#sorry to op for putting this here lol

[piningpercussionist]

I keep watching in mild disappointment as the notes on it keep going up, but in lieu of a response from the OP over on twitter- this post is a repost, yall. You can find the original here (again, on twitter,) if you want to show the artist some love for their work.

[xannerz]

cool story - still continued to repeatedly harass folks in the fandom, be an edgelord, throw tantrums in ppl's inboxes, feti$h mine, fish for free fanwork, and just generally be annoying & insistent abt personal headcanons and k1nks

[fooligandan]

ok but putting wx against the undertale ghost was literally a rigged poll

[03roaches]

Working in an entirely republican establishment is so suffocating I genuinely feel awful every time I get back home

[truecorvid]

starting to suspect that i am not very good at engaging in open/honest/non judgmental conversations on the internet actually

[maxlarens]

OP: well, that isn't fucking relevant

pairing(s): oscar piastri x mercedes driver!reader

summary: someone tries to threaten your job, oscar has some choice words for him. (OR: the trials and tribulations of being a woman in a male dominated sport)

word count: 2.7k+

an: i kinda hate the white knight trope but i still wrote this lol, it scratches an itch and i think driver!reader did a sufficient amount of defending of herself beforehand. anyway, this is a one shot that's kind of connected to my smau series just a girl. enjoy!!!!! [also standard disclaimer: this does not reflect the opinions of any real life people/companies/organisations/etc. it is fiction. thank you]

You’re no stranger to sexism in Formula racing— you knew going into this that you’d have to deal with thinly veiled remarks about your gender and purposefully obtuse questions from reporters who think they know more than you about the sport you’ve dedicated your life to. You had to deal with it when you were karting, you had to deal with it during your stint in F2, and you have to deal with it now.

The fact of the matter is that some people do not think you belong here, and therefore are entirely unable to integrate the reality that you are very much here to stay, into their worldview. You’re lucky to have somehow earned Lewis’ loyalty, which had brought the Mercedes contract and the support of Toto simultaneously. Mercedes-AMG aren’t making leaps and bounds into the world of feminism, but you’re grateful for the seat regardless. You’re here and not going anywhere if you can help it.

You try your best to stay off the bad parts of social media, so as not to be subjected to the barrage of hate comments and death threats directed your way. You’re tough— but no one’s that tough. It’s fine for the most part. You focus on the racing, how the car feels, your performance and improving it weekend after weekend. You try at least. You’d love to leave your gender entirely out of the mix, you don’t think it’s relevant frankly. But unfortunately, the reporters do. (And so do some choice individuals working on the grid, who just can’t seem to keep their big fucking mouths shut about you.)

It’s disappointing, sure— but not surprising to sit down at a press conference and get a smattering of questions about your rumoured relationships and extracurricular activities when every other driver gets fifty questions practically thrown at them about their performance, or FIA regulations, or the track conditions. The part that bothers you the most is honestly just the lack of interest. It’s like they don’t think anything you have to say about the sport is valuable so they just don’t ask you the same questions they bother to ask the men. That probably is the actual case too.

So— y’know— you’re not that shocked when a reporter from some sports blog you’ve never heard of straight out asks if you “expect to be switched out with another female driver next year?”

The room goes dead fucking silent in a way that you do actually find satisfying. It’s good to know that most of the reporters in the room do know a tactless question when they hear one, or at least that you inspire enough fear in people that they’re waiting with bated breath to hear your response. Next to you, Oscar tenses, you can feel it where your thighs are touching. You can imagine his face right now without looking, that pinched micro-grimace he does. The barest hint of a crease in the bridge of his nose as he tries not to scowl. You want to put your hand on his knee and squeeze it in thanks.

You don’t. Instead, you frown and cock your head to the side, meeting the eyes of the reporter across the room.

Slowly, measuredly, you repeat, “I’m sorry, do I expect to be replaced with another female driver next year? Is that what you said?”

He nods, bringing the microphone closer to his mouth as if you really couldn’t hear him the first time, “Yes, yeah. That is what I asked.”

You hum, pursing your lips as if you’re sincerely considering his question. You can see a few people in the crowd who are cringing already, some of them have been on the receiving end of your tendency to play with your food before you eat it. Your ego feels pretty good about that.

“Why would Mercedes want to replace me?” you ask in your most polite voice, feigning real curiosity to this man who you doubt has done any research at all on you.

“Um,” he errs, some of his former unflappable confidence leeching out of his tone, “Well, to give more women a chance in Formula One—”

You start to speak over him, done with entertaining his ignorance. You bite, “—there are other teams for that, actually. I don’t think it’s presumptuous to say that I’ve earned my seat at Mercedes, or that I’ve proven that I belong here so far this season. In which, I have not qualified or placed below a P7. And I certainly don’t think it’s fair of you to ask if I am going to voluntarily give up my hard-earned seat to another person because you think I am here because of some women’s inclusion effort by Mercedes. And, okay, who knows, maybe I am. But I am not giving up this seat without a fight, nor do I imagine that Mercedes are in a rush to find someone to replace me right now. You’ll have to ask someone to confirm that though.”

You wind down after that, punctuating your point with a firm nod; some of the fight and the fury seeping out as you start to reckon with the potential consequences of your outburst. Mercedes’ PR rep will have something to say surely, you’re just hoping you haven’t crossed some kind of uncrossable line. Another part of you doesn’t quite care as you watch the reporter gape like a fish out of water, feeling rather satisfied that you’d put him in his place.

Eventually, the room recovers and moves on from you. Checo is getting asked his opinion on tyres while you share a furtive glance with Oscar. He smiles approvingly, mouth closed and the apples of his cheeks pushed up into his eyes. You feel the urge to touch his knee again but resist, instead smiling back as covertly as you possibly can. A warm feeling spreads in your chest and you almost forget about the reporter and his stupid question in favour of watching Oscar’s slow-burn smile.

Mercedes is fine with it, it turns out. Apparently, you’re doing the heavy lifting for them in the feminism department and all they have to do is have Toto or someone come out and say a few words in agreement. It suits them fine, they don’t need to take any hard stances and you get the blame if anything goes horribly wrong. That grates at you, of course it does. But you’ve got a seat, haven’t you? You’re not going to give it up because Mercedes are covering their asses like the multibillion-dollar company that they are.

It means you’ve avoided the all-hands-on-deck PR meeting you thought you’d be stuck in tonight, but it’s left you in too sour a mood for this party. It’s some function, fundraiser, something or other and they’ve invited all the teams, drivers and ‘important’ FIA staff. This means there’s an inordinate amount of people here and you’re really not into it.

But you’re still here. You’ve shoved yourself into a cute, strappy, black top, and a denim mini-skirt and you’ve even added some cute jewellery in a feeble attempt to match whatever over-the-top outfit Lewis has arrived in. It’s at least a step up from your usual team polo and leggings, or the Mercedes hoodie that you pull on over it. You’re comfortable. You’re fine.

You pull a hand out of the pocket of your oversized leather jacket as Oscar comes back over with your beer. You smile at the expression on his face as you take the neck in between your fingers. He’s scowling openly, the corners of his lips curled up in distaste.

“Busy?” you ask, then you hold up the beer in thanks, “Cheers, by the way.”

“Hmm, too crowded,” he affirms, “I lost Lando.”

You shrug, taking a swig of the refreshingly cold beer, “Actually? Or did he run off with someone?”

Oscar snorts, “Yeah, no. He got into a conversation with Max.”

You laugh, “Yeah, in that case, I reckon we’ll see Lando in a few hours.”

“Definitely.”

The two of you share an amused smile before you’re back to looking into the crowd because sometimes, it’s hard for you to look at him— like looking directly into the sun. You’re aware of him in your periphery, standing there and rocking back and forth on his heels, occasionally taking a sip of his drink. He looks away for a moment, and you turn to look at him. Taking in the endearing swoop of his hair, the scattering of freckles and moles on the side of his pale face, the long line of his neck disappearing into the collar of his shirt. You shift your eyes slightly to the right of him, to the patchwork of vents and scaffolding in the ceiling, feigning as if you’d only been casually looking his way.

“That reporter was a piece of work,” Oscar says once he’s drifted his attention back to you.

You roll your eyes on instinct, and groan, “Tell me about it, holy shit, Osc. What an asshole. I don’t know if he was just stupid or legit didn’t know a single thing about me.”

“Mm,” Oscar hums in agreement, “and I like how no one asked you a single question after that. Way to go guys, that’s exactly how you show your support.”

You roll your eyes, still smiling a little at the contented feeling you’ve got in your chest, “I know, right. Trust, they all got on their keyboards afterwards to wax lyrical about how deserving I am of my seat. It’d be fucken’ nice if they acted like it during press conferences.”

“Yeaah,” he sighs, half-laugh, half-exhale, “It’s unfair.”

“Fucken' right,” you gripe, tipping your head back and letting a slip of fizzy beer cascade down your throat— the alcohol, though meagre, leaves you feeling loose, a little reckless, “It sucks Osc. God, I just want to be respected. If I had a dick and balls I’d be fucking killing it, dude. This is my rookie season, I’ve been scoring points every race. Except for the DNF, which was not my fault. But, fuck me, they don’t give a shit.”

You squeeze your eyes shut to stave off the angry tears that are sitting behind your eyelids, threatening. When you open them Oscar is staring at you, frowning, his brown eyes huge and sparkling and sympathetic. They’re like a black hole you want to fall into. Your heart squeezes. He’s so— ugh. Quickly, your mind supplies about a hundred answers to that question: sweet, cute, nice, adorable. Something stutters in your chest and you feel your cheeks starting to grow hot. That slow-burn smile of Oscar’s starts on his face, and you watch dimples form on his cheeks.

The moment is quickly ruined by a particularly nasally Italian accent that you vaguely recognise, “You know,” it says, clearly talking to you, “You should make sure to watch your tone. You never know who could be listening.”

Mood thoroughly dampened, you turn to face the interruption. It turns out to be one of the numerous men on the grid who won’t shut up about you, sharing unsolicited opinions left and right. He has his arms crossed against his chest and a smug expression on his face, as if he’s just caught you doing something terrible— instead of simply complaining about the subpar treatment you’re afforded.

He’s not worth your time whatsoever but God you’re angry. Maybe it’s just been too much shit on top of shit today but you cannot deal reasonably with this man right now— and you are not afforded the luxury of not acting reasonably toward someone like this, no matter how much of a dickhead they are. You open your mouth. Close it. Open it again. Close it and bite down on your bottom lip so nothing accidentally slips out. You’re trying to fish a semi-civil sentence out of a sea of fuck you fuck you fuck you on repeat and it’s not working.

“Are you threatening her?” Oscar asks, a dangerous lilt to his tone, and somewhere in the pulse of anger, you think this is the happiest you’ve ever been to hear his voice, “Because, I am pretty sure your team principal would not be pleased to hear that you’re going around threatening one of Mercedes’ drivers.”

He scoffs, trying to play it off, but you think you register a little bit of worry somewhere in there— Oscar can be threatening when he wants to be and McLaren are not exactly nobodies in this sport right now, “Please, I am not threatening her. I am just telling her that she needs to watch her mouth.”

“Right,” Oscar nods, mouth pinching, “Sure. Well, it would be our word against yours and I’m fairly sure your team principal would believe two drivers over you right now. Especially with that history, you’ve got, dude.”

A little thrill goes up your spine as his face goes white as a sheet. Oscar’s talking about the nice little list of comments he’s made that you’ve reported to your team and an FIA representative— which you’ve taken to doing every time anyone starts up a pattern of saying things about you or to you. They’re to cover your ass honestly, so you can’t be accused of making things up if push comes to shove. You’re sure they’ve made their way back to him and his boss; you’re glad they’ve made an impact (but perhaps not enough to stop him outright).

He sniffs, a nervous edge to his words, “I am not threatening her.”

“Okay. Apologise.”

“Excuse me?”

Oscar raises an eyebrow, “If you’re not threatening her, apologise.”

You bite the inside of your lip and grip the neck of your near-empty beer bottle tighter. Alright, Oscar can be scary. Noted. Very much noted.

“I—” He quickly thinks better of protesting and looks at you, lips pursed in a thin angry line, “I apologise.”

He looks at Oscar, Oscar looks at you. You shrug and nod. Good enough. You don’t need him to grovel, you think he’s been sufficiently humiliated already. Although, before he scampers off into the crowd at Oscar’s approval, you manage a dry, “You think I need to watch my tone now?”

He scowls, but says, “No,” anyway.

Then he stalks off into the throng of people.

You relax more the further that he gets away from the two of you. The tension dissipates into something warm and charged with a different kind of electricity entirely. You ignore the unease that tries to take root in your stomach and instead focus on Oscar at your side.

“That was—” you scrub a hand over your face, starting your sentence again, “Hm.”

Oscar sigh-laughs again, “Yeah, what an asshole.”

“Thank you,” you say meaning it wholeheartedly, “No one’s done something like that for me before.”

Oscar looks down at you, frowning, he shakes his head, “It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing,” you answer, feeling bold as you put a hand on his bicep in an attempt to express how grateful you feel for him, for what he’d done for you, “It’s really not, Osc.”

He’s quiet, staring at you with big brown sparkling eyes for a long long moment. A long moment in which you fantasise about reaching upward and pulling his face down to yours, feeling his lips against your own. They’d be soft, you think— his hair would be too. You don’t think about it and you resolutely ignore the tug low in your gut.

“You deserve it,” he says eventually, loud enough that you can hear it, but not anyone else, “You are killing it, by the way.”

You breathe a laugh, “Yeah, I’d better be.”

You squeeze gently at his bicep, feeling the sinewed muscle underneath his dress shirt. Then you let your hand drop, trailing absently down his arm as you do so. Your fingers brush his hand, and he catches yours before it's out of reach at your side. Purposefully, he threads your fingers with his, squeezing firmly and brushing his thumb tenderly over your knuckle. You feel a little lightheaded when he lets go.

You sigh, masking the out-of-breath quality of your voice, “I need another drink.”

“Yeah,” Oscar breathes, “Me too, I reckon.”

🏎️ title taken from this song :)

[ooffmlsorry]

OP Men Dating a "Girly Girl"

A/N: sorry this took so long and I haven't posted anything original in a minute my life is mess and I'm so very tired jfc...I know this isn't more than my usual group but I was just gonna stop at Luffy and then decided to add Ace and Sabo as a thank you because writing these and putting them on Tumblr has been really good for me, so thank you for always being here to indulge me 🥲 ❤️

Sanji, Zoro, Law, Luffy, Ace, Sabo

Sanji

Let's be honest, girly-girls drive Sanji craaaazzzzyy (not that all women don't, but he's definitely more partial to the feminine ones) Your make-up, pretty skirts and dresses, jewelry, and manicure, he can't help fawn over you constantly 😍Although you do it because you enjoy it, it's nice that your efforts are so appreciated!!

He spoils you soooo baaaddd!! He literally can't help himself when he sees something pretty or cute that reminds him of you, he has to get it for you. You're drowning in squishmallows at this point.

A river of blood shoots from him every time you show off a new outfit. You're going to kill him and he'll thank you for it.

Dressing up in nice outfits together, especially on date night, is a shared activity that you love to do together. Y'all are living your best happily ever after lives.

Ya'll definitely have scheduled self-care nights. You put on some slow music, open a bottle of wine, draw a bubble bath, all that.

He's utterly useless when it comes to helping you pick your outfits or makeup if you're stuck because he loves you in everything, it's too hard for him to pick. You're his perfect, beautiful Y/N-swaaaaan 😍💖💖✨

He does love to see you in pink or red though so he might default to those colors

Don't try to test your makeup on him lol, you're going to re-awaken the gender identity crisis...I mean Kamabakka trauma

Listen...I'm not saying Sanji has a mommy kink...I'm not even at Whole Cake Island so idk wtf is going on there. All I'm saying is if you give this man a bath, wrap him in a towel to dry him off, and rub him down with luxurious lotions and oils, you might awaken something...that's all...👀

ZORO

He has no clue wtf you're doing. If it weren't for the fact that there's no proof that witches exist in this world, he'd think you are one

He looks at your vanity full of serums, creams, scrubs, lotions, etc, not to mention the makeup and he's like "??????" Just completely baffled

But what do you expect? This man would use that five-in-one Irish Spring soap if he could.

Just because he doesn't understand it doesn't mean he doesn't appreciate and admire the fact that you have extensive knowledge in something he can't even comprehend

He knows you like nice shiny things, and again, while he doesn't get it, he does think it's really, really cute when you go starry-eyed over a necklace or an outfit in a store.

In the same vein, he knows how much you love cute things and animals. He has absolutely found a cute animal in the jungle, picked it up, and brought it to you just to show you because he knew you'd love it.

Sometimes in his own gruff way he'll agree with you that it's pretty cute. Thank you for helping this manly man admit things are cute and that's okay.

Other times, he's the one making sure you don't get distracted because it's so cute

Unfortunately and fortunately, you're pretty to him no matter what you do to yourself so it's all kind of a moot point to him.

You can try to ask him about which 'x' to wear, sometimes it's helpful because he'll throw out a really practical answer and then other times he's like "How 'bout you just go naked" 😏.

He'll wear a face mask with you like...twice a year. And he's going to bitch and moan about it but he does it because he loves you. The entire process is like trying to give a cat a bath "WHY IS IT SO COLD? THIS STAYS ON MY FACE FOR HOW LONG???"

Exfoliate this man at your own risk...I'm dead serious that water is going to be brown

LAW

I need you to know right now this man will let you paint his nails!!! I mean, not like gel or acrylics or anything, but he'll let you paint them any color as long as it's a dark shade of that color. You once designed Bepo on his middle fingers. He did in fact flip people off a lot more often when he had them.

Let's you wear a pastel boiler suit because you he loves you and wants to see you happy

Much like Zoro, he's got no clue what you're doing. He'll stand back and watch you while making the exact same face as the gif above.

He thinks he's being stealthy peaking around a corner to watch your morning or night routine, but you quickly catch on. Please please pleeaaassee ask him if he has any questions because he does. He's just really curious why you're doing what you're doing and what it does. It's basically skin medicine and he's really fascinated.

Knowing that you like shiny things makes his life admittedly a little easier, it's not that he doesn't think of what to gift you, he puts A LOT of thought into what he gives you, but knowing that earrings, necklaces, and bracelets always make you happy is great just in case of analysis paralysis or he forgets. Sorry.

Also you wearing the jewelry he gets you does something to him, especially a necklace he can pull on a little, mmhhm you're making this man struggle with impure thoughts.

You both love cute things, it's something y'all connect on. It's really good that you help him access that very neglected inner child of his and encourage him to coo and fawn over adorable animals with zero reservation.

He'll do skincare with you too when he's not super busy. He can admit it's kind of nice to sit in bed with a book, glass of wine, and a face mask and just bask for a minute

He acts like he hates when you rub serums across his face and use a derma roller on him but he loves it

Law doesn't really pay attention to your clothes, but when you really go all out he breaks out in a sweat and he can't keep his eyes off you.

LUFFY

I'm not saying he thinks it's stupid, it just...why have an hours long care routine when you could be going on adventure with him??? 😭😭😭

He will help you pick out your makeup but don't expect it to look good. You're gonna end up with neon orange eyeshadow and green lipstick. Like literally every "My Boyfriend Does My Makeup" youtube video.

Plays around with your stuff but that's because he has no idea what all these strange contraptions are. The moment you try to explain his eyes glaze over and next thing you know he's whisking you away to go do something more fun.

He likes the shiny bright stuff (highlighter), makeup probably is the only part he even remotely engages in because it's

Explain how contour works to this man and watch him lose his fucking mind, he thinks you're a shape shifter now (honestly this applies to all of them except Law and maybe Sanji)

He never notices what you wear, Nami is gonna have smack him on the back of the head to get him to realize you put on something fancy

Luffy points out everything, it just so happens that things he points out sometime happen to be cute animals

Hides in all the stuffed animals and squishmallows in your room to surprise attack hug you

*throws mud at you* "Is this the kind of mud you like, Y/N??" He really means well though.

You know those hair masks with all natural ingredients like honey and banana? Yeah, he's gonna start sucking on your hair like spaghetti...I'm so sorry.

He'll bathe with you but that's because he wants to be close to you, it's definitely not about being pampered or relaxing.

Try to put a face mask on him or something else and it'll just become a game of tag around the Sunny. You can't catch him and he's having a great time outrunning and outwitting you.

He knows this is all important to you so even though he doesn't get it he'd never make fun of you for it and the moment someone calls you "extra," he's kicking their ass.

ACE

Maybe all the glam is a little silly to him but that just makes you extra cute!

He will also absolutely let you paint his nails. Hell, he'll let you do a full beat on him just for fun and he'll wear it for the whole day because he's so unserious lol

...As long as he gets to do your makeup after...Much like Luffy you're gonna be covered in neon colors that don't even remotely match, but you guys have a great time lol

Admittedly likes to be pampered by you when he gets back from a long mission.

Please take a bubble bath with this man, it's not like the water is ever going to get cold!

I'm pretty sure you'd legitimately lead to Ace taking better care of himself. Got this man out here talking about his cuticles and shit lol

Honestly, it's really good for him because self care leads to self love and Ace needs a lot of help with that.

He tells Pops about all the stuff you do 1.) because he loves you and 2.) he hopes some of it will help Whitebeard heal a little, god bless him 😢

All of your hardwork doesn't go unnoticed, he legitimately gets kind of misty eyed when you really dress up because he's so so so lucky. He swears he doesn't deserve you.

He always brings back some kind of gift even whether it's a cute plushie or something exotic to wear from all of his long travels

I need to stress how much this means to him, everyone of these things is like a little proposal because he already knows you're it. Every little gift is leading up to a ring from this man.

He's also just genuinely impressed by the skill it takes to do your makeup so well, especially after he tries doing it on you

Much like his little brother unfortunately, he does play with all the little contraptions in your vanity, especially in the beginning because have you seen an eyelash curler? He's so confused lol

SABO

Sabo and Ace truly are his brothers because he really don't get all the effort lol

Admittedly, a lot of that is because he thinks you're so hot already what's the point???

Once he gets this is just how you are he's less confused, he's probably the most normal out everyone. He lets you do your thing, although he's really curious how you managed to always look amazing while being in the fucking revolutionary army!!?? Where are you getting the time???

If someone were to intrude on y'all on a free afternoon you're both in fluffy robes with face masks on and Sabo loves to pretend to act like a bitch when he's in selfcare mode with you lol

"Are you seriously bothering us right now, ugh! I can't even right now!!" And then you both break out in laughter

He really thinks you should teach others how to contour and do makeup because it has great applications for disguises and infiltration.

And brags about your skills to everyone

Wonders how many of your makeup supplies could actively be used as a weapon *eye roll* jfc Sabo

There's a part of you that secretly worries all your boujieness will remind him of his blood relatives, but he assures you that it doesn't because you have a good heart and he never doubts that

Besides, being a little extra with him helps him associate those things he used to associate with his blood relatives with you instead so it's even better

He spoils you so bad, but with a Sabo-flair, ie. stealing from shitty people and bringing it back to you because you're oh so more deserving of nice things let's be honest

He gets jealous of the cute animals that you squeal over hehehe, please hug him when he starts pouting

He'll always wear a little pink just for you ❤️

[bread--quest]

It's 2012 somewhere. Welcome.... to Night Vale Tumblr.

👁️ nvcr-official

Hi guys! I'm Intern Sarah! Excited to be joining you all!

👁️ nvcr-official

To the friends and family of Intern Sarah, she was a good intern and social media manager, and we are sorry to see her go. We will work to find a new intern as soon as possible.

83 notes

🦉 dark-owl-records

CALL OUT POST FOR CECIL PALMER

hes gotten away with shit for too long and im sick of it. tl;dr horrific intern mistreatment with no compensation, mountain denier, homophobic

keep reading

❌ number-one-moonhater Follow

Hey uh. Aren't you a company account? Why are you posting this

🦉 dark-owl-records

L + ratio + god forbid women do anything + your music taste is trash

🙈 seesomethingsaynothing Follow

Isn't Cecil literally gay?

🦉 dark-owl-records

he's homophobic

🪼 jeebyfish Follow

he has a husband...

🦉 dark-owl-records

yeah and he won't fucking shut up about it

2,500 notes

🤫 cecils-private-blog

Carlos hasn't liked any of my woodcarving posts in THREE DAYS!! I'm so scared what if he's going to break up with me :((

👁️ nvcr-official

Cecil he's your husband he's not breaking up with you. also this isn't a private blog you just put private in the url

🤫 cecils-private-blog

HOW DID YOU SEE THIS

4 notes

🏜️ sandeater Follow

tamika flynn spotted in ralph's dairy aisle "slaying" the milk

🦂 scorpiansscuttle Follow

op i know this is a joke but one time i was in the ralphs dairy aisle and there was some butter up on a really high shelf and someone said "don't worry, i'll get it" and i turned around and it was fucking tamika flynn

☁️ average-weather-enjoyer Follow

fake story :/

📚 isurvivedthesummerreadingprogram

No it's true I was there

🚂 traintonowhere Follow

TAMIKA FLYNN??

🏜️ sandeater Follow

what the fuck is happening on my post

8,345 notes

👁️ nvcr-official

can you guys please stop sending cecil weird shit... i don't want to have to explain to my boss what a dilf is

27 notes

🐚 mariella-shella

Hey guys!! Sorry for the lack of posts recently! I entered a hole in the wall and when I got out I realized I didn't know how long I'd been in there, or where I was, or who I am, and I'm not sure that I'm still the person who entered that hole however long ago. Anyway, the normal posting schedule will resume as soon as I remember what my normal posting schedule was, and if I'm still the person who had that posting schedule!

🌪️ sandstorm-gf Follow

omg mariella!!! missed u so much girl glad ur back!

🐚 mariella-shella

i miss me too

42 notes

😎 Anonymous asked: Response to the homophobic allegations?

🎙️ cecilpalmer

Huh??

🎙️ cecilpalmer

@nvcr-official What does this mean? Is it new slang?

👁️ nvcr-official

uhhhh dont worry about it buddy

50 notes

🧤 missy-mittens Follow

hey guys im in quarantine for eating wheat and wheat byproducts uh...send asks?? i might be in here for a while lmaooo

🧤 missy-mittens Follow

oh lights in the sky its been 5 years since i made this post

☁️ glowcloudapologist Follow

how's it going op

🧤 missy-mittens Follow

i miss my family

506 notes

🐚 mariella-shella Follow

hey if anyone remembers anything about the person running this blog can you tell me? trying to recover the fragments of my identity from the void of memory lol

🥔 potato-enthusiast Follow

you were really hot

🐚 mariella-shella Follow

FUCK YEAHHHHHH

89 notes

🦉 a-weird-bird Follow

just a reminder that new residents of east night vale are fully welcome to interact with this blog!!!! you will not be harassed and any hate will be blocked. this blog is safe even if this town isn't sometimes <3

🌻 sunflowergirl Follow

This is so sweet, thank you so much! Just so you know, even though it's officially called East Night Vale now, a lot of people still call it Desert Bluffs! Just thought you might want to know :)

🦉 a-weird-bird Follow

i'm not calling it that sorry

🌻 sunflowergirl Follow

What??? Why??

🦉 a-weird-bird Follow

just kind of sucks. as a name

🌻 sunflowergirl Follow

?????????

170 notes

🐄

⬜️ kentuckymeatshower_deactivated11051983

what does this mean....

🌌 cece-xeze Follow

another great post from huntokar herself

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you don't like pine cliff? 👻 oo ooo?

👁️ nvcr-official

NIGHT VALE SWEEEEEP

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😁 the-happy-smiler Follow

Hi everyone!! Since Twitter went down, I figured I'd try my hand at this Tumblr thing! I'm so excited to meet all of you!! Hope you're ready for some pictures of CENTIPEDES!! Feel free to AMA about the Smiling God!

👁️ nvcr-official

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21,983 notes

[tropicalfreckles]

As much as I love the 2k3 TMNT since I grew up on that, what the fuck is with modern TMNT and just going the exaggeration of the 87 turtles for comedy's sake. It's happened twice (I never watched 2k12 but I DID watch the crossover episodes cause I love crossovers of things I like. I think 2k12 still did a less shitty job than turtles forever did) and I think it's kind of lame that it happened twice.

If any future TMNT shows have a crossover with the 87 turtles and the others, I just want them to have fun with it and not bring down another version for the sake of comedy. We never got to see the ROTTMNT boys interact with other versions of themselves, but I would've loved to see if they could've tackle that in a better way.

That being said, if they did a meta joke about how the censorship got so silly in the 87 show, I would've eaten that shit up. That's better than just acting like the 87 turtles are incompetent. It was a show that was primarily aimed towards selling toys most of the time like all 80s shows were, but that doesn't mean that it wasn't fun for what it was. I only saw a good handful of the 87 show but I thought it was cute.

Love you 2012 but what the hell were you talking about here-

[penkura]

OP Men as Dads Part 2

Note: I chose to do another five OP men for this one!! My brain won't shut off about these men being dads, I'm losing it omg. I hope these are good, I kind of struggled a little but just wrote whatever came to mind. Maybe I can do a part three at some point with more of them! I have a small idea for Mihawk and Franky, but that's it so far. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy! Sticking baby Ace for the image because I got nothing else lol.

Part One Here!

Kid is a boy dad, I’m sorry he just is. I can’t see him with a daughter really, unless she’s the youngest and was a surprise. But anyway! He’d have three boys that were all three years apart, and all are exactly like him. You really do love your sons and husband, but how you wish at least one of your boys was calm. The four of them are always roughhousing to the point you’ve had to set rules to keep from Kid accidentally hurting them, or your children from breaking things when he isn’t involved. When you have a set of twins a few years after your third son, another two boys, you’re done and just accepting your fate as a boy mom. You and Kid love all your boys though, neither of you would change anything, especially when your youngest ends up being a momma’s boy who’s finally calm and would rather spend his time with you than anyone else. Kid isn’t jealous, he swears.

~~

Usopp I can see with two girls! A few years between them, and they’re both the light of his life aside from you of course! Every story he tells them before bed makes them both so excited to grow up and become Pirates themselves, brave women of the sea! The oldest will want to help Usopp and Franky with inventions and fixing up the ship, while the youngest wants to be a sniper like her dad. You have no complaints about either one of those, more than grateful they both want to take after Usopp and following in his footsteps. Your girls absolutely love their dad, you get a little jealous sometimes, but getting to watch the three of them bond is your favorite thing in the world. It might make him a little emotional, especially after not having Yasopp around as he grew up.

~~

Shanks, I’m sure a lot are wondering about, would be such a great dad, we’ve seen him with Luffy and Uta, there’s no way he’d let down his biological kids imo. I see him with a son first, one with his hair that’s even more wild, and then twin girls! They’d all be about four years apart in age, but they’d run him ragged day in and day out. He'd teach your son how to wield a sword and help him develop his Haki, while your daughters will learn more hand to hand combat, though your youngest will join the sword lessons when she’s ready. When they’re little, he lets your girls put pins and braids in his hair, while telling all three of them stories about his time on the sea. The rest of the crew adores your children, Shanks knew they’d all be great uncles to your little ones.

~~

SHACHI WOULD SUCH A GOOD DAD OMG. You think I’m pushing Penguin propaganda, I’m here for Shachi now too. He’ll have two boys within two years of each other, yes the second is a surprise but so beyond welcomed, and then several years later a little girl that has all three of them wrapped around her finger! Your daughter would have his red hair, she’d just be the prettiest little thing, with chubby cheeks and her hair pulled back into two little ponytails. Your sons would have a mix between your hair and Shachi’s, both taking more after their dad in personality than anything. Of course, Shachi will teach all three of them to defend themselves, but especially your daughter since she’s the baby and he just wants her to be safe, even with her big brothers as her guardians.

~~

Rosinante, Corazon, however we wish to call him, he would be the best dad out of this group, I’m sure of it. Apart from taking in Law, he’d have two of his own children, a girl first and then a boy a couple years later. Law would act as a big brother to the two, it’d be the cutest thing ever. While your daughter would be outgoing and ready to take on the world, your son would much shier and would rather hide himself behind you or Corazon, normally his dad though. Corazon would NOT let Doflamingo around them; he’d probably keep the three of you a secret, maybe even his adoption of Law too, just to keep you all safe. He’s lost family before, he doesn’t want it to happen again, even if that means picking up and moving you all where his brother can’t find you. Apart from that, Corazon would make sure all of you had everything you needed, and your son would hold onto him through everything.  Your daughter would attach more to Law, but that’s perfectly fine, he’s accepted her as his new little sister and wants to protect her, he wants to protect your son too where he can. Your daughter would also want to keep her baby brother safe, not one of you would let a thing happen to a hair on his head. Corazon finally has a family again, a family of his own, he’s not letting anything happen to any of you anytime soon.

[guttednights]

your bar.

You've worked in the same bar for the past 3 years. It's fairly common for military men to come in and get drinks together. It's always soap, gaz, price, and the one in a mask.

One night you finally speak to the guy in the skull mask. "your name is?" as he looks at you, his cold eyes lighten.

"ghost," he said gruffly when soap elbowed him, he shot soap a glare and sighed making eye contact with you. "Simon. simon Riley." he gruffs.

you can't help but smile. "well then Simon Riley. want your usual?"

"Please," he says coldly

you and your friend spent the rest of the night talking about simon. "god i dont know what it is about him but." "jeez.."

"oh ew! shut up" your friend replies walking to the other side of the bar

you giggle "ah cmon, its not as nasty as you and your thing for that old one.

she giggles. "price is hot because hes a gentle man. simon just looks like he could hurt anyone."

"thats what i like" "feels like hed go to jail for me"

She rolls her eyes "okay mrs delusional."

the next few days some tension between you and simon grew. he cant keep his eyes off you. your literal eyecandy to him. and you notice.

"sarah he keeps staring" you say entering the back to "refill something"

she squeals. "girl hes so into you!"

you roll your eyes, "oh whatever."

Later that night soap walks up to the bar,

"hey y/n, you know my big friend Simon? ya he wants ye number"

your heart practically stops beating. "uh.. yeah sure here" You quickly write it on a napkin and hand it to him. you watch as soap runs away like a schoolgirl giggling to Simon as he hands it to him.

the whole rest of the night you were shocked. The big huffy man you think is hot wanted your number?

around 2 am you jolt awake as your phone buzzes. you grab your phone, its him.

"hey gorgeous its simon, or "big masked man"

"Hi simon" god you cant believe this is happening is this real?

"you should be asleep. what you doing up?"

ur heart flutters, (GOING FERAL LIKE YES PLS BOSS ME AROUND) "couldnt sleep"

"any reason why?"

(yes Simon ur the reason why) "nope no praticular reason why, just one of those nights."

"alright. want to get coffee tomorrow?"

"coffee?!" you think to yourself "Omg it's happening.."

"id love to get coffee"

"great. ill see you at happy cafs tomorrow at 9 am."

"see you there"

your freaking out literally, the man of your literal dreams is asking to go out on a coffee date?! Is it a date..?

"is this considered a date?" you text him a few minutes later

"yes, sweetheart. it's considered a date lol"

you throw your phone across the room screaming and kicking your feet. you can't sleep the rest of the night. too busy thinking about what to wear. finally at 6 am you give up and hit the shower, then walk to your closet. "god do I wear a dress? jeans hoodie?" finally you decide on a long-sleeved black dress, perfect for winter. you straighten your hair, do your makeup, and hype yourself up.

8:55 and you're a minute away from the cafe when u see him pull up. your heart drops. you're so excited yet so nervous, u practically black out until you bump into him.

"op, watch out there" he chuckles, "looking at your feet while you walk sweetheart or?"

you chuckle, "Sorry lost in my thoughts." sweetheart?! You can't help but blush as he puts his hand on the lower part of your back and directs you inside. you both sit down at a booth and a waitress comes over. you both order and wait.

you can't help but stare at him, even tho you haven't seen his face his eyes just capture you.

"I'm not gonna lie, sweetheart,. I can't keep my eyes off you at the bar,"

"might as well claim ye before you are no longer available" he smirks as you blush and look away

you spend the next 3 hours just talking getting to know him. And before you know it, (in a few weeks of course) you are dating, officially his. the man of your dreams is officially yours.

side notes: i dont know if i like this tbh. it feels really long and i almost lost what else to say. if u want a part 2 (MAYBE SMUTTY VERS. i can do it lmk!!!)

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

Do think I’m your babygirl? I think the fuck not.

Pairing/au: Joel Miller x afab!reader, no outbreak

Words count: 4095

Rating: +18, NSFW, minors please don’t interact

Warnings/Tags: pov second person, smut with very little plot, angst, casual sex, no use of y/n, reader is described having breasts and vagina and wearing a dress and heels, no other description of her is given, reader’s thoughts in italics, mention of infidelity, swearing, pet names (babygirl, good boy, baby, princess), reader is bad at feelings (she has her reasons though), soft!Joel, brief mention of Sarah, a lot of kissing, fingering (f receiving), oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v (reader is on the pill but still, do better irl, please!), reverse cowgirl, balls grabbing, a little of bit of scolding during sex 😈, plot twist, neck kissing, nipples play, teasing… I think it’s all? If I realize I forgot something I'll add it right away.

A/N: First of all, if you happened to read something similar but badly written on AO3 don't worry, it's still me, no one stole anything from me and I didn't steal anything from anyone lol

I've been wanting to rewrite this for a long time and I think I'm pretty happy with how it came out this time. I really hope you like it too. As always, English is not my first language, I don't have beta and I finished writing it last night at 3am (ops, I did it again!), so please forgive me if you find any mistakes.

To anyone reading this, thank you for your time! I added a brief A/N at the end, see you there!

“Should we get out of here?” he whispers in your ear and you nod “where?”

“My house”

You give him a quick kiss on the lips agreeing “okay”.

You just met him but he’s the most handsome man to ever approach you in a bar so you don’t care.

You’ve already been the good girl, the one to introduce to someone’s parents, the one who’s always kind and modest, who never says a word too much and does everything in her power to make her man happy.

Turns out it didn’t do you any good.

You were engaged, a year ago.

You and Mark had the whole plan.

The wedding, a house with a white picket fence, a nice yard, a dog, a big family.

It was all decided, until you found out he was cheating on you with one of his coworkers.

All those “babygirl, I’m going to be late”, “babygirl, don’t wait for me for dinner, that asshole of my boss gave me a ton more paperwork to deal with”, “babygirl, tell John I’m sorry I couldn’t come to his party today but I still have a million things to do here at the office”, “I miss you, I wish I didn’t have to work so much” texts…all bullshit.

One day you came home early from a work trip and found him on the couch of the house you had rented and where you had lived together for two years with his dick stuck in his colleague’s pussy.

What a piece of shit.

You spent four years of your life with him and yet it felt like you had never really known him. You wondered how he had managed to lie so well, for so long, without even flinching.

You cried, you screamed as he made up some lame excuse to justify himself, you wondered how you had wasted all those years with someone like that. How come you hadn't noticed before how fake and manipulative he was? How come you hadn't noticed that every time you argued he tried to make you feel guilty even though he was the one who was completely in the wrong?

Oh yeah, you were in love. Blind, dazed, completely drunk with love.

Love that chews you up and spits you out.

What a huge scam.

Never again, you thought.

Mark could have gone to hell with his colleague, you were done.

You would no longer let feelings get the better of you.

Sure, men were still nice. When they were quiet and fucked you good and then went back home, no strings attached.

He says his name is Joel.

You put a finger over his mouth to silence him when he tries to add his last name. “I don’t need it,” you tell him.

“Whatever you say, beautiful,” he replies.

His voice is definitely a plus. Deep, husky, charming. It goes straight to your cunt.

Even his beard brushing your cheek as he speaks in your ear to make himself heard over the chaos of the bar isn’t bad at all.

A small talk later you decide he is the perfect one night stand.

He’s wearing a pair of dark jeans and a gray T-shirt with a plaid shirt over it.

His hand is wrapped around your waist in a delicious way, just above your hip. Big, expert hand. His brown eyes are staring at you, intense and piercing. Chocolate eyes, and you've always liked chocolate.

His plushy lips curve into a smirk when you say “let’s go cowboy, it’s time to show me what you got”

He chuckles, reaching down and squeezing your butt.

“After you, princess”

You roll your eyes at the pet name but he’s too gorgeous to back down.

He walks you to his pick up truck, in the parking lot.

He drives to a nice neighborhood, full of small houses with well-kept yards and safe streets where you imagine kids riding bikes and playing softball. The contrast between him and what’s around you makes you laugh. Joel doesn’t seem like a friendly neighbor, a candidate for trick-or-treating on Halloween, or the life of the block parties. He seems distant, a man of few words, a grouch. Which is perfect as far as you are concerned. You had stopped caring about men’s chatter.

When you were talking at the bar you noticed that his hands are calloused, rough, you were about to ask him what job he did but you decided you weren't interested.

Who cares, this guy will be out of my life after tonight.

You look at his profile in the truck, his expression when you put your hand on his thigh while he’s driving, his lips that twitch slightly, his Adam’s apple that jump in his throat, his hand that grips the steering wheel a little tighter. Really, truly, delicious.

You like him. His thick raven hair with just a few streaks of gray, his high forehead, his aquiline nose, his strong jaw. Your best friend sent you a tiktok a while ago about her favorite actor with a little song that said Girl dinner playing in the background. Watching Joel in the car you think of that. Except he isn’t just dinner but a six-course meal at a fancy restaurant.

By now your opinion of men is that they are all assholes and cheaters and the guys you met after Mark only supported that theory.

When you met someone cute your new philosophy was legs open, heart closed.

You wouldn't have opened your heart for Joel, but your legs yes, very willingly.

He parks in front of a cute little house, with a rose bush climbing up a trellis to one side and an impeccable lawn.

A small porch with a rocking chair and pots of geraniums complete the picture. “Jesus,” you think “This guy and his house have nothing to do with each other”

Joel has a worn-out, 90s rock star look in a flannel shirt and combat boots, a guy like him could have lived in a shitty loft with a mattress on the floor and wooden crates for nightstands.

“Here we are, princess” he says. He got out of the pick up and come to open the door for you.

“Quaint neighborhood,” you observe.

“See, I’m unmarried but I have a daughter” You stop him right away. “Nah, too much information.”

He has a daughter. You didn’t expect that either. And you don’t want to know, you don’t want to know a damn thing about him other than how good he fucks.

“Okay” he mutters, shrugging. He seems a little confused by all your restrictions but it is essential for you to keep your distance.

Knowing this already bothers you, you should have taken him to some motel instead of his house. He has a daughter, so he's a responsible family man? A guy who never does things like pick up a stranger in a bar? What if he hasn't gotten laid since Bush was president?

You don’t have time to waste on foreplay and cuddles, he’s not the “let’s talk first” type, is he? He doesn't seem like it but at this point you're not sure of anything anymore.

You enter his house and look around. It's a nice place, comfortable, simply furnished, there's too much brown around for your taste but it's okay.

You don't have a chance to process the photos hanging on the wall and scattered around on the tables and bookshelves before he pins you against the wall and kisses you.

It's a hungry, sloppy, passionate kiss, his lips moving over yours as if he wanted to devour you in one bite.

“Great job” you think, at least you were right about something, he is a man who doesn't waste time on ceremony.

His tongue slides warm into your mouth and it tastes like whiskey, his hands run over your body, caressing you.

First the neck, tightening slightly against your throat, then on your shoulders where he slides the straps of your dress. Then on your chest, to pull down the fabric just enough to uncover your bra. He cups one of your breast with his hand, squeezing it. He pulls down the bra and uncovers your already hard nipples. He leaves a trail of kisses and small bites on your jaw and all the way down the column of your neck, until he reaches your chest taking one of your buds into his mouth, you feel the warmth of his tongue and lips, licking greedily at it and then sucking it slowly, his beard tickling on your skin.

Fuck, this guy knows what he's doing.


You mentally apologize to him for doubting it, as you throw away your heels, kicking them to the floor.

You moan loudly as his heavy hand lifts the hem of your dress and covers your entire pussy. He presses hard on your clit and your body tenses like a violin string, you arch your back seeking more friction. He places his other hand on your hip, caging you between him and the wall. He continues to kiss you, while he dip in your slit through the now completely soggy fabric.

He grunts in your ear “so fucking great mmm pussy is dripping on my floor, isn’t she?” 
You don't even have the energy to cringe about him using pronouns for your cunt as he pulls your panties aside and dip two fingers into your slit, moving up towards your clit, rubbing it.

His eyes are settled in yours, you feel hypnotized by his gaze, so overwhelming and beautiful. It pierces you to the wall. 
His fingers stroke your clit in small circles, slowly and then faster, applying pressure every now and then. His smile widens as he watches you needily and hotly arch into his palm.

“Yeah, you like that, huh?”
You desperately clench around his thick fingers when he slides his index and middle into your hole. When he begins to slowly sink inside you you feel like you can’t hold his gaze anymore, it’s almost like he’s digging into your soul, your head crush into the crook of his neck and your arm tightens around his shoulders. 
Your brain is completely clouded with pleasure and its scent, wood and leather with a fresh clean undertone. He smells so good. It’s intoxicating.

Your dress is bunched up around your waist, just enough to allow his hands to feast on you.
His fingers keeps getting in and out of you reaching your most sensitive spot while his other hand goes back on your tit, playing with one of your nipples, twisting and gently pulling it between his fingers. 
You can no longer hold back your whines, they mix with his hoarse grunts, filling the air in the room.
“Fuck, it feels so good” you wail and he grumbles “yeah…such a nice cunt, fuck, so tight” 
He pumps even harder into you, scissoring a bit, hitting your g-spot again and again, his thumb on your clit and you feel your peak building up from your tummy and raising hot into your chest, you’re gasping for air as he bites in the tender skin of your neck and lowers his mouth back on your nipple. 
“mmm I would never stop sucking your tits, God, they are so - fuck” His voice dies in his throat as you clench hard around his fingers whining “don’t stop please don’t stop oh fuck sogoodsogoodsogoodsogood”, you sound almost like you’re on the verge of crying. 
He gently urges you “let go, gorgeous, give it to me, drench my fucking fingers” 
And you come, as much as you hate being told what to do he’s having the best of you. It’s basically the only moment in which you give yourself the chance to get lost, when your climax starts shuttering all over your body, wave after wave, washing away your control over yourself. 
He holds you down as your body shakes uncontrollably.

His mouth leaves small kisses on your sweaty skin, cradling you through your orgasm along with his hands that gently cup your ass, squeezing it. You moan against his neck, clinging to his flannel shirt.

His fingers slide out of you and he brings them to your mouth, he runs them over your lower lip, wetting it with your pleasure and then gliding them over your tongue to his knuckles, you lick them greedily under his satisfied gaze.

You stay hugged against the wall for a while, not saying anything, just breathing on each other's skin.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly when he feels your breathing return to normal. “I’ve never felt better.” You answer, finally looking into his eyes again and running a hand through his hair, ruffling it.

He's cute, too cute, his eyes look at you sweetly and he caresses your cheek, brushing his thumb on your skin.

This is no good, this is no good at all, you think.

You have to do something before you make the terrible mistake of melting like ice cream in the sun for this man. You can't afford that. So you take matters into your own hands.

You push him against the wall in turn and his wide eyes tell you he wasn't expecting it.

You give him a smile as you lower your hand to his pants, feeling him hard under your touch. He’s big. Much bigger than you expected even though you just got a preview of him pressing against your thigh as he finger-fucked you.

Your hands quickly fumble with his jeans, unbuttoning them. You make room in his underwear to reach his cock. Joel grumbles “oh fuck, yes”

“Take off your clothes” you order. Joel undresses in a second, throwing his clothes and boots on the floor. You lick your lips at the sight of his bulging boxers. You move back against him, massaging him from above the fabric, feeling a large stain spreading across the front. He’s dripping profusely, which makes you even more hungry and eager to try him.

You smile at him as you lower yourself to your knees, bringing his boxers down with you.

His cock springs free right before your eyes, hard, uncut, and impossibly perfect. Your hand slides over the line of hair leading to his crotch, slightly beaded with sweat, and wraps around his base. He doesn’t stop staring at you, enraptured.

Your hand moves up and down his length, lingering at the tip, collecting his precum and spreading it out.

You feel your saliva building up in your mouth and as much as it annoys you to admit it your clit twitch, you can’t wait to taste it. Your mind is fighting against this guy, but your body knows exactly what it wants and doesn’t care if it gets carried away.

You place your tongue on the tip, swirling it around and then sliding it flat down his shaft, over his throbbing, engorged vein, down to where your hand encircles him.

You hear him grunt and your mouth twists involuntarily into a smirk.

His musky flavor coats your tongue as you continue to work his length, you look up and there he is, hair tousled, eyebrows furrowed, mouth agape, eyes like ebony that sparkle with lust, beautiful as a painting. He almost hurts your eyes. You squeeze them shut, concentrating only on the heat in your mouth and your movements on his red and swollen tip.

You slurp greedily increasing the pace as you feel him throbbing more and more intensely.

You are enjoying the silence filled only by the sound of your obscene lapping and his hoarse moans when he decides to speak.

“Fuck, babygirl, you’re incredible”

Your blood runs cold, it’s like an unconditioned reflex you can’t escape. An uncontrolled anger rises from the pit of your stomach, you stop and let it out through your mouth. His face becomes confused, you take a deep breath to try to calm the fire that burns inside you and ask him sharply: “what did you call me?”

Mark's face materialized before your eyes, vivid as it hadn't been in a long time. It’s terrible.

He hesitates for a moment before saying “babygirl” in a garbled whisper.

“Don’t ever do that again” you tell him in a firm voice before moving closer to his cock and he mutters “no one has ever complained”

You stop again “It gives me the ick. So if you want me to continue I suggest you stop nagging like a child. Otherwise I can always walk out that door and let you finish with your hand”

“It’s just a pet name” he says, rolling his eyes, like it were no big deal, as if it didn't mean you were going back to where you started, to when you were too blind to realize how much of a liar your fiancé was, to when your heart was in pieces.

He can’t know, that’s true, so you haven’t completely blurted out. But that annoyance still rises in your throat. And you can’t cry, you really can’t. So sarcasm creeps in. “You think I’m a little girl? A princess who needs saving? Fucking Snow White?”

His cock is still standing between you two, waiting for attention. You might laugh at the situation, maybe make a joke about how well he holds his erection, but you're not really in the mood.

His Adam's apple moves in his throat, he gulps air before answering: “no, but…I mean, it’s just a word”

You shrug, looking at him with reproach and resignation at the same time, and try to answer with all the nonchalance you can muster. “Okay. It will mean that pornhub will take care of you, I don’t give a damn” If he can’t compromise then he’s not worth your time, just like every other man.

You start to get up and he stops you, a slight panic in his eyes “oh no, come on, don’t be like that. Ok, ok, I won’t say it again”

You lower yourself again and are about to start over in silence when it occurs to you to teasing him a little, just a little and only because he ruined the moment for you. He did it unintentionally but still. You don't mind the rough play and you think this big guy in front of you can take it.
“Let's try” you think “I can always stop”

It’s not like you’re going to hurt him badly, just teasing.

So you look him in the eyes with all the candor you can, taking one of his balls in your hand. You squeeze it and say “Are you going to be a good boy? Are you going to shut the fuck up for me?” 
“Yes” he murmurs. 
“I’m not your fucking babygirl, we clear?” 
“Yes” 
“Say it.”
“You’re not my babygirl” he whispers.
You squeeze hard on his ball, seeing his lower lip twitching with pleasure, his eyes dark with lust.
Yeah, he likes that, it’s clearly painted all over his face.
“Louder”
“You’re not my babygirl” his voice breaking in the attempt as you put your mouth on his ball sucking hard on it.
You let go with a satisfied smile “Perfect”
You take his shaft back into your mouth, squeezing the other ball gently with your hand and he leans against the wall, eyes shut and whimpering.
It’s so good to hear him like that, your clit is throbbing between your leg and your arousal is dripping all over your inner thighs.
You stop when you feel him on the edge, another few licks on his red and angry tip would be enough to send him over but you’re craving him into your cunt. And also, you like seeing him all pent up and needy for you.

He’s basically babbling at this point, begging you and swearing, eyes desperate for a release, all his body tense and covered in a light layer of sweat.

He’s totally gorgeous and you’re not done yet.

“Don’t cry baby, I will give you what you want” you coo, your lips curved into a smirk.

You get up and take his hand, guiding him on the couch in his living room.

It’s a nice brown leather couch, there is a little hollow in one of the pillows and you imagine that is where he usually sits to watch tv. This is also unnecessary information that makes him much more human and cute than you would like.

You can see him on Sundays, sprawled out there, his feet up on the coffee table placed in front, a beer in his hand, watching football.

No, that’s too much.

You sit him down in the center, caressing his cheek. You pinch one of his nipples and he lets out a groan. You take off the dress that at this point is practically dangling uselessly from your waist, your now soaked panties and your bra which he took care of pulling down earlier making it useless as well.

You’re finally completely naked before his eyes.

You throw everything aside on the floor, feeling incredibly vulnerable but trying not to show it.

Joel is silent but you can see his eyes feasting on your body, lusting over every curve before settling on your pussy that glistens with your juices.

You move closer and lean him against the back of the couch and sit on him, holding his cock with one hand and gently pushing it into your hole. You are incredibly wet but you proceed with caution anyway, he is too big to take in one thrust.

He pants beneath you, lacing his hands on your hips and guiding you gently. You can't see his eyes anymore, which is good for you, he's already made you feel exposed enough. It’s better this way, you can take what you want from his body without letting him affect you too much.

When you are fully seated on him you start to move, bouncing on his thighs, swinging your hips, he tries to keep up with your pace, thrusting into you as deep as he can, sinking into your wetness.

One of his hands moves to one of your breasts, cupping it and squeezing it, brushing your nipple with his palm and then taking it between his fingers.

You lean forward slightly to let him reach that soft spot inside you that always makes you see stars. Your ears are filled with his moans, the sound you like to hear when a man fucks you.

Nothing more than his natural, delirious, desire-filled sounds.

You throw your head on his shoulder and he kisses you, you cry into his mouth as you feel his hand move from your breast to your clit and begin to rub it furiously.

His tongue is warm and delicious in your mouth, a small trickle of saliva runs down your chin as you try to chase it and dance with it.

He's at his peak now, you feel him pulsing hard inside you, his moans muffled on your lips.

“Come inside, I’m on the pill” you only manage to whisper.

His pubic hair tickles your ass as he slams into you repeatedly, until you feel long, hot streaks of his cum painting your walls.

You continue to rock on his hips, lacing one hand around his neck, kissing him, until everything gets confusing, blurry, overwhelming in a way you can't explain. You reach him in a state of bliss, sweaty and exhausted but never as satisfied as you are now.

You pull his cock out of you and sit on the couch, he is on your neck in an instant, leaving a trail of small hungry kisses as you both try to catch your breath. You close your eyes so as not to see his, probably softened and vulnerable, nothing more wrong than letting yourself be taken by the tenderness after sex.

After a while he gets up and disappears into the kitchen without saying anything. He returns with a glass of water and hands it to you. “Thank you,” you say, before quickly swallowing it to ease the dryness in your throat. You set it on the coffee table and stand up before he tries to say something stupid.

You gather your clothes, getting dressed as he watches you from the couch, you feel his eyes on you the whole time.

You lean in to give him a kiss and his hand on your hip feels like a silent request to stay.

You don't say anything, there's no need to say anything.

You walk out the door without looking back.

You're not a babygirl.

A/N: I personally don't mind being called "babygirl" and Joel could call me anything, really. LOL I just wanted to try something different, hope you all liked it. Thanks again for reading, comments and reblogs are very much appreciated ❤️

[kumezyzo]

thinking about how lowkey toxic a relationship with corpse would be....

warning, this is very angsty. to the point where i lowkey shed a tear writing this. and that doesnt usually happen lol.

gn!reader (as far as im aware) and sorry for the typos if there are any... 😁

anyway, enjoy! or dont :) m.list

it would prolly just start with you two hanging out. going over to his apartment, maybe hooking up once in a blue moon. but you two mainly cuddling and spending the days together in the dark rooms of his apartment.

he would try to hide from you how much pain he was in when you were around. but it wasnt hard to miss how he would wince at tiny movements and never be able to rest with you in his arms.

and when it got really bad, he hated how you helped him get around with no questions. how you so simply wanted to help him out because you cared. how you would even help him shower, bring in his groceries, cook for him, feed him if you had to.

he hated it because you cared more than anyone had before and you werent even dating. he wished you would just give up on him because it was too much. he wished you would just finally tell him 'hey... we need to talk' because maybe then it would be easier to hate you. but the truth is, he could never hate you. not anymore.

"so... you dont want to be in a relationship?" you asked quietly, confused more than anything. you look at his scarred face and messy head of dark curls. "...why?"

he sighed, "because this is too much," you scoffed, only more confused than before.

"what is?" you looked at him like he was crazy.

"...you," he said lowly, his voice resonating deep in his chest as he ran a hand over his face. you felt your heart pang as you diverted your eyes from him. you pursed your lips and your breathing got heavier. "well- not you- just-... this isnt worth the trouble im putting you through. that i will put you through."

"thats not for you to decide," you tell him, shaking your head at him. "I can choose when to call it quits and so far, im still fucking here."

you couldnt help but be offended. who wouldnt be after the person you care about is pushing you away. as far as you know, its unfair and incredibly ignorant.

"yea but how long until youre not?" he asked back angrily. "how long until you realize you can be doing so much more than taking care of me?"

"i dont want to be doing more! i want to be with you!" you tell him incredulously. he sighs and wets his lips, shaking his head at you. "do you just not want to be with me?"

he looks at you as if you had just said the earth was flat, "of course i do."

"so then why cant we?" you ask in complete exasperation. "what the fuck is the problem?"

"youre too fucking good for me!" he yelled back stepping closer to you. he threw his arms up in defeat, "is that what you want me to tell you? cause its fucking true. and i love you too much to let you rot away beside me."

your expression softens as your eyes dart back and forth between his eyes. in that moment you were speechless. and not because he had told you that he loved you, no you already knew that from his actions. it was the way he had said it. with more emotion than you could have expected from him.

"what if i wanted to 'rot away beside you'?" you asked him quietly.

"then you'd be an idiot," he says simply. "because we both know you have better shit to do. and better people to do that for."

you inhale deeply and release it as another exasperated sigh, "i love you," you say, emphasizing every word. "and its up to me whether or not i stay with you."

"and its up to me whether or not i want you here," he says crossing his arms. you feel you heart pang again, causing painful tingles to run down your arms and settle deep in your palms. "you need to run while you can. fucking get out of here before this gets more fucked up and shitty." you watched as he pointed between you two.

you step closer to him, "what are you so afraid of?" you plead to him with your eyes. just for this moment, for him to open up to you like how he had done hundreds of times before. "are you that scared I'll leave you cause you're what? 'too much'?"

he looked you in the eye, hesitating to speak for a moment. "i-..." he takes a deep breath. "yeah..."

you step closer, "youre not. not now. and it will only get easier." he starts shaking his head, backing away from you. "yes, it will! and if it ever gets to that point-"

"when it gets to that point," he tried correcting.

"no, if. because everything is an if," you say angrily. "you have no clue what its gonna be like. no fucking clue! so let us have this. while it lasts."

he sighs for what seems like the hundredth time that night, "i cant risk that."

"risk what? heartbreak? as if neither of us have gone through that before hundreds of times," you scoff.

"yeah, but ive never been heartbroken over someone like you."

"so then we hope that doesnt happen," you're trying. you're trying so hard to hold onto him. but your grasp is slipping. and he's trying to shake you loose.

"i cant take my chances," he shakes his head. "not this time."

"jesus fucking chirst!" you yell, tears welling up in your eyes. "let me love you! let me be with you! let me take care of you!"

"i cant let you do that! dont you fucking get it?!" he asks stepping closer to you until hes not even a foot away. "i dont want to see you leave! i cant have you around, cause when you do leave, i dont know what I'll do to myself!"

you stare into his eyes as your own vision starts to get blurry from unshed tears. you sniffle, keeping you gaze strongly on him. and you try one final time.

"so dont let me leave now, please," your voice comes out like a whisper. he swallows harshly and closes his eyes to stop his own tears from forming. "i dont want to move on from you when we havent even given it a chance."

"you'll have to," his voice matches yours. he opens his eyes and a tear falls as he looks at you. "fucking find someone who can actually hold you at night. who can make you dinner, who can give you a shower when you cant, who can actually fuck you when you want."

you tried to scoff, but it came out more like a sob, "i dont need that. i need you," your voice weak from the burn in the back of your throat. unshed tears welling up more.

"no you dont," he says, stepping closer. then leaning his forehead on yours. he closes his eyes, "please, go. for me."

your body racks out a sob, gasping for air to get out your next sentence. "if i leave, im just gonna wait for you."

he shakes his head against you, "no. no you wont."

"I'll wait until you realize you do deserve proper love." he continues to shake his head, pretending as if your words arent punching him right in the heart. "ill wait even if it takes you twenty fucking years."

"do you really think I'll survive twenty more years?" he asks with a laugh. you giggle back sadly, pursing your lips at the posibility of him dying. "do you really think I'll find my self-worth that soon?"

"I'll wait as long as i need to."

and you leave. with such a heavy heart but not without more tears than you could have imagined. and you try to move on. not easily but you put in an effort.

he writes songs with lyrics dedicated to you. written for you. whether its in a song about how he only want you at his side or how he has one person he will always be loyal to or about how his exes tried to chance him but one was different. you listen to it and somehow know its you.

you try to find a new partner to fill that void. but he will always be in your mind. as the right person but at the wrong time. the one that got away, if you will.

i like how angsty this was. anywayy, hope you enjoyed 😁😁 -nony

[wordstome]

the very first night (ntwdt pt 2)

tell me that you hate it hate that i'm no longer in your reach if i can't hear you say it maybe you can't change it, but if you never if you never put it on the line how am i gonna sign for it?

alpha colonel König x beta ex-lover reader

2nd person, no y/n, she/her pronouns, reader's callsign is Eden, reader speaks French, omegaverse, exes to lovers, fraternization, fantasy version of military protocol, probable incorrect use of "copy"

2.2k words

tw: mentions of dead bodies and vague violence, dirty talk, könig is in rut but no actual sex happens, mention of grinding

Do you guys still even remember this au??? 😅 I'm back to writing this fic with this specific format just like the last time I had bad writer's block. I'm sorry that I basically made you guys take a poll and then immediately disregarded the results :( metalhead König is going to be the next one published, and then kosovo maiden. Anyway, this is less of a foray into the omegaverse as it is into exploring a married couple's dynamic. Forgive me if it's inaccurate, I've never been married. (Several of the people who will probably read this are married so...I might be really embarrassing myself here lol)

“Two on your six, O’Conor.”

König watches as his colleague takes down his pursuants with practiced ease. “Good to have someone watching over me, Eden.” the man roughs into his comms.

“It was my pleasure, Declan.”

“Can you two keep the flirting off the main comms?” Fender huffs. König hears O’Conor snort before the line goes quiet.

“Steady,” Horangi says next to him.

“What?” König says.

“You’re breathing like an angry bull. It’s unnerving.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“It’s obvious you’re mad O’Conor’s flirting with your ex-wife.”

“She’s not—“ König lets out a sigh of defeat and tips his head away from the scope. “She can do whatever she wants. I’m not her keeper.”

“Right, which is why you’re white-knuckling your rifle and giving off the most furious pheromones I've ever felt."

König gives his friend a deadly side eye. “Can I help you?”

“Nah. Just confirming what I already know”, Horangi answers, unbearably smug.

König rolls his eyes and returns to the task at hand.

The two of you avoid each other, mostly.

When you’re forced to interact, it's with stiff professionalism. Cold and distant. The way it was when it was really, really bad.

You spend your time becoming closer to the other operators. O'Conor, for one, is someone you find yourself growing close to. In your line of work, it's usually not a good idea to get too attached to someone who may not see the next day, but it's part of your job to know these people now.

They're so competent that you can ignore the obvious, anyway.

König's always been competent, but watching him work nowadays is strange, like watching a remake of a nostalgic childhood film.

His movements are the same. He flicks his wrist the same way, with a heartbeat's worth of pause before the movement. Him taking cover, leaning with that awful posture you always got on his case about.

But everything about him is more ruthless, more efficient. The unrefined brutality of his youth is replaced with a honed precision that is foreign to you.

It stings, though you know the feeling has no right to exist.

You can't keep yourself from reminiscing about the past, when everything about him was familiar. When you knew him so well, it was enough to save both your lives.

"We've lost comms with König."

Your heart drops into your throat. You've been on several ops with him at this point, but this has never happened before.

"What do you mean you've lost comms?"

"He's not responding."

"What?" Fear grips your heart at everything that implies.

"He's in your building, Eden. Find him and extract. Copy."

You move slowly, like ice is flowing through your veins. "Copy."

You will yourself to calm down. Lost communications doesn't mean anything but lost communications. Panicking that you're going to encounter his body will only ensure you end up as a corpse as well. Besides, who could ever take down a man like that, tall like a giant and quick like a viper as he is?

If you had lost comms, what would you do? Re-establish them, of course. Pick your way out of the building and do everything in your power to reconnect with your team. From where König entered, he'd be exiting the building on the east side. You turn to head that way, then hesitate.

König's not you, though. He's not like any other member of the team. Proud, arrogant, vicious König, far more so than other alphas. You used to be afraid of him while he was at work, but eventually you came to realize that was simply how he was in his element—a different persona he wore to battle. As much as you wished he would be sensible and take the safe route, König would never take the safe route. He'd be carrying on the mission on his own, moving towards the target at the center of the building.

But he's a professional. No matter how good he is at what he does, he's not a one-man army, and he knows the right thing to do would be to extract. It's a gamble. If you head towards the east exit and he's not there, you could be losing precious time to find him. But if you head towards the center, you could be walking right into a fight you can't win and become overwhelmed.

You let out a shaky breath and attempt to calm your mind. What would he do? What is he thinking? If you make the wrong call, if you don't know your lover as well as you think you do, one of you won't be walking out of here. You close your eyes and think.

You open them with newfound determination and turn towards the center of the building.

You'd been right, of course, judging by the fallen enemies you find as you move through the hallways. But you don't allow yourself to feel sure until the moment you lay eyes on him, securing the target—a hard drive containing sensitive information.

"König!" you hiss, just as he whips towards you, gun drawn. He relaxes when he sees it's only you. Despite the fraught situation you're in, you can't help yourself from dashing towards him and burying your face into his chest in a hug.

"Eden," he says, his relief evident.

"You stupid motherfucker," you hiss. "You should have extracted the moment your comms cut out."

His eyes crinkle up behind his mask the way they always do when he smiles. "You knew I wouldn't."

"Yes, because I am burdened with being one of the few people on this earth who knows you like the back of my hand. Atlas holding up the sky," you grumble.

"I know you're relieved to see me," he responds, joy evident in his tone.

You let out a sigh. "Can we just get out of here?"

"Aye-aye, captain."

You could do without those memories, you think whenever the two of you trade clipped exchanges during ops now.

König still has traces of the arrogance of his youth, but it shows through less now. He's wiser, more patient and far less reckless.

You catch yourself admiring how good of a leader he's become. His connection with his teammates is like muscles flexing a hand.

You're no longer a part of that nervous system.

In fact, he's always catching you off guard now.

The energy in the common area is weird today.

You can’t quite put your finger on it. It’s like everyone’s walking on eggshells, but at the same time, nobody’s mood seems to be that affected. It’s like you’re all mice living in someone’s walls: going about business as usual, but with some looming threat casting a pall over everything.

“Is it just me or does the energy on base feel off today?” you ask Calisto.

“Oh. Yeah, that. Don’t worry about it,” she says. She swings open the refrigerator and pulls out coffee creamer. “No need for concern. König’s in rut.”

You do a double take. “He is?”

“Yeah.” She’s casual about it as she dumps cream and sugar into her coffee. “Usually he has a pretty light rut—he just gets testy and irritated. But for some reason this time is bad.” She offers you the cream, but you shake your head. “Don’t know what’s up with him, but he had to barricade himself in his room. His scent is driving people up the wall.”

You stare at the table in front of you. It can’t be a coincidence that König’s rut gets worse as soon as you’re near him again, can it?

When you look up, Horangi is staring at you from across the room. Slowly, he raises his mug to his lips, never once taking his eyes off of you.

You swallow the lump in your throat.

Calisto was right. The scent is overwhelming, but it's also familiar. You can't blame the others for avoiding the area. If you'd never dealt with him in this state before, you'd be hightailing it out of there too. Which is why you're doing this despite...everything.

You hover outside his door, trying to gather yourself, or work up the nerve to knock, or anything. It doesn’t matter in the end, though.

“I can smell you, liebling,” comes his voice, deep and growling and verging on feral. A shiver runs up your spine. You haven’t been called that in a long, long time.

“I only came here to bring you things. Water and…snacks.” you stammer, instantly hating yourself for how weak you sound.

“All these years later…and you still smell the same.” He blows right past your feeble little excuse, not even dignifying it with a response.

“I’m just here to check on you,” you murmur.

“Is that so.” You gasp as you hear a loud thud against the door from the other side. Oh God, it’s him, his body heat almost burning through the wood, pressed so close that you can hear his heaving breaths. “How kind of you.”

“It’s the least I can do, considering…”

“Considering it’s your fault I’m like this in the first place?”

Your legs feel weak. “Yes.”

His voice is silky, dangerous despite the barely restrained lust behind it. “Good girl.”

“That’s not fair,” you whisper.

“That’s a shame. You used to like it when I called you that. Still do, according to my nose.”

You wish he wasn’t right, but he is. You’re so slick that you’re soaking your underwear.

“Do you want the water or not?”

“Are you going to come with it?”

“I—”

“Because I promise you, if you’re still standing there when I open this door, you will get fucked against it.” He sounds like a savage animal snapping his jaws in hunger, and fuck, your body feels hot and weak in response. Every cell in your body is screaming out for you to throw open that door and let him fuck you limp. If you told him to break down the door, you’re sure that he would.

“You can’t say that anymore,” you whisper, hating the words as they leave you.

That seems to bring König back to rationality. You can picture him now on the other side of the door, shoulders slumping as he withdraws back into himself. "I...I'm sorry."

You slide down to sit on the ground with your back to the door, gripping a water bottle in a clenched fist. "It's like no time has passed at all, huh?"

You hear him let out a shaky breath, clearly trying to collect himself and bite back words he can't say. "Yeah."

That's the thing, isn't it? Your biology and his got the two of you into this situation in the first place. Very little of that has changed. Even though you've grown distanced in your minds, your bodies haven't forgotten the connection.

You're still struggling with how to feel about that. So much of your life has been dictated by what your body needs and wants. You've spent just as much time bucking against those needs and wants, so much that it feels like second nature.

"All of this...it takes me back. Do you remember the first night I spent with you during a rut?" you say. For a while you don't think he's heard you, but then he responds.

"How could I forget? It's my most embarrassing memory."

"Still?"

"I swore I would never let something like that happen again."

You giggle a little. "It was cute, for what it's worth." That first time, you'd come prepared with water and food, just like you had tonight, prepared for a long night full of...strenuous exercise. Instead, König had gotten so overwhelmed at his first rut with a partner that he came by just grinding on your leg and immediately fell into a 12-hour sleep.

"Yeah, you've said that. Doesn't make me cringe any less."

"And I'll say it again, it wasn't as bad as you think it is." You idly trace the cap of the water bottle with a fingertip. "There's no shame between us."

Another long pause before he responds. "Was."

A dull, throbbing pain nestles itself below your sternum.

"It...doesn't have to be past tense," you put forth tentatively.

"Doesn't it? We've gone right back to being strangers. You're still on the other side of the door."

You bite your lip. You can't deny that, nor the distance that's grown between the two of you.

This is all happening too fast. You don't know if you want to close the gap. You don't know if you're ready to make amends, after what happened.

"You're in no condition to have this conversation," you say, to distract both him and yourself.

"Conversation with you is hard to come by nowadays."

"Well...let's change that. Starting when your rut's over. Let's try talking like normal people again." This time, you don't know if you can blame your stupid biology for the relief you feel saying that. Maybe this time it's nothing but you and your treacherous heart.

You hear a thump against the door, but not an aggressive one. More like he's leaned his head against it. "I guess we have to start somewhere."

More silence. Then he speaks again, his voice tremulous.

"Can you stay? It's easier when you're here."

You swallow, your mouth gone dry like a desert. You can barely manage your next two words. "Of course."

The rest of the night is quiet, but you know he's there. At one point, you can even hear his steady, even breathing. Somewhere along the way, you notice that your breathing has synced with his.

The two of you fall asleep like that, propped up next to each other with a single layer of wood between you.

I miss you like it was the very first night...

I only revised this once while exhausted out of my fucking mind at 3am, so forgive me if anything's awkward or clunky. I'll probably go through it again in the morning (and die of cringe). But there we go! I hope you guys enjoy. As always, I would love to see your thoughts and comments <3

Regarding my tag lists: I've had to leave out a few people, so if you see your url missing from this, please let me know and I'll add you back. Also, apologies if you're here despite not asking to be tagged for this particular story. I haven't gotten around to sorting out fic-specific taglists yet 🥲

@kneelingshadowsalome @danibee33 @crowbird @poohkie90 @cumikering @iytatsworld @papaver-decervicatus @anxietyrain @cookiepie111 @no1runawaymilkdad @chthonian-spectre @backwards-readings @yxllowtxpe @hexqueensupreme @violetstyless @her-majesty-theking @vegan-peppermint @peonytarian @ghostslittlegf @deaddainish @teehee-47 @catluvwr @keiva1000 @waves-against-a-cliff @channelsoph @cutiecusp @itsagrimm @dins-riduur-anthe @mantishymns @lexuria @complexivelovely @black-moon-bunny @kit-williams @shebibtedmypepnis @mafer383

[lunisoular]

Hello!!

I wanted to ask if you had any asl brother fanfictions??

I'm literally not even close to those episodes but I've seen so many spoilers and art about them that I'm already obsessed lmao

It's totally cool if you don't have any or just don't want to share, it just seems like you would know some good one lol

Hope you have a good day! 😁

SO SORRY FOR THE LATE RESPONSE tumblr hasnt been notifying me lately

there’s so many fics i’ve gone insane over i’d be overjoyed to share !!!!!

i don’t know if u or anyone else want to avoid major spoilers, but just in case, i put a red star (*) next to those that have them 😗

light up, light up - taizi

aaah taizi has so many great fics but this is one of my favorites; u can go thru all their op works to find more i didn’t list. it’s focused around sabo and is like a role reversal. definitely teared up

a little murder never killed anybody - loserlife592

family reunion !! asl expresses their ways of affection and boggles some minds. so cute……..

a song to bring you home - taizi

canon divergence—not sure how much u’ve seen, but it’s definitely still worth the read. it’s wonderful and cute and makes me ILL

without you by my side - capisback

ace and luffy get into a small scuffle; ace figures things out eventually. brotherly love….. oh im dead on the floor it’s wonderful

fish day (it takes a village) - hyperbolicreverie

luffy drags ace and sabo to a festival. they have fun, there’s cool villager dialogue that never fails to satisfy me, and cuteness

*all for one - missmungoe

okay i have a fair amount of alternate marineford fics but damn it i am nothing if not a sucker for good endings. read if ur fine with slight spoilers lol !! good bonding moments

soft and quiet and peaceful - whirlybird70

snow day….. just some nice fluff. can never go wrong with that

where the wild things are - space_ghost_with_the_most

FRIEND GHOST HAS LOVELY FICS !! u should check them out !!! 23k words of feral jungle children asl and it’s WONDERFUL

light up the sky (with you) - whirlybird70

luffy once again drags ace and sabo to have an adventure, this time with fireworks !! + makino cameo. it’s so cute the way they’re written…. !!

bedtime rituals - poisonstain

sweet n soft sickfic…… the series is about something different, this is a flashback, so u can check out the other fics in it if u’d like !

signal lamps - cowboy_emoji

ace and luffy catch fireflies, dadan and luffy talk a bit about ace. luffys his weirdly perceptive self; dadan continues to deal with them. love <3

*take a step in mine - soccersarah01

another alternate marineford—if ur fine with spoilers, it’s good ! it takes a sec, but sweet asl reunion <3

*time moves through you - lampalot7

technically only ace and luffy but i’ve reread this one so many times. it does have both marineford and gear 5 spoilers tho, so keep that in mind if u want to avoid them. time travel, little luffy cameo, AUGH it’s all so cute

*there is thunder in our hearts / you were always gold to me - taizi

these are also both alternate marineford + the latter gear 5, sorry 🫢 i think u get the gist by now

put your faith in what you most believe in - taizi

taizi just has lovely asl fics it’s insane. sickfic, sabo worries, but they both feel better in the end <3

here in spirit - lampalot7

GHOST ASL FIC !!!!! i’ve loved it for a while, and it inspired a few aspects of my own ghost au. made me cry……. god i love ghosts

close calls (or, monkey d. dragon’s no good, very bad day) - isntitlupintic

dragon’s perspective and focuses a lot on him, but there are some sweet asl moments !!! dragon saves the day !

[yelenasdiary]

Hello 👋

I saw your requests say open, but I know you're struggling with motivation to get content out so no worries if you cannot or don't want to fulfill this but I'm having a surgery soon so I'm requesting from some of my friends/fav writers hoping it helps me out in recovery.

Anyway sorry for the rambling lol, here's my idea. I was thinking like something with BuckyNat and R where Reader has to undergo surgery for something (maybe an old injury became too bad to deal with or maybe something happened on a mission that needs attention) and they're super nervous about it and hesitant to agree so Nat and Bucky sit down with them and just offer lots or love and support (even though they're both nervous too cuz that's their girl) so when Rs getting the surgery they're a bit of a mess until they know she's alright and then they help her settle into their room and help care for her as she starts to mend.

If you decide to write it I thank you lots in advance ☺️

Drabble || It's All Gonna Be Okay

Pairing: BuckyNat x Reader

Summary: When a mission goes wrong, you're told you need realignment osteotomy surgery, the idea of it makes you worried and full of nerves in which your partners help you overcome.

Tiny Angst, Fluff

Warnings: Medical talk, she/her pronouns used (I hope that's okay!!), This is not corrected or proof read. | 0.6K

Translations: detka (baby),

AC: I hope your op goes well!! I also hope this helps, sorry I made it a Drabble, I wanted to get this posted asap for you x

Bucky smiled softly at you, "what's on your mind doll?" he asked seeing your mind was a million miles away. Natasha sitting on the right side of your hospital bed, she looked up at the two of you.

"The thought of being put to sleep and some stranger playing around inside my body and touching my bones is freaking me out" you replied honestly. Bucky let out a soft chuckle, "doll, they are professionals" he reminded you.

"Yeah, they're not even thinking about how weird it is that they're touching somebodies bones" Nat pitched in. Sure, they had a point the thought of it was still uncomfortable. "Okay but what if something goes wrong?" you questioned. Nat placed her hand on top of yours, "detka, I promise you nothing is going to happen"

"That's right doll, nothing is going happen to my darling. You'll be in and out in no time and Nat and I will be waiting by your side" Bucky added. You looked over to him on your left side, "do you promise?" you asked.

"Have I ever broken a promise to you before?" he questioned with a soft smile. The support from the two of them did help ease some of your nerves and finally you agreed with your surgeon that you'd have the surgery on the condition that both Nat and Bucky were able to watch from the viewing room. At first your surgeon wasn't onboard with the idea but with a little sweet talking from Bucky and the two of them were sat in the view room watching the surgery unfold from above.

"She'll be okay" Natasha places her hand on Bucky's knee when she noticed the worrying look in his eyes. "I know but still, that's our girl down there, I can't help but worry" he replied. Nat rested her head on Bucky's right shoulder, "I know love, I'm worried too" she admitted.

They watched for what felt like forever until the operation was a success and you were returned to your room when both Nat and Bucky waited patiently for you to wake up, both of them holding your hand. When your eyes finally fluttered open, smiles filled the room. Bucky was relieved and Nat was just happy to see your beautiful eyes once more.

"How are you feeling detka?" Natasha asked, placing a kiss on your temple. "Tired" you replied, struggling to keep your eyes open, the last of the anaesthesia winning the battle making your partners lightly chuckle.

"I'll go get us some dinner, what do you want?" Nat asked Bucky knowing full well he wasn't going to leave your side for a second. "Burgers?" he replied, looking up at Nat as she placed a hand on his left shoulder, "you've got it soldier" Nat said, placing a kiss on his cheek.

----

A few weeks after your operation you started PT. Natasha made her it mission to make sure you had the best physiotherapist in the county, although you told Natasha it wasn't necessary but Bucky was on team Nat and you lost that battle.

Bucky basically waited on you hand and foot, he just wanted to make sure you were okay and in no pain. Night was one your favourite time of day because Natasha would somehow have dinner ready, by somehow you mean you were sure that Wanda cooked and Nat took the credit but you thought it was sweet she wanted to do something nice each night and let it slide.

After dinner, the three of you would snuggle up in bed, carefully of your knee of course but with the two people you love the most beside you, the pain from your knee was the least of your worries.