#there are much more of you that have been so lovely and encouraging and I am grateful for you all <333< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[navybrat817]

All Dressed Up

Pairing: Biker!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky visits a gallery to support his best friend and unexpectedly meets the girl of his dreams.

Word Count: Over 2.3k

Warnings: First meeting, mild dirty thoughts, instacrush, swearing, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Okay, lovelies. A new AU. I'm sorry. @targaryenvampireslayer @tavners @starlightcrystalline @whisperlullaby @sgt-seabass @vesearlee , I feel like you all either heard me screech, encouraged, or helped me, and I appreciate you. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo and divider by the incredible @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky didn’t dress up for most people since it wasn’t his style. He would do so for any of his brothers though, especially Steve. His best friend since childhood, and his club’s president, he always had a love and talent for drawing and painting. And after working his ass off on his exhibit it would’ve been a crime for the vice president not to show up.

Steve promised if there was ever a day when Bucky’s writing became published he’d be by his side to celebrate too. As much as they liked to give each other shit sometimes about art and how they created it, the support was there through and through. The only catch for tonight was that he had to dress nicely to get into the gallery. So, instead of the usual leather jacket or vest he wore and jeans, he went with a plain black suit and white button up shirt.

He refused to wear a tie since it wasn’t a wedding. He had to draw a line somewhere. No one paid him any mind though as they walked around the gallery, and he was more than fine with that. This wasn’t his night.

“You should be proud, punk,” Bucky said, looking over the art lining the large wall, each piece crafted with care.

“I am proud, jerk,” Steve smiled. He hadn’t worn a tie either, and it made Bucky feel a little better. “And you know you don’t have to stay the whole time.”

Bucky knew that. He also knew members and prospects would be trickling in and out throughout the evening. “Not needed at the bar tonight, so I can stay as long as I want. But I might cut out early since I see your face enough between that and the club.”

Steve chuckled. “Still haven’t sold the place, huh?”

The brunette sighed. It wasn’t the first time Steve asked if he was going to sell the bar to focus more on writing. “Where the hell would you all hang out if I sold the place?” He liked the bar. It wasn’t just a great hangout for the club, but for his other regulars, too.

“There are other bars,” Steve teased. He said that, but he loved the bar, too. “You know I just want you to-”

“Follow my compass. I know. You’ve said that so many…” He stopped talking when he saw an unexpected angel walk into the room.

Well, angel was the word that came to mind since you were wearing a white dress and the light over your head illuminated you like a halo. But as his eyes swept over you, he wondered if there was a bit of a devil in you. He wouldn’t mind bringing that side out of you if you gave him the chance.

And here he used to think love at first sight was bullshit.

“Hey. Do you know her?” Bucky subtly nodded in your direction as you spoke to another woman, jealousy flaring up for a second at the thought of his best friend knowing you and not telling him. And if you knew Steve, that was that before things even started. While the blonde didn’t have much game growing up, he came into his own after his growth spurt, and everyone adored or wanted him.

Steve shook his head. “No, I don’t,” he said, making Bucky’s shoulders slump in relief before his friend scrutinized him. “Jesus, are you eye fucking her? You are, aren’t you?”

Bucky wasn’t the least bit ashamed. “And I’ll keep doing it ‘til she looks at me,” he replied, wishing you’d at least spare him a glance and get a look at him in his nice suit. Maybe you weren’t into guys with tattoos and piercings, but he was certain he could change your mind if that was the case.

“How long has it been since you’ve been on a date?” Steve asked. “Just introduce yourself like a gentleman and see where that goes.”

“A couple of months? Something like that.” Tearing his gaze away to glance at his inked hands, he chuckled. “You think I’m a gentleman?”

He could be dangerous and downright dirty when the occasion called for it, but just because he rode a motorcycle and covered himself in tattoos and piercings didn’t mean he treated others poorly. He was raised better than that. Even with his ex-girlfriends, things never ended because he didn’t treat them well. They just weren’t the one.

“We both know you are. Sometimes,” Steve answered, smirking as a beat passed. “And she’s looking your way.”

Bucky’s head snapped up to find you looking right at him with a curious stare. You had the prettiest eyes he had ever seen. Which was nothing compared to your smile. It was like watching the sun slowly rise to meet the day.

Fuck, he was being sappy. You ruined him with a single stare, and he wanted to ruin you in return. Make it so you wouldn’t want another man.

You whispered something to the woman beside you before she nudged you forward and he realized Steve pushed him to move, too. It only took three more steps before he was right in front of you, the gentle smell of your sweet perfume filling his nostrils. Need slammed into his body as you smiled again, and he actually felt the blue of his eyes shrink as his pupils widened.

If Steve thought he was eye fucking you before…

“Hey,” he said, his voice raspier than usual.

“Hi,” you said. It was a voice he could listen to for hours and he wondered what it would sound like when you said his name.

“I’m Bucky.” He took a smaller step closer, trying his damnedest to block out any other man around him so you’d keep those pretty eyes on him.

You introduced yourself, too, and it was a name he would never forget. “I like your tattoos,” you added almost shyly. Almost.

If he had his way, you’d see the rest of them soon enough. “Thanks,” he smiled, holding one hand up to show you. “Dressed like this, I bet you think I’m part of the mob.” After getting dressed and adding the gold jewelry, even he thought for a split second he looked like a mobster.

“Are you or is that information I can’t be privy to?” you asked, making him chuckle. You didn’t skip a beat, and he liked that.

“Not part of the mob, but I am part of a motorcycle club,” he replied. He wore his patch with pride and that didn’t seem to scare you, which was good. “I also own a bar.” He didn’t know why added that part. You didn’t ask and he didn’t want to brag, but there he was.

“So, you ride a motorcycle, and you own a bar?” You glanced back at your friend to ask her, “Do you mind if I…”

“I’m good. You two talk,” your friend smiled, giving Bucky an encouraging wink. He looked back to find that Steve walked away, too.

You smiled as you faced Bucky again. “Well, I’m happy to hear more about either of those things if you have time.”

“Yeah.” A lopsided smile appeared before he could stop it. “I got time,” he said. All the time in the world.

Over the next hour, the two of you stayed close together and talked in between looking at Steve’s pieces. He told you he was there to support Steve and talked a little bit more about the bar he owned. A hole in the wall kind of place he fixed up. While he wasn’t a big drinker, he loved making them for his regulars, and his profession allowed him to get away with all the tattoos.

“I’ll have to stop by sometime,” you smiled before it faltered. “If that’s okay.”

He didn’t want to get his hopes up, but his heart raced, and he wanted to see you smile again. “I’ll hold you to that,” he teased. “What about you? What do you do for work?”

You told him that you were a blood bank nurse and still fairly new to the area. While you didn’t have too many friends nearby, you liked your neighborhood and the one friend you had made invited you to the gallery since she was an art enthusiast. You also let it slip that you were single upon your move here, which he was happy to hear since he was, too, but he didn’t miss the note of sadness in your voice.

He could help fix it if you were lonely.

“I’m not seeing anyone either,” he stated.

You raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “You don’t have an old lady?” His eyes went right to your lip when he bit it. “That is the correct term of endearment, right?”

“That’s right,” he said, his eyes soft. “Both of those things are right.”

You bit your lip again and he wasn’t sure if you were purposely trying to entice him, but now he wanted to bite your lip. “So, do you do anything for fun outside of riding and work?”

He almost groaned when you said “riding” and he had to shake his head to keep his mind from drifting. He couldn’t think of you being on his bike with your arms wrapped tight around him or you riding him or anything like that. “Well…”

He explained that he wrote a bit in his spare time outside of work and the club. It was a hobby mostly, but it would be a dream come true to get his work out there one day. If not, that was okay, too, because he had a decent life and didn’t need much. His bike, his brothers.

But to have an old lady…

“Maybe I could read…” you frowned when you saw the time. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how late it was. I should get going,” you said, disappointment filling both of you.

“Oh.” He scratched the back of his neck. The two of you were having a nice talk, and he hadn’t had a chance to ask about your hobbies yet. “It’s still kinda early. Do you really have to go?” he asked, realizing just how desperate he sounded. God, if the prospects could hear him right now… He just didn’t want the night to end.

“Yeah, I do. I’m actually working a blood drive tomorrow and could use the rest,” you said, smiling sadly. He felt like an ass for asking you to stay when you had work to do. “I don’t know if you’ve heard anything about it, but you’re welcome to stop by if you want to donate. I always have this fear that people won’t show, which I realize sounds ridiculous.”

Bucky mentally kicked his ass for not knowing about a local blood drive. He was usually more on top of those sorts of things. “Where’s it at?” You gave the location and time, which was all he needed. “I’ll be there,” he promised.

And every single club member would be there, too, if they knew what was good for them.

“Really?” you smiled, your hand bumping his when you turned to face him. “You’ll go?”

He let his fingers brush yours and he smiled to himself when he felt the light shiver. “Of course, doll.”

“Doll?” you giggled. He hoped he didn’t offend you. “I hope you show,” you added in a small voice, your gaze focused on the ground.

Frowning a bit, he wondered if you didn’t believe him. Did someone let you down before? “If I say I’ll be there…” He lifted your chin, so you’d look into his eyes. He needed you to see the truth in them. “I’ll be there.”

You exhaled, staring deeply into his eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow then,” you whispered.

He grudgingly released you, knowing he had to. Besides, if he kept touching you, there was a good chance he’d pin you against the wall and show you what a work of art you were. “Good night,” he whispered, watching you go back to your friend. She linked her arm with yours as you glanced back, keeping your eyes on Bucky until you were out of sight.

He exhaled, mentally kicking his ass again. Why the fuck didn’t he ask for your number? You two hit it off, and you wanted to see him at least in some capacity beyond the blood drive, right?

Steve made a beeline for him as he stayed rooted to the spot. “It looks like you two hit it off. You know you didn’t even say hi to Chris or Sam or-”

“We’re going to a blood drive tomorrow,” he cut in. He hoped people would show, but he gave you his word he’d be there, and the club was all about giving back to the community.

The blonde’s eyebrows pinched. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Blood drive. Tomorrow. Everyone,” he said, giving his friend a hard stare. “You’re the president. Make it happen.”

“You’re the vice president, which means you supervise plans for club events or gatherings. That includes last minute things,” he pointed out, his eyebrows shooting up as Bucky got his phone out and typed quickly. “You’re serious about this?”

“Is it too much to say, ‘You better fucking be there or you’ll pay for it later’?”

The blonde grinned. A shit-eating, knowing grin, and he wanted to smack him. “This is all for her, isn’t it?”

Bucky sighed. He hadn't expected to meet someone so perfect tonight. “She’s a nurse and I wanna help. Besides, it’s good for the community and you’re all about that shit.” And he had to make a better impression after not asking for your number. “Will you at least promise you’ll be there?”

“To watch my whipped best friend fawn over a pretty nurse? Hell yeah.”

“Beautiful,” he corrected him. “She’s beautiful.”

And while Bucky would fawn over you tomorrow, he also hoped he’d get your number.

So, what do we think so far? Part of this writing style was slightly different for me, but I like how it turned out! I still need to give this reader a nickname and the AU a name, but this is a start. I can't wait for the whole club to show up at the blood drive. I also have something silly and cute planned for these two. ❤️ Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[msfbgraves]

Fanfic authors have been getting increasingly horribly exploited in the past five years especially. Our work stolen to feed AI that is then being used to put other writers out of work. Wattpad antics. The reselling of plagiarised works published for free. And then this trend of not including an author in the gushing about the works. That is like holding a birthday party for a person to share how much you love them, only not inviting them. Because your love for that person is personal to you and your other friends and none of the celebrated person's business. You're shy! You don't know what to say!

I have been incredibly lucky on having had a lot of engagement on Tumblr in the Silverusso fandom, but I have been in other fandoms whose works are still on Ao3 and also still being clicked on, for what purpose I don't know. But with the current climate, I don't feel like adding much more to other fandoms there especially. There's a few Cherik fics I have toyed with updating, but haven't been inspired enough for, knowing that it's like a lottery nowadays. Sure, the effort could pay off, but what is more likely to happen, at least when posting on Ao3 alone, is mocking silence. Deep in my heart I know that some people will be made happier if I did do it, but knowing that others will use it only to enrich themselves is not a joyful thought at all.

Love will get your fanfic authors a long way in sharing their stories, but if they get nothing at all in return, while knowing that people may even be stealing it for their own ends; that is not an environment conducive to writing. It's an abusive relationship, and we all know that not doing anything beats being in an abusive relationship.

I mean, theoretically my works and other works are being enjoyed because there is an outcry when Ao3 is down. But there is a reason people applaud after live performances. If they didn't, people would stop doing it! Even when the reasons to start doing it are mostly altruistic on the artist's part. Everybody tells you in life to stop putting your efforts where they're not actively appreciated. I mean, did Cinderella's stepfamily enjoy the efforts of her labour? Did it enrich them? Likely yes! Would you have encouraged her to keep providing it, even if she may have started out of love for her family's home? Girl no! Even this kind hearted girl left, because that is what you do when your efforts are unappreciated and exploited, even when they're clearly of value.

If I simply posted and got zero response - no engagement even, I could say the fault was mine. Either for being in the wrong place or doing the wrong thing. But when there is engagement, but no appreciation and people are hawking it somewhere, which I now know they are through the mere existence of AI, adding more is an actively stupid thing to do.

I'm not blaming readers exactly, I'm just pointing out that when you're getting no appreciation and are being exploited, continuing to do something isn't wise and stopping an activity (in this case, writing fic) is a rational decision to make! There's more rewarding things anyone could be doing, even if the activity itself is of much value!

Maybe I will post more in some old fandoms or even new ones, but right now, the only thing that could really compel me to post anything when I am not 100% certain there already is an active audience is an obsession so strong it overrides logic. And that will get you some fic, but not multiple longfics, I assure you.

And no updates. Things that aren't nourished die.

A writer friend told me something that broke my heart a little bit today; they're going to quit publishing their fanfic.

My instant thought was that they had been trolled or attacked or that something terrible had happened in their life because this person is so passionate about their writing. It wasn't any of that. Engagement with their works has been going down, as it has for many of us. Comments are like gold dust a lot of the time, and just looking through the historical comment counts on old fics on ao3 demonstrates this trend very clearly. It was not simply the comments dropping off which caused them to decide to stop posting, however.

My friend came across a discord server for their fandom (I should point out here that their fandom interest and mine diverged a couple of years ago, we stay in touch but don't currently read each other's posts because I'm not into their fandom and they would rather gouge their eyes out with a wooden spoon than read anything Star Wars) and specifically to share fic in that fandom. They joined, because we all love a good fic rec, only to discover that their latest multichapter fic, which has almost no comments and very few kudos, is being hotly discussed in this server as one of the best stories ever. Not one of these people has bothered to say this to them on the fic. When they asked, none of participants could see the point in telling the author of the fic they apparently loved so much that they love it.

This discovery has absolutely destroyed my friend's love of sharing fic. They share because they love seeing other people's enjoyment, and fic writers do that through comments and kudos/reblogs/likes because we don't get paid. There is no literary critic writing a blog post/article about how amazing the story is for us to copy and keep/frame. There is no money from royalties. All we have are the words of the people reading our works.

Those people on that server could have taken five minutes of the time they spent gushing about how amazing my friend's story was to other people and used it to tell the one person guaranteed to want to hear that praise how much they loved it. They could have taken a moment to express their opinion to the person who spent hours upon hours plotting, writing, editing, and posting those chapters. Instead, they deprived my friend of thing that keeps them sharing their writing, and in the process have killed their love of it. My friend now feels used and unmotivated.

I won't be sharing a link to their fic, they said I could share their experience but not their identity. I know they plan to post one final chapter. I know they intend to express their hurt at being excluded from the praise for the thing they created, and I know they intend to announce that as a consequence they will not be posting for a long while, if at all.

So please, I beg you, don't hide your love of a story from the writer. It's just about the only thing we have.

[singmyaubade]

neeeeeedd finals themed x reader fics rn but i cant find ANYTHINGGGG i just need my fav boys to comfort me while im on my grindset 😞😞😞

hiii! i was a little late to see this request, but i still wanted to write it! hope your finals went super well and that you’re enjoying the break! great work <33

bf!poly!marauders x gf!female!reader

summary: OWL's was truly getting to you but your favorite boys always know how to comfort you.

warnings: pure fluff: kissing, cutesy stuff, just teasing tension

--

OWL's was starting to feel like an understatement.

The late nights, the constant ignoring of everything around you, never quite living in the moment… yeah, understatement doesn’t even begin to cover it.

But getting perfect marks wasn’t a want, it was a need.

If you wanted to be an Auror, if you wanted Dumbledore’s reference—passing OWLs with flying colors wasn’t optional. It was a must.

And, unfortunately, everyone else around you seemed to be paying for it.

James had been trying to get you to play Quidditch with him for three days straight. He even promised to buy you that dress you’d been eyeing during your last trip to Hogsmeade. You appreciated the effort but didn't cave.

Not long after, Sirius had tried his own tactic—convincing you to go skinny-dipping in the Black Lake. He even tried to seduce you.

It was worse than James' attempt if you were being honest.

Then Remus—who was usually the one to encourage studying—tried to get you to let him read to you, just so you could get some sleep.

And you wanted to. You really did. But you couldn’t afford distractions—not with the potions section of your notes still untouched.

So, they gave you space. Finally. Or so you thought.

“Hi, my love,” Remus murmured, massaging your shoulders, pulling you from your thoughts. You grinned and leaned up to kiss him.

“Hello,” you chirped, your focus still on scribbling notes.

“Still working hard?” He asked, but his voice was light, full of warmth.

You hummed, nodding in agreement. “Well, I have a surprise for you,” He said, his tone suddenly more serious.

You didn’t really register what he said at first, still lost in your notes. But then, without warning, he gently turned you toward him.

“Darling, I need you to step away from your quill and paper for just a second,” He said, his gaze soft but earnest. You frowned.

“But Remmy, I really need to finish this,” You protested.

He gave you a playful yet exhausted look. “I swear, it’ll still be here. I just want you to see something.”

You sighed and reluctantly set the quill down, giving your notes one last sad look before following him as he gently took your hand and led you out of the library.

“What is this surprise?” You asked, your impatience creeping into your voice.

“You’ll see, my love,” He replied with a soft smile.

“But I really need to study,” You rambled. “Professor Turner is going to mark me down if I mess up the measurements for the ingredients. You know how picky she is.”

Remus chuckled, stopping to look at you with tender amusement. “I swear on Merlin’s beard, you’ll pass. You just need to stop stressing about it so much.”

His hands cupped your face, and he kissed your forehead, making you smile despite yourself.

Soon, you found yourself in the outdoor grassy area, where you could see James and Sirius bickering about something. Remus led you over to a picnic blanket where the two were sitting.

“What’s going on here?” You asked, looking between them.

“Well…” James began, standing up and making his way toward you. “We thought you could use a little stress reliever after all that studying.”

He took your hands in his. “And we wanted to do something nice for you,” He added, a playful glint in his eyes.

You grinned. “Thank you guys,” You said, feeling your heart warm at their thoughtfulness.

“We had to, love,” Sirius chimed in, looking at you with a teasing smirk. “We were worried your pretty little brain was going to overload.”

You giggled and sat down on the blanket next to Remus. The scent of fresh blueberry muffins wafted up, making your stomach rumble.

“I never knew you guys could bake,” You said, eyeing the spread laid out in front of you.

James grinned proudly. “Well, we all make great bakers,” he said. “Remus has precision, I’ve got my luck, and Sirius…”

“Hey! I was moral support!” Sirius interjected, pushing James lightly.

You laughed, glancing at Remus. “This is really sweet. Thank you.”

“Of course, my love,” Remus said, leaning in to kiss you softly. “We’d do anything for you. And we both know you’ll pass, because you’re brilliant.”

“Yeah, that brain of yours would outsmart all of us,” Sirius said, shaking his head with a grin.

“And, uh, I did come up with the idea for the basket,” James interrupted, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “I think I deserve a kiss for that.”

You giggled, leaning over to give him a quick peck.

“I suggested we have it outside,” Sirius added, looking pleased with himself.

You laughed again before giving him a peck as well.

Remus smiled at you lovingly, his hand resting on your knee. “I’m just glad you’re here with us,” He said quietly.

“Well,” You said with a cheeky grin, “I think it’s time for some skinny dipping. Maybe a bit of Quidditch? And, oh, a bedtime story?”

The boys’ eyes all lit up. Sirius’ grin grew mischievous.

“You had me at skinny dipping,” He said with a wink.

[tkwrites]

Soft Launch; Hard Launch - Quinn Hughes x ofc

gif from @kawhh

Title: Soft Launch; Hard Launch: A 500 Follower Celly

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts (ofc) 

Warnings: Though most of this is fluff, there is a really nasty comment left on a social media post and mentions of poor self body image.

Summary: 4 times Quinn soft launched his relationship with Sarah, and one time he did it for real.

Word Count: 2,900

Comments: The idea of writing a 4+1 fic for my 500 mark has been rolling around my head for a while, so when I hit 500 followers about a week ago, I thought I'd try my hand at it. Many thanks to @aloragrace and @captainlexaproluvr for looking over this piece and calming my fears about doing new things. I’ve never written in this format before, but I quite like the way this turned out.  I’d love to know what you think!

I'm just bowled over and so excited! Thank you all so much. Knowing people enjoy my writing has been so fulfilling to me. I’ve wanted to write since I was about thirteen, but never had the guts to publish anything for people other than my friends to read. Now that I have and know that people like it, it feels a bit like I’m giving my little inner awkward teenager the best gift she could ever ask for. Thank you for your encouragement, kindness, and support! I can’t tell you how much it means to me.  

If you did enjoy this Snapshot, please let me know by commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask. Your encouragement and comments truly inspire me to keep writing. 

Soft Launch; Hard Launch: A 500 Follower Celly

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot 

1.

The first time Quinn put Sarah on his social media was after they got home from the family reunion. The Monday after she left, he was looking back through his photos while he waited for her to get off work. He found one from their beach day he’d completely forgotten he’d taken. Sarah was kneeling over a tide pool with a few of his cousins, pointing to something in the water, while they looked into her face with rapt attention.

Even though her face was mostly hidden from view, she looked beautiful in that casual way he loved so much. Her hair was up in a bun, and she was wearing a pair of denim shorts along with her orange swim top.

Do you mind if I put this on my stories? he asked later that night, once she'd texted that she’d arrived home safely and would call as soon as she changed.

“I don’t mind,” she told him after they said their initial hellos, caught up on each other's day, and he asked again. “I’m a little surprised this is the first photo you want to go with,” she admitted. 

“Why?” 

“I don’t know. I thought maybe you’d want to go with something more…” she trailed off, unsure exactly how to phrase what she was thinking. She’d only glanced at it, but from what she remembered, the photo wasn’t anything special. It was from the tide pools, and though it fulfilled the mission of showing her without showing her whole face, she didn’t look excessively beautiful or anything. In fact, the first thing she’d zeroed in on were her stomach rolls. Echoes of girls calling her too fat to be with NHL superstar Quinn Hughes rang in her mind. 

“I like it,” he defended before she could find the right words or slide down the slippery slope of body image woes. “You’re doing what you love.” 

It melted something in her that he looked at that photo and saw her passion. “That’s really sweet, Quinn.” 

“So it’s okay?” 

How could she say no now? “Yeah. It’s okay.”  She reminded herself she wouldn’t see any of the things people were saying about her unless she sought them out, which she had no intention of doing.

He put it up with nothing more than an orange heart in the corner as soon as they hung up from the FaceTime call.

Less than a minute later, Eunice raced into Sarah's room. She was so overly excited, she ran into the door jam, bouncing off of it before regaining her balance. She thrust her phone into Sarah's face. “Quinn put you on his stories!” 

Glancing at the screen, Sarah smiled. “Yeah, he just asked me if he could put that photo up.”

“Oh my god. This is so dreamy,” she gushed, turning the phone back around to look at the picture again. “You look so pretty.” 

2.

The second soft launch was on his main feed at the end of the summer, though he still didn’t show her face.

It wasn’t until they got home from Hawaii and all shared their photos that Quinn realized just how many pictures his mom had taken. He was used to her snapping pictures of them - it was a very common occurrence to look around at any given moment, especially on vacation, to find her brandishing a camera to document everything she could.

He’d never appreciated it more until he was looking through the shared album and saw all the moments his mom caught. There were photos of him and his brothers and him and Sarah once she got there. There was even a video of his and Luke’s shock at their girlfriends’ arrival.  

His favorite picture she took was from the beach outside of their vacation rental. Anxious for a quiet moment together, Sarah pulled him outside to watch the sun set.

The rest of the family was inside, debating something about dinner. They had been on a kayak and hiking tour that day, and he was so tired, he was beyond caring. As long as some kind of food was provided, he’d be fine.  

His mom must have walked out onto the back porch to snap the photo. 

 The sun, sinking into the ocean in front of them, turned them into shadow as Sarah leaned her head on his shoulder. It was the kind of photo people put in vacation advertisements, and when he’d seen it, he knew it had to be included in his end of summer review.

He uploaded it with a carousel of six other photos before captioning the post, One for the books. 

After receiving sixty notifications in the first five minutes, most of them from people he didn’t know asking who the girl in the 5th photo was, he muted the app.

It wasn’t until he looked at the comments that evening and saw, I think this must be that fat bitch he was dating during the season. I was hoping they’d broken up since he didn’t stay in Vancouver this summer and she did, that he disabled comments all together.

He’d been so angry that someone who didn’t know either of them would say anything like that, he had drafted a reply before realizing he was about to engage in a reactionary argument with someone he didn't even know or have any emotional ties to. He wanted to correct them, but knew he should really get PR help to do that. 

When they talked about social media for the first time in their relationship, Sarah explained how the comments from these so-called fans made her feel. Even though she knew they didn’t know her as a person and didn’t have any place in their relationship or lives, it was difficult not to let them get to her. 

He knew the feeling well. He’d gone through the same thing when he accepted the captaincy. The pressure to perform had been so immense, it had turned him into a snappy, short-fused, irritable person until, at the advice of some other captains in the league, he started putting his phone down regularly. 

3. 

The third came when it was his turn to sit for a 32 Thoughts podcast episode with Elliott and Kyle, and they were shooting the breeze before the actual interview began. 

“We missed you at dinner,” Elliott said, referencing a banquet that the league had hosted the night before for all players and press on site for the whirlwind pre-season media tour.

Without really thinking about it, Quinn found himself explaining, “my girlfriend's family lives here, so Jack and I had dinner with them last night.”

“She's not here?” Elliott asked. 

“No, she has stuff going on back home so she couldn't be, but it was nice to see them.” Some players brought family to the media tour, but not many. It was a short stint, shorter than most road trips during the season, so most didn’t bother.

Their producer, Shanna, flashed a red light, letting them know it was time to start the formal interview. Kyle counted down, “three two and one,” before introducing Quinn and starting with the questions. 

At the end of the recording, both Elliott and Shanna asked if he wanted them to cut his talk about his girlfriend and her family from the episode. Usually, they left those anecdotal conversations in, especially on the youtube videos, but this one was a bit more nuanced. 

“I think it should be fine, but can I talk to her about it and get back to you?” 

“Of course,” Shanna said, smiling. “It’s not slated to go up for a few weeks, so just let us know by the 17th.”

When he'd asked Sarah about it that night after arriving home, she seemed unconcerned. 

“I think that's kind of up to you.” She knew from their FaceTime conversation the night before that Quinn, Jack and their agent had eaten at Rachel's house, so there was no risk of someone posting photos and making the connection they were with her family.  

“I mean, people have been speculating you have a girlfriend, right?” she asked. 

“Yeah.” It was more than speculation at this point - most people knew he had someone. They just didn’t know who she was. 

“And people who found my instagram already know I’m from Nevada, so I don’t really see what the worry is.” 

He’d expected her to be more worried about it, but now that she was responding to him with cool logic, he had to admit she had a point. 

The next day, he messaged Elliott along with his agent to let them know they could keep the anecdote in the recording. 

When it hit the airwaves, Sarah purposefully didn’t check any of the messages Eunice sent her for a few days. Eunice had taken it upon herself, and continued at Sarah’s request, to report big gossip to her so Sarah wasn’t tempted to go on the blogs or fan accounts. 

Most responses were sort of victorious bragging, posting about connections with Sarah’s instagram “about me” section where she talked about being from Nevada, feeling that this interview proved them right. 

4. 

The fourth time wasn’t planned. 

When Quinn got home from their first regular season road trip, the apartment was dark. It was past two in the morning, and Sarah had a therapy appointment at eight, so she hadn't waited up for him. 

In his trek through the apartment, he paused by the dining room table. Until Sarah moved in, walking into the apartment after a road trip was often the worst part of the whole thing. He was always glad to be back in his own bed, but nothing seemed to exasperate his singleness more than coming home. Not only was he going from being surrounded by the team to being totally alone, he was coming home to an empty house. The combination of the two felt stiflingly lonely.

The mess of textbooks, highlighters, and notebooks left out on the dining room table was such proof of someone else living in the house, it made his chest feel full. 

In a spur of the moment act, he snapped a picture of the dimly lit chaos and posted it to his Instagram stories. No caption, no explanation. Just the simple proof that he wasn't alone.  

“Why did you put a picture of my books on your instagram?” she asked the next day after getting home from her appointment. 

He shrugged, “I liked it.”

The season before, anytime she would study at his house, she would clean everything up, organizing it all back into her bag before going home or coming to bed. 

Now, her books often stayed out on the dining room table on weekends. He offered to convert one of the spare bedrooms into an office for her, or let her use the office he had a computer in now, but she turned him down. 

“I like studying out here,” she'd said, glancing up to look out of the windows. “If it bothers you, I can put everything away.” 

“It doesn't bother me,” he'd said, leaning down to kiss her temple. “I just want you to be comfortable here.” 

She had beamed at him and turned her head to brush her mouth over his. 

5. 

Quinn waited until the one year anniversary of the day he and Sarah met to officially announce their relationship. 

He knew by that time that they could go the distance. He'd seen her through every month and every season and saw no major red flags. Not to mention the fact that everyone in his life liked her, and her family and friends seemed to like him.

Over the course of the year, he'd moved pictures he liked of Sarah and pictures he liked of them together into a favorites album he simply called S. So, in late January, he put together a post and sent it to his PR rep to look over. After they sent it back with some edits, he showed it to Sarah. 

Sarah, who for her part, knew this was coming but wasn’t quite sure what to expect, was taken a bit off guard. She knew Quinn read a lot and was thoughtful with his words, but reading his simple summary of their relationship made her melt. 

He’d included 5 pictures of her that were interspersed with 5 pictures of them together. The first photo was that perfect, golden hour sunset selfie. The rest were all photos she knew he loved. She’d seen some of them, and some of them, she hadn’t. There was a candid shot of her laughing with Jack and Luke that she hadn’t seen before as well as a picture she never knew he’d taken of her sitting at the dining room table with her laptop, looking pensively at the screen, fingers poised to type. There was the photo of them in front of their Christmas tree, and one of them laughing so hard, they were falling all over each other on a beach in Hawaii.

Under the photos, he’d simply written, The best year. and tagged her in the final photo - the dreamy picture Kaitlyn had taken of them under the mistletoe. 

“Quinn,” she breathed, looking up to find him smiling expectantly at her.

“You like it?” he asked. 

“I really like it,” she said, fighting back the tears that pushed at her eyes. 

“You’re sure you’re okay with this?”

He was ready for the world to know that not only was he taken, he was taken with her, and not afraid to say it, but he knew it would likely open up another door of criticism she’d never been exposed to before. 

“Yeah,” she said, nodding. “I’m ready.” 

The fact that Quinn wanted the world to know, without a doubt, that she was the one he was with made her heart race. 

They didn’t have to hide anymore. To her, it was the last, final cementing block in their relationship. It spoke of his faith in their future and his dedication to staying with her. He wouldn't put it out for the world to see if he had any doubts. 

He posted it right before practice two days later so he could work the anxiety of it off. 

When he got back to his locker an hour and a half later, he had 1,654 likes and over 200 comments. At first glance, they all seemed positive. Not that what random strangers thought of him meant much, but it was nice to know his fans were happy he was happy. 

Bonus scene: 

On the afternoon of the anniversary of their one year of meeting, Reece stopped Sarah as she walked into the building after work.

“I’ve got a delivery for you, Ms. Roberts,” he said, walking with her over to the security desk. 

Before he’d even picked them up, Sarah knew it must be the large bouquet of flowers that were an absolute riot of color - purple and yellow, red and pink, white and green. 

Quinn was out of town - playing in Toronto at that very moment, in fact - and she knew he must have sent them in place of being there in person. 

“Thank you, Reece,” she said, accepting the flowers and a card from him before heading upstairs. 

Trying to manage the vase, card, and her school bag, as well as press the button in the elevator, resulted in her accidentally slopping a large amount of water down her front. Thankfully, the large bouquet hid the spill from anyone else in the elevator, and she was the only one to get off on the top floor. Upon entering the apartment, she set the vase and card on the bar and went straight up to change. 

It wasn’t until she wandered down to make dinner during the second intermission and saw the bright flowers that she remembered the card. 

Her full name was on the envelope in someone else’s writing, and the front of the card was completely blank, so when she flipped it open, she was surprised to find Quinn’s handwriting filling most of it. 

It’s been one year since I took refuge in the aquarium, only to stumble upon a beautiful woman giving a talk about octopus and took the chance to ask her out. Back then, I just thought she was one of the most beautiful people I’d ever seen. Now I know that not only is she beautiful, she’s smart, kind, supportive and so driven she inspires me to do better. I don’t like to think what my life would be like if she’d turned down my offer for lunch, or I didn’t get up the guts to talk to her. This time with her has been a whirlwind and the best year of my life. 

I wrote this for the caption of the post that went up today, then realized the only person I really wanted to read it was you. 

Happy one year of meeting, Sarah. I’m so glad you took a chance and went out with me even though I was more than a little awkward. 

I love you. 

Love, 

Quinn 

Moved to tears by his thoughtful words, Sarah snapped a picture of the flowers to put up on her stories, adding the caption, Love you, @_quinnhughes, before texting him.

I love you. I can’t believe it’s been a year. Here’s to a million more.

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

[russellsppttemplates]

I'm sorry to hear you need the distraction for the reasons you do.

I have a fluffy one for Lando and his wife...like, imagine right after Tilly is born, still in the hospital, Lando asks the nurses to take the baby girl to the nursery, so he can take care of y/n. He helps her have a shower, wash her hair, and do her skincare bc he knows that's something that relaxes her. He is the softest hubby tending to his girl after she has their baby.

Cw: hospital, post partum care

"Would it be okay if I asked you to take Matilda back to the nursery after Y/N has fed her?", Lando asked one of the nurses as she entered the room to leave your afternoon snack on the table.

"Yes, absolutely", she smiled, "just let us know when you're ready for us to take her by ringing the button there and we'll look after her".

Excusing after checking everything was okay, Lando closed the door and went back to sit by your side. Even though your daughter had only been born the day before, he still couldn't believe how much you were already doing for her, your body making up the food she needed as she happily suckled on your nipple.

"Can you get me that cloth, please? She spit a little bit", you asked, pointing to the lavender coloured fabric by the foot of the bed.

"There you go, love", Lando offered, looking in awe at you as you carefully wiped the baby's cheeks and chin, "can I burp her?".

Passing the baby to Lando so he could have some time with her, you let yourself rest against the pillows, watching the cosy scene unfold. You were in love with your little family and wouldn't change it for the world.

Lando paced softly in the dim light of the room, a gentle smile hidden beneath a veil of concern on his face. He loved your daughter more than words could explain, but right now, he was focused on you. You had just brought Matilda earthside and he wanted to make sure you knew just how cherished you were.

“Just a minute, princess,” he murmured to himself, heading towards the call button as he glanced at you, seeing your eyes begin to flutter shut. It tugged at his heartstrings - you needed something soothing that would help you relax after the whirlwind of labour and delivery.

With a quiet determination, he approached you, "I asked the nurses if they could take Tilly to the nursery so I can look after you for a little while - is that okay?", he asked, not wanting to overstep any boundaries but making his opinion known.

"Oh, I'm fine, I don't need-", you began.

"I want to do this, okay? And she can go and sleep there just as well as she sleeps here", he reasoned, pressing the button when you didn't say anything else.

When one of the nurses arrived, she gathered Tilly carefully, cradling her with the utmost care before heading off, leaving Lando alone with you in the room.

He returned to your side, sitting on the edge of the bed with tenderness, "Hey, love,” he whispered, brushing a strand of hair gently behind your ear, “how are you feeling?”.

You sighed, a small smile lighting your face as you looked up at him, knowing that hiding the truth wouldn't be good, “Tired but happy. Just a little dazed, I guess", you mumbled

Lando nodded, his heart swelling with love, "How about a shower? I know it helps you relax," he suggested, his voice low and soothing as he rubbed circles in your hand.

"You'd help me do that? I'm not sure I can do it on my own", you chuckled despite the genuine gratitude you felt for him for even offering.

“Always,” he affirmed, standing up to help you sit up. With careful movements, he helped you swing your legs over the side of the bed, steadying you as you found your footing, "You just brought our baby girl to the world, you deserve a moment just for you,” he smiled, his voice gentle and encouraging.

After setting everything up, Lando helped you step into the bathroom, turning on the water and letting the warm steam fill the space. He set a few towels near the sink, ensuring everything was within reach in case you needed it, “just relax, okay? I’ve got you,” he said softly, looking into your eyes with unwavering support.

As you stepped under the warm spray of the shower, you felt relief wash over your body as Lando stood just outside the curtain, keeping a watchful eye, “I’ll wash your hair, just like you like it. I packed all your favourite products” he offered, and you couldn’t help but smile at the soft, comforting tone of his voice, "Come here, gorgeous", he called out, making sure to get everything just right as he lathered your hair, the scent of your favorite shampoo filling the air. The gentle fingers massaging your scalp felt heavenly, a tangible reminder of the love you had built together.

You could hear his chuckle as Lando reminisced about your first times together, "do you remember me getting soap on your eye and yelling because I thought I had permanently blinded you?", and all of the moments that led you here.

Once you were done, he helped you rinse off, gently wrapping you in a soft towel as you stepped out to dry, "You look beautiful”, he whispered, his eyes warm with adoration, "even more radiant than I remember".

You blushed, feeling the love that emanated from him, "you always know what to say to make me feel better, and you've always been a charmer", you replied, your heart fluttering as he led you back to the bed.

After getting dressed, you slid back under the covers as Lando carefully pushed the foldable table closer to you, taking every item of your skincare routine from the toiletry bag.

"I'll be gentle, I promise, and nothing is going on the eyes this time!", he smiled before he applied moisturizer and massaged it into your skin, his touch tender and careful as he focused entirely on you.

“I can't believe we have a daughter", he said, laughing softly, "thank you, my love, I'll never be able to repay you for this", he admitted.

“We make a pretty good team, I think it's quite okay", you smiled.

Lando finished up, leaning in to plant soft, lingering kisses on your forehead, "yu did so amazing. I’m so proud of you, and I love you more than anything", he confessed.

You looked up at him, gratitude bubbling inside, "I love you, too, Lando. Thank you for being so wonderful and caring to me".

"This is my daddy duty now!", he smirked, "I want to help you as much as possible, and I never want you to feel like you don't matter, or that I don't love you or any of that silly stuff, okay? You rare the love of my life and I never want you to forget that", he stated firmly.

The baby girl in the nursery might be your new adventure, but in this moment, it was just the two of you - wrapped in the warmth of your love, with the whole world waiting beyond the walls of the hospital room. Together, you were creating a life filled with laughter, love, and an unbreakable bond.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

[alarajrogers]

I think it's also kind of important to understand what Zionism even is, because it's become this huge bugaboo?

People seem to think "Zionism" means "I support everything the state of Israel does, including bombing innocent children in order to forcibly take their land," and... no. Not what it means. Zionism means "I believe the Jews have the right to have a homeland, and on the whole, the best place for that homeland is probably their ancestral lands, which they were largely forced out of 2000 years ago by imperial Roman colonizers because they wouldn't stop fighting against occupation and they wouldn't give up their culture."

Those who believe Israel has no right to exist are either massive fucking hypocrites because they believe the USA, Canada, Australia, and all the nations of South America have a right to exist, when none of those nations involved taking back ancestral land -- they're all straightforwardly occupying colonizers took over indigenous land, no "but it was ours before colonizers threw us off of it" complexity -- or they're as weirdly obsessed with "blood and soil" as Nazis and they think somehow it would make sense for all the white people in the US to move back to Europe, like we aren't all mutts with twelve different European countries plus maybe some native or African genes or maybe both in our ancestry. By the true definition of Zionism -- Jews have a right to their own homeland, on the territory they're indigenous to -- you are, 75 years after the existence of Israel was established, either a Zionist, a hypocrite, or so weirdly extreme in your leftism you've gone all the way around to the Nazi position.

You can believe that and still believe that Benjamin Netanyahu is a fuckhead who ought to die in a landslide, that what Israel is currently doing to Gaza is unforgivable (but not worse than what the US did to Iraq or any number of other places in our history -- Israel's not a special snowflake of evil here, and thinking they are is antisemitic), that whether you want to call it a "genocide" or not it is still war-crime-o-rama and no, "but Hamas uses civilians as human shields" is not an acceptable excuse for carpet bombing the fuck out of children. You don't have to excuse Israel or make up reasons why they're justified, any more than Americans had to make up reasons why what we were doing in Iraq was ok. You can be disgusted by the actions of Israeli leadership. But if you then take it out on Israelis, you better not be from the US -- or Britain, which has done far worse -- or you're an antisemitic hypocrite. And if you take it out on Jews because they believe Israel has the right to exist -- or because they haven't been sufficiently vocal about appeasing you and claiming it doesn't -- then you're kind of a textbook definition antisemite.

So yeah, if you're against Zionism -- the belief that Jews deserve a homeland and probably the best place for it is where it was already established, on the lands they are indigenous to -- then you're either someone who has no idea what Zionism even is and you're willing to spout uneducated opinions on the Internet, or you're an anti-semite. (And if you are Christian or you were raised Christian and you spout shit about "no, actually the Jews are not indigenous to Israel", oh my God are you being antisemitic and stupid, because every part of the Old Testament is about the Jews being from Israel. Also, all the archaeological evidence. Also, all the independent historical evidence.)

Note: I'm not Jewish! I was raised Catholic and am now an atheist (or at the very least, an agnostic anti-Christian; I'd be willing to accept the existence of a Creator, but that entity cannot be the Christian God, because the Christian God shows no special love for beetles and tries to encourage sexual taboos and gender-based behavior that are actively bad for human beings and counter our evolutionary niche.) I consider myself an ally to Jews, but I am very much a goy. So if you're the kind of asshole who discounts everything Jews say on the topic, maybe listen to me.

*This poll was submitted to us and we simply posted it so people could vote and discuss their opinions on the matter. If you’d like for us to ask the internet a question for you, feel free to drop the poll of your choice in our inbox and we’ll post them anonymously (for more info, please check our pinned post).

[loveandpeaceanddoughnuts]

after hours, a fluffy husband!Nanami oneshot

an: this one goes out to all the babes working through the holidays, in all forms<3

“Working late again, my love?” Nanami wrinkled his brow as he looked over your shoulder at the computer screen. “Is this the same project you’ve been working on all week?”

You rolled your neck, trying to ease some of the tension, and he took it as his cue to begin gently massaging your shoulders. “Yeah, it is,” you sighed. “I tried to tell my boss we should’ve started this months ago, but they ignored it until this week. Now I’ve got to get it all done by an impossible deadline.” You jabbed at the button to lower the brightness on your monitor. Your eyes stung, and it only frustrated you more. “It sucks.”

Nanami kept kneading your shoulders as he listened, softly pressing down when they rose up to your ears as you vented. “That sounds awful. They should have listened to you.”

“Mhm. But it doesn’t matter now, I still have to fix their problem.”

“There’s no one else that can do this? Or at least help?”

“Ha, no one else who can do it right, or on time.” You shrugged his hands off, ignoring the way it made him frown. “I’ll be working late tonight. Don’t stay up waiting for me, okay? Only one of us should have to suffer.”

He hummed dismissively. “I don’t think so. I’m keeping you company, at the very least.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “You know how I feel about overtime.”

“It’s shit?”

“Exactly. I’ll be back in a moment.” 

You slumped in your chair and scrolled through a few more pages of documentation as Nanami clattered around the kitchen. When he reappeared in the doorway, he was holding two mugs of tea, with a book tucked under his arm. Your softest pair of sweatpants were draped over his shoulder. 

“What’s all this, Kento?”

He set the tea at your elbow and held out the sweatpants with a crooked smile. “Trying to help a little.” He knelt down in front of your chair. “Will you let me?”

You nodded and let your head fall back on the chair as he pulled off your trousers, your scowl easing just a bit. Kento’s touch was gentle and warm, chased by light kisses. He slid your comfy sweatpants on, smiling as you lifted your hips to let him work them up to your waist. “There we go. Better?”

“Much,” you conceded. He lifted your bare foot and pressed a kiss to the arch, like Prince Charming doting on Cinderella. But instead of a glass slipper, he adorned you in fuzzy socks.

Nanami didn’t give you a chance to protest as he pulled a chair up beside you and settled in, one hand resting firmly on your thigh. “We’ll see this through together, alright?” He opened the book he had brought in and began to read. 

His silent support made the work go faster. Though it was a miserable slog, leaning your head on his shoulder or feeling his hand in your hair reminded you that there were better things waiting for you when the work was done.

True to his word, Nanami stayed up as late as you did, microwaving your tea, massaging your aching shoulders, and murmuring words of encouragement until your monster of an assignment was vanquished. You sent your last email and slammed the laptop shut with a triumphant grin, and he scooped you up in his arms. "You're incredible. My wife, the genius. My brilliant- what is it you say?" he stopped to think for a moment. "Corporate baddie."

You burst into a fit of laughter. "Where are you taking me?"

"To a well-earned rest, my love." You smiled into his chest, feeling a familiar heat between your legs, his sweetness and strong embrace making you want to feel the rest of your him, to reward him for his patience...

Despite your grand plans, you were half-asleep by the time he reached the bedroom. He laid you gently in bed and set to work wiping the makeup from your face with a reusable cloth- he wasn't new at this. "This" being taking care of you- by far the most important responsibility in his mind.

He accepted the half-asleep kisses you pressed to his lips between mumbled promises of what you'd do to him tomorrow, in thanks.

"As lovely as it sounds, at least I think," he teased, "I don't need to be rewarded for caring for you. I seem to remember saying some vows to that effect..."

You shushed him with another kiss, already drifting off beside him. Exactly where you belonged.

[valentine-cafe]

First time customer here, so kinda nervous (⁠〃ﾟ-ﾟ⁠〃⁠) but can I order a tiramisu and affogato(?) please!

they're in the middle of smexy time when it just gets overwhelming for reader and having to end up using their safe words, and reader being ashamed because they can usually take more than that?? also curious to see what safe words they would have!

[amab reader] idrc if reader is top or bottom, anything that works with you is fine! thank you (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

pssh feel free to reject this order (⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕)

˖⁺. ﹙ vampire lieutenant dilf  x bottom male reader x antihero mercenary boyfriend. ﹚ .𖹭 ݁

. . . you never have to apologise !! 🍒 :  vampiric ˖ lieutenant ˖ dilf character ˖ antihero ˖ mercenary ˖ enigma character character﹙ verse 781 vespsiano & alessio. ﹚

during your session with your boyfriend, it ends up getting a bit too overwhelming and in the heat of the moment, you say your safe word, only to get ashamed after cw: safeword usage, ending smut, anal

ps: why would we ever reject such a good order? this was lovely to write, thank you dear

﹙ alessio 781. ﹚. . . !! 🍒 : “A-Av - Avo -” Avocadoes.

He didn’t need to hear the entire word before his ramming hips stopped on impact. Cold sweat runs down the back of his neck and spine. Guilt floods his olive features. Shit.

Alessio pulls out of you in a split second. Hands raised in the slightest before he buffs out, his breath still far from him with the chase of release he ran for the both of you.

“Can - Can I - fuck -” he huffs out, attempts to steady his breathing. “Can I touch you amorcito? ‘s over. We done now.”

Your vision bugs, the sight of his face brings tears to the corners of your eyes as you give a small nod of your head. That look your beloved, sweet Alessio gave you was enough to twist guilt in your gut. The overwhelm now replaced by a hole of insecurity.

“I. . . ‘m-’m sorry ‘essio. . . I - I-I can - I can go a bit more actu -”

His thumb is on your cheek in a matter of minutes. A strong arm hooks around your back and hoists you against his warm skin. The frown on his lips sends your tears down your face - and he wipes them before you can even attempt to brush them away. “Hey, hey, sshhh.” his kiss meets your ear and warmth floods you chest from his deep, gentle voice. “Baby, breathe yeah? I don’t wanna do more. Tell me what’s going on.”

The silence followed tugged strings of discomfort through your body, yet you couldn’t bear to speak. Not yet. Instead you dwelled in the touch of his stroking hand

along your head and his soft murmurs telling you it was all alright.

“I. . . I-I can usually go for longer - I. . . . ‘m sorry. Just got overwhelmed.”

His smile brings you back to serenity and his lips press peppers lightly. Tenderly.

“Queriidooo, ssh. Don’t be silly.” You’re on his chest in a matter of seconds. Arms loose yet ever the refuge for you as you slump your head to his collarbone and whimper. “My main concern is you baby. Safeword means no more. I don’t care about you takin’ more in the past. What matters is the you now.”

His finger pokes at your forehead and he flashes you his usual signature grin.

﹙ vespasiano 781. ﹚. . . !! 🍒 : Droplets of sweat trickle down your body. The squeeze around your shaft and the rough pace of your husband from behind you is so overwhelming. More than it has ever been.

As much as you want to keep going. You feel as though you are going to faint from the overstimulation done across your body. Skillful hands working around you.

Grabbing, pulling, moving. His words encouraging as usual, yet the sound of the sugarcoated degradation rings in your ears a bit sharper than usual.

You choke out, looking up at him with wide, teary eyes. Already then he begins to slow his thrusts, double checking and awaiting any words that are to come.

“Ve—esp. Pop-ppopy” The word feels so strangled. But in an instant, you feel the man behind you stop any of the motions and pull out, gently shifting around on the bed to pick you up and slowly lay you down to make sure you don’t collapse.

He tries not to worry too much whether it was too hard or something else was going on. He’s more concerned with helping you right now, and making sure that you stay up and going with him.

Though, the tears of guilt and regret forming in your eyes say it all.

“Hey— heyheyhey, ‘s okay, don’t cry.” He ushers, hushing you gently whilst moving away any strands of hair from your face.

“I jus’ got s’ overwhelmed ‘m sorry— you, you can continue. It’s okay. I can go again—” You murmur, the embarrassment creeping up on you in such great amounts you can’t handle the situation in any proper way.

In response to your words, he shakes his head and smiles. Moving a thumb across your cheek while sitting up to get all of the stuff to clean you up with.

“Amore. Enough is enough, you just need rest. Alright? You did so well.” He reassures, emerald eyes gazing at you with an almost puppy-eyed look. “You never have to apologise for things becoming too much.”

“I just, I can go on for so much longer than this usually. . .” A sigh escapes him at your words, and all he does is once more shake his head.

“So? Today was not usually, maybe tomorrow?”

The soft chuckles warm you up once more, this time with gratitude at his understanding rather than embarrassment.

Grunting as he gets up from the bed, he walks towards the bathroom. Looking over his shoulder and back at you as he stops in the middle of the doorway.

“Let’s get you cleaned up yeah? Get some food after.”

[bad268]

MercDuo Pt. 2 (Andrea Kimi Antonelli x Mercedes Strategist! Reader)

Fandom: RPF/Formula 1

Requested: Yes by @f1fan123 (hehe I love this so much) (SURPRISE!)

Warnings: None (some slander against barbeque food)

POV: Second Person (You/your/They/them)

W.C. 1285

Summary: Kimi's maiden win comes in probably the worst place to celebrate it: Texas.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

<-Part 1

~~(^Pinterest)

“Radio check, Kimi.”

“Loud and clear. What is my incentive for winning this race?”

“A paycheck.”

“Maybe if I had a real incentive, I would actually win instead of collecting all these podiums.”

“Maybe if you didn’t need an incentive to win a race, you would be in contention for the championship this year, but no. We’re here arguing about this. Focus on the damn race, and we’ll see if you actually get to sleep in the bed tonight.”

“Now that’s a reason to win!”

“Kimi, just focus on the lights.”

“And here I thought my wife and I argued a lot,” Jenson laughed after the Mercedes radio cut out of the broadcast. “These two just like to be at each other, but Y/n keeps Kimi in line. Their teamwork has found Kimi on 15 podiums in the 18 races so far this season, and as we head into qualifying for the American Grand Prix, everyone is interested to see how they shape up on this circuit.”

“Indeed, everyone knows that this track is notorious for overtakes, and it will be interesting to see how the young Mercedes duo shape up against the rest of the field after topping the practice session, qualifying third, and finishing second in the sprint, ” Danica Patrick said monotonously.

“Yeah, they showed great pace this weekend,” Jenson cheered, taking over as he subtly glared at Danica. She disregarded it before taking the mic again.

“The new upgrades on the car seem to suit Kimi’s driving style more, and Kimi himself is becoming more confident in the car,” She praised, which was rare, causing Jenson to look at her wide-eyed. “He’s getting comfortable, and I wouldn’t be surprised if this weekend he gets his maiden win. In his rookie year, no less. He has shown that he can run with drivers like Charles Leclerc, Lando Norris, Max Verstappen, and Lewis Hamilton. He’s proving that he deserved that seat, and he’s showing that Toto made the right call.”

“It’s a team effort, you know. Y/n is just as much to credit for his performance. They have been putting in the hours to find the best strategy, working out the effects of different tyre compounds on the cars, and ways Kimi could improve his driving style. Y/n is a big part of why he drives that way.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“With that, let's take it to anyone else. Nico?”

The race itself was probably one of the easiest ones, strategy-wise. It was a straightforward race, and you had been letting Kimi take more control of what he wanted with the pitstops, opting to run quick calculations as the race went on. It seemed to be paying off as you and Kimi climbed up the stairs to celebrate his maiden win.

It wasn’t the way you imagined celebrating his maiden win, but you would take it any day. You glanced to the side and smiled at Kimi as he stood on the top step with George and Lewis on either side of him. It was a Mercedes 1-2, and you stood off to the side, representing the team. As the Italian and German anthem played, you couldn’t help the tears in your eyes as you were so proud of your team and how far you had come. This was cause for celebration.

Well, you may have gotten ahead of yourself because if you were in Europe or something, you would be able to go out partying, but no. Kimi had to win in the United States, where the legal drinking age was 21, which neither you nor Kimi met. You still encouraged the rest of the team to go out, saying you and Kimi would find your own way to celebrate. After glaring at a few team members who were going to comment on your verbiage, you left to find Kimi wrapping up his media duties.

“Ah, just in time. We’re almost done,” Kimi said as he looked back at the interviewer before he chuckled nervously. “Eh, what was the question again?”

“Do you think you would have won with a different strategy?” The interviewer repeated with a bite in his tone. “That strategy was sketchy, to put it lightly. Surely put together by your underprepared race engineer, I bet.”

“Woah, wait a minute here,” You started to defend yourself, but Kimi simply put a hand on your shoulder.

“I made the call, they ran the numbers and said if I was comfortable with it, I could try,” Kimi explained condescendingly. “This badmouthing about it being a bad strategy because they made it is completely false. Y/n has worked very hard to get here, and they deserve their spot. They have proven this time and time again. If you are going to come at her because of a risky strategy I suggested, come at me, and we’ll see who comes out on top.”

“Is that a threat?”

“No, it’s a promise. Don’t talk bad about someone if you don’t have all of the facts. Isn’t that the first rule of journalism?” Kimi replied lowly as he ended with a chuckle, “Isn’t knowing the facts and not spreading lies part of your code of ethics?”

The interviewer shut up after that point and turned around, leaving the pen quickly. You quickly pulled Kimi aside away from prying eyes before you pushed him against the wall and smashed your lips against his.

“Not that I’m complaining about being kissed, but what was that?” He asked breathlessly after you pulled away.

“You’re so hot,” You sighed, pulling him back in for another kiss.

“When I defend you?” Kimi asked again after you got a moment apart.

“Sempre (Always),” You exhaled as you leaned into his body.

“And you’re so hot when you speak Italian,” Kimi smirked, this time pulling you in.

“Really?” You questioned, feigning innocence.

“Sempre,” Kimi finalized, planting one final kiss to your lips.

“Okay, loverboy,” You said as you reluctantly pulled away, patting his chest before grabbing his hand and turning to start heading to the car park. “Come on. We’re going to be late.”

“Late for what?” Kimi asked as he followed behind you.

“Our celebratory date night. Duh.”

The drive to a nearby barbeque restaurant was filled with music and horrible singing. Barbeque was not your typical choice for celebratory dinner, but when in Texas, you have to partake in the local cuisine.

“I don’t know how I feel about this,” Kimi admitted after he took his first bite. “I don’t know if it’s the sauce or the pork, but I don’t think it should be pulled like that.”

“I’m not feeling it either honestly,” You chuckled as you put your ribs back on the plate. “We could always head back to the hotel and get room service. I’d rather be cuddled up against you with a bowl of pasta or gelato while a movie plays in the background.”

“That sounds so much better than this,” He sighed as he called your server over to get the bill paid. Once it was all settled, you wasted no time in driving back to the hotel. It didn’t take long since the restaurant was nearby, and there was a noticeable lack of traffic. You both walked up to the hotel entrance hand-in-hand just as most of the Mercedes engineers were making their way out.

“What are you guys doing back so early? Wasn’t your reservation for 7?” One of the engineers who recommended the place asked as you stopped to greet them. 

“Yeah, but we don’t like barbeque, so we came back for pasta and a movie,” You explained and Kimi nodded along.

“God, you two are so Italian.”

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[ssentimentals]

hi! pretty please can i ask for a hurt prompt (1) with dokyeom? 🥹🥹 idk if it's relevant but i'd like to see him being busy and stuff and starts to forget about his s/o (completely pretty irrelevant) but you could also do it on your own way, either way i'd be grateful! thank you so much <3

hi hi my pretty! thank you for requesting! 💜 hopefully you will like it!

hurt prompt: 'every time i see you, i feel more alone.'

in all honesty, you are surprised that this haven't happened earlier. your patience was wearing thin for almost two months and today it finally snapped. seokmin looks as angry as you do, maybe even angrier and isn't that funny? 'i am working,' he seethes, tone going high like never before. 'so sorry that i can't text you every single minute!'

you laugh hysterically, torn between wanting to run away and throw something at his face. 'have i said that i want that? no! i am saying that for the last two months you acted like i don't exist, seokmin! this is not okay!'

frustrated, your boyfriend runs his fingers through his hair, messing them up even more. 'i am trying hard for both of us,' he mutters, trembling with fury. 'i am trying for us and instead of being understanding you-'

'understanding?' you interrupt, shouting. 'have i not been understanding when you missed almost every single dinner? when you didn't show up at my events that were important for me? haven't i been supportive with sending you food, encouraging messages, fucking hell, seokkie, i-' you pause, breathing in. your voice trembles, when you spit out: 'every time i see you, i feel more alone. it's like you're not even here when you're with me. it's like- like i don't have a boyfriend, seokmin. and you promised to never make me feel alone.'

previous angry cloud above you two instantly dissapates at those words. seokmin blinks, face morphing from anger to pity and then self-loathing. he watches as you wrap your hands around yourself and his heart breaks; when he is here, how can you do this to yourself? jumping up from his place, he takes you into his arms with determination and gentleness, hugging you tight as you break down into heartbreaking sobs. 'i'm sorry,' he whispers, caressing your back. 'i didn't- i just didn't notice. it wasn't intentional, i promise. i just wanted to get more bonuses before christmas, wanted to spoil you this year and got so into the work that i forgot about anything else. i'm sorry baby, i'm so sorry.'

you forgive him, of course. your heart can't stay mad at seokmin for longer than five seconds; it seems like your heart can function normally when you and seokmin are alright. you hug him back, relishing the warmth and familiar scent, needing this all those two months. 'i just want you,' you mutter into his shoulder. 'i don't care for bonuses.'

'oh, love,' seokmin kisses top of your head, sighing. he feels so foolish now and his mind can't comprehend how did he manage to be so blind. 'you've already got me.'

'you owe me two months of being clingy,' you say, trying to lighten the mood. 'and affectionate. and i want a lot of chocolate.'

seokmin chuckles, thanking god that he sent you his way. 'sure, baby. anything you want. anything.'

a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini

[lumitradora]

i will absolutely elaborate onto this!

since 2020 when the first season was all we had, people have been comparing the owl house’s story set-up to h*rry p*tter due to classic tropes, but i think it aligns much more one-to-one with the wicked/oz universe, especially without the problematic elements of the former’s world-building.

of course there’s lumity being an obvious parallel to gelphie — i mean, seriously, GREEN! even though amity mirrors galinda rather than elphaba 💚💚💚 — but aside from that, belos very clearly takes the wizard’s role by suppressing/banning usage of magic in the demon realm and oppressing its inhabitants. then luz becoming a wicked (wild? the double-‘w’! 👀) witch isn’t that far-fetched when a) she’s following eda’s footsteps, and b) the plot’s uprising really kicks into play during the latter half of s2 and all of s3.

i would actually argue the scene in the first episode, “a lying witch and a warden”, when luz frees the prisoners of the conformatorium and encourages them to live in rebellion to the rules (indirectly referencing the lyrics “i’m through with playing by the rules of someone else’s game”), matches quite well with casting that spell on the monkeys and evolving them from/into spies.

also, i remember back before 2021, fans were speculating how amity would react to what went down during eda’s almost-petrification and how corrupt the whole system was after it had been her lifelong dream to join the emperor’s coven. we weren’t sure if they would be at odds, so for a wicked au it would make perfect sense for their paths to go separate ways on good terms, i.e. with the whole “so though i can’t imagine how, i hope you’re happy right now” & “i hope you’re happy, now that you’re choosing this” & “i really hope you get it, and you don’t live to regret it” when it comes to amity staying compliant — something that initially wouldn’t have been that out-of-character for her, considering her initial lack of stand-up action in “escaping expulsion” due to fear of taking that leap.

so now i wonder how much inspiration dana took from wicked as someone who only just got into the franchise after watching the movie yesterday. i would love to learn it’s at least partly intentional!

dear fandom, please consider:

Lumity Wicked AU / Lumity Wicked cosplay (@ fanartists please fulfill my dreams if you want)

Luz and Amity singing Loathing together

Luz taking Amity to see Wicked in the human world and Amity is just like 😳 the whole time

Amity singing "I'm Not That Girl" to herself when she's feeling her crush blues, yknow, for the angst

Luz and Amity singing "For Good" when Luz has to go back home

Lumity is just a (hopefully) happier version of Gelphie, change my mind

But then again, they are both lowkey Fiero - protective of each other, willing to go against social norms and conventions for each other

Feel free to add onto this

[honeyfarts666]

A Party Most Vile

Lucius Verus x OFC

Mutual non-con, slavery, public sex, aftercare, shame

Read it on Ao3 or under the cut ↓

Summary: Lucius is brought to a villa to be the entertainment for a party. But it will be a different kind of performance than what he's used to.

Excerpt: The hostess took the girl’s hand and brought her to stand in front of Lucius with her back to the platform. The girl was a pretty, young thing; she couldn’t have been more than eighteen. Her long, black hair was loose about her shoulders. Timidly, she stole a glance at Lucius and their eyes met for a single moment before she quickly glanced away again. Her eyes betrayed how frightened she was. But she stood firm despite her fears. She didn’t shake or tremble once. Not even as the hostess pulled off her robe and exposed her body to the entire room.

@perplecta

Roman women were almost as perverse as Roman men. Sometimes more, depending on the situation. This, Lucius quickly discovered, was on such situation. Macrinus brought him to the villa of some Senator. The Senator was nowhere to be found, but his wife was hosting a lavish party. The entertaining room was a large hall. All the guests sat on cushions in a circle around a raised platform in the center. The guests were exclusively women, all noble patricians donned in the finest linens, with their curls pinned up in elaborate styles. When Lucius was brought into the entertaining room, several of them squealed in delight like little girls. The women laughed and whispered amongst each other, constantly turning back to Lucius to steal another glance.

As the hostess approached them, Marcinus slapped Lucius’s shoulder and said, “Give them a good show!”

Before Lucius could respond, the hostess was in front of them. “My, Macrinus! Your specimens never disappoint, but I can already tell this one is special.” She was a middle-aged woman. Her chestnut hair was strewn with a few streaks of gray. Smile lines fanned out from the edges of her eyes. She would have been lovely if she didn’t try to conceal her age with so much make-up.

“He is,” Macrinus agreed. “Try to bring him back in one piece!” Macrinus and the hostess laughed.

Lucius was deeply confused. What was his purpose here? He could see no other man for him to fight. And even so, he was certain the women gathered were not here to see a gladiator battle. As he wondered, the hostess wrapped her hand around his bicep and squeezed. She ran her hand up his shoulder and down his chest, savoring the feel of his lithe body. Lucius was caught off guard. Had he been brought here to fuck this woman? He was so distracted, he didn’t even notice Macrinus leave the hall.

The hostess took his hand and said, “Come,” before leading him into the center of the circle. The other women quieted when it became clear the show was about to start. His chest was already bare, but the hostess let her hands wander down to his waistline and untied the knot that held his britches in place. Without any fanfare, the hostess let his britches fall around his ankles. Silently, Lucius kicked them away. At the sight of his bare body, another gasp leapt from the gathered women. “Go on,” the hostess encouraged him, “Let them see you. Give them a little spin.”

Numbly, Lucius spun in a slow circle. The last time he had been naked in front of a woman, it had been his wife the night before she died. He had only lain with two other women before her, and he had no desire to know any other. But it seemed that he wouldn’t have a choice. These ravenous women were demanding sex, and there would be no escape for him. In the back of his mind, he worried that he might not be able to get hard in front of so many eyes. But more than the audience, he felt no desire whatsoever for the aging woman before him. The sheer fact that she would organize such an event repulsed him.

But the hostess made no move to undress. Instead, she clapped her hands twice. Instantly, a slave girl walked forward into the center of the circle. The hostess took the girl’s hand and brought her to stand in front of Lucius with her back to the platform. The girl was a pretty, young thing; she couldn’t have been more than eighteen. Her long, black hair was loose about her shoulders. Timidly, she stole a glance at Lucius and their eyes met for a single moment before she quickly glanced away again. Her eyes betrayed how frightened she was. But she stood firm despite her fears. She didn’t shake or tremble once. Not even as the hostess pulled off her robe and exposed her body to the entire room. A blush colored her cheeks and she shut her eyes as the noble women whispered remarks on her body. Lucius was certain the other women must be jealous. She was easily the most beautiful woman in the room. She had no need for the thick make-up or gaudy jewelry that caked the noble women. Her breasts were small but perky. Her rosey nipples peaked through her long hair. Her skin was a gentle, olive tone and it looked so soft. Unbidden, Lucius felt his cock stirring. Shame poured through him upon the realization. How could he feel desire at a time like this? He was no better than the demented women that watched them.

The hostess picked up a small jar in one hand and then took Lucius’s cock in the other. Lucius exhaled sharply through his nose and repressed a gasp. He had been so wrapped up on the slave girl that he had lost focus. The hostess poured oil from the jar over his cock and gave him a few steady pumps with her hand. Lucius gritted his teeth, trying desperately not to give away how good it felt. Even still, his cock quickly became erect and he felt lust coursing through him. He couldn’t deny it. Even if his mind knew better, his body wanted a good fuck. It had been so long. As the hostess gave him one final pump, she leaned next to his ear and whispered, “Show us how a savage takes a woman.” As she pulled away from him, Lucius couldn’t help but turn to her and meet her eye. She gave him a devilish smile and nodded before she backed away and took a seat among the women.

Lucius instantly understood her meaning. They wanted to watch him rape the girl. He tried to think of a way out of the situation. But his mind was blank. He was stuck and the only way out was forward. The girl glanced up at him again in frightened anticipation. He didn’t want to hurt her. A sweet girl like her should be fucked gently on a soft bed. Not on a hard platform in front of an audience. But she was stuck just as much as he was. It would be better for both of them if he got this over with as quickly as possible. He set his jaw and took a step forward, eliminating the space between them. The girl gave him a pleading look of uncertainty and he knew he wouldn’t be able to do this while looking into her soft, doe eyes. With a deep breath, he put his hands on her hips and forced her to turn abruptly. She let out a soft gasp but didn’t fight him, for which he was grateful. He didn’t think he would be able to stomach forcing himself on a girl who was kicking and screaming.

She was perfectly submissive to him as he bent her over the platform. She quickly scrambled to pull her knees onto the wooden beams. She put her ass in the air, spreading her legs just enough to grand him access. The action reassured him that she wasn’t a virgin. She must have been fucked before if she knew how to position herself. He hoped it hadn’t been another party like this one. As much as Lucius would have liked to spend a few minutes sinking his teeth into the flesh of her ass and getting her nice and wet for him, he knew that wasn’t the reason they were there. He waisted no time and lined his cock up to her entrance. She flinched when she felt his length slide along her lower lips. He pushed in, but the oil made his cock slip out and slide up to tease her bud. The girl let out a low moan and unconsciously ground her hips on his length. He readjusted. He held the girl’s hip with one hand and his cock with the other as he pushed into her. She was tight. She was so fucking tight. And warm and wet and perfect. She let out a beautiful, little cry as he pressed his entire length into her.

Lucius tried to block out the noise of the women whispering around them. He tried to not let his eyes focus on them. He pretended they weren’t there. That was easier than accepting the reality of his situation. He chose to lose himself in the feeling of the girl. Her softness, her hot cunt gripping him like they really were lovers. His first few thrusts were slow and gentle. Opening her up so he wouldn’t damage her. But he couldn’t ignore the hostess’s request. They wanted to see savagery. And he also couldn’t ignore how much he wanted her. Desire burned in his chest and threatened to burst. She felt like she had been formed by the gods just for him. He picked up his pace, holding her with a hand on each of her hips. She bowed her head and arched her back, taking him so well. She released beautiful, little mewls of pleasure each time he thrust into her.

If the party guests wanted to see savagery, then he would give it to them. He grabbed the girl’s hair in his fist and pulled. The girl gave a startled cry and many of the guests gasped in delight. Lucius pounded into her relentlessly. Her over-arched back gave him easy access to the depths of her cunt and she tightened even more. He strained not to finish right then and there. She was practically begging for his seed with how tight she was. Then, she let out the most perfect moan he had ever heard. Somehow, he drove into her faster, pounding his cock into her tiny, little hole. His balls slapping her bud with each thrust. He knew he was about to come at any moment. And then, the girl let out a sharp cry and her walls clenched around him. She trembled and quaked, fighting the pleasure even as it overtook her. He thought she had been tight before, but he didn’t know the half of it. He could barely move his cock at all. He was stuck inside her as she came, pulsing and gushing her sweet wetness all over his cock.

And with that, he couldn’t fight his release anymore. He tumbled after her, thrusting his cock in as deep as he could go. He wanted to feel all of her and he wanted her to feel all of him. His cock twitched again and again, letting out ropes of his hot seed deep within her ripe cunt. With a desperate moan, he felt her body relax. Her grip around him softened and he could move again. He thrust in and out lazily as the final drops of his spend left his body. He released his grip on the girl’s hair and she slumped forward.

The gathering of women burst into applause. Lucius was sharply thrust back into reality. He glanced around the room, and the lustful, smiling faces nearly made him sick. He saw the hostess stand and bow to the applause, as if she had anything to do with it. He turned back to the girl. The girl that he was still inside of. She had one cheek pressed against the wood of the platform and the other was turned up where he could see her. Her eyes were closed, but a single tear trailed down her cheek. The horror of what he’d done settled over him. Slowly and gently as he could, he pulled out of her. The girl whimpered but kept her eyes closed. He put what he hoped was a comforting hand on the small of her back and rubbed slow circles into her skin.

“Ladies,” the hostess announced, “Hanno, the savage of Numidia!” Even more applause fills the air. Lucius could barely hear it. He could barely feel anything. He looked down at his hands and saw they were shaking. Then, he heard the hostess saying, “Clear the room for the next pair!” He understood then that he was supposed to leave. He turned to walk toward the door, his only thought was to bring an end to this nightmare. Then, he heard a thud behind him and many of the women laughed cruelly. He turned over his shoulder and saw the girl sprawled on the ground. Her legs had given out under her and she lay helpless on the floor. The laughter of the women enraged him and his heart ached for the girl.

He turned and walked back to her. He knelt down and lifted the girl into his arms. She was a small thing and was hardly any burden for him to carry. She cringed slightly when he first put his hands on her, but she quickly melted into his embrace. She put her arms around his neck and buried her face there. He walked from the hall as quickly as he could. Leaving that vile party behind. No one stopped him as he walked through the door. Nor when he turned down another hall and then another. He didn’t know where he was going, but he only knew that he needed to get away. Far away.

Eventually, he entered an empty room. It was a small, storage room and there was only a little light that managed to filter in from down the hall. Lucius sat down in the corner, feeling more protected there. The girl was shaking in his arms. She trembled and then her tears started flowing. She sobbed against him and all he could do was hold her. He stroked her shoulders and hair, praying that she found his touch comforting. He didn’t want to hurt her any more than he already had.

He buried his face into her hair, feeling the soft strands and smelling the lavender water she had bathed in. And then, he felt himself shaking in time with her sobs. He cried too. He felt hot tears drip down his face and land in her hair. She must have felt his tears, for she nuzzled her cheek against his neck and sighed. It was a sad, little noise. But there was affection in it too. They didn’t need to speak. She understood that he hadn’t wanted this either.

Lucius wasn’t sure how long they sat there. At least an hour. Maybe longer. At some point they had stopped crying, but neither had felt compelled to move. Despite what had happened, it was the only intimacy Lucius had known since coming to Rome and he wasn’t ready for the moment to end. He wasn’t ready to sever the fragile connection they had formed. It felt wrong. Suddenly, a servant came into the room to get something. When the servant saw them, he gasped. Lucius picked up a small jar and threw it at the servant’s head. The man ducked and the jar smashed on the wall behind him. “Get out!” Lucius bellowed and the servant scrambled out of the room.

The girl let out a whimper and nuzzled against him again. Lucius knew that it was only a matter of time before one of their masters were summoned. He held the girl as tight as he could, stroking his hand over her exposed back. Trying to give her comfort. Knowing that their time together would be over soon. “What’s your name?” he whispered to her.

The girl shifted and looked up at him. Her eyes were still frightened, but she had calmed down. “Naevia,” she replied quietly.

He said her name to commit it to memory, “Naevia.” Then, after a moment, he replied, “I am Lucius.”

Her brow furrowed slightly, but she nodded, “Lucius.”

They settled into silence again. Naevia rested her head against his shoulder, and he rested his cheek against the top of her head. They did nothing but listen to each other breath.

Less than ten minutes passed before Macrinus entered the room. He walked in cautiously. Lucius glared up at him and held Naevia even tighter. “Hanno,” Macrinus said slowly, “Let the girl go and get up.”

Lucius tore his eyes away from Macrinus and glared at a crate in front of him instead. If it had been Naevia’s mistress who came to get them, he would have bent more quickly. He didn’t want her to be punished. But Macrinus could see that it was all him. It was his defiance alone.

“Hanno,” Macrinus warned. But still, Lucius kept his eyes fixed on the crate, intent on ignoring his master to his own detriment.

“Lucius!” Macrinus said firmly. That got his attention. Lucius’s eyes snapped to Macrinus’s. He had no idea that his master knew his true identity. He saw the sick gleam of victory in Macrinus’s eye. “Get up and put the girl down,” his master ordered.

Lucius’s breath came heavily through his nose. He knew if he resisted any longer, there would be serious consequences. And if Macrinus knew who he was, he could inflict untold damage. Slowly, he gathered Naevia into his arms and straightened his stiff legs. Once he was standing, he let Naevia’s legs down to the ground but kept one arm wrapped around her back. For her part, she didn’t seem to want to leave him either. She clung to him and pressed her naked body into his. Macrinus lowered his brow and gave Lucius a look that let him know he was still not obeying. He released the arm around Naevia and she whined at his loss.

Macrinus nodded to someone standing just outside the door. Two slave women entered and pulled Naevia away from him. Naevia cried, but she allowed herself to be pulled away. She glanced at Lucius one last time as she was escorted through the door.

Lucius and Macrinus were left alone. Macrinus gave Lucius a baffled looked and asked, “What was that?” Lucius couldn’t respond. All he could do was breath. If he did anything else, he was afraid he would snap. “You performed well enough,” Macrinus continued, “And then, you run away with the slave girl?” Macrinus waited for a response but Lucius didn’t give him one. “What has gotten in to you?” Macrinus demanded.

Lucius swallowed hard and said, “You know my name?”

Macrinus gave him a sickly smile and replied, “Yes, I’ve known who you are for some time. It was fairly obvious after your mother came to visit you.”

Lucius gave him a curt nod. He should have known a visit from the former emperor’s daughter wouldn’t go unnoticed. It was foolish to hope his identity could stay a secret. He had never felt more exposed in his whole life and it had nothing to do with his nakedness. He was completely under Macrinus’s thumb.

“Clearly,” Macrinus continued, “This experience hasn’t been good for you. So, we’ll keep you in the Colosseum from now on, alright?”

Lucius nodded in response. That, at least, was some small relief.

-

A guard put Lucius in irons and shoved him into the carriage that had brought him to the villa. Macrinus watched with one eye as he said his farewells to the hostess. As an afterthought, he turned back to her and asked, “The girl Hanno bedded?”

The hostess hummed in response, “What about her?”

Macrinus grinned and said, “I’d like to buy her.”

AN: HELLOOO!

You know, I never really noticed Paul Mescal before this movie but now I am lowkey obsessed! What can I say? I love a man covered in blood! Anyway, I just really wanted to write a fic for Lucius that incorporated all the trauma he must have been feeling. But also something that is pornography because I am a sinner lol

[xxnashiraxx]

✨Ali's Birthday Bash! #4✨

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Part 4 time with a double threat!!! 💗💗I am gearing up- I'll be out of town the next few days, but I should still have no problem posting!!! I hope you all are having a lovely holiday season!!!

Tomorrow will just be one art, then the day after will be two, et cetera, et cetera!

divider here!

Henri (for @justabiteofspite)

AHHHH HI!!! It's Henri!!! One of my fav durges!!! 💕I LOVE her color scheme and her face and her make-up- it was so fun to do!!!!

I would like to say that without your knowledge and expertise, I would be missing so much BG3 content and tips- you are one of THE BEST players I've ever seen and I admire you so much! Not only that, but when you share writing wips I melt- I love Henri and Astarion and I hope to see more of them in the future (no pressure!!!) You are such a kind, sweet friend, and I love watching you play BG3 and kick ass 🖤🖤 I am so thankful to have met you, and not only that but to live so close to each other!! Someday soon we'll be getting a meal and yapping in person!!! 🫂🫂 Happy b-day again, and happy holidays my friend!!!

Tavlor (for @badbloodwitch)

EEEEEEE another amazing lady!!! I have still never gotten over the silly pun of Tavlor Swift, and I'm glad to breathe her to life as much as possible! I went a little crazy silly with the eye color, but I hope you still love!! 💙💙

AHHH ILY!!! I love your writing so much, you write Astarion SO GOOD UNG- I love your stuff, I love you, I am so happy I met you, and you are seriously one of the funniest people I know! You're so kind and encouraging and I love your writing wips and your amazing input and fun vamp discussions! Both of you two!!! I swear 💙 I am so glad I met you 💙

Alright!! That's it for today fellas! I love you all VM, and I'm so happy to progress through these- they've been so fun and honestly have helped me improve!! See you all tomorrow!!

[littleslaywrites]

pas de deux- the prince and sugar plum | spencer reid x bau!reader 

pt 4 of pas de deux - based on request by @kakamixoxo

summary: spencer brings your students (and you) gifts after their performance of the nutcracker

word count: 1.2k

cw: f!reader, fluff

After your week of subbing, your friend had asked you to help teach the little ones their dance for The Nutcracker. She knew you wouldn’t be able to resist, especially after the girls had begged you to visit them again. They were all just old enough for their first year in The Nutcracker as the gingersnaps, and you had been enlisted to be their first introduction to the show.

Growing up, winter doubled as nutcracker season. You’d danced almost every role by the time you graduated college, knowing the show inside and out. Your friend briefly showed you the choreography, simple to accommodate for the beginning dancers. 

Teaching them was a little easier than their regular classes. They understood the excitement of joining the older dancers in a “real” show. You could also coax them into behaving with your own stories of your own past performances.

The girls kept asking for a visit from Mr. Spencer, and after a month of begging, you finally agreed. They had been working hard, so you told Spencer to come by after work. When he walked in the door, the girls cheered, even more excited to see him than you were.

“Can Mr. Spencer learn our dance?” one of your students asked.

“If he agrees to behave,” you say, always looking for a way to tease him. 

The simple steps turned out to be just right for him, and he quickly perfected the skips and little hops. Even the girls were excited about his success, encouraging him in the same way you did for them. 

“Maybe I could perform with you,” he joked at the end of rehearsal. Your students were less enthusiastic about this idea, concluding that he was too tall to blend in with them. As he left, he promised that he’d come see the show. This was perfect, as you could use it as leverage for them to focus whenever they got distracted. You’d remind them that they needed to perform their best as “Mr. Spencer would be in the audience,” which would always make them concentrate.

As you were in the studio, Spencer read the book the ballet was based on. When you were in bed that night, he told you all the differences he found between the show and the origin. You listened intently, savoring his bedtime story. He was truly interested in everything you were passionate about, wanting to learn about everything related to you. 

Eventually, opening night arrived. You opted for a short green dress, and Spencer decided on a red tie to create a festive color scheme between the two of you. Knowing how much you loved the gifts he gave you after all your performances, he’d gone out and bought all your dancers small nutcracker ornaments.

“You look amazing,” he says, kissing you after he’d parked the car outside the theater.

“It feels weird to not be the one performing,” you say. 

You never imagined you could be more nervous in the audience than backstage, but sitting in the theater, you couldn’t help but worry for your girls. You could only imagine how they felt, never having stepped on a stage in front of so many people before. 

Sensing your jitters, Spencer grabs your hand. “They’ll do great,” he says, squeezing, “considering they had a fantastic teacher.” You smile, lightly kissing his cheek. 

The performance goes smoothly, your girls remembering all their steps. Once their part is over, you’re able to relax and enjoy the rest of the second act. The ballet feels like watching a replay of your life, from your first role en pointe as Clara to your last role in college as Sugar Plum.

You rest your head on Spencer’s shoulder during the pas between Sugar Plum and the prince. It seems like the music has taken on another life after you met Spencer. You could always feel the love written into it, but now you understood how it felt to experience it yourself. Spencer feels the same, imagining the two of you as the characters. Even if he couldn’t dance in the literal sense, he’d mastered the routine you had together.

At the end of the show, you make your way to the stage door. When the young dancers see you, they all make a run for you, capturing your legs in a hug. Next, they see Spencer, holding the bag with their gifts in it.

“I’ve got something for you all,” he says, crouching to meet them at their level. “I always get Miss y/n a gift after her performances, so I thought you all should get something, too.”

He pulls out the tiny nutcrackers, and the girls thank him and pull him into a group hug. “Consider this an official apology for distracting you all during class.” The girls giggle, all trying to convince him that he wasn’t a disruption and that he should visit more often.

“Did you know that, according to German folklore, nutcrackers are said to bring good luck?” he says as he hands each girl their ornament.

When all the girls have their gifts and have left to find their parents, Spencer grabs your hand and leads you back to the car. 

“I told you they’d do well,” he says as you climb into the passenger seat. “I know you weren’t actually performing, but I still got you something.” Reaching to the backseat, he pulls out a gift bag and hands it to you.

Inside is a record of the music from The Nutcracker. Spencer knows you collect records, both of your archives merging when you moved in together. 

Next is a pair of earrings, shaped like little nutcrackers. “I thought you could wear them when we come for closing night,” he says. 

“They’re perfect,” you say, “The girls will be obsessed.”

Last is a small white box containing cookies in the shape of snowflakes. You take a bite right away. “It’s good,” you say through your full mouth. Spencer smiles, reaching for one himself.

“I think we should make this a tradition,” Spencer says, taking your hand. 

“I like that idea.” You rub your thumb over his as he drives home, light snowflakes waltzing down to the windshield. 

“I wish I could’ve seen you perform in it.”

“You know, I’m sure my mom has videos of all the shows,” you say. 

“I’d love to see that.” You glance at him to see his bright smile. Love fills you as you see his genuineness, fully interested in watching some old home videos that haven’t been touched by anyone but your parents.

That night, you call your mom, who promises to mail the tapes to you. You put on the new record, letting the music bring back memories of another life. You used to wonder if you’d made the wrong career choice. You’d given up the opportunity to dance professionally after college, choosing a career in the FBI instead. That choice haunted you for a while, but as you stand in the apartment you share with Spencer, you realize where your decision had led you. Ballet will always be a part of you, but it’s not what put Spencer in your life. Looking over at where he sits on the couch, you thank your past self for bringing this life to you.

[nocturnalfandomartist]

.⋆｡ﾟ Art vs Artist 2024! ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Click for better quality!

It's my first time doing art vs artist, but I thought it'd be a nice opportunity to see how it looks! My style has been so inconsistent this year (thanks multiple style crises), but I am proud of a few pieces. Mostly. I seem to use similar techniques and colors a lot, but I guess that's the point of an art style anyway. Everything up here is cropped a bit since I don't draw at a 1:1 ratio usually. If this is your first time seeing my work, I love The Legend of Zelda and Zelink!

Thanks for another fun year of art! ^^ Some stats below:

#1 | 1,943 notes | June 18, 2024

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༺ Top 10 posts by notes!

I remember drawing this on the announcement day, within a few hours! It's my first post to surpass 1k!

My second post to surpass 1k!

#2 | 1,197 notes | June 22, 2024

#3 | 694 notes | July 27, 2024

...trends work

i need to repost this with type instead of handwriting

#4 | 572 notes | August 3, 2024

I want to redraw this one, even if it's not very canon

#5 | 546 notes | July 28, 2024

#6 | 528 notes | August 5, 2024

I will continue to change how I draw her

#7 | 456 notes | Setember 19, 2024

I tried a slightly different look here, I think it's kinda cute!

A tie!

#8 | 456 notes | June 19, 2024

Two pieces are in this post! I love Classic Zelink, so I was trying to figure out how I wanted to draw them. :) I have a lot of drawings of them to come...

#9 | 355 notes | June 9, 2024

I've really been trying to figure out how I want to do backgrounds on my doodle pages. And how to draw TP Zelda properly. Still haven't figured either out, if you're wondering.

#10 | 353 notes | May 18, 2024

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So much from EoW... I jumped on that hype so fast, it's the Zelda game I've only ever dreamed about!! ♡ Still kind of surprised nothing from Linktober is up here, though, considering it was all the better stuff. ^^" There are a few pieces I never finished this year, also... maybe 2025 will be their year!

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Small announcement - I got a private commission I'm working on at the moment, but soon they will be entirely open again! I do character art and designs if you're interested! ^^

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✦ Ko-Fi | ✧ Ao3 | ⟡ Bluesky

REBLOGGING IS ENCOURAGED, BUT DO NOT REPOST.

[azrielgreen]

Dear Az,

I wanted to take a moment to express my thoughts about Prism. First of all, thank you for continuing this incredible story. Your writing has always been captivating, and the world you’ve created means so much to so many of us.

That said, I hope you won’t mind me sharing some feelings as a reader who deeply loves Prism. I’ve noticed the pace of the story has recently sped up, and it feels like some of the plot’s richness is being lost in the process. Themes like Dissociative Identity Disorder/Age Regression, the rebuilding of the house, the wedding, Billy’s life in prison, and Steve’s past with Tommy—all of these are such intricate, layered elements. They deserve time to breathe and unfold, the way you and Brook masterfully handled the earlier parts of the story.

Another thing I’ve come to realize is how much the waiting between chapters contributed to Prism’s atmosphere. It allowed the tension to linger, making the story feel more intimate and immersive, which is so essential for a horror narrative. The suspense of waiting was part of the magic — it gave us time to sit with the fear and let it grow. Rushing the story risks losing that core essence.

Please don’t feel pressured to finish this story quickly. I know many readers, myself included, would wait as long as it takes to see the story develop at its own natural rhythm. I promise. I’m begging. The beauty of Prism lies in its depth and the careful build-up of tension, fear, and emotion. I know you’re capable of continuing that magic, and I truly believe in your vision.

Thank you for all the love and effort you’ve poured into this work. Your talent is undeniable, and I hope this note feels more like encouragement than criticism. I can’t wait to see what’s next for Prism.

Warmly,

One of Jack knives.

Hi, thank you for your insight and sharing thoughts. The last two chapters should really have been one massive chapter that I split for time reasons, hence the fast posting and i did intentionally write them to have this whirlwind "removed from reality" feeling where all else seems to fade. I would never ever rush Prism, and I'm writing as both Brooke and I intended, i.e., following the outline we devised together. It's also really hard to write this story without her for so many reasons, and though I'm doing everything i can, I know I should work harder to keep it at the level it was before. It's a huge adjustment for me, and believe it or not, I am trying my best, but i can always try harder and level up, so I'll work towards that during future chapters. I did really just want to do something nice by posting before the 24th and try to fully immerse myself in the story again. Writing it solo is really hard. I'll try harder going forward.