out of the sky.

Your mind exits itself when someone tosses in something chunky and plastic near your feet. A thick satellite phone rests in the puddle that splashed more dirt on you, the light of the screen cutting through the foggy water. You scramble towards it, clutching it with shaky hands. It’s clearly a set-up, they want you to cry for help and probably catch whoever comes running. You hope that your loves are smarter than that — that they sense it's a trap and you’re just a piece of cheese on the spring-loaded plate. You hesitate a second, wondering who to call. You don't know the time of day over there, let alone here with the storms. You clutch the phone closely, your once-vacant mind now racing.

═════════════════════════

A few days had passed, and they made a shrine of you. Photos snuck out of the still-prohibited house, placed in Price’s office alongside some of your clothes, your jewelry and your handwriting. It wasn’t meant to be a shrine, just a place on base to have you, to aid in their imagination that you’re really there.

John had set it up, fresh frames for the photos and the jewelry clean and glistening. He avoids looking at it for too long when it starts to look more like a memorial.

Johnny refused to give up the cologne for it, spraying his skin, clothing, and bedding daily that the scent overpowers when he’s near recruits. He only lightens up when the olfactory fatigue sets in and the alcohol irritates his skin.

Simon does the same with your soaps, wasting it in bubble baths that he soaks near-hours in. No one on base other than the other three approached him close enough to smell it. His skin dries and becomes itchy with overwashing.

Kyle wears your clothes, what started as socks and scarves turned into ill-fitting jackets and shirts; burning through each article they slowly gain his scent and lose yours in the process. When laundry duty comes knocking, he hides them in Simon’s room, who trades him your body wash for your favorite scarf.

What starts from there is a system between all four of them; your things bartered and divvied up amongst themselves, split and switched out like the treasure it is to them. 

John gives each of them back their jewelry plus copies of your photos. He also recreates your handwritten recipes for them in their small common room, with Simon scaring off the few recruits that the aroma attracts. In return, John showers with your soaps, loving how it mixes with his personal cologne.

Simon quarters the remaining soaps, the bar sawed in fours with his knife and travel-size bottles given to the rest. He gets your favorite scarf from Kyle and spritzes daily from Johnny. He helps John clean the kitchenette after meals, wearing the scarf in private instead of the balaclava.

Speaking of, the sergeant controlling the scent opts for a stronger parfum, spritzing Simon and Kyle with every kiss he gives. When his sense of smell returns, Johnny enjoys the slight change in the scent their skins do, moreso than the soaps. In return, he eats almost exclusively your cooking done by Price’s hand, and your hoodie is worn by him at all times.

Kyle gives away most of your clothing to them, guilty at first that your smell is gone but comforted by the others when they have their own offerings. He sees Johnny once a day for his spray and wears the stud earrings with your birthstones, caring very little for regulation or the looks received by strangers. His role at meal times is to set the little table with trays and silverware snuck out of the cafeteria.

Marginally healthier than hoarding, it let them realize they still had each other. That cutting pain in their hearts throbs just a bit less when they are around each other, smothered in you. Their duties keep them from decaying further, a distraction from the darker thoughts but the mundanity makes them long to be a part of your rescue; their pleading and bargaining gone nowhere.

The fourth night in, they play a board game that was another favorite of yours, Price having a cigar and Kyle watching Johnny like a hawk to make sure he doesn’t cheat. Simon shuffles the cards for another round when someone’s phone rings on the counter. Part 4

[angel-princess-anna]

Tributes to Maggie from the Downton Cast and Crew (Part 2):

Part 1

Hugh Bonneville (in addition to his previous comment):

Elizabeth McGovern:

Joanne Froggatt: "Today we lost a true legend. It’s hard to find the words to pay tribute to the iconic Dame Maggie Smith. I shared a screen with her on very few occasions but was fortunate enough to be in her company on many. She truly was a trailblazer, with the sharpest wit, the greatest talent, the naughtiest sense of humour, she was a force to be reckoned with. She had a charisma that you felt would live for ever (in many ways it will) and underneath all of that a huge heart. Thank you Maggie, for always being supportive and kind to me, for putting many a smile on my face with that sharp wit that no one could match, and for showing the rest of us just how it’s done.

Rest in peace Dame Maggie, my thoughts are with your beautiful family. 🖤"

Lily James:

Tom Cullen: "I remember a very specific part of the conversation Maggie and I were having when this photo was taken. Maggie had been doing a big and challenging scene where she is reunited with her old flame played by Rade Serbedzija. I was stood at the back, out of frame and able to observe these incredible actors at their work. But for whatever reason Maggie felt like she wasn’t getting the scene right. Maggie took the smallest moment, came back and next take, simply, effortlessly, delivered a masterclass. She was extraordinary. The director called “cut” and we moved on. I was spellbound. During our conversation at the window, I asked Maggie what she did in order for her to so swiftly and precisely produce such an elevated performance. I remember her looking me in the eye and saying “Oh darling! I was just holding in a fart!”. I remember us both bursting out laughing. I really wished that she had been just holding in a fart but of course that wasn’t the real truth, the real truth was that she worked tirelessly her entire career to make that scene look easy.

I only worked with her for a short while, but I feel so blessed to have had that experience. She was tough, demanded the best but making Maggie laugh felt like winning the lottery.

My heart goes out to her family, friends, her Downton family and all those she touched with her sharp, agile and acerbic brilliance.

We lost an absolute giant today 💔"

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Lesley Nicol: "It's a very close group of people so we're all devastated to think she's not around any more.' [...] "I'd never worked with someone of that calibre, and I thought, I don't know what I'll say to her, it will be really tricky, God she'll probably be really grand. She was not looking for anyone to be scared of her, or in awe of her, she just wanted to be in the gang [...] she was in with the crowd, and just very happy to be part of it all."

Jeremy Swift: "An honour to serve you Maggie."

Lady Carnarvon: "I never saw her on set with a little script, she knew it before she got here [to Highclere]. She worked so hard, to get up at silly o' clock... and to wear corsets for hours on end." [Highclere Castle's post]

Harriet Walter: "She was a true comedian, but also I've seen her playing some incredibly heartfelt, deep, sad roles, which is the huge range of an actress like her. If she was merely funny or merely tragic, she wouldn't quite have made that sort of impression."

Anna Mary Scott Robbins: "I C O N 🤍 Oh Maggie you will be missed 💔"

(special thanks to @lovelikewildness for helping to compile)

[starlightsearches]

hi star! I saw your post about some election season comfort, so I hope it's okay if I send in a request! ☺️ (this is @charlottesbookclub btw, that person who's very unhinged about your stunning hux arranged marriage au – that might contextualize this ask a little haha)

I'd be so down to hear any additional thoughts you have on hux and his wife!! 🧡🧡

I was having some random scattered thoughts, but do with these what you will or feel free ignore them entirely!

them visiting his wife's home planet (which maybe has seasons, and thus perhaps some nice fall foliage) and she's like "the colors are so gorgeous, it looks just like your hair" to hux and he gets all flustered

they finally take that shared bath he fantasized about when he saw her in the tub??

can we give hux space hot coco?? like maybe again, it's a thing on his wife's home planet and she gives him some and he gets one of those marshmallow/whipped cream mustaches (space version of course lol) and she laughs at him, and he's like "ah fuck" and she's like "no not like that, you just look cute" and then fluff??

idk if these are anything, but they were the autumnal themed fluff thoughts that were circulating through my brain! again, literally no worries if you'd rather not do anything with them, I'd be so down to hear anything you'd like to share! ☺️🧡

anyway, I just want to say thank you for doing this, because election anxiety is so real! 💕💕 and if you don't end up having the energy to get to this, no worries at all! ☺️ I just want to say that I appreciate you and your writing so much and I hope you're able to take care of yourself during this stressful time! 🥰🥰

AAAAAAHHHHHH YAY!!!! I'm so happy I'm not the only one who loves the arranged marriage AU and I will happily chat with you about it forever and ever and ever and ever 💖 thank you for your sweet request and your even sweeter words, my love! wishing you peace of mind!

Warnings: a few vague allusions to patricide but nothing specific 🤭

The air is crisper than you remembered—cleaner in your lungs than anything you'd been breathing on The Finalizer, despite all the filters and processes it went through as it circulated.

You pull in cold, aching lungfuls, full of the smell of smoke and decaying leaves and fine leather—from Armitage's hand in yours, warm even through his glove.

Maybe this is just what it feels like to breathe without your father around.

Your husband had something to do with it, you're sure. You haven't asked, and he hasn't mentioned it. All the gratitude in you is aimed in his direction, regardless. For more than just this.

"How long has it been," you ask him, quiet, like you might break the stillness, pop the comforting shell that holds you both, "since you've been planet-side for this long?"

His eyes, normally impenetrable and grey, shine green in the light of the sunset, and his breaths grow a little heavier when you press closer against him to stave off the cold.

"It's been— a long, long time."

When Armitage meets your eyes, his cheeks and nose are dusted with pink from the cold air, but the color only deepens when your lips brush the shoulder of his coat.

You tug him further into the copse of trees, just past the garden and the greenhouse, into the shelter of their branches. Vivid leaves dust the ground you walk and the sky in the spaces between sunlight, and your heart swells with a happiness you had never imagined for yourself.

You had sobbed, after your father told you, cried and cried into the soft dirt here beneath your feet before you had ever seen the man who was supposed to be your husband.

It had felt like a death sentence. An ending. A thin slip of silk tied over your eyes before the executioner pressed the blade to your throat.

But it's all so much sweeter than any life you could have dreamed of—to be here with a man who blushes at the brush of fingers, who shows you in his every movement, in his every look, how deeply devoted he is to you.

You come to a stop, gentle, turning to face your husband, finding his other hand and taking it in your own.

"What is it?" he asks, and his voice is strained, on a knife's-edge of anxious.

You part your lips to speak, but no words make it out, your eyes caught on something just above his earnest, and a little frightened, gaze.

It almost blends in—a little more green than the reddish-blond of his hair, and you pick the leaf out by the stem, holding it in the space between you.

"You match," you tell Armitage, and he scoffs a little, but doesn't pull his hand away, his fingers still gripping tightly at your own.

"Do you like them?" you ask, and his eyes stray from yours for a moment, taking in the scenery with a critical set to his brow, determined to answer you honestly.

"I do," Armitage nods, and you toss the leaf to the side, taking his hands again.

Your face folds into a smile.

"I love you, Armitage."

His eyes go wide. You've frightened him, but he won't let you pull away from his grip.

The space between you shrinks with each shuffle of your feet, moving closer because you want him to know you understand. Know that he won't chase you away.

"It's alright. You don't have to say it back."

Armitage nods, relieved—you feel it when his nose brushes your cheek, breath hot against your skin. Maybe he does say the words back to you in the seconds before his lips meet yours.

✨☕️✨ Cozy Time 2 ✨☕️✨