#not that i don't appreciate the attention

[thirteenheavens]

thinking about dokyeoms thick arms rnn, could you write a smut that bas something to do with reader worshipping his arms or something like that? thank uouuu I love your work so muchh❤️❤️

Baby,Your arms! || Lee Dokyeom

Word count:1.1k

Notes: hope you guys are enjoying these it’s so odd having the requests closed!

Dokyeom notices your gaze fixated on his muscular arms as he flexes them, showing off his hard work at the gym. He smirks, knowing exactly what you're thinking. "Like what you see, baby?" he teases, stepping closer to you. "I've been working really hard on these lately."

You bite your lip, unable to tear your eyes away from his toned biceps. "You look amazing, Dokyeom. I can't stop staring." He grabs your chin gently, tilting your head up to look at him. "Why don't you show me just how much you appreciate them then?"

He flexes again, his arm bulging under your touch as you run your hands over his skin. You feel the heat radiating from his body, and your heart races with desire. Dokyeom laughs as you continue to admire his arms, enjoying your attention. He starts flexing them in exaggerated ways, making silly faces to make you laugh.

"Do you think I could lift you with just one arm?" he asks playfully, scooping you up effortlessly. He spins you around, holding you against his chest with one arm while the other flexes proudly. "See? No problem at all."

"You're so strong," you say breathlessly, your hands gripping his shoulders. "It's so hot." Dokyeom grins widely, clearly pleased with your reaction. "I'm glad you think so. I worked hard to get these muscles, and it's nice to see them appreciated."

He sets you down gently, but keeps you close. "Do you want to feel them more, baby? I can show you exactly what they can do." You nod eagerly, and Dokyeom leads you to the couch. He sits down and pulls you onto his lap, his strong arms wrapping around your waist.

"Let me show you my favorite arm exercise," he says, flexing again as he starts to kiss your neck. "It involves a lot of... grip strength." His hands roam over your body, squeezing and massaging your skin as he continues to kiss and nibble on your neck. You can feel his muscles tensing beneath you, and it only turns you on more. Dokyeom's arm tightens around your waist, pulling you closer to him as his lips trail down to your collarbone. He bites down gently, leaving a mark on your skin.

"I love how you feel against me," he growls, his other hand moving to grip your thigh. "You're so soft and warm, it drives me crazy." Dokyeom pulls back slightly, his eyes dark with desire as he looks at you. "Baby, can I fuck you? I need to feel you right now." He grabs your hips, grinding you down against his hardening cock. "I've been thinking about it all day. Watching you drool over my arms just made it worse."

"Yes, please," you moan, already feeling the heat building between your legs. "I need you too, Dokyeom." He smirks and lifts you up, carrying you to the bedroom with ease. "Good girl. I'm going to make you scream my name." Dokyeom's shirt lands on the floor as he climbs onto the bed after you. His toned chest is on full display, glistening with a light sheen of sweat from his workout.

"You're so beautiful," he says huskily, crawling over you. "I can't wait to make you mine." You reach up to kiss his arms again, your lips tracing the defined muscles as he hovers above you. Dokyeom shudders at the contact, his breath hitching.

"Fuck, that feels good," he groans, his cock twitching in his pants. "But I need more than just kisses, baby." Dokyeom quickly removes his boxers, his hard cock springing free. He strokes himself a few times, his eyes never leaving yours.

"See what you do to me?" he says huskily. "You make me so damn horny." Dokyeom moves between your legs, spreading them apart. He runs his hands up your thighs, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

"Take off your clothes," he commands, his voice low and dominant. "I want to see all of you." You quickly undress, feeling exposed under his intense gaze. Dokyeom's eyes rake over your body hungrily, taking in every inch of your skin.

"Perfect," he growls, his hands sliding up your stomach to cup your breasts. "You're absolutely perfect." Dokyeom positions himself at your entrance, teasing you with the tip of his cock. He leans down to whisper in your ear.

"Ready for me, baby?"

"Yes, Dokyeom," you whimper, wrapping your legs around his waist. "Please, I need you inside me." He chuckles darkly and thrusts into you in one smooth motion, filling you completely. "God, you're so tight. I love how you grip me." Dokyeom's biceps flex as he starts to move, his veins prominent and pulsing with each thrust. He grabs your hips tightly, using them as leverage to pound into you harder.

"Look at me," he demands, his eyes locked on yours. "I want to see your face when you cum on my cock." Dokyeom smirks, noticing your fixation on his arms again. He lifts one of them, flexing it as he continues to fuck you.

"You really love my arms, don't you?" he teases, his voice strained with pleasure. "Can't take your eyes off them."

"You're such a little arm slut," he grunts, his pace becoming rougher and faster. "Can't even focus on my face while I'm fucking you senseless." He leans down to bite your neck again, his free hand reaching between your bodies to rub your clit. "Cum for me, baby. Cum all over my cock while you watch my muscles work."

"I'm close, Dokyeom," you moan, your nails digging into his back. "Don't stop, please don't stop!" Dokyeom growls and increases his pace even more, his thrusts becoming erratic. "Cum with me, baby. I want to feel you squeeze me as I fill you up." He thrusts deep inside you one last time, hitting your g-spot perfectly as he groans your name. "Fuck, I'm cumming!"

"Me too, Dokyeom! I'm cumming!" you cry out, your body trembling as you reach your climax. Your pussy clenches tightly around his cock, milking him for all he's worth. Dokyeom collapses on top of you, panting heavily as he rides out his orgasm. He peppers kisses on your neck and shoulders, whispering praises in your ear.

"You did so good, baby," he praises, his arms wrapping around you protectively. "So good for me." Dokyeom flexes his arm again, showing off the muscles that made you cum so hard. He smirks down at you, clearly pleased with himself.

"I knew you wouldn't be able to resist my arms," he teases, gently stroking your hair. "They seem to have a special effect on you."

[muzzlemouths]

Hey!! I read your sunshine station piece and it was awesome!!! I know you mentioned Moon briefly, is there a second part with him in it by chance? Thank you! Have a great day!

As a matter of fact...

"Evening, dozers. That was REO Speedwagon's 'Can't Fight This Feeling', a classic for the ages. We're all fighting for something, facing our own demons these days. Maybe you're juggling a schedule that just won't let you rest, maybe you're struggling to balance your home and work life, or your heart is trapped in a game that you can't seem to win, maybe...you're fighting to stay awake." 

Laughter pours from Moon's voice-box, hazy and quiet. "Whether you're toiling through a graveyard shift or just can't seem to lay your head to rest, I'm here for you. I'll be your voice through the dark, the bedtime story that puts your mind at ease, the friend who stays up with you all night."

Neon red illuminates the soundboard, drawing his focus to the familiar silhouette standing just outside the booth door. His copper cage heart ba-thumps in place.

"This next one goes out to those of you burning at both ends of the fuse,“ he continues. “These timeless flights might feel lonely, dozers, but I'll be here until you come back down. Here's 'Rocket Man.'"

He slides the Elton John track into place, smooth metal gliding over vinyl, and queues "Just the Two of Us" at its tail, granting him just under twelve minutes to stretch...at least, that's what he'll tell Eclipse.

Moon cracks the booth door open and peeks just outside of it, glancing around. "Bedbug?"

"Here," you call at his back. Watching him jump ought to be funny, but you can't help but find it endearing. "Sorry, didn't mean to spook you."

"You didn't," he lies, grinning from cheek to cheek. "What brings you here at this hour?" He nods towards the clock, its hands pointed accusingly at fifteen minutes past four in the morning. "Your shift doesn't start for another two hours. If you're here for Sun, he hasn't even come in ye—"

"I'm here for you." The words jump from your mouth like a sneeze, surprising both of you. "I mean— I-I'm here to bring you a coffee," you insist, thrusting the lidded paper cup towards him. Normally. "Eclipse asked me to. Since — since you've been working so hard lately."

Moon blinks at the cup strangely. He's still trying to calm the steam rushing through his vents when he reaches for it, not daring to look you in the eyes until his heart settles down. It isn’t every day that you – or anyone, really – wants to spend their time with him. Not when the brighter, louder, better Sun is always there to cast him in shadow.

He takes comfort in the warmth soaking through the cardboard sleeve when he takes it from you, lingering for only a socially acceptable length of time when his fingers brush against yours.

"Did he, now?" That telltale grin of his returns. His shoulder slumps against the door frame, all worries forgotten. "Well, that's very thoughtful. Maybe I should head down to his office and thank hi—"

"Don't!" Your protest is loud enough on its own to draw attention even without Moon ratting you out, and he is nothing if not amused by it. You clear the humiliation from your throat and try again. "It's just, you know how busy he is, a-and I'm sure he wouldn't appreciate being interrupted over something so trivial, you know? He doesn't even have to know I was here!"

Dopey laughter bubbles from his voice box. You wish he wouldn't look at you like that; like he's hanging on your every word.

"Couldn't sleep, could you, bedbug?"

Your stomach somersaults, pouring blood into your cheeks and heating your ears, and you stammer. "I— It's just that I was already in town, is all, a-and—"

"I don't think it's trivial." He brings the cup to his lips and takes a long, thoughtful sip, eyelashes resting against his cheeks as he indulges in the taste.

"You..huh?"

"The coffee." His gaze settles on you like fresh snow, quiet and slow. His smile could melt through even the coldest winters. "I don't think it's trivial," Moon echoes. "You made it just how I like it, too. Must have had to sneak past Eclipse to get to the break room, then again to bring it all the way here, to me. What's trivial about that?"

If your face gets any hotter you're going to catch fire right where you stand.

"It— it's nothing," you insist, struggling with where to put your hands now that you no longer have the cup to distract your twiddling thumbs. "So...does that mean you won't tell Eclipse?"

Moon looks past you, towards your collective boss's office, then strains his neck to see into his booth, noting the time that remains. He hums.

"Want to join me?"

The question startles you into a hiccup. "I'd love to, but..." you cast a glance over your shoulder, peering down the hall yourself as though you're expecting Eclipse to pour from his office any moment now. "After the 'stunt' Sun pulled yesterday — his words, not mine — Eclipse will have my things in a box by morning if I get caught in the booth again."

He pulls away from the wall, perfectly composed, and straightens the cardigan sleeve that had slipped from his shoulder. "That's a shame," he murmurs. "I'd have let you pick the next song."

"Wh— Really?"

"Mhm." Moon steps over the threshold and into his booth, hand reaching for the doorknob with purposeful delay. "Well, I have to get back to work." The door begins to shut. "Thank you for the coff— oh."

He doesn't bother stifling his chuckle as you dart beneath his outstretched arm and into the booth. If anything, he finds it all too charming for your liking.

"Change your mind after all?"

"I can't stay for long," you tell him, trying (and failing) to sound firm about it. "You...you aren't going to make me talk on air, are you?"

"'Course not, bedbug." He gets your chair for you like a gentleman, then easily slips into his own. "In fact, if you're to stay with me, I will need you to be very, very, quiet," he tells you, whispering the last part. "Can you do that for me?"

You take your seat with an eager nod, deciding against trusting your voice already.

"The records are in that basket," gestures Moon. He reaches just past you and plucks the vintage headphones from his desk, a spare set, and wordlessly fits them over your ears.

He unwinds a separate wire for himself — a device you have been enthusiastically banned from referring to as ‘the AUX cord’ — and plugs it into a port that sits directly behind his faceplate. You've since learned that the innovation was created to combat the issue of how to keep a pair of headphones on a face shape like theirs, but honestly, it just looks like a glorified earring.

"Ready?" He asks.

It's a trick question. His finger lands on the button before you have the chance to answer, and just as soon is his voice in your ears.

"Welcome back, dozers. You're listening to Starshine Station, and that was 'Just the Two of Us.' We've got more groovy tunes coming up here in a moment, but before that," and he taps the record basket again, returning your attention to the task at hand, "I want you to take a moment to come back to yourself. I know you're tired, you're exhausted, your mind is racing and you just want to unwind. Put your phone down, close your eyes, and breathe. I know it's silly — I know, I know — but place those worries aside and just be here, in this moment with me. Breathe in, take all of that stress, all of that weight you're carrying, and breath out. Let it go. You can pick it back up later, you can carry it again in the morning, but for now, set it down. Let it rest."

You draw a record from the basket and hand it over, smothering a yawn with your hand.

"Good, just like that," Moon purrs into the mic. "I hope you feel a little lighter after that, listeners. And if you're out on the roads right now, well, I hope you didn't listen to a single word I just said." His laughter threads through the radio waves like smooth jazz, every word curling around a smile. "Either way, thank you for letting me keep you company tonight. We've got more cozy classics ahead, so tune in and turn that dial to ten... here's 'Unchained Melody'."

When had he taken the record from you? One moment it was in your hands, and the next it was on air. So, too, do you feel on air — that is, lightweight and floating, all your troubles swept away by sixties pop and the unspoken lullaby of Moon's hand smoothing circles over your shoulders, hardly remembering when he even got there.

Your head lands on your arms, slumped against the desk.

You aren't going to sleep. You can't sleep. You still have to drive home and be back here again in an hour, well rested and ready for whatever demands Sun has for you that day, saying nothing of what will happen if Eclipse finds you here. You can't afford to rest your eyes for even a minute. Maybe you should have poured yourself a coffee, too.

"I hope the night is kind to you," says Moon.

His voice rolls over you like cool, ocean waves. He sounds so distant already. You can't remember the song ending, or the next one beginning, just the sound of his voice guiding you through the dark.

"This next one is very dear to me." His words breeze over you, disappearing into a hazy fog. "Wherever you are right now, whatever your situation, I hope you have someone special to hold close tonight."

Foreigner's "I Want to Know What Love Is," courses through your headphone speakers, but you aren't awake to hear it.

Moon unplugs himself from the soundboard just long enough to stand, shrugging off his wool cardigan. He stretches, arms raised above his head, exhausted steam whistling through his vents, stress marking every creak in his joints. Then he looks your way, and all the weight melts from his shoulders in an instant.

His cardigan drapes over your shoulders like a hug, still warm from his body. He brushes the hair from your eyes and lingers, selfishly this time, until the song comes to an end and he’s forced to pull away.

"Nighty night, bedbug," he whispers still. "Thanks for listening in."

[bellaxgiornata]

Blur the Lines One Last Time

Pairing: Jax Teller x fem!Reader Word Count: 5.3k [Jax Fic Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: 18+; cheating, mutual pining, jealous Jax, sexual tension, no happy ending (unless expanded into a mini-series), Reader smokes

Summary: For two years you'd been dating Ryan, having been together before he'd prospected for the Sons. After he patched in a few months back, your relationship had taken a backseat to the club. Despite him bringing you to the clubhouse as his old lady, Ryan was always distracted by the guys, the alcohol, and occasionally the girls. But you soon found yourself distracted by Jax, the pair of you secretly flirting behind Ryan's back. Though nothing had ever gone further than that–until one night when it does.

a/n: I teased this the other week and said if there was interest, I'd be happy to expand this into a little mini-series that ends happy. So feedback and reblogs are definitely appreciated! I'd like to know if you want more of these two!

Jax Teller one shot tag list: @kmc1989 @steviebbboi @bear-ink @secretlysamcro @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @bonnyclydecat @nutellajade @aria725 @f1samcro @kaydallas21 @nialiuwanderlust @sarraa-26 @uknowmesstuff @mmarysha @orymgraves @snowtargaryen

“Bullshit you throw better than me, jackass!” Tig disagreed.

Harshly slamming his beer down onto the table beside him, the glass made a sharp clank against the wood. Tig, who was clearly already a few beers deep tonight, stood up from his chair and took two steps towards your boyfriend.

“I kick your ass every damn time we play!” he told him.

“No you fuckin’ don't, man,” Ryan countered with an easy laugh, his arm wrapped around your waist. He gestured the drink in his other hand at Tig as he continued. “You're always so goddamn drunk and distracted by all the tits around here when we play. You rarely win at darts.”

“You're full of shit!” Tig snapped, further growing frustrated. “C'mon. Right now.” He roughly waved a hand between the pair of them, his eyes narrowing. “You and me. We're settling this.”

Raising your beer to your lips, you tipped back the rest of it as your eyes drifted away from the pointless argument beginning between Tig and your boyfriend. While you loved Ryan, you hated when he brought you out to the clubhouse and then got distracted by stupid shit like this. He always felt like he had to prove something to the guys, no matter how meaningless it was, just because he was a newly patched member. Which usually led to him forgetting that he'd brought you with him until he got drunk and needed you to drive him back to his place.

Drinking down the alcohol, your eyes began to travel around the room. Tonight wasn't one of the Sons’ wild and rowdy parties, so it wasn't as crowded or loud in the clubhouse as usual. Juice, Chibs, and Happy were over by the couches talking, a handful of beer bottles they'd made their way through scattered around the tables near them. At a table in the middle of the room, a few guys you recognized from the auto shop sat looking very intent on their conversation; one guy you knew as Jerry spoke animatedly with his hands. A few of the girls that always hung around were gathered at one corner of the bar, shooting suggestive looks to any of the guys who glanced their way.

As your gaze continued scanning the room, you eventually and accidentally caught Jax’s eyes from across the clubhouse. He was leaning his hip against the pool table with his arms crossed over his broad chest, clearly in the middle of a conversation with Bobby and Opie. You assumed all the noise Ryan and Tig were making with their argument had initially drawn his attention over in your direction, but you also knew that wasn't the only reason he was staring at you.

Jax liked you, and he damn well knew that you liked him, too.

Of course you were aware of how inappropriate that was since you were dating Ryan. You'd both been together for two years now, just before he'd started prospecting for the Sons. You loved him–or at least you thought you did until he'd started bringing you out to these parties the past few months after he'd patched in. Then Jax unexpectedly swooped in out of nowhere one night and had you questioning your feelings altogether, making you wonder how much you could love the man standing next to you when your thoughts kept drifting back to someone else. 

It didn’t help that ever since Ryan had joined SAMCRO’s charter, his mind had always been elsewhere. There hadn’t been any more date nights, and there certainly weren’t any lazy mornings laying in bed together. He barely had any time for just you, which gradually had you beginning to feel as if you'd become invisible to him. Ryan was always hanging around the clubhouse, leaving you feeling lonely and neglected back at your place most nights. And the times he did bring you with him out here, you barely seemed to exist in his mind. All he cared about was proving himself to the club, as if he somehow hadn’t done that already as a prospect for an entire year. 

But Jax? He definitely saw you.

That first night you’d met Jax here, you'd been drawn straight to him. It wasn't just that he was beautiful in a sort of rough and dangerous way that Ryan absolutely didn’t possess, but because you two just got along in a way you never had with someone else. Whenever you both were talking, time always felt like it ceased to exist. One night last week, while Ryan had gotten drunk and argued with Juice over a game of pool, Jax had you smiling and laughing so much that neither of you realized you’d spent the past four hours together sitting at the bar. 

But you made it a point to never act on anything with Jax even if you were completely guilty of having an emotional affair with him. You tried to convince yourself that if you never crossed that line past the flirting, you could lie to yourself that what you were doing wasn't that bad. It wasn't like you hadn't caught Ryan flirting with the croweaters multiple times when you'd been here with him, and you could only imagine how much it happened when you weren’t here. Not that his flirting somehow made yours acceptable, you knew that. You just couldn’t seem to help yourself around Jax.

Standing there across the clubhouse, you lowered your empty beer bottle as you continued to hold Jax’s gaze. Your pulse quickened under the weight of his stare, enjoying having his attention on you despite the fact that Ryan's arm was still wrapped around your waist, holding you flush against his side as he continued to argue with Tig about the damn dart game. Ignoring their pointless discussion, you could feel heat creeping up your neck at the sight of Jax’s mouth curling into a faint smirk from the opposite side of the room. Biting your bottom lip, you fought back the grin threatening to break out across your face before faintly shaking your head at him.

He shouldn’t be making eyes at you like this, staring at you so openly in the middle of the clubhouse. Anyone could look over and catch onto the way you were looking at each other. Especially because sometimes the way Jax looked at you? It made it apparent that he was mentally undressing you with his eyes–like right now. 

Forcing your attention away from him and back onto Ryan, you felt that heat continuing to creep its way up your neck. You knew it was wrong to be imagining Jax’s fingers sliding up beneath your shirt, wondering what it would be like to have his hands on you tonight. You already had someone. Blinking hard a couple of times, you tried to shove those thoughts from your mind before you leaned in towards Ryan.

“Hey,” you said, attempting to draw his attention away from Tig, “I'm going to grab another beer. You want anything?”

Ryan's gaze briefly flickered from Tig to you, shaking his head. “No, I'm good, babe.”

And then he was back to arguing with Tig as if you weren't right there. With a soft, frustrated sigh, you gave up on thinking he’d pay you any attention until he’d settled this thing with Tig. Placing a kiss on his cheek, you figured you’d go grab yourself another drink and settle in for another boring night watching Ryan get drunk before driving him back to his place. Then, like usual, you’d stay the night and wind up taking care of him and his hangover in the morning. You’d be lucky if the sex was even decent tonight depending how drunk he got.

Turning and heading to the bar disappointed, you noticed one of the newer prospects hanging around near it. When he caught your eye, he grabbed a beer from the fridge beside himself before holding it out towards you.

“Need another?” he asked. “Cause it looks like you do.”

“Yeah,” you replied, accepting the beer from his outstretched hand. Gesturing your head over your shoulder behind you, you added on, “Got a feeling they’ll be at that for a bit.”

The prospect you couldn’t remember the name of nodded, grinning at the pair behind you. “I always see Ryan challenging the guys out here,” he told you. “It’s always something. If it’s not pool it’s darts. Or drinking. Or shooting.”

“Cause he thinks he’s always got something to prove,” you muttered, annoyed.

Bringing the bottle up to your lips, you drank down the cool beer as you leaned against the bar counter. The prospect’s eyes shifted over your shoulder, looking at someone approaching. Without even turning to look, you knew exactly who it was by the way the prospect ducked his head and quietly headed off towards the girls at the far end of the bar. Seconds later, you felt his presence before you even saw him, the hair on the back of your neck prickling just before he sidled up beside you.

He was standing close to you. Far closer than he should’ve been for someone who was just a friend. You could feel the heat of his body radiating off of himself, warming up your entire right side as his arm just barely brushed against your shoulder. But you were always hyper-aware of Jax whenever he was nearby. It was as if your body was incapable of not noticing him on a damn cellular level–like two magnets fighting to just finally connect.

Setting your beer bottle onto the bar counter, right beside his ringed hands that were resting along the surface, you swallowed the alcohol down hard. When you finally looked over at him leaning against the bar next to you, you saw that wide grin on his face and the crinkles at the corners of his eyes like he was genuinely pleased to see you. A sharp pain hit you right in the chest as if he’d just crushed your heart in his fist himself.

While you loved Ryan, you undeniably felt something for Jax Teller. But you also knew the man jumped from girl to girl, tossing them away like used tissues. He wasn't worth throwing your relationship away for, or all the drama and problems it would cause if you did.

“You look good tonight, darlin’,” he complimented in a lazy drawl. 

His eyes dipped down, that grin remaining as he scanned over your outfit before his gaze lingered at the low cut of your top. Your traitorous mind conjured up images of Jax’s mouth trailing hot, wet kisses between the open slit in the fabric and your tongue involuntarily darted out, wetting your lips. Jax’s eyes slid back up, his gaze fixed along your now damp lips long enough for you to hear the pounding of your own heart in your ears.

“That shirt new?” he asked, his gaze lowering towards your chest again. “Haven’t seen you in it before.”

Clearing your throat, your eyes flew away from him and safely back onto your beer bottle in front of you. But you couldn’t stop the corner of your lips from pulling up into a smile. Ryan never noticed your clothes, and he barely ever gave you compliments now. You missed feeling seen–something you told yourself was the real reason you liked Jax’s attention.

But you knew that wasn't all of it. You knew there was a lot more to it than that, you just refused to think too hard about it.

“Yeah, it is,” you answered. 

Glancing back over at him, you took in the sight of him in his usual jeans and white t-shirt, his leather kutte thrown over the top of it. His blonde hair was styled back in its usual style, the sight of it looking so perfect always tempting you to stick your fingers in it and mess it up, your hands itching to just tug on the blonde strands. His beard had grown in a bit thicker since you’d last seen him, probably from having been too busy this week to deal with it. You liked when it was a little longer, though. Just another thing you wanted to grab on him.

“New shirt for you, too?” you teased him. “Or is it impossible to tell which one is new with all the white t-shirts you own?”

Jax huffed out an amused sound at the jab, his chin dropping down towards his chest as his shoulders shook lightly with quiet laughter. He looked up at you beside himself from the corner of his eye, that smile still drawn over his face. You swore your heart flew into your throat in that moment, time nearly standing still as you held his stare.

He was painfully attractive and fuck did you hate him for it right now. Why couldn't you have met him first?

“You’re lucky I like you,” he told you, a glint in his eyes. He raised his head, tilting it to the side just a bit as that smile lingered on his lips. “Not everyone gets away with making jokes like you do with me, darlin’.”

You shrugged a shoulder playfully back at him, ignoring the way your stomach nervously fluttered at the words ‘I like you’ as if you were fifteen again. That should not have affected you.

“Maybe it’s just because no one else is actually any funny, Teller,” you shot back. “You think of that?”

“Mmm,” he hummed, nodding his head. “You’re right. No one else here knows how to tell a good joke.”

“Might help if they weren’t always drunk,” you quipped. 

He bit down on his bottom lip, his smile creeping wider across his handsome face. He shifted against the bar, his leg brushing past your thigh with the movement as he turned to face you more fully. 

“Quick with the tongue tonight, aren’t you, darlin’?” he mused, arching a brow back at you. 

“With some things, yes,” you told him, the innuendo dripping from your words as you picked your beer back up. “But with other things I prefer to take my time with it.”

You lifted the bottle to your lips, your eyes returning to Jax's as you took a pull off of it. His teasing smile had vanished, his expression now replaced with something else. A look of hunger and something darker burned in his eyes as he watched you drink down your beer, his hand on the counter curling into a fist. While you knew you shouldn’t be saying shit like this to Jax, it wasn’t like he hadn’t said far worse to you before. But it was even more awful with Ryan just at the other end of the clubhouse drinking and throwing darts with Tig while you were standing here flirting with his president, making thinly veiled comments about sucking his dick.

Jax leaned in closer towards you, dropping his voice so only you could hear him. “Why the hell are you still with him?” he asked. 

Well that was a first. Usually comments like the one you'd just made were met with similar comments in return. And around and around you both would go until you were wound up and took Ryan home, taking your sexual frustration out on him. Then you'd lay awake feeling guilty about it afterwards.

“Because I care about him,” you answered Jax. “I've made that clear.”

“Yet you say shit like that to me,” he pointed out.

“And you say shit like that to me. And he says shit like that and probably far worse to the girls always hanging around here,” you countered. “Everyone here is always flirting with everyone. Doesn't mean a damn thing.”

Jax leaned back, creating obvious space between you both as his lips thinned along his face. You knew that look he was giving you, you'd seen it a few times before. He was getting pissed–at you.

“So all those times I've spent talking with you didn't mean a damn thing, huh?” he asked, frustration lacing his words as his eyes hardened. “Those hours I've spent sitting in here with you or out having a smoke in the lot? It's all just somethin’ everyone does, is that right?” 

Pulling a face, you were caught off guard by how visibly upset he’d become. He knew you and Ryan were together, you'd been introduced as his girlfriend when you'd met him a few months ago. He'd known that the entire time you'd been flirting, that's why you'd both always been discrete about it and why nothing besides that had ever happened.

“What was it supposed to mean, Jax?” you questioned him back, keeping your own voice low to avoid drawing attention. “You know I'm with Ryan. Were you expecting me to just leave the guy I care about to be some hookup for you?”

“Who said anything about just being a hookup?” he shot back, his brows drawing together. “You think I make a habit of just hitting on my brothers’ old ladies for the hell of it? Cause that's the kinda shit that causes problems, darlin’.”

The way he'd shot the pet name out sounded bitter. When he'd come over here a few minutes ago, a fight was the last thing you expected to have with him. You didn't understand why he was getting so pissed at you for still being Ryan's girl. You'd never led him on to think you were going to leave him.

“So what, you expect me to dump Ryan and be your short-lived fling for however long you want me?” you questioned in a harsh whisper, feeling your own temper flaring. “End a serious relationship and stir up shit in the club over me jumping from Ryan to you?”

Jax didn't respond because he knew you were right. You knew how tight these guys were with each other. Jax going behind a brother's back and stealing his old lady, whether he was serious or not about you, would cause tension in the group. Tension that could bleed into club politics and some of their jobs–meaning people could bleed over it, one way or another. And you didn't want to be the cause of that. 

“You know that's not going to happen, Jax,” you stated, hating the truth even as you said it. “It's just harmless flirting. That's what it's always been. Nothing more.”

A sharp, bitter scoff fell out of Jax in response before he shook his head at you. The way he was looking at you, like he couldn’t believe your answer, had instantly gotten under your skin. He was the one who'd flirted with you first. He was the one who'd started all of this shit when you'd initially tried to stop it from happening in the first place. You'd repeatedly reminded him that you were with Ryan in the beginning, but he'd always just smirked that smirk of his at you and kept on flirting.

You grabbed your beer from off the bar top before pushing away from it. “I'm going to go have a smoke,” you told him, clearly ending the conversation and whatever this was.

Walking away from him, you headed back over to where Ryan and Tig were focused on a game of darts. They'd gathered the attention from most of the guys and the few girls here tonight with whatever bet they'd made, but you honestly didn't care, and Ryan didn't even notice you as you set your beer down on the table and began digging through your purse. You searched around for your pack of cigarettes and your lighter, ignoring the cheering and playful insults coming from beside you.

Once you'd found what you were looking for, you slipped a single cigarette out of the pack and turned, not sparing the group around the dartboard a second glance as you headed towards the exit. When you passed by Jax still leaning against the bar where you’d left him, you could feel his eyes following your every step, but you didn't spare him a single glance, either. All you wanted was to go outside and clear your head after that odd confrontation with him. 

Stepping out into the lot, you noticed it had grown cooler outside than it had been a few hours ago when you'd arrived, the temperature difference noticeable–and it was a welcomed difference after how warm it had been inside. As the door to the clubhouse fell shut behind you, the noise from everyone became blissfully muffled. Without even thinking about it, you turned the nearby corner of the building and made your way as far from where anyone would find you as possible. You just wanted to be alone, left to your thoughts and the guilt steadily filling your gut.

Placing the cigarette between your lips as you walked, you flipped open your lighter and held it to the tip. Inhaling that first drag felt like a wave of relief crashing into you. You pocketed your lighter before leaning against the building once you’d gotten a good distance away from the picnic tables, letting your head drop back against the cool cement as your eyes closed. Reaching a hand up, you pulled the cigarette from between your lips and expelled the smoke, allowing your mind to wander.

You knew you needed to stop flirting with Jax. The problems in your relationship with Ryan were ones you needed to try to resolve, not ones you needed to continue to ignore by focusing on the attention of some other man. Fixing things with Ryan was the right thing to do. And if the issues couldn't be resolved–if Ryan couldn't split his focus between you and the club–then you'd have to figure out what happened next. 

But dating Jax? That wasn't a realistic option. Besides the fact that the man didn't date, him dating you after you'd been with Ryan was likely something that would start a fight. Something that could potentially create a rift in their motorcycle club, even if it was just a temporary one. And who knew what damage a rift like that would cause considering what these guys were involved in and how they handled their problems. It wasn't something you wanted on your conscience.

So Jax? He was off limits. Every SAMCRO member was for you. And you needed to stop with the flirting and the fantasies rolling around in your head. You needed to get him out of your head. 

“I don't like seeing you with him.”

Eyes flying open, you startled at the unexpected voice, a soft gasp falling out of you. Your head rolled along the cement to find Jax standing a few feet away, half of himself bathed in the light from the floodlight on the side of the clubhouse while the other remained shadowed. Brows furrowing, you felt your pulse quicken at his sudden appearance while you simultaneously struggled to fight back the strange feelings that had surfaced at what he'd just said. You tried to take a steadying breath before you answered, not wanting him to know just how affected you were by him. 

“He's my boyfriend, Jax,” you pointed out.

Raising the cigarette back up to your lips, you took another drag from it. But even through the dark, you could see the way his eyes lingered on your mouth.

“Sure as shit doesn't act like it. I think we both know that,” Jax countered sharply, taking a few purposeful steps towards you. “Doesn't even fuckin’ notice what you're doing when you're here. Doesn't notice when you're spending hours lookin’ at me the way you do. And it's not like I haven’t seen him flirting with the girls here, darlin’.”

A bitter, humorless laugh slipped out of you as you shook your head at him, expelling the smoke from your lips. “Yeah,” you shot back sarcastically, “because I'm one to judge him for that, aren't I?” 

“There's something here,” Jax continued, ignoring your comment as he gradually closed the distance between you both. “Don't fuckin’ tell me there isn't.”

You fixed Jax with a pointed look as he approached you, though when he stopped barely two feet away, you admittedly were having a difficult time keeping your hands to yourself. There was that pull again–the one that almost felt dangerous.

“It’s just attraction, Jax,” you lied to him, trying to ignore the way his heated stare was making you feel more seen than you had in months. “That's all this is, alright?”

You drew the cigarette back up to your lips for another drag, but Jax’s hand darted out and grabbed the smoke from between your fingers before you could. Mouth falling open in surprise, you watched as he threw it to the pavement, crushing it roughly under his shoe.

“I've never once seen you look at him the way you look at me,” Jax nearly growled. “And he rarely fuckin’ looks at you when I see you both together. He doesn’t even see you.”

Taking another step into your personal space, Jax’s hand reached forward and cupped your cheek. The calluses of his palm scratched against your skin as he turned your face towards his, making it impossible for you to hide from him. It felt like you couldn’t breathe with how close he'd leaned in towards you, his warm breath falling over your parted lips. Losing the ability to form a coherent thought, all you could do was stare helplessly back at him because he had a point. There was something more than just attraction sparking in the air between you both. There always had been.

“Tell me I'm wrong,” he demanded, an edge of desperation in his words. “Go on. Look me in the goddamn eye and tell me I'm fuckin’ wrong. ”

Your tongue slipped out, nervously running over your lips, but you couldn't form the words to say that. His focus shifted back to your mouth, his eyes openly following the movement of your tongue as the corner of his own mouth twitched. You could feel the tension in his body just from the firm hold he had on your cheek, but you couldn't deny what he'd said. Even though you knew you should tell him to stop–aware that this was the exact moment you should've–you couldn't.

Through the dim light, you saw how his eyes slowly drifted back up from your lips to lock on yours, holding your stare. You could feel it, that point of no return. The last chance for you to tell him no. But you didn't stop him before he dove forward, his hand on your cheek roughly pulling your face to him just as his lips crashed down hard over your own.

The second his mouth was on yours the taste of beer and cigarettes and him coated your tongue. Not even thinking about what you were doing, your hands grabbed onto Jax, one clutching his leather kutte while the other tangled into his hair, both of them yanking him into you. A shudder ran up your spine at the soft grunt he made against your mouth. 

No one had ever kissed you like this before. You felt like your heart was going to burst straight out of your chest, your mind completely blank to anything else but him. His hand had slid to the back of your head, firmly cradling it in his large palm as he kept your mouth right against his. The hold he had on you–the way he was kissing you–was like he was afraid you'd disappear if he stopped for even one second. 

His other hand had been gripping your hip, but you faintly registered the way it slid downwards to your thigh. The heat of his palm seeped through your jeans as Jax lifted your leg, resting it over his hip before he pushed his solid body into yours. Your back pressed into the cool cement of the building behind you, a low moan leaving your mouth when you felt the slight bulge beneath his jeans. Jax swallowed the sound of it down, his mouth still on yours like he was drowning in you.

You were lost in the moment, kissing Jax back just as feverishly as he was kissing you. Your fingers had messed up his perfectly slicked back hair, the strands of it wrapped around them as you held him close. You were gasping for breath in between kisses, growing lightheaded with his assault on your mouth. When his hips rutted into you, his growing erection pressing right against you through your jeans, a filthy moan slipped out of your mouth against his.

Jax’s mouth fell away from yours, his face pressing into the crook of your neck as your head fell back against the building once more, exposing more skin to his mouth. He groaned against you, his hips rolling back into you again as his beard scratched along your skin, the sensation only adding to the heat building inside of you. Eyelids fluttering and breath coming in hard, your mind was slowly starting to come back to you. His lips were on your neck, sucking on the skin above your pulse point, when the reality of what you were doing hit you through the haze of pleasure. 

Both of your hands were on his shoulders instantly, lightly pushing back against him. You couldn't do this. You weren't going to fuck him when you were with Ryan, especially not with him just inside the building behind you. 

“Jax, stop,” you breathed out. “We can't.”

His mouth immediately released your skin from between his plush lips, his hips moving back just enough so that he was no longer pressed into you. He was breathing hard as he stared at you through the dark, confusion in his eyes as his shoulders rose and fell with his heavy breaths.

“I can't do this to him,” you managed out, voice quiet. “This is wrong.”

Pain flashed behind his blue eyes, but he didn’t speak. His hair was a mess, blonde strands out of place and a few pieces framing his flushed face. He looked so good like this. All you wanted to do was forget the world around you and pull him back into you. You wanted his mouth and his hands back on you. You wanted him inside of you, making you his. You wanted to know what it would be like to let him fuck you.

But that was so fucking wrong.

“We can't be doing this,” you told him, slipping past him. “Not anymore. This is–this has to be the end of it.”

Jax took a step back from you, one hand running across his mouth as he tried to collect his thoughts. You shook your head roughly at him, beginning to back away as you realized how close you’d just come to crossing another line. You didn’t even know where the damn lines were anymore.

“Baby,” Jax began softly, tone pleading. “Don’t–”

“No, Jax,” you stated firmly.

You shook your head again before turning around and hurrying down the lot and back towards the clubhouse. You refused to look behind you–you couldn't. Because you knew you'd break at that hurt look on his face, especially after how that kiss had just told you the truth without either of you needing to say it. A truth you hadn't wanted to acknowledge, one you’d been trying to hide from. 

He didn't just want you like some hookup. And you didn’t just like his attention.

But kissing him–especially like that–was crossing a line. It shouldn't have gone that far. This was never supposed to have gone that far.

It was wrong. It was wrong. It was wrong.

So why the fuck did it have to feel so goddamn right?

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Locked Out of Heaven 9

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, power imbalance, age gap, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your father invites a work friend to the neighbourhood barbecue.

Characters: Nick Fowler (Dad’s friend trope)

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

Abruptly, you still your hand. You close your eyes and temper out a breath through your nose. Your insides twist around the vibrating toy as it sends ripples through your muscles.

You shudder and bite your lip as it stops. You blink between the lines of the notebook and the columns of text in the textbook. You haven't got much done in the last hour.

"Got a lab review coming up." Your dad strides in behind you.

You nearly yelp. You swallow down the surprise and clench. You nod as you make yourself copy the words without truly understanding them.

"Mid-semester eval," your voice is thin. You wait for him to comment on it. He doesn't.

"Good you're studying." He says.

"Yeah, er..." your phone lights up and your eyes wander to the screen. It's Nick; 'how ya feeling, baby?' You resist the urge to hit the side button to hide it, not wanting to draw attention to it.

"In the way though." He leans on the table and squints at the textbook. "Shouldn't have your phone out for studying."

"Sorry, dad. I... I set a timer. That's all." You lie. "I'll move my stuff."

"Good." He taps the table and marches away.

You push your lips out in muted confusion. Why would you be in the way? You never eat dinner at the table. Not like a family. If anything, Austin and your dad will eat outside when they barbecue but you eat alone most days. If you remember to do so.

You close up the textbook and recoil. You grab the arms of the chair as the toy quakes again. That's a big one. He's torturing you. You didn't answer him!

You snatch up your phone and unlock it. Your hands shake and it takes several tries to type your response. 'Good. Studying.'

You hit send. His message isn't too far behind. 'You feeling me?'

Your eyes round. You stack your books and your laptop and balance your phone on top. You quickly retreat to your room as your core boils.

You snap your door shut and hurry to your bed. You put your stuff on the end and grab the cell. You answer him.

'Yes. I feel it.'

'Good girl.'

You don't know how to reply so you send a heart emoji. You wait but don't see those three dots. You grab your books and bring them to the desk. You'll hide in here. Your dad must have some plans. He never really warns you.

The doorbell chimes as if to confirm your suspicions. You sit and the toy surges inside you. You squeak and keel forward. You squeeze your thighs together and murmur senselessly as the pulse throbs inside you. You put your head to the desk and whine. It's just enough to put you on the edge, but not over.

Your father bellows from below, jerking you up from your rather literal internal struggle. You hiss and grip your skull. You're dizzy as the toy stops. You check your phone as you stand to meet your father's demand. It's hard to balance both.

Your legs are unstable as you force them to move. You pull open the door and stumble. Get yourself together. You take another big breath. At the top of the stairs, you find a semblance of normalcy. Your father's typical apathy will for once work in your favour.

You descend and slow as you get midway. You recognise the voice droning through the entryway. Sure enough, Nick is right there, chatting with your dad. You blink dumbly as his blue eyes meet yours over your father's shoulder. You gulp.

"There she is," Nick chirps. "Where's that other brat?"

"You're too nice, Fowler. How'd you ever get in at the Agency?" Your dad challenges.

"Only nice when I need to be." Nick chuckles and turns his attention back to your dad. "Figure I'd pay you back for the barbecue."

"Uh huh," your father's skeptical tone can't pierce his guest's sauve veneer. Your dad turns to you. "Nick brought dinner." He nods sideways to the console table. There's two large paper bags with handles; from TiTi's. "Set the table."

"Oh okay," you continue down to the bottom of the stairs and go to grab the bags.

"I got it," Nick scoops up the bags before you can. "Got lots so... bit heavy."

"I'm sure she can manage." Your dad sniffs.

"I know they don't give etiquette lessons down at the Agency, Chuck, but I know mine," Nick retorts. He gets a derisive snort from your father.

"I'll find the boy," your dad mutters.

You snake around the banister and head for the kitchen. Nick is like your shadow. The bags crinkle as you go to the cupboard. You pull the doors open and suddenly, your legs are jelly. You smother your mouth as you lean into the counter heavily. You turn to Nick as he rests one elbow on the island, right by the paper bags, and thumbs at his phone. The vibration is so intense it makes your teeth rattle.

"Look at you. Being a good girl." He hums.

You drop your hand. "Nick, I... what are you doing here?"

He presses his thumb down and you nearly collapse. You whimper. He chuckles.

"Asking me questions?" He tuts.

"N-no. I... I didn't expect--" he flicks his fingertip and the pulse mellows out but doesn't stop completely. "Can ya blame me, princess? I wanted to see you. Last night's got my head all fucked up over you."

You stare at him. You didn't expect him, worse you're not sure how to deal with him right now. Your father, schoolwork, the toy.

"I'm... sorry." You utter.

"Don't be sorry. Be a good girl," he winks. "Maybe you'll get a treat."

You shake your head in confusion. You force a smile and rock on your feet. "Okay, I'll...be good."

You turn to take down four plates. You focus on the task if only to keep from melting into the tile. The bags crinkle loudly.

"Should I take this out to the table?" He asks.

"Sure, er, please," you glance over your shoulder.

"Whatever you want, princess."

He lifts the bags and struts out. You stare after him. He's wearing a short-sleeved collar shirt; faint blue lines on white, and powder blue slacks. Everything about him is always cut to a tee. His ring matches his watch and the chain around his neck.

You nearly drop a fork. Stop. Just get through this. You eke out another tight breath. Isn't this awkward for him too?

You go out with the plates and cutlery. Nick unpacks the togo containers calmly, grinning at your appearance. You set down the stack and retreat.

Glasses, napkins... you put those out with the rest and make a third trip. You grab the jug of filtered water with lemon slices and return to the dining room. Your dad sits across from Nick as Austin yawns and pulls put a chair.

"Got a nice family, Chuck," Nick comments as he rests his hand on the back of the empty chair next to him. You hesitate. If you sit further down, it might draw more attention. You near and Nick stands. "I'll get it."

He pulls out the chair as you set down the water pitcher. You thank him, staring at the table as you do, and lower yourself onto the seat. You swallow down a yipe at the reminder of the humming fullness inside.

"Thanks for letting me intrude on it," Nick says.

"Your choice," your dad grabs the container of steaks and claims the biggest one. "Not very exciting."

"Nice to have someone. Figured you more the loner type," Nick rebuffs your father's indifference.

"I guess. What about you? Bit overdue to settle down?"

"Thought about it," Nick offers you some salad and you nod. Then he serves himself. You watch your dad. He is entirely disinterested what's going on. Austin is on his phone. "Who knows. Not too late."

"Get a wife, skip the kids," your dad scoffs.

Nick laughs, "right."

You stay silent. Your father's resent is well-known. You've always been keenly aware of it. It's embarrassing when he announces it in front of others.

Nick sits back and shifts. You peek over. His phone rests on his thigh as he drops his hand under the table and taps. You feel the jolt inside you.

You reach for the seasoned potatoes and cough. You nearly drop the container. You steady it and scoop out a serving.

You don't fill your plate. You know better. Your dad is an expert at finding something to hate you for. He'd as soon accuse you of being greedy.

You wait until everyone else is settled innbefore you touch your food. Austin isn't so patient or modest. His noisy chewing distracts you from the stirngent small talk between the men. That and the contant buzzing in your guts.

"Excuse me a moment. I need your restroom," Nick sets down his fork.

"Sure," your dad sits back.

Nick stands and swiftly skips his phone in his pocket. You feel the vibration speed up. You bite down on a moan. You squirm, unconfortable and wet, as he steps around your chair. The smell of his cologne suffocates you.

You cross your legs and immediately regret that. You sit flat again and struggle not to rock. The tempo slowly builds and builds only to relent and start again.

Theres another buzz. Not from inside. You take out your phone and bow your head. You open the message waiting and nearly squeal. You bat your lashes and hold your breath.

It's a picture of Nick. You recognize the backdrop of the bathroom. He has his shirt off, the gold chain just above his chest, muscles flexed, a devilish sparkle in his eyes. Not fair.

Your name darts over the table. You flinch as you look at your dad. "Phone."

He snaps his fingers at you. You pout and quickly lock the screen. You stare at him.

"It's rude to have it out at the table," he reprimands.

You grimace and look at Austin. Your dad wiggles his fingers expectantly as he holds out his hand. You sigh and hand it over, praying he doesn't find a way to unlock it.

"Sorry."

"When we have company, try not to be dumb." He growls.

You wince. Between his anger and the constant buzzing in your walls, you can barely keep from wilting away. You nod and pick up your fork again.

Nick returns with a sigh. He sits heavily behind you and rests his hand on the back of your chair. He makes it seem thoughtless but it's all that's on your mind.

"So, Chuck. I'm a nice guy, you know, but I did come here with a reason," Nick lays his other hand on his thigh casually. You just keep thinking about how thick his fingers are. His thigh too. "Got a favour. Sorta."

"Of course you do. I'm not new to the game." Your dad gives a wry look.

"Well, you know, I've been running myself ragged and Chuck, you been sitting on a desk..." he clucks and huffs. "You wanna go to Havana?"

"Havana?" Your dad chortles.

"Sure. You must miss the field work. I really don't wanna drag my ass out again. I'll bring ya another bottle of scotch," Nick barters.

His hand grips the back of your chair. You make yourself small and chew on a morsel of steak.

"Bottle of scotch?"

"Did I not mention? I bought a new boat. You can have it for a weekend... or a week. Hell, make it two." Nick counters.

"Something happen in Havana?" Your dad wonders.

Nick laughs, "nothing I should put on record. Come on, Chucky. You really wanna keep sitting in meetings wearing a noose around your neck."

Your dad clicks his tongue. He crosses his arms as he thinks. "Is it a nice boat?"

"Cozy. I'll throw in a pretty lady if you want."

Austin glance up and makes a face. You twitch.

Your dad guffaws. "Any woman hanging off of you, Fowler, I want nothing to do with."

"Fair enough but you're missing out. You could loosen up, ya know?"

Your father glowers, "you're lucky I like you."

"I'm easy to like," Nick's hand slides into his pocket. You brace yourself and the vibrations throb until you can barely sit still. You suspect there's more to this than just work.

[artful-ang3l]

North East Basement 1 Analysis!!

Well I was wrong in my preditction last time! We got the Problematic Group! I can almost hear the Warriors fans playing their fanfare, more power to y'all!!

Update is here if you hadn't read it yet! North East Basement 1

My thoughts are under the cut!

I find it so incredibly funny that we see the difference between BotW and HW here. Wild taking out 3 Boarblins while Wars takes out at least 6.

Wild can fight a lot of enemies in his game but Warriors can take out hordes!

Boarblins are also from Link's Awakening and the Oracle Games so... another enemy from LA

I feel like Warriors is trying to push the talk about what happened with the Iron Knuckle very carefully, bringing up Twilight and Wild possibly training together. He knew that Wild was trained as a knight and the phrasing seems like he's leading Wild into a conversation here, which is a good strategy.

Wild being excited about his sword is sooo cute!! Look at that little goober!

Sidenote: I would love to know more about Four's "trade secret". But maybe that's just my bais towards Smithy. He has great craftsmanship and the boys all know that!

Was Warriors even paying attention when Wild said the dungeon was similar to shrines? My boy said "These are LIKE shrines."

Entrance pt. 2

I mean yeah, dungeons are kinda similar to shrines. Puzzles, enemies, and the like. But like Wild said, they were made to train the hero, not try to stop him.

Cue TotK Wild slapping his younger self for that comment. I did infact laugh when I read that.

Wild's pretty young and has a very different life than Warriors has. Once again, this shows how similar Wild and Hyrule are. Plus that is pretty dark humor, something someone who's been through a war and seen people be amputated might not appreciate. Especially since Wars is trying to be serious here.

What does Wild WANT to be? That's a very good question. Wild's had the Master Sword from a very young age, around 12 as he told Twilight.

Memories pt. 2

His father was a knight so he was expected to be one. He was Flora's appointed knight so he was expected to be in her shadow protecting her for the rest of their lives. What does HE want? He may not know based on his face.

Sparks! Yet another enemy from Legend's era but also Wind and Four. These ones are defeated the same way as the Anti-Fairy from earlier. Boomerangs or magic powder. Which I'm not sure if Warriors or Wild have. But electric monsters next to a big pool of water is probably not a good sign.

Blade traps! They seem to be similar in design to either the Oracle games or Ocarina of Time. I'm gonna say Oracles because of the Downfall theming of the whole dungeon though.

Also Wild! What did Legend say! Watch your toes! Thank you Warriors for saving my boy!

Cryonis time!! Although it is worth noting that when Time looked at the Shiekah Slate with the Mask of Truth in Masks pt. 2, it said that the Cryonis Rune was unavailable. I don't remember exactly which line says that but I did spend a good chunk of time translating all of it a while ago and it said it was unavailable. Is that because he wasn't near water at the time or because the rune isn't working at all? I guess we'll have to see!

But that is all for now!

Predictions for next update! Wild is either going to use Cryonis and Wars is gonna be impressed! Or Cyronis isn't going to work and they'll have to find another way. Either way, I'm excited to see what's next!

All art belongs to @/linkeduniverse !!

[threegoldfish]

Honestly, Steven doesn't see himself demanding anything anytime soon - he's just way too polite for that, too gentle, too kind-hearted to not say please and hope for the best, admit defeat whenever someone denies him something. But he... listens, and nods, and does not argue against it in any way; Harrow means well with him, after all, and to know that he doesn't need to say please - can be open about his needs, about what would make him feel better - certainly is relieving to him, very much so.

So, when the doctor stands, Steven shuffles away from under the blanket as well and slips off the mattress, onto his own two feet. He finds his loafers sitting there, on the ground, so he puts them on and then straightens a bit, feeling the urge to smooth out some wrinkles from his shirt--- which is, uh, an entirely unnecessary thing to do, given the fact that it is absolutely ruined; He wonders if, whoever's doing the laundry for the psych ward, will ever be able to remove those stains... or if this shirt is going straight into the trash instead...

---He's already missing the softness of that blue blanket. Maybe he can get himself a similar one in a store somewhere...

Clearing his throat, he watches Harrow, once he himself is somewhat situated - taking in the sight of the man looking the way he does, moving in a certain way so as to handle his bad leg; Steven didn't put too much attention on it before, but now he does, and he wonders... feels for this man, assumes the other must be in a great deal of pain... Whatever had happened to him caused long-lasting side-effects, yet Harrow is here and doing his job so efficiently, not caring about himself too much when his patients call for him.

It's admirable. Steven swallows, thoughtful, once again.

So is the fact that the doctor mentions breakfast - seems to think back to that one time where they had sat together and chatted along. That... oh, yeah, that actually makes Steven feel a bit sheepish there, again, and he smiles a little, clears his throat, begins to fumble around with the sleeves of his dirty shirt as they start to move... away from the bed, away from that window, toward the door of the infirmary.

No one has ever said something like this to him before. That... he is making people feel comfortable, apparently.

"...People usually say the opposite." A shrug, voice quiet, accompanied by a self-deprecating chuckle. "Most find me annoying, or... weird, because I tend to say things during moments where they're... uh, not appreciated. Has happened a lot. I ... tend to not know how to do the whole socializing-thing. So... I'm basically dropping bricks all the time."

A second one of those self-deprecating chuckles follows, a bit more high-pitched than the last, and Steven clears his throat again, glances over at Harrow, a little shy. "So, I'm... quite happy that it seems to work for us! I think you're really kind, and... the things you say, all of them make me feel so much better, and... help me to understand. Not all doctors do that, you know? Many.. don't really care. But you? You care a lot. Maybe a bit too much?" Another smile, more honest.

Arthur couldn’t help it, letting out a soft laugh. It was barely more than a gentle exhale, a breath through his nose as he ducked his head in a good-natured nod. He did look rushed, he knew. The shirt was sitting on him weird, his pants were bothering him, his socks felt uneven - his hair was terrible. Nothing that a good half an hour wouldn’t fix, but still; he did look more of a mess than usual. 

“You caught me,” he agreed. “I was asleep. But I’d do it again, no questions asked - I mean it, I’m glad you called me.” 

He stretched his legs out in front of himself, just enough to give his bad leg a moment to prepare for standing up. He’d need to take his medication, too - it’d only take an hour or so to kick in, but he was rapidly growing antsy without it. 

“And listen,” he continued. “You don’t need to worry about asking for stuff like that, you don’t even have to say ‘please’ - if you want to go back to your room, then you can. No reasoning needed. Anything you want, you tell me, and we’ll do it - any time you’re uncomfortable, or any time you just want something. I’ll do my best to make it happen, I promise.” 

He tested his leg once, just straightening and bending it before standing up to his full height. He relied on his cane a bit heavier than normal, but didn’t complain; this had felt like a good talk. A productive one, for a dozen reasons; if he could get Marc and Steven to start communicating… well. They might even discover that they're the same person all on their own. 

“You can go back to your room and get cleaned up, absolutely. I’ll walk you there, myself - you don’t have to stay in here any longer than you want to.” Not with her - no, he’d be having a word. Forcing his patient into a damned panic attack - thinking about it, if Steven was his patient, that would be the sort of thing he’d be working to try and repair. Teaching him to state what he wanted, rather than requesting it; teaching him to not care about what other people thought, if it put his own emotions at risk. 

He couldn’t get the nurse fired, he knew that. But hopefully he’d be able to make a good enough argument that he could her talked to, for it; or at least got her written up in some way. 

“I’ll get myself cleaned up, too,” he continued. “And I’ll check in on you, just to make sure you're alright - maybe we could meet again for breakfast again, one day. I really enjoyed our last talk. You’ve got a way of making people feel comfortable, you know. I mean that, I’m not just saying it.” 

[leighsartworks216]

Omg your Sylus Dragon drabbles made me all excited, just loved the way you described him with his mate.

Could you please make one on how Sylus would be around other males, how protective he would be with his mate.

It's ok if you don't want to answer, thankssss

Oh my god he is SO protective. I'm gonna separate these between humans and other dragons, bc I feel like it would be a little different between them

With humans, he's all glares and body language. He's standing between you and them, standing stock straight and all puffed up. He trusts you - he doesn't trust them

Thinking about a scenario where you go to the market. He goes with you, of course, prepared to give up treasure from his hoard to pay for you and to carry all your spoils. You stop at a booth and start browsing. His head is on a swivel to look out for danger, but he snaps to attention the second he hears a man's voice answering your questions

He stands right behind you, towering over you, glaring down at the vendor. That meme where the sunshine character is flanked by a shadow of a person with only the threatening shine of their eyes? Yeah, that's him

Also uses his wings to make himself even bigger, and he will show his teeth if the man doesn't back down

I also imagine him like nuzzling and biting your neck while you talk to a man. Like, very blatantly staking his claim on you while glaring daggers, leaving marks on your skin where everyone can see

With dragons, I imagine it being more outright "they're mine" type shit. He sees another dragon and his wings are out, teeth bared, ready to attack. If the other dragon doesn't back down, a fight will break out. I imagine that dragons mate for life but they will also fight for a mate, even if that mate belongs to another dragon already, like, to the death. So he's genuinely protecting you from becoming another dragon's mate

I imagine the Defending dragon (Sylus in this case) doesn't kill dragons that try to do this, just beating them down enough for them to concede defeat and run away. But these fights get messy as hell. If the Attacking dragon doesn't back down after the initial display of wings and teeth, it's a full on fight of claws and teeth and brute strength

Omg imagine watching Sylus take on another dragon in one of these fights. You're not worried that he'll lose - he's strong as hell and you know he can handle it. But seeing all the blood that stains the dirt, seeing him get even temporarily pinned down before he gets the upper hand again - your dragon is getting hurt, and that hurts your soul

He wins the fight and stays vigilant until the other dragon is out of sight before he comes back to you. He's got scratches all over. Deep bites too close to his neck. Scrapes and incoming bruises. He's smirking all roguishly, seeking your approval for winning; he doesn't expect you to run over and fawn over his injuries

Imagine dragging him back home and tending to his wounds, dabbing away the blood with a wet cloth and putting bandages on the deepest of the bites and cuts. Once he's patched up, you feel like you can finally relax again. Can finally appreciate the things he does to protect you. Pressing a delicate kiss over a cut on his cheek, and he absolutely melts when you whisper a thank you against his skin. Tilts his head up to catch your lips in a kiss, slow and sweet and adoring

If you're also into girls, I think he'd be a little protective of you there, too, but far less than men. If a woman comes onto you, he's still gonna glare and position himself close to you to show that you're together. Female dragons don't fight for their mates, though, so any interest there is discouraged with a growl and warning flick of his tail

[lheslie]

Mark Variants with a Clumsy Reader

- Main Mark

Mark sees your clumsy nature as something adorable and terrifying at the same time, as small mistakes are cute, but they sometimes lead to a dangerous disaster. He thinks that he has superspeed, so if anything bad ever happens, he's already there for you to either protect or assist you.

He always panics whenever you injure yourself and always rushes you to the GDA's private hospital, demanding Cecil to cure you or fix you. he sometimes even calls his mom if something were to happen and he didn't know what to do about it.

"Mark you have to calm down, I've been through this before and I won't die." You worringly sighed as he went through panic again and again.

Sometimes you're both injured and you stay in the hospital together, lying on separate beds but close to each other.

"Do you want to hear a joke?" You laughed, looking at your side as he lay there healing from injuries.

"Sure?" He replied.

"You know the word I love you to the moon and back?" You giggle.

"Yeah?" He looked at you.

"Instead of the moon, we have something else. I love you to the Emergency Room and back." You burst out laughing

"Wait what?" He questioned you.

"Well since we keep ending up in the Emergency Room together and-"

"OHHHHH, now I get it." He burst out laughing as you laughed beside him

- Omni Mark

He always assists you whenever you need help to avoid any casualties that might happen, he knows the nearest hospital routes available and the doctors in different specialties in case anything bad happens, he knows first aid and has a first aid kit available inside the house, he made sure the house was clean and spotless and also safe for you to move in, he never told you but he silently baby proofed the entire house to make it safer and accessible for you.

"Mark, I can do this myself." You muttered. "I know, but I love doing these things for you." He gently smiles "You can sit back and relax and let me do this for you." He adds.

- Target Mark

He gets irritated at the fact that you always accidentally hurt yourself from even moving an inch, he doesn't hate you he just hates that his consort is injured, he treats you like a jewel that's ment to be appreciated and adored so he orders his subjects to assist you in everyway possible and if you were to walk they had to make sure everything in the room was cleared and if there were ever something that could make you accidentally trip, it would be off with their heads, so they all had to make sure to follow this as everyone would die if even a scratch even appears at your leg.

"Don't scare everyone Mark, you know I don't like that." You sighed. "They're useless if they're not able to follow such simple rules, and they're always replaceable. We have billions of slaves who'd be happy to get the chance to serve us, so they should be happy that they're even lucky to do this." He replied glaring at his incompetent subjects.

- Viltrum Mark

He would be worried a lot as you were human; you were weak and fragile in his eyes as he could easily snap you in half, so he made sure to not let you out of your shared house, and even in your shared house he was still worried about you as he doesn't know why you're this clumsy.

Whenever you go out, he doesn't leave your side unless someone else is watching you for him, so if the two of you have any children, he would ask the children to watch over you, not the other way around, you reassure him you can handle yourself but he doesn't believe you after you almost slipped and fell off the stairs.

He doesn't know if you're doing this on purpose to get his attention or you were born with a sickness, so he takes you to get checked on the best doctors that the galaxy has to find a cure for this sickness.

- Shiesty Mark

He's the kind of person to joke about your clumsiness. "Wow, I knew you fell for me, babe, but you keep falling for me again and again. I'm flattered." He joked while you suddenly tripped out of nowhere where and he caught you.

"How do you trip on air? Or are you doing this on purpose to get my attention?" He looks at you smugly.

"Even if you keep failling again and again, I'll always catch you and you're beautiful ass." He winks at you.

He asks for kisses as rewards for saving you again and again, he calls himself your knight and shining armor for saving your distressed ass everytime.

- Sinister Mark

He thinks it's pathetic and adorable; he always anticipates your next move just like how a predator looks at its prey. Although he looked uninterested and uncaring, he always cleared out any obstacles you might face in advance.

"This is pathetic. Why do we even need to go out for this?" He complained looking at you. "You're safer at home yet you indulge yourself in meaningless and reckless behavior." He added

- Prisoner Mark

He went through a lot and he's afraid of you hurting even in the slightest, so he's very attentive and alertive in his surroundings whenever you're going to even move, he's afraid of you easily breaking like glass, he has super hearing so he can hear it whenever you move even from another room, and if senses that something bad were to happen, he's immediately there before it even happens.

He clings to you, hugging you, following you around like a bodyguard or a shield, protecting you even from the slightest of accidents.

If you ever got injured, he's prepared with a first aid kit, he'd apply medicine to your wound slowly and delicately.

"Does it hurt?" He looked serious while he was applying medicine to a single scratch on your knee.

"Not anymore, you really like to take your time applying medicine even in the smallest scratches." You giggled while you lovingly looked at him as he gave you a kiss on the forehead.

"Then know that this is how much I love and care about you." He declares under his breath.

- Mohawk Mark

He made sure that you stayed beside him so he could closely monitor you if anything bad were to happen, he also had to make sure that there were infirmaries available in case he had to rush you to a doctor, he would ask the enitre place to be baby proofed so you won't have any accidents

"You know one day I might build you a huge fucking crib so you won't get injured anymore, fucking hell how do you even trip on air, I love you and your ass but please stop trying to die." He kisses you on the cheek.

- No goggles Mark

This man is wild and rough, but whenever he's around you he treats your clumsiness as a game whenever you stand up to do something he looks at you and waits for something to happen so he can help you, but at the same time your clumsiness does it's own effect randomly so he waits for something to happen, so he follows you around waiting for something to happen and when it does he helps you.

So he plays a game of waiting and anticipation, which helps you have your quiet time as he's intently staring at you and everything that you do, and it keeps him preoccupied.

"I'm not glass Mark, I won't shatter from something so trivial." You laughed at him.

"Yes you aren't, but you are to me. I can literally snap you in half babe." He grins as you get the chills.

[wherevenusholdssomeofficespace]

Rapid fire season 5 thoughts:

Cloudy with a chance of Mom was good, like Summer Block Buster was a bit weirdly paced, but the payoff was good. Love seeing Buford Isabella friendship and once again showing that Candace is extremely physically capable out of sheer stubbornness when it comes to things she is obsessive over. OF COURSE she could move the big slow heavy thing at a pace that kept up with her brothers decently well all things considered. (Candace once again proving that through Dry another day as well).

I was so stressed through license to bust bc that girl was NOT obeying the law and I needed that girl to pass. But the end of the where the driving tester let her pass because he related/valued confidence and focus makes it an episode i'll probably enjoy on rewatch.

I watched this season with some of my siblings, and I'd seen the storyboards for Candace Suit so I warned them this was going to be horrifying. And it was. I loved and Hated this episode in equal measure. It was definitely the one that got us laughing so hard we had to pause the episode the most. Screenshots of this episode are now a phone wallpaper.

Agent Teen for Teen was good. As was Stacy petsitting Perry. Everything I could have wanted… which is good but since the fandom was hanging on that plot thread for the past 10 years… it also means that there wasn't really anything this episode could do to make it something i haven't seen before by the fandom. The Stacy knows reveal to Carl and Monogram WAS unexpected though.

Tropey McTropeface

Seeing Candace happily wash Perry was super cute… but also why did she get that chore?? Like Phineas and Ferb wouldn't have jumped at the opportunity. Anyway, Candace growth.

Happy to see the talking Zebra. (Still HC that Candace subconsciously knows Perry's secret with all the plot development)

The therapist episode was NOT what I was expecting. That poor man. Though Linda being so distracted was… odd. She's never paying attention to what Candace wants her to sure but it seemed a bit dialed up in this episode.

the fact the couch from Cloudy with a chance of mom came back.

Bread Bowl Hottub is the new Canoe isn't it. (I loved the Canoe)

Baljeet getting to be violent is always great. Baljeet growing from generic nerd to nerd with aggressive tendencies is fantastic.

Say what you will about Meap Me in St. Louis but I appreciated finally meeting Meap's Significant Other and Candace's strong sense of justice being recognized for what it is and her getting to become an (honorary) officer. The main plot of Meap going to Candace for assistance/Candace having a notable position of authority in space is something I've headcanoned and a natural followup to the first Meap episode.

Complaints (non-comphrehensive):

Need more Jeremy. He's the other half of Candace's obsessiveness so I need more peak couple (could also use more Phinebella but whatever, Isabella calling Linda her future mother in law got me though).

Need more Baljeet. I know he can be weirder.

I have mixed feelings on Lord of the Fireside, fun but I want more of the girls ACTUAL personalities. I called immediately that they were out of character for some reason.

I mean, I don't think the show needed to be too samey… but I kinda wish there were a few more callback episodes…. like things that happened. I know it sounds boring but it can be someone's birthday again with a totally different plot. The midsummer festival again, or the summer solstice again. We can do different plots with the same dates. Make it actually FEEL like a new summer.

They need more space. Like going to space. Also more travel. The only example this episode was the cruise… but it might as well have still been in Danville for all the Danville characters present (it was nice to see pnf playing with OTHER kids though). What about the cabin in the woods? Or England? Or the Moon?

Phineas and Ferb is a show built on running gags and callbacks so the presence of them doesn't bother me… but it is kind of disappointing that the call backs are mostly of things that are memes.

I need more Candace and the Backyard gang.

Actually I need more of the Flynn-Fletcher's too.

Chip to the vet could have used more overlap in storylines… which is weird to say about a season that otherwise has had a lot of overlap in storylines… but PnF were right there. Are you telling me they didn't try sending Perry through the pet wash???

Carl was promoted to paid intern in the where's perry specials. Still literally unpaid of course, but still.

Could use more MML callbacks.

Sleepover episode such a disappointment tbh. The casual drop of Vanessa's awareness Perry, but Perry not even being at the house. Also they could have at least namedropped Jenny. Like. I want the kids to have fun together. I know Candace is suffering but she deserves to be happy sometimes. :(

St. Louis is not pronounced like that. Also, you can go into the Arch. There are windows at the top because there is a visitors deck. The visitors center is literally underground, under the arch. Lifting the treasure would also lift the visitors center. IN fairness... the portrayal of the Mt. Rushmore is also inaccurate. But like. St. Louis arch is a building you enter. It's kinda laughably bad. Though, the actual best part of St. Louis is the City museum imo. Phineas and Ferb would love that place.

[alicelillianshaw]

Alice watches Jack's smile, returning a grin as she eyes him holding his own packed duffel. All set for this trip.

All set for New Mexico, the massive sky that waited, deep red canyons and constellations and sagebrush and stones, stones a billion shades of blue.

It made something inside her tremble and soar, a bird lifting off for flight.

It was really happening.

'You look exactly like me when I wear that. I don't think people would be able to tell the difference.'

Hah. She exhales, shaking her head. Yeah. Minus the glaring height difference.

"I'm not sure what to say if we land and someone asks me for a sound bite about new zoning bills or anything like that."

Alice extends her leg. Watches the way the cuff of the sweatpants billows over her ankle, clearly too large.

"I also don't think I quite have your innate aplomb. And coolness. But I appreciate you saying that."

Yeah— you typically had to have an air about you, to get elected. A certain something that grabbed people's attention. Jack certainly did. Jack could wear anything and look confident.

She can only imagine how he'd look in New Mexico. Beneath the blazing sun, casting everything in brilliant warmth. Beneath the setting sky. Beneath the night sky, looking beautiful, head crowned by stars.

She watches as he picks up their bags. Departure imminent. The night had started with shock, painted on both of their faces, what happened in the office, and now it was this— them about to leave. Them, New Mexico. Alice's mind is racing far ahead, feeling hopeful, feeling excited for everything in their future. They could handle the other things. Together. They would find a stone to match hers.

'Car's here. Cora's sitter is also on the way. Anything else you need to bring? Last chance.'

Alice pauses— then immediately shakes her head. What else was needed?

On this trip, and in general? Alice thinks she has all she needs.

"I'm all set. You're going. As long as you're going, the rest doesn't matter."

She plays with the hem of her shirt— Jack's shirt — idly.

"Though. I did pack my writing journal. Not my work one."

How could she not? With all the things he inspired.

Jack walked into his bathroom, shutting the door behind him. He'd already packed the essentials — tooth brush, razor, shampoo, body wash. That was all neatly tucked away in his duffel bag. But there were a few other things that he'd been hesitant to pack. After Alice had caught Jack in his office, he really, really didn't want to bring any pills. Definitely no coke, but. But. He needed them, and Alice just… didn't understand. And he didn't want to make her understand. He had a feeling she never would, and it wasn't a problem anyway, so why did it matter? He wanted the next few days to be nice. If he didn't bring any pills with him, he just … wouldn't sleep. He'd be awake for days on end, and it'd be miserable for Alice. So, without another thought, Jack reached for the little baggies of pills. He'd thought of the perfect plan, actually.

There was an old bottle of hydroxyzine from a few months back. It was an antihistamine, used off label to treat anxiety, and it was generally nonaddictive. It was prescribed to Jack by his primary care physician to help with some of the "panic attacks" he'd been having. It made the average person drowsy. Not Jack. They hadn't worked for Jack, no matter how many he took. He was superhuman like that.

Jack dumped the leftover pills into the toilet, flushing them, before filling the bottle with Xanax and Adderall. He wouldn't bring coke. Adderall would be fine for a few days. As long as Alice didn't look inside (and he'd make sure she didn't), she'd never know the difference. The outside of the bottle said: take 1-2 pills as needed for anxiety/sleep. Prescribed to Jackson E. Kennedy. Refills remaining: 0. Yeah, this worked. In fact, Jack thought he could leave the pills on the nightstand of wherever they stayed. A (scummy) display of trust, so Alice would see that he was taking real medicine prescribed to him.

Jack walked out of his room, duffel bag in hand, particularly proud of his own cleverness. Alice was standing there in … all of his clothes, it seemed. His favorite Knicks t-shirt, sweatpants that were too big on her. And — were those the socks he'd packed for her, too? Jack smiled, trying not to feel guilty.

"You look exactly like me when I wear that. I don't think people would be able to tell the difference."

Jack reached for both of their bags, heading in the direction of the stairs.

"Car's here. Cora's sitter is also on the way. Anything else you need to bring? Last chance."

[pomefioredove]

the final act

if you're reading this, then the queue has run out, I've muted my posts, and closed requests for good. important things first: ad perpetuam memoriam (maybe cauldron of the reborn and noble bell, too) will continue, because I like it and have committed myself to finishing it. I was initially going to move it to ao3 but since ao3 is always having some kind of problem, it'll stay here.

aside from that, I am choosing to abandon this blog.

this decision wasn't easy but, well, for the best. for the past few months my posts have not been landing- I've excused this for my series, as I know AU and/or canon-divergent are not going to be everyone's cup of tea, but even my requests have received lackluster responses, which have led me to the conclusion that they aren't being read, except by a few followers (mostly my friends, whom I love). I'm not shadowbanned, and I have over 3,000 followers who are not bots, so it's not for lack of audience.

I experimented- changing formatting, adding more descriptive summaries, updating my graphics, adjusting the queue, writing more, writing less, but with few exceptions, nothing has really worked. I took the month of march off because it was causing me so much mental stress, and since then I've just felt really depressed about it. the disappointing response, negative/rude comments, and expenditure of energy I gave to trying to turn a response, were no help. this is, as I hope you'll understand, disheartening- especially while seeing other writers get thousands of notes for similar styles and lengths of fics. if there were ever a sign from the universe that it's time to move on, that would be it.

I sincerely appreciate the few of you who left kind comments, tags, and asks for me to read- you were noticed, and you are very loved. I tried to respond to everyone I could. many of you will be joining me as I move on to other blogs, some of you will remain, I'm grateful for all of you. the majority of my time here has been extremely rewarding. I've met some terrific people in this fandom.

to those on my other blogs: I'm looking forward to having more freedom to write for you in the future!

to those only here: ...well, there are a thousand blogs just like mine, and if there's anything this experience has taught me, it's that they deserve the attention more than I do.

finally, I don't want to make it seem like this was about notes; some of my proudest works have received very few, it's always been the conversation that mattered (read fandom potluck). I also don't want to make it seem like it was any one person's fault; I know I'm bad at doing romance and don't have a good sense of humor, so my writing has always been about character moments, drama, and angst, which is generally not what people want to read; my only strengths in writing turned out to be my downfall, haha. so I think it's time to move on to projects and fandoms that are better suited to my style and strengths in writing o7

lastly, I've taken down some fics because I got mean comments on them and I'm a sensitive autist. salukes!

[pink-nightmare-lab]

✨🦇 General!Lilia Vanrouge Scenario🦇✨

NSFW warning: just nudity (again), no sexual acts tho

More scenarios to my other post about being nude around each other, basically like a part 2

After a week or two, being nude around each other became very natural and made you feel even closer and not in a sexual sense but in a deep intimate bonding sense.

It was a nice sight as you sat up, yawning as the sun began to rise and Lilia was sitting in front of your vanity, still nude but that was nothing new, he brushed his long hair while you looked at his back, spotting a few scars.

During another morning, he's sitting with you on your shared bed, hugging you from behind and giving your shoulder blades gentle kisses and your neck gentle and lazy bites, feeling your warmth.

In the evening, when you both get ready for bed, you don't even really pay attention to the fact that both of you are nude, having grown that comfortable that it's only natural, because you both know, there's nothing you should be ashamed of.

Both of you are beneath the bed sheets and in each others arms, your bodies keeping each other warm, his hand gently caressing your hair.

What you have been taught was sexual and inappropriate but what he showed you was trust and love instead, replacing shame and insecurity with a deep intimate bond as it's natural.

Not even Baur or other faerie looked disgusted or surprised when Lilia mentioned that you two have reached that point in your relationship where you're sleeping nude together and since it was common sense amongst them to do that with their spouse and part of their culture, their reactions weren't anything unusual.

I just had to make a part 2, this is genuinely my favourite Lilia Vanrouge headcanon, especially because it's comforting to imagine an intimate relationship where you can trust and respect your partner in such a way because we all know how insecure people can be about their bodies, I've been insecure about my stretch marks and other things about my body so knowing I can forget about those insecurities in such a relationship makes me happy and comfortable🥹

I think it should be normalised to see your partner nude and not just plainly sexualise their body but instead just appreciate them for once without any sexual intentions🫶

I most definitely will include these nude appreciative comfy moments with Lilia in my other fics, hehe😺

[dodgeballstuckonthegymceiling]

If you like my work, please consider commissioning me or leaving a tip on Ko-fi (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

J & worker drone Reader who scavenges the surface for things to sell

★ She can appreciate a good business model. The way you go out to collect anything valuable left by JCJenson catches her attention. She was going to stop you. Then realized, is it even theft if it was abandoned? Legal loopholes were meant to be exploited. J thinks.

★ As you walk about the frozen surface of Copper 9, she watches you. Curios if you were brave or just stupid. Wondering if you'll turn back, fail, or find something worthwhile. You must be making a profit if you keep leaving the colony.

★ After Cyn is beaten by Uzi, J considers joining you. Just to have something to do. Framing it like she's doing you a favor. "Fine. I'll work with you. Just don't slow me down..." She won't trust you. At least not yet. But it's a start!

★ When it comes to making a sale, J takes charge. And she's pretty good at it! Charging as much as you'll let her and making the customer feel like they're getting a good deal. "You're lucky, usually, I wouldn't sell this for so cheap."

[messymoonmad]

the truth is that I couldn't help it (I've been with this Oc for a few weeks now), his name is Lacey, I based him on a deer, which in my base of deer people are calm, elegant, reserved and detail-oriented, appreciating tranquility and serenity. He is characterized by a fresh, serene and organized attitude, with great attention to detail. They can also be outgoing and enjoy social activities and the outdoors, and it's funny that he feels comfortable with two men who are based on a snake and a lion, but I don't know, I hope you like , what you think ♡

Its surprising how much you can achieve on gacha life these days... i like your oc ❤️

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

asdslfdjal so I don't know if you've said this before and my sincerest apologies if you have but I was just wondering

you've said before that you dislike jack in large part due to his design, but what about his character and writing?

[Referencing this post and this post!]

Unfortunately 🙂‍↕️ I’m not a fan of his character either… I appreciate his dedication and how pure of heart he can be (wanting to play by the rules, thinking about his one life partner, etc.) but I can’t say that I find that all too interesting. He’s too… “good boy” for me, I guess?? Jack feels very much like a standard rough around the edges lone wolf tsundere and I honestly don’t see how he’s different or how he stands out from similar characters.

Writing-wise, I think Jack’s… okay? It’s not that the quality of his writing is bad, it’s just that there are other issues holding his character back that aren’t necessarily Jack’s fault. It’s more like the fault of the general storytelling and the direction the devs took.

For example, Jack constantly gets shafted for events. He is one of the characters with the most event Rs and barely had any event SSRs, and therefore hardly gets spotlighted.

The few times when Jack does get attention, Twst tends to focus on one-note traits like wanting to be fit/work out rather than diversifying his interests or using those traits to imply something more about his character (okay, Jack likes to work out but why?). The most I could say is maybe something like “he is disciplined and very determined because he follows a training schedule and sleeps at 10 pm every night”. The issue is that we already know this, and it just feels like Twst continues to recycle the same facts about Jack over and over rather than coming up with new material. If you want Deep Jack Howl Lore, you need to really squint your eyes for it and read between the lines because canon is giving us not only crumbs, but STALE crumbs.

His biggest appearances in the main story aren’t super memorable either. Book 2 has notoriously bad writing, which doesn’t help Jack’s first appearance, and he’s more of a detriment than a help in book 3 (as Azul catches us in his office because of Jack’s tail). Book 2 tried to do something interesting by having Jack feel betrayed by his dorm leader, whom he idolized, but this idea was poorly conveyed and did not allow for the full extent of Jack’s feelings to be communicated. It’s not until his dream in late book 7 that we get to see just how much this betrayal truly devastated Jack—and that’s far too late to make amends for the damage caused by book 2.

#JusticeForJackHowl 😤

[macsimagines]

Hello! I found you when you wrote "Yandere!Mikey w/ a S/O that had his child" and I've been obsessed with your blog ever since! 

Can I request something similar with Izana? Like Izana baby trapped darling, but darling is terrified at the thought of Izana being a father (and maybe tries to hide or run away from Izana).  I hope that’s not too specific.

WARNINGS: YANDERE BEHAVIOR, MINORS DNI, ABUSE, MANIPULATION, POSSIVE AND OBSESSIVE BEHAVIOR, KIDNAPPING

Yandere!Izana Kurokawa

Leaving him was the worst possible decision you could have made. He's so caught up in cursing your name and wallowing in his own self-pity.

"I'll fucking kill her for walking out," 'What did I expect? Of course she left.' "That bitch doesn't get to walk out on me." 'It's what I deserve.' "She's fucking mine. She chose me." 'No one ever chooses me.'

After the first few months of trying to locate you, he realizes it's just killing him. And he can't die until he makes you pay. So, for now you're on the back burner. Eyes and ears always listening in and searching, but not a full-blown bloody man hunt.

He can just save that bloodbath for when he has you again.

Years later, when he least's expects it, an informant gives him a lead on your location. A small fishing island off the coast, far and rural, filled with a population that had no interest in what went on outside of their community.

Smart. You picked good camouflage. Too bad during all these years Izana had been collecting all sorts of ideas on how to torture and maim you for leaving him. But those thoughts end when he catches sight of a child in those photos.

A little boy. His fucking clone put into a toddler's form. Izana recognizes his own features instantly; you'd have to be blind to think that he belonged to anyone else.

Belonged. That has Izana's heart clutching and aching in his chest when his fingers pinch the photo tightly. That was his son, his family. And you tried to take it from him.

Izana wants to hurt you now more than he ever has. He honestly wants to kill you and just take your son, but there is also this deep-seated ugly need for you to just accept him.

So, when he shows up at your door, making it abundantly clear you're fucking coming home with him, he starts enacting a cruel plan he cooked up just to torture you.

He isolates you from your son, Izana demands to become his main care giver. He takes him to work with him, just lavishes him in all of his attention and even makes meals and dresses him.

He takes over as caretaker and provider in your son's eyes and makes you look useless and incompetent. You're only allowed to see your son, for mealtimes, or when Izana allows it.

"Mommy is just too busy for you buddy. But don't worry. I'll never leave you."

Izana makes sure you're watching too, how your son slowly stops asking for you or even wanting you. Eventually he just starts straight up pretending you don't exist at all. And that's really the main goal. Prove to you he could be a perfect parent, a deserving father. He could've given you the perfect family.

"Y'know," he tells you one night in bed, "Maybe if you tried appreciating me more, I'd let you around our son more. If only you weren't such a terrible influence."