#there is something so beautiful and poetic

[bunnivez]

˗ˏˋ 𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐈 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐫, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 ´ˎ˗

⟡ ݁₊ . Waking up early in the morning, you notice a nicely wrapped box with a pretty bow, on top of it— laid a nicely folded letter with your name on it. Upon inspecting the mysterious gift; you came to a realization of who the gift is from. Your heart flutters with warmth, it seems your lover didn’t forget.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 𝐋𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 ꒱ ˎˊ˗

Dear (Y/n), Merry Christmas to my pretty girl, hopefubly you didn't think I'd forget to get you a present. Honestly I feel kinda corny doing this, i'm not really used to it but 1 figured it would bring a smile to your face. Hopefully you like my gift, I actually made it myself. It took me hours, deadass; but you know i'll do anything for my baby.. Love, Zoya

You giggled softly at your girlfriend’s letter before unwrapping the small pretty box. You were met with a hard cover purple box this time, and inside it contained a beautiful handmade bracelet with beads of your favorite colors. It was honestly surprising to know Zoya made it, you’d think it would end up messy but it was actually the opposite. Well, you have to give her credit; she is a fast learner.

As you put on the bracelet you notice a small note at the bottom of the box; I’ll be picking you up at 2, make sure to wear something warm and easy to move on.! What does she have planned?

Dear (Y/n), Merry Christmas Princess! I Really hope you like my present, I thought it would look cute on you and it's really helpful, especially in this weather. Apart from that, it will come in handly later for what I have planned. I'll be picking you up around 11; pretty early, I know, but I promise it will be worth it, you'll see.. Love, Cinnabar

Your lips parted slightly as you read the letter; a date??? You set the letter aside and unwrapped the box. Inside contained a lovely fluffy sweater of your favorite color(s). It was very pretty and warm, Cinnabar was right, it looks very helpful with the cold weather. However, what exactly is the occasion?

You took some time thinking until you remembered. She mentioned once about wanting to ride her horse with you on a snowy day, specifically at a park she knew where the view was beautiful. You quickly get ready with a huge smile on your face.

Merry Christmas to my sweet angel <3 I hope you like my gift, I made it just for you, it took me hours but it was all worth it, especially when I know it will bring a smile to that sweet face of yours. I love you so much baby, and I hope my present brings you some comfort for when you need it and i’m not there. Once again, Merry Christma, angel… with lots of love and kisses, Garofano

You smiled as you read the letter, her handwriting was neat and beautiful, you’ll save it like the other letters she has written you. The way that even through letter— she still calls you her angel. Your eyes looked at the pretty, purple with green stripes box with a nice white ribbon on it. As you held the box, you realized it was pretty light, it didn’t make much noise either when you shook it.

Lifting the lid, you quickly gasp and take out the hand made gift Garofano made. It was a plushie of you! It looked so cute and silly; she added a lot of detail to the outfit. You hugged the plushie happily before whipping out your phone and sending a picture of you holding the plushie to Garofano, letting her know just how happy her present made you.

Меrry Christmas baby! Im your dear sweet santa clause this Christmas ho ho ho :p. You know, photos are very impertant. They capture and freeze moments and carry many memories. I sound really poetic now, but in sure you can already guess what I got you. Hopefully with this we can capture happy moments of our own… Love, Deren

You giggled and neatly folded the letter. Your girlfriend had a way of bringing humor even in letters and it always made you crack a smile. You opened the box, first undoing the pink ribbon. Inside the box laid two items, a Polaroid camera which you first notice, and a hard cover book. You smiled in excitement and grab the book first, opening it to see the first page covered in pictures of you and Deren— taken by herself.

As you turned the other pages, the rest were left blank. You glanced at the polaroid camera, Deren left the rest for you to fill on your own. Capture the happy moments in life and glue it all in the book to look back to. Oh once she comes back theres no way you will let her go.

────୨ৎ────

©bunnivez — do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my works without my permission.

[overtake]

A soft Maxiel Christmas moment | 2k (also on ao3)

CWS: mpreg and the canonical bodily terror of pregnancy

Daniel stares straight ahead at the faux crackling fireplace, his swollen feet propped as close as he can manage without risking them melting off with residual heat. Outside, there’s no majestic snowfall. It’d started briefly yesterday, and for a single minute, with the world a quiet white blanket outside their frosted windows, he felt a moment of peace and sanity.

It’d gone as quickly as it’d come. The temporary relief of fresh snow quickly faded to grey piles and puddles inside pot holes. They’d had to run to the store for last minute items, and Daniel’s mood had quickly soured with every step of his new boots through the slushy squelch. They were brand new for this season, a size up and wider than his old ones because his feet are too fucking big to wear what he already has, and he needed to pad them out because his ankles hurt constantly.

A warm shiver wracks its way through Daniel’s insides, like a hot fan coil has replaced his spine and is boiling his blood from the inside out. He throws off his wool blanket in frustration and tries to heave himself up. Unfortunately, all that brings him is a loud groan before he collapses back into his spot, suddenly sweating and ready to smash every single item in this stupid fucking house to smithereens once he figures out how to stand up again.

He pants for half a second, then uses his hands to shimmy himself along the couch until he’s as far away from the electric fireplace as he can reasonably manage.

Then, all at once, his body’s internal heater shuts off and leaves him shivering again.

���Oh fuck off,” he groans to his round belly. He doesn’t want to grouch at his unborn baby. There are all these studies about when the baby can hear them and how they react to their parent’s mood. It’s why Max says good morning to it before he helps Daniel out of bed. He’ll reverently kiss the bump three times before he leans up to give Daniel four kisses so, “You don’t think I love you less than I love baby.”

That’s what he calls it, baby. They’ve been in gridlock over the name for three months, and Daniel’s argument that he’s the one carrying the back pain and morning sickness falls on deaf ears because Max absolutely fucking hates his name choices. Maybe Daniel didn’t start off great by intentionally antagonizing him with the boy’s name of Dale and waxing poetic about Dale Earnhardt, but Max gave it right back to him by pretending he’d name a child after his father. Safe to say, pregnancy hasn’t brought out the best in them from time to time.

When they’d clasped hands tightly and watched the pregnancy test develop, both pretending they were doing something more dignified than staring at a cup of piss in Max’s plane toilet, Daniel had pictured pregnancy to be full of beautiful moments, some sort of film montage of kitchen dancing and 3d scans and tiny baby shoes.

He hadn’t been totally naive. Michelle had the worst morning sickness through both her pregnancies, and Victoria did not shy away from complaining about all the cruelties her children unleashed on her digestion, hair, and even her nose. Daniel had panic googled that one and immediately regretted it. The last thing he needed on his face was for his nose to get even bigger.

Max had just laughed when he expressed his concerns and kissed the curve of his nose, reassuring Daniel that he’d want him even if it fell right off.

So he knew there’d be hard parts, but he reassured himself that Max being there and the promise of their family together would be enough.

Instead, he’s awake at 4 a.m. on Christmas because he’s gassy and in too much pain to sleep, and the soft snores he used to love from Max made him want to claw off his ears and tear out his hair. He’s constantly overstimulated. Their cunt doctor kept saying things about how geriatric pregnancies are even harder on the body until Daniel refused to keep seeing him if he said the word geriatric one more fucking time.

Worse still, he was banned from flying home. They’d had a whole plan, with Daniel flying out just before it’d be too late term to make such a trip, so he could be around his family until the season ended and Max could join him back in Australia. He’d have a summer Christmas and let their baby be born in his country before he had to take his little family back to Monaco for the new season. It was planned impeccably.

Then the doctors started heming and hawing at his last scan before he left and told him that flying would be a major risk, especially such a long distance. This time, they were wise enough not to add anything about his age.

So now his whole family and Max’s are in a giant ski cabin, taken away from Monaco and the cats so they could all fit in one home, and Daniel had to sit through a 7 hour car ride that turned into 10 with all his toilet stops.

The worst part of all of this is that Max is so patient with him. He massages Daniel’s feet and knows how to tease him about the swelling without hurting Daniel’s feelings. He rubs stretch mark cream on Daniel’s bump, even though he thinks they’re cool and likes to run his fingers up and down the white marks, because he knows Daniel hates them but is too tired to prioritize putting cream on his stomach every day on top of keeping this baby alive. He’s going to be the best dad, and Daniel has to sit grumpy with the knowledge that he’s the pregnant buzzkill ruining Christmas and resenting the child that Max loves more than anything.

He must nod off at some point, because he wakes up vertical on the couch with his head in Max’s lap and a blanket tucked neatly around him to form a Daniel burrito. Max has his feet propped up on the coffee table and is playing classical music, a constant these days because he followed some Instagram parenting accounts that claim it’ll make your baby smart. Daniel’s skeptical, but god knows the baby could use any boost it could get because Daniel’s not handing down much in the way of school smarts.

The house is still silent around them, but light is starting to creep in through the floor-to-ceiling windows. It highlights the silver ring on Max’s finger when Daniel pauses his movements and pulls Max’s hand to his mouth to press a kiss onto the cool metal. His matching one sits around his neck these days, his fingers too constantly varying in size to cover the tan line on his finger. It used to make him bitter to look at Max flaunting the ring Daniel can’t wear, but with some sleep in his system, he feels slightly less like the Grinch.

“Merry Christmas,” Max beams when Daniel lands his kiss and he registers that Daniel’s awake. “I’m going to help your mum make breakfast in a minute, but she’s getting you some cocoa and a moment to ourselves first.”

Max takes one thick finger and carefully thumbs the sleep out of Daniel’s eyes. Daniel’s body is too weighed down by foggy warmth and Max’s love to muster a response. Instead, he turns his face into the meat of Max’s thigh, dutifully clad in the matching pajamas his sister had brought for the whole group, and huffs out a hot breath he hope expresses his gratitude.

Max leans over him to kiss the bump good morning and wish it a, “Merry first Christmas.” Daniel can’t help a spark of warm satisfaction that Max said Merry Christmas to him first, then a flash of guilt and embarrassment that he’s competing with his unborn child on today of all days. Max thinks it’s funny, but Daniel tries to keep most of the thoughts internal.

“I have a gift for you,” Max says. His whole body is curled sideways over Daniel’s so his head can rest on the bump, and he rubs at it absentmindedly.

Daniel raises his eyebrows. “I should hope so. It’s Christmas.”

Max laughs, his crinkly-eyed joyous one that’s lived permanently on his face since they saw the plus sign, but also maybe since the day they both said I do.

“This one is very special,” he says, then dislodges Daniel’s head from his lap for a second so he can fish something out of his pocket and place it into Daniel’s waiting hand.

It’s not wrapped, so Daniel can see it immediately. It’s a picture ornament, small but ornate. The gilded frame showcases Daniel’s bump in the pregnancy photoshoot Victoria had insisted upon. She’d promised Daniel that pregnancy feels like shit for nine months, but you still regret all the moments you didn’t document. Daniel had tolerated about thirty minutes of it and refused to look at the pictures after, but he knows Max loved them. He had them printed and put in a special book, and he’d promised Daniel that he’ll keep it hidden until Daniel’s ready.

“I thought we agreed—“ Daniel says, but the words die out when he reads the little writing at the bottom.

“Joseph/Delilah’s First Christmas,” it reads. Stupidly, Daniel feels himself begin to well up.

“I’m not naming our child Dale,” Max says, wagging a finger in Daniel’s face and giggling when Daniel tearily bites at it. “But Delilah is a close for a girl, I think. And I would probably not name a baby after my dad, but yours.” He shrugs. Daniel’s dad is obsessed with Max. The two of them spent half of winter break fixing up an old motorcycle the first time Daniel had brought him home, and whatever happened in that garage had formed a tight bond between them.

When Daniel doesn’t answer, Max adds, “We can also do Grace, but then it feels like we’re picking a mother, and that’s not nice.”

Daniel clutches the ornament tight to his chest and buries his face tighter into Max’s thigh, blinking into the fabric and letting his tears soak Rudolph’s nose into a damp, dark red.

“Thank you,” he says wetly. He sniffles, then steals Max’s sleeve to wipe his nose with the corner of it. Max doesn’t even reprimand him for it. He’s too busy staring down at Daniel with his gentle, sweet lips tugged into a smile, then pursing them to warn Daniel of an incoming kiss once Daniel’s slightly less snotty.

“I know pregnancy has been really hard,” Max says. His head hovers right over Daniel’s, even though it must be killing his neck to crane it that way. “I love you for not divorcing me for doing this to you.”

Daniel shakes his head. “Hey, there’s a week or two left to go. Don’t count your chickens.”

He pauses, takes in Max’s face. He runs the hand still holding the ornament down the prickle of stubble dotting his soft chin, pokes the freckle decorating his pink lips, admires the morning sun glaring off yesterday’s fallen snow and making Max’s hair glow golden. “Pregnancy has been shit, and I complain a lot, but I’m really excited to be a dad with you. Thank you for this.”

His voice breaks off at the last words, and Max kisses him again. His mouth is cozy like the fireplace heat, and they break into still-kissing giggles when the baby does what feels like a flip of excitement under Max’s resting hand.

Daniel’s mum is probably moments away from interrupting their moment. The kids are all going to be awake any minute now to start tearing into presents, and Daniel will probably be back to being grumpy and overstimulated within the hour.

He pushes what’s to come aside and cuddles into his husband’s loving arms and lets himself feel temporarily alight with gratitude.

(“So it might not even be a boy, but you still get all the credit of having maybe named a child after him?” Michelle hisses later, smacking Daniel’s arm as their dad hugs Max and cries. “Dickhead. Was it not enough to become a millionaire racing driver? You’re not invited for Christmas next year.”)

[sseulforgii]

full moons and a lunar eclipse

Ning Yizhuo x Reader

a/n: a quick prompt from a friend to hopefully get rid of my writer's block.

“The moon looks pretty, huh?” She whispers. You barely caught her musing as you looked up at the night sky admiring the subtle glow that illuminated the makeshift greenhouse. “Huh. I never knew you how beautiful it is up here.” You mused back and you can see it caught her off guard but there was a faint smile tugging at her lips.

That was the first time you heard her utter those words. Granted, it was also the first time you met her. Ningning goes to the same uni as you and she was a familiar face before this encounter. You had a few classes together but never really interacted. Just a few smiles and nods in passing. But you always thought she was interesting. She’s not miss popular but people knew her and was drawn to her and before you know it, you were too.

Since that day at the greenhouse, you and Ningning had become closer. Her energy and smiles were so contagious, most especially her absurdly funny laugh. You knew deep down you’re harboring feelings for her, but you also know that Ningning won’t look at you the same way. So you kept your feelings at bay even though every single day you feel your resolve breaking.

You kinda had this tradition after that full moon at the greenhouse, where you’ll come watch the moon light up the sky every time there’s a full moon. And every time, without fail, you hear her softly whisper the phrase, “the moon is beautiful, isn’t it?” to which you would just hum in response or look at her then the moon in wonder. Holding yourself back from saying she’s more lovely than any moon you both saw.

A month before summer classes began, you found yourself sprawled on a blanket at the greenhouse with her. Just listening to some music while you both wait for the moon to appear. Her head was on your lap and you started chatting about your upcoming classes and how excited you were about a literature class you were dying to take since your first year. You felt her adjust herself to lay beside you instead and you can feel your heart hammering with how near she is. “The moon is beautiful, isn’t it y/n?” She said as she stared at the moon above. You were silent for a while. It was the first time she addressed you directly when asking that and you can’t explain the butterflies that you felt were let loose in your tummy.

You chuckled nervously and looked over at her. She has her eyes closed as you muttered a weak “yeah” mesmerized by how ethereal she looked under the moonlight. Your breath hitched when she opened her eyes and stared back at you. There was a pause and then she giggled. Before you know it, you were both laughing without even knowing why.

“Sometimes, ignorance really is bliss huh?” She says as she started to get up. You looked at her, confused with what she said but before you can ask anything she held out her hand to help you up and changed the subject. Her rhetorical question long forgotten.

You were on this literary class with Ningning’s best friend, Aeri, that day when the professor discussed about Japanese literature. Something about a Japanese writer named Natsume Soseki. You weren’t really paying attention, just doodling all over your notebook when you stopped dead as you heard the phrase “the moon is beautiful, isn’t it?”

You snapped your head up and looked at your professor startled. Aeri tapped you on the shoulder and asked you what’s wrong. “What did the professor say about the moon?” You asked her, your heart suddenly pounding. Aeri chuckled, “oh that. The moon is beautiful, isn’t it? It’s a direct translation of a Japanese phrase that Natsume-san taught his student. It’s like saying I love you without actually saying it.” She explained. And you felt yourself losing balance even though you’re sitting. “I’m surprised Yizhuo didn’t tell you about it. She loved that phrase and said that one day she’ll confess her love for someone in that poetic way,” she continued. “Very cheesy huh?” She laughed and you did too, albeit yours was more because of disbelief and nervousness.

You were out of it the whole day after that class. Replaying every single time Ningning whispered that very phrase with you by her side. You were elated but also confused and worried. You kept on overthinking whether she could really like you that way too. But you had a chance! And for now, that’s what matters to you. The only sign you’re looking forward to was of she will utter those words again in a few days when the moon is going to be full once more.

The day of the full moon finally came and you were a nervous wreck. But you got ready nonetheless. You were prepared to confess today once you hear her utter those words.

You were finally sprawled on the blanket at the greenhouse once more. But this time around you’re quite fidgety but you can see how calm she is. She has her sketchbook and color pastels out. She was sketching the skyline and you watched her with so much adoration. Today, you can finally let her know how you feel. You’re just waiting for the right timing, your cue that you’ve missed for almost a year already.

You were becoming impatient, or rather more nervous as it seems to be taking too long for the sun to set. “The moon’s taking too long today,” you grumbled. She laughed lightly and looked over at you, “It’s summer solstice, silly! The sun stays longer in the sky today.” You smiled at her then. She was always so smart and brilliant. She smiled back at you and held your stare.

But panic bubbles in the pit of your stomach. Something’s not right. Her eyes look somber today as it stares back at you and you begin to worry. You wanted to ask her what was wrong, but she turned away from you and looked at the horizon where the sun is starting to go down, casting an orange glow over the two of you.

She sighed deeply, looked at you with those sad eyes once more before hugging her knees to her chest and staring at the setting sun. “The sunset is beautiful, isn’t it?” she breathes out before finally closing her eyes and basking in the sunset’s glow, a small smile on her lips and a tear stain on the corner of her eyes.

Your chest tightened as you stare at her and the setting sun in defeat. So many times you’ve heard the moon’s call but never truly listened. Why is it now that the sunset only called once, but you understood perfectly. You missed your chance. A full lunar eclipse.

[vladdyissues]

Would Vlad and Danny be people of beaches, lakes or frozen rivers? I feel that it is clear that the beach is a very hot place, the lakes are usually large...And the frozen rivers I feel like you would be very Vlad-like along with a cup of coffee

What do you say?

Lakes are fine and rivers are lovely, but there's something almost spiritual about oceans (and my own personal love of them) that makes me want to say that both Vlad and Danny are ocean people. The open sky, the great expanse that can make a person feel so small and insignificant; the salt, the sand, the stars, billions and billions of them. The mixed themes of drowning depths and soaring space. How they mirror one another, the sky and the ocean. Blue to blue.

Oceans are powerful. They are the end of the journey; all things, rivers, streams, creeks, flow to them. They were here before the land. They are not locked in earth; they cannot be dammed or drained. They burn and seethe; they birth fire and cradle more mysteries than we can know. They they soothe and terrify; they carve down mountains and feed the world. They are life—and death. And I'm getting way too poetic. The ocean is a fantastic metaphor for many things, is what I'm trying to say.

And beaches don't always imply tropical weather, anon. Some of the most beautiful beaches in the world are in cold locations.

Here's Reynisfjara, Iceland:

And Diamond Beach, Iceland:

The Blue Lagoon, a geothermal spa, also in Iceland:

Glass Beach, Ussuri Bay, Russia:

The Pacific Northwest, USA:

Nallikari Beach, Finland

I can't think of a more invigorating image than Vlad and Danny, standing on a shore of black volcanic sand and bundled in warm coats, their hair tossed by the cold, salty wind, watching the sun rise over a frosty ocean while enjoying mugs of steaming coffee.

[frailsituation]

Tips to write a unique, multi-layered antagonist

1. Let them embody the theme

• Instead of just making your antagonist oppose the protagonist—make them challenge the core theme of your story

• How? Align their goals and actions with the story’s deeper meaning. They should feel like a necessary force, not just an obstacle.

• Example: In a story about freedom, the antagonist believes chaos is the price of liberty, forcing the hero to balance order and individuality.

2. Flip the classic antagonist roles

• Subvert common archetypes to keep readers guessing. Take a role that’s traditionally a “heroic” one and twist it.

• How? Make a healer who turns people into devoted zealots or a charismatic leader who rules with subtle manipulation.

• Example: A priestess sacrifices morality for the “greater good,” believing her dark deeds will save the world.

3. Give them creative limitations

• Unique antagonists aren’t all-powerful. Their flaws or restrictions should make them more compelling, not weaker.

• How? Build their power on a fragile foundation—a ticking clock, a dangerous ally, or an emotional blind spot.

• Example: The antagonist must steal memories to survive, but in doing so, they slowly forget who they are.

4. Make them disrupt the protagonist’s world

• A brilliant antagonist challenges not just the hero’s goals but their entire worldview.

• How? Have their actions or beliefs directly unravel something the protagonist holds sacred.

• Example: The antagonist reveals a hidden truth about the protagonist’s family, forcing them to reevaluate their loyalty.

5. Let them change the rules of the story

• A unique antagonist reshapes the story’s structure or tone just by existing. Their influence changes how the plot unfolds.

• How? Give them a method or ability that bends the rules of your fictional world in a way no one else can.

• Example: The antagonist can rewrite reality with each encounter, leaving the protagonist questioning what’s real.

6. Tie their motives to something unusual

• Go beyond revenge or greed. Let their motivations stem from a bizarre, haunting, or poetic source.

• How? Draw from abstract concepts like time, memory, or legacy for a truly unique drive.

• Example: The antagonist seeks to destroy art because they believe beauty traps people in the past.

7. Break the power dynamic

• Don’t just pit a strong antagonist against a strong protagonist. Experiment with how their power and influence compare.

• How? Make the antagonist physically weaker but intellectually unmatched—or socially untouchable but emotionally vulnerable.

• Example: The antagonist is a powerless figure in exile, but they manipulate others into doing their bidding.

8. Make their downfall a seed for something new

• A unique antagonist’s defeat should feel like a beginning, not just an end. Their legacy should echo long after they’re gone.

• How? Tie their vision to the protagonist’s final decision or the story’s resolution in a meaningful way.

• Example: After their defeat, the antagonist’s ideas inspire a new generation of thinkers who reshape society in unexpected ways.

Follow for more!

[dancing-dawn]

*cracks knuckles over keyboard*

All The Memories Of You_collectingblues, 111k words

100% canon material and you can't convince me otherwise. I think about this daily even a month after reading, I'm not exaggerating. It broke my standards for fanfiction to a point that any time I read something of lower quality I just can't help but compare to this and mourn lol. Plot mainly revolves around the events of the 6-month deal, with Aku and Atsushi slowly developing their relationship through many hardships and realizations. So many powerful moments here live rent-free in my mind, from the fights, terrors and living nightmares to the domestic wholesomeness, gentle care and careless laughter and everything in between.

waiting room_srxlee, 96k words

Not to be dramatic but if I could meet the author I would fall to my knees and kiss their feet. it. is. that. good. Left me absolutely heartbroken (and it has a happy ending ffs), this is the most poetic writing I've ever read in my life, could be a whole ass best-seller novel. Centers around Akutagawa's sickness in modern AU and the growth of his relationship with Atsushi, both before and after he finds out (and angst ensues). I would sell my soul just to the style of writing alone, trust me, not to mention the plot and the pure unrivaled emotion behind every line.

at the curtains close_GhouliGhost, kitkatfics (miniekooki), 165 k words

*takes a deep breath* I speedran this in 3 days and still cannot recover from the emotional damage. In the beginning I was like "haha that's hilarious wtf am I getting into" and then watch me just a few chapters later sobbing my eyes out, clutching my heart and reflecting on my life. Probably the most realistic portrayal of a relationship I've ever read. Come see how two teachers, one being a rich asexual science nerd and the other a theatre-loving cam-boy, struggling in the depths of hell (aka financing debt) become dear friends, companions in life and lovers.

A Story Unfinished_SpiderLilyRed, 14k words

I have a soft spot for writers AU (cuz of obvious reasons) and this managed to make me smile, laugh, broke my heart and then glued the pieces. Very cute concept of Aku being a writer that is forced to write romance and your local cutie bookshop employee Atsushi turns out to be just the expert you need (to wonder why hmmm)!

enshroud me_lostdimension, 6k words

Not sure if E-rated is up your alley, but recommending just in case because it's my all-time favourite. Incredibly gorgeous and poetic writing, this is love, okay, just pure and unconditional love. Incredibly soft and vulnerable, with hurt and comfort on the side because angst is the perfect catalyst of emotion, isn't it.

a hope to return_auroraheart, 11k words

Akutagawa dies and it's fucking beautiful, I need say no more. Just be in a very masochistic mood to read :3 It has a lot of wholesomeness and fun too!! (totally not to trick you into a false sense of security nu nu)

foolish_ringingmaybelles, 13k words

Restaurant AU sickfic! I remember I enjoyed it a lot at the time, it has well-written characters (as with everything I rec here), lot of caretaking and cute little crushes. Also Gin has a pretty important cameo and as an Aku-stan, Gin by default has my heart <3 This author in general has the best sickfics so I advice to check them out if you're in the mood!

dying by design_halfbloom (diphylleias), 5k words

And a shortie for dessert! Imagine this as a missing scene somewhere in the canon material, it does not disappoint in the slightest. It's just them talking on a rooftop, but the characterization is so on point that my jaw was to the floor the whole time, idk how they wrote it so perfectly canonical.

(aaand that's the best of of the best I've found and devoured since the start of my bsd obsession 2 or so months ago. I'm very passionate about sskk and those fics in particular and I selfishly hope this doesn't get lost in the void, happy reading my peeps!) (i definitely have more but trying to have some self-restriction here lol)

I NEED SSKK FICS RECOMMANDATION SOBS

GIMMZ THE SILLIIES

[Any fic works pls I just need something to read 😭]

[spider-pete-man]

I've seen a lot of posts about the new episode revolving around Rio's reveal or a joke in the show that was incredibly funny, but I haven't seen a lot about Lilia herself, whose episode it was. This is by far my favorite episode of the show, and not just because Lilia is my favorite character. It was an episode about life and accepting death and a character out of time who just wanted to forget her visions and forget her past and all the tragedy she's witnessed from both her life and her visions. It also gave context to those, at the time, funny moments of Lilia randomly blurting something out, which was just incredible to see. Then the scene where she reads her own past and future, that was just so powerful. Each of the coven members played a part, and it makes me want to watch the whole series again with this context. All of this leading up to her beautiful and well-earned sacrifice. The cinematography of that scene was just incredible and tastefully done where we don't have to see Lilia's end. We just get to see her a girl again, happy, and with her coven. This episode really was a knock out of the park for me with Lilia and her character arc and a real standout in any Marvel show too. I loved it.

[nighttimenothings]

there are very few people for whom i would kneel for. and for you, i would. i would kneel. reverent. your name on my lips like some kind of salvation. how ever so sweet you are, my love my love my love. all bright eyes, soft curves and shy smile.

would you lie back for me, eager and wanting for me to take care of you? would you be good for me?

how shall we begin, my dearest love? shall i inch closer, hands skimming your thighs? my shoulders keep your legs spread; this is as much for you as it is for me. i'll give you everything you want so long as you let me take my time with you.

would that be amenable? could i kiss you here? what about here? i'll leave a trail of kisses up your thigh, slow and anticipatory, so as to rile you up. i've got to make sure you're ready for me, hm? all the while, my hands will make a home of your hips, my thumbs rubbing slow circles.

oh, my love. look at you. you're beautiful. the way you rock your hips desperately, the way your hand reaches for mine, the way your skin begins to dampen. but how would you sound? how every so pretty will you sound when i put my mouth on you?

easy, now. i always take such good care of you, don't i? when i finally lean in, i can already smell you, how ready you are for me. gorgeous. so puffy and wet—for me. how is it that i, of all people, am allowed?

you spoil me, my darling. and so, when i lean in, tongue easily tracing around your entrance, collecting, exploring, i can't help but sigh. it's messy and carnal and human. there's nothing more transcendent. slick stains my chin, your inner thighs, and it's perfect. you are perfect.

my girl. my girl. my girl. look how well you take me. so incredibly good for me. your moans and whines—music. sweat-sticky and flushed, you're a vision. a goddess, and i've found myself at your alter. you slide a hand into my hair, pulling me closer. anything for you. i press closer, tongue sliding deeper, nose nudge-nudging at your clit.

the world narrows, your thighs tremble and i hold your hips still. easy, easy, easy. there now, it's okay. let go. i'll be there when you fall. go on, pretty girl. it's okay. i've got you.

[neonhellscape]

gay tech priests standing by a computer, colourised

[solitude-of-stars]

Clay Writer

Please, take time for yourself too. You work hard, so hard, and you follow your heart to the deepest caverns into the wildest mountains. Your heart got broken, but you took all its pieces and molded them into something brand new and beautiful. You’re a beautiful human being, and I’m really proud of you. Sometimes you fall, but every single time you get up, and it’s hard, but you go on, you build everything again. Life made you taste how bad it can be, but you decided to remain kind. It takes courage to be soft, in this would, and I really admire you. You’re the gentle writer, poetic words and agape love personified. Your stories have an angsty aftertaste, your words don’t hit the reader violently, but they caress their cheeks and whisper in their ears words that will never leave them. In you there’s the strength of wild streams, and the patience mountains have. The world is lucky to have you.

**

Consider yourself tagged

♢  — WHAT ELEMENT WRITER ARE YOU?

WATER WRITER

Just like water, you carry your readers in a new world, and they just can’t do anything but follow. Your poetic writing allures the readers in with beautiful words, just for them to find themselves on the deepest oceans floors, where you make them taste pain in its sweetest form. Water writers are the gentlest liars, they show the readers a small stream, and no one can see the waterfall at the end. If you were a tag, you would definitely be ‘Everything is Beautiful But Everything Hurts’. Cliffhangers are one of your strong points that, mixed with your incredible versatility, make you a great writer. Your stories have a deep meaning, and never miss to leave traces on your readers hearts. You don’t limit yourself, you like to explore the deepest parts in the human soul, and that’s why readers can sometimes find MCD in your stories. Your endings tend to be sad or open, and your stories have the power to drag your readers with you, from the highest waves of a storm, and to the darkest secrets of the ocean.

tagged by: no one, this is my annual year end curiosity but seeing @musingmemories's post reminded me i needed to do it for this year tagging: @severeweatheralert ; @aoooooo0 ; @cartelheir ; @wellfell ; @redemptioninterlude ; @psielapki ; @hisinfinities ; @saburaito

[veyronvenus]

please oscar iam begging u bring this hairstyle back

[wildsaltair]

Maximus is the constellation, and I am but a humble astronomer spending my life studying him

[beaulesbian]

reading This Is How You Lose The Time War, and yeah twitter user Bigolas Dickolas Wolfwood was so right about going crazy from it

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(and this last one feels very “I wanted to share my tomorrows with him” vashwood vibes ;-;)

[jefc]

"Ultra Deep Field: Looking Out into Space, Looking Back into Time", Hubble Space Telescope (2021)

[hopecomesbacktolife]

not me reading this definitely m/f romance novel but reading heavily into every interaction between the main character and her best friend…

[lilidawnonthemoon]