#positions fics

[turcott3]

main thing

kirby dach x fem! reader

warnings?: mild smut at the beginning, disgustingly tooth rottingly sweet fluff and cursing (i wrote this for myself and my delusions tbh)

~all i wanna do is spend my time with you, even when the learnings done and nothings new~

positions fics masterlist

-

“oh fuck.” you moan out. you could feel his bright blue eyes piercing your body as your eyes squeezed shut, an orgasm quickly approaching.

“so so good for me baby.” he coos as you collapse over his chest, feeling weak and shaky as your orgasm jolts through your body, hips stuttering as he coated your walls with his own high. you laid on his chest as you both breathed heavily.

“i love you so fucking much.” you say between breaths, pressing a sweet kiss to his jaw.

“i love you more.” he replies, delicately wrapping his arms around your weak body. you laid there for a moment inhaling his sweet scent with your eyes shut.

“baby, you gotta get up.” he giggles brushing your hair out of your face as you sat up slowly. you get up off of him, collecting his discarded shirt and pulling it on over your freshly-fucked body. it was moments like these that you felt the most beautiful. you learned very quickly that post sex glow is very real if you're with the right person.

you slid on your underwear and pulled the lazy brunette out of bed, forcing him to put sweatpants on and tugging him into the kitchen.

"y/n it's 11 pm."

"and i want a bowl of cereal with my boyfriend? i dont see the issue." you giggle as you pull the bowls out of the cabinet.

"fair." he replies emerging from the pantry with the box. this was your average night. you always see couples going out together and partying, which was fun in the beginning but you both quickly learned that both of you preferred staying home with each other. you were home bodies.

“hey baby.” he muffled with his mouth full.

“yeah.” you replied after you swallowed.

“you need your back rubs tonight? you didn’t get em last night.” he says finishing his bite.

“oh, you don’t have to it’s okay.” you reply, heart melting at the gesture. when you were younger, you dislodged a disk in your back during your solo. it had bothered you ever since. occasionally causing you intense pain and somehow, every show week you had he remembered. he’s spent the whole season out with and injury which was both a blessing and a curse. you loved that he was always at your beck and call but it broke your heart knowing that he had to miss an entire season of the one thing he’s most passionate about.

“you don’t seem relaxed, you seem stiff.” he replies which was the truth but most times it felt ,to you, like a burden on him.

“kirbs, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.” you reply running your finger through his soft curls.

“no i do want to. i want to make sure you sleep so good tonight. you have a big show coming up baby. i can’t wait to see you look so fucking beautiful on that stage.” he smiles, kissing your cheek sweetly.

“okay.” you smile at the gesture, putting the bowls into the sink. you laid flat on your mattress, pulling the shirt up to your shoulders as his warm hands worked out the tightness of your muscles. you sighed as the pressure was lifted from your back and into thin air. you frowned as his hands left your back for the last time.

“feel better pretty girl?” he says lowly close to your ear and you hum in approval as he presses a soft kiss to your back. a ritual the two of you shared, kissing your “ouchies” better.

it could be all in your head, but it felt like the pressure of his kiss always solved your pain. physical, or emotional.

“thank you baby.” you smile sitting up as a relief washed over your body.

“of course.” he smiles back, kissing you sweetly on the lips. only a smile and a giggle breaking it apart.

“you ready for bed sleepy girl, you got a big rehearsal tomorrow.” he says as you tuck yourself into bed.

“oh definitely.” you yawn out as he joins you in bed. you roll over facing the boy who was already admiring you.

“sorry for staring.” he giggles.

“oh never apologize for that, i’m just as guilty.” you giggle as he pulls you to his chest snuggly.

“you’re just so gorgeous, my beautiful baby.” he whispers into your hair.

“stop.” you giggle turning red.

“what? am i not about to gloat about how lucky i am to be with someone as beautiful and talented and sweet and,”

“kirby.” you say sternly leaning up to his cheesy smile.

“what?” he giggles.

“not too much, you know me and compliments.”

“baby i already told you, you just need to say thank you, you do not have to compliment me back. just let me admire my gorgeous girlfriend.” he replies kissing you on the forehead as he speaks.

“thank you.” you smile.

“of course, you deserve it all baby,” he says placing his chin on the top of your head.

“goodnight my love.” he whispers

“goodnight handsome.” you giggle, pressing a short, sweet kiss to his lips.

the pet names practically made you sick to your stomach with sweetness but with time you grew to love them. you felt so lucky to have been chosen by a man like him. so effortlessly loving and generous.

“i love you.” he whispers, reaching to pull the lamp chain.

“i love you.” you reply as your eyes grow heavy at the sound of his heart thumping calmly in his chest.

-

[king-nyx]

Say it with me now

You are never late to a fandom. Your fic is never "invalid" for being "late". Your fic doesn't need a high word limit. Your fic does not need a high standard. Your fic does not need to be highly popular. Your fic isn't less valid than a popular author's fic. Your fic isn't inheritly bad. Your fic is amazing. Your fic is valid. The only thing that matters is that you're having fun. Fandom is not consumption and consumerism. Fandom is fun, free and for the people. Fandom is not a popularity contest. We're all nerds at the end of the day.

[bebx]

fanfic writers are so fucking awesome in the sense that they can take one single scene, that lasts less than a minute, from the source material and turn that one single scene into a 40k word long fic with depth, feels, character study and development and create a whole storyline out of that one single canonical moment.

fanfic writers are so fucking awesome in the sense that they can take one single scene, that lasts less than a minute, from the source material and write 40 entirely different fics about that one single canonical moment and each one of those fics is a literal masterpiece.

shout out to us fanfic writers ♡♡♡♡♡♡

[the-bar-sinister]

This is your signal to let yourself write the deranged, uncomfortable, disgusting fiction that you've been thinking about.

[so-many-ocs]

“everyone is going to hate it” someone will love it. someone will reach out to you and tell you it changed their life. someone will hold it close and treasure it forever in a way you can’t even understand. keep going

[museaway]

I hope the fic you are working on right now finds a reader who will think about it constantly for years

[actualaster]

Everybody always talks about "oops the fic was longer than it was meant to be"

But shoutout to my fellow "can't/can rarely write a multichap/anything longer than 5k or so max, often way less" writers who just can't seen to stop their fic from being shorter than intended.

Anyway longform and shortform writing are different skillsets and while fandom often only cares about, appreciates, and praises the former, I always love you, fellow shorter fic writers. A drabble is a challenge, and not every story needs to be 30k+. Shorter fics are amazing.

[umblrspectrum]

tessa, being the edgy little freak she is, obviously took the original darkxwolf username

[frownyalfred]

this makes me! so happy! fanfic isn’t something embarrassing! it’s this awesome world of new endings, AUs, character dives, “what ifs?” and even more!

[jaybirbie]

DpxDc prompt Deadserious

Damian carried 2 swords. The first was gifted to him by his mother and was the only one he was ever seen using.

The second was also a gift, a beautiful sword made of ice with a green shine. The blade is able to take upon almost any foe, able to cut through titanium or any manner of creature.

The sword was gifted to him just before his arrival in Gotham by his beloved betrothed Prince Daniel Phantom of the Infinite Realms. They had trained alongside each other since they could walk.

Daniel had crafted Damian the sword to keep him safe! It would always remain by his side and return to him unless he willingly gave it up.

So there was no way he was letting the Justice League take it from him even if they could, just because Constantine and Zantana claimed it was too dangerous for the hands of a teenager.

But what was he supposed to do? Just let Darkseid kill them all?

[starleska]

as a cringe selfshipper who's been in fandom for decades and draws nothing but blushy ship art, i feel so seen and so attacked right now 😂💖💖💖

[bookished]

( a collection of starters or dialogue prompts. adjust phrasing as necessary.) feel free to make edits to better suit your muse, but please don’t edit or add on to the original post <𝟑 if you like, please consider supporting me through tips

"You don’t get it, do you? Every time I walk away, the ground pulls me back toward you like I’m tethered to this place, to you!"

"I swear, even the rain mocks me, falling harder every time I try to forget you!"

"Why is it that every time I try to move on, the stars spell out your name like they’re taunting me?"

"I hate how every single flower blooms brighter when I think of you! It’s like even nature is against me!"

"I can’t stand it! Every time I get close to letting you go, the wind whispers your name, like it won’t let me forget!"

"Every time I try to bury these feelings, the earth shakes beneath my feet as if it knows what I’m doing!"

"I’ve tried to walk away a hundred times, but every shadow, every flicker of light reminds me of you. It’s like you haunt me!"

"Even the ocean keeps pulling me back to the shore where we stood. Do you know how infuriating that is? I’m drowning in memories of you!"

"Every time I close my eyes, the wind rushes in like it’s carrying your scent! I can’t escape you, even in my dreams!"

"I’ve screamed at the stars, demanded they stop reminding me of you, but they just burn brighter. They know, don’t they? They know!"

"You have no idea how much I’ve fought against this, how much I’ve tried to tear you out of my life, but even the trees whisper your name!"

"It’s like the moon itself mocks me, shining brighter whenever I think of you! It’s unbearable!"

"I hate how even the fire crackles louder when I’m angry with you, like it’s feeding on my frustration! But I can’t stop!"

"Do you know what it’s like to try and forget you, only for the rivers to murmur your name every time I pass by?"

"I curse your name every time I see the sun set, but it still paints the sky in colors that remind me of you!"

"I tried to burn the letters, the memories, but the fire wouldn’t take them! It’s like the universe won’t let me forget you!"

"Every time I get close to leaving, the stars realign, the air shifts, and it feels like the world won’t let me go!"

"You think I want to feel this way? Even the storms rise up when I try to let you go, like the sky is angry at me!"

"I’ve tried to bury it, to push you out, but even the ground beneath me trembles with your name!"

"Every time I get close to moving on, the world bends in your direction! Why can’t I escape this?"

[alice-everafter]

"Stop moving around, herbivore."

The otherwise heavy silence is broken by Leona's deep timber of a voice. Rolling onto your back puts you in line of sight of his bed, where you can see the Savanna prince half covered in sheets you couldn't even afford to breathe on. He's facing away from you, barely moving. If he hadn't just spoken you'd assume he was dead or something.

"I could hear your squirming from half way across campus. Settle down or get out, you're disturbing my sleep."

"...Sorry." Your throat twinges with the faint reminder of how you got to sleep in the dorm room of Leona Kingscholar in the first place.

After being so rudely ejected from your beloved Ramshackle home on such short notice, possible sleeping arrangements were few and far between. Now, you could've taken Ace and Deuce up on their offer, but Jack was... he was Jack. And only Jack could convince you to stay in Savanaclaw. But, then Leona had to come and say no, and then you panicked cause you saw yourself and Grim on the street. And that panic plus the sleep deprivation from finals lead you to perform your own rendition of "Cotton Eye Joe" outside his bedroom out of sheer desperation.

You didn't even get to the second verse before he bodily dragged you inside with a growl that had you accepting death like an unspoken principle.

The room was once again blanketed in a thick silence. Grim, who slept by your feet, didn't even make a peep. Banging those pots around while providing you backing vocals must've taken it out of him. Poor guy. Out of anyone in this room, he's the one you'd feel the most bad for disturbing.

So, with a sigh, you accept your fate and get up from your collection of floor blankets. Your destination being one of the Savanaclaw couches.

You knew your mind, you wouldn't be sleeping for a while. There was just... too much. Azul and his contracts, Jade and Floyd and their sharp teeth, Leona and his eyes. The ones that once looked at you like you were vermin to crush through the haze of a raging sandstorm. While Ruggie batted and kicked and cried for breath. And you swore his eyes had glazed over as he fell limp and━

"Hey."

You stop, both bodily and mentally, as his voice once again breaks the silence. There's a cold sweat you didn't notice gathering on your back. You turn to find him staring at you with those same green eyes. You can't tell if he's searching for something in you or debating heavily with himself. But, whatever it is, it isn't for long before he seems to come to a conclusion with a rumbling sigh.

"Come here."

What. "What."

"You heard me, come here."

To say you were conflicted would be the understatement of the century. You had just been spiraling not even 30 seconds ago and now the object of your trauma was beckoning you closer like the parent to your distressed child.

"I don't have all day, herbivore. You coming or not?"

"...It's night."

"..."

"..."

"Just get over here before I change my mind."

"Right."

He heaves another grumbling sigh as you shuffle across the room. Stood next to his bed gives you a view reminiscent of that time in the greenhouse. Him, splayed across his bed, hair cascading over his pillows. While you're stock still and more than a bit puzzled and kind of scared. Even though you're looking down on him, you don't feel like you have the advantage that you should. He looks almost too calm, too relaxed. Like he's assured of a victory yet to come.

That thought sends a chill up your spine, reminding you of the sweat that persists on your back.

"Well?" He raises a brow expectantly.

You blink, "well, what?"

"Are you laying down or what?"

"...Am I laying down or what?"

"Need me to spell it out for you? Or should I help you into bed?"

"Not necessary."

You don't know what possesses you━whether it's self preservation or annoyance or curiosity or just straight madness━but you get in. You pull back those luxurious sheets and slide beneath them where you're immediately accosted by warmth. Heat seems to be radiating from him like a fire.

The revelation is... not an unpleasant one.

You realize he's still staring at you. But, not intently, not like he's trying to pry a secret from you. Leona never looks at anyone like he means to take their person apart. He simply observes and acknowledges, anyone and anything.

"Think you can finally go to bed and stop flopping around like a dead fish?"

"...Haven't I dealt with enough fish today? And now you bring them up in Savanaclaw of all places. Is no where safe?"

You're surprised when his brows pinch in amusement and a short but gruff chuckle leaves his lips.

"My bad then, for touching on such a tender topic."

"Yeah, your bad indeed."

No one says anything else afterward and he seems to take that as an invitation to turn onto his back. Letting out a deep breath through his nose while nestling an arm behind his head, eyes sliding shut.

Somewhere between you climbing into his bed and him settling down to sleep, the sweat has cooled off your skin. Not to mention the sudden heaviness dragging at your eyelids. Seems that you would be able to sleep some after all.

You turn away and towards the open balcony, towards the spot where you had once laid and Grim continues to snooze. The moon lights up the room, and though it's not the sun, it still feels just as warm somehow.

Speaking of warm, there's a heater pressed to your back. Scratch that, Leona is pressed to your back. And that's his arm, sliding over your hip and resting draped over your side.

It feels like the world hiccups when you feel his next breath puff against your hair. But, surprisingly enough, you're not shaking in your metaphorical boots. Just... very confused, once again.

"...Is this supposed to be punishment for 'Cotton Eye Joe?'"

He says nothing at first, and you begin to fear for your safety before he eventually does.

"Whatever helps put you to bed faster."

That arm over your side moves before you feel his hand settle atop your collarbone. Those same hands that had once brought ruin and pain were now just a small brush away from your neck.

This should terrify you, but it doesn't. Because he's gentle in this moment. His arm isn't an insistent press, it's a steady weight. His hand isn't a branding clasp, it's a soft touch.

There are words left unsaid between you two that his body seems to carry instead. And you drift off with the feeling of his tail draping over your ankles beneath the sheets.

[bibxrbie]

"Luke Skywalker isn’t like the old Jedi. He saves Vader with his attachments!”

Wrong!

Luke Skywalker, at the end of Return of the Jedi, after his confrontation with the Emperor drags Darth Vader through the destructing Death Star. He’s desperate, knuckles white under the heavy weight of his father’s body, a little boy dragging his dad to safety. He sets Vader down for a moment, to catch his breath or maybe to get a better grip. He goes to grab Vader again, but Vader, uncomfortable and in pain, asks Luke to take off the mask. He wants to see Luke through his eyes instead of the eyes Palpatine built for him. Luke refuses, says that removing the mask is a sure way for Vader to die. Luke doesn’t want Vader dead, he wants Vader alive. Not to hold him accountable for his many evil acts, but for the same reason why Luke Skywalker can’t kill Darth Vader; Vader is his father and Luke loves him.

And yet, after a moment, Luke removes Vader’s mask. He doesn’t want to, he hesitates, but he removes the mask with enough slowness to allow Vader to take it back. In that moment, Luke sets aside his desire for Vader in his life, sets aside his desire to see him live, and sets aside his entire mission, the reason he was even on the Death Star in the place. In his compassion for his father, Luke stays with Vader until he dies. It is this moment where we see him be the best damn Jedi he can be. I’d even argue that this moment is the greatest example of non-attached love we see. Because Luke lets Vader go! He lets his father die, and in some ways, by removing the mask, he too kills Vader, he stays with him until his last moment, gives him the kindness of granting his last wish and finally chooses Vader.

And Luke doesn’t have to do this. If Luke Skywalker’s love for his father was an attachment, he would ignore Vader and continue dragging him to the escape pod, put his desire for a father as his central focus and ignore Vader’s wants and discomfort. Maybe he would even save him. But he doesn’t. Instead, he watches as Vader dies.

He builds a Jedi burial for his father and watches it burn the remnants of Vader and Anakin Skywalker away. He mourns Vader, he mourns what they could’ve had as father and son, considers what ifs and maybe-if-I-did-this. Vader/ Anakin is released from his mortal body, from his ‘crude matter’ and Luke lets him go. He says one final goodbye to Anakin. Then, he joins Leia, Han, Chewie, Lando, and the rest of the Rebels and celebrates their victory. He lives in the present and celebrates what he has instead of what he lost.

Luke Skywalker is THE Jedi. Everything about Luke Skywalker serves as the foundational cornerstone of the Jedi, everything about the Jedi as a culture and philosophy is reflected in his character. Luke’s desire for the New Jedi Order isn’t to throw away the values of the old Order, but to vitalise them, breathe life back into dying lungs, and rebuild a path that people set out on their way to destroy. (Yes, his Order is different from the Old, but that’s because it has to be. He doesn’t have the resources or the safety of the Old Order.) The philosophies of the Jedi are difficult and they aren’t for everyone, and like the perfect Jedi that Luke is, he struggles and stumbles and sometimes he even rejects it. But, no matter how far he falls, it is a way of life he chooses again and again and again. It is a way of life that welcomes him back each time

[nightthinker-08]

I couldn't sleep so I drew some Pomnies shes surprisingly fun to draw lol Oh and some doomed yuri too I guess xD buttonblossom is cute n all but calling them doomed yuri or digital yuri is a lot funnier to me

[xx-lun4c3st-xx]

Need proshippers to reclaim Ao3 frfr cuz- ??? why antis on a profic site….complaining that its profic