#maya’s soft recs

[cookiesandwhimsy]

I love this so much <3

jadey you write poly marauders in such a special way it feels so realistic i love it so much 🥹 how do you think it would go if reader and one of them get into a fight/argument? like how would it affect the overall dynamic? (if this inspires anything pls go for it 💕💕💕)

thank you for requesting! fem

Remus lays with his head on your shoulder, but he’s not happy about it. James and Sirius aren’t subtle. They’d forced the two of you together and yes, Remus has missed you, but he doesn’t want to speak to you and he’s sure you’re feeling the same. 

You have put your hand atop his, not holding but resting there. He might be forgiven. He hopes he’s forgiven, but he doesn’t forgive you, so. 

James has made Remus’ favourite popcorn, freshly popped and doused in butter and caramel he made himself with sugar over the hob. Remus takes great grateful handfuls, given the added benefit of James’ smug smiling. Each piece he eats is like James’ receiving a job well done, and Potter’s can’t help but preen. 

Sirius sneaks bits of it over you. You don’t eat any, pointedly, your leg on Sirius’ knee and your foot wagging constantly. Restless. Annoyed. 

“Will you be angry with each other forever?” Sirius asks. 

“Sirius.”  

“What? I’m just asking.” 

“You’re being abrupt,” James says. 

Remus sighs until they both stop talking. He doesn’t know how long you’ll be angry with one another. For him it seems to come and go, and it doesn’t always help that James is neutral about it while Sirius’ loudly complains that you’re not yet over it after a frosty weekend. He wishes one of them would’ve backed him up, but then, he can’t imagine how that would feel for you. It’s not like he wants you to be upset. It’s just an unfortunate consequence of the whole thing. 

You’d cried when you argued but you’d been angry, too, quipping at him with a sharp tongue, not afraid to say what you’d felt, just overwhelmed enough to come to tears. They weren’t, you know, devastated tears or anything, but Remus had felt a pit open where his stomach was supposed to be as Sirius (Sirius, and not James, which felt important at the time) curled his arm around you and encouraged you to take a breather. 

James had stayed, giving Remus a good hug as he’d murmured, “That got too heated, huh? You okay?” 

Remus gets weird about James. About all of you, but James had been his first crush, so sometimes he feels rather daunted in the face of his affection. James likes that he can make Remus blush, but nobody’s acted very fond these last few days. It’s weird. It’s all off. The love is still there, but it’s like everyone’s afraid of showing it. 

You argued about something Remus said, and you misunderstood, and then something you said and Remus understood very well. Never the end of the world, but Remus is stubborn. He shouldn’t be. 

Remus turns his hand slowly under yours. To his relief, you let him do it, sliding your fingers between his. 

He lifts his head a touch. You don’t look at him. Sirius grins from the other side of you, and Remus ignores him. 

You slip further down into the sofa, Remus going with you, the whole group of you tired from a weekend on eggshells. 

Having seemed rather far away for the afternoon, you begin to relax. You force Remus’ head up to tuck yourself into his neck. When the movie ramps into a loud scene of gunshots and high speed car chase, you lift your lips to his ear and say, “I’m sorry, Lupin, but don’t you ever speak to me like that again.” 

He’d bristle if you didn’t sound teasing. Remus squeezes your hand, turns to see your face, and whispers back. “I’ll talk to you any way I like.” You huff a laugh. He’s so pleased to see a smile on your face that his resentment drains away completely. “I’m sorry, too,” he says. 

You nod at him. You accept his apology as he’d taken yours. An hour of being sat arm to arm and a half hour of hand-holding has reminded you both how much you really, really like the other. 

“Can we kiss and make up?” James asks. 

“I think that’s usually saved for the arguing parties,” Remus says. 

“We can argue, if you like,” you tell James. 

“Shall we?” James asks. 

Sirius argues with Remus once a week at least —nothing serious— and he knows the potency of a rough makeup kiss, sending him a knowing, inviting smile. “We can argue, Moony,” he says. 

Remus hugs you with one arm. “I’ve had enough arguing. I’m never doing it again.” 

“Good. I’m very tired, playing peacekeeper and all,” James says, slouching away from everyone. “Exhausted, even.” 

“What shall we do to make it up for him?” Remus asks you, having quickly descended into sickly sweetness, a murmur pressed into your cheek. 

“What does he want?” 

“What do you want, James?” 

James sits up. “Well, it wasn’t just me, you know. Sirius has been comic relief two days running. He’s not usually this funny otherwise.” 

“I resent that.” 

“Luckily for you both, there’s two of us,” Remus says.

You laugh, because you know what Sirius will say before he says it. “No!” you say, lifting a foot to kick at his leg. 

“Don’t be so rude,” Sirius says, grabbing you by the ankle. 

James decides you’ll celebrate with a takeaway and Sirius decides he’ll pick which one for being so diligently well-behaved this weekend, leaving you and Remus alone for the first time all day. Things feel a bit more raw, less soothed, but not bad. Remus peels away from you to look at you properly. 

“You okay?” you ask. 

“I was about to ask you the same thing.” 

“I’m okay if you are.” 

Remus taps your under the jaw, a little to the left, encouraging you to turn your head. He kisses you on the cheek. 

In the kitchen, James and Sirius giggle like school kids. Somebody gets a good whack in with a tea towel, and the other shrieks. “You thing!” Sirius says. 

Remus feels your side shake with laughter.

[forever-will-last]

hellooo do you have recommendations for cadina fics? I love "a thousand pictures in my mind" and I'm also reading "mirror me back" and "get in, loser" but I want to start reading more!

I DO!!! I made a post about this a little while ago so I'm just gonna borrow that same list again I made. I admittedly haven't been reading too much lately (I have been working on the Cadina Week content NONSTOP since the last update of a thousand pics basically) but here is my list!!! Both get in loser and mirror me back are actually on it already but I'm just going to send the list as is!!!

cadina fic recs (first, some ones from my friends, and then many others i heavily recommend, in no particular order):

Get in, Loser! We're going... to fall in love? - SUPER cute slow burn made by the incredible amazing talented stunning @16sydd16. Genuinely one of my favorite Cadina fics of all time.

ANYTHING by the Cadina Captain herself, Chisamaya. Maya's been holding down the Cadina fort for YEARS and has 13 INCREDIBLE Cadina fics on her AO3. She's also on Tumblr @chisamayas and posts super cute fanart of Mean Girls and Cadina all the time! My personal favorite fic of hers is Collared (very smutty pet play fic) and I will live and die a Collared stan.

can i come and sweep you off your feet? - super adorable (and angsty at some points, especially for poor regina) fame AU by my very talented friend ninesixtheenths / @girlkisser-wieners on Tumblr! i absolutely also recommend her rugby fic, which is rejanis but is 10/10, as well as her regret indie band au fic.

(mean girls) series by anonymous - this is from another friend of mine who posts these anonymously instead of tying them to her account. there are SO MANY good ones in here including a soulmates au, a superhero au, and some GREAT character studies of both regina and cady. there are a few rejanis fics in this series too but they're all phenomenal.

okay onto fics that aren't from my friends but i heavily recommend, in no particular order:

Mirror Me Back - okay i know i said no particular order but this one's a lie. if you haven't read MMB yet, stop what you're doing and read it right now. it's very smut heavy, however, this is genuinely the fic that got me into writing for this fandom and it is one of the best fics i've ever read across any fandom. every day i perform rituals for an update /j

On Predators and Pack Dynamics - omegaverse fic that is genuinely incredible. obviously very smut heavy but i love the characterization of them here.

if i could tell her (how she's everything to me) - role reversal & arts high school AU from 2020 where cady is the popular one and regina is a little socially awkward. very cute, very sweet, very fun.

Pretty Girls - mean girls 2024 rewrite where cady and regina were anonymous pen pals before cady moved to evanston. really loved this one!! one of the first i read in the tag.

To You, I Can Admit That I'm Just Too Soft for All of It - grad school au that i absolutely LOVE. the chapters are unordered snippets but they are so cute and fun. the author also does some social media stuff with it, i believe on tumblr, so it's a cute little tie in!!

you would find her in a polaroid picture - SUPER good college au with gymnast!regina!! genuinely recommend anything this author writes tbh i adore their stuff!!

i choose you and me, religiously - once again recommending anything this author writes as well. SO talented. this one is a slow burn idiots in love au and it's just. chef's kiss. muah. i love it.

[contritecactite]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Spread the self-love ❤

Thank you for the ask, Quoth! I think you'd be pleased to know that I had trouble narrowing things down (they're all my favorites today), but I got there eventually.

1. Promised Me a Feeling

Ace Attorney, T, 2.8k, klapollo

Post-AA4, Edgeworth accidentally invites himself to dinner with Klavier and Apollo. It's painfully awkward, but it helps him find the courage to take the next step.

I took a huge internet break years ago (my own 7yg hehe) and only returned to fandom in 2021. "Promised Me a Feeling" was the first time I felt genuinely confident in my writing again, so it holds a special place in my heart.

2. Third Time Charmed

Ace Attorney, G, 3k, Maya

Maya visits the building for the "first time" three separate times. Whether it's housing Fey & Co. Law Offices, Wright & Co. Law Offices, or the Wright Anything Agency, it always manages to be just the opposite of what she's come to expect.

In a lot of ways, this was a celebration of being part of a fandom in which I'm "allowed" to enjoy female characters and to place value on non-romantic relationships. Those were two quick ways out the door in my 2008-2012 spaces.

3. And a Borrowed Car

Good Omens, T, 3.6k, A/C (ambiguous)

Aziraphale falls asleep in the stolen Jeep, Crowley remembers that his flat could use some cleaning, and they end up sharing a very nice room somewhere and talking about things they've lost and time they've wasted. It turns out all right in the end.

An attempt to integrate some details from s1&2 into book canon. Casual intimacy, only one bed (because it's what they wanted), soft with an aroma of their inherent angst. Feels like some of my best characterization, but I could be wrong.

4. Anthems of Joy

Ace Attorney, T, 17k, FranMaya

When Maya and Franziska's intention to get married is made public, they get railroaded into using their wedding to generate good press for the district prosecutors' office. Over the next few months, Franziska finds that her relationship with Maya isn't the only one that gets strengthened in the pursuit of happiness. Also, I wrote what feels like half a Sesame Street episode for this. You're welcome/I'm sorry.

A weirdly personal fic that was a long time in the making. I don't know what I can say about it concisely except that I hope someday I can let go of as many hangups as Franziska.

5. Competitive Inhibition

Good Omens, M, 15k, A/C through the ages

In biochemistry: a phenomenon in which a molecule is blocked from binding to an enzyme by another molecule with a similar structure—like a demon preventing an angel from binding completely to Heaven or, more to the point, doubt and fear keeping an angel from wholly welcoming a bond with a demon. Or: The ups and downs of sharing 6000 years of life on Earth with an angel who wants desperately to be doing Good.

Written for a gift exchange, this ended up being a long series of vignettes that alternate between good times and bad times (with a hopeful ending). I even did some (very) cursory historical research! I'm very proud of it despite it apparently not having very broad appeal.

[cookiesandwhimsy]

🥺 this was so soft and precious like ahhh just my heart.

(I’m a lil bit of a hoe but actually just started to date and like i really felt this 🙈 like ahh the trepidation and the need for reassurance for every lil thing)

This was just perfect and i cant wait to dig in to the series

do you believe me now?

in which fem!reader is insecure around spencer until she finally asks him to take matters into his own hands (literally)

series masterlist

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: inexperienced reader, fingering, softdom!spencer my sweet sweet beloved angel, sub reader, praise, you know he talks you through it, brief mention of drinking wine, i think that's it a/n: i hope u guys like this ! slightly different dynamic than my other stuff maybe but let me know what u think!! i love feedback and i love YOU!!!

“You’re so pretty.”

It’s the first thing Spencer has said since you two landed on his couch, exhausted from one of Rossi’s extravagant soirées. It was your first of many, if Spencer’s entire team is to be believed. More nights featuring Italian food and wine you could never afford don’t sound half bad—but for now you’re drained. You barely had the energy to kick off your heels and topple into Spencer’s lap five minutes ago. The silk dress still pools over his knees and your hair still falls in curls around your face. He brushes one aside as he continues. 

“I mean—you always look beautiful. But I’ve never seen you all done up. You’re obscenely gorgeous.”

You groan awkwardly, burying your face in Spencer’s collar as your face heats. Taking compliments has never been your strong suit, especially from someone who you perceive to be so out of your league. The relationship you have with Spencer is relatively new, and sometimes you worry delicate; like one slip-up revealing the real you and he’ll go running. So far, though, he seems hellbent on proving you wrong. 

His hand finds the bare skin of your arm, passing up and down gently. “Why don’t you believe me?”

“…I do.”

It’s unconvincing. Spencer scoffs. 

“No, you don’t. You never believe me when I compliment you.”

The cadence of his voice is light enough, but it’s evident that there’s some genuine frustration there, lurking just under the surface. 

Your head lolls over his shoulder and he angles his neck to look down at you. Hair falls over his eyes, and you’d fix it if he didn’t look so damn perfect. Everything about him looks intentional, like he was designed by someone who took great pride in their work. Not at all like you—a collage of features and spare parts you guess whatever force created you had lying around. Nothing about you feels on purpose. But that’s a hard thing to explain.

“I’m sorry. I know it’s impolite. It just feels disingenuous to accept compliments like that.”

Goosebumps arise on your arm where he touches you.

“You being polite isn’t what I’m concerned about. I just wish I could make you understand that I mean it when I compliment you. You’d know if I didn’t. I’m a terrible liar.”

That earns a giggle from you. Your boyfriend smiles, sparkling eyes darting over your face like he’s trying to bottle the sound, the memory—and you realize he probably is. What a terrifying thought. You look away, abashed once more. 

“I’m a woman, Spencer. I’m not allowed to like myself. That’s the whole thing with Eve and the snake and the apple and whatever. Eternal inescapable shame.”

“Are you trying to justify your self-loathing by making it biblical? You know I’m the last person that would work on, right? Both as an agnostic-leaning-athiest and someone who thinks you’re beautiful and wonderful.”

Another groan claws its way from your throat as you slide down in embarrassment. 

“You’re killing me here, Spencer.”

“What can I do to do to make you believe me?” he murmurs, carefully brushing tangles from your hair as you now rest practically prone across his lap. The ceiling light stretches behind him, haloing him in a soft glowing crown and making everything a bit more hazy and tolerable. 

“It’s not your fight.” It’s meant to be playfully dramatic, but it hangs from your lips with a painful amount of earnestness. 

“If it’s yours, it’s mine. That’s kind of the whole point of a relationship, right? Being a team?”

His fingers are nimble and warm between yours as you interlace them, steepling and bumping them together as you speak. 

“Well, if you know so much, why are you asking me? It sounds like you know exactly what to do to make me magically love myself.”

A dangerous twitch plays at the corner of his lips as he gazes sleepily down at you. 

“Oh, I have a few ideas. But I’m asking what you’d be comfortable with.”

“Whoa!” you blurt, giggling self-consciously, covering your face with your (and inadvertently one of his) hands. “Where did that come from?”

He smiles at your response to his mildly suggestive comment. “I lose my filter when I'm tired. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” 

You sigh gustily, dragging his hand down to fall over your collarbones. His fingers twitch over the delicate skin, like he’d graze it if your hand wasn’t weighing his down. 

“No, no, you didn’t make me uncomfortable, you just… surprised me. I’m really bad at talking about this kind of thing.”

“Sex?”

You yelp, slinging your arm over your face and hiding in the crook of your elbow. “AH! Don’t say it!” 

He laughs again, a little less reserved this time. 

“What? You can’t even listen to me say the word?”

“No! Too scary!”

Eventually you peek out from under your arm to find Spencer still watching you. The humor has faded from his eyes and been replaced by a kind of serene calm. He brushes a lock of hair from your shoulder. 

“Come here,” he says—a request more than a demand. With some wriggling and a bit of help, you manage to reorient yourself into a sitting position across his lap once more. His touch is warm even through the fabric of your dress when he kisses you, hand sliding over your waist before moving to trace your jaw and ending up on the back of your neck, urging you closer ever so slightly. You kiss him back without hesitation or restraint, as you delight in doing when he gives you the opportunity. What you may lack in experience and refinement, you make up for with affection and enthusiasm. He pulls away after a minute, much to your dismay, and brushes his thumb over your lips. For the first time, you think you see a hint of worry in his eyes. Guilt claws at your heart when he quietly asks, “you’re not scared of me, are you?”

“No!” You assure quickly, looping your arms around his neck. “No, it’s not you. You’re perfect and I’m sure you really mean all of the nice things you say. But I just… sometimes I worry I’ll scare you away once you realize I’m not as pretty or… good as you thought.”

“That’s impossible.”

Once more you let your head fall onto his shoulder. “You don’t know that.” 

His hand begins running up and down your back, soothing your sympathetic nervous system in a way that all the deep breaths in the world never could. 

“I know that I really, really like you. And there’s not one part of you that I don’t find genuinely beautiful. I can’t imagine not feeling that way about you.” Your eyes flutter shut and you hum against him—a non-answer, but he doesn’t push it. Minutes go by quietly, ticking later into the night as he continues mindlessly rubbing your back and watching you breathe. “Do you want me to take you home?” He finally asks after a long while. Again, you don’t respond. He smiles. “I know you’re awake.”

The corner of your lip twitches as you attempt to suppress a grin. Spencer sighs. 

“I guess if you’re already asleep you’ll just have to stay here. But it would be convenient if you’d sleepwalk to my bed so that I don’t have to carry you.”

When you begin stirring and sitting up (one eye cracked to navigate) he laughs, hands on your waist. “Would you look at that. Who knew she would be so suggestible in non-REM?” You snort as you push yourself to a standing position using Spencer’s shoulders to support yourself, and ruining the whole act. He smiles up at you like you’re something divine and lets his hands trail over your hips. 

“I sleep with my eyes open.”

“Do you often have coherent conversations in your sleep, too?”

You shrug. “I’m full of surprises.”

“I’m sure you are,” he agrees, finally standing himself. “I’m assuming you don’t want to sleep in your dress?”

“I have shorts on underneath I can wear, but a shirt would be helpful.”

“Then we’ll get you a shirt.”

———————————————

Ten minutes later you’re in Spencer’s bathroom, wearing your shorts and one of his sweatshirts (you cannot imagine Spencer in a hoodie), and wiping black sludge from your eyes with makeup remover he claims was left by a friend after a particularly festive Halloween party. Hopefully he’s telling the truth—you can think of more dubious potential origins of the eye-makeup remover in his bathroom. No toothbrush—you use your finger and a generous amount of toothpaste until the red wine stains fade. 

Spencer is fixing the pillows when you exit the bathroom. You hold up your hands which are completely obscured and then some by the thick fabric of his sweatshirt. 

“Fits like a dream,” you say. A smile tugs at his lips as he finishes his task, before raising his eyes to you. The smile promptly fades and it’s like the sun disappearing behind an oppressive gray cloud. In an instant your stomach curdles and you feel like crawling out of your skin. 

“…what?” you mumble, absolutely terrified that the thing he’d said was impossible just minutes ago has already happened. Without makeup, without a fancy dress, you’re just you, and maybe that’s not good enough.

“Uh…” He blinks, as if he’s buffering for a moment, before snapping back into action, and notably looking away from you. “It’s—it’s nothing. Do you, um—here, I tried to make it—“

“Stop. Just tell me what that was. You got all weird.”

Another pause—he looks back up at you reluctantly with a sigh. 

“I did not get all weird.”

“Yes, you did. You’re still being weird. It’s freaking me out.”

He’s utterly unreadable, which drives you fucking insane, when he eventually says, “come here.” This time, you think with a chill as you shuffle on your knees across the bed to sit in front of him, it really sounds like a demand. Spencer grabs your face in his hands, studying you intently. “I know you think I’ve finally decided you’re hideously deformed, but it’s actually just the opposite. I’m trying to figure out how to keep things polite for you.”

Realization dawns on you and the swarm of new butterflies in your stomach. The usual molten gold of his irises has been encroached upon, masked by blown pupils. Your face gets hot and your voice caves when you speak. 

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” he agrees quietly. “Do you believe me now?”

And to his credit, you really do. The hot skin, the vibrating cells in every fiber of your being, the racing heart—your body knows he means it. Part of you, the more confident, more desirous part, drags you closer to him, ghosts your lips over his. He chuckles. 

“Now you’re getting brave?”

“Am I not allowed to kiss you?” you whisper, draping your arms over his shoulders. 

“You’re allowed to do whatever you want.”

The words make you shiver—the lowered, gravelly tone of his voice you’ve never heard before snaps your resolve and you lean into him, connecting your lips with a deep urgency. Spencer inhales sharply, hands wandering to your waist and bearing down firmly as you press against him. When you lean back, he follows you, insists without saying a word that you don’t stop kissing him. It sends a thrill down your spine and between your legs, which both gives you pause and eggs you on. In the end, after a very brief internal struggle, curiosity and desire win. You drop to the bed and drag him down with you—he, your willing follower, blindly searches for purchase on the plush comforter. Now he’s on top of you, legs slotted together so that his thigh is temptingly close to your core. Too shy to actually do what you want to do, you clamp your thighs around his and tilt your hips, desperate for friction. He exhales heavily, slowly pulling his lips from yours like it’s the last thing he wants to do. Fingers dig into the flesh of your hip, not enough to ache but enough to draw your attention to your movements. 

“What are you doing?” he asks, firmly, but not like you’re in trouble—it’s a probing question. He’s trying to figure out if you’re aware of the way you’re nearly riding his leg. 

“I don’t know,” you admit breathlessly. 

“You just told me you couldn’t even listen to me say the word sex,” Spencer reminds you. “You said it was too scary.”

A frustrated whine seems to catch him by surprise, and he laughs. 

“That was a long time ago. I’ve matured since then.”

“Is that what happened?” he teases. 

“Honestly, I’m just really turned on right now, please—" you cut yourself off, crashing your lips into his once more. And he almost relents. 

Almost. 

“Slow down.”

He ceases kissing you for a second time and you’re starting to really get annoyed. 

“What?” you groan. “I thought you wanted this.”

His thumbs brush over the apples of your cheeks, demanding your attention. 

“I want you. In every sense of the word. If you make a bad choice tonight and it means you don’t like me anymore tomorrow, that is the opposite of what I want. I’m not saying no. I’m just asking you to think about it for a second.”

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes and attempting to steady your mind and see beyond the thick fog of lust. What you find is a (mildly surprising) complete lack of fear. You’re not scared, like you thought you’d be; you feel utterly safe underneath him, with his hands on you and his heartbeat against your chest. This is a kind of intimacy you want to have with him. 

Your eyes open to reveal his, close enough you can see the tiny flecks of green. And so much warmth. Everything about him is warm. 

“This is what I want,” you assert. “I promise.”

His gaze flits between yours for a moment, pulling the truth from your soul like he might be able to find an imperfection there. But you mean it—and he seems satisfied. He trusts you, like you trust him. 

“Okay.”

A sigh of relief never quite finds completion before he’s kissing you again. Immediately the fire is stoked once more, the heat between your legs getting warmer when he experimentally pushes his thigh against you. You breathe into the kiss, pressing down on him and surrendering to the unconscious rhythm of your hips. He lets that go on for a minute or two until you’re so distracted that you can’t kiss him back. 

Unexpectedly he pulls away, disentangling himself from your legs. You stammer in frustration until his fingers hook under the soft material of your shorts. “Hips up.”

Wordlessly you comply, succumbing to his gentle words and touch. He bows to kiss you as he slides the fabric down unhurriedly. Once the shorts are gone, he sits up, and carefully lifts one of your legs over his lap, gaze unabashedly glued between them. 

“Eyes up here,” you try to joke, but it’s steeped in self-consciousness and your heart is pounding. He manages, stroking the inside of your knee with a thumb as he leans down again. 

“But you’re so pretty,” he murmurs, before he’s kissing you again. “Just like I knew you would be.”

You whimper when his hand skates over your stomach, lower, and lower, and—

“Tell me one more time, sweetheart.”

Your plead is just as hungry and yearning. “Please, Spencer?”

It works for him. 

When his knuckles brush over your clit, you forget to breathe. When they barely skim your entrance, collecting arousal to drag back upward, your brain malfunctions. It is not enough, maddeningly so, but when he finds a careful, introductory rhythm, it’s immediately bordering on too much, too good. 

Your stomach tenses and you are surprised by your own sighs and hesitant gasps as you try to adjust to the feeling of someone else’s hand between your legs. 

“Does that feel good?” he murmurs against your lips. 

“Mhm,” you chirp. Slow but insistent circles elicit a cry that gets caught in your throat, melting into a hum. Your eyes are closed, but you can hear the smile in Spencer’s voice. 

“You’re sensitive, huh?”

“S—sometimes.”

 He hums contemplatively. 

“Sometimes? Can you tell me about that?”

You can’t hardly think around those gentle movements of his hand, let alone speak. He touches you like you’re something delicate. It’s torturous and perfect. But you try to answer anyway, managing to keep the stammering to a minimum. 

“About what?” 

“I want to know what you think about when you touch yourself.” The smooth words in tandem with an incremental increase in pressure earn your first real moan. Timid and unpracticed, but very genuine. 

The answer comes immediately afterward; thoughtlessly and on a shuddering exhalation.

“You.”

“Yeah?” he smiles. “Good answer.”

Your eyes open fractionally to study his expression. You’d felt so much shame every time you’d imagined him in your bed late at night.

“Really?” 

“Really. And now look at you. Letting me do it for you.” As if to remind you, he speeds up the motion of his hand. On instinct you bring your fingers to your lips as you moan through a closed throat, partly to stifle the noise and partly because you don’t know what to do with the hand that’s not gripping the duvet. “Do you only touch here?” His fingers slide down to your slick entrance and your hips buck, mourning the loss of stimulation. “Or do you touch here, too?” 

You shake your head, breathing hard as he teases a finger around the soft place you’ve never really bothered to explore. “Never feels good when I try.”

“We’re gonna make it feel good, okay?”

You nod hesitantly, leaning back into the pillows when he kisses you again. 

His lips are so distracting, so intoxicating you almost forget what he’s doing until he does it. It’s a foreign sensation—not entirely pleasant or unpleasant. For a moment or two your brows furrow as you focus on the feeling, worried that maybe you’re broken just as you thought—until you feel a slight stretch and you realize he’s pushing a second finger into you now. A kiss lands on your cheek when you grab his arm with a choked gasp, and he mutters, “deep breaths,” into your ear. “I know it’s new, honey, just breathe.”

“Fuck,” you whimper as you look down, and you didn’t realize you were going to say it until it’s already passed between your lips. Pressure begins melding with the promise of pleasure, and something about watching his hand move between your legs—the tendons flexing and wrist bending as he eases into what is clearly a perfected motion—arouses you so much you moan at the sight alone. Flipping pages is all you thought that hand was meant for. It’s like a secret revealed as you watch it do something so salacious, and to you. 

A hot spark of pleasure flares deeper in you than you’ve ever felt. It catches and grows faster than you’d of thought—suddenly you can feel everything and it all feels better than you thought possible. Your jaw drops and a surprised huff of air blows a strand of your hair away. 

“Oh my god,” comes your breathy little whisper, unprepared for and intimidated by how good he’s making you feel. Filthy noises come from between your legs and you clench around his fingers. You had no idea you could make those noises. You had no idea you could get so wet. 

“Yeah, there we go.” His voice sounds a little further away now. You manage to tear your eyes away from all the action to his face. Much like you, he’s transfixed by the sight, brow furrowed and pretty lips parted in what could be concentration, or some sort of empathetic pleasure. His face has more color to it than usual and his breaths come heavier—it’s a very pleasant sight. Suddenly his fingers brush against a spot deep within you and your hips cant upward, a mewl pulled from the depths of your throat that has more control over you than you do it. Spencer’s eyes flash back to you, a grin playing at his lips. He does it again, looking right into your eyes, and you whine so pitifully your face flushes. 

“Too much?” he asks. You shake your head firmly, arching your back when he unconsciously slows down. At your response his fingers begin rutting into you again, committing to that spot inside you that makes you see stars. “Of course not. You’re gonna take whatever I give you, huh?”

“Uh-huh,” you nod. You’d do just about anything for him right at this second. Spencer holds an immense amount of power over you in this moment, and potentially in all future moments moving forward. But you trust him with it. 

“You don’t have anything to prove to me. I just want you to feel good. You’ll tell me if it’s too much, right?”

But it’s really not too much. It’s exactly right. Your verbal capacity is acutely limited right now, so you can’t exactly say it, but you lock eyes with him and whine shamelessly, hips twisting against his hand. You think he gets the message. 

Hair falls over his face and he doesn’t fix it, opting instead to alternate his gaze between your cunt and face, cursing to himself lowly. You wouldn’t want him to stop and fix his hair—what you want is this, for him to keep pushing you toward that elusive edge and to keep looking at you like you put all the stars in the sky. 

“Look at you, my pretty girl. I’m so proud of you. I know this isn’t easy. I know you were scared. Thank you for letting me do this, honey.”

It’s the unexpected tenderness of the words, perfectly misplaced in the context of the moment. It’s the devotion, the honesty in his eyes, shining through the haze of lust, which makes your stomach drop and all your muscles tense. A million thoughts jumble in your head, dizzying and thrilling and confusing, but mostly all you can think is Spencer, Spencer, Spencer. Is this how it always is? Your hands tangle in the sheets—and then all the thoughts vanish. Everything is warm and fuzzy and sparkling clean, no worries, no lingering thoughts, no self-awareness at all. It’s nirvana. It’s revelatory. It’s ridiculous that he did this all in under five minutes and you haven’t been able to do it once even with very concerted effort. 

Slowly you float back into your body, breathing hard and watching through half-lidded eyes as Spencer gently pulls his hand away. Without him you feel weirdly empty and cold, like he should have been there all along. But his touch isn’t absent for long—he runs his hand over the bridge between your hips, little finger dipping into the crease of your thigh. 

“That’s never… I’ve never done that before,” you admit, slurring your words only slightly. 

His perfect features contort into a half-frown, half-smile. 

“You’ve never had an orgasm?” You nod. His head tilts. “Really? You didn’t tell me that.”

“When would I have told you?” you laugh, finding his waist with your hand and encouraging him to settle his weight on you. He does, burying his face in your neck and exhaling heavily. 

“Well?” you ask shyly, skating your fingers over his back. “Did I do it right?”

Spencer snorts, but presses a sickeningly sweet kiss to the curve of your neck. 

“Did you like it?”

“Yes,” you admit, voice smaller than you’d have liked. He pushes himself up onto his forearms and kisses you softly. 

“Then we both did it right.”

“But…” you stare up into his warm honey eyes, searching for any bits of hidden truth you can find. He brushes a strand of hair away from your face, utterly unconcerned. “You know what I mean.” 

“I do,” he agrees, “and I’ll say this because I know otherwise you’re going to worry about it forever.” He studies your face reverently for a moment, before parting his lips to speak. The words are slow to come, like he’s trying to figure the sentence out as he goes along. “You… are going to be, problematic, for me.”

Your whisper is almost as small as you feel under his heavy gaze. “What d’you mean?” 

“I mean,” Spencer begins, voice low, “I think I liked that too much. Do you see why that’s troubling?”

The flame you thought had been quenched flickers back to life like a pilot light. Your thighs press together to alleviate a growing ache in a still sensitive area and you answer, “no,” with a small shake of your head. His thumb tenderly traces your jaw, ever-patient despite the fact that you’re obviously playing coy. 

“Because I can’t have you all the time.”

“Yes you can,” you say without hesitation, though your eyes are fluttering. “You can have me whenever you want. Right now.”

He hums, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

“Not tonight. You’ve had enough. You’re tired.”

“I’m wide awake,” you slur, tangling a hand in his hair even as you lose the battle against your eyelids. 

He sighs good-naturedly, gently wrapping his fingers around your wrist and brushing his lips over the delicate skin. 

“You’re shockingly precocious.”

You hum. 

“You just unleashed the beast. You’re like Doctor Frankenstein.”

He chuckles, sitting up and finding your shorts. You manage to be semi-helpful, lifting your legs at appropriate junctures as he tugs your clothing back on. “And you’re a nerd.”

“I don’t need to take that from you of all people.”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” Spencer says, and the smile in his voice makes you smile, a quarter asleep as he leans over to turn off the lamp on your side of the bed before tugging the covers over both of you. 

He pulls you close in the dark, releasing a deep sigh as you curl into him. His heartbeat is steady against your ear, his arms warm around you. You can imagine making a home for yourself here. And you don’t know if he’s thinking it, but you hope he is, as you are silently repeating to yourself with every beat of his heart;

I love you

I love you

I love you. 

-

part two

[mermaidsirennikita]

Hi, I Just read Devil in Winter and OMG what a book, I wasn't expecting the level of care taking Sebastian was doing with Evie but I absolutely loved it, can you please recommend books with that kind of dynamic? Of the hero being like that?

And also now that I have the courage to así lol do you have books with the classic he's a super grumpy man but has a soft spot for her?

Hiii Devil in Winter is an amazing book! It's one of those novels where you totally get why it's a classic. Hot, romantic, well-written, and yes! I agree, the caretaking is something you don't expect and frankly don't get from a lot of rake books especially.

And also, don't be worried about asking me for recs, I have anon on for a reason, if I have recs to give I will always give them!

Caregiver Heroes:

When a Duke Loves a Woman by Lorraine Heath. Historical. Just read this, and it actually has mutual caretaking! The heroine is a lower class tavern owner who begins by discovering the hero (a duke lol) after he's basically been mugged and is badly hurt. She nurses him back to health (not like breastfeeding nursing despite his best efforts but you get me) and he can't quit her so he comes back and ends up taking care of HER after she gets a concussion and is very like "you deserve nice things, let me show you what it's like to not have to take care of yourself all the time".

Between the Devil and Desire by Lorraine Heath. Historical. One of Lorraine's best, about a widow and a lower class scoundrel who becomes the guardian to her son (a baby duke). Olivia is super in charge and though her husband wasn't mean he never gave her the attention or care she needed. Jack really takes over (while not undermining her) and becomes this loving father figure to her son, and she's resistant at first because they dislike each other, but she gradually caves and lets him care for them--and when she gets sick??? Oh, dude. He is CARING for her, including a scene where he has to put her in an ice bath and it's sooo good. TW for discussions of childhood sexual abuse.

Surrender to the Devil by Lorraine Heath. Historical. Follows the previous one, is more about psychological caretaking. The hero is a duke who wants to take the lower class heroine as his mistress, but she has a lot of trauma (TW: childhood sexual abuse) and is super independent. It's another one where he has to basically convince her to let him care for her, and it's big on recovery and tenderness.

Never Seduce a Scot by Maya Banks is a medieval romance with these vibes, for sure. The hero and heroine are in an arranged marriage, and she's deaf, so a lot of people think she was set back mentally by an accident she had years ago (which actually just caused her deafness). The hero is super gentle with her, and though he's attracted to her he initially is resistant to being with her because he doesn't believe she has the capacity to consent. He's actually a very sweet guy, despite being a warrior lol. They develop this very tender relationship where he takes such good care of her and understands her in a way nobody else does.

Reel by Kennedy Ryan is a contemporary I wanna recommend because the heroine has lupus and the hero is her director (she's an actress, and he's giving her her big break). He is soooo caring, and he was actually a caregiver for his mom before she died. The heroine is resistant about being vulnerable about her condition, but man, it's lovely.

Seduce Me at Sunrise by Lisa Kleypas is a historical, came after DiW. The hero and heroine were childhood friends, and he actually took care of her when she had scarlet fever, while she took care of him after an incident that made him super ill. His issue is actually that he doesn't want to hurt her, and he thinks he will if they have sex, because her body is still weak after she recovers. So he rejects her, and she comes back from Europe after a couple of years much stronger. So you get a different take--he's so caring, but that makes him hold himself back from her physically.

Waking Up with The Duke and The Earl Takes All by Lorraine Heath are two of her more well-known historicals (the "local mask asks hero to impregnate his wife" book and the "hero pretends to be his identical twin to spare twin's wife the shock" book). They're both, as Lorraine often writes, focused on heroes who sort of try to show the heroine a different side of life, a different level of tenderness. The hero of Waking Up with The Duke like, rubs the heroine's back and feet. The Earl Takes All has a hero who gives the heroine this different level of affection and tenderness than what she got from her husband, etc.,

Forget Me Not by Julie Soot, again if you're open to contemporary, is a second chance romance between this driven wedding planner heroine and the florist hero who just really wants to take care of her and give her a soft place to land--which is hard for her to accept.

The Rakess by Scarlett Peckham has a heroine who's super independent and controversial, and she begins an affair with this lovely single father widower intending to love him and leave him, but he wants to show her tenderness!!!

Lady Isabella's Scandalous Marriage by Jennifer Ashley is a second chance romance between an estranged husband and wife, and he wants to rebuild the marriage while she doesn't trust that he can, essentially, give her the emotional support she needs. He spends the book trying to prove it to her!

As for the grumpy hero, absolutely! Try:

What I Did for a Duke by Julie Anne Long. Classic, lol, he's so grumpy and he initially is trying to seduce the heroine to get revenge against her brother, but quickly develops a major soft spot for her.

After Dark with The Duke by Julie Anne Long. Another "he's starchy. and grumpy and withholding" book--and initially, he's that with her too, but he gradually softens and she becomes like, the light of his gloomy life, etc.

The's Perfect Wife by Jennifer Ashley has a hero who's so known for being grouchy and aggressive, but when his ex-fiancee comes back into his life he is immediately so into her again, and she's the only one who can really stand up to him and break down his walls. An all time favorite!

In Which Matilda Halifax Learns the Value of Restraint by Alexandra Vasti. This has a very shy yet very horny heroine who runs afoul of the stern hero, who everyone finds scary--but she doesn't. So good!

The Duke Who Knew Too Much by Grace Callaway. Stern, cold hero who everyone basically thinks committed a murder, lol, but while he and the plucky heroine are initially at odds, she quickly worms her way into his heart.

Managed by Kristen Callihan is a contemporary, but I'd so recommend checking it out. The hero is the uptight manager of a rock band everyone is kind of scared of--the heroine is the whimsical photographer he hires to chronicle the band's tour. They begin this weird arrangement where she sleeps in his bed platonically because he needs her to help with is insomnia lol.

The Truth About Cads and Dukes by Elisa Braden is a marriage of convenience book with a hero who's super stuffy and stern, but ends up falling for his wife despite his best efforts. And becomes OBSESSED.

[eskawrites]

do you have any new fic recs?

ooh let's see. i'm so bad at keeping up with fics whenever i'm consistently writing so i'm incredibly behind as far as stranger things/ronance fics go. buuuut

some that fall don't land in bubbles by moonflowery (@mistyquigleys)

^current obsession. i love mermaid mondays. inspired by mermaid bar by maya hawke, the girls have crushes, trauma, and gills lol. this story is so soft and gentle and healing, and it features all our fav hawkins ladies which i absolutely love. we need more girls' fics in this fandom

monster of the week by @freezeveganpolice

this isn't news. everyone is reading this, i'm just late to the party but my god i'm obsessed (this fic is part of the reason i started re-watching charmed fun fact)

in her hips, there's revolution by @monstrous-femme

also late to the party on this one, also kicking myself for not reading it sooner. it's so good and is easily one of the best nancy explorations in this fandom

also everything by maalaaviikaa (everything by all of these people) but keep good love from going wrong just updated and reminded me that every chapter of that fic is a heart-wrenching masterpiece, it absolutely breaks me every time and i love it so much

oh and Good luck. Travel Safe. GO! by regularsizedrudy is also just a ton of fun. i know nothing about the amazing race but i'm having a good time anyway

[guardian-angle22]

This week's theme is: rec a fanwork (fic, gifset, fanart, podfic - bonus points if you do multiple mediums) that made you feel warm and fuzzy inside (the 'feel good' fanwork). Tag @welcometololaland or #fic rec friday

Thank you for the tag, @ladytessa74

I love that this week is expanding into other kinds of works! This post is going to be very fucking link heavy as a result because I got a little excited😅 I'm also going to queue up a ton of these to reblog over this weekend (cause they're all too wonderful to only reblog once anyway).

911: Lone Star

Fanart

tarlos proposal (made pre-actual proposal) by @alwaysablossom

tarlos instagram au set by @revengeofthesiths

these stunning tarlos drawings by @reyeslonestar

grace ryder by @yorit1

brian michael smith/paul strickland by @mahanonu

softball TK by @dannylarryson

tarlos coffeeshop meet cute comic by @fitzherbertssmolder

Gifsets

the 126 in color by @ayan-sukkhapisit

firefighter paul strickland by @ayan-sukkhapisit

the 126 + tarot cards by @rafael-silva

the women of the 911ls by @rafael-silva

marjan rupi kaur set by @rafael-silva

paul set by @scullyblr

stunning tk/tarlos set by @ronenrubinstein

marjan 3x9/4x9 parallel set by tailoredshirt

paul strickland + trans flag colors by @genderqueerbuck

paul strickland + true colors by @floralbuckleys

Fics

With love, your soulmate by @chaotictarlos [soulmate AU]

Pure devotion by @mi1kc0ffee [kinky PWP themed: gag]

And We'll Only Be Making It Right & Now my heart is in your hands by @noxsoulmate [friends to lovers s1/2 AU]

Showing You my Love by @ramblingdisaster73 [soft, fluffy tarlos surprise date]

The Raven Cycle

Fanart

All Adam cared about was his autonomy by @eggpy

ronan lynch: good catholic boy by @polartss

the shopping cart scene by @rosiethorns88

Fics

while we're on the subject, could we change the subject now by @toast-the-unknowing [no supernatural, neighbors AU]

Steady All The Hands by sksai [no supernatural, single father!ronan & sex worker!adam AU]

Star Wars

Fanart

Lizzo & Grogu by @fionacreates

jedi!Finn by @furiousfinnstan

come as you are (anakin) by @02png

one of the most stunning things featuring that tattooine desert you'll ever see by @procoffeinating

Gifsets

leia set by @hayden-christensen

finn + maya angelou set by @momentofmemory

[cookiesandwhimsy]

Ahhhhh so sweet AND HOT and sweet!!! I love it!!!

Title: Fire Burning from a Cedar Tree

Fandom: MCU

Characters/Pairings: King!Steve x Royal!female!Reader, brief appearance from Natasha

Word Count: 3.4k

Summary: Georgian-but-quasi-American royal AU. You came into the betrothal with no illusions to the situation – yours was a marriage to ensure the continuation of many generations of alliance and peace between your respective kingdoms. Very early, however, you learn what your royal union truly means to you both.

Content Warnings: politically arranged marriage, reluctant pining, SMUT (rough fucking, p in v, oral – female receiving, fluffy fucking, nipple play)

Additional Notes: The eighth and final offering in my 2022 Holiday Extravaganza. Just a smutty one-shot here with a smattering of situation painting/plot and relationship development. Did I think we were going to end up with this much Steve for the HE? Nope! But here we are, yet again ahaha. I had closed my laptop and gotten up to go to bed, had this idea while brushing my teeth, and sat back down and typed for an hour, then have been feverishly returning to it as I had the time. So I hope you enjoy, dear reader.

Music Ficspiration: Big God by Florence + the Machine, I’ve Grown Accustomed to Her Face from My Fair Lady, Better Love by Hozier, Movement by Hozier, So Real by Jeff Buckley, Lover, You Should’ve Come Over by Jeff Buckley

“Your Majesty,” one of your ladies in waiting enters your bedchambers and sweeps into a curtsy.

“Yes?” you prompt, turning in your chair to look at her directly instead of through mirror of the vanity.

“His Majesty the King has returned.”

You nod, “Thank you. You may retire for the evening.”

She curtsies again, bowing her head, and then leaves, closing the door softly behind her. You sigh, turning back properly in your chair so your lady in waiting, the Duchess Natalia, can resume taking down your hair.

“Your Majesty?” she prompts, noting your sigh.

“It’s good to hear the king is back.”

“He will undoubtedly request an audience with you tomorrow,” she says. She is far too observant and already knows you too well.

She is also mercifully diplomatic, discreet, and a confidant who listens and doesn’t needle you or pry, so she continues letting out the braids, letting you muse on your own and only speak further if you want to.

You don’t want to.

The product of a long-arranged betrothal to bring peace between two countries, you had accepted your fate, resigned to be a good and dutiful queen. You were not to inherit a throne in your own country, had known that from birth with two older brothers, and you had grown up ready to embrace duty and opportunity. On arriving in the kingdom of Brooklyn as the future queen, your interactions with King Steven had been limited, but pleasant. They had been sufficient for you to be secure in your hope that it would be a good union, no need to worry about him being either cruel or moronic.

You had expected to be wedded and bedded. What you had not expected was to actually fall for him after the wedding ceremony and royal festivities when the two of you had taken the custom ten-day royal honeymoon to the palace in the north of his country by the lakes. The first night, of course, you’d consummated the union. The first few days you had been tentative in each other’s company. But with few staff, few interruptions, no royal obligations, only time really to yourselves – dining together, walking in the gardens, riding in the forest, in your bedchambers… you had grown close, and you had dangerously started to lose your heart to him.

Then you had been sent back to court while he had to depart directly to attend to matters in California in Stark’s kingdom. Two weeks had stretched to three, and the longer he was absent, the more you missed him, spurring you to grow more irritated at your naivety for developing more tender feelings for him than just that of the dutiful wife and queen you were supposed to and had intended to be.

No, here you sat, hoping your husband would summon you on the morrow, as you could not simply turn up in his royal presence, even though you were queen. Indeed, you could go anywhere else in this kingdom, had the company of many – some only because they had to or were courting your favor, but enough warm and developing relationships throughout the court – but not the one person you now yearned for.

You had been prepared all your life to marry a king and not to grow sentimentally attached to him as your husband. You felt like such a fool, pining when you had been perfectly fine and content in your life a mere six weeks ago.

There are voices outside your bedchamber and you and Natasha exchange perplexed looks. Just as she turns toward the door, it bursts open, the king entering without hesitation. He takes in the scene then quickly strides forward.

Natasha quickly drops into the customary curtsy. “Your Majesty,” she says.

You should have risen from your spot and greeted him as well, but your heart has jumped into your throat, and you are momentarily frozen.

The king is across the room and standing next to you by the time Natasha rises back to her full stature. He reaches out for the brush in her hand, and you catch the nearly imperceptible lift of the corners of her lips in a smile as she gives it to him.

“Duchess, you may go, I will take over.”

“Yes, your Majesty.”

She makes to curtsy again before exiting, but he waves her off. “Go,” he commands, impatiently but somehow without any irritation, and she heeds his wishes and departs immediately.

Wordlessly, he steps right up behind you. You suppose you shouldn’t have been surprised he came to you. You belong to him, and he’s been denied by proximity for three weeks. He pulls all your hair into his left hand, then, holding it, works the brush through it with his right hand, starting at the bottom, moving up a little at a time. You marvel at how gently and methodically he works through your locks, almost reverently. Neither of you speak as he brushes your hair. You study him in the mirror. He’s concentrated fully on his task. Coming to a finish, he finally meets your gaze in the mirror, and the look in his eyes is intense. He sets the brush on the dressing table and sweeps your hair to one side, exposing your neck and he leans down to press a long, heated kiss to your delicate skin. You shiver as he follows this with shorter kisses trailing down your neck to the juncture where it meets shoulder, and it’s a sensitive point that draws a sigh from your lips.

He stands up straight and urges you to turn in your chair and face him. His fingers possessively trace along your jaw, tilting your chin up. “Did you miss your king?”

You couldn’t say you missed your husband and not your king, not yet, so instead of mincing words or spinning together something else true enough to say, you bring your hand up over his, and turn your head to press a kiss into the palm of his hand.

You try to move to kneel before him, but he says, “Oh no,” instead insisting on luring you up and pulling you into a kiss, fully flush against his body, and he leads you in no uncertain terms to the bed, shoving you down to sit at the foot of the mattress. He draws back and both of you are panting heavily. He stands between your legs, and he doesn’t take his eyes off your as he pulls his tunic up over his head and drops it to the floor. His breeches quickly follow, and his cock springs free, hard, and ready to take you. Already breathing heavily, you’re able to hide your reaction somewhat – which is a confusing mixture of both excitement and trepidation.

He urges you to scoot back, crawling up to join you,

Midway up the bed, he presses on your shoulder, “Lay back for me. “

He rucks up your nightgown around your hips, and crawls over you, using one hand to guide himself into your already slickening folds before caging you in on either side of your head and thrusting deep inside your cunt, filling you completely with the first thrust.

He adopts a frenzied pace to fuck you. It’s hard and fast. He’s no longer looking at you, his head dropped and buried into the crook of your neck. You can’t catch your breath. This isn’t what you wanted.

He holds your thigh up around his narrow waist, spearing into you again and again, his fingers digging into your flesh with a bruising force. You let out a quiet sob and he abruptly stills, raising his head to look at you, but you can’t look at him.

You’re not fast enough to brush away the tears though, and you know he sees them slowly rolling down your cheeks, tears you had fought to keep at bay.

He utters your name as if in pain and draws away completely, sitting back on his heels.

You turn away, rolling to your side, feeling so much more of you has been exposed than merely your naked body before him.

After a moment that stretches on between the two of you, his fingers tenderly caress your calf. He murmurs your name tentatively this time, a question.

You sense him shift on the bed, and suddenly you feel him behind you. You are wrapped in on yourself, but his hand brushes softly from your elbow to your shoulder. He lingers there for a moment, then you feel him shift behind you again, and he props himself up, so he can look down at you over your shoulder, and his hand moves purposefully now to your cheek to wipe away your tears. He plants a kiss on your shoulder. Then he brings his hand back to your shoulder and softly urges you to roll toward him so you’re on your back again and he can look directly at you again.

“That was too rough. You are a queen and deserve better treatment from a king.”

You turn your head away. “No, it’s not…” You bite your lip. Even the way he apologized was too detached and it made your heart ache.

“Not what?”

More hot tears spill silently over your cheeks. How can you explain? You hardly understood the tempest in your heart yourself.

But then he cups the side of your face, brushes his thumb over the apple of your cheek, and when he draws your gaze back to him, there is something in his eyes so searching and raw that your heart longs for more of that version of him. “It wasn’t that you were too rough, it was that I don’t want to be merely used and discarded.” Your admission is out in a rush before you could second guess your words or their consequences.

He frowns. “Far from it.”

He moves closer and plants a kiss on your forehead, then rests his forehead against yours. Eyes closed, for a moment you both simply breath each other in being that close, one of his hands still cupping your cheek. At length, he speaks again. “I was desperate for you.”

“Desperate for me?”

He breaks away and laughs softly, but there’s a pang of bitterness to it. “Yes, desperate.”

He sits up, facing away from you.

You sit up next to him, smoothing your nightdress down, unsure how to proceed, you don’t want to lose him in the present. “Steven?” you try to coax him for more.

He sighs. “I’m afraid you will find me to be a fool.”

You wait for him to continue, needing to hear what he means.

“I was serenely independent and content before we wed, and inexplicably in a matter of days you somehow seem to have seeped into my bones, because from the first of your absence my mind turned so often of you. I found myself wondering what your opinion would be, wanting you to try some of the delicacies alongside me, wishing to see your smiles and your frowns throughout the course of the day. When I returned to my chambers each night, they were empty instead of peaceful and solitary. I’d grown accustomed to your voice, accustomed to your face, accustomed to your place at my side.”

He pauses again for a moment, and his expression pained. “But it was more than accustomed – I truly yearned for you and was angry to feel so much unlike myself when I’ve ruled for more than a decade without you, lived a life I thought was very much complete before you, devoted to the crown and happy in my reign, and now…”

The sentiment lingers in the space between you. Surely, he must hear your thundering of your heart in your chest. Finally, you say, “If you’re a fool, I’m a fool.”

His head snaps to look at you.

You take a deep breath and expose your soul to him, too. “I was born and raised for our royal duties, to marry and become a useful and reliable queen. There was no question of your deep commitment to rule this kingdom dutifully as its king. In the days before we married, it was evident we had the same expectations of our union, no sentimental notions. It made sense, and we were well-matched. At our wedding, we became king and queen. Away from our royal expectations, alone with each other, I think we both fell into becoming husband and wife. I’ve yearned for you these past weeks as well, and I couldn’t abide how impossible I thought my situation was, so sure and confident I would make for a good queen but discovering I wanted more. It was only when you went away that I felt the lack of something – an affection as I’d never had before, both for you and from you.”

He turns fully toward you and kisses you again, and instead of the demand and hunger, as he kisses now it’s driven only by the unrestrained yearning he confessed and that you admitted in return.

He pulls you into his lap, and you straddle him. He breaks the kiss to rid you of your nightdress entirely now instead of only pushing it out of the way as before, and then his lips immediately seek yours again. Your arms wrap around his neck, and his broad, warm hands are splayed across your back, pressing you flush to him, and you are just as eager to feel every inch of his skin seared against yours

He pauses his kiss, both of you utterly breathless now. You put a hand on his chest over his heart. He looks down and smiles at the gesture before looking up and beaming at you, but his small falters a fraction at the concentrated look on your face.

“What is it?”

You speak the notion that’s newly bloomed in your chest. “We are the only two people in the world with whom we can be totally ourselves, husband and wife, not the king and the queen, just a man and a woman.”

He nods fervently. “A new vow then between us: to both guard and embrace this as a true and unfettered love.”

You kiss him, but he only returns it briefly before pausing it again. “Do you swear it?” he asks.

You bob your head eagerly, seeking his lips, but he grips your chin, holding you back. “Words.”

“I swear it with everything I am.”

“As do I,” he affirms, then captures your lips again with his, moving you both again, this time lowering you worshipfully to the mattress. His mouth begins moving slowly down your neck, and you shiver, one hand coming up to tangle in his hair, the other clutching his muscled bicep. When he reaches the base of your neck, his tongue laves at the sweet spot he discovered there in your first precious days together, making you whimper. He then mouths at the spot and plants one more kiss there before moving lower. His lips skim lightly down your chest, kissing over where your heart is thrumming. He kisses the swell of your left breast, and then moves to mirror that action on the right. He brings his right hand up to palm one of your breasts as his tongue flicks across your nipple. He works to bring both to stiff peaks, licking and sucking the right while his hand plays with the left. Your back arches in pleasure at his ministrations.

He moves his mouth back to the other breast, and before you can think to miss his hand there, it’s confidently parting your thighs, seeking your now extremely wet folds.

“Steve.”

“That’s it, my love, let me make you feel good,” he says, and you whimper again. His fingers stroke your labia slowly. Your eyes close as he stokes your pleasure. He slips a finger into your core, pumping in and out. When he adds another finger, you can’t hold back the little noises that escape you. He presses his thumb to your clit, rubbing circles, and those little noises morph into a moan. Steve moves up now to hover over you, watching your face as he works you up to your first climax that night. You would feel too exposed if he had studied you this way during your first days together, but your confessions tonight to each other leave you now feeling safe being so intimately on display. When you cry out, hips bucking, he continues to stroke, working you through the orgasm.

He removes his fingers, and you need the moment, but lament the emptiness. His eyes are still on your face, and when your breathing is close to normal, you open your eyes and look back at him. Then you glance lower to see he’s pumping his hard, thick member with the hand that was still glistening with your slick of arousal. His eyes are aflame with his need, and he moves in to kiss you again. You welcome it, parting your lips and sliding your tongue between his. He opens for you, and as your tongues tease and delve, you roll and hungrily push him back on the mattress.

Steve grabs your hips with both of his hands and moves your body to straddle him. In place just where he wants you, chest to chest, you drop down to your elbows, planted on either side of his head. As you continue to kiss, he presses his hand down to the base of your spine and brushes his cock temptingly against your entrance. You push your hips back against him, and his chest hums with approval.

“Please,” you plead.

He doesn’t make you ask twice, using his other hand to guide his length into your quim. He doesn’t rush this push into you, but it’s not slow. Once fully sheathed, he moves his arms to circle around your chest, holding you close to him as he sets a steady pace thrusting up into you. He swallows your moans of ecstasy. When it begins to overwhelm you, you have to break off the consuming kiss to gulp lungful’s of air. Seeing you desperate like this above him drives his voracity.

Still buried inside you, he rolls to bring you beneath him once more. You cling to his shoulders, and he continues to advance toward release for both of you. He shifts the angle of his hips, and he’s rewarded with a pure keen from you. He continues to hit the spongy spot up against your pubic bone. You sob, so close, and this time the tears are pure pleasure. He grasps at one of your hands, and your fingers twine together. A few more thrusts and your walls flutter around him and then he your orgasm hits. Your spasming channel is too much, and with a groan he spills inside you right after.

He collapses against you, and you welcome the weight of his body. You’re both quiet in your moment of satiation. Your free hand draws lazy patterns over his shoulder blade as your breathing returns to normal. You wonder if he’s going to drop off into sleep, but then he repositions slightly, and asks, “Are you comfortable?”

“Mhmm,” you respond. You’re comfortable physically and intimately in this moment with him.

He brings your joined hands to his lips, and he kisses the back of your hand, then tucks it close to his chest and begins conversing with you – about the mundane, the important, things from the past few weeks apart, and from your lives apart before. There’s more kissing, followed by more pleasure, pulling each other apart in turn, and no sleeping until long after midnight.

You groan when he wakes you at what seems to be daybreak. You close your eyes again swiftly, and open your mouth to protest, but he cups your jaw and his thumb brushes over your parted lips. “I know it’s early,” he murmurs, “but I want to have you once more while we’re alone and unbothered.”

And when he says it like that, with such tenderness and longing, you wouldn’t dream of denying it for either of you. You hope to grow accustomed to many more stolen mornings over your lifetime together now.

COMPANION/PREQUEL PIECE: The Thrill of Knowing How Alone We Are

READ THE NEXT PART: A SHIFT IN THE MORNING ROUTINE

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

If you enjoyed, reblog to help others find this story AND to normalize the fic-reblog culture. There are so many talented writers, and a reblog really fuels the muses of the soul more than you know - we all appreciate it whether we're big or little fish in this pond.

My askbox is always open.

[beansnsoup]

DIRECTORY

Guide:

Fluff - 🍊

Angst - 🏵

Who/what I write for: ☆☆☆

Fic Recs: Part One -> Part Two

Requests: Closed

Super Mario

Mario

Birthday Girl 🍊🏵

Cap and Gown 🍊

Luigi

Birthday Girl 🍊🏵

Cap and Gown 🍊

"It's all going to be okay, I'm here." 🍊🏵

Take A Break 🍊🏵

Just Say Yes 🍊

"Just please tell me you're okay." 🏵

Luigi headcanons (having children with him) 🍊

It's My Party 🍊

"I'd never let anything happen to you." 🍊🏵

Draw Me Like One of Your Italian Boys 🍊

Boo! 🍊

Shut Up and Drive 🍊

Mushroom Season 🍊

Lover 🍊

"I'm sorry, I love you." 🍊🏵

P.U.N.K. 🍊

Sing Me A Melody 🍊

Prince Charming 🍊

Star Lover 🍊

Sworn Protector 🍊

Jealous, Jealous, Jealous Boy 🍊

"Really? You Do?" 🍊

New Hire 🍊

Luigi Headcanons (fairy reader) 🍊

Luigi Headcanons (Meeting the family) 🍊

Knight In Shining Armor 🍊

Meet The Family 🍊

"...do you like them?" 🍊

Giant Woman 🍊

"I don't think you're evil, I think you're great." 🍊🏵

Tangled Up 🍊

Luigi Headcanons (platonic and romantic) 🍊

His reaction to Bowser kidnapping you 🍊🏵

Donkey Kong

Donkey Kong Headcanons 🍊

More Donkey Kong Headcanons 🍊

Good Arrangement 🍊

Good Arrangement (part two) 🍊

Trying to keep your feelings from him 🍊

Bowser

Trying to keep your feelings from him 🍊

Stranger Things

Robin Buckley

"Tu es tout pour moi." 🍊

Fan Favorites (Maya Hawke) 🍊

I wanna be your girlfriend 🍊

Eddie Munson

"I think I love you." 🍊

Always and forever 🍊

My brother's best friend 🍊

Spark 🍊🏵?

"God, your hair is soft" 🍊

Him 🍊

Love at first sight 🍊

"Can I paint your nails?" 🍊

"I think I love you." 🍊

Steve Harrington

Ahoy 🍊

Will Byers

"You're all I need." 🍊🏵?

Argyle

High and in love (part one) 🍊

High and in love (part two) 🍊

High and in love (part three) 🍊

Getting high with Argyle 🍊

Wednesday

Xavier Thorpe

Jealous Girl 🍊🏵?

Outreach Day 🍊🏵?

Inside Job

Reagan Ridley

"I don't know what I'd do without you." 🍊🏵

Marvel

Peter Parker/Spiderman

First love 🍊

That 90s Show

Leia Forman

Old "Friend" 🍊🏵

Gwen Runck

Get To Know You Mani-Pedi 🍊

Rebel Girl 🍊

Jay Kelso

"Never know unless we try." 🍊

That 70s Show

Eric Forman

“I love you.” “I know.” 🍊

MHA

Izuku Midoriya

Izuku Midoriya dating headcanons 🍊

Out of My League 🍊

Hanta Sero

You Stupid B!tch 🏵🍊

Harry Potter

Harry Potter

In Deep 🍊

Fred Weasley

All Love No Jokes 🍊

Can't Help Falling In Love With You 🍊

Forbidden savor 🍊🏵

George Weasley

See You Again 🍊🏵?

Test Subject 🍊

Ginny Weasley

Starry Night 🍊

Luna Lovegood

Luna Lovegood headcanons 🍊

Other

Casual (Vi - Arcane) 🏵 (has a part two!)

The World We Knew (Loid Forger - Spy x Family) 🏵

[roosterbox]

Fic Rec Friday 8/25/23

Title: Turnabout Trickshot

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: M/M

Fandom: 逆転裁判 | Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney

Relationships: Mitsurugi Reiji | Miles Edgeworth/Naruhodou Ryuuichi | Phoenix Wright, Garyuu Kyouya | Klavier Gavin/Odoroki Housuke | Apollo Justice

Characters: Mitsurugi Reiji | Miles Edgeworth, Naruhodou Ryuuichi | Phoenix Wright, Odoroki Housuke | Apollo Justice, Kidzuki Kokone | Athena Cykes, Naruhodou Minuki | Trucy Wright, Garyuu Kyouya | Klavier Gavin, Yahari Masashi | Larry Butz, Karuma Mei | Franziska von Karma, The Judge (Gyakuten Saiban)

Additional Tags: some made up characters for a trial too, Non-Graphic Violence, Gunshot Wounds, Blood, but its not super bad i guess??, Gun Violence, Hospitals, also i guess implied maya/franziska, turnabout i am immune to bullets, phoenix is completely fine everyone is overreacting, Humor, Fluff, Angst, rated T for the blood and some not so harsh cuss words, and a lot of talk of death, basically phoenix gets shot and miles freaks out a little

Summary: Phoenix Wright was not infallible, in fact he was a very real, very mortal man, and that would be an innocuous statement any other day, but today it might as well have been a death sentence.

———

For this week’s fic, how about something a bit more… humorous.

That’s the main thing about this one - it’s really funny. Which you might not expect from a story where one of the main characters gets shot. But aside from the first handful of paragraphs - which is Miles catastrophizing - the mood of this fic is extremely light. I’ve read a few ‘Phoenix gets seriously injured’ stories, and none of them are quite as fun as this one. Which isn’t a put-down at all! Those ones are just going for a different type of feel, you know?

Everything about this fic, even the title, feels as if it could have been an actual case in an Ace Attorney game. In fact, that’s the main thing I remembered about it when I first read this about a year ago. “Man, that title is fucking great!” I’ve never read something where the stakes are simultaneously so high (character gets shot) and yet so low (he’s fine). And a lot of the Wrightworth fics I gravitate towards have a tendency to be serious and/or sad - I blame canon not really allowing the characters to process trauma - so this one is especially a breath of fresh air. And it all feels perfectly in-character. All of the reactions, dramatic and blasé, are on point.

Favorite bit is probably Phoenix being jokingly dramatic while bleeding out, much to Athena’s distress.

“Tell Edgeworth I love him.”

“TELL HIM YOURSELF.”

It’s just a good time, man.

———

Next Week: Something soft, loving, and sweet. Time to bring in some Thorki. Which is another ship that, if it’s not your thing, I understand. If it is though, prepare yourself for some seriously tooth-rotting fluff, because damn.

Until next time!

[shrinkthisviolet]

💯🔁!

💯: A fic that makes you think #writergoals

They say it takes a special kind of author to make you like/sympathize with a character you dislike. And…oh boy did @ambivalentmarvel achieve that with “Angry At Something New (Better When I’m With You)”! Sympathy for Agatha Harkness…a fic of her and Monica becoming best friends…it shouldn’t work, but it DOES, oh my god, it does. Absolutely writer goals, ambi, I applaud you.

🔁: A fic you’ve re-read several times

I don’t reread fics often but I have such a soft spot for “Precious as Pearls” by @rivalsforlife (an Ace Attorney fic). It’s a lovely Franmaya fic about Franziska trying to win over Pearl, Maya’s younger cousin, and I had no idea I wanted this brotp so bad until I read this fic. They’re so sweet 💞

fic rec ask game!

[nikitunez]

𝙉𝙄𝙆𝙄𝙏𝙐𝙉𝙀𝙕 : ACTIVE WRITER

MAYA ! S%HER ꩜ 8TEEN ★ LGBT ‼ intp-t ᥫ᭡ eng sagittarius ☀ pisces ☾ capricorn ↑

꒰ masterlist ꒱ ꒰ prompts ꒱ ꒰ maya's munchkinz ꒱ ꒰ wips ꒱ ꒰ taglist ꒱ ꒰ rules ꒱ ꒰ fic recs ꒱ ꒰ soft hours ꒱ ꒰ @iiousim nsfw sb ꒱ ꒰ @eunchaeng mb sb ꒱

[forever-will-last]

HEY!! what're your fav cadina fanfics? and do you have any suggestions for new fanfic writers 😭

omg okay so i saw this morning while i was at work and knew this had to wait until i got home to get my FULL attention and then i had to stay at work late so here we go!!! this is LONG so i put it all under the cut!

cadina fic recs (first, some ones from my friends, and then many others i heavily recommend, in no particular order):

Get in, Loser! We're going... to fall in love? - SUPER cute slow burn made by the incredible amazing talented stunning 16Sydd16. Genuinely one of my favorite Cadina fics of all time.

ANYTHING by the Cadina Captain herself, Chisamaya. Maya's been holding down the Cadina fort for YEARS and has 13 INCREDIBLE Cadina fics on her AO3. She's also on Tumblr @chisamayas and posts super cute fanart of Mean Girls and Cadina all the time! My personal favorite fic of hers is Collared (very smutty pet play fic) and I will live and die a Collared stan.

can i come and sweep you off your feet? - super adorable (and angsty at some points, especially for poor regina) fame AU by my very talented friend ninesixtheenths / @girlkisser-wieners on Tumblr! i absolutely also recommend her rugby fic, which is rejanis but is 10/10.

(mean girls) series by anonymous - this is from another friend of mine who posts these anonymously instead of tying them to her account. there are SO MANY good ones in here (12 at time of writing this) including a soulmates au, a superhero au, and some GREAT character studies of both regina and cady. there are a few rejanis fics in this series too but they're all phenomenal.

okay onto fics that aren't from my friends but i heavily recommend, in no particular order:

Mirror Me Back - okay i know i said no particular order but this one's a lie. if you haven't read MMB yet, stop what you're doing and read it right now. it's very smut heavy, however, this is genuinely the fic that got me into writing for this fandom and it is one of the best fics i've ever read across any fandom. every day i perform rituals for an update /j

On Predators and Pack Dynamics - omegaverse fic that is genuinely incredible. obviously very smut heavy but i love the characterization of them here and i also often pray for updates on this one.

if i could tell her (how she's everything to me) - role reversal & arts high school AU from 2020 where cady is the popular one and regina is a little socially awkward. very cute, very sweet, very fun.

Pretty Girls - mean girls 2024 rewrite where cady and regina were anonymous pen pals before cady moved to evanston. really loved this one!! one of the first i read in the tag.

To You, I Can Admit That I'm Just Too Soft for All of It - grad school au that i absolutely LOVE. the chapters are unordered snippets but they are so cute and fun. the author also does some social media stuff with it, i believe on tumblr, so it's a cute little tie in!!

you would find her in a polaroid picture - SUPER good college au!! genuinely recommend anything this author writes tbh i adore their stuff!!

i choose you and me, religiously - once again recommending anything this author writes as well. SO talented. this one is a slow burn idiots in love au and it's just. chef's kiss. muah. i love it.

to answer the other part of your question, about the writing advice, my genuine main piece of advice is to just keep writing. even if it's stuff you don't intend to publish, or a half-baked idea. write drabbles for yourself and just let the words get on the page. i used to publish in a different fandom circa 2017-2019 and hadn't published in YEARS until i started writing a thousand pictures (well, really, don't look for me, but ya know, this all REALLY took off with a thousand pictures). despite the fact that i haven't published in a very long time i never really stopped writing. my google drive is full of folders of assorted drabbles of self indulgent bullshit. snippets from other fandoms, self insert scenarios, some original ideas that with a lot more cooking, could potentially be novel worthy one day. (i am a LONG ways off from that though lol)

my point is, publishing fic can be daunting. even writing coherent or long enough fic to make a cohesive story can be daunting at first. it's better to write for yourself and get the practice of writing even just singular or small series of scenes if you aren't ready for a full fic yet. writing should be fun! make sure you're having fun doing it and trying not to stress the details too much!

if you have any other questions about writing please feel free to ask!! i love talking about my process and stuff and am always willing to share gjsnkgng

[cookiesandwhimsy]

Ughh hes pissing me off too!!

Just Friends: Missed Shot

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes

masterlist

Summary: you and Bucky go on a double date.

It’s giving

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The pumpkin patch is bustling. Your excitement is palpable as you approach the archway wrapped in vines and bundles of straw. Hay stacks mark a low barrier and there are tables covered in jugs, jars, and all sorts of goods as vendors show their wares. 

As you enter, you latch onto Bucky’s forearm and point across at a flying pumpkin. It splats against a huge board, hitting the ring marked ten on the painted bullseye. You squeal and jump up and down. 

“Oh my gosh! Bucky! Look!” You say. “I wanna do it!” 

“I don’t know. We came here for pumpkins...” he says. 

Your heart drops and you look him in the face. His cheek dimples as his lips curve slightly. His beard is thicker and adds shadow to the angles of his face.

You hit his shoulder and release him, “ha ha. Very funny.” 

“You’re just so easy,” he muses and pushes back his hair. 

“You need a hat,” you say. 

“I don’t like ‘em,” he argues. 

“Yeah but it would keep your hair out of your face and your ears wouldn’t be so red,” you stick your tongue out. 

“Maybe I like my hair in my face,” he shrugs. “No one wants to see that.” 

“Oh, boo, don’t be such a grump,” you sneer. “Fine, how about you pick out a pumpkin and I’ll go hit the bulls eye!” 

“Ha, you really think you can?” He snorts. 

“I’m gonna try,” you declare. 

“Well, I have to see this,” he stomps ahead. 

You scurry to catch up with him, “you know, you can’t brag if you do better. You’ve been trained at hitting targets, so...” 

“I see. Already making excuses,” he chuckles. 

“No, I’m just saying, like it’s not big feat, because I’m like a civilian or whatever,” you argue. 

He stops at the end of the line and you come up next to him. The laughter and oohs and ahs as another pumpkin flies fill the air. You look over at the splatter and gape.  

“Oh, man! You shoulda brought your friends,” you say. 

“My friends?” He glances at you. 

“Sam, Steve, they’d probably be better competition,” you bounce on your toes. “I’m so excitedddddd.” 

You almost growl the next word as you move with the line. He laughs again. “Nah, they’re lame. They don’t like this stuff.” 

“Really? Sam seems... I don’t know. You would know,” you cross your arms and sway. “Oh! Pies!” You look over at a nearby table. “Definitely getting one of those. AH! Apple butter.” 

“Focus,” he snaps his fingers. “We haven’t even smashed a pumpkin.” 

“I’m focused,” you insist as you swing back. 

One of the workers in their overalls comes over and you pay for your go. You’re handed a pumpkin as you move up into the queue for the next shots. You peek at Bucky. 

“You wanna go first? Show me how it’s done?” 

“Nah, you go ahead,” he grins. He’s mocking you. 

“Whatever,” you step up as the signal comes.  

Another worker helps you hook your pumpkin in the sling and gives you tips on how to shoot. They step back and you pull on the elastic cords. You plant your feet as you lean into your shot and narrow your sights at the board. Lower. 

You let go and land on your butt as the pumpkin goes hurtling. You sit and watch in awe as in spins and splats against the board, just on the line between the center rings. You throw your hands up. 

“Whooo! Beat that, Barnes!” You holler. 

“Barnes,” he appears next to you and offers his hand, his own ammo under his arm. “Since when you do call me that?” 

“Your turn, Sergeant,” you challenge as he brings you to your feet. 

“Alright, alright, watch it,” he turns and a worker comes to help him. They don’t have to explain as much to him.  

You stand aside and watch his easy stance as he aims and draws taut the cords. He lets it go and it flies straight and true, though it hits the same orange spot left by your own shot. You let out a guffaw. 

“Tied,” you say. 

“What do you mean?” He steps off the platform and approaches you, “I was aiming for your mark, not the centre.” 

“Sureeee.” You roll your eyes. 

“If it makes you feel better, it can be a draw,” he smirks. 

“It doesn’t make me feel better, it’s the truth,” you frown. “Jeez.” 

“Ah, come on, Dreamy, I’m only kidding.”  

“Yeah, well, it’s not very funny. I did pretty good.” 

“I know. You did. Great shot, kid.” 

“Kid?” You huff and twist on your heel, “whatever. You win. You always win.” 

You stomp up to the table of pies and smile at the women behind it through your agitation. They don’t deserve to feel the consequence of his behaviour. It’s not just the slingshot, that’s nothing. It’s everything. He always has to be better than you. 

He’s braver than you, he doesn’t scream on the rollercoaster. He’s stronger than you, wealthier than you, older, wiser, everything better than you. He’s so much better than you that he couldn’t just be nice to your friend. You still haven’t gotten a response from Charlize despite your apologies. 

“Dreamy,” he mutters as he steps up beside you. 

You’re silent as you lean in to read the handwritten labels; blueberry crumble, apple crisp, pumpkin cream, maple tarts... 

“What do you want?” He asks. “My treat. That pumpkin spread looks interesting.” 

“I can pay for myself,” you insist. “Excuse me, ma’am,” you say to one of the elderly sellers, “can I have a tin of the apple butter and this pumpkin pie. Thank you.” 

You get out your coin purse and hand over your only bill. You wait for your change before you collect your goods and don’t wait for Bucky as he orders the spread and a pie of his own. 

When he catches up to you, you’re glowering at the group of kids taking a picture with the skeletons band; The Rolling Bones. It would be funny if you felt like laughing. He sighs as he sets his feet. 

“Look, Dreamy, it’s only a joke--” 

“I don’t care about the dumb pumpkin,” you turn to him with a pout. “I’m mad at you.” 

“You are? For what?” 

“You ruined the date. You didn’t have to like Charlize but you could’ve been nice, you know? Just for that night.” You snip. 

“I... I was--” 

“No, you weren’t. And now she isn’t even my friend,” you say. “Maybe I shouldn’t have tried and I’m sorry for making you do that but you can’t just bring me coffee and expect everything to be fine. It’s not fine.” 

“Dreamy,” he winces. 

“Take me home.” 

“But... we haven’t even got a pumpkin--” 

“I don’t care. I don’t want to be here. With you.” 

“Please, we can talk after and--” 

“Fine, you don’t want to drive me, I’ll walk,” you harrumph and turn away. 

You march across the grounds and hear him following you. You know he can stop you but he won’t. He’s not an Avenger here. He’s just a stubborn old man. 

“Hey, you can’t. You’ll be walking for days--” 

“I don’t care.” 

“I know you care, Dreamy. You care about everything--” 

“I do! I care about you and you ruined it!” You snap over your shoulder as you pass through the gates. 

“Dreamy, I--” He grunts as you speed up and kicks gravel as he follows. “I’m sorry.” 

“Too late. I’m mad. I’m real mad. I don’t think I’ve ever been this mad!” You nearly shout as you charge through the lot. “Leave me alone.” 

“I can’t--” 

“Leave me alone!” You screech and refuse to look back. “Don’t talk to me, Bucky Barnes.” 

He stops. You hear his heels crunch on the ground as he plants them and you keep going. You’re not entirely happy he listened. You know you’re not being practical. You’re all the way out in the middle of nowhere. Yet, you’re too upset to care. 

[nerdieforpedro]

12/17/2023 Weekend Update

We’re halfway through December already! The year will be over soon, so weird but it does happen every year. Anyhow, let’s get started.

Nerdie, you’ve got some new graphics. It looks…the pickle is starting at me.

Is it? Eh, it probably feels like it. I’ve been playing around on Canva after looking through other people’s accounts and masterlists. I’ve made some progress. The lists I’ve updated so far:

Dieter Bravo Masterlist (Betty liked this one so I’m leaving it as is.)

Frankie Morales Masterlist. (I found a side profile pic that screamed Frankie to me, I made it the largest picture.)

Joel Miller Masterlist (He screams to me that he drinks whiskey so it’s on his page also I edited the middle picture because you gotta understand how broad he is)

Dave York Masterlist (The Dave I wrote is a sadistic man who might be softening a little. I might have gotten a soft pic or two in there.)

What else have you been up to this week Nerdie?

Session Three of the Sard’ika Sessions went up. We’re half way through Space Buddies. I want to thank everyone who’s been reading and following along. Your comments and reblogs are always very sweet and have some great takes.

We did a Fic Authors Self rec this week in the tag games and we all gave five of our own fics we would recommend to readers. If you’re a writer and would like to do some signal boosting, you can try it out as well.

I was in the mood for some Dieter Bravo this week. I read quite a few fics with him in it and I somehow forgot that I had written a second chapter of my Dieter Bravo series that I started a couple months back. 😅 Yup, too many WIPs and not enough focus will do that.

The series is revolves around Dieter and our OFC Maya who is traveling to her younger brother’s destination wedding. She meets Dieter and chaos ensues. I made Dieter a goat papa and Dee may have an issue with the man who plays Poe Dameron. I won’t say his name because Dieter doesn’t react well to it at all.

Both chapters are on the Dieter Bravo Masterlist. I am working on chapter three. No clouds were harmed in the creation of the chapter.

How do you forget you started a series Nerdie?

Well, I kept reading others people’s fics, starting WIPs based off of different ideas and it fell off. I have three other series that are “paused” too. I haven’t had any ideas for them.

Plus I have two different challenges to work on and that are due soon.

What are those?

One is that pickle staring at you: The Pickled Peña challenge. Open to all writers who wanna try it. Have some fun trying to figure out a Peña pickle. Instructions are in the hyperlink above.

The other challenge is, well, involves Pedro characters, we were assigned one to get pegged. It’s the Peg That Middle Aged Man or PTMAM 2024. Go big, go forth and peg on! I think, but I have an outline. So, yeah… 😭 Totally on goal there.

We should know by know not to ask, it never goes where we think it’s gonna go. What else?

We spoke in our group about astrological signs. We had a very good discourse led by @goodwithcheese who told us what our sweaty palms looked like and gave us more insight. Pretty fun actually, I pondered I pondered hard.

I started another WIP (because it feels like I start a new one every 3 days) about Joel and Layla from my Sugar series. Them at Christmas, Joel spending more time with her family, what happened when he met them the first time, where they are now. The nylons will make a return, because I’m not sure I can see Joel without them now when I write him. It started out being @morallyinept ‘s fault but it’s all mine now. I won’t shift blame on that one.

Is there anything else Nerdie?

Just one more thing, I made volume 4 of my fanfic author recommendations so please check out their work and make sure to reblog. 😊

Stay warm, hydrated and safe,

Love Nerdie ❤️

[verymuchablog42]

Hello! I saw your post asking for songs, so here we are.

I like a bit of everything, but when I’m feeling down I like what I call “soft” music. Slow, calm songs. Show Me How, by Men I trust is a masterpiece. Makes me feel like I’m floating. And Sunsetz, by Cigarettes After Sex is just perfection.

If you like a tiny more movement, more action, Holy Ghost by Borns and Sweet Tooth by Maya Hawke are also great picks.

I hope you feel better soon. Please know you are not alone and reach out to someone if you ever need help ♥️

hi, thank you so much for taking the time to suggest some songs, i really appreciate it <3

i listened to Show Me How and Holy Ghost (both of which i hadn't heard before) and just really loved both of them. the bass line in Show Me How was really comforting in a way i can't really articulate, but loved. and then holy ghost had a gritty guitar that paired really well with the crisp snaps. i've never listened to either of these artists, so both of these recommendations were awesome, thank you!!

(i had listened to sunsetz before and agree it's definitely a vibe. and then i'm also a huge fan of maya's music and moss is one of my top ten albums of all time)

thank you so much for the song recs and the support i appreciate it more than i can put into words :)