#like a ‘I’m finally free of ‘imperfections’��� moment

[unfortunatelyilikebnha]

Thinking abt kazuma,,, thinkng abt how he has silver eyes compared to kazumi’s gold,,, as if even kazuma’s character design is telling the world he’s in second place, & that he’ll never live up to his brother’s example </3

[grimmweepers]

— ☆ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: although it wasn’t in the way that he planned, zhongli finally proposes to you ♡

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Zhongli x F!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.7k | masterlist | byf/dni

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: fluff, toothrotting fluff, established relationship, he calls you ‘my love’, ‘dearest’, you’re aware of him being the former archon, set at that floating island in the sky, you guys are so so in love lalalala

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

this piece is part of a flufftober event by spookuna ♡

For a moment, Zhongli couldn’t believe the words that left his lips. It had slipped out so naturally, so casually, as if he were merely asking about the weather. The question always lingered within him, much like the ring that waited patiently in his pocket whenever he decided the time wasn’t quite right.

Zhongli, a man of tradition, had always envisioned asking you at an appointed hour, at an appointed place, where the occasion would be nothing short of extraordinary.

Yet, here it was, out in the open, spoken with such casualness that betrayed its significance.

A gentle breeze swept across the landscape, nudging the summer clouds into a lazy drift. It was a cozy day for Liyue and as the sun made its descent below the horizon, the sky transformed into a fiery shade of orange.

High above Teyvat, hidden amidst the clouds, two pairs of legs dangled over a small floating island. They belonged to you and the former Archon, who often sought refuge in this corner of Liyue. Your fingers were intertwined with his as you gazed over the endless expanse. Finally free of prying eyes and the demands of everyday life, you sighed.

“Isn’t Liyue extra beautiful today, Zhongli?”

“It is, indeed,” he hummed, yet his eyes were not on the fading day. His gaze was fixed solely on you who sat beside him so calm and content, that he almost felt a pang of loss when you let go of his hand to rest your chin in your palm.

A small smile formed at the corners of your lips when his response reached your ears but your attention remained at the world below.

“I think you would appreciate its beauty more if you actually looked, you fool,” you replied, chuckling as you turned his face toward the dotted treetops and silhouettes of tiny homes.

Zhongli feigned a tired sigh, “No, I’m very aware of Liyue’s grace. I just prefer what’s in front of me, my love.”

You nudged him playfully, your legs swinging carelessly in the air. If there was a part of you that was afraid of heights, it vanished entirely in his presence.

“I’m serious,” He said, sliding an arm around your waist as a subtle invitation for you to relax your head on his shoulders.

He was serious though.

Being immortal— he had learned— was both a gift and a curse. It granted him both solitude and loneliness. He watched Liyue grow through centuries as if it were his very child and only two years ago, you had marched into his life like a reminder that love had not forgotten him. Beyond even the gift of immortality, you gave him a reason to cherish the present. So yes, he was utterly serious about choosing you above all else.

Unaware of his contemplation, you decided to tease him. “So you’re telling me you’re growing tired of Liyue?” You knew he wasn’t but what was the point of being tough and impenetrable if you couldn’t poke a bit of fun?

“How could I?” he shook his head. “Liyue is forever new and beautiful. You, however, are just a terrible distraction.”

You both laughed but there was weight to his words. Selfishly, he was thankful for not being the Archon anymore because, by Celestia above, you would have distracted him more than he dared to admit from his duties.

Then you remembered something.

“Oh, right!” You sat up and a soft smile played on your lips when you began taking out a book from your travel bag. The stiff cover and imperfect stitching suggested to him that you had made it yourself.

“I have something to show you.” You opened to the first page and there was a photo of you two from one of your travels. “Remember this?”

He chuckled, the memory still vivid in his head, “Do you know who you’re speaking to?” Zhongli took the book from you, studying it before flipping to the next page and then the next.

“I can see that you’ve put the photos in order… How thoughtful.”

You nodded.

Then he stopped at a certain picture, “Ah, our first Lantern Rite together— that was a pleasant night. You were so enchanted by those noodles from that vendor, that you insisted on having them for dinner all week.”

“And for some reason, my hunger has not yet been quelled, Zhongli,” you teased with another nudge.

“Soon, soon. I promise,” he replied with a sly grin only reserved for you.

“You know,” you began, “I’d like to travel beyond Liyue someday.”

“Where would you go?” he raised a brow at the sudden statement.

You hummed, thinking for a moment and then you pointed at the patch of emerald forestry barely visible through the billowing clouds, “Sumeru— the jungles there are supposed to be incredible. Or perhaps Inazuma. The cherry blossoms there are breathtaking,” turning more to the south as you said the latter.

As always, Zhongli listened while you rambled on about your future adventures.

“...We could go anywhere, do anything,” You suggested at the end of your little spiel.

“We can plan something,” he agreed.

“Oh, it’d be magical,” your heart swelled at the idea, “Maybe we could even reach Fontaine and have a picnic by their waters.”

You nearly gasped at how remarkable your idea was, “Oh my, Zhongli. Can you imagine sitting under the sun? With a book? My bones are getting all relaxed just thinking about—”

“Dearest?” Zhongli gently interrupted.

“Yes?” You replied, slightly worried about talking too much.

“Do you suppose we could keep doing this?”

“This?” You looked around the floating island, admittedly a little bewildered, “As in, coming here? Why would we ever stop?”

“No, no. I’m referring to us, just being together wherever we go. It doesn’t matter to me where we are.”

“Zhongli…”

“Do you think we could continue this… journey together?”

The question hung in the air, simple yet profound.

At this point, you turned fully to him, gaze softening as you met his amber eyes. They were wise and longing and wonderfully human.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Any form of hesitation died in his throat as he fiddled with his pocket and presented a ring to you. The world faded into a soft blur as he did.

“Then do you suppose you could marry me?”

Nothing but your breath escaped your lips. You were momentarily speechless. Sure, Zhongli had been oddly quiet but today was meant to be just another day. Now, your reality as you knew it became a distant memory.

He swallowed hard as he held the ring. It looked ancient but well-preserved, like a piece of fine craftsmanship. The gold band had delicate carvings unfamiliar to you and the stone was cut in such a way that it caught and refracted the last rays of sunlight as if it were alive. Maybe it was the remnants of divinity residing in him, but it radiated a soothing warmth in his hand. How would anyone believe that a humble consultant at the Wangsheng funeral parlour proposed to you with this?

Your chest began to bubble with emotion and you wanted to scream.

“Y-You want to marry me?” Your voice caught in your throat.

You could feel yourself getting hot, the reality of him wanting to be with you forever slowly crept up on you.

“Yes, I simply want to enjoy life with you. But if it takes a contract to call you my wife then of all the contracts I’ve ever woven, this one will remain my final and most sacred.”

He looked at you with a reverent smile.

“So what do you say?”

You pulled him into a tight embrace, feeling his words settle over you. In front of you wasn’t just the God of Contracts; he was the man who captured your heart. For every lingering kiss, every fulfilled promise, every time he opened you up to a new world of knowledge even when you thought you saw it all, and for every time he lent an ear and believed in your dreams— you knew what your answer would be.

“Yes. Yes!” The second time sounded louder than the last. Your voice was full of so much tenderness and conviction. You couldn’t stop saying it. “Yes, a thousand times, yes.” If you told the version of yourself from many years ago that you would be this important to someone, you would laugh.

“Thank you,” he said in the most sincere voice you’ve ever heard. “You have made me the happiest I’ve felt in a long time.”

Zhongli slid the ring onto your finger before cupping your face. You could feel the trail of kisses he was leaving on your forehead, then down your cheeks, and finally they found home between the plush of your lips— his kisses were so warm and gentle that it was hard to believe this was the same God people described as having a heart of stone.

Everything around you seemed to pause. The sun had almost fully set and the sky was now painted with the first hint of evening stars. With you in his arms, he wondered if this sense of peace came from being on this island or from the fact that he could now soon call you his wife.

Wife… he repeated in his head. His wife… it sounded just right.

A crisp breeze had settled between the two of you, perhaps for the better, to calm your burning hearts. After finally breaking away from him, you were the first to speak.

“So, what do we do now?”

Zhongli chuckled, pressing a kiss to your hair, “We continue, just as we always have… However, I hope you don’t mind me being a little more permanent to you now.”

“Permanent, huh?” You smiled, feeling a warmth coursing through you that had nothing to do with the summer air. “I like the sound of that.”

Eventually, Zhongli rose, helping you to your feet. He offered you his arm with a familiar gentlemanly gesture, “It’s getting a little dark. Shall we head back, my love”

“Mmm,” You slipped into his grasp, “Let’s go home.”

Home. The meaning was always tied to Liyue, by the earth and stone he had shaped for thousands of years. But now that's changed.

No matter where the world took him, as long as he faced it side-by-side with you, he knew that home would be wherever you were. Seeing you was like returning to a place he never truly left. Lost in thought, his thumb brushed gently over the ring he had just placed on your finger.

Home.

Zhongli liked the sound of that.

For the first time in his long life, the word felt complete.

a/n: i actually wrote this for an oc a while back, but i’m so glad i get to share this with people because i was so smitten at the time of writing it and reading this brings back all those feelings

© 2024 grimmweepers — do not repost, copy, translate, modify my work on any platform

all dividers are from @/chachachannah

[yoonia]

— Dia’s tumblr wrapped 2024 

I know it’s super late for me to share this, but just as many would say, it’s better late than never. Thank you so much for the lovely people who tagged me to do this: @beomcoups, @shadowkoo, @kingofbodyrolls ♡

2024 started off smoothly…until it didn’t. The final quarter of the year has always been a hard time for me and it wasn’t that much different this year. As you can probably notice that I’ve been mostly absent ever since the end of October and I deeply apologise for that. I also regret not planning things properly and for not keeping up with my goals this year but that only means that I'll be dragging my WIP list towards the next year.

Thank you so much for everyone who has been there for me this year, and those of you who have stuck by me despite my inconsistencies. I really appreciate your presence on my blog, whether it’s through your likes and kudos, your reblogs, your comments and replies on my contents, and the kind words you sent me through my ask box. You guys have made it worthwhile for me to be here even after all these years, and I don’t think I can thank you enough for that. Here’s to mark the end of our wild journey through 2024 and enter the new year of 2025. 

OVERALL FIC STATS 2024

Number of fics posted: 4 (four) one-shots, 2 (two) ongoing series, 3 (three) ficlets

Number of fics revamped: 2 (two) completed fics, 2 (two) ongoing series

Number of words written: 448,057 words (dang, no wonder I felt so burned out lol)

Number of fics in progress: 32 (oh, boy…) 

FIRST FIC OF 2024

❥ A Christmas Fix 01 & 02 —  posted Jan 31st & Feb 1st | 1,926 & 1,226 notes

My thoughts: This was…quite a journey. It’s been a while since I wrote a rom-com story and I was pleased to have been given the chance to write this idea through a collab. The final outcome wasn’t too disappointing either, since I enjoyed writing it and reading it afterwards. I’m glad everyone loved this story as well.

MOST POPULAR FIC OF 2024

❥ The Stand-In (Revamped version) — posted Aug 13th | 4,267 notes

My thoughts: Okay, yeah…I cheated a little. But to be fair, this fic did get a lot of notes this year before and after the revamping process. I loved this story so much that I felt like it deserved a major makeover and I’m glad I managed to do it this year.

LONGEST FIC OF 2024

❥ The Bedroom Hymns — series, ongoing, last updated Sept 9th | 50k++ words | I’m too lazy to open each chapter to count the notes I’m so sorry lol

My thoughts: I know…I know, I need to update this one again. I had to take a break from this series because this fic literally became my main focus this year that a lot of my WIPs kept getting pushed back just so I could finish more of this. I had to stop at some point to finally set free my WIPs. I have to admit that I also lost my motivation to write this due to the lack of notes and responses that I got with each update no matter how much time I spent working on it (tacky, I know…but it is what it is). I still love and enjoy writing this, so more chapters are coming. I can see this fic becoming my main focus again in 2025 until I’m done with it.

LAST FIC OF 2024

❥ The Forsaken II: Tears of the Sea — posted Oct 24th | 712 notes

My thoughts: Holy hell…this fic. Who would’ve thought that I’d be revisiting siren!Taehyung this year after…3 years?? Thank you, whoever it was that sent this during my birthday event. I never expected to write a full fic for this to continue the original story and to answer a lot of your questions, but I’m glad I did! 

Honorable mention: 

❥ Our Imperfections — posted Oct 30th | 92 notes

My thoughts: This was the last thing I actually released before I dipped into the void but I couldn’t count this as a fic as this was considered a ficlet or, in a more common term, a drabble.

PERSONAL FAVOURITE FIC OF 2024

❥ Blooming Wallflowers — posted Sept 25th | 927 notes

My thoughts: I had one of those rare moments where I found myself enjoying the writing process of a story so much that things simply kept flowing until it became a full story. This one went twice the size planned (and commissioned) but I have no regrets. At all.

Honorable mention: 

❥ Maps (revamped version) — series, completed, posted Sept 6th, 7th, & 11th | 1,4k++ notes (again, I’m too lazy to open each chapter lol)

My thoughts: I initially planned to release something else for DPR Ian’s birthday this year. But then I started revamping the graphics for his old fics instead and decided to revamp the whole series while I had the chance. This one has always been my fave work that I wrote for Christian, so diving back into this to do a makeover and give it a major upgrade felt absolutely fulfilling. 

2024 SPECIAL EVENT

❥ 𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖋𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖆𝖉𝖊: yoonia’s 2024 birthday bash

My thoughts: Once again, I can’t thank you guys enough for joining this small event of mine. I promise that I’ll have another event in 2025 so please stay tuned! (see you in March!) 

Fave reads of 2024

I have to admit that I haven’t been doing a lot of fic reading this year. But I’m happy that I got to dive back into reading some fanfics during my birthday event and found some lovely gems that I truly enjoyed

The Taste of Sin by @shadowkoo

Vignette: Duty by @cybrsan

The Athlete by @beomcoups

A Lover's Redemption by @writtenwhalien

Dandelion by @shina913

The Wood by @sailoryooons

Minted by @kithtaehyung

Mr. & Mrs. Yoon by @monamipencil

On The Ropes by @raplinesmoon

Top Ten Tracks of 2024

Loved — B.I

People — Agust D

Make You Mine — Black Violet

Gemini — Cheyenne 

Close To Me — Mamie, Eloy, Trippy Bass

HUH?! — Agust D feat. J-hope

Love — Lana Del Rey 

Reasons — COTIS 

Watch Me Burn — Michelle Morrone 

Die First — Nessa Barrett  

GOALS FOR 2025

Write more. Tackle more WIPs each month. 

Finally finish my old abandoned WIPs (About Time, Blood Moon Rising and the Shifters Series, Chance Encounter) 

Finish writing and officially release my original stories/novel as a web-series

Try to do better with planning and scheduling and keeping up with them

Finish revamping Carousel and release the novel version on Ream

Read more. Both published books and released fics

Focus more on my personal health, mental and physical 

Start job hunting again

I know I’m late for this, so I’m passing this over to the writers who are tagged on the list above (if you haven’t done this yet) and also tagging a few who come across my mind right now (only if you want to!): @ressjeon @lo1k-diamonds @pars-ley @minisugakoobies @inkedtae

And also tagging randomly anyone who feels inspired to create their own tumblr wrapped! 

[mylifesjustacarousel]

the sorcerer and the apprentice - castlecoming

pairing: james hook x gn!reader (requested)

summary: castlecoming is finally here, but you’re starting to have some doubts…

type: angst, fluffy towards the end

CW: anxiety, panic attacks

WC: 1.1K

prequel | part 1 | part 2 (requests are open!!)

Castlecoming was tomorrow, and you were a nervous wreck. You never cared about what others thought of you. You’re confident, you’re strong, all that mattered to you was what you thought about yourself… but he changed everything. You don’t even know how it happened. One day you were dueling in the courtyard, and the next you were figuring out what outfit would best match his tie. For the first time in forever, anxiety was coursing through your veins.

What if it was a prank? What if he was trying to get back at me for something?

The walls were closing in, the floor felt like lava beneath you, your knees felt like they were in your armpits. Every shaking breath felt like it could be your last with how fast your heart was trying to beat out of your chest. This wasn’t a usual feeling that you had, but when it hit, it hit hard.

I have to get out of here, you thought.

You raced over to your door, grabbing your bag from your coat rack. Your sweaty palm slipped on the door handle once or twice before gripping it, yanking your door open before you made your way out of your room. You were walking with such haste that you weren’t really keeping awareness of your surroundings. Bumping into someone, your feet slipped out from under you and you fell onto the floor.

“Oh my gosh, are you okay?” A light and sweet voice asked, a hand with perfectly manicured pink nails reaching out to help you.

Bridget was standing there, a sympathetic smile on her face. Your shaky hand grabbed hers and she pulled you up from the ground. “Um, yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for asking, B,” you mumbled, your eyes glued to the floor. She wrapped an arm around you, ultimately deciding that you needed someone, “Come on, let’s go to my room.”

“I just don’t know what happened. One minute I was finishing up my Castlecoming outfit, the next it felt like the room was shrinking in on me. I had to get out of there,” you sighed, picking up the cup of tea that Bridget had poured for you and taking a sip.

“It’s anxiety, y/n. It happens to all of us, even the bravest ones.” she reminded you, sitting down across from you. “It’s not supposed to happen to me. I’m supposed to be this carefree person, but what if I’m not? What if it’s all an act? I feel like a fake!”

She reached across the table, holding your free hand. “We all have our moments of doubt. Even the strongest people can feel small. We just have to embrace our imperfections and keep going, because we’re not perfect, and it’s okay that we’re not,” she smiled, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

I’m not perfect, and it’s okay.

Finishing your tea, you slowly stood up. “Thank you, B. I truly don’t know what I would do without all of that positive energy of yours.” Giving each other a hug, she gave you a cupcake for the road and let you make your way back to your room. You felt okay for the first time that night.

Everything will be okay.

The next night, you still had a small hint of anxiety, but you were keeping it under control. You fixed your outfit in the mirror before deciding that you were ready to go. Putting on your boots, you made your way out of the dormitory.

Flashing lights, blaring music. Good ol’ Castlecoming. Making your way inside, you looked for any signs of James, seeing as you were supposed to meet there. Your eyes scanned the entire room, not being able to spot him anywhere.

Oh no, I was right, I-

“Hello there, darling.” you quickly turned around, your cheeks burning a fiery red. James was stood there. He was wearing a black suit with a deep red tie, the same color as the jacket he usually wore around. For a pirate, he cleaned up extremely well. He grinned, giving you a quick up and down glance. “Did you think I wasn’t gonna show, y/n?”

Your eyes shot open, your cheeks somehow growing more red, “No, no! I-” he cut you off with a giggle, “Easy there, I got caught up. Turns out it’s not that easy tying a tie with one hand… you look nice. You ready?” He reached out his hand for you to take. Peace. You felt at peace looking into his eyes. Every worry or doubt that you had been feeling washed away in an instant.

You took his hand and he led you out onto the dance floor. People, of course, stared, whispering comments to each other. The principals child with a VK, that was certainly a sight to see. But he didn’t care, and neither did you. You were what each other needed, and you were both starting to realize that.

“So This is Love” started to play, and your eyes lit up. You loved that song, and Hook knew that. His favorite moments are when he catches you humming the song while you’re making your potions, no matter how much you deny that you do that. He looked over at you with a sickeningly sweet smile, “May I have this dance?”

“I think you may, Hook,” you wrapped your arms around him, the two of you swaying along to the song. Your head naturally found it’s way to his chest, his heart beat speeding up as you laid it there. His chin rested atop your head, his hand tracing shapes into the small of your back. So this is love…

Hours passed, and the smiles had not been wiped off of your faces once. Hook led you outside onto an empty balcony, the loudness of the room much quieter in the background. “I hope that, uh, tonight was fun for you,” he said softly, his cheeks a soft pink. You couldn’t tell if it was from the cold or if he was embarrassed, but you chose to believe the latter.

“Being a gentleman have you in a tizzy, James?” you teased, nudging his shoulder. He rolled his eyes, nudging you back. “I’m teasing, tonight was perfect… you think you have the energy for one more dance? Out here with me?”

“But there’s no music,” he looked around, confused. You just giggled and wrapped your arms around him, humming “So This is Love” to him. He followed suit, swaying with you. Your heads leaned together, the tips of your noses touching. You could feel his breath on your lips from how close together you were.

As you finished the song, he took it as his opportunity. His hand made its way to your cheek, his lips touching yours. It felt right, it felt like home. You cupped his cheeks, absolutely melting into his touch. The kiss only lasted a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity. You pulled away, and the smile that had never left his face was still there.

“So, I guess this is love,” he whispered to you. “Shut up and kiss me again, Hook.”

a/n: this is probably one of my favorite things that i have ever written. if you wanna see more like this, my requests are open!!

[matrixbearer2024]

Grief Of The Gifted

Ford doesn't get a perfect score and kind of has a meltdown, luckily Stan is there to ground him back to reality against self-imposed unrealistic expectations.

That moment when I decide to write for my modernity AU and it's actually completely freaking bonkers HAHAHA- but yeah, college AU set circa 202X because why not, have some Stan twins dynamic while I flesh out the rest of the AU with Fidds and Bill LOL-

Also yes, FIlbrick being a piece of shit father because OF COURSE HE IS- totally not projecting my own parental issues onto these two HAHAHAHA

The classroom was a ghost town when the final bell rang, sunlight filtering through the smudged windows in lazy, golden streaks. The world outside seemed to hum with freedom, the chatter of students in the hallways slowly dissolving into echoes, but for Stanford Pines, time stood still. He sat hunched over his desk, his fingers clutching the paper like it might burn through his skin, and in some ways, it already had.

That crimson “99” was seared into his mind like a brand, mocking him with its audacious imperfection. It wasn’t just a number— it was a reflection, a twisted mirror held up to his relentless expectations. The wrong answer wasn’t a simple mistake; it was a flaw in his very existence.

The sharp edge of disappointment cut deeper than he thought possible, leaving him hollow. When had learning— his sanctuary, his passion— become such an unbearable weight? Once, the pursuit of knowledge had felt like the thrill of a treasure hunt, a constant chase after the glittering unknown. But now, the treasures he uncovered weren’t enough to quench the insatiable hunger for approval that gnawed at him.

Approval he’d never truly receive.

His father’s voice echoed in his mind, not in words of comfort, but in the deafening silence of withheld affection. His achievements weren’t milestones— they were currency, cashed in for a fleeting glance of acknowledgment. And today, he had come up short. One point short. He could almost feel his father’s eyes glance past him, unimpressed.

Stanford blinked furiously, willing the hot sting of tears to retreat, but they came anyway, unbidden and burning. His hands twisted the fabric of his jeans, nails digging into his palms. The gloves he wore— itched, suffocated, hid— mocked him almost as much as the paper. Everything about him felt wrong, from the six fingers to the single missing point.

The classroom door creaked, snapping him from his spiraling thoughts. A familiar voice filled the silence.

“Hey, you doin’ okay?"

Stanley’s tone was soft, but his presence filled the room, grounding and real.

Stanford tried to speak, tried to muster some semblance of a reply, but his throat felt raw, as if the weight of that single red number had lodged itself there. His twin didn’t need words to understand; Stanley had always been attuned to him in a way that others weren’t, a mirror reflecting what Ford tried so hard to hide.

“You got the highest grade in the class, didn’t you?”

Stanley ventured, his tone casual, but his eyes brimming with a rare sincerity. There wasn't any of his typical joking sarcasm.

"That test was brutal. I’m lucky I squeaked out a B. You pulled an A+— that’s somethin’, Sixer.”

It wasn’t, though. Not to Ford. It wasn’t enough. The perfection he sought was like the horizon— always in view, never in reach. He felt the frustration bubble over, the words rising to his lips only to falter when Stanley smiled at him. That comforting, crooked grin— an unspoken reassurance that said, “It’s okay to let it out.”

And Ford did. The tears broke free, rolling down his cheeks as his body shook with the force of the emotions he’d kept bottled up. Anger, shame, exhaustion— it all spilled over, raw and unfiltered. He hated how weak he felt, how utterly vulnerable, but Stanley didn’t flinch. He didn’t pull away.

Instead, his twin stepped closer, wrapping his arms around Ford in a firm hug that anchored him in the storm of his own making. The world shrank down to just the two of them, the paper falling forgotten to the desk. Ford sobbed into Stanley’s shoulder, his brother’s steady presence a lifeline.

“Hey, it’s okay."

Stan murmured, his hand resting lightly on Ford’s back, careful not to press too hard.

“You’re killin’ yourself over one point, Six. One stupid point. You’re still the smartest guy I know. Ain’t nobody else gettin' an A+ from this damn prof."

But it wasn’t about the grade— it was never about the grade. It was about the invisible chains of expectation Ford had wrapped around himself, links forged by years of trying to be enough for a father who never gave him the keys to love.

Stan knew this, even if he couldn’t put it into words. He just held on, steady as a lighthouse in a storm, letting Ford cry until the tide ebbed and the weight of that red ink felt a little less crushing.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The classroom around them was quiet now, bathed in the soft, fading light of the evening sun. Ford’s sobs subsided into shuddering breaths, and Stan finally pulled back, resting his hands on his twin’s shoulders.

“Let it go, Sixer."

Stanley said, his voice uncharacteristically gentle.

“That number doesn’t define you. You’re more than that.”

For the first time that day, Ford met his brother’s gaze. The shame, the anger— they were still there, but they were softened by the warmth in Stanley’s expression. For a fleeting moment, Stanford believed him.

Because if anyone knew the weight of grief, of expectations unmet, it was Stanley. He bore it in his own way, in his own silence. And yet, here he was, holding Ford together when it felt like he was falling apart.

Maybe that was what love really was— not the transactional kind that demanded unrealistic expectation, but the kind that stayed, even when you felt like nothing more than a failure.

The grief of the gifted was a heavy burden. But once more, Stanford was reminded that he didn’t have to carry it alone.

Not when he had one hell of a brother by his side.

Tell me what you guys think about this one! Might continue with this AU as well as the fics for the time lord twins one :D

[barbwritesstuff]

I also love Chris and I would give my left kidney (or my right, whichever you prefer) if they got to be a full fledged RO. I’m just a sucker for exs who still clearly love each other and are able to overcome their issues, and there’s not a ton of ifs with a character like that.

I think it also helps that they’re the one with the most history with MC. They’ve known them long before they turned, and they’re the one RO with no connections to the supernatural world. In fact, every step you take towards rekindling things with Chris actually prevents you from experiencing the supernatural world, which I think is really interesting.

It’s like the relationship with Chris itself is a metaphor for Thicker Than in general. It’s using the past as a source of comfort and strength while you head towards a scary and unstable future.

I try to make all the ROs intersect with the main themes of the story in some way.

Chris, being the only one that knew MC when MC was alive, is very focused on the themes of humanity lost (and the pieces of it that remain). Their route also talks about lies, mistakes, and regret which I think is also 'on brand' for vampires.

Marcel is all about the masks the vampires lords wear. He plays the part of the shadowy vampire lord, but is actually softer and kinder than he appears. He kind of highlights how vampire society makes even the good vampires monsters.

Minjo is a bit of an oddball here. Her themes are less obvious. Ultimately, her themes might end up being that you can't always get your perfect 'happily ever after'. Perhaps, for vampires, it can only ever be fleeting moments of light in an eternity of darkness.

Freya's kindness and empathy is meant to highlight how needlessly brutal and cruel vampires and vampiric society can be. She's a witch, she has no reason to trust you, and yet she does, despite knowing exactly what you are. Her empathy towards ghosts, hunters, and other monsters is meant to highlight that all the paranormals are sort of outcasts in their own ways, and not as different as they might seem to each other.

Nathan is very focused on the horror of vampires from the perspective of humanity. He's seen the worst vampires can be and has turned himself into a weapon against the undead. But, in doing so, he's sort of killed himself too. He has no life outside that of the hunt. Being with him is both him and the MC deciding to live again, in their own ways.

Iliya, in contrast, is someone who enjoys being a vampire. Spending time with him, you see all the little ways being undead can be unique and special. He reads books, has affairs, carves his name into rocks underwater. But, in the end, even he isn't free.

On that note. Tracy's story is much more focused on how little freedom vampires really have within their own society. She had no choice, both in her life, and her death. Making you a vampire lord is her first real steps towards freedom, and it's incredibly dangerous for her.

Ravima route is sort of half finished right now, so is a little hard to talk about. Like Iliya, they find beauty in being dead, but unlike Iliya, their story focuses more on how those obsessions can destroy vampires as surely as the sun.

Erin isn't in the game yet but the idea I'm planning on exploring with her is how vampires humanity erodes. She was once a better person than she is now... and she knows it.

Of course, I'm an imperfect writer, so how well I can get those themes across in the final product remains to be seen. But that's the rough idea for all of the ROs. 😅

[acradelius]

hi! could you do a dom, giving moira and sub, receiving fem reader? i love how you write her :) maybe some action in her office/lab with a strap too ? tysm!

"Let's See How Well You Handle This One, Coinín~"

Fandom: Overwatch / Overwatch 2

Pairing: Moira O'Deorain x Female! Reader

Rating: Lemon [🟡] - (NSFW!)

Warnings/Mention Ofs: MDNI, Implied Non-Established/Possibly "Secretive" Relationship, Scientist / Scientist Assistance Relationship, Female x Female Relationship, Female Pronouns For Reader, Dominant! Female x Submissive! Female, "Mean, Punishing"! Moira, Possessive! Moira If You Squint, Strap-on Usage - Giving! Moira/Receiving! Reader, Clit Teasing, Nipple Play, Silicone P in V, Orgasm, Teasing With Cock-warming.

Word Count: 768 Words

Notes: This piece is technically considered to be a sequel part to this piece: "Quite The Punishment, Isn't It?"

If you'd like to be tagged for all posts, for certain fandom posts, or certain character posts then feel free to message me!

Those neat stacks of paper of research from the laboratory assistants that had taken quite some time to go through and essentially grade were now a disheveled mess amongst the floor, yet, Moira didn’t necessarily care for that at this moment. Why would Moira need to worry about some feeble papers about research that she was probably already aware about when she has something better presented in front of her? Despite that she was completely flustered, her skin slightly flushed from the situation at hand, that (Y/N) still looked absolutely stunning laying bare naked on Moira’s desk, clothes tossed aside on the floor to be forgotten about for the time being. “You did such a job well done, my dear Coinín~ While I would state that I’m surprised that you made it through the presentation without completely losing yourself to the immense please, you’ve been alongside me for quite some time now, so possibly you’re growing familiar to the punishments that I put you through~”

Moira could essentially state anything that she wants in that moment, but (Y/N)’s too preoccupied with the sight in front of herself despite laying on the desk to actually give a response. Especially since it was finally there for (Y/N) to actually view, for her to actually get to touch and experience with, that special gift that Moira had been hinting at for the last couple of weeks now. A custom made strapon. Being seven inches in length and three inches in width, colored with swirls of a glittering gold and an enigmatic purple from the tip down to the base of the cock. How it’s snuggly strapped onto Moira’s hips to rest against her pelvic, and how it just naturally blends in with Moira’s persona and aesthetic. Even for a moment (Y/N) swears that she could even see the cock throbbing, but it could be the arousal that was overtaking her mind.

There’s a brief moment where she proceeds to close her eyes in a moment of pleasure that courses throughout her body as Moira teasingly brushes the tip of the silicone cock against (Y/N)’s clit, chuckling softly. “Such an easy one to tease, such an easy one to please, aren’t you my dear Coinín?~” Watching as (Y/N)’s thighs twitch, clenching together slightly whenever that brief overwhelming rush washes over her body. Moira’s fingers trailing across (Y/N)’s skin, leaving lingering trails of an arousing fire, stopping amongst the various imperfections upon her skin as moreso a sign of reassurance that Moira loved (Y/N)’s body no matter how it looked. Gentle pinching and pulling at her nipples until they begin to perk and harden. Such a beautiful canvas waiting to be made into something more personal by Moira herself~

“More, please, Moira!~ F-Fuck, feels so good!~” (Y/N) manages to speak the words in between relentless moans and desperate whines, all those noises leaving her due to Moira’s rough, fast paced thrusts. Moira doesn’t mind that her thrusting is causing the desk to scrape against the floor, creating a loud scratching noise to echo throughout the air and scuff up the floor, she’ll get that fixed later. How (Y/N)’s fingers are tightly gripping the sides of the desk so much that they’re turning white, a feeble attempt to keep herself positioned on the desk despite moving quotes often from the force. A shiver courses throughout (Y/N)’s body at the additional sensations of Moira entangling her fingers within (Y/N)’s hair and firmly giving a yank followed by her other hand harshly smacking (Y/N)’s ass, a grin forming on her lips as the handprint, begins to form bright red and slightly irritated. 

 “Fuck!-” It’s quick to overcome and cause haywire to all of (Y/N)’s senses, the intense orgasm that finally unravels within (Y/N). How her body begins to tremble against Moira’s while her cunt flutters and proceeds to clench and unclench around Moira’s cock. Closing her eyes, (Y/N) lays her head amongst the desk as shaky breaths make way from her lips, basking in the afterglow of her orgasm. Only Moira knows how to give her pleasure beyond what she could imagine, and therefore, Moira is the only one that (Y/N) strives to be with, especially in moments as intimate as this one. “Such a job well done, (Y/N)~ Giving me excellent results as always~ Now, my dear Coinín, let’s see how long you can last keeping my cock warm while I grade the rest of these papers~”

[jellalism]

Diluc x GN!Reader fic: In safe hands

You are having a depressive episode. Diluc takes care of you.

Word count: 1018

Genre: Comfort

Content warnings: Depression, not wanting to eat, and anti-natalist thinking (i.e. thinking it is better not to be born).

Notes: First published on AO3 a year and a half ago. Thought I'd finally post it on here, too.

Read below or on AO3.

You sit on the couch of the Dawn Winery Manor. Knees up, nestled under a blanket, staring into space. Comfy, but you’re not happy. It isn’t that anything is particularly wrong, but you’ve been feeling down today. The whole week, really. It’s just one of those episodes you have every once in a while. You know you’ll get through it, but that doesn’t make it any easier to bear. On the worst days, you can barely drag yourself out of bed, eating is a chore, and doing any actual work is an impossible task. Today is perhaps not that bad, but not much better either. Add to that, the terrible boredom. If you had anything to distract yourself with, it might be bearable – but what do you do if your very diversions seem insurmountable tasks themselves? You sigh.

“y/n?” Diluc stands in the middle of the room, taking his coat off. You hadn’t even noticed him coming in.

“Hey,” you say. You wish you could be more outwardly enthusiastic, but you’re too sapped of energy. Inwardly, though, you are quite happy to see him.

“I see you are not doing so well.” He pauses, then walks up to you, bends over, and kisses your forehead. “Hold on, I will make you some tea.”

You murmur a word of thanks, but probably too softly for him to hear as he leaves the room. He could just have one of the servants make the tea, but he prefers to care for you with his own hands. Besides, his expertise doesn’t only pertain alcoholic drinks. He knows the exact right way to make tea, too. None of the servants’ tea can match the Master’s.

You listen to Diluc making noises in the kitchen, as he left the door open. Bringing the water to a boil, measuring the amount of tea, taking the pot from the cabinet – all the while humming a soft tune. Diluc has told you before that humming is an indispensable part of making good tea. You have your doubts, but have no reason to complain; you’re quite content listening to his song. Diluc isn’t free of his own demons, but he can get into the tasks at hand and lose himself in it, which allows him to hum in such a carefree way.

After a couple of minutes, Diluc returns, carrying a tray. On it, a pot of tea, two cups, and… a croissant. Why must he be so perceptive? you wonder. He definitely noticed you haven’t eaten – it is like a sixth sense he has. Diluc places the tray on the table and, without a word, starts pouring the tea. Then he puts one cup in front of you, giving you a smile and a wink. The second cup he places next to yours, and then he seats himself next to you on the couch. His arm goes over your shoulder and pulls you closer to him. You relax, leaning against his body. It’s warm, comfortably warm. You close your eyes.

“Tell me what is on your mind.”

You are silent for a moment, collecting your thoughts. “I don’t know,” you start softly. Diluc murmurs an encouraging sound. Still trying to find the right words, you continue: “Sometimes I just feel so down without an apparent reason. And once I’m that way, the negative thoughts come pouring in, to keep me held down. I fear that I’m never gonna be alright. That I’m not worthy of love. That I’ve misled people into loving me, because if they truly knew me, they wouldn’t stick around. That it'd be better for everyone if I were never born.”

“I respectfully disagree, my love.” Diluc replied. “You are… quite someone, you know? There is no need to be afraid that people would cower at the sight of the ‘real you’. I have been with you for some time, and you have bared your soul. And I am still here, remember? I love you with all your insecurities and wounds, all your mistakes and the things you think are imperfections. I have seen all of you, and I am ‘sticking around’. I love you, and I love being with you.”

A single tear runs over your cheek. “Thank you,” you say. The response feels inadequate, but you can’t quite put your feelings into words. “That means a lot,” you add, turning to face him. He smiles at you in a loving way. His right arm still wrapped around your shoulders, he brings his left hand to your face, holding your chin. His touch is ever so gentle, like you’re a beautiful yet fragile flower. You close your eyes as he leans in. His lips touch yours, press upon them with reservation betraying unparalleled devotion. He tastes like apple cider, with that slight taste of cinnamon.

As the kiss comes to an end, Diluc doesn’t lean back, but rather embraces you tightly. “You mean a lot to me,” he murmurs in your ear. “Don’t you ever forget that.”

You make no sound, letting yourself melt in his arms. They are so warm, so safe. Diluc breath tickles your neck.

After a while, Diluc lets go of the embrace, though one of his hands searches yours and holds it. With the other hand, he reaches for the plate with the croissant and picks it up. “Eat something, sweetheart.” You look at the pastry with aversion. Diluc doesn’t fail to notice. “I know you do not want to, but I do not wish to see you neglect your body. If you cannot do it for yourself, do it for me, alright?” He looks at you imploringly and softly squeezes your hand.

“Alright.” You remove your hand from his hold, take the croissant from the plate and take a small bite.

“Good,” Diluc mumbles under his breath. His now-freed hand goes to your head, and starts playing with your hair. “It’s so soft.”

As you slowly eat the pastry, Diluc continues his play with your hair. His fingers are so delicate, so careful. If it’s under his care, eating isn’t all that bad, you suppose.

Notes

Thanks for reading! I really enjoy reading your comments, whether that's as an actual comment or just your reactions in the tags of a reblog. So if you enjoyed, please leave a comment!

[silverofthunder]

☆ bella ☆

Papa Emeritus IV x plus sized!Female Reader || AO3

summary: You feel a bit insecure about your body and Copia helps you to feel better.

content: 724 words, plus sized!female reader, slight hurt/comfort, romance, fluff, SFW

Oopsie, I wrote another one. Basically I wrote this because I have been a bit insecure about my body every once in a while. I’m lucky to have a great boyfriend, though. ♥ So in a way, this is pretty personal. Hope you enjoy!

You looked at the blue dress hanging on the hanger by the door and then slowly turned to look at your body from the full length mirror. You were standing in front of it wearing only your underwear. With a sad sigh you let your eyes roam over your figure, not liking what you saw in certain parts. And the dress… It was an old one and you knew it wouldn’t fit anymore.

It was supposed to be a date night with your boyfriend but since you didn’t have anything pretty enough to wear, it would have to be canceled.

You set your hands on your stomach, lightly squeezing it, grimacing. It was way too soft, felt too big. There was slight stretch marks starting from the sides, going all the way to your hips, thighs. Tears started to sting in your eyes, and you turned away from the mirror, walking to your bed and grabbing your bathrobe, putting it on so you could hide your body.

Wiping your eyes, you picked up your phone and decided to look for a new dress from an online store. You were so caught up looking for the dress that you didn’t notice Copia entering the room before he spoke.

”Why haven’t you dressed up, mi amore?”

With a sigh you discarded your phone and turned to look at him.

”That dress won’t fit me anymore,” you said quietly. ”I’m too big.”

Copia’s brows furrowed as he sat beside you, wrapping his arm around you.

”It’s okay, my dear, we can go buy you a new one.”

”No…” you started frustrated, standing up fast. ”It won’t solve the problem that’s all of this.”

You let the bathrobe fall open, gesturing towards your releaved body while the new tears got free. The look in Copia’s eyes softened, though there was a hint of hurt in it, too. He stood up, stepping closer to you and reaching out to your hand.

”Oh, my dolcezza…” his voice was quiet as he took your hand in his, the other one going to your cheek, wiping the tears away. ”You are beautiful.”

You swallowed the lumb in your throat, eyes following as Copia kneeled slowly down.

”Every part of you is beautiful,” Copia whispered, starting to press freather light kisses onto your stomach. His hands settled on your hips, fingertips pressing gently into the softness. A shaky breath escaped from you as Copia’s lips followed the lines of the stretch marks.

”All of this…” Copia paused, looking up at you, ”...is a part of a woman whom I love more than words can tell.”

More tears fell from your eyes as you cupped Copia’s face. He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment. With one more kiss to your stomach he stood up, slowly and gasping as he finally straightened himself up.

”See, we all have our imperfections?” Copia stated, a small smile on his lips. ”My knees certainly keep reminding me that I’m not that young anymore.”

You smiled back at him, already feeling better. Your body had changed a lot in a short time as life tended to be stressful every once in a while. It was only natural that the body changed over time – sometimes less, sometimes more.

”How old is that dress, really?” Copia then asked, nodding towards the dress.

”I think I have had it at least five years.”

”So it’s about time to get a new one, right?” Copia’s eyes lit up, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. You knew that look – it could only mean that he had some idea.

”Maybe. Do you have something in your mind?”

”I might have,” Copia smirked, taking a hold of your hand and gently guiding you to spin around. ”We’ll see it tomorrow.”

”Tomorrow?”

Copia nodded, pulling you as close as possible. The smile on your lips got bigger and you wrapped your arms around your man.

”Does that mean that the date is postponed until tomorrow?”

”Yes, my principessa,” Copia answered softly, then leaning in and claiming your lips in a kiss. You hummed into the kiss as Copia’s hands roamed along your curves.

”So beautiful,” he spoke against your lips and your heart filled with warmth.

You were truly a lucky woman to have found such a lovely man.

[makethatelevenrings]

Angel by the Wing - TWENTY TWO

Chapter Warnings: discussion of child abuse and domestic violence, discussion of the possibility of miscarriage, allusions to homophobia

A/N: I’m nearing graduation so I’m in the final rush to get work done so updates will be going sloooooow for a bit. sowwy. love u.

Series Masterlist OR Mobile Masterlist

There is a reason why Jacob “Hangman” Seresin is such a dick.

He was seven years old the first time he saw his mom cover a black eye with concealer and a smile. Ten when he pushed himself in between Jennifer and Daniel Seresin and took a well-aimed smack to the face. Thirteen when Daniel stopped making his wife his main punching bag and started turning on Jake.

He was fifteen when he realized that he wanted to kiss Tony Garcia as much as he wanted to kiss Lisa Kelley. The words of his father haunted him at night. Things like how he didn’t raise no fucking fairy. How Jake was too much of a fucking sissy. How he needed to man up and take each hit like a champ.

Jennifer knew something was different about her son. She saw the way he gazed at the front cover of Tiger Beat magazine no matter who was on it. Daniel would beat her black and blue if he saw her giving his son that “sissy shit” but she would pay in cash and slip it under Jake’s pillow to find when he came home from football and baseball practice.

Jake grew thick skin in that house. He had to in order to survive. He loved his mom dearly and he wanted to keep her and his little sister as safe as they could. He was sixteen when he threw a punch back at Daniel and knocked him out cold. Jake was six feet tall and pure muscle thanks to being a double sport athlete. Daniel was on the fast track to alcohol induced cirrhosis.

He knocked his father out and then told his sister and mother to pack their bags. They would get out that night.

That same rough attitude got him through the last few years of high school. He had to protect his sister at her new school, his mom from the specter of his father, and himself from the world. By the time he entered the Naval Academy, DADT was well in effect. Being bisexual meant he could still flirt with women and kiss a few of his other female classmates, but there was still this gut-punch feeling he had every time he felt a flush rise to his cheeks when he saw some guy throwing a frisbee out on the quad.

And then he graduated and entered flight school and met Bradley Bradshaw and for fucks sake, they shared a bunkroom. What was he supposed to do? Bradley was charming and funny and his patience drove Jake insane. He thought that there were moments Bradley saw past that veneer of arrogance he held in front of him as a shield.

Jake always had to be the best. If he was the best athlete on the field, then his dad would be proud. If he was the smartest kid in class, his mom would be proud. He had to be the best in order to get the attention of Naval football recruiters. Five years of service in return for free tuition, a load off of his mom’s shoulders. He had to be the best to be a fighter pilot, a job that would take him away from his mom and sister, but wouldn’t put him in a submarine with no way to contact him for a year.

Letting people in was a risk, he learned, and one he tried to avoid at all cost. Letting people in gave them a chance to see the ugly, jagged, imperfect parts of him that he was terrified to let people see. So he pushed people away with his cocky attitude and jabbed words.

Bradley Bradshaw didn’t care because Jake wasn’t speaking when they were making out in their empty bunkroom.

But then the Navy split them up to deployments across the world. They attended Top Gun at various times, occasionally seeing the other at a base for a few days before they were sent off again, but Bradley had grown more serious and less impressed with Jake’s attitude. He knew it was inevitable. He pushed people away so he really couldn’t act surprised when they left.

He was stationed at Lemoore with Phoenix and then down to Miramar to help train some new pilots when the news of the special detachment came. By then, he was quickly sinking into the bright smile of the bartender of the Hard Deck.

And here he was sitting on his couch with Bradley Bradshaw’s head resting in his lap. His fingers ran through the brunet’s curls and he scratched his nails over Bradley’s scalp a few times, eliciting a satisfied hum from the man who was drifting between the veil between sleep and awake. How the fuck had he ended up here?

“Hey,” you said as you emerged from the bedroom. You were tucking one of your black Hard Deck t-shirts into a pair of jean shorts when you looked up and saw Bradley half-asleep on Jake’s lap.

“Oh sorry.” You lowered your voice and winced but Bradley waved you off.

“I wasn’t sleepin’,” he grumbled.

“Okay, that’s a bold faced lie but whatever you say, bear.” You came around the side of the couch and leaned down to run your hand over Bradley’s hair before straightening up and laying a kiss on Jake's cheek.

“I have to leave to help get the bar ready before we open. Penny took Amelia out on a boating trip to north Cali so I’m opening and closing tonight. I figured you two will want to get shitfaced tonight so I can drive you home and we’ll go get your cars tomorrow morning. Sounds good?”

The two men sent you a thumbs up and you grinned. “Okay, perfect. Item two on my list…”

Bradley sat up with a groan, his ribs protesting the move, and Jake slid his hand down to support his back until they were both sitting up and staring at you.

“There’s a chance.” You worried at your bottom lip and sighed. “There’s a chance I could miscarry. The risk dramatically drops after eight weeks and is extremely rare after twelve weeks, but there’s always a possibility.”

Your hands dropped to your stomach where that near invisible bump rested. “Would you be alright if we waited before telling people? I already told Penny, but that’s because I was freaking out and needed someone to screw my head on straight.”

“I told Mav too,” Bradley added. “But I’m okay with not telling anyone else until you think it’s good.”

Jake cleared his throat. “I’d like to tell my mom. I was hoping to have her and Liz come down to visit soon, maybe this month. Would that be okay?”

A smile grew on your face and you reached out to cup his face. “Of course. It would be really nice to meet your mom. I’m sure she’s got a bunch of embarrassing baby photos of you.”

He rolled his eyes but settled a kiss against your wrist as your grin brightened. You leaned down to drop a kiss to each man’s head and then hurried over to the front door to put on your shoes and grab your purse.

“Okay, I’ll see you both tonight. Be good while I’m gone. Jake…” Your gaze flickered between the two men. “It’s not my place to tell you what to do, but I think you should tell him about your dad.”

His heart sank into his stomach at the confused glance on Bradley’s face, but he knew she was right. If they wanted this to work, Jake would have to be honest about the fact that he didn’t know how to be a good father thanks to Daniel Seresin being a raging piece of shit.

As soon as the door shut behind you and the sound of your car drove off, Jake leaned back against the couch and sighed. Bradley kept those warm brown eyes fixed firmly on him and then Rooster surprised him by reaching out and carding his fingers through the soft strands at the base of his neck.

Jake let out a shaky breath and began to tell him.

A few hours later, Jake joined the rest of the Daggers at the Hard Deck. He sat across from Bradley, their feet hooked together and their heads occasionally turning in the direction of the bar where you were focused on making drinks. The team were all intent on getting sloppy, piss-faced, “holy shit we lived” drunk tonight. Warmth suffused his veins, both from the bourbon and from the laughter of the team as they all swapped stories from their earlier days in the Navy.

“What’s everyone doing for their leave?” Halo asked once the conversation started to die down.

Varying responses came, mostly people saying they were going home to see family. Others were staying in California, like Phoenix who would be going back to Lemoore with Sofia, and Bob, who had been practically adopted by the two women and would be joining them for the first half of leave before he went to see his family.

“I’m going to be here for a bit,” Bradley answered. “Enjoy the sun. Weather’s nicer here than in Virginia.”

The others were too drunk already to recognize the heavy gaze Bradley laid upon the man seated before him. Jake grinned into his beer just as you appeared at their table with a tray of shots.

“On the house,” you announced as you laid it down in front of the aviators. “You better have a designated driver planned out or I will be sticking your ass into an Uber and praying you get home.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Bob replied meekly. You grinned to show him you weren’t all that serious and nudged your knee against the interlocked ankles under the table.

Jacob “Hangman” Seresin never expected that he would have the chance to feel like this. He was thirty-three when he let two people into his life and found that flying wasn’t the only adrenaline rush.

Tag list: @mizzzpink @xoxabs88xox​ @dreaminglandsworld​ @khaylin27​ @loveforaugust​ @phoenixssugarbaby​ @atarmychick007​ @mak-32​ @itsmytimetoodream​ @krismdavis​ @emma8895eb​ @startrekfangirl​ @hangmandruigandmav​ @lunamoonbby​ @startrekfangirl2233​

[abeautylives]

Imperfect Moments - Chapter Ten

Series Masterlist

pairing: Jakexfemale!reader

word count: 5.1k this chapter

series summary: You’re in love with your best friend. His twin brother hates you. Or does he?

chapter summary: The seasons change and so does your… relationship?

warnings: 18+ minors stay far away, language, angst, explicit sexual content, oral (f. receiving), fingering, unprotected penetrative sex, light choking and biting

Autumn brought change.

The colors of the leaves changed, green to yellow, to orange and fiery red before they turned a dull brown. Brittle and dry until they lost hold and drifted to the earth.

The days changed, seemingly shorter as each one passed and in turn, the nights changed with them. Endlessly long and dark, they grew colder and lonelier.

The world, as you’d come to know it, changed so rapidly that you were still suffering the effects.

One month. You’d had one solid, blissful whirlwind month to find the balance between your friendship with Josh and your situation with his brother. Days and nights spent with Jake left you feeling like there was something real there. In a month, things had gone from less-than-casual hooking up to something resembling an actual relationship, though neither of you had offered the words to make it official. There was an unspoken devotion behind every shared meal, every soft touch. It was almost perfect, until it changed.

When they left, time seemed to crawl by and when they were home they were working constantly. For the first time since you’d known him, you talked to Josh on the phone more than you did in person, but he always called.

“I’m so proud of you guys. The videos are amazing, I’ve been finding stuff from every show.”

“What do you think of our outfits? We look fantastic, don’t we darling?”

“Oh, absolutely beautiful. Especially Sammy, but the fans eat it up when he loses the jacket. Very hot.” You know Josh is fishing for compliments, because he always is, but you don’t need to fuel his ego.

“I see how it is, when did my brothers become your favorites? I’m truly hurt, devastated.”

“Please, you’ll always be my favorite.” And you think that might be true.

You abandoned the habit of asking when they would be home. During a very late night phone call with Jake, you had asked him and his response had only been a heavy sigh that you couldn’t place the emotion behind. Conversations with him had become tense, almost melancholy but you missed him and couldn’t stop yourself from telling him often. He would brush it off, the way Josh used to. You’d even tried to entice him into phone sex a couple of times but he would claim exhaustion or a lack of privacy and bring the call to an end shortly after.

When they were in town, you didn’t bother asking when they’d be free to see you. Jake would find the time to make an appearance and wind up in your bed panting in your ear about how much he’d missed you, how perfect and good you are, which only left you more confused. They would leave again and it was like none of it had happened, none of it mattered. He'd go back to being short with you… if he managed to call at all.

It seemed like Jake had changed.

“What’s going on with you and Y/N? I thought something was happening there.” Josh is laying in the bed he’d claimed in their hotel room, pretending to read a book and mind his own business until he can’t anymore.

Facing away from him, perched on the edge of his own bed and softly strumming an acoustic guitar, Jake doesn’t look up when he responds. “What are you talking about?”

“It just seemed like you were invested in whatever you were doing with her. And now… not so much?”

Jake stops strumming but doesn’t turn to face his brother. “Did she tell you that? That I’m not invested?” Josh stays quiet until Jake finally looks over his shoulder. “Josh. Did she say that?”

“Not in so many words. When is the last time you talked to her?”

“She texted me earlier today.”

“And did you answer?”

Jake sighs. “Yes.”

“Did you actually have a conversation with her?”

“I guess not, not really.”

“So what’s going on? You’ve spent a lot of time together. You went through all that trouble to make her like you.”

“I didn’t make her like me. I was just… there for her.”

“Hm, yes. If you need reminding, I’m familiar with making the mistake of pushing her away. I practically pushed her into your bed. Is that all it is? You just wanted to sleep with her and you’re over it?”

“No, what? Why are you asking? What did she say?” He turns his body to face Josh fully after leaning forward to prop the guitar against the wall.

“She seems sad, Jake.” Josh watches as his brother's mouth turns down at the corners. “Tell me what’s going on.”

I think I love her. “Nothing. We’re just busy, I can’t spend all my time on the phone with her.”

“That is bullshit and I believe you know it. I saw you with her, shit I overheard a lot of things I hope that you didn’t intend for me to hear. Scarring, life-altering stuff really. It’s not that hard to call her once a day. I’ve managed it…”

Laying back onto the pillows, Jake runs his hands over his face a few times before dropping them to the bed in defeat. “I care about her. A lot.”

“Then what’s the problem?” He’s trying to read his twin’s mind, he’s been able to do it before. Never one to beat around the bush for too long, Josh asks exactly what he’s been wondering for weeks.

“Have you fallen in love with her?”

“I… don’t know.” Lie. “It’s been hard being away from her, when things were getting good.” In truth, none of it has been perfect but it had felt like it was within reach. He knows that he’s the one fucking it up.

“Can I offer you some advice?” When Jake turns his head to look at him, Josh puts on a smug grin. “I think you’re being an idiot. Superbly stupid. Get your shit together, Jacob.”

He texted you the morning they were meant to fly in to let you know when they were getting to the airport, when they were boarding, and how long the flight should be. The amount of detail was surprising, you’d hardly been able to pull any information out of him for the last ten days so you counted on Josh to fill you in.

Me: Sounds good, have a safe flight

Me: Let me know if you have some time this week to hang out

Jake K: The airport is about 16 minutes from your place

Okay?

Jake K: I’ll be there as soon as I can

Jake K: I miss you so fucking much

Okay…

Me: I miss you too Jake

Me: Is everything ok?

Jake K: Not yet, but I think it will be

He stood in the hallway outside your door for just over three minutes, taking deep breaths and questioning most of his recent decisions, before he knocked. None of it mattered because when you answered, everything became undeniably clear.

Standing in the doorway for a long moment before letting him in, you let your eyes bounce around his face before dropping to the bouquet of flowers he’s holding in front of him. Cocking an eyebrow and pursing your lips, your head falls slightly to the side as you meet his eyes.

“What’s all this, Jacob?” He looks sort of nervous, and tired, his hair is pulled into a haphazard low bun and he still looks beautiful.

“Let me in and I might tell you.”

You step aside to let him by and as soon as the door closes behind you, you’re pulled in by one arm and his lips are on yours. Regardless of how things have changed, it feels good to kiss him so you make no moves to break away. As your arms loop around his neck he drops the bouquet to the floor to wrap his around your body and pull you in tighter.

“Jake… the flowers…” He’s already left you breathless, he’s so good at that.

“Fuck the flowers, I’ll buy you a million flowers,” he’s speaking between kisses that are running over your jaw and down your neck, where the evidence of your last meeting has faded. “You can have flowers everyday for the rest of your life.”

Pulling back enough to separate his lips from your skin and look him in the eyes, you search them for an inkling into whatever has caused his sudden affection. You’ve spent weeks aching for even a whisper of it.

“What’s going on with you?”

“I just missed you…” He’s not being completely truthful and you know him well enough now to see it.

“You could’ve said that, at any point in the last, oh I dunno, two weeks? I’ve missed you too ya know. It’s been… hard.” Shaking out of his hold, you scoop the bouquet off the floor and walk past him toward the kitchen while you look them over. They didn’t suffer any damage on the floor and you’re pulling your only vase out of a cabinet when his hands find your hips and his chest is pressed against your back and pushing you into the counter.

“How can I show you how sorry I am?”

Closing your eyes and dropping your head, you release a sigh through your nose. “Jake, I don’t wanna do this.” You feel his body go rigid, but he doesn’t separate from you. “I can’t deal with two different versions of you, this one and the person you’ve turned into when you’re gone. I want to be with you, support you but-“

He uses his hands still on your hips to turn your body and cut you off. “Say it again.”

“I don’t-“

“Say you want this. With me. Because I do, and I know I haven’t done a good job proving that to you lately but I have wanted you for so long, I-“ His breath hitches but you’re listening with rapt attention, begging with your eyes for him to keep talking, to just finally say it. “Just be with me, for real.”

It’s close, you can work with it. “You wanna be my boyfriend, Jake?”

It takes a second but the worry in his eyes is replaced with hope before a small grin appears. He doesn’t answer right away but a hand comes up to cup your face, thumb swiping softly over your bottom lip before he moves in and kisses it softly. “I know you don’t want to hear it but just let me say it.” He waits for you to nod your head for him to continue. “I’m sorry. You’re right. It’s been hard, and I didn’t mean to shut you out. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I… care about you so much. More than you know, really.”

Finally putting your hands on him, you reach up to push the tendrils of hair falling from his bun away from his face. “Is that a ‘yes’?”

His grin stretches into a full smile. “Let me call you mine, sweetheart. I promise you, I’m all in.”

There’s still a chance this could go sideways, you know that. The next time they leave it’ll only be for a few days, not long enough for him to prove to you otherwise. Just like the first time you’d invited him to your place, you take the risk.

“I’m all in too.” It’s barely a whisper but he reacts as if you’ve yelled it from the roof of your building. In a flurry of motion he’s all over you, lips crashed into yours and hands roaming from their soft hold on your face to tangled in the hair at the base of your neck before they’re sliding down your body and landing on your ass. He grips it and pulls your hips into his, slipping his tongue past your lips when they open on a soft moan. It feels needy, desperate, the way he’s licking into your mouth and grinding his growing erection against you, and you’re not surprised by his words when he breaks away.

“Let’s go to bed.”

“No.” He tries to mask the disappointment that flashes across his face, there’s never been any pressure to have sex but right now he thinks he might die if he can’t show you the way he feels. “Right here, bed later. Fuck me like you missed me.”

His hands are already unfastening your jeans and pushing them down over your hips before he drops to the floor and lifts each foot to tug them off of you completely. He shrugs your hands off when you try to pull him back up to you, smooths his own up your legs and sinks his fingertips into the backs of your thighs as he leans in to trail kisses over the fronts. It tickles when he runs his nose over the edge of your panties, but he grips you tighter when your body jumps. When he buries his face between your legs and runs his nose over your covered slit, breathes you in, your knees almost buckle.

Slowly, he’s pulling the cotton and lace past your hips and down your thighs, watching as he uncovers you. Once it’s bared to him, his eyes don’t leave your core and he blindly slips your panties to your ankles. As you kick them away he pulls one of your legs to rest over his shoulder but he doesn’t move in. Instead he turns his face to your thigh and presses a kiss to the plush skin.

“I love these.” His voice is low, deep and quiet and it shoots through your bloodstream. High on it, you need more and when you tell him so, he delivers. Still running his lips over your skin, he murmurs into it. “I love how soft they are, love how they feel wrapped around me.”

“Jake…”

His head shakes softly and he turns it from your leg, you think he’s going to move in and put his mouth on you where you need him, but he breezes over your core and his lips land on your stomach before he looks up at you.

“Call me the other thing.” Always, call me that always.

Looking down at him, on his knees for you with pleading eyes, you know what he’s asking for has nothing to do with this moment. You make a mental note to remember to give it to him when he least expects it.

Right now though, you’d give him anything to get him to keep going. “More, baby. Need more.”

He smiles against you and reaches up to lift the hem of your shirt so he can see more, but you lift it and pull it over your head, giving him access to everything. “So needy, I’d like to take my time with you ya know, this is kind of a big deal.” Confusion on your face, you tilt your head in question. You’ve been in this position before, fucked him countless times all over your apartment. “I’d like the first time I fuck my girlfriend to be memorable.”

Oh, he’s good.

You know that already, he’s always good, always does and says exactly the right thing when he’s with you… but that was really good.

Running a hand through his hair, your fingers meet the elastic securing it at the base of his neck. You use it to pull his head back further, to really look at his face. There’s nothing but pure adoration in his eyes and you hope he can see the same in yours.

“Let’s make it memorable then.” He grins up at you as you tug gently at the hair tie, unraveling the loose knot until it pulls free and his hair falls around his shoulders. Slipping the band around your own wrist, you run your fingers through the strands, fluffing it up. “You look so pretty like this, are you gonna make me feel good, pretty boy?”

He hums at the praise, “Every chance I get.” You feel a fingertip slide up the inside of the thigh that’s not laid over his shoulder. “You’re dripping for me, you know that?”

“Yeah, I feel it. What’s it taste like?” You’re trying to coax him into putting his mouth on you but he surprises you.

“I can confidently tell you that it tastes like heaven.” With that, he slides that finger up and through your wetness, making you whine for more at the contact, but he pulls it away and lifts it to your face. “Try it.”

He’s looking at you expectantly, and though you’ve tasted yourself on his lips and tongue before, you’ve never just… not straight from the source. Your lips open and you lean forward to accept the offer, sucking his finger in and wrapping your tongue around it. When your eyes flutter closed, he pumps it over your tongue a few times before sliding it out, tugging your bottom lip down and dragging it over your chin.

“What do you think?” It’s sort of salty and sweet, you definitely understand the appeal considering the way you feel about the taste of him. You hum your approval and use your hands in his hair to pull him into you, he understands that you’re done waiting. He instantly opens his mouth over you, sucking you in and running the tip of his tongue through you before pulling back with a graphic slurping pop. “So fucking good.”

He’s diving back in before you can respond, a hand firmly gripping the outside of the thigh next to his head. You keep one of yours tangled in his hair and use the other to support yourself on the edge of the counter, moving your hips against his mouth as his tongue dips inside you and his nose is rubbing against your clit. When he focuses his attention there and his lips close over it, you moan for more. Nodding, he swipes two fingers through the slick wetness still seeping from your cunt before burying them inside it.

“Fuck! Just like that babe, just how I like it. Do it…”

He likes babe, simple and effective, the sound of it makes his dick throb. Pumping his fingers into you slowly, he sucks at your clit, rolling it around on his tongue as you grind yourself into it. He does know exactly how you like it, knows which way is your favorite and while he switches things up often, this is what you’ve asked for. You like to maintain a little bit of control over it, and when you cum for him it feels like you’ve reached that goal together. When your hips buck away from the counter, he knows you just need a little more before you’re coming undone for him.

Speeding up the pace of his fingers, he pulls his mouth away to look up at your face but he finds your head thrown back and chest heaving. “Does it feel good, sweetheart?”

“So good, so good, keep going.”

Curling his fingers forward, he feels when your knee threatens to give out. Your grip on the counter is tight and the one in his hair is tighter, you use it to pull him back in. He laps over your clit a couple of times before placing his teeth over it. It’s not a bite, more of a nip, barely grazing over the skin but it draws a low string of curses from deep in your throat. Lapping over it again before switching to flicks of the tip of his tongue, he groans into you as you fuck yourself onto his fingers.

“Ja- Jake, baby I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna- oh!”

You’re pulling his hair at the roots, all of your muscles tensed as your orgasm grips you. He licks at you softly, keeps his fingers moving slowly inside you as your walls clench around them, soaking them. When he feels your hold in his hair loosen, he gently lowers your leg from his shoulder and places a final kiss to your center before pulling his hand away and lifting his lips back to kiss over your stomach. Resting his forehead there for a minute, he takes a grounding breath before speaking.

“I could do that every day until I die. Seriously.”

Still coming down, you let out a breathy laugh. “You’re so dramatic. I think it runs in your family.”

Rising to his feet, he cages you in against the counter with his arms and presses his still fully clothed body into you. “That feel dramatic to you?” His breath skates over the shell of your ear and you feel the shiver ripple down your spine as he rocks his hips against you. “How do you want it?”

“I already told you…” His mouth is moving down your neck, to your shoulder while he brings his hands behind you to unclasp your bra. His fingertips brush over your skin as he slips the straps down your arms and pulls it away to toss it over his shoulder.

“You’re a fool if you can’t feel how badly I missed you. No matter what, I’m gonna fuck you like I missed you.” You’ve undone those pesky two buttons at the bottom of his shirt while he talks, running your hands over the smooth skin of his chest before pushing it off of him and moving to his belt. He lets you work until his jeans are pooled at his ankles and you're palming his dick over his underwear. Placing a hand over yours, he asks again, “How do you want it, love? Tell me.”

Leaning in close, you nibble at his earlobe and run the tip of your tongue over it. “Inside me, now. The rest is dealer's choice.” Leaning back to look at him, you find a devilish glint in his eyes and a smirk to match. “You game?”

He answers by spinning your body around and sliding a hand up between your breasts until it’s wrapped loosely around your throat, shoving his briefs down to his thighs with the other hand. A knee finds its way between your legs and he uses it to spread them, his hold on you keeping you upright when you’re thrown off-balance. When his entire palm cups your pussy, a whine creeps through the hold on your throat and your own palms meet the counter top. Without delicacy, he runs three fingers through your arousal, collecting it and rubbing over the head of his cock. Before you can rush him, tell him to hurry up, he’s between your legs, sliding against your cunt and then buried inside it.

You sigh in unison at the connection. His free hand slides down your spine and his eyes follow it as it reaches your hip and his fingertips dig into the flesh there. He doesn’t pull out to thrust into you right away, a little lost in his own thoughts in the moment. Rocking into your ass, he leans forward to whisper into your ear.

“This pussy is mine, tell me it’s mine.”

The words ignite a flame deep inside you. “You know it is…”

“I said tell me.” He punctuates it with a sharp thrust, knocking your hip bones into the edge of the counter.

“Shit. It’s yours! I’m yours, baby, all yours.” You feel his fingers press into the sides of your neck, heat rushing through you and up to your cheeks. You didn’t know you’d be into it but it’s possessive and perfectly suited to his need to know that you’re his. And it feels so fucking good.

Ready for more, you push your ass back and he takes the hint.

Pumping his hips slowly at first, he keeps speaking directly into your ear between kisses and light bites into your neck. “God damn right you’re mine. No one could fuck you like me, I give my girl exactly what she needs, don’t I?” He’s talking himself into a quicker rhythm, but each stroke lands hard, deep inside you. He’s also talking you into a frenzy, because he’s right, no one has ever been as good as him, no one has ever come close. When you tell him so, a low growl rumbles in his throat and his teeth close over your shoulder. You inhale a gasp at the pain and he releases your skin from his bite and soothes the marks left behind with his lips.

He always leaves evidence of where he’s been, pink and purple reminders that you have to cover with makeup to face the public. You’ve come to savor the moments when they reappear as you wipe the cosmetic disguise away at the end of the day. He’s been marking you as his since day one, and you suppose you really have been all this time.

When his hand leaves your throat, you mourn the loss of it briefly before it’s placed between your shoulder blades and pushing you down, bending you over the counter. The edge of it is digging into your hips and your knees are hitting the cabinets below you but it doesn’t matter because Jake is behind you, running that hand back up past your shoulders and wrapping it in your hair. The change in angle has him sinking even deeper with every thrust and he’s cursing under his breath.

You wish you could see him right now, but you can picture his flushed cheeks and the sweat that’s likely running down his chest by now. You know he’s watching, fixated on where he’s sliding in and out of you, and you’re sure of it when his hand leaves your hip to grip your ass.

“Fuck, so pretty like this…” He can’t see your face either but he’s not looking at it, not talking about it right now. The praise still warms you, his words add fuel to the fire burning low in your belly. No one’s ever been as attentive to every part of you the way he has and you know you wouldn’t be able to live without that kind of desire now that you’ve felt it from him.

“More, tell me more.” He has to be close, the pace he’s set has been relentless and you know his words alone could pull you over the edge with him.

Pulling by your hair, he maneuvers your head until you can look at him over your shoulder from the corner of your eye. “Yeah? My girl needs to know how gorgeous she looks bent over for me?” You nod your head fiercely against his hold in your hair. “I’ve been all over the world, I’ve never seen anything as pretty as you when you’re taking my cock, sweetheart.”

“Jake, fuck, just a little more, I’m almost there.” His fingers release their hold on your ass and his hand is coming back down on you with a sharp crack. Your body jerks away from it but there’s nowhere to go, you know you’ll have bruises across your hips to admire tomorrow.

“Try that again and I’ll give you what you want. Talk sweet to you until you cum and then I’ll fill you up.”

“Baby, please. Please please please.”

Still moving inside you, he bends to drape himself over your back and you feel his skin slip against yours. Both of his hands leave you to find your own pressed flat into the counter, and he laces his fingers through yours until you have a white-knuckled grip on them. A firm placement of his lips to your shoulder, he leaves a kiss there before murmuring into your ear.

“There’s no one on earth as good as you are, I’d do anything to feel you wrapped around me like this every day for the rest of my life.” He can feel it affecting you, your body tightening around him. “Will you let me keep you, love?”

Your answer escapes on sobbing breaths as the flames rip through you.

YES, yes yes yes…

He burns with you, spilling into you as he bites back the words on the tip of his tongue, terrified to ruin the moment but feeling it in every cell. He tells you silently, presses it into your skin with his lips, squeezes it into your grasp with his fingers as your body relaxes beneath his.

Wrapping his arms around you, he pulls you up from the counter and into them, slipping out of you as you stand and turning you to face him. When your eyes meet his, they’re glistening in the light from overhead and he feels his expression fall.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Before he can swipe his thumb over your cheek, your arms are thrown over his shoulders and you’re hugging him tight, your face tucked into the crook of his neck. He doesn’t press you for an answer, just pets his hands over your hair and holds you close until you’re ready. Worry has settled in his chest but he feels it lighten when your lips touch his skin and you sniffle before leaning back to look at him again. The worry melts away completely when he sees the soft smile inching its way across your face. “You okay?”

“So good.” You nod softly as you wipe a stray tear from under your eye. “Jake, that was- I don’t know what the right words are.” Truthfully it was a little dirty, kind of raw and messy, but it was perfect. “Did you feel it?”

He did, he’s felt it every time he’s been inside you, every time he’s stood in this exact spot in your kitchen, every moment of every day for almost three months. He smiles and kisses your forehead.

“Yeah, sweetheart. I felt it.”

“So… what now?” Your eyes are wide with wonder, where do you go from here? What else is going to be said in this moment?

“Now we clean up, order something to eat and watch a movie- my turn to choose.” He laughs at the stunned look on your face before kissing your forehead again. Against it he whispers, “Don’t overthink it.”

Later in the night, sleepy and still full from dinner, he carried you to bed. He left you there to turn off your lights and make sure your door was locked, but he found the flowers he’d brought still laying on the counter. Taking a minute to trim the stems, he hoped they’d be salvaged as he arranged them in the vase you’d pulled out. When he returned, you pulled him in and climbed into his lap. It was slow and gentle, he let you set the pace and he did it perfectly.

When you stretched out next to him and rolled to his chest, he pressed kisses into your hair. When you wished him goodnight, you called him baby.

Just when he least expected it.

Taglist:

@lightmylove-gvf @spicedandicedtea @weneedsomehealing123 @milkgemini @why-ami-on-here @gretavanbitches @twistedmelodies @wildflowerxx-x @dannythedog @blissfulbellss @averagemisfit03 @dharmasdivine @thetroublegetssoloud71 @lucimoo @toxbexannouncedx @dig0930 @maddie-van-fleet @friska101-cg @welllauragvf @gretasimp @objectsinspvce @writingcold @gretavangroupie @sweetybre @gretasgoose

[fountainpenguin]

"I am a lost boy from Neverland, usually hanging out with Peter Pan..." (x)

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New Dog's Life chapter today! ~ 3rd Life series fan-season

Chapter 41 - “Wednesday: Patience Zero”

❤️ Read on AO3

💛 Start from Chapter 1

💚 More Pixels Imperfect fics

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“He’s cheating on me- Ren, this hurts so much. You’re so lucky you were never into me, dude; this hurts so much…”

Ren's restful morning at the phantom squall goes awry when BigB arrives with a Grian-shaped problem in tow. Also, Impulse takes a look inside himself. Something there ain't right…

(First 1,000 words under the cut)

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Renthedog

Location: Phantom squall, Midsouth District, Rose House Pergola

🖤  🌕  🖤

Breakfast at the monthly phantom squall is always a delight, even when they can’t get the full flock in Between. Real icebreaker on full moon nights and the pancakes and milk are free. Plus, you get to watch glittery, shirtless beasts tear into each other, really going at it with their fangs and claws and snapping wings. And since his hands can’t respawn until he’s through a cycle, he’s got Martyn feeding him early morning treats. What could be better?

Poor Impy, Ren thinks anyway, accepting a bite of pancake from Martyn’s fork. Rosejoy’s first spar was meant to be for show, and she won’t get to do a proper fight until they finish making their way up the ranks to her beta. It’ll only be a real match if the guy challenges her legit instead of just for show. That could take hours; it’s the way of the world.

So Rosejoy’s keeping busy by bothering Impulse instead, pestering with comments like “Why aren’t you the captain?” and the more sniffled “I could totally whip Bdubs’ tail, and I’m not just saying that to sound cool.” Impulse looks a weird mix of bugged and flattered. Ren can tell. It’s in the way he bats his tattered demon wings, flaunting even if he can’t play the game.

“Yo, Rosejoy!” Ren calls out. When she twists around, he whispers to Martyn, “Lift the cup, lift the cup,” and Martyn scrambles to do exactly that. He hoists it as though in toast. “You wanna have a go with me? I’m not a phantom, but I think I could take you.”

“Yeah,” Martyn chimes in. “With both hands cycling through the system!”

Rosejoy blinks. “Uh… I’m not into playing with you.”

Nonetheless, Impulse mouths his thanks and takes that moment to slip off. Rosejoy looks around like she can’t believe the massive hunk of junk got away. She hmphs and scampers off on all fours like a squirrel. Well. Problem solved. Ren shrugs, Martyn shrugs too, and they work together so Ren can drink his final sip of milk. Martyn’s chant of “Chug, chug, chug,” drowns in the noise of whatever low-rank fight is happening onstage.

“Ah… Delicious. I wish we had cocoa beans.”

“We do on Dog’s Life,” Martyn says, refilling the cup. Milk sloshes from the pitcher across his wrist; he jumps. His eyes dart up for just a moment before dropping down again. The cup moves towards Ren’s mouth once more. “If you and Joel let me join the flock, I could take care of you all the time.”

“Oh, yes… You know I have fun when you’re around, dude, but you know Joel. He’s…”

“-your captain.”

“One of those, yeah.” Ren takes the sip. Martyn watches in silence, but his tail coils at the tip.

“I hear you… But c’mon, chief- Put in a good word for me and I’ll be at your beck and call. We could take these losers by storm; you know that.”

“You can fight Joel, if you want. That’d be fun to watch.” Ren clears his throat. “For the content.”

Martyn rolls his eyes. The false plant beside him rustles its leaves. “Ren,” someone hiss-whispers, and Ren’s ears prick up. He and Martyn turn as one to the plant. BigB? That sounds just like him; Ren knows the man well after all these years. He sits up, trying to brace his weight on the bandaged stumps of his hands. Ow. Ow.

“BigB, hey! What’s shaking, man?”

“What,” Martyn cuts in, “is that sound?”

Ren hears it too in that moment- the throaty, chirpy call that snaps his code from flame to ice. BigB pokes his head from the leaves, pressing both hands together. He’s not the source of the chirp… and Ren’s ears quiver.

Uh-oh…

“Ren, please… I need your help! It’s Grian. He’s…” BigB struggles with the words a sec, then throws out his arms, gesturing vaguely behind him. “He’s gone total nonverbal on me, dude. I don’t know how to fix this! I’ve never seen him act this way.”

“You flared him?” Ren asks, jumping up. Martyn catches him, stabilizing him, but Ren shuffles to the plant without his help (leaving Martyn to untangle his tail from his chair). BigB’s antennae quiver and he flushes cyan. He parts the plant leaves further, using one cookie-patterned wing to gesture to the hybrid pressed up behind him. At the sight of Ren and Martyn, Grian starts and shifts behind BigB. Still… he butts his head against BigB’s shoulder. His wings, usually scarlet mixed with gold and blue, glitter purple and translucent now like glossy resin. Pretty sparkles…

Ren flicks his eyes back and forth between them. He looks at Martyn. Martyn… gawks. He looks at Grian, looks at Ren, then turns to look at the phantom squall behind them. They’d been sitting off to the side to begin with; most eyes still seem centered on the fight. “Should I get Etho?” he asks. “I think he’s around.”

Get Etho? For a flare? Grian nuzzles into BigB’s arm, hands all over him like he’ll climb on his shoulder if given the chance. He might try, even without golden carrots to buff the touch barrier… It’s a full moon flare and parrots are programmed to do that. BigB turns to catch him and Ren says, “I don’t think there’s anything Etho can do? Doc’s still working on the server core; we just have to wait it out. Get him somewhere safe. Is his room okay?”

“Oh.” Martyn leans forward with more interest now. “Wait- Is this a flare? I’ve never seen one before. I mean, I never got that talk from my parents.”

Yeah, what’s with the flare? Ren turns on BigB again, who throws him a guilty look as blue sparks flush his cheeks. “I’m flattered you came to me, dude, but…” Ren holds up his injured arms. “I need a respawn before I’ll be much help.” He holds back; he holds back. He doesn’t press for details- doesn’t ask why in Between BigB thought this would be a good idea. “Hey, hey,” he says, shuffling forward as the twittery, chirping Grian makes another attempt to clamber into BigB’s arms. “Okay… It’s okay, dude; these things happen. Who’s his contact? Mumbo’s over there.”

“His contact for what?” BigB asks, blinking like his vision’s bleary. It probably is- his and Grian’s pixels crackle and blur around their faces. Grian’s whining now, flapping his wings. He wants to go up. In fact, as Ren watches, Grian backs up several steps and smacks his wings for take-off. Oh, snap. Ren gets between them fast, wrenching BigB around the plant. Flip no! If BigB’s saying No, he’s saying No. Ren snaps his fangs at Grian and settles on a growl. Grian squawks and tucks in his wings… but he doesn’t back away.

“Ren?” Martyn asks. “What… What’s going on? Can I help?”

“He’s flared,” Ren says over his shoulder, but when both Martyn and BigB make their verbal question mark noise back at him, he clarifies as, “He needs supervision. He’s flared and moon-riled. Since it’s a full moon night, he’s tipped into his mob state. He’s not going back to standard unless he’s on a server or the moon starts to wane; he’s running through his idle behaviors right now.” And when that still doesn’t get a response, he finishes with, “He wants uppies.”

❤️ Read on AO3

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

Hey Lea, I hope you are having a great June so far (I cannot believe it’s already June). I was wondering if you have any advice for writing. I’ve always wanted to write but never did for whatever reason. I’m hoping to one day write at least one original fiction book and I thought writing fan fiction might be a good way to practice. I will take any advice you can give (and any advice anyone else is willing to share if you answer this.) If I write fanfics it will most likely be for Marvel since that’s what I read the most and am most comfortable with. I do have a few specific questions but I’m sure I can find answers with a little digging.

first and foremost, write for yourself. write exactly the kind of story you will love and will be a blast for you to write.

read your stories out loud when you edit them. try and make them sound good and flow. also, don't edit late at night when you’re half asleep, do it when your brain is all fresh and all the gears are turning. 

any time you get an idea write it down. make a note on your phone, make lists, you’ll be grateful later.

try and make an outline for your stories instead of just going in blind. and if you’re writing something longer form, then make detailed notes, flesh out as much as you can so that when you write each moment/part/chapter then it’s less daunting and your notes can almost be like a checklist that you can lean on. 

try not to ramble. try to find the best way to say something instead of blabbering on. if something isn’t necessary to the plot, if it doesn’t provide to the story, then consider scrapping that extraness. 

your first draft doesn’t have to be perfect. personally, i find it to be the easiest writing dialogue, so often i start there and then just write as much of everything else that i can, whether that's the final sentence of how something is described or if its just a few notes in parentheses about what's going on.

don’t be afraid to suck. don't let the possibility of that hold you back from learning this skill (or any other for that matter). just take the plunge and enjoy the process. be like a kid again and welcome the imperfections with open arms.

and if you wanna ask me those specific questions you mentioned then feel free to poke me ♡ 

[chaotic-super]

The Sweater Curse

Here's a little SuperCat fic as part of the Mods' collection of example fics for the Supergirl May-hem event!

AO3 Link!

-

Kara closes her eyes, letting the relaxing clicks of her knitting needles lull her into a state of pure relaxation, her muscle memory taking over so she doesn’t have to fight her droopy eyes.

She’s almost halfway through the sweater. A lovely blue that she’s sure Cat will love. She spent hours scouring the internet for a pattern befitting of the Queen of all Media. She spent longer looking for a pattern than she’s going to spend on the damn sweater. After all, she can’t make a sweater for Cat that Cat will call “so last year”. That would be a crime. At least, Cat would declare her a criminal. Though, if it means handcuffs— no.

Letting the rhythm continue until she reaches the end of her row, she looks down at the sweater and sighs before giving up on the slow pace she set. Cat will be home in an hour or so and she doesn’t want to gift her a half-made sweater.

Speeding up and using a moderate amount of her superspeed so she doesn’t accidentally rip her working yarn or the stitches, she speeds her way through it, finishing the front and back in no time and starting on the sleeves right away, already dreading the end where she has to stitch them all together. That’s always her least favourite part. Cat is worth it though.

If there’s one thing Cat loves talking about when they’re having a relaxing day at home, it’s the new pieces she’s managed to snag online or from fashion shows. She’s always hearing the descriptor ‘one-of-a-kind’ thrown around, so Kara figures that if she makes a sweater for Cat, it’ll definitely be a one-of-a-kind piece. She should love it.

Laying out all the pieces in front of her, she looks them over with a careful eye, searching for imperfections so she can fix them before she puts them all together. Upon deciding that it’s good enough for her girlfriend, who hates being called that because it “doesn’t sound like something you should be calling a woman of my age. I’m your partner”, Kara starts the process of finally stitching it together, hating every moment of it but enjoying the feeling of making something for Cat.

Finally, she holds it in her arms, finished and carefully looked over one last time for imperfections. There are none. She’s going to love it. She thinks about wrapping it too. Cat has always loved a gift, but her phone rings, breaking her out of her train of thought.

“Hey, Alex.”

“Hey, will you be free tomorrow for a movie night?”

“Yeah, why? Is something wrong?”

Alex snorts down the line. “Nothing has to be wrong to make me want to spend time with you, you know that.”

“Yeah, but usually you plan a week in advance, not the night before.”

“Ok, I might have eaten all the chips in my apartment and would rather raid yours than go and buy my own.”

Kara flops back on the couch, one way too expensive for flopping onto, and cradles the sweater to her chest. “So the truth comes out, huh? You don’t actually want to see me. You just want to use me for snacks.”

“Hey, I prefer you over the store. Doesn’t that tell you something?”

“Yeah, that you’re an ass.”

Alex cackles down the line, and Kara rolls her eyes, grateful that Alex can’t see her smile. “I’m making you watch a musical with me.”

“Anything but that.”

“Two musicals.”

Alex chuckles. “Whatever you want. Now, what are you doing? I’m bored and Sam doesn’t get home for another two hours. She and Lena are caught up at L-Corp.”

Kara hums. “Yeah, Lena texted me earlier to say that she’s got to cancel brunch on Saturday because of work. It sucks that things are so hectic over there. I’m just waiting for Cat to get home. I made her a sweater because she’s so obsessed with owning one-of-a-kind pieces. I think she’ll like it.”

“You knitted it?”

“Uh-huh. Just like Eliza showed me.”

“Oof.”

Kara frowns, her lips turning down in time with her furrowing brows, crinkle on full display. “What’s wrong?”

“You haven’t heard of the curse?”

That doesn’t help her confusion at all. “What in the actual hell are you talking about? Have you been drinking?”

“No, it’s a real thing a lot of knitters believe in. It’s why Mom never knit anything for Dad other than scarves. Apparently, if you hand-knit a sweater for your partner, it dooms your relationship.”

“Alex!” Kara sits up straight, her eyes wide and her fingers clawing at the material. “Why did you have to tell me that? I can’t give it to her now!”

For a moment, she thinks she can actually hear Alex’s eyes rolling back into her skull. “Don’t be a dummy. It’s just a superstition; she’ll probably love it.”

“Alex.” Kara whines. “I don’t think I can.”

“Don’t be a baby. If your relationship is strong, then a damn sweater won’t get in the way.”

“I hate you for telling me that.”

Alex snorts. “Love you too. I’ll text you tomorrow when I know what time I’ll be coming over.”

“You’re just going to leave me now?”

“Sure am. Later Kid.”

Kara goes to shout at her sister again, but upon looking at the phone, she sees that the call has ended. Alex can be a real ass sometimes.

Standing up, Kara holds the sweater between her hands forlornly. She stomps to the kitchen, her pink, bunny-shaped slippers slapping angrily into the tile. Her foot slams down onto the pedal of the trashcan just as the door opens, revealing Cat wandering in from the hallway outside the penthouse.

“Please tell me we have wine hidden somewhere. We can’t have finished the last one yesterday.”

“No, we have another bottle,” Kara says, quickly hiding the sweater behind her back and taking her foot off the pedal, wincing as the lid slams down with a crash.

Cat eyes her curiously, dropping her purse onto the nearest barstool beside the island before pulling out her phone. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” Kara answers quickly. Too quickly.

Cat stalks over to her, and despite being significantly shorter, Kara backs away from her, ending up in the living room. “What are you hiding?”

“Nothing.” Kara tries to double down.

“What were you doing with the trash?”

“Just…tossing some paper I didn’t need anymore.”

Cat folds her arms over her chest, her lips pressing into a thin line as a single eyebrow raises in challenge. “Do you think I’m a fool?”

“No?”

Cat’s glare intensifies.

“No. Definitely not.” Kara tries to sound more confident.

“What’s behind your back?”

Kara curses inwardly. Of course, it’s easy to see when someone is hiding something behind their back when both hands are holding it there.

“Show me.”

Kara shakes her head.

Cat sighs, unamused. “Kara, I’m not mad. Just show me what it is. If it’s a puppy, I’m going to be madder that you were about to hide it in a trash can than I am about you adopting it.”

Kara perks up at that. “I can get a puppy?”

Cat shakes her head quickly. “That’s not what I said at all.”

“I’m going to go to the shelter tomorrow.”

Running a hand over her brow tiredly, Cat sighs. “Just don’t bring back anything with fleas.”

“Yes!” Kara throws her hands in the air in triumph, noting her mistake immediately as the sweater dangles above her head. “Oh, snap.”

Now, Cat just looks befuddled. “Is that mine or yours?”

“Uh…”

“Why were you throwing it out?”

“Uh…”

“Kara.” Cat deadpans, striding over to her and taking it from her hands. “It looks brand new.”

Kara goes to take it back, but Cat just steps away from her and bats her hands away. “Where’s the tag?”

“There isn’t one.” Kara offers up nervously, her hands falling to her waist, wringing nervously. “I made it.”

“What?” Cat looks a little impressed, warming Kara’s heart, but she can’t let her have it.

“I was just tossing it out.”

Cat holds it to her chest, protecting it. “Why?”

“I was making it for you but I didn’t know about the curse. You can’t have it now.”

Cat’s shoulders sag, and she heads for the kitchen. “I need wine for this, I can already tell. Explain it to me.”

“Alex told me that there’s a curse that means that you can’t knit a sweater for your partner or else your relationship is doomed, so you can’t have it. I didn’t know when I made it.”

Cat throws the sweater over her shoulder. “Well, I’m not throwing it out. That’s a dumb curse and I’d like to see the statistics of relationship breakdown over mittens rather than sweaters.”

Kara looks nervous, sitting down on a stool, her knees bouncing rapidly. “What if it comes true?”

“Then we can tell everyone that our perfectly stable and loving relationship has ended over a sweater, not you adopting a puppy behind my back.”

“It won’t be behind your back now.” Kara points out.

“So we won’t break up. Now be a dear and find me that wine.” Cat pulls her glasses off her face and drops them onto the counter. “I just want to have dinner, a couple of glasses of wine and a bubble bath with my partner before trying on this very comfortable-looking sweater. Can we do that and agree that it’s just a terrible superstition?

Kara doesn’t look convinced. “I don’t know.”

“Kara, we always dump my shopping bags on the counter, and you’re not meant to put new shoes on the counter. Nothing bad has ever happened from that. What makes you think that we’ll be affected by this one?”

Kara’s eyes widen. “That’s a real thing?”

Cat ignores the question. “Kara, darling. You’re an alien. What makes you think Earth superstitions would even have an effect on you anyway.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Kara makes her mind up. “Can you try it on?”

Cat smiles. “You sure?”

Kara nods. “I want to see if I got the size right.”

Slipping off her jacket, Cat pulls the sweater over her head before casually strolling across the room to the nearest mirror.

“I love it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Cat smiles softly, genuinely surprised that it’s not a lie. “It’s one-of-a-kind and definitely next year’s fashion.”

Kara’s grin is so wide and dopey that Cat can’t help but turn around, grab her by the collar and pull her down into a kiss.

“Thank you.”

Check out the Supergirl May-hem event, open for writers, artists and betas who want to collaborate and create art for any WLW ship in the Supergirl fandom! Sign-ups open Dec 1st!

[thornedlamb]

cont. || @fiendishfinesse

Raphael’s fingers drifted through Sirius’s hair in a gentle rhythm, a thoughtful smile touching his lips as he looked down at the Tiefling. “For me, it’s about control. Having everything exactly as I want it, free of interruptions or imperfections. Power without restraint. Order without chaos.” he replied, voice calm and deliberate.

His gaze held a hint of curiosity as he studied Sirius. “But it seems your idea of perfection is different—something quieter, maybe even an end to all this. Would silence and finality truly satisfy you, or is there more to what you’re looking for?”

Promises of power, or freedom from the tadpole, could never rival the simple pleasure of having his head scratched. Like a panther—or some even deadlier predator—he seemed to forget his own nature. In that moment, he became a mere house cat, akin to a tiger curling snugly into a box. His tail swayed lazily from side to side; if he could purr, surely he would.

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎❝So perfection is the lack of imperfection? ” he asked, a smirk tugging at his lips as he glanced up at the devil. But the fleeting jest passed, and he closed his eyes again, focusing on the motion in his snowy hair, and thinking further about that answer.

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎❝ Wouldn’t that be dull? ” he ventured, his tone light yet probing. ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎❝ Control over everything would leave no room for surprises or excitement, wouldn’t it? ” He saw no reason to keep his questions to himself. Raphael could read him as nearly as easily as the tadpole, or whatever held the original claim on Sirius’ soul.

The godling, disguised as a tiefling, turned his head towards the hand that was scratching him so pleasantly. And with a mischievous spark he bites, gently, just a nibble into the firm flesh made of thumb muscles. A practical presentation of the excitement of not knowing everything. Just to nuzzle his face into the palm a moment later.

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎❝ Mhm... non-existence, ” he murmured, voice dreamy. ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎❝ If one dies, it’s just the next form of being. The realm of the Gods, pulled to the hells, the wall of the faithless. I simply want nothing... ” A wistful sigh escaped him, his eyes briefly closing. Yet, as his thoughts wandered again, darkness gave way to something still sinister but less bleak. ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎❝ Buuut... I guess head scratches come pretty close to perfection, too. The silence you bring... And, since I’m feeling bold, let me say this: I doubt anyone who isn’t a little messed up really strives for perfection—not in our ways, at least. I suspect satisfaction lies elsewhere. Maybe it’s just an endless chase after some shimmering illusion...”

[eahgalpal3]

An Imperfect Apple Part 3 🍏

By Madeline Coral

Male Narrator: Saturday night finally came to Ever After!

Female Narrator: And the students all were abuzz about their hexciting plans to relax and play!

Male Narrator: Some even have plans to see a new movie at the MultiHex!

Female Narrator: Well, all except for Apple White who was hard at work! She had finally gotten 4 more pictures for her My Chapter and was now studying hard for her next test for her Chem myth Stry Class!

“Ok, I think I got everything!” Raven said as she checked her basket for her date with Dexter Charming. “Are you sure you don’t need help studying, Apple?”

“I’m sure! Enjoy your date with Dexter!” Apple reassured Raven.

“I’ll try but, I still feel bad that you are wasting this evening with studying when you’ve studied enough.”

“Well, like my mom said, ‘A White must have perfect grades!’”

“Well, if you ever need a break, feel free to take one, ok?”

“Ok!”

Soon Raven went out the door and, on her way, to meet Dexter in the Enchanted Forest for a nice picnic upon the swan lakes.

Once Apple saw that the coast was clear suddenly, she closed the drapes of her window.

Female Narrator: Wait! What?

Male Narrator: Oh, this is getting good!

Apple then got out her makeup, wig and even her glasses. She looked at herself in the mirror then took a deep breath.

“Ok, let’s do this!” She said to herself with confidence.

Apple soon touched up her make up and added a few altercations to her usual look. She added a redder shade of lipstick to her lips, used a pencil to match the color of her wig, and she even gave herself a mole. Once she had finished her makeup, she placed then styled her wig until it looked nice. Finally, she changed into dark red shirt with a black skirt and black boots. To finish her new look, Apple finally placed her glasses on her then saw how different she looked in the mirror.

“Well, this is new!” She said to herself.

Apple soon gets out a dark brown saddle bag she got from a thrift store to finish the look. There she put some of her belongings in it and proceeded to head to the door to go outside of the room.

Female Narrator: What does she think she’s doing?!

Male Narrator: Maybe this royal is becoming a rebel!

She took a deep breath. But then remembered what her mom said.

“We Whites must look perfect in all things!” and even “ Glasses are for rooms not for classes!”

She shook her head to clear her thoughts then finally opened the door slightly. She looked around to see if the coast was clear and exited out of their dorm into the empty hallway.

Female Narrator: I can’t believe she’s doing this!

Male Narrator: Now this is Hexciting!

Apple soon was heading out of the school when suddenly, she ran into one of the three little pigs.

“Opps sorry!” She said.

The pig glared at her as if he had recognized her which made Apple sweat. Until the little pig finally said

“No worries, lady!” then left Apple standing there alone.

At that moment Apple was surprised! The little pig didn’t recognize her or fainted or try to give her flowers or anything like he and the other princes do!

Apple knew she had to test this out! So, she decided to go into the Village of Book End!

As Apple walked through the village, all the boys didn’t notice her at all! Sure, some would wave at her or flirt a little but, usually when she was her normal Apple self, every guy would be on their knees to see Apple! But this time, however, she was treated like any other girl!

Apple knew she had to take advantage to this new experience and decided to do something she had never had the courage to do before!

“Hello, may I help you miss?” the shop keeper asked.

“Where are your Stellar Lunar Adventure Comics?” Apple Asked.

The Comic shop owner soon showed Apple all the Stellar Lunar Comics! Her heart leaped with joy as she took the ones she would love to read and or catch up on! She even purchased a tee shirt that said “ Stellar Rockets to the Sky!”

After she paid, in cash of course, Apple felt so alive that she decided to look around at even more places! There she watched street performers, listened to rock music and even got to dance with some of the performers! Apple soon noticed the time and began to walk toward the MultiHex for the movie! As she did so Apple then began to read her comic. As she read it suddenly, she accidentally ran into someone in front of her!

Apple quickly checked if her wig and glasses were still on then said.

“Oh dear, I am so sorry!”

To her shock, she had ran into Poppy O’ Hair!

Male and Female Narrator: Oh No!

“Oh No!” Apple said.

“It’s ok! Accidents happen!” Said Poppy picking herself up. She then reached out a hand, unbeknownst to her, Apple.

Poppy then looked at Apple in a strange way the stated.

“Do I know you from somewhere?”

Male Narrator: What will the fairest one of all do now?

Female Narrator: Will her secret be revealed?!