#thank you to all the kudos & comments & inspiration

[illumiera]

happy third anniversary, i fear no fate!

as silly as it sounds, i just wanted to take a moment to celebrate that it's been three whole years since i started posting the story of my two silly dragons on AO3!

can you believe that i originally intended this to be a maximum of ten chapters, something to write just to get myself into writing again? i didn't think more than a handful of people would ever read it, much less like it or my elentari herself, but that didn't matter. the spark of inspiration i had for this fic (it was a case of "okay, i like the idea of this ship a lot, but i'm not writing a fic for them. ever. oh, somehow i've written part of an outline? and now i'm really invested? damn it") got me putting hands to my keyboard at a time where i thought all of my creativity had dried up for good, and for that, i'm forever grateful.

i'm also forever grateful that, while working on this story, i decided to stop being a fandom lurker for once in my life. without it, i wouldn't have met my wonderful friends and mutuals who continue to inspire me, so thank you all! thank you, too, to anyone who's ever taken the time to read, kudos, comment, or bookmark this story, and to anyone who's ever enjoyed these characters who've become so beloved to me! i'm so glad to have you along for the ride, and i'm looking forward to sharing what happens next! 💖

[ziggykatzfan]

after a few days of tinkering and considering, i'm proud to say.. the ziggykatzfan SPN Kinktober 2023 is complete!

with 24 works spanning many (many) different ships and a total of 32,563 words-- an average of 1,356 words per work, btw-- i have officially given up on trying to complete all the prompts  🎉 🎉

read the whole series here (and please tell me what you think! i'll be replying to all my lovely comments now, so thank you to everyone who cheered me on :3 some of these works will Definitely be getting a chapter 2)

[myownwholewildworld]

uniformed!joel one shot - the police officer

series masterlist | main masterlist | part ii

pairing: police officer!joel x f!reader.

summary: you're driving back home and, unbeknownst to you, you've committed quite a few traffic offences, noticed by the one and only police officer, joel miller. he's not gonna let you get your way that easily.

a/n: umm hello?? idk what happened, but here we are. i threw this idea to the wind, people seemed to like it, so i started typing and this is what came out. read the warnings and do not judge me please lol this is inspired by this and this ask, so kudos to them! so basically i have decided to start a series of one shots where joel miller wears different uniforms. YEAH, i know, i'm not okay but that's okay. if you guys have any suggestions for this series, my askbox is open! also, i've decided that if i/you guys want, i can write the same uniformed!joel more than once (e.g. two fics of police officer!joel). if someone is interested in being in the taglist for this series, please do let me know. anyways, i do appreciate all comments, reblogs, likes and asks. as always thank you for reading! <3

warnings: 18+, mdni. no outbreak AU. dark theme. filthy smut. dub-con. age gap, no age gap, you choose (joel is mid-late 40s, reader is at least of legal drinking age). power imbalance (joel is a cop). alcohol consumption (reader is sober by the time it happens). fingering. squirting. oral (m and f receiving). mouth fucking. slut shaming. cheating. rough, public sex. unprotected piv. creampie. joel is a bully and a dick, basically, so be warned. alternating pov. no description of reader apart from having hair that can be pulled. not proofread so i'm sorry.

w/c: ~4.6k.

tagging some people who seemed to be v interested (please let me know if you want to be removed, no pressure!):

@fartcloudfartcloud @liciafonseca @fan-fiction-floozy @sweetlummie

“Shit”, you mumbled as the car keys slipped off your fingers.

You crouched down and blindly dabbed the asphalt, your phone falling off your hand too. You grunted in frustration ― maybe you did drink a bit more than what you had intended. Not to the point where you thought it would be dangerous, otherwise you wouldn’t be driving home. You were already clumsy when sober, so this was no sign of anything, really.

The keys had tumbled under your car, so you got on all fours and bent over to reach. After a few trials, you finally got hold of them. Steadying yourself on the handle of the driver’s side of your car, you got up. Your tiny, fitted skirt had scrunched up at your waist, so you pulled from the hem to bring it back down. Looking around, you hoped you hadn’t flashed anyone.

You had dressed up for the occasion. As you grew older, your group of friends slowly drifted apart, so agreeing on a date and time to meet up had been a fucking miracle. You had been out since midday and sipped on many margaritas to quench your thirst. But knowing you would need to drive back home, you had stopped drinking a couple of hours ago. If you could, you would have gotten hammered. Living in the outskirts of Austin sucked.

You managed to finally open your vehicle and sat down. You hunched down, avoiding the steering wheel, to undo your heels. A satisfied sigh escaped your lips when you took them off ― your feet were hurting so bad, you questioned all of your life choices. A minute later the motor roared awake, and you were on your merry way without a hitch.

That was until you drove out of the city center onto not very well-lit roads. You were driving through an industrial estate when sirens went off behind you. Clicking your tongue, you looked through the rearview mirror, thinking it may be an ambulance asking you to give way.

Ah, no, you were very mistaken. It was a freaking police car, and it seemed like it was asking you to pull over. Great, just fucking great, you thought.

The headlights blinded you, so you couldn’t see the man approaching your car. Then you heard a tap, tap, tap on your window, the officer dazing you with the torchlight. You inhaled deeply, putting on your best smile, and rolled down the window.

“Good evening, officer. What can I do for ya?”, you battered your eyelashes at him, still dazzled by the torchlight.

Maybe if you played all sweet and innocent, he would take pity on you and let you go.

However, you were met with a deep, husky voice.

“License and proof of insurance”, he barked, no good evening miss, no please, nothing. So rude.

When he put down the torch, you caught a glimpse of the guy’s face. Bearded jaw with a prominent moustache, brown curly hair with slivers of silver, an attractive hooked nose, and some devilish hazel eyes. He was in his mid or late forties and was so fucking handsome you almost drooled at the sight.

You bit your bottom lip, a lopsided smile curling at the corners.

“Yes, of course, officer”, your voice was sweet and smooth as you bowed over the passenger’s seat, your boobs casually resting on the steering wheel.

You opened the glove box and handed him the papers, faking the most innocent, girly look you could muster.

“Is there something wrong, officer?”, you asked, leaning on the door frame, gifting him with the tentative sight of your deep cleavage.

His eyes wandered off the papers he was holding and lingered where you intended. You read the tag on his shirt: Officer Miller. Well, Officer Miller looked damn good in that tight uniform. The black shirt clung to his flexed biceps, the buttons slightly giving way to the bulge of his chest, the belt hugging his waist and… good fucking lord, those thighs, the size of a rugby player’s.

Your mouth watered.

You would lie to yourself if you said you were not affected by his presence. In fact, your damp cunt might as well fucking disagree with you. You pressed your knees together, unconsciously looking for some relief to the sudden wet heat gathering in between your legs.

His eyes drifted up lazily, locking on to yours. You swore a muscle on his jaw twitched.

“You were speeding, doing 40 on a 30-mph road. And your headlights are off”, he replied, his tone raspy.

Fuuuuuuuck, that’s why I couldn’t see shit. Were you that drunk? You didn’t feel like it.

Your face expression didn’t flinch, playing dumb might just do the trick. So you giggled, smacking your forehead with the palm of your hand.

“Ah, silly me. But it was well lit up until now, sir, so no harm done, right?”, your honeyed voice pleaded. “I swear this was a 40-mph road a couple of months ago?”

“It was but got changed. Did you not see the road sign?”, he seemed to be very annoyed.

You had no time to answer, because Officer Miller pointed to your lap. For a second you panicked ― surely your arousal had not drenched your clothes, right? You were aware of how wet your pussy was, but not to that extreme. Right? You looked down ― your phone was resting on your lap, but nothing else. A wave of relief overcame you and then you glanced up at him, confused.

“You were talking on the phone while driving, I presume.”

You gasped and promptly shook no with your head.

“No, no, officer. You see, I left it there when I got in the car, I forgot it was on my lap. I promise I wasn’t texting or anything like that.” Your explanation was genuine, but he cocked a brow. “I wouldn’t lie to you, sir.”

“Why? Because you’re a good girl?”. That question caught you off guard and turned you on at the same time, sending shivers down your spine. Your clit twitched. You gaped and nodded unwittingly. “I see. Step out of the car.”

Your heart was racing, attempting to jump out of your chest. Maybe you had been too suggestive. But he was the embodiment of the law, surely the officer had had his good share of temptation and would not yield so easily.

You got out of your sedan, slightly dishevelled, and tugged at your skirt so it would stop riding up your thighs. Officer Miller had taken one step back, his eyes measuring you from top to bottom, loitering on your breasts. His tongue quickly darted out to wet his bottom lip ― you were mesmerised by the simple gesture and pondered how it would feel if you choked on his tongue.

That thought made your cunt gush some more. You pursed your lips ― eyes on him, trying to convey normalcy.

“You’ve been drinking and have also been driving barefoot. That’s a total of, what, five offences?”. Miller clicked his tongue in disapproval. “It’s like you’re begging to spend the night in a cell.” His eyes flickered with malice ― and something else. Lust?

You really did not want to sleep in a cell tonight. You just wanted to get home, that was all. Also, most of your “offences” were bullshit. You were certain he couldn’t charge you with half of it, but his wickedness made you wary.

“I’m not drunk,” you said with a languid smile, touching his forearm, his arms crossed at his chest. “I stopped drinking two hours ago, officer.”

He raised an eyebrow ― Officer Miller didn’t believe a word you said.

“I can smell it.” You didn’t know if it was intentional or not, but his eyes drifted down to your pussy.

“I-It?”, you repeated, lips parted.

He didn’t say anything, just stared at you for a long minute. Your bravery had flaked a bit, although your cunt was begging for him to do something about it.

Joel was having a hard time curbing his horniness. You were so inviting, so insinuating, it was like you were asking to be fucked there and then. Oh, yes, you were, he knew you were. Showing off your boobs, wetting your lips, rubbing your knees together, playing with the edge of your tiny skirt. He had noticed every single one of your seductive attempts.

His cock was hard, so much so that it was stretching against the zipper of his work trousers. He kept his arms crossed, but what he really wanted to do was to readjust his erection so it wouldn’t be so damn uncomfortable.

“Turn around, hands on the car”, he ordered with a steely voice.

You first looked muddled, but finally obliged, giving him your back ― your palms resting on the roof of your car, your knees pressed together. He was sure your cunt was pulsing, and you were just trying to calm yourself down.

The thought made him mad with lechery. His dick was throbbing already.

“I’m going to pat you down, and then I’m gonna cuff you. Understood?”, he warned you, getting close to you.

You suddenly looked over your shoulder, your smile unwavering. You tilted your pelvis back, your ass against his bulge. You glanced down and then back up at him decisively.

“I’m sure we can work something out, officer?”, you whispered, your butt pressing on his swollen lump.

No, Joel was not imagining things. You were definitely asking to be fucked senseless in exchange for just a warning. He was still contemplating whether to entertain the idea or not. You were tempting, he would give you that. Your body was built to satisfy a man’s pleasure ― he could see that even when you were clothed. Barely clothed. Your top was too small, your boobs almost spilling over the neckline; your skirt was too short, your ass cheeks almost visible ― and he was sure you had some slutty heels on before you jumped into the car.

His cock jerked at the thought of rearranging your guts. Because that was what Joel would do to you if he had the chance. He cupped his groin for a second now that you were not looking, pressing it slightly to relieve some of the tension.

It didn’t help. If anything, it made it worse. He suppressed a frustrated groan.

Joel slotted his right knee in between your legs and forced you to separate them, his heavy boot grounding him. “I’ll think about it. In the meantime, you’re under arrest for at least reckless driving. Now stay still.” He was fully aware of how the top of his thigh brushed your crotch, but made a titanic effort to ignore it, for his own sanity.

Your panties were so fucking drenched, you feared your discharge might start dripping down your inner thighs. In fact, you let your head down to check discreetly and sighed with relief ― nothing to worry about, he wouldn’t notice how fucking horny you were.

Then he forcefully parted your legs, and you felt the fabric of his trousers sliding against your wet panties. The subtle touch made you jerked your hips up and then back down in surprise, your clothed cunt flushed against his thigh ― you had to swallow the sluttiest moan of your entire life, it felt damn good.

“I’m― I’m sorry”, you mumbled, lifting your body up to break the contact.

You didn’t need to look down to know that there would be a wet patch on his black trousers.

“You should be, making a mess of my uniform like that”, he grunted, exasperated.

Pressing your lips, you inspected every inch of the roof of your car while he patted you down. His big, calloused hands lingered on your underboob longer than necessary, almost cupping them. Both hands travelled down to your waist, his fingertips slightly under the waistband of your skirt.

Your heart was pounding, suddenly unsure of the whole thing. What were you really doing? Were you so desperate that you would let him use you in exchange for letting you go? Were you getting more than what you had bargained for?

It was like the excitement had burnt the last drop of alcohol in your blood and now you were fully aware of what you had unleashed.

But you had no more time to question your attitude, because Officer Miller completely slipped one of his hands under your underwear and buried all of his fingers in your soaked folds, except for his thumb which quickly found your clit. You shut your eyes and moaned audibly, your knees giving way.

His free hand wrapped around your waist to help you stand up, while his fingers traversed your whole slit, from your perineum to your clit, buttering your cunt with your own fluids.

“You are so fucking wet already, you should be ashamed of yourself”, he whispered in your ear while he pushed your ass back into his bulge.

Your treacherous body had awakened at his touch, your clit felt like it was on fire and your cunt was pulsating so hard it was uncomfortable. You rubbed his dick with your buttocks, unconsciously looking for some more friction. Miller groaned behind you, jerking you closer, his cock hard pressed against your ass.

Two of his fingers dipped further down and found your leaking hole, his thumb still rubbing your clit languidly. You whimpered and stirred your hips when one fingertip circled your entrance tentatively. Your back arched, pushing your butt further into his erection.

“Aren’t you a slut?”, he hissed as both fingers slid inside you, your brain not registering his words.

Your moist pussy clenched around his fingers, squeezing them hard. Every time your heart beat, so did your cunt. Officer Miller started fingering you, first slowly, and then picking up a relentless pace. Unable to control yourself, you mewled like a kitten in heat, your forehead now resting against the cold metal of your car and a thread of spit hanging from your mouth. Your needy cunt was so stimulated, so hot, so slippery, you couldn’t stop yourself from coming, even if you wanted to.

So you let go. You orgasmed so hard, you squirted with his fingers still dug in your creamy pussy. But you coming didn’t stop Officer Miller from driving his digits inside of you over and over again, forcing another climax on you a minute later. Your inner walls palpitated so violently, you felt the emptiness of your womb. Then you noticed it: the trickle of your own cum streaming down your inner thighs.

Officer Miller forced his fingers out of you, a pop sound making it obvious that your pussy was drown in your own fluids. The cop tapped your pussy a few times, almost gently, as the last wave washed off your nerve endings. You had never come so hard in your life before. Not even your boyfriend of five years had been able to turn you on this bad.

When your limbs regained some strength, Miller let go of your waist and stepped back. You slowly turned around to face him, but as your eyes drifted down his uniform, you realised that there was a new wet patch on his trousers, this time on his bulge. You had leaked so much, you had drenched his own pants.

You tried to find the words to explain to him that this was not what you had intended. Or was it?

“You’re still under arrest”, his voice was resolute, as if nothing of what just happened had affected him.

Before your neurons could make contact with each other, he handcuffed you, your laced hands resting in front of you, conveniently covering your spent pussy.

“But―”.

“No but’s, blackmailing a cop is an offence too. So that makes it six now, right?”, he cut you off.

You huffed, not believing what he was saying. You had not blackmailed him, not even close, he was just making it up now. Before you could argue, Officer Miller removed the keys from the ignition, shut the driver’s door and locked your car. He then grabbed you by your elbow, forcing you to walk in front of him towards his cruiser.

“Oh, c’mon, you’re now just bullying me”, you complained, your sweet façade quickly toppling.

Miller didn’t reply to your taunting. He simply opened the back door of his Crown Vic and threw you in. You almost tripped but manage to stop the falling. You sat down on the seat, your legs still out of the car, bare soles against the asphalt.

You didn’t know what possessed you, but your cuffed hands darted up and played with the buckle of his belt. Maybe if you gave him some head, he would relax and let you go. You were already in too deep anyway, your whipped pussy living proof of your desire.

“Officer, please, I can make it worth your while if you let me go”, you muttered, your fingers unclasping his belt.

Miller did not say one word, he just stared you down while you held his gaze. His waist slanted forward in an unspoken invitation, his eyes swirling with lust and wickedness.

You were not sure why you were doing this, or if you wanted to do this. But you were a horny mess, your pulsing cunt urging you to keep going, saturating your panties even more. Sure, you could drive home and ask your boyfriend to take care of you, but by the looks of it, you were going to spend the night in a station cell if you didn't do something about it. About him.

With firm hands, you undid the buckle and unzipped his trousers. His big, meaty cock sprung out with no warning, swaying in front of you. He was wearing no underwear. You marvelled at the sight ― his dick was the longest you had ever seen with a considerable girth, veiny and hairy at the base. It looked scary, but also fucking tempting.

“Don’t just stare, do something”, he commanded, grabbing your cuffed hands to bring them closer to his erection.

Ah, someone is impatient, you thought with a smirk before wrapping both of your hands around his circumference. With your mouth agape, close to his leaking tip, you rubbed the precum against his slit with your thumb and then started pumping him. His cock was palpitating, hard and velvety under your clasp ― and warm, so fucking warm you could feel his blood rushing underneath.

His jaw clenched, his eyes transfixed on your moving hands as you upped the rhythm. And then, without prior notice, he fisted your hair in a ponytail and drove his whole dick down your parted lips. You retched when his glans surpassed your uvula and coughed with his cock still in your mouth.

You were suffocating, but he didn’t give a fuck. In any case, he pushed his cock further down, but it had nowhere to go. His pubic hairs tingled the tip of your nose as you looked up, silently asking for mercy with teary eyes.

Miller glanced down at you and the motherfucker just smiled as you were still gagging.

“Look at you. What a whore, you’re taking it so well”, he mumbled under his breath before pushing your head back.

His cock slid out and you coughed to clear your throat of precum, swallowing it. His brutish attitude, although unwelcome, made your traitor of a cunt gush.

“I’m gonna fuck your throat to teach you a lesson. Open up for me, darlin’.”

You didn’t know why, but you just obeyed. Without breaking visual contact, the cop slotted his cock back in between your lips. With his hands on your temples, he tilted his hips forward until his tip stroked the end of your throat. Then he pulled out harshly and started jackhammering your mouth relentlessly, driving his cock in as far as he could every single time, his hairy balls hitting your chin. With Miller taking the lead, your cuffed hands were free. They were lazily resting on your lap until you dipped them down, your index caressing your deprived clit.

You just took it like a champ. After a while, your gag reflex relaxed and you dared to press your lips around his girth, so it would be more pleasurable for him. His slick cock was drumming in your mouth, filling it up entirely, choking you.

Miller pulled your head back sternly ― you were panting like a puppy by the time he was done with your throat. Your eyelashes were damp with unspent tears. You were sure that tomorrow it was going to hurt like if you had caught the worst cold of your life. Your mouth was filled with his sticky precum, a bridge of it connecting your mouth to his cock.

“You’ve not thrown up, well done”, he chuckled darkly. “Clean this mess for me.”

Again, as if you were not in control of yourself, you did as you were told. You licked his throbbing cock, swallowing all the fluids you had swept off his groin.

He lightly patted your cheek. “Good girl, now get up and take that finger out of your pussy.”

You had not realised you had been fingering yourself all along and your clit was begging for some relief. With a trembling sigh, you removed your hand from in between your legs and stood up.

Only then you caught on: he had not come yet. Fuck, you thought.

Did you want this? You were not sure. Letting him finger you and giving him head was one thing, but letting him fuck you was a completely different story. You were not a slut nor a cheater, but he made you feel like one. Your dribbling pussy made you feel like one.

Joel snatched his fingers around your elbow once again and made you walk to the front of his cruiser. He was in extreme need of relief ― his cock was pulsing so hard it was driving him mad with lust. He was gonna fuck that cunt of yours till you begged him to stop.

Unceremoniously, he splayed you down across the hood of his car ― your chest against the metal surface, your ass up in the air and your legs spread wide. If he could take a picture to jerk himself off to, he would.

He needed to see for himself, taste for himself. He was sure as hell that your pussy was drooling, beseeching to be filled to the brim. So he knelt behind you and parted your ass cheeks to have a better look. You whimpered, tiptoeing to give him better access to your soaked flaps.

“You’re such a slut. I could scrunch your panties to fill up an entire glass with your cum. Your thighs are all wet and tacky too”, he couldn’t stop himself from pointing it out, driving his hands up from the back of your knees, up your inner thighs, until they reached your crotch, framing your pussy.

He leaned forward and sipped from the fountain of your underwear, his fingers digging in the flesh of your ass, smelling your sweet sex. You wept, moving your hips against his mouth. Ah, yes, he knew you wanted him to fuck you hard. Very hard.

Joel rode up your tight skirt, exposing your ass to the elements. And then he pulled down your panties and put them in the pocket of his vest, as if they were a trophy. Because they were.

He now could have a better look at your creamy cunt, all smeared with your wanton fluids. Spreading your pussy open with his hands, he lapped you entirely a few times, even your butthole. Joel heard your moans loud and clear, knowing that you had never had your pussy eaten this good before. So he kept on going ― lapping, licking, sucking, biting until you squirted in his mouth, leaking like a broken tap and whining like a bitch in heat.

Joel drank it all and when you were finished, he stood up. He spanked your ass and with a swift movement, impaled you until his balls were flat against your thighs.

You screamed, literally screamed at the top of your lungs, when he stabbed you with his cock. You tried to hold onto something, but there was nothing you could grab. This was exactly what your cunt needed, being stuffed like a goddamn turkey in thanksgiving. Officer Miller drove his cock in and out of you lazily at first, and then he started fucking you stupid with such vigour that your body was being rocked back and forth, the handcuffs sliding against the hood, scratching the metal underneath.

You just moaned uncontrollably throughout the whole thing, unable to quieten yourself. Your cunt clutched around his throbbing dick, squeezing it hard, so hard you felt your muscles strain. Your clit spasmed severely, another fucking climax creeping up on you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK”, you implored to the sky, to him, to whoever was listening.

The cop then fisted your hair in a ponytail and pulled backwards, forcing you up off the hood, your back arching against his chest while he drilled you mercilessly. You were sure the squelching sounds your pussy was making could be heard from a mile away.

Then you finally came again, shrieking ― your treacherous pussy clamping down on his dick, leaking absolutely everywhere, trying to desperately milk him dry. Your eyes welled up, your black eyeliner running down your cheeks.

“You’re gonna take it inside and you’re not gonna complain”, he moaned in your ear and even in your blissful daze, you panicked.

“I’ve got a boyfriend,” you mentioned, but you knew it wasn’t going to stop him.

“Ah, do you? Doesn’t seem like it right now”, and then he huffed heavily, letting go, driving his cock as far inside of you as he physically could.

His warm cum filled you to the brim, painting your walls of sticky white. Irremediably, you sighed, heaving, and closed your eyes, letting yourself rejoice in how full you were of his spent, of his cock.

And as soon as it started, it ended. His dick slid out of your crying, sensitive pussy, leaving your damp skin exposed to the cold air.

You took a minute to compose yourself and pushing down your skirt. When you looked at him, he had already tucked away his cock back in his work trousers, his cop uniform slightly in disarray. Now there were more wet, sticky patches adorning his groin area, a mixture of your shared pleasure.

“Can I have my panties back, please?”, you requested, extending your hand to him, with a sunny, albeit quivering, smile.

“No, I’m keeping them.” You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Can I at least have a tissue to clean myself up?”, your voice grew smaller as you lost confidence.

“No. I want you to go home with your pussy bursting with my cum, so that boyfriend of yours knows you’ve been fucked stupid by someone else”, he explained, full of himself.

At least you were going home. Or so you thought until you saw him walk to the back door of his Crown Vic, holding it open for you to jump in.

“This means nothing, you’re still spending the night in the cell”, he said, matter-of-factly.

You scoffed, angry. “Are you fucking serious?”, you asked, although what you really wanted to do was cry.

But you swallowed your tears, contrite ― your pride was bigger than your shame. And right now, you felt mortified.

What had you done?

Well, you had gambled, and you lost.

But, on the other hand, he had fucked you so good, so filthy, you were not sure any other cock would measure up to his.

[kiwriteswords]

I Promise You This

Chapter One: All That Emptiness Knows Just Where I Live

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Trigger Warnings: Chronic illness, reader with past abusive relationship, canon-typical violence, canon-typical themes, language, future sexual themes

Rating: Mature for mature themes and future chapters.

Word Count: 1k

Summary: Y/N, the newest and youngest profiler in the BAU, is haunted by her past—an abusive relationship and an illness she keeps hidden from her team. Though skilled in her work, she distances herself emotionally, fearing vulnerability. Aaron Hotchner, her reserved and perceptive boss, begins to notice the cracks in her carefully constructed walls as they navigate high-stakes cases together. Drawn to her resilience, Hotch finds himself increasingly protective of Y/N. As their bond deepens, both must confront their own emotional barriers, leading to an unexpected connection amidst the darkness of their work.

AN: I originally posted this story back in 2021, but for a multitude of reasons, I stepped away from the fandom and removed it. Now, in 2024, I’ve decided to return and revisit this fic with a fresh perspective. I’m currently in the process of rewriting the entire 45-chapter story, adding new depth, and refining the plot. As I re-upload the chapters, I will be including trigger warnings (TWs) for sensitive content. However, if I miss something, please don’t hesitate to let me know. Your comments, shares, and likes/kudos are incredibly encouraging and motivate me to keep working on this rewrite, as well as inspire new content. Thank you for being here, and I hope you enjoy the updated version of this story!— Ki

Masterlist | I Promise You This | Ao3

You stare out the jet’s window, your eyes tracing the clouds below. Sleep eludes you, and the quiet conversation among your team members fades into the background. Music hums softly in your ears, a barely audible escape. You know the odds—three missing children—and yet your mind feels curiously empty.

Laughter breaks through your thoughts. You glance over and see Morgan teasing Reid, as usual. The whole team joins in, and even Hotch chuckles. If he’s laughing, whatever Reid said must have been good.

You smile faintly, though it doesn’t reach your eyes. Isolation is familiar to you—whether you're buried in a book or lost in your music, you’ve always found comfort in keeping a certain distance. It’s not about not fitting in, at least not entirely. The team welcomed you when you joined. They accepted you. But you’ve never quite let yourself feel like you belong.

Only in your twenties, you’ve already lived more life than most people twice your age. A childhood overshadowed by responsibilities that shouldn’t have been yours, and a turbulent adolescence marked by health problems that kept you in and out of hospitals. You were the kid who missed weeks of school but somehow still pulled straight A’s. The one who didn’t go to prom, didn’t have a high school sweetheart, and definitely didn’t have a tight-knit group of friends.

Then there was him. The boy who promised you the world but only gave you heartache. The one who made you feel small, unworthy, broken—both with his words and his hands. The one who convinced you to stay, even when every fiber of your being screamed to leave. You did leave, eventually, but not without scars, some of which never quite healed.

No one on the team knows any of this. To them, you’re just Y/N, the youngest, least experienced profiler in the BAU. A fast learner, sure. Someone who pulls her weight in the field. But you’ve made sure your past is buried deep, nowhere near your file. Only Spencer ever asked why your academic timeline was a little... unconventional. You gave him the same story you’ve told everyone else: You took time to travel.

The truth? You finished undergrad earlier than most, and jumped into grad school while working at a local field office. It was around that time the BAU reached out, and suddenly, your life was moving at a pace you could barely keep up with. Your health remained an ongoing battle, but that was nobody’s business. You’ve never let it slow you down, and you’re not about to start now.

Therapy helped. It gave you the tools to face your past and, more importantly, to reclaim your future. Joining the BAU felt like a step in the right direction—a chance to put your trauma to use, to give your pain purpose. And if you keep your distance from the team, it’s not because you don’t trust them. It’s because trusting people still feels like a risk.

The jet dips, signaling the approach to Phoenix. Your body tenses involuntarily. You haven’t been back here in years, not since... him. You’re not sure how you’ll react once your feet touch the ground again.

"What are you listening to?" Hotch’s voice pulls you from your thoughts.

You jump, startled by his sudden appearance across from you. He watches you with that quiet intensity, and for a moment, you wonder how long he’s been sitting there.

"Nothing important," you murmur, pausing the music and slipping your headphones out.

Hotch’s gaze lingers, and you shift uncomfortably. It’s not that he’s unkind—far from it. But there’s something about his presence, his authority, that makes you second-guess yourself.

"You seemed deep in thought," he notes, a rare hint of amusement in his voice.

"Just zoning out," you reply with a shrug. "Long flight."

He nods but doesn’t push. Hotch is observant, more so than the others. He’s noticed the way you isolate yourself on these flights, how you always seem a little more on edge than you let on. But he hasn’t asked, not yet. You’re grateful for that.

"What were you all laughing about earlier?" you ask, more to fill the silence than out of genuine curiosity.

"Reid’s latest hairstyle," Hotch replies with a smirk. "Morgan’s convinced he’s trying out for a boy band."

You laugh softly, surprising yourself. "He does have that early 2000s look going for him."

"Maybe next week he’ll try the ‘classic detective’ look," Hotch says, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement.

For a moment, the tension eases. You almost forget where you’re headed.

"Have you gone over the case file?" Hotch asks, his tone shifting back to business.

"Yeah," you nod, glancing back out the window. The familiar skyline of Phoenix looms closer. You take a deep breath. "I haven’t been here in a long time."

"Family here?" he asks casually, clearly not realizing the weight of the question.

You shake your head quickly. "No, I just... used to live nearby for a while."

It’s technically the truth. But the memories attached to this city are ones you’d rather not revisit.

Before Hotch can respond, Morgan sticks his neck out from across the aisle. "You lived in Phoenix? How did I not know that?"

"It was a long time ago," you say, deflecting with a practiced ease.

Morgan grins and steers the conversation back to the case, but Hotch lingers for a moment longer, watching you. There’s something about you that doesn’t quite add up, something just out of reach. He’s known you for a year, yet you’re still a puzzle he hasn’t managed to solve. And maybe that’s why he keeps trying.

As the jet touches down, you pull your bag over your shoulder and follow the team out, doing your best to leave the past behind. But Hotch’s eyes stay on you, and for the first time in a long time, you wonder if someone might be able to see through your walls after all.

[noa-nightingale]

Finally had the time and energy to write a list about ep 55 of Pod Watcher (055: We Talk About The Past Year), so here are some things mentioned in that video about the WatcherTV announcement.

Steven said deciding to paywall most of their new content was one of the worst decisions they ever made.

Ryan said they hoped it would make the company more sustainable and they would be able to support their staff members, and that was the primary reason for the decision. He said after realizing what a mistake they had made, they tried to find a better solution that was "more inclusive of all the folks that have helped get us to this point" (i.e. their audience/fans).

Shane acknowledged that people don't react this passionately to things they don't care about.

Shane said some comments went over the line.

Steven said their viewers have to be at the heart of their content.

The shows they make on Watcher are a lot cheaper than the shows they made on Buzzfeed. Buzzfeed Unsolved had more people on staff than their entire company currently has.

Ryan said there was a lot of shame around having made a mistake and having hurt people. He talked about questioning his self-image. He said it took time to grapple with it and that's one of the reasons it has taken so long for them to talk about everything.

They are still figuring out how to make their company and the things they do sustainable.

They took a look at their shows to figure out what is the heart and core of them and what is not necessary (and where costs could be reduced).

Making Travel Season was cheaper than Puppet History and Ghost Files. (And Shane mentioned he saw people weaponizing Steven's ~gold eating~ - I want to mention this specifically because I am still angry about those comments.)

They dropped the "TV caliber content". Steven said this thing that was meant as a positive thing in the beginning became how to reach an imaginary bar that did not actually matter. He says the new bar is how to connect to and inspire their viewers, to be curious and do things they love and care about.

Ryan talked about the ego involved in wanting to push things further and making "TV caliber content" and said that the aftermath of the streamer announcement was an opportunity to refocus on what is actually important.

Steven said he asked around the company what their employees think about Watcher and the word that came up a lot was curiosity - they all care about curiosity and exploration.

Ryan said that sometimes you get misguided and need a smack on the head to get back on track - he said that the reaction to the streamer announcement was the biggest smack on the head he'd ever gotten and that he is grateful for it.

Steven apologized (again) for saying that anyone can afford $6 and that is was insensitive of him. Shane clarified that it was a thing they all released and that there was a lot of scapegoating on Steven.

They did not want to take the Goodbye Youtube down until they had the conversation and without unpacking everything. They want to take it down because it has info in it that is not true anymore. It's not about running away from it.

Steven thanked people for giving constructive criticism.

They talked about the future (very exciting!) and that they looked at what people want to see (which fortunately is also what they themselves want to make).

There will be more Ghost Files and more Mystery Files in 2025.

The channel will lean more into the paranormal, the mystery, the spooky.

Puppet History is coming back!

The food content will be moved to a new home (a new youtube channel). It will still be under Watcher's umbrella.

There will be bonus content on the streamer, including experimental things, new things, exlusive stuff (and Evidence Room lol). The videos will be there one month early and ad-free.

Watcher's discord got migrated over from patreon - if you have access to the streamer, you also have access to the discord.

Kudos to Matty for occasionally interjecting and asking important questions and guiding the conversation.

I tried to keep this short but there was a lot. I still highly recommend watching the entire video. It is not only very introspective but also a fascinating look into the Behind the Scenes at Watcher.

I watched the entire podcast episode again and while I love listening to Steven, Ryan and Shane, it was a bit emotionally draining. Would appreciate a few reblogs. :)

Thanks for reading! <3

[khorazir]

14 years of Sherlock

30th October is my Sherlock Day on which I watched the series for the first time (back in 2010).

By now I’ve produced over a thousand pieces of fanart, over a million words of fanfic, two hand sewn Sherlock coats, many trips to the UK for Sherlock related events including cosplay sessions, there’s a graphic novel coming up … the list goes on, and even though Sherlock and John have recently got some competition from another pair of detectives (who are ghosts ...), I’m not done with them and their world.

I’ve made many friends in the Sherlock fandom, and would like to thank all the brilliant fanfic authors whose works have inspired many of the artworks above (you can find all my fanfic illustrations at my #fanfic tag, and all artworks at my #drawing tag, and those fics I particularly liked at my AO3 bookmarks), my fellow fanartists who constantly make me want to improve because they’re so good, the faithful readers who leave comments and kudos, and all my followers here and on Twitter for their support.

Those who have been following me for a while know the drill. To celebrate, I’m doing a giveaway for my followers on Tumblr, Twitter, Bluesky and Wordpress, running from today until 6th November 2024, 22h GMT:

there will be two winners, picked randomly, who each may choose a Sherlock inspired item from my Storenvy shop

you must be following me and reblog/retweet this post

no giveaway blogs, I will check

I will ship to most places. Please ask if you’re not sure if this applies to your country as well. Some countries are more difficult than others to ship fannish items to, especially if those items have queer content. You must be comfortable with giving me your shipping address and a name that corresponds with whatever ID you use to fetch items from your post office – I’m adding this because I had issues in the past with people giving fandom names and then being unable to pick up their parcels because postal employees rightly insisted on matching names.

Throughout November 2024, there’ll also be FREE SHIPPING FOR ALL ITEMS IN MY SHOP. New Sherlock, Tolkien and Dead Boy Detectives pieces will be added to the shop in early November.

Good luck, and thank you.

[the-golden-comet]

✨Your Wish Is My Command: Available Now on AO3 and Amazon Books! 🧞‍♂️✨

Don’t mind me…just gonna casually drop YWIMC during my the Friday Kiss Tag slot 👀💋✨

✨🌈That’s right!🌈✨You read that correctly: Your Wish Is My Command is available now FOR FREE on Archive Of Our Own! Just one of the many ways I share thanks to the reading, writing and art communities~! ✍️💛

✨ For additional and optional support, a digital version is available on Amazon Kindle eBooks for $5.00 ✨

To give thanks for this Thanksgiving season, I buckled down for “Novelember” and finished all my editing, drafting, and publishing of the long-awaited Your Wish Is My Command! Figured I’d keep in line with the tradition of publishing the day after thanksgiving 😂✨

Thank you all for your support of my project, your tag games, you interactions, fanarts, fanfiction, kudos, and love!! Creating stories gives me so much joy, and sharing them with a wider audience is all the merrier. Between all of my projects, I have received so many kind comments and fanmail that have really touched my heart; To hear how much my stories have inspired creativity within the community is humbling to the point of tears. I cannot overstate my gratitude to everyone here enough: Thank you, from the bottom of my heart 💛✨

Now, sappiness aside: Enjoy the MANY kisses of Noah and Ali for yourself, and be sure to leave me kudos and a comment on AO3 and Tumblr telling me how you liked it! I’ll be on my mandatory 2 week writing break (to avoid burnout), but I’ll be around to answer asks and get your reactions 💛💫✨

As always, I will make all of my stories available for free on AO3, but if you want to support me further you can buy a digital copy of my books! ✨

Reblog this post to spread the word of YWIMC’s Release, and Happy Reading! 💫

✨👇Tag list for writing snippets below. DM me if you’d like to be added 👇✨

Tag List for writing tidbits (lmk if you want + or -) 🧞‍♂️✨

@autism-purgatory , @jev-urisk , @talesofsorrowandofruin , @castiels-favorite-hunter , @wyked-ao3 ,

@glasshouses-and-stones , @alinacapellabooks , @gioiaalbanoart , @tragedycoded , @deanwax ,

@dyrewrites , @honeybewrites , @drchenquill , @paeliae-occasionally , @lychhiker-writes ,

@thatuselesshuman , @kaylinalexanderbooks , @phynewrites , @zackprincebooks , @fantasy-things-and-such ,

@finickyfelix , @billybatsonmylove , @madi-konrad , @houseplantblank , @far-cry-from-finality ,

@froggy-pposto , @fractured-shield , @avaseofpeonies , @topazadine , @thecoolerlucky ,

@theaistired , @somethingclevermahogony , @noxxytocin , @the-inkwell-variable , @seastarblue ,

@leahnardo-da-veggie , @addicted2coke-theothercoke , @illarian-rambling , @mysticstarlightduck , @the-letterbox-archives ,

@ominous-feychild , @saturnine-saturneight , @words-after-midnight , @hemlocks-grove , @cowboybrunch ,

@yourpenpaldee , @moltenwrites , @pixies-love-envy , @davycoquette , @writeahurricane ,

@nczaversnick , @greenfinchwriter , @oliolioxenfreewrites , @lavender-gloom , @smellyrottentrees ,

@aintgonnatakethis , @thecomfywriter , @pluppsauthor , @michellekarnold , @flurrysahin ,

@authorcoledipalo , @jadeglas , @spookyceph , @astramachina , @48lexr ,

@inseasofgreen , @agirlandherquill , @saebasanart , @leatafandom , @justabigoldnerd ,

@pippinoftheshire , @just-emis-blog, @aalinaaaaa , @badscientist , @dearunreliablenarrator ,

@worlds-tallest-fairy , @rhikasa , @eccaiia , @theink-stainedfolk , @theverumproject ,

@theprissythumbelina , @riveriafalll , @revenancy , @inadequatecowboy , @amielbjacobs ,

@patternwelded-quill , @sugarchains , @garthcelyn , @prettytothink-so , @leahpardo-pa-potato ,

@winvyre , @speaknowbuckley , @lamuradex , @wintherlywords , @sharkblizzardblogs ,

@dragoninatrenchcoat , @darekasama , @recklessgirl56 , @kokoass , @ziote ,

@paletteofseaglass , @basketcase1880 , @sableglass , @halfbakedspuds , @notwritinganyflufftoday ,

@twopercentboy , @mxtansy , @menaceofmemory , @unfilteredmoonchild , @blerdsong ,

@iamwhimsy , @beansmakesthings , @birdycage , @tiagems , @narkaholic ,

@irolynn , @petitprincess1 , @macinchiz , @owlsandwich , @stephtuckerauthor,

@sarandipitywrites , @mauvecatfic , @finchwrites , @aurumni-writes , @uiraya ,

@justanotherchangeling , @ahopelessnecromantic , @ryns-ramblings , @oleanderbailey , @365runesofthesystem ,

@vesanal ,

[heartstringsduet]

I published around 300k worth of fic this year. Which is…crazy. I also have around 150k that I wrote and haven’t published yet, which is even crazier. I’m so grateful to have had the time to heal and writing and drawing helped a lot with that. As did everyone reading these, leaving a kudo or a comment. I try to write for myself but also who am I kidding, I write for others too, so thanks if you had time to go on one of my journeys with me. I’m so inspired by all of you, honestly! Thank you! 🎉

🚨 First Aid (161 k) - AU / Hurt Comfort /

NYC AU of the both of them meeting shaped by different circumstances, that force them to lie to each other.

⛓️ In this sweet surrender (29 k) - BDSM & Kink Exploration

A vacation is what both of them need to recalibrate after tragedy and as with everything, Carlos is prepared. The bags are packed, his mind filled with every scenario of how to unravel TK completely within three days.

🥄 2AM, Kitchen Floor (23 k) - Angst - 

To TK, the kitchen is a place of joint cooking with his new boyfriend, his friends' laughter, and most of all - dread. - tw: Eating Disorder

🎉 Changed For Good (12 k +) - TK Strand centric short stories

Thirty stories of how TK's life left its marks. Tbc.

⚾ Win or Lose (8 k) - BDSM  PWP 

What if the softball game ended with nothing but TK receiving his rightful reward for winning? What if Carlos ever so slightly tweaked his plans?

👕 It's in the fabric  (2 k) - Fluff

Carlos and TK share a single powder blue sweater. It doesn't go unnoticed.

♥️ You're the cause of celebration (5 k)  - Fluff

Valentine’s Day is cursed for them. Good thing they celebrate February 20th from now on.

⛓ In grief and lamentation (11 k)  - BDSM / Grieving / 3x08

The death of his mother rips the floor out from under TK’s feet. Carlos tries to break his fall, leaning more into their dynamic to guide TK to a safer landing.

🦵🏼 What if he's written 'mine' on my upper thigh? (6 k) - PWP Carlos wears shorts so of course TK needs to sink his teeth into his beautiful thighs and worship every inch of his skin.

🔥 More Than That (4 k) - PWP Carlos and his breeding kink. That’s the story.

📖 In your own words (12 k) - BDSM - Grief and Kink Exploration

Ever since TK's mother died, the fantasies Carlos had allowed to roam free in the past months seem inappropriate. Ever since his mother died, TK struggles to let go and give himself to pleasure. 

🎶 Your shotgun rider 'til the day I die (4 k) - Fluff

Carlos joins his husband for the concert of his life.

🍬 Blink and You'll Miss It (3 k) - 5x01 Coda

A night spent at the station, to try and get closer to finding his father's killer. A night steeped in the compromises and sacrifices a marriage entails.

⚠️ Eyes Wide Shut (3 k) - 5x03 Coda

Carlos always had a sixth sense when it came to TK. But this time, nothing could have happened. Everything was fine.

😎 The Weight of Your Name (2 k) - Undercover AU / Angst

“My real name is Carlos Reyes,” Diego says, voice breathy and wet against TK’s cheekbone. TK stops struggling. “I love you. No matter what, that has never been a lie.”

To Come 2025:

A Few Moons Ago (100 k+) - Werewolf AU

3AM (planned) - Sequel to 2AM 

This Line Of Work - (20 k+) Angsty Canon Alternative Let Me Part 9 & 10

Glee Club AU (4 k+)

Fantasy Soulmate AU (30 k+)

AU Collab I’ll tease you with but won’t share just yet

Tagging some peeps (back): @paperstorm @lemonlyman-dotcom @alrightbuckaroo @ladytessa74

@freneticfloetry @never-blooms @carlos-in-glasses @bonheur-cafe

@welcometololaland @rmd-writes @eclectic-sassycoweyes @liminalmemories21

@emsprovisions @sapphic--kiwi @pameluke @everlastingday @reyesstrand

@strandnreyes @butchreyes @goodways @lightningboltreader @tellmegoodbye

@literateowl @carlossreaders @henrygrass @honeybee-taskforce

@theghostofashton @orchidscript @nisbanisba @irispurpurea

@decafdino

[fuckyeahlabynight]

Fang Fest 2024

EDIT: Apologies! The first image I made for this had the date wrong. it's fixed now, so please reblog this version. Thank you!

Hello Tumblr Vamily! first of all, thank you to those who participated in the Fang Fest poll(s) I posted. I read all your tags and comments and I decided to go ahead with this year's Vampire the Masquerade Fang Fest!

This year’s theme is “Tarot.” These prompts are intended to inspire fanart, fanfic, and other pieces of fanwork. Anything you wish to create and share with the vamily is very greatly appreciated!

The Fang Fest will run from June 1 - 22, 2024.

Each day, starting with The Fool on June 1 and finishing with The World on June 22, post whatever fan work you've made inspired by the Tarot card prompt (eg. art, fic, gifs, poetry, music playlists, mood boards, whatever). Please include the hashtag #vtmfangfest24 so they can all be collected here. I know there are a lot of prompts this year compared to past years, and if you can't think of anything for a particular prompt, or are otherwise unable to finish, it's perfectly fine to skip it.

Those who are not taking part in making fan work are encouraged to like, comment on, give kudos, and share their favourites! Collaboration is also encouraged, so reach out to your fellow Kindred and see what you can come up with!

Another list of the prompts and their general meanings will be available under the cut. See y'all in June!

The Fool Innocence, spontaneity, free spirits, new beginnings, (reversed) recklessness, taking foolish risks, being held back.

The Magician Being resourceful, inspiration, manifesting plans, (reversed) poor planning, manipulation.

The High Priestess Intuition, divine femininity, sacred knowledge, (reversed) keeping secrets, withdrawing, being silent when your voice should be heard.

The Empress Femininity, beauty, abundance, (reversed) over-reliance on others, suffering creative block.

The Emperor Authority, father figures, structure, (reversed) domination, excessive control, lack of discipline.

The Hierophant Spiritual wisdom and beliefs, traditions, established institutions, (reversed) freedom and challenging the status quo.

The Lovers Love, harmony, relationships (romantic or otherwise, but usually romantic), your values aligning with others', (reversed) disharmony, arguments, hatred.

The Chariot Taking action, success, willpower, being in control, (reversed) lack of direction, opposition.

Strength Courage, compassion, persuasion, (reversed) self-doubt, low energy.

The Hermit Soul-searching, introspection, being alone in a positive way, (reversed) unwanted isolation, withdrawing, loneliness.

Wheel of Fortune Karma, good luck, destiny, a turning point in your life, (reversed) bad luck, resistance to change, cycles breaking.

Justice Fairness, truth, cause and effect, (reversed) unfairness, not taking accountability, dishonesty.

The Hanged Man Surrendering, letting go, considering new perspectives, (reversed) stalling, delays, indecision.

Death Endings, unstoppable change, transformation, (reversed) resistance to change, unwanted purging.

Temperance Balance, moderation, patience, (reversed) imbalance, excess, needing self-care.

The Devil Addiction, who you are when no-one is watching, sexuality, (reversed) releasing limiting beliefs, exploring your dark side safely.

The Tower Sudden change, chaos, upheaval, (reversed) personal transformation, averting disaster.

The Star Hope, faith, purpose, renewal, (reversed) despair, losing faith, disconnection.

The Moon Illusions, anxiety, intuition, (reversed) letting go of fears and repressed emotions, inner confusion.

The Sun Positivity, fun, warmth, success, (reversed) disappointment, toxic positivity, overly optimistic.

Judgement Rebirth, retribution, (reversed) self-doubts, ignoring opportunities.

The World Completion, accomplishments, travel, (reversed) short-cuts, delays, not yet finding closure.

[copper-16]

Chapter 8 has been posted - but before everyone goes to read, a little bit of an announcement on my end:

This is going to be my last longer Mapi/Ingrid story, and probably the end of me being super active/posting on ao3 and tumblr. I might write the occasional story here and there, but writing is not bringing me the same joy it once was and I want to dedicate my time to other things. I’ll still be around reading on ao3 and somewhat on Tumblr, but I just won’t be posting a whole ton on either. I’ve been so incredibly lucky to get to know all of you guys on here, and to receive so much love for my work. It means the absolute world to me - and thank you all so much for welcoming me into this little community so wonderfully! I hope the stories I wrote were able to bring just a little bit of happiness when you guys needed it (even if I constantly left everyone on cliffhangers - I truly am sorry about that).

The rest of this is long, and you don't have to read it if you don't want to, you can just go ahead to the story now if you would like. I'm not known for my ability to keep concise, that is for certain. If brevity is the soul of wit - perhaps we know why my stories aren't very funny!

I’ve especially enjoyed joining tumblr and really finding a little community here. Getting to interact with so many people, both those who read my works and those who don’t, has been such a joy for me. I love getting to hear when people like the things I've written, even if it touches them in a small way. I love getting to interact with so many brilliant minds and am forever in awe of how much amazing talent there is in this little corner of the internet! I've made some incredible friends from getting to be on here, and it makes me so happy to have a little community of people I love. Thank you guys for letting me have space here even if I don’t write reader works or know how this app works most of the time.

I started writing seriously in September 2022 and I can't tell you how much joy it has brought me in the last two years. As someone who doesn't enjoy the college degree they are currently getting, this was such a fun creative outlet for me. It was so cool to have this blank canvas to work with, to weave things together, especially as I began to write longer stories. Writing was a place to destress for me and interact with other people who loved football as I was coming to love it. Every single kudos, comment, and bookmark meant so much to me. Even when it was something silly like someone dubbing the 'Copper Monologue,' it made me feel so seen. Someone cared enough to read enough of my works to pick out the fact that I do that? Absolutely mind blowing to me. It's crazy to hear that people cared about the silly little stories I wrote. When someone told me that I was one of the things to help inspire them to write their own stuff - I think I properly sobbed. It meant more to me than anything has in this entire world, and it still does! Writing has helped me to process, it's helped me to grow, it's helped me learn to identify my emotions and struggles and think through my own thought processes. I hope that maybe for someone out there, it could help them do that as well. It's a little strange for me not to want to do that anymore. Writing this last story solidified to me that for the most part it was time to be done, and HDITA was more of a goodbye than anything else. But even with that, it feels strange not to be thinking of my next idea, thinking of how I am going to create characters and relationships and plot lines.

I think for me right now, I'm just excited to be myself. Maybe this vessel of writing was what I needed to get myself through the last two years. I wrote la princesa when I was at my absolute worst in life, and as I've grown and matured as a person, I like to think that my writing has. I no longer find myself in a place where it fills a huge void in my own life that I once needed.

I've grown a lot as a writer these few years (those who read my earlier works will understand), and I'm excited to one day come back to it, maybe in a different sphere. I love the idea now of writing a real book. It always terrified me before - I didn't know where I would start or if I would be horrible at it. But you all have given me the confidence that maybe at least one person would like it, and maybe that's enough of a reason to try. So thank you all for holding my hand and encouraging me. I hope that if nothing else, everyone remembers that a little bit of kindness on here or ao3 or anywhere on the internet costs nothing, and yet can go a long way.

It did for me.

But enough of my sappy rambling, please enjoy this last chapter of mine. I hope it brings you as much joy as it brought me when I was writing it. Love you all so so much!

Chapter 8 of How Do I Trust Again?

[amalgamateofficial]

Hey, y'all. DoctorHaifisch, the author of the Danganronpa V3 fanfic Amalgamate here <3

Some of you might've already seen the above video on my TikTok page, but I wanted this thank you message to reach as many Amalgamate fans as possible. I only found out about the fic having the 4th most hits of any DRV3 fic on AO3 a few days ago, and when I was told about it, I couldn't believe it. I went to AO3 to confirm, and that's when I found out about Amalgamate also being #7 in kudos, #4 in bookmarks, and #3 in comments. I'm still completely shocked because I truly didn't realize Amalgamate had reached such a level of notoriety in the DRV3 fanfic community

So, I just want to say thank you to everyone who reads and enjoys Amalgamate. Whether you've only read some of it, read all of it, reread it, left kudos, left comments, or even just sent happy thoughts in the fic's direction, I appreciate you all so much. 2 1/2 years ago, I posted chapter 1 of Amalgamate under the assumption that hardly anyone would even read it, and now there's an audio project, fanart, fan comics, dubs, songs, animatics, fics inspired by Amalgamate, and so much more. It still blows my mind, and not for one second do I ever take any of it for granted.

So truly, from the bottom of my heart, thank you all so much <333

Amalgamate changed my life for the better, and I'm so glad it had such a huge impact on so many you too <3

-- DoctorHaifisch

[silenzahra]

🌼 A lonely flower 🌼

It turns out today is a very special someone's birthday... 🤭🎂

... Sooo here's my present for my beloved bestie! 😄 Hope you like it, my dear @bberetd, and I'm wishing you the happiest of birthdays! 🥳🎂🎈👏💖

I came up with the idea for this Luaisy fic thanks to two sources of inspiration. The first one was this song that I adore so much and that, to this day, still speaks to me:

Here's the translation and here are my thoughts about it that ended up giving birth to this story.

And the other thing that was crucial for this fic to come to life was your own Luaisy story, Miraculous shelter, as I thought it worked perfectly well as some sort of follow-up for it. And thus I decided I wanted to surprise you with it, and what better day than today! 🥰 I sincerely hope you'll enjoy it, my dear bestie 🫂💖

As usual I'm posting this on both AO3 and Tumblr! You'll find nods to your story as well as some of my works such as Biggest fear and my post Luigi serenades Daisy. And also a little bit of @vulpixfairy1985's story A moment together as it's becoming customary for me 🤭

Speaking of which, I would like to especially thank my big sister @vulpixfairy1985 as well as @megamagimugi and @itsavee4117 for keeping the secret for so long, and if you're interested in reading this story, I sincerely hope you'll enjoy it as well! 🥰

@peaches2217 @pepperycar @kelbreyworshipper @teegeeteegee @dragon-fly34 @kimasousparky @artycomicfangirl @mikibaby94 @smokszyvverstar @eleventhhourfactor Hope it's okay that I tag you too in case you'd like to read this fic, but of course it's more than fine if you aren't!

✨ AO3 LINK ✨

(I don't know why, but AO3 links aren't working on Tumblr today, or perhaps it's just me lol. I'll edit the post as soon as it's fixed).

I really hope you enjoy, and as always, likes, kudos, reblogs and comments on either site are more than welcome 💖

🌼 A lonely flower 🌼

When Luigi arrives in Sarasaland to, once again, surprise his beloved princess, whom he misses deeply, he did not expect at all what he was going to find.

He thought it would be almost like the first time he came to visit her unannounced. He thought that, perhaps, he’d find her overwhelmed, maybe even stressed, the light in her eyes, always as bright as a star, dulled by the amount of work that her royal duties force her to do and which, for her, implies a greater effort than for others. Her tireless energy pushes her to be always active, always moving, but her responsibilities as future empress of Sarasaland require that she spends a lot of time sitting still and concentrating on the same task.

It's too much for her.

Still, never in a million years would Luigi have expected to find his vivacious and always cheerful girlfriend crying alone.

For a few moments, Luigi stands in the doorway, paralyzed, his fist inches from the wood, ready to knock. The ajar door gives him a glimpse inside of Daisy, sitting on her bed, shrinking in on herself and trembling slightly, her crown forgotten on the bedside table. Her muffled sobs are like daggers stabbing deep into Luigi's soul, and he’s torn between keeping silent so as not to startle her or rushing to her side and hugging her with all his might. The last thing he wants is to scare her, or to feel like he’s meddling where he’s not wanted, but his most primal instinct, that which is overflowing with love for his Fiore, screams at him to run and allow her to find refuge in his arms.

In the end, as he watches Daisy, with her back to him, cover her face with her hands to try to silence her crying, Luigi decides on an intermediate option. He finally knocks his fist against the door gently as he steps into the room, not without a certain shyness.

“Knock, knock,” he murmurs as he does so, smiling an unsure smile. “May I?”

Despite his attempts not to make too much noise, Luigi witnesses Daisy's slight startle. He sees her clasp her hands against her face and hears her faintly hiccup, and he stands still until she mumbles a soft “Come in.” Despite this, Luigi enters the room slowly, insecurity bubbling in his chest. What if he's making a mistake? What if what Daisy needs is to be alone? What if he is, in effect, meddling where he's not called?

When he's halfway between the door and Daisy's bed, she finally turns to him. Unwillingly, Luigi stops in his tracks as he’s once again paralyzed by the immense sadness dancing in her beautiful blue eyes, reddened from crying, some traces of which still remain on her freckled cheeks. Even so, Daisy tries to mask it all with a smile and, seeing him stop, she gets up to be the one to close the distance between them.

“Sweetie,” she exclaims, and there’s a sincere joy in her voice, but Luigi can perfectly discern the absence of his girlfriend’s characteristic effusiveness that always shines in her tone when she addresses him. “You're here!”

She stretches out her arms to him and Luigi does the same by instinct, clasping in his fingers the hands of his brave princess, who squeezes him back even tighter. Maybe even with a subtle hint of desperation, Luigi would say. He watches her silently, worried, and notices how Daisy tries even harder to hide the fact that, just a few seconds ago, she was crying.

“How come you're here?” she asks, giving him a smile that doesn't reach her eyes.

“I-I wanted to... surprise you,” Luigi finally says.

He tries to return her smile, but he’s sure that the only thing he’s managed to compose is a twisted and strange grimace.

“Well, you did,” she replies, letting out a chuckle that, despite not sounding fake, doesn't sound entirely authentic either.

It doesn't sound like Daisy.

“Did you bring cake today, too?” she asks before he can add anything.

Luigi takes a few seconds too long to register the information and try to give her an answer.

“N-no, I...”

He blinks, trying hard to focus, and responds as his mind tries to come up with the right way to address the issue Daisy is trying to hide.

“Actually today I was thinking... maybe we could go for a walk? I brought the ukulele.”

“Perfect!”

Daisy lets go and claps her hands in a way that feels somewhat more enthusiastic than usual. Playfully, she slips a hand under Luigi’s hat and ruffles his hair without looking him in the eye as she begins to turn her body to walk towards the door. Luigi, ignoring the fact that his cap is about to fall off, then understands that she’s about to leave without further ado, to continue pretending that she’s fine, that nothing is wrong. For a second he doubts whether he should say something or whether, perhaps, what Daisy needs is a distraction. To stop thinking about whatever has happened and have a nice time to help her cheer up.

But Luigi can't bear the thought that when it's time to say goodbye and his beloved girlfriend is alone again, she'll burst into tears once more and he won't be there to comfort her. From his own experience, he knows that the best thing to do is always to let it all out and keep nothing inside. It's what always works for him, and although he sometimes has a hard time getting Mario to open up, he knows that, like him, his brother also feels much better after expressing his feelings to him.

He may have even more work ahead of him with Daisy than with Mario, but that doesn't mean he's going to give up. He never would. Not with his brother, and not with his girlfriend.

So, with determination and the hat misplaced on his head, Luigi bends down to take his princess's hand gently, thus making her slow down and turn to him again.

“Daisy,” he says, his voice filled with concern, and his brow furrows slightly as he adds in a whisper, “Are you all right?”

For a few seconds, Daisy is silent and only holds his gaze, blue against blue. Luigi waits, ever patient, never pressuring her, but it’s not too long before, in front of his eyes, the beautiful face of his beloved princess crumbles completely.

Luigi's hand suddenly finds itself grasping at air, as Daisy, in one swift movement, brings both hands to her face to hide from him. Luigi can practically touch his fingers to the visible effort she’s making to hold back a sob, which, however, ends up bursting from her mouth, sounding muffled against her palms, though just as heartbreaking.

As soon as he notices Daisy's legs begin to buckle, Luigi rushes to wrap his arms around her and holds her tightly, squeezing her steadily as she falls and letting himself fall with her. Due to the strength of their embrace and the fact that the princess is cowering on herself, there’s a brief moment when Luigi's hat also covers Daisy's auburn head a little, before he removes it altogether and drops it haphazardly, more concerned about his Fiore than his tousled hair.

When their knees reach the ground, Luigi gently places a hand on Daisy's shoulder to pull her to him, and she, in tears, does not resist and lies on his chest. Luigi pulls her close and strokes her hair tenderly, his arms around her like a shield meant to protect her from any harm and create a safe, warm haven only for her.

His heart breaks with every sob that escapes Daisy's system, with every hiccup she emits, with every tear that wells up in her eyes. Luigi holds her tightly as she cries disconsolately in his arms, his left hand rubbing her back slowly, his right hand stroking her hair softly. His beloved princess seems so broken that he can't help but wonder... how could he not have seen this before? How has he been so blind as to not see it coming? Is he such a bad boyfriend that he’s incapable of realizing that his adored Fiore is suffering right in front of his eyes?

The ache in his chest increases, now spiced with guilt, and he deposits a soft kiss on his princess' hair as he notices that a few furtive tears start to flood his eyes. Daisy then pulls a hand away from her face and clutches the fabric of his overalls in her fingers, and the desperation in the gesture, in her voice overwhelmed by grief, in the side of her face that is now visible if he looks down, causes Luigi to squeeze his eyelids tightly and the tears to begin sliding down his cheeks. Daisy's pain is his pain.

She moves the hand she was holding over her face so that it now covers only her eyes. Luigi is then able to place his lips on her forehead in an attempt to comfort her and presses them gently for a few seconds to try to convey calm. His kiss is wet, damp from his own sadness, but he won't let that stop him. Daisy, his Daisy, his favorite flower in this and all universes, needs him, and Luigi is not going to fail her.

For several minutes, the two remain on the floor of the princess' room. Luigi doesn't relax his grip on his girlfriend for a moment, cradling her in his arms with all his affection, his fingers slowly and delicately running through her auburn, messy hair. Daisy, her head pressed to his chest, continues to hide her eyes with one hand while clutching his overalls with the other. She convulses in Luigi's arms from crying, and he, silently wailing, goes on kissing her forehead every few seconds, keeping his lips on her tanned skin for a little longer each time.

His thoughts wander in his head, intermingled with a myriad of feelings that imprison his heart like an ever-tightening claw. Daisy, his Fiore, his sassy, giggly princess, is suffering for something Luigi is not even able to suspect. She, who’s always been there for him, who has often comforted him, who on more than one occasion has followed him with her clothes on her back just to make sure he was all right. She, who has been the umbrella he needed when the downpour in his eyes flowed like a salty river. She, who has stayed by his side when everyone else, always with the exception of Mario, had left, and reminded him of who he is even when he himself had forgotten, encouraging him to wave his flag with pride.

She, who has made a huge place in his heart with all the love and adoration she has for him. She, who has taken over every inch of his body with her overwhelming personality and sparkling energy. She, who pronounces his name as if she were reciting poetry. She, who always makes him feel as if time has stopped every time they are in the same room.

She, who has taken over Luigi's life so much and has become so present in it that it's as if she were hung in every strand of his hair.

She, Daisy, his Fiore... she has been all this time suffering in silence and masking her pain so as not to worry him. Neither he nor his friends, of course. She has kept it all to herself and has only given it free rein once she was alone.

Probably, if Luigi hadn't caught her crying, who knows how much longer she would have kept it up. Maybe, in fact, he’d never have found out. Maybe that's the reason why Luigi didn't need to insist as he does with Mario: because, plain and simple, Daisy couldn't take it anymore.

Luigi sighs as he continues to hug her. And to think that he’s shown up at her home by surprise because the balloons he was giving to a Toad reminded him of her... One was green, his favorite color, and the other one was shiny gold. Exactly like the balloons that had made them float on that magical night when his brother took him to Sarasaland in his Odyssey ship so that he and Daisy could share an enchanting moment together. Seeing those colors blending together as the Toad happily drifted away with his balloons in hand made Luigi experience a sense of suffocating anguish that, as he well knew, could only be cured if he was fortunate enough to behold his beautiful Fiore in front of him once more.

And he’s been able to do so, yes... but the feeling of anguish has only increased in his chest as he found her submerged in such a state of extreme sadness.

He wouldn’t be at all surprised if his princess hated him. He’s been an absolutely horrible and despicable boyfriend. He’s remained oblivious to her pain and hasn’t been able to reciprocate her as she deserves. He’s certainly earned it in spades that Daisy doesn't want to be with him anymore, that she doesn't want to see him again, that she doesn't want to share one more measly second by his side. He’s been completely blind and has failed to measure up.

However, as long as she needs him, he will remain by her side.

Luigi has no idea how much time has passed when he finally notices that the intensity of his girlfriend's sobs begins to subside. Even though the guilt is still tormenting him inside, he feels relief fill him as well, like little gusts of air that grant him a brief respite. Of course he wishes Daisy would let it all out and let nothing stay inside, but that doesn't stop Luigi himself from suffering unspeakably as he holds his broken Fiore in his arms.

Still, he doesn't move. He allows Daisy to catch her breath little by little, at her own pace, and not only does he not alter his position, but he gently presses her head to his chest in a burst of affection. Her hair brushes his ear and tickles him, and Luigi, fearing that this is the last time he’ll have the chance to do so, closes his eyes to enjoy the sensation. He notices that Daisy relaxes a little the fingers with which she still holds his overalls at chest level and is pleasantly surprised when the princess finally takes her other hand away from her face and reaches out to put her arm around his back, so that she’s now hugging him too. Luigi feels his heart calm down somewhat and pulls her a little closer, placing a kiss on the crown of her head. He can't help but smile through his tears when Daisy snuggles a little more against him, seeking the warmth of his embrace, which he doesn't hesitate to bestow on her.

A few more seconds go by in complete silence, calming in each other's arms, until Daisy's voice emerges, shy and muffled.

“I'm sorry,” she mumbles, sounding almost embarrassed.

In response, Luigi kisses her hair again as he holds her tightly.

“There's nothing to be sorry about, Fiore,” he whispers, his voice laden with gentleness.

Daisy squeezes him a little tighter, rubbing her cheek against his chest, as if seeking a more comfortable position, and sighs. Her arm slowly drops from her overalls and passes under his, so that Luigi now feels both of his girlfriend's hands on his back.

“I didn't want you to see me like this,” Daisy confesses in a whisper.

Luigi understands. Even though he’s unable to hold back his emotions, he only feels comfortable expressing them in front of three people, and Daisy is one of them. She makes him feel confident and self-assured in a way he’s never felt with anyone but his brother, though in a different way, of course.

He never hesitates to open up to her when he needs to, because Daisy makes him feel secure, safe and at ease. Maybe... she can open up to him too? Maybe he can make her feel safe too?

Or maybe it's already too late?

“Do you... want to... talk about it?” he offers, unsure.

His hand wavers slightly on her hair as soon as he feels her tensing in his arms. Slowly, Daisy sits up, pulling away from him, though she doesn't quite break contact: as their arms slide down each other's backs and they face each other, she reaches for his hand.

When their fingers meet, they squeeze as if their lives were at stake.

Luigi notices the way Daisy averts her gaze as she purses her lips. She seems to be searching for the right words to start talking. Wanting to comfort her and show her that he’s there for her, ready to listen, Luigi places his other hand on his princess's cheek and gently caresses it, sliding his thumb over her tanned skin to erase the traces of crying and to brush the constellation of freckles that dot her beautiful face. Daisy closes her eyes at the touch and leans her head into his palm, taking a deep breath.

“It's just...” she murmurs, interrupting herself to sigh as she rubs her arm with her other hand. “It's really silly...”

“Daisy.” Luigi gently turns her face so he can look into her regret-laden eyes. “If it makes you cry like that, it's not silly at all.”

His girlfriend's lips pucker slightly before she composes a weak smile, and she pulls her hand away from her arm to rest it on Luigi's, who continues to caress her face with gentleness. He smiles at her too, wanting to convey so much to her in that simple gesture that he doubts he can succeed.

“Luigi, I...” Daisy begins to say and is unable to hold back another sigh. “I feel lonely.”

The smile fades from Luigi's mouth at the simplicity with which she says it. He freezes inside as he understands it all, as he understands the true meaning behind Daisy's crying, behind her words, behind her sadness.

But, before he can take it all in, she continues:

“It's just that...” She shakes her head, distressed. “It's nobody's fault, but even though I go to visit you in the Mushroom Kingdom so often, in the end I always have to come back to Sarasaland. And, yes, I have friends here too,” she hastens to clarify, “but I don't have as close a relationship with any of them as I do with you. It's not the same, you know?”

Oh, yes, Luigi knows. Throughout his life he’s met a lot of people, but with none of them he has been able to establish such a deep connection as the ones he has with his beloved brother Mario, his dear friend Peach and his adored princess Daisy. The three of them are the essential pillars of his life, those who know him best and most deeply, and every time he has to be apart from them, especially his brother or his girlfriend, he suffers to such a degree that anxiety takes over his heart. Exactly as it happened to him the day before.

Still, he lives with Mario. He sees Peach every day. They spend a lot of time together, and also with Toad, and Toadette, and Yoshi, and all the others, and when Daisy has a chance to join them, the joy that brims over him is so great that Luigi feels on top of the highest cloud.

But he had never considered that, while he despairs with every second he has to be separated from his beloved princess, in the end it is she who is the most isolated. She’s not the only one who doesn’t reside in the Mushroom Kingdom, true, but Sarasaland is the farthest away from it. The links between the two countries are complicated and convoluted, needing to use various pipes to get from one place to another, and there’s even a section of the way that must be done by train. It’s never easy or quick for Daisy to visit her friends, which is why she often stays for several days at Peach's castle.

And Luigi suddenly realizes that, perhaps, behind these long stays lies more than just the complexity of getting to the Mushroom Kingdom from Sarasaland.

Perhaps it hides Daisy's need to be accompanied, to spend as much time as possible with her friends, to feel them close and not find herself alone so often. Perhaps it hides a deep desire to be part of a whole, to nurture the connection she shares with the most important people in her life, to try to shake off the feeling of being confined and secluded in her beautiful but distant home.

Unwillingly, Luigi's mind begins to wander in search of possible solutions to soothe his girlfriend's pain and prevent her from ever feeling this way again.

“Of course, this doesn't mean that I blame anyone,” Daisy says suddenly, looking at him worriedly. “It's just a situation that's happened and that's it, and at the end of the day we all have our responsibilities. It's just...” she sighs again, her expression full of dejection. “I can't help feeling this way.”

Luigi watches her silently for a few seconds, saddened to see her so spiritless. He gently squeezes her hand and reaches for the other, grabbing her fingers gently to bring them to his mouth and place a soft kiss on them. Daisy looks up at him as she feels his lips graze her skin, and Luigi gives a weak smile in an attempt to comfort her.

“I understand, Fiore,” he says sincerely. “I understand why you feel this way in these hard circumstances, and I'm sure our friends would understand too. I...” This time it is he who sighs, and he blushes slightly as he admits: “The truth is that I had never taken a moment to think about it, and I apologize for that. I'm really sorry I didn't see it before, Daisy.”

The eyes of his princess are covered with tenderness at the frankness that oozes from each of Luigi's words, and this time she’s the one who gives him a gentle squeeze on his fingers. Only her sweet smile and the infinite affection that emanates from her blue gaze are enough to somewhat relieve the guilt that has clung to Luigi's heart.

“But I'm here now,” he adds, squeezing his hands. “And I hope I can help you find a solution so that this doesn't happen again.”

Daisy's smile becomes sad and even a little bitter.

“Luigi, I...” She remains silent for a few seconds trying to find the right words. “I thank you from the bottom of my heart, but I’m well aware that there’s no solution to this problem. I just have to... learn to live with it,” she concludes, shrugging in resignation. “Learn to live with the fact that Sarasaland, my beautiful and beloved home, is... lonely. And that's it.”

Luigi can't help but raise an eyebrow. It's not at all like Daisy to give up. He stares at her for a few moments, confusion painted on his face, but, before he can find something to say, Daisy adds:

“I admit that at times I’ve considered... leaving.”

“Leaving?” Luigi repeats, puzzled.

“Sarasaland” she explains, smiling with remorse. “Go live in the Mushroom Kingdom, or Tostarena, or even the Beanbean Kingdom. Any of those places would bring me closer to all of you. But...” she adds, sighing again, her tone full of melancholy. “I could never leave Sarasaland. It’s not only my home, but also my empire. Someday I’ll rule over its four kingdoms, and I love each of them and their different cultures with all my heart. Anyway,” she continues after a few seconds of silence, and gives him a rueful smile. “I suppose I’ll always be at a great crossroads. But honestly, being aware of it doesn't make it any easier.”

She ducks her head, exhaling for the umpteenth time. Everything in her gestures, in her expression, in her posture, screams how dejected she really feels, and Luigi just looks at her wordlessly. What can he add to what his Fiore has just confessed to him? He would never have imagined that this desire was buried deep in the heart of his princess, but he can't say he blames her. After all, isn't he incapable of going more than a whole day without seeing Mario? What must it be like for her to go for weeks at a time without being able to see all of her friends?

Luigi feels a physical pain in his chest just thinking about it.

“Besides,” Daisy goes on after a few seconds in which Luigi hasn't been able to find anything he can say to comfort her, “honey, while I appreciate your desire to help me, it's not your job to solve my problems.” She caresses his cheek with affection and Luigi can read in her eyes that she really is grateful. “It wouldn't be a healthy relationship if I expected that from you.”

“I know,” Luigi assures her, “but it is my job to be here for you, Daisy. I know...” he adds, shame flooding his insides, “I've been a terrible boyfriend not realizing sooner that you were in pain...”

“Luigi, honey,” Daisy interrupts him, gently placing her finger on his lips. “You haven't been. I didn't want you to see me like this, remember? You and I...” As she lowers her hand, another sigh escapes her mouth. “We don't spend enough time together. And when I'm with you, I want to make the most of every second. I didn't want to... waste it like this.”

“Daisy, il mio bellissimo Fiore...”

Luigi cups her face in his hands and leans towards her, yearning owning his every move. Daisy's warm forehead soon meets his, and he closes his eyes for a few seconds as he soaks in the touch, trying to hold on to it to calm his frantic thoughts. Daisy is silent and rests her hands on his arms, and Luigi clutches desperately at every point where his body and his princess' are touching, however lightly, to try to mitigate the grief that grips his soul.

“It's not a waste,” he says after a few seconds, whispering and panting slightly,. “It never is, I promise. It's... it's a lesson I've struggled to learn, but expressing how we truly feel and asking for help is never a waste, much less a weakness.”

He feels how Daisy clings to his arms a little tighter, and when he opens his eyes, he notices that she’s pursing her lips in a clear attempt not to burst into tears again.

“Luigi, I...” she mumbles in a strangled voice, “I don't want to be a burden...”

Luigi's heart shrinks in his chest.

“You're not!” he assures her, running his thumbs over her cheeks and pressing his forehead harder against hers. “Daisy, you're my girlfriend and I... I adore you.”

His confession causes Daisy's eyelids to flutter open, and Luigi pulls away from her so he can look into her eyes. He finds them shimmering with tears about to be shed, and though he, too, feels shaken and broken inside, he tries hard to smile. His knees hurt, but he pays them no heed.

“Daisy, being your boyfriend has helped me grow as a person,” he says, opening his heart completely to her. “You've made me love myself more and feel braver and more confident. You’ve been there for me when I needed you, you’ve never let me down, you’ve always supported me... Daisy,” he adds, looking at her intensely, “you’ve made my life so much better.”

And yet he’s been so blind... His beautiful flower, so lonely and isolated from everyone, like a mermaid spat out by the sea who suddenly finds herself lying on the sand, not knowing what to do or who to turn to....

It breaks his soul just to imagine it.

“I love you very much,” he continues, piercing her with his gaze, “and I’d give anything to have been able to spare you all this suffering and to find a way for you to see us more often without having to give up your home. Never, do you hear me? You could never be a burden, Daisy, because I want everything with you. The good and the bad. The joys and the sorrows. The moments of fun and the moments of crying in each other's arms. Sharing our jokes and wiping away each other’s tears. You” he emphasizes, sliding a hand down her face to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, “are everything to me. Everything,” he insists, “and I will always be here for you, no matter what.”

Luigi concludes his speech by leaning down to place a kiss on Daisy's cheek, which he finds wet and salty, but he doesn't care. He himself has also burst into tears at some point while speaking, though now he can only smile. He feels as if his heart is glowing in his chest, glistening and full of all the love he feels for his princess. She just looks at him for a few moments, her face the spitting image of surprise, her tanned cheeks drenched, until, with a gasp, she throws herself at him and hides her head in his chest.

And Luigi takes her in his arms once again and offers her comfort and protection.

This time, Daisy cries in a calm manner. Her sobs are not so desperate, and her voice does not sound so heartbroken, although Luigi feels her clinging to him with even more energy, as if for nothing in the world she’d want to be separated from him. The plumber squeezes her in his arms with all his might and begins to sing in her ear the Italian lullaby with which his grandmother used to rock him and Mario as babies, and which Daisy has come to adore with all her soul. He intones the melody in a soft whisper as, again, he slides his hand up and down his princess' beautiful hair, and his heart dances as he notices that Daisy's crying, slowly but surely, almost at the same pace as the soft cadence of the lullaby, simmers down.

Neither of them moves, however. They remain in each other's arms, eyes closed, and Luigi feels Daisy's hand beginning to move down his back as well, drawing random scribbles with her fingers. He can't help but smile, a pleasant warmth filling his chest, and he then begins to fiddle with his Fiore's auburn locks, as soft as silk and as radiant as an autumn forest. When he gently clasps Daisy's body in his arms, she returns the squeeze without hesitation.

Relieved to see that she’s feeling better, more serene and relaxed, lying against him quietly and enjoying his company, Luigi sits down on the floor to give his knees a rest as he thinks again about why she broke down crying in the first place. There has to be something he can do to help her, to fix her situation even a little bit. What if...?

“You know what I'm thinking of?” he starts to say as an idea forms in his mind. “Maybe next time I come to see you I'll bring Mario and Peach with me.”

“Really?” Luigi can almost touch the excitement in Daisy's voice as, without turning away from him, she replies, “And will you and Peach bake a cake again?”

Luigi lets out a giggle, amused.

“Just for you, Fiore,” he promises, and adds: “We could organize a picnic in the gardens of your castle.”

“Well...” Daisy doesn't sound as convinced as he expected. “It's not a bad idea, but you know that this area of Sarasaland is not a very green place. It might be too hot.”

“Hm.” Luigi purses his lips thoughtfully. Daisy is right. “Then...” he says, slowly, and snaps his fingers as soon as a better idea comes to his mind, “How about a party inside your castle? It would be the perfect setting for one of our turn-based games!”

“That...” Daisy replies quietly, weighing it, and unhurriedly sits up to look him in the face. Her eyes sparkle with enthusiasm. “That would be great!” she exclaims, her voice turning into a high-pitched squeal, and she grabs him by the shoulders as she shakes him vigorously. “Besides, the castle would be full of people! Because of course,” she adds, putting one hand to her chest and raising the other with her index finger outstretched, “you'd all be more than welcome to stay over for several days.”

Luigi laughs heartily, thrilled to see that his girlfriend's effusiveness, which he missed so much, has returned stronger than ever.

“Are you sure that’s an invitation and not an obligation?” he replies jokingly.

“I can always make it a law,” Daisy resolves, putting her hands on her hips.

Her answer, as it usually happens, makes Luigi laugh. How he loves to see his beloved princess teasing again. Feeling incredibly giggly and relieved, he reaches for her hands and eagerly shakes them.

“I bet they'll all be more than delighted to stay.”

“Are you sure?” Despite her poise, Daisy hesitates, “They've never stayed here before... They might not like Sarasaland, and besides, the one who understands diplomacy is Peach...”

“And she will gladly help you,” Luigi assures her. “She, Mario, me and all the others will help you with everything you need! And by the way, I'm sure they'll love Sarasaland. It's a very beautiful land. Just like you.”

He taps her tiny nose gently and Daisy lets out a giggle and puts a hand to her mouth rather coquettishly, her cheeks a bit flushed.

“If you continue telling me that, I’ll end up believing it,” she says playfully, and nudges him gently on the shoulder. “Love has clearly clouded your judgment.”

“Not at all, Fiore,” he replies, placing his hands on her hips. “I'm just stating the facts. You should believe it, 'cause it's the truth.”

They stare at each other in rapture for a few seconds, Daisy's hands on Luigi's shoulders. She strokes his cheek with one finger as she tangles the other in his chocolate-colored curls. Luigi realizes that he’s fallen under the spell of his princess' eyes, now, at last, as full of life and wit as he remembered them. And just as beautiful and deep as ever.

“You know what I think?” Daisy then says, moving a little away from him, and Luigi blinks to snap out of her enchantment. “I’m sure Peach would definitely melt if your brother said something like that to her.”

“Of course,” Luigi nods, convinced.

He's very tempted to point out that she's melted too, and that it only makes him melt even more in love with her, but Daisy continues speaking before he has a chance to form the words in his mouth.

“Do you think that, at this party, your brother and Peach will finally... do something to confess their obvious feelings for each other?” asks the princess, curiosity shining in her face.

Luigi is unable to contain the snort that comes from deep within his lungs.

“Honestly? I doubt it very much,” he answers without hesitation. “I've lost count of the times I've tried to get those two together, and there's been no way. It's surprising how blind they are when it's so obvious to everyone that they adore each other!”

Daisy lets out a giggle.

“It really is surprising, isn't it?” she says. “That they can't see how much they want each other.”

“Indeed.” Luigi nods convincingly.

“Maybe it would take another one of your delicious cakes for Mario to finally realize it,” Daisy suggests casually, giving him a meaningful look.

Luigi knows very well what those words hide, as well as the mischievous expression on his girlfriend's face. He loves to see her like that, of course, but, although his mind starts to imagine delicious cakes with which Peach could surprise Mario and from which, of course, Daisy would unhesitatingly steal a piece, he prefers to keep his idea for the future... for the time being.

“And how could we make Peach open her eyes too?” he asks instead.

This may be a game between him and Daisy that he's dying to keep playing, but Luigi genuinely wants to help his friend and his brother, and he knows Daisy does too. The feeling of hanging out with the person you've been in love with for so long, of being able to touch and kiss and hold them in your arms freely, is absolutely wonderful, heavenly even. And he sincerely wishes that Mario and Peach could experience it in each other's arms.

“Hmm...” Daisy puts a finger to her lips, thoughtfully. “Maybe with a nice bouquet of her favorite flowers? You and I could help them with that.”

She winks at him knowingly and Luigi laughs, his heart fluttering in his chest, light as a butterfly.

“Yes... It could work,” he admits, really liking the idea.

“Heh!” Daisy gives a proud smile, showing all her teeth. “Looks like I’ll have to take action in the end so that these two end up together. Maybe my ideas aren’t that bad after all!”

She places a finger on his shoulder in an accusatory manner, which, coupled with the way her tone of voice has risen as she spoke, gets another laugh out of Luigi.

“No offense, Fiore,” he says humorously, gently taking her hand, “but your ideas are usually pretty... crazy.”

“Crazy?” Daisy repeats, holding a hand to her chest with horror painted on her face. The way she pretends to be tremendously offended is so comical that Luigi snorts. “Need I remind you that you’re talking to a princess, sir?”

Immediately, Luigi has to force himself to hold back his laughter and tries his best to compose a serious and grave expression. He places his arm on his stomach, closes his eyes and slightly bends his upper body, which is not easy considering that he’s still sitting on the floor.

“My apologies, Your Highness,” he pronounces as solemnly as he can.

This time it is Daisy who lets out a snort, much louder than the one he emitted seconds before.

“Oh, you think you're funny, huh?”

Before Luigi even has time to sit up again, he feels that Daisy lets go of his hand and takes it and the other one to his belly, where she begins tickling him with all her energy. Luigi starts laughing hysterically before his brain even manages to register what’s happening, and his thunderous laughter mixes with Daisy's, which is no less loud. Squirming from the tickling and trying, unsuccessfully, to grab his girlfriend's hands to stop her, Luigi ends up falling backwards, so that he’s lying on the ground with his Fiore on top of him.

At that moment, luckily, his princess seems to take pity on him and quits the attack. Luigi still hears her laughing as he tries to catch his breath with watery eyes, although, this time, they’re dampened for a very different reason. Opening them, he finds Daisy leaning over him, watching him with a mischievous glint in her eye and biting her lower lip.

She’s so beautiful that he feels a sudden urge to kiss her.

Smiling, still panting, Luigi raises a hand to caress her cheek. Daisy places her hands on either side of his head, and his heart almost leaps out of his chest as he realizes that she’s getting closer and closer.

When they’re very close, their noses almost touching, Luigi feels his girlfriend's fingers beginning to play with his hair once again. The naughty expression remains on her face, and a new giggle escapes her mouth before she finally breaks the distance between them.

The passion with which Daisy presses her lips against his makes Luigi break into a rapt smile before, at last, he can reciprocate her kiss. He does it with delight, as he does every time they kiss, unable to get enough of her taste, and he doesn't separate from her until he feels her laugh warmly against his mouth.

“I love you, Luigi,” Daisy says to him, staring into his eyes.

There it is again: the way she pronounces his name as if it were pure poetry. Her eyes still sparkle playfully, but her voice sounds firm and confident, with no trace of mockery. Luigi gives her the widest of his smiles and, once again, brushes a lock of hair back from her beautiful, beaming face.

“I love you too, Daisy.”

They kiss once more just as eagerly, Daisy still laughing in his mouth, Luigi catching that jovial joy he missed so much. With the same enthusiasm, Daisy sits up and pulls him close as she begins to beg him to please pick up his ukulele and play something for her, and Luigi, always willing to do anything to see her happy, hurries to find his instrument and sits back down in front of her.

He couldn't be happier to be here and now, with his Daisy, his Fiore, enjoying her company and plucking notes on his ukulele to express all the love he feels for her and how important she is in his life. As he sings, however, all that has just happened comes back to him, and Daisy's smiling face, the thrill with which she watches him as he plays for her, fills him with a fierce determination that makes him want to do everything in his power to protect her from harm.

He may not be able to change the situation his Fiore is in. He may not hold the key to making everything better for her. It may be something beyond his control.

But there is something he can do to keep his princess from ever feeling lonely again. Something he can do to be with her and keep her company even when he’s not physically by her side.

He’s going to write her a song.

[steddie-week]

Steddie Week 2024 is officially over!

We're still monitoring for late works, but thank you so much to everyone who participated and shared their beautiful creations with us for the second annual Steddie Week! If you made something and we have not yet reblogged it, please send us an ask or tag us.

We had over 200 submissions for this year's celebration which is absolutely incredible. You're all amazing! Make sure to check out the fics, art, and works in the AO3 collection and to please reblog, kudos, and comment on those that you enjoy! 💕

A huge thank you to @pizzaqueen for creating the super inspiring prompts this year (and in 2023- check out those works too while you're at it!) and to @sharpbutsoft for making the wonderful promo graphics!

See you all next year for Steddie Week 2025!

-Steddie Week Mods 🦇⚓️

[iceandfirejonerysdiscord]

Jonerys Falling For You 2024 — Masterpost

Hello everyone!

When we saw the promo pics for Kit Harington’s werewolf movie in June, we knew we had to make an event for Halloween. No other holiday or time of year inspires as much uniqueness and creativity whether it’s modern or canon, spooky or sexy. We had a great time putting our favorite ship in many different spaces and time, and hope you enjoyed it too.

This event marks the last event our blog will be hosting. Thank you so much to everyone who participated in this event and prior ones whether by submitting your wonderful creations or by supporting and showing your appreciation for the writers, artists, and editors.

We hope you continue to write and create, and/or be kind and supportive to those who do!

Below the cut you'll find the list of submissions. If you've not done so already please be sure to check out all of the works and show your appreciation via kudos, comments, and reblogs!

-Moon and Ariel

Day 1 (10/29) Dragon Dreams | Cursed | The Night is Dark and Full of Terrors

knell of a requiem bell by @magalidragon

Dany Frankenstein by @arielchelby

time, mystical time by @moondancer71

The Last Unicorn by @arielchelby

Repo! The Genetic Opera by @arielchelby

burn under the same sky by @alwaysdaenerys

Always together. Eternally apart by @rhaegarblackfire

Day 2 (10/30) Beast Within | The Fire is Mine | Haunted

Into the Wild Wood by @arielchelby

who's afraid of little old me? by @moondancer71

Witch of the Wood by @arielchelby

Your Monster by @arielchelby

End of Youth: In Love and War by @axdragons

A Union of Bloodlines by @rhaegarblackfire

Merciless by @thebeastunderyourbed

Day 3 (10/31) The Perfect Costume | Halloween Night | Free Choice

Stardust by @arielchelby

Stick Season by @moondancer71

Evil Dead by @arielchelby

The Curse of Crystal Lake by @arielchelby

where raging storms at midnight howl (this place is haunted) by @girlwithakiwi

You & I by 7empest

[kitchenisking]

April Fic Rec

Hello everyone! happy spring! I just want to say thank you to everyone who enjoys my recs. I was thinking of taking a break from posting the last two months but then I thought 'fuck it'. the response that I got from you guys showed me how much my recs are enjoyed! so to everyone that reblog and likes the recs - I see you! I see your names pop up every months and it brings me such joy! and to all the new follower - it makes me happy that new people are finding my recs and are enjoying these amazing stories written by these amazing authors!

please don't forget to kudos and comment for our authors and ill see you soon😘

Knot My Favorite Smell by KnottheWolf - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 2,470, sterek)

Day 1-Scent Marking: Derek just missed his mate, Stiles, so he decides to visit Stiles at college. Only to grow upset when his mate’s room doesn’t smell like him anymore.

Just Stopped Working For Me by dedougal - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 11,447, sterek)

Stiles never expected to meet Derek Hale. He definitely never expected the movie star to slide into his cab and ask for his help.

Clueless by IgnorantofTime - (Rating: G, Words: 1,775, sterek)

Scott comes to the realisation that his best friend is in love with Derek Hale. Now he just needs to make them realise it.

an awful curse by blinkiesays - (Rating: T, Words: 6,253, sterek)

Isaac is asleep in a chair. The angle of his neck makes Derek wince in sympathy.

"Isaac," Derek says.

Isaac snaps awake immediately.

"You're-"

"Where's Stiles?"

"Stiles?" Isaac asks.

Jesus. It's not like they know more than one.

"That’s fate." by EvanesDust - (Rating: G, Words: 2,256, sterek)

…the one where Stiles meets his future husband.

That I Miss You by Noname109 - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 1,741, sterek)

The pounding of the water against the tenseness of his muscles makes Stiles let out a long, drawn out groan of pain and pleasure. After a hard day’s work, the proof of it is shown in the coil and rigidity of his shoulders, torso, and legs. 

And it’s not like he doesn’t love interning under his dad and getting to help out solving crimes and chasing down the bad guys, but at the end of his shift it leaves him gone to the world unless it involves a shower.

He’s so relaxed five minutes into it that he doesn’t even jump when two arms snake around his waist. Stiles just hums contentedly and lets his body go slack.

Things We Know, Unsaid by uraneia - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 6,036, sterek)

Inspired by this Tumblr post, and written for lupinus's birthday.

Stiles accidentally finds a trunk full of Derek's professional dom gear from when he lived in New York. They don't talk about it. Then Stiles turns eighteen, and they do.

*

If he thought Derek would be angry or embarrassed at Stiles finding a trunk full of quality BDSM gear in his closet, he’d have been wrong. “I used to do it professionally, in New York,” Derek says easily, and Stiles—Stiles doesn’t know how to process that. Because he’s seventeen and has eyes and an unfortunately vivid imagination, and if he lets it go there he’s not going to get any use out of any body part except his dick for several hours.

Cravings, Pack and Angry Sex by Jumping_Jess - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 1,953, sterek)

It's a Pavlov response okay?! Pregnant Stiles + Angry Stiles = Horny Derek

Little Red Prince by SterlingAg - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 48,974, sterek)

Running from a group of bandits, Stiles finds himself injured and on the land of none other than the Shifter Derek Hale. But what is a Shifter? Is this Derek a friend or foe? What about the secret Stiles himself is keeping? What will become of the odd pair in this tale set in a fantasy world?

Basketball Shorts and Highlighters by sffan - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 1,720, sterek)

The UST between Derek and Stiles finally reaches a tipping point.

[rustingcat]

Celebrating the one year anniversary of my blog with a redraw of one of my first supercorp artworks!

That was my real first attempt at colouring. I've learned a lot and improved so much since then, and I feel like it's all thanks to this fandom.

So here's for all of you who reblogged, liked, and enjoyed my art. For the kind people who read my fics and left lovely comments and kudos. And for all the amazing friends I made thanks to this fantastic community. I love you all my darlings, and I hope we keep creating and inspiring each other in the future❤️