#mine falls under the first category

[misterbrick42-slaytheprincess]

there are two types of STP aus:

you and the Princess are somewhere else

Some form of role reversal

please prove me wrong

[enha-files]

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[namism]

Hi! Can I request a Zoro x reader who's mihawks daughter, I think it would be a funny scenario bc he would have to get his approval first lol

with wine, zoro | roronoa zoro

➳ categories: canonverse, female reader

➳ word count: 1.9k

➳ summary: Who knew that the mysterious Dracule Mihawk had a daughter? Zoro certainly didn't, but now that he's fallen head over heels for her, he supposes he has to do something quickly.

➳ notes: i adore this request! this is by far the one fic of mine that i would proudly reread without cringing because it's funny 😭

➳ cross-posted on ao3

"Psst!"

Zoro looks to his left. Slowly, Perona floats past him with her stuffed animal Kumashi in one hand, the other holding her parasol.

"Where were you last night?" she asks.

Zoro ignores her and goes back to whatever he was working on.

"Were you outside again?" Persistent as ever, Perona floats in front of him and blocks his line of sight. "You must have visited that girl from the tower!"

"How do you know her?" Zoro snaps. Perona smiles to herself smugly.

"A-ha! I knew it! You and that girl are together, aren't you? You disappear so often, I can't believe I hadn't caught on until yesterday!"

Zoro grumbles under his breath. Walking past her, he asks Perona what she's bothering him for, to which she replies with her uniquely annoying laugh, one that Zoro has heard too many times over the course of the eight months they've been together on Kuraigana Island. Her Hollows fly around her as she bursts into a fit, bearing an expression of mockery on their translucent faces.

"Just bothering you," she answers. Zoro picks up the weights he was lifting moments ago and proceeds to ignore her again, but she continues to pester him. "What is she to you? A friend? A girlfriend?"

Zoro huffs in annoyance. "Why do you bother?"

"Because this island is boooring!"

"Find something to work on," he suggests.

It's Perona's turn to show her annoyance. Hovering over Zoro, she extends her arms and spreads out her fingers toward him.

"Negative Ho—!"

"She's a friend!" Zoro yells in panic. Perona stops her Hollow attack with a flick of a finger. "She's... special... can you get those stupid ghosts away from my face?"

"Wow. You aren't as unemotional as I thought." Blinking rapidly, Perona's hands fall to her waist. Zoro always seemed withdrawn like Mihawk, so she never pictured him as the type of guy to hold any romantic feelings for anyone.

A light blush coats Zoro's cheeks. He looks away shyly but composes himself apace. He can't be vulnerable in front of Perona—she would tease him for ages.

Perona has different plans, though. She would tease him if it were about anything else, but she's smack dab in the middle of nowhere, and her boredom convinces her to be more considerate than pesky. Besides, she's been annoying toward Zoro enough. It's time to compensate.

Using her powers, she conjures a Special Hollow and orders it to pick the swordsman in its mouth. Zoro drops his sword and flails his arms around helplessly. With a manic laugh, Perona flies to the castle with the Hollow trailing after her.

"Let's get you a girlfriend!"

Zoro didn't know what to expect when Perona dragged him back to Mihawk's shady castle, but the events that transpired were definitely not in his top 5 guesses.

Perona held him at gunpoint—just her Negative Hollows, really—and told him to list all the things he likes about you. When that didn't work because Zoro was too flustered to speak, she concocted the perfect plan that is guaranteed to win your heart over, should he execute it properly.

Right now, Zoro stands in front of you with his hands crossed over his chest. It's the morning of the plan's execution, but facing you brings him back to the first time he stepped foot in your dwelling.

Ever since he and Perona were teleported to Kuraigana Island eight months ago, he found himself exploring (or rather, getting lost around) the island that apparently housed Dracule Mihawk's residence. He lives in the abandoned castle of the now fallen Muggy Kingdom that stands in the middle of the dense forests, just a few kilometers away from a lone tower nestled in between the trees.

When Zoro explored (got lost) too far, he scouted the tower and found you there, sleeping peacefully. You shot up from your bed in panic and used your swords to attack, but Zoro had backed you into a corner. Afraid, you begged him for your life and proved your innocence.

Zoro had no business with a random girl he met on a random Tuesday, who was stuck in a random tower on a random island he was magicked into. Yet you eventually charmed him with your abilities, earning his trust and respect to a degree close to acquaintances. As time went by, you started getting flirtatious that crossed the line of "just friends," leading Zoro to feel a mutual fondness for you that he couldn't quite communicate.

That leads him to his current predicament. As he waits for your reply to his quiet confession, he prepares himself for what's to come.

"It doesn't take one to figure out that I'm fond of you, too," you tell him with a soft smile. "However, you have to ask someone first."

Zoro isn't surprised by your reciprocity, but he's surprised by the latter. Whose consent does he have to ask for?

"Who is it?"

"My father."

Zoro furrows his brows.

"You live alone."

"Well, yes! I live alone in the tower."

Suddenly, the front door of your home is kicked open. You turn on your heel to greet the visitor, while Zoro watches intently.

Mihawk appears at the doorway.

"Good morning, love. Sorry for my entrance. Are you in the middle of something?"

You run over to the man and help him with the bags of groceries in his arms. Hauling them over to the kitchen counter, you invite him inside the building.

"We were, but it's just Zoro. No big deal."

Mihawk looks at the swordsman, one eyebrow raising in curiosity at his presence.

Meanwhile, Zoro tries to understand what's happening. The fact that you know Mihawk isn't shocking since you've lived on the island your whole life, but being called 'love'? Zoro doesn't mean to be possessive, but he has a problem with that.

"I guess my student has become acquainted with my daughter," says Mihawk nonchalantly before helping you unpack your groceries.

At that moment, Zoro wishes to be eaten alive by the island mandrills.

What. The. Fuck. He thinks. Daughter?!

"Daughter?!" he repeats aloud.

"Mm-hmm! I don't live in the castle. This tower is far better than that ominous place." You hum to yourself. Looking at Mihawk, you grin sheepishly. "Sorry, Father."

"Doesn't matter. Your absence gave the ghost girl a room to her liking."

Nearby, Zoro hears a faint gasp.

Clasping your hands together, you approach Zoro slowly. You look at him with sincerity in your eyes, a look that has Zoro going crazy.

"Well, my father is here. Would you like to ask him now?"

But the admission of your relationship to Mihawk, his master, is far crazier. Zoro doesn't have the time to be wooed in by your cuteness because he feels like an idiot for not having caught on to this fact much earlier.

Your swordsmanship, your demeanor, your aptitude for many other things—Zoro understands it now. There is no questioning your abilities when you had genetically inherited them from someone. You're Mihawk's daughter, and you had always been.

"Is something the matter?" you ask softly.

Zoro loses the color on his face. He feels dizzy.

Floating right outside the tower's open window, Perona makes a face of surprise as she eavesdrops on the conversation.

"Shoot," she cusses quietly before flying away.

"I can't remember the last time I've witnessed anything more devastating than falling for your master's daughter," Perona ponders aloud, causing Zoro to glare at her as he nearly hyperventilates. "Calm down! We can do something about it!"

Zoro grits his teeth at Perona's poor attempt to cheer him up. Coming from the ghost girl who knows nothing but to attack people with her depressive powers, her optimism is anything but helpful.

"You said you spied on her a few times in the past. Did you not know this?!" Zoro shouts.

"Well, I'm sorry I didn't intrude enough!" Perona yells back. "You didn't even bother asking your girlfriend what her full name was! Ugh, you tire me out—you're unbelievable!"

After Perona fled the scene, Zoro followed in horror. He looked too disturbed that you offered to escort him back to the castle so that he could take a deep breath and process the situation. However, Zoro excused himself and instead ran down the spiral steps of your tower, disappearing into the forest that led him back to the castle.

Having reunited with Perona in her bedroom (that was apparently yours before she teleported to the island), Zoro admits that she has the right to insult him. Zoro never asked for your family name, and you never told him about it either. He thought you were an orphan since you had always lived alone, and it wasn't rare for people in the Grand Line to be secretive of their family.

Still, he feels like an idiot. Despite looking different from your father (you must have taken after your mother in appearance), you're incredibly trained with a sword, and you have a familiar aura around you. Zoro should have connected the dots together and theorized that you're Mihawk's daughter, but it's too late for that now.

He isn't mad by all means, but he curses the old man for not even telling him. He's been living under his roof for the past eight months, for goodness' sake!

Perona floats in front of him, twirling her hair.

"What are you going to do now?" she asks.

Zoro doesn't respond. He's clueless.

"Me either," she says. She flies around the room, thinking to herself. "Well, only a coward would accept defeat in courting a woman. Get back there and ask for her father's blessing!"

Zoro clenches his fists, his nails digging into the palms of his hands.

"Help me with something."

Many hours later, Mihawk comes back from his day visit at your tower. Tired from today's events, he decides to lock himself in his bedroom and take some time reading the newspaper over a glass of wine. To his dismay, he seems to have run out.

Thus, he immerses himself in the newspaper, wine-less, thinking it's good to cut down on the liquor for a while. In the middle of it, a knock sounds on his door, followed by a soft clink of glass. Mihawk waits for a minute to pass before standing up from his seat and peeking out the door to investigate the sound.

Whoever had knocked is now long gone. Instead, there sits by his foot a bottle of unopened wine and a piece of parchment. Mihawk collects the items and retreats to his bedroom.

He opens the bottle and pours himself a drink. Then, he settles back in his armchair and finishes the newspaper before picking up the parchment.

"A letter," he says to himself. He reads.

Thank you for taking me under your wing.

I'm sorry for running out earlier. I like her, and I stand by that.

Have this for now.

With wine, Zoro

Mihawk drops the letter on his lap and takes another sip. He laughs to himself.

The next day, he calls Zoro to his room as he reads the daily newspaper with careful sips of the gifted wine. As Zoro speaks, having swallowed his pride another time in front of the man, Mihawk leans back into his chair, seemingly pleased.

With wine or not, he was going to give his permission anyway.

[ask-the-rag-dolly]

okay . while i was writing the essay , i was going on a big spiel about how fandoms often reduce characters to familiar archetypes . then when i finished writing i realized i actually don't know what the Fuck i was yapping about because it all doesn't really apply to the tadc fandom post-ep 2 ? like Cool !! ragatha's an absolute loser of a woman , i think everyone has known that at this point .

basically ragatha's not the Best model for when i want to talk about nice characters being mischaracterized in fandom because i stopped seeing people making her put-together anyway . i can think of other characters that'll fit the thesis better .

i'm only deciding to post what i had down because i think i did say some stuff of note and because people were interested for . some reason ! . just keep in mind that it kind of became a nothingburger .

i'm in the middle of rewriting it to be less about the fandom though and my god it's already around 1118 words what am i doing with my life

also apologies in advance for the walls of text

——— this is not an essay to get you to like ragatha if you’re feeling meh towards her , or even dislike her . opinions are opinions , you have characters that appeal to you and i have mine ! this is just a ramblefest on why i love her , how people characterized her , and commentary on fandom culture as a whole

this is also not meant to bash any headcanons ! like good for you if you see her as the mother figure in the circus found family . the term ‘ mom friend ‘ here is used to describe how people often reduced her and similar characters down to a caretaker role for other characters while ignoring the Depth they have

as i think is clear in this blog by now , my favorite character in a piece of fiction has always been a mentally ill woman . the more complicated the brain , the better . i don’t have a type , but i know more often than not i would gravitate towards characters that are either misunderstood or disliked by most of the fandom

can you guess which category ragatha falls under —

don’t get me wrong , i am NOT generalizing tadc fans here ! the idea of her being a well-put together person lessened around episode 2 which is GREAT because i got to read very cool fics — and i’m not saying you have to know every part of ragatha’s thought processes to talk about her ( though at this point i think i’ve heard enough takes that makes me want to say that — )

‘ nice characters ‘ ( especially female ones ! ) in fandom never have the most pleasant development in my experience . either they will be pushed aside because they’re seen as boring compared to the more brasher characters or they’ll be disliked for the few times they did something seen as ‘ not so nice ‘ . and in the few times where they Are being paid attention , they’ll be put in an arbitrary box that waters down their traits .

in other words , fandoms put characters in boxes . terms like ‘ mom friend ‘ and ‘ cinnamon roll ‘ are those boxes . they're common tropes in media that fandoms typically like . it’s why people were so disappointed to find out that jax is actually an unlikable asshole instead of a ' jerk with a heart of gold ' — these boxes make the characters easy to consume and understand .

as you can tell , i don’t agree with putting characters in boxes ! first of all , how are they supposed to breathe in there ?

secondly , it’s just restricting yourself from genuinely engaging with a piece of media , especially for a character-driven story like tadc . i would be More forgiving of this problem if tadc was a plot-heavy show where the lore’s the main focus , but The Characters Are The Focus , Johnathan . trying to understand the characters personally to extract any potential moral lessons from them Is The Point of those types of stories

thirdly , i call those boxes arbitrary for a reason ; they often don't describe the characters at all , and in some cases , even goes against their characterization . my biggest problem with mom friend ragatha is that it Takes away the things that makes her interesting as a character .

do you know what's so compelling about ragatha ? it's that , believe it or not , she is Not the most reliable . one of the most fascinating things with ragatha in episode two is how it shows her approaching emotions Vs. Pomni approaching emotions .

even though it's unintentional , ragatha can be seen as Dismissive and Overbearing . the way she tried to reassure pomni of not feeling hurt by being left behind can seem Passive-Aggressive . her conversation with kinger shows that she Assumes what the other person thinks without hearing them out . this contrasts against pomni who lets gummigoo speak out his feelings and actually had viable things to say than ' don't worry about it haha '

this contrast is interesting to note because it shows the world of difference between ragatha and pomni's emotional maturity .

you can tell that ragatha can be simple-minded . not in a ' she's a dumbass ' way , but in that she's Reluctant to approach uncomfortable emotions without beaming it with a ray of positivity . like you can tell she thinks that Repressing her emotions to the point she can't feel them is the same as ' processing ' them . all of these are stuff that don't fit the Mature Mom Friend archetype .

and that's Fine !! because she was never meant to be in the role anyway !! there's a common theme of Community and Support in tadc , and that Everyone Has Each Other . ragatha was never meant to be the Glue holding everyone together , she's meant to be a part of the Unit that is the circus .

there's also a conversation to be had about how older female characters — or at least characters that are seen as having stereotypically ' feminine ' traits of being kind and caring — are often being pushed to a reductive , supportive familial role that reinforces gender roles , but you didn't hear it from me !

anyways uh in conclusion ragatha's awesomesauce ok i'm going back to drawing

[talesofadragon]

𝟓𝟎 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧

Summary: In a twist of fate, the seemingly heartless and enigmatic Draco Malfoy found himself falling deeply in love. His affection for Y/N knew no bounds, but he couldn't resist the temptation to test her patience. However, when he succumbs to the advances of a particular Slytherin girl, he soon realizes that he may have gotten more than he bargained for.

Warnings: Sexual themes. Minors DNI.

Pairing: Draco x Reader

Genre: Fluff | Smut  

Word count: 2.1K

All Masterlists | Draco Malfoy Masterlist

𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐰. Unapologetically and effortlessly, those people embrace the lackluster, emanating an aura that brings the moons and the stars of the universe to their knees. 

Draco Malfoy fell into that category. 

In the middle of the raging lights and the tumultuous fray, he sat back in the dark corner of the Slytherin Common Room, leisurely sipping a glass of Firewhiskey. At first glance, he was imposing. Veiny fingers, undoubtedly dexterous in their deathly ministrations. A chiseled jaw that commanded obedience from every man. And eyes that, although we’re mesmerizing pools of silver, held a hint of acidic intensity with every gaze.

Draco Malfoy was thought to be darkness in human form. Perhaps several individuals would concur, whether out of fascination or apprehension. But that was because none of them saw him through my eyes. 

In his nights, I saw the moon. In his shades of obsidian, I found depths unknown. In his prowess, I sought the nightjar, whose darkened plumage painted my soul with a mesmerizing array of vibrant hues.

And I despised, abhorred, anyone who dared to try and get close enough to bask in his glow.

“Y/N, sometimes I regret ever introducing you to Draco,” Clarissa remarked. I shot her an unimpressed glance. She continued dancing without missing a beat, leaving me the only one standing idle in the middle of a crowded room. “You have that devilish look in your eyes.” 

“Well, the she-devil has her eyes, and hands, all over him.” 

Clarissa's lips twitched, forming an amused grin. Her gaze shifted towards the girl with dark hair and an extremely form-fitting dress, which left little to the imagination, who shamelessly ran her hand along my boyfriend's arm.

“He’s not even looking at her.” 

“He’s letting her touch him!” 

“He’s not.” She rolled her eyes, brushing off the comment. One of her hands took mine, urging me to dance to the upbeat tone of the music that engulfed us. “He’s looking at you and is most likely enjoying getting under your skin.” 

“He’s being a dick,” I groaned in frustration. Clarissa was giving me her “well duh” expression. 

“He’s Draco. If you ask about him, you’ll have a porn site worth of dick picks and stories that perfectly describe your aggravating boyfriend.” 

I arched an eyebrow, subconsciously convincing myself that it was a common behavior and not something unique to Draco. “Remind me again what his relationship to your boyfriend is. Oh, that’s right, he’s his brother.” 

“Atlas is a sweetheart! Sometimes, I sincerely think he was adopted,” she argued. 

“Clearly not,” I countered. I nudged my head toward the table, catching sight of the girl in the navy dress leaning her body closer to my boyfriend’s chest. “If he’s licking his lips at the sight of that girl’s cleavage.” 

Clarissa whipped her head at the speed of light. I was surprised her neck didn’t snap. Her rage immediately molded into distaste when she noticed that Atlas wasn’t licking his lips as I said, but he was straining his neck, attempting to look away from the boob job that was begging for attention. 

“She’s a bitch.” 

“As am I,” I replied swiftly. Clarissa frowned, glancing back at me. By that time, the sound of my heels clicking against the marble floor had already begun, even though the music drowned out their noise.

Draco seemed impervious to the blaring musical notes as his silver eyes locked onto mine, capturing my movement. He had the audacity to smirk against the rim of his glass, going as far as to open the palm of his hand, indulging in the girl’s ministrations. 

Atlas, seated on the same couch as his brother but a few feet away, wore a bemused expression. He bit his lip, gaze wandering between me and Clarissa, who was trailing after me. 

As I crossed the two steps that separated me from my boyfriend, the harsh clicking of my heels echoed through the room. The blush on my cheeks seemed to mirror the hue of my dress, drawing attention toward me. Perfect, I inwardly mused, locking eyes with Draco. He observed my every move with his now grey irises, resembling a tempestuous landscape anticipating the thunder to unleash its chaos.

Confident and without a hint of hesitation, I made my way to his table, disregarding the curious onlookers, the girl with longing eyes, and even our friends. Choosing to ignore them all, I straddled his lap, allowing our lips to collide.

He must have expected my harshness or maybe my fire, but it was clear that he hadn’t anticipated my dominance. Draco Malfoy faltered, proved by the sound of the glass shattering on the floor and the shrieks of the nameless woman beside us. 

One of his hands fisted the fabric of my dress, clinging to the small of my back, while the other slithered into my hair. My hands, on the other hand, assaulted his neck. One wrapped itself around it while the other trekked down his collarbone, swiftly uncaging the second button of his shirt. 

As expected, Draco tried to dominate the kiss, attempting to force my tongue into submission. And while on a regular day, when my body was electrified by the dominance of his touch and my consciousness succumbed to the pressure of his pleasuring body, I would have relented. Today was anything but a regular one. 

I pushed past the overwhelming ecstasy that clouded my racing thoughts, attempting to transform them into incoherent murmurs, and assaulted Draco’s tongue. His hands began to trail my body, the one in my hair errantly moving towards my own neck. 

Immediately, I tightened my hold around his neck, restricting him further from the air we both so desperately craved. He gasped, hands falling to my waist and clutching me tighter. I teased him, bringing my lips close to his, allowing him to steal the breath coming out of my own mouth and greedily take it for himself. 

It lasted no more than two seconds because I knew this was a punishment and not a reward. I dove in again. Tongue-first, exploring the walls and ceiling of his mouth. Draco couldn’t keep his own tongue at bay, and I didn’t want him to. Before he could coax me into accepting his sensual offer, I let go of his lower lip and sucked on his tongue. 

Draco moaned. A sound that was both undiluted and unrestrained; I was sure he had forgotten where he was. His hips jolted, searching for friction. And when I didn’t grant it willingly, his hand found my thighs and hoisted me up until I was shamelessly grinding on him. 

“Moan for me,” he commanded huskily, voice breaking at the seams from being a captive of pleasure. 

I didn’t just want to moan. I wanted to roar from the way his crotch caressed my clothed pussy, squeezing the juices out of me and letting them trail down my thighs. 

But I didn’t. “Moan for me,” I rebuked, letting my fingers cradle the nape of his neck, pulling on his silver locks. Another moan rippled through the air, reaching my clit. And I knew if I didn’t stop any time soon, I would be the one moaning and begging on this very couch. “Good boy.” 

Draco’s eyes widened at the remark, his sharp eyes piercing mine. Immediately, I let go of him, standing up.

I dusted my dress, adjusting the neckline which almost exposed my breasts completely. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there,” I commented with feigned innocence. This particular area only had a handful of students huddled around, and the one closest to us was a mere few feet away. The girl beside my boyfriend, Pansy Parkinson, didn't need an education to understand that I was directing my words at her.

Her jaw ticked, breath coming out ragged—maybe she was having a sex marathon in her head, getting off on the thought of my boyfriend and me. “I wish I hadn’t seen you at all,” she conceded, hastily scurrying away.

As she left, I saw Clarissa standing behind me. A shadow of confusion crossed over her features, quickly replaced by amusement. “Well, now that she’s gone. Why don’t we give Draco a few minutes to hide that bulge he’s sporting? Atlas, wanna dance?” 

“After what just happened, I won't let any chance slip away to have you close to me, Clares.” He wasted no time getting up. He side-eyed his brother for a moment, unable to hide his smirk. “Here.” Atlas reached out for his Elf Wine, extending it to Draco. “You look flushed. Why don’t you cool off a bit like a good boy?” 

Ignoring our collective laughter, Draco swatted the glass away from his face. He regarded me with an air of irritation, his pupils heavily dilated. 

“Remember when I warned you that it’s much harder for men to mask their wants? Bet you wish you were less of a dick now,” I taunted, earning myself a loud cheer from Atlas and an uproarious laugh from Clarissa. 

Draco had yet to say anything, and I knew he was meticulously considering the retributions he would inflict upon me for this audacious move. But I didn’t care. With a skip in my step, I turned around and strutted away. But before I could make my grand escape, a hand firmly wrapped around my wrist, halting my movements. In the blink of an eye, I was flung onto the couch, landing right where my boyfriend had been sitting just seconds before.

“Draco!” Atlas chastised. He was already taking a step forward, visibly astounded by his brother’s brisk action. Even Clarissa was worried. 

But I wasn’t. 

Draco didn’t spare either of them a glance as he let his gaze fall onto mine. The pools of silver were sizzling, menacing, and fierce—ready to consume me whole. But they were also lustrous, encasing ardent desire. And I found myself getting far more aroused than afraid by the visceral passion they exuded. 

Draco took three meaningful steps toward me, his agile strides reminding me that I was the prey to his snake. He stopped at a short distance, letting one of his hands extend to the back of the couch while the other casually reached for an abandoned shot on our table. 

“Open that sinful mouth of yours, Y/N.” I obeyed. Because if I didn’t, I would self-combust. Screw whatever punishment the devil has for me. I would take it without another word if it meant relieving some of that desire between my legs. “Good girl. Take it all, but don’t you dare swallow yet,” Draco demanded as he filled my mouth with the electrifying drink. 

My eyes welled up, stinging from the searing pain that consumed my mouth and pierced my heart, yet I resisted the urge to close them. Draco disregarded the empty shot glass and tenderly stroked my cheek with his free hand. The weight of the onlookers' gazes bore down on us, but I felt a profound sense of gratitude that the Malfoys were influential and esteemed enough that no one would dare intervene in what they were witnessing.

I squeaked when Draco took my cheek between his fingers and forced the burning drink outside of my mouth. I could feel my heart shuddering as the liquid trailed down my neck to my chest and the valley of my breasts. 

I couldn’t stop staring at Draco while desperately clenching my thighs. Of course, he was too engrossed with the trek the alcohol was taking down my body. 

“Draco,” I whined, practically begging for his touch. The bastard smirked, ever so slowly coming closer. 

“Starshine,” he breathed against my breasts. Immediately, his hand sneaked down, reaching for my thighs. His fingers dug deep into my skin. I moaned, then I cried out in pleasure when his tongue darted out of his mouth, tracing the remains of the alcohol all the way from my chest to my mouth. He hovered over my lips, his silent exhale caressing my mouth. “If I were any less of a dick, I’m sure you’d still cry out for me.”

He pushed himself off my body, the sheer abruptness of his actions causing me to wince. “Wh—”

“Go dance, Y/N,” he said. No, he dared. It was obvious what he was doing. Bold and bright in the middle of the night. He knew I needed him, craved him. And he reveled in the thought. 

So, I did what any sane woman would do. I straightened my hair, fixed my clothes, and rushed to his arms. “I wanna dance with you,” I whispered against his lips. He met mine in a sensual dance, and before I knew it, he was already leading me out of the Common Room and into his arms.

Draco Taglist:

@imabee-oralizard @ameliaphoenix @arcana-greenleaf @dittos-blog-dylanobrien

So this happened unexpectedly. Slightly inspired by that one scene from Culpa Mia (My Fault). Hope y’all like it.💚

[yourpenpaldee]

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ WRITEBLR INTRODUCTION.

I don't usually put myself out there as it makes me nervous. But I've been a lurker for way too long, and it's about time I step out of my comfort zone. So, hello! I'm Dee (she/her), twenty-two, and have found my voice with storytelling.

Writing has always been a passion of mine, and continues to be the tool I turn to when I need an outlet to freely express myself. I have, unfortunately, hit a rough patch with consistency, and I'm here to bring all of that motivation and inspiration back. Especially since there are one too many WIPs sitting on the backburner, and they're all calling my name.

As someone who loves to dip their toes into every genre of fiction, I will read anything that peaks my interest. However, when it comes to creating, my works usually fall under romance and mystery. With practice, I intend on branching out into other genres I don't write often. There's a lot to explore in the world of writing, and I don't want to limit myself to only two categories.

Creating this blog provides me the space I need to accomplish the many goals I often dream of achieving. I acknowledge that it all starts with the ability to hold myself accountable. To show up for myself. To become comfortable with the uncomfortable. Putting myself and my projects out into the world is only the first of many steps, and it feels quite liberating.

I aim to use the voice I've found to not only contribute to the progression of POC representation, but to touch on several topics that remain heavily stigmatized in today's media. There’s a joy that runs through my veins every time I see someone like me on my screen or in a book. I feel seen, heard, and proud. I feel important. But as a creator, there’s that itch that can only be scratched when I create. When I make something that lets the next person know that they’re not invisible. That they're valued, loved, and appreciated. That's what I hope for when someone reads a project of mine. For them to feel the same rush of joy flowing through them as it does me.

Wow, I’m a yapper. I'd like to close this intro off with some fun facts, so here are some of my top five favorites with sidenotes because I still want to yap a bit more about the things I adore.

SOLO ARTISTS:

ARI LENNOX ✧ ˚ · . CHOCOLATE POMEGRANATE — GET CLOSE — GOAT — POF — UP LATE

HALSEY ✧ ˚ · . 100 LETTERS — I HATE EVERYBODY — NIGHTMARE — ROMAN HOLIDAY — THE LIGHTHOUSE

HOPE TALA ✧ ˚ · . CHERRIES — EDEN — I CAN'T EVEN CRY — LEAVE IT ON THE DANCEFLOOR — SUNBURN

MELANIE MARTINEZ ✧ ˚ · . ALPHABET BOY — DEAD TO ME — EVIL — NOTEBOOK — STRAWBERRY SHORTCAKE

HALIMA ✧ ˚ · . DOWNTOWN — FORD CARDINAL — IF LOVE WAS GREEN — SAMANTHA — TALK

BANDS:

5 SECONDS OF SUMMER ✧ ˚ · . AIRPLANES — BETTER MAN — KILL MY TIME — LONG WAY HOME — TEARS!

FALL OUT BOY ✧ ˚ · . BANG THE DOLDRUMS — CHICAGO IS SO TWO YEARS AGO — HEADFIRST SLIDE INTO COOPERSTOWN ON A BAD BET — NOBODY PUTS BABY IN THE CORNER — WHERE DID THE PARTY GO

FLO ✧ ˚ · . CARDBOARD BOX — FLY GIRL — IMMATURE — SUITE LIFE (FAMILIAR) — WALK LIKE THIS

PARAMORE ✧ ˚ · . BIG MAN, LITTLE DIGNITY — CAUGHT IN THE MIDDLE — FRANKLIN — MISGUIDED GHOST — PART II

THE INTERNET ✧ ˚ · . DONTCHA — HOLD ON — LOOK WHAT U STARTED — SOMTHING'S MISSING — SPECIAL AFFAIR

GAMES:

CORAL ISLAND ✧ ˚ · . IF I START LISTING NAMES, I'M GOING TO MENTION EVERYONE. BUT I'M A LOYAL MARK GIRL. AND NOAH... AND MILLIE, EVA, BEN, Y—

DISNEY DREAMLIGHT VALLEY ✧ ˚ · . THIS IS SUCH A COMFORT GAME THAT SOOTHES MY INNER CHILD.

DON'T STARVE [TOGETHER] ✧ ˚ · . I MAY OR MAY NOT STILL SUCK AT THIS GAME AFTER A SOLID THREE YEARS, BUT I'M A WIGFRID MAIN.

STARDEW VALLEY ✧ ˚ · . I LOVE SEBASTIAN AND LEAH, AND I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL IF I HAVE TO.

THE SIMS 4 ✧ ˚ · . WHERE I SPEND A LOT MORE TIME IN CREATE-A-SIM AND BUILD MODE COMPARED TO PLAYING THE ACTUAL GAME.

TROPES:

FAKE RELATIONSHIP ✧ ˚ · . MHM... JUST SAY YOU LIKE EACH OTHER ALREADY.

FATED MATE ✧ ˚ · . I'M A BIT PICKY ABOUT THIS TROPE THOUGH. THINGS TEND TO MOVE VERY QUICKLY BUT I ENJOY IT NONETHELESS.

FRIENDS TO LOVERS ✧ ˚ · . A CLASSIC THAT DOESN'T NEED AN EXPLANATION.

REUNION ✧ ˚ · . ESPECIALLY IF THEY WERE CHILDHOOD FRIENDS AND THEY REMINISCE OLD MEMORIES, OH MY GOODNESS. I EAT THIS TROPE UP EVERY TIME.

SLOWBURN ✧ ˚ · . NO DOUBT THIS IS MY MOST FAVORITE TROPE. THE BUILDUP TO EVEN THE TINIEST PIVOTAL MOMENT ALWAYS MAKES MY HEART THUMP.

TV SHOWS:

CRIMINAL MINDS ✧ ˚ · . YES, I’LL WATCH ALL 16 SEASONS FOR THE MILLIONTH TIME AND FALL IN LOVE WITH PRENTISS EACH TIME. WE WERE ALSO ROBBED OF BEARDED HOTCH CONTENT.

BRIDGERTON ✧ ˚ · . DO I CRY EVERY TIME I WATCH GEORGE AND CHARLOTTE'S STORY? YES. WILL I CONTINUE TO REWATCH IT AND RECITE THE LINES EVERY TIME SOMETHING REMINDS ME OF IT? ASOLUTELY.

THE BEAR ✧ ˚ · . I WISH I KNEW OF AYO EDEBIRI BEFORE THIS SHOW BECAUSE THAT WOMAN IS AMAZING??? LIKE, HELLO???

THE EQUALIZER ✧ ˚ · . *mini spoiler* STILL CAN'T STOP THINKING OF DANTE'S GRIN WHEN HE GOT TO SEE MEL, ROB, AND HARRY'S LITTLE WORK SPOT FOUR SEASONS LATER.

SWEET MAGNOLIAS ✧ ˚ · . HELEN, MADDIE, AND DANA SUE IS HOW I PICTURE MY FRIENDS AND I IN THE FUTURE. MARGARITA NIGHTS, BEING AUNTIES TO EACH OTHER'S CHILDREN, UGH. I LOVE THEM WHOLEHEARTEDLY.

And that concludes this introduction on me and this blog. I would love to connect and befriend other authors, so please don't hesitate to reach out as my DMs will always be open! I'd love to support and read your works, so don't be hesitant to share them with me if you'd like.

I hope you all will enjoy reading my works as much as I enjoy the process of bringing my ideas to life.

divider creds to strangergraphics ♡

[mirims1997]

A Line Crossed

Summary: Following the Pr written statement released by Ashlyn, Bellingham’s new love interest, Jude Bellingham finds himself in the midst of media scrutiny. In an attempt to save his image, his mom hires a sharp Pr agent who takes over to fix Jude’s tarnished reputation and along the way ends up mending his heart.

————————————————————————

Chapter 2: Mutual (Dis)like?

Sitting alone with Jude and Denise in a conference room usually exclusive for HR is beyond nerve-wrecking. I go through the pages provided by my Media researcher silently as Denise scrolls through her phone and Jude sends daggers my way. I can understand the apparent dislike but he is too relentless with it. I lift my head, hold his gaze for a second, a poor attempt at making peace after that tense first interaction, and smile. He reciprocates the gaze but not the smile. I hold his gaze a tad longer and something almost imperceptible shifts in his face as he scratches his newly grown beard and looks away.

“Ashlyn Castro, can you elaborate on how you met and the nature of your relationship?”

This seems to snap Denise out of her reveries as she puts down her phone, glances at me then at Jude expectantly. His eyes meet mine in a mastered nonchalance, something I am quite familiar with.

“We met at a night club. She approached me. I liked her physique. Slept with her 4 times in a row in one night. Liked the experience enough to reach out again. Yeah. Great in bed, she is.” I scoff internally at the disgusting display of male ego and at how typical of a narrative this story makes: a footballer falling for a model because of how attractive she looks and how well she fucks.

“is the nature of the relationship you have now what you had in mind at the start or is it collateral damage?” I had to ask, because I cannot seem to place this man in a clear cut category and that doesn’t sit well with me. For once, I can feel nerves emanating from him. He doesn’t feel comfortable disclosing that in front of his mother.

“Ms Bellingham, can we have a moment of privacy?” Denise’s eyes widen at my bluntness but she collects her bag, moves past me and in a surprising gesture, squeezes my shoulder on her way out.

Now sitting alone with just Jude, the room made for a full board of agents seems a lot tighter. He doesn’t answer me for a while. Instead, he stares me down once again so intensely I can feel the heat of his gaze warm the back of my neck. He stands up, moves from his seat at the far end of the table across from me and saunters to the closest spot possible, the chair next to mine. He sits down, turns towards me, manspreads and speaks in a voice much lower and rougher. “You asked my mother to leave. That got me comfortable, you know? I hope you can deal with how at ease I can be under the right circumstances.” His attempt at throwing me off my game is quite interesting. What I cannot see is why he would try at all. Was it my domineering “sit down” that annoyed him so much or the loss of control my question brought him? I have two options and my choice will be decisive when it comes to the nature of the rest of our transaction. It’s either I set rigid limits, keep him at arms length and by extension have him be guarded and uncooperative or I play by a different set of rules and I get what I want. I can feel his stare burning my side profile as I look forward and contemplate on how to proceed with him. What throws me off and makes me admittedly nervous is the twisted effect he seems to have on me. How is it that I am under his scrutiny while my job is to have him under mine? Jude seems to be more assertive and commanding than I gave him credit for. I turn my chair so abruptly towards him and he doesn’t see it at all because his eyebrows lift so slightly and he lets out a breath I didn’t know he was holding this whole time.

“Jude. I can deal with everything. That is why I am here and not one of my 85 colleagues. Now, how do you want this to go? You answer my question and we build on that or you continue this poor nonchalant act and I get information, be it right or wrong, my own way?” For once, Jude’s face consorts in a genuine smile. I can feel a blush creep up my cheeks.

“For someone young as you seem to be, you sure have a knack for getting things your own way. Do you not? As for your question. It was neither. It is true that I did not want to date Ashlyn but I did want to continue sleeping with her. She satisfies me plenty and her moans tell me I do the same.” What a peacock! I can feel my blush intensify at how casual and shameless he is about everything, talking about intimacy as one would about weather or the price of petrol.

“So you want to continue having that with her but under the guise of a relationship? Does she consent to this?”

“She does. It is mutually beneficial for both of us. I get the judgment-free sex. She gets the fame and the privilege of being Jude Bellingham’s girlfriend. Win win? Right?” He grins at me like he wasn’t straight out plotting my death with his eyes few minutes ago. Sierra would absolutely eat this up.

“I will call your mom back in. I believe I have everything I need.” I stand up to gather my things and he just sits there, back at it with following my every move without a care about being caught staring. I exist the room with his eyes now stuck inside my head.

————————————————————————-

“JUDE freaking Bellingham? That’s why they called for? Bernando is fuming he wasn’t picked and I am too but for totally different reasons! He is so hot. You are so lucky! What does he smell like? I bet he is minty!” Sierra squeals in my ear the moment I come back to our shared office.

“Sierra, stop squealing. You are 31!” Not even that shut her up. “Age is just a number babe. How is he like? Do you reckon he could get us tickets at the Bernabeu? 5 years working in Madrid and I’ve never been!”

“He pretends to be a nice and charming lad, but he is conceited and thinks he can bend the world and wind to his wishes. A typical a list celebrity. This is my own judgment so far. Nothing else I can disclose about him or why he is here. Sierra, protocol.” That seems to be enough to keep her silent for the next few minutes.

Bernando is a totally different story. We cross paths in the hallway on my way out and he pretends to be busy on his phone to avoid any communication with me. Another great win today.

————————————————————————-

Finding Cookie the moment I unlock the door is perhaps the only normal and grounding thing about today and everyday. I immediately reach for her and she climbs my legs and meows her way to my arms. “We met Jude Bellingham today kitten. And he is an A list asshole.” I carry her to her spot on the couch and leave her there. I freshen up, prepare a chamomile tea and open the balcony door. Golden hour, my favorite time of the day. It is mind-blowing how it is never less beautiful than the day before it. A creature of habit, I often find myself craving to be loved the same way I admire the golden hour, never decreasing with days, always worshipped with the same intensity.

One of the best perks about my apartment is that even though it is as dull as they get on the inside, its view is beyond magnificent. A year ago, I wouldn’t have thought that I’d be here in Madrid, looking at the city from above, in my own place whose rent I can easily afford with the money I make myself from working at my dream company and excelling at my job.

My phone interrupts my reveries. I can hear Cookie scurrying away. My cat hates my ringtone and runs away everytime my phone rings near her. I feel the same but I, unlike her, just can’t take such liberties.

“Mrs. Renée, I hope all is well?” Mrs Renée is the kind of boss who nearly never calls you outside of working hours, which is something I tremendously appreciate but which also means that it must be extremely important.

“Ms Gibran, I am calling to congratulate you on your great success in securing the Bellinghams. They seem to think you are the perfect fit for what they are looking for. However, I must inform you that Denise would be expecting you to be on call more often than we are used to. This means that invitations to certain events, daily emails, calls and regular updates in the context of meetings are part of your job. Our company will be flexible when it comes to your office schedule as this task will be your priority moving on. Do you have any questions or qualms?”

“Not at all. I would love to help the company as much as possible. Thank you for the opportunity.”

“Good. The Bellinghams have your number, your socials and your email. This will facilitate your communication.” I nearly gasp at the word socials, because despite the fact that our line of work is basically all about that, I try my best to keep my socials out of it. I guess there goes my privacy too.

“Oh and Miriam, you will be meeting Ashlyn in the next few days. I believe you made this request?”

“Yes I did. Thank you for cooperating.”

“Perfect. Good night” because I could get a response in, Renée has already hung up. The realization that I will technically be the Bellinghams’ shadow for fuck knows how long hit me like a track. I need to take a walk.

————————————————————————

Madrid’s streets are always busy. At times it suffocates, and at others, it liberates me. I head to a small pastry shop that sells the best Ensaimada. To reduce anxiety, I’ve learned, sugar is the way. I pick up two Ensaimada and an espresso and continue my walk to my secret spot, La Quinta de los Molinos park. I come here often to find my much needed peace and quiet. It is usually empty, especially at night and that thrills me. An intrusive thought throws me off. All of a sudden, Jude is in my head. I think of him and how his fame has robbed him of a lot of simple pleasures like eating an ensaimada on a good night in a random park.

I pull out my sketchbook and start drawing. I often indulge in non reflective sketches. I let my pencil does the drawing and the thinking. Without any conscious decision, I find myself carefully carving Jude’s jawline. His bone structure, majestic noise, and piercing eyes make of him any painter’s dream muse.

A ball hits my head so fast I feel disoriented. I close my notebook and prepare to rage against whoever came between my art and I.

“¡Madre mía, qué carajo…”

“Sorry Miriam, mistimed my pass.” This cannot be real. What the hell is he doing here? Did I just manifest him through art? What the hell, universe?

I lift my head slowly and Jude is just standing there wearing a hoodie big enough to cover his entire face and my embarrassment if he is willing to take it.

“Darling, would you care to join me for a drill?”

————————————————————————

Hello Jude Girlies! A new update! Let me know what you think of this story and this new chapter! Looking forward to reading your comments ❤️

Until the next update! 🤍

[ribb0ngirl]

𝑚𝑦 𝑔𝑢𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝑜𝑛 𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑣𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎 𝑡𝑜𝑥𝑖𝑐 𝑓𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑦 ౨ৎ

by a girl living in a shitty household for my girls (or guys, nonbinaries, etc.) living in shitty households ♡

𝑑𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑡𝑟𝑦 𝑡𝑜 𝑐𝚑𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒 𝑡𝚑𝑒𝑚

♡ Trying to change people who don't want to change or don't even acknolledge the fact that they have to change is literally pointless. Instead, try to focus on what you can control, such as how you respond to your parents, your choices, and your behavior.

𝑏𝑒 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑓𝑢𝑙 𝑤𝑖𝑡𝚑 𝑤𝚑𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝚑𝑎𝑟𝑒

♡ Trust is a crucial element of healthy relationships, so consider only sharing personal information with those who have proven themselves trustworthy. Your parents probably don't fall under this category if they:

gossip about you

criticize you

share things about you without your permission

use what you tell them against you

You don't have to tell them everything (or anything) that's going on in your life. Only share mundane stuff if your parents are nosy (like mine)

𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘 𝑎𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑠' 𝑙𝑖𝑚𝑖𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠

♡ So an example of this could be: If you know that your parents become forgetful, aggressive, or otherwise difficult after a certain time of day, try to interact with them earlier in the day to avoid the worst of their behavior. But this doesn't mean that you should plan your life around your parents. You can work around their limitations if that works for you. Always put yourself first in this situation.

𝚑𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑎𝑛 𝑒𝑥𝑖𝑡 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑔𝑦

♡ When things start to take a turn for the absolute worse have a plan to leave, like an excuse. Obviously don't use the same one every time but here are a few:

homework/studying

a chore (washing the dishes, cleaning your room, etc.)

friend hangout you're late to

errand

Personally I totally overuse having homework or studying

𝑑𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑎𝑟𝑔𝑢𝑒 𝑜𝑟 𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑘 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘

♡ I know how tempting it is to want to yell at your parents, talk back or straight up disagree or correct them when they are clearly in the wrong. But I've learned the hard way that it makes your life so much easier if you just suck it up, I know it sucks but just go along with what they say, that way the aftermath won't be that bad or not even bad at all.

𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓

♡ Dealing with toxic parents can be stressful. That stress can take a toll on your physical and mental health. It’s important that you make self-care a priority.

𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑤 𝑡𝚑𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝚑𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑜𝑟 𝑜𝑓 𝑡𝑜𝑥𝑖𝑐 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑡𝚑𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑜𝑛 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑢𝑛𝚑𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠, 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑦 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑛𝑔 ♡

[ceilidho]

forced throuple (soap/ghost/reader)

i've been ruminating on this idea for awhile, that basically after the Alone campaign and after getting out of Las Almas, Ghost more or less decided that Soap is his person. sort of like his pack. and it's only obvious that anyone Soap considers family would also get lumped into his pack as well.

Ghost doesn't keep very many people close - even those that he considers close (Price, Gaz, Roach, etc), he keeps at something of a distance. this is exemplified by the way he still clings to the possibility of betrayal (like telling Soap that "people you trust can hurt you the most"), but after Las Almas, I think something flips in him.

There's a switch that's been off for years, maybe even close to a decade, and it flips back online when he finds this man that trusts him without question, that follows his orders and looks up at him with these big, puppy blue eyes and it twists something in his chest. I don't think he would've even had something like that before, definitely not during his youth when he was still overcoming his childhood trauma and certainly not after everything that lead up to Simon becoming Ghost.

I don't even think Ghost would be particularly upset if Soap came back from leave one day with a girlfriend; he trusts Soap's judgment completely. And once he sees her for himself, pretty as pie tucked under his sergeant's arm (all small and doe eyed, smart as a whip when she opens her mouth), all that does is confirm his assumption.

It takes approximately eight seconds for Ghost's brain to file her under "mine", slotting her right under Johnny in that category and isn't that just perfect because it also takes approximately eight seconds for Ghost to imagine what she might look like under Johnny.

Soap would be distinctly uncomfortable at first. There's a fine line between having Ghost's undivided attention (and oh, he eats it up at first, struts around with his chin cocked just a bit higher than usual because he knows everyone else is watching him with equal parts envy for being Ghost's favourite and abject curiosity/horror) and having Ghost's....complete....undivided....attention.

Like Soap just wants to parade his new girlfriend around (she's sweet but snippy, everything he's ever wanted in a partner) in front of his colleagues, but then Ghost gropes her ass in front of everyone on base (because by then, Ghost has already started to think of the two of them as 'his' in his head) and Soap just stares, mouth dry, absolutely humiliated but no idea what to do (he's just thinking over and over again, "Do I tell him to stop, what do I DO??")

Because Ghost is his buddy, his best friend, his CO - Soap trusts Ghost implicitly, would put his whole life in his hands and know that Ghost would keep him safe.

So he doesn't get it at first? Maybe he thinks Ghost is actually interested in his girlfriend and it wrecks him because Soap can see himself really falling for this girl, but Ghost is also like - he's a part of him. He probably briefly does consider just letting Ghost have her, conceding defeat.

Ghost would correct that assumption soooo quick. There isn't a version of him that wants someone who doesn't also want Johnny. Inconceivable. After everything that they've been through together, the root of him and what he wants is inextricably tied with what Soap wants - he almost wishes he could live inside his head, just a constant stream of Johnny's thoughts into his.

Like Soap genuinely likes having all of Ghost's attention on him because he's a bit of an attention whore but it's a bit different when his LT is holding his head down into his girlfriend's pussy and telling him exactly how to rub his tongue over her clit.

Worse because Ghost's hand curls around his cock when he guides him through it, slick with lube. Almost too tight at first, clearly mimicking the way Simon likes to jerk himself off, even though Johnny prefers a slightly looser grip, a little slower, more indulgent.

Worse still when Ghost positions Soap over her, big hands on his hips and Soap has never felt like he had narrow hips until this very second. Lube drizzled over the furl of his entrance and his head spinning, staring down into his girlfriend's eyes as she watches the two of them wide eyed, still so anxious and it makes him want to sooth her, coo down at her that he's got her and everything's going to be just fine, but that thought is snipped right out of him when Simon lines himself up and presses in and his vision just goes white.

This whooollleeeee au is basically "when a bigger, stronger guy hits on ur gf but it's ok bc he also wants to plow u (her boyfriend)"

[lycorisketch]

Affogato Cookie Rant

Ok everyone @doomteensy asked about Affogato Cookie Headcanons and I'm gonna explain mine. Strap in this is a rollercoaster now.

(While I did playthrough the game, read the wiki, and try to ingest as much info as possible, there are chances I have missed information. Please bear with me here)

We know canonically Affogato was a resident of the Coffee Village (as is mentioned in his dialogue for his first ascension “The Coffee Tribe? I barely remember my time there…”). We also know via episode 13 when players first enter the Dark Cacao Kingdom that the Coffee Village has long since been abandoned and was left in ruins (If you have Espresso in your party when you visit the village you’ll learn that the Coffee Tribe left a long time ago.) Affogato was likely just a child when the village was abandoned (most likely falling to monsters in the area, as the only other individuals of Coffee Tribe descendent we meet are Affogato (Who is the only coffee cookie we see in the Dark Cacao Kingdom) and Espresso (Who is actually from a line of coffee cookies in the Creme Republic, likely a family branch who moved there sometime before the fall of the tribe).

The fact we only see a few coffee cookies in basically the entire game (I’m not counting Latte since that heritage is unknown) one of which is not from the Coffee Village, it’s not hard to believe that most residents were wiped out and hadn’t simply “left” as Espresso said. The Coffee Tribe residents are mentioned to be very agile and can go days without sleeping, making them good as scouts, infiltrators, and messengers for the Kingdom, yet Affogato is the ONLY one we see in the Dark Cacao Kingdom in game. No others are even mentioned.

In Affogato’s loading screen text it mentions that he had left home Affogato wandered the land and learned a lot about magic and witchcraft. It says “left” but if we consider what likely happened to the village its more likely he fled, then found solace in magic and witchcraft. It’s possible he found a group of shamans or other magic users who he then learned from, hence his strange concoctions and mysterious chants (it’s possible he learned these from individuals not originally of the Dark Cacao Kingdom, hence the words “mysterious” and “strange”.)

Note: Shamanism, referred to as mu-ism or musok in Korea, was an influential religion prior to Joseon-era Korean (Which the Dark Cacao Kingdom's design/culture was influenced by) when Confucianism became the state religion. The reason that Affogato's concotions and chants may be viewed as strange is because of a lack of practioners in the kingdom, or possibly that he is practicing a type of shamanism that has elements influenced by a different culture such as Buddhism or Daoism that are not common to the Dark Cacao Kingdom at that time. (Note: This is a fictional game that is not 100% real world accurate, Affogato's practices may be noted as mysterious or strange simply to mark him as an outlier in the kingdom, but for the sake of my ramblings I want to note possible explainations based on reality. They also note that Affogato uses witchcraft, so whatever they drew inspiration from for that also likely influences the shamanism rites he may perform). It is entirely possible that Affogato's village has practioners of musok within it (likely hereditary as was common) and that after it's destruction he was the last remaining practioner. (Sidenote: Practioners of musak were typically female and referred to as mudang. This could explain why Affogato takes on a more feminine appearance).

Otherwise Affogato would have become a baksu (male shaman) during his time after the tribe's destruction as I noted before, though for this to have happened he would have to be an initiated shaman. He may even fall under the category of shaman called a posal, a sub-type of mudang who had a spiritual experience but is not worthy to perform orthodox rites. If he falls under this sub-type it may have influenced his self-worth and drive for comfort, not seeing himself as good enough in the eyes of his religion. (Also despite my searching I still cannot find any reason Affogato refers to the Roman Goddess Fortuna so frequently. My only guess for linking it to his practices is that he wants good luck to oppose possible soul loss (chronic bad luck is a sign of soul loss in shamanism which can cause illness)).

We can’t be sure what drives Affogato completely but we know he wants to live a life of comfort, mentioning in one dialogue that he’s spent his whole life on his knees, and now even with a seat it’s still not comfortable. This implies he lived poorly in the past, likely in his time after fleeing the village, though perhaps even before. Living out in a snowy climate without proper protection, especially as a young child, can be devastating on one’s health. Even wearing many layers, Affogato might still feel a chill of cold that will never leave his bones. Any illness or injuries he sustained during that time likely weren’t treated quickly or well (unless he found help as I suggested he might have when encountering whoever taught him his witchcraft) leaving lasting damage to him.

He’s greedy and enjoys sugar, something he might not have had the luxury of enjoying much before. He’s also shown to enjoy eating more than others, possibly due to the aforementioned poor life prior to becoming Dark Cacao’s retainer. Though he does share in his momentary success of taking the throne by throwing a feast with his disciples. (I believe it’s likely because he doesn’t want to see others “starve” when he has the power to ensure they eat well. Likely trauma from watching his village fall around him and then being alone in the snowy land of the kingdom.)

Based on what we can see of Affogato’s body (which is not a lot) he appears to have a more feminine body type or appearance (regardless of his presented gender), which, mixed with a poor upbringing would lend to a smaller or thinner body size. He presents as someone possibly physically weaker than other residents of the kingdom, even females like Caramel Arrow look strong in how they present themselves.

Also if he did receive help from a group of shamans or others, he likely learned to make medicines and incense that could help any lasting ailments he might have.

TLDR; I think Affogato is prone to sickness, is actually quite physically weak, and hides it with his many clothing layers and arrogant personality. He is likely one of the only survivors of the Coffee Village

[tessa-liam]

Turning the Page

Before I called You Mine

Chapter 16

Choices, The Royal Romance, The Royal Heir AU

Series Premise: As Riley Brooks journeys through life as a single parent in New York City, an epiphany strikes as she contemplates the future for herself and her two-year-old son.

Turning the Page Series Masterlist, My Complete Masterlist

Main pairing: Liam Rys x F!OC Riley Brooks

All characters belong to Pixelberry Studios, except William Brooks (Rys) and Matteo Magro, who both belong to this series.

Category: On-going series, contains angst/fluff/depression. Cross-over fic with Choices, Perfect Match.

Rating: M 🔞 - Warnings – Series will have crude language, weapons, NSFW material – not Beta’d - please excuse all errors.

Words: 2.8k

Before I Called You Mine Chapter 16

Chapter Summary: Liam and Riley celebrate their engagement in Paris, France. Leo confronts Madeleine as she arrives unannounced at the palace. Drake and Maxwell, along with Bastien, take William and Bartie to the Eiffel Tower.

Title and Music Inspiration:

I Get to Love You, Ruelle

A/N1: In this alternate universe, after King Constantine orchestrates two individual scandals to humiliate and entrap Riley Brooks and Olivia Nevrakis in shame, Madeleine Amaranth secures her position as the Queen of Cordonia. Riley, as the King’s mistress and Olivia, in self-imposed exile. Tariq is never found.

A/N2: Damien Nazario has been assigned as William’s personal bodyguard. (Series cross-over with ‘Perfect Match’)

‘One look at you, my whole life falls in line...

I prayed for you, before I called you mine...

Oh I, can’t believe it’s true, sometimes...

Oh I, can’t believe it’s true.’

The Suite Impériale at the Ritz, Paris, France

Riley’s P.O.V.

As soon as the door closed behind us, the lock clicked into place leaving the King's guardsmen outside in the hall to stand on guard for their King. Not wasting any time, Liam wrapped his powerful arms around my waist, snugly pulling me flush to his hard body. Tilting my head up, his lips crash with mine as he kissed me, softly at first, then more urgently. My hands moved to his hair, to his broad shoulders, to his hips, pulling him even closer. His fingers danced across my skin, and I shivered.

His kisses leave my lips and travel down the column of my neck, and across my collarbone. My eyes flutter closed as his lips and tongue and teeth explore my skin. I'm lost in the sensation, his touch.

His masculine scent envelopes me ... and possesses me.

I run my hands up under his shirt, feeling his taut, chiseled physique.

He pulled away and gazed down at me. I look up and meet his gaze. He smiles.

"What?" I coyly simpered.

"You're just so beautiful," he says, his voice low and husky.

I can't help but blush.

"I want you," he says. "More than anything."

"Then take me," I reply, lasciviously.

I feel his fingers reaching for the zipper on the back of my dress. He slowly slides it down, then slips the straps off of my shoulders, my dress pooled around my feet. He looks down at my breasts, his eyes dark with desire. Watching me intently.

"What?” I respond with a soft purr.

"I have waited so long ... fantasized about ... making love to you as my fiancé. And now, you are finally mine.”

My breath hitched at his intensity.

"You're so gorgeous," he continued. "Every inch of you."

He took my hand leading me towards the bed.

He laid me on the bed gently and kissed me deeply, his hands roaming my body. He moved his lips down to my breasts, taking a nipple in his mouth. I gasp as his tongue swirls around the sensitive bud. He moved to the other breast, and continues to suck and lick, making me moan.

He moved lower, kissing and licking my stomach, then lower, until his teeth tugged my lace thong down between my legs and off. Teasing me more, he made his way back up the inside of my thighs, licking and marking my skin, until I'm writhing beneath him. His large hands spread my thighs, my core exposed to his attention. He brings me to the edge, as his lips and tongue circle and suck my core as it spasms in ecstasy. Moving back up, he trails a featherlight touch with his hand back up my body to my neck, gently palming my throat. Kissing me deeply, he pulled back and rolled onto his back, pulling me on top of him.

"I need to watch you, love."

Taking his cue, I straddled him and slowly sank down onto him. He groaned deeply as he filled me, his hands gripped my hips tightly and I can't help but moan, my back arching backward in pleasure.

Thrusting into me, he filled me over and over again.

"Fuck, Riley," he groaned.

He reached up and cupped my breasts in his hands, teasing and squeezing my nipples. The sensations making me gasp.

"Liam..." I cry out.

"Come for me," he says, his voice strained but commanding.

"I... I'm going to come," I gasp.

"Yes, Riley, come for me," he repeats.

His words send me over the edge. My body trembled as the sensation crashed over me. He continud to thrust, and then his body tensed as he fell over the edge with a deep groan.

We lie there, our bodies entwined, after I lift up to lay down beside him. Liam wrapped his arms around me and held me close.

"I love you," he whispered, kissing my temple.

"I love you, too."

He kissed the top of my head. "Marry me," he pleads.

I laugh. "I already said yes, silly."

"I know, but I want to hear you say it again," he grinned.

I sit up and look at him. "Liam, I will marry you. I can't wait to be your wife."

He grins. "Good."

He pulls me down back into his arms, enveloping me as we both fall asleep, content and happy.

I am the luckiest girl in the world.

Cordonian Royal Palace

"Hello, Madeleine. What a surprise," Leo said, his voice laced with sarcasm. He watched her quickly step toward him.

"Leo," she said curtly, her tone cold and distant. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"Obviously," he said, matching her icy tone.

"I was looking for Liam," she declared. "Do you know where he is?"

"Why are you looking for my brother?"

"It's none of your business, Leo."

"Actually, it is," he retorted, his eyes narrowing. "Anything that affects my brother's reign is my business."

"This has nothing to do with his reign," she countered, her frustration mounting.

"Then why are you looking for him?"

"I told you, it's none of your business," she snarled, her fists clenching at her sides.

"Maybe not," he said calmly, crossing his arms, blocking her path with his muscled and toned tall frame. "But if it has something to do with the Cordonian monarchy, then I have a right to know."

"I am part of the Cordonian monarchy," she spat. "So, unless you want to get on my bad side, I suggest you stop asking questions and just tell me where Liam is."

"Liam is in Italy, with his fiancé."

Madeleine's eyes widened.

"Fiancé?"

"Yes," he replied, a smirk tugging at his lips at her shocked expression. "Liam is engaged."

"To whom?" she demanded, her heart pounding in her chest.

"The same woman who was the front-runner for the crown during his social season," he replied, enjoying watching the shock and anger flash across her face.

"That bitch!" Madeleine hissed, her jaw clenched.

"Now, now, Madeleine," he taunted, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "That's no way to speak about the future Queen of Cordonia."

"She will never be the Queen of Cordonia," she growled, her body trembling with rage.

"Well, I suppose that's up to Liam," he said, the smirk still playing on his lips.

"I'm the Queen of Cordonia," she snapped. "And I will not allow some commoner to steal the throne from me."

"That's not really up to you," he said, his gaze challenging her. "If I remember correctly... he tossed your ass out of his life and Cordonia."

"Don't test me, Leo," she sparred, her voice dangerously low. "You will not like the results."

"Is that a threat, Madeleine?"

"No, it's a promise," she said, her eyes burning with anger.

"Whatever," he replied curtly, waving his hand dismissively. "You're wasting your time here. Liam is gone, and you're not going to find him. He's out of your reach."

"I will not give up," she said, her chin lifting defiantly.

"Then you're a fool," he said, his tone bored. "You can't compete with Riley. She has everything you don't."

"And what is that exactly?"

"She has his heart, for starters," he said, his gaze cold and unwavering.

"Love is for fools," she sneered.

"May..be," he said, his expression darkening. "But that's the one thing you'll never have. And you'll never be able to take it from Riley."

"I'll take everything else," she snorted, her voice filled with venom.

The Suite Impériale at the Ritz, Paris, France

Liam's naked form was a sight to behold. His broad shoulders, muscular back, and toned arms and thighs were a testament to his strength and power.

Riley couldn't help but stare as he walked towards the bathroom, his ass tight and toned. Her eyes followed him as he disappeared behind the bathroom door, the sound of the shower starting moments later.

She sat up in bed, her body tingling with desire. She couldn't believe how lucky she was to have him as her husband to be, and she was thankful for the many blessings she had been given so far.

As she heard the shower turn on, she slipped out of bed and crept into the bathroom, her body naked and ready. She pushed open the shower door and stepped inside, her eyes fixed on Liam's backside.

He turned, a surprised, but delighted look on his face.

"Riley..."

She moved towards him and into the shower, wrapping her arms around his waist and kissing his wet and soapy chest.

"I couldn't wait," she whispered.

He chuckled, his hands running over her wet skin.

"I'm glad you didn't," he replied, his voice husky.

He pulled her close, his lips finding hers. The water ran down their bodies, the steam rising around them. They kissed passionately, their bodies pressed together.

Riley moaned as Liam's hands moved over her breasts, her nipples hardening beneath his touch.

Through the water that was streaming down her face Riley kissed her way down his neck. She felt him growing hard against her stomach, and she reached down to wrap her fingers around his length.

"Fuck, Riley..." he groaned, his fingers digging into her ass.

She stroked him, his length thick and hard in her hand. She knew she could make him come with her hand, but she wanted more.

"Liam," she said, looking up at him coquettishly.

Riley slowly slid down to her knees, shamelessly, down the rippling planes of his stomach as her hands felt his muscled thighs. She licked a stripe along his length, eliciting a low growl from Liam.

"Fuck, Riley... that feels so good," he said, his voice low and husky as he slid past her lips.

* Le Café Petit Gourmand

Bartie and William looked through the window of the café, their mouths watering at the sight of the pastries and sweets on display.

"Are you guys hungry?" Maxwell asked.

"Yes!" they both exclaimed.

Maxwell laughed and led them inside. The three of them walked up to the counter, and the boys each picked out a treat.

"Mmm," William hummed, taking a bite of his pastry.

"This is so good," Bartie said, licking icing off his fingers.

Drake, Maxwell and Bastien all smiled at the boys' enjoyment.

"So, where are we headed next?" Drake asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

"We should visit the Eiffel tower," Maxwell replied. "It's the best view of the city."

"Okay," Drake said. "But, we need to get back to the hotel in a few hours." Drake looked at Bastien for confirmation.

"His Majesty, wanted the Royal jet ready for 5 p.m. to return to Cordonia," Bastien responded.

"See, we have time," Maxwell replied.

After finishing their pastries and coffee, the group headed towards the Eiffel tower.

The Eiffel Tower was a majestic sight, towering over the city and dominating the skyline. It was a popular tourist attraction, and the lines were long, but Bastien arranged a few shortcuts, and the boys made it to the top without waiting in line for too long.

The view was breathtaking, and the boys stood at the railing, looking out over the city.

"Wow," Bartie breathed.

"It's beautiful," William agreed.

"I wish my mother and Bertrand were here," Bartie said, a little wistful.

"I'm sure they're having a good time," Maxwell replied. "But, we'll tell them about it when we get back."

"Speaking of time, we should head back to the hotel," Drake said.

They rode the elevator back down and made their way back to the hotel.

Bastien's phone beeped as he received a text.

"His Majesty has instructed me to return William to his suite," Bastien announced.

"Alright, see you soon, kid," Drake said.

"Bye, Uncle Drake," William replied, giving him a hug.

"See you on the jet," Maxwell said, ruffling his hair.

Bartie waved as they headed for the elevator.

William and Bastien rode the elevator to the presidential suite. Bastien escorted him to his door, knocking once.

Damien smiled as he held the door open for the young prince.

"Hi, Damien," William said.

"Prince William," Damien bowed slightly. "I'm glad to see you returned safely."

"I had fun," William replied, smiling.

"But I am ready to go home now."

Damen smiled watching William run crashing into Liam, as he held his son in his arms.

'I get to love you

It's the best thing that I'll ever do

I get to love you

It's a promise I'm making to you'

Thank you for reading, tags are in the comments. Please let me know if you would like to be added or removed from tags.

@choicesficwriterscreations @choicescommunityevents

[sk8erboi04]

Why You MUST Read Star Catcher On Webtoon

Hello, my name is Sk8er, and in this essay I will be doing my very dang best to try and convince you to read Star Catcher on Webtoon. (Yes, the title is a little dramatic but it is so honestly how I feel that I can’t be sorry about it.)

And just a statement before I get into it, I obviously am not connected with the author and am in no way getting anything from promoting her beautiful story, I have just recently become obsessed, and this is my most productive way to deal with those feelings. (I feel this is obvious, but my sister, forever my voice of reason, said I should make sure people know anyway so there ya go)

With that out of the way, and the warning that this is going to be LONG, lets do it.

There are a number of things I love about this story, but pretty much everything can be summed up into two categories. The story, and the art. I’ll cover everything I love that falls under both of the topics, and then finish of with my closing statements.

1- The Story

As of the time I’m writing this, there are 36 episodes/chapters released to the public, with 5 extra chapters available via fastpass. I’ll do my best not to spoil anything that you can’t understand or infer from the first 3ish chapters, because the first chapter is a flash forward and isn’t plot relevant until way later in the story.

Anyway, holy shit it’s only 41 chapters but it's already SO GOOD?! Like, we have our main characters, Lucas(Luke) and Thomas(Tommy), and they are both such excellent protagonists! They both have so much depth, and it’s so clear that there was so much thought put into their motivations and general dispositions by the author.

On one hand, Luke is such a wonderful representation of what it’s like to struggle with anxiety/self doubt. It’s such a realistic depiction of someone who is recovering from a time when those issues were at a peak, but is not magically better and on a perfect healing arc either. There are clearly steps in the right direction, a light at the end of a tunnel the character couldn’t see previously, but it’s still a work in progress. That’s not even to mention how much is revealed later down the line, and how much is still not clear but is being so beautifully hinted at/foreshadowed.

And on the OTHER hand, you have Tommy who is just the most incredible depiction of a parent-pleasing ‘good boy’. Where the story is currently, not a WHOLE lot has been revealed in terms of Tommy's family sitch, but it’s very clear that the guy is the classic “No dad, that’s your dream, not mine!” except the sweet boy can’t say that cause there’s no one else to live out the parents’ dream for him so he’s gotta do it. There’s more hints at his people pleasing behavior, but I won’t get into it for fear of spoilers, just know that he is trying SO hard to take care of people and is astonished someone might want to take care of him.

And then, ya know, that meet and fall in love at first sight and it’s perfect and I will never get over it.

This story is what we in the business call a ‘slow-burn’, and holy shit do the comments love to yap about it. Problem is, on one hand, I definitely see where people are coming from. Within the timeline of the story, it feels like eons. But. like. It’s not that bad. Don’t let anyone scare you, it’s definitely a tension builder, but it’s not as bad as some stories I’ve seen so don’t be deterred if that’s your sticking point. You will be well fed with cutesy content, even if they're not together yet. The commenters are just hyper.

The story so far is focused on Luke and Tommy getting together, but I’m not sure how long that’s going to last as a plot point and how much story will come after they get together. There is a really cool extended cast with Luke’s twin sister and all of their friends, plus we’ve got some ~trauma~ to get into, so regardless, there’s plenty of story outside of the ‘couple things’ to get into and It’s all really cool.

All in all, I'm obsessed and the amount of attention and care the author has put into planning the story out is so clear and I can’t wait to see where it goes!

2- The Art

This is the main reason I wanted to write this essay. I totally understand that art is subjective, and not everyone is going to like the same thing, blah blah blah. I understand all that. I have never taken longer to read a Webtoon story in my LIFE because I was too busy just admiring the pretty pictures.

The colors are STUNNING. The line art is STUNNING. I could stare at it all day and never grow tired of it. If my life were drawn out in a graphic novel, I’d want it to look like Star Catcher.

I’m not any kind of super talented artist, but I like to paint as a hobby and have played with procreate on my ipad for shits and giggles and damn is it only in my wildest dreams that I could draw the way this author does. Every character is so individual and unique. Clothes and general style are complex without looking ‘busy’. Poses and movement feel so natural and are never out of place.

AND OH MY GOSH THE EXPRESSIONS! The faces each character makes are so expressive, Luke especially getting some of the cleanest and clearest emotions I’ve ever seen. Perhaps it’s because I've tried and failed so miserably at drawing mouths, but I am especially impressed by how rarely characters' mouths look boring. Every facial feature is used to tell us what the character feels, and I can’t get enough.

Also. The cartoony/chibi style bits?! It’s like, 50% of the appeal for me. It is so cute and just so well used for comedy, I laugh out loud at nearly every episode from those parts alone.

Even the damn speech bubbles stay in between pages is a liminal outer space so they stay out of the way of the art while still allowing for a flowable reading experience. WTF.

Compliments to the chef, cause she fuckin’ cooked with this one.

Conclusion-

You should read this comic. Do it. I triple dog dare you. That’s a threat. I will never shut up about how good it is and as long as nothing crazy happens like all the characters getting eaten by a pack of wolves or something, I’ll be reading it until it’s over. I advise you do the same.

(Also, if by some crazy chance you’re the author and have just read my brain vomit, I hope it comes across as ‘I love your thing in a cool and fun way, not a weird and creepy way.’ Haha funny, not haha weird, ya know? Much love!)

TLDR -

Star Catcher is perfect and you would think so too if you’d just read it ya bum.

[gallafics]

𝙶𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚏𝚒𝚌'𝚜 𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚜

Category — Fics for when you want something everyone and their mama has read! (No Major Spoilers)

“The Increasingly Poor Decisions of Ian Gallagher” by @goodkwuestion (Ao3)

Complete. 36 chapters. 309.8k words. Explicit. Graphic depictions of violence. AU. Slow Burn. Explicit sexual content. Mutual pining. Violence. Gun violence. Abuse. Drug use. Sexual harassment.

Everything about this fic is pure perfection. The plot, the dialogue, the dynamic, the chemistry. Ian and Mickey’s desire for one another is palpable from their first meeting. This story is thrilling and entertaining—extremely binge worthy and the cinematic style of writing will definitely have you glued to your device doing just that! (Full review — coming soon!)

“Like Real People Do” by @gallavichy (Ao3)

Complete. 19 chapters. 213.7k words. Explicit. No Warnings Apply. AU. Online dating. Escorting. Sexual inexperience. Fluff. Slow burn. Smut.

This story is home to one of my favorite Gallavich AU plot lines. It has some light moments of angst, but overall, it's a very light, romantic story with a wonderful balance of romance and comedy. I love the fact that Ian and Mickey don't physically meet for pretty much the first half of this story. I find it's just a tad more special when they finally come together in person. (Full review — coming soon!)

“Ransom” by @beckyharvey29 (Ao3)

Complete. 40 chapters. 110.9k words. Explicit. Graphic depictions of violence. AU. Slow burn. Angst. Gun violence. Kidnapping. Implied sexual assault. Drug use. Enemies to lovers. Angst with happy ending. Protective Mickey.

This is an amazing story that I finished in just one day. It has a darker tone, but it's not triggering. At its core, it's really a story about two men falling in love under high stakes. I particularly love Mickey's characterization in this fic. This story will make you feel everything—I laughed, cried, cringed, felt the angsty moments intensely, and the romantic scenes were intense too. It's definitely a must read! (Full review - coming soon!)

“Restoration” by @palepinkgoat (Ao3)

Complete. 14 chapters. 112.7k words. Explicit. No warnings used. AU. Slow burn. Pining. Smut. Closeted Mickey. Internalized homophobia. Self-Harm. Thoughts of self-harm. Implied past abuse. Emotional sex. Dirty talk. Happy ending.

Like all of the fics on this list, Restoration holds a special place in my heart, however, this one specifically because it’s the very first gallavich fic I ever read when I joined the fandom. Mickey and Ian in this are written to perfection. Their journey to loving one another is top tier. Now, I am slightly biased since this fic popped my cherry in the gallafics world but ask anyone who has read it, I promise they’ll agree!! (Full review — coming soon!)

“Cooperative Gameplay” by @gallavichy (Ao3)

Complete. 18 chapters. 421k words. Explicit. No warnings apply. AU. YouTuber Mickey. Friends with benefits to lovers. Fandom culture. Emotional hurt/comfort. Fluff. Light angst. Slow burn.

I’m confident to say this fic is loved by the masses and I can say with certainty that it lives up to its expectations. Ian and Mickey are slightly ooc, however it works extremely well with the story and plot. Ian is still our loveable dope and Mickey is still our grumpy boy. But watching their mutual mining turn into more and the way it’s writing is just *chefs kiss*. It’s funny, it’s light hearted, there are moments of angst and it is absolutely binge worthy! (Full review—coming soon!)

[redcoralpot]

Smudged (4)

Rodrick Heffley x FTM Punk Reader

Warnings: NSFW joke and mentions of homophobia

Summary: The idea was bull, but it was worth a shot, you supposed. That is, if Rodrick can stay focused.

-

“I need you to do a favor for me,” Rodrick kicked his foot against the asphalt.

You could still hear the joyful chatter of children reuniting with their parents in the background, cars speeding past you, causing strands of hair to come loose, “No.”

“No? What do you mean no?”

“I’ve heard enough from Heather.”

His eyes snapped towards you, wide and attentive, for once, “What’d she say?”

“Obviously not something positive.”

Rodrick shrugged, his attitude uncaring once again. You huffed and turned away, fully planning on leaving him alone on that sidewalk. However, you only were able to take a few steps forward before a hand roughly grabbed at your back. Cursing under your breath, you whirled around to face the boy, squinting.

“Hey, hey, I’m being serious. I need your help, here, dude.”

“You could’ve fooled me;” you rolled your eyes, but didn’t remove his hand, “I won’t do your homework for you. Leave that in middle school, with Greg.”

Rodrick’s hand slid down your arm before he pulled it to his chest, “Actually– fuck, nevermind. Okay, that won’t work on you, but you’re a valuable resource with this!”

“And how is that?”

Instead of answering, he took a step closer, and waved a slip of paper in your face. You flinched back, allowing it to fall from his fingertips into your open palm. Rodrick was silent, snickering, and tapping his foot as he gleefully watched you crack it apart. Inside were printed words; his project slip, awfully crumpled. Two words, three if you count the category. Music; punk subculture.

He smirked, “It’s a research project. What better way than to talk to the only punk guy in town?”

“If you’re so sure, then what about the collaboration rule?”

“C’mon, nobody’ll ever know!” You could’ve sworn he almost whined, moving back.

You said, “I won’t fail ‘cause you’re reckless; I’m sure there’s another punk guy somewhere.”

Rodrick made a face, “There’s none that I know.”

“That’s too bad for you, then,” you replied. Kicking a rock towards him, you backed up, towards the road. He huffed, taking steps forward as much as you moved away. You could tell that he was getting desperate for your help.

“How about a trade? I help with yours, you help with mine!”

You paused, causing the drummer to smack face first into you, knocking your foreheads together. The two of you hissed, with Rodrick rubbing the wounded spot with a scrunched up, pained face. When he finally let his hand fall away, you could see an angry red spot in its place, and yours probably did not look much better.

“I’ll think about it.”

He snickered, hitting your arm, “Hah, think.”

“Heather was right, you’re a cornball.”

“Fuck you,” he groaned.

You shook your head in response to his complaints, “Deal with it, Heffley. I have your number, I can harass you with it all day.”

A small boy, about Holly’s height, if not shorter, appeared in the distance. He was running towards the both of you fast– well, as fast as a middle schooler can go on those little legs. Beside him, a chubbier, ginger child was struggling to keep up as his counterpart shouted, bringing his hands up to his mouth. Rodrick grew tenser, a kind of grumpier expression clouding his features. Ah, that would be Greg. Chuckling, you made the decision to instead flee the scene, not wanting to be a part of their petty sibling rivalry.

“What do you want, turd?” Rodrick sneered, gesturing beside him, “I was in the middle of something.”

“You promised you’d take Rowley and I home!”

“That means you have to be–” He took in the blank spot where you once were, “...patient.” “I’m gonna kill you the next time Mom’s not home, literally kill you!”

-

You fished your flip phone out of your pocket, slouching on your pillows with your socks only half-off. When the list of conversations popped up on the small, bright screen, you paused. Were you seriously contemplating this? Directly going against the rules to work with Rodrick of all people; you might as well have cheated with Daniel and that would have been a better idea. However– you shifted in your bed, kicking your socks across the room– Daniel knows nothing about drums. In fact, he talks about flutes more than any other instrument, as girly as his father calls it. Rodrick was better at it than anyone else in this shitty little town, so how bad could it truly be?

Against your better judgment, you typed in the number pattern printed on the invitation slip into a new contact, naming it accordingly. You held your breath, typing your very first message; “This is Heather’s brother.”

Your phone was smashed into your sheets and you hugged your pillow to your chest, peeking over at the device. It took a few moments, minutes really, before it vibrated against the cloth. Yet, you didn’t reach for it at first. This was your last chance, your last chance to refuse this and possibly not ruin your entire senior record, and so you hesitated. Curiosity got the better of you, though. “Trade or no trade?” 

Taking a deep breath, you responded, “Trade. Come to my house.”

Heather would be so mad at you for this, you thought as you set aside your phone to the side and hopped up. Most of the time would be spent in your room, and you would hate for it to be as messy as it is now when a guest is over, despite the fact that Rodrick seemed to lack standards for hygiene. Perhaps he only showered once a week, if you were lucky. Regardless, you half-heartedly made your bed and dumped a few garments of clothes that had littered your carpet down a hamper, hidden in your closet. Your violin and electric guitar were both leaning carefully on your wall, safe from harm in their cases. Your desk was scattered with markers, laces, and patches that you had neglected sewing onto your jacket. It wouldn’t hurt to stack them neatly, you reasoned.

Your room still had a certain chaos to it despite your efforts, and really, you weren’t looking to fix it. It had personality, it reflected you, just as Heather’s more tidy space reflected her personality. Books lined the shelves underneath your desk; one that you didn’t spend too much money on. A door, glass, a mat, and two near-height shelves as support gave you one easily; you refused to let your mother buy you a “proper” desk. The works were mostly fiction or topics regarding punk history, so you selected a spare few that you did not care too much about in order to lend them to Rodrick.

About ten minutes in, halfway through the time you expected Rodrick to arrive, you freshened up your makeup in the bathroom mirror, paying extra attention to your eyeliner. Just to one up the guy. You smudged it with your pointer finger, before lining your waterline with a matching black. Even so, you almost poked your eye as you were finishing the right side of your face when you heard a clang!

A faint, “Uh– shit, my fault.”

You lifted the lace curtains with a non-blackened finger to peer outside, only to be greeted by the sight of the devil’s gleaming white van, a fresh dent in the front. An angelic statue that had decorated your family’s driveway was now laying on the ground; a puzzled Rodrick above it. A sigh forced itself from your throat. Your eyes followed his figure as he awkwardly tried fixing the abused statue, before sauntering up to the door with a fist raised. It didn’t take long to bound downstairs and open the front door before he abused that, too.

“We have a doorbell, you know?” you stated, unimpressed, “Come in.”

He whistled a short tune as he took in the rooms around him, “So this is Heather’s house. I was starting to think I’d never get to see it!”

“You aren’t here to see Heather, you’re here for research. Don’t talk to her, don’t listen to her, and don’t even look at her; she’ll choke you out and then me.”

Rodrick bent his head in order to see through the crack in her bedroom doorway, but you took a hold of his ear and pulled him away; “Okay, okay, fuck!”

You dragged him through your own door, where you shut it and finally released the drummer to let him take in his surroundings. Pushing him forward slightly with the back of your elbow, you lean on your bed, taking a good look at him. He flicked his eyes towards you– probably scared you were going to rip his ear off if he moved. A humorous expression to see on such an arrogant guy, sure, but you stayed put, watching him. Rodrick must have taken that as a thumbs up, as he was immediately attracted to your desk. He chose to shuffle through your pins first.

“Woah, you made these?”

“No.”

He read the miniature printed names, “Do they mean anything?”

“They’re bands.”

“Well, yeah, I totally recognized them.” He made a show of pointing out his eye makeup.

“Sure–”

He interrupted you, something seemingly catching his eye, “Wait, is that a…”

“Ah, crap, I thought it was something else.” It was a magazine, something you didn’t care enough about to hide away, and he seemed to snicker about it, “If it was, it’d be full of girls.”

You looked over his shoulders, before snatching it out of his hands, much to his offense, “I’m not into that kind of stuff.”

“You sure? I have one you can borrow if you really need it!”

“You’re weird,” you huff, throwing a small book at him.

“Positive?”

“Get to work.”

Rodrick finally sat on your bed, overly casual. You plopped the pile that contained your collection of punk media in his lap, much to his dismay. Christ, if this was still just some big scheme to get his dick wet, you swore you would stuff a leaf in his mouth.

The first book was all about the origins and meaning of such a subculture; the most important subject for his research. You had hoped he valued that, but as he squinted at the text, his eyebrows pushed together.

He tossed it back into your lap, and you threw it back, like some sort of cursed hot potato, “Dude, I don’t know some of those words!”

“How have you gotten to senior year like this?”

“Can’t you just summarize it?” It landed between your legs, to which you looked at him unimpressed.

Rodrick seemed put off by this, looking down at your lap and back up, “Uh, do you have anything to take notes with?”

“...No.”

“Jesus Christ, take a pen off my desk; take the whole book, why don’t you!”

“That’s fine with me.”

You cursed under your breath, even praying to whatever deity was out there to smite the boy in front of you with all their might. You flipped a page, to the first chapter, sneaking a glimpse at him from behind your eyelashes. Rodrick’s foot was wagging back and forth from its position under his left thigh, not even aware of your dilemma. Or he could be painfully aware of it, and just wanted to push more of your buttons by acting innocent. Yeah, that sounds more like him, you thought as you cleared your throat.

“Punk style started gaining headway, aka popularity, in the mid-‘70s in America, with the UK catching the spark a little later on.”

He sneered, “Hah, caught the spark.”

“Knowing that you know enough about history to make a nerd joke horrifies me.”

“I wasn’t born yesterday,” he huffed.

“Sure,” you continued, “anyway, music was a huge part of this new era, but not the only thing included in it.”

Rodrick said, “I can see that.”

“It had fashion, dance, even a mindset to it.”

Glancing at your boots, currently collecting dust in the closet, you searched your mind for items you personally knew were iconic. He had seen you in your clothes, but based on his earlier comments, Rodrick knew next to nothing about the articles. He did not need to know the very deep parts of punk fashion, not for that project. Truth be told, you honestly didn’t want him to know the codes and such related to more personal matters. That knowledge was only for people who would understand, and you lacked that faith with Rodrick.

“You’ve seen me in my boots, leather jacket, and such, yeah?”

“Duh. That sparkly belt, too.” The drummer tapped his temple.

“It’s spiked.”

He shrugged, “Potato, patata–”

Rodrick was thankfully interrupted by a muffled shout from your mother, who slammed the front door shut, “I brought home dinner!”

“Fuck, yeah, I’m hungry,” he cheered, hopping off the bed and down the stairs before you had the opportunity to tackle him.

“Ah, crap.”

Heather peeked out of her bedroom, slowly turning to look at you with a withering look in her eyes. Your shoulders sagged as you saw a snarl take its form on her lips; defeat.

-

[ovrour]

YOU DONT LOVE ME ANYMORE’ ─── Chris O. Sturniolo

#FEATURING… Chris sturniolo.

#SUMMARY… Chris’ Ex y/n writes “We find love”. A heartfelt song about him. Through bittersweet lyrics, she reflects on their love, heartbreak, and her journey to healing.

#CATEGORY . . . angst/fluff

#WC . . . 1.2k

#SONG OF CHOICE. . . we find love by daniel caesar

#A/N… hi sweet babies, i know its been awhile since i’ve wrote anything, so i wanted to do a little something for you. i love you all so so so much. i hope u have a happy holiday. oh! and happy early christmas🩵 .

The café smelled like fresh coffee and warm cinnamon rolls. I sat in my usual spot, the corner booth by the window, staring at the blank page in my journal. Outside, the city bustled with life—cars honking, people laughing, the distant wail of an ambulance. But in here, it was quieter, the hum of conversation blending with the soft acoustic playlist that looped through the speakers.

It should’ve been the perfect place to write, but my mind was a tangled mess.

Chris.

Even now, months after our breakup, his name hovered in my thoughts like a ghost that refused to leave. I couldn’t escape him, not in my dreams, not in the songs I tried to write, not even in this café where we used to sit together, his hand warm against mine as he teased me for adding too much sugar to my coffee.

I sighed and tapped my pen against the table, my journal mocking me with its emptiness. The one line I’d managed to write stared back at me like an accusation:

"You don't love me anymore

Let's see how you like this song”

“Y/N,” Mae’s familiar voice broke through my thoughts. She placed a latte in front of me, the foam swirled into a perfect heart. “You’re brooding again.”

I glanced up at her, forcing a smile. “Not brooding. Just... thinking.”

Mae raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms as she leaned against the booth. “Thinking about him?”

I didn’t need to answer; the look on my face was enough. Mae had been there through it all—the late-night calls when I couldn’t stop crying, the mornings when I stumbled in here trying to act like I hadn’t spent the night staring at my phone, hoping for a text from him.

“It’s been months,” she said gently. “You’re allowed to move on, you know.”

“I’m trying,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

“See you walking out that door

Wonder why it took you so long”

Mae sighed, sliding into the seat across from me. “Y/N, sometimes moving on isn’t about forgetting someone. It’s about accepting that they’re not meant to stay.”

Her words hung in the air between us, heavy but true. I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. Mae reached over and gave my hand a quick squeeze before heading back to the counter, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I picked up my pen again, staring at the blank page. A melody began to form in my head, soft and slow, and I hummed it under my breath.

“Ever since the day that I met you

I knew you were the girl(boy) of my dreams

But we could never be”

The words came hesitantly at first, but the more I wrote, the more they flowed. The song wasn’t just about Chris anymore. It was about all the times I’d tried to hold onto something that wasn’t meant to last.

It was raining the night Chris left.

I could still hear the sound of the rain hitting the windows of my apartment, the faint rumble of thunder in the distance. Chris stood in the doorway, his jacket dripping water onto the floor.

“You don't love me anymore

Let's see how you like this song”

“I just think we’ve grown apart,” he said, his voice calm but firm, like he’d rehearsed the line a hundred times.

I crossed my arms over my chest, my heart pounding. “Grown apart? That’s what you’re going with?”

He sighed, running a hand through his damp hair. “Y/N, don’t do this. You know things haven’t been the same.”

“We find love, we get up

Then we fall down, we give up”

“No, I don’t know,” I shot back. “Because we don’t talk anymore, Chris. You just... shut me out.”

He flinched, his jaw tightening. “I didn’t mean to—”

“We find love, we get up

Then we fall down, we give up”

“But you did,” I interrupted. “And now you’re standing here, telling me you’re done, like it’s that simple.”

“It’s not simple,” he said, his voice rising for the first time. “Do you think this is easy for me? I don’t want to hurt you, Y/N, but I can’t keep pretending everything’s fine when it’s not.”

I stared at him, my chest tightening. “So that’s it? You’re just giving up?”

“You don't love me anymore

Let's see how you like this song

You need someone you adore

Find a place where you might belong”

Chris looked at me, his eyes soft but resolute. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “But I can’t be the person you need me to be anymore.”

“Ever since the day that I met you

My world's been spinning out of control

I just need you to hold”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I opened my mouth to argue, to plead, but no sound came out.

“I’ll always care about you,” he said, stepping closer. “But—”

“Don’t,” I cut him off, my voice breaking. “Don’t say it unless you mean it.”

He hesitated, then nodded. Without another word, he turned and walked out into the rain, leaving me standing in the doorway, my heart in pieces.

Two weeks later, I found myself standing on a small stage at an open mic night. My guitar felt heavy in my hands, and my heart was pounding so hard I was sure everyone in the room could hear it.

“This is a new song,” I said into the microphone, my voice shaking. “It’s about love... and loss... and everything in between.”

The room went silent as I strummed the first chord, the melody familiar and comforting.

"We knew it'd come around

This thing called love comes crashing down, ah”

The words poured out of me, raw and unfiltered.

"Pieces all on the ground

What once was lost cannot be found, ah

We knew it'd come around we find love.” (x3)

As I sang, I closed my eyes, letting myself feel everything—the pain, the anger, the sadness. The song wasn’t just about Chris anymore. It was about me, about finding the strength to let go and move on.

“Heaven help us, heaven help us, yeah

We're on our own”

When the last note faded, the applause was immediate and loud. I opened my eyes, blinking back tears as I smiled.

Mae was waiting for me when I stepped off the stage, her grin wide and proud. “You did it,” she said, pulling me into a tight hug.

“Thanks,” I said, my voice shaky.

I was about to sit down when a voice stopped me in my tracks.

“Y/N.”

I froze, my heart skipping a beat. Slowly, I turned, and there he was—Chris, standing near the back of the room.

“We find love, we get up

Then we fall down, we give up” (x3)

“What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice sharper than I intended.

“I heard your song,” he said, stepping closer. His eyes met mine, and for a moment, I saw something vulnerable in them. “It was... beautiful.”

“Thanks,” I said flatly, crossing my arms.

He hesitated, then said softly, “I didn’t realize how much I hurt you. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

I stared at him, waiting for the familiar ache to take over. But it didn’t. Instead, I felt... lighter, like singing the song had lifted the weight I’d been carrying for months.

“I appreciate that,” I said finally. “But I don’t think I needed to hear it. Not anymore.”

Chris nodded, his expression unreadable. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

“I will,” I said.

And this time, when he walked away, I didn’t feel the urge to cry.

Mae handed me a fresh latte as I sat back down. “Well?” she asked, her eyes twinkling.

I opened my journal, writing one last line beneath the song lyrics.

"It’s not about him anymore. It’s about me."

I closed the journal, a smile tugging at my lips. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I could breathe again.

© ovrour

taglist : @flouvela @sturniolosarethebest @missmimii @stvrnmc (comment if you’d like to be tagged!)

divider creds @bernardsbendystraws

[youunravelme]

Who are some other writers we should check out?

Love your fic recs 😁

omg i LOVE this ask! (and i love that you trust me to rec things/blogs/fics! it's a huge honor)

i'm gonna put this under a read more because there's a lot of people i think are worth following (and if i rec'ed you and got your pronouns wrong, please tell me and i'll fix it!)

so i'm gonna attempt to organize this list by player. disclaimer: i don't read for every hockey player in existence.

mat barzal (obvi number one bc he's the loml)

@barzysunflower - lolo (she/her) is the first mat barzal writer i actually read and when i tell you i binged her masterlist???? it's so good, my favs are the you are in love series and the unexpected series!

@thewintersoldierdisaster - literally anything she writes is great, i go feral for it tbh. she writes for a few canes players as well, but my favs are the mat fics (for obvious reasons being that i'm in love with him). especially the fics with the baby (whose name i cannot remember) and when mat calls reader squeaks???? i'm in love.

@islesnucks - clara (she/her) has so many good mat fics and headcanons (seriously, headcanons are underrated and need more love in general). i think she was also a writer that made me fall in love with mat because she just writes him as the dream romantic hero every single time.

@hockeywhy - i am almost positive that they are tired of me tagging them, but the truth is, they are the writer of my all time fav mat series caught in the middle! but they also have other great mat fics and matthew tkachuk fics that i've enjoyed almost as much! i don't think they're as active anymore writing wise BUT if you want amazing writing and haven't checked them out, you should!

auston matthews

@bagopucks - ella (she/her) hands down my fav auston series is her single mom!reader series. it's the perfect balance of angst and found family and it's just flat out wonderful. she also has a masterlist full of other fics too, that series just happens to be my favorite. but if you wanted another fav of mine, read the jack hughes fic "a little funky," it's about a reader with ocd and as someone with ocd, it was really impactful!

jack hughes

@chewingcyanide - emme (she/they) literally writes the most poetic fics i think i've ever read. everytime she publishes something new, i am stunned. seriously, i honestly take notes from her writing style. stories aside, if you wanted to become a better writer, check out her stuff, it'll really inspire you to use more descriptive words! her breakable heaven series is what introduced me to her writing and it's phenomenal!

@babydollmarauders - faithlynn (she/her) i'm almost positive that faithlynn was the first hockey writer i really followed because jack hughes was my gateway drug into the hockey world. she has so many fun series and aus going on not only for jack but for other devils players, so if you love the devils, definitely check her out!

@jackhues - naqia (she/her) also has a really fun series called mockingbird and it's technically more focused on the friendship/brother-sister relationship jack's gf (reader) and quinn have but it's really sweet. she also has a great auston au as well!

others

@ladylooch - b (she/her) is great! i put her in this category because i feel like she writes a lot for a lot of different players. i've loved her stuff with nico and mat alike. she also has a pretty consistent schedule as well from what i've gathered (which, girl, share your secrets please)

@troubatrain - kim (she/her) wrote my fav beau fic (set it up) and has written some really good fics for matthew tkachuk too! i absolutely adore the soccer player!reader fic and the blurbs that go along with it!

@comphersjost - m (she/they) again, i've said it once, i'll say it again SHE WROTE MY FAV MATT SERIES OF ALL TIME (all for you). I GO BACK AND READ IT OFTEN. literally had me weeping at times. she also wrote some other fics for auston that i've really enjoyed as well!

@sydnikov - sydney (she/her) has written some realyl great fics for andrei and some for nico hischier and jack hughes (and a few others i think, but those are the ones i've read) and they're just fantastic! she's also a canes fan if you want more canes content!

feel free to reblog this with your own author recommendations (in fact i highly encourage it! there are so many good writers on this godforsaken site and these are just the authors i find myself reblogging every time they post!